Author: Aaron Weber

To do list

  • Make a shirt that says “DEAD MONEY” or “INEXPERIENCED PLAYER” and wear it to Las Vegas.
  • Make a shirt that says “DISSIDENT PATRIOT” and wear it on an airplane, possibly while going to Vegas.
  • Make fliers explaining the scientific method for idiots and pass them out. Ideally do this when it’s warm out, at a baseball game, near that guy who passes out the Chick tracts.
  • Make fliers explaining that Santa does not exist. Pass them out at Downtown Crossing during early December. Fight with parents of small, crying children who suddenly realize that their parents are not perfect, which is I suppose a good lesson to teach one’s children.

    • How I’m Feeling

    Today I feel manic. Can’t concentrate. Chewing gum like mad. Listening to “It’s a Wonderful LIfe” again and again and again. Not the movie. The song that goes “I’m full of bees who died at sea, I’m a bog of poisoned frogs, I’m the dog that ate your birthday cake, it’s a wonderful life.” It’s got this tinny, distant, off-kilter waltz beat, and a broken-record hiss-and-pop in the background, and I think the stereo tracks are just slightly off from each other, so it feels like being face-up in the gutter watching the street spin.

    Not good signs. I sense drunkenness in my future, or possibly huddling under the blankets crying, or both.

    Why Mars?

    JFleck, whom I admire greatly, defends the Mars plan. I mean, yeah, this is after all the 21st century, and such. But really my question is not “why Mars” but “why now?” and “why this, over feeding the hungry, curing cancer, or stopping AIDS?” (Well, I guess those would require politically inconvenient science like common sense economics and nutrition, genetic research, and promoting the use of condoms, all of which our current administration opposes.)

    Yes, I want space travel to work. I want to strip-mine the moon as much as the next guy. But come on, we haven’t got the cash right now because we’ve given it all to people making over $350k/year already, and if we give it to NASA we’d basically be giving it to a dysfunctional, wasteful organization. They need a completely new philosophy. And while we’re at it can we just give them, say, 1% of the military budget?

    I feel like this is Saddam again: yes, Saddam is a bad, bad man who should be stopped, but you’re doing it badly and for all the wrong reasons! If you want to give a boost to basic research, double the direct research budgets and give money to schools.

    Asking NASA to fly to Mars on any budget, even one double or triple what Bush wants to spend on it, is asking for another shuttle disaster and ten or fifteen more dead heroes to mourn, which I suppose will take the public’s mind off the fact that they’re being screwed out of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

    Police Power

    Friend of mine seems to be in trouble with the law, although he’s not sure why. Apparently the FBI just showed up at the door and displayed a warrant and took away his computers (yes, plural, he’s a programmer). They left his ipod but kept the cable. Word from friends who have had the same treatment is that you’ll never get the machines back, so you might as well just write them off and buy new ones. All I have is questions.

    Does insurance pay for things that the government impounds for investigation? I mean, what about a rental for while you’re waiting for the old one back? How do you get to work if your car is impounded and there’s no bus? Is this how police departments get their IT equipment? Maybe they were just crooks impersonating FBI agents? I’d have wanted proof– maybe you could call 911 and ask. Is there an FBI hotline for things like this? “What the fuck do you want from me?” I mean, do you need to file a FOIA request just to find out why you’re being arrested? Can you file such a request from prison? Can you it up online once they’ve taken away your internet access?

    I guess this really is a police state after all. Maybe I should really reconsider that Canada thing. Montreal can’t be much colder than this, and condos are cheaper there by a long shot anyway. On the other hand, freedom of speech in Canada is badly broken.

    More on Feeling Permanent

    I joked awhile ago that, on the one hand, I really hate the idea of moving again, but on the other hand, my girllfriend doesn’t like eggplant, and that may be a real showstopper there. Some of my readers may have taken this as sincere advice. Neither vegetable preference nor the inconvenience of moving is a good indicator of relationship quality. I regret any confusion my previous statement may have called.

    In addition, it has been brought to my attention that no-limit poker is probably not an adequate metaphor for a relationship. Love is not about losing or winning, and barely about chance at all. Nor does someone else having “a better hand” ever really come into it. It’s right, I am told, when you know that you prefer your partner to any other, no matter what, when if you could see or know all the options, you’d stick with yours anyway. There is no definitive best, after all, and you’re not going to lay down your cards and lose– you just walk on hand in hand. And if someone has a better relationship, it’s not really a reflection on you. There are no prizes outside of the satisfaction of the relationship itself. It’s not a fucking contest, Aaron.

    Will I be pretty, will I be rich? Que será será….

    Winner

    Finally, I get to make a post for which comment-spam won’t be off-topic: reviews of the latest GSK products. I love how marketing messaging for big pharma can get into Iraqi-minister-of-information levels of denial:

    I asked Fleming … is the football-through-tire image almost too on the nose, in a legal sense?
    “I don’t think anyone has drawn that comparison,” he said, totally deadpan.
    Honestly, you’ve never heard anyone compare the football-through-tire thing to, um, doing it?
    “I’ve never heard that.”

    If he had, it would make the ad an “indicated” ad, meaning it would require information about how you’re likely to get a heart attack or AIDS or something if you use the drug improperly (say, to fuel weekend-long sex binges).

    Sangiovese

    I recently tasted two mid-priced sangiovese wines– the 1999 Ca’ Del Solo from Bonny Doon, $15.99 at Mall Discount Liquors, and the 2000 Monte Antico, $9.99 at the same shop.

    The Sangiovese (“Jupiter’s Blood”) grape produces a big, deep-red wine– not as purple as a Malbec, but rich in color and similarly rich in flavor. It’s not the most common of Italian wine varieties, but an increasing interest in varietals means that it’s getting up there– it’s not a Chianti, but it’s more well-known than, say, Nebbiolo, and more widely grown outside of Italy– such as in, say, Bonny Doon’s vineyards in California.

    The Monte Antico was what I expect a Sangiovese to be: rich, tangy, and delicious. It smells like a big, flavorful wine, and it has plenty of body. The Bonny Doon was a real disappointment: thin-bodied, not enough flavor, too light on the tannins– it was OK, but not really interesting. It improved with air, but not enough to make me want to buy it again, not for fifteen bucks anyway. I’m definitely considering getting a case of the Monte Antico though, especially given that Mall Discount has a 20% case discount through the end of January.

    Tbe first part

    OK, here’s the first few bits of my translation. Let me know what you think. The book is called Hijo de Ladrón, which translates to Son of a Burglar, or Son of a Thief. There was an English translation published as “Born Guilty” in the early sixties, but it sold poorly, and Rojas didn’t see a dime of it, and it’s now out of print and nearly impossible to find. The novel is the first of four about a young man who grows into an increasing awareness of himself and his place in society as the son of a thief, as a writer, and as a political being in the linotypists union. It’s semi-autobiographical, based partly on Rojas’ life and partly on the lives of people he knew. It includes a number of historical events, most notably the Valparaiso trolley riots which immediately precede the arrest which sets the scene for the novel. I’ll post more as I get further along.

    If you have comments on the style (stilted? too many commas?) or on the content itself, please do let me know.
    Continue reading “Tbe first part”