Category: Thoughts

Wake up screaming

Last night, I woke up screaming. The dream began with having to get to the theatre for opening night of my role as Willy Loman in Death of a Salesman. I had to be there early because I had never read the play, so I had a lot to rehearse. First I had to get dressed and shave. Shaving took forever. My face seemed impossibly wide, and every time I turned my head I’d find a new spot of thick, gnarly whiskers I’d overlooked. The razor was dull, I was out of shaving cream. My beard extended all the way to the back of my neck. I cut myself. I brushed my teeth and got toothpaste everywhere. I went to get dressed, but the good white shirt I had was dirty, so I had to wear one that was sort of ragged and old and not the right color. Where was my tie? I buttoned my shirt wrong. Every button took forever to do, my fingers were completely numb, I slowly buttoned each button again, and it was wrong again. That’s when I became totally enraged and started yelling and woke myself, and Bookdwarf, and the cats.
“What’s wrong?”
“I couldn’t get my shirt buttoned right.”

Winter Sucks

Today I found an old workout plan. It had me doing 85-pound deadlifts and 60-pound incline presses. Now I’m at 105 on the deadlifts and 90 on the incline press.

I can tell that the gym is less crowded than it was right after New Year’s. Figures: I have a hard time dragging my winter-malaise butt over there myself.

Need. Sunlight.

Stupid Stupid Stupid

I’m sorry but this is just cowardice. If you are afraid to teach the truth in a classroom you are a pathetic excuse for a human being. Of course, you’re also much braver than I am for even being willing to face that many young people at once, for any reason.

Downhill Battle are a bunch of fucking muppets who are so enthusiastic about their ideas they’ll never have credibility. Their approach is akin to thinking that rock-throwing and graffiti will actually improve the lot of a political or cultural underclass. Except they don’t even have the excuse of being oppressed in any way. They’re not even starry-eyed idealists. They’re just throwing rocks because it’s cool.

You can read the real story behind the copyright ownership of Eyes on the Prize over at Sharp Tools.

Wingnuts Again

Not sure how I got on this mailing list, but Strait Gate Ministry seems to be sending me notes about how the decline of the dollar is in some way related to sin, and maybe I should invest in gold. It’s the ultimate combination of spam, really: Religious conspiracy theorist financial scams! All I need now is something about how investing in Gold and putting my faith in Jesus will enlarge my coalition or genitals.

Based on Poe’s story The Gold Bug, a “gold bug” is a person who believes that gold is a crucial store of wealth, that is intrinsically valuable, etc. etc. Basically that’s bullshit: gold is pretty, but ever since the publication of “Utopia” we’ve known that’s about all it’s good for. And today, with more gold around than ever, gold is suffering from a desireability problem compared to platinum, carbon-fiber, or brushed and powdercoated steel. It’s just not as cool these days.

For bonus reading: An old Slate article in which Paul Krugman explains the true meaning of the King Midas fable, and why gold is neither a reliable investment nor a sound basis for the dollar.

Assortment

Robert S. Boynton article on intellectual property in the latest Bookforum, which Bookdwarf brought home for me. The print version has a great picture of DJ Danger Mouse.

The resurgent The Minor Fall, the Major Lift points us to the occasional hilarity of electrocuted puppies on Prozac. Now, in Boston, dogs and people sometimes get electrocuted by the street as well– usually from standing or peeing on manhole covers that have been accidentally touched to live wires. But few of the dogs are on Prozac.

Presumably, their owners consult CrazyMeds, which is the best mental health consumer resource I’ve ever seen. It’s run by a bipolar epileptic and some other crazy people and they provide a mixture of common sense advice (“side effects suck, but being psychotic sucks more!”), glosses and explanations of the drug warning sheets, and general commentary and user reports (“This one works for me, but it totally did nothing for my buddy Tom. I suggest a low dose at first.”) on drugs, mental health practicioners, and the experience of depression, mania, epilepsy, narcolepsy, neuropathy, and whatever else ails them, their friends, and their readers. Could use a better layout, but quite the site nonetheless.

Dude, it’s obvious

It’s so obvious. He lives in a pineapple under the sea. A pineapple. He’s not tough or brave or mean. He’s obviously promoting the homosexual agenda of, um, being nice to people and wearing ugly pants. Or something.

Every once in awhile we hear “such and such icon of childhood is destroying our youth,” followed by “young adults between 18 and 25 are moving back in with their parents and can’t hold jobs.” And people buy it every time. Next thing you know, people will be shocked by the way teenagers are dancing, and by the fact that people have sexual intercourse. After that, we’ll notice poverty or cults, or a new drug– my guess is betel nut or toads.

Truth-based Processed Information Product

Via Low Culture, an indication that Our Leader is one of those people who can’t distinguish their own opinions from indisputable fact. These are the people who say “my belief isn’t based on what a religious text says, it’s based on the Gospel!”

The quotation: “I think people attack me because they are fearful that I will then say that you’re not equally as patriotic if you’re not a religious person,” Mr. Bush said. “I’ve never said that. I’ve never acted like that. I think that’s just the way it is.”