When The Going Gets Tough....

I was totally going to write something today, and then I decided, "Nah."

But then I was all, "I don't know, maybe I should..."

So here it is...

I think the most important event that's occurred all year happened 10 days ago, and has gone largely unnoticed. The social, political and economic repercussions will probably be felt for decades, if not centuries. Basically, what happened was


Ah, never mind. I changed my again.

List Tuesday: Carbonaceous

Names My Daughter Will Probably Not Have Even Though They Are Sophisticatedly Literaryish

1. Rose of Sharon


2. Goneril


3. Billy Pilgrim


4. Remedios


5. Gomer


6. Janet


7. Margaret Thatcher


8. Daisy (or Jordan)


9. Callisto (this one is literary and astronomerary!)


10. Beowulf


11. Molly


12. Ekwefi


13. The Oldest Living Confederate Widow


14. Bartleby


15. Lady Macbeth


16. Margaret Thatcher Part II

When Worlds Collide

So after years of putting it off, I finally bought myself a new computer on Saturday when it turned out that I needed one to finally finish the stuff I was doing for my sister. It's a white macbook, because if there's one thing I like about buying computers, it's paying extra for something pretty. I would be blogging this blog on it if I weren't sitting at my desk eating oatmeal for lunch. So it goes.

Anyway, I did finish the stuff for my sister. It was the first and most likely the last freelance graphic design work I've been paid for. You can see it here or here if you really want. Yay textbooks!

A Stitch in Time Saves Money

Thanks to all the hard work I've been doing I can finally relax and tell you all a story of yesteryear.

Once upon a time, I woke up feeling an uneasy combination of guilt, pride, fear, hope and pants. It was today, and the first question I asked myself was "why are my pants still on my body?" The second question I asked myself was "what am I so afraid of?" The third question was "Boy, I sure hope I can eat some fun-size Snickers today! I wonder if anybody will bring some to work in a bag full of other candies? The first answer was that I climbed into bed with my pants still on and fell asleep. The second answer was that the whole of my life lay before me like an open book, only instead of words leaping off the page, fire leaped off the pages.


Then I put the fire out and took a shower and went to work. Just like every other day save Saturdays, Sundays and election days.

The third answer was "yes."

Speaking of election days, I worked at town hall on Tuesday counting absentee ballots. I learned a lot of things about the way our democracy works. First of all, there are many stringent qualifications to be a team leader of the Absentee Voter Counting Board. They are

• Age: 60+


• Little to no basic math skills


• Ability to consistently function incoherently


• No sense of urgency or civic duty

At first I was all proud to be doing my part in our electoral process. Then, when I realized who actually operates our electoral process, I cried a few alligator tears. Then I counted some ballots and listened to people talk about their favorite subjects: TV, idiots, fear, TV again, celebrities, other idiots, and food. Hooray democracy!

Oh yeah. I'm going to be the father of a girl in another 20 weeeks, so I've got that going for me.

Waltzer Wonderland

Oh yeah, I totally forgot what you had going for you, which was nice!

So I finished that book Rapture Ready. It was pretty good. A lot of it was a little ho-hum for someone more familiar than not with the subculture about which the book was written, but that's okay. There were a couple parts that made me laugh out loud IRL. Like the part in the introduction when the author is talking to some kid (a friend of his sister-in-law's or something) about the music at a Christian rock festival and the kid says something about how he doesn't need to listen to a lot of secular love songs because they're all, like, "Oh I love you and you left me so now I'm going to break into your house and cut your body into pieces!" In my opinion that would be, probably, the second worst love song ever. The worst love song ever is, obviously, We Built This City (On Rock and Roll)

Also, there's this funny part where the author conducts a fake interview of Alec Billy Stephen(?) Baldwin with all of Mr. Baldwin's responses to the questions pulled from some book that he wrote. I laughed, I cried, I finished the chapter and went on to the next.

If there's one thing I would change about the end of it (the part that that Maclaren dude said was so powerful) is that it was way too reasonable. If you're going to spend 200+ pages pointing out the absurdities of something, don't be so reasonable at the end. Don't be all "Oh, but really it's not that different and why can't we all just get along?"

All in all, though, I would recommend it. If you want to read you can just borrow it....from you local library!

Bad Poetry Thursday: Chocolate Trap

Alphabeta Con-o-rama
by The Great Mulrooney III

I saw a campsite just yesterday
A fire still smoldered
The embers reflecting maroon, yellow, gold and grey
Perhaps a monk once sat there
Eating S'mores and spirits
He leaves the fire burning
But it doesn't mean anything.
It's not symbolism and it's not metaphorical
It's just a fire burning bright in the wilderness
Lighting up the night and then burning out.

I Can Hit A Target Through A Telescope

Being as I am, I was hopelessly unaware of this band called Flobots who have this song called Handlebars. You've probably all heard it, it's the one that's all "I can ride my bike with no handlebars," and "I can keep the rhythm with no metronome," and "I can end the planet in a holocaust," or something like that. I'd heard people singing the first line about the handlebars and I just sort of assumed it was a cheesy nostalgia-heavy song about "wasn't it fun when we were kids?" But it's not. Instead it's a post-modern investigation of the dialectic of innocence and experience, an almost freudian examination of how our hubris and self-centeredness doesn't change so much in form, only in degree. It's a self-reflexive dia/monologue on the state of politics and our own complicity in the actions of others and the effects of those actions. Where is the line, the song asks, between power and purity? Between strength and delusion? Between confidence and conquest? Between my life and your death, or a billion deaths?

All in all it's probably the most pointed and devastating critique of modern culture to come out of the rap-rock genre (did I mention it's a rap-rock song? No? Oops.) since 1996 when The Bloodhound Gang released their seminal gutter-rap jeremiad "I Wish I Was Queer So I Could Get Chicks."

I Guess Maybe I'm Not Ready

So the other day I was reading something on the internet and I heard about this book called "Rapture Ready." I thought it sounded interesting so I went to my library's website (sorry, but I'll pay that $18 fine as soon as I can! Honest!) and put a hold on it. Then, the next day I went to pick it up. I was pretty excited because I always like to read an outsider's account of weird and popular subcultures (THEM by Jon Ronson is a great example) and I figured I was far enough removed from church and religiousness in general to find it funny yet non-condescending.

But then we got in the car and my wife read me the blurbs on the back. Two of them were good, but the third was written by.......wait for it........Brian Maclaren.

Just when I thought I'd finally escaped, there's that shiny bald head again. It's like you can't even throw a book without hitting a book either written or blurb by that dude. I know. I tried it when I got home. I hit a book blurbed and written by him.

Anyway, if I get around to reading the book, I'll let you know how it was, so you've got that going for you, which is nice.

Fifteen Four and A Double Run for a Doz

You totally won't believe this, well, maybe you will, but I totally played in my first ACC-sanctioned cribbage tournament last weekend. I got worked over like a iron horse shoe on a blacksmith's anvil. I went 8-14 with 17 points and 1 skunk. But I was about two standard deviations outside the mean in terms of age, senility and probably incontinence, so I had that going for me.


I'm going to try again in September and I'll let you know how it goes.


It will go exactly the same only hopefully with some more beers to calm my nerves.

Bad Photoetry Thursday: WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE!!!

Adventure on the Hi(biscu)seas

I bought a tree the other day. Or maybe it's a bush, I can't really tell. I bought it at Costco so that I could have a tree and some flowers in my pine-paneled office in my trailer at work. Anyway, I started to think about how come I always want to buy new things and...well, we all know that no one wants to read about that tired topic.

Then, I read this interesting article and learned that my desire to buy new things ad infinitum was all just a deliberate corporate plot initiated about 90 years ago to make sure people didn't stop working and producing things because then they might actually get involved in civic life and the TPTB can't have that now.

It sure feels good knowing that my consumerism isn't at all my fault. Abdicating responsibility tastes like sweet juice squeezed from fresh endangered snozzberries.

Bad Photoetry Thursday: A Hole In My Head

Bad Poetry Thursday: A Metallic Sonata

Blasting Caps In Disarray

Golden handshakes
Gallium parachutes
Vanadium ice cubes
Copper disco flutes
Silver racks and pinions
Palladium keys
Beryllium flautas
Potassium willow trees
Manganese libraires
Magnesium lies
Sodium arc lights
Arsenic apricot pies
Lead mechanical pencils
Plutonium concrete walls
Einsteinium headphones
Bohrium missed calls
Francium death beds
Cesium picture books
Chromium asphalt
Calcium meat hooks.

Slight Modifications May Be Performed As Needed

So, according to the Wall Street Journal (among other sources), maybe I wasn't that far off 18 months ago when I first started worrying and was even less far off nearly a year ago. And all this time I thought that I was probably just letting my disillusionment, paranoia and anger run away with me.

The weirdest thing is that there is a decent chance I was ahead of the curve! I haven't been ahead of any curves since I was in college. And just like those curves, being ahead of this one will be monumentally meaningless.

But forgetting the real world and the actual state of human existence, wouldn't it be awesome if rabbits could talk?! I was telling my son a story last night in which he and some now-far-removed friends were playing baseball with a bunch (well, one rabbit named Bunkers, one cat named Ratatat and one lizard named Alfred) of talking animals. It sounded wicked fun. Except when he demanded that I end the story with a vicious snowstorm. I didn't like that part. What I particularly don't like about it is that it's still only April. Vicious snowstorms are decidedly not out of the picture yet.

And also, just because I haven't done it in a while: There are 10 links in this post

Building a Foundation

So a friend of mine recommended some Isaac Asimov books to me and I went to a gigantic used book store (>1,000,000 books) and bought them: the original three Foundation "novels."

Let me say this: what they lack in grandiosity, they make up for with interesting characters. That is, there is absolutely nothing they lack in grandiosity and an absolute dearth of characters that you care about, or are really even interested in.

Maybe I should stop taking recommendations from a guy who doesn't read fiction. I'd tell him what I think about the books, but he's not here. He's in Peru tripping with some shamans. I'm not even making that up.

Seriously.

Earth Day 2008: The Phantom Menace

Did you know that today is Earth Day 2008? Well, I did. I remember because somewhere in my brain I've stored the fact that April 22nd is the day that I'm supposed to care about the earth The Earth. It's a lot like Grandparents' Day except that I remember when Earth Day is.

Anyway, I wanted to show The Earth that I cared, so I gave him/her (The Earth is creepily androgynous, kind of like a horribly stereotyped "goth" teenager. Actually, exactly like a nonexistent stereotype of a "goth" teenager.) a call.

The Earth: Hello?

Me: Hello? The Earth?

The Earth: Yeah, what do you want.

Me: Oh, nothing really. How are you doing.

The Earth: How am I doing? Do you even need to ask? I would think that in your superb understanding you would know that my soul is full of a rainy miasma.

Me: I see. I hate those miasmas. Well, I just wanted to let you know that I care about you, okay?

The Earth: You don't care about me! Nobody cares about me! The world is a vampire slowly sucking my lifeblood. Nobody understands my magick or my rainy soul. I hate you.

Me: Okay, talk to you later.

The Earth: .....

Me: Goodbye.

The Earth: Can I have $50?

Me: Goodbye. *click*. Damn teenagers.

So there you have it. A totally worthless experience. Maybe I'll try back in again in a couple billion years. The Earth has a lot of growing up to do right now.

P.S. Did you know that if you stopped eating meat, started growing food in your own garden, started biking to work/school, used a clothesline instead of a dryer, changed all your light bulbs to CFLs, and started wearing sweaters because you turned your heat down to 60 instead of 70 it would make exactly zero difference to The Earth?



Not that I'm saying not to do those things. I mean, I'm even doing some of them. Just don't think they're going to make any kind of a difference.

Seven Minute Socks

So, today is the fourth day that I've ridden my bike to work. From my house it's about twelve-and-a-quarter miles to my trailer. Last Thursday, I made the ride in 1 hour and 6 minutes. Today I made the ride in 1 hour and 4 minutes. So, one day, 2 minutes off my time. I gotta keep that up because, well, check out the chart.



After only 34 days of riding I will be getting to work in, literally, no time at all. Saving gas money and time! How about that!

Pondering the Imponderable

Sometimes I wonder if I'm part of the Solution, or part of the Problem.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm part of the Cure, or part of Joy Division.

When You Wish Upon a Star

I've had a grueling schedule around here of late. Take this last weekend for instance.

Friday Night: I don't remember.

Saturday: Something or other and then some bike riding.

Sunday: More bike riding and grilling.

I'm exhausted just looking at that schedule. No wonder I only ever post here once a month. Well, that and the fact that

The Coming Spring-pocalypse

So, recently I've been looking forward to the start of spring. Granted, it's still over a month away here in Northern South-eastern Michigan, but that's okay. Part of my looking forward to slightly warmer weather ("slightly warmer" means "probably no snow") is that I want to get outside and go camping and other white person stuff. One of the activities I particularly want to learn how to do is orienteering, the art of navigating the woods with only a topographical map and a compass. I believe it's a skill that will come in very handy at some point in the future if I have to walk my way from Kentucky to, uh, anywhere other than Kentucky. Thus, to learn a new skill I went to the first place one goes to when one wants to learn a new skill. Yep, the internet. However, I got distracted and started reading webcomics and looking at horrible, horrible pictures. Since the information superhighway didn't have an exit for my destination, I decided to go where poor people go to learn things. Yep, the library. At the library they had a whole section on outdoor, white person skills. There were at least two books on orienteering. On the cover of one of them, there was this chick in a brightly colored spandex outfit looking at a compass and jogging through the woods. On the cover of the other one there was this dude in a brightly colored spandex outfit looking at a compass and jumping over a log. If that's the official uniform, I am having severe second thoughts.