miscellaneous

Gotta give credit: these were posted by a pup at Carnegie Mellon

(http://www.andrew.cmu.edu/user/jbistlin/).

Granted, I'm a bit punchy - a wounded mom has left me tired and stressed this week - but Mr. Giggles made me smile. By the time I got to the guy and his bird and his dog (and his live-in ex-wife), I was beside myself with laughter.

The third photo was a great reminder of the ignorance of bigotry.

mostly Palin

The above photo was taken in Harris County, PA. I hope it represents a very small fragment of the population. I also hope the sign's owner and his Klan buddies isn't registered.

McCain's really bringing out the best in his followers. I briefly thought he was going to take the high road, but he immediately backslid.

It flummoxes me that Todd Palin (Alaska's "First Gentleman") behaves as though he is Alaska's co-governor. In a somber editorial discussing Sarah Palins' abuse of power (with of course the focus on "Troopergate"), the Washington Post states "within a few weeks of Ms. Palin's inauguration, her newly installed public safety commissioner, Walter Monegan, was summoned to a meeting with the governor's husband, Todd Palin, at which the "First Gentleman" pressed Mr. Monegan to reexamine the already concluded disciplinary case against Mr. Wooten." Under what authority is the "First Gentleman" allowed to "summon" public servants to meetings?

Palin documented his own meddling the day before Branchflower's findings were made public, even though his statement directly contradicted his own assertion that he had not been involved in "Troopergate."

If Michelle Obama "summoned" anyone to discuss any sort of official business, let alone "pressing" that person to take action, she would have her ears pinned back by the conservative talking heads. Actually, the liberal pundits would also rightly take her to task. Remember when Bill Clinton was excoriated by having the temerity to state that Americans got a 'two-fer' when they voted for him? Even Hillary caught flak, as though his statement demonstrated her overarching ambition.

I'm surprised Todd Palin is such a non-issue. It's been an issue to me since I first learned Governor Palin refused to release thousands of pieces of government email, citing executive privilege. She copied her husband on much of the 'official' email. (Her use of executive privilege was eerily Cheneyesque.)

As a GS-13, I have a much better grasp of ethics than Alaska's governor. That bothers me. A lot.

And yikes, I can't believe Palin used her daughter as a shield in a failed attempt to prevent being booed when she dropped the puck at the Philly game. "It's OK, honey - just keep smiling. Yes, you're getting booed." How cynical. How un-maternal. What a sterling example of Republican family values.

In other disturbing news, someone else is using 'brain detritus' as a blog name. I've used the term for years, but this person was there first. And s/he posted this: Reasons to be a nun: If you marry god, you get all his property when he dies. I like this person.

VOTE! Take folks to the polls! Staff phone banks!

The mind boggles

It's hard to get laughs out of watching the economy free-fall. I did find a way to amuse myself and friends - a buddy sent me the Sarah Palin baby name generator. My neocon former boss is, aptly, Cheney Wolfowitz.

Humor aside, I was naive enough to be caught off guard by McCain's cynical, pandering choice of Palin. She scares me. A lot. And the more I read, the more frightened I become. My only comfort is that the polls show Obama with a lead. Maybe we will vote intelligently. Dare I hope? I suffer from congnitive dissonance to a degree that it's hard to gauge the mood of the public. (I've felt that way since the Reagan years (as I watch the economy crumble, I can track it to Reagan's popular deregulation policies), so it's nothing new.) I can barely watch Palin interviews, which works out since she has consented to so few. A writer from the Washington Post said listening to Palin's tortured syntax as she tries to articulate her beliefs reminds her of watching a clip of a polar bear moving from one small ice cap to the next - "Will he make it? Yes, he made that one. Oh no, here's another...will he make it? Barely." (How can Palin not support polar bears, for god's sake?)

This articulates my rage quite nicely, thank you.

I also found this enlightening. It was originally a letter Kilkenny wrote to 40 friends and family members because she believed they should make an informed decision about Palin, and she asked that it not be posted to the internet (so much for that).

Last night's debate floored me. I was (figuratively) peeking between my fingers as I witnessed McCain channel Nixon. He grimaced, winked, twitched, chortled humorlessly, worked his jaw as though he was physically holding back a verbal assault, and studiously avoided making eye contact with Obama to the degree that he was completely disrespectful of his fellow candidate. I found his utter lack of respect surprising - it certainly wasn't statesmanlike, much less presidential.

McCain's barely disguised ill temper spotlighted his scariest aspect - fundamental anger that so clearly lurks below his vain attempts to be folksy and friendly. Maybe it's just me, but anger is not an an attibute I look for in a president. Clearly I'm no McCain supporter, but I think there was a better, more decent politician buried in McCain before this campaign. I believe this run for the White House has brought out the absolute worst in him - he's given up any shred of decency in his final desperate bid.

That said, I was still surprised at how poorly he performed. The stakes were high - he finally won the primaries (always a bridesmaid...) - but he simply could not mask his...anger. He's a bitter, scary man. Temperament is the issue, and to put it kindly, McCain has shown that at best he lacks serenity.

Oh, and send Rove to jail!

Check this out: http://sendkarlrovetojail.com/

Please sign the petition. This administration is so lawless...

government waste

OK, I work for the DOD. Where *I* work, people generally try to do the right thing, and not waste (not to sound trite, but it's so true) your taxpayer dollars. (My naivete' is being tested lately, and I am all too frequently reminded that greed is a basic aspect of human nature that is celebrated and rewarded by many, much as it was in the eighties and as it has been through history.) Still, this shit just frosts me.

Bush, McCain and company pander to voters' fear so we'll continue to vote for the big daddy who will best see us through crises both current (the Iraq war that the Bush administration bamboozled us into) and future (watch out for Iran!). I'm so much more afraid of the morally bankrupt climate in Washington that allows the Air Force top leadership to be addle-pated enough to spend counter-terrorism funds on '"comfort capsules" to be installed on military planes that ferry senior officers and civilian leaders around the world, with at least four top generals involved in design details such as the color of the capsules' carpet and leather chairs.' Here's the clincher: 'Changing the seat color and pockets alone was estimated in a March 12 internal document to cost at least $68,240.'

Were I religious, I'd pray this mess is a career ender for all who are involved with this shameful waste of money.

I won't get started on the war profiteers who should be jailed...

My new hero!

His name is L.F. Eason. He was the director of North Carolina's Standards Laboratory until this week, when he opted to retire rather than fly the flag at half staff in honor of Jesse Helms. What a grand gesture!

Eason followed his heart. He thought Helms' first election was a fluke, but asserts that Helms was able to establish a core of supporters who based their votes on fear, and so he continued to win reelection. I remember the Helms years. I absolutely could not believe that a state that produced so many fine writers also elected a senator of his ilk.

And speaking of terrific North Carolina authors, I heard Jill McCorkle read from her new book in 1989, when Helms was in the midst of a tough reelection campaign against Harvey Gantt. When I had the opportunity to speak with her, I told her how much I admired so many authors who hail from North Carolina, and expressed my loathing for Jesse Helms. She drawled, "Oh, Jesse - we're so embahhrrassed." She was so charming. When Helms won (after his last minute racist ad barrage), I received a postcard from McCorkle that ended, "P.S. Boo, Jesse!" This represents the only fond thought that comes to mind when I think of Helms. I think it's pretty cruel to call someone a waste of skin, but Helms and Strom Thurmond (or Sperm, as my brother calls him) come pretty close. Frickin' racists.

Anyone who's curious about Jesse Helms' history can read about him here. I will take a holiday from reality and pretend he never existed for a while, until I feel the need to remember the evil that can happen when sheeple vote from fear, as I fear many will in the upcoming presidential election. (Hint: McCain is already working on making you afraid, very afraid.)

ignorant voters

I keep thinking I'm as disillusioned by politics as I can get, but then I read an article like this. I'm appalled by a 74-year-old resident of Findlay, Ohio, named Jim Peterman, who sounds reasonably intelligent, but who chooses to believe what his friends and neighbors say about Barack Obama rather than trust the facts as printed in the newspapers and trustworthy blogs, broadcast in non-Fox-news shows, and available from a plethora of other reliable news sources if an intelligent voter cares to do a bit of research. This yahoo believes that "Barack Obama, born in Africa, is a possibly gay Muslim racist who refuses to recite the Pledge of Allegiance." (Note that those aren't his words; this is a quote from another resident who spouts the lies that most Findlay residents are happy to believe. Findlay's astute analysis? ""I don't know. The whole thing just scares me," Peterman said. "I'm almost starting to feel like the best choice is not voting at all."")

Peterman is a card-carrying patriot. This is true because he flies a flag in his front yard and has since 1960. His entire neighborhood is simply awash in unabashed displays of red, white and blue, from painted windows to multiple flags per household, which is a result of one-upmanship. Findlay was officially dubbed "Flag City, USA" by the House of Representatives, courtesy of a local congressman. So Findlayians must be patriots, yes? If this is the definition, I am not and never will be a patriot. For me, patriotism is personal, and a big part of it is casting the most informed votes possible.

But back to Findlay's peculiar brand of intellectual patriotism. Leroy Pollard, another political scholar and resident of Findlay, Ohio, states, ""I understand he's from Africa, and that the first thing he's going to do if he gets into office is bring his family over here, illegally. He's got that racist [pastor] who practically raised him, and then there's the Muslim thing. He's just not presidential material, if you ask me."

Peterman is opposed to the war and doesn't much like McCain. He's thinking he'll just not vote, though. This Obama character is too iffy. How can Peterman trust him? His buddies can't be wrong - could they?

Talk about sheeple.

This is one of the scariest articles I've read during this election. It makes me want to call this Peterson guy and ask him what he's using in place of a brain. It makes me want to fly to Findlay to take a look at these brain-dead Stepford voters for myself. Well, I guess there's no rush. The dumbing down of the US isn't exactly a new story - we'll probably continue this decline for a long time, much to our detriment.

Apparently Findlay's economy is crappy, which makes it even scarier that residents of Findlay supporting a presidential candidate like McCain who confessed he doesn't know much about the economy - this while he was running for president. (When would be a good time to bone up? After you're in office?) Findlay residents must not mind McCain's vile temper - he's on record as having referred to his current wife (not the one who waited for McCain to come home from Vietnam, only to be dumped for Cindy) as an effing c word - sorry to be so demure, but that's one word I just won't use. I suppose Findlay residents wouldn't believe that. It's much easier to question the ethics of a racially suspect candidate. (Findlay is 93% white.)

I'd love to write a more coherent rant about Findlay and Peterson, but I'm too sad, too angry, and too deeply offended. Most of all, I'm too worried that the American voters will once again get the president they deserve.

Buddy Holly's widow and Anne Lamott

There's a weird pairing.

I love Anne Lamott, and am re-reading "Operating Instructions." Although I didn't have kids and can't claim much in the way of maternal urges, Lamott's journal of her son's first year, during which she also lost her best friend to cancer, is an amazing book. I had completely forgotten that this is where I stole her "My mind is a bad neighborhood" quote. (I thought I'd at least embroidered upon it when I added that I don't want to travel through it unaccompanied, but nope - turns out that was Lamott's too.)

Lamott's "All New People" is one of my absolute favorite novels.

Anyhoo, I noticed that there was only a brief mention of Buddy Holly's widow at the Buddy Holly Center in Lubbock, and saw not one photo. I vaguely remembered from reading about her during the making of the Gary Busey Buddy Holly movie that she was kinda money grubbing and frankly sounded like someone I would never want to meet, but I hoped I was wrong. So I sniffed around (read: asked my second cousin, then Googled her when I got home) and discovered she was a Yoko Ono before her time. Lubbock had to rename Buddy Holly Blvd (or Ave or somesuch) to The Crickets St (or Rd or...) because financial negotiations soured -the former Ms. Holly, who remarried, had kids and has grandkids, wanted a small fortune along with the 15% cut of merchandise which she already received and continues to get. It's sad, but it also speaks to that little smarmy snarky part of me that likes to think badly of people.

This is where Anne Lamott comes in. In "Operating Instructions," Lamott describes a "fabulously wealthy" woman who's really nasty: "She has a worm inside of her. She has to keep feeding it grim bits, like mean gossip and bad news about other people." I think most of us have a worm inside us. I know I do. (I met someone a few months ago who doesn't have much of a worm (ABBA shout-out!). And my brother isn't very wormy either.) I don't think I'm incredibly wormy, but I know I'm way wormier than I'd like to be. Lamott says, "I'm a little bit too much like this person for comfort. My worm is not quite as big as hers, but maybe it will be with age."

I've got to keep a close eye on my worm.

Ted Kennedy and my job

I went to DC in the eighties for a pro-choice march. (My ex always said we got married and my mom and I went on the honeymoon.) It was grand - huge, great turn-out. My favorite sign read "Post-menopausal women nostalgic for choice."

We headed over to watch the senate in action. At the time I was a political junkie - I wasn't burnt out because I had yet to realize this country could be so foolishly sidetracked by things like a president's sex life, and I thought it was an anomaly that a president could get elected by mouthing empty slogans like "Read my lips - no new taxes."

I had a grand time. A vote was called, so the senators wandered onto the floor. I saw Alan Cranston and thought that was pretty cool - I always admired his politics. Then Ted Kennedy ambled along. He actually prowled like a lion...he reminded me of my cat. He really had a presence. Of course, none of that would matter if he wasn't speaking up for the people who are usually ignored in political campaigns and debates. I admired and admire him so much. I remember leaning over the railing to see more closely and pointing him out to my mom, who hissed, "Senate groupie!" What a day.

Today at work I mentioned how sad I was to hear of Kennedy's malignant brain tumor. Our secretary said, "You know what I think? The world's better off with one less liberal." Wow. It was like someone ripped her face off and showed the pure ugly underneath. I mean, I loathe and despise Rush Limbaugh for being the hater that he is, but I wouldn't wish cancer on him. I was so stunned I didn't even answer, which later made me ashamed because I lost an opportunity to speak up.

So later, I was in her office with a coworker and I told him, "X wishes I were dead." She looked puzzled, and I said, "I'm a liberal, and you said the world is better off with one less liberal." She assured me I wasn't really a liberal (and I assured her I really was, and my coworker assured her I really was). It wasn't a snappy rejoinder I can quote the rest of my life, and I don't know what I could have said that would have been snazzier, but I'm still floored.

I forget how Kennedy (and Jane Fonda) still stir up such antipathy in people. I just don't get it. I truly loathe and despise George Bush, primarily because he has blood on his hands, and generally because he's responsible for the unspeakable state this country is in, financially and in about every other way I can think of (of course, were I a bazillionaire (sp?) I'd love him). I examined my conscience, and I feel comfortable stating that I really don't wish he had a malignant brain tumor.

That's work in a nutshell.

Lubbock, TX

Boy howdy, did I have a grand time in Texas.

Actually, Lubbock was pretty nice. The denizens were, anyway. I found them to be much friendlier than those folks I run across (and would frequently like to run over) in San Diego.

Overheard in an Applebee's bathroom stall: "Jesus put a baby in mommy's stomach." Now maybe it's just me, but were I a kid, I'd find that creepier than the truth.

For a funnier exchange (if you're not stuck in the middle of it), see Nicole's 'end times' conversation.

I considered the trip a success for the sole reason that Josh now appreciates Buddy Holly's huge impact on rock 'n' roll. He was kind enough to take me to the Buddy Holly Center, which was pretty cool. (Josh was also kind enough to pretend he was wearing his new Buddy Holly shades into the grocery store while stealthily replacing them with his normal ones, thereby leaving me geeking around in oversized horn rimmed glasses.)

Josh and Nicole made a difficult trip bearable and as fun as it could possibly be. Thanks, kids. (And your kids are great.)

Buddy Holly had 20 top ten hits in his brief (18 month) career. How impressive is that?

Brady Kiesling

I just learned that the definition of 'oderint dum metuantoderint dum metuant' is "Let them hate so long as they fear." Kinda sounds like it should be our president's motto, eh? I came across this when I searched for Brady Kiesling's letter of resignation, written to Colin Powell in 2003.

I felt sad and very isolated in my opposition to the war, probably primarily because of where I worked.

I grew up in the sixties, eating dinner with my family while watching the news, listening to Walter Cronkhite's nightly death tally. I had an anti-war poster in my closet (which I tried to make into a clubhouse by tacking the poster up and reading with a flashlight - very stark, and not a very original idea). My best friends' mother had the then-ubiquitous "War is bad for children and other living things" poster in her kitchen. My dad spoke at anti-war moratoriums and was bashed by name in the Bakersfield newspaper's letters to the editor, just above the block of print that said the newspaper wouldn't print letters that attacked people by name. (Dad was unpopular with the ultra-conservative Bako denizens, but he had a strong following among his hippie students.) Dad and mom were tired of watching former students go to war and not come home, or not come home functioning very well. They worried more as they watched my older brothers get closer to draft age.

During the seventies, I first started seeing homeless people in Bakersfield, guys who had come home not at all OK, guys who scared us as we went into drugstores. We knew enough despite our fear to be sympathetic. I think in our naivetee we called them 'shellshocked.'

So in 2001 (or 2002), it's time for another war. I felt such an impotent rage, such an incredible, painful frustration knowing that we were being marched inexorably to war, and shifting our focus from Bin Laden to Iraq. I had a couple of vividly violent nightmares, so stopped reading the paper or watching the news. (The latter decision wasn't hard - television news is such crap there's not much point in watching.)

I eventually came across this letter, written by career diplomat Brady Kiesling. I was so moved by it, I posted on my cubicle wall just to give me comfort in a crazy world. Three years later, I found myself discussing politics with my former sister-in-law, her brother and his partner. I mentioned the letter and asked if either of them had read it. It turned out Brady knew Kathy from UC Berkeley, and Kathy was quite impressed when she read his letter shortly after it was published. Small world! salon.com also wrote about it, saying the week the news hit there were 800 Google hits. The article continues, "And just last week on the Senate floor, Patrick Leahy, D-Vt., mentioned Kiesling's "eloquent and heartfelt explanation" for resigning, and wondered how many other U.S. diplomats privately felt the same way. " You can read the salon.com interview with Brady Kiesling here.

I felt less alone. This beautifully written, heartbreaking letter to Colin Powell (who sucked it up with Bush for way too long), shows that there were people of great integrity, who were willing to give up their long diplomatic carreers because they couldn't be jaded enough to try to sell this administration's war. Brady Kiesling's letter made me feel like I lived less alone in a crazy world.

And I felt a renewed bond with Kathy, from whom I learned many of my early feminist views just by listening to her discuss politics (e.g. couldn't eat $100 grand bars because they're made by the company that covinced women in Africa it's better to drink their supplements, then their babies get ill because they don't get their mother's immunities...etc.) and indicate by her speech and bearing that women should be respected for their intelligence, and boy, you couldn't top Kathy's smarts. (I can't mention how attractive she was (and is) because we shouldn't pay attention to looks when we want ourselves to be taken seriously for our minds...)

I'd been out of touch with Kathy for at least fifteen years, and to find out that I'd hung Kiesling's letter in my drab DoD cubicle, and she'd known him in grad school and was equally moved by his letter, written two years before we re-met.

That's my little story. I may regret writing it because I'm feeling tired so it may not read too coherently. Too bad.

I am not computer literate

In a ridiculous attempt to hide my userid, since it revealed my name and I realized I can't get snarky about work, I jumped through hoops creating a new userid that is only funny to my brother and me (well, so what?), and making me (and my ridiculously long email address) co-author of my blog, *then* deleting the old me, etc. What a mess. All this effort because I want to try blogging.


And what really honks me off is that I deleted the post I wrote this morning. Of course I waxed clever.


I sang the praises of Gene Weingarten's blog. It's strange that his humor column isn't very funny to me, but his blog is great. Yesterday's blog contained a long email exchange between a goverment employee (who for that reason chose to remain anonymous) and a Nigerian scammer. The whole 'government has no sense of humor' thing got me to thinking about what I can't say openly on my blog, so...now I sprung from Zeus, fully formed and mid-blog.


My favorite part of yesterday's blog (which I did not read on the government's time) was the lively discussion about whether the bikini was yellow ("itsy bitsy teeny weeny yellow polka dot bikini") or the polka dots were yellow. I assumed the former. From the blog, I learned this was "an issue of "adjectival scope," i.e., the adjective "yellow" can have scope over "polka dot," together making an adjective phrase that modifies bikini (that's the one with the yellow dots), or it can have scope over "polka dot bikini"(the suit is yellow, with any color dots. maybe even a different shade of yellow dots!)." Cool. Unfortunately, it's an argument for more commas, which I loathe.


I just learned of entrenched sexism in a group of employees at work. I had no clue. They blow off their (female) administrative staff, and joke about having to take the women seriously or they'll make work life miserable, etc. And yet today's young women are reluctant to call themselves feminists. I just don't get that. First, we should all stick up for any underdogs. Isn't that part of being a decent human? Isn't that what Jesus wanted, if anyone is truly interested in living his/her life following Jesus' principles? Second, do we just have amnesia or are we flat out stupid? (My mom's favorite Gore Vidal phrase is the United States of Amnesia.) I'm figuring out what I can do. I wasn't directly told, so my options are limited and probably useless, but I can't do nothing.


(On the 'what would jesus do' subject, I stole an idea from my brilliant friend and Don Quixote scholar, Kathleen, and had bracelets made for us with this engraving: "WWDQD." I love it.)

ah, the old music...

It seemed like a good day to start by listening to Jimi Hendrix, which got me to thinking...

In the day (which shall remain vague), I thought the point of singing along was to exactly mimic whoever I was singing along to, which was why I had Janis down in junior high..."one day up neah Saleenz Lah-ow, I le' him slip away...heze lookin' for that home, an' I hope he fi-i-inze i-uh..." (Feature a dorky 12 year old (or whatever, you do the math) singing the blues, as though not getting the pair of Dittos I wanted gave me a leg up on getting what Janis Joplin was all about.) I thought the point was to ape every nuance of singer, until I heard my brother getting hysterical on the other side of my bedroom door. I was ashamed, abashed, annoyed.

Little did I know my skills would later serve me well when I could torment my brother with my (dare I say) amazing ability to croon Olivia Newton John's "Have You Never Been Mellow." Of all the putrid top 40 songs, that was one of the worst.

My O. Henry twist: I still can't get that fucking song out of my mind.

Here's the other sad part. I remember now that my brother begged me to sing that song for him. It was his free entertainment. (All his, and later my, spare change went to pot, so we had to make do. I'm sure pot made me a lot funnier to him.)

And here I am, stuck with "Now I don't mean to make you frown; now I just want you to slow down.." followed by lots of trills and coos.

All of this sprang fully formed from my brain when I had a shite day at work last week and soothed my soul by honking along with "Summertime." Ultimately I just had to laugh at myself. Purpose served.

Sometimes for middle aged kicks, I leave my windows down so the guards at work understand that middle aged women don't all listen to crap like old Olivia Newton John, American Idols or Muzak. I love it when they can't hear me over my music.

Random thought: I slipped into Nordstrom for underwear (if I can't splurge on non-ride-ups, what's the point of a salary?) and ran into three women with whom I work, at three separate times. Something about running into three (perfectly nice) well-heeled co-workers while I'm out and about for no longer than five minutes in a store that makes me feel very alien (as the pianist played the Stones) made me not like me, if indeed that was the essential me.

This is very anal, but for some reason I feel I should add I only smoked pot in high school, and stopped when it got 'good' (read: fogged my mind completely and made me a driveling idiot).

Lauren Henderson

"...her little girls looked like miniature versions of herself; big gold earrings almost as large as their tiny white ears, hair pulled tightly back into high ponytails, bomber jackets over skintight printed leggings. All they neeeded were their mother's high heels. You could probably buy those for children nowadays too. I'd seen four-year-olds on the beach in miniature leopard skin bikinis, probably manufactured by children in the Far East not much bigger than themselves who earned twopence a day. From child labor to child porn in one easy step." (from My Lurid Past)

I love authors who can so ably articulate a rant I didn't even know I'd so staunchly agree with.

Caroline Kennedy

Hahaha...I won't type the name of the hateful religious group who plans to picket Heath Ledger's funeral if they can figure out the location, just like they picket those of Iraq soldiers. If there is a god, she'll take care of those loathesome humans. (Credit 23/6 - some of the new, most of thetime.)

Caroline Kennedy is an admirable, intelligent woman. She wrote this op-ed piece, published in today's NY Times. Her deliberate absence from the political arena makes her Obama endorsement that much more meaningful. I'm thrilled that Obama is not only getting the youth vote, but that youth are finally voting again. They're inheriting this poor world (and earth), and if they don't care, why should anyone?

I'm tickled that Obama is doing so well, and disappointed that Clinton's campaign is stooping to conquer. I'm especially saddened by Bill's behavior. I love Bill. And I'm not nearly alone, according to a poll I read (which I shouldn't quote because I can't find the source article, although I could have sworn it was in last week's on-line Washington Post, which I read whilst in a boring training class, during which the cadaverous-in-both-happearance-and-demeanor instructor read from slides) [pause for deep intake of breath], which demonstrated quite clearly how favorably both Republicans *and* Democrats recall his presidency.

I now read/hear more and more people echoing what two self-employed friends said some time ago, not referring to the campaigns: "I had more money in my pocket thank I do now [with Bush as president]." And one of those friends is downright apolitical. The apolitical friend also thinks Bush's presidency has been a train wreck.

I get to see my good friend Kathy next month. I have to get a spina tap to do it, but that's a small price to pay. The perks of her last job included an office across from the upcoming Democratic convention. I think that was her main regret when she decided to take her fabulous, well deserved new job.

Damn, I had another language pet peeve to snark about, but unfortunately I can't get it exactly right. I'm having a day in which I'm struggling for words. It has something to do with the speaker trying to convey the huge size of x, but negating it by saying 'sort of'' or something similar.

Along the lines of WTF, why doesn't Lieberman just switch to the Republican part? What a weasel. He should have been stripped of his committees &c when he was such a spoiler in 2006.

Enough for now.

Vote! (Unless you plan to vote Republican. And if that's the case, why are you reading this?)

George McGovern

George McGovern made sense in the '70s and he's relevant today. That he lost the election is as inexplicable as Kerry losing the last election. (Oh, yeah, one common theme is the Republican's reprehensible slimy tactics. God, I want the Democrats to get a spine this time.)

I may have been parroting my parents' views back when I had a "McGovern" button pinned on my pink corduroy jumper for an elementary school picture, but as I grew older and understood my parent's politics (and eventually argued successfully with my dad and convinced him to change his mind on a state proposition - a true coming-of-age moment), I was proud of them for their humane, well-reasoned and almost dangerous (we lived in Bakersfield, where dad inspire vitriolic letters to the editor in the local paper) political views. (The previous is a ridiculously long sentence, but I haven't the time to make it prettier.)

I'm reading Stephen Colbert's new book. It makes me laugh out loud. It's ironic that he's so ridiculous when all he's really doing is aping O'Reilly. Not that staying in character is an easy feat. How can anyone watch O'Reilly? My brother has a friend who gets stoned and watches O'Reilly with the volume off, lauging hysterically the whole time.

When did "wrong" become common usage? (As in "That's just wrong," or "It's wrong but it's funny.") I keep hearing people use it, and came across it several times in the last issue of Entertainment Weekly. People say it about, say, edgy humor that some might offensive. I think it may have started as more of an apologety (e.g. "I know I shouldn't think this is funny because it seems racist/sexist/what-have-youist, but I have to confess it slays me."), and now the usage is more of a reflex.

Just curious. I'm a nerd like that.

I attended a work-related class, and a speaker repeatedy said "not so much" when he provided comparisons. (Here's an example: "Blogs can be great - I found one today that's really well written, and informative. My blog? Not so much."). Then NPR ran a story about the origin of the phrase, They tracked it back as far as they could, which was to "Buffy, the Vampire Slayer."

As I said, I'm nerdy enough to find this interesting. In fact, I stayed in my car to hear the end of the story, even though I was parked in the driveway by then. (Kind of like when I was in HS and my best friend and I would hear the start of one of our favorite songs on the radio right when we got to my house, so we'd drive around the block until it was over. Obviously gas was cheaper. (Who am I trying to kid? We'd have been dumb enough to do it anyway.))

I love reading obituaries, and have a big, fat book of interesting NY Times obits. I understand there's volume of th London Observer's best obits. I must look for it. I keep meaning to write mine, but I can't decide whether to go all romantic and gothic (with choirs of angels carrying me to heaven on their feathered wings) or create a fabulous past, perhaps in a Zelig-like way.

introverts

This article resonates with me. (Thanks, Megan!)

I finished Sullivan's What a Woman Must Do. She excels at capturing a time and place - in this case, a small Minnesota town in the early fifties - but her novels, with the exception of The Cape Ann[e?], fulfill the promise. My ex grew up in Minot, ND, and his wonderful aunt has a home in Douglas (population 80). From the wonderful, funny stories they told, Sullivan paints an accurate picture of the setting, era, values and language.

I still wouldn' recommend the book. Read The Cape Ann instead...the characters are more fully realized.

Ha! I found my hook

Ha, a thought struck me. I can discuss books. Well, one sided discussions is an oxymoron, isn't it? You know what I mean, though (I'm referring to my scads of readers).

I spend too much money on books, but there are worse things to spend my salary on. I'd go to the library but I'm too disorganized and I know the fines would pile up. Plus, I'm very noisy (unintentionally). I'd probably get sushed alot. And finally, library hours are lousy and have been since Prop 13. (OK, I can hold a grudge, especially a political one. I'd have probably had a "Don't Blame Me - I Voted for Helen Gahagan Douglas" bumper sticker on my car.) No wonder we're a semi-literate society.

I just finished Queen of the Oddballs, by Hillary Carlip. It was inspiring to read about someone making a living fearlessly (juggling, writing scripts, etc.), but ultimately there wasn't any there there. She is, however, responsible for www.freshyarn.com, which publishes great essays.

Now I'm onto Sicken, by Julia Gregory, whose mother suffered from Munchausen by Proxy. Well, it's probably more accuate to say the author suffered from her mother's MBP. If I'm not feeling perky I'll have to postpone reading it , I'm afraid - that plus Leonard Cohen might make me open my veins lengthwise. Luckily I just received a book by Faith Sullivan (I loved The Cape Ann), and so I may resort to it first.

And speaking of me and apropos of nothing, unfortunately the picture of me you may have noticed is fairly accurate, except that a) I lost my glasses and need a new pair, and b) my cubicle has been upgraded to a horrific one with plexiglass dividers so everyone can watch and hear everyone else's business. But I'm moving into an office from wich I can see the bay and North Island. I'm so pleased I could purr.

And you should look at this website:

http://urbanprojekts.com/

He's a damned fine artist.

Gore Vidal - a man before his time

From An Evening With Richard Nixon,by Gore Vidal: "Over the years I have spoken about politics to quite a few audiences, and I'm continually struck by their collective ignorance - or perhaps lack of memory is a more tactful way of putting it. They don't know who did what last week, much less ten years ago, and they don't want to be told." Although Vidal was referring to Nixon, the sentiment rings true today just as it did in 1972.

"Mission accomplished," anyone?

3,907 members of the U.S. military have been killed in Iraq to date. I'll have to locate the number of Iraqi civilian deaths we're responsible for.

Please remember this: Obama didn't vote for the war.

OBAMA!

Galee, galay (sp)...Obama won the Iowa caucuses! I'm so excited I'm using exclamation points, which I usually eschew. Maybe voters are getting smarter and more involved.

To the left, pleas see where I'm going in two years, for my 50th bday.

I'm going with my friend, pictured at the top of this post. She's the chick. The guy is another friend. My friend will be celebrating her 40th. (She's a kid, but a very wise one.)

Back to immediately important news: You should contribute to Obama. Soon. Just a tad, if you can, to show your support. Really. He's received lots of small contributions that have added up, from people just like you. And if you don't support him one way or another, you will be forced to hush if we get Giuliani for president. AND if you don't see anything wrong with that, read http://www.vanityfair.com/politics/features/2008/01/giuliani200801. If you think this country is owned by its wealthiest citizens, just watch as we continue our trip to hell in a handbasket.

I'm learning this new-fangled web bidness...

I plan to discuss whatever comes to mind.

I'm currently thinking about politics (I believe I'm supporting Obama but am pretty tired of the whole process). I just received a Gene Vincent CD after reading http://ladimensiondetrastos.blogspot.com/2007/12/behold-economic-solo.html Well damn, I thought I knew how to reference links in that clever way of re-titling it (you know, don't pretend you don't), but I can't. If anyone happens on this and understands my reference, let me know.

I have the handsomest cat on earth. I owe this blog a pic.