"You tell me, How does it make you feel? You tell me what's real"

I feel like a lot of well-meaning individuals are undermining their own political agendas* by being under-informed.

A woman (whom I've never met, but) has been involved in many arguments (online, so quoting is made easy!) with friends of mine, has said the following:
"On the topic of the shooter from Ft Hood, he will be made out to be someone who's just "crazy" or something. there will be excuses, and God knows why. The guy has middle eastern ties and now there is speculation that he had extremist views as well based on internet posts made by him. This is the riff raff we're allowing in our military. It does not make me feel very secure as an American!"

So, what about people with "extreme" Christian views? Should we keep out that "riff raff" too? I know lots of Christians who would be honored to be called "radical," or "extreme." Seriously, standing up and defending your belief in the resurrection of a human from death by crucifixion is pretty extreme. Conviction shouldn't be something to be ashamed of. So what if this soldier was "radical" about his beliefs? None of the posts by the shooter to whom she's referring said anything about killing people.

Later in the arguement, after Christian organizations which have been labeled as terrorist organizations had been brought up:
"I would be willing to bet that the muslim terrorist organizations have killed FAR MORE people than the so-called Christian groups. You can't even call them Christians honestly. Especially considering that one of the commandments is "Thou shall not kill." What laws do the muslims live by, do anything for islam. C'mon...this is one you're probably not going to win on. ... The US should be "profiling" at the very least for our military!"

Uhhh...

I would here reiterate my previous statements.
And I would add that this woman's apparent racism is unbelievably irritating.


But additionally annoying, is the way this woman is completely incapable of effectively communicating what are reasonable Conservative views! She disagrees with the health care legislation on its way through the Legislature at the moment. Okay. Sure. Tell me what you think, my dear....

"Abortion is a HUGE issue in the bill. It is, you can sit there and deny it all you want but that's called denial! I hate it when people try to shove their beliefs down other peoples throats and that's what you're doing. I am entitled to my opinion and my beliefs and convictions WITHOUT being persecuted and belittled for them as does everyone else and you my friend are being quite disrespectful to me and everyone else who has the same view as me."

Ugh. I would, first of all, say that every medical practice is a huge issue in the bill...but regardless... She's accusing someone of denial, then she's playing the victim. This is not the way to argue. No, no, no.

A list of grievances regarding this woman's debate:

• Her grammar and syntax have been consistently confusing.

• She can't cite a source to save her life.

• She complains that she is being personally attacked (she is not, she is merely being accused of being under-informed), then personally attacks my friends.

• She complains that she is misunderstood, but she can't communicate effectively.

So I guess what I'm saying is this: Your unpopular views are worth stating! We need intelligent discourse to facilitate change in all sorts of academia. My friends are not opposed to changing their views. They, and myself, get upset even when views with which we agree are expressed stupidly, or by the under-informed.
Lastly, okay, I know not everyone is obsessed with language, with the Oxford Comma, with the proper place for prepositions.... but rules exist to facilitate communication. You'll never convince me if you can't communicate; you'll never communicate if you can't use our language.
I just... I'm just tired of this useless kind of discourse.

I'll leave you with this little gem from our femme fatale of political discourse:

"Ok, well your views are getting people killed. Let's protect our people for a change. Keep doin' and believing what "feels good". ...the whole country has turned into a bunch of liberal idiots!"

It's not clear (as so much of what she says) which "views" she's referring to. Maybe this? :
"The US should not be profiling anyone, so as not to tread on the Constitution. See the 4th and 14th amendments."

ANYWAY... smart-up, everyone, please. (And I'm following my own advice starting...now. Now.)



*All systems of belief are, in varying ways, agendas. They can't help but be - get over it.

Ne Me Quitte Pas

FDA You Made It So We Can't Have CLOVES

"SURGEON GENERAL'S WARNING:
Quitting Smoking Now Greatly Reduces Serious Risks To Your Health"

"Quitting smoking now"

"Now greatly reduces"

"Now...Serious"

"Now Greatly...Serious"

"Now...Reduces"

"Now...Risks"

"Now...To Your Health"

[what am i going to do with the black turtleneck i wore to rendezvous?]

nay may qwittay pah
nay may qwittay pah
may may mittay mah
pay pay pittay pah

(downt leev mee)

"ooo oo oo ooo"

naymayquittay

whatta pittay

Very afraid, however, of Randall Munroe's superlative characters.

I'm about to become this guy:

SHIT.

I actually did put whiskey in the lemonade.

Boston, then a pool of blood, made me hate my city. There's something in the air that feels rotten lately.
Martinis, then a chilly conversation, gave me a lot of hope. Hope for much, much more than all this. A three-dimensional existence. This existence is more, believe it or not, than quoting. I quote less and less these days; I write more and more these days. (That said, I will assert that everyone who cares about words should listen to the Mountain Goats. John Darnielle makes sweet, sweet love to language every time he opens his mouth. I don't care what anyone else says.)
I want to be quieter. I want to speak with a manner in which only my bottom lip moves toward, then away from, my front teeth. Also, when I'm seriously making a point, my nose would bend slightly towards my mouth. I would bite my lower lip when nervous. I wish I could speak like that, but I can barely use the language anymore. Despite shortcomings like that, I'm a sweet girl; I should really be nicer to me. I'm always blaming myself for things! It's true because I am always apologizing. "Sorry", it turns out, is my default word. I use it to mean all kinds of things. I say "sorry" when I mean "excuse me" or when I am embarrassed or angry. Mostly, however, when I say "sorry" I mean "I love you." See, in the event of regret, I regret deeply. I've never not regretted being in love. I am terrified at the potential of my own love. I am also terrified of dying. But I am dying. And I am terrified. I am, therefore, dying terrified. (Whether or not I would rather, I will not live forever.) I can't get comfortable or I might die and not notice.

This is a song. It might be called "Carbon Monoxide"...

I woke up to sunshine
And I thought about gas jets
I thought about carbon monoxide
I wondered that I'm not dead yet
I wondered that I'm not dead yet

I stirred 'cause you were beside me
And I thought about cars in garages
I thought about discovery
All kinds of ways to fall asleep
All kinds of ways to fall asleep
I put whiskey in the lemonade
Hoping that you'd stay
I played Death Cab For Cutie
So we could sing our pain away
But you don't like that song
You don't like that song, do you?
You don't like that song
You don't like that song anymore, do you?

I fell asleep at two-fifteen
After telling you to think about it
But we had bad, bad dreams
They were all about our old life
They were all about our old life

I woke up at six
And the streetcars sounded like horses
It's been a long time since
I've been out of this city
I can't remember real horses

I put on Death Cab For Cutie
Hoping we could sing away
There's whiskey in the lemonade
Have a drink; will you stay?
But you don't like the taste
You don't like the taste, do you?You don't like the taste
You don't like the taste anymore, do you?

There's whiskey in the lemonade
But you don't like the taste
No, you don't like the taste

Mr. Postman do you have a letter for me? (Maybe in a "bundle on the route yesterdays"?)

Today in Pray-Harrold, there was a used book sale. After getting our after-Audition coffee, before our outside-Quirk cigarette, Sid and I perused the literature. Lots of philosophy, some economics, lots of logic... and a BASIC programming book from 1978. Naturally, I bought it for $1.00. (Along with Marx Selections and Classic Essays in English.) To my surprise and delight, inside of the front cover of Basic BASIC: An Introduction To Computer Programming in BASIC Language's Second Edition by James S. Coan, there was a folded peice of notebook paper - now yellow with age. At first, I thought the paper was blank but upon closer inspection discovered faded handwriting in pencil, written and spaced very much like this:

"Karen

- Thanks for the book -

Sorry about missing the last bundle on the route yesterdays.

- I would like to start going out with you -
call me tonight if you have any time -

- Tim"

(The word "last" is written above the other words, as if Tim had put it in as an afterthought. And yes, it does say "yesterdays".)

Who's Karen? Who's Tim? What book is he referring to? Basic BASIC? Or is he giving her the BASIC book? Or is it some other book entirely? Did he ever even send Karen the note? Did they end up going out? What bundles? "The route yesterdays"?
I am incredibly intrigued.
There are, however, no more clues in the book. There is a similarly faded peice of blank scratch paper at the beginning of the chapter on Loops and Lists, but no annotations from Tim, Karen, or anyone else. Thus, it remains a mystery. I do hope everything turned out well for Tim and his Karen; Tim has inspired me with his bold note more than he will ever know - and assured me that there may be some hope for geeky love.

**Note: It was later suggested that Tim and Karen are actually employed doing some sort of delivery and Tim wants to start making deliveries with Karen. I still think that they are in love.

"Our house wrapped in disrepair, a small mouse peeked out from a hole beneth the stairs..."!

I am pretty sure there is a mouse in the wall of my apartment. I'm convinced by the squeaking and scuffling coming from the wall between the kitchen and the blue siding outside that this creature has taken up residence in my abode.

I came home from buying a pound of coffee at the Mug and sat down at my computer to read some news. After a moment I hear: Squeak! Squeak! Scuffle-scuffle-scuffle. Perplexed, I made my way into the small kitchen, apparently the location of said ruckus. Yes, I thought to myself, that is certainly squeaking... Could it be... ? No... Oh! It is! I yelped quietly as I realized that this was certainly a mouse, and it was certainly in my wall. Frantically, I grabbed my cell phone and called John. "I'm being stereotypical!" I told him, "But there's a mouse in my wall!" Calmly, he told me to call the landlord's office and leave a message. After our brief conversation, I did so, and explained that I am convinced that a mouse is squeaking around inside my wall.

Now, I know that a mouse is no great threat to me. He may be a threat to my food or to the cleanliness of my floor, but he can't really hurt me. (In fact, he's probably pretty freaking adorable...) I cannot help, however, imagining fantastical things about my new, uninvited, room-mate. I imagine Archibald (that is obviously his name) escaping the confines of the wall and entering my kitchen. He then eats all the food he can get his grimy little claws on. Nourishment causes Archibald to grow bigger than any mouse ever has before. He is so fat, and so cunning that he takes over my entire apartment, forcing me out of it onto the street.
The vision of a fat, greedy mouse sitting in my computer chair using my Facebook, listening to my Motion City Soundtrack CD's, and wearing my earrings is going to haunt me for days. Days.

In conclusion, I'm no big proponent of personally owned property, but, Mr. Archibald Mouse, I pay rent for this bedroom, kitchen, living room and bath room! Get the fuck out or I'll send your ass over to the folks at FU, Penguin.

The Academy will be a bunch of "crooks" if they don't give this film some serious awardage.

Friends! Neighbors! Americans!
Go, as soon as you can, and watch Frost/Nixon at your local movie theater.
Basically everything about this movie is phenomenal. Most importantly, I can't think of a more timely film about, well, I would have to say, weakness. The weakness of leaders, the weakness of journalists, and the weakness of a disenfranchised American people. But the screen shines from every facet. Acting? Superb. Period? Felt like I was there. Directing? Well, Rotten Tomatoes describes the film as "a cross between a boxing match and a ballet", and I couldn't agree more. From the opening interview with James Reston Jr. (Sam Rockwell) in which he discusses his outrage at Nixon's lack of apology to the American people, through the moment Richard Nixon (Frank Langella) infamously declares that "When the President does it, that means it is not illegal," I was riveted to this display of men at their lowest.
I can't say enough good things about this movie, so I'll stop here. Go see it.

The film's trailer.


From the actual interviews. Absolutely amazing. I cannot believe someone can actually think this way.

Scrapes, headache, fuzzy memories - welcome to 2009!

Happy 2009!

I am of the idea that making resolutions for the new year is incredibly silly, so these aren't resolutions, per se.....

Foods I want to consume and digest in 2009:

• Pie of any variety.
• Spinach.
• Bacon.
• (Are coffee and beer "foods," really?)
• Cheeseburgers. Many.
• Some fiber. It's important to stay regular.
• Anything made with a lot of honey.

Animals I want to touch with my hands in 2009:

• A horse or pony.
• Some sort of kitten-like creature. They are quite soft.
• Cute human boys.
• A bonobo, if at all possible.
  
• (Resisting the urge to say "Your mom"...)
• A couple of dogs, probably.
  

Words I want to use gratuitously in 2009:

• "Gratuitously."
• "Defenestrate(d)."
• "Your."
• "Mom."
• "Phone," as a verb instead of "call."
• "Brevity." (Um, I guess there will be a lot of Big Lebowski quoting?)
• "Sublime." But I won't be talking about the band.

Ways in which I plan to waste time in 2009:

• Trolling Reddit.
• Facebook stalking.
• Trying to figure out addresses of webcomic artists. (So I guess being generally creepy....)
• Meticulously arranging my hair.
• Writing blog posts.
• Writing C++ programs that don't do anything useful, but say sarcastic things.
• Sitting at the Ugly Mug.

Ridiculous assumptions I will probably make in 2009:

• Drinking beer will help me study. (I so wish though.)
  
• Money reproduces itself! (Not the case.)
  
• It is not creepy to Facebook stalk people. (It is WAY creepy.)
  
• My friends will never move away. (They will.)
  
• Gordon will do all the work at Puppets. (This might actually be true.)
• I can learn important things from the people on Reddit. (Just... No.)

Alright. 2009 will probably be mostly okay. Every year is, really.



So, I may not remember anything that happened after 1:00 last night, but at least I didn't kill a unicorn in my bathtub, like whoever lives here:

Or get champagne on my ceiling. Poor Pleasuredome kids...
(I did get quite a lot on my pants, however.)