That's what my fortune cookie said this evening at Grand House.
Soartstar's cookie, on the other hand, said,
"You are a bundle of energy, always on the go."
Monday, July 31, 2006
Sunday, July 30, 2006
More war needed
There's a story on Talking Points Memo today about the weekend's events in Lebanon.
Josh Marshall quotes a line from Sunday Jerusalem Post article:
and then links to a Haaretz.com article containing this quote:
As you have no doubt read, the current U.S. position is to oppose a cease fire in Lebanon, because... well, because why? A cease-fire would appear to benefit all sides. Israel is still being hit by Hezbollah rockets, Hezbollah is still being hit by Israeli airstrikes, and Lebanese civilians are still being caught in the crossfire.
And our official position on this is that we're not ready for it to stop.
Marshall, who as a DC current events/politics blogger knows way more about what's going on behind the curtain than me, has his own take on what's really happening, which has to do with what he sees as a 'double or nothing' mentality the administration has toward turning around the mess in the mideast.
But here's something else that caught my attention: the sudden chorus of punditry referring to this as World War III, which it is not now and probably won't become. But the drumbeat is there: World War III. This is World War III.
Here in the US, November elections are looming and GOP prospects look bleak. (Not in Oklahoma, of course - we're still deprogramming ourselves from the notion pounded into us by two generations of Gaylords that grouchy rich white authoritarians rule by divine right.) Two years ago, Republicans 'energized the base' and held onto the White House.
So, my deepest paranoid fear now is that the administration is deliberately trying to spread the war to neighboring states and escalate the bloodshed and death to stir up the premillenialist wingnuts who think all-out war in the mideast will bring the rapture.
Josh Marshall quotes a line from Sunday Jerusalem Post article:
[Israeli]Defense officials told the Post last week that they were receiving indications from the United States that the US would be interested in seeing Israel attack Syria.
and then links to a Haaretz.com article containing this quote:
...this is the true surprise - a surprise of statesmen and not of intelligence - of the campaign in the north: no American red light, no flashing orange light, and not even a mere green light, but the blaring siren of the sheriff's car sitting behind the hesitant driver at the intersection urging him to get moving.
As you have no doubt read, the current U.S. position is to oppose a cease fire in Lebanon, because... well, because why? A cease-fire would appear to benefit all sides. Israel is still being hit by Hezbollah rockets, Hezbollah is still being hit by Israeli airstrikes, and Lebanese civilians are still being caught in the crossfire.
And our official position on this is that we're not ready for it to stop.
Marshall, who as a DC current events/politics blogger knows way more about what's going on behind the curtain than me, has his own take on what's really happening, which has to do with what he sees as a 'double or nothing' mentality the administration has toward turning around the mess in the mideast.
But here's something else that caught my attention: the sudden chorus of punditry referring to this as World War III, which it is not now and probably won't become. But the drumbeat is there: World War III. This is World War III.
Here in the US, November elections are looming and GOP prospects look bleak. (Not in Oklahoma, of course - we're still deprogramming ourselves from the notion pounded into us by two generations of Gaylords that grouchy rich white authoritarians rule by divine right.) Two years ago, Republicans 'energized the base' and held onto the White House.
So, my deepest paranoid fear now is that the administration is deliberately trying to spread the war to neighboring states and escalate the bloodshed and death to stir up the premillenialist wingnuts who think all-out war in the mideast will bring the rapture.
Saturday, July 29, 2006
Saturday
I was a real homebody today. Did the RC for breakfast, came home and worked on a freelance project. Went to Target... I don't remember what I went in there for, but I came out with some T-shirts.
Oh... I went in for a fake plant, which I found. I have a mix of live and artificial plants inside. The artificial plants are in places wjere there's not enough light or where it would be hard to reach for regular watering.
That's interesting, isn't it?
Oh... I went in for a fake plant, which I found. I have a mix of live and artificial plants inside. The artificial plants are in places wjere there's not enough light or where it would be hard to reach for regular watering.
That's interesting, isn't it?
Friday, July 28, 2006
We're back
I don't know why the front page was blank much of the day. Obviously some people found it and were able to post comments.
Random notes
I read on John's blog last evening (it is now early in the a.m.) about an electric sports car that does 0 to 60 in about 4 seconds.
A few moments later, I checked an email from a friend about a Hawaiian therapy technique called Ho'oponopono. The email had been forwarded many times, and had some of the earmarks of an urban myth. Generally, when I get an email of that sort, I Google the subject matter to see if there's any more info on it.
In this case, though, the original text is genuine, and I found it here.
So, I clicked on that blog's home page, and found this link.
Synchronicity.
I have been more-or-less off my small social circle all month. I have spent more time in the confines of my own home, drawing, reading, doing laundry and other chores, getting reacquainted with the creatures with whom I share my home.
(Something we take for granted, and yet it continues to amaze me -- that a dog or a cat would rather spend more time hanging out in the company of a different species than with other dogs or cats. Cats vary on this, of course, but my grouchiest, touchiest cat is also the one that sticks closest to me.)
Before I started frequenting the Red Cup a year or so ago, I spent about 29 out of 30 evenings alone, either at home or maybe at a movie. Then I swung to the point where I was out 5 out of 7 nights a week (although still leading a fairly docile life; sitting on a patio drinking iced tea is still a little more low-key than a weekly parasailing group or tae kwan do lessons).
The change has been remarkable, but also somewhat destabilizing. There is nothing inherently wrong with either lifestyle, but shifting from one to the other is bound to create some stress, and I think I overdid it a little. So now I'm taking a little of what my therapist used to call 'turtle time' to let the slower-adapting parts of me catch up with the rest.
These new monitors are wonderful. When I was installing them, I briefly had one new one and one old one on, and I could see first hand how dim and fuzzy the old one was. Fifteen years ago, the NEC Multi-sync was the gold standard of CRTs, and priced accordingly. But now they're pretty run of the mill, in my experience, even for CRTs.
If you're still a CRT user, I'm a huge fan of Viewsonics. Built to last. Of the half-dozen CRTs I've been through over the past several years, the only two still functioning at all are two Viewsonics. One is about eight years old now, and it's a pretty low-res monitor, but it still works.
iTunes: Sagartha, Ishikawa Toshimitsu
A few moments later, I checked an email from a friend about a Hawaiian therapy technique called Ho'oponopono. The email had been forwarded many times, and had some of the earmarks of an urban myth. Generally, when I get an email of that sort, I Google the subject matter to see if there's any more info on it.
In this case, though, the original text is genuine, and I found it here.
So, I clicked on that blog's home page, and found this link.
Synchronicity.
I have been more-or-less off my small social circle all month. I have spent more time in the confines of my own home, drawing, reading, doing laundry and other chores, getting reacquainted with the creatures with whom I share my home.
(Something we take for granted, and yet it continues to amaze me -- that a dog or a cat would rather spend more time hanging out in the company of a different species than with other dogs or cats. Cats vary on this, of course, but my grouchiest, touchiest cat is also the one that sticks closest to me.)
Before I started frequenting the Red Cup a year or so ago, I spent about 29 out of 30 evenings alone, either at home or maybe at a movie. Then I swung to the point where I was out 5 out of 7 nights a week (although still leading a fairly docile life; sitting on a patio drinking iced tea is still a little more low-key than a weekly parasailing group or tae kwan do lessons).
The change has been remarkable, but also somewhat destabilizing. There is nothing inherently wrong with either lifestyle, but shifting from one to the other is bound to create some stress, and I think I overdid it a little. So now I'm taking a little of what my therapist used to call 'turtle time' to let the slower-adapting parts of me catch up with the rest.
These new monitors are wonderful. When I was installing them, I briefly had one new one and one old one on, and I could see first hand how dim and fuzzy the old one was. Fifteen years ago, the NEC Multi-sync was the gold standard of CRTs, and priced accordingly. But now they're pretty run of the mill, in my experience, even for CRTs.
If you're still a CRT user, I'm a huge fan of Viewsonics. Built to last. Of the half-dozen CRTs I've been through over the past several years, the only two still functioning at all are two Viewsonics. One is about eight years old now, and it's a pretty low-res monitor, but it still works.
iTunes: Sagartha, Ishikawa Toshimitsu
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Words fail me
They also failed World News Now anchor Gigi Stone... but in a somewhat different way, whilst making what the consultants used to call 'pithy chat' following a report about true life cannibalism.
Great picture...
of Kat in the Oklahoma Gazette this week.
Look carefully, and you'll see a lot of other stuff in it.
Her face, for example. (Fer gawd's sake, Kat, put something on! You'll catch your death of a cold like that.)
And a laptop. Not her laptop, but somebody's Dell. And Blake. They're staring at the laptop blankly. Maybe it's locked up or something.
There's some Lurch-like guy in the background with a lanyard around his neck trying to eat a bagel straight out of the basket. Probably trying to get all those other people at the table to feel sorry for him.
Look carefully, and you'll see a lot of other stuff in it.
Her face, for example. (Fer gawd's sake, Kat, put something on! You'll catch your death of a cold like that.)
And a laptop. Not her laptop, but somebody's Dell. And Blake. They're staring at the laptop blankly. Maybe it's locked up or something.
There's some Lurch-like guy in the background with a lanyard around his neck trying to eat a bagel straight out of the basket. Probably trying to get all those other people at the table to feel sorry for him.
Speaking of self-abuse:
one of my coworkers has a brand new laptop, whose operating system shall remain unnamed. But here's a clue: it's locked up three or four times in the first 48 hours.
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
iTunes
I've been forgetting to post my iTunes songs, although by now I think I've gone through almost the whole list. I should just convert the playlist to a text file and post that.
iTunes: Padhasapa, Ravi Shankar
I should also mention that I am only posting performers, not composers.
iTunes: Padhasapa, Ravi Shankar
I should also mention that I am only posting performers, not composers.
Oh, man
I can take a lot of criticism, scorn and abuse, but I hope to gopod none of you has actually bought Microsoft stuff just to piss me off.
I'm not worth it. Your worst enemy is not worth it.
You know, I'm the guy who went with the Gary to the Apple Store to help him choose a laptop.
Because empathy without action is worthless.
By the way: maybe you've heard that Microsoft is coming out with a new iPod competitor to be called "Zune."
When will the OS be ready?
Zune.
When will it ship?
Zune.
It will eventually be renamed "Nazozune."
Have you ever seen this?
Does anyone know what that music is?
I'm not worth it. Your worst enemy is not worth it.
You know, I'm the guy who went with the Gary to the Apple Store to help him choose a laptop.
Because empathy without action is worthless.
By the way: maybe you've heard that Microsoft is coming out with a new iPod competitor to be called "Zune."
When will the OS be ready?
Zune.
When will it ship?
Zune.
It will eventually be renamed "Nazozune."
Have you ever seen this?
Does anyone know what that music is?
And now on to to more other things
Everyone has seen, I assume, the nude pregnant Britney Spears on the cover of Harper's Bazaar this month.
And if you're like me, you suspect from a first glance that it has been heavily heavily Photoshopped.
But pick it up off the rack, look at it closely, and tell me where. I still think it was Photoshopped, but it's the work of a master. Look at it closely, and you'll see lots of skin texture: freckles, moles, etc. I assume the photo was taken with a large-format camera. But try to find a place where any of it looks wrong -- too smooth, too perfect.
Viewed from a distance, she looks unnaturally good, but looking for the telltale clone-stamping and healing brush up close, I can find nothing.
Compare this to some of her pics in other magazines (cough, cough, People, hrrack, cough), where her teeth and the whites of her eyes have been whitened until she looks like a space alien, and the freckles and scars have been obliterated so her skin looks like the soft plastic of a bathtub toy.
(Ooooh... a soft plastic Britney Spears bathtub toy! Well, since I don't care anything about... that doesn't... well, nothing. Really. Couldn't care, wouldn't care. Not me. Ommmmmm.)
Unknown Photoshop person, I salute you.
Update: I looked at this on a website a few moments ago, and now I think the jawline is a little suspect. But still... I could never even approach what the Pshop person did with this pic.
And if you're like me, you suspect from a first glance that it has been heavily heavily Photoshopped.
But pick it up off the rack, look at it closely, and tell me where. I still think it was Photoshopped, but it's the work of a master. Look at it closely, and you'll see lots of skin texture: freckles, moles, etc. I assume the photo was taken with a large-format camera. But try to find a place where any of it looks wrong -- too smooth, too perfect.
Viewed from a distance, she looks unnaturally good, but looking for the telltale clone-stamping and healing brush up close, I can find nothing.
Compare this to some of her pics in other magazines (cough, cough, People, hrrack, cough), where her teeth and the whites of her eyes have been whitened until she looks like a space alien, and the freckles and scars have been obliterated so her skin looks like the soft plastic of a bathtub toy.
(Ooooh... a soft plastic Britney Spears bathtub toy! Well, since I don't care anything about... that doesn't... well, nothing. Really. Couldn't care, wouldn't care. Not me. Ommmmmm.)
Unknown Photoshop person, I salute you.
Update: I looked at this on a website a few moments ago, and now I think the jawline is a little suspect. But still... I could never even approach what the Pshop person did with this pic.
Monday, July 24, 2006
And now on to other things
Karen's Journey to Simplicity post on homemade cleaning compounds caught my attention, especially the one for dishwashers. I always thought there was some special secret ingredient in dishwasher products that you had to have to put it in a dishwasher.
iTunes: Asturias, John Williams
iTunes: Asturias, John Williams
Metatopic
Years ago, during the final months of my television career, I asked a respected and trusted friend why I was having so much trouble getting along with my boss and a certain group of my coworkers.
I didn't get to say another word in that conversation for about forty minutes as she started describing what she thought were some of my problems and issues, then began releasing a dozen years of her own built-up resentment over things I'd said or done during the time she'd known me, and wrapped up by yelling at me so loudly her voice carried through her door out into the newsroom. She worked herself into a wide-eyed fury describing all the things I had done that annoyed, peeved, offended or angered her.
One of the things she mentioned was that I was sarcastic, demeaning and dismissive of other people.
The truth is I have said some bad things about other people. I have worked harder on that aspect of myself than almost anything else, and I wish I were closer to success than I am. Snarkiness is habitual with me.
If I am the target of harsh criticism, maybe it's just karma coming back around quickly.
I want everyone to feel free to speak their minds here, anonymously or otherwise.
"Write what you know," the maxim says. I know me.
Yes, there are other people worse off than me. I can walk two blocks in any direction from my home and see some. I've mentioned a few of them here. But I can't write about their experience or their feelings because I'm not them. I can empathize with them but I can't be them.
I can write first-hand only about what I know first-hand. I could write more about art and design, but I don't think it would generate much interest. I could write more about computers and software, but there are a thousand blogs on those subjects, many written by people far more knowledgeable than me. Even when I write about Buddhism and Taoism, I'm writing from the perspective of a neophyte who can't even keep all the denominations straight in his mind.
This is the only blog about me. It's a fairly narrow field of interest, but it's the one I know best.
So I'm going to keep writing about me.
We appreciate your support.
I didn't get to say another word in that conversation for about forty minutes as she started describing what she thought were some of my problems and issues, then began releasing a dozen years of her own built-up resentment over things I'd said or done during the time she'd known me, and wrapped up by yelling at me so loudly her voice carried through her door out into the newsroom. She worked herself into a wide-eyed fury describing all the things I had done that annoyed, peeved, offended or angered her.
One of the things she mentioned was that I was sarcastic, demeaning and dismissive of other people.
The truth is I have said some bad things about other people. I have worked harder on that aspect of myself than almost anything else, and I wish I were closer to success than I am. Snarkiness is habitual with me.
If I am the target of harsh criticism, maybe it's just karma coming back around quickly.
I want everyone to feel free to speak their minds here, anonymously or otherwise.
"Write what you know," the maxim says. I know me.
Yes, there are other people worse off than me. I can walk two blocks in any direction from my home and see some. I've mentioned a few of them here. But I can't write about their experience or their feelings because I'm not them. I can empathize with them but I can't be them.
I can write first-hand only about what I know first-hand. I could write more about art and design, but I don't think it would generate much interest. I could write more about computers and software, but there are a thousand blogs on those subjects, many written by people far more knowledgeable than me. Even when I write about Buddhism and Taoism, I'm writing from the perspective of a neophyte who can't even keep all the denominations straight in his mind.
This is the only blog about me. It's a fairly narrow field of interest, but it's the one I know best.
So I'm going to keep writing about me.
We appreciate your support.
What was that?
I rarely get heartburn. The last time was three years ago, and the time before that was probably fifteen years ago.
But something hit me all of a sudden at a restaurant this evening, and it was so painful I got up and left without dinner, and almost didn't make it to the car. It was a sharp pain, right at the end of my sternum.
Of course, this being me, I went through a whole panic attack over it. I broke out in a cold sweat. Was I having a heart attack? Or was the cold sweat because I had worked myself into a panic over the possibility it was a heart attack?
It didn't spread. My arms didn't tingle or go numb.
It's passed now, so I guess I'm okay.
Heartburn or Heart Attack?
But something hit me all of a sudden at a restaurant this evening, and it was so painful I got up and left without dinner, and almost didn't make it to the car. It was a sharp pain, right at the end of my sternum.
Of course, this being me, I went through a whole panic attack over it. I broke out in a cold sweat. Was I having a heart attack? Or was the cold sweat because I had worked myself into a panic over the possibility it was a heart attack?
It didn't spread. My arms didn't tingle or go numb.
It's passed now, so I guess I'm okay.
Heartburn or Heart Attack?
"F" ... It's an "F"
The letter carrier did not print on the Certified Mail notice as legibly as he might have.
The "I" in "FBI" was actually another "F".
ie., FBF. As in:
Forrest "Butch" Freeman
Jeebus. Scare the crap out of me next time.
The "I" in "FBI" was actually another "F".
ie., FBF. As in:
Forrest "Butch" Freeman
Jeebus. Scare the crap out of me next time.
By the way
When weighing my advice and thoughts on sex, love, relationships, etc., please remember:
I'm full of it.
Me posting relationship advice on the Internet is like anyone else leaving an old refrigerator on the curb with the door still on the hinges.
iTunes: Shika No Tone, Ishikawa Toshimitsu
I'm full of it.
Me posting relationship advice on the Internet is like anyone else leaving an old refrigerator on the curb with the door still on the hinges.
iTunes: Shika No Tone, Ishikawa Toshimitsu
Sunday, July 23, 2006
Work
I spent some time this weekend working on a small pro bono project that closely resembles the same thing I do at work most days.
I have said this before: the job I have today is the best job I have ever had. But as I have also said before, there are evenings on which, thinking about the next day's tasks, I am filled with a sort of low-grade dread.
Why then, would I volunteer to take on the same kind of work in my free time that seems to touch me with discomfort the rest of the time?
I think part of it was knowing that this project had a beginning and an end, and when I was through with it, I was truly through with it. At work, I can finish an individual project, but there always other in the pipeline right behind it, and the total process can start to resemble an assembly line.
iTunes: Dulcet Rhythm, Riley Lee
I have said this before: the job I have today is the best job I have ever had. But as I have also said before, there are evenings on which, thinking about the next day's tasks, I am filled with a sort of low-grade dread.
Why then, would I volunteer to take on the same kind of work in my free time that seems to touch me with discomfort the rest of the time?
I think part of it was knowing that this project had a beginning and an end, and when I was through with it, I was truly through with it. At work, I can finish an individual project, but there always other in the pipeline right behind it, and the total process can start to resemble an assembly line.
iTunes: Dulcet Rhythm, Riley Lee
Cloud Hidden, Whereabouts Unknown
Spending some more time with this book this evening. Thanks again to JH who loaned it to me.
Why don't I?
My Buddhist friend occasionally invites me to half-day and daylong retreats with her group. But I never go. Why is that?
I'll have plenty of time to meditate, though, when I'm in prison for whatever the FBI wants me for.
I'll have plenty of time to meditate, though, when I'm in prison for whatever the FBI wants me for.
You've got mail!
I had a note in my mailbox this morning - my snail mailbox - telling me I had a certified letter waiting at the PO. The sender was identified as "FBI Treasury."
God knows.
God knows.
Well, either one, really...
but as a matter of fact, I was talking about getting laid, which, experience has told me, is no cure for depression or anything else, except maybe fiscal responsibility.
I remember lying awake in bed, staring into the darkness, with my then-significant other beside me. She was asleep, or maybe pretending to sleep like I was.
It had been a not-so-great evening, culminating in not-so-great sex, and I was backtracking in my mind to figure out where it had gone awry. I finally decided the turning point was the moment she opened her front door to me. Everything had been fine when I was standing alone on the porch.
It doesn't matter when this was, or who the significant other was. It happened more than once. In fact, it was the norm.
I realize this is different for other people, but for me, sex is usually two long strung-out trains of emotional baggage, intellectual baggage, social baggage, financial baggage and consumerist baggage joined at the genitals. There's nothing fun or even pleasant about it.
And one day, I had to look at myself and say, "Y'know, you're not actually having any fun. You're mostly having sex out of a sense of obligation. Not even obligation to your SO. It's the obligation to peer pressure and marketing expectations."
And I hear too many other people complain about sex and tell dark sardonic jokes about it to think it's really as popular as the media lead us to believe.
Master Gotama, as you know, was a prince before he became an ascetic and later the Buddha. He was very wealthy, lived in a palace and could have any woman he wanted. He married and had children. And he walked away from it. You'll hear some Buddhists talk about 'tantric sex' and 'elite teachings for the initiates,' but here's the deal: the man himself had it, could get all he wanted -- and he walked away from it.
I remember lying awake in bed, staring into the darkness, with my then-significant other beside me. She was asleep, or maybe pretending to sleep like I was.
It had been a not-so-great evening, culminating in not-so-great sex, and I was backtracking in my mind to figure out where it had gone awry. I finally decided the turning point was the moment she opened her front door to me. Everything had been fine when I was standing alone on the porch.
It doesn't matter when this was, or who the significant other was. It happened more than once. In fact, it was the norm.
I realize this is different for other people, but for me, sex is usually two long strung-out trains of emotional baggage, intellectual baggage, social baggage, financial baggage and consumerist baggage joined at the genitals. There's nothing fun or even pleasant about it.
And one day, I had to look at myself and say, "Y'know, you're not actually having any fun. You're mostly having sex out of a sense of obligation. Not even obligation to your SO. It's the obligation to peer pressure and marketing expectations."
And I hear too many other people complain about sex and tell dark sardonic jokes about it to think it's really as popular as the media lead us to believe.
Master Gotama, as you know, was a prince before he became an ascetic and later the Buddha. He was very wealthy, lived in a palace and could have any woman he wanted. He married and had children. And he walked away from it. You'll hear some Buddhists talk about 'tantric sex' and 'elite teachings for the initiates,' but here's the deal: the man himself had it, could get all he wanted -- and he walked away from it.
Saturday, July 22, 2006
Friday, July 21, 2006
Identifying with depression
dzaster questions a few posts down why my posts about depression evoke more responses than my posts about other subjects.
I'm going to assay an answer to that, which may or may not be correct.
First of all, I seem to have a lot of people in my life these days who truly care about my well-being, both within the Neurosis Triangle (the geographic area whose three legs are terminated at the north and south ends of the Paseo, and the Red Cup) and within my online community headquartered out west. And that is something for which I am truly grateful.
Secondly... good god, aren't we all depressed? How could you not be depressed?
Our country's day-to-day affairs are being managed by someone who, when he is enrolled in the Ranks of the Great Statesmen, will fall somewhere between seventies-era county commissioners and those sheriff's deputies who are always being quoted about cattle mutilations.
("Wudn't no animal done that. That wuz done with surgical precision.")
In addition to that, it's hotter than hell out, at least here in the midwest.
Television sucks. When they promised us 500 channels, we figured they'd be able to jam pack pure shit onto only about 495 of them, so there might be five channels worth watching. Well, tastes vary, but I think we underestimated them.
We have more fighting in the mideast, and thousands if not millions of Americans who want to fan the flames of violence so it will more closely resemble the 'Left Behind' books.
Relationships are now controlled mostly by Madison Avenue, and are intended to be consumer exercises only. Abs! Abs! Abs! You'll die old and alone without them!
Cars suck. Fox News sucks. Windows XP sucks. Johnny Cash is dead. Some of us have leg cramps. Some of us have menstrual cramps.
Hell, yes we're depressed! Damn straight!
If I were enlightened, I suppose this stuff wouldn't get to me.
The Buddha is not in Nepal.
I'm going to assay an answer to that, which may or may not be correct.
First of all, I seem to have a lot of people in my life these days who truly care about my well-being, both within the Neurosis Triangle (the geographic area whose three legs are terminated at the north and south ends of the Paseo, and the Red Cup) and within my online community headquartered out west. And that is something for which I am truly grateful.
Secondly... good god, aren't we all depressed? How could you not be depressed?
Our country's day-to-day affairs are being managed by someone who, when he is enrolled in the Ranks of the Great Statesmen, will fall somewhere between seventies-era county commissioners and those sheriff's deputies who are always being quoted about cattle mutilations.
("Wudn't no animal done that. That wuz done with surgical precision.")
In addition to that, it's hotter than hell out, at least here in the midwest.
Television sucks. When they promised us 500 channels, we figured they'd be able to jam pack pure shit onto only about 495 of them, so there might be five channels worth watching. Well, tastes vary, but I think we underestimated them.
We have more fighting in the mideast, and thousands if not millions of Americans who want to fan the flames of violence so it will more closely resemble the 'Left Behind' books.
Relationships are now controlled mostly by Madison Avenue, and are intended to be consumer exercises only. Abs! Abs! Abs! You'll die old and alone without them!
Cars suck. Fox News sucks. Windows XP sucks. Johnny Cash is dead. Some of us have leg cramps. Some of us have menstrual cramps.
Hell, yes we're depressed! Damn straight!
If I were enlightened, I suppose this stuff wouldn't get to me.
The Buddha is not in Nepal.
New toys
They don't make CRTs like they used to. I use a dual display on my Mac here at home, and I've been through four of them in five years. And one of the two I'm using now is flaking out on me.
At work, I use two 17-inch Apple Studio Displays. They don't make those anymore. But mine, now five years old, still look like they did when new.
It's possible to do serious graphics on a single-monitor display –– I know professional graphics artists working entirely on laptops –– but a second monitor gives a user plenty of room for all the little 'child windows' programs like Photoshop, Painter and Dreamweaver use to manage tools.
I guess it was inevitable that I switch to LCD's at home. Today I ordered two 20" Apple Cinema Displays from PROMac Computers on Northwest Expressway. (Locally owned and, as their website points out, you don't have to hike across a shopping mall parking lot to get to the door.)
These are the entry level Apple monitors, and yet they will give almost three times as much desktop space as the 19" CRT's I'm using now.
Which should make it a lot easier for me to produce serious art.
At work, I use two 17-inch Apple Studio Displays. They don't make those anymore. But mine, now five years old, still look like they did when new.
It's possible to do serious graphics on a single-monitor display –– I know professional graphics artists working entirely on laptops –– but a second monitor gives a user plenty of room for all the little 'child windows' programs like Photoshop, Painter and Dreamweaver use to manage tools.
I guess it was inevitable that I switch to LCD's at home. Today I ordered two 20" Apple Cinema Displays from PROMac Computers on Northwest Expressway. (Locally owned and, as their website points out, you don't have to hike across a shopping mall parking lot to get to the door.)
These are the entry level Apple monitors, and yet they will give almost three times as much desktop space as the 19" CRT's I'm using now.
Which should make it a lot easier for me to produce serious art.
Thursday, July 20, 2006
People are crazy
I'm at the RC. It's one hundred-freakin-five degrees outside and people are sitting on the patio.
By the way
I would be remiss if I didn't mention the extraordinary job Kat the Miracle Worker did with my pathetic nasty kitchen Tuesday. Stuff that had been in the refrigerator for, I guess, years, is gone. It's empty. I need to get food.
Thank you, Kat.
Thank you, Kat.
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Bananas
I woke up 15 minutes ago with cramps in both lower legs. They've just now relaxed to the point that I can limp to the computer and blog about it. (So of course, that's what I did.) My big toe on my left foot was curled impossibly upward, and the muscle was pulling up all the way up to my upper calf. The smaller toes on my right foot were trying to curl downward, but it hurt like hell if I let them. I had to remain standing to keep pressure on them from underneath. Sometimes these cramps are so bad that even after the spasm is gone, the muscle is sprained and hurts for a day or two afterward.
Too hot
I really really was going to go to the Paseo tonight. But it's so damn hot.
Got my teeth cleaned today, and all that gum probing they do gave me a headache which lingered all day and is still with me now.
Got a warrant in the mail for unpaid tickets (which I thought I had paid) and I can't make any sense of it. I guess I owe them $218. If I'm in County, of course, the MDA people can't extradite me.
Got my teeth cleaned today, and all that gum probing they do gave me a headache which lingered all day and is still with me now.
Got a warrant in the mail for unpaid tickets (which I thought I had paid) and I can't make any sense of it. I guess I owe them $218. If I'm in County, of course, the MDA people can't extradite me.
A bit too cheery and bright for me
I'm getting quite a bit of feedback lately that I'm depressed, so there may be something to it.
Actually...
I guess those three new blog links are on the right.
Left, right, right, left.
All one thing.
Left, right, right, left.
All one thing.
Three new blog links
I've added three new blog links on the left: Journey to Simplicity, Quoting Buddha and My Zen Life.
from Journey to Simplicity:
from My Zen Life:
and Quoting Buddha is a collection of quotes from Tibetan Buddhist teachers, with HH the Dalai Lama being the most-quoted.
design note: I also want to mention the very nice and appropriate design of My Zen Life. The saffron-and-wine color scheme of Quoting Buddha is reminiscent of Tibetan monastic clothing, which I assume is the sense it's supposed to evoke, but it's a bit too cheery and bright for me. The neutrals of My Zen Life are more to my taste.
from Journey to Simplicity:
While Spring Cleaning, I realized that the “some day” we knew would come when we could buy wants had already arrived leaving its mark under beds, in closets, cabinets, the garage, and attic. The clutter in our lives doesn’t stop there either. Our free time is consumed with too many activities and too much money is being spent on technology. Our lives are no longer simple, but have become complicated. Getting to this point was so gradual, we didn’t notice.
Reminiscing about our humble beginning brought back memories of contentment and simple pleasures. Although we have a wonderful life, we miss living a simple existence with complete contentment in each moment.
from My Zen Life:
one of the biggest reasons i have a stillness practice is because of what I do for a living. all day i fill my head with problems that need to be solved and all the puzzle like solutions to them. i frequently come home so wiped out from all the mental gyrations of the day that i find it hard sometimes to just go check email after dinner.
but if i go sit zazen instead i feel refreshed almost immediately after first sitting down. yeah, the knees begin to hurt as does the lower back most of the time as well, but the mind just feels this immense sense of release. all it has to do is just follow the breath and i think it finds its rest in that.
and Quoting Buddha is a collection of quotes from Tibetan Buddhist teachers, with HH the Dalai Lama being the most-quoted.
design note: I also want to mention the very nice and appropriate design of My Zen Life. The saffron-and-wine color scheme of Quoting Buddha is reminiscent of Tibetan monastic clothing, which I assume is the sense it's supposed to evoke, but it's a bit too cheery and bright for me. The neutrals of My Zen Life are more to my taste.
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
Y'know
Y' jis git Gail King t'git Oprah to stop doin' this shit, an' it'd be over.
Got any more o' them rolls?
Got any more o' them rolls?
Oprah: not gay
Oprah's not gay,
That's the big news here for you today!
She and Gail King
Just have this thing
It's nothing like all the tabloids say!
Oprah's not gay,
It's a rumor 'cause they seem joined at the hip!
They like to bond
'Cause they're very fond
Of each other but they never lock lips!
They talk on the phone four times a day
But they're not making out in any way!
And when we say, "O!"
"Yippee - i - oh - ay"
We're only saying, you're heterosexual, Oprah Winfrey,
Oprah Winfrey: not gay!
Or fey! Just straight! Okay?
Oprah Winnnnnfreyyyy: not gay!
That's the big news here for you today!
She and Gail King
Just have this thing
It's nothing like all the tabloids say!
Oprah's not gay,
It's a rumor 'cause they seem joined at the hip!
They like to bond
'Cause they're very fond
Of each other but they never lock lips!
They talk on the phone four times a day
But they're not making out in any way!
And when we say, "O!"
"Yippee - i - oh - ay"
We're only saying, you're heterosexual, Oprah Winfrey,
Oprah Winfrey: not gay!
Or fey! Just straight! Okay?
Oprah Winnnnnfreyyyy: not gay!
Monday, July 17, 2006
North Korea
Git China to git North Korea to stop doin' that shit.
See? Bein' prednet is easy as fallin' off a log.
See? Bein' prednet is easy as fallin' off a log.
Wow! Bush said 'shit!'
By now you've seen or heard or read about President Bush's 'Was that mic on?' comment to Tony Blair: "What they need to do is git Syria to git Hizbollah to stop doing this shit, and it’s over."
If you haven't seen the coverage, check
Crooks and Liars for some of the reports.
I personally am not offended by Bush's use of the word 'shit,' nor do I think it is particularly hypocritical for him as a born-again Christian to have said it.
But from the media coverage, you'd think Bush revealed to Blair the secret of faster than light space travel, or the formula for curing AIDS.
No, what he said was, "What they need to do is git Syria to git Hizbollah to stop doing this shit, and it’s over."
NBC's Kelly O'Donnell described that as "extraordinarily candid comments."
"A rather frank and dramatic exchange," said CNN's Ed Henry.
Good lord.
No one in the media seems to notice (or maybe they notice but they don't care) that this isn't candid, frank or dramatic. It's the kind of simplistic blowhard chitchat my relatives exchange during 'NFL Today' commercials. You know... just git 'em to do it. Git someone to git 'em to do it.
Is that the best Bush can do?
If you haven't seen the coverage, check
Crooks and Liars for some of the reports.
I personally am not offended by Bush's use of the word 'shit,' nor do I think it is particularly hypocritical for him as a born-again Christian to have said it.
But from the media coverage, you'd think Bush revealed to Blair the secret of faster than light space travel, or the formula for curing AIDS.
No, what he said was, "What they need to do is git Syria to git Hizbollah to stop doing this shit, and it’s over."
NBC's Kelly O'Donnell described that as "extraordinarily candid comments."
"A rather frank and dramatic exchange," said CNN's Ed Henry.
Good lord.
No one in the media seems to notice (or maybe they notice but they don't care) that this isn't candid, frank or dramatic. It's the kind of simplistic blowhard chitchat my relatives exchange during 'NFL Today' commercials. You know... just git 'em to do it. Git someone to git 'em to do it.
Is that the best Bush can do?
A dream
I dreamt I was looking at a magazine. There was a picture of a car at the top of the page, and below it, the headline, "Marines await trial; woman waits for used car"
Then there was the story, but I didn't read it. There was a red horizontal bar on the page, too.
iTunes: Cordoba, John Williams
Then there was the story, but I didn't read it. There was a red horizontal bar on the page, too.
iTunes: Cordoba, John Williams
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Random stuff
A Chinese pistache tree has popped up in a very fortuitous place in my backyard. The only problem with these trees is that they are too damn hardy. I uproot fifty seedlings every year because they sprout everywhere. But this one has come up in a place where, if I allow it to grow, it will cast shade over the last sunny spot in my backyard. No more grass to mow! The previous owners planted some kind of ground cover under the elm tree which has gradually spread out over most of the yard as the elm grows and the crape myrtles get taller.
I have a cat who is pregnant. She's a fulltime indoor cat, and I assume one of the neighborhood males got in the house one day while the back door was open and whispered sweet nothings in her ear. Her names is Midge, short for Midget. She is not my smallest cat –– that would be Prajna –– but she is the second smallest, and even though she is a year and half old, she has the physical proportions of an older kitten rather than an adult cat.
It's too damn hot.
I'm still feeling a little depressed, and not ready to fully rejoin society. Soon, though, I think. Still a little stressed about changes at work, and the heat doesn't help.
I have a cat who is pregnant. She's a fulltime indoor cat, and I assume one of the neighborhood males got in the house one day while the back door was open and whispered sweet nothings in her ear. Her names is Midge, short for Midget. She is not my smallest cat –– that would be Prajna –– but she is the second smallest, and even though she is a year and half old, she has the physical proportions of an older kitten rather than an adult cat.
It's too damn hot.
I'm still feeling a little depressed, and not ready to fully rejoin society. Soon, though, I think. Still a little stressed about changes at work, and the heat doesn't help.
Well, as for me...
My first thought upon pondering this was, 'of course I'd do it.'
But I don't even want to go to MDA jail for a couple of hours.
But I don't even want to go to MDA jail for a couple of hours.
Saturday, July 15, 2006
Messianic figure casting call
Someone comes to you with a proposal. Maybe he's an angel of the Lord, maybe one of the Men in Black, but whoever he is, you have no reason to believe he is not able to carry out the proposal he makes, which is this:
You will receive the ability to bring world peace, equality for all men and women, enlightenment for all sentient beings, freedom from hunger and fear and violence.
In exchange for this ability, however, you will be required to die a violent, premature death.
The offer is yours to accept or reject.
What would you do?
You will receive the ability to bring world peace, equality for all men and women, enlightenment for all sentient beings, freedom from hunger and fear and violence.
In exchange for this ability, however, you will be required to die a violent, premature death.
The offer is yours to accept or reject.
What would you do?
A dream
I've never had a dream related to my recently-acquired Buddhist/Taoist beliefs until now.
In this dream, I was with a group of people. As I've mentioned before, there are frequently people in my dreams who give me some vague sense of friendship, hostility, indifference, whatever, and they are almost always people who don't exist in my waking life. In this case, they might have been my Red Cup/Paseo friends except that there was no one in the group I actually recognized.
For some reason, I began chanting to myself in a soft, barely audible voice. And it seemed to hurt my throat a little to do that, so I pitched my voice a couple of octaves lower. I don't know music so I can't tell what key I changed to, but it was down in the baritone/bass range.
So I started to chant like that –– Om mani padme hum –– and when I reached the down-inflection on 'hum,' something really weird happened. I spoke 'hum' in exactly the same key as what I guess I would call the basic pitch of the universe, and I felt this resonating vibration that encompassed my entire body and seemed to spread out and cause furniture and other objects to resonate as well. It felt like I had hit upon something powerful and amazing.
I did it again –– Om mani padme HUM –– and again everything around me seemed to resonate with the sound. I felt myself floating off my feet and I remember I drifted toward a mirror, but I didn't see anything in it. I didn't come right up to it; it was more like I drifted to withing three feet or so of it, then started to drift away again. Then I sort of floated toward a coat tree.
Om mani padme HUM.
And then I woke up.
I don't think that means anything spiritually profound, but it was an interesting dream. I have those floating/flying dream frequently, but the chanting thing was new to me.
I always wonder what's happening in my brain that makes me have the dreams I have.
In this dream, I was with a group of people. As I've mentioned before, there are frequently people in my dreams who give me some vague sense of friendship, hostility, indifference, whatever, and they are almost always people who don't exist in my waking life. In this case, they might have been my Red Cup/Paseo friends except that there was no one in the group I actually recognized.
For some reason, I began chanting to myself in a soft, barely audible voice. And it seemed to hurt my throat a little to do that, so I pitched my voice a couple of octaves lower. I don't know music so I can't tell what key I changed to, but it was down in the baritone/bass range.
So I started to chant like that –– Om mani padme hum –– and when I reached the down-inflection on 'hum,' something really weird happened. I spoke 'hum' in exactly the same key as what I guess I would call the basic pitch of the universe, and I felt this resonating vibration that encompassed my entire body and seemed to spread out and cause furniture and other objects to resonate as well. It felt like I had hit upon something powerful and amazing.
I did it again –– Om mani padme HUM –– and again everything around me seemed to resonate with the sound. I felt myself floating off my feet and I remember I drifted toward a mirror, but I didn't see anything in it. I didn't come right up to it; it was more like I drifted to withing three feet or so of it, then started to drift away again. Then I sort of floated toward a coat tree.
Om mani padme HUM.
And then I woke up.
I don't think that means anything spiritually profound, but it was an interesting dream. I have those floating/flying dream frequently, but the chanting thing was new to me.
I always wonder what's happening in my brain that makes me have the dreams I have.
The sound of one cat barfing
RJ asks:
Boy, do I ever know the answer to that one.
Which is worse to step in after you've kicked off your Birkenstocks at the front door? Fresh, warm cat barf or cold, mid-morning cat barf?
if a cat barfs and no one is there to hear...did she barf??
Boy, do I ever know the answer to that one.
Which is worse to step in after you've kicked off your Birkenstocks at the front door? Fresh, warm cat barf or cold, mid-morning cat barf?
Thursday, July 13, 2006
Never Mind (Sorry, Jerry)
I just found out what the minimum is I have to raise for this jail thing.
I won't give you a dollar figure, but it's a lot. And they say it's the minimum. Like what? I'll languish in MDA jail at the Bourbon Street Cafe for years and years if I can't raise this? This is a lot of money, folks, at least for any of my friends.
Unless they are willing to take payment in the precious heirloom investment of original cat barf art, I think MDA is going to have to let me off the hook.
I won't give you a dollar figure, but it's a lot. And they say it's the minimum. Like what? I'll languish in MDA jail at the Bourbon Street Cafe for years and years if I can't raise this? This is a lot of money, folks, at least for any of my friends.
Unless they are willing to take payment in the precious heirloom investment of original cat barf art, I think MDA is going to have to let me off the hook.
3:15 am
I'm ready to go live in the cave now. I mean, right now. Me, some cats, and plenty of sinus spray. In a cave. Om mani padme hum.
iTunes: Rama Sreerama, U Srinivas
iTunes: Rama Sreerama, U Srinivas
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Other news: MDA Lockup
I have been volunteered for the MDA Executive Lockup, which is not far away. I don't even know how much I'm supposed to raise -- it's on a web site which seems to be not very Mac-friendly -- I can't even read it.
So expect to hear from me. Put money aside now, because if I'm in jail, I can't blog.
So expect to hear from me. Put money aside now, because if I'm in jail, I can't blog.
Pop-up Zen books
Okay, no pop-up Zen books, but:
Zen Shorts, by Jon J. Muth
I first becamse aware of Muth as a late seventies/early eighties comic book artist. He is the author of this children's book featuring a Zen master panda named Stillwater who shares Zen and Taoist tales with children.
The Tao of Pooh, by Benjamin Hoff
The follow-up, Te of Piglet, is very political, extremely dated and therefore utterly forgettable (in my opinion), but Tao of Pooh is a classic. It is also now, I think, the only place you can find the original, pre-Disney illustrations from Milne's children's books.
The Perfect Zen Companion, featuring teachings by Seung Sahn
This is the book I totally didn't get when I first read it, then one day, months later, ping! Suddenly it made sense. He's da man. Well, now he's dead. But he was da man. A posthumous book of his teachings, "Seeking Enlightenment is a Big Mistake!" is due out next month.
And, as always, anything by Alan Watts. Also dead, also da man.
Zen Shorts, by Jon J. Muth
I first becamse aware of Muth as a late seventies/early eighties comic book artist. He is the author of this children's book featuring a Zen master panda named Stillwater who shares Zen and Taoist tales with children.
The Tao of Pooh, by Benjamin Hoff
The follow-up, Te of Piglet, is very political, extremely dated and therefore utterly forgettable (in my opinion), but Tao of Pooh is a classic. It is also now, I think, the only place you can find the original, pre-Disney illustrations from Milne's children's books.
The Perfect Zen Companion, featuring teachings by Seung Sahn
This is the book I totally didn't get when I first read it, then one day, months later, ping! Suddenly it made sense. He's da man. Well, now he's dead. But he was da man. A posthumous book of his teachings, "Seeking Enlightenment is a Big Mistake!" is due out next month.
And, as always, anything by Alan Watts. Also dead, also da man.
Wednesday, 3:20 a.m.
Wheee, just like the good old days. I can't sleep. Quiet mind, where the hell are you?
iTunes: Koku, Okada Michiaki
iTunes: Koku, Okada Michiaki
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
The Quiet Mind - Where the %$&@ is it, dammit? #$*&^!!
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Monday, July 10, 2006
Here...
Front row: Ron, RJ, Nurse McCampbell (or is it MacCampbell? I dunno)
Back row: The Gary, Dave R, Tall Ed, Igor
iTunes: Kyabdro Semkye, Choying Drolma and Steve Tibbets
For god's sake, make up a name or something
We've got more anonymous comments here than a truck stop men's room stall.
Sunday, July 09, 2006
Random Stuff redux
anonymous aka Blogblah! said: Thus, you will ALWAYS have an excuse to make yourself unhappy.
Well, I like to have that fallback.
They are only two of the 2,800 Americans who could pay an estate tax under current law.
I remember reading somewhere –– probably in a Kevin Phillips or Robert Reich book –– that the estate tax wasn't created because we needed the money. It was created to prevent the kind of huge hereditary fortunes that dominated European culture and politics.
90 billion would cover about 60 days of the war in Iraq.
anonymous number two said: The real problem is going to Target, or much much worse Wal Mart, on a Sunday morning. Don't do it! Put your hands up and walk away from creepy, depressing capitalism. Besides, you should be in church.
I was out of toothpaste. How else am I going to style my hair?
anonymous 3 said: There are tremendous social inequities in the American system that ought to be overcome, but probably won't before the whole thing implodes on itself and we must become accustomed to a very unfamiliar (for us) new social norm, that of packing iron and dodging others' bullets as we go about our daily bidness. Imagine present-day Baghdad.
I don't think we'll reach that point. I think we'll be like the present-day UK, with China or India taking over our current role.
"Luck," The Really Big Star said. "Don't bullshit yourself into thinking I'm any more talented or capable or determined than those guys. I'm just luckier."
And what do you do about THAT?
I don't think I have any right to ask other people to feel sorry for me if I'm not willing to show some initiative and feel sorry for myself first.
Random stuff
I went to Target this morning and picked up some stuff I forgot the other day. I noticed a few guys working there, decked out in khakis and the red Tarjay polo shirt, who seemed to be my age or close to it, hauling around hand trucks loaded with garden supplies and Skil saws. Every time I see that or something like it, I have to ask myself what circumstances led them to where they are and led me to where I am.
My recently-retired boss hired me when it would have been in her own self-interest to choose someone else. I was, in most respects, eminently qualified for the job. But a more popular choice would have been someone maybe 70% as good, twenty years younger, a lot better-looking, and with a more energetic personality. (I do a lot of work; it's just that I don't look busy when I'm doing it. This got me into all kinds of trouble in my TV career, where the image is vastly more important than the reality.)
In fact, she could have found someone just as good and twenty years younger and a lot better-looking. But she chose me instead, and as a result, I have a job I mostly enjoy, with decent pay, a great vacation schedule, and a fairly conventional 8-to-5 40-hour week.
But it's Sunday morning, I'm off, and the Target guys –– who work just as hard as me and are probably as smart as me and maybe even better-educated than me, a college dropout –– are hauling around dollies and hand trucks.
And I don't know why. The natural flow of the Tao? Bad karma?
After leaving Target, near my own neighborhood, I passed a man with long, dirty hair, and a huge untrimmed beard. He was very thin, but not emaciated, shirtless and wearing a pair of dirty jeans. He was hauling a shopping cart which held a battered and obviously no-longer-functional window air conditioner and a few other pieces of scrap metal. I assume he found the air conditioner on someone's curb, awaiting bulky waste pickup. As I passed him he stooped and picked up a discarded Dr. Pepper can and threw it in the shopping cart.
Why is he where he is, scavenging (I assume) to survive, while the Target guys are working in an air-conditioned building with regular pay and some benefits, and I'm off for the day altogether? Tao? Karma?
On a somewhat, but not completely related note:
Most of us come face-to-face at some point in our lives with the dicovery that our national 'meritocracy' is sort of like the idea of Santa Claus or his second cousin, a compassionate loving God: it would be great if it were true. Certainly our national culture has some meritocratic aspects –– moreso that Victorian England, for example –– but to say that it's based entirely on merit is foolish. Moreover, it's becoming less based on merit with each passing day.
iTunes: Maha Shakti, Debashish Bhattacharya
My recently-retired boss hired me when it would have been in her own self-interest to choose someone else. I was, in most respects, eminently qualified for the job. But a more popular choice would have been someone maybe 70% as good, twenty years younger, a lot better-looking, and with a more energetic personality. (I do a lot of work; it's just that I don't look busy when I'm doing it. This got me into all kinds of trouble in my TV career, where the image is vastly more important than the reality.)
In fact, she could have found someone just as good and twenty years younger and a lot better-looking. But she chose me instead, and as a result, I have a job I mostly enjoy, with decent pay, a great vacation schedule, and a fairly conventional 8-to-5 40-hour week.
But it's Sunday morning, I'm off, and the Target guys –– who work just as hard as me and are probably as smart as me and maybe even better-educated than me, a college dropout –– are hauling around dollies and hand trucks.
And I don't know why. The natural flow of the Tao? Bad karma?
After leaving Target, near my own neighborhood, I passed a man with long, dirty hair, and a huge untrimmed beard. He was very thin, but not emaciated, shirtless and wearing a pair of dirty jeans. He was hauling a shopping cart which held a battered and obviously no-longer-functional window air conditioner and a few other pieces of scrap metal. I assume he found the air conditioner on someone's curb, awaiting bulky waste pickup. As I passed him he stooped and picked up a discarded Dr. Pepper can and threw it in the shopping cart.
Why is he where he is, scavenging (I assume) to survive, while the Target guys are working in an air-conditioned building with regular pay and some benefits, and I'm off for the day altogether? Tao? Karma?
On a somewhat, but not completely related note:
Most of us come face-to-face at some point in our lives with the dicovery that our national 'meritocracy' is sort of like the idea of Santa Claus or his second cousin, a compassionate loving God: it would be great if it were true. Certainly our national culture has some meritocratic aspects –– moreso that Victorian England, for example –– but to say that it's based entirely on merit is foolish. Moreover, it's becoming less based on merit with each passing day.
iTunes: Maha Shakti, Debashish Bhattacharya
Saturday, July 08, 2006
Saturday PM
I'm spending the evening with Alan Watts and Orville Redenbacher.
There's some sandalwood vanilla incense burning.
iTunes: Dance - The Angels of Light, Riley Lee
There's some sandalwood vanilla incense burning.
iTunes: Dance - The Angels of Light, Riley Lee
Responses to comments
Patrizia: You don't answer comments, do you?
Often I respond with another comment, so it's down at the bottom of the list of comments for that post. I know some bloggers put responses in separate posts. I've done that a few times; maybe I should make it standard practice.
(btw: I have yet to figure out how post comments on Mallory's Camera. Do I have to have an account with your blog host?)
anonymous: you seem happy compared to me. Wonder why that is?
blogblah
I think that's a matter of perception. My perception is that you're usually much more engaged in the conversation than I am, and seem more upbeat than me.
But if I do seem happier than you, it may be the minivan, which gives that jaunty air of mindless suburban cheerfulness.
nina: In the movie, Travellers and Magicians the monk says, “Urban life is depressing.”
This is something I've been thinking about. Buddhism and Taoism both arose in times when their home countries were divided into small kingdoms. Fashions and politics changed, but technology remained constant for thousands of years. We got gunpowder (primarily for entertainment, since no one had invented a gun, yet) and block printing, but beyond that, technology consisted mainly of breeding stronger oxen. So, for the average Buddhist or Taoist or Chan/Zen practitioner, everyday life remained essentially unchanged for generation after generation.
What would Bodhidharma or Chuang-Tzu make of the Dallas mixmaster? Or any cable pundit show? I think they'd throw up their hands and walk off into the woods.
Urban life runs counter to millions of years of evolution. Natural selection pulled us toward small tribal communities (anthropologists and geneticists feel free to dispute this), but our own advanced intellect pulled us toward the gawdawful messes we have now.
anonymous (aka, I assume, JohnX):...but if you spontaneously combust, can I video it?
Sure, but I'm not expecting combustion. I think I'll just swell up, like I have a really bad case of gas, then keep swelling until I pop. There'll be innards all over the place, which I assume the cats will then eat.
And probably barf.
Soartstar: At least you're not normal.
I didn't need a test to find that out.
Friday, July 07, 2006
Depression test results
Now, let's not go leaping to conclusions here.
For example, if someone feels like they're a pointless failure, and they actually are a pointless failure, does that count as depression?
I want more information.
Well, actually I don't want more information. Screw it.
Thursday, July 06, 2006
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Meanwhile...
I see where North Korea launched six missiles out over the sea. So at least somebody's getting something done.
I still have laundry piled up ankle-deep.
I still have laundry piled up ankle-deep.
Happy as a freakin' clam
I guess I conveyed the impression in a previous post that I'm depressed.
But I'm not. What do I have to be depressed about? I'm so happy I could explode.
So if you hear something coming from my part of town, that might be it... me just blowing up because I'm so freakin' happy.
But I'm not. What do I have to be depressed about? I'm so happy I could explode.
So if you hear something coming from my part of town, that might be it... me just blowing up because I'm so freakin' happy.
Tuesday, July 04, 2006
Independence Day – 10:30 pm
Feeling a little down. But life is. It just is. What else?
Three sticks of Craig's clove incense burning.
Going to bed.
I'm grateful to know all of you.
Om mani padme hum.
iTunes: Silk Thread to the Cosmos, Riley Lee
Three sticks of Craig's clove incense burning.
Going to bed.
I'm grateful to know all of you.
Om mani padme hum.
iTunes: Silk Thread to the Cosmos, Riley Lee
Monday, July 03, 2006
Independence Day Eve
July 3rd. It's Monday, which is a 'quiet day' for me even when it's not the day before a holiday.
I could be sitting right now, or doing some housecleaning, or working in the yard before darkness falls. But here I am at the computer.
I went to Homeland tonight to pick up groceries and some cash for tomorrow. I forgot to get cat food. Tonight, I put some Life cereal out for them. I eat it dry out of the box all the time –– if Mikey likes it, maybe the cats will, too.
Satori started nibbling on it right away, but the other cats seem unimpressed.
I think I failed to mention I have a new vacuum cleaner, chosen for me over the weekend by RJ, who is Kat's mom. I have had vacuum cleaners in the past, and I eventually gave up on them because they're loud, obnoxious, have long power cords that have to be recoiled, accessories that fall off and get lost, they scare the cats, etc., etc. But I am determined to de-squalor the house, and Kat and RJ believe a vacuum cleaner will help. So I yield to their better-informed opinion in this matter.
When the house is totally back in order, I'll have a garage sale consisting entirely of orphaned vacuum cleaner attachments that have turned up during the cleaning.
Here's a question: does the house look like hell because I am non-attached to neatness, or because I am attached to lying around on my butt? Or just attached to my butt, upon which I happen to lie around?
Round round, lie around, I lie around
Yeah
Lie around lie around, I lie around
Lie around round round I lie around
I lie around
Lie around round round I lie around
I'm lyin' down
Lie around round round I lie around
I get a bad rap
Lie around round round I lie around
Cause my house looks like crap.
I've been following Nina's Flibbertigibbet! blog about her search for what's-his-name. Even when I was sure I was possessed of vast measures of useful advice –– a belief about which I now have contradicting enlightenment –– I never tried to tell people about relationships.
Well, actually, I did. But I was full of shit. Getting relationship advice from me is like getting popularity tips from Dick Cheney.
Personally, I'd be scared to put my face on one of those 'Am I hot or not?' web sites. I don't think there's that much 'not' available on the Internet.
I wonder if there's a "Am I depressed or not?" web site. Soartstar thinks I'm depressed. I say that it's possible to hope a meteor hits your house and vaporizes you instantly and painlessly in your sleep without letting it turn into depression.
iTunes: Midare (Disorder), Aiko Hasegawa, followed by Voice of the Moon, Anoushka Shankar
I could be sitting right now, or doing some housecleaning, or working in the yard before darkness falls. But here I am at the computer.
I went to Homeland tonight to pick up groceries and some cash for tomorrow. I forgot to get cat food. Tonight, I put some Life cereal out for them. I eat it dry out of the box all the time –– if Mikey likes it, maybe the cats will, too.
Satori started nibbling on it right away, but the other cats seem unimpressed.
I think I failed to mention I have a new vacuum cleaner, chosen for me over the weekend by RJ, who is Kat's mom. I have had vacuum cleaners in the past, and I eventually gave up on them because they're loud, obnoxious, have long power cords that have to be recoiled, accessories that fall off and get lost, they scare the cats, etc., etc. But I am determined to de-squalor the house, and Kat and RJ believe a vacuum cleaner will help. So I yield to their better-informed opinion in this matter.
When the house is totally back in order, I'll have a garage sale consisting entirely of orphaned vacuum cleaner attachments that have turned up during the cleaning.
Here's a question: does the house look like hell because I am non-attached to neatness, or because I am attached to lying around on my butt? Or just attached to my butt, upon which I happen to lie around?
Round round, lie around, I lie around
Yeah
Lie around lie around, I lie around
Lie around round round I lie around
I lie around
Lie around round round I lie around
I'm lyin' down
Lie around round round I lie around
I get a bad rap
Lie around round round I lie around
Cause my house looks like crap.
I've been following Nina's Flibbertigibbet! blog about her search for what's-his-name. Even when I was sure I was possessed of vast measures of useful advice –– a belief about which I now have contradicting enlightenment –– I never tried to tell people about relationships.
Well, actually, I did. But I was full of shit. Getting relationship advice from me is like getting popularity tips from Dick Cheney.
Personally, I'd be scared to put my face on one of those 'Am I hot or not?' web sites. I don't think there's that much 'not' available on the Internet.
I wonder if there's a "Am I depressed or not?" web site. Soartstar thinks I'm depressed. I say that it's possible to hope a meteor hits your house and vaporizes you instantly and painlessly in your sleep without letting it turn into depression.
iTunes: Midare (Disorder), Aiko Hasegawa, followed by Voice of the Moon, Anoushka Shankar
Sunday, July 02, 2006
Sunday evening
I had lunch today at Catfish Cabin... first time I had eaten there since 197-something. Great comfort food.
iTunes: Sahanaa Vavavtu, Ravi Shankar
iTunes: Sahanaa Vavavtu, Ravi Shankar
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