It was nice to see Anne drop by and leave a comment! Hi, Anne!
She noted the little Twitter box. Yes, it is a little fun, but I get the sense that I'm not experiencing the full value, because A) I don't use text messaging --it's not part of my phone plan, so each message would cost extra, and B) I don't have a Mac --for which there are apparently some nice messaging and other applications through which you can pop a note over to Twitter without having to log in to the Twitter site.
For me, instead, it's mostly a new way to keep in touch with my friend JamesJames in Toronto. He's a very nice and smart guy, this JamesJames, and through his little Twitter posts I feel like I "see" him all the time, much like the old days, a friend walking in to work, yet again proclaiming his undying passion for his Starbucks coffee.
Dmitry Chepovetsky, by way of cleaning up the mystery left by my previous drunken post, is an actor who was studying in the Ryerson Theatre program when I and my friends were at Ryerson's film school. I'm sure to this day he'll say that his greatest role ever was in Stephen Ayres' film, "When I Grow Up," YEAH! That was such a fun shoot! (Stephen, I swear I still don't know why my underwear was on the rock outside the cabin. I swear!) Nowadays, Dmitry is a big TV and movie star, but I hadn't been paying attention, so when I saw him in Man of the Year, I was quite astonished and thrilled. Yay, Dmitry!
Meanwhile, I am now officially finished my semester, and I seem to have managed to squeek by with my silly grad-4.0 (because it sure isn't 4.0 if you count undergrad) intact --official results due later today. One cool trick that came in handy for both my classes was Google's Page Creator, suggested by a classmate named Michael Wood. I can build a static web site from scratch, of course, and I do have some web space through school and our ISP, but when I had a couple of different assignments for which I had to "present" either a recorded voice presentation or a web page... Googlepages was so very much easier than building my own. When you just need to put a couple of pages out there quickly, try it --it is FREE, which is just the way I like it. All you need is a Gmail account.
Finally, because this is a tips and tricks post, let me take a moment to shout out to my friend, the restickable glue stick. You would not believe how useful this is. It's kinda like... it's kinda like when we bought our multi-purpose printer-scanner-copier-fax machine, and I thought the one thing I really would never use is the copier, and wouldn't you know we probably use the copier every day? I use the restickable glue stick to put stuff up on my wall beside my desk: Luther's class schedule for the next two semesters, the colors I am thinking are right for painting the house, the notes from a halfway finished job...
...which I should finish now.
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Dmitry Chepovetsky
Buzzed and sleepy, and I have a Luther two rooms away that...
Well, let's leave that to the imagination.
Meanwhile, look up Dmitry Chepovetsy. I love this man. Check him out. I am so STOKED to see him in Man of the (okay, the name of the movie sucked and I don't remember it, but Robin Williams became president).
Dmitry.
I swear I was freaking out. Yay, Dmitry!
Well, let's leave that to the imagination.
Meanwhile, look up Dmitry Chepovetsy. I love this man. Check him out. I am so STOKED to see him in Man of the (okay, the name of the movie sucked and I don't remember it, but Robin Williams became president).
Dmitry.
I swear I was freaking out. Yay, Dmitry!
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Getting a grip
I'm up at 11:20 p.m., which used to be pretty early but has been pretty late for quite a while.
I have a screenplay to read and a screenplay to write. I have French CDs and Greek CDs to comprend et katalaveno, et je comprend un peu, mais then katalaveno. Oh boy do I ever then katalaveno, sheesh.
I know it's a tired phrase, but I'm not getting any younger. And the gym isn't getting any closer.
I've been planning to paint all the closet doors since we bought the house that we bought four years ago. Or has it been five? And the bathrooms need painting. The fan downstairs has been halfway-installed for millenia, it seems.
A friend of mine asked about business card designs and I had a whole clear idea about cool, creative things to be done, and I have the Photoshopping to prove it, just... no actual designs. I got my cousin's phone number last week, because I think my cousin actually lives not far from where we plan to move to, but I haven't tried calling him. I installed Skype after two months of procrastination, but I don't turn it on.
Is it just me?
On the up side, I have a presentation to attend, and a short exam, and I'll be finished the semester. My next class starts in three weeks, and I intend to graduate in the fall. I am working; I am working from home, which makes me feel like a slouch for all the things I could be doing and am not doing, but on the other hand I am working and occasionally I even get paid. I submitted another little short story to Jason's new and lovely contest. I helped one of Luther's school friends write a letter, and for some reason she sent me some money when it was done. I mowed the lawn... twice. Sometimes I remember to water it.
Yeah. It's just me.
I have a screenplay to read and a screenplay to write. I have French CDs and Greek CDs to comprend et katalaveno, et je comprend un peu, mais then katalaveno. Oh boy do I ever then katalaveno, sheesh.
I know it's a tired phrase, but I'm not getting any younger. And the gym isn't getting any closer.
I've been planning to paint all the closet doors since we bought the house that we bought four years ago. Or has it been five? And the bathrooms need painting. The fan downstairs has been halfway-installed for millenia, it seems.
A friend of mine asked about business card designs and I had a whole clear idea about cool, creative things to be done, and I have the Photoshopping to prove it, just... no actual designs. I got my cousin's phone number last week, because I think my cousin actually lives not far from where we plan to move to, but I haven't tried calling him. I installed Skype after two months of procrastination, but I don't turn it on.
Is it just me?
On the up side, I have a presentation to attend, and a short exam, and I'll be finished the semester. My next class starts in three weeks, and I intend to graduate in the fall. I am working; I am working from home, which makes me feel like a slouch for all the things I could be doing and am not doing, but on the other hand I am working and occasionally I even get paid. I submitted another little short story to Jason's new and lovely contest. I helped one of Luther's school friends write a letter, and for some reason she sent me some money when it was done. I mowed the lawn... twice. Sometimes I remember to water it.
Yeah. It's just me.
If only we could come up with a reason to go to war
First, I want to say that "these people" is not a good way to refer to any group, but in the case of Bush et al, I just don't think "this administration" is necessarily correct in all cases. Some of his buddies aren't precisely part of the administration, and I have a vague (perhaps unfounded) notion that some members of this administration aren't part of "these people," either. So I'm going to use "these people," and you can imagine who I am referring to.
These people just amaze me.
Do you remember when Saddam Hussein had engineered the attack on the World Trade Center? No? Why not? It seems to have faded from the public record, perhaps because shortly after that reason to go to war against Iraq, these people had to admit that Saddam Hussein wasn't directly responsible. But then he had at least aided Osama bin Laden, and was perhaps sheltering him in the aftermath. Later, he hadn't actually given aid to Osama bin Laden, but it was clear that he was a really bad man and we needed to save the poor, oppressed women in Iraq. I remember the few weeks when it was all about women's lives. What? You don't remember that either?
It seemed like every time we turned the radio on, there was a new reason for attacking Iraq. These days, they're even losing their grip on the completely hopeless "bring democracy" mission, so it's all about the country being a haven for terrorist activity, nevermind the fact that this situation is exacerbated by the fact that we attacked in the first place.
But I'm not here to talk about Iraq today. No, I'm just reliving the shifting sands of untruths. Check this out, and tell me it doesn't sound awfully familiar:
When the firing-of-attorneys thing finally fades from the news cycle, I wonder what the last reason will turn out to be?
These people just amaze me.
Do you remember when Saddam Hussein had engineered the attack on the World Trade Center? No? Why not? It seems to have faded from the public record, perhaps because shortly after that reason to go to war against Iraq, these people had to admit that Saddam Hussein wasn't directly responsible. But then he had at least aided Osama bin Laden, and was perhaps sheltering him in the aftermath. Later, he hadn't actually given aid to Osama bin Laden, but it was clear that he was a really bad man and we needed to save the poor, oppressed women in Iraq. I remember the few weeks when it was all about women's lives. What? You don't remember that either?
It seemed like every time we turned the radio on, there was a new reason for attacking Iraq. These days, they're even losing their grip on the completely hopeless "bring democracy" mission, so it's all about the country being a haven for terrorist activity, nevermind the fact that this situation is exacerbated by the fact that we attacked in the first place.
But I'm not here to talk about Iraq today. No, I'm just reliving the shifting sands of untruths. Check this out, and tell me it doesn't sound awfully familiar:
The Office of Special Counsel is also responsible for protecting the job rights of National Guard and Reserve members who are called away for military duty. In that capacity, Bloch is looking into whether David Iglesias, one of eight U.S. attorneys dismissed earlier this year, was punished for missing work to serve in the Navy Reserve.
Iglesias, who was the U.S. attorney for New Mexico until he was replaced in February, was cited as an "absentee landlord" in a Justice Department document laying out reasons for his termination. William Moschella, the No. 3 official at Justice, told a House subcommittee in March that Iglesias was fired because he delegated too much responsibility to his deputy.
Attorney General Alberto Gonzales' former chief of staff, Kyle Sampson, recently told the Senate Judiciary Committee that Iglesias was added to the list of prosecutors to be replaced after the midterm elections, and that Rove had complained Iglesias had not pursued voter fraud cases aggressively enough.
Iglesias has said he felt "leaned on" when two Republican members of New Mexico's congressional delegation, Sen. Pete Domenici and Rep. Heather Wilson, called him to inquire about pending corruption cases against state Democrats before the election.
http://www.cnn.com/2007/POLITICS/04/24/rove.probe/index.html
When the firing-of-attorneys thing finally fades from the news cycle, I wonder what the last reason will turn out to be?
Monday, April 23, 2007
Defeat in Iraq? Mission Accomplished!
I don't understand why Bush et al are so freaked out by Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid's statement last week that the "war is lost."
I mean, with this administration's vast experience of meaningless statements about the war - Mission Accomplished anyone? - why should they fear anybody would take this latest one seriously?
I mean, with this administration's vast experience of meaningless statements about the war - Mission Accomplished anyone? - why should they fear anybody would take this latest one seriously?
Friday, April 20, 2007
Angry people get angrier when they're told they're too angry
This morning, the Virginia Tech shootings finally got to me. I'm not sure what it was. All of a sudden, there were tears. Last night, I was laughing while watching Bowling for Columbine, and this morning, I was crying for a crazy young man and what I can only assume was a kind of desperation that led him to wantonly destroy other human beings.
Luther and I have talked about it all a few times. I roll my eyes at the simultaneously consoling and alarming messages about grief and security from my school, Southern Poly, and Luther's, Macon State. Life for these Georgia students is no different today than it was yesterday, but school administrators seem to delight in insisting that everything has changed. A crazy person with a couple of guns could shoot you at your work as easily as at your school, and it's not a new thing. I was standing at a gas pump a half hour ago remembering that somebody with a gun can shoot me from where he is hiding in the trunk of his car much more easily than he could shoot me in a classroom on a college campus. The fact is that it is all easy. Practically everybody has access to a gun, and when you're not worried about getting out alive, you can take a lot of people with you when you die.
It might be the gun arguments that are getting to me most of all. I don't really believe that guns are a necessary part of life. We have them. We rarely even think about them, let alone take them out and use them. But the other day I read an article in the National Post that quoted a young woman in Montreal, whose school had witnessed a shooting last fall, and in response to Virginia Tech, her question was, How can people be allowed to own a gun like that? And I laughed. It was the kind of question I can't imagine hearing from an American, even now.
And then I read in today's junk on CNN.com, an article by Ted Nugent, who in my limited experience talks like every other "gun nut" in this country. You'd have to be crazy and by the way, dickless to suggest that we shouldn't own guns. He goes on to talk about the examples of gun owners who have saved the day, preventing other gun owners from shooting other people.
You can argue the whole gun thing both ways, but THAT particular argument is what makes this whole thing stink. THAT argument is what makes this country a voilent and selfish and frightening place to live. Because what Ted Nugent is saying is that if we are to be responsible, if we are to do the RIGHT thing, we must counter gun ownership with guns of our own. The more guns there are out there, and the more willing people are to use them, the more guns we ought to have, and the more willing we ought to be to use them.
That's just plain sick.
This kind of violence will only get worse if we maintain and encourage the mentality that the right answer to our fears and the dangers we perceive around us is to arm ourselves. And if this is what Mr. Nugent really believes, then perhaps he would like to step up and take the blame for a young man that conquered his enemies and himself at Virginia Tech the other day. Because I won't blame the gun.
I'll blame the asshole.
Luther and I have talked about it all a few times. I roll my eyes at the simultaneously consoling and alarming messages about grief and security from my school, Southern Poly, and Luther's, Macon State. Life for these Georgia students is no different today than it was yesterday, but school administrators seem to delight in insisting that everything has changed. A crazy person with a couple of guns could shoot you at your work as easily as at your school, and it's not a new thing. I was standing at a gas pump a half hour ago remembering that somebody with a gun can shoot me from where he is hiding in the trunk of his car much more easily than he could shoot me in a classroom on a college campus. The fact is that it is all easy. Practically everybody has access to a gun, and when you're not worried about getting out alive, you can take a lot of people with you when you die.
It might be the gun arguments that are getting to me most of all. I don't really believe that guns are a necessary part of life. We have them. We rarely even think about them, let alone take them out and use them. But the other day I read an article in the National Post that quoted a young woman in Montreal, whose school had witnessed a shooting last fall, and in response to Virginia Tech, her question was, How can people be allowed to own a gun like that? And I laughed. It was the kind of question I can't imagine hearing from an American, even now.
And then I read in today's junk on CNN.com, an article by Ted Nugent, who in my limited experience talks like every other "gun nut" in this country. You'd have to be crazy and by the way, dickless to suggest that we shouldn't own guns. He goes on to talk about the examples of gun owners who have saved the day, preventing other gun owners from shooting other people.
You can argue the whole gun thing both ways, but THAT particular argument is what makes this whole thing stink. THAT argument is what makes this country a voilent and selfish and frightening place to live. Because what Ted Nugent is saying is that if we are to be responsible, if we are to do the RIGHT thing, we must counter gun ownership with guns of our own. The more guns there are out there, and the more willing people are to use them, the more guns we ought to have, and the more willing we ought to be to use them.
That's just plain sick.
This kind of violence will only get worse if we maintain and encourage the mentality that the right answer to our fears and the dangers we perceive around us is to arm ourselves. And if this is what Mr. Nugent really believes, then perhaps he would like to step up and take the blame for a young man that conquered his enemies and himself at Virginia Tech the other day. Because I won't blame the gun.
I'll blame the asshole.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
The "Endless Hour" Short Fiction Contest, Woot!
Come one, come all, and join me in giving Jason Evans far too much to read. Yes, he is hosting another short fiction contest.
How much can you say in 250 words?
Visit the Endless Hour at Clarity of Night for details on the rules of the game, as well as the photograph that will be your inspiration.
And don't forget to check out the past entries for Jason's fun contests --you'll find the links in his blog.
Thanks, Jason! Now, to shake out my memories of the days before dishwashers...
How much can you say in 250 words?
Visit the Endless Hour at Clarity of Night for details on the rules of the game, as well as the photograph that will be your inspiration.
And don't forget to check out the past entries for Jason's fun contests --you'll find the links in his blog.
Thanks, Jason! Now, to shake out my memories of the days before dishwashers...
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
June Callwood
"I’m all right with the doom questions," she said, adding that she was not afraid of death. "I don’t think there’s anything to fear. I do fear dependency, and I’ve talked to my doctor about that: ‘Don’t you leave me lying there in a diaper with tubes all over. No, no, no.’ Most of us, my generation, share the same feeling that we don’t want to be dependent and we don’t want to be undignified. You’re going to go, and if you can find a way to go quickly, that’s the best."
At the time, she also chuckled about her poor family who, she said, did not share her enthusiasm for dying. "They’re showing a little grumpiness about this, although they’re getting a lot of preparation. Every time they open the damn newspaper, I’m dying again." Then she laughed, that silvery sweet laugh her friends and family knew so intimately.
When she was still around nearly two years later, her tumours having stabilized, she joked about it. "I'm finding it rather embarrassing that I'm not dead," she told The Toronto Star in January 2006. I'm not the least afraid of dying, but I'm beginning to be concerned about not dying."
National Post: June Callwood, author and activist, dead at 82
Monday, April 16, 2007
Nappy-headed hos
I'm not a big rap fan. And I agree that the "rap culture" and the lucrative businesses that trademark it pretty much rests their money-making power on putting down women and minorities. Yep. Swear words don't scare me, but ugly, violent attitudes as displayed on a constant basis... what is one to do?
I disagree, however, that the Imus faux pas should be related to rap music and any other entertainment genre.
Imus is a radio personality. And he's made a name for himself by "speaking his mind," which translates in a public sense to "saying shocking things in order to convince people that I'm speaking my mind and not being all PC and stuff." But when he was talking about Rutgers' women's basketball players, he was delivering some sports commentary. And he was talking about real women who can be identified by name, who have fans, who have families that might be listening; young women who might be listening themselves.
They're not generic "hos" in a rap song. They're basketball players. And if he doesn't like that they're strong, and they're proud, and they're rough, and they're tough... that doesn't excuse labeling them as prostitutes.
In a rap song or stand-up comedy routine, sure, the concept ugly enough. It's just not personal. And it's not nationally syndicated. And it's not married with a racist slant.
Get over it everybody. Pick on rap if you want to, but understand it has nothing at all to do with Imus. Imus is getting his knuckles rapped because he was just a little bit more of an asshole on the air than he is paid to be. Rap musicians are barely scratching the surface of what they're paid to be.
I disagree, however, that the Imus faux pas should be related to rap music and any other entertainment genre.
Imus is a radio personality. And he's made a name for himself by "speaking his mind," which translates in a public sense to "saying shocking things in order to convince people that I'm speaking my mind and not being all PC and stuff." But when he was talking about Rutgers' women's basketball players, he was delivering some sports commentary. And he was talking about real women who can be identified by name, who have fans, who have families that might be listening; young women who might be listening themselves.
They're not generic "hos" in a rap song. They're basketball players. And if he doesn't like that they're strong, and they're proud, and they're rough, and they're tough... that doesn't excuse labeling them as prostitutes.
In a rap song or stand-up comedy routine, sure, the concept ugly enough. It's just not personal. And it's not nationally syndicated. And it's not married with a racist slant.
Get over it everybody. Pick on rap if you want to, but understand it has nothing at all to do with Imus. Imus is getting his knuckles rapped because he was just a little bit more of an asshole on the air than he is paid to be. Rap musicians are barely scratching the surface of what they're paid to be.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Film school
I keep wondering what Wil studied in his "film" class in high school. They watched movies, including movies such as The Matrix. That's about all I've gathered.
I'm watching Mulan, the animated movie, on TV. Research questions immediately come to mind, for young students watching this American movie that makes use of a cartoon version of Chinese traditions. These should be opportunities to gain some perspective on the world, but also on film, on American storytelling, on how "foreign" is often used to depict situations we won't deal with in our own culture.
For example: Mulan is told that she should "learn her place." Men go to war, women make a home. Research women in combat in present day United States. Do women hold combat roles?
I'm watching Mulan, the animated movie, on TV. Research questions immediately come to mind, for young students watching this American movie that makes use of a cartoon version of Chinese traditions. These should be opportunities to gain some perspective on the world, but also on film, on American storytelling, on how "foreign" is often used to depict situations we won't deal with in our own culture.
For example: Mulan is told that she should "learn her place." Men go to war, women make a home. Research women in combat in present day United States. Do women hold combat roles?
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
Childhood obesity
There was a quick piece on the rise of childhood obesity on the news this evening. In the piece, the news organization said childhood obesity had been on the rise since 1963.
I blame convenience food. I've been blaming convenience food for quite a while. I remember being a teenager, and how easily I could have eaten a can of Chef Boyardee spagetti for every meal, without fail, if given the opportunity. It wasn't because I loved the food. It's because it was sweet and tart and easy.
Easy.
"Easy" in those days meant washing a pot afterward. And a bowl and a spoon. Nowadays, "easy" means throwing out the paper napkin you used as plate and napkin both, for your corn dog that came individually-wrapped in plastic. Where I used a stove (a gas stove, I might add), these days' kids use the microwave. Put the pre-wrapped item in the oven, press a button, wait 60 seconds, and then put the item on a napkin. When you're done, the waste goes in the trash. No preparation. No clean-up. Just eat.
Just eat.
I think it's significant. I live with a kid that is remarkably conservative about how much he consumes, and he's additionally willing to walk home each day from school (to the point that I worry that he won't take the bus when he needs to do so, but that's a different story). I'm pretty happy with where he's going with his health, except that when he's on his own, if not taunted by my comments, he'll eat... canned pasta and frozen corn dogs.
Canned pasta and frozen corn dogs aren't good for you. And kids who start their lives eating this stuff are in a real bind.
I know some parents. It is clearly not easy to get kids to eat stuff that's good for them. Then if you're busy, to get kids to MAKE stuff that's good for them? It's practically hopeless. "Honey, I'm going to be busy studying for my doctorate tonight, so I'm going to need you to make you're own dinner. Can you chop up some fresh vegetables for a salad instead of eating two of those frozen corn dogs from the freezer?" COME ON.
It's ridiculous.
Anyway, they said "1963."
When did the microwave become affordable in the average household?
Early 1960s.
When did TV dinners become common? When they started including desserts.
In the 1960s.
I don't think I'm crazy. Convenience is killing our kids.
Thank goodness I don't have one of my own, eh? Be drivin' me nuts.
I blame convenience food. I've been blaming convenience food for quite a while. I remember being a teenager, and how easily I could have eaten a can of Chef Boyardee spagetti for every meal, without fail, if given the opportunity. It wasn't because I loved the food. It's because it was sweet and tart and easy.
Easy.
"Easy" in those days meant washing a pot afterward. And a bowl and a spoon. Nowadays, "easy" means throwing out the paper napkin you used as plate and napkin both, for your corn dog that came individually-wrapped in plastic. Where I used a stove (a gas stove, I might add), these days' kids use the microwave. Put the pre-wrapped item in the oven, press a button, wait 60 seconds, and then put the item on a napkin. When you're done, the waste goes in the trash. No preparation. No clean-up. Just eat.
Just eat.
I think it's significant. I live with a kid that is remarkably conservative about how much he consumes, and he's additionally willing to walk home each day from school (to the point that I worry that he won't take the bus when he needs to do so, but that's a different story). I'm pretty happy with where he's going with his health, except that when he's on his own, if not taunted by my comments, he'll eat... canned pasta and frozen corn dogs.
Canned pasta and frozen corn dogs aren't good for you. And kids who start their lives eating this stuff are in a real bind.
I know some parents. It is clearly not easy to get kids to eat stuff that's good for them. Then if you're busy, to get kids to MAKE stuff that's good for them? It's practically hopeless. "Honey, I'm going to be busy studying for my doctorate tonight, so I'm going to need you to make you're own dinner. Can you chop up some fresh vegetables for a salad instead of eating two of those frozen corn dogs from the freezer?" COME ON.
It's ridiculous.
Anyway, they said "1963."
When did the microwave become affordable in the average household?
Early 1960s.
When did TV dinners become common? When they started including desserts.
In the 1960s.
I don't think I'm crazy. Convenience is killing our kids.
Thank goodness I don't have one of my own, eh? Be drivin' me nuts.
Sunday, April 01, 2007
Form 4562 is fucked up
Seriously. Look up IRS form 4562. Does it make any sense?
I dare you to tell me, what is "section 179"? Because my understanding is that I can take a "1st year expense" for my business that covers such things as the new computer (and the software to run it). But all 179 roads lead to form 4562, which has instructions attached, and the instructions say things like, "Section 179 property is property that you acquire by purchase ofr use in the active conduct of your trade or business, and is one of the following.
Tangible personal property."
Well, hell, wouldn't that cover everything? And if so, why do web sites all over differentiate between "equipment" and "first year expense"?
Ack. Argh.
I dare you to tell me, what is "section 179"? Because my understanding is that I can take a "1st year expense" for my business that covers such things as the new computer (and the software to run it). But all 179 roads lead to form 4562, which has instructions attached, and the instructions say things like, "Section 179 property is property that you acquire by purchase ofr use in the active conduct of your trade or business, and is one of the following.
Tangible personal property."
Well, hell, wouldn't that cover everything? And if so, why do web sites all over differentiate between "equipment" and "first year expense"?
Ack. Argh.
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Serious matters
Wow, this is bizarre. It's a quote from a news piece about the testimony of a former aide to Alberto Gonzales on the firings of U.S. attorneys. But doesn't it encapsulate so much more?
Leahy accused the Bush administration of "a series of shifting explanations, excuses, lack of accountability or even acknowledgment of the seriousness of this matter."Ex-aide contradicts Gonzales on attorney firings
A Lost Dog Ate My Brain
Alright, I'm good and spooked and up, sipping a Diet Coke. That's my current middle-of-the night vice: Diet Coke and the Internet.
Had a doozy of a dream tonight, starting with a chat with my Mom, Paul, and Aunt Donna, a literary analysis type of chat (because who doesn't have those?) about a specific book.
In the book, a man grows old and ultimately dies. He has a rich social circle, but he has a keen desire to pass something on to a direct heir. Unfortunately, his immediate family -especially, his son- go before him. As the story progresses, he winds up with his only "descendant" being the girlfriend of his son, a woman he never approved of, but late in his life, comes to respect and love. She is his posterity.
There are visuals, so I pictured Mom and Paul and Donna, the ice and... Calvados?... in our glasses, the printed words on paper, the old man -can't quite place him, but know him- and his "daughter," who is played by Helen Mirren. I've been a fan of hers since 2010 and that stupid pen fiasco, so don't go all The Queen on me.
Well, Donna wants to know, have I read the short story that is in response to this book?
Okay, so another author wrote a short story that is a commentary on the first book. In the short story, the main character is a funeral director. A large part of his job is talking with the bereaved, being a sounding board for them, listening. Listening and being still, being... nothing.
You know how when you're selling your house you're supposed to leave it mostly empty, nice-looking but with as little of your own life as possible? It's supposed to have enough room for the potential buyer to be able to picture their own life in it, instead of yours. That's this guy. He has so little of himself, he has almost none of himself, so that he can be there for these bereaved individuals. As a result, on his own he is almost not there. Plastic, still, sticks out like a sore thumb visually (black suit, white shirt, black slicked hair, white face - a wax museum young Al Gore -and I like Al Gore!), and can sit in a chair 30 feet from a graveside service and nobody will see him there.
So, he watches. And he figures out that there's something wrong with the characters in the first book. He figures out that he can sit there at the funeral and watch them, and he'll figure out what's wrong. What wasn't said in the book. Something underlying, unspoken, unwritten. Something not quite right.
This is where my dream shifts. Mom and Paul and Donna and me, we are no longer in the dream. Instead, the major character is the author of the short story, but with a narrator. This is like a third story, a story about the writer of the story that was written about the book.
And he is Bill Cameron, author of Lost Dog.
And the short story comes out, and it creates quite a stir, being essentially a whole new take on the original book that was so well-received. Remember Rosencrantz & Guidenstern? It's a little like that.
In the middle of the night, the short story author gets a phonecall from a fan. The fan wants to "interview" him about the story. The line is breaking up quite a bit, but the author, tiredly, is determined to see this through, to play the author role. And the "fan" is a grinning, maniacal, corpse.
Yes, I said corpse. Think back. Didn't I start this post by saying I was spooked?
Flesh rotting on bones, corpse. Grinning. On the phone.
That's it. I don't know what happens next. But I don't think it can be good for Bill.
Had a doozy of a dream tonight, starting with a chat with my Mom, Paul, and Aunt Donna, a literary analysis type of chat (because who doesn't have those?) about a specific book.
In the book, a man grows old and ultimately dies. He has a rich social circle, but he has a keen desire to pass something on to a direct heir. Unfortunately, his immediate family -especially, his son- go before him. As the story progresses, he winds up with his only "descendant" being the girlfriend of his son, a woman he never approved of, but late in his life, comes to respect and love. She is his posterity.
There are visuals, so I pictured Mom and Paul and Donna, the ice and... Calvados?... in our glasses, the printed words on paper, the old man -can't quite place him, but know him- and his "daughter," who is played by Helen Mirren. I've been a fan of hers since 2010 and that stupid pen fiasco, so don't go all The Queen on me.
Well, Donna wants to know, have I read the short story that is in response to this book?
Okay, so another author wrote a short story that is a commentary on the first book. In the short story, the main character is a funeral director. A large part of his job is talking with the bereaved, being a sounding board for them, listening. Listening and being still, being... nothing.
You know how when you're selling your house you're supposed to leave it mostly empty, nice-looking but with as little of your own life as possible? It's supposed to have enough room for the potential buyer to be able to picture their own life in it, instead of yours. That's this guy. He has so little of himself, he has almost none of himself, so that he can be there for these bereaved individuals. As a result, on his own he is almost not there. Plastic, still, sticks out like a sore thumb visually (black suit, white shirt, black slicked hair, white face - a wax museum young Al Gore -and I like Al Gore!), and can sit in a chair 30 feet from a graveside service and nobody will see him there.
So, he watches. And he figures out that there's something wrong with the characters in the first book. He figures out that he can sit there at the funeral and watch them, and he'll figure out what's wrong. What wasn't said in the book. Something underlying, unspoken, unwritten. Something not quite right.
This is where my dream shifts. Mom and Paul and Donna and me, we are no longer in the dream. Instead, the major character is the author of the short story, but with a narrator. This is like a third story, a story about the writer of the story that was written about the book.
And he is Bill Cameron, author of Lost Dog.
And the short story comes out, and it creates quite a stir, being essentially a whole new take on the original book that was so well-received. Remember Rosencrantz & Guidenstern? It's a little like that.
In the middle of the night, the short story author gets a phonecall from a fan. The fan wants to "interview" him about the story. The line is breaking up quite a bit, but the author, tiredly, is determined to see this through, to play the author role. And the "fan" is a grinning, maniacal, corpse.
Yes, I said corpse. Think back. Didn't I start this post by saying I was spooked?
Flesh rotting on bones, corpse. Grinning. On the phone.
That's it. I don't know what happens next. But I don't think it can be good for Bill.
Monday, March 26, 2007
A Taxing Woman
Apparently, I was wrong. The connection between God's creation of the world and Donald Rumsfeld is even closer than I thought. God made the world in six days. Six! On the seventh day, that slacker-loser-bedwetter rested.
If he had actually worked on the seventh day... he would have had to pay taxes.
So here I am, doing our taxes. I spent all day Sunday on our taxes for 2006. Very interesting stuff, as you can imagine. Everything about Georgia, as usual, is stupid. I'd done our federal taxes, and then I turned to the Georgia form, and it's little things, you know? Like the fact that they've now managed somehow to hire somebody who can build a fillable PDF form, but you can't save the form with data in it, and some hidden codes cause several of the number fields to be replaced with big, black, plus signs when you go to print. Given last year's fiasco (Georgia said we didn't pay and therefore owed them several thousand dollars, even though we had our little receipt and everything), I am unwilling to trust our fate to some big, black, plus signs. And the envelope tore when I tried to get it out of the booklet. And the address label is bigger than the space alotted to it. And it's next to impossible to figure out their schedules, or tell when they're referring to federal forms versus state forms.
I finally got the damn tax envelopes out to the curb, and I came back in and did a little work, and then it came time for...
...wait for it...
2007 taxes.
Yes, welcome to self-employment. I must now estimate my tax burden and pay taxes on a quarterly basis. To do so, I must essentially... do my 2007 taxes now, with made-up numbers. I'll have business deductions, and income from several different sources. When you boil it all down, in order to figure out what to pay to the government in the next few weeks (1st quarter), I have to do taxes all over again, only today's taxes are more complicated than yesterday's taxes. How is an honest sole proprieter supposed to make any money, when she spends all her time doing taxes?
If he had actually worked on the seventh day... he would have had to pay taxes.
So here I am, doing our taxes. I spent all day Sunday on our taxes for 2006. Very interesting stuff, as you can imagine. Everything about Georgia, as usual, is stupid. I'd done our federal taxes, and then I turned to the Georgia form, and it's little things, you know? Like the fact that they've now managed somehow to hire somebody who can build a fillable PDF form, but you can't save the form with data in it, and some hidden codes cause several of the number fields to be replaced with big, black, plus signs when you go to print. Given last year's fiasco (Georgia said we didn't pay and therefore owed them several thousand dollars, even though we had our little receipt and everything), I am unwilling to trust our fate to some big, black, plus signs. And the envelope tore when I tried to get it out of the booklet. And the address label is bigger than the space alotted to it. And it's next to impossible to figure out their schedules, or tell when they're referring to federal forms versus state forms.
I finally got the damn tax envelopes out to the curb, and I came back in and did a little work, and then it came time for...
...wait for it...
2007 taxes.
Yes, welcome to self-employment. I must now estimate my tax burden and pay taxes on a quarterly basis. To do so, I must essentially... do my 2007 taxes now, with made-up numbers. I'll have business deductions, and income from several different sources. When you boil it all down, in order to figure out what to pay to the government in the next few weeks (1st quarter), I have to do taxes all over again, only today's taxes are more complicated than yesterday's taxes. How is an honest sole proprieter supposed to make any money, when she spends all her time doing taxes?
Friday, March 23, 2007
What's the big deal? Apple, Obama, and cancers for president
I've now read and heard several news reports on the YouTube Obama-for-president ad, modeled after a 1984 Macintosh ad. And I have to say, I'm disappointed in the reporters. Across the board, they've been expressing excitement over the amazing things people can do with a computer in a living room at home.
If you search YouTube, you can watch not only the Obama ad, but also the original Macintosh ad. And what's the difference? Hilary Clinton's face plastered over the screen image. Not even top quality. Her image is degraded -a common technique for handling the fact that you are using a borrowed image to begin with- to look like a bad video signal.
If I've had one disappointment about the Obama campaign thus far, it's been that he is quoted as saying his staff don't have the capability of doing something like this. The fact is, they probably do. It's just not that hard.
On the up side (as an Obama supporter, which tentatively I am), if the media response is to be considered at all representative, I am not your usual audience and it shouldn't be a problem for the campaign.
Meanwhile, the media is freaking out over John Edwards and his wife's cancer. Now, I applaud their apparent sympathy. But they seem to be eager to cast this cancer as a campaign weakness, and I admit I'm sitting here thinking, "what gives?"
The man is putting a whole lot of his campaign eggs in the health insurance basket. And his wife has cancer. I may be cruel and heartless, but it seems to me that this can only help his campaign. He either understands what real people face (true: His wife has cancer; also true: They don't have to worry about the expense of health care), or by his campaign platform, he understands that others don't have the benefits that he and his wife enjoy (true: They don't have to worry about the expense of health care, but he is campaigning for universal health care).
Either way, it looks pretty good. I fail to see how it is a liability. What, because he might not have a glowing blond wife at his side in every picture? Give me a break! That only makes him that much more desireable to hetero female voters. Rock stars always get more when their wives are absent.
Cynical? Moi?
If you search YouTube, you can watch not only the Obama ad, but also the original Macintosh ad. And what's the difference? Hilary Clinton's face plastered over the screen image. Not even top quality. Her image is degraded -a common technique for handling the fact that you are using a borrowed image to begin with- to look like a bad video signal.
If I've had one disappointment about the Obama campaign thus far, it's been that he is quoted as saying his staff don't have the capability of doing something like this. The fact is, they probably do. It's just not that hard.
On the up side (as an Obama supporter, which tentatively I am), if the media response is to be considered at all representative, I am not your usual audience and it shouldn't be a problem for the campaign.
Meanwhile, the media is freaking out over John Edwards and his wife's cancer. Now, I applaud their apparent sympathy. But they seem to be eager to cast this cancer as a campaign weakness, and I admit I'm sitting here thinking, "what gives?"
The man is putting a whole lot of his campaign eggs in the health insurance basket. And his wife has cancer. I may be cruel and heartless, but it seems to me that this can only help his campaign. He either understands what real people face (true: His wife has cancer; also true: They don't have to worry about the expense of health care), or by his campaign platform, he understands that others don't have the benefits that he and his wife enjoy (true: They don't have to worry about the expense of health care, but he is campaigning for universal health care).
Either way, it looks pretty good. I fail to see how it is a liability. What, because he might not have a glowing blond wife at his side in every picture? Give me a break! That only makes him that much more desireable to hetero female voters. Rock stars always get more when their wives are absent.
Cynical? Moi?
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Video is such a pain in the neck
I pulled a muscle in my back or neck early this morning. The most painful thing I can do is look sharply to my right. Naturally, there is a window to my right, and interesting noises. If I have the impulse to look, and force myself to stay still, my muscles clench just as if I did look. Either way, ouch.
Meanwhile, I just saw something interesting on the Daily Show with Jon Stewart. Yes I am working. I just took a little break, I swear.
The show played a clip of Donald Rumseld at the start of the Iraq war. He was telling the press that the operation would take maybe six days, maybe six weeks, but "I doubt" six months.
Now, this is a pretty painful video for all to see, but it speaks to a long-running controversy, much older than the Iraq war or the silly old United States. How about them seven days and seven nights, people? You know, when God made the world?
Plenty of people have proposed theories about the time period in which God made the world, in an effort to explain how we've got all this what is it called... EVIDENCE of a world much older than suggested in the Bible. Maybe a day for God is a really, really long time.
But watching Rumseld today, I realized the truth. God said he'd do it in seven days. The work turned out to take longer. But just like Rummy, God is remembered for his bad estimate.
Meanwhile, I just saw something interesting on the Daily Show with Jon Stewart. Yes I am working. I just took a little break, I swear.
The show played a clip of Donald Rumseld at the start of the Iraq war. He was telling the press that the operation would take maybe six days, maybe six weeks, but "I doubt" six months.
Now, this is a pretty painful video for all to see, but it speaks to a long-running controversy, much older than the Iraq war or the silly old United States. How about them seven days and seven nights, people? You know, when God made the world?
Plenty of people have proposed theories about the time period in which God made the world, in an effort to explain how we've got all this what is it called... EVIDENCE of a world much older than suggested in the Bible. Maybe a day for God is a really, really long time.
But watching Rumseld today, I realized the truth. God said he'd do it in seven days. The work turned out to take longer. But just like Rummy, God is remembered for his bad estimate.
Saturday, March 17, 2007
Listening
Just now, I was listening to a class presentation for my online class. Interestingly, the topic was "listening."
A week or so ago, I'd bought a new screen door for our house. The house came with a glass door instead, and we like to get some fresh air moving through, so a screen door has been something we've looked forward to. Finally, I went out with Luther and Wil and bought a door. Luther put it up, and then apologized for taking my project over. Oh for goodness sake, it's high time I took the lead and DID the project if I want to keep it to myself, eh? But thank you, Luther.
Today, Luther and Wil were shaving a little wood off the door, so it fits right. They were using the power saw. I'm good with the power saw. I like using it, but I do have a little trouble watching or listening to Luther use it. He is methodical, careful, and mechanically-inclined... and I am imaginative and in love with him. You do the math.
While you're add it, add the following: An inexperienced, non-mechanical, non-participatory, often inept, teenager. Don't forget the power saw.
So while I was listening to my presentation about listening, I had to consciously put Luther and Wil and the noise of the power saw out of my head. I had to focus my listening on the presentation, give it due attention, and put all that other stuff aside. It is amazing under such conditions how freakishly alarming it can be when someone suddenly shouts loud enough to filter through.
*SHOUT* Suddenly, brain reminds bekbek that there is a power saw, and a Luther, and an inexperienced teenager. Auto-feed the images of dismemberment.
So I have learned an important lesson about listening, while listening to my presentation on listening: If you're going to risk a heart attack in your attempt to put the nice, weekend sounds of a project in progress out of your mind... maybe it'd be better to just hang out down there, roll your eyes at the process, and do your homework later.
That is all.
A week or so ago, I'd bought a new screen door for our house. The house came with a glass door instead, and we like to get some fresh air moving through, so a screen door has been something we've looked forward to. Finally, I went out with Luther and Wil and bought a door. Luther put it up, and then apologized for taking my project over. Oh for goodness sake, it's high time I took the lead and DID the project if I want to keep it to myself, eh? But thank you, Luther.
Today, Luther and Wil were shaving a little wood off the door, so it fits right. They were using the power saw. I'm good with the power saw. I like using it, but I do have a little trouble watching or listening to Luther use it. He is methodical, careful, and mechanically-inclined... and I am imaginative and in love with him. You do the math.
While you're add it, add the following: An inexperienced, non-mechanical, non-participatory, often inept, teenager. Don't forget the power saw.
So while I was listening to my presentation about listening, I had to consciously put Luther and Wil and the noise of the power saw out of my head. I had to focus my listening on the presentation, give it due attention, and put all that other stuff aside. It is amazing under such conditions how freakishly alarming it can be when someone suddenly shouts loud enough to filter through.
*SHOUT* Suddenly, brain reminds bekbek that there is a power saw, and a Luther, and an inexperienced teenager. Auto-feed the images of dismemberment.
So I have learned an important lesson about listening, while listening to my presentation on listening: If you're going to risk a heart attack in your attempt to put the nice, weekend sounds of a project in progress out of your mind... maybe it'd be better to just hang out down there, roll your eyes at the process, and do your homework later.
That is all.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
The budding photographer (not so much)
Things you should always look for in a new camera:
1. Some kind of tripod mounting hardware. Our digital camera from Kodak has none.
2. A button lock, like on any common CD player, that prevents the camera from being accidentally turned on while jostling around in your bag. Our digital camera from Kodak... has none.
So this morning I lay back down on our bed and looked up and back at the trees and sky we can see because our pillows are at the five-foot-wide window, and I put the camera up so I could take a picture for all of you... and the camera was dead. Batteries had been used up, yet again.
I wanted to show you the pretty pink morning light on the tiny, fresh green leaves that are sprouting from the branches. Yes, bright green leaflets lit by warm morning sunshine against a gorgeous blue sky.
I probably wouldn't have got around to uploading the picture in any case. Our digital camera from Kodak also did not come with an upload cable that connects to any of the ports on my Dell.
Realistically, I should just skip stills and move directly to video. The squirrels in our back yard have a habit of sitting on fire ants, and then they do an incredible dance, oh boy. Plus, apparently the middle of a fire ant dance is the right time to start playing with an inch-thick, foot-long stick. Yes, fire ant bedeviled squirrel tosses stick in air...
...and catches it!
It is now spring. Enjoy!
1. Some kind of tripod mounting hardware. Our digital camera from Kodak has none.
2. A button lock, like on any common CD player, that prevents the camera from being accidentally turned on while jostling around in your bag. Our digital camera from Kodak... has none.
So this morning I lay back down on our bed and looked up and back at the trees and sky we can see because our pillows are at the five-foot-wide window, and I put the camera up so I could take a picture for all of you... and the camera was dead. Batteries had been used up, yet again.
I wanted to show you the pretty pink morning light on the tiny, fresh green leaves that are sprouting from the branches. Yes, bright green leaflets lit by warm morning sunshine against a gorgeous blue sky.
I probably wouldn't have got around to uploading the picture in any case. Our digital camera from Kodak also did not come with an upload cable that connects to any of the ports on my Dell.
Realistically, I should just skip stills and move directly to video. The squirrels in our back yard have a habit of sitting on fire ants, and then they do an incredible dance, oh boy. Plus, apparently the middle of a fire ant dance is the right time to start playing with an inch-thick, foot-long stick. Yes, fire ant bedeviled squirrel tosses stick in air...
...and catches it!
It is now spring. Enjoy!
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