Rand McNally: Plan a road trip.
The recent past
Last night, I finished reading that long, long, long inside special piece on our recent presidential election that Newsweek published this week. I didn’t get a formal word count, but I estimate it is about 50,000 words long.
I came away with two new things from the piece. First, the unflappable demeanor which President-elect Obama displayed during the campaign is a very deep seated personality trait. Second, the peculiar, irrational direction changes displayed by the McCain campaign clearly reflect a poor excercise in leadership skills on the part of Senator McCain.
Each of these observations were uninformed opions of mine prior to the piece’s publication. It was interesting to read of specific moments in the piece which upheld these views.
Indiana votes Obama
I made and posted this ‘shop shot on MFT not quite a month ago. I am gratified.
Jesse wept.
On this moving night, one which challenges my deep-seated cynicism and negativity, the psychological moment of the evening that most engages me is encapsulated in the tears of Jesse Jackson in Grant Park. I wanted nothing more than to grasp him and hold him in sympathy, in recognition of the transparency and complexity of his emotion.
Xombies
Exene stumbled fitfully toward John, who had a hard time handling the bass.
Billy’s grin seemed unusually wide. DJ’s skinpounding seemed fragile, on this night. The band forgot lyrics, skipped bridges, generally seemed out of things, distracted, a shadow of their former selves.
Then the cops arrived.
(Originally written as a part of NaDruWriNi 2004.)
what
Fellow MeFite and undeclared internet lingo pope Languagehat semi-recently posted on an internet-only coinage, the undeclaimed and unpunctuated use of the word
what
on a line by itself in comment threads. Generally speaking, the usage connotes an unemotive but nonplussed response to novel stimuli. Something like your grandmother processing the concept of trepanation, or your parents’ response to your announcement of your impending polyamorous marriage.
Looking over my email and blog posts, it’s clear that I have now been a homeowner for three years. My emotional response to this has only ever been at best
what
.
It remains so. I seem to be less actively angry about it, something which I put down to my being now three years closer to the end of my life.
Honestly, how do you people DO it? Engaging in casual conversation at social gatherings, I casually ask my fellow homeowners, for example, “Do you suddenly sit up in the dark watches, drenched in cold sweat, certain that a flamethrowing tank approaches your doors due to your inattentive mortgage payments?”
Apparently they don’t. My whole life, well-meaning and deeply ignorant fools have repeatedly told me that I am not like other people, that I am different, and (I especially loathe the ignorant selfish inaccuracy of this part) that they love me for that. It seems that this observation, which I have hated as long as i have heard it, is in fact true. I am different.
Anyway, three years in, I hate this as much as I did on day one. With luck, that ulcer will just eat me away from the inside and I will never even know I’m dead. Happy Halloween, kids! Come by our house and I swear, I will scare you so badly you will never leave home again.
And stay off my lawn!
Hard
I have had some hard days lately. Today is one, no doubt. October becomes November with agonizing deliberation this year.
Goo
LOVING World of Goo. If Tim Burton and Dr Seuss had been admirers of Lemmings, This might be something they could have made.
It reminds me of Oddworld, to an extent, and also the Neverhood, my favorite ’90s computer game. Less in the particulars than the feel with respect to Neverhood, I guess.
Forgetful
When I woke up this morning, I felt very sad, but did not remember why for a minute or two. It was odd – the sadness was a distinct, physical feeling, which for a few moments was disconnected from anything I could hook it up to in memory.
Trumpeter
My ex-bandmate Karel apparently died yesterday. It’s sad news.
Here is a portrait I took for a demo cover back in 2001. He was wearing his guitar – you can see the strap on his shoulder.