For all your impeachment needs-CensureBush.org.

I may manage to escape unscathed and unfired from my little escapade. We'll see. Reports later. Happy New Year.

New Year's Resolution

I've done a lot of things in my short years. Traveled the world, worked on a campaign for National office, interned for a magazine; have I ever bought a plane ticket for New Year's Eve with the full knowledge that making the flight means losing my job? Not before today, but there's a first time for everything. I'll be in New York from the 31st till the 4th. Work? Who needs it? I have a birthday party to attend. Besides, the boy I'm in Minneapolis for is gone until the 14th-how can I make do? I clearly can't-expect NYC blog posts around the 1st. Happy Fucking New Year!

Merry Christmas

I'm off to the homeland to see the family late this evening, after another long day of work. I'm being stalked by a gay stockbroker at work. If he doesn't start buying things, I'm calling security. In the Christmas spirit, I found this article about Pete Doherty to be funny(Merry Christmas Christine!). Nothing like the promises of a totally batty junkie rockstar to brighten the holidays.

How to make yourself an easier target

In the beginning of 2004, Wisconsin's Attorney General was arrested for drunk driving. Now, at the end of 2005, she faces a stiff primary challenge(which I don't understand for two reasons-1. she's not the first AG to do this, and 2. There aren't a whole lot of women in politics in WI, and this race will end up screwing the career of whoever loses, meaning no matter what the outcome, we lose at least one of our best women). Peg(the AG)is getting her fundraising shit together and having a holiday party...at a bar.

???

Cassandra Maybe, but not that vapid bitch

I just want to comment on Elephant's most recent post: I appreciate the sentiment, my love, and I too sacrifice to our fair love goddess, but I must emphasize that I am not, repeat, am NOT, as worthless and inactive as Helen. I'm not helpless, for God's sake.

And Liliana, a hint: he's awfully fond of gifts. Large ones. Like horses, or maybe Trojan elephants?

If Robin Lovitt had been on Death Row in a state with a Republican governor with presidential ambitions, I doubt he'd have been so lucky. No quibbling over the reasons, right, Liliana?

Yeah yeah, I've been gone for a while. I'm not dead or anything, but Thanksgiving found me in Maryland doing my best not to embarrass myself in front of the in-laws, and now I have a crazy work schedule and no wireless at my apartment.

I'm glad to see that in my absence, the Maoists are still keeping it real. I really wish we heard more dispatches from Nepal. I still regret not studying abroad there(revolution, schmevolution, to paraphrase a friend, just knowing the Himalayas exist makes whatever happens in my life okay).

Also, lets keep the threats in the comments to a minimum. There's only five of you, so play nice. I'll get to everything when I have the luxury of time to play with the blog again.

Lessons

I learned new things this weekend. Here's a brief list:

1. I don't hate my retail job. I actually kind of like it.

1(a) Coach bags are overpriced.
1(b) People who buy Coach bags "because they forgot their evening bag" are out of touch with reality.

2. Food poisoning sucks. A lot.

3. If Brett Favre played for the Redskins, they wouldn't be 5-4.

If you refer to number 2, you'll understand why I was thinking about number 3.

Why working in a huge department store is bad

You're surrounded by so much stuff, so many items, that you forget to put your favorite ring(purchased years ago in another country) back on when you're done washing your hands in the bathroom.

:(

:(

:(

Now my day doesn't seem so good...

Lemmy Says, "Only Lemmings Use Drugs"

That's right, the frontman for Motorhead went to speak to Welsh Parliament to offer his services as a "Headbanging-My antidrug" shill.

Personally I'm in favor of any anti-drug campaign that takes the "it's not all drugs, just smack" position in trying to keep the easily influenced young ones out of trouble. Lemmy seems like the parent that says, "I don't mind if you do it, just as long as you're in the house,...and you share."

I pity the youth of Wales, although now I sure would love to hear Ace of Spades...

Halloween, an addendum

I didn't even notice the penis. How blind I've become!

News, or something like it

Without a wireless router in my house, I might have gone all day without seeing this, truly a sign of the apocalypse. Aaron Brown may be responsible for the strangest bit of news anchoring I've ever seen(following the massive anti-war protests in 2003), but he doesn't deserve to be so abused by CNN. Jonathan Klein is a true moron-why else would he subject the public to THREE HOURS of Wolf Blitzer and then force them to deal with Larry King? I remember when CNN was good, when it actually gave me information, but that was a long time ago. It's sad how quickly it crumbled. As if this is any surprise to anyone. It's still sad...

I'm sure Gawker's covered this like crazy already, but, as I said, I have greatly reduced access to internet. The new job will take me away from computers for hours at a time! I lost yesterday to corporate retail training(do they stop treating you like a retarded monkey at some point, or are you supposed to not notice?), so I'm really out of it. Did I miss anything?

Halloween 2005: Not too hot for penguins

Everyone loves penguins!Another dispatch from the Sister, this time from the storied blocks of State Street during the Halloween festivities(100,000 people in six blocks and fewer than 300 arrested-I call that a triumph!).

Christmas comes early

How else to explain this and this happening at the same time? The only thing that would have been better is actual indictments, but Santa never brings the pony like you want. I love that the Administration has been so adamant about producing documents(although it's hardly a new thing), and made a lame attempt to blame this fiasco on unreasonable Congressional requests. And the polling numbers!

It's not all lollipops and unicorns. While I really, really hope these abysmal approval ratings, indictments, and catastrophic failures carry over in the public mind to the 2006 election, all of this was in place long before November 2004. As happy as I am that there is finally comeuppance, it stings a little too. We shouldn't have to be happy with such petty vengeance, laughing at Fitzgerald's masterful leak strategy. We should have been able to beat these guys a year ago(almost exactly, which hurts too). It'll be a victory to see Karl Rove and Scooter Libby indicted, but it'll be 360 days late and 2 bosses short.

While we're on the bittersweet, it looks like the legitimate media will not be giving the starving public the hot British interview action they were hoping for. Never fear, for the independent press(read: me) will soldier on and bring it to the masses, free of substance-crushing cuts and a dignity eroding editing process.

Come to think of it, that publicity photo of Miers reminds me of someone. There's a...fossilized quality to her that is just so familiar...

Something in the Air, maybe?

I had a really creepy dream last night where I was the victim of workplace sexual harrassment...by Nicholas Kristof.

???

Snapshot

Picture this: I'm walking down a tree-lined street, watching scarlet leaves fall to the ground, pulling a 70 pound rolling suitcase. Who said moving isn't an adventure?

Success!

At long last, my day of triumph has arrived-I finished the Sunday Crossword. And I found a short term job and found a place to live. It's a little embarrassing how uninspired I've been of late; I promise things will improve shortly.

Too bad you can't blame them for gas prices, huh?

To the residents of Loyal, WI: Be thankful you're dodging horseshit and not bullets aimed at your back. There are worse disputes over cultural differences, that's all I'm saying.

Jim's Journal, Minneapolis Style

I went to the bus stop and waited for the bus to come. It did, but the bus driver didn't stop for me. That made me sad.

Congrats, Showoff

Come on, Eric, you're making us all look bad!

Seriously though, well done. The people of Minneapolis are not safe-I'm going to wander the streets shoving this in the face of each and ever person I see, shouting, "That's my friend!"

Keep fighting the power.

A New Plan

Resolved: From now on I will only make noodles by cooking the entire bag and then mixing them with an entire stick of butter. Best. Thing. Ever.

Huh?

I've had a confusing couple of days. Last night I engaged in religious activity for the first time in nearly a year, and it wasn't even my religion(such as I sort-of-almost have one), and today I checked my hometown newspaper's website and discovered something strange happening in the column of my mentor, John Nichols-he speaks well of Representative Mark Green. I'm all for respecting people who have different opinions, but Mark Green? Mark Green? I'm glad that the column was about Green's need to deal honestly with campaign funds; overall, the content of the column was good. It's just this one tiny bit-

My sense has always been that, while I might disagree with him on many issues, I could respect Mark Green. And I even entertained the notion that he might have some of the qualities Wisconsinites ought to look for in a governor.

What qualities are those, John? Please, tell me. The qualities that make him oppose a woman's right to choose? The qualities that make him such a fan of Faith Based Initiatives? That led him to suport Bush's absurd tax cuts? I'm confused. I know that Jim Doyle is a slimy, spineless, power hungry, miserable man without principle or ideals, but Mark Green is a right wing nutcase! Argh, now I'm all frustrated. At least I can eat(sorry sweetie).

Firebomb my innocence, why don't you?

Two more things-the person in the kitchen next door just CANNOT stop cleaning. It's starting to creep me out. Blood isn't that hard to get off linoleum...I mean...um.... More importantly, this whole UNICEF firebombing the Smurfs is as fucked up as anything gets. Thanks a lot, Wonkette. What's worse is there isn't even reliable video on the web to prove that some brilliant but sick bastard realized the most effective way to make Westerners feel bad was to mess with IMAGINARY societies. Smurfs are way cuter than legless and emaciated orphans, by a lot.

A little clarity

First things first-my Ls are getting a little randy in my comments, which was a lot of fun when I was unattached but now feels just a little bit dirty. For shame, ladies!

Second, I had my worried-over meeting this morning, and my favorite part was when I heard the words, "If I could hire you to start working today, I would." To sum up-I still have no job, but I definitely, absolutely will by the end of the year. And I get to pick what I want to do! It's not every day you get to choose your next career adventure. I should write one of those books. If you want to take the Communications Director job, turn to page 112. Might be fun.

Nothing has changed in the immediate sense, but I feel fantastic knowing that I've actually got something to look forward to(assuming the money people decide to fund us. Anyone know people who want to give a million or two to rural voter organizing? Please? Pretty please?)

Back to the short term job hunt. Then maybe a run(I know, crazy), then...PIZZA! Living in style!

I've officially written the whiteboards first words. Can you guess what they are?

"Welcome Home"

Thanks for the welcome, love.

I'm a big, jobless lump of domesticity at the moment(hardly something I ever thought I'd type), but so far things seem okay. I have my big "when oh when sir can I start working for you" meeting tomorrow morning, but other than that I am still unemployed and without the funds to rent an apartment. I've also not yet found one that looks pretty enough on the outside to get giddy about. I've been distracting myself by knitting and cleaning, so I (may) have officially lost my mind. I tell myself I'm frontloading my relaxation so that when I'm really busy right before the elections, I won't feel deprived of rest.

It only occurred to me this morning when I woke from the third or fourth anxiety filled dream about leaving New York that I might be feeling a little panicked, perhaps like I was a mite bit hasty in this move. Don't get me wrong-still the right thing, still excited about everything, about all the new life-related things to be done, the new life to build-but I miss New York and my small but devoted crew a whole lot more than I thought was possible. A lot more.

Enough navel-gazing for the evening. Hopefully my meeting tomorrow will clarify where I stand on the "get a life" continuum. Also, Ethan's white board finally came, so I'm looking forward to hours of fun. I'm hoping for Venn Diagrams.

Top 5 Things I'll Miss about New York(Even if I'm Coming Back)

5. Seeing the Statue of Liberty every time I go over the Manhattan Bridge on the Q train.
4. Prospect Park
3. The veiled contempt in the eyes of Met employees when you say "no donation."
2. The movies! (but not the cost of tickets or popcorn-highway robbery!)
1. My Girls

My last 24 hours in the city are counting down and begging to be enjoyed, and I apologize for the next few days of absense. Posts will resume when I have reacclimated to country mouse life.

Top 5 things I won't miss hearing outside my window

1. "Lookin' good/You fine/How you doin', Snowflake/Snow White/Snow Bunny/Princess/Light Skin!"
2. Firetrucks leaving the station around the corner between 12 and 6 AM
3. The dice game
4. The skull-rattling bass on awful hip hop music blasting out of cars that pull up to the bodega
5. The delivery trucks that seem to make deliveries only on mornings that I have a hangover.

Geek Love

I know that at least one of you out there has asked about it, so before I leave and become distracted by my real one, Boy Blogging returns. My subject today is hardly a household name, and he may never be one, but he has captained his little space ship on a course straight to nerdy, nerdy love. I like him better than Han Solo(yes, Liliana, I said it)-Nathan Fillion

Aside from his time on Two Guys and a Girl(the launching pad of another current B-movie favorite, ab-tastic Alanis Morrisette boy-toy Ryan Reynolds), Nathan's most memorable roles are all Joss Whedon-related. He played evil, evil priest Caleb during the last season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and now he's hanging out at a cinema near you in Serenity, a great sci-fi flick. Everyone should go see it so I can enjoy many more movies featuring those tight, tight pants. And because it's a good flick, but this is boy blogging, not a film review.

Tall, buff, and heroic without being boring(Riley Finn, anyone?), Fillion is incredibly charming on TV and the big screen, and deserves more work. I wish him a better, more varied future than Gen-Con appearances, but I'll take a few more years of him playing Malcom Reynolds if I have to.

A side-note on Serenity: All the male actors are way hotter than they were on television. Way buffer too(Simon? Um, wow.). It also still weirds me out that Jewel Staite found work after those couple episodes of Are You Afraid of the Dark. I miss SNICK.

As if the Supreme Court weren't enough

Killer dolphins are loose after Hurricane Katrina. Trained to shoot poison darts at divers. Need I say more?

Judge not lest ye be judged, except when you're on SCOTUS

My girls have already covered the jokes on Harriet Miers, and I can't bring myself to read anything about her. A Supreme Court Justice who has no judicial experience? A loyal follower of the administration? I think that Bush's speech writers should start thinking about the nickname they'll substitute for "Brownie."

"You're a real meercat on the bench, Miers," just doesn't sound quite right.

Propaganda = Bad

In case you didn't know, the GAO has officially denounced the administration-it's all here. At least someone employed by the government is doing his job. More to follow, but I'm drunk now, and this seemed like a good end to the evening. It's not often that good news precedes bedtime.

Scratching the rash decisions

It occurred to me a moment ago that it's going to be a challenge to look for an apartment in Minneapolis when I don't know a single thing about the city except my boyfriend's address. It also occurred to me that I might have decided everything without thinking very hard about practicalities.

Oops.

Too late, it's done now, and I'm leaving next Saturday for icier pastures. What am I going to do? Where am I going to live? How will I possibly survive without destroying my relationship, rendering the entire move pointless? I'm not so sure I have answers to any of those, but I have faith that I can figure it out. I mean, faith is a fact! Wait, maybe that was the blooper reel...

Urge to participate in democracy rising...

Why, Russ, why? You...are...just...so...wrong! All of your ideological and geographical compatriots were smart enough to vote no. Obama, Durbin, Harkin, Dayton, Stabenow; All four Sentators from California and Maryland voted right-WHAT'S YOUR PROBLEM MAN!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!?

First Ashcroft and now this. You realize voting for this douche isn't going to obscure the divorce in your doomed presidential bid, right?

I'm fighting the urge to make angry phone calls to both you and Kohl. I expected it from him, but you? I'm so disappointed...

Marylanders, you should call your Senators and say nice things to them. Lucky bastards.

It's come to this.

My roommate is off surfing, my couch surfer is working, and I'm sitting in front of my computer at noon on a Thursday eating dry cereal in my pajamas. It is Thursday, right? I'm so uninspired I don't even know what day it is. I can't even blog about boys! I need to get a job...

The Last Straw

So the place that I didn't really like all that much and never quite put my all into laid me off yesterday, and on top of it all they "can't" pay me for another 10 days or so. The whole "rent is due on the 1st" thing doesn't seem to register. I've officially crossed the threshold. For all the times I've spoken of it without really explaining, here it finally is: I'm moving to Minneapolis to be closer to the boyfriend, and now that there's nothing keeping me here, I'm doing it in just a little less than two weeks. TOD will continue, but please be forgiving while I pack and move. Things are sure to be a bit hectic.

UPDATE: How fucking wacko is it that it's CHEAPER to stay in New York than to move to Minneapolis? When has that ever happened in the history of mankind? I just want to go back to the midwest, and I can't. This fucking sucks.

If you have to ask, you're not invited...

Submitting writing samples with your resume blows just a little bit. It gives you another opportunity to think about all the kick ass articles you ballsed up somehow that you can't send in. I also hate cover letters. In my opinion, if you actually have to worry about what your cover letter says, you're probably not well-connected enough to get the job, so you should chill out about how it distinguishes you from the 9,000 other "candidates" for whatever you're applying for. Who hires based on merit these days anyway? Then again, I've been pretty fortuate on this front, so I guess I'm half-ranting, half-self-congratulating about avoiding actually competing for jobs.

This one is out of my hands now, thank goodness. Now only time will tell if I'm geeky enough for public radio. It'd be sweet if I am, but I'm just a poor imitation of ubergeek Little Sis.

Cleaning

I'm on a rampage. My drawers are clean, I've got a bag full of stuff to get rid of, the piles of paper are almost non-existent, and I'm ready to start hand-washing some of my more sensitive clothes. Where did this sudden burst of energy come from? Who knows? I think I've done enough for one day; how will I fill the next two weeks if I do it all now?

Distractions

This knitting thing went a lot faster when I didn't have to follow a pattern. My inability to memorize the damn thing is slowing me down too. That and how easily distracted I am. There are a lot of effective time killers out there, from my newfound craftiness to cleaning up my bedroom in anticipation of the big move to showing my long-term houseguest around the city(today is Roosevelt Island day-Liliana, I'm spreading the gospel!). It's really too bad that the things I'm avoiding are the cover letter for a job in Minneapolis that I might love and doing the work that will fund the move. My other favorite is list making-right now I'm working on "Reasons to Use my Return Flight." I'm still on #1. Any ideas? Anybody? Bueller? That's what I thought.

In case you were wondering, I'm also a wee bit uninspired on the writing front. It might get worse before it gets better; sorry. In the meantime, enjoy this quote from my great-aunt, one of the most talkative people I've ever met:

I don't think he looked much like President Bush-he looked like Ricardo Montalban!

That'd be a much more interesting president to have, don't you agree?

Old Haunts

I'm back at our beloved Nation today and tomorrow, a time that seems too short for how much I love it and a little too long when I think about how embarrassingly little I've done since leaving for what I thought was the last time in June. I see two other former Katrina interns here right now. That sight alone makes me happy to be leaving New York for prospects less Nation-dependent. I'm sure it's great work and all, but you have to cut the cord sometime...(Liliana, I'm glad you're out of here, although I do wish you and Lauren were here to distract me). Up next on my latest nostalgia tour-Zen Palate and some Sesame Medallions.

Flashback

Rich teenage girls are wasting their parents' money by going to Ivy League schools with the intention of being stay at home moms. Is this a surprise? Only if you've been hiding under a rock. I had been thinking about writing about this "new" trend, but my laziness means that the Times got there first. This isn't rocket science-after watching many of our mothers approach the adult diaper years while still having to work before we're even done with undergrad, having kids at a younger age at the expense of career advancement does seem just a little bit more appealing than those monster gauge in vitro fertilization needles.

This is not to say that I think we should all embrace a return to the home as the future of the women's movement. Being a stay at home mom(or dad) is really only fun if you have enough money to hire someone to do the dirty work for you. I'm sure it's a blast to hang out with the kids all day, shuttling them from playdate to baby music classes to soccer practice when you've got a Nicaraguan immigrant doing your cooking and cleaning.

I don't want anyone to think that I really believe that it's a good thing that so many young women are so flippant about the importance of a career to overall satisfaction with one's life. I am, in my own way, one of these girls. My mother stayed home with my sister and me and did all the icky household stuff, and she's always said that she's glad she did it. She also tells me she always knew she just wasn't a good enough multi-tasker to have a job and raise kids and manage to do both to her (admirable but unreasonably high) standards. I'm lucky to have grown up in a part of the country that made it possible for the four people in my family to survive on one state bureaucracy salary. It was a huge luxury to know that my mom would be around when I was done with school and that, unless it was summer golf-league Wednesday, my father would walk through our front door by 5:30 every night. This anachronistic security was great because I walked away knowing that the way to make things work better is not by making more money or having two full time career hounds or a total return to 1950's labor division. A return to slightly more "traditional" family setups might actually work if BOTH people made sacrifices, which seems to be exactly what these girls aren't looking for.

This article, much more interestingly, lays bare exactly how dumb today's youth is. Observe:

"I accept things how they are," she said. "I don't mind the status quo. I don't see why I have to go against it."

After all, she added, those roles got her where she is.

"It worked so well for me," she said, "and I don't see in my life why it wouldn't work."

There are no words. I take that back. I do have some words, and a suggestion for these women-Thalidomide vaccines. Wave of the future. Make your kids smarter and many times more special. Maybe even up to four times more special.

Resolved

I think I've contracted some sort of terrible illness. I can't stop thinking about ways to improve myself. Is acting like a grown-up contagious? Could it be sexually transmitted? Ethan, is this your fault? As I contemplate ,I'm going to go back to knitting. Also, I've decided to cut down on the drinking-maybe even cut it out.

I finally heard back from my editor about the interview. She's editing it now, so it should be up soon. Another byline-Yay!

Back to thinking about furniture...

But on a Tuesday?

Because I don't have enough to occupy my time right now, I went out last night and am now regretting it terribly. My head hurts, so instead of working I'm trolling Craigslist Minneapolis and imagining how cute my things would look in some of the apartments. Liliana and Lauren, I know that you're busy fact-checking right now, but without your bloggery to distract me all I think about is moving! It's all I can do to keep myself from buying a ticket that leaves tomorrow! I think I need another intervention...

Curses!

Why must that tiny orange "T" thwart me so? Why? I hate you New York Times! You broke my heart! I'm TimesSelecting a new homepage! It's over!

A Follow Up Question for Joe McIllhaney Jr.

It's not really news, but teenagers are on their knees in equal numbers for purposes other than praying. It's actually quite reassuring to see that boys do more than just receive nowadays. One reaction to the study leaves me a bit confused.

Joe McIllhaney Jr., chairman of the Medical Institute for Sexual Health, said the new data confirm trends he has seen as a physician, but he has doubts about some of Wagoner's conclusions. "I question how much girls enjoy" oral sex, he said."I'd like to know a whole lot more about the pressure boys put on girls."

Mr. McIllhaney, your organization seems legitimate and not conservative, so I have to ask-why wouldn't girls enjoy oral sex? What on earth are you talking about? Please! Explain!

Who Could Forget This Guy?

With a name like Jack Noseworthy, you'd be hardpressed to do it. I was walking down the street yesterday, trying to find a radio station that would pump one or two good songs into my headphones, and I stumbled upon Bon Jovi's "Bed of Roses," from that mid-90s period of big ballads with music videos that told a "serious story." Two things occurred to me; one, "Bed of Roses" starts with the line "I wake up and french kiss the morning," and that's gross; two, I started wondering what happened to the stars of Bon Jovi's OTHER massive mid-90s power ballad, "Always." The girl was Carla Gugino, who most recently watched Elijah Wood eat her hand in Sin City, but what of the guy? I had hazy memories of an MTV show, but only an IMDB search could reveal the name(he was on Dead at 21!). That show was the only live action one I remember from that period where they played all the kick-ass cartoons like Aeon Flux and The Head.

The other thing I remembered about Mr. Noseworthy is that my 12 year old self thought he was really, really ugly. Now I think I was too hard on the poor guy. Besides, in the last 11 years I've grown up and moved forward, and his last big movie was Undercover Brother. I wonder how often someone asks him if he feels UN-Noseworthy...

Nostalgia

I'm at the Nation right now, doing some work, but mostly just remembering the good old days of the internship. The loving and warm embrace. The fall interns are being oriented at the moment. My own heady days seem so far away...

Also, I'm a little worried that the new web editor will not want to put my interview up. How cruel can someone be? Never fear-if she won't do it I'll post it in its entirety on the blog.

Also, Liliana caught a great moment of mine a few minutes ago. Sometimes I really need to keep my mouth shut.

No Time for Language Games

I sit, waiting anxiously for any crumbs of information, and it looks like today I must occupy myself by debating the possible meanings of "begin a conversation." Sent over email. In reference to a future telephone conversation(hopefully tomorrow). But why "begin?" I may go mad.

Aimee Mann Moment

I'm not listening to her music right now, but I have a line from one of her songs stuck in my head, the one that was also a line in Magnolia. The line when the cokehead woman says to the cop, "Now that I've met you, would you object to never seeing each other again?" It won't go away.

There was a car accident outside my apartment last night and a small fight broke out between the drivers. It seemed much of the neiborhood wanted in on it too. My question is this-a cab driver not carrying his driver's license? WTF? The cops came before anything interesting happened, but for a few minutes, it was chaos.

For DJ

Just because you're always complaining about the changes in your old 'hood...it's not a Brooklyn theme park just yet.

Piling Up

Do you ever have days where you manage to get tons of work done that has absolutely nothing to do with what you're doing right at this moment? You know, all the good, "future planning to-do list" stuff? That was my day. I took out my garbage and did my laundry(two things that are, I suppose, very present oriented), but other than that I've been chipping away at this massive rock face labelled "FUTURE" in big letters, trying to find the way through, and it's just not working. I'm more confused today than I was yesterday, and I'm sure that tomorrow will follow the pattern. I'm starting to worry that by the time I get to Friday I'll have no job in Minneapolis, no job here, and no idea how to fill the rapidly approaching winter months. Too much! It's all too much!

Inappropriate thoughts

I'm really tired of being angry about Hurricane Katrina. I'm also sometimes not very nice. These two things combined with a photo I just saw on Americablog(the one of the waterlogged cemetery) led me to one very, very bad thought-what if the floods spilled voodoo supplies throughout the city, or, alternately, what if the bacteria showing up in the stagnant water were a new mutant strain, and reanimated the dead? That's right, in this time of tragedy I still can't stop thinking about zombies. I guess the Administration could have it worse; they could have the evacuation, the rebuilding, and bloated, waterlogged walking dead. Somehow I don't think this is going to be one of McClellan's talking points next week, but I'm certainly thankful. Think back to the images of the Superdome and the Convention Center, etc., etc., and then imagine zombies there. It's Land of the Dead(a movie I didn't see because it's my WORST NIGHTMARE, or was until last week)!

Sorry about that, but I just couldn't hold it in anymore.

The Times hunts for justice and bags itself...culture wars

My love and fellow Badger pointed my attention to the start of the Rice Lake massacre trial in Madison, WI. This was a huge deal when it happened, and the issues the article raises are real ones that all native Madisonians think about(mostly it's just a sense of unrest that comes when we think about all the gun-toting people who surround us in Wisconsin and beyond into Minnesota, Illinois, and Iowa.) We are a different breed, and UW Madison is a great school in a state where, last time I checked, something like only 25% of people graduate from college. I know that the concerns of the Rice Lake residents are about more than the "context of hunting culture," they're linked to the sense that a liberal city won't give a fair trial to a minority who is accused of killing a bunch of 'northwoods hicks who probably voted Republican' because Madison is too PC. Thinking about it makes me long for the article about the Minnesota State Fair and the Butter Princesses

Oh, and in case you missed it...

Some people are actually writing well. I'm sure no one did, but just in case.

Changes

So it looks like Michael Brown is a goner. Good riddance. Do you think his old organization will provide a steed for him to ride into the sunset?

Also, someone told Cheney to go fuck himself and Cheney cracked the guy was probably a friend of John Kerry-while talking about the HURRICANE. But, you know, I'm sure it wasn't political.

Strange things are afoot at the Circle K right now, but it's nice to be back in New York. Also, I miss my baby.

Transit

So I'm finally on my way back to New York. I'm also a little overemotional thanks to modern medicine, so who knows how this trip will go. I can't wait to get back to everything, no matter how trivial it was. I've missed my life. See you guys soon.

"Ultra-catastrophe?"

Kyra Phillips of CNN just said "disaster to ultra-catastrophe." ?!? Joe Lieberman also just admitted that Homeland Security failed. People are holding up photos of their missing children on television. And the Bushes are calling up images of welfare queens lounging at the Astrodome. I just have to get this out-the President of the United States let people die. No arguments like the Iraq war; the bloated bodies floating in the streets didn't sign up to be poor. No more whining about what Blanco and Nagin should have done-they asked for help before the hurricane. I'm sure Tierney would be crying like a little bitch for help from the Feds if his pretty pretty New York abode was destroyed by natural disaster or, I don't know, terrorism. Be skeptical of government if you want to, but it exists to protect its citizens in exactly these situations, and it FAILED. I hope they all pay, and pay as dearly as I can wish without bringing the Secret Service down on myself.

A close friend of mine will be driving from Canyon, TX to Houston over the next several weekends to volunteer with the Red Cross, and he's opened his home to friends and former colleagues left with nothing. This is a man who can't afford a telephone right now, who's been charging his groceries. And he wants to do more. That's what we need, not live footage of pumping water from New Orleans. We need investigations into who was in charge when trucks with food and water were turned away by federal officials when local officials were begging for help. We need some revolution.

If you haven't watched the video of Jefferson Parish president Aaron Broussard on Meet the Press, avoid it. Those five minutes lay bare everything that is wrong with this country.

And, for the conspiracy theorists:
Mississippi Governor Haley Barbour and his constituents have had many good things to say about the Federal government's response to the hurricane. He is a Republican.

New Orleans is a heavily Democratic city with a Democratic Mayor, and Louisiana has a Democratic Senator and Governor, and, well, you've seen what's been going on there. It seems that it's a lot more dangerous to be a "D" in the South than I thought.

Drive-by interview

So yesterday I finally, at long last, spoke to Simon Reeve. He sounds brilliant. And Gorgeous. And I did it while in a car. On its way to Kentucky. With my whole family. Journalism never seemed so glamorous.

It'll be a little while until the interview actually goes up, but I'll post the link when it does. He's definitely on my list of most erudite, most admirable, most interesting role model types in the world today. He's still my hero.

Punk Rock Mailman

He was attractive and had the kind of long hair that guys in New York bands work their asses off to achieve before shooting the video for their first single. Tattoos ran down to his wrist on his left arm, and somehow the way he wore his blue-shirt-and-shorts uniform oozed "I just don't give a fuck" cool. He was the most distinctive looking person I'd seen in Minneapolis, and the fact that he was an actual employee of the US POSTAL SERVICE made it even cooler.

"That mailman looks like an uber-hipster," I said.
"He's not a hipster, he's the real thing," responded Ethan.
"What, he's legitimately hip?"
"No, he's working class and from the South."
"Oh, THAT real thing."

The New Princeton Review

Another gem from the sis:

Do you suppose the Princeton Review puts out a list of the top Skank schools in the US as a companion piece to the Party School rankings? I think that's the list for the future.

Exotic and Cool

Imagine my frustration this morning when I took a moment to look at the New York Times and discovered that our papaer of record had decided to ruin my anticipation of the State Fair. Nothing makes me angrier than seeing my Midwest comrades disrespected by coverage that makes them seem as quaint and foreign as a bunch of Uzbek bridenappers.

Sure, not everyone gets their likenesses carved out of delicious salted butter(think of all the popcorn you could make to eat with that much butter!), but that's no reason to write about the girls who compete to be Princess Kay of the Milky Way in a way that makes them sound inferior to all the fashion slaves who appear in the Fashion and Style section. I'd much rather hang with a bunch of dairy farmers than the people who-

wear cowboy boots in summer
love to drink at rooftop bars
move to Philadelphia from Williamsburg
actually care about Anna Wintour.

I'm still pretty excited about the fair. I plan on stuffing myself with lots of fried food(including some fresh from the grease funnel cake), gigantic pickles, and cheese cheese cheese. Although maybe that's just the Wisconsin State Fair. I doubt it though. Yay for home!

Departure

Today I fly through the sunny skies to Minneapolis for a week of relaxation and a special-needs version of playing house, and then to the southland for some family quality time. Thankfully technology is kind and the Midwest has wireless, so posts will continue and the absurd will be chronicled, perhaps.

Oh, and a special aside to Liliana: Thank you.

Steve Coogan, how could you?

Steve, Steve, Steve. I know some people loathe 24 Hour Party People, but I loved it and I love you. You're obviously a total pimp(your vignette in Coffee and Cigarettes proved it), but COURTNEY LOVE? I almost lost my lunch when I saw this on Gawker. Tony Wilson married a beauty queen, Steve. I suppose all you can hope for now is that Courtney's aged and drug-scarred womb isn't strong enough to support life. My innocence is lost.

Blast off!

This is not a post about Johnny Depp. Yesterday marked six months to the day of Hunter Thompson's death(I raised a glass to him with Eric), and his friends and family said goodbye by blasting his ashes out of a giant gonzo-fist cannon. The whole thing sounds like it was rather maudlin, but the New York Times does have some poetic moments.

"two hours of alcohol-free tributes" Huh? I hope that doesn't mean it was substance-free

"What unfolded here in the Rockies just outside of Aspen was the complete canonization of Mr. Thompson." How clever, Katharine Q. Seelye! Canon-Cannon! No wonder they sent you. Clearly you have the Thompson gift.

Ed Bradley? Of 60 Minutes? Learning that they were friends is like learning one of your parents was at Woodstock. It just doesn't compute.

It's nice to see that Jann Wenner has some sort of heart, even if it's a twisted and envious one.

Mr. Wenner recalled his drug-crazed exploits with Mr. Thompson but spoke of his feelings as well, saying at one point that he had been jealous of how close Mr. Depp had become to Mr. Thompson.

The Gonzo Fist is taller than the Statue of Liberty-can you imagine if we replaced that old dame with the two thumbed pillar? Maybe after the revolution.

Cyclones everywhere!

I made it through the Cyclone, some disappointing funnel cake, and some scorching sun yesterday without any ill effects. Today it took only coffee and my favorite omelette to make the room spin. Does anyone else think this is backward? I like my rollercoasters on the beach, not in my stomach. One day was more than enough-what gives with a whole week?

In other cyclone news, a tornado ripped through the next town down the highway from my hometown. It even killed someone. Wisconsin isn't Tornado Alley, but it's disconcerting to hear that people I know were shrieking and bolting for the basement last Thursday night.

As has already been reported, Saturday at Coney Island was everything I'd been hoping. There was even a short detour to the Brighton Beach boardwalk and the Black Sea Bookstore(if only I could reproduce the Cyrillic!). Not a whole lot has gone according to plan this summer, but yesterday is enough. Thanks girls.

On This Day

"...human beings are not born once and for all on the day their mothers give birth to them, but...life obliges them over and over again to give birth to themselves."

Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Happy Birthday Ethan. You're doing beautifully. I love you.

The Blackest of the Black

I have to go to some strange corners of the internet for my new job. Most of the time it's all pretty tame(although my ears are bleeding slightly from all the hardcore I've had to blurb), but sometimes I'm fortunate enough to stumble on unintentionally hilarious things like dialogues between black metal fans. You can spare yourself most of it because the best part is right here:

black metal has nothing to do with being happy. it should make you want to live in darkness, perhaps with a babbling brook nearby that would mock you in the night. but i fear i am being too harsh. I realize you may not think that mysticum are a bunch of pussies but that is probably because you have yet to hear my band witch taint. i am generally against promoting my music because i think it goes against everything that black metal is about. in a perfect world, black metal would exist totally in the mind (as it does with me much of the time). we would hear the black sounds pouring through our brain as we sit in darkness (or maybe there could be a torch nearby). this is true black metal. a compromise might be just having bands play in the woods and there could be a bonfire and a select few would be permitted to hide behind trees and listen to the bands perform. i realize however that this is impractical and it would be awkward if everybody ran into each other later at the grocery store or something. it is hard to be truly black when shopping for groceries, which is why i rarely eat unless i absolutely have to. i would however permit you to release an album from my band witch taint if you think you could handle it. i must warn you- it is truly black, some people say unlistenable. it is so black in fact that when i played it for a "friend" recently he said "if you don't take this music off i am going to kill myself!" this is how black it is. i would also like to make t-shirts, preferably long sleeve. please let me know what you think of this. i think you are ready. i am going to send you my band's demos. i recommend not having any sharp objects or firearms around while listening because it is so black you may harm yourself. also, please play my music for the members of mysticum. i would like them to work for me and i think they should become familiar with the material. i would like to call my album "in dominus perineum satanus."

A reprieve

Guess who's on vacation? It looks like I'll have to find another explanation to why I can't keep food down today.

Drug Free means Sense Free

Never trust the G-man. He'll screw you every time. Now that all my dreams of writing anti-drug propaganda gonzo-style have gone out the window, I suppose I can take the crack pipe back out without fear. At least I can be thankful for some employment. Now that I have a little more free time in the schedule, I face the cursor of doom. Blast.

Queasy from the Rollercoaster

It's an exhilarating feeling-up and up, watching the ground recede in time with the "click-click, click-click, click-click" of the machinery. My excitement always builds to a fever pitch as I survey the intricately engineered track I'm about to travel at high speeds, and just before we reach the top of that first climb I silence for the last time the voice that warns repeatedly that I should have stayed on the ground; I'm already strapped in, there's nothing to be done now but enjoy. It's always a fantastic adventure, but it also always ends too abruptly. I disembark, confused by the solid pavement, questioning whether or not I was really flying so high just moments before, savoring every drop of my adrenaline rush. Then it hits me-overindulgence has consequences, and they're never fun. It's always such a nasty comedown that I immediately start searching for a bigger, crazier, wilder ride, and I repeat the process until there is nothing left to do but stand, exhausted and a bit ill, and remember how it felt to be so high and so free.

Liberia in World Politics

Found in a reading room on the 6th Floor of Butler Library:

Respectfully Dedicated to His Excellency Presdent Edwin Barclay and the Brave Men and Women who are Building a New Republic of Liberia without Doubting the Capacity of any Branch of the Human Family to Guide and Control its Destiny.

In 1934 Liberia was in the midst of what the author calls "The Period of International Mediation." 1934. My intrepid roommate just sent me a dispatch from an Ethiopian UNMIL camp. Glad to see the Liberians are so consistent.

Here there be Dragons...

An amateur photographer took some pictures while flying over Lhasa, and the pictures showed some strange shapes that suggest dragons! This is just like in one of my favorite children's books, Everyone Knows What a Dragon Looks Like, except instead of a little boy saving the Chinese from invading Mongol hordes because of his faith in dragons, now the Chinese are the invaders and the poor Tibetans need the protection of these majestic magical creatures. It'd be great if there was a dragon kingdom high in the sky above the Himalayas. Do you think the Chinese will try to harness the power of the dragons to use as an alternative transportation methond? Then they wouldn't be dependent on foreign oil and they would crush us all!

A Confession of Love

A major problem with this whole freelancing thing is that I don't get up early enough to catch the good articles before Gawker gets to them. In this case I can't help but be repetetive; my feelings are too strong. Girl Crush? Liliana, it's more than that-it's girl love, and I can only hope that your shiny metal heart will accept my affections. You're so stylish! You have such great hair! Such a pretty smile! You're so funny! And you love Faerie Tale Theatre! Also, your great forebearance during my "smart one, pretty one" phase was truly beautiful. I'd ask you to run away with me, but I know we face some serious obstacles. Europe and the Dark Continent is out-too close to your intrepid flame. We'll never make it West either-jealous yet well formed prose would catch us as soon as we crossed the Mississipi. Our only choice is South-will your native land provide a home and accept us? It'd only be transgressive if you insisted on bringing my sister along...

Great Moments in DVD Commentary

Little Sis' comment on the "Best Line Ever" was so good I'm not adding anything.

Oliver Stone gets it for his commentary on the director's cut
of "Alexander"

"Maybe in another time and place we'll have a fair treatment of
eunuchs."

Its brilliance is too great to be put into words. Once you record how brilliant it is, those words written down would
outshine the sun, and our galaxy would be in trouble.

Pacman evolves

It's damn near impossible to get work done at the Tea Lounge. Normally when cafes are distracting it's because of cute boys, but not here. Here I find myself overwhelmed by the babies. They're everywhere. And toddlers. And small children. There are probably as many adorable, womb-enticing moppetts as there are adults.

There are two little girls, both about 4, engaged in heated competition right now. Caroline, the one in pink shorts who vaguely resembles a preschool Louise Brooks, is showing a mean competetive streak. She alternates between shouts of "I'm winning I'm winning! I'm gonna beat you!" and "Damn! Shoot Shoot Shoot!" I'm a little concerned for her future well-being, although her mother was appropriately mortified, but I don't know if "Hooray" will cover the range of things Caroline seems to want to express.

I hope I never have a child who's that obsessed with triumph, although I have a hunch that might not be in the cards. Anyone who ever had to listen to me bitch about how unjust my high school teachers were for leaving the "+" off of my A's would agree, I think.

Speaking of competition, this line from an article in the Times reminds me why it's important to win at all costs:

In 1999 the Kansas board drew international attention when it deleted most references to evolution from its science standards. Elections the next year resulted in a less conservative board, which led to the current, evolution-friendly standards. Conservatives recaptured the board's majority in the 2004 elections.

Now the winners get to write more than just history. I'd like to see Pacman eat Kansas-it's so flat and square he could use the highways just like the mazes in the game. The tractors could be the ghosts. Churches are extra points. It'd be easy! A live action version of the game already exists-it'd be a snap to adapt. Next time these guys have a game, I'm going, and I'm taking little Caroline with me.

Kick 'em while they're down

In addition to seeing her late husband's status as the world's most-admired quadraplegic challenged by the cast of what will inevitably be one strange Mountain Dew commercial(their Wheaties box is coming-it's only a matter of time), Christopher Reeves' widow Dana has lung cancer. And she's not a smoker. I guess things can always get worse.

Melting Clocks and such

The internet has special powers. All kinds of information floating around. It's enough to make you paranoid, like a constant buzz in your ears that always "meant" someone was talking about you. Nobody knows you're a dog in cyberspace, or so they say, so it's just a big mystery.

Back to more normal things, sort of. England has a serious problem with axe murders. The latest is much more disturbing than the first from several months ago. Apparently this one was a hate crime. Incredibly sad, really. Almost makes me lose my taste for random axe murders. Almost.

A BUST-y evening

Thanks to my very well rounded friend's blog stalking of the Village Voice's sex columnist, my favorite protocol droid and I got into BUST Magazine's "Men We Love" issue release party. Not surprisingly, there were a lot more overheard "when I was in Yugoslavia" stories than there were "Nina Hartley and I were talking about the best threesome dynamics" stories, and not nearly enough free drinks. We also didn't get gift bags. We did, however, manage to get onto the roof and mingle with all the green-tagged VIPs. Lousy schmoozers that we are, we spent the whole time in our own corner talking about our favorite, decidedly un-BUSTY topic, boys that give us fits of the Brontes. Not a single work connection was made, not one hapless hipster left flustered by our awesomeness. Missed opportunity? Or the only way to spend a Thursday night when you're unemployed-I mean freelancing?

The Gospel according to Little Sis

Once again, my sister, the prodigal cheesehead and defender of infanticide in the service of Classical art, has proven just how superior she is to mere mortals. No references to 90210 this time, although I'd like to take a moment to reflect on the philosophical battle that was clearly going on when both 90210 and Saved by the Bell had their special summer seasons. Clearly drama is a more effective mode-Kelly Kapowski became Valerie Malone and the victory was complete!

That was not the point. The point is this:
Sister on her Strindberg-like depression-

I wish i had my little floating Helium now. those cute floating elements are never around when you need them. except Beryllium.....he never leaves.

Sister on her newly purchased material goods-

If my iPod were to cheat on my iBook with anything, it'd be these shoes. That's how cute they are.

Sister on some recent saccharine behavior-

You're going to play Scrabble? I have a good word for you from my Scrabble calendar. What is it? Tell me so I can use it! P-A-T-H-E-T-I-C.

It's hard to live with the knowledge that someone you love so dearly is so much cleverer than you.

What can the undead teach us of tolerance?

I learned something the other day. Something important. Something that changed me. Some zombies are not. all. evil. Yes, this is a big step for me. Luckily there are some plucky walking corpses north of the border who have taken as their mission the torment and defeat of history geeks. My new favorite person, Liz documented in beatiful detail all the beauty havoc zombies can create. There are even some pictures upon pictures of this beautiful day. I can't believe I've wasted so much time hating zombies-clearly I hate Ren Fair attendees more. It's a good thing there aren't any movies about them. That'd really scare me.

Pataki is going to veto a potential godsend of a bill because he thinks it'll get him elected President, but those Republicans aren't going to vote for you anyway, George! You're a Godless New Yorker, remember? Of course, only in New York would the Republican State Senate Majority Leader criticize him for all the right reasons:

"The bill would have given women more options to prevent pregnancies and, as a result, would have prevented abortions," Mr. Bruno said. "I was surprised by the governor's reason for a veto, given that under existing law, minors already have access to a far worse alternative than taking a pill to prevent an unwanted pregnancy."

That sound you just heard was my entire world turning upside down. Republicans being reasonable? Next think you know, someone's going to tell me not all zombies are bad!

Fuck and Run? I only wish...

I thought the title of this Times piece was interesting for several reasons: The Independence of Liz Phair? Hardly. I'll forgive Liz Phair a lot-I like Whip Smart, for Christ's sake-but let's not pretty up what she's doing right now. Poor David Carr is still so smitten with the possibility that Ms. Phair might actually do some of the things she sings about in "Flower"(I guess I do know a lot of guys looking for blowjob queens though, so I can't blame him too much) that he can't admit that what sucks about Liz Phair isn't that she sold out, but that her music isn't that good anymore. She's hot, I won't fault her for acting it, but I can and will fault whitechocolatespaceegg for having no standout songs and no coherent theme. I will fault her most recent singles for sounding so generic I mistake them for the latest slop by American Idol losers. I'm not the only one to notice this phenomenon by any means, either.

I love my angry girl music, even if I'm not so angry anymore. I know the argument-I grew up, why wouldn't they, blah blah blah. At least PJ Harvey still uses her guitar. That's all I ask.

UN-be-fucking-lievable

John Bolton...Recess Appointment...United Nations...I'm sorry, I'd type more but the steam shooting out of my ears is obscuring my view of the computer screen. Let's review for a moment-George Bush appointed a man revealed to be unstable, unprofessional, and OPPOSED TO THE PRINCIPLES, AND VERY EXISTENCE, OF THE UNITED NATIONS to be our Ambassador to that body despite massive reservations on the part of the Senators whose duty it is to review qualifications. Bush referred to partisan obstructionism when making a statement following his appointment, as well as to "the up-and-down vote" that is code for "approval without a thorough review."

I really love this Rove-ian linguistic bait and switch-these "up-and-down" votes have never been the norm, and Republicans played any number of games with Clinton appointees(it's hardly necessary to bring in the appalling statistics on Judicial appointees in Clinton vs. Bush). The Senators that capitulated to Bush's desires in 2001(I'm thinking specifically of Russ Feingold and his whiny, snivelling, pathetic, completely uncharacteristic excuse, "I may think Ashcroft is awful, but the President has the right to pick his cabinet") opened the door to Bush's behavior now. By letting GW appoint incompetent thugs then, he thinks, nay, he knows, he can get away with it now.

This means we're stuck with Bolton until after the next Congressional election-hardly a nice thought when you consider that means he has approximately 18 months to blow the top ten floors off the UN building, or whatever the hell it was he said that made him sounds like such a jerk.

I've got to admit that there are a couple of images dancing in my head that amuse me-
1. John Bolton chasing President of the UN General Assembly Jan Eliasson as if he were a female underling in a Moscow hotel lobby, and
2. The Ali G interview.

I love my sister

Excerpt from an Instant Message conversation with my sister:

Corngirl521: as someone very wise once said, "i love you, but i'm not in love with you", ya know?
meredithlynnec: you ARE referring to that time Dylan said that to Brenda, right?
Corngirl521: oh yeah

If she would only come around and accept there is no intrinsic connection between the signifier and the signified, she'd be perfect.

Made for Breaking

Some rules should just not be followed. Some examples:
1. No drinking coffee on the subway. Do we need to cover why this is ridiculous? I think not.
2. You can only get Plan B with a prescription or through a doctor type. There are so many reasons this rule should be skirted I barely know where to start. I've seen teenage girls in tears because they have to choose between emergency contraception and their jobs thanks to Planned Parenthood's requirement that you make an appointment. Women get punished harshly in sacrifices of time and money for their lack of sense while their partners get away with being inconsiderate jackasses. Next time you're at the doctor, get a prescription and keep it just in case you or one of your friends need it. Turn your medicine cabinet into your own free clinic. It's the least to be done for the sisterhood(Liliana, are you ready to implement Plan A or do you still need the weapons training?).
3. Park and Cemetery hours. Seriously, what's the fun if you can't go at night? Besides, it's always fun to work on the fence jumping skills.
4. Any and all pictures and lists designed to ensure good behavior. Especially if there are stick figure drawings. Lists just make it easier to break rules systematically.

It's supposed to be nice this weekend. Do something you shouldn't.

Are you bored?

If you have ever felt like you have too much time on your hands, rest easy. This man cleary has more. Hilarious. Thank you Larcat.

Another ending draws near

Since it's actually not oppressive outside, I decided to put on some pants. Not just any pants, but my favorite pair of jeans. They're a little tight, okay, really tight, so they're not good for hot sticky weather. I realized as I pulled them on that the fabric is even more worn and faded than the other fabric, which means one thing-they'll fall apart soon. Knee holes? Fine. Even a few rips near the seat are okay. It's when you notice that the entire rear side of the pants looks and feels vaguely like a kleenex that you have to come to terms with losing such a close friend. I'll enjoy our remaining times together, Express Low Rise Boot Cut. I've got a lot of memories from the last 5 years. Thank you.

Yee haw

The New York Times Style section managed to display a positively Friedmanesque grasp of the cutting edge today when they deemed one of the next big things to be...Cowboy Boots. I think this quote epitomizes what makes the article so amazing:

Like Uggs, the fuzzy Australian footwear brand adopted as beachwear by California style setters, cowboy boots tend to be viewed as a moderately subversive statement, "a way of saying, 'I don't really care about the rules,' " suggested Sharon Haver, the founder of FocusonStyle, a fashion Web site. "Even your mother might cock an eyebrow."

Speaking of Friedman, I think he might finally have run out of terrible car-based metaphors and similes, because he went enviro-friendly-yesterday's column. Apparently we should all be biking, wait no, be more like China, wait, no, we should be more like Lance Armstrong! Clearly our economy would benefit from a second lease on life after the cancerous plague trade deficits and outsourcing, but why did our economy get testicular cancer, Tom? Could it have something to do with the chemical filled carcinogenic bicycle seat that is the US's love of disastrous trade agreements? There's no place to freeze our economic sperm to ensure future global virility. No, Friedman, what you prescribe will leave us less than half a man. Warren Buffett says we're heading towards a "sharecropper society," enslaved by our needs and by the countries that can meet them. Getting out of the mess we're in is going to be a lot harder than the Tour de France, I think.

Lance Armstrong is an amazing athlete, I can't deny that. Does that mean we have to find instruction in all great athletes? Where's the "make our military policy more like Tiger Woods' tee-off strategy" column? I'm waiting-that would be about as hip and with it as the cowboy boot article. Also, there is already a "Live Wrong" bracelet. It's black. The cynics beat you to it.

The classics

My subway reading of late has been Madame Bovary. Somehow I made it all the way through college without having Gustave over to play, and now our date will be over in about 20 pages. There's nothing like a book about adultery to get one thinking, especially one that reduces its heroine to an interesting act of self-destruction, one that doesn't let her off the hook by shifting to the narrative resolution of a character who learns the virtues that the author wants to point us towards(are you listening Leo? Why didn't you just call it Constantin Levin?). What I wonder is: other than the masterful prose, what is it that makes these completely predictable tales of women incapable of controlling their impulses so readable, so enduring? If we relate to the story, does that mean we in the modern world are nothing but a bunch of debauched gigolos and slatterns? Do all adulterers deserve to eat Arsenic or manually change the train signals? Or does this genre describe a framework that no longer functions, an outdated moralism that does more harm than good? Is it time to start fucking? Or is are we all bound for the confessional?

Ask and Ye Shall Receive

A little dandyish, but still pretty
Lauren beat me to it today, and it seems I can't rest until I keep the Robot's circuits from overloading, so guess there needs to be some more good looking guys. You don't get it that easy though-you never said anything about these guys being dressed like guys.

He hasn't been as hot since, and I honestly think it's the drag. He was the guy who wasn't Russell Crowe in L.A. Confidential, Guy Pearce. The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert features a ton of (now) stars dressing up in amazing drag costumes and dancing to disco. It's the reason I own ABBA Gold, and the reason I first saw Shallow Grave(if you remember the pretty pictures that inspired). I love it, and I love him. Pretty Pretty. And apparently he's going to be Andy Warlhol in the upcoming movie about Edie Sedgwick(the one where KATIE HOLMES was going to play Edie-WTF!?!). And Gwen Stefani and Gavin Rossdale are involved somehow. I'm confused. But not about Guy Pearce's hotness.

Makeup can be a boy's friend too...

A placeholder

Apologies for the almost complete lack of substance of late. Even more apologies for all the time I spend treating this like a livejournal. I will have more time to write soon and I can get back to trying to be clever and everyone can get back to pretending that I'm not failing miserably. Now back to your regularly scheduled static while I return to sweating profusely in this monstrous heat.

Can robots cry?

Liliana, welcome back. Knowing you're back at the helm makes your absence just slightly more bearable. What I'm going to do with all these freeze-dried cat fetuses without you is still a mystery.

Freedom! Sweet Freedom!

The locksmith finally arrived, and like magic I was free. I was then chastised for not using the handle when closing the grate despite my protestations that I had never done that. I was the one who was stuck-why should I suffer abuse as well? Can someone explain how I was in the wrong? Thanks for the moral support guys. If only the celebration had led to a real celebration instead of to work...

Trapped

I'm locked inside my apartment right now. The lock is broken such that I cannot open my front gate from the inside. That is no fun at all. The worst part of this is that this is not the first time I've been locked inside my apartment. It happened a few times in Prague. Never install a lock on your door that serves the same function from the outside that a chain does from the inside. If you have a roommate it will lead to nothing but trouble. Nothing but trouble. Also, never use All Security Locks. They are evil people that will force you to sleep in your apartment when it is grossly insecure and make you late to work with their complete lack of timeliness. What a way to start the week.

I thought this article was funny. People who are over 25 right now should not be allowed to use text messaging. It clearly only leads to trouble-and painful Modern Love ruminations.

Back to Nature

I'm off to Vermont for the weekend to commune with the woodland creatures, perhaps to run through the forest with Robin Hood and Little John, but I'm sure I'll come back to something that infuriates me. Take it easy kids.

Talking Points? I get a lump in my throat every time I write them...

It seems I've been mistaken for George Lakoff(come on guys, you know the sorts of things involving elephants that I advise against-thinking is the LEAST of them) and some basic facts on John Roberts have been requested. Here's my best shot:

First off, a better man and better journalist has some information on Roberts' ideas on Roe v. Wade. A good quote to memorize and repeat-

"Roe was wrongly decided and should be overruled. [T]he Court's conclusion in Roe that there is a fundamental right to an abortion," argued Roberts, "finds no support in the text, structure, or history of the Constitution."

Second, Roberts is enough of a mystery to everyone that conservative groups are worried that we could have another Souter on our hands. Another Souter would be a good thing, but it's not going to happen. I imagine that this is actually a plant story devised to make people like us feel better and not ask that many questions.

Third, it's less important that WE know all about Roberts now than it is that our Senators actually do their job and grill the hell out of him during his confirmation hearings. Groups exist with the intent of convincing the public and the Senate that the questioning should be limited in scope. This is simply unacceptable. It was a good thing that Ted Kennedy destroyed Robert Bork back in the 80s, and if Roberts has a record that deserves a repeat of that, it should happen. Call your Senators and remind them-now.

Third, here's his profile on Findlaw.com. It doesn't tell much, but at least it hasn't been spoon-fed to us. Better yet, here's the PFAW preliminary report on him. You should be able to make your own favorite bulle points with this.

Fourth, I don't have a clue, but read this article from Alternet because it's good and written by a much bigger insider than myself.

Hope this helps, and don't forget to call your Senators, even if they're not on the Judiciary Committee. You can find their phone numbers here. CALL THEM!

The suspense!

So Bush is announcing his SC nominee at 9 tonight. I can barely breathe for anticipation! Speculation points to a woman named Edith Brown Clement of New Orleans maritime law fame. I wouldn't be worried at all if she had been tough on pirate crime, but somehow I feel like she's just another in the Bush mold. More later.

Drama drama drama

If you've received any emails from me today, you might have sensed that I'm not in the greatest of moods. The other thing you probably noticed is that I'm writing a bit more, how shall we say, angstfully. To spare everyone from my overwrought prose, I'm going to retreat to the safety of my newly purchased light reading(wild guesses? I think you know...) and the bottle of wine I bought at Warehouse Wine and Spirits. I did have a lovely, but depressing, conversation with a woman on the subway about how much we hate Bush, Blair, Cheney, Halliburton, and the rest of the evil alphabet. It's nice to find a comrade in arms, especially on the subway when it's this hot. Maybe this isn't a heatwave after all-maybe we've already died in a Bush sanctioned nuclear holocause and are now languishing in some sort of collective Hell, a la Jacob's Ladder, or Soul Survivors. Wait, that's the sort of typing that's been getting me into trouble. No more!

Incidentally, Lewis Black has a small role in Jacob's Ladder. The kindly doctor? That's him. He's the nicest, sanest character in the movie...

The Freudian slips of the Ex-gays

The New York Times actually managed to write a decent story about this strange phenomenon called "blogging!" This miracle is in part, I think, due to the fact that the story isn't just about crazy online communities, wacky gossip, or political commentary, it's about scary "gayness" treatment centers. To summarize-gay teen reveals on his myspace blog that his parents are packing him off to Christian re-education camp, this entry spreads over the interweb, protests ensue, NYT takes another look at the fundies. My favorite bit of the article comes from the man who runs the camp, John Smid:

I think exploring sexuality can lay a teenager up for numerous lifelong issues.

In case any smidgen of doubt had crept into your mind that ultra-conservative Christians are all about keeping sex taboo, scary, and mired in guilt, that quote should pretty much put it to rest. I'm glad I spent my Sunday reading this article and not in church.

This is a great idea

Sure, prostitution isn't widely legal in the United States, but generally speaking, I think this sort of fine might be a nice deterrent to one of the most annoying things about way too many men. I'm a big fan of punishing bone-headed behavior with public humiliation, so this is just my kind of thing. It's like publishing mug shots on the Smoking Gun, but better.

Also, there are strange vines that seem to be setting up an invasion into my apartment. It's very Evil Dead, or maybe Twin Angels, except without all the tentacle sex.

A contest

A young fellow I know showed himself to be no friend of the workers yesterday when he mercilessly mocked my brilliant idea for a great Communist musical. "There will be NO solos," he jeered, "everyone's part WILL be the same size!" I feel he missed the point, especially since those are both great ideas that shouldn't be used in scorn. We could make the entire think like Greek theatre-all Chorus!

Please friends, prove me wrong-whoever gives me the best Lenin-the musical related lyric, or if you must, title with some sort or production note, wins a drink on me, maybe even two! Don't forget, we're all about solidarity and such, so I just might have to owe one to anyone who participates!

Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince makes the blood hot

Come on Harry, loosen that tie just a little bit...

I'm excited about the Harry Potter book. I haven't pre-ordered or anything, andI've never played the card game, but I do love little Harry(and his not-so-little-anymore cinematic portrayer Daniel Radcliffe-yes, yes I am that dirty). This is why I might have to drop everything and go to SoHo tomorrow night for the launch party.

As part of its mega-marketing campaign, Scholastic has shipped 5.5 million temporary lightning-bolt tattoos to stores and will host a street party in New York's SoHo district Friday night. An autographed copy of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince will be on display.

I can think of a few places to put those temporary tatoos that might make this party adults-only.

In other news...

It's time to start drinking cough syrup! I mean, if you want a cut of the fun...

I may be embalmed using secret Soviet methods, but my musical legacy lives on!

I heard a commercial on the radio the other day for Lennon The Musical. I'm a huge Beatles fan; I know all the words to all their songs, I can quote whole sections of A Hard Day's Night, and I had an extensive collection of Beatles posters on my walls through high school. All these things said, I don't think we need a musical biography of John Lennon. I do think we need a musical biography of Vladimir I. Lenin. As Lauren suggested, one song would have to feature spelling out a word, perhaps "Kapital?" The Trotsky death scene will be as dramatic as the chandelier crashing down in Phantom, and I envision a Don Giovanni style haunting of Stalin carried out by our protagonist subject himself. I see it as a smash hit.

Because drinking requires more talking...

Fancy Robot, I know that we might enjoy a third voice for our evenings on the balcony, but I have to say I feel for Rebecca on this one too. She hates inanimate objects that talk more than you love them, and I do know how serious that is. Imagine what would happen if the wine bottles became intelligent, like in the Terminator movies, if they gained intelligence from watching us while we drank. They would learn of our vulnerabilities, learn that they should encourage us to consume their contents, leaving us drunk and complacent and them light and ready to execute their plan for world domination. They would be in league with the microchip credit/ID cards currently being implanted in Italian clubgoers to rule the world of high class nightclubs and dive bars alike for years to come. What would their bouncers be-newly sentient wax casings from expensive gouda? The mind boggles...

Critters

No, not the killer-fuzzbalss from the movies (whose third installment featured a post-Growing Pains, pre-Gilbert Grape Leonardo DiCaprio). I'm talking about bugs. Creepy, crawly, invisible bugs that leave no trace except for itchiness and increasing paranoia. Those are the kind I'm talking about, and those critters are currently tormenting me. Some of you might say, "She's gone mad! MAD, I tell you!" but I beg to differ. I recognize that I am probably not the victim of an invisible infestation(although I did see a play about that, titled, appropriately enough, BUG), but if you are one of the people who ends up in my company in the near future, I would like to offer a preemptive apology for all the time I will spend scratching and mumbling, "I know they're here, I can feel them, they're crawling everywhere, can't you SEE the bugs?!?" I can understand that might be a bit weird for you.

This isn't good

I was going to post something terribly clever about Law and Order DA Fred Thompson advising Bush on matters of Supreme Court selection, but now that seems a little silly. That is most definitely NOT to say that the Supreme Court is not important in light of the GIANT FUCKING EXPLOSIONS that just went off in London, just that maybe it's more important for us to stop for a moment and think about how badly George Bush and Tony Blair are going to mess up the response to this.

It's a lot harder to convey horrified sarcasm on the internet, but I'll give it a try anyway. This War on Terror is going fucking gangbusters! We've got them on the run! Afghanistan and Iraq have been such huge successes-let's invade more countries!

I don't want to be vulgar, but Western nations would probably get bombed by "freedom hating" terrorists if we stopped sodomizing sovereign countries with our "freedom."

Speaking of freedom, read Christian Parenti's book "The Freedom," and Asne Seierstad's "101 Days" and "The Bookseller of Kabul." It's as good a time as any to read the work of more war correspondents.

Fuck.

So long, Sandra Day O'Connor. You couldn't have waited just a little bit longer? Fuck, fuck and FUCK.

The US gets schooled-again

Spain-a country that allowed TORTURE until 1975-just legalized gay marriage. A country that has been a free of a brutal dictatorship for less than the lifespan of Leonardo DiCaprio, the home of the SPANISH INQUISITION, supports the gays. And our states have institutionalized discrimination and are trying to make it harder for our friends, neighbors, and family members to raise children, support each other, and just generally live the lives they deserve as humans and as Americans. Zapatero, you have once more proved how right the Spaniards were to elect you over Aznar. GW, as always, drop dead and burn in hell.

I'm the zombie now-in other news, BOYS!

No, MONKEY, I did not get bitten by one of those devil dogs, I just had a long day at work, and it was painfully hot and humid all day, so my brain is no longer solid, and I can't quite form sentences. I can look at pictures though, so it's time for another edition of Meredith's Super Special Boy Bloggery. Today's subject-Ewan McGregor.

I like this picture because I have an unnatural love for Iggy Pop, and for all its flaws, McGregor's version of Pop in Velvet Goldmine did ooze sex and animal magnetism. It also provided yet another opportunity to see Ewan give the finger to mainstream Hollywood by, um, wagging something else at them-see also The Pillow Book, Trainspotting, and Young Adam for more evidence of this rebellious streak. Sure, he's gone mainstream now, but he's got kids to feed. Besides, how can you hate someone who's best buds with Jude Law?

I've been nursing this unnatural obsession ever since I saw the preview(yes, the preview) for Shallow Grave on the Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert tape I rented far too many times from my friendly neighborhood Movie Gallery, so this has been going on for a solid 10 years now. Won't you join me in my adoration of this eyeliner-loving, nudity-championing marquee idol?

News of the World

The President is giving a speech about Iraq shortly, but instead of listening to his tired and delusional reasoning for endangering the lives of men and women who could and should be looking after a few of the other messes we've created in the last four years(Afghanistan, anyone?), I'm going to have a drink. In case you don't feel like watching either, Daily Kos has a link to some excerpts released earlier today. It's the same old same old, so let's look at a couple of things we should be paying more attention to:

1. Robert Novak roams free while Judy Miller and Matt Cooper are gearing up for prison life. I don't care how many times it's been said before, this is a gross miscarriage of justice. Robert Novak committed Treason when he named Valerie Plame as a CIA agent-it's not exaclty rocket science-and he's being protected by some demonic force, and the government just struck a huge blow to journalistic freedom. Judith Miller is a bad journalist-that's not rocket science either-but she didn't even write an article using the information she received from her source. The New York Times was right in their editorial. However, they were wrong about

2. This Supreme Court Decision. Yes, internet piracy is bad. Theft is wrong. But. I think the Times is wrong support the Court's hairsplitting on what new technologies can and can't do. I'm not an expert on this(start reading Larry Lessig's blog for that-right now), but the public domain is shrinking, and if you've ever read the license agreements you have to agree to before using software(again, if you don't, start now-scary), you know that corporations already exercise enormous power over what normal people can and can't do with content. The internet is still developing, even if the "tech bubble" has long since burst, and the conglomerate interests have done a pretty good job making sure they control what we see and how we use things we purchase(Lessig's book Free Culture covers e-books and other such things and how awful it is that we don't have control over content we own). Could it be the New York Times is still sore over losing this lawsuit?

3. John Tierney is still a dipshit. What kind of permits do you need for scalping?

4. Finally, Poland wants us to remember them, but in a slightly different way than GW wants us to. They want to bring harmony to the EU. Who would ever be afraid of a Polish plumber who looks like that? He looks more likely to listen to the Pet Shop Boys' version of "Go West" than actually go West. I don't think it's fair to make fun of the whole country for not being influential enough to pull of a compromise. Just because Italian monastaries are prettier than Soviet-style panelacki...

Worst. Scientists. Ever.

Thanks, MONKEY. Thanks a lot. It's bad enough that we're all going to die of Avian Influenza, but thanks to the news you posted in my darling robot's absence, now I can look forward to a flu pandemic AND demonic canines. My only hope is that I'll be so delirious with fever that I jump off a roof in an attempt to fly away from the packs of zombie hellhounds that will invariably overrun our society. Mother Nature is crying for us. If only Captain Planet could rescue us from this hubris!

Something Fun

It's hot and I'm struggling to find some way to amuse myself. While I ponder that, this site defies words. Hilarious. I guarantee you'll be squeaking afterwards.

Go here now.

Some Subtle Social Commentary

About as subtle as having your arm gnawed off by the undead. Even the computers are zombies now. Why does it have to be good? It's easy to dismiss a movie when it's mindless, but how am I supposed to stay away from a film when it has a brain in its lumbering zombie body? That makes me want to see it so I can feel superior to those who don't realize the level of sophistication involved in sculpting a political allegory out of rotting flesh. If only I didn't hate the rotting flesh part so much.

How does one stop hating horror films with a burning passion? Is there a cure for that fear?

In other news, more people are dying in Iraq, and George Bush just won't listen to reason. More on that later. For now I have to go enjoy my long afternoon...

Make Like Dolly Parton

Yeah, I'm at a 9 to 5. Not that that's bad. I need structure and discipline, much like Ted when his father threatened to send him to boarding school before he went on the Excellent Adventure. I just didn't realize exactly how well I'd segmented my days into chunks of non-work until I sat down to do eight hours of actual work at one time. Horrifying. Suddenly I'm wondering how much money I could make by selling organs. I'd get to hang out at home a lot...

Seriously though, it would figure that the news got crazy just as I stopped having time to post regularly. Between David Brooks, Karl Rove, Donald Rumsfeld, and The Supreme Court's decision today, shit's just a little more crazy. No time for commentary-I've got emails to send. Then, softball. I'm not playing(are you crazy?), but I have to cheer on The Nation against Air America. It's not just that I'm competitive; this is a personal. Maybe someone will hit Al Franken with a baseball bat. Probably won't happen-I bet he has a designated bat-target for him. Dude's rich enough to pay someone for that.

To the Monkey

I realize the picture I posted was huge and gross, but I like to consider it a public service to those in the world still considering unprotected sex. I'm just looking out for the poor children stuck in abstinence only education programs. Safe sex, kids. If you can't trust Joey Potter...

The End

Today is my last day at The Nation. The new interns are here, working away, I am soon to pass on my work to someone else and ride into the sunset, or Soho, to be exact, for my next gig. I still have lots of work to do, lots of writing and such(what with my silly dream of being a writer needing actual output to be legitimate), but for the next two hours I'm just going to sit at the computer that has been mine for the past six months, remember what it felt like during my first weeks here, and think about how many things have changed since I stepped off the plane at JFK on January 8th. I may also read some celebrity gossip. Posts may be slightly more infrequent for a bit, but I will not abandon my duty as a chronicler of the absurd, the pretty, and the absurdly pretty.

On the Tom Cruise-Katie Holmes "Love" Contract

I know it's old news, but it's still a point of discussion. For example:

"You'd think he wouldn've chosen someone without Herpes."
I agree, Liliana, but without a disclosure clause in the contract he probably signed it BEFORE this unsightly outbreak...

A Call To Arms

Ok girls, I need some help. I'm going to try and interview Simon Reeve, but I'm blanking on questions to ask. I want it to be good(I've learned there might be a few people out there who have an interest in the man), so if you have any suggestions, especially if you've seen his BBC programs(I haven't yet), send them my way.

Miyazaki does Bowie

Will he grow up to be this?

A girl can hope...

After seeing Howl's Moving Castle last night, my friend looked at me and said, "when Howl had blond hair he reminded me of David Bowie in Labyrinth." As she said it, the disturbing attraction I'd felt for this cartoon character suddenly made sense. Flowing white shirt-check. New age jewelry-check. Androgynous yet beautiful face and hair-check and check. All these things might have added up to little more than coincidence if it hadn't been for the final, perfect element-long, slim legs in TIGHT black pants. Granted, androgyny is not exactly uncommon in Japanese animation, but everyone knows that the defining characteristic of Labyrinth wasn't the muppets or the story, but "the pants." Who doesn't have that (at the time) mysterious bulge in those spandex pants seared into their memory? Certainly no girl I know. I credit those pants with my sexual awakening(Jareth was so powerful and menacing, and so SEXY!) When he tells Jennifer Connelly(herself responsible for a few disturbing realizations among small males) "I ask for so little. Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave," I couldn't (and still can't) understand why on earth she'd say no. Who wouldn't fear something that huge?! Some think that these pants are a detriment to the film, but I couldn't disagree more. I also take issue with nearly all of what this person has to say about other beloved fantasy films of the 80's. Except Legend. There are no words powerful enough to describe the awfulness of that Tangerine Dream scored piece of shit. Tim Curry's horns, on the other hand...(just kidding)

Back to Howl. He's hardly the pathology -force of nature Bowie was(I may never recover), but there's still something neo-glam rock manic-depressive bad boy hot about him(although that might just be Christian Bale's voice). Sure you want to slap him, but you know he'll do magic just for you, much like your imaginary rock star boyfriend will write his biggest hit out of love for you. Somehow, and maybe it's because the movie as a whole was something of a disappointment after the superb Spirited Away(you know there's trouble when the romance between a small child and an ageless river spirit is more convincing than that between two adults), I find myself wishing today that Miyazaki had made the movie, and his characters, more Ziggy Stardust than that prissy vamp in The Hunger. The happy ending would have been much more believable, and the script less groan-inducing among adults. A little more rock star in the moving castle(and a whole lot less Billy Crystal-what dipshit thought that was a good casting decision?) would have gone a long way to making a movie I desperately want to love but can't one that inspires creepy fantasies in children and grown women for decades to come.