Not too long ago, I almost got verbally reactive with someone for arguing politics with me in my own home because I figure that I have to tolerate with a closed mouth (as much as I’m actually capable of this) and a fake smile all the drivel that people believe while I’m out in the work or school or whatever world. But in my house — where I pay the bills and decide whether or not you get to even cross the threshold — there will be no arguing with me about my politics. You are welcome to leave if you don’t like my rules. We were discussing Cindy Sheehan and I graciously conceded that she was “crazy from grief” rather than rip into this guest of mine and cause discomfort for everyone in the room.
I’m amending that now after reading her goodbye-cruel-Democratic-party letter published on the Daily Kos. I sympathize with her — I truly do. I’m not even happy for her belated realization that she was used by a bunch of scheisters to further their agendas. I hate that she had to find out that they never — not once, not for a damn minute — cared that she was mourning the death of her son. If they had they would have tried to clean up the wreckage of her life, not put her back in the same car, drunk, with no brakes, heading toward a cliff. You’ll see in her letter that her family situation — the people who probably should have been the ones comforting her — has suffered almost irreparably. For her, innocence might have been bliss. Knowledge appears to hell.
But you’ll notice as well that the “crazy from grief” designation isn’t entirely accurate either. She’s got a lot of hate still for her country — conveniently never admitting that in many other places in the world they would have shot her the minute she began to speak out against the establishment. Not recognizing this fact isn’t circumstantially crazy — it’s just crazy. Period.
I’m sorry for you Cindy. I really am. But I do refer to you as crazy in my home and, fortunately for me, there are people in the world willing to fight and die to defend my ability to do so. Just as they did for you when you turned your rage at the death of your son onto the whole world. We let people do that here. And the best of us try to recognize it for what it is and not exploit it for our own selfish ends.
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My friend at work is playing a Jeff Buckley tribute Tuesday night at a club downtown (Taken from The Flagpole):
“JEFF BUCKLEY TRIBUTE”
(Tasty World Upstairs) Almost precisely 10 years after his drowning, the shadow of California’s Jeff Buckley has only grown longer thanks to the timeless quality of his striking voice. Tonight three local bands – Parasite Shoes, Blue Flashing Light and In the Lurch – pay tribute by performing Buckley’s songs, as well as perhaps some of their own. The evening also features an open-mic portion for those eager to try their hand at Buckley’s songs; all proceeds from tonight’s show go to benefit Lonely Instruments For Needy Kids.
I think I might try to go because a. It will be interesting to see my friend rock it out and b. I really like Jeff Buckley. As a matter of fact, one of my better writing pieces was about him. Man, I really used to be able to write when I was filing 5 stories a day on average and getting no respect. Now I get very little respect and file a story every two months or so. The pay’s better but I might be a bit out of practice.
I need to work on that.
Here’ my favorite Jeff Buckley song ever — may even be better than the original Leonard Cohen version and that’s a remarkable thing indeed.
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Okay I’m back and I think Rudy Giuliani beat the pants off the other Republican Presidential hopefuls in the South Carolina debate. I like Mitt okay, but Rudy just doesn’t brook inanity and I think Mitt might do anything at this point just to fit in. Rudy doesn’t care if he fits in. Personally, I’m good with that. People argue with me on this point. “He should want to fit in,” they say. “Knowing the needs of your constituency — of your people — is important and if you don’t care about fitting in then you’re not in touch with the people’s needs!”
God that sounds good, doesn’t it? It’s also a load of crap. You can be completely in tune with the needs of your constituency and not give a crap about your popularity. They are mutually exclusive. I don’t have time to explain it to you and wouldn’t try even if I did. Think about it for yourselves and you’ll see what I mean. But you have to really think about it — examine it, test it out, watch it in action — or you’ll fall back on the lazy, almost-logic of popularity = good leadership.
Whew! That said, Fox News has a great interactive little page on it’s website where all the candidates on both sides of the aisle are examined in terms of the pressing issues in this campaign. Go look now so that you’ll have a real handle on where they stand when the real mudslinging starts happening…
Then there’s this funny thing that my friend Steph sent me from this funny site
It’s my new desktop wallpaper at work.
Then there’s the Help Desk chart that makes me giggle.
And then there’s the book Zimmer finally is just making me read despite that fact that I’m afraid to read it because it’s post-apocalyptic and it will make me have bad dreams and feel sad. Zimmer does not take no for an answer and insists it’s a genius read (despite it being on the Oprah Book Club list, a fact we choose not to hold against Zimmer as his judgement is usually very keen and he can’t help it if Oprah got lucky in hers) so he brought it in and said “It’s a good read. And it’s got cannibals.” How can I turn that down? So The Road by Cormac McCarthy is next on my reading list.
And here’s me, the Noj and J.G.
What’s twisted about this picture is that
1. The Noj and Dan were just calling the little guy Yoda (“Strong he is.”)
2. We are laughing because the Noj is actively waking the munchkin up — something the munchkin disapproves of — so that he’ll sleep at night instead of during the day and the Noj and Mrs. the Noj can get some damn sleep. We are laughing at his discomfort. Sadism runs in the family.
Happy Friday yo!
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For all the times you didn’t hang up on me, lauded me for “dodging that bullet” (when all I thought I did was fail miserably), called me brilliant, stuck up for me when I was young and couldn’t do it for myself, stuck up for me recently when I couldn’t do it myself, worried about me but let me make my own decisions, and becoming a friend and confidant over and above being a mother. Oh, and for giving me life. I love you Mom. Happy Mother’s Day.
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I’ve always wanted to write a book. I just didn’t realize the book I’ve always wanted to write was written in 1957 by Ayn Rand and is called Atlas Shrugged.
It really chaps me that I was told by some very narrow-minded public school teachers that Rand was a greedy capitalist and that to enjoy her work meant there might be something deeply superficial about me. Because of these teachers I am just now discovering her genius. And it is genius. Unequivocably.
Thanks to my Help Desk mate at work who suggested the book and has been willing to listen to me rave on and on about it.
It’s strange I know, but while reading this book I get a feeling, for the first time in a very long time, that I’m not an anomaly in this world. Does great writing do this for everyone?
Congrats too to my school friends who are graduating. I send my hope for you along with you out into the world.
Feels like a Corona kind of Friday to me…
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It’s easy to forget sometimes that humanity is a bunch of animals. And I mean this quite literally. Our baser instincts are just like those of pretty much every other higher order species — eat, protect territory, survive. So it pretty much makes sense that we behave like predators when we see the weak and defenseless. Therefore I forgive you law student who followed me into my parking lot this morning, got out of your car and began to scream at me how my inability to drive was “genetic” (insinuating, of course, that because I’m a woman I can’t drive — never mind that you were following me so closely that I couldn’t see the headlights of your big ol’ SUV and so it kinda makes sense that when I brake to turn you might come pretty close to hitting me…). I forgive you because I’m pretty much weak this week and it shows. I’ve had car trouble, I’m exhausted from exams, I had a performance review at work, etc, etc. You were obviously just reacting as any good predator would when they smell blood in the woods.
But I did call the cops and they do have a description of you, your car — license plate and arrogant little law student sticker, et al — and a full report of the expletives your hurled at me while you were crossing the lot to come and assault — as a law student you should know that what you did constitutes assault — me at 8:15 am on a workday.
Try not to fret — I’m not filing a formal complaint. I’m sure you’re stressed with school and all — I am, too.
But if I ever see you again just know your get-out-of-jail-free card expires. I’ll nail your ass to the wall.
At least the French were smart enough not to elect a Socialist. That might even make up for the fact that apparently our next generation of lawyers can’t control their tempers.
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I come from good stock. Wanna know how I know? Cause my mom and I were chatting on the phone the other day and she got really excited because she had sent me an article from their local newspaper on this guy:
The most important reason that I wrote this book is that demeaning people do terrible damage to others and to their companies. And even though there are occasions when being an asshole helps people and companies “win,” my view is that if you are a winner and an asshole, you are still an asshole and I don’t want to be around you!
She single-handedly legitimized all the whining I’ve been doing for the last couple of years with this email. It is the grown-up equivalent of when she used to give me jello when i had a cold to ease my sore throat. I love you mommy.
Just starting to peek my head around regression analysis and the benefits of accountability in the public sector. Three small papers left to write and then I’m done for a few weeks. Glory, glory hallelujah.
At least it keeps me from worrying about this kind of stuff. Ya know, there are losers and then there are opportunistic, selfish, simple-minded cretins masquerading as human beings. They’re losers, too.
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