“I like to think of Jesus as a mischievous badger.”
Sorry for the non sequitur, that’s a line from Talladega Nights and it just made me laugh when I came across it. Because badgers have been on my mind lately. You can think that’s weird if you want.
So anyhoo, someone gave me a hardcopy of the October issue of WSJ Magazine and it’s pretty much all about men — lots of pictures of male models, etc. Which, given my recent decision that I can start paying attention to that very neglected side of my life again, makes the gift just a happy thing to have around. It also makes me want to visit Scotland.
This right here just irritates the bejeezus out of me and makes me think that, in addition to needing the revenue, there’s probably another reason to charge people who use debit cards. I would think because it disincentivizes (is that a word?) their use, and incentivizes the use of actual credit cards. Now, where’s the benefit to banks in making people work off credit instead of semi-real-time transaction payments? I think I know but I’ll let you figure it out for yourselves because it’s good to do that. It’s called critical thinking…
I’m currently enjoying Stephenson’s “Reamde” and so this was a fairly fascinating piece he wrote on following through on the big stuff and how science fiction writers (shout out Ray Bradbury!) play a role in spurring innovation. Not to politicize the issue but I just can’t get away from the importance of spreading the word that bureaucratic regulation in the technology sector (ahem, net neutrality) will further undercut our ability to truly innovate and advance. And since so much of our work is communicated and facilitated online, this kind of regulation will affect all sectors of the economy, not just the technology industry. Anyway, here’s a quote from “Reamde” that I liked:
“Richard’s ex-girlfriends were long gone, but their voices followed him all the time and spoke to him, like Muses or Furies. It was like having seven superegos arranged in a firing squad before a single beleaguered id, making sure he didn’t enjoy that last cigarette.”
Watching horror movies is like watching zombie movies: if they’re well done, and you can get past the schlock and gore, you may see something that serves as a scathing indictment of humanity. Or, in the case of Shaun of the Dead and Zombieland, something tremendously funny and therefore satisfying. I’m no fan of horror gore but I’m willing to give this a shot in hopes that the latter proves true.
I got this from Andrew Sullivan because someone I know said I should be reading his column. And I did like this piece, quite a bit in fact. It is a topic that interests me — has always interested me. I am now, always was and forever will be, a hopeless romantic who believes in love. And people have tried to destroy that. They try it every day. I like that someone else is unafraid to be vulnerable enough to write about, admit to thinking about, and open about needing it. Because yesterday I had a phone conversation with my brother Dan and he reminded me that a pointless existence — one with no belief, active in its derision of hope, and shallow enough to not plan for a future — “That’s not enjoying life. That’s just passing the time,” Dan said — is a very unhappy one. Because without love we are clanging cymbals. And that’s a hard, sad sound with no melody and no harmony. Love you baby bro. Digressing…
Football was good this weekend, for both my teams. Our flag team struggles a little but we play hard. I swear had I been born a boy I’d be great at it because I’m just mean enough to be effective. Dang small hands. Also, I cry a lot because I’m a girl and Johnmire yelled at me (in a funny way) and said there’s no crying in football. Anyway, Joel McHale continues to please me.
Finally, have a laugh to start the week. You’re welcome.