Archive for May, 2012

Wait for it…

Man, I’m on pins and needles just waiting to get some statements out on the Edwards verdict. So, while I wait, statements queued up and ready to go, newsman blaring the latest updates, all I’m thinking about is going to the baseball game tomorrow with some of my boos and the double-header Saturday against Auburn and Vandy. I will say this: I haven’t felt this much like a reporter since 2001.

Anyway, until this situation wraps for the day — either because the judge points a disapproving finger and orders them back into deliberations, or they read the verdict (which is when things could get really interesting) — I have to just stay vigilant so I can’t talk to you peeps. But I’ll miss you…

Here’s what my colleague and an all-around cool lady thinks of the whole thing to read while you wait.

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Man, geeze. I sometimes wonder how I manage to get along in life at all because there comes a point where I just stop trying to be cool and I’m all, “Okay fine. You’ve stuck around long enough so let me introduce you to myself… .” I suppose there’s something to be said for those who make it that far. But sometimes I just want to be like, “I give up. Bill Maher’s a genius and I’m stunted in my understanding of comedy and I take a moral highground that is at once dangerous and irrational.” Until I remember: Bill Maher isn’t funny, smart, insightful, or interesting. He reminds me of an ex-boyfriend who wasn’t all that bright and so he resorted to shock tactics to get attention because he had nothing compelling to say. Maher isn’t all that funny so he talks about being gently masturbated by Michael Jackson. What do the kids say? Oh yeah, weaksauce. And, just because I find him repellent rather than funny, does not mean I don’t understand comedy nor that I’m holier-than-thou nun who can’t stand the thought of the dark shit that goes down in this world. It means quite the opposite in fact. As in, I think Maher is the one who could use a refresher course in both.

Photos, food, music, and the promotion of friends today.

You can make a trip to the waterfront and get the crab fresh! Yet another great thing about DC…

On the advice of the lawyers with whom I work (and call friends. Who knew I’d be hanging with a pack of lawyers and actually really liking them as people, eh Pops?) I watched this film this weekend. It was good. McConaughey’s not just a pretty face.

Old music that is new to me again and that I love so, so much. Jiggy Smaha, I will forever see you singing this with a cigarette in one hand and beer in the other…

I love that Norquist did this.

Have made my own special version of this in the past — so very easy to do — but I think I’m not the fan of leaving those shrimp heads on…

This one’s for you skate rats.

Sometimes I just have to return to things I love.

The first time I heard this song was when Johnny Cash covered it with Rick Rubin. The original is freakin’ beautiful.

A friend of mine has delved into sports writing and I think he’s pretty good at it. I know someone else I’ve been trying to get to consider doing this for awhile now but, ya know, what the hell do I know about anything…

A quote from the coach as he deals with some dingle who’s copped a ‘tude with him:

“If you’re the type of person that uses a position of pseudo-authority to bully people that you view as beneath you, my condolences on the size of your penis.”

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Stole this from Conan and present it here for no profound reason other than to maybe cause an involuntary laugh:

There’s an effort afoot to mitigate the feeling of self-pity for not traveling to the beach or down south for the long weekend. But rationalizations have been made of the following flavor:

1. – I’m exhausted. I just realized that I haven’t had a proper vacation since I moved here a little over two years ago. I’ve been working like a freak and it has finally (most noticeably yesterday) caught up with me. So, as traveling tends to be somewhat hurried and stressful rather than relaxing, and since Mom’s feeling some better and the panic button has been reset, I’m feeling okay about just making slow decisions about what I’ll be doing this weekend. And it may even involve just hanging out with myself. Although I have a few friends who have expressed some potential brunching or cook-out scenarios. And, as it turns out, another friend joins the Trotter in having a beach house (this one at Dewey) and the only stipulation is that I “bring girls.” I think I can survive that ghastly bridge for some beach time. There’s possibly a river floating trip in August and a possible jaunt to Florida – !!!!! — in September so, I’m feeling better about not having a plan and instead just tucking in for some much-needed rest.

2. – Quality of experience, not quantity, has become very important to me of late. I think it’s related to just getting older and less impressed by the flash. I don’t mind waiting for a helluva good time. If that means forgoing the surface good time, I’m good with that.

On that note, I’d like to own this print. It’s a good thing to have around.

The Coach turned me on to this guy (I don’t think he knows that but he did). I dig him.

This was really lovely. People that love each other are good, good things.

Enjoy the long weekend my people. We’ll talk and work things out later. And things will get better. Better and better. Always and forever, amen.

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Cell phone pic purge:

The alley roses are in bloom.

Tesla made a car and left it in our parking garage.

Amen my flock of seagulls

Pretty much my favorite thing in the world.

Holy jeeza pete I’m having a weird day. I just hope the rest of the week improves. It feels as though there’s a weird — um, force disturbance? — causing everything to sort of be fractured and fractious (thanks for that word Mom). I don’t like it. But I will vanquish it. Trust. It might take a while, but things will be smooth again. By hook or by crook.

Anyway, as I was sitting in church yesterday the Father giving the sermon mentioned that a group of atheists and secularists had taken out a full-page ad in the Washington Post recently calling Catholics to leave the church because it was immoral and evil, etc. etc. Ignoring for a minute that, if it’s true (I haven’t seen the ad), the thought of atheists using the word “evil” is hilarious, I find it fascinating that a group so adamant about wanting to be free of “religious” constraint to just live and let live would turn around and try to affect the hearts and minds of people living the way they want to live. That seems a bit dissonant cognitively to me. But hey man, whatevs. Spend your money how you see fit. But no one’s really all that confused by what’s going on here. Just remember: if you claim to espouse something and you sell those core principles so you can be favored in some way, you’re a hypocrite and kind of a ho. If you’re comfortable with that, carry on my wayward son.

As an aside, as I was cooling down from my run Sunday — always a pretty reflective 15 minutes or so walking sweaty through the alleys of my neighborhood — it occurred to me that one argument I always hear from atheists is that religion is just the opiate (thanks Marx? or was it Nietzche?) that brings comfort to the masses and that’s why man created and sanctions it. But as I was observing the world around me and thinking about the idea that it would be pretty interesting if our natural laws (read: physics) operated differently in different environments (read: off the planet) something hit me hard: atheists require the comfort of believing that everything works according to the laws they are sure exist and are universal and ineffable. And that sounds quite a bit like religious dogma. So, welcome to the pond Narcissus.

Excellence to the power of awesome. The Trotter sent this and was like, “I think we’ve had this exact conversation…”

This book is supposed to be crazy good.

So, a conversation occurred on Facebook recently where that song Call Me Maybe was featured and I was sad because I didn’t remember the conversation. The Coach tells me I was in the bathroom when the song came on Thursday at The Exchange and “err’body lost dey minds.” So, here’s the most awesome horrible song this year. It is infectious. Also, Harvard baseball players are ridiculously hot. I mean the dude with the cast? Come on, man.

Speaking of baseball players, I think the surgery worked. Looking forward to June 1st when I can see them play my boys. And I pray to God that no one tries to ruin it for me…

Finally, even though we’re ranked 6th (due to cancellations and starting the season late), we’re still considered the leader in our division. I hope we live up to the hype. If we play tight and not get too grouchy, we should.

Have a song I just have to listen to every once in a while to absorb and reassemble some of the disparate parts. If you like that show Portlandia, you’ll recognize one of these ladies…

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Hi. I’m only barely here today because the softball team got together for pretty much the first time this season at our sponsor bar last night and, well, we did what we do. I was home by 11 but today is still a little fuzzy. Weirdest part? we never even played. It was so strange. I’ll let the coach explain in a cobbling together of emails and comments. You should know, he’s only joking. But it did feel a little like the proles lining up outside the gates of Versailles looking for bread and being turned away. I’m just saying.:

“DC Dawgs first: Game canceled on account of the Secret Service. Apparently we set up too close to the White House. There are conflicting theories as to what happened. Some claim they saw Sasha and Malia in the back yard playing. I maintain that Obama’s hardened communist heart couldn’t bear to see people enjoying the American pastime outside of his window. So, you know, agree to disagree.”

In the end it was better for us because everyone was smashed together due to Mall construction and graduation festivities, etc. etc. So, it would have been kind of silly game against one of the the best teams in our division, Colorado. So, works out better. The Man’s evil plan has been foiled. (Just kidding Charlie, you big lib.) Props to the Secret Service guys who went in and retrieved our bases. Nice of you gentlemen. It saved The Coach from being arrested.

So, the day of rage has totally abated. It happens occasionally where I’m really just angry at myself for reverting back to my 12 year old self when I was pretty much forced to be a peacemaker (family dynamic. meh.) and am therefore a little stunted in the standing up for myself thing. It backs up on me sometimes. Then it goes away. I really appreciate people who try to understand it and refrain from judgment on it. I mean, it already feels like shit, man. Can I just get a break? Moving forward.

This is kinda cool. Here are my results. Not surprisingly I’m Aquinian. Although, I thought the Stoics might be higher on my list…

1. Thomas Aquinas (100%)
2. Aristotle (94%)
3. Epicureans (93%)
4. John Stuart Mill (87%)
5. Baruch (later known as Benedictus) Spinoza (83%)
6. Jeremy Bentham (73%)
7. St. Augustine (72%)
8. Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche (68%)
9. Ayn Rand (65%)
10. Cynics (56%)
11. Jean-Paul Sartre (52%)
12. Immanuel Kant (52%)
13. Prescriptivism (52%)
14. William of Ockham (49%)
15. Plato (42%)
16. Stoics (41%)
17. David Hume (37%)
18. Thomas Hobbes (31%)
19. Nel Noddings (25%)

Some friends of mine. Go get em Mrs. Hallissey.

Stolen from a gchat person. “Grief Bacon” is bloody brilliant.

All kinds of fun. I love low-rent, creative awesomness like this.

Well hey.

Along those same lines, if you tend to be a sockless kind of kid in the summer (as I am) then these tips are fab, stinky feet.

Pretty sure I’m going to own this soon.

Having trouble feeling bad for this dude.
Seriously, maybe keep the pony in the stable for a little bit. Or, put a raincoat on it. Just a thought.

Have been revisiting this album. I pretty much love every song and since this one is about dancing (which isn’t usually about dancing if you know what I mean, hey, hey) have some. I’m going to meet my friend Ash here for a martini after work with one of my workmates. If I can stay awake that long…

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Whoa. I have been in a dark mood today. Not sure if it’s the weather or the inanity and shark jumping at high levels of government or a general irritability because I couldn’t sleep last night thinking of all the times I should have said something to people who’ve been unkind to me and now it could be too late to resolve some of these things but I’d very much like to if the opportunity arises but I’m really still kind of angry and anger turns out to be useful as a means to stave off sadness but not useful toward resolving conflict with loved ones. You know it’s bad when your sentences approach a run-on status that would make a Welsh country town proud. Anyway, until the Pigpen cloud of dust dissolves, here’s something good that illustrates the general mood but is also funny. There will be less pitiful grousing later this week…hopefully…

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Spring fever people. I’ll be leaving work here in about 15 minutes to go play some softball on the Monument Grounds and then heading over to U St./Adams Morgan for some graduation celebration. So, really, there’s not much else on my mind.

But, I did come across a really cool excerpt from one of my CS Lewis books that is pretty well the explanation I’m giving to every atheist I meet from here on in:

“‘One word, Ma’am,’ he said, coming back from the fire; limping, because of the pain. ‘One word. All you’ve been saying is quite right, I shouldn’t wonder. I’m a chap who always liked to know the worst and then put the best face I can on it. So I won’t deny any of what you said. But there’s one thing more to be said, even so. Suppose we have only dreamed, or made up, all those things — trees and grass and sun and moon and stars and Aslan himself. Suppose we have. Then all I can say is that, in that case, the made-up things seem a good deal more important than the real ones. Suppose this black pit of a kingdom of yours is the only world. Well, it strikes me as a pretty poor one. And that’s a funny thing, when you come to think of it. We’re just babies making up a game, if you’re right. But four babies playing a game can make a play-world which licks your real world hollow. That’s why I’m going to stand by the play-world. I’m on Aslan’s side even if there isn’t any Aslan to lead it. I’m going to live as like a Narnian as I can even if there isn’t any Narnia. So, thanking you kindly for our supper, if these two gentlemen and the young lady are ready, we’re leaving your court at once and setting out in the dark to spend the rest of our lives looking for Overland. Not that our lives will be very long, I should think; but that’s small loss if the world’s as dull a place as you say.'”

And, Spring music that’s great to bounce around to in perfect weather.

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