Hi friends. Been off the grid for a few days so time to pour it out…for my homies.
But really, I have 8,000 things to do this afternoon — not the least of which includes finally getting my Christmas cards in the mail. I’m a leeeetle off my game this year. Unforeseen distractions. My bad. — before I can go for a quick run to decompress and then get back to watching House of Cards. So I’ll try to keep this short. But a word on HOC:
Much like Game of Thrones, this show has me completely depressed and yet totally captivated. I hate it. It’s brilliant. Kevin Spacey never fails to impress. How you can actually kind of like the twisted, evil character he plays is so compelling. I can’t look away. And it’s not as cut and dried as Breaking Bad, where Walt had the excuse of cancer to justify his behavior (at least initially). No, Spacey’s Frank Underwood has no excuse. He’s just a genius manipulator who seeks power (not money, as he makes clear early on in the series) and figures, since he’s so good at it, he may as well do it. His wife, Claire, seems to be the morality play within the play, as she struggles with actual FEELINGS (I feel ya lady. Pun intended). But Frank…whoa. And yet…when he’s hanging with his hometown buddies or frequenting the seedy side of DC to get his fix of some South Carolina-like ribs (I can relate. I thought nobody fried okra up here, which was a staple of my school lunches growing up. And then I found Oohh’s & Aahh’s.), you kinda actually sorta dig him. And yet he’s repulsive. It probably helps that 8 of the 10 exterior shots are places I’ve either been or know exactly where they are. And that the hungry little reporter character sort of reminds me of a me I was several years ago (but not anymore. And that’s a tremendously good thing.) Anyway, I’m fascinated.
On a similar note, this profile of Harry Reid is so worth the read. It was something I was never prepared to address before I moved here — the meanness of the “outwardly meek, bland figure [with] cutthroat ways”. Men like Reid have never bothered me much until I moved to a place where the culture allowed — even encouraged — their complete metamorphosis into sociopaths, at least as far as their political will is concerned. Many people only behave well because their immediate surroundings dictate they must or be shunned from polite society. Certain sectors of DC carry no such mandate. So those who teeter on the edge of having a miniscule appreciation of morality are free to explore the ways to be conscience-less. Cue fear and loathing. And yet…a devout Mormon. But then, Elmer Gantry is a literary archetype for a reason.
This piece, and I feel bad for saying it, seems almost autobiographical. And that’s sad because it doesn’t have to be that way. You can find the meaning if you choose to.
God I’m so glad someone’s finally writing about this. “Drugs as babysitter” has been troubling for 20 years or so. Now let’s talk about how people are taking head meds for freaking restless leg syndrome and God only knows what else. The side effects always remind me of this:
I don’t know if y’all read Something Awful — and ex-boyfriend of mine turned me on to it — but lately I’ve been listening to all the music that thrashes and I remembered I liked one song by that band System of a Down and was poking around the internet trying to see if there was anything else they did that appealed to me and I came across this and lost my mind. Laughing so hard. And I dedicate the above paragraph to Lord Somber, because I know he’s going to read the article and cry laughing.
Now for music that doesn’t suck. Charles contends this version is superior to the later, frequently misquoted version. I tend to agree.