Monday, June 28, 2004

George W. Bush, Will You Please Go Now?!

George W. Bush, Will You Please Go Now?!
"But if nothing else, the film made one thing very clear to me: For all the talk about how much Michael Moore hates America, he actually loves this country very, very much. He loves it enough to decry the way the Bush administration is curtailing its freedoms, to be outraged at police being sent to 'infiltrate' peace groups full of cookie-baking middle-aged liberals, to empathize with both the soldiers who don't have any idea what they're doing in Iraq and the parents who don't have any idea why their children died over there. Moore loves America very much, he just doesn't like what Bush is turning it into, and it says a lot about the Moore-haters out there that they automatically equate his opposition to Bush with hatred of our country. We've said it before, and we'll say it again -- there is a substantial portion of people in this country, and more importantly of people in power, for whom the welfare of George W. Bush is the first priority and the welfare of the American people comes second. Moore shouldn't be the least bit ashamed of himself for not being one of those people."

Well put.
I don't really have blogging time now, but ever since seeing "Fahrenheit 9/11," I've been bursting with just about every emotion everyone else in the nation should be bursting with now- anger, frustration, amazement, sadness . . . and I have to say that I left the theatre feeling more patriotic than ever just because I knew that the film wasn't an attack on America, it was a plea for the restoration of America's welfare.

I turned on the TV today to see Bushy prematurely turning Iraq over. Not two days premature, of course . . . like, eleven years premature. It's like that bully technique- the "break and give-back." You know it. You grab someone's colored pencils, step on them and give them back. "I believe this belongs to you."

We broke Iraq and now we're handing it over. I wish I had more hope. I wish I felt better about this. I saw the President on TV saying that old line about how Sadaam tortured his own people. Who writes this guy's stuff? You'd think any idiot with an English degree and experience in PR would say "ix-nay on the orture-tay," given the fact that there have been so many public example of torture on our part. I mean, come on. "He brutalized and tortured his own people" . . . and we said, if anyone's going to be doing the torturing around here, it's gonna be US!

And then we have Dick Cheney telling people to go f*&k themselves on the floor of the Senate. Hm. Is it just me, or is this entire administration descending to the level of 6th grade bullies, prickly, defensive, mean-spirited, but in the end, deeply insecure about the future? I hope it's just me . . . but in some ways I doubt it.

Doubt and hope are enemies . . . but it seems like I've never had such abundant quantities of both.

Moore is no more representative of the entire Left than Ann Coulter is representative of the Right, but I've got to say it's pretty amazing that the line to see F911 was out the door (literally). It was pretty amazing the uproarious laughter, audible tears, and thunderous applause that the movie provoked among the audience I sat with at the matinee. I left the theatre thinking, you know, I will honestly be very, deeply surprised if Bush wins again. There was no fire in the last election, nothing more at stake than some tax laws . . . but this time, we left the theatre like people escaping Plato's cave. It hurt like hell to know just how awful the war is, just how corrupt the administration is . . . it hurt, but it's so much better to know.

Tuesday, June 22, 2004

Baby time . . .

Amy had her baby, apparently kind of a rough delivery, but pregnant women are like Volvos. Hardly built for speed, but rugged as hell. She'll be OK. The baby's name is Ava Elizabeth and she weighs about 8 pounds. I'm sure she's beautiful and tough . . .

Of course, if you hear Val tell it, they were both at death's door. But that's Val.

I'm amazed that babies are ever born at all sometimes. It just seems like such an ordeal, so much left to chance. But then, there are a billion people in India, where most everyone lives below the poverty line, and they just keep having babies. It's pretty amazing when you think of it.

I've got tons to do, so light blogging (probably for the next 3 months).

Thursday, June 17, 2004

Whatever happened to Ayman Al-Zawahiri?

I can't seem to find any news source anywhere saying what happened after the great big "We Have Him Surrounded" media blitz of March. Did he come out wearing a flak jacket and a rocket pack and he just slipped away?

I'd like a little closure on this. I'd like to know if the president everyone is touting as the best weapon we have against further terrorist attacks had the guy under a tupperware and somehow let him go. Or if he's in cold storage until oh, around October.

Wednesday, June 16, 2004

curiouser and curiouser


Name / Username:

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Tuesday, June 15, 2004

NADA Appraisal Guides - Get a Value -

NADA Appraisal Guides - Get a Value -
Dropped the price today to 4500. Getting desperate.

Called the grandparents yesterday, not exactly the supportive conversation I'd hoped for.
Not that I had any reason to expect different, but hey, I'm 22, I'm too young to expect the worst from people.

So I'm wanting it gone, big time, can't wait to sell. I just want to like driving again. I don't like feeling like the car is punishing me for being a bad kid or an inappreciative little brat. Still, with 4500 I'm a little more than halfway toward a convertible. Maybe this will blow over, maybe it won't. Maybe I don't care enough to have them think I'm not an inappreciative brat. Maybe I'm almost glad I don't have to pretend that they were true, cozy, storytelling grandparents my whole life. Thank you, guys, for relieving me of the burden of our fake relationship. Life should be easier now.

Wrote a review today, which was nice, to write, to get something in under my name. I imagine I will be going on hiatus big time while Amy is out. Metamorphoses was a good show, and I was glad to write a good review for it. There's really no reason to find little missteps in something that is good in the big picture. Which is something I've learned to apply to most situations. I won't be judged for having sold a white elephant that is leading me down a primrose path to destitution. I am not a bad person because I don't want to drive a 30-year-old behemoth. I'm a person making the very best out of a really lousy, rock/hard place situation.

Woo! Fahrenheit 9/11 is coming to a theatre near . . . ME!
The Landmark Crossroads 6, in Boulder, will show it June 25. Rock on. Although I'd better bring a container, because the combination of several consecutive smirking chimp scenes with theatre popcorn will probably induce vomiting.

Lately the news has actually been making me physically ill. Didn't some lady sue because Janet Jackson's boob made her queasy? Maybe I've got something there. Sell the car and sue Halliburton for making me literally sick at the very mention of its name. Hey, they've got cash to spare. Then I could get a new car.

Bleh, what a screwed up world we live in.

Monday, June 14, 2004

yeah, i wish . . .

Va-Va-Voom! You're inner Bombshell is Mae West.
You've definitly got a lot of wit, a lot of
smarts, and you know how to use people to your
advantage. Ever heard the phrase "doesn't
take any crap from anybody"? Well that's
you! Just like Mae you never want to settle
down, and can't imagine being with just one man
for the rest of your life. You don't care about
conventions and have no filter from your brain
to you mouth. Check out the movie "She
Done Him Wrong" to see your inner
bombshell in all her voluptuous glory!

Who is your inner bombshell?
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I would be Mae West in my wildest wildest dreams . . .
who knows where that came from.

Wednesday, June 09, 2004

Tired of myself, tired of this town . . .

Some people enjoy seeing people they went to high school with on a semi-weekly basis. Some people like seeing their middle school teachers mowing their lawns on the weekends. Some people like going to the same places they went when they were teenagers, when they are no longer teenagers . . .
But then, some people like driving minivans and watching reality TV, too.

I think I'm just about done with Longmont, but moving seems like such a daunting proposition at this point. The thought of finding another job, finding another apartment, finding a new gynecologist- these are not things I really want to do. There is something to be said about the comfort of the familiar. But there's something to be said about when you stop being comfortable, when you are on your own and feel a little vulnerable but at the same time stronger than ever.

I guess after four years of moving every 9 months you start to get a little antsy after a year. And it has been a year since my graduation.

I am obligated to the TC for a year. Through February. It seems very far away right now. I can't believe I was at Leopard for twice this long. Time goes by a little slower here, I feel.

The feeling is different from at Leopard. There, it was boredom and the feeling of my soul being slowly sucked away . . . here, it's boredom and anxiety of what's to come- when is Amy leaving? When do I take over? Is this really a promotion? How long will I have to wait just to get writing again? I worry about getting rusty, about getting too comfortable in my life and just giving up.

Unlike Val, who worries about the Laci Peterson Murder Trial and other people's business. Honestly, I don't worry that much about stupid shit I can't change, but I do worry about the things that I *can* change. Or, to be more to the point, I worry about the things that I can screw up. Like my career and my finances.

I had a dream one night that I sold the Cutlass and was able to buy a little convertible of undefined make for much less than the selling price of the big car. I packed my belongings (although who knows how I fit all my worldly goods into the convertible- ah, dream logic) and hit the road and drove a long long time across the prairie to a big city, where I got a music critic job and a great life . . .

If only it were so easy.

I've got until February to choose, I suppose, what will happen next. And until September to figure out what will happen after Amy gets back. The managing ed seemed rather surprised to find out that I wanted a newsroom job, and seemed, to me, a little excited. If I can prove myself as an office manager and copy editor, who knows what lies ahead . . .

I've often thought of life as that stretch of highway that runs from Flagstaff, Arizona to Los Angeles. At the end is a sort of paradise, but between here and there are adventures and stories to be told. And as any student of life will tell you, it's what you learn on the journey that's important.

The New York Times > Opinion > The Roots of Abu Ghraib

The New York Times > Opinion > The Roots of Abu Ghraib: "
I think I've said it before, but I will reiterate:
I am glad that one of the largest, most widely distributed newspapers in our nation is still allowed to say things like this. It's these op-ed pieces that keep us on this side of an Orwellian onestate, and thank god for that.

Tuesday, June 08, 2004

McSweeney's Internet Tendency: Reasons to Dispatch Bush

McSweeney's Internet Tendency: Reasons to Dispatch Bush
"This is an impressive crowd — the haves and the have-mores. (Laughter) Some people call you the elite. I call you my base."

--President Bush, 2000 Al Smith Fundraising Dinner

*stomach turning as I realize many people still think of this moron as a "man of the people"

I'm Heroin Bob.

Heroin Bob
You are Heroin Bob!

Which SLC Punk are you?
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The New York Times > Washington > Legal Opinions: Lawyers Decided Bans on Torture Didn't Bind Bush

The New York Times > Washington > Legal Opinions: Lawyers Decided Bans on Torture Didn't Bind Bush
"A team of administration lawyers concluded in a March 2003 legal memorandum that President Bush was not bound by either an international treaty prohibiting torture or by a federal antitorture law because he had the authority as commander in chief to approve any technique needed to protect the nation's security."

Or, as Nixon once said, if the President does it, it's not against the law.

Sickening . . . just sickening.

Thursday, June 03, 2004

Stem cell job

My stem cell job. It is an embryonic job that can grow into anything. But I have been offered the job of office manager- not exactly the one I had hoped to be offered. It would be temporary . . . but then what?

I'm just not sure. I don't know what I want to do with my life just yet, really, but I'm reasonably sure I don't really want to be an office manager. I'm always erring on the side of safety, but I wonder what the consequences will be if I do that this time.

Won't someone PLEASE buy my car? I hate it and want it gone . . . it locked up on me yesterday and I'm nearing the point where I'll have to put another $40 worth of gas in it. I don't even care that much right now about what kind of car I get next time, I just want it to not have an addiction and not die on me in parking lots.

Feet: clean, reliable transportation.

And, I'm still thinking of Crete. Crete is close to Lebanon. And Israel. It would be a grand adventure, no doubt . . . but so many things would have to happen if I got this job. I'd have to get a visa, probably. I'd have to work out my living situation, move out of my apartment, etc . . . but first of all verify that this is a legitimate company in the first place. It's such an exciting notion, flying off to another country, but when one gets down to the nitty gritty details (like, where do I send my tax paperwork?) it seems like a big fat ordeal. Liz and I discussed how the Peace Corps is nice that way-it's all a packaged deal, so you don't have to think about silly little things.

But- here's the kicker- the job in Crete is secretarial. But I'd be on Crete.

Dilemma . . .

Wednesday, June 02, 2004

Fun with bad syntax

From an obit sent in today:

After returning from the war Jack married Eleanor K. Ekx in Longmont on April 23, 1950. They made their home here in Longmont. Jack went to work with his father at the Bob Hamill Farm Supply, until his death. He then went into partnership with his uncle Roy McCall owning and operating the Nash Auto Dealership in Longmont.

Apparently, in the highly stagnant world of farm supply, one might not expect a promotion until after one's death.

Over the wine-dark sea, gray-eyed Athena . . .

Okay. So I did a crazy little impulsive thing and sent an email to a man hiring a secretary for the Olympiad of the Mind program. The job would be in Crete.

Now, with a name like Cassandra (Greek: Helper of Men, Disbelieved by Men, Prophet of Doom) I can't help but be a little obsessed with all things Hellenic. Or post-Hellenic like the Greek Soccer Team and Gyros. Mmm. Gyros.

This morning I received a note from Mr. Haidemenakis himself, very cordially asking me to submit my information as soon as possible for the position. Have you ever been to Crete? he asked . . .

So now I'm just trying to sort things out- here is the opportunity of a lifetime. Also an opportunity to have to spend lots of money to get over there (If I were to stay for the full year my airfare would be reimbursed up to 600 Euros). Also an opportunity to have an adventure of the kind you don't get to have once you have mortgages, kids, etc.

The kind of adventure only single 20-somethings have the luxury to accept.

There are all the practical considerations, like how I don't speak a word of Greek, like how I informally promised to stay on at the TC for a year, how I'll have to sublet my apartment and move all my stuff someplace else (the job will include housing and board, much like Lizzie had in Yellowstone). Bottom line is that I am probably going to send my CV and my information to Haidemenakis but I will have a lot of stuff to consider if I am accepted.

In the meantime, I keep thinking about my life here. Today on the police scanner, a complaint was filed by a woman who thinks her neighbor's hot tub motor violates the noise ordinance. I have got to get out of this town . . . but is it wise to get out of this country?

Tuesday, June 01, 2004

Born to be blog

I'm not running on all cylinders today, to be sure. So no Sedaris-esque observational humor is to be had- I'll be lucky if I can pull off anything funnier than a Viet Nam film festival today.
I wasn't even in a bad mood today and Val pissed me off. The day before I left for Iowa, she had made all these promises to a representative for a local nursing home, saying she would make sure that an engagement and wedding between two elderly residents of the home would be covered and given reporter and photographer coverage. I tried to gently say that neither could be guaranteed, but Val was adamant. Not that she has ANY jurisdiction over these things.
So of course the City Editor said no, no story, there's no room, and we need to scale back on human interest stuff considering the upcoming elections, yadda yadda. Stuff I tried to say before.
So I didn't feel bad at all when Val was all steamed when one of her Ebay purchases came in the mail. She'd made an attempt at ordering a spoon ring- one of those rings made from the end of an antique spoon. Instead, in the mail, was a receipt for $13.95, and an advertisement from a 1961 magazine featuring a picture of a spoon next to a ring, some early, Kennedy-era advert for a silver pattern, using a wedding ring in its graphics. Ha. She spent $13.95 on a piece of 40-year-old paper.
I told her she needed to pay more attention, to be sure she knew what she was getting, and laughed to myself. Ignorant people are funny.
Gotta go- 6 o'clock, and time for laundry and queer eye. Fun!