I'm living at my old house in Sturkie, and am planning a yardsale. Prior to the yardsale, I am going through my old things and giving away things to whoever wants them.
I open my closet, and inside is every shirt I ever owned, and some I saw in catalogs and liked, and some that didn't really exist at all but that I thought OUGHT to exist. And they're all somehow in mint condition.
In my bedroom are three groups of people, all waiting eagerly to see what shirts they get. They are a group of stereotypical nerds, Angie Dover (the homecoming queen my senior year in high school), and KORN.
Yes, KORN. The rock group.
And my shirts are all dividable into three categories: preppy/clothes that were popular or trendy at the time I had them, shirts with comic-book characters or mathematical equations on them, and black rock band/monster tees. One I remember was Frankenstein, Dracula, Nosferatu and Quasimodo in grey silkscreen, arranged like Mount Rushmore.
The thing was, I'd pull out, for instance, a preppy shirt and look at the size and say, "Who wears a Large?" And all the members of Korn would raise their hands. But if I pulled out the Monster Rushmore shirt and asked "Who wears a large?" Angie Dover would raise her hand. And if I pulled out a pastel Miami Vice shirt the same size, the nerds would raise their hands.
And if I pulled out the VERY geeky yellow T-shirt I got for my birthday in sixth grade with the picture of a guitar-playing crocodile on it with the caption "Croc & Roll!!!" shirt, and asked who wears a medium, suddenly all the members of Korn were now size medium.
I am a believer that dreams try to tell us things about ourselves, but for the life of me I can't figure this one out. Is it telling me I don't fit in anywhere? That I shouldn't judge people by their experience? What?
Imagine two or three thoughts, each encased in a ping-pong ball, trapped in a vat of cold molasses. When you want to express a thought, you have to reach in, move your hand around to find one, then grab it and try to pull it out. It takes a good five seconds sometimes to complete the process. That is my brain in the month or so surrounding the winter solstice.
Now imagine a hypersonice popcorn air-popping machine on crack, filled with THOUSANDS of ping-pong balls. You open the top to pull out a thought, and DOZENS fly out, and you have to crawl around on the floor and frantically look at each one, trying desperately to find the one you want. Once you do THAT, you have to corral all the others and put them back in the machine. It too can take a while to complete the process. From the outside, it can look very similar to my brain in wintertime, but from the inside, it is very different indeed. This is my brain around the summer solstice.
For instance, here are some of the things ping-ponging around inside my head right this very instant.
1. These three songs, all playing simultaneously at equal volume.
To approximate the experience, press play on all three. It doesn't really matter if you synch up the starts.
2. The word "month" should have a "u" in it, not an "o."
3. Why is it A "u," but AN "o"?
4. How I didn't put the lid back on the garbage can last Tuesday because it was an off-week for garbage bag use. Still, I SHOULD have put the lid back on, but it was never the PERFECT moment to do so, or if that moment DID happen, I missed it.
5. I don't understand the methodology for naming dinosaurs in the old LAND OF THE LOST. Spike, Emily, Dopey, Grumpy, Alice, and Junior seemed to apply to individuals, but Spot seemed to apply to ALL members of that particular species.
6. Marshall, Will & Holly repeatedly referred to the Sleestak as insectlike, when CLEARLY they were more reptilian. The only thing remotely insectoid about them was their eyes, and even THOSE were more spidery than insectlike.
Add to those the idea that I should change the name of this post to "The Summer Oranges," because what I'm experiencing right now is the polar opposite of the Winter Blues.
And the fact that "molasses" is a funny word when spoken. Not so much when written.
If you are unwilling to even splash water on or show a bug to an enemy willing to crash planes into buildings, you are bringing a knife to a nuke fight.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
I hate how the picture is too big for the screen on analog TVs on cable. They need a ZOOM OUT feature. Whose brilliant idea was this?
Someone should do an album of Beatles covers with a key word replaced w/ "egg". EGG EGG ME DO. CAN'T BUY ME EGG. SHE EGGS YOU YEAH YEAH YEAH. I AM THE EGGEGG...
What with all the "The needs (or in his case the WANTS) of the many outweigh the needs (or in his case the RIGHTS) of the few" positions, the similarities are definitely there.
So maybe he IS a Vulcan. Or at least he WAS, before he got assimilated and ascended the Hive Mind to the rank of Queen.
I don't know what's worse, that someone thinks deeply enough about the subject to write Sodomy & The Pirate Tradition, or that he found enough documentation on the subject to write a 215-page book about it.
I imagine the Cliff's Notes would go something like this:
"Many did, some didn't."
Arrgy, mateys!
Q: Why did Shirley Goodness get her dogs Justice & Mercy fixed? A: So there'd be no Mercy in Justice & no Justice in Mercy.
I wonder, if I leave it retracted and just listen to local stations and/or cassettes (yes, some of them still exist!), how much will it help my fuel mileage, if at all?
Radio stations say the artists get their fair share when their music is played over the radio free of charge, and people who like it go out to buy it. That could all change if a bill in Congress becomes law. The bill's proposed tax would make all radio stations pay every artist whom they play, on top of what they pay for licensing fees.
A lot of radio stations (maybe even most) would have no choice but to either fold up their tents or switch to a talk radio format. And since right-wing radio is more pervasive and more professionally-produced and more interesting, they'd likely choose that. Which, of course, would give the Obama administration an excuse to bring back the Fairness Doctrine.
Which may be their plan all along.
Friday, May 1, 2009
Obama expresses disdain for absolutes in announcing Souter's retirement. "It is never OK to kill 3000 innocent people by crashing planes into buildings" is an absolute.
If they ever make a musical of Waco, the part of Janet Reno should be played by Tim Curry.
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