Do you think real love can last throughout any distance, or will long distance end most relationships?
Submitted by Miss Joy.
It depends.
At different times in most relationships I've had there has been some distance. In one case, the distance definitely helped to end the relationship. See, her plane was shot down, when she was flying back to see me. No, that's not a joke. In another case, I did what it took to close the distance. I soldmost everything, packed the rest into a broken Uhaul, and drove nearly 48 hours straight to literally fall on her doorstep. We're married, now. Sometimes she has to go places for her job. It's OK, so long as I know she's coming back, but because of my earlier experience, i gotta admit, it's tough, sometimes, to really know she's coming back.
I don't know about the people you see everyday, but the people I see every day talk about celebrities waay too much. I have a slightly different take on it than most, but hear me out: fame is a disease. Don't believe me? Imagine Heath Ledger was a mildly successful regional theater actor. Do you really think he'd be dead? Amy Winehouse is a girl who works as a telemarketer, and sings karaoke on the weekends. Do you really think there'd be video footage of her smoking rock cocaine? Let's say Michael Jackson was a backing dancer for Diana Ross. How much do you want to bet he'd still have his own nose? Do you really think Marlon Brando would've isolated his family to an island if he wasn't famous? If they weren't isolated like that do you think Courtney Love and Kurt Cobain would've stayed together?Would Angelina Jolie have turned to kiss her brother with an open mouthed kiss had she been raised in public schools as the daughter of an insurance salesman? See what I mean: this fame thing is a disease, and it turns people into disgusting monsters. So, while I do love the pop culture detritus that I gorge myself on, please don't confuse that for any kind of subscription to the cult of fame. I view Andy Warhol's famous dictum about fifteen minutes as a threat, kinda like "In the future, everyone you know will die".
I've got an odd relationship with the notion of boycotts. I can see the logic of metaphorically taking your ball and going home. Refusing to shop at Wal Mart or refusing to get your Pizza from one chain or another can make a certain kind of sense if you feel a certain kind of powerlessness. I suppose I boycott some things, but it's more superstition than outright political gesture. A good example is in Prescott Valley, Arizona, they had some overzealous cops. I was pulled over (and cited, though it was dropped in court) for driving 56 mph in a 55. I was forced to walk 15 miles home because a different cop thought that I must be drunk (when i hadn't had anything to drink) because I was driving at 1:15 AM, fifteen minutes after the bars closed. So, I boycotted driving in Prescott Valley. I didn't want the hassle, anymore. That's the kind of thing I mean. I know that it's kind of backwards thinking: expecting a future result based upon discrete, prior experiences, so I will readily admit it's a superstition. But, then again, a fair number of boycotts seem to be based upon gossip, which would be superstition's second cousin. Don't believe me? Here's one:
A few years back I had a pair of Birkenstock sandals. Some of my more liberal friends started to give me some trouble because they were "boycotting" birkenstocks, due to the company being owned by "nazis". I kinda looked at 'em quizically, and finally said "Well, if the nazis want to give me comfortable footwear, how bad can they be?" (I guess it never dawned upon them that my family includes survivors of the real holocaust. That's a sidebar: why always "nazis"? I think there's some subtle, and not-so-subtle racism in calling people who are attempting to be authoritarian "nazis"). But, even so, how many boycotts happen because of things just like that: somebody says that Proctor and Gamble are Satan worshippers because of an interpretation of their old logo, and evangelicals go nuts, and boycott. People say that Marlboro is owned by the KKK, and folks start smoking camels. It's just gossip.
There also is the kind of half-boycott I see people doing "I buy only locally made organic produce". Well, that sort of thing isn't a bad thing, per se, but I don't know if it's always the best thing. What if your local Organic farm is benefitting from Tax subsidies they got at the expense of welfare money? What if they're introducing pest plants that will choke out the local biodiversity? I think people should look at things in a more systematic way than simple decisions. There are times when they would be better off shopping at Wal Mart, and there are times when they'd be better off shopping at a farmer's market, and there are times when they'd be better off not shopping at all.
I don't understand the need for black hats and white hats, really, and i guess that goes to the heart of my quandry with boycotts: Certainly, there are some things that are evil and need to be stopped, but i have never heard of anything good coming from painting with too broad a brush....
My wife was already a fan, and I rather liked her story: Maya is a Tamil who was raised in various countries because her father was one of the Tamil Tigers and her mother raised her as a refugee. She first tried visual arts, reinterpreting terrorist propaganda, then, fashion design. Finally, she settled on Hip hop as a career. I just like how patternless that story is: from politics to citizenship, to Arts, to crafts, to commerce it doesn't really fit into a neat category.
But how's the music? Well, that's why this record, and not her first. This one is more interesting musically. It references early 1980's New Wave (New Order and the Clash, most prominently) and Zulu drumming, and Bollywood productions, and so on. Truly world music. The lyrics aren't always that smart, but there is some cleverness. Overall, it's more intriguing than beautiful. Call it a "B". I'm still not the biggest fan of Hip Hop aesthetics, but, I have to admit Paper Planes is a catchy song. (This is still better.)
Which one of your ancestors would you most like to talk to?
Submitted by Kathy.
I don't know. Probably whoever it was that came up with my umentionable last name. Also my great grandfather. He caused a lot of damage.
But, mostly, I'd like to have one day with my maternal grandfather, where we could really talk. He had throat problems, and I didn't get to see him too often, and would love to have even one conversation with him, man to man.
So, at work, I have been mailing checks. Thousands of them, actually. While doing so, I see the US Flag-on-a-stamp literally thousands of times. Tends to make me ruminate over it, you know what I mean? It's the Brand logo for this country, and I don't really read too much more into it. I realize that for some people any manifestation of the Stars n Bars is a deeply resonant symbol of all that is good. I just see as The US's version of the Nike swoosh. So,this got me thinking about brands and logos, and how we "read" them. I think we read them in a very primal fashion. They say that children know the Burger King logo before they know the letters of the Alphabet and that the Coca Cola logo is seen more times by more people than the sun, and maybe that's true, and maybe we're forgetting something even more primal, but ultimately, it seems to me like peasants in the middle ages getting their religion from stained glass, because they cannot read the book. Maybe that kind of visual representation is just as valid as the abstract process of words, as it predates the word: they're cave drawings, not cave poems. Maybe we're still evolving, and learning to "read" in a different way. I honestly don't know, but it's interesting to me that we embue anything with meaning at all.
On the other hand, clearly something has changed. I mean, have you see the flickr photos of the Detroit book repository? While I find the photos distressing, I cannot say they shock me. Maybe the kind of reading I prefer, the one with words and books is the aberration, after all....
Yes, any time i can reference Julio Iglesias, I think I should.
Anyway, I'm home sick, today. Third day in a row away from work: two days mostly at the Doctor's, now, a day at home. It's starting to make me introspective, and all that melancholy malarky.
So, I started thinking about people who aren't in my life. I even did a google search on a couple. As per usual, that got me wondering if they ever look for me. Yeah, that's a bit creepy: to think of somebody from my past spying on me. But, then I thought that there is a message I'd want to convey to them. Here's that message, and see if you can glean anything from it, as well.
Hello. I'm sure you have news, and that your life has some excitement in it. You might even want to share that news. Please don't. Yes, I still think about you from time to time, and chances are good that some of that thinking is positive. Heck, I might even still have some fondness for you, even if you never had any fondness for me. I'm funny like that. But, I don't want a relationship with you. Not right now, anyway. It's nothing personal, it's just the nature of life. It doesn't run backwards. We cannot go back, and there was probably a very good reason why we lost touch. I hope that your life is good, and full of things you want and need, so that you don't have any desire to talk to me. I'm hoping you're reading this with only mild curiousity, much like I might have seen your myspace, or twitter page with only a mild curiousity.
To satisfy that curiousity for you, let me say that I'm still very much like you remember me. If you remember me as a jerk, I'm probably still a jerk. If you remember me as a nice guy, I'm probably still that, too. I still have tendancies for dark, depressed moods, and angry, excitable moods, with plenty of silliness inbetween.
I still play my guitar. I might not play onstage, any more, but I still play my stupid little riffs, for my own amusement. I'm still passionate about politics, still lean libertarian left. I still find minutae fascinating. I still love to speculate about philosophy, and science and pop culture. I still wear my funny little fake chin in my goatee.
Some things might have changed. I have a bit more spending money that I might have had, but I still shop as thrifty as I can. Strange things still appeal to me. I'm older, and my health isn't as robust as it was when I was 30. But, I'm OK. I've got a few less hairs on top of my head, and a few of them that remain are grey. I'm a little better with the modern world. Heck, as I type on my blog, I'm playing a DVD in the background (The Fog of War).
I'm not alone. I've got a wonderful wife, whom I love very much, and a son who is smart and strong, and makes me proud, many times over. I've also got four cats, who make me laugh. I live in a little town, and have a few friends, here, and in other places. I work in Real Estate lending. I don't like my particular job, but I like the field. I drive a little Kia.
We've got furniture (mostly IKEA and vintage) and a four bedroom one bath house. We grow flowers and berries in the backyard. In general, we're like anybody else in America.
I hope that satisfies your curiousity. I hope all is well, and if I ever look you up, you're doing at least as well as me, but in your own way. Have a nice life.....
After today, it's what I think I'll refer to the health care system as, especially in Frederick, Maryland.
So, first I go to my usual Urgent care: I've got a back and abdominal pain, that feels like gallbladder, except I had that removed. The wait there was over three hours. I went back then next day. The wait was three hours. Today, I took off work, figuring that thelines wouldn't be so long on a workday. Wrong. Three hours. So, unable to handle the wait, i went to "Immediate care' which is the public health version of Urgent care. I wait for an hour. I finally see a nurse who doesn't know what's wrong with me, and has no equipment to find out. So, I'm sent to the Emergency Room. I have a bad feeling about this. After waiting for over an hour, during which time I watch a man have a heart attack, and a young lady's appendix burst, while they are waiting to be seen, I give up. I tell 'em that I'm either going to go to Virginia, or I'll show up to the ER at 3 AM, with my own burst appendix. But, unsatisfied, i drive over to my primary care physician, the guy who I know ain't the best, but might be able to see me. I now have an appointment to see him tomorrow. I'm pretty sure he's just going to order a catscan, and I'll find out in a week or more whether I'm going to live or die. in the meantime, I'm still in pain, still untreated.
I am middle class, with insurance. Go on, tell me that health care works in America. When I was in a third world nation, I could see a specialist within minutes of a problem developing. In Europe, the same deal. Our system is malpractice. Flat out malpractice. Our health care system will kill people. Whether by not getting the care they need, or by exposing them to hazardous chemicals, or by treating them improperly. All of this happens frequently.
But, do whatever you have to do: just get to a research hospital, like Hopkins. That's the only way you'll get any care at all.
Sorry about the format on that last post. I'm still teh suxxorz on Vox stuff.
