Via Degrees of Divinity, a side-splitting blog written by a cat. It's a cheesy concept, but the execution is sheer genius:

al lot of people wrote to me over the weekend and that was nice for one things are better bad dasys happen you know that and I found something behind the stove that I ate and things got better

Tuesday, September 09, 2003
isn't it funny when people meow to you
peopel who don't really know what it means I mean

today somebody told me that he had Shoes on his nOSe
and outside there were Elphants and a comb
and that five years ago he went to tuna school
all I wast rying to tell him was that there was something floating in the watardish

my feeling is that If you dont' know the language then you should not speak it
posted by Abbie the Cat at 8:11 AM

EXTRA EXTRA READ ALL ABOUT IT
i threw uptoday
response teams were on the scene within MInutes and it got cleaned up

I took a career interest test-thingy on the web and was delighted with the results:

Crystal, based on your career personality, the Right Job for you is an:

Psychologist
Computer systems analyst
Chemist
Airplane pilot
Flight engineer
Veterinarian

I'm always pleased when the results of these things match up with what I really want to be. I've taken many of these kinds of tests over the years, and the two occupations that pop up over and over are chemist and programmer.

According to the test, my "career personality type" is Analytical/Creative.

Primary Classification -Analytical-

As an Analytical type, your inquisitive nature helps you enjoy the complexities of life. You understand that sometimes there are no clear right and wrong answers, and that's okay with you because you tolerate gray areas better than most. In fact, pondering potential outcomes can sometimes be more interesting than coming up with the definitive solution for you. You march to your own drum and enjoy being in charge more than working and compromising with others. Nothing escapes your keen observational skills, and thinking is your idea of fun.

Secondary Classification -Creative-

As a Creative type, your ability to look at the world with a fresh perspective keeps life interesting for you and those around you. Instead of following the trends, you want to set them yourself. Establishing a routine is not your goal; you would rather go with the flow and see where your mood takes you that day. You love seeking new experiences and sensations. Your sensitive nature is often turned inward, but your passionate nature also means that you are prone to be impulsive at times.

Once again, I'm pleased at how well this describes me.

I definitely don't want to be an architect. I don't know why; it just doesn't appeal to me. I wouldn't want to be a veterinarian either. I can't handle blood and guts.

I think it's interesting that airline pilot and flight engineer are on there. I wanted to be a pilot when I was a little kid, and even when I was working as a flight attendant I flirted with the idea of becoming an airline pilot. I liked working in the cabin, simply because I love flying and being in the air. But I enjoyed being up in the cockpit even more. I would go up there every chance I got, looking at the stars and the landscape, listening in on the headphones, looking at all the instruments and switches and asking what every one of them was for.

I think I'd be a good psychologist, too. I'm pretty good at listening, or at least I can be. And I'm good at asking questions, drawing people out, helping people arrive at solutions to problems.

I've thought about working with computers, and while I think I would enjoy it and be good at it, it doesn't sound thrilling to me the way science does.

I'm planning on going back to school and getting a masters degree in Biochemistry. When I tell people this, they look at me like I've grown a second head, but it really just feels like the right choice. I loved chemistry in high school, and was good at it, too. My favorite classes in school were always the ones that involved solving problems; chemistry, logic, music theory, linguistics.

Sometimes I get upset with people, because I think there's still a huge gender bias against women in science, and people are not even aware of it. When I tell people I want to study biochemistry, they're like, "why do you want to do that?" They always seem so incredulous. But if I were to tell people I wanted to be a lawyer or a writer or a teacher or musician, I bet nobody would react that way.

I hate it, too, when people warn me about how hard it is. That's why I want to do it! I do better at things that are difficult than things that are easy. My brain needs a challenge; otherwise I go crazy. I think maybe it's hard for people to picture me as a scientist because I seem so flighty. I am, but I'm also capable of focusing very intensely for long periods of time, especially if I'm solving a problem or working on something that interests me.

I took an IQ test, too, just for fun, and I scored in the 90-100th percentile in three areas: language, math, and visual-spatial intelligence. (it was only broken down by tens; maybe they don't want to make the less-than-average people feel bad?) I was in the 80-90th percentile in logic (which was a bit of a surprise; I always thought my logical thinking skills were top-notch). I don't know if people doubt my intelligence, but when they question my desire to study science, it seems like that's what they're doing. I know I'm smart enough to excel at it, but it's nice to have a little statistical validation in the form of the test.

HR called me back today and I have an interview set up for 2:00 this afternoon. I'm interviewing for a position in Bank Central; I'd be taking calls from customers and helping them with their accounts.

I found out that the maximum pay down there is $12 something an hour - so, $24,000 - $25,000 a year. Right now I'm making a little over $29,000, so this represents a substantial cut in pay.

I'm terribly undecided now. The job I'm in is not the ideal job for me; but then again, it's not like going downstairs to Bank Central is the ideal job either. However, the hours suit me better (10-7 instead of 8-5) and I think I'd enjoy the work more. Even though it has the potential to be stressful and a bit relentless, I'm very very good at dealing with customers. At least, I think I am. I think I was pretty good at it when I was a flight attendant.

If I just had the one boss to deal with (i.e., my "good boss"), I'd stay up here without even thinking about it. But it's pretty clear to me that my other boss wants to see me go. I think he might have even called HR to speed the process along.

I just posted two comments, one on Lane and Tina's blog, and one on Chuck's, and both my literary masterpieces just vanished into the ether because Typepad is "down for maintenance." I expect this kind of thing from Blogspot, but not from Typepad. Naughty Typepad, naughty!

I almost never jump on blogging bandwagons (e.g., changing the name of my blog to "Fair and Balanced,"). I don't know why, I just don't.

However, on this "Talk like Bill O'Reilly Day," I do wish I knew how to talk like Bill O'Reilly, which Atrios and his commenters have been doing all day, because damn, is it funny.

I loved Fight Club when I first saw it four years ago. It's the story of an ennui-riddled corporate drone, living in a "filing cabinet for old people and young professionals," who abandons his Ikea lifestyle for a life of subversion and sabotage. The movie culminates with the spectacular destruction of eight corporate towers, the headquarters of credit card companies and credit reporting bureaus. I cheered inwardly when I saw the buildings collapse.

One of Fight Club's themes is the lack of purpose suffered by our generation. In a basement speech to a throng of shirtless men, Tyler Durden pronounces, "We are the middle children of history, with no purpose or place. We have no great war, or great depression. The great war is a spiritual war. The great depression [dramatic pause] is our lives."

I still like Fight Club, but it is so obviously a product of the boom-boom nineties. The house of cards that is the American economy is collapsing, folks, and guess what? We may get a great depression for real.

Now maybe the signs of trouble around us are nothing for us to trouble our little heads about. Sure, middle-class Americans are losing their jobs and livelihoods at an alarming rate. Sure there are more Americans in perilous debt than there ever have been. It's true that we no longer manufacture much in America, that we mostly sell services to one another, but hey, that's just because our economy has evolved, right? Oh wait, now those service jobs are also being shipped overseas. But the economy is going to rebound any day now, right? All we need are more tax cuts, right? Right???

I see essays like this, and, while anecdotal, they make it hard not to worry.

My neighbors in the middle-class town where I live all know our plight; several of them have confessed they are headed down the same path or are watching family members slide into bankruptcy and ruin. I wait to pick up my daughter outside her elementary school playground with the other parents; we mill on the blacktop. Folks I barely consider nodding acquaintances sidle up to tell me about food banks, lunch vouchers, clothing exchanges. It seems there is this great open secret, how broke so many of us are, and how frightened we are of where it will end.

In between our gigs, we continue our search for anything better, the elusive job that will surely save us. I scan the papers and job Web sites and send out new résumés with the euphemism "customer service skills." Every evening after the children are in bed, Andrew starts his second job -- looking for work. It makes sense that I would have trouble finding gainful labor in a down economy when I was in direct competition with folks much better suited to the positions available, where being a stay-at-home mother had kept me out of the marketplace. But that doesn't apply to my husband. He was in the midst of a well-connected, cutting-edge world, in the eye of the technology maelstrom and then suddenly he wasn't. It's like watching someone try to get back on a wave when the sea has gone eerily calm, horrifyingly silent.

Sometimes I wonder if I am overly credulous.

Oh dear.

There is a very precocious, very anguished 11-year-old girl out there reading my blog.

It certainly puts things in perspective. Things are so hard at that age, and they only get harder, 'til about, oh, 18 or so.

There is so much I want to tell you, Ashley!

First of all, hang on. Things will get better. It may seem hard to believe, but life gets so much better as you get older. Even though I've been suicidally depressed lately, I still think my life is better than it was when I was a young'un. For a smart person like you, Ashley, life is going to be absolutely amazing. There is so much richness and excitement and joy to be had. You may have some bleak years ahead of you in school, but that's okay. Just forge ahead. Being smart is a wonderful wonderful thing. You may feel like an outcast now, but as you grow up and you get to choose what you do and who you spend your time with, you are going to find that life can be more wonderful than you ever imagined. You will marvel at yourself, that you get to be who you are, and wonder that you ever got so lucky.

When I was in college, I used to wish that I could go back and console my younger self, let her know just how cool and interesting everything was turning out to be. How cool and interesting I turned out to be.

Think of the years ahead of you as a crucible. It may be difficult, but you're going to come out of it with so much creativity, so much wit and resourcefulness. As you get older and meet more people, you're going to have wonderful, amazing friends just like yourself, people who are filmmakers and artists and writers and musicians. You'll have wonderful times together, going on trips and making movies and going to each others' parties and having intricate, rambling, hilarious, nuanced, allusive conversations late into the night. You'll be able to get absolutely silly and stupid among these geeky, brilliant, hilarious and kind people. You will meet people with whom you feel deeply connected, and you will marvel that you ever felt so sad.

It's so, so hard to be young and feel alone and feel like you want to die. I've been through it. My depression came on big-time when I was fourteen, but I've been melancholy ever since I was a little kid. I remember at six I ran away from home into the woods. I left a note with some dandelions on the front steps of our trailer house. In the note, I told my mom I was running away and asked her to leave food out on the front steps for me. (Hee!). I came home about three hours later. My mom was so upset with me I was grounded for a week.

I used to read a lot (still do), but I used to read and read and read fantasy and fairy tales and science fiction, and wish I could escape out of this world into another one. I remember once sitting in front of the mirror in my room, I must have been about six, and thinking that if I looked into the mirror long enough, I could splash through into the other side, into a world where everything would be different, and I would be happy.

I know it's upsetting just to be alive sometimes, and have to deal with stupid people and stupid teachers (and even at eleven, one can be smarter than ones teachers), but things are going to get better. Email me anytime. I am at spacewaitress - at - fastmail - dot - fm. Hang in there. I'll be reading your blog every day.

Love,

Crystal

Oh - and go easy on the caffeine. It's really not very good for you, you know?

You gotta be careful what you read before going to bed. I'm reading a history of the Cathars, a 13th-century heretical sect in southern France, and most of the book is about how they were persecuted and burned alive by Catholic inquisitors.

Then I fell asleep and had a dream that Inquisitors were after me. Yeesh.

***
Yesterday morning I was running way late so I drove to work, something I rarely do. It wasn't until I was almost home on the bus that I realized I had left my car in the parking ramp. I meant to go back and get it last night, but I forgot again sometime in the evening and went to bed blissfully uncognizant of my vehicle. Now I have a post-it on my monitor that says CAR! so that I don't forget to bring my car home. It's probably going to cost me $26 or so to get it out of the ramp.

TNH had a post linking to a recent interview with Al Franken on Beliefnet, where he tells a story about a "bible boot camp" that Dubya went to with Don Evans (Bush’s Commerce Secretary and longtime friend). Even though they studied Acts for two years, Don Evans was unable to say what it was about when asked by Franken at the White House correspondents' dinner.

TNH's readers are extraordinarily literate, and the comment thread has ranged hither and thither. One of TNH's commenters had this to say:

This is why I lament the general American cultural ignorance of the bible. Back during the campaign when Bush cited the bible as a major influence on his life and thought nobody had the necessary smidgen of knowledge required to say "Oh! Is that so? Would you talk about some specific verses that have influenced you?" It would have been the quickest way to reveal how bogus the Shrub is.

Our culture has been shaped in a major way by the Bible. We all owe it to ourselves to be conversant with it so we can identify and respond to the slanted interpretations that have become such a part of public discourse.

Because of the influence it's had and continues to have on our culture, and because the Bible is worthy of being studied as literature, I've long had a nagging feeling I should read it.

Another reason I feel I should read it is to remind myself of the beauty of passages like this one:

And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin:

And yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.

Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the field, which today is, and tomorrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith? Therefore, take no thought, saying, What shall we eat? or, What shall we drink? or, Wherewithal shall we be clothed?

For your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things . . .

Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.

I submitted my application for a transfer today. I'd be working in the same building, on a different floor, for roughly the same pay, doing a totally different job, and with different hours (10 am- 7 pm M-F). My boss thinks it would be a good place for me; it's a customer service position. We'll see.

The funny thing is, I was at my job today thinking, "this isn't so bad." The same things that make it a huge responsibility also make it kind of fun. There's a lot of variety, I have a huge amount of autonomy and a relatively great amount of responsibility, and I get to be in the vicinity of some very huge deals.

My "good boss" inquired as to my progress in getting transferred. I told him I'd submitted a posting application this morning.

"So things probably won't happen on time for you to leave Monday." (Training for the other position would begin either this Monday or on October 20th).

"Yep, it looks like I'll be sticking around for another month," sez I.

"That's not a bad thing."

"What if they don't take me?" I say.

"Then you feel like shit."

"Then I stick around here."

"That wouldn't be a bad thing," says my boss.

So my good boss wouldn't mind if I stuck around. I think I know why, too. The Bank is populated with old-timers, people who have been there 20, 30 years or more. As a result, a lot of how the company works is carried around in people's heads; not nearly as much is written down as should be. So it takes a newcomer a long time to figure out who people are and how things work. I've been at the Bank for one year (yesterday was my one-year anniversary) and I'm finally figuring out how things work. I have a *lot* of valuable knowledge stored in my head. If I go, they have to start all over again with a new admin.

Now that I'm clearing away the wreckage of my emotional life, I'm far less distracted at work. And being able to do a good job makes the job more enjoyable. I could actually see myself staying there until it's time to go back to school. The only problem is my other boss. He doesn't like me, doesn't like the work I do, and I'm pretty sure he wants to see me go.

I'm tempted to stick around just to prove that I can do it. It seems like a thrilling challenge. But it's risky. If I were to get fired, I don't think I could handle the emotional meltdown it would entail.

Having survived a shipwreck is a fantastic thing, but it doesn't change the fact that there's still wreckage all around me. I'm coming to, clinging to a splintered piece of wood, and I find that the job I don't even like that much may not be available for me anymore.

I called in sick three days in a row last week. This morning, I dreaded going back to work. I was afraid my boss would yell at me so hard my head would fly off my shoulders. Well, that didn't happen, but we did have a big talk.

For the past month, two months maybe, my job performance has been deteriorating steadily. It's been affecting the jobs and lives of my two bosses; inaction on my part has potentially gummed up the works of some multimillion-dollar deals. I can't handle the responsibility of my position, and they need an admin they can rely on. I wrote my boss an email to this effect, telling him I was thinking of putting in my two-week notice and asking him if we could talk.

The wrenching part of this is that my boss has become very much a paternal figure to me. He has sons my age; he once told me that I was like the daughter he never had. I like him tremendously on a personal level, which makes me feel even worse that my screwing things up at work is having an adverse effect on his work life.

And he is concerned about me as a person. There's definitely a professional distance there, though; the first thing he addressed was my shitty job performance. But he told me he didn't want me to leave without having a plan. I told him I want to go back to school next fall, and in the meantime, I was planning on just doing temp work. My boss, in true fatherly fashion, really doesn't want me to go do temp work, because if I did, I would no longer have health insurance.

He suggested that I find another job within the company; if I really wanted a job with less responsibility, I could work as a teller and still retain my health insurance and other benefits. He joked, "I could talk to some people in high places and get you the demotion you're looking for." The reason this is funny is that my boss is the people in high places.

He told me to think about it overnight and present a memo to him and my other boss tomorrow. If I stay in my current position, I'm headed for probation (for sure) and possibly termination. More importantly, my boss can see how unhappy I am in my current job, and he worries that it will do me more harm than good to stay on.

So here are my choices:

1) Stay in my current job. Hope for things to turn around, or hang on 'til the bitter end and get fired.

2) Take a different job within the Bank, one with less responsibility that will feel less like a millstone around my neck, and keep my benefits. Take a substantial cut in pay.

3) Go do temp work.

4) Get some other job.

5) Get my mendicant's license

6) There are probably some other options I'm not aware of

I'm strongly leaning toward temp work. I hate the thought of walking around with no health insurance (and as my boss pointed out, I do have health problems), but I wouldn't be alone. I could use the time at work to research school-related stuff; temp jobs are great for that. And I could pick up and go whenever I wanted.

I had a fantastic weekend with Lane and Tina, even if the weekend was really just one day (Friday night and Sunday morning were taken up by driving). I hope to blog about it more later, but in case I don't get to, this is what we did:

- Had yummy vegan breakfast
- Went to the farmers market
- walked around the University area and went window shopping
- sat in the backyard reading and hanging out
- I went for a nice long walk in the woods. It was wonderful. It made me realize I'm way too much of a city girl and I need to get out in nature more.
- played Scrabble (Lane won) and ate leftover Thai food
- played with Maggie the dog and the two cats, Abigail Bean and Tigger
- Tina invited four of her students over, and we all had delicious pasta that Lane made, and talked, and hung out, then we played Mario Party and DDR on Lane & Tina's giganto-huge TV
- spent some time with Lane and Tina this morning watching crazy fundamentalists on TV, then drove home

I'm probably forgetting something. Saturday was such a wonderful, full day. I'd forgotten that one can do so much in a day. I guess I've spent way too much time moping lately. That can take up a lot of time.

I'm so grateful that Lane and Tina invited me down to Iowa City. It was exactly what I needed. Yay! I can't thank them enough.

I got home just in time to celebrate Maggie's birthday. Chuck, Lori, Jonathan, Kelly, Maggie and I all went to dinner at Azia and had a wonderful time. Even though Chuck made fun of me. And so did Jonathan, for that matter, but I'm used to that.

UPDATE: Lane also wrote about the weekend, and in a much better narrative fashion. Oh well, he didn't have to drive for five and a half hours today! :P

... I'm feeling more buoyant now than I have in weeks. Possibly because I've stared death in the face and decided to live. I came to the hard-won realization that I can do anything I want. Really. It's up to me. Whatever I want to do with my life, I can. I don't know why it took a near-miss at suicide to bring me to this point, but it did.

So to my friends and loved ones who might see me in the next few days and wonder why I'm so chipper, know that it's because I have a new perspective on what it is to be a human being, and what it is to be alive.

I just hope I don't forget this. It's terrifyingly easy to forget what one has learned.

p.s. - I'm drunk. I opened a bottle of champagne that I had stowed away in the fridge.

Sorry to make you all worry. Thanks for all the kind comments and emails.

I got a couple phone calls last night, one from Johnny M and one from Lane. They both have ideas for me:

Johnny M says I should steal a car that has an 8-track player, and drive into the sunset listening to the Doors' "L.A. Woman" on 8-track, over and over, drinking Jack Daniels and smoking unfiltered Camels until the car runs out of gas. When it does, I should douse it in the remaining JD and throw my last still-burning unfiltered Camel on it and set it on fire. He said he knows I should do this because Jim Morrisson told him so.

Lane said I should come down to Iowa City and stay with him and Tina and their dog and two cats for a few days.

I am definitely going to do one of these two things.

I hesitate to write about my personal life on this blog. When one does a lot of writing about politics, it seems inappropriate to bring up one's personal life.

I need help, though. I'm absolutely stuck and I don't know what to do with my life. I've been thinking about killing myself again, although I'm not going to. The main thing that stops me is that it would be incredibly disruptive to the lives of people I love, and I'm not going to do that to them. I'm mainly thinking of my mom and stepdad here; I just don't see how one could get over the suicide of one's child.

But I don't know what to do with myself. I see little point to getting up and going to work every day. I don't like my job and I derive little satisfaction from it. I want to quit, start over and do something else, but I'm tens of thousands of dollars in debt. It's a formidable obstacle and one that I don't know how to overcome. I occasionally hatch plans of paying off my debt, but it's going to take years, and in the meantime the unrelieved greyness of it, the day-to-day drudgery, seems like more than I can bear.

I don't have anything greater to live for.

Maybe this is just temporary despair induced by the failure of a relationship I tried so hard to make work. Maybe if I just wait a few weeks things will be OK.

I just want out. I feel like I've made so many mistakes in my life. I didn't know the rules earlier in life and I've made a total mess of things. Now that I finally understand how things work, I find I've painted myself into a corner and I have nothing to look forward to in the next few years besides watching paint dry.

It seems ridiculous to post about this on my blog, but I'm doing it anyway. In the past couple days I've come very close to checking out again. I'm not going to, but I had the realization today that if I could seriously consider something as radical as taking my own life, I could just as well keep on living and do just about anything. Including posting my suicidal ruminations on my blog. There is very little I can do that would be as ridiculous as killing myself. I could quit my job and become a homeless person, and that would still be better, I think, than taking my own life.

Teen Girl Squad!

...and ruminates on what it is to have never been cool:

"Now, I recognize cool when I see it, which is useful when one is a film or music critic. Just today I was driving around -- in my spankin' brand-new minivan -- listening to the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and marveling at just how cool Karen O sounds blasting out of the speakers. But it does not follow that because I recognize cool, that I am cool thereby. Possibly the fact I'm blasting YYY in a minivan means I am the coolest minivan driver in Ohio. But then we're back to the whole "one-eyed man in the kingdom of the blind" thing again, aren't we."

The Man in Black died yesterday at the age of 71.

My second thought (after "god, how awful") was of a conversation I had with Jonathan after Cash's wife June Carter Cash died in May. He said he was afraid that Johnny Cash would die soon, as he loved his wife very much. Sadly, he was proven right. Cash hung on another 5 months, long enough to see his deceased wife's last album released on September 9th, and gave up the ghost two days later.

I do try to be respectful of public figures, but this image of a French ambassador scared the living crap out of me as I was scrolling the page of this article in the LA Times. I actually jumped:

For that matter, this picture of Bush is none too flattering, either.

From PNH, who got it from Atrios (who got it, through whatever channel, from the Washington Post).

One of Electrolite's readers had this to say:

Hmm. If throwing money at schools won't solve the problems of the school systems, why do you suppose throwing money at terrorism will make it go away? This is the Rebublican rhetorical model. Throwing money at something never solves anything. We don't need more money to rebuild Iraq, we need to test the rebuilders with standardized tests and get rid of the ones who can't cut it. We don't need more soldiers, we need to test the ones we have and make sure they are up to the standard of the war on terror.

The government run War on Terror is a miserable failure, and throwing more money at it won't solve anything. What we need are War on Terrorism Vouchers. I want to put my tax money where I think it can best be used to stamp out terrorism.

As I walked out the door to go to work this morning I saw my roommate Justin standing in the lawn, transfixed. He was looking at a squirrel that had been injured. There was no blood visible, but the back end of the squirrel's body was flattened and paralyzed. It looked like it had been crushed by a car tire.

"What should I do?" Justin asked. He thought he should kill it and put it out of its misery. I thought he should just leave it, or call Animal Control.

"Maybe we should let Kitty outside. She'd deal with it," I said.

"No! Squirrels have nasty diseases."

"Oh yeah. Right."

We stood and watched the squirrel a while longer, Justin debating whether he should get a rock, and me saying he should just call animal control. The poor squirrel was terrified. It shook and tried to move, but it couldn't run away.

Finally it hopped away and hid under a parked car. "Obviously it has the will to live and hop around," I said. "Might as well let it go." I don't know if that was the right decision, but at that moment, it made sense.

Justin turned to go inside and I started to walk down the street to the bus stop. "See you later," I called. "And don't let Kitty out!"

Following are two Amazon.com customer reviews of Al Franken's new book. Which of the following two conservatives do you think actually bothered to read the book before posting a review?

1.

A review from the right, September 5, 2003 Reviewer: A reader from Greensboro, NC (5 stars) I hate to admit it, but this book really illustrates the poor research and constant mistruths that come from my party. Coulter is a disgrace to not just the right but America and all it stands for. Hannity and Colmes should be re-named to the Sean Hannity Show because Alan Colmes simply is not as vociferous as his counterpart and it hurts the left. I'm Republican but more importantly I'm a proud American. I would prefer to hear fair and balanced because it is good for public discourse but it simply is not happening and never will. He who yells loudest is usually the one heard. I was really disheartened to learn the truths about Al Gore and Love Canal, the Internet and Love Story. Franken illustrates the truth about the lies that were told by the media that negatively affected Gore's run for the presidency. It is worth buying this book just to read about this alone. Some that read this review may question my loyalty to the GOP. At times I do myself. I simply wish that everyone would put the country first rather than their agenda. After completing the book I'm a little more than disillusioned with the lies in the media. We should stand for it no longer. This is an excellent book for everyone!

2.

If this is the Bible of the Left, I prefer the real Bible, September 5, 2003 Reviewer: Jan P. Dennis (see more about me) from Monument, CO USA (2 stars) Is Al Franken funny? Yes, if you think name-calling and junior high-school-level sneering is funny.

Is Al Franken accurate? Yes, if you think tendentious and extremely selective use of sources plus the mere mention of the word "Harvard" in conjunction with "researchers" constitutes accuracy.

Is Al Franken witty? Yes, if you think clotted, nearly unreadable prose equals wit.

Apparently, many Americans have concluded, despite massive evidence (albeit unwitting) to the contrary, that Al Franken is funny, accurate, and witty. Then again, in these post-modern times I guess that depends on what the meaning of the word "is" is.

One extra star for managing to hoodwink hundreds of thousands of Americans into buying this idiocy.

I'm about 2/3rds of the way through Al Franken's new book, Lies and the Lying Liars Who Tell Them: A Fair and Balanced Look at the Right, and it is blowing me away. It is far better than I expected, and more than that, it is a necessary book. He blows holes in right-wing myths from "Clinton weakened the military" to "Wellstone's memorial service was a shameless political ploy."

I need to come up with a better term for the lazy, lying blowhards that populate our nation's media. I hesitate to call them right-wingers, because their political orientation is not the main thing I take issue with. What enrages me, as it should enrage any decent American regardless of their political beliefs, is the way the right-wing media lies, misquotes, takes things out of context, and distorts the truth over and over and over. Some of the manoeuvers Franken describes in his book are breathtakingly despicable.

This book is essential reading. I strongly urge anyone reading this blog to pick it up.

After a delightful breakfast at the BLB with some of my pals, we moseyed over to Dreamhaven, an excellent independent bookstore and comic book shop. Bookstores can be a dangerous place for me, especially when I have a broken heart and a wallet full of cash. I've been wanting to read more and more nonfiction lately, and Dreamhaven had lots of appealing-looking science and history titles conveniently placed on the endcaps. Here's what I got:

Quimby the Mouse by Chris Ware
This is a collection of Chris Ware's Quimby the Mouse stories with a new introduction by Chris Ware. I guess I didn't really need this book, since I have all but one of the Acme Novelty Library comics, but I'm a sucker for good cover art, and the cover of this one is just beautiful. Plus I'm sure the introduction will be well worth reading.

One Hundred Demons by Lynda Barry
A beautiful book; hard-bound with full-color pages. From what I gathered by glancing through it, it looks to be an autobiography of Lynda Barry's youth. I love Lynda Barry and I think she is one of the best storytellers ever.

The Baffler no. 15
An excellent magazine on culture and economics.

Hildegard of Bingen: Woman of Her Age by Fiona Maddocks
Biography of 12th-century religious composer and polymath Hildegard of Bingen. I've had this inexplicable itch to read about medieval history, and this book will help scratch it. What particularly intrigues me is that Hildegard of Bingen did not reach her intellectual and artistic flowering until middle age. This gives me hope, as I have not as yet accomplished anything significant, and I hope to someday.

The Red Queen: Sex and the Evolution of Human Nature by Matt Ridley
I am simultaneously drawn to and repulsed by the topic of evolutionary psychology. As a science (if it can be considered one), it is still in its infancy. The idea that there are biological differences between men's and women's minds, and that these influences affect how we think and behave, is a seductive explanation for the sometimes-baffling differences between men and women, but is anathema to the standards of egalitarianism for which so many have fought for so long. (An aside - why does it seem like most of these books are written by men? Some, like Steven Pinker's How the Mind Works, seem like little more than an extended apologia for male bad behavior.)

A Thread Across the Ocean: The Heroic Story of the Transatlantic Cable by John Steele Gordon
Since I was young I'd wondered how "wires" made it from America to Europe. The idea of a cable running across the ocean seemed so fantastic as to be preposterous. I only recently learned that there is indeed such a cable. It still doesn't quite seem real to me, even though it's been there since 1866. I'm looking forward to reading this book; I'm fascinated by stories of extraordinary feats of engineering, and the coordination of vast quantities of people and money required to bring them about.

Via Body and Soul, a fascinating weblog whose subject is, as the title would indicate, why your wife won't have sex with you.

Here's where I make my first obvious remark: a mismatch in desire for sex is a very common problem, but it's not universal. Well, duh, you say. It's not like I'd bother writing a weblog aimed at, say, two-tenths of a percent of the population, and if there aren't any sexually happy long-term couples anywhere, we might as well forget this whole thing.

Popular culture reflects different ways of looking at the problem of incommensurate desire, and one of the ways popular culture makes its views known is through humor. In our day, the majority of married-sex jokes feature wives who don't want to have sex with their husbands. But sometimes it's the other way around. There have always been plenty of women whose husbands won't have sex with them as much as they want, either, and during at least one historical era, "conventional wisdom" and sexual humor revolved around the sexual insatiability of women. Reluctant Al Bundys evading predatory Pegs reigned supreme in the ribald tales of the sixteenth century.

In both humorous traditions, the jokes are about sexual dissatisfaction, but in the Elizabethan stories, the emphasis is on how exhausting and exasperating women are because of their sexual demands, and in the modern stories, it is on how exhausting and exasperating women are because they won't put out. It's interesting, isn't it, how these jokes seem to indicate that a sexual problem between a couple is always somehow the woman's fault?

"Incommensurate desire." There's the rub. It seems like people are wired differently, in terms of how often they desire sex. I've spent most of my life at the "very frequent" end of the spectrum; the only lover I ever had trouble keeping up with was a man who wanted it three times a day (or more). Very rarely has incompatibility in this area been a problem for me. So why am I so fascinated by this weblog? Part of it is that I'm fascinated by sex and have been ever since I discovered what it is. Another is that it's extremely candid and well-written, and deals with a subject that is not only a problem for many couples, but is fundamental to the way couples relate to each other. (I hope the author of this blog turns her writing into a book; I suspect she could sell hundreds of thousands of copies.)

I wonder how much of her advice could be of use to women who have unresponsive husbands. Not being a man, I haven't been privy to too many stories of sexually reluctant wives. I have, however, heard horror stories of women whose husbands wouldn't have sex with them after they'd borne children.

Woo! Liberry Blooze is back! In the fine tradition of bloggers everywhere, Dr. Chame - er, Jonathan - has announced his departure from the blogosphere only to be called back by the adulation and despair of adoring fans and the inexorable pull of self expression. Yay! Welcome back.

If you want to have a life, don't get one of these:

Now I know why I've been avoiding video games all this time. They're so... compelling. My last run-in with video games was when I was fourteen and I would spend whole weekends at my aunt's place playing Super Mario Bros. I couldn't rest until I beat the game. Once I did, I was so sick of it, I never wanted to play it again. To this day I can't play Super Mario Bros. My aunt didn't really have any other games, so my video-game addiction came to a merciful end.

The nice thing about having stayed away from video games for fourteen years is the technology has advanced by leaps and bounds. Video games are beautiful now. There's so much in them - the graphics, art and music create rich deep worlds that are easy to get lost in.

Ever since Brian bought a Game Boy Advance SP, I've found it hard to put down (he's kindly let me borrow it numerous times - I'm sure I've logged more hours on it than he has). I'm guessing there have been whole books written about why video games are so compelling, so I'll spare you my musings on the topic. There are some fantastic games for the GBA Advance - I'll try and put up some reviews on my other blog (which I think I'll turn into an all-around technology blog, rather than restrict it to Pocket PC related items). Part of the appeal for me, though, is definitely the hardware. I love small things. And being able to hold this little system, with its lighted color screen, in your hands... it's like the hardware disappears and you're completely immersed in the world of the game.

I even gave myself a psychosomatic cold the other night. I'd spent the whole day playing Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers as Aragorn. It rains in several scenes, and I wondered whether Aragorn would get sick from wandering around in the rain. That night I was congested and sneezy. The next morning I was absolutely fine.

UPDATE: Read my review of Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers game here.

FURTHER UPDATE: I think I've reached my saturation point. I actually put the gameboy down and am going to do something else now. I'm going to do a bit of housecleaning, then go to the Dean meetup. Woo! What a relief to get to the point where I can pick it up and put it down.... the novelty's worn off somewhat.

I need one of these.