Category: Uncategorized

Okay. I’m out smoking. Beat-up, rusting car rumbles up, Billie Holiday music blaring. White male, late-thirties early forties, balding, 200 lbs, opens the car door and pours liquid onto the street. He gets out of the vehicle, closes the door, then kicks the door to fully close it. He is wearing the short coat of an MD in training and has a stethoscope slung over his neck. He lights a cigarette and walks briskly down the middle of the road. He walks to a sidewalk, doubles back to toss the cigarette, and walks into a house. He’s a killer, right? Aren’t all balding white males who act erratically killers? And the Billie Holiday? That’s straight psycho shit.

Just read a manga online. This became much easier once I remembered to read right-to-left.

Remember this post? The one that got the attention of the Rhapsody guy? Well, here‘s a little more food for playlist-posting thought

“The researchers found that people actively work to create an image of themselves through the music they make available to others, just as they might by buying a new car or showing off a cell phone.”

Here’s what I remember from last night’s dream. I was staying in a hotel with a large group of people, a high school trip or something. The hotel was a converted seaside manor, all narrow hallways and oddly shaped rooms. I was in a room which had clearly been decorated by a goth kid — punk posters and dark plaid. After lights out, a white cat with very short hair went around to all the doors to check that they were closed — I saw his paws push against the thin paper of the door. My room was long and had a couple entrances, one of which had been left open a crack. The cat came in, jumped on the desk and started knocking things over. I tossed him out and closed the door.

Next scene, my roommate (my wife?) and I had snuck out and were on the porch walking around in the dim pre-sunrise light. As I passed in front of a glass-panel door, I saw what the cat was protecting us from. Something that looked like one of the Dementors from Azkaban darted into the room, hovering horizontally and searching for something, his black figure silhouetted against the blue light of the large windows across the room.

As his field of vision passed over me, I yelled “get down” and dropped to the floor as the thing, which I remember calling Dracula, flew towards us at great speed. I think there was a scythe involved.

Vacation with kids appears to be something entirely different from vacation without them. For me, the big V comes rarely and is usually synonymous with “bender”. There is much sitting. With little tykes to contend with, though, vacations sound like just a different flavor of obligation. The relaxing becomes arduous, the pleasant unbearable.

One big difference is the car ride. A friend of mine told me that he took his kids to Brooklyn to visit his family there, and that hooking the Playstation up to the TV screen in his SUV made the ride easy peasy. They only made one stop, if you can imagine.

Now, I’m a proponent of letting the little tykes play video games until the blisters on their fingers pop (Do the kids these days even get blisters, what with the ergonomic controllers popular these days? It’s not like their puerile hands need to suffer the square controllers of the NES anymore.), but I don’t know if I back the PS2 on the car ride. Learning to keep quiet for the endless hours of a car ride is an important part of the development of the American child. We all remember sitting and staring out the window, making games out of nothing and not pestering the parents. Isn’t that a fond memory?

The battle between Alex and the blog format continues. Damned if I can figure out color schemes. I tried the high-contrast approach, but that’s just cruel. Now I’m back to the blue, but with a high-contrast banner. This looks weird. Guess I’ll just keep messin’. Don’t be too surprised if you see a rainbow of colors over the next few days.

Here’s a little redesign for you. No new content, but new format — that’s still good, right?

Today’s lunch-time conversation: is it possible to sin in Purgatory? Assuming you buy all that crap. “According to the Catholic Church, is it possible to sin in Purgatory?” is the correct phrasing, I guess. If after death, the faithful are submitted to the refining fires of Purgatory to cleanse them of their sins before entering Heaven, is it possible for them to sin during the duration of their stay?

Answer: No, because the Devil is not present in Purgatory. Thus he cannot tempt Man, causing him to sin.

I don’t buy this. If I’m writhing around in the agonising flames of God’s love, I can still dishonor my parents. As a matter of fact, I’d say it’s pretty likely that I would.

Saw HD hockey for the first time yesterday. Dude I work with recorded an HD re-broadcast of last season’s game 7. I’m going to go out on a bit of a limb here and say that except for the smell of the ice, it was better than being there. You want to see the cuts on the ice? The yellow of last night’s bruises? This is the way to go. Trouble is, the fans are in HD, too. Yikes.

Check this out. Now, I’ve considered doing the same thing ol’ Bats did and go to Scotland in search of my heritage. I know zero about Scottish tradition, but showing up in the town that shares my last name and poking around seems like it might be cool. It also seems a lot like trying to find something to hang my identity hat on, looking for something to associate myself with. I might as well just do some online research — I’d end up with the same amount of stuff, and it would have just as much relevance to my life and experience.