I have thoughts, but they’ll have to wait for tomorrow. In the meantime, pumpkins!
Archive for October, 2006
President Bush knows how to use The Google; do you?
Color me amused.
Short of revolution, voting is the only way to change this, folks.
An Argentinian teenager has found the fossilized skull of a Terror Bird.
Upon hearing of the discovery, the White House issued a statement that the Terror Bird “has well-documented links to radical evolutionists and global terror networks” and has been placed on a No-Fly list. In response, the Terror Bird promptly ate Karl Rove.
Thank you for all your good wishes. The Creeping Death has receded somewhat. I’m still snuffling and honking, but my fever’s gone and I’m no longer afraid that my eyeballs will fall out.
Now for photos.
A pineapple hat:
And a pumpkin hat:
This will be a very seasonal baby.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I just sneezed, and now I must mop.
I have been knitting, I swear. I have made several adorable things recently, but because they were baby shower gifts for someone who might occasionally glance at this blog, I couldn’t talk about them.
(Zey are zuper-zecret. Eef I tell you, I must kill you! Kill you wit mysteeeeerious accent.)
But the baby shower was on Saturday, and it was delightful (I thought), and now I can post the photos I took of the zuper-cute items. Well, I could post them if I hadn’t forgotten to upload them.
My excuse for this failure is that I have contracted the Creeping Death. I spent Sunday curled up in a tissue box, in a hacking haze of sinus goo and Chloraseptic spray. Today I am at work, though I have the mental acuity of a drugged orangutang, or maybe a member of congress.
If you are in the neighborhood, please stop by and bring me soup.
As pixels shift, I sit and stare;
the internet, it tells me where
and when and how the news goes down,
and where to get cheap gas in town,
and from what foods I should abstain
so Mad Cow doesn’t eat my brain
or Botulism rot my gut.
It tells me of the Church’s smut,
and corporations’ efforts to
steal the pensions that accrue
through workers’ labor. It tells me
of nuclear tests in North Korea,
and how Madonna has adopted
(Angelina’s trend co-opted!).
It speaks of AIDS, and war, and death,
and tells me not to hold my breath
while waiting for the revolution,
but provides no good solution.
So then I look up knitting sites,
and gossip blogs, and bits and bytes
of fluffy stuff that does not frighten,
rather serves to ease and lighten
all my cares. Then I eat food,
and upload photos that are rude.
Over the weekend, I asked a friend if she had seen the results of the Fuckling Contest.
“No,” she admitted. “Last time I looked at your blog, you had some kind of tirade going.”
Tirade! I resented this characterization. “You want a tirade?” I thought. “I could show you some real blog tirades, dammit.” But then I reconsidered, and decided that perhaps “tirade” wasn’t such a bad word after all.
Thinking is ranked somewhere up there with masturbating on the list of Things People Do But Should Not Discuss In Polite Company. It is actively discouraged in schools. It is frowned upon in the workplace, and banned in amusement parks. It is allowed in coffeehouses, but only reluctantly. But thinking is crucial. If we succumb to socially mandated intellectual numbness, then maybe we deserve to have our elected officials strip of us of our right to privacy, our right to reproductive freedom, our right to free and fair elections, our rights to habeas corpus and freedom from torture.
Perhaps I should have made it clear sooner that this blog is NOT polite company. I will discuss all sorts of unpleasantries here, including possibly electoral politics, race/class/gender/other isms, bodily fluids, and anything else I can think of that will make someone, somewhere, uncomfortable. There will occasionally be tirades.
But I will also discuss knitting and cats, and maybe food. So don’t give up yet.