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SubscriptionsSites I Read
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| February TenthIt has recently come to my attention that Neutral Milk Hotel's album In An Aeroplane Over the Sea (or as I like to call it, The Only Hope for Western Civilization) was released the day I turned twelve. I can only take this as an indication of being meant for great things, though I for one have no idea what they are.
Also, I learned about fractal geometry the other night, and it may have saved my life. 
Here yon' Richmond vows to bury Wicker Park in time.
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| Must Be An Election YearAfter her disastrous recent interviews with CBS’s Katie Couric, the
bar on her abilities was set at an absurdly low level, and from that
starting point she did an adequate job. But only by these artificially
low standards, could her performance be considered successful. From a
substantive standpoint, Ms. Palin’s performance was, for lack of a
better word, abysmal.
Her understanding of major policy issues is clearly paper thin; her
answers sounded like strung together talking points that were often
incoherent and contradictory; aside from energy-related issues, she
offered almost no actual policy solutions; and more often than not she
failed to answer the moderator’s questions — a point she even boasted
about — relying instead on sound bites, catch phrases and folksy
expressions. (It is also worth noting that the moderator, Gwen Ifill,
did a strikingly poor job. Her questions were badly formed and she
rarely challenged the candidates when they failed to answer her
questions.)
Ms. Palin was clearly focused on sounding “genuine,” labeling
herself and Mr. McCain as reformers and mavericks (a word she used six
times). But a presidential election is, at least theoretically, not an
authenticity contest; it must reflect a serious and sober understanding
of significant policy issues. But people have called this a victory. If you're a sophist, then yeah, this was a brilliant tribute to how little anyone anticipates to learn from television, but if you care at all about 1. America 2. Public Forums 3. Truth 4. Words and Meaning, then you should probably feel pretty insulted. I'd like to point out how much I like going to soccer games and drinking six-packs, and going to church, but if given the chance I would strongly rebuke Governor Palin for caring so little about her country as to go so far as running for vice-president. That's a real slap in the face, to all us hard workin' *wink* Americans.
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| Back in the USSADoes "blog" mean "web+log"? "Weblog" And I guess the hyper-individuation of the activity is that which takes away the "We" doesn't it?
Look, I doubt this site is going to make it. Mine in particular I mean. I came back to find it in ruins, in fact, I feel like Odysseus in a lot of ways, because where have I been (on every front, friendships, employment, my family, even what I eat), and I'm not exactly on board with how everything is coming down and settling. Maybe it's because it's just coming down and settling. The triple threat of "Post Graduation Ennui" "Post France Culture Shock" and "End of Relationship Syndrome" have successfully kept me in for these first couple days I've been back. But last night I fixed up my bike, listening to a familiar song, and rode a familiar route and remembered that I knew these rooms and walked these floors, and don't really live alone, although the city is effectively empty sometimes, of what I wanted when I wanted to come back, and when I didn't want to leave. What can you have that can't be taken away? Not too much, I'm afraid. Jazz night with Ethan at my favorite bar at least gave me some assurance, but it may not be enough. I can't read. I wake up really really early.
I almost saw the Pope. I almost lived in a port city. I took myself back on a rented bicycle in a city that leaves me at best pretty conflicted, which is a feeling shared by everyone who doesn't feel how I used to feel about it. I looked myself in the mirror in a foreign hotel, and knew there was nothing that can't be taken away. My bag showed up at two in the morning at my apartment, and I thought looked kind of sheepish sitting there in the morning. I was glad to see his little red-wine heart hadn't burst on his "allmyclothing" organs and killed us both.
I'm going to see Dave tonight. He is cool water.
I don't think you're Tereza. C'mon, you know I don't. Doesn't anybody want a little accountability? I guess I understand. I just want to be warm.
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| I wanna know, have you ever seeen the rrrrraaainOkay, so are "Scattered" storms more concentrated than "isolated" storms, or what?
Furthermore, contrary to what I'm fairly certain is true, I picture isolated storms to be a lot more dangerous than just "storms," see, cause isolated storms don't have any support, so I bet they feel they have to prove something?
I was almost washed away the other morning. Seeking shelter from the wind, I and my bike hunkered by a Supermercado, where I and the woman standing at the door exchanged those "Whoa, this is some wild stuff, right? I know!" looks. This I count as a very profound instance of communication, but, I take what I can get.
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| Of all the large life-scale mistakes I've been making, the one which bothers me the most is having read "All Quiet On the Western Front" as my first post-college leisure read. I'm not sure if I'm graduating or if I just lost the war, but regardless, I have little idea of how life will go on for so many reasons I can't even count.
I don't know if anyone else ran into this while graduating, but I kind of feel like I'll never recover from the damage I've done to myself here. After 16 years in school I scarcely know anything else.
Hey, come visit me soon. It's not really that far, and I'll make you coffee, and we can listen to the trucks go by, or go for walks at sunset amongst the Mexican children and old wrought iron and look for cracks in the pavement big enough to reveal the brick beneath, and then you can sleep on one of our many couches. Nestled amongst all my other worries, is the pervading suspicion that there aren't any rabbits in Pilsen. There are lots of cats, and that brings me some consolation.
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