I think it’s awesome that Republicans would rely on electoral chess to try to win an election rather than the merits of their ideas about how to help American citizens. And by “awesome” I mean “cynical, ugly and disappointing.”
Archive Page 7
When a situation is hard to control, we say “it’s like herding cats,” because cats are bloody hard to control—especially mine. Humans, by comparison—pet owners, especially—are much easier.
However, I can happily report that I have managed a coup of animal behavior control that might make a student of Burrhus Frederic Skinner jealous.
The New Yorker published a remarkable profile of Michele Bachmann in August that delves a bit into (among a great many other things) her devotion to a political conservative Christian principle called Dominionism. It’s based on Genesis 1:26.
And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness: and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth.
Somehow it applies to the notion among some politically active conservative Christians that their ultimate goal is to gain control over every secular civil institution in the country through political action to create (they would say “restore”) a theocratic government run exclusively by Christians.
Makes sense as a metaphor: Control the animals, control the earth, control the system. And there are a lot of politicians who seem to creep about upon the earth. Though I know fundamentalist Christians hate metaphor. To them it’s either the plain truth, or it’s not in the Bible.
But to turn back to the original text, in which god is telling Adam and Eve to make use of animals—not, I might add, to annihilate Barack Obama—this may be one area where Bachmann and I overlap in our beliefs. And it’s specifically in regards to my cat.
09
Sep
11
Obama’s got game
I’m impressed with President Obama’s politicking in the last couple of weeks.
First he forces Republicans to deny a president a speech to a joint session of Congress, for the first time ever, drawing more attention to the speech. Then he has the grace to accept an alternate date, proposed by a Republican. (He also had no choice, but he still looks good.)
The pre-speech leaks did not convey the breadth of his proposals, so last night’s speech seemed even bigger in comparison.
Finally, so many of his proposals are Republican ideas, that they look even more obstructionist when they push back at the plan—especially in an environment where the public hates Congress even more than they hate the president.
The speech may have been a master stroke of election politics, but it also has the added benefit of being a helpful plan that might actually be passable—except that congressional Republicans are more intent on making Obama a one-term president than actually doing anything to serve their jobless constituents.
07
Sep
11
Looking outward, looking inward
Half the fun of going to the gym is the chance to observe its particular biosphere. It’s treasure trove of wildlife. I say you ought to get something out of it. Lord knows I hate going to the gym.
It’s a symptom of my inexorable laziness. But I see results when I work out, and male vanity is even more compulsive than laziness. So I go. But always in the morning before work—because I hate going after work even more.
So I’ve become familiar with the characters of my morning routine. I think you see a more consistent recurrence of the same people in the morning. Everyone’s routines are a little more regimented early in the day. We still have discipline in the morning, and hope—as opposed to later in the day when we are apathetic and undone and much more inclined to get a cocktail than lift anything heavier than a gym bag.
Life is getting back to normal in the Delaware Valley after Hurricane Irene spun her chaos throughout the region. Transportation systems into and out of the area are nearly back to full power. And despite some damage and flooding, we skated by pretty luckily down here, all things considered.
A hurricane is kind of a big deal. On the day of impact, you can forget about how things are supposed to happen normally. The day after, you can expect a lot of clean-up and rescheduling; maybe a few flights and a few buses. Not until a good couple of days after the storm can you really expect anything approaching a regular routine to resume.
Most people feel inspired to band together and push through. Solidarity was in full bloom on social networks, where activity overwhelming centered around checking in on people’s safety and spreading reports of the latest details.
So the small but noisy minority of petty tweets and Facebook posts about travel delays I saw were doubly disappointing.
Continue reading ‘Petty complaints about Irene stand out on social media landscape’
25
Aug
11
I feel the earth move
I didn’t check in to Philadelphia’s “Earthquakepocalypse” on Foursquare with the tens of thousands of others who did.
I did check in to the Chinese restaurant where I was lunching with a friend when it happened. But I did that when I got there. Nothing to do with the quake.
Where were you when it happened?
Um, I was fighting with a vegetable dumpling as it slipped through my chopsticks for the fourth time.
I don’t check in to anything with the suffix “-pocalypse,” mostly because it’s dumb. It made sense for the snowfall of winter 2009, when we were hit three times for an accumulation of four and half feet, but not now. And the ironic, self-aware over-inflation of ordinary situations just isn’t funny anymore.
However, I guess an earthquake in Philadelphia isn’t, strictly speaking, ordinary—in a Chinese restaurant or otherwise. Bottles shook at the bar. Glasses tinkled against each other on the shelves. Plum sauce skittered across the table. And my lemon chicken sauce quivered obscenely.
09
Jun
11
Notes on getting a new gym bag
1. You must not worry what your friends will think of you when they see you carrying around a smart new gray bag with robin’s egg-blue piping and a logo nobody recognizes. Try these excuses. (Note: Do not be troubled by too much regard for the truth.)
- It was the last one left.
- You should have seen the pink and purple “Dora the Explorer” bag.
- The all-black one cost twice as much as I was willing to spend.
- Look at these great pockets!
- I was desperate.
2. Nothing will ever be where it is supposed to be. You will continue to discover new pockets for the first three months. The way you use those pockets will change almost daily, so sometimes you will be surprised by what you find — or what you don’t find — in them. Pocket change will go in and never come out. Also you will find items in there that you never put in there. You will swear your wallet would never be in that pock— er, oh… there it is! Rummaging through the bag, you may cut yourself on your razor. Always carry Band-Aids in the bag. Continue reading ‘Notes on getting a new gym bag’
08
Jun
11
Up His Sleeve
From more than halfway down the block I saw part of his right arm, partially obscured by the trees lining the sidewalk. Just a patch of fabric on a light-blue polo shirt. I recognized him instantly. Funny I knew it was him with so little to go on.
I didn’t quite believe myself, so I waited until I cleared the trees so I could see more of him. Yes. There was the cigarette. I could see the outline of his glasses.
I can pick him out of a crowd by a gesture or the way he walks. The way he sways his arm. The way he plants a step. There’s an indelible imprint on my mind of all sort of of subtle clues, most of which I probably don’t even know about.
It was remarkable to me in that moment how well I must know him, after all these years. It made me proud. It felt like he was as familiar as my own reflection. It’s the stuff people hope for in a relationship. It’s the stuff you get old remembering together.
Then a terrible thought hit me. Maybe it’s just the laundry that I know so well.
07
Jun
11
Take my Cake — Please
“I can resist everything but temptation.”
—Oscar Wilde
Today is the birthday of my cube mate at work. When I arrived this morning, she alerted me to an Irish whiskey cake she had made and brought to the morning news meeting. “Better go downstairs and get some while it’s still there,” she said.
It was getting rave reviews around the office. “It’s like you bought it at the store,” someone said.
“I made it without eggs and without milk,” she said.
“You made a cake for your own birthday?” I asked.
“Yep,” she said. “And there’s a coffee cake that someone brought in, too.”
I thanked her, but I decided to abstain. I’ve been trying to train myself to understand that, just because food is there, it doesn’t mean I am responsible for eating it. If there are sandwiches left over after a meeting, I do not need to take one with me if I have already had one. If there is a slice of pizza left, I do not need to eat it. Continue reading ‘Take my Cake — Please’
... but enough about me 