Sunday, January 31, 2010

Sunday Sunday Sunday

Hey, you should read this column in the Johnsonville Press, a rag out of Rutgers. The piece was written by Ben Kharakh, who is one of my most glib and charming friends. (In writing, anyway. Ho-ho.)

All I want to do right now is be asleep. Winter, am I right? Yeah, this guy knows what I'm talking about.

Wilco = I skip the song so my profile might someday get less embarrassing. Uncle Tupelo = I turn the song way up and mess up my Word Twist game by singing along lustily.

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

This Has Been BS (News)

Various types of BS in life have meant that I haven't been writing or posting for a little while. Please still like me.

My apartment will soon be listed as for rent on a real estate site. I'm extremely anxious about this -- not because I don't want to move, but because it's been a buttlong time that I have lived here and change is naturally scary. Isn't it? I love my apartment. But I'm a grown-ass woman who deserves to live and write in her own non-shared place, which she can afford, an't I? A: Yes. The move will be exciting, when it does finally occur.

I'm reading some books. A book I began reading is entitled Born To Be Good by Dacher Keltner. My godfather gave it to me for my birthday. It's not a literature book; it's a social science book. A literature book I began reading is two books in one, called Miss Lonelyhearts and The Day of the Locust by Nathanael West. It is/they are lovely and frightening. That one I borrowed from the "lending library" on Greene Street (just a bookshelf sitting out on the sidewalk with instructions taped to it) and will have to return when I'm done with it.

Earlier today I found a cartoon I drew a couple of years ago of two bunnies looking at each other. The first bunny is saying, "Happiness is a choice, Jason!" Above the second bunny's head is a thought balloon that says, "Trust-fund bitch."

I just watched a Netflix Instant View of a Mystery Science Theater 3000 episode. I found it soothing and got nostalgic for when I used to stay up late in high school and watch that show while eating a pint of Ben and Jerry's. I now feel I should make the end credits music of MST3K my bed music for when I talk during Nazario Scenario once, just to try it.

There is a Netflix DVD that just came of some Futuramas, but it's dirty and won't play. I'm going to try washing it gently like they say you're supposed to.

FINALLY: There has been some dining out with Helen and Diana, both lovely ladies of whom treated me to meals for my birthday.

I love those ladies.

Saturday, January 16, 2010

"Tell me many kind words dear."

(The subject line of a piece of spam I just received.)

Saturday, January 9, 2010

Contextual Obligations

Cultural products that reference older institutions mean something totally different to people who are unfamiliar with those older things. Does that mean postmodernism is dying, or does it mean it will continue forever?

OK: when I was a child, I witnessed the rise to superstardom of a pop singer named "Madonna." The adults around me understood that her name referenced a religious figure, but I didn't -- even though I went to a parochial school with a statue of the Virgin Mary out front, I heard the term "Madonna" used in reference to the religious icon only afterward, years after I knew who Madonna the singer was. (Yes, I know that's her real name, but that is not germane to this argument.) And even though I've since seen Madonnas in museums and now fully understand what they are, what they always were, my perception of them will always be colored a tiny bit by the existence of the other Madonna. Another example: when the Michael Bay film Armageddon came out, there were many young people who had never heard the term "Armageddon" used to describe the end of the world -- I'm sure those people, who are now adults, snicker inwardly when they hear it used in a serious context. (I was not among them, but I conjecture this is true.) These are kind of extreme versions of seeing something parodied in MAD magazine or, later, on the Simpsons, and having to go back and research the original work -- or just enjoying the parody in ignorance until finally stumbling upon the Hitchcock film or whatever in college.

It's interesting how this all bespeaks a collapsing of things into themselves and each other, another variation on humanity's fabled cultural melting pot. In some ways this is depressing; in other ways it's exciting. It used to bother me, but looking at it as a symptom of "everything becoming the same thing" makes me optimistic and happy, sort of. So how long before everything in the world is recontextualized and nothing exists solely in its original form? And what happens then?

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

OK, I Am Home

You know? Sometimes I make word choice and usage mistakes that feel so incredibly stupid that I'm convinced I have a brain tumor. But then I realize it's only stuff like saying "interject" when I should say "interrupt" or "interface" when I should say "interact," and I may be the only one who sees the mistake who even notices it. And then I realize that I will have a good night's sleep tonight in my own bed, and then I feel amazing.

My orthography remains decent.

Monday, January 4, 2010


Still not home yet. On Wednesday I will be, and won't it be grand?