I want your hand, covering my eyes as I fall asleep.
I want your hand, covering my eyes as I fall asleep.
Creating Amazon wishlists is one of the most depressing things one can do on a rainy Sunday evening; I stopped less than a third of the way through, and on my couch where I've been spending more time than by bed as of late, dreamed fog and wastewater.
"I slogged through these sewers for two years, mate, not by choice mind you, and believe me when I say I've seen some scary shit down here, but these 'people' you're talking about, they don't exist," I said to some military researcher.
"I was there less than a week, and I know they're here. Further down," he announced.
"Yeah," I said, "great, so why didn't they bother me?"
"They didn't see you as a threat," comes his smooth reply.
I can't begin to count the number of times I've woken up with some brilliant idea, almost fully formed, the words ready to come spilling out onto this digital paper, so certain I'll remember it clearly this time; when I really wake up an hour later, I of course can't remember anything, and I've never been the type to leave a legal pad next to my bed for purposes of writing these things down. The ideas are lost forever, but to be honest, I'm not sure that's a bad thing.
I think I'll go stab myself in the head now until I pass out from the blood loss.
SATs vs kitten: Fight!
Verbal - 720, 98th percentile. Math - 520, 49th percentile.
For a combined total of 1240, which I suppose could be worse. To be fair, I'm five years out of high school, and having ignored academics for that long, a 1240 isn't too terrible. Considering that I was horrible in math even when I was exposed to it on a daily basis, a 520 in that section is really more than I expected.
However, I fell just a few points shy of beating my sister, which was really my main goal. I was hoping to have something to rub in her face for the next twenty years, because frankly I'm running out of material. She had to go off and be successful, so I've been reduced to dredging up things she did when she was ten years old, in order to mock her.
In other news, two hundred and sixty eight resumes have been sent out in the past couple weeks with zero success. Not even a callback. Not one. So in the spirit of Jennifer Government I've applied to become kitten Starbucks, having run out of options.
I really thought I'd left this garbage behind, but now I'm worrying about SATs and taking menial jobs. It's like being in high school again.
I hated high school.
Thousands of enraged Cubs fans have been venting their anger on Steve Bartman, the hapless fan who reached for the always sought-after foul ball, at the moment when a Cubs outfielder was about to catch it. Bartman has been accused of making the Cubs lose the game and possibly the series - had the outfielder made the catch, the batter would have been out, but instead, Bartman's action practically knocked the ball out of Alou's glove, letting the opposing team score points.
If you're like me, you could not possibly care less. I'm only annoyed by having to hear about it constantly these days.
Ladies and gentlemen, I'm going to tell you a little secret about baseball and sports in general: It's a game. It's a group of people you've never met, most of whom are not even from the city of the team they're playing for, going against another group of people you've never met.
Sports fans somehow act as though they have personally been defeated if "their team" loses, and personally vindicated if "their team" wins. It's almost sad. I live quite a pathetic and boring existance, but at least I acknowledge it, rather than offloading my entire self-worth onto a game played by overpaid athletes who are shuffled from team to team at will.
You'll notice in the above picture and every other image of The Incident, the multitudes of fans around Bartman doing exactly what he was doing - reaching for the foul ball in hopes of getting a keepsake of the game. Had the wind been slightly different, they'd have been the assholes, but because they failed, they feel absolved of any responsibility, morally superior to the inept dumbass who lost the game for their team.
It's a symptom of a larger problem - people who take games far, far too seriously, live vicariously through things they are not responsible for, and are unable to perceive reality without a scoreboard. These are the people who can tell you which team won the game in 1985, what the infielder's statistics are, the batting average of the first baseman, but couldn't tell you who their Senator is, can't use a turn signal when driving, don't understand the difference between "your" and "you're", and are unable to know when tipping nine-hundred pound Coke machines on themselves is a bad idea.
It's a society full of people whose lives are so dead and empty that they can find nothing more meaningful to worry about than who won which game.
And you ask why I'm such a cynic.
The scores: SATs: 1, kitten: 0
By now most of you are aware that America's leading voice for the right-wing conservatives, Rush Limbaugh, has openly admitted to being addicted to and abusing prescription painkillers. Conservatives, and even some liberals, have flocked to his defense, espousing the same platitudes ad nauseum: "It could happen to anyone. He was addicted. He admits it. He's brave, being strong. It's sad."
As he openly admits,
"Over the past several years I have tried to break my dependence on pain pills and, in fact, twice checked myself into medical facilities in an attempt to do so. I have recently agreed with my physician about the next steps."In other words he abused a controlled substance because he was addicted.
But it's the same reason people use heroin. They become addicted. Yet we lock up the heroin user, and laud the painkiller user.
The double-standard applied is even more appalling when we consider that for most of his political-pundit career, Rush has derided drug users, advocated their imprisonment, and has fully supported the ill-conceived War on Drugs. Thousands, perhaps millions, tune into his show each day and have their views shaped by his words: Drug users are a menace to society. Drug users should be locked up. More police are needed, more search warrants issued. Drug users are dangerous.
The people listen to these words coming from a man who is guilty of the very same thing he is condemning.
I myself have no problem with other people taking drugs so long as they don't bother anyone else with their habit. I believe that most, if not all, drugs should be decriminalized. However, I do have a problem with hypocricy, and I do have an issue with right-wing media pundits crawling out in droves to generate support for Limbaugh, while he and they accuse addicts of other substances of being dangerous.
Is Rush a brave man? Perhaps. It certainly takes guts to admit to millions of loyal fans that you have such a serious problem. On the other hand, perhaps Rush is a coward, elicting sympathy from his listeners for being "strong", and you can bet that when he returns from rehab in thirty days, his ratings will soar into the ionosphere, and the odds of him being criminally prosecuted for abusing a controlled substance are virtually nonexistant. One could interpret his admission as being carefully timed, coming on the heels of allegations against him but before the evidence was presented; he saves face by saying it before his accusers can prove it.
Last year over 1.2 million people were arrested for mere possession of drugs - e.g., their crime was being in possession of drugs, not murder, not theft, just having drugs. Most of them were arrested for the exact same reason Rush is now in rehab: They were addicted to a controlled substance. We jail them, and offer support to Rush.
It's time we end the hypocricy.