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Such a falling off on my LJ stats. The first thought is that it is just me, but I wonder if Halloween could be that big a celebration. If you have any kind of sexual capital, it does sound like a lot of adult fun, with the women having an excuse to let their innner-slut all out.
Nov. 1st, 2011
IHeartRetards
Nov. 1st, 2011 07:44 amIHeartRetards. She came to mind when I thought I saw her userpic at ONTD. She's a beauty, sharp and edgey. I didn't dare to ask to friend her. I checked out her LJ and I see she stopped posting in the middle of last year. It looks like she held on for a while, but gave up and stuck with Facebook.
After three straight cake breakfasts, I am still averse to hitting up the cereal. Pancakes and sausage don't really do it for me either. But at least I can eat it, for now. If it were not for the threat of acid reflux, it would probably be a dessert breakfast everyday.
Daimon asks, "Why do you always leave that little piece of sausage on your plate when you are done?"
Monk shrugs. "I don't know. I suppose an expert psychologist might make something out of it. It does smack of immaturity, doesn't it? Like a kid who leaves his bread edges."
Daimon says, "Yes, and you do that too!"
Monk smiles and nods. "Sometimes. But never all the brown edgings. Or only very rarely."
Pi says, "I have a better theory."
Daimon prods, "And what might that be?"
Pi says, "I think it is a hangover from Bo."
Monk looks at her quizzically with the slight rise of that smirk.
Pi says, "You used to give Bo some small scraps from your meals. And it strikes me that that bite of sausage would be just the perfect serving for him."
Monk smiles. He likes the idea.
Daimon chortles, "It is a pretty small piece."
Monk winces at that. Over his pettiness. He was too severe a master over his best friend, the only real friend he had in his adult life.
Pi says, "Bo was a small dog."
*******
So, Pi and Daimon make it back into my life. Reading over those old Blurty dialogues reminded me of them, and I am also back to the sort of e-loneliness that seems ideal for them.
I'm not sure that this is going to be more than a one-time thing, or a two or three time thing. I won't know how well it reads, even to me, for a couple of years. I cannot judge these things when they are fresh, even in terms of my own personal satisfaction. In five years, if I am still alive and I can read this, will I be touched and glad, or will I wince and look away. I mean, I kind of like it now, but like I said, I need some distance to really know if this is more than just the idle moment.
I was thinking of trying to better personify the voices, by using my memory of Gabe, for instance, but that relationship was too brief and fatuous to feel appropriate, and there is no one else. I don't want to always use Mother, there wasn't really that much love there.
I have thought about just making up names, with the thought that such musings could build into a novel, or at least some proper short stories.
In the end, I stuck with my two old abstract friends, materialist Daimon and idealistic Pi. It is a simple framework, but it lends a little more depth than a straight-out diary entry, and this is challenging enough for my sparse imagination.
Daimon asks, "Why do you always leave that little piece of sausage on your plate when you are done?"
Monk shrugs. "I don't know. I suppose an expert psychologist might make something out of it. It does smack of immaturity, doesn't it? Like a kid who leaves his bread edges."
Daimon says, "Yes, and you do that too!"
Monk smiles and nods. "Sometimes. But never all the brown edgings. Or only very rarely."
Pi says, "I have a better theory."
Daimon prods, "And what might that be?"
Pi says, "I think it is a hangover from Bo."
Monk looks at her quizzically with the slight rise of that smirk.
Pi says, "You used to give Bo some small scraps from your meals. And it strikes me that that bite of sausage would be just the perfect serving for him."
Monk smiles. He likes the idea.
Daimon chortles, "It is a pretty small piece."
Monk winces at that. Over his pettiness. He was too severe a master over his best friend, the only real friend he had in his adult life.
Pi says, "Bo was a small dog."
*******
So, Pi and Daimon make it back into my life. Reading over those old Blurty dialogues reminded me of them, and I am also back to the sort of e-loneliness that seems ideal for them.
I'm not sure that this is going to be more than a one-time thing, or a two or three time thing. I won't know how well it reads, even to me, for a couple of years. I cannot judge these things when they are fresh, even in terms of my own personal satisfaction. In five years, if I am still alive and I can read this, will I be touched and glad, or will I wince and look away. I mean, I kind of like it now, but like I said, I need some distance to really know if this is more than just the idle moment.
I was thinking of trying to better personify the voices, by using my memory of Gabe, for instance, but that relationship was too brief and fatuous to feel appropriate, and there is no one else. I don't want to always use Mother, there wasn't really that much love there.
I have thought about just making up names, with the thought that such musings could build into a novel, or at least some proper short stories.
In the end, I stuck with my two old abstract friends, materialist Daimon and idealistic Pi. It is a simple framework, but it lends a little more depth than a straight-out diary entry, and this is challenging enough for my sparse imagination.
peanut butter & jelly sandwich
Nov. 1st, 2011 05:08 pmPi says, "A peanut butter & jelly sandwich?"
Monk says, "Yup. It's two hours before dinner, but too late for a snack. Besides, a peanut butter & jelly sandwich is sweet and desserty enough without being nearly as bad as a couple of ice cream sandwiches, I think."
Daimon says, "Perhaps, but it is still kind of kiddie, isn't it?"
Monk says, "I guess, but that does look like where my heart lies."
Daimon laughs, "You're really getting into the teen, tweeny thing, eh?"
Monk chuckles, "Not really, I hope. Just joking. In a fatalistic kind of way."
Pi asks, "Say, Monk, are we going to be in all your entries now? I'm not complaining, just asking."
Monk says, "I hope not. In fact, the expectation of doing a dialogue seems to have raised the barrier for when to blurt out an entry, and I really don't want that to happen. I want to keep the blurty mood easygoing, easy flowing, with dialogues being for more special occasions."
Monk says, "Yup. It's two hours before dinner, but too late for a snack. Besides, a peanut butter & jelly sandwich is sweet and desserty enough without being nearly as bad as a couple of ice cream sandwiches, I think."
Daimon says, "Perhaps, but it is still kind of kiddie, isn't it?"
Monk says, "I guess, but that does look like where my heart lies."
Daimon laughs, "You're really getting into the teen, tweeny thing, eh?"
Monk chuckles, "Not really, I hope. Just joking. In a fatalistic kind of way."
Pi asks, "Say, Monk, are we going to be in all your entries now? I'm not complaining, just asking."
Monk says, "I hope not. In fact, the expectation of doing a dialogue seems to have raised the barrier for when to blurt out an entry, and I really don't want that to happen. I want to keep the blurty mood easygoing, easy flowing, with dialogues being for more special occasions."
my loose reading
Nov. 1st, 2011 05:47 pmFinished Hamlet. I am reminded of how satifying that can be. Of course, I have used the Shakespeare answer before, time and again, thinking that it is the ultimate answer to my reading needs, that I can simply reread Shakespeare forever, until something else catches my eye. Yet, I always fall off. I guess even Shakes can get a bit boring.
For my loose reading, I think I want to do "The Exorcist". The problem, of course, is that I don't have it, and I don't think I will order it until the next allowance. Fortunately, I remebered that I laid "Eisenhower 1956" aside, and now I can pick it back up. That should hold me.
For my loose reading, I think I want to do "The Exorcist". The problem, of course, is that I don't have it, and I don't think I will order it until the next allowance. Fortunately, I remebered that I laid "Eisenhower 1956" aside, and now I can pick it back up. That should hold me.
Rick Perry
Nov. 1st, 2011 08:25 pmRick Perry is now trying to sell himself as a doer, not a talker.
Not to be overly pedantic, but talking is a kind of doing. Indeed, talking is primarily how one gets things done in politics. How does Mr Perry convey that he is a doer, and not a talker? By talking. What else is there? Interpretative dance? A presidential candidate unable to best a foe in a public exchange, or to communicate his position on a complex issue when the heat is on, is about as useful as a one-legged fullback.
-- Will Wilkinson
Not to be overly pedantic, but talking is a kind of doing. Indeed, talking is primarily how one gets things done in politics. How does Mr Perry convey that he is a doer, and not a talker? By talking. What else is there? Interpretative dance? A presidential candidate unable to best a foe in a public exchange, or to communicate his position on a complex issue when the heat is on, is about as useful as a one-legged fullback.
-- Will Wilkinson