I should try to inject the personal before I roll with political stuff. Okay. I was gonna mail Franchise his CDs but had no postal address yet, which would really help. Now, if Franchise was Santa, I coulda just wrote "Santa; North Pole" and he woulda gotten his CDs, plus lots of treacly-cute kids' Xmas cards.
So I coulda cleaned the bathroom, or gone grocery shopping but did NOT. Am I really leaving all of this til tomorrow, laundry day??
I DID do my taxes, as smatt knows; the feds owe me $1000, Virginia owes me $100. You should've seen me get pissed when I realized my IRA deduction was $1500, adjusted from the $2000 I actually put in. Then all the sudden they owe me a grand, and I was like HUH?
I read some more of my anti-capitalist imitation Tintin book. Still not used to the Cockney Tintin...and what happened to his journalism gig? Why is he "on the dole" and working in construction?
I watched the Johnny Cash thing I mentioned on the music boards.
All in all, part two of "Chris veg-ing out for the weekend" was a success.
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Now, I've mentioned before on here that Chris Hitchens is a surly debater. I don't believe I've quoted much of his writing though, which would show better why I indeed like him a lot. The following is from a book called Letters to a Young Contrarian (which I just read for a second time; it's a short, fast read), in which he pretends to be giving a student advice on being a dissenter to government and public opinion. The beginning is the ending of chapter 7, followed by the one-page chapter 8 giving exposition on the previous chapter's ending thoughts:
We are an adaptable species and this adaptability has enables us to survive. However, adaptability can also constitute a threat; we may become habituated to certain dangers and fail to recognize them until it's too late. Nuclear armaments are the most conspicuous example; as you read this you are in effect wearing a military uniform and sitting in a very exposed trench. You exist at the whim of people whose power does not derive from your consent, and who regard you as expendable, disposable. You merely failed to notice the moment at which you were conscripted. A "normal" life consits in livng as if this most salient of facts was not a fact at all.
I tell myself every day that I do not recognize the legitimacy of a government that puts me in this position. I do not grant even my "elected" leaders the power of life and death over myself, let alone over all present, future and indeed past forms of life, all of which they arrogate the right to extirpate at an instant's notice. Nor was I ever asked if I would grant that power, even supposing for a moment that I had the right to grant it on behalf of others, which I do not for a moment believe that I do.
However, when meeting a minister or senior functionary of this regime, which is a privilege I quite often enjoy, I do not act as if I am shaking Caligula's blood-bolted mitt. (I do sometimes content myself with thinking that if they knew what was in my mind and heart, they would shrivel as if cursed and blasted.) So I practice cognitive and emotional dissonance. The most I can claim is that I do it consciously, while waiting for better days.
Try your hardest to combat atrophy and routine. To question The Obvious and the given is an essential element of the maxim de omnius dubitandum.
How to ward off atrophy and routine, you ask? Well, I can give you a small and perhaps ridiculous example. Every day, the New York Times carries a motto in a box on its front page. "All the News That's Fit to Print," it says. It's been saying it for decades, day in and day out. I imagine that most readers of the canonical sheet have long ceased to notice this bannered and flaunted symbol of its mental furniture. I myself check every day to make sure that the bright, smug, pompous, idiotic claim is still there. Then I can check to make sure that it still irritates me. If I can still exclaim, under my breath, WHY do they insult me and WHAT do they take me for and what THE HELL is it supposed to mean unless it's as obviously complacent and conceited and censorious as it seems to be, then at least I know I still have a pulse.
You may wish to choose a more rigorous mental workout but I credit this daily infusion of annoyance with extending my life span.
So I coulda cleaned the bathroom, or gone grocery shopping but did NOT. Am I really leaving all of this til tomorrow, laundry day??
I DID do my taxes, as smatt knows; the feds owe me $1000, Virginia owes me $100. You should've seen me get pissed when I realized my IRA deduction was $1500, adjusted from the $2000 I actually put in. Then all the sudden they owe me a grand, and I was like HUH?
I read some more of my anti-capitalist imitation Tintin book. Still not used to the Cockney Tintin...and what happened to his journalism gig? Why is he "on the dole" and working in construction?
I watched the Johnny Cash thing I mentioned on the music boards.
All in all, part two of "Chris veg-ing out for the weekend" was a success.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Now, I've mentioned before on here that Chris Hitchens is a surly debater. I don't believe I've quoted much of his writing though, which would show better why I indeed like him a lot. The following is from a book called Letters to a Young Contrarian (which I just read for a second time; it's a short, fast read), in which he pretends to be giving a student advice on being a dissenter to government and public opinion. The beginning is the ending of chapter 7, followed by the one-page chapter 8 giving exposition on the previous chapter's ending thoughts:
We are an adaptable species and this adaptability has enables us to survive. However, adaptability can also constitute a threat; we may become habituated to certain dangers and fail to recognize them until it's too late. Nuclear armaments are the most conspicuous example; as you read this you are in effect wearing a military uniform and sitting in a very exposed trench. You exist at the whim of people whose power does not derive from your consent, and who regard you as expendable, disposable. You merely failed to notice the moment at which you were conscripted. A "normal" life consits in livng as if this most salient of facts was not a fact at all.
I tell myself every day that I do not recognize the legitimacy of a government that puts me in this position. I do not grant even my "elected" leaders the power of life and death over myself, let alone over all present, future and indeed past forms of life, all of which they arrogate the right to extirpate at an instant's notice. Nor was I ever asked if I would grant that power, even supposing for a moment that I had the right to grant it on behalf of others, which I do not for a moment believe that I do.
However, when meeting a minister or senior functionary of this regime, which is a privilege I quite often enjoy, I do not act as if I am shaking Caligula's blood-bolted mitt. (I do sometimes content myself with thinking that if they knew what was in my mind and heart, they would shrivel as if cursed and blasted.) So I practice cognitive and emotional dissonance. The most I can claim is that I do it consciously, while waiting for better days.
Try your hardest to combat atrophy and routine. To question The Obvious and the given is an essential element of the maxim de omnius dubitandum.
How to ward off atrophy and routine, you ask? Well, I can give you a small and perhaps ridiculous example. Every day, the New York Times carries a motto in a box on its front page. "All the News That's Fit to Print," it says. It's been saying it for decades, day in and day out. I imagine that most readers of the canonical sheet have long ceased to notice this bannered and flaunted symbol of its mental furniture. I myself check every day to make sure that the bright, smug, pompous, idiotic claim is still there. Then I can check to make sure that it still irritates me. If I can still exclaim, under my breath, WHY do they insult me and WHAT do they take me for and what THE HELL is it supposed to mean unless it's as obviously complacent and conceited and censorious as it seems to be, then at least I know I still have a pulse.
You may wish to choose a more rigorous mental workout but I credit this daily infusion of annoyance with extending my life span.
VIEW 7 of 7 COMMENTS
rubbersoul:
Sounds like alotta high finance there in Cheechville. Me, I'm filing an extension...I NEVER get a refund.
evel:
nothing like saline solution to find a way to a girls heart!