Image by Heliotrop3, used under CC license

Something I’ve noticed about the hard-right contingent: they really hate being ignored. They’re fine with being called crazy, fanatical, even fascist. But call them irrelevant or, even worse, fail to mention them at all, and they go apeshit.

For example, I always felt Ann Coulter’s increasingly bizarre pronouncements last year were her way of railing against her decline into obscurity, the equivalent of a dog peeing on the carpet to reclaim her owner’s attention. But that attention was stolen away by a new, more wholesome-looking puppy from Alaska, and poor Ann has been left to stew in her own… juices.

Witness the grandiose Tea Party plan to storm the Capitol and presumably frighten our elected representatives into killing health care reform. Teabaggers got some attention last August by going around yelling at people at town hall meetings, but that didn’t prove to be a successful way of derailing health care reform. Since then they’ve been out of the spotlight. But now, thanks to the New Sarah Palin, they’re coming back to grab fifteen more minutes of fame. I’m sure they’ll get it too, much like Balloon Boy.

The thing is, that’s their whole plan: get attention. The have no real agenda other than earning media coverage. They hope that will translate into a popular uprising against the Democrats, but they don’t really know how. It’s a bit like appearing on a reality TV show in hopes of winning an Oscar. It sort of seems possible, but the actual sequence of  events necessary to make it happen is blurry.

Never mind! Take a whizz on the floor and the rest will follow!

Look, let’s be honest here: there’s no way in hell I’m writing a novel this month. Work and other things will be driving me to distraction as usual in November. It’s my busiest time of year and the busiest year I’ve seen since I started my current job. When I’m not working, I’ll probably be either trying to make some extra cash with side projects or diving into some escapist reading.

But I appreciate the idea of National Novel Writing Month, while utterly rejecting the possibility of my own participation. And to those brave souls who are giving it a go, especially the one I know personally, I wish you the very best of luck. In solidarity, I personally pledge to write an entire blog post over the month of November.

And here it is. Bright, shiny and squeaking in at just under 150 words. I might even do two!

NaNoWriMo

Rockefeller Center by a Rainy Night by syvwich, used under a Creative Commons License

And when it comes down, will we all be swallowed in a blue-violet mist, praying to celebrity entertainers to carry us up to their high towers? Or will they go first, engulfed by an inverted deluge welling down from the sky? Will our arks be subway trains burrowing below the flood? Will parched rats scramble off looking for olive pits to bring back to show us the way to the sanctuary of RRT?

What covenant can we make in the stinking shell of Union Station? And who will be there to make it?

I wanted to write something about the demonstration in DC today that said something a little more useful than “Wow, these people are dumbasses.” I think it was going to argue that the folks who showed up at today’s event had some legitimate concerns about government intrusion into the private affairs of citizens. Or maybe I was going to say that they had simply been led astray by right-wing commentators like Glenn Beck without understanding that he’s a shill for rich corporate interests disguising himself as a populist.

Then I ran across this.

And really, despite my very best intentions, all I can think of to say is:

Wow. These people are unbelievable dumbasses.

Image by erin m, used under a Creative Commons License

Health Care, protest, teabag

Raining night, pavement… by Oimax, used under a Creative Commons License

… and when you get home, you have a coffee or a whiskey, maybe a cigarette. You put on some slow. soulful tunes and open the window so the music and the rain can harmonize.

It’s cold, and soon to be colder, but right now the water dripping down the back of your neck is just the right temperature to give you a cool shudder of pleasure. This is the kind of night that teaches you the value of being exposed, just a little.

INTERNET STATEMENT, by altemark., used under a Creative Commons license

Dammit internet, I do love you. But there’s no talking to you. You simply will not listen to reason. God knows I’ve tried, internet, but you just won’t.

It’s not just me, either. Everybody knows it. Even Flickr knows it, and Flickr’s usually all about defending your unreasonable ass.

You’re running out of friends, internet. Pretty soon it’ll just be you, 4chan and porn, all sitting around staring at each other.

Don’t come crying to me when that day comes, internet. You had your chance.

Art, flickr, grafitti, internet

Robots! Ready your breakfast and eat hearty… For tonight, we dine in Silicon Valley!, originally uploaded by atp_tyreseus., used under a Creative Commons license

can’t get here soon enough. They can’t possibly screw things up any worse than we have.

rant, Robots

My old friend Dave King has been making cartoons since we were ten years old. For many years, he did a strip called Bob ‘n’ Dave for our local college newspaper. Now (finally!) we’re starting to collect Dave’s old and new work on a website, which is officially being launched… right now!

Behold: www.kingcartoons.com

Web design by yours truly, btw. Enjoy!

DSCN1767, originally uploaded by Dr. Gianluigi “Zane” Zanettini, CEO [MegaLab.it]., used under a Creative Commons license

The photographer is apparently Italian. I don’t know Italian, so I have no explanation. But you have to admire his… something. Sense of color coordination? Maybe that’s it.

cape, pink sweater, spider

photo by Jason Tavares., used under a Creative Commons license

A successful blog has a few easily identifiable characteristics. To whit:

1. Regular posts, by which I mean like three or four new ones a day

2. An easily identifiable theme, like cute animals or food

3. Copious links to other people’s websites, often done with the understanding that the other folks will reciprocate

My formula, on the other hand:

1. Posting when I have the time and feel like it

2. Posting on any old random subject that comes to mind

3. You consarn kids and yer dad-blamed “hyperlinks”

I have tried the super-specific blog thing, but honestly it just gets too boring after a while. I’m interested in a really wide variety of topics: art, history, music, science, food, politics, humor – the list goes on and on. Confining myself to doing a blog about cute animals – even a really funny one – would just drive me nuts.

I think my friend Benchilada has it right. He writes about lots of different topics, but he does it all in an unmistakable, unique voice. Granted, he also has to deal with a lot of neurochemical issues that I don’t share, but it does give him something to talk about, and he does it really well.

So yeah, I’m probably not destined for internet superstardom here. But I’ll make you a deal, hypothetical reader: I’ll post something new and interesting every once in a while if you drop by and read this blog from time to time. If nothing else, I’ll try to have a fresh pot of linky goodness ready when you stop in.

fame, links, money

I love gadgets. Whether they’re nuts and bolts or made of code, litlle gizmos that do cool stuff are a constant source of delight.

But.

Pile one on top of the other, and another on top of that, and  they stop being so cool. How many websites have you seen with so many little flashing boxes and buttons that you can’t tell what the point of the site is? And how many of us, and I definitely include myself in this, have a desk so covered in wires, connectors, power cords and carrying cases that we don’t even remember what they’re all for?

There’s always the temptation to add just one more cool thing to our collection. I do it less than many people I know, but way more than others. And it’s not just that these things take up space. They can also be huge time sinks. I mean, if you have the toy, you’re obligated to play with it, right?

Simplification seems like the answer, but I’m not even sure where to start. I can see giving away all my extraneous widgets, except I feel like I have play with them just one last time.

Or maybe two…

Parrot – Jardim dos Louros, Funchal, Madeira, originally uploaded by Joao Maximo., used under a Creative Commons license

I dunno why. Maybe because it’s summer. Maybe it’s a tribute to all those parrotheads out there who are getting their margaritas on.

Or maybe because they are just so screamingly unlikely. I mean, a big tropical bird that comes in a variety of intense colors, might live a hundred years and can also talk? Yeah, right!

Whatever. Please just enjoy this delicious eye-candy. And if you’re tempted to keep a parrot as a pet, make sure it hasn’t been smuggled into the country in someone’s pants!

I've ruined an otherwise very pleasant day by watching the Illinois General Assembly drill big holes in the ship of state's hull. I need a tonic and so do you. So please enjoy these kittens riding a robot vacuum cleaner:

Anne makes robots. Now Anne makes robot videos.

I think what I like about fungus is the direct example it provides of new life arising from rot. True, fungus often looks bizarre and even disturbing, but you can’t deny it has a complex (and very often gorgeous) structure. That these new forms are sustained by decaying plant and animal life is to me a hopeful thing.

We’re currently surrounded by signs of rot. Some examples: The economy is nosediving.Our government continues to show signs of succumbing to corruption. The cancerous growth of bigotryis eating whatever goodwill last fall’s elections helped foster.

All true, and all real dangers. But if things really are collapsing, maybe we can take some comfort from our fungal friends. Our world may all be falling apart, but who knows what new and fantastic structures may grow on its carcass?

The Green Man shows up all over medieval European architecture (although this one is in Central Illinois). He’s a sort of vegetable deity, associated with rain and fertility. Mythical vegetable gods can be found everywhere from Mexico to Tibet.

Stories of male gods who go through a cycle of death and rebirth (think Odin, Osiris, or Jesus) are also associated with the Green Man, who follows the changing seasons. Oddly, lots of Christian churches are adorned with this pagan deity. Chalk it up to the early church appropriating local folklore to grease the conversion skids.

I myself am in no danger of any sort of spiritual conversion. I just think the Green Man looks cool. We’re getting a lot of rain around here lately, and those ultra-vibrant, early spring greens are just coming on.  You can practically hear the flowers breaking free of the damp earth. It’s Green Man weather!

Edit: And bringing Green Man into the modern world, there’s this.

How’s a fella supposed to evolve with all these consarn tectonic shenanigans going on?

Seriously, I may be three hundred and six, but I can still give you a hiding like you’ll never forget! Go erupt on some dad-blamed tourists and leave me alone!

[spits]

Oh meaty, slimy thing
born of spores as fine as dust
reversing the rot
flesh to fungus
fungus to flesh

You smell terrible, dear
in carcass drag as flybait
becoming your prey
flora to offal
offal to flora

After eight days of this bastard cold, I can say without doubt that there is nothing cute or endearing about it. I’d also like to point out to my immune system that the idea is to attack the invader, not the host body. So little more search-and-destroy and a little less carpet-bombing my lungs with mucus, thanks.

But I like the idea of plushy virus toys. Sort of takes the taint of evil off the little buggers.

Also, the word “blogging” accurately describes the sound of me hacking phlegm out of my lungs at two in the morning. So I guess that makes me a double blogger.

Ugh.