David's Last Outpost

State of Confusion, California-style

2009-09-09T21:24:00.000-07:00

As a follow-up to my earlier posts about my problems with Medi-Cal, I thought I'd post an update. Yesterday I received a notice from the County of San Diego that amounted to "nevermind."

The notice was automatically generated, stating that the county had received the "information that we needed" and would reinstate my Medi-Cal benefits. So, the whole imbroglio amounted to nothing, other than a waste of my time, my attorney's, and the county's itself. One wonders how often my little scenario has been repeated statewide, since the governor, allied with obstinate Republicans in the legislature, took a meat cleaver to government.

It seems the governor of this fine state hasn't realized that cutting 24% of the state's budget would have dire consequences, not only for the recipients of state services, but for the proper functioning of the state itself. If the State of California were a body, it's as if Surgeon Arnold cut off a leg and grabbed a crutch. You just can't hobble along on a crutch as easily as you can on your own two sturdy legs.

As the impaired state stumbles toward a near-complete breakdown, everyone will suffer. This is true not just for California's millions of residents, but for every American citizen. The decline and fall of the world's 6th largest economy will drag the whole nation down with it. The great inefficiencies induced by the recent decimation of California's budget will compound exponentially, possibly impeding the state's economic recovery indefinitely.

Grover Norquist, Republican strategist, once said that he wanted to shrink government down to the size where he could "drown it in the bathtub." Based on my experience, the rising tide of anti-government nihilism will sink all boats.

When I Have Fears...

2009-09-02T20:56:00.000-07:00

When I have fears that I may cease to be
Before my pen has glean'd my teeming brain,
Before high piled books, in charact'ry,
Hold like rich garners the full-ripen'd grain;
When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face,
Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,
And think that I may never live to trace
Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance;
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour!
That I shall never look upon thee more,
Never have relish in the faery power
Of unreflecting love;—then on the shore
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think,
Till Love and Fame to nothingness do sink.

My Annual Fight with Medi-Cal

2009-08-26T15:26:00.000-07:00

I just got a "Notice of Action" from Medi-Cal yesterday that they will discontinue my benefits on August 31. Of course, I immediately filed an appeal and mailed it off. Many recipients may not be aware (the information is in small, unreadable print on the back of the denial letter), but you can protect your benefits indefinitely by filing an appeal within 90 days of the Notice of Action.

In the notice, they claim I did not return my annual redetermination forms. However, I never received the redetermination forms this year. Their claim is bogus. I have dwelled in my apartment for 17 years, and I would have immediately filled out the forms, had I seen them in my mail.

I am frankly sick and tired of the state discontinuing my Medi-Cal every single year! How many times have I had to file appeals? Last summer I got the cut-off notice as I was lying in my hospital bed recovering from major surgery. The added stress did not help my healing process, obviously. That year, I had mailed in the redetermination forms on time, with a registered mail receipt from the agency, yet they still tried to discontinue my healthcare. The year before that, they tried to discontinue my coverage due to not having received my forms, even though the forms had been languishing on my social worker's desk for six weeks while he took a family vacation to his homeland in Egypt.

I’m beginning to think the state is singling out the “working disabled” like me for extra attention, in an attempt to hassle them off the Medi-Cal enrollment. I have asked Aleyda Toruno, my attorney at California Disability Rights, if she's ever heard of a client with as many erroneous discontinuations as I have experienced. My rough guess is, she hasn't encountered a client as persecuted as I have been.

Furthermore, I believe that these annual threats to discontinue my healthcare constitute a violation of my civil rights. When the state threatens to cut off the coverage of a person on life support, that is the equivalent of a death threat. A stranger would be arrested for showing up at my door and attempting to unplug my ventilator. By what right can the state claim to do the same thing?

Why is it only the crazed, right-wingnuts who yell and scream about their government? We, the disability community, are too docile. Our representative democracy has degenerated into mob-rule (the very thing feared by Hobbes, in "Leviathan.") The oppressed need to get out their pitchforks and torches too.

The Irrationality of the Free Market

2009-08-21T16:16:00.000-07:00

I've been reading the new book, "Cheap," by Ellen R. Shell. It's a study of the latter 20th centuy's drive to push prices downward, and thereby devalue labor and destroy the very middle class supposedly being served by Wal-Mart, Target, and even Ikea.

The part of the book I'm reading now deals with the psychology of price. What constitutes a bargain? What is the most fitting price for an item? What is the psychology of mega-stores like Costco, which herd customers like cattle, from stall to stall until the finally reach the exit gates?

What I find fascinating is that people's decisions to shop are not driven wholly by reason. Prices can be manipulated to activate the more primitive segments of the brain; the portions that pre-date most higher-level consciousness. Stores price items at $9.99 because they know that our brains see that as $9.00, not "virtually" $10.00. Even though we're aware of the trickery, we still fall for it. Our deep brains can't resist a good bargain.

Which brings me to ponder the current myth of the "heathcare market." Amazingly, "conservatives" like Huckabee and Palin, who go through all kinds of half-assed contortions to argue against CO2-induced climate change, or to reconcile Bronze Age creation myths with modern-day fossil evidence, suddenly transform themselves into 18th century Rationalists when it comes to market theory.

The argument seems to come down to "give people a choice, and they'll always choose what's best for them." Like Rousseau and Locke, the free-marketeers are wholly trusting in people's ability to act in their own best interest. From the American Civil War, to Germany's twin disasters in the two world wars, we can see that people often choose what's WRONG for themselves, based on emotive factors not completely under their control. These very factors are easily manipulated by those who can profit from humanity's tendency to act on baser instincts.

So, these Lockeans believe that if we give people access to hundreds of insurance policies, they'll select the best. Yet they buttress their arguments with appeals to fear and anger on the part of the masses: Obama's birth certificate, Hitlerism, "death panels," forced abortions.

The very reason we need government intervention in the medical marketplace is that insurance, like all other goods, can be manipulated by the corporate power structure against the best interests of the citizenry.

It's time to pay more attention to Hobbes, and less to Locke (the eternal dichotomy of American governmental philosophy).

The Folly of Health Insurance Reform

2009-08-14T16:28:00.000-07:00

I was just watching Michael Medved on MSNB's "The Ed Show" saying, "Most Americans don't want government healthcare, they want INSURANCE REFORM." In an odd coincidence, I taught Michael's snotty litte brother, Ben, in my first Muir Writing class at UCSD in 1978. Anyway, Michael isn't one of the neo-fascist screamers of the Limbaugh and Savage ilk. He at least couches his words in reason.

The problem with insurance-only reform is that it will merely inflate the Ponzi scheme we've already got. I saw Elizabeth Edwards state on the "Daily Show" that at one time a single insurance company CEO made 1 in every $700 spent on healthcare in this country. ONE CEO!

The type of reform Republicans endorse, eliminating pre-existing condition exclusions and requiring that all be insured, will simply add to all our health insurance costs. Why? Because insurance companies will use the new rules to jack up rates. Their excuse will be that covering the truly sick is expensive, and all these government regulations constitute an onerous burden. Their solution will be increased government subsidies to cover their inflated premiums. They'll make money coming and going.

So-called insurance reform, without a government plan to compete, will merely prolong the agony of our intractible and slowly dying system. For-profit insurance will continue to demand its 30% overhead, and that CEO will continue to aggregate his salary. For insurance companies, "single-payer" means we, the rate payers and taxpayers, will continue to pay singularly exhorbitant salaries to their CEOs.

Snivelling Religious Hypocrites

2009-06-24T16:51:00.000-07:00

Who cannot help but laugh at Mark Sanford, Senator Ensign, Larry Craig, David Vitter? These snivelling, holier-than-though hypocrites fall one by one. Yet, they continue with the chief error of their ways, even as the blubber in self-pity before the TV cameras. "I've committed a SIN," they repeat like a scatalogical mantra.

My point: Who cares about your sin? We the people don't care about your personal sins; we care about LAW and POLICY. These Republican sex addicts continue to conflate the Bible, which they invariably quote, with the Constitution, which they routinely ignore. They who sat in pompous and pious judgment over Clinton now should face full public wrath over their hypocrisy. If they were fully Christian, they would follow Christ's counsel to "take the log out of your own eye before you remove the mote from your neighbor's eye."

Palin: 0, Letterman: 1

2009-06-12T15:27:00.000-07:00

WTF is up with that guttersnipe Sarah Palin? She comes across as shrill and defensive. Was her daughter not knocked up, and paraded around the Republican convention with her ex-boyfriend? As soon as I saw that kid sitting next to Palin's daughter at the convention, I told my nurse, "That kid really doesn't want to be there."

If Palin wants to keep Letterman away from her daughter, she needs to stop making her an example for teen mothers. Stick her in the trailer where she belongs.

Support Letterman, and send Palin back to her tweaker's paradise burg in Alaska. Anyone who shoots wolves from helicopters deserves all the scorn and ridicule we can heap on them.

Long time, no writee

2009-06-12T15:20:00.000-07:00

Well, it's been a long time since I've visited this blog. Everything has pretty much been moved to MySpace, and now even that's being replaced by Facebook, or as I like to call it, Wastebook. Then there's Fritter, or... Twitter. We all now compress our thoughts into 140-character slots.

I'll see if I can revive this blog somehow, perhaps by linking it to the other social networking sites. If nothing else, I should archive it, because some of my favorite writing since 2003 is lying fallow here.

First, They Came for the Doctors

2009-06-10T13:32:00.000-07:00

First, Scott Roeder, now the Holocaust Museum shooter. The wingnuts are growing bolder and more dangerous. Is there anything more quintessentially American than the lone gunman festering in his mother's basement?

I hear and see the growing hatred of these angry little men, on talk radio and the Internet especially. Rush Limaugh, Bill "Louffa" O'Reilly, Michael Savage: You all have blood on your hands!

"Happiness is a warm gun," wrote John Lennon, who himself was the tragic victim of a lone nutjob's weapon. Is there any surprise that the right-wing kooks are also rabid in their defense of so-called "Second Amendment Rights"?

I think we all need to be prepared for an upswing in violence on the part of that tiny minority who cannot accept that America is changing under their feet. First, they come after the abortionists, then the Jews... No one is safe from the hate-mongering.

Empathy, Schmempathy

2009-05-27T13:02:00.000-07:00

"Oh, Cold-hearted Orb that Rules the Night" -- Thy Name is Rush Limbaugh!

I laugh when I hear the Republicans cry about "empathy." They want a judge lacking in what anthropology has proven to be the most human quality: a feeling of mutual identity with another person. But until the Japanese invent Robo-judge, we're going to be stuck with real human beings in the courts, taking both the law and their own backgrounds into account.

What the pro-lifers fear is that "empathy" is a synonym for pro-abortion. That is, an empathetic judge would necessarily sympathize with the plight of living unwed mothers over that of their unborn child. They want to bar all emotion, ruling solely as Strict Constructionists on the literal meaning of the Constitution.

But is this really true? Are pro-lifers not motivated by empathy for fetuses? The blood-spattered baby carriages suborned by the followers of Randall Terry would seem to argue otherwise.

If the US Constitution allowed for the burning of babies on the Altar of Baal, would these strict constructionists be so adamant in setting aside emotion in favor of legalistic minimalism?

"Well, yes Ma'am, we understand you don't belive in child sacrifice, but the Constitution permits it. The LAW is the LAW."

I suspect some of these conservatives, who also form the ranks of the torture supporters among us, would stand with Roland Freisler in support of the Nuremburg Race Laws. After all, if it's the law, it's legal by definition.

Ad astra per mortem

2009-05-06T02:14:00.000-07:00

I found this quotation today on Roger Ebert's journal. It's from Vincent van Gogh, on the journey from life to the stars:

Looking at the stars always makes me dream, as simply as I dream over the black dots representing towns and villages on a map. Why? I ask myself, shouldn't the shining dots of the sky be as accessible as the black dots on the map of France? Just as we take a train to get to Tarascon or Rouen, we take death to reach a star. We cannot get to a star while we are alive any more than we can take the train when we are dead. So to me it seems possible that cholera, tuberculosis and cancer are the celestial means of locomotion. Just as steamboats, buses and railways are the terrestrial means. To die quietly of old age, would be to go there on foot.

I go there on wheels, or like a spark when the light switch is flicked off. Where does it go? The stars were aborning 13 billion years ago and their light reaches us just now from across the painted ceiling of the universe. It took Michelangelo to paint God on the Cistine Chapel; what God paints us on the frescoes of the sky?

Genetics and Families

2009-04-15T15:10:00.000-07:00

Today I signed up for genetic testing at FamilyTreeDNA.com: https://www.familytreedna.com/

I've always been interested in my background, and even though I'm aware of the limitations of this kind of testing, I feel it's worth a try. My biological father's side, the Clements family, supposedly are part Native American (Florida Seminole), and my mom's family claimed to be descendents of the original 1620 Pilgrims, including Roger Williams (founder of Rhode Island).

I'll keep you posted on the results, and whether they meet or exceed my expectations.

American Psycho, Redux

2009-04-03T14:01:00.000-07:00

I just saw the breaking news about the crazed lone gunman in Binghamton, New York. What is it about the American psyche that leads a laid-off IBM employee to grab his personal arsenal and slay 15 innocent bystanders? Remember last week's lone maniac at the nursing home in Alabama?

Certainly guns don't "cause" the problem of these mass slaughters. But, they contribute by making the killing easier and faster. Was this what the Founding Fathers meant by a "Well-regulated militia"? Our gun mania, combined with an insatiable appetite for self-gratification via illicit drugs, has led to the near-disintegration of Mexican society. The drug cartels buy their weapons in the US, then transport them across the border to wreak havoc. Unfortunately, our own government is so cowered by the gun lobby that they are afraid to take on the NRA and institute real gun regulation, even for semi-automatic weapons.

Violence begets violence. Jesus said it, but this so-called Judeo-Christian nation has run the trolley off the tracks. What really scares the bejeebus out of me is that some paranoid whackjob in an Idaho trailer or a lonely corner of his mom's basement will take seriously the blubbering mania of Glen Beck and take a shot at one of our leaders. I worry about it every day, as the Republicans become increasingly marginalized and the President grows ever more popular.

On Lance Armstrong's Nuts & Bolts

2009-03-27T15:04:00.000-07:00

I noted with interest today the CNN stories on Lance Armstrong's "medical miracle": his bolted-together broken shoulder blade. It's great that doctors are able to put in the screws, bars, and nuts to reassemble the great cyclist's shoulder. But it brings me back to a point that's often on my mind: doctors seem to favor fixing the "healthy" rather than performing the hard work of improving the lives of people with disabilities.

When I suffered the compound fracture of my right leg in 2004, the surgeon chose to fundamentally let my leg heal "as-is." "Your bones are too fragile to put screws in," he announced, which shouldn't be a big deal because "you aren't going to run or ski anyway." So, now I have a short leg, Toulouse Lautrec-style, with a knotted up shin bone that looks like I'm carrying around a baseball inside my leg, when you look at the X-ray films.

My 53 years as a patient in the medical world, makes me believe that the profession, like any other, prefers the easy cases. A cab driver would rather collect a hefty fare for driving an old lady around the block, than picking up three black guys in the hood. A TV repairman would rather order a replacement from the factory than rip the case off an old-fashioned tube TV. Doctors would rather treat a single malfunction in an otherwise healthy patient, than trouble themselves with the difficult choices a disability presents. It's totally understandable, of course--we're all human and we all prefer to walk downhill than to climb a ladder.

So--go, Lance! Win one for the team! But hey, doc--don't forget about the hard cases, too!

Do you ever feel like...

2009-03-07T16:25:00.000-08:00

... Your insides have been reassembled by the Flying Spaghetti Monster? Well, that's been my life for the past 7 months. Will it ever end? Where's my Oxycodone?

Rush Limbaugh is a Big, Fat Idiot

2009-03-04T16:25:00.000-08:00

When Rush Limbaugh coined the term, “Porkulus,” I was certain he was talking about himself! He obviously has some self-loathing and body-image problems, LOL. That being said, he is first and foremost an entertainer, and he cries all the way to the bank. That’s cool; he, his cat, and his oxycontin are part of what makes America great, as long as he has an audience. However, since he is a comedian, I have a hard time taking anything he says seriously. For example, he used to rant that the Constitution contains no right to privacy, and all druggies should be tossed into the slammer, yet when he was busted, the first thing he did was get his lawyer to whine that his rights to privacy had been violated. Did he learn anything? Apparently not, as a few years later he was busted at the airport with a bottle of someone else’s Viagra. Oh, and why does a big, fat, divorced slob like him need Viagra anyway? If he’s so moral, he should remain celibate.

What I don’t like about him is his wishing Obama will fail. Like it or not, Obama will be our president for the next four years. I always liked Bush as a person, even though he was the worst president in the past 70 years. And I didn’t hope he would fail; rather, I feared he would, and he lived down to the fears. So yes, I “like” and admire Obama, and hope for the best. It’s either that or get the Canadian Visa ready! Hehehe....

There is definitely a lot of crap buried in the stimulus bill, and I think Republicans and Democrats in the Senate will make it much better. If they don’t, that’s why we have elections every 2, 4, and 6 years. ....

A Few Thoughts on Military Engagement

2009-03-04T16:06:00.000-08:00

President Obama's recent decision regarding Iraq deployment of our troops, and the eventual withdrawal of combat forces, led me to thinking about some people's political responses to any criticism of the war. Any truly just war cannot be the sole domain of a single political party or philosophy. So, I wrote the reply below to a veteran on another site who seems, like so many of the older vets from the 60s, to still be fighting "hippies" who "diss" our troops.

There has never been a nation in the history of the world, which has not found it necessary to expend its blood and treasure in war. Every country has its Honored Dead whose graveyards lie strewn about distand landscapes. This applies even to nations we have defeated, such as Germany's Bittburg military cemetary (which Reagan took flak for visiting in the 1980s).

While we all should remain cognizant and grateful for the sacrifices of individual servicemen and women, we should not delude ourselves into the belief that there is some unique, solely American reason for engaging in war. "War is diplomacy by other means," it was once said -- and not said by an American.

The military should not be deployed overseas for ideological reasons; rather a "just war" should be fought when necessary for the defense of the nation, not to build an ephemeral democracy in countries whose civilizations arose when our European ancestors were still living in caves. Leave politics aside when discussing our military and its sacrifices, and don't demean their necessary work by belaboring some illusory hippies from the 1960s.

Christ once said, "Let the dead bury the dead." And so it shall always be....

Tweeting with Twitter

2009-02-26T16:22:00.000-08:00

Well, all the stories about the Congress members "Tweeting" during the president's speach got me interested. So, you can now follow my exciting life at this URL: http://twitter.com/WriterDavid

Tooth & Nail

2009-02-19T15:30:00.000-08:00

So, I went to the Dentist on Monday. "Dr. B" looked at the X-ray of the space between molars where the crown used to be, and said, "the tooth is cracked. You'll have to visit an oral surgeon to have it removed." Holy Toothless Joe, Batman! It seems like I spend half my life at the dentist anymore, at least the half I don't already spend at some other doctor's office. Sigh...

So, next Wednesday, it's off to the oral surgeon. At least his office is in Mira Mesa, so it's not a long drive.

Coraline: La Belle Dame

2009-02-16T16:56:00.000-08:00

So, I dragged myself and Harold out of the apartment Saturday night and saw "Coraline" in 3D at the Mira Mesa Edwards. The film was quite enjoyable. If nothing else, it's worth seeing for Henry Selick's artistic mastery of the stop-motion form.

Story-wise, I found the film entertaining, but a little flat compared to Tim Burton's efforts in the genre. If "Nightmare Before Christmas" were a 10, and "Corpse Bride" an 8, then "Coraline" would be a 7.5. I think what Neil Gaiman's plot attempted to achieve, yet missed, was the whimsy of the Burton films, even going back so far as "Beetle Juice."

The story has a decent pedegree, with the villainness strongly resembling Cruella DeVille from the Disney Dalmations film, with a little Ozian Wicked Witch and Wonderland Red Queen thrown in for good measure. Gaiman knows his modern mythology. The "smothering mother" is a nightmare we all can share; at least those of us with a mother! The cat, "wuss puss," was a little Puss n' Boots, and a lot Cheshire Cat. He was one of my favorite characters.

Tim Burton accomplishes something I like to call the "happy macabre," making his stories a visit to death and decay that you're actually glad to have embarked upon. For all Coraline's struggles, in the end, hers is just a slightly dark, scary spider story.

A very good work; only a near miss on greatness. Nevertheless, I intend to buy the Blu-Ray when it comes out for sale.

An Uneventful Friday (which is a good thing)!

2009-01-30T14:46:00.000-08:00

Today has been a fairly peaceful day. I've spent most of it reading, both online and off. At least the coffee is good!

I was watching Chris Matthews on MSNBC a while ago. What a grinning idiot. He's amused by Blago, and Rush Limbaugh, when he should be serious about the national disgrace. He claims, "the president made a mistake when he took on Rush Limbaugh." Oh, really? The President's not trying to change the mind of the dittoheads; that would be like reanimating zombies and teaching them not to eat brains.

Limbaugh coined the term "Porkulus" for the stimulus package. Really, he was hoisting himself on his own petard. Who better fits the moniker, Porkulus, than the big, fat, drug-addicted pig himself? Porkulus, bend over and grab your ankles, as you're fond of saying, because we're comin' for ya!

In the meantime, tomorrow is shaping up to be a busy day. Meeting with Bonni and Stef in the morning, and SD Symphony with my parents that night. I'm looking forward to the fun! I don't get out as often as I'd like anymore, though I'm not as bad as my roommate, who stays inside his chamber 23/7. But then again, those noxious clouds of pungeant smoke emanating from under his door probably explain his lassitude.

Stimulate This!

2009-01-28T18:32:00.000-08:00

So, California is destined to receive $32 billion from the Obama stimulus package. A lot of the aid will go towards healthcare, especially our ailing Medicaid system (known as Medi-Cal in California). But, is our illustrious "governator" happy? Not at all. He believes "California should solve its own problems by ouselves." WTF?

In other words, the Shwartzy wants to take a meat axe to the state public heathcare system; it's always been a Republican wet-dream, to kill the poor off. Who needs the poor, the sick, the elderly anyway? In mythic Conan times, they would have just exposed the sick, given hemlock to the old, and driven the poor to be serfs on a noble's estate. Paradoxically, the people who decry evolution as "Darwinism" comprise the largest number of social Darwinists.

This reminds me of Mayor Sanders (of San Diego), another Republican do-nothing. He announced a few weeks ago that he doesn't want to spend any incoming federal infrastructure money on our new downtown library (which was postponed to build a ballpark for one of baseball's most inept teams) because "the rest of the money should come from private donors." Again, WTF? In a time when even millionaires are tightening their belts, where does Mayor Head-in-the-Sanders expect to discover a plethora of private donors?

People who voted for these morons should have their License to Vote revoked.

Wind Chill Fascism

2009-01-27T00:07:00.000-08:00

Well, it's 40 degrees outside, here in lovely Mira Mesa. For San Diego city, that's downright frigid. Although I'm a fan of cool weather, this temperature makes me glad to be inside my cozy apartment, drinking coffee, and reading the news. I expect to miss these nights soon enough--by the end of the week we'll be back to 80-degree Santa Ana winds. "Here come those Santa Ana winds again," Becker and Fagin once wrote.

Other than that, it's been a fairly craptacular day. It started off with the ventilator flashing "HW Fault," and Minda the nurse frantically trying to figure out what was wrong. The problem resolved after a call or three to the respiratory care people, who explained to her how to remove and vacuum out the small, rectangular filter on the side of the vent. These newer style vents, like my LTV 800, run a turbine that pushes air in and out of the circuit (tubing). They are basically a computer with a turbine attached, inside a box about the size of a laptop computer. And like any computer, they are prone to overheating if the fan ducts get clogged. Sigh...

Speaking of computers, my laptop computer is completely hosed for now. Harold evidently caught the "MS Antivirus" malware during one of his late-night porn junkets. Basically, it's a mechanical-electronic STD. Brad, my roommate, spent an hour trying to get an anti-malware program installed on the machine, but evidently the script that runs the malware is smart enough to intercept it and stop the installation. We'll keep trying, but I suspect a reformat and reinstall of Windows is in the works.

This is the second machine that Harold has bollixed up, in three years. I don't know what to do with him. He's almost proud of being computer-ignorant, and I sometims suspect he's got some passive-aggressive need to sabotage the computers. I only wish he'd take out his anger issues on someone else's machines! He screwed himself too, though, because his son's science project is on it, and the whole thing will have to be wiped, I'm pretty sure.

I did buy a neat little WD backup external drive on Saturday. Tonight I'll be backing up my desktop, which is crucial. If H. had waited one more week to screw things up, both the laptop and desktop would have been safeguarded.
Ah, well, what are friends for? Apparently to reinforce the need to counter righteous anger with bouts of Christian forgiveness.

Prosecute Bush!

2009-01-25T23:06:00.000-08:00

At first, I was against the notion of prosecuting Bush administration officials for high crimes. I believed, as does President Obama, that we should look forward, not back, at that legal proceedings would merely give the wingnuts ammunition for vicious partisan attacks, as well as a bully pulpit to slam Democrats as "traitors".

However, as time has passed, and I see the president's efforts to accomodate the Republicans thrown back in his face (look at McCain's denunciation of the Stimulus Plan today, for example), I have concluded it's high time to draw blood (metaphorically speaking) in the ongoing struggle to retake America from the fascists and Christianists. Remember your words, Mr. President: "I won." Now is the time to act like we WON.

Medical Mystery Tour

2009-01-19T22:24:00.000-08:00

Three things have been aggravating me about the world of medicine this week. First of all, I was supposed to go into Sharp Hospital's "Outpatient Pavilion" on Wednesday to have drainage tubes put in my ears.* Yes, it's the same little operation kids have all the time. When I was young, I never had ear infections, so my hearing has always been excellent, and I never needed tubes. However, after my 5-week ordeal, lying on my back in the hospital last summer and fall, I started having hearing problems, like I had cotton in both ears. I can still hear, but get to annoy everyone by blasting my 5.1 surround sound system through the apartment complex whenever Keith Olbermann engages in another diatribe against Bush.

So anyway, my surgeon from last summer recommended an ENT guy to "fix" my ears. After three visits, he resigned himself to having to operate to insert the tubes. Subsequent to scheduling the surgery at the "Pavilion" last week, I got a call today from the hospital's nurse telling me they can't accept me for outpatient surgery. Why? Because they require that outpatients be ambulatory. What the bloody hell? "Fire regulations," the friendly nurse, Dorothy, told me. "You have to be able to transfer yourself and walk in case of an emergency."

Does the above make any sense to you? How can any patient who's just been subject to anesthesia be expected to walk out of the hospital? Wheelchair or not, I feel this is descriminatory treatment, and I may call Protection and Advocacy tomorrow to see what their opinion says. Now I have to wait for a call from the ENT doc's nurse tomorrow, telling me when I have to go to the main hospital. They haven't informed me yet if I'll have to be admitted overnight, or if I can just drop by for a few hours. Whatever the case, I intend to ask for plenty of Dilaudid!

Meanwhile, I was talking over my medications today with Minda, one of my home care nurses. There was some confusion over how much Bactrim I should take each night, because the pill bottle from the pharmacy contradicts what the doctor told me. Well, I tried calling my urologist's office to get the issue straightened out, only to find out his number has been disconnected, "... and there is no new number." Evidently he retired last October, and neglected to inform me. Isn't there some kind of ethical problem here? Or am I just too demanding? What if I'd come down with a UTI and urgently needed my Cipro refilled? Finally, I called 411, and got connected to the doctor's old voice mail. A female operator robotically assured me I can obtain my medical records by sending a check for $20 to the doctor's PO box.

Now, maybe if I had been a brand-new patient, I could understand better the urologist's forgetting to inform me of his retirement, but I have been seeing this guy for 20 years. I always thought professionalism demanded that a doctor retiring would take on a new partner, and refer his old patients to the new guy, or at least find another guy to take the practice. Professionalism, like Chivalry, seems to be taking a dirt nap.

Then, lastly, my nurse was having a hissy fit because the meds on my chart don't always match exactly what I've been taking. The agency and the nurses treat me like a child. I apparently surrendered my right to consult a doctor on my own when I undertook home nursing care. Again, what the bloody HELL?

Years ago, I got an autographed copy of a Dr. Seuss book about being in the hospital. The elderly lady friend who gave me the book was an acquaintance of Ted Geisel. She confessed to me that Geisel had wanted to make the book a lot stronger, but was afraid of "what they'd do to him."

Why does "patient" have to equal "object," or "victim"? Stop with the reification already! I would like to do away with the term "patient" and just have it replaced by "client." A "patient," after all, is (based on the French root word) merely "one who waits." Doctors and nurses should wait on US; we should not be subservient to their convenience.

* Yes, "Pavilion." Doesn't that Newspeak sound so much better than "hospital," or "clinic"? It reminds me of the old Far Side cartoon, where the dog leaned his head out the car window and bragged to the cat on the sidewalk, "Haha! I'm going to the vet's to be tutored!"

Another Holiday Passes Us By

2009-01-02T18:42:00.000-08:00

Christmas 2008 seemed fairly identical to that of the previous few years. We had dinner at my parents' house, followed by presents, all on Christmas Eve as we traditionally enjoy it. Dorene, Rich, and the boys werre there, as were Alicia, Tien, and their brood of boys. Dorene had two foster boys with us. One was named "Omar," and I can't remember the name of the second one.
My parents are always very generous, and give presents even to the foster kids, who change from Christmas to Christmas. As for myself, presents with a high cool factor were hard to come by. I did get a new red flannel night shirt, a Simpsons Calendar, and a couple of B&N gift cards. Yay! All these things were on my list, so I guess it's a prime example of "be careful what you ask for." ;)
The day after Christmas, Harold and I trundled off to the local Worst Buy. Once inside the store, I made a beeline to the video game section and purchased an XBox 360 Elite. The device comes with two free games, which I haven't even opened yet. I have spent some time playing the latest version of CoD, but don't feel competent enough yet to plunge into online play. I'd rather not look like a total noob!
Meanwhile, I've also played some WOW as Karnakk, my 55 Orc Hunter. I've been trying to get him to 55 so I can start a Death Knight character. Stay tuned! Yes, it's a game-playing time of year. :) The weather outside is cool, and Harold won't relinquish "his" van anyway. I had wanted to go with Corky to the Autoshow, but couldn't do it without transportation. Sigh...
On the other hand, my parents did come over for New Years Eve. My mom brought the new "Mamma Mia" DVD I had bought her for Christmas. Yikes! Gayest film I've ever seen... It makes "Brokeback Mountain" look like "Rooster Cogburn." But more on that later.
Happy New Year to all!
David

Bush Gets the Shoe!

2008-12-14T22:48:00.000-08:00

Iraq's Funniest Home Videos. The Great Misunderestimator takes one for the team!

Boycott Alabama, and the Republican Traitors

2008-12-11T13:52:00.000-08:00

I came across this article (see below) on the Web today. I'm glad to see average US citizens calling for action. These Southern Republican hypocrites want to let Detrot die, all the while lining their pockets with cash from Toyota, Honda, and Nissan. These crafty morons rail against government bailouts, failing to report that their own states have given billions in tax rebates and concessions to foreign automakers. They use key words like "free market," but these phrases consist of Orwellian rhetoric.

What they want to do is bust unions, cut benefits, and line the pockets of executives. Destroying the American auto industry is a means to an end. That end is the subjugation of all workers to the corporate state. And you know what corporate statism is? Fascism: the first things Hitler and Mussolini did were to bust unions and patronize the corporations.

The rich prey off the poor and the middle class, all the while plunging the average worker and consumer into a race to the bottom. It's time to stop the Wal-Martization of America. It's time to take our Republic back.

Throw the oligarchs and their publicly paid cronies in prison, like Putin did in Russia, then let's make them squeal and cough up their stolen money.

Local Man Calls For Boycott of Alabama

Huntington Woods (WWJ) -- Joe Babiasz says he's sick of the 'circus of the Senate hearings'--and he wants 49 states and the District of Columbia to boycott the state of Alabama. Why? The Huntington Woods man says he's tired of the criticism of the Big 3 by Alabama Republican Senator Richard Shelby.

So, he's set up a website to further his cause: www.boycottalabamanow.com
Babiasz, who retired from General Motors after 34 years, told WWJ his boycott is for "any travel into the state, or the purchase of anything that's produced within the state of Alabama."

"It is to show Senator Shelby what it's like when hard-working, innocent people are not helped in the system by the government. Senator Shelby has been the most vocal critic of the Big 3," he said.

Babiasz said he's standing behind the industry that gave him a career. "We build excellent products. We are as good or better than any Japanese or European product on a price-point basis. I'm very proud of that."

Response to Michael Moore’s Bulletin on Detroit's Failing Auto Industry

2008-12-03T11:56:00.000-08:00

On the other hand, I drive a 92 Chevy G10 (full-sized) van and it never breaks down nor needs anything other than regular maintanance. At the time I bought the van, it was one of the few that could handle a power wheelchair and an electric lift.

It's true that the van doesn't get more than 18 mpg with its small block V8, but hey, it's a truck. Am I supposed to haul my disability stuff around in a glorified vegetable cart?

My family used to own Nissans (aka, Datsuns) and they were finicky and expensive to repair. Since the late 80s, my parents have owned Saturns and Chevys, with nary a problem. My parents' two Malibu Maxes get 33 mpg, look great, and don't break down at all.

A friend of mine who works in construction owns a Ford F150--de rigeur equipment for working, middle-class folks in his field. Why should he buy and equally gas-guzzling Nissan Titan or Armada for more money? If anyone has been paying attention, they'd notice the Japanese and Koreans have been falling all over themselves for the past decades to turn out monster SUVs, and they've been selling them to Americans dumb enough to not pay attention to what the Japanese and Koreans actually buy in their own countries.

Besides, aren't the European and Japanese car makers also requesting help from their governments? Don't many of them already receive subsidies? And hasn't Japan been in a recession since the 90s?

This isn't to say that I disagree with the notion of buying the Big 3 and replacing their management. And as a train/mass transit user, I love the idea of putting Detroit to work rebuilding the infrastructure they helped destroy. What I am saying is that not all the blame can be placed on Detroit's "crappy cars." That seems to be part of the public mythology these days, but we can't bet our future on myth-based decision-making. George W. Bush tried that, and look where it got us.

Maybe you shouldn't have bought a Chrysler, Mike, and I say that with all due respect. I'll keep putting gas in my 92 Chevy for years to come.

Episodes of a Lost Life

2008-11-25T03:05:00.000-08:00

So what really happened last July?

On the last Sunday of July, I suffered an acute case of diverticulitis, and had to rush to the ER at Sharp Hospital. The ER wasn't as crowded as I expected; my parents and I only had to wait about two hours. Then I was shown one of the small, white and sterile rooms, where i finally got into a bed (I was feeling very tired and sleepy). After running some blood tests, the staff scheduled me for a CT scan. The scan itself wasn't bad, but having to drink a quart of "contrast" fluid about did me in. Why is it hospitals do their best to make you feel worse when you're already feeling terrible?

After the scan, my gurney was wheeled into the main ER ward, where only a privacy curtain separated me from the rest of the patients. After another period of waiting and tests, a nurse told me "the surgeon will operate on you in an hour."

"What?" I asked the pretty blonde nurse. I hadn't realized I was that sick, really. I've had diverticulosis for many years, and never had an infection or admission to a hospital for it before.

"You're a very sick man," one of the ER doctors told me.

"What kind of surgery?"

"A colostomy."

I wasn't happy, but after a shot or two of dilaudid, I ceased to care very much. Then a urologist appeared from behind the white curtain and performed the obligatory catheterization. Modern medicine: If you don't have a hole where they need one, they drill it for you. Medicine is the only profession where you get charged for your own pain and suffering.

Outside the waiting area for the operating room, I finally met the surgeon, Dr. Jackson. He seemed rather cool and abrupt. I asked him to make the colostomy reversible, but he didn't believe that would be possible.

"If you have contractions, we can't get you into the right position for a reversal," he stated. Meanwhile, a young RT hung out with me, and we made bawdy jokes about the cute young nurses passing by. A few raised eyebrows; others just smiled knowingly.

I awoke the next day missing my sigmoide colon and adorned with an open abdominal wound and a colostomy. I say "awoke," but that is using the term generously. Basically, I spent the next week in a sort of waking dream. Faces appeared and hovered over me in a kind of fog. My fancy new bed in the ICU could play nature sounds: birds twittering and water gushing over falls. The time was really rather blissful.

Overall, I spent five weeks in the hospital, and came home in September. Since then, I have been slowly recovering. I am still taking oxycodone for pain, but one benefit is I am on "doctor's orders" to eat anything and everything I want, especially food with protein.

American Voices: It’s Cool to Be Cool Again

2008-11-06T05:24:00.000-08:00

Sixty-six million Americans have raised their voices and made themselves heard for a brighter, more optimistic future. Dick Cheney's "Taxi to the Dark Side" has lost a wheel and run into a deep ditch.

Chill out, conservatives (and I use the term lightly--spending $10 billion a month on a foreign war is something a true conservative like Pat Buchanan can't even stomach); you've had 28 years to drag the nation to ruin. Now it's the people's turn to set the ship aright.

I’m Becoming a Borg

2008-10-07T06:14:00.000-07:00

I think I'm becoming a Borg. Remember the Borg from STNG? Part humanoid, part machine. Since the surgery in late July, I've aquired a new "appliance," just the smart and stylish accessory to my 26-year-old life with a ventilator.
I think I'm becoming a Borg. How many more holes can the surgeons drill in me? How many more tubes and bags and "appliances"?

I think I'm becoming a Borg. Captain Picard, where are my superhuman powers? I too want to roam the universe and zap other beings with my phaser arm.

I think I'm becoming a Borg. Repeat after me: "Resistance is futile."

The Only Thing I Hate Worse than a Dilemma is a Conundrum

2008-04-11T21:10:00.000-07:00

Let's see... I spent the week working on 4 different projects. Joe was out sick again and Clarence had to fill in for him. My roommate still owes me $640. My TV is still broken and the repairman hasn't figured out what's wrong with it yet.

I suppose "life" remains better than the alternative, but I can't figure out exactly why.

Et tu, Pompeii?

2008-04-04T21:06:00.000-07:00

I went to the Pompeii exhibit ("A Day in Pompeii") at the SDNHM yesterday. It was small, but fascinating. I couldn’t help but let my eyes linger over the many small, intricate artifacts. Then the thought occured to me:

In 2000 years, museums will be displaying items dug up for "A Day in San Diego." Sadly, the junk that they put on display (iPods, computers, HDTVs) will all lead the scientists to conclude that our civilization was a backwater colony of China.

Lamest Movie Catch Phrase--EVER

2008-03-24T23:02:00.000-07:00

I was just looking at an ad for the new movie, Shutter. The catch phrase at the bottom of the ad said: "The most terrifying images are the ones that are real."

Gee, no kidding? Man, I thought that pointilliste watercolor of a bear eating a man was SO much more frightening than a videotape of the same thing!

Has our society truly hit the rock bottom of banality? Even more ironic and stupid, of course, is the fact that Shutter is a *movie* and nothing depicted in it is real...

*sigh*

And while that crap clogs the collective cloaca of movie theaters, why can’t the Mira Mesa theater host In Bruges? Looks like I have to go to Hillcrest to see it.

New LOST theories

2008-02-14T03:16:00.000-08:00

So, I was watching LOST tonight, and suddenly had an epiphany. Here’s some of what I think is going on.

1. There are three groups involved in the battle for control of the island. Group 1: the "Hostiles, aka "Others." These are the aboriginal people, probably descended from the crew of the Black Rock, who remained on the island after the shipwreck. Some of those characters, like Richard, probably ARE members of the Black Rock crew, as is/was Jacob the Invisible.

2. Group 2: The DHARMA Initiative. We now know that the Hanso family, who funded the initiative, are descended from the Hanso who wrote the Black Rock’s log that was auctioned off to Charles Widmore. Alvar Hanso probably knew about the island, and deliberately placed the DHARMA group there to research its phenomena.

3. Charles Widmore. Widmore owns Widmore Pharmaceuticals, and he wants the power of the island for his own profit.

Now, the Losties are Group 4. It seems, from the flash forwards, that many of them stayed behind, and only 6 left for the mainland. My guess: the final episode of LOST will conclude with the Oceanic 6 returning to the island and reuniting with the rest of the castaways.

So anyway, here’s my BIG epiphany, which suddenly dawned on me tonight while watching Jin’s flashback and Sun’s flash forward. EVERYONE ON THE ISLAND is "unstuck" in time. Some, like Desmond, have become aware of it. Others are experiencing the same phenomenon, but are not (yet) self-aware. I’ve always wondered why the writers chose to tell the story via flashbacks (and no flash forwards). Flashbacks are normally static, and don’t propel a story forward. They just backfill. And yet, LOST does progress, because it’s essentially a mystery, and the revelations drive the mystery.

Time passes "differently" on the island. The island is out of synch with the local universe. The passengers on 815 are now experiencing, in each episode, what Star Trek once called Amok Time.

More later.

2008 Republican Convention Schedule

2008-02-07T16:00:00.000-08:00

6:00 pm Mike Huckabee Salutes Confederate Flag
6:15 pm Group Hug and Cross Burning
6:20 pm Ann Coulter Bares Adam's Apple
7:00 pm OPENING REMARKS: "HONESTY IN GOVERNMENT" - Randy "Duke" Cunningham
7:25 pm Log Cabin Republicans Induct Sen. Larry Craig into Stall of Fame
7:45 pm CEREMONIAL LIGHTING OF COAL FIRED POWER PLANT
7:55 pm Rush Limbaugh Lecture: "Anal Poisoning and John McCain"
8:00 pm John McCain leads convention in rousing chorus of "Bomb, Bomb, Bomb, Bomb Bomb Iran."
8:10 pm "Why All Scientists Are Wrong," Talk Given Posthumously from Hell by Jerry Fallwell and Grand Inquisitor
8:15 pm Rick Santorum Addresses Convention: "The Secret Man on Dog Agenda."
8:35 pm George W. Bush re-ups for the National Guard
8:40 pm Ronald Reagan's corpse re-animated, still can't remember Iran-Contra
9.00 pm MEMORIAL SERVICE FOR BILL OF RIGHTS
10:00 pm WARRENTLESS WIRETAPPING ETIQUETTE – Alberto Gonzales
11:00 pm BILL O'REILLY SALUTES HOMELESS VETS
11:05 pm COLLECTION FOR CHILDREN WITHOUT HEALTH INSURANCE
11:15 pm Keynote Speech: "Why We Fight," by Fred Thompson
11:30 pm National Proclamation by the President: "Nucular Is Now an Official Word"
11:45 pm Glenn Beck Kicks Keith Olbermann onto Subway Tracks
11:50 pm "Abstinence Only Education, Do As I Say, Not As I Do," by David Vitter
12:15 am TRUTH IN BROADCASTING AWARD - Presented to Rush Limbaugh by Animatronic Joseph Goebbels
12:20 am Ceremonial Assassination of Foreign President by Pat "Ninja" Robertson
12:25 am Ann Coulter French Kisses Lynne Cheney in Ladies Room
12:30 am SATELLITE ADDRESS – Dick Cheney, live from Secret Bunker
12:45 am NOMINATION OF JOHN MCCAIN – Swiftboat Veterans
1:00 am Laura Bush Hands Out Free Xanax
1:05 am "Reagan Republicans" Mass Mooning of John McCain
1:30 am Reagan Reanimated Corpse Proposes a Toast: "To the Youth of America"
1:40 am Closing Remarks: "Why Strom Thurmond Was Better than Harry Truman," by Tom "Hammer" Delay
1:50 am George W. Bush Celebrates End of Term in Cloud of Suspicious White Powder

Clobberfield

2008-01-23T17:13:00.000-08:00

A few thoughts on the movie, Cloverfield, which I took in at the local Regal Cinema Sunday night.

As is well known by now, the film gives a new take on the classic "monster rampages through Tokyo" motif by changing the setting to New York City and using the device of the first-person Handycam point of view.

The discerning viewer could easily sense the hand of LOST producer JJ Abrams in the characterization, theme, and plot twists. For example, Rob, the protagonist, fit the role of angst-ridden overachiever, much as Jack does in LOST. Likewise, Hud (who operates the camera throughout most of the film) was quite similar to LOST's rotund clown, Hurley.

Another aspect borrowed from LOST was the thematic relationship of the characters to the Unknown--unkown with a capital U. Throughout most of the film, the characters are running around, quite literally "lost," and not knowing who to turn to, where to seek help, or exactly what the thing is that's confronting them.

Much has been made of the similarities to 9/11. This is true, and when you think about it, the device makes sense. What was the most scary aspect of 9/11 (besides the president's rendition of "My Pet Goat" while the country was under attack)? The most frightening thing was fear of the unknown--those first crazy hours when we didn't know what had hit those buildings in New York and Washington, or why. Were more attacks imminent? Who among us did not cast a fearful and watchful eye at the sky that day?

Fleeting glimpses of the monster and buildings falling over seemingly without a force behind them, as well as the bugs skittering in the dark, evoked terror and awe much more effectively than, say, Peter Jackson's inartful clobbering of the viewer with monster after monster in King Kong.

Oddly, the critics summarized the film along the lines of "Godzilla for the Youtube generation." Yet, at the end of the movie, the film was booed by a sizeable number of teenage boys, who apparently couldn't grasp its deeper archetype. Fans of classic horror movies like me appreciated the film's cunning references, which were mentioned during the closing credits, including Them and The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms.

I guess the kiddies got flustered because there was no clear resolution to the film, although resolution came suddenly and agonizingly to its four principal characters. That's another idea related to LOST: in art, as in life, resolution is often shrouded in a fog of ambiguity.

New Bush Coins

2008-01-20T20:04:00.001-08:00

Thanks to Keith Olbermann for bringing this to broader public attention:

Trois choses dont je me rappelle (auprès de toi)

2007-10-20T02:06:00.000-07:00

Celle qui sent des roses
quand je la
serre dans mes bras

Les boucles de ses cheveux
couleur de bronze qui touchent doucement ses
épaules au cours de mes caresses ardentes

Le sourire Stellaire qui
fait des étincelles inoubliables dans
le ciel et mon coeur

Small Disasters, Part II

2007-10-14T20:00:00.000-07:00

The train ride to Seattle was full of bounces and jolts. The view of passing scenery outside my room's window varied from small towns to farmland to forested mountains. Because the ride took over thirty hours, we slept in our quarters not long after dark, which occured somewhere around Oakland.

The thing about the American trains is they are distinctly low-tech. Our sleeper car was constructed by the Canadian Bombardier corporation in the 70s. There's no wifi, and cell phones function sporadically. TV or music in your room? Forget about it... Unless you bring your own. There was something called a Dig-E-Player available for rent, but I didn't bother with it. The true entertainment was constantly rolling by outside my window.

There are some nice touches on the train. The sleeper car connects to a dining car, a view car, a lounge car, and a parlour car. Harold really enjoyed the view car. I was glad I got the "handicapped discount" on my tickets, because I couldn't access any of those cars. To get out of the sleeper car, you have to climb a stairwell and cross a tube into the next car. Harold told me that the floor of that tube goes up, down and sideways like a funhouse. Definitely not wheelchair-friendly.

Nevertheless, I found the Amtrak staff to be friendly and helpful. Olga, our attendant, furnished me with food, made the beds, and brought the morning paper each day. The food varied from omelettes for breakfast, to hamburgers for lunch and salmon for dinner. Overall, I'd rate the cuisine onboard as far superior to airline food, because it's cooked fresh in the train's kitchen. It's about on a par with the offerings at a chain restaurant like Denny's.

In the afternoons, around 3:00pm, the staff holds a wine tasting event that is free for all sleeper car passengers. Olga was very concientious in bringing me the wine, cheese and crackers.

We passed through some big cities, probably the largest being Portland, Oregon. I thought the cityscape was fascinating, with its industrial demeanor. Harold found it ugly. I had a hard time convincing him to take pictures of the downtown area.

We arrived at Seattle around 10:30 Saturday night. The bus to Vancouver was scheduled to depart at 11:00. When Harold and I got to the bus, people were already boarding. We met the bus driver and he took a quizzical look at my chair. "Uh, we don't have a lift, eh?"

"What?" I asked. Some dialog with the driver ensued, in which we discovered Amtrak somehow missed the fact my ticket was marked for disabled access. After some conversations with the Amtrak station manager at Seattle, we agreed to stay overnight and travel by train the next day.

So, there we were at midnight, the only folks in Seattle's King St. Station, except for the manager and some homeless guy picking through trash. The manager agreed to put us up at the local Holiday Inn Express, but there was another problem. No disabled-transit buses were available that late at night. In desperation, the Amtrak manager convinced the on-call supervisor of the local paratransit agency to transport us to the hotel, at 2:00am.

By the time we rolled into the Holiday Inn, it was almost pointless to try to sleep. We scheduled bus pickup at 5:30am and bagged our three hours of z's. It makes me yawn just thinking about it.

The good thing, though, was we got to travel by train to Vancouver at 7:30 in the morning. The train follows the coast, and the conductor--well versed in local lore of the route--filled us in on the scenery's attributes. One of the main facts he noted on the trip through rural Washington was the dilapidated family farms along the tracks. Corporate farming has ruined the family farms, which are falling into elegant ruin as the countryside reclaims its own territort. I somehow knew how the Romans must have felt, traveling along their dilapidated highways in the Fourth Century, gazing at deserted villas and fallen temples.

We finally arrived at Vancouver's Amtrak/Bus station around 10:30 that morning. The weather reminded me of San Diego in late November or December: cool (low 60s), with bright sunlight glinting off the windows and sidewalks. One feature of Vancouver I'll always remember with fondness is that bright, sunny, fresh feel to the air. San Diego is a city a lot like Vancouver in many ways, but where we have dust and smog, they have bright blue skies and clean breezes. Yes--it does rain (about 4.5 feet a year), but so what? I'd love more rain at home.

Vancouver is quite unique in that about 25% of the taxis are accessible. "Handicapable" as Stellar might call them. So, we called a taxi from my cell phone, and it arrived about a half-hour later. Most of the taxi drivers in Vancouver are Indian or Middle Eastern. It's really cool to be picked up by one of the Sikh drivers, who look like they came straight out of the era of the Raj.

Our hotel was conveniently located in central Vancouver. It was close to downtown, if not quite in downtown. Kind of like renting a room in Hillcrest or Mission Valley, if you visit San Diego.

More on the week in Vancouver, next installment.

-- David

Life Is a Series of Small Disasters--Some Beneficial

2007-10-14T15:00:00.000-07:00

Life is a Series of Small Disasters--Some Beneficial

"Life is a series of small disasters, some beneficial." That's a saying I came up with, but you can quote me if you'd like....

My recent train trip to Vancouver serves as an example. Whenever you travel, there is stress. No matter how much you plan (and there's rarely any such thing as over-planning), stuff goes wrong. If you can't handle the stress of travel, you may not be able to survive the speed bumps in life's road.

For example, when Harold and I went to get on the bus at the Santa Fe depot in San Diego, the lift didn't work. Here I was, bouncing up and down the side of a bus on a rickety platform, gazing through the door at the saucer-wide eyes of a huge black man sitting in the seat across from me. "It's going to be a long fall and a short trip" I told him.

Finally, we got on the bus and rode to LA's Union Station. The bus driver dropped us off at a sidewalk across the street from the station, in downtown Los Angeles, where Harold and I hardly ever go. Then we had to scrabble with our luggage in tow, find an elevator, figure out which floor the train depot resided on, and find our train.

The interesting thing about Union Station is that unlike an airport, there is no clear direction about where to go or what to do to catch your train. At airports, you know if you're on a Southwest flight to take the hallway to the Southwest terminal, or if Delta, to head to Delta's terminal. At the train station, it's ALL Amtrak! There is no "there" there--just people milling around, mostly rushing off to some unknown destination, or dazedly staring into space.

We asked for help at the Information Booth, but other than telling us to "head down the hallway," the data-giver wasn't very helpful. As Harold wandered aimlessly trying to locate the ramp to our train, I found two Amtrak ticket agents seated at card tables near the hallway. One of them was very friendly and responded to my questions with clear answers. Yay! We were almost on our way. If I had panicked, or shrunken confusedly into my shell, we might never have caught Train 14 to Seattle.

Finally, when boarding is announced, the crowd sprints in unison toward the ramp for the train, which is down an immense hallway. We took Ramp 10, which had an A and a B side. Which were we? A or B? Well, I figured the best way to find out was to just choose an arbitrary side and start climbing.

At the top, there were two trains next to tracks. No sign points to "Train 14." So I just went up to people in line and polled them. "Excuse me ma'am, is this Train 14?" A gray-haired lady with pearl glasses looked quizzically down at her own tickets, then glanced at me, then back to the train and smiled shyly. "Why, yes I hope so," she said.

A few more people down the line, and I figured out we were indeed on the right track (literally), and found a conductor who pointed us "way down there" to a sleeper car. The first sleeper car I rolled up to had no ramp. I asked the attendant, who cheerfully told me "it's the next one."

Now, the thing about Amtrak trains is, they are HUGE. You literally cannot see one end of the train from the other. So I just went in the direction the attendant pointed to, till I saw a heavy-set Hispanic woman standing beside a ramp and an open hatch. "Is this the handicapped-accessible sleeper car?" I pleaded?

"Yes it is," smiled the attendant. "My name is Olga, and I'm your attendant. Just go on in and head to the right." With a shove from Harold, I got the chair propelled up the rather steep metal ramp and up into the train.

"Whew!" We made it at last, I thought to myself, as Harold and I settled into our room, which incidentally was smaller than most walk-in closets in a modern suburban McMansion.

-- More on the trip later

David

Soar: for Stellar

2007-09-27T05:00:00.000-07:00

-- Soar --

You are
not loveless.
Some say love
doesn't come

In the
form we seek,
But love
of someone

Nearby
cradles us
When we
least notice.

Love is
eternal though
We are
finite beings

That touch
of eternal grace
Makes us
like angels....

If you
have wings to
Fly, soar
skyward on

Tradewinds
raised higher
By this
beating heart.

Greetings from Vancouver!

2007-09-22T19:49:00.000-07:00

Greetings from Vancouver!

Well, my week in British Columbia is almost complete. I will be boarding the bus for Seattle on Saturday. What a great time; I love it up here.

Today Harold and I took the BC Ferry to Vancouver Island. Quite the adventure!! We didn't have a lot of time, but we walked around beautiful Victoria and took Afternoon Tea in the stately Empress Hotel, appropriately named in honour of Queen Victoria, who once sojourned there. Other famous people who stayed there are FDR, John Wayne (quite often), and Queen Elizabeth and Prince Phillip. I'd love to spend a few days exploring this Victorian gem—maybe after my refugee status is approved, lol.

After 51 years, I finally found a city that suits me to a tee—the weather is sunny but not hot, or it's cool and cloudy with rain, the people are young, artistic and educated, there is free universal healthcare and they all HATE Bush! :-p

Love to all my friends--especially Monica and <3 Stellar

PS: I started a new Vancouver album on MySpace and will soon be posting more pics to it.

Traveling North in Autumn

2007-09-11T02:02:00.000-07:00

Traveling North in Autumn

Wherever I go
They will not follow
Wherever I stay
They shall not be

Whatever I seek
They cannot see
Whatever I want
They cannot buy

I look out the window
And see a field of glass
A star with no light
A forest with no trees

Wherever I go
They follow me
Wherever I stay
They abide in me

Raise your hand in the night
And count the stars on your fingers
Touch the shimmering lights
Blow out the candles

I look out your window
And see a face of glass
A sun with no warmth
A sea without waves

Wherever I go
They follow me
Wherever I stay
They dwell beside me

To Stellar--till We Meet Again

2007-09-11T01:54:00.000-07:00

A la fée des lumières

On aime L'Etoile qui brille
comme l'éclair parmiles constellations de l'esprit.
Mais l'étoile brille pour lui?

To the Faery of Lights

He loves the star that shines
Like lightning
Among the constellations of the spirit
But does the Star shine for him?

One somber knight, wandering alone
The Path of Aimless Thoughts
The Faery of Lights came to him
Glowing stellar, she touched him with her wings

And danced around his body
Like a hummingbird seeking nectar
With each soft stroke
An electric chill sang through his body

Exalted
"Do not fear," she told him.
"I will guide thee--rest me in your palm
And walk free."

Faery and Knight found a path past midnight
Forests where dandelion chimeras devoured them
With ravenous yellow eyes
When they came to a crossroads, she leapt from his hand

And flittered about his face
Closing fay lips to his
"Go there, fair knight," she pointed
"First star to the right"

Where the moon glowed upon a lily trail
"Come back to me," she whispered
And fled the knight that night
Till suns rose over village roofs

Now under every milky moonlit canopy
He returns to the forest seeking that gloaming grove
Where the Faery of Lights awaits her love
With only a star to guide him.

Soft Genocide

2007-09-02T21:31:00.000-07:00

I found a worthwhile article in the newspaper a few days ago (yes, I do still read the papers!), stating that the obesity epidemic is worsening in the US, and some states are approaching 33% obesity rates. Mississipi, the fatest state in the nation, will breech the 50% mark within the next decade.

Although all races and ethnic groups are gaining girth, it's the dirt-poor and minority areas that are gaining the most, the fastest. Why is that? Economic factors and political ones.

Lousy or non-existent health care
Poor diets, rich in fat and sodium. Supermarkets flee the ghettos and small towns, and the locals are forced to feed athe McDonald's KFC trough.
Lack of exercise. Like my round nurse Clarence, they drive if they have to walk 10 feet. Then when they do exit their cars they climb into one of those fat-people scooters.

So, what's the uptake? Kill off the troglodytes. When they're too sick to shop at Wal-Mart or even work there, the country has no more use for them.

If Today Was Tomorrow....

2007-08-26T19:46:00.000-07:00

Today should have been a great day, but it fell into the porcelain fixture. Harold's been away with my van all day (he took it last night) and hasn't brought it back yet. Now, it's 7:40 and the day is shot.

The temperature got up to 90 degrees at Miramar, and there were thunderstorms and flash floods as close as Escondido, but nothing reached Mira Mesa. I wish it had, a good storm would wake up the neighborhood and cleanse the sidewalks.

Would I remember today? Probably not, which is why I'm writing it down anyway. Sometimes you have to set the crappy days down on paper too.

On the good side, my trip planning is proceeding, and I should finalize affairs tomorrow with the travel agent, Chris, of Flying Wheels Travel. Let's keep our fingers crossed!
David

INLAND EMPIRE

2007-08-24T13:51:00.001-07:00

Welcome to the Bunny World.

Laura and the Bunnymen

2007-08-24T13:43:00.000-07:00

Laura and the Bunnymen

Last weekend I rushed to my local Best Buy and purchased David Lynch's new masterpiece, "Inland Empire." The film comes on a 2-DVD set. The first DVD holds the film, and the second is packed with extra footage and some rambling narratives by Lynch.

I can't praise this film enough. A lot of viewers, minds dulled by Hollywood pablum, try to figure out what the film is "about." But it is about many things: can the universe be about something? I prefer the Italian title of the movie: "Empire of the Mind." For the inner universe converges upon the outer one, and eventually you have to ask yourself, "If today was tomorrow, would I remember it?"

Lynch combines Dada and Surrealism into a seamless garment of videotape. He is Dali; he is Escher; he is Magritte.

"Ceci n'est pas une pipe." This is not a pipe--"The Treason of Images."

Murderers, Thieves, Traitors

2007-08-02T15:32:00.000-07:00

So, I went to Walmart at 10:00 PM last night to buy some emergency CD labels for my printer. This was the first time I ever set foot in the store, and I swore after I was finished, I'd never go back. The only reason I went there was because Fry's and Best Buy were closed, and I needed CD labels for a client's print job.

I swear, I have personally given witness to the Decline and Fall of the American Empire. The ghost of Edward Gibbon is down in Hades co-writing the book with Beetlejuice and the tormented soul of Prescott Bush.

There are two places in this world you do not want to go to find hot chicks: 1) Denny's and 2) Walmart. I saw more toothless hags than Fantasia's Night on Bald Mountain, and they all sported Walmart name tags on their black polo shirts. The store is Tweaker Heaven, or where old homeless folks go to die. Leaving the store as fast as I could, I drove home and hit the shower.

"This must be how prostitutes feel," I thought. You sell your soul in exchange for Chinese-made crap. "It's cheap, but it ain't free," Steely Dan once sang.

All of which brought to mind the terrible bridge collapse in Minneapolis yesterday. CNN announced that estimates to repair our broken infrastructure run about $1.3 trillion. But, we have "no money" do repair our bridges, roads, railroads, and airports. Why? Hmm... Maybe because we've squandered a trillion dollars in Iraq?

We've spent all this money in Iraq and have jack to show for it. Their infrastructure is even uglier than ours. "Corruption is the second insurgency," a recent government report stated.
Here's a new and unique idea. By last count, after all the mass murders and bombings, there are about 23 million inhabitants of Iraq. Not counting vermin, of course. So, why not just pull our troops out and give every Iraqi a million bucks? Wouldn't that be the Republican way? "Free market economics: Give 'em the money and let them spend it however they want." Seems like letting them fix their own damn country would be a lot less expensive than letting Haliburton pave it over and rape the earth for oil.

Our relationship with Iraq is like an abusive marriage. As my friend Stefanie recently told me, "We won't leave until they stop trying to push us out." Big Daddy Bush slaps them around and kills 600,000 civilians, and they go all passive-agressive on our ass by planting IEDs under Humvees.

Reminds me of Jack Nicholson in "The Shining." "Here's Jonny!" "Here's your worst fucking nightmare!" A decrepit empire dragging the rest of the world down its own black hole.

Sic semper imperatoris!

A Boy's (Robot) Life

2007-07-09T20:08:00.000-07:00

A Boy's (Robot) Life

Saturday night I went to see Transformers. The movie was better than I expected, and though a tad too long, kept me entertained till the end.
The movie had all the elements any teenage or pre-teen boy would love:

A hot chick
nerd teen hero who gets the hot chick
cars, trucks, jet fighters
stuff blowing up randomly and with great noise
ROBOTS!!!

Yeah, sure it's another summer schlockbuster, but has an innate coolness factor. Did I mention, it has ROBOTS!!!

llorando (mulholland drive)

2007-07-05T13:52:00.001-07:00

Ceci n'est pas une pipe. -- Magritte

Eraserhead - Eraserhead Redux

2007-07-05T13:37:00.001-07:00

Absurda profunda...

KEITH OLBERMANN on Libby/Bush

2007-07-05T13:33:00.001-07:00

Keith says it all....
Bush and Cheney, OUT!!

Erase Your Head

2007-06-29T20:01:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, my much-coveted DVD of Eraserhead 2000 arrived via UPS. Last night I sat in front of my computer and enjoyed it. Kind of like reliving the 70s, but better. For one thing, I didn't need to watch it at midnight at the pot-choked Strand Theater in OB.

The film stands the test of time. Of course it's crude effects-wise, although that worm baby crying in the night still manages to send chills up and down the spine. The movie is an effective nightmare--comical, disturbing, vivid like a fever dream.

The "extras" on the DVD consisted of a rambling narrative by David Lynch. It was black and white, with a big, old-fashioned microphone the only prop at first. Then he started talking into a speaker phone with the disembodied voice of a woman who worked on the film. It seemed like Lynch did anything to avoid revealing the secrets of the movie. The one thing he did say was that no critic has ever come up with an interpretation that matched his own. Oh--and the Girl in the Radiator was not in the original script.

"In Heaven, everything is fine," sings the Girl in the Radiator.

Is it?

Spam Musubi

2007-06-20T21:01:00.000-07:00

Sunday was Father's Day, and my parents and I accompanied the Cazins to Callahan's in Mira Mesa. Callahan's is our place to go on Father's or Mother's Day, because it's fun and less crowded than Mimi's.

I gave my dad a PS2 game--God of War--which I'm not sure he'll keep. It's a bit too mature to play with Nathon and Matthew. For dinner, I had my favorite, Bangers and Mash. The Cazins talked about their recent vacation in France, which was interesting in that we could compare notes. They went to Paris and the Bordeaux region, whereas I've always stuck to the north, with my friends the Charpentiers in Haute Marne.

Later that night, Harold and I made our usual midnight run to Ralphs. Talk about a ghetto for lonely bachelors... It looked like a scene from Dawn of the Dead, with a few dishevelled zombies shuffling along behind shopping carts, their eyes glazed over and drops of slobber seeping from their gaping mouths.... But we have met the zombies, and they are US!

This week, work has been light, and I'm enjoying the break while I can. I'm positive it'll pick up soon. Minda brought me a box of Spam Musubi tonight. I wanted to try it ever since Flying Hawaiian recommended it. It's from L&L in town. Funny how Hawaiians and Native Alaskans are the two biggest (and I mean literally) consumers of Spam. I personally haven't touched the stuff since Tia used to make me fried Spam sandwiches.

Meanwhile, I'm trying to catch up on my WoW playing and my writing. And my girls, Oceana and Jessi. Donna remains my buddy in chat and RL, fortunately. She's one smart cookie, and patient too!

Impeach Bush!

2007-06-18T15:08:00.000-07:00

Hey hey, ho ho! Bush and Cheney got to go!!

What more can we say? Condi Rice can hit the bricks, too. If she can climb out from under Bush's desk long enough. These guys have led the country to the brink of total disaster.

Once I warned that Bush would break our army in Iraq, like Valens did the Roman army at Adrianople. It seems I was close to the truth.

Speaking of the truth, we have Olbermann, Colbert, and Stewart to keep "telling it like it is," as the hipsters used to proclaim in the 60s.

Dull, Bloated, and Feculent

2007-06-03T16:46:00.000-07:00

Last night I rolled Clarence out the door and made a beeline for the movie theater, where we watched Pirates of the Caribbean III on the big screen while munching mushy, fat-dripping nachos and drinking what Keith Olbermann might call "the worst coffee in the worlllllllldddd!!"
The movie gave me a chance to spend the night out, which was great. I've been cooped up all week working long and lonely hours on an editing project. Unfortunately, the movie itself was bloated, dull, and feculent. I use "feculent" here because at one point, in the pirate's den in Singapore, one of the pirates utters the word. At the time, I though, "Oh, cool, a movie with a vocabulary," but little did I realize that would be one of the two highlights of the film, the second being Keith Richards's cameo appearance.

Meanwhile, this past week, I got my new Gateway laptop computer, which is a very sweet machine. Now I can choose where I want to work; in my room on my desktop, or in the livingroom on my laptop. The advantage to the desktop is that it's faster, with a larger screen, and the advantage to the laptop is that it's in the livingroom, where I can watch my big HDTV while working.

The rest of this day, I'll finish working, and tonight I'll go shopping with Harold. My roommate finally paid me some of his back rent, $420 (which, if you knew him, you'd know was a wholly appropriate, if inadequate, amount.

Friday Night in Mira Mesa

2007-05-05T01:41:00.000-07:00

After a day of slaving away over a hot FrameMaker file, I got the call from my parents and they came over. We enjoyed a pleasant Chinese take-out dinner and watched a movie called "Save the Last Dance 2." I was amazed to learn MTV Studios had actually produced a 1, much less a 2.
The thing had the word "dance" in the title, so my mom wanted to see it. The one strength in the otherwise bland film about a ballerina-cum-hip hop dancer was that the blonde chick who played the protagonist was reasonably hot.

I did enjoy LOST very much last Wednesday. Whenever the story takes a turn for the "dark side," I'm into it. Plus, they restrained their flashbacks to the previous 8 days on the Island. Unless they introduce some new characters, I really feel the writers have dwelt enough on the past lives of the "losties." Time to move the story relentlessly forward, or get off the writing pot!
Harold came over early tonight and is now fast asleep. Which is where I should be, but I must have that newly discovered "night owl" gene and only feel truly awake in the wee hours of the Nox Tenebrosa (Dark Night).

I'm stuck without a van this weekend, as it was hauled off Thursday night to Van Nuys for the Rehab-paid repairs to the back door and lift. I hope to get it returned before the big Mixer next Thursday.

Next Friday, assuming I have the van, I should be taking a class in Adobe Illustrator. It's one of those free adult education classes. Just right for Bonni to pay for, lol.

Maybe I'll go see Spidey 3 tomorrow, if the lines aren't too horrendous.

Saturday Night at the Grindhouse

2007-04-23T00:24:00.000-07:00

Last weekend, Clarence and I went to see "Grindhouse" at the Mira Mesa theater. What a great film! Both the Rodrigues and Tarantino halves were excellent, and I loved the faux previews of movies like "Machete" and "Thanksgiving."

It's really hard to make a tribute to bad movies that doesn't just run over into simple-minded parody, but R and T managed to make the movies entertaining stories in themselves, and not just bad take-offs. Yes, "Grindhouse" was pulpy and violent and lurid, which is just the way a 70s Exploitation Flick should be! There were so many rich moments, great images, and little inside jokes. Every frame had a jewel in it for those who cared to look.

I can't wait for "Grindhouse" on DVD. Definitely a collector's item and a cult favorite for years to come.

The Rest of the Story

2007-03-24T01:41:00.000-07:00

So, that night, I lay awake and got practically NO sleep, thinking about yet another van repair bill. And that very Sunday morning, I had been boasting to my parents that I had the van back in cherry shape for the first time since the accident. And that came at no small expense, either! Around $1500 by my reconing, plus another $250 the Dept. of Rehabilitation sank into it.

"Pride goeth before a fall," as the saying goes. But then Monday morning I had the brilliant idea of getting Rehab back involved. I called Cathleeen, the counselor, and she got back to me about 4:45. The next day I had my van towed to the garage, where, unfortunately, it has sat ever since.

The whole stinking job is just a bad alternator, which should take no more than three hours. But, the state's precious paperwork comes first. The result is that my van is sitting at the garage on Miramar Road, instead of my parking space at Esplanade. And I will be stuck inside my home all weekend.

Argh!! But even with all the frustrations, I'll take slow and free over fast and expensive.

Laissez les bons temps roulez, mon fils!

L'Ecume des jours

2007-03-23T01:00:00.000-07:00

This has been an odd week. First, Harold and I drove to Ralphs in Mira Mesa to shop around 10:30 Sunday night. I've been going shopping with Harold lately, so I can get the food I want, rather than the generic crapola he usually buys on the cheap.

Oh, I should have known things were not about to go well, when we missed my tall red head at the cashier's. Yipes! Not looking good there, after 3 missed weeks. Anyway...

We left the store about midnight, groceries in tow. When we got into the van, we discovered it wouldn't start. The battery was as dead as King Tut's mother. While Harold went back to the store to see if anyone had jumper cables, I used my cell to call Western Towing. They promised me a tow truck within 35 minutes. By the time I hung up on Wester, Harold was back, so he tried starting the van again. And it cranked right over as though nothing had happened. "Yippee!" we thought.

Well, a block from Ralphs, at the light at Mira Mesa Blvd, the van started to stutter, lurch, and die. Somehow we got through the intersection in tact, then slunk our way home down the side streets to my complex. Lights off, rolling on momentum only, we dreaded every corner stop sign. Luckily, Mira Mesa at midnight Sunday is the Dead Zone. They roll up the sidewalks as soon as the Philipinos hit the sack (i.e., early).

Once we got home, we got Brad to jump my van enough to get the lift down and get my cold ass out....

-- More tomorrow.

David

Go Tell the Spartans...

2007-03-13T02:13:00.000-07:00

... Their movie sucks! Actually Harold and I went to the Mira Mesa theater and watched 300 last night, at the late show. The movie didn't really "suck," but I was a little disappointed over it. I admired the graphical ingenuity and the way the "graphic novel" (i.e., comic book) was translated to the Big Screen. And Gerard Butler has been a favorite action star of mine since he played Atila the Hun on a USA Network movie a few years ago.

Overall, though, the characterization was flat. Leonidas, his wife, and everyone else pretty much played on a single emotional level. I, and most people, would like characters we can truly get involved with on MANY levels. We all are, when you consider it, personalities with more facets than a diamond.

300 was a good movie for the 13-year-old in all of us. That's why the Greeks ended up fighting Orcs and Ogres in the middle of the melee, and broke ranks in the heat of battle. I really would have liked to see Peter Jackson or Ridley Scott take on the subject matter.

Still, ancient and medieval history is a rich subject. I'd really like to see one of the above-named directors tackle the story of Alfred the Great, Charlemagne, or Clovis. Justinian and Theordora, with their fabled romance and historic struggle during the Nike riots would also serve as excellent subjects, as would Arminius's revolt of the Cherusci against the Romans.

Snoozefest

2007-03-02T02:17:00.000-08:00

This week has been pretty good, in terms of work. I actually have put in near to fulltime hours, for the first time since last September. The work can't come too soon either, since I still have to pay off my damn dentist and car-repair bills.

My parents have been gone all week to Cabo. I haven't heard from them, but I'm assuming they're having a good time. :)

LOST was okay this week. It was good to get back into Hurley's life, and see Cheech Marin playing his dad. But, the VW Bus segment was unbelievable. After all those years lying on its side as a wreck, the van would have lost its gasoline and other fluids, and the engine would have been frozen up. Not to mention, the tires would have been very, very flat.

I know the island's supposed to work miracles, but the episode lacked credibility. We'll see what next week brings!

I missed ROME this week; it was a rerun. All the networks are afraid to run competition to the Academy Awards, though God only knows why they are afraid of that drab, long-winded snoozefest.

Off to See the Wizard

2007-02-14T03:00:00.000-08:00

Tuesday I went to Sharp Hospital to see Doctor Landers for the usual trach change routine. He's a great guy, and we had fun chatting, as always. Funny, we even seem to agree on politics, e.g., the current mayor of San Diego is an incompetent idiot.

Harold went with with me this time, which made the trip much more enjoyable and laid back than when I go with "Joe and the Volcano," or "Joe the Volcano." On the way back, we stopped by my dentist to pick up a bottle of flouride moutwash.

As my van bumped down Kearny Villa's potholed lanes, I joked to Harold that the citizens of our fair city should "go medieval" on the municipal government's collective ass: tie them one by one to an oxcart and drag them over the crack-filled pavement until they agree to allocate money to road repair.

We need to quit letting Republicans and land developers run our city. Shortsighted government has pretty much wrecked the place, although Harold makes a good point that the weather will always draw folks nigh.

Meanwhile, my ups and downs with K continue, and I'm looking forward to O's visit on Thursday. :)

Tragicomic

2007-02-08T20:46:00.000-08:00

Her actions were funny and sad at the same time, kind of like watching Bozo get struck by a bus. -- Random thought for the day...

The Baptism of Lucius Junius Brutus

2007-01-31T02:31:00.000-08:00

OK, so this past Sunday's Rome was a little too homoerotic for my tastes. Two scenes of buggery, a naked guy wading into a river, Pullo and Vorenus wrestling on the floor.... It was a bit much!

I found it fascinating that the authors chose to have Brutus assume a Christlike figure in his self-baptism in the river. As he emerged in slow motion from the water, rivulets angling down his face and over his beard, I could not help but think of Christian baptism, and the whole John the Baptist in the River Jordan image.

What makes that Christlike image all the more fascinating is the total inversion of Brutus' historical role. Normally he represents the secular prefiguring of Judas, not Christ--"Et tu, Brute" forshadowing the betrayer's kiss.

I'll be interested in seeing how Rome's creators carry this part of the story forward.

The Decision Maker

2007-01-27T16:31:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I saw our Moron-in-Chief on the news saying that "People are condemming my plan without even giving it a chance." Gee, King George, why would they do that? Hmm ... Let me think. How about these reasons:

Your administration's utter and abject failure with previous initiatives in Iraq.
The minor consideration that HUMAN LIVES ARE INVOLVED. Psst--Georgy Boy, running a war ain't like running a failing oil company into the ground. Real men, women, and children will loose their lives due to your faulty planning and execution.
The idiots who can turn Saddam Hussein into a hero are truly unfit to govern the USA, much less Iraq.

Roma Invicta

2007-01-23T02:14:00.000-08:00

Last week, HBO's "Rome" debuted its second season. I recorded it on my DVR and have enjoyed two remarkable episodes now. The character development, acting, and scene settings are all soar above the usual mediocre television fare. Bravo to HBO! It almost leads me to forgive you for cancelling "Carnivale."

I've also nearly finished Season 2 of "Lost." And just in time for the beginning of the new season in a couple of weeks. I noticed in the previews on ABC.com that the upcoming shows will explain Jack's experiences in Thailand to us. I'm curious to find out about the tattoo....

In other news, I started the Tech Comm II class at UCSD. It's a hybrid course, with 3 of the 7 meetings in the classroom--the rest online. I'm not a big fan of online classes, but this is the trend for the future, evidently. I can certainly see its uses in adult education. At any rate, I'll be glad to get the certificate finished. Then I can get back to my novel. Yay!

Until the next time, farewell!
David

The Beatific Smile of the Newly Dead

2007-01-10T16:50:00.000-08:00

Against my better judgment, I watched that jerky cell phone video of Saddamn Hussein's hanging last week. Overall, it was highly distasteful, and showed just how much the United States and Iraqi "government" have bollixed up that country's future.

Saddam, as Don Imus said, "Went out like Jimmy Cagney." He was defiant, yet seemingly calm at the end. And the face, flushed with the last blood of life, looked almost happy as it dangled grotesquely from the end of the hangman's noose. His glassy eyes were half closed, and he almost seemed to be smiling, like a sailor might smile when viewing the shores of his home port after a long sea voyage.

I was discussing the whole thing with Clarence. He brought up how Saddam was a tyrant and mass murderer. "That's true," I replied, "but one man's bloody tyrant is another man's martyr." I reminded Clarence that like Braveheart, Saddamn had refused drugs before his execution. And like that famed Scottish hero, his hands had been bloodied by the deaths of the innocent.

History is not always fiction written by the victors. At least--not the short-term victors. Sometimes centuries will pass before the collective memory of mankind sorts out who were the heroes and who the villains.

Just my thoughts for today.

Bonne Année 2007!

2007-01-05T02:36:00.000-08:00

New Year's Eve came and went without any fuss at my place. The Saturday before, I went to Bill and Vicki's place for a small party they held for Adam, their son. Adam was visiting from Washington, DC, where he works for a nonprofit progressive organization.

The Eve itself, my parents came over and we watched Ice Age II on DVD and ate pizza. They left about 11:00 pm. Nobody's into wild parties anymore! Getting old, I guess, though I certainly don't feel it in any other way.

Sci Fi had the usual Twilight Zone marathon going on Sunday and Monday. Even though I know every single episode by heart, I can't resist the old show's allure. What's more charming and fun-filled than a weekend in Black & White spent in the corpse-pale company of the late Rod Serling?

Finally, it took me all week, but I wended my way through Season I of Lost--Minda's great Xmas gift to me. It really helped me take my mind off stress and enjoy the mystery all over again. This being a slow TV weelk, it was even better to sit back and enjoy Kate, Jack, Hurley, Locke, and the rest. Better they suffer than I.... Isn't that the root of all dramatic fiction? The catharsis... purging of the emotions in a less harmful way.

Christmas Day 2006

2006-12-25T20:35:00.000-08:00

Christmas Day 2006

My family does our Christmas celebration on Christmas Eve. This allows us to just relax and enjoy the holiday stress free. This year was no different; everyone went to my parents' home in Mira Mesa for the festivities.

First, even before I went to my parents', the day got off to a great start when the Chargers pulled out a last-minute win over Seattle. I knew, from there the day could only get better.

Harold was with me, since his wife and kids were doing their own thin at the wife's brother-in-law's house. So, after he dropped his boys back off at home in North Park, he drove the van back to my place; we packed it full of presents and headed to my parents' house.

Dorene, Richard, and the boys were already at the house, as they have been staying there this week. Normally they live in Northern California. Tien and Alicia brought their brood down, and my uncle was in attendance as well.

My mom has grown quite skillful at planning small dinner parties without a lot of fuss n' muss. We dined on sandwiches from Albertson's, with deviled eggs, chips and salsa, and fresh veggies. For desert, we enjoyed Dutch Apple Pie and a "Birthday Cake for Jesus."

I got my parents a Playstation 2 for Christmas. I thought they could loosen up a little, and they'd have fun playing games with my nephews (whom I also bought PS2 games).

The Flemings and Hickmans each bought me Barnes & Noble gift cards, which I intend to put to good use. My parents generously bought me a new HP printer/fax/scanner. I was surprised to receive such an expensive gift from them this year; I do intend to put the scanner to good use, however.

My plan is to scan and archive all the old family photos, some of which date back to the 19th century, and keep them on DVDs. The best ones will be mounted on the Web, in a special home page I would like to construct.

The only person missing this year was Monica, who could not make it due to illness in her new family. I hope to catch up with her later! (

Merry Christmas to All, and to All a Good Night!
David

Twas the Week before Christmas

2006-12-16T19:15:00.000-08:00

'Twas the Week before Christmas

This past week, I got almost all my shopping done. I have been procrastinating on cards, though. Tonight I will work on getting those finished and out the door.

Currently the outside temperature at Miramar is a chilly 55 degrees. Heavy rain is expected to hit the area tonight and tomorrow. That makes me happy!

This morning Harold and I drove over to the Round Table Pizza in University City and I attended my company meeting, along with Bonni, Stef, Jane, and Jim. We all had some fun laughing at a certain product, while Stef gave a demo of it.

My plans for the upcoming week include some more work, plus wrapping presents and decorating the tree. Donna and Tom were supposed to come over last week and help me decorate, but their dog Snappy needed surgery, so they had to postpone the visit. I bought Season 1 of Rocky and Bullwinkle on DVD and can't wait to crack it open with them.

Meanwhile, I watched The Lost Room on Sci Fi last week. It was good! So good, in fact, that Clarence actually STFU during most of it. The only thing about the show I didn't care for was the end. The part where the cop shoots the Occupant seemed contrived, and there really was no scientific or supernatural explanation of the "inciting incident" that set the whole sequence of events in motion in 1961. My original theory was that the room had migrated to our universe from a parallel universe. However, the comments about the Occupant--that he had suddenly disappeared from OUR timeline, seemed to contradict that notion. Still, they left enough open ends that there can easily be a sequel (i.e., the whole "Profit" thread with the bad guy, Ruber.).

Finally, Go Chargers!!

The Allure of Vampires

2006-12-06T17:34:00.000-08:00

Vampires are attractive, erotic, exciting. Else Anne Rice wouldn’t have gotten rich writing about them, before she turned to the Dark Side (Born-Again Christianity). You know they’re draining you of your blood, but you open your neck to the same old seeping wound. The mark they leave brands your soul as theirs until you either fall into shadows or break the spell forever.

Friends can help you throw off the chains of enchantment. Everyone needs a personal Van Helsing to see them through the rough times. Some of us are lucky enough to have more than one guide over the dangerous passes and inside the darkest caverns. The only fear is, in grasping onto your friends, do not drag them into the abyss with you.

Thanksgiving Day

2006-11-24T01:52:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was Thanksgiving, and I went to my parents' home about 4:00 in the afternoon to enjoy a pleasant dinner with them and my 75-year-old uncle Dave.

The dinner was quiet and small. We ate turkey, ham, green beans, cole slaw, biscuits, yams, cranberry sauce, dressing, and biscuits, with pumpkin and apple pie for dessert. I know, it sounds like a lot, but my mom has become quite adept over the years in creating a relatively stress free Thanksgiving meal.

The chatter over dinner was familial and friendly, with the murmuring of the local news in the background. My uncle talked a lot about his dog. I promised my parents a christmas gift list (for myself) and received one sent by Alicia to my parents.

Tomorrow, they are off for a week in Palm Springs, at their time share. Their anniversary is coming up shortly. Number 35! Wow...

Not that many years ago, our Thanksgiving parties were large and swarming with life. My parents would invite Alicia, Dorene, and Brian, and their families filled with small children. My uncle would be there, and maybe Camelia, and the kids would run all over the house.

For quite a few years, my parents and I would drive up to the home of Mémé and Pépé, first when they lived in Hawthorn, and later in 29 Palms. They loved their family, in a genuine and folksy French Canadian way. Many were the dinners we enjoyed there, along with Aunt Janet and her children. I remember the walks around their neighborhood in the splendidly parched desert. It would be cool and dry at this time of year, and after the huge Thanksgiving repast, we'd play Euchre, Spades, or a funny card game called "Screw Your Neighbor." Oh, and there were dice games too.

Even earlier, when I was 16, my parents dropped me off at Gram and Gramp's in Linda Vista, while they took off in their brand-new, racing yellow 71 240Z to get married at Lake Tahoe. I don't remember much of that Thanksgiving, except that it was a break from 10th grade at Kearny. We attended church then--at the proud gray hall of the Linda Vista United Methodist Church.

Times change, yet the event endures...

The thing that occurs to me about Thanksgiving and other annual holidays is that they are kind of like the movie "Groundhog Day" or that new TV show, "Daybreak." The holiday recurs over and over, essentially built of the same ingrediants, yet it subtly changes over time due to the influence of every single event that has occured in our lives over the past year.

The event repeats, yet it is different. The cycle continues and yet it changes, till one day we are no longer around anymore to participate in it, yet the cycles revolve and evolve into the indefinite future...

To all who participated in my life over the past 51 Thanksgivings that I have dwelled on this Earth, I send my deepest and most heartfelt thanks. I cannot name you all, but you'll live forever in my memories.

Day Break

2006-11-19T17:09:00.000-08:00

Last night (Saturday) my friends Donna and Tom came over and we ate some really good Vietnamese carry-out food (spring rolls, barbecued shrimp), drank wine followed by coffee and Carolans, and watched a French movie. The movie was titled "Poupées Rousses" (Russian Dolls) and was the sequel to "L'Auberge Espagnole."

The great thing about many European movies is that they concentrate on believable characters and avoid both the trite and melodramatic. The film's characters carry it, and any good story centers around its protagonist(s). The film had a rich cast of excellent actors who carried off its premise with aplomb.

Meanwhile, I also enjoyed the first episode of Daybreak last Wednesday evening. The story is a lot like Groundhog Day, but is very dark and sinister. I will be quite fascinated to follow it through to the end, which I hope won't be too contrived. That's the only problem with a program with such an artificial premise: it can only end in a few ways, and the payoff will be diminished if the ending is too unbelievable or cliché. A few of the ways Daybreak can end:
· It was all a dream.
· It was all an hallucination.
· The protagonist is dead.
· The protagonist is a character in a movie/TV show/video game and doesn't know it.
· The protagonist is bouncing among alternate, parallel universes.

If the writers can avoid the worn-out clichés mentioned above, then the payoff could be really good. I'm looking forward to following this story through.

Meanwhile, last Thursday night I gave my final presentation for the Presentation Skills class. To complete the project, I reworked my old talk on MT and Localization, to be more of a basic intro to MT. It went well, and Bonni only took off 5 points for "slow pacing." I could have argued with her about it, but one must choose one's battles wisely. Besides, Bonni rocks and I always respect her opinions.

Tonight the Chargers play Denver at 5:00, and my parents will be coming over after Mass for dinner and a movie. Tomorrow, it's back to work for moi!

Things Im Thankful for For

2006-11-07T00:17:00.000-08:00

Things I'm Thankful for on my Birthday

Here are some things I’m thankful for, a list of my life’s positive elements. Approaching my 51st year on this small, blue orb, I’m thankful for:

Surviving that accident from 2004. There was a time when it would have taken me an hour to feebly type this sentence with one finger.

Related to that, my strength and health. Yes, I know the able-bodied may look askance at me, but I am happy with the way I am, the way God made me. There must be a purpose in it, and I remain ever-anxious to discover it.

My family. My parents are still relatively young and healthy. I could not have survived and thrived without their support and love. And my step-sister Dorene and her boys, my nephews, and husband Richard.

My friends: Harold, Donna, Marina, Tom, Bonni, Jacque, Katie, Monica, Nancy, Alicia and Tien, and so many others. You all rock!

My new job. Bonni came into my life from out of nowhere and has blessed me with a new start on a career as a writer.

My creative talents. I’ve been a little negligent with them since May, but I resolve to continue my growth in that area. I refuse to hide my talents under a bushel basket!

YOU!! My special friend, there is some purpose in why we met. I cannot fathom all its depths. We are stronger together than we are separate; that is your reality and mine, as I’ve come to experience it.

The Depths of the Stereotypical

2006-11-05T13:21:00.000-08:00

The Depths of the Stereotypical

Last night I was watching DOOM on HBO. It's a pretty bad movie--I was surprised it received two stars. It was a pretty good recreation of the classic FPS game, and The Rock pulled through with his usual performance.

But what the film most made me think about was, why there is such a market for B-rated genre films (and books). Why do people eschew the "good" for the "bad" in fiction? I think it's partially because the "rules" of modern fiction are a 19th and 20th century fabrication. Since the era of Sigmund Freud, psychological realism has served as the foundation of any successful narrative art form.

Yet, throughout most of literary history, what we perceive as realism has not mattered to the artist or his/her audience. I'm thinking of, for example, the No plays of ancient Japan, the Greek tragedies, or the myths of Near East Semitic peoples. What matters in these works is not the struggle of everyday men and women against ordinary reality, but rather the Meta-Reality of life's purpose, the meaning of the universe, life and death.

B-movies SF and horror movies, which rely on form much more than substance, reach back into that ancient world of Heroes, Gods, and Demons. The flat characters serve as a reassuring base from which to probe life's mysteries (and miseries) without succumbing to despair. Genre fiction is the mythos of the Age of Science.

Protection and Advocacy

2006-10-26T03:25:00.000-07:00

Protection and Advocacy

Today I had to postpone my IHSS hearing, because PAI didn't want to take my case without Aleyda. She's on vacation till November 6. It took me a few attempts, but I finally got through the stat's tin-can-on-a-string phone system and arranged for a postponement. I sincerely hope I can solve this problem without a hearing, anyway.

Thursday night is my fourth Presentation Skills class. It should be enjoyable, for the most part. I did procrastinate and will have to do the talk outline tomorrow before heading to UCSD.

Harold has had my van all week, and I've been stuck around the house. I really need to get out more, as Donna keeps telling me. Driving is still a possibility; just got to practice and get the van modified a little.

The episode of LOST Wednesday evening was enjoyable. I liked the notion of "conning the con." It was interesting that the Others' island is actually a small island off the coast of the survivors. It reminds me of Lilliput and Blefuscu. Floating islands, anyone?

Lost Time

2006-10-24T02:16:00.000-07:00

Lost Time

I was watching The Lake House the other night with my parents. It's a time-travel romance starring Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock. There are two important facets to the story: yearning for lost time, and the essential need to rewrite history. Bullock first finds Reeves in the past, then loses him to the inescapable weavings of Fate's web, then regains him again by warning him across four years' time.

Then I just finished watching the old Twilight Zone about the guy who goes back in time and tries to prevent Lincoln's assassination (unsuccessfully). In this story, unlike the Bullock epic, we want to rewrite time but we fail. We cannot change history, Rod Serling tells us.

It's not just time we all want to rewrite, however. We have this tendency deep within our psyches to spend unimaginable amounts of emotional energy in trying to rewrite others. We hope, pray, and cajole those we care for to act in a way pleasing to us. We want to rewrite their history, as though in doing so we could rewrite our own. Really, I believe the futile attempt to change others' deep-seated behaviors, even when well intentioned, is a personal battle within ourselves to fulfill some unrequited longing.

Change yourself for the better, and you can affect others' behavior for the better. Attempt to change another person without first examining yourself, and you'll doom your effort to failure.

This I know from experience....

A Really Cool Week

2006-10-16T21:43:00.000-07:00

A Really Cool Week

The weather has definitely turned to autumn and I love it! It's been cloudy, and we've had our first rain.

This past Sunday the Chargers routed San Francisco, and to anyone who remembers the '95 Super Bowl, this was a sweet victory. Philip Rivers was an excellent choice for a young quarterback. I only hope in two years San Diego still has a football team to root for!

My work has slowed down a bit, but this isn't bad. I am catching up on some projects that had lain fallow while I did some other things. Unbelievably, I got a letter from the county confirming a hearing on my IHSS appeal for November 2. This whole situation is so brain-dead, my mind reels from the Kafkaesque absurdity.

I also got a note from my attorneys in the other case, which (equally incredibly) looks to be going to trial in February of next year. I cannot understand why people insist on lawsuits, which are a cost to everybody. Rather sickening, the whole situation.

On the other hand, I took my van in to City Chevrolet last week and found out that I needed a new power window motor. Another $500 down the drain! But, with bad weather coming, I can't afford to get the window stuck wide open in a rainstorm. There are other things needing repairs on the van, such as serpentine belt that's starting to crack, but I can worry about that later. It's not an emergency yet.

Meanwhile, I've gotten through two of the six weeks of the presentations class at UCSD. The class is fun--as all Bonni's classes are. You can't go wrong taking a course offered by Bonni Graham. You will work--and you will learn--you'll be glad you availed yourself of the opportunity.

All the above being said, I personally believe the course could be compacted into a two-day seminar. The practice is nice, but not essential. And the textbook is full of banalities like "make sure you know your audience's goals." DUH!!

Well, that's all for tonight. I'm going to log onto WOW for a while....

LOST: The Prisoner Meets Dr. Moreau

2006-10-07T15:29:00.000-07:00

LOST: The Prisoner Meets Dr. Moreau

I really enjoyed last week's season premiere of LOST. It had all the familiar elements, plus some new material to ponder, with the introduction of the Others' camp.

It seems that, with Sawyer and Kate in the animal cages, and Jack in the dolphin tank, the island is something of a continuing psych experiment gone bad. Remember the end of last season, where they found the pile of pneumatic tubes that had built up for years? The people watching the other hatch dwellers were really part of their own experiment. Juliette's actions with Jack were just the kind of Skinnerian behavior modification one might expect from rogue psychologists.

Then the Sawyer/bear thing. It's like they're turning him into a trained animal. And the "choice" Kate will have to make? Whether to save Jack or Sawyer--a Sophie's Choice dilemma.

Remember the circus animals and apes in The Prisoner? Remember the bizarre psych experiments Number 2 always subjected Number 6 to? I believe there are parallels here. It would be great if LOST's producers could talk Patrick McGoohan out of retirement to play Alvar Hanso!

Giving the Devil

2006-10-02T21:07:00.000-07:00

Giving the Devil...

I watched "Mystic River" with my parents last Friday evening. I had seen it while in the hospital, but couldn't make much sense of it in my morphine-besotted brain. This time, I enjoyed the film, although it was very dark. Clint Eastwood is an excellent director, but his movies are almost Biblical in their outlook. For example, at the start of "Mystic River," a character mentions that the Sean Penn character's "sins have come home to roost." As in the Old Testament, "the sins of the father are visited upon the children."

Meanwhile, I had a quiet Fall weekend and am enjoying the cooler weather. Good riddance to summer! The Chargers lost a close game, which was a serious bummer.

Other than that, have you ever wondered about why some people can act so fake and phony? I have this one friend who seems to have the most tenuous relationship with the truth. And she makes her lies sound so sweet and innocent, you're almost bound to believe her (at first). After a long and hard summer of listening to lies, I've decided that no one can be a friend who is not true to both themselves and others. This woman is a veritable library of dissembling. It's sad, really, because this person has a lot of promise that she'll never fulfill. So many people are hell-bent for self destruction. Aha--that's almost Biblical, too!

Garbage In Garbage Out!

2006-09-25T21:52:00.000-07:00

Garbage In, Garbage Out!

September has gained momentum and is now one more waning month. Waning also is the year. Saturday the 23rd was the first day of autumn. The days are growing visibly shorter, the sunlight ever more lacking with each fall of the golden orb into the Western Sea.

Luckily, San Diego's seasonal changes are less dramatic than those of most regions. The weather's still warm and sunny.

I have started my latest battle with Medi-Cal. The program's annual "redermination" has proceeded to bollix me up. As happens nearly every year, I have had to file an appeal in order to keep my health benefits in tact. The state seems determined to punish honest, working people with disabilities. Even though they are not supposed to count my SSDI income among my resources, the genius social worker in charge of my case went ahead and did so. This would give me a share of cost on IHSS (In Home Supportive Services) of $380 per month. In other words, they want to force me to pay nearly all of Harold's wages.

When I argued with the social worker about what he'd done, he got defensive and replied "We have a new computer system and all I do is put in the numbers." When I recited the formulas he's supposed to use, he blamed the computer. I slammed the phone down after telling him "a computer is only as good as its operator."

Well, back to playing EQ or WOW for a while.

Arminius Returneth

2006-09-20T17:41:00.000-07:00

Arminius Returneth

Well, today I had some free time and logged into EverQuest, my old stomping grounds. It was great to see all my guild buddies and especially Salelann, my friend who's taken such good care of "Arm" in my absence.

I got to explore the new zones a bit, but then typical of SOE, the game server crashed and dumped me out to Windows. After seven years of playing, it's good to see some things never change!!

More later... Or, WOW, here I come!

David

Go Chargers

2006-09-12T19:07:00.000-07:00

Go, Chargers!

Last night's Chargers-Raiders game was sweet for all of us fans in San Diego. The Chargers rolled over the Raiders, 27-0. Phillip Rivers looked ready to go as the new starting QB. Now, let's see what the team can do next week!

Everything else is rolling along well for me. I've been working hard, and reaping some of the benefits of that.

Also, I finished watching all the episodes of ROME on DVD I bought a few weeks ago. The series is superb, and I can't wait for the new season! Don't forget, LOST will be starting in a few weeks. And a new AMAZING RACE starts Sunday!

The weather's been great; you can "sort of" feel autumn in the air, as we think of it in Southern California.

Worst Episode Ever

2006-09-01T01:34:00.000-07:00

Worst Episode, Ever!

So, Joe and I are big Deadwood fans--that's the very dark western that's been running on HBO for the past three seasons. After a rather long and slow build-up, we had great expectations for the series finale.

Well, I sat through the final episode and all I can say is, "What a crock!" Got to be one of the worst episodes, and worst series finales, in the history of TV. It was as though the writers set out to give the audience a big "middle finger."

Let us count the sins:"

Hurst got off Scott-free after a season and a half of sociopath behavior, including ordering the murders of half-a-dozen characters.

This whole season, Swearengen has been coming off as rather an honorable and likeable criminal. He started out as the show's villain, before Hurst showed up. In the final episode, he slits the throat of an "innocent" prostitute in his employ in order to keep Hurst from murdering Trixie, the whore who shot Hurst. Why build Swearengen up to be a "good guy" and then knock him back down at the end? Why did he and the others choose to cop out of the battle with Hurst?

Bullock was oddly taken out of a couple of the last episodes to "campaign for sheriff." Why? Clearly the hands of the authors were visible in this machination, to keep Bullock out of the way for other action.

The widow sold her claim to Hurst in order to be able to stay in town, then left at the end, right behind Hurst's stagecoach! Both her husbands died in vain.

The Earp brothers appeared in the last third of the season for a couple of episodes, giving hope that they might stick around to battle Hurst. No way the writers could have conceived of that, I guess. Instead, the Earp boys just uselessly disappeared after Bullock told them to leave town.

There's more, but that basically runs the gamut of the important stuff.

On other fronts, not much new to report. I finished the Project Management class and got an A. Next up, Presentation Skills for Technical Communicators in about a month. On other projects for ML, I've been quite busy. Which is great! I'll never get back to Europe without money!

The weather here has been quite pleasant. Low 80s at the worst. A great Early Autumn preview.

More ruminations later....

David

Apropos Mon Secret

2006-08-15T02:32:00.000-07:00

Apropos Mon Secret

J'écris en français parce que aucun de mes amis ne connaît pas cette langue langoureuse qui exprime si bien les bouleversements de l'esprit. Ni mes amis, ni ma famille ne sachent les douleurs de mon existence.

Donc, voilà un ancien poème de Verlaine qui dit tout sur le sujet:

Il pleure dans mon coeur . . . "
II pleut doucement sur la ville.Arthur Rimbaud
Il pleure dans mon coeur
Comme il pleut sur la ville,
Quelle est cette langueur
Qui pénètre mon coeur?

O bruit doux de la pluie
Par terre et sur les toits!
Pour un coeur qui s'ennuie
O le chant de la pluie!

Il pleure sans raison
Dans ce coeur qui s'écoeure.
Quoi! nulle trahison?
Ce deuil est sans raison.

C'est bien la pire peine
De ne savoir pourquoi,
Sans amour et sans haine,
Mon coeur a tant de peine!

From Romances sans paroles (1874

Saturday Fun

2006-08-13T01:59:00.000-07:00

Saturday Fun

This morning I got up early (for me) and went to the ML meeting at Starbucks. It was a productive meeting, overall. What I really like about the group is that everyone is friendly and on the ball. No slacking; no BS. And Bonni's a great supervisor/owner. I wouldn't be where I am today without her!

After the meeting, I came home and took a nap after I ate a late breakfast. Harold and I hung out for a while and we watched TV. Nothing on, really, Saturdays. Despite all the channels!

Then around 6:30 my parents came over and brought KFC. We ate their yummy coleslaw and mashed potatoes. And the chicken isn't bad, either! Then we watched the remake of Fun with Dick and Jane on DVD. It starred Jim Carrey and was much better than I expected.

Tomorrow morning I'll work on my current project until my parents pick me up for church and dinner. Deadwood is on tomorrow night! Pretty much the highlight of the TV week for the summer. I can't wait till Rome starts again, too.

David's Day at the Dentist

2006-07-27T13:21:00.000-07:00

David's Day at the Dentist

I thought Id tell you about my day at the dentists. I'll try not to bore you!

I went to the dentist today, because part of a crown broke off in my mouth on Monday. That morning, I was eating an English muffin with peanut butter. Suddenly... CRUCH!!! I thought, well thats odd--this is supposed to be Creamy Jiff! Then I spit out the food (how appetizing, I know) and saw little white and silver bits. Yikes! Luckily on Monday, there was no pain....

Well, I got into the office this morning, and the doctor started working on me right away; that was the good news. The bad news? Not only did I need a new crown, but a root canal to boot! Two hours and $1740 later, Im out the door with a numb mouth and a charged up credit card.

As soon as the numbness wears off, Im using up my last Roxycodone and taking a ride on the Rush Limbaugh Express.

Q: What's more painful than a root canal?
A: Paying for it!

Driving Me Crazy

2006-07-23T14:26:00.000-07:00

Driving Me Crazy!

Well, Harold and I drove over to the Miramar College parking lot yesterday, which was huge and completely empty. We had gone out to exchange a memory card for my camera, and he convinced me to head to the lot on our way back from Best Buy.

So, Harold unbolted the driver's seat from its position and I locked the chair into place. As I pulled the chair into position, a wave of nausea washed over me from head to toe; I thought I might faint. Leftover trauma from the accident, I presume.

Once I got the chair locked down, we tooled around the parking area. Because of my short right leg (thank you, Dr. "What do you use your legs for" T), I cannot reach the gas pedal by about an inch. So Harold (bravely) sat next to me and used the 30-inch-long tire iron to press on the gas. He also could use it to hit the brake if necessary (it wasn't).

Some things were immediately obvious. Besides the gas pedal, I'll have to have the brake pedal adjusted a bit further back. My left leg doesn't flex as much as it used to, so I have a hard time getting my foot up to the pedal. Once the foot is there, braking is just fine, however.

We did not put the shift lever extension in place. I have no idea how shifting will go yet. In general, I seemed father away from the dash than before. I don't know if that's a difference in the chair or me. I also had trouble clicking the turn signal fully on. I think that's just a matter of regaining some more strength, however.

I definitely will want a new tie-down system, seatbelts, and so on, which I hope to get funded by Rehab while I'm still a client of theirs.

Overall, it was a successful venture. My first time behind the wheel in 2.5 years. We spent about an hour cruising the lot, making figure eights and driving down the side lanes. Even though the heat was raging, my van's AC works great, and I was so excited to be driving that I hardly noticed the temperature. My arms did get a good workout, too. I need to do a lot more "lot surfing" to get up to speed, but I'm optimistic. It reminded me of my first time behind the wheel with my nurse driving instructor, Sandy Bartlow. That day, which remains fresh in my memory from the summer of 1974 (I was 18), she drove my 1973 Chevy van to the stadium parking lot, and transferred me to the driver's seat, with a cushion underneath to adjust my height. Once I drove around the stadium a few times, I knew I could accomplish anything. Yes, my van needed modifications, but when all was said and done, I scored a 95/100 on my California driving exam.

Up until 2004, that day proved to be a good omen of success to come. One single day in May changed all that. But now, I'm looking forward to getting back "in the driver's seat" of life.

Freaky Friday

2006-07-22T00:01:00.000-07:00

Freaky Friday

So I went out today and had lunch with my friend Jan. Instead of him bringing me food, as we've been doing since my accident, we got into my van and drove to Mimi's. It was a very pleasant outing, despite the horrendous heatwave we've been experiencing all summer. Even as I write this blog entry, the downtown temperature is hovering around 75 degrees Fahrenheit, with high humidity.

Anyway, Jan had the Chicken Cordon Bleu and I had the French Quarter Burger. Both were excellent, and we took a lot home. We also walked over to Starbuck's and bought lattes.

I spent the rest of the afternoon catching up on my document library project for work. This weekend, I'll also be catching up on my homework for the PM class, as well as filling out reams of paperwork for my Medi-Cal redetermination. Oh, yea!!

Tomorrow after I get up, I'm taking the driver's seat out of the van and seeing what I can do. Wish me luck!

I'm tired of being an invalid... In any sense of the word.

Farenheit 101

2006-07-18T17:58:00.000-07:00

Farenheit 101

Well, the last few weeks have been so hot you could roast a London Broil on the sidewalk. It may or may not be global warming, but it's damn uncomfortable!

In a few minutes, my friend Jan is coming over for a visit, Starbucks in hand. That's cool; we haven't gotten together in a while, since he works and lives in Maryland now.

A week and a half ago, I saw the new Pirates of the Caribbean movie. It was a lot of fun--Johnny Depp is a masterful actor. As with a lot of recent blockbuster movies, I thought the film was a little too long, and dragged through the "muddled middle." Still, it had all the right elements of a rollicking comedy/adventure.

Meanwhile, Deadwood continues into its final season. Last week's highlight (and the highlight of the whole season so far) was the huge fight to the death between Dority and Captain Turner. The best man won, and kept both his eyes in his sockets! Deadwood is not a show for the faint of heart.

My Project Management class is in its 4th week and is progressing nicely. I have nothing to complain about! And I'm working on several projects for Manual Labour. Yee Haw!

Comicon comes to town this weekend. That'll be a blast, I'm sure. Sony's even giving bus rides from the Convention Center to their headquarters in Sorrento Mesa. I probably won't go, though. Heat, crowds, and traffic are an evil combination.

T. and I are going to lunch tomorrow--yay! Can't wait to spend time with her again.

Peering into the Shadows

2006-07-07T21:50:00.000-07:00

Peering into the Shadows

I’m feeling sad tonight; I don’t know quite why. Maybe it’s just that I’m tired from writing all day. Tech writing rather fries and scrambles the brain sometimes. Plus, the boys have been here all evening, yelling and roughhousing around the living room. My eyes feel droopy. My head feels like it was put on backwards this morning. What’s wrong with me? I hate it when I get into these moods.... Do you (dear reader) ever feel this way, or am I the only person in the world who so senses the isolation and ennui coursing through his (or her) body. Or perhaps there are questions that just cannot be answered.

When I took French at USD, one of the first novels we read was by a girl named Françoise Sagan. It was called Bonjour Tristesse– “Hello Sadness.” That’s me tonight, peering over the edge of the deep dark well of loneliness and crying “Hello!” into the simmering shadows.

The Fourth of Never

2006-07-04T15:08:00.000-07:00

The Fourth of Never

Well, today's the Fourth of July! The sun is baking everything beneath it today; the temperatures have been hovering in the 90s for a week or so. I know the ancients used to pray to the Sun God, but I would gladly sacrifice my first-born (or at least a fatted calf) for mercy from the Rain God!

Today I went computer shopping with T. She's so sweet, and learned all about the tie-downs and driving the van with aplomb. I don't think Joe thought she could do it!

The Mira Mesa parade and fireworks are today. I saw the setup for the parade on Mira Mesa Boulevard around 11:00 this morning. I personally would not sit in the blazing midday July heat just to see an amateur parade. Tonight the community will hold its annual fireworks at 9:00. My parents are coming over and we're going to watch the King Kong remake. None of us wants to deal with the fireworks crowd and traffic. Besides, the Summer Pops has much better ones by the bay!

I started my Project Management course with Bonni last week. I think this will be a very beneficial feather to place in my career cap, even though I cannot avow that the topic excites me much.

Deus Ex Police Box

2006-06-25T00:21:00.000-07:00

Deus Ex Police Box

So last night I was watching the season finale of Dr. Who. It was broadcast on Sci Fi a few weeks ago, but I never got around to watching it. I saved it on my DVR for a boring TV night, which last evening definitely was.

The final episode (of a two-parter) revolved around the comeback of the Daleks and their emperor, intent upon destroying the Earth and "harvesting" humanity. Just when things looked their bleakest, i.e., the Earth was about to be destroyed and Dr. Who killed, all was saved by pretty Miss Rose, who had "looked into the heart of the Tardis" and gained godlike powers over space-time. Rose the Goddess wiped out the Daleks with a wave of the hand, saved the doctor, and revived Captain Jack from his mortal slumber.

I think any time a story comes to a close with a mortal human assuming godlike powers to save the day, it has to be considered a case of Deus Ex Machina (God from the Machine). That is, it's an artificial plot device brought from nowhere to save the day. The writers of Dr. Who cleverly attempted to disguise their ruse by having the motto "Bad Wolf" sprinkled in unlikely places throughout most of the season's earlier episodes. Turned out that "Bad Wolf" was Rose trying to communicate with herself in the past. Thus, enough forshadowing was initiated that the Deus Ex Machina was cloaked from view for as long as possible.

Isn't that the way with so much SF, though? The hero (an avatar, perhaps, of a helpless teenager) becomes a god and proves his worth. It rather lives out adolescent fantasies of powerlessness taking the reigns of power. It's a good trope when it's not overly used. In the case of Dr. Who, however, it came pretty damn close to ruining an otherwise decent story.

Emily and Me

2006-06-19T23:18:00.000-07:00

Emily and Me

Lately I've been rediscovering the poetry of Emily Dickenson. I studied her works a lot when I was in Dennis Clausen's American Lit classes at USD. Then, like a lot of things from my undergraduate days, she fell by the wayside.

What I noticed about the "Belle of Amherst" is that she thinks a lot like me. She was a recluse by choice or neurosis, evidently. I, on the other hand, have been living in a sort of Plato's Cave since that accident back in 2004. If you don't drive in Southern California, you are screwed.

It's not that I don't still have friends whom I love to see: I do. Donna and Marina above all others. And my new coworkers have been a joy to know. Then there is celle que j'aime, dont le nom reste inconnu au plan du monde extérieur.

But getting back to Emily, she was always writing about human concerns: nature, death, love. What more is there? Knowledge... The mind/body problem. Look at the following poem:

The BRAIN is wider than the sky,
  For, put them side by side,
The one the other will include
  With ease, and you beside.

The brain is deeper than the sea,
  For, hold them, blue to blue,
The one the other will absorb,
  As sponges, buckets do.

The brain is just the weight of God,
  For, lift them, pound for pound,
And they will differ, if they do,
  As syllable from sound.

Consider the paradox. We can imagine anything that exists in the universe, yet the universe does not appear to imagine us... Or does it? If you take quantum mechanics and string theory to its extreme, you arrive at the anthropic principle: the universe exists because we perceive it. We, all of us, are the omniscient observer who brings the un-being into existence. But, the universe then becomes self-referential, a tautology. We observe, we think, and matter pops into existence. Matter then pops into existence to create the observer who will initiate even more parallel universes, ad infinitum. See the paradox?

Memento Mori

2006-06-13T00:55:00.000-07:00

Memento Mori

When got home from shopping on Saturday, I saw this beautiful card in my mail. It was from my doctor’s office. I tore the card out of its envelope with a great sense of anticipation—it looked like a party invitation or something. But it was actually a death notice. “We regret to inform you of the untimely death of Sue Fenton-Warner, our beloved nurse practitioner, on May 26, 2006. I was in shock! I’ve known this kind, caring woman for 10 years. She was around my age, maybe a couple of years older; she seemed to be the picture of health. I just saw her a month ago when I went for my 3-month visit!

Sue is the second person I’ve known who has died without warning and prematurely in the last month. Rich, the husband of my former coworker Brigitte, died of a sudden, massive heart attack in May. It was totally unexpected. Shortly before Rich’s death, they had just celebrated their “110th” birthday party after a volleyball game—on the beach.

I don’t know, it makes me feel so... precarious, so empty. Why do I live and these good people pass away? What’s so special about me that there is some plan I’ve yet to fulfill?

My best friend when I went to “Sunshine School” on Balboa Avenue was a black kid with Duchenne MD named Shane. We went everywhere together. I hung out with him and his family so much, I started to think I WAS black. You might say I was a wannabe black before it was HIP to wannabe black! His dad was a drill instructor at MCRD. After we fought so hard to get out of that school, I got into Kearney first. The school officials promised Shane could get in the next semester, if I did well. So I worked my ass off to succeed. But, then just around Christmas time, Shane caught pneumonia and died. That’s the fate of all kids with MD. All the boys I went to elementary school with died before age 18.

When my mom married my step-dad in 1971, he had three kids of his own. The oldest, Wayne, was born with a congenital heart defect. He was 9 years younger than I. Of my three step-siblings, he and I were the closest. He was very artistic, and in fact I still have one of his little drawings in my room. He died of a heart attack at age 20, while a majoring in photography at Palomar College.

It makes you think... Memento Mori

Night of the Living Republicans

2006-06-07T19:20:00.000-07:00

Night of the Living Republicans

This land we call our country, which we manifestly stole from the Indians and the Mexicans, is not a democracy. The oligarchs have manipulated elections to their own ends, which are not the public's ends, but rather, the End of the Republic.

Yesterday the Zombie Republicans crept forth from their whitewashed tombs and elected Brian Bilbray to replace disgraced, traitorous Republican congressman Duke Cunningham. That the people of the district could replace a Republican crook with a Republican lobbyist and demagogue fully demonstrates that our system is in its last throes. The 50th District has been so gerrymandered that no Democrat, ever, could win an election there. The Republicans own an overwhelming majority, and they would rather keep true to the party than think for themselves.

"Brains! Braiiiinnnns!" The zombies cry. If only the voters had the brains to make a meal worthy of a zombie, perhaps yesterday's election would have turned out different.