My life is hard

I had to work for about an hour today, so obviously the whole day has been tainted. I cannot remove the stench of work from my day and I'm tired and really looking forward to a nice, relaxing weekend. Of four or five days.

Now I'm faced with a conundrum: I don't particularly want to watch anything I've downloaded illegally or any of the DVDs I'm constantly buying on Amazon with all my spare money. And it looks like rain outside, and all of my friends have "jobs," so there's nothing much for me to do.

Pity me, therefore, as I go off to take another nap.

I've had some time to think about unemployment lately. Been revising my resume and gearing up to half-heartedly get out there and start interviewing and what-not, since the place I work on-site has gone all batshit and there's no longer any certainty about anything there.

I have a tendency to go a little bonkers when I don't have work to do for too long, and I think I've finally figured out why: it's because my friends have jobs.

When you're in school you get three months off every year, and it's no big deal because everyone else has this time off, too. Your social life doesn't necessarily have to change all that much (assuming you don't move every summer: thanks again, mom). But with each passing year it seems like less and less of the people I know have nothing better to do all day than provide me with entertainment. This has to change.

I am calling, therefore, on all of you to quit your jobs (I make an exception for those who work for Silver Lining: I know I'll be seeing you often enough once you get fired for no reason). We'll go to the zoo, play games, hang out in cafes and generally fritter away the days in carefree, idyllic bliss.

Except on days when I have to work. Then you're on your own.

maht

Is the blogosphere a square?

I was bitching to my friend David about how nobody has commented on any of my posts, by which I mostly meant people I know not commenting. Most of the people I've talked to have expressed intent to do so, but nobody has, as of yet, delivered. He pointed out that by reading other blogs and commenting on them, I would generate a sense of community or something and get some people I don't know reading my posts, theoretically commenting and what-not. Since I was hoping that this would be somewhat interactive, I decided to give it a shot.

I tested David's theory by clicking the "Next Blog" link at the top of my own a few times to sally forth into the blogosphere (which I don't think is actually a sphere, or a dumptrucks, but rather a series of tubes) and see what would come up.

Attempt #1: A blog about jars. Some sort of jar celebration. A tribute to jars. I have no strong feelings about jars, so I try again.

Attempt #2: A blog about Saras. This appears to be a collection of news feeds featuring women named Sara. I spotted an article from a colloege campus about activity in the quad, which quoted someone named Sara. One about something Sara Lee Inc. was up to. Sara Evans, Ph.D. It may well go on forever and encompass everyone named Sara ever. It's also nothing but ads, ads, ads for the first three screens or so. There were no personalized posts, and I decide I can't get excited about a first name for its own sake, so I move on.

Attempt #3: Hindi movie reviews. I click again.

Attempt #4: This is the first one that appears to have been created by a person to be used as a journal of some kind. I'm a little nervous when the title bar comes up as "Undecided," which proves to be quite apt when the rest of the page loads. It was created this morning using the same site I'm on. It has the default template and only one entry, which is, in its entirety: "Just testing to see if this works." And then I notice that the blog isn't even really called "Undecided." It's called "Right2Offend" in the URL, so there's clearly some of waffling going on here.

So maybe I'll focus on getting myself some lunch for a bit, and try again later.

maht

My Sun is in the house of the Moon

A friend of mine has decided to do my astrological chart, pictured to the right.

I don't pretend to understand much of this, and from what I gathered during the time we spent discussing this, a lot of it is open to interpretation. I find this kind of thing fun but not terribly serious, like playing with a Ouija board when you're a kid. Or the white noise/spirit thing, UFOs and the like. And I should also point out that my friend who believes in this stuff is not necessarily a frivolous person, and I've never heard her mention spirits, crystals or UFOs.

So anyway, as is obvious, my Pluto is opposite Mars, and my 7th house is very interesting. Either that or this is a schematic for a future episode of Stargate.

I retain my skepticism about all this, if only because it was being done by someone who knew me, and it's hard to get all excited when someone tells you that they see something in your chart that they might also know about you personally. There were a couple of things that she seemed surprised about, which was the more interesting stuff. I had a hard time following a lot of what she was saying, so forgive me for not going into more detail.

Suffice it to say that not only is my Sun in the house of the Moon, the Moon is in the house of the Sun (they swapped keys at a party is my guess), and there was some stuff about communication, self-confidence and being wary of groups and disillusionment. And my Capricorn is rising, which isn't what it might sound like.

So now my blog moves into Jupiter, and is expanding.

Do not actually kill your cats

My innocent-seeming post on House, M.D. has gotten me in trouble with a friend who works for PETA. So we're clear: I did not censor a comment to this blog: she simply didn't post one. She sent me an email privately, and I have decided to post at least part of my response here.

Anyway, this is at least partially my fault. At the very least I didn't fully explain the joke. See, I was just sort of watching an episode of the show while writing the entry, when something I found funny happened, and I decided to include it.

But the scenario was basically that this woman had allergies she hadn't known about, brought on by a cat she had inherited when her mother recently died. House starts to write her a prescription for pills and she goes "Pills?!?" and makes a face. So he throws away the prescription and starts to write another for a nasal spray, and she goes "Steroids?!?" and makes a face. So House looks at his pad, then back at her, and says "Well, if you live near a river, I can write a prescription for a bag..."

So there's a level on which it's the same as the Solomon "Cut the baby in half" thing. He was saying that the woman needed either pills or steroids for her allergies, or she needed to find the cat another home. He was simply making his point in a way that might be considered inappropriate, which is kind of OK, if only because he's a fictional character whose thing is saying things that a doctor would never say. If I'd posted something about the wisdom of Solomon, though, there is no way I would've gotten an email pointing out how mean people are to babies every day. Unless I had a friend who worked for People for the Ethical Treatment of Babies.

Now I know that this person doesn't have a tv, so would be unfamiliar with the premise of the show. And that she works for PETA, where they are faced with the real stories of terrible things happening to domestic and non-domestic animals all the time. But I don't think it's unreasonable to assume that, as a guy who has two cats myself, I might not actually be advocating the murder of cats.

She went on to say that she was not just getting on my case, that she would call me out if I made a racist joke as well. Which in the first place I don't think is necessarily true. I think if I made a joke that sounded racist, she might assume I was joking about racism, as I undoubtedly would be, because she knows me and might grant me the benefit of the doubt. The other point here being that it's not the same thing at all. I think if you asked someone (we'll call this person Mike) who had worked and struggled against racism their whole lives if these issues deserve to be lumped together, they would feel you were cheapening something important to them with the comparison. I think Mike might say that people use this tactic not so much because they believe it's a valid comparison, but because it's an easy way to rack up a point in an argument. It's the "fuck you" that ends the fight, the invokation of Naziism that gets your opponent to sit down.

I don't, for the record, believe that man has dominion over the Earth and all the creatures therein. I do believe that some legitimately awful things are being done every day to animals. I also believe that some pretty terrible things are being done to humans every day. The fact that I can believe this and not make either one my life's work is not inherently indicative of a flaw in my character. Everybody has to prioritize things and make choices for themselves. And everybody else has to respect the choices you've made, or at least decide that whatever disagreement isn't worth endlessly arguing about. Or decide to not have anything to do with you. It's a basic part of our ability to talk to one another at all.

I guess on some level this boils down to funny vs. not-funny. And I don't necessarily think that because something is a serious topic that it's not ok to make jokes. There's a level on which the things which sadden us are the very things we most have to try to have a sense of humor about. At the very least, it can sometimes help us choose our battles.

maht

I am not a television doctor

The second season of House, M.D. showed up today and I watched a couple of episodes. Hard not to love a doctor who prescribes a bag and a river for cat allergies.

To me, this show is a great comedy, and has very little to do with the patients he's treating. The patients are just an excuse to make the show an hour long.

I get comparisons to the character a lot (and my own brother thinks I look like Hugh Laurie) and I wonder sometimes if I should get offended, since he's such a heartless bastard most of the time. Instead I'm kinda flattered, because he's terribly funny, and very good at what he does. There are worse things to be.

And one of the patients in one of the episodes is played by Matthew Armstrong, who was Hamlet to my Polonius in college.

The new season starts soon, so watch it if you can. Also worth checking out is A Bit of Fry and Laurie, British sketch comedy by Stephen Fry and Hugh Laurie, the first two seasons of which are out now (I think) on DVD. If you've only seen him as House, this show (or Blackadder) will give you a whole new side of a very talented performer.

Blogs are officially dead

The last several years, whenever I get into something on the web, it's a sign that its stint of popularity is over. Therefore, I have decided to destroy the weblog or "blog" by creating one of my own.

Being new to this, I'll be open to suggestions, ideas and the like. I'll be reading my comments and such at least until I either figure out what I'm doing or lose interest and skip off into something else.

So, welcome.

maht

I hope John C. Reilly washes his hands

Ian called me up at the last minute with tickets to go see Tom Waits recently. Since he hadn't come to town in something like seven years, I agreed to the obscene ticket price and we were off.

Standing in the will-call line for an hour or so. The girl in front of us worked for the Reader, and had just finished a profile of Mr. Waits. She was able to confirm the rumor that a box set of unreleased stuff was going to make an appearance this October.

I thought I saw Horatio Sanz from SNL walking by, and pointed him out to Ian, who thought I should've said hello. Since the only things I might've said were: "Why can't you get through a sketch without laughing?" or "Why aren't you funny?" I opted to remain quiet.

Later, inside, I got a better look at the guy, standing with some friends near the stairs. I was in the middle of telling Ian "Oh, it is the fat guy from SNL," when I noticed he was looking at me, so I kinda hope he can't read lips.

The show started. Last time I saw Tom Waits I was quickly mesmerized, and stayed that way until he was done. This time it faded during the first batch of songs, and I was a little distracted before he even wheeled out the piano. The guitarist was playing über-slick blues riffs, like he had just stopped by from Eric Clapton soundalike school, and it was sort of distracting.

After a couple of hours, I decided to risk going out for a cigarette. They had "No Re-entry" signs on every available surface, but when I got to the Atrium, there were about 30 security and off-duty service staff hanging around, doing nothing but chatting with each other. I figured one of them would agree to let me back in, but every single one of them said no, so I wandered around the closed bar for a couple of minutes.

I spotted actor John C. Reilly (Chicago, Boogie Nights, every other movie made in the last five years or so, etc.) coming up the stairs. I told him I didn't want to hassle him, but wanted to say that I was a fan and I shook his hand before moving off down the stairs myself. That's when I realized he was coming out of the men's room when I happened upon him.

After washing my hands, I went out for a smoke and waited outside until the show ended about 20 minutes later. Met a girl who had spent $800 for her and her friend to be able to attend, which made me feel an awful lot better about spending $84 each for our seats.