Dec

22

Quitting Smoking Sucks!!

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I quit smoking. Again. For anyone wondering, it still sucks. This will be the third time, and I have to say each time has been different, which I’m both happy about (at least it’s something new) and pissed about (I have no idea how long or in what particular way it’s going to suck). The first time was easy. I just woke up one morning and decided that I wasn’t going to smoke anymore, and then didn’t for almost five years. The second time was not so easy. I got really angry and stressed out for three days, then things seemed to calm down and I settled into it for two years. This time I’m definitely on edge, but really I just feel sad. Sad like I’ve lost someone really close to me. I swear…grief, and lots of it. Poor little smokie…he was such a good friend.

So to improve my mood, I’ve decided to lock myself in my room and read Cormac McCarthy’s “The Road.” To call it bleak is to call a bowling ball size tumor hanging out on a lymph node inconvenient. The book is bleak, but the word doesn’t seem to be capable of carrying the emotional weight of what “bleak” means in that world. I had to stop reading for fear of deciding that post-apocalyptic earth was not the dreamy paradise of The Road Warrior (replete with psychotic and hom/icidal/osexual gangs to war with), and that fact coupled with the thought of such an eternity without smoking was enough to warrant jumping off a building. The thing about McCarthy is that you keep reading, driven by some inexplicable idea that there might just be some redemption if you just read a little further. This is actually my first McCarthy novel, but I suspect that this idea is a wee naive. He is able to play on our happy ending conditioned brain and lure us with hope he never intends to provide, I suspect. But he does it in such a pretty and accomplished way that I can’t be mad at him for it.

I ‘m also stopping the word of the blog. It was intended to help me improve my vocabulary, but given the fact that I don’t remember any of the words I have thus far chosen, it’s just kinda stupid, I think.

I am, however, still enjoying the hell out of this…it says that it’s based on a true story which makes it all the more funny:

glumbert - No sh*t, sure lock

Dec

19

The mystery of memory and fleas

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What a trip all this free time is.  So I’m lounging around this morning, doing my daily round of blog reading, listening to KCRW and sipping coffee out of a mug with a ridiculously unfunny quip about being a writer (and not writing) that Karena gave me.  Which is unlike her cause she’s usually funny.  Aaanyway, so I’m about to rant about some news tidbit I’m reading when a song comes on that seems really familiar.  I can’t place it, and I’m struggling to identify it because it feels like a song that used to either overplay or overhear.  Finally, I break down and check out the playlist on their sight.  Song to the Siren by This Mortal Coil (check it out here), and it all comes back to me.  I’m 16 or 17 in a friend’s bedroom, and she’s telling me all about this great band she just heard and played that song for me.  I can remember the entire scene so vividly…her dank basement room that everybody I knew envied (easy access for unauthorized late night excursions, well ventilated so that - we thought - no one could smell the weed/cloves/cigarettes), faux wood paneled walls covered with posters (I remember X, Victims Family, Siouxsie), the shitty flat mattress that sat on the concrete floor.  She played that song for me, and even though I remember liking it at the time, I promptly forgot about it.  I’m pretty sure I never heard it again, and never thought about that memory.  That is, until this morning when some weird, random synapse fired in response to a song.  Wow.  That’s like (gulp) twenty years ago.
So I bought the song, which led to an itunes spluge of a handful of music I’ve been thinking about getting recently including:Yeah Yeah Yeah’s - Is Is
Iron & Wine - Such Great Heights
The Glove - Blue Sunshine (a cool little side project thing from 1983 by Robert Smith and some knucklehead from Siouxsie and the Banshees - it’s pretty great).  Check it out here.

On a separate note, I have fleas. How does one get rid of fleas? I mean, besides the plague, is there anything I need to worry about? So if you’re going to come in proximity of me anytime soon, you should just be aware.

Word of the Post

Obstreperous: Adj.: 1.  Uncontrollably noisy    2.  Stubbornly resistant to control

As in: Spencer’s obstreperous mood made it difficult to accept that old age brought fleas.

Dec

4

Could it be that sanity is returning to the US?

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Dare we venture to hope? In spite of today’s current statement by Bush the Ridiculous, it’s possible that the rest of our governmental infrastructure has returned to a state of relative sanity. That the NIE summarized what seemed to be the consensus around the world - that Iran does not have an active nuclear weapons program - is good news. It shows, I hope, that in spite of some of the most powerful people’s desire to go to war with Iran, the possibility of it happening is now dimming. I’m daring right now to hope that this is some sign of a return to a government which does not act in (complete) concert with one ultra-powerful constituency.

Hawkish leaders in Iran (as in many other countries) have been milking the reactionary behavior of the US Government for some time now, allowing the fear of the (very real) threat of military force by the US to shore up support. Without this fear, I often wonder how more moderate forces may have fared in Iran, especially given domestic policies which are repressive (to say the least), and questionable in their success at caring for the Iranian people (an assumption on my part, I have to admit, but not completely ill informed). Hmmm…a leader using fear to cover incompetence, disastrous domestic policies, contempt for the rule of law and civil liberties…sounds familiar…can’t quite place it, but I know I’ve heard that somewhere before.

Wow…I just used hope three times in a paragraph talking about the US Government. What the hell is going on with me? Maybe I’m just being sentimental. For some reason, The Mountain Goats always make me feel hopeful (for some inexplicable reason), and this post with free tracks coupled with the idea of a new album made me all wobbly inside. Who can tell about the weird inner workings of the human psyche.

Word of the Post

Acclivity: noun - An ascending slope

As in: “Spencer’s reckless acclivity of hope seemed to permeate his post”

Current video making me giggle like a 12 year old boy

glumbert - Everyday Normal Guy

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