Truly Disappointing

Sunday, February 05, 2006

seven on a sunday

Why is overthinking things a "girl" thing? Because a lot of the guys I know do it, too. Granted, they do it differently, but it's still overthinking.

What a fucking dumbass asshat loser fuckwad. Enough said.


I've been at union leadership training. What I love about this group of people is that they are used to the idea that we are stronger working together. They are therefore very welcoming and open, for the most part, and will talk with you and share. And all of them are older than I am so they've been around and know things. The history of labor in the US is my new personal history research project -- I've done a little research back on my first thesis topic, but I'm up for more.

Soundtrack to my 400 miles:
Rush, Roll the Bones
Jim Croce, the love songs compilation
Rush, Counterparts
Pearl Jam, Ten
U2, How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb
Grey's Anatomy, the soundtrack
The Smiths, Singles
Butterfly Boucher, flutterby

I realized during Roll the Bones that Rush is an attractive band because of their abilities with the extended metaphor, a conversational techinique in which Susan and I are disgustingly well-versed. The ability to write an entire album in different permutations of a metaphor, as well as the introduction of double entendre and wordplay (as well as the kicking-ist bass lines in rock), may make Rush geek rock, but also make some of it very good rock

I read a lot of books. I frequently can't remember what I finished two weeks ago because I've moved so far beyond on. Recent reads worth mentioning:
The Life of Pi. Yann Martel. Must be finished, as the ending is the story.
Dreams from My Father. Barack Obama. I am madly in love with his politics. More later.
Hooking Up. Tom Wolfe. Short essays. He has an incredible voice and an interesting perspective -- this is my introduction to Wolfe and I liked it enough to pick up the Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test. Report, well, eventually.

I'm currently reading John Le Carre's The Constant Gardener. It's a male book. It is written by a man in a man's voice with manly versions of women. Do men feel as alienated by depictions of male characters as women often do when reading male authors? And why is it that there is a female literary ghetto but not a male ghetto? I mean, there is "chick lit," sometimes with it's own section apart within the novels, but there is no corresponding male counterpart for Tom Clancy and Louis L'Amour. This is, in my never-humble opinion, blatant sexism in the publishing industry. I've read a few of Jennifer Weiner's books. They are not chick lit (in the derrogatory, OMG, this is a book about a cute young woman who loves shoes, shopping, and dating sense). They are novels with female protagonists. If the main character in a book is a woman, and the book is written by a woman, does that mean that it is automatically pulp fiction and should be ghettoized like sci-fi and fantasy novels are?

I am being mauled and sexually-harrassed by one giant grey tabby cat as I try to pour my thought out into the open and inviting void that is the world wide web. Sullivan says Hi.


  • I've been keeping an eye out for Obama ever since the last DNC. I'll be interested to hear your report. Now that we've lost pretty much all the major players in the Civil Rights Movement, you have to wonder who will step up... Barack Obama may be that man...

    By Blogger Pinky, at 9:25 AM  

  • steeeeeve!!! hes trying to hypnotize me with his eyes!!! meow!

    By Blogger Susan, at 6:34 PM  

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