Twisted Spinster

Well, I tried, I really tried, to watch the Democratic National Convention blowout last night. First, I had to find C-Span — my cable company has moved said channel around so many times I never know where it is. Once found, I became distracted by a spectacular thunderstorm outside my apartment, complete with a lightning strike that seemed to be right across the street — for a wonder the power didn’t even flicker, but that’s one reason I didn’t even bother turning on the computer last night. There was also the cat box to clean out, dirty dishes in the sink…

I think you can see where I am going with this. The DNC fandango wasn’t exactly what you’d call “compelling television.” Unless you really like watching smug, white, forty-something “hipster” housewives attempting to dance to the same damn Sixties and Seventies soul-‘n’-rock songs (Aretha U2 Fleetwood That Other Soul Guy) that they play at all these things. Oh, and Sheryl Crow came on to sing four or five of her dreary songs. And when the speechifiers came on, it was as everyone else is saying about the thing: an unending litany of America Sucks, Life In The US Is Hell On Earth, There Is No Justice In America Today — one guy even said (I swear) that America was facing the worst times he’d ever experienced, or something like that. I think that was Bill Richardson (?) the governor or New Mexico or is it Arizona? One of those dry places full of Indians and New Age Hippies, anyway. He was also the guy that seemed to equate agreeing with George Bush on this policy and changing one’s mind (specifically, McCain changing his mind) on various different policies, as “not thinking for yourself.” Anyway, life sucks in the US because of George Bush, so our only hope is to vote Obama into office, and then I guess puppies and rainbows will rain down upon the land (hard on the puppies, I guess) and that little girl whose dad works for the Obama campaign won’t be confused when the man her daddy told her was “the president” doesn’t actually turn out to be “the president” after all.

The theme of last night’s festivities was basically this: if you don’t vote for Obama you will be dissing the memory of the great Martin Luther King! Several of King’s relatives came on to speak. Incidentally, is every prominent black person a “reverend” now? One more thing: I notice, as I always have, that black people take much more care with their appearance than the typically sloppy white people do. White women in the audience were typically wearing the badly-fitting t-shirts and indifferent pants that I see them wearing everywhere in public now. Most of the women who got up on stage were dressed in suits or at least a better fitting pair of jeans (like Nancy Pelosi), but then this girl who had been in the Olympics (I forget her name) hopped up to present something or other, and she was wearing a shirt that bared an inch of midriff, a short little faded jeans skirt, and flip flops. I mean, I know it must have been hot in Denver that day but for God’s sake, you’re on national tv, not at Hooters. Anyway, as I was saying, all the black people, male and female, seemed to have taken a bit more care with their appearance — their hair done, a bit (or more than a bit) of jewelry and makeup, many of the older men wearing jackets and caps — and not all those stupid baseball caps either. If I were black the one thing that would bother me most of all would be the way white people seem to take no pride in their appearance these days, as if the universe was entitled to endure stained t-shirts, baggy gym slacks, women dressed in what seem to be pastel sacks, unkempt hair… and I’m as bad as any of them, I will admit.

There was the constant, wearying drumbeat of “we want Change! We want America to Change! We don’t like the way it is now! We want it all Changed!” that was like being smacked in the face with a board over and over. There is not and never has been any sign that any Republican president is going to do anything serious to derail any of the supposedly threatened “rights” of Americans (including the “right” of American women to “choose” — which means to choose to kill their inconvenient fetuses so their sex lives won’t be interrupted) but these were dragged out again and again by speaker after speaker as examples of what only Obama could protect and only if he were president.

So I didn’t make it to the end — in fact, I turned it off about forty-five minutes before the Great One was due to speak in front of his weird Greek temple mockup. When I turned the tv on this morning they were repeating some of his speech, so I did get to hear a little of it, enough to note that his famous baritone had taken on a metallic note, possibly from overuse, or maybe he really is Robobama.

I am sure I meant to post something about something but last night when I got home I was exhausted, and I couldn’t figure out why. I went to bed early, and woke up about three with a raging thirst. I drank about a gallon of water and tried to fall back asleep, but even though I was still exhausted, and felt like I had gone to bed after a vodka bender, I was only able to doze. This meant, of course, that I was so tired I couldn’t get out of the house in time and got to work late. And all day I felt worse and worse — tired, feverish, my mouth and throat feeling like I’d been swilling acid, and food just didn’t taste right — until my limp brain cells finally realized I must be coming down with something. So I had to drag myself off to evil Walmart for some Tylenol.

Anyway, I’m sure that was fascinating to everyone. I feel better due to the Tylenol, and I’m drinking tea with honey, so maybe later I’ll write that review of Buckaroo Banzai that you’ve all been waiting for so patiently. (Yes, I finally watched it.)

Heh, did I say I’d write a post today? Well — I lied! Sort of — it’s technically still the same day, though it’s nearly midnight (and way past my bedtime). Anyway, just a couple of thoughts:

I have two new reasons not to vote for Obama, if I needed any more beyond the fact that he’s a cardboard candidate whose platform seems to be “Prove you’re not racist, America: vote for the black guy!” Here are the new reasons:

1. He’s picked Joe Biden as his running mate. Isn’t that the same guy who was slammed in the press (and by both liberal and conservative blogs) for saying something like Obama was “clean” and “articulate”? Way to show you have absolutely no pride and also very little confidence in yourself — “Shoot, I’d better get me an experienced old white dude to be my running mate, so I won’t look so much like Urkel running for prez.” It’s not working — he looks more out-of-touch and inexperienced than ever.

2. He opened his yap about the Olympics over in China but instead of saying something normal like how nicely they put together a big spectacle he praised their “infrastructure” and how it was superior to that of his own country, which someone should remind him is the United States of America, not Canada, or the United Nations, or the United Federation of Planets, or whatever imaginary country he thinks he’s running for president of.

No really, here is the quote in full: “Everybody’s watching what’s going on in Beijing right now with the Olympics. Think about the amount of money that China has spent on infrastructure. Their ports, their train systems, their airports are vastly the superior to us now, which means if you are a corporation deciding where to do business you’re starting to think, ‘Beijing looks like a pretty good option.’”

For Christ’s sake. Yeah, I’ve always been impressed by the way China’s “infrastructure” took care of those demonstrators in Tienanmen Square.

Hi kids! Man, I don’t know what happened to me this weekend, but I’ve just been exhausted — Friday night I went to bed at something like 7:30 in the evening, and slept for about twelve hours, and last night I did almost the same thing. Perhaps it is the thought of all the things I still have to do around here: I have to do a pile of laundry, I have a sink full of dirty dishes I have to move into the dishwasher (oh, the humanity!), I still have two cheap bookcases to put together (they’ve been sitting on my floor in their boxes for almost as long as I’ve been in the apartment), and I have to then put away the rest of the books. Then I have to drag all my trash out to the dumpster, and vacuum the rug, make some sort of effort to clean up the non-carpeted parts of the apartment (the hallway, kitchen, and bathroom, and the older cat again peed outside of the box — fortunately I had put paper down), and sweep up the patio (Fay scattered mulch everywhere!). Feel sorry for me yet?

Yeah, I know, such a hard life… anyway, I’d like to thank everyone who contributed to my emergency fund. I’m almost out of the woods, and anticipate being able to hand that rent check over to the landlord in good time. You are the greatest. And just to show my appreciation, my next post will appear today instead of next week, and I promise it won’t be about me or my cats.

There is this strange, bright light in the sky. I’m not sure what it is. Is it deadly? I don’t think I’ve ever seen it before.

Also, the trees aren’t shaking and swaying like they are supposed to. Could it be that the air is not moving? Nah, we all know that’s impossible. And one more thing… I don’t see any water falling from the sky! What’s that all about? What am I going to do with all these umbrellas?

Not only did my cable go out last night (but not the power, thank God), but this morning was another fun white-knuckle ride through horizontal rain and traffic light outages. In the dark. Oh — and for some reason the door lock on my car’s driver side door is jammed, or broken, or something.

Thank you to everyone who has contributed to my emergency rent fund. Your generosity is really helping.

Aargh. I hate to do this, but — I need to ramp up the fundraiser. Due to a variety of circumstances that are too complicated to get into now, I am not going to be able to pay my rent. So, anything anyone can contribute will be much appreciated.

Update: and if things are bad enough, I’ve got Fay squatting on top of me like… like some kind of huge, wet, squatting thing. I made it home, a white-knuckle drive through squalls, going twenty miles under the speed limit (if that fast) because the last thing I need right now is a wrecked car. Considering the way most people in Orlando drive, that’s a crapshoot every day, never mind during tropical storms.

Meh, I am going to curl up with the internet and zone out. Thanks everyone who has already contributed to the fund to keep me from being homeless. I really need it — let’s just say that something I was counting on fell through and kind of left me swinging. No, not the job — they haven’t fired me yet. But the pay is barely enough in the best of times. Argh.

Escaped Emu Shocked With Taser Gun.

I saw Diamanda Galas live on stage in Miami Beach some years back, before I escaped from Hell By the Sea and moved to the comparative paradise of Disney World (but thereby hangs a tale)– anyway, let’s just say that it’s a good thing I didn’t do drugs or have some mental disease, because there’d be a whole new religion. Etc.

Anyway, Diamanda Galas is awesome. I’m afraid to have any of her cds in my house. Enjoy. Also, this website needs her as a soundtrack. (Via Tom McMahon, aka “Don’t Mess With Wisconsin.”)

(Update: I have edited this for content. See, I’m nice…)

Sometimes these things just come together in my head…

Try “Fay Predicted To Rage Into Hurricane, Slam Florida Again” on for size. And then there’s the byline: “Forecaster: ‘I’m Afraid This Is Going To Be The Week Of Fay.'” Um. Can you wrap your head around the concept of “shut up” or maybe “don’t tempt fate” (or Fay)? All I can say is… God just doesn’t want me to go to the beach this summer. (I will say though, that so far Fay has been kind of a disappointment. I’ve had more rain during a regular rainstorm.)