~yawns and stretches~

It's 5:26am, and I'm just sitting down with my first cuppa joe. My caffeine consumption is seriously lagging these days, and that is probably not a bad thing.

I am relatively wide-awake for it being such an early hour. I was awakened around 3:30 by a combination of the pain in my back and the wretched feline yowling downstairs... sounded too much like my daughter saying "mom." Does that "mother hearing" never go away? ~sigh~

I hope you all liked yesterday's entry on The Story of Stuff. Other than some statistics, it really didn't present any information that I didn't know, but I hope it gets spread around the internet enough and seen by enough of those with the "Wal-Mart mentality" that SOMETHING in there strikes a chord with our consumer-driven masses.

Not that I think Wal-Mart is really any worse of a retailer than Target or K-Mart or Sears or Abercrombie or Macys... I see the same countries of origin on the labels of products sold in those stores as I do in Wally-World.

You know, if Americans were to not shop for a month (hell, two weeks), it would do more to damage our economy than high gas prices, plummets in the stock market, the failure of large banking/insurance corporations, and the housing crisis combined.

Whomever is to be the next president of this country (I really pray that it isn't McCain, and I'm a Republican. A Republican with a conscience, that is.) is walking into a truly fucked-up scenario.

Another big thank you to the Clinton administration. It was his administration that deregulated the securities industry in '98/'99 (somewhere around there, I'm getting old, gimme a break, OK). Those controls had been put in place after the GREAT DEPRESSION. And, hey, look... it took us less than a decade without those controls and regulations in place to totally screw things up. Gotta love the global economy and the fact that our currency is backed by nothing of any value. We have tremendous national debt and trade deficits. Oh hell... you all know how we got into this mess.

Oh, hey... I got one of those DVD's that Clarion sent out in order to smear Obama. If you didn't receive one, it is titled "Obsession." The "O" in the title is the Islamic crescent and stars and the cover art definitely lends an "apocalyptic" tone. I didn't get to watch it. The perverse and twisted part of my nature really did want to watch it for purely vicarious reasons. The offspring (another Republican with a conscience) however, stated quite matter-of-factly, "You know we're not watching this, right?" as she deposited it in the trash on Saturday - the very same day that it was received in the mail. I really don't know where that bitch gets it from.... ~insert giggle and wink here~

Well, it's 5:50am... shower time.

Ciao!

www.storyofstuff.com

The "dog days" of summer are upon us here in Cowlumbus, Ohia. With the combination of the heat, high humidity, UV warnings, and air quality alerts, I have been confined to the relative comfort of air conditioned indoors and relegated to regular usage of antihistamines and inhalers to combat the allergens and airborne pollutants. Thankfully, I do live in a neighborhood where brown lawns become the norm this time of year, so some respite is at hand.



Love our local planning here... One of three bridges into downtown has been closed for replacement for well over five years now - closer to ten I'm fairly certain, but I cannot remember the exact time it was that I chased the thief over the closed bridge... (**you have to love the way my right-brain correlates data...**) Last month, one of the two remaining bridges into downtown (also scheduled for replacement) was ordered permanently closed by the Ohio Department of Transportation due to structural issues. That leaves the one remaining two-way bridge on Broad Street as the only way into downtown. It was bad enough that the Broad Street bridge was the only way OUT of downtown to the West, but to have it as the only access into downtown as well.... And, I will find myself part of that fray on Moanday morning... I am close enough to I-70 that I could attempt that access into the southern edge of downtown/the Brewery District/German Village via that route, but the 70/71 split across downtown is an absolute clusterfuck at the best of travel-times. That section of freeway is the eternal/infernal traffic fatality just waiting to happen. Thank God the Level-1 trauma center at Grant Hospital is about 6 blocks from that particular section of freeway. Many, many people (the ones who actually managed to survive the wrecks that occur on that miserable section of highway, to include my own cousin) owe their very lives to the fact that Grant is that close. Gotta love seeing the helicopters dispatched for a 6 or 8 block flight, but it's necessary for the survival of the victims.



Having spent some time on the trauma unit and in various long-term sub acute units around town, I have had to question exactly why we save some of these people. People on vents in persistent vegetative states, people missing large portions of their brains... permanently restrained, unable to speak or understand, barely able to see, heavily medicated to prevent self-injury and control the persistent, violent rocking and writhing movements... Why do we do this to people? We save their lives to allow them to live at what quality of life?



When I was a much younger nurse, I was convinced that trauma medicine was the place to be. As an older and more jaded (and perhaps a bit wiser, at least a bit more introspective) nurse, I have to ask myself "why?" I will admit that I have formulated no rational, logical answers. I have come up with no answers at all, to be truthful, but at least the process of examining the practice allows me to be able to sleep at night.



Granted, many people (including my cousin) have been given that "second chance" and go on to live productive lives. Many do not, however. Who is to decide? At what level does the cost out-weigh the benefit, not initially, but long-term? Trauma medicine is a money-losing service in itself... another prohibitively expensive health-care quandary/boondoggle irrespective of any moral, ethical, or ideological considerations. Sort of like cancer care and treatment. Cancer research, however, is a tremendously lucrative venture... ~~digression to be better served at another time, LOL. I will merely close that particular avenue at this point by stating that my jaded, cynical self sees that cancer will never be "cured" as there will be waaaaaaay too much money lost by such a particularly fool-hardy action.

... and two become one...

A relation between hell and heaven: your couple may be a real challenge for you two to make it last. With determination and courage, you can make your relation a joy and a very significant source of evolution for both and remain together for long years. You have very different natures and the adaptation to your partner must be considered before acting and unwillingly hurting the sensitivity of your partner. Think "mobility", "flexibility", "mutual comprehension" and you will in most cases win the challenge of your beautiful love story.


I had to post that little blurb "just because"...

If you peruse this page, you will have long ago noted that my astrological birth chart is posted. As an experiment, I emailed that man who is referred to as significant other/better half/jackass/him who sorely vexes my soul to have him send me the time and the location of his birth. Himbeinghim, ignored the email. Mebeingme, plugged the data as best I could into the program anyway.

The above statement of compatibility is what resulted from that little experiment.

I don't put much stock in horoscopes and astrology, so to speak. At least not as it is practiced by charlatans and is misunderstood by the masses. There was a time when the stars and the planets and the signs they conveyed were recognized and understood.

It was an interesting experiment. The result is accurate. Proves nothing but was fun to do and to read the results. Just to see...

Nine Inch Nails' Ghosts Film Festival - Introduction

Yeah, I'm a bit tardy in getting this posted.... so what else is new... lmao

Just one of those days I suppose...

A couple of days off from work.

Not much on the agenda.

Maybe see the guy.

Haven't decided yet.

My time. My choice.

Angst, Art, and Anarchy

I had originally envisioned this post going to my art blog, but after getting the play-by-play of the season finale (Yes, Virginia, there is a God, and we have been granted a respite.) of Ah-mur-kan Idle, this post definitely needed to find its way to my "angst blog." Definitely.

If you don't know about Plazm, you should.

Check it out. http://plazm.com/

It's going to get a permalink too, I'm thinking...

I do not watch television for a reason. And, as I was getting the scoop on that wretched show referenced above, I am thankful to a merciful God that I do not waste precious and finite fossil fuel resources on television viewing.

At this point, I am tempted to find myself a little villa in Sicily where television and internet access are rare, drink some local wine, and work on my tan. That or go expatriate myself in Los Angeles.

The recount of the TV show has made me feel decidedly unclean. I feel I must watch my illicitly obtained copy of "Broken" in order to restore my sensibilities.

The following is from the inaugural issue of Plazm Magazine.

Declaration of Scene Dependence

Originally published in Plazm #1, page #1, circa 1991

When in the course of the endless stream of eclectic weekend soirees, and grunge rock networking frenzies, it becomes necessary to dissolve the socio politico bands which have connected what we define as scene with what those of other cities, you know the ones, have haphazardly defined as scenes, but in doing so placed constraints on their creativity and manners of self-expression (usually motivated by the hint of the big carrot), and to assume, among the powers of the Earth, the separate and equal stations to which the laws of social interaction, party hopping, and Walt Curtis, entitle them.

We hold these truths to be self evident, that all nihilistic-hippy-entrepreneurial-ararcho-disaffected-forlorn youth spent listening to the fringe of industrial "Baudelaire" music-Kerowackian-just a day job-tartaric espresso drinkers- 3 a.m. the Smiths are playing-your lover's left-it's all too real-sink back into the comfort of sporty mixed drink-mind blasting-too many drug taking-potential rock star-first persons to make millions from Beat Poetry-conspiracy understanders-where does Mondo 2000 get all that money, anyway-Williamette Week thirty second flippers-glorious new age harbingers are created equal, that they are endowed by their creator(s) ((Warhol, Burroughs, and some unheard of French philosopher who has been tapping your dreams, and will soon publish your stream of consciousness to rave reviews)) with certain inalienable rights; life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness (and maybe a good taco, every once in a while).

That the oppression of contemporary mass manipulation has reached such a level as to demand the actions we are taking. Through the realization that this is the moment, and that its integrity is defined by our acceptance of each other, and not by a section in Pulse, a blurb in Spin. That through our endeavors to promote harmonious, well lit, social interaction we will be the catalyst for true global change. The community should be bonded by the common goals of preserving "the ultimate party," and the freedoms that enhance and enable, even bands without talent, to thrive and prosper. The processes of democracy have been assailed long enough, and it is imperative that we, as citizens of the United States, commit every aspect of our lives to assuming the means of production of our own scene, and all the catering, decoration, and guest list responsibilities that are our God given rights. Thus, on this day July, Seventh, Nineteen Hundred and Ninety One, the good citizens of Portland do hereby declare their Scenedependence, and establish the structures of self-government, and open bars, necessary for the operation of a free society.

How forward-sighted was that?

Well, given the lame-assed status quo of 2007, at any rate.

As one who has always done the scene but wasn't necessarily into being seen, I can seriously appreciate the spirit with which that piece was inspired.

Popular culture is the enemy of thought, freedom, and expression.

There have always been many pretentions and poseurs and pseudo-angst as suitable sideshow fodder to any scene.... Oh, I really don't want to go there now, do I. Perhaps another time.

Adobe Magazine has been reborn in an online format. I mention this due to its current-issue connection with Plazm. (You'll just have to find out for yourself). Also because it is a worthwhile publication, and I am glad to see the phoenix rise from the ashes.

I'm off to go a-knitting now. Rest assured, this isn't your grandma's idea of knitting....