Not Now, Natalie.

Perhaps the world's second worst crime is boredom. The first is being a bore.

Didon on Gingrich

This inclination toward the pointlessly specific (we have here a man who once estimated the odds on the survival of his second marriage at “53 to 47”) is coupled with a tic to inflate what is actually specific into a general principle, a big concept. The cherry blossoms in Washington, he advised his constituents in 1984, remind us that “there’s a rhythm and cycle to life. Winter goes and spring comes.” Forrest Gump became for Mr. Gingrich “a reaffirmation that the counterculture destroys human beings and basic values.” That Star Wars made more money than The Right Stuff instructs us that “we have allowed bureaucracies to dominate too many of our scientific adventures.” In the absence of anything specific to either seize or inflate, he tends to spin perilously out of syntactical orbit:

…I think if you will consider for a second—and this is part of why I wanted to pick up on the concept of “virtualness”—if you think about the notion that the great challenge of our lifetime is first to imagine a future that is worth spending our lives getting to, then because of the technologies and the capabilities we have today to get it up to sort of a virtual state, whether that’s done in terms of actual levels of sophistication or whether it’s just done in your mind, most studies of leadership argue that leaders actually are acting out past decisions, that part of the reason you get certainty in great leaders is that they have already thoroughly envisioned the achievement and now it’s just a matter of implementation. And so it’s very different. So in a sense, virtuality at the mental level is something I think you’d find in most leadership over historical periods.

Paul Wilson

“Children: Future!”  2012
Oil Pastel Effect Over iPhone digital image

Paul Wilson

“Children: Future!” 2012
Oil Pastel Effect Over iPhone digital image

agenda for the day:

1) wake up, coffee, talk to the cats.
2) get ready for Chinese buffet, talk to cats.
3) sit at moms house, watch sports games for hours on end.

Tom Wolfe’s tenets of New Journalism includes “status life,” which is “the entire pattern of behavior and possessions through which people express their position in the world, or what they think it is, or what they hope it to be,” which I can think/say/write verbatim after teaching an infinity number of Creative Journalism classes (the only other thing I can do that for is one Philip Larkin poem and the word “antidisestablishmentarianism,” which every annoying piece-of-turd kid is going to have down). If you are like me and are over-attuned to the meaning of things, then you’ll be relieved to know that staying in is totally exempt from status life and its cultural superstructure, which is “status culture.” This is because everyone’s primo stay-at-home clothes have nothing to do with their other stuff and all its signs and symbols. My favorite jammies are a pair of waffle long-underwear I got at a discount store called Giant Tiger that only exists in the worst Canadian towns and cities, and a top that my brother used to ski in. See? It’s like in high school when clothes were essentially communal and I want to cry just thinking about how much I want that back, and not just when I am shuffling between bed and the bathtub.

—Kate Carraway, Girls and Staying In.  See also:  Georg Simmel’s 190whatever essay, “Fashion”

guess I’ll go back to posting photos of cats now.

This slot machine is sitting on my mothers kitchen table.  My brother bought it (???) for her.  It’s broken.  Someone (not me) put a weird Lazertron token inside and we don’t have the key to hit reset.  Poor mom.

This slot machine is sitting on my mothers kitchen table. My brother bought it (???) for her. It’s broken. Someone (not me) put a weird Lazertron token inside and we don’t have the key to hit reset. Poor mom.