floorpie

That’s me

Holy shit-dog this is scary! (and, yes, I really do say “shit-dog” for some strange reason. Remind me to tell you all the other stuff I say that I always thought everyone else did…which is fine, of course…except for how they don’t).

At any rate, my one great fear is clowns (are clowns?), and adding a dentist to that is just cruel.

via dave

What follows is entirely self-serving schlock, not to be read by those with sensitivity or an overall world view. You have been warned.

I think I started to realize that I was getting older (I use not the word “old”, so as not to offend those more aged than I), when kids (and I don’t mean “kids” in the sense that I still feel like a kid and stubbornly try never to refer to myself as an adult. I mean “kids” in the actual meaning of the word: little, little people with a scant few years of life under their belts [should they be moved to even wear one]) really started to seriously ignore me. Early in life, any random group of children playing Freeze Tag was always a welcome sight, whether they be your crew, or complete strangers. As you get older, though, less and less of these groups yell to you to join them if they are one short. Eventually, your only refuge is basketball, where almost no matter what your age, you can still join a game (with the understanding that you will never again play in a game comprised of more than 64% of actual kids).

At any rate, I’ve now reached that age, sadly, where I am completely ignored by actual kids. Those playing hide-n-go-seek run blithely around me as if I were a tree, or more correctly, an uninteresting pile of flesh. Where the older of us, when having a conversation with a companion, will lower our voices or cease our conversation all together when a stranger happens near, kids go right on talking around me, allowing me to eavesdrop on lamentations about girls, soliloquies about video games, or veritable sonnets composed entirely on the shortcomings of homework. This occurs simply for the reason that: I. do. not. exist.

What, then, is my point? Am I asking you to feel sympathy for me as I transition into the age of misplaced hair, excess waist, and slowed reflexes? In short, yes. My birthday is within spitting distance, and, instead of feeling sorry for myself, I intend to let you feel sorry for me. I suggest you assuage your painful pity for me by buying me gifts. I shall give you an easy to follow link here, and also direct you to the same wishlist link on the right for future reference.

Good luck brave scouts.

As near as I can figure, the next generation of kids are going to be super-geniuses. This, of course, is good news. All the worlds problems are undoubtedly within 10-15 years of being solved, and solved cleverly. Food shortages will be a thing of the past with the advent of never-ending gobstoppers the likes of which Charlie never dreamed of. Inflatable tortillas will stop up the gaps in the ozone layer. Oil and water droughts will be solved with their systematic replacement with Tang. There will be peace on earth and good will towards men.

That is, at least, judging by all the my-kid�s-an-honor-student-at-dorkington-middle-school bumper stickers I�ve been seeing everywhere. Everyone and their mother (literally) has one of these nowadays. Seriously, are they giving things out with coupons to Denny�s?! Ever the optimist (har-de-har-har), I intend to believe that this glut of advertising is due to an unprecedented increase in intelligence rather than a lowering of expectations.

There’s something about this I find disturbing.

OK, I find all of it disturbing.

[editor’s note] I had intended to expand this post into a little diatribe about why Americans are so fat; but, I came up short while searching the Net with the all-encompassing keywords of “fat Americans”. Instead, I found an interesting article stating that, although our eating habits contribute to our overall rotundness, the main cause is suburban sprawl! The reason being, sprawl leads to dependence on cars, which leads to us driving our fat asses to the corner Wienershnitzel for the double chili-dog, instead of walking:

Public health experts have solved the mystery of why Americans have become the planet’s fattest people. Decades of uncontrolled suburban sprawl, they say, based on car travel, have left Americans unable to walk even if they want to.

I think Meg said it best:

It was like something out of a Gabriel Garcia Marquez novel–we fell in love when the butterflies were mating. I drove home between fields of corn, and hundreds of yellow butterflies chased one another across the road. The setting was idyllic, the relationship proved less so. He was an entrepreneur without a lot of extra time for romance, I was too young to be thinking about happily ever after. A year later, I was upset, and disappointed, and ready to call it quits. Driving home one night, I realized the butterflies were mating again. I smiled and watched two of them dance around each other. Then they hit my windshield.

As of this writing, 138,146 people have donated over $5 million to the Amazon Red Cross Disaster Relief Fund. It’s a good idea any time, but perhaps more so now. Every dollar counts, and, tell your friends…

At work:

Guy: Did you get the flag for the building?

Dude: No, I wasn’t able to.

Guy: What do you mean?!

Dude: Everyone was sold out!

Guy: Did you try that place?

Dude: Yeah, I went to three other places, too. There’s been a run on flags everywhere.

Guy: Hmmmm…

It’s hard to be annoyed with overwhelmingly patriotism.

So it’s the morning after and incredulity has been replaced by fatigue.

There was an interesting discussion on the radio yesterday. The topic was: Should this all result in Americans going to war as the attack on Pearl Harbor did, whether or not my generation has the fortitude to embark on such an endeavor as the WWII guys did. Judging by how tired I am from just watching, one can’t help thinking that we do not.

In the same breath, though, look at the bravery and the tireless efforts of the rescue workers, look at the thousands of people country-wide to donate blood, look at the outporing of compassion for strangers never met, and look at the resolve of a nation that by all rights could crumble down into despair. We are a nation of survivors, and I believe we have the mettle to pass this test.

Some amazing scenes from today’s horrific events (via kottke):

– eyewitness video of 2nd plane crashing into WTC (mirror1, mirror2, mirror3, mirror4, mirror5, mirror6)

– time lapse of towers collapsing (mirror1, mirror2)

– photo of plane just before it hit WTC