I find it unsettling to see people partying and shouting, “America is number one!” in reaction to Osama bin Laden’s death. Not that I sympathize with the man, but it’s just not what I would feel if, say, Curt were murdered and his murderer were being put to death. I might feel satisfaction, I might still feel rage, but I don’t know if I would feel joy. It seems an inapt emotional reaction; unhinged, like.
Dear San Diego Zoo and sundry,
You are great, etc., etc., but let me get to the good part: what is Swahili for “pretentious”?
I only ask because it seems to me that many of your baby animals are given the burden of some, shall we say, very “lofty” names to live up to. I am sure that if we were to catalog said animal names in your establishments and translate them into English, “peace”, “love”, “courage”, or “walks in beauty like the night” would have ample representation.
Do you not think this is slightly daunting prospect for baby animals who would spend most of their lives – let’s be honest – rooting around in the dirt?
Imagine the outrage, if you will, of having to stand outside of that hippo enclosure and look into that baby hippo’s sorrowful eyes and whisper, “I am sorry that your keepers are so silly, little hippo. I would have named you Bob.”
Upset,
Etc.
…take three!
I stayed up until 4:00 AM watching it on Saturday, spent another five hours finishing it on Sunday to finish it the first time ’round, then started it all over again to finish it around 9:00 PM.
And I’ve started it again. I don’t think I’ve enjoyed a show so much since…well…a long time. :)
Today, I was introduced to the concept of “Snooki”. I pronounced her wrong. I would have spelled her wrong, had it not been for Yahoo’s handy-dandy “TRENDING NOW” list. Somehow, with all the madness going on in the world right now, Snooki comes in at number THREE on that list, behind Alyssa Milano (having a baby) and Eminem (didn’t read it, but imagine he’s…old? sober? retiring again? has had a thought?). Mrr.
We’re going to Washington DC in a couple months. Curt wrote an angry (but respectful) letter to our congressman about the lack of support for Libyan democracy in the same two-week period in which I sent a request to him about touring the White House. I expect to not get to tour the White House (they take your name and vitals, you know).
I bought a small bird feeder, and have attracted house finches to our crape myrtle tree. They have also found the enormous bird feeder which sits next to my window. I can hear them singing at night (right now, as a matter of fact). There is also an owl hereabouts. Thus, my room has become a vampire peep show for cats.
I am enjoying the new rendition of Emma immensely. It is probably my most favorite Austen film to date. I watch it in fits and starts, because I don’t want it to end.
Everything is okay here. Time for bed.
We went to the air museum today. Curt geeked out on planes. :)
I also got a new phone, and I’m divorcing my iPod Touch.
To me, the graphical interface and flexibility of Android is far superior. The apps are better, I can do multiple things at once, the battery is awesome and OMFG, I can turn off the stupid auto-flip feature!
The one gripe I have (so far) is the email client doesn’t wrap content so I have to scroll horizontally to view stuff. Other than that, and despite my recently-established dislike for Chrome, I’d say Google and LG FTW!
(I’m blogging this from my new phone; something I never got to work on my iPod.)
“I for one welcome our new computer overlords.” Ken Jennings FTW!
Watson will be useful in some capacity, although some questions (Tuesday night’s, especially) were clearly shilling for Watson’s uber-Google capabilities.
Three dreams:
1. I dream I am on Top Chef. Padma Lakshmi is following me as I cook, and sneering (as she is wont to do) at my method. After a couple minutes of this treatment, I look up from my plating and say, “You know what? I don’t care if you kick me off the show – you’re an f’ing bitch!” And it felt good, because I can’t stand her. Every time she opens her mouth, I want to kick her face in.
2. I’m married to Patrick Dempsey, but cheating on him with Henry Francis, the ex-Mrs. Draper’s new Mister in Mad Men. We’re saving the world, but it doesn’t work out. And, on top of everything else, a Jewish soothsayer tells me I’m pregnant. Is it Henry’s?! Is it Patrick’s?!
3. I’m on a fishing trip with my dad. I feel bad for fishing. I feel even worse when he lifts a cleaver into the air and cuts off the fish’s head, splashing fish innards all over me. In the dream, I look down at myself, horrified for at least a minute before my subconscious self cannot take the idea of fish innards, and I bolt awake, gasping in terror. Fish innards FTL…
I’m stressed out, tired, and the house is a mess, but all else is well!
We saw the Coen brothers’ True Grit. I was not entirely happy with the ending, so I bought the book. The book is, for the most part, almost exactly like the movie (or, rather, vice versa). ***POSSIBLE SPOILER*** After some consideration, I concede it couldn’t have ended satisfactorily any other way; too much happiness ruins a good story.
***ANTISPOILER*** Not that the ending is unhappy. There are unicorns!
I’m about halfway through The Iliad now. The catalogue of who dies and at whose hand is both satisfying in its neatness, and extremely dull. I am enjoying it, in the slow way people enjoy things like sloths, and bird-watching, and Lawrence of Arabia.
I find myself sympathizing with the Trojans; particularly Hector. His brother is an ass, his city is under siege by asses, and the gods which rule his fate are asses. ***POSSIBLE SPOILER*** I have seen the sculpted sarcophagus bearing his fate at the Getty Villa; I know things don’t work out for him. Ah, Hector, Hector…the deaths of a thousand Orlando Blooms and a hundred Brad Pitts would not be enough to avenge you!
Anyway, I’m telling myself things get better with The Odyssey.