Sunday Hate Read

Drs. Oz and Roizen.  Five or six paragraphs of the glibbest horseshit imaginable, chock-full of self-serving buzzwords and useless advice.  The fact that they might actually be right just makes it that much worse.  I hate doctors for lots of reasons, but their healthier-than-thou attitude and patronizing over-familiarity are pretty high on the list.  Fuck the both of them.  It's their fault my blood pressure is so high.

One of these days I'm going to get organized...

I'll have everything I need packed neatly in one box.  And then they'll bury me.

A little pretentious,




a little gratuitous...

Equals art?

Wild Rose on Nowness.com

But is it really gratuitous if the nudity is the entire point?




Personal Soundtrack

I don't know how much it really applies to me, but my life seemed to make more sense after I heard this:

I often say...

...that I do the best I can--that I've done the best I could. But I don't know how often it's actually true. How many times have I completely exhausted myself physically and emotionally? Done everything that was physically and metaphysically possible in a given circumstance?

And of all the times that I've done less--when I've been too tired, too depressed, too hopeless to do any more than I have--how many of those have been due to circumstances beyond my control? Given the same set of mental and physical circumstances how many people could have done better?

I mean, I know I'm lazy. I'm just not sure how lazy...

There's not usually anything worthwhile in internet comments...

...but I'm charmed by Diamond Godde$$!!!'s description of Hayden Panettiere as a "tiny linebacker."

Though I don't necessarily agree with her assessment...

"latent ravening ferocity"

"...as if they got from his latent ravening ferocity not so much a sense of dependability as a feeling that his ferocious conviction in the rightness of his own actions would be of advantage to all whose interest lay with his..."

"the one weapon for the preservation of integrity, else breath were not worth the breathing, and hence to be regarded with respect and used with discretion"

Somewhere on my journey from angry young man to bitter old man confused and middle aged.  I found a lesson in this story: the idea that a bottomless rage might be controlled, carried around and used judiciously as a weapon.  I'm not sure it's actually something I've been able to apply to my life with any success, but it's at least seemed like a possibility at times when I didn't see a lot of possibilities.

The fairest way to look at it...

...is probably that it's not necessarily all my fault.  But that it's not entirely within my control, either.

It's like I always say...

...I'm not trying to be an asshole.

But I'm willing to be.

All I want...

...is for everything to be perfect and nothing to ever change.

Is that so much to ask?