born into this mess
Sunday, October 31, 2004
when you sleep
I sleep aligned with the cardinal directions, feet to the north, head to the south. I fall asleep facing west and wake up looking east.
Even in the height of summer I have to sleep under the weight of deep blankets, as if I might somehow float away into the choking black up above the air. a feather comforter and two blankets.
I sleep with the air conditioner running and the radio set on static. I lie awake for what feels like hours, feeling like I am about to drown, before I fall asleep, and wake up 3 or 4 times during the night to get water and go to the bathroom.
Tachi used to sleep on my pillow or in my arms, but since his foster sister Miss Djax likes to pounce him in our sleep, he has taken to sleeping on the chest by the door.
I sleep with two bears and Sully from Monsters, Inc. I have complicated and anxious dreams about looking for someone or losing things I treasure, Kafka dreams, from which I wake exhausted and alone.
I hold onto my hair so that in the morning I appear to have one of those faux-hawks so popular with suburban teenagers, curled up into a ball, tangled in the sheets.
quite often the thought of getting out of bed is more than I can bear. harder than the idea of the rest of my life being nothing more than this.
|
I sleep aligned with the cardinal directions, feet to the north, head to the south. I fall asleep facing west and wake up looking east.
Even in the height of summer I have to sleep under the weight of deep blankets, as if I might somehow float away into the choking black up above the air. a feather comforter and two blankets.
I sleep with the air conditioner running and the radio set on static. I lie awake for what feels like hours, feeling like I am about to drown, before I fall asleep, and wake up 3 or 4 times during the night to get water and go to the bathroom.
Tachi used to sleep on my pillow or in my arms, but since his foster sister Miss Djax likes to pounce him in our sleep, he has taken to sleeping on the chest by the door.
I sleep with two bears and Sully from Monsters, Inc. I have complicated and anxious dreams about looking for someone or losing things I treasure, Kafka dreams, from which I wake exhausted and alone.
I hold onto my hair so that in the morning I appear to have one of those faux-hawks so popular with suburban teenagers, curled up into a ball, tangled in the sheets.
quite often the thought of getting out of bed is more than I can bear. harder than the idea of the rest of my life being nothing more than this.
Friday, October 29, 2004
|
Thursday, October 28, 2004
back to it
I think if I were any more productive today the world would lose its inertia. I went to my therapist, wrote about a million emails, went to new patient orientation at the Church Health Center, read most of the willow tree over at Decleyre, had falafel and bought groceries, tutored some in spanish, ate dinner, came home, only spent 30 minutes on computer, washed all of my dishes, stocked up cleaning products for big day tomorrow, made 3 sushi rolls (smoked salmon, avocado, brown rice) for lunch tomorrow, and vacuumed. bedtime.
I have 2 houses tomorrow, one of which is the fabulous Tim Pierce's store and his apt. SOOO excited. got headphones, tapes (interpol, against me, neutral milk, pipe bomb, yeah yeah yeahs), batteries charged, some rags, paper towels. thrilled.
must make myself sleep now. havent slept well in a few days. relying on benadryl kava combo for tonight.
if I get any more excited about saturday night dressup and festivities I will throw up.
holla!
love
slue foot sue
|
I think if I were any more productive today the world would lose its inertia. I went to my therapist, wrote about a million emails, went to new patient orientation at the Church Health Center, read most of the willow tree over at Decleyre, had falafel and bought groceries, tutored some in spanish, ate dinner, came home, only spent 30 minutes on computer, washed all of my dishes, stocked up cleaning products for big day tomorrow, made 3 sushi rolls (smoked salmon, avocado, brown rice) for lunch tomorrow, and vacuumed. bedtime.
I have 2 houses tomorrow, one of which is the fabulous Tim Pierce's store and his apt. SOOO excited. got headphones, tapes (interpol, against me, neutral milk, pipe bomb, yeah yeah yeahs), batteries charged, some rags, paper towels. thrilled.
must make myself sleep now. havent slept well in a few days. relying on benadryl kava combo for tonight.
if I get any more excited about saturday night dressup and festivities I will throw up.
holla!
love
slue foot sue
lofuckingl
"A week ago, we sent you an email asking for help debunking anti-Bush
documents. After receiving hundreds of responses, it become clear that
all the documents were actually real: the Bush/Cheney DUIs, the Ken Lay
letters, and even the bin Laden memo. For more information visit the
documents page:
http://www.yesbushcan.com/falsedocs.shtml
We also received hundreds of emails from concerned bloggers that
eloquently expressed the problems with the Bush administration. And as
we traveled across America campaigning for Bush, we learned more than
we wanted to know about Bush's policies. We came to see that this
administration is a catastrophe for most people.
As a result, we are abandoning our support of Bush and officially
endorsing John Kerry for President. You can read more at the Yes Bush Can web site:
http://www.yesbushcan.com/
We deeply regret our misguided support and apologize for our previous
email. This will be the last email we will send directly to bloggers.
If you want to join us in supporting Kerry, you can find out more here:
http://www.yesbushcan.com/act.shtml
Thank you for your understanding,
Yes Bush Can "
|
documents. After receiving hundreds of responses, it become clear that
all the documents were actually real: the Bush/Cheney DUIs, the Ken Lay
letters, and even the bin Laden memo. For more information visit the
documents page:
http://www.yesbushcan.com/falsedocs.shtml
We also received hundreds of emails from concerned bloggers that
eloquently expressed the problems with the Bush administration. And as
we traveled across America campaigning for Bush, we learned more than
we wanted to know about Bush's policies. We came to see that this
administration is a catastrophe for most people.
As a result, we are abandoning our support of Bush and officially
endorsing John Kerry for President. You can read more at the Yes Bush Can web site:
http://www.yesbushcan.com/
We deeply regret our misguided support and apologize for our previous
email. This will be the last email we will send directly to bloggers.
If you want to join us in supporting Kerry, you can find out more here:
http://www.yesbushcan.com/act.shtml
Thank you for your understanding,
Yes Bush Can "
thoughts over breakfast
1. I love Tachi so much it makes my stomach hurt.
2. I feel irrationally like Miss Piggy in the pigs in space sketch.
3. Why is Vegenaise so fucking good?
4. Hummus is good on a fried egg sandwich.
5. Remember that story about Jesus cursing the fig tree? If I had my powers back i would be cursing everything LOUD this morning. ShaZAP! take that, craptastically loud jackhammering utility truck in front of my house! herrBLIP! shut the fuck up, stupid smoke alarm! it's just toast, and it's not even burning! (small nudge) PK and TRIP, stop barking!
6. Hee hee.
7. Barkeeper's Friend scrub powder is biodegradeable and not tested on aminals. and I spelled it like that on purpose.
8. I want Will Oldham delivered to me in chains to be my personal troubadour.
9. HA HA.
10. Boy howdy, this sandwich is good.
love!
slue foot Sue
|
1. I love Tachi so much it makes my stomach hurt.
2. I feel irrationally like Miss Piggy in the pigs in space sketch.
3. Why is Vegenaise so fucking good?
4. Hummus is good on a fried egg sandwich.
5. Remember that story about Jesus cursing the fig tree? If I had my powers back i would be cursing everything LOUD this morning. ShaZAP! take that, craptastically loud jackhammering utility truck in front of my house! herrBLIP! shut the fuck up, stupid smoke alarm! it's just toast, and it's not even burning! (small nudge) PK and TRIP, stop barking!
6. Hee hee.
7. Barkeeper's Friend scrub powder is biodegradeable and not tested on aminals. and I spelled it like that on purpose.
8. I want Will Oldham delivered to me in chains to be my personal troubadour.
9. HA HA.
10. Boy howdy, this sandwich is good.
love!
slue foot Sue
Wednesday, October 27, 2004
ooh child, things are gonna get easier...
earlier today, towards the end of the rain, i was sitting out under the carport at my old house, the decleyre cooperative, sitting on the couch with my friend cale and there was this neat little pile of green tomatoes somebody had picked from out of the garden and the cats were all prowling in and out of the rain and then it had mostly dried up and i was feeling a bit hyper and was like, hey, i really want to squish a tomato on my fingers, and cale's all, do it, and it felt great, and so then i was all, dude, i'm gonna hit amiga with a tomato. and then i was just throwing tomatoes at the cats and at the ground and at pumpkins and windchimes and man i was a tomato throwing machine and i know somebody probably was going to make something out of them but they were just irresistable the way they splattered or made the cats jump and give me dirty looks.
and yeah i totally cut and pasted this out of an email i was writing pecos bill, (dont tell anyone, penpal!), but hey, i'm feeling better, and i have things to do.
oh, and i went to see a woman from Justicia para Nuestras Hijas, whose daughter was disappeared in May 13, 2003 in Juarez, part of terrifying number of young women who have been disappeared or murdered in the last ten years, and the goverment is covering it up and it's absolutely terrifying, so expect something about it tomorrow when I have time to write.
off to bed to finish the noonday demon and read some chinese fairy tales lent to me by the lovely Penelope.
holla,
love and please stop worrying about me mom and dad I am feeling much better and I ate 4 times today even if I didnt wash the dishes,
Slue Foot Sue
|
earlier today, towards the end of the rain, i was sitting out under the carport at my old house, the decleyre cooperative, sitting on the couch with my friend cale and there was this neat little pile of green tomatoes somebody had picked from out of the garden and the cats were all prowling in and out of the rain and then it had mostly dried up and i was feeling a bit hyper and was like, hey, i really want to squish a tomato on my fingers, and cale's all, do it, and it felt great, and so then i was all, dude, i'm gonna hit amiga with a tomato. and then i was just throwing tomatoes at the cats and at the ground and at pumpkins and windchimes and man i was a tomato throwing machine and i know somebody probably was going to make something out of them but they were just irresistable the way they splattered or made the cats jump and give me dirty looks.
and yeah i totally cut and pasted this out of an email i was writing pecos bill, (dont tell anyone, penpal!), but hey, i'm feeling better, and i have things to do.
oh, and i went to see a woman from Justicia para Nuestras Hijas, whose daughter was disappeared in May 13, 2003 in Juarez, part of terrifying number of young women who have been disappeared or murdered in the last ten years, and the goverment is covering it up and it's absolutely terrifying, so expect something about it tomorrow when I have time to write.
off to bed to finish the noonday demon and read some chinese fairy tales lent to me by the lovely Penelope.
holla,
love and please stop worrying about me mom and dad I am feeling much better and I ate 4 times today even if I didnt wash the dishes,
Slue Foot Sue
Monday, October 25, 2004
it's more the feeling of it all
always, always, I speak too soon.
I wake up exhausted and unable to breathe and sit in the bathtub staring at the ceiling, half-floating, feeling like Ophelia, "one incapable of her own distress," feeling like Titus' daughter Lavinia, who "hath no tongue to call, nor hands to wash..."
I'm quitting MCI and going back to cleaning. I asked Candace pretty please and she said yes, and so maybe in a week or so when the money runs out I'll start cleaning again. I still have all the all natural cleaning supplies, all I need, I think, is a mop.
this is horrible, and it is scary and I don't know how much longer I can keep it up, but I think cleaning again will help.
something has to help.
|
always, always, I speak too soon.
I wake up exhausted and unable to breathe and sit in the bathtub staring at the ceiling, half-floating, feeling like Ophelia, "one incapable of her own distress," feeling like Titus' daughter Lavinia, who "hath no tongue to call, nor hands to wash..."
I'm quitting MCI and going back to cleaning. I asked Candace pretty please and she said yes, and so maybe in a week or so when the money runs out I'll start cleaning again. I still have all the all natural cleaning supplies, all I need, I think, is a mop.
this is horrible, and it is scary and I don't know how much longer I can keep it up, but I think cleaning again will help.
something has to help.
Friday, October 22, 2004
take that, world!
I'm at my parents' printing out the ADA just in case HR gives me any flack about missing 3 days this week. Hopefully the HR director got the letter my pill doctor faxed her.
but on the whole, things are better. I'm a but tired, feel a bit beat-up, but hell, it's Friday, I gave myself a rocking mullet (80s style, very short with long bits in the back), and things are better.
so come on world, is that the best you can do?
bring it on, MF!
holla.
|
|
I'm at my parents' printing out the ADA just in case HR gives me any flack about missing 3 days this week. Hopefully the HR director got the letter my pill doctor faxed her.
but on the whole, things are better. I'm a but tired, feel a bit beat-up, but hell, it's Friday, I gave myself a rocking mullet (80s style, very short with long bits in the back), and things are better.
so come on world, is that the best you can do?
bring it on, MF!
holla.
Thursday, October 21, 2004
Signs and symptoms of depression (or a depressive episode) include:
Lasting sad, anxious, or empty mood
Feelings of hopelessness or pessimism
Feelings of guilt, worthlessness, or helplessness
Loss of interest or pleasure in activities once enjoyed, including sex
Decreased energy, a feeling of fatigue or of being "slowed down"
Difficulty concentrating, remembering, making decisions
Restlessness or irritability
Sleeping too much, or can't sleep
Change in appetite and/or unintended weight loss or gain
Chronic pain or other persistent bodily symptoms that are not caused by physical illness or injury
Thoughts of death or suicide, or suicide attempts
A depressive episode is diagnosed if five or more of these symptoms last most of the day, nearly every day, for a period of 2 weeks or longer.
let me tell you something. these asshats don't have any fucking clue. look at them trying to define this. 5 or more symptoms for TWO FUCKING WEEKS! no wonder we have such a high suicide rate. no one takes us seriously. this isn't like, oh my grandma died and I'm sad. this isn't the passing of Binky the gerbil or even getting dumped by your fiance for another girl. this is sheer unadulterated DREAD. this is being afraid of my face in the mirror, afraid to get up and pee during the night because of what might be hiding behind the shower curtain.
look at this dippy bullshit:
you want to know what it really is like?
so fuck you, nimh. even your rats hate you.
I'm glad I have finally found a decent, kind doctor. I called in again today, and have spent awhile reading the Americans with Diabilities Act, with which MCI ought to be very familiar. As far as I can tell, reasonable accomodation DOES mean allowing extra unpaid leave and require that my job be held for me. My HR rep called me back earlier and said that so far my job wasn't in any danger. as soon as she gets the letter Dr Smith sent over, if she gets it, I need to talk to her about this. because it isn't something I am able to predict.
bah bah bah.
all quotations in italics and graphics stolen from the national institute of mental health website which is apparently copyright 2001.
|
Lasting sad, anxious, or empty mood
Feelings of hopelessness or pessimism
Feelings of guilt, worthlessness, or helplessness
Loss of interest or pleasure in activities once enjoyed, including sex
Decreased energy, a feeling of fatigue or of being "slowed down"
Difficulty concentrating, remembering, making decisions
Restlessness or irritability
Sleeping too much, or can't sleep
Change in appetite and/or unintended weight loss or gain
Chronic pain or other persistent bodily symptoms that are not caused by physical illness or injury
Thoughts of death or suicide, or suicide attempts
A depressive episode is diagnosed if five or more of these symptoms last most of the day, nearly every day, for a period of 2 weeks or longer.
let me tell you something. these asshats don't have any fucking clue. look at them trying to define this. 5 or more symptoms for TWO FUCKING WEEKS! no wonder we have such a high suicide rate. no one takes us seriously. this isn't like, oh my grandma died and I'm sad. this isn't the passing of Binky the gerbil or even getting dumped by your fiance for another girl. this is sheer unadulterated DREAD. this is being afraid of my face in the mirror, afraid to get up and pee during the night because of what might be hiding behind the shower curtain.
look at this dippy bullshit:
you want to know what it really is like?
so fuck you, nimh. even your rats hate you.
I'm glad I have finally found a decent, kind doctor. I called in again today, and have spent awhile reading the Americans with Diabilities Act, with which MCI ought to be very familiar. As far as I can tell, reasonable accomodation DOES mean allowing extra unpaid leave and require that my job be held for me. My HR rep called me back earlier and said that so far my job wasn't in any danger. as soon as she gets the letter Dr Smith sent over, if she gets it, I need to talk to her about this. because it isn't something I am able to predict.
bah bah bah.
all quotations in italics and graphics stolen from the national institute of mental health website which is apparently copyright 2001.
Wednesday, October 20, 2004
there's the fucking rub, all right
I sopke to soon. I am nowhere near out of this. I barely made it through work today. then right before I left my supervisor pulled me aside to let me know what i have gotten to level 2 out of 4 of warnings before I get fired, so basically I can be absent one more time in the next 30 days without losing my job. I guess I'll get a letter from the Pill Doctor and see if that helps, but I'm not sure what the ADA's "reasonable accomodation" is exactly in my situation. I'm starting to not really care. It's hard enough to get out of bed and leave my apartment right now.
I think this is definitely what could be called "the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune." and it sucks, because I still feel horribly guilty for feeling this way, still, after all these years, I still hate myself for being weak, and whiny, and scared.
but I am scared. I'm very very scared and I don't really know what to do, how to push this back under the bed and keep it contained. I guess there's nothing to do but wait for the pills to kick in, but 3 weeks to a month is a really long time when an hour feels like sand rubbed into a sunburn.
to sleep?
doesn't sound so bad, really. but Hamlet's right, it's the dreams that give us pause, end of heart-aches or no.
i just want something i can never have...
|
I sopke to soon. I am nowhere near out of this. I barely made it through work today. then right before I left my supervisor pulled me aside to let me know what i have gotten to level 2 out of 4 of warnings before I get fired, so basically I can be absent one more time in the next 30 days without losing my job. I guess I'll get a letter from the Pill Doctor and see if that helps, but I'm not sure what the ADA's "reasonable accomodation" is exactly in my situation. I'm starting to not really care. It's hard enough to get out of bed and leave my apartment right now.
I think this is definitely what could be called "the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune." and it sucks, because I still feel horribly guilty for feeling this way, still, after all these years, I still hate myself for being weak, and whiny, and scared.
but I am scared. I'm very very scared and I don't really know what to do, how to push this back under the bed and keep it contained. I guess there's nothing to do but wait for the pills to kick in, but 3 weeks to a month is a really long time when an hour feels like sand rubbed into a sunburn.
to sleep?
doesn't sound so bad, really. but Hamlet's right, it's the dreams that give us pause, end of heart-aches or no.
i just want something i can never have...
there's a white light coming up; draw the blinds hoping it'll pass
the fever has broken, the mirror shards miraculously fly up from the floor and backwards in time to reunite and show me my face again.
tell me, i demand of myself, the one who watches me swim and out of her window, can you see the future? are all mirrors the same, and are they connected? can the truth wound me, or does it beat against the glass like a bird drunk on late summer's fermenting berries, unable to see?
hen will i cease to come unstuck in time? when will the long plunge into the darkness be truly behind me, instead of lapping at my heels like rain seeping in under the front door?
when will i be prepared? how will i know to stock the larders and pile the firewood high against the coming siege?
my mirror-self has no answers and watches me with no compassion.
and so we wait together, she behind her glass and i behind mine.
|
the fever has broken, the mirror shards miraculously fly up from the floor and backwards in time to reunite and show me my face again.
tell me, i demand of myself, the one who watches me swim and out of her window, can you see the future? are all mirrors the same, and are they connected? can the truth wound me, or does it beat against the glass like a bird drunk on late summer's fermenting berries, unable to see?
hen will i cease to come unstuck in time? when will the long plunge into the darkness be truly behind me, instead of lapping at my heels like rain seeping in under the front door?
when will i be prepared? how will i know to stock the larders and pile the firewood high against the coming siege?
my mirror-self has no answers and watches me with no compassion.
and so we wait together, she behind her glass and i behind mine.
Tuesday, October 19, 2004
et le temps m'engloutit, minute par minute
I'm about 115 pages into the time traveler's wife, and as groggy as I am from the Seroquel, which I shouldnt have taken at 4, I keep stopping and looking up to stare at the cracks in the ceiling paint or the dents where nailheads live in the drywall.
Manic depression is a lot like time travel. I guess that's why I always loved Breakfast of Champions so much. I feel like I'm being forced to relive the same 8 days over and over, each time a little older and with a little more knowledge about the outcome, but then again, it's more like being wrenched out of my own age and crammed back into my 15 year old self, lying prone on the floor in my room, headphones on, listening to Robert Smtih sing about drowning and about hope.
At certain times in the year it as if all of my selves, one of me from the age of 13 to now, have jumped simultaneously into my brain. At these times the general mild grade depression is multiplied exponentially by the number of times I have relived this particular moment. And voila, a major depressive episode.
Third week of October. Between my birthday and the 3rd week of January. Valentine s Day. June. July. So much of the year, that if I were to blacken out the days on a calendar, the remaining days would scarecely fill up February.
No wonder I am so consumed by nostalgia for the few good days I have had. They're the ones I only have a single chance to get right.
|
I'm about 115 pages into the time traveler's wife, and as groggy as I am from the Seroquel, which I shouldnt have taken at 4, I keep stopping and looking up to stare at the cracks in the ceiling paint or the dents where nailheads live in the drywall.
Manic depression is a lot like time travel. I guess that's why I always loved Breakfast of Champions so much. I feel like I'm being forced to relive the same 8 days over and over, each time a little older and with a little more knowledge about the outcome, but then again, it's more like being wrenched out of my own age and crammed back into my 15 year old self, lying prone on the floor in my room, headphones on, listening to Robert Smtih sing about drowning and about hope.
At certain times in the year it as if all of my selves, one of me from the age of 13 to now, have jumped simultaneously into my brain. At these times the general mild grade depression is multiplied exponentially by the number of times I have relived this particular moment. And voila, a major depressive episode.
Third week of October. Between my birthday and the 3rd week of January. Valentine s Day. June. July. So much of the year, that if I were to blacken out the days on a calendar, the remaining days would scarecely fill up February.
No wonder I am so consumed by nostalgia for the few good days I have had. They're the ones I only have a single chance to get right.
Monday, October 18, 2004
not to mention that I have confirmed the presence of Side Effects: itching, rash, blotches, skin feels like sunburn, so the wonder med is officially being discontinued. if fucking Dr Smith would call me back I could tell him, but HA right.
|
looking for heavy rocks
I just got back from watching the Hours over at Pony's. I think that movie, along with Donnie Darko, might be the most accurate depiction of what it is like to live inside my head right now.
To look life in the face, always, to look life in the face, and to know it for what it is. At last to know it, to love it, for what it is, and then, to put it away. Leonard, always the years between us, always the years, always the love...
always the hours...
|
I just got back from watching the Hours over at Pony's. I think that movie, along with Donnie Darko, might be the most accurate depiction of what it is like to live inside my head right now.
To look life in the face, always, to look life in the face, and to know it for what it is. At last to know it, to love it, for what it is, and then, to put it away. Leonard, always the years between us, always the years, always the love...
always the hours...
I cannot explain; you would not understand; this is not how I am
Sometime when I was about 5 or 6 (shortly after the Neverending Story came out of VHS), the Wolf slunk in under the crack between the closet door and my bedroom floor and took up residence under my bed. He is hideously big, with cold green eyes and greasy, matted black fur, and his teeth are sharper than goodbye forever.
Of course there are rules of conduct, he promised me in his whisper, as quiet as roots growing in a graveyard. He would stay under the bed, so as long as I kept my little feet out of the reach of his uncontrollable hunger, I had nothing to worry about.
I was not without my defences. My bed was home to a multitude of bears, who watched my back as I scurried to the bathroom and who tightly patrolled the perimeter of my blanket.
When we moved to Georgia, my parents assured me that the wolf lost our scent at the airport.
Later on, of course, I realized that the wolf wasnt really under the bed. The black, wet, ravenous terror that keeps me awake now is all in my head.
Except that it has once again taken flesh and fur and fang, and it knows no rules, and it fears nothing.
And slowly, so incredibly slowly for something so lonesome and hungry, it's pulling me under the bed.
|
Sometime when I was about 5 or 6 (shortly after the Neverending Story came out of VHS), the Wolf slunk in under the crack between the closet door and my bedroom floor and took up residence under my bed. He is hideously big, with cold green eyes and greasy, matted black fur, and his teeth are sharper than goodbye forever.
Of course there are rules of conduct, he promised me in his whisper, as quiet as roots growing in a graveyard. He would stay under the bed, so as long as I kept my little feet out of the reach of his uncontrollable hunger, I had nothing to worry about.
I was not without my defences. My bed was home to a multitude of bears, who watched my back as I scurried to the bathroom and who tightly patrolled the perimeter of my blanket.
When we moved to Georgia, my parents assured me that the wolf lost our scent at the airport.
Later on, of course, I realized that the wolf wasnt really under the bed. The black, wet, ravenous terror that keeps me awake now is all in my head.
Except that it has once again taken flesh and fur and fang, and it knows no rules, and it fears nothing.
And slowly, so incredibly slowly for something so lonesome and hungry, it's pulling me under the bed.
Tuesday, October 12, 2004
he said, the main thing with taking this is that you have to build up really slowly to avoid side effects. and i said, as long as it kicks in by winter.
|
Monday, October 11, 2004
America, fuck yeah!
over the weekend I had the extremely good fortune to see a sneak preview of team america: world police, which was sheer genius. this stirring tribute to american patriotism renewed my faith that we will one day win recognition from the rest of the world for our brave and unrelenting struggle in ther war against terror.
hee hee. and it's done with marionettes, dude, and you can see the strings, and like, they say cuss words a lot and make fun of everybody. and there's these great songs, too, like "and pearl harbor sucked just a little bit more than i miss you," or "freedom isnt free," which sounds frighteningly like the type of country music you hear at bush campaign rallies.
seriously, this brilliant satire of redneck patriotism restored my faith in filmmaking.
now if only someone, could restore my faith in "america."
|
over the weekend I had the extremely good fortune to see a sneak preview of team america: world police, which was sheer genius. this stirring tribute to american patriotism renewed my faith that we will one day win recognition from the rest of the world for our brave and unrelenting struggle in ther war against terror.
hee hee. and it's done with marionettes, dude, and you can see the strings, and like, they say cuss words a lot and make fun of everybody. and there's these great songs, too, like "and pearl harbor sucked just a little bit more than i miss you," or "freedom isnt free," which sounds frighteningly like the type of country music you hear at bush campaign rallies.
seriously, this brilliant satire of redneck patriotism restored my faith in filmmaking.
now if only someone, could restore my faith in "america."
Saturday, October 02, 2004
|
Friday, October 01, 2004
I can say "the girl wants to kill the supervisor, too..."
after a lovely lunch at brotehr juniper's with a dear good friend I stopped at the library to get a book on ASL.
I now am able to sign
"I want to kill this person."
nice.
|
after a lovely lunch at brotehr juniper's with a dear good friend I stopped at the library to get a book on ASL.
I now am able to sign
"I want to kill this person."
nice.
