March 25th, 2005

Short hair suspicion

Today was a day

Today I got a few things done that needed doing. I spent all the money left in my bank account to pay off a debt, which sucked, but more money is just an email away so I'll be alright. I finally got fed up and called about my treadmill yesterday. I was ready to rip someone a new one if need be, but need wasn't. They had the wrong phone number because they're idiots who use a phone book instead of reading a form, and that was the problem. If I'd called earlier I might already have it, but that's life. My phone manner has improved a lot thanks to my job, and I was able to navigate the bureaucracy of the crappy phone system pretty well.

I generally avoid such interactions both out of a sense of social shame and because there is a really angry bitter person lurking within me who I don't want to unleash. I'd rather write polite emails and work out the anger through other means (Unfortunately including eating) than give a stranger my wrathful self, but at this point I was angry enough to go ahead and do that. I didn't have to.

I also prepared my first treatment and sent it to my boss to look over. It wasn't great, I actually really like the story but stylistically the thing is a mess due to the fact that I was writing super fast and slightly inebriated. He hasn't sent me back any feedback yet which could be a bad sign, or just a sign that he didn't have time to read 7 single-spaced pages yet. Anyway the experience was good, both because I actually showed my writing to someone else (wahoo!) and more importantly because it taught me the value of story-outlining and scene-plotting, which I will take forward. I don't know why I resisted it before except that I KNEW the first result would be kind of iffy and I hate attaching my name to iffy things. I need to get over that because it's only by creating crap that we learn to create worthwhile works. Every artist saws through piles of shit to get to the gleaming gold nuggets resting in his psyche. I need to write more. A lot more. This was a first step. There need to be more steps. I am a work in progress currently at a low point but I will persevere and overcome. There is no other option except for death, both literally and figuratively. Eat less, write more, I have a mantra.

Today Nancy Hopkins, the woman who "Got the vapors" because of what Larry Summers said that caused the big flack, gave a talk at Columbia in my father's honor. That just makes me really angry. My father was a liberal, no doubt, but he was for freedom of speech and he always taught me "There are no bad words, just stupid people who get offended. The more ideas we have out there the better we are as a society." I was free to curse in his presence though he asked that I respect the frail mental constitution of the average American brainwashed zombie going through life thinking that "All girls should be a size two" is a less offensive message than "George Bush loves the cock." Having little Blanche "I have always depended on the censorship of Academics" Dubois speak in his honor makes me want to eat a dozen cheeseburgers. Maybe I should write something instead.
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    Wasted Words

Millions flock to save one of their own

This week across America millions of members of the religious right have left their comfortable seats basking in the warmth of Bill O'Reilly's spray-on tan and ventured out in to the streets to make their voices heard.

"The campaign to save Terri Schiavo is not about Terri Schiavo, it's about all of us" explained Mark Leerson, of Rockford Illinois. "If we allow the hospital to deny care to people with severe mental impairment then how can those of us who base our lives around a 2,000 year old myth that has been debunked millions of time be sure that we will receive sufficient medical care to keep us going until the prayer kicks in?"

Indeed many of the kinds of mentally impaired people who think that supporting a senseless war and berating young women who have to make difficult reproductive choices are the best possible uses of their time are terrified of the implications of the Terri Schiavo case.

"I can barely dress myself" says Grace McManus of Gillington Ohio. "Who's to say I won't be next?"

Doctors across the country have issued statements that only the most severely damaged patients are eligible to have life support or feeding tubes removed. Voting for an aristocratic dip shit who wants to funnel your money into his friends pockets is indeed a sign of severe mental impairment, but it would not disqualify you from receiving emergency medical care. "It's certainly true that many Republican supporters show the same sort of non-response to stimuli as Mrs. Schiavo, for example they react to economic downturn and terrorist strikes in America by strengthening the political position of those who brought catastrophe down on their heads. On the other hand over 67% of them can RELIABLY smile when their parents enter the room, so they are not quite as incapacitated as Mrs. Schiavo." Points out Dr. Mary Wilson of New York City. "We will treat even the dumbest of people with the utmost respect. Just the other day I removed a penile obstruction from a visiting preacher from Alabama. I did not laugh at him once when he told me god had told him to shove the pencil lead into his dingdong."

In an off the record interview Jesus Christ denied any association with the loony protesters. "Dude, these people piss me off so god damned much it makes me take my OWN name in vain. Jesus fucking Christ! Also, I've never spoken to Jerry Falwell or Benny Hinn or any of those other douches who want your money. I spoke with one guy once, in 1210, told him to stop claiming shit in my name. He started a crusade. I've been silent since. Tell those douches to shut the fuck up and get real jobs. Also peace to my homeboy Hakeem from Philly. Yeah, whassup dawg? Holla!"

Billy Graham and Jerry Falwell issued a joint press release stating that they were saddened and disappointed to learn Jesus had joined the left wing media bias, but that they would continue to be douches in his name for the foreseeable future. When reached for comment by our reporter Shawn Peters Terry Schiavo lolled her head off to the side and said something that sounded like "Momma." She then blinked a couple times and allowed her jaw to go slack, because she's a fucking vegetable.
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