arse poetica

Why Can't I Be You?

Oh my lord, I love this dog. Everything about her. Her solidity, the way she whumps down next to me when she's curling up in bed (and for those who may think she is spoiled, I maintain that it is actually me who is spoiled rotten by her love), her little licks, those eyes!, her dee-licious good smell and thick fur, the way she waits for me when I walk in and out, how happy she gets just to play, her right-on-time internal clock for her nightly bone, her cold-nose nudges for attention, her mini-moans when I can't help myself and have to jump on top of her, and how gentle she is and strong, strong, strong. She is an evolutionary wonder, the perfect culmination of instinct and beauty,  form and function, but when I watch her run I think that she may be a good argument for divine design, too.

This is our lovely Kate sitting quietly below us on the couch while we read the afternoon away on Tuesday.

Title inspired by the song playing at the time I wrote this. db has compiled his New Year's Eve dance mix, and what's a 4-course dinner and boogie down session w/ friends w/o The Cure, I ask you.

Happy New Year, all!

mayfly project 2005

A year in 24 words: mayfly project 2005.

Mine follows below, though I'm not sure why I gave it that structure. In short bursts, I think it's easier for me to think this way. I wanted to write about what happened to us this year, but as usual my mind's taken up w/ the political chicanery of these unparalleled hucksters. I wish 'tweren't so, though it is telling, yo.

11.03.04: oh, dear god
terrible slump
blog, travel, friends, love, new pup
over the hump
cheney rummy condi bush
we.must.dump.
or find window, jump

And your year?

[Here's what I hope will be my 24-word recap in 2006: Patrick Fitzgerald wins Nobel Prize for methodically pursuing and jailing -- against all odds and enemies -- the liars and cheats of the Bush madministration. Oh, what a year it could be!]

General Anesthesia

Had my pre-op appointment this afternoon. Three boring hours in the hospital, if you please, a good 2 hrs and 25 minutes of which were spent just.sitting.there. Grumble, grumble.  The longest prolonged amount of attention came after the half-hour mark when my X-ray tech spent 20 minutes w/ me arranging my shoulder in various poses. Judging from his exclamations, he's either a top-notch arranger and highly pleased w/ himself, or I've got an especially photogenic shoulder joint.

Not much news today. I know what it boils down to: arthroscopic surgery, part of which is fix-it-if-we-find-it. Grrreeaaaat. My rotator cuff is still torn. I still have a bone spur and some sort of cartilage impingement and a possible biceps wadjklfafhkmff and a labral mfioffjflsss. Oh, who the hell can ever understand what they're saying? Plus, I didn't hear anything after the resident said "general anesthesia." Cut to: db and me w/ saucer-sized eyes. General anesthesia?!

Whatchu talkin' 'bout, Willis? I thought I was going to have a spinal block (sounds fun, no?) and, like, be given some happy juice or something.

I've never been under general anesthesia. I've never been in the hospital. I've never had surgery. The surgery, which I'd before regarded as an in-out-Bob's-your-uncle kind of outpatient thing, suddenly took on a whole new tenor. They're going to tube me and knock me out?? Doesn't that sound like a much bigger deal?

Apparently, it's not. My orthopaedist doesn't find this little boring, workaday, mundane fact about my pending surgery as daunting as I do. He does a million of 'em, and in his experience, a slight knocking out is highly uncomfortable for the patient. Why is that, doc? Well, because the patient is in a neck brace, head strapped to the table, their face draped completely, not to mention their arm pulled down a good 5-inches for 3 hrs so as to open the shoulder socket as much as possible. Altogether now, kids: claustrophobia! Oh, hell no. Knock me out, friends. I'm not sitting there immobile and suffocating and conscious. Heyull naw.

So, there it is. Surgery under general anesthesia. Sounds crappy to me. Let's see, a slew of Class A narcotics, 6 weeks in a sling, 2 months recuperation, 3 months rehabilitation (at least). Should be a breeze!

That's a be-slinged 6 weeks w/ my dominant hand generally out of the picture. I'm fairly ambidextrous, but it's going to be a little awkward, I can tell. db's going to have to cut my food for me! And, more importantly, guest post.

And in cheery news, the nurse suggested we fill out our living wills. Alrighty then.

This Just In: The sky is blue!

From the Department of No Shit comes this howler of a no-brainer enlightening study:

Fear of death may factor into who we vote for.

Authors of a study published in the latest issue of Analyses of Social Issues and Public Policy believe that voting behavior should be the result of rational choice based on an informed understanding of the issues.

Bwaaahaahahahahahaha! Well, we here in arse poetica's UtopiaLand strongly believe that our Dingo should be recognized as the next incarnation of the Buddha, that fresh-squeezed pomegranate juice should appear magically every morning for our breakfast, which should be taken on the terrace of our pied-a-terre in the 5th (maybe 4th) arrondissement, and that we should be enjoying it with that hot little biscuit Josh Lucas. Is it going to happen? No.

But using research based on the 2004 presidential election, they found that people may vote with their hearts, rather than their heads. Their findings demonstrated that registered voters in a psychologically benign state of mind preferred Senator Kerry to President Bush, but Bush was more popular than Kerry after voters received a subtle reminder of death. Citing an Osama bin Laden tape that surfaced a few days before the election, among other factors, the authors state, "the present study adds convergent support to the idea that George W. Bush's victory in the 2004 presidential election was facilitated by Americans' nonconscious concerns about death" The authors believe that people were scared into voting for Bush.

Ya think?? Gosh, not like there was any evidence for that theory.

More than 130 registered voters participated in the study. Split into two groups, the first group was asked to write down a description of their emotions regarding the thought of their own death and, as specifically as possible, write down what will physically happen when they die and after they are dead. The second group responded to parallel questions regarding watching television. Within the first group 32 responded that they would vote for Bush and 14 opted for Kerry. In the second group, the decision was reversed as 34 selected Kerry and 8 selected Bush. "The best antidote to this problem may be to monitor and take pains to resist any efforts by candidates to capitalize on fear-mongering," they conclude.

Priceless.

Anybody seen my magic wand? You know, the one I like to wave around when I'm in need of an informed electorate, incorruptible politicians, or pure motives? Maybe my unicorn took it to Atlantis for the weekend.

P.S. Above, in the first paragraph, when the authors note that "people may vote with their hearts, rather than their heads," did y'all replace 'hearts' w/ 'asses' like I did? Doesn't it read better that way?

Merry Merry

Dear Friends,

I've read two books and seen one film in the last three days, and the common theme is unflinching honesty. If you have not yet seen The Squid and the Whale, do see it. Maybe it's just the fact that I have first-hand knowledge of how much shared custody blows, but this film was more truthful and real -- about everyone's needs, failures, humiliations, selfishness, and generosity -- than anything else I've seen this year. This isn't saying much, I'm sure, as I don't see films like I used to. Three cheers for Noah Baumbach nonetheless.

The books I read were Persepolis (part 2), by Marjane Satrapi, and A Million Little Pieces, by James Frey. Persepolis is a memoir in graphic novel form of Satrapi's experience growing up during the Iranian revolution. Part 2 chronicles her schooling abroad and subsequent return to Iran. It is moving, clever, keenly observed, and the pictures alone are worth the price of admission. You can read it in an hour, but like all good books, you don't want to. Reading it I kept thinking, What an opportunity! How rare to get into the mind of person whose life and concerns half-way around the world are so different from and so similar to your own. I think I prefer part 1 of this memoir, because it is simply beautiful how she captures the bright innocence and resilience and confusion and otherworldliness of being a child.

Frey's memoir of his stint in rehab is so unsparingly honest it made my heart race. I can't quite fathom how he was able to write w/ such clarity and immediacy. It is exactly the book I needed to get me over my reading slump; I literally could not put it down. I have no particular interest in memoirs about addiction, having a quite visceral anti-drug philosophy, but I have great interest in personal integrity, honest analyses, and lessons earned, and I took a lot from this book. Frey does himself and his readers a big favor in not glamorizing any aspect of substance use. It is brutal, grim, frightening, and disgusting, but, amazingly, you come away not despairing but hopeful and determined to live more honestly yourself.

These three autobiographical tales illustrate how so much of life is difficult, brutal even, and we are broken by it, but a hair's fraction on the other side of that lies the potential for beauty and inspiration and connection. Which brings me to my wish.

Merry Merry to you all. Thanks for such an odd and lovely communicative experience on this blog this past year. It never occurred to me anyone would read it, and I'm still not sure how most of you found it, but thank you for checking in, and thank you, most especially, for your always thoughtprovoking comments. I am sorry that I have been too scattered to respond of late, but I will change that. I wish all of you a festive holiday and with these examples of rigorous introspection, truthfulness, and transcendence filling my head, I hope that everyone is able to move ahead purposefully in the coming year. Be well, stay well, get well. Whatever you need.

xo,
ae

I'm Sure Ladies Home Journal Is Hiring

Oh, goodie. Another (supposedly) inconsequential list of kewl kidz on which women and people of color make a blip of an appearance and everyone tut-tuts that it's subjective and "unscientific" while eyeing it covetously and using it to make/reinforce their opinions.

Women, Unlisted.

This month (December 2005), Washingtonian Magazine has delivered a list that will cause heartburn in the city's journalism world, especially among women in the field.

The list is the testosterone-heavy lineup of Washingtonian's Top 50 Best and Most Influential Journalists. Just seven of the listees are women. Minorities are in short supply as well. Editor at large Garrett M. Graff acknowledged in his introduction to the list that it "contains fewer women than it had in some years past" (Washingtonian produces the list every four years, publishing the first one in 1973). He says, "The heyday for a generation of ground-breaking women reporters like Helen Thomas and Mary McGrory has passed and a new generation has yet to emerge." This will come as quite a surprise to women journalists who have been working in Washington for many years and won't be pleased to hear themselves described as if they are chicks that haven't hatched. Without arguing the merits of those who did make the Top 50 list, its composition reflects the fraternal nature of how things get done in the Federal City.

Furthermore, a companion article about journalists to watch -- the people who will be the influentials some day -- tells us that men will continue to dominate Washington journalism just about as much as they do now. Of 12 journalists mentioned as up and comers, only two -- Jessica Yellin of ABC and Maureen Groppe of Gannett News Service -- are women. Projecting from that, women would be about 16 percent of future top journalists -- just a hair more than Washingtonian's current Top 50, of which women are 14 percent. One can say don't take it too seriously, it doesn't mean all that much, but such lists confer bragging rights and prestige on those who are on them. Washingtonian periodically publishes a list of the metropolitan area's best physicians, and I, like many others, am happier when I see that my doctors are on it.

And when women are such a very small component of a list of movers and shakers, the message is that they're not in a position to deliver the goods. In the city whose journalists generate stories of major importance far beyond Washington, this is no small thing. Women have been the majority of college journalism majors since 1977, and they constitute better than a third of journalists working in the U.S. today. So why are so few on a list like this?

I blame the patriarchy.

Those accustomed to seeing 44 white guys on a list of the Top 50 anything may want to Regender this list. Heck, Regender everything. It's about damn time.

It's the Little Things...

Had a much-needed day at home today, slept in, snuggling w/ the Dingo, who is the warmest dog on the planet. She makes up for the sinus headache/sore throat/fatigue.

Monday morning, db and I woke up freezing. A couple of phone calls and a handyperson later, we find out that the heat exchange unit had holes the size of Arkansas in it. Dur! Thankfully, the part is still under warranty. Sadly, the labor charge isn't. Brother, can you spare $700?

Our handyperson wondered aloud why our carbon monoxide detector hadn't warned us earlier. Come again? Carbon monoxide detector? As arse poetica functions as a public service announcement forum, y'all please check your carbon monoxide detectors! You can buy one at Lowe's (90+ % of contributions to Dems) for ~ $30. I thought the Dingo was looking a little pekid. ::cough::

While I padded about w/ my coat on, the beasties ran around thinking it was a holiday because it was mid-morning and both parents were home! Man, they're cute. Look at all we're missing when we're at work. [I'm well aware that they spend 99.99% of that time sleeping, but I do have "Cat in the Hat" fantasies.]

I love a lazy morning in, but it never happens.* I am constitutionally unable to enjoy the time of day commonly known as morning, because I'm a night owl and the morning always interrupts my reverie. If "morning" started at noon, I could enjoy it much more. But Monday morning, despite the thought of a thousand dollars in heating repair costs, was wonderful. What a difference a cup of tea makes! Is this how normal people live, not rushing bleary-eyed from bedroom to bathroom to car to work? Gosh. Now I see the appeal.

*One benefit to being sick, and I'm sad only to have discovered this recently (the excuse/reason, I mean; not the being sick), is not having to do anything. I have so enjoyed the last couple of days, though I felt terrible, because nothing was expected of me. No calls, no emails, no meetings, no shopping, no commitments, it's brilliant. Now i've just got to figure out how to have this w/o the illness. I have become -- quicker than you can say, "Pass the bonbons" -- enamored of lying around in my pajamas reading/writing/napping/hugging beasts. db and I took a nap yesterday afternoon, and we were like, Now, this is living! Naps, good books, a good cup of tea, fresh food, clean air, world peace, my dingo. That's not asking water from the moon, is it?

Anyhoo, I like handypersons, as I am a fan of competent people and people w/ technical skills. Walter gave us the low down and even gave us advice re: seeking other estimates. Nice. Got some advice, made some calls, got estimates, made appointments, and by mid-afternoon Tuesday, we were up and running again. Thank you, Mebane Air & Heating!

It was hardly a hardship being w/o heat for one night, though the temp hovered in the low-to-mid-50s. We had a roaring fire and when we retired to the bedroom we had a space heater. I was actually hot that night. Heating bills are insane this winter because everyone is a greedy bastard of the convenient excuse of Hurricane Katrina. I worry about the old folks and the poor nearby, so we're going to take action. Which reminds me, if you needed another reason to buy your gas at Citgo, here it is.

[photo credit: JM, Prague, 10.2005. The cast of characters seemed to fit the tale.]

What in the Hell??

Is there a space program involving Neptune to which I've not been privy? Cos it seems Dear Leader's spending an awful lot of time there.

Bush sees good 2005.

"This has been a year of strong progress toward a freer, more peaceful world and a prosperous America," he said. "It's been a good year for the American people."

Come again? Say what? Has mad cowboy disease finally overtaken our flailing flubber?

A freer, more peaceful world, OR U.S. Figures Show Sharp Global Rise In Terrorism?

A good year for the Murkan Sheeple, OR Poverty Rate Up 3rd Year In a Row AND Consumer Debt Loads at Record High?

DAMN LIARS. When, for the love of all that is holy and just, will we finally reject completely their time-honored practice of Saying It Makes It So?

"The (vice) President votes in the affirmative."

Fresh from sneering at our troops in a display of irony so thick it blocked the light of the sun ("We're winning! It's safe! That's why we're skulking around in secret tucked way deep away from the action on the ground!"), Dick "Dick" Ch*ney rushed at breakneck (if only...) speed to stick it to the poor, the infirm, the elderly, and students. Cos he's proud to be a Murkan where at least he knows he's free.

I've taken some liberties (while I had some left) with the article title.

F*ck f*cking Dick Ch*ney and the cloud of pestilence he rode in on.

The Republican-controlled Senate passed legislation to cut federal deficits by $39.7 billion on Wednesday by the narrowest of margins, 51-50, with Vice President Dick Cheney casting the deciding vote.

The measure, the product of a year's labors by the White House and the GOP in Congress, imposes the first restraints in nearly a decade in federal benefit programs such as Medicaid, Medicare and student loans.

[snip]

Home health care payments under Medicare would be frozen at current levels for a year, and Medicaid would be altered to make it harder for low-income elderly to qualify for federal nursing home benefits by turning assets over to their children.

And if that weren't galling enough:

Senate passes health, education spending cuts.

The U.S. Senate on Wednesday passed a $602 billion bill that cuts funds for health, education and labor programs on the same day the Senate approved two separate rounds of cuts to health care programs for the poor.

By voice vote, the Senate approved the fiscal 2006 spending bill for the Health and Human Services, Labor and Education departments.

The bill, which now goes to President George W. Bush for signing into law, cuts $1.4 billion from last year's spending.

Some high-profile programs would suffer spending cuts in the labor, health and education bill, including the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and the "No Child Left Behind" education program that had been a priority of President George W. Bush.

Job training programs also would be cut, as well as children's health and Head Start preschool programs for poor children.

We've obviously got our priorities in order.

Merry Paupermas, all you Tiny Tims.

Love,
Scrooge

Damn Skippy + Whoa There, Skippy

It is screamingly obvious that the NYT needs to clean house.

Keller Must Go.

The country needs The New York Times. A Times of aggressive journalism, integrity, and especially transparency is essential—seriously—to American democracy. And that’s exactly why the Times no longer needs Bill Keller—and maybe should be reconsidering the filial inheritance of its publisher, too.

Judith Miller was bad enough. Keller’s two crucial admissions in his letter to his colleagues about the Miller affair—that a year passed before he “got around” to dealing with a controversy that was swirling inside the paper, and that he didn’t think or have the gumption to ask Miller questions about her source-reporter relationship with Scooter Libby—were unforgivable lapses for the person at the top. Let’s say one of my reporters was out peddling falsehoods about a matter of war and peace for a year. Another of my reporters came to me and said, “Reporter X is printing untrue stuff about a very consequential matter.” And I spent a year—a year!—avoiding it. I wouldn’t even let my board members fire me. I’d resign before they could. But I wouldn’t avoid it for a year, because the notion that any editor would do that is beyond inconceivable—except that one did.

Now we come to Risen and Lichtblau. Forget whether the paper held the story until after the election. That’s a partisan question, not a journalistic one: It’s not the job of the reporters and editors of the Times to win or lose elections for anyone. The journalistic question is whether Keller and others at the Times were intimidated. The answer, or at least one answer, seems quite clearly to be that they were. And one prays that they’re not delusional enough to be sitting around today telling themselves that they were courageous to publish after George W. Bush hauled them into the Oval Office earlier this month, as Jonathan Alter reported. A mere meeting with the president is supposed to intimidate the leaders of the world’s greatest newspaper? Thirty-four years ago, their predecessors were essentially threatened with jail time by the Nixon White House. But they understood their responsibility.

The only drawback to this article is Tomasky's feeble exhortation half-way through that liberals quit pickin' on the Times because, apparently, then we give aid and comfort to the chicken littles crying "liberal media!" I'm not hearing it. We deserve better. The Times is an unwieldy corporate giant w/ its journalistic head up its huge, hegemonic ass. Its Israel coverage is contemptible, its priorities in political coverage are woefully wrongheaded (apparently the new front page is A18, feh). The tragic state of affairs would be laughable if it weren't so detrimental to the function of our democracy (see cited examples above).

I criticize the Times not to weaken the 4th estate (as the wingnut element want) but precisely because I don't want a weakened 4th estate. Tomasky's argument is a tired, if specious, one, and it does not serve the liberal agenda (such that it is) to sit idly by while wingnuts take potshots and the electorate continues to vote for idiots who seem like beer buddies. For f*ck's sake, people. I just refuse to capitulate on this of all things.