Just ignore this post. Wank Wank....

I've been in an odd mood today.  Full of ennui.  Everything bores me.  I lay down every book I pick up after only a few pages.  I turn off the television after only a few minutes.  Even the internet fails to interest me today.

Maybe all this smoke in the air is getting to me.  The air is yellow in the morning.  The sun filtered through burnt forests and lives.

Maybe it's some sort of midlife crisis. 

I think I need a mental enema.  I might stay up all night drinking beer and listening to music and call in sick tomorrow.

In a couple weeks we are going camping for 4 days or so at Gold Bluffs Beach campground.  I wonder how long we could stay at the campground before they told us to move?  Could we live there permanently?  That sounds appealing to me at the moment.



I'm increasingly thinking that the end is near.  We could still avoid this impending doom if we, as a society (and I'm mainly thinking of America at this point) would pull our heads out of our asses and work on fixing the problem.  But I just don't see that happening.  We need a prescription for glasses for our entire country because we are some short sighted motherfuckers.

It seems the ash falling from the sky the past few days has imparted it's flavor to everything around me.  It all tastes of ash.

Heh. I'm not into poetry much, but one of my favorites is Ash Wednesday by T.S. Eliot and today is Wednesday and it's ashy. 

Because these wings are no longer wings to fly
But merely vans to beat the air
The air which is now thoroughly small and dry
Smaller and dryer than the will
Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still.

Though I have strong feelings about not having children, time spent with my niece causes me to question that.  Probably because I'm only around when she's good.  I wouldn't really care too much about our society shuffling off this mortal coil if it wasn't for her.  I loved that recent show (on the History Channel) called Life After People. There is a part in that show where they talk about what sort of ecology might evolve in the remains of skyscrapers in big cities and they mention cats that evolve to the point of having gliding wings.  That sounds cool.   I'm all for that.   I suppose I've long been a misanthrope.  I've always enjoyed reading apocalyptic stories. 

And pray to God to have mercy upon us
And pray that I may forget
These matters that with myself I too much discuss
Too much explain
Because I do not hope to turn again
Let these words answer
For what is done, not to be done again
May the judgement not be too heavy upon us

Would Blue Shield pay for a voluntary lobotomy?  I guess it wouldn't really matter to me afterwards, would it?

I don't really want one.  Losing my mental capacity is one of the worst things I can think of happening to me.  Becoming a drooling idiot like most of the people I seem to encounter.  Ugh. 

I want to call up my sister and her husband and try to explain to them how it's all going to go to hell in a handbasket and they should buy some property someplace and start getting ready for the big crash coming.  And take me along to help out.  And createdestiny too, of course.  They've got the ducats to do it.  I don't. 

I find myself, once again, wishing for something to happen where I could sacrifice myself in a noble heroic way and just get this shit over with.  It probably won't happen though.

Weird, I dislike so much of modern society but if it wasn't for modern medicine, I'd have died at about the age of 36 or so.  Maybe I was supposed to die then and my life since has been unnatural in some way. 

In addition to my niece, Evangeline, one of the things I got going for me that makes things not taste quite so ashy is that I won a copy of The Best of Lucius Shepard from The Man himself and I'm really looking forward to getting that.  I never win shit.  Maybe this a turning point for me.  Quality hardcovers like the ones that Subterranean Press put out have always been something that I lust after but am unable to afford. It'll be nice to have one of their books.  And from a modern badass author too.

Dang. I've reached that point in my beer drinking where the taste of the beer has lodged in the back of my palate and now demands that I send more.   Unfortunately, I've also got a case of the hiccups, which I hate. 

I'm no alcoholic, but when I get 'the taste' in my mouth, I just wanna keep on drinking till I pass out or run out of beer.  Looks like I'll run out first, tonight.

On an entirely different subject...  The internet is cool in that it lets me interface with writers.  Not just me, obviously....
Just this evening, I have commented and been re-commented (?) with Lucius Shepard and Will Shetterly  (and if you don't know who they are, you aren't a sci-fi nerd)  I've also commented this evening on Warren Ellis' LJ, but he probably won't respond cause he's all hardcore and shit. 

It's amazing how many authors are on LJ or if not on LJ, have a blog somewhere or another that I (or even you, if you can figure out how to use google) can go to and chat with them and make pithy comments regarding their books (or, if you've been drinking for several hours, making insulting comments regarding their books... I hope they got senses of humors....)

It used to be, if you wanted to interface with authors you had to go through a lengthy and laborious process of writing out your missive and putting it in an envelope and going to the post office and all that shit.  It's much easier now.

I really hope Warren Ellis doesn't send his minions to mess me up. I've been sorta hard on him recently...

Well, it's 1:30 here and I'm nearly out of beer. I suppose I should consider going to bed soon.

Just took a couple of melatonin. Better head for the bed before I pass out. 

Hey, melatonin helps with all kinds of stuff, including Alzheimers, which is probably good for me.  I sometimes think I have early onset Alzheimers.  Or maybe I just have a really shitty memory factory.

OMG! I want another beer so bad...

Oh yah, that's the stuff..

Lady, three white leopards sat under a juniper-tree
In the cool of the day, having fed to sateity
On my legs my heart my liver and that which had been contained
In the hollow round of my skull. And God said
Shall these bones live? shall these
Bones live?

Somehow, it's already 2am and I'm still awake. Second to the last beer in the fridge.  I think I'll save that last one.  Typing has become a problem.  When is my direct mind to computer linkage going to become available?  You'll be sorry then, won't you?  My super large, tumescent brain spewing directly onto the internet?  You better get a high speed connection right now, while you still can.

This post has been brought to you by Pyramid Apricot Ale and Built To Spill, who are A-OK in my book.

Just ignore this post. Wank Wank....

I've been in an odd mood today.  Full of ennui.  Everything bores me.  I lay down every book I pick up after only a few pages.  I turn off the television after only a few minutes.  Even the internet fails to interest me today.

Maybe all this smoke in the air is getting to me.  The air is yellow in the morning.  The sun filtered through burnt forests and lives.

Maybe it's some sort of midlife crisis. 

I think I need a mental enema.  I might stay up all night drinking beer and listening to music and call in sick tomorrow.

In a couple weeks we are going camping for 4 days or so at Gold Bluffs Beach campground.  I wonder how long we could stay at the campground before they told us to move?  Could we live there permanently?  That sounds appealing to me at the moment.



I'm increasingly thinking that the end is near.  We could still avoid this impending doom if we, as a society (and I'm mainly thinking of America at this point) would pull our heads out of our asses and work on fixing the problem.  But I just don't see that happening.  We need a prescription for glasses for our entire country because we are some short sighted motherfuckers.

It seems the ash falling from the sky the past few days has imparted it's flavor to everything around me.  It all tastes of ash.

Heh. I'm not into poetry much, but one of my favorites is Ash Wednesday by T.S. Eliot and today is Wednesday and it's ashy. 

Because these wings are no longer wings to fly
But merely vans to beat the air
The air which is now thoroughly small and dry
Smaller and dryer than the will
Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still.

Though I have strong feelings about not having children, time spent with my niece causes me to question that.  Probably because I'm only around when she's good.  I wouldn't really care too much about our society shuffling off this mortal coil if it wasn't for her.  I loved that recent show (on the History Channel) called Life After People. There is a part in that show where they talk about what sort of ecology might evolve in the remains of skyscrapers in big cities and they mention cats that evolve to the point of having gliding wings.  That sounds cool.   I'm all for that.   I suppose I've long been a misanthrope.  I've always enjoyed reading apocalyptic stories. 

And pray to God to have mercy upon us
And pray that I may forget
These matters that with myself I too much discuss
Too much explain
Because I do not hope to turn again
Let these words answer
For what is done, not to be done again
May the judgement not be too heavy upon us

Would Blue Shield pay for a voluntary lobotomy?  I guess it wouldn't really matter to me afterwards, would it?

I don't really want one.  Losing my mental capacity is one of the worst things I can think of happening to me.  Becoming a drooling idiot like most of the people I seem to encounter.  Ugh. 

I want to call up my sister and her husband and try to explain to them how it's all going to go to hell in a handbasket and they should buy some property someplace and start getting ready for the big crash coming.  And take me along to help out.  And createdestiny too, of course.  They've got the ducats to do it.  I don't. 

I find myself, once again, wishing for something to happen where I could sacrifice myself in a noble heroic way and just get this shit over with.  It probably won't happen though.

Weird, I dislike so much of modern society but if it wasn't for modern medicine, I'd have died at about the age of 36 or so.  Maybe I was supposed to die then and my life since has been unnatural in some way. 

In addition to my niece, Evangeline, one of the things I got going for me that makes things not taste quite so ashy is that I won a copy of The Best of Lucius Shepard from The Man himself and I'm really looking forward to getting that.  I never win shit.  Maybe this a turning point for me.  Quality hardcovers like the ones that Subterranean Press put out have always been something that I lust after but am unable to afford. It'll be nice to have one of their books.  And from a modern badass author too.

Dang. I've reached that point in my beer drinking where the taste of the beer has lodged in the back of my palate and now demands that I send more.   Unfortunately, I've also got a case of the hiccups, which I hate. 

I'm no alcoholic, but when I get 'the taste' in my mouth, I just wanna keep on drinking till I pass out or run out of beer.  Looks like I'll run out first, tonight.

On an entirely different subject...  The internet is cool in that it lets me interface with writers.  Not just me, obviously....
Just this evening, I have commented and been re-commented (?) with Lucius Shepard and Will Shetterly  (and if you don't know who they are, you aren't a sci-fi nerd)  I've also commented this evening on Warren Ellis' LJ, but he probably won't respond cause he's all hardcore and shit. 

It's amazing how many authors are on LJ or if not on LJ, have a blog somewhere or another that I (or even you, if you can figure out how to use google) can go to and chat with them and make pithy comments regarding their books (or, if you've been drinking for several hours, making insulting comments regarding their books... I hope they got senses of humors....)

It used to be, if you wanted to interface with authors you had to go through a lengthy and laborious process of writing out your missive and putting it in an envelope and going to the post office and all that shit.  It's much easier now.

I really hope Warren Ellis doesn't send his minions to mess me up. I've been sorta hard on him recently...

Well, it's 1:30 here and I'm nearly out of beer. I suppose I should consider going to bed soon.

Just took a couple of melatonin. Better head for the bed before I pass out. 

Hey, melatonin helps with all kinds of stuff, including Alzheimers, which is probably good for me.  I sometimes think I have early onset Alzheimers.  Or maybe I just have a really shitty memory factory.

OMG! I want another beer so bad...

Oh yah, that's the stuff..

Lady, three white leopards sat under a juniper-tree
In the cool of the day, having fed to sateity
On my legs my heart my liver and that which had been contained
In the hollow round of my skull. And God said
Shall these bones live? shall these
Bones live?

Somehow, it's already 2am and I'm still awake. Second to the last beer in the fridge.  I think I'll save that last one.  Typing has become a problem.  When is my direct mind to computer linkage going to become available?  You'll be sorry then, won't you?  My super large, tumescent brain spewing directly onto the internet?  You better get a high speed connection right now, while you still can.

This post has been brought to you by Pyramid Apricot Ale and Built To Spill, who are A-OK in my book.