(no subject)

Looks like rain, and we hope. Should stop looking at DVDs on Amazon, because I don't really need all of them and I know it. No real things of substance today, except for dreams about death, and France, and little golden boxes. Realized that Cleo, whom I met earlier this week, looks startlingly like someone I used to work with. Was it only this week?

better than a mastercard commercial, hey

Today we dedicate the day to catelin, for she so generously made it possible for me to once again experience the great American emotion that is pride in one's big-ass car. I can't stress enough how much I love my car. It makes me inordinately happy, and I want to drive people around for the first time ever. Wish that some of my far flung friends could make their way down to Texas from New York and California and Germany just so I could drive them to Sonic and through these windy Hill Country roads.

Thanks to my car, I went to the grocery store today to purchase some food stuffs and cleaning supplies. The kitchen is now scrubbed down. I realized while cleaning that I tend to gravitate to tasks that require scrubbing, and dealing with hard surfaces. The thought of vacuuming the living room makes me want to hide. I think one day I'll have to live in a home all made of tiles and stone and glass and metal, just to make the cleaning easier on my brain.

Showering after cleaning is the best feeling. Ahh.

One broom to replace the one your friend broke beating a pinata at the last party: $5.99

Windex Orange cleaner to scrub the beer brewing stains off the kitchen counter: $2.44

Citrus sherbet for relaxing after cleaning: $2.18

Knowing you can drive yourself to any store at any hour, in your own car: Priceless.

truth

A staff reporter for The New York Times committed frequent acts of journalistic fraud while covering significant news events in recent months, an investigation by Times journalists has found. The widespread fabrication and plagiarism represent a profound betrayal of trust and a low point in the 152-year history of the newspaper.

The article is mammoth and amazing, yet for all the detail there are pieces missing. Just what made this man go to these lengths to do what he did? Journalism is an intensive labor, but it seems as if walking this tightrope of deception would be even more difficult. What? Why? Who are you Mr. Blair and why did you do this?

The very same technology that gives us the power to spread information, to expose the truth also allows that information to be twisted and the truth concealed. I am vividly reminded of the first three issues of Transmetropolitan when Spider Jerusalem comes back down off the mountain to write again. There's a scene where he's writing and his words go live on the screens all over the city, and it's so damned eloquent and true that it stops what is happening. And even though he's beaten by the police afterwards for it, and it doesn't cause an overall change, it's something. I was standing on the LX Express, turning onto Jollyville road when I read that part, and I remember the late afternoon sun going down, the grooves of the floor, the tears sliding down my face and into the collar of my shirt.

If there was ever something I wanted to believe in more than myself, it would be the idea that truth can change the world and that people can choose to be better than they are.