Monthly Archives: July 2012

Not with a bang, but a whimper.

The decision to quit this particular type of writing caused me a bit more sadness than I’d anticipated, a lot more relief than I’d imagined, and the sweetest rush of ideas I’ve experienced in years. I’m excited and scared, but I am totally at peace. I can’t do this anymore. While the direction of our country is of utmost importance to us and our children — especially our children — I’m going to let others debate the excruciating minutiae. I hate that particular aspect of punditry. I hate punditry. I hate sucking up to assholes and weirdos in the hopes that I’ll get a good word put in for me.

There have been a lot of disappointments behind the scenes, as well as more than a few wonderful surprises. And the people who keep coming back here — I couldn’t ask for a better, less creepy group of intelligent, considerate people. You tHG regulars are the best readers any blogger could hope for.

You will know where to find me. I’ll be seeing you all soon.

I think I’m done.

I don’t want to write this, but I think it’s appropriate. I think I’m done blogging, at least in this capacity. I guess it’s not a big surprise, but I hate to make it official, because it’s an end. But I don’t like doing it enough. It doesn’t fulfill me creatively, and ultimately, that’s all that matters. This particular venue isn’t taking me anywhere, mostly because I don’t want it enough. I don’t want to chase that particular phantom. I’m made to write other things, and I am going to pursue them. Even if I never get published or legitimized or make a single cent, I think I’ll be happier this way.

So I’m going to write a book. Maybe three. They may never see the light of day, but they will be mine. I’m 35; I’ve got to start doing what I’ve so longed dreamed of doing. Like that episode of Seinfeld, after Elaine hires Newman to kidnap the yapping dog, “I’ve got to make some changes. I’m not a woman; I’m a child,” so too is it for me. (As a movie based on a comic book plays as background noise at my house.) There are things I want to do and I’m not doing them. I’m distracted from distraction by distraction. I want to train harder at CrossFit; I want to write things.

Politics is not for me, I’m afraid. It’s too pointless, its logic too circular, its connections too incestuous. I am not built to tolerate such things.

Don’t worry, I’ll be around.

Clutter-clearing and a little catch up.

Hello children. Compounding my ennui situation was the fact that my laptop finally stopped limping along and became next to useless. Yay. So Mr. HG was kind enough to allow me to use one of his indefinitely. So double yay. (For real this time.)

I guess we need to catch up. Yes, this ennui situation seems to have become a permanent one, but I have been reading the most delicious pulp novel from the 1950′s (or ’60′s — I can’t remember right now). It’s called Black Wings Has My Angel and it seems to be some kind of crime caper. I love it. It was only $0.99 at the Kindle store, which makes it even better.

Let’s see, I’ve been working out more consistently, which really makes me incredibly happy. I beat a personal record in the strict press, and topped out at 80lbs this week. My clean did not fair so well, and though I may have swore rather too loudly and possibly flipped off an inanimate object, I have survived. Somehow.

Facebook has become real to me again, and I can once again communicate with people I don’t often see and would actually like to talk to. I also have had a headache all evening and I’m not all that impressed with it.

If I have a male friend who might need some new clothes for dating purposes, how do I get him to go shopping with me? How do I explain my intent? Oh, like this: “Hey, male friend with the name that begins with N and who may have had pizza with me last night, let’s go shopping.” I’m sure your other friends’ wives do stranger things.

All right, I need to do some other things in the real world, but I will be back. You should see the size of this keyboard! No more netbooks for me!

Did I tell you how I felt about The Avengers yet? I can’t remember the last time I blogged about a movie. I recently revisited Thor as well, as I’ve got a little thing for Loki, which sent me back into the Norse mythology archives. It had been awhile since I picked up the Prose Edda, so it’s been like a brand new adventure.

I like adventures.

I love you all. Well, only the ones who have stuck around. The rest of you suck.

I’ve been Facebooking a lot.

Having a new picture up makes me want to write stuff.

Shut your fat mouth.

I am so tired of all the food nazism out there. Fatties, “white people,” and Christians are the last fair game, the only acceptable groups against which one can be prejudiced. Fat white Christians — the trifecta of hatred chic!

Here’s the thing about “fat” people — most of the people the medical-governmental-industrial complex is calling fat weren’t fat a decade ago, even if they haven’t gained or lost a pound in the last ten years. We’re moving the goalposts, and there are a lot of reasons why. Most of them are revolve around money and control.

Are there a lot of unhealthy people out there? Yep. Are all of them fat? Nope. Skinny is also unhealthy. We should be focusing on health, not scale numbers, but that’s too complicated a concept for most activists out there. They’d have to actually think about things before they started shaming people. We are priming our kids for a lifetime of severely disordered thinking about food, which will not look good in a decade or two. Who am I kidding? It doesn’t look good now.

Not to mention the control exerted over parents by a single-payer healthcare system that dictates when a child is “healthy” or “unhealthy” by an arbitrary set of numbers.

This is such a layered issue, with eco-nazism, classism, racism, and anti-capitalism all playing a part. It’s pissing me off.

I have to move.

We’re idiots.


How do we atone for this?


There are many things I love about Israel — Israeli food is my first culinary love, and I love the way Hebrew sounds — but I think that the complexity of her history, the tenacity of her people, and the determination to maintain her humanity while fiercely defending and avenging her people are the qualities that captivate me the most.

And each year that passes sees the deaths of her brave, often unsung warriors. Their stories need to be told, as much as the Holocaust survivors’ stories do.

There is no way to revel in death and maintain one’s humanity, and I think that collectively, Israel has maintained hers.


This is beautiful. George W may have been a flawed president, (but how bad does he look compared to the joker we’ve got in office now?) but he is a lovely, compassionate, wonderful human being. And Laura is all class, gentleness and goddessy goodness.


He lives compassion, and his faith is real. I love this guy.

For the record,

Brad Pitt’s mama is right about Christians voting for Romney: Christians who’ve got problems with Romney solely because he’s a Mormon are not thinking clearly. Whatever one’s feelings on Mormonism, their morality dovetails with the morality of Christians all over the country. When I worked for the Arizona GOP in 2003-2004, the Mormon politicians were a joy to work with. Those guys were not cheating, lying or stealing. They actually believed that they could make a difference, and were determined to do so. They take their roles as Church ambassadors very, very seriously. And they’re pleasant to the low-level staff, like the assistant to the events coordinator.

If only Christian politicians held themselves to the same standards. Knowing that Romney is a Mormon tells me that he is a man of integrity and principle. Which is comforting, to tell the truth.

As for Jane Pitt’s “anti-gay-ness” — leave her alone.