catatac

So there I was, watching "Good Night, and Good Luck." ....

I tried to like it. I did. But I was just bored to tears. I was thinking I was going to learn something about American History, or at least rehash stuff I wasn't paying attention to in 11th grade. But apparently I still have the same problem. As much as I'd like to think I'm interested in history, I'm really not. It bothers me. My disinterest in history, media and politics may not necessarily doom me to repeat it, but it's yet another wet blanket on the dwindling campfire that is my social life.
See, on the 4th of July I went to my friends' house and was pretty jazzed because this guy had been invited who is an actual rocket scientist. A solar astrophysicist to be more precise. He's 27 and he has just gotten his PhD from somewhere back east. Damn. Ok, so I don't feel like quite such a genius but I'll bet he'll be interesting to talk to. Well, he's also, I believe, a practicing Communist. As in he lived in a commune and is fully involved in a nationwide organization supporting the Revolution and the arming of the unwashed masses. He was speaking so passionately. In fact, anyone there was hard pressed to get him to talk about anything BUT politics. And that's great that he's so well-versed in subversive politics and so passionate, because god knows the world needs more people who give a shit. I wish I was one of those people. I am a Defeatist.
Ever since 9/11, I've paid very scant attention to politics and world affairs. At first it was because of the 100% saturation it garnered. I'm a fragile human, I was trying to survive on $180 a week living in Hollywood and as far as I was concerned, there were more important things than buying patriotic stickers for my gas-sucking 'Stang or watching Bush's monkey face go on about the Axis of Evil. Plus I was writing for a rock rag at the time and the readers were PISSED because the editor was a smelly ex-hippie-turned-asshole-hipster and a total conspiracy theorist. He'd sit in his office smoking weed all day (not offering any, might I add) and scan the Internot for anti-Bush garbage, which very quickly began to outnumber the number of pages devoted to music.
Basically I'd had enough. So I turned off the tv and refused to read the paper.
Maybe a year later I tried to pay attention again. The was such a plethora of information, I felt lost in a sea of lies and half-truth and theories. At which point I decided that I wasn't going to believe anything anyone says, because everyone only reports what they want to believe anyway. Can't trust the Internet. Certainly can't trust Fox. Everyone has fingers in someone else's deep pockets. Fuck it all. So now, I realize I am not, nor might I ever be part of the solution. So if I must be part of the problem, I will at least be silent. I live my life the way I see fit, which may or may not include the "duties" of being a citizen of the US. I am a political hermit.
This is not to say that I would'nt ***** the bastard president if I ever had the chance. I sure would. Nor does it mean I do not support the swift termination of Saddam and that fat guy with the beard killed recently (although I feel no patriotic pride in seening his bloated face all over the morning paper.) Kill 'em all, I don't care. If it's far from my ass I won't sit on it.
"But the decisions you allow the government to make by chosing not to be involved WILL affect you in the long run..." That it may. But the bastard won by cheating in the first place, and he hasn't once listened to any one of us he supposedly represents. And yeah, it has affected my life. I can't look at the pretty, gory, pictures here at SG anymore. Bastard causing me minor erotic annoyances. I simply do not see the payoff. I do not see the world becoming a better place because I stood up and complained. No one will listen.

So I turned the movie off in favor of Abbot and Costello in "Africa Screams". Ha. A guy in a monkey suit. Just like the news. Can anyone tell me if "Good Night and Good Luck" gets any better after the first 30 minutes?

I think I smoked my last cigarette tonight. Well, I KNOW I smoked my last cigarette tonight, the box is empty. I mean for good. Well, a while anyway. It's one of those things that, I don't know why I do it. I've always been able to pick them up and put them down. I never really crave a cigarette. I was up to a pack a day for about a year in L.A. and I stopped when I came to SD. I was no longer angry all the time. Since I went camping I've been smoking regularly as a social thing, or else while I'm in the car with the windows down and rocking out like the world's biggest douchebag...it just seems appropriate. But come on now. Part of the appeal was the "Cool" of the smokers in the 40's and 50's. Everyone smoked and it looked sexy. It still looks sexy on some people, as long as you don't think about how dumb it really is. And I don't think it really does anything to make me look cool. So I guess I'll stop. Plus it makes me stink. And kind of nauseated.

So back to the my social inadequacies, this time due to lack of socio-politcal awareness...it sucked. I was there with a PhD, one with a Masters, and two with their BS's. And then there's me. Going back to school, yet again.
But still miles behind the conversation. I was contented to listen. But I was asked for my opinion and froze. Thank god my friend interjected and saved face for me. I owe him one.

Stupid stoner girl.

It's probably not that big a deal. I don't normally hang out with Dr. Pinko McAstrophysics. But in the event that I happen to meet one, it'd be nice to have something to say. Seriously, I sat there mute for like 4 hours while this guy talked a mile a minute about important things I don't care about. Meh. Whatever.

I could tell him all about....[10 minutes have passed as I reflect on my inner database]...stuff.....
Shit, I don't know jack about shit, come to think of it. I know a little bit about a LOT of stuff, but I'm no expert, and I certainly don't know anything of any thinky, ethereal, existential importance. Whatever. I swear some people just like to hear themselves weave inescapable afghans of gobbeldegook.

In other news I started a new painting:



Not sure about the face or the background. It's in oil, which is something I have virtually no experience with. How many years does this shit take to dry?

I'm also getting bits together to start up a sideline illustration business. Anyone have any good exercises to get creative juices flowing?

Speaking of exercise, it's time I started. The last two days I've done my obligatory 30 mins a day, but I need to step it up a little. Wishing it wasn't so fucking hot. But if it weren't I'm sure there'd be another excuse. I'm jsut happy being sedentary. Unfortuately, I can't just get up an strip the fat suit when I want to. And this tour is an excellent superficial reason to get in shape. I have 3.5 months to do so. Get. The fuck. On it.

That...was an enormoose entry.