Funny how people wince when they lose an illusion, and how the phrase “he disillusioned me” is a complaint and accusation. It’s not like there’s not an infinite supply of illusions, is it? I suppose they’re like warts, you get used to them, and some forms of removal are painful.

The Coming War with Iraq

Stop me if you’ve seen this.

[via kd]

Posted by in Feral Living



Physiotherapy, physiotherapy, physiotherapy
that’s what they wanna give me (repeat)
Gamma is a brat, Ollie is a cat
Beat on dad with a baseball bat
oh-oh, oh-oh, yeah.
Physiotherapy, physiotherapy, physiotherapy,
that’s what they wanna give me (repeat)
Can’t even take off my shirt
Must be from digging all that dirt
Now lifting weights sure hurts
oh-oh, oh-oh, yeah.
Physiotherapy, etc etc.

[© 2002 The Pinworms]

There are days

There are days fit for Anner Bylsma playing Bach concertos on a Stradivarius cello from the collection of the Smithsonian. And there are days for the Ramones. Today is a day when I wish there were a band called the Pinworms who played the Ramones on cello.

Living in a nice place

There was a grape festival in a nearby town this weekend. It was a sunny, crisp fall day, shortly before lunch. They had stands set up, and picnic tables along the banks of the Danube. Alpha and the girls went for a ride on a horse cart; I saved their places at our table and drank white wine.

Drinking wine before lunch is a bad idea. On the one hand it was wonderful, sitting there, sipping the wine, watching the clouds roll by, and the river roll by; listening to conversations, mulling over the similarity between the words for to fly (fliegen) on the one hand and to flow (fliessen), which led me to think about phrases like “fight or flight” as if there were only the two alternatives, when you could always add at least a third – “fight or flight or go with the flow”… which led me to think about how we’re so often presented with just two “opposite” alternatives as if we only had those two, when in fact the pallette is more varied than that…

eventually I was in love with the day and the town and everyone, thanking the Romans and Celts for the wine. Then the women returned and got some food in me. Then I tried to tell them about the brilliant thoughts I’d had, but couldn’t remember. Later we went home and I took a nap.

I still can’t remember the brilliant things, and am beginning to suspect what you’ve probably already figured out.

But I did want to tell you about “Schulz”. This seems to be a new thing here with the kids. Beta taught it to her little sister, and then they taught it to us. It works like this: make a fist, only stick out your thumb and little finger, like some kind of gang gesture. When someone belches, you say “Schulz” and hold your hand to your forehead, back of hand to forehead, thumb down, little finger up. The last person to say “Schulz” gets a noogie, or whacked in the head, or whatever.

Even Alpha does it now.