I like it when I go to a bash terminal window and press my up arrow to browse through my command history, and find this:
oooo888888888ooobhhhhhhgggggggggfggggh0j;;;
because it means my three-year-old has been hacking around this place.
Pinochet: que en paz no descance
El general Pinochet, asesino corrupto, ha muerto. Que en paz no descance.
Es de veras angustiante que tanta gente siga elogiándolo como si fuera un héroe, y que justifiquen las muertes, torturas y desapariciones en aras del libre mercado y la lucha contra la subversión.
A mi modo de ver, la gran aportación de Pinochet no fue intenciónal de su parte. Su caso marca un hito en la evolución del derecho internacional y de los derechos humanos. Claro que es una pena que la muerte lo haya salvado, y que no haya sido condenado a cadena perpetua. Pero los precedentes legales, tal como la aplicación de la doctrina de jurisdicción internacional, puede que sirvan para enjuiciar a otros criminales como Bush, Cheney y Rumsfeld. No te rías. Los tiempos están cambiando. La impunidad ya no se puede dar por sentada.
In Praise of Shrinkdom
Psychotherapy is fundamentally a Good Thing. Here’s the essential reason why, in my humble lay opinion: There is no other way to unload your problems to somebody who is (1) professionally bound to keep his mouth shut; (2) is trained and paid to listen, truly shut the fuck up and listen; (3) is nonjudgemental and reasonably objective, having no dog in your fight, and yet (4) has your best interests in mind. There’s no civilian that you know personally who can meet these criteria, because whoever knows you and your life personally is thereby involved in it, and can’t be objective.
What’s the downside? Let’s see, there’s the expense. No small consideration, depending on how shitty your insurance is and how pricey your shrink.
What else? Oh yeah, I almost forgot: the stigma. I know a several people who assert that they’ve never been to a shrink but think they could benefit from one. So you ask them why don’t they go ahead and do it and they’re like, gee, I don’t know, too busy, not hurting bad enough. Maybe so, or maybe a bullshit rationalization. If it’s the latter, the likely true reason, IMHO, is that they are deterred by embarrassment, shame and stigma, even when they are in or close to a subculture in which being shrunk is supposedly no big deal, indeed almost de rigueur like some other hot consumer product. I think a lot of people are embarrassed to pick up the phone or hit a find-a-shrink website. Or maybe it’s painful to admit to yourself that there is more on your plate than you care to handle alone. So Step One, if you fit this description, is Get Over It. It’s nobody’s business but your own, so fuck ’em and go do what you gotta do to take proper care of yourself. No one should expect you to govern the People’s Republic of You without at least one good professional advisor on your payroll.
Step Two may be more challenging than Step One: find a good one. Finding one that is both good and good for you may require some patience. You are the employer and they work for you, so keep auditioning shrinks until you find one with whom you feel completely comfortable. Some shrinks are a lot more equal than others, and one essential requirement is that they be your intellectual equal or superior. You are going to be having a lot of deep conversations with this person and if you aren’t on the same wavelength in this regard, it ain’t gonna work.
Once you hook up, make sure your expectations are appropriate. Shrinkdom isn’t a panacea. It is, at a minimum, a chance to unload your woes for a little while in a way that is clean and harmless. At best, it is a way to come to a deeper understanding of what the fuck’s up, which might actually turn out to be helpful.
August 2006
This is the one blog that emphasizes quality over quantity — usually. This entry is the exception to the rule, because I felt I had to blog something in the month of August lest an entire month go by with no blogging.
Blogging is for self-indulgent egomaniacs, and losers with nothing better to do than sit in front of their computer on a Saturday night at 11:08 pm drinking beer in solitude… no wait. Nevermind.
If we could sell our surplus virility…
Whenever I see a commercial for one of those “lifestyle” drugs like Viagra, the greedy entreprenuerial instinct in me laments the fact that there is no way for me to package and sell my surplus virility to those poor fools who are overpaying for Viagra. I would be more than happy NOT to be awoken at 4:00 a.m. with a throbbing erection, especially if I could sell that hard-on to someone who needs it. My imaginary product would be cheaper than Viagra and come without the risk of ghastly side-effects like priapism. It would be a win for everybody: more peaceful sleep for me, more fun for my customers and whomever they in turn are entertaining. Damn.
overseeing the what?
I heard a snippet on NPR this morning in which they were saying something about “increasing the oversight of the [Bush administration’s] warrantless wiretapping program.” You have to wonder if the whoever wrote that sentence intended it as ironic. I thought oversight was the whole point of the seeking of warrants from the judicial branch.
First shit in three days
See, this is why you need to have a blog. So you can announce to the breathlessly waiting world important news such as this: I took my first shit in three fucking days this morning. Hats off to my dear wife for pushing the Citrucel at me. Not that I needed convincing. What brought on this bout of constipation, you are dying to know? Fuck if I know. I did nothing different; been following my customary fruit- and vegetable-rich diet, with the usual alcohol abuse on the weekends. Maybe it’s comes with the territory when you are pushing fifty years of age. Anyway, I am glad the discomfort is over and I know you share my relief.
Media circle-jerk around the corpse of al-Zarqawi
So the US has wacked Abu Musab al-Zarqawi. Big deal. Judging from the media circle-jerk around his corpse, you would think this meant peace, democracy and stability were at hand. Let’s wait and see whether the bloodbath continues. My money is on the carnage.
multitasking, monotasking, nulltasking
People often speak of multitasking to refer to things like, talking on the phone and taking a dump and reading a magazine all at the same time. I am not so sure anyone has introduced a term to refer to a sort of failed multitasking that happens all the time. You’re talking on the phone to somebody, having a reasonably linear conversation, when suddenly the other party says “damn, what does this dick want from me now?” And you’re like, huh? “Oh nothing I’m just looking at my email.” That isn’t multitasking, it’s monotasking. The person whom you were talking to was talking to you, then he wasn’t, then he was.
It gets better. I’m in the kitchen preparing dinner and turn away from the counter, walk two and a half steps to the refrigerator, open it, and — the screen goes blank. No, my friends, I don’t merely forget why I opened the refrigerator. I forget it all, including my name and any notion of time or place or purpose in this universe. Everything comes to a complete halt, a perfect stillness. Yes, I suppose certain involuntary bio-activities like breathing and circulation are still carrying on. But for all practical intents and purposes, this is nulltasking.
Paxil increases suicide risk — so?
The New York Times reports that “after analyzing data from clinical trials, GlaxoSmithKline has sent letters to doctors warning that its antidepressant drug Paxil appears to increase the risk of suicide attempts in some young adults.” Why is that a problem? Doesn’t suicide cure depression?