Ballotpedia

If you're like me, you're a last-minute citizen when it comes to some local elections and ballot measures. I vote and I try to remain educated, but I usually find myself "cramming" the night before I go to the polls to try to figure out what exactly is on the ballot and where I stand about the initiatives. In California, in particular, I've been challenged because we seem to vote so often. (In Wisconsin, if you know where you stand on Indian gaming rights and spear fishing, you've pretty much covered 75% of the initiatives in any given year.)

So today I came across this new wiki on elections, Ballotpedia, and it looks like it's going to be a real boon for me. I've only just glanced at it, but I was impressed enough to pass it along. Tip o' the hat to Resource Shelf, which remains one of my favorite sources for discovering new online goodies.

The Kakistocracy goes to the Olympics

Words escape me.

(Thanks to Chris for the image.)

Moving pictures! GYWO goes animated

Get Your War On is now an animated series on 236.com. Yippee. I was going to embed the first episode here, but it doesn't want to embed, so here's the link. Some day I will return to blogging that involves something more than "hey, look at this," but in the meantime, you can check out my post today on Metblogs about the reading I went to Saturday if you're really yearning for some yapping from yours truly.

Site of the day

A sent this link to me with a note that said, "That this made me laugh out loud is indicative of degree of pms, I think."

Oh yes.

It's hard to imagine that malaise and homocidal tendencies can coexist so well in one body, and yet...

Headline of the day

Beijing takes dog off the menu for Olympics

Best music video ever

Zombies, twinkies, and Soviet posters--what more could you possibly want?


GORBACHOV: THE MUSIC VIDEO - BIGGER AND RUSSIANER from Tom Stern on Vimeo.

What are you here for?

(From Kent Nichols)

In honor of Independence Day, an oldie of mine:

Break-up Poem for America
(with apologies to Walt Whitman)

Oh America, you sad failed experiment,
It was lovely while it lasted.

People tried to warn me
They said that you were faithless
Professing everything
Remembering nothing
Fueled by lust and self interest
Always afraid of commitment

They said you were heartless
At your worst, you were violent
Your sweetest words coming
Just after the black eyes and broken jaws.

But I loved you anyway.
I thought they were jealous of us, America
You were young and impulsive
This time it would be different, I told myself

Because I could see the wild beauty
In your grain fields and skyscrapers
Your railroads and ballot boxes
Plates of hominy and cowboy boots
Even your corruption

I remember the good times
Shay's rebellion and the liberty tree
The New Deal
Apollo Eleven
Woodstock
You were the cool rebel
But I knew you would protect me
I dreamed we could go anywhere together

We did have our moments
Even as the firehoses blasted blacks
Marching for a seat at the front of the bus
You told me about the view from the mountain top
And I could see it then

It's been tough between us, America
But I always believed your promises
That you would settle down to your responsibilities
As you got older
Try to love your huddled masses
And it is hard to contain multitudes
I told myself

But it's been bad for so long now
Watergate
Iran Contra
Florida, Ohio
Guantanamo
There's nothing left to believe in

You've watered the tree of liberty
With the blood of so many patriots
The soil can't hold the roots
And it's a truism:
The ones who can't keep plants alive
Make lousy marriage material

I have to finally admit
It’s over between us.
I tried, America
I really did
But in the end, it just didn't work out
And I don't think we can still be friends
Because it's not me; it's you.

There but for the grace of the universe...

My day's dose of gratitude.

Site of the Day

I know it's been two weeks since I have posted a peep here and I should be giving up something more meaty than a site of the day post, and for that I do apologize people. But life has been super busy and I was sick as a dog last week. So those are my excuses. In the meantime, enjoy Will's turtle cam. The time lapse video of Buster and the nomming is totally great.

Site of the day

Thank you Jay Bushman

Five songs that always make me happy

So the other day I was in one of those moods where I was once again wishing for my as-yet unrealized superpower--the ability to strangle people from across the room. I was on my way to run errands at lunch (picking up probiotics for my insanely high maintanence cat, if you must know) and it was all I could do not to just ram into the Lexus in front of me when it was too slow off the green. And then the Bad Brains "Pay to Cum" came on the stereo and *snap* like that the day got better. And that got me thinking about the songs that, no matter what, never fail to fill me with joy, joy, joy. Top three:
Bad Brains: Pay to Cum
The Damned: New Rose
Black Flag: Nervous Breakdown

Never fails--no matter how crappy I'm feeling, when those songs come on, I get a little restored (to what I can't say exactly).

It goes to my theory of congenital punkness I think. To some people, it's angry, upsetting music; to those who are congenitally punk, it's come-in-off-the-ledge music.

Of course, as I'm blogging this, I'm listening to Leonard Cohen, so there's a severe disjunct going on in my brain, but whatever. I've never claimed consistency as a strong character trait.

Update: It's been called to my attention (thank you, Bob and Colin) that while the post title says "five" I've only listed three joy-inspiring songs. I think what happened is that I started with the idea that I would list five, but it gets harder after those first three. Wire's entire Pink Flag album is a contender, as are any number of Gang of Four songs (yes, including "Love a Man in a Uniform") and all of Killing Jokes' first album and What's this For. I used to have a complete school girl crush on Stiff Little Fingers and so whenever I hear them, I revisit the best parts of being 15. And I'm not ashamed to admit I always sing along with those Grand Master Flash hits from the 80s.

So I don't know folks. I'm just not as sure of those last two to round out the greatest five, but for now, I'll say "Annalisa" by PiL (which I know is a perverse and weird choice but that song never fails to make me smile) and Xray Spex "Oh Bondage Up Yours!" is a fav because who doesn't love the punk rock sax?

Site of the day

Great Photographers on the Internet

(Thank you Conor)

Site of the day

Scary stuff:
Via BoingBoing:

Bodies

I grew up thinking about my body as a large inconvenient container upon which to carry my brain around, and while I've largely made piece with the container, even grown fond of it, at times it's just a big obnoxious machine. This week, I am plagued by bodies. First, there is my own, which been subject to a severe case of vertigo for about a week now. It is better today thanks mostly to doing precious little save sleep yesterday. But life is still a little rocky and rolly. It was so bad Monday that I went to urgent care after losing my train of thought at work and then getting anxious about not being able to focus, which then led to a minor anxiety attack, causing my brain to shut down even further. At least, that's what I figure happened. At the time it just felt like I was having some major cognitive malfunction.

Waited in urgent care for almost three hours, saw the doctor for maybe seven minutes. He prescribed sea sickness medication, which I'm now taking four times a day. I think it's helping. Certainly it is making me tired and giving me the worst cotton mouth I've had since quitting drugs.

Then I took Nic the cat to the vet yesterday and found out he has diabetes. Truly, that is better than the alternative diagnosis I'd worked out for him which was kidney disease, but it still means he has to go on a restricted diet, shed about 40% of his body weight, and get insulin shots twice a day. So yes, I was in Walgreens last night on a minor nod, with total cotton mouth, buying a box of syringes. Fun.

None of it is the end of the world. The vertigo will subside eventually; I have faith. And Nic the cat is in good hands. I'll do my best by him. But sheesh. Stupid bodies. As I have mentioned before, mine clearly came with a forty year warranty.

Overheard at the Getty

Man One: You used to see so much new age stuff. People wearing pyramids on their heads and such.
Man Two: But not so much any more?
Man One: Not any more. You know what's really popular in LA right now? What's really popular is Kabbalah.
Man Two: Well people need something to believe in.
Man One: How about reality?

Happy birthday to my blog

I just realized that last week was this blog's fourth birthday. [I'm sorry, I just can't make myself type something beginning "blog" and ending "versary." Eradicate ugly neologisms!] That means it's also the fourth anniversary of my PhD-hood. I started this blog immediately upon finishing the PhD because the thought of life without feeling guilty because "I should be writing ______" was too much to bear. (For those of you still in the grad school life, I offer one of my favorite posts, Top ten reasons blogging beats writing a dissertation. Screenwriting bloggers might appreciate it as well.)

I blogged pretty randomly and occasionally until November 2004 at which point political outrage took over and I started blogging all the fucking time. I guess Bush was good for something after all.

Now I'm at a point where I'm tired of ceaseless political blogging. I get my dander or despair up from time to time, but in general I'm just tired of posting the same things over and over. I feel like I need autotext entries that say: "Oh and by the way, the government is making a mockery of the Constitution," or "Did anyone else notice how stupid the President is?" or "Gosh, that guy/woman really is a facist."

I have mildly resisted blogging about myself a lot for a variety of reasons--first, who the hell cares, and second, who the hell cares? But I seem to be doing more of that lately and when A's mom died a handful of people got in touch with me after reading that entry so I am now aware that at least four people care at least some of the time.

I guess that's a long way of saying the focus here is evolving a little and after six years in LA perhaps the transition from Washingtonian to Angeleno is complete and I will now write more about Me! Me! Me! and lament less about Them, Them, Them. We shall see.

In the meantime, yeah, happy birthday to my blog.

(The birthday cake eating child has nothing to do with me whatsoever. It's kk+'s image used through a Creative Commons license.)

Morning video pleasure

I love cheese rolling. I really do.

bad timing

XKCD has been pretty brilliant lately. First the Stove Ownership comic, now this one, which totally spoke to me.

"The years teach us much which the days never know"

A's mom died last night. I am on a plane to DC tomorrow. The funeral will be Tuesday. I have cried more today than I care to in a month. I am so sad for A and her sister--the whole family of course, but especially A and J. For me the death of my mother was The Primal Loss--like the Platonic Ideal of loss, where everything else, every other particular loss was a facsimile or a shadow of that one. It's an entirely different thing to be motherless in the world.

And of course, I'm emotionally reminded of my own late teens when I thought grief would just swallow me. It felt unsurvivable. I truly don't know how A managed to stay friends with me through my parents' illnesses and my rage and sorrow and self-centered death-wish years. I know she wasn't the picture of mental health herself, but surely there were easier friends to have than me. After my mom died I could barely feed myself. If it weren't for A I don't know what would have become of me.

I remember the night that horrible summer that my high school boyfriend broke up with me. My despair was crushing. And here's the thing: It's not like I was so damn in love with him. But he was a way to be somewhere other than in that house. He would come pick me up and we'd go downtown and drink ourselves into sweet oblivion, a paradise compared to the present reality. I came home and called A's house even though it was around midnight. Her dad answered and I couldn't even speak. I just cried into the phone and he put A on. She just said, "Are you home? I'll be right there." I went outside to wait for her but I had already woken my mother. I was on the front step just weeping, disconsolate. And my mother comes to the door and sees me so upset and starts crying. "I wish there was a way I could make this less hard on you," she says. (And here let me say that while my mother was not exactly mother of the year most of the time, this memory still astonishes me for what it says about her capacity to love and her particular love for me--to be so selfless that you wish your terminal bone cancer was not so hard on your daughter. No greater love.) Anyway, so A came and she had a bottle of tequila in her trunk and I sat in her car and cried and drank every drop. Thank god we do not have to do any of these things twice--be teenagers, bury our parents, bottom out on drugs...

I'm really grateful I could find a flight and that I have the best job in the world that will not just let me miss a three-day meeting off-site but encourage me to go support my friend and say goodbye to her mom.