13 October 2002
You know, when I said the Twins only had to win one in Anaheim, I didn't mean for that to be an upper bound. But at least the Cards pulled their Little League butts out of the fire. What a horrible game that was, mostly in the first few innings.
Anyway. Um, hi. Baseball. Yep.
Other recurring motifs yesterday: books. Italian food.
I think there are far, far worse things to have recurring than that. Timprov, for example, had "pain" as a recurring motif. Possibly even a theme. Italian food is much better. Especially when it has portobellos in it. Yum.
So I read Zed's copy of Pain Free, and I have a very mixed reaction to it thus far. There were a few times when the author seemed to overstate his case or...I'm not sure what to call it. He went on for about a page and a half about how absolutely nuts it drives him when people blame weak ankles for ankle and tendon injuries. Then he said the cause was...um...weak ankles. He made a decent follow-up point -- that exercising muscles in isolation did not, in his wide and varied experience, help with a system that was out of whack. So his method of curing weak ankles was significantly different than the standard. But it seemed like poor rhetoric at the very least to do it that way.
On the other hand, I don't really care about how well or poorly he writes the book if the little exercise dealies he gives work. I did the ones in the foot chapter, just to see what they were like, even though my feet don't hurt. My feet now feel nice. So we'll see about the rest, I'll give it a try -- I wasn't reading the thing for its fabulous prose.
A lot of his stuffs were similar to my yoga stuffs. So. (Incidentally, the Yoga.Com page kills me -- the headings of "enlighten," "connect," and...um..."shop." Ah, the three great principles!)
I read Thunder and Lightning, and I think for the first time, I finished a Natalie Goldberg book without having an increased desire to do freewrites. I think that's because I have a tickling desire to do freewrites pretty much all the time lately, but for some reason don't get around to it very much. Forgive me, Karina, for I have sinned. It has been five days since my last freewrite....
And I read Cosmonaut Keep, which was so typical of Ken MacLeod it almost could have been a parody of him. Almost. It's kind of a near thing, self-parody. Which is not to say I didn't enjoy it, although the ending was moderately unsatisfying to me. I'll probably read more MacLeod on our trip, though, as we have the entire first series sitting around here. I've started another library book, Michelle West's The Broken Crown. It should keep me entertained, and if it doesn't, back it goes. A little variety, a little light escapism.
Ah well. Earlier this week, Evan sent me a link to a crazy orthodox Objectivist rant that came a hair's breadth from calling Lessig a commie, among other things. It argued for copyright extensions and assumed that any use of a work was THEFT, THEFT!!! Evan wrote to me to ask how much in the mainstream of libertarianism that was.
Leaving aside the idea of whether libertarianism is a wide enough river to have a mainstream right now, I just shook my head at all of the stupid assumptions. I hope it's a minority opinion among libertarians, because it's just plain dumb -- and Evan did find another several posts and letters pointing out the obvious flaws, straw men, and poorly used high school debate techniques. The thing that got me, though, was how hung up on totally new ideas these Objectivists were. (Because, hey, nobody had ever written a fat philosophical novel before Ayn Rand, right? That was a totally new idea. Mark described Rand as the Piers Anthony of libertarianism, and I think that's pretty accurate. Timprov wanted to go for Moorcock -- pretentious and overly sure of her own amazing creative and philosophical powers -- but I'd have to note that Rand's sales don't seem to have dropped off that much.) Long digression. Totally new ideas. Right. It's no longer enough to come up with an interesting, funny, or clever twist -- if your idea has any bearing that anyone can recognize on previous ideas, you have done a bad, stupid, uncreative thing. Bah. Silly people.
Other people have talked sensibly and at length about copyright extensions and other problems -- for example, here's a really sensible editorial that points out yet another way in which use and theft don't have to be the same. Use and preservation are a lot closer to synonyms than they are to opposites.
But, as Mark said, if Disney wasn't still getting the royalties from "Steamboat Willie," how on earth would they fund their daring new cutting-edge projects? Did you ever ask yourself that?
In less than half an hour, I'm going to get in the shower and get dressed for church. And I'm going to wear one of the same things I've worn many, many times. Because that's all I do lately. I don't want to go for a long clothes shopping expedition -- we don't have the money, and I hate buying clothes. But I wish it was just a little easier to find -- say it with me now -- clothes that fit. I know I've said this before, but I'll say it again, especially since we're going into fall and winter, and I'm going to have to wear my fall and winter clothes. It's easier for me in the summer -- shorts and short skirts that don't quite fit can be worn low on the hips, and if a little bit shows between top and bottoms, well, that's not that uncommon. But I'm not tall enough to wear long pants low on the hips unless they're designed to be worn that way, and I just can't seem to make anything fit. And clothes that don't fit are not flattering. They're just not. Some clothes that are not fitted are flattering, but that's a different matter entirely. And, frankly, more fitted clothes tend to be more flattering to me. I just don't get to buy them. The Land's End custom-made jeans are wonderful, and I could get them to do custom khakis for me, but that's a rather limited repertoire and doesn't address dresses or skirts at all.
I should just get out my uncut books of paperdolls. All of their clothes fit them. (I seriously think of doing this from time to time when I'm worrying too much. I waffle on it -- sometimes I think I'll save them for a little one to enjoy, because paper dolls that have already been cut are just not nearly as much fun. But sometimes I think, well, heck with that, it'll be years, I can buy more, and the little beasts probably won't like paperdolls anyway, they'll be "Mommy's Weird Thing.") (And then I can say, "No, honey, you're Mommy's Weird Thing.")
(See, hmmmm. I think that means I haven't had enough sleep. I've been known to humor or argue with family members who aren't present. I'm particularly prone to humoring my grandfather when he's not around. But humoring or arguing with or teasing family members who do not yet exist...that's a little much, even for me.)
Maybe I should just take up Scherenschnitte. I'm not sure what that has to do with clothes, though. I'm just fond of paper, I think is the thing with that. We did some Scherenschnitte in Girl Scouts when I was little, and Tiffany Barr always got herself in trouble trying to pronounce it. Not as much trouble as she did when she wanted to go to Fuddrucker's, though.
Now, watch, I haven't talked to Tiffany in years, but she'll google herself some day and find this entry and kind of freak out about appearing in my journal: "why is she writing about me?" Or else she'll be touched. Awww. Childhood friendship memorialized forever.
The first time I went to Tiff's house when we were five or so, her mom (Donna) was trimming the edges of the grass with a pair of scissors -- they didn't have an edger, and the mower hadn't gotten the edges well enough. But I the ways of grown-ups were still a bit mysterious to me, so I crept up to Donna and ventured, "If your mower is broken, I'm sure my mom will let you borrow ours." I had this idea of poor Donna spending the whole day on her hands and knees, cutting the yard with scissors.
See? Little kids make total sense. They just don't have enough data to make their sense go the same places as grown-ups' sense.
This is totally random procrastinating so that I don't have to get dressed. Sigh. Well. It can only be avoided for so long.
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