Marc
I think the administration took September 11 and used it as a blank check. And like most Americans, I'm not sure the case has been made to put our sons and our daughters and innocent citizens at risk at this particular moment. But I don't think that's gonna matter, unfortunately. -- Bruce Springsteen, in an EW interview
One. Where the hell did everyone go? Sure, we heard from Jesse, but that's most likely his last post for quite a few months -- and a sad one at that. Zach? Scoot? Matt? Rick? You know, it's about time someone else put up at least a blurb on here. I know I'm the one that's sucking the life right out of this thing, but that doesn't mean that you guys don't still matter, too, does it? I'm so alone.
Two. I officially dub yesterday, 2.25.03, Asshole Yesterday Day. I don't know why I was acting the way I did. Passing people I knew damn well I knew in the halls of buildings without so much as a cursory glance, thinking about it only two steps gone and wondering to myself, 'why did I just ignore that person? It's obvious I'm me. Am I really that pathetic?' At the bar I brushed off people that I didn't feel were worthy of my attention, unreasonably. Asshole. Yesterday. Asshole Yesterday Day.
Three. A new Madden update -- I am now a palsied seven and seven, yet I am still holding strong in the second wild card slot for the NFC. I need luck. I have the top passer in the entire league, the best receiver in both leagues (with a rookie well on his way to becoming heir), yet I have no defense to speak. I am last in the league in interceptions, sacks, and total yards. Teams can score on me at will. It's a wise man that once said, "Offense wins the game, but defense wins championships." Lord, here my prayer.
Four. I am still in a very analytical mode. Everything around me seems to have some kind of meaning as of late, and it's becoming a bit bothersome. Tonight, for example, I argued (at length) with the friend of a roommate about the pointlessness about arguing about religion. My most basic point was this -- no matter what you believe, you believe in something, even when you believe in nothing. Trying to make this sound rational and coherent at two in the morning is another story. Trying to tell someone who claims to have no beliefs, yet someone who still refuses to acknowledge that his belief in his (seemingly apparent) lack of beliefs still constitutes a belief, in some sense, was difficult, bordering on impossible. After about fourty-five minutes of back and forth banter I finally decided to give up when he claimed that my atheism was actually an organized religion, despite the fact that I told him, repeatedly, I was not arguing about specific religions -- I was arguing about belief in general. The only way to describe it is to look sadly at the floor and say, "d'oh".
DC sleeps alone tonight.
In the batter's box: "Why Me" by the Smoking Popes (despite it's heavy religion overtones).
On deck: "Bewitched" by the Smoking Popes (despite it's Linda Ronstandt connections).
In the clubhouse: "The District Sleeps Alone" by the Postal Service (despite its penchant for making me want to take ecstasy and stay out until 3am, surrounded by people with glowsticks).
Riding pine: Actual techno music.
I think the administration took September 11 and used it as a blank check. And like most Americans, I'm not sure the case has been made to put our sons and our daughters and innocent citizens at risk at this particular moment. But I don't think that's gonna matter, unfortunately. -- Bruce Springsteen, in an EW interview
One. Where the hell did everyone go? Sure, we heard from Jesse, but that's most likely his last post for quite a few months -- and a sad one at that. Zach? Scoot? Matt? Rick? You know, it's about time someone else put up at least a blurb on here. I know I'm the one that's sucking the life right out of this thing, but that doesn't mean that you guys don't still matter, too, does it? I'm so alone.
Two. I officially dub yesterday, 2.25.03, Asshole Yesterday Day. I don't know why I was acting the way I did. Passing people I knew damn well I knew in the halls of buildings without so much as a cursory glance, thinking about it only two steps gone and wondering to myself, 'why did I just ignore that person? It's obvious I'm me. Am I really that pathetic?' At the bar I brushed off people that I didn't feel were worthy of my attention, unreasonably. Asshole. Yesterday. Asshole Yesterday Day.
Three. A new Madden update -- I am now a palsied seven and seven, yet I am still holding strong in the second wild card slot for the NFC. I need luck. I have the top passer in the entire league, the best receiver in both leagues (with a rookie well on his way to becoming heir), yet I have no defense to speak. I am last in the league in interceptions, sacks, and total yards. Teams can score on me at will. It's a wise man that once said, "Offense wins the game, but defense wins championships." Lord, here my prayer.
Four. I am still in a very analytical mode. Everything around me seems to have some kind of meaning as of late, and it's becoming a bit bothersome. Tonight, for example, I argued (at length) with the friend of a roommate about the pointlessness about arguing about religion. My most basic point was this -- no matter what you believe, you believe in something, even when you believe in nothing. Trying to make this sound rational and coherent at two in the morning is another story. Trying to tell someone who claims to have no beliefs, yet someone who still refuses to acknowledge that his belief in his (seemingly apparent) lack of beliefs still constitutes a belief, in some sense, was difficult, bordering on impossible. After about fourty-five minutes of back and forth banter I finally decided to give up when he claimed that my atheism was actually an organized religion, despite the fact that I told him, repeatedly, I was not arguing about specific religions -- I was arguing about belief in general. The only way to describe it is to look sadly at the floor and say, "d'oh".
DC sleeps alone tonight.
In the batter's box: "Why Me" by the Smoking Popes (despite it's heavy religion overtones).
On deck: "Bewitched" by the Smoking Popes (despite it's Linda Ronstandt connections).
In the clubhouse: "The District Sleeps Alone" by the Postal Service (despite its penchant for making me want to take ecstasy and stay out until 3am, surrounded by people with glowsticks).
Riding pine: Actual techno music.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home