Coyness is nice, and coyness can stop you from saying all the things in life you'd like to

May was a momentous month. It was long, hard sometimes, easy others, pretty. I liked you, May of 2010, you were solid. Thanks for the memories.

This is basically just to keep up with my self-imposed baseline of 10 posts per month for 2010, but I was hoping to maybe stumble on some truth in the process. Doesn't look like I've succeeded, does it?

I bought four books at the Rodney's closing sale yesterday. The titles:

-The Rising Sun in the Pacific 1931 - April 1942 (History of United States Naval Operations in World War II, volume 3) by Samuel Eliot Morison

-Salvation in Death by "J.D. Robb"

-Let Me Tell You a Story: A Lifetime in the Game by John Feinstein and Red Auerbach

-War Diaries: Politics and War in the Mediterranean January 1943 - May 1945 by Harold Macmillan

I bought the Morison volume because it was a pretty nice hardcover edition and I had previously done a book review paper on his Leyte Gulf volume from the same series. His stuff is very readable and heavy on facts, so it seemed like something worth having around, to get to sooner or later. I bought the "J.D. Robb" book as a joke, mainly to tell A that I bought it next time I talk to her, so we can laugh about Nora Roberts and her insane productivity. Yes, I am the kind of person who drops two dollars on a paperback "futuristic suspense" novel just to use it as a conversation piece. So sue me. Also, I had noticed that the book makes a pathetic, mainly symbolic attempt at playing it coy about the true identity of its author. I quote: "J.D. Robb is the pseudonym for the number one New York Times bestselling author of more than 170 novels including the futuristic suspense In Death series. There are more than 300 million copies of her books in print." As if there is anyone who would buy this book and not know who actually wrote it. Plus it says copyright Nora Roberts 2008 inside the front cover. Don't insult my intelligence by still attempting to maintain the facade that your about the author section could still deceive people. The Red Auerbach book I bought because he's bound to have tons of really good stories, and the guy is one of a kind. There could never possibly be another Red Auerbach. I bought Harold Macmillan at least in part because everything in the store was fifty percent off. Exactly what do I have to lose in buying an enormous volume of per·spic·u·ous·ly detailed diaries of life and war in the Mediterranean during the years 1943-1945? Space in my already cramped apartment, you might say. Well so be it.

Did I mention that every book in the store was fifty percent off?

I'll leave you with a spot of appropriate Housman, the first two and last verses of "The Chestnut Casts His Flambeaux". Good luck in June.

The chestnut casts his flambeaux, and the flowers
Stream from the hawthorn on the wind away,
The doors clap to, the pane is blind with showers.
Pass me the can, lad; there's an end of May.

There's one spoilt spring to scant our mortal lot,
One season ruined of your little store.
May will be fine next year as like as not:
But ay, but then we shall be twenty-four.

...

The troubles of our proud and angry dust
Are from eternity, and shall not fail.
Bear them we can, and if we can we must.
Shoulder the sky, my lad, and drink your ale.

la neige

Cold Boston parking lot decked out in 8 pm gloom. Broken glass and snow alike crunch crisply underfoot. The chill creeps in through warm sweaters and windbreakers, freezes nose-hairs in its frightful power. Power to kill without bias anyone who falls into its icy embrace.

Catering truck alone in an oasis of uncleared snow. Advertises warm Mediterranean delights that don't fit in this cold, cold night. The sea of shining black pavement expands ahead like the Atlantic, unbroken and vast.

It's a question of scope, how far you're willing to go

The thing is, this is in no way the end of the world. It simply isn't. So a Republican who ran a strong campaign focused on connecting with the voters won the election against a Democrat who seemed cold and distant and may have taken her victory for granted. Stop the presses! This stuff happens every day, and you really think your world will come crashing down around you because, horror of horrors, Massachusetts elected a Republican and the Democrats only have a 59-vote majority? Please, get over it.

I'm a little bit disappointed in Massachusetts tonight, but then again, I can't help but feel this nagging sense of pride. We don't do what people want us to do. We do what we like, and forget the consequences.
Massachusetts people are pretty cynical. I don't know that Scott Brown was necessarily someone that everyone in MA could get behind, and a real feel-good story, as he was made out to be in some circles. It's more like everyone was collectively trying to stick it to the man. Everybody loves the proverbial 'Washington outsider.' Everybody hates the perceived elitist (pronounced Coakley). People in MA wanted to say, hey you thought this was a solid Democrat state? You thought Coakley could coast, you thought we would do your bidding and return another Dem to fill Kennedy's seat? Think again! We're Massachusetts, we're independent, and we'll elect a Republican just because we can!

I'm not saying it's right, I'm not saying Scott Brown is the greatest thing since sliced bread, I'm just saying that's how I see it. And if any good could come out of this, I can only hope it would be that the Democrats will finally have the balls to take some action and get something done before their majority, whether it's 60 votes or 51, is gone for good.

ramblings again?

* There is the mundane, there is the banal, and then there is the conversation on the T with an acquaintance from some previous phase of your life that you used to know and haven't talked to since. And then, in the next circle of hell below that is secondhand listening to one of these conversations that someone else is loudly carrying on.

* We should totally hang out some time!

* Have you considered, while eating, whether a juicy steak is worth the future high blood pressure and heart disease, and the attendant increase in healthcare costs overwhelming an already dangerously strained American healthcare system?

* Don't you just love looking for things to get angry about and rage at with righteous ire? Things like reality television. And righteously angry conservative television commentators who bemoan the rise of reality television.

* I never turn down the chance to have my back to a wall. It's just safer that way.

* A sausage is only a sausage, unless it's andouille. That stuff is spicy!

* The Journal of Economic Entomology: real or fake? That depends on how you feel about apiaries.

I wish I was only a bust, all head

Where are we headed?

I have rarely felt more pessimistic about the fate of the world, and yet worried so little.

We'll survive.

As the time that we can share never is enough it seems to me

There's really nothing like the nihilistic pleasure of knowing that you'll be dead before climate change really gets started on ravaging the earth in life-altering ways. The temptation is great to just say "I won't be here, so good luck with all that."

For now, I'm ready to indulge that temptation. Am I wrong? Probably. But I'm also an American. I'm free to think whatever I want. And right now, I think that I'll be long gone by the time the German tourists are learning to swim in Arizona Bay.

So as the sea level rises, I urge you to not worry about it too much because, frankly, it's not your problem. We're probably talking about at least three generations before things get really drastically wicked bad. And someone else will think of a cheap, easy, nearly effortless way to stop global warming by then, right?

Right?

Livin' in a powder keg and givin' off sparks

I need a new job.

Just putting that out there, take it or leave it. If there's anybody out there in a position to give me a sweet job with nice benefits and even average money, feel free to contact me. I'm actually putting a lot of eggs in that basket, the scenario where a mysterious benefactor somehow finds this incredibly obscure blog, and, knowing very little about me or any skills that I might have, desires to give me a shot. As Bill Lumberg would say, that would be just grrreat.

(Office Space? Anyone?)

Because we all know that a recession is the best time to look for a job.

Oddly enough, I've already gotten two jobs during this recession, since September 1. Maybe the third time's the charm, again. Although the first two times were the charm too, so, you get the picture.

I'm rambling, but I'd like to emphasize again, if you're a rich person who's handing out jobs to inexperienced young whippersnappers like they're cough drops, please consider me. You can leave a comment here with your contact information. Don't call me, I'll call you.

Thanks.