My children are both feverish and sick. It's cool enough to play outside, but mainly we'll just watch movies and drink a lot of liquids. Since they were throwing up anyway, I'm letting them watch some of the direct-to-video sequels that Disney craps out after almost every film.

At the moment they're watching Lion King 2. This movie picks up after the birth of Simba's cub. We know it is Simba's cub because in the original Lion King Simba gains control of the pride from Scar, and when a new lion takes over a pride they systematically kill every cub sired by the previous leader.

Also, the Disney movie portrays them as singing and dancing, when every zoological study reports that lions only enjoy slam poetry.

A notable exception to the usual sequel garbage that Disney manages to compact into a DVD is Toy Story 2. This was made by Pixar, just like the first one, and Disney distributed it. Disney doesn't actually make them, see, but they market damn hard to make people think they do. Pixar was working on the sequel and basically called Disney up and said "Sorry, we don't know how to make...crap."

Thus, the budget for Toy Story 2 was upped considerably and even released in theaters. It was even better than the first one, in my opinion. Emotionally, it had some very complex scenarios. Also, it was hilarious.

And Disney learned nothing.

Now that they have considerably more influence after purchasing Pixar (although the boys are still pretty bad ass; one of the head guys flat-out told Disney that they wouldn't do any sequels "unless the story demands it".

I'm hopeful that they'll be able to fight off the Disney influence. If they turn into an inbred studio like Disney, raping classic stories and then shuttling off the twisted spawn into a Wal-Mart bin near you.

The Noobers, Part 2

This is my impression of the telecommunications companies that received retroactive immunity for illegally helping our President spy on Americans.

I guess if I wanted to be crude, I could say that this is my impression of the President as Civil Liberties goes down on him. And do I want to be crude? Oh yes. I'm pretty irked that corporations that break laws affecting millions of people get off without punishment and yet I affect one particular asshole by fire-bombing his car and I'm the criminal here?

What kind of a country is this?

My final caption suggestion is "Senate Accidentally Grants Gurg Retroactive Immunity For All Future Crimes".

Witnesses quoted him as saying "Woo-hoo! I'm gonna drill for oil on the lawn of the White House!"

A source close to Gurg expressed concern, stating "The last time he said that he just firebombed someone's car."

My nephews are now capable of screwing the top off of my Nalgene bottle. Ender can also close it again. They have moved up from "Crow" to "Octopus". I chart their development by comparing their capabilities to other animals. Since Ender can also close the bottle, he gets a bonus point moving him up to "Polite Octopus", which I imagine exist somewhere.

There is also the Rude Octopus who simultaneously smokes seven cigarettes and flips people of with the eighth.

In gelato news, I journeyed to the reputed best gelato shoppe in the state, goes by the name of Arlecchino. In English, our state language, it means "Harlequin", which is what I assume it will be re-named once that English-only law we voted in goes into effect. Sorry, Italian, but you sound too much like Spanish. French, oh you know you've never been welcome. Is that all the Romance languages? Hmm, better get rid of that Braille as well. It claims to be in English but who knows, right? I never did trust anybody who couldn't look in my functioning eyes.

The gelato was excellent. I even ran into my friend Juwig and his wife, who I never met before. She seemed nice, and she and I both were eating the same flavor so I knew she had sound judgment.

Juwig expressed surprise that I drove so far from home for gelato. I often forget about the price of fuel, and that people are usually bored driving long distances. I haven't had to buy gas in almost two weeks, and I seldom get bored on my motorcycle.

Heh, this gelato trip had been particularly exciting since I wasn't sure when the place closed and might have gone a little faster than I needed to on a stretch of freeway where police don't seem to venture.

In Phoenix we have odd chunks of freeway that are placed haphazardly about that become extremely popular twice a day but have little traffic otherwise. Which is convenient if one wishes to haphazardly exceed 100 mph in search of sweet, sweet, gelato.

I also let a family share my parking space. Parking was limited in the little plaza, and I was happy to share. I hate taking up more space than I need, ever since reading The Little Prince.

They were very gracious. It's little things like this that help fight the trouble-making stigma of riding a motorcycle.

On a related note, I have figured out how to make stop-sticks. Those things are expensive; about 60 bucks or so. Four dollars spent at the hardware store and a few blood-blisters from the damn needle-nose pliers and I have even better ones. And these are made with chain, so they are much more portable. I have individual ones to use as chaff if enemy spies are in pursuit. Once I figure out the wiring on the button that releases the oil-slicks I will be unstoppable.

Unless someone jams a stick in my spokes. That'll take me down pretty quick.

Remy just stole my handcuff key.

Clever boy.

But more importantly, he brought it back.

Yes, I am teaching my nephews how to bust me out of state and federal holding facilities. Why else do people have children?

This is a fairly easy lesson. I say "Gee officer, can I just give my nephews a hug before you haul me off?" Remy will slip me the handcuff key, and Ender will slip me the bacon grease.

Then when the police open the door of the squad car, I'll leap out completely naked and covered in bacon grease and I will run like the wind. There's nary a law enforcement agency in history that's been able to catch a greased Gurg.

If they shoot me that doesn't count. If they tazer me that's partial credit. If they set a maiden with red hair in a tranquil glade and catch me like a unicorn, that's extra credit.

Bean-bag shotguns and stun grenades are allowed, but non-lethal force probably won't be an issue since I'll likely be dealing with the Phoenix Police Department. If Sheriff Joe gets his way, their motto will go from "To Serve And Protect" to "If It's Brown, Shoot It Down".

Which is a little mean. I'm much more partial to "Kill 'Em All And Let Immigration Sort It Out", but I can see how that would be difficult to fit onto a badge.

Luke wrote "Not sure what else you're doing, in terms of media participation (or not) but your writing is becoming increasingly good these days."


The comment pleases me greatly. As for my media participation, this is it. Blogger gives me a spot in the internet vending machine and my selection is free, even if sometimes I snag on the tip of the corkscrewing dispenser. A good kick to the internets usually jars me loose.

I do have a small idea that would be a fun, low pressure way to create stories and overcome the ubiquitous loneliness of aligning letters. It's in the pre-alpha stage, which essentially means I can do it anytime I just have to get off my buttocks.

But for now, I'm all yours at no cost to you. Except for a few externalities, like making friends and me dropping by to eat your food.

* * * * *

I spent Independence Day with my family, eating and lounging about. This holiday is bittersweet for me partly due to my being a half-soldier and mostly due to the Americans that are currently dying in battle and the Americans that are being killed by poverty, poor education, and basic health care. One argument I had (with a business major) about providing healthcare despite a person's economic status. It was a friendly discussion, but I did reply hotly when she stated what is essentially the foundation for arguments against such socialized initiatives: "This is a country of individuals."

"No," I said, "This is a country of Americans." Our freedom is not being eroded by institutions such as the police, firefighters, other emergency personnel, providing public education, or the fucking post office. In my America, we don't let each other die without a fight.

Sigh. But I don't delude myself about how much the majority is willing to sacrifice. The downside of the visual medium, of course, is that it shattered our ability to conceptualize ourselves as a unified nation. If we had only the radio and the president went on a radio address and said "Americans are being killed by diseases. As a nation, we can help them" I think people would.

In a visual world, if we don't see it, it's not as real as the problems we can. It is more likely now, almost inevitable, to wonder "Well, what kind of Americans are being killed?"

Now this guy makes me proud to an American.



The feeling I get from watching this is pride, envy, a touch of despair, and hope. Perhaps this is how a parent feels as they let go of their children.

The hope I feel is not for the future, but for the present. We can do this right now. The bit of sadness comes with all truths; it encompasses my experiences and illuminates everything, the good and the bad. I've not drank in a three months or so, which is a long time for me, and despite the chemical shenanigans when it reacts with my medication, the most effective motivation has been the saccharine happiness that it brings, the truth-in-shadows.

As a substitute, it is a poor one. Happiness isn't just a feeling, and it certainly isn't achieved by shutting out other feelings. What alcohol gives me is a pleasant distortion. Picking out shapes in the clouds, singing along to static, dancing to white noise.

This makes me feel happy by taking me away from my environment, giving up my awareness, by going to another place. In doing so, I have often literally lost the ability to communicate, as anyone who has been privy to my drunken ramblings can attest.

I still want to drink. The desire is the same. But right now, I am focusing on my other desires. I guess I just don't want to miss anything.