Total Perspective Vortex
What really happened to Trillian? Theories abound, but you can see what she's really been up to on this blog. If you're looking for white mice, depressed robots, or the occasional Pan Galactic Gargleblaster you might be better served here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/cult/hitchhikers/guide/.
Don't just sit there angry and ranting, do something constructive.
In the words of Patti Smith (all hail Sister Patti): People have the power.
Contact your elected officials.
Don't be passive = get involved = make a difference.
Words are cool.
The English language is complex, stupid, illogical, confounding, brilliant, beautiful, and fascinating.
Every now and then a word presents itself that typifies all the maddeningly gorgeousness of language. They're the words that give you pause for thought. "Who came up with that word? That's an interesting string of letters." Their beauty doesn't lie in their definition (although that can play a role). It's also not in their onomatopoeia, though that, too, can play a role. Their beauty is in the way their letters combine - the visual poetry of words - and/or the way they sound when spoken. We talk a lot about music we like to hear and art we like to see, so let's all hail the unsung heroes of communication, poetry and life: Words.
Here are some I like. (Not because of their definition.)
Mamas, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to be Smart Girls
(A Trillian de-composition, to the tune of Mamas, Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys)
Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains
Smart girls ain’t easy to love and they’re above playing games
And they’d rather read a book than subvert themselves
Kafka, Beethoven and foreign movies
And each night alone with her cat
And they won’t understand her and she won’t die young
She’ll probably just wither away
Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains
A smart girl loves creaky old libraries and lively debates
Exploring the world and art and witty reparteé
Men who don’t know her won’t like her and those who do
Sometimes won’t know how to take her
She’s rarely wrong but in desperation will play dumb
Because men hate that she’s always right
Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains
Life(?) of Trillian
Single/Zero
Thursday, December 02, 2010
Open letter to parents in custody disputes:
Dear parent so obsessed/angry/vengeful/vindictive that you want to get even with your ex by hiding/abusing/kidnapping/killing your children,
Instead of "getting even" with your ex by torturing, abusing or killing your children why not let me or another sane, unbiased third-party adult who doesn't care who's right or who's wrong take care of your kids while you and your ex get some serious counseling (perhaps including medication(s)) to help you think more like yourself and less like a maniacal homicidal beast with a grudge? I'll be happy to take care of your kids, keep them safe, play games, read books, make sure they do their homework, and let them be kids - safe and away from the nastier side of adult life that you're experiencing. Most of all I'll let them live.
I just spent 40 excruciating minutes behind the two women on the planet who haven't heard about TSA/air safety rules. They attempted to go through airport security with, among other things: Manicure kits (w/nail polish, nail polish remover, pointy nail file and scissors, natch) (wrapped in festive holiday paper, apparently they were gifts), bottles of pop, a large tube of hand lotion, large bottle of shampoo, lace-up-over-the-knee boots, every piece of jewelry they own and: cigarette lighters. And they were confused and angry that they were taken to the "special" security check area.
On the one hand, kind of "interesting" and somewhat humorous to witness, but on the other hand, huh? What the...????
