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Perhaps you disapprove of noder fraternization, I don't but deciding to attend the nodermeet was something I thought long and hard about. One of my fears was that I would have a bad asthma attack since I'm allergic to the cats that live with Wiccanpiper and BriarCub. During lunch on Saturday I sat across from androjen and chaotic_poet. They mentioned that something they ate hadn't agreed with them so when I started feeling strange I didn't immediately realize that I had ingested a meal I was already regretting. Back at Wiccanpiper's I didn't know what to do. It was freezing cold outside but I was afraid of being alone in my car so I went to hang out with a couple guys who were smoking.

I started crying after someone put their arm around me. Feeling miserable inhibits your ability to converse politely so they stood there smoking while I stood there sobbing. The following may be surprising news but the high point of my weekend was that half hour I spent standing on Wiccanpiper's porch. Infrequently life hands you an unexpected gift. I should have left the restaurant as soon as I saw what kind of a place it was but in retrospect good things came out of that experience. When people ask me why I want to drive four hours to hang out with people I've never met I'm going to tell them the truth; to me, those people are worth it. Thanks to everyone who was there for me this weekend. You're all tops.

I Hate it Here

The Word E2 Feed

Welcome back, America. Welcome back to the eternal shitshow that is your domestic politics; welcome back from the orgy of hope that was your elections to the grime and feces of the real world's interactions. Welcome back to your continual attempts to deny the last gasps of renaissance civilization through your ongoing deification of complete failures of humanity; welcome back to your eternal disappointment over your deification of Smilers and bastards.

I've been here all along. Oh, no, I never left; I just retreated to the sewers and subways, cigarette clenched in my angry jaws, bottle of Old Panther Sweat in my hand, to observe from below - the only true viewpoint on this magnificent wasteland of a fucked country. If you read the latest polls (which will show you whatever you want depending on how you read them, which you pay attention to and most important who you've paid to commission them there is still an enormous machine in this country called the Republican Party, or Grand Old Party to its adherents. Nobody outside of this organization is sure why, since it has managed to garner positive approval ratings only in the cradle of the Civil War, and its entire party platform seems based on the notion that the sitting President is not only black, but a black who lies about his heritage in a legally culpable way.

This all makes me deliriously happy, despite the fact that it's coming up on holiday time, and I'll soon be having to carefully juggle time between political observation, writing, and emulating the Swedes by burning puppies as biofuel. I must offer my gratitude that that chilly nation for truly showing us The Way Forward on pest control. Puppies will likely burn even better than bunnies, and I'm all for anything that serves as dog population control. Fewer puppies means fewer dogs, which means fewer cybernetic police officers I need to discipline with a broken bottle and a drunken palsied veterinary surgeon.

So it's almost November, America. It's about eleven months since you elected Barack the Wonder Minority to your top office. Have things gotten better? Well, the rest of the world seems to think so. Why is there such a fuss about this? Probably because the entire reason for that accolade was "Because he isn't the festering useless fuckwit his predecessor was," which managed to offend all manner of Americans, including those who would agree if the question was phrased in that manner and should probably know better than to be offended.

All grist for the mill.

Welcome back, America.

It's closing in on 2010, and I still hate it here.

My productivity has gone down the drain since we've been moved from a traditional individual cubicle scheme to an open plan office. All we have are tables and a short semblance of a metal divider not fully covering my eyes from the eyes of the person ahead. These people are not even in our workgroup; I don't know anything about their work, let alone about them. In the open plan, everyone is a stranger in a strange land.

This is not a healthy work environment. It's particularly unhealthy for me because of my ADHD, but it's not a good idea for anyone. People don't usually notice or react with anxiety to marginal decreases in their productivity.

I can't get a single thing done if I don't have music playing through my headphones. I should be able to sue them later in life for eventual hearing damage. And as a consultant, I'm supposed to come up with solutions to problems people haven't managed to understand in their own turf. I don't just "get things done"; I don't have a list of tasks to finish.

I've complained to all the relevant people, invariably getting the vague promise that one day, one day, something's gonna change. One day.

Friends of Behr I report good news and bad news to you today. I will give the bad news first so that you may be brought down by it and then uplifted by the good news that follows it so that the bell curve of the intense emotions you will feel when reading your friend Behr's report will end on an up note and you will leave happy at the end of the reading rather than upset or angry like a child.

Friend Behr was dismissed from his position as a fully tenured professor of ethics in the Greater Maryland University System earlier this month. The irony of this was that the firing, which I am told was rubber stamped by Maryland governor Tommy Carcetti himself (I do not endorse his political views so we are at odds), was over "ethics violations" stemming from my side business of collecting sensitive information about students and then charging them a nominal fee not to make the information public. Once again the Democrats have worked overtime to shut down a legitimate business that makes money because they don't believe in honest work. This is mostly ironic because as a fully tenured professor of ethics it is my job to define ethics for young people, so if I define ethics how can I violate my own definitions? It goes against the laws of physics to do so and therefore is impossible. I plan to appeal and have written to Chief Justice John Roberts to come to my aid.

And so that is the bad news. The good news is that my firing has given me time to work on other more profitable business ventures. I have started a new operation I think will be highly profitable. I am running it out of the Civil War Action Figures, Ltd. offices (as this business operates on similar principles and I can save money by using the CWAF stationary and just whiting out the name). Since CWAF, Ltd. is currently in shut down mode due to government investigation I figure the empty offices could use some company. This new operation involves everyone's favorite place: Outer Space.

I've been thinking a lot about outer space recently, having watched some documentaries on the cable. I am already in discussions with some investor friends about selling tickets for rides on the space shuttle, with kids being the main target since they won't try to sue when they find out the tickets won't be honored by NASA which controls the space shuttle. Good and reliable friend Chopper suggests that we can get the kids to believe the tickets are for a Russian space shuttle and then have them fly to Russia where they will find no space shuttle to ride on and no way home. That is probably the best plan for avoiding legal action, but it also involves actually getting plane tickets, which might be too much bother. I'm going to sleep on it, but I imagine this will earn me an extra $50,000 a month in non-taxable income if I do it right. Chopper wants to get in on the deal, but when it comes to venture capital he doesn't have a pot to piss in, as they say in internet speak.

I am also working late into the night on my movie script. I am writing a James Bond movie script called Porkfist (one day someone will do a review of my movie here and you will be able to find it by clicking on that link which is pretty exciting). It features a villain named Porkfist who had his hand badly mangled in a factory accident as a young man and now wants to stop industry and make the world go back to an agrarian culture (I know - it makes me shudder as well which is why it is a GREAT idea for a villain). I expect this movie will be made and released in 2011 so look for it. In the footnotes for the script I note that I am willing to play the role of Porkfist even though it is complete against type for me.

You know you're a geek woman when: you retell the tale about Sagan coming up with a theorem while a)in the shower, b) with his wife, c) higher than geostationary orbit ("Luckily, he was able to write it down on the door with some soap") to your state social worker, and when she notes dourly, "Romantic..." you reply, with a wondering look "Oh..yes!"

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