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Saturday, January 28, 2012

Today, we're throwing a party for my birthday, which is in 2 days. As you may recall, I share a birthday with former Vice-President of the United States, Richard B. "Dick" Cheney. It could be worse. In fact, it is. I also share a birthday with former President of the United States, Franklin Delano Roosevelt. Ouch.
I invited certain enthusiastic Lutherans to the party, but alas, they suspected a trap, and declined. No, not really. Certain other comrades of the Revolution were also invited, but enamored of their schismatic plotting, they declined as well.
I was feeling bad last night, because I hadn't drunk enough water. Deciding that doing so would be a wise course, I imbibed and got into bed. Whenever my mother is talking about (or doing) something morally questionable, she raises her voice and refers to her Jesus-loving son, or something like that. Last night, she went with, "committed Catholic son," which pleased me greatly, though I am a dirt-bag.
For some reason, after I typed that paragraph, I thought of Christina Yang. Christina Yang is a fictional fifth-year surgical resident at a Seattle hospital (of course I know the name; just didn't feel like typing it) on the popular drama, 'Grey's Anatomy.' Yang has had two abortions. She is the best friend of the titular character, Meredith Grey. She is married to Dr. Owen Hunt, now the Chief of Surgery since the much cooler Chief, Dr. Richard Webber, took the blame for Meredith's unethical manipulation of an Alzheimer's drug trial. Owen was a punk at first and supported his murdering wife, but as of the last time we've seen them, Owen threatens divorce and shouts, "You murdered our baby! You don't just bounce back from that!" Good for you, Dr. Hunt. We kind of knew Hunt was a lifer because he raised holy Abel the whole episode when she decided on that course some months ago. Then, he caved. I love this show. I don't care what you say. Anyway, Happy Birthday to me. And don't quote me on this, but I think it's Oprah's birthday tomorrow. (Technically before mine)

Friday, January 27, 2012

It was a bit deflating to hear the phone ring this morning, only to rise and find no name attached to the 206 area code number. With how I was feeling, I was hoping God would call. Then again, maybe He did. In point of fact, area code 206 appears to be a defunct one from Washington state. I know 202 to be the District of Columbia; I didn't think Mr. Turner or the President of the United States would call. It's a sales call. Still, it's nice to know someone cares, even if he just wants to separate me from my cash.
I doubt most people would value the thoughts I thought before I rose to see who it was. They were the same ones I fell asleep with. You know, I thought of ending the blog yesterday; I don't find any happiness here right now. Just myself and The Thoughts, every time I want to write or do anything at all. Is this how it will be? "Is this all that I am? Is there nothing more?" Haunted. It's hard to remember feeling or thinking anything else.
Somebody said I was in a cave. No; caves by their darkness remind you of light. This is worse. This is Nothing. As if I have died, the good part, the happy part, and this other self gets to sit here.
I suppose it could be worse. I actually care. Life matters. It might matter so much in the particular that it's why I'm stuck here. My brother says all the time that you can't let other people dictate how you're going to feel. That's true, I guess. Easy for him to say.

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

I hate you, Facebook. You'll be lucky if my account is still active after you force that timeline monstrosity on us. Furthermore, the search function clearly wants to ruin the entire experience for me. Do not force me to elaborate. Zuckerberg, you are a putz.

Monday, January 23, 2012

I just don't want to watch any more debates; the stuff that matters is obviously the primary and caucus results, as well as (much more importantly) the speeches that follow these. All the candidates know that the people who matter will watch these. Did you realize that the basic cast of the 2008 race was set in January, after the Iowa Caucuses? Obama's speech was borderline incredible; I remember this. He set the tone and the terms; it was up to Senator Clinton to reset them. Though the battle for the delegates was rather close, (decided by party insiders known as "superdelegates") she lost every crucial contest.


This year, Republicans are the challengers. Each of the three top candidates--Romney, Gingrich, and Santorum--has claimed 1st place in a contest. What happens next will depend on the dynamic that emerges following the next vote in Florida. If various real-time reports are to be believed, Romney believes Gingrich to be his only real rival for the nomination. If he is correct, then attacking Gingrich directly in ads and debates successfully as he did in Iowa should return him to frontrunner status. If the voters in Florida size up the race as it has unfolded--that no one has emerged in a dominant position--then Romney is in much bigger trouble. The 31st of this month will be Florida's day. Following this, Maine and Nevada will vote on February 3rd. Expect wins for Romney there. His margin, however, will determine the significance. The next big day is February 7. Colorado, Minnesota, and Missouri will all vote. Colorado is conservative with an independent streak; if Romney wins there, it says that the rebellion against his nomination is for naught. Minnesota trends liberal; expect a Romney win, although a strong Christian vote could boost Rick Santorum, who should enjoy a regional benefit as well. But my own state of Missouri is the big fish here. Missouri will tell us who has the best chance to win the nomination, since it is likely to be decided on "Super Tuesday," March 6. Missouri is non-binding, but it was the last stand for both Romney and Huckabee in 2008 versus John McCain.

Sunday, January 22, 2012

Rest In Peace, JoePa. You didn't do anything wrong, and I hope you are enjoying the Father's smile right now. Save a seat at the poker game for me.