So things are seeming pretty hopeless. We’ve raised our voices in protest, but at this point it’s just preaching to the choir. Those who are in power, legitimately or not, aren’t listening and/or don’t care. It’s official, fellow citizens, we’re living in a rogue nation (that goes for those of you “led” by the other two thirds of the unholy trio, my condolences). But that still doesn’t mean we have to roll over and accept it. United for Peace has some thoughts:
“War now appears imminent. If the bombs start falling, we call on you to join with United for Peace & Justice and other groups around the country in organizing emergency protests. However you choose to express your opposition to war - from silent vigils to loud marches to nonviolent civil disobedience - get out on the streets immediately and join with millions around the world in demanding an end to the bloodshed.”
I also like the idea of the Baghdad Snapshot Action campaign:
“Since February 2003, people have postered snapshots from Baghdad on street corners, in offices, and at schools around the world. Quiet and casual, the snapshots show a part of Baghdad we rarely see: the part with people in it.”
And there’s always Michael Moore for that extra little kick in the pants.

What can I say about this madness, that The Onion hasn’t already summed up so succintly?

Bush Orders Iraq To Disarm Before Start Of War
WASHINGTON, DC—Maintaining his hardline stance against Saddam Hussein, President Bush ordered Iraq to fully dismantle its military before the U.S. begins its invasion next week. ‘U.S. intelligence confirms that, even as we speak, Saddam is preparing tanks and guns and other weapons of deadly force for use in our upcoming war against him,’ Bush said Sunday during his weekly radio address. ‘This madman has every intention of firing back at our troops when we attack his country.’ Bush warned the Iraqi dictator to ‘lay down [his] weapons and enter battle unarmed, or suffer the consequences.’

This business has me feeling disgusted, discouraged, and dejected. I think it’s appropriate that I’ve been listening to His Hero is Gone all morning.
“…surrounded by timeless symbols of oppression, social struggle, rock & roll and blues, His Hero Is Gone rose as a new voice for the voiceless victims of increasing globalization, terroristic urban policing, cultural alienation, and corporate greed.”

I have a confession to make. I seem to have something of a kneejerk reaction…to blame Qwest. When any telecommunications-related problems arise in our household. Qwest does have a reputation for being evil. Or for providing extremely shoddy service, at least. So naturally when the DSL went wonky last night, we blamed Qwest. It still wasn’t working this morning, but I didn’t have time to investigate. So I asked J to. And just received this email from him about it:
“Ok, I figured it out. The little man unplugged the phone line from the back of your computer. It Works Better When You Plug It In.®”
Doh! I’d forgotten to factor the monkey into this scenario. Last night we were hanging out in the computer room for a bit before his bedtime. With him sitting, literally, at my feet. He was quiet for a bit too long, come to think of it. Which is usually a sign of trouble…that he’s into something he shouldn’t be. But I just thought he was tired. Silly me. I mustn’t forget, constant vigilance! And not everything can be blamed on Qwest. Just most everything.

Everyone’s favorite hipmama, Ariel Gore, has written another book. Entitled “Atlas of the Human Heart“, it’s a part-novel, part-memoir recounting the wild ride through her teenage years. I just read a great interview with her, followed by an excerpt from the book. I was so excited I was ready to get the little man back in the car (we did an 8am grocery run, to beat the crowds) and head over to Ruminator to pick up a copy. I did have the sense to check their site first, though, and then disappointment set in. The book doesn’t come out until next month. Doh. And Ruminator doesn’t yet carry the other book I want anyway, “McSweeney’s Mammoth Treasury of Thrilling Tales“. And yet a further disappointment, Ariel won’t be coming to town on her book tour. Oh well. Guess I’ll quit whining and wait it out.

Pet peeve #254 about J: he kicks in his sleep. He’s not thrashing around or anything, just kicking in short, controlled bursts. All night long. My theory? He’s dreaming that he’s clog dancing. Or more like he’s learning to clog dance. He pauses while the instructor shows him a few steps, then repeats them. Then he has to wait a bit. As the instructor shows the steps to a few other students before he’s able to kick up his heels once more, causing the entire bedframe to shake. It’s certainly preferable to snoring. But we’ll be in big trouble if he ever dreams he’s moved up to the next level…an all-night solo recital.

Reason #254 why I love J: he knows how to make me smile. Especially when I most need to. You see, J is well aware of what a crappy week I’ve been having. I’ve been working long days, since Sunday, trying to meet shifting and nebulous project deadlines. Every day has felt like an episode of that terrible show Sliders… arriving to the office to find a slightly different version of what I knew to be reality, like I’ve entered a somewhat off-kilter parallel universe. And I’ve been working all week while my body has been playing host to a nasty cold/flu combo that’s kicking my ass (which might explain my fever-inspired reference to Sliders). So I haven’t been the happiest camper. Especially in the evenings, when I eventually return home. But last night J had a plan in place to try to change this. When I walked in the door I was greeted by the little man…in his monkey suit, from last Halloween. And the kid was beaming from ear to ear while bouncing up and down. “Momma momma, my monkey suit” as though I might somehow fail to notice what he was wearing. And he kept pointing at his monkey flash card (his favorite from that set), repeating “monkey, monkey” and then pointing to himself. Heh. That was the highlight of my week, hands down. But hopefully he won’t be expecting new outfits now…to coordinate with each of his favorite flashcards. As amusing as that would be, it would be one daunting, and expensive, feat.

Just had one helluva commute, thanks to last night’s slushy snowfall. The little man’s pre-school is on a fairly busy road. This morning it was slicker than I’ve ever seen it. I was already crawling along in cautious-driving mode when the unexpected happened. A car from the oncoming lane of traffic started to spin out, then did a full 180 and ended up directly in front of me. To avoid hitting it I barely tapped my brakes and steered my car to the right. But because of the ice I slid out of the way a little further than intended…stopping just before we would have hit a telephone pole. After I let out the breath I’d been holding the little man just said “whoa”. So after verifying everything was ok I signalled, to try to get back on the road…but at least a dozen cars zoomed past before one would let me in. A few blocks later we pulled up in front of the pre-school to find:
1: a car wrapped around a tree on the boulevard, right in front of the playground 2: and one block further up a taxi cab wrapped around a telephone pole
The little man stared at the former for a moment before pointing and declaring “the car’s broken”. I should have taken photos, but this was pre-coffee. And post-adrenaline rush. I think it would have been a good day to stay in bed. With the alarm clock unplugged.
Update: I could have had it worse. I forgot to mention the guy driving next to me on the freeway this morning. I heard this god-awful screeching sound so naturally I turned to look. And saw that he was driving on three tires, and one rim. But he didn’t seem very concerned about it. Maybe I should adopt his attitude. Yeah, everything’s all fucked up…but you’ve got to keep going. So for now I’ll do my best to ignore my burgeoning fever and sore throat. And looming deadlines. And just keep chugging along.

Once again someone in my household has been fiddling with my alarm clock. Not to the time setting, this time, but to the volume. Generally I have it set so low I only hear the click of the alarm about to go off…followed by some low-level fuzzy static that is MPR. Not so this morning. I heard it loud and clear, with Cathy Wurzer and associates bellowing at me.
At 6:25 …the Minneapolis Public Library…
*snooze*
At 6:34 …in Milwaukee…
*snooze*
At 6:43 …with steak fajitas…
I didn’t have the presence of mind to locate the volume control. Instead, despite the adrenaline jolt, I somehow drifted back to sleep each time. And had some really strange dreams. Tomorrow morning I think I’ll wake up to Radio K instead.

Hollywood is really running out of ideas. That’s been evident for some time…with the slew of remakes that have come out in recent years. And the scrambling for any sort of material that might sell…which has resulted in the desecration of some of my favorite comics. But really folks, “Pac Man“, the motion picture?
“In a most unlikely turn of events, production company and distribution outfit Crystal Sky has purchased the film rights for ’80s video game Pac-Man. How exactly a screenwriter might turn a game about a yellow thing (animal? alien? robot?) that hovers through a maze eating fruit and ghosts into a coherent story is anyone’s guess. There has been no mention of Ms. Pac-Man’s involvement in this live-action (!) film. In any case, look for Pac-Man, Inky, Blinky, Pinky, and Clyde in theaters sometime in 2003-04. Wokka, wokka!”
How bizarre.

Update: But wait, there’s more. And it gets even more bizarre. For me, at least. J just broke the news to me. There was a Pac-Man cartoon on TV in the early 80s. I was convinced he was pulling my leg. Until I pulled up the imdb entry. And then I found a site replete with screenshots. How could I have missed this? I was watching *plenty* of cartoons in the 80s. And playing a lot of Pac-Man.

Some recent experiences got me thinking about Matt Groening’s pre-Simpsons work. Back in high school I read his Life in Hell comic every week in the City Pages. Which, at the time, was described as “the funniest, most sneakily radical strip in the country” by the Village Voice. I remember being amused by it. But maybe not fully getting it. I certainly do now…so many years later, and with a lot more life experience under my belt. I can’t help but feel certain comics were written just for me. Or about me. But that’s what makes the comics so brilliant. They’ve got something for everyone, from lonely tyrants to sullen teenagers. And just for those who are amused and/or depressed by “Office Space“, I must recommend Work Is Hell. Where “all the bullies and toadies who once tormented you are now your supervisors or trying to sell you insurance”. Check it out. But remember, “if you can keep your expectations tiny you’ll go through life without being so whiny”. Pure genius.