weapons of massdistraction

I’ve been on pins and needles waiting for packages to arrive. Not all online stores were created equal. Some have super crapass® package tracking, or, more frustratingly, no package tracking at all. I realize there’s still time, but I’m ready to start gift wrapping in earnest. And I just know as soon I leave the house the delivery people will converge upon our doorstep, leaving behind their lame pickup notices before speeding away. In other news, today is the little man’s last day of school until, gulp, January 3rd. That means an extra lot of one on one time with the lad. I’ll have to somehow keep him occupied and amused while I attempt to wrap up a couple of client projects, deal with the holidays, spend time with friends and family visiting from out of town, and edit my novel. Can I kick it? (Yes, you can!) We’re going to start this party right by checking out Theater Mu’s Taiko Drumming performance at the Children’s Museum tomorrow morning. Should be a good time.
Bonus: This sounds like fun: Chicks with Sticks. Though I’ll have to learn to knit with the lights on before I try doing it in the dark.
Plus: Dave Eggers will be at Bound to Be Read Sunday night, at 7pm.
And: Calling all fiends, Episode 14 has arrived.
And another thing: Chuck rocks. That is all.

Naturally I observe all of the little man’s behavior with great interest. Lately I’ve noticed his food choices in particular, and how they’ve been unduly influenced by the DVDs he watches.

Like many kids he is a little picky, and prefers to stick with a routine (like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for lunch every day, no matter what). But a Caillou video compelled him to request Chinese vegetables and noodles for dinner. After watching Pee Wee’s Playhouse he’s been eating more raw carrots. And the other day a Pee Wee episode prompted him to try a vegan grilled cheese sammich for the first time (he loved it, and claims that Pee Wee is vegan, and won’t listen to anything to the contrary). I can’t complain. These are relatively healthy foods. I just wonder what he’d be asking for if we watched broadcast television, with all those fast food commercials. He seems to have some understanding of what it means to be vegan…in his own words, animals aren’t for eating. But he’s starting to make connections. Branding is so pervasive and invasive these days, even without television. In my pre-motherhood days logo spoofs started to become a popular way to mitigate the effects of branding. In that spirit I slapped a McVegan sticker on my microwave years ago without giving it much thought. I never foresaw having it backfire on me. The little man is starting to spell now, and he recognized the M and logo when driving past a McDonald’s. Naturally we haven’t taken him inside one, but the one nearest to our house has a “Playland”, with giant brightly colored slides visible from the street. Several times now he’s asked to go in, and I’ve tried to explain that it’s not a vegan-friendly place…but he the poor kid just wants to play. Thankfully we have other places to go for that, where food isn’t a factor.

Speaking of food…game maker Namco plans Ramen-Noodle Theme Park in Japan. Coming across this now is especially funny, since we just purchased their Katamari Damacy online this very morning. We’re opting for in-store pickup, and are leaving shortly to retrieve it…along with our copy of The Return of the King extended edition. Yay! I don’t think I’ll be leaving the house for a few days. Too much extra footage to take in.
Bonus: The trailer is now online for the Charlie and the Chocolate Factory remake. There was no sign of the dreaded Oompa Loompas. Those little fuckers have always creeped me out.
Update: Stupid Best Buy. When we went to Customer Service to pick up our purchases, our game was nowhere to be found. But the husband did get an email, giving him a number to call if he still wants it. Thankfully our copy of RoTK was there, which I got a good start on this morning while the little man was at school. I’ll be squeezing the extras in after his bedtime every night. I suspect I’ll be getting even less sleep than usual, until I’ve seen it all. Yeah.

I’ve just realized…while my creative output has been on the rise these last few years, the little man’s has been in steady decline. When he was two and three years old the kid loved to color and fingerpaint, going at it for hours a day. On paper, tables, walls, himself. He took advantage of any available surface. And he used to press so hard that he wore marker tips down to little nubs. Crayons would melt in his hot little hands. But at four and five he’s shown less interest. Is he jaded already? Did I overwhelm him with the sheer number of choices in medium, with all the paints and watercolor pencils, chalk, the crayons of varying size and color, the vast array of markers? Thankfully he’s enjoyed a burst of creativity this past week. Not only has he been fingerpainting, he’s been drawing faces and scary scarecrows (the latter is something he picked up from a Bob the Builder video, apparently). And, this is most exciting, he started writing out his very first letters. At the prompting of no one and without assistance. Well, I think it’s exciting anyhow, and thus have photographed his recent efforts. As for the face in the bottom photo…I’ve nicknamed that the grumpy tadpole, and am considering turning it into a strange children’s book, or writing a short story about it. Or maybe both.
Bonus: I would love to see the results of Duluth’s Diorama-rama. Hopefully someone will post photos. Hint hint.
Plus: Speaking of results, the little man may or may not have freaking ringworm. After a trip to urgent care this morning, the lab tests were inconclusive. So we’re going with the prescription anti-fungal ointment, just in case. Fun. My life is so glamorous. Perhaps the story could be The Grumpy Tadpole Gets Ringworm.

Well. It’s International Human Rights Day again. But there’s little enough to celebrate. I’m feeling more hopeless than ever, about the way these rights are being trampled the world over. There are too many instances to point out. But one particularly appalling story surfaced recently, about the U.S. government whitewashing torture:

On June 15, 2003, Sgt. Frank “Greg” Ford, a counterintelligence agent in the National Guard stationed in Samarra told his commanding officer, Capt. Victor Artiga, that he had witnessed five incidents of torture and abuse of Iraqi detainees at his base, and requested a formal investigation.

Thirty-six hours later, Ford, a 49-year-old with over 30 years of military service in the Coast Guard, Army and Navy, was ordered by U.S. Army medical personnel to lie down on a gurney. He was then strapped down, loaded onto a military plane and medevac”d to a military medical center outside the country - even though there was nothing wrong with him.

The fact that I’m not too surprised is an indication of how bad things have gotten. But I am easily overwhelmed, so I’ve turned to repelling doom and gloom on the homefront. Yesterday I caved in, and our atheist household now has its first ever holday/xmas tree. And a real one, at that, of the little man’s choosing. When the husband first saw it he demanded to know just what it is we’re celebrating. I flippantly replied “the pretty lights” but that’s the truth. Cheesy as it may sound, I think it does tap into some primal need…as the days become shorter, and the world more cruel, winter solstice holidays have long marked the victory of light over darkness. Personally I’ve always needed something to keep the early winter blahs at bay. And now I have one seriously happy kid, who is old enough to decorate the tree himself. And as he did so he handled each ornament with such reverence. It made my whole week just watching him.
Bonus: A welcome distraction…listening to the Pixies, a live recording of their first reunion show, at the Fine Line in Minneapolis last April. Wish I could have been there.
Amused by: “…when did the Flash developers get cool?”

What a hellish day. Involved lots of errand running, a flat tire, and the exceedingly extreme behavior of my overstimulated and overtired five year-old with autistic tendencies. Enough said. On the brighter side, look at these fabric donuts from sew dorky. They made me smile. And I’m going to try to salvage the remainder of the evening, by losing myself in the magic that is Strictly Ballroom. I heart my neighborhood library.
Bonus: 14 December Alan Moore interviews Brian Eno.
Plus: Shut up already! I’m liking this:
From Coudal.com, “After reading a story in the NYT, Jim’s wife Heidi decided that maybe there was a way to fight back against the obnoxious cell phone users that we all have to deal with in stores, restaurants, trains and pretty much everywhere else. Can design ride to the rescue? Jim and the incomparable Aaron Draplin think it can. So, as a public service, we introduce the reasonably polite SHHH, the Society for HandHeld Hushing.