Good Neighbors

This fence thing, wow. Is it stupid in here, or is it just me? I mean, I'm basically okay with pork bills, as long as they're non-egregiously idiotic.

But gee, 700 miles of fence... I hope nobody in Mexico has a ladder or anything. Or bolt cutters. Or crosses somewhere along the 1300 miles NOT covered by a fence. Or maybe comes into the country on a legitimate visitor's visa and then doesn't go home.

WHOOPS I'M GIVING AWAY ALL THE SECRETS.

Luckily it won't ever get built because they built in some extra stupid by not funding it and running it across a reservation. Whew.

Oh wait, that means both the legislative and executive branches of my federal government have wasted gobs of time on a boondoggle, perhaps as an attempt to distract voters from genuine issues. That's not lucky at all. That's um... whaddyacallit... horribly dispiriting.

I Miss My Girlfriend

Today I was talking about the word "fiancee" and how precious it sounds. Never trust a polysyllabic word with more vowels than consonants. Samuel Johnson once knifed a Hawaiian king for that, calling him "bruitish and uncivillized." (I read that on Wikipedia.)

"Fiancee" is dangerously easy to overuse. You don't sound like you're trying to prove anything if you talk about your girlfriend or your wife over and over. But no one is a fiancee for very long, so there are special connotations with the word. It's a reinforcement of how married you're about to be. If you say fiancee three times in one conversation, it's like you're saying, "I'm getting MARRIED soon. Because my fiancee and I are getting MARRIED soon. Did I mention I have a fiancee? Who is someone you get MARRIED to? Soon?"

Other problems:

• If you say it a bunch of times and get lazy about the word, it starts to rhyme with "Chauncey."
• When I type fast and misspell it, the word becomes "financee." Evil feminists are troublesome enough without easy puns to make their lives simpler. Like I'm just floating this chick until we get married, and then she pays interest for the rest of her life.
  
• The masculine version of the word, "fiance," is useless. Either make it look and sound masculine*, or make the word completely unisex. This missing "e" thing is too foo-foo. Freaking French.

*I suggest "Brawnmonster."

Hey, did I tell you?

Did you know I'm getting married?

Did I tell you yet?

Did -- yes... no, you didn't know because of the look on your face. I meant to tell you! I thought I told you. Sorry. I totally thought I told you by now.

Yeah, I know. It's sort of a surprise for us too, yeah, pretty fast. It feels really good though. I've never been happier for me.

No, well, you've probably seen her post a lot. Yeah. She posts a lot in the comments. I know, her blog is nearly dead. She never posts there any more. I asked her about it, but I think it's one of those things. Some people just blog for a while and then quit. I don't know. This is like, my third attempt at keeping a blog, so maybe you just have to try a few times before it sticks. I know, it's not like I post all the time either.

Well, thanks. It's... yeah. She's really great. She's everything I ever thought to look for, and some things I didn't know I could look for. She's great. I think it will be great.

Of course you're invited! Of course! We want your gift! No, I'm kidding. (I'm not really kidding.) JK! We're getting married in Dallas, in April, so that's kind of soon, and kind of far away from you, I know. Of course it'll be totally cool if you can't make it. I'd love for you to meet her, but I understand. No, but... we'd love to have you is what I'm saying.

Thanks. Yeah, thanks. It's great. Well, I'm happy for you too. I know, It's about time.

Hey, let's catch up some time. Next week maybe? Are you free next week? Okay, well soon then. See you next post!

Hugger Mugger

Last week some guy with a gun was really desperate to have my cell phone, and I didn't feel like I could say no. I also gave him $11. I would have given him more, but it was all I had.

Fortunately, a life spent playing role-playing games prepared me to deal with it.

Not because I invented an improbable heroic conclusion and then labored past good sense to enact it, but because long ago I did the thinking about this situation, so when it happened I was like, "Oh yeah, I've got a mental model for this. I'll just follow the script." I wasn't scared at any time. Mostly, I felt annoyed.

That rehearsal really shone when he demanded my wallet. I took out my waller, removed the cash, and held it out to him. He tried to argue, but the cash was closer to him than the wallet, and he already had his hands full with a cell phone and a gun, and what are you going to do? A mugger's only got two hands, man!

So he took the cash and ran, but on his way out he dropped a lighter and a some change out of his pocket. Poor planning! They'll let just anyone be an armed robber these days, I guess.

The harrowing part was that my girlfriend was on the other end of the phone at the time, and it's real horror movie stuff to have to hear that all go down and be so helpless. She said she would have been really mad at God if I had gotten killed.

I guess I would have had some questions for him too.

Sneeze Guard

I am allergic to everything in the animal kingdom except goats and rabbits. I encourage you to live with the mystery of that statement.

If for some crazy reason I ever want to add cats to my potential pet shortlist, now I can. For just under $4,000.

Allerca Inc., California, USA, says it has managed to breed the world's first hypoallergenic cats. People who are allergic to cats and buy one of these will not experience sneezing, red and itchy eyes or asthma - except in very acute cases.

The company says that as soon as the news got out people rushed to place orders and now there is a waiting list.

The company tested thousands of cats, looking for those tiny few that do not have glycoprotein Fel d1. Glycoprotein Fel d1 is what triggers allergic reactions in humans - it can be found in the fur, pelt, saliva, serum, urine, mucous, salivary glands, and hair roots of the cat. On finding a decent number of cats that did not carry glycoprotein Fel d1, the scientists selectively bred them.

The company wants to stress that their cats are not the result of genetic engineering, but selective breeding. Yeah, uh, that's just low-tech genetic engineering, dude.

Give Till It Hurts Politically

So what I did a few weeks ago was I went and got myself a job as a grantwriter. Now at work I get a daily update of headlines from the Chronicle of Philanthropy. (Something funny about the url "philanthropy.com")

There's a world of nonprofits that you never hear about, and I don't know why. It's just as interesting as for-profit business, and there are even more colorful characters.

Here's a news story that fell into my work mailbox today. It contains several fascinating observations in a compact space.

Federal Aid Reaches Few Black Churches, Report Says

Fewer than 3 percent of black churches have received federal funds under the Bush administration's effort to help religious charities, reports The Washington Post.

A survey by the Joint Center for Political Empowerment and Economic Studies concluded that because black churches have a limited ability to run social programs, very little of the estimated $2-billion in federal money available for philanthropic work each year ends up in their hands. One quarter of the 750 black churches surveyed have annual revenue of less than $250,000, the study found.

The survey also examined the political affiliation of religious organizations that received federal grants. Liberal churches tended to view President Bush's attempts to help churches with skepticism, but they were also more likely to apply for and receive money, the report said.

On the other hand, far fewer conservative churches, despite supporting President Bush politically, have sought federal aid.

The Bush administration might inadvertently have done some Democrat-style work while appealing to a Republican Christian constituency. I'm glad someone's doing it.

Cripes

Thanks to Sarah, I have been turned on to Geez magazine, an Adbusters for the curious and faithful and maybe the self-loathing.

The magazine is full of the Adbusters brand (oh, it’s a brand all right) of intellectual self-flagellation that starts with a genuine, admirable desire to know and improve thyself, and proceeds from inquiry to recrimination to eventual numbness.

It pulls like a tide, and then an undertow, page after page of earnest, “Doesn't modernity kind of suck? Are you doing enough? Didn’t you know you’re kind of not good enough?”

The answer is yes, I’m well aware that I’m not good enough. Now get off my fucking case.

But, it’s good bathroom reading, and I do enjoy the navel-gazing. I also like people attempting to answer the questions they bring up, and these Geez kids don't always seem on that bandwagon.

I can’t figure out if I like Geez yet. I think maybe I don't. But I have a subscription. And I like getting it in the mail.

If you’re getting mixed messages, it’s because I’m sending them.

Hot Enough For You?

I spent last weekend in Dallas. It was hot outside. I have known hot. I have sweltered. I grew up in Tennessee, went to college in Alabama, pulled a summer gig in Arizona where they tell you it's the heat, not the humidity, but they LIE because it is both, and you break into a back-drenching sweat when you wiggle your eyebrows violently outdoors.

One hundred degree temperatures and I -- we are not close, but we have history.

This heat in Dallas though was qualitatively different. I have been burned, pierced, and baked by heat, but I don't ever recall it weighing on me. This heat was a presence. It was heavy, trying to force you to the ground for the crime of breaking daylight curfew. This heat was angry. It personally disliked you and gave you the silent treatment so you couldn't even ask what you'd done that it thought was so wrong. It was as though all the greenhouse gases threw a party over Dallas and no one wanted to be the first chlorofluorocarbon to leave.

And I'm going back this weekend.

T-rex plays the role of "me."

Today is a good day I think for linking to Dinosaur Comics.

Exquisite Corpse Flower

For years and years I would hear about things going on in New York City, and they would sound great and fascinating, just as you imagine a fairy hootenanny sounds like a great time in the fantasy world of Zordenlandia. But you don't know exactly what that is, and you'll never find out.

These days, I still feel giddy when I remember that I am -- tops -- a three-hour train ride from NYC, where strange and wonderful things happen with alarming regularity.

Here is the latest, which I hope to visit later this week: the blooming of the corpse flower at the Brooklyn Botanical Garden.

The titan arum (Amorphophallus titanum) is one of the world's most remarkable plants. Native to tropical forests in Sumatra, it produces a monstrous four- to nine-foot-tall flower head, which releases a monstrous stench of putrefaction at peak bloom (another name for the plant is the corpse flower!). The species rarely flowers in cultivation—the last time one bloomed in New York was 1939. However, Brooklyn Botanic Garden's ten-year-old specimen recently began to flower. It's in peak bloom right now!

It's so monstrous, they used the word twice!

Sadly, all my New York friends simultaneously moved to other states, so I don't have free places to stay overnight anymore. But clearly, the opportunity to smell a putrefied Audrey II is worth a day trip if I can swing it.