One: I want to believe. I’m not sure I can. You see, I turned eighteen in 1996, but due to a quirk of calendars (My birthday falls approximately two and a half weeks *after* election day), the first presidential election I was able to participate in was the 2000 clusterfsck. And, in 2004, I let my hopes get too high only to be dashed on the rocks of reality. I’m not sure I’m over that. I understand Barack Obama is not John Kerry, and, despite the fact McCain votes with him 90+% of the time, John McCain is not George W. Bush. But I still expect the Republicans to do everything in their power to take this one away. And that scares me.
Because I know that truth number two is thus: The world is changing. Thus, the United States must change as well, or it will die. And as Obama put it so well last night, just because I’m somewhat liberal in my political beliefs does not mean that I hate this country and want it to die. Far from it. I’m glad a Democrat actually decided to point out that Republicans don’t have a fscking monopoly on patriotism in this country.
Anyway, short post:
1) I want to believe; I’m not sure I can.
2) America must change or America will die.
3) I love my country.
Anyway, I have to go up to Redding to go to my cousin’s wedding and hang out with the *ahem* more conservative members of my family. I’ll try to find internet from there; if I don’t, well I’ll see y’all after Labor Day.
oOPS…sorry about that, kitten on my keyboard. Found the CapsLock key too. Anyway, the neighbor boys found this little guy last night and brought him to us, as the local “cat people”. Unfortunately, I’m going to have to call the animal shelter and see if they’ll take him. Normally, we’d hold the feisty little guy and put up signs, but there have been ironclad plans made for this weekend since June of last year. *sigh*
But if I were in the sort of situation that would enable me to keep a kitten, you bet like heck I’d do so.===========””””””””””””””””””””””====================
ack, kitten on keyboard again…
Anyway, just wanted to show you pictures of kitten. More pictures here
I finally got around to unpacking the 38 lb duffle and decided to take this picture. This is the collection of books I had signed at Worldcon (or otherwise was collected around that period). Technically, I got my copy of Plague War before Worldcon, but my original plans were to get it and have Jeff Carlson sign it at Worldcon — luckily, Jeff was doing a signing at the Roseville Barnes and Noble the Saturday before Worldcon. Also, the Feghoot book was a lovely parting gift for attempting to compete at Win Tom Whitmore’s Books, and is not signed, although it comes from this worldcon. There are also two unpictured books as they were not in the bag in question, but I’ve listed them below.
No, I did not have an ounce of fun in Denver. I resent the implication that I might have had fun. ;)
So, there I was, poking around LJ, when I found that shadesong had pointed at this entry of haikujaguar‘s. (She apparently does them every month, if you’re feeling inclined to watch that journal.) Feeling somewhat like the universe wanted to say something to me, I posted a response that read:
I think I’ll be daring enough. The use will probably be a combination of one and four in your list, because I think I’m approaching a cusp.
And today I got my response. It read:
So there’s this Cell you’ve been in for a while, and it’s a comfortable Cell but as you’ve noticed it’s a little too small for you and… it would be nice to see the sun a while. The kicker is that you went into the Cell because it was safe. At the time, anyway. Now it’s just boring and you figure, “That thing that drove me in here is probably long gone.”
So you pop out of the Cell and right there, staring you in the face is a Murderer: that thing, that person, that situation that was trying to beat you down, smother the growth in you, steal some of the stuff that made life worthwhile.
“WTHBBQ!” you think, “YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE GONE BY NOW.”
Now, I want you to consider the absurdity of this situation. You’ve been safe in here for quite a while, waiting for this Murderer to move on, and you were pretty sure he’d get just as bored as you were after all this time, and yet… he’s still out here. Except you’ve been indoors and he’s been skulking outside and he’s a little underfed and a lot bedraggled and he needs a bath and he looks less scary and more like a scarecrow…
So you say: “BOO!”
And the Murderer goes “!!!” and runs off.
Maybe the Murderer was dangerous back then. But… I think you’re bigger than him now. :)
I have a few ideas, obviously, as to what this might mean. I’d love to hear from friends, though, as to their thoughts, as those often offer clarity to my otherwise jumbled head. (That and my friends are just plain awesome at offering interesting thoughts to ponder.)
Just letting all two and one quarter of my adoring fans that my enemies have failed once again in bringing down my plane and I am back in Sactown.
More to be said about both inbound and outbound reading material when it comes up, and … I’m half-pondering an essay that seems to want to be titled ‘Why I hate being a neofan”. It’s nothing more than a couple stray thoughts at the moment, and I think I’m going to hold until I can rework a piece I wrote for my eAPA fanzine on Core and Big Tent Fandom and write “Belgium” for johnnyeponymous.
At Worldcon, and having a blast. I’ve done some filking, hung around in consuite, went to a panel, trolled the dealer’s room, partied with folks who want to have a Worldcon in a bleak post-nuclear wasteland and have already spent too much money. And it’s only Thursday.
(But that’s okay!)
Also, I nearly took John Scalzi out with my backpack in the reg line. The best part is? When I did that, I didn’t realize it was Scalzi. (Imagine my surprise when the nice dude behind me who’s been cool about the backpack thing walks up to the reg table (while I’ve got my badge and am waiting for the goodie bag) and says “I’m John Scalzi.”)
Yeah. I’m having a blast. Wish you all were here.
Anyway, there are other things I ought to be doing other than hanging out on the computer, so I’m going to do them. See you all later!
If all goes according to plan, this should post while I’m standing at the baggage area in DIA waiting for my bags to be offloaded from the plane, if not moving outward into the greater Denver area.
Which means that I can now add Colorado to the list of states I have been in briefly, not counting entire visits spent inside an airport. (If that were the case, I would add Kentucky, Georgia, and Massachusetts to this list.)
Of course, this story’s been about twenty-eight years in the making. It starts with a two year old in Redding. This was back in the bad old days before airline deregulation, which meant that a couple airlines actually found it profitable to run jets into Redding.
Now, my dad worked at the airport, so I practically grew up there, conning travelers into buying me candy from the vending machines as soon as I could talk. And because I was always there, the airport employees adopted me and gave me free run of the place.
Maybe I was destined to work with computers, because a story that’s often told about me is that I once brought an airline’s computer down when I was barely two. I had found the keyboard open and decided to smash around on the keyboard, much like a two year old does. My mother tried to get me away from it, but the airline employees dissuaded her, saying they had locked the computer and I couldn’t do anything to hurt it.
And so they let me be until a customer came, and they found their computer unresponsive. It took a reboot to get things running again. Nobody was quite sure how I’d done it, but it had happened, just as if I had decided to show them just what I could do. I like to think it was because I was destined to work with the things for a living.
Of course, you might ask what this has to do with the flight tonight, although I’m sure the more shrewd of you has guessed.
The airline all those many years ago is the one I’m flying to Denver tonight — Frontier Airlines.