340 meters per second

Trust only movement. Life happens at the level of events, not of words. Trust movement.

&mdash Alfred Adler (1870-1937)

Friday, July 01, 2005

keeping myself awake.

I know I've been quiet this past week; with my baby gone to Oslo for the Childhoods 2005 conference, I don't seem to be in the mood to put a whole lot in here. Makes me wonder who my intended audience is, really...

The conference web site is pretty cool and the conference's scope is amazing. Although I have zero competence, background or knowledge in the field, I think I'd have liked to see a few of the papers.

In any event, here's something: last weekend I went to Vermont for a day. My godfather was having a big bash out on his farm and, since I hadn't seen him and his family in over a year I figured I'd go. They're closest thing I have to a family on this continent (outside of my parents) and it'd be nice to see them.

I went down anticipating some trouble.

Although Vermont is arguably the most liberal state in the US and my godfather is a dyed-in-the-wool lefty iconoclast, I always seem to find myself in a bit of a sticky wicket when I go down there. Inevitably--and, admittedly, I bear much of the blame for this--I seem to get into a multilateral argument: multiple people (all strangers) and mutliple subjects: foreign policy, electoral law, history, geography... you name it. Suddenly I'm the queer-marrying, dope-smoking, FTAA-destroying (you're welcome), peacenik commie from that den of iniquity, Mawn-tree-all, in that modern-day Gomorrah: Soviet Canuckistan.

I'm embroidering some, but you get the idea. Fact is, 95% of the people I used to meet at these events were perfectly charming. It just felt like the couple of folks who were looking for a fight always gravitated to me (do I smell like prey?). Since I hadn't been in the states since September 12, 2001--pause for poignant effect--I wasn't sure what to expect. More than one 'liberal' acquaintance of mine south of the border had grabbed a prickly vine and swung over toward the right. Would I have to grit my teeth and be polite?

Turns out that no, no I wouldn't. I had a lovely time: the weather was outrageously beautiful up in the Green Mountains, everyone was in a good mood, the food was plentiful and delicious and I managed to catch up with some people I hadn't seen in a good long while.

It's nice when pessimism takes a kick in the teeth.

* * *

On a related note, we caught National Treasure last month. Unless you're a Historian--in which case the Surgeon General's warning on the box should not be taken lightly: your brain may very well hemorrhage at the liberties taken with the historical record--you could possibly get a kick out of this flick. We kinda did. It's fluff in extremis, with little in the way of actual thought required, but it it sweeps along breezily and isn't any more insulting than the average summer action-adventure whiffle ball. It's like Dan Brown remixed Indiana Jones on a cocktail napkin: a conspiracy-theory-lite romp through scenic Americana.

* * *

Here's something else: the one-two punch of "Haiti" and "Rebellion (lies)" on Funeral is killing me. 6 gigs? This week, my iPod needed 8.54 megs.


  • At 1:00 p.m., Blogger I'm basically a warm-hearted creature. said…

    re national treasure...hmmm, j and I couldn't forgive the piss poor acting, the horrible scene cuts, who was driving the second snowmachine away in the first couple scenes anyway, nor could we forgive the brand new shiny nails holding together a structure created many moons ago....come on people...can we say 'continuity?' i've given up (almost) on tv ... my need for pablum is giving way to a need for at least an attempt at something resembling quality. by the way...have you heard that reality tv writers are beginning to unionize?


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