ABC News: Bush Nominates Alito for Supreme Court

Don't you get the feeling that all of a sudden, Bush and team have started to watch television. It's like each move and counter move is perfectly designed to integrate with prevailing wisdom of the press. The Harriet Miers nomination was kicked back by movement conservatives who thought she had no judicial credentials (because, well, she didn't...) ... here's Alito, with the mostest judicial credentials ever! Miers was too much of a blank slate ... Alito has lots and lots on his slate! It's like Bush is saying, "You want experience? You want a record? I'll give you the mostest ever!" And the media just eat it up. Having the newsmakers conveniently package the news into the storylines they've already written makes things so darned easy for them. The story just writes itself! Which, of course, is the problem...the nub, as it were.

One Minute Story: Comic Book Dreams

I was sitting on a park bench, dreaming.

In my dream, I was in the army. But when I fired my gun, I didn't kill anyone. They would just keep coming and coming, over the dusty, dirty hill that was dotted with patches of green and brown grass and wavy, straw-like grains. Then I'd look over the hill and they'd be gone, and the hill became an expanse, a valley, that went on forever. So I forced myself over the hill and then I fell and rolled, but I didn't feel like I was rolling and I couldn't feel the bumps and I should have been bruised but I wasn't, probably because I was dreaming.

And I stood up with my gun at the ready...but there was no enemy, only this empty plain that stretched on forever.

So I sat down and laid my gun on my lap and I had a smoke. Only I don't smoke. So I started coughing. So I dropped the cigarette and it set the grass on fire. And there was fire all around me like in a ring and I got up and gaped at it, open mouthed I gaped at it, standing, ready to shoot something. But nothing came and it was hot. And I was scared.

And then I woke up.

* * *

"So, what do you think, Doc?"

"What do you think, John?"

"I think I'm getting hot under the collar!"

"What is that, some sort of movie line?"

"I think so. Probably not."

"What do you think your dream meant, John?"

"What do you think?"

"I think you have some unresolved conflicts."

"Pffffft. Okay..."

"I think you're angry and helpless. And you realize your only enemy is the one you can't fight -- yourself."

"Well, yes. That's all true, but..."

"But what?"

"But I think it was about my frustrations..."

"Yes, that's what I said..."

"...about my inability to successfully gain super powers."

"That's funny..."

"You see, I tried to irradiate a spider. But it's not easy to find radiation. They don't sell it at Radio Shack."

"I'd imagine not..."

"Cosmic rays aren't easily available, either."

"I'm not familiar with..."

"So, I've been working in my garage on an exoskeleton. Mostly with scrap metal and transistors, some old machine tools and minimotors."

"And what will this exoskelton do for you?"

"The exoskel-e-ton will give me super strength, of course. and I'll be bulletproof. Mostly."

"So, when you say 'bulletproof' that's really a metaphor for ..."

"Protecting me from bullets, yes."

"And who would be shooting at you?"

"Villains. Look, if you're not going to take me seriously, I'm going to have to..."

"Are you threatening me?"

"... take you to my garage and show you. It's really cool."

"That's okay. I believe you."

"You do?"

"No, I don't."

Lines in the Sand

Some days I feel like I'm running around in circles. There's a starting line, just beyond the edge, but I keep circling just shy of it, every lap arcing so close that if I just stopped ... I could step right over.

But I can't.

Yesterday, I discussed with someone (OK... my therapist ...) what a thrill it might be to see what I can really get away with at work. Could I, potentially, finish a week's worth of work in one or two days, and then relax and enjoy the rest of the week. My answer: I probably could. What's scary about that? That I have no idea what I'd do with the rest of my time. But wouldn't it be fun to see if I could do it?

The problem is getting started. How do you get off the track? How do you 'just do it' when something, a little child inside you is screaming, "I don't wanna face this"?

So here's my answer: From hereforth, I'm going to take George Costanza's advice and 'do the opposite'. Whatever I want to do, I'm going to do the opposite. If I want to avoid work, I'm going to work. If I don't want to make a phone call, I'll make the phone call. If I don't want to write the article, I'll write the article. If I don't want to have lunch with my old boss, I'll call her and set it up.

God I hate this idea.

(which probably makes it a pretty good one).

My Perfect Day

As it happens, I hate my job. What would comprise my perfect day?

6:00 am -- Wake up. Realize it's 6:00 am. Go back to sleep.

6:45 am -- Shuffle downstairs. Get newspaper. Have cup of coffee from coffee shop magically appear in my hand. Drink coffee and read paper. Cook can of corned beef hash. Feed kids.

7:15 am -- Eat bowl of cereal, corned beef hash and orange juice. Continue reading paper.

8:30 am -- Shower and stuff. Get dressed: No suit...but lookin' sharp and comfy.

9:30 am -- Go to coffee shop. Drink more coffee. Write stories.

11:30 am -- Lunch! Gyro or falafel. Read magazine.

Noon -- Make phone calls. Take meetings. Do Emails. Do work.

2:30 pm -- Writing time. Another coffee shop. Don't bug me.

5:00 pm -- Dinner! Lots of delicious food! From a restaurant. How 'bout some ribs?

6:00 pm -- Play with kids.

7:00 pm -- Put kids to bed.

8:00 pm -- Watch TV. Zone out.

9:00 pm -- Work more ... send more emails ... while watching TV.

10:30 pm -- Seduce wife.

11:00 pm -- Read compelling novel. Or comic book.

11:15 pm -- Fall asleep.

Opening Lines

Someday, I'm sure to write a novel. Doubtless, I will choose from among the following opening lines:


Rene wasn't tired and she wasn't hungry. She wasn't anxious and she wasn't nervous. She wasn't happy and she wasn't sad. She was perplexed. And who wouldn't be: there was a sea lion in her living room.

* * *

Turbulence wasn't a word used lightly among pilots. "A little bumpy," they might say. Or, "we're hitting a rough patch." So when the speakers crackled with shouts of "Turbulence!" from the cockpit, Jack knew he'd best check the seat pocket for that little paper bag.

* * *

One thing I was sure about growing up: I would never be caught by an elephant with a pound of peanuts stuffed in my underwear. But here I am.

* * *

I like butter. A lot.

* * *

Swimming is easy. It's breathing that's the trouble. Always remember to breathe, my grandma told me and I took that advice to heart.

* * *

"Call me, Ishmael!" I shouted. But, alas, my love had gone to sea.

Thumbsucker - A Movie Review

Last night, I went to a free sneak preview of Pride and Predjudice, and, after a series of wacky mishaps involving my mother-in-law and a large, extra-spicy burrito, and upon discovering that Pride and Predjudice is based on a Jane Austen book, making it a movie which no self-respecting male should attend alone, I found myself $15 poorer balancing a Coke, a bag of hot, buttery popcorn, and a ticket to "Thumbsucker".

Thumbsucker is a movie about resolving the conflict between who you are and who you want to be. Seventeen-year-old Justin Cobb has an embarrassing habit: He picks his nose. Ha! Just kidding -- he sucks his thumb. He does it by himself, when he's stressed, or tired, or just wants to relax. Understandably, his unrequited jock dad doesn't thinks he's an idiot, and his celebrity obsessed, fantasizing nurse mom is enabling. Dad gets so upset, he writes his own initials on Justin's thumb -- MFC.

Justin is a nice kid, a little buck-toothed and a little mopey. He's on the debate team, where he's in love with Rebecca, who has big boobs. It appears we're headed for tender teen romance when, after their first kiss, Rebecca notices MFC written on his thumb and asks him what it means ... so responds, well, poorly.

So Justin goes on a journey to see how he can change himself -- to become the person he's supposed to be. He tries hypnosis, pharaceuticals and pot. He gets advice from his hippie, new age orthodontist (Keanu Reeves), a recovering addict TV-star (Benjamin Bratt) and his recovering teen debate teacher (Vince Vaughn).

And eventually, you know, discovers himself and stuff.

You know, writing reviews is hard, and I have to get back to work. It was a good movie. I liked it... go see it. Thanks.