2008 Notebook: Weak XXVII
gratuitous image
3 July 2008
No. 1,853 (cartoon)
I can destroy you.


4 July 2008
Green Fireworks
I was happy to describe myself as an environmentalist in the late seventies; in those days that was a synonym for pariah. Today, though, every scumbag and every evil corporation wants to be recognized for their “green” credentials.

The latest nonsense involves “green” fireworks for the American independence holiday. I didn’t look beyond the “green fireworks” headlines; I’m sure fireworks pose about the same threat to the environment as panda dung.

My favorite example of green fireworks involves the inhabitants of Longmire, a small settlement at the base of Mount Rainier. In the late eighteen-hundreds, they used to start forest fires to celebrate independence from England. That’s what I call green fireworks!

5 July 2008
She Whose Call Must Be Answered
Gabriel interrupted our conversation to answer his phone. He said “yes” a couple of dozen times, then turned off the phone.

Who was that?

She whose call must be answered.

Who’s that?

Depends on the day.

The day?

And the hour.

That too?

And the city as well.

I wonder why people like Gabriel live such intentionally complicated lives?

6 July 2008
In Touch With His Anger
Willy arrived at the bar in a very good mood.

“Where did all the smiles come from?” I asked.

“I’m finally in touch with my anger,” Willy beamed.

Willy’s a sloppy drunk, not a mean one, and I’m glad that, after years of counseling, he’s in touch with his anger. Nevertheless, I don’t want to be in touch with anyone’s anger, so I made an excuse and left after the first drink.

7 July 2008
Cheese Bloodbath!
I was late for my lunch with Fiona after I spent over an hour sitting on the bridge between Oakland and San Francisco after most lanes of traffic were closed because of a horrific cheese accident.

“It was a cheese bloodbath!” I explained.

“Cheese doesn’t bleed,” Fiona replied.

“It was a metaphorical bloodbath and beyond,” I admitted. “The highway patrol had three cheese balling tractors there, and it still took an hour to clean up the mess.”

Fiona looked skeptical, but she always does.

8 July 2008
Cuneiform Forever
I went to a talk tonight, where a cheeky youngster demonstrated the Internet site he’d created to capture the interest of “today’s youth.” Images moved, sounds bleeped, and the user had a hundred options to control a thousand variables. I wasn’t paying close attention, but I believe that the the color scheme changed every hour, with the color chartreuse reserved for bona fide religious holidays.

“In comparison,” the speaker boasted, “the pages on older Internet sites are the equivalent of cuneiform tablets.”

I agreed with the arrogant simpleton. I think cuneiform is a great medium; it’s worked for millennia. I doubt any of today’s Internet sites will be viewable in a few decades, without extensive reprogramming. If cuneiform provided a way to view photographs, I might even use it myself.

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©2008 David Glenn Rinehart