oh, this makes me so friggin' proud . . .

really long blog post about stuff

Today I did many things. I installed AV software. I exported contacts and calendars. I taught basic networking and backup procedures. I uninstalled bad software. I uninstalled bad software that had cost this company a lot of money. I replaced that software with .CSV files. The RFC dealing with Comma Separated Values is RFC 4180 and is found at this address: http://tools.ietf.org/html/rfc4180. All of this makes me sound like a smarty-pants, but those of you in the know know better. a CSV file is a text file. Text files are cool.

Then I networked network printing goodness, which, as all of you know, makes its own gravy. Then I had two hamburgers and a regular order of fries at a new place I've discovered, McDonalds. Then I drove home. Then I went to the gym and ran on the treadmill and did some sit-ups and lifted a few weights.

Later I'm going to drink wine and watch TV with the missus. Before I do that, I'm going to work on my bestselling novel. After all that I'm probably going to go to sleep. While I'm asleep I'm probably going to dream about stuff, but I won't remember that stuff when I wake up because I rarely remember my dreams, and that's too bad, because I probably dream all kinds of cool stuff, like I have super powers or something. If I had super powers, I'd fly around and right wrongs. I'd fly around in my 2002 Ford Taurus, ending wars and bringing down a healthy can of whoop-ass on a lot of rich bastards. ("waterboarding isn't torture? then you don't mind trying it out for yourself huh?") I'd cure cancer and grow limbs back on all the people, and fuse spines and cause corn to grow in places like Darfur. I'd turn all land-mines into pumpkins and all automatic weapons into those plastic tubes you spin around, and they whistle? You know, those orange and green flexible tubes, and the only reason they are there so kids can spin them around and they whistle? The problem with those, at least when I was a kid, is that eventually we'd get bored and start wailing on each other with them, and that hurts. Almost as much as hot-wheel tracks. Ever get beat with a hot-wheel track? Those orange pieces of plastic about a yard long? That hurts like a m0thrfckr.

My friggin' dog is outside barking. Ginger is a beautiful dog, but she's the last friggin' dog we'll ever own because I'm getting semi-old and I'm sick of messing around with the dog, but of course, whenever I see her I immediately start baby-talking to her, and I'm pretty sure if anyone hears me they'll think I'm a crazy person.

I downloaded the movie NETWORK on the tivo, and I'm looking forward to seeing it. I saw this crazy paranoid video called THE ZEITGUIST on Google Video and now I'm all conspiracy theory in the head. But not really. I still don't buy the "911 was an inside job" theory, even though it is true the neocon fascists used it to invade Iraq. That's okay, I'm so tired of being outraged I'm not outraged anymore.

Well anywhoo, nothing happened today. Goodnight and good luck

We Were Civilians

~ ~ ~

We were civilians.

The war didn't rage really; there was just a steady flow of dead and dismembered soldiers whose names were on the Internet and on the news programs. The soldiers were black, Hispanic, white and Asian. Some of us paid attention and some of us didn't and some of us were devastated. If you didn't know any of the unlucky ones, then they were only statistics.

These statistics were given on the network news between the school shooting and the celebrity scandal stories. The numbers were tallied with somber patriotic video graphics. Maybe it was an American flag waving slowly, or maybe a combat boot-rifle-helmet combo. These graphics looked great on our high-def wide screen televisions. "What a shame," we said, shaking our heads. When the story about the latest breakthrough in the treatment of osteoporosis came on, we changed the channel to VH1 or ESPN and forgot all about the war.

We were civilians.

Some of us didn't think about the war at all.

With no draft, it was a voluntary thing to go to Iraq and get blown up. It was okay that those brave men and women were getting mangled because they were volunteers; no one was forcing them to enlist and reenlist.

If you could get a job and make decent money, there was no reason to go. If you came from a wealthy family, it didn't make any sense to go. And with the advent of yellow-ribbon car magnets, we had a convenient way to ease our conscience and support the troops at the same time.

That was our attitude anyway, and we went on with our lives as if nothing was wrong. Those were fascinating times, and we couldn't fit it into our busy schedules to enlist. We played newer and better video games, we surfed more rich and interactive websites on ever shinier and faster computers. If we didn't like the war, we could always say so on our blogs. We carried fancier, more feature-rich phones. We drove more technologically advanced cars, and while those cars were all built overseas, we didn't care because they had Ipod docks to give us music, GPS to give us direction, and DVD players to give us a break from the kids. Some of those vehicles got decent gas mileage, but most of them did not.

We were civilians.

Some of us drove massive pickup trucks and SUVs with shiny grills, and those things take gas. What a sense of awesome power these behemoths bestowed upon us as we moved between desk and cubicle and home and hearth. These machines carried us back and forth to work so we could pay our crazy mortgages.

We were civilians.

We didn't have time to go fight a war. Reality shows were coming up with more interesting twists. Starlets and singers were in and out of rehab. These were interesting times.

There were new drugs to keep us thin and happy. They put us to sleep at night. They calmed our restless legs and gave us everlasting erections. We had a pill for everything, so we were happy.

We were civilians.

Were other people making sacrifices? Sure, but we were willing to pay that price. Now we had a military base over the precious, sweet, life-giving Middle East oil.

With no draft, the rest of us could take it easy. There were sporting events to watch and alcohol to drink. We were civilians, and we did what our President asked us to do.

We went shopping.

Mojito

Today I spent the morning fixing many things at a new business customer. It went well. I don’t know if you’ve seen those Bacardi mojito recipe commercials, where everybody’s real cool and everything, and there are lots of hot women dancing around all sexy-like. Anyhoo, I made one of those drinks, and they are pretty tasty. A forbidden Lambada style dance party didn’t erupt in my house, but it is a cool drink on a hot day.

Otherwise, I have nothing to report.

Oh, did you see this?

our media . . . (thanks mark)