Some time ago I resolved to write every day, or near enough to every day as I could muster. That may have been a month ago.
Arizona provides no shortage of topics, of course, and if Arizona happens to oversleep on the odd Tuesday the rest of the nation reliably pitches in. What has our state legislature dreamed up over the past 72 hours? Bible classes in public schools. Carrying concealed weapons on college campuses. Defining the start of life as the moment an egg gets smacked by a wayward sperm. The week before that? Banning both Mexican-American studies and any books that might have been used in its classes. Oh, and our esteemed governor thought it was a good idea to wag her finger in the face of that black guy who had the nerve to ACORN his way into the White House, from Kenya, with Saul Alinsky. And Mexicans. Or something.
Beyond the borders, the loathsome Komen foundation took a break from suing the pants off anyone who used the color pink without permission to pull grants from Planned Parenthood, because OMG abortion and Jesus, which prompted a few god-botherers to say well bless your hearts; get back to us when you've pulled the plug on stem cell research too.
In the world of sports, the WPS finally imploded into a giant ball of Dan Borislow-fueled WTF. While many players tweeted their shock and sadness, many more--specifically, the national team players last seen in magicJack shirts--were strangely silent. Then Ella Masar dropped this bomb and the giant ball morphed into HOLY FUCKING SHIT WHAT THE FLYING FUCK ARGH ARGH ARGH GAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH, and every ounce of goodwill I had managed to work back up for Wambach evaporated like a drop of spit on, I don't know, the surface of the fucking sun or something.
Yes. I am 44 years old. I am old enough to know better than to have human heroes. But I do anyway, and I expect some semblance of social graces from them, and when they are shown to act like even bigger asswipes than the general population, I take it hard. Who's left? Krieger, I suppose, although she is having her ACL stapled back together as I type. The ball? Maybe I can root for the ball.
What is good in the world at this moment? Last weekend I went to a surprise birthday party for one of my friends, and spent a lovely evening chatting with people I've worked with forever but don't seem to find the time to talk to very often. That was good. Other than that? World, you are on notice.
1 comment:
It sucks when the ONLY thing good in the world is a birthday party. Didn't Dorothy say something years ago about it being "in your own back yard."
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