"Like a graveyard...

I don't think that the scrawled response, 'drink water,' came through very well. The Peanut Board wants you to know that they can help you through the 3-o'clock slump. One New Yorker disagrees.

I went jogging this morning with Erin. Very short trip at a moderate pace. I just wanted to give her the opportunity to get a run done and give me the chance to loosen up a bit for my run tomorrow. Unfortunately, I've got to get in early tomorrow because we're meeting at the guardhouse at 4:15, where I usually leave work just before 5.

The Portable Atheist has been getting much more readable now that I'm in contemporary works. But, there are still some pieces that are worth skipping. Like one piece was solely a critique of some other work, not included in this collection for obvious reasons. I know I Should seek out this referenced work myself & then return, but I can't be bothered. Oh, and Richard Dawkins is much less annoying in print than he is on YouTube.

Found in 125 Street Station. No, I've not gone to the site.

I started reading 'The Portable Atheist', and I have to admit I feel very vulnerable when I do so on the train. I know it's not rational, but I recognise that atheists make up one of America's least favorite minorities. Don't believe me? There have been polls that showed that not only do a majority of Americans believe in angels, but an overwhelming majority believe that atheists are unfit to be president, or to teach.

Rational or not, I'm most worried that a casual aquaintance will think less of me for not needing or wanting a Supreme Being in my life. Frankly, I do not understand what triggers the Theistic Question in the first place. But back to my paranoia for a moment - see how ingrained the concept of 'atheism = moral failing' is? And this from a lifelong atheist.

Oh, and I want to talk about theodicy for a moment. Pope Guilty posted about it recently, and it turned out to be a word I'd been looking for. Out of space!

Every time I see the 'Are you clear enough to be a child protective specialist?' ads, I think of Scientology and I wonder how long until Internet Group Anonymous figures this out, too.

Today has me on a new NJTransit schedule. I should have checked it before leaving the house. Oh well. If I have time, I'll pick up a copy at my transfer. About to get to Penn Station, so off to the Drafts folder.

Now I have nothing to read, unless I reread the pulp that I didn't manage to return on Saturday. Specifically, it's one of the Kris Longknife books, 'Audacious'. It is thoroughly Escapist gung-ho military sci-fi. Lately, however, it has become even more jingoistic than I previously thought possible. For instance, the main people are all in the group of planets called the United Sentients. Anyone who isn't in the military is presented as craven and unprepared for when excrement hits the turbine. While our lead is a princess, her planet has a constitutional monarchy, with a parliament. Even though we're in the far-flung future, where Earth is a nearly isolationist power center, and our Princess is from the galaxy's Rim, people still get 20th Century cultural references—the Marines even sing the American Marine's Hymn, which, in case you've not heard it, makes reference to the "halls of Montezuma" and the "shores of Tripoli" in the first stanza. Recall that all those things are dozens of thousands of light-years away from these Marines. Oh, and all the various fighting men and women in this book are all witty and eloquent, while civilians are all shallow and often caught speechless.

But as I said before, it's nice, escapist pulp.

You know, I should post more often, but with less complaining. Or at least that's how I feel about it. Of course, I've said that a few dozen times already, so y'all must be getting sick of it by now.

People are never static, we know. We often assume we are more static than others, but that is a fallacy. Or at the very least, incredibly short-sighted.


I've been reading the Sandman books lately. Quite delicious. Thanks, belcantin.


You know, I think I am determining my limits. Which is good, because it means that I've been getting enough good things lately that I am learning when to say, "No, thank you." It is incredibly hard to do this to ice cream, though. Or sex. C'est la vie, I suppose.


Time to get showered, wake up Nick, and maybe even throw out some of the things my mom wants me to throw out.