A Line in the Sand

Hello, World! How are you? I bet you’re awfully sexy, even the ladies under the burkhas! Hey, I’m an American (that’s pronounced ‘Mur-kin,’ right, W?) and if the hot dog proves anything, it’s that we in this nation love mystery meat; if ever there was an equivalent in women’s fashion, it’s the burkha!

The burkha is what brings me here tonight, or rather the region of our tiny little orb that’s in the hands (mostly) of the folks who enforce the burkha on their women: the Middle East.

The more I read about what’s going on over there, the more I am convinced of two things: we should never have gone in and should get the hell out and never, ever, EVER look back; and that I think it’s about time that we stopped looking at what is happening as a Middle East crisis and just start thinking about it as Middle East culture.

Historically, this is the region that birthed ‘civilization,’ so it stands to reason that it is also the region that has had nearly ceaseless warfare and violence. Seriously, I don’t know how the Tigris and Euphrates aren’t just red with blood by this point. The periods of peace in this particular region of the globe are measured in decades, when its presence in history is measured in millennia. This does not suggest a good ratio of hugs to choke holds.

I am not smart enough to offer a solution, but I am lazy enough to suggest a cop-out. Let’s think of the Middle East like Sparta, or even better, Barter-Town. Yeah! You can have Mahmoud Ahmadinejad as Auntie Entity, and Ali Khameni as Master Blaster. “Who run Barter Town?” Would that make the kids Mad Max finds in the desert Israel? Wow, but there is a lot of allegory to be found in “Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome.”

Let's just leave, and figure out how to make fuel out of algae.

BTW, this is not the subject I had envisioned, and that I promptly forgot. That’s still lost in the incredibly dark, murky, sporadically active recesses of my memory. I just wanted to share this with you. Why? Cuz you, like me, believe furries to be EVIL.

-Zeepdoggie

What was that again?

I was going to blog about something, but I forgot what. I was on the train, and I thought of something, and I said to myself, “That is a great blog subject! I can really expand on that, go on and riff about that for a while!” I sat on the train, thinking of tangents, and the fun in exploring them.

But now, I sit here, and I have forgotten what the subject was. I can remember being excited about writing about it, but not what was worth all the excitement. That’s weird…

If I remember, I’ll write about it, I promise.

Sorry about the letdown. Maybe next time.

-Zeepdoggie

Where the hell am I?

Hello, everybody. It has been quite a while since I have posted, and I have several reasons for that. The first is that the last semester was awkward; I never found that nice, steady rhythm of work and learning that I fall into. So I was all manner of discombobulated and uncomfortable; writing about uncomfortable stuff is usually gold for me, but I can't write when I am not feeling any kind of flow.
Another reason I didn't write was because of something a lot more disturbing to me. Writing wasn't fun. It had lost its charm and energy that I usually associate with it. I don't think school had anything to do with it, since I wrote something creative for a class that was well received and I really liked a lot. But the act and art of writing just fell out of me, and I don't like that. The two stories I had been working on, one that had been in my head since I was fifteen and the other that I was working on with GringO, lost any joy in their respective creative processes, and as such I lost a lot of ground with them. It feels less like writer's block and more like "print is dead." Since writing creatively is my main source of stress relief, I am not happy about this. Any cures for ennui?

But I will be posting soon about my continuing search for the greatest song I have heard, and another post about my participation in Bike the Drive '07. If anybody has any suggestions as to topics or memes or anything, let me know. I could use the help.

Oh, and something I would like to share, overheard by me: "Let's '86 the pussy-spank, shall we?" Thinking about that one will cause an embolism.