A splendidly rainy day here in The Creek. The rain has been steady on the roof of The Shed since sunrise, adding a nice counterpoint to today’s soundtrack, which soundtrack has been blaring at ludicrous levels, making the neighbors apoplectic. But the neighbors are old and stupid. One of them is a hunchback and eats goats. I wish them ill.
Well, that’s welcome news…perhaps I’ll restore my Twitter™ account.
Me: …then get the motherfucker on the phone.
She: I bet Jesus never said, “Get the motherfucker on the phone.”
Me: Who cares? I don’t have time for that. Why are people always bringing Jesus up? Of course Jesus never said that…Jesus didn’t have a phone. Jesus didn’t have electric light. He just told people to be nice to each other and they nailed him to a tree. Two thousand years later and the poor bastard just hangs there, listening to people moan and beg for the winning lottery numbers.
She: You’re going to hell.
Me: I find your use of the future tense interesting…have you looked outside lately?
She: I’m going to lunch.
She: After what?
Me After you get the motherfucker on the phone.
Me: Like clockwork.
Today’s moment of Zen: The first step to not letting something bother you is to not let something bother you. Sounds stupidly simple, but it took me several decades to figure that out. I’ve been moving through the day like fucking Buddha…with complete nonchalance and totally unscathed.
Whats crackin’, dear reader. I’ve been away, doing my part for the war effort and all that.
Rewatched Hearts of Darkness today, Eleanor Coppola’s brilliant documentary of her husband Francis’s making of Apocalypse Now.” I needed that. It’s comforting to hear Francis rambling manically and desperately about what a colossal failure the movie was as he was making it. That the whole thing is a complete waste of inordinate amounts of time and money. It’s comforting because I’ve been spending a whole lot of time in that same head space, and it’s nice to know that he, like many other artists, were fraught with doubt and fear of failure right up until the night before their creation changed everything.
Anyway, all apologies for the absence…I’ll try not to let it happen again.
After the revolution, on my first day in office as President, or Sexy and Benevolent Leader, or Illustrious Potentate, or whatever of the United States, I will outlaw the observance of Daylight Saving Time. A recent poll of random adults at the bar waiting for a table at Red Lobster in northern California revealed that 90% of all Americans think daylight saving time is an outdated and pointless exercise in arbitrary adherence to tradition. The other 10% are idiotic twats. I have never understood how so many allegedly intelligent, free-thinking people could be so-easily convinced to do something so fundamentally silly. For four decades now, I’ve been listening to people embarrass themselves trying to explain their adherence to this absurdity, patiently enduring their assaults on logic and reason as they slowly reveal that they themselves don’t really understand this nonsense either. There seem to be three basic arguments these pedants of chronology employ. To wit:
Benjamin Goddammit Franklin, may God rest his sweet, patriotic soul, invented daylight saving time just like he invented electricity and he was obviously a genius and how dare you or any other non-genius fuck with Uncle Ben’s ideas. They didn’t put your ugly ass on the hundred dollar bill now, did they? Alright, look…you need to remember a couple of things. Absolutely, Ben Franklin was a genius. A great many of his inventions propelled America and mankind into the future that we enjoy today. However, Ben Franklin lived in a world without electric light and climate control. His nights were lit solely by candles and oil lamps, and even though his idea of shifting the clock around was pretty clearly meant as a joke, and he had likely been into his cups when he wrote this letter, it did make some bit of sense then to suggest that opening business an hour earlier during certain months of the year would reduce candle usage. American businesses haven’t relied on candlelight or oil lamps in more than a century. Even candle shops now use electric light and computers. The position of the sun no longer has anything to do with when we can and cannot work, play, cook, read, et cetera. If B.F. were alive today, I suspect he would want to pimp-slap all those who have mindlessly remained allegiant to daylight saving time. He invented his stove to more efficiently heat houses: he would certainly acknowledge that central heating and air is a vastly more safe and effective method of climate control, and would likely insist on having it in his house.
It will save energy and money. Poppycock. Patently untrue. In fact, the exact opposite holds true: hundreds of millions of dollars are lost every year due to employees arriving late for work, conference calls and meeting missed, and overall productivity lost. Doctors tell us that dicking around with the clock and one’s sleep schedule increases the chances of heart attack significantly, leading to hundreds of millions of more dollars lost in medical expenses. Sleep loss, the disruption of the Circadian rhythm, greater susceptibility to illness…all of things lead to lost productivity, lost money, and ultimately increased energy resources. And having citizens in the work force arrive home at the hottest part of the day ends up using significantly more energy than would be used otherwise. Just ask Arizona. They ignore DST (as does Hawaii) and they do just fine. In fact, neither of those states have nearly the same number of rolling blackouts during the summer as California does. We have them regularly throughout the summer, during DSL. There has never been a rolling blackout during Standard Time.
The farmers need daylight saving time to order to harvest their crops and get all their work done during the summer. I can’t even begin to understand this one. And I think that’s because this one falls in to the very strange category of many of the other lines of rationale I’ve heard to justify the menace of DST: people seem to actually think that DST adds an hour of time to the day. Like we ACTUALLY get an extra hour of daylight or the days are ACTUALLY an hour longer than they would be during Standard Time. To these poor souls I can say only that I will include you in my nightly prayers and hope that you aren’t a registered voter. Farmers go to work when the sun comes up, and they don’t spend the day watching the clock, waiting for 5 o’clock so they can knock off. Hell no. They quit work when it’s so dark they can’t see what they’re doing. They don’t give the slightest of damns if you insist it’s 5:00pm or midnight: just stay out of their way.
The practice of hourly timekeeping only began in the United States once train travel began: people needed to know when the hell they needed to be at the station to catch their train. Fair enough. And today’s world is governed by the clock. Fine. But let’s just settle on what time it is and then leave it that way.
N.P.: “Kaisarion” – Ghost
It’s Tuesday morning in Fecal Creek, and the state of the union remains unmitigated shit.
I’m supposed to drive into The City today for a meeting, which is bad enough, but now Spotify is down. I’m not going anywhere until service is restored.
Okay, service has been restored…I guess the trip is back on.
I had a robust steak sandwich lunch and a brief postprandial nap, during which I seem to have arrived at the following conclusion: Fuck it, I’m not going. The trip is off. Not to that fetid pit of a city. Besides, nobody goes to meetings anymore. Teams™ call or fuck yourself.
Well, who cares. I don’t need any more clients anyway. Not now, anyway. Gotta focus on war prep.
N.P.: “In Hell I’ll Be in Good Company (Metal Version)” – Leo
Mother of God, dear reader…everything’s spun out of control. I’ve just about gotten things straightened out, for the immediate time being at least, but it’s been a crazy few months. It hasn’t rained in a year, that insipid daylight saving time is going to rear its moronic head very son, and I just killed the first hairy scary wolf spider of the year. Wolf spiders were the second kind of spider I learned about as a kid (right after black widows, natch), and Anhedonia County is just lousy with them, and these fuckers are big. And arrogant. And far more confrontational than the black widows, who know when to make themselves scarce. #arachnojihad2022
Took the newly christened Panty Dropper II for a bit of a spin today. I have a few more adjustments and augmentations to make, but I’m liking it.
N.P.: “For Your Love Suite 2014 full version” – Chilly
A curse upon this empty sky! No rain, no god…and no change in the forecast on either front. I’m both bored and boring, both of which are completely unacceptable. I’m going to have to cut loose soon, throw some sort of orgy/goat dance. Like most other people, I’ve been pretty focused on keeping people alive and navigating a pandemic for the last couple years, which I’ve done with both aplomb and panache, but it’s left me bereft of bacchanalia.