Exponential Detritus

Guinness is Gaelic For Genius, you know. So drink to superior intelligence and listen to the Pogues and BLACK 47.

Here’s some lyrics about Michael Collins:

THE BIG FELLAH

Mo chara is mo lao thu!

My friend and my calf

Is aisling trí néallaibh

A vision in dream

Do deineadh ar&eacuteir dom

Was revealed to me last night

IgCorcaigh go déanach

In Cork, a late hour,

Ar leaba im aonar

In my solitary bed

Back on the streets of Dublin when we fought the black and tans

You were there beside us, a towerin’ mighty man

And God help the informer or the hated English spy

By Jaysus, Mick, you’d crucify them without the blinkin’ of an eye

Still you had a heart as soft as the early mornin’ dew

Every widow, whore and orphan could always turn to you

We beat them in the cities and we whipped them in the streets

And the world hailed Michael Collins, our commander and our chief

And they sent you off to London to negotiate a deal

And to gain us a republic, united, boys, and real

But the women and the drink, Mick, they must have got to you

‘Cause you came back with a country divided up in two

… in response to a blog post that Lizzie

may or may not publish…

“Soul Love “

Words and music by David Bowie

Stone love – she kneels before the grave

A brave son – who gave his life to see the slogan

That hovers between the headstone and her eyes

For they penetrate her grieving

Love is careless in its choosing – sweeping over cross a baby

Love descends on those defenseless

Idiot love will spark the fusion

Inspirations have I none – just to touch the flaming dove

All I have is my love of love – and love is not loving

I now technically have three full time jobs…

I’m just a girl who cain’t say no…

We shall just have to see what happens. More details to come. I shall certainly be busy, in any case. Lalala.

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Nine of Science (Despair): Experiencing mental anguish or self-pity. Grief. Depression. Insomnia. Escaping reality. Hiding from joy and innocence. Feeling isolated and alone. Self-cruelty. In the creative process: Your creativity is blocked by self-judgments and criticism. Forgive yourself and get back to the basics; recapture your innocence and rejoin the human family.

Angel of Science: “Quis basin demonstret? (Who would demonstrate the foundation?)”. Floating in the realm of pure or abstract thought. Objective, unemotional, and unbiased thinking. Mental speculation, exploration, meditation. A brilliant insight bursting through. Stimulus to organize or systematize. Precision and clarity of vision. In the creative process: An intellectual vision or perfect insight inspires you to rise above yourself.

mythology

detritus

opinion

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Had two job interviews this morning and both went well. Feeling slightly better about myself, but I have Maggie’s IEP assessment next, so that could change. Still, there’s nothing like a skills assessment at a temp agency for stroking the old ego. I tested about 9100 keystrokes per hour on alphanumeric data entry and 96% proficiency on a version of Microsoft Word that i’ve never seen before, plus got bonus points for having a “well written” resume and submitting it via email. How that translates into money in my pocket remains to be seen, but it’s something of an antidote to the constant negativity and focus on minutiae in my current work environment. You can actually be written up for taking a 5 minute restroom break off schedule or for being a word or two off script. It’s phenomenally degrading. I must exit as soon as possible to preserve my sanity.

Redundancy ensues. I’ve decided it’s time to leave my current thankless, lifesapping, no future job for another thankless, lifesapping no future job. I am never getting back to school at this rate. I am never getting the motivation to change my life ever, I’ve become convinced. I will never own a house, I will never have a job I love, I will always be a disappointment to my family and friends. It’s just a fact of life. Why don’t I get used to it already and give up trying? I used to be so good at that. I used to be so good at turning off life and watching it like it was on a television screen and just not caring. Instead I wish for stupid things like people to care about me or see some sort of talent in me or something that makes me other than a phenomenal waste of breath and space. Whereas I think most of the people I know would gladly forget about me forever if they thought for a second that I would leave them alone. If I died tomorrow, my immediate family would feel some impact, but everyone else would say “oh isn’t that a damned shame” and promptly cease to think of me ever again. I insinuate myself into the lives of others and try to make myself indispensable, because otherwise what would they want me around for? Certainly not my esteemed company. I am a service for hire, rather than a worthwhile person. I truly believe this. I am an ear for listening and understanding, but as soon as I open my mouth everyone tunes out because I am a fucking bore, I am a pompous ass, I am a big, fucking self important idiot. And if I hadn’t had so much potential to be otherwise at some point, it wouldn’t matter, but I am a failure. Utter and complete. I am the big Lazarus Mistake. They should not have raised me from the dead. They should never have let me marry or procreate. There are wonderful people who rely on my and I am no one to be relied upon. I am the biggest fuckup on the planet. Why do I aspire to anything other than that. I am a big fuckup who has a weblog that nobody reads. That’s what I am. Queen Fuckup.

“She who hesitates is won.”

For more of the same, visit The Random Oscar Wilde Quotes Page.

A myth dispelled on the Guiness site:

Is it true that you get a much better pint in Ireland?

For GUINNESS® brewed outside Ireland the water will be different of course because we always use pure, fresh water from local natural sources. In blind tests though, (with a bunch of highly cynical journalists!), none of our sample could tell the difference. That said, all GUINNESS® sold in North America is brewed in Ireland at the historic St .James’s Gate Brewery in Dublin. So, the only real difference you should be able to spot is the pub that you’re drinking in!

I must confess, after the initial skepticism, I’ve become quite the fan of Rhapsody. I love the on demand aspect of the service and the interface, which gives little bios and links and offers net radio stations which at least in theory will complement the artists you’ve already chosen as your favorites, thus expanding one’s musical horizons somewhat. Plus the chance to preview entire albums for a decent period of time to see if they might be worth buying and view entire discographies of artists even when they aren’t available for listening purposes. Slight frustration factors abound, such as the fact that the entire catalog of Scud Mountain Boys CDs can be listened to but not burned, therefore residing only in my computer until I can scrape up the funds to purchase the lot of them soemday. And things of that nature. But overall, I believe it doth rock as far as pay music services go. I do believe online distribution is the logical direction of the music industry as a whole and may in fact change the nature of the evil corporate beastie a bit if we make our voices heard. I also believe the glass if half full, though…

Reading Material of the moment: A Sideways Look at Time by Jay Griffiths.

DVD Rental of the day:The Business Of Fancydancing, written and directed by Sherman Alexie.

Rhapsody Addiction of the Moment: The Instigator by Rhett Miller.

Caffeine by Red Rose tea, french fries by Ore Ida, for everything else there’s Mastercard?