Saturday, June 21, 2003
Idle curiousity caused me to check out this link about lapdancing. Surprisingly, I found it in a blog named Totalitarianism Today by Alina Stefanescu. The point I'm making here is that there are worse jobs than mine--something I often forget. Yes, washing dishes at the zoo is no fun (it's a zoo, not a circus), but lapdancing would be worse I'm so sure. Look at the expressions on their faces. They really are trying to remember what time they told the sitter they'd be home or how they'll make the car payment this month. Their whole world looks so, excuse me, plain tawdry, boring and depressing.
Photographer Juliana Beasley left NYU's photography program after two years determined to make it as a photographer, except that it's hard to make enough to eat when you're starting out. So she danced nude and did $20 lapdances for eight years from NY to Reno, and always brought her camera. Her new book Lapdancer, from which these pictures are taken, is the result. She doesn't try to make it look glamorous or exciting does she? Good pics to show teenage girls who think they can just run away and become dancers to support themselves. Oh gross. What a waste.
Oh, by the way, don't worry that Totalitarianism Today has gotten totally off track. The link about the lapdancing was just one sentence. Then the author of the blog launched into a long post about Romania, talking about things I'm not sure I understood involving the world bank, and Romania's Rosia Montana Gold Corporation, and the Canadian Company Gabriel Resources Ltd. and so on into 10 year VAT waivers & corporate tax holidays. Long story short: political profiteering at its worst. Go read it.
But, boy, couldn't you just say that about the sleazebags who run those lapdance dumps: Political profiteers at their worst. Men taking advantage of women's place in this society. I just bet if a woman gets sick or pregnant she is just out the door. No benefits. No security. Nothing to her name but $20 a dance. She probably thinks it's better than being a maid. doing daycare, working for the post office, or maybe washing dishes at the zoo.
Photographer Juliana Beasley left NYU's photography program after two years determined to make it as a photographer, except that it's hard to make enough to eat when you're starting out. So she danced nude and did $20 lapdances for eight years from NY to Reno, and always brought her camera. Her new book Lapdancer, from which these pictures are taken, is the result. She doesn't try to make it look glamorous or exciting does she? Good pics to show teenage girls who think they can just run away and become dancers to support themselves. Oh gross. What a waste.
Oh, by the way, don't worry that Totalitarianism Today has gotten totally off track. The link about the lapdancing was just one sentence. Then the author of the blog launched into a long post about Romania, talking about things I'm not sure I understood involving the world bank, and Romania's Rosia Montana Gold Corporation, and the Canadian Company Gabriel Resources Ltd. and so on into 10 year VAT waivers & corporate tax holidays. Long story short: political profiteering at its worst. Go read it.
But, boy, couldn't you just say that about the sleazebags who run those lapdance dumps: Political profiteers at their worst. Men taking advantage of women's place in this society. I just bet if a woman gets sick or pregnant she is just out the door. No benefits. No security. Nothing to her name but $20 a dance. She probably thinks it's better than being a maid. doing daycare, working for the post office, or maybe washing dishes at the zoo.
I wonder what's new with Angelina over at the detox. She has the most glittery, exotic and cool life over there in San Fran with her hand-sewn skirts and her magic mushrooms and her Edgar Allen Poe on the bus when she isn't looking at the cute guys. She is fascinating woman. I just recently found the whole pictures and magic mushroom page and it knocked me out. I just have to keep up with the adventures of Angelina. Give her a click. She's the one who introduced me to Found magazine. Also definitely worth clicking on. I just hope she isn't overdoing it.
Here's today's thought for the day that came in the e-mail:
Novel Idea
My friend suggested what then seemed a novel idea.
He said,
"Why don't you choose your own conception of God?"
That statement hit me hard.
It melted the icy intellectual mountain
in whose shadow I had lived and shivered many years.
I stood in the sunlight at last.
It was only a matter of being willing to believe
in a Power greater than myself.
Nothing more was required of me to make my beginning.
I saw that growth could start from that point.
Upon a foundation of complete willingness I might build
what I saw in my friend.
Would I have it? Of course I would!
Thus was I convinced that God
is concerned with us humans when we want Him enough.
At long last I saw, I felt, I believed.
Scales of pride and prejudice fell from my eyes.
A new world came into view.
Bill W.
c. 2001 AAWS, Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, p. 12
With permission, Alcoholics Anonymous World Services, Inc.
This was such a tremendous spiritual awakening for Bill W. How many millions of lives have been saved from not just illness and death, but from years of living in a zombie stupor and just going through the motions? What if he hadn't made this leap of faith? What if there were no AA? Would people still be going to psychiatrists to find out just why exactly they drink? And playing games with their Antabuse pills? And talking about drinking in group therapy until they could hook up with someone of the opposite sex and do a lot more than talk, for days at a time?
In a very brief appendix to his book Alcoholics Anonymous (called the Big Book) under the page and one-half that is titled "Spiritual Experience" Bill W. closes with a quote from Herbert Spencer that is often quoted around AA tables:
"There is a principal which is a bar against all information, which is proof against all arguments and which cannot fail to keep a man in everlasting ignorance--that principle is contempt prior to investigation." (p. 570)
People actually die with the disease because they can't open their minds to a new way of thinking. You see them come and go in AA. The bottle wins again. They can't even say "what if." But I am thinking today of a friend of mine who doesn't drink when I read these two quotes. He is widely read, intellectual, knows way too much about everything. Still (or maybe that's why) he has contempt prior to investigation. There is nothing I can do or say. I certainly am not going to proselytize. How do you proselytize for open-mindedness? And he desperately needs help as far as I'm concerned. He needs it as much as every shaking alcoholic who walks in the door hoping for help while believing it's impossible to be helped. It's just a different type of succor he lacks and doesn't know it.
The great part about addiction is that if you don't get it, as in give it a shot, open your mind, try it on for size, generally your problems are over because you die or go crazy pretty soon. Or maybe you just get locked up, in which case you may be straight and then that problem is sort of solved anyway. So if you hang around the AA tables you get to witness lots and lots of miracles.
People come in and have nothing nice to say about religion, God, AA, mothers, you, America and everything else you want to bring up. They hurt and they need a drink/drug. Everything sucks big time. It stays that way sometimes for a year, sometimes less. The determined ones do what they're told: Don't drink/drug; go to meetings; get a sponsor; get some kind of power greater than yourself regardless of what it is.
Then gradually you see the miracle begin. The formerly miserable wretch begins to smile. You catch him making a joke one night in his comment, and it's at his expense about what a sourpuss he is. He stops talking about how much he hates coming to these "f***ing meetings, and mentions times that he was upset that he had to miss. He goes out after meetings with his new friends. He socializes on weekends with people from AA. And then one night, in a discussion about the third step which is "made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood him," admits to the group that he has come to think of them as his higher power. When tempted to drink he thinks of what advice they would give him. Sometimes he even picks up the phone and lets them say it. He replays their comments from meetings in his head when he's having a rough day he tells them. He gets courage and strength and comfort from them: they must be his higher power. Everyone is smiling broadly now. There are hugs all around. Another miracle being born. Some day he will change his concept of a higher power to a more personal one. The important thing is that he has one that works for him. That's all.
Novel Idea
My friend suggested what then seemed a novel idea.
He said,
"Why don't you choose your own conception of God?"
That statement hit me hard.
It melted the icy intellectual mountain
in whose shadow I had lived and shivered many years.
I stood in the sunlight at last.
It was only a matter of being willing to believe
in a Power greater than myself.
Nothing more was required of me to make my beginning.
I saw that growth could start from that point.
Upon a foundation of complete willingness I might build
what I saw in my friend.
Would I have it? Of course I would!
Thus was I convinced that God
is concerned with us humans when we want Him enough.
At long last I saw, I felt, I believed.
Scales of pride and prejudice fell from my eyes.
A new world came into view.
Bill W.
c. 2001 AAWS, Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, p. 12
With permission, Alcoholics Anonymous World Services, Inc.
This was such a tremendous spiritual awakening for Bill W. How many millions of lives have been saved from not just illness and death, but from years of living in a zombie stupor and just going through the motions? What if he hadn't made this leap of faith? What if there were no AA? Would people still be going to psychiatrists to find out just why exactly they drink? And playing games with their Antabuse pills? And talking about drinking in group therapy until they could hook up with someone of the opposite sex and do a lot more than talk, for days at a time?
In a very brief appendix to his book Alcoholics Anonymous (called the Big Book) under the page and one-half that is titled "Spiritual Experience" Bill W. closes with a quote from Herbert Spencer that is often quoted around AA tables:
"There is a principal which is a bar against all information, which is proof against all arguments and which cannot fail to keep a man in everlasting ignorance--that principle is contempt prior to investigation." (p. 570)
People actually die with the disease because they can't open their minds to a new way of thinking. You see them come and go in AA. The bottle wins again. They can't even say "what if." But I am thinking today of a friend of mine who doesn't drink when I read these two quotes. He is widely read, intellectual, knows way too much about everything. Still (or maybe that's why) he has contempt prior to investigation. There is nothing I can do or say. I certainly am not going to proselytize. How do you proselytize for open-mindedness? And he desperately needs help as far as I'm concerned. He needs it as much as every shaking alcoholic who walks in the door hoping for help while believing it's impossible to be helped. It's just a different type of succor he lacks and doesn't know it.
The great part about addiction is that if you don't get it, as in give it a shot, open your mind, try it on for size, generally your problems are over because you die or go crazy pretty soon. Or maybe you just get locked up, in which case you may be straight and then that problem is sort of solved anyway. So if you hang around the AA tables you get to witness lots and lots of miracles.
People come in and have nothing nice to say about religion, God, AA, mothers, you, America and everything else you want to bring up. They hurt and they need a drink/drug. Everything sucks big time. It stays that way sometimes for a year, sometimes less. The determined ones do what they're told: Don't drink/drug; go to meetings; get a sponsor; get some kind of power greater than yourself regardless of what it is.
Then gradually you see the miracle begin. The formerly miserable wretch begins to smile. You catch him making a joke one night in his comment, and it's at his expense about what a sourpuss he is. He stops talking about how much he hates coming to these "f***ing meetings, and mentions times that he was upset that he had to miss. He goes out after meetings with his new friends. He socializes on weekends with people from AA. And then one night, in a discussion about the third step which is "made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood him," admits to the group that he has come to think of them as his higher power. When tempted to drink he thinks of what advice they would give him. Sometimes he even picks up the phone and lets them say it. He replays their comments from meetings in his head when he's having a rough day he tells them. He gets courage and strength and comfort from them: they must be his higher power. Everyone is smiling broadly now. There are hugs all around. Another miracle being born. Some day he will change his concept of a higher power to a more personal one. The important thing is that he has one that works for him. That's all.
I must have been getting tired when I just wrote last night that Dennis Kucinich's bio was "impressive." I forgot that what's impressive to me isn't what most people would typically think of as impressive I guess. I mean his resume is not filled with government or corporate scum-sucking, greedy, back-stabbing, lying and manipulating positions of increasing power. He is to be greatly admired because he was has been honored by the Sierra Club, Friends of the Earth, and the League of Conservation Voters for his efforts in environmental causes. He has a strong history of fighting for human rights and workers' rights. His efforts on behalf of Cleveland's poor caused him to be honored by the National Association of Social Workers. I like that. And I like the fact that he continues to be a local and national advocate for the homeless. He grew up living in 21 different places, including a couple of cars, before he was 17, and apparently has not forgotten this experience.
Well, you can read it all for yourselves. And I'm sure there will be much more after he wins the MoveOn primary vote Tuesday and has all that grassroots support backing him. I do think this movement will grow. In the meantime, read between the cracks of this somewhat cynical report about a Dennis public appearance and be overwhelmed with gratitude. I know I am. I mean just to think that a man like this would even consider running for president almost makes me want to be an American again.
Well, you can read it all for yourselves. And I'm sure there will be much more after he wins the MoveOn primary vote Tuesday and has all that grassroots support backing him. I do think this movement will grow. In the meantime, read between the cracks of this somewhat cynical report about a Dennis public appearance and be overwhelmed with gratitude. I know I am. I mean just to think that a man like this would even consider running for president almost makes me want to be an American again.
Friday, June 20, 2003
Okay, one more post on Kucinich and I'll stop. Read his brief Bio. It is so impressive and so is he. I want this man in charge.
From a man who really knows, eloquently, something about prayer: ". Let us work for a world where America can lead the way in banning weapons of mass destruction not only from our land and sea and sky but from outer space itself. That is the vision of HR 3616: A universe free of fear. Where we can look up at God's creation in the stars and imagine infinite wisdom, infinite peace, infinite possibilities, not infinite war, because we are taught that the kingdom will come on earth as it is in heaven."
Here's more of Dennis Kucinich telling it, someone actually speaking it, like it is:
Because we did not authorize the invasion of Iraq.
We did not authorize the invasion of Iran.
We did not authorize the invasion of North Korea.
We did not authorize the bombing of civilians in Afghanistan.
We did not authorize permanent detainees in Guantanamo Bay.
We did not authorize the withdrawal from the Geneva Convention.
We did not authorize military tribunals suspending due process and habeas corpus.
We did not authorize assassination squads.
We did not authorize the resurrection of COINTELPRO.
We did not authorize the repeal of the Bill of Rights.
We did not authorize the revocation of the Constitution.
We did not authorize national identity cards.
We did not authorize the eye of Big Brother to peer from cameras throughout our cities.
We did not authorize an eye for an eye.
Nor did we ask that the blood of innocent people, who perished on September 11, be avenged with the blood of innocent villagers in Afghanistan.
We did not authorize the administration to wage war anytime, anywhere, anyhow it pleases.
We did not authorize war without end.
We did not authorize a permanent war economy.
Read the whole A Prayer for America and tell me what it feels like to hear someone proclaiming the truth of things right out loud. And beautifully too. I want to marry this man AND make him President. He wants a Department of Peace. He wants to use the defense budget for pre-kindergarden through college no-cost education and universal health. Take a click and see where he stands on the issues. It is unbelievable. I feel hope I haven't felt in so long I almost didn't recognize it. I almost want to be an American again, but only if he is President. He says one of the first things he'll do is get rid of the hateful Patriot Act and restore our civil rights. He will work to undue the damage that Bush's policies have done to the environment. Today I read in the newspaper about a 77-year-old great-grandmother who lost her balance on the el platform coming home from her maid job in Wilmette to her home in Bellwood, and was crushed beneath the train. Kucinich says he feels people should be able to retire at 65, that they've worked long enough. He does not want to see Medicare privatized either. He came to give one speech that I read about and as he walked to the stage they played Imagine. I hear the song when I read his words. Is he too good to be true? Will he be killed? Or will he be the victim of some insane set-up scandal? Will he just be considered, like the rest of the idealists, too plain weird? I plan to work for him. I don't want to lose this dream.
Here's more of Dennis Kucinich telling it, someone actually speaking it, like it is:
Because we did not authorize the invasion of Iraq.
We did not authorize the invasion of Iran.
We did not authorize the invasion of North Korea.
We did not authorize the bombing of civilians in Afghanistan.
We did not authorize permanent detainees in Guantanamo Bay.
We did not authorize the withdrawal from the Geneva Convention.
We did not authorize military tribunals suspending due process and habeas corpus.
We did not authorize assassination squads.
We did not authorize the resurrection of COINTELPRO.
We did not authorize the repeal of the Bill of Rights.
We did not authorize the revocation of the Constitution.
We did not authorize national identity cards.
We did not authorize the eye of Big Brother to peer from cameras throughout our cities.
We did not authorize an eye for an eye.
Nor did we ask that the blood of innocent people, who perished on September 11, be avenged with the blood of innocent villagers in Afghanistan.
We did not authorize the administration to wage war anytime, anywhere, anyhow it pleases.
We did not authorize war without end.
We did not authorize a permanent war economy.
Read the whole A Prayer for America and tell me what it feels like to hear someone proclaiming the truth of things right out loud. And beautifully too. I want to marry this man AND make him President. He wants a Department of Peace. He wants to use the defense budget for pre-kindergarden through college no-cost education and universal health. Take a click and see where he stands on the issues. It is unbelievable. I feel hope I haven't felt in so long I almost didn't recognize it. I almost want to be an American again, but only if he is President. He says one of the first things he'll do is get rid of the hateful Patriot Act and restore our civil rights. He will work to undue the damage that Bush's policies have done to the environment. Today I read in the newspaper about a 77-year-old great-grandmother who lost her balance on the el platform coming home from her maid job in Wilmette to her home in Bellwood, and was crushed beneath the train. Kucinich says he feels people should be able to retire at 65, that they've worked long enough. He does not want to see Medicare privatized either. He came to give one speech that I read about and as he walked to the stage they played Imagine. I hear the song when I read his words. Is he too good to be true? Will he be killed? Or will he be the victim of some insane set-up scandal? Will he just be considered, like the rest of the idealists, too plain weird? I plan to work for him. I don't want to lose this dream.
Wednesday, June 18, 2003
I give up. I hate the Blogger. Will they never get the Blogger Pro? Will it even be an improvement?
There is a little man who sits behind the template as I type. If he doesn't like what I say it vanishes or comes out as garbage. Believe it or not, at about the tenth time of typing Consume it started breaking down into sinking into shit, and then some woman started talking about what she was going to buy, buy at Walmart. I am not making this up. It was all tacked right on to the end of the poem. The little man in the booth DOES things like that to liven things up for himself. Then he started writing shit over and over faster than I could erase it. It kept appearing. Then sometimes I just think he is a relative of Ashcroft. I know he is a Republican. I end up censored and losing things that are not politically correct. Or just long straight lines draw themselves down the blog instead of my words. It is the most frustrating thing... And still I come back for more. What is wrong with me? Am I so desperate to write to myself online? I have a perfectly good journal. No one interferes with it. I really must be a masochist.
There is a little man who sits behind the template as I type. If he doesn't like what I say it vanishes or comes out as garbage. Believe it or not, at about the tenth time of typing Consume it started breaking down into sinking into shit, and then some woman started talking about what she was going to buy, buy at Walmart. I am not making this up. It was all tacked right on to the end of the poem. The little man in the booth DOES things like that to liven things up for himself. Then he started writing shit over and over faster than I could erase it. It kept appearing. Then sometimes I just think he is a relative of Ashcroft. I know he is a Republican. I end up censored and losing things that are not politically correct. Or just long straight lines draw themselves down the blog instead of my words. It is the most frustrating thing... And still I come back for more. What is wrong with me? Am I so desperate to write to myself online? I have a perfectly good journal. No one interferes with it. I really must be a masochist.
Okay, I give up. I have retyped this poem till I am full of shit, shit, shit. Here I go one more time from the last verse below: sink, sink into shit as deep
as you can go.
You must be on your guard;
buy away, carry it home
always consume.
Look around, make sure
they're not robbing you;
trample
any flower
any plant.
Buy, always buy
carry home
more than you can carry ;
consume, consume,
sink, sink into the shit,
shit, shit shit.
as you can go.
You must be on your guard;
buy away, carry it home
always consume.
Look around, make sure
they're not robbing you;
trample
any flower
any plant.
Buy, always buy
carry home
more than you can carry ;
consume, consume,
sink, sink into the shit,
shit, shit shit.
I have several overdue library books. Today I was waiting for dirty dishes and reading from one that's a month overdue: The Outlaw Bible of American Poetry, edited by Alan Kaufman, Thunder's Mouth Press, NY 1999. I don't consider my blog copyright infringement since I have no readers.
It is all-American, I think, although written by an Italian, Ferrucio Brugnaro, and translated by the much admired San Francisco poet Jack Hirschman
Buy, Always Consume
Buy, buy more than you can
consume. Consume. Fuck over
any relationship.
Step on everything and always
buy everything up. Carry home
as much as you can.
Stuff, stuff yourself with greed.
Don't look anybody in
the eyes.
Surround yourself with high walls
so neither grass nor human
voices can reach you;
sink, sink into the shit as deep
as you can go.
It is all-American, I think, although written by an Italian, Ferrucio Brugnaro, and translated by the much admired San Francisco poet Jack Hirschman
Buy, Always Consume
Buy, buy more than you can
consume. Consume. Fuck over
any relationship.
Step on everything and always
buy everything up. Carry home
as much as you can.
Stuff, stuff yourself with greed.
Don't look anybody in
the eyes.
Surround yourself with high walls
so neither grass nor human
voices can reach you;
sink, sink into the shit as deep
as you can go.
I have several overdue library books. Today I was waiting for dirty dishes and reading from one that's a month overdue: The Outlaw Bible of American Poetry, edited by Alan Kaufman, Thunder's Mouth Press, NY 1999. I don't consider my blog copyright infringement since I have no readers.
It is all-American, I think, although written by an Italian, Ferrucio Brugnaro, and translated by the much admired San Francisco poet Jack Hirschman
Buy, Always Consume
Buy, buy more than you can
consume. Consume. Fuck over
any relationship.
Step on everything and always
buy everything up. Carry home
as much as you can.
Stuff, stuff yourself with greed.
Don't look anybody in
the eyes.
Surround yourself with high walls
so neither grass nor human
voices can reach you;
sink, sink into the shit as deep
as you can go.
It is all-American, I think, although written by an Italian, Ferrucio Brugnaro, and translated by the much admired San Francisco poet Jack Hirschman
Buy, Always Consume
Buy, buy more than you can
consume. Consume. Fuck over
any relationship.
Step on everything and always
buy everything up. Carry home
as much as you can.
Stuff, stuff yourself with greed.
Don't look anybody in
the eyes.
Surround yourself with high walls
so neither grass nor human
voices can reach you;
sink, sink into the shit as deep
as you can go.
Tuesday, June 17, 2003
I got all excited yesterday about finding an e-mail connection to Dell technical support. Turns out it is the same old same old. It doesn't matter if you call India or go to a news group or camp out at Microsoft, no one will tell you what to do for an error (event) besides recommending what I was told to do today. One of my drivers won't start, the eplpdx02, to be specific. Now when I found this exciting e-mail inroad to technical support, I wrote and told them that I had made the hidden driver unhidden. The device manager had suggested that I might want to completely disable the eplpdx02 to see if a wizard would appear at start-up time and fix it. This sounded a little chancey to me, and I wanted to get their opinion on this.
All this is necessary, of course, because no Dell or Microsoft support site tells you what to do about specific errors (events) despite the fact that every single error (event) card in the event viewer has this message on it: go to http:/go.microsoft.com./fwlink/events.asp. When you go there, here is exactly what it says, "There is no additional information about this issue in the Error and Event Log Messages or Knowledge Base databases at this time. You can use the links in the Support area to determine whether any additional information might be available elsewhere." And they're sorry. And this is on every single error notice I've ever had. To me it's like seeing all the hype about Whoppers from Burger King in the windows, on the signs, on the billboards, on t.v., radio, etc. Then you get up to the counter and ask for a Whopper. The counter person tells you, "We're sorry. They are not available at this time. Please check back at another time. Or you might be able to find some elsewhere but not at Burger King." I mean when they put all those notices together didn't it occur to them that people would be counting on finding answers?
Because, as I said, no matter what the error is, Dell's technical support response is one of two things: De-bug and re-install (and lose all your files), or do yet another system restore. That was today's response: Do a system restore. And then they want to tell me how to do one. Like I haven't already done so many that I am out of days to go back to when the computer ran well, if it ever did. So I am forced to learn computer geekese from somewhere, and I'm not sure just where. I read Windows XP for Dummies and I was apparently not dumb enough for it, because it didn't answer most of my questions and it drove me mad with multiple, sloppy indices. So now I haunt the newsgroups and try to change my screen name when I find I am asking too many questions. At least there they don't just tell you to do a system restore. But no one has been able to tell me why my document files turn into pictures. As many times as I close my Paint program it continues to turn all my files into slide shows. And I don't care what Dell says, it is not a virus. Here is an example of a file of books reviews.
Finally, though, speaking of system restore, I have decided that I would most like to be restored to age 35. I am not talking about people and places or what I was doing. I mean just physically. I didn't smoke, drink or take drugs, and hadn't in some time. I worked out minimum three times a week. I swam minimum three times a week. I rode a bicycle every day. I was a vegetarian and had a very healthy diet. I somehow existed without massive quanitities of Diet Coke
Why, you might ask, wouldn't I want to be in my 20's or teens? Because I wouldn't want to be stupid again, that's why. Everything I did to my body was stupid, and, consequently, I had a lot of impaired judgment. I think the prime of life is much later.
So I am going to e-mail Dell technical support now. I will tell them that I can't do any more system restores on this computer because it has no more good dates left on it. I will tell them that it is a piece of crap and has been a piece of crap since I got it. Much like the first piece of crap (tribute to Neil Young's song) that lasted a month and had to be replaced, this one needs to be replaced as well. Maybe lucky No. 3 is the magic number. Or maybe I should just get a refund and start all over. But I do plan to inquire as to whether they can do a system restore on me. I would be interested in that.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Thank you for searching on this message; your search helps us identify those areas for which we need to provide more information.
All this is necessary, of course, because no Dell or Microsoft support site tells you what to do about specific errors (events) despite the fact that every single error (event) card in the event viewer has this message on it: go to http:/go.microsoft.com./fwlink/events.asp. When you go there, here is exactly what it says, "There is no additional information about this issue in the Error and Event Log Messages or Knowledge Base databases at this time. You can use the links in the Support area to determine whether any additional information might be available elsewhere." And they're sorry. And this is on every single error notice I've ever had. To me it's like seeing all the hype about Whoppers from Burger King in the windows, on the signs, on the billboards, on t.v., radio, etc. Then you get up to the counter and ask for a Whopper. The counter person tells you, "We're sorry. They are not available at this time. Please check back at another time. Or you might be able to find some elsewhere but not at Burger King." I mean when they put all those notices together didn't it occur to them that people would be counting on finding answers?
Because, as I said, no matter what the error is, Dell's technical support response is one of two things: De-bug and re-install (and lose all your files), or do yet another system restore. That was today's response: Do a system restore. And then they want to tell me how to do one. Like I haven't already done so many that I am out of days to go back to when the computer ran well, if it ever did. So I am forced to learn computer geekese from somewhere, and I'm not sure just where. I read Windows XP for Dummies and I was apparently not dumb enough for it, because it didn't answer most of my questions and it drove me mad with multiple, sloppy indices. So now I haunt the newsgroups and try to change my screen name when I find I am asking too many questions. At least there they don't just tell you to do a system restore. But no one has been able to tell me why my document files turn into pictures. As many times as I close my Paint program it continues to turn all my files into slide shows. And I don't care what Dell says, it is not a virus. Here is an example of a file of books reviews.
Finally, though, speaking of system restore, I have decided that I would most like to be restored to age 35. I am not talking about people and places or what I was doing. I mean just physically. I didn't smoke, drink or take drugs, and hadn't in some time. I worked out minimum three times a week. I swam minimum three times a week. I rode a bicycle every day. I was a vegetarian and had a very healthy diet. I somehow existed without massive quanitities of Diet Coke
Why, you might ask, wouldn't I want to be in my 20's or teens? Because I wouldn't want to be stupid again, that's why. Everything I did to my body was stupid, and, consequently, I had a lot of impaired judgment. I think the prime of life is much later.
So I am going to e-mail Dell technical support now. I will tell them that I can't do any more system restores on this computer because it has no more good dates left on it. I will tell them that it is a piece of crap and has been a piece of crap since I got it. Much like the first piece of crap (tribute to Neil Young's song) that lasted a month and had to be replaced, this one needs to be replaced as well. Maybe lucky No. 3 is the magic number. Or maybe I should just get a refund and start all over. But I do plan to inquire as to whether they can do a system restore on me. I would be interested in that.
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My doctor had the cheeriest thing to say to me this afternoon as he fixed me up. I came in with my two-month- old, untreated. infected cat bite. We both had a moderate laugh about the fact that the cat (mine) never had had its shots, and that if I had had rabies I'd be dead by now. He is not excited by much, one of the things I like about him. I forgive him for the obligatory disparaging comments about my Diet Coke and cigarette breath. He is East European and very intellectual. Normally I am reading the paper, and we exchange unpleasantries about what hell on earth the current regime in this country is. I know that he just got back from Europe, and I expected him to be more depressed than usual about the current state of things. Instead he surprised me by saying in reply to my comment that soon Bush would see to it that there was no more Medicaid. "I don't think he'll be around long enough. This situation in Iraq has really cost him." Or something to that effect. What sterling words of joy and optimism! Does he really give Americans credit for being that intelligent? I had just read the three part series in Salon Part I, Part II and Part III but for some reason it hadn't buoyed me up the way this quiet man's throw-off comment had. Always before he and his wife had made such very dark, hopeless comments about the state of the nation. They hadn't even worried about appearing anti-American. And now this ray of Pollyanna-like hope on a sunshiney day. I felt like skipping out of his office, but I was afraid my band-aid would come off. From the Eastern European lips to God's ears, as they say.
I'm back and I'm proud. I'm raving and I'm a bonafide lunatic. I read something in a great book that I skimmed that inspired me to come back to my humble blog. The book is by Brenda Ueland and it's If You Want to Write. Here's what she wrote in a letter to a friend she wanted to encourage to get back to writing, "Forgive me, but perhaps you should write again. I think there is something necessary and life-giving about 'creative work' (forgive the term). A state of excitement. And it is like a faucet: nothing comes unless you turn it on, and the more you turn it on, the more comes.
"It is our nasty twentieth century materialism that makes us feel: what is the use of writing, painting, etc. unless one has an audience or gets cash for it? Socrates and the men of the Renaissance did so much because the rewards were intrinsic, i.e., the enlargement of the soul.
"Yes we are all thoroughly materialistic about such things. 'What's the use?' we say, of doing anything unless you make money or get applause? for when a man is dead he is dead.' Socrates and the Greeks decided that a man's life should be devoted to 'the tendance (sic) of the Soul (Soul included intelligence, imagination, spirit, understanding, personality) for the soul lived eternally, in all probability.
"I think it is all right to work for money, to work to have things enjoyed by people, even very limited ones; but the mistake is to feel that the work, the effort, the search is not the important and the exciting thing. One cannot strive to write a cheap, popular story without learning more about cheapness. But enough. I may very well be getting to raving." (pp25-26)
I will take her advice and continue to rave, speaking of raving, to my imaginary readers. It certainly isn't the first time I've been accused of talking to myself. It's a healthy form of mind/finger exercise. I pay more attention to the world around me looking for shiny bits to bring back to the blog. I read the news more attentively, and with a responding voice that finds its way to print besides the articles that become linked with my comments. It's fun. I like it. I can write anything. I can post or link anything. So what if Blogcontrol gives my stats for the week as 0,0,0,0,0,0, and 0. What hurt worse, to be honest, was that one friend may have checked out the blog, and only wrote to say that the font was purposefully chosen by me to be large to make people feel like insects crawling up to my words. I don't chose the font. In fact, with minor exceptions, I don't fool with the template since some disastrous color adventures.
I still don't understand this moody old thing. I just lost about two pages of blog. Good thing I'm only writing for me. I read it anyway. I have no idea where it went or why. It was all about what I've been thinking about lately. I guess I should know that anyhow.
"It is our nasty twentieth century materialism that makes us feel: what is the use of writing, painting, etc. unless one has an audience or gets cash for it? Socrates and the men of the Renaissance did so much because the rewards were intrinsic, i.e., the enlargement of the soul.
"Yes we are all thoroughly materialistic about such things. 'What's the use?' we say, of doing anything unless you make money or get applause? for when a man is dead he is dead.' Socrates and the Greeks decided that a man's life should be devoted to 'the tendance (sic) of the Soul (Soul included intelligence, imagination, spirit, understanding, personality) for the soul lived eternally, in all probability.
"I think it is all right to work for money, to work to have things enjoyed by people, even very limited ones; but the mistake is to feel that the work, the effort, the search is not the important and the exciting thing. One cannot strive to write a cheap, popular story without learning more about cheapness. But enough. I may very well be getting to raving." (pp25-26)
I will take her advice and continue to rave, speaking of raving, to my imaginary readers. It certainly isn't the first time I've been accused of talking to myself. It's a healthy form of mind/finger exercise. I pay more attention to the world around me looking for shiny bits to bring back to the blog. I read the news more attentively, and with a responding voice that finds its way to print besides the articles that become linked with my comments. It's fun. I like it. I can write anything. I can post or link anything. So what if Blogcontrol gives my stats for the week as 0,0,0,0,0,0, and 0. What hurt worse, to be honest, was that one friend may have checked out the blog, and only wrote to say that the font was purposefully chosen by me to be large to make people feel like insects crawling up to my words. I don't chose the font. In fact, with minor exceptions, I don't fool with the template since some disastrous color adventures.
I still don't understand this moody old thing. I just lost about two pages of blog. Good thing I'm only writing for me. I read it anyway. I have no idea where it went or why. It was all about what I've been thinking about lately. I guess I should know that anyhow.
