Ceci n'est pas un cigare. 11 September 1998

Oh, this thing. Sorry, I was drifting off into the Internet again. The Starr thing, you know. "So, like, we asked him if he was seeing anybody, and he was, like, 'No way', which was SUCH a total crock, because he was TOTALLY boning Monica, like, the whole time, you know. God, he is such a dick." "Shut up, bitch!" Oh yeah, high crimes. Ayup.

Is it possible, just slightly possible, that the result of all of this dreck will be to make the Presidency less of a Holy Office and more of a job? Or is it only a chance that's out there, but that someone has to grab to make real? You know, I would be very much inclined to support someone who just said, "Look, I'm no saint, all right? I'm not that nice a guy even, really. I'm not your buddy, I'm not your Dad. What I am is a pretty smart guy, if I do say so myself. I get things done. I know how to work with people. I know how to make deals, and come out on the good end of them. I'm not asking you to marry me. I'm just asking you to put me to work."

Ha. That's so much fun. I don't want to be President, I just want to put words in a candidate's mouth. Suppose that's why I like books like No Safe Place , Executive Orders, and Interface (a hilarious book if you don't know it, by the way), because they indulge that fantasy of a candidate who finally breaks down and acts like a normal fucking human being.

That's all we want, you know. I think it's true. Oh, there are probably plenty of people who do want plaster saints, but I'm beginning to doubt that that's most people. If it ever used to be, well, the True Believer portion is shrinking every year. I never would have thought that reality would actually affect the way that any large number of Americans thought about anything. Way to go, folks!

"Arrogant"? What do you mean? You think so? Naaaah.

Another weekend awaits, wa hoo, wa hoo. I'm getting to play with HTML and Perl at the moment. Work is therefore OK. No plans. Laundry. Must do laundry. Must wear socks. Movies probably. Maybe even start Underworld if I can find my copy, speaking of socks and newspapers and the other debris of a life ill-spent.

I was reading this sex column on the Web the other day, and I came across one letter from a guy who was worried because he felt like he was always looking at the breasts of his co-workers, even when he tried not to, and it was a creepy thing to do. Which gave me a queasy twinge of sympathy, since I have my own looking problems. It's hard to judge well because I get so self-conscious about it that if I catch myself doing anything like this, I think about it for a lot longer than I ever spent actually looking. But then, in the future, it's what I remember. So was I doing it all the time, or did I just lose the rest of the time? Creep, creep, creep. Aaaaaaack. I'm a geek! I'm not properly socialized! I'm sorry!

Pffagh. It's easier just to stay inside and make people slip notes under the door. I don't know if this is true, but I want to believe it anyway: a friend of mine who was studying Japanese told me the translation for what has to be the Most Useful Phrase I could ever learn:

Doomo sumimasen

means

I am heartily sorry for everything I have done, am doing or will ever do, thank you very much.

I am, too. Honest. Cross my heart and hope to be Jane Russell.

Damn, this repentance stuff is like a virus, isn't it? "I deeply regret that." That's such a lovely phrase. It's the "I am not a crook." of the Twee Millenium. Most useful because it means precisely that I do not regret that at all but I find myself in a situation where I must say that I do and try to be convincing about it. Plus the dessert-cart bonus sense of a contempt for the people who put me in this situation in the first place, the little twerps. A Swiss Knife phrase for these years, where everyone is in Marketing whether they like it or not. You're a suit, I'm a suit, get used to it.

Do you know they actually brought in ice cream yesterday? I want to marry the Snack Lady here, I do.

Willfully blind self-indulgent nebbish or amusingly quirky old coot? And how bout that local sports team? Discuss among yourselves.

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