Weasels In Love 9 December 1998

Safe! The BART tunnel didn't collapse, the theater didn't burst into flames. I actually managed to meet Marie more or less on time and travel all the way to Berkeley and see Antony and Cleopatra.

I don't think I've ever seen this performed live - if I have, it's been a long time. Strange play. Both the leads were portrayed as being in early middle-age (at least), which was kind of interesting. Definitely not your standard youth-swept-away-by-passion story. Not a virtuous crew, either. All very free with strident proclamations of undying this or that, but 10 minutes later, if circumstance or advantage pointed a different way, well, sorry about that. Somewhat appropriate for the times, hmm?

The production was pretty good. Fellow who played Marc Antony was leaning a little too heavily on the bellowing&spitting=passion button. I was struck towards the end how very much like an opera the play is - I mean, the entire last quarter of it is about the death of the two main characters, both of whom live past their fatal wound to utter a few choice remarks. With the language itself taking the place of the music, of course - my gosh, what language! What has happened to us that we couldn't dream of producing anything equivalent? That damn TV, I tell ya.

This morning I had a dream where a man is lecturing a little class, telling them, "Correct thought is to right thought as obedience is to loyalty. One can compel obedience, but loyalty must be true and freely given. Just so, incorrect thought can be corrected, but no process can create right thought." Great. I'm incubating a commissar.

My favorite search to hit the site this month, maybe this year:

http://www.altavista.com/cgi-bin/query?pg=q&user=ns&q=fecal &c9s=%2d+fecal+coliform+water &c9s=%2d+bacteria+organisms+bacterial &c9s=%2b+feces+ingested+infective &c9s=%2d+diarrhea+abdominal+vomiting &c9s=%2d+intestinal+intestine+tract &c9s=%2d+parasites+parasite+veterinarian &c9s=%2d+contamination+contaminated+infection &c9s=%2d+solids+nitrite+cadmium &c9s=%2d+dissolved+oxygen+nitrate &c9s=%2b+bowel+colon+constipation &c9s=%2d+disease+infections+infectious &c9s=%2d+coliforms+filtration+colonies &c9s=%2d+symptoms+diapers+diaper &c9s=%2d+coli+microbiological+Escherichia &c9s=%2b+stool+rectal+rectum &c9s=%2d+sewage+septic+sanitary &c9s=%2b+urinary+incontinence+bladder &c9s=%2d+phosphorus+nitrogen+Kjeldahl &c9s=%2d+sediment+sediments+USEPA &c9s=%2d+wastewater+effluent+pollutants &stq=10 &c9k

Later: Have you ever had one of these coughs that are like the rude child of a stranger, on a overheated overhumid train car that's going nowhere at no great speed, who keeps demanding attention in this surgical steel whine, so that you start constructing your insanity defense to see if it might get you down to manslaughter?

Right down there about midway along the breastbone, an unproductive lazy sod that can't be appeased or ignored. It's an itch in your innards that can't be scratched, and when you try, by making deep raw noises like "ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!" you sound like Godzilla when he's drunk and mean, and people look at you funny. More so than usual.

Still More Later On: That's kind of creepy, the button to minimize this window makes it shrink inwards on itself towards the center, down to a dot, the way that the TV picture does when you turn it off (or used to, back in the days of cast-iron televisions and young men who knew how to keep their pants up above their butts - but I digress). It's kind of near-death. I'm overinterpreting. This is not an adequate substitution for conversation.

You know, if I put some kind of voice-activated microphone here on my desk to record the noises I make when it's late at night in the office and nobody's around that I can see anyway, I bet some people might think it was amusing. "** Hack ** Hack ** Hack ** ... Fuck! Stupid piece of shit! ... Hehehehehe ... Oh come on now ... ** HACKKKK! ** yikes ... " Not everyone, mind you. Just some people.

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

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All names are fake, most places are real, the author is definitely unreliable but it's all in good fun. Yep. © 1998-1999 Lighthouse for the Deaf. All rights reserved and stuff. The motto at the top of the page is a graffito I saw on Brunswick Street in Melbourne.