Cogito, Ergo Sumana for 2003 March

# 02 Mar 2003, 10:22AM GMT+5:30: I have finished several books recently, such as Mostly Harmless (which I understand much better than I did ten years ago, and which touches me) and Jacques Pepin's memoirs and Ved Mehta's essay collection. I hope to tell you about the Mehta and Pepin books soon. Right now I'm reading Crescent, a delicious to-be-published novel by Diana Abu-Jaber. But for now: the Sally Lockhart series by good old Phil Pullman.

Half a year ago, as Leonard celebrated his birthday in Bakersfield with bouts of nausea, I devoured The Ruby in the Smoke, staying up late to eat one fudge-dipped strawberry page after another. The next day I had to drive up to SF, tired and silent (Leonard couldn't talk much), and I waited six months more to move on to The Shadow in the North, The Tiger in the Well, and the guest-starring-Sally-Lockhart The Tin Princess. I read all those in about a week. They entranced me even as each successive book got on my nerves more and more.

Pullman uses his share of Connie Willis-like plot contrivances that only frustrate the protagonists and reader. Adelaide in particular fulfills Ebert's Law of Economy of Character Development. But even that I can forgive when he pulls (ha) it off, which he often does. (Warning: The Tin Princess especially suffers from Willis Disease, being Pullman's non-supernatural novel of international intrigue and warfare. Anticlimactic ending, too.)

The thing that really made me gape was a subplot in The Tiger in the Well, where Pullman enlists turn-of-the-century socialism and his plot in each other's service. It's Bizarro Ayn Rand. In a climactic showdown with the villain, Sally tells him (paraphrase): "You're not evil. I've seen evil. Evil isn't exotic. Evil doesn't have an accent. Evil is five children living in one room, families who don't have enough to eat..." It's didactic and disorienting, but doesn't quite overpower the plot.

Leonard envisions a scenario where someone confronts Dr. Evil (of the Austin Powers movies) with this speech, and Dr. Evil realizes that his pro forma evil was not really evil, and in fact is cancelled out by his philanthropic works.

Filed under: Reading

# 02 Mar 2003, 10:27AM: Real Live Preacher's song of praise really sounds like Mirabai, as I remember Mirabai's songs from Amar Chitra Katha.

# 02 Mar 2003, 06:40PM: Well-Rounded, Please: Weeks ago, I scammed some free tickets off KALX and my sister and I watched Aeros, an international gymnastics/dance troupe, perform at Zellerbach Hall. I distinctly remember thinking, "Wow! In a few days, I will be on that stage, and thousands of people will come in and look at their programs and see my little blurb!"

Aeros went over much better than I did. Nandini and I enjoyed the dance, laughing and gasping, but I've never done gymnastics, and it's been fifteen years since I danced on a stage. So I couldn't appreciate their work the way I appreciate, say, stand-up, or (to a lesser extent) singing and writing.

Today I got a phone call from a student filmmaker. I'd auditioned for his short film, and he called to offer me the part. So I'll brush up my acting chops over the next month, and better appreciate that particular art.

# 04 Mar 2003, 11:02PM: My parents are in town. They're going to be in the area till early April in case you'd like to meet them. Accordingly, I'll be slightly less available, but only slightly.

I met them at the International Arrivals stage at SFO. Passengers get off the plane, get checked luggage, go through customs, and then step into this cordoned-off open space surrounded by eager friends and family. (Once I stood there holding a sign reading "GODOT".) The pressure's on to create a lovely reunion moment for your friend and for the audience. This is the kind of situation that seems perfect for a marriage proposal but is probably actually an awful one.

Unlike the angels in Dogma, I don't do enough serious people-watching. Anyone want to take the BART and bus down to SFO or Oakland International some weekend to watch the farewells and reunions?

# 06 Mar 2003, 09:05AM: Return to Manzanar: As I drove my parents from the airport, my mother asked about the US political situation. I tried to convey to her the despair. I kind of hope I didn't.

Last night I dreamt that my sister and I had to register with the government because we're of Asian descent. A full waiting room sat behind us and heard the government official question us about all our documents as he processed our papers. I insisted that this was unfair and unconstitutional, that my sister and I had been born here and that our allegiance was to this country. I ended by saying, "As far as I know, I am a loyal citizen."

The agent responded to my protests for the first time, saying, "Ah, but what about what you don't know?"

I remarked that this was evidently his most compelling argument.

He handed me a paper that I immediately wanted to burn or tear. "That's your receipt," he said.

"Is this in case I want a refund?" I said, getting a laugh from the waiting room.

# 07 Mar 2003, 07:58AM: You Will Believe the Twist!: A few of you have noticed the new feature in the upper right corner of the page. I'm using Tonight's String to present you with a different gag each day on the "In Soviet Russia" premise.

Yakov Smirnoff, a Russian comedian, popularized the gag when he was big. The schema went, "In the US, you do x to y, but in Soviet Russia, y does x to you."

These days the geeks are especially fond of it in more a straight two-noun reversal of agency (e.g., "guns kill people...people kill guns"), or a Bizarro reversal of ordinary practice (e.g., "too few cooks spoil the broth"). I myself love mixing up the three nouns like so:

Sarah: [looks at a box of cinnamon-scented soap from Sri Lanka, featuring a picture of a leopard, or perhaps a jaguar] Yeah, because cinnamon always really reminds me of jaguars.
Me: In Soviet Russia, jaguars remind cinnamon of you!

Do send in suggestions. Contributions will be attributed.

Filed under: Comedy

# 08 Mar 2003, 05:32PM: J. Bradford DeLong, whom I should meet someday, presents A Brief Dialogue on Behavioral Economics (The Importance of Framing the Issue Properly), another funny "economists gettin' down" transcript in the tradition of his notes from the economics convention.

Includes the tense moment:

Hall: You shouldn't think about how much it cost while you drink it!
DeLong: Are you saying that I shouldn't have the preference function I happen to have?

As Leonard says, "Them's fightin' words!"

# 09 Mar 2003, 08:55AM: Wondrous Skeins of Connexion Guide Us to Booze: John will recall (if not from memory, then from the very end of his long and funny record of the St. Petersburg trip) the African liqueur Amarula:

Monday, 6 August - Closure Costs Extra
Morning in Frankfurt led us back to the airport, which as it turns out is obnoxiously put together (the gate names are all misleading). Stopped into the duty-free shop with an oversupply of leftover Deutschmarks, where Katie and I ended up splitting the cost of some bizarre South African liquer so as to pass the transatlantic flight in a state of blissful stupidity, rather than of boredom and depression. Stuff is actually really good.

I had not thought about that liqueur in a long time, but Lore has. Piedmont Grovery in Oakland carries Amarula and you can buy it online too, in case you're on the coast opposite Piedmont Grocery.

You'll recall that Katie told us, "You can't get this in the US." Ha!

# 10 Mar 2003, 12:17PM: Dreamweaver, Don't Bother Me: More dreams. A few nights ago I walked along a city block and looked at Danny O'Brien's family's weblog. The format: not a candy bar wrapper, but art installations, mostly the hoods, engines, and wheels of cars embedded in concrete. I thought, "Wow, Ada's only a few weeks old and already her family's blog is most of a city block! How will they get enough blogging space for the rest of her life?"

Last night: Osama bin Laden calls up Visa customer service. He's having trouble using his (stolen) Visa card, number such-and-so. The customer service technicians turn on the video and see that it's frickin' Osama bin Laden! And they try to draw him out and then he says, "I don't care about the money, I just want to track your (Americans') currency." And then the customer service center blows up.

Cut to me, sneaking from one basement to another, somewhere dangerous. For some reason I have to yank my cell phone charger out of an outlet and take it with me, and this eats valuable time. I cautiously move from the secret intelligence-gathering basement to the basement holding the stairs to my hotel. I carry a paperback to look inconspicuous, and a whistle on a cord around my neck. The hotel issues the whistle to all hotel customers, since the locale is so dangerous. I go up the stairs. A woman passes me -- I sense that she stops just behind me and turns around. Panic! She's wearing a whistle -- but what better cover for a killer? I start blowing my whistle as loud as I can. Another woman runs down the stairs. She and my enemy are sisters, and I recognize that they're celebrities! Again, what a fiendish plan to kill me! No one would suspect them!

I woke, heart racing. Where am I? I'm safe, in my hotel room. No, wait, I'm at home, in Berkeley. There is no hotel. It wasn't real.

After I went back to sleep I dreamt that Tom Brokaw died a sudden and fiery death as I watched, like Kevin Smith only I wasn't amused.

Michael tried to spin: "Wow, you get name people to star in your dreams!"

# 10 Mar 2003, 04:48PM GMT+5:30: I finally got around to visiting Sproul Hall. And now what's in my bag? My diploma! Doesn't look much different than most other computer-printed foil-stamped multi-signed certificates, but tonight I'll tack it on my wall to fend off I-never-graduated nightmares, like an ultraspecific dreamcatcher.

Not only did the registrar clerk give me the diploma, but she also gave me a "free" book (There Was Light) of UCB alumni essays. This book is paperback and seems to have no ISBN.

I walked down Telegraph. The sun shone. I'm more different from the mass here now. I have the thing they're ostensibly striving for. I'm not excited, just a little more confident, a little more fulfilled.

...Diploma in my haaaaaaand,
No, no, they can't take that away from me...

Filed under: Reading

# 10 Mar 2003, 05:17PM GMT+5:30: More neat paper things: Biella Coleman has met her and Paul Ford has pondered her. Geek writer Ellen Ullman will publish a new book, The Bug, in May. Today I received an advance copy. Looking forward to reading it and, someday, Close to the Machine.

Filed under: Reading

# 10 Mar 2003, 08:52PM: So, Zed's improv show. Sadly, noise complaints are forcing Cafe Eclectica to close down -- the cafe doesn't have the capital to soundproof -- so I don't know where or when SF Improv will perform next.

A more than adequate night, with high points that made up for the low ones. Craig Lant was, as always, a good host and superb at playing the put-upon husband/father. Zed gamely put up with an overzealous audience in the "No You Didn't" game. (The performer tells a story but is interrupted by the audience saying "No, you didn't," and has to immediately change that bit of the story.) Such audience behavior makes me think that improv would be better without the audience, or at least substituting computer-randomized suggestions for audience suggestions. (Who am I, Leonard?) I didn't much enjoy the performances of the "winning team," who won because one member teaches acting and invited her students to the show.

My happiest discovery: Daron Jennings. Quick, funny, handsome. Reminds me of Mike Parsons. Best of luck, Daron.

Filed under: Comedy

# 11 Mar 2003, 08:31AM: Geek or Weak?: My PC has been nonfunctional for months, since a few really unfortunate accidents where I hit the power strip button without shutting down. Last night I finally attempted to reinstall the operating system with a Debian CD that Michael had lent me.

For those of you who don't know (and if you are a computer geek, don't read this paragraph, as the simplifications will annoy you): I use Linux at home, not Windows or the Mac OS. There are many flavors of Linux, many independent distributions each concentrating on enhancing certain aspects of the software. Debian is the "I'm such a geek, I want all the functionality you can possibly give me, and if something doesn't work I'll fix it myself by hacking the code" distribution. The Debian organization is also well known for its commitment to software freedom.

Well, I shouldn't have done the Debian dance. I should have used one of the "You don't really know what you're doing, do you?" distributions. As of right now my computer is running a very minimal installation of Linux, but I can't figure out how to connect to the Net, so I can't download the software that I need. I was too exhausted to use Michael's computer to trawl the Net for help documentation, and he wasn't here, so I just cheered myself up with my Firesign Theater tape and went to bed. I've waited nine weeks, I can wait another few days.

Filed under: Apartment Life

# 11 Mar 2003, 02:17PM: My boss complimented me!

# 11 Mar 2003, 05:06PM: Who's coming to Cody's Books in March? Susie Bright, Pico Iyer, Bharati Mukherjee, Randall Kennedy, Alice Walker, and Marion Nestle, among others. In fact, tonight itself at 7:30 I'll introduce New York Times science writer George Johnson, who'll speak on quantum computing. (From a glance at his web site, Mr. Johnson is quite the looker.)

# 11 Mar 2003, 05:10PM: From Work: "He's so cute! 'Hi! I'm eager about science!' Like a female Camille Paglia!"
"A female Camille Paglia. That's good."

and

[Leslie eats a hamburger.]
Melissa: You should eat hamburgers every day.
Me: Wasn't that a play? No, that was "Christmas Every Day."
Leslie: Elmo did that, didn't he? He said he wanted it to be Christmas every day.
Me: That's based on a play from the fifties.
Leslie: I'm very disappointed that Elmo's not doing original work.

# 12 Mar 2003, 08:59PM: I'm writing this from my much more functional PC. Thanks, Michael. Thanks also to Leonard.

Filed under: Apartment Life

# 13 Mar 2003, 09:40PM: Sick. Cold. Very demanding nose and violent sneezing in packs of threes, not my usual pairs. Left work early, may skip tomorrow. I've already had my yearly cold, darnit!

# 13 Mar 2003, 09:48PM GMT+5:30: Books You Can't Read Yet: Finished Crescent (April) by Diana Abu-Jaber, which is very good. The blurb calls it an Arab-American Like Water For Chocolate, and though I haven't read Like Water that seems right. I laughed and cried and hoped and gasped and there were almost no hints of magical realism, so I'm happy.

Now reading Ellen Ullman's The Bug (May), which at every page reveals itself as the novel I wish I were good enough to write. Various Indian diaspora writers have already written The Great Indian-American Novel, and now it looks like Ullman has the Great American Girl Geek Novel title locked. Excellent, suspenseful, evocative, emotionally accurate. It's bad for my health, since it tempts me to read rather than sleep. I'll go to sleep now anyway.

Filed under: Reading

# 14 Mar 2003, 11:52AM: I'm a liar. Ullman's book called to me and I finished it last night. Quite good.

Still sick.

"Whatever angels call you, go!"

# 14 Mar 2003, 05:05PM GMT+5:30: How to Take a Nap: I'm sick. I needed to take a nap and I was a little tired. So I set myself up with tissues and water, and put on a soothing tape of Russian choral music, and tried to read my Routledge Great Philosophers: Berkeley.

Filed under: Reading

# 14 Mar 2003, 06:51PM: I wonder how many weblogs I like are written by ex-Mormons. I knew about Adam and Leonard, but Did You Know that Teresa Nielsen Hayden (of Making Light fame) was excommunicated from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints? I learned some details about LDS scripture that Leonard has been vague on, although I'm not sure how much of a caricature she's performing.

I came across this memoir while trying to find an account of how Patrick and Teresa met, but no luck.

# 16 Mar 2003, 09:58AM: Happy birthday to Rachel (psst: I noticed the purse first), who is but a whippersnapper compared to old fogeys such as myself and her brother.

As old as I get, as mature and understanding as I get, I still find my family getting under my skin, in good ways and bad. With everyone else in the world I can take a deep breath and say, when they do something annoying, "It's not about me, it's about them." But with my family, sometimes it really is about me!

Took some NyQuil last night (shoulda done that two days ago!), despite the bottle manufacturers' best efforts. I should find out whether Walgreens would let me swear an affidavit that my household contains no children or imbeciles so I could buy the senior-friendly containers of pills and booze-laden meds. Still a little sick. Still not King.

# 16 Mar 2003, 10:15AM: Call For Comments: How can a dictatorship exist in Iraq when most households own guns? I'm wondering, too -- send the Slate writer your theories.

# 16 Mar 2003, 10:57AM: Probably only Steve and I notice the subtle and constant change on my home page. Years ago it just said something like "I'm Sumana and you should read Crummy", but now it's a huge human-readable bookmarks file.

Last night I woke up around 1 am and knew what I had to do. I had to remove my links to Joel Spolsky and Modern Humorist.

Joel says some interesting and useful things, but he's so condescending and dismissive (even when campaigning against programmer arrogance) that he sets my teeth a-grittin'. I'll spare you my nose-blowing rants.

Kenny Byerly best captured the Modern Humorist vibe: "Did you think that was funny? What if there were a shirt? Would you buy the shirt? There's a shirt for sale, click right here, will you buy it?" A few erudite lines in every article, but the site's QuickTime/sound/ads-intensive and seldom updated. For worthwhile material, try the Editors' Picks or submit your own.

# 16 Mar 2003, 10:28PM: I've got networking, windowing, and Mozilla set up on my week-ago-nonfunctioning PC, but am I happy? No. Sound doesn't work, so I grump. Grump! Well, eventually I'll exploit Michael for unpaid tech support and then I'll listen to This American Life archives to my heart's content.

# 17 Mar 2003, 03:59PM: A pretty boring day at work.

# 17 Mar 2003, 10:26PM: Better Punditry Through Fictionalizations: Did someone already implement this and I didn't notice?

George Herbert Walker Bush gently pushes open the door to the Oval Office. George W. Bush gets up from "his" desk.
Dad: Your mother and I saw your invasion plans. [pause] What the hell do you think you're doing? I mean, where did you get this stuff?
Dubya: Dad...
Dad: Answer me!
Dubya: It was you, all right? I learned it from watching you!

I like the rough analogy: the older, more responsible user has accidentally provided a bad role model for the younger user, who in contrast has no sense of discipline or moderation.

# 18 Mar 2003, 10:42AM: During my illness I dreamt that I was proposing a fantasy story where Colin Powell and Condoleeza Rice were the same person, à la Ranma 1/2.

Adam heard and said, "That would be the best thing ever." He also suggested that Bush would be Ranma's father, who turns into a giant panda if splashed with water. Wacky press conferences!

# 18 Mar 2003, 07:17PM: Compare, Contrast, Cry: When I anticipated going to Russia, I worried that people there would discriminate against me because my skin is brown. My fears were unfounded. And now I'm worried about flying cross-country, in my own country, because I'm Indian, and I know it's reasonable!

And if Jon Carroll isn't wearing his flowing ethnic garb, I sure as heck ain't wearing mine.

My mom, to her credit, didn't give her advice until I told her I was worried. She said, "Don't volunteer anything. Answer them if they ask questions, but don't say anything extra. Just be quiet. [pause] And tell them you are a Hindu."

I only wish I could finally take advantage of my religion's history of Muslim-bashing to secure my personal safety! But, as my colleague put it, the typical security guard would respond, "Hindu? Where's that?"

Update: My mother also advises me not to let them see I'm scared. All I can hope is to seem just as nervous as everyone else.

# 19 Mar 2003, 11:38AM: Tonight!: If I didn't already have plans, I'd groove to Cal a cappella tonight.

# 21 Mar 2003, 09:23AM: Resigned Fury: Listening to Moxy Früvous, "The Gulf War Song," over and over. I feel numb.

Many people at Cody's took time off yesterday to go to various protests. I didn't. What's the point? I am not going to make one iota of difference in the policies I detest by holding a sign or chanting a slogan and preaching to the choir. And these protests are mostly not saying the thing I now want to say, which is a hopeless hope that not too many people will die.

So many arguments for the war sound dishonest, bait-and-switch affairs (via Aaron Swartz). Like so many people, I'd despair less about the war if I trusted the administration to follow through in the crucial aftermath, and if Congress had declared war.

If the whole point of this operation is to kill Saddam Hussein, then maybe we should just repeal our rules against assassination and do that, so we don't have to kill as many other people to carry out the objective. Why should we even have such rules if we're going to flagrantly disobey their spirits?

This is the perfect time to do my taxes and remind myself of what they pay for.

# 21 Mar 2003, 03:15PM: Naan and Circuses: My sister and I are planning family-friendly activities for this weekend; my parents will return to India soon. I used CAPAlert to find movies my parents wouldn't mind; I'm leaning towards Rabbit Proof Fence (which I hear is very good) and Rivers and Tides (which I know is very good).

Also intriguing: a gamelan concert and a Cole Porter revue. We'll probably end up seeing The Great Celestial Cow, because, you know, Indian.

# 22 Mar 2003, 10:20AM: Grudges I Can't Help Keeping: Years ago, during an ugly argument, Dan and I violently disagreed over the desirability of innocence. He claimed that innocence is nothing more than ignorance, and thus undesirable. I can't know what he thinks now, but someone has finally articulated my side of that fight.

# 22 Mar 2003, 10:49AM: Leonard and I must be at least a quarter of the way to the deep and complex relationship Jon Carroll and his wife have; the "I thought you didn't like X" conversation comes up about twice a month.

# 23 Mar 2003, 10:15PM: In Which I Pretend to Be an Actress: Hal, Miguel and I filmed our parts in Hal's film, tentatively titled Don Juan, late Saturday night. Hal (who actually said "Camera rolling...action!" several times) used a digital camera, but only during one extreme close-up did I think I resembled Heather from Blair Witch. And, thanks to technology, we could watch our footage that same night, radically reducing time-to-wince.

I had not anticipated that Hal's behavior would be so easy to understand. He wants to make real his vision of the finished product, and so fusses over details and impersonally uses his tools (the actors). He's like a programmer that way.

We had to try again and again and again to get things right. Another take, because of street noise. Another take; you paused too long. Another take; your voice went too high. Actors really do work hard, running the industry-specific risk of repetitive emotion injury.

At one point, Hal directed Miguel and me to sit very close to each other, with our faces almost touching. Once our noses were less than a foot apart, I started laughing, and it took a minute for me to stop. I wondered why I was laughing. I only realized later that I had laughed to dispel the tension of breaking my intimacy/personal space taboos.

It looks like we'll do some voiceover work in April and perhaps premiere the film in early May. While I'm enjoying the process and learning a lot, last night I dreamt of pursuing a tortured infatuation with Roger Ebert. So maybe the sooner it's over, the better. For us all.

# 24 Mar 2003, 12:07PM: "How do you tell someone you want to stop sleeping with them but you want to stay friends?" pondered an acquaintance. Someone desired me to provide a comedic solution. "Knock knock! Who's there? Don't want! Don't want who? You, that's who!"

In slightly related news, BYU = bring your unmarrieds.

Filed under: Comedy

# 24 Mar 2003, 04:14PM: It is so hard to remember that my family is not the only family with small problems. Sometimes I want to believe that I am unique, and sometimes I want to remember that everyone else is on the same ride as me.

# 24 Mar 2003, 09:04PM: I hope that Salam Pax and Nate Thayer are okay.

# 24 Mar 2003, 09:26PM: Revisited: About twenty months ago I visited DC. When I visit again this week, I might go to the Supreme Court again, and I hope to catch the kite festival for the first time. But I don't know if I can bear to go to Arlington this time round. Last time, in June 2001, I wrote:

So in the morning I saw Arlington National Cemetery. And I was overwhelmed. In the movie Fail-Safe, the President says, "What do we say to the dead?" And the Russian premier says that we must tell them that it will never happen again.
There are more than 260,000 people buried at Arlington (they say). There are so many graves. Everywhere. A mute tribute. And they are in all directions. I could not but turn my back on someone.
We cannot consecrate every piece of ground where someone has fallen, but what is the proper way to pay respect to the dead?
There are signs that explain that this is hallowed ground, that people should conduct themselves with dignity and solemnity. Joel says that such signs tell us what has happened in the past. And he's right. Maybe American tourists are worse than others. But I felt as though people should be more solemn than they were. I felt uncomfortable, even disapproving, when people laughed or gossiped or fussed over camera angles. But who am I to judge? The only people who have a right to mind, maybe, can't say anything, can't tell us how to respect them.
Does this cemetery glorify war? Could a patriot and a pacifist, to borrow Moxy Früvous's terms, equally use Arlington to say, "we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain" and "never again"?
These graves were all Americans. What about the other sides? France and Iraq, Spain and Nicaragua, England and Vietnam?

Man:(explains that the Guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier is "very focused," "ceremonial," and that he can't stray for a moment from his task and his precision.)
Boy:"So, what is it, exactly, for?"

# 25 Mar 2003, 01:23AM: Mr. Blogger-American Goes to Mr. Airport: Tuesday I will wear an "I am not a terrorist" outfit to the airport.

A purple tee shirt, slightly formfitting. Fundamentalist Muslim women would never dream of being so immodest! Also, they hate purple.
A grey cardigan sweater. Not black. Not at all burqua-like.
Khaki pants. When was the last time you saw a terrorist in Dockers?
Also, I will have a US accent and passport, and be kissing a white guy.

(slight credit to Michael for the "they hate purple" bit)

# 25 Mar 2003, 01:32AM: Gems From Work: Boss: "Well, you could buy it for him."
Underling: "With what? My soul?"

Filed under: Comedy

# 25 Mar 2003, 11:19AM: It's a good thing I remembered to take that boxcutter out of my backpack.

# 25 Mar 2003, 03:51PM: I never see these jobs on Craigslist. They sound fun (size).

# 26 Mar 2003, 09:02AM: I'm in DC. Currently I'm renting PC time at George Washington University. Soon: touring and seeing friends new and old.

The weekly tour of National Public Radio conflicts with Leonard's talk. I'm torn.

# 28 Mar 2003, 08:38AM: Some touring has occurred. I got to see John and meet his friends Greg, Jess, and Leda, and they are clever and fun. I saw the lovely woods and creek behind John's house, and ate at a vegetarian-friendly Burmese restaurant (Mandalay) in College Park, MD. And Leonard and John and I walked the Mall at night.

I stood on the steps of the Capitol and stared at the Washington Monument. A red beacon blinked from its peak. It resembled some cheap Sauron toy. And it made me so sad so see yet another thing I can't believe in. Like Sarah Vowell, I make these pilgrimages to this sacred sites, cemeteries and capitals. And not only don't I trust the current administration, I fear it's queering the pitch for decades to come. I find myself thinking that these trappings of pomp no longer hold anything I value. In the light of morning I know that's not true, but under the klieg lights the melancholy overtook me. I looked up to the stars, symbols of terrible, impersonal inevitability, mocking our aspirations and our temporary accomplishments. The Washington Monument seemed yet another Ozymandias.