HOWLING IN COMPLICTY: SOME DRUNKARDS TALES

Loud drunks across the street again, even though it is not so pleasant outside. I am predicting a dog's mouth summer, with many sticky days. We've lived through them before. I find it early in the year for mugginess. The neither-here-nor-there-weather is making it difficult to get dressed again. Just bring a shawl. More practical than almost anything else. I dislike being overheated and carrying a bunch of things. Cranky. Shirty.

I would that moods were more readily described like geologic layers or perhaps making a lasagna. There's the base mood and then various nuances of other things making a hefty whole. My base level is deep, somewhat sad, and processing some slow information. As computers can do. I am emotionally "rendering" on the bottom layer, in the background. When I stop or I am by myself (which was not all the time today), the other layers or processes stop and I just feel slow and emotional and not entirely focussed.

What were the metaphors for this before computers?

I am a techno-slut at the moment: my laptop in bed (no-no that that is), iPhone charging next to the bed, and an old iPod playing through an alarm clock dock.

I had to take some bendadryl for my allergies, so sleep is rising up.

However, I did want to note an article in the NY Times titled

Culture of Complicity Tied to Stricken Nuclear Plant

and point out that the culture of complicty is tied to all sorts of bad shit in this world. Hel-lo. Nothing new there. 

Susan, I am sorry I forgot to wish you happy birthday yesterday.

Anon, mes amies.