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Sunday, Nov. 23, 2003 / 7:52 p.m. ~A Cross Post, and Life From My Sofa, a Life Without Lust~ This is what I wrote in my LiveJournal blog earlier today: "I fell asleep watching "Spartacus" last night. Oh, I got through the 'oysters vs snails double entendre Tony Curtis washing Laurence Olivier's back' scene, but some of the political stuff just bored me to tears. Funny thing was, it must have been "Spartacus"-like movie night because I kept waking up to more people dressed in togas, and it looked like Peter Ustinov again, and they were talking about Rome and Pompeii, and then it was black and white and they were still talking about Pompeii and Rome. I think it was "Quo Vadis" and "Take Me Back to My Ole Pompeii" or something. Finally I woke up and stayed up, part of my new "Jesus, I'm getting to be an old fart who naps on the sofa with blankie and kitties" routine, watched "The Enforcer", which was just funny because the 70s were funny, and they're even funnier now in retrospect. Afros are funny, and people in movies calling people, "That black guy" are funny. It was SO very un-PC, it was almost refreshing in its political incorrectness. But then again, please. It was very white vs black, er, Honky vs Black. And it was nice to see Tyne Daly before she ballooned. And then there was a documentary on a little town in Australia, "Cunnamulla" I think it was called, the film and the town, on Sundance, so I watched that. It featured all the weirdos and white trash in town, you know, the bad boy 'of color' (Aboriginal) who breaks and enters because he's bored and there's no 'culture', the teen whores who have sex because, well, that wasn't clear, probably because they're bored, and the 'dog catcher' who is shown murdering a dog, and I'm not sure why. I almost changed the channel, and as it was I had to close my eyes. The dog was crying out as he yanked it on a leash, pulled it behind his vehicle out of camera range, then he arranged it at the correct shooting distance and killed with a rifle. There was also a chicken slaughter scene, but I eat chicken, so I couldn't fault the guy too much, only he seemed to have missed with his chop and it took the chicken a lot of flapping and squawking before the scene finally cut and we had to assume the thing was dead. Good god. Then, I fell back to sleep and awoke around 11:30 to the sound of a man outside shouting, couldn't make it out until he ended with "SOMEBODY CALL 911!!!". I was considering calling for him, but I wanted to know why I would be, and I looked out to see police cars arriving - yeah, tells you about this 'hood, they're already close by - the guy was shaking, pacing back and forth, all hopped up on adrenalin, and finally I overheard him say, "I'm the relief manager at the Waffle House down the street, and these guys walked out on a $36 tab..." Oh, so THAT's all it was? Sheesh, big deal to YOU, mister, but leave us out of it. Apparently he chased the group of guys on foot, through woods, etc., (and who was minding the restaurant?), and he said they all got away, but this one guy, the slow one. Hah! Now there's a good reason to stay in shape. He had the guy with his hands behind his back, and told the cops what the others looked like and they took off, then more cops arrived, and he paced and paced, and then they all left. Then I sat on the sofa with my knees to my chest and grimaced and cried from the most painful cramps I've ever felt in my entire life. I thought I was dying. I think I'm still alive. On load 4 of laundry weekend. A Miles Davis biography is playing on Bravo network and I'm about to watch more "Guiding Light"s on tape." Since then? Thank god those horrible cramps subsided, and thank god I finished all my laundry (almost every item of clothing in my possession is CLEAN now - key word 'almost'), and thank god that I don't actually believe in god, but enjoy freely using phrases that employ the word 'god' as if I did believe. God is just a word. What else? I want to sit and rest for days. I'm trying to think of what I really want, as in from life, or to give to life, or to take from life, or from the universe, and I have no idea. I'm terribly afraid of my own mortality, and ageing, and ageing alone, of being alone forever, yet I want to be on my own forever. I want N and G never to die. I want us three to live forever, just as we are now, only better. I want us to improve, to exercise, to have time, to utilize time efficiently. And if I have to work, at a job, I want it to be doing something really helpful, useful, beneficial to those who need help. Animals, the downtrodden, the elderly, orphans maybe. I wish I could make a good living working for World Wildlife Fund, or Amnesty International, or AARP or ACLU, or something with initials. I want to work for an acronym. I filled out a survey for Entertainment Weekly online, a survey about 'luxury' items, and what I want, what I lust after, and I answered without thinking that I lust for nothing, that if I had more I'd want to give it away, that I am frugal and live within my means... except for my penchant for purchasing gourmet food items and high end cat food. High end cat food. That sounds funny. Later, and it's always hindsight, isn't it?, I thought: Duh! A computer, if money were no object and I could buy the best, the newest, the finest, of course, I would want a really nice computer and a really nice monitor, and a really nice keyboard, mouse, speakers, and a really nice desk at which to sit and use it all. Of course! Forgot. But all in all, everything I have is old and used and filled with holes or frayed edges. I don't take the best care, I only add oil to my car's engine when the oil light comes on, though I know it's low always. I only dust once in a blue moon, or once a year more likely, which is which? But things last, if you pay attention, if you don't lust after the next, the biggest, the best, the newest, the shiniest, we have too many choices, it's all too much, and as I read in a blog today, since Reagan was in office Capitalism has gotten out of hand. We don't NEED all this. Relax, keep what you have. That rule about getting rid of it if you haven't worn it in a year? Rubbish. Keep it. You'll dig it out next year, or three years from now, and say, "Hey! I used to love this! I think I'll wear it today." Stop throwing everything away, stop wanting the next best thing. It's all THINGS, it's all STUFF, and you don't need it. And with that said, don't buy food on sale, buy the best food, at any price, you're going to eat it, stupid. Just thinking of my coworker Veronica, and how she is always buying cheap crap for her family to eat, the kind of ground beef that comes in the tube, the plastic covering you can't even see through. Did I have a point, at all? I'm going back to the sofa now. My new address is MySofa.com or 1 My Sofa, Main Street, USA. Cost of the War in Iraq
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