1:29 p.m. - 2006-09-08
Burritos and demagoguery
Burrito Night, 9-4-06: Actually Burrito DAY, since our original lunch plan was thwarted and we said, Hey, just for something new and crazy what if we had burritos for lunch instead of waiting for night, who's gonna stop us anyway, let em' try! And so it was with rebellious, madcap glee that we tore into our afternoon burritos at La Hacienda. They were pretty adequate. Kia got hers alacarte, but I got the plate with the beans and rice, which turned out to be kind of a mistake because the beans were swarming all over the plate, soaking half the burrito in that strange, murky refried bean run-off that infects too many Mexican restaurant meals. Also the rice kind of sucked, being all re-heated and dry and all. As for the burrito itself: serviceable. Adequate. Filling. La Hacienda has good other dishes, like fajitas and spicy steak things and stuff like tongue for those who aren't easily terrified by food, but I don't think I'd go there for burritos again. See what happens when you flout tradition?
Meanwhile, work on my one man show, "Me, Me, Look at ME!--A One Man Show" has been progressing...not at all. I feel the need lately to throw myself into a new creative endeavor, as an antidote to feeling burnt out by the summer and doing drum gigs that, while remunerative and maybe even occasionally fun, don't allow for the most unfettered expression of all my ideas. On the other hand, where are all the ideas? WHERE ARE THE IDEAS ALREADY? I bought a thick spiral notebook in which to collect my one man show ideas, but so far none are forthcoming. Maybe it'll be easier when summer finally ends, which its starting to, but it still gets a little thick and warm for my taste and all the pollen and stuff is activating my allergies, causing me much lethargy. But when it gets cool out, when the leaves all die in a morbid explosion of color and the sky turns a forbidding grey and the night frost drives all the various fauna into their squalid underground dwellings, where they fight over the paltriest morsels of food and squabble over who gets to sleep next to the really fat bunny where it's warmest: this is when I will begin to tell my story.
Oh, and don't forget: 9-11!!!!!!!!!!!! 9-11, 9-11, 9-11, 9-11, 9-11, 9-11!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Fifth year anniversary of when AMERICA LOST ITS INNOCENCE AND EVERYTHING CHANGED FOREVER!!!!!!!!!!!!
What, you've forgotten? WELL, HERE'S A MANIPULATIVE MOVIE ON THE SUBJECT!!! AND ANOTHER! AND ANOTHER, 9-11 9-11 9-11 9-11!!! FIVE YEAR 9-11 ANNIVERSARY!!!!!!! And, wait, here's yet another crap-ass manipulative piece of schlock on TV!!! And some books!!! Books with BIG pictures, because who has time to read IN THIS POST 9-11 WORLD???!!!!!
Wait, did you forget again?
Well, 9-11 9-11 9-11 9-11 9-11 9-11 9-11 9-11 9-11 9-11 9-11 9-11 9-11 9-11 9-11 9-11 9-11 !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I had lunch with Nate yesterday and this topic somehow came up. I said to Nate, Try and imagine that you're part of a group of powerful people with certain belligerent ends, which ends may be difficult to bring forth, owing to opposition both from the public and within the government. And then something really bad happens, a lot of people die, and all of a sudden you enjoy unprecedented support at home and an outpouring of sympathy abroad. Then, instead of seizing on all the support and sympathy to change the world for the better, instead of moving forward, putting the tragedy behind us, and working to insure that it never happens again, you view the tragedy as carte blanche to carry out the violent schemes that you and your ilk have been hatching for years. Just try and imagine you're one of these people, imagine living in their moral universe. After the tragedy you've amassed unprecedented power, your war-like cronies are running roughshod over the world stage and your friends and family are getting richer and richer while your actions or lack thereof ruin countless lives here and abroad. The big tragic event, thousands murdered, countless millions traumatized, was the best thing that ever happened to you. You would like nothing more than for a new 9-11 ever week to keep everyone really scared, but since that's not feasible you just keep saying the numbers 9-11, ad nauseum, to keep reminding everyone of that bad, bad day, to remind everyone of the panic and fear that swept the nation. You feed off of this panic and fear. 9-11 was the best thing that ever happened to you, and you never want it to end. Can you fully imagine being such a person?
No? Me neither. Maybe the world has half a chance after all.
