Happy weekend, all.

Nick Drake
Pink Moon
“Pink Moon”

I saw it written and I saw it say
Pink moon is on its way
And none of you stand so tall
Pink moon gonna get you all
It’s a pink moon
It’s a pink, pink, pink, pink, pink moon

Via digby: So libertarian (I won’t dignify that crapfest with a cap L) Nick Gillepsie knows exactly why Social Security is “immoral”, in his words:

Those who wish to devote their wealth to saving the irresponsible from the consequences of their own actions should be free to do so through private charity, but to loot the savings of untold millions of innocent, responsible, hard-working young people in the name of such a goal is a monstrous injustice.

Assuming, idiotically, of course, that everyone acts either completely rationally, or completely irrationally, and that there are never accidents, illnesses, natural disasters, crimes, fraud, national emergencies, or any of the other myriad ways life has of fucking us over. Also, idiotically, assuming that everyone somehow starts from the same spot, on a level playing field, with a social structure composed of rational deciders. In other words, Gillepsie is 100% right about a fucking made-up computer program, and in all other ways a blithering cocksucking idiot. And I mean cocksucking in the bad way, not the awesome way.

So Nick, if you ever read this, fuck you and your idiocy.

I once got in an argument with a girl who insisted that you can pronounce it “Wed-nes-dee” and be correct. I wasn’t full on gladiating with her, but I was skeptical. So I went and looked it up and she was right. In English that’s fine. So happy Wednesday. This is the last Wednesday the 16th 2011 you will ever experience in your life, barring a sudden change in our calendaring system.

I watched a documentary called Gasland and it made me less heart-hurt for the probable loss of our country escape/redneck-a-palooza out in Colorado. It’s probably riddled with cancerous shit from hydraulic fracturing for gas in the area. There’s at least a half-dozen wells on the property. The movie did, unfortunately, make me cry like a tiny tittybaby at least five different times. We’re losing our nation to corporations and our land is being poisoned by the endless pursuit of profit. A few will live richly and you and I will starve and die diseased and helpless. Unless we change things somehow, of course.

I spent weeks investigating the USB cable on my drawing tablet only to realize it’s a standard USB-Mini-B cable. I feel like a dolt. So I drew a picture of myself being stupid with it.

I stumbled across this while searching for a stock photo of a clenched fist.

There were a lot of terrible pictures in that search. Living with safe search off is a dangerous thing. Glorious, but dangerous. You can’t unsee it.

But I’m messing with the site, so if anything weird happens, like someone reading it, I apologize. For the reading. If it doesn’t work, well, you’re probably better off.

In unrelated news, the dentist trip was easy and smooth like punting a puppy. I am actually looking forward to the followup I have coming in a couple weeks to finish everything off. Although there’s still a suture in there that needs to be trimmed off or something because it’s all over the place. I have a weird plastic cap on the back two teeth while they’re builing my crowns. I’m going to have cyborg mouth soon. I wonder if they’d put a USB tooth in there for me to store data. That would be cool.

Now I am drugged. This is how I look.

Maybe.

That’s what it feels like anyway. I have extreme anxiety about this thing, which makes me feel really dopey. It’s a dentist, not a guillotine. Right?

How many people die from dentistry anyway? I can’t find a satisfactory answer via cursory and disinterested google search. Doc Holliday practiced dentistry. Clinton is accused to have ordered someone killed in a dentist chair by the lunatics in the world. Moe Green was in a barber’s chair, but still, it’s kind of close.

There is no reason for me to be flipping out. I will chill. Nothing is happening tomorrow anyway. I am going to jump rope and practice mime. I am not doing anything mouth-related at all.

Oh boy.

To me life tends to vary between a glorious upward soaring ecstasy and the sensation of a large emotionless creature slamming my head under murky, chemical-filled water over and over again, holding it down a little longer with each repetition.

This has been an interesting week so far, of validation and overestimation and further procrastination. I hope to be out in the woods within a few weeks, enjoying my redneckery without reservation. Literally.

I think you should make a shirt that says “My Freak” on the front, so you can tell people you have to get your freak on, then go to your bedroom, then come back wearing it, and everyone will hate you to death.