Friday, July 22, 2005
Beam me up, Scotty
So dozer is sort-of okay, and I'm glad. Sorry I over-reacted. Gotta learn to be less cynical and paranoid.
Anyway this just hit the news.
I remember Star Trek from my childhood... and my years in London (back when I had a TV that is). Scotty was immortal, in my mind.
Live long, and prosper. Die well.
*****
It strikes me how trivial most blogs are, and how the most trivial of them spawn the most rabid fans; it's the blogs that deal with the dumbest topics (sex! sex! sex!!) that earn the most loyal followers.
Yet there's so much happening out there in the real world, so much beyond our fish tank... that we don't see, and don't want to see.
I was probably one of the first to hear about the explosions last night. The text message came as a shock - I'm okay, don't worry about me - and for a fleeting moment I thought perhaps the text had been delayed a week. But as she wrote me more messages, it began to sink in - it's happened, again.
On our many radio stations, teenagers were clogging up dedication lines, radio DJs were being "sexy and sassy" (or wannabes anywhow), and "blind dates" were trying to be coollll and composed...
I tuned in to BBC, and there it was, breaking news - london subject to more terror attacks.
It's strange, when I hear about London, or watch news clips about the bombings, the repair work, and the mourning.
It still feels so close to home to me. I still remember all the street names, the smells, the shock of chill air on my skin. The slate gray of the skies...
London was a real city, somehow. Grimy, broken, battered... but real.
Here I feel like I'm living in some kind of cartoon, some comic book cutout of utopia...
I don't feel real.
*****
At least I can distract myself from my vague sense of unease by dating hot nurses.
heh heh.
Anyway this just hit the news.
I remember Star Trek from my childhood... and my years in London (back when I had a TV that is). Scotty was immortal, in my mind.
Live long, and prosper. Die well.
*****
It strikes me how trivial most blogs are, and how the most trivial of them spawn the most rabid fans; it's the blogs that deal with the dumbest topics (sex! sex! sex!!) that earn the most loyal followers.
Yet there's so much happening out there in the real world, so much beyond our fish tank... that we don't see, and don't want to see.
I was probably one of the first to hear about the explosions last night. The text message came as a shock - I'm okay, don't worry about me - and for a fleeting moment I thought perhaps the text had been delayed a week. But as she wrote me more messages, it began to sink in - it's happened, again.
On our many radio stations, teenagers were clogging up dedication lines, radio DJs were being "sexy and sassy" (or wannabes anywhow), and "blind dates" were trying to be coollll and composed...
I tuned in to BBC, and there it was, breaking news - london subject to more terror attacks.
It's strange, when I hear about London, or watch news clips about the bombings, the repair work, and the mourning.
It still feels so close to home to me. I still remember all the street names, the smells, the shock of chill air on my skin. The slate gray of the skies...
London was a real city, somehow. Grimy, broken, battered... but real.
Here I feel like I'm living in some kind of cartoon, some comic book cutout of utopia...
I don't feel real.
*****
At least I can distract myself from my vague sense of unease by dating hot nurses.
heh heh.
