I'm My Own Big Brother . . .?

Stephen Baker writes, in his new book, The Numerati, published by Houghton Mifflin and excerpted on KNPR.org,

"Those of us wielding cell phones, laptops, and credit cards fatten our digital
dossiers every day, simply by living. Take me. As I write on this spring
morning, Verizon, my cell phone company, can pin me down within several yards of
this café in New Jersey. Visa can testify that I'm well caffeinated, probably to
overcome the effects of the Portuguese wine I bought last night at 8:19. This
was just in time for watching a college basketball game, which, as TiVo might
know, I turned off after the first half. Security cameras capture time-stamped
images of me near every bank and convenience store. And don't get me started on
my Web wanderings. Those are already a matter of record for dozens of Internet
publishers and advertisers around the world."

Wow! I've often thought that in our headlong rush to embrace ever-expanding new technologies, we are doing something like this. Not being one of the "numerati," in fact, being barely numerate, my thinking didn't get much further than this.

But where it did get me was to a(n admittedly) fuzzy mental comparison between "us," with our heedless embrace of technology, and the fictional Will and Lyra, hero and heroine of the amazing His Dark Materials trilogy; Will and Lyra and their willing embrace of the miraculous and Subtle Knife, which, (spoiler alert), they learn, just before it's too late, "has intentions of its own." Which our hero and heroine did not intend.

With or without having read this sure-to-be-intriguing book by Mr. Baker, has anyone out there ever had similar thoughts about the way everything in our modern world, from cell phones to iPods to smart toilet seats, might have "intentions we do not intend?"

Why I am not an advice columnist.

I was reading Ask Amy, one of my favorite advice columns, today, and my personal response to the letter below tells you exactly why I have had to abandon my once cherished dream of becoming a syndicated advice columnist. The column reproduced here is a genuine question from the Ask Amy feature of the Chicago Tribune. My (would-be) answer is below it. See for yourself why as an advice columnist I'd be a bust.

Q:

My live-in girlfriend of two years dumped me a couple of weeks ago, saying that she had never loved me.

Since the breakup I haven't been doing well. We had two cats, one that I had adopted and one that we adopted together. I finally found an apartment. I had been under the impression that I would be taking both cats.

The two cats are very close, and I've always been the primary caretaker for them. I have been the one who cleaned the litter box and took them to the vet.

When I went to the apartment to pack, my ex told me that she wouldn't let me take both cats.

She told me that if I took our cat she would feel bitter toward me and that we would never be able to have a relationship of any sort.

I was furious and upset. I cried and screamed, and my anger really scared me.

To be honest, I am still in love with her, and I don't want to do anything that I know will cause me to lose her forever.

But I'm also horrified at giving up my cat, and horrified to think of my other cat crying all day and all night and refusing to eat, the way he did the only other time I separated them and took him to a new place.

Now I'm incredibly sad and lonely.

It seems like a lot to lose. Should I give up? And how can I deal with my anger, frustration, and sense of loss. What can I do?

A: Are you a woman?

How Naive Was I?

I'm B-a-a-a-a-c-k!

God, it feels good to feel better! Not 100% yet, but SO much better than yesterday.

Yesterday felt exactly like detoxing except for one big improvement; I wasn't rolling around on the bathroom floor groaning, "God, if you get me out of this one, I'll never do it again!" THAT is a big improvement. Yesterday, I was just randomly sick; I didn't 'do it to myself.'

I ventured out of my "den of ill health" to get a coffee this morning, and as is my wont of a Sunday, drove myself and it over to a pleasant neighborhood park where I planned to drink it, call my sister, and see if I could manage a smoke. On the way, I was thinking of a conversation I had with my friend Kathy yesterday.

"So many people admit they won't vote for Obama just because he's Black," she said with a sigh.
"Really?" I answered. I was genuinely surprised. (Perhaps illness had made me naive?)
"Oh, yes. They admit they'll never vote for a Black man."

I was stunned. Then disheartened. One thing I've noticed about illness and me is that it opens up all kinds of emotional channels. Everything is bigger; love, fear, sadness, anger. Only the emotions that take a lot of energy, like anger, don't seem to get a lot of play. So I wasn't terribly angered by Kathy's assertion, which, on reflection, I know must be true. But my sadness was overwhelming.

And sitting in the "coffee park" this morning, watching the sun come up, I was flooded with joy, thinking that yes, this is one of the reasons I WANT to vote for Obama. I want to push away with both hands the people and the sickness that will not vote for a Black man.

That's quite different for voting for someone just because he is Black. Having made the decision to vote for Obama long ago (ask my neighbors how long the Obama sign has been in my front window), I am glad to have discovered another reason why it feels so right.

Sorry, Possums!

I haven't been posting for a couple of days, and today I'm as sick as a parrot. Caught the stomach bug that's been felling infants an adults alike at work. Bummer! I was babysitting the grandkids last night, and when they finally fell asleep, the creeping nausea that had been growing all day finally hit! Can you say, "tsunami?"

I didn't sleep well, and I'm still a little weak and shaky. So I've cancelled all appointments and activities for today, and I'm going to veg out and watch dvds while I try to sleep.

I did post a little sum'in sum'in on Open Salon, if you care to peruse.

Sorry to hear the world is without the gorgeous and humanitarian Paul Newman this morning.

But I hear Obama gave as good as he got, without the Kerry condescencion or the Al Gore Eye Rolls.

Bring it!

love,

Helen O

But wait, there's more!

Just in case The Love Laundry is not fulfilling all your Helenblogger needs, I've now opened an account on Open Salon. It provides writing prompts for me along with almost instantaneous feedback. And as you know, I am the girl for whom more is not enough and instant gratification takes too long, it should be right up my alley. You can visit it here: http://open.salon.com/user_blog.php?uid=5594


Some people see the glass as half-full.
Some people see the glass as half-empty.
Which kind are you?

Me, I'm the kind that sees that the glass is too damn small!

Love ya,

Helen

This Just In . . . from our Welsh Correspondent at Villa Monterey

Bottle shock

Sales of a wine named Palin plummet in San Francisco
Oliver Burkeman
Tuesday September 23 2008
guardian.co.uk

"As we've recently learned, real Americans, in the American heartland of America, eat moose and go snowmobiling. But in liberal San Francisco, out-of-touch left-wingers prefer to sip wine while discussing their love of terrorists and homosexuality. Or at least they did until they realised what they were drinking: at Yield Wine Bar in downtown San Francisco, sales of a once-popular organic red from Chile have plummeted in the last few weeks, because its name is Palin Syrah. "It was our bestselling wine before [the VP announcement]," owner Chris Tavelli laments. ("One Yield regular suggested that Tavelli amend the wine's tasting note to read 'moosemeat, salmon, hint of gunpowder'," reports the website Serious Eats.)"

"Pundits have long held that the distinction between "wine-track Democrats" and "beer-track Democrats" is a fundamental cultural cleavage in the US, and frankly, shunning Palin Syrah in appalled horror is typical elitist wine-track behaviour: do you think beer-track voters would shun Miller Lite just because someone called Miller was running for the Republicans? Of course not: they'd get on and drink it. Anyway, when McCain wins in November it will be necessary to consume very large amounts of alcohol constantly for four years, whatever the brand name, so you might as well start practicing now. [Serious Eats]" Copyright Guardian Newspapers Limited 2008

IN OTHER NEWS . . .

A reader from LeRoy, NY, writes to ask why Jenna Jameson's pregnancy with twins is newsworthy.

Well, it represents a scientific breakthrough. Until this moment, it was thought that sperm had to be deposited deep inside a woman's mysterious "lady parts" in order for fertilization to take place. Now we know this miracle of conception can happen just by having numerous anonymous partners simply do it on your face!