Hm

While building my most recent Magic deck, I realized something.

I have run out of basic forests. I didn't think that was possible. And I'm not sure this is a good sign.

On Fatalism

Was called a fatalist last night by Jim, in our discussion about newspapers. This was after I'd called him one.

The perspectives divided thusly: He thinks that newspapers are on their way out, and that when they go, we lose something critical to our democracy because there's nothing to replace them. The internet (with bloggers being the definition there) and TV do not have the credibility nor the standards of accuracy that newspapers do. And once they go, they're gone and that resource cannot be replaced. Our democracy will be fucked once that happens.

So: we should save them.

Me: newspapers are going to die, at least as we know them. That cannot be prevented but the idea that nothing will replace those things is one that historically as been false. New things rise up to replace old things in every system you can talk about, and there's no way to prove that in this case, the new thing is going to be worse or somehow be unable to give us the truth we need to continue to function as a democracy.

I know the world is going to change, and not always for the better, but not always for the worse, either.

I had a troubled sleep last night, though.

Get a haircut and get a real job

I got my haircut yesterday. Probably the best $5 haircut I've gotten since the early 80's, but I think I would've ponied up 5 more to not have to listen to shitty, shitty pop music for forty minutes. There was one song with a really catchy riff, wasted in a song that was otherwise drivel. The Foo Fighters could've done something awesome with that riff. But this band wasn't even close.

Although the haircut looks ok, I spent today mostly depressed. Yeah, I made beer and I wrote some and it didn't all suck, but what I realized walking back from the comic store was this; I am admitting that I cannot get a job. I'm cleaning myself up, which will include shaving off the soul patch I've kept on my chin for at least six months, so I can go into a temp agency and ask for work.

I don't have a dream to follow, I don't have a path to look to. Going to the temp agency isn't so bad; hopefully they'll be able to place me. It's that I don't really know anything that makes me valuable, and I don't really love anything that people would want to pay me for. And that's...no fun.

More things not to do:

Lock yourself out of the house.

The cats will not let you back inside.

Step 1

Well, I finished the first, handwritten draft of a book I've been writing for 3 years. It's not the most triumphant thing ever, but it is an accomplishment in the process of making a complete thing. So I'll take it.