Monday, October 21, 2013

Ten days to Halloween. Or is it "Hallowe'en"? Whatever it is, it allows certain novelty shops to exist in buildings that used to contain renowned chain stores. There's a meme floating around that shows one in place of what used to be a major Tower Records installment. Whether that's true or not, I don't know, but in my town, the former Circuit City building and the former Blockbuster Video building are now both Halloween "Spook-taculars" or some such play on words. Novelty shops make a pleasant disguise for the scary reality that is our gop-led country and economy, don't they?

"Spook-tacular". I'm awfully sick of these Halloween-themed puns. It's the same ones every year. Halloween's no fun anymore. Everything's been sanitized. Can 27-year-olds like me trick-or-treat? Probably not. Cops would be on me like Anthony Weiner on a mobile device. Or something. I used to be better at hip celebrity/politician jokes. But it's a shame; I think an adult desperately seeking free candy in a bad economy is wonderfully spooky and in spirit. Also a shame that I have no costume party to go to this year; I'd rent a suit and go as a gop. Just as well, though; I ain't got the dough to rent that suit.

Here, have a photo from last year's party instead. The "pharaoh" is a long-time friend and classmate's brother. I didn't really have any ideas, so I just took my old black cape that I've had since I was small enough to trip over it, stuck it over my best tie-dye Dead shirt, and called myself "Super Outsider".



Back to the future, which is murder. ("Live in London" version there; tremendous release, LiL.) How 'bout that government shutdown? I don't have much to say about it myself; it's all fast become a blur to me. Sequester, debt ceiling, shutdown, stalemate, congress — all these words are just noise now — like a parade of garbage trucks on the other side of the front door except nonessential. (Get it?) Things are bad; I know it. I don't have hopes the least bit high for myself when I go to test for a temporary, non-social job on Tuesday, let alone anybody else for longer periods.

Ah, but haven't I whined on here enough about my distaste for this anti-social, roboticized, outsourced western society?

Something I've noticed lately is this:

Almost everybody I encounter, be it in person or via media images, their faces look almost exactly the same. Same features, same demeanor, same style of movements — male or female, black or white, senior citizen or six-month-old. I don't know how well I can describe this face, or expression; it kind of seems like the wearer is in a deep haze of thought — one from which it's highly dubious that they will ever emerge. Often their mouth is hung slightly open; their head smoothly and very slowly bobs. I have no idea what this means, if anything; it's only the last couple weeks that I've really noticed it. Just a passing thought, perhaps, that I'm passing along to cyberspace with the fantasy that a fellow traveler will know exactly what I mean and excitedly say so.

These are the thoughts that flit through one part of my head as another feels nasty sinus pressure that helps prevent me sleeping.

I bid you as pleasant a Monday as you can experience in your current circumstance.