three items: the first for­got­ten to post, the sec­ond for­got­ten to post, the third needed to post.

i) i for­got to post about the national trans­gen­der day of remem­brance on tues­day. sorry. here is more info.

ii) most of you know of my love for hockey, specif­i­cally the detroit red wings. two years ago yes­ter­day, ris­ing young star jiri fis­cher almost died on the ice from a heart attack. here is how jiri is doing today.

iii) i had a dream last night, obvi­ously inspired by cur­rent life con­di­tions, but tons of fun.

i was at a tech­ni­cal col­lege some years in the future (say 30) but i am the age i am now (say 30). i was a trans­fer to school, because i didn’t know any­body or any of the local places or any of the local doings. i worked on cam­pus, in some type of underwater-exploration-technology lab. i worked with a girl who was about my age and 8 months’ preg­nant or so. turns out this girl was the leader of some guerrilla/revolutionary group whose ethos was, for lack of a bet­ter word, techno-gaian. her lead­er­ship of this group was kind of an open secret, but nobody could seem to prove it and take her to the proper author­i­ties. before i knew what she was involved with, i had become smit­ten with her, and, if i may say so, she appeared to feel the same about me. in fact, as it became clear that the day was approach­ing for her to “meet her des­tiny”, she stated that she actu­ally wanted to come back from the activ­i­ties of this night, for me.

and, of course, i woke up just as that night was get­ting underway.

but i think it was one of those dreams where i am in a film, or some­thing like that. first of all, i worked with owen wil­son (who was gay and a top in my dream, btw). i also met alan alda, who was an older gen­tle­man who hung around the school and i felt was the key to find­ing out what was up with this girl (whose name i for­get but began with an A and was not a short name like anna or amy). i impressed him with my abil­ity to jump over rivers (it was a dream, eh).

right, so i knew i was gonna vote for obama any­way. but then i read this arti­cle…and wow. i don’t give a shit if this seems like pan­der­ing. a can­di­date who lis­tens? and responds? on an issue that is pretty polar­iz­ing for those with an inter­est? fuuuuuck.

my cousin asked me a cou­ple weeks ago if i wanted to go to NH with him and vol­un­teer for obama. this has pushed me towards “yes” (even though, iron­i­cally enough, it means doing stuff with people).

i was con­coct­ing a rather bril­liant idea for a post at work today while i was clean­ing out an ink waste con­tainer. waste ink, by the way, has the con­sis­tency of pud­ding and the best way to clean it out is to scoop it out by hand. stick­ing your hand in that is a tex­ture both sen­sual and ooky at the same time.

uh, any­ways here i am fin­ish­ing up scoop­ing out ink and i take off my gloves and notice that i’ve some­how torn a hole in the index fin­ger and enough ink leaked in to cover my fin­ger in a solid layer of black. only my index fin­ger. the first thing to cross my mind upon sight of my hand? “jesus, it looks like i’ve been fin­ger­ing a squid.”

and this cleared out what­ever great post idea i had…still.

(i have a thing for post titles like that, don’t i?)

this arti­cle on slate has an inter­est­ing begin­ning, inspired by the new play by tom stop­pard. i don’t agree with the full con­cept of the piece (amer­i­can cul­tural exports can make those less-than-enamored with us like us again), but i liked what it said about stoppard’s new play. maybe i should just find an arti­cle on the play and post a link to that, eh? ah, here we go. much better.

so, any­ways, read­ing about this made me wish i could find that lp of this czech rock band from the ’60’s i found at the leg­endary jerry’s in pitts­burgh ten years ago. what was their name…prazsky vyber? google says…looks like them. any­ways, i do have a cd by už jsme doma, so that’s kinda close…

but, you know, that will have to wait, as i’m lis­ten­ing to cur­rent 93’s inmost­light tril­ogy. drink­ing port. at 2am. which actu­ally sounds both more and less ok than you’d think.