I'm sure I've heard this somewhere before...

In a recent Forbes op-ed, Bill Flax opines that universal sufferage is a horrible, terrible thing foisted on Americans by political correctness. People who don't pay taxes (by which he means those who get refunds or refundable tax credits) shouldn't be able to vote. People on the dole shouldn't be able to vote. His bulleted suggestions:

• A basic literacy assessment;
• A non-partisan test ensuring competency of basic constitutional principles;
• A stake in the community reflected by property, employment or other measures;
• Restrict the franchise to lessen conflicts of interest regarding state employees, lobbyists, contractors, etc.;
• Surrender one’s voting privileges when seeking public assistance.

Stop me if you've heard any of these before...

Because I am AWESOME, that's why!

In the past few days, I've pulled my back, jammed my bad hip, banged my knee into a solid oak door, stabbed my palm, banged my knuckle, and burned my other hand. Go, me!

A Tale of Two Books

(or: I really need some fucking sleep)

This week I finished two excellent books that are nothing alike. At all. Please note that I'm somewhat giddy from insomnia, so this might not make a lot of sense.

Middlesex by Jeffery Eugenidies is... so beautiful. Everyone and their great aunt in the progressive blogosphere has recommended this book at some point since it won the Pulitzer Prize in 2003 - for good reason. No description i can give can do the epic-ness of this story justice, or the intimacy. It's gorgeous and sweeping and somehow about one remarkable person who started life as Calliope and narrates as Cal. Trust me, this book is worth it.

But here's the deal: You know how it's going to end. It's right there in the intro. And there's nothing wrong with that - the joy of this book is watching the story unfold, from a village on Mount Olympus in the 1920's to Detroit in the 1960's to Berlin in the 2000's.

Spin by Robert Charles Wilson is a bit more difficult. You really have no clue what the fuck is going on until about halfway through, and even then nothing becomes clear until almost the end. The first bits are the hardest - the characters aren't exactly relateable. But once the Spin itself comes into the picture, things get interesting. As in glued to my Kindle, holy fuck, it's way to early, I need some damn sleep interesting. There are sequels being downloaded as I type.

As I said above, I found Middlesex through friends. But Spin came to me in a much more roundabout fashion. NPR runs a series called You Must Read This, in which authors give their recommendations for 'buttonhole books' - books you will literally flag a person down in the middle of the street and give them a copy of it. I had heard a segment that sounded interesting, and wanted to check out the promised excerpt. The rec fizzled - seriously, present tense, second person? Could there be anything more annoying? BUT, there are 'if you like this...' links on the page, and one of them was for the final book in the Spin trilogy.

So, which book will I buttonhole for? Middlesex. Go. Buy a copy. Spin? IF you like hard SF and can live with characters that aren't exactly up to snuff, then go for it. (and you have a few extra hours you don't mind giving up to a hell of a rollercoaster) But for fuck's sake, read Middlesex.

Things that are...

Things that are teh suck:

• Cramps. Whoever invented them needs to die in a fire.
• Assholes who play their music too loud. I've said it before: I have no fucking desire to hear your music. I don't subject you to Noa, Gaelic Storm, Great Big Sea or show tunes. Please return the favor.
• People who think they get to dictate on street parking. THERE IS A FUCKING FIRE HYDRANT in front of our house. We cannot park there. Not just because we'll get a ticket - fire hydrants are important. If your fucking house caught on fire, would you want access to water impeded by assholes? We are not assholes.
• Nancy Grace. She is a horrible excuse for a human being - I don't recall an apology after she tried to hound the Duke Lacrosse team into confessing. Nor one when her interview techniques arguably led the mother of a missing boy to kill herself. Not even one after she was so horrible to Elizabeth Smart. Ms Grace seems to have forgotten the point of a jury system: one person does not decide guilt or innocence. She is a Stormwing. a loathsome being that lives on the pain and horror of others.

Things that are awesome:

• My Kindle. I need a cover for it that says 'Don't Panic' in big, friendly letters, because this thing is pretty damn close to the Hitchhiker's Guide.
• Bottle Caps candy. 'Nuff said.
• Painkillers. See cramps, above.
• A full Bridge card. We're usually pretty good about making sure we've got enough food to last until the 9th, but we effed up big time last month. By yesterday, we were down to ramen and butterscotch pudding (not, thank the gods, at the same time. Yech).
• A new Russell/Holmes short story.

Youtubes. Of semi-randomness!

First, I shall be patriotic (and get a good giggle):

Second, A really boss intro, followed by the ladies of Avatar: The Last Airbender kicking ass and taking names:

Third, two of my favorite Brits, being funny:

They talk about Lovecraft! And Doctor Who! And Craig Ferguson has a TARDIS on his desk! And Neil Gaiman wrote an amazing episode of Doctor Who! Thank the gods of punctuation, exclamation points aren't endangered!

Effing concerts...

Swear to god, the main venue for Summer Celebration is a good two miles away, yet I can still hear someone yammering into a mike. This is how you know your concerts are TOO FUCKING LOUD!

Double crap

Hey, I think I may know why I've been pissy and out of sorts this past week! The two year anniversary of losing Dad kinda snuck up on me. Shit.