I’m not as well schooled on the Vietnam era as I am on other things, though I know more about it than most people my age, if only because I find it more interesting than shopping for Jim Choo’s — they are out of my price range and my legs look quite fine without heals because they are fairly long.

I gather, from what I’ve read on McNamara’s passing, that people think he owns Vietnam, or he should. So they’ve assigned it to him. Understandable, but I’m not convinced he should be sole owner. It’s as convenient, and right, to blame Vietnam on the likes of McNamara as it is to blame Iraq on Bush and friends (liars), a congress unwilling to listen to the sense of Robert Byrd (cowards), and complicit or incompetent journalism (caught in the middle with you). Next time it will be our fault.

History has changed things. So has the internet. We saw that with the presidential election, we are seeing it in some way now with Iran’s Executives of Construction Party dismissing the vote and siding with the opposition. Next time we will be to blame. As the internet continues to grow, and access to real and substantive sources of information increases, there will be fewer excuses for complicit apathy by way of intentional ignorance. Yes, it is still a free country, and everyone should be free to practice both ignorance and apathy as they see fit. No one should be denied their preferred intent. This is merely a reminder that we should enjoy the scapegoats while we can.

I’ll have to do more reading on Vietnam. Not immediately, as I have my second summer session, work, and Infinite indiJestion, along with My Sister My Love, will consume most of my summer reading time. I’m am up for general or academic reading suggestions on Vietnam though.

Speaking of Infinite Jest. I haven’t been an end note virgin for years, but now I am an end note whore, having given myself up to my first 9 8.4 page end note experience. Isn’t this a rite of passage? Shouldn’t there be gifts and parties, or at least a dinner out, for this?

Infinite Jest:

This is for anyone considering an attempt at this gargantuan novel. With more characters on the first two pages than in the last ten books I’ve read, this is novel of a future dystopia (or five future dystopias, it’s hard to tell at p. 120, but I fear the worse) that only a genius who has forgotten to take his Adderall could have written. Reading Infinite Jest has made me realize it may have been a mistake not to have taken up a friend’s invitation to check out the Tibetan Meditation Center situated the mountains not far from here. I was not completely unprepared, having resumed my Yoga classes in May, but be forewarned, reading this book requires the taking or doing of something to sedate thoughts and mollify the spirit. No getting through it otherwise.

The neither here nor there:

There is much we should know, and even more we should be spared. Sanford Calls Mistress His ‘Soul Mate’, and anything written after such a title, is in the later category.

I’m one of those non twittering twitterers. Most of my life occurs offline, and I prefer it that way. I’ve never really felt the need to twitter, but when a bandwagon full of such a diverse variety of virtual humanity called I was more than willing to jump on it for a short test ride. I got off quickly the first time, but jumped on once more when the wagon got larger. It’s still too difficult to manage to fit into my real life, but this twitter for busy people might be just the thing to help with that problem.

Check out the new theme and post your complaints. You can open the menu and the footer with the tabs at the top right and bottom left. Let me know if you prefer them permanently open, as that can be managed. I can also remove all the posts from the first page and make it just as a regular blog, though those who read me from their reader won’t really be affected by this. I aim to please. Especially on Tuesdays.

Peace

I’m out to purchase some food. I’m giving my cousin a 20th birthday dinner tonight. Her birthday was a couple of weeks ago. It’s a convenient time for our yearly commiseration. She is in town for the weekend after a weeks’ vacation she took with her mother and friends. She’s heading back to Pittsburgh, where she goes to college during the regular term and works at two jobs this summer. It’s the first “not living at home summer” for her, necessary because she got an apartment for her junior year and it needs to be paid for. The beginning of the end, as it goes, or is called, in our family. The first signal that you won’t be home again except to visit. The females in our family historically are more likely to move out earlier and more permanently than the males. I’m not sure why that is, but it is curious. From The east coast to the west it is a distinct pattern on one side of my family tree anyway.

She can’t drink legally of course, and I feel like an ogre because when she asked about going to a certain club I declined to take her, fake id or not. She didn’t seem to concerned though, and we’ll spend the evening here in mindless conversation. I’ll fill her head with advice and she’ll pretend she is listening. Ill have to hear too much about her new boyfriend, who happens to be older than her and out of college. Yes, been there done that, but whatever. The guy also lives at home still, which I have to get a handle on because things like that sound suspect to me. I call them “homeboys”, and though somewhat derogatory it isn’t really meant to be, it’s just something I can’t get a handle on. It also disturbs me some that she only dumped her old boyfriend after the new boyfriend came into the picture. My advice always is to spend some time boyfriend-less, but that is personal preference I guess. Merlot will be involved of course, she is Cuban on her father’s side, and it is not illegal in the mind of Cubans no matter where they live, to drink decent wine with dinner, even when you are 12.

I’m dallying because I dislike buying groceries as a rule. I’ll probably hit the wine shop first.

Take out Japanese food is beginning to sound good…….

peace