April 03, 2007

Well, Then.

If there isn't any salt in it, why do they call it the "Salt River"? It sounds like it's fresh water, and related to the canals in the area. I like that, but I want two different types of water bodies (with different effects on decaying human flesh, of course—sorry to be gross, and all that).

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On the Other Hand, It Is Feasible.

I'd need to produce 3-5 pages a day.

A the H informs me that he'd be happy to switch our anniversary vacation destination from La Jolla to Arizona. (Sorry, Desert Cat: the timeline doesn't permit me to set the story in Tucson. I have to draw on my existing knowledge base of the Phoenix area in order to get this one done on time. So the main location will be one of the Fenix suburbs. I still want to introduce some small-town color, though, and I'm taking nominations for that. I want an excuse to really get some bitchin' landscape into the plot.

BTW, feel free to tell me what you know about the hydrology of Scottsdale/Phoenix: which bodies of water are natural, and which are man-made? Isn't one of them a salt-water river? Why?)

I think I know who my protagonists are. I just have to whip up a crime, and I'll be practically done.

Gotta go: time for a nap. (Seriously: I need to get my unconscious mind to work, here.)

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Regarding the Hillerman Mystery Contest

I think it's important to point out that Southern California is in the Southwestern United States. Would someone please send a map to the people at St. Martin's Press? (And what do you mean, L.A. isn't underrepresented in the genre?)

Hm. I wonder if I could quickly re-write Ye Olde Mystery so it takes place in Tempe, Arizona rather than Santa Monica, California.

So: "She could feel the sea air over her skin" becomes "she could smell the scent of the cactus as she drifted off to sleep." The problem being that cacti don't have much of a smell.

Or: "She checked for slugs in the grass as she walked across the yard" becomes "she saw a lizard dart over the gravel ahead of her."

Or: "the air got misty" becomes "it rained hard and was freezing cold and why is the weather so extreme in the freaking desert, anyway?"

Easy shmeasy.

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April 02, 2007

"I'm Not Ready To Get Another Car," I Tell My Husband.

"You know how we are in my family: we like to drive them into the ground."

"That's fine," he replied. "But the car is in the ground."

A new starter and a new fuel pump in the same month. I feel like someone's trying to tell me something . . .

This week, a question for Bachelor Number Three: "I crave Vitamin D. Why do I have to buy $1500 worth of options just to get you with a moonroof?"

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Wow.

Another link over at Glenn's place. This one is about ambitious teenagers and the strange signals they are sent.

I could only read the first page: the messages sent to young women today sound too much like the ones I grew up with. All of the "you can have it all" stuff eventually transmutes into "you can do it all." It's a lie, of course.

"Why," I once asked my mother, "did you tell me grades didn't matter, that you just wanted me to learn? Why did you say that when it was so patently untrue?"

"It didn't occur to me that you'd actually get bad grades," she told me. "It just that I thought the 'A' level was down here"—she brought her hand to her waist—"and I really wanted you to achieve up here." She raised her right hand high above her head.

She laughed. My aunt and my cousins were there, watching us. They've spent 44 years watching us; we must be fascinating, like a cock fight. Or, I suppose, a hen fight.

I said nothing that day, because I couldn't trust myself not to say or do something awful. But later on I figured out what she had really meant by "don't worry about grades, just concentrate on learning." She had wanted me to get very good grades, but make it look effortless.

On some level, I got the message: I manage to hold the idea of housework, for example, in complete contempt as a total waste of my time. And yet at the very same instance I'm deeply ashamed that my house isn't perfectly neat and totally spotless. I should do it perfectly without looking like I do it at all.

I require myself to be completely yin, and yet totally yang. At any given moment.

And I carry the hen fight within me, every day.

Today I had dinner with my mother. I drove her where she needed to go, and let her buy me dinner, and listened to her criticize my driving—relentlessly, and in a thoroughly illogical, inconsistent fashion. And when she got around to apologizing, I told her it was fine.

"I'm not insecure about my driving," I explained.

I'm a human bonsai: twisted by nature, and made more grotesque/beautiful by strange nurture.

But what I will do is endure. And endurance is triumph.

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Yet More on Fred Thompson

I don't think he has to announce soon. He may not even want to run; he might only be thinking that he ought to if the top 3-4 guys can't generate just a little bit more excitement.

But the fact is, should he decide to run he's got a couple of huge advantages over the other candidates. (And it ain't just "the actor factor," either.)

At this point, McCain, Giuliani, Romney—and Gingrich, if he's actually serious—had better be bringing their "A" game onto this "pre-primary" testing ground. Because if they don't, Thompson could swoop down like a hawk. And let's face it: with his connections (political and entertainment-industry) and his charisma, his fundraising is going to go a lot more quickly than anyone else's has, and Sean's concern about "the money primary" WRT Thompson is probably a bit misplaced.

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On the Michael Ware-John McCain Flap

Insty has a mini-roundup on the incident in which CNN "reporter" Michael Ware actually heckled John McCain during a press conference.

See also Ace's take on Michael Ware. He's right. This guy isn't a reporter. But how much longer is CNN going to continue to pay him to party hard and slant the news?

After one of Glenn's readers points out that a "dogma" is developing in the MSM (the "Standard Total Journalistic View of Iraq"), he responds, "Hmm. There's a developing standard view on journalists and the war, too."

Yup.

UPDATE: Okay: this is turning into another one of those annoying situations in which each side has its own "facts." If Drudge made this up, I'm going to be pretty pissed. See here. Does anyone know if this video is accurate/edited?

Anyone? Fucking Bueller?

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April 01, 2007

New Evidence Surfaces

That it isn't a good idea to drink and P-Shop.

SeanModified.jpg

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Yemen 101

Jane's got a primer right here.

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So. Suddenly, MySpace Might Become a Locus for Serious Political Discussion.

I'd never quite thought of it in those terms, but now Fox Interactive Media has bought Sean Hackbarth's The American Mind, specifically to create a political arena within MySpace. (Why not? Someone ought to do something with it, now that the youngsters have moved on to Facebook.)

The American Mind is an interesting weblog, in that it discusses a lot of the political and pop culture issues the rest of us cover (and, yes—it is a Wisconsin-centered blog, or has been: I don't know to what extent Sean's moving to Iowa will change that). Yet at the same time, Sean's background is in economics, and that comes across: his analyses are more informed by his understanding of how markets work than are those of some of his peers.

And he is, despite the earring and soul patch, a rock-solid conservative.

As for me, I'm having the usual reaction: "wow! Another blogger is going pro! Terrific! A rising tide lifts all boutique blogs, doncha know. On the other hand, why wasn't it me, this time? I'm sooooo willing to sell out, if only someone would buy."

UPDATE: Sean's commenters look at the calendar, and say maybe not.

Hm. It's true that I'm awfully gullible, since I don't do April Fool's Day jokes myself. When I saw that Google was implementing a new "feature" that would have them printing out paper copies of e-mail for archival purposes, I thought, "wouldn't the volume have to be a bit high in order to make that efficient?" So I've been pwned at least once today before breakfast: five or six more to go, depending, before I can have my eggs and bacon.

UPDATE 2: Someone's pointed out that the Red Queen believed impossible things, whereas I'm only believing highly improbable things. In the real world, there may not be much of a difference.

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Michael Crichton

. . . discusses global warming, genetically modified foods, and how tough it is to "predict the past."

Via The Anchoress, as part of a worthwhile pre-retreat linkfest.

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Some People Just Have

. . . a need for speed.

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