I don’t particularly want to feel old, but: Serial Box.

I’ve got this all figured out.

Are you anxious? Relax!
Are you depressed? Cheer up!
Are you sad? Smile!
Are you angry? Calm down!

See? Everything’s better now.

*deep breath*

OOOOOAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAALLLLL
LLLLLLL!!

(Apparently Argentina is winning a game)

GOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOO…

No need to read those “Artist X reveals their all-time favorite album” clickbait articles— we all know it’s Jeff Buckley’s Grace.

#IHopeJohnRoberts dreamed he was still in the psychiatric facility playing backgammon with his new friend and was sad when he woke up because he wasn't, so when he got to work he asked Brett Kavanaugh if he'd like to play a game with him but Kavanaugh just looked darkly at him (which wasn't actually all that dark because of his baby face) then undid one button of his shirt to reveal the inverted Federalist Society medallion he was wearing between his moobs against his weirdly babysmooth chest skin and muttered "SHAME!" just like Alito and Thomas did a few days ago, and honestly after everything that's been happening lately Roberts doesn't have enough cortisol left to really feel fear anymore so instead he just feels left out that Leonard Leo never invited him to join his cult.

Bass player of the day, Nick Beggs, because good god, y’all.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nick_Beggs

https://youtu.be/Ugi1U9vwmG0?is=F-sPYY-KWL9QWKvi

Attachment is causing me suffering, yo. 🤬

Oh did I mention the 450 dollar washing machine “repair” we just paid for? Guy came, diagnosed it, came back with the part today & declared it fixed, and it didn’t last 10 minutes into the first load after he left.

That’s a lotta quarters.

Me: “What else could go wrong?”

My central AC: “Don’t ask.”

I know it’s a holdover from the onerous contracts Apple had to sign with the labels when they built the iTunes Store, but it says something when it’s easier to drop a song in a toot than it is to get it into the Music app on my iPhone.

Also easier to drop it onto my web server though that would be 2 more clicks in Transmit.

My beard has been slowly moving up my cheeks to where in the last year I have grown new hairs less than an inch from either eyebrow.

I mean, I shave, but damn, feeling stubble on my temple is disconcerting.

This morning #IHopeJohnRoberts is allowed to join the other patients in the common room for a group therapy session where a man who believes he's Tsar Nicholas and a woman who's sure she's really a space kitty temporarily in human form listen attentively to him explain that he's the chief justice of the United States and reassure him that they believe him, and then they're all served a surprisingly tasty meat loaf with mashed potatoes and green beans for lunch, and then he plays a couple games of backgammon with a very nice person of indeterminate gender who thinks Roberts is one of the orderlies and keeps calling him "sir," and honestly it's one of the most collegial, pleasant days he's had in a long time and he sort of hopes they don't release him too soon, but then the facility administrator comes in accompanied by the girl U.S. Marshal from the Court's protective detail and he realizes that instead of getting to keep hanging out with his undemanding new friends he instead has to go back to his lonely big house tonight and then tomorrow he'll have to return to work with assholes like Alito and Thomas, and it makes him sad.

We were taking the dog to meet her trainer at the park, and that distracted me enough to settle down- I think I have exhausted myself and shal now proceed to read something boring enough to pass out for a while.

Why are brains?

Ugh, it’s not going away. I’m a passenger in a car on the freeway trying not to freak the fuck out. How did I do this before meds?

It comes and goes in waves, 1-2 hours? and I am getting absolutely walloped right now.

Thank god I slept for 6.25 hours last night. That’s an abnormal surfeit these days.

The background radiation of free-floating anxiety as a side-effect of this slow clonapin taper could go on for another six months, or maybe the rest of my life. Yay!

Got my vintage sticker from eBay and gussied up the 4Runner a little bit.

Protest music can have #revolutionaryJoy too, for the record (heh that’s a pun)!

Here’s a film recording from June of 1969 at the Montreux Jazz Festival in Switzerland, audio of which is available as “Swiss Movement” (1969) by Les McCann (piano/vocals) & Eddie Harris (tenor sax), with Leroy Vinnegar on bass, Donald Dean on drums, and Benny Bailey on trumpet.

Written in 1966, fifty sixty! years ago, this is a song of protest against the direction a nation is moving in and an unpopular war started by an unpopular president. Also, it absolutely fucking slaps.

The President, he’s got his war

Folks don’t know just what it’s for

Nobody gives us rhyme or reason

Have one doubt, they call it treason

We’re chicken-feathers, all without one nut. God damn it!

Tryin’ to make it real, compared to what?

If your protest songs don’t make people wanna get up and move, what even are you trying to do?

#nowPlaying #jazz

I just took all the 20 to 25 year old scraps of paper, the 10 year old notebook they were crammed into that is half full, and the Notes app entry on my phone and have finally begun to unify my Spanish vocabulary into and Omni Outliner file. It will be a WIP, but at least it has moved out of the ”Things to start” column in my head where it has rested for 5 years.

I’m on the cusp of being relatively conversant & despite a lull after rage-quitting Duolingo, I’m back at it with Babbel & my home grown exercise of translating Spanish songs and memorizing the lyrics.