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An Exhausted Report
Aug. 5th, 2019 08:41 pmIs outrage fatigue a thing? I have to suspect Trump and his followers are counting on it, because there's something terrible happening every day. There being two mass shootings this past weekend is disturbing as hell, but sadly not too shocking anymore. Not that Trump directly caused the shootings, but his racist rhetoric is empowering white supremacists. Maybe they're hoping we'll get desensitized to it. It is, however, not true that ICE was arresting people in the aftermath of the El Paso shooting. At this point, I can believe pretty much any racist thing happening. And there are still people blaming domestic terrorism on video games. Dudes, Space Invaders came out over forty years ago. You can't keep pretending they're something it's safe to blame for bad things because only the kids understand them.
As for what I personally have (or, in some cases, haven't) done recently, Beth saw Ben Folds with the Violent Femmes on Thursday, and I chose not to attend. I also turned down the chance to see Weird Al a few weeks ago, although that was the weekend it was unbearably hot, so I can't say I regret it. I just don't have the energy for concerts anymore. It helps when I buy tickets well in advance, so then it would be wasteful if I didn't go. I have tickets to see Robyn Hitchcock with Tanya Donnelly in November. He always seems to play in Brooklyn around my birthday, although I didn't go last year. For that one particular concert, though, I was still pretty tired after OzCon.
Meme by Erica Olivera, from a picture by John R. Neill
I did, however, go with Beth to see Michael Ian Black on Friday evening.
His opener was Maggie Rosenquist, who had a similar style of humor, very sarcastic.
Michael told his shaggy dog story about Subway, which I remember him doing at a different show a while back. He called the Italian BMT a "garbage sandwich," but that's what I often get there! But I do agree that saying the letters stand for "Big, Meaty, Tasty" is pretty gross (not to mention slightly pornographic), and I don't think I knew that before. It's actually named after the BMT subway line, which was sold to the city in 1940. I bought a Subway sandwich for tonight, and it's just ham. I don't get vegetables on my sandwiches like some kind of nineties sketch comedian.
On Saturday, Beth and I both slept until evening. Then someone who recently followed me on Instagram tried to convince me to have kids, which was pretty bizarre. It would be strange enough even if it were someone I actually knew. I can't recall there ever being a time when I wanted kids, and I'm pretty sure humanity will live on anyway, unless we all die of global warming or nuclear war. Beth and I had dinner at Pizzeria Uno, and she brought a little bit of lobster home for our cat Reagan, thinking it would be a special treat. Rea didn't even touch it. What the hell, cat? Here she is looking at me from the arm of the couch.
As for what I personally have (or, in some cases, haven't) done recently, Beth saw Ben Folds with the Violent Femmes on Thursday, and I chose not to attend. I also turned down the chance to see Weird Al a few weeks ago, although that was the weekend it was unbearably hot, so I can't say I regret it. I just don't have the energy for concerts anymore. It helps when I buy tickets well in advance, so then it would be wasteful if I didn't go. I have tickets to see Robyn Hitchcock with Tanya Donnelly in November. He always seems to play in Brooklyn around my birthday, although I didn't go last year. For that one particular concert, though, I was still pretty tired after OzCon.
Meme by Erica Olivera, from a picture by John R. Neill
I did, however, go with Beth to see Michael Ian Black on Friday evening.
His opener was Maggie Rosenquist, who had a similar style of humor, very sarcastic.
Michael told his shaggy dog story about Subway, which I remember him doing at a different show a while back. He called the Italian BMT a "garbage sandwich," but that's what I often get there! But I do agree that saying the letters stand for "Big, Meaty, Tasty" is pretty gross (not to mention slightly pornographic), and I don't think I knew that before. It's actually named after the BMT subway line, which was sold to the city in 1940. I bought a Subway sandwich for tonight, and it's just ham. I don't get vegetables on my sandwiches like some kind of nineties sketch comedian.
On Saturday, Beth and I both slept until evening. Then someone who recently followed me on Instagram tried to convince me to have kids, which was pretty bizarre. It would be strange enough even if it were someone I actually knew. I can't recall there ever being a time when I wanted kids, and I'm pretty sure humanity will live on anyway, unless we all die of global warming or nuclear war. Beth and I had dinner at Pizzeria Uno, and she brought a little bit of lobster home for our cat Reagan, thinking it would be a special treat. Rea didn't even touch it. What the hell, cat? Here she is looking at me from the arm of the couch.
