There were many cool prizes at the raffle we had today at a charity event organized by Klara’s school. The most coveted prize consisted of “Cards vs Cubs tickets.” I have only the vaguest idea what this means but who do you think won them?
Yes, the person who never wins anything. Me.
I can’t wait until Facebook goes 100% to selling stuff and posting family photos. That’s the really good side of Facebook. I bought two coats for Klara, $50 for both. And sold a $550 gewgaw. Then I looked at the photos of friends’ and colleagues’ kids. What’s not to like?
But no, people have to keep adding text. “As a mother of a cis-gendered white 8-year-old boy I know that my son constitutes a grave danger for the women who will cross his path, yadda yadda yadda.” God, you know? I was a happy person who just sold a gewgaw for a bunch of money and admired some really cute toddler pics. And then I had to see this.
Leafed through my blogroll and saw, repeated in a hundred identical pieces, that Kavanaugh behaved like a typical entitled white male upper-class frat bro at the hearings. I know that I would have spoken in the exact same way in his situation – and I’m definitely innocent of assaulting Dr Ford or anyone. I honestly have never identified with anybody’s affect on TV as I have with his. So I guess I’m a typical entitled white male upper-class frat bro.
It’s ok to feel however one felt about the hearings. But I’d never say that those who identified with Ford (which I honestly never could) are typical entitled rich spoiled upper-class princesses. Because that’s not how affect works. Both people here are from very privileged backgrounds and their affect is very different. You can’t use these silly identity categories to explain the world. Some people reach towards vulnerability and others reach towards anger in difficult moments. I tend to reach towards anger. This means absolutely nothing whatsoever about my gender or social origins.
I also don’t understand the attraction of making a point that five hundred people already made today. The blogroll looks like it froze because everybody is repeating the exact same, and frankly not very profound, thing.
Hundreds of people attended the talk of one of the chief propagandists of Putinism at Yale. I don’t believe talks should be cancelled because the speaker is a known liar and promotes horrible, vicious ideology. But I wonder why people would want to go. There’s nothing new or fresh in this propaganda. Thanks to Facebook, The Nation, and The National Review, we have already heard it many times.
I wish Putinoids came up with fresher talking points, though. This spiel is getting stale.
I was completely stalled in my work on the new book. The writing wasn’t happening, ideas were Freshman-style vague, it was all kind of lackluster.
And then I finally found the notebook I’ve been looking for forever. It’s exactly like the only kind of thick notebook we had back in the USSR that was called Shared Notebook. There were many colors but I bought dark brown because we never had anything else in the USSR.
And the moment I opened my new notebook, I had my idea. It’s very crazy but I love it. Yes, it’s crazy idea number four but this time I started writing immediately. I write every second I get. I’ll soon need another notebook in the nostalgic Soviet style.
It’s all about the right notebook.
I check the weather forecast in Germany every day but it’s useless because I can no longer believe it can be under 30°C anywhere. It’s not real to me any more.
God, I hate this disgusting climate. Everybody is sweaty and stinky all the time, and I’m unusually sensitive to smell.