Far South of I-10

In our apartment we have a balcony that opens up to what should be a side street, but since the next street over has become a major traffic jam, our quiet street seems to get louder every day. Car alarms, traffic, the rattle of trucks filled with propane bottles, it all fills the street. Stranger still is the sound of horseshoes, since a major mode of garbage removal is horse drawn wagons. Most garbage is picked up by modern trucks a few times a week, but the horse drawn wagons pass every few hours and pick up things of value like cardboard boxes, or appliances, or an american flag that my wife tried to throw out. (I had to explain that it's not junk no matter how fucked up looking it is, we need to burn it during a barbeque after I rescued the flag from the trash.) In the mornings on the weekends there is a tamale vendor that walks the streets, "Tamales, tamales, tamales" she cries, and it's more stretched out than the tamale vendors in the apartment where I lived

It's pretty depressing that at some point most of the blogosphere will be nothing but dead links and dead people. As my bookmarks such as Cathy Seip and Acidman pass away, the internet will become another tomb of man. As William Cullen Bryant said: ...The hills Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun; the vales Stretching in pensive quietness between; The venerable woods—rivers that move In majesty, and the complaining brooks That make the meadows green; and, poured round all, Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste,— Are but the solemn decorations all Of the great tomb of man! with a modern update: The links and banner ads, porno and erection aids Arguments over politics and religion, cutting wit and sock puppets, bloggers and MSM fill this internet, this google cache, the darkening web

I'm just waiting out the last couple of hours before I turn 40. In an optimistic way of looking at things, I've probably got another half-life left to go. Less optimistic way of looking at things gives me 20 - 25 effective years before I retire to the couch full time. Since I've only got 17 years professional work experience, I still have more ahead of me than behind me. (not sure if that's optimistic or not, I think I'd rather retire now) Who knows? maybe in 40 years aging will be conquered, and I'll live long enough to see all the rich and famous people get treatments that keep them young forever and I'll shake my diet bud can at the HD hologram set as Paris reenacts her sex tape live on CBS for the 50th anniversary of it being released on the internet. As my palsied liver-spotted hand stabs at the tivo button, tivo will reach into my blogspot archive and bring out this post and I'll get the satisfaction of knowing I was right about the future bef

We're in Bogota and George Bush arrived this morning. He's having lunch now at Casa Narino where President Uribe lives. The airport is pretty much shut down this afternoon and the normal opening of the streets to pedestrians and bicycles is canceled today so we're just huddling down in the apartment with delivery pizza. The cnn ticker occasionally flashes that colombian police are battling protesters, but the local news isn't saying anything about that, who knows what that means. Lots of police sirens in the distance, I hope they are just leading the president to safety. From El tiempo: La Policía Metropolitana informó que algunos alborotadores trataron de tomarse la estación de TransMilenio de la Avenida Caracas a la altura de la calle 34, zona donde fueron atacados algunos comercios y sucursales bancarias. Los disturbios se produjeron tras un mitin de protesta por la visita, convocado por la Gran Coalición Democrática, convergencia de centrales sindicales, partid

I love the comic achewood, I only saw it last week when lileks pointed it out, but there are years online with a pull-down that lets you choose different story arcs. It's kind of funny strange and funny haha at the same time. This one really hit the nail on the as far as depression goes, when a good objective for the day is to eat some goddamn peanutbutter.