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UNREASSURING HEADLINE OF THE DAY:
“FDA Moves to Decrease Lead in Candy.”
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20051222/ap_on_he_me/lead_candy
First off, I had no idea there was lead in candy. (If I’d had any idea, I’d have given a lot more to certain sweet-toothed but not necessarily sweet-natured individuals I know.) Second, they’re moving to decrease it, rather than eliminate it??? What’s next, FDA moves to reduce radium in baby food? Arsenic in apple sauce? Anthrax in aspirin? I can’t stand these headlines that unsettle you with their unspoken implications. “Senate Seeks To Limit Covert Wiretaps of Americans.” “Congress Seeks Stricter Limits on Torture.” “Donald Trump Jr. To Assume Bigger role in Trump Empire”—which offers, among other associative unpleasantnesses, the profoundly disturbing reminder that Donald Trump must have once had sex.
“YA THINK?” HEADLINE OF THE DAY:
“Judge Rules Caging of Ohio Children was Abuse.”
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20051222/ap_on_re_us/caged_children
The laugh whore in me wants to write: Wow, it’d be nice if someone had told my parents that. (Just kidding Mom. I’ve forgiven you :)). The moralist in me wants to write: Now the fact that this even has to be put in question and ruled on by a court suggests a truly disturbing failing in our society. When kids are found locked in cages like animals, the parents should be instantly locked in cages like animals and neutered so as not to be able to spawn in captivity. Thin the herd. Stop those genes from polluting the gene pool. And the realist in me wants to write: I’m surprised. I thought the FDA would just seek to limit the amount of time parents are allowed to keep Junior and Sissy behind bars.
QUESTION OF THE DAY:
Is Giant's all-pro lineman Osi Umenyiora the only player in professional sports to have all 5 vowels in his last name?
VISION OF PARADISE DU JOUR:
Blissful vacuousness, punctuated by the random, communicable apercu.
More specifically: Sitting in the shade after a good night’s sleep, watching other people get all hot in the sun and wet in the pool while I, dry and warm, sip coffee, smoke a Cohiba, peruse a book, and, magically connected by the great wireless umbilicus, check stock prices, read that the NYC transit shutdown will have lasted precisely the duration of my vacation and post the occasional quip, reflection or observation.
VISION OF PURGATORY DU JOUR:
Experiencing the above then noticing that my laptop battery is about to run out and my charger is already packed and inaccessible.
SUGGESTED BAND NAME OF THE DAY:
The Irreplaceable Cog.
STATISTICAL ODDITY OF THE DAY:
Mr. Vegas getting 2 split aces at the blackjack table once with the dealer showing a 5 and once with the dealer showing a 3 and losing on all 4 bets.
DINING-RELATED MISFORTUNE OF THE DAY:
Having to overhear a honey-voiced gay (not that there's anything wrong with it) couple at the next table angle endlessly and passive aggressively for a free dessert. “You know, I love hearts of palm which is why I ordered the salad I did--you know, the hearts of palm and artichoke heart salad--but I kept looking for them and I didn’t see any. It’s no big deal, I mean the salad was deliciously dressed, but I was just wondering if I’d missed something. Because I really really love hearts of palm and it was just funny cause I looked and l looked and I looked and I just didn’t see any in there. No biggie. It was just funny that’s all." This complaint masquerading as query was repeated with slight variations until the poor waitress finally brought out some complimentary champagne and (I trust, saliva-drizzled) strawberries--an offering that was greeted with equally insufferable ohhs and ahhs of feigned surprise and delight. The indignity of having to overhear this was compounded by their next topic of discussion: Mattress sizes. "I'm really enjoying the King size bed. So roomy and comfortable. Now we have a twin bed at home right? And when we sleep together we're, what, about a foot or two apart?" Then they--or rather, he--continued with tedious appetite-inhibiting earnestness. "Now your parents have always slept on a queen bed, haven't they? And they always have, right? I think a queen and a full are almost the same size. The queen is just a little bit larger. I've had queens and fulls. And, I think a twin. But never a king. This is really a different sleeping experience. Have your parents ever slept on a king?" To make it vaguely more tolerable, I was imaging them integrating a discussion of bed-related activities into this mind-numbing exchange. "Well, when you enter my rectum at night on the twin, you have, what, a foot or so to work with on either side of me for lumbar support? But now when your father enters your mother from behind, he has a little more room to work I would think with because they have the queen, right?"
COMPOSITIONAL CONFESSION OF THE DAY:
I used to turn my nose up at recourse to a thesaurus. I suppose I had a certain contempt for the reductive assumption of semantic equivalence that governs the notion of that compositional aid and had a defiant, quasi-poetic belief in context-specific linguistic invention. However, either out of advancing age (as I have fewer operative brain cells) or advancing laziness (as I have fewer operative power cells), I am less loathe to outsource some menial intellectual labor to Monsieur Roget and his kind. I realize that this evolution or devolution of my writerly idiosyncrasies (tastes, predilections, preferences,…) may be of absolutely no interest to anyone else and may, upon reflection, be of no interest to me either. But there it is. Chalk it up to expressive incontinence or blogger Tourettes or too much rum.
DANGLING CLAUSE OF THE DAY:
With all the implied threat of a X-mas card from your doorman.
SIGN-OFF OF THE DAY:
Ok, the battery charge and the sun are both way way down. And speaking of way way down, it's time for Senor Vegas to head over to the black jack tables to let Senora Fortuna bitch slap him one last time.
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Posted on 12/23/2005
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