Friday, April 21, 2006

IT IS MORNING IN TULSA FIBONACCI MOON Don't fall awake yet, dreamer. The moon rises, half empty, half fool, to smile on you. (CLICK BILLBOARD) AT DR. OMED'S OPEN SKIES INITIATIVE 10:41:53 PM    comment []

I was sitting in my windowless cubicle in Hell today,   BIG GNOME IS WATCHING YOU   thinking about George Orwell's dystopian novel 1984, the language Newspeak, and the slogans used by the party. Working in Cubeville must make everyone feel a bit like Winston Smith. If it doesn’t, it should. I realize comparing our current doubleplusungood situation to the totalitarian nightmare uncorked by Orwell in his book is old hat, so blackwhite— Like so many Newspeak words, this word has two mutually contradictory meanings. Applied to an opponent, it means the habit of impudently claiming that black is white, in contradictions of the plain facts. Applied to a Party member, it means a loyal willingness to say that black is white when Party discipline demands this. But it means also the ability to believe that black is white, and more, to know that black is white, and to forget that one has ever believed the contrary. This demands a continuous alteration of the past, made possible by a system of thought which really embraces all the rest, and which is known in Newspeak as doublethink. There are so many things Orwell didn’t anticipate, and so many he got right, he used up the whole bag of nails. Particularly the way language is deformed to the uses of power and control. The three slogans, the three ises, the original delineation of the principle “It all depends on what the meaning of is is.” The Ministry of Truth—Minitrue, in Newspeak—was startlingly different from any other object in sight. It was an enormous pyramidal structure of glittering white concrete, soaring up, terrace after terrace, 300 metres into the air. From where Winston stood it was just possible to read, picked out on its white face in elegant lettering, the three slogans of the Party: WAR IS PEACE FREEDOM IS SLAVERY IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH The Ministry of Truth contained, it was said, three thousand rooms above ground level, and corresponding ramifications below. Scattered about London there were just three other buildings of similar appearance and size. So completely did they dwarf the surrounding architecture that from the roof of Victory Mansions you could see all four of them simultaneously. They were the homes of the four Ministries between which the entire apparatus of government was divided. The Ministry of Truth, which concerned itself with news, entertainment, education, and the fine arts. The Ministry of Peace, which concerned itself with war. The Ministry of Love, which maintained law and order. And the Ministry of Plenty, which was responsible for economic affairs. Their names, in Newspeak: Minitrue, Minipax, Miniluv, and Miniplenty. The Ministry of Love was the really frightening one. There were no windows in it at all. DO YOU WORK IN THE MINISTRY OF LOVE?   IS YOU IS YOU IS?   I started with Orwell’s ises and then started in on my own:   WAR IS PEACE   FREEDOM IS SLAVERY IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH     FOX IS NEWS   NEWS IS REALITY   REALITY IS TV     POVERTY IS WEALTH   WEALTH IS OIL   OIL IS FREEDOM     FREEDOM IS WAR   WAR IS FUEL   FUEL IS LOVE     LOVE IS ____     FULL IS BLANK   BLANK IS MIGHT   MIGHT IS RIGHT     LOVE IS ____   DR. OMED INVITES ALL PILGRIMS AND SEEKERS TO FILL IN THE BLANK:   BLANK IS BLANK IS IS IS ____ IS ____ 6:07:48 PM    comment []

RAT FRIDAY G.W. RATBASTARD: MADE IN CHINA Emperor Hu got an apology; do you think the rest of ever will? *Dr. Omed has noted the spread of the meme "Friday Cat Blogging" wherein a blogger posts a picture of his/her personal feline or felines each Friday. Now, Dr. Omed is a civilized man, and therefore has cats about the house, but I introduced a slight twist on this meme a while back. I have a black plastic rat I purchased at the "Big Lots" store for 99 cents. In honor of our all too fearless leader I dubbed this rat George W. Ratbastard, and on Friday, September 3, 2004 I instituted a new meme at the Tent Show, that of Rat Friday, and documented the entirely premeditated and carefully arranged tableaus of the adventures of the aforsaid George W. Ratbastard. Say it with me, Pilgrims, George...W....Ratbastard. Feels good to say it, doesn't it? George...W....Ratbastard... 6:46:36 AM    comment []

THE LAST QUESTION ON THE QUIZ MEME: ANY COOL SCARS? I would have "cool" scars, except that I heal too well. I always wanted scars when I was a crazy little kid, and I got them—I just didn't get to keep them. I haven't acquired any significant scars since I started taking lithium and started living a less...chaotic, more settled existence. I wanted to write a copiusly illustrated essay called The History of My Scars, but alas I cannot present my bona fides—the old scars have faded. The scar on the heel of my right hand thumb I got when I put my hand through a window has faded to the point that it can't be distinguished from a crease. Twenty stitches that was. The scar on my left thumb that I sliced open so that it looked like a little taco is more visible:   But I can't get a really decent picture of it even using the macro setting on my digital camera. Ditto for the scars on my knuckles: I have found that if you punch an obnoxious drunk in the mouth with sufficient force you will cut your knuckles on his teeth.  Even though the cut got infected, the scar is hard to see in a dpic. The puncture wounds on my leg from the dog bite have disapeared. Even the place on my forehead where the punk connected with his two-by-four no longer stands out the way it used to—All the stitches I had on the back of my head and even tho' I'm mostly bald now all I've got to show for it is a faint white criscross, and I have to use two mirrors to see it. I suppose I should be thankful my skin erases so completely the damage done it over the years, but those scars are the now faded mementos of my former life, life before lithium, when I was a wild manic depressive poet roaming free. Now I'm just an armchair maniac, for the most part. Faux Bourgeois married life its own dangers that keep me interested and on my toes. 1:32:40 AM    comment []