"Ignatius, what's all this trash on the floor?"
"That is my worldview that you see. It still must be incorporated into a whole, so be careful where you step." -JK Toole

I have too weak a memory to discuss what happened in 2001. Looking at "2001" calls to mind the famous Stanley Kubrick film, which started out making sense but degenerated into a confusing, alarming mess: much as the year did, we might agree. So it turns out Kubrick really could perceive the future, at least partly; but to perceive the past, which 2001 has become, I have to call upon a different confusing and alarming mess: the string of ASCII I laid down over that year, some of which follows.

*** Humorously-Insufferably-Nonsensical ***

I don't think you should be at work today. Today is a day when you should be outside to relish the clouds, the chilly breeze, and the simpering dampness. It is a day to wander the streets with your hands in your pockets and your face bowed down in introspection, fretting, grief -- or perhaps introspective, fretting grief. It is a day to lull the pigeons into your vicinity and give them a solid kick in the tailfeathers, then giggle at their terror.

My son likes to repeat the phrase "the good dinosaurs and the bad dinosaurs" or "the bad dinosaurs push/bite the good dinosaurs." I've been in ruts like that, and they never fail to end in a vast field of cornstocks, wet and cold and dirty, the combine's merciless blades closing in.

*** Homebody-with-Screwy-Family ***

R & T -

Greetings and good morning!

I received the famous letter from [sister #1] on Saturday. To no one's surprise, it repeats the same line of crap she has been issuing since at least 1967: I have been ill-served by the low expectations imposed by those around me, I have lived to please others instead of myself, the world is a wide-ranging conspiracy to bring me down, yadda-yadda-yadda, blah-blah-blah. Except for the innovation of the secret DEA agent plotline, it might as well have been written, word for word, in 1981 or 1991 as oppposed to 2001. I have drafted an appropriately angry reply and will send something her way within the next few days (on the assumption that the return address on the envelope will actually reach her).

As far as I am concerned, you would be perfectly justified in hanging up the phone if/when [sister #1] calls. This is well beyond tiresome, and guilt should no longer compel us to put up with this. Why keep playing a broken record? Her next stop should be serious, intensive, *professional* help, in whatever form she can get it.

All of this is offered "for what it is worth," and "one man's opinion" and so forth. You are 100% free to draw your own conclusions.

What other news I have is of the domestic-dull variety. The house we bought last fall came attached to a rather unfortunate mailbox, one with duck decals plastered across the side. They're classy enough ducks -- mallards in flight, nothing too cartoonish nor too grotesque -- but when combined with the rusty iron post on which the mailbox is mounted, it has never made the curbside mailing statement we would want to make. Under the clearing skies of Spring I set out yesterday to replace that ducky, rusty mailbox with one more to our liking, a sleek, no-nonsense black box with a corresponding no-frills mounting pole, all of it less than $20 total. First order of business: uproot and discard the ducky-rusty. Easy enough, right? Well, no. Noting the wet ground, I first thought I could simply rock it back and forth in the loose soil and pry it out by hand. This did not work. I got a hoe and tried using the handle as a lever to pry ducky-rusty out of the ground. This almost snapped the hoe in two -- a result that would not be altogether unwelcome, perhaps, but not the idea here -- so this became failure number two. Doubts were increasing by now, but I had one higher level of destructive tool, my gorilla bar, 20" of dense steel that practically vibrates with destructive power. Shockingly, this proved no more successful. It became clear that the post on which ducky rests had been intended not only to lift ducky to a mailman-ergonomic height but to moor large vessels in the nearby Columbia river, and indeed, some poking around confirmed that rusty was anchored in a huge concrete mass resting a few inches beneath the soil. Rusty will never leave there, I concluded; Rusty is eternal.

Of course, I could dig the whole mess out, or I could stress the truck's towing package, or I could carry out any of a few other more elaborate schemes, but that would be mere pride. I have decided that Rusty will stay, on condition of a new coat of weatherproofing paint, and will support the new mailbox. The new pole will be tucked into a far corner of the garage for unspecified "possible future use." Ducky is only a few rusty nuts away from oblivion, however, and there my confidence is strong.

Love,

*** Cranky-at-Work ***

When you spend as much time in bed doing nothing as I do, you would see the value in a good bed.

Cuz is a lousy reason to spend the time and money on getting an MBA. To me, and this is just my f**king opinion, an MBA is the equivalent of fraternity association. Instead of "Dude" you say "ROI," instead of "party" you say "synergy." I don't think anyone learns anything of value from an MBA they couldn't learn through working their way up the ranks. In fact, the absence of practicle experience really shines through when the MBA is used as the method for evaluating someone's worth in the management ranks and not their ability to function in the real world. Business strikes me as the place that, more than most any other, experience is substance and the "education" is fluff. Needless to say, I am not very fond of the idea of "Business School." Of my many, many regrets, majoring in business is one of my biggest. I will say no more on the subject.

Didn't Bush get his MBA?

I used to enjoy lifting weights but then I realized I no longer did. What changed it was the day the connector gave out and the bar fell down, crushing my larynx. The Peter Brady crackle in my voice is the lasting legacy of that dark day; my voice used to be suited for radio, and I was on track to replace that dead guy as the voice of the Cubs. I would have had a different pretty lady every night, win or lose, so you can understand my bitterness when it comes to weights.

If things go according to plan, I wouldn't spend any money on the MBA. [Employer] would pay for it. Let me say I think the MBA is the most intellectually vacant of any postgraduate designation I can think of, and I can think of many. I have few illusions about it, but I will give it a trial and go from there.

Anyhoo, Mr. Back Problems, the >35" TV you want will doom your back beyond any bed's ability to fix. So you're going to have to buy those in tandem, which just buries you all the deeper in your misery. Throw in the wheelchair you're going to need, and we are even deeper -- six feet under, perhaps.

DVD players are the DAT of the present day. Remember when those idiotic DAT tapes were going to replace CD's? You don't? That is exactly my point.

The problem with your ridiculously misguided logic was the linear relationship of the events and not the distinctions between the two technologies. Boy, you MBA types.

With a big ass tv, I will spend time watching tie bow (sp?) and then I will be svelte and women will want me like never before. The only reason I don't watch it on the smaller tv is that he is too small to really see what he is doing. You don't buy that? [Wife] doesn't either but that won't stop me from using that rationale.

Look, MerryLegs, CD's replaced cassettes only for the super-rich who can afford a CD player in their cars, and whose super-rich status gives them many pleasures to distract them from the pain of hearing their favorite music skip as they drive. That kind of crap is not for salt-of-the-earth drones like myself; a cassette tape player in my crude truck is all I need. Likewise, I don't want to see my favorite movies skip every time I hit a pothole.

What does [your wife] possibly have to do with your TV purchase? I say, save your pennies and buy it without her. Thereafter, when she tries to watch it, squirt bleach in her eyes.

You need to see what Billy Tae Bo is doing? He's jumping around whilst air-boxing, that's what he's doing. Duh.

**** Politics *****

Hypothetically, let's say a technique emerges that can take stem cells and turn them into kidneys. Just kidneys. Further suppose that little Johnny will die unless doctors can replace his faltering kidneys with one of these lab-grown kidneys. What do you do, Cowboy?

Do the words of the Declaration of Independence apply to the kidneys? Are they "endowed by their creator" with "inalienable rights"? If so, what would "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness" mean to a set of lab-spawned kidneys?

What do you, a "conservative" who believes in the "strict construction" of the Bible and the US Constitution, have to say about this? What does the Bible say about it? What does the US Constitution say about it?

Where did these stem cells come from? Are they from aborted babies, lab grown embroyonic human beings that are being harvested for the benefit of others, adult stem cells, or adult fat cells (btw, I am sure I have pointed out the much greater success rate of growing body parts or replacing damaged cells using adult fat cells). The bottom line is that the case of the first 2 sources, the ends does not justify the means. The stem cells that later turned into kidneys for the poor child originated in another human's body, albeit at an earlier stage of human development, whose life was not taken into consideration. In the case of the other 2 sources I see no problems.

Obviously there is nothing in the Bible that discusses these issues. I am not a theologian or a Christian Fundamentalist(I do not take every word in The Bible literally). Nevertheless, the Church I adhere to has written extensively on these issues. El Papa (as he is referred to in Spanish speaking countries) is an extremely intelligent, as well as moral, man. I have a tendacity to defer to his insight on these matters.

The Constitution speaks clears of the right to life. This does not entail at the expense of or through the use of others. If that was the case I could kill anyone if it meant extending my life.

The bottom line for me is that human life begins at conception, whether it be in the womb or tube or dish. It is not potential life(what a novel and stupid concept if you ask me), it is life. It should not be used for the benefit of others. It has a right to live. So it should not be used to create kidneys for someone else. The kidneys aren't the issue; the fact that life was created and destroyed to make those kidneys is the problem.

I don't see the big difference in the origin of the stem cells among the following:
a) Someone's cells (of whatever sort, e.g., fatty cells, stem cells, hair follicles, butt scrapings) where the someone specified himself as an organ donor. I, for one, would gladly shed some DNA samples for the purpose to "harvesting" body parts for the future benefit of myself or others. That's not to say I necessarily have that right, or should.
b) A stillborn child (natural causes, let's say) whose parents signed a waiver allowing for the stem cells to be used for research. c) A set of stem cells derived from the placenta after a normal birth. We had an opportunity to preserve the placenta after my son was born, over 2-1/2 years ago. This was routine even then. This is offered because it is recognized that advancements will take place in how these cells can be used -- including uses we would unhesitantly call "harvesting."

Of the above, category a) is the closest approximation of where we got the Bush-approved "lines" of stem cells. Do you disagree with our judicially-installed President? (Just to reassure you -- it's OK to disagree with the judicially-installed President, even during times of war.)

The Constitution is far from clear on a "right" to "life." Perhaps you are thinking of the Declaration of Independence, in which the phrase "right to life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness" appears. As for that, are you seriously suggesting 1) that the Declaration of Independence is law and 2) that its writers intended to be addressing euthenasia, abortion, the death penalty, and like matters when using that phrase?

This is very unconvincing. We routinely must make judgments about who shall live and who shall not, who is "deserving" and who is not. To speak of an unqualified "right to life" is as sloppy and wreckless a feat of moral equivalence as I can imagine. It seems to me we *must* draw intelligent and subtle distinctions between and among you, me, a kidney synthesized in a lab, Osama Bin Laden, Jeffrey Dahmer, the remains of Abe Lincoln, Charlton Heston, Saddam Hussein, and Granny. Do I have a nice handout or slide-rule that will give you all those distinctions? Hardly.

<<The bottom line for me is that human life begins at conception, whether it be in the womb or tube or dish.>> Fine. When was the moment of conception for Dolly the sheep? As cloning technology progresses and becomes routine -- and it will, whether you want it to or not -- it erases these tidy categories and the blurring sets in. We may live to see and speak with human beings that did not arise from a meeting of sperm and egg. What do we say of these people?

Indeed, if we take your beginning-of-human-life theory seriously, it compels us to deny the humanity of cloned human beings, since there was no moment of conception. Here come the extermination camps! Just like the Nazis! No?

You've all but admitted -- as I think you must -- that two key sources of authority, the Bible and the US Constitution, are silent on these matters. That leaves human judgment. As far as that goes, the Pope is just another human.

***** Chatting about school *****

<<you have a take home, open book business law final? how hard can that be?>>
Correction: I HAD one, but then I finished it and turned it in. It would have been difficult without the book, but it took more time with the book because I had to look things up. And one or two of the thingies on the test were not in the book, requiring actual thought. Ouch! I want to wag a disappointed finger at the professor and chide, "look here, mister, I didn't enroll in an MBA program to think."

Your plan to print out and burn your novel has advantages and disadvantages. This time of year, heat from a thick stack of burning paper can be helpful toward maintaining warmth -- something your body needs anyway, like Tums. However, under certain circumstances, fires can be very destructive. There are stories of entire buildings, even entire towns, being destroyed by fire. I am not one to spread urban legends, but this one is so grave that I felt compelled to pass it along.

<<i'm not sure what the label is for my neurosis, but there's got to be one.>>
Have you tried the healing power of prayer? How about scented candles? Entrails? What about throwing yourself into the effort to resurrect the mastodons using advanced genetic engineering?

**** Dispensing Indispensible Life Advice *****

<<i am thinking of buying a house. do you recommend for or against it, or ... do you simply not give a damn one way or the other?>>
Since you asked, on the subject of giving a shit, let me state that I do not care for this or anything else. I am a spiritless, emotionless meat-bot blindly and meekly and insensibly feeling my way toward an inevitable doom. That having been said, yes, I think you should buy a house. Financially speaking, it's about the best thing "normal" people can do to help themselves -- "normal" indicating nothing more than the need to work for a living. Of course, owning a house is also a financial burden, but in the long run, it is more beneficial than not. I recommend a house that doesn't cost much, requires little maintenance, gives you plenty of room (for now and the foreseeable future), promises to appreciate in value quickly, exists in a conveniently-located neighborhood peopled with classy, cool, stable, and generous neighbors, and can easily withstand whatever the weather patterns, techtonic plates, and Al-Qaeda network can throw at it.

Happy 2002! My mom's 2-year deathiversary is coming on 1/9. Or is it 1/10? No one will ever know for sure.

I believe in keeping my distance from pate. Yuck.