sturtle [dot] com

A WEEK OF REVELATIONS (AND TIME-WASTING)

• I have come to accept the fact that the brain–at least my brain–functions in strange and mysterious ways. Lately, I’ve been suffering from two afflictions: (1) talking to myself in French (like I used to do in high school), and (2) blurting out random Google search phrases. Item #1 isn’t much of a problem–hell, it keeps me mildly fluent in a foreign tongue–but item #2 is annoying and potentially awkward. So far, it’s only been noticed by Jonno; he’ll ask me something innocuous like, “What do you want to do for dinner?”, and I’ll reply “vagina handbag Montessori”. Which is fine around him, but it might make my coworkers raise an eyebrow. Or two.

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• The New York Times says that the Times-Picayune is reviewing New Orleans-area restaurants again, for the first time since the storm. Which is something I wouldn’t have ordinarily noticed, since I don’t subscribe to the Picayune and since its online version makes my eyes bleed. Still, you have to wonder: if the paper is going to relaunch its reviews, and if New Orleans has more restaurants now than before Katrina, why the hell would the Picayune wanna review an eatery that’s been around for decades–much less one as dull and snoozy as Mr. B’s? Srsly.

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• Apparently, we have manatees. Watch out.

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• I am vaguely obsessed with the politically incorrect, evil genius-style flash game Pandemic 2. Who knew spreading death and disease would be so complicated? The Old Testament makes it seem like a breeze.

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• There’s something about the McCain campaign’s new look that feels an awful lot like an ad for Shoney’s breakfast buffet. Or possibly an Andrews Sisters tribute show. In either case: ooooold. McCain might wanna get that bullet wound in his foot checked out.

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• Although I’m wary of McCain, that doesn’t mean I’m 100% ready to spread for Obama–at least, not without some cautious, probing foreplay. In fact, I find anti-Obama literature really interesting. He’s getting a lot of good coverage these days, and it’s nice to be reminded that he’s not a messiah, but a politician. Keeps things in check, I think.

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• Our house is no stranger to Lady Tyra von Fullofherself and the gloriously tragic America’s Next Top Model (which, for those keeping score, has produced no top models in America or elsewhere). However, I hope that Jonno and I stay mostly oblivious to the train-wrecky allure of Britain’s Missing Top Model, ’cause it’s, um, kinda dull and futup:

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• I’m cautiously optimistic about the potential repeal of “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell”. Hell, even the National Review is hating on the policy–and not because they want to make the ban on GI homos stronger. It appears that they’ve finally come around to the notion that a devoted, smart, hard-working gay man or lesbian is probably a better asset to the military than a heterosexual, alimony-dodging felon. The wonders, they are not ceasing.

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• I’m also happy about the semantic change on the California ballot for Prop 8. It now reads:

  ELIMINATES RIGHT OF SAME-SEX COUPLES TO MARRY.

  INITIATIVE CONSTITUTIONAL AMENDMENT

  Changes California Constitution to eliminate right of same-sex couples to marry. Provides that only a marriage between a man and a woman is valid or recognized in California.

  Fiscal Impact: Over the next few years, potential revenue loss, mainly sales taxes, totaling in the several tens of millions of dollars, to state and local governments. In the long run, likely little fiscal impact to state and local governments.

  Although I have some issues with that last fragmentary sentence (a PDF of the whole document can be found here), I’m gonna let it slide. Go Team Gay!