I'm on vacation, but still I get up at 7 a.m. to do work. There's something a little off about this picture, but it's still refreshing to get away from the midwest for a few days. Turns out there are these things called "hills" and "mountains" out west. Who would have known? Later in the week, Special Gentleman Friend and I are going to a spa for a detoxifying enyzme bath. This was his suggestion, not mine — in case you were wondering whether I am the kind of lady who drags her SGF to frou-frou places like spas. I'm not. I sweat at spas and salons. Everything's hip or serene (or both) and I start to worry that I'll knock something over. Or that I'm not tipping enough people. Or that they'll over-pluck my eyebrows, leaving me looking like Marlene Dietrich after a tussle with an eyebrow pencil. I'm still looking forward to the spa adventure, though.
In less frivolous news, I'm reading Paul Krugman's book The Great Unraveling, and it's good stuff. He mentions some early writing by Henry Kissinger, in which Ol' Gravel-Throat argues that revolutionary thinkers rise to power in part because non-revolutionaries assume that their ideas are so radical that the revolutionaries can't possibly mean them. All the while, the revolutionary force very much means to put their ideology into power, and they do so because most people simply can't fathom the thought that they'd actually go through with such wild plans. Kissinger's paper discusses the rise of fascism in the 1930s, and Krugman is quick to point out that drawing parallels does not mean moral relativism. But the basic idea is still worth applying to our current political situation, I think.
By the way, if you can't get enough Krugman, pick up the new issue of Venus. I wrote a piece in there about Krugman and why he's so h-o-t. Much to my embarrassment, however, his photo is next to a vibrator review. When I saw the layout, my face became a tomato, and then I started to sweat and stutter. The grand finale of this embarrassing discovery? I dizzily walked into a bicycle, knocking it over and nearly maiming two of the editorial interns. So now I have to write a letter to Krugman, saying, "I feel really, really awkward and apologetic because your photo is next to a flower-shaped vibrator."
Finally: They're calling 70-year-old veterans to go to war.
In less frivolous news, I'm reading Paul Krugman's book The Great Unraveling, and it's good stuff. He mentions some early writing by Henry Kissinger, in which Ol' Gravel-Throat argues that revolutionary thinkers rise to power in part because non-revolutionaries assume that their ideas are so radical that the revolutionaries can't possibly mean them. All the while, the revolutionary force very much means to put their ideology into power, and they do so because most people simply can't fathom the thought that they'd actually go through with such wild plans. Kissinger's paper discusses the rise of fascism in the 1930s, and Krugman is quick to point out that drawing parallels does not mean moral relativism. But the basic idea is still worth applying to our current political situation, I think.
By the way, if you can't get enough Krugman, pick up the new issue of Venus. I wrote a piece in there about Krugman and why he's so h-o-t. Much to my embarrassment, however, his photo is next to a vibrator review. When I saw the layout, my face became a tomato, and then I started to sweat and stutter. The grand finale of this embarrassing discovery? I dizzily walked into a bicycle, knocking it over and nearly maiming two of the editorial interns. So now I have to write a letter to Krugman, saying, "I feel really, really awkward and apologetic because your photo is next to a flower-shaped vibrator."
Finally: They're calling 70-year-old veterans to go to war.
Labels: Paul Krugman
