Fsh!

I hate Texas

By Pixel at July 3, 2007 at 5:44 pm. Filed in Uncategorized

I live in the only place nearby where it is legal to blow up fireworks. As a result, everyone and their colicky step child heads over here for Independence Day.

For the past week, fireworks have tapered my evening strolls and they’re only going to get worse. Tomorrow is the Fourth of July. Tomorrow is the day when all of the firefighters in the area man keep their buttcheeks clenched in hopes of a really big fire to battle.

See, New Mexico is a desert. In deserts, contrary to popular belief, there is a lot of vegetation. That vegetation has evolved to withstand long periods of drought. Thus, the area is a deadly yellow color for the 80 percent of the year when it doesn’t rain. This, without the touch of man, would be perfectly acceptable, as the desert can just spring right back up to life with one rain cloud (it’s really remarkable, actually).

With the touch of man, however, the desert is just so many matchstick heads waiting to ignite. Enter July 4. Enter half a million Texans who care far more about seeing cool explosions than whether or not my hometown burns to the ground.

Tomorrow, like every year, the Chaparral Volunteer Fire Department will have a group lunch, then spend the night patrolling the area. Tomorrow, like every year, a fat Texan child is going to clap his hands at the various Mr. W fireworks. Tomorrow, like ever year, I’m going to stay inside and try to sleep.

Francis Scott Key was right: it’s hard to sleep when there’s rockets bursting in air, you might as well write a poem.


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ALIENS!!!

By Pixel at July 3, 2007 at 12:08 pm. Filed in arbitrary, idea!

I figured out the secret to world peace. You’ve probably guessed it from the title of this post, but that won’t stop me from going on and on about how I came to this realization. The short version: I didn’t.

My friend Frank (mentioned here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here and here) noticed that his father only truly hit rock bottom after his divorce and when his kids grew up. Frank’s diagnosis: his father didn’t have a goal anymore.

Remember the beauty that was the cold war? Remember when growing up was fun? Sure, I’m glossing over the mortal terror at the possibility of an all-engulfing nuclear holocaust at any moment, but there was at least something that united the country. And sure, I’m glossing over the fact that the worst atrocities and invasions of sovereignty were initiated in that period, but my point remains: we had a unified goal and a unified purpose. Nothing exemplified that better than when Neil Armstrong landed on the moon.

We can have those days back. Actually, we can have better days.

Please follow my train of thought below the fold.

Continue reading ALIENS!!!…


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