I'm fond of saying that I don't hate people, and I think that's generally true. I don't see any value in revenge, or even punishment. I don't hold a grudge. I have fond feelings for all my exes, even the ones that are fairly widely agreed upon as abusive assholes. I do my best to see things from the other side, often to my own detriment. However, I've come to the conclusion that I don't hold myself to the same standards of forgiveness and reason where celebrities and scientists are involved. I do hate a few people. I hate them enough that when someone else speaks well of them, I automatically think less of them. I hate them, and they have no way of knowing it, so it doesn't hurt anyone but me. I'm sort of fascinated by it, and I'm interested in finding ways to stop.

I have no emotional urge to understand or forgive the following people:
Dan Savage
J Michael Bailey
Stuart Brody
Simon Baron-Cohen
and I'm starting to get there for Stephen Pinker... but I'm not there yet, and I'd like to stop.

Note, I don't have the same reaction to:
Fred Phelps
Rush Limbaugh
Anne Coulter

edit: the reason I don't have this reaction to the second list is because I've never met anyone who claims to agree with me who then supports one of those people.

Terry Pratchett announces he has early-onset Alzheimer's. I am not okay with this, not even a little. Pratchett is keeping a good attitude about it, at least: "I think there's time for at least a few more books yet." (Of course, I'm not satisfied with this. He needs to produce at least two books a year until I die. I command it.) Terry Pratchett's brain can not rot out. Also, Neil Gaiman is never allowed to lose his hair. Or his brain. But also his hair.

In the post-script to his announcement, Pratchett says "I know it's a very human thing to say "Is there anything I can do", but in this case I would only entertain offers from very high-end experts in brain chemistry." Note to self: Study harder.

I do tend to read my webcomics in fits and spurts. I like having several of them to read at a time.
Poll #711641
Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 16

First, read this. Then, answer this:

I think I am the world's only former pagan agnostic. earthmystic is the first hit if you search for "former pagan," but he abandoned paganism in favor of another belief system (Catholicism) and was raised Episcopalian, so it really feels to me like Paganism was a step on his path.

I can't be the only one, but it really feels that way. I can't consider myself pagan, because that suggests a belief system. I barely have a skepticism system. I was raised in a pagan household. When Existential Doubt creeps in and I need religion, I usually go with some version of Pagan-system, but that's happening less and less. I'm really not a pagan. I can't have been the only person in my generation raised in paganism; there were too many hippies for me to be the only one. I can't be the only one to have rejected it as a worldview.

Some days I feel very alone. The atheists/agnostics are so judeochristian. The pagans are spirituo-religious in a way that makes me very uncomfortable. Faith in general makes me very uncomfortable. Even/especially my own.

As long as I'm pissing people off, I also tend to get antsy when people talk about being more politically radical or why genderdeviants need to throw off the shackles of binary oppression or how creative people are so special and unique or about art and beauty or romance or love or almost anything people get passionate about. Passion feels a lot like faith, and as such, makes my skin crawl, just a little. I distrust passion.

[edit1: while sitting here thinking about this, a spam popped up in my work inbox titled "sabotage cynic" -- I feel like that could be my nickname...]

[edit2: I dunno if I've mentioned this before, but I consider my "official" denomination to be "Secular Hedonist"]

Your armchair psychology doesn't fool me. Fuck you.

Why the hell do I keep looking? I'm rewriting my memories so I can live with them, so why should I care if he is, too. I keep trying to be honest with myself, but I'm no damn good at it. I'm much better at recreating the past and then separating myself from everyone who could contradict me.

Shit. Maybe he's right.

Still. Pretty fucking funny that he skated "this close" to calling me a father figure, eh?

Nothing in particular is upsetting me, but I'm being really bitchy and on edge, and I can't tell why. I almost started crying twice on the way up here, I was less than effusive about my stocking gifts, and now I have been hiding in the internet for the last hour. I don't like this side of me.

hrm. Perhaps I should try and interact with my family, instead of processing on the internet. But I am afraid I will be mean. grr.

Why am I so damn bitter?

[rescued from Internet Wayback Machine on 8/10/2007]

Let's go Huskies. Let's go
Let's go Huskies. Let's go.
I love corporate America.

I especially love my alma mater which, as luck would have it, is the major client my company is dealing with this week. I'm told that if we play this one deal right, the university I attended will become a major cash cow for us.

hip. hip. hooray.

You see, I work for a company that provides lighting and sound reinforcement for corporate parties. My job is to provide the skilled and occasionally diva-esque technicians that make all of this highly complicated bleeping and blooping, flashing and strobing, twisting and flying crap keep working for just two more hours. And if you ask them about it, it sounds even more thrilling than that. I know. I did that for a living until two weeks ago.

We're pretty good at it, all things considered. So when somebody goes to "the President's semi-annual gala ball and turkey toss," it's just as perfect as their prom would have been if they hadn't been ugly. Or something. So they hire us to do their next function, and next thing you know, I'm trying to find eight freelancers who all book two months in advance on 5 days notice.

Of course, it doesn't matter at all to me that the event is a celebration of cooperative education, a program that completely failed to meet any of its claims in terms of my own education, but did assure that I spent an extra year's money of my undergraduate degree. I especially love the part in interview after interview where I explain that "no, it's SUPPOSED to take you five years."

But I did get the real-world experience to leave college with a resume. My cooperative education advisor gave me all kinds of helpful advice. She had me audition for the Boston Tea Party Ship. "Costumed Historian." Ooh. She even once suggested I get a job in a movie theatre to get familiar with the workings of the film industry. Really.

So I'm definitely glad that I get to play a pivotal role in the re-launch of this ground-breaking method of education. I'm glad to know that my hard work will help my alma mater get the grant money it so richly deserves. If the crew I put together can't work effectively as a team, the Education Celebration will be sloppy and boring. It's a good thing that technical prima donnas always get along, isn't it.

Let's go Huskies.