Eccentric Flower:199904/smut shootings sunscreen stepfather
From Eccentric Flower
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april twenty-first (slightly) smut, shootings, sunscreen, stepfather The short postcard was because I had to test Heliotrope a second time. I don't understand how something could work right on an identical test clone of the Bayou and not work right on the live version, but I'll work out the details later. You're not going to get the long postcard I promised, though, because I spent my writing time this evening writing the F story for twenty-six instead. At last. It's pretty good for something that you're seeing straight out of my brain. I had discarded all my other ideas and had no idea what I was going to do with this. I sat down at ten-thirty and wrote it in one go. I only reread it for corrections once, so if you have a problem with it, do speak up. - - - I got a late start because, somewhat against my will, I had to watch the first few minutes of the Fox Ten O'Clock Body Count ("If it bleeds, it leads"). Boy, it's sad to see Tori Ryden trying to look somber and tragic when she's actually drooling over what a good lead story she has. Network news is a nest of leeches. The story, of course, is this shooting in Colorado. I got field reports earlier today - I happened to be on a MUCK while it was taking place, and one of my friends there lives not far from where it happened. Columbine High School - urgh. I should sue for defamation of character. Not that I don't think it's tragic, mind you, but I'm not a mourner by inclination, and I would rather try to get at some root causes than waste my time weeping over this senseless mess. Why did this happen? Ignore weapons accessibility here for a moment. Yes, I too am in favor of gun control but I believe that's a red herring in this case. The news this evening reported, in full panic-mongering mood, that "every school has one or two of these disaffected, alienated students." Well, duh. (In fact, Nonelvis and I said "Duh" - in unison.) High school is full of alienated kids. I was one. I might very well have fantasized about taking a high-powered rifle and shooting people a few times. I don't remember, but it doesn't seem unreasonable; only my senior year came close to being a pleasant experience. But I never did it. Why did they? What has caused this inability to distinguish fantasy from reality, or perhaps this loss of respect for life, or whatever it is that caused these people to cross the line into unacceptable territory? What have we lost? What have we forgotten? And how did we lose it? Before you go blaming violence in the media, let me say that I've heard that one before ... and I'll listen, but you'd better have a compelling case. The last time I heard that argument, it wasn't very good. - - - OK, I missed the joke. Don't blame me. I've never even heard the sunscreen song! It goes like this: The lyrics in the stupid "Sunscreen" song (I forget its actual title) are taken from a supposed commencement address given by Kurt Vonnegut. This turned out to be a hoax. The "Class of '99" net.humor I quoted a few paragraphs from, two postcards back, is a parody of that, and a pretty dead-on one. (The short paragraphs like "Fart" and "Burp" become more funny, I admit, when one realizes the original says things like "Sing" and "Floss.") My friend REM spotted this and pointed it out to me. Actually, he first thought I had stumbled onto a different parody of "Sunscreen," one that Bill Maher did. REM wonders what it says about his character that he likes all three versions. I wonder what it says about humanity that three versions of this stuff even exist. - - - I took a nap this afternoon and dreamed of my evil ex-stepfather. The last few times he's been in my dreams (I always remember, because when I realize it's him, I get agitated and wake up) he's actually been kind of benevolent. It's weird to have him appear in a dream and not be the villain. I wonder if my subconscious feels guilty about something?
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