Grease and Magic

Of course, now that I'm about to move, a "Five Guys Burgers and Fries" has opened up not far from my (current) residence.  Fortunately, the franchise is located along the road between my workplace and my future residence, so all is still semi-right with the world.  The burgers are disturbingly tasty for a fast-food joint.  What I like about the chain is the quirky fact that it offers free peanuts to nosh on while you wait; so, y'know, if your inevitable coronary doesn't kill you, your allergies will.

Here's the thing, though: The peanuts are still in their shells, right?  But they're salted!  How the hell do they do that?  What sort of Monsanto-worthy genetic manipulation is this?  If science has advanced to the point where we can grow salted peanuts, can a cure for cancer be far behind?

Movin' On

Solipsist Central will be relocating over the next few weeks, so the publication schedule may be a bit. . . erratic.  I plan to continue trying to post every day, but the posts may tend toward the brief, not to say terse, 'cause no one says "terse" in this day and age--sounds like the way Archie Bunker would pronounce "toys" or something--  Where was I?  Oh, yeah, so anyway, I'll try to keep up my steady flow of banter, but no promises.

Today, I had to go get our water service hooked up.  Really makes one nostalgic for New York City, I can tell you.  Do you know that New York City residents don't pay for water?  I mean, I suppose they do in the form of taxes and increased fees for parboiled "hot dogs," but no one gets an actual water bill.  Garbage pickup, too, is incorporated into the fabric of city life without involving extra payments from the local residents.  Thank you, Gambino crime family!

That was quite a culture shock when I moved out to California.  Water bills?  Garbage bills?  Doesn't that stuff just, y'know, happen?!?

Marriage Is Marriage Until It Isn't, and That's OK, Too

As the Supreme Court ponders arguments for and against the legalization of same-sex marriage, the justices inevitably wrestle with the legacy of Roe v. Wade.  In retrospect, that landmark case, far from settling a contentious social argument, inflamed the situation.  In the 40 years since abortion became a constitutional "right," those on either side of the debate have only hardened their stances rather than finding common ground.  Indeed, just the other day, lawmakers in North Dakota passed legislation that would effectively outlaw abortion in the state, openly challenging established law and essentially defying the Supreme Court.  The current justices are presumably leery about the prospect of launching another 40 year crusade, this time against gay marriage.

I don't think the Court needs to worry about that much.  Certainly there are people who feel passionately that marriage is a strictly heterosexual institution, but I doubt that a decision in favor of same-sex marriage would lead to the sort of never-ending, take-no-prisoners battle that commenced in the wake of Roe v. Wade.  For one thing, even if one truly feels that same-sex marriage is wrong, it is, at worst, a victimless "crime": Scaremongers howl that gay marriage somehow "threatens" the institution of marriage yet cannot offer any plausible evidence for their claim.  As far as I can see, their arguments boil down to linguistic tautology: Changing the definition of marriage harms marriage because it changes the way "marriage" is defined.  Unless a change of definition is inherently harmful, though, this argument is meaningless.

Definitions change constantly,  I suspect in the future we will lament the changed definition of marriage about as much as, say, Clarence Thomas laments the change in the definition of a black person from three-fifths of a human being.  Some will protest after same-sex marriage is legalized, but they will soon realize that their lives have changed not at all, while the lives of their gay friends and loved ones--and everybody has 'em--have changed for the better.  Just wait and see.

Deep, Profound Musical Criticism

While exercising today, I was surprised when my music shuffled to "Paperback Writer" by the Beatles.  I noticed that during the third verse, while the lead vocals are going, "It's a thousand pages / Give or take a few / I'll be writing more in a week or two.. . ," the background harmonizers seem to be singing "Frere Jacques."  I had never noticed that before.  Now, I cannot unnotice it, and somebody has some 'splainin' to do, I'm looking at YOU, Ringo Starr.

All in Favor of Equality

Over the last couple of days, Facebook has turned a bright shade of red, as countless people (many friends of Solipsist included) have changed their profile pictures to a red "equal" sign.  Someone somewhere decided that this symbol would indicate support for same-sex marriage and express one's hope that the Supreme Court decide in favor of those seeking to overturn once and for all California's Proposition 8, which outlawed such unions.

Now, I know how much Supreme Court justices are influenced by social-networking memes, particularly those involving gay marriage or kittens.  I have nevertheless not updated my profile picture.  I would like to take this opportunity to assure my legions of followers that this in no way indicates disapproval of same-sex marriage, something I fully support; it simply indicates utter laziness.

Hope that clears everything up.

Here at the Solipsist, Every Day is Airlock Day!

Spring break arrived earlier than usual this year.  Generally, it either begins or ends on Easter Sunday.  Indeed, as a Jew, I usually only know it is Easter Sunday because I am beginning or ending a vacation--that and the fact that the Times will be disturbingly thin.  Yesterday, though, the Times possessed its normal Sunday girth, as it was merely Palm Sunday.  I don't know what Palm Sunday is, but I understand it has something to do with Jesus and Easter--or Jeaster, as we call it in my head.  And today I had to return to work from spring break with nary a day off to look forward to betwixt now and Memorial Day.

The first day back after a vacation is pretty much a waste.  By the time you've wrapped your mind around the fact that you're back at work and sifted aimlessly through your inbox trying desperately to remember what it was you were working on back before the vacation, it's pretty much time to go home.  It's not quite as bad as returning to work after a prolonged illness: At least after a vacation, everybody is in the same transitional headspace.  Still, I think all employers should recognize this phenomenon and enshrine it in their official workplace procedures: Call it "Airlock Day," an official day to reacclimate oneself to the daily grind, when nothing much will be expected of anybody.

In Case You Missed It

Yesterday afternoon, Academy Award-winning actress Tilda Swinton spent several hours encased in a glass box at New York's Museum of Modern Art as part of a piece called "The Maybe."  In an unrelated story, yesterday evening Tilda Swinton's agent was fired.