Ride My See-Saw

Still in the deep recesses of this quick-turn-around tome, with even deeper levels just ahead. I'd forgotten just how heavy a book-in-progress feels, though this is nothing compared to "Mr. Mike." That was competitive weightlifting in the middle of a demolition derby while the crowd threw bottles and D-batteries at my head. I came very close to writing Phil Hartman's bio, and had feelers for one about Chris Farley, but neither happened and I'm happy for that. Imagine the fun writing about those two performers' final hours!

I woke very early this morning from my typical weirdo dreams that would make David Chase blush with timidity, and scanned several lefty and righty blogs and sites that I normally never visit. I won't identify the people and places involved, simply because I lack the energy to do a lot of linking, but man, what a depressing gamut of opinions and intelligence that's out there. Some of these people are certifiable, a few of whom you've probably read or are familiar with. Not me, not with any regularity, that is. And the comments! So much barely-repressed anger, so many full-blown fantasies of violence and revenge for whatever slight, ideological failing, or thought crime -- I confess I was sucked in by it all. It fascinates and sickens me, and serves as a reminder of just how fucking crazy people can be, especially when their politics are based on stereotypes, not only of themselves but of The Enemy. Simulacrum Nuremberg rallies for the enraged disconnected. I like to humor myself by believing that many of these anonymous lunatics are intentional parodies, that no one can be that psychotic.

Hoo ha. Joke's on me.

So, what have we learned from this post? That sleep-deprived web surfing in the early hours is not a healthy pastime? That we in America are so depoliticized and powerless that we have to invent our own political realities and identities online? Beats me. It's noon as I type this, and already I'm thinking of having a stiff drink and blasting The Moody Blues from my speakers -- their early faster stuff, I mean.