Roadnotes: Austin, TX

The cognitive dissonance has built up to the point that I'm INCREDIBLY disturbed by the amount of waste involved in travel. My plastic cup on the airplane is thrown in with metal cans and napkins. Wha? It'd be sweet if airlines could compost and recycle, like some businesses have started doing.

I put a "Do Not Disturb" sign on my door handle this morning, yet they STILL came in and changed out my towels, remade my bed, replaced some soap, etcetera. Waste!

It's awful. I'm out on the town of Austin tonight. Are you? Track me down. I'll be exploring 4th or 6th or 2nd. I forget which.

Inga: Would YOU Give Her the Keys to your Place?

What do you think?

Roadnotes: Vancouver, B.C.

The following is based on events that happened February 26 through the 28th.

I'm in Vancouver for work, so there is little funtimes to be had (although I do love my job). However, there is always time to eat (or else you die), so we walk for an endless amount of time to get to Vij's. Oh, so good!

The next day, Nuba is recommended as a lunch place, so we have ecstatically wonderful falafel.

That night, I keep waking up in the middle of the night and wondering how my farts can be so powerful that they break the blanket-seal and coat the room in a heady stench of post-cuisine. I'm flabbergasted, and nearly dying for fresh air, but too tired to care about whether I make it through the night.

Onward, to the paper cup shortage!

You may have heard: there is a bit of an oil shortage.

But see, oil is just the tip of the iceberg!

Jonathan Evison is stalking me

Seriously, this guy is everywhere.

First, I noticed him reading at the same reading where I was reading (the latest KNOCK release party). There, he walked up to me* and said, "Hi." The nerve!

Then, "somehow" he wound up on the same plane as me when I traveled over Christmas. (Incidentally, he made me** have lunch with him during the layover in Texas).

Finally, the other day I went to a party and he showed up wearing red pajamas (backward). I swear -- I had a picture of this but I'm currently unable to find it.

And now, just hours ago, he wrote me some cryptic message about an excerpt of All About Lulu, his new book, and mentioned that his book is now available for pre-order or something.

And I swear, he is ALWAYS on MySpace! Test me on this -- send him a message and see how quickly he replies to you. It's eery!





* By "walked up to me" I mean he happened to look over at me from where he was leaning on the bar.

** By "made me" I mean I begged him to let me sit at his table.

How Bad Writing Contributes to the Downfall of Civilization

1. Bad writing tells people what is going on, as opposed to letting readers think for themselves.*

2. Dictative language trains people to avoid thinking.

3. People that don't think become comfortable not thinking.

4. People that become comfortable not thinking begin to fear language that makes them think.

5. Thus, civilization is handed over to dumbshits.




*Example: "Sophia felt afraid" is the author dictating what you are "supposed to" accept: that Sophia is afraid. A good writer lets you decide for yourself. I think Sophia is ready to reclaim lost ground.