I have no words.
But then again, neither does she.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
POWERTHIRST
My favorite part is the ENERGY LEGS.
If you don't think this is funny, you are not my friend.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Willard Suitcase Exhibit
In junior high and high school I babysat a lot. Do you know what my favorite part was? Aside from getting paid real cash money ($5/hour) for a new flannel shirt and a Pearl Jam tape?
No, my favorite part was not caring for the children. Don't be stupid.
It was snooping around the family's house and looking at all their pictures and peeking in the parents' bedroom and digging through their fridge and basically rifling through anything that wasn't nailed down. Don't worry; I wasn't going through their drawers or anything...I soothed my conscience by sticking (pretty much) to the the police definition of plain view: if it was out on the counter or on top of a dresser or I didn't have to open a drawer or a door to see it, it was fair game.
Blah blah, it's not nice to snoop through people's shit, blah. You know what? If you don't want someone else to see the contents of your bathroom drawer, don't invite a 13-year-old over to your house and then leave her there alone with your sleeping children for 6 hours with no cable TV. Dur.
Anyway, the truth is that I still love to snoop through other people's shit, but I can't, because I'm a grownup, and we have rules about that sort of thing. Unless you're at an estate sale (doesn't count when they're dead!) or you're touring an apartment you might rent (gotta see that closet space!). Or if you're going through the attic of the Willard Psychiatric Center (read: insane asylum) and you discover over 200 suitcases, filled with stuff, from patients who are long gone.
This is what happened in 1995 when the hospital closed and was being cleaned out. Since it's totes ok to look through people's shit once they're dead (see above), they made a museum exhibit about it!
I can't tell you how excited I would be to dig through 200 suitcases and put together the lives of their respective owners. Can you imagine? Love letters and diaries and baby pictures, oh my! Unfortunately for me, somebody already did the rifle-through-their-shit part. Fortunately for everyone, they put some of the interesting suitcases (and their owners) on the internet! Check it out here.
Oh yeah -- it's also kind of an awful reminder of how badly we used to (and still do) treat the mentally ill. Most of the suitcase-owners were institutionalized for 30 years or more, and most of them were not really ill to begin with. So it's sad! But also interesting! But really fucking depressing!
Which is just how I like it.
Enjoy.
No, my favorite part was not caring for the children. Don't be stupid.
It was snooping around the family's house and looking at all their pictures and peeking in the parents' bedroom and digging through their fridge and basically rifling through anything that wasn't nailed down. Don't worry; I wasn't going through their drawers or anything...I soothed my conscience by sticking (pretty much) to the the police definition of plain view: if it was out on the counter or on top of a dresser or I didn't have to open a drawer or a door to see it, it was fair game.
Blah blah, it's not nice to snoop through people's shit, blah. You know what? If you don't want someone else to see the contents of your bathroom drawer, don't invite a 13-year-old over to your house and then leave her there alone with your sleeping children for 6 hours with no cable TV. Dur.
Anyway, the truth is that I still love to snoop through other people's shit, but I can't, because I'm a grownup, and we have rules about that sort of thing. Unless you're at an estate sale (doesn't count when they're dead!) or you're touring an apartment you might rent (gotta see that closet space!). Or if you're going through the attic of the Willard Psychiatric Center (read: insane asylum) and you discover over 200 suitcases, filled with stuff, from patients who are long gone.
This is what happened in 1995 when the hospital closed and was being cleaned out. Since it's totes ok to look through people's shit once they're dead (see above), they made a museum exhibit about it!
I can't tell you how excited I would be to dig through 200 suitcases and put together the lives of their respective owners. Can you imagine? Love letters and diaries and baby pictures, oh my! Unfortunately for me, somebody already did the rifle-through-their-shit part. Fortunately for everyone, they put some of the interesting suitcases (and their owners) on the internet! Check it out here.
Oh yeah -- it's also kind of an awful reminder of how badly we used to (and still do) treat the mentally ill. Most of the suitcase-owners were institutionalized for 30 years or more, and most of them were not really ill to begin with. So it's sad! But also interesting! But really fucking depressing!
Which is just how I like it.
Enjoy.
Welcome to Insomnia....
Tonight a friend of mine pointed out that maybe I should try to make my insomnia profitable rather than fighting against it. I tend to wander around the internets when I'm too wired to sleep, so when I find something that seems worthwhile enough for non-insomniacs to read, I'll post it. Enjoy.
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