winterlong.net

A couple days ago a few of the meat-popsicles in Washington D.C. voted to expand some of scary parts of The PATRIOT Act.

It’s now going to be easier for the FBI to walk into my doctor’s office and get proof that I am crazy. Special Agents can go to my local library or Barnes and Noble and see that I check out/buy books like He’s Just Not That Into You Because He’s Freaking Mentally Ill. (Strictly for research purposes, I’m researching how to act so I don’t seem insane when I meet women.)

They’ve also made it illegal for anyone, be it the library/bookstore/doctor’s office or you, the investigated, to talk about the fact you were info-buggered with a rolled up copy of the Bill of Rights that the Justice Department uses to smoke pot while laughing at my cholesterol count.

When did a desire for privacy become probably cause for invasion of Constitutionally-guaranteed privacy? Surely not 9/11? 15 of the 19 9/11 terrorists got into this country despite their visa applications being woefully suspect. How does seeing what books I buy or borrow help stop that?

But, I always forget this part, if you’re not fully onboard with the War on Terrorismâ„¢, you’re riding with Bin Laden.

What ever happened to that dude anyway?

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I was in bed, fully intending to get to sleep at a decent time tonight, listening to some music on my iPod. I’d reached that point, like I do with most things in my life, where I needed to listen to (or do) something different than what I had been for the past couple months. (That being Placebo.) So I called up an old favorite, Sneaker Pimps. There’s a song called Loretta Young Silks on the Bloodsport album that has always been near and dear to me for some reason. Tonal and melodic harmony of some sort with my brain.

That song brought me full awake and at the Powerbook.

Why, I don’t know.

Loretta Young was an actress way back in the day. “Loretta Young Silks” refers to the the hanging of silk stockings over the camera lens when filming her that her cameraman used to achieve a soft focus. Coincidentally, or not, Loretta Young was born in my neck of the desert.

Anyway, that’s my short, inane, conflagration of weird music/movie sleepytime facts.

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