Thessaly's Tooth

How many Marxists does it take to screw in a light bulb?

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I have a number of pet theories about a variety of subjects. One of them is about the book House of Leaves. Last time I was in Chicago I wandered down to the little coffee shop in the library and they were playing Poe’s Haunted, which reminded me of the book, which Andy and I read a couple of years ago. It’s one of those books that leave a lot of questions unanswered and loose ends untied-up, and hence lends itself to pet theories. Here’s mine (spoiler, perhaps):

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Every year I listen on in bewilderment to the debate over this seemingly innocuous holiday. This really never came up when I was a kid. I merrily trick-or-treated as a cat, a ghost, a witch, Huckleberry Finn, and finally (in college), Pierette, and I don’t remember anybody connecting the holiday with actal occult practice.
I can see the point of parents who don’t want their kids messing with supernatural trappings, but by putting the emphasis on how scary and dangerous the occult is, we implicitly grant the dark powers enough power over us to make us scared and keep us on the run from them. In addition, this probably often has the effect of making the occult seem more alluring to young people. My belief about the occult is that though it is possible for satan to give powers to his followers, I don’t really think he is that generous, he’s probably glad to accept the worship and let these people think they have some kind of special powers–the joke is on them.

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No, same old me. But a new title anyway.

The End

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Still more.

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More of the same.

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In place of the usual, here is part one of a story I wrote.

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I’ve been in kind of a poor mood all week. One time on some quiz show on NPR, they had a question about the age at which adolescence ends, according to some research institution or other. I guessed 25. The answer was 34. Can you believe that? By the time you get over all this insecurity and moodiness stuff, you’re practically old. Actually, I take that back. Due to the rapid approach of one of those birthdays that ends in a zero, I’m currently revising my idea of what old is. Now, my philosophy is “You’re as young as you feel,” and this week that’s about 15 for me, in terms of peevishness and irrationality.
Anyway, I thought it was about time I registered some angst on this blog for a change, in place of the usual sweetness and light. However, it’s the weekend and things are looking up, like an Egyptian king’s ka-statue in its serdab, gazing eternally upwards at the imperishable northern stars.
Aha, now I think I know the real reason for my bad mood: I’m almost 30, and I still have homework.

This weekend, as Andy previously expressed, we went to visit his relatives in Ohio. I’d never before spent any significant amount of time in Ohio, but it seems like a very nice place. We stayed with Andy’s grandma, and met most of the other relatives at a cookout at his aunt and uncle’s house on Saturday. I was rather stressed out about meeting the in-laws, but I had a good time.
I’ve been doing a good job of avoiding studying this week. Today I’ve been running errands. I dropped some stuff off at Goodwill and bought some vegetables at the farmer’s market. I’m thinking about buying some plants there for our shady patio area; I tend to dither about small purchases like that for months. Then I went to Sam’s Club. I find that place fascinating, and always seem to spend a long time there. I’m always anxious to get in and out of the regular grocery store as fast as possible, but at Sam’s I spend forever marveling at the giant jars of mayonnaise.
I need to turn my attention to Ancient Mesopotamia for a while now. No mayonnaise; ziggurats.