This website, www.kristinrein.com, contains some beautiful artwork by Philadelphia artist Kristin Schattenfield-Rein.

Title for a book or song or album: "I Am Where I Am Going."

I like it partly because, under most circumstances, if you were still going you wouldn't have gotten there yet. But I am there, yet I continue to go. And there's a nice little tension/confusion about what modifies what here -- is it that, where I am now is where I am going? Or is it that where I am going is "I"? Or even that what I am is a matter of simply where I am going? (Answer: yes and yes and yes.) And I like the musical cadence of it -- the repeated "I Am" -- nice in itself -- with different conclusions. Happily, you could also say: "I am where? I am going." Or even: "I am where I am: Going." All of which are right.

When I google this phrase I get a lot of results, but a quick peek suggests that all or most of them are some version of the phrase "I don't know who I am, where I am going." This phrase gives a fun zen-like answer to both of those questions.

http://translationparty.com/#5394864

Wait, what?

Do we think it's okay to arrest and execute innocent people, or don't we?

Look at all those beautiful white people!

http://www.newsweek.com/id/162297

Only person of color is the bodyguard. Nice.

They argue that giving Guantanamo prisoners the right to challenge their detention in habeas proceedings will result in releasing terrorists to freedom, imperiling Americans. That we should just keep things the way they are.

http://www.mcclatchydc.com/homepage/story/45505.html

All the detainees' lawyers want is a little rational decision-making about who is detained and who isn't.

It's not funny. This shit is important.

Hi. Just like last time I posted, I'm not dying to write something long and interesting at the moment. But I need to take a minute to say something. Over the Thanksgiving holiday that just ended, I was at home with my Mom, and we began talking about a fucked up episode in my childhood, in which my Mom behaved very irresponsibly, basically destroying her marriage and scarring me for life. (That sentence is meant to be a tad tongue in cheek, but it's basically true.) In this conversation, she proposed that we try to do some "work" on this -- i.e., we consider doing therapy together, or making a point of talking it out between the two of us, etc. She asked me (and she's actually asked me this before) if there's anything I'd like to say to her about that episode, and honestly, I couldn't really think of anything.

But I resolved to try to do some thinking, privately, about it. And the best way I could think of to go about that was to write about it. So I'm sort of introducing that project here.

Interestingly, my very inclination right now is to say "okay, my job's done here -- I 'introduced the project,' I'll actually do the writing later." I suspect that that is of a piece with the fact that I couldn't really think of anything to say to my Mom, and the fact that I have only very cloudy memories of my parents' break-up, despite the fact that it happened when I was 16. I.e., I really don't want to think about this much. I don't want to force it here, but maybe I'll try to write a little.

Maybe I'll just tell the story. Here goes. I might not finish this in this post, but I'll pick it up later.

When I was 10, my mother started having an affair. She had her affair with a woman -- somewhat shocking to a little boy who'd only known his mother to ever love his father -- and, in fact, a woman who was quite a bit older than her. In fact, this woman (we'll call her Blanche) had been my mother's high school math teacher. Further, she and my mother had had a sexual relationship when my mother was her student. Okay, so you get an idea of the sort of person Blanche was. She was the sort of person who'd molest -- is that fair to say? I'm not sure -- a 15-year-old girl who trusted and respected her. And, as we found out, she was the type of person who'd take advantage of that same girl, now 40 years old, who had never dealt with that undoubtedly insane childhood experience and was now struggling with a very unhappy marriage. Let me just say now, I hate Blanche.

Anyway, so my mother has this affair with Blanche. My brother and I didn't know this was going on, until my Mom took us to live with Blanche for the summer. Once we were there, well, frankly, I heard them having sex. They didn't, like, kiss in front of us or anything, but I knew enough to know what I was hearing. It still turns my stomach to think about it. (But is that just because it's yucky to think of your mother having sex? Probably.) So there I was, a 10-year-old boy, living in a house with his mother and her lover, while my father was 3,000 miles away in the only home I'd ever known before that point. It was horrible, or at least I think so. Don't remember it that well. I do remember just wishing so much that I could be home with my father, and I remember really hating Blanche.

I guess that's the whole story. We lived there for the summer, and then went back home and back to school. We went out there again the following summer, and did it all over again. I hated it just as much that time. Went back home and back to school, and then never went back there again. But I do remember my mom talking to Blanche on the phone after that, and I'd always know that's who she was talking to because she got this really soft tone in her voice -- I never knew whether she was being seductive or just trying to keep me and my father and brother from hearing her, but either way it was not good. Meanwhile, my father had an affair -- basically in response to my Mom's. He wasn't as overt about it, but I remember thinking he might be having an affair, or something along those lines -- I knew he had a friend, we'll call her Mona, and I just remember suspecting it was romantic. All very fucking sordid.

Then, things seemed to me to go back to normal. And suddenly, five or six years later, my Dad announced he was moving out.

Well, that's really the whole story. I don't have any great insight from writing this. I knew I'd have to revisit it multiple times. But yeah. I don't want to. I'm grossed out. And you know, honestly, I don't want to be mad at my Mom. I don't want to dredge up anger with her that I'd let settle over the years. My relationship with her is at a good place right now, and I'd rather not fuck that up. But I guess it's probably important, right? I don't know, I just can't really imagine talking to her on the phone about this, telling her "yeah, I was just remembering how bad it made me feel to hear you talking to Blanche, because your voice always took on this seductive quality, and I hated it so much." I mean, that's my Mom, I can't make her cry! (And she would inevitably cry, even though she told me "it's not like I couldn't stand to hear what you have to say.") That's part of my problem, though. I just can't stand to hurt her. I want every phone call to end with me saying, "...and that's why I'm doing great and you don't have to worry about me at all. Boy it was good talking to you!" Oy vey. I don't know. Blech.

I don't really have the time or inclination to write a long post right now. Not sure why that is -- it's part of the natural cycle, I guess, of my blogging life. I'm sure in about two years I'll pick it up again, probably with some new focus, and do it steadily for a few weeks before getting bored of it all over. But anyway, I've just been reading over the content here, and I feel I need to say something.

W and I have been in our new city, living in that gigantic rental I was talking about, for about six months now. And as a general rule, we've been extraordinarily happy. That's basically all I wanted to say -- I read some of my old posts and I can see that there were some very, very, VERY dark times not that long ago. I just want to officially note that those dark times aren't all there is to our life. We've been happy as hell lately. (Of course, for the sake of completeness, I should note that we've had our worries too -- the biggest ones being, "okay, I guess we need to start looking to buy a house again," and "okay, are we going to have kids or what?" I'm sure I'll blog about those sometime soon, unless I have in fact given up blogging for good. But I don't want to dilute the force of my point here, that overall we've been happy.)

A couple specific things I should note: we love our house and neighborhood. We've gotten very friendly with a number of the people on our block, and we've been making a point of being social and getting out of the house. And some of these people really are a lot of fun, and really seem to appreciate us and our perspective on things. And we've been really loving each other lately, and appreciating every moment we have together.

I guess writing this post is pointing up something that everyone knows, which is that pain and darkness are much more interesting than happiness and light. This post isn't as interesting as those older ones. It's kind of boring, frankly. I mean, it's just hard to go on and on about how happy you are. I guess that's because happiness is, in its pure form, a very simple emotion? If you had more to say, it would be because there was something complicating the happiness, maybe? I'm not sure, honestly. This is another of those things I've wondered about for a long time. I remember, back when we were kids, W asking me, "why does it feel like sadness is infinite, and moments of happiness are fleeting?" Somehow I think that's connected to this point, but I'm not sure why.

But, I mean, everyone knows this. Sadness has depth to it; happiness is shallow. That's not a flip judgment on people -- like, people who are happy are shallow -- I really mean it, about the emotions themselves. Happiness is just happiness! Sadness is grief, and sorrow, and jealousy, and insecurity, and a neverending morass of conflicting and complicated emotions, one leading to the other, for ever.

It's so odd, though. Happiness is more than "just happiness," isn't it? Isn't it contentment, and elation, and satisfaction, and on and on, right? And yet you always feel that there's some sadness lurking in the background. I think I told W, back when we talked about this, that sadness is an emotion you have to "deal with." But happiness, you just let it be. And what this means is, when there's happiness and sadness in a moment, it's the sadness that demands your attention, your concentration; so you feel that, while there's some happiness there, you're going to have to deal with that sadness. This is why it's so hard to ignore sadness, and why sadness is always lurking there -- if you had to "deal with" happiness, you wouldn't be able to forget about it either.

So is there a lesson here? Probably -- if you could come up with a way to require yourself to deal with happiness, without turning it into something negative, maybe you'd be a happier person. Yes, but... part of what's good about happiness is that you don't have to deal with it, isn't it?

Here's what I don't get: why don't these two NY Times articles say whether MoveOn was able to pick the day their ad ran, and/or whether they were told which day it would run? That seems to be the heart of the controversy. They do tell us that Giuliani was told which day his ad would run, so they can apparently get that info. Doesn't say whether they got it from Giuliani or the paper, but presumably they could try the analogous approach w/ the MoveOn ad and report the results. But there's no mention.

For the record, as you know, I'm a lefty type. But I'm very suspicious of Kat Seelye's reporting because of her role in fucking over Al Gore (and the rest of the country as a result) in 2000.

UPDATE: I'll be damned. I guess this is why. Fucking idiots.

I'm just taking a few seconds to write something down that I've been thinking about, and that I'm afraid I am going to forget. Actually, there's good news and there's bad news. The bad news is, I'm about to repeat some words of wisdom I learned from the insipid (but entertaining) TV show Psych. So that fact is thoroughly embarrassing. Add to that the fact that, I think, Psych was repeating this precisely because it's considered a stupid cliche. So my finding it somehow profound is really just humiliating. The good news is that it is something that can help me in my relationship with W, I think -- in fact, I think it's already been helping me.

Here goes: on this particular episode of Psych, the straight-laced square detective (Lassiter) is being berated by some over-achieving genius high school students, about something having to do with his relationship with some woman. I can't really remember the details. Anyway, one of them says, "did you ever just listen to her problems, instead of insisting on fixing them?" Or something along those lines. It is, of course, a joke because it's something everyone's heard before. But honestly, I've always known that I react to people telling me about their problems by going, 'how can I do something about that?' And if there's nothing I can do, I basically get annoyed that they're telling me -- 'what the hell do they want me to do about that?!'

This is especially problematic vis-a-vis W. That's no way to react to the person who's supposed to be able to talk to you about anything. It's especially sad because I considered myself so sensitive and good with people for so many years. Anyway I've been putting it into practice lately -- of course, if there's something that I can do that really will solve her problem, I'll try to do it. But even if there isn't, I've been trying to just listen, and say, "oh, man, that sucks!" And things like that. Tonight I said "don't worry about that." And then I corrected myself -- "But, of course I understand that you're worried and why." I think this kind of thing is good. So I'm writing it down because hopefully it will help me to keep it in mind.

Okay, I just posted something about politics, and then I realized that I haven't written anything about my life since the bar. Well, I took the fucker. I think I failed. W points out that I always think I failed every test I take, which is true; another friend tells me that everyone thinks they failed the bar. So, who knows. After taking the bar I got a letter from my law school telling me I graduated cum laude, which boosted my confidence a little: I mean, who graduates cum laude from a top-five law school, studies their ass off for the bar, and then fails it? But the fact is, when I think about the exam, the questions, the answers I gave, I sure as shit feel like I failed. We'll see.

I start work on Monday. I've gotten used to the life of leisure, which I've been living for over a month now, for the first time since I can remember. I'm not really looking forward to giving it up. But actually it's going to be exciting to get to work. I'll let you know how it goes.

So, John Boehner thinks that the "investment" we're making in Iraq will be a "small price" to pay if it means we're able to defeat al Qaeda and stabilize the Middle East. Well, let's put aside for the moment the fact that that is about the biggest pair of "ifs" imaginable in foreign affairs today, and focus on Greg Sargent's point. Sargent is upset that the Democrats aren't making a bigger deal about this. "Bottom line: It's hard to see what Boehner said as anything but reprehensible," he says. "And his remarks could become a big story, if Dems wanted to make it one."

Kevin Drum has complained about the same phenomenon -- the Dems' inability to respond to something like this swiftly and decisively, and their apparent preference for waiting a while, and then responding when the story has faded away. It's a very ineffectual approach, and I'm sure we'll see it played out again here.

Now, I don't know what the Dems are thinking. But I have a guess. I think that there's an internal debate -- and maybe this debate is internal to a lot of individual Democrats -- as to what to do. Because using Boehner's remark as a cudgel to personally attack him, which is what the Republicans would do, is basically reprehensible and doesn't get us anywhere. Demanding apologies and the like does nothing but make Boehner look bad -- it doesn't advance the debate. And I like to believe that Dems want to be above that sort of thing. (Probably wrong though.) On the other hand, of course, they are missing a very big political opportunity to beat up the other side here, and god knows in today's political climate, that seems to be what needs to be done.

That said, here's what I think the Dems should do. They should immediately speak out about this comment. But they shouldn't demand an apology from Boehner, or address him directly at all -- they shouldn't scold him and all that, the way the Republicans probably would. Instead, they should talk about his comment to the American public, and say "Here is a perfect example of the problem. The Republicans just can't see the enormity of the price we're paying in lives and dollars. They just don't see 3,500 soldiers' lives as a real sacrifice. This is why we can't let them be the ones making decisions about the war anymore." Something like that. Because really, that's why it matters. I mean, I'm sure that if Boehner had been pressed on his remark at the time, he would have said, "of course that's not what I meant" -- and he would have been sincere. But the fact that he said it is telling. It means that, at the forefront of his mind -- when he's not thinking carefully -- he sees what's happening in Iraq as "small"!

This is extraordinarily important because at the moment the essence of the debate is a cost-benefit analysis: anti-war types think that the cost isn't worth whatever potential benefit there is; and pro-war types feel the opposite. And Boehner's comment reveals a very twisted, very warped gauge of the cost. We shouldn't take seriously the cost-benefit analysis of someone who can't gauge the cost.

UPDATE: after writing this post, I tried to summarize it in a comment on the Horse's Mouth blog. It didn't work -- comments are disabled or something, not sure. But I like my short version of this post, so I'm copying it here instead:

Well said, as usual, Greg.

I'd add that Dems should take this opportunity, not to attack Boehner personally, but to point out to the American public that this sort of thinking is the reason that the Republicans can't be trusted anymore to make decisions on Iraq. I suspect that many Dems aren't responding directly because they think that public scolding and demands for apologies don't get us anywhere, and they like to see themselves as above that sort of politics. But they don't have to go that route. Instead, they should point out that, when Boehner speaks frankly, he reveals that he has an inability to recognize the sacrifice in lives and dollars that Americans are making in Iraq every day.

This is particularly important because, at its heart, the Iraq debate is now largely a matter of cost vs. benefit. Anti-war types point out that the cost is enormous, and that the potential benefits (i.e., in Boehner's words, "if we’re able to stop al Qaeda here, if we’re able to stabilize the Middle East") are so incredibly speculative as to be probably non-existent. Pro-war types don't see it that way. In Boehner's remark, he revealed that he simply can't see the cost for what it is -- his gauge of the price we're paying is totally off, warped even.

Dems should hold this statement up as a rare glimpse of the way pro-war politicians, comfortable in their Washington offices, are making their decisions on Iraq.

No time, of course, since I'm studying for the bar. But I have to keep constant tabs on talkingpointsmemo.com, as I need something to distract me, and keep me from doing what I'm supposed to be doing. Just refreshed and saw a post referring to this article in the WaPo, discussing a Rand Corp. study commissioned by the U.S. Joint Forces Command.

I haven't read the article, of course, but this quote apparently sums it up: "[Iraqi civilians] are less likely to help, the study says, when they become 'collateral damage' in U.S. attacks, have their doors broken down or are shot at checkpoints because they do not speak English."

Now, that has got to be a joke. There's no way someone wrote that sentence with a straight face, not realizing how insane it is. Our military, after four years of warfare, has just commissioned a study to tell them that it's easier to get people to join your cause if you don't shoot them. I love the fact that it says they're "less likely" to help. So, those people who are being shot for not speaking English -- they're still somewhat likely to help us, just not as likely.

History will judge us harshly.

So the bar is five days away now. Holy mozoli. I've been studying my butt off. The fussed up thing is that I don't have any idea how I'm doing. They tell me that you should shoot to get 60% correct on the multistate portion of the exam. Every time I take a practice test, I get about 75% right. But I am really, honest-to-god guessing on a good three-quarters of the question, which makes me think that score isn't a slam dunk. Then there's the essay portion. After two months of classes, I still don't have a clue how they score those fuckers. On the practice exams, I usually get a few completely wrong, a few right, and a few kind of in-between. I don't know what this means. I keep reminding myself, "Self, you're a smart guy. You've been studying a lot -- like, a whole lot. You test well, generally speaking. How could you not pass this?" I think that I really believe that, deep down. But it is pretty fucking scary. If I don't pass... well, I don't want to go into that. I don't want to get myself all upset.

Anyway, the prevailing feeling today is complete uncertainty about what to expect.

I'm studying for the bar. It's about 1.5 weeks away now, so I am studying intensely. As a result, I'm procrastinating intensely too. I just wanted to flag this. The WaPo has a series talking about four different congresspeople, whom they've each given a title to as if they were characters in a sitcom: the "conservative democrat," the "antiwar liberal," the "anguished moderate," and the "loyal republican." At the risk of being a traitor to my team, I think that (apart from just being a stupid way of reporting on politicians -- it might be acceptable if the subject were entertainment or something), the treatment of Isakson (the Republican) here is unfair. Everyone else gets a title based on their ideas about the world -- they're conservative, or liberal, or antiwar, or moderate or whatever -- but he's just a loyal republican.

Hm. Now that I think about this, though, maybe it's just accurate: maybe his whole position is just of loyalty to the president. That certainly wouldn't be a major surprise in todays republican party. Obviously, I haven't read the articles and I'm not going to, what w/ time being what it is. (To give you an idea of how tight time is, I'm typing this while sitting on the can.) So I really can't comment on whether it's accurate or not. But it is interesting.

"We've got 20-some investigations that all look good," Flynt said during a news conference at his Beverly Hills office.

"We have got some high-ranking Republican and Democratic members of the Senate and the House," he told reporters. "If I get just a couple of those phonies out of there, maybe it will be a step forward."

Flynt provided no names or details about the investigations. His comments conflicted with a press release issued by the magazine that put the number of investigations at "several."

There are of course lots of reasons to blog about this. But I'm actually just highlighting it because I'm surprised that AP believes that it's contradictory to say there are "20-some" investigations, on the one hand, and to say there are "several" investigations, on the other. That is all.

I guess now that it's been a month and a half I ought to write something. It won't be good, I promise you that, but I suppose that the future me would be curious to know what I'm feeling like tonight.

You probably know what's going on in my life already, right -- W and I moved down to our new city, into this fucking palatial house in a very fancy neighborhood; we've been here for over a month and still haven't really finished unpacking (right now that just seems like such a perfect sum-up of the way we live); I've been studying for the bar and, naturally, finding myself totally freaked out and feeling totally unprepared.

At the moment, W has been away for four days or so -- she went to spend time w/ her elderly father in Cape Cod, where he's staying by himself for a little while. She was called to duty after her brother dropped the guy off and realized how old he is and asked her to come up and keep an eye on him for a bit. So she's there. She's coming home tomorrow. Frankly, it sounds like she's having a horrible time. The old coot is a true son of a bitch. It's pretty amazing. I mean, the whole thing about him is that he's just an asshole, and everybody realizes it and acknowledges it, and yet he's quite charming at the same time. It's true. I have a whole lot of affection for him. I wonder if this is how my Mom felt about my father's mother? She was ornery -- that's the word that I think sums her up best -- and I think she was flat-out mean to my mother. And my mother doesn't have any illusions about that. But it's not uncommon for her to wax sort of nostalgic about her, and say things like, "I learned a lot from that woman." Anyway, W's up there, she keeps calling me and sending me texts saying things like, "when can I come home?" Of course, then there are these little snippets, glimpses of fun and pleasant feelings, and she'll report to me things like, "we had such a great time at dinner tonight!" And I know that that must have been one hell of a dinner. Anyway, she comes home tomorrow. I feel kind of bad that it looks like she's going to leave w/ a bad taste in her mouth. That's not good. I wish the guy could get him a fucking clue and just try to make it pleasant for her last night, so that she doesn't spend the next three months thinking he's an asshole.

Well anyway. Here's the deal with me right now: my studies have been all fucking consuming. No shit. And -- the sad part -- I really don't feel like I'm necessarily going to be prepared. Wow, that is truly sad. I think I'm working harder on this shit that anyone else I know, but

...

just got a call from W. Bemoaning her situation. Poor thing.

...

Anyway, I was saying that I'm working my shishkas off (made-up Yiddish word?) but I honestly don't think I have a handle on this. It is FUCKING NUTS. Wow. I mean. You know?

So the point is, I've been here alone in this giant house for a few days now -- and frankly I haven't been alone at all since W left her job in our old home town, which was, I don't know, 2 months ago now probably. No, that can't be right. Well, at least one month. Anyway. But the point is, today I actually finished my work at about seven thirty or something. (This is remarkable because most days I'm working 'till midnight or so.) Instead of boning up on some aspect of the law that I'm weak on (believe me there are quite a fucking few) I cracked a beer and poured some scotch. Three hours later I'm not exactly toasted but I'm feeling warm. I haven't been drinking nearly enough since we've been here. So here I am, Wednesday night, by myself, sitting in the dark (that's true -- I'm not just saying it because it's something you say when you talk about drinking alone in your giant house) listening to Niel Young's "On the Beach." DAMN that's a good album for this mood.

I got hit this afternoon with the old melancholy. It's so strange, because I mentioned this to W on the phone earlier today and I was compelled to say, "it's no big deal really, it's not like it's even unpleasant." Being melancholy -- generally considered a synonym for "sad" -- isn't unpleasant. But it's true. The old melancholy -- as opposed to truly feeling bad, which happens too -- is actually almost a good feeling. It's about wanting to be alone, have some drinks, and listen to some music. In the dark. (No shit.) But I think the real point is that... what the fuck, I have no idea what the real point is. It's about wanting to be alone, and feeling like the rest of the world just doesn't get it, and just doesn't have anything for you. But it's not bad, necessarily. I mean, everything in the outside world seems wrong when you think about it from this perspective, so that's bad. Sure, it's very bad. Like, I mean, there's nothing positive going on at all from this perspective -- everything is infected with hypocrisy and any attempt to do good is bound to fail. Yeah, that's bad. But the overriding feeling is that you have to find beauty or goodness somewhere else then. And that's what music and aesthetics and booze are for. And that I can do. I can really, really, really sit and listen to some music and hear something unbelievably beautiful, especially if I'm drinking. And I can look at something that's nice to my eyes and get pleasure from it. (I seem to want to avoid the word "art," not 100% sure why that is. I guess "art" can be so infected w/ hypocrisy and posturing too... but then so can music. I don't know... it's something about the word "art." Plus, and this might be more to the point, I include things like flowers, and reflections on the river, and the sky on a nice day, etc., etc., etc., in what I'm calling "aesthetics.") I mean, I can look at something mundane and ugly and stupid and find some beauty in it if I'm in this mood. I like unpacked houses and sitting in the dark at huge tables with no one else around when I'm in this mood. Isn't it weird?

Now, I'm not going to allow myself to go down the road that this next comment by all rights probably should take me down, but here's the comment: how fucking self-absorbed can I be? I don't think I need to elaborate much on that. Read the paragraph above this one, and I think it will make sense why I'd say that. And I think that I could go down that road, but it would just end in me truly feeling bad, to quote myself, and it would NOT end in me being any more productive or useful in this world. Certainly not tonight. So what's the point? Why not enjoy this old melancholy this evening? I can tackle the world and its hypocrisy and ugliness and debasedness and infection some other time. In fact, maybe I never will. I can try to work in small ways on making individual lives better. (Some other time, of course.) This feeling is all about how the hypocrisy and its attendants really can't be conquered.

I should stop writing, but I guess this is a glimpse of what it's like inside my head... it's not going to really stop when I stop writing... Anyway the thing I was going to say was that when I was in college -- and that's a really long time ago now (before the collapse of the Soviet Union, for the record) -- I was struck by a quote from Marx calling for "a radical critique of everything existing." Or something like that. That might be wrong, but if it is, I think it's probably better than whatever is right. The thing about it is that, everything existing is infected with everything that's wrong with this world. You can't get the stink out. And so to fix it you'd have to start afresh. In college, I was hit by this when my then-girlfriend talked negatively about someone who once gave her flowers. She thought it was gross and bad. My first reaction was, "damn, giving someone flowers is nice. Really nice." But then I understood her perspective -- it was just a part of a whole way of looking at the world that was bad. Or, it had become a part of that. It wasn't the flower-giver's fault, necessarily. It's just that giving flowers was part of, well, part of everything existing. So it was fucked up.

Okay. Here's the thing: I'd better stop writing. Because the more I write the more I sound like a college student. And like I say, I haven't been a college student since the collapse of the USSR. (Actually, that's wrong. But you get the point -- it's been a long time. It was acceptable to read Marx approvingly back then.) So, just to save myself from wanting to jump off a building when I read this tomorrow, I'd better stop.

ADDED LATER: according to Google, there's only one other guy on the web who's ever referenced this quote from Marx. Are we both wrong? It can't be that no one else thinks it's remarkable, can it?

ADDED STILL LATER: okay. Don't jump off a building when you read this, future me, but it seems that most people think the word that I'm translating as "radical" really means "ruthless." And lots of people are remarking on it, and it's even the title of an essay (For a Ruthless Critique of Everything Existing).