When I saw Recount very little of it was new to me because I had read Vincent Bugliosi’s book on the after-election. I love true crime and Bugliosi had written Helter Skelter plus many other truly good books. I know I have written on how oddly picky I am when it comes to true crime books. I won’t spell out all the criteria they have to meet. His does.
He is also deeply conservative–a true thinking conservative–one of my favorite breed of men so when he writes a book accusing Bush of murder, I have to read it–though I haven’t yet. I love true conservatives who believe in morality–and yes when I was a political blogger I would confuse the radical right by saying such things.
Bugliosi’s book has sold 130,000 copies though it’s getting very little mainstream press. MSNBC and The Daily Show refuse to adv advertise it. A claim of Bush bashing fatigue has been made. I admit to being tired of Bush but we can’t bash him enough really. It should be every thinking Americans patriotic duty.
We’re all being affected by his ineptness; his inability to understand what’s happening in this country; his refusal to accept responsibility for Iraq, the economy and I could go on but why get myself sicker? So yes I understand Bush bashing fatigue but…we’re living in an atmosphere of fear of just about everything.
Many of us baby boomers thought we had it made. It’s neither fair nor right that things we have worked hard for such as a secure older age might not be so secure. I blame Bush. He actually said “someday people will appreciate the tax cuts.” That’s his answer to our economy problems.
I just saw a picture on a blog of somebody I had a crush on many years ago. It was an unrequited crush and most of my crushes weren’t. My ego was shattered when my then best friend, Shelby, told him about it and asked if he was interested. I wasn’t used to being rejected; I was used to my husband–we were technically married then but not living together–following me around but not in a creep stalking way–that would come later with other men. He would drive me places I needed to go, and we would hang out
It hurt; it really did. But when I looked at the picture I was once again very impressed with my taste in hippie men who somehow made a living through music, but not usually by playing or singing. Though by the time that picture was taken i was into glitter.
No I’m not going to link to the picture. If you knew me then you can easily figure it out. I gave a very vague but good clue.
If you haven’t read this yet, what are you doing at my blog? Here’s the whole cover. I have learned to copy articles since the first cover or probably that was copied but lost in a computer crash. I now back up everything to two places in the Internet and a data stick.
I’m sort of on vacation and will be until 7/22 as my best friend–I held a contest to replace Shelby and Lucia won–will be here next week. We’re planning on partying like it’s 1999 which is very sad as we didn’t that year. Maybe 79 but we don’t do a lot of stuff…..Life’s complicated
I did go to three undergrad schools. CW Post, my favorite. It was two years of non stop playing. NYU, the first year of the Gallatin school. I had to write eleven essays about what I wanted to do with my life and have two interviews. I’m a good writer and obviously can bull shit well as I still don’t know, and I interview well–one of the intervewers was a long haired man so I was in my element and the other was the director of the program. I wish I could say I was mature enough to benefit from the program but I wasn’t. I did have a job, an almost full time volunteer job and the junkie roommates who also had decided to try out alternate sexual practices. I moved in with Shelby as did her boyfriend who was not fondly nicknamed the Rat. It was a very full year and school did come last for the last time.
My dad was an alumni and his magazine said that 200 students were accepted out of 2,000 applicants. He almost had it framed. To this day I’m convinced they meant 200 students applied for 200 places.
My third undergrad school was Boston University and it was an incredible match. I was one of three undergrads in a grad program in “Urban Affairs.” I loved every second of it. But alas I missed New York and came home to be so rejected by the crush of my youth.
If I rejected you and y’all know who I mean I’m sorry and kinda didn’t mean to–I was oblivious to the obvious and the great life in front of me.