So. My parents came to town. We had been planning what to do for months…

My dad was coming here to give a speech to introduce a friend of his who was receiving an award from a scientific society which you might recognize if I mentioned it. He was going to bring mom, and we could all spend a few extra days after the meeting doing something touristy.

I attended the awards ceremony. I’d never seen my dad give a speech like that, and he did really well. He’s an old hat with giving talks and speeches at events like this, but I had never seen him do it before. I was also amazed to see my dad’s face on the giant projection TV next to the stage. “I AM HOMER’S DAD! OBEY ME!”

So then, after that, there was supposed to be a bit of a mixer in the exhibition hall. We all dutifully trundled down to the hall and waded through the throngs of non-award people who were all talking about grant money. The mixer wasn’t really a mixer; just an excuse to hand out tickets for free wine.

And then, after that, a journey across the street to another hotel, and down the elevator into the fabled, shi-shi wine cellar, there to eat an exquisite meal and drink fine wine, seated around banquet tables in low light, with the brainiest geologists and geophysicists in the known universe.

Afterwards, I went home, happy to have had the opportunity, and completely freakin’ exhausted, because this situation represented three of the most strenuous things for me in the world: lots of people, a lack of alone time, and people asking me what I do for a living. I lied and told people I was writing a novel. They’d ask, ‘Yeah? What’s it about?’ I was too exhausted and otherwise tongue-tied to make anything up. Very embarassing. Note to self: Write novel before going to awards ceremony next time.

The next day was supposed to be relax day. We were going to go drive around Ballard, eat a meal or two, and get ready to leave on the road trip we’d been planning for two months. We were going to go up to Victoria, BC, and spend some time doing Victorian things. But instead what happened is that my back went out, and I’ve spent the past couple of days being frustrated and apologizing all day long to my parents, who are saints, it should be said.

So here I sit. They’re going up to Victoria tomorrow AM, and I’ll be here watching TV all day long, popping ibuprofen. I hope they have fun.

via boingboing…

A web site featuring beautiful panoramic images of Japan at night. (Click the red dots on the map and see. I wish I knew my Japanese geography better, since the map is in Japanese.)

For example… Kinpo and Nagasaki.

I’ve been reading some ‘blogs (Xanga and otherwise), and something occurred to me. It seems to me that the dominant model for culture in the US is an equation that works like this:

Find someone who is widely recognized as smart, and someone widely recognized as stupid. Imagine that the intelligence and wisdom of these two people are numbers. Let’s say smart is +2 and stupid is -2 (so the math is easy). The average would be 0.

So you rate yourself. Let’s say you make yourself a +1. This would dictate that you make yourself appear to be more stupid, so that you appear to be a 0. If you are a -1, then you make yourself appear smarter by one, even though that’s not actually possible.

Do this in all areas of your life. In areas where you are weaker than average, put on a front and don’t be afraid to be incompetent. In areas where you are stronger than average, maim your soul so that you don’t have to be rudely brilliant.

And, most importantly, you must never, ever realize that the widely-recognized-as-smart people you evaluated are breaking the rules of the game.

My parents got into town today. Showed them my place, went out for dinner.

Somehow, just that little bit was exhausting. I’ve been pretty solitary for the past couple weeks, so I guess it’s a shock to Young Master Autism, even though I’m really glad to see them, and looking forward to spending time with them for the next week.

I’m feeling a general sort of agitation lately. I’m a little pissy with myself, but mostly I feel a sort of indignation about things.

Back during the Iraq war, I was overwhelmed with the reality of it. I sat there and watched the live coverage of ‘Shock And Awe,’ and felt a kind of instant grief that tore me apart. There was an unjustness about it; not about the reasons for war (though I don’t consider them just), but about the way it just rolled along, ripples on the surface of a still pond, disturbed by ideologues. It’s spread wasn’t halted or even slowed down by justice, by humanity, by concern. It didn’t matter what the world thought, what the people of the US thought, what anyone thought. It was destined to happen by the calculus of power alone.

I spent many weeks (maybe months, depending on how you count) sitting around, feeling as though I had just lost my citizenship. I felt as if the world had passed me by, on its way to lynch some human scapegoats. I felt like I hadn’t done enough, but also that there was no such thing as ‘enough.’

And now the right is saying that Bush never claimed Iraq was an imminent threat. The administration is saying they didn’t put the ‘Mission Accomplished’ sign on the aircraft carrier. They delay the Kay report on Iraqi WMD (because there aren’t any and never were). They don’t cooperate with the committee investigating the intelligence screw-ups that lead to the war. They’ve run roughshod over everything that makes this country great, just to invade and occupy Iraq.

And it pisses me off. I’m a little on edge. I may be ranting here for a while.