Babs puts the smack down on optimism! You know I love this because I've never believed in the power of positive thinking. I think Ehrenreich's thesis boils down to my personal mantra: prefer to be miserable and you will never be disappointed.
So, I'm walking in the woods last weekend, and thinking how nice the solitary life is (read lonely), and I'm walking by empty campsite after empty campsite, and I say to myself (since there is no one else to talk to) that these campsites must be enjoying the solitary life as well, but then I have a sudden epiphany (not my second cousin) that there used to be a rowdy bunch of people, who, shushed people for a living, that were actually onced shushed by Ranger Bob, and the thought occurred to me that perhaps, just perhaps, someday, some how, some way, that group could be brought back together, reunited as it were, to bring information to the very trees, upon which a lifetime of information is written and then distributed to the masses, if only this were possible, then as suddenly as the thought came, it dissipated with the forest mist, and I continued upon the path alone.
Honestly. The leader of the free world.
From the WaPo today: "...all those adults walking around in Crocs, going on about how comfortable they are, look like overgrown children. They are like the workday Peter Pans who carry backpacks in the city. Not grown-up leather backpacks, but the kind made of nylon with water bottles stuck inside a web of bungee cords and a canister of Bear Be Gone hanging off the side. They have mistaken their walk to the office for a climb to the summit of the Grand Tetons. Why, oh why, must people assimilate perfectly reasonable, functional and cheeky sports attire into street clothes?"
Did I already blog about this? I might have. Apologies. It's just that every time I see those stupid, privileged, misbehaving, all-noblesse-and-no-oblige First Twins in the news for their antics or for their "accomplishments," my blood pressure heats up and the words on my computer screen get all blurry and red. So I'm sharing my rage with you, friends. Check out the dumb cover of the stupid book that Jenna Bush "wrote" based on her "work" with UNICEF. And here's the description on Amazon. There's no link to submit a review yet, but when the book comes out this fall, I'm going to write a doozy.
Can we all agree, as new librarians (employed or not), that none of us will waste a collection development dime on this drivel? I'm not talking about censorship--I may even read this piece of crap book just to make myself miserable for an afternoon--I'm just saying that asshole First Twins with trust funds financed by torture, minority subjugation, and environmental annihilation (to name just a few offenses) shouldn't be allowed to exploit the narratives of people victimized by their father and grandfather in order to make a buck (I don't care if she's going to donate the profits; it's blood money) or to improve their reputations. Thanks, yo.
