overseen in Ann Arbor, plus

[fflo]

bumper sticker this a.m.

Gawwwwd. Is it just me, or is that especially stupid? And I'm all "To the left, to the left" myself. I think it's largely the offensiveness of figurative meaning (and quite fuzzy there, at best) without any literal one that makes any damn sense. Nothing of what left? What the fork are you talking about, couplet?

My smugness is only reinforced by the blurb (at the site peddling the thing) calling it a "soon-to-be-famous slogan."


So, what do you think it means when you hate your horoscope so much you want to decide you're not really going to play that game any more but you then think that must mean it's exactly what you need to hear?

[Poll #973113]

Mr./Ms. Coin is what my old friend called the coin-for-flipping he kept in his pocket. It was "Mr." when it was a Kennedy half dollar (or fifty-cent piece, as 'twas commonly called); it was "Ms." when Suzie B. came on the scene.

The sweet thing about his coin-flipping protocol was that, faced with two choices he couldn't otherwise seem to decide between, he'd pull out Mr. or Ms., assign values to heads and tails, flip, look, and THEN---here's the variant---assess how he felt when the decision had thus been "made" for him by the coin. Was he bummed? Slightly disappointed? Or was he ready to accept that outcome with relative ease, or even a suddenly-found sense of being pleased with the result? So then, realizing (better) his own desires, he'd do what he (now realized he) wanted. A coin flip, for him, didn't make the decision: it just helped him get at what he really wanted. Or at, sometimes, his genuine indifference---in which case he's just go with whatever Ms./Mr. Coin wanted.

The problem with horoscopes that way is that they have more of an implication of what's right or best being located, at least somewhat, outside yourself. Which I'm afraid I believe it is (at least somewhat). Damn it all to hell. (Oh, as IF, Lisa, anyway...)

I'm pretty sure I'm over time on this break. I was just gonna write about that bumper sticker.

Comments

[fflo.livejournal.com]

it bothers me most that there's something crappily-put about it, masquerading as cleverly-put

the self-satisfied thing--- well, that's true for most bumper stickers, and i favor bumper stickers in general, liking variety and some tiny indication of personality, or at least some words, and anyway there's the busting the could-hurt-the-value-at-resale prohibition of my father (you shoulda seen him go off at the 1880 Train when they bumperstickered everybody in the parking lot)... lefty self-satisfaction in A2 is a special flavor of yuck---or set of flavors, many of which taste like "yuck", like the variety of unsavory jelly beans in barf, booger, and whatever other flavors they make those. (is there a "poo"?)

i need to get out of town for a while sometime before a whole lot more A2 time in a row

[vjsmom.livejournal.com]

the could-hurt-the-value-at-resale prohibition of my father (you shoulda seen him go off at the 1880 Train when they bumperstickered everybody in the parking lot)

Sounds like my dad at this little amusement park called Fantasy Land.

i need to get out of town for a while

Where did you have in mind to go? I have an idea for you.