Post Hoc Emo Procter Hoc

I had to go into the office today for the first time in forever. On the 405 north going past Long Beach airport, I was punching buttons on the stereo and U2’s “New Year’s Day” came on. It’s a song I half-like; overplayed, but nice noises. I was thinking how overblown and crummy Bono’s lyrics were. Just as he sang the line “this is the Golden Age, and gold is the reason for the wars we wage”, one of the Air Force’s gigantic new C-17 Globemaster III transport planes loomed out of the haze over me as it left the Boeing facility at the airport, headed out to sea. Soon it will be lugging tanks and guns and scared 19-year-olds to Iraq. Nice MTV moment there, O Demiurge.

My ID card didn’t work at the office and we all made Logan’s Run jokes. Then after some meeting stuff we had a lunch meeting at the Buggy Whip. This is an ancient steakhouse near the L.A. airport that is stuck in 1962. It’s cave dark inside, red leather booths, old waitresses with whisky ‘n’ cigarettes voices. I ate Florida Stone Crab Claws, salad with Green Goddess dressing, and a 22 oz. porterhouse steak with mashed potatoes and spinach. The waitress made gravelly small talk with us. My coworker H. paid since he was taking us out to celebrate his new master’s degree and thank us for covering for him during school times over the last couple years.

I also had to learn the network architecture of our New Big Thing. Fortunately my coworker J., who set all this up, is not only an excellent Internet Roadie who does the networking shit right, but he documented it all meticulously. Thank you J., even more than thank you H. for the pile of meat.

I should have stayed in L.A. and messed around at a record store or something but I came back down through two hours of Hell’s own traffic. Spent $45 on gasoline and a carwash. Went to D’s. I was miserably uncomfortable and upset, and didn’t want to be around my friends at all. I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to kill everyone or have everyone kill me. Social interaction lately is a cigarette. I need it; I light it up; and then it makes me sick and I can’t stand myself for doing it again, and I remind myself it’s bad for me and I should stop. Then I need it…

4 thoughts on “Post Hoc Emo Procter Hoc

  1. you is what you eet
    seriously –
    some of my mood swings come down to what kind of octane I’m putting in my vehicle. I take a superfood every day – usually “Miracle Greens” or “Green Vibrance” – you can pick up either at Mother’s market down the street from D’s. You could be suffering from a good ol’ fashioned American case of poor nutrition. I eat pretty well, but when I started taking this stuff my mood noticeably elevated. When I’m without the stuff, everyone loses.
    A great explanation of mood swings is in “What The Bleep Do We Know?” which is now on video if you haven’t seen it. Fascinating stuff. All about the receptors on each cell in our brain and the proteins and chemicals they crave. Oh yeah, it also explains all the mysteries of the Universe and why we’re here, but that’s just gravy.
    uhh… gravy…


    1. Re: you is what you eet
      Yeah. I’m actually on a variety of head drugs and paying attention to what I eat a lot more for medical reasons, and I no longer have 8 times daily mood swings. One thing I forgot to mention about today’s 1962 meal is that I did not eat all of it, because I don’t do that any more.
      But yeah, if I had poor nutrition I’d be dead and not just mopey.
      Mmm, gravy.


  2. Social interaction lately is a cigarette. I need it; I light it up; and then it makes me sick and I can’t stand myself for doing it again…
    I totally get that.
    Today I feel 1000% better and want nothing more than to go out dancing, hang out with my friends and go see a movie, get out of this sleepy little town and do… something. But I still have two messages to return from earlier in the week to friends that want me to call and I can’t pick up the phone.
    Let the mania begin


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