Sex, Politics, and Overcast Skies

This morning came early, with me feeling feverish, and with sore throat, and generally feeling crappy, at 2:30 am. Couldn't get to bed until 4:30, over which time I spent writing general notes on a prospective piece concerning an imagined photograph of a hand grenade along with a pomegranate. It made sense at the time, and, not having my notes, I'm hoping it will make sense later. After my class, during which various freshmen succeeded to varying degrees to stay awake whilst talking about Dostoevsky. Once class was finished I spoke to some about their sleepiness and that I will be counting students absent if they sleep whilst in class. I didn't use "whilst" in conversing with them, but they got the point. At least one high point was someone coming up to me afterwards asking whether all of Dostoevsky was like Notes from Underground--his stuff seemed relevant well past the time in which it was written. Hearing that from just one student is making the teaching of this book worthwhile. Next semester I hope to do a better job at setting this book up and discussing it to better effect in class.

Once I was settled down after getting back to my office, I headed to the Lafayette side to get some breakfast at a local diner, where the post-Matins crowd had gathered for eggs and hashbrowns. One of the off-duty priests came in, and asked, in passing, just who they thought was going to be president; whether there was any hope of someone other than Hillary. Conversation was rather reserved, but, as I perked my ears up to get the dirt on local politics, I heard "Evan Bayh--I'd vote for him...He's a heartthrob."

Really. After all this mess, is that still how people are voting--off the ballot and based on looks and personality? I was hoping after all this, with thousands of lives lost and billions and billions of dollars down the pike that the age of voting for someone that seems like a good person to have a beer with was long past. I'll admit I entertained similar thoughts when Perot was running--he was wacky and seemed he'd be someone to add an element of fun to politics. I've grown older and wiser since.
When the "gals" turned the tables and asked the priest what he thought about the upcoming election, he said that he thought hillary would be the next president, but didn't like her. "She strikes me as a very emotional, angry person." Not quite sure where that's coming from. Having listened to her, I'm still trying to figure that out. Angry? I'm trying to figure out how that sizes up with threatening war with Iran and discussions on doubling the size of Guantanamo. I guess it's all a matter of perception.

I found out yesterday that Annie Lennox had a new CD out, and it turns out to have the world's worst title: Songs of Mass Destruction. The title wasn't at all promising, indicating a full-out awful political album, and, much as I like Annie Lennox, I don't want George W. to be the basis for a Lennox album. Thankfully only two songs are preachy, but that is two songs too many unless one is willing to go out and do Baez-style protesting. and even that, inthis day and age, is unlikely to do much. and flagwaving former hippies in this bar playing the Doors on the jukebox aren't helping my view on this much.
I'd be in a better mood, but it's Jane Eyre weather outside. Cloudy, dark, bleak drizzle-piss coldness, with a really shitty waitress to top things off. Honestly. If I'm going so far as to typing most of this blog entry on a laptop at an 8-top table (which is where the outlet is), after waving hello to her and most of the townies sitting at the bar, we've got a problem.