Crushing Krisis

Comic Books, Drag Race, & Life in New Zealand

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Waking up early reminds me of my old homes and of high school. How i used to be so sleepy that i couldn’t imagine moving, let alone showering or eating or walking to the car, but i knew that i didn’t have a choice. Being the first student into my high school at 6:59 just as they turned off our industrial strength alarm, and wandering the empty halls up to my homeroom where i would lay my head against the cool black surface of my lab table and drift off until other people began to drift in a half hour later.

Being adult about something is so jarring, so unusual. I make a decision that i know doesn’t make me happy, but it makes sense, and i wonder how i ever learned to do that. This morning at twenty to seven i could’ve just turned the lock on my door and went back to bed – ignoring the imminent calls of Lindsay and Kate for me to join the early edition of our car pool. I wanted to sleep another hour. I want to sleep another hour right now. But i didn’t, and i’m still not; i am here at work marveling that i am getting anything done despite the cobwebbed haze of sleep that is still shrouding my consciousness hours later.

There’s something about responsibility. There is something about appreciating it more, and also something about knowing what’s important. But, i sometimes still forget to differentiate between things that are important to do and things that are important to me.

In other news, i defragmented my hard drive, devirginized my new blender, and bought two really sexy shirts for $20 at the newly (and inexplicably) renamed Express For Men. How Have You Been?

https://www.crushingkrisis.com/2002/08/85322298/

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Randomness.

Lindsay and i have far-ranging discussions from eight to eleven in the morning. Our words lilt out to the tune of folk music and classic rock as we alternatingly bag, scan, sing, bag, scan, sing. I am unafraid of saying things to Lindsay now; although i know she still has the ability to be upset about something i say, i also know that it will ultimately not change our friendship.

There is this: a step towards striking “Under God” from the Pledge of Allegiance and the immediate backlash against it. Religion seems to be playing into this issue a lot more than Strict Constitutionalism, and i suppose that if we have to define Lindsay is a lapsed Catholic and i’m an Amendment-clutching agnostic. And we, apparently (though not shockingly), have differing opinions on the pledge of Allegiance.

As a sensible American who enjoys upholding the actual text of the Constitution, i have never supported the mention of God in the Pledge. For those of you still ignorant to how it got there, NO, it wasn’t in the original pledge. Not by a longshot. In fact, it was adopted in 1954. Yes, that’s right, while one of my parents was alive. Without ever having known this, i refrained from reciting the pledge for most of High School, but now i see that i wasn’t just another young punk flouting the will of the administration. Lindsay seems to think my idea is crazy, but we’ll get to that in a minute.

Ninth Circuit Judge Alfred T. Goodwin, who wrote the presiding opinion, stated that “A profession that we are a nation ‘under God’ is identical, for Establishment Clause purposes, to a profession that we are a nation ‘under Jesus,’ a nation ‘under Vishnu,’ a nation ‘under Zeus,’ or a nation ‘under no god,’ because none of these professions can be neutral with respect to religion.” Indeed. Many might note that we have God’s name on our money, for god’s sake, so why make a big deal about the pledge. However, the bone of contention isn’t merely the mention of God – at least, not legally. In fact, it’s all about implementation.

According to the court, upon President Eisenhower signing the legislation that inserted he wrote that “millions of our schoolchildren will daily proclaim in every city and town, every village and rural schoolhouse, the dedication of our nation and our people to the Almighty.” Not because he wanted it to be consistent with our money. Not to be consistent with all the flowery language about “Nature’s God” in the Declaration. No. Not for any of those reasons, but because in 1954 President Eisenhower thought that it would be a good idea for every child to be reminded of God – his “Almighty” – every morning in homeroom. Not Zeus. Not Vishnu. Not Satan, god help us. God. The God. You know which one i mean.

Says the court: “The Pledge, as currently codified, is an impermissible government endorsement of religion because it sends a message to unbelievers ‘that they are outsiders, not full members of the political community, and an accompanying message to adherents that they are insiders, favored members of the political community.'” While that might be a little excessive, personally i think he’s got to go. God, that is. Either that, or we need to make a clearer and more pertinent phrasing of the original 1954 law to make it clear what God’s purpose is in the phrasing.

Lindsay seems to disagree. She voices the opinion, shared by many, that God is a small thing to be squabbling about right now. The divisiveness introduced by an argument over something that is at once so trivial and yet so vital is exactly the sign that we aren’t the country we need to be. My response is that our country is built upon the foundations of inclusiveness and Constitutionality, and to suspend that just because we’re involved in a greater conflict is a sign of how weak we truly are. Unfortunately, my labeling us as already weak and divided apparently undermines my argument solely on the fact that i am just not patriotic enough in the first place. Which is probably true. However, i’m sure there are plenty of bright young patriots out there who have actually read the establishment clause and can see that this is an issue of constitutional interpretation … not of lapsed nationalism and atheistic ideals.

*sigh* … back to work i go. I’m sure you can find a better news source than me for more on this story – it should be interesting to watch both political parties swallow all of their stances on interpretation as they attempt to rectify this very real inconsistency between amendment and law. I say we shouldn’t vote any of them back into office.

https://www.crushingkrisis.com/2002/08/85304687/

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At first I thought that i was hungry. Two in the morning, lying on my back on top of the covers thinking that maybe, perhaps, i was hungry.

There was definitely a sensation of roiling unease in my stomach, and i had definitely jogged two miles between the last time i ate and the moment i resignedly turned to my side and pulled the covers over my midriff. I could go have a snack if i really wanted to, but i was already dangerously close to staying up for an entire twenty-four hours. I didn’t relish the idea of doing it twice in one week. I would eat in the morning.

I wasn’t hungry. The bowl of Cheerios stared back at me, scores of tiny unwinking eyes returning my blank gaze. Never a blink. Probably wondering why i poured them in the first place. The spoon and i were like a assembly line machine, working with deliberation rather than care to finish one task and move on to the next. I finished unenthusiastically, my stomach still adrift. I wasn’t hungry.

I claim to be immune to stage fright, but having a big mouth doesn’t equal star potential. In fact, it can be exactly the opposite. Lately, our entire apartment and all of our significant others (oh, and Ernie) have become hooked on Fox’s American Idol. Somehow the show avoids the nauseating generic pop culture that most other Star-Making programs of late have engaged in, instead opting to lead with the contestants and their voices. On each show they sing a song… they can dance or smile if they want to, but really they’re just there to sing. Live. In front of over 10 million viewers. For the chance to be a superstar.

Lindsay and i are invariably amongst the first people into our building on Wednesday mornings, and as we both delve through endless boxes of records we talk about what songs we would choose to sing on teevee. Underneath all the laughter and bragging, i know that i wouldn’t make it. Even with the quality of my voice left wholly aside, i know that i could never walk out on stage and stand still – knowing that a number of eyes beyond my ability to count were on me. And so i settle for watching, for being nervous on their behalf, and for dreaming about being in their midst.

Blogathon is not a top rated teevee show… last year my hits for the 24 hours were in the thousands, but people who actually listened to my songs were probably only in the tens. However, this year looks like it’s shaping up to be a lot bigger than last year, and i really have no way of predicting how many people will visit my page or listen to what i have chosen to invest: a dozen of my most valuable possessions – my songs – plus another dozen covers of some of my popular favorites. In three days they will appear, one per hour, for thousands of people to sample and form opinions on. And my stomach is aflutter. 72 whopping hours left until i have to go live with my my first song and i already want to duck out the stage door and either be sick or hide.

Elise pointed out i have to record a song every three hours to get all 25 of them done by Saturday morning. I would like to point out that thanks to two very generous pledges i have now raised as much money for Planned Parenthood as i have spent on recording equipment for Saturday. Which is now 71 hours away.

I think i might be hungry, but i’m not sure. Back to work.

https://www.crushingkrisis.com/2002/07/85277890/

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How much do you need people?



This time last year i would have said that i didn’t need them at all. Just healed from the immediate wounds of a messy breakup, totally alienated from all of my theatre friends, and actively looking to sublet over the summer rather than stay in my cramped one room apartment. In those moments, i would have told you that i hardly needed anyone except for myself.


I would have been right … at the time. At the time i was so wrapped up in my own personal mythology that i didn’t have time to relate it back to more than one or two other people. I was fine – not at my happiest, but fine. But, in the year between then and now, everything changed. People who i didn’t see more than a handful of times a month are now my most reliable friends. I hadn’t even seen the three people i am most inclined to tell my secrets to once last June. I am in love with someone who i hadn’t even contemplated at the time. And, equally inexplicably, i am happy. Really fucking happy.

The only problem is that with these people there comes responsibilities. I have to find the time to see them, I have to keep their secrets, i have be there for them. And, i cannot burn the bridges i’ve built to them as carelessly as i blazed similar paths this time last year. I’ve gained stability but at the price of disposablity, and now that i’m standing up so strongly i’m loathe to sacrifice any of the balance they’ve provided.

Bleh, some people get cigarette breaks, i get blog breaks. Back to work.

https://www.crushingkrisis.com/2002/06/85197727/

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What do you think an eBusiness’s worst nightmare would be? Actually, i’ve been involved in two over the course of the last 24 hours so, by all means, let me share. First, you should know your worst nightmares by type. There’s the illusionary worst nightmares, which paralyze you in fear but have no bearing on your business. Then, there’s the Sisyphean nightmares that totally cripple a single aspect of your operation by rendering it useless. And, finally, a global nightmare – which is basically like living in some sort of eTwilight-Zone.

Yesterday was my first post-tonsil day back at work, and when i arrived i was greeted by a daunting task: someone had ordered over $2,000 of rock records, and it was my job to swiftly pull them and prepare them for shipping. Of course, swiftly is a relative concept when you have to individually track down over two hundred records, but i attacked the task with as much enthusiasm as i could muster. Meanwhile, my supervisors were at once ecstatic and suspicious of the fortuitous turn of events. But, everything checked out: the billing address matched the credit card, the shipping address matched the billing address, the credit card company enthusiastically approved the charge, and we even spoke to a real live person at the contact number provided with the order. How could it possibly be bogus?

Well, it was, and i can’t even explain it because no one’s taken the time to explain it to me, but after spending almost a solid eight-hour day getting this order together i’ll be spending another day tomorrow integrating it back into our inventory. And, while everyone’s pretty pissed about someone trying to scam us, no one actually spent more than a few minutes working on the actual order other than me, so i’m really pissed. Thus, the Sisyphean nightmare.


The specific nightmare was more dramatic, and even more annoying. Lindsay and i got to work this morning a whole twenty minutes before 9AM, hoping to spend a short day in the office. However, when i flicked the light switch in our room nothing happened. I found this to be especially strange because our lighting is florescent and copious … not the sort of thing that burns out. We chalked it up to random strangeness and headed into the warehouse, only to find it similarly cloaked in darkness. Just then, one of the owners grumped down the hallway and muttered to us “power’s out, working on it.”

Yes, the power. Out. Not in the whole building, mind you. Not in the hallways, or the kitchen, or in the office of our webdesign unit. Oh no. Just in our offices. Which meant no light for shelving, no orders being printed, no fans to blow cool air on the network servers, and no servers to be blown at. Our webpage is served externally, so we weren’t totally out of commission, but the eight of us that eventually turned up for work could only drink coffee and alphabetize in the hallway for four hours before our electrician glibly informed us that he fixed the problem (before being reamed out by the IT person in charge of our in-house servers).

So, if you thought internet outages and being out of ink were the worst of eBusiness’s worries, think again. And don’t think that anything that happens is easily fixed by specialized problem solvers like the ones in that never-ending IBM ad campaign, either. No multinational fortune 500 company can protect you from your electrician randomly flipping breakers, and no amount of fraud protection can protect you from bogus orders that aren’t really fraud.


And now, back to enjoying the ceiling lights.

https://www.crushingkrisis.com/2002/06/85180314/