Getting the date right

It's hard to pin down exactly when the United States passed the point of no return and fell into irremediable idiocy.

Was it the day someone first used "prank" as a verb? Did it happen when "I'm OK, You're Okay" hit the bookstores? Or the day we began to watch the Loud family on TV? Was it when the country voted Bush in for the second time? I want to know the exact date and time when we lost all our hopes and dreams. It seems we should note it down somewhere, maybe file it or put it in a history book or something. I could at least list it here on the blog.

But so many events could have begun the cascade. When do you think the collapse began in earnest?

Even the Red Sox are doing it!

I was happy to see a story about the Red Sox making an "It Gets Better" video. Yay, my team's doing it. Now if only the Mets would jump in. We need major sports teams to come out for gay people and say bullying is uncool. Who knows? This may make a big difference. Anyway, I'm proud of my guys. Way to go!

Now, about those other teams. Ready to step up, fellas? Now's the time. (PS: The Cubs did one too.)

Here's my entry, by the way.

I need some help

There is a gay male character in one of my books and he's always saying things are "faaaaaabulous!"

The problem is that it's the year 2030. Would a gay man speak like this 20 years in the future? It doesn't seem likely, does it? I mean, he might do it for a retro thrill but there would probably be some wonderful new word that gay people use with a sense of style and fun and exaggeration.

I need suggestions. It's 2030 and you're a gay man. What word would you use in a gay, campy way? This one's got me stumped. Any thoughts?

The pool at the St. George Hotel

In the good old days, New Yorkers had a slew of great beaches they could visit in the summer. But for die-hard, concrete-loving, stay-in-the-city types, there was also an option -- the pool at the St. George Hotel in Brooklyn.

I found this image at brooklynhistory.org but I must confess, I don't remember it being quite that grand or being filled with salt water. It was nice, mind you, maybe even very nice but I don't remember the high ceiling or balconies. I was young; perhaps I forgot. In any case, it was a great pool and one of my uncles was a lifeguard there for a time. His name was Jim O'Connor and he looked very cute in his official bathing suit and whistle.

Back in the day, smoking cigarettes was both accepted and expected. I remember that there was a recessed area right by the pool, a "room" where you could smoke. It was tiled and had tiled seats along the walls so it was sort of a steam room without the steam, featuring an open doorway through which you could see the exciting goings-on at the pool. And it did seem exciting at all times. This wasn't just a pool, it was the pool at the St. George Hotel. Posh.

Inside the smoking area I remember that they had small, recessed cubbyholes right by the door, each just the right size to hold a pack or two of cigarettes and your lighter. No one stole in the old days. Anyway, with all the insane smoking laws going into effect everywhere these days, I thought it might be nice to revisit this lovely, civilized convenience -- a genteel, poolside smoking area.

I don't smoke now but I did back then and it was very nice indeed to smoke at the St. George Hotel pool. 

A Sunday music find

I just ran across this gorgeous video of Sungha Yung. This is a song called "Missing You" that he wrote when he was 11. It was his first composition. Apparently he wrote the song for a guitarist friend.

It's incredible.

My plate is a little different from theirs

I haven't eaten a piece of fruit in at least 20 years. It doesn't seem to matter. If you'd like to follow me down this slippery slope, be sure to take your vitamins every day and you'll probably be fine. Maybe. In any case, it doesn't seem to have hurt me and I didn't have to eat twenty years worth of fruit! It's like the bonus you get from being an atheist: you get to sleep on Sunday mornings! Hooray! No mass, no fruit! Life is very, very good.

No fruit, no gods and lots of espresso -- it's how we roll here at the Worlds Blog.

My nephew's favorite group

The younger of my two nephews introduced me to this song. He loves Empire of the Sun. I don't think much of the video but I like the song. See what you think.

Mmmmmm, baseball!

Embiggens, if prodded.

I love to visit MLB's Probable Pitchers page. It's sheer delight. All those games, all those pitchers, all that fun!

When I get to the page, I'm like a fat person with a fabulous, new menu to peruse. It's smorgasbord time. Rich, that's how it makes me feel: rich!

Take this game. Last night the Mets came back from a 7-0 deficit to win the game 9-8. It was great! And look at this matchup. I love Niese, the Mets pitcher, and Derek Lowe is a fine opponent. And coming after that come-from-behind win, it's gotta be magic. Gotta!

I'm so glad I found baseball. Who knew it was this great?

Thoughts of Joplin

I keep thinking about the awful memories that must be stored in the minds of the HS kids who graduated in Joplin the night of the tornado. Like you, I've seen the videos of that high school ceremony held just before hell broke loose.

It's such a nightmarish juxtaposition: the joyous graduation and the tornado, almost in one breath. And of course the idea that one of them was killed that night after the ceremony will always haunt them.

Memories can be debilitating. I hope it's not that way for this group of kids. Sometimes you can find strength in adversity. I hope that's the way it works out for them, and that they get the support they need. May they survive and build strong lives despite (and perhaps even because of) the damn tornado.

And doesn't it seem odd that I'm commenting on something that happened way, way, way back in the past -- like more than a day ago? The disasters mount and we forget them so quickly. It almost seems out-of-synch to refer to a past disaster. They're gone and we've moved on to the next ones, which seem always to be waiting in the wings. This is a strange state of affairs and the horrible thing is that we're getting used to it.

Thinking without language

Baboon, National Geographic

I found an interesting article on physorg. It's called "Monkeys might be more logical than we think". Here's an excerpt:

The implications of these findings are broader than the lives of baboons. Says Fagot: “The real question is ‘What is thinking without language?’” Without words, can creatures process the things they see and accomplish cognitively challenging tasks? These brand-new findings, he says, “suggest there is thinking without language.”

I've wondered about this over the years. It seems to me we often think without language. It's not like we're constantly talking to ourselves while we're alone. We simply do things and think of things and words don't enter the picture -- at least, at times. The question is: can we do something mentally challenging without words? Is that possible? It's interesting to consider, isn't it? (And no, math doesn't apply. It has its own language.)

So tell me. Do you think in words all the time? And does this extend to complicated tasks?