In which I deliberate

Early voting just opened for the Indiana primaries yesterday, and as someone who tries his damnedest to never actually vote on Election Day, I probably ought to figure out who I’m voting for.  My Senator is an incumbent and I won’t be voting in the Republican primary to choose his opponent, so the big race is for my Congressional district, to oust the rather odious Jackie Walorski.  Here are the choices:

I have made a decision in the last couple of years: I am dead tired of voting for white men in situations where I have another choice.  I’m sure Mel Hall is perfectly fine and save some sort of disastrous scandal or something like that I’ll very likely vote for him if he wins the primary (possibly important: I have not seen a single speck of polling and have no idea who the frontrunner might be) but I have two non-white-men choices up there and I’m for damn sure picking one of them in the primary.  The only question is which one, and I think in between taking the boy to school tomorrow morning and my dentist appointment (just a cleaning this time, no more pulling teeth) I’m going to read some transcripts of the last couple of primary debates and pick myself a Congresscritter. I think given the current political climate any of the three of them ought to be able to unseat Walorski– my district was reliably Democratic until recent redistricting pulled in a healthy chunk of the more Republican rural areas outside of South Bend, and there are still more than enough Democrats here to get one of us elected if we show up.

Entertaining sidenote: Mrs. Hackett is a married lesbian.  My mayor is a gay man, engaged to be married soon.  I would like to submit that if we send Pat Hackett to Congress, South Bend, Indiana immediately gets to claim the title of the gayest place in America.  I would love to know if there’s anywhere else in the country that can claim that both their mayor and their Congressperson are gay.  Somehow, I doubt there is.

My next post won’t be about Twitter

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…but still.  Five and a half million people.  That’s ridiculous.  It has slowed down considerably; I suspect that it’ll eventually top six million but it will probably take quite a while to do it.

In the meantime, I’m going to sleep soon, because the last several days have been exhausting and work has been ridiculous lately.  Before I go, some random facts:

  • Cardi B’s new album ain’t bad;
  • I am now up to two podcasts that I listen to regularly– Lore and Pod Save the People– and two that are very new and on “you need to improve but for now I like you” status– Our Opinions Are Correct, which is Charlie Jane Anders and Annalee Newitz’ podcast about science fiction, and Mass for Shut-Ins, which is the guy from Gin and Tacos doing his thing except not quite as insufferable as usual.  Both are on like their third or four episodes and are clearly still ironing out formatting stuff and technical issues, so they’re a bit choppy right now– but check them out.
  • I’m reading Justina Ireland’s Dread Nation, which is post-Civil-War zombie fun.  Check it out.
  • I kinda want to make my own podcast because they seem fun but hell if I know what I’d ever talk about.

That is all, g’night.

Still going (update)

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…so, about nine hours later, another 1.6 million impressions, or nearly two hundred thousand views per hour.  Completely ridiculous.

Oh, and a couple of people alerted me to this bit of nonsense, which also happened:

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That’s on Instagram, and I’ve been told it was cross-posted to Facebook as well, both with a goddamn “people for Bernie” watermark smacked next to my name and Grond’s face.  I do not approve.  I am very much not a Person for Bernie.  I’m not gonna do anything about it (I thought about posting “I voted for Hillary” in the comments and didn’t) and at this point I’m more entertained by it than anything else, but they could at least have put that asshole’s name next to the first tweet and not mine.

25,000 impressions while I was typing this short post, by the way.  This thing isn’t going away for a bit, yet.

In which I am viral

So yesterday morning I wrote a nine-word snarky response to a tweet from the MIT Tech Review.  I write two or three dozen tweets in more or less exactly the same tone as this one every week.

It appears to have hit a nerve.

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To put this in perspective, this tweet, in barely over a day, has now reached over three times as many people as this entire blog has in the entirety of its existence.  And now that the western hemisphere is starting to wake up again it’s starting to speed up from the 2,000-impressions-per-minute pace that it kept up while I was asleep last night.  I think I’ve probably got a solid day at least before it starts slowing down so I imagine it’ll double those numbers.

I’d kind of prefer that the most popular thing I’ve ever written be a blog post or, God forbid, a book, but it’s still fun watching the numbers go psychotic.  And the ratio is unreal, so I’m not getting a ton of responses relative to the numbers and 98% of them have been supportive.  Not like I have time to notice anybody to argue with them, at any rate.

On my new face and my stupid brain

IMG_7057I realized a couple of weeks ago that I was out of date for a new prescription for my glasses, both in the strict calendrical sense and in the fact that I can tell my current glasses aren’t quite cutting it any longer.  I’ve been weird about eye doctors since moving back to my hometown; the guy who took over for my original (birth to age 26 or so) eye doctor after he passed away was a bit of a brusque ass; the dude after him was fine personally but his office sucked, and a new optometry practice just opened up a couple of miles away from my house.  So time for a new eye doctor for this visit, and time for a new face, too.  I wanted, in the abstract, a new look, something radically different from the style of my last several pairs of virtually-identical frames.

Hah.

So here is a thing about me that I hadn’t realized:  despite the fact that I’ve had glasses on my face for damn near every single day since second grade (there were a couple of detours into contact lenses that didn’t stick) I apparently don’t actually want to see glasses when I look at my face.  My preferred style for years now has been to have no frames on the lower part of the lenses, and I found myself quickly gravitating toward “screw-mount,” or frameless, glasses.  The pair I ended up with is in that picture up there; on my face, they’re nearly invisible.

(Don’t ask why I didn’t get a selfie.  I’m not a millennial.  I didn’t think of it.)

And I discovered two other things about myself, one of which kind of alarms me and both of which deserve a bit more personal interrogation:  1) it turns out that I don’t actually have any idea how to distinguish “frames for women” from “frames for men,” beyond obvious considerations of the size of the damn things, and 2) my first thought, upon putting anything more substantial than the frameless or half-frame look on my face, was almost always “Man, these look really gay.”

To be clear, we’re talking about frames like this:

Okay, this whole post just fell apart, because in my attempt just now to find a “not gay” pair of men’s glasses, I initially grabbed a picture of Zachary fucking Quinto, who is actually gay.  

Sigh.

Anyway, point is, under on-someone-else’s-face circumstances, I don’t think these glasses look gay:

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Nor these, and yes, I did deliberately look for a picture of Clark Kent:

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..which, goddamn, are those the same glasses?  Has Zachary Quinto played Superman?  Maybe he should.  The point is it is exceedingly rare for me to look another man’s glasses and think that his glasses make him look gay.

But if you take those same glasses and put them on my face, all the sudden what I see is this:

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(That’s Leo, from season six of Worst Cooks in America, and probably a bunch of other places but that’s where I first encountered him.  He’s hilarious.  And he can rock whatever look he wants.  I cannot.)

Anyway, point is, that’s weird, right?  I am, under normal circumstances, sufficiently secure in my sexuality, or at least I thought I was, and while my wife will probably be able to come up with a counterexample, I can’t really come up with any other times where I’ve rejected an entire genre of apparel because it “made me look gay.”  But, shit, that was the reaction to every single pair where the frames were actually visible, and it was immediate.  Like, what the hell, brain?  Where did that little bit of internalized homophobia come from, and how do we beat the shit out of it?

I probably ought to just buy the thickest pair of brightly colored glasses I can find and make myself wear them until I don’t give a shit anymore.