Obamboozled
On Sunday, the Democratic People's Republic of Korea (North Korea) launched a ballistic missile, a test conducted in direct violation of the paper tiger resolutions of the laughably named U.N. Security Council: "satellite"-link. On Monday, Secretary of Defense Gates announced President Obama's desire to slash spending on a missile defense system, a system designed specifically to intercept missiles exactly like that tested by the D.P.R.K. twenty-four hours earlier: recklesslink! I suppose leaving ourselves defenseless at precisely the moment our enemies are perfecting their weapons is the kind of change we can all believe in?

Welcome to the parade of horrors.

My left eye was on the fritz for much of yesterday. I've had glasses since I was twelve or thirteen, but I've never needed to wear them on a regular basis, never needed them to drive; my parents and siblings all need glasses simply to function. I haven't been to the optometrist in four or five years, since back when I was still covered by my parents' lavish G.M. medical benefits (actually Delphi medical benefits, but part of a tradition of generosity that carried over from G.M. when Delphi was spun-off), and I almost never wear my glasses. In any event, they wouldn't have helped me yesterday even had they not been sitting, where they are at this moment, in their case on my nightstand. You see (no pun intended), my eyes have very different prescriptions: my right eye is quite nearsighted, with objects beginning to become fuzzy at little more than two feet distant; my left eye used to be mildly farsighted, but I can tell that it is beginning to become slightly nearsighted, though still nearly 20/20. So, the left lens of my spectacles isn't a lens at all, just a piece of glass to provide symmetry with the corrective right-eye lens. My left eye carries the lion's share of my visual burden in everyday life.

And yesterday my left eye was on the fritz. All was well in the morning, and through the early afternoon, but around two o'clock I noticed that everything had suddenly become blurry. Or rather, 'twas quite distinct from the fuzziness of my right eye, the distortion bearing more of a resemblance to seeing double than seeing a blur. This was very disconcerting. There was nothing for it but to soldier on through the afternoon, and I assure you that I could still see quite well enough to drive. I went to church in the evening and made my confession as I'd planned before the ocular issue arose (the last chance for the Sacrament of Reconciliation before Good Friday), taking the opportunity during the forty-five minute wait to ask the Lord God for the strength to make a good and true confession, and to restore my vision if He saw fit. If I may sing my own praises for a moment, I was quite please with how I handled the initial realization in the afternoon. I experienced a fleeting moment of near-panic, but then my mind calmed down as advised patience. All might be right as rain, I reasoned, after a good night's sleep. I hewed to those words like a mantra whenever I felt a hint of panic creeping into my head. Before bed, after doing my penance, I asked the saints to pray for the restoration of my vision to Our Lord.

And this morning all was right as rain, and I'm left with a wee mystery*. My vision was fine, perfect by its own standards, and then it wasn't, wasn't in a specific and unvarying way I'd never before experienced. I didn't suffer a blow to the head, I wasn't poked in the eye. I'm left to wonder then if I ingested some poison or was exposed to some toxin, but if that's the case the offending substance had a curiously specific and short-lived effect.

*It's been nigh two months since The "Lolita" Mystery (10 February) and you lot seem to have given up on trying to crack the case. Say it ain't so! Tell me one of you still has the gumption to play gumshoe.

1) 10th February.
2) "Lolita" by Mustard Plug.
3) There is a girl I want to meet.
4) She is not under eighteen years of age.
5) The scene of the crime.
6) The lyrics of "Lolita."

Science!
I could resist, but why? The thirteen-year-old boy who lives inside every man will be sniggering about this for hours: this blows.

Science!

The Rebel Black Dot Songs of the Day
Sufjan Stevens, "All Good Naysayers, Speak Up! Or Forever Hold Your Peace!" from Michigan (T.L.A.M.)

Commentary: I've been disappointed by the lack of "And if anyone should have good cause to oppose this union, speak now or forever hold your peace" at the wedding I've attended, but, by Jove, it'll be part of the ceremony when I wed The Last Angry Bride. And if you've got something to say, you'd better speak up!

Dienstag, 7 April
The Mighty Mighty Bosstones, "Last Dead Mouse" from Don't Know How to Party (T.L.A.M.)

Commentary: I can scarcely describe how jaw-droppingly surprised I was to hear "Last Dead Mouse" during C.B.S.'s broadcast of the N.C.A.A. championship game on Monday. It makes sense, sure, because no two things go together so well as North Carolina and Michigan State vying for one of the major sports championships of 2009 and a 1993 song about a mentally disturbed man trying to sell, literally, dead mice by a now-defunct ska band from Boston than only ever had one hit single? Actually, I just figured somebody behind the scenes at C.B.A. Sports has great taste.

"Last dead mouse, but I'll get more.
I'm a business man and an entrepreneur.
Folks say I'm nuts, they can say what they please,
You gotta be crazy with prices like these.
Low overhead so I can keep down the cost,
I make my own hours 'cuz I'm my own boss,
I believe in my product, I love what I sell,
'Last dead mouse,' (garbled) that's what I yell!"