Not Ends 2

The basic rub between relative and universal morality is that relative morality is true, but universal morality is actually useful.

San Francisco hosts a hell of a tea party.

I'm convinced that bars never make drinks with headspace not because it's a bad idea, but because they always want to illustrate how generous of pours they give. If I spill my drink (as I have done many times sober) I am going to blame the bar from now on.

People who say analyzing poetry robs it of its soul are either reading shitty poetry or are doing a shitty job of reading it.

If in my mental hierarchy I've demoted religion to the level of great art/literature, religion can content itself that I hold art in very high esteem.

It is one of the great tragedies and ironies of modern society that smart, educated people so often take their understanding of religion from idiots, and in so doing succumb to ignorant, destructive zealotry.

The best thing about making playlists for other people is that afterwards I get to listen to the playlist too.

The only real difference between recorded music and live music is that with live music the audience is holding onto every note like it will be lost forever.

Sexuality isn't nearly so tidy as we wish, which is why we spend so much time sweeping it under the rug.

Every person in every culture spends a lot of time sweeping-- make no mistake, it differentiates us from the dogs and truly free love is a damnable lie.
 
Generalization is fundamental to all thought.

California Cajun Gumbo

My dad left Louisiana long ago, never turning back after he left for college. Except for pronouncing the word "cord" as "card" he has lost his accent, but he has carried his Cajun heritage with him in the form of his gumbo. He doesn't make it very often and, as I will explain later, his gumbo is not precisely by-the-book. Rather, it is a subtly innovative and rather excellent version of that famous, heavy, and piquant soup. When I say "California Cajun Gumbo", I mean the gumbo style that my dad, my sister and I make. My sister and I's gumbo has begun to deviate from our dad's, but it is just a lazy/embellished take on his model. More on that later. Here is how to make his gumbo:

3 large yellow onions, diced "the size of a nickel"
3 green bell peppers, diced
4 stalks of celery, diced
1 bunch green onions, finely chopped
2-3 cups (1 bunch or less) parsley, finely chopped
2/3 jar (~1 1/2 cups) Kary's dry roux
1 lb/link of double-smoked Cajun sausage, chopped (half-inch slices)
3-5 lbs chicken thighs
paprika, cayenne, black pepper, salt, flour and vegetable oil

Serve with rice

Fill a stock pot ("gumbo pot") with roughly 2 gallons of water and bring to a boil. Foist vegetable chopping on an underling. While the water is heating, pan fry the onions in a bit of oil until they are golden brown. Add them to the pot. Brown the bell peppers the same way. Once the pot is properly boiling, turn off the heat and mix in the roux. Spend 10 minutes vigorously stirring roux, smushing clumps with the spoon and scraping the bottom of the pot (ideally, using a long metal spoon with a flat tip, or "gumbo spoon"). Turn heat back on and add the peppers and celery to the pot. Boil for 40 minutes, stirring every 5-10 minutes.

While vegetables are boiling, get out the chicken. In a large bowl, pour equal parts salt, paprika (with cayenne to taste) and black pepper (roughly 2-3 Tbsps). Eyeball three parts flour and mix ingredients together. Dredge chicken thighs in this mixture and pan fry once again in oil at high temperature. Pull them out when browned on the outside, they needn't be cooked through.

Add sausages after the vegetables have boiled for 40 minutes. Boil for another 30 minutes. Add browned chicken to the pot and boil for another 30 minutes. Pull out the chicken into a large serving bowl. Skim off fat and season to taste with red pepper, black pepper and salt. Boil the pot for another few minutes and then turn off the heat, immediately stirring in the parsley and green onions at flame out.

Serve in broad bowls, putting the rice and a piece of chicken in first, then pouring the gumbo over. Add pepper vinegar (vinegar soaked in hot peppers), tobasco, and gumbo file to taste. Enjoy!


There are many types of gumbo. The "chicken and sausage gumbo" my father makes is a subtype of the broader meat-and-roux type and is perhaps the most iconic of all Cajun dishes. My dad's version deviates from the most common Louisiana version in the following ways:

-There isn't usually any browning-- none. Dad says it's done for special occasions, like a Christmas gumbo. Frankly, Uncle Pierre seemed pretty baffled by the idea of browning everything-- it's a pain in the ass. He said some Cajuns do it, but it tends to be a family taste thing, not something done on special occasions.
-Sausage is not double-smoked, but rather single-smoked (leaving it more tender and less intense).
-Gumbo is primarily a winter dish-- a hearty soup for cold weather-- so, as my grandmother pointed out, including bell peppers isn't especially authentic to gumbo of 50 years ago, when bell peppers were only available in the summer. Bell peppers are used in Louisiana gumbos sometimes and especially in summer gumbos, but they are not considered characteristic of gumbo.
-Paprika is not used, but rather a local ground red pepper blend. The term "red pepper" is used as shorthand for both sweet and cayenne pepper.

Classic Cajun meat-and-roux gumbo, as it is made in my dad's hometown, is made with: onions, celery-and/or-parsley, smoked pork of some kind (often tasso in addition to smoked sausage), meat from bird or small game (rabbit, for instance), wet or dry roux, often garlic, definitely red pepper, black pepper and salt. It's really a pretty simple, flexible dish, and without the browning step it's not too difficult to make.

Let me return to my dad's recipe-- onions, celery and green bell peppers are the holy trinity of Cajun cuisine and are fundamental to many classic Cajun dishes-- just not gumbo. Bell peppers may be "inessential", but they've always been my favorite part of dad's gumbos, and I can't imagine a Cali gumbo without fresh peppers. The browning step really is a pain in the ass. Though it contributes to a richer and more complex flavor, gumbo made without browning is still excellent. The roux likely contributes the lion's share of browned "Maillard Reaction" flavor in either case. Paprika contributes a certain characteristic bitterness that distinguishes it from Cajun red pepper, it's bitterness complementing the relatively brittle dry roux flavor. My Louisiana family thought the idea of using paprika to be quite interesting, and I think it's an improvement. Dad uses dry roux and double-smoked sausage for ease of transport back to Cali. In Louisiana, wet roux is more authentic (dry roux must be made in an oven, which Cajuns traditionally didn't have) and it is esteemed for its richer flavor, while dry roux is considered to be the "healthy option". I actually prefer dry roux's lighter and perhaps more toasted flavor. It's also easier to make. While Cajuns love tasso and often use it in gumbo, I think we Californians generally think of tasso as second fiddle to sausage and just don't make space for it in our suitcases (after all, it's called "chicken and sausage gumbo", not "chicken and tasso").

Bri and I have been tinkering with our dad's recipe. I've found that single-smoked sausage transports just fine, though I need to use more of it to achieve the same smokiness. I've mostly dispensed with browning, though I've still been browning the onions (browned onions=drool). I'll still dredge the chicken, but I'll be substituting roux for flour so that I'm not skimping on Maillard Reaction goodness (frying breaded chicken essentially makes roux of the flour in Dad's version). I've also started to think about the trinity as a plant-family thing:
Onions- allium genus (garlic, green onions, shallots, leeks, chives)
Peppers- note that even classicist gumbo has a blend of multiple dried red peppers
Celery- umbellifer family (parsley, carrots, parsnips, cilantro, dill, fennel, cumin, lovage, angelica)

Once I thought of the Cajun holy trinity as having multiple participants on each of three "teams", it presented an opportunity to play around. I've switched in poblano (my favorite) and jalapeño peppers for bell peppers in my gumbos. Poblanos have great flavor, but I'm going to add the green bells back for their texture. It also just occurred to me that gumbo would be a great outlet for that smoked paprika I never know what to do with, and for all the interesting dried peppers available in Mexican markets. I've added parsnips to mixed effect-- two large parsnips added fantastic flavor, but introduced a perhaps inappropriate starchy sweetness. I'm going to scale back to just one parsnip. I very tentatively tried adding cilantro. There's a sweet/fenugreek quality to cilantro that worked surprisingly well. It made the gumbo taste vaguely exotic, but still discernibly Cajun. If I run across some lovage or angelica I'll try them for the same reason. They would probably work even better, but are difficult to find. I'll keep my eyes peeled-- I should be able to find dried angelica root in Chinatown. Dill or coriander sound like bad ideas, but caraway or chervil might be interesting. In all, filling out the trinity with Mexican and "northerner" ingredients has been quite rewarding and I hope my Louisiana relatives have some interest in appropriating these experiments or at least find the trinity-as-teamwork paradigm illuminating.

My gumbo has become much more vegetable-forward than Louisianan gumbo (as is only appropriate in this great state). This perhaps, in a bizarre twist of fate, moving it closer towards the "meat to give it flavoring" gumbo of the first half of the 20th century, when meat was considered a luxury.

For fellow Californians looking to make some gumbo, I have some relevant information. Any smoked sausage will work (though obviously it will add its own seasoning to the flavor, so sage-y smoked Italian sausage might be a better idea than cumin-y Mexican). Smoked paprika might also decrease your reliance on foreign sausage for that smoked flavor (who knows, possibly substituting the decreased amount of pork with bacon-grease roux). Wet roux can be made at home, by just pan cooking equal parts oil and flour until milk chocolate brown, all the while stirring like crazy to prevent it from burning (even slight burnage will ruin it). Dry roux can be made in the oven.

Remember, while this may be the most iconic, it is just one of many amazing dishes in the Cajun pantheon. I encourage everyone to check out my distant cousin Paul Prudhomme's most excellent cookbooks as a jumping off point into Cajun cuisine.

Television in the Twenty-First Century

It didn't come out of a vacuum, of course. The nineties can boast some absolutely stellar television, especially The Simpsons and Seinfeld. However, there is no denying that American television has blossomed in the twenty-first century into true art. It's no longer just a couple of shows or just the comedies that are totally leveling any conception of what could be done on the small screen anymore. American television has gone nuclear. There are shows running right now that stand up to the best of the big screen in terms of brilliance of conception and narrative, and they aren't stopping after a 90-minute run time and they're not running out of ideas. Many of them are hard to watch, but that hasn't stopped at least the dramas from receiving great ratings. Just as with the 60's when the Beatles were able to challenge their audience and still succeed commercially, the American public is keeping right up with the increasingly challenging and complex television being put in front of them.

Before you sicken from my effusive optimism, let me put some names to faces, that I might justify my premise:

Arrested Development
It may not have the overflowing genius of The Simpsons or the gentle extremism of Seinfeld, but Arrested Development stands shoulder-to-shoulder with them on its own terms. It's among the finest dramedies ever made, and certainly the funniest, and that is saying something, because the dramedy is a beautiful invention. Unlike those other two eminent comedies, Arrested Development has a cohesion of purpose and a synergy of interlocking parts that is extremely gratifying-- jokes are carried over entire seasons without dulling or misstepping. Storylines weave in and out and always complement each other. It's also just wickedly, unrelentingly funny. Oh, and something about the image of the show-house on the desolate hillside really resonates with me.

The Wire
This show epitomizes, perhaps better than any other, the extraordinary change that has occurred in television. The show is grim, demanding, proceeds at a glacial pace without ever making an explicit point, and our nation was absolutely enthralled by it. I can't think of any show from the previous century that could compare to its intricacy, subtlety and symbolic depth. It is, quite simply, a show that redefined what was possible in the medium of television. I love how McNulty sometimes comes across as, not quite two-dimensional, but flat in a way that is somehow more genuine than if he were rounded. Real people are simple at the same time they are complex. And of course Omar rocks my socks.

Mad Men
It started with a gimmick, executed with unanticipated commitment-- setting a show in history and letting the characters act culturally backwards in ways the writers knew would bother the audience, but doing so with such a light brushstroke that it felt subversively natural. The rest of the shows I discuss did things that had never been done in television before, but I'm not sure this particular twist has precedent in any medium. Of course, the show is a heck of a lot more than a gimmick. It has this uncanny way of presenting people in single moments. Just as people make all kinds of decisions in real life, Mad Men's characters can be characterized, but not anticipated. Further, their actions don't always have consequences. There isn't really any poetic justice, which turns out to be jarring as fuck. The loose treatment of character makes it nearly impossible to make moral judgements and gives a certain starkness to characters-- when they repeat a bad decision it feels excruciating. It's an intriguing approach to narrative-- almost abdicating narrative. Of course, that is more sensation than reality, as the show is tightly controlled and threads play off one another with worthy synergy. Episodes have themes, but it feels like ambiguity could swallow up anything so simple as a theme at every turn, and there is something thrilling in that. Also Joan. Sometimes I just watch for Joan.

Breaking Bad
Moral ambiguity has been the order of the day for contemporary storytelling. We are no longer content with anti-heroes. We want to see ourselves at our worst. We want to find ourselves doing genuine, unalloyed evil. Breaking Bad takes that farther than any show by following the evolution of Walter White from sympathetic victim to villain, without ever losing the thread of his humanity. The show bears an obvious resemblance to Weeds, but like the drug it's about, it is light-years more intense and dangerous. Where Weeds equivocated or intentionally delayed character progression, Breaking Bad never flinches. If anything, Breaking Bad moves faster than the audience is ready for, giving them the emotional bludgeoning they didn't even know they craved. Of course, it would be disingenuous to describe the show as being about one man's descent. Jesse and his relationship with Walt is fundamental to the show. I've heard people call Jesse the heart of the show and the moral center, and he is, but that is perhaps the most terrifying thing, because in his own way Jesse is also a monster, and unlike Walt we love him without reservations.

There are other shows that probably deserve to be among the ranks of these shows-- West Wing and the Sopranos get a lot of lip service, and in some ways Firefly was the perfect dramedy. There are also a lot of shows that could have never existed ten or fifteen years ago and betray inspiration without the same consistent brilliance as the first tier, like Dexter or Game of Thrones. I've always thought Malcom in the Middle was under-appreciated and I can't pretend to discuss the wonders of modern television without at least name dropping the TV micro-revolution that was Adult Swim. Louie has a breathtaking sincerity that is uncomfortably, unflinchingly real. There is also the holy trinity of cult comedies-- Community, Parks and Rec and 30 Rock-- whose era is finally coming to a close.

I've thought about why television experienced such a revolution around the millenium. I think some credit can be given to reality TV, whose success influenced scripted television-- most notably oh-so-influential The Office. Probably even more important, I suspect, is that DVD sales changed how TV-makers thought about television. Cohesive, broad narratives with long story arcs began to make more sense once people began watching multiple episodes in a sitting, and writers could demand greater attention and devotion from their audience. This made room for the soaring ambitions of shows like The Wire.

I'd like to end this meditation on modern TV's awesomeness by bringing it back to my friend and favorite TV blogger, Myranda, whose tireless championing of and sincere respect for television continues to inspire me. Keep fighting the good fight, Myranda.

Humans: just incredibly awesome Animals

Reading a post by my friend Rob, I couldn't help but be struck at the unwitting revelation of a sentence of his: "The paths of insensitivity and self-delusion this conceit [that humans aren't animals] has led to are so enormous, a comprehensive study of the subject would be all the human history one would need to read." The indication being, of course, that anything about human history worth knowing has involved humans acting like we weren't animals. Think about that for a minute.

I actually really love the aspiration of humans to transcend animal nature. I realize that it is an aspiration rather than a reality and that it could be viewed as a quaint ambition, but it's only quaint when you exclude from consideration all the incredible things that we have done as animals, aided by a philosophy that we are different. We are, of course, very different. No other animal has even approached our impact, our control over our surroundings, or our understanding of ourselves. We've driven more species to extinction than anything short of a natural catastrophe. I also can't think of a single species on whom so many other species are dependent-- we are the most crucial of all keystone species in this modern ecology.

There is no species more altruistic than us or more cooperative. It boggles my mind that we continue to expand our population logarithmically (for the last 15,000 years at least), drastically change our means of living, habitation and social organization and somehow we don't all kill each other like rats. In spite of these pressures, not to mention the availability of incredibly lethal weapons, we instead continue kill each other less, year after year, decade after decade, century after century. In spite of our incredible population density we're also getting sick less and in spite of the incredible resource load we represent on the world we're permitting relatively fewer and fewer of our fellow humans to go hungry.

"Denial of our animal nature" is just an ungenerous rewording of "aspiring higher than the rest of the animal kingdom". We don't think of ourselves as animals, not because we're not animals, but because we have found that it is in what distinguishes us from the rest of the animal kingdom that makes us wonderful, that makes us worth reading about.

On Bisexuality

For reference, a baby boomer in my life said that it was ok to be gay, but that they just couldn't accept someone who was bisexual. This is among the more outlandish things they have ever said, and I felt that an explanation of bisexuality might prove informative to them and other baby boomers.

I think I should take some time to explain bisexuality to you, since I think your strong feelings about it aren't based in fact. This is something that your generation was never educated in when growing up, unlike mine. In addition to my advantage of age, I've received a decent amount of exposure to the issue because every girl I've dated since my first kiss has been bi (including the one I'm seeing tomorrow!).

Everyone lands somewhere on the Kinsey scale spectrum, from gay to straight, and everyone is a little bi. Gay men can successfully have sex with women, and the opposite is probably true for any heterosexual man. They might not enjoy it as much, but it would work and it would be at least a little enjoyable. It helps that people are turned on by people in general.

You can appreciate when a woman is pretty and I can appreciate when a guy is pretty and we can both admit that pretty people are more pleasant to look at than unpretty ones, even if they're not the gender we're sexually attracted to. You may think that's totally different from being "a little bi", but it's not really. Sexuality isn't nearly so tidy as we wish.

I guess I can see one thing potentially more subversive about bisexuality than homosexuality-- it's no longer a question of choice. Bisexual people have the choice whether or not to act bisexually, so from a Christian morality standpoint I guess you could say practicing bisexuals are the worst sinners of all. Let's be clear about what choice there is, though, because being born bisexual is just as little of a choice as being gay or straight. Acting on it is the part where bisexuals are uniquely rich in options.

Being born with a bisexual orientation can be convenient if you're, say, going to an all-girls school, and less convenient for keeping friendships uncomplicated. I've heard a couple bisexual girls say they are just attracted to people, not gender, which might help minimize that complication. I've heard a different bisexual girl say she had multiple "types" and was only into those people. I've also heard people profess that they "liked everyone". In any case, it's still a complicating factor for having platonic friends.

There are also a lot of interesting associations with being bi. People think of bi girls in completely different terms from how they think of bi guys.

Bi guys are often thought of as "gay lite" because it's pretty common for young gay guys to call themselves bi while on their way out of the closet before eventually honestly calling themselves totally gay. Even if people don't think of bi guys as being probably just gay, there is a lot more prejudice about it-- probably for the same reasons there is more prejudice about being gay and male than as a lesbian and with the added ingredient of confusion that bisexuality lends.

Bi girls, on the other hand, make a lot of people immediately think of threesomes. Apparently they get a lot more junk mail on OKCupid than pretty much anyone else. Of course, most bi girls are about as interested in threesomes as most straight girls, which is to say not really.

I admit I have a positive association with bi girls. Being out as bisexual means they've put some thought into their sexuality, which is an indication that they are open minded and comfortable with themselves (though it is no guarantee). It also means that there's the distinct possibility that I can talk with them about boobs or about how hot an actress on TV is. In short, bi girls have some of the perks of heterosexual guys while still being into guys. I'm no more concerned that a bi girl would cheat on me than that a straight one would-- being bi doesnt make someone fickle or flighty or even more sexual.

There's a good chance I will end up with a bi girl, so I'd like you to think long and hard about your problem with bisexuality. I cheerfully hope that you will no longer have that problem by the time I'm ready to marry somebody, whether or not that person is bi.

Cheers and love

On Prop 37 and Genetic Modification

This is probably the California proposition I've heard talked about most, and it happens to be the one I care about the most. Prop 37, if effective in convincing agribusiness to abandon GM crops, would be expensive, but I'm more concerned about the expense of the lawsuit wars it would open up and the complete lack of impact it's likely to have on anything and everything.

Since the idea of Prop 37 is to give consumers choice, let's investigate that. First of all, the idea of labeling is to provide information, but it turns out to be information we already have. Essentially all conventional cotton, canola, corn and soybean products will be at least partially derived (and typically mostly derived) from GM crops. After that, sugar beets, squash and papaya are the only remaining crops for which commercial GM crops can be found. No genetically modified animals have been approved by the FDA. So, not a whole lot of uncertainty to be resolving there. Second of all, those opposed to or afraid of GMOs who want products containing one of these seven crops can buy organic or foods labelled GMO-free.

With this in mind, it's really very difficult to interpret Prop 37 as anything but a referendum on genetic modification itself. Unfortunately, the public understanding of genetic modification is rife with misinformation. There are a number of myths about genetically modified crops that I'd like to dispell (I'd like to credit NPR for some of the material here):

"Everything is GMO these days" and "We don't know what's GMO and what's not"
Like I said-- there isn't much mystery about what is or isn't genetically modified and only seven crops are even potentially GMO-- every tomato you can find in a store, no matter how anemically pinkish and tasteless, is GMO-free.

"Monsanto will sue you for growing their patented GMOs if traces of those GMOs entered your fields through wind-blown pollen"
This has more to do with Monsanto than GMOs, really, but this is a myth. The full explanation can be found on the previously-mentioned NPR article.

"GMO crops give people allergic reactions"
Genetic modification that may introduce allergens into crops is something the FDA specifically prohibits, looks out for and makes sure doesn't happen.

"Seeds from GMOs are sterile"
Way back in 1998, there was a big controversy when Monsanto suggested making GMOs with "terminator genes", which would make crops that could otherwise be replanted act instead like hybrid seedless watermelon seeds-- farmers would have to keep coming back to get their fix. The public outcry over this was enormous and Monsanto quickly shelved the idea, never to revisit it.

"GMO crops have animal genes in them"
Like the terminator gene, this was something people became very worried about in the late nineties. There was some conception of genetic modification creating half-animal frankenplants-- a silly fear that grossly overestimates our ability to change the genetic make-up of organisms. Nonetheless, US law prohibits inserting animal genes into crops.

"GMO crops are poorly understood"
This last one I'm going to take some time with.

The testing required for FDA approval of a new GMO is very expensive-- to the tune of 50+ million dollars. This is the reason that only a handful of crop varieties are genetically modified-- most vegetables don't have enough market share to justify such an expense (squash and papaya with virus resistance genes inserted were licensed before FDA approval became so expensive). Part of the testing is knowing exactly where the inserted gene is (transgene is the word used in science). There is also thorough testing of the gene product, or the protein that the gene codes for, to ensure that it is safe for human consumption. So, for every commercial GMO, we know exactly where the transgene is, what protein it codes for and we have extensively tested the protein for safety. To quote this article, "every major scientific authority on the subject – from the American Medical Association to the National Academies of Science to the American Dietetic Association to the World Health Organization – has confirmed the safety of eating currently approved foods made with biotechnology."

Genetic modification has been used in science since the early 70's, and for the last two decades transgenic organisms have been one of the most important tools used by scientists to learn about cell biology. I've personally genetically modified E. coli and I've worked with many strains of transgenic C. elegans. Those who understand the science of genetic modification and have personally worked with genetically modified organisms overwhelmingly support genetic modification as a technology to improve agricultural crops' productivity, nutritional content, disease resistance, environmental tolerance, etc., not to mention non-agricultural uses like making insulin and other drugs. Indeed, a number of Nobel Prize-winning scientists have come out against Prop 37.

At the end of the day, whether or not Prop 37 passes, I hope its existence on the ballot encourages conversation about genetically modified crops and that the public comes to a clearer understanding of what genetically modified food is, because there is a lot of misplaced fear. With a little knowledge, consumers can avoid GM food if they want, but GM food is unequivocally safe and therefore does not merit labeling. More importantly, Prop 37 is just a poorly-written proposition, written by and for regulation litigators (to whom it would create additional business) and organic grocery stores (who have an ideological axe to grind). It is opposed by scientists, farmers, food companies and the majority of California newspapers.

The Strange Summer

After I broke up with Sarah, you may have noticed that I made a string of increasingly distraught posts followed by a spat of furiously ragged polemics. This, of course, was no coincidence. I have been unhappy. Those uncompromising barbs came from a place of pain. While this is an explanation for those posts (as well as other correspondence from that time of similar tone), it is neither an excuse nor an apology. I won't retract them, because they are true and much of their value and truthfulness lies in their intensity of emotion. They are things I thought of saying much earlier, but they were catalyzed by that (unrelated) discontent, and I'm glad that they were.

I'm still unhappy, even miserable, and the nice or fun things I do now aren't fulfilling the way they should be. One friend suggested I consider a therapist. Another friend pointed out that being depressed is perfectly normal and that depression isn't clinical until it has persisted for over six months, something I have no expectation that it will do.

I am, as people go, an unusually happy, balanced person, but for now I am subject to that seed of doubt: "What if it was an illusion, a facade, a temporary cheat? What if I'm just a miserable person on the inside, and that's why I couldn't make it work with Sarah and that's why I won't be happy until I give up the hubris of my own way of thinking?" I've certainly had people insinuate as much at various (earlier) times in my life, people incensed by my glib, entitled, I-have-all-the-answers posture. I've brought such scrutiny upon myself. Further, I have no real proof that they were ever wrong. Part of that break-up was fueled by an underlying neediness in myself that I could never trace the source of, and that insecurity was definitely among the strains underlying my furiously ragged polemics.

There have been a number of other events this summer that, taken as a whole, have made for a very strange, muted, almost dreamlike summer.

My maternal grandfather died. My childhood dog died. My 63-year-old aunt, who has beaten breast cancer twice, had something cancer-like identified in her for the third time. Fortunately, I have since learned that it turned out to be a rare bone disease. I'm not sure how bad the bone disease is, but it's certainly better news than the likely death sentence that metastasized cancer would have been. One of my closest friends's boyfriend, who I knew and liked and who made my friend happy, killed himself. My friend was the one who found him. My mom and sister were in a violent car accident, in which their car rolled four times. The car, that we were once driven to middle school in, did not survive. Fortunately my mom and sister are okay.

None of these things have been my pain alone. My sister was good friends with the guy who killed himself, our childhood dog was officially her dog, and she's started a PhD program in the middle of Iowa far from everyone, including her own still-new boyfriend. My mom, who was the driver in that car crash, will worry about the recurring headaches that Bri got after the crash and losing your dad is a heck of a lot harder than losing your grandfather. Even with Sarah, the pain I bear is mirrored in her, and she has less of a support system. So, I can't feel isolated, but I do feel emotionally withdrawn and extraordinarily fragile. This summer has imbued in me a sense of mortality which I have only previously experienced in a few sober moments of childhood.

I said earlier that I seem to be an intrinsically happy, balanced person. I think most of the Vidrines are, come to think of it. I feel enormously lucky to be blessed with a sturdy, clever mind, good culture, and a rich array of people who care about me and who I care about in return. This summer has made me feel lucky, and for that I am thankful. I won't forget that this summer has also made me feel terrible. Both feelings will pass.