While I’m trying to catch up to what’s going on in the world, just a
note on the sheer damn power of cognitive dissonance, the human mind’s
incredible inability to see anything other than what it expects.

Went to a Halloween party a couple of weeks ago.  Didn’t have time for
a costume, so I just dug around the closets, looking for something
mildly eccentric which I already had.  Twenty minutes
later, I emerged in full cricket gear.

Thing is, I didn’t have a jersey and hat that actually matched.  I had
an Aussie jersey to wear, courtesy my pal Jono, but the closest I could
come to a matching hat was a Pakistan cap, which at least shared the
green and gold color scheme.

But the two really didn’t match: while the shirt quite obviously says "Australia," the cap says, equally plainly — and
in Urdu script, no less — "Pakistan."

Now granted, you’re not gonna find a ton of people drinking at a party
who are on the lookout for Urdu script.  But the cap I was wearing
quite plainly does not say "Australia."  It isn’t even in the the Roman alphabet.  Instead, there is a big
snake-looking thing with a bunch of dots hovering around it.

At a
minimum, you’d think at least one person would ask, "hey, Bob — what’s
the enormous dot-juggling snake on your forehead?"

Nope.  Dozens of bright, engaging, perceptive people I respect. 
Exchanges of compliments on costumes, close examinations, long
conversations.  During all of which, I have this big dotted snake thing
practically right between my eyes.

Nobody noticed.  Not even the people who tried it on.  The colors
matched, and so I guess everyone assumed that the Urdu script saying
"Pakistan" was some sort of Australian aboriginal thing.

And yet we on the left wonder how it’s possible that Bush still has 36 percent support. 

But millions of people are still emotionally invested in their votes
for him.  It doesn’t matter how poorly the war is conducted or how many
lies are discovered or how many indictments rack up.  These might as
well be invisible.  It’s not that the evidence is discounted.  It isn’t even processed.  That’s just how human minds work.

And millions of other people don’t follow the news all that closely.  Their mind is on other things.  For
them, hey, he’s wearing a suit.  He’s standing in front of the flag and
zipping around on Air Force One.  People call him the
"president."  The colors match.  Close enough.

So until the evidence of incompetence becomes completely overwhelming,
the same thought process is involved: must be some sort of aboriginal
thing.

Which is to say I’m still not back to game-shape yet.  Blogging might be a little slow for a while.  But I’m up and around a little again.  My voice isn’t, but you can’t have everything.

Thanks for the kind emails.  Almost every one of which included a mention of pudus.  That really cheered me up.  I gotta write everybody back when I get a minute.  Blanket thanks until then, though.

… has a new blog.  Not updated terribly frequently so far — one post and counting — but she’s a terrific writer.

Thomas Nephew over at Newsrack follows up on my original post by sending along this update on the possible implications of the bizarre upside-down pre-landfall emergency declaration.  He also lists a series of questions which should be asked of FEMA by somebody with authority and the media’s ear.

It’s a good job.  Go read.  My thanks to Thomas for continuing to look into this.

I still intend to post more about this.  When I don’t look like Nosferatu on crystal meth.

Slow pace of blogging here continues.  I’m pretty sick, but I’ll live. 
A few interesting complications.  Nothing to worry about, I think. 
Should be fine in a few more days.  No worries.

The doc is now taking a commando approach.  5 different medications.  I
just started them a few minutes ago.  Out of curiosity, and with the
caveat that these are all rare, I thought I’d list all the possible
side effects I’m about to find out if I’ll have, just for fun:

I’m amused to imagine the Constipation and Diarrhea might cancel each
other, as will the Drowsiness and Excitement.  Unfortunately, there’s
no Looseness of Chest, Super-Clear Vision, or Extra-Regular Heartbeat
on the list.

(Why are side effects never beneficial?  It only seems
fair.  I want superpowers, dammit.)

By this time next week, I will either be completely fine, I will be quite dead, or I will look like Nosferatu on crystal meth.

With three layers of hives.