WE WOOOOOOOOOOOOON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I had to go to bed before anything really started happening last night–arrrrgh–most of the time being five hours ahead is simply being five hours out and it’s a nuisance either way. But at least once every four years it’s a major pain, being early.
Usually when I first wake up it’s, What planet am I on? You mean this is my body?* And then some bumping into things until I remember that I wear glasses and I wear them for a reason. This morning I fell out of bed totally focussed on finding out who was going to be our next American president (and who was going to be our next American vice president). The radio was carrying on about how Obama won by a mile but–once I’d googled a state-by-state map–it’s not my idea of a mile: half a length, maybe. It’s a clear victory but it’s not Man o’ War winning the Belmont Stakes.** And while I’m mostly in a condition of dumb joy that we’re going to have a Democrat in the White House again, I can’t help hearing a small voice screaming from a corner that after eight years of Bush we should have been able to elect a, well, a donkey if it was a good Democrat, and here it was really pretty scarily close. Although as I have been writing somewhat drily to various correspondents as we exchange WE WOOOOONS!!!, the essential problem is that as soon as the front runners for the Democratic nomination settled down we were always going to be a hard sell for anyone but a wet knee jerk liberal–a woman or a black***? Dear gods. What is the world coming to.
So our cause, a Democrat in the White House, admirable and valid though it is, needed some help. And that help came, I think, in the shape of a certain governor of Alaska.† As long term readers of this blog may remember, I was a Hillary girl to begin with; she’s not perfect either, but I actually warm to her lack of charm††; I feel she’s less likely to try to put something over on me because she has less flimflam to fall back on.††† And I’m sure the pundits out there are putting this better than I am: but it has to have occurred to a lot of people that Hillary may have won us our desire by losing. McCain always would have been looking for ways to attract more women’s votes, but I don’t feel the weapon of choice against Clinton would have been the polar bear queen‡. And with a more plausible VP candidate . . . well.
But I’m completely looking forward to the Obamas’ new puppy.
I have to go to bed. It’s early as I count bedtime but I have a rather frenzied day tomorrow. I’m going to London to do this signing thing I may have mentioned once or twice before and I’m still extremely short of sleep and I don’t want to be haggard for the Romance Club.‡‡ Any of you blog people, pshaw, I figure you’ll roll with it: you’ve had practise in McKinley, and in hellhounds. Haggard is normal. Hellhounds are enough better today to be extremely resentful of the short mushy rations they’re on–and I have to tell you the irony of not feeding them when they want to eat is half killing me ‡‡‡–but what they are producing in terms of demonstrating how much better their digestions are is not hugely reassuring. Fortunately they seem to like the disgusting beef-flavoured anti-diarrhea and pro-biotic goo and they didn’t get me up last night, although that didn’t stop me from shooting awake every time there was a creak of shifting hellhound from the crate. Which is probably why I still feel fairly death-on-toast-ish today as well.
Now, can we have a little chat on the subject of photography tomorrow night? I used to be seriously hardcore about this: No Photos. Point That Object At Me And I’ll Bite It Off. It’s the whole Author As Real Person thing again: I realise this runs against the prevailing mythology, but cameras are terrible liars: they squash the life out of their subjects, and most of us aren’t beautiful enough to make it on our statuesqueness alone. The only way to replace liveliness is either to be Ansel Adams or Georgia O’Keefe, or to put a lot of photos together, which is sometimes called film. I’m willing§ to hang occasional photos here because there are, over time, enough of them to give an idea of me as real human being §§, and I’m still selective. There’s a lot of real I’d rather keep in a box.
Meanwhile there’s been a bit of a conversation on one of the forum threads about people taking other people’s bad sides tomorrow night and then splashing the results all over this blog. Yes, well, me too. Three people I’ve been moaning to about this have said bracingly: forbid photos. It’s your signing and your blog. I’m tempted. But I decided I’d try the reasonable approach first. Have some mercy, okay? If you shoot anyone looking like the Wicked Witch of the East/West§§§ or mad, or falling down, or with her tonsils/knickers showing . . . don’t post it. And if you’re not sure if she looks malevolent or green or mad, ask her first.¤
And if I disagree with you, it’s my finger on the delete button.
* * *
* Radio Three, having belaboured us with ‘free thoughts’ every morning at 8:30 for the past several months, which I have mostly managed to miss by putting my fingers in my ears and singing loudly to the hellhounds, is now having its Free Thinking Festival. I think it’s supposed to be sharp and exciting and boundary-pushing but I must have missed those lectures. The ones I hear tend to be the ‘yes, and–?’ sort. There was one a couple of days ago which was, indeed, interesting, but not for its cutting-edgeness, the premise being that our bodies are part of who we are and ‘I’ is not a single homogenous controller and sovereign! Well. Fancy. Here I thought I kept this body because I’m too lazy to go down to the U Hire and check out another one. All the paperwork. And once you get it home you know there will be problems not covered by the insurance.
** Twenty lengths. Show-off.
*** My usual protest here. He’s half black. He’s also half white. This is also racism, and it’s a funny sort of racism, if you think about it, that whiteness is so frail and vulnerable that as soon as you mix it with anything else it is obliterated.
† How did she get elected governor? . . . shutting up now.
†† I know politicians all indulge in rhetoric. But what the heck does:
“The road ahead will be long. Our climb will be steep. We may not get there in one year or even one term, but America — I have never been more hopeful than I am tonight that we will get there. I promise you — we as a people will get there . . .”
mean?
††† And of course there’s the experience issue. Now we’ve got a Democrat in the White House I’m worrying about whether he’s up to the job. I hope he’s a fast learner.
‡ But then she denies global warming too. And if the globe isn’t warming polar bears probably aren’t endangered. QED.
‡‡ I’m sure the studs and leather will be enough. No! No! I’m not doing studs and leather! I’m not!
‡‡‡ Speaking of causes of haggardness
§ More or less. It doesn’t come exactly easily.
§§ Strange. But real.
§§§ Ie squashed or green and malevolent
¤ I’m assuming that you’d only be bothering to post photos of us regulars
comments
Please join the discussion at Robin McKinley's Web Forum.