Thursday, May 20, 2010

A New Blog

Yes, it makes perfect sense. Because I’ve been doing such a great job keeping this blog updated. A second one, absolutely, nothing odd about that at all.

But here’s the thing.

The purpose of the bobblog is that it’s about whatever I want it to be about, at any given moment. If I want to complain about an astonishingly uncomfortable bench outside a great big building in Century City, I can do that; if I want to share excerpts from something I’m writing, I can do that; if I want to relate a comical misadventure in Ireland, I can do that too. But from time to time I wax political, and very often when I do, it’s because I feel that someone official is lying to us, for reasons that have nothing to do with good governance and everything to do with exploiting us for their own gain. This is the sort of thing that makes me good and angry, every time.

So I’ve decided to create a new blog. I’m going to call it Damn Lies, an obvious play on “lies, damn lies and statistics.” (Attributed to Disraeli but disputed; Mark Twain popularized its use.) This new blog will only ever be about one thing: the various ways we’re being lied to, and why. It will be political, economical and social, but it will almost certainly never relate how I locked myself out of my car or what those crazy siblings are up to.

Here’s a bit of overlap: the following will intro the new blog...

While writing my first novel I discovered my theme. Proust asserts that every writer only really has one theme, and every new work is a renewed attempt to express that theme, or a piece of it, better than the last work did. (If I could find the quote I would provide it, but those books are huge.) And so, while I was writing a novel that turned out to be about the way our lives are like stories that we tell to ourselves, I realized that this is the idea I will probably explore for my entire life. In my newest work, a play based on the infamous cadaver synod, I examine the ways institutions lie to us, but how the power of a good example, a good story, even if it’s just propaganda, can still transcend its manipulative origins.

Segue to this new blog.

As you can guess from the title, it will focus on the lies we’re told, and how those lies are used to exploit us. But from time to time I hope to also tell the other story, about how we’re able to, let’s just say, take a sad song and make it better. I’ll try to keep it light and entertaining, to restrain the impulse toward outrage can make an outrageous subject seem muddy and clouded, thereby weakening its impact. But when anger is called for, angry I will be.

So there you go. There’s more over on the blog, namely a quick examination of gift cards and calling cards and how they’re being used to swindle us. Just a little taste of what’s to come. Hope you’ll take a look.

Thursday, May 06, 2010

Lasers!

The last time I got my teeth cleaned, my dentist told me I had a little cavity. Needed to be filled.

Cue two weeks of dread.

Because I am a dental wimp of the first order. Do not like dental pain, no sir no how. It's so bad that when I had my wisdom teeth pulled, I was so paranoid about the pain that even as I drifted into unconsciousness I actually resisted the anaesthetic--because my brain was thinking "Was that pain? Is it hurting now? Find the pain! Focus on it! Pain! Pain! Pain!" And then, fortunately, blissful unconsciousness at last took over.

So when I know I'm going to have to have a cavity dug out, I will spend the days before working myself up into a small frenzy of anticipatory pain. When it's about time to leave, I always have five or ten really great excuses as to why I should postpone. I go anyway because I have at least a little self-control, but by the time I get there I'm a barely-contained mess of dread and fear.

This time, the good Dr. Gordon said he was going to be using a laser instead of a drill. And really, there'd be no need for any anaesthetic at all.

Cue the comical double-take.

I took some novocaine anyway, because I just wasn't prepared to make that leap. So I got the long pinching piercing pain of a needle being stuck into my gums, then a little wait and then, aaaah, the spread of that delicious numbing sensation. Perfect. He began.

The device looks a little like an electric toothbrush, and it makes a clicking sound so you know when it's working. Of course it also leaves a considerable smell of burning tooth when it's working, so there's really no mistaking it. But in about a minute, it was done.

A second double-take. "What, that's it?" (Or rather, "Wha, assit?") "That's it."

No grinding, no drilling, no horrible zzzzzzzzzzzzz sound. No pressure. No pain. Nothing. The only painful part, by far, had been the needle with the novocaine—and now I was stuck with a numb mouth for the next four hours, unable to eat or drink without drooling all over myself.

This may be one of the greatest things I've ever had happen to me. (No, not the drooling.)  Really, I’m not kidding. It was that fantastic.

Every once in a while I think, "I was born at the wrong time. Should've been born during the Enlightenment, one of those periods when society actually cared about language and reason." (It's a fallacy, but that discussion is for another day.) But that thought is always followed by another: indoor plumbing and modern dentistry. And I would not live in any other time than this one right here now.

Lasers!