Sneakers

I just watched the movie Sneakers, which is probably one of my favorite movies of all time. It has a nice, twisty plot, and even with the fake crypto technology subplot, it’s a very memorable and fun movie. I actually saw it in the theater three different times with three different dates when it was playing in Bloomington back in 1992. It’s another piece of proof that maybe that year was my high water mark, as I could get three different dates inside of a month or so, and I don’t think I’ve dated three different people in the last three years. Anyway, the movie reminded me of that era, not only in reference to who I saw it with, but also the look of things. The toy company-slash-enemy hideout is decorated in that early nineties tech look that existed in Lindley Hall and other newly remodeled buildings when I was on campus.

Not much is up here. I have been borderline sick all week, so I haven’t been in the mood to write. I’ve been falling asleep after work, eating dinner late, having the whole evening collapse onto itself, and then oversleeping in the morning. It’s a bad pattern, and hard to break. I slept for almost three hours after work tonight, but luckily, it’s Saturday tomorrow (today) and I’ll be able to sleep in. I have planned another weekend of nothing, except maybe getting work done on this (still untitled) book.

So the Hussein brothers post-mortem photos are all over the internet, which is cool. I prefer the pre-internet method of hanging the bodies from a lamppost, but call me old-fashioned. What’s amazing is the fact that no matter how much the government tries to verify the identity of the bodies with DNA, dental, x-ray, tattoos, photos, height, weight, and everything else, there is still a plurality of people who call bullshit on the whole thing. Ever since JFK and Watergate and everything else, people would not believe it if the government told them that the sky was blue. If a leader is not captured or killed (like Osama), people say the government did kill them and are stringing it out to justify their funding and stuff. And if they do kill them, and they put the picture on every Reuters-powered news source in the world, people say “it doesn’t entirely look like him to me.” And I guess if we did capture Sadaam and put him up in Attica or something like we did Noriega, people would probably say it is his body double or some shit like that. Yet OJ’s golf score gets better every week, and I don’t see any people saying shit about him walking. I don’t get it.

I got a bunch of books this week, including an old (and somewhat mite-smelling) copy of On Thermonuclear War, the book published by a Rand think-tanker that coined the term “Nuclear Winter” (and later used as a cool band name by yours truly.) I also got a great B-52 book with lots of old and new photos, and tons of details on the differences between models and even upgrade blocks. There aren’t any pictures of my dad’s old plane, but it is mentioned in the text, and lots of other Buffs of the same vintage are pictured. It also has pictures of all of the B-52D planes that were stored in the desert and later destroyed with a giant chopping machine, which is pretty sad. I wish I could order one of those things surplus and park it on my land out in Colorado. The cabin would make a kick-ass bedroom, and I could set up a living room in the bomb bays. The fuel tanks could be replumbed into septic tanks, or maybe water storage. And maybe a little guest bed or observation deck in the tailgunner’s capsule.

I’m very tired and it is almost 2:00 AM, so I better split.

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