June 3rd, 2003

tv // lbd // shoulder touch

Huge honkin' post

A little recap for those who weren't in the chat last night.

Yesterday evening I got to take a nice little visit to the ER because, well, Dad was hammering a plant stake into the ground, and a piece of the wood jumped up and bit him in the face. He was worried that he was going to pass out, from either the pain or the notion that the piece of lumber was lodged in his eyeball or both, so Mom grabbed me and I grabbed my purse and we drove to the hospital. On the way there Dad was able to see, in one of the mirrors, that the wood had actually struck him in between the corner of his eye and the bridge of his nose, so while it still hurt like the dickens and was bloody and whatnot, there's no traumatic tissue damage.

The ER was, of course, swamped because of a nasty accident earlier in the day (some people apparently still questioning the validity of stop signs); there were even a couple TV crews setting up for live shots and a rig (ambulance) backed into one of the three bays. Mom signed Dad in at the triage desk, but it was pretty obvious it was going to take a while, so I went with him outside to ask the medic crew (being a paramedic himself) for an ice pack. The medics, and a supervisor who was there as well, gave him a pack and some gauze and looked at the cut and figured it wouldn't be stitchable. The supervisor went into the ER through the ambulance entrance and grabbed a nurse, who also knew my dad, who was able to take him in through the back to see a doctor, once again proving that it's who you know that really counts.

While Mom and I waited, we called my brother to let him know that Dad wouldn't be a pirate for Halloween. We actually didn't have to wait very long, because the doc inside had given him a once-over, agreed that the cut wasn't stitchable, and said to keep it clean, put some ointment on it, and get a tetanus shot in the next few days.

So that's where Mom and Dad are right now... at the Doc's. He called in sick (or very nearly stabbed, whatever). He figures when he goes back to work on Sunday, he'll tell the firefighters he got in a bar fight and, being firefighters, they'll believe him.

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And for the brain thingy...

Auditory : 66%
Visual : 33%
Left : 50%
Right : 50%

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tv // lbd // shoulder touch

For the Matrix fanatics out there...

And Yam, you wanted to know the twist -- here it is, spelled out for you ;)

From Koontz's "False Memory".

Remaining calm, the doctor asked: "Did you see The Matrix?"

The question was unnecessary, as he already knew that she had seen every Keanu Reeves film at least twenty times in the privacy of her forty-seat home theater.

"Of course I saw it," she said. "How could you even ask the question if you were listening to me in the office? But you were probably woolgathering, as usual."

"It's not just a movie."

"Then what is it?"

"Reality," the doctor said, imbuing that single word with as much ominousness as his considerable acting talent made possible.

She was silent.

"As in the movie, this is not the beginning of a new millenium, as you think. It's actually the year 2300... and humanity has been enslaved for centuries."

Although she said nothing, she was drawing shallower, faster breaths, a reliable physiological indicator of paranoid fantasizing.

"And, as in the movie," he continued, "this world you think is real... is not real. It's nothing but an illusion, a deception, a virtual reality, a stunningly detailed matrix created by an evil computer to keep you docile."

Her silent seemed thoughtful rather than hostile, and her soft rapid breathing continued to encourage the doctor.

"In truth, you and billions of other human beings, all but a few rebels, are kept in pods, fed intravenously, wired to the computer to provide it with your bioelectric power, and fed the fantasy of this matrix."...

"You must think I'm insane," she said.

"Precisely the opposite. We've identified you as one of those in the pods who have begun to question the validity of this virtual reality. A potential rebel. And we want to help set you free."...

Finally she said, "Your implication seems to be that K-K-Keanu is my friend, my ally. But I know now he's... dangerous."

"You once loved him."

"Yes, well, then I saw the truth."

"No," the doctor assured her. "Your original feelings toward The One were perceptive. Your instinctive sense that he is special and worthy of adoration is true and right. Your subsequent fear of him was implanted in you by the evil computer, which wants to keep you passive in your battery pod."

Listening to himself, to the compassion and the sincereity in his voice, the doctor was beginning to feel like a raving lunatic.
tv // lbd // shoulder touch

Well, I have...

... a job interview for 10am tomorrow at the day care center.

And bad, bad Alli, the only thing I can think is: "But what if I get the job and I can't go to Lola's on the 13th?"

Somebody please straighten out my priorities.
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