Last night, I overheard someone say that The Daily Show is coming to Minnesota during the Republican National Convention. I have no idea if this is in fact true. But assuming it is, I’m going to start shamelessly appealing for someone to hook me up with tickets. Otherwise, I will be forced to take that entire week off of work so I can camp outside the box office.
C’mon, people. This blog isn’t complete without a picture of me and Jon Stewart.
The only way to watch cable news coverage of a primary is to do so slightly intoxicated. I’m going to watch the returns with some fellow junkies. I’ll post a follow-up if the mood strikes me.
The news keeps making reference to some election or another taking place tomorrow. We’re still doing those? I thought this whole thing had devolved into a tedious and unending reality tv series, like The Real World minus the hook-ups.
My prediction: Hillary by seven. If all those newly registered voters turn out in droves, it could be somewhat closer. She probably needs to win by at least eight or nine to justify remaining in the race. Whatever happens, the circus will likely continue for at least a couple more weeks.
Today’s Strib features a story about the mortgage crunch and its deleterious effects on outer-ring suburbs like Wright County. The story is familiar: developers rush into an exurban area with dollar signs in their eyes, selling overpriced homes to individuals with spotty credit histories. Then the market crashed, leaving many development projects in limbo and saddling borrowers with mortgages that now exceed the value of their homes. The article reminded me of that recent Atlantic feature which outlined how these seemingly idyllic housing developments, hard-hit by the economic downturn, could become the new slums of the American landscape.
Even though most of the media is still preoccupied with analyzing the bitterness of rural Pennsylvanians and politicians’ friendships with former Sixties radicals, the NYT comes along with an article informing us that health insurers have come up with another way to screw over people who have the gall to get sick. Major insurers like Kaiser have devised a new co-pay tier for expensive drugs that treat life-threatening conditions like cancer or multiple sclerosis. Co-pays for these “Tier 4” drugs can be hundreds of dollars per month. If you don’t have the cash on hand to pay for the co-pay, then you’d better hope that your Visa isn’t maxed out or else it’s no medicine for you.
Isn’t the whole purpose of insurance to spread the risk across a large population so that cost burdens do not fall disproportionately on one person or any group of people? If private companies don’t have the wherewithal to adequately pool risk, then we need to recognize that the time has come for a single-payer solution.
It occurs to me that I’m a flesh-and-blood version of a first-grader’s drawing. Big head. Limbs like sticks.
See, these are the kinds of things that pop into my head when I’m sitting at my desk on a Friday night.
Pitchfork.tv is a new streaming video site from the hipsters who brought us the music website of the same name. It’s been live for only a few weeks, but the site already contains an impressive amount of content in the form of music videos, interviews, and long-form documentaries. Since MTV now shows nothing but bad reality television starring the beautiful and the lobotomized, Pitchfork.tv is a great find for those of us who want to watch actual music videos. I’m especially fond of this exuberant video by the Brazilian band CSS.
A friend of mine who also has SMA told me about a recent visit to a physician who specializes in neuromuscular disorders. This doctor told her that, contingent on the results of a genetic screening, she could receive an injection of a substance that stops the progression of SMA. She couldn’t tell me the name of the substance and a cursory Google search didn’t turn up anything definitive. My understanding of SMA is that it isn’t progressive in the same sense as, say, ALS is progressive. The motor neuron is shut off (or at least badly damaged) and the loss of signal causes muscles to atrophy, but that atrophy eventually plateaus. But I could be misinformed. My friend’s SMA is significantly less severe than mine and, if progression is an ongoing process, she would definitely benefit from such a treatment. I see myself as having reached that plateau back in my early twenties. As I get older, however, it might be difficult to distinguish progression from the usual creakiness that accompanies the aging process.
According to the AP, summer camps tailored to the needs of kids with disabilities and chronic illnesses are sprouting up all over the country. Researchers are finding that kids who attend these camps may go home with a better understanding of their disabilities and are more comfortable discussing their disabilities with others. Here’s what one kid said about his experience at a camp for children with epilepsy.
You get to learn about each other, how you’re not different from everyone.
I attended a camp sponsored by the Muscular Dystrophy Association for a couple summers in a row. It was the first and only place where another kid threatened to beat me up. I suspect that’s not an anecdote the MDA wants printed up in the brochures. But I also caught a glimpse of my pretty counselor topless, so the experience had its upside.
Today is Hug-an-Atheist Day. It must be a real holiday because there’s a whole Facebook page dedicated to it. So where’s my hug? Don’t worry; I’m the warm, fuzzy kind of atheist. I won’t try to thrust a copy of The End of Faith into your unsuspecting hands.