Accommodatingly

Re: the coming oil crash, the site linked below (and others like it) make a four-part disaster argument: 1. we’re going to run out of oil, and soon; even sooner than that, the price of oil will go way up. 2. we won’t be able to replace that oil with “alternative energy sources,” not soon and maybe not ever, which means that our lifestyles will have to change (especially in America, less so in Norway) and our standard of living will decline. 3. world financial markets will respond to 1. by tanking suddenly, like 1929-31 but much worse, rather than through any more gradual or managed adjustment; this means the changes in 2. will occur suddenly as well. 4. given 1., 2., and 3., civilization will pretty much come to a halt.

1. and 2. seem well-supported and virtually inarguable.

3. and 4. seem plausible, but speculative.

Now distract yourself with a cool photo (via Paul) of Big V.

we’re doomed

Well, here it is, sort of. Via BoingBoing.

Secrets revealed on Postcards

Most chilling: “Everyone who knew me before 9/11 believes I’m dead.” Yikes

Lexie’s team lost tonight. She’s so tiny out there, and still has a lot to learn, but she seems to be enjoying herself.

Courtney and I are both on our computers now, goofing off. Amber’s at her dad’s with Dixie, so we’re down to two humans and two canines. Tomorrow we’re going to see Lexie’s art show, which is at my old high school. I would link to the site but it is so ugly I find it deeply embarassing. I almost feel like I should offer to redesign it as an act of alumni giving.

Seriously, do not press this button.

(Via Metafilter.)

This morning my younger niece is experiencing “Fed up aunt who is determined to get her off to schoool whether she gets mad at me or not.”

No, your stomach ache is not going to get you a pass. No, being overly tired because you were on the phone with your friends until 11 is not going to convince me, either. No the fact that all of your jeans are apparently on your floor, dirty, or in the washing machine, wet, is not going to help your case. And the fact that the jeans I grabbed out of the washing machine and threw in the dryer are the same jeans you wore yesterday (gasp!) is not going to affect my decision. You are going to school, girl. Believe me, you’d rather be there than here if you don’t make it, because I will turn into your lecturing, nagging, overbearing aunt, and nobody wants that.

Sometimes I really want to go kick some middle school butt. It’s easy to forget how unfeeling and unthinkingly mean teens are to each other; it’s easy to write off all of the bullies in movies as Hollywood stereotypes. But they’re real, and it’s so painful to see my beautiful, smart, funny, and loving niece depressed because a bunch of jerks at her new school are giving her a hard time.

There’s not much to do other than tell her that other people love her and that those mean people at school are jerks. And maybe watch Heathers, or Pretty in Pink.

I made lunch for me and my kid sister. It was nice. I’ve been enjoying my week of family time. Even if I do miss Steve and the kitties.

Getting certain teens out of bed in the morning requires determination, wily cunning, and imagination.

Amber is pretty good about it, probably because she feels guilty if she misses the bus and needs a ride, since her school is long drive away from here. Courtney, on the other hand, is like trying to raise the dead. I feel like I need to learn the appropriate incantations and have eye of newt or a crow’s heart to wave over her.

She even tried the “my stomach hurts” thing yesterday. I told her that if she coughed and her stomach fell out of her mouth, then we would discuss the possibility of her staying home. Otherwise, she could take a Pepto-Bismol tablet and get ready for school.

Why do these people hate America?

(Via atrios.)