{"id":1147,"date":"2005-07-17T23:48:00","date_gmt":"2005-07-18T04:48:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.boldulysses.com\/?p=1147"},"modified":"2025-02-28T01:32:55","modified_gmt":"2025-02-28T06:32:55","slug":"ichthyoid","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.boldulysses.com\/?p=1147","title":{"rendered":"ichthyoid"},"content":{"rendered":"

What the hell is the matter with me? Seriously.<\/p>\n

My parents have planned a Vacation Bible School for the kids at a local housing project. Taking place every evening of the next week, the events comprise free dinner, lessons, and games and crafts. In addition to making the signs to help promote the VBS, my parents enlisted my aid in creating and supervising an obstacle course for the “games” portion of tomorrow night. My mom’s been shopping all weekend for supplies, and she dropped by the local dollar store to see if she could find some prospective handouts and mini-prizes for the kids. She did find quite a bit, more than she expected, and among the items she found were these knockoff beanie baby stuffed animals. I had heard her talk about them all weekend, and expressed amazement that she was able to find items that substantial at the dollar store. At the time I was wrapped up in or distracted by something else and I said it more as a way of making conversation than anything else.<\/p>\n

Then tonight I walked into the kitchen and she showed me this<\/a>, telling me how cute she thought it was, handing it to me to examine and admire. I was arrested. Speechless. Dead in my tracks. Waves of thoughts and emotions came over me. I was consumed with thoughts of the innocence communicated by the little stuffed animal in my hands, its proportions and its unchangeable smile. I can’t explain it…I don’t even know what all went through my head. The toy just had an aura (can’t think of a better word for it) of optimism… I thought about all the circumstances surrounding the stuffed animal’s manufacture, most likely in a huge, faceless factory in China, the images of which I had seen in college and will forever haunt me. And then I thought about its likely destiny, momentarily cherished as a prize for a game by some rising fifth grader but then thrown away, mutilated, trampled on, forgotten about, all with the unquenchable expression on its face. The mental juxtaposition of such possible neglect with the innocence encapsulated in everything about it just floored me.<\/p>\n

I don’t get it. I can watch something like Reservoir Dogs<\/i> without flinching (not that I enjoyed it), and this, *this* gets me? I’m just…weirded out. I know it all sounds trite and stupid, but it’s what went through my head and emotions. I’m bewildered. I mean, my brother Paul and I once made a pi\u00f1ata from papier mach\u00e9 that projected the same kind of innocent optimism, and neither of us could bear to watch it hacked to pieces by friends… but we were seven and ten years old then, respectively. I’m twenty-six. What the hell is the matter with me?<\/p>\n

* * * * * *<\/p>\n

By the way, my hand looks like this<\/a>. No pain. Lots of questions about it, which are beginning to get tedious. I have until August 2nd to come up with a better explanation than “bar fight.” People just aren’t buying that one for some reason.<\/p>\n

* * * * * *<\/p>\n

At Barnes & Noble earlier tonight I was torn between Definitely Maybe<\/i>, Parklife<\/i> and some Clash album I can’t remember the name of. I ended up buying the Trainspotting<\/i> soundtrack instead. Am enjoying it immensely, especially the New Order and Underworld songs. I’m sure I’ll get into the others in good time.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

What the hell is the matter with me? Seriously. My parents have planned a Vacation Bible School for the kids at a local housing project. Taking place every evening of the next week, the events comprise free dinner, lessons, and games and crafts. In addition to making the signs to help promote the VBS, my […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[1],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.boldulysses.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1147"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.boldulysses.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.boldulysses.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.boldulysses.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.boldulysses.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1147"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.boldulysses.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1147\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2505,"href":"https:\/\/www.boldulysses.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1147\/revisions\/2505"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.boldulysses.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1147"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.boldulysses.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1147"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.boldulysses.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1147"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}