In which the middle-aged Peacenik mouths off about War Drones--and all the other things that make him cranky.

Mr Mahatma--who is a Mr in real life--lives in the valleys of Southern California with his wife, a herd of Dears, and an impressive collection of books. Pnorny!
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littlemrmahatma@yahoo.com

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Little Mr Mahatma
 
Monday, December 13, 2004  
Monday Musings
Over the weekend the wife and I were talking - we do that sometimes - and I had mentioned something that had appeared in the paper about Red States. She commented that the election was over. Why were people still going on about Red and Blue States? And that got me thinking. Why were we? Who benefits from that mindset? Arguably the Democrats which fits in to the position that the "damn Media" is liberally biased.


But then my train of thought shifted to California and how we're portrayed as a Blue State. But, in reality, not really. Kerry won the state with something like 55% - not an overwhelming victory. Plus we have the annoying habit of electing Republican Governors (Good boy - I did'nt say "incompetent") such as Arnie. Where the hell is Arnie? What is he doing for California? Can anyone tell me?


And then my train of thought shifted again...to Arnie's wife, Maria Shriver and how she looks like a freaking anorexic skeleton kind of like Karen Carpenter. PBS just had a special on Karen Carpenter - what a talent; such a loss. During the special I mentioned to the wife that Richard Carpenter looked like Richard Chamberlain. Lo and behold, during the special they mentioned that the Carpenters recorded a song originally recorded (poorly) by Chamberlain. RIchard's great role (for me) was Blackthorne in Shogun.


With that I went to try out "Shogun: Total War" which the wife had found for a buck at a garage sale. Interesting game but not my style. It satisfied my curiosity about the game and quelled a minor thirst for things Nippon, though I never did get my edamames for lunch.


Anyway. It's "Hell Monday" and as most Mondays I had massive trouble sleeping. Nothing like a forty-minute commute while semi-conscious to make one ponder mortality and the meaning of life.


1:10 PM

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