Horatio Alger 2.0

I have to wonder, are we all fooling ourselves? Will the Internet cream rise to the top, bringing the rest of us with it? Note I classify myself in the “rest of us” category, as I’m not willing to give in to the Internet delusion that we’re all on equal footing here. I remain a social have not and want not, firmly so, not bothered that in social circles I’m more of an irregular rhombus, or an ovoid construct at most. Many folks on the Internet, however, tend to believe they’re the next Big Thing waiting to be discovered, knowing that The Man (if they even know what The Man is; a few years ago, I went to a TMBG concert in Utah. As a prelude to one of their songs, they had to ecplain what “The Man” is, because, apparently , many of their fans don’t know. I liked their definition: “The Man is a euphemism for ‘The Man.’” In other words, go look it up, you morons. End of segue.) is holding them back. You anal retentives are now short-circuiting because you have to go back to before the segue started to match the two ends of this thought. Tough for you. I, for one, don’t believe The Man is holding me back, because, for all I know, The Man doesn’t even know I exist. So why am I on the Internet, thus? It’s not a living. It’s not a hobby, because I’m not here on weekends. I’m here because the Internet is here, and would go on merrily without me, and, indeed, is going on merrily without me, even with me here. Horatio Alger would despair at the false Internet hopes. Or he’s go out there and be one of those Internet millionaires we read about in the paper and hope they have to pay lots and lots of taxes and eventually end up living in a van down by the river because they forgot to read the prenuptial agreement their significant other made them sign.

So it is.

Randy, my brother, is out of jail. He’s glad to be out. We took him out on the town – pizza and a trip to the Army Surplus Store, just to tell you what kind of twon we live in – and it was fun to watch my kids interact with him. We’ve talked about him being in jail, we wrote letters to him there. Lexie, our five-year-old, wanted to sit next to him at lunch, then hold his hand through the surplus store. Then this weekend at Liam’s baptism, Isaac, 3, ran up to him, hugged his legs and said, “Oh Randy, I’m glad you could come.” Mom said that really made him feel good. And he needs thing to help him feel good, because he’s got a long road ahead of him.

Yes, Liam was baptized Saturday. I think he was excited. He’s like me. He doesn’t carry his heart on his sleeve. He was thrilled, however, to get his own copy of the Book of Mormon Sunday from the bishop, and thrilled with getting to sit in the choir seats behind the pulpit while waiting for the presentation. Goofy kid.

Been reading “Is Paris Burning” the last few days. Interesting story about Paris’ liberation during World War II, and how the city escaped the massive destruction Hitler had planned for it. I never knew the German general in the area, Deitrich von Cholitz, actually sent delegations to the Allied forces, asking them for help to “save” Paris before reinforcements arrived and von Cholitz was forced to go through with the demolition plans. Gives you faith in humanity. At least the humanity of humanity during World War II.