Cut back up to the cathode ray.

I'm sitting here on a lovely Sunday afternoon wondering why the hell any honest, forthright, non-bone-to-pick, non-dogmatic, individual would claim that Radiohead's Pablo Honey is not a fine record. I've written on this before, but it just astonishes me. Is it a generational thing? These young pups who were but sixth-graders during the 1993 music watershed? Maybe. But deep down, I think it's just dishonesty. A refusal to look at the record just as a record, and a dashed good one at that.

So it's been a while. I've been mostly confined to my apartment recently, having recently undergone a specific surgical procedure for a specific problem. To put that in slightly less vague language, my doctors tore a gigantic hole in my left ass-cheek and didn't sew it up. It's not like they screwed it up, this was the proper procedure, but it does have the tendency to make one not endeavor out of doors all that frequently. I went to a bar on Friday night, and that turned out to be something of a mistake - Saturday was spent groaning and undergoing Vicodin withdrawl. Which, by the way, is some serious shit. I can see how people become addicted to this stuff. Going through Vicodin withdrawl is *exactly* like feeling intense pain in exactly the places you were taking the Vicodin for. So, basically, my ass hurt. My throat hurt (related to the surgery). My shoulder hurt (unrelated to the surgery, though cured by the vicodin). That sucked ass. I'm back on the drugs today, though...woohoo!

This is going to continue for about three more weeks or so. Freaking joy of joys I've also watched more movies than I care to admit. Here's my confession:
1. Being John Malkovich
2. Young Frankenstein
3. Chinatown
4. Donnie Darko
5. Soylent Green
6. Real Life
7. The 39 Steps
8. Ponette
9. Body Heat
10. The Thin Blue Line
11. The Party
12. After the Thin Man
13. Innumerable 4th Season Simpsons Episodes (with commentary)
I know there are at least a few I'm leaving out. But that's a lot of damn movies in a week or so. I've also gotten a little bit of writing done on the dissertation, but not as much as I'd like. Basically working on that thing makes me incredibly exhausted. I think it's the vicodin, but mainly I'll write or edit, like, ten pages, and then fall asleep for two hours. Sucks.

My biggest dilemma is that the 4th of July is in 2 days, and I've been invited to at least one bbq. I'd hella like to go, and I'd hella like to drink an assload of beer, preferably out of some sort of metal can. Failing that, out of some old leather boot. Failing that, out of a pressurized tube connected to a metal container full of beer. Failing that, licked off a puddle dropped on a clean kitchen floor. Failing that, dirty floor. Basically I'd like to drink some beer. But the problem is the Vicodin! Vicodin is a no-no with boozeahol, especially booze out of a metal can. (Some say this is false, but my diabetic ass ain't takin' no chances.) So that means I'll have to skip the drugs for a day in order to get 4th-faced. But can I deal with the withdrawl? Can I? It's a soul-searching dilemma. Just like the soul-searching that needs to be done by those homodox (is that the opposite of heterodox? whatever...) for the sake of homodox haters of Pablo Honey.