Doctor changed my dose yesterday.  I must be improving, because I am feeling stuff.  But sometimes the stuff I am feeling isn't always the good stuff.

But y'all don't wanna hear it, right?  Nevermind.

Dave Cullen's Columbine knocked the wind out of me.  It's one of the best books I've read so far this year, very well written, and because of the story it tells, completely devastating.  I highly recommend it, but with this caveat: this book is painful to read.  Harris and Klebold were a perfect storm of a psychopath and his manic-depressive enabler.  Their case is classic.

Cullen interjects very little commentary into his narration of the unfolding events.  Nevertheless, he doesn't sugarcoat the story.  By keeping his voice relatively neutral, we can decide for ourselves who is at fault for what.  To my mind, the evangelicals who overrun Colorado come off looking pretty bad for turning this tragedy into an opportunity to recruit (which in the end did not work), and creating an unsupported martyr story that they still believe (the evangelical equivalent of a folk saint, I suppose).

In the end I felt as sorry for Harris and Klebold as I did for any of their victims.  Klebold clearly was in deep need of psychiatric treatment, and probably would have responded to the right medication and therapy.  As for Harris, it seems to me that psychopathy is a brain malfunction—at one point Cullen states that Harris had less emotional range than a golden retriever.  How tragic to be born without the ability to feel emotions like love, sympathy, joy and fear.  Psychopaths can feel rage, and the adrenalin rush of whatever turns them on (manipulating others, or violence, for instance).  One wonders whether we can classify them as even being fully human.

It's funny that just as I'm assessing my life and realizing I have too many possessions and need to get rid of many of them (and especially to stop thinking about myself in terms of what I own), I scored two really cool purchases on Saturday.

First, I used a combination of coupons and discounts to get The Journey Is the Destination, the book created from the images taken from the journals of Dan Eldon.  Eldon was a photographer, and he died in 1993 in Mogadishu when a rioting crowd stoned him and his colleagues to death.  In his brief life he had travelled the world, and taken many amazing photos.  He also left behind several unique and inspiring journals filled with collages of his photos, his artwork and various other artifacts.  The book is stirring to look through, and there is a timeless sense of optimism, youth and power in it.

Secondly, I found turquoise beads to match the ones in the necklace I made last year, so I could lengthen it.  I shlepped all the way out to Tyson's Corner to get them, but it was worth the trip, and I got caught up on some reading I was doing.  Sunday morning I strung the beads, and the necklace looks good.

Sunday afternoon, I got out of the apartment to enjoy the weather.  I sat at Jolt-n-Bolt and finished reading Anthem of a Reluctant Prophet by Joanne Proulx (definitely check the link).  I read this book last year when it came out in paperback.  I liked it so much I decided to reread it.  Amazingly, I liked it just as much the second time around.  I reckon the true test of a book's quality is how much I like it the second time I read it.  The book's narrator, Luke, has found out he can sometimes predict people's deaths, and then when they actually die, he feels their passings.  But while this supernatural ability is central to the story, it is really about a young man learning to survive the struggles of youth (love, friendship, religion, family, ostracism, anger, despair, sex, etc.).  Luke grows to appreciate the beauty of the living because he experiences the beauty of the souls (he senses them as indescribably beautiful music) as they pass through him.  I highly recommend the book.  I'm sure I will read it yet again.

Yesterday I stayed home because I had a notice that men were coming to my place to inspect for bugs.  I didn't know if they would actually spray or not, so I stayed home to make sure Manuel would be okay.  I used the day off to give this place a good cleaning, and I felt better afterwards.  It's a wonder what a better regulated brain chemistry will do for one.  Manuel enjoyed having me home, too, but all my activity made him a little nervous.  Syfy™ was showing a mini-marathon of the second season of the new Dr Who, so that kept me entertained while I did the housework.

The bug inspectors, it turns out, were only checking for bedbugs.  Bedbugs and roaches are both a problem in this building, but I have been mercifully free of both infestations since I moved in two years ago, alhamdulillah.  But the inspectors scared Manuel, who went and hid in the bathroom—his 'safe' place is on the edge of the tub, between the shower liner and the shower curtain.  It was at least thirty minutes after they left before he came out.

Yesterday evening there was a brief vigil for the slain trans* woman, Nana-boo Mack.  There are too many murders of LGBT folk in DC!  I believe it's because the straight male population of the city feels particularly vulnerable in its masculinity, and therefore lashes out.  Physical assaults and verbal attacks are also far too common.  Still, despite the rain, and the location—for me, about a fifteen minute walk into the Truxton Circle neighborhood from the New York Avenue Metro Station—there was a good turnout.  I even saw one friend, and several acquaintances.  It was a sad, angry event, as would be appropriate for a senseless murder.  May this evil nonsense stop.

*I cannot understand those gay folks—usually men, it seems—who say we have no common cause with the trans communities.  This is ridiculous, given that we are all oppressed & ostracized sexual minorities.  Besides, over the years, I've had several trans friends, and they rock!