I had an interesting conversation with a friend of mine who works at a rival newspaper. He told me that quantum physics would eventually prove the existence of a god of some kind. I asked him if quantum physics pointed to an ordered chaos or chaotic order. We both thought about trees falling in the woods. I realized I'd been in the cafeteria way too long (about an hour), returned to the newsroom and designed a section front where all of the elements created a circular swirl on the page. My boss said, "I think you're almost there." This was a little bit discouraging to me, since I thought I'd already been to Nirvana once in the day. I changed the page to a more conventional design, but made some of the elements form a staircase to the big picture in the corner of the page. I think my boss changed it the next day.
When the only useful revelation of the week comes during the opening credits of "Batman Returns" on Monday night, one has to wonder what happened, if anything during the week. Not that realizing in one large shining moment the way to make an over agonized story work isn't a good thing. But it's really hard to share with the general public. Changing a group of heavy drinking, trash talking twentysomethings into an elite vigilante group versed in the ways of martial arts is monumental. Or some kind of sell out. Nobody is quite sure at the moment. And then there's changing two character's speech into an approximation of Shakespearean iambic pentameter. It's just not the kind of announcement that gets the crowd churning in anticipation.
The big news for Albuquerque this week was the boxing match between Johnny Tapia and Danny Romero. Both men grew up in The Big Q, but neither live here now. They moved to California quite a while ago because athletic training is always better near an ocean. But this was a match between hometown boys, and the hometown made the most of it. Everyone got drunk. Tapia won by unanimous decision in 12 rounds. He proved it's okay to be a foul-mouthed showboat as long as you win. My one question is this: if Johnny's real name is Jonathan and Danny's real name is Daniel, would the chanting at the bout a little bit confusing? "John-a-than! John-a-than!" or "Dan-yell! Dan-yell!" In other words, I didn't care about this fight. We talked through the entire radio broadcast (we don't have HBO) and realized somewhere in the eleventh round that it was already over.
The rain comes down in the evening to cool the hot cement and nourish our jungle front yard. The natural order which creates food and drink for all animals supports a species count of thousands in our canopy. New vaccines will someday emerge from our forests of mint. The cats need to eat more of the cockroaches. Our sunflowers have bent their heads and let loose a rain of seeds on the ground. They will once again return. The Discovery Channel is such an inspiration. Watch the green for it will someday be brown.
The Royals won another game this week. It was late, it didn't make the paper, we came from a 6-0 deficit to win 9-6. This is encouraging. As I said last week, it doesn't matter if the Royals win or lose. Well, it does matter, but I don't get as upset anymore.
Sometimes I wonder if my gay friends secretly think I'm disgusting because I sleep with women.
And another sun (okay the same one, but we can call it a different name if you want) rises today, the day of column deadlines. Everything keeps on keeping on with amazing synchronicity. Fishbone yells about pressure. So do the Specials, David Bowie, Queen and Billy Joel. But the pressure isn't as bad these days. The sun is a little warm (yes, that sun there), but it's nice that the old boy is still hanging around after such a long time.
The three-year-olds at the movies don't understand why they can't hold a conversation with their parents. The parents don't understand they shouldn't take their three-year-olds to a 10 p.m. movie on a Saturday night. The people in the theater without kids make a resolve never to have them.
And eventually the spiral ends up right where it began in the first place: on my computer at work.
So much for being Zen.
Matt Worley doesn't see a problem with being deep as long as the canyon is wide as well.