I noticed it last night when I got home from work--creeping apathy, a sense of not caring about anything. I fixed something to eat, I messed around on the computer, I even watched an episode of Mystery Science Theater 3000, usually a guaranteed mood-lifter...but I still felt numb.
I still do. Not sick, not depressed, just disconnected somehow, like I'm not quite here and don't quite care. And this sense of detachment is so strong that I didn't even react with the expected sense of horror to the story in today's New York Times that they're turning Michael Jackson's Thriller into a Broadway musical. No creative team is set, and Jackson may or may not be involved, and this probably is the final nail in the coffin of the Broadway musical, and a clear demonstration that some forms of popular art are even more creatively bankrupt than the movie business.
But...whatever. Nothing more than a shrug from me.
On the other hand, this news ought to cheer everyone up. Not me, but all regular readers. (That's right...both of you!) As the dancing Ewoks indicate...
...with the end of the Bush administration, I'm officially retiring my tendency to use labored Star Wars metaphors whenever I write about politics. The Sith Lord Cheney has been vanquished! The rebel alliance has triumphed! A new day is dawning!
(Meanwhile, in New York, the senate seat vacated by Hillary Clinton is filled by Kirsten Gillibrand, who calls herself a Democrat but spends most of her time hanging with her Republican cronies. Will she secretly manipulate her colleagues in the Democratic party to her own evil ends? Is she merely a front for a shadowy cabal, or could she actually be...The Phantom Menace?)
