Lobster Dreams and Afghan Valleys

Okay, so even though I wrote this post up last night, I have to interject something. What do you do if one of your best friends, who you've wanted to spend the rest of your life with for years, starts shacking up with a sixty-year-old man? Well, if you're me... You marry her! At the drop of a hat! Or at least, that's what happened in a dream I had last night. Some of you long-timers, like Mighty Mo, will remember a young lady who I referred to as "The Lobster" in reference to the Friends episode...



In Fall of 2005, I decided that it was time to give up on the Lobster; after all, I had to really commit myself to F3, right? Well, five or six months later, I found out that The Lobster had moved in with a sixty-year-old man - gross! Aside from one brief phone call of hers that I returned for the sole purpose of being a tad obnoxious so that she'd finally stop calling and leaving sporadic messages, we haven't spoken since about September of '05. Well anyway, last night I dreamed that we got married at the drop of a hat, were exceptionally happy about it... And then we went to my grandfather's funeral, even though he died in January of '05. And I wore one of my kilts, [SARCASM]which must have made my dad exceptionally thrilled[/SARCASM]. Bizarre. Now, I wouldn't necessarily say that she needs to, say, get hit by a bus; but there should certainly be some sort of remediation process.

Also, it should be noted that Mighty Mo didn't have a stroke, just some dental work. I'll post more relating to her tomorrow.

Also, in reference to this post from Monday, one of my co-workers pointed me to a Snopes page, which gives the actual context for the "redneck mansion/condominiums". I still say that if they were shipping container houses, I'd be the first in line to live there.

It was brought to my attention that I needed to make clear, based on Monday's post, that Big Orange is neither big nor orange. Neither of those adjectives describe Big Orange. Really, Big Orange is like the Matrix: no one can be told what Big Orange is; they must experience Big Orange for themselves. Bottom line, though, is that it's a nickname she earned while wearing a big, poofy orange jacket. Also, in direct opposition to an episode of Sports Night in which Isaac and Jeremy correctly stated that you can't give yourself a nickname...

Jeremy: You can't give yourself a nickname.
Isaac: Don't I know it.
Dana: All right, moving on.
Isaac: You don't think I'd like to be called "The Hammer?"
Dana: Isaac.
Isaac: I would, Dana, I'd like to be called "The Hammer." You know why I'm not?
Dana: You can't give yourself a nickname.
Isaac: You can't give yourself a nickname.
Dana: Okay.
Isaac: Also, that one's taken.
- Sports Night, The Cut Man Cometh

... Big Orange gave herself the nickname, and for her, it works.

I love geography, and I'm also passionate about history. Two of the areas of history I've specialized in, among others, are military history and the history of the Islamic world. One of the most fascinating and tragic examples of these three topics coming together is the history of Afghanistan, in which geography in particular has played a pivotal role. One of the areas of particular interest, since it ended up becoming one of the strongholds of the Northern Alliance, is the Panjshir Valley (Wiki). Populated largely by ethnic Tajiks (who opposed the Pashtun Taliban government partly on ethnic grounds), the Panjshir Valley was the home of Ahmad Shah Massoud, the "Lion of Panshir". A Western ally, and an ardent enemy of the Taliban, Massoud was murdered by al Qaeda mere hours before 9/11. Rallying behind the name of their revered leader, the Northern Alliance went on to ally with coalition special forces units to topple the Taliban's control of Afghanistan in a matter of weeks - and the geography of the Panjshir Valley, both physical and cultural, played a decisive part.

Ladies and gentlemen, maintain your authenticity on this Wednesday. That's right: keep it real.