I’m pleased to report that the first stage of Operation Breathing Room has apparently met little resistance and has succeeded. The goal of Operation Breathing Room is to launch a first-strike at the flea infestation, keeping them off balance until Tuesday, when the Weapon From Which They Cannot Escape will be deployed. Until then, I need to check their expansion and make sure that I can still sit on my couch without being bitten to death.

Tonight was Stage One of Operation Breathing Room — a coating of flea powder on all carpeted areas of my apartment before work, followed by a light cleaning of the living and dining areas after work. Although one wouldn’t think so, I usually find myself desiring furniture rearrangement and material posession rearrangement during my post-fumigation clean-up, so I’m trying to head that off by doing all of that ahead of time.

The cleaning aspect — aside for the vacuuming of carpeted or fabric surfaces — is kind of pointless. I’m going to have to reclean on Tuesday to get rid of the poison that will be coating everything. I don’t mind telling you that cleaning Hogwarts isn’t something I’m looking forward to.

For those of you who care — and why would you? — I’ll be posting photos of my cleaned and fumigated apartment late Tuesday or early Wednesday.

Tomorrow — Stage Two — will involve cleaning and reoraganization of the den and bedroom. The bedroom, thankfully, is very spartan … the den? Not so much. That one’s going to be a bitch, tomorrow and Tuesday. I’ll be at work all day Sunday and Monday, so everything I need to get done — in terms of cleaning and preperation — needs to be finished by tomorrow around 4pm, which is when I’ll be setting off for work.

Tuesday evening can’t get here fast enough.

They’re back. Really, I should’ve noticed that the cats were scratching themselves a lot more, but I didn’t really believe they — the fleas, that is — were back until I was putting on my socks this morning and had two of them suddenly on my leg. Grrr. Fleas. Grrr.

It’s important, in waging war on fleas, not to allow them more time than neccessary. Take the initiative, lift your sword, and fight for the liberation of your clothes and carpets and pets. Strong, decisive action is a must. So I just got back from a run to Target for D.E. powder and a three-pack of those fumigation-can-spray things.

I’m fumigating Tuesday. The cats are going to the Animal Hospital in the AM for a bath and overnight boarding. I just ripped up the living room and dining, sprinkling “flea powder” (i.e., diametcrious earth — which I know I mispelled) on every carpeted or fabric surface, and rubbing it in with a broom. I’m going to vacuum when I get home again — you have to let it sit for an hour to be effective, and I’ve got to leave for work shortly.

Tomorrow, I’m going to do a pre-fumigation cleaning, including bagging up clothing and linens into trashbags to await a massive laundry effort Tuesday. The nice thing about fumigating — if there can be said to be a nice thing about it — is that it forces you to clean your entire place, from top to bottom. So, by Tuesday evening, my place will be sparkling clean and flea free. Of course, after dropping my cats off at the hospital bright and early, I still have to keep my apartment clear for three or four hours to let the poison work, so I also scheduled an oil change (I leave for vacation in less than a week and a half!!!)

(And then, of course, you have to repeat the process in a month because fumigation doesn’t kill flea eggs. Grr).

(This mean I’ll have to cancel plans with my sister, but maybe I can talk her into making the drive up — she just moved to Bethesda — to help me clean …)

I want to see this.

The subject matter leads me to believe that were I to take a date to this film, she might be more open to the suggestion of various forms of horizontal funness after.

You know who I hate? Those people who cut you off just so they can drive ten miles under the speed limit while you’re reduced to fuming in your car and wishing you’d bought the machine-gun option for your sports car. But there are people even worse than that on the road.

Last night I was stuck behind a slow moving jalopy on Jarrettsville Pike. The speed limit is 50. Dipfucker never got up to fifty, instead, he got up to forty-five. And then dropped back to thirty. And then got back up to 45. And then back to 30. This, all the way six miles up the damn road. Assuming he was too drunk to do the speed limit — which is really, the only possibility I could think of for him driving like a retarded retard — what, was it really too difficult to just pick a speed and keep with it?

What really sucked was that, while I allowed four car lengths between us — and kept to it! — everyone coming up from behind wound up tailgating me. Fuckers.

If you’d asked me ten years ago, or today, what kind of government the Taliban ran in Afghanistan, I would’ve told you, “a fascist government cloaked in a fundementalist religion.”

CAIR — The Council on American Islamic Relations — is upset over a statement made by Daniel Pipes where he equates Islamism with fascism. I don’t know who Daniel Pipes is, nor do I particularly care. He defines “Islamism” as “an Islamic fundamentalist with extreme political views,” which I think is a fair definition to make.

I don’t think any religion, of itself, is fascist. I think when any religion is used as the basis to form a government, the execution of that government in its enforcement of a strict religious moral code may term itself “fundementalist” but will much closer resemble “fascism.” So if the question is, “Is Islam a fascist religion?” my answer is “No.” But if the question is, “Is Islam a fascist government type?” my answer is, “Yes.” Of course, if a Christian religion operated a nation in a similar fundementalist way, I would also term it fascist.

Fundementalism fascism isn’t the rule for all Islamic countries — Pakistan is a straight-up fascist dictatorship, its legitimate government deposed by military coup nearly ten years ago. I don’t know much about Turkey’s government, but from I understand its a secular Parlimentary democracy.

Islamism. Christianism. Two sides of the same coin — put a religion in charge of your government, and you’ve got yourself a fascist one.

Alternative Title: Pillowpants, The Pussy Troll.

I can’t remember the date I first saw Clerks — it had been out on video for a few years by that point, and I was working at Blockbuster. I brought it home one night — it must’ve been a holiday, because my grandmother was down from Scranton, and sleeping in my sister’s bedroom. I watched Clerks late at night, in the tv room, directly under the bedroom my super-religious Catholic grandmother was sleeping. I can’t believe I didn’t wake everyone in the house up — what a fresh, funny, creative film that spoke so much to the meaningless drudge of my video clerking.

Tonight, I busted ass to get out of work early — thanks for working my close, Chewbacca — in order to get down to White Marsh to see Clerks II, the last day — and the last showing — it was playing.

I will admit that I had formed some preconceptions about the film beforehand. Namely that I would walk out of it thinking, “Dear god, my sequel rule is correct, this film sucked!”

Well, while there was a lot of sucking in the film — including of the intraspecies erotica variety — it was actually very touching. I mean, in an offensive, smack-you-in-the-face kind of way (who needed Jay’s full frontal nudity? NOT ME). Even counting Jersey Girl (which I liked), and even factoring in the sex-jokes, and the beastiality, and the other offensive shit, Clerks II is probably Smith’s most mature film (considering that a segment of the film is all about the Star Wars Trilogy > Lord of the Rings, that’s actually saying a lot). Maybe it’s just that I found a lot to identify with these two guys, Dante and Randall, early-thirty-something losers clerking a dead-end job. I mean, I’m just a late-twenties loser delivering pizzas, but there are parallels there — I’ll say that if I hadn’t gotten myself registered for school by this point however, seeing this movie would’ve been enough to get me to do it.

The film comes full circle to the original, at the end. In fact, if you pay close attention at the end, when the camera pans away, you’ll notice a placard under the coffee prices. It reads, “Just Because We Serve You, It Doesn’t Mean We Like You”, which is a play on the tag of the trailer for the original film. Great stuff. Rock on, Dante. Rock on, Randall.

What a great, great, great film.

EDIT:

I forgot to mention that there was a large, extended extended family who thought it great to make Clerks II a family outing, even bringing many young children … as well as iPods, and cell-phones, and … seriously. Why would anyone bring children to this film? I bet they’re going to spend today running around shouting “Cock!” and “Fuck!”