Monday, September 27, 2010

it didn't work out for Odin


The story of the eye doctor. A little Georges Bataille joke to get your week started.

The United States of America, The United States of America
Callithumpian Consort of New England Conservatory and New England Conservatory Orchestra, John Cage: Etcetera; Etcetra 2/4 Orchestras
The Flaming Lips, Embryonic
Douglas Leedy, Entropic Paradise 
Sufjan Stevens, The Age of Adz (streaming at NPR)


I am, naively perhaps, a doctor truster in practice. I don't want to be there, they are indifferent to my presence as long as the obscure clockwork of insurance in in place, so where could any conflict arise? The eye doctor is contentious though, the whole of their analysis relying on "Which is better: 1 or 2, 1 or 2?" when neither is better and what does better mean. If it made me see clearly than it would not be better, it would be perhaps a baseline of satisfaction. Better would entail my being able to see through time (though it didn't work out for Odin; for all he saw was Ragnarok, the battle where the gods get their ass kicked. Check out the Ledberg Stone, depicting Odin being devoured by the battle wolf Fenrir who, earlier in the battle, the god swallowed whole for some reason. Norse mythology is awesome.)



or maybe Bozeman's Simplex as suffered by Blinky Watts in David Lynch's short-lived On the Air TV show. That might be cool.



So anyway, my expectations are not high with an eye doctor: just make it so I can read and see enough to do my thing, but this new one on the new insurance was ghastly, rude, impatient with the patient, etc. I feel petty complaining about customer service, I do,  but....

She announced early on in the exam that I have cataracts and seemed offended when I showed dismay at this. And then later retracted that diagnosis. And on top of it, their glasses department used to suck and now (I had to go for a follow up visit - to an eye doctor!) is torn out and being renovated. Her insult to my infirmity was to say it is totally normal to need bifocals at forty, which OK maybe it is, but what next, an ear horn? Artificial hip? All I really want is new frames, yo. (like these, maybe, which I know they won't carry) She also got mad at my non-committal but honest answers at "3 or 4, 3 or 4" because neither were better and she put hand on hip and declared "Look, whatever you tell me is what I'll put on your prescription and you'll be stuck with that." Doctors suck, but this one sucks by doctor standards. Basically after all that, my prescription stays the same and I need new frames.

Anyway. Glad I got that off my chest so I can go back to telling you what I read, eat and listen to. Happy Monday!


The United States of America, " I Won't Leave My Wooden Wife for You, Sugar"

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