It's Friday, and I have a headache. I hate headaches.
I had a thought last night, and after a bit of mulling I feel it developed into a brilliant idea. Not for me though. I'm single, and this idea is for couples. So all of you happy (horny) couples out there, this is for you.
Imagine you're a guy. Guys, this shouldn't be too hard. Girls, um, deal with it. You're going about your day as usual, and you get a text message from your girlfriend. She's asking for a verb. You reply with "shag." A few minutes later she's back, this time asking for an adverb. "Vigorously." This continues for some 20 minutes or so, at which point she suddenly disappears. You're left speechless -- having given all of your words away -- and confused to boot. "What the hell was all that about?" you may be asking yourself. Puzzled, you carry on with your day.
The payoff comes the next time you get online. In your email, waiting for you, is an email from your girlfriend containing the adult mad-lib you helped to create! So then, the next time it happens, you know you have something to look forward to the next time you check your email! Doesn't that sound like fun? What better way to spice up an otherwise regular day, plus you also get to feel a little dirty knowing what the two of you are up to.
Friday, December 1, 2006
Thursday, November 16, 2006
u.b. enidiot
I got a bone to pick, and it ain't the fun kind.
My name is Dave. Ok David, but I introduce myself as Dave. Some people still call me David, but the majority hail me by Dave. Nevermind, that doesn't matter. The point is, I'm damn proud of my name! I happen to be named after my father who, in turn, was named after his. I come from a long line of (2) Davids*, and it is my distinct pleasure to represent that line with dignity, respect and other nice ideas. And even if you don't happen to be named after anyone in particular, your parents still chose your name with a specific reason and purpose behind it.
So why, I ask you, why would anybody be so callous as to go by nothing more than the first frackin' letter of that name?? I'm seeing this more and more these days, and it's starting to piss me the hell off! Names like J. Davis, L. Wickenstein, Q. Fergerberger, and their ilk. Oh and then there're those bastards who use both their first AND middle initials like T.Y. Egghart, R.U. Horneè and B.A. Fuccure. Why disgrace the good name your parents gave you by hiding behind a personal acronym?! Even if it's NOT a good name like Ferdinand or Jennifer, it's still YOU god-damnit! Hone up to it, take it like a man or dykie lesbian and give that crap name a good name for once in its pitiful existence.
As far as I'm concerned these shameful rat bastards have no friends. What would they greet them with?? "Hey L., how's tricks today?" "R.U., good to see you survived that tragic street corner accident!" If I met somebody going by a first initial, I'd just feel awkward whenever I saw him or her around. I wouldn't know what to say! "Heeeeyyyyyyyy…you!"
These people need to grow the fuck up before I find them and beat them. I'm gonna eat my cinnamon roll now.
*For those of you among the teeming throngs reading this (i.e. 2 of the 5) now hell bent on calling me Junior, piss off. Me, my father and my grandfather all had different middle names.
My name is Dave. Ok David, but I introduce myself as Dave. Some people still call me David, but the majority hail me by Dave. Nevermind, that doesn't matter. The point is, I'm damn proud of my name! I happen to be named after my father who, in turn, was named after his. I come from a long line of (2) Davids*, and it is my distinct pleasure to represent that line with dignity, respect and other nice ideas. And even if you don't happen to be named after anyone in particular, your parents still chose your name with a specific reason and purpose behind it.
So why, I ask you, why would anybody be so callous as to go by nothing more than the first frackin' letter of that name?? I'm seeing this more and more these days, and it's starting to piss me the hell off! Names like J. Davis, L. Wickenstein, Q. Fergerberger, and their ilk. Oh and then there're those bastards who use both their first AND middle initials like T.Y. Egghart, R.U. Horneè and B.A. Fuccure. Why disgrace the good name your parents gave you by hiding behind a personal acronym?! Even if it's NOT a good name like Ferdinand or Jennifer, it's still YOU god-damnit! Hone up to it, take it like a man or dykie lesbian and give that crap name a good name for once in its pitiful existence.
As far as I'm concerned these shameful rat bastards have no friends. What would they greet them with?? "Hey L., how's tricks today?" "R.U., good to see you survived that tragic street corner accident!" If I met somebody going by a first initial, I'd just feel awkward whenever I saw him or her around. I wouldn't know what to say! "Heeeeyyyyyyyy…you!"
These people need to grow the fuck up before I find them and beat them. I'm gonna eat my cinnamon roll now.
*For those of you among the teeming throngs reading this (i.e. 2 of the 5) now hell bent on calling me Junior, piss off. Me, my father and my grandfather all had different middle names.
Monday, October 16, 2006
warning**boy with issues ahead
Alright here's the deal: this is not a rant (sorry (not really)). Well, it's not a rant on any sort of current event / political shitstorm / repugnant historical figure / lecherous travel shenanigans that you may or may not have become accustomed to. Rather this is a rant (kind of) on the frustration I'm experiencing in my personal life. You are welcome to read on, but be forewarned that you may learn more about me than you're comfortable knowing. Trust me…nobody can know too much about me without experiencing the frustration I feel daily. Read on at your peril…
I'm fed up with myself. It's not that I'm mad or upset with anything I'm doing; more that I'm just tired--worn out--at having to work so damn hard every day just to stay normal. And I still manage to fail miserably!
So here's the deal: I have AD/HD Type I, or Attention Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder of the Inattentive Type. That means a number of things for me. To rattle some of them off in no particular order…I have a very poor memory, it's painfully difficult for me to focus on any one thing for any period of time, I randomly don't know how to deal with social situations, I have an erratic train of thought, I procrastinate, I have great difficulty finishing what I start, etc. etc. etc. In addition to AD/HD, I'm also partially dyslexic and slightly afflicted with OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder). Fun mix, huh? The implications of those include difficulties reading, difficulties with stupid little simple things like dialing a phone correctly, and problems fixating on patterns for no particular reason. It's annoying as fuck.
But while annoying, so far it really doesn't seem all that bad. This is where it gets fun though; this is where I get to tell you how this particular mix of weird-ass problems mixes and affects my day-to-day life…
Essentially, what are affected more than anything else are the relationships--past, current and potential--that I have in and around me all the time. I don't know how to handle them! That may seem somewhat idiotic to most people reading this, but please let me at least try to explain (though I don't expect to do it very successfully).
When I'm fine, I'm fine. I'm confident, happy, talkative, energetic, engaging, smiley, funny, blah blah blah. But I'm not always fine…on a fairly regular basis I, for whatever reason, suddenly don't know how to be around people. I feel awkward, out of place, and I don't know how to talk to anyone. If I try to talk to someone it's just painfully obvious that I don't know what I'm doing. I come across as an awkward middle-schooler, which makes me and anyone I'm around visibly uncomfortable. So I just stop talking to people. Essentially, I go into hiding. I shut myself in my room, go for a long walk, or do any number of other things that allow me to isolate myself. There are two major problems with this tactic:
Being me. That's what. For about two months now I've been off of the medication for a number of reasons. At first it was because my doctor moved out of town and to get a new prescription I had to meet with a new one…something that I just kept putting off. After awhile though, I began noticing something: certain personality traits about which I had long forgotten had begun to return. Quirks I used to be quite fond of, like my ability to write creatively (this self-righteous ramble aside), my ability to not care about what people thought of me, and just my general quirky demeanor that I used to be known for. I had gotten so caught up in the novelty of being able to focus for the first time in my life that I hadn't noticed myself becoming a quiet, appropriate, complacent businessman. That's one of the last things I ever wanted to be, and still is!
So what the hell do I do now? Do I really have to trade off between being productive and being myself? That's not fair, of course, but life rarely seems to be anymore. And if I choose myself, how do I deal with other people successfully? I almost feel as if it's not fair for me to try to make friends anymore because my personality is so damned erratic and unpredictable, I'd just end up pissing them off and ultimately being a bad friend. I don't want to be a bad friend.
Why is it that the only options fair to everyone else leave me by myself?
I'm fed up with myself. It's not that I'm mad or upset with anything I'm doing; more that I'm just tired--worn out--at having to work so damn hard every day just to stay normal. And I still manage to fail miserably!
So here's the deal: I have AD/HD Type I, or Attention Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder of the Inattentive Type. That means a number of things for me. To rattle some of them off in no particular order…I have a very poor memory, it's painfully difficult for me to focus on any one thing for any period of time, I randomly don't know how to deal with social situations, I have an erratic train of thought, I procrastinate, I have great difficulty finishing what I start, etc. etc. etc. In addition to AD/HD, I'm also partially dyslexic and slightly afflicted with OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder). Fun mix, huh? The implications of those include difficulties reading, difficulties with stupid little simple things like dialing a phone correctly, and problems fixating on patterns for no particular reason. It's annoying as fuck.
But while annoying, so far it really doesn't seem all that bad. This is where it gets fun though; this is where I get to tell you how this particular mix of weird-ass problems mixes and affects my day-to-day life…
**Incidentally, we're talking personal life here, not work life. The problems presented to me at work are of an entirely different nature, and not what I want to get in to here.**
Essentially, what are affected more than anything else are the relationships--past, current and potential--that I have in and around me all the time. I don't know how to handle them! That may seem somewhat idiotic to most people reading this, but please let me at least try to explain (though I don't expect to do it very successfully).
When I'm fine, I'm fine. I'm confident, happy, talkative, energetic, engaging, smiley, funny, blah blah blah. But I'm not always fine…on a fairly regular basis I, for whatever reason, suddenly don't know how to be around people. I feel awkward, out of place, and I don't know how to talk to anyone. If I try to talk to someone it's just painfully obvious that I don't know what I'm doing. I come across as an awkward middle-schooler, which makes me and anyone I'm around visibly uncomfortable. So I just stop talking to people. Essentially, I go into hiding. I shut myself in my room, go for a long walk, or do any number of other things that allow me to isolate myself. There are two major problems with this tactic:
- I never know when I'm going to suddenly feel like this. It's impossible to predict, which makes planning social outings infuriating! All too often I make plans to get together with friends somewhere and, after getting there, suddenly go silent. If I try to explain myself I succeed only in making everyone uncomfortable, so I don't. Consequently, people think I'm pissed or upset with them. There's just no comfortable way out of it other than just not making plans.
- I need to interact with people. Whether I want to or not, I at least have to go to my job, which includes meeting and dealing with a lot of people. I don't have the time or the patience for this kind of shit coming and going! But unfortunately, it's not exactly something that's going to go away.
Being me. That's what. For about two months now I've been off of the medication for a number of reasons. At first it was because my doctor moved out of town and to get a new prescription I had to meet with a new one…something that I just kept putting off. After awhile though, I began noticing something: certain personality traits about which I had long forgotten had begun to return. Quirks I used to be quite fond of, like my ability to write creatively (this self-righteous ramble aside), my ability to not care about what people thought of me, and just my general quirky demeanor that I used to be known for. I had gotten so caught up in the novelty of being able to focus for the first time in my life that I hadn't noticed myself becoming a quiet, appropriate, complacent businessman. That's one of the last things I ever wanted to be, and still is!
So what the hell do I do now? Do I really have to trade off between being productive and being myself? That's not fair, of course, but life rarely seems to be anymore. And if I choose myself, how do I deal with other people successfully? I almost feel as if it's not fair for me to try to make friends anymore because my personality is so damned erratic and unpredictable, I'd just end up pissing them off and ultimately being a bad friend. I don't want to be a bad friend.
Why is it that the only options fair to everyone else leave me by myself?
Friday, October 13, 2006
possible counter-maneuver (C-M) needed
So here's the scoop: Two of my kickass roomies and I are heading downstate tonight for a weekend of camping, rock climbing, bonfiring, and general merriment. We're going to a place called Jackson Falls, just south of the the tiny little burg of Ozark.
I decided to post this because you never can be too sure. There have been reports recently verifying packs of roaming evil red ninjas, and in the event that I don't make it back Sunday night, I'd like everybody to know where to send the Tactical Ninja Counter-Offensive Unit (TaNC-OU). Better safe than sorry, right?
Also, we'll be in a bright yellow tent should the Aerial TaNC-OU (AerTaNC-OU) need to be dropped in. Should things begin to look bad, we may have to escalate to Code Orange and drop in the Anti-Ninja Star AerTaNC-OU (A-NiSAerTaNC-OU) to get me out.
I appreciate everyone's attention. I keep you all informed because, should a ninja strike happen, what would the world be like without me?
Thank you.
I decided to post this because you never can be too sure. There have been reports recently verifying packs of roaming evil red ninjas, and in the event that I don't make it back Sunday night, I'd like everybody to know where to send the Tactical Ninja Counter-Offensive Unit (TaNC-OU). Better safe than sorry, right?
Also, we'll be in a bright yellow tent should the Aerial TaNC-OU (AerTaNC-OU) need to be dropped in. Should things begin to look bad, we may have to escalate to Code Orange and drop in the Anti-Ninja Star AerTaNC-OU (A-NiSAerTaNC-OU) to get me out.
I appreciate everyone's attention. I keep you all informed because, should a ninja strike happen, what would the world be like without me?
Thank you.
Monday, October 9, 2006
here's to goats!
Guess what today is everybody! That's right, we're shutting down the post office and staying away from the bank, because it's CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS DAY!!! YAAAAAAAYYYYYYYY!!! This year we're going to celebrate it just a little bit differently. Instead of dancing joyously while eating ice cream cones or sipping hot cocoa (depending upon your region), we're all going to go out, shoot an Indian in the head and steal its wallet! YAAAAAAAYYYYYYYY!!!
Jesus Christ why is this retarded, asinine bitch of a holiday still here? That is not a rhetorical question; if Jesus Christ has given any of you the answer, for the love of god pass it on. I want everybody** to ask themselves "why do we have a holiday for this pompous ass-licker?" It's because he "discovered" America, right? Leading the way for us to become the greatest country in the world? One nation under god? The best that the dominant white race has to offer? Fuck that shit – Chris Columbus was a greedy, bigoted, religiously-dogmatic pygmy goat-raping torturous murderer ready and willing to do anything he could to get another buck (or whatever the hell they used for currency back then; I'm too lazy and pissed off at the moment to look it up). Let's look a little bit closer at what this heroic raper of ibexes did to deserve his own national holiday…
First of all, the great legend has him sailing from Spain to America in 1492. Wrong. His first voyage across the ocean took place in 1492, but he did not land in the United States of America as we know it, NOR was he even looking for it! He was looking for a quick and easy way to the West Indies so he could set up a trade route for spices, thus trumping Portugal. And guess what he demanded as a fee for performing this service for Spain (what, you think he did it out the goodness of his black heart?). His contract read as such:
He would:
How's that for humility?
But, as fate would have it, instead of navigating around the globe as he intended, he bumped into the Bahamas. Not a bad place for a vacation these days, but in those days it just happened to be inhabited by natives. Natives who no longer exist thanks to that Don Juan of the Nigerian Dwarf, but I'll get to that in a minute. Much went on, which I will not delve into here, but ultimately he didn't even reach the mainland until 1498. If you want to read the history of his great voyages, I would encourage you to do so here, but I won't waste time by copying it all down in this blog. In lieu of complete documentation, I simply will put the following:
He sailed back and forth a few times, kidnapped a few thousand natives to sell into slavery in Spain, but ultimately began to run low on cash to fund his exciting adventures. So, he did what the rest of us do when we want to vacation in the Bahamas: he put into place on Haiti a clear, fair system that required every native above 14 years of age to bring him a certain quota of gold, the amount of which determined by a token that he forced all of them to wear around their necks. Should these gold-bearing servants of his fail to bring the full amount, he simply chopped their hands off. HE CHOPPED...THEIR FUCKING...HANDS OFF!!! Are you enraged yet that this molester of Black Bengals has his own national fucking holiday?? You damn well better be!!
If, for some perverse reason you were too busy fucking a Tahr to have read that correctly and you're still not red in the face (aside for the color derived from your vigorously amorous bestial encounter), here are two more little tidbits of Senior Columbus' sense of humor:
Fuck I'm pissed.
**WHAT THE FUCK??! Microsoft Word just tried to change "themselves" to himself or herself!!! Does my writing sound like it's supposed to be politically correct you Down syndrome genome of a program?? What's that? You can't tell the tone of my writing because you suck at life? Then don't try to correct the tone of my shit!!
Jesus Christ why is this retarded, asinine bitch of a holiday still here? That is not a rhetorical question; if Jesus Christ has given any of you the answer, for the love of god pass it on. I want everybody** to ask themselves "why do we have a holiday for this pompous ass-licker?" It's because he "discovered" America, right? Leading the way for us to become the greatest country in the world? One nation under god? The best that the dominant white race has to offer? Fuck that shit – Chris Columbus was a greedy, bigoted, religiously-dogmatic pygmy goat-raping torturous murderer ready and willing to do anything he could to get another buck (or whatever the hell they used for currency back then; I'm too lazy and pissed off at the moment to look it up). Let's look a little bit closer at what this heroic raper of ibexes did to deserve his own national holiday…
First of all, the great legend has him sailing from Spain to America in 1492. Wrong. His first voyage across the ocean took place in 1492, but he did not land in the United States of America as we know it, NOR was he even looking for it! He was looking for a quick and easy way to the West Indies so he could set up a trade route for spices, thus trumping Portugal. And guess what he demanded as a fee for performing this service for Spain (what, you think he did it out the goodness of his black heart?). His contract read as such:
He would:
- be given the rank of Admiral of the Ocean Sea (Atlantic Ocean).
- be appointed Viceroy and Governor of all the new lands.
- have the right to nominate three persons, from whom the sovereigns would choose one, for any office in the new lands.
- be entitled to 10 percent of all the revenues from the new lands in perpetuity; this part was denied to him in the contract, although it was one of his demands.
- have the option of buying one-eighth interest in any commercial venture with the new lands and receive one-eighth of the profits.
How's that for humility?
But, as fate would have it, instead of navigating around the globe as he intended, he bumped into the Bahamas. Not a bad place for a vacation these days, but in those days it just happened to be inhabited by natives. Natives who no longer exist thanks to that Don Juan of the Nigerian Dwarf, but I'll get to that in a minute. Much went on, which I will not delve into here, but ultimately he didn't even reach the mainland until 1498. If you want to read the history of his great voyages, I would encourage you to do so here, but I won't waste time by copying it all down in this blog. In lieu of complete documentation, I simply will put the following:
SHIT HAPPENED
He sailed back and forth a few times, kidnapped a few thousand natives to sell into slavery in Spain, but ultimately began to run low on cash to fund his exciting adventures. So, he did what the rest of us do when we want to vacation in the Bahamas: he put into place on Haiti a clear, fair system that required every native above 14 years of age to bring him a certain quota of gold, the amount of which determined by a token that he forced all of them to wear around their necks. Should these gold-bearing servants of his fail to bring the full amount, he simply chopped their hands off. HE CHOPPED...THEIR FUCKING...HANDS OFF!!! Are you enraged yet that this molester of Black Bengals has his own national fucking holiday?? You damn well better be!!
If, for some perverse reason you were too busy fucking a Tahr to have read that correctly and you're still not red in the face (aside for the color derived from your vigorously amorous bestial encounter), here are two more little tidbits of Senior Columbus' sense of humor:
- He ordered a man who was caught stealing corn to have his nose and ears cut off and auctioned off as a slave.
- A woman who suggested Columbus was of lowly birth was punished by Columbus' brother Bartolomé: she was stripped naked and paraded around the colony on a mule. When Bartolomé had her tongue cut out, Columbus congratulated him for defending the family's honor.
Fuck I'm pissed.
**WHAT THE FUCK??! Microsoft Word just tried to change "themselves" to himself or herself!!! Does my writing sound like it's supposed to be politically correct you Down syndrome genome of a program?? What's that? You can't tell the tone of my writing because you suck at life? Then don't try to correct the tone of my shit!!
Thursday, September 28, 2006
righteous porn cops
It's official: the War on Terror (© 2006 Bush Administration) is over – and WE WON!!!! Congratulations all around; we all helped bring this righteous crusade to its honorable, Christian outcome.
I know what you're thinking (I'm a magician, it's my job): but our troops are still in the Middle East! People are still blowing up! Osama bin Laden is still out there, probably on vacation in Pakistan, sipping mojitos and petting his pussy! I can't lie…you're absolutely right. But what you're missing is that I have declared victory, which means it's mine. Well, ours.
And what's the reason for this triumphant declaration over the Muslim world and all its haters? Well it's very simple: we have moved on and directed our resources elsewhere, indicating that we obviously don't need them anymore for those trivial issues of the past such as national security, foreign espionage, cyber-based attacks, deficit control, violent crime, not-so-violent crime, white collar crime, border control or protection of constitutional our rights. Good for us for letting go of such nonsense!
So where do our priorities lay now? According to our illustrious Attorney General Alberto R. Gonzales, "one of the top priorities" of this age is to form – you ready for this – an all-new FBI ANTI-OBSCENITY SQUAD!!! Not a task force, coalition, committee or conference, but a fucking SQUAD!! And we're not talking about child porn or any of that nasty illegal shit either, we're talking about hot, kinky, hardcore sex made by and marketed to consenting adults. Apparently this administration feels it has every right to wage a fucking WAR on every fucking emotion that it disagrees with. First it was the War on Terror (© 2006 Bush Administration). Not terrorists or terrorism, both of which being totally valid things to fight, but the raw emotion of terror. "I pledge that the diverse (Christian) citizens of our great (Christian) nation will never have to feel terror again!!" – Mr. Bush, November 3, 2003*.
Next on the chopping block: lust! This brand-spankin' new squad – formed by a fucking memo – is responsible for gathering evidence against "manufacturers and purveyors" of pornography. The memo said the best odds of conviction come with pornography that "includes bestiality, urination, defecation, as well as sadistic and masochistic behavior." No word yet on the universe of other kinks that we all know and wank to. These Jesus-loving rat fuckers are ordering the FBfuckingI to fucking take Debby…not to Dallas, but to fucking jail! FUCK! What the fuck is wrong with these bran muffin munching moral maniacs?! What in our one true god's name makes them think they've got the right to decide that just because they find something icky they can sick our highest level of law enforcement on it?? Don't worry about our $8,490,600,820,374.85 (yes, that is 8.4 trillion dollars) deficit that you alone have created. Don't fret about the hundreds of thousands of homeless and hungry people living on our streets who don't even have access to the evil porn empire. Don't concern yourselves with matters such as violent crime and rape. Instead, why don't you just make it felony to masturbate and punish all those who question your authority by spankin' the monkey or slappin' the clam a bit with capital punishment? I think that's a bully idea, worthy of being directly overseen by the president of our theocracy - the most powerful wanker in the world!
*Not a real quote.
I know what you're thinking (I'm a magician, it's my job): but our troops are still in the Middle East! People are still blowing up! Osama bin Laden is still out there, probably on vacation in Pakistan, sipping mojitos and petting his pussy! I can't lie…you're absolutely right. But what you're missing is that I have declared victory, which means it's mine. Well, ours.
And what's the reason for this triumphant declaration over the Muslim world and all its haters? Well it's very simple: we have moved on and directed our resources elsewhere, indicating that we obviously don't need them anymore for those trivial issues of the past such as national security, foreign espionage, cyber-based attacks, deficit control, violent crime, not-so-violent crime, white collar crime, border control or protection of constitutional our rights. Good for us for letting go of such nonsense!
So where do our priorities lay now? According to our illustrious Attorney General Alberto R. Gonzales, "one of the top priorities" of this age is to form – you ready for this – an all-new FBI ANTI-OBSCENITY SQUAD!!! Not a task force, coalition, committee or conference, but a fucking SQUAD!! And we're not talking about child porn or any of that nasty illegal shit either, we're talking about hot, kinky, hardcore sex made by and marketed to consenting adults. Apparently this administration feels it has every right to wage a fucking WAR on every fucking emotion that it disagrees with. First it was the War on Terror (© 2006 Bush Administration). Not terrorists or terrorism, both of which being totally valid things to fight, but the raw emotion of terror. "I pledge that the diverse (Christian) citizens of our great (Christian) nation will never have to feel terror again!!" – Mr. Bush, November 3, 2003*.
Next on the chopping block: lust! This brand-spankin' new squad – formed by a fucking memo – is responsible for gathering evidence against "manufacturers and purveyors" of pornography. The memo said the best odds of conviction come with pornography that "includes bestiality, urination, defecation, as well as sadistic and masochistic behavior." No word yet on the universe of other kinks that we all know and wank to. These Jesus-loving rat fuckers are ordering the FBfuckingI to fucking take Debby…not to Dallas, but to fucking jail! FUCK! What the fuck is wrong with these bran muffin munching moral maniacs?! What in our one true god's name makes them think they've got the right to decide that just because they find something icky they can sick our highest level of law enforcement on it?? Don't worry about our $8,490,600,820,374.85 (yes, that is 8.4 trillion dollars) deficit that you alone have created. Don't fret about the hundreds of thousands of homeless and hungry people living on our streets who don't even have access to the evil porn empire. Don't concern yourselves with matters such as violent crime and rape. Instead, why don't you just make it felony to masturbate and punish all those who question your authority by spankin' the monkey or slappin' the clam a bit with capital punishment? I think that's a bully idea, worthy of being directly overseen by the president of our theocracy - the most powerful wanker in the world!
*Not a real quote.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
happy thoughts
I yell an awful lot, don’t I? I must come off as a severely unhappy person. Well tonight I am here to tell you that is just plain, unadulterated, good ol’ down-home horseshit...you bastards.
I’m a very happy person! Rapturous, if you will*. And I’m going to prove it, whether you sons-and-daughters-of-syphilitic-wombats like it or not. I have two crackerjack stories from today and last night that made me wonderfully happy, and they don’t have anything at all to do with politics, the constitution, or dumb people. How refreshing is that?
The first is from last night. It makes very little sense, but then very little does these days, so it possibly makes more sense than usual. If that makes sense. I was regaling Juna - my roommate - and her friend Kyoko with stories from the many strange hours I spent in Istanbul, Turkey this summer. Specifically, stories about the interior of the central building of the main bus terminal. It’s a good story, and hence a good read (if I may shamelessly promote myself), but the quick, unfulfilling version of it is there were tons of tiny shops crammed into this place that looked like Koopa-Land from the movie Super Mario Brothers, and every single one, without exception, sold either blue jeans, cameras, knives or guns. Many of them had a combination of the aforementioned products. Beats the hell out of me how they all managed to stay in business, but I already wrote on that.
ANYWAY, after I finished this part of the story, Juna suggested that I probably just didn’t know very much about guns, and that they all were probably very different and unique, but that one would have to "know" guns to see the various differences. She offered up the analogy of chocolate cakes. There is indeed the possibility that one could find an entire block FILLED with nothing but chocolate cake shops, all selling different and wonderful varieties of delicious chocolate cake, and they all would stay in business. Is that not the most marvelous analogy you have ever heard in your life?? How magnificent is it to take a story about numerous gun shops in Istanbul and relate it to a block chock full of chocolate cake shops? Can you IMAGINE the smell on that street??! I would want to be buried there so that I could be sure to smell heavenly things in the afterlife, wherever that may be (I’m shooting for Valhöll)!! I swear, that made me smile all night long.
And the second is from today, after work. I was walking to the bus stop, and I passed by this guy who always tries to shine my shoes for me. Because I polish my shoes at home (not to mention it would make me REALLY uncomfortable to have a homeless black guy shining my shoes on the street), I never let him. I’m always polite and laugh with him, and he always says he’ll get me one of these days (I assume he means he’ll get me to let him shine my shoes, not "get me" as in kill me), but I never let him. He recognizes me on sight now.
So today it was no different. I passed him going the opposite direction, and we had the same kind of exchange as has become usual. EXCEPT, today he noticed I had salt stains on my shoes. He put aside the loud, jovial bit he always seems to have on, and told me in all seriousness what to use to get rid of them. He didn’t ask for any money, he didn’t ask to do it for me...he just wanted to help me out. THAT’S IT!! He did me a favor because I needed to know how to clean them, and he asked nothing in return. Jesus Christ eating a ham on a fuckin' Friday I fuckin’ love motherfuckin’ people! That’s been partially responsible for the smile that’s been gracing my face all this evening.
Also partially responsible is that royal ass-whooping I gave to that 9-year-old girl earlier today. She totally was asking for it.
So you see, I’m generally a very happy fellow, so all of ya’ll that aren’t reading this and aren’t commenting on this that think I’m a sour potato...you can just fuck off!
*I wouldn’t.
I’m a very happy person! Rapturous, if you will*. And I’m going to prove it, whether you sons-and-daughters-of-syphilitic-wombats like it or not. I have two crackerjack stories from today and last night that made me wonderfully happy, and they don’t have anything at all to do with politics, the constitution, or dumb people. How refreshing is that?
The first is from last night. It makes very little sense, but then very little does these days, so it possibly makes more sense than usual. If that makes sense. I was regaling Juna - my roommate - and her friend Kyoko with stories from the many strange hours I spent in Istanbul, Turkey this summer. Specifically, stories about the interior of the central building of the main bus terminal. It’s a good story, and hence a good read (if I may shamelessly promote myself), but the quick, unfulfilling version of it is there were tons of tiny shops crammed into this place that looked like Koopa-Land from the movie Super Mario Brothers, and every single one, without exception, sold either blue jeans, cameras, knives or guns. Many of them had a combination of the aforementioned products. Beats the hell out of me how they all managed to stay in business, but I already wrote on that.
ANYWAY, after I finished this part of the story, Juna suggested that I probably just didn’t know very much about guns, and that they all were probably very different and unique, but that one would have to "know" guns to see the various differences. She offered up the analogy of chocolate cakes. There is indeed the possibility that one could find an entire block FILLED with nothing but chocolate cake shops, all selling different and wonderful varieties of delicious chocolate cake, and they all would stay in business. Is that not the most marvelous analogy you have ever heard in your life?? How magnificent is it to take a story about numerous gun shops in Istanbul and relate it to a block chock full of chocolate cake shops? Can you IMAGINE the smell on that street??! I would want to be buried there so that I could be sure to smell heavenly things in the afterlife, wherever that may be (I’m shooting for Valhöll)!! I swear, that made me smile all night long.
And the second is from today, after work. I was walking to the bus stop, and I passed by this guy who always tries to shine my shoes for me. Because I polish my shoes at home (not to mention it would make me REALLY uncomfortable to have a homeless black guy shining my shoes on the street), I never let him. I’m always polite and laugh with him, and he always says he’ll get me one of these days (I assume he means he’ll get me to let him shine my shoes, not "get me" as in kill me), but I never let him. He recognizes me on sight now.
So today it was no different. I passed him going the opposite direction, and we had the same kind of exchange as has become usual. EXCEPT, today he noticed I had salt stains on my shoes. He put aside the loud, jovial bit he always seems to have on, and told me in all seriousness what to use to get rid of them. He didn’t ask for any money, he didn’t ask to do it for me...he just wanted to help me out. THAT’S IT!! He did me a favor because I needed to know how to clean them, and he asked nothing in return. Jesus Christ eating a ham on a fuckin' Friday I fuckin’ love motherfuckin’ people! That’s been partially responsible for the smile that’s been gracing my face all this evening.
Also partially responsible is that royal ass-whooping I gave to that 9-year-old girl earlier today. She totally was asking for it.
So you see, I’m generally a very happy fellow, so all of ya’ll that aren’t reading this and aren’t commenting on this that think I’m a sour potato...you can just fuck off!
*I wouldn’t.
Thursday, September 14, 2006
the language of idiots
Let's talk current issues. But just for fun, let's talk about it in the way that everybody these days seems to prefer. You know, just to mix it up.
First up, let's just go for broke: the war in Iraq. Really there are two sides to this issue – those who are for justice, and those who are for innocent life. Personally, I'm for innocent life, but that may just be me. And that being the case, quite obviously I have an irresponsibly blatant disregard for justice. In other words, I'm an evil, crotchless-pantied Nazi son of a bitch. Of course, everyone who doesn't side with me is an unholy, child-murdering rape machine. I sure wish we all could just agree that human life is important along with international justice. Oh well. (You bastards.)
Are you getting where I'm going with this yet? No, probably not. I suppose it has been rather vague so far. Let me try to explain…I'm talking about ABORTION. Can you see the link? No, probably not. To be specific, I am not discussing the actual topic of abortion, rather the language used during discussion of the actual topic. This isn't an issue that gets to see the light of day real often…
Who can name the two factions involved in the abortion debacle? Anyone? Do I see a hand in the back? Or is everybody too damned scared of being lambasted if they say something wrong? Then allow me: (instructions: read slowly, drawing out every word) in the first corner, smoking the weed and wearing the yellow trucks and red silk bathrobe, we have the hippy PRO-CHOICERS!! In the opposite corner, reading the bible and wearing the beige trunks and off-white corduroy bathrobe, we have – the one true god's own chosen – the PRO-LIFERS!! Sound familiar? In this, the great debate of our time (please read that sarcastically), you have to be on one of these sides. Got it? Good. So…which are you?
As somebody very cleverly once said, we're all both pro-choice AND pro-life. When asked straight out, nobody is going to say they're against women having the choice of what to do with their own bodies, nor is anybody going to say they're just against life (I hope). So how can you have two opposing sides if neither one is really against the other? YOU CAN'T BITCHES, THAT'S HOW! These titles were created for one reason, and only one reason: to villainize anybody who has the gall to actually disagree with you. NOT to clearly define your stance, as it should be, but to indicate that if anybody is dumb enough to disagree with you, you obviously are either against freedom of choice or against life outright. WHEN THE FUCK DID WE DECIDE TO LET THESE IDIOTS MANIPULATE US??? It's abortion that is the subject of the debate! You are either for or against abortion, nothing else! Quit glossing it over just to make you sound better than the guy you is against. That's manipulative, shady, dodgy and ghetto. Plus I don't like it.
When debating an issue, just be straight and say what you mean. Don't say you're pro-choice, because everyone else is too. Don't say you're pro-life, because again, so are all of the rest of us. Just say you're pro- or anti-abortion. That's clear.
This god-damned media and this god-damned government are turning us all into god-damned politicians.
First up, let's just go for broke: the war in Iraq. Really there are two sides to this issue – those who are for justice, and those who are for innocent life. Personally, I'm for innocent life, but that may just be me. And that being the case, quite obviously I have an irresponsibly blatant disregard for justice. In other words, I'm an evil, crotchless-pantied Nazi son of a bitch. Of course, everyone who doesn't side with me is an unholy, child-murdering rape machine. I sure wish we all could just agree that human life is important along with international justice. Oh well. (You bastards.)
Are you getting where I'm going with this yet? No, probably not. I suppose it has been rather vague so far. Let me try to explain…I'm talking about ABORTION. Can you see the link? No, probably not. To be specific, I am not discussing the actual topic of abortion, rather the language used during discussion of the actual topic. This isn't an issue that gets to see the light of day real often…
Who can name the two factions involved in the abortion debacle? Anyone? Do I see a hand in the back? Or is everybody too damned scared of being lambasted if they say something wrong? Then allow me: (instructions: read slowly, drawing out every word) in the first corner, smoking the weed and wearing the yellow trucks and red silk bathrobe, we have the hippy PRO-CHOICERS!! In the opposite corner, reading the bible and wearing the beige trunks and off-white corduroy bathrobe, we have – the one true god's own chosen – the PRO-LIFERS!! Sound familiar? In this, the great debate of our time (please read that sarcastically), you have to be on one of these sides. Got it? Good. So…which are you?
As somebody very cleverly once said, we're all both pro-choice AND pro-life. When asked straight out, nobody is going to say they're against women having the choice of what to do with their own bodies, nor is anybody going to say they're just against life (I hope). So how can you have two opposing sides if neither one is really against the other? YOU CAN'T BITCHES, THAT'S HOW! These titles were created for one reason, and only one reason: to villainize anybody who has the gall to actually disagree with you. NOT to clearly define your stance, as it should be, but to indicate that if anybody is dumb enough to disagree with you, you obviously are either against freedom of choice or against life outright. WHEN THE FUCK DID WE DECIDE TO LET THESE IDIOTS MANIPULATE US??? It's abortion that is the subject of the debate! You are either for or against abortion, nothing else! Quit glossing it over just to make you sound better than the guy you is against. That's manipulative, shady, dodgy and ghetto. Plus I don't like it.
When debating an issue, just be straight and say what you mean. Don't say you're pro-choice, because everyone else is too. Don't say you're pro-life, because again, so are all of the rest of us. Just say you're pro- or anti-abortion. That's clear.
This god-damned media and this god-damned government are turning us all into god-damned politicians.
Friday, September 8, 2006
bloodsports
You know, I want to be angry about this, I really do. But when it comes right down to it I'm just not surprised. Politics is a rough game regardless of what state you're in, but in the great state of Illinois, it's a fucking dog-eat-dog bloodsport.
The amount of corruption in and around this state's government is utterly ridiculous. So much so that it's just downright fascinating! The sons of bitches get so damned creative it makes even me feel bad about myself! Check out these expenses that a state audit dug up…bear in mind that I AM paying for these rat bastards:
How do you like THAT shit?! These protestant offspring of whores are spending my ficken money to pay for their god-damned GAS on their way to a Bears game. WHO THE HELL STILL GOES TO BEARS GAMES????
I'm going to eat a cookie...
The amount of corruption in and around this state's government is utterly ridiculous. So much so that it's just downright fascinating! The sons of bitches get so damned creative it makes even me feel bad about myself! Check out these expenses that a state audit dug up…bear in mind that I AM paying for these rat bastards:
- $125,000
Annual salary of Illinois Global Partnership CEO Thomas Miner -- more than at least three state agency directors who have larger budgets and work forces. - $11,458
Cost of a study to determine how much Illinois Global Partnership executives like Miner should be paid. Two other executives also had $100,000-plus salaries. - $455
Cost for a January dinner at Andy's Jazz Club in Chicago with state agriculture officials. Of that, $154 was spent on liquor. - $2,300
Cost of a no-bid computer-repair contract awarded to the son of Illinois Global Partnership Vice President Richard Paullin; almost half of that work was done from the son's home. - $31,710, $17,760 or $18,292
The cost of an Illinois Global Partnership trade mission last March to Saudi Arabia and Qatar; the agency's record keeping was so poor it couldn't say which amount represented the true cost. - $20,000
Amount described as an "advance" to the law firm of Illinois Global Partnership's general counsel. The October 2005 voucher was handwritten on a piece of notebook paper and did not state what specific services had been performed. - $10.75
The amount Paullin charged the state for mileage to see the Chicago Bears play the Cincinnati Bengals on Sept. 25, 2005, at Soldier Field.
-Source: Internal audit by Comptroller Dan Hynes' office
How do you like THAT shit?! These protestant offspring of whores are spending my ficken money to pay for their god-damned GAS on their way to a Bears game. WHO THE HELL STILL GOES TO BEARS GAMES????
I'm going to eat a cookie...
Wednesday, September 6, 2006
the inescapable discomforts of living free
Boy I love living in a free country! Don't you love living in a free country? Doesn't everyone love living in a free country? You'd think so, as would I, but we'd both of us be wrong! Damn wrong even!
There is a disturbing trend that's been growing and growing and growing, so much that it's grown to near epidemic levels. Tell me if this sounds familiar:
"Boy I love this country! We're the melting pot of the world, giving us such a wonderful mixture of cultures, preferences, foods, drinks, games, toys, personalities, shoes, styles and languages. More than anything, I love that I am free to be me, along with everybody else!"
Notice anything askew in that paragraph? No? Read it again, and pay more attention this time to the last sentence. I can wait...
We have reached a point in this country where the prevalent stance toward diversity is "everybody is free to be me." NOT themselves! The issue that's gotten me riled up this time round happens to be smoking. Look at the facts:
That's right…it's LEGAL people! I don't care how much you may hate it; the fact is that it is legal. Let me explain why this is getting my no-frills black boxer briefs from H&M in such a twist…
As a society, we have begun defining "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness" as broadly as it ever has been defined. It used to mean that we are free to pursue what we wish, how we wish, provided of course that we aren't hurting or holding down anyone else. Great! That's how life should be! Do what you like, do what you love, just don't mess with anyone else's life! These days though, it's beginning to get more of a "you have no right to do anything that I don't like" sorta feel to it. What the fuck?? Where did this ideology come from?? People seem to think these days that if they don't like something, they have every right never to be exposed to it. "I don't like cigarette smoke, ergo, vis-à-vis, concordantly, you have no right to expose ME to it!!" To expose YOU?? Listen, I smoke occasionally. Not real often, but sometimes it just feels too damn good to pass up. Yeah, I will acknowledge that it's nasty, disgusting, and terrible for both my breath and my health. If you don't like it, DON'T STAND NEXT TO ME GOD DAMNIT!! It's a free country, which does NOT mean that you get to stand your ass comfortably anywhere you damn well feel like. It means that, if something is bothering you, you have every right to LEAVE. Living here does not mean that you get to have everything smell like motherfuckin' roses all the god damned time.
The entire idea behind a "free country" is to provide a society where everybody can feel free to live their lives as they wish. If somebody wants to destroy their body, that is their business, not yours. Yes, I understand that secondhand smoke is not healthy, but unless somebody is holding you down and blowing it in your face, shut up. In other words, as long as you have the ability to remove yourself from a situation that upsets you, there is no reason for you to bitch to me or anyone else. Of course, this requires that you let go of the pride that has been instilled within your blackened soul. This requires that you not think along the lines of "well why should I have to leave? Why don't YOU leave?" I will tell you why: because I am doing nothing illegal. If that means you can’t go to restaurants because they allow smoking and you can't stand to be near it, well it sucks to be you, but that's the way it is.
What's that? "It's not fair" you say? It's not up to me to say whether it is or is not fair – I won't presume to make a call like that – but who ever said life, or this country, is fair? There's a reason it doesn't read "life, liberty and the pursuit of fairness." Shit isn't fair, deal with it or move to a communist state where the ideal is for every person to receive the exact same fucking thing…no more, no less. That's fair.
But it's not free. If you truly want to live in a free country, there always will be haves and have-nots. There will be people with more, and people with less. Most importantly though, there will be so much shit that you cannot stand that it'll make your ears blue and your blood boil. And that's the tricky part about living as we live: learning to put up and deal with everything that we disagree with that we allow everyone to do, regardless of whether that disagreement be based on physical issues, ideological issues, child-rearing issues, or issues violating your own personal fundamental philosophies. I can't ever recall anybody warning us how hard it would be, but conversely nobody ever said that living free was easy either.
I love my country, I really do, but we Americans have to ditch this arrogant, indignant feeling of entitlement to be exposed only to what we want and are comfortable with, and nothing else. If we succeed in legislating preference, we are going to end up as one massive country of clones, and lose all of that wonderful (albeit sometimes infuriating) diversity that we cherish so dearly.
Freedom is uncomfortable...get used to it.
There is a disturbing trend that's been growing and growing and growing, so much that it's grown to near epidemic levels. Tell me if this sounds familiar:
"Boy I love this country! We're the melting pot of the world, giving us such a wonderful mixture of cultures, preferences, foods, drinks, games, toys, personalities, shoes, styles and languages. More than anything, I love that I am free to be me, along with everybody else!"
Notice anything askew in that paragraph? No? Read it again, and pay more attention this time to the last sentence. I can wait...
We have reached a point in this country where the prevalent stance toward diversity is "everybody is free to be me." NOT themselves! The issue that's gotten me riled up this time round happens to be smoking. Look at the facts:
- inhaling smoke of any kind is toxic
- when not used to it, cigarette smoke smells disgusting
- smoking can adversely affect one's health
- smoking can be extremely irritating to non-smokers
- smoking is nasty
- smoking is legal
That's right…it's LEGAL people! I don't care how much you may hate it; the fact is that it is legal. Let me explain why this is getting my no-frills black boxer briefs from H&M in such a twist…
As a society, we have begun defining "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness" as broadly as it ever has been defined. It used to mean that we are free to pursue what we wish, how we wish, provided of course that we aren't hurting or holding down anyone else. Great! That's how life should be! Do what you like, do what you love, just don't mess with anyone else's life! These days though, it's beginning to get more of a "you have no right to do anything that I don't like" sorta feel to it. What the fuck?? Where did this ideology come from?? People seem to think these days that if they don't like something, they have every right never to be exposed to it. "I don't like cigarette smoke, ergo, vis-à-vis, concordantly, you have no right to expose ME to it!!" To expose YOU?? Listen, I smoke occasionally. Not real often, but sometimes it just feels too damn good to pass up. Yeah, I will acknowledge that it's nasty, disgusting, and terrible for both my breath and my health. If you don't like it, DON'T STAND NEXT TO ME GOD DAMNIT!! It's a free country, which does NOT mean that you get to stand your ass comfortably anywhere you damn well feel like. It means that, if something is bothering you, you have every right to LEAVE. Living here does not mean that you get to have everything smell like motherfuckin' roses all the god damned time.
The entire idea behind a "free country" is to provide a society where everybody can feel free to live their lives as they wish. If somebody wants to destroy their body, that is their business, not yours. Yes, I understand that secondhand smoke is not healthy, but unless somebody is holding you down and blowing it in your face, shut up. In other words, as long as you have the ability to remove yourself from a situation that upsets you, there is no reason for you to bitch to me or anyone else. Of course, this requires that you let go of the pride that has been instilled within your blackened soul. This requires that you not think along the lines of "well why should I have to leave? Why don't YOU leave?" I will tell you why: because I am doing nothing illegal. If that means you can’t go to restaurants because they allow smoking and you can't stand to be near it, well it sucks to be you, but that's the way it is.
What's that? "It's not fair" you say? It's not up to me to say whether it is or is not fair – I won't presume to make a call like that – but who ever said life, or this country, is fair? There's a reason it doesn't read "life, liberty and the pursuit of fairness." Shit isn't fair, deal with it or move to a communist state where the ideal is for every person to receive the exact same fucking thing…no more, no less. That's fair.
But it's not free. If you truly want to live in a free country, there always will be haves and have-nots. There will be people with more, and people with less. Most importantly though, there will be so much shit that you cannot stand that it'll make your ears blue and your blood boil. And that's the tricky part about living as we live: learning to put up and deal with everything that we disagree with that we allow everyone to do, regardless of whether that disagreement be based on physical issues, ideological issues, child-rearing issues, or issues violating your own personal fundamental philosophies. I can't ever recall anybody warning us how hard it would be, but conversely nobody ever said that living free was easy either.
I love my country, I really do, but we Americans have to ditch this arrogant, indignant feeling of entitlement to be exposed only to what we want and are comfortable with, and nothing else. If we succeed in legislating preference, we are going to end up as one massive country of clones, and lose all of that wonderful (albeit sometimes infuriating) diversity that we cherish so dearly.
Freedom is uncomfortable...get used to it.
Monday, August 28, 2006
office perils
Damnit, I can't find a comfortable combination of settings on this damn chair this damn morning, and it's damn well pissing me off. Why did they have to give me a chair with variables? If the chair had one setting, BAM, I'd be fine with it. Emeril style baby. But no. The damn thing has to offer variety, meaning that I'm always going to assume there's a setting out there more comfortable than the current spine-crippler.
Damn them all.
Damn them all.
Thursday, June 8, 2006
When things look down...
May 30, 2006 6:10 am - Dallas/Ft. Worth International Airport
Holy...sweet...jesus...what a night. I was supposed to fly from Dallas/Ft. Worth (DFW) last night into O'Hare and arrive at 11:00 pm. At the moment it's just after 6 in the morning, and I fly out of O'Hare at 2pm bound for London. It's been a long 9 hours.
My flight was delayed late, and finally canceled. We were given hotel vouchers to receive a "Distressed Passenger Rate" of $49.00 (plus tax) from a nearby hotel. To American Airlines' credit, it wasn't their fault; the weather in Chicago turned. Even so, it still meant that the absolute soonest I could get home was 10:50 am this morning: too late for me to get my butt home, repack, and get back to O'Hare in time to check in. Needless to say, my heart sank rather quickly.
And so I was on the phone late into the night trying to get everything sorted out. It remained firmly unsorted. I decided not to stay in the hotel (thus foregoing a bed), and opted instead to curl up in a corner at DFW so I could get up early enough to be the first on standby for the 6:15 am flight. Over the course of my life I've noticed that when circumstances are at their toughest, people never fail to come through. As always, this time was no exception.
I was curled up last night in a big, bright, cold, empty airport, sporting sunglasses and an mp3 player plugged into my head. With nothing to use as a pillow, I was determined to re-create the ancient art used by Tibetan monks high in the mountains of hard, flat-surfaced sleeping. It was a poor, poor re-creation. As I was trying to drift off I heard quite the obnoxious sound approaching. I could see from the reflection in the window I was against that it was two guys pushing a big plastic dumpsteron wheels collecting the trash. No surprise; it was the middle of the night. What WAS a surprise though was as soon as one saw me lying there, he tapped the other, pointed me out, and motioned for him to be quiet. TOTALLY unexpected, and done purely out of kindness and respect. It's always nice to know you're not benig completely ignored.
I awoke around 1:30 am, shivering. Being in Texas, I can only assume they crank the ac mercilessly. I stumbled, half asleep, to the other side of the hallway and collapsed into a corner there, hoping that being away from the window would help. It didn't, but as I lay there I was aware of a woman driving a floor waxer gliding by. A minute or two later she returned, but this time stopped right next to me. I looked up to see her offering me a red cotton airline blanket she filched from a locker somewhere! I drifted back off to sleep, warm and beaming.
Holy...sweet...jesus...what a night. I was supposed to fly from Dallas/Ft. Worth (DFW) last night into O'Hare and arrive at 11:00 pm. At the moment it's just after 6 in the morning, and I fly out of O'Hare at 2pm bound for London. It's been a long 9 hours.
My flight was delayed late, and finally canceled. We were given hotel vouchers to receive a "Distressed Passenger Rate" of $49.00 (plus tax) from a nearby hotel. To American Airlines' credit, it wasn't their fault; the weather in Chicago turned. Even so, it still meant that the absolute soonest I could get home was 10:50 am this morning: too late for me to get my butt home, repack, and get back to O'Hare in time to check in. Needless to say, my heart sank rather quickly.
And so I was on the phone late into the night trying to get everything sorted out. It remained firmly unsorted. I decided not to stay in the hotel (thus foregoing a bed), and opted instead to curl up in a corner at DFW so I could get up early enough to be the first on standby for the 6:15 am flight. Over the course of my life I've noticed that when circumstances are at their toughest, people never fail to come through. As always, this time was no exception.
I was curled up last night in a big, bright, cold, empty airport, sporting sunglasses and an mp3 player plugged into my head. With nothing to use as a pillow, I was determined to re-create the ancient art used by Tibetan monks high in the mountains of hard, flat-surfaced sleeping. It was a poor, poor re-creation. As I was trying to drift off I heard quite the obnoxious sound approaching. I could see from the reflection in the window I was against that it was two guys pushing a big plastic dumpsteron wheels collecting the trash. No surprise; it was the middle of the night. What WAS a surprise though was as soon as one saw me lying there, he tapped the other, pointed me out, and motioned for him to be quiet. TOTALLY unexpected, and done purely out of kindness and respect. It's always nice to know you're not benig completely ignored.
I awoke around 1:30 am, shivering. Being in Texas, I can only assume they crank the ac mercilessly. I stumbled, half asleep, to the other side of the hallway and collapsed into a corner there, hoping that being away from the window would help. It didn't, but as I lay there I was aware of a woman driving a floor waxer gliding by. A minute or two later she returned, but this time stopped right next to me. I looked up to see her offering me a red cotton airline blanket she filched from a locker somewhere! I drifted back off to sleep, warm and beaming.
Monday, May 29, 2006
Memorial Day
Memorial Day weekend, 2006. The second installment of a three-part series including action, adventure, sorrow, drama, shock, horror (almost exclusively Japanese), and always a surprise ending. And beginning. Usually a surprise middle too. Featuring me. To be honest, it'd have to have a pretty damn good trailer to get me watching. But that's me.
Last weekend I visited Florida for my sister's graduation. It really was a great time; I got to see my whole family. I cannot remember the last time we were all together. The sun was amazing, the sand nearly whiter than I was, and everyone was in great spirits! Granted I still managed to find reasons to segregate myself and get emotional over silly things, but I've come to see a certain amount of that as unavoidable in my life. aka I'm used to it.
And now I'm in Albuquerque, New Mexico! I'll have you know that I spent a great deal of time learning how to spell this damn city's name, and I'm a bit proud of myself! This weekend (yesterday) was Mark Scully and KT LaBadie's wedding! I've known Mark since high school, and I've been overjoyed to find KT an absolutely delightful person. This weekend was practically a high school reunion for me...which is always a bit sketchy. While I am the same person I was in high school, you wouldn't know it, and it's always strange (and a little frightening) to be back with the same old group from so long ago. I disappeared a few times during some of the parties (which took place every single night, much to my delight!), and grew melancholy once or twice, but overall it was a spectacular weekend. One of the best I've had in quite some time in fact! It truly was wonderful seeing so many old friends, and the new friends I've found have me quite intrigued. I dig intrigue. The future always keeps me guessing. The damn tease.
Last weekend I visited Florida for my sister's graduation. It really was a great time; I got to see my whole family. I cannot remember the last time we were all together. The sun was amazing, the sand nearly whiter than I was, and everyone was in great spirits! Granted I still managed to find reasons to segregate myself and get emotional over silly things, but I've come to see a certain amount of that as unavoidable in my life. aka I'm used to it.
And now I'm in Albuquerque, New Mexico! I'll have you know that I spent a great deal of time learning how to spell this damn city's name, and I'm a bit proud of myself! This weekend (yesterday) was Mark Scully and KT LaBadie's wedding! I've known Mark since high school, and I've been overjoyed to find KT an absolutely delightful person. This weekend was practically a high school reunion for me...which is always a bit sketchy. While I am the same person I was in high school, you wouldn't know it, and it's always strange (and a little frightening) to be back with the same old group from so long ago. I disappeared a few times during some of the parties (which took place every single night, much to my delight!), and grew melancholy once or twice, but overall it was a spectacular weekend. One of the best I've had in quite some time in fact! It truly was wonderful seeing so many old friends, and the new friends I've found have me quite intrigued. I dig intrigue. The future always keeps me guessing. The damn tease.
Friday, March 3, 2006
Thursday, February 16, 2006
let's all help each other out
networking
function: verb
transitive senses
'net-"w&rk·ing
function: verb
transitive senses
'net-"w&rk·ing
- connecting with people of like interests for the purpose of uncovering opportunities, identifying landmines and learning of best practices.
- the ability to tie more than one component together through protocols (e.g. TCP/IP)
- granting unwarranted favors and offering congeniality in excess to those individuals one concludes to be better than everyone else based on what one can acquire from the individual in question
synonyms: ass kissing, sucking up, kiss assing, brownnosing, schmoozing, working the crowd, sucking at life, “teachers pet”ing
I fucking hate networking! Call it whatever the hell you want – sucking up, kissing ass, and anything else related to said execrations, I hate it! Holy sweet jesus turned black muslim. You know why my organization is nonpartisan? It's nonpartisan so that it can witness local affairs objectively and act, without bias, on any corruption it happens to uncover. Of course, that was when it was founded…over a hundred years ago. TODAY it's nonpartisan so that it can suck fat, hairy politician ass from any and every party affiliation it can find that’s willing to offer it money and/or prestige and/or favors and/or power and/or free shit and/or a lollipop.Earlier today the president of our ragtag little group forwarded me a copy of an email he sent to one of our members. Because I’d rather not get my skinny ass fired, I’m changing the names of all individuals and companies. Our organization is now the “Urban Group of Des Moines.” Our president is now “Fred.” The organization of the guy to whom he’s writing is now “DHJ Construction.”
All he wrote to me was:
F.Y.I.
Thanks
Fred
This is an e-mail that he must have sent to some guy who must've asked him something about our Annual Dinner that's coming up. It's a big deal for us, costing $250 per person, $3,000 for a dinner sponsor (table of 10, 2 tickets to the honoree reception, and a listing on the program and our website), and $5,000 for a dinner host (preferred seating, table of 10, 5 tickets to the honoree reception, event signage, and a listing on the program and our website with their logo). It went a little something like this:
1. Thank you so much for your continued support of the Urban Group of Des Moines, Iowa’s premier public policy forum.
2. When DHJ Construction purchases a table at our Annual Dinner, the value of the tickets at that table are for DHJ employees only.
3. Any public servants in attendance are guests of the Urban Group of Des Moines.
4. The Urban Group of Des Moines merely sprinkles these public servants throughout the 500-person ballroom as a "thank you" for their contributions to the Urban Group of Des Moines.
5. No value of the tickets(s) is attributable to DHJ Construction as these public servants are guests of the Urban Group of Des Moines, the sponsor of the event.
Thank you.
Fuck I wish I was bulimic so I could make myself ralph right now. Maybe I'll just go sit on a fork.
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
sex, violence, children, & shit
I love the unpredictability of the weather here! All of last week was extraordinary – not at all akin to the typical Chicago winter – but one day in particular stands out above the rest; partly because of the weather, though I have to admit largely due to a walk I took.
It was mid-afternoon, somewhere around 3:30 or so, and it was just perfect. I was perfectly comfortable in my light jacket due to the temperature sitting in the low 60’s, and everybody was out to enjoy it with me! There were the scores of Chicago businessmen and women tending to their matters as usual, save for the smiles sported on their faces as naturally as the headsets sported on their ears; couples, hand-in-hand, strolling leisurely in and out of the fast-paced stream of bodies; families on outings with their kids for no reasons other than each others’ company in the sun; men, women and children walking every kind of pet imaginable, from cats to dogs, lizards and fish; the warm sun just glinting off the western wing of flight 172 as it soared into the upper portion of the stately Aon Center; students sitting in every nook and cranny, briefly exposing their souls in the pages of their journals as only a written language can allow. I felt silly (and a little like a corny 16 year-old poet!) thinking it, but I couldn’t help but feel like I was connected to every other living thing in sight!
As is often the case with connections though, it had to end at some point. And boy did it end. It really ended. Not only did it end, it was ruined! Like a rock and roll classic covered by Barbara Streisand, it was destroyed! I was passing the Chicago Cultural Center. Ten yards ahead of me there was a 26, nearly 27 year-old girl named Sarah on her way to a volunteer position she’d held with a soup kitchen since her 16th birthday, nearly eleven years ago. She was wearing a lovely white sundress she had bought just two days earlier during a sale at Marshall Field’s. We didn’t know each other. As she was dropping some change into a homeless kid’s empty carnation baby food tin, a gust of wind came in suddenly from the lake, catching her dress as if it was nothing at all, exposing her thong! I was caught so unprepared that I actually saw one entire bare cheek before quickly closing my eyes out of shame for her. I can only imagine what must have happened to those not blessed by God with above average ocular reflexes like mine.
While I managed to blind myself temporarily before any serious damage was done, my hands, unfortunately, happened to be full at the time, preventing me from blocking out her playful exclamation of “shit!” My ears were burned; my mind: corrupted. My soul ached for all the kids who now would grow up perverted, bestial sex maniacs, raping children and loving cats until consumed by the flames of hell…all due to the psychological scarring inflicted upon them at the corner of Randolph and Michigan. I think I even saw a young husband and new father of paternal twins cross himself and utter a quick prayer for them as he plummeted at 132 mph from the 67th floor of the roaring Aon Center, the blue/orange flame arcing behind him a poignant reminder of the day Satan was cast out of paradise into the foul black pits of depravity. I sighed, shook my head, and continued my walk.
GOD that killed me to write! I won’t even tell you how many times I had to burn myself just to keep from cutting myself out of guilt over what was spewing out of this keyboard. It was not, however, without a point. Or an agenda, for all you people (out of the none who actually read this) who now hate me and want to make it sound eviler. The point (or agenda) is to bring to light the absurd priorities we’ve got in this country…along with the fact that we all seem to be supporting them without even thinking first! I was sitting in a coffee shop for my initial brainstorming about this, and I caught myself acting on these priorities without even realizing it. I had been scribbling ideas for the title along the top of the page until I found the one that now rests obscenely at the top of this abomination. I was eating a cup of yogurt, and purposely had placed the folded foil top over the word ‘sex,’ leaving ‘children & shit’ exposed. I would rather have had a cute girl walk by and spy the latter over the former, leaving her wondering what in gods name I could be writing about that warranted a title that included children and shit instead of curious what I was writing about sex.
I’m ashamed to be part of a culture that advocates conditioning kids not only to accept, but to enjoy the most heinous, hate-filled, hostile, ummmmmmm…horrific…horrendous…offenses against others, while simultaneously insuring their immediate shock and absolute outrage when presented with another’s strong opinion or even partially-nude body. What the fuck? How did we come to consider the beauty of our natural form and the freaking awesome power of language raw filth while ensuring that no one bats an eye in the presence of intentional violence?
The indications are all over the fucking place. As much as I hate to bring up such a clichéd example, take a look at what we can and do watch on tv these days. On any given day we’re shown dramatic assassinations, graphic hate crimes, killings, beatings, rude behavior, George W. Bush (think that word combo will get me red-flagged somewhere?), torture, blood, Renee Zellweger (see: torture), and pretty much every other way, clever and otherwise, to inflict pain on another person. I’m considering learning a martial art just to fend off people who want my seat on the bus in the future.
Now DON’T go and get me wrong! As terrible as all that shit is, I’m totally, 100% for it. That’s the great thing about this country: I don’t have to agree with everything that’s available! Do you have any idea how much time it would take for me to hear, consider, and pass judgment on every damned idea out there before letting them out? I’ve got my own shit to do. What’s upsetting me becomes clearer when you take a look at what we can’t and don’t watch: nipples. Everybody likes nipples.
Ok, so my point (or agenda) runs a touch deeper than that. Somehow we all have managed to decide that even a partially-exposed person is just plain wrong. Don’t even try to endorse the fully-exposed ones, you’ll be burned at the stake! What is so damn terrible about a kid seeing a naked person??** Just as with anything else, a person exposed to something repeatedly over the course of their life will cease to be surprised and/or amazed and/or shocked and/or corrupted by it. Lest we forget, it wasn’t all that long ago when merely the sight of a woman in an office, WORKING, was enough to incite outrage and indignation. Needless to say, we’re kinda used to it these days, and most of time don’t even bother looking twice (unless she’s hot).
Believe it or not, the human body is no exception. If kids grew up in an atmosphere that didn’t condemn it, seeing a bare boob on tv would upset/pervert them no more than seeing an bare ankle (which, incidentally, used to be forbidden territory). HOWEVER, outlawing something, making a huge fuss over shielding kids, especially teenagers, from something, is quite possibly the best known method of cultivating obsession in the person being shielded. Go tell a teenager he can’t go somewhere. You now know exactly where to look should he ever run away. Or tell a girl she can’t have a drink. She’ll be plastered by dusk. Again, I’m not suggesting we encourage all these things; that also falls under making a fuss. JUST RELAX! You want an example? Check out Europe, that satanic continent that serves alcohol to anyone who can reach the bar. Hardly any drunk driving. Hardly any binge drinking. Hardly any cases of alcohol poisoning. They don’t encourage OR discourage taking a drink, and as a result, the kids shrug it off!
Kung Fu masters in Northern China have an ancient training technique: they punch gravel. Or sand. Depending on their level of expertise. More specifically, they punch, repeatedly, into a drum filled with sand or small rocks every…fucking…day. What this accomplishes is a buildup of calluses across their knuckles enabling them to punch directly through my shin without any pain at all. They can punch solid brick walls without flinching, decimate tree limbs without getting any of those little splinters, and shatter bones as if they were cheetos (the puff kind, not the originals…those fuckers got damned hard when they got stale). Those guys and their long beards rock.
While I do have a thing for Asians, there’s another more important reason I bring that up. Repeated exposure lessens meaning. There. That’s it. That’s my point (or agenda). If I see a man shot once a day, every day, for 17 years, I’m not gonna care anymore. I’ll be too used to it for it to matter. I DON’T WANT THAT!! I want to care! When I see a village bombed, I want to hurt! I want to be shocked and frightened and feel panicky and sick to my stomach!
I want to have to leave the room so I can cry without embarrassing myself.
As it is, I’ve seen so much violence in my life that if I want to cry, I’ve got to psych myself into it. The images help, but they certainly won’t do it on their own anymore. I’m not trying to pick only on tv, but being the most widespread and entrenched form of media in our culture it has more opportunity than most to communicate.
That being said, I do have a reason, aside from shock, for picking the example I used in the opening. A&E is premiering a made for A&E movie called, surprise surprise, Flight 93. The tagline? “September 11, 2001: Four terrorists wanted to turn Flight 93 into a weapon. Forty brave passengers and crew stopped it from reaching its target.” NOT ONLY is it not enough that it happened and all those people were killed, now they’ve decided to show it to us again and again and again and again until we view it as nothing more than FUCKING ENTERTAINMENT! Way to profit off of their memory, you fucktards. You wanna see what I’m talking about? Take a look...they’ve got links to the schedule, the trailer, and their online store. If they had any decency, or even common sense, they’d donate every penny they brought in from retail and ad sales to something. Anything. No, fuck that. If they had any decency they never would have considered this asinine project. But that’s another bitch session altogether.
The other thing I brought up earlier was language. What is everybody’s problem with language used to emphasize what a person feels is important? Fuck! That’s what makes language so damned powerful! To paraphrase Penn & Teller: as soon as you legislate a word should not be said, you lock in that word’s value. Being symbols, words are pointless without meaning, and to announce to everyone that they should not be used under any circumstances succeeds only in giving them more meaning than ever. Tell people they shouldn’t say something, they’ll add it to a protest to get your attention. And it’ll work. To suggest that I should say shoot instead of shit, dang instead of damn, fudge instead of fuck, or shit instead of Bush, isn’t suggesting that I talk about more pleasant things, but that I talk about the same offensive thoughts I’m having in a way that doesn’t offend anyone. What’s wrong with getting offended? When you’re offended you act! What’s wrong with acting? Besides Renee Zellweger? Dickheads like the FCC don’t ask that we be more accepting and tolerant of each other, only that we politely continue to speak to each other in hate. It’s not the message that matters, just the wrapping paper.
For the first time in my life, I’m embarrassed to be from my country. I love America. I love Americans. I love everything that America stands for. I just don’t understand why we’re acting in direct opposition to that stance.
**For all of the officials from the NSA, the FBI, and the National Coalition for the Protection of Children and Families who are reading this to determine whether or not I’m a threat, I am not suggesting that we sit our kids down in front of your home computers and show them the downloaded videos from your private collection, regardless of how much you want me to be, so don’t put words in my mouth.
It was mid-afternoon, somewhere around 3:30 or so, and it was just perfect. I was perfectly comfortable in my light jacket due to the temperature sitting in the low 60’s, and everybody was out to enjoy it with me! There were the scores of Chicago businessmen and women tending to their matters as usual, save for the smiles sported on their faces as naturally as the headsets sported on their ears; couples, hand-in-hand, strolling leisurely in and out of the fast-paced stream of bodies; families on outings with their kids for no reasons other than each others’ company in the sun; men, women and children walking every kind of pet imaginable, from cats to dogs, lizards and fish; the warm sun just glinting off the western wing of flight 172 as it soared into the upper portion of the stately Aon Center; students sitting in every nook and cranny, briefly exposing their souls in the pages of their journals as only a written language can allow. I felt silly (and a little like a corny 16 year-old poet!) thinking it, but I couldn’t help but feel like I was connected to every other living thing in sight!
As is often the case with connections though, it had to end at some point. And boy did it end. It really ended. Not only did it end, it was ruined! Like a rock and roll classic covered by Barbara Streisand, it was destroyed! I was passing the Chicago Cultural Center. Ten yards ahead of me there was a 26, nearly 27 year-old girl named Sarah on her way to a volunteer position she’d held with a soup kitchen since her 16th birthday, nearly eleven years ago. She was wearing a lovely white sundress she had bought just two days earlier during a sale at Marshall Field’s. We didn’t know each other. As she was dropping some change into a homeless kid’s empty carnation baby food tin, a gust of wind came in suddenly from the lake, catching her dress as if it was nothing at all, exposing her thong! I was caught so unprepared that I actually saw one entire bare cheek before quickly closing my eyes out of shame for her. I can only imagine what must have happened to those not blessed by God with above average ocular reflexes like mine.
While I managed to blind myself temporarily before any serious damage was done, my hands, unfortunately, happened to be full at the time, preventing me from blocking out her playful exclamation of “shit!” My ears were burned; my mind: corrupted. My soul ached for all the kids who now would grow up perverted, bestial sex maniacs, raping children and loving cats until consumed by the flames of hell…all due to the psychological scarring inflicted upon them at the corner of Randolph and Michigan. I think I even saw a young husband and new father of paternal twins cross himself and utter a quick prayer for them as he plummeted at 132 mph from the 67th floor of the roaring Aon Center, the blue/orange flame arcing behind him a poignant reminder of the day Satan was cast out of paradise into the foul black pits of depravity. I sighed, shook my head, and continued my walk.
GOD that killed me to write! I won’t even tell you how many times I had to burn myself just to keep from cutting myself out of guilt over what was spewing out of this keyboard. It was not, however, without a point. Or an agenda, for all you people (out of the none who actually read this) who now hate me and want to make it sound eviler. The point (or agenda) is to bring to light the absurd priorities we’ve got in this country…along with the fact that we all seem to be supporting them without even thinking first! I was sitting in a coffee shop for my initial brainstorming about this, and I caught myself acting on these priorities without even realizing it. I had been scribbling ideas for the title along the top of the page until I found the one that now rests obscenely at the top of this abomination. I was eating a cup of yogurt, and purposely had placed the folded foil top over the word ‘sex,’ leaving ‘children & shit’ exposed. I would rather have had a cute girl walk by and spy the latter over the former, leaving her wondering what in gods name I could be writing about that warranted a title that included children and shit instead of curious what I was writing about sex.
I’m ashamed to be part of a culture that advocates conditioning kids not only to accept, but to enjoy the most heinous, hate-filled, hostile, ummmmmmm…horrific…horrendous…offenses against others, while simultaneously insuring their immediate shock and absolute outrage when presented with another’s strong opinion or even partially-nude body. What the fuck? How did we come to consider the beauty of our natural form and the freaking awesome power of language raw filth while ensuring that no one bats an eye in the presence of intentional violence?
The indications are all over the fucking place. As much as I hate to bring up such a clichéd example, take a look at what we can and do watch on tv these days. On any given day we’re shown dramatic assassinations, graphic hate crimes, killings, beatings, rude behavior, George W. Bush (think that word combo will get me red-flagged somewhere?), torture, blood, Renee Zellweger (see: torture), and pretty much every other way, clever and otherwise, to inflict pain on another person. I’m considering learning a martial art just to fend off people who want my seat on the bus in the future.
Now DON’T go and get me wrong! As terrible as all that shit is, I’m totally, 100% for it. That’s the great thing about this country: I don’t have to agree with everything that’s available! Do you have any idea how much time it would take for me to hear, consider, and pass judgment on every damned idea out there before letting them out? I’ve got my own shit to do. What’s upsetting me becomes clearer when you take a look at what we can’t and don’t watch: nipples. Everybody likes nipples.
Ok, so my point (or agenda) runs a touch deeper than that. Somehow we all have managed to decide that even a partially-exposed person is just plain wrong. Don’t even try to endorse the fully-exposed ones, you’ll be burned at the stake! What is so damn terrible about a kid seeing a naked person??** Just as with anything else, a person exposed to something repeatedly over the course of their life will cease to be surprised and/or amazed and/or shocked and/or corrupted by it. Lest we forget, it wasn’t all that long ago when merely the sight of a woman in an office, WORKING, was enough to incite outrage and indignation. Needless to say, we’re kinda used to it these days, and most of time don’t even bother looking twice (unless she’s hot).
Believe it or not, the human body is no exception. If kids grew up in an atmosphere that didn’t condemn it, seeing a bare boob on tv would upset/pervert them no more than seeing an bare ankle (which, incidentally, used to be forbidden territory). HOWEVER, outlawing something, making a huge fuss over shielding kids, especially teenagers, from something, is quite possibly the best known method of cultivating obsession in the person being shielded. Go tell a teenager he can’t go somewhere. You now know exactly where to look should he ever run away. Or tell a girl she can’t have a drink. She’ll be plastered by dusk. Again, I’m not suggesting we encourage all these things; that also falls under making a fuss. JUST RELAX! You want an example? Check out Europe, that satanic continent that serves alcohol to anyone who can reach the bar. Hardly any drunk driving. Hardly any binge drinking. Hardly any cases of alcohol poisoning. They don’t encourage OR discourage taking a drink, and as a result, the kids shrug it off!
Kung Fu masters in Northern China have an ancient training technique: they punch gravel. Or sand. Depending on their level of expertise. More specifically, they punch, repeatedly, into a drum filled with sand or small rocks every…fucking…day. What this accomplishes is a buildup of calluses across their knuckles enabling them to punch directly through my shin without any pain at all. They can punch solid brick walls without flinching, decimate tree limbs without getting any of those little splinters, and shatter bones as if they were cheetos (the puff kind, not the originals…those fuckers got damned hard when they got stale). Those guys and their long beards rock.
While I do have a thing for Asians, there’s another more important reason I bring that up. Repeated exposure lessens meaning. There. That’s it. That’s my point (or agenda). If I see a man shot once a day, every day, for 17 years, I’m not gonna care anymore. I’ll be too used to it for it to matter. I DON’T WANT THAT!! I want to care! When I see a village bombed, I want to hurt! I want to be shocked and frightened and feel panicky and sick to my stomach!
I want to have to leave the room so I can cry without embarrassing myself.
As it is, I’ve seen so much violence in my life that if I want to cry, I’ve got to psych myself into it. The images help, but they certainly won’t do it on their own anymore. I’m not trying to pick only on tv, but being the most widespread and entrenched form of media in our culture it has more opportunity than most to communicate.
That being said, I do have a reason, aside from shock, for picking the example I used in the opening. A&E is premiering a made for A&E movie called, surprise surprise, Flight 93. The tagline? “September 11, 2001: Four terrorists wanted to turn Flight 93 into a weapon. Forty brave passengers and crew stopped it from reaching its target.” NOT ONLY is it not enough that it happened and all those people were killed, now they’ve decided to show it to us again and again and again and again until we view it as nothing more than FUCKING ENTERTAINMENT! Way to profit off of their memory, you fucktards. You wanna see what I’m talking about? Take a look...they’ve got links to the schedule, the trailer, and their online store. If they had any decency, or even common sense, they’d donate every penny they brought in from retail and ad sales to something. Anything. No, fuck that. If they had any decency they never would have considered this asinine project. But that’s another bitch session altogether.
The other thing I brought up earlier was language. What is everybody’s problem with language used to emphasize what a person feels is important? Fuck! That’s what makes language so damned powerful! To paraphrase Penn & Teller: as soon as you legislate a word should not be said, you lock in that word’s value. Being symbols, words are pointless without meaning, and to announce to everyone that they should not be used under any circumstances succeeds only in giving them more meaning than ever. Tell people they shouldn’t say something, they’ll add it to a protest to get your attention. And it’ll work. To suggest that I should say shoot instead of shit, dang instead of damn, fudge instead of fuck, or shit instead of Bush, isn’t suggesting that I talk about more pleasant things, but that I talk about the same offensive thoughts I’m having in a way that doesn’t offend anyone. What’s wrong with getting offended? When you’re offended you act! What’s wrong with acting? Besides Renee Zellweger? Dickheads like the FCC don’t ask that we be more accepting and tolerant of each other, only that we politely continue to speak to each other in hate. It’s not the message that matters, just the wrapping paper.
For the first time in my life, I’m embarrassed to be from my country. I love America. I love Americans. I love everything that America stands for. I just don’t understand why we’re acting in direct opposition to that stance.
**For all of the officials from the NSA, the FBI, and the National Coalition for the Protection of Children and Families who are reading this to determine whether or not I’m a threat, I am not suggesting that we sit our kids down in front of your home computers and show them the downloaded videos from your private collection, regardless of how much you want me to be, so don’t put words in my mouth.
Thursday, January 5, 2006
greece...journalized
The following are excerpts taken from my journal during the Ambassador trip to Greece. This is not my entire journal. There are a number of bits and pieces that I've purposely left out for your comfort. Mainly just boring things such as observations and gripes concerning, oh, the weather, poverty in Africa, girls, and other similar clusterfucks.
Enjoy!
Enjoy!
discothequing the night away
December 28, 2005
We're in Delphi tonight! We spent last night in Athens after arriving in the afternoon, and today we explored the Sactuary of Apollo and the Oracle of Delphi. The ambassadors are incredible. They're unlike any high schoolers I've ever known. They notice everything and constantly make the most profound observations, often without even realizing it.
But now to cut this short. Time to shower, shave and get ready for dinner and dancing at the discotheque!
room with a view
December 29, 2005
What a fantastic morning! I woke up around 6:00 am and stepped out onto the balcony, and amidst the stars I could see the villages surrounding the Bay of Corinth. Looming over them I could just see the snowcapped mountains, finally visible now that the clouds and rain had cleared. It was chilly, but I was perfectly comfortable even without my shirt. And then it happened: a rooster crowed. It was all so perfect it was bordering on absurd! Nik and Adam woke up cheerful without the wakeup call (which we never got!), and seemed to have slept just as well as I.
Breakfast was a buffet of breads, jams, coffee, juice, tea, hot cocoa, and a massive basket of hardboiled eggs; just what I needed! It helped that we dined just inside a marble terrace overlooking the aforementioned view, only from a higher vantage point.
We left Delphi soon after, passed through miles and miles of olive trees (which we saw them harvesting, an event that takes place once every two years!), and now we're driving along the winding rode that follows the Bay of Corinth to the bridge that leads to the Peloponnese. In about three hours we will be in Olympia, where we will spend the balance of the day and sleep tonight.
Foreign travel should be mandatory for teenagers.
fun and games before christ
December 29, 2005
I feel overwhelmed. We've just explored the ruins of the ancient, original Olympic games. They were larger than I can imagine, and built in a time so long ago that it's beyond my comprehension. I want to know when the first columns on the Temple of Zeus collapsed. Had it been abandoned already, or were there still those who worshipped him nearby to witness it? Were they shocked to see something so powerful and all mighty descend into ruin? Were they sad? Were they scared? Were they at all? Had everybody already given up on Zeus and the rest? How could they have left such a magnificant place behind them? What happened?
I feel overwhelmed. We've just explored the ruins of the ancient, original Olympic games. They were larger than I can imagine, and built in a time so long ago that it's beyond my comprehension. I want to know when the first columns on the Temple of Zeus collapsed. Had it been abandoned already, or were there still those who worshipped him nearby to witness it? Were they shocked to see something so powerful and all mighty descend into ruin? Were they sad? Were they scared? Were they at all? Had everybody already given up on Zeus and the rest? How could they have left such a magnificant place behind them? What happened?
in touch in olympia
December 30, 2005
Yesterday afternoon was beyond anything I ever could've imagined. I went for a long run: down the hill on which we were staying, from one end of Olympia to the other, until I found myself on a footpath outside of town. As the forest around me got denser and more like a jungle, the path slowly vanished until it was nothing more than a soggy, muddy creekbed...nearly unpassable. Instead of running at a normal stride, I was running and leaping between the few small semi-dry spots left. All signs of civilization disappreared; there were no sounds, no people. A little further up, I came onto a well-travelled path alongside the main river in Olympia, the name of which I do not recall, though I remember it being filled with a light-colored mud and fast-moving. I began imagining how many people, athletes, had run in this area over the last 3,000 years. It was at the point that I saw what I was running alongside: on my right, not ten feet away, underneath vines and covered in thick moss was an enormous, ancient wall. Made of giant stone blocks, it was set back into the wall of the valley, holding the earth back. There were no ropes, no fences, no signs telling me not to touch...I don't know why I didn't. I imagined it, but didn't even consider actually doing it. I wish I knew why.
Finally the wall faded away back into the slopes, and I continued along the path alone. But it wasn't long until I reached just the place I didn't expect to be: just outside of the grounds where the very first Olympics took place in 776 b.c., marked now only by the ruins of the magnificant buildings that once stood there. I likely was running in the many footsteps of the thousands of great athletes who had run in the Olympics so long ago. I wonder, did somebody my age pass by there after running for miles to get there? Was he excited by the sound of the crowds coming from the stadium? Was he scared?
After the long, steep run back, I found a grassy spot overlooking the town to do some push-ups and stretch. It was just dusk, and the lights were coming on below me. I spent nearly 20 minutes stretching. And when I was finished, to my surprise, I sat down and cried for another ten.
new year debacle
January 1, 2006
I'm smack in the middle of Monastiraki...a very Montmartre sort of place. Only Greek. It's quiet, not many people out on new years day.
Last night was crazy! We all did our own thing for new years, and the plan was to meet up afterwards in Syntagma Square and take cabs back to the Oscar Hotel, as the metro closed at 11:00 pm. What a mistake that was!! It took the group two hours of fighting with rude cab drivers in the cold to get home! It ended up being so absurdly terrible that I couldn't help but be light-hearted about it. Plus, quite a few of the ambs came into their own. Jason Miller was great. I could see how upset, insulted and tired he was, but without a word from any of us he stayed positive, put away his pride, and just kept working at getting us rides. We met at 12:30 am to go back; I got back in the last cab with Tim and Hank at 2:30 am sharp. I got to bed at 5:00 am after having some beers and chatting with them on their balcony.
What a way to bring in the new year!
by the sea, by the sea!
January 3, 2006
I just swan in the Mediterranean Sea!! God what a great feeling! Nothing can adequately express how incredible my body feels right now...I feel in the best shape of my life!
We're on a small cruise ship, about ready to leave our last stop of the day: Aegina. We stopped at the island of Hydra first, the Poros, and finally Aegina. All three have been breathtaking, though this one by far the most touristy. It's a good thing I'm going back home soon...one or two more days of this and I don't know if I'd ever be able to get back to normal!
I just swan in the Mediterranean Sea!! God what a great feeling! Nothing can adequately express how incredible my body feels right now...I feel in the best shape of my life!
We're on a small cruise ship, about ready to leave our last stop of the day: Aegina. We stopped at the island of Hydra first, the Poros, and finally Aegina. All three have been breathtaking, though this one by far the most touristy. It's a good thing I'm going back home soon...one or two more days of this and I don't know if I'd ever be able to get back to normal!
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