Ok, I realize this was posted in May (and truthfully, that's when I read it for the first time), but I was talking to a friend about it yesterday and it inspired me to look it back up. I love it. I couldn't possibly express my own feelings any better.
Watch It, Mac!
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
pleasant memories
I was going through some of my Flickr photos from past times, and I came across this one. I haven't thought about this day in a long time, but its simplicity and gentle memory still makes me smile.
I need more memories like this. I need to make more memories like this
I need more memories like this. I need to make more memories like this
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
behind the iron-clad rhetoric
So I really don't have the time at the moment to rant in excess, but in the process of cleaning my desk I was going through the notes I took during some of last week's events, and I found one that I just had to share.
On Monday September 24th we had Congresswoman Jan Schakowsky speak at a luncheon. I will shamelessly admit that I had never heard of her, and really knew nothing about her. Long story short, she gave a fascinating talk, filled with the passion of conviction that I so long to see in today's policy-makers. She talked about a smattering of different issues over the course of her presentation, which was just short of an hour, but the topic that struck me more than the others was the war. She recently was appointed to the
One other thing she mentioned saddened me just as greatly. The military PR machine has been cheering about how more and more of Baghdad's neighborhoods are safer, with violence ebbing significantly. Unfortunately, it's because in each neighborhood one sect has killed and/or driven out the other, creating a more segregated city than ever. We're basking in a victory that, in reality, is nothing more than the inevitable outcome of ethnic cleansing. And, as a tax-payer, I feel I'm a part of that victory.
Let me tell you, if that realization doesn't ruin your day, I don't know what will.
On Monday September 24th we had Congresswoman Jan Schakowsky speak at a luncheon. I will shamelessly admit that I had never heard of her, and really knew nothing about her. Long story short, she gave a fascinating talk, filled with the passion of conviction that I so long to see in today's policy-makers. She talked about a smattering of different issues over the course of her presentation, which was just short of an hour, but the topic that struck me more than the others was the war. She recently was appointed to the
- Car bombs are not considered sectarian violence
- Gunshots to the back of the head are included sectarian violence, but not to the front of the head
- Sunni on Sunni violence is not considered sectarian violence
- Shi‘ite on Shi‘ite violence is not considered sectarian violence
One other thing she mentioned saddened me just as greatly. The military PR machine has been cheering about how more and more of Baghdad's neighborhoods are safer, with violence ebbing significantly. Unfortunately, it's because in each neighborhood one sect has killed and/or driven out the other, creating a more segregated city than ever. We're basking in a victory that, in reality, is nothing more than the inevitable outcome of ethnic cleansing. And, as a tax-payer, I feel I'm a part of that victory.
Let me tell you, if that realization doesn't ruin your day, I don't know what will.
Saturday, September 29, 2007
what do you say?
It's been a terribly long time since I've given myself the time simply to sit in a coffee shop and write. The last time I can recall is when I skipped class to sit in the Starbucks just one block away and write 'Sex, Violence, Children and Shit.' That feels like half a lifetime ago. I've had so many things running through my head during the last two weeks - social issues, government rants, inconsistencies within commonly-held ideologies I've noticed, societal hypocrisies, etc. - and now that I have the perfect opportunity to focus on one of them ... I can't get excited about a single one. Why is that?
I'm in Moonstruck Chocolatier - my preferred establishment for the acquisition of tasty coffee drinks from friendly people every morning on my way to work - sitting in a wonderfully overstuffed leather chair drinking a well-made latte. I have no plans for the rest of the day, and nowhere I have to be until Monday morning. Perfect conditions for the solidification of until-now amorphous ponderings and their subsequent transfer onto paper as somewhat firm stances and ideas. You can lead a horse to water I suppose, but you can't make it pontificate. That's how the expression goes, right?
My latte has grown cold.
And now I've been sitting here for a solid 10 minutes repeating 'my latte has grown cold' over and over again in my head.
I'm tired of doing what I do. I'm tired of working hard every day to advance the agendas and social standings of others, only to have everything I do publicly credited to the associates of those for whom I'm working, when in reality it's those very same associates who in fact complicate the work I do with their almost non-existent involvement. What am I gaining from this job? A paycheck of course, but I can get one of those anywhere. Experience in event management and directing a small staff, but I've come to the realization that the bulk of what this organization has to offer I've already learned and am now merely repeating again and again. A kickass title, but I've long since let go of being impressed by those - even my own.
The reasons for staying certainly are less than compelling, except for the last one: what else do I do? I don't have a college degree, so that rules out quite a few jobs that would seem to be logical next steps to this one. I need to be challenged to stay engaged. I need to be improving something to stay interested. When I'm disengaged and disinterested, my brain seems to grow lethargic. Ideas become few and far in between. I can keep the energy and discipline to keep active for as long as I want, but activity without purpose is just as frustrating as drive without energy is disheartening. In the end both amount to nothing meaningful getting accomplished, and I can't be happy with that outcome. So what do I do?
I'm in Moonstruck Chocolatier - my preferred establishment for the acquisition of tasty coffee drinks from friendly people every morning on my way to work - sitting in a wonderfully overstuffed leather chair drinking a well-made latte. I have no plans for the rest of the day, and nowhere I have to be until Monday morning. Perfect conditions for the solidification of until-now amorphous ponderings and their subsequent transfer onto paper as somewhat firm stances and ideas. You can lead a horse to water I suppose, but you can't make it pontificate. That's how the expression goes, right?
My latte has grown cold.
And now I've been sitting here for a solid 10 minutes repeating 'my latte has grown cold' over and over again in my head.
I'm tired of doing what I do. I'm tired of working hard every day to advance the agendas and social standings of others, only to have everything I do publicly credited to the associates of those for whom I'm working, when in reality it's those very same associates who in fact complicate the work I do with their almost non-existent involvement. What am I gaining from this job? A paycheck of course, but I can get one of those anywhere. Experience in event management and directing a small staff, but I've come to the realization that the bulk of what this organization has to offer I've already learned and am now merely repeating again and again. A kickass title, but I've long since let go of being impressed by those - even my own.
The reasons for staying certainly are less than compelling, except for the last one: what else do I do? I don't have a college degree, so that rules out quite a few jobs that would seem to be logical next steps to this one. I need to be challenged to stay engaged. I need to be improving something to stay interested. When I'm disengaged and disinterested, my brain seems to grow lethargic. Ideas become few and far in between. I can keep the energy and discipline to keep active for as long as I want, but activity without purpose is just as frustrating as drive without energy is disheartening. In the end both amount to nothing meaningful getting accomplished, and I can't be happy with that outcome. So what do I do?
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
what makes guns more important than privacy?
Politics, to state the obvious, is full of contradictions and hypocrisy. Everyone knows that, I know, but I've begun thinking today about one hypocrisy in particular that irks me more than most ... which is saying something!
We as a country are being told (almost entirely by the neocons) that in order to fight the war on terrorism effectively, we must be willing to give up some of our precious freedoms, such as our freedom of privacy and freedom to be safe from unwarranted searches and seizures. We are being told that giving these up is absolutely essential to making our country safer and more secure.
Give up a few of your rights, and you can walk down the street feeling confident that you will not be attacked by a terrorist.
That's peachy, but my concern is this: most of the people who are saying these things are the very same people who are fighting AGAINST gun control legislation. There are kids getting shot in and around schools by other kids every day in this country, not to mention people using guns in violent crimes all the time. Enacting some form of gun control legislation surely would make it more difficult for a 14-year-old to get his/her hands on a Glock, and yet these people firmly refuse to give up that right in the name of safety and security. Plus, not everybody owns a gun (although an enormous amount does). I only bring that up because it indicates that gun laws don't apply to everyone, while the right to privacy does. That's not to say I think we should do away with freedoms that apply only to some citizens, but as long as we have a government willing to curb some of our freedoms, wouldn't it make sense to consider first the ones that don't apply to everyone?
I just don't understand how people can be willing to ask that we all give up freedoms such as privacy to make us safer and refuse to budge on freedoms such as the right of everyone to own a gun, when doing so would save lives on a daily basis.
Anybody got any thoughts?
We as a country are being told (almost entirely by the neocons) that in order to fight the war on terrorism effectively, we must be willing to give up some of our precious freedoms, such as our freedom of privacy and freedom to be safe from unwarranted searches and seizures. We are being told that giving these up is absolutely essential to making our country safer and more secure.
Give up a few of your rights, and you can walk down the street feeling confident that you will not be attacked by a terrorist.
That's peachy, but my concern is this: most of the people who are saying these things are the very same people who are fighting AGAINST gun control legislation. There are kids getting shot in and around schools by other kids every day in this country, not to mention people using guns in violent crimes all the time. Enacting some form of gun control legislation surely would make it more difficult for a 14-year-old to get his/her hands on a Glock, and yet these people firmly refuse to give up that right in the name of safety and security. Plus, not everybody owns a gun (although an enormous amount does). I only bring that up because it indicates that gun laws don't apply to everyone, while the right to privacy does. That's not to say I think we should do away with freedoms that apply only to some citizens, but as long as we have a government willing to curb some of our freedoms, wouldn't it make sense to consider first the ones that don't apply to everyone?
I just don't understand how people can be willing to ask that we all give up freedoms such as privacy to make us safer and refuse to budge on freedoms such as the right of everyone to own a gun, when doing so would save lives on a daily basis.
Anybody got any thoughts?
Tuesday, May 1, 2007
omigod! you invest?? that's hot!!
Piss off, Neil Simon, theatre as we know it is changing. And when I found out about it, I was pretty well sickened. But then I started thinking about it ...
How bout I explain? I read in The Economist about a new trend that's emerging on New York's theatre scene: hardcore investing. I say hardcore only because I realize that the term 'investing' really can mean anything. For example, theatre in particular requires of great deal of time be invested. But that's not what I'm talking about here. I'm talking about stereotypical investing: mutual funds, returns on investment, and enormous sums of green*.
In the past Wall Street and Broadway rarely, if ever, intersected (except, of course, where they actually intersect), and to so much as mention money while mingling with the artsy crowd would get you banned from the after-party. Why should money be a concern when we're talking art?
Well, while it doesn't necessarily have to be, we also are talking entertainment, and entertainment is big business. Did I say big business? I should've said staggering business. For example, everybody has seen (or at least is aware of) Legally Blonde, correct? What about Legally Blonde THE MUSICAL?!? Yes, that supremely-obnoxious, cotton candy pink-tinged moving picture - along with a dog so small it probably shouldn't exist - has moved on stage! But it doesn't stop merely by taking the story. This production seems essentially to be a live-action movie, complete with wealthy backers, product placements (including, but not limited to Red Bull, Pottery Barn, JetBlue airways, Magnum hair products, Tiffany jewels and UPS express delivery), and a roughly $13 million price tag. The only thing missing is the camera (they're still not allowed in the theater!).
Upon reading this I was outraged. How could they trivialize the fine institution that is the theatre like that? How could they commercially exploit the actors and actresses that have given their lives to this art?? How could they turn theatrical production into a gol-danged mutual fund??? My tender sensibilities were being greatly damaged by this disgrace!
I went to the bathroom and threw some water on my face. Surely this wasn't true. Was our culture truly caught in a downward spiral of capitalistic eccentricities, never again to see the expressions of true art? Well ... no. It's not. It is true that we live in a capitalistic society, and as such there always will be those people and entities willing to pump obscene amounts of money into anything that could pump obscene amounts back. To try to fight that would be to try to fight much of what we stand for. Suggesting that there are certain forms of art that cannot be exploited for money is very much akin to suggesting that there are certain things that cannot be joked about, which is absured!
While the theatre as we know it seems to be headed the way of motion pictures and music, that doesn't mean there will be no room left for individual artists to seek means of expression without being sponsored by a fortune 500 company (or 5). It only means they'll have to creatively adapt to the times, and considering some of the theatre junkies I know, that shouldn't be a problem.
*money
How bout I explain? I read in The Economist about a new trend that's emerging on New York's theatre scene: hardcore investing. I say hardcore only because I realize that the term 'investing' really can mean anything. For example, theatre in particular requires of great deal of time be invested. But that's not what I'm talking about here. I'm talking about stereotypical investing: mutual funds, returns on investment, and enormous sums of green*.
In the past Wall Street and Broadway rarely, if ever, intersected (except, of course, where they actually intersect), and to so much as mention money while mingling with the artsy crowd would get you banned from the after-party. Why should money be a concern when we're talking art?
Well, while it doesn't necessarily have to be, we also are talking entertainment, and entertainment is big business. Did I say big business? I should've said staggering business. For example, everybody has seen (or at least is aware of) Legally Blonde, correct? What about Legally Blonde THE MUSICAL?!? Yes, that supremely-obnoxious, cotton candy pink-tinged moving picture - along with a dog so small it probably shouldn't exist - has moved on stage! But it doesn't stop merely by taking the story. This production seems essentially to be a live-action movie, complete with wealthy backers, product placements (including, but not limited to Red Bull, Pottery Barn, JetBlue airways, Magnum hair products, Tiffany jewels and UPS express delivery), and a roughly $13 million price tag. The only thing missing is the camera (they're still not allowed in the theater!).
Upon reading this I was outraged. How could they trivialize the fine institution that is the theatre like that? How could they commercially exploit the actors and actresses that have given their lives to this art?? How could they turn theatrical production into a gol-danged mutual fund??? My tender sensibilities were being greatly damaged by this disgrace!
I went to the bathroom and threw some water on my face. Surely this wasn't true. Was our culture truly caught in a downward spiral of capitalistic eccentricities, never again to see the expressions of true art? Well ... no. It's not. It is true that we live in a capitalistic society, and as such there always will be those people and entities willing to pump obscene amounts of money into anything that could pump obscene amounts back. To try to fight that would be to try to fight much of what we stand for. Suggesting that there are certain forms of art that cannot be exploited for money is very much akin to suggesting that there are certain things that cannot be joked about, which is absured!
While the theatre as we know it seems to be headed the way of motion pictures and music, that doesn't mean there will be no room left for individual artists to seek means of expression without being sponsored by a fortune 500 company (or 5). It only means they'll have to creatively adapt to the times, and considering some of the theatre junkies I know, that shouldn't be a problem.
*money
Thursday, April 26, 2007
the delinquency that is creative writing
Main Entry: knee-jerk
Pronunciation: 'nE-"j&rk, -'j&rk
Function: adjective
: readily predictable : AUTOMATIC <knee-jerk reactions>;
also : reacting in a readily predictable way <knee-jerk liberals>
Pronunciation: 'nE-"j&rk, -'j&rk
Function: adjective
: readily predictable : AUTOMATIC <knee-jerk reactions>;
also : reacting in a readily predictable way <knee-jerk liberals>
Just thought I'd get that definition out of the way before yelling about it a bit.
I am furious! No, that doesn't quite capture it. Incredulous? Closer. Those will do for the time being anyway.
There's a little town just north and a wee bit west of here called Cary. On a typical day I'd have great difficulty restraining myself from disparaging it due to its sexually ambiguous name. I mean really, why would one give an otherwise perfectly normal town a unisex human name? It just doesn't make sense to me. It's like calling a town Frankie, or Pat, or Bora (masculine in Turkish and feminine in Albanian). But I digress.
Cary was in the paper this morning. At Cary-Grove High School there's a straight-A, Chinese-American senior named Allen Lee. By all accounts an excellent student. Lee, like so many other high school students in this country, is in a creative writing class. For the latest assignment this class was given, the teacher (who has not been named) instructed the students to 'communicate ideas and emotions through writing.' Great. Sounds like the makings of a decent creative writing class assignment.
So Lee did his homework, brought it to class, and turned it in. Then, on his way home later, HE WAS ARRESTED!! Was this bastard dealing drugs out of his locker? Did this asshole beat up some poor kid from the nearby middle school? Did this moral degenerate hold up the local minority-owned convenience store with an assault rifle while reading the Qur'an and raping a 9-year-old Tibetan child (male or female)? Oh no. If only that were it. This son of a bitch emoted.
This emotional essay – while containing absolutely ZERO threats against anyone - apparently was still disturbing enough to cause the teacher to report it to a supervisor and the principal. Fine, that's what you do. But then they called the god-damned cops on this kid, who in turn CHARGED HIM with disorderly conduct, despite the fact that the essay was not published or posted for public viewing. How does that even work?? According to Cary Police Chief Ron Delelio, disorderly conduct can apply when someone's writings disturb an individual. When the fuck did it become illegal in this country to fucking disturb someone?? And in an essay that was assigned in a high school class??
I understand if this kid had been tossing threats around. When something like the massacre at Virginia Tech occurs, we can't help but try to ensure something similar doesn't happen in the future. That's normal. That's human. But lacking threats, it is so unbelievably inappropriate to involve the police and give this kid a record for writing a paper he was told to write. It's a knee-jerk reaction based on current events, and school officials owe their students more personal consideration than that.
I'm not suggesting that it should have been ignored. Certainly warning signs for a possibly dangerous mindset should be watched for. But are we so damn terrified of our kids that the possibility of just talking to them is out of the question? What about their parents? What ever became of the parent-teacher conference? There are so many other avenues that should have been taken before charging this kid with a crime, which is probably the most counter-productive of them all. We want our kids expressing themselves. We want them telling us what they're thinking and feeling. No, it's not always going to be pleasant, but it's better than kids bottling everying up, not letting us in until it's too late.
Now, because of this panicked response, future students will wonder what is acceptable to be creative about, and what will get them cuffed and booked after school. What a terrible thing to have to consider when working on an essay ...
When did we turn into a country where we arrest and charge high school students with crimes for writing emotionally-charged essays that their teachers find upsetting?
I would love to hear your comments if you have any thoughts you'd like to post. Especially from anybody working with kids or in schools.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
what doesn't kill you ...
I had an interesting night. Come to think of it, I cannot actually recall a night … ever … where I experienced such levels of pure hatred and wantonly violent intentions.
I was chilling with a buddy of mine last night, over at his pad, when I get a text from Chris (my roommate and best friend of 11 years) at 10.29 saying nothing more than "What the FUCK is going on in our apartment?" Afterwards he called me up and informed me that one of our other roommates and her boyfriend (who has essentially been living with us without permission for a month or so now) had a friend over. Fine. They were apparently already quite drunk, and had been smoking it up in the dining room (fine and not fine), and evidently were pretty rowdy at that point. I got home not long after and naught had changed, so Chris and I just spent some time on the front porch, chatting.
Until we decided to head into the front room and watch a movie. That's when things got far more interesting. Due to aforementioned company's high levels of drunkenness (and quite possibly low levels of giving a shit), they were being pretty loud and obnoxious. So much so that we could hear them easily in the front room. Low and behold, they were discussing how deeply their (our roommate's and her boyfriend's) hatred for us ran. They talked about how much "they'd" like to move out, but how they were locked into the lease, but on the plus side Jay was getting free rent and utilities at our expense. They talked about how much they'd like to ruin our lives and make us pay for being such losers. They talked about how to best "destroy us."
A little bit of back-story. When this roommate moved in last September, she was as sweet as could be. She hung out with us, she chatted with us daily, we all cooked together, it was great. Then she met this guy (if that isn't cliché I don't know what is). Despite being nearly 30, this guy looks and acts like a 16-year-old wicked-mad goth kid. Pretty much at all times. Never in my life have I seen such an amazingly clear example of one person mentally poisoning another. Since then she's become confined to her room with him at all times. She's ceased to talk to us, look at us, or engage us in any way.
Back to the story. As if this didn't upset us enough, they continued to plow forward with their discussion. The boyfriend was proudly bragging about how – through living there – he had been able and continued to do so many things to us that "we didn't even know", and that if she (our roommate) would only give him permission he would "let himself loose" and "rage against" us. He would "reign down world war III upon" us. He would "destroy" us. As I said … pissed-off 16-year-old goth kid. This is of course in addition to all the other apparently terrible and disgusting things he's already been doing to us without our knowledge, such as peeing in every sink in the house with surprising regularity and lord knows what else. Obviously I don't trust any of the food in the house anymore, and this morning I took a few of my more prized (and pricey) possessions to the office for safekeeping. That was something else: he was constantly bragging about how soon he was going to wreak havoc upon us by destroying some of the things we care about more than anything. No idea what that could be, but it definitely will be interesting to see what impression he has of what we truly care about. After we went to bed they migrated to the front porch and proceeded to get louder, drunker, more obnoxious and more destructive. They were screaming into the night, cheering, yelling, and smashing beer bottle after beer bottle on the sidewalk out front. Chris went out once to request they be quiet. They didn't say anything for a few seconds, then the friend said "yeah, sure, no problem." Chris thanked them and went back to bed. As he was leaving he heard the friend quietly (and most likely in response to a glare from the boyfriend) say "what? At least I didn't kill him." They got louder, and I slept with my jacket against my door, just so I could know in the morning if anybody had entered my room. No one did. Even so, I only got an hour or so of sleep throughout the night.
I don't know what to do. I don't think there really is any answer that's going to work without giving us more problems before making it better. I'm perfectly happy letting her out of the lease and going to the expense of finding somebody else to sublet, but I honestly can't see either of them going willingly. As much as they obviously loathe us, to move out would take away his free ride and put them into a place not nearly as nice and most likely more expensive (we get a very good deal on our place). If they could even find a place, which undoubtedly would take some time. Moreover, that's a solution-oriented answer. I don't see them as being solution-oriented people. I see them as needing something to focus their hatred on, and I see them as, more than anything else, wanting to cause as much trouble and chaos as possible. They used the term "anarchy" far more than necessary.
I have no idea what to expect upon returning home. Honestly, I suspect that very little if anything will be out of order … if for no reason other than the fact that they were unbelievably drunk last night, and probably too hung-over today even to move, much less "reign down world war III upon" us. But hey, I've been surprised before. They certainly drink enough to have built up a healthy (or not) tolerance, and may just bypass the hangovers in lieu of "complete and utter anarchy." Told you they used it a lot.
And now I'm at work, completely exhausted and having gotten here 40 minutes early this morning just to get out of the house. I would be far less concerned about all of this if it were not for the fact that I long have suspected this guy to be very near the edge psychologically. In other words, I'm concerned there may be a possibility that he easily could become completely irrational and/or violent with little to no provocation. Of course, I could be wrong. He very likely could be a big, mean talker and little more. But how do I find out? Wait until he becomes violent with someone in the house – which may well never happen – all the while knowing he's probably peeing in all our food and doing god knows what else to us without our knowledge? I really would rather not.
Of course, it hasn't killed me yet …
I was chilling with a buddy of mine last night, over at his pad, when I get a text from Chris (my roommate and best friend of 11 years) at 10.29 saying nothing more than "What the FUCK is going on in our apartment?" Afterwards he called me up and informed me that one of our other roommates and her boyfriend (who has essentially been living with us without permission for a month or so now) had a friend over. Fine. They were apparently already quite drunk, and had been smoking it up in the dining room (fine and not fine), and evidently were pretty rowdy at that point. I got home not long after and naught had changed, so Chris and I just spent some time on the front porch, chatting.
Until we decided to head into the front room and watch a movie. That's when things got far more interesting. Due to aforementioned company's high levels of drunkenness (and quite possibly low levels of giving a shit), they were being pretty loud and obnoxious. So much so that we could hear them easily in the front room. Low and behold, they were discussing how deeply their (our roommate's and her boyfriend's) hatred for us ran. They talked about how much "they'd" like to move out, but how they were locked into the lease, but on the plus side Jay was getting free rent and utilities at our expense. They talked about how much they'd like to ruin our lives and make us pay for being such losers. They talked about how to best "destroy us."
A little bit of back-story. When this roommate moved in last September, she was as sweet as could be. She hung out with us, she chatted with us daily, we all cooked together, it was great. Then she met this guy (if that isn't cliché I don't know what is). Despite being nearly 30, this guy looks and acts like a 16-year-old wicked-mad goth kid. Pretty much at all times. Never in my life have I seen such an amazingly clear example of one person mentally poisoning another. Since then she's become confined to her room with him at all times. She's ceased to talk to us, look at us, or engage us in any way.
Back to the story. As if this didn't upset us enough, they continued to plow forward with their discussion. The boyfriend was proudly bragging about how – through living there – he had been able and continued to do so many things to us that "we didn't even know", and that if she (our roommate) would only give him permission he would "let himself loose" and "rage against" us. He would "reign down world war III upon" us. He would "destroy" us. As I said … pissed-off 16-year-old goth kid. This is of course in addition to all the other apparently terrible and disgusting things he's already been doing to us without our knowledge, such as peeing in every sink in the house with surprising regularity and lord knows what else. Obviously I don't trust any of the food in the house anymore, and this morning I took a few of my more prized (and pricey) possessions to the office for safekeeping. That was something else: he was constantly bragging about how soon he was going to wreak havoc upon us by destroying some of the things we care about more than anything. No idea what that could be, but it definitely will be interesting to see what impression he has of what we truly care about. After we went to bed they migrated to the front porch and proceeded to get louder, drunker, more obnoxious and more destructive. They were screaming into the night, cheering, yelling, and smashing beer bottle after beer bottle on the sidewalk out front. Chris went out once to request they be quiet. They didn't say anything for a few seconds, then the friend said "yeah, sure, no problem." Chris thanked them and went back to bed. As he was leaving he heard the friend quietly (and most likely in response to a glare from the boyfriend) say "what? At least I didn't kill him." They got louder, and I slept with my jacket against my door, just so I could know in the morning if anybody had entered my room. No one did. Even so, I only got an hour or so of sleep throughout the night.
I don't know what to do. I don't think there really is any answer that's going to work without giving us more problems before making it better. I'm perfectly happy letting her out of the lease and going to the expense of finding somebody else to sublet, but I honestly can't see either of them going willingly. As much as they obviously loathe us, to move out would take away his free ride and put them into a place not nearly as nice and most likely more expensive (we get a very good deal on our place). If they could even find a place, which undoubtedly would take some time. Moreover, that's a solution-oriented answer. I don't see them as being solution-oriented people. I see them as needing something to focus their hatred on, and I see them as, more than anything else, wanting to cause as much trouble and chaos as possible. They used the term "anarchy" far more than necessary.
I have no idea what to expect upon returning home. Honestly, I suspect that very little if anything will be out of order … if for no reason other than the fact that they were unbelievably drunk last night, and probably too hung-over today even to move, much less "reign down world war III upon" us. But hey, I've been surprised before. They certainly drink enough to have built up a healthy (or not) tolerance, and may just bypass the hangovers in lieu of "complete and utter anarchy." Told you they used it a lot.
And now I'm at work, completely exhausted and having gotten here 40 minutes early this morning just to get out of the house. I would be far less concerned about all of this if it were not for the fact that I long have suspected this guy to be very near the edge psychologically. In other words, I'm concerned there may be a possibility that he easily could become completely irrational and/or violent with little to no provocation. Of course, I could be wrong. He very likely could be a big, mean talker and little more. But how do I find out? Wait until he becomes violent with someone in the house – which may well never happen – all the while knowing he's probably peeing in all our food and doing god knows what else to us without our knowledge? I really would rather not.
Of course, it hasn't killed me yet …
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
back to the roots
That's it. It's over. It's all over. The great experiment of our (my) time has reached its completion. It's been a long, annoying road, but worth it I feel. Worth it to find out where I truly need to lie in my life. The days of Sexual Dave are at an end.
That's right, you heard me! I officially am reverting to the man (so to speak) I was back in the good ol' days. Oh yeah, that's right: Asexual Dave is back kiddos! Sexual Dave was nothing more than a misguided attempt to broaden my horizons. And now it has become a failed attempt. I am taking myself off the market and placing myself back outside the traditional definitions of gender.
So all of you throngs of thonged thetans who are desperately wanting me – you can just suck it! (Not in the sexual way.) In fact, to further dissuade you from my door, take this:
That's right, you heard me! I officially am reverting to the man (so to speak) I was back in the good ol' days. Oh yeah, that's right: Asexual Dave is back kiddos! Sexual Dave was nothing more than a misguided attempt to broaden my horizons. And now it has become a failed attempt. I am taking myself off the market and placing myself back outside the traditional definitions of gender.
So all of you throngs of thonged thetans who are desperately wanting me – you can just suck it! (Not in the sexual way.) In fact, to further dissuade you from my door, take this:
Friday, December 1, 2006
cold, snowy afternoon
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.
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.
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.
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