May 30, 2006 6:10 am - Dallas/Ft. Worth International Airport
Holy...sweet...jesus...what a night. I was supposed to fly from Dallas/Ft. Worth (DFW) last night into O'Hare and arrive at 11:00 pm. At the moment it's just after 6 in the morning, and I fly out of O'Hare at 2pm bound for London. It's been a long 9 hours.
My flight was delayed late, and finally canceled. We were given hotel vouchers to receive a "Distressed Passenger Rate" of $49.00 (plus tax) from a nearby hotel. To American Airlines' credit, it wasn't their fault; the weather in Chicago turned. Even so, it still meant that the absolute soonest I could get home was 10:50 am this morning: too late for me to get my butt home, repack, and get back to O'Hare in time to check in. Needless to say, my heart sank rather quickly.
And so I was on the phone late into the night trying to get everything sorted out. It remained firmly unsorted. I decided not to stay in the hotel (thus foregoing a bed), and opted instead to curl up in a corner at DFW so I could get up early enough to be the first on standby for the 6:15 am flight. Over the course of my life I've noticed that when circumstances are at their toughest, people never fail to come through. As always, this time was no exception.
I was curled up last night in a big, bright, cold, empty airport, sporting sunglasses and an mp3 player plugged into my head. With nothing to use as a pillow, I was determined to re-create the ancient art used by Tibetan monks high in the mountains of hard, flat-surfaced sleeping. It was a poor, poor re-creation. As I was trying to drift off I heard quite the obnoxious sound approaching. I could see from the reflection in the window I was against that it was two guys pushing a big plastic dumpsteron wheels collecting the trash. No surprise; it was the middle of the night. What WAS a surprise though was as soon as one saw me lying there, he tapped the other, pointed me out, and motioned for him to be quiet. TOTALLY unexpected, and done purely out of kindness and respect. It's always nice to know you're not benig completely ignored.
I awoke around 1:30 am, shivering. Being in Texas, I can only assume they crank the ac mercilessly. I stumbled, half asleep, to the other side of the hallway and collapsed into a corner there, hoping that being away from the window would help. It didn't, but as I lay there I was aware of a woman driving a floor waxer gliding by. A minute or two later she returned, but this time stopped right next to me. I looked up to see her offering me a red cotton airline blanket she filched from a locker somewhere! I drifted back off to sleep, warm and beaming.
Thursday, June 8, 2006
Monday, May 29, 2006
Memorial Day
Memorial Day weekend, 2006. The second installment of a three-part series including action, adventure, sorrow, drama, shock, horror (almost exclusively Japanese), and always a surprise ending. And beginning. Usually a surprise middle too. Featuring me. To be honest, it'd have to have a pretty damn good trailer to get me watching. But that's me.
Last weekend I visited Florida for my sister's graduation. It really was a great time; I got to see my whole family. I cannot remember the last time we were all together. The sun was amazing, the sand nearly whiter than I was, and everyone was in great spirits! Granted I still managed to find reasons to segregate myself and get emotional over silly things, but I've come to see a certain amount of that as unavoidable in my life. aka I'm used to it.
And now I'm in Albuquerque, New Mexico! I'll have you know that I spent a great deal of time learning how to spell this damn city's name, and I'm a bit proud of myself! This weekend (yesterday) was Mark Scully and KT LaBadie's wedding! I've known Mark since high school, and I've been overjoyed to find KT an absolutely delightful person. This weekend was practically a high school reunion for me...which is always a bit sketchy. While I am the same person I was in high school, you wouldn't know it, and it's always strange (and a little frightening) to be back with the same old group from so long ago. I disappeared a few times during some of the parties (which took place every single night, much to my delight!), and grew melancholy once or twice, but overall it was a spectacular weekend. One of the best I've had in quite some time in fact! It truly was wonderful seeing so many old friends, and the new friends I've found have me quite intrigued. I dig intrigue. The future always keeps me guessing. The damn tease.
Last weekend I visited Florida for my sister's graduation. It really was a great time; I got to see my whole family. I cannot remember the last time we were all together. The sun was amazing, the sand nearly whiter than I was, and everyone was in great spirits! Granted I still managed to find reasons to segregate myself and get emotional over silly things, but I've come to see a certain amount of that as unavoidable in my life. aka I'm used to it.
And now I'm in Albuquerque, New Mexico! I'll have you know that I spent a great deal of time learning how to spell this damn city's name, and I'm a bit proud of myself! This weekend (yesterday) was Mark Scully and KT LaBadie's wedding! I've known Mark since high school, and I've been overjoyed to find KT an absolutely delightful person. This weekend was practically a high school reunion for me...which is always a bit sketchy. While I am the same person I was in high school, you wouldn't know it, and it's always strange (and a little frightening) to be back with the same old group from so long ago. I disappeared a few times during some of the parties (which took place every single night, much to my delight!), and grew melancholy once or twice, but overall it was a spectacular weekend. One of the best I've had in quite some time in fact! It truly was wonderful seeing so many old friends, and the new friends I've found have me quite intrigued. I dig intrigue. The future always keeps me guessing. The damn tease.
Friday, March 3, 2006
Thursday, February 16, 2006
let's all help each other out
networking
function: verb
transitive senses
'net-"w&rk·ing
function: verb
transitive senses
'net-"w&rk·ing
- connecting with people of like interests for the purpose of uncovering opportunities, identifying landmines and learning of best practices.
- the ability to tie more than one component together through protocols (e.g. TCP/IP)
- granting unwarranted favors and offering congeniality in excess to those individuals one concludes to be better than everyone else based on what one can acquire from the individual in question
synonyms: ass kissing, sucking up, kiss assing, brownnosing, schmoozing, working the crowd, sucking at life, “teachers pet”ing
I fucking hate networking! Call it whatever the hell you want – sucking up, kissing ass, and anything else related to said execrations, I hate it! Holy sweet jesus turned black muslim. You know why my organization is nonpartisan? It's nonpartisan so that it can witness local affairs objectively and act, without bias, on any corruption it happens to uncover. Of course, that was when it was founded…over a hundred years ago. TODAY it's nonpartisan so that it can suck fat, hairy politician ass from any and every party affiliation it can find that’s willing to offer it money and/or prestige and/or favors and/or power and/or free shit and/or a lollipop.Earlier today the president of our ragtag little group forwarded me a copy of an email he sent to one of our members. Because I’d rather not get my skinny ass fired, I’m changing the names of all individuals and companies. Our organization is now the “Urban Group of Des Moines.” Our president is now “Fred.” The organization of the guy to whom he’s writing is now “DHJ Construction.”
All he wrote to me was:
F.Y.I.
Thanks
Fred
This is an e-mail that he must have sent to some guy who must've asked him something about our Annual Dinner that's coming up. It's a big deal for us, costing $250 per person, $3,000 for a dinner sponsor (table of 10, 2 tickets to the honoree reception, and a listing on the program and our website), and $5,000 for a dinner host (preferred seating, table of 10, 5 tickets to the honoree reception, event signage, and a listing on the program and our website with their logo). It went a little something like this:
1. Thank you so much for your continued support of the Urban Group of Des Moines, Iowa’s premier public policy forum.
2. When DHJ Construction purchases a table at our Annual Dinner, the value of the tickets at that table are for DHJ employees only.
3. Any public servants in attendance are guests of the Urban Group of Des Moines.
4. The Urban Group of Des Moines merely sprinkles these public servants throughout the 500-person ballroom as a "thank you" for their contributions to the Urban Group of Des Moines.
5. No value of the tickets(s) is attributable to DHJ Construction as these public servants are guests of the Urban Group of Des Moines, the sponsor of the event.
Thank you.
Fuck I wish I was bulimic so I could make myself ralph right now. Maybe I'll just go sit on a fork.
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
sex, violence, children, & shit
I love the unpredictability of the weather here! All of last week was extraordinary – not at all akin to the typical Chicago winter – but one day in particular stands out above the rest; partly because of the weather, though I have to admit largely due to a walk I took.
It was mid-afternoon, somewhere around 3:30 or so, and it was just perfect. I was perfectly comfortable in my light jacket due to the temperature sitting in the low 60’s, and everybody was out to enjoy it with me! There were the scores of Chicago businessmen and women tending to their matters as usual, save for the smiles sported on their faces as naturally as the headsets sported on their ears; couples, hand-in-hand, strolling leisurely in and out of the fast-paced stream of bodies; families on outings with their kids for no reasons other than each others’ company in the sun; men, women and children walking every kind of pet imaginable, from cats to dogs, lizards and fish; the warm sun just glinting off the western wing of flight 172 as it soared into the upper portion of the stately Aon Center; students sitting in every nook and cranny, briefly exposing their souls in the pages of their journals as only a written language can allow. I felt silly (and a little like a corny 16 year-old poet!) thinking it, but I couldn’t help but feel like I was connected to every other living thing in sight!
As is often the case with connections though, it had to end at some point. And boy did it end. It really ended. Not only did it end, it was ruined! Like a rock and roll classic covered by Barbara Streisand, it was destroyed! I was passing the Chicago Cultural Center. Ten yards ahead of me there was a 26, nearly 27 year-old girl named Sarah on her way to a volunteer position she’d held with a soup kitchen since her 16th birthday, nearly eleven years ago. She was wearing a lovely white sundress she had bought just two days earlier during a sale at Marshall Field’s. We didn’t know each other. As she was dropping some change into a homeless kid’s empty carnation baby food tin, a gust of wind came in suddenly from the lake, catching her dress as if it was nothing at all, exposing her thong! I was caught so unprepared that I actually saw one entire bare cheek before quickly closing my eyes out of shame for her. I can only imagine what must have happened to those not blessed by God with above average ocular reflexes like mine.
While I managed to blind myself temporarily before any serious damage was done, my hands, unfortunately, happened to be full at the time, preventing me from blocking out her playful exclamation of “shit!” My ears were burned; my mind: corrupted. My soul ached for all the kids who now would grow up perverted, bestial sex maniacs, raping children and loving cats until consumed by the flames of hell…all due to the psychological scarring inflicted upon them at the corner of Randolph and Michigan. I think I even saw a young husband and new father of paternal twins cross himself and utter a quick prayer for them as he plummeted at 132 mph from the 67th floor of the roaring Aon Center, the blue/orange flame arcing behind him a poignant reminder of the day Satan was cast out of paradise into the foul black pits of depravity. I sighed, shook my head, and continued my walk.
GOD that killed me to write! I won’t even tell you how many times I had to burn myself just to keep from cutting myself out of guilt over what was spewing out of this keyboard. It was not, however, without a point. Or an agenda, for all you people (out of the none who actually read this) who now hate me and want to make it sound eviler. The point (or agenda) is to bring to light the absurd priorities we’ve got in this country…along with the fact that we all seem to be supporting them without even thinking first! I was sitting in a coffee shop for my initial brainstorming about this, and I caught myself acting on these priorities without even realizing it. I had been scribbling ideas for the title along the top of the page until I found the one that now rests obscenely at the top of this abomination. I was eating a cup of yogurt, and purposely had placed the folded foil top over the word ‘sex,’ leaving ‘children & shit’ exposed. I would rather have had a cute girl walk by and spy the latter over the former, leaving her wondering what in gods name I could be writing about that warranted a title that included children and shit instead of curious what I was writing about sex.
I’m ashamed to be part of a culture that advocates conditioning kids not only to accept, but to enjoy the most heinous, hate-filled, hostile, ummmmmmm…horrific…horrendous…offenses against others, while simultaneously insuring their immediate shock and absolute outrage when presented with another’s strong opinion or even partially-nude body. What the fuck? How did we come to consider the beauty of our natural form and the freaking awesome power of language raw filth while ensuring that no one bats an eye in the presence of intentional violence?
The indications are all over the fucking place. As much as I hate to bring up such a clichéd example, take a look at what we can and do watch on tv these days. On any given day we’re shown dramatic assassinations, graphic hate crimes, killings, beatings, rude behavior, George W. Bush (think that word combo will get me red-flagged somewhere?), torture, blood, Renee Zellweger (see: torture), and pretty much every other way, clever and otherwise, to inflict pain on another person. I’m considering learning a martial art just to fend off people who want my seat on the bus in the future.
Now DON’T go and get me wrong! As terrible as all that shit is, I’m totally, 100% for it. That’s the great thing about this country: I don’t have to agree with everything that’s available! Do you have any idea how much time it would take for me to hear, consider, and pass judgment on every damned idea out there before letting them out? I’ve got my own shit to do. What’s upsetting me becomes clearer when you take a look at what we can’t and don’t watch: nipples. Everybody likes nipples.
Ok, so my point (or agenda) runs a touch deeper than that. Somehow we all have managed to decide that even a partially-exposed person is just plain wrong. Don’t even try to endorse the fully-exposed ones, you’ll be burned at the stake! What is so damn terrible about a kid seeing a naked person??** Just as with anything else, a person exposed to something repeatedly over the course of their life will cease to be surprised and/or amazed and/or shocked and/or corrupted by it. Lest we forget, it wasn’t all that long ago when merely the sight of a woman in an office, WORKING, was enough to incite outrage and indignation. Needless to say, we’re kinda used to it these days, and most of time don’t even bother looking twice (unless she’s hot).
Believe it or not, the human body is no exception. If kids grew up in an atmosphere that didn’t condemn it, seeing a bare boob on tv would upset/pervert them no more than seeing an bare ankle (which, incidentally, used to be forbidden territory). HOWEVER, outlawing something, making a huge fuss over shielding kids, especially teenagers, from something, is quite possibly the best known method of cultivating obsession in the person being shielded. Go tell a teenager he can’t go somewhere. You now know exactly where to look should he ever run away. Or tell a girl she can’t have a drink. She’ll be plastered by dusk. Again, I’m not suggesting we encourage all these things; that also falls under making a fuss. JUST RELAX! You want an example? Check out Europe, that satanic continent that serves alcohol to anyone who can reach the bar. Hardly any drunk driving. Hardly any binge drinking. Hardly any cases of alcohol poisoning. They don’t encourage OR discourage taking a drink, and as a result, the kids shrug it off!
Kung Fu masters in Northern China have an ancient training technique: they punch gravel. Or sand. Depending on their level of expertise. More specifically, they punch, repeatedly, into a drum filled with sand or small rocks every…fucking…day. What this accomplishes is a buildup of calluses across their knuckles enabling them to punch directly through my shin without any pain at all. They can punch solid brick walls without flinching, decimate tree limbs without getting any of those little splinters, and shatter bones as if they were cheetos (the puff kind, not the originals…those fuckers got damned hard when they got stale). Those guys and their long beards rock.
While I do have a thing for Asians, there’s another more important reason I bring that up. Repeated exposure lessens meaning. There. That’s it. That’s my point (or agenda). If I see a man shot once a day, every day, for 17 years, I’m not gonna care anymore. I’ll be too used to it for it to matter. I DON’T WANT THAT!! I want to care! When I see a village bombed, I want to hurt! I want to be shocked and frightened and feel panicky and sick to my stomach!
I want to have to leave the room so I can cry without embarrassing myself.
As it is, I’ve seen so much violence in my life that if I want to cry, I’ve got to psych myself into it. The images help, but they certainly won’t do it on their own anymore. I’m not trying to pick only on tv, but being the most widespread and entrenched form of media in our culture it has more opportunity than most to communicate.
That being said, I do have a reason, aside from shock, for picking the example I used in the opening. A&E is premiering a made for A&E movie called, surprise surprise, Flight 93. The tagline? “September 11, 2001: Four terrorists wanted to turn Flight 93 into a weapon. Forty brave passengers and crew stopped it from reaching its target.” NOT ONLY is it not enough that it happened and all those people were killed, now they’ve decided to show it to us again and again and again and again until we view it as nothing more than FUCKING ENTERTAINMENT! Way to profit off of their memory, you fucktards. You wanna see what I’m talking about? Take a look...they’ve got links to the schedule, the trailer, and their online store. If they had any decency, or even common sense, they’d donate every penny they brought in from retail and ad sales to something. Anything. No, fuck that. If they had any decency they never would have considered this asinine project. But that’s another bitch session altogether.
The other thing I brought up earlier was language. What is everybody’s problem with language used to emphasize what a person feels is important? Fuck! That’s what makes language so damned powerful! To paraphrase Penn & Teller: as soon as you legislate a word should not be said, you lock in that word’s value. Being symbols, words are pointless without meaning, and to announce to everyone that they should not be used under any circumstances succeeds only in giving them more meaning than ever. Tell people they shouldn’t say something, they’ll add it to a protest to get your attention. And it’ll work. To suggest that I should say shoot instead of shit, dang instead of damn, fudge instead of fuck, or shit instead of Bush, isn’t suggesting that I talk about more pleasant things, but that I talk about the same offensive thoughts I’m having in a way that doesn’t offend anyone. What’s wrong with getting offended? When you’re offended you act! What’s wrong with acting? Besides Renee Zellweger? Dickheads like the FCC don’t ask that we be more accepting and tolerant of each other, only that we politely continue to speak to each other in hate. It’s not the message that matters, just the wrapping paper.
For the first time in my life, I’m embarrassed to be from my country. I love America. I love Americans. I love everything that America stands for. I just don’t understand why we’re acting in direct opposition to that stance.
**For all of the officials from the NSA, the FBI, and the National Coalition for the Protection of Children and Families who are reading this to determine whether or not I’m a threat, I am not suggesting that we sit our kids down in front of your home computers and show them the downloaded videos from your private collection, regardless of how much you want me to be, so don’t put words in my mouth.
It was mid-afternoon, somewhere around 3:30 or so, and it was just perfect. I was perfectly comfortable in my light jacket due to the temperature sitting in the low 60’s, and everybody was out to enjoy it with me! There were the scores of Chicago businessmen and women tending to their matters as usual, save for the smiles sported on their faces as naturally as the headsets sported on their ears; couples, hand-in-hand, strolling leisurely in and out of the fast-paced stream of bodies; families on outings with their kids for no reasons other than each others’ company in the sun; men, women and children walking every kind of pet imaginable, from cats to dogs, lizards and fish; the warm sun just glinting off the western wing of flight 172 as it soared into the upper portion of the stately Aon Center; students sitting in every nook and cranny, briefly exposing their souls in the pages of their journals as only a written language can allow. I felt silly (and a little like a corny 16 year-old poet!) thinking it, but I couldn’t help but feel like I was connected to every other living thing in sight!
As is often the case with connections though, it had to end at some point. And boy did it end. It really ended. Not only did it end, it was ruined! Like a rock and roll classic covered by Barbara Streisand, it was destroyed! I was passing the Chicago Cultural Center. Ten yards ahead of me there was a 26, nearly 27 year-old girl named Sarah on her way to a volunteer position she’d held with a soup kitchen since her 16th birthday, nearly eleven years ago. She was wearing a lovely white sundress she had bought just two days earlier during a sale at Marshall Field’s. We didn’t know each other. As she was dropping some change into a homeless kid’s empty carnation baby food tin, a gust of wind came in suddenly from the lake, catching her dress as if it was nothing at all, exposing her thong! I was caught so unprepared that I actually saw one entire bare cheek before quickly closing my eyes out of shame for her. I can only imagine what must have happened to those not blessed by God with above average ocular reflexes like mine.
While I managed to blind myself temporarily before any serious damage was done, my hands, unfortunately, happened to be full at the time, preventing me from blocking out her playful exclamation of “shit!” My ears were burned; my mind: corrupted. My soul ached for all the kids who now would grow up perverted, bestial sex maniacs, raping children and loving cats until consumed by the flames of hell…all due to the psychological scarring inflicted upon them at the corner of Randolph and Michigan. I think I even saw a young husband and new father of paternal twins cross himself and utter a quick prayer for them as he plummeted at 132 mph from the 67th floor of the roaring Aon Center, the blue/orange flame arcing behind him a poignant reminder of the day Satan was cast out of paradise into the foul black pits of depravity. I sighed, shook my head, and continued my walk.
GOD that killed me to write! I won’t even tell you how many times I had to burn myself just to keep from cutting myself out of guilt over what was spewing out of this keyboard. It was not, however, without a point. Or an agenda, for all you people (out of the none who actually read this) who now hate me and want to make it sound eviler. The point (or agenda) is to bring to light the absurd priorities we’ve got in this country…along with the fact that we all seem to be supporting them without even thinking first! I was sitting in a coffee shop for my initial brainstorming about this, and I caught myself acting on these priorities without even realizing it. I had been scribbling ideas for the title along the top of the page until I found the one that now rests obscenely at the top of this abomination. I was eating a cup of yogurt, and purposely had placed the folded foil top over the word ‘sex,’ leaving ‘children & shit’ exposed. I would rather have had a cute girl walk by and spy the latter over the former, leaving her wondering what in gods name I could be writing about that warranted a title that included children and shit instead of curious what I was writing about sex.
I’m ashamed to be part of a culture that advocates conditioning kids not only to accept, but to enjoy the most heinous, hate-filled, hostile, ummmmmmm…horrific…horrendous…offenses against others, while simultaneously insuring their immediate shock and absolute outrage when presented with another’s strong opinion or even partially-nude body. What the fuck? How did we come to consider the beauty of our natural form and the freaking awesome power of language raw filth while ensuring that no one bats an eye in the presence of intentional violence?
The indications are all over the fucking place. As much as I hate to bring up such a clichéd example, take a look at what we can and do watch on tv these days. On any given day we’re shown dramatic assassinations, graphic hate crimes, killings, beatings, rude behavior, George W. Bush (think that word combo will get me red-flagged somewhere?), torture, blood, Renee Zellweger (see: torture), and pretty much every other way, clever and otherwise, to inflict pain on another person. I’m considering learning a martial art just to fend off people who want my seat on the bus in the future.
Now DON’T go and get me wrong! As terrible as all that shit is, I’m totally, 100% for it. That’s the great thing about this country: I don’t have to agree with everything that’s available! Do you have any idea how much time it would take for me to hear, consider, and pass judgment on every damned idea out there before letting them out? I’ve got my own shit to do. What’s upsetting me becomes clearer when you take a look at what we can’t and don’t watch: nipples. Everybody likes nipples.
Ok, so my point (or agenda) runs a touch deeper than that. Somehow we all have managed to decide that even a partially-exposed person is just plain wrong. Don’t even try to endorse the fully-exposed ones, you’ll be burned at the stake! What is so damn terrible about a kid seeing a naked person??** Just as with anything else, a person exposed to something repeatedly over the course of their life will cease to be surprised and/or amazed and/or shocked and/or corrupted by it. Lest we forget, it wasn’t all that long ago when merely the sight of a woman in an office, WORKING, was enough to incite outrage and indignation. Needless to say, we’re kinda used to it these days, and most of time don’t even bother looking twice (unless she’s hot).
Believe it or not, the human body is no exception. If kids grew up in an atmosphere that didn’t condemn it, seeing a bare boob on tv would upset/pervert them no more than seeing an bare ankle (which, incidentally, used to be forbidden territory). HOWEVER, outlawing something, making a huge fuss over shielding kids, especially teenagers, from something, is quite possibly the best known method of cultivating obsession in the person being shielded. Go tell a teenager he can’t go somewhere. You now know exactly where to look should he ever run away. Or tell a girl she can’t have a drink. She’ll be plastered by dusk. Again, I’m not suggesting we encourage all these things; that also falls under making a fuss. JUST RELAX! You want an example? Check out Europe, that satanic continent that serves alcohol to anyone who can reach the bar. Hardly any drunk driving. Hardly any binge drinking. Hardly any cases of alcohol poisoning. They don’t encourage OR discourage taking a drink, and as a result, the kids shrug it off!
Kung Fu masters in Northern China have an ancient training technique: they punch gravel. Or sand. Depending on their level of expertise. More specifically, they punch, repeatedly, into a drum filled with sand or small rocks every…fucking…day. What this accomplishes is a buildup of calluses across their knuckles enabling them to punch directly through my shin without any pain at all. They can punch solid brick walls without flinching, decimate tree limbs without getting any of those little splinters, and shatter bones as if they were cheetos (the puff kind, not the originals…those fuckers got damned hard when they got stale). Those guys and their long beards rock.
While I do have a thing for Asians, there’s another more important reason I bring that up. Repeated exposure lessens meaning. There. That’s it. That’s my point (or agenda). If I see a man shot once a day, every day, for 17 years, I’m not gonna care anymore. I’ll be too used to it for it to matter. I DON’T WANT THAT!! I want to care! When I see a village bombed, I want to hurt! I want to be shocked and frightened and feel panicky and sick to my stomach!
I want to have to leave the room so I can cry without embarrassing myself.
As it is, I’ve seen so much violence in my life that if I want to cry, I’ve got to psych myself into it. The images help, but they certainly won’t do it on their own anymore. I’m not trying to pick only on tv, but being the most widespread and entrenched form of media in our culture it has more opportunity than most to communicate.
That being said, I do have a reason, aside from shock, for picking the example I used in the opening. A&E is premiering a made for A&E movie called, surprise surprise, Flight 93. The tagline? “September 11, 2001: Four terrorists wanted to turn Flight 93 into a weapon. Forty brave passengers and crew stopped it from reaching its target.” NOT ONLY is it not enough that it happened and all those people were killed, now they’ve decided to show it to us again and again and again and again until we view it as nothing more than FUCKING ENTERTAINMENT! Way to profit off of their memory, you fucktards. You wanna see what I’m talking about? Take a look...they’ve got links to the schedule, the trailer, and their online store. If they had any decency, or even common sense, they’d donate every penny they brought in from retail and ad sales to something. Anything. No, fuck that. If they had any decency they never would have considered this asinine project. But that’s another bitch session altogether.
The other thing I brought up earlier was language. What is everybody’s problem with language used to emphasize what a person feels is important? Fuck! That’s what makes language so damned powerful! To paraphrase Penn & Teller: as soon as you legislate a word should not be said, you lock in that word’s value. Being symbols, words are pointless without meaning, and to announce to everyone that they should not be used under any circumstances succeeds only in giving them more meaning than ever. Tell people they shouldn’t say something, they’ll add it to a protest to get your attention. And it’ll work. To suggest that I should say shoot instead of shit, dang instead of damn, fudge instead of fuck, or shit instead of Bush, isn’t suggesting that I talk about more pleasant things, but that I talk about the same offensive thoughts I’m having in a way that doesn’t offend anyone. What’s wrong with getting offended? When you’re offended you act! What’s wrong with acting? Besides Renee Zellweger? Dickheads like the FCC don’t ask that we be more accepting and tolerant of each other, only that we politely continue to speak to each other in hate. It’s not the message that matters, just the wrapping paper.
For the first time in my life, I’m embarrassed to be from my country. I love America. I love Americans. I love everything that America stands for. I just don’t understand why we’re acting in direct opposition to that stance.
**For all of the officials from the NSA, the FBI, and the National Coalition for the Protection of Children and Families who are reading this to determine whether or not I’m a threat, I am not suggesting that we sit our kids down in front of your home computers and show them the downloaded videos from your private collection, regardless of how much you want me to be, so don’t put words in my mouth.
Thursday, January 5, 2006
greece...journalized
The following are excerpts taken from my journal during the Ambassador trip to Greece. This is not my entire journal. There are a number of bits and pieces that I've purposely left out for your comfort. Mainly just boring things such as observations and gripes concerning, oh, the weather, poverty in Africa, girls, and other similar clusterfucks.
Enjoy!
Enjoy!
discothequing the night away
December 28, 2005
We're in Delphi tonight! We spent last night in Athens after arriving in the afternoon, and today we explored the Sactuary of Apollo and the Oracle of Delphi. The ambassadors are incredible. They're unlike any high schoolers I've ever known. They notice everything and constantly make the most profound observations, often without even realizing it.
But now to cut this short. Time to shower, shave and get ready for dinner and dancing at the discotheque!
room with a view
December 29, 2005
What a fantastic morning! I woke up around 6:00 am and stepped out onto the balcony, and amidst the stars I could see the villages surrounding the Bay of Corinth. Looming over them I could just see the snowcapped mountains, finally visible now that the clouds and rain had cleared. It was chilly, but I was perfectly comfortable even without my shirt. And then it happened: a rooster crowed. It was all so perfect it was bordering on absurd! Nik and Adam woke up cheerful without the wakeup call (which we never got!), and seemed to have slept just as well as I.
Breakfast was a buffet of breads, jams, coffee, juice, tea, hot cocoa, and a massive basket of hardboiled eggs; just what I needed! It helped that we dined just inside a marble terrace overlooking the aforementioned view, only from a higher vantage point.
We left Delphi soon after, passed through miles and miles of olive trees (which we saw them harvesting, an event that takes place once every two years!), and now we're driving along the winding rode that follows the Bay of Corinth to the bridge that leads to the Peloponnese. In about three hours we will be in Olympia, where we will spend the balance of the day and sleep tonight.
Foreign travel should be mandatory for teenagers.
fun and games before christ
December 29, 2005
I feel overwhelmed. We've just explored the ruins of the ancient, original Olympic games. They were larger than I can imagine, and built in a time so long ago that it's beyond my comprehension. I want to know when the first columns on the Temple of Zeus collapsed. Had it been abandoned already, or were there still those who worshipped him nearby to witness it? Were they shocked to see something so powerful and all mighty descend into ruin? Were they sad? Were they scared? Were they at all? Had everybody already given up on Zeus and the rest? How could they have left such a magnificant place behind them? What happened?
I feel overwhelmed. We've just explored the ruins of the ancient, original Olympic games. They were larger than I can imagine, and built in a time so long ago that it's beyond my comprehension. I want to know when the first columns on the Temple of Zeus collapsed. Had it been abandoned already, or were there still those who worshipped him nearby to witness it? Were they shocked to see something so powerful and all mighty descend into ruin? Were they sad? Were they scared? Were they at all? Had everybody already given up on Zeus and the rest? How could they have left such a magnificant place behind them? What happened?
in touch in olympia
December 30, 2005
Yesterday afternoon was beyond anything I ever could've imagined. I went for a long run: down the hill on which we were staying, from one end of Olympia to the other, until I found myself on a footpath outside of town. As the forest around me got denser and more like a jungle, the path slowly vanished until it was nothing more than a soggy, muddy creekbed...nearly unpassable. Instead of running at a normal stride, I was running and leaping between the few small semi-dry spots left. All signs of civilization disappreared; there were no sounds, no people. A little further up, I came onto a well-travelled path alongside the main river in Olympia, the name of which I do not recall, though I remember it being filled with a light-colored mud and fast-moving. I began imagining how many people, athletes, had run in this area over the last 3,000 years. It was at the point that I saw what I was running alongside: on my right, not ten feet away, underneath vines and covered in thick moss was an enormous, ancient wall. Made of giant stone blocks, it was set back into the wall of the valley, holding the earth back. There were no ropes, no fences, no signs telling me not to touch...I don't know why I didn't. I imagined it, but didn't even consider actually doing it. I wish I knew why.
Finally the wall faded away back into the slopes, and I continued along the path alone. But it wasn't long until I reached just the place I didn't expect to be: just outside of the grounds where the very first Olympics took place in 776 b.c., marked now only by the ruins of the magnificant buildings that once stood there. I likely was running in the many footsteps of the thousands of great athletes who had run in the Olympics so long ago. I wonder, did somebody my age pass by there after running for miles to get there? Was he excited by the sound of the crowds coming from the stadium? Was he scared?
After the long, steep run back, I found a grassy spot overlooking the town to do some push-ups and stretch. It was just dusk, and the lights were coming on below me. I spent nearly 20 minutes stretching. And when I was finished, to my surprise, I sat down and cried for another ten.
new year debacle
January 1, 2006
I'm smack in the middle of Monastiraki...a very Montmartre sort of place. Only Greek. It's quiet, not many people out on new years day.
Last night was crazy! We all did our own thing for new years, and the plan was to meet up afterwards in Syntagma Square and take cabs back to the Oscar Hotel, as the metro closed at 11:00 pm. What a mistake that was!! It took the group two hours of fighting with rude cab drivers in the cold to get home! It ended up being so absurdly terrible that I couldn't help but be light-hearted about it. Plus, quite a few of the ambs came into their own. Jason Miller was great. I could see how upset, insulted and tired he was, but without a word from any of us he stayed positive, put away his pride, and just kept working at getting us rides. We met at 12:30 am to go back; I got back in the last cab with Tim and Hank at 2:30 am sharp. I got to bed at 5:00 am after having some beers and chatting with them on their balcony.
What a way to bring in the new year!
by the sea, by the sea!
January 3, 2006
I just swan in the Mediterranean Sea!! God what a great feeling! Nothing can adequately express how incredible my body feels right now...I feel in the best shape of my life!
We're on a small cruise ship, about ready to leave our last stop of the day: Aegina. We stopped at the island of Hydra first, the Poros, and finally Aegina. All three have been breathtaking, though this one by far the most touristy. It's a good thing I'm going back home soon...one or two more days of this and I don't know if I'd ever be able to get back to normal!
I just swan in the Mediterranean Sea!! God what a great feeling! Nothing can adequately express how incredible my body feels right now...I feel in the best shape of my life!
We're on a small cruise ship, about ready to leave our last stop of the day: Aegina. We stopped at the island of Hydra first, the Poros, and finally Aegina. All three have been breathtaking, though this one by far the most touristy. It's a good thing I'm going back home soon...one or two more days of this and I don't know if I'd ever be able to get back to normal!
Thursday, December 8, 2005
remember that test?
well...i didn't fail it! i slipped by with a powerful d+.
but on the plus side we just got around a freaking foot of fabulous...snow... all over my city...!
...
but on the plus side we just got around a freaking foot of fabulous...snow... all over my city...!
...
Saturday, October 15, 2005
tonight!
so i'm bouncing off the walls tonight! i'm not sure why exactly, likely it's because it's friday, i'm exhausted from the week, and i've had some wine. whatever the reason, cheryl ( one of my hip roommates!) and i are trying to track people down to go out dancing somewhere with us. worst case scenario, we find no one and go by ourselves. hell, i'd probably even go by myself tonight, i seriously need to cut loose a bit.
ok, a lot. and i intend to! it's been a highly stressful week, with a few exams (including one in accounting that i'm absolutely sure i failed) and little sleep. talk about an ideal time to stay up late drinking, smoking and dancing! BOO yah!!
ok, a lot. and i intend to! it's been a highly stressful week, with a few exams (including one in accounting that i'm absolutely sure i failed) and little sleep. talk about an ideal time to stay up late drinking, smoking and dancing! BOO yah!!
Thursday, October 13, 2005
bedtime
i'm sleepy, and i'm pretty sure i just heard two gunshots outside. yay chicago!
damn, i've got a massive exam in accounting tomorrow that i do NOT want to take. partially because it's accounting, and accounting in psychotic, but mainly because i know nothing about the material being covered.
that being said, i suppose since it's twenty after midnight i'll go study now.
damn, i've got a massive exam in accounting tomorrow that i do NOT want to take. partially because it's accounting, and accounting in psychotic, but mainly because i know nothing about the material being covered.
that being said, i suppose since it's twenty after midnight i'll go study now.
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
and suddenly...
IT WAS THE WAFFLE THAT TIME FORGOT!!!!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
what is the point of running a business with little or no concern for your target customer? i'm asking rhetorically of course, the answer is money, but it's been shown many a time that that mentality and practice leads to nothing but ruin for finances and reputation both. not only that, but more often than not companies that are run with the utmost concern for their customers (and appropriate supporting processes, of course) have shown far greater success for a far greater period of time than those that are not. TAKE A HINT.
so here's the back story for this rant. my cafeteria. that's it.
no, it's not. first of all, aramark took control from chartwell's this semester. chartwell's was horrific. aramark is not much of an improvement. the food is pretty terrible, but that's to be expected in a college caf, as sad as that state of affairs is. what gets me riled and frisky (in a bad way) is the TOTAL lack of interest in their target customers...which also happen to be, you know, their ONLY customers. there are prices on nearly half of the items sold, the rest give absolutely no indication. that's aggrevated by the practice of never being told by the cashiers what they're charging you. the reason for that is, big surprise, the cashiers don't know the prices either, they just push the corresponding buttons on the register. we frequently are overcharged, and the only way to contend it is to watch the register while they're ringing the items up and ask what the prices are supposed to be if you think something rings up too high. of course, this pisses the cashiers off. oh yeah, and they never give receipts.
right now we're on spring break, so the caf has hours shorter than usual. on ordinary weekdays they close at 7:00pm, FAR earlier than college students with little or no other source of food downtown stop eating. they close at 5:30pm on weekends. right now, they close at 2:00 in the afternoon. on the plus side, they do have on the sign out front that the grill will be open until 3:00. still fairly useless for me as I generally work until 2:30 or 5:00, but that stills means I can get my omelet before going to work, right? wrong. regardless of what the sign says, the grill is only open for lunch. i found this out this morning, when i went in with the silly desire to acquire food. the first thing i noticed was there was no one there. no one. no cashier, no grill guy, nothing. so I stood in the middle of the damn place, set my bag down, and began looking around in confusion/disgust. mind you, this was in full view of the office window, behind which i could see three people, including the manager. not even a glance, though it was impossible for them not to see me. after a while a cashier sauntered out from the back, and informed me of the dire grill news. SO i opted for the only food there: the breakfast-like stuff under the heatlamps. i chose the 2 miniature waffles for $0.70 deal plus a few pieces of greasified bacon at $0.70/piece (no, no mistake was made...they really were selling a piece of bacon for the same price as two mini-waffles). i decided then to be a pain in the ass, and ask if it was possible to take some syrup with me (because I was on my way to work). i was pointed in the direction of the cups that I was allowed to use: the same that fast food restaurants use for in-house transport of condiments. yeah, those white, flimsy little paper cuppy thingies. when i asked for something with a lid, she politely informed me that "we ain't got ones with lids." so I stared at her for a few minutes, then pointed at the styrofoam cups and asked "what about those?" she said i'd have to pay extra for it. FOR A DAMN, SYPHILITIC, CRACK-WHORE STYROFOAM CUP!!!!! fortunately, i opted-in for the cup. without that syrup my waffles never would have softened enough to be cut with my plastic knife and my mere mortal strength.
i understand that it's a school cafeteria, and i know that margins are slim, profit or otherwise. even if nothing were to change in the products that we get, having a staff, especially a manager, that simply does not care is unacceptable.
the problem is one that's fueled my anger for many, many months: lack of competition. students have no choice but to eat in the cafeteria, therefore, no incentive to better the quality exists. i hate that. the same malady sickens the usps. while they do have competition (fedex, ups, etc.), being backed by the government insures two things: they can keep prices lower than everyone else, and they can hire complete jackasses that don't do their jobs and still thrive. and brazilians, of course.
i'm so mad right now, i think i need to go shoot a kitty with a pellet gun.
what is the point of running a business with little or no concern for your target customer? i'm asking rhetorically of course, the answer is money, but it's been shown many a time that that mentality and practice leads to nothing but ruin for finances and reputation both. not only that, but more often than not companies that are run with the utmost concern for their customers (and appropriate supporting processes, of course) have shown far greater success for a far greater period of time than those that are not. TAKE A HINT.
so here's the back story for this rant. my cafeteria. that's it.
no, it's not. first of all, aramark took control from chartwell's this semester. chartwell's was horrific. aramark is not much of an improvement. the food is pretty terrible, but that's to be expected in a college caf, as sad as that state of affairs is. what gets me riled and frisky (in a bad way) is the TOTAL lack of interest in their target customers...which also happen to be, you know, their ONLY customers. there are prices on nearly half of the items sold, the rest give absolutely no indication. that's aggrevated by the practice of never being told by the cashiers what they're charging you. the reason for that is, big surprise, the cashiers don't know the prices either, they just push the corresponding buttons on the register. we frequently are overcharged, and the only way to contend it is to watch the register while they're ringing the items up and ask what the prices are supposed to be if you think something rings up too high. of course, this pisses the cashiers off. oh yeah, and they never give receipts.
right now we're on spring break, so the caf has hours shorter than usual. on ordinary weekdays they close at 7:00pm, FAR earlier than college students with little or no other source of food downtown stop eating. they close at 5:30pm on weekends. right now, they close at 2:00 in the afternoon. on the plus side, they do have on the sign out front that the grill will be open until 3:00. still fairly useless for me as I generally work until 2:30 or 5:00, but that stills means I can get my omelet before going to work, right? wrong. regardless of what the sign says, the grill is only open for lunch. i found this out this morning, when i went in with the silly desire to acquire food. the first thing i noticed was there was no one there. no one. no cashier, no grill guy, nothing. so I stood in the middle of the damn place, set my bag down, and began looking around in confusion/disgust. mind you, this was in full view of the office window, behind which i could see three people, including the manager. not even a glance, though it was impossible for them not to see me. after a while a cashier sauntered out from the back, and informed me of the dire grill news. SO i opted for the only food there: the breakfast-like stuff under the heatlamps. i chose the 2 miniature waffles for $0.70 deal plus a few pieces of greasified bacon at $0.70/piece (no, no mistake was made...they really were selling a piece of bacon for the same price as two mini-waffles). i decided then to be a pain in the ass, and ask if it was possible to take some syrup with me (because I was on my way to work). i was pointed in the direction of the cups that I was allowed to use: the same that fast food restaurants use for in-house transport of condiments. yeah, those white, flimsy little paper cuppy thingies. when i asked for something with a lid, she politely informed me that "we ain't got ones with lids." so I stared at her for a few minutes, then pointed at the styrofoam cups and asked "what about those?" she said i'd have to pay extra for it. FOR A DAMN, SYPHILITIC, CRACK-WHORE STYROFOAM CUP!!!!! fortunately, i opted-in for the cup. without that syrup my waffles never would have softened enough to be cut with my plastic knife and my mere mortal strength.
i understand that it's a school cafeteria, and i know that margins are slim, profit or otherwise. even if nothing were to change in the products that we get, having a staff, especially a manager, that simply does not care is unacceptable.
the problem is one that's fueled my anger for many, many months: lack of competition. students have no choice but to eat in the cafeteria, therefore, no incentive to better the quality exists. i hate that. the same malady sickens the usps. while they do have competition (fedex, ups, etc.), being backed by the government insures two things: they can keep prices lower than everyone else, and they can hire complete jackasses that don't do their jobs and still thrive. and brazilians, of course.
i'm so mad right now, i think i need to go shoot a kitty with a pellet gun.
you know what would be cool and scary and kinda kinky?
so i was on the bus coming home from work yesterday, and these two cell phones rang back to back. after the two people receiving calls were chatting comfortably i thought (and this is paraphrased) "wouldn't it be funny if somebody came up with a way to send some sort of 'pulse' across a cell phone network that caused every phone on said network to ring simultaneously? what a neat joke that would make!" that made me smile.
then i began thinking about what might be possible if the aforementioned cheeky prankster actually figured out how to do something like that. phones are becoming so advanced that they're really more personal computers* than "telephones," as it were. (likewise, computers are moving in the same direction, becoming more sophisticated at using newfangled things like voip [voice-over IP], and eventually will likely just meet in the middle! neat huh?) with phones now operating with their own, cute little on-board systems, i'm amazed someone hasn't yet developed a virus to take advantage of the networks! think about it: someone designs a virus that calls a single cell phone number. the caller id could display anything the author wanted, even a random selection from a databank of displays (internal revenue service, publishers clearing house, chicago il, gary's world of dildos, fr3e_vIaGrA, etc, etc). just like with an email virus, as soon as the person picks up (or opens the email), the virus is installed onto the operating system...at which we're all done for.
once installed, it collects information from the hard drive (specifically the personal phone book), and connects back to the main data warehouse to upload everything. once more numbers are inserted into the warehouse, they're immediately called, starting the process all over again. suddenly everyone's phone would be ringing, nobody would know why, and people would begin to fear picking up their phone! men would long for calls from "the wife" with requests to pick up the dry cleaning and some extra tampons! it'd be communicative anarchy!
the virus even could be sophisticated enough to cross reference the call it's making with the name of the person it got the number from, and display that on the caller id! then, once it had your number in its grasp, it would keep calling, over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over again. maybe at random intervals just to keep you on your toes. our entire mobile communications network would be crippled! mass suicides would be inevitable.
seriously, it can't be that far off; we already can access the internet and email from our phones. maybe it could begin as that: an email virus that perpetuated itself normally...until that fateful day somebody accessed it through their cell phone, at which point..."it" would begin.
isn't technology neat?
*any and all references made to personal computers, pcs, computers, comps, laptops, desktops, processing equipment, etc., etc., should be taken to mean any system (pick one) other than those owned or affiliated with apple and/or macintosh, as i hate them.
**to all agents of the cia, fbi, and the department of homeland security (snicker), i am not a programmer. i do not know how to do any of this shit. i know how to put together a static web page. not a good one. a crappy one. should this happen, i an innocent, and had nothing to do with it.***
***except possibly giving the cheeky prankster the idea, but then that's giving myself way too much credit. i think you're the only ones reading this blog.
then i began thinking about what might be possible if the aforementioned cheeky prankster actually figured out how to do something like that. phones are becoming so advanced that they're really more personal computers* than "telephones," as it were. (likewise, computers are moving in the same direction, becoming more sophisticated at using newfangled things like voip [voice-over IP], and eventually will likely just meet in the middle! neat huh?) with phones now operating with their own, cute little on-board systems, i'm amazed someone hasn't yet developed a virus to take advantage of the networks! think about it: someone designs a virus that calls a single cell phone number. the caller id could display anything the author wanted, even a random selection from a databank of displays (internal revenue service, publishers clearing house, chicago il, gary's world of dildos, fr3e_vIaGrA, etc, etc). just like with an email virus, as soon as the person picks up (or opens the email), the virus is installed onto the operating system...at which we're all done for.
once installed, it collects information from the hard drive (specifically the personal phone book), and connects back to the main data warehouse to upload everything. once more numbers are inserted into the warehouse, they're immediately called, starting the process all over again. suddenly everyone's phone would be ringing, nobody would know why, and people would begin to fear picking up their phone! men would long for calls from "the wife" with requests to pick up the dry cleaning and some extra tampons! it'd be communicative anarchy!
the virus even could be sophisticated enough to cross reference the call it's making with the name of the person it got the number from, and display that on the caller id! then, once it had your number in its grasp, it would keep calling, over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over again. maybe at random intervals just to keep you on your toes. our entire mobile communications network would be crippled! mass suicides would be inevitable.
seriously, it can't be that far off; we already can access the internet and email from our phones. maybe it could begin as that: an email virus that perpetuated itself normally...until that fateful day somebody accessed it through their cell phone, at which point..."it" would begin.
isn't technology neat?
*any and all references made to personal computers, pcs, computers, comps, laptops, desktops, processing equipment, etc., etc., should be taken to mean any system (pick one) other than those owned or affiliated with apple and/or macintosh, as i hate them.
**to all agents of the cia, fbi, and the department of homeland security (snicker), i am not a programmer. i do not know how to do any of this shit. i know how to put together a static web page. not a good one. a crappy one. should this happen, i an innocent, and had nothing to do with it.***
***except possibly giving the cheeky prankster the idea, but then that's giving myself way too much credit. i think you're the only ones reading this blog.
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