A beast, an angel and a madman

Giving Hell: A Cubs Fan's Reaction to ESPN's "Catching Hell"

2011-09-28T11:26:00.002-05:00

Last night, ESPN played one of their 30for30 documentaries and this one was called Catching Hell. It was about the infamous Steve Bartman and how he changed the course of history and the 2003 Cubs and how they choked away a chance to beat the Yankees in the World Series.

If you get a chance, I recommend watching one of it’s 8 million replays. It made for compelling television but like most documentaries these days, it failed to tell the whole truth—or, the truth was told from a certain point of view to hammer home an underlying point.

“You’ll find that a great many of the truths we cling to depend greatly upon our own point of view.” –Obi Wan Kenobi, Jedi Master

The point of this documentary was to show the classic theme, man’s inhumanity toward man. It opened with the hatred Bill Buckner experienced after missing a grounder between his legs in 1986 that cemented a World Series collapse and continued the Red Sox futility to win it all. It focused, however, on the incident in 2003, with the Cubs in Game 6 of the best-of-seven series with the Marlins. A Cubs win that day meant that the Cubs, after not having achieved the World Series since 1945, were going back to the World Series once again.

The Cubs were winning that game 3-0. We had our best pitcher on the mound and he was dealing and practically unhittable. Wrigley Field was JAM PACKED and Cubs fans who just wanted to be there filled the streets around the stadium so they could say that they were there and a part of the celebration. The city was abuzz—but that doesn’t do the state of the city accurately. Unless you live here, unless you’re a Cubs fan, unless you experienced it, you can’t possibly fathom what it felt like.

Just 5 outs away from a trip to the World Series, a foul ball was hit down the third base line. Moises Alou leaped to make a catch that replays show he almost certainly would have made. A fan named Steve Bartman (and many other fans in the area) reached out to catch the ball as a souvenir. Bartman’s hands were the ones that hit the ball though. He deflected it away from Alou and instead of having 2 outs in the inning the Marlins had new life.

Again, we get to one of those moments where, unless you were here, unless you were a Cubs fan, unless you truly understand what that entails you can’t possibly understand the aftermath of that fateful event. Cubs fans were waiting—just WAITING—for whatever was going to happen to pull the carpet out from under our dream. Cubs fans are Charlie Brown and Bartman was Lucy pulling the football away at the last second ensuring that once again, we wound up on our asses, covered in mud, laughed at, foolish and beaten.

The documentary showed the reaction of 40,000 people inside Wrigley and another 20,000 outside the walls—all of whom felt like they were on their asses, covered in mud, laughed at, foolish and beaten. They lashed out. Their target was this poor dork named Steve Bartman. He didn’t do anything that most other fans would have done in his situation. He didn’t do anything that other fans right next to him weren’t trying to do. His hands were the ones that hit the ball though. He was the one who changed the trajectory of the ball. And so, he became the symbol for changing the trajectory of our team.

Moises Alou threw a tantrum. Instead of handling it like a veteran player, he handled it like a toddler, told it’s time to go to bed. His antics exacerbated the situation. If he’d walked back to his position and played ball, none of this would matter. He didn’t. He acted like a child. The city deflated in that instant. We had a knowing feeling in the pit of our stomachs. We were Charlie Brown, in that final millisecond when his foot has started forward and it’s too late to stop and he recognizes that the ball is being pulled away.

We met the girl of our dreams and some dorky looking guy in a green turtleneck stole her away the day of our wedding. It was heartbreak.

Now, there were significant events that happened after that. There was still one out in the inning and the next play was an easy grounder to shortstop Alex Gonzalez that should have been a routine double play. He booted it. He kicked it. He flubbed it. If he’d made that play, like he’d made dozens of times that season the Cubs would still have made it to the World Series. That play, more than anything was the defining moment when it all went south.

Manager Dusty Baker sat on his ass and did nothing. He had a rattled team and he didn’t do anything to calm them down. A manager in baseball has so few things he needs to do but this was a moment when he truly could have felt the pulse of the situation, realized that everyone needed to take a deep breath and gone out to the mound to settle everyone down. He failed. The Marlins went on to score 9 runs.

It was over. The burden of not having won, the pressure of winning not only for that team, but all the teams and players and fans that came before them proved to be too much. The 7th game was lost as well. The Cubs, only 5 outs away from the Promised Land, had failed once again.

The documentary makes the Cubs fans look cruel and unfairly casts them in a poor light. Their immediate treatment of Bartman certainly warrants that and there was no excuse for the treatment he got from surrounding fans, but it’s greatest shortcoming as a documentary was the failure to place it all in the proper context.

It used the idea of the curse as context. It made the reaction of the fans out to be a reaction based on a curse. Make no mistake about it, Cubs fans feel snake-bitten, unlucky, unfortunate and like fate is against them, but the idea of the Curse of the Billy Goat is just kind of a fun, cute way to encapsulate that feeling. The curse is something that only a very small portion of Cubs fandom takes seriously. More than anything else, it’s part of a tradition. It’s something to talk about and joke about as a means of explaining the unexplainable. It’s hearing a bump in the night and telling your wife that it must be a ghost as a means of breaking the tension and the immediate feeling of fear that might accompany it before realizing it was just the dog.

It made it out to seem as if all Cubs fans placed blame on Bartman. That was never true. The fans were angry that night and looking to lash out and they did. There is no excuse for that. Ask ANY Cubs fan to this day where it all went wrong and just like with the curse, they’ll make the joke that it was Bartman because he is the symbol. But any real Cubs fan will go on to lay the true blame at the feet of one of three people: Moises Alou, Alex Gonzalez or Dusty Baker and most likely, all of them. Bartman was the symbol. Alou, Gonzalez and Baker were the ones who collectively failed. There’s no real debate about that here in Chicago. It’s the reason Baker gets booed every trip he makes back to Wrigley Field managing other teams. It’s the reason you don’t see Alou or Gonzalez making any appearances in a city that LOVES it’s former greats.

The documentary makes it seem like Cubs fans ignored the true culprits and focused all attention and energy and hatred on Steve Bartman. That is false. The media focused all the attention and energy and hatred on Steve Bartman. And as sure as extremist political opinions on “news” channels incite angry people to false and idiotic points of view, so did the way the media grabbed this story, held on to it and kept after it help to draw out the loud and unintelligent who always need someone to blame.

The Cubs choked, after it seemed that it was finally going to be the year. Steve Bartman was just the punchline to the joke. And even that was and continues to be unfair—no doubt about it, but I promise you that any Cubs fan, when asked about Bartman, will immediately talk about the groundball hit to Gonzalez. That’s a fact. It’s a fact that wasn’t pointed out in Catching Hell.

In fact, Catching Hell seemed to go out of its way to protect the media. Oh, it placed a piece of the pie at their feet but it was a small slice and the underlying tone was always that while it was unfortunate, they were just being responsible journalists and doing their jobs with as much integrity as they could. In fact, Steve Bartman was salt that the media got to use to throw into the gaping wound of a dispirited and disappointed city who had come to believe only to be let down once again.

Cubs fans don’t feel any animosity toward Steve Bartman today. He is and forever will be part of the lore and part of the punch line the same way the Billy Goat Curse is but the man lives and works in Chicago to this day. His reclusiveness and his exile are self-imposed. It’s perfectly understandable that he would choose to do so, he was treated HORRIBLY that night by the worst of the Cubs fans. But the people who threw beer at him weren’t the ones sitting next to him. They were the whack jobs who came from all over the park, drunk and stupid as fans often are at sporting events.

The newspapers, the local news shows, the national media all focused on Bartman. Alex Gonzalez’s error wasn’t the leading story anywhere. No one thought that it was a good idea to publish Gonzalez’s address in a newspaper. They had no such issues with releasing Steve Bartman’s address though. If the media had focused on the actual news, Bartman would be a footnote. There’s no romance, intrigue and excitement in that though. Players make errors every day. Managers fail to do their jobs and players throw tantrums all the time. That’s a one-day story. Bartman offered the media a chance to run with something for weeks. They took it. The play itself incited the idiots in the crowd. The media incited all the rest of the idiots in the third largest city in the U.S.

And they were convincing. They got a lot of us. They incited a lot of anger and it was easy to blame Steve Bartman, it was easy to make him the symbol of failure.

Catching Hell seemed to want to show the dark side of man. It wanted to show how cruel fans could be. It made the city of Chicago and it’s people out to be small and petty. It failed to make it’s audience understand what that trip to the World Series would have meant to us. It failed to give an accurate account of the silent majority. It further amplified the voice of a loud minority and it left the media virtually blameless and in many ways, even reluctant and noble.

That’s not what happened. That’s not how it went down. That’s what happens when a Boston Red Sox fan makes a documentary about the Chicago Cubs. Make no mistake, Steve Bartman is a tragic and unfortunate scapegoat. He has suffered pointlessly and cruelly. But if you think you got the whole story from watching Catching Hell, you’re wrong. You got a biased and uneducated version from someone who applied what he knew—the situation with Bill Buckner in Boston, to something he didn’t know—the situation with the 2003 Cubs and while there are similarities, it just wasn’t the same. The situations are not the same and they never were. The perspective of Catching Hell was clouded by a Red Sox fan’s perspective and point of view. And that is why it failed. It made for great television. It was very compelling. It just wasn’t very accurate and that’s sad because the real story is one worth telling.

Warren Buffett & The War on Billionaires

2011-08-17T16:00:00.002-05:00

I know what you’re up to Warren Buffett. You don’t fool me for a second. You may think you’re slick—but you are not, sir.

By now, most of us have read the article in the N.Y. Times written by Buffett where he chides us not to coddle the super-wealthy, like himself, and supports higher taxes for those in the top echelon of the tax bracket. I’m sorry. I’m not buying it though. Something smells fishy and I think I’ve figured it out.

Buffett is scared. And he has good reason to be.

The 2012 election is rapidly approaching and the Yes-We-Can Man that Buffett supported the last time around has become the Well-I-Tried-Really-Hard-But-The-Other-Guys-Are-Really-Mean Guy and he’s in danger of not being elected for a second term. And I don’t know if you’ve taken a good look at any of the Republican Party hopefuls but the group as a whole is crazier than a guy trying to do cartwheels up a flight of stairs.

And here are the facts: We’re in debt—big time. And the Repubs—well, they all like low taxes and starting wars. They’ve learned from the last dummy and this time around when they start lowering taxes they know they’ll need to climb out of debt somehow and no matter how many programs they cut, they’ll never do it that way which leaves one, fairly obvious plan.

Declare war on Billionaires.

Let’s face it. The groundwork has been set. The days of having to declare war on countries is OVER. We can now declare wars on groups of people. The Terrorists came first, but the War on Terror came about when our problem was being afraid. We needed to beat somebody up so we could feel better, tougher, safer and less afraid. Mission accomplished. Just a decade removed from the horrors of 9/11 we do nothing but whine and complain about long lines at airport security checkpoints. We’re positively arrogant, once again, in the face of terrorism.

The new problem is money. We don’t have any. And we don’t do or make anything here anymore. We’re a country full of people with desks, laptops and chairs with good lumbar support. The only thing we actually make are spreadsheets and power point presentations. We fill both of those things with information skewed to prove this point or that one. We talk about metrics and forecasts and synergy. We learned one thing really quick when the economy failed. The majority of the workforce is superfluous. A business owner can fire half of his or her employees and the only difference is less meetings to attend where people try to prove to one and other how smart and important they are and fewer spreadsheets to read.

So, what does this all mean for the future? Well, there’s a good chance that Crazy-Eyes Malone or Maverick McGee is going to be our next president and when they’re in charge there’s really only one possible course of action to take: The War on Billionaires.

It’s a win-win proposition.

These silly bastards have amassed their billions of dollars without ever having built personal armies or allocating vast portions of their wealth to defense! They’re practically helpless! We can invade Warren Buffett’s estate or Bill Gates’ mansion with virtually zero resistance! This is exactly what the GOP needs, a war without a single casualty and no need for an exit strategy! Hell, I’m sure the troops won’t mind occupying the Gates Mansion for a couple years anyway!

We kick guys like Buffett out of their homes, take all of their money and let them live on the streets so their bleeding heart liberal friends can feed them with foodstamps and in the process, we amass enough money to buy our way out of debt and probably even have a little surplus when it’s all said and done! So what if we make 600 former billionaire’s upset in the process? As long as we take care of the millionaires and those making six-figure salaries the Repub base will remain strong.

Oh, they won’t run on this platform of course, but if you pay attention, you can see it forming already. Warren Buffett has certainly seen the writing on the wall. It’s actually pretty comical that he thinks he can volunteer to pay a little bit more in taxes and somehow avoid the inevitability of The War on Billionaires.

It’s too late, I’m afraid. Barrack Obama will be a one-term president. He said he could, but it turns out he couldn’t. There isn’t a single good leader in the entire group of Republican candidates and even if there was, it would be impossible to tell because they all get their talking points from the same place. No, it’s inevitable now. President Palin will be running the show soon and The War on Billionaires will commence. She’ll be posing for pictures in a flight suit after flying onto an aircraft carrier anchored on the slip for Bill Gate’s yacht before you know it.

Debt resolved. Crisis averted. Problem solved. The billionaires may as well adopt a moose with a bad limp as their logo. You had a good run Mr. Buffett and this last gasp effort with the equal tax thing really was a nice try. I hope you make a mean spreadsheet.

Not Quite Ready for Prime Time

2011-08-07T15:33:00.001-05:00

Deion Sanders is a Hall of Famer now, enshrined with the other NFL greats in Canton, Ohio. It’s an honor he has certainly earned. His play, on the field, over his 14-year career, spoke for itself. His mouth and his “Prime Time” persona, however, left many divided on two-sport star though.

I’ve always rooted against Prime Time. Those who self-aggrandize themselves are the ones I want to see fall. I wasn’t alone in that. Deion isn’t shy about calling out “the haters.” These days he does it while praising the Lord, yet another big mouth in the sporting world giving praise to Jesus on the inhale and screaming “look at me!” on the exhale of every breath.

My issue isn’t with the hypocrisy with which he throws the Lord’s name around though. That can stay between he and Jesus and I trust it’ll get worked out just right. My issue is with Prime Time’s speech and more specifically the message it contained and that it was directed at a bunch of kids in a corporately sponsored tee shirts.

In his speech he says: “I never told you, Mama, I played for a youth team called the Fort Myers Rebels. Everybody on that team, their parents were doctors or chiefs of police. Me and my friend were the only African-American kids on that team. I was ashamed of my Mama. My Mama worked in a hospital. She pushed a cart in a hospital. I was ashamed of my Mama, who sacrificed everything for me to make sure I was best-dressed in school.
One of my friends in high school saw her pushing a cart and clowned me because of my Mama. So I made a pledge to myself that I don't care what it takes, I'm not gonna do anything illegal, but my Mama would never have to work another day of her life.”

I forgive you, Deion, for being ashamed of your mother, as a kid, in that situation. And I understand how something like that can motivate a kid—as it apparently did in Sanders’ case to achieve more. Kids are foolish and stupid and don’t understand what’s truly important in life. What’s unacceptable is that Prime Time doesn’t seem to truly understand that what his mom did for him is real. He fails to appreciate that there was honor in pushing that cart. There was honor in sacrificing so that he could be, “best-dressed in school.”

Deion, you gave your mom more money than she’s ever probably known what to do with, but you didn’t save her. She didn’t need saving. It sounds like she had honor and integrity and a strong work ethic and life may not have been easy for her, life may not have been a piece of cake, but she was managing and doing the best she could. Deion said that he had been ashamed of her. He never said that he stopped being ashamed. He talked about how he tackled every bill she was sent after he turned Pro.

He went on to say that he created the Prime Time persona as a way of seeing to it that cornerbacks got paid more in an NFL where a premium wasn’t really placed on that position. He thinks that he’s the reason why they do now, though pass-happy offensive guru Mike Martz, in attendance in support of Marshall Faulk who was also enshrined, probably had more to do with that than Prime Time ever did. He said that he did it all for his mama. Everything was for his mama.

I’m sorry, Deion. I’m just not buying it. The honest part of what he said was that he was ashamed of her. That shame certainly motivated him. He has, unquestionably, provided for his mother and given her a luxurious second half to her life. It wasn’t all for her though. It was because he didn’t want to push a cart in a hospital. It was because he still doesn’t see the honor in pushing that cart.

He went on to say later in his speech: “What are we doing with this platform? Are we just walking around with these gold jackets? Let's provoke change. Truth family, I love you. We are raising your kids to be CEOs, not employees, leaders, not followers.”

I’ve got some news for you Prime Time. CEOs sit around in boardrooms and talk but their subordinates are the ones who get things done. And every General in the history of war will tell you that it was the soldiers, not themselves who won the battles that shaped the world we live in. Success isn’t the money in your bank accounts, it’s not the number of celebrity friends who come to watch you give a speech, it’s not a matter of whether people see you as a shot caller or a follower. Success is about being the best you can be.

Your mom was a success long before you gave her cars and jewelry and a big fancy house. She wasn’t a leader; she was a follower. She wasn’t a CEO; she was an employee. She was a woman with a kid who wanted the world and she provided him with the opportunity to take it. She provided that opportunity by pushing a cart. She provided that opportunity by cleaning up after people who probably didn’t appreciate what she did. She provided that opportunity because it was the right thing to do. It wasn’t about getting respect for her. It was about putting food on the table.

There’s dignity in pushing a cart, Deion. There’s honor in cleaning up after others. There are important people in this world who will never hold a press conference or fly in a private jet. Prime Time was never about your mother. Prime Time, like everything else in your career, was all about you.

There’s a Hall of Fame for people though, Prime Time. I know that you know all about it because you’re big on praising Jesus. When it comes time for induction into that hallowed hall, I think you may be surprised to find that all the first ballot inductees to that sacred place are the people like your mom who pushed the carts because they cared about others, more than they ever cared about themselves.

Harry Potter and the Failed Finale

2011-07-16T10:56:00.001-05:00

The Harry Potter movie series ended this weekend with a resounding thud, but you may not have heard it. You may have been there in the theater cheering and clapping and crying and under the assumption that you’d just seen a great movie and a very satisfying ending to the franchise. I propose that you’ve been cleverly bamboozled.

Let’s start with the basics. This movie wasn’t bad. On many levels it was even good. One thing it did particularly well was use a number of touchstones from the books that, often with just a single shot, (instead of a well-played scene) stirred great emotions. There were quite a few times when a well-placed image caused the waterworks to start for people around me in the theater. However, it wasn’t so much the movie they were crying at as it was the memory of a scene in the books. It’s a clever ploy, but it’s entirely dependant upon the book. I’m guessing that people who have never read the books came away with a much different experience than those who did. Of course, you’ll say that anyone who didn’t read the books isn’t a real Potterphile and that’s why they didn’t get as emotional as you may have, but in fact—the movie didn’t inspire the emotion, the memory of the emotion the book stirred was simply referenced to bring it back to the forefront of your mind.

You could almost excuse the director for this tactic if he was trying to cram the very robust book into a single movie, but he took two movies up telling the final story and his failure to nail the emotional scenes leaves this series with a very empty ending.

***

Another sour note, and this one quite literally, was the musical score of the final movie which failed miserably, and as much could have been predicted when it was announced that legendary composer John Williams wasn’t going to return for the final installment. Williams, of course, composed the famous Harry Potter theme and did the score for the first three Potter movies. He’s also responsible for a few other little ditties you may have heard such as the theme music and scores for movies like Star Wars, Jurassic Park, Jaws, Indiana Jones, E.T., and Superman. Do you know what all of those movies—and their sequels have in common? You left the theater with those songs in your head and feeling magical because of it.

Since Williams stopped doing the scores for the Potter movies, that hasn’t been true of those films and certainly wasn’t true of the final chapter. In fact, the main theme, the music written by Williams for the original movies, the song that IMMEDIATELY comes to mind when you think of Harry Potter and even plays in your mind as you read the books now was entirely absent until the actors were off screen and the movie had faded to black. It certainly wasn’t on my mind after I’d left the theater.

It will be argued, of course, that the movies took on a darker, more ominous tone than was apparent in the first three movies and that the original themes did not fit. This couldn’t be further from the truth of course. Over the years, Williams has proven to be a genius at adapting his own, light and grand themes into dark and permeating ones. Through the use of different instruments, different parts of his orchestra and different accompaniment to his base tune, he could have stapled the theme all over this movie, as he did with the various themes in Star Wars.

Want proof that the musical scoring has been screwed up since Williams left? I’ll make it simple. Can you hum the Darth Vader theme? How about the Voldemort theme? The former is the most famous bad-guy music in the world. The latter does not exist because Voldemort doesn’t become an actual character until after Williams stopped doing the composing for the movies.

One final point on the music is this one: When I read the book, I remember being most moved by the scene where Harry makes the long march to confront his fate at the hands of Voldemort accompanied by all those he’s lost. It was an emotional and heartrending scene. I remember thinking that the music during the march could literally make or break the movie version. I knew it had to be a version of the famous Harry Potter theme. I knew it needed to start timid and afraid and it needed to work its way up as Harry gained courage from those with him and by the end of his trek, it had to be at it’s crescendo and I imagined this amazing brass baseline staccato with a powerful snare drumline making the theme into an actual march. I knew that if they got the music in that scene right they’d nail the movie.

Of course, that never became realized in the movie. In fact, that fantastic scene was truncated and the music didn’t play much part in it at all. What a shame and a waste.

***

If you’re making a book into a movie, there are certain things that need to be changed and they can’t be helped. It’s the reason why people almost always say that the book is better than the movie. So, it’s reasonable and understandable that certain parts of the book needed to be changed in order to bring it to the big screen. The most egregious changes were the ones that didn’t need to be made at all. The above-mentioned scene where Harry marches into the woods to meet his fate is cut down to a quick pow-wow and a, “okay, I’m here” scene. That one of the most powerful chapters in the final book was cut to shreds even though the director had two movies to get it all in is an absolute shame. That scene was THE tear jerker scene in the book. It’s the perfect example of the director just showing a quick glimpse of something that readers know means much more. So, did the lovers of the book get choked up at that scene? Probably. Was it because of the movie? No.

Even more inexplicable were some of the changes that seem to have been made for the change’s sake alone. For the entire series we’ve seen that memories, extracted by wand and put into a vial are what you pour into a Pensieve allowing others to see your memories. All the sudden, for no reason, and without any explanation, the scene is changed so that Harry collects Snape’s tears to use in the pensieve? Why? Why change it? Was that supposed to make it more emotional for us? Was that designed to jerk a few tears? All it did for me was confuse things and make me wonder why a book with so many emotional scenes for a director to choose from was changed so that some of the most touching scenes were skipped over with unemotional scenes changed to stir sentiment up in the audience.

***

This movie franchise captured our hearts and minds in a way similar to the books. Seeing Diagon Alley brought to life for the first time was amazing. Getting to see Quidditch actually being played was truly very cool. The early movies in this series gave a depth to the books and forever associated certain images in our minds. You know it was done well because as we went back to books as they were released our own perceptions of those places and things had been forever changed—and not in a bad way. Books are all about imagination and the reader’s interaction with author to jointly create the scenes and characters. Movies steal that from us. They say THIS is what the characters look like. THIS is what this place looks like. The participation of the viewer is much less than that of the reader. However, so brilliantly were the early movies cast, imagined and shot that very few people I’ve ever encountered have challenged them.

I’m happy with my image of the three main characters being that of the actors who play them. I’m happy with my image of Hogwarts being the one shown in the movies. Any and every detail they might have gotten wrong could have been a major issue for the readers of the books, but they did such a fantastic job in the early movies in imagining the world and staying true to what J.K. Rowling had written that it seemed to almost magically fit into all of our own imaginings.

Then things took a turn for the worse. John Williams absence can’t be understated, but more than that, as the movies took on the books increasingly darkening subject matter they lost the sense of magic that propelled us in the beginning. The humorous moments in the final installment were so out of place that they seemed entirely forced when they came. The final three movies (from the final two books) failed miserably. And somehow, they still managed to be well received. I think it’s more the fact that they could have been so much more than they were than that they were bad. I think it’s more that they took short cuts and relied on their audience knowing the books in order to bring on emotion and feeling than doing it in the movie itself that most disappoints.

There was wild applause at the end of the movie in the theater where I saw it. Quite a few people walked out with tears in their eyes. I’m willing to bet they had all read the books. And the people who walked out looking slightly confused were the ones who didn’t read them. Every review I’ve read has been positive. Every opinion I’ve heard has been good. I’ve read a lot of Facebook status messages talking about people who had a good two hour cry after the movie, but I’ll be surprised, upon further reflection, and down the road if this ending is so universally liked. I think the cheap tricks used to stir emotion won’t hold up to multiple viewings. I think the lack of that magical feeling will be missed and when people look down at their box set of DVDs of the whole movie franchise, I bet it’s the early movies they tend to pick out to watch, not the later ones and rarely, if ever, the finale.

With all of this said, I didn’t dislike the movie. I didn’t hate it. The problem was that I didn’t love it and after years of being a fan, years of going to see the movies, years of following along online I felt I was entitled to an ending that I could love and I think the director, David Yeats and the producers failed to deliver that to me. And I suspect, when the smoke clears and you see through the clever misdirection, you’ll come to find that this movie was a bit more empty than you first thought it was too.

Pottermore: A Whole New Ballgame

2011-06-23T15:39:00.002-05:00

In sports, it’s called a game-changer. It’s that play, that moment, that person who shakes everything up and changes forever the course of a game. Recently, J.K. Rowling has decided to be a game-changer in the publishing industry and where this may lead, no one knows. Ms. Rowling has announced the launch of Pottermore, a website from which she will exclusively sell her famous Harry Potter book series in digital format.

Until now, if you wanted to read any of the Potter books you’ve had to do it the old fashioned way and actually buy or borrow an honest-to-goodness, book of printed word on bound paper. But starting with the release of the Pottermore site on Harry’s birthday, July 31st, you’ll be able to pay for and download the e-book version of each of the seven bestsellers over a wide number of platforms.

Yesterday, publishing companies were cutting book stores out of the loop by shifting sales to e-book and online-related merchandise and today, just like that, in one fell swoop, Rowling has eliminated the need for publishers by skipping them in the process. The question is what does this mean for the future?

Initially, it means very little. J.K. Rowling has power that very few other authors do and that is the power to make the buyer come to her. The Potter books are a proven commodity, they are books that draw people in not just to read once, but to re-read multiple times, like visiting old friends. They are also collectible in that parents want to have them for their own kids to read someday (and to help explain why they might have a tattoo of a Hippogriff on their chest). To tech savvy young parents that means collecting them digitally, not on some dusty old shelf. In other words, Rowling can confidently set up her Pottermore website, announce it to the world and fully expect the buyers to come to her.

She doesn’t need the book resellers. She doesn’t need a publishing house. She doesn’t need Amazon or anyone else. All she has to do is ring the dinner bell and wait for the crowds to come running. In doing so, she deprives resellers and the publishing industry of millions, if not billions of dollars—all of which they would have gladly taken for doing what actually amounts to very little. If Rowling had announced that she was simply releasing the books in an e-reader compliant version and gone through traditional channels, it would have been seen as a boon to the entire industry. Instead what they receive is a harsh wake up call.

Fortunately for publishers, it doesn’t mean much more than the loss of some free revenue in the short term--the U.S. & U.K. Publishers are only receiving a small percentage of the earnings with Pottermore Publishing receiving the lion's share. J.K. Rowling may have the power, influence and product to be able to step out on her own and cut out all the greedy little hands grabbing at percentages of her work, but few other writers do. Even writers as prolific as Stephen King would have trouble, drawing customers to a site, which sold only his works. Cult favorites like Stephanie Meyer may be taking notice though.

Looking ahead, you can almost map out the strategies for the publishing giants. They will insist on total control from new writers. They will squeeze even more than they already do from writers who are desperate to make their way into the business. That strategy is as flawed as is it is obvious the direction they will take. It reminds me of a line from Star Wars when Princess Leia says: “The more you tighten your grip…the more star systems will slip through your fingers.” Substitute dollars for star systems and you can see the murky future of book publishers and retailers.

What writers are going to start to do is to take a good look at what exactly they get from their publishers. Do they offer marketing support in line with the percentage of revenue and rights they demand? The answer for most writers will be, simply, “no.” By pushing the publishing industry toward the e-reader and sales through online platforms, they have essentially made themselves obsolete.

Do you think the people at Amazon aren’t taking notice of this event? What they have to be asking themselves is what is it exactly that the publishing houses offer them? Amazon is the unquestioned king of online retail and marketing. As we steer closer to a paper-free world, why wouldn’t a company like that approach recognizable authors and tempt them to sell directly and only through their company? The publishing giants have made themselves irrelevant middlemen in the process.

Authors have to ask what a publisher truly does for them now? They demand much, that’s for certain. But what do they provide? Do you think the online outlets will stop selling the works of best-selling authors simply because they are no longer attached to publishers? Of course not. Do the publishers manage the distribution of the product to stores around the world? Not anymore they don’t. Do the publishers market books to the world in a way that creates excitement and generates sales? No. The marketing arm of the publishing industry is as impotent as old men before Viagra and as creative as a 4th grade math teacher.

The answer, plain and simple is that the publishing industry, which is going to demand more and more, is capable of providing less and less. The tighter they squeeze, the more writers and dollars will slip through their fingers. Self-published books have been something of a joke until now, but in the blink of an eye they have become so much more. Every author in the world is questioning his or her relationship with their publisher today. Every one of them is asking themselves, besides stifle creativity, sap financially and control draconically—what does my publishing house do for me?

The next question they’ll ask is who can do it better? Who can do it for less, allowing me to earn more for the work that I have done? The weeks of touring cities and doing book signings will become a single sit down for a live webinar marketed to millions. It will be twice as effective, take a fraction of the time and allow the writers to more quickly get back to what they do best—write.

The launch of Pottermore is historic one. It won’t be overnight, but this is the beginning of the end for book publishers. They worked to usher in the next age, forsaking trusted, long-term partners and now they will pay the price for their lack of vision. They have made themselves obsolete. J.K. Rowling is just the first in what is sure to be a long line of defectors. The game has changed and nothing will ever be the same again. The switch to e-reading platforms is now solidified and the need for publisher is gone. The online giants will take over now. Here’s hoping they take better care of literature than their forbearers have.

We All Want To Be Appreciated

2011-01-20T11:25:00.001-06:00

I know that it wasn’t meant to be, but Facebook has become something of an interesting sociology study for those of us who care to pay attention. It’s amazing you learn about your friends and about people in general by watching the various status updates they post. I’m sure it would be much different if I was 15 years younger—I’d spend my time reading about which parties were fun and who hooked up with whom. My social circle, on the whole, is a bit past that though. My friends are living for the weekend so that they can spend time with family and get things done around the house. It’s pretty boring really.

Some people (okay, maybe me) try to be funny in their posts, others are constantly trying to help the rest of us find Jesus (apparently he’s lost). Some post pictures of kids and vacations. Some are on crusades to end child abuse by changing their profile picture to a cartoon character from their own childhood (no one has been able to explain to me exactly how that works though). If you pay attention to all of this you can really learn a lot about the people you supposedly already know.

By far though, the most commonly repeated status sentiment is that people want to be appreciated. On any given day, I can sign in and see that a teacher, police officer, firefighter, active military personnel, military wife, veteran or nurse is feeling neglected and take the opportunity to remind the rest of the world that we are lucky that they do what they do for us.

I don’t dispute this. We are lucky. There’s a good chance you owe quite a bit of appreciation to any or all of these people. I know I do.

I suppose where I have a difference in opinion is the part where I am supposed to acknowledge and leave a note, re-post it if I agree or “like” this status—or the sentiment behind it. And granted, I certainly have the right to just pass it by if I so choose but these things really start to bug me after a while.

The idea that these certain professions are of greater nobility than others is the part that irritates me. Last I checked, all of the people I listed above—directly or indirectly, are getting paid for what they do. With the exception of the military personnel and veterans, the people who do these jobs are doing it for the paycheck. This isn’t to say that it’s not a calling for some of them and that they don’t devote their entire being to doing it well. What I’m saying is that I’ve had more bad teachers than I’ve had good ones. I’ve been treated rudely by more nurses than those by whom I’ve felt truly cared for; I’ve witnessed police and fire professionals using their jobs to gain free food and tickets to the game. I’ve been pulled over and given tickets by police officers who have treated me like I was the scum of the Earth for going five miles an hour over the speed limit—no matter how respectful I was of them.

Now my friends are my friends because I believe them to be good people. I have no doubt that they do their jobs and do them well for reasons that go far above and beyond the paycheck. Still though, I have a problem universally appreciating their professions. A police officer will tell you that we should appreciate them because they keep us safe. True enough. Without construction workers we’d have no homes to live in or roads to drive on though. I’ve never seen any of my friends who work construction asking to be appreciated. A nurse will tell you that they are on the front lines, taking care of you when you are sick. They certainly are. You’re more likely to see the Easter Bunny and Santa Clause tap-dancing down the halls than you are to see your doctor more than once a day while you’re in the hospital. Of course, you’d starve if not for the people down in the kitchen making your food.

The point isn’t that we shouldn’t appreciate nurses and cops and firefighters. We should! The idea that we should appreciate them because they somehow live a higher calling than the rest of us is bullshit though. We all make the world a better place in whatever way we can. We all deserve to be appreciated for that. The customer service representative who helps you fix some problem, the mechanic who gets your car running, the person behind the deli counter who slices your lunchmeat extra thin the way you like it. Appreciation should be given for how you do your job not just because of the job itself.

A good teacher imparts a value that cannot be repaid in a lifetime. The difference between a good nurse and a bad one can mean life and death. Police officers and firefighters often have to put themselves into harm’s way so that we can be safe. Our Soldiers, Marines, Airmen, Seamen and Guardsmen selflessly fight for principles most of us have long forgotten and take for granted every day. Their spouses are forced to raise families on low income and too often on their own. These people deserve appreciation but are any of these people truly more noble than a single mother who works three low-wage jobs waiting tables to support her kids? I say no.

You deserve appreciation because of who you are and what you do, not for the job you hold. And we all want and need to feel appreciated. We all do the best we can. We all try to make the world a better place in our own way. And though appreciation is always nice, the people who truly make a difference in the world don’t do so for the appreciation. The joy of service isn’t in the thank you, it’s in the difference you make in the world around you. The truly noble don’t pander for appreciation, it’s nice, but it’s not the high they get from simply doing good, doing right and not allowing all of the shit in the world to drag them down to it’s level.

If you take anything away from this take the reminder that we all need and deserve to be appreciated. We can all use a reminder that the things we do make a difference in the lives of others. If the smile on the face of the barista at your local coffee shop is infectious and starts you off in a good mood—tell them so. If someone holds a door open for you, look them in the eye and say thank you. If you know a single parent who struggles to get by it’s okay to let them know that you admire them. And yes, when your life is touched by any of the people I’ve talked about through this piece, don’t just take what they do for you for granted. Let them know how much it means to you.

We all want to be appreciated. We all want to feel important. We all want to know that the things we do to make a difference are noticed by others and that we are valued and respected for them. And the next time you feel the urge to post a plea for that appreciation, for that value and respect, show that you are truly a noble person by choosing instead to give some thought to those people in your own life who might feel underappreciated and take the opportunity to make them feel valued instead.

“And I hear them saying you’ll never change things
And no matter what you do it’s still the same thing
But it’s not the world that I am changing
I do this so this world will know
That it will not change me.” -Garth Brooks, The Change

Why I Vote

2010-11-02T17:35:00.000-05:00

I went to vote today and in every single case, I voted for the person whom I thought would be lesser of two evils. I don’t support a single candidate. When the results are announced, I will be completely ambivalent about the results because I fully believe this was a damned if you do, damned if you don’t election. There simply were no good choices. Each and every candidate has major, glaring flaws that make me uncomfortable with the option of them being responsible for running of our government.

I know a lot of people who are choosing not to vote for this very reason. Me? This is the exact reason why I felt I had to vote. It goes beyond my patriotic belief that my vote is sacred. I would vote, and always have voted, for no other reason than the many lives that were sacrificed so that I may have the right to do so. I would vote for no other reason that my great appreciation for all of those who have served, bled and given of themselves for the defense of that right. Those reasons stand the test of time and should be enough to always compel each and every one of us to vote, but the worse things get, the worse my options are for these positions of power in our government, the more I vote so that above all, I can simply be counted.

My vote isn’t going to swing things one way or the other. My vote isn’t going to decide any particular race. My vote, while as educated a vote I could make it, wasn’t as educated as it should or could have been. But when the polls close and they tally the number of people who did come out to vote today, I want to stand up and be counted among them. Today, I voted not for any particular candidate, but rather to stand up and not be pushed away by the inadequacies I found in each of them.

Since I reached voting age, the average number of people who have voted is under 50% of the eligible voters. Often, the number of voters has been around 30%. I want to be counted because I know that things are bad. I know that the choices between these candidates is even worse. The problem with that is that all of these bad candidates, these bad choices, are sadly going to keep people from going out and voting. I want to be counted because I know that until we do turn out in numbers, nothing will change. I’d rather pick between two poor choices than not choose at all because not choosing is a choice for the status quo.

Politicians are like children and we are their parents. Right now, we are like parents who leave their children to do whatever they choose without consequence over half of the time. We are, very literally, absentee parents. We only have bullies, brats, the self-absorbed and the corrupt to choose from because we have ignored them, we have let them get out of control. They do not respect us. They do not listen to us. They have never known any kind of discipline and that is why they act with impunity.

We are a country run by naughty little children because we have allowed them become so and when all the little children are poorly behaved, we have nothing else from which to choose. We must choose the lesser of two evils because we allow them to perpetuate in their jobs.

Think about exactly who is voting when the turnout is poor. It’s the extremists from each side who make up those numbers. It’s the wildly liberal. It’s the staunchly conservative. Despite what all of the 24/7 news channels would have you believe, those people do not make up our majority as a nation. They do make up a large percentage of the people who do actually vote though. Is it any wonder why those elected feel little need to do anything but thwart the agenda of other side? Is it any wonder why our government is so polarized?

We elect petulant children who either get their way or scream, rant, rave and cry. We’ve been poor parents to them. We have allowed them to act this way. Imagine for just a second how things would be the voter turnout was 70%? 80%? 90%? Imagine if each of those people voted for an independent candidate just to send a message? Imagine what change could occur if we put the fear of God into them the way our parents used to with us?

What if we said to them: We see you. We know what you’re doing. We don’t like it. Shape up or you’re going to be grounded. What if we let them know that we were there and we weren’t going anywhere? What if we put them on notice? Shape up or ship out! What if we put an end to this Lord of the Flies government?

It doesn’t matter for whom you vote. It matters that you do vote. It matters that you too stand up and be counted. It matters because even if you choose between the lesser of two evils today, the fact that you chose will not go unnoticed. It doesn’t matter whether or not you have an opinion on every topic. It doesn’t matter if you have to vote for a candidate who believes something different from what you do on some issues. At the end of the day, with your vote or without it, someone is going to be elected. Your vote does not constitute your approval of any candidate, it lets them know that they work for you.

Abraham Lincoln once said: “You can fool some of the people all the time, and all of the people some of the time, but you can't fool all of the people all of the time” I voted today because the more of us do, the closer our politicians will have to heed the warning inherent in that quote. It’s easy to fool the polarized portions of our nation. Each side tries to make its constituents fear everything the other side does. It’s easy to make people with harshly contrasting opinions afraid of each other. If those of us who aren’t afraid just chose to vote then fear alone would no longer win elections. Negative campaigning only appeals to the most base of us. What if enough of us voted that they had to earn their jobs instead of getting them because they made you fear someone else more? I vote because I want them know I’m out there. I want them to know I care. I want them to know I’m watching. If you don’t vote, you’re not just part of the problem, you ARE the problem. No matter how ignorant you may when it comes to politics, no matter how little you know of each candidate, no matter how much you may dislike each and every person running, when you fail to vote, you appease the very process which allows those people to be running in the first place. Your vote does count. It counts toward more than the tally for any particular candidate. It matters because the first rule of being a good parent is showing up. Every parent makes mistakes along the way raising a child, but those who always try, those who are always there, those who are always vigilant seem to always wind up with the best behaved children.

Your vote does count. Stop neglecting these petulant children we’ve raised. It’s time to put them over our knee. The children don’t run this house. We do.

Vote.

Bullying the Bullies.

2010-10-21T13:15:00.000-05:00

Bullying. Bullying is big news now. Everyone wants to stop bullying. Everyone is very concerned about bullying. Bullies are evil. Bullying is bad. The victims of bullying are brave people. Bullying should be met with zero tolerance by schools and organizations. No bullying allowed! Get it?

I’ve never been very much of a politically correct mind. Maybe I’m alone in this sentiment, but I’m getting a little tired of all the whining and crying about people being bullied. People have been getting bullied since the dawn of man. The problem today isn’t that bullying is more common, it’s not that there are more bullies or that their methods of bullying are more brutal. The problem is that the bullied are bigger wusses than at any point ever before.

We used to think of being bullied as a right of passage. Stand up to the bully and you learn a valuable lesson about life! Stand up for yourself and learn that respect must be demanded, not hoped and wished for. We don’t see it that way anymore though. Today, we see the bullied as victims. And they are victims, but not simply victims of bullying, but victims of their own spinelessness.

Bullying becomes big news every time some poor kid kills him or herself after being bullied. It’s such a tragedy! Well, yes. It is a tragedy when a kid feels like they have no alternative to killing themselves, but the tragedy isn’t in the fact that the kid was bullied, it’s in the fact that they felt they were helpless to do anything about it.

I’m not making excuses for bullies. I just think that targeting bullies is a stupid way to solve the problem. There will always be bullies. Eliminating bullies is like eliminating lying. It can’t happen. You can all join hand and sing Kumbaya til the cows come home, but there will always be bullies. As long as some kids are bigger than others, as long as some kids are jealous of others, as long as some kids are so desperate to conform that they are willing to ridicule and prey upon those who don’t there will be bullying. There have always been bullies and there will always be bullies.

What’s changed isn’t the bully, it’s the victim.

Think about it. Think about how we raise our children. We don’t keep score at their tee-ball and soccer games. Everybody wins! Everybody gets a trophy! Equal playing time for all! No one ever loses. No one ever learns how to lose. And for that matter, no one gets to learn how to win graciously either. If a child is falling behind in the classroom, the class slows down so that the student doesn’t get left behind.

Excuses are made. Parents appease their children. Now, more than ever before, parents shield, guard and protect their children from the slightest hint of harm, unhappiness or the mere idea that they aren’t as good, as smart, as athletic, as talented, as gifted as the kid next door. Everyone is equal. Of course, that’s not the reality of it. We’re not all equal. Some of us are smarter than others. Some of us are more athletic than others. Some of us are big, some of us are small, some of us are cool, some of us are dorks. We are all different. That’s the thing that makes us special. Parents, though, want their kids to be special just like everyone else’s kids. Every parent wants his or her kid to be the starting quarterback or the homecoming queen.

Every parent wants their kid to be liked, to be popular, to be smart, to get into the best college, to find the perfect boyfriend or girlfriend. Parents have idealized how their kids lives should be. So, is it any wonder that when life doesn’t turn out like the parents expect it to, that the kids feel like they have nowhere to turn?

If little Timmy likes to draw and spends hours drawing the things he imagines in his mind, why don’t we celebrate that? If he grows up to become a well-paid graphic designer it’s certainly okay, but as a child the kid who keeps to himself and draws centaurs is somehow less than what a parent thinks he should be. He should have more friends. He should have a girlfriend. He should play soccer.

If little Susie likes other girls and dreams of a wedding where she is standing next to another woman, we don’t celebrate that. We call it a phase. We know she’ll grow out of it. She’s just rebelling. Even if her parents do “accept” her, very few actually do support her for her for what she is, do they?

No. The problem isn’t the bullies. The problem is the parents. Parents have this idealized vision of what their kids should be. Parents isolate kids from pain and failure and loss because they think a strong ego is what’s necessary to make it in this world. They are wrong. Childhood is difficult. It is the fire in which we are tempered. It is the proving ground where we earn the right to someday be called adults.

The problem isn’t the bullies. The problem is that kids don’t understand how to stand up to them. We live in a world more connected than at any time in our history. If you’re being picked on because you’re a nerd, there are tens of thousands of nerds only a few clicks away. You are not alone. If you are gay and living in small town and feel the full weight of how different you are, you are only a few clicks from being with people just like you who truly understand what you are going through. Strange then, that people feel more alone than they ever have before.

I don’t blame the bullies. I blame the parents of the bullied. I blame the culture in which they raise kids. I blame the parents for not teaching their kids to stand up for themselves. I blame the parents for sheltering their kids from hurt and pain and naively thinking that it’s a good thing. I blame the parents robbing their kids the lessons that are only learned in defeat. I blame the people who try to make everything fair. Life isn’t fair. Why should childhood be? A fair childhood only leads to an unrealistic ability to deal with real life and the completely unfair curves it throws.

We have raised a generation of children who are incapable of coping with unfairness because they never learned to do so as kids because they never had to because mommy and daddy were always there to make sure everything was equal and balanced and fair and right and good. We live in a Capitalist nation where competition is everything and we raise our kids on the concepts of Socialism where everything is balanced and fair and equal and as they leave the nest, is it any wonder why now, more than ever, bullies band together and find strength in their own conformity? Is it any wonder how those don’t conform, whether by their own choice or not, are so lost?

Ironic, isn’t it, that the same parents who so poorly prepared their kids for the realities of the world and how hard life can be, now choose to blame the bullies? Let’s not look inward. Let’s not accept any blame ourselves. It’s the bullies fault. We must band together against them. We are the adults after all! They are just children. We can band together and…bully them into being nice.

Right?

Common Sense Relief

2010-10-07T13:55:00.001-05:00

Ah, the Fall! The air is crisp, the weather cool, the leaves are turning and the candidates are attacking. That’s right, it’s election time too and just in time for Halloween it seems there’s even a witch running for office! It’s the same old thing really. The Democrats are begging for time and saying that it takes time to crawl out of the hole the Republicans dug. The Republicans are saying that the Democrats are only making things worse and putting our grandchildren’s grandchildren in debt.

Of course taxes and tax cuts are hot button issues, so I find it just a bit more than ironic when my television switches from Democrat attack ad to Republican attack ad to…something called American Tax Relief. Have you seen this commercial? It features a bevy of smiling, happy couples who say things like: “We owed $3,000,000 in taxes but thanks to American Tax Relief, we only wound up paying less than $1,000,000!” Or, “We owed $60,000 in taxes and we only paid $300! Thanks American Tax Relief!”

My question is this: When did the IRS start bending over like that?

Would you like to know how much I paid in taxes last year? If you guessed every bit that I owed, you’d be right! That’s how taxes work. Isn’t it? You, or your accountant, figure out what you owe and then you pay it. Apparently, if you don’t pay it though and you wait a few years and then go to American Tax Relief they can settle with the IRS so that you pay only a fraction of what you actually owe.

It makes me wonder why any of us actually pay our taxes at all? Why not just hold out, spend that money and then settle for a significantly smaller amount at some point in the future? Does anyone else find it kind of insulting that the politicians keep blaming each other for all of our problems and meanwhile there’s some company out there who’s entire purpose is to help people not pay the taxes that they owe?

We do have a deficit don’t we?

“We owed $400,000 in taxes, but thanks to American Tax Relief, we only paid $60,000!”

Is it any wonder why we have a deficit? I understand its better to collect something than nothing but if the settlement amounts being reported on these commercials are true, we the people are getting screwed!

Then I watch some more of these political attack ad commercials and I listen to the “issues” they talk about. I can’t help but wonder why or how we ever expect things to get better when we keep electing officials based on issues that don’t really matter. Gay marriage isn’t going to get us out of debt. Abortion isn’t going to fix our foreign policy or win any wars. Whether or not someone used to be a witch doesn’t have any bearing on the unemployment figures. Maybe we the people aren’t so different from the IRS after all. We’re owed great things from our government and we accept a parade of clown college rejects. I wonder if American Tax Relief brokers elections too?

The Hunger Games Trilogy: Books on Fire!

2010-08-30T16:31:00.001-05:00

Into the void left when J.K. Rowling concluded her Harry Potter series has emerged an amazing new series that sadly, has now too concluded with the third installment, which was released just this month. I’m speaking, of course, about Suzanne Collins young adult themed Hunger Games series which begins with The Hunger Games, continues with Catching Fire and concludes with Mockingjay.

As I did with the Harry Potter novels, I allowed others to test drive the series before I chose to involve myself and as the hype regarding the final installment intensified, I found myself unable to resist the lure and I’m very happy for that particular weakness. The Hunger Games Trilogy was simply amazing.

The books tell the story of Katniss Everdeen who lives in the post-apocalyptic remnants of the United States called Panem. The country is divided up into 12 poverty-stricken districts and controlled under the tight fist of the extravagant Capitol. Each year, as a remind of the Capitol’s absolute control and as punishment for the rebellion of the now-destroyed 13th District many years ago, two children between the ages of 12 and 18 are chosen in The Reaping from every district and those reaped are placed into a wilderness arena where they must either kill or be killed until at last, only one remains.

The Hunger Games are televised and mandatory viewing for the people in each district and they must watch as the slaughter goes on. When Katniss’ sister is chosen, knowing that she could never survive the games, Katniss chooses to volunteer herself in her place.

To say more would to be to ruin the fun for those of you who haven’t yet read this series, but rest assured that while the first book deals almost exclusively with the games, the second two take on a much deeper and more political and allegorical theme. The stories are so well written and the suspension of disbelief so aptly achieved that many in the young adult target audience will likely miss many of the political messages in this series, but those who know their history will surely see a clearly defined anti-big government, anti-socialist, anti-big brother stance taken by the author.

At one point, she seemingly takes aim at our lives here in the U.S. today when she has one character relate to another the latin phrase, “panem et circenses” or “bread and circuses” and goes on to teach her that if you keep people’s belly’s full of bread and entertain them, they will take no interest in government and therefore corruption can take hold.

The characters are rich and enigmatic. This is not just a lesson on politics and history, in fact it’s much more an adventure and a love story. It offers the kind of fast paced action that the video game era kids need to keep them occupied and it is tempered with a dramatic love triangle that will have you picking sides like it’s a Burger King commercial.

And that is, perhaps, the The Hunger Games Trilogy’s most amazing asset, it is everything that the other heir apparent to the Harry Potter throne is not. At no point, while reading The Hunger Games, will you feel like you’re in the hands of an amateur writer as you most certainly must when reading Twilight. While people either seem to love or hate Stephanie Meyer’s series, The Hunger Games delivers in such a way that it clearly triumphs over Twilight. It offers substance, it’s amazingly well written, fast paced, thought provoking and poignant. It is everything that Twilight is not. Meyer gives you sparkly vampires, Collins counters with a girl on fire.

This is a series of unassuming heroes who rise to challenges they should never have to face. It is a series of truly evil villains—some who are easily recognizable and some who are hiding in plain sight. It is a lesson about what happens when a people becomes disinterested in their government. It is a testament to man’s inhumanity toward man. It borrows themes from sources as old as ancient Greece and as contemporary as today’s latest headlines.

My only complaint is the context in which many of the young adults, who are the target audience for these books, have with which to understand the themes. The book speaks out against socialism and paints a picture of a socialist state similar to the former Soviet Union, however these kids are bombarded with the term socialism at every turn in today’s media and the opportunity to misunderstand Collins’ thoughts and ideas are rampant. Considering the great lengths at which she went to take shots at the media and the propaganda they spew, I don’t believe she purposefully left out that proper context, but it’s omission is sad in that will allow some to use her books for purposes which I do not believe she meant them.

Simply put, to miss out on this series would be a mistake. You could wait for the movies, which will be coming out over the next few years, but I’m afraid you’d miss the rich tapestry, underlying themes and be left with only the action and romance if you do. Pick them up. Read them. You won’t regret it.

Mosque Near Ground Zero

2010-08-24T15:34:00.001-05:00

Everyone has their underwear in a bunch over the proposed plan to build a mosque only 600 feet from ground zero in New York where the World Trade Center once stood. Some are protesting the plan, saying that it would be a disgrace to those who died on 9/11 to have a mosque built so close to where they died. Some are fighting the protesters saying that our country was actually founded on some arcane principle known as the freedom of religion.

For my part, I don’t really care where any mosques are built. Maybe I’m a fool, but I don’t think all Islamic people are terrorists. Oh, and I don’t think that those who are would ever set up shop in a huge building that used to house a Burlington Coat Factory only 600 feet from their last big target. I tend to think the bad guys will probably try to stay on the down low. At very worst, if they do try to hide in plain sight, then maybe that’s not such a bad thing. I have to imagine that even our inept intelligence community can keep track of the terrorists if they all congregate in a well-known place.

I’ll leave the arguing to those more passionate than I though. The more I hear about the situation though, the more I’m drawn to our country’s past and I can’t help but be a little proud of how far we’ve come. It may not seem like a natural time for pride, but compared to our history, those of Middle-eastern decent are getting a pretty good shake. Don’t be naïve, this isn’t an easy time for people who have immigrated to this country from that region, but ask any Japanese American who was alive during World War II if they’d rather get dirty looks at the airport and have protests over where they worship, or if they’d rather get locked up in internment camps and I’m guessing they’ll say the former.

We have a history of hatred and a track record for treating those we hate pretty poorly. The Japanese and some Germans were imprisoned when we hated them. So were the Africans who arguably got the worst of our hate. Of course the Native Americans might argue that point. When the Irish first came to our shores during the Potato Famine we gave them a case to make and the Chinese who came to build our railroads were little more than slaves themselves.

We’re flat out mean to the people du jour who we hate. We always have been. It’s in our blood. We’re good at it. We look at them as less than human because it helps us rationalize them. We call them savages, niggers, micks, the yellow peril, Japs and slant-eyes. We have believed them to be less than human and then we proceed to treat them as such. We’ve put them in chains, given them blankets infected with small pox, we’ve locked them in prisons and placed them in ghettos.

That could have happened after 9/11. In fact, if 9/11 had happened earlier in our history it certainly would have. We’d have locked the “ay-rabs” up in camps. We’d have torn down all of their mosques. But that’s not who we are anymore, at least not all of us. We can’t expect the world to change at the drop of a hat or in the blink of an eye and we can’t cure centuries of ignorance overnight. I’m certainly not arguing that we’ve acted in a Christ-like manner in the way we’ve treated Middle-Easterners but I do think, we’ve treated them less in the way of the devil than our own ancestors would have.

It’s easy to pick sides in this current debate. It’s easy to be mad at one side or the other. It’s easy to be outraged by obvious insensitivity or appalled by the ignorance to our founding principles but when you take a step back and you look at it all from a distance, I think you can’t help but see how times have changed. Tempers are flaring, sides are standing opposed and the argument rages on, but arguments are better than chains, better than prisons, better than viewing a people as sub-human. Because while some would support those very thoughts in a heartbeat most of us would never stand for it.

It’s an interesting point in history. The unenlightened are still loud and garner a great deal of attention in their ignorance and hate, but somewhere along the way, we’ve moved past the days of old. We’ve chosen a new way. It’s far from perfect. We have a long way to go. Make no mistake though, we have come so very far from who we were at our worst.

I went into a convenience store today and there was a WWII veteran at the lottery counter sporting his Navy hat commemorating the ship he served on during the war. He was chatting with the man behind the counter, a man of Middle-eastern heritage. They spoke like they were old friends and maybe they are just that. They weren’t talking about mosques or wars or rights or freedoms. They were talking about their grandchildren. Perhaps the future for those grandchildren isn’t as dim as it looks. Maybe all it takes is a clearer perspective to see that even if we take one step back for every two steps forward, we’re still getting somewhere. Maybe the idea of America isn’t quite dead yet.

Attn: Tony Fucking Dungy

2010-08-20T12:54:00.000-05:00

What I’d like to know is who died and make Tony Dungy into God all of the sudden? Apparently he’s not satisfied with being an analyst on NBC’s Sunday Night Football studio because his name is just about everywhere in the NFL. I didn’t mind so much when he was taking wayward athletes under his wings and trying to instill a bit of class and dignity in them. His work with Michael Vick and others has been admirable. His books have touched many and his mentoring programs have been very successful. By all indications, this is a good man.

There comes that point though when good men cross the line and start to get a little too full of themselves and a little too sanctimonious. Dungy’s latest crusade has me wondering if perhaps he’s at that point? He expressed concern over NY Jets coach Rex Ryan’s use of foul language in practices as shown on HBO’s documentary series Hard Knocks.

Now, in my day, I was called things by coaches that would make sailor’s cringe and that was by coaches who actually liked me, so I have to wonder what sport Tony Dungy was a part of in which curse words offend his delicate sensibilities? Swearing and sports are like peanut butter and chocolate, they just seem to be made for each other and that’s the way it’s been for as long as sports have dominated our culture.

That wasn’t Tony Dungy’s way though. And that’s fine. If he’s a man who chooses not to use curse words then that is his prerogative, but when he starts casting stones at others who do, that’s when I have a problem. Dungy seems to feel that his way is the right way and that other coaches should adopt it. He feels curse words are undignified and uncouth.

Well, I say: Fuck that.

Dungy is a devout Christian, so let me try to explain this to him in a way he can understand. Mr. Dungy, by speaking out against curse words you are sinning. I think you should confess to your preacher before you’re damned to hell for your trespasses, sir. Allow me to explain:

We all get angry. We all get upset. We all emote displeasure, dissatisfaction and anger verbally. We all use certain words for emphasis. We use tone and volume to the same end. It’s a basic human characteristic. No one—except perhaps the British—gets burned by fire and politely observes that it’s quite painful, indeed.

Our speech is what separates us from the animals. Part of that speech; in every language, in ever culture, in every corner of the world, it’s people who stub their toes crying out loudly and angrily and harshly and they express themselves and their great displeasure with having suffered that particular injury. It’s human nature. My point is that while it may be possible to control your emotions in that situation, it’s not likely. Verbalizing your pain and frustration at that point is a very human thing to do. And since we’re all human and none of us perfect, I have to assume that’s okay.

But you don’t like curse words. You’d prefer we cry out “dang it!” instead of “dammit!” You’d prefer “fudge” to “fuck.” And here’s where you become a sinner Mr. Dungy. In every Bible I’ve ever seen it was the first Commandment: “I am the Lord your God, you shall have no other gods besides Me.”

Wait. Follow me here!

So, if we accept that expressing ourselves vocally, our pleasure, our pain, our joy our sorrow is a human thing to do, and God made us human then there must be a reason for that, which means that the base emotion itself is an okay thing. However, by giving certain words more power than others, don’t you, in a way, deify them? If you and I each stub our toe, and you yell “fudge” and I yell “fuck” but we both feel the same pain, the same frustration and are each trying to express the exact same thing, does it really matter what word we choose?

You use fudge, I use fuck. If the emotion in each of our hearts is the same, then it should be wrong, no matter how we choose to express it. I’ve watched you coach football games Mr. Dungy. You remained calm quite a bit, but not always. You got upset. You got angry. You became frustrated. Are those emotions wrong? Are they too undignified and uncouth? Moreover, should someone have called you out every time you spoke tersely to a player? Should someone have told you that your angry stare was not in the best interests of the NFL?

See what I mean about those without sins casting the first stone there, big guy? It boils down to one thing or the other. Either the emotion itself is wrong—that the emoting of any negative feeling is bad and we should never, in any way, express anything but positive sounds, noises and looks; or, you’re picking and choosing certain words that you personally don’t like and giving those words power over others.

Yes. You give words power. Every time you stub your toe and specifically choose to substitute “fudge” while meaning—like I say it—“fuck” you are giving the word “fuck” power. Every time you call someone out for using words that you don’t like, you give them power. And giving a word power is blasphemy. It’s a sin. Christianity is based on Judaism where the only unsayable word was the name of God. Think about that next time before you speak up about other people not using certain words.

As for the idea that the expression of anger or sadness or any other negative emotion is bad, I think any good psychologist will tell you that’s just not true. In fact, it’s much healthier for us to express them and get them out of our systems than it is to hold them inside.

So my question is simple: If the emotion is natural and expressing it cathartic and if no word has more power than any other word, then what’s the big deal? Why is Rex Ryan disgracing the NFL because he swears? Who put you in charge of deciding what people can and can’t—should and shouldn’t say? Who chose you to be spokesman for the language police? And by whose authority does the language police operate?

I respect your right to not use curse words. That’s the American and Christian thing to do. Don’t stand there and be so sanctimonious as to suggest that only your way is the right way. Your choices are yours and they do not make you better than me, Rex Ryan or Don Rickles. Remember, sir: Judge fucking not, lest you be fucking judged.

Doomed to Repeat

2010-08-19T14:04:00.000-05:00

The last U.S. Combat Brigade has left Iraq and…well, it’s been a little anti-climatic. I think of the thousands of people who stopped traffic on Lake Shore Drive and Michigan Avenue here in Chicago to protest the war in Iraq and I wonder where all those people are now? You’d think they’d be…I dunno? Excited? Happy? Triumphant?

But no. Those people have mostly moved on to other causes I suppose. Or, maybe they wised up a bit when their hero the Super O told them what the previous administration did: That you just can’t pick up and leave—that the consequences to that would be worse than the consequences to our staying there.

Americans are a bit spoiled in that we’ve never had war brought to our shores aside from 9/11 and a few isolated incidents during WWII. War is a video game to us, or a movie. That’s our reference point. So, ending a war seems like a simple enough thing to do. Choose a few face saving words of bravery, save that last little child, board the waiting chopper and take off looking back at the war torn land you’re leaving as the credits roll. Done. Right?

Not so.

Back when people were lining the major streets of our cities and the mother of a soldier who was killed in Iraq was camping out just outside the Bush ranch in Texas all people could talk about was how this was a war for oil. And make no mistake, there were people in our president’s ear who had personal financial gain on their minds when they applauded his choice to take war to Iraq, but it was never a war for oil. It was a war for revenge.

The question is who had the revenge right of way? From the point of view of most Americans, we did. They flew planes into the World Trade Center towers and the Pentagon! Of course, they saw it differently. They felt like revenge was their right because 20 years earlier we used them to fight a war against the Russians—a war they won for us and then once it was over, we left them to rot in the war torn wasteland where they won. Sons grew up without fathers. Life was hard. Sure, they could have blamed the enemy—the Russians, but that’s the enemy! The bad guys! They are supposed to be evil!

So, it was their “friends” who they chose to blame. That would be us. And our evil is fact. We used them and left them to suffer the consequences. That didn’t give them the right to do what they did. Attacking civilians is wrong and cowardly, but even that distinction is open to interpretation. During the war in Afghanistan against the Russians, bombs were left that resembled toys so that children would pick them up and be killed. During that war, there was no such thing as a civilian.

In fact, Afghanistan was so thoroughly destroyed that 20 years later when the fatherless sons of that war struck out for vengeance, their country wasn’t recovered enough to fight back against. We needed a figurehead. We needed someone we could fight. Iraq was in up to their necks—but behind the scenes, like the CIA in the war between Afghanistan and Russia. We chose them as our target. They were a public relations target more than anything. Sadaam was someone we could bring down. Oedipus could be satisfied when Georgie Jr. proved to his mommy that he was a bigger man that daddy. There was an actual country there that we could liberate—and they did need liberating.

It was a win-win proposition. The American people, too ignorant of their own history, just wanted some blood. We wanted to believe in WMD’s and all the rest. Of course, the problem was that after Shocked and Awed the hell out of them, beat their army, took their evil leader prisoner and later executed him that our original enemy entered the vacuum to fill the space that the Iraqi government had previously occupied.

We found ourselves fighting the very people we trained to defeat the Russians, on their turf, the very same turf that the USSR couldn’t defeat them on—only it was worse. At least the USSR could leave bombs for kids to set off and target people—military or civilian—indiscriminately. We had to fight our war on television. We had to win hearts and minds. It was a no-win situation.

The political pressure that ensued led to our electing a president who promised to get our troops out of Iraq. It’s taken him a year and a half to do it. And here’s the rub: We’ve left a power vacuum once again. The fledgling Iraqi government is too corrupt and too weak and too divided to stand. It will fail. Power will fall into the hands of the most ruthless and evil. Fear will be their weapon. No American President will do anything about it, because the American people want no part of Iraq and to do so would be political suicide.

And so the fatherless sons of this war will rise up and strike out at our own children. Here’s hoping that before they act, before they take to the streets to protest, that they understand their history and they know the truth of what has transpired.

YES. We ARE All Witnesses.

2010-07-09T11:50:00.001-05:00

I stopped watching NBA games over a decade ago. A league without rules, or more specifically, certain rules for certain players and teams is really no better or interesting for me to watch than the “wrestling” in the WWE. At least the WWE now acknowledges that it is “entertainment” not sport. To me, the NBA is no different. I feel that the league and the officials conspire to market first, stay true the sport—well, that’s got to be 7th or 8th on the list.

With that frame of mind, I didn’t think I’d really care either way about LeBron James’ “Decision” about where he’d be playing the next few years of his career. I honestly hoped that he wasn’t going to come to my home town of Chicago. I get that he’s a superstar, but he’s always rubbed me the wrong way. My rooting interest was for him to remain in Cleveland. I’ve felt bad for them ever since Michael Jordan hit “the shot” over Craig Ehlo. As a fellow Midwesterner, I understand the draw of the home town kid whose made good.

So, with only that casual rooting interest, I was surprised at how deep and visceral my reaction was when the announcement came that Mr. James was taking his game to Long Beach. I had a feeling for him that literally bordered on hatred. Watching such blatant narcissism at the expense of and in the face of a home-town city, which had treated him like the “king” he claimed to be was literally painful.

I’ve heard people talk about how uncomfortable he looked up on that stage, but I have a hard time feeling sorry for him when it was his choice to be there. It’s ridiculous to believe that his decision was made just that morning. James has been a member of the Heat for two years now in all but uniform. How does “King” James choose to tell his loyal “witnesses?” He hides behind some kids from the Boys & Girls Club in a town in Connecticut.

But that wasn’t all. He spoke in third person. And perhaps most cruelly of all, he chose Miami without saying much positive at all about Cleveland. Oh, he pointed out that he played hard for them, he acknowledged all he brought to that team and the city, but all he said about Cleveland or the Cavaliers was that he had much respect for them.

Much respect. So. That’s nice. Huh?

That word has become a joke. Respect. When you respect a city, it’s people and it’s team, you don’t go on television, on an hour-long program glorifying yourself when you know your decision will hurt all those you leave behind. When you respect the fans and the team and the city, even if you do decide to leave, you cancel the show, you release a heartfelt press-release explaining your decision and begging the forgiveness of the people you supposedly respected.

You don’t make a spectacle. You don’t rub in an entire city—an entire state’s face just to appease your own narcissistic needs. Is anyone else tired of celebrities and superstars feeding and fueling their own narcissism in these kinds of spectacles and expecting us to be okay with it simply because they donate the proceeds to some charity? Congratulations Boys & Girls Clubs, you’re whores. And if I was dying of thirst, I’d crawl into the afterlife parched before drinking a Vitamin Water.

Your Nike commercials say it best LeBron. We are all witnesses. We witness not only your play on the court, but the way in which you comport yourself off it. We are not fooled by a pittance given to a charity, we know what this was about. It was all about you. It was one of the most gross and painful to watch displays I’ve ever seen.

And I can’t help but draw parallels. I remember back to when I did watch the NBA and I remember my childhood hero, Michael Jordan. Mr. James will never live up to that mantle. He’ll never reach the standards of excellence set either on or off the court by MJ. As witnessed by his induction speech into the Hall of Fame, Jordan obviously had that same narcissism, but throughout his career, he managed it, he kept it inside. He took challengers as affronts to his supremacy and he dispatched them like a cold-blooded assassin.

By all accounts, James has done nothing but choke in the playoffs. Instead of taking challengers as slights to your supremacy and vanquishing them, James chose to partner with at least one player who is arguably his equal or even his better. I learned all I’ll ever need to know about LeBron James last night. The Air is rare in the echelon where the masters reside and the King will never breath it.

And we’re all witnesses.

LOST: More than ever

2010-05-24T13:15:00.001-05:00

I’m not sure how to feel about last night’s series finale of LOST. Judging by the early scuttlebutt on the interwebs, there are a lot of people out there who are pretty confused about just exactly how they should feel too. The problem is that last night’s episode was amazing. It was a great episode. It gave you all the happy, sad and triumphant moments you wanted and needed as a fan. It was perfect—except for that one pesky little problem.

Don’t confuse that empty feeling in your gut with a sense of LOST being over. That empty feeling is a six year investment with no clear cut payoff. The season that promised to answer all, instead chose to answer little. It’s supposed to be artistic. We’re supposed to be thrilled that we get to choose our own interpretation of it all. I call bullshit. Writing is about making choices and the failure to choose is the sign of a cowardly writer. The writers of LOST failed to choose.

Oh, they made some choices and they even ended things with an important choice. The famed “flash sideways” portions of this season were shown to be a purgatory-like existence where the castaways were not enlightened to the fact that they were dead until they came into contact with a fellow castaway and in a flash got their enlightenment.

The last one on board was Doc Jack, of course. He of little faith refused to give in until he touched the empty coffin of his dearly departed dad Christian Shepherd (yes, Kate…Christian Shepherd, really). Now don’t get me wrong. This was brilliant. It was a great way to end...a season. That’s why it was so satisfying to so many. The problem isn’t with what we got, the problem is with what we didn’t get.

What IS the island? What IS the light? Who put Jacob’s momma in charge of guarding it? Why? WHY???? What difference would it make if the island had sunk into the ocean years ago, before Jacob and Smokey were even born? What was the point of the Dharma Initiative? Why were they brought to the island? What happened to Walt? Why were women unable to have babies on the island for so long—couldn’t Jake and Smoke’s REAL mom have uttered a curse before she croaked to wrap that one up at least?

What irritates me most is the audacity of the writers to come on in the pre-show special and almost foreshadow the fact that they were cowards by suddenly saying that it’s not about the island, it’s about the characters. Oh! Well thank you! The island was just coincidental to the six years of buildup huh? All along, it’s all been about the characters? I call bullshit again.

I don’t disagree that the show was about the characters. I do. However, they made the island a living, breathing thing, they gave it life. They made the island a character in this show and not just a minor character. I’m not sated by a little Anna Lucia cameo to end the show with, I want to know about this character! I want to know why it can jump through time? I want to know about the light that sustained it and needed protecting. It’s all fine and well that the time spent on the island was the ultimate test for Jack and all the others that allowed them to reunite in their own little heaven after they died, but what about the island itself? Islands don’t jump through time! Islands don’t evade detection by the uninvited.

If a LOST fan tries to explain it all away to you today as this having always been a character driven show and tell you that what the island might be is only peripheral and beside the point, slap them in their pretentious faces. They are sheep and were herded into that opinion by the cowardly producers who pulled off an amazing bait and switch last night. And somehow, they got us to take what we didn’t want and think it was the greatest thing since sliced bread—or Dharma peanut butter.

No. Look at last night for what it was my friends, a brilliant and amazing season finale, and a disappointing and cowardly series finale. From one point of view, it was an amazing accomplishment; on the other, it was an unparalleled disaster. For all of the great buzz about last night’s finale that’s out there today, eventually, it’ll come around and people will realize that they were cheated, bamboozled once again, and this time it’s permanent…well, until/unless the movie comes out in a few years.

For six years, LOST has left me and fans around the world, hanging. We were left to hang after each episode and after each season and we loved it because it propelled us to what came next. It’s what gave the series constant new life and energy and made it so unpredictable. They could have chosen to tie it all up and make it all pay off, but they didn’t. They left us hanging again.

They say that its not about the destination, it’s about the journey. Well, the journey way amazing, right up to the very last scene, but the problem is that after over 120 hours of viewing, our journey, it turns out, had no destination. It was just a bunch of aimless wandering. Jack said, “it all matters.” I hate to disagree Doc, but that’s not true. I could have missed an episode or two and it wouldn’t have made a damn bit of difference. It wouldn’t have mattered at all.

In the end, none of it mattered.

Labels

2010-04-21T16:34:00.000-05:00

I always get a kick out of people who are willing to allow themselves to be labeled. As an Aquarian male, I’ve been told that stars predetermined my own anathema to labels but to me it’s just a sign of intelligence to not want to be classified. I can’t think of a single group or label that I identify with completely. I don’t want to be one of you and agree with everything you have to say. I want to pick and choose. I’m a buffet kind of guy.

Politics is a great example of the label phenomenon. Here in the U.S. everyone seems gung-ho to label themselves as a Democrat or a Republican. To me, taking on one of those tags is equivalent to choosing between being labeled as a child molester and a serial killer. Neither choice is a good one and willingly associating yourself with being either one is outright foolish.

Stop. Think. How can one side ALWAYS be right? Does that happen anywhere else in your life? Of course not. In terms of politics though, everyone has to choose a team and in most urban areas the youth tends to start their careers off as Democrats because they see the world in terms of good and bad. They see the world in terms of social issues. From their perspective, it’s hard not to see the Republicans as the evil empire and the Democrats as the peace-loving Rebellion.

Nowhere is this more obvious than on the internet. After the Bush years, Republican hating became sport. Truthfully, some of that anger should have been directed at the Democrats too. If they’d had anyone better than Gore or Kerry, Bush never would have happened. Regardless of that fact though, the term “young Republican” has become something of a joke outside of the rural parts of the country. With a hip, tuned-in, new black President, it’s safe to say that the youth is firmly on the side of the Democrats.

The youth of our country have much less of a problem with gay rights, abortion, bigotry and other social issues. To their credit, they are a tolerant, accepting, loving group of people. To the youth, politics is all about social issues and so, place them firmly in the pockets of those who wear the label of Democrat.

For my part, I’m pretty liberal-minded on social issues too. I don’t understand the religious right. My Jesus was accepting and loving; he sought out those who society mocked, ridiculed and persecuted and made certain they knew there was a place for them in His kingdom. He was pretty specific about us not judging one and other too. That works for me.

So if I’m lined up with them on social issues, why am I not a Democrat? Well, there’s the little problem of fiscal politics. That’s money for those of you who took the short bus hyperlink to this blog post. And after this long-winded, meandering rant that brings me to the point and purpose of this post. I saw in today’s Chicago Sun Times that our governor, a Democrat, wants to start an iTax here in Illinois. An iTax would mean that every download of every song, every album, every podcast, every video and every movie would be subject to a tax. It’s hard to be a member of today’s youth and not notice if all the sudden your iTunes charges start going up.

Now, I’ll skip how colossally stupid it is for a governor to alienate an entire generation that he currently has in his pocket because what I’m interested in is the labels. This seems like a nice little lesson for all of those noobie Democrats, swept up in the fervor of Obamamania about the way Democrats operate from a fiscal perspective. Now without a label of my own when it comes to political parties, I can happily claim to be fiscally conservative even though I’m socially liberal. I don’t want my iTunes taxed. I just discovered the joy of downloading music. Don’t jack my prices up! You’re already getting my on my cigars and my beer!

Still, from a sociological experimentation point of view, a part of me really hopes that this goes through and the iTax is imposed. All of the sudden, the line between good and evil will become awfully blurry for the Bush-hating, gay-loving, healthcare for all bunch. Nothing makes you forget how much you hate the former President like someone taking money from you on a daily basis. It makes hating that person taking your money much easier is what it does.

I wonder, if when this happens, the labels our youth have taken on will change? Will taking candy from the babies turn them against the Democrats? Will their passion for social change outweigh the irritation they experience over money coming from their own pockets?

Sadly, it probably won’t occur to them. In fact, this iTax has already happened in more than a dozen states and the uproar has been—nonexistent. But let this be a lesson to anyone who still believes in a two-party system and to anyone who accepts the label of either Democrat or Republican. By taking on the label, you walk into a restaurant and get whatever they are serving—no more, no less. By choosing a side, you rob yourselves of options. You may be allergic to peas, but if that’s what’s on the menu, that’s what you get.

Is it just me or does that sound awfully un-American? It makes the buffet a much better choice doesn’t it? It makes you wonder how much gray area there really is in EVERY issue? It makes you wonder how much could actually be accomplished if it wasn’t one thing or the other all the time? As I understand it, that’s what America was supposed to be. What happened? Is your label really worth the forfeiture of your choices?

The First Person Narrative Crisis

2010-04-20T15:49:00.001-05:00

For almost a year now, I’ve had the pleasure of reviewing books for both The Sacramento Book Review and the San Francisco Book Review and as is the case with a book reviews, the subject has been newly released books. While I’ve always tried to pay attention to newly released literature, prior to doing these reviews, I often skipped around, reading classics and recommendations from others mixed in with anything new I might find.

Reading almost all new releases now I’ve begun to notice quite a few of the trends in the publishing industry, some good and some bad. The most obvious ones, however, are the bad trends and perhaps the absolute worst trend of them all seems to be one of the most prevalent.

I’m speaking of the rash of first person narratives where the main character is a very thinly veiled view of what the author wishes he or she could be. These writers create characters that are practically superhero in nature. Oh, they have flaws of course but they are the kind of flaws you might tell a prospective interviewer in a job interview. I work too hard! I’m too conscientious. Dammit, I just care too much!

Aside from those “weaknesses” the character is virtually without blemish. They are almost never the supermodel type or the movie hunk because the writer cannot make that connection to themselves honestly. Instead, they are the kind of average that seemingly no person of the opposite sex can resist. Sure, he’s got a beer belly, but the most beautiful woman in every room is somehow drawn to him like a moth to a flame. No, you won’t find her in the pages of Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition but every man wants her and every woman wants to be like her.

Novel after novel comes out reading like bad fan fiction and instead of slowing down, it seems to be gaining steam. This can only mean one thing: You people are buying it! There’s always been a place in the world for trashy literature. There’s nothing wrong with it. We all have our guilty pleasure reads but at least there used to be some standards involved in even trash lit. No more!

I recently reviewed a book where it seemed like not a single page went by where the author didn’t remind us that her main character (who is not her, she’ll swear to it I’m sure) was beautiful, smart, funny, tougher than the guys, wanted by everyone, admired by all and the perfect woman. This writer was so busy trying to convince her audience of the character’s divinity that she completely forgot to include a plot, or a single other character in the book who was more than one-dimensional. It was like the book itself was background on a stage somewhere, meant only to add color to solitary performer giving a soliloquy.

It was the worst of all of these self-indulgent personal fantasies I’ve read to date and the sad part is that the writer has already written two follow up books. Its going to be a series! But that shouldn’t surprise me. The very first book I reviewed for the papers was about a chubby guy who worked as an accountant and became the greatest monster hunter of all time—and of course got the girl as well. The next book in that series is due out any time. At least this particular author thought to include a little plot along with the self-glorification of his alter-ego.

Just like the Twilight saga made frumpy girls cool, these books, one after another, relentlessly expose us to characters whose flaws are actually good qualities that most people aren’t bright enough to see. Those picked last for dodge ball in gym class and those who didn’t get asked to prom are armed with keyboards, no talent and something to prove and the result are these stories where the characters have no arc and the plot exists only to serve the glorification of the main character.

And it’s only getting worse. More talented writers are being skipped over to fuel this trend where hacks with issues get published. I say enough! If you want to work your issues out then find a shrink and pay by the hour like the rest of the world, don’t subject me to your delusions of grandeur. Shame on the publishers for putting this crap out there and shame on you, most of all, for continuing to read it. As long as copies keep flying off the shelves they’ll keep printing more and more of this compost. It’s time to stand up to these sad people. Demand multiple characters with depth and arc throughout the story. Demand a plot that serves more than as scenery for the writer’s self-glorification. Demand some quality in your books, even the trashy ones.

If you don’t, soon enough, self-indulgent, self-serving books like these that exist to build the writer’s self-esteem will be all that’s left to read. I’m not exaggerating. With each month, more and more of these books hit the shelves and they will continue to do so until you say no.

Health Care: Facts Are Fiction

2010-03-22T12:53:00.001-05:00

It’s days like today when we really get to see the full power of the marketing arm of both the Democrat and Republican parties in action. The blogosphere is ablaze with commentary about the passing of Health Care reform and every has the “facts.” No one seems to notice that the facts often contradict each other—or they don’t care. One thing is for sure though, we’ve all been educated to argue our side of the issue.

We are a nation inundated with “talking points.” Go ahead, try to have a reasonable debate with someone about health care today. You won’t get past the opening statements without the person you’re debating rattling off some impressive sounding poll numbers, facts, figures and canned statements that the pundits repeat ad nausea on their respectively biased news stations.

I’ve read blogs that report only 30% of Americans approved of this bill passing. I’ve read some that report that 70% were in favor of it. How can two polls, honestly run, come up with such varied results? The simple answer, of course, is that they can’t. Not if they are run honestly and with integrity.

Throw the poll numbers out. And if you want to win your argument about health care today, simply make people explain the many canned statements they offer you. Even the most passionate people on each side of this issue rarely know the true facts—they know the facts they want to know from the people they want to know them from and that is their idea of truth.

It would be amusing if it weren’t so sad that the people on each side of this issue weren’t such hypocrites. The way this bill was passed is under scrutiny. Those who supported the bill support the method. Those who didn’t—don’t. And when the shoe is on the other feet years from now it’s the conservatives who want to pass something and the liberals who don’t want it done the position on parliamentary procedure will be reversed. Both sides will be hypocrites.

My favorite line ever muttered in a movie was spoken by Sir Alec Guinness in the movie Return of the Jedi in which his character says the most profound thing many of us will ever hear: “…you’ll find that a great many of the truths we cling to depend greatly upon our own point of view.”

Our own point of view? What shapes us? How do we look at the issue? Who do we listen to talk about it? Have we always had health insurance? Have we gone without? Do we have a pre-existing condition? Do we know someone who lost their home and savings trying to pay for care for their child who suffered from a disease that couldn’t have been helped? Are we wealthy? Are we poor? Do we listen to the marketing team from Fox or the marketing team from MSNBC?

What do our parents think? What do our kids think? What do our friends think? What does our spouse think? What does our favorite celebrity say? What was our favorite athlete’s opinion? Who’s book did we read? Who scared us the most?

The fact is that we form our opinions first and then we go out and search for facts to make us right. And the facts are out there. You can twist any number, any statement, any fact you want to prove what you want to believe. This isn’t a debate of the facts. Every blog/article/”news” program you see today is going to list all of their facts and they will paint a picture that makes it seem like your side, your opinion, your perspective, your point of view is right or wrong. You’ll judge those words based, not on the validity of the facts but the way they fit with your own perspective.

The facts that prove you right are right. The facts that prove you wrong were twisted, gathered by biased organizations, improperly collected, given out of context. The problem isn’t that a health care bill passed or didn’t pass, people. It’s that we all know what’s right without having any real information. The problem is that we made up our minds before we even heard the facts. The problem is that we pick and choose sides and argue the talking points of that side like robots.

The problem is that we’re programmed to do so. Where do we turn to get real information from these days? Who is telling the clear unbiased truth? Who is uncorrupted? Who doesn’t have sponsors to answer to; advertising money to obtain? Who doesn’t have a motive? Who isn’t greedy? Argue all you want to today, light up the blogosphere with your facts and opinions. Flame on indignantly at those too foolish to see the facts you were fed and digested so willingly.

You’re silly people to think you understand the issue. You only understand the parts of it they want you to understand. Your opinions aren’t your own. You picked a side and borrowed their proof. You spout it out like you know what it means. You’re a fool. We’re all fools. Liberty died the day news became a way to make a profit. That’s a fact.

The Greatest Con Game of All Time!

2010-02-24T18:10:00.000-06:00

Credit Card reform is finally starting to take effect. Whew! Right? Not really. The credit card is the greatest con in this history of the world. They truly are evil. I, myself, do not have a credit card by my own choice. I have a debit card for convenience and I have a high limit on that card so I can make major purchases if needed, but I will not be one of the fools who falls prey to this legal con game—of course, I still pay for it. We all do.

Think about it: You pay them a fee so you can have the privilege of having their “service.” The stores pay them so that they can have the privilege of having their “service” too. They charge on both ends. If you pay your bills as soon as you get them, you don’t have to pay the ridiculous penalties and interest fees, but you do still get to pay more because the stores, who pay a percentage of your purchase to the credit card companies raise their prices on everything across the board to cover those costs. Meaning? That’s right kids, the privilege to use the card is put upon you again. And worse, because a retailer can’t charge one amount to someone using a card and another to someone paying cash, even those of us who don’t have or use cards have to pay for your privilege.

To encourage you to use your card more, the credit card companies offer incentives, in the form of points which can be redeemed for airline fares, gifts, prizes, bless their hearts they’ll even put money aside for your kid’s college education if you want! Of course, with more credit card usage, they earn more from the retailers and the retailers who see a larger chunk of their bottom line flying out the door raise prices again which means? You are the one paying for your airline fare, your gifts, your prizes, your child’s college education, only you’re paying infinite times more than you would be in a credit care free world where you simply put that money aside.

Want to buy a house? A car? Anything? Well, first we’ll have to take a look at your credit score. Want to take a guess who has the greatest influence over your credit score? If you guessed the credit card companies and the banks that finance them, you are 100% right! So, if you’re late making a payment and they want to add a ridiculous late fee on top of the interest you already pay, they can. Ever try arguing with a credit card company? Don’t. You lose. The outcome is determined before the argument starts. Why? Because they own you. They have the power to financially cripple you.

These are all powers and influences the credit card companies still have. This new “reform” is only ridding the companies of some of their more underhanded ways of messing with the people who pay for their “service,” such as:

* Requires a credit card issuer that raises a cardholder's rate to periodically review and cut the rate if warranted.
* Prohibits card issuers from raising rates on a cardholder in the first year after an account is opened, and requires that promotional rates must last at least six months.
* Bars issuers from charging a fee to pay a credit card debt, whether by mail, telephone or electronic transfer, except for live services to make expedited payments. (didn’t you love this one? For the low, low price of $25 you can pay your bill by phone!)
* Bars issuers from charging over-limit fees unless the cardholder elects to allow the issuer to complete over-limit transactions, and restricts any over-limit fees.
* Requires penalty fees to be reasonable and proportional to the cardholder's omission or violation.
* Requires payments in excess of the minimum to be applied first to the balance with the highest rate of interest.
* Prohibits interest charges on debt paid on time, known as the "double-cycle billing" ban. (ha! Gotta love a “service” that charges interest on ON TIME payments!)
* Requires credit card companies to consider a consumer's ability to pay when issuing cards or increasing credit limits. (Oh no! No more preying on 12 year olds and people on welfare!)
* Requires that cardholders must get 45 days notice of interest rate, fee and finance charge increases. (did I mention that they used to be able to change your interest rate at any time they wanted? For any reason?)
* Requires issuers to provide disclosures to consumers upon card renewal when card terms have changed. (Yeah. They used to just change your terms without you knowing. Isn’t that a nice “service?”)
* Requires that cardholders get information about how much time it would take and the interest cost involved in paying off a card balance if they make only the minimum monthly payments. (If you were ever dumb enough to be a minimum payment person, you deserve your credit hell)
* Requires full disclosure in billing statements of payment due dates and applicable late payment penalties.
* Requires issuers extending credit to consumers under the age of 21 to obtain the signature of a parent, guardian, or other person 21 years or older who will take responsibility for the debt, or proof that the applicant can repay the credit.
* Increases protections for students against aggressive credit card marketing, and increases transparency of affinity arrangements between credit card companies and universities. (Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you that the Credit Card company LOVES to collude with establishments who you THINK are your friend, like the local university!)
* Requires that gift cards are valid for five years.
* Requires the Government Accountability Office study the impact of interchange fees on consumers and merchants.

The changes are all great. They are all long, LONG overdue. Your friendly politicians, both Republican and Democrat have let it go this far. Maybe the politicians were in the pockets of the credit card companies, or maybe…just maybe, they were afraid of how powerful the credit card companies had gotten and were so afraid, in fact, that they refused to call them out.
It’s not coincidence that this reform bill passed or that it did now while the banks are at their weakest. Our government had to wait for this weakening before they could act on this matter. Think about that for a second.

Still. We pay them to have a card. We pay more because we all use cards. We pay interest if we can’t pay off our entire balance on the card. We pay late fees if we don’t pay on time. We overpay for incentives given to us to entice us to use our card more often which means we pay more again. We pay at every turn.

Think about that the next time you pull out your wallet or purse. Think about that when you “earn” miles or rewards. Think about that when gas prices rise. Think about that when you want to buy a home or a car. Think about that every time you complain about the price of any item in the store, any service you receive, think about that as you swipe your card at McDonalds. They’re everywhere—and make no mistake, we belong to them.

Losing My Religion

2010-01-27T18:44:00.002-06:00

You’ll have to excuse me for seeing myself as one of the last reasonable people on Earth but I’m afraid that’s exactly what I am. I’ve come to hate discussing politics because it’s rare I can find someone with an opinion of their own, and not some piece of idiocy they repeat from a diatribe by Olberman on MSN or Beck on FOX.

It’s simply stunning to me how the marketing arms of the two parties have invaded the consciousness of the masses. When you talk politics, the buzzwords, catchphrases and talking points are spouted out like a prayer of the Almighty Church of My Side. Not only have Church and State mingled, mixed, spawned, the opposing sides have become religions unto themselves.

Pundits are preachers and prophets, they get the message to the masses and their word is gospel. Hallelujah! Go in peace to love and serve the party with which you affiliate! Each side is the benevolent, just and righteous deity to its people and the other side every bit a devil from the pits of hell.

Where is the middle ground? How can so few not be polarized by the us or them mentality of these competing congregations? I made a comment today that was a negative comment about our President, Mr. Obama and it draws the ire of the flock from Our Lady of the Left even though the comment itself wasn’t inflammatory. And immediately, I felt the dirty hands of the parishioners from the Fellowship of the Right pulling and patting and petting me, trying to draw me in, to make me one of theirs.

My comment though, was fair and balanced. It was a criticism of Obama that did not undermine him, or demean him. It was simply an opinion. It was followed up by another that was in support of him. The Fellowship of the Right recoiled from me. The people from Our Lady of the Left kept their distance too. They didn’t know what to make of me. I was of both and of neither. Warily, they backed away from me. I must be crazy.

It may seem a silly little thing, but more and more, we are organizing ourselves into two separate groups. We are blue and red, left and right, one or the other. Each side has a strict with us or against us philosophy. Those of us who are in the middle are enemies to both. Does no one recognize the danger of our behavior? In a world where we readily admit there is more gray than black or white—our opinions on governing ourselves are all black, or all white with nothing in between.

The prophets speak nightly of fire and brimstone, of the end times, of how the other side is evil and is trying to manipulate and destroy. They speak of Revelations. They tell you what to think and to fear anything the other side says—they only seek to tempt you with the apple they offer.

They are preparing for a holy war. Each wants to destroy the other. Each is secure in the knowledge that they alone know best, that their way alone will save us. Let us pray: Obama is the devil and he seeks to infect us with the plague of socialism. Let us pray: I am the hope and the truth and the change.

I feel so alone. My only company is common sense, compromise and those who don’t care one way or the other. I look to each side and see the holy warriors firmly entrenched and when they finally do battle, I’ll be the first to go.

The end is neigh. Armageddon is upon us. Pray to your pundit that your side will prevail. I was of the Church of America, but my god died a long time ago. Blessed be the righteous, for they shall inherit the earth.

I don't hate "e." I'm not fond of "u" though.

2010-01-19T18:41:00.000-06:00

Sometimes, it seems like there’s so much going on in the world it’s hard to know where to even begin. I suppose the proper place to begin is with Haiti since there are 200,000 dead, 250,000 wounded and over a million without homes, but Rush Limbaugh assures us this plays right into the Obamaization of American and Pat Robertson chimes in that the death and destruction there is well earned because of alleged devil worship there in the 1200’s all of the sudden it just seems better to dwell on Jay and Conan, or a Republican nude model who’s about to take “the Kennedy Seat” in Massachusetts.

Just when you think the Late Night Wars were over, they start up again in earnest. This time Dave Letterman gets to sit back and watch from the cheap seats while Conan and Jay have at each other—especially since Letterman stands to come out of it all on top. I say, good for Dave. He got screwed out of the Tonight Show when Johnny retired and a little love coming his way is long overdue.

Myself? I’m a Carson loyalist and he wanted Dave to have The Tonight Show so I’ve spent over a decade now boycotting Leno. I don’t watch O’Brien but I approve of him and wanted him to do well. He certainly did Late Night proud after Letterman left. That said, I have a hard time feeling too bad for a guy who just got paid $32 million dollars to take a vacation until September. He’ll come back stronger than ever on FOX or ABC or the pasty white guy channel (PWGC).

It’s funny to watch it all play out though. There may be nothing more entertaining in the world than when comedians get mad at each other. Especially when those comedians have entire staffs of other comedians who help them in their verbal spar sessions with each other. Insult wars are something a guy can truly wrap their heads around. We like to call it Friday night at the bar, we don’t get staffs to assist us and we won’t be YouTubed by millions the next day, but there’s something very real about two guys who aren’t going to fight, trading barbs and insults until one gets shut up.

I have to admit, I didn’t know much about the race for the “Kennedy Seat” in Massachusetts until just recently, but what a joke it’s turned out to be that Teddy Ballgame’s legacy will be to see his seat go to a Republican who has vowed to vote against Obama’s health care plan, spent his formative years taking his clothes off for ladies magazines and apparently drives a truck.

Why? Well because his opponent seems to be from another planet. You do not woo the people of Massachusetts by mistakenly referring to Kurt Schilling—a Red Sawks hero, as a Yankee. You also don’t woo them by claiming that you don’t win elections by shaking hands outside Fenway Park.

Aggravating Sawks Nation in order to win a Senate seat is akin to running for President on the al-Qaeda ticket. Some people are just too stupid to be wasting our oxygen on and how the Democrats settled on her as their candidate is befuddling to say the least.

And that brings us back to Haiti, which has ruled the front pages of newspapers and been the lead story on the newscasts, but there’s a feeling of reluctance to allowing them to do so that accompanies those placements. When 200,000 people die, as a newsperson your hands are pretty much tied. Even if the dead are just Haitians who were living in poverty long before this earthquake hit, they take precedent.

It’s with a wink-wink that we put them first. It’s understood that you can skip to the Entertainment section of the paper and read about the Late Night Feud, or get a drink and some Cheetos while the lead story is on the news and get back in time to find out if anything comical has happened in the Kennedy Seat runoff that day.

Haiti? We text our $10 donation and feel good about ourselves, like we did in 2004 for tsunami relief. Then, as soon as possible we move on to more interesting and scandalous news, forgetting about the aftermath. It makes me think of the quote shown on the screen at the end of the movie Charlie Wilson’s War, which perhaps was meant to educate us as to why people in Afghanistan might hate us so much after helping the Afghans expel the Soviet Army and then leaving them fend for themselves. “These things happened. They were glorious, and they changed the world. Then we fucked up the end game.”

I wonder, in years to come, when young Taiwanese survivors of the tsunami or Haitian survivors of the earthquake grow up, how simple it will be for them to see us as people of zero substance, who help to feel good about ourselves and our giving natures instead of our having a true desire to do continued and sustained good? I wonder if they will feel abandoned after the initial wave of assistance? I wonder if they’ll choose to handle that abandonment like a pair of pissed off comedians, or perhaps with a bit more verve?

Bow? Wow. Wow!

2009-11-16T15:22:00.001-06:00

I have mixed feelings on the subject of President Obama bowing to Japanese Emperor Akihito because while I understand his move as a symbolic one of the U.S. being less egotistical and prideful than we’ve gained a reputation for in recent years and willing to meet others without affectations of superiority, I also can’t help but think of the many World War II veterans, who we just celebrated on Wednesday and what they might think about the action?

First things first, I think it’s important to point out that both Bill Clinton and Richard Nixon bowed to Japanese Emperors. It’s not an unprecedented action from either side of the political spectrum. And President Obama certainly set a precedent when he bowed to Saudi Arabia’s King. Had he not done so in this instance it could have looked very suspicious.

Regardless of the intent or the precedent of other president’s from each party having done it, I still have some issues with our President bowing to anyone. When two people bow to one and other, they show mutual respect. When one person bows to another, they show deference. While an arrogant, smug United States is bad for the world, it’s not as bad as a meek one could be. The message our President should be sending to one and all is that we are willing and ready to meet as equals. Bowing to an individual does not communicate that at all. It is a sign of weakness.

A man as eloquent as President Obama should be able to communicate his desire to meet and speak as equals without the grand symbolic gestures. He should also listen to the people and realize that they are not in favor of him bowing and scarping. Our last administration never admitted a wrong or made an apology—the Change I Believed In promised it would when called for, but so far it has not.

I keep coming back to the veterans of WWII, specifically those who fought in the Pacific. I’ve seen many wonderful documentaries about Japanese and American veterans meeting on bits of land where they fought each other and killed each other’s friends and comrades. They have found peace. They embrace. The forgive one and other. They share a deep and impenetrable bond and it’s an amazing testament to humanity.

Individually, it’s a wonderful thing and something to be celebrated, but in the grander scheme of things can you imagine a day, some sixty-something years in the future when a President of the United States bows to a leader of al-Qaeda? No matter what passes between now and that hypothetical day to establish friendship, don’t you think it would be an insult to those who lost their lives on September 11th, 2001?

Each side has come a long way since Pearl Harbor, and Japan has paid a great price for their actions of December 7th, 1941. I don’t mean to suggest that we shouldn’t be allies, or friends; that we shouldn’t be respectful of each other and the traditions we each hold dear, but a man who has called Hawaii home should never forget what happened there. No matter how mended the fence, or how strongly new ties have been formed, the leader of our nation should be respectful enough of those who died at Pearl Harbor to never bow to office that ordered their deaths.

There are better ways to make friends, Mr. President, than by being symbolically humble. For the sake of those entombed in the harbor, you should apologize and find a better way.

Happy Bears in the News

2009-11-03T14:57:00.001-06:00

Don’t ever let anyone tell you that commas are not important. They are important. And if you happened to go to ESPN.com today and ignored a comma, you might just have one of those “whahuh?” moments just like I did.

I saw this headline:

Gay, Grizzlies unable to reach deal by deadline

I missed the comma.
Images of gay bears bartering for honey, at a frenzied pace, before some negotiating deadline, flooded my mind. It was an odd moment to say the least. So, the next time someone tries to tell you that commas aren’t important, please remind them that the gay grizzlies may disagree.

Invade Canada! Steal Healthcare!

2009-09-29T18:32:00.000-05:00

The problem is that President Obama isn’t doing things the American Way. We the people need to wake him up and properly explain the job to him so he can start correcting his egregious mistakes. Some solutions are so simple that intelligent, Harvard-educated men like him just don’t see them. If he’d gone to Yale and spent some time in the Air National Guard, he’d be much better equipped to deal with this silly little heath care problem that faces our country.

When we didn’t have oil, did we sit on our asses and try to conjure it up by talking? NO! As the old saying goes, crap in one hand and wish in the other, then see which hand gets filled first. Well our President is wishing and wishing and wishing and he needs to start crapping or we’re going to elect Sarah Palin to do our pooping in 2012.

The answer is simple. We don’t have health care available to all of our citizens. Canada does. Solution: Invade Canada and steal their healthcare.

What are they going to do about it? The only resistance we’ll face is a few burly guys with hockey sticks yelling, “eh!” And not only that, but Canadians are far too polite resist us—and for crying out loud, a good portion of the country is French, we haven’t even invaded yet and they’re probably considering surrendering!

Granted, after we steal Canada’s health care, that will leave them with none. And that’s sad, but they’re Canadians, the only time they’ll notice is when they loose a tooth or two playing hockey but honestly, Canadians are like West Virginians in that missing a few teeth just means an elevated status within their borders!

Plus, it solves the whole Iraq problem too! Everyone wants our military out right now! No one cares about how that region will survive after we go. With all the alternative energy possibilities being explored, we really don’t need their oil anymore—so to hell with them! Our military has better things to do! Invade Canada!

Shock and Awe can be replaced with Eh and Aboot! We’ll invade, control the country within 24 hours, take all their health care and it’ll be over! Our exit strategy will be to shake the hands of the defeated Canadians and listen to all their well-wishes and no-hard-feelings speeches.

Granted, most Canadians complain about their healthcare system as well, but I have to think that if we take theirs and add it to ours, that has to be better right? Maybe they’ll be able to make some more, maybe they won’t. As a token of good will and neighborly friendship, we can even give them Detroit, including the Red Wings. It’s not like we use Detroit anymore anyway. They get another Original Six hockey team and we lose all those unemployed auto workers who helped cause this healthcare crisis in the first place! Two birds. One stone! Bam!

It’s time to start making this new president of ours accountable. It’s time to teach him the American Way. We aren’t the beacon on the hill because we wait around and hope things will get better! We take what makes us better from those who are weaker than us and then expect them to be grateful to us for it! And our friend’s to the north are the perfect victims for our current needs.

Sorry Canada. You’re going down. But hey! Detroit!

Memo to Fat NFL D-Linemen

2009-09-21T06:55:00.000-05:00

Week 2 of the NFL season is in the books and there were a lot of good football games to be watched. However, a theme seemed to develop over the day and the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I’d been disturbed by this trend throughout the pre-season and last year as well.

Of course I’m talking about the disturbing trend of fat defensive linemen jumping, prancing, pirouetting and otherwise frolicking after sacking the opposing team’s quarterback. In the Bears game alone this past week, I had to endure the sight of wide-load Defensive Tackle Anthony Adams perform awkward ballet moves at least 3 times—and he didn’t even have any sacks!

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not suggesting that these guys start doing some kind of premeditated dance after making a good play. There is nothing more pretentious and phony than a previously thought-out celebration dance and it’s bad sportsmanship besides. And I’m all for expressing the exuberating feeling of accomplishment at making a good play. It is a game after all! But someone needs to tell the fat guys that there are just some things fat guys should never, ever do.

Chief among these things are skipping, performing spinning turns and doing that ballet move where you take a running leap, bringing one knee up and letting the opposite leg kick out in back of you completely straight—while placing one arm in front and the other in back. Actually, let’s just leave it at the fact that fat guys should not, under any circumstances, perform any maneuver that even closely resembles ballet.

I just don’t think the proper way to celebrate athletic accomplishment for a 350lb man should ever involve doing anything that some women do while wearing tutus. Call me old-fashioned, but I think a fist pump or a Hulk Hogan muscle pose works just fine with the added benefit of not appearing effeminate to the meathead opponents across the field who want to rip your head off.

Fat guys dancing in the NFL have simply gotten out of control. Retired NFL fat guy Warren Sapp goes on the Dancing with the Stars and all of the sudden each and every one of these Beluga’s is channeling his inner Baryshnikov! It’s got to stop! It’s just not fair to those of us watching to be subjected to this! Aside from Rerun on What’s Happening, America does not want or need to see fat men dance. It’s not pretty. If I want to watch that kind of undulating jiggle, I’ll make Jell-o!

It simply has to stop. It has to stop now. NFL commissioner Roger Goodell needs to step in and make a rule change. Fifteen-yard penalties should be assessed for Unnecessary use of Blubber. The NFL in recent seasons has gone out of it’s way to protect the health and long-term wellbeing of its players, but how about a little love for the fans now? My eyes will never be the same again! The image of that fat man flying through the air like Tinkerbelle her own damn self will haunt me at least the rest of this week and potentially the rest of this season.

Enough is enough. We all have our limitations in life. It’s nice that those fat guys can stand up and be role models for the rest of us who are chubularly challenged and show us that even fat guys can be athletes. They give us hope. But we’ll never be Olympic divers, we’ll never sit in coach, we’re not meant to try bungee jumping and under no circumstances, should we ever prance like ballerinas—especially not after grabbing another sweaty man forcefully, hugging him and jumping on top of him (not that there’s anything wrong with that).

Dear Mike...

2009-09-17T06:40:00.000-05:00

This is the email I sent my House Representative, Mike Quigley, today:

Sir,

Please explain to me why yesterday, instead of working to fix our economy, dealing with the two wars we're fighting and figuring out a fair and all-encompassing health care system for our country, the House of Representatives spent their time playing party games?

Why is rebuking Joe Wilson more important than working to help your constituents? Is your party more important to you than us? If this is how you choose to spend your time, regardless of the politics of your next opponent, I think I would prefer them over you.

Nothing will ever get accomplished in Washington DC while petty party games are more important to you than the betterment of those whom you serve. Is your goal to serve us and better our lives sir, or is it to keep getting re-elected, take your paychecks and your amazing health care benefits and never actually DO anything?

I'm extremely disappointed in how the House spent it's time yesterday. I'm disappointed in you. I'm tired of party loyalty superseding loyalty to the people who elect you. You serve at our pleasure sir. It is my deep regret that so many of those whose pleasure you serve at are sheep who don't bother to demand better of you. It is my deep regret that you don't demand better of yourself and your peers.

I voted for you. Ultimately, the responsibility for your actions is my own. So, I'm disappointed in myself too. Through your actions yesterday, I let my country down, because I'm responsible for the seat you hold.

I certainly hope you choose to make me proud from this point forward. I hope that when your peers seek to play games and waste time, you will be vocal and loud and remind them that it is imperative to stay on target, that petty bickering must be put aside. I hope you remind your peers that back home in Chicago, people are losing jobs, people are going without adequate health care, people's sons and daughters are dying on foreign soil.

As the person who represents me in our government, that is my expectation for you. That is the charge I give you. When your peers go astray, I want to see Mike Quigley's name rebuking them for wasting time. I want to everyone to know that my representative will not sit idly by and allow such pettiness to take precedence over the issues. Every time something stupid like a rebuke comes up, I want to see your name in print calling out your peers for their foolishness. I want to hear the sound bytes of you standing up to them--even your own party--shaming them for putting party pride ahead of the people whom they represent.

If you want my vote again sir, that is the path to getting it. I have higher expectations for you in the future. I do hope you won't let me down.

You can go here, if you want to write your own.

34

2009-09-16T18:47:00.000-05:00

What do you do when the right thing to do, conflicts with…the right thing to do? This is the dilemma now faced by the Chicago Park District, the Chicago Bears and family of former Bears great Walter Payton. At first, when you hear the idea, it seems like a no-brainer. The Payton Family wishes to have a statue which is currently being sculpted, just outside of historic Soldier Field where Walter Payton spoiled and delighted Bears fans for years.

However, the Park District, which owns Soldier Field, has rebuffed the Payton’s and their supporters. They have done so respectfully, and regretfully—offering to place the statue in any other CPD park, but not at Soldier Field. The problem is that Soldier Field and the park-owned property around it, were dedicated to the memory of our nation’s soldiers. Bears legends like Dick Butkus, Mike Ditka, Gayle Sayers and George Halas do not have statues outside of Soldier Field for this very reason. There are places commemorating their achievements in the various concourses inside the stadium, but the field, and the park area around the stadium are expressly meant to be a memorial to veterans.

It’s easy to see each side of this issue. That Payton deserves a statue is beyond argument. He does. That it should be at Soldier Field seems to be the fitting location for such a monument. However, if that statue became the focal point for visitors to the stadium, which it surely would, then wouldn’t that be a bit of an insult to the Soldiers, Marines, Airmen, Seamen and Guardsmen to whom this stadium has been dedicated? Is it right to honor one at the risk of diminishing the honor of many others?

It would be sad to see the statue of Payton go up anywhere else. It would be sad to diminish, in any way, the sacrifices made by those who have honorably served our country. Payton is not a veteran. If he was, perhaps this would be a bit easier. Still, to see his statue at another park, or any other place in Chicago just wouldn’t seem right. Like Michael Jordan’s statue at the United Center, Payton’s statue belongs at the place the Bears call their home. It’s the fitting place.

And so the only solution that seems obvious is this: The Field Museum of Natural History is the neighbor of Soldier Field. Why not place the statue at the outermost limits of the Field Museum property, where fans trekking to Soldier Field will still be able to stop and admire the statue, while the ground that is sacred in it’s dedication to our veteran’s goes untouched? Certainly, Walter Payton is an important piece of Chicago history and in the history of our beloved Bears. He deserves to be placed near the place where he embodied the hard-working, never-quitting attitude of our blue collar city.

Payton’s statue deserves to overlook the place of his triumphs and conquests. Those to whom the stadium was dedicated deserve their respect and admiration. Compromise is the solution. The answer is simple. Time to step up and do the right thing—for both parties, who each, in their own way, are right and just and deserving.

23

2009-09-12T13:24:00.001-05:00

Two of my childhood heroes wore the number 23 on their uniforms. One of them was Ryne Sandberg of the Cubs. One was Michael Jordan of the Bulls. Ryno went into the baseball Hall of Fame a couple years back. MJ went into the basketball HOF last night. Ryno’s speech inspired, thrilled and pleased me. MJ’s left me feeling something I’d never felt for him before: pity.

That Michael Jordan is the best player to ever play the game is truly beyond argument. Just like no one will ever replace Babe Ruth as the titan of baseball, Michael Jordan climbed every mountain and swam every sea in a career that set him apart and above all others. He was the best that ever was and the best that ever will be. He proved that to us time and again. His legacy is safe and permanent.

He took the stage for his speech last night and spoke like perhaps he was the only one who wasn’t sure of that—the only one who didn’t know. Instead of showing the class and dignity that earned him global respect and admiration, he was petty and small in his words. His goal was clear: To remind the conquered of his place above them.

His speech was less a celebration that it was a reminder of what didn’t need to be said. His teammates barely received a mention. MJ was too focused on his enemies. Instead of spending time thanking and praising his own coaches, he spent time ridiculing those who thought they could stop him. Instead of thanking and praising his own teammates, he tweaked those he consistently defeated. Throughout his career he seemed—at least publically—to win with grace and dignity. On this night, he celebrated this victory with classlessness and prideful taunts.

It was always known that MJ talked trash on the court. Those who have played basketball know that’s simply part of the game. They also know that it’s put up or shut up. You have to earn the right to talk trash. Your words are empty unless you can back them up. The saddest part about this night was that Jordan, too old to back up his words, still defiantly acted like he could. Time stole from him the ability to do so. His speech was bitter. It wasn’t enough that in his prime, he was the best that ever was—it was all too evident that the fact that he couldn’t walk out on the floor and be the best today, even at this age, cuts him deeply.

You’d like the think that safe in the knowledge that you conquered all who challenged you, that you rose above all others to be the very best would bring with it a sense of peace, a bit of humility. At the very top of the mountain, you could look down on the world without looking down on them if you choose. It simply wasn’t to be. This was a night for reminding those not as great of their inferiority. It wasn’t enough to go into the Hall of Fame as the best, MJ needed to remind everyone else that they were not. It was sad.

He said that he learned something new about each of the people enshrined before him and that he wanted to share something new about himself as well. He wanted to share where his competitive nature came from. He wanted to share with us the logs that built his fire. We were there Mike. We watched each person you chose to call out last night, when they turned themselves into a log you burned to fuel your obsession. You humbled them, each in turn.

John Stockton and Jerry Sloan went into the HOF with you last night, each without an NBA Championship. Each, without a championship because you stood in their way. How classless it was of you to remind them of their failure in an effort to point out your own greatness.

When you’re the best that ever was, you don’t need to tell people. You don’t need to remind them. You don’t need to point it out. I wish someone had told MJ before he took the stage. His speech made it seem like he still felt a need to prove it. Sad, because his own doubt can only work against him.

When Ryne Sandberg went into the Hall of Fame a few years back, he did something he rarely did during his career. He spoke eloquently. His speech was not about himself and about glory, it was about the game, about the sanctity of that game. He bravely said what needed to be said. My heroes remain my heroes. I’m old enough now to know that even heroes are full of weakness. I just wish the hero that was the best of all time, could have gone in with as much dignity and class as the hero who was not.

National Where Were You Day.

2009-09-11T06:54:00.000-05:00

Happy “Where Were You Day!” That’s what this is, isn’t it? This is the day of the year when we nod our heads solemnly, when we frown, when we tell each other we can’t believe it’s been eight whole years—how it seems like only yesterday—and then we perform the custom of his new holiday: We trade stories about where we were when those terrorist planes flew into the World Trade Center, the Pentagon and crashed in a Pennsylvanian field (if we remember that there were more than the planes that crashed into the WTC that is).

This is the Kennedy moment for my generation, and a new one to add to the collection of those who came before. This is the moment frozen in time and that is the topic of conversation today. The protocol is simple. You look sad, you express disbelief in the time that’s passed, you share your personal experience—where you were when you heard, who you know who knew someone who knew someone who died, or was a hero. Of course there are people who truly were personally affected eight years ago today, but they probably aren’t treating today like an opportunity to tell stories unless it’s for catharsis sake.

For the rest of us though, it’s how we mark the day. It assuages our instinct of needing to show some kind of solemnity. Bad things happened on this date in history. We survived it. So it’s incumbent upon us to be respectful of those who didn’t. Strange, that we decide to do so by marking our own moment in time.

Eight years later, I’m afraid it’s the only personal connection most of us have to the event. It’s been a long time since any of us have sent books and magazines to soldiers. It’s been a long time since we’ve flown our yellow ribbons in support of troops that still fight—regardless of whether or not you believe in the reasons they do. Gone are the feelings of unity and oneness that prevailed for ever-so brief a time. We are every bit as divided a nation as we were on September 10, 2001—if not more so.

Funny, how it doesn’t embarrass anyone. Funny, how so many promises made in vain and left unkept not remembered at all today. Funny, how when those things are brought up, we choose to blame leaders we elected—making hasty and easy scapegoats instead of taking any personal responsibility. Funny, how today has become about me-me-me. This is where I was when the world changed!

Someone’s mother was in a plane that crashed. Someone’s father was in the building it crashed into. Someone’s son was a fireman. Someone’s daughter was a cop. They rushed in, while others rushed out. When was the last time anyone donated to help the forgotten families? Not really the in-vogue charity anymore, is it? They still sing God Bless America before baseball games—I wonder if anyone thinks about the reason they started doing so?
I was in my car, on my way to work. I heard about it on the radio. I guess that’s important. I guess my role in it all means something. When you ask me, I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you that I’ll never forget where I was, as long as I live.

I’d tell you what that day means to me too if you bothered to ask, but you won’t. No one does. Not anymore. It’s for the history books to sort out now. The ones we write today will paint a valiant picture of those of us who survived the day. Though, when others look back, when those who write the history are removed from it far enough to see it objectively, I wonder if they’ll ask: How did the day that changed everything, really change anything at all?

Sacramento Book Review

2009-09-07T19:45:00.003-05:00

Okay, for those of you who may be interested, I'm going to be doing some freelance book reviews for the Sacramento Book Review and the San Francisco Book Review. My first two reviews appeared in the September issues. Here are links to the reviews on the website:

A Princess of Landover by Terry Brooks

Monster Hunter International by Larry Correia

Enjoy!

Whale Wars Season 2

2009-08-24T18:45:00.000-05:00

Mercifully, the second season of the Animal Planet program Whale Wars has come to an end without anyone dying, despite the great efforts of eco-terrorist Paul Watson, the captain of the Sea Shepherd ship the Steve Irwin.

This show has been a frequent topic for discussion here and like with a train wreck, I just can’t seem to stop myself from watching. As always, I’ll start with the obvious. I fully support legitimate operations like Greenpeace who work within the law to do their part against illegal whaling. I am anti-whaling. I cannot, however, condone what Paul Watson and his Sea Shepherds do. How he continually gets these people to drink the Kool-aid is beyond me.

Sea Shepherd, an organization started when Watson was kicked out of Greenpeace, uses non-peaceful tactics to try to accomplish the goal of ending whaling by Japanese whalers in the Arctic. And let’s be honest here, the Japanese whalers exploit a loophole in the laws that outlaw whaling in order to kill, sell and eat an endangered species. What they do is wrong. But, as my dear mommy used to tell me when I was a boy, two wrongs don’t make a right and it seems that’s what the Sea Shepherds ignore. They don’t fight the system, they fight the source and they use tactics that cannot be called anything but terrorist in nature.

The arrogance, idiocy and delusions of grandeur that “captain” Paul Watson constantly displays are astounding. His lack of knowledge of basic seamanship and his ship’s capabilities leave you with open mouth and a sore neck from repeatedly shaking your head. Watson almost seems driven to get himself or someone from his crew killed in what his eyes, would be a great publicity move.

So it is that Season 2 begins and after the pestering that Watson’s crew accomplished in the previous year and the publicity it got, the Japanese whalers stepped their game up in defending their ships. Sadly, knowing full well what those evil people were doing, I couldn’t help but root for them as they—with intelligence, strategic planning and well thought out defenses—constantly repelled the—wing it and hope for the best—strategies of the Sea Shepherd crew.

It was like watching Star Wars and rooting for the Empire, but it couldn’t be helped. The Japanese whalers equipped themselves with anti-pirate/terrorist devices like water cannons, protective netting and LRAD systems, which are acoustic weapons that attack a person’s nervous system and often render them unable to move or properly function. The Sea Shepherds, not anticipating any of this and not being prepared for or intelligent enough to counter the strategies, spent the entire season floundering.

Instead of creating sympathy for his cause and helping the whales, Watson succeeds only in almost getting him and his crew killed or hurt. He is such a buffoon and so obviously overmatched in tactics and seamanship that he only succeeds at being laughed at and not taken seriously.

Finally, frustrated failure after failure and the seemingly mocking way that the Japanese whalers start killing and processing whales right before his eyes, with reckless abandon and zero regard for the safety of his crew, Watson rams one of the Japanese vessels and sustains a hull breach that fortunately for him, was above his water line or he and his crew would now be dead and frozen in the frigid waters.

I won’t lie, I hope the charges filed against him for ramming the Japanese ship don’t stick because I certainly want to see a third season of this show. Of course it would be much more safe for the Kool-aid-drinking crew, Watson himself and the Japanese fleet if he was tried and convicted.

It’s nice to have something you believe in so strongly that you’re prepared to die for it. Just ask al-Qaeda. I just can’t help but wonder how much more trouble the Sea Shepherds could have caused by using all the money it takes to make these recapture your youth, pirate, eco-terrorist adventures and spent it on changing the laws and policies of the countries involved?

Be prepared. Sooner or later Watson is going to get someone killed. It’s going to be big news when he does. He’ll be smiling behind his crocodile tears though, because this fanatical man is counting on that death. There’s a big difference between being prepared to die for something you believe in, and seeking that death out. And like a train wreck—or a ship crash—I just can’t look away.

Let God. Let Go.

2009-08-20T18:26:00.000-05:00

This morning, Scotland released the terminally ill man who was convicted and serving a life sentence for the death of 270 innocent people in the 1988 bombing of a Pan-American flight that crashed in Lockerbie. Abdel Basset al-Megrahi is a free man and he will return to his native Libya where he is expected to die in less than three months.

Scottish Justice Secretary Kenny MacAskill, the man responsible for his release noted that al-Megrahi had not shown compassion to his victims but that he was motivated by Scottish values to show mercy.

My first reaction was one of outrage. Many of the passengers on that plane were American college students flying home to New York for Christmas. This man obviously deserves to die, not comfortably, treated like a hero by his fellow countrymen, but in a cold, hard, hospital prison. This man doesn’t deserve our compassion.

Theories are already abound regarding the “real” reasons why al-Megrahi was released, most involving the interests of British Petroleum in Libya and Moammar Gadhafi’s hard lobby for his release. Many see this as nothing more than a wheel greasing gesture. MacAskill explains it a bit differently though. He says, “Some hurts can never heal, some scars can never fade. Those who have been bereaved cannot be expected to forget, let alone forgive... However, Mr. al-Megrahi now faces a sentence imposed by a higher power."

It was that last sentence that turned me. Or, at least, made me step back and face my hypocrisy for a moment. I’m still not sure I’m turned. I’m not convinced the right thing is being done, but I also don’t know that mercy, even on the unrepentant can be so easily condemned, at least not by a Christian man like myself.

It’s so easy to hate someone who, in the name of another god, mercilessly killed so many innocents. It’s easy to pass my judgment on him. It’s easy to want him dead or for him to suffer until he dies. It’s easy to hate the man who released him. It’s easy to feel anger and resentment, knowing that this murderer will go home to a country that will treat him like a king for his last few months of life. Those emotions, anger, hatred, resentment, they are all easy and quick and they feel so right.

They are also contrary to every single Christian teaching. It is the Old Testament that teaches and eye for an eye. The New Testament teaches us to turn the other cheek, to judge not lest we be judged. It teaches us to have mercy, to show compassion. “Blessed are the merciful; for they shall be shown mercy.”

How does one who professes to be a Christian stand opposed to an act of mercy? This man will die in three months or less. Before that death, he has experienced the mercy that he did not have for others. Whether he appreciates it or not, he has experienced that which his life has obviously been devoid of—mercy, compassion, love, the very pillars of the Christian Faith. How can that be wrong?

Of course, it’s naïve to think for a moment that mercy, compassion and love are the real reasons for this release. With BP having such a large interest in Libyan oil and Gadhafi lobbying so hard for his release, it’s very hard to see this as anything other than an act of appeasement for financial gain. But if you put that obvious factor aside, can we truly be outraged over mercy and if we are, what does that say about us?

I’ll admit. I struggle against my faith here. The very idea of this murderer receiving a heroes greeting by his people, being able to die in peace and comfort in his home land and getting to do so without ever having shown remorse for his actions simply boils my blood. I want him to suffer. I want him to hurt. When he breaths his last and faces his Creator, I want him to do so alone and afraid. What does that say about me?

There is another Beatitude, this one about justice and I’d be lying if I said that in this case, I felt justice was being served. That makes me wonder if I understand the concept of justice as it was meant though. I think about what I believe and how my Lord suffered for me, how He endured pain and hatred, anger, resentment and even death when, had He chosen to, His justice could have been swift and powerful and unyielding. He chose mercy instead.It makes me feel like a hypocrite. Politics and reasons beneath the surface aside, how can mercy ever be wrong? How can a believer ever question mercy? It’s not easy. It’s not supposed to be. Let God. Let go.

Use Your Illusion

2009-08-19T06:42:00.000-05:00

Change, as President Obama is finding out, is just an illusion in a two-party political system. It’s especially an illusion in a two party political system where most of the elected officials are representing various lobbyists and special interest groups instead of their constituency. The honeymoon is over for Obama and he’s learning that the platform he ran on and is trying to implement is a pipedream.

On one hand he has the Republicans. In the absence of a single, intelligent, well-spoken, sensible spokesperson to stand as the probable candidate to run against Obama in 2012, they’ve chosen the tried and true Republican tactic of making the people afraid. The theory is that if they can make the people fearful enough, it won’t matter who they trot out in 2012, that person will have a chance.

Fear Socialism! Fear neo-Nazism! Fear loss of the Bill of Rights! Fear the Mexicans! Fear the terrorists! Just make sure you’re very, very afraid! Because if there is one thing we’ve learned in our history, turning our country into a socialist, neo-nazi, Mexican utopia can happen in the blink of an eye. Our government is famous for making quick changes right?

But that’s how they make it seem. I’ve yet to hear a good argument about how socialized healthcare can be bad when socialized education is an ideal in terms of the use of our tax dollars. Government run education was something all of our founding fathers believed in and something we support without even thinking about it today. Why is our health less important than our intelligence?

Worse than the Republicans though are Obama’s fellow Democrats. Welcome to reality President Obama. Now that all the hangers on have gotten a good sniff and browned their noses up sufficiently, your own peeps are leaving you hang out to dry. It was naïve and foolish to think that these people, so many of them, not unlike their Republican counterparts, in the pockets of the big insurance companies would rally behind you.

You have to give Obama credit for trying to do the very things he promised he would during the election. He’s trying to implement the very platform on which he ran. I think this crazy strategy has fooled his peers. It was all fine and well to say the things he needed to say to win the election, but to actually go through with them? Who will pay for the Senator’s trips to the Bahamas if not the healthcare lobby? Who will slip the House members free Viagra? It was one thing to stand proudly next to him while he was talking about healthcare reform on the campaign trail, but it’s a whole different thing now that they’ve found out he really meant that stuff!

And in typical Democrat Party fashion, the in-fighting has begun. Give the Republican’s credit, they can at least stay on point and to a man, spew out the pre-approved buzz words and catch phrases the powers that be instruct them to use. The Democrats are all over the place. The Dems have gotten so used to just talking about change that they have no idea how to solidify and actually make it happen.

And this is where the problem becomes a little more obvious. Our country is being run, not by the three branches of government, created to check and balance one and other. Our country is being run by two petulant groups who struggle for power over one and other. It’s a very American idea to stand opposed, to conquer an opponent, and that very struggle has become what our political system is at it’s very core. The two-party political system may be the most un-American thing—EVER.

I fail to understand how someone can align themselves, unquestionably in all matters with one team or the other. I fail to understand how we the people can pick and choose teams like our lives are a fantasy football league. How can there ever be change in a system that fights against independent thought? We have two teams. One is the “You’re Either With Us, or Against Us Team.” The other is the “Me, Me, Me Team.” In every area of life, business, personal, financial, people work together and make compromises for the greater benefit. In politics, we just pick sides and fight.

Sometimes one side gets an upper hand and steer the ship back their way. Sometimes the other side steers it back. No progress is made because progress is the enemy. It doesn’t matter what you think about government-run healthcare, any person of even moderate intelligence can see that our healthcare system is broken. Any person of even moderate intelligence can see that money is being squandered, wasted, hoarded and stolen in the current system.

Does American stand up, show the spirit of our founders and work together to fix the problem? No. We fight about it. There is no talk of compromise. There is fear and in-fighting and foolishness and nothing gets fixed. How can we maintain that we live in the greatest country in the world if we can’t offer our people the opportunity to get necessary medical treatment? Regardless of what you believe the answer is, how can we sleep at night knowing that kids will die while we sleep because their parents couldn’t afford to get them treated?

How great can a country be when we’re more concerned with being right than we are with fixing the things that are wrong? If you judge a team by it’s weakest link, how can we maintain that we are strong? How can we be proud of our country when our health care for the poor is no different than that of a third world country? How does the American dream live when small businesses are unable to operate because they cannot offer health insurance to employees and for themselves?

How are we anything but sheep when we line up on one side or the other and refuse to budge? We the people suffer. We have the power to shake things up, but we the sheep are too foolish to use it. Our country gets weaker and weaker and we do nothing to stop it because we’d rather be right than make it better. If the people we’ve elected are unable or unwilling to make our lives better, then we need to remove each and every one of them. Screw partisan voting—we need vote based on results. We need to mandate the betterment of our country to our politicians. They need to know that they can either work together to make things better or we’ll try someone else next time. We need to let them know we won’t forget their failures.

They’ll never budge from party lines unless we make them. But we won’t. We’re sheep. We tune into one cable new network or the other. We repeat the things we’re told there. We repeat the propaganda we learn. Our side is right. The other side is out to screw us. We stand opposed. Nothing gets done. Children die. Politicians get rich. The very perpetrators of the broken health care system get rich. A hard-working person who got laid off and couldn’t afford health care dies and sends his family into debt because they can’t pay his hospital bills. That is his legacy. How is that any less murder than abortion?

Change requires action. Standing opposed means inaction. Working together is the solution. They won’t do it unless we make them. So the American dream will die a little more today and a little more tomorrow and we’ll wonder why things aren’t as good as they used to be. Democrats. Republicans. Neither side is ever going to win. And we will never move forward and be all that we can be unless they learn to stop fighting and start working together. Change is illusion and the American Dream is becoming one.

King Prince of Pop?

2009-08-08T19:55:00.001-05:00

So. Before he died, Michael Jackson was the King of Pop. Now that he's dead, does that mean Prince is now the King and if so, who becomes the Prince?

And since we've always called Prince, Prince (except when we called him "The Artist Formerly Known As Prince" when he was that symbol for a while) what will his name be now? Will he be King Prince? And if so, does that mean he's his own father as well as that father's son? And if he is King Prince does that mean whomever becomes the new Prince has to be Prince Prince?

And where does Will Smith fit into all of this? He was, after all, the Fresh Prince. Obviously, being the Prince of Fresh is not the same as being the Prince of Pop, but I suspect that Pop and Fresh (in addition to being the name of the Pillsbury Dough Boy) are at least close to one and other in the land of Hip, right? So if the kingdom of pop doesn't have a new prince does the Fresh Prince become the Prince of Pop to assure that there is a royal to ascend to the throne should something happen to the King Prince of Pop?

It's all just very confusing and I wish the media would spend a little more time covering this part of the story because I think we have the right to know!

Thou Shalt Not Email Me!

2009-08-05T06:51:00.000-05:00

You know what pisses me off? These people who send emails where the signature at the bottom says something like: Please consider the environment before printing this email!

What they don’t tell you is that they sent the email from their air-conditioned office, the one they got to by driving their huge S.U.V. They don’t recycle or use energy saving light bulbs, but they have no problem telling me to save a tree by not printing out their damn email?

I’m always tempted to write back: But I want to hang your inspirational words up so everyone can see them and be enriched by the genius that is you! P.S. Yes, your order will ship on schedule!

Who are these people to condescendingly “remind” me that I should be environmentally conscious? Why can’t these do-gooder greenies save the world with their bumper stickers like all the rest of their friends?

So, since I can’t keep my job if I ridicule and offend the customers, I have a policy and I think everyone should adopt it. Any time you get an email that tries to guilt you into not printing it out—print it out for the sole purpose of making a paper airplane.

People just don’t make enough paper airplanes anymore.

But the enviro-emailers aren’t the worst. While I’m not a fan, I’d rather deal with them than the self-righteous religious nut jobs who feel the need to end their business emails with scripture passage quotations.

The Lord is your shepherd, you shall not want? That’s great. How nice for you! Guess you shall not want a reply then because my religious beliefs are my personal business and I don’t need you cramming yours down my throat every time you click send!

Where do these people get the nerve anyway? Let’s say for just the tiniest of moments that I’m not really a religious person. I get an email at work from some schmuck sitting behind a desk at some other company. It includes some scripture passage. Does he really think I’m going to read it, be surrounded by some heavenly light, have angels fly out of my ass and start screaming hallelujah!?!?!?

What is the point? You’re not going to convert someone at the bottom of an email. You’re not going to save anyone’s soul. In fact, all you do is form some kind of inclusive club with those who believe what you do, and make everyone else feel excluded. I’m no Harvard MBA but I’m pretty sure that’s bad for business.

Once again, I had to come up with a personal policy to combat these religious zealots. I choose to do evil. Every time I receive an email with some religious babble in the signature line, I retaliate by putting a little wickedness into the world. I steal a co-workers stapler. I fart in an elevator. I put all the toilet paper in the bathroom just out of the reach of short people.

Nothing major. Just enough to make people shake their heads and grumble. It’s my only defense.

I don’t begrudge anyone their personal beliefs. If you’re religious, that’s great. Frame the Ten Commandments and hang them up on your cube wall. If you’re an environmentalist, that’s super. Plaster your Prius with militant environmentalist thoughts and ideas. Just don’t force me to read them at work huh?

Happy Birthday Mr. President!

2009-08-04T12:40:00.002-05:00

Where were you 48 years ago today? No. Seriously, where were you 48 years ago today? I know you keep throwing people off track by letting them think you may have been born in Kenya, but I know the truth. You're...

Canadian, eh?

The Canadians are coming! The Canadians are coming! God help us all the Canadians are coming!!!!! Impeach Obama now or we'll all be forced to care about hockey!!!

For I was hungry...

2009-07-23T19:15:00.001-05:00

I'm a giver. I give. As long as you don’t hijack me at the register and guilt me into donating to your cause, as long as I don’t feel manipulated into donating, you can count on a buck or two from me. If your kids are selling lemonade, I’ll never pass them up. If your selling candy so your team can afford to take a trip to play in some tournament, I’ll get my sugar fix from you. If you’re collecting for Miseracordia or Firemen’s Charity or whatever on the street corner, I’m happy to help.

So I was reaching for a dollar bill in the center counsel of my car today when I read the name of the charity the girl was collecting for and I stopped. PLEASE HELP OUR CHRISTIAN MISSON TO AFRICA. Hmmm. I closed the hatch, left the dollar bill where it was and politely shook my head no. Sad, considering I’m a Christian huh?

That’s the problem though. These people are going to go out into the world and do “good” in the name of Christians. Only I don’t trust those people. They hijacked my faith. In fairness, not all of them have. Maybe it’s even fair to say that most Christians are still good, but it seems like the loudest, most visible, most vocal ones give the rest of us a bad name. I didn’t donate because I wasn’t sure which kind these were—would they make me proud or make me ashamed of them?

On their mission, will they teach love forgiveness and compassion or judgment, self-righteousness and intolerance? Will they be so backward thinking that they refuse to acknowledge science? Will they insist that dinosaurs walked the Earth 3,000 years ago to accommodate their biblical timeline? Or will they understand that science is the greatest proof of God’s existence? Will they embrace the fact that God is more than a book which was never meant to be taken literally in every single instance?

I was at a stop light when this all happened. I only had a few seconds to make up my mind. My typical, usual, normal reaction is just to give. I can always spare a buck or some spare change. I certainly could have in this instance too. And either way, my dollar isn’t going to make much difference. It’s just a dollar. It’s just spare change. My little stand doesn’t really mean much.

But I’ve always believed that the way you change the world is by not letting the world change you. And today, I wonder, did change the world by not giving without knowing exactly what those people believed in, stood for and represented, or did I let the world change me by not doing something that normally comes natural? I’m not sure. What I do know is that I have a growing resentment for many of those who fall under the title of Christian. I find myself apologizing for them, disassociating from them, distancing myself from that title.

How sad. But true; And now I want a new title. When I stand up to be counted, I want people to know on which side I stand. I’m tired of being lopped in with the intolerant and self-righteous. I’m tired of apologizing for what I believe, because others who read the same book I do twist it to their own agendas.

Maybe those kids out there collecting money were the good guys. Maybe they weren’t. I don’t know. But I couldn’t take the chance of supporting that which I so fully resent. What a complete shame.

And that's the way it is

2009-07-22T06:52:00.000-05:00

I find it a bit ironic that after the media storm that was the coverage of Michael Jackson’s death, the passing of Walter Cronkite last week has been met with such apathy from the media. Of course, they reported his death, but somehow, with him being the very symbol of integrity in journalism, I’d have expected more.

Perhaps the media didn’t make such a big deal of it because of the contrast that was so evident when contrasting the very things Cronkite was known for, and what the mainstream media has become.

The idea of fair and balanced reporting is such a foreign concept to today’s audience. Today, we have networks devoted to telling us what we want to hear. If we are conservative in thought, we have news networks devoted to telling us how to think and why we’re right and why the other side is wrong. If you’re liberal in thought, you have the same on your own network.

The idea of fact-based news is already antiquated and obsolete. I can’t help but wonder, if perhaps, Cronkite wishes he hadn’t lived to see what’s become of things since he passed on the torch?

Then again, sensationalism in news is nothing new. Less than scrupulous writers have always played fast and loose with the news and the facts for the sake of the “get.” Perhaps the problem is that today there is just so much news and so much competition that stretching facts and bending them to appeal to a certain audience is the only way to assure a certain share of viewers?

After all, the media is, first and foremost, a business. A company who sponsors a certain news program will never be profiled as harshly on that program as they should be—if they do something worthy of media scorn. Is that wrong? If a politician from one party has a scandalous affair, some networks will portray him as a repentant sinner and others as an untrustworthy monster. The next week, they’ll switch positions when a member of the other party does the same thing. Is that wrong?

The common axiom is that we American’s get the government we deserve, meaning that we elect them, so we deserve them. I think the same is true of the media. We get the media we deserve. We get weeks of coverage on Michael Jackson’s death because we watch it and talk about it and blog about it and as long as it brings in the viewers, it brings in the advertising dollars which is what makes the world go round.

We get ridiculously slanted news because we want it. We watch it. We buy into it. We support it. We watch Fox News and buy Ford trucks, or we read the New York Times and donate to Greenpeace. We don’t demand the facts. We don’t even ask for them. All we want is the latest buzzwords. We don’t want news, we want marketing. If you’re willing to tell me what I want to hear, in the way I want to hear it, and explain the events of the world in a way that aligns with my preferences, I’ll patronize you—that’s the way it works now.

Facts? Balance? Integrity? There is no place in the world of big business news for such things. We get the government we deserve. We deserve a government that spends its time posturing, fighting and more concerned with power than people. We get the media we deserve. We deserve the media that markets the events of the day to us rather than report them. Sure, reporters have changed since Cronkite sat in his anchor chair and reported the news to us, but more importantly, we have changed.

We’ve all chosen sides. We all want to be right. We’re willing to be lied to—even to the point of ridiculousness, to maintain that aura of being in the right. The media is biased. The media plays to an audience. The media bends facts and changes stories to suit that audience.
We are that audience. We get what we deserve. We get what we demand. And that’s, sadly, the way it is.

The Evil That Men Do...

2009-07-05T21:56:00.001-05:00

Pay attention kids, because this is a very important thing happening right now. I know that learning lessons can be quite boring but you really don’t want to miss this one. The lesson is this: It’s okay to molest little children if you are one of the greatest musicians of all time. Oh, don’t get me wrong, Michael Jackson faced a little adversity based on his “alleged” kiddie diddling while he was alive, but that’s all in the past now that he’s dead.

Across the world, friends, Roman’s and countrymen alike are wondering why the evil that men do doesn’t live on after them and Catholic priests are crying out to God asking Him why they couldn’t have invented the moonwalk. Michael Jackson is dead and everywhere you look, everything you read, everything you see on television shows St. Michael of Moonwalk in the light of angels. The settlements made with children who attended Jackson’s “sleepovers,” are forgotten.

In dying, Jackson succeeded in once again becoming universally loved. His sins are forgiven. His transgressions have been cast aside. It is the evil that will remain interred with his bones. I don’t begrudge the man respect for his musical talents. I don’t begrudge him his place with the icons of music history. Like anyone else, when Billy Jean comes on my radio, I feel like dancing.

But we didn’t lose the music, we lost the man who made it. He hasn’t had a hit in years. New Michael Jackson hits weren’t forthcoming. His death didn’t mean an end to his music—his pedophilia took care of that. His music will always live on and we won’t have to miss it one bit.

The man is gone though. Usually when pedophiles die, people say good riddance. They proffer that he should have done the world a favor and died sooner. When priests do the same things Jackson did to young boys they are ostracized, they receive death threats. When civilians do those things they register as sex offenders and get bricks thrown through their windows and threats warning them to leave the neighborhood. No one but their family members mourn them when they die. Society chuckles and hopes they burn in hell.

There’s no explanation for the phenomenon going on now. A few weeks ago you couldn’t utter Michael Jackson’s name without some righteous indignation boiling up in you. Now we celebrate his life and work and accomplishments and we forget his sins. Every channel has a tribute program in the works or already playing.

So learn the lesson and learn it well: The lines have now been clearly drawn. Celebrities are all saints once they die. All sins are forgiven. We only remember the good, we discard the bad and we celebrate their life as if it were some guide to how we all should live.

Somewhere, in his prison cell, O.J. Simpson is fashioning a rope out of his bed sheets. Fame and heroism along with a clean slate are only a sharp crack of the neck away.

The Plot to Kill Billy Mays Unfolds

2009-06-29T06:58:00.000-05:00

Wine stains around the world rejoice today with the confirmation of the death of their arch enemy and nemesis, Billy Mays. The battle between Mays and wine stains on white carpet, oil stains on dress shirts (because apparently people wear dress shirts to work on their cars sometimes), grass stains on pant legs and blood stains on the clothes Drew Peterson wore to kill his wives has come to an unexpected end.

Early word is that a team of assassins hired by a secret society known as the Red Wine Stain Coalition carried out the deed. Mainstream news is, of course, not reporting on this angle because the RWSC is widely believed not to exist, but those in the know and conspiracy theorists around the world obviously believe otherwise.

On the condition of anonymity a member of the RWSC spoke with me regarding this tragedy. “How’s that for ‘acting now’ bitch? Huh? You though you could eradicate our kind, you thought you could spearhead the Oxy-Clean Holocaust, eradicating our kind just because you don’t like the way we look. You called us blights on the carpets of the world, you used your oratory skills to convince others that we had no place in the world, you poisoned the minds of people against us all for your own financial gain. Well now, in the end, you know that wine stains are NOT to be fucked with!!! Too late, you discovered that we would not be oppressed by some bearded guy with a whiny voice and evil in his heart! Power to the stains!!!!”

Meanwhile, the world has put aside their grief for Farah Fawcett and Michael Jackson and now focused it on their real hero, pitchman Billy Mays. Prisoners in a Taiwan prison have started to grow beards and are doing daily reenactments of Mays’ infomercials aimed at stain eradication. The eBay website is inundated with merchandise once sold by the man the RWSC called the Hitler of Stain Removal.

Candlelight vigils are taking place at As Seen On TV stores across the nation as Mays’ many devoted followers gather to mourn the loss of their champion. Vince Shlomi, better known as the Shamwow guy had this to say, “We will miss Billy. He was our leader, he was an inspiration to me and other shady salesmen of dubious products everywhere. His death will not go unavenged! I hereby vow to beat up a hooker every day until the assassins who killed my hero turn themselves in!”

One thing is for sure, Mays’ death will not end the war between infomercial peddlers and stains, in fact, it seems to have just escalated matters. Foolish people will point to matters in the Middle East or North Korea as the most pressing potential causes of war, meanwhile, under their noses, pitchemen and wine stains have begun a fight, which will surely cause us all to eventually choose sides.

Who was Billy Mays? The evil dictator of an empire of cleanliness enthusiasts hellbent on purging the stains from existence, or a simply a benevolent man with a message? We may never know, but you can be certain, the war has begun and sides must be chosen. One thing is sure; historians are sure to look back upon this, as the beginning of all that comes next. May Providence be with us all in the trying times to come.

...meanwhile at the Pearly Gates

2009-06-26T06:56:00.001-05:00

St. Peter: Name?

MJ: Ummmm. Michael.

St. Peter: Michaelllllllllll?

MJ: Ummmm. Jackson.

St. Peter: You’re the one who liked to have little kids over for “sleepover parties” where they’d sleep in your bed with you right?

MJ: Well….ummm…you see….ummmm…

St. Peter: Beat it. Just beat it. Beat it-beat it!

MJ: But…I love the children…with a child’s heart!

St. Peter: You’re bad. You’re bad. You know it!

MJ: Nothing happened!

St. Peter: [chuckling] who do you think you’re talking to here kid?

MJ: Ummmmm.

St. Peter: I’m sure as hell not the man in the mirror, I can tell you that.

MJ: This is because I’m black isn’t it?

St. Peter: [laughing] Black huh? You really think so? No kid, it don’t matter if you’re black or white.

MJ: Please let me in?

St. Peter: You should have stopped before you got enough.

MJ: It wasn’t my fault!

St. Peter: Well whose fault is it? It’s not human nature!

MJ: I’m….I’m….I’m gonna kick your ass!

St. Peter: Oh yeah? You wanna be startin something?

MJ: I…I…I just….wanna be where you are!

St. Peter: You should have thought of that before you played hide the pickle with those little kids

MJ: That was never proven!

St. Peter: Say, say, say what you want, but you’re no smooth criminal, we know EVERYTHING up here.

MJ: Can’t I just have one more chance? What more can I give?

St. Peter: Don’t cry kid. We just have a very strict rule up here about kiddie diddlers.

MJ: Then where do I go?

St. Peter: [shrugs shoulders] You could go haunt O.J.

MJ: I think that guy is creepy.

St. Peter: You are not alone.

MJ: Can I go haunt MacCaulay?

St. Peter: If you ever want in here…that would be….dangerous.

MJ: So there’s still a chance for me?

St. Peter: You know the Big Guy. He just can’t stop loving you.

A New Sport!

2009-06-25T06:39:00.002-05:00

I did something today that I don’t normally do. I read one of the articles way in the back of the sport section. You know, the ones about the fringe sports? Well get this! Apparently, the U.S. has a soccer team! You know, the sport you see all those six year old kids playing while their mom’s stalk the sideline, trying to outdress each other? Yeah! That sport! Apparently, adults play it too!

I’m pretty new to the concept, so I’m not sure if the adults still have their moms on the sideline or not, but it seems that not only do we have an adult team that represents the United States, but they beat the best team in the world yesterday!

USA! USA! USA! Way to go!

It was a pretty big upset too. The team from Spain (they call it football over there for reasons that don’t make a bunch of sense since everyone knows that real football is played with your hands!) was on some world-record-setting stretch of consecutive victories and the US team only wound up in the semifinals by a bit of a fluke having to do with crazy tie-breaker rules. It seems that everyone knew the US was going to get a butt whoopin’, but you just never know what’s going to transpire once…hmmmm—what do they do in soccer? Drop the ball? It’s just a guess, but I’m going to go with it—they drop the ball! On any given day, one team can beat another!

Now, the US moves on to the final where they’ll play…some other country, I suppose, for the championship. And it has to be important, even ESPN had an article on it’s site about it! And not just a brief, 200-word article, they had a full, feature-length article and the person who wrote it even knew the names of the coach and some of the players! Can you imagine that?

I, for one, am happy for the team and more than that, I’m happy for all those six year old kids and their mom’s in their pink designer jogging suits with matching purses that have tiny dogs in them with matching bows tied in their fur. Now they can dream of something big like this! Now they can dream of someday playing in a big soccer…ummm…game? Match? What?

These little kids and their moms can now dream the kinds of dreams that kids playing little league baseball and pee wee football and biddy basketball have dreamed. They can dream of a world in which their sport is actually important, relevant and worthy of one article on the website of the most powerful sports conglomerate on Earth! They can dream of someday being famous enough to find their name mentioned on the back page in a tiny article of a major newspaper—and if it’s a slow sporting news day, people like me might even read it!

Who could have possibly foreseen that soccer could ever have reached such an important height, not only here in the US, but across the world? It’s simply amazing! It’s almost like a legitimate sport now! How cool is that?

Well I’m pretty darned happy about the whole thing. Kids should be able to dream. Soccer moms should be able to think that all the money they pay to have their kids play soccer can amount to more than just a fashion show for themselves. This seems like a great first step. Congratulations USA! Congratulations soccer!

Help Wanted

2009-06-24T14:23:00.003-05:00

HELP WANTED:

Seeking energetic, unmarried (and therefore virginal—because you’re all about the abstinence until marriage thing) conservative politician for important position within the government. Previous experience isn’t important, but the applicant must be able to keep it in his/her pants, believe abortion is murder, gay people are gay by choice and shouldn’t be allowed to get married, poor people suck, rich people rule, Dinosaurs walked the Earth only 3000 years ago, the best way to solve a problem is to bomb the fuckers, poor people don’t need healthcare because if they start dying off we won’t have to support their broke asses anymore and of course, that all socialist ideas lead to communism.

The applicant must be at least 35 years old. If your skin is brown (even if you just have a really good tan) you move to the top of the list—same goes for applicants with boobs. If you’re male or have white/grey hair, we unfortunately cannot consider you at this time.

Must be an effective orator, have their own Twitter and Facebook accounts, be able to name at least 3 Miley Cyrus songs and be able to complete an entire interview with Jon Stewart without looking like a complete idiot.

We have officially run out of candidates for this position because each has proven to be an idiot, an adulterer, or spends too much time hunting moose from helicopters and not enough time teaching her teenaged daughter how to ~~roll a damn condom on~~ remain virtuous pure and chaste until marriage.

All applicants meeting the above criteria will be given serious consideration. Those with who can prove incurable impotence will be become automatic finalists.

Start Date: 2012 (however, some preliminary work will be required before then)

Please send applications to: R. Limbaugh at:

rushisgod@liberalscansuckmyass.com

Thank you, and God Bless America!
(and by America, we mean only the people living here legally who make six figures or above)

On having safe trips...

2009-06-22T06:28:00.000-05:00

I took a business trip a couple weeks back and before I left, everyone I saw said the same thing to me: “Have a safe trip!”

I have decided this is one of the dumbest things anyone could tell another person. My reply was the same to everyone: “I’ll try, but it’s not really up to me.” The consensus is that I’m a morbid freak who just needs to learn to accept socially accepted colloquialisms and not take everything so literally.

There’s probably some truth to that, but I’m going to state my case anyway because knowing me, I have to be right to at least some degree, right?

I understand that the intent is a wish of a safe journey, not an instruction, but that’s not what people are saying. The words they use, in the combination they say them makes it kind of an instruction. If people had been coming up to me and saying, “I hope you have a safe trip.” I’d probably have replied with a thankyouverymuch before making an Elvis-like exit. If they’d said something vaguely medieval like “Safe journey!” or “Godspeed!” I’d probably have bowed with a flourish and thrown a thank-you M’lady or Good sir back at them.

I wasn’t being wished a safe trip though, I was being told to and while its all fine and well to want to have a safe trip, I don’t fly the plane, I don’t pick the mugging victim, I take my chances with every taxi I get into—I have very little control over things actually.

But really, what’s the difference between that and my everyday life? Why is safety so important for my trip, but not for my everyday life? Why aren’t these people who care about me calling to wish me a safe trip to work each day? More people die in auto-related accidents than do in airplanes after all. Why is my trip safety important and my everyday safety not?

I’ve decided that “have a safe trip,” is one of the dumbest things that anyone can say to anyone else. I wonder what they’d think if next time I replied with, “thanks, have a safe staying here!” After all, they could get struck by lightning, they could have a tree fall on them, they could eat poisoned sushi, they could fall down an open sewer, they could catch Flying Pig Flu and topple over with fever! Anything can happen!

Some expressions have just run their course. I’m not mounting up on a horse and riding down a trail filled with highwaymen and vagabonds waiting to assault me and steal the coin purse hanging from my belt. At no point will I be forced to use a sword to defend myself and my trusty steed. In fact, if I try to bring a sword with me, they won’t even let me travel now! Travel has become pretty mundane for the most part—at least compared to when the actual journey part was perilous and treacherous.

Travel now consists of sitting in a plane, reading a book, watching the clouds fly by and if something bad happens to the plane, well there’s not much I can do about it is there? People who are travelling are no more likely to die or get hurt than those who stay home now. So, while I appreciate the demand that I actively take measures to assure that the trip I take is a safe one, or even the wish and hope that it will be, next time, I think I’d rather hear a “see you soon,” a “take care,” or a “have fun,” than the standard and irritating “have a safe trip.”
Unless, of course, you see me saddling my horse and sheathing my sword, in which case I’d heartily welcome the wish of a safe journey.

Oops! Our bad!

2009-06-18T06:49:00.000-05:00

Oops. Our bad! No hard feelings black people! That’s the message that the U.S. Senate sent out today, apologizing for wrongs done to blacks through slavery and Jim Crow segregation laws. This isn’t the first time our Senate has apologized either. They’ve issued mea culpa to people of Japanese descent who were interred during World War II, to Hawaiians for overthrowing their kingdom so that we could have a nice vacation spot and to Native Americans for the whole stealing and raping of the land and killing them off with smallpox thing.

And that’s nice. I remember when I was four years old and my mom taught me that you should try to never hurt people, but if you do, that you should always say you’re sorry. Then I got to have ice cream.

So, I can’t help but wonder why it takes Congress almost 150 years to do something that I mastered at the age of four. Do they not serve ice cream in the Senate cafeteria? Did all of our Senators grow up without mothers?

What troubles me most is why now? I mean no disrespect but everyone who was once a slave is now dead, the apology, in addition to being long overdue, is falling on ears that are listening from heaven, so I can’t help but wonder why our elected officials are finally apologizing to dead people when those of us who are still alive are in such desperate times.

Maybe it has something to do with the fact that dead people vote more religiously than the living do?

I can’t help but wonder if in 150 years, our Congress will get together and formally apologize to the descendants of slaves who were alive in 2009 and didn’t have health care, who were unemployed, whose mortgages were in foreclosure because instead of actually doing something about the problems of the day, in a dire and serious time, they chose to pander and prance on camera, posing for pictures, slapping each other on the back for doing something a child could and would have done in less than five minutes back when the people we were apologizing to were still around?

I wonder if they’ll apologize to the rest of us who face the same circumstances? I wonder if they’ll admit that their predecessors, so completely incompetent that they wanted no part in solving the issues of the day, chose instead to make news splashes with issues that were important, but in no way time sensitive?

I wonder how alone President Obama must feel? I wonder if he shakes his head and questions exactly how he’s supposed to affect change in a country that desperately needs it when an entire third of the government is actively working on apologizing for things that happened 150 years ago. Even as a black man, I wonder if our President is just rolling his eyes and asking God, how can he possibly be surrounded by so much ineptitude? What a lonely feeling it must be to try to solve a financial crisis, out of control unemployment, financial institution collapse, a couple of wars, lack of a coherent and effective healthcare, energy crisis and every other problem of the day when the 535 members of the legislative branch of the government are high fiving, smiling and posing for pictures with whatever black people they can find?

Perhaps we should take note. Perhaps, when our Senators and Congressmen are next elected, we should ask them what they were doing with their time when we were hurting? Were they actively seeking solutions to current issues that faced our nation, or were they posturing, taking care of business that children could have accomplished in much less time?
Perhaps the Change We Need involves more than the election of just one man. Perhaps we’ll have to clean the whole damn house and save our ancestors from the idiocy of a too late apology that can only sooth a sting that won’t ever fully heal.

The Electronic Leash

2009-06-17T06:37:00.000-05:00

You never realize how much a part of your life your cell phone is until you lose it. That’s what happened to me on a recent trip to New York. I lost my phone. And it wasn’t just any old phone either, it was my Blackberry, which had three email accounts coming directly to it. Essentially, once lost, it was identity theft waiting to happen. I’m normally pretty anal about making sure my phone is with me and secure, but in this case, a little monsoon and an inside out umbrella diverted my attention.

The good news is that I found my phone after retracing my steps—the monsoon ostensibly keeping the many people who could have picked the phone up and kept it indoors and away the place where my phone sat filling up with rainwater. Long story short, I had to get a new phone and instead of opting for another crackberry, I chose to go with an iPhone.

At the risk of sounding like someone who should be wearing white shoes, suspenders and a WWII baseball hat, I’m simply amazed at what has become of cell phones. I’ve been here for it all. I remember being in high school when just having a pager was the coolest thing ever (mine was aqua blue see through). I remember gawking at the people with cell phones that were essentially little briefcases with a phone attached. I remember the brick phones, the Nokia craze, the introduction of flip phones. I was amazed when I got my Blackberry that I could actually visit websites and email from my phone.

But somewhere along the way, my phone became an appendage. It’s a part of me now and I’m dependent on it. The day I spent without a phone in NY was one of the longest in recent memory because a phone is so much more than a phone now. It’s a lifeline to the world.

It’s my watch, because there is no reason to wear something on your wrist to tell the time when you have it there on your phone. It’s my picture album, long gone are the days of keeping photos in my wallet. It’s my address book—in fact, when the data from my recently demised phone was found to be unrecoverable, I officially lost touch with anyone for whom I don’t have an email address.

It’s my primary communication tool. I text, I email, I talk—and probably in that order now, actual talking being such a drain on my time and all. It’s my datebook, my calendar, my calculator, my camera. If its not within my reach at all times, I literally start to get jittery.

And my new phone, my iPhone, it doesn’t stop there. It tells me how the stock market is doing, it gives me the news, it tells me what the weather is like outside and anywhere else I may like to know it. It tells me how to get where I’m going and it tells me where I’m at. It connects me to YouTube so I won’t miss a second of the goofy videos that people post. It will download 16 gigabytes of music and video for me to listen to and watch. I cut my teeth on a Commodore 64 computer in grade school!

10 PRINT “HI”
20 PRINT GOTO 100
30 PRINT RUN

That’s right. There was a time in my life when making the word “hi” appear on a screen 100 times after only typing it once seemed magical in a computer that weighed more than I did and maxed out at 64 kilobytes. Now my phone, that I carry with me everywhere, in my pocket, holds 16G worth of information. It’s constantly connected to the World Wide Web. If I want it to go faster, I can connect it to my WiFi.

We’ve come a long way from creating sprites on low-resolution screens. Now I can watch, crystal clear, my favorite television show which I happened to miss last night, right on my phone.

And yes, I’ve become so addicted to it, I need it at my side so badly that when my phone was destroyed, I simply couldn’t wait more than 12 whole hours before I HAD to get a new one. It didn’t matter that I didn’t have anyone’s number to put into it. It didn’t matter that I didn’t especially have anyone I needed to call. The idea of being out of touch, unreachable made my skin crawl. What if Britney Spears did something stupid? I might not now about it for HOURS if I waited until I logged on to my laptop—the computer that I bring with me when I go places because the idea of being without a computer is as ridiculous as being without a phone.

What’s left? If they figure out a way for me to have my drivers license and insurance card and my Borders Reward card on my phone; if they make a credit card application that allows me to pay by swiping my phone instead of an actual credit card—well I’d have no need for a wallet at all. If they figure out a way to make it start my car and open the door to my home, I can stop carrying keys too.

I’m already dependant on it. Why not go the whole 9 yards?

I really can’t say when it happened. I just know that it’s a fact of life now. I am a cellaholic. I am addicted. I don’t want to be rehabbed. I’m a happy addict. I need my phone and my phone needs me. We’re happy together. We’re always together. We’re like peas in a pod.

I’ve come a long way since that aqua blue, see through pager I used to wear, clipped to my pants, mostly as a symbol of how cool I was and how I was someone people wanted to be in touch with! The electronic leash was loose then, it was comfortable, it wasn’t threatening in the slightest. Now? Well now it has me, bound tightly in inescapable knots that I wouldn’t try to undo even if I could.
Dependence. Bondage. Enslavement. Necessity. Convenience. Aid. I don’t know. I don’t care. The cave men had their pointy sticks and fire; I have my iPhone. How’s that for evolution?

Whale Wars is Back! Deathwish II

2009-06-16T06:45:00.000-05:00

The show I love to hate is back and it’s back with a vengeance! Whale Wars has returned for a second season on Animal Planet and the incompetence, disregard for human life and flat out stupidity of Captain Paul Watson and his Sea Shepherd command crew have never been more prominently on display!

I think their slogan should be Save the Whales AND Die Trying, the “and” being an obvious substitution for the word “or” which just wouldn’t make much sense because as far as I can tell, the goal of Watson and his Eco-Pirates is to accomplish both aims, not one or the other.

Last season, the witless captain coerced crew members into actual, honest to goodness, punishable by law piracy, routinely sent untrained, untested, amateurs into the Arctic Ocean in tiny inflatable boats to harass the Japanese Whaling boats they struggle against—that is if they can get the boats launched in high seas with almost no training to do so.

And let’s break here for the disclaimer shall we? My problem isn’t with the cause. The cause is one I actually feel is noble, worthwhile and one that should be fought for—don’t doubt that. My problem is with the careless regard for human life on the part of the captain and his command crew, my problem is with acts of terrorism and end justifies the means ideology and the seeming goal of martyrdom for the cause.

This season, only two episodes in and the Sea Shepherd flagship, the Steve Irwin, a ship that Captain Watson sails into the iceberg rich waters of the Arctic Ocean even though it’s hull has a ZERO ice rating (which means that it’s not built to withstand any contact with icebergs) is already stuck, due to a poor decision by the captain, in a field of icebergs with no apparent way out.

Of course, being only the second week of the show, obviously they’ll not only survive, but their pure dumb luck will see them through, but what seems obvious to me is that these people are living on borrowed time. My favorite scene so far was the one where the hull keeps getting battered by an iceberg in the same spot and it seems that a hull breach is imminent. Two of the dumb kids who volunteered to help save the world are dispatched to the area to monitor the situation (yell and scream when water starts rushing in) and the camera person taping for Animal Planet refuses to stay with them citing the absolute idiocy of being there.

At least someone has some common sense!

My favorite new character though is the woman who was formerly in the U.S. Navy and has obviously been on a well-run, organized, ship where the crew has been trained, the captain is competent and the command crew is…well, sane. With every new dumb thing Captain Watson does, they cut to her telling us why its not the right thing to do—it’s brilliant!

My favorite returning character, aside from the foolish Captain Watson is the imbecile First Mate, Peter Brown. This man can’t seem to get through a sentence without mentioning how deadly what they do is and how happy they should all be for the chance to die! His nautical experience obviously doesn’t qualify him as a First Mate, as he was at the helm trying to steer through a field of icebergs, a more experienced crewmember kept reading off the bearing he should be heading—and Brown, inexplicably, didn’t know how to steer the ship to correspond to those bearings!

He kept demanding, “Port or starboard?!?!?!?!” Oh yes! The crew is in good hands indeed, when Mr. Brown is at the helm!

The sad part is that because these people are such buffoons, the cause becomes lumped into that buffoonery. These people come off as being stupid—and they are. Sure, before they get on board, they are all told that they should be prepared to sacrifice their lives for the whales; what they aren’t told is that their lives will constantly be put in peril, not for the whales, but for the inexperience of their Captain and his command crew, for the complete lack of training they receive and for the decisions made with careless disregard for life.

Simply put, it’s a clusterfuck. But it sure is entertaining! And we’re only two weeks in! Will Captain Watson finally screw up bad enough to earn his first martyr? Will Peter Brown manage a single sentence that doesn’t mention risking life or dying? Will the former U.S. Navy Sailor get tired of all the incompetence, mutiny against the idiocy and take the ship over? Stay tuned!

Second World Countries

2009-06-15T06:19:00.000-05:00

Does it bother anyone else that while we still have Third World countries, we don’t have First World, or Second World ones anymore? This is the problem with putting me into an airplane—my mind wanders to subjects like this one.

It really started bothering me, at 30,000 feet too. I’d never even heard of a first or second world country! I assumed, incorrectly, that First World countries were the ones with indoor plumbing, the Third World countries were the ones without and that really bothered me because for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what that meant as to how a Second World country would be defined? Would it be a country with some indoor plumbing but not a lot? Would it be a country where they had indoor plumbing you were still at risk from having wild monkeys fling poo at you for sport?

I had no idea what the hell a second world country might be and more importantly, I didn’t have Google and Wikipedia to tell me for as long as I was in the plane! It was very disturbing. And, of course, when I got home and I was able to GooPedia “Third World Countries” I was shocked to find out that the term had nothing to do with living in huts, pooping into holes you dug into the ground or monkeys doing anything.

Apparently, the whole idea was a Cold War thing. The First World was the good guys (from our point of view), the US and our NATO allies and the countries who were neutral but friendly. The Second World was the USSR and their commie friends. And Third World countries were just countries who didn’t line up on either side.

There are no qualifications in terms of disease, famine, unsanitary conditions or war—and there are no per capita monkey minimums! Canada could wake up tomorrow and decide they want to be a Third World country if they wanted! Can you believe it? Well—perhaps Canada was a poor choice for example, but I digress.

Here’s my problem. After the collapse of communism and the USSR, we all became friends and the Second World was assimilated into the First World which is fine and well, but why didn’t the Third World get a promotion? Why didn’t we call the Third World countries and say, Listen fellas, you’ve all been doing a great job there doing nothing and staying off the radar of those of us who have been drawing lines in the sand, so we’ve decided to promote you to Second World Countries!!!!

I mean, take a look at the list. It’s not what you’d call a group of countries with a lot of notoriety. They could probably use some self-esteem! But no! Instead of giving them a promotion, we decide to just ignore the idea of Second World Countries altogether and let the Third World continue on at the lowest rung of the ladder. Hey Third World! You suck so bad we’re keeping an empty category in between ourselves and you in the hope that we can get some dumbass country to stand between us and buffer us from the stank of you! Seriously, it’s called soap! Try it!

Poor Third World. No money. No friends. Not only do they not have a Facebook page, they don’t even have the internet and even though there isn’t a Second World anymore, they still get the bronze medal in the Olympiad of Life.
Oh well, I’d write more, but my new iPhone just beeped and I have to check my email. Take care!

Separate and Unequal

2009-06-04T06:28:00.000-05:00

I think that a very important issue is being overlooked here in all the confusion over the gay marriage thing that’s taken the country over lately. Specifically, what about us single people? I mean, if you ask gay people why they want the right to be married, they say its because they want equality, the right to be with their partner in the hospital, the tax benefits, the insurance benefits, the list goes on and on and as a single man, it leaves me thinking, just what is equal about rewarding someone—be they straight or gay couples—for partnering up?

Where’s my equality? Where are my equal rights? Why do I pay more in car insurance, with a spotless record, than a married person with an accident on their record? Actuaries be damned, how does getting married make me a better driver and therefore worthy of reduced rates?

Gay marriage is an issue for more than just reasons of equality; it’s an issue because there are advantages to be gained by getting married. So where are my fellow single people at in all this? Why are we taking the sides of the religious right or the gay community in this battle? Let them each fight their own fight. Why aren’t we looking out for ourselves?

Is it not discrimination to be charged more to insure an automobile because we are not married? Even if the statistics say that we are more likely to get into an accident, what if those same statistics said that gay people were more likely to get into an accident? How would that go over?

Why do married people get tax breaks that aren’t available to those of us who are single? What if our relatives are all a bunch of bastards and we’d prefer to have our friends at our bedside in the hospital—why can’t we have all those things too? Someone please explain to me the equality in this situation? Somebody please tell me why we reward the married with rights and privileges that the single are not entitled to have?

Look, if there weren’t enough people in the world already and we needed to focus on populating the planet, then I’d understand why a government might want to give incentive to couples to marry, but as things stand now, we have too many people. They should be giving people incentives to not marry!

I’m not against the institution of marriage. I’m not against anyone’s right to be married either. I’m just curious, in the midst of all this talk over people having equal rights, why those of us who are not married aren’t part of the conversation? Sure, we could choose to be. Don’t get me wrong, I understand that, but if we were to choose not to be, then we have to accept a status that isn’t equal to those who are married? Maybe it’s just me, but that doesn’t sound very American to my way of thinking. All men are created equal, but those who aren’t hitched are a little less so. God Bless America! (if you’re married).

The Socialist Threat

2009-05-20T19:50:00.000-05:00

The cloud of Socialism hangs over the United States of America. Make no mistake about it my friends! Of course, I’ve always been a fan of clouds. Sometimes you can just stare at them up in the sky and matrix them into all kinds of fun shapes, a puppy, a crocodile, Jessica Alba.

The Republican Party, which has been in complete disarray since losing the election last November, has now proposed that the Democrat Party rename themselves the Democrat Socialist Party. I for one, think it’s a beautiful thing! Of course, I don’t think the Democrats will do it, or that the idiotic tactics being employed by the Republicans are going to do them any good, but I’m overjoyed that the threat of Socialism is running rampant throughout the U.S.!!!

Now don’t tell anyone, but I’m not really supporting Socialism in the U.S. Although personal heroes like Kurt Vonnegut and Jesus Christ were outspoken Socialists, I don’t really think socialism is the answer to our countries problems. But the threat of socialism is a beautiful thing, don’t you think?

Our country is made up of a tiny percentage of rich people, who have more money than they could ever use and they sit on it. Then there are the rest of us who bust our humps, get paid salaries that allow us to get by and little more and it gets you to thinking, how did all of this happen?

Back in the day, we had actual industry here in the United States. Industry, for those of you too young to have ever witnessed it, can be simplified to “making stuff.” Yes. We used to make stuff here. We used to ship it to other places just like China and Japan and Indonesia ship stuff that they’ve made here now.

When we used to make stuff, the same type of thing was happening. The people who ran the companies made all the money and they allowed their employees to live paycheck to paycheck, barely surviving. They did this because they were greedy little bastards, but if we’re honest with ourselves, deep down, we all are and would have done the same thing.

To continue the history lesson though, the workers eventually got a little pissed off and just like that, the Unions were born. The Unions fought to get fair wages, reasonable workday lengths, over time pay and all kinds of things that made the workers happier. The rich still got rich, but not quite as rich as they were before. Then the Unions started to get run by nefarious types and before long, they were as corrupt and greedy as the captains of industry.

The workers were greedy too though. They didn’t want their kids to grow up to be coal miners and farmers and machine operators and laborers of any kind. They wanted their kids to have jobs in offices, with desks and phones and collared shirts, so they sacrificed and saved and sent their kids off to college.
About this same time, captains of industry were upset about the way things had turned out with the weakening of their profit margins. Paying workers an honest day’s pay for an honest day’s work really wasn’t a popular idea, but the Unions, being run by nefarious sorts, were unbreakable, so other plans had to be made.

It turns out the plan was to stop making stuff here in the U.S. You won’t believe this, but you can pay a 12 year old Chinese girl less than a dollar a day to do a job that a Union worker in the U.S. would make $20.00 an hour to do! Of course this probably seems a little unfair to the U.S. worker doesn’t it? Surely our elected representatives would have something to say about that, right?

Unfortunately, no—they did not. You see, it takes money to get elected to political office and it’s much easier to work for a lot of money from a captain of industry, than it is to work hard for a bunch of people who can only give you a little bit each. Thus, the captains of industry purchased the United States of America and set the puppets they put into office about to do their bidding, instead of the bidding of the constituency they were supposed to be “representing.”

Sadly, we the people, didn’t much notice. We didn’t want to work in factories and fields and mines anyway. We wanted to work in offices, with water coolers and staplers and photocopy machines. As the Unions really didn’t protect the office dwellers, since the office dwellers were the ones who they were protecting laborers from, the office dwellers became an exploitable commodity. Of course it wasn’t like the old days—the office dwellers still got a few vacation days here and there and insurance and such, but most of them were put on something called a salary, which essentially meant they were paid for 40 hours worth of work a week, and given 60-80 hours of work to do each week.

And predictably, there weren’t enough real office jobs for all of the people who were too good to work in fields and factories and mines so enterprising new captains of industry created fake jobs for them. A fake job is any job that isn’t essential. If you don’t make it, mine it, transport it, etc, you have a fake job. Some companies, who can’t afford to hire people from our country to make their products, can afford to pay millions of dollars for 30 seconds of advertising time for a commercial during events like the Super Bowl—how’s that for fake?

That brings us to the present time. The economy is in bad shape. Many of us are finding out just how expendable we really are; we’re finding out that our jobs are fake, or that they can be pared down and done by fewer people. The captains of industry don’t much care, because they still have so much money that they won’t ever possibly spend it in their lifetime, and neither will their children’s children. Unions are dead. There is no industry here anymore to support them. The office dwellers can’t spend money because they aren’t making money and so those who have sit tight and wait, while those who do not, begin to suffer. And that is precisely why the threat of socialism is such a beautiful thing right now! We should all embrace it! Say it with me now: Workers of the world, unite!

The current political intent is to scare you with Socialism. The former Soviet Union was a socialist country you know! Communists in fact! They want you to be afraid of it, they want you to mistrust it. They want you to be worried about it happening to you, they equate it with a loss of freedom, but that’s not really the case. Socialism isn’t a bad thing necessarily, not if it’s Democratic Socialism. You see, there is a big difference between Communism and a Democratic Socialist government.

Socialism, at its core, is the belief that Capitalism unfairly conglomerates power and money, to those who have the capital and money. In other words, it believes that the rich getting richer is an unfair way of doing business. Socialism is more of an equal opportunity kind of government. It stands in opposition to the imbalance of Capitalism. And, of course, it’s a horrible idea for the United States. We were founded on the principles of Capitalism and have thrived under them. It would be foolish to just do away with them.

But the powerful and rich have gotten too powerful and too rich and they control too much of the money and too much of us. In November, for the first time in a very long time, we the people decided that we had just about enough of the puppets of the those captains of industry running things, so we elected a guy they hadn’t gotten their hooks into yet. And he has messes to fix.

Some of the methods and ideologies of the fixes he’s putting into place smack of socialist ideals. Universal health care means everyone gets it! Not just those who can afford it! And those who make more, have to pay more so that those of us who make less, don’t go broke paying for it. So, unless you’re rich, that should sound like a great plan!

The thing is that the economy works best when there is a lot of money flowing through it. It doesn’t do that when it’s all bunched up at the top. It doesn’t trickle down as they’d have you believe. Greed is too powerful an instinct to us. We gather to us all we can and more. Me first. So, our President is putting money into the bottom and letting it flow up. Not all of it, mind you, just enough of it to make those who have it pretty nervous.

Which brings us all the way back to the pretty cloud of socialism that’s hanging over our country. Embrace it my friends! Don’t embrace the idea of socialism—it works brilliantly in some places, but it would never work here. Embrace the threat of it! It’s been a long time since those at the top of the food chain have feared those of us at the bottom. And fear is a powerful motivator. They don’t like that we’ve elected a President without consulting them. The Republican Party is in disarray because we did. We became so disgruntled with their representation that we turned our backs on them and now they are all busy running around and howling at the moon. The more liberal Democrat Party is in power now, trying to fix the economic problems with liberal theories and ideas—some of them that even smack of socialism. And they fear it.

It would be an end to all they know. It would be an end to their power. It would be an end to looking down with disdain at the rest of us. It would be a mistake. As much as we don’t want to admit it, we need them. But they don’t know that we still know that. They are afraid of the step we’ve taken away from them, and they live in fear of further steps, like the step to socialism.

People of power will not go down without a fight. The fear will make them change their ideas and thoughts and they will look to appease us—because there are so many more of us than there are of them. And when used, there is power in numbers—when we vote, like we did this past November. In order to avoid the calamity that would be actual socialism in the U.S., they will make efforts to make wealth and power more accessible to us. They will share, so as not to lose. We shouldn’t want equal pay for everyone, but we should want what is fair. We should want to be able to keep our jobs in favor of executives getting multi-million dollar bonuses. That’s ridiculous. That’s the kind of compromise we can force.

Such is the power of the threat of Socialism. It is a weapon. It is fear. It is motivation. What our President is doing now isn’t socialism, but it’s close. That closeness, combined with the lack of any real message or direction from the Republican party has caused them to try to make us—we the people—afraid of socialism. Be not afraid my friends. They have unwittingly provided us with the weapon we can use to close the gaps that exist in our country today. Let’s make them think that we’re actually crazy enough to use it!

When pigs...

2009-04-30T06:28:00.000-05:00

The WHO (the World Health Organization, not the band that sings the CSI theme song) is working desperately to save the pigs. Apparently, the Egyptian government slaughtered over 30,000 pigs in an effort to stem the tide of the Swine Flu pandemic that’s sweeping cities and towns by the…well, single digit numbers everywhere but Mexico. The WHO (whose members may or may not moonlight at PETA) have taken quick action to assure us that Swine Flu doesn’t come from pigs!

Whahuh?

Apparently, this latest version of “Swine Flu” is not technically Swine Flu. It’s a new strain of influenza A virus subtype H1N1 that derives from one strain of human influenza, one strain of avian influenza, and two separate strains of swine influenza. If my math is right, that makes it Flying Pig Flu, Now New And Improved for Human Beings! I think we should call it Flying Pig Flu for short though.

The WHO (once again not the band) disagrees. In a marketing effort that seems completely unlikely to fail, they want us to call this new strain by it’s scientific name: "Rather than calling this swine flu ... we're going to stick with the technical scientific name H1N1 influenza A,” said WHO spokesman Dick Thompson (not to be confused with Pete Townsend spokesman of the actual Who).

Obviously, while Flying Pig Flu may be fun to think about, it just doesn’t roll off the ole tongue like H1N1 Influenza A does. You wouldn’t be very likely to find a group of coworkers huddled around the water cooler talking about Flying Pig Flu whereas talking about H1N1 Influenza A seems commonplace to the point of absurdity.

“Hey Bob, did you hear they closed another school because of H1N3 Influenza A?”

[chuckling] “Actually Donna, I think you mean H1N1 Influenza A, but yes I have heard! In the future, it’ll be easier to say if you just remember that H1N1 was the original name of R2-D2 before the Flu lobby sued George Lucas for trying to use the name!”

“Oh silly me Bob! Thanks for the helpful hint!”

*****

I suppose you just can’t argue with the logic of the WHO. By giving what we currently call Swine Flu an easy to remember name like A1N1 Influenza A, all pigs, even flying ones will be safe from harm and as a Cubs fan, I’m very interested in the health of all of the flying pigs in the world.

Now the Egyptians can leave the rest of their pigs alone and no one will bother to kill any more pigs—after all, it’s not Swine Flu, it’s A1N1 Influenza A! If we’re going to needlessly slaughter in the name of health, let’s slaughter numbers and letters! Ha! Not possible huh!?!? Take that!

Obviously the WHO knows what their doing. Who could ever forget A1N1 Influenza A? Still…something keeps nagging at me. Somewhere deep down I keep coming back to Flying Pig Flu. It might be kind of cool too.

“Where’s Frank?”

“Oh, he’s at home. He has a nasty case of Flying Pig Flu.”

“Why is school cancelled Mommy?”

“Because dear, Flying Pig Flu has invaded the area and we must be cautious!”

Think of the tee-shirts! I Survived Flying Pig Flu—2009! Think of the public safety ad featuring Jennifer Aniston, “…so please, wash your hands, cover your mouth when coughing and keep your distance from any and all pigs you see that have wings.”

I know what you’re thinking. It’s not as much fun as the A1N1 Influenza A conversations, tee-shirts and commercials would be. They could probably get Brad and Angelina to do the A1N1 Influenza A public safety ad. It’s just more respectable. Sorry. A guy can dream though!

Well the WHO may want to call this A1N1 Influenza A and maybe they’ll get all of you to follow along. I certainly don’t want pigs to be needlessly slaughtered, but I think I’m going to defy them and call it Flying Pig Flu anyway. I encourage you to do the same. Since when do potentially deadly strains of influenza need to be taken so seriously anyway?
Flying Pig Flu it is then—I hope you don’t get it, but if you do, have a little fun with it huh?

Miss USA Denied Free Speech

2009-04-20T19:54:00.001-05:00

I’d be lying if I said that I knew anything about beauty pageants and the questions the contestants are asked, but I have a problem with the controversy over the Miss USA pageant and the question asked of Ms. California, Carrie Prejean. That’s right, my issue is with the question, not with the answer she gave. Gossip blogger Perez Hilton was on the panel and asked the question of Ms. Prejean about her stance on gay marriage.

Prejean made the catastrophic mistake of answering the question honestly. She doesn’t believe in gay marriage. She believes that marriage should be between a man and a woman. Her honesty likely cost her the competition and the title of Ms. USA.

When she gave her answer, there was some booing in the audience and I have no problem with that—those people have the right to their opinions just as Carrie Prejean has a right to hers. The man who asked the question, a judge in this competition and a gay man should be ashamed of himself though. Hilton wasted no time in blogging that Carrie Prejean was a “stupid bitch.”

Let’s just take a look at this shall we? Hilton, an obvious and vocal supporter of the legalization of gay marriage uses his celebrity to gain the post of judge at this pageant. Then, as a judge he gets to ask a question of the contestants for them to be judged on and he asks a question to which he strongly believes there is only one answer and when the contestant fails to trumpet his own views in an attempt to pander to him, he freaks out.

My question is this: Is it fair of a judge in this competition to ask a question on which they have strong views and believe there is only one answer? Isn’t this a trick question? A catch-22? Take the social issues out of the equation for a moment. Pretend that the question was something innocuous like this: Which color is better, red or blue?

If the judge has a love for the color red and a hatred for the color blue, the contestant—no matter how eloquently she speaks, how well thought out her response might be, no matter how well-stated her opinion may be, will be judged poorly by that judge simply for having the nerve to like blue.

Or add the controversy back into the equation. Replace Hilton as judge with Rush Limbaugh and have him ask the same question. How different is the response and the outrage when he casts his vote against a candidate for believing that gay marriage should be allowed?

I’m not here to discuss the issue. I’m not here to debate gay marriage, I’m here to stand up and point out that we live in a country that stands on the principle (or the illusion) of free speech. We have the right to our opinions here and we are guaranteed not to be judged for them unless they threaten the life of others. So I’m sorry, but I’m a little uncomfortable at the idea that the woman who wants to hold the crown of Ms. USA was judged on her opinion, an opinion held by a large portion of our country—right or wrong, when asked a loaded question by a judge with an agenda.

The person who should be ashamed here is Perez Hilton, not for his beliefs, not for his stance, but for his manipulative question. He should be ashamed of asking a question that forced a contestant to answer the way he obviously wanted them to answer, or face the consequences. Whether purposefully or not, he tried to manipulate a contestant into publically agreeing with his particular stance on a controversial topic and when she had the gall to disagree with his stance, he voted against her and cursed at her on his widely read blog.

Let’s not pretend that we’re awarding the title of Ms. USA to our best and brightest. Let’s not pretend that this is anything but what it is, a beauty pageant. The question is a formality to give some validity to it being a “scholarship competition.” These women are being judged on their boobs and butts, not their intelligence. The purpose of the question is test the poise and charisma of the contestant. No one expects her to be a Rhodes Scholar, she need only show vocal ability above the level of the lower primates.

The question is supposed to be about pollution, or saving the whales, or whether babies born addicted to crack should be detoxed or punted around like footballs, they should be easy and obvious questions that allow no possibility for offense to be taken by the answer. They should be issues that are entirely one-sided in the collective opinions of our citizenry, or at least questions on which we are open-minded enough to see both sides of the issue.

When a gay man asks a question on a gay or anti-gay issue he is not judging a contest, he is using the contest as a platform for his personal beliefs and that demeans the contestants, the viewers, and the country which this contestant is vying to represent. He puts his cause in front of his integrity and by doing so, he also demeans his cause and the people who fight for it legitimately. He arms critics and cynics with the ammunition they need to push their own agendas against him.

Everyone seems to be so concerned with the answer Ms. Prejean gave, but I find no fault with her for voicing her opinion. Of the two of them involved in this mess, only one acted with integrity and it wasn’t Perez Hilton. You don’t change people’s hearts and minds by demanding it of them. You don’t create lasting change through ulterior motives and manipulation. When you do, you push them further and further away, you create and foster the kind of bigotry you want so desperately to do away with.

They’ll call her names and she’ll be disparaged by the left leaning media and she’ll become a hero and darling of the right. Mission accomplished Perez Hilton, you caused division and separation. That was the goal, right?

Iowa is soooooo gay.

2009-04-04T11:25:00.002-05:00

Well, it looks like Iowa, a far west suburb of Chicago, has paved the way to make gay marriage legal there. I've always liked Iowa. No one will ever give them their own sports teams, so those crazy Iowans have adopted Chicago teams as their own. Specifically the Cubs. The Cubs have our AAA team based there and when I was at Spring Training last year there were as many people from Iowa there as there were from Chicago. Iowa was also the place where darkhorse candidate Barack Obama became a real contender for the job of President.

So, I'm excited and proud of my far-west Chicago suburb friends in the little town of Iowa today and I'm excited for their future. Since gay marriage is only going to be legal in three states, you have to assume there will be a large influx of fabulous coming to Iowa and not a moment too soon! Overalls have been in need of some glam for years and this will obviously help that to happen. It won't be long until you see overalls with glitter, pink and rainbow colored overalls, and of course designer overalls. It's been a much maligned article of clothing and I really think the influx of gay men specifically will help to revitalize and bring current this staple of American farming apparel.

And how awesome is it that the face of farming is going to be changing? Right now, the farming community has a bad rep. When you think of farmers, you think of redneck, inbred, dim witted field jockeys who speak slow and wear a constant look of confusion on their faces. Not for long! Fabulous Farmers are on the way! I mean, gay people got their name because they seem so damn happy--which, before they stole it, was the actual meaning of the word gay. The Fabulous Farmers will change the face of rural America. Say goodbye to the bland red barns you used to see while travelling through Iowa folks. Instead of seeing farm after farm that look the exact same, prepare yourself for barn watching to see what crazy color combination and decorative accoutraments those crazy Fabulous Farmers have come up with now!

And when you actually get onto the farm, don't be suprised to see that the cows aren't named Betsy and Daisy anymore. Cow names will now be Cassandra and Felicity and Porcia--you won't know if you're on a farm or in a stripclub! And the days of bland, unaccessoriezed cows is in the past. The bell will no longer be the standard neckwear for cowkind. Beautiful scarves, necklaces, chokers, feather boas and other fab accessories will take their place. And those numbers you see pierced through the ears of cows? No more! Oh, those ears will still be pierced, but now with cow jewelry instead! The fabulification of Iowa farms may actually be the turning point in the revitalization of our economy!

Its going to be great. I know, I know, this is a serious issue to a lot of people and my intent is not to demean it. I'm on record as being in favor of secular gay marriage and I'm happy that Iowa stepped up to the plate and did something about it. Its one thing for those liberal lefty pansy states on the East Coast to make gay marriage legal, but another entirely for a midwest stalwart like Iowa to do it. So with all sincerity to those who feel strongly about this issue, congratulations and may there be many who follow Iowa's example. Dye or not, I've always wanted to see a purple cow.

God Bless Jon Stewart

2009-03-13T06:04:00.000-05:00

If I could be a woman for a day, after doing other various fun things, I would devote an hour to doing everything within my power to have Jon Stewart’s babies. The man is pure genius.

I’m a frequent watcher of his program The Daily Show and over the past few weeks he’s been engaged in a war of words with CNBC, stemming from the now YouTube famous rant by Rick Santelli about homeowners who need bailout money being “losers.”

While Santelli, who was supposed to be on the show, wound up cancelling, the Daily Show and the various anchors on CNBC shows have been going at it and Stewart, in his typical irreverent style, has been bashing the entire network. One of those who took particular offense was Jim Cramer the host of a show called Mad Money.

While Santelli seemingly didn’t have the testicular fortitude to come on the Daily Show and back up his opinions, I have to give Cramer credit for at least manning up and coming onto the program. Though in hindsight, he may realize it was a huge mistake.

Stewart slammed him like a five-dollar Guatemalan hooker.

He devoted almost the entire program to the interview, which actually turned out to be more of a scolding. It had the feel of a student in the principal’s office, a bug and a windshield, a ho and her pimp—it was an old fashioned ass whoopin.

Cramer had no ground to stand on. He had no reply to Stewart’s accusations. He was subjected to a 30-minute chastising.

I’ve watched Stewart interview people he doesn’t agree with before. He has a philosophical difference of opinion from Bill O’Reilly, and he’s tough on him in interviews, but you can always sense a genuine respect between the two—while they may not agree, or even respect each other’s opinions, they do at least respect the other’s right to that opinion and the way they express it.

None of that was evident last night. The humor was at an all-time low on the Daily Show. It wasn’t “fake news” as Stewart likes to call it, last night. Last night it was real news, real reporting, real interviewing and a very real critique of the way CNBC has handled itself preceding and now during this financial crisis.

In Cramer’s defense, it was a bit of an ambush, with clip after clip pointing out his own hypocrisy, but that’s the price you pay for being a hypocrite.

I know Stewart leans left in his politics, and I normally lean right, but I’ve always appreciated the fact that Stewart is fair-minded and equally tough on both sides on his show. He ripped President Obama on his very first day because so much of his inaugural speech was made of up phrases that President Bush had been uttering for the past 8 years. It’s just sad that in this day and age, we have to depend on a guy who does a “fake news” show to really go after people like the CNBC network.

The “real” media is making it out to be some kind of battle of the blowhards and largely only reporting on the drama of it all. Facts don’t sell. Drama does. Me? I’ll take my facts peppered with punch lines any day, as long as I get some fair, balanced reporting and a media outlet that pursues the truth. It’s sad that I have to find it on Comedy Central.

But Comedy Central is the home to the Daily Show, which has become the only source of news some people get. Somewhere along the way, the integrity of the media was swept under a rug and forgotten. Every news show you see now has an agenda of some sort. It’s on a left leaning network, it’s on the far right network, instead of news, we get spin. Even in the arena of the written news, you have to read at least four or five articles on any given topic, from different publications just to be assured that you actually do have the facts.

Cramer may have best pointed out the problem yesterday when he said that CNBC had 17 hours of live television to do every day. The news channels are no different. With all day to fill, the facts just cease to be enough. Editorial on the subjects at hand are necessary. The problem is that there is no line between the reporters and the editorialists. They are one and the same.

The media’s job used to be to get us the facts so that we could make our own minds up. Today’s media is in the business of telling us lies so we’ll think what they want us to think. It’s not like they’re trying to be manipulative about it though. You can watch any news channel for 2 minutes and know where their loyalties lie. Same as you can tell by reading one article from any newspaper.

And then there is Comedy Central--Comedy Central where Stewart and his Daily Show make their home. Comedy Central who bashed corporate big wigs and banks without blinking an eye, even though many of the advertisers on the show were the same companies at which Stewart was taking shots.
Apparently, comedians are the only people who can still tell the truth. The jester’s hat the only one that allows a person to unabashedly report what’s going on in the world. It’s sad. But thank God for Jon Stewart. I’ll take my news from that jester like him any day. I just wish the “real news” people could take his example and serve us, instead of themselves.

Monkey Business

2009-02-27T06:31:00.002-06:00

Dear American Public,

While the economy is in ruins, the war in Iraq goes on and unemployment rates are skyrocketing your elected officials in the House of Representatives have spent the last few days debating legislation of the transport of monkys across state lines.

Those are your hard earned tax dollars at work.

They are literally, working on monkey business. This is how very little they respect the American people, their constituents. We worry about our lives, our jobs, our economy, our war and they debate whether or not it should be legal to transport a monkey across state lines.

Those of you who voted for change should know that electing a new King won't do the trick. If you want change, maybe you need to find out who your representative is and give him or her a call, write a letter or send an email telling them that you don't appreciate them worrying about monkeys when you're having trouble putting food on the table.

Just a thought. Have a nice day.

-AR

Grand Old Party Poopers

2009-02-24T22:17:00.001-06:00

After watching the new President, Barack Obama, give his address to the nation tonight, I was set to go to bed without comment. Then there was the Republican Response and…

Well, I’m sorry, but I just can’t help myself. Oh, how the mighty have fallen and that chaos that is now the Republican Party has become a sad, sad mess. I realize all too well the irony of someone from Illinois criticizing the governor of anyone else’s state, but wow Louisanna! Your governor talks like someone who just finished his Hooked on Phonics course study!

And the Republican Response he gave was less of a response than it certainly was some camera time for an up and comer in the New Grand Old Party. It seems that in the huddle that must have occurred after President Obama was elected, the consensus must have been this: WE NEED SOME BROWN PEOPLE! DO WE HAVE ANY BROWN PEOPLE? SURELY WE HAVE TO HAVE A BROWN GUY OUT THERE SOMEWHERE!!!!

Sure enough, they found a brown guy to be the Republican Chairman and now they have a brown guy giving the Republican Response after President Obama’s speech today. This particular brown guy is Governor Robert Jindal and he’s the Hindu-reformed-to-Catholicism kind of brown. The result of the “do we have a brown guy” huddle produced some sad results indeed. Nothing against former Hindus, but I just don’t see a huge voting swing based on the Hindu vote in 2012. Still, the Repubs needed to show some diversity and some youth. They decided they needed to trot out a pony who wasn’t a pasty white guy. They had bupkiss in Congress, and had to settle for Jindal.

And what a sad choice it was too! Governor Jindal stepped up to the podium and told us about how Obama’s big government approach was a disaster waiting to happen and even had the nerve to compare it to the idiotic government response to Hurricane Katrina. (I believe the kids at this point do something called *facepalm*)

It takes balls to stand up in front of America and liken the then Republican-controlled government’s poor response to Katrina, to the now Democrat-controlled government’s plan to bail out the economy that the Repubs helped drive into the ground. I was left with my mouth hanging open. Governor Jindal, it must take a forklift to help you carry those cojones around sir!

I am not a believer in big government myself, but after eight years of Republican power in the executive branch, paired with 6 of those years during which there was Republican power in the legislative branch and the colossal failure that resulted, I’m ready to give another idea a chance. I’m willing to step back and admit that less, less, less, less, less government is not the key to fixing the economy as it stands today. Governor Jindal, on one hand apologized for that Republican clusterfuck, and in the very next breath, told you to trust the Republicans in Congress (most of whom are leftovers from the Bush years). I believe at this point, the kids are doing what they would call *headdesk*

Perhaps the greatest insult is that Governor Jindal’s state of Louisiana was offered $3.8 billion dollars of the recovery plan money. Governor Jindal accepted $3.7 billion of it. For those of you who are slow at math, like me, that’s just $1 million he’s turning down. He’s standing up in front of the country and telling everyone how bad Obama’s plan is and then taking almost all of the money his state is being offered? That smacks of hypocrisy to me.

Is this truly the great brown hope of the new, exciting, cutting edge, hip and cool Republican Party? If it is, I’m sad to say that Obama could let trained monkeys run the country for the rest of his term and still win re-election in 2012. I say this not because I want to see President Obama out, but because our government is at it’s best when both parties are full of intelligent and capable leaders.

The Grand Old Party is trying to change it’s image. They see that the Democrats got a young, charismatic, brown guy elected and have started trotting out their own. It strikes me that they prioritize the young, charismatic and brown above the capable and intelligent. Sadly, Governor Jindal was the best they could do. He came off like a buffoon. Trust me. I’m from Illinois. I know what a buffoon governor looks and sounds like.

Asterisk *

2009-02-11T06:15:00.000-06:00

The big news is that Alex Rodriguez has admitted that, for a few years, earlier in his career, he did, in fact, use performance-enhancing drugs. I have to be honest. I just don’t care anymore. I’m just over it all. There are three major reasons why: The first is that the damage is done, the era is tarnished and from this point forward, it’s just a Salem-style witch hunt so that we can point fingers and ridicule the damned.

Second, is the fact that steroid use was not against the rules in baseball during the period during which drug use was so prevalent. There were positive tests and no punishments. No one cared. If it wasn’t against the rules, then how can we be so outraged over it?

And finally, it seems a little hypocritical of us to sit in judgment of these people. We all use performance-enhancing drugs.

The asterisk is the great symbol of this campaign against performance-enhancing drugs. Does that mean that a woman should shout out, “Asterisk!!!” post-coitus if her man used Viagra or Cialis? After all, he enhanced his performance didn’t he? Some men use those drugs to keep playing after their bodies decide it’s time for them to retire. Sound familiar?

Should your boss, at your annual review, mark your glowing report with an asterisk? After all, he or she has sat silently by and watched you bring your performance-enhancing drug, coffee, into the office every single day. No, they didn’t dare say anything. That one time you were running late and didn’t have time to stop for your coffee was lesson enough for them. You were a mess! You didn’t function properly until after noon. Without your coffee, you’re only good for half a work day—if that!

Should your salary be cut because you used a performance-enhancing drug? Should they take back that Employee of the Month plaque they gave you? After all, you used chemicals to be more effective in what you do. You cheated. Some poor sap in your office who doesn’t drink coffee and was a bit more sleepy in the mornings lost out on that award because of your use.

And college kids are going to need to be tested. The use of Ritalin and other drugs that help kids focus is through the roof. Kids that were diagnosed with attention deficit disorders make huge cash selling off extra pills on campus to fellow students pulling all nighters. Does that A you received deserve an asterisk? It’s not real after all. It’s the product of a substance you used that allowed you to study all night and achieve that grade. You didn’t do it on your own.

And the list goes on. It amazes me that we, as a society, can be so offended by our athletes using these performance-enhancing drugs when we regular folk so happily and unthinkingly use anything we can to get an edge.

It’s amazing that we so strongly and ardently defend the integrity of a game, but are so lax when it comes to personal integrity. Every man whose ever used that little blue pill should be ashamed, should he not? Every coffee drinker contrite for sins committed against their co-workers? This drug use is the byproduct of our culture. We’ll do anything to get ahead, won’t we?

We’ll cheat a cashier out of some extra change accidentally given to us. We’ll take credit for a project that was done by people under us at work. We’ll use that credit to get a promotion and a raise. Do we deserve asterisks?

I think that the things we so vehemently rage against are the things that hit closest to home and this steroid scandal is just such a case. We see these athletes making millions of dollars and we want to hold them to a standard higher than the ones we hold ourselves to don’t we?

We treat life like a competition. We compete for the nicest, biggest house, the most attractive spouse, the boat, the cottage on the lake, the biggest and best toys. We compete for these trophies and we’ll do what it takes to earn them, to show them to our neighbors and lord our boons over them. And what do we say when someone has more than we do? What excuse do we use?

We fall back on our supposed integrity. We reason that we can have what they do, if only we had been willing to do what they did to get it—to cross the same lines. This isn’t about drugs. It isn’t about stats or integrity or any of that. It’s about watching the mighty fall. It’s the enjoyment of watching someone once held so highly esteemed, now reduced to nothing.
Reduced to nothing, in this case, by asterisk-wielding hypocrites.

Here's to Sully, the asshole

2009-02-09T11:38:00.003-06:00

Is it just me or is anyone else picking up on the fact that this pilot, Captain Chesley Sullenburger, who made the miraculous splashdown landing of a U.S. Airways flight in the Hudson river, just might be an asshole?

I’ve gone through a few different stages regarding the pilot known as Sully and after watching the 60 Minutes interview with Katie Couric, I’ve officially reached the asshole conclusion. First, I was impressed. Let’s face it, his act of heroism is undeniable. If I’m going up in a plane, I want this guy flying it. And it just may be the fact that he’s an asshole that makes him such a great pilot, so I’m not saying that he’s a bad person, just—you know, kind of a dick.

After being impressed, I went to admiration. He seemed to be avoiding the limelight. He didn’t want the attention. He just did his job. That stirred my admiration. Here’s a guy who is content to have done his job, had his fifteen minutes without shameless self-promotion and move on with his life. Yes. At this point, I was shouting from the rooftops that I admire and respected this man, as both a pilot and a human being.

Then came the Super Bowl. They trotted him out there with the crew of the plane. I was surprised. I thought this guy was avoiding the limelight. I thought he was content with his silent 15 minutes of fame. Then I thought: Wait. Free tickets to the Super Bowl? Okay, he’s a guy!!!! I’d let them trot me out like a prized pony for free Super Bowl tickets too! No problems there Sully, you’re still admirable and respected!

But then came the sit down with Couric and I got the distinct impression that if I was on this guy’s crew, I couldn’t go more then ten minutes before they’d have to pull me off of him. He’s kind of…smarmy! He reminds me of the kind of military man who never quite leaves the military behind.

Now look, I understand that not everyone is cut out for public life and interview-giving and actually being in the limelight, and that even a guy whose cool enough to land an engineless plane in a river can crack under the lights of Hollywood, but he didn’t crack. If he had stammered or been uncomfortable in the least, I’d have chalked him up as human and gone on with my life.

He wasn’t being human though; he was being inhuman. He was being robotic. If you consent to giving an interview and the interviewer asks you a leading question, you don’t answer with a yes or no and a stare challenging them to follow it up. I came away thinking, wow, some poor kid has to have him for a father. I came away thinking that this is the kind of guy who rouses his family at 5 a.m. every morning for family calisthenics. He came off like a soldier being interrogated by the enemy. Name, rank and serial number.

I can sense the righteous indignation rising up in my readership. This man saved lives!!!! I know, I know. I'm not saying that he's a bad person. I'm not saying that he is anything less than a hero. I'm not saying that he doesn't deserve all the accolades and kudos he's getting. I'm just saying, that when you listen to the guy speak, he's...kind of prickish.

So, yeah. I think Sully just might be an asshole. It's okay, there are worse things to be. After all, it takes one to know one and I know that Sully is an asshole. I'm just happy to see an good, old-fashioned, honest-to-goodness asshole being paraded around as the toast of the town. It gives assholes all over the world reason to hope...hope that our time, has finally come.

Last Dance for Mary Jane

2009-02-05T15:41:00.002-06:00

I, like everyone else apparently, am greatly ashamed and horrified by the actions of our Olympic Golden Boy, Michael Phelps. Unlike everyone else apparently, I’m greatly ashamed and horrified by the way he put his tail between his legs and whimpered about how sorry he was for his inappropriate behavior after a picture of him smoking marijuana from a bong was printed in a British tabloid.

If you’ve seen the picture, you’ll infer from it I’m sure, as I certainly did, that this isn’t the first time or the 420th time even that the golden boy has taken old Mary Jane out for a date. With the evidence quickly plastered on every website and blog around the world though, Phelps became a meek, apologetic, cowering fool.

So much for the Superman image he had after his Olympic glory.

It seems the many corporate sponsorships he had took precedence over everything else and he hasn’t stopped apologizing since. I have to wonder though, if he and I were sitting alone in a room and off the record I asked him if he really thought he did something wrong, whether or not he’d still be apologizing so effusively.

He’s been citing his age, immaturity and poor judgment as the identifiable fatal flaws that led him down this lowly path. He has raised his hand, shown the Boy Scout salute and promised to be better in the future, and meanwhile, his generation groans.

Cojones shouldn’t be difficult to find for a man who wears a speedo to work. And had Michael Phelps given the world his honest, real answer to all of this, if he had decided to not kowtow to the almighty dollar and the national sense of honor, he just might have found out that by being bold, might powers may have indeed come to his aid.

We’re left to believe that Michael Phelps, shown in that photo sucking on a bong like it was air and he was under water, was a one-time offender. We’re asked to collectively pretend that this was an isolated case of poor judgment. And when he says the words to assure us of just that, we sigh, shake our fingers at the silly rascal and head comfortably back to our delusions or heroism.

What’s so wrong with admitting that yes, Michael, you do occasionally like to smoke pot? What’s wrong with saying that the mellow of smoking a little chronic to the A.D.D. generation—and Phelps does have A.D.D.--is no different than the buzz of a few beers was to the one before? If it had been pictures of him shotgunning a beer, the news story wouldn’t have gotten much more than a passing mention. There would be no controversy. It’s the cannsbis we’re all so worked up over.

And regardless of what your feelings may be on the subject, the time for a serious discussion about it’s legalization is long overdue. Just because you choose to believe it isn’t around every corner, at every party your children attend, in every school, doesn’t mean that it isn’t. It’s use, like a weed, has grown and thrived.

Phelps could have stood up, looked us all in the eyes and told us that he is the greatest Olympian of all time and that he is also a marijuana user. He could have said that he uses this non-addictive method to help chill out after intense workouts, after pressure-filled competitions, as a means of coping with attention deficit and that he isn’t ashamed of it. He could have stood up and told the world that he was still the same boy next door they had all been so proud of a few months before. Nothing had changed—in fact, he was simply being like the real boy next door now.

He could have stood tall and refused to think of what he was doing as shameful or wrong. He could have stood up to those who felt it was and asked them if his hard work, his dedication or his spirit had been effected? He had the image that coupled with a real message could have affected change for his generation.

Me? After reading this you may be surprised to find out that I’m not a fan of marijuana. It just holds no interest for me. That said, it doesn’t stop me from having my eyes open as I walk through this world. It’s here. It’s here to stay. People Phelps age use it like other generations have used beer or cigarettes. It’s everywhere. Superman, the golden boy Olympic swimmer could have brought about a serious discussion about its place in our society. Instead, he bowed and scraped. Heroes: Just another thing you can add to the list of things that aren’t what they used to be.
It’s sad. We could have used a good kick in the ass about the subject.

...your father's brother's nephew's cousin's former roommate

2009-02-01T15:00:00.002-06:00

As things have unfolded over the past few weeks, and the Governor of my home state of Illinois has finally been removed, I’ve remained silent on the subject because some targets are just too easy. How do you lampoon a caricature? I mean, we’ve always had a good chuckle over Hot Rod Blagojevich’s hair, but as long as he was standing in the way of tax increases, installing open road tolling to make our commutes shorter, making medications cheaper for senior citizens and really doing a lot of great things for the state of Illinois, we really didn’t mind that much that he looked like a cartoon character.

Honestly, until this mess about selling Obama’s Senate seat came to light, most people thought he was doing a pretty decent job of being the governor. We looked at his hair and met it with a chuckle instead of an outright laugh. It’s okay to be funny looking in Illinois politics if you do a good job. Look no further than former senator Paul Simon for that proof.

And the truth of the matter is that until the scandal hit, Blagojevich didn’t go around acting like an ass either. He was typically well-spoken, poised and lucid. Sure, there were whispers of corruption, but it’s impossible to a politician in this state and not have corruption whispers. Hell, not long ago Chicago—the political corruption capitol of the world, arrogantly made it’s slogan, “The City that Works,” in what could only be a veiled reference to the fact that the system of corruption in place was a well-oiled, efficiently running machine.

Illinois residents aren’t really upset that Blago tried to sell Obama’s seat, though we’re not thrilled about the fact that he tried to extort one of our newspapers and a children’s hospital. We’re pissed that he, A) got caught, and B) acted like such as asshole after being caught.

The getting caught part is inexcusable and stupid. Richard Daley, the mayor of Chicago has been more crooked than a basket full of S’s throughout his long career as the mayor here. He gets things done though. He’s going to bring the Olympics to Chicago. He keeps our streets cleared of snow. He fills the potholes in front of our homes (as long as you’re a registered Democrat). Are there sweetheart deals in place regarding each of those things? Of course! Do we care? Nope. Will Daley ever find himself in a Blago-like mess? Of course not! Why? Because you can bet your sweet ass that while he waves the baton and conducts the orchestra, he’s always three or four steps away from the crime.

That’s what being a good politician means here. Get shit done. Keep the price tag low. We won’t ask. You don’t tell. Don’t make us look stupid. And that was Blagojevich’s second mistake. When he got caught with his hand in the cookie jar instead of having his cookies delivered to him, he went apeshit crazy!

When you look like a cartoon, you can’t afford to talk like one and that is precisely what Blago did. It took me a while to place it, but eventually I’ve gotten a handle on it. The absurd speech, the complete lack of sense and reason, the self-proclaimed martyrdom, the delusions of grandeur, the hairmet—he went from being the governor to being the Rick Moranis character Dark Helmet from the Mel Brooks movie Spaceballs.

Coincidentally, when the leader of your state is running around, appearing on talk shows, howling at the moon and doing an impression of a Mel Brooks character, it’s pretty much the epitome of embarrassment for his constituents. And when the constituency is anchored by a city that disdainfully accepts the nickname of Second City and constantly puffs it’s collective chest when it betters any other American city in any way—you’ve officially committed the most unforgivable of sins.

And now we have a new governor. After Dark Helmet was removed from office by unanimous vote and banned from ever holding office in our state again, Patrick Quinn took over and promptly assured us all that corruption was over and better times were ahead. He told us that we the citizens of Illinois would have to sacrifice to clear up the $3 million in state debt, and then without blinking an eye, approved $30,000 to remove Dark Helmet’s name from every sign on every tollway in the state.

This move has been widely applauded. Better to pay the boys some overtime and have them remove signs over the weekend than to suffer a little more embarrassment by having to read Blagojevich’s name on the way to work. A state in debt happily pays to expunge it’s association with a caricature of a governor. We go a little further into debt. We’ll be asked to sacrifice a little bit more to clear it up. It almost makes you wonder if perhaps a cartoon state didn’t deserve a cartoon sheriff?

From the Latin, sarcasmus

2009-01-19T13:17:00.001-06:00

Tomorrow is the inauguration of Barack Obama as The United States of America’s 44th President. Don’t feel bad if you didn’t know that, the whole deal hasn’t gotten a lot of publicity. The poor guy is taking office tomorrow, swearing on a Bible to uphold the constitution and it’s like no one has even noticed.

The press, usually so gung-ho to find a story and beat it to death, hasn’t muttered a single word about the day. I’ve yet to see a single commemorative item to mark the occasion. It’s like the election back in November never even happened.

It’s kind of sad really. Here this guy ran such a great campaign and won the presidency and now that’s he’s on the cusp of taking over, he’s being completely ignored. If only there were some kind of historical precedence being set here! If only Obama was the first left-handed president, or the first president from Illinois, but alas, Obama is as plain as unbuttered toast. Absolutely nothing sets him apart from all the others who have held the position.

And Obama’s constituents are the very definition of apathetic. He could wear bells all over his suit tomorrow and walk out there blowing a shrill whistle and I doubt anyone would take notice. It’s like the guy is invisible.

What’s worse is that we know nothing of what he’s been up to since the election. For all we know he could have been building a giant replica of himself using an old Lego set or catching flies with chopsticks. No one has said a word about what he’s been up to!

At least the guy doesn’t have any expectations following him into the job. I mean, he could take a four-year nap and no one would really notice. The country is in the best shape it’s ever been in and things are so good that no matter what he does things will be okay.

I just feel bad for the guy. Would it really kill us to come together and show the guy some love? Would it kill the great and powerful celebrities of our nation to make a fuss over him and help the guy out with a little self-esteem boost? Would it kill the newspapers, magazines and television shows to give the guy some props?

I, for one, happen to think that the inauguration of a new President is a big deal and would like to see just a bit of coverage. I wish they could find just one unique thing about him to help make the occasion a little more special. I wish people would just pay a little attention to what’s going on!

Sadly, I just don’t think we have it in us. We’re so broken up about the departure of President Bush that we’ve hardly even noticed the new guy. We’re so content with the pure awesomeness of the state of our union that we can’t find it in ourselves to get worked up over a change in leadership. Our economy is so stable; our foreign relations so tight, our domestic safety so complete that its hard to have much emotion regarding a new guy because there really isn’t anything for him to do.

Well, the mainstream press may not cover the inauguration and you’ll probably go the entire day without someone mentioning it to you, but as always, you can count on me to be here, ready to point the way to events you should be keeping your eyes on. So, take a moment tomorrow and enjoy the swearing in of our next President. Find something about the occasion worth getting excited about—even if you have to completely manufacture it. These things only happen every four years, so enjoy it while you can.
Here’s to inauguration day and to President Elect Barack Obama. You may be completely uninteresting and not newsworthy in any way, you may lack any kind of remarkability at all sir, but I am standing up and taking notice of the fact that you become President tomorrow, even if I, like the cheese, stand alone.

Application for Serial Killer Murder Victim

2009-01-13T19:34:00.002-06:00

Application for Serial Killer Murder Victim

Name: Christina Raines
Age: 23
Marital Status: Engaged to be married
Children: 2
Are your children available for murder as well: yes

Preferred Serial Killer: Drew Peterson
&nb sp;
Qualifications: (please list)

I.Q. of 0
Willingness to sleep with and marry killer
Desperate need to be famous
Complete lack of welfare for my children
Likes “bad boys”
Willing to alienate parents, family and friends
Abi lity to look at naked creepy old guys without gagging
Enjoys long hot baths in ankle deep water
Dependably unreliable, including going missing for long periods of time

Please explain why you should be selected: I’m like totally hot and young and dumber than a box of retarded hair, so I think I’d make the perfect wife and future victim for Mr. Peterson. I’ll do as I’m told at first until the media attention subsides, at which time I’ll start acting up so Mr. Peterson can take a few swats at me before losing all patience and killing me in some totally cool and gruesome way like they do on C.S.I. which is like my favorite show in the whole world. I have kids, which I realize might crimp Mr. Peterson’s style a little bit, but as an added bonus, when he kills me, he could totally bring his number of victims up by 3 instead of just one when he gets tired of me!

In closing, I think I’d make the perfect bride/victim for Mr. Peterson and willing to do anything to prove it!

So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish!

2009-01-12T20:25:00.000-06:00

George W. Bush gave his final press conference today as President of the United States of America and I, for one (and I could be alone here), will miss him. For someone who enjoys writing as much I do, with a humorous spin whenever possible, Bush has been a godsend that won’t easily be replaced. It makes for a good time to look back upon his Presidency though, and to look forward to what lies ahead for our next President.

From the point of view of a humorist, Bush’s many faux pas and foibles have been vitamin rich in opportunities to ridicule and torment. Rarely has a week gone by in the past 5 or 6 years when he hasn’t done something worthy of a jab or a dig. From his mispronounifications of words to his goofy grins and expressions, Bush has provided a continuous and ever-present butt for any and all jokers.

From the point of a political analy st, the loss is equally as significant. Right or wrong, regardless of which side of any particular issue you may have come down on, Bush has provided lots of fodder for debate, discussion and in many cases, blatant outrage. His policies and procedures have been in almost constant question since he took office. He has been at the center of political and social debate for eight long years now and it’s been a full eight years with a seemingly nonstop train of issues and consequences.

What I’ll miss the most about him though is the ignorance. Not his ignorance, but the absolute and blissful ignorance the American public, and the world at large for that matter, had regarding his decisions, actions and politics. I think that Bush, unlike anyone before and as no one in the foreseeable future has been the president of perception.

To many, he has been a clown prince and political buffoon. He has been the scapegoat for many things that have happened which were far beyond his control. To many, any decision he has ever made has been completely and unquestionably indefensible. His detractors are many and they almost uniformly fail to find a single good thing to say about him, or point out a single good thing he’s ever done.

This, of course, is ridiculous. Not liking a president is one thing, not agreeing with him more often than not is certainly understandable, but President Bush has been vilified to an alarming and unbelievable extent. There are actual people who side against certain issues just because Bush favors them—regardless of the facts. I can’t think of a single idea that more fervently betrays democracy than that one.

I happen to believe that history will much kinder to Bush than we have been. I imagine he’ll be long gone before anyone will care to look at his presidency objectively, but an objective eye is going to see that the past eight years have been a failing of the governed, far more than they have been a failure of the government.

I don’t mean to come off as a defender of President Bush. I’m afraid that his second term has been a disaster and that much of the criticism he’s gotten has been warranted. The idea that everything he’s done has been bad, that he’s a bad person, that he’s evil, that he’s manipulated the people and the government for personal gain and personal reasons is simply foolish. How quickly and conveniently we forget that there are three branches to government. How quickly and conveniently we forget that we elect the officials who preside over that government.

The most glaring part of the past eight years is the absolute lack of culpability the American people have felt. Some will point out the disputed results of the 2004 election without giving a thought to the fact that had things gone the other way, those results would have been as justly disputed as they stand now. They use that election as a get out of jail free card for all that has happened since, pointing out that their ability to affect change was stolen from them, making it convenient to give up entirely on the political process.

And that, in a nutshell is the problem. Democracy is founded on the principle of a fighting people, a people so hungry for freedom and justice that they would stop at nothing to see to it that those ideals were consistently perpetrated. We are a lazy people though and find it much easier to whine than to do when things go against what we want.

Over the past eight years, ignorance has reigned, not in the seat of the Presidency, but in the minds of the people. The most common ignorant idea is that the war in Iraq is entirely about oil, yet while every and any anti-Bush propagandist uses this as a staple of their beliefs, I’ve yet to find a single person who can explain to me the actual benefit or gain that Bush hoped to achieve in this Oil War. I’ve yet to find an adequate explanation as to why the vote to go to war in Iraq was so lopsided? The Senate, working from the same false intelligence that Bush did voted overwhelmingly to go to war, and have escaped any and all culpability for that action.

Again, it is not my intention to let Bush off, but I have to wonder why he alone faces the consequences of that decision? I have to wonder why he takes the blame for poor intelligence? I have to wonder why he alone takes the blame for the poor military strategy we took? The indictment should have reached into our military, our intelligence community, the two other branches of executive government and to the citizenry, but it never has and until a far removed historian is able to look back at the times, probably never will.

In the end, the same things that made him such a convenient target to humorists made him an easy scapegoat for all that went wrong. Our forefathers specifically created a government where one person could not rule as the monarchs of Europe once did, but that never stopped us from lopping every imaginable blame for any possible problem in the lap of one man.

Worse, we now assign the task of making everything all better in the lap of our next President. We don’t want to participate, we want someone to wave a wand and make it all better. The expectations and hopes for President Elect Obama are so incredibly unfair that it’s staggering. His election has many crying out against some of his ideas that lean towards Socialism, but what we should all be worrying about is the very real threat and reality that we are so unappreciative of our liberties that we are willing to allow them to be taken from us.

Say, for instance that Obama works miracles and turns things around quickly. Say that he leads us to four and then eight years of prosperity. Say that the country is happy and fat and content under his Presidency. Say that older generations die and younger generations replace them and the day comes when a choice is given to us about the possibility of allowing a president a 3rd term because we are so happy with him—then even a 4th.

Such a short step it would be to absolute p ower, to dictatorship, to monarch rule. If we are so willing to place blame on one man as our scapegoat, surely we are equally willing to place glory at the feet of another as our savior. The precipice at which we stand is a precarious one. We fail to remember our history—a history of scapegoats, appeasement and absolute power that led to genocide as recently as World War II—and one false step could leave us doomed to repeat it.
Say what you will about George W. Bush as our President. Say what you will about Barack Obama as our next. But please, understand that no one person could ever screw it all up, or put it all back together again. If you believe either of those things is possible, you are a fool, you are ignorant, you the problem. Our government allows only one finger to every be justly pointed in blame, and that is our thumb—opposable, supposed proof of evolution, and yet curiously absent in this discussio n, as are the lessons of history, begging the question, just how evolved are we really?

When Softdrinks Lose Validity

2009-01-07T19:34:00.002-06:00

So, I was in McDonalds for lunch yesterday and it was one of those ones where you fill your own drink (because it takes entirely too much effort for the McPloyee behind the counter to do it). I filled my drink up and sat down eat my McNuggets and read and didn’t give it another thought, until I went to get a refill on my way out. It was only then that I noticed this sign.

REFILLS ARE ONLY VALID FOR DURATION OF STAY!

Now dictionary.com defines the word valid as such: 1. sound; just; well founded 2. producing the desired result; effective 3. having force, weight or cogency; authoritative 4. legally sound, effective or binding 5. logic so constructed that if the premesis are jointly asserted, the conclusion cannot be denied without contradiction 6. archaic. Robust; well; healthy

Fortunately, I knew the definition of the word valid before I looked it up though, so as I stood there at the soda fountain, I pondered what the sign was trying to tell me.

If I refilled my drink and left would my drink lose it’s reason? Would it stop producing the result of refreshing me? Would it lose it’s authority to refresh me? Would my drink become illegal?

Surely not! I didn’t think my Diet Coke was an existentialist soft drink. If I refilled it and walked outside, I was fairly certain it wasn’t going to say to me, “Al, why am I here?” And if it had, after pissing myself from freight, I would have simply said, “shut up and get in mah belly!”

I can’t imagine the physical properties of the drink changing so that it was no longer refreshing to me once outside the confines of the McDonalds and I know for a fact that it’s within my legal right to drink a soft drink in public.

Hmmm. And why is it that refills lose their validity after the duration of stay, but no such warning is given about prefills? Are prefills somehow able to counteract the effects that make refills invalid outside the premesis? I may be a smart guy, but I had to admit defeat in this case. A brighter mind than my own was needed in order to solve this conundrum, after all, I had just refilled my drink and intended to take it outside, the duration of my stay was at an end and I certainly didn’t want to be drinking an invalid Diet Coke out in public where it might harm myself or others.

So, I decided to go to the source of knowledge I frequently turn to when life’s greater mysteries have me stumped, to the sage of our time, the wisest of the wise. Of course, I’m talking about the shift manager at the McDonalds. I asked for her at the counter and the McPloyee fetched her for me.

I explained to her that I was worried about my drink. I had just refilled it when I noticed the sign that says it loses its validity when the duration of my stay was completed. My stay, tragically, was at an end though. I needed to get back to work. So, I asked her what would happen to the drink once I took it outside. She said that I couldn’t do that. I asked why not? She said it was against the rules and pointed at the sign.

I told her that I didn’t see a rule, I saw a statement of fact and it was the fact about which I was inquiring. She insisted it was a rule though. So, I took a step back and asked her to explain to me about the change in validity of the drink outside of her beautiful restaurant (though I didn’t call it beautiful to her face because I thought that might be a bit condescending). She simply replied that I couldn’t take a refill outside, which did nothing to help me discover anything about the drink losing its validity.

I tried another tactic. I asked her if I hadn’t refilled my drink and I was still drinking my original drink, would that drink still be valid after the duration of my stay? She replied that it would be.

I followed up by asking why a prefill should have validity in the outside world but not a refill seeing as they have the same physical properties and all. At this point, I could tell she was getting a little agitated with me (it can’t be easy running such a glorious eating establishment, especially one in which the laws of physics and reason don’t always seem to apply). She told me that if I left with a refill that I would be stealing.

But I paid for the drink, I insisted! It came as a part of my Value Meal! Surely it could not be stolen if I paid for it! She told me though, that I paid for the original drink, the refill was stolen. So, I asked if all refills were stolen and she said that no, refills that were consumed while I was still on the premesis were okay.

So, I asked if it was only illegal for me to take my refill outside? YES, she exasperatedly replied. What happens to people who go outside with refills, I asked? And she told me that they call the police on them.

Finally, she asked me to leave when I responded by asking if the police had a machine that could check to see if the drink was a valid prefill or an invalid refill. I was a bit upset that she was upset with me for simply asking questions, but an even greater problem loomed. I was holding a refill that would become invalid and illegal the moment I walked out that door. I told her so.

She just pointed at the door and told me to take it with me. I’ll be honest, I was a bit scared. Here I was, about the cross the threshold of soft drink validity—whatever that might be with an apparently stolen softdrink! And to make matters worse, there was a cop car in the drive thru line! I was doomed! But the big, mean lady with four inch long hot pink nails said I had to go and she had told me to take the drink with me!

I have to tell you, I just don’t get as much exercise as I used to, but as the saying goes, I’m not as good as I once was, but I’m as good once, as I ever was. Well it’s true! I’m not fast anymore, but I was FAST yesterday. Usain Bolt couldn’t have kept up with me as I scampered to the car, fired her up and peeled out of there. I didn’t want there to be any injuries to innocent bystanders when my drink lost it’s validity and I definitely didn’t want to be arrested by the cop in the drive thru for Grand Theft Soft Drink!

My heart raced! I was sweating like crazy. I gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles and drove like Matt Damon in a Bourne movie (which is to say that I hit like 7 cars but always fortuitously bounced away to safety). I made it back to work in record time. It appreared I had evaded the police! I was in the clear!!!

Only one thing remained. Regardless of the potential outcome, I had to test the validity of my stolen drink. I knew that the consequences could be disasterous. The sign’s warning was clear, but my insatiable hunger for knowledge would not be assuaged. I braced myself, took a breath, put the straw to my lips and I sucked.

I gave it a moment. I wanted to by hypersensitive to any change that may have occurred in the drinks validity, but after my harrowing flight from the authorities, I was panting and thirsty and the first thing I noticed was that my invalid drink was really, really, really refreshing! If I have to be honest, it seemed even more valid now that the duration of my stay at McDonalds had come to an end. When I was there, sure it was nice to wash down a stray bit of McNugget with my drink, but now…now I was parched from my escape and the bubbly goodness of the drink felt SOOOOOO GOOOOD going down my throat!

It turned out that the drink wasn’t invalid at all! Those McDonalds people must have been lying to me! It sure as hell produced the desired result when I sipped it! First, I was panting and parched and now I wasn’t! Woo hoo!

So, my friends, the moral of the story is this: Never trust the validity of a sign hung on a soda fountain at McDonalds. I’ve decided that those people aren’t as smart as we all give them credit for being!

Dear Facebook Moms

2009-01-06T18:53:00.000-06:00

One of the best parts about the whole Facebook breastfeeding controversy is that its one of the rare occasions when boobs are in the news for something other than having cancer and we’re all free to talk about them for a while without coming off as too pervy. To that end, I’m going to stay on topic for another day and pose a question to the mothers who are posting these pictures of themselves nursing their babies.

I’m still not taking sides here. I still don’t care if you plaster pics of yourselves breastfeeding all over the place, but just how grossed out is your kid going to be in 16 years when he comes across that picture? Seeing pictures of yourself as a baby breastfeeding make those naked toddler in a bathtub with the neighbor kid pictures like a Disney cartoon.

Forget for a moment that it’s this beautiful thing that mothers and babies share. And forget how much you may love these pictures. Start thinking about the little Oedipal Serial Killer you’re raising and how many women who look like you are going to have to get their boobs chopped off by your psycho son after the trauma he experiences of seeing himself doing to you, what he’s been desperately trying to get his teenage girlfriend to let him do for months!

I don’t know what it would be like for a girl. Probably strange, but I know that no guy ever wants to be exposed to that kind of thing. I can guarantee you that one person out there is going to side with Facebook on this one, labeling your breastfeeding photo as obscene: that’s right…it’s the cute little baby in that picture you love so much moms!

Its one thing for a kid to know that he nursed. He can process that information and get on with the rest of his life with only minor side effects, such as speaking to women’s breasts like they were microphones, or spending inordinate amounts of time in titty bars and be happily ignorant of any Oedipal origins that might cause that behavior, but when you give him the imagery to go with it, you’re essentially lighting the fuse on a trauma bomb. He may never be able to happily gaze at a boob again! You could be ruining his entire life! Sure, if you subtract boob-watching from his daily schedule, he’s going to have a LOT more time on his hands, but the consequences will be disastrous!

If you make boobs creepy for your son, there just isn’t any reason for him to ever find a nice girl and get married. Once boobs are out of the picture, guys aren’t going to put up with women! We’re not going to be late for parties because you can’t get your hair right. When you ask if a piece of clothing makes you look fat, we’ll be honest because we really don’t care about the consequences, and you can bet your asses that we won’t ever talk about our feelings! In fact, without boobs, there just isn’t any reason at all for any guy to be in a relationship. Your kid is going to give up, buy a blow up doll and spend his time the way he really wants to, watching SportsCenter in holey underwear, scratching himself, farting and burping to his heart’s content.

But by all means, show your pictures! I mean, it’s only the internet; it’s not like he could ever come across them. Even if you don’t directly show them to him, I’m sure there won’t be any accidents where he finds them. He won’t ever drive his bio-friendly hovercraft over to your house when he’s 30 to help you with your new computer, see a file called Baby Pictures, open it and become hopelessly impotent. It’s all good. Right?

Wrong! Have a heart Facebook moms! And make your choice while you’re at it. His psychologist is going to blame you for everything anyway, but do you really want the doc to be right? Freud is rolling over in his grave! For the love of God, put ‘em away ladies and leave the camera on the shelf until that fateful day when your kid takes a bath with your best friend’s kid and it’s just too cute to not photograph. That picture alone is enough trauma for us to overcome. Don’t add to it. Okay?

Faceboob

2009-01-05T19:35:00.000-06:00

I’m absolutely loving the controversy on Facebook over the obscenity or lack thereof, when it comes to women showing pictures of themselves breastfeeding their babies. I’ll be upfront at the outset, I don’t really care about the issue itself, but I just can’t help but sit back, laugh and enjoy the ride when political correctness collides with political correctness. There’s just something very satisfying about it.

For those of you who may be unfamiliar, breastfeeding photos have become something of an in vogue art form. And it’s hard to argue with the idea of there being a more maternal image out there than a baby suckling. The problem is that a lot of mothers are having pictures of themselves breastfeeding and posting them on their Facebook pages.

When you sign up for Facebook, you agree not to post any objectionable or obscene images. With Facebook being as huge as it is, they can’t monitor every single picture uploaded, so they must rely on users reporting objectionable material and when a picture is reported, a Facebook staff member looks it over to see if it violates their policy.

Living, as we do, in an age where making objective, reasonable decisions is an obsolete skill, Facebook has to have certain rules so that their staffers will know what is obscene and what isn’t obscene. Women’s nipples fall into the no-no category. It’s an automatic response. Nipples = violation = removal of the picture from the site.

Well as you might imagine, the mommies are a little upset over the fact that pictures of them breastfeedin g are being termed obscene. Facebook is stuck though, because even if they agree that the act of breastfeeding isn’t obscene, if there is a nipple showing, then the staff viewing the picture would be forced to make a judgment as to each photo’s obscenity level and we’re long past the days when people were capable of actual reason and thought. If rules weren’t laid out with zero tolerance guidelines…well, that would just be anarchy! Personal interpretation of rules and laws, well that’s just so antiquated!

And so, what we’re left with is political correctness vs. political correctness! When political correctness collides with common sense, the winner is always, of course political correctness, but what will happen when different factions of political correctness go to war? The best part is that it seems to be splitting apart people who usually play for the same team! It’s sister vs. sister in the Facebook Civil War!

The idea that the image of a woman breastfeeding is a beautiful, healthy image that is appropriate for anyone of any age to see has feminist origins. The idea that women are exploited on the internet and that nude photos of women are obscene also has feminist roots. It’s hard not to sit back and enjoy the gee golly whiz to heck out of this battle!

Now, I’d be remiss if I failed to mention that by no means do I think feminism is a bad thing. It’s just the example at hand where political correctness is always part of the issue. It could be a story about race, religion or any number of things where this happened and of course, equality between the sexes, races and religions are all extremely important and valid pursuits, but in this instance, the line of what is politically correct and what isn’t is very blurry and many different women=2 0have many different opinions on the matter. In short, it’s not a black and white subject. It’s a shade of gray subject and our society has seen to it that we are completely unprepared for such circumstances.

Facebook has followed the mandates of society and set black and white rules up as to what is and isn’t allowed on their site so that the robots they employ don’t need to factor in any critical thinking to do their jobs. If (a) is true, then action is (b). If (a) is false, then action is (c). There’s no room for interpretation. In this case, a nipple is a nipple is a nipple and while that nipple may be nourishing a child in an act of motherly love, it’s still a nipple and nipples are bad, evil, exploitative; showing them demeans women and offends the sensibilities of God-fearing folk (never mind that He put em there for a reason).

It’s a beautifully constructed and inescapable Catch-22. The situation is a thing of absolute and undeniable beauty! The idea that an image of a woman breastfeeding is obscene is offensive! The idea that an image of a nipple can be shown freely and openly on a site frequented by kids is offensive! Everyone is offended! Woo hoo!

As is often the case with polarized views, each side thinks that they are right and poor robotic Facebook is caught in the middle. They have to stick to their rules or people will have to…*shudder*…think! Because once you allow a nipple to be seen during breastfeeding, you open the door to those who think that a nipple shown artistically is just as beautiful. I mean, you can’t allow a mother to show her nipple and not allow a woman without child to do the same can you? Of course not, all things must be fair and equal! Surely nursing isn’t the only time a nipple is non-pornographic right?
Oh, I hope this fight continues! I hope MySpace publically supports and allows breastfeeding pictures so that Facebook has to make a business decision about allowing them or not. After all, money does talk. Wouldn’t it be great if companies had to blur the line between what is and isn’t allowed? If their employees had to make judgment calls? And won’t it be wonderful when others who want to display loving acts question those judgment calls? Where is the line? Who is to say what is love and what is porn? What is art and what is exploitation? There are armies of rock throwers in forts made of glass lining up for a fight. Sometimes, you just can’t help but love the hoops we make our society jump through as we defy the commandment to judge not, lest we be judged ourselves. It’ll be a fun ride for sure. Enjoy!

Whopper Virgins

2008-12-30T20:06:00.002-06:00

Whenever I see some mega-corporation come out with an amazingly dumb advertising campaign, I can’t help but try to think of the meeting at which that campaign was pitched to them. I just can’t help but imagine all of these stuffy, old, white-haired, pasty guys sitting in a board room somewhere getting all excited about the stroke of genius the folks at the advertising company came up with.

I imagine awkward high-fives, smug smiles, handshakes, back pats and joviality in general. All the while, they have no idea that they just gave the green light to something so horrendously stupid that it defies all logic. Such has to have been the case at the Burger King headquarters when they were pitched the idea of, “The Whopper Virgins!”

In case you’re living under a rock, the Whopper Virgin commercials are a taste test between Burger King’s Whopper and McDonald’s Big Mac as given to people who live in third world countries and have no access to either Burger King or McDonalds. These people are given the name of Whopper Virgins—though, presumably they are Big Mac Virgins too.

You can see how they thought this was a good idea. I mean, I always make my fast food purchasing decisions based on the recommendations of starving people in countries I’ve never heard of before. I’m sure most people do. We drive along, realize that we haven’t eaten in the past hour and half and start thinking to ourselves, wow, I’m famished. If I was a starving person in Nofoodistan who hadn’t eaten a full and decent meal in months, and I had to choose a fast food burger, which one would I choose? Don’t lie. We all have this very thought every time we get hungry and you know it!

In fact, I depend on the preferences of people in Third World countries for help in making many choices. Do I get the 3-ply or the 4-ply extra fluffy toilet paper? Well, I just think to myself, what would someone from Wipemyasswithdryleavesia do? Do I go with the Mountain Mist scented deodorant or the Unscented? Well, I just put myself in the shoes of someone from Dontevenhavesoaphereia and do what they would do. So it only makes sense that when it comes time to choose my artery clogging burger served with special sauce that includes some teenagers popped zit juice, that I consult someone who’s never tasted a burger before.

Oh, the joy those crusty old executives must have felt at the end of the presentation when this idea was pitched to them. The salesperson at the ad agency must have been very best salesperson---EVER. This is the kind of person who sells ocean-front property in Wisconsin and ice-making machines to Eskimos. They got the Burger King execs so riled up that they spent millions of dollars on the ad campaign and the result is this: We know that people who don’t eat burgers, prefer the Whopper. I’m sure this fact has convinced the masses. The great Burger Battle is coming to end and the King will finally knock the Clown down a peg.

Or, you know…maybe, just maybe, no one cares. Not even a little bit. And someone—probably a lot of someones who make a lot of money to make good decisions, actually thought this was brilliant. Ahh, nothing is quite so amazing as the staggering stupidity of some people. We can only hope that in this monkey-see, monkey-do world, that other companies follow the brave lead of Burger King, because I’d pay to see the Charmin Virgins commercial!

No More Love for Lovie

2008-12-29T07:42:00.001-06:00

I’m not an extremist when it comes to firing coaches. It seems that the standard in sports today though, in the era of ESPN and non-stop talk radio and yes, message boards and blogs where every knuckle-dragging Neanderthal can spout off on any topic, that as soon as any team loses the talk begins about the removal of the coach. In most cases, it’s a foolish over-reaction by people who have no idea what they are talking about.

As someone who spent thirteen years as a coach, albeit on the very most amateur level, I know what a difficult and thankless job it can be. I’ve attended seminars given by some of the most respected coaching minds in sports today. I’ve put in the hours in the trenches as they may say, so when I speak out against a coach, it’s only after giving it a lot of thought and I assure you, it’s not an alarmist reaction.

That said, I think I may actually be in the minority in my opinion, which is this: The Chicago Bears need to fire head coach Lovie Smith post haste.

The reason is two-fold, one having to do with the fact that after having watched him for a few years now, I have come to the conclusion that he isn’t the right coach for this team. The second is because of the limited availability of a guy who would be. The second reason would be irrelevant without the first, of course, but because I believe it to be so, it’s something that comes into play.

Let’s start with why Lovie Smith isn’t the right guy for the job. And the answer is a simple one. There are two kinds of coaches in this world, real coaches and talent managers. I think that Lovie Smith is a fine talent manager, which means that when he has a team that is more talented than yours, he manages them in a way that keeps them from losing. He is player-friendly to the last, he never calls a specific player out in public, he never ruffles feathers, he is calm, collected, pensive and obtuse.

If the Bears did choose to fire him, which they most certainly will not, there wouldn’t be a single player who spoke a bad word about him. There would be outrage because just a couple years ago, he guided the Bears to an appearance in the Super Bowl, but I believe that to be a fallacy now. He didn’t guide them anywhere. He rode them to that Super Bowl. Simply put, his team was talented, so he was considered a good coach; it wasn’t a case where they were a good team because he was a good coach.

The sign of a good coach, a real coach, a coach worth keeping and paying is how his teams play and compete when they aren’t the most talented team. As the saying goes, he can take his’n and beat yours’n, and then take yours’n and beat his’n. A good coach’s team can overcome adversity, like injury to key players because he’s coached the backups to be ready to step in and fill the void. A good coach gets the most out his players. A well coached team will get better, not worse, as a year goes on. A good coach is all things—father, mother, brother, sister, friend, enemy, boss, peer, comrade, antagonist, psychologist and bus driver. A good coach is never universally liked, but is universally respected. A good coach is emotional, but never a slave to his emotions. I’m sorry, but I just don’t see it in Lovie. In him, I see a guy who is excellent with the wind at his back, and useless when walking into the wind.

The Bears players do not ever improve. They are good or bad. They are as is merchandise. If you draft, trade or sign a player, what you see is what you get. There is no growth curve. I cannot name a single player who has been a shining example of being coached up during the Lovie Smith era—a player who has made vast improvements. They are either good or bad when they get here. There is never any growth. That is the indictment. That is the proof in the pudding. That is the basis for labeling Lovie Smith a talent manager instead of a real coach. Sadly, the Chicago Bears will rarely be the team that pays for the most talent, so is a talent manager really the best choice for our coach?

The most common opinion now is that Lovie deserves one more year, that the Super Bowl appearance in 2006 earns him one more chance and therein lies the biggest problem. Coaches are going to start getting the axe left and right today, with the regular season over and done. Every one of those teams is going to being pursuing the best man for the job out there, a real coach who has always gotten the most from his teams, Bill Cowher.

IF, the Bears let Smith go, they would immediately become the most attractive option for a coach like Cowher, who would relish the chance to coach one of the original franchises, steeped in history and tradition and to be part of that tradition. If the money was right, there wouldn’t be a more attractive destination out there for him. The fact of the matter is that while the cupboard isn’t full of talent, it’s far from devoid of it. Chicago is a great sports town with a great fan base. Simply put, it’s one of the best places to coach in all of football, if not professional sports as a whole. If the money was right, Cowher could be the next coach of the Bears. But he won’t be.

Lovie Smith was given a contract extension based on the Super Bowl run. The Misers of the Midway won’t dump him until the stench of the corpse rot is definitive. They won’t take the chance that he may yet be a good coach. They won’t take the chance that they were wrong to have given him more money. Muster up your best West Texas drawl and say it with me: Lovie Smith is our football coach.

It’s a shame, because Cowher and Chicago would have been an amazing fit. But it’s a pipe dream, it’s as likely as the country banding together to ask Obama to step aside and have George Bush run things for four more years.

So, are the Bears doomed to mediocrity or worse until Lovie finally does get fired? No. The dynamic that football has that offers hope is the amount of responsibility that the coordinators have in the running of the team. A team manager like Lovie Smith can be successful if his Offensive and Defensive Coordinators are real coaches—and good ones. As the staff stands now, that’s not the case. If Lovie must stay, then Turner and Babich must go. It’s time to get some new blood in those jobs. A D-Coordinator with some fire is a must. The team obviously responds to that, as they did for Ron Rivera when he held the job. And both on offense and defense, our coordinators should be innovators. They should be ahead of the curve, not always trying to catch up to it. The era of the Cover-2 is over, it must evolve or die. And Ron Turner has had the same playbook since Jim Miller was our quarterback. He’s more predictable than the winter snow in Chicago. His biggest innovation of the year was being the last coordinator in the league to try the new-fangled “wildcat” formation. Gee. How exciting.

It’s been a long time since the Bears have had a real coach. They seem to be enamored with this prototype, poker-faced, ultra-calm, unflappable kind of coach. When it was time for Dick Jauron to go, they hired Dick Jauron with a tan. Meanwhile, when you say the words coach and Bears together in the same sentence, every and any football fan out there immediately thinks back to Mike Ditka. Great coaches become legends in this town. We haven’t had a legend in a long time. Cowher could have been a legend. Twenty years from now, I could have enjoyed a steak at his steakhouse downtown, but I won’t. I’ll still be going to Ditka’s and re-living ’85. Sad, isn’t it?

Jesus Christ the Kidnapped

2008-12-27T18:01:00.001-06:00

I just finished a book by A.J. Jacobs entitled The Year of Living Biblically in which he sets out to spend an entire year living by the literal laws of the Bible. He finds out almost immediately that it’s an impossible task since the Bible contradicts itself in many places, and is just too massive to just jump into anyway. So, he immerses himself in manageable chunks, learning to live the Bible bits at a time.

It’s an excellent book and it documents his transformation from being purely secular and agnostic to something more—though not outright religious. To help keep the reader’s attention, he chronicles a few of the more interesting biblical laws that he follows, such as stoning adulterers, keeping the ends of his beard unshaved and wearing fringe at the ends of all of his garments. But the fun and whimsical don’t distract from a really well-written journey of the author as he struggles to find and understand God.

Jacobs comes from Jewish decent and though he tries to live the New Testament out in the final few chapters of his book, he definitely falls more in line with the teachings and traditions of his grandparent’s religion. That didn’t stop me from gleaning quite a bit from what he went through though and as I turned the last page after his own reflections, I immediately thought of another book I’d recently read.

In his book Slapstick, Kurt Vonnegut invents a religion he calls the Church of Jesus Christ the Kidnapped. This religion is founded on the principle that the Second Coming has already started, but that upon coming back to the world, Jesus was kidnapped by nefarious forces. It is the most commonly practiced religion of the people in the apocalyptical world in which the book is set. The practitioners are easily noticed, because they continually turn their heads from side to side, searching for the kidnapped Christ.

While I’m pretty sure the Second Coming hasn’t occurred, the idea of the Kidnapped Jesus is one that really stuck with me. It really summed up how I feel about Christianity in general. I feel like a lot of high and mighty people, who live in glass houses have kidnapped Jesus and spend their time and energy bastardizing most of what he preached.

While they have the real Jesus, locked safely away somewhere, they substitute another Jesus who they use to fit their specific needs. The fake Jesus is very judgmental. He likes hypocrites a whole lot. He looks down on anyone who isn’t like his kidnappers. He considers himself and his kidnappers to be superior and he looks down on others. He is more concerned with fixing people who aren’t like he and his kidnappers than accepting them for who they are already.

Meanwhile, the Kidnapped Jesus is locked away in a room in some undisclosed location. All He ever really wanted was for us to love each other, accept each other, be kind to one and other and for us all to live in peace. He died so that we could all be free of sin, not so that we could use Him against each other.

The Kidnapped Jesus rolls his eyes when athletes point to Him after scoring touchdowns or hitting homeruns. He knows that isn’t about His glory but the athlete’s own. He cries when wars are fought in His name. He is despondent when His words are used as ammunition for people who are not accepting of others. He wanted His people to spread the good news, not to force it on others, but by loving them unconditionally, as He loves us, showing them that His truly is the truth, the way and the light.

He despised those who spawned hypocrisy in His Father’s name. The high and mighty of the world, those who worshipped money and fame and power were the ones He spoke out against. It was the poor and meek and to whom He promised the greatest rewards in Heaven.

It is possibly the greatest irony ever inspired by the Bible that modern day Christians, so high and mighty, so sure of right and wrong that they choose to judge instead of love, fail to see how similar they are to the very people of Biblical times that Jesus spoke out against.

I was raised Catholic and I still believe in all that I was taught. My faith in God is strong and unwavering. It’s my faith in people that is shattered. It is my faith in many—not all—who were taught the same things I was that troubles me. Sometimes, I think that maybe I read a different Bible; that I was taught a different religion than others who claim the same labels I always have, because I just don’t understand the things that they say and do.

So, I’ll borrow His words when I pray for those who have kidnapped Him: Forgive them, for they know not what they do. And I think that from now on, when anyone asks me what religion I practice, I’ll tell them that I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ the Kidnapped, a Christian who feels the Jesus that I know has been stolen from the world by those point to the sky after their own personal touchdowns. I don’t spend my time with my head on a swivel looking for Him though. He lives, as He always has, in my heart and in hearts of those who choose to love as He has loved us.

Jacobs concludes in his book that every and any person who looks to the Bible is in some way like a Cafeteria Christian, picking and choosing which parts of the Bible apply to them. If it weren’t so, no woman could ever speak in a church, no one could ever discuss the Tennessee Titans football team because merely saying the word Titan counts as idolatry. Sinners and blasphemers would be stoned on a daily basis. So, even the most hardcore Christians and Jews have to interpret and allow the words of the Bible or Torah to evolve along with us.

I agree with him. And that’s why religion is such a personal thing to me. I interpret what I learned when I was young and have learned as I’ve grown and apply it as best I can. I don’t expect others to see it exactly as I do and I’m put off by those who feel I should see it their way.

I just don’t see how the obsession with being right is, in any way, in accordance with the Bible and I’m appalled by the arrogance of those who think they have it all figured out. I wonder if most Christians are really the way they are portrayed, or if maybe they are just the squeaky wheel making noise, while the rest of us live our lives in much more Christian ways? I hope it’s the latter, but I’m not so sure.

I think that maybe Jesus has been kidnapped, in a figurative way and it’s a sad thing indeed. As Jacobs found out, it’s impossible to walk in the footsteps of our forbearers. We have to make the best of what we have, learning from the past and evolving to whatever comes next. It’s a personal journey, not one that’s meant to be taken en mass. Not that it’s wrong to celebrate what you believe with others—the opposite is actually true, just that it can’t be so sanctioned, so regimented and so predetermined, after all, our own free will is the bit of divine spark that was placed inside us all, and if we don’t exercise that gift and instead depend on the interpretations and the will of others, what greater sin could we commit?

Year In Review? Nah.

2008-12-26T19:03:00.001-06:00

Well, Christmas has past and New Years is approaching and between now and then, tis the season to review the year. Everyone and their mother feel the need to rehash the past 12 months, as if we weren’t along for the ride. Every magazine I receive has it’s annual Year In Review issue out. Every blog is covering it. Every website out there is busy reviewing their year. Even Christmas cards come with amazingly annoying 3-page letters informing us of every single inane and mundane detail of Aunt Mildred’s life and the lives of her family, friends and, of course, her cats, Fluffy, Peepers and Hermione.

I’m just not sure I understand the need to re-chronicle every stupid thing that has happened this past year though. My memory is pretty good, I can still remember who won last year’s NCAA Championship, so my magazines aren’t doing me any favors. It’s hard enough reading most blogs as it is, but rereading them is simple torture. Reviewing poorly written ignorance is far beyond cruel and unusual. And I just don’t know of a single person who could even remotely care that Aunt Mildred’s newest kitty Hermione is the cleverist kitten ever.

Still, the year end reviews are unavoidable. If you read anything that isn’t a book over the next week or so, you’ll inevitably read some kind of yearly review. You’ll read about the best and worst of 2008 as decided by arbitrary people who probably aren’t qualified to decide which is which. What ever happened to letting old acquaintance being forgotten and never brought to mind? Whatever happened to the good that men do lying interred with their bones? What’s with the analysis of something that we just got through analyzing?

When the election was going on, we drubbed it to death. We wrote about every imaginable aspect of it. We know that Obama won and that Palin believes people and dinosaurs coexisted. We don’t need reminders. The same is true of every notable event from the past year and this new-fangled interweb allows us to easily access that information, so it’s not like we’re documenting for posterity. People won’t need to read a year in review to know that Joe the Plumber had his fifteen minutes of fame, that The Sopranos ended with a cut to black and that after decades of rumors and promotion, Guns ‘N Roses finally released Chinese Democracy in 2008, all they have to do is Google it.

Maybe there was a place for year end reviews in the past, but we have instant access to any little minute piece of information we want these days, and even if we didn’t—if we can’t retain the information for twelve whole months, it just couldn’t possibly have been important enough for us to remember in the first place. I guess the point is that the past is supposed to be prologue and if that’s the case then the parts of it we failed to commit to memory couldn’t have been all that important in the first place. The song has it right. Let the trivial bits of the past year fall away, look to the future and let the historians worry about the documentation.

Happy New Year.

I Support Illiteracy--and you should too!

2008-12-03T13:54:00.001-06:00

“No.”

That was my answer. The question? Well it wasn’t really a question at all and that was the problem. It was a statement. For an extra dollar you can help support literacy in Illinois—and then she stared at me. And when I say that she stared at me, I mean to say that she gave me a look that said, only a complete asshole would refuse to give one little dollar to help people read.

Well color me a complete asshole, because my dollar stayed in my pocket and will likely go towards something off the value menu at a local fast food joint while people here in my home state continue to not be able to read—and I’m fine with that.

Now, it’s at this point that I feel it necessary to tell you that I am that guy. I’m the guy who can always be counted on to buy a candy bar from you so that your snot-nosed kid can get new soccer uniforms. I’m the guy who never misses a Salvation Army kettle. I’m the guy who buys tootsie rolls or paper carnations to support whatever disease is having it’s big day. I’m the guy who’s a mortal lock to pledge to your Walk-For-Whatever. The girl scouts all know I’m a sucker for their cookies. I’m a giving kind of guy.

And if you came up to me and asked me to help support literacy in my home state, I’d give to that cause too, but when you try to guilt me into it while I’m in line at the store, you can bet your sweet ass that my money is staying in my wallet, thank you very much!

Ask, and you shall receive. Try to guilt me into giving and I’ll be stubborn just for fun.

The whole idea that any organization would accost me and put me on the spot like this is insulting. If I want to walk by a bum on the street and not give him my spare change, all I have to say is—sorry buddy, I don’t have any, even if I have $0.97 jingling around in my pocket. If I want to walk past that Salvation Army kettle, I need only put my head down and ignore the bell ringer.

But when Little Miss Cashier Girl at the bookstore tells me that I can help people learn to read, she knows damn well that I have money. I just handed it to her. It just means that I get less change back. It means that one, itty-bitty little dollar isn’t going to make it back to my wallet.

So, she looks at me with those big doe eyes and says her line: For an extra dollar you can help support literacy in Illinois. She might as well be saying: For an extra dollar, you can save a bag full of puppies from being set on fire! Or, for an extra dollar, you can keep babies from being dunked in acid. That is the tone she says it with, that is the look she uses to accompany her request.

In her eyes, it is, of course, a moral imperative that I donate just one little dollar. Well I say no. I say no because I will not be bullied into giving. I say no because I’m offended that you try to hold my change hostage. I say no because I don’t care if some 17 year old girl working the register at Borders thinks I’m an asshole. I say no because you have a lot of nerve trying to hijack my dollar like this. If you want to station a person at the door who ASKS me for a donation, I’m all for helping you to end illiteracy. But as it is now, with your guerilla-warfare tactics, I am proud to say and shall scream from the mountaintops: I SUPPORT ILLITERACY IN ILLINOIS!!!!!

More books for me! Now, I won’t have to worry about someone coming in and taking that last copy of the book I want to get off the shelf, because that fool can’t read! Muah-ha-ha-ha-ha!

Somewhere, in some board room, some asshole stood up in front of a bunch of people and presented them with this idea. He got a raise, a promotion and a pat on the back because I’m sure it’s wildly successful. Most people don’t give from the heart. Most people can be guilted into giving though. The change-jack is probably a very successful strategy. And all of those people in that office probably think it’s brilliant.

Well, I don’t think it’s brilliant. I think that when you stop relying on people’s good will and start relying on guile to achieve your means, you are no longer a worthy cause. If you are duplicitous in how you get your money, surely you will be duplicitous in how you spend it. You justify your means with the end. Well, I justify my lack of charity with your lack of scruples.

In all seriousness, illiteracy is no joke. But neither is my point—when not-for-profits start resorting to these kinds of methods, they lose all integrity. They lose any sense of trust I might have had in them, had they approached me in an honest way. Which is why, in the end, that dollar won’t really go to some item off the value menu at McDonalds, I’ll just add it to the dollar I wind up giving to the next bell ringer I see outside a grocery store, or the next guy at the red light who wants to give me a tootsie roll.

I’m happy to give. I just refuse to be taken.

I hate you Barry Manilow!!!!

2008-12-01T12:16:00.000-06:00

Well, it’s December and Thanksgiving is behind us, the first snow of the year is outside my door waiting to be shoveled, so I suppose it’s officially the dreaded HOLIDAY SEASON. As much as I’d love to deny it, as much as I wish it weren’t so, there just doesn’t seem to be any way to put it off any longer.

This promises to be an especially dark Christmas. There is something out there, something so horrible and so frightening that I give pause to even mentioning it. I choose to do so only because you can’t possibly avoid hearing about it—and worse, hearing it.

Yes my friends, you guessed it. The Christmas Nightmare I’m referring to is The Greatest Songs of the 80’s---AS PERFORMED BY BARRY FREAKING MANILOW!!!!

Now, I am a child of the 80’s. And I love my 80’s music. Almost all of the ringtones on my phone are 80’s songs. My Sirius satellite radio is currently tuned into the 80’s station. I have several 80’s compilations CDs (as performed by their original artists, thank you very much). So, it’s safe to say that the music of the 80’s has a very special place in my heart.

Would you like to know who doesn’t have a very special place in my heart? Barry Freaking Manilow! And before any you crazy Fanilows try to get all up in my business about this issue, know that I will defend to my very death the contention that Manilow should be tarred, feathered, hung and shot for this dastardly deed!

This is just wrong! This is wrong like Britney Spears teaching a parenting class. This is wrong like cats and dogs making out. This is wrong like Rosie O’Donnell doing naked jumping jacks. It’s wrong I say!

It’s bad enough that Manilow is butchering songs from music’s greatest decade, but what’s potentially even more disturbing is that he has decided that he should choose the decade’s best songs! Some examples of what, in Manilow’s opinion are the greatest songs of this decade? Islands in the Stream, on which he duets with Reba McEntire is the first. Shame on you Reba! Dolly and Kenny are rolling over in their graves of irrelevance over this outrage!

Tired of being rickrolled? Well prepare to be barrolled because Rick Astley’s Never Gonna Give You Up is one of the best songs of the 80’s according to Barry. You may be surprised to find out that Stevie Wonder recorded one of the best songs of the 80’s with I Just Called To Say I Love You—even Stevie can see that has to be a mistake!

I can live with him butchering songs I don’t care about though. Obviously, they aren’t even in the conversation for best songs of the 80’s, but butcher away Manilow, I don’t care! But when you start butchering Open Arms by Journey and Against All Odds by Phil Collins we have an issue Barry! You can sing Right Here Waiting and knock off that no-talent assclown Richard Marx all you want, but you have no business touching Cyndi Lauper’s Time After Time!

And it’s just so sad that you, Barry Manilow are the first straight guy to record the great Wham song, Careless Whisper. I don’t really care who else may have done it, but why God? Why couldn’t it have been a man who covers up his chest hair?

I’m distraught. I’m saddened beyond grief. Sure, you say that if I don’t want to be exposed to these songs, just don’t buy the CD right? Wrong! Barry Manilow is like a virus! When he puts out a CD, it is immediately piped into our malls and elevators, the lobbies of our doctor’s and dentist’s office will be infected for years to come. You cannot run from Barry Manilow and you cannot hide! He spreads like wildfire—the evil Fanilow’s will see to it! We will all be infected!!! There is no escape!!!!!

And for those of you who are children of the 90’s out there laughing at me, enjoy it while it lasts I say! The assured success of this CD will only embolden Barry! You’re next! Just wait until Smells Like Teen Spirit get covered by Manilow! Cobain will roll over in his grave! Dr. Dre will openly weep when Nuthin But A G Thang is covered and Snoop Dogg literally rip the braids from his head! Close your eyes my friends, now picture Manilow onstage rapping, “All right stop! Collaborate and Listen M-lows back with a brand new addition, something, grabs a hold of you tightly flows like a harpoon daily and nightly, will it ever stop, yo—I don’t know, turn off the light and I’ll glow, to the extreme I rock a mike like a vandal, light up a stage and wax a chump like a candle, Barry, Barry baby! Duh-dun-dun-dun-dada-dun-dun, Vanilla Barry, Barry baby!

The only thing that might be worse will be Manilow’s cover of Hanson’s Mmmbop!

So, bah freaking humbug, I say to you! My holiday has been ruined. Manilow has conspired to ruin Christmas! And he will ruin elevator rides and doctor’s visits for years to come. I will cringe with every playing of an 80’s classic by this no-talent loser! Go back to the 70’s where you belong Barry! Go back to your platform shoes and your butterfly collars! Your Fanilows will continue to buy your crappy CDs of songs from that decade. Stay the hell out of the 80’s!!!! And thanks for ruining my Christmas!!!!

Literary Profiling

2008-11-26T12:55:00.000-06:00

I just left Borders a few moments ago and I was the victim, once again, of Literary Profiling. It’s starting to piss me off. And I’ll state right here at the outset that I’ve received this treatment at Barnes & Noble as well, so its not a matter of the store I choose. It’s a matter of these book-Nazis assuming that certain types of people buy certain types of books.

I took a look in the mirror when I got home. I had pretty standard apparel on for me:

Navy Blue Baseball Hat, Duke University
Navy Blue Fleece Pullover
Navy Blue w/white side stripe Nike warm-up pants
Navy Blue Crocs, Chicago Cubs Logo
Various undergarments (none of which are Navy blue!)

Granted, I look more prepared for the gym than I do the bookstore, but that’s no excuse for Literary Profiling. But that’s exactly what happens when I walk into a book store. They see me walking through the new releases and tell me, very politely, that they have some great new books in the Sports section in back.

It’s almost like they don’t want the smart-looking people to see me browsing the books up front. Apparently, they think I’m some kind of smart-person scarecrow.

“Oh look, the Neanderthal wanna-be jock guy is looking at the jacket of that book, it must have pictures and small words! I won’t even bother picking it up.”

When I go into the Sci-Fi/Fantasy section, they assume I’ve gotten lost. Apparently, I don’t look like a guy who can appreciate a story about Elves and magic. And so:

“Excuse me Sir, can I help you find something? Are you looking for a gift?” Why must I be shopping for a gift? Why can’t I enjoy wizards and witches and magical swords? Huh?

Well, lately it’s been much, much worse for me. I’m not normally someone who reads the classics. I much prefer contemporary works to the oldies, but for the past few months, I’ve been on a Kurt Vonnegut kick. I’ve gone through almost his entire library of works, with only a few left to go.

Granted, it’s the beginning of Christmas shopping season now, so its not uncommon for the register person to ask I need a gift receipt, but this has been going on since this summer and they aren’t just asking if I need a gift receipt, they ASSUME I need one!

Here are some of the various things that have been said to me after plopping down one of Vonnegut’s books at the register:

“Oh, do you have a Vonnegut fan in your family?” Yes. Me.

“Are you buying this for a special someone?” Yes. Me.

“Oh, look, Siren’s of Titan, one of my favorites! You know it’s not your typical science fiction right?” Yes. I do.

“Breakfast of Champions! You know it’s not about the cereal!” [ha, ha, ha!] Really? I thought it was a recipe book!

Do I have the word DUH written on my forehead? Is it impossible for someone who dresses like I do to enjoy dark humor and scathing wit? And let’s face it folks, anyone who’s ever read Vonnegut knows that it’s not tough reading. A middle-school kid could get quite a bit of Vonnegut and would have no trouble reading him.

So, what’s with these elitist, book-nerds who don’t want to let me play in any reindeer games? I bet if I came in wearing a half-tucked shirt, dark-rimmed glasses and mismatched socks they’d be nice to me! Do I really have to nerd it up in order to have a peaceful shopping experience? Do I really need to dress the part so that I won’t be met with incredulity when I reach the cashier?

I’m a dork. I’m proud of the fact that I’m a dork, but I don’t have to dress like a dork do I? Aren’t the Cubs Crocs enough proof of my dorkdom? Do I really need to push the envelope farther than that in order to gain your respect bookstore people?

So, no. I don’t need help finding my way back to the Sports books section and I’m not interested in the new NASCAR picture book you recently got in for the Holidays. Yes, I’m actually buying this deep and intellectual book for me. Hooked on Phonics not only worked on me, but it created a miracle! Jesus hisownself, of water to wine and rising from the dead fame has nothing on athlete-wannabe guy who learned to enjoy books of substance!

I just want to do my book shopping in peace. I like being in bookstores. I like grabbing a cup of coffee and wandering aimlessly in my comfy clothes for an hour or two, just reading the jackets of various books and picking one or two to take home with me. I like being left alone while I wander through the Psychology section and the Writing section and the Classics section. It’s not a jungle. Navigation, even for a Neanderthal like me, isn’t that difficult. The HUGE signs hanging all over the place letting me know what section is where are extremely helpful and do a wonderful job all on their own.

So, in the future, book store people, just smile and assume I’m exactly where I want to be in your store. Assume that I’m buying these books for myself and that I’m a big boy who can understand all of the big words and big thoughts inside them. And please, just stop it with the Literary Profiling.

Open Letter to Interactive Polls

2008-11-18T18:53:00.002-06:00

Dear Interactive Polls,

Go Away. I’m tired of you. Why must you inundate every live broadcast of anything, anywhere? Why must my college basketball game be interrupted by you? Why must you hijack every newscast? Why? Why? Why?

You see, I don’t care about your results! The people who log on to the interwebs in the middle of watching a television program to vote on some idiotic question aren’t exactly the people whose opinions matter to me.

And what possible difference can you make? You ask us things like whether Joe the Plumber will effect our vote or if we’re in favor of moving the NCAA 3-point line back a foot or if we prefer ninjas or pirates and in the end, how can this possibly be important?

You ask us who we think will win the big game, but do you really think you tell us anything more than which team has more interweb geeks willing to log on and vote for their favorite team?

You are stupid. You are pointless. You really bother me and I want you gone! If you had any balls at all you would devote an entire day allowing only one of you and it would be with this question: Should we eliminate interactive polls from every broadcast of every program forever? YES or NO?

Oh, I’d take the time to log in if that poll ever crossed my television screen! I would vote early and often as we Chicagoans are wont to do. I would call my friends and email everyone I know and I would say to them: Please, please, please, for the love of God and tiny fuzzy baby ducks, please vote to ban interactive polls forever, because if I see just one more, I just might snap.

Let the people who love to vote on any little thing text their votes to American Idol and Dancing with the Stars so that I don’t need to be bothered with them if I don’t want to be! Stay away from politics and sports! I die a little every time I see one of you! Die you rotten, idiotic, mind-numbing bastard, die!!!!

Sincerely,

Albert A. Riehle

p.s. I hate you!!!!