The Report

My New Job

2006-01-07T23:57:00.000-08:00

Tonight I watched part of a PBS special about the "golen age" of the Egyptian empire and, after reflecting for a few seconds, I've decided that I want to be a king.

It would be awesome! *I* would be awesome! I would be a stern but demanding ruler, insatiable for power and attention, and I would get it or you would die! That's brilliant! Plus you get goodies when you're king, like deciding to invade other countries for the fuck of it, choosing who or what the populace should worship (if they know what's good for them), and eating whatever the hell I wanted to, possibly hybridizing to get exactly what I want, like making turkey-pigs, or corn-hotdogs, or hamburger-cheese, or whiskey-Coke. Also, I'd have the blingy-est bling in all the land. I would demand, for instance, that my toilet cost no less than the total GDP of three rival kingdoms.

Know what else you get when you're an absolute ruler? Babes. Chicks. Women of sultry repute. I'd have them around me constantly, even if it's just to re-affirm my "Pimp of pimps" status. And don't you ACLU types worry: I'd treat my bitches proppa! No matter what, though, Noelle would be my queen, and I would treat her with no less respect than anyone else who has to do exactly what I say.

In fact, it's destined that I become a king! Below you can see the hieroglyphic by famed king-seer "Chriswillbecomeakingsomedaysoy'allbetterbackthefuckup-domos."

Literature and Language

2005-09-30T00:57:00.000-07:00

As I was walking to the BART station after a great lunch (thanks, Miss List...), in the balmy 65 degree heat of San Francisco, I noticed a bumper sticker. The language above was in Spanish, but the translation below read "No Person is Illegal!"

It struck me as a stupid statement until I really thought about how we in America refer to those entering the country by any means but what we consider ideal: illegals. When entering this country it is still cheaper and faster to use backdoor methods to cross the border and land a job than by utilizing the current system (which I learned from my boss, who had her papers stolen last year). So how do we refer to these individuals? We refer to their status by the adjective used to describe their activities.

The previous post demonstrated how a word can attain a personality, but here the word robs people of their personality; in fact, it robs them of their humanity.

Can you tell that the English teacher in me is about to rip through my chest and scamper across this planet unless I go back to college? In blogs, no one can hear you snore (or drink 40s...heh).

Others:

~If you're near a library or bookstore, pick up one of Jane Bowles' books and sit down and read. I've only read a small snipet in "Women of the Beat Generation," but what I read was, in my humble, college-educated opinion, freaking awesome and everyone should read her.

~I need a new tire for my bike (random puntures, as well as hitting curbs too hard) and looked at the prices. They range from $15 to $55!!! The higher prices are the same for a single CAR tire, and there's less rubber! What do they do, help me jump cars and shoot out spikes to take down other wheel-based travelers a la "Ben Hur?"

~Fictional drink that you know I'm going to try someday: Axis Powers, consisting of Jagermeister, grappa, and sake. I think most of the joy in this drink will consist of finding out what measures of each will make a palatable drink, by which point I won't remember anyway.

This week's links:

Chaotic Creations
This is a metalsmith who specializes in just about anything you can think of, and his designs are really cool. Neat stuff: he was recommended by a couple of friends I married (I'm a minister, doncha know) and their pictures are first in the "Customer Pics" page!

Soulseek
Hard to find music is the de rigueur on soulseek (slsk). There is also, of course, regular music, but the name of the game here is rarities.

Niagara
I love this woman's art; it mercilessly jumps out at you, taking no whimpering or bellyaching. There can be a problem with actually LOOKing at the art in the galleries sometimes, but let that not tarnish her name or her art...if that's possible.

Favorite Songs Right Now:

1. Franz Ferdinand, "Take Me Out" - Yeah, it's not new, and I'd heard it about 1,000 times on the radio, but only recently have I been really listening to it.

2. L7, "Used to Love Him" - Cover of a Guns N' Roses song with a sex change. It's just awesome. Here's a sample:

I used to love him
But I had to kill him
I used to love him, oooh
But I had to kill him
I had to kill him
And I can still hear him complain!

3. Commander Cody and His Lost Planet Airmen, "Smoke, Smoke, Smoke (That Cigarette!)" - Can we have more proponents of smoking, please? Fuck health, I need self-medication and I need it now!

Finally...I re-found some favorite quotes of mine. Many of them were from my Zen days, but some were personal. I worked with two old, gregarious cooks at Sonoma State University, and I wrote down their most common sayings:

"Have a QUALITY day." - Nick Luque, Vietnam veteran, constant source of dirty jokes and sayings.

"Every day above ground is a good day." - Joe Ellerbrecht, alcoholic, lifelong food service cook.

Mostly Harmless: The Mega-Post

2005-09-20T01:45:00.000-07:00

On Saturday night both Miss List and I saw "The Aristocrats" and we had a ball. The jokes were beyond blue and into the ultraviolet, and after half a pitcher of beer you feel fine laughing about stuff like that with a room full of strangers (although the bladder has other ideas).

After one joke, the punchline of which is "Nigger Cunts", everyone was quiet except for some woman off to the left, Miss List, and I. The joke wasn't racist or sexist, and it was created and used to underline the central premise of the movie's joke (nope, not gonna tell ya...go see it!).

The next day I was intrigued at the audience's reaction. Granted, these aren't kind words, and the joke was told by a white man, but that wasn't the point. The point was that the words were in direct opposition to the set-up, and it took you by surprise and made a joke of racial and sexual tensions. The whole rest of the movie centers around jokes using incest, shitting, pissing, or vomitting on family members, rape, and bleeding due to anything that you can think of in the aforementioned items and more. All of this, when done well by the comedians, elicited peels of laughter from the audience.

But it was "nigger cunts" that made almost everyone silent. I personally believe that it's the power of the words. The first is often described as a "racist word." I'm not going to fight the use of the word "nigger" as having a racist past; I'm slow on the uptake but I'm not a complete ignoramous, nor am I insensitive. My point, though, is that the word wasn't used as such. It was used to draw contrast to the joke's build-up (the architecture of which is a difficult thing to explain...once again, see the movie!), but the word is so blatantly "racist" that everyone gasps at its usage. Folks, words aren't racist; people are. (One could also make the argument that laws are also racist, but people enforce laws, and that's a gray area that will be easier for me to avoid right now) And if words themselves are racist, then I should have told that to a group of black teenagers when I was on the bus today. And many rappers. And some of my coworkers.

The second word, when used to describe a woman, is probably the lowest of the low, a derogative of the worst sort. But once again, it's just a word, powerless unless you give it power over your life. It's true, there's a thin little line between derogatory and sexist, yet like the above it all depends on usage.

It probably didn't help much that the teller of the joke was a white male, and my argument may be weakened by the fact that I am too. I haven't had any words with the same power as the above hurled at me by someone who wasn't like me (perhaps the closest term that I would take offense to would be "British Colonialist," although "Conservative Christian" might be up there too). Therefore, I'm probably not the best person to be talking about this, but there it is.

And the joke was funny. Well, not quite so much as other jokes in the movie, but you'll have to see it for yourself.

Other News:

A friend at work had no more use for her Gamecube and, therefore, her games, so now I have it. For free. Hey, it's not the shit, but it's my first console, yo! The games are mostly of a vampiric or otherwise fantasy-based genre of gaming. There's also "Die Hard: Vendetta" which looks cool but has un-intuitive controls. So do some of the other games, and most of them are kinda lame. Once again, leave it to the guys at Rockstar to set the benchmark; not only is the "Grand Theft Auto" a fun ride, but the controls are near perfect. Of the games I received, the only ones I think I'll be playing on a regular basis are "Reign of Fire" (surprisingly), "Hunter, The Reckoning", and "Bloody Roar" (but only with Miss List).

Link-O-Rama:

Below are all of the links that bring me pleasure of one sort or another. (there are more, but they escape me right now)

This is my girlfriend's blog. It's righteous cool.

This is my dear friend's blog. There have been only scant posts since she had her baby, but I think that's understandable, no?

Once again, I must promote this site. C'mon, get cool with it!

It might not know everything that you do about a subject, but there's a good chance.

If you've been on the internet for a month and you haven't been to this site, there's something wrong with you.

You are not alone! Drinkers of the world unite!
(and if you are a drinker, see how many of these you can check off, also see if this moves you)

An interesting blog by another mother.

Like space? No? Well, you paid for the pictures, so you might as well look at them.

Babes, porn, weird shit. In that order.

Favorite Songs Right Now:

1. "Damn It Feels Good to be a Gangser" - Geto Boys
2. "Death Letter" - White Stripes, covering Ledbelly (numerous live)
3. "Take Five" - Dave Brubek and Paul Desmond

Rant II

2005-09-07T00:05:00.000-07:00

Alright, it's been a while. I'm a-ranting.

First, Oakland drivers. No, that lever sticking out of your steering column is NOT a "Driver Ejection" device. It is your turn signal, and the more you use it the wiser my decisions will be when riding my bike. Also, no, I will not run into the parked car in front of me just because you don't feel like twitching your wrists a fraction of an inch to pass me six inches further to the left. I know, I'm not accomodating, but neither are you.

30-year-olds at Trader Joe's: You're not fashionably hip anymore. I know, I'm 27, but at least I'm not trying like crazy to cling to what I wore when I was 20. OK, I kind of am, but that's because I'm poor and it's all I have. You two, however, can't let go of the fade-shades, laughingly stressed "I'm wearing these as though I'm white trash but I'm not - I'm so fucking ironic" jean jackets, pants with some kind of funky Indian-hippie design on the pockets, and...honey, please...a black stretch T-shirt with a large skull on the front made out of purple sequins? Your shit is played! Dude, you're balding and chunkier than you were when you bought that weird shirt that I've since wiped from my memory, and lady, well, your face shows how disinterested you are whenever he speaks. I know, I know...the two of you have been living with each other for, like, four years but just don't feel, like, you know, the marriage thing is for you, but you've got to ease into your aging eventually, and the later the funnier for the rest of us. Okay, nevermind, keep doing it.

Fuck you, work. "Well, you know, we don't know when that transfer of yours is going to happen because all of us managers aren't really communicating with each other about it...I haven't heard about it from him and he hasn't heard about from her...ehh...uhh...ehh...YOU ALL FUCKING WORK WITHIN 50 FEET OF EACH OTHER!! You all know each other's phone extensions! It's been in the works for about one whole month now! I'm not wasting any more exclamation marks on you people. Losers.

And fuck you, George Bush. "It's not the time to ask who's to blame...it's time to solve problems...and we're problem solvers." You sure found someone to blame after 9/11, didn't you? That's ALL you focused on two days after THAT disaster, wasn't it? The governor of Louisiana BEGGED FOR FEDERAL HELP on the Sunday BEFORE Katrina hit! Did she get an answer? Nope! Didn't solve that problem, did you?

And shut up, Barbara Bush. Did you really say that since most of the New Orleaners were living in poverty before Katrina that they're now better off living in the Astrodome due to the kindness of Texas? I guess the veterans who come back from Iraq to find that their spouses have left them and their peace jobs have given up on them are faring better here than in the harsh environment of Iraq, aren't they? I mean, at least everyone speaks English here, right?

Damn you, Natalie Goldberg. Even though you use your book as your own biographic piece and quote your Zen god Dainin Katagiri Roshi in almost every single short chapter, your exercises seem to work. To close this rant on a high note, I will therefore recommend your book: "Writing Down the Bones, Freeing the Writer Within" (foreword by Judith Guest, author of Ordinary People!)

Grrr

It's Just a Bump

2005-08-31T23:24:00.000-07:00

On Wednesday I went to a clinic on IKEA's dime to have a small amount of TB injected into my arm, forming a bubble of flesh that rose above my skin. It's the usual first test to determine whether or not I have an active case of the disease. On my way home I had to think about everyone I've been in close contact with and how to tell them that they might be at risk. It's a hard thing making that phone call: "I may have breathed TB on your baby." It's nothing I really want to think about, but there it is.

Then I come home to check out just what is happening in New Orleans, hearing that things are bad.

And man, things are BAD. You know the stories and the news, so I won't repeat them here. This is nothing that I ever thought I'd see in America, for some reason. But, four years ago we all said the same thing about New York, so there you are.

And then right after the New Orleans news I saw the aftermath of the stampede in Iraq, and I just felt numb. Just like the aftermath of Katrina, it's nothing I've had any reference point to, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone.

I'm not going to diminish the threat of something once referred to as Consumption. But suffice it to say that, if this is my biggest concern right now, I've got it pretty good.

I hope that the Katrina survivors find homes, either in their old city or elsewhere, and I hope that the families of those lost in the stampede find happiness in their lives again. I wish them all well.

By the way, that bump on my arm has disapeared.

Like a Chain, or the Cat

2005-08-31T02:03:00.000-07:00

In honor of the fickleness of both the internet and its users, the following is a list of my favorite sites...*tonight*.

Iced Out Gear: Want your bling? Want your bling to be the bangin'-est of all bangin' bling? The bling-i-est, perhaps? Scope out this website's offerings and tell me that you can live without a "PIMP" drinking cup or an LED belt buckle.

Urban Dictionary: From "cool" to "crunk," "dude" to "diggity," "shit" to "shizzle," this website assists those who need a little knowledge dropped on their slang. Word.

Busted Tees: Not even Shakespeare is out of range for these merry pranksters of the most simple of garments. Their Jesus is especially fresh, and don't forget to try their state and country flavors! Que bon!

Modern Drunkard Magazine: Do you like to drink? I know I do. I prefer to drink in the company of other drinkers, but when I can't, I like to read about other people who love to drink like I do. That's why I read Modern Drunkard Magazine.

Crop

2005-08-30T00:54:00.000-07:00

I enter the bathroom with only minimal clothing; I'm alone and it's warm. After flicking on the light I reach for the plastic bag lining my garbage bin and place it in the sink, flattening it a little as I do so, making the opening as wide as possible. Looking into the mirror I run my hands through my hair, noting how the blond locks flicker and ruffle, some back into position, some settling into some new geometrical oddity. After looking in the mirror for a long time I open the medicine cabinet and reach in.

I uncoil the cord and plug it into the wall. A harsh click in the silence is followed by a low, welcome buzzing sound. Without stopping to think I take the clippers to my hair. It's set to only one half inch, but it feels like I'm removing the top of my head: that's how much hair is falling into the plastic bag. The clippers nuzzle my skull like a large, warm bee gathering nectar and humming approvingly, moving from one side to the other. My hair falls like autumnal leaves, sometimes cascading, sometimes flipping end over end; sometimes landing in the bag, sometimes falling to the floor.

After a few minor touch-ups I brush the remaining hair from my shoulders and neck. I look in the mirror at the new me, at the old me, having not felt such kinship and alienation at the same time. I study the angles brought to light again, the eerie glow surrounding my head, my overall new look, and I cannot help but say aloud,

"God DAMN, I've got a lot of face!"

Eventually I put the clippers away and start a bath, eagerly looking forward to the shower coming later.

Blame

2005-08-26T00:24:00.000-07:00

Ah ha! I've found my creative wall!

(well at least I think I have I mean it's just easier to settle on something rather than wonder and ponder and theorize aimlessly and if I say what it is then it is so shut up SHUT UP!)

I'm pointing the finger squarely - tongue in cheek, now - at you...TV!!! Yes, TV! You're a beguiling, sophmoric, sexy cathode thought-narcotic, aren't you? And the rabbit ears only make you cuter!

Dave, Conan, NOVA, Simpsons, football...you throw these at me and it's like handing candy to a child, expecting and getting my valuable brain time. The passive observer in me gains strength and kicks sand in the face of my...um...creative something. Weakling? Where's my thesaurus?

And I blame you, too, DVD! Shiny vortex of time-theft! You bring me "The West Wing"...with lasers! Beautiful, blinding lasers! How am I expected to resist? I'm only a mortal man!!

From here on out, I promise to destroy you, TV! And I'll get your little DVD, too!

Aaaaaand.....scene!

The following are outtakes from this blog post:

(paragraph 1, sentence 2, take 1): Ah ha! I've found cheese in my socks!

(paragraph 2, sentence 3, take 3): And the rabbit rears only make you cuter! Wait, did I...ha! Did I say rabbit "rears"? Did I say that? HAAA ha ha ha ha...ha haaaa. Wait, give me a minute.

(paragraph 3, sentence 1, take 1): - tongue in cheek, now - at you...www.sexyteenorgies.com! Oh, wait. Well, I do, but...I don't want to...um, cut?

(paragraph 3, sentence 1, take 2): ...and it's like handing crack to my mom! MOM! Oh, mom, why, WHY???

mumble

2005-07-26T02:16:00.000-07:00

Is it possible to feel so low for oneself and yet so happy for oneself and everyone else at the same time? I guess that's my normal life. Actually, my modus operandi.

LittleMissList: I love you more than I show, no matter what you say on the subject of "getting it." I'm finding more nooks and crannies and clouds and space in our love, and I'll never get over it, nor you.

Mrs. L: I'm so happy for you, and I know that your baby will be raised in a house of love. It's been too long since we've sat down and talked.

Mr. L: Same here, actually. And when you want to start smoking, you know where to find me.

Everyone else: shine.

(blogs should not be written while drunk and in shoulder pain)

It Could Always be Worse....?

2005-07-13T10:34:00.000-07:00

Actually, it probably can't. This guy is considered the worst poet in all of Canadian literature. And he really was writing about, well....yeah, a giant piece of cheese.

"Ode on the Mammoth Cheese Weighing over 7,000 Pounds"
by James McIntyre (1827-1906)

We have seen the Queen of cheese,
Laying quietly at your ease,
Gently fanned by evening breeze --
Thy fair form no flies dare seize.

All gaily dressed soon you'll go
To the great Provincial Show,
To be admired by many a beau
In the city of Toronto.

Cows numerous as a swarm of bees --
Or as the leaves upon the trees --
It did require to make thee please,
And stand unrivalled Queen of Cheese.

May you not receive a scar as
We have heard that Mr. Harris
Intends to send you off as far as
The great World's show at Paris.

Of the youth -- beware of these --
For some of them might rudely squeeze
And bite your cheek; then songs or glees
We could not sing o' Queen of Cheese.

We'rt thou suspended from baloon,
You'd caste a shade, even at noon;
Folks would think it was the moon
About to fall and crush them soon.

Stinky!!

The East Lake Merrit Gazette

2005-07-01T02:04:00.000-07:00

Ahhh...I've had such a relapse into silence that I'm not sure where to begin. Posting that letter felt good, but...ahh.

Anyway, Georgie Bush, in one of his righteous tantrums (having thrown many, I can spot 'em) said that the fighting, bloodshed, and death in Iraq was "worth it." Along with all of the other arguments in my usual repetoire, can I just mention the obvious fact that Bush used a monetary adjective to describe a vague and so far unknown end by means of fighting, bloodshed, and death? Please? Thank you.

In lighter news, if the county you live in finds your property to be more fiscally prosperous business-wise than your lame ass paying taxes, it can claim eminent domain and build a mall where you once wished for your children to run through the sprinklers. No, thank YOU David Souter.

Some good news? Women in San Francisco protested the war topless with slogans such as "Tits, Not Targets" displayed on signs. Yeah, I'm on the right side.

To follow up on Miss Lotsalist's post about music downloading....well, I agree. On a personal note, I love the White Stripes. I feel like they've re-vitalized the rock that I hear on the radio (even if it's just them...and, I don't listen to the radio anymore), and I'd like to hear more and more of them in the future. I bought "Elephant" in 2003 and loved it from the first song to the last, but I bought it without listening to it. The Stripes just came out with "Satan Get Behind Me" and I listened to a little on CDNow.com and downloaded some songs. Know what? I still support them, but I'm not buying the album. Call that and other, similar situations to it selective consumerism, which is what I think it should be. As I think we all agree, the music industry has missed out on some opportunity here. It's most likely a lack of creativity in their ad departments, however, since the three main categories for artists pushing a new album or tour are "Sexy", "Dark", or "Other/Weird/Uncommon." Of course, people who have certain tastes still find what they like, but it often involves digging through old material to find something that sounds new...and...
Yeah, I'm rambling. I like good music. I guess that's my tenet here.

Random quote from random book:

"They hold their great balls in the open air, in what is called a fairy-ring."
-J. M. Barrie, "Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens"

Heh.

I'm drunk.

Alright, one more thing: I hate looking for jobs. I hate it. Various emotions arise in my heart when I look at the "Help Wanted" section, most of them self-pitying. I thought that I was past that crap, but my heart's still beating, so I guess not. Recently I agreed to an interview with an upscale version of what I do now in Emeryville, only this is in San Francisco, and the interview was cancelled exactly one day before it was scheduled because "someone perfect" walked in. Then I had an interview on Wednesday in Concord at the airport for an FBO (I'll let you figure that one out). Everything seemed to go well, but I got an e-mail today stating that the job went to someone with - drumroll please.......no, really, do that trilling thing with your tongue, or at least beat your hands on the desk...........the job went to someone with................Relevant Experience! (cymbal crash) A part of my brain is saying "I told ya sooo!" and I'm currently drowning it with Franzia. And tomorrow, if I get up early enough before work, I'll try and re-apply myself to applying myself to applying for jobs again.

Alright, know what? Yeah, it was a poor-me forum just then, so just be glad I won't bring it up this weekend.

Class dismissed!

Moot, But Righteous!

2005-06-15T15:42:00.000-07:00

I sent the following letter first to Tom DeLay and then to Bill Frist. Hopelessly waiting for a response? No, just indignant and wallowing in it. And, like a good evolved ape, throwing words, not feces, at my opponents (just this once):

I believe that you have to hand back your mysterious proof of medical expertise now, Mr. Representative. As many real doctors have proved before, and the latest autopsy results have shown since, Terri Shiavo's brain was no longer capable of thought, survival, or even vision. Her brain had deteriorated so badly that it weighed less than it should have at the time of her death. The only reason for keeping the feeding tube apparatus up and running was to allow her heart and other organs to operate.

Or maybe you were concerned with her soul, as a good Christian? (Shiavo, not you) If you were truly concerned, Mr. Delay, about the person and not fearing God's response, you would have been at least moderately interested in allowing her soul to move up into heaven where there is no suffering and she could be with God. But, once again, you feared God (and a constituency) rather than loved another human being.

And I won't even begin to discuss how you and Bill Frist used this woman's tragedy, and the suffering of both her parents and husband, as a poorly executed smokescreen to cover up your improprieties in Congress.

Shame on you, Mr. DeLay. If you had based your decisions on your Christian upbringing then I would write a letter to that church and ask them what on earth they're preaching. If you had a family history resembling this situation then I would at least give your arguments more gravity. But no, this is just shameful. And you'll never apologize, will you? No, because you don't backtrack, you don't admit mistakes, you can't err.

Mr. DeLay, according to the Bible, only God was reputed not to err, and even He admited that, by His own actions, He had done that once or twice.

At any rate, Mr. Representative, I hope that your health is well. After all, it's hard to find a doctor you can trust, now, isn't it?

She's Like...Tall

2005-04-26T02:28:00.000-07:00

My girlfriend, Ms. Lotsalists, is like

my skin being pulled tight and then relaxed again
a settling of the body into the perfect position in bed, the blanket falling into place
the cold, exposed feeling right after a shower
maintaining balance when the ground is moving under me
hearing a cork pop out of a champagne bottle
exhaling a contained breath
sitting down with a bowl of ice cream

(see, told ya it was unfinished)

Middle Class? What's That?

2005-04-14T19:48:00.000-07:00

Esatate Tax Holds Breath, Bankruptcy Laws Change
Wealth More Concentrated, Dozens Rejoice

In what promises to become a holy week for 1% of Americans, the estate tax is weakened and filing for bankruptcy becomes harder to file for. Thanks Congress.

The estate tax, which affects individuals inheriting estates valued at more than $3.5 million and couples inheriting at more than $7 million, could, if left untouched, keep social security and Medicare alive longer.

Meanwhile, bankruptcy for those earning median incomes becomes harder in many ways. Even those who have been ill or laid off are unprotected by scrutiny and may not be able to file. Not even veterans returning from Afghanistan or Iraq, many earning less than schoolteachers, can expect some form of last-ditch effort. Even people who have had their identity stolen will probably still be responsible for all debts in their name.

If those who try to file for bankruptcy are approved to do so by a judge, they can do so, but are required by the law to pay for credit counseling.

On the other hand, the super-wealthy are still protected, able to sheild complex offshore bank accounts via bankruptcy and generally save as much money as possible.

In other news, fuck y'all, I'm moving to Austria.

Love Life with Life Love!

2005-04-14T19:37:00.000-07:00

(pamphlet recently found on a bus)

The Society for Life

Greetings to all! The world is alive with God's will, and it is God's will that life be protected. All life is sacred, from possible life at conception all the way through death and into the after-life, where the just, righteous, and pious live an ever-lasting life with God.

God loves you and wants you to live!

This is evident from the very beginning! It is so easy to start a life and care for it. And medical advances, given to us by monks and Jesus, have helped to prolong life well past mobility and mental awareness.

Will you please take some time to look over our key programs and chose one or two for a small donation? Usually it just takes a little pocket change!

$1 towards "Seminal Emancipation"
This program seeks out college students to trade one condom from them for an alcoholic beverage from us. While not condoning all acts committed while intoxicated, the Society for Life encourages all natural behaviours to result in natural consequences.

$1 towards "Continued Existence"
This program helps fund life-sustaining equipment and personnel for those who can no longer provide for themselves. This is an excellent way to honor previous generations and maintain their existence on this planet for as long as possible.

$3 towards "Real Voice"
Contributions fund a campaign to force a bill through Congress which would require all second opinions to come from a religious cleric and not a doctor.

$5 towards "God's Frown"
This is a small group seeking aid to transport itself from one Planned Parenthood to the next all across America. Designed to make young couples and pregnant mothers think twice about the evils of contraception and abortion.
*Note: some funds may be used to free fellow Frowners from municipal jails of the life-hating and for hospital visits to treat burn wounds.

Plese note that with a $25 contribution to any of these programs you will automatically join the Society for Life and receive our newsletter for life (of course!)

Take part in our life-enhancing activities!

May 16 - Bi-annual pornography burn-in

June 23 - Lecture: "Homosexuals: Why Do They Hate Children?"

August 2 - Society for Life Founder Anthony O'Toole will share notes from his six-month fact-finding tours of Las Vegas, New Orleans, and Cancuun

Remember, the Society for Life loves you and wants your life on this planet to have meaning. What could have more meaning than to cherish life?! Please join us.

Lines...And Other Things Everyone Knows About

2005-04-12T01:55:00.000-07:00

There is a fuzzy line between dignity and classiness, and if you follow that line around to the other side of the word sphere you'll find Tom Delay's got one foot each in chauvinism and slumminess. Tommy's not the only one, though.

A whole slew of neo-con Republicans - including state attorney generals, congresspersons, and Christian religious leaders - are now whipping up a crusade against "activist judges" who dare to follow the letter of the law. Apparently judges are only supposed to respond to local community standards and not base their decisions on the constitutions of their state or the country. Some of these previously-mentioned zealouts are even outright saying that the American supreme court should be the nation's only court.

"No checks and balances! This makes everything better! Bills will be passed and only occasionally reviewed! And we won't have to consult with lawyers of any sort because we won't have any! Make a law you like and push it until it's passed! Wheee!"

Sounds familiar. Sounds Adolph Hitler and the Shah of Iran familiar. In each case, the most dreaded court dealt only with treason. They found a lot of treason, and in each case a lot of heads rolled. Can anyone say fundamentalist inquisitions?

Ahh, why am I worrying? We're in a constant war on terror. Our fundamentalism has got to be better than theirs, right?

And by the way, some of these people (all men, too...interesting) are saying that we should honor the recently deceased Pope by embracing some of his values. At a mass celebrating Pope John Paul II was Cardinal Bernard Law, the former Archbishop of Boston who moved priests accused of sexual molestation of children from one parish to another to avoid scrutiny. Apparently the Pope liked the idea, so when Law stepped down from the position of Archbishop he was granted the position of archpriest in one of the five major basilicas of the Roman Catholic Church.

Guess the value they're going for is not based on anything specifically Christian or Catholic but rather "protect your own."

Can we draw a line in the sand and stop these thought-control police from continuing? Or is it a big front, like Bush's Social Security scare, to divert attention? Are the ideas being floated more destructive to the fabric of our nation than the actions carried out by terrorists? I think all of the answers are yes, but this is my only PR machine, and my audience agrees with me anyway.

Maybe I'll take up pamphleteering. Or skywriting!

Tora Bora, Here I Come!

2005-03-23T03:06:00.000-08:00

refuse - 1. (v) unwilling to accept; 2. (n) leavings, trash; 3. (?) to change the damn fuse!

~ First off, research is in on that little experiment I was conducting when I started this blog. I posted letters, like (s), (d), and so forth to denote when I was sober, drunk, etc. After months of research and 14 impregnated lab mice (none by me), the results speak clearly. I write when I'm drunk, sober, whatever. So.....whatever.

~ Ok, Terri Schiavo....yeah, I'm tired of it, too. The only two interesting aspects of this ordeal were raised on the venerable airwaves of KGO 810AM by two of their talk-show hosts. First, an amazement that ANYBODY would want the government to have this much power over their lives. "Suffering? Sorry. Our Lord, Who art in Heaven, says you gotta live 'cause life is a Gift you can't refuse, no matter what. Change your pillow?" It's an abuse of power and of the largely Christian beliefs of the country. And that leads to the second point, which is that all of this congressional and executive blabbing and foot-stomping and harumphing is crowding the news while Tom Delay's infractions go unseen. It also looks good for Bush's administration since he just cut all funding to a 30-year old federal program providing housing aid for the disabled...which is the technical classification for Ms. Terri Schiavo.

~ The company that I work for, IKEA, is truly a powerhouse of innovation, environmental responsibility, and social conscienceness. Why, just the other day I saw a homeless man in San Francisco using one of the IKEA shopping bags to collect aluminum cans out of garbage containers...

~ Question: What do you do with your pennies? If I'm fishing for silver in my pocket and I come across Lincoln, I generally just throw it into the street. Otherwise, it winds up in a copper pile by my alarm clock. You?

~ The Army wants to extend the recruitment age from 34 to 39 years of age. See? No Social Security? No medical benefits? Well, here's your gun, here's your helmet, here's your hurry.

~ Remember back a few years when Bush's army said that they would give the job of finding Osama bin Laden to the Afghan army because they just weren't sure if he was there or not? Well, we just found out that he was, and he got away. Can you imagine what would be different today if he had been caught? Or killed? Trouble is, I think that Bush would've still said "Okay, next?"

~ Final Crap: I think that my Albertson's next door is being re-constructed by Haliburton. It's taken longer than it should've, it's already been protested, and it sucks. Conspiracy...

Days Run Away Like Wild Horses Over the Hills

2005-03-09T02:27:00.000-08:00

AAAAAUUUUUUUUGHGHHHHHHHGGHGHGHGHGHGHHGh!!!!!!!

Mortal sin! Venial sin! Oh, I pound my chest and flagellate my ankles....

It's what you get for doing that on too regular a basis, though, I suppose. Perhaps my fascination, extrapolation, subjugation, indignation, and morbidity of, to, and about myself have caused this godawful thing to slip past me.

Did it slip past me? Did someone tell me and I was uncaring due to the above afflictions? Is that what happened? A thousand vipers to pass through my digestive system, rusty nailhooks pounded into my....

oh, yes, I interupted myself...

FUCK! Damn it! I've gotta get help in seeing this with the two of you, Ms. Lotsalists and Mrs. L. It must happen.

What is it?

Oh, just this.

Miss that? Try this.

Miss that, too? Try this, but wait for it to load (for a while, but you hear HIM read!)

I am unworthy...or it is bad. Can't tell which yet. I'm too excited. Hold on.

Okay, Rotten Tomatoes says it's 83% fresh, so that's good. Roger Ebert, whom I don't always agree with but who has valuable insights into film and characters, gives it 3 1/2 stars, near best. (btw: as usual, his last two paragraphs are the best)

Okay....I gotta buy it. Someday. In the meantime, it's gotta be rented. Who wants to help. I'd call y'all right now, but it's 2:20 a.m., and I'm not yet drunk enough to do it and damn the consequences. I'll post and you answer. Ok? Ok.

Damn my bones to slow grinding under seventeen-ton slugs!

Sorry, reading Small Gods right now.

Yeah, Hasan, Out With It

2005-03-08T00:45:00.000-08:00

When did I start geting tired when I woke up?

How did I become such a cynical person? When did my daily cheerfulness fly away?

Why is it that only recently I restrain myself from speaking so as not to sound bone-headed?

When did my eyes cease to focus on beauty and art, turning instead into glazed observers of monotony? When did a rainbow become a fact?

Did the fuel run out, or has it turned into something else? Can I live on it?

Or

Another time I saw a child coming toward me holding a lighted torch in his hand. "Where have you brought the light from?" I asked him. He immediately blew it out, and said to me, "O Hasan, tell me where it is gone, and I will tell you whence I fetched it.
-Hasan Basri

I Can Have a List, Too!

2005-02-21T23:32:00.000-08:00

Only recently have I become aware of the list of celebrities with whom one is allowed to sleep with only once, incurring no wrath from your loved one. I used to just play this with friends occasionally. A few weeks ago, my girlfriend said "you know, THE LIST" as though I hadn't heard of it before (although this is not a common occurance). Then, the following week, I read a quick reference to "The List" in the San Francisco Chronicle's "Datebook" section.

Now that I'm aware of something that everyone is tired with, I'll present my list.

"The List"

Living

Angelina Jolie (even homophobic straight women from Indiana want to do her)
Jeneane Garofolo (too cute, too cool, although I'm fearful that if she doesn't get sloppy drunk fast that she'd talk so intelligently that I'd hide my face in shame)
Meg White (also cute and cool, and she's a musician to boot! oh, shit, guys...now *I* fell in love with a drummer!)
Kate Winslet (I get the impression that she'd be fun at a bar for, like, three or four hours and then have quick sex and then stay up for another couple of hours smoking and laughing, don't you? too bad I'm physically incapable of that last half)
Susan Sarandon (her history of hotness is too impressive to list here; there are websites that do that...trust me)
Helena Bonham Carter (have you SEEN "Fight Club"? trash-mouthed chain-smoking theif! theif who stole my heart! just leave the monkey mask at home, dear)
Martine McCutcheon (Natalie from "Love Actually", British cutie...with good teeth!)

Shucked of Their Mortal Coil (no, I'm not going to sleep with their corpses, just wait for a time machine to be invented)

Marilyn Monroe (yeah, standard, but you can't tell me that after watching "Some Like it Hot" that you wouldn't want to share a train compartment with her...or an airplane bathroom, beach towel, park bench, etc.)
Jane Russell (tall, voluptuous, gorgeous; attitude, attitude, attitude)
Betty Page (problem is, I'm afraid that she'd just go into a lot of poses in bed...just like every woman I've ever had)(dead?)
Grace Kelly (there's something reserved about her photos that I love, that I would want to slip behind and find out what else there is...like screaming obscenities during wild sex)

we were walking

2005-02-14T23:42:00.001-08:00

we were walking
back from the theater
by the lakeshore (I was
carrying leftover Chinese food),
and lights surrounded the lake
like specially placed stars
around a murky stillness

my hair was standing on end
as the sentiments to describe
our time together rushed in
and out of my head,
never pausing long enough to
leave my mouth; they just
danced around in a ring
and left

(and I silently punched myself
later for not whipping my
calm, sedate self into wave
after wave of love to drench you)

and eventually we made it to
the store and back to my place,
drinking ourselves silly and
loving each other all the same

now I'm over myself, and I
just think of that time
we were walking back from
the theater with more love
than I thought possible

Valentine's Day for Everyone

2005-02-14T23:42:00.000-08:00

Today is Valentine's Day, and it's almost over. Nearly all of the flowers, dinners, and candies have made their way from one lover to another, and the nookie is about to do the same. My hope is that all of those participating in the day's prescribed activities with their partner have some fun relishing their romance at the exact same time as everyone else.

I also hope for you that the chocolate/dinner/flowers/lovemaking are all done only on this one day of the year. They're just so typical "Valentine's Day" (TM) and everyone seems so fixated on it (hell, it was even satyrized in "Desperate Housewives") that they've kind of lost their romantic luster, at least for me.

Something I've learned in the last year and a half is just how important it is to share the love you have with the one you have. I've pretty much dropped the ball on all of the important, normal ways of showing/sharing this. After it was pointed out, I kind of felt like a heel. But then I started to just "show up" more; I shared more about how I felt, I opened up, I listened more, I started to do more of the little things in life for her. Now, I still don't feel like I do much, but she says that she sees it, that she knows that I love her, and she appreciates it.

So, I hope there are little things done daily to share love between you and your partner throughout the year. A kiss or an "I love you" or a fuck are all nice ways, but there's nothing like little personal things that are just for the two of you. Remember them, revel in your love, and cherish your loved.

Rant (a rant)

2005-02-07T20:30:00.000-08:00

So here it goes, typical story: life is good and I am not. Nothing new, everything different, same old same old, blah blah blah blah. "How's it going, Chris?" "Could be better." Anyone got a light? Hey, did the sun just rise? Take me all out and put me back in again. BART BART BART (it's fun to say three times fast, makes you sound like one of your neurons is fried) "What's wrong Chris?" "Well, I'm here." MY stapler, MY phone, MY paperwork, MY customers, MY tunnel vision. Nicotene is my god, and caffeine is its bride (anyone got a light?). Anyone else up for staring blankly for ten minutes? "How you doin'?" "Okay." "Just okay?" (savemesavemesaveme) "No, I'm doing better than that." (savemesavemesaveme) BART BART BART (wheee!). What to say? Who am I? Why am I the only one different? Why can't I talk? Who brought this silence? Take it away! "Well..." Quick, can you relate to even your loved ones? What's changed? Who are you? Are you a horse or are those crutches? There's got to be a genie in one of these bottles; check 'em all! Let the empties roll around on the floor of this ship, back and forth, back and forth. Captain? Hello? Lights out. Seems like I need my Energizers replaced. Or are they rechargable? Want to wait while I fiddle around and find out? Ahhh...now what? What happened? Why am I scared? Nothing's changed, so what's different? "How are you?" "Kafka-esque." I'm not playing the part: I'm here, I'm me. This is not happening to someone else; I've got to react or make way for the consequences. No freezing. Tread water or get washed away. Anyone got a light?

O-n-e L-e-t-t-e-r a-t a T-i-m-e

2005-01-27T19:36:00.000-08:00

I wrote this today and submitted it to the Department of Education. (and yes, Miss Lit, it was partially inspired by what I'm currently reading)

Dear Margaret Spellings,

In regards to your request submitted to PBS station WGBH of Boston that they not show an episode of "Postcards From Buster" due to your belief that "Many parents would not want their young children exposed to the lifestyles portrayed in the episode," I would like to remind you to do your job instead.

Children living in urban areas still do not have adequate education due to lack of funds, lack of parental support, overcrowding, or lack of teacher qualifications. Most students in high school now, thanks in part to No Child Left Behind, are not being taught to think and learn on their own but rather are "taught the test" by teachers who want to pass their students to receive higher funding. Administrative spending on unnecessary projects, or funneling funds into other accounts, is creating a black hole of funding, to the point where we may end up spending hundreds of thousands of dollars on a student and they will be no better able to handle the real world than when they were five years old.

But I guess that doesn't matter to you. You weren't hired to address those issues. You are where you are because you agree to say "No Child Left Behind" at every opportunity. Well, that and to remove any suggestion that homosexual couples who start their own families are to be discussed between parents and their children, much less observed. It's true that parents often watch this show with their children, and the parents would be there to answer questions, but you've given every parent in America the answer by telling them what they "would not want."

I suppose that I had better stop bothering you. You've made quite an impact in your first week already and I'm sure that you're still completing the open letter to all of America's public teachers informing them that prayer in schools allows students a better clarity of mind and should be encouraged daily. Or maybe you're still hammering out the details of pushing the education of the theory of evolution out of K-12 and into colleges only and using "intelligent design" instead.

Or maybe you're going to act like the head of the FCC again.

Don't tell me. Let it be a surprise.

Sincerely,

A Very Concerned Citizen

The Future! (part 1)

2005-01-19T02:16:00.000-08:00

This marks the first of many predictions I have about...The Future! My Nostradomus-like and -esque visions will fill several posts. Be warned! You may lose your mind or forget to tap the ashes from your cigarette while reading these! You are warned.

In...The Future! (whoosh sound)

In the future, not only will the cola wars will continue to re-shape the economic, political, sexual, and geograpical landscape of the entire globe, but they will actually involve cola...and 7-UP! Let's take a peek at future milestones.

2007:
Pepsi pays the Olsen twins to have their tops ripped off by WWF wrestlers during the halftime of the Superbowl.
Coke secretly pays the Olsen twins more money to wear Coke pasties when it happens.
7-UP points out that it's 2007 and that the number seven is part of their name.

2015:
Pepsi (after FTC restrictions about content are lifted for comercials only) releases a TV advertisement with naked supermodels making out with each other while an off-screen woman's voice huskily whispers "Pepsi...Pepsi...Pepsi..."
Coke counters with a wordless advertisement featuring a woman slowly fellating the cameraman with the Coke symbol added to her tongue using computer graphics.
7-UP pays a homeless Tom Green to eat a can of 7-UP and then pass it through a bowel movement in 12 separate commercial segments spanning three months.
2024:
Pepsi has 247 different sodas available on the market.
Coke has 248 different sodas available on the market.
7-UP adds "Caffeinated 7-UP" to its soda line, bringing their total up to three.

2045: The Sugar Riots of '45 leave the cola companies (as well as 7-UP, but no one notices) desparate until a new method of extracting sugar from both watermelons and yams is perfected in 2046.

2061-2064: The real cola wars occur. With geopolitical tides rising and falling at the whim of corporations, Coke and Pepsi stage wars with North America fighting South America, Europe fighting Asia, and Africa fighting the Middle East. 7-UP claims Australia which, during the madness of the conflagrations, sends boats to Antartica for ice secure in the knowledge that no one is paying attention to them anyway.

2065: Postwar casualties claim nearly fifty million people. The Rio De Jinero peace accords are signed and both Coke and Pepsi throw a one-month party for their affiliates in Rio. 7-UP owns Australia.

2089:
Pepsi invests in both moon and asteroid property, allowing people who have shown past affiliation with the company, and who swear an allegiance of loyalty for themselves and the next three generations, the ability to flee an overly polluted and violent Earth to become interplanetary miners for several of Pepsi's subsidieries.
Coke undercuts Pepsi by purchasing all interplanetary spaceships and their manufacturers.
7-UP points out that their cans of soda, still made out of old-fashioned aluminum, are the perfect weight and size to throw at invading mole people and dreaded, mutant "killer" football-sized bees.

2111: After humans evolve to a purely soda and canabalism diet, sugar production screams to a halt. But artificial sweeteners offer a ready substitute:
Pepsi switches to Splendina, which they describe as sugar's sexier twin.
Coke switches to Fulfillness, which they describe as orgasmic.
7-UP switches to Sweet 'N Low.

3000: During the fourth day of the apocalypse, news reporters ask God "What is your favorite soda?" Answer?
"Well, that doesn't sound like an intelligent question, Larry. Any rational person could see that it's obvious: 7-UP. Seven is, like, a very special number to me, as is the number three, and there are two letters and one number making the name of that soda - it adds up to three! And "UP"...I mean, come on...is there anyone more "UP" than me? Only the Australians and the mole people of Queen Pnxalzza are going to be spared. Don't let me see you reach for one, Larry! You're screwed! You're alllll screwed!"

3001: Satan finally stops making brominated vegetable oil, allowing the hole in the ozone layer to heal itself.

Because I Can, Because You Can't

2005-01-18T20:38:00.000-08:00

As international tensions increase and media coverage of tabloid updates over true news leaves us wondering if Bart and Ashlee Simpson are related (and if they did it), I take it upon myself to use this space to finally share just what I should have long ago:

I can pee standing up.

Yes, it's true, and not only that, but here's a short list of things that I can do while performing this remarkable feat:

-brush hair
-brush teeth
-brush someone else's teeth
-scratch self
-scratch someone else
-order a pizza
-admire self in mirror
-loathe self in mirror
-shave
-play hide-and-seek with my toes (behind my belly)
-smoke
-drink
-pick nose
-pretend I'm conducting an orchestra
-pretend I'm holding a light-saber (seriously, did George Lucas think that he was fooling anyone? why didn't he just call the whole saga "Laser Dicks" and get it over with?)
-form a bubble pile
-...and then annihilate it
-take stock of what I need in the bathroom (and then promptly forget it)
-wave like the queen
-wave at the queen
-hail a cab (usually only outdoors)

And yes, before you can even ask, it does hurt...but the penecilin is helping

Dos Margaritas, Por Favor!

2005-01-12T01:23:00.000-08:00

In my eyes no birthday celebration would be complete without good friends, good food, laughter, singing, alcohol, cigarettes, slow dances, and goats. (The goats are on backorder, but don't tell my girlfriend...secret gift!) Monday was a blast for myself and MissLists. She is now officially over the "I'm twenty-one!" hump and rolling on towards bland adulthood. Welcome to the 'hood, honey!

I'm stating a falsehood, actually. This girl...*ahem*...this woman...*aHEM*...this womyne has been very adult when and where it counts, in fact more so than most adults I've known. And yet she still draws from a resivoir of child-like gaiety when approaching her passions or her personal pleasures or throwing things. But, in all, these are just two (1) of the things that initially attracted me to her, and just two of the things that continue to hold me in her warm embrace.

Seriously, though...she's a beautiful, powerful, intelligent, capable person...I am nonplussed in her presence and graced by her attention and love. I can only hope to spend many more years in her love, attempting to give her as much as she has given me, showing her all of the beauty that I see in her, and supporting her in whatever way I can.

I know, I know...sappier than a maple tree. Too bad.
----------------------------------------------------------------

Too sappy? Ok. Have you heard the one about how George W. Bush officially called off the search for WMDs in Iraq right before Christmas? It goes like this...

HE WAS LYING!!!

(clears throat) Thank you. I'll be here all week.

(1) Out of roughly 54

Know Your Ho Ho's From Your Ho's

2004-12-23T23:40:00.000-08:00

http://www.humanspeakers.com/audi/images/prostitutes.jpg
http://www.japantoday.com/dbfiles/news/rnp_asia-72030-2_picture-55629.4155.jpg
http://gbgm-umc.org/photos/9435513b.jpg

I am full of fucking holliday joy.

So full I'm gonna vomit.

Let me just first say that I really do wish the world a peaceful and merry holliday season. Love, joy, peace...it's all in the mix this year, and I think it's just fan-fucking-tastic.

Now that I've got that bit of sacharine out of the way...

Does every retailer have to play the same damn holliday music over and over again? This year I've heard about the 1,728 days of Christmas in only five different renditions. And did you know that only 25 seconds of "Feliz Navidad" is enough to get it stuck in your head for the rest of the day? So why is it four minutes long? As if the music wasn't enough, there are constant sales advertisements all over the place (hell, I think I'm wearing one somewhere on my body), more frocking per store than ever existed in all of Germany in the 19th century, and wrapping stations at every door. As if I'm going to startle myself on Dec. 23 and say "Oh, is it Christmas already? How could I have known?" Of course, since it all started on the first day of November, it's kinda hard to figure out just when the season really begins.

And in case you haven't heard yet, this is the best time of the year to surprise the one you love with a brand new Volvo, BMW, or Mercedes. Just because a lot of Americans are unsure of just how they're going to pay for little Timmy's operation doesn't mean you can't help support the euro.

Perhaps I'm being too cynical, but it's difficult for me to warmly embrace retailers when Target kicked the Salvation Army to the curb. "What do we look like, suckers? You bring your pocket change here, you *spend* it here!"

It drove me so crazy that I bought two dozen of these. Look forward to checking your stocking next year.

That's why this year I've been taking Christmas on in a winner gets eternal bragging rights, loser gets a candy-cane battle. I've got less experience, but I've got a cell phone and I'm a mean, mean drunk. Here are my notes on the last two weeks:

12/6/04: Convinced children in a Toys R' Us to ask their parents for "Peace on Earth," convincing the little tykes that it was a new Lord of the Rings laser gun that spewed sugar and puppies. Stunned parents told thier children that they would do what they could. I would have gotten away with it if I hadn't stuck around to look at the Star Wars stuff. Kids pointed me out and I had to knock down Jeffrey to stall for running time. Smoked while doing it. Sprained lung.

12/10/04: Found what I believe to be one of Santa Claus' nefarious elves. Grabbed him off the street and took him to my room. He's now tied up in the closet, wriggling and trying to scream for help through the balled up pair of underwear that I've lodged in his mouth. I think that alright for now, but do elves have telepathy? Are other elves coming? Is Big Red himself trying to un-wedge himself from the barco-lounger in order to save one of his little people? Time will tell.

12/14/04: His name is Jorge, and he's not an elf, he's a midget. He's an out-of-work midget. He's been smoking my cigarettes and using my Internet to look for work, although I think he looks at midget porn when I'm out. I've given him five more days and he's out, which should be plenty of time for an out of work midget pimp to find his midget hos and start his all-midget pimpire.

12/19/04: Walked the streets wearing bedsheets, trying to convince people that I'm Jesus. I gave them the old "It's not about the material possesions, the real DL is that I was born, and it was smokin'." Unfortunately people took me seriously and demanded my sandals, my "robes", my book of hymns, my cigs, my forty...it was quite unsetlling for a first-time Jesuit. I was running naked for about 9 blocks, my followers demanding more, before the police arrived and saved me. My cellmate that night turned out to be Jorge, the midget pimp. Apparently he decided to use some "tall" women to build up collateral, but upon raising his head to inquire he looked up their skirts and invited protest, and then beatings, and then the police. I gave him some sage advice and he lent me his pants, which fit me like boxers.

So I guess I didn't quite "beat" Christmas, but it's only up 2-0. (I don't count Jorge since I did the Christmas-y thing and gave him room and board and porn). I'm a fresh contender, only 27 and much to prove to the world.

In the meantime, there's only one day left until Christmas. I think I'll warm up for next year on the local nativity scene.

What Else Did I Expect?

2004-12-14T23:15:00.000-08:00

Life gets weird. Then it seems to get sane. Then it just gets stupid.

Nothing was out of sorts until I developed a strange rash that slowly found its way from my thighs to my underarms, then my neck, then my lower back. Hydrocortisone cream didn't quite work, and then I mentioned it to someone at work. THEY said that some other people at work had developed the same thing. I reported it to my work and PRESTO, I'm in my employer's work-related injury clinic (at least it was free). Diagnosis? Unknown. But the doctor suggested using hydrocortisone ointment, which works like a miracle and now I'm back to being relatively normal. Then my employers lose my vacation request slip and my paycheck relfected only one week of work instead of drawing off of the 86 hours of vacation pay that I had acrued. Both managers, mine and payroll's, say they did everything right, but where is it? I filled out a new one and they sent it to corporate, who got back to me on Monday and cut me a check. At least my landlord understands and is willing to grant me time to get all of the monies.

And now, for Christmas...

Actually, I haven't got anything yet, but I'm sure that I'll come up with something last-minute like I did for Thanksgiving.

Trying to get my dad into Kevin Smith. Any suggestions?

Top Five Favorite Covers (currently)

5. Johnny Rotten - "My Way"
4. Weezer (maybe) - "Uptown Girl"
3. Jeff Buckley - "Hallelujah"
2. Smoking Popes - "Crazy Train".
1. Postal Service - "Against All Odds" ("Take a Look at Me Now")

And the final argument will go to a homeless man at the bus shelter tonight who argued that Elvis did NOT have bad hair.

Got Phlebotomized Today...and I Peed in a Cup!

2004-12-03T02:36:00.000-08:00

Weeeeeeeee! Did everybody else's vacation go by fast too? No? Just me? Wow.

Okay, first: websites.

http://www.apologiesaccepted.com/index.html (exactly what you think it is)

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Main_Page (cool online free encyclopedia)

http://www.hoder.com/weblog/ (weblog of an Iranian now living in Canada; good example of politically powerful blogging, in my humble opinion; read "Blogs: best space for public discourse in Iran" for a good example)

Now I haven't done any lists for, like...um...I don't know, I don't read my stuff. "A while" seems accurate. So now, to steal a device, my current four "Top Five" music lists.

Top Five Artists/Groups I'll Never See Live:

5. Duke Ellington
4. Queen
3. Jimi Hendrix
2. Beatles
1. Nirvana

runner ups: The Clash, Billie Holiday, and Jeff Buckley

Top Five Groups to See Live

5. Weezer (why not?)
4. Presidents of the United States of America
3. They Might Be Giants
2. White Stripes
1. Duvall (hey, three out of four ex-Smoking Popes members can't be all that bad!)

Top Five Individual-Artist-Name "Bands" I Should See (if I haven't already)
5. Ani (soon)
4. Glenn Phillips (even sooner)
3. Tori
2. Alanis Morisette
1. Tracy Chapman (seen her twice and she performed only two songs each time...not enough!)

Top Five Favorite Band Names (currently)

5. Duvall
4. Smoking Popes
3. Beta Band
2. Ass Baboons From Venus
1. The Fucking Champs (I shit you not)

Evolve, Dammit

2004-11-30T20:32:00.000-08:00

In the 2004 election the state of Pennsylvania was decidedly pro-Kerry, seemingly endorsing the candidate or at least objecting to Bush, the incumbent. I mistakenly thought that the entire state would have some semblance of liberal or at least intellectual rationality (said rationality conforming, of course, to my own standards). Waking up from dreams can be disorienting sometimes, but it's good for a kick in the sensibilities. That's why, at first, I found this article to be so upsetting. The first time I heard about this form of education on the theory of evolution was that it would take place in Texas, but Pennsylvania? That was my ignorance, and maybe arrogance as well.

On further reading the article I became even more concerned by just how the theory will be applied. It must be taught that evolution as a theory seems to have been proven many times over, but that "gaps" can ONLY be explained by some "divine source" which HAD to have directed evolution. That line of thinking leaves absolutely no room for argument. The gaps are not shortcommings in the field (whether a lack of funds or equipment, limited time, or low expertise), nor to the very, very recent research to investigate the theory (only about the last 150 years), nor to the layers of earth in continuous upheaval, possibly destroying all evidence. None of these reasons are adequate enough. Only a "divine source" could explain it, and that answer, more mysterious than anything else in the discussion, closes the book on further speculation.

Let me put it another way: human arrogance, even in the face of God, is so twisted that there can be no other answers as to why "gaps" in the theory of evolution appear other than that some god-like figure is directing its path. NOT that we simply haven't found answers, since we're so amazingly good at finding evidence or answers for everything, but that the evidence isn't there, and a mere 150 years of serious geological and biological study is all that we require to find any or all answers to the history of all biology on this planet.

I believe that it's simply not that simple. Big, complicated questions demand big, complicated answers, not a one-word, big name answer: "God." The only follow-up question to that is "Why?" and the only answer is "Because." Alright, that's over-simplification as well, but the trail of questions really doesn't go much further than that in any case. This is a tone of discouragement to the youth of America, quietly telling them not to consider the issue without either using a godly frame of mind or telling them to trucate all exploration of the issue and move on to other topics.
I'm going to state the obvious now and point at the current state of natinoal affairs as the primary culprit. We seem to want only simple answers.

Q: Who's bad?
A: Osama bin Laden, Saddam Hussein, maybe Kim Jong Il, maybe some Iranians.
Q: Why?
A: They hate America, they hate your freedom, they hate Christians.

Q: What's wrong with liberalism?
A: Higher taxes, porn on TV, lesbian schoolteachers, gay Santa Clauses.

Q: How does the U.S., with all of its financial, intellectual, and (supposedly) moral strength, respond to countries or individuals who are violently rebellious against the United States' imperialistic ventures across the globe?
A: Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines.

Hey, man, is it hard to get a job? Don't worry! Housewives are coming back!

Should we explore what the sanctity of marriage really means? No. And no.

Why is abortion only bad and never good? Oh, right, God. (although there are at least a few more intellectual and less knee-jerk responses to this question, but they haven't swayed me)

It's not that I think that believing in God is a detriment to an open mind, rather that said belief in God is very common, and it's a common thread in our Christian nation, especially with our very, very Christian leaders in place. What I hate more is that God is used as a crutch for short-term answers which can lead to long-term ignorance, preferably to control and sway a group of people, especially children, for whom the churches spend much time drilling in the "God" answer. Isn't God greater than that? Wouldn't God be offended that "God" would be given as an answer to everything, especially since we are supposedly some of God's greatest work, able to use our minds in any way we see fit as long as we always love God and each other? What could be more flattering to a deity than for Her/His little creations roaming around trying to find out more about Her/His other wonders?

Nope, nope, can't let it happen; wouldn't be prudent. Junior's got to practice football but he'll be here forever if he has to understand evolution. Just tell him "God" and let him get on his way. He'll remember that answer: they always praise God when they win the game.

What? Oh, no, no. Only when they win.

Drano for my Brain-o

2004-11-29T20:55:00.000-08:00

Went to the doctor today and he set up lab paperwork and a follow-up appointment. I'll schedule a lab appointment for either Wednesday or Thursday so they can play with my blood and find out what's inside it (should be interesting). Then my doc will talk about what kind of anti-convulsant will be best for me. Hopefully it's one that doesn't leave me feeling groggy.

Other:
I want Julia Roberts to cry. I have no other reason other than to allow her to remove that smile from her face for a little while. I think that it's a dam holding back all of her darker sides. Put down the newborns for an hour, Julia, and let me help you!

Also:
Applied for an office assistant job for a man who published a book called "F'd Companies." I love the Bay Area.

Finally:
I love partying and having fun, but at least I never woke up like these people the next day:

http://images.phun.org/phun/specials/afterparty/phun.org_afterparty_20.jpg
http://images.phun.org/phun/specials/afterparty/phun.org_afterparty_5.jpg
http://images.phun.org/phun/specials/afterparty/phun.org_afterparty_26.jpg
http://images.phun.org/phun/specials/afterparty/phun.org_afterparty_15.jpg
http://images.phun.org/phun/specials/afterparty/phun.org_afterparty_14.jpg
http://images.phun.org/phun/specials/afterparty/phun.org_afterparty_23.jpg
http://images.phun.org/phun/specials/afterparty/phun.org_afterparty_40.jpg

Did I mention that I also love the Internet?

Just One Post of My Day. Just One!

2004-11-26T09:07:00.000-08:00

Turkey day came and went, and I had only one slice of the fabled bird. But more of that later.

I tried to clean up before my dad came to pick me up from Oakland for the trek to Sacramento for dinner with our family. When he arrived my mom was with him...unexpected development. Ugh. I wasn't looking forward to it, and she didn't fail to live up to expectations. First off, when did her color scheme go out of whack? She dresses fine, but it looks like she's been taking makeup tips from prostitutes. BAD prostitutes. Anyway, she was mildly amused at the small, small space of my studio and expressed disapointment (of course) that I didn't let her know of my need for a mattress since she was getting rid of hers before moving into Section 8 housing up in good old Napa...'cause, you know, she would have helped me move it down here, right?

Anyway, the trip back to Napa to drop her off was just wonderful, what with my mom being a backseat driver the whole way, pissing on anyone who mildly interupted her fabulously entertaining stories on the way. What? Charm? Wait, I made that into two separate sentences...

The trip to Sac was better than it could have been, even given the predictable holiday traffic. My dad's an entertaining guy and a trip to listen to to boot.

The family was great and I met my new...um...second cousin? What is a cousin's child to me? I don't know. All I know is that he's cute as hell (hopefully I'll post some pictures soon).

Interesting stuff (at least to me):
-If Scott Peterson gets a death sentence, he'll be sent to San Quinten and my cousin (the father of my something-cousin) will interview him to determine his danger in prison, likelihood of suicide, correct cell placement, etc. My cousin has an interesting job.

-My aunt finally met her two daughters. There's ancient history wrapped up in this, but it was an interesting meeting from all accounts.

-Ancient history: When my aunt was preparing to feed anything slightly messy to my cousins, she would make them take off their white t-shirts first, making sure that they wouldn't spoil clothes that she had to re-wash. To this day, they often change their shirts before eating.

GREAT food, too, even the turkey (which I usually don't enjoy except in slices from the deli), and Krug cab sav and Blue Nun was served and enjoyed.

And would it have been a complete Thanksgiving without some football? No? How about actual football, you know, soccer? My uncle watched his favorite team, Manchester United, kick somebody's ass, but I wasn't watching.
All in all a short but pleasing Thanksgiving. Multiple Christmases here I come!

Giants, Food, and More Food

2004-11-25T10:00:00.000-08:00

Okay, attempting a re-post of this blog since not everything posted. This is getting weird.

So I'm listening to "She's an Angel" in my head over and over again when I'm not listening to it on my computer over and over again. And I like it. And that's annoying me. Can't explain it...but maybe this will help.

The following is a list of recipies guaranteed to keep you out of the kitchen for many Thanksgivings to com. I claim no responsibility for it, except for most of it. The facts were Googled, so I see no point in sourcing them.

"Feast"

We shall not flag or fail. We shal go on to the end. We shall eat in stretchy pants, we shall eat of the peas and carrots, we shall eat with growing confidence and growing strength in the beer, we shall defend our salad, whatever the greens may be, we shall eat of the pies, we shall eat of the turkey, we shall eat of the 'taters and gravy, we shall eat our fill; we shall never surrender.

turkey

"I met someone at the worm show
She was pecking my left arm
But everyone was acting normal so I tried to look vegetarian."

Turkey Recipie: After either killing or thawing turkey, cover with aluminum foil and place in pre-heated 375 degree oven. After an hour and a half remove turkey and stuff it with bread and butter and beer-batter it. Place it back into the oven and then stuff yourself with bread and butter and beer-batter yourself. Note: no matter what you smell or how many sirens you hear, no turkey is done before the end of the last football game. Remove cinder and begin chiseling.

Turkey Facts:
-Six hundred seventy-five million pounds of turkey are eaten each Thanksgiving in the United States.
-Turkeys have heart attacks. The United States Air Force was doing test runs and breaking the sound barrier. Nearby turkeys dropped dead with heart attacks.
-Wild turkeys spend the night in trees. They especially like oak trees.
-In England, 200 years ago, turkeys were walked to market in herds. They wore booties to protect their feet. Turkeys were also walked to market in the United States.
-Turkey breeding has caused turkey breasts to grow so large that the turkeys fall over.

cranberries

bran cries; bar crier; brain scene; barn rice; acne brie; car bees; seen bra; cairn seer

Cranberry Recipie: Using canopener, open can of cranberries. Stand around in kitchen and wait until someone enters. When they ask if you're done with the cranberries, say "What do you mean 'done'? This is a fucking ART, and if you don't appreciate that, then maybe you don't need any cranberries this year!" Immediately take a shot of hard liqour and yell at them to leave the kitchen.

Cranberry Facts:
-A 1994 study published in the Journal of the American Medical Association suggests that routine consumption (daily 10 oz. serving) of cranberry beverages with 27% cranberry juice content helps to maintain a healthy urinary tract.
-Wisconsin produces about half of the United States' annual crop of cranberries. Massachusetts produces about another third of the crop. The remaining U. S. cranberry crop comes mainly from New Jersey, Oregon, and Washington.
-Cranberries are native to Northern America, except for the quirky Irish style.

mashed potatoes

mash!
pound!
down!
up!
mash! taters taters taters taters taters taters taters
pound! taters taters taters taters taters taters taters
down! taters taters taters taters
up! taters taters taters taters
mash! pound! up! down!

Mashed Potatoes Recipie: Empty half the potatoes out of the sack and tie a knot at the top. Take outside to nearest asshole relative's car and mercilessly beat sack against car. Be sure to rotate bag once every minute and move on to new part of car once in a while. Pour mess into pot and keep on low heat for 20 minutes. For gravy, soak all diry socks in bathtub, then squeeze out into pot, adding baking soda for thickness. Simmer.

Potato Facts:
-The sweet potato belongs in the same family as morning glories while the white (Irish) potato belongs to the same group as tomatoes, tobacco, chile pepper, eggplant and the petunia.
-The average American eats about 124 pounds of potatoes per year while Germans eat about twice as much.
-Thomas Jefferson gets the credit for introducing "french fries" to America when he served them at a White House dinner.
-The potato inherently produces a smoother vodka than its grain counterpart, but 99% of all vodkas in the world are distilled from grain, often corn, wheat, or rye.

pie

"Let there be pie!"
"It was the best of pies, it was the worst of pies..."
"November is the kindest month, breeding pies out of the dead oven..."
"Hold me, try me, kiss me, pie me..."
"O God! I could be bounded in a pieshell, and count myself a king of delicious space, were it not that I have gooey dreams..."

Pie Recipie: Drain the blood of your enemy's offspring and use their flesh to bake a pie. Invite enemy to dinner. Inform them of your culinary actions only just before you kill them. (This may prompt your enemy's lover to instantly kill you and for your own offspring to instantly kill said lover, but nothing is written in stone). (thank you Shakespeare and Taymor)

Pie Facts:
-A survey by the American Pie Council and Crisco® found that apple pie is the favorite flavor among one out of four Americans, followed by pumpkin, chocolate, lemon meringue and cherry.
-Before pie was America's favorite dessert, fruit pies were commonly eaten as part of breakfast in the 19th century.
-A pie often yields six to eight slices, but pi is never-ending.

Seaplane!

2004-11-19T20:23:00.000-08:00

I'm tired of all the worry in my mind. I'm tired of being scared.

I'd like to go through a day without having fantasies of one doom-and-gloom scenario or another - or a multitude of them - occupying my foremost thoughts and time. The day is beautiful, the love I have for my girlfriend is reciprocated (and she is a wonderful, lovely, shining person), my friends are loving and supportive, my parents are doing well, and I can't see it. The focus remains on the negative, on the horrible possibilities in life.

I want to be able to spend time with my girlfriend or friends and not experience gut-wrenching worry about saying something ultimately stupid (which keeps my mouth shut). I'd like to go through any social engagement without the fear of embarassment at best and committing some huge blunder or drastic mistake at worst. I want to start on some creative endeavor or another without considering all of the ways in which I could screw it up, or without the anxiety of failure before I've even started. I want to look at myself and see good more often than bad. I want to stop thinking about how people can only be mean to me.

I'm robbing myself of the ability to think clearly, or to concentrate at all. I'm taking away the joy of living.

BAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!

Well, at least it partially explains my dreaming. I can't remember the last dream I had, or when it was.

it's seaplane time

note: this ain't for pity, I just delivered on the promise to post something more personal

Maybe I Just Wanted to Use the Term "Self-Probing"

2004-11-17T09:26:00.000-08:00

Is it sick that I have the urge to post on my blog yet I have not the slightest clue as to what to say? Maybe not. I'm not really into posting my day, although I might work up the nerve for that someday. What I'd really like to do is use my space o' the web for some literate self-probing posts (like here and there), but I think that I'm either incapable of that right now or just not ready to make my real concerns and thoughts public. So for now I'll make a list of lists, although it will not be up to par with the lists that my girlfriend, the listmistress, is known 'round the world for.

Songs on my mind:
Weezer - "Surf Wax USA" (ahh, freedom)
The Pixies - "Where is My Mind" (ahh, work)
James - "Crazy" (the previously mentioned listmistress)
Commander Cody - "Another Cigarette" (carbonized lungs...seriously, sometime in the distant future they'll be mining for diamonds and parts of my lungs will be embedded in platinum or silver or gold as engagement rings)

Books I'm reading:
Virginia Woolf - "To the Lighthouse" (an excellently disorienting mind-fuck wrapped up in wonderful literature)
Rudolf Flesch - "The Art of Readable Writing" (copyright 1949) (great little book that eschews typical formulae and actually stresses the important things in writing, and it's also fun for the now-dated examples from the period) (god, I AM a big dork)
George Orwell "1984" (I put this book down in the year 1999 and never picked it up again, although watching current news events is giving me the basic storyline)

Shows to watch:
"Arrested Development" (funny...just funny)
"Six Feet Under" (you should be watching it now...RIGHT NOW!!)
"M*A*S*H" (because it'll always have a soft spot in my heart)

Websites:
Besides the two previously linked in this post, this is the only one that I'm obsessing over right now: Sorry Everybody

I Need to Know!

2004-11-12T13:31:00.000-08:00

I'm going to H-e-doublecigarettes for this, but that'll be alright.

Which Jesus are you? (Paperless voting machine below the pictures).

Euro Jesus?

Black Jesus?

Angry Jesus?

Robot Jesus?

Hockey Jesus?

Which Jesus are you?

Current results

(r)(j)

Saving Sensitive Ears (not eyes)

2004-11-11T16:58:00.000-08:00

In a perfect world, there would be no war. Disagreements between militant groups would be settled in an afternoon over a few drinks and end with a handshake and some claps on the back.

Germany: "Are you sure we can't invade you?"
France: "We are sorry, but we already have enough problems just being French."
Germany: "Well, alright. But can you perhaps give us a few bottles of wine? I mean, that's one of the reasons we're anxious to do this in the first place."
France: "But of course! We've brought a few mixed cases to say 'Just a taste, please!'"
Germany: "Then all may be well."

However, a long time ago a war started, and now we have Veteran's Day. Sorry, I slept
through history class.

Tonight, on November 11th, Veteran's Day, ABC plans a rerun from its Veteran's Days in 2001
and 2002. They will broadcast "Saving Private Ryan" unedited, leaving out neither gore nor
swearing. (And in case you haven't seen it, it's full of both.)

But there are ABC affiliates who will not air the broadcast fearful of reprisals from
the FCC. Can't have the "F-Bomb" on primetime, they say.

And...so?

It's Veteran's Day and this is what we're concerned about?

How about homeless veterans?

How about veterans without insurance?

How about something worse than swearing (is that all they're really worried about, not
the violence but the swearing?) happening in the military, like rape and sexual harassment?

Think we'll be covering all of this as we "honor our veterans" today? I think it's less than
likely.

There are many current veterans and many future veterans in this country and abroad. I think
there should be a little more compassion and consideration for these people, no matter
whether or not you agree or disagree in what capacity they served. I don't think that
they're all heroes, but I do think that they're deserving of some proper treatment.

There. I think that I have now nearly cemented this blog into a complaint forum with
few exceptions.

I am whiney-whinerson-McWhinersonopolis, and this has been my soapbox.

(w)(h)(a)(t)(e)(v)(e)(r)

Oh yeah...

2004-11-09T02:09:00.000-08:00

New picture posted in profile.

And Now For Something Completely Different: Not (entirely) Me

2004-11-09T01:28:00.000-08:00

All right, so, I want to just use this space for advertising.

First, I just found out about a good friend's blog, and it is http://shewhowalksonland.blogspot.com. It's all artsy-fartsy, like her, and that's just one of the reasons why I like both her and it.

My girlfriend, the goddess Nicotina, has a few new posts at http://littlelistless.blogspot.com and I have rarely read or heard of such a wonderful declaration of love or commitment, even though the reference to gambling is really, really strong. I only get joy out of making a mountain out of that molehill because my pride can't allow for the fact that she is able to describe the ways and means of love, and our love, better than I can. All I can do is love her and look forward to each day.

I want everyone to go out right now and rent the first season of "Arrested Development." Right now. Go. You know where the Hollywood or Blockbuster are.

And now I want to use this space for statements.

1. I know that my links aren't really links at all but rather copy-and-pastes and I don't care. I used to worry and fret about how to do that with my old websites, but right if I can get my words onto the screen I'm generally happy. At this rate of degredation I'll someday throw a rock at my computer just to get a reaction out of it (and probably be just as happy about the outcome then as I would be now).

2. My previously mentioned friend, artsy-fartsy, has been supporting me in my various endeavors for the last few years and I forgot to thank her for that in my previous post. I'll do so now: thank you.

3. I live in a giant bucket.

4. Seriously, you should see the size of this place.

5. I mean, I keep expecting to wake up each morning to find a farmer's hand lifting my place up and dropping me under the cold, waiting teats of some heiffer in Nebraska.

6. I'm insane.

This space intentionally left blank.
moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo
moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo moo

...or something.

(s)

Just skip everything except for the address and the end. I don't know what I was doing.

2004-11-05T02:27:00.000-08:00

Well, I've just been reading other people's blogs, and re-reading my girlfriend's (@ http://littlelistless.blogspot.com) and it has only reaffirmed my conclusion that I don't know how to write anymore. No, I obviously don't mean this in the litteral sense, although if you can't read this then you should keep going anyway. Wait. What? No, I mean this in the self-pity sense, which I'm very good at. So for now, I'll combine what I'm good at and that which I feel I'm not good at anymore and carry on.

You see, I used to have dreams of actually *being* a writer. My girlfriend, whom for now I'll torture for "NO RAISIN" in calling her misslotsalists, still insists on calling me a writer. My argument is that a writer *writes*. I don't. Not until the blog, that is, but it still doesn't count. Because I said so. No, because I want to write fiction, but it just doesn't seem to fly from my imagination or fingertips like I want it to. Since my imagination is closer to my ego than my fingertips, I'll blame the latter rather than the former for now.

Since, however, I'm not so much into the fiction thing, I'm trying to focus on my ability to be coherent and producing a compelling read. This is something that misslotsalists does with an almost uncanny ability, as do many other brilliant, unpaid writers/bloggers out there.

Aw, hell, I'm probably just indulging in self-loathing again. I never knew that indulgence could be unwanted, but here it is.

I have to say, though, that I did find some blogs extreeeeeemly annoying to even visit, not just navigate through. And the attempt at writing wasn't even the worst part. This I will promise: no music, no little window prompts with
">>>>>>>>>>>>>>Hello!<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<" and an "OK" button, no background art which contains links secretly, no cross-hairs mouse pointer, and usage of the English language (I like the Internet, but I'll never sum up my posts/purges with "in the know" acronyms sprinkled everywhere like so many bird droppings). That makes me feel a little better.

And thanks, misslotsalists, for supporting me. I love you.

(d)(t)

I-Rock-Landia

2004-11-04T10:46:00.002-08:00

In light of George Bush's first real victory in an election for the position of president of the United States, I'm trying to think of ways in which I can avoid his policies from touching on me directly. Here's what my girlfriend, friends and I have come up with so far:

-Flee to Canada. From what I hear, Canada is pretty nice: beautiful scenery, good health care, and plenty of beer. A lot of them also speak English, so it should be easy to get along with the natives. Apparently the cities are also very clean, but, given time, that's an abberation I can overlook. My only problem is snow. I like the cold well enough, but I've been to Michigan in January and hated every minute of the weather. Maybe living closer to a west-coast city like Vancouver would diminish the amount of snow, what with west-coast cities on this continent benefiting from the salty sea air blowing in. Maybe not, but I'm willing enough to look into it.

-Continue living as though the policies don't exist. That would mean ignoring terror alerts, the pollution in the air and in the water (and seeing a forest where there are no trees); pretending that prayer and the Ten Commandments are necessary in schools; saying to myself that we are *not* involved in a new Crusade and it's *not* about oil or money...
Ugh. No, I'm feeling sick already.

-Establish my own sovereignty. I've always wanted to have more power over my life, and I think that becoming my own country, leader, populace, and tourist attraction holds many benefits: I'd be a strong but fair ruler over me; I'd not let myself get into scuffles which didn't directly threaten my own personal liberties or freedoms (especially since I'm such a coward); I'd spare no cigarette, no alchohol, indeed no fatty or salty food from myself because, after all, it's my health care plan anyway; no taxes; and a daily election because, after all, I might get tired of ruling myself (or would my self get tired of my rule?) and wish to hand the power over to someone else for a while. I'm currently eyeing my girlfriend for that position.

-Get really, really, *really* drunk. I'm not sure how that will protect me, except that when I'm really drunk I feel invulnerable. Then I fall into a deep sleep and wake up and wonder why I did that again (must be how some of the country feels post-election).

As far as avoidance goes, that's pretty much it. The other side of the coin of "doing
something" about it all involves activity to educate people as to why Bush's second
presidency, wherein he'll establish a *real* legacy for himself, must be countered from every angle. Writing to representatives and newspapers and screaming on the Internet really does work. But to convince people I think that I should do it myself first.

From Canada. While drukn.

(b)

Legend

2004-11-04T10:44:00.000-08:00

The following key is mostly for my own amusement. I'll use one of the following letters - or a combination when applicable - to denote my non-emotional state of mind while writing each post.

(t) = tired
(s) = sober
(b) = buzzed
(d) = drunk

The Day After

2004-11-03T19:05:00.000-08:00

It was a race, it was a fight, it was a challenge, it was a pissing contest. It was an election. Presidential or otherwise, they're all pretty entertaining, even when I sit back and watch my own reactions to them. But this one was one of the most important I've participated in because I wanted George W. Bush out of the Oval Office (and Dick Cheney out of my nightmares). I felt so strongly about this that I would vote for just about anyone who was running against them. Candidate X with the most money turned out to be John Kerry, and in opposing Bush I supported and defended Kerry, and that wasn't such a hard thing to do.

And that was the last eight months or so in a nutshell, so when election night came around I felt a little disoriented. How could eight months of speculation and frustration and late-night, cigarette-filled political discussions with my girlfriend and friends come down to one night? One night that would decide the next four years if not the next twenty of my life and the lives of everyone I know? Nothing in my life has ever worked that way, and if it has, I've been blissfully ignorant. The democratic process continues to astound me.

There we were, watching CNN and Fox News and MSNBC (and occasionally The Daily Show) with the sound mostly down, eating Chinese food and drinking vodka cut with whatever was available, cheering and booing each state as they voted for or against Bush, taking cigarette breaks outside when the electoral votes of each candidate were either unchanging or unpalatable. And then Ohio.

Maybe Iowa as well, but probably Ohio.

Ohio? Seriously?

After doing the math, I told my girlfriend that it looked as though Bush would win Ohio and, therefore, the election. I never mean to make her sad, but she kept looking at me as though I'd punched her in the gut. I don't think that I could ever do something like that, but maybe I could've gotten one myself to distract me from the news.

Wolf Blitzer & Co. tried to keep their ratings up by saying that the number of absentee ballots yet to be counted could be more numerous than anticipated, possibly tipping the election in Kerry's favor. We decided that that was the time to turn the TV off and go to bed. We slept in the livingroom, and I woke up today hoping that I had already made love for the last time under the Bush administration.

Heh, well...I haven't made love for the last time for four years (that will simply not happen), and I'm just well-grounded enough in reality to see that Bush is still the president, so there goes that thought.

My girlfriend and I are too saddened to stay apart the whole day as we should (she has a paper to write), so we're going to drink some wine tonight and watch some Arrested Development and smoke our brains out. Maybe it'll help me to think of something to do about the next four years. Maybe it'll help me to find the funny in the next four years.

(s)