The Never Ending Story

Without their very own “Luck Dragon”, the Democrats are fucked.

Last night the NC and IN primaries came to a close and with it, the chances that Hillary Clinton could be elected President went to zero. Well… maybe. You see I, like so many others, still think that she is so focused on this, and has committed so much of her self-esteem into the race that she can’t see that it’s over and may therefore fail to release her pesky little tallons on this thing and come up with some extraordinary methods of snatching it away from Barack Obama. I envision some sort of closed, smoke-filled room where they hatch a plan to re-introduce FL and MI into the mix and hold instant runoff, winner take-all primaries in those states, giving Hillary the closing lead in the required delegates. This will of course, fulfill the mission of the Democratic Party, which is to torpedo itself into a loss in November. They can do it… I have faith.

I am not a big fan of Obama. I mean, yeah he’d be a fine President. We could do worse, but there just seems to be something about him that smells like form over function... style over substance. But I decided to do my own digging. If you look at energy policy I think it is demonstrative of my concern. According to the Washington Post:

Clinton voted to oppose the federal boost for grain-based ethanol (read corn growers in IA) while Obama supported it. For my money that’s one good point for her. As we’ve seen, corn-based ethanol is not the answer to the energy crisis. It is however one of the causes of the global food shortage. The vote in question was an effort to block a proposed amendment to the 2005 energy bill that would have established an ethanol mandate for refineries. Obama voted for the ethanol mandate. Hmmm. Go figure, a Senator from a corn growing state in favor of this one. Also, Clinton supported a bill to expand oil and gas production in the Gulf of Mexico, while Obama voted against it. Until my car runs on hydrogen, I think we need to do what we can to exploit home-grown oil resources. The bottom line is that he may be trying to do the right thing, but's leading to an energy crisis and starvation.

You see, it’s those unintended consequences of well meaning politicians that always fuck us over. Like that tool in Duluth MN and his damn cel. phone legislation. He wants to save lives, but all he’d really end up doing is driving people on the edge of the lower middle class into poverty. He means no harm. In fact he means well. You see that’s the problem with idealists, they tend to try to fix things... to make change happen. Frankly, the less they do, really the better off we all are and I think the American public believes that. Any guesses on which of the three candidates will actually try to do the least? I just get the sense that this is a contest between optimism and pragmatism. I think we all know where I fit on that spectrum.

All of this is, of course, irrelevant because barring the previous scenario involving FL and MI there’s no way she can win. Unless of course, Obama is found to be a “Secret Muslim”, something that Jeremiah Wright has firmly eliminated as a possibility.

So there you have it, Obama is going to be the nominee. I can deal with that. Fine. But there’s something troubling me. As I have stated before, Democrats can’t win in 2008. The reason is two-fold.

First, in case you haven’t noticed the racial lines are being drawn more distinctly as the campaigns move forward. Clinton was getting 20% of the black vote at one time, now it’s down to 6%. Obama is getting virtually all the black vote now (over 90%) and though maintaining a certain percentage of upscale white voters, it’s still around 40% in many cases. As this thing moves to the general election, the divide will become more polarized not less. The Republicans will make this about race. They have to, and 30% of the white vote is not enough to win the Presidency. It’s pathetic and sad, but as I’ve said previously, we’re just not ready for that. I hope I eat my words come November, but something tells me McCain will win this thing. Worse than that, the country will be much more racially divided than we were at the start of this thing. If the demographics in the voting continue to trend the way they have (increasingly divisive), I think it’s safe to say, we’re screwed.

The other reason Democrats stand to lose is the way they elect their nominee. You see, Clinton has this right. If the States were winner-take-all like the Republican system (for the most part), then she’d be the nominee. Maybe the Democrats should nominate their candidates using the same sort of method that, you know, the Country does when they elect a President. I mean, we have this little thing called the Electoral College (delegates) and this winner-take-all system per state. Maybe, just maybe, Democrats should apply that system to their selection process. Howard Dean, are you listening?

World's Greatest Dad

I have an announcement to make. I’ve decided that I have children. Not that I am going to have children, but that I already have. Molly, age six and little Spence, age four, sure are a handful. But it’s rewarding. I mean just the other day they were playing in the living room and Molly said the cutest thing: “Daddy, why do birds and bees have sex?” Adorable. Needless to say, it was also a bit awkward. Ha ha ha. They’re just so honest about everything it reminds me of what’s important in life. I have a big picture of the two of them as my desk-top image, my background photo on my phone and a little one of the three of us as my instant messenger icon. That way they are with me every day, wherever I am. And more importantly, everyone else can see them too and realize how much I love them and how they are the priority in my life. It’s tough being a single father.

So you’ll have to forgive me if I talk about them all the time to exclusion of anything in which you may be interested. I’m going to need some extra time off this summer because I’m taking Molly and her friend to summer camp. I will miss her for a week, but we’ll be on the road for 3 days each way. Imagine the memories we’ll forge together. Because you know what’s most special about being a father? The memories. Not the bad ones mind you, just the good ones. There must be like a dozen of them by now. I can’t recall off the top of my head, but I know they are there. Like the time, Spencer fell down the steps and we had to go the ER on a Monday morning. I was so concerned about him I totally forgot to call in to work to let them know I wouldn’t make that client meeting. But hey, it’s my kid! They HAVE to understand.

Okay, I can’t keep that up without vomiting in my mouth. I get it. Really I do. We love our kids. But I get the sense that the real benefit here is all the memories. The first words, the first steps blah blah blah. “They say the darndest things!” Well, that’s because they have no sense of responsibility or accountability for what they say. You know what, I can do that too. In fact, I often do. As far as the memories go… hell, I can make those up and have them be just as real. So there we are. I’m a great dad! In fact, according to my coffee mug, I’m "The World's Greatest Dad!"

The point is, from now on, I have kids too. Deal with it.

You must now feel sorry for me raising two children on my own. Cut me some slack when I get short tempered. Understand that I can’t do you that favor or loan you that tool because I need it to take care the home I am keeping for my children. Yes, you have to listen to all my stories about them (really about me). So give me an extra tax credit or two and understand that I have to leave work early today, my daycare provider is leaving early and I have to pick up the kids. I can’t wait to see what the little rascals do tomorrow. I’ll be sure to tell you all about it.

People are people so why should it be?

Well it finally happened. I have given up on humanity. I’m always teetering on the edge of converting all my assets and credit into cash, changing my name to Miguel and going off the grid. But this weekend pushed me more than one step closer to a life of south-of-the-border siestas. At roughly 11:00pm Saturday night my girlfriend and I were at Blockbuster video in St. Paul. We went through all the new releases, took our time and found our selections for the evening. Aside from the annoying people in line ahead of us who didn’t have their membership information, it was a generally typical and not entirely unpleasant experience. I even purchased a bottle of orange soda for the drive home which turned out to be a more important purchase than I could have imagined.

Having my plans for the evening set and even my very own Orange Fanta, I approached the driver’s side of my girlfriend’s car with a sense of contentment. With my movies and my soda in my right hand, I reached down to lift the door handle of the little white KIA Rio with my left. “What the hell is that?” I ask myself as I quickly pull my fingers away from the now open door, feeling some sort of slimy texture. I looked down at my hand, not believing what I am seeing at first--I am in denial. “No, it can’t be…” But it is. There is simply no denying the familiar color and odor. There I stand, in muted horror, looking at my left hand covered in dog shit.

Yes, you heard that right my friend. Someone crammed dog shit under the handle of the driver’s side door of the car while we were in the movie store. Not just any dog shit mind you, but the light-brown, still warm, semi-liquid variety… just viscous enough to adhere, out of sight, underneath the door handle.

Calmly I walked to the front of the car, resigned to my fate, and using my Fanta, washed my hand off wiping it on the pavement, the grass, the dirt anything I could find. For some reason I did not panic, I did not issue forth a stream of obscenities, I simply walked back to the car, got in and looked at my girlfriend. She had this expression on her face that simply said, “What were you doing out there?” I answered in the only way I could. The only way anyone who had experienced such thing could: “Someone stuffed dog shit into the door handle.” What else can you say?

Really, what more need be said?

The Big Suck

So if you have anything important to say to anyone in your life, I suggest you do it within the next 45 days. You see, the Universe is about to unfold at a point and collapse in on itself. Not as the result of God’s final judgment on mankind, but rather as the result of curiosity. The Large Hadron Collider project is underway. The goal essentially is to bring about the Grand Unifying Theory of the Universe by bringing together such elusive concepts as gravity and energy. In other words, there are a bunch of scientists in an underground bunker in France trying to create black holes and inject matter into the Universe while simultaneously attempting to disrupt the gravitational constants that bind our little planet together so they can… “See what happens.”

This is the kind of shit that keeps me up at night.

I’m less afraid of nuclear war than I am of some Swedish scientist somehow ripping a gaping-wide whole in the space-time continuum or collapsing matter into itself in order to see what happens. I’m less afraid of killer bees… but only slightly because they still scare the hell out of me. I don’t think we’ll have time to see the effects of global climate change destroy our civilization. No… I am afraid of nerds. I went through this same anxiety about 5 years ago when some punk European scientist claimed that he was able to transport a particle of light or some such nonsense and have it exist simultaneously in two places. Wait a minute… is he actually adding matter to the Universe? WTF? Hold on a minute there… are you sure you’ve thought this one through? I mean, won’t that sort of break physics? It turns out he was wrong. How do I know this you ask? Well it’s simple really, we still exist.

I know, I know… “They said the same thing about breaking the sound barrier or the Manhattan Project”. Comparing the Manhattan Project to this little experiment in Universal Russian Roulette is like… well I am not sure what it’s like. I’m not sure what to compare this to other than it’s like comparing an atomic bomb to a black hole that’s filled with a bunch of atomic bombs.

That said, I can’t wait to see what happens.

The Dating Game

There’s a well documented phenomenon that I feel compelled to address… fat guys and the hot chicks who love them. Ever since Jackie Gleason made professional failure and spousal abuse hilarious on the Honeymooners, this has been a staple of the American sit-com, especially of the cartoon variety: The Flintstones, The Simpson’s, Family Guy, King of Queens just to name a few. As a short, aging fat guy I applaud this effort by the American media to brainwash the women of this country into buying into that double standard. Sadly however, I don’t think their efforts have been successful.

I was watching this show, Millionaire Matchmaker, where this oddly unattractive woman and her minions hook up millionaires with hotties who want to date them. Sort of the inverse of the fat guy hot wife sit-com phenom. It goes without saying that the stated policies Millionaire Matchmaker are that they do not accept girls who are gold diggers and the men are not allowed to have sex until the contract is over. Of course, this is all a lie. If this wasn’t about rich guys finding a chick they can pay to have sex with the show would just be called “Matchmaker”. So this is televised prostitution. I’m fine with that. But one thing I noticed sort of stuck out at me. There was this nice guy, obviously rich and successful, who didn’t seem like a dick and genuinely was looking for a relationship. Sounds like dream come true to these would-be heiresses. But very few were interested in him. Why you ask? Well because, in spite of being fairly good-looking, he was only 5’9”. What a loser! It’s not like these women were tall, they were like 5’6” to 5’9”.

This is, of course, shallow and lame. What’s that you say? “It’s a TV show Scott, what do you expect? That’s just those people they pre-screen for this to make it seem that people are pettier than they really are.”

Perhaps.

So today over lunch I perused the personals in a couple of local papers to get a sense for what people were looking for in a mate. I’ll admit, I’m not into the dating scene. I’m not on the market and haven’t been for quite some time. As such I was surprised by how little information was available. So I turned to the online standby: Match.com. As I perused the profiles of men and women looking for that special someone I noticed a common thread among all the profiles. They are all a pack of lies. Every God damned last one of them.

So in an effort to help out any single readers looking to meet that special someone here’s my handy translation to some of the most common lies I found:

What he says: “I’m looking for a woman who isn’t needy.”
What he means: “I’ll pay for dinner if you put out, but don’t expect me to talk about our ‘relationship’.”

What she says: “I want a man who is caring and patient who isn’t obsessed with sex.”
What she means: “I don’t give blow jobs.”

What he says: “I want a woman who can have a good time and I enjoy being with and just hanging out.”
What he means: “Do whatever I want to do when I want to do it and we’ll be fine… oh, and I’m broke.”

What she says: “I’m not into games.”
What she means: “I’m into games.”

What he says: “I’m a nice guy.”
What he means: “I’ve got a beer belly and I’m desperate to get laid.”

What she says: “I’m looking for a nice guy.”
What she means: “I’ve been cheated on, messed with and dumped repeatedly. I have a chip on my shoulder about it, but am still looking for a guy to do that to me again.”

What he says: “I don’t like the bar the scene.”
What he means: “I get drunk a lot and hit on chicks in bars without success.”

What she says: “I need a partner in crime.”
What she means: “I’m a tease.”

Oh and don’t forget about the “angles”. Be wary of the photos that clearly hid one’s true appearance. Shot at obscure angles with over lighting to conceal the fact that he/she weighs 250lbs or has a hunch-back.

Good luck out there.

Did You Hear the One About...

I have recently been reminded of my penchant for what I call “hyper-anti-climactic jokes”. Before I go into them, be advised, there are only five people on planet Earth who find this even remotely funny. Three of them read this blog and the other two are most likely in China or India. That said, here they are (continue reading at your own risk):

A horse walks into a bar. The bartender asks, “Why the long face?” The horse says, “I’ve had a really bad day.”

So a priest, a rabbi and a politician are on an airplane that’s about to crash. There are only two parachutes. One of them is going to die.

Two cannibals are eating a clown. The first cannibal asks, “Does this taste funny to you?” The second cannibal replies, “Nope, tastes fine to me.”

Hitler dies and meets Saint Peter at the gates of Heaven. He asks Peter, “So, can I get into Heaven?” Peter replies, “No.”

A man walks into a bar. He is an alcoholic who is destroying his family.

“Knock Knock” - “Who’s there?” - “Someone at the door.”

How many goldfish does it take to screw in a light bulb? Goldfish can’t screw in light bulbs.

So a blonde, a brunette and a red-head all jump off of a cliff at the same time. Who will hit the ground first? Answer: Hair color doesn’t impact the speed with which an object falls.

So this family goes to see a talent agent. The agent says, "Okay, tell me about your act." “Well... the grandmother fucks a goat. The mom and dad do it doggy-style in a church pew. There's finger fucking, dildo-licking, group sex, beastiality, and for the finale grampa fucks a dead guy up the ass.” The shocked talent agent says: "What do you call yourselves?” "The Smiths."

I was going to acknowledge those who contributed some of these jokes. Then I thought better of it, assuming they would prefer to remain anonymous.

Oh The Weather Outside is Frightful... So Fuck Off!

It’s no surprise to anyone who knows me that I am a victim of “SAD”--Seasonal Affectiveness Disorder. I had to look that up because I really think it should be pronounced the same but the acronym should read “SED”. I guess it just doesn’t roll off the tongue as nicely. I know Spring is in the air. I have previously written about the hope and optimism the season brings as if I was Barack Obama himself. This morning as I peered out my window to see the heavy snow falling I remembered why I hate hope and optimism. I’m just so sick of being dissapointed. I’m not sure to whom I should attribute this quote… perhaps it’s me: “Optimists are always dissapointed, while pessimists are pleasantly surprised.” There are a whole class of people who claim: “I love the Winter! I love to go out and cross-country ski and go ice fishing and snowmobiling and walking along the frozen shore of an ice-covered lake.”

Those people piss me off.

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy being outdoors; camping, boating, hiking as much as anyone. But in the winter? I sense some sort of contrived attempt to hide the appearance of SAD amongst these people. I mean, no one really enjoys freezing their ass off and excercising at the same time do they? “Hey look at me! I’m fit and in-shape and enjoy outdoor winter activities. Aren’t I an optimistic go-getter getting the most of life?” No, you’re an annoying, self-delusional liar and we all know it.

Bite me.

Back to my point. I have SAD. I get depressed and consumed by a sense of ennui and morose internal reflection: “What have I done with my life?” “What have I accomplished?” “Where did my hopes and dreams of a life filled with love and adventure go?”. You know… the usual shit one goes through when they haven’t seen the sun or felt the warm evening breeze in forty days and forty nights. I’m not alone. It’s to be expected when you live in a place like Minnesota (or God help you, North Dakota). But there is a point in the season where my Seasonal Affectiveness Disorder starts to become Meteorological Affectiveness Disorder and instead of walking around all sullen and despondent, I’m just… pissed off. “Fuck you winter! Get the hell off my front lawn!”

It’s these last days of winter when it is, in fact, actually spring that really get me MAD. I’m not feeling introspective, I’m feeling MAD. I am just about done with this. The only small amount of joy I take in a late season heavy snow fall (eight inches forecasted for today) is that those annoying snow-shoeing winter activity people are exhausted by now. The fraudulent front of optimism has been worn down. They can no longer maintain the lie and they fall victim to SAD themselves. The usually up-beat, stupid, happy grin on their faces is replaced with a malaise and a grimace that I recognize immediately. In the true spirit of schadenfreude, I find a sense of calming satisfaction in their suffering. “Don’t like all this snow huh? Wish it was warm? Sick of shoveling and scraping windows and cold, wet socks?”

Welcome to winter.

Small = Cute

I am sure somewhere there is a detailed explanation of this--either from some scholarly journal of psychology or, more likely, from a particularly astute comedian. Same thing.

The stereotype here is that this is a “girl thing”. As usual, the stereotype is correct. We have all noticed that women embrace the word cute much more than men. Ladies, men don’t like being called “cute” to our faces. Like the words ‘menstruation’ or ‘commitment’; cute is word better left spoken only to your girlfriends. In other words, calling a man cute is exactly the same as saying he has a small penis.

For some reason absolutely anything small is cute. As many of you know, I recently purchased a Cooper Mini. “It’s so cute!” Like a kitten, or a Keebler Elf. If the value of money were set by women, the dime would be the most valuable denomination.

As a man, I have struggled with the reason for this all my life. Why the hell is ANYTHING small immediately and unquestionably “cute”? The answer is so simple. It’s part of the genetic, instinctive desire to possess, create and care for something small. A baby.

Babies aren’t cute because they are small. Small things are cute because they are like babies.

I guess this is typically why men like things to be large. We hate babies.

I See Drunk People

So yesterday was St. Patrick’s Day--or as I prefer to call it: “rookie night”. Don’t get me wrong. I love the Irish culture. There’s something beautiful about an entire people dedicated to drinking themselves silly and getting into a fist fight with their own family members. I’ve spent my fair share of time in Irish pubs; it’s my preference for 364 days of the year. But on rookie night, I’d rather French-kiss the urine encrusted Blarney Stone than spend my time watching 25 year old girls vomiting green beer into their own shoe.

As Americans we have, for some reason, really embraced the Irish culture. But I just don’t see how. I mean, I like strong beer and the sound of bagpipes in the morning… but I get the impression that most of America doesn’t. So what gives? I mean, what has this wonderful culture given us that the typical, American St. Patrick’s Day reveler appreciates? I mean, I don’t see Guinness out-selling Miller Light any time soon, and I certainly don’t expect men to take to the streets en masse wearing kilts. I don’t expect to see hip-hop replaced by Celtic classics. So really, this is just an excuse to behave like a stupid, pathetic drunk--which is too bad since these rookies don’t have the necessary drinking skills to pull it off with anything approximating a true Irishmen’s skill.

Going to an Irish pub on St. Patrick’s Day is as fun as a barrel full of monkeys. You must realize however, that a bunch of angry, drunk monkeys crammed into a barrel will start flinging their own feces at you and clawing each other’s eyes out.

Peek-a-boo

Every now and then I need to take a moment to acknowledge a good idea when I see one. I have seen one: http://www.barseenlive.com/. It hasn’t really taken off yet, but the idea is outstanding. You put web cams in bars around town, charge a small fee to the bar and allow people at home take a gander at the goings on of your establishment. "Should I go there? Is it too busy? Not busy enough? Will I get a table? Is Frank working tonight?" Awesome.

The site was featured in the Pioneer Press today. Though the article is a little heavy on the cheeky side of the technology, the possibilities are there to make this a success should the local bar scene take to it without fear.

This is the next generation of .com start up. We’ll see how it plays out. If they can build a proper business model and generate some ad revenue they should do well. If not, well it’s another good idea gone the way of the dodo.

Melting Madness

As I stepped outside for a mid-afternoon constitutional I noticed a certain spring in my step--a spring that is in step with spring itself. The first real melting of the snow—the first real sign of spring. My senses were awakened with a sound I have not heard in many months, the sounds of a babbling brook… or in this case, the sound of dirty, melting snow and ice plummeting down the storm drain.

I walked to the drain and saw the melting pile of dirty, black, garbage-strewn snow at the side of the road gently—reluctantly-giving itself up and returning to its liquid state. As if the city is slowly cleansing itself; washing off four months of funk and stalled decay. There was something symbolic in it as I watched the melting water pour down the drain carrying cigarette butts, empty plastic bags and myriad tidbits of the accumulated dirt and grime of the city into its bowels.

It seemed to me like all the frustrations, irritations, inconveniences and troubles of winter were hidden within that snow bank on the side of the road. The accumulated ill-will of our metropolitan collective was being swept away in a small torrent of cleansing, dirty-brown water.

Though I have no doubt the snow will come again before this spring has sprung, this small respite provides some sense of hope--a sense of better things and better days to come.

It’s supposed to rain tomorrow. I can’t wait.

Boom!

As promised, it’s high time we address the issue of old people, and how much they irritate me. First we must define the term “old people”. For the purposes of this discussion, “old people” are defined as anyone older than me. That definition will hold true until such time as I am dead. But let’s start with the Baby Boomers. God I hate the Baby Boomers. They exhibit, in large part, what I hate about old people in general—this ignorant sense of self-entitlement and smug superiority. That’s really what it comes down to. They’re not the “Greatest Generation”. They are that generation's annoying kids. They are the generation that hoarded all the goodies from the piñata of post-WWII America, piled them up in a big field and set them on fire.

Thanks.

These people have no concept of what life is like for anyone younger than them. They have given their progeny the gift of a lower quality of life. For the first time in America (as far I can tell) their children are not going to have it better than they did. The selfish bastards. We are going backward and they don’t see it. They sit back and scratch their Rogaine-covered heads in bewteen sipping a Stabuck's latte and getting their Viagra prescription refilled wondering aloud: “Why can’t my kids seem to buy a house or afford college? When I was their age, I owned my own home had a college degree and already had children.” Maybe it’s because a new house doesn’t cost $30,000 any more and that the cost of a college education is roughly equivalent to the gross domestic product of Albania.

Do they realize that no one under 40 even thinks about Social Security? It’s not even considered. It’s just another tax. Like a user-fee at the library (remember libraries?). We just assume that all that money we are paying is going to go help somebody else or go toward some great public service. It’s not that we don’t think we’ll ever see any of that money again; it’s that we know we won’t. As such, it doesn’t even occur to us to think about it. Of course, if we did think about it we’d realize where all that money is going… to the Baby Boomers. The same self-important egomaniacal, irresponsible pricks that gave us this standard of living we are enjoying today.

Every time I hear one of these “old people” talk about the “good old days” and how younger people simply can’t handle responsibility, it makes me want smash a Neil Diamond album over their heads, tie an ascot around their necks and drag them bodily behind their Volvo through the streets of Maple Grove.

So thank you Baby Boomers. Thanks for the culture of distrust and for sucking every ounce of marrow from our economic future. Because you fucked everyone you met, we can’t fuck anyone. Thanks for that as well. I can’t wait to sit my grandkids on my lap and tell them stories about what life was like before we had to live in the dome.

As for the “Greatest Generation”… you raised these people. Thanks a lot assholes.

Bad Boys

I have been watching this show “Jail” on the TruTV network whose slogan is “Not reality… actuality!” Can I just give that a great big WTF? Something horrible has happened. We’ve completely twisted the word “reality” to mean its opposite via the moniker “Reality Television”. Here we go with the destruction of language rant once more. This ties into my analysis of the show “Jail” nicely. If you haven’t seen this show, essentially they put a TV camera crew in a county jail and film the prisoners interact with the corrections officers from when they enter until they (eventually) get placed in their cell.

Disclaimer: I understand that these corrections officers are doing a difficult and often dangerous job, dealing with some of the most beligerant and annoying people in the world. They receive training to deal with situations that most of us have never considered and this training dictates, to a large degree, their actions.

That said, these people are violent pychopathic assholes.

You simply have to watch this program with a critical eye. There is no reason to treat a fellow human being in this manner. They routinely beat the living shit out of these people for doing nothing more than flinching or stumbling. Most of these people are drunk of course and are reacting to how they are being treated. It is the assumption of hostility that leads to this cycle of violence. In other words, it is assumed that everyone there being incarcerated is a deesprate, violent and hostile criminal that needs to be physically thrown to the ground and have their arms and wrists twisted 180 degrees backwards in order to get them to comply with any given order. As it turns out this is usually what it takes. But the reason is that neither party has the ability to effectively communicate with the other.

They are not using language that conveys what they want in a way the other party can understand. When this happens, the guards get mad, start yelling at the prisoners and treating them in a sub-human fashion. Naturally, these already agitated prisoners react with hostility (even just an angry gesture or way of talking is enough) which immedialy leads to three or more guards jumping the guy and practically breaking his arms while tazering him, during which time they are screaming ”Comply--stop resisting!”… meanwhile the prisoners who are now in an immense amount of pain are crying out: “I’m not resisting, you’re breaking my arm!” A calm, intelligent person would be able to deal with 90% of these scenarios without it leading to physical violence against a fellow human being. But who has that kind of patience?

The thing is, it’s easy to dismiss these people as losers, drunks, addicts and criminals and therefore not give a shit about what happens to them. It’s easy to laugh at their pain. But if a society is really to be measured by how it treats its prisoners, then we are in trouble.

Here’s what concerns me. I can only assume that these corrections facilities are allowing cameras to show what they think is perfectly acceptable violence against prisoners. In other words, we are seeing the nice stuff they consider to be reasonable and well within the legal and ethical boundaries of such an environment. What happens when the cameras are off?

This assumption of hostility that invariably creates the hostility in the first place is endemic to government institutions everywhere. From the police to the impound lot to the DMV. This is why people hate government; it’s unnecesarily controlling, mean-spiritied and one-sided. This is why people don’t care, don’t vote and give up being productive members of society. Which is, of course, how they end up featured on the show “Jail”.

Help! I Need This Man to Protect Me! !! !!!! !

So in the spirit of civic involvement, I wrote to my State Representative about this mobile phone usage while driving bill. For some reason this little piece of legislation has gotten me all worked up. I don’t know why, maybe I have just had enough with the unnecessary laws (and unnecessary exclamation points) and random fines and fees and expenses that are foisted upon us for no damn good reason. The bill’s author--Representative Mike Jaros (DFL-Duluth) was quick to reply, so quick in fact that it is clear he didn’t read my letter. If anyone in Duluth is reading this, please… do something about this guy.

In the interest of open and transparent government/citizen interaction, I thought I’d share with you the detailed, measured and intelligent response I received. From the man who brought us the child safety harness for shopping cart legislation, I present the honorable Representative Mike Jaros (DFL):

>>> >>> >>> FROM: "Scott" 2/22/2008 4:58 PM >>>

Representative Paymar,

I am writing to urge you to vote against the pending legislation authored by Representative Mike Jaros that would ban handheld mobile phone usage while driving. The legislation is ill-conceived and unnecessary. As I understand it, it is already illegal to drive recklessly regardless of the cause. Representative Jaros argues that phone usage causes as many auto accidents as drunk driving. I think he may be right, but that sounds more like an argument for changing our draconian DUI laws that it does a justification for criminalizing yet another basic activity. This legislation will have the effect of forcing already struggling families to purchase equipment for their cars or phones they do not need, or pay hefty fines. It is not the guy the driving the new Lexus that this law will hurt, rather poorer people who can least afford this. His statement that going hands-free, with a dashboard device or headset, shouldn't be a difficult transition for drivers--"They're not expensive, much cheaper than the cell phone. You only pay it once, not every month."-- is laughable to someone driving around in 1988 Buick. I just don't think he has thought through the unforeseen consequences of this seemingly harmless legislation.

That aside, what about the other devices or distractions equally or more disruptive? Have you ever tried to use an iPod while driving? It's infinitely more distracting than a cell phone. Do we need a law that makes it illegal to remove a pull-over sweater while driving? He seems to think that if you don't have both hands on the wheel at all times you're a menace to the public. Obviously he drives an automatic and thinks everyone else does as well. The slippery slope is self-evident here. It may not be his intention to create a precedent that leads to more unnecessary laws, but as I am sure you can attest, someone else will use this law as an excuse to ban something else that will serve only to line the pockets of the state coffers or some specific lobbying interest with the hard earned money of those who can least afford it.

If he insists on pursuing this ridiculous legislation, I would encourage you to speak to the merits of the bill and suggest that if phone usage is as an egregious danger to our society as drunk driving it should carry the same punishments. I propose mandatory prison sentences for repeat offenders. I mean after all, doesn't our safety outweigh everything else? Creating this culture of fear and sacrificing personal freedom and liberties in pursuit of our "security" or "safety" is right out of George W. Bush's playbook. I would expect a DFL legislator of Representative Jaros' tenure to understand the inherent flaw with this reasoning and I sincerely hope you do as well.

Thank you.

Regards,

Scott

cc: Representative Mike Jaros


>>> >>> >>>>>> >>> >>>
-----Message-----
From: Mike Jaros [mailto:rep.mike.jaros@house.mn]
Sent: Monday, February 25, 2008 12:23 PM
To: Scott
Subject: Re: Mobile Phone Legislation

Hi Scott,
My bill would not ban cellphone use while driving. You only have to have "hands free" device to talk!!! MJ


>>> >>> >>>>>> >>>
>>> FROM: "Scott" 2/25/2008 1:18 PM >>>

Representative Jaros,

Thank you for taking the time to reply. I understand the scope of your bill. I think I made that clear in the text of my correspondence. I hope that you took the time to read the entire letter before responding.

Although I can appreciate your desire to rid the world of distracted drivers, this is not the way to do it. Might I suggest doing some research on the real causes of the problem? Using a hands-free device does not markedly reduce the level of impairment. It does however, provide a mechanism for the State to levy additional fines and force consumers to spend money on hands-free devices.

In other words, your bill would not serve to increase public safety; it would merely serve to increase the financial burden on already strapped citizens. I urge you to re-consider.

If, after performing the necessary research on the subject, you still feel this bill has merit above the costs to your constituents, I guess we'll just have to agree to disagree. But if you should find that perhaps there are some unforeseen consequences of such an unnecessary bill, I would urge you to withdraw it from consideration.

Thank you.

Scott

>>> >>> >>>>>> >>> >>>
-----Message-----From: Mike Jaros [mailto:rep.mike.jaros@house.mn] Sent: Monday, February 25, 2008 1:26 PMTo: ScottSubject: RE: Mobile Phone Legislation

Thanks for your letter. I did not think that seat belts would be affective and that people would not use them.
They have been very affective and have prevented injuries and deaths. I believe my bill would do the same. I read recently that there are just as many people killed with cell phone abuse as drunk driving!!Best wishes, MJ

>>> >>> >>>>>> >>> >>>
-----Message-----
From: Scott
Sent: Monday, February 25, 2008 4:07 PM
To: 'Mike Jaros'Subject: RE: Mobile Phone Legislation

Representative Jaros,

First, let me thank you for your prompt replies. It is refreshing to see a legislator who responds so directly and promptly--particularly with someone outside your district.

That being said, I think you will agree that the jury is still out on the root cause of the distraction, as the research shows most studies seem to conclude that it is the act of the conversation that is distracting not the holding of the device. This is my point. Having a hands-free device does not mitigate the distraction of the conversation. Further, there are much more insidious distractions out there to focus on. Finally, it is clear that you don’t have a lot of experience with mobile technology. There is no "hands-free" set for many phones out there. Some use headphones (like the iPhone) which are already illegal to wear while driving. Many do not support blue tooth devices. Integration of my phone into my car would cost me over $1,500... and that's only because I have a new car. If I had an old beater, I would have no recourse but to not use my phone at all. In other words, if you're rich go ahead and dangerously chat away. If you're poor, it's going to cost you.

So if you're poor and cannot afford a new car or a phone that supports some particular technological solution you can’t use your phone. Which we both know won’t happen. What will happen is that the people who get pulled over for infractions most frequently (minorities and the poor who drive older model cars) are going to have to pay the hefty fine.

I understand that you had proposed a bill banning their use all-together last session. Although I would be hard-pressed to support that, it would at least be consistent with what you are trying to do. I fear that what you wanted to do was to protect people and reduce accidents. Once it became clear that your bill would not pass as originally written, you compromised the usefulness out of your bill.

Now it is just an inconvenient and costly irritant to the poorest among us. Like I said, the guy in the new Lexus already has a "hands free" set built into his car. It's the poor guy in the old beater who can barely pay his rent that is going to get hit with this.

I thank you again for your reply. I do not want to take up any more of valuable time. If you choose to reply or offer your thoughts they are welcome. Otherwise, I appreciate the time you have taken to listen to my concerns.

Respectfully,

Scott

-----Original Message-----
From: Mike Jaros [mailto:rep.mike.jaros@house.mn]
Sent: Tuesday, February 26, 2008 9:58 AM
To: Scott
Subject: RE: Mobile Phone Legislation

Hi Scott; thanks for the information again. I realize that talking on the phone is a problem, but we have to get something on the books to make people think before they do such distraction while driving. Hopefully we can ban talking entirely some day, but it si tough to pass even this bill. Text messaging is the worst!!! Best.. Mike
-------------------------

Well MJ, I am just about done with this dialogue!!! It's clear that you're not interested in the details or the facts!! I hope you are clean on this. I hope your 401K doesn't own Verizon stock or that you're not an investor in some company that makes hands free devices!!! But mostly, I hope that voters of Duluth will wise up and find someone who actually thinks through the repercussions of the legislation they pass.

Unsafe At Any Speed

Minnesota State Representative Mike Jaros (DFL-Duluth) has been kind enough to put forward a bill designed to protect me from the menace of vehicular mobile phone mayhem. The goal is to ban mobile phones for use while driving--but just the hand-held variety. If you have a hands-free set you’re fine. He tried to ban them entirely last year: "I had it so you couldn't use the cell phone at all," Jaros told KARE 11, "And I changed it to hands-free, you could still use the cell phone but you can not hold on to it."

His argument is that the distracting nature of holding the device causes as many (if not more) car crashes as drunk driving in Minnesota. The statistics bear that out. This is typically the case across the country. So, he’s right about that. But that sounds to me like a case for changing the DUI laws rather than finding new things to criminalize. He went on to say that it may be inconvenient for some people (Jaros himself doesn’t own a cel. phone), but it’s a small sacrifice to ensure our safety.

The language of the bill he proposes is straightforward enough: "No person may use a mobile telephone while operating a motor vehicle that is in motion unless the mobile telephone is equipped and used with a hands-free device."

Well thank fucking God for this guy.

Someone needs to check to find out if this guy owns stock in a company that sells hands-free devices. Since this practice is such a menace, on par with drunk driving, I think it is only fitting that the punishment for talking on your phone while driving be analogous to DUI punishments. I mean, that makes sense right? If they are equally responsible for car crashes and the damage to our society, then let’s treat them as such.

I've seen people get in their cars with their phones after talking all night. They must have had at least 6 conversations before they got behind the wheel. Then they proceed to talk WHILE they drive. I mean, there's simply no excuse.

First offense is a misdemeanor if you are caught talking for more than .08 hours. You'll receive a $500 fine and 48 hours of community service with at least 4 hours of jail time. We should encourage insurance companies to double your rate and you’ll have to hire a lawyer for $3,000 to plead your case. You also need to spend 2 afternoons in a classroom to learn all about the dangers of phone- driving (this only costs another $300—make your check payable to Mothers Against Mobile Mayhem). You will have one year probation with a 3 month suspended sentence. So if you get caught again you will automatically go to prison for 90 days.

Second offense, refusing the phone inspection or talking longer than .12 hours is a gross misdemeanor resulting in all of the above, but with a mandatory 30 day prison term. That’s right, you’re going to prison my friend. It’s like committing aggravated assault except with jail time.

Third offense is a felony. Just like robbing a bank, shooting someone in the arm or setting a school on fire. The punishment for such a heinous crime is up to the judge, but at a minimum you are going to prison for at least a year…. typically three to five.

But why stop there? I mean has Representative Jaros ever used an iPod? Those are some damn engaging devices that not only require you to use your hands, but one must also look directly at it…much more distracting than talking on a phone. What about an iPhone? Holy shit! It’s the mother of all roadway distractions! What about applying make-up? Ladies, you know you shouldn’t do that, I think a little time behind bars might teach you a lesson. I for one, use my electric razor in the car. Yep, I’m one of those guys and I need to be punished. Since the problem seems not to be the conversation, but rather the use of one of your hands, shouldn’t we make it mandatory to keep both hands on the wheel at all times? We need an immediate ban on manual transmissions.

Until these appropriate and reasonable punishments are applied to this menacing problem, I simply won’t feel safe. I encourage you to write your legislators and tell them to enact these penalties for the crime of Phoning & Driving.

A Place Called Hope

I think we all realize there’s something terribly broken with our country. But I question our collective ability to really put our finger on it. We know something is wrong but we’re not quite sure what. Sure there are specific things we all have... a laundry list of our own personal pet issues. But I sometimes think we are losing sight of the big picture. In our zeal to figure out the details I think we’re missing the basics. Hence the almost cult-like draw of Barack Obama.

It’s like America has cancer and this is the guy telling us everything is going to be alright. He’s selling us hope--and we’re buying. Don’t get me wrong… there’s nothing wrong with hope. Ask any cancer survivor and they’ll tell you how important it is. On the other hand, some times what you want is hope, but what you need is a really good oncologist.

There’s no doubt that something is wrong and that we, as a country have lost ground. Maybe cancer is the wrong metaphor. Maybe the best way to describe this is to imagine that the world is a massive multiplayer video game where all the countries are players. The goal is to improve everything about your country… your standing in the world, the economy, your political and military power, your influence and general well-being of your people. The game has goals that are universal to all players (improve the environment, increase peace and quality of life etc.) and one’s score is based on where they start in the game. Let’s say that eight years ago the U.S. had a score of 1,000 points. Further let’s say that another player… we’ll call him “Player 2” is running Iran and he had a starting score of maybe 200.

Do you get the feeling that maybe our score is now around 700 and Player 2 is up to about 400?

That’s the sort of thing I think we lose sight of. It’s the sort of thing I worry about with Barack Obama. There’s just this sense I get from him that he doesn’t recognize the zero-sum nature of a lot of these issues. Thinking we can just chat it up with Mahmoud Ahmadinejad and we’ll suddenly have all this good will and everyone will fall in line is naïve at best and dangerous at worst. I don’t know--I like Obama. He seems smart and articulate and open to new ideas and willing to work for people of this country and the world at large. All in all, the opposite of what we have with President Bush.

But could it be that the current President is so bad that we are just instinctively looking for the opposite. Sometimes I think we are getting blinded by our panic about this cancer of an administration we have today and just desperate to find something… anything that distances us from it. Like searching for hope when what we really need is chemotherapy.

I Hate Myself for Loving You.

Valentine’s Day. Mother-Fucking-God-Damned-Valentines-Day. Need I say more? I am so perpetually irritated by this day that I couldn't even muster the internal fortitude to write about it yesterday.

We spend $13 billion dollars on this silliness every year. By “we” I mean everyone else because I simply refuse to participate. I am offended by this day on multiple levels. First it commoditizes the emotion love. Our ability (or our curse) to love being, you know, the one thing that truly sets us apart as a species. So let’s take that precious gift of humanity and make it about greeting cards and chocolate.

Second, it is a socially discriminatory holiday. We all know intellectually that this holiday is presented as one that is about the both of you. And in a way it is. It’s about women and the men who buy them things. “Valentines day is my favorite holiday!” she squeaks. Well of course it is. If I had a day when it was all about me and I got an endless stream of candy, flowers and gifts that I didn’t need for doing absolutely nothing it would be my favorite holiday too.

But the real object of my disdain is the psychic trauma this Hallmark Holiday has caused generations of children. You see, in order to feed this frenzy of unnecessary commerce we need to indoctrinate children with it. Hence the school valentine exchange phenomenon. For some reason, adults think it’s appropriate to force children to give each other “valentines”. It’s just… wrong. These are kids. Valentines are proclamations of love. This is fucked up. Not to mention this is typically a traumatic event for many children. “Will the cool kid give me a valentine?” “My little Valentine box is empty because no one loves me.” “People hate me because I am fat.” This is where all those social stratifications and class wars begin my friends. This is the moment that forges the reality of our society and causes the divisiveness that follows us though our lives. It has infected us ever since that first valentine was slipped into that first, crappy shoebox decorated with glitter and Elmer’s glue. I believe that it is, in fact, Valentines Day which is responsible for the majority of our societal ills. It feeds this innate antipathy we have toward one another which manifests itself in conflict, violence and hatred. It brews and festers in the collective consciousness of us all until at some point all this frustration anxiety and hatred swirls around the universe and ends up in the Middle East. Don’t ask me how. It just does.

I think we should celebrate this day in the historical context of its origins.

“To begin the festival, members of the Luperci, an order of Roman priests, would gather at the sacred cave. The priests would then sacrifice a goat, for fertility, and a dog, for purification. The boys then sliced the goat's hide into strips, dipped them in the sacrificial blood and took to the streets, gently slapping both women and fields of crops with the goathide strips. Far from being fearful, Roman women welcomed being touched with the hides because it was believed the strips would make them more fertile in the coming year. Later in the day, according to legend, all the young women in the city would place their names in a big urn. The city's bachelors would then each choose a name out of the urn and become paired for the year with his chosen woman.”

Now that’s a holiday tradition I can get behind.

This land is your land... this land is my land.

I find myself in an unexpected pickle. I’ve always sort of leaned to the Democratic party. It’s just my way I guess. But this year I find myself having to choose between a woman and black man. What’s the deal with that? As a white, heterosexual male where is the candidate that reflects me? When am I finally going to get a voice? I think it’s high time in this country that people like me elect a leader that reflects MY culture and MY values.

That being said (as I dislodge my tongue from my cheek), I think there are some interesting trends going on. One thing that always sticks in my craw is the media’s seemingly religious devotion to demographic breakdowns. “Who got the Hispanic vote? The Black Vote? The women under 35 but over 25 who have children, but not more than two and own their own home with a combined household income of over $75,000 but less than $100,000 who prefer dogs to cats?

Who the fuck cares?

I’ve always noticed that there is not really a lot of attention paid to the “White Vote”--at least not since I’ve been paying attention. I guess it’s sort of the default setting. The other demographics are the aberration. This has always irked me. It’s as if they don’t want to come out and say “the white vote” for fear of sounding racist, yet pointing out the “black vote” inherently implies the inverse is the “white vote”. It reminds me of people lamenting “black on black crime” as such a tragedy--as if black on white crime would be perfectly acceptable. Regardless, the point is that I have actually heard reporting on the “White Vote”. I feel so empowered. Finally I have a voice!

Here’s some interesting trends:

Blacks are voting for Obama - no surprise there I guess. Nationally 82% of blacks voted for him on Super Tuesday. That’s a lot. Latinos tend to support Clinton – I’m not sure why but 64% voted for her on Super Tuesday. Young people like Obama – He’s all “inspiring” and “hip”. OK I get that. Old people like Clinton. – Makes sense, since whatever the young people like, the old hate. White women like Clinton – they voted 59% for Hillary. No surprise here… sort of. I mean what I find interesting here is that women as block are divided by race now… not just gender. In other words, most black women voted for a black man over a white woman, while the inverse (white men voting for a black man versus a woman) is true. I find that interesting. Finally, white men, or as I like to say “The Man” or "Me". The Man voted based on his economic status. Poor men voted across the board for Clinton and the wealthy for Obama. By that I mean dudes who make $150,000 or more in annual income voted for Obama and people who fall below the poverty line voted for Clinton.

So what have we learned? Well if we are to believe that people really do break along these rigid race, gender and class lines--as the polls seem to suggest--we’ve learned that we have a hell of a lot more work to do in this country on the whole “unity” front.

We’ve learned that black people vote for black candidates to a higher degree than whites vote for white candidates… does that make them more racist than white people?

We’ve learned that white men typically trust a black man more than they do a white woman (or perhaps any woman regardless of color).

We’ve learned that Latinos either distrust black people or really like white chicks.

And finally we learned that rich guys like other rich guys.

What a bunch of bullshit.

Back To The Future

Technology can be a wonderful thing. We’re connected to the world via the Internet, we have mapped the human genome, we have explored beyond the confines of our planet and split the atom. It’s truly amazing. So why, oh why is there a three second delay between the news anchor in the studio and the reporter on the scene? I understand that the news feed needs to go through the satellite and get fed through God only knows how many devices. But still, this shit should be moving at the speed of light. I mean, isn’t that how fast this stuff moves? I can talk to the Emperor of Japan on the phone or have an instant messenger conversation with some dude in Australia or and it’s, you know... instant. But CNN can’t figure out how to beam a signal from New York to Atlanta without some fucking delay that causes the two people talking to start/stop pause, repeat and speak over each other.

Anchor: …and we have Steve Douglas reporting live from New York. Steve, what’s the mood where you’re at?
Steve: [looking into the camera for 3 seconds while he nods] John the mood here is euphoric, it seems
Both: Excuse me Steve – that New Yorkers.. Sorry. – Go Ahead – Go Ahead – Well, as I was saying – Steve? – it seems – Yes John? Go ahead – You say the mood is euphoric?
[both pause for 10 seconds of silence waiting for the other to start talking, they then start talking at the same time again. Rinse. Repeat.]

Jesus Christ that’s annoying.

I was watching the election results the other night and this kept happening. They can have real-time, up to the second polling data displayed on a 200 inch plasma jumbo-tron but they can’t synchronize their audio? Radio waves moves at the speed of light. That’s 299,792,458 miles per second—which is pretty damned fast. So why does it take 3 seconds to go from Ney York to Washington DC? There’s something wrong with that math. I don’t think NY and Washington are actually 900 million miles apart. I don’t buy for a second that CNN hasn’t been able to solve this technical conundrum. I think it’s purposeful. There’s just no way they are that technically incompetent.

In fact I think they are actually somehow manipulating space-time for some nefarious purpose designed to eventually control the Universe. At least that’s the sense I get when I look into Wolf Blitzer’s beady little eyes.

A Show of Hands--A Huge Waste of Fucking Time?

For those of you who didn’t participate in yesterday’s record-breaking political caucus, you missed something. Something bad. I hear a lot about how great it is that so many people participated. “Isn’t it wonderful that so many people came out and contributed the democratic process?”

No.

It was a pain in the ass. Like most things, the more people that participate in something the more fucked up and convoluted it becomes and the lower the bar for the common denominator is set. So much that it becomes a useless endeavor. At my caucus, we didn’t even address resolutions or sub-caucus for delegates. There was no time. People were registering and waiting in lines until 8:00pm. So we essentially got off to a start an hour late for a two hour process. Not to mention the collective wisdom of a bunch of people who don’t really know what they hell they’re doing. So in the end, people voted for a candidate. It was essentially a straw poll since it didn’t necessarily relate the number of delegates going for a given candidate. In other words, it was a sham.

If you’ve never done this before, it works differently for each party and can vary from precinct to precinct. But in a nutshell here’s the process as it’s supposed to work:

6:30–7:00: Doors open to registration
7:00–7:30: Rules of caucus read and precinct captains and other party officials elected. New rules for caucus established and voted on if requested.
7:30–8:30: Sub-caucus selection. Voters disperse into groups by issues and candidates and nominate delegates to represent this caucus in the DFL convention. Determination of viability for delegates is made based on a percentage formula of total participants relative to the number of total delegates allowed for a given caucus (determined by precinct).
8:30–9:30: Party resolutions and platforms debated.

This is a very over-simplified version. Within the delegate selection and sub-caucus process there are a host of rules. Only three members may speak for or against a given issue, no member can speak more than 1 minute on each unless allowed by a vote or if all others wishing to speak on the issue had their chance. Motions are “moved”, seconded” and spoken for or against then voted on. It’s all very… democratic. I’m not doing the complexity of the process justice. On the other hand, when working with a smaller group it’s actually quite engaging and fun... if you’re into that sot of thing. Regardless, it’s supposed to be an empowering engaging process whereby you interact with your neighbors, weigh the issues and set the agenda for your party.

None of that shit happened yesterday. Here’s how mine went:

6:30–7:30: Search for parking spot and walk.
7:30–8:30: Wait in line to register and cast straw poll ballot for president.
8:30–9:00: Debate whether there is time to actually select delegates by sub-caucus and decide who they should be. We decide not and delegates just sign up with no debate or selection process.
9:00–9:15: Debate whether or not there is time to discuss and debate resolutions.
9:15–9:30: We decide not and just send the resolutions on in without even reading or discussing them
9:30–11:00: Sit at home and try to get the icky taste of disenfranchisement out of your mouth.

The end result of all this extra democracy scurrying about is that more people got to experience it less. As a wise man should have once said: “If we sacrifice the quality of the democratic experience at the expense of increased participation, we shall have neither.”

Whoever that guy might have been who should have said that… I agree.

Our Chief Weapon is Fear, Fear and Surprise

There are two kinds of people in this world. Well that’s not true. With over six billion people there must be at least… five. But here in the USA, there’s only two. People who care about the Super Bowl, and people who care about Super Tuesday… and people who care about both. Okay, three. There are three types of people in the USA, people who care about the Super Bowl, Super Tuesday or both… and people who care about themselves, their families and their health. Four. Okay. There are four types of people in the USA.

“I didn’t expect a sort of Spanish Inquisition!”

Nobody does my friend. Nobody does. That bit never gets old. Thank you Monty Python. My point is, that there are two exciting events going down in a short period of time. Between the two, the country has been mobilized. I think it’s fairly safe to say that the vast majority of people, for the first time in a long time, have something to talk about with each other. Whether it’s the Giant’s surprise upset of the undefeated Patriots or Hillary’s surprise upset in New Hampshire. Or the story Eli Manning living in his brother’s shadow early in the season, almost forgotten and then coming back to take the lead in the end… sound familiar John McCain?

These two events have more in common than it may appear at first glance:

Politics: Political debates include a lot of discussion about religion.
Football: Players publicly thank Jesus and practically hold Mass for each and every touchdown.

Politics: Armchair pundits inaccurately predict the outcome.
Football: Armchair quarterbacks do the same.

Politics: People generally confused about the rules of a caucus.
Football: People generally confused about the forward motion rules.

Politics: Most Americans ambivalent about the outcome.
Football: Most Americans care about passionately about the outcome.

Politics & Football: The team with the most money usually wins.

According to all the experts, the Democrats stand poised to win regardless of the nominee. The argument goes that they have too much momentum due to the failure of their rivals… sound familiar Eli Manning?

Every Little Thing, Gonna Be Alright

If I ever write a book, I already know what the dedication will be: “Dedicated in loving memory to my youth, hope and optimism.”

From what I understand people seem to think of me as somewhat of a cynic. I don’t know where they get that idea, but I guess that’s typical isn’t it? Just what I would expect from... “people”. Ever since I can remember, these same people have been extolling the virtues of positivism. As if thinking everything is going to turn out wonderful is sufficient. The theory goes something like this: “If you think positive thoughts and have a positive, optimistic outlook then good, positive things will happen. If you have a pessimistic outlook, bad things will happen.”


It goes without saying that this is utter and complete nonsense.


















“Believe it is possible to solve your problem. Tremendous things happen to the believer. So believe the answer will come. It will.”
- Norman Vincent Peale

Yeah? Okay Norm, I BELIEVE that I won’t die. I am immortal. Wow. That feels great. The burden of mortality has been lifted. I think I’ll just wander into traffic, chain smoke and eat a pound of bacon for every hour I am awake--which is a lot since I’ll be coked up and pointing guns at cop cars all night. Without any negative consequences I can do anything I want. Now that I think about it, that’s actually what’s going on with people who end up featured in the Darwin Awards. They’re not stupid, they’re just very positive people.

Why on earth would anyone plan for success? “I know, let’s spend all our energy focusing on what good things could happen to us and not plan at all for the horrible maelstrom of shit that could happen to us. That way when it does (and it will) we’ll be totally unprepared for it.”

Focusing on the positive is like masturbating without a Kleenex.

Think about it.

State of the Disunion

Tonight is the last time President Bush gets to tell us that the State of our union is strong. I for one, am sick of the lie. Just once, I’d like the President to walk down the congressional aisle, soberly ignore all the people reaching out to him, stride right up to that podium and say: “My fellow Americans the state of our union is… well, how should I put this? Ummm, we’re fucked. My bad.”

The most annoying part of the State of the Union Address is when they have these planted people in the audience that are supposed to be representative of the typical or (more often) the extraordinary American who has overcome adversity and still manged to capture the American Dream. There’s the widowed 24 year old black woman with newborn twins whose husband just died in Iraq but she is still supportive of what he was doing and will, herself, soldier on. Or the octogenarian who still works 3 jobs even though he’s got lung cancer and is missing a foot. These people are meant to inspire us to believe the lie. I always feel sorry for them. They always seem to have this expression on their face like they know they’re being used, but somehow they got tricked into this like a crack addict gets tricked into prostitution. It’s just... dirty.

Since this is his last State of the Union Address, I’d like to see President Bush pull out all the stops and give us examples of what’s really going on:

“My fellow Americans, tonight I stand before you humbled. Things have not really being going according to plan. For example I met a young woman from Omaha Nebraska named Michelle Nelson. Michelle works hard and plays by the rules. She finished college with honors, got married and had a son. Sadly, the $60,000 in student loans combined with the $20,000 in high interest credit card debt forced her and her husband into a sub-prime mortgage which has now doubled. Money got tight, the fighting never stopped. Her husband started drinking when the bank forclosed on their home. Some health problems forced the couple to seek emergency medical care and their combined insurance denied the claim forcing them into bankruptcy. Which, of course, has been changed during my administration to make it almost impossible to declare, thereby closing the only real avenue to financial recovery. Michelle couldn’t be here tonight. She killed herself 3 days ago. But her orphaned child, now a ward of the state, is here and looks forward to seeing his daddy again when he completes his 4 year prison sentence for drunk driving.”

May God continue to bless the United States of America.

Shut Up and Take My Money.

There is an employee of a Blockbuster Video near my house who really cares about his job. Simply put, he’s passionate about renting movies and signing people up for their Rewards Program. That sounds like a good thing at first glance, but trust me… it’s not. All that good will and intent has somehow manifested itself into a pathetic, awkwardly enthusiastic stage persona. When he puts on that little blue shirt he is “in character” he’s… “on” for lack of a better word. It’s an ugly, transparent performance. Imagine the smarmiest, most predictably pedantic used car salesman you can think of, then give him the brain of 14 year old girl and put him in the body of the “comic book guy” from the Simpsons.

There you go.

Now you’re getting the picture. I suspect a shiver just went down your spine. “Hey how ya doin’? Cold enough for ya?” “Oh sorry we’re closed… JUST KIDDING! Ha ha ha.” “Hey, I see you’re looking at older movies, you should be on our rewards program.” This fucking guy. He pushes that God damned rewards program like a crack dealer. It is high pressure sales of the lowest possible order:

Me: “No Thanks.”
Blockbuster Guy: “But ya know, it’s free to sign up and you could get one of those movies today for free.”
Me: “I Think I’ll pass.”
Blockbuster Guy: “Are ya sure, because looking at your history, it could have saved you some money. It’s a really good deal.”
Me: “I’m good.”
Blockbuster Guy: “It just takes a minute to fill out the form.”
Me: [silence]

I cringe every time I see him and always try to get in line at the other register because, I don’t want the fucking rewards card. I’m sure it is a great deal. Yes, I understand that with my rental history you could have saved me $5 already… I simply don’t give a fuck. I want to take my movies and get the hell out of this bright, obnoxious store. A few weeks back, I was standing in line behind 2 other people at the “other register”. There is never a line at his. He told the next guy in line to “Come on over.” “No waiting, aisle 2! Ha ha ha!”. The guy looked over at him and said something that almost restored my faith in humanity:

Guy in Line: “No. I think I’ll stay here. I don’t want to deal with your sales pitch.”
BlockBuster Guy: Oh c’mon, I won’t give the sales pitch.”
Guy in Line: “No, I think I’ll just wait here in this line… I don’t want to deal with you.”
Blockbuster Guy: “Guess I did something wrong.”
Guy in Line: “Yes.”

My hero.

Then Blockbuster Guy told the next person in line (an older lady) that she should come over to his register and in his unflappable way repeated his earlier call: “No waiting, aisle 2.” She just looked up and shook her head at him. Then he looked at me and I did the same. It was a mutiny. We were four people deep at this register waiting for the quiet, 16 year kid to scan our DVD’s and let us be on our way without a word.

We were rebelling against, not just this guy, but the whole false sense of urgency and consumerism that pervades the place. I realized then that we were all pissed about being there in the first place. We were all mad that Blockbuster has pretty much driven out all the competition leaving us with little choice. We felt guilty and dirty for contributing to the downfall of Western society and this guy… this poor guy was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

For one brief moment, four complete strangers united. I live for these moments. We banned together and said: “No more bullshit. Not today my friend.” It was a small victory that came at the expense of this guy’s ego and severely undermined his sense of self worth.

That made it all the sweeter.

Mini Me

OK, so you may have noticed a serious drop in content being produced by your’s truly. It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s just that maybe I don’t love you all that much. In reality, I’ve been busy so I wanted to take this opportunity to provide my mea culpa and present to you my new shiny 2007 Mini Cooper "S" - actual photo.

Yes. I finally bought a car. If you know me, then you know how long long long overdue this event is. But the stress of this effort, combined with an abnormally vigorous work schedule over the last week has left me spent.

This car rocks. I had forgotten how much a new car can really invigorate one’s life… almost like a (pun intended) new lease on life. Things look more colorful, people smell better and one can drive around town comfortable in the knowledge that you just don’t give a fuck about all those assholes out there. Suddenly, I’m above it all.

Wanna race?

Today is Broken

There’s something wrong with today. Am I the only who noticed this? My universe seems to be functioning within the manufacturer’s tolerances, but everyone else seems to be having a hard time of it. Well, not everyone. There is a group of people out there who always seem to walk on the edge of complete confusion. Most days these people somehow muddle through. You know the type, they get on the elevator without knowing which floor they are going to beforehand, then look at all the buttons in a perplexed, panicky horror. They just don’t think ahead enough. It’s as though they took the advice to “live in the moment” just a little too literally.

It doesn’t take much to send these already confounded folks over the edge. Usually a personal problem is the culprit. As such, their cataclysmic collapse into chaos goes generally un-noticed by the rest of us. But every now and then, you see it occur en masse. That’s when you know the day is broken. There’s just something wrong with the universe and the fragile state of their condition cannot withstand it.

Today I witnessed the aforementioned elevator problem. How exactly do two people get on an elevator, watch the doors close and then not know what to do next? I’m reasonably certain they have used an elevator before. How the hell do you not know that you need to know the floor number? I mean, isn’t that pretty much inherent in the concept of the elevator in the first place? Perhaps we need to put up large placards that read: “Warning! To use this machine, you must know why.”

On that same elevator ride, a different person moved their fingers around the buttons for at least 10 seconds searching for the “6” button. For a building with only 6 floors, that’s a pretty long time. He was articulating his thoughts as he searched… moving his index finger in circles over the panel of brightly lit buttons: “Where’s six? Ummm. Six? I can’t find six.”

IT’S RIGHT FUCKING THERE... NEXT TO FIVE!!!

I saw a woman struggling to open the door to the entrance of my building. She tried and tried but the door would not yield. I watched this for a while. After failing she attempted to think through her problem. She looked around for help, peered through the glass door. Looked up at the sky for a bit (perhaps hoping for some divine intervention) and after a long pause… she tried the same door again. You see, it’s a double door. There are two doors in this entrance, one of which is always locked. It never occurred to her to try the other door. So she was forced to stand there outside and wait for someone to come out. She simply gave up. The quandary with which she was confronted was simply too difficult.

Then there are all the occurrences of the little things, people not watching where they are walking, people spending 5 minutes negotiating a 45 point parallel parking maneuver only to see that they parked in front of a fire hydrant, and more generally just a lot of people walking about with their mouths open, looking nervously from side to side like a chipmunk in an owl sanctuary. I don’t know how these people get through life perpetually confused but they seem to manage it. They seem to have survived to adulthood somehow. But all it takes is for the day to be a little off, the universe just not quite right and it all falls apart like the Picaso-inspired house of cards that is their daily existence.

It must be exhausting. The world must look completely different to them. Colors, shapes and numbers must all blend together into sameness. It can’t be easy. Imagine trying to make change for someone when quarters nickels and dimes all look like silver pennies.