Talking to Myself

Swimming

2012-01-01T11:18:00.000-07:00

Since I was the smallest of children, I loved to swim.
I was always in the water, diving and flipping around like a slippery little frog. It was nearly impossible to get me out once I dove in. It became my second home. Large portions of my Summers were spent with wrinkled hands and shriveled fingers. My entire body was simply waterlogged, I stayed submerged so much.

The best times were when a storm was coming. As that misshapen and compressed wall of dark blue clouds slowly pushed in from the northwest, even the brightest of days dimmed little by little. A cool breeze quickly turrned cold, icy, against my wet skin. I knew instantly, I was not getting out of the water. I remember the wind kicking in and thick heavy raindrops, the size of marbles, falling...but "under"...nothing.
There, it was oh-so was warm.

Well...
I am ever the one for analogies, and last night another one hit me as I was trying to sleep.

My love life (is that what it is called for men?) is much like my joy of swimming, and in some ways, similar to swimming on those stormy Summer days, the days I liked best, when only the water could keep me warm.
I am sadly seeing I have been far more careless than I should have been. Time after time, I have gone around seeking the prettiest pool I could find. And once I found that pool...I dove right in (I am a man of extremes). I didn't check to see how deep it was or even if the water was cold. I was ready to swim! And once I was in...I refused to budge....until the water drained or I was dragged out.

And you know what I realized? I did same damn thing again!
I saw this pool...and I had to go swimming in it. I had to. There was no stopping me. I snipped the caution tape and kicked down the barricades warning me about the dangers of this particular pool. I laughed at the fools running the other way. Ha! Fine, I had an oasis. So when I got close enough...I took the biggest swan dive a man have has ever taken and aimed directly at the center of that beautiful pool I just could not live without.

The dive almost broke my neck.

I found out, a little too late, where I landed is very shallow. It's not even deep enough for me to swim. If I twist my body the right way, if I contort and turn, I can glide across it at times...but, if I am honest with myself, it isn't meant for a man to be in. I should say, it isn't meant for this man to be in. I will always think there is a deeper end to the pool (I have to believe that.) but for some reason I can't get there. There is some sort of barrier I can't see. Every time I try to cross over, I get cut up..hurt. I will forever have the scars to prove it, to prove how goddamn hard I tried.

So, for the first time in my life...I need to get out of the water on my own.
I'm going to get out of the water...I have to face this crisp wind that is coming. But, I'm afraid of being cold.
It is much easier to stay where I am, to float along. However, I know will never really swim.

I've been urged for years to get out of this pool by many people, loving people. And, indeed, I have tried a few times before...but when it came down to it, I couldn't or I did, but jumped right back in.

What makes this time different, though, and why and I know I can get out of the water, is because someone stepped out of the bushes, or maybe out of the clouds (a friend, a long lost friend).
This friend has walked up to the side of the pool I am in, tears in her eyes. She's crying for me, with me. She isn't offering a hand to pull me out (...No, I must do that on my own...) but, she is holding this huge warm towel.
You see, the weather is cold outside and she knows it...she can feel it, herself. She knows the chill very well.
And because she knows me so well, she also knows how much I want to swim...how I long for it.
But, she isn't pressuring me to exit the water. She's saying, "Okay, John Newberry, if you want to stay in there, that's fine. I'm not leaving. Let's talk." She understands me, understands if I want to stay in this pool and never get out. No matter what my choice, she'll sit there...she'll be there...for me. For me.
I so love her for it. To try to express in words how that makes me feel is almost an insult to the emotion.

She's my own cherub.

So, don't worry, I truly have an angel watching over me and I'm going to get out of this water soon.
However, I don't care what anyone says. This was a good pool. I had to take the shot. Yes, it's sharp very very sharp and coarse in spots...but it has some really warm places too. I just wish it was deep enough for me to swim in.

The Sweetest Christmas Cookie...I Have Ever Had

2011-12-25T12:44:00.001-07:00

Last night, I went to my Aunt's and Uncle's Christmas Eve party. I am glad I attended, because I will remember this the rest of my life.

It was a wonderfully warm and casual gathering of maybe twenty people. Folks were lounging around or taking turns visiting with whoever they chose. My cousin Jaime and I were playing some strange card game by the fireplace. As we were doing so, I was snacking on some very tasty cookies my Aunt Kris had given me for Christmas. They had come sealed in a container not at all unlike a to-go box for Chinese food, sporting a few ribbons and streamers. Quite clever.

I glanced from over my cards and saw this tiny thing tumbling towards me. It was Gi-Gi. She is very young and Brooke's (Jaime's older sister) absolutely beautiful daughter.
Earlier in the night, the two of us had already shared many cups of invisible tea from her pink princess set (which I... think....was far far too hot for me to drink at first. But guessing whether I was supposed to be enjoying my drink or be scalded by it, is much tougher than it would seem if you only go by the expressions of a little girl), she was also so kind to as to refill my mug over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over...(sigh)..and over and over and over, she even let me hold her dolls for a few minutes as she readied them for bed.
So, seeing her head my way...I figured, odds were, I must be thirsty again.
Nope.
I found out I wasn't hungry.
I watched as two-inch long fingers reached into the box of cookies I had before me. They pulled out one, then two, then three... Soon, all the cookies (all my cookies at that!) were pinned to the chest of this little (yet, respectfully brazen)thief, who then went around the room and passed them out to other people. Out fairness to Gi-Gi, she did leave me with the corner of a sugar star.
I survived the heist and went back to the card game. Fine. I didn't want cookies, anyway,

How much time passed? A year? A month? Twenty minutes? I couldn't tell you. But when I looked up, there she was...again.
The girl was stalking me.
Her impossibly small hand was outstretched. She was holding something...just for me...only, this time it wasn't imaginary. ...and, there was no need to search her expressions. I knew what it was. It was a cookie. Well...at some seemingly very distant point in history, it was a cookie. More specifically, it had belonged to a cookie. You see, what she held couldn't have been an actual cookie. The thing between her fingers was globular. It edged and drooped over her miniature digits. Cookies don't do that. Generally, they hold form...or at least, my cookies did.

As yummy as this multicolored mass of goo was to her, I didn't want any. There really was no need to share this me. She could keep my cookie, if that's indeed what this sad and soggy thing in her hand had once had been. It wasn't that big of a deal. At this point, it was hers. I was okay with that. I really really really was.
Nonetheless, my pleas of "No Thanks" and "That's Okay" and "Oh, you have it" did nothing to dissuade, this now generous vandal. I had to give in. I had to. She's a Jedi. At two feet tall, she towered over me...I was powerless. There was no use in fighting any longer, so I extended my hand.
Gi-Gi gave me, what could only be described as, the "paste of a cookie" and it didn't plop into my hand as much as it smeared.
My response, as Gi-Gi gleefully trotted away?
"Brooke, your child is so disgusting." But even as I said it, I couldn't help but laugh. I have never had such an experience. Ever. Even after it was gone, I felt that cookie, or cookie-corpse, in my hand for twenty minutes.

Before Brooke and her husband (Mike) left, Gi-Gi came to see me one last time. I wasn't sure what else this little thing could possibly do to me. Unexpectedly, she gave me a kiss on the cheek to say goodbye. It was like a little dew drop.

And then she was gone...with my heart in tow.

Today, as I write this, and I think of the innocence of that child, of her handing me the last bites of something she thought was so wonderful, I can't help but think...it may be the sweetest Christmas Cookie I have ever had.

Merry Christmas.

Faith in God's Justice...

2011-12-20T10:58:00.002-07:00

Faith...what is it?

Faith: complete trust or confidence in someone or something

Typically, people think of faith as accepting. In a religious context, it is saying, "Okay, God, I believe you." It is a willingness to move past whatever is standing in front of you, or take the step in the dark not knowing what is out there. However, like anything, faith can be more...much more.
While I do not understand the ability to accept something blindly...I find it admirable in a way.
But there is another kind of faith too, a faith for others, who are like me. They want or need a little more information. And doesn't God, our God, realize this? Of course He does. Because if He if doesn't, He shouldn't be called "God."

So, here is where my act of faith is different. It is not so much like stepping into the dark. It is like stepping into the dark on a tight rope. My act of faith is not in accepting the answer...but...in asking the question.
Why?
You see, I don't pretend for one second that I can stump God with my tiny questions. (Even I am not that bold). But when I ask the question...I am laying it all out there. I am putting my total faith in God. I am saying I know He has the answers.
And for me, it is an incredible act of faith...because so much can be riding on I what I don't find.

I love to think out-loud and share it with people...so...

If you dare, take a step of faith me while I ask another question...let's see what we find...

Alright, I have another one. Let's start with a definition.

Justice: the quality of being fair and reasonable

God is just...right?
The Bible says He is.

I heard this question (or one form of it) offered to a preacher, and I found it so very interesting.

Here is the question:
Should a finite being (a human) get sentenced to an infinite punishment (Hell)?
Put another way...if a man only lives 50 years on Earth, does 600 billion+ years (and on and on...) in Hell seem fair?

So, let us go back to our definition of justice. Is our definition wrong? No, I think it's pretty solid. Then, is the description of God wrong? I don't think so, either. In Exodus, God makes it clear how important Justice is. As an example, the famous/infamous "eye for an eye" code is found there. That is His idea of what Justice is.

If you were to look at the "eternal sentence" of the damned (really of absolutely anyone) and make an analogy of it, what could you come up with that would look reasonable or fair? I see nothing.
On your balance (your imaginary scale not too different from the one Blind Lady Justice holds) which measures out what is "fair and reasonable"...on one side I picture a raindrop. That is the sin of a man's life. On the other, as punishment for this sin, there is a raging waterfall...because the water will never stop coming. How do those two measure up? How do they balance?
I see a speck or mote of dust and on the other side of the balance an entire mountain range...yet the mountain range continues to grow...for all of time.
Where is the Justice in this? How does that scale sit level?

Even the worst things a person can do turn small, insignificant, when looked at on the scale of infinity. Humans cannot even comprehend the idea of infinity, yet we can be sentenced to it. Isn't that a bit odd?

If you were standing in plains of Kansans, in some wheat field with nothing else around, and Mount Everest was placed in front of you...it would be enormous. It would tower over you. But if you turned and walked away, and did so long enough, it would become smaller and smaller. At some point, you wouldn't even be able to see it. You would never know it was ever there.
That is the idea of infinity and Man's sin...including the very very worst of sins. Yes, the VERY worst. Over they span of time and distance they become meaningless. They are a raindrop against a waterfall.

Does God not see this?
Surely He must.
If He is the just God we believe Him to be, how is this reconciled?

If I am struck down by lightning...now you know why.

2011-12-18T03:16:00.011-07:00

It is either very early or very late when I am starting to write this, I guess it depends on how you look at things.
Christopher Hitchens' death has made me do a lot of thinking...A LOT.
I fully expect to lose a couple (if not more) Facebook friends who read this, or maybe because of the debate it will cause after. I am okay with that.

I will get to the point.

Growing up, I was taught that God was, among many things, omnipotent and perfect. I have come to the conclusion that both those attributes we often lay on God...are simply wrong.

Why?

It is impossible.
I asked someone "Where did Evil come from? Did God create it too?" The answer I was given was, roughly, "Evil wasn't created by God, but rather it is a byproduct (or maybe the only product) of what happens when God isn't around." And I think that is a pretty a standard answer. If you turn from God, the only choice is Evil.
Hmmm...
But think about that.
What it says, is God cannot...CANNOT...destroy Evil. It happens every time He is not there. It follows him like a shadow. And if God is eternal, then so is Evil. If God cannot destroy Evil, He is not omnipotent.

My second point...God is not perfect, maybe even not omniscient.

A perfect being (who can see all past, all present, and all future events) does not change their mind.
When is indecision a model of perfection? Would not an eternal and perfect being see all the future choices which had to be made? Why would there ever be a change of heart on any subject?
Look at Abraham. He was told to sacrifice his son. He was ordered to murder and burn his child.
(Yes, I know, it was a test of the man's faith.)
As you know, I am not a parent and more than likely never will be. However, I could not fathom such an action...ever. Could you? Should you?
Tell me this, which is better? To think that God wanted Abraham to kill Issac and burn his carved up body, only to change His mind at last moment...or...God knew all along it was never going to happen?
Because I say the last, is the act of a sadist.
Hitchens often compared monotheism to North Korea. His point is well-made. How does the whole Abraham and Issac story not sound like something the "Dear Leader" would require of a subjugated people? In an effort to prove their loyalty to the Party, people would be required to show a willingness to offer up their own child.
Would we say it was a only a test today?
No...it would be looked upon as a crime against humanity.

If you know every thought a person a has, if you can read them like you can program on a computer, and allow them to be tortured with the idea of killing their own child out of loyalty towards you...but you know you will never allow them to do it...how are you NOT a sadist?

Or would it be better to think God changed His mind?
(In both instance, though...the simple demand on Abraham should be utterly disturbing and just horrifying.)

Is saying this blasphemy? Probably.
I guess I will see what happens to me next.

Fighting Something

2011-10-30T20:38:00.007-06:00

I have almost decided that "Life" is not something we go through. Rather, it is a Something which fights against us.
Now, it is easier on people and harder on others. Then, there are chaps like me...who help this Something beat the hell out themselves. But not matter what, It always wins.
Always.

With this thought in mind, I came across across an ancient Jewish Proverb. It wasn't one written by Solomon, in fact, I am not sure if anyone knows the origins of where it came from. I suspect it is from the time of when the Jewish people were in Egypt because that would make sense...but I could be very wrong.

Like all good proverbs, it is short.

"I ask not for a lighter burden, but for broader shoulders."

What I love about this, is how it can be seen in two different ways.

On face value, it is a non-complaint. It is acceptance. Life, and all the trouble which come with it, is out my control. I just want to manage it better. "Yes, I know it sucks. Help me out."
Can we make a bargain? Is there some middle ground where it won't be so bad on me?

The second way to look at is the way I prefer...it is a view of defiance.
It is like a muskox turning his face into the bitter polar wind for the protection of the herd.
It is a challenge to the Something...an insult. And it may be the only insult a human can ever give It, which has true sting or bite.
"Yes, I know you are going to win...but I am not going to make this easy on you."

In a way it's similar to when I was around 19 or 20. I got into a fight with this guy. He was huge (no, I mean it...he was really big). Looking back, I suppose, it was quite stupid...but I refused to back down, I would not cower to someone...no matter how big they were.
He won the brawl, of course, but you know what? I damn near took his eye out. So every day for the rest of his life, when he looks in the mirror and sees that scar, he will remember me.

That's how I want to be with Life.
I won't quit. I won't back down.
Pile it on.

If my shoulders were bigger...
...well, my challenge was issued long ago...and still stands.

Cops Beat Up People Because They Know They Can Get Away With It!

2011-10-30T10:05:00.000-06:00

I Believe - Cowboy Mouth

2011-10-27T09:07:00.000-06:00

Fox News Smears Mom @ Occupy Wall Street

2011-10-26T13:13:00.000-06:00

Sissel - Bridge Over Troubled Water

2011-10-21T06:25:00.000-06:00

Levi Kreis I should go with lyrics (Vampire Diaries 2 X 22)

2011-10-19T20:20:00.000-06:00

Creed-One Last Breath

2011-10-18T22:27:00.003-06:00

October 21st is supposed to be the end of the world.

Well, I guess, it is possible God will slap the planet silly that day. It's not like you can prove He won't do it.
So, we will have to bite our nails and pace floors until October 22nd, hoping to wake up...seeing that He didn't do it.

I will make this wild prediction...(wait for it)...The world will keep on spinning.

Either way, here is an utterly beautiful song for those of us who survive that day, but still feel like...

Well...

It's a song for those of us who realize how badly we messed up our lives or worry we sold our souls along the line somewhere:

"Please come now I think I'm falling
I'm holding on to all I think is safe
It seems I found the road to nowhere
And I'm trying to escape
I yelled back when I heard thunder
But I'm down to one last breath
And with it let me say
Let me say

Hold me now
I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking
That maybe six feet
Ain't so far down

I'm looking down now that it's over
Reflecting on all of my mistakes
I thought I found the road to somewhere
Somewhere in His grace
I cried out heaven save me
But I'm down to one last breath
And with it let me say
Let me say
[ Lyrics from: http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/c/creed/one_last_breath.html ]
Hold me now
I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking
That maybe six feet
Ain't so far down

Hold me now
I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking
That maybe six feet
Ain't so far down

I'm so far down

Sad eyes follow me
But I still believe there's something left for me..."

Hinder - Lips Of An Angel (Acoustic)

2011-10-18T06:17:00.000-06:00

Creed My sacrifice + lyrics

2011-10-15T16:55:00.000-06:00

Amistad

2011-10-15T05:47:00.012-06:00

When I was young and, I guess, what you would say was a kid. I had this friend.

No, friend, isn't quite right...best friend? Yes, but even that seems to understate it. Compatriot.

On it's face, that may not seem too special. So what? Everyone has those.
Well, this friend was a girl. She was as pretty as you can image any young woman can be and just a tiny little thing. She lived on the other of side town...some would say, the wrong side of town. She went to a rough a school and lived in an ugly neighborhood. Me? I wore braces and felt insecure. My father was a doctor. We lived in a rather nice house and lived a comfortable life. I went to a private Christian school.

There was very little similar about us...or so it seemed.

I, honestly, don't remember how I gained the courage to talk her. Once I did, she changed my life forever.

We bonded. Fast. People talk often about how they "click" with someone or how they "hit it off." She and I were like two trains speeding along and pulling up next to each other. Every car was in the same place, every window matched, even the engines thrummed at the same rate...that's how we were.
We would sit on the phone for hours, literally hours, talking about what...I can't even imagine now. I remember hiding in the darkness and whispering so my parents would not hear me talking to her. We could not talk to each other enough. Our fears, our hopes...our nightmares....were things we shared.

Anything. Everything.
Then one day...the tracks we rode split, veering in sharply different directions. It was a hard and blunt turn without warning signs.

She was moved away.

Other things happened too (private hurts...things I will not share. Those are for me and her only to know).

We went our different ways and it was the single hardest pain I have ever endured...to this day. Over the years, I carried a little spot in my heart reserved for this friend. (Okay, it's more than a little spot.)

But the thing is...you cannot replace a friendship like that. I have worried and ached for this friend. My concern for her was like a ghost standing outside my door. I have wondered what her life was like. I have hoped for the best and feared the worst.

Some, my age, would laugh and say such an idea is strange, harmful. I should have let it go long ago or sought therapy.

Maybe.

But then...twenty-something years later...

I got a message...

...from her.

She had been carrying the same thoughts, the same worries, the same loving-concern for me. It broke my heart. Truly and honestly it broke my heart. But if it makes sense, I think it may have unbroken it too.

Those two trains from twenty years ago are still running. Now, things like time, distance, and (oddly enough) Internet have made it so those two trains aren't perfectly in sync like they were long ago. (Not to mention the fact, that while it's sturdy, I have beaten the hell out of my train. )

But they have their moments...and this is still new to both of us.

The most important thing of all, she knows where this train is...and it will always be here for her.

Friendship doesn't seem enough to call what we had. I am going to my roots and use the Spanish word for it.

It is Amistad.

When said right, it is beautiful. It sounds and looks permanent.

(I normally post these on Facebook. This is one is just for me.)

What We Forgot When We "Never Forget"

2011-08-31T20:26:00.022-06:00

Bells will be tolled and the names will be read. Documentaries will replay what happened and newscasters will explain in detail the events of that hideous day...each trying to show a bit more insight than the last.
But the next thing to follow, in the hours or days to come, will be a common chord. We will hear people talking about how they long for the unity this country felt on September 12th, 2001...how moving it was to see Americans, outside party lines, rally around one another. That day will be longed for.
Me?
I have no such desire.
I wish for an America two days before that.

Overall and as a human experience, 9-11 was not unique. Our country, for a few short days, banded together like countless villages and towns over time. It is what others have done before, after, and during great fires. It was similar to the way the Collective formed bailing lines to quench the flames. It is how ancient shipping and island communities would cling together to escape typhoons and tsunamis.

After these, there was always a great sense of camaraderie.

Because, honestly, that is what people are truly talking about, isn't it?

On a smaller scale, it is also similar to how small family reunions form at funerals. The death brings people together who have not seen each other in years. It forges bonds.

Is the loss, whether one person's life or half a town, worth a short-lived fellowship? You cannot have one without the other, for in scenarios like this, the two are bound.
By seeking the unity of September 12th...you are, if unconsciously, seeking the horror of the day before. The two are conjoined twins.

I long for the America before we simply chose to torture people. I want back the place where true "common sense" ruled and not some sort of negotiated idea of Justice or a Machiavellian land where anything can be justified in name of "national security."

I want the time when torture was torture and not something else because White House lawyers were able to contort phrases into giving the Administration cover to do just about anything they chose...even doing it sometimes to Americans.

Or when the People understood the Government cannot simply hold an individual forever. We knew, every person, deserved a FAIR trial, American or not.
Or the Government could not snatch up HUNDREDS of people from across the world and zip them off to secret prisons, torture them, hold them for many years, then...release them...as if nothing happened...and at the same time hold itself immune from prosecution.

We knew that our laws were based on a moral foundation and applied equally to all, not skewed by citizenship, nationality, even religious views (no matter how extreme).
I want a place where Homeland Security, the single most intrusive government agency ever created, does not exist.

I want a place where Muslims are not looked at with suspicion and have their holy books burned by Men of God, for no other reason than spite.
I want a time when there hasn't been a decade of war and countless (literally countless) lives have been lost.

Wishing for September 12th is like longing for the bruise and medical care sought after a broken limb. I want to be healed.

I want September 10th.

2011-08-28T18:31:00.001-06:00

BLOG

Yes, indeed, I WILL celebrate.

2011-05-03T21:24:00.005-06:00

What happened to all the people who had so many creative and torturous ways to kill Bin Laden after 9-11?

Where are all hyper-patriots who cheered (for whatever strange reason) the execution of Saddam?

Why is that, now, we should take pause and not be happy that one of the most vile creatures to ever live has been removed from the planet? Why should I not smile at the death of this "human" who was killed in a time of war?

If he were any other Joe, then there might be some validity to that, but he was not just another man. He was a breathing obscenity, a taunting idea, a temporary champion, a repugnant mascot....you name it.

For ten years he was "wanted dead or alive."
Now...I am told, by many people, I shouldn't celebrate death and enjoy the fact he was shot in the eye.

I don't think people understand. Had he been a world leader, he would have been on the order of Hitler, or Mao, or Stalin...would we not cheer their deaths? In actuality, Bin Laden would have been far worse than any of those men. Imagine a nuclear armed Bin Laden...he would have brought death to millions through medieval and primitive methods, with beheadings by swords and daggers, stoning, burnings, whippings, subjugation....see where I am going?

Will he live on in martyrdom? I guess, to some degree he will...but he was not an Arab Jesus, he was not Mohammad or some Muslim Yoda...he was a madman. One thing all martyrs have in common is......they are dead. Let his cave-dwelling bands of followers seek guidance from his ghost. Let them fight on in his name and squeeze funding from the sea. I am willing to bet anything that his death frightens (ha! terrifies) them more than it galvanizes...

...because they now know, there is nowhere you can hide. He was the most hunted man on Earth, but he was also the most hidden. He was tucked away like gold stashed by a troll...and America found him.

It may take time, however the United States will get you. It may be through bombs dropped by drones you cannot hear and see...or...it may be in the middle of the night in your bedroom.

So, I will rejoice today. And next time I go to the Ocean and take a swim, I will take special pleasure knowing I am dancing on Osama's grave...and...AND... if I have to go to the bathroom while I am swimming....

Yes, I will celebrate.

The New Odyssey

2011-03-20T06:42:00.005-06:00

If nothing else, Operation Odyssey Dawn is indeed odd.

The United States has contorted and twisted itself into two meaningless wars (in Afghanistan and Iraq) which will go on for, at least, several more years if not another decade. It is clear that thousands more people will die at best, for revenge, but what is smelling and looking more and more like a blood lust...now this?

Does anyone really believe ground troops will not be involved in Libya at some point? Does anybody know who the people fighting against Gaddafi are? The Right broke out into fits because of the possible dangers surrounding overwhelmingly peaceful protests in Egypt. They should throwing all out tantrums, even shoes, at this. They should be having all night sit-in's at the Capitol.

Dictators believe they will be dictating laws for eternity. So, they are not known for fostering a good environment in which the public is very learned on how lead themselves...on democracy. Imagine the power vacuum which will be left once Gaddafi is outed. How many mini-dictators will try to take his place?

When American troops were ALREADY in Iraq, "liberating" the people, a multi-headed civil war broke out. It was nearly a disaster.

So, what does the United States do now? We jump into the middle of a civil war with a rather well-armed and obviously insane tyrant, who probably believes he can win.

How can such a combination work out better?

This humanitarian action has expanded like a war-soaking sponge. It went from a "no-fly zone," grew to a "no-drive zone," and...because Admiral Mullen said we will be targeting tanks and artillery cannons...it seems to be bloating into a "no-parking zone" as well.

...but it's not a war.

Gaddafi is surrounding himself with human shields (who all "volunteered"). He is parking his tanks inside cities and setting up anti-aircraft batteries on top of businesses and schools. He will probably even start killing random people, blaming their deaths on the US, so he can parade their dead bodies on TV.

This humanitarian action will end up costing more lives than it saves and isn't going to end well...for anyone...but especially for the people of Libya, who we are "protecting."

The Day The Music Died...

2011-02-19T18:38:00.007-07:00

I have had several people tell me, with this wreck, I was very lucky...

Oh, yes, my stars lined up just right Thursday morning...I am sure any psychic (those lecherous insects I hold in such high regard) would have told me what to expect for the day, my luck was that obvious.

I was headed to Park City, Utah by way of the interstate which was, luckily, not quite as plowed as the morning newscast said. As I crested a hill in the right hand lane, I hit a snow pack/ice sheet. Before I had the chance to redirect myself and stop my car from skating around like Johnny Weir, a semi whipped past. A disgusting gruel of ice, snow, and mud coated my windshield. Wipers would have just smeared it like a wet turd, so I was hoping it would slough off quickly. Hope...oh, me and my hoping.

To add to the drama( excuse me, good luck), at the bottom of the hill was a white box van...stopped. Yes, he was stopped on the interstate. At this point, I had a few choices. I could change lanes anyway and be crushed by a closing dump truck or cause him to flip. Or, I could have moved in to the hazard lane, which most certainly would have vaulted me down a ravine. Or, I could have pumped the brakes and hoped (there's that word again) the guy down the hill would get out of the way.

I chose that latter.

I slid 200' feet or so...then, just as the goo began to fall from my windshield...bang!!

My car rocked forward, lifting the rear end into the air, then spun off into the ditch which was only (hahaha...."only") 15' deep at this point.

After I gathered myself, I climbed out of the ditch. I got there in time to see the vehicle I hit, DRIVING OFF!!! Wow! Talk about luck!

The aura of fortune glowed so brightly around me (I guess), no one saw the need to stop and check if I was alright. Who would? A guy staggering on the side of the road with his car in a ditch...this man is sooooo lucky.

A few minutes later, a cop pulled up.

He wouldn't pay much attention to the details of my story until I had given him my DL, Registration, and Insurance information and before he confirmed I wasn't some mass murderer on the loose. Thank my lucky stars!

With his and the world's safety assured, he turned to me. He listened to what I had to say then asked...."Are you sure you didn't hit that pole over there?"

What?! I took in a breath and replied, "Yes, officer, I am rather certain I didn't hit a pole." Hmmm...did I mistake a van for a pole? They do look so similar...

Luckily for me, he agreed.

A little later, as I was sitting in the tow truck filling out paper work...Officer Compassion opened the door and handed me a ticket. Talk about luck!!

It was for following too closely (to a vehicle I still don't think he believes was there) and for not having enough tread on my tires. Ah, yes, the tread on my tires...that's the culprit. It's has nothing to do with the luge up the hill behind us, or truck that splashed me, or even..."the van."

It was clearly the tread on my tires.

I couldn't take it. I said, "Officer, if I had been carrying a two ton anchor in the back of my car and thrown it out at the top of this hill....I still would not have been able to stop in time."

"You have to be prepared for all road conditions." He said, in an oh-so-condescending tone.

Yes, of course...I should have hired a little leprechaun to sit on my hood with a squeegee, because you never know when a truck is going to coat you with mud.

My luck for the day got better, when I found out I hadn't gotten collision on my insurance. And...when my dick boss pulled up. He gave me all of 45 seconds to gather some tools(from the car which I will never see again) and told me he would drop me off at the office, but no further. I was so lucky, he was sure I could find a way home.

Yep, I am pretty lucky.

"Hey, at least you didn't get killed or seriously injured."

Right, right...because this way, when I lose my job I won't be a homeless cripple. And, at least it isn't summer. Who wants to be homeless in summer? It is so hot.

I was sooooo fortunate I wasn't hurt, because the only person who asked the primary car-wreck etiquette question, of whether I was alright before asking what happened, was of all people....the insurance agent. Even if she didn't care, she did a decent job of feigning concern.

If there is an "anti-lottery" and someone wants the winning numbers, I'm sure I can come up with them...because I am such a lucky bastard.

Who needs church or school when you have Glenn Beck?

2011-02-12T09:15:00.007-07:00

It sure is a good thing I've been watching his show again...brothers and sisters, I have seen the light!!! Hallelujah! Glory Be!!!

If it wasn't for Brother Beck, I would never have realized that freedom is not meant for all. I would have gone on thinking Democracy was a right of all people, failing to learn it's more of a consolation prize only to be awarded after years of bombings.

I can, almost, honestly say I understand that the potential risks (as minor as they are) of people (especially Arabs) having a say in their lives...is an unspeakable evil. I would never have believed that a peaceful protest is a glaring and ominous indication of future dangers. Christians, Muslims, Jews, and Atheists standing together...it's a textbook deception and tell-tail sign of intolerance and jihadist goals.

Why can't people understand? A Middle East full of free and voting Arabs is the precursor to Armageddon!! The end is nigh!!

( I think that is found in the 69th chapter of Book of Jezebel, but I'm not positive...I am not real familiar with the Book of Mormon.)

I am sure, because I have such strong faith now, that Pastor Beck will adorn himself in his black suit and white tennis shoes. He will launch a tour of the Middle East (I think he should call it "My Crusade"), starting in Egypt, and tell the people in Tahrir Square how mislead they are. I know he, being a man of such conviction and righteous faith, will bring a platoon of chalkboards and TV monitors with him. And...he will show the Egyptian people why they are wrong...why their celebration is out of line.

Preach it, Brother Beck!

The message is undeniable.

After their conversion to Beck's (mine too, now) obscure beliefs, they will fall to the ground and gnash their teeth. They will plead to the god, only Pastor Beck can truly talk with, and beg for President Mubarak to return. They will ask for forgiveness and request he come to the new palace wearing no pants (so each protester can, in turn, give a loving and apologetic smooch to one of his pink royal ass cheeks).

Without question, the people who were "detained" by the Egyptian secret police and escaped will gladly surrender themselves. They will masochistically beg to be "questioned" indefinitely.

"I've been such a bad boy...question me again, officer."

Some people (of no faith) would suggest Bro. Beck uses a lot of false dichotomies and slippery slopes (more like Chutes and Ladders) to draw his conclusions. Not me, though...no way, Hosni. If I have seen the proof, then you can too. All you have to do is look at his chalkboard! Follow all his zigging and zagging lines, take notes, record his show so you can watch it again, take more notes, only go to conspiracy websites and watch only FOXNEWS, and after a little more note taking...the connections are SO clear! It's like a "Where's Waldo?" picture...sure, it may be hard to understand at first, but...Oh, there's Waldo!!

Peaceful protest = caliphate...it is sooooooooo obvious.

Some say Pastor Beck is in need of hospitalization and serious, long-term, therapy. Others believe his divinings on chalkboards are similar to lunacy. Those blasphemers! Glenn Beck is clearly a man of god...as a reward, I think President Obama should make him the "Omni-Czar," our ultimate authority on ALL issues.

Calling Glenn Beck crazy, is like saying FOX has an agenda. Ha! Oh, ye of little faith...

How many times have you heard this?

2011-01-23T06:52:00.006-07:00

There are lines in movies and songs, which people can't find an original way to say or just think it is cool to put some sort of twist on. Either way, they are used far too often and need to be disposed of.

Example #1

"Are you threatening me?" or "Is that a threat?"

There are really only two ways a person can respond to that..."Yes, indeed I am," or "Oops, I think you misunderstood me."

But still, the writers of so many movies and TV shows try to work out some bizarre contorted phrase in an effort to create a new response.

Example #2

"You are asking questions way above your pay grade."

Generally, this is used in action flicks where an altruistic investigator begins to uncover a multi-leveled government conspiracy. It is my guess, that the authors of such movies (at some point) realize how flawed and implausible their storyline is. So, slap this puppy in there and it's as though you have held up a sign saying "Nasty People Are Plotting, Just Trust Us."

Then, high-fives are tossed between writers, "Oh, that's good" is said several times, and now they can move on to the next scene.

Example #3

"If I knew then what I know now..."

Even in the most absurdly constructed mind, how does that make any sense at all? ...If only I was omniscient, I would have...

By and large, this line is used in music and the singer is whining about a past mistake. It's a grown-up's version of Bugs Bunny saying "If only I took that left turn at Albuquerque!"

Hell, you're writing a song (making loads of money) about the whole damned experience, so I don't think things worked out too badly...your ignorance included.

Example #4

"But we need you. You're the best in the field and know more about this than anyone."

For the most part, this is used in Sci-Fi films, especially where the world is coming to an end. There is always some disenfranchised researcher who had his work shunned by the scientific community, or he was mainstream and fell out of favor any variety of reasons.

This idea is so overly played and used up, it is about as good as ketchup-soiled napkin from a child's Happy Meal. Hearing this line, is a warning of things to come...a sub-plot involving stolen or scoffed at ideas, but in the end vindication...oh, and the world is saved...at the last possible second.

Wouldn't it be nice to once have the person come in and not succeed? Maybe, "Why the hell did we bring you here? The Earth is now doomed because we wasted time on you. Somebody kick this guy's ass before we die!"

Those are a few...feel free to add more.

The Inside Scoop

2010-11-04T17:29:00.006-06:00

Because of my considerable political influence and heavy Beltway connections, I have been able to acquire a list of a few of the proposals the GOP/Tea Party intend on putting to a vote.

Here is a sample...in no particular order...

H.R. 101 Effective immediately, the minimum wage is to be repealed.

As a means to protect personal privacy, employee compensation will no longer be a concern of the federal government.

Conversely, businesses may now fine employees (up to and including 6 months Indentured Servitude) for any perceived or projected damages.

H.R. 505 English is to be the only language used in America.

Restaurants may not refer to themselves as having another county of origin.

Example: What was previously known as Mexican Restaurants, may acceptably refer to themselves as "South-western dining" or "Alamonium Period cuisine."

**Addition**

On a date(s) to be determined, hunting of illegal Mexican immigrants will be allowed. At this time, it is planed to be an "open" season. However, if the numbers of illegal Mexican immigrants begin to dwindle, a pool or lottery system may need to be set up.

All hunters must stay in their respective state and request verbal permission to hunt in another jurisdiction.

H.R. 704 In an effort to accommodate H.R. 505, Handguns may be legally sold at convenience stores and all retail outlets. The cumbersome and restricting background checks of the past will be done away with. For citizens who cannot afford such necessities, Firearms may, now, be checked out from libraries.

H.R. 911 All persons wishing to purchase, own, or view a Koran, must first register with the "Community Outreach" division of the Department of Homeland Security.

As well, use of the words "Allah," "Mohammad" or "Mecca" are prohibited while inside an airport or within New York City.

H.R. 1031. Halloween will be changed from its current Socialistic form. Children are banned from knocking on a stranger's door and pleading for a hand-out of candy. Instead, they are to request the homeowner sell them a treat at a reasonable price. If no deal can be reached, the child is allowed to offer a trade for other candies they may hold.

H.R. 401 All Science text books, specifically when talking about the origins of life, will be required to contain the first 6 chapters of Genesis.

In conjunction with this, all tests must offer two, at a minimum, acceptable responses to any single question.

Sample question:

What is the best explanation of how plants and animals came to be in their present form?

A. Through a selective process of mutations, adaptations, environmental pressures, and an inherent desire for all living things to reproduce.

B. God did it.

Either answer shall be correct.

So, there you go.

While I cannot divulge my source...I'll give you a hint.

She's "you."

Why Delaware matters...

2010-10-30T15:40:00.018-06:00

A blaring alarm and flashing blood-red sign should be seen in the minds of all intellectual people, when they stop to think the Tea Party believes Christine O'Donnell is the best candidate in all of Delaware.

Not only that, they believe she is one of top 100 people in all of America...out of 310 million... who should be making legislative decisions. In the entire country, she ranks in the top 99.999999998%.

Understand what an insult that is, not only to every American, but to humanity.

1. Christine O'Donnell is in favor of "tort reform." Yet...YET...for her "pain and suffering," she sued a former employer for $6.9 million.

How much suffering does a person have to go through to get 7 million bucks? Hey, you know what? Bring on the rich sadists...give it to me, baby!

2. She doesn't believe in life-saving stem cell research.

3. She says she has read "TOP SECRET" information which reports China is plotting to take over the US...forgetting she has never been in a position of security/authority where information like this would have even passed her in an adjoining building.

4. She said scientists have created mice with functioning human brains....how big are the heads on these rats?

5. She is completely clueless as to where the idea of "Separation of Church and State" originates.

Chris Coons and O'Donnell were having a debate at a law school. When Chris Coons recited the 1st Amendment to her, she questioned him saying, "That's in the 1st Amendment?"

The audience laughed...no, more accurately, the audience erupted with laughter.

To cover her obvious ignorance, she said, "Senators are not required to memorize the Constitution."

...No, indeed, they are not. BUT THEY SHOULD HAVE AN IDEA OF WHAT IS IN IT!!!

6. Christine O'Donnell believes that all of science is wrong and that the Earth is only 6000 years old. With that in mind, she thinks Creationism should be taught in schools.

I guess she thinks God wanted the Bible to be some sort of Science text book.

7. ...do I need to go on? Because I can...for days.

Here is the thing. Christine O'Donnell is not some aberration. She is a working model of how many (if not most) Tea Party folks see the world. They act from emotion, rather than reason. They believe something is being taken away from them, but cannot articulate specifics or deny the true factual rebuttals. They see conspiratorial minds plotting American demise and fulfilling infinitely elaborate schemes. They believe the government is run by secret societies, then are angered because a younger generation (which could never be informed) exercised its political might last election.

My friends...and family, you are smarter than this. Do not vote out of anger. Stop and think about what it is you actually want.

Think about how Joe Miller and Mike Lee (to name just two of many) want to repeal the 17th Amendment (which calls for the direct election of Senators by the People). They want you to vote them into office, only to make sure you can never have another say.

Rand Paul wants to repeal the Civil Rights Act because it interferes with a business owner's right to discriminate.

Marco Rubio thinks the retirement age should be raised and part of your Social Security money should go to investments on Wall Street...that sounds safe, huh?

Sharon Angle thinks those evil "Mexicans" are coming to America to take jobs...then join gangs. I guess, the latter is to make sure they kill off the rest of the working Whites.

I ask you to ask yourself this...

Is the person I am voting for capable of understanding the ramifications, both now and in the future, of the policies they create? Are the policies they want to make, good for the country, or good for them? Can I overlook the extreme views this person holds?

More simply...can I, with the only vote I get, endorse this person and feel comfortable with the future of America?

Before you answer that...Remember, if the 17th Amendment is repealed, it may be the last shot you ever get.

Those tricky tea-bagging Conservatives..

2010-10-24T11:32:00.008-06:00

The Tea Party is said to be based on the "founding principles" of this nation....hmmm...

With that in mind, I've been wondering how the Tea Party has been able to fool so many people.

They have made many believe, that in a desire to protest, there are vast Republican hoards and countless awakening Conservatives. They have made the case,that somehow, the scruffy faced man wearing a Rebel Flag, is far more patriotic than any liberal leaning slug...right?

How has the TP convinced some rather smart and well-spoken individuals (many I think of as friends...even family) that their extreme views are commonly held with others? How, then, are we not on the verge of a pandemic-like ink shortage from all the signs and posters waiting and wanting to be printed?

To understand the Tea Party's methods, we must go back to the "time" from which our tea-bagging friends draw their name. Why?

You see, this has happened before. Tomfoolery is a common American practice.

In 1776, or around that time, General Israel Putnam pulled off a fantastic hoax against the British...maybe the best of all time. He allowed a British soldier to come into Princeton to take the dying testament of a captured comrade. Knowing this soldier was coming from far superior force and would undoubtedly report on Putnam's strength to the British, a plan was hatched. The general only allowed the Red Coat to arrive at night. Candles were lit in every window, so it seemed that the nearly empty town was full. Then, as the dying man dictated his final words, Putnam had his men march by the windows of the home where the two men were meeting. Putnam marched the soldiers in groups of 10, 25, 30, 20....he regrouped the men and did it again in various other numerical configurations. He did this all night, as long as the two were together. Before dawn, Putnam made sure the soldier was escorted out of town.

When the soldier returned to the British camp, he told the commander that Putnam had an army of 4000 men and Princeton should be avoided at all costs...in actuality, Putnam only had 50.

Thus is the scam of the Tea Party. There are far, FAR, more single and small amount donors to DNC than to the RNC or the Tea Party.

However, the Tea Party/RNC has done a "Putnam." They parade groups of people, often the same ones, in front of cameras and in pictures. They give the appearance of a much larger mass of people than there actually is. 50% of the money the Tea Party has gotten, has come from just a handful of businesses. Over $10 million of the $15 million Carl Rove's group has taken in over the past 6 weeks has come from 4 guys...That's about as "grass roots" as my nose hairs.

Glenn "Putnam" Beck said there was almost 2 million people at his march in DC...but the DC police said it was closer to 80,000....does that sound familiar?

Were it not for the fact they are fooling Americans and not the British, I would say General Putnam would be rather proud of all the Conservative tea-bagging going on.

If only I didn't have to eat...

2010-09-26T19:18:00.005-06:00

Grocery stores have always been a place I despise going to. The odd yellowish lighting makes the floors look as though some brown slime has just been poorly mopped up.

Picking your choice of chicken is simply horrific. Slick slabs of meat, wrapped in a clear and air-tight plastic skin...yes, that it what I want to see...my chicken swimming in a pink mucusy liquid. If I walked up to some bird on the street and lopped its wing off (not that I would), I am quite sure I would never see something with the color or consistency in which poultry is packaged.

The dusty fruits are all the more scrumptious being as how every person in the city has found the need to poke and push or, in one way or another, molest something I thought sounded good at one time. I wonder how many people picked their nose or scratched their hole and then said, "Hey, how fresh is this tomato? Let me see..."

It's almost as disturbing as being in a restaurant and wondering how many other people used that same fork to eat with....hmmm.

But back to grocery stores...

Heaven forbid you have to pee...I am guessing people savor the idea of holding it all week so they can take one toilet bowl smearing dump during a shopping trip. I always walk in after a person, either shit out a dead cat or Satan himself chose to sit on the throne, because the smell is horrendous. It doesn't matter what store I go in...the smell...dear lord, the smell! What do people eat that creates such terrifying excrement? Coal? Plutonium?

I am quite sure it takes several days off my life each time I use a grocery store's bathroom.

Today, I was blessed with having a child sneeze on my leg. Yep, my knee got pasted with spittle and snot from some little bastard as I waited to reach for my Raisin Bran. It wasn't one of those quiet and polite ha-choo's. It was an all out blast. A snot shooter...the breed that would have sent crap flying across the room and you need to time to recover from. Good thing I was there to stop it or else some old lady might have fallen from the slicked floor.

My body quivered with equal amounts of anger and repulsion.

"Sorry," said the mother, once she felt the heat of my stare.

Really? Sorry? That's all I get? How about I spit in your ear? Or vomit on your child's head? I need to disinfect my leg and you are sorry...whatever.

If I were a Catholic priest, I'd have had the youngster clean it off. Instead, I shook my head and slowly walked to the bathroom...I could already smell what was waiting for me.

Oh, I how I hate grocery stores.

2010-08-29T16:47:00.000-06:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FKzYzo0DQEk&feature=related

So, just who is the Nazi in Washington?

2010-05-06T09:45:00.004-06:00

Faisal Shahzad is the guy who is tried to blow up a car in Times Square...and Sen. John McCain (the former GOP choice for President) thinks this man should be stripped of his citizenship and put on trial as an enemy combatant.

...and the crowd cheered, waving American flags and singing the National Anthem....

Can we stop and look at the thinking behind this? Can see how evil this idea is, for just a minute or two?

McCain doesn't think this guy should have been read his Miranda rights and shouldn't be brought up on criminal charges, rather be sent to straight away to GITMO.

The problem is....this guy IS an American citizen. This guy, while more than likely guilty...is ONLY a suspect.

The ramifications of doing what McCain wants are enormous....they may, indeed, be the most anti-American actions taken I will have ever seen. But the problem is, McCain isn't the only person saying this.

I ask this, does the nature of an accusation require some sort of extreme measure be taken? Does the fact that a man has merely been charged with a crime mean he has lost his rights as a citizen?

According to John McCain, and several other prominent GOP leaders, the answer is "Yes." There is no need for a trial here because it is so clear this man is guilty. Just lock him up.

But why?

Is it because he is Arab? Is it because he has only been a citizen for a year? It is both? What is the proper length of time and combination of events a person must fit together before they are a true citizen and before their rights are the same as anyone else? 10 years? 20 years? 15 years and 5 of them in the military? Or do they have to be born here in order to secure those rights? Maybe rights should only be given to those who are second or third generation American citizens...because after all, you can't trust those people whose parents were not born in this country, either. Who knows what evil dogmas or generational plots they have pieced together?

The plan goes like this...Grandpa moves to America. Dad lives the life of a normal man. And it is all setting it up for the grandson, oh yes, to blow up buildings....(insert evil laugh and sinister music here).

It's a matter of National Security. We can't let just anyone have rights...that would be insane.

I never heard a single cry for Charles Manson, David Koresh, or even Timothy McVeigh to be stripped of their rights. So, why this man?

If Faisal Shahzad has his citizenship revoked before any sort of trial or conviction, it will be an obscenity. It will be an ugly stain, graffiti, sprayed across the Constitution and the entire world will know all that hold (or say we hold) dear is meaningless.

Assuming a man's guilt and saying he is no longer an American before he has set on foot in a courtroom is Fascist. It is what happened in the Spanish Inquisition, the Salem Witch trials, and it is the type of "justice" Hitler used.

Too big to fail...redux

2010-04-30T10:03:00.010-06:00

FOXNEWS made a point to show how not a single company, which has gone through hearings the way Goldman Sachs is, has ever survived...

So, I have a question.

What happens if Goldman Sachs goes bankrupt because of these hearings/indictments? Do they just get bailed out again? Wouldn't it, by the very reasoning behind the initial bailout, require Goldman Sachs to be bailed out once more?

This is one of the handful of companies which CANNOT be allowed to fold, right?

Clearly, as both Presidents Bush and Obama believe, G.S. is too big to fail (and I still am not sure what that actually means).

Does the world fall into some newly formed black hole? Do planes start falling from the sky like large metallic hailstones? Does that wake the anti-Christ?

No...life and the world will go on.

Nothing is too big to fail...not men, not companies, not even countries.

Life doesn't work that way, so why should a person's money? A man can take care of himself, exercise daily, eat all the proper foods and be set to live until he is 120 years old. Then, one day, as he is crossing the street...he is hit by a car. It may have been an accident. There may have been a glare on the window which disrupted the driver's view. The driver could have been drunk or even been trying to get away with a crime...it doesn't matter. All the planning and care the man took to make his life long and full...is meaningless. He ends up dying a few years later as a crippled shell of the person he once planned to be.

People have forgotten that investments, savings, pensions, and even employment are a gamble. They are either betting their money will be safe with some institution or that an institution will be around (and viable) when it comes time to collect. Some are safer than others...but sometimes you get hit by a car.

A man dies, and so in time, must a company...let them.

I have neglected my blog...

2010-04-24T01:52:00.002-06:00

Dear Blog,

I have been away from you for a long time and I am sorry. I know you are not a dog or cat or some other animal I must feed, because you are still here. Had you been a creature of that sort you would be quite dead and rather smelly...maybe even carted away by a nasty bird or hungry raccoon. For this, I am glad you are not alive, my loving Blog.

I hope you forgive me, dear Blog, and trust I have not been cheating on you. I have not been out writing on walls or bathroom stalls. I haven't been penning things to paper as a way to avoid you. I don't intend to break up with you...I have just been away.

In the coming days, I will be sure to get back with you. I have many things to share and I know you will be always ready to publish them as faithfully as ever.

I will dream of you tonight, my Blog...and blog myself to sleep.

I know why I threw up, the Saints are in the Super Bowl.

2010-01-25T21:29:00.009-07:00

Ahhh...isn't that sweet...the Saints are heading to the Super Bowl....

Let's wipe away the cyber tears and slow down, not stop or get off...just slow down, the Saints bandwagon for a few minutes. Let's reign in them horses....

If I lost a drop of blood for every time I heard someone say, "Well, the city of New Orleans deserves it," or anything close to it, I would be a typing raisin.

New Orleans deserves it?
Why?
Because of Katrina? If it is for another reason, like...I don't know...they were a hell of a team this year or won the NFC Championship game, then maybe I would agree. But no...that isn't the reason offered...it so often has to do with Katrina.

How does Katrina have anything at all to do with football? Did the Saints save thousands of lives with floating islands made of footballs? Did the team drop everything and swim off to help the poor folks make it out? Did some fat-ass lineman empty his fridge and have the contents air-dropped for the people without food?

If N.O. deserves to go to Super Bowl because of Katrina...don't the NY teams deserve something for 9-11? What did Seattle deserve for Mt St. Helen's? What about the Indonesian soccer team...shouldn't they deserve to win the World Cup for next thousand years or so? What about Haiti? What do they get? Should they be in the Pan-American World Series for the next decade, at least?
What about SLC? We have loads and loads of mormons. What do the rest of us get for having to deal with that?!
Oklahoma City has pretty bad ice storms...should the Thunder be in the Conference Finals for a couple of years or just a good showing in the playoffs? Did the Lakers win the NBA Championship last year because of all the wildfires?

But, if that's how it works...then the reverse should apply...
If a team wins titles and nothing bad has happened to the city, we can say with a straight face, "Well, the 49'ers won all those titles. They deserved that quake."

You see how silly this can get?

How about we leave football, the game, as football...the game. Let's not make it into some sort of reward system for a natural disaster.

With that said...Colts 34-Saints 20

The tears in my father's eyes...

2010-01-14T11:55:00.007-07:00

Eight hours after we had gotten the horrible news...

My father was looking at a picture of his family. It had him, his two brothers, two sisters, and both his parents...over half of them gone. If a similar photo were to be taken today...there would be more empty space than people filling it.
He didn't notice I was watching him.

He didn't see my tear edging out, mirroring the one which had just fallen from him.
He didn't know that his private moment of pain was something I will remember for the rest of my life.
I have no idea what he was thinking and it seemed almost obscene to even ask or interfere with his thoughts. He was opening some oh-so private mental scrap book and flipping through its pages. He was reliving things which, even with his gift for story-telling, would only be stories to me and my brothers...to him, they were life.

My uncle Tim's death came as suddenly as anything can. Days after the passing of my grandmother, but before her funeral...he died.
Two funerals had to be planned in different states.

I could see a pain, an ache, in my father I had never seen before. It was a hurt so brutish, a lifetime of tears would only scratch the surface. It made me wonder how the last surviving person of a family line must feel...how alone. Tim Newberry was like an older brother to me, but he really was a brother to my father...I cannot begin to comprehend the true sorrow.

As the days go by, things will get easier for my dad. Time can do many things, but contrary to what most people say, it does not heal pain. If someone loses an arm, after years of work, they can manage to do most tasks effectively enough...but, they are still missing an arm. It is the same with death.
It may take months or years, but people learn to live. However, the loved-one is gone. There is no coming back, no prosthetic, which will replace the lost person...they are nothing more than a collection of images stored in a mental scrap book.

In his dueling hours of grief, my brothers and I stood at the side of our father and greeted it as an honor.

It is my hope...no...it is my prayer, that we did some good.

He is flying home, even as I write. I pray he can recover from this. I pray he will be able to relax and get some rest. I pray he can find some reason to smile, laugh. I pray...there will be no more tears in my father's eyes.

A few tips for anyone held hostage by a man in a wheelchair...

2009-12-24T08:46:00.007-07:00

I don't which is stranger...the fact a man in a wheelchair thought he could and should take people hostage, or the reality that he actually did it.

How is this possible?

So, as a form of public service, I am going to offer some tips on how to avoid being kidnapped by a wheelchair confined assailant.

1) Tip him over.
Unless the chair is made of lead or has a granite seat, it shouldn't be too hard to give the dude a quick shove.
Timmmmber!!! Problem solved.
What is he going to do? Ask for help getting back in the thing? No, he will just worm around on the ground until the cops arrive.

2)Run behind him.
If the guy is half owl and can spin all the way around from the waste up, this may not work. However, outside of the Weekly World News I have not seen many Owl-Men around for awhile.
Just like you would with the scruff of a cat, grab the little handles on the back of his chair and wheel his happy ass to the police station, give him a "time out" by parking him in a corner, or just roll him out into the street.
Again, problem solved.

3)Walk behind a counter and out the back door...then lock him in.
You don't even have to run to do this one. While I understand most everywhere in the country is now wheelchair accessible, wheelchairs are not known for being exceptionally maneuverable around tight corners. On top of that, he can't very well hold a gun on you and wheel you down at the same time.

4)Trot up a flight of stairs.
What is he going to do? Use the elevator to catch you? Send his partner in crime, sporting a walker, to come after you?

5)Throw a broom or stick into one of the spokes of his chair.
He'll spin himself to death or tip over trying to remove it...either way, the situation is resolved.

6)Batter him with objects.
This guy was in a Post Office. At this time of year, you know the place is filled with packages of 10 pound fruit cakes and baseballs on their way to little Timmy.
The guy is in a wheelchair...it's not like he can duck out of the way. We all played Dodge-Ball in school...ever remember seeing any all-star D-Ball players in wheelchairs? No? Why do you think that is?...because they are in wheelchairs!!!
You could even use the whole GW method...throw a shoe at the guy.

This reminds me of when I lived in FL and worked at a 7-11. There was some guy going around robbing stores using..........a screwdriver. Know how he was stopped? One night, when he pulled his utensil, the cashier laughed...and slapped him. The robber ran out of the store and was never heard from again.

This has been a public service announcement by http://www.rantingsfromutah.blogspot.com/ , the Coalition for Stopping Wheelchair Criminals, and John Newberry.

Let's have a smoke...

2009-11-18T10:29:00.018-07:00

My friend Adam and I were going back and forth a little about the 8th Deadly Sin...Smoking.

It got me thinking about an encounter I had with a woman when Casey and I lived in Ogden. At the time, I didn't own a car. I was relegated to riding the bus to get from place to place...which is always fun. Nothing like those yummy Bus People* to brighten your day.
So, here I was, just standing at the bus stop and minding my own business...like the good boy I am. I was having a peaceful smoke and planning out my day.
Out of nowhere I heard dragging footsteps. I spied the source and recognized it was a bitter and mean hag of a woman I'd seen before. She was a bus regular...a.k.a. a bus person...and a quite rude one at that. After a few seconds she started fake coughing. You know the kind of sound I am talking about...that sooooooo annoying guff people make when they "quietly" try to say your smoke is bothering them...
When I turned to her, I saw she had pulled the top of her collar over her nose and mouth....I suppose I had forgotten I was smoking sticks of tear gas and not cigarettes.
I looked away, 20% aggravated by the "subtle" hints my smoke was bothering her, 80% gleeful it REALLY was. It took her a few minutes, but when I lit up another cigarette (I only did this for the extra "pissing off" value of it), she said, "Sir, you could not smoke that here?"
Her tone was not as nice as the question seems.
I ignored Cruella and took a huge drag. I let the exhale create a small layer of smog around me...she was not pleased.
"Sir!"
I faced her, with the cigarette hanging from my mouth.
"Can you move over there and smoke that?" Her gnarled hand was pointing to some obscure patch of grass.
I smiled and nodded my head. Indeed, that was possible.
I said, "Yes, I can," then took another drag as I looked at her. "I can, but I won't."
Hahaha...how ya like them apples? I topped it off with a quick little wink.
The expression on her face was priceless. If I had snapped her bra, I don't think she would have been more shocked.
I finished my cigarette just as bus arrived and, like the gentleman I am, let her board first.

I think more smokers need to stand up for themselves like this...be proud of our addiction. In Utah, and many other states, you can no longer smoke in restaurants, bars and smoke shops...what?! You can't smoke in a place dedicated to smokers?! Isn't that like saying it's illegal to eat your burger until you get outside of Burger King? What am I missing?
Everyone needs to relax a little. Calm down, it's not as though this is a new invention. Man has been smoking since the dawn of time.
I will pay my $3.00 in taxes, per pack, and smile as I do so...but can you cut us smokers some slack?
Why can't we all just get along?

*Bus People are the folks who pretty much live on the bus. They think that everyone on the bus is their nemesis or a buddy interested in how their day is going or where they are going. They also tend to smell VERY bad.

I tried as best I could...go ahead, Beth, say you told me so.

2009-11-14T10:28:00.007-07:00

I have had an ugly day, and it is only noonish.
As some know, I have been going to help out at the Soup Kitchen in downtown SLC. It has been, in many ways, quite rewarding.
BUT TODAY...was different...oh, the rewards I was given!!!
First, there were rotating shifts of mini mormons running through the kitchen. That alone is enough to drive anyone mad or start banging their head with a pot, but each group had two or three cameras with them to snap shots or take videos...I'm guessing it's in case some Joseph Smith loyalty group comes along and doubts their mormanness. This way, they would have proof of their kindness and a sure ticket to one of their 300 heavens...even if they weren't wearing the holy mormon underwear ( they really have that, you know).
Okay, that was bad, but when they started singing Frosty the Snowman...(sigh)...shall we say I was, uh, bothered by that?
Next, while I was cooking, I had my sweatshirt stolen. If someone had said, "Hey, it sure is cold today. Can I have that?" I would have given it away in a second...no doubt about it. I have several others and wouldn't miss it.... But, noooooooo, they figured they would head on down to John's Thrift Store, use their Homeless Person Discount, and take what they wanted. It's not like it was 20 degrees outside or anything...as much as I enjoy being cold and shivering like a dying fish, I wasn't into it so much, today.
Before I knew my sweatshirt was gone, though, I stepped outside to have a smoke. While I was there, I looked up and saw a guy sitting on the hood of my car...scratching his crotch. He was just digging way down deep as if it was the most natural thing in the world...like I had parked it there for the sole purpose of letting his dirty ass rest on it.
I told him to get off it...and he did...giving me quite the look. Clearly, I was putting him out.
You know, if I wanted a homeless hood ornament, I would have plowed through the crowd of them on my way in...I would have shouted, "Hey, Itchy! You want a spot on here?"
Silly me for thinking the hood of my car was...a hood...and not Rip Van Winkle's ass cushion.!!!
Then, as I go to leave (by this time I knew my sweatshirt was gone) there is some other guy peeking in the windows of my car.
I started wondering if this happens all day long while I am cooking. Do they peer into the glass like a pervert at a boobie show? Was someone trapped inside and needed help? Did I kill a mormon and throw them in the back seat? What was he looking at?!
So, I asked the guy, "Is there something of yours in there, Buddy?"
Ummm...he pulled out a steak knife and said he was going to kill me...
You know how they say, one bad apple can spoil the whole bunch? Well, I came across nothing but spoiled, smelly, and itchy mormon apples, today.
Now I remember why I don't like people, in general, and want to become a hermit.

The GOP must LOVE Kanye West...

2009-10-10T15:22:00.003-06:00

We all remember the emotional mugging of Taylor Swift.
The doll-girl, pure as driven snow and wholesome young princess, accosted by the vile R&B thug named Kanye...and the whole world just watched it happen...the poor, poor dear...would she live? It was pop music's version of a purse-snatching.
Okay, I went a little overboard, but the point of what he did stays the same...he wanted to strip Taylor of recognition, of award. Why do I bring this up?
The GOP is doing the same thing with President Obama.
Somehow, getting the Nobel Peace Prize is a horrible thing. It is a falsity to be gifted only in insult. Rush Limbaugh (the mouthpiece for the GOP), his mindless parrot (Sean Hannity), and Glenn Beck (the crying lunatic) are to the President, what Kanye was to Taylor.
They just want to be mean. They want to cheapen and lessen acknowledgement. Rush said on Friday, "Our President is a joke."
No, Rush, the GOP is the joke.
They are playing some political game of Jenga, removing (instead of wooden blocks) huge sections of decency and credibility. They are after the man and not the what the man stands for...EXACTLY what they decried about Bush's critics.
Like Kanye with President Bush, they say Obama is a racist.
They think, again like Kanye, that a woman (Rep. Pelosi) needs to be put in her place by a man (Gen. McChrystal).
In the eyes of Kanye, the horrors of 9-11 and of Katrina were plots and evil schemes known to President Bush...if not set into motion personally. The GOP sees non-existent layers of Fascist strata, set out with great plan...treachery.
Kanye took the spotlight away from Taylor because he was the one yelling the loudest...making the most noise. Is that not what the GOP is doing? Making noise? Is Michelle Bachmann not doing such when she reads fake letters? Isn't she, with the use of distorted absurdities about "sex clinics" and parental deception, shouting from the stage...or rather, floor of the Senate?
Come on now...at some point people have to understand what is happening.
Even in Jenga, the most novice of players begins to understand there is less and less holding their tower...that at some point it is going to fall.
So, GOP'ers, cheer that we didn't get the Olympics, rage over the fact OUR President was awarded the Peace Prize, and pat yourselves on the back for being so righteous...because...there is, without question, less and less holding up the GOP tower.

Maybe we should "Cut and Run."

2009-09-28T17:43:00.004-06:00

I am at loss.
The war in Afghanistan is starting to seem pointless.
How does that song go? "One, two, three...what are we fighting for? Don't ask me, I don't give a damn. Next stop is Vietnam..."
Don't get me wrong at all here. September 11th required an answer. It demanded a response which would be felt around the world. The Earth needed to shake at our wrath...without a doubt. If ever there was a just reason for a military strike, it was then.

But...

Haven't we done that? Hasn't enough blood been shed...on both sides?
Are we fighting a war to kill one man...Bin Laden?
From all the reports we see, he isn't in Afghanistan...he's in Pakistan...if he is even alive still.

Here is my fear.

We are now creating generations of children who will have no other goal but to kill Americans. Young people are growing up to know nothing about the US other than we are a country killing their friends and family. Soon, no child will have known any other state of their world than war. Imagine that...your life is nothing but a continuous stream of death...from parents, to uncles, to brothers...They have no perspective of what happened in 2001. It's not as if the Taliban is going to make sure both sides of story are presented.

Think about this for a second...
What if America did some horrible thing...something awful...and we were invaded.
Would we stand back and say, "Yep, we deserve that. Kill whoever you think you need to. We will even hand them over to you."
No, of course not...every man, woman, and child would be doing everything they could to fight back. We would stand up to whatever force it was. We would forget any evil we did and unite to defend our homeland...our homes...our families.
Is that what is happening now in Afghanistan? Are there people who WERE friendly to us, but are now sick of all the fighting...so they join their countrymen? Could that be a reason why things don't seem to be going so swimmingly at the moment?
From before the Romans until now, man has had one thing in common...we are a social creature. We have evolved to be one because it is better for the survival of the species for us to group together...so when a social group/country is being torn apart...what is the natural and human reaction?
...to fight to the death to keep it.
This story will not end well.

Could PETA be what is standing in the way of "Peace in the Middle East?"

2009-09-27T07:36:00.005-06:00

I have had a little unwanted, extra time on my hands this week. So, as a way to deal with it, I have been going to the Soup Kitchen a little more (no, I have not seen Rashawn since that one time).
I have, however, been able to speak with some other guys.
Yesterday, I had a little chat with a Vietnam Vet who works at the Kitchen.
Picture an old Tom Hanks in Castaway. See him with almost pure gray hair, grown to its maximum length. Add a beard which puffs out in a waterfall of white and drapes down to the middle of his chest. Make him have a gruff, Wolfman Jack, type voice...and you will have the guy I am talking about.
He told me he had an idea on how to end all conflicts with Muslims and not shed on drop of human blood.
Here is his plan...
Muslims believe pigs, in all the various stages from living, to butchered, to cooked...are things so unclean that a human should never touch, let alone consume. Why? I'm not sure, but I think it has something to do with it being an animal which feeds on human garbage...but, I could be wrong.
It is so horrible, this pork, that even sliding a grime-covered finger over it...can result in eternal damnation. ..some sects are more forgiving than others, though, I must add. However, the more forgiving of the branches are usually not the people we have issues with.

Take some crop dusting equipment or fill big AC-130's with tanks that can hold liquid...do you see where he's going with this?
Fly over one of the most fanatical of these nations and spray away...with pig's blood. Coat an entire city...paint the town red with the stuff.
Others will fall in line pretty quickly. The wackos would see this as a horrible outrage, but wouldn't want this done to them, because there is no coming back from it. There aren't enough infidels to kill to erase having your eyes and mouth filled with pigs' blood.
For what it's worth, I think it is interesting.
I say you could take it a step further...
You could drop pig bombs. Kick a few really fat suckers out the back door and watch 'em splat around some boys planting IED's....instead of that cool whistling noise from a dropping bomb, they'd hear some porker squealing as it fell...oh, yeah, that would make 'em think twice.
We could have our guys carry raw chicken and pork when they go into a town. Grab Abdul gently by the hand and take him to some "quiet place." Then, slap him with a chicken breast for a few minutes...just long enough so his face gets all sticky and smelly with that white chicken goo...then...pull out a pork chop. Wave it in front of him and tell him, "This one is going to be dropped down your pants unless you spill the beans, bub"...bye-bye to all those virgins...
We could go a step even further, and use cloned pigs. Most religions believe, for some odd reason, that cloning is evil. Tell Mr. Mohammad we cloned Sally to Sow and he is going to be doused with an even more "evil" cloned pigs' blood from her. Tell him we have 4,ooo Wilber's and we are going to cut their throats and drain them into the city's well, or puddle, or whatever water supply they have...he'd talk.
It's mean...maybe even cruel...but I don't think it is torture. We would be using a culture's superstitions to work against them. It would be no different than a country eating rabbit on Easter.
But...
This would never happen and the reason used for not doing it would indeed be cruelty...to pigs. PETA would bomb research centers and kill scores of scientists...to save some pigs.
Here is a quote from Penn Jillette, "You want passion and truth? Okay...Teller and I would personally kill every chimp in the world, with our bare hands...if it would save one street junkie with AIDS."
While understand the Vet's idea may be naive, it does prove a point and highlight where our values are...or are not.
Hey, PETA, Man comes first.

Van Jones was not Jim Jones...

2009-09-06T05:58:00.002-06:00

I guess America is a little safer today. The sun will shine just right, so no one gets burned, and raindrops will ask permission before they fall on someone. Mice and rabbits can run and play in the open grass without fear hawks will devour them. Dogs will take the day off and not chase cats.
All because...Van Jones is no longer in office.
I feel so much more secure...
Or should I?
Maybe I should be worried.. Maybe I should dread the fact that a person was run out of office because he signed a petition...Maybe I should be afraid that if I think someone is a racist, I will lose my job...
Van Jones thought Glenn Beck went over the top when he said the President doesn't like white people...a fact numerous advertisers agreed with, since they pulled their adds from his show.(How many minorities does Mr. Beck have working for him? Maybe he is racist?)
Van Jones thought there should be further investigations into the 9-11 terror attacks and was then labeled a "9-11 truther." Never mind some polls suggest as many as 30% of the country thinks the same way.
Van Jones, to many, was clearly an extremist because he belonged to a group which supported black activism...how dare a black man do such a thing? The horror!!! It's almost as bad as an anti-abortion person belonging to Focus on the Family...
While I think the 9-11 conspiracy theories (plural--because there are quite a few) are groundless and have been debunked thoroughly, I don't believe the same way Congressman Mike Pence does...
He said, talking about Jones, "His extremist views and coarse rhetoric have no place in this administration or the public debate."
Really? No place in the public debate?
I dare say Mike Pence has no place in Congress.
How many people believe the Earth is only 6,000 yrs old, the Face on Mars is real, watched Oliver Stone's movie and think the Kennedy assassination was government plot, the Branch Davidians were burned alive by federal agents, FEMA camps are being set up, the media's details of the Columbine shootings, the Moon Landing Hoax, aliens crashed at Roswell and are being stored at Area 51...should I go on?
All of those are absurd and have been debunked...yet, people believe and speak about them on a daily basis. However, they are no more absurd than what Van Jones was said to believe....we shall pretend he never came out against the 9-11 truther movement when asked.
I don't know which is more crazy, thinking the government had something to do with 9-11 or waterboarding a single prisoner 183 times...they both seem out there, but only one of them really happened.
No matter what Glenn Beck's chalkboard shows, Van Jones is not evil. His ideas may be odd, but it doesn't mean he uses a Ouija board or consults the dead to make sure the country in more "green."
What did Voltaire say? "I disagree with every word you say, but I will fight to the death your right to say it."
I guess Rep. Pence found the rest of the quote...
"...unless you use coarse rhetoric and have extremist beliefs."
Mike Pence is a disgrace to the Congress, to his voters...and to America.

A cold day...

2009-08-15T14:15:00.005-06:00

Walking out the door this morning, I was greeted by a chilly breeze and thin icy raindrops. I was on my way to do some early morning community service. I chose to go to St. Vincent's, a homeless shelter/soup kitchen, in downtown SLC.
Shutting the car door, I turned up the heater and lit a smoke. I couldn't believe how cool it was...
Little did I know, Reality was about to swiftly and smartly kick me between the legs.
I had been to this place before to help out and so it wasn't a shock to see the scores of people huddled in doorways or leaning against the building to keep dry.
It is what people do when they don't want to get rained on, right?
After I had been there a couple hours and breakfast was almost ready to be served, I went around back to grab a few quick puffs.
That is when I met Rashawn.
Rashawn came over to me and asked if he could buy 2 cigarettes (the bus stop and day labor going rate is 25 cents each). By the looks of him, I was quite sure he didn't have the half buck and if he did...he needed it worse than me.
I just gave him two.
He's a handsome guy and close to my height. He is white, but his face held a leathered and tanned quality. He looked like, at one time, he had been very fit, athletic. Maybe tennis had been his game...
But that was in the past...not now.
Even with the soaked sweatshirt he was wearing, I could tell he only weighed about 130lbs.
He wasn't much more than a frame of a man.
I asked him how he got this place...to this point in his life...

...it broke my heart...

Rashawn was an out-of-state college student living in Utah. He had a major in computer science and, as he said, a reasonably good GPA (by the way he spoke, I believe him). He was working at a fine dining restaurant and it paid just well enough for him to afford a place of his own.
Life was clicking along quite fine. He had his future set, he had plans, goals...
One day, the restaurant closed down and he was without work.
The little money he had quickly ran out and he couldn't pay his rent. Soon, he was evicted. He had nowhere to go and in the embarrassing rush to get out, he forgot to grab a folder which had his ID, Social Security Card, and Birth Certificate...by the time he remembered and came back to get them, they were in trash bag headed for the city dump.

That was two years ago.

Sitting there, listening to his story and fighting back tears, I felt ashamed of myself.
I was cold.
How dare I be cold? How can I even think such a thing? Rashawn's life is cold...and it isn't even winter yet. This guy has no family, no home...and I'm cold.
I felt like such an ass.
I needed to get back to help finish breakfast, but before I went in, I handed him two more smokes...I didn't know what else I could do...what do you offer a person with nothing?
Before I walked inside, he looked at me with huge forlorn tears in his eyes and said, "You know, I can work almost any job. I want to work. I just can't, because I don't have anything to prove who I am. No one will hire me."
I shut the door and walked inside, warming instantly...and hated myself for it.

Fluorescent Light Tuna

2009-07-20T17:24:00.006-06:00

Okay, now I'm all for doing things safely.
I make sure I don't play Marco Polo on the interstate. I try not to blow dry my hair or toast some bread while in the shower. I even try (notice "try") to chew my food before swallowing...it just depends on how hungry I am. Hell, I even gave up my dreams of having a juggling chainsaw routine, all in the name of being safe....that's how safe I am.
But really now...
The new light bulb hysteria is just stupid.
There are people out there who seem to think there is this GIGANTIC hazard when a compact fluorescent light bulb (I'm going with CFL from now on) falls to the floor and breaks...because...they contain....are you ready for this....brace yourself....MERCURY!
(dramatic music crescendos and a track of people gasping should be inserted here)
Yes, it's not happiest of elements and in 7th grade it probably wasn't the smartest thing in world for me and Mike Charles to break an old thermometer so we could goo the stuff around like a big silver booger...no matter how cool it was (but, let me tell you, it was really cool).
It goes back to common sense...again.
How bad can these things really be, honestly? Think about it for a minute.
Are CFL's the only product on Earth which don't break from time to time during shipping?
What happens when Walmart's Joe Truck Driver hits a bump and a case goes crashing to the floor? Is HAZMAT called to rush Joe into quarantine and hose down the rig by guys in super-size space suits? I would think that might make the local news if it happened.
What does a store do when some little cowboy goes woo-hooing and yee-hawing through Home Depot and crashes his younger brother into a display case full of these bad boys? Does the store get shut down and terror alert level goes to a flashing neon red?
Of course not.
The mess is swept up and the world turns...with some little cowboy getting an ass-whipping when he gets home.
So, I am going to do an experiment. I am going to prove CFL's are not mini-Chernobyls, rather light bulbs.
I am going to break one (maybe two or three) of these CFL's...but....to make it better and before you call the SLC PD on me, I am going to get REALLY dangerous. After it breaks I am going to stand in the middle of this fuming toxic pile while eating a can of tuna (that should be enough mercury to kill me for sure, right? Or least give me a big metallic blister, huh?). I may even put my head against a running microwave, talk on my cell phone, all with my laptop running...has anyone done anything so daring?
I am quite sure all that will happen is, I will get yelled at for making a mess.
However, if I die or grown an extra thumb, I will give everyone who reads this $1000.

Never can say goodbye...

2009-06-27T06:58:00.005-06:00

Even on my days off, I tend to get up quite early. It is in these still dark and silent world moments, I have found it is often the best time to write...to express true thoughts. The day has not clouded my mind with tedious remembrances or forced me to realize I am getting another day older...that I have wasted another chance at being a better man.
But when I woke up this morning, something was off and I couldn't tell what it was...
Did I miss work? Did I say something to somebody I shouldn't have? Did I forget something?
That was it...I forgot...
I forgot a true legend of my generation died. For a moment, I lost track that a man who consumed so many people during my childhood, was no more.
I never thought I would be upset or near tears over the death of a celebrity (other than Ronald Reagan), but I find myself more bothered by his death today than only a few hours ago. I wouldn't go so far as to say I am heart stricken, but what I am feeling is something of a first cousin to it. But why? What did I really lose?
I am glad (very selfishly) to see my dear friend Beth feels the same way I do, and it is only because of her warm-hearted and endearing posts I feel free to write this. She may be the most honest person I have ever known...
My father told me that when Elvis died, he was in grief for weeks. He was truly torn-up by the loss. Elvis was someone he listened to growing up and it was like he had lost a friend...
Could it be the same with me? Was MJ my version of Elvis only I didn't realize it?
Maybe it is a "guy thing" or another stupid idea of the sort, but it seems almost silly to cry for him...why should I? I am not a child any longer and I should, by now, understand loss is something which happens. I didn't know him. I didn't go to single concert. And I wasn't a big collector of his albums (even back when they really were albums). Yet at the same time, I feel, for me to NOT shed some tears for MJ is dishonoring what he meant to me.
He, or rather his music, was there when I was down. He was someone I could turn to, like an ever faithful friend... He was able to express loss, love, and affection to or for someone when I didn't have the words...only emotion. Just watching the man dance was enough to make me smile...if even for a little bit.
I'd put on some of those big muffy headphones, holding them tight to my ears. I could practice my moonwalking in socks over a tile floor and vain myself into thinking I was getting pretty good at it. All the while he'd sing a private concert for as long as I wanted, chiming out the same song over and over, each time with just as much energy and strength in voice...never tiring...for me...until I had my fill. I would listen and feel better or braver, then put it away...able to come back to it when I chose. But when I did, maybe even months later, he would be there again...for me. Isn't that friendship? Loyalty?
I am quite sure it is.
So, today, I no longer grieve over the death of the King of Pop, rather my friend, Michael.
R.I.P.

Michael Jackson suffers no more...

2009-06-25T17:52:00.005-06:00

Time to vent...

I am sad Michael Jackson died. I really am...but what I am more saddened by, is the soon to come and simple-minded, ever so shallow, comments about his personal life.

Without question, we all know he was strange...a bizarre personality...but aren't we all? What would the world think of us, if we had all the money in the world and could spend it on every desire? What would our homes look like and how big would they be if we could make them into our only place of solace and peace?
The guy built a Ferris Wheel in his back yard and had a petting zoo...so?
Hell, I'd probably have a wax museum and fish tank the size of the Red Sea if I could.

So the guy had a lot of surgery on his face...and?
He wanted to look a certain way and had the money to do it. We say nothing when a woman gets a chest full of saline bags so she feels better about herself. We don't mind it when Jabba the Hut gets Richard Simmons to help him out...
OUR desires and, more importantly, actions are governed and monitored by the money we have to spend not our self control...

I also tire, bore, with the endless and pathetic one-liners on his trial and.........DROPPED CHARGES and ACQUITTAL.

Oh, yeah, we almost forget he was found "not-guilty." Or do we? It is much more fun, much easier, to just think he was "toucher," isn't it?

What I love (not really) is the double standard many "Christians" have when it comes to Michael Jackson. What happened to the line some famous guy named Jesus...and pretty important, if I remember correctly....said? Wasn't the quote," Give unto Caesar what is Caesar's and unto God what is God's?"
Something tells me Jesus wasn't just talking about paying the extra 2 cents in tax on a bottle of Mountain Dew. It has a much deeper call that we often forget...
Michael Jackson faced Caesar (the State of California) and was found not to be guilty of the crimes....according to Jesus...that should be the end of it. If there is something else to answer for...I'm pretty sure God can handle the rest.
What happened to the Christian principle of "Love thy neighbor?"
Did Jesus add a footnote to that and I missed it in Sunday School? Did he say, "Love thy neighbor...unless it is Michael Jackson. Then you can bust on him all day long?"
Which virtue does stigmatizing falling into...I don't know if Paul was real clear on that?

Michael Jackson sought to change the world (how many of us have even thought of doing something so large?) and in many ways did. I am not saying he was altruistic, because I would never say such a thing. However, I do think he had a good heart....and a broken one.

The King should be remembered for his actions, deeds, and music...not what he didn't do, not what people want to believe he did.
I would hate to go through life, through history, being remembered for things I was only accused of...it is a wrong no one should have to face or bare...even in death.
R.I.P. MJ

This afternoon at Walmart...

2009-06-03T19:00:00.005-06:00

I had the truest of joys in meeting Henry and Sandra today.
Henry was training Sandra on how to run the cash register...the "20 items or less, express lane"...and the only lane which sold cigarettes.
I am guessing one of two things (both may be true, honestly). Only people who don't know how to count use this lane...or...they only hire people who don't know how to count to work this lane.
So, after watching 4 people unload their carts full of animal dotted underwear and scented trash bin liners...and not buying any cigarettes... I stepped up to the counter.
I said, "A pack of Camel Filters, please."
Sandra stutter-stepped, as she realized she would have to move two feet from the safety of the register and go fetch my smokes.
Henry followed her, being the dutiful "customer service TRAINER."
She asked, looking at Henry, "What kind did you want, again? Camels?"
"Camel Filters." I said, talking to her back.
Okay, now I understand the whole world doesn't have the same great taste I do and may smoke something else, or even (gasp) not smoke at all...but still.
You would have thought these two were looking for a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. I watched them go past the Camels, maybe, six times before I had to help them out. Really, how hard was this treasure hunt?
"By your right hand. There they are." I was really quite nice with my tone.
Sandra moved to her left...
I sighed. Very quickly, I was no longer happy with her...it's those little things, you know?
"No, the other way. That is your right."
Sandra turned, scowling at me like I slapped her ass. But what was I supposed to say? She was moving the wrong way. If she kept going much further she would have been in the pharmacy.
I said nothing, only pointed to my cigarettes with my eyes, hinting the best course of action would be to turn back to hunt for my smokes.
In a very dry tone, I said, "They are the pack with the big camel on the front of them. It also has CAMEL written in blue."
Finally, after conferencing with Henry (not me) if those were indeed the right pack, she brought them back to the register.
As she scanned them, it beeped for my ID and I handed it over(want to make sure I am not some really mature 15 yr old, I guess).
This is where Henry and I no longer became friends.
He went on to explain to Sandy (I can call her that, can't I?) how important it was to check every person's ID. It didn't matter if they were 90 (yes, he said this). Even if it is your granny, check her ID every time (yes, he said this too).
Before I knew it, I said, "That's just absurd."
Henry was shocked, but before he could list statutes or codified Walmart policy...I put up my hand. Just give me my smokes.
The fat guy behind me wasn't speeding the process up, either. He kept reassuring Sandra (I like that better) how he was almost busted once too and how I may be part of some sting...hahaha...yeah, that's me alright...Officer John.
Here is the thing. Sandy will go by this as though God or, in her case, Joseph Smith wrote it as the 11th commandment.
I know she has to be careful to mind who she sells what to...but there has to be a limit. I understand, if little Timmy comes along with a Sharpie beard scribbled across his face, that is one thing. Or even the construction worker with some gray in his beard...I can live with that (sort of)...but, let's say Barbara Bush walked in...Henry would think he should card her...and, now, so does Sandra.
Do they get an "I card old ladies" sticker for their name tag?
What happened to common sense? Where did it go?
...certainly not to Walmart.

My ex-wife made Youtube...

2009-05-23T06:57:00.006-06:00

If Al Gore invented the Internet, then I am quite sure my ex-wife created or had something to do with the creation of YouTube.
Only my ex-wife could create a place where the strangest of ideas could be set out for everyone to see and where I am always wrong or mean when offering contradictions.
For instance...
I have learned that "Reptilian" aliens not only exist, but they come in the form of a red-headed androgynous person (woman? I really have no idea).
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XH1saCG7ZT4
They also come in more common yet notable forms...like Bill Clinton, George H. W. Bush, and the Queen of England.
I see that there are "Grey" or "Gray" (not sure which way that is spelled) aliens who have nothing better to do than peek through windows in the middle of the night or stand in the background as George W. gives speeches.
I have learned there is a face on Mars, the Moon, Venus, and me.
I now know we should worry about the Illuminati, a secret group of people who sit around in pentangular offices, consulting Ouija boards, and plotting the demise of mankind...and have been doing so for hundreds of years (should we really worry too much if it has taken them this long? And we thought the US government worked slowly)
I discovered that the Matrix is real.
I have also learned that if I step on my pet lion's foot...he will bite me. (really funny)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iUnJNxZWE1M
I know I can surf behind a Great White shark.
I was shocked to find out the Earth is hollow and has giant holes at the north and south poles.
I found out everything the Bible taught me was wrong (or right, depending on which video you watch).
I saw people will happily sign a petition to ban dihydrogen monoxide....(H2O).
I have learned David Icke is Jesus...then, he isn't.
I saw "evidence" that Tupac is still alive and the world will end in 2004....no, 2007....no, now it is 2012.

Only my ex-wife could come up with ideas like these...right?
There can't be that many nut cases out there, can there?

You see, we worry about the "Big Stuff" all the time, like taxes and the war...but, unless it is just one psycho tramp (my ex-wife) making all of this stuff up...we have a much bigger issue.
People say, "Don't sweat the small stuff."
I don't think that statement could be more wrong.
I say, sweat the small stuff. The small stuff is what makes ideas turn into movements and movements into crusades.
There is not only an assault on Science going on, now, there is an assault on Reason.
It is tiny grains of sand which will one day weather the Sphinx away...and it is little crazy ideas which will do the same to us if they are not shown to be foolish.

I litter for the sake of history...

2009-05-20T12:49:00.003-06:00

We need to be more like those Indians (sorry, native americans), don't we?

Those fellas were so good to the earth and at one with nature (whatever that means).

Were they?

Tell me this.

If these guys were soooooooo freakin' good about making sure Mother Earth was left the same way as they found it, then why do we keep finding all their broken and used crap everywhere we dig?

Something tells me there was no Chief Keepurpantson following them everywhere they went to make sure everything was picked up. I find it hard to believe the Indians (native americans, sorry...again) had the time to worry about whether their broken pot was biodegradable or whether the scented papoose paper they used on their little ones would float down stream and choke some dog drinking from the river.

Nope, the Indians (native americans, Sorry!) were very practical.

If they had to pee, they walked behind a tree and peed. If they had to take a dump, they squatted where they were and dropped a load...maybe kicking some dirt over it.

If a pot was broken...it was broken. They tossed it into a bush or just left it where it was.

If I do what they did...following by example...I'm a litter bug.

What were they?!

Over the hundreds of years since Brave One Feather tossed his first broken pot down a hillside unto today, their junk has become our treasure. Had they not done things like that, people like Indiana Jones would not have jobs.

So, this is my reasoning...

I will continue to litter...but...I am now doing so with a purpose.

I am making an investment into some future soul's profession. Hundreds of years from now, some cyborg archaeologist will find my junk, my litter...and it will make him rich.

You are welcome Mr. Cyborg Archaeologist...I got your back!

Shouldn't we be rude at times?

2009-05-20T06:35:00.003-06:00

Maybe it is just me and the curtish way I tend to go about things, but I think being rude is necessary at times.
Yes, I have an example.
Maybe a year or so ago, I went to pay my cell phone bill. For whatever reason, I chose to pay it in the local office.
People think the Post Office is an awful place to wait in line...no, no...try waiting to pay your bill in a room full of people pretending to be interested in buying the latest phone, knowing they only have $25 bucks to spend...it's a hell dreamed up by Spanish Inquisitors.
So, there I was, just off work and not wanting to be bothered. When I walk in, what do I see?
There is this beast of a man ( clearly a customer) sitting at the counter yapping away to the clerk who is trying help some non-English speaking couple understand why their 32 crumpled dollars isn't enough to pay the $75 bill they have.
Beast Man has, spread out in front of him, his Subway paper "plate" which is erupting lettuce and olives and only Lord knows what else onto the counter. He has a stool pulled up to the small customer service area and has not a single care in the world.
He was having such a good time...
Apparently, he seemed to think the clerk (certified customer service specialist) was really listening to him. At first, I was somewhat amused. Then, I realized I would soon...if God is good...move up in line and pay my bill...but, I would have to pass Beast Man.
As I aged slowly and the couple left, not sure why the man wouldn't take their money, I eventually moved closer.
Beast Man turned and looked at me.
"Just get off work?" He asked, quite innocently.
I nodded. (For reference, my job is not the cleanest of occupations. This day was one where I had been soaked from a broken water pipe and I was covered in mud...on top of that, I was still wearing my hard hat and vest)...I knew at once, this guy was a real sharp one.
"Long day?" He asked.
"Yep," I said. "And it seems to be getting even longer."
Beasty had no idea I was referring to him and laughed heavily. The crumbs resting on his breasts puffed in the air like dandruff. I knew, without looking, mayo or oil or goo would be slather all over his chin and poking out the corners of his mouth...I was right.
"So what do you do?"
I sighed, "I wait in line at stores for a living." What do I do? I am covered in mud and soaked...what kind of question is that?
As I moved ahead in line and finally got to the counter, he had asked if I was married, what city I lived in, and several other "how's the weather" type questions.
In a moment of timing military sharp-shooters lust for, a surplus (it seemed like half a head) of lettuce fell from his dining area and onto my boot...just as I stepped to the counter. I said nothing, only looked down at the handful.
"Oops!" He laughed and explained how much he hated the amount of lettuce Subway put on their sandwiches. (did he not realize you can say "hey, easy on the lettuce" to the sandwich maker guy?)
Oops? What is "oops?" It is something you say to a person you bump or after you fart in public...not when you are a slob and drop lettuce on someone...oops...please.
By this time, I had had enough.
I turned to him and was...rude.
I said, "Do you know me? Are we friends?"
Beast Man was taken aback. "No, I don't think so."
"I didn't think so either, because only my friends can spill lettuce on my shoe and think it is funny. I don't know you. I don't want to ever know you. I just want to pay my bill. Is that okay with you?"
The clerk at the counter smiled (I could tell he was very glad someone said something, because he either lacked the skill or courage to say it himself). I turned away from Beast Man and gave the clerk my phone number. As I was doing so, Big Boy gathered the parts of his dismembered sandwich and left...not bothering to pick the lettuce off my boot.
My point in telling this story is....
At some point we all do stupid and annoying shit. Sometimes we go overboard and it bugs the hell out others. It is only when someone is rude...blunt...do we begin to realize how awful our actions or non-actions are. We realize how foolish we were.
In reality, we should thank rude people. If it wasn't for them...we would end up just like Beast Man. When our mother chided us on how rude is was to talk with a mouth full of food or chew with your mouth closed....was she rude...or right?
As comfortable as he was, chomping away and passing the time with strangers, it was clearly not the first time he had done this...but I bet he won't do it again.
I did Beast Man a favor and if you ever come into a place and see me sitting at a counter eating my supper...please, be rude to me too.

Getting your hands dirty

2009-04-25T09:46:00.013-06:00

"I wash my hands of this."
What does that mean?
Generally, I suppose, it means getting rid of some situation or removing ourselves from an environment we no longer want to look back on.
How realistic is that, really?
It's sort of sociopathic if you ask me. We just turn off all emotion to the subject in hand ( nice pun, huh?). We make a conscious choice to no longer empathize with a person or a cause. That, or it is a way we justify not taking action or expending further thought on a matter we find too troublesome or too taxing. We want to think we are good people. So, in order to assure ourselves of such, we say we "wash" all of the troubles away. We can remind ourselves (others) how hard we really did try...how much of a burden it was for us to even offer our help or input to begin with. The "dirt" on our hands changes into a monument of our efforts and one made for all to see.
After we wash, we end up looking pretty good in the end...even pious. Nice move.
We can then say, "Nope, I quit," or "This is too tough," or "This has gotten boring," without actually verbalizing it.
Think about it, though. Is that how descent people act? If there is a wrong committed or an untruth being pronounced (in word or action), shouldn't we continue to do something? Shouldn't we continue to try? Untruth equates (in most cases) to injustice. By its nature, Injustice is always wrong and should always be confronted.
What if the civil rights leaders (black and white) said, "Boy, this whole equality thing is just too tough a road to travel."
How different would the world be now?
What if America washed our collective hands and said, "That Hitler guy is going to put up quite a fight. Let him do whatever he wants in Europe, we'll deal with him later."
It's unthinkable.

The truth gets frustrating at times, either because people don't want to hear it or they think the cost will be to high.
This is what I say...if you are going to wash your hands of a situation anyway, why not put a little more dirt on them before you go to scrub? Why not make sure there really is dirt on them?
If a mechanic works on a car, his hands get dirty. He may stop to go wash his hands, but he doesn't just leave the car there to fix itself. At some point (if he is a good mechanic) he goes back to it. He gets his hands dirty again...and again...until it is working properly.
We should look at Injustice the same way he does the car...keep going until it is righted.
Americans are washing their hands of each other. We are becoming more and more galvanized (polarized) to ideas, yet at the same time, losing empathy for our brothers. We are saying it is too tough to envision what another is thinking or refusing to even try to understand. Resentment is not only brewing, it is boiling over.
Many think we should find a way to "all get along."
While the idea may seem noble, it is absurd.
It doesn't seem humans were made for such a fate. We were created for confrontation in some form or another. We were designed to disagree...hence Free Will.
But...
What we can do, is keep getting our hands dirty, continue to interact with others, continue to fight Injustice (however we see it). In the process and through exchanges, we will all be fighting for Truth no matter how we approach it.

Okay, really now...Glenn Beck has gone too far.

2009-04-18T16:56:00.016-06:00

I'm having a little deja vu.
I know I have seen this before...tears...cameras...a hand brushing under the eyes to wipe away those same invisible tears...millions of people watching...
WAIT! I know what it is!
If I am not mistaken, I remember the entire conservative base (I was part of them at the time) going into convulsive fits when Bill Clinton cried in front of a camera at Ron Brown's funeral...oh, the outrage! Everyone knew it was done for sake of media coverage. Looking back I don't know if it was that big of a deal. But for sake of argument, let's say it was evil...the sign of a sociopath in the office (a claim Rush has made)...that will be our starting point.
Let's jump 13 years into the future.
I see Glenn Beck...crying, nearly weeping.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rM4xqnukQrM
Was that Days of Our Lives?
Anyone looking for a fifth of Melodrama? The bar is open!
Good Lord...he either needs to be taken ASIDE and given a hug, or dragged OUTSIDE and have his ass kicked.
There is no honest person on the planet who can say Beck's tears and quivering voice were genuine.
Forgive me, I will offer a little "strawman argument" for minute but it is one I have heard often. Many people shrug off his tears and say, "Oh, that's just Glenn. He loves theatrics."
So, that makes it okay?
If Bill Clinton was so wrong for forcing tears at the funeral of one man, then what is Glenn Beck? Beck forced tears for the nation's worst terrorist attack...the world's worst....in the ENTIRE OF MODERN HISTORY!!!!!
Hey, but it is on FOXNEWS, right? They are "Fair and Balanced." I want someone...ANYONE...to show me how it is possible to "Balance" what Beck did. How could there be? The only way ( I see) for there to be some sort of balance, is for FOX to have some Saudi national on cheering about how glad he was the attacks worked...and even then I don't know if that would be balanced.
Here is the thing. I understand Glenn Beck is not a reporter giving the news. I understand he is purely a commentator. But still...please! Even he knew he was going over the top. that is why he said he was looking like a televangelist. He had to cover up somehow.
While Glenn Beck is not reporting the news, many conservatives BELIEVE he is. His view of the nation is one of a crumbling and failing empire. He says FEMA concentration camps are being constructed and soon the 2nd Amendment will be scratched over like some mistake on a term paper.
I'm sorry, I have more faith in the American people than he does, I suppose. This is the nation which fought two wars on different sides of the planet...and WON!!! This is a nation that not only saw the end of slavery (through war), saw civil rights struggles for all men and women no matter what color their skin, then elected a black man for President. "We the People" will make through this turmoil.

But back to Bill Clinton for second. What Clinton did was wrong, but it was done for nothing more than to gain a little coverage from the media by showing how empathetic he was. It was a form of soft-marketing. Every President, Senator, and Mayor has done something similar at one time or another. It just looked terrible because he was the President and got caught so openly with it.
With Beck, it was not soft-marketing. It was pure marketing. It was a way for him to show how in touch he was with the American people, the "regular guys like you," as he calls us. (How condescending is that remark? Clearly, he isn't a regular guy...by making such a statement he points that out.)
My problem is not how he portrays his "emotions," but why he is. He has started a new website. The invisible tears slithering down his cheek were the first hits on his site.
Didn't Beck also scorn the followers of Barack Obama for acting like he was a savior? What does Beck do? As though he were Moses strolling down from a long chat with God, he presents 9 founding principles and 12 ETERNAL values as though they were the new commandments. Eternal? Only a god can make things eternal...is Beck our new savior? Should we look to him in our hour of need? Will Glenn Beck be our guide, our pillar of fire in this darkness?
I abhor him. While his clownish antics used to mildly entertain me, now they disgust me.
Glenn Beck has used to deaths of thousand of "regular guys" to bolster his ratings and widen his grasp on the market.
Make no mistake about it. His sorrow-stricken act was done for attention...ratings...and money...nothing more.
It had ZERO to do with the poor souls who lost their lives on 9-11.
How pathetic and vile is that? Even Shep Smith made fun of him!
Glenn Beck is a disgrace...an infected pustule on soles of America's feet.
I think I shall now go vomit.

Laws required to be followed by those who choose to speak.

2009-04-13T16:47:00.016-06:00

On heels of my last post and maybe as an addendum of sorts to my brother's post (http://irish-salsa.blogspot.com/2009/04/english-butchery-102.html), I have created a list of new laws (and the required punishments) which Americans must follow in order to speak or communicate to another person (via computer, text, or yet to be designed technological devices).

Law:
No person will be allowed to use a flat or unqualified hyperbolic expression in reference, but not limited, to any event, person, or thing.
Punishment:
The punishment will be reflective of the crime.
For instance:
If a person says, "That is the greatest show ever!" they shall be banned from watching anything other than that particular show for the remainder of their natural life.

If a person says, "That is the best song ever!" they will only be allowed to listen to that song for the rest of their life.

Since this criminal has found the greatest show or movie or song, there is no point to them listening to anything else, NOTHING will ever be better.

Law:
No one (unless they are 14 yrs old or younger) shall use abbreviations similar, but not limited, to "LOL," "OMG," "WTF," or "B4."
Punishment:
Such person will be sentenced to 6 continuous hours of listening to a phone ring for each letter missing from the actual expression.

Law:
No person shall offer or pretend to have an opinion on a topic (any topic) if they follow it or precede it with "Hannity says," or "Rush believes," or "Oprah thinks."
Punishment:
Such a person will be sentenced to watching the testing color bars on a television set, with tone, until they are hearing the Voice of God.

Law:
No individual shall ever force another to listen to them sing.
Punishment:
The person committing such a crime shall be beaten with a club of the victim's choosing (even clubbed by the victim if they so choose), allowed to nearly heal, then beaten again.

Law:
No person will ever ask, "So, what's good here?" when going to a restaurant.
Punishment:
The criminal will be forced to eat from the establishment's dumpster until the empolyee's (victim) shift has ended.

Law:

No person will use the expression "You know" or "I mean" more than twice every ten minutes.
Punishment:
The victim (or person who hears such remarks) is allowed to smite the criminal.

Law:
No person will ever be allowed to ask, "Who is this?" when they call another human.
Punishment:
The criminal must call 14 pages worth of people from the phone book, ask for the person BY NAME, and explain what they did/ apologize for being such a dolt. Until the required amount of people have been called, the criminal will only be able to communicate to others in person, by mail (real mail), or through two tin cans and a string of yarn.

If a person doesn't know who they called, they don't even deserve fingers.

Law:
An individual is only allowed to call a wrong number twice.
Punishment:
The criminal shall be flogged in the nearest mall.

Law:
A person shall never utter the specific non-word: "ir-regardless"
Punishment:
Loss of tongue.
If the word is written...loss of finger tips.

Law:
No human will ever ask a question they already know the answer to, request an explanation for something they do not care about, or ask for advice if they have no intentions of listening to it.
Punishment:
The criminal becomes a servant of the victim and is forced to do the victim's bidding for 3 years.

Law:
A person shall never say they "gave it their all."
Punishment:
Since clearly the criminal did not give it their all (since they are still alive), they will be drained of ALL their bodily fluids.

They shall be totally dehydrated like a fruit for astronauts.

LAW (the most important):
No one will ever ask another person to repeat a question or statement they already heard.
Example:
VICTIM: "So, where did you and your wife go to eat last night?"
CRIMINAL: "What?"
VICTIM: "I said, ' where did you--.'"
CRIMINAL: "Oh, we went to Red Lobster."
Clearly, the criminal heard the question yet made the victim ask it again.
PUNISHMENT:
The criminal shall forfeit the right to communicate with another human for the remainder of his/her natural life.
In addition, to ensure this is done, the criminal will be marooned on an island and forced to listen to "It's a Small World" until they are dead.

Just a few ideas...take 'em or leave 'em.

Call me a traitor...I don't care.

2009-04-12T08:12:00.007-06:00

I may say something which will really piss some people off ( go figure, right?), but I don't care.

First off, I must say, I love my country and the ideals it was founded upon. More specifically, I love the Constitution. Anyone who knows me, knows this.
However, I am also a skeptic.
I need to take issue with a couple things.
One, the idea of calling every, or nearly every, person who has served in the military a "hero." It seems to me people say such things to make themselves feel better, yet at the same time almost challenge others to do the same. It is a passive form of waving a flag or pledging allegiance. It silently shouts "Hey, I'm a good person! I back the military! I'm a REAL American! Go team!"
It is nothing more than laziness. People who say all soldiers are heroes render the word meaningless. They degrade the true heroes.
A hero is defined: "A person noted for feats of courage or nobility of purpose" among other things.
Does everyone who severs in the military fit this?
The answer is a resounding "No!"
Joining the military makes a man no more a hero than putting an idiotic and Chinese-made "Power of Pride" bumper sticker on your car makes you a patriot. Power of Pride....what the hell does that mean anyway?
So why say it?
I think it is some new psychosis people (at least in America) have developed. It is a compulsion to modify or describe EVERYTHING (yes, that was on purpose) with the use of hyperbole. I call it Hyperbolism, or Hyperbolia....

For people who may not know, a "hyperbole" is an extremely exaggerated expression...such as, "I would rather die than listen to him sing." Really? You would rather die?
That is hyperbole.

Due to a lacking vocabulary or laziness (maybe both) people project their emotions in extremes to make a point. They vomit words at another person, not realizing or understanding the true idea behind what they said.
"That was the greatest movie EVER!"
This is what they do when they call ALL soldiers heroes. Soldiers can be valiant. Soldiers can be steadfast. They can be any number of complimentary and positive descriptions....however, they are not ALL heroes.
Ah, what is the harm, right? You know what I mean.
There is great harm. It not only harms the meaning of words, it depletes them...drains them of value. When a fantastic event or person comes around, they are left in the same category with lessers.
The way bacteria become resistant to antibiotics, mankind becomes resistant to words and their importance.

My second issue:
Here is a quick story. A man walks outside and sees a group of young men shoot his dog. He is outrage (and justly so). He shouts at the men who then run to their car and take off. The man grabs two guns, jumps in his truck, and follows the men. He chases them across four counties waving his firearms and finally runs them off the road. He holds them at gunpoint until the police arrive.

Now, most reasonable people would say this man went over the edge a tad bit (hyperbole). Actually, most sane people would say he went way too far, nearly deranged. Yes, his "best friend" was killed and he should be angry. And yes, the men who did it should be punished. Being a dog-lover myself and having had someone kill one of my dogs, I understand his pain. However, pursuing the men over the countryside with his weapons in hand (how many innocent people did he endanger with his high speed chase?) and running them off the road....too far.
Was he willing to get into a shoot-out four counties away from his home over a dog? Talk about extreme!
Hunting down dog-killers is not his job.
That is job of the police.
These men were not the James Gang. They killed a dog. While the act is horrible, it was just a dog.
Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut, if you name is Marcus Luttrell and you were a Navy SEAL, it's just fine.
It seems Hyperbolia is manifesting itself. It's acceptable to say things which are sooooooooo extreme and now, even the actions of our "heroes" which are sooooooooo extreme, are fine too.
Hyperbolia.

Remembering Kansas

2009-02-12T18:35:00.015-07:00

I think I am turning into an old lady.

I can come up with no other reason, because I have become this sentimental glob of goo.

My high school days were some of the best times and filled with some of the most memorable people.
However, when I think back to my youth (I am 35...I can say "youth" now, can't I? How old does a person have to be before they can say that with a straigh face?), I am not drawn to the dances with future ex-girlfriends (and future ex-wife) or plays I held minor roles in. I don't recall (at least instantly) the pen fights in the hall or the way we all felt so old and mature when we became seniors.

My mind, at first, goes back to Kansas.

It is the place I call "Home."

With the help of Facebook, I have had the great honor of finding some very dear friends I had when I lived in Topeka.
I have been able to chat (sometimes for hours) with people who I thought were gone from my life forever. While I can see the new and grown up faces of the people I went to school with, I lose sight of them and become a child again. In my mind, they do too.

I am no longer talking to the Heather Denman, it is Heather Koster...the girl I would spend hours on the phone with, talking about the most obscure and irrelevant of things (which were sooooooo very important back then). I can almost see, in her typing, the curved and bubble script she used to write notes to me in.

I am shooting the shit with Matt, my bench-warming buddy. He is the young boy who was my friend, my pal, many years away from becoming the good man he is now or the loving father of two beautiful little girls.

I picture Misty as the curious yet stubborn girl, not the nurse, I used to joke around with and who also wrote me when I lived in Florida. Although younger than me, we became very close.

I see Mr. V...sitting at the front of the class, humming the tune to the hymn we would sing. He wanted to make sure we got it just right. I hear the stern way he called to us from the sidelines of the soccer field (I was a starter in Soccer, thank you very much.), only doing so to make sure we did our best...knowing we could do better. He was such a good man and I fear, mourn, that I only gave him grief.

I only mention these four, because I have had the most contact with them. I do not leave anyone out because i am over-looking them or do not value having them as friends. I am so amazingly greatful for all of them.

I say all of this to make a point.
I think we often forget the years before high school. High school is where we see the sproutings of the adults we will become, but those seeds are planted much further back. As any gardener knows, it takes just the right environment for a flowers and plants of all types to grow.

I was given that environment in Topeka Lutheran School. It was the perfect micro-ecosystem. I would not change a thing.

Although, they may never read this (which is fine), I needed to thank all of my friends for remembering me and still wanting to talk. It means more than you will ever know. The greatest fear I have, maybe the only, is that I will be forgotten.

I am sure some of my childhood friends are gone for good.
Such is life.
It changes nothing.
Thank you, to all of you.
"May God bless you and keep you and may His face shine upon you...and give you peace."

It is just something I had to say...

Uncle Sam, what do you really think of me?

2008-11-15T08:24:00.000-07:00

I am soooooooooooo very tired of hearing, "Well, the company was just too big to fail."
Huh?
What does that mean?
Somebody help me with this, because the more I hear it, the less and less sense it makes. If there are companies which are too big to fail, then clearly the government believes there are far more who are small enough to flop. That they want to flop?
Hey, who cares about the guy starting up a lawn service or the woman who makes pottery from home to sell! They don't matter as much as "these people" on Wall St. or who have inhumane towers in large cities across the country. The Tower People are the people who count.
So, i take it the government is now picking which companies are the best for my money? Should I not have some say in whether the company I am financing is big enough to "support?"
When AIG went south and turned belly up like some dead fish, the President said "Whoa! We have to save them boys! I need to talk to my Money Man!" So, off to the dead fish doctor (the US taxpayer) he went, got a script (relax, Rush...) for billions of dollars, and pumped the medicine (money) into Flipper...who is now splashing away with my cash. Just don't get caught in some tuna net, now!
Nice save, W!
But wait...he started looking around and saw the ocean was filling up with dead fish...Fannie May, Freddie Mac, Wakovia, and we can't forget about GM, Ford, and Chrysler. Oh! That's right... American Express (anyone else see the irony in AMEX not being able to pay their bills? Next time anyone gets a statement from them they should send them a copy of their tax return and say this should be good enough for awhile).
I guess America is no longer a Capitalistic nation.
Because if we were, we would remember two big things.

ONE, Capitalism only works in a moral environment. That is to say, the playing field must be even for ALL who participate in it...no matter how small or big they are.

TWO, as a direct result of number one, failure is not only a risk facing those entering this fair and even market, by some...it is REQUIRED! Wait as second...let me try that again in case it passed you by... IT IS REQUIRED!!!!!!!! It is not the government's place to say who makes it and who does not. People decide it...People both in the company (by how they run the thing) and outside of it (whether the product/service offered by the company is worth buying). Both are needed for success and in equal parts. I don't see where Uncle Sam has much to do with any of that?

There, it has been said.

I have seen or heard or read no one else who says the same, but it is true. In order for there to be success, failure is required. People must fail so others can grow. How else can you measure the strength of a business unless you see others failing?
"But what about the workers! Their pentions!"
What about them??
If they are lost, then they are lost.
People forget investments are not promises. They are wishful thinkings and gambles a company or product will move ahead. Nothing more.
People with pentions gambled the money they put into their own company would be worth more than if they were to place it in a bank or hide in a box inside a bathroom wall. They are also betting their company will be around long enough for them to collect the cash.
There's this funny this I learned about betting when I was about 10 years old...you don't always get it right. I am the only person who learned that lesson?

But more than anything, I think the government has insulted me.
They have said, "John, you suck and we want to make sure you know you suck. You are going to send money to a company to you have never used a service of, may never use the services of, and, because you suck, you will have no say at all in the matter. AND, if we want, we may come back to you for more money in the future. Oh, by the way, you suck, in case you forgot."
That's the message I got.
Blah, blah, blah, John, you suck, blah, blah, blah, you suck.
If I worked for AIG, they would have been on their knees looking up at me with those "I want to make you happy eyes"and licking their lips.
But, I don't work for AIG. I am only John...and I suck (there is a pun in there).

Someday people will look back at this and realize how bad an idea it was to try and save all the dying fish, but maybe by then it will be too late the sea itself will have dried up.
So, Flipper, swim! Swim as fast as you can!

P.S. Yes, I know Flipper was a dolphin and not a fish.

Honesty Does NOT Pay...by GregK

2008-11-11T20:14:00.000-07:00

I was recently forwarded a story about a contractor in Ohio that found $182,000 in depression-era currency hidden in the walls of a house that he was contracted to remodel. He notified the slumlord owner of the property of his find and, yep, you guessed it, she thanked him for finding HER money in the walls of HER house!! She magnanimously offered him 10% as a reward for his honesty, but it turned out that his honesty was, in his opinion, worth more like 40%. Their dispute became public and, long stupid story short, the heirs of the guy that originally put the money in the wall made a claim on the money, the courts got involved, yada, yada, yada.....the contractor ended up holding the bag.....pretty much an empty one!!

So here's my question(s).....
What motivates someone to be this painfully honest? Has this moron not lived long enough to learn that honesty DOES NOT pay? Was his 15 minutes of fame worth more than the $182,000? Was his picture in the Cleveland Plain Dealer worth losing a once-in-a-lifetime find? Is this even dumber than not knowing that Africa is a fucking continent? Am I only one that sees the stupidity in his actions? Am I just jaded?

The questions that pop into my head are endless when I read something this inane. Does that say something about me or am I not alone in my bewilderment?? Is he waiting for his reward in the afterlife or did he just not think it through? Does God even have $182,000 or do you think his interests have been hit by the recent global recession?

Just sooooo darn cute!!!

2008-11-08T04:49:00.000-07:00

I have done some mind reading and found the cities Sarah Palin is sure are the capitals of the world's countries...
The capital of...
Africa...Africa City
Asia...China
Europe...Europa
Australia...it doesn't really have one because people only go there for vacations
South America...Miami
North America...the White House
Antarctica...the South Pole

In some ways it is so sad to see a mental giant like Sarah head back to Alaska. It is just "Sarah," isn't it? After all, that is how she wanted us to address her. The hocky mom...the pitbull with lipstick....that is always a nice thought.
"Hey, Billy? Where's your mom??
"Over there...see the woman who looks like a pitbull with lipstick...that's her."
To be honest, though, pitbull or no, lipstick or no, I am not sure I ever wanted a "mother" for a President. I don't mean it in the female sense of the word, because I have no issue at all with a woman as President. I am talking about a mothering, hugging, pat me on my ass and give me a twinkie when I get a "B-" on a test type President. I want someone who will say we can do better. I want someone who says we can always try harder, look deeper, move ahead, and yet come together at the same time.
In order for progress and change (yes, change, I am so sick of the "what does 'change' mean" chatter...would you rather things be as they are?) to occur, it means people may have to be uncomfortable for awhile. Maybe they have to see things, people, or the world differently. In the end, however, the clarity will be worth discomfort.
But, back to Sarah...
Where will all of our fun come from now? I worry for America, in that we may have a flood of logic and reason. America may loose her sense of humor. Jesters like Palin are not only desired, they are needed for us to keep balance.
I mean, really, when was the last time you heard a politician use the word "clobbered," let alone four times in three sentences?
Just think if Reagan had told the Soviets...."Tear down this wall or I will clobber you!"
Hey, he could have ended the cold war then and there...you never know!
Tony Blair, the elegant speaker that he is, I'm sure he used the word "clobbered" several times when speaking before Parliment.
I think Osama used it in his last video taped message..."...And the Muslims will clobber the Americans..."
Clobbered.
What in the hell is clobbered? Is Freudian slip/hint at a caveman-like mind set? Clobbered.
Clobbered.
I'll tell you who got clobbered...nevermind, we all know.
I think the last person I heard use that word (other than Sarah Palin) was Lucy warning Charlie Brown...but, you speak what you read...
Yes, I will miss that fine gal...that lipstick slathered pitbull with glasses.
I was starting to think she had a crush on me with all the winking and tilting of her head. I know she was doing it just for me and it wasn't part of some siren-like song to win over the world. That is something an anti-christ would do and since she was "blessed" by a witch-hunter, we know she couldn't be line with the Devil.
I want to see more of those ruby slippers and $50,000 suits by the woman who is just a regular mom, sick of Washington spending our money.
And the stories of her coming to the door in a towel? ooooo ooooo oooooo, I'd much rather her come to the door naked than George W!
And who could blame her for thinking Sarkozy was really on the phone with her? I'm sure Sarkozy really sings to other politicians, explains how hot his wife is in bed, "loves to take the life of the animals," knows the PM of Quebec (whenever they become a country and get one), and really liked the "documentary, Nalin Palin," because it was so "edgy."
You know what? Maybe we won't miss her...there is enough shit on her to last for/four years! Lord knows she too stupid to not run in 2012.
But...maybe by then she can tell us who the President of Africa is.

Popping my Cherry...

2008-11-07T19:14:00.000-07:00

So, here I am..
This is the first blog I have ever done and I have no idea if I will ever do another. I have to say I love the sound of my own voice and, equally, I love the imaginary voice I use to read what I have written.
I am so vain at times.
I like to think I am clever. I like to make people laugh, however, I hate comedies. It is not that I don't like to laugh...I just don't like funny movies.
Enough is enough for a first try...I can see why people like this.