(Why do I get the idea I'm gonna piss someone off???)
I've been talking evolution lately, now that it looks like a foregone conclusion that Vicky and I will be having kids one day ("Another La Salle?! Run for your lives!!!") and I'll have to deal with the uneducated educators our system propagates like pod people. I've spoken to Vicky about this… and Rich… and Sean. "Look," I've said, "if they start teaching my kid creationism or intelligent design or God's Holy Writ or whatever they want to call it, instead of SCIENCE - you know, EVOLUTION - I'm going to be raising some serious shit."
As I said to Tim, "It might not help but, at least, I'll be able to make someone else's life miserable."
After all, why should Vicky get all the fun?
It's a travesty and an absolute embarrassment that, in the country where the Scope's trial was won by thinking people long before mountains of evidence supporting evolutionary theory had been acquired, we must tolerate ignorance and superstition. Wasn't one of the primary principals that this country was founded upon "Protection of the minority again the tyranny of the many"? (Yes. It was.)
Well, now (he said, getting to the link) a school district in Georgia feels it has to cover its butt before teaching science to its kids, lest logic-hating morons raise a stink…. You know, cause who would want SCIENCE taught to their kid. IT ain't one of the three R's - Religiosity, Racial Intolerance, and 'Rithmatic - is it? So, the school district of Cobb County (you know, like corn on the cobb - CREATED BY GOD!) now feels they need to put stickers on their science textbooks, reading "This textbook contains material on evolution. Evolution is a theory, not a fact, regarding the origin of living things. This material should be approached carefully, and critically considered."
Some have actually asked what harm is there is giving our children a choice. (Tell that to a woman who wants an abortion!) I'll tell you where the harm lies. The harm lies in glorifying superstition over science. The harm lies in letting your ignorance cloud your judgment. The harm lies in allowing some stupid mother fucker who couldn't get better than a D in high school but finds acceptance in his god-fearing, non-white-hating, homosexual-beating, poor-starving Republican fucking party to dictate how educated my child is allowed to be, nay required to be. Just because you're comfy with the national I.Q. slipping like the value of the dollar, Georgie-boy, doesn't mean everyone else is!
Well, not to be outdone some rather witty (that extra intelligence is good for something) and topical folk have created a variety of other stickers for you to post, wear, or hurt ignorant people with, which is a fairly simple task - Just make them read. Enjoy. My favorite? "This book discusses evolution. President George W. Bush said, On the issue of evolution, the verdict is still out on how God created the Earth." And, remember, science is to superstition as fact is to fiction. If you don't get that, wake the fuck up.
Tuesday, November 30, 2004
With imprisonment and torture for all...
This will probably come as no surprise to any of my readers:
The International Committee of the Red Cross has charged in confidential reports to the United States government that the American military has intentionally used psychological and sometimes physical coercion "tantamount to torture" on prisoners at Guantánamo Bay, Cuba.
The finding that the handling of prisoners detained and interrogated at Guantánamo amounted to torture came after a visit by a Red Cross inspection team that spent most of last June in Guantánamo.
Be sure to take time out today to spit on anyone you know who voted for (burning) Bush.
The International Committee of the Red Cross has charged in confidential reports to the United States government that the American military has intentionally used psychological and sometimes physical coercion "tantamount to torture" on prisoners at Guantánamo Bay, Cuba.
The finding that the handling of prisoners detained and interrogated at Guantánamo amounted to torture came after a visit by a Red Cross inspection team that spent most of last June in Guantánamo.
Be sure to take time out today to spit on anyone you know who voted for (burning) Bush.
Fatty McFatFat...
"I'm married now. I can gain as much weight as I want."
I remember thinking this, back in 1988, when Rosa and I were first married.
Times change. People change. Hairstyles change… and interest rates fluctuate.
This morning, I practically needed a winch to get into my pants, my obese form fighting against any attempt to be clothed. I've put on 15 pounds since June, when Vicky and I first got together.
Well, fuck that. Get thee to a gym, young man!
I've been dealing with a great deal of stress and uncertainty of late but one thing is certain. I'm disgusting. It's time for me to get back to work or I'm never doing another show and I'll forever fill the frames of my wedding pictures with Vicky.
No thanks.
I'll keep you posted.
I remember thinking this, back in 1988, when Rosa and I were first married.
Times change. People change. Hairstyles change… and interest rates fluctuate.
This morning, I practically needed a winch to get into my pants, my obese form fighting against any attempt to be clothed. I've put on 15 pounds since June, when Vicky and I first got together.
Well, fuck that. Get thee to a gym, young man!
I've been dealing with a great deal of stress and uncertainty of late but one thing is certain. I'm disgusting. It's time for me to get back to work or I'm never doing another show and I'll forever fill the frames of my wedding pictures with Vicky.
No thanks.
I'll keep you posted.
Monday, November 29, 2004
Who are my readers, anyway?...
Sounds like it's time for a quiz or two!!!
Which famous philosopher do you most agree with? (Looks like it pegged my Kant-ian philosophy.)
Try the Belief-O-Matic! (Wow! It pegged me as a Unitarian Universalist at 100%. Theravada Buddhism comes in at only 88%!)
Be sure to put your results in the Comments section!
Which famous philosopher do you most agree with? (Looks like it pegged my Kant-ian philosophy.)
Try the Belief-O-Matic! (Wow! It pegged me as a Unitarian Universalist at 100%. Theravada Buddhism comes in at only 88%!)
Be sure to put your results in the Comments section!
You really can buy anything at Target...
Target keeps diversifying to keep up with the market and what a market they're into! Gotta remember to go to Target after work!
Thanksgiving without the adventure…
After two years with Thanksgiving "Adventures" - and a lifetime of strangeness to precede - it is with mixed feelings that I tell about a Thanksgiving that was nearly downright NORMAL!
Mixed feelings? Why? Well, let me tell you. There's something extremely satisfying about having a "perfect moment", a moment that (for a moment) seems to clarify everything, bring everything into relief. (Right about now, I'm in need of relief!) Last year, I had it crashing a funeral. The year before that it happened when I tried to commit suicide. (These recent ones seem to be surrounded by death. Go figure.) Normality, with its slow, easy lack of neurosis-inspiring events, is far less dramatic than that moment of clarity, when the answers explode before you.
I guess you could say I got used to it. This is not to say I cannot get used to this new way of life. In fact, this new way of life is really fun.
Thanksgiving started for me very early… too early, in fact. I awoke much earlier than I needed to and sat around playing video games for a while. But the morning came quickly and Vicky and I were both getting ready shortly. We got up early because we were heading out to Lancaster, which is a bit of a drive from Garden Grove. (About 99 miles, if you'd like to know.)
Before heading out that way, though, we stopped by the Claim Jumper catering offices. We were picking up a complete Thanksgiving dinner to bring along with us. The reasoning was that, with Vicky's mom owning her own restaurant and cooking 364 days a year, we didn't want her mom to have to cook on her day off. The dinner came in two enormous boxes, one hot and one cold, and a platter of biscuits that I had a hard time not reaching into - it all looked very good! I wish I could remember the entire menu (or find the website) but will you believe me when I tell you it was thorough (very large!) without bringing up memories of Thanksgiving leftovers just yet? Thank you.
Once on the road, I popped in Ken 3.7. Vicky had yet to hear it and we had agreed to listen to it that day, with 3.8 to follow on the way home. For those of you who don't remember, Ken 3.7 was one of last year's Holiday CDs and it covered: the Happy Landings monologue, a fast food bit, totaling my car, the emotional trauma of losing my car, the first Thanksgiving Adventure, and endless moaning about Rosa. It went on and on and on. Crap. I sat there, mentally begging my recorded voice to shut the hell up about how I'd never love another and how I would always love Rosa, knowing how false that turned out, and tried not to show too much self-loathing, just hoping Vicky would get some of the jokes. Of course, she didn't. She didn't so much as crack a smile. She might love me but she definitely wouldn't pay to see me at the Improv.
Once in Lancaster, we dropped off the food at the restaurant. Vicky's mom was already in there… cooking! Cooking! What about the whole "save her from cooking" idea? That was shot to hell.
We had plenty of time before we ate - which sucked because we hadn't had breakfast and my stomach was singing "Feed Me Seymour" - so we took off (to get away from the food) and went somewhere less likely to make us hungry. We went to visit her grandmother in the convalescent hospital. I'd only met this woman once before. It was the day when I was going to ask Vicky to marry me and she had taken my hand and said, "I want you to know we approve of you." So, I already had a soft spot for her. This time, I don't know what happened to me, perhaps it was because my emotional walls had already been broken down by weeks of escrow and thoughts of taking Rosa to court, but I was totally connected with this old woman. We found her in the hall outside her room in a wheelchair and I wheeled her over to where we could all sit and talk and we did and I noticed her name was Audrey and remembered how Vicky and once said she wanted to name her daughter "Audrey" and thought about how it was also my mom's name, and my sister's, and thought "That might not be too bad" and thought "Oh, my god. We might just have a name for our daughter" and thought "Our daughter? Our daughter?" and thought "WE'RE GONNA HAVE A BABY!" and then spent the rest of the time there convincing myself not to cry.
I've been going through a lot, emotionally. I'm a bit raw.
Now, Vicky isn't pregnant, for those of you wondering, and won't be for a while. But the idea that I've been able to find someone to love and who I want to marry and with whom I want to have kids, when only a year ago I was sure it would never happen, is devastating to any emotional decorum I might have. It makes me enormously happy and is probably why I spend so much time looking at Vicky. In fact, I'd poke her to see if she's real but she's not the kind of person who likes to be stared at, let alone poked!
We were back at the restaurant a while later, picking at food as we waited for the real meal to be served, greeting people as they arrived. Her mom and dad were already there. Her mom gave me smiles but, then, I'm very flattering. Her dad, Steve, and I got along very well as always. Her brother came in and - I don't know what Vicky's previous boyfriends were like but Mike (her brother) likes me so I'm guessing (and who cares if I'm proved wrong) he likes me best. Her aunt and uncle, Reyna and John - no, Vicky, you don't have to correct my spelling - and her grandfather (who everyone seems to call "Grandpa" so why should I be any different) were also there. Reyna was very nice. We spoke quite a bit. John did what he always did. "You're still with this one," he asked Vicky over and over about me. Nice guy but I wanna smack him. (She doesn't need any encouragement from you, John!) Then, new faces. (This list is not in order of arrival, by the way. It's a few days late for that.) Her cousin Walter and his wife, Cindy, and their son, Andrew, were there along with family friends, Tom and wife Trudy and kids. So, there were a few people. And all of them were saying, "So, you're the guy. I've heard so much about you. Vicky seems so happy. When's the date?"
I felt important. I felt like I would be missed if I wasn't there. Maybe you'll be surprised by this, and maybe not, but I never felt like that around Rosa's family. I could do this every year. To hell with that, let's make Indian Killing Day a monthly event!
Anyway, back to the food. Things were brought, Vicky's mom (Noriko, if I'm getting the spelling right) cooked, and there was the feast Vicky and I brought. Here's a short list - and, remember, I'm leaving things out:
A 16-18 pound turkey
A big roast
A medium-sized ham (so, I didn't weigh them!)
Corn on the cob
Steamed veggies
Green beans w/almonds
Chunky mashed potatoes
Creamy mashed potatoes
A sliced potato with green beans and cheese and other stuff kinda dish
Two kinds of stuffing
Cranberry/Orange Relish
Rolls
Salad (Oh My God. This spinach salad, from Claim Jumper, was to die for!)
And a couple gravies…
(Vicky's going to tell me everything I forgot… )
And we had about four pies and a cheesecake. And wines and beers.
It was huge. Everybody talked. People laughed. Nobody fought. (And if you knew my family, you'd understand how amazing that is!)
Can I go back in time and be adopted? (According to the Marsha/Greg rule, we could still have sex since we wouldn't be blood relatives. See? You DO learn things from TV!)
After dinner, Noriko (if I'm misspelling her name, I'm really going to get it) went around handing out Cuban cigars. "Do you smoke?" she asked me.
Only when I'm on fire? Nope. Not the time for a line like that.
I took one and "the guys" all went out to smoke them. We tried to light them in the wind, Tom, Walter, Mike, and myself, and passed the time smoking and talking and relighting when the wind blow out our stogies. It was pretty neat.
Except that I found out that I hate Cuban cigars. They're not for men like me. They're made for the same men who drink rotgut for the taste and eat buffalo to prove they're at the top of the food chain, for men who fight cause they like the feel of it, and drive gas-guzzling cars because they can. They're not for men with brains. They taste like crap… but I smoked it anyway. Then, Walter and I smoked a cigarette later. He told me how happy he was for Vicky and I, which was really nice because it came without be asked for, as I asked him about living in Ventura (in a city whose name I couldn't spell if I tried).
Eventually, though, it was over and people trickled out. Soon, the only ones left were Vicky, Mike, Steve, Noriko, and myself. I helped them clean up and then we sat around, wrapping up. Mike talked to his mom about how she shouldn't speed. Vicky talked about how her office was moving. Noriko talked about how she couldn't take the day after Thanksgiving off because, when she did last year, one of her competitors had a really huge day. Steve did dishes - boy, he loves his wife. I just kind of sat back and enjoyed it.
Then, we drove home, listening to Ken 3.8… well, a rough cut of it. I had to fix a couple things once we got home.
And, that was it. No adventure. No perfect moments. Just a nice day - one I will always remember fondly.
Mixed feelings? Why? Well, let me tell you. There's something extremely satisfying about having a "perfect moment", a moment that (for a moment) seems to clarify everything, bring everything into relief. (Right about now, I'm in need of relief!) Last year, I had it crashing a funeral. The year before that it happened when I tried to commit suicide. (These recent ones seem to be surrounded by death. Go figure.) Normality, with its slow, easy lack of neurosis-inspiring events, is far less dramatic than that moment of clarity, when the answers explode before you.
I guess you could say I got used to it. This is not to say I cannot get used to this new way of life. In fact, this new way of life is really fun.
Thanksgiving started for me very early… too early, in fact. I awoke much earlier than I needed to and sat around playing video games for a while. But the morning came quickly and Vicky and I were both getting ready shortly. We got up early because we were heading out to Lancaster, which is a bit of a drive from Garden Grove. (About 99 miles, if you'd like to know.)
Before heading out that way, though, we stopped by the Claim Jumper catering offices. We were picking up a complete Thanksgiving dinner to bring along with us. The reasoning was that, with Vicky's mom owning her own restaurant and cooking 364 days a year, we didn't want her mom to have to cook on her day off. The dinner came in two enormous boxes, one hot and one cold, and a platter of biscuits that I had a hard time not reaching into - it all looked very good! I wish I could remember the entire menu (or find the website) but will you believe me when I tell you it was thorough (very large!) without bringing up memories of Thanksgiving leftovers just yet? Thank you.
Once on the road, I popped in Ken 3.7. Vicky had yet to hear it and we had agreed to listen to it that day, with 3.8 to follow on the way home. For those of you who don't remember, Ken 3.7 was one of last year's Holiday CDs and it covered: the Happy Landings monologue, a fast food bit, totaling my car, the emotional trauma of losing my car, the first Thanksgiving Adventure, and endless moaning about Rosa. It went on and on and on. Crap. I sat there, mentally begging my recorded voice to shut the hell up about how I'd never love another and how I would always love Rosa, knowing how false that turned out, and tried not to show too much self-loathing, just hoping Vicky would get some of the jokes. Of course, she didn't. She didn't so much as crack a smile. She might love me but she definitely wouldn't pay to see me at the Improv.
Once in Lancaster, we dropped off the food at the restaurant. Vicky's mom was already in there… cooking! Cooking! What about the whole "save her from cooking" idea? That was shot to hell.
We had plenty of time before we ate - which sucked because we hadn't had breakfast and my stomach was singing "Feed Me Seymour" - so we took off (to get away from the food) and went somewhere less likely to make us hungry. We went to visit her grandmother in the convalescent hospital. I'd only met this woman once before. It was the day when I was going to ask Vicky to marry me and she had taken my hand and said, "I want you to know we approve of you." So, I already had a soft spot for her. This time, I don't know what happened to me, perhaps it was because my emotional walls had already been broken down by weeks of escrow and thoughts of taking Rosa to court, but I was totally connected with this old woman. We found her in the hall outside her room in a wheelchair and I wheeled her over to where we could all sit and talk and we did and I noticed her name was Audrey and remembered how Vicky and once said she wanted to name her daughter "Audrey" and thought about how it was also my mom's name, and my sister's, and thought "That might not be too bad" and thought "Oh, my god. We might just have a name for our daughter" and thought "Our daughter? Our daughter?" and thought "WE'RE GONNA HAVE A BABY!" and then spent the rest of the time there convincing myself not to cry.
I've been going through a lot, emotionally. I'm a bit raw.
Now, Vicky isn't pregnant, for those of you wondering, and won't be for a while. But the idea that I've been able to find someone to love and who I want to marry and with whom I want to have kids, when only a year ago I was sure it would never happen, is devastating to any emotional decorum I might have. It makes me enormously happy and is probably why I spend so much time looking at Vicky. In fact, I'd poke her to see if she's real but she's not the kind of person who likes to be stared at, let alone poked!
We were back at the restaurant a while later, picking at food as we waited for the real meal to be served, greeting people as they arrived. Her mom and dad were already there. Her mom gave me smiles but, then, I'm very flattering. Her dad, Steve, and I got along very well as always. Her brother came in and - I don't know what Vicky's previous boyfriends were like but Mike (her brother) likes me so I'm guessing (and who cares if I'm proved wrong) he likes me best. Her aunt and uncle, Reyna and John - no, Vicky, you don't have to correct my spelling - and her grandfather (who everyone seems to call "Grandpa" so why should I be any different) were also there. Reyna was very nice. We spoke quite a bit. John did what he always did. "You're still with this one," he asked Vicky over and over about me. Nice guy but I wanna smack him. (She doesn't need any encouragement from you, John!) Then, new faces. (This list is not in order of arrival, by the way. It's a few days late for that.) Her cousin Walter and his wife, Cindy, and their son, Andrew, were there along with family friends, Tom and wife Trudy and kids. So, there were a few people. And all of them were saying, "So, you're the guy. I've heard so much about you. Vicky seems so happy. When's the date?"
I felt important. I felt like I would be missed if I wasn't there. Maybe you'll be surprised by this, and maybe not, but I never felt like that around Rosa's family. I could do this every year. To hell with that, let's make Indian Killing Day a monthly event!
Anyway, back to the food. Things were brought, Vicky's mom (Noriko, if I'm getting the spelling right) cooked, and there was the feast Vicky and I brought. Here's a short list - and, remember, I'm leaving things out:
A 16-18 pound turkey
A big roast
A medium-sized ham (so, I didn't weigh them!)
Corn on the cob
Steamed veggies
Green beans w/almonds
Chunky mashed potatoes
Creamy mashed potatoes
A sliced potato with green beans and cheese and other stuff kinda dish
Two kinds of stuffing
Cranberry/Orange Relish
Rolls
Salad (Oh My God. This spinach salad, from Claim Jumper, was to die for!)
And a couple gravies…
(Vicky's going to tell me everything I forgot… )
And we had about four pies and a cheesecake. And wines and beers.
It was huge. Everybody talked. People laughed. Nobody fought. (And if you knew my family, you'd understand how amazing that is!)
Can I go back in time and be adopted? (According to the Marsha/Greg rule, we could still have sex since we wouldn't be blood relatives. See? You DO learn things from TV!)
After dinner, Noriko (if I'm misspelling her name, I'm really going to get it) went around handing out Cuban cigars. "Do you smoke?" she asked me.
Only when I'm on fire? Nope. Not the time for a line like that.
I took one and "the guys" all went out to smoke them. We tried to light them in the wind, Tom, Walter, Mike, and myself, and passed the time smoking and talking and relighting when the wind blow out our stogies. It was pretty neat.
Except that I found out that I hate Cuban cigars. They're not for men like me. They're made for the same men who drink rotgut for the taste and eat buffalo to prove they're at the top of the food chain, for men who fight cause they like the feel of it, and drive gas-guzzling cars because they can. They're not for men with brains. They taste like crap… but I smoked it anyway. Then, Walter and I smoked a cigarette later. He told me how happy he was for Vicky and I, which was really nice because it came without be asked for, as I asked him about living in Ventura (in a city whose name I couldn't spell if I tried).
Eventually, though, it was over and people trickled out. Soon, the only ones left were Vicky, Mike, Steve, Noriko, and myself. I helped them clean up and then we sat around, wrapping up. Mike talked to his mom about how she shouldn't speed. Vicky talked about how her office was moving. Noriko talked about how she couldn't take the day after Thanksgiving off because, when she did last year, one of her competitors had a really huge day. Steve did dishes - boy, he loves his wife. I just kind of sat back and enjoyed it.
Then, we drove home, listening to Ken 3.8… well, a rough cut of it. I had to fix a couple things once we got home.
And, that was it. No adventure. No perfect moments. Just a nice day - one I will always remember fondly.
Wednesday, November 24, 2004
Sell phones...?
Or cell phones?
Either way, I got my first (working) cell phone today. Vicky gave it to me to keep track of me while I sleep around behind her back with her never being the wizer...
Actually, I think it's kind of neat.
That said, what's with all the cell phone explosions?! And why is it I only find out now?!
Either way, I got my first (working) cell phone today. Vicky gave it to me to keep track of me while I sleep around behind her back with her never being the wizer...
Actually, I think it's kind of neat.
That said, what's with all the cell phone explosions?! And why is it I only find out now?!
Eating and Writing...
Oy, what a world! What a world!
Well, we're entering the Thanksgiving holiday, known by the Indians (eg. Native Americans) as "Fuckin' Europeans" Day, known on the continent of Africa as "Can We Have Some" Day, know by the Iraqis as "Flaunt It You Greedy MotherFuckers" Day, and known by the turkeys as "We're Fucked" Day.
But enough with the cussing.
I finished a first master of Ken 3.8 last night. This gives me a chance to listen for and fix any major errors before it goes out the door. Vicky and I will listen to it on the way back from her parent's place on Thursday. Should be interesting.
Parent's place? Yep, we is going to Lancaster for Tumsgiving. You want to hear what Ken's life is like? We're having Claim Jumper catering in an empty Japanese restaurant in the desert. That one sentence tells me that Vicky has been fully indoctrinated into the Ken way of life.
Well, you may be hearing about a new novel from me sometime soon. Then again, you might not. But I'm climbing the walls, having not written anything since the summer, and I'm beginning to think that a chance of venue might be what I need. I've been focusing on a half-finished novel called "Vampire Society". It's a novel I started just before Rosa and I split up and I haven't been able to touch since. It's about a world where consumerism is the prime virtue. In fact, it could be non-fiction. The problem I've had is that there was a split between the characters early in their lives (they meet in high school). But what could be this split? Originally, the device used was the theft of something, but it never rang true. It would need to be something deep and primary to the characters that would cause this split.
Last night, it occurred to me that the perfect device - wait. Let me tell you something. This was supposed to be my third philosophical novel. Okay? It was supposed to be about BIG IDEAS. Got it? If you really follow me, it will probably come as some surprise that only after five years did it occur to me that the perfect device must be: POLITICS.
Once that wall fell, everything started falling into place.
But am I ready for the pain of writing a book? The pain of rejection? The pain of possibly putting another book on the shelf after not getting it published?
Let me put it to you this way. I'm buying a house. That gives me the rest of the year to think about it.
You'll hear more about this in '05.
Well, we're entering the Thanksgiving holiday, known by the Indians (eg. Native Americans) as "Fuckin' Europeans" Day, known on the continent of Africa as "Can We Have Some" Day, know by the Iraqis as "Flaunt It You Greedy MotherFuckers" Day, and known by the turkeys as "We're Fucked" Day.
But enough with the cussing.
I finished a first master of Ken 3.8 last night. This gives me a chance to listen for and fix any major errors before it goes out the door. Vicky and I will listen to it on the way back from her parent's place on Thursday. Should be interesting.
Parent's place? Yep, we is going to Lancaster for Tumsgiving. You want to hear what Ken's life is like? We're having Claim Jumper catering in an empty Japanese restaurant in the desert. That one sentence tells me that Vicky has been fully indoctrinated into the Ken way of life.
Well, you may be hearing about a new novel from me sometime soon. Then again, you might not. But I'm climbing the walls, having not written anything since the summer, and I'm beginning to think that a chance of venue might be what I need. I've been focusing on a half-finished novel called "Vampire Society". It's a novel I started just before Rosa and I split up and I haven't been able to touch since. It's about a world where consumerism is the prime virtue. In fact, it could be non-fiction. The problem I've had is that there was a split between the characters early in their lives (they meet in high school). But what could be this split? Originally, the device used was the theft of something, but it never rang true. It would need to be something deep and primary to the characters that would cause this split.
Last night, it occurred to me that the perfect device - wait. Let me tell you something. This was supposed to be my third philosophical novel. Okay? It was supposed to be about BIG IDEAS. Got it? If you really follow me, it will probably come as some surprise that only after five years did it occur to me that the perfect device must be: POLITICS.
Once that wall fell, everything started falling into place.
But am I ready for the pain of writing a book? The pain of rejection? The pain of possibly putting another book on the shelf after not getting it published?
Let me put it to you this way. I'm buying a house. That gives me the rest of the year to think about it.
You'll hear more about this in '05.
OHIO = OMFG!...
Which is to say, Oh My Fucking God!
The Associated Press is reporting this morning:
A federal judge on Tuesday denied a request by third-party presidential candidates who wanted to force a recount of Ohio ballots even before the official count was finished.
Judge James G. Carr in Toledo ruled that the candidates have a right under Ohio law to a recount, but said it can wait. The judge wrote that he saw no reason to interfere with the final stages of Ohio's electoral process. Officials have said the results will be certified by Dec. 6.
With the Electoral vote directly affected (swayed if not chosen) by the popular, the judges move gives the state to (burning) Bush. I'd be pissed if I were you, folks. This is your government, your country, being stolen from you!
The Associated Press is reporting this morning:
A federal judge on Tuesday denied a request by third-party presidential candidates who wanted to force a recount of Ohio ballots even before the official count was finished.
Judge James G. Carr in Toledo ruled that the candidates have a right under Ohio law to a recount, but said it can wait. The judge wrote that he saw no reason to interfere with the final stages of Ohio's electoral process. Officials have said the results will be certified by Dec. 6.
With the Electoral vote directly affected (swayed if not chosen) by the popular, the judges move gives the state to (burning) Bush. I'd be pissed if I were you, folks. This is your government, your country, being stolen from you!
Tuesday, November 23, 2004
I don't know's on third...
I've told you I work with some real morons, right? Well, this was actually said at work today.
Me. This says Boot Version. What's a Boot Version.
Moron. It's a version of the boot.
Me. What's that?
Moron. It tracks the boot to give it a version.
Me. So, it tells you how many times the product was booted up?
Moron. No.
Me. What then?
Moron. It's an OS.
Me. No, it's not! An OS is an operating system.
Moron. Right. It operates the boot.
Me. The version of the boot operated the boot?
Moron. And gives it the version.
Me. What version?!
Moron. The boot version.
Me. Look. Why would anyone at home want to know what the boot version is?
Moron. In case they want to update the version of their boot, they'll need the boot code for that version to update a different version of the code.
Me. For that version?
Moron. Right!
Me. I don't even know what you're talking about!
Me. This says Boot Version. What's a Boot Version.
Moron. It's a version of the boot.
Me. What's that?
Moron. It tracks the boot to give it a version.
Me. So, it tells you how many times the product was booted up?
Moron. No.
Me. What then?
Moron. It's an OS.
Me. No, it's not! An OS is an operating system.
Moron. Right. It operates the boot.
Me. The version of the boot operated the boot?
Moron. And gives it the version.
Me. What version?!
Moron. The boot version.
Me. Look. Why would anyone at home want to know what the boot version is?
Moron. In case they want to update the version of their boot, they'll need the boot code for that version to update a different version of the code.
Me. For that version?
Moron. Right!
Me. I don't even know what you're talking about!
Monday, November 22, 2004
After Hours…
Move recommendation time!
So, I watched Martin Scorsese's After Hours last night on DVD, a movie I moderately liked when it was in the theaters and purchased only because of some deep-seeded, homosexual attraction for Griffin Dunne (face it, he's cute) [I'll give those of you barfing a second before I continue.], and found it to be a very entertaining movie and more! First off, the acting is really first rate, which says a lot because the story they were working off of looks like it was written off a series of bar napkins. On top of that, this has got to be Scorsese directing at his best. The camera moves with ballet-ic grace, and it's a hyperactive ballerina! For a movie shot over the span of 40 nights (it was all shot "After Hours"), it's surprising how much movement they get in there and how intricate and well-placed that shots are.
But there's more to it than that - and here's why you need to see it. This movie was shot in 1985 and, yet, embodies a "post-9/11" paranoia better than any move I've seen after 9/11! It's a world that has been shit on so much that people are looking over their shoulders! They're wonder when the (burning) Bush will stick them next - and where!
So, go get it. It's cheap! Or rent it. (Don't watch it on TV. You'll miss the tits - so I'm not that gay, after all - and the well-used cussing and it'll be cropped down to pan-and-forget it size.)
Or borrow my copy… you know, if you live close enough.
So, I watched Martin Scorsese's After Hours last night on DVD, a movie I moderately liked when it was in the theaters and purchased only because of some deep-seeded, homosexual attraction for Griffin Dunne (face it, he's cute) [I'll give those of you barfing a second before I continue.], and found it to be a very entertaining movie and more! First off, the acting is really first rate, which says a lot because the story they were working off of looks like it was written off a series of bar napkins. On top of that, this has got to be Scorsese directing at his best. The camera moves with ballet-ic grace, and it's a hyperactive ballerina! For a movie shot over the span of 40 nights (it was all shot "After Hours"), it's surprising how much movement they get in there and how intricate and well-placed that shots are.
But there's more to it than that - and here's why you need to see it. This movie was shot in 1985 and, yet, embodies a "post-9/11" paranoia better than any move I've seen after 9/11! It's a world that has been shit on so much that people are looking over their shoulders! They're wonder when the (burning) Bush will stick them next - and where!
So, go get it. It's cheap! Or rent it. (Don't watch it on TV. You'll miss the tits - so I'm not that gay, after all - and the well-used cussing and it'll be cropped down to pan-and-forget it size.)
Or borrow my copy… you know, if you live close enough.
Things are Great!... Oh, who am I kidding???....
Reporting live from the dumps, here's Ken:
Okay, so things are pretty stressful right now. I getting it from all sides with this house. I'll be glad when we're done or someone kills me. On top of that, things could be a lot better with Vicky.
But wait! There's more!
Looks like I may be suing Rosa. I got an email from her this morning (yes, another email -she's suddenly become Mary Fucking Talkative!), saying (yes, again) that things are really hard for her and she can't pay me back. I'd tell her to blow me but I'm engaged. So, it looks like the only way I'm ever going to get a cent back is to take her to small claims court. And I'm really torn about it. I can't even put it into words - well, I could but then you'd have my eighth book. In short: I loved her. She fucked me. (Repeat that sentence a few dozen more times.) Now, I've got to defend myself and that'll probably fuck her. I feel absolutely rotten about it.
That said, it looks very likely that I'm going to do it.
Now, how much would you pay?
I'm getting ready to finish Ken 3.8. For those of you new to this, it's the follow-up, autobiographical-monologue, CD of my 38th year. It includes: the Speed Racer theme song, crashing a funeral, the Mary Tyler Moore theme song, meeting Vicky, and me as a total ass. It'll go out as a Christmas gift along with two other CDs: Songs I Heard As A Child and Reflections on a Summer's Night. Send me an email if you'd like a copy - odds are, if you're reading this, you're already on the short list.
I told Vicky that these CDs have become just too much work. I've been working on Ken 3.8 for nearly a month! I was kind of hoping it would be the last one. Then, she said, "You have to do one next year! You have to cover the wedding!"
The wedding. Can you imagine me writing an autobiographical-monologue about our wedding?
… and not getting hit for it?
Okay, so things are pretty stressful right now. I getting it from all sides with this house. I'll be glad when we're done or someone kills me. On top of that, things could be a lot better with Vicky.
But wait! There's more!
Looks like I may be suing Rosa. I got an email from her this morning (yes, another email -she's suddenly become Mary Fucking Talkative!), saying (yes, again) that things are really hard for her and she can't pay me back. I'd tell her to blow me but I'm engaged. So, it looks like the only way I'm ever going to get a cent back is to take her to small claims court. And I'm really torn about it. I can't even put it into words - well, I could but then you'd have my eighth book. In short: I loved her. She fucked me. (Repeat that sentence a few dozen more times.) Now, I've got to defend myself and that'll probably fuck her. I feel absolutely rotten about it.
That said, it looks very likely that I'm going to do it.
Now, how much would you pay?
I'm getting ready to finish Ken 3.8. For those of you new to this, it's the follow-up, autobiographical-monologue, CD of my 38th year. It includes: the Speed Racer theme song, crashing a funeral, the Mary Tyler Moore theme song, meeting Vicky, and me as a total ass. It'll go out as a Christmas gift along with two other CDs: Songs I Heard As A Child and Reflections on a Summer's Night. Send me an email if you'd like a copy - odds are, if you're reading this, you're already on the short list.
I told Vicky that these CDs have become just too much work. I've been working on Ken 3.8 for nearly a month! I was kind of hoping it would be the last one. Then, she said, "You have to do one next year! You have to cover the wedding!"
The wedding. Can you imagine me writing an autobiographical-monologue about our wedding?
… and not getting hit for it?
Friday, November 19, 2004
Speaking of Florida...
I know, I know. Nobody was speaking of Florida!
But maybe they should be!
Check this out - and thank Vicky for turning me on to it:
'Stinking Evidence' of Possible Election Fraud Found in Florida
But maybe they should be!
Check this out - and thank Vicky for turning me on to it:
'Stinking Evidence' of Possible Election Fraud Found in Florida
Rosa… Rosa… Rosa…
You know, you think this would be all over. Wouldn't you? I know I would.
… I would. But then, I know something you don't.
Time to talk about it.
First, let me say that Rich was out from Florida this past week. It was great visiting with him. I wish I had a picture of us together; I'd post it for you to see. We spent a lot of time talking about writing. Scratch that. We spent an inordinate amount of time talking about writing, our common bond since the beginning. Most of the time was spent talking about "the book". "The book" is what Rich wants to write with me but he can't seem to get started. (And that was part of our agreement, that he get it started.) "The book" is going to be about two guys who have gone through life like it was a shredder and still keep going. A kind of "self-help book for guys" that says, "You bet it sucks but keep smiling". That's what it's supposed to be about.
He suggested it nearly a year ago and I told him recently that I did not want to write about Rosa after I'm married to Vicky. For that matter, I don't much want to write about Rosa now.
As you know, I loaned her $10,000 nearly two years ago. She agreed to pay me back, with interest, within six months.
She still hasn't paid me back.
So, a few weeks ago, I sent her an email. I told her that I didn't care about the interest. I didn't care about how much time had passed. I told her I didn't want a relationship, I didn't want to talk, all I want is my money. Give me my money, bitch!
She replied almost immediately, giving me her life's sad story, and said she'd pay me some of the money back next month.
This morning, I got another email from her. In it, she said that she assumed I never received her first reply. Why did she make that assumption? I can only assume it was because I didn't write her back. Of course, I didn't write her back! What was there to say? She went on to say that times are tough for her (I'll spare you the lies) and that she wouldn't be able to pay me back. That she refuses to pay me back is inescapable. It just took her a few weeks to admit that.
Receiving emails from Rosa naturally makes me question how I feel about her. I did that this morning.
And I came to some rather startling and, it would seem at least, contrary conclusions. I mention they're contrary for those of you who tempted to write me back and say, "Hey, this don't make any sense!" I know. That's just simply how it is.
First and foremost, I can't think about Rosa without feeling sick. That's where I'm at. I deeply regret ever losing her but I would never want her back. I feel terrible about how our marriage ended but I'm really glad it did. I miss her and hope I never see her again. In a way, I pity her… but mostly, I loathe her. I don't hate her. I don't wish her ill. But I hope, for her sake, that I never see her. I don't anticipate that it would be a pleasant encounter. Now, this doesn't mean I'd launch a flurry of blows, attacking her once I saw her. I see it going something like this:
Rosa: Ken! Hi! It's good to see you!
Ken: Get the fuck away from me. (And I'd probably say "bitch" just afterwards.)
She took much more than she gave and I see any suffering she endures simply as payback.
… and now Rich wants to write this book. Oh, that'll be fun.
… I would. But then, I know something you don't.
Time to talk about it.
First, let me say that Rich was out from Florida this past week. It was great visiting with him. I wish I had a picture of us together; I'd post it for you to see. We spent a lot of time talking about writing. Scratch that. We spent an inordinate amount of time talking about writing, our common bond since the beginning. Most of the time was spent talking about "the book". "The book" is what Rich wants to write with me but he can't seem to get started. (And that was part of our agreement, that he get it started.) "The book" is going to be about two guys who have gone through life like it was a shredder and still keep going. A kind of "self-help book for guys" that says, "You bet it sucks but keep smiling". That's what it's supposed to be about.
He suggested it nearly a year ago and I told him recently that I did not want to write about Rosa after I'm married to Vicky. For that matter, I don't much want to write about Rosa now.
As you know, I loaned her $10,000 nearly two years ago. She agreed to pay me back, with interest, within six months.
She still hasn't paid me back.
So, a few weeks ago, I sent her an email. I told her that I didn't care about the interest. I didn't care about how much time had passed. I told her I didn't want a relationship, I didn't want to talk, all I want is my money. Give me my money, bitch!
She replied almost immediately, giving me her life's sad story, and said she'd pay me some of the money back next month.
This morning, I got another email from her. In it, she said that she assumed I never received her first reply. Why did she make that assumption? I can only assume it was because I didn't write her back. Of course, I didn't write her back! What was there to say? She went on to say that times are tough for her (I'll spare you the lies) and that she wouldn't be able to pay me back. That she refuses to pay me back is inescapable. It just took her a few weeks to admit that.
Receiving emails from Rosa naturally makes me question how I feel about her. I did that this morning.
And I came to some rather startling and, it would seem at least, contrary conclusions. I mention they're contrary for those of you who tempted to write me back and say, "Hey, this don't make any sense!" I know. That's just simply how it is.
First and foremost, I can't think about Rosa without feeling sick. That's where I'm at. I deeply regret ever losing her but I would never want her back. I feel terrible about how our marriage ended but I'm really glad it did. I miss her and hope I never see her again. In a way, I pity her… but mostly, I loathe her. I don't hate her. I don't wish her ill. But I hope, for her sake, that I never see her. I don't anticipate that it would be a pleasant encounter. Now, this doesn't mean I'd launch a flurry of blows, attacking her once I saw her. I see it going something like this:
Rosa: Ken! Hi! It's good to see you!
Ken: Get the fuck away from me. (And I'd probably say "bitch" just afterwards.)
She took much more than she gave and I see any suffering she endures simply as payback.
… and now Rich wants to write this book. Oh, that'll be fun.
Thursday, November 18, 2004
Everyone Immolate!...
Call it the cynic in me but today I read that they press is calling that poor man who felt he had no choice but to SET HIMSELF ON FIRE IN FRONT OF THE WHITE HOUSE the "White House Immolater".
Okay, let's be clear. He did NOT immolate the White House... they just call him that.
Besides the bastardization of the language - if you want to call it that - it amazes me that nobody sees the bigger picture here. It's amazing to me that nobody has yet said, "Holy shit! We have people setting themselves on fire! Just like in Vietnam! This must mean something!"
No. Better to approach it with zippy catch-phrases like the "White House Immolater".
What's next? The Mass Suicide of Bagdhad?
... not to say that Bagdhad will commit mass suicide...
Okay, let's be clear. He did NOT immolate the White House... they just call him that.
Besides the bastardization of the language - if you want to call it that - it amazes me that nobody sees the bigger picture here. It's amazing to me that nobody has yet said, "Holy shit! We have people setting themselves on fire! Just like in Vietnam! This must mean something!"
No. Better to approach it with zippy catch-phrases like the "White House Immolater".
What's next? The Mass Suicide of Bagdhad?
... not to say that Bagdhad will commit mass suicide...
It's a "Good News/Bad News" kind of thing...
The army is estimating over 1,100 Iraqi dead in Fallujah.
But, back home in DC, (burning) Bush pardoned - not one but - TWO turkeys!
...
UPDATE: OH MY GOD! I WAS WRONG!
Turns out the estimated number of dead could go MUCH higher!
And, to top that off, the mother-fucker killed one of the birds!
But, back home in DC, (burning) Bush pardoned - not one but - TWO turkeys!
...
UPDATE: OH MY GOD! I WAS WRONG!
Turns out the estimated number of dead could go MUCH higher!
And, to top that off, the mother-fucker killed one of the birds!
Questions…. Answers… and Stupid Purchases…
Here's a question for you:
How do you teach your children about the power of words?
I've known people who won't allow their children to say the words "hate" or "stupid". They treat them like swear words, which they also won't allow their children to say. Now, I can see the reason behind this. They are both very powerful and often poorly used words - and I'm sure there are more. But I'm not quite comfortable with the idea of restricting my kid's speech. I mean, after all, they are going to use any words you tell them not to use. In fact, they're probably more fucking likely to use them, dammit. That said, though, they still need to be taught what is appropriate and what using those words - any words - means.
So, what do you do? How do you teach your children about the power of words?
(I'm looking forward to hearing Vicky's take on this one…)
…
Just so you know:
If you decide one day that the cause of all the problems on the earth is humanity (and, if you've blamed another species, I'd really like to know which one… and why!), and decide, therefore, that the only solution is to kill all humans… it's probably best not to start with yourself… you know, from a purely practical standpoint.
…
Gather round friends! Gather round! I'm here to talk to you, my dear friends - and that person I don't know out there - about Stupid Purchases!
Okay, now, you've all been giving Vicky and I a pretty hard time about our cookware and cutlery purchase.
… wait a minute. Actually, it's only been the Tims. You guys cut that out! I'll smack you!
Where was I?
Oh, right. Cookware and Cutlery. Well, in hindsight, it was probably an extravagance but, give me a break, who among us hasn't spent a little extra money on ourselves and our significant snug-bunny on occasion. (As a matter of fact, yes, I did use "snugg-bunny" just to make you sick.) We got so many extras with it, I'm not worried about having been ripped off. Did we need it? Could we have lived without it? No and Yes - but so the fuck what, right? You'll thank me when I make you dinner.
(Mind you, Tim Murphy's up in Oregon thinking, "He can't cook for me at this distance!"… and he's probably right.)
Now, you want to hear about a really stupid purchase?
As some of you may know, I've gone Ebay crazy lately, and I've been buying games for my X-Box on the CHEAP.
Well, about five minutes ago (from the time I'm writing this) (smartass), I won an auction for the dumbest thing I've probably ever bought. Yep, it's "Intellivision Lives" for the X-Box! I'm going to play Intellivision games on my X-Box - talk about cognitive dissonance!
Well, what can I tell you? I was feeling nostalgic and I got is for $8 (plus $4 for shipping and handling) (though I wish they'd stop handling my goods…). Back in high school, my friends and I would get together and play Intellivision… when we were supposed to be in school. (And YES, that is a damned long time ago!) What can I tell you - I couldn't help myself…
Now, it's YOUR turn! Share your STUPIDEST PURCHASE! Enter a comment. Send an email. We're all friends here… and we want to laugh at you!
How do you teach your children about the power of words?
I've known people who won't allow their children to say the words "hate" or "stupid". They treat them like swear words, which they also won't allow their children to say. Now, I can see the reason behind this. They are both very powerful and often poorly used words - and I'm sure there are more. But I'm not quite comfortable with the idea of restricting my kid's speech. I mean, after all, they are going to use any words you tell them not to use. In fact, they're probably more fucking likely to use them, dammit. That said, though, they still need to be taught what is appropriate and what using those words - any words - means.
So, what do you do? How do you teach your children about the power of words?
(I'm looking forward to hearing Vicky's take on this one…)
…
Just so you know:
If you decide one day that the cause of all the problems on the earth is humanity (and, if you've blamed another species, I'd really like to know which one… and why!), and decide, therefore, that the only solution is to kill all humans… it's probably best not to start with yourself… you know, from a purely practical standpoint.
…
Gather round friends! Gather round! I'm here to talk to you, my dear friends - and that person I don't know out there - about Stupid Purchases!
Okay, now, you've all been giving Vicky and I a pretty hard time about our cookware and cutlery purchase.
… wait a minute. Actually, it's only been the Tims. You guys cut that out! I'll smack you!
Where was I?
Oh, right. Cookware and Cutlery. Well, in hindsight, it was probably an extravagance but, give me a break, who among us hasn't spent a little extra money on ourselves and our significant snug-bunny on occasion. (As a matter of fact, yes, I did use "snugg-bunny" just to make you sick.) We got so many extras with it, I'm not worried about having been ripped off. Did we need it? Could we have lived without it? No and Yes - but so the fuck what, right? You'll thank me when I make you dinner.
(Mind you, Tim Murphy's up in Oregon thinking, "He can't cook for me at this distance!"… and he's probably right.)
Now, you want to hear about a really stupid purchase?
As some of you may know, I've gone Ebay crazy lately, and I've been buying games for my X-Box on the CHEAP.
Well, about five minutes ago (from the time I'm writing this) (smartass), I won an auction for the dumbest thing I've probably ever bought. Yep, it's "Intellivision Lives" for the X-Box! I'm going to play Intellivision games on my X-Box - talk about cognitive dissonance!
Well, what can I tell you? I was feeling nostalgic and I got is for $8 (plus $4 for shipping and handling) (though I wish they'd stop handling my goods…). Back in high school, my friends and I would get together and play Intellivision… when we were supposed to be in school. (And YES, that is a damned long time ago!) What can I tell you - I couldn't help myself…
Now, it's YOUR turn! Share your STUPIDEST PURCHASE! Enter a comment. Send an email. We're all friends here… and we want to laugh at you!
Wednesday, November 17, 2004
Homework...
Here's an interesting sociological experiment: Start carrying a Bible around wherever you go. Make sure everyone can see it. Don't bother reading it or following what it says - just carry it.
How differently will people begin to treat you? How many new friends do you suddenly have?
What the hell does this say about our fucked up society?
How differently will people begin to treat you? How many new friends do you suddenly have?
What the hell does this say about our fucked up society?
Red menace redo…
Considering all the recent saber rattling on our part, it should come as no surprise that Russia is deploying a new nuclear weapons system. Hey, they don't want Kiev being the next Fallujah!
It seems about the right time to write something that's been on my mind of late, and that is "War Against Nouns". It's not a new concept, for those of you thinking of the "War on Terror". It goes back more than 50 years. Anyone remember the "War Against Communism"? Some people called it "The Cold War", and that brought us to invade Korea, Vietnam - and, hey, let's not forget Grenada! It lasted more than half a century, absorbed most of our nation's resources as well as thousands of it's lives and was "won" when the USSR was sick of it. It wasn't won because of a decisive blow or because of a great invasion or even because of anyone's statesmanship. It was won because the USSR wanted cars and tvs and bread. We outspent them. It was the war of the credit card.
Now, look at where we are: at war with another noun. Does anyone think for an instant that it won't take as long? That it won't cost as much? That it won't kill as constantly? And does anyone think it will be any more worth it than the previous one? After all, what did the last war on a noun win us? What did we gain? Are we any safer as a result?
Before you answer, reread the first paragraph.
It seems about the right time to write something that's been on my mind of late, and that is "War Against Nouns". It's not a new concept, for those of you thinking of the "War on Terror". It goes back more than 50 years. Anyone remember the "War Against Communism"? Some people called it "The Cold War", and that brought us to invade Korea, Vietnam - and, hey, let's not forget Grenada! It lasted more than half a century, absorbed most of our nation's resources as well as thousands of it's lives and was "won" when the USSR was sick of it. It wasn't won because of a decisive blow or because of a great invasion or even because of anyone's statesmanship. It was won because the USSR wanted cars and tvs and bread. We outspent them. It was the war of the credit card.
Now, look at where we are: at war with another noun. Does anyone think for an instant that it won't take as long? That it won't cost as much? That it won't kill as constantly? And does anyone think it will be any more worth it than the previous one? After all, what did the last war on a noun win us? What did we gain? Are we any safer as a result?
Before you answer, reread the first paragraph.
And they're the party of VALUES?...
WASHINGTON (AP) — Moving to protect Majority Leader Tom DeLay, House Republicans want to change party rules to ensure that DeLay retains his post if a Texas grand jury indicts him as it did with three of his political associates.
The House Republican Conference, composed of all GOP members in the chamber, was to vote Wednesday to modify a requirement that would force DeLay to step aside if charged with a felony requiring at least a two-year prison term.
Party rules require leaders to relinquish their posts after a felony indictment, but the change would eliminate the requirement for non-federal indictments.
The House Republican Conference, composed of all GOP members in the chamber, was to vote Wednesday to modify a requirement that would force DeLay to step aside if charged with a felony requiring at least a two-year prison term.
Party rules require leaders to relinquish their posts after a felony indictment, but the change would eliminate the requirement for non-federal indictments.
Did someone say "Recount"?...
Well, you can thank the Green Party for this one. (And and the Libertarians too... a little.) Turns out there will be a recount in the state of Ohio. With so many discrepancies and so much of the math just WRONG, it seems only right that there should be one.
Don't get me wrong. I don't think this will do a bit of good. I think the Republican Election Machine is in place and working well. Not only do I not see a fair recount occur, I'll even bet anyone who's willing that (burning) Bush gets even MORE votes as a result! Does that mean more people voted for him? Of course, not!
This only serves to solidify my rage towards all Republicans out there. The only ones I've met are either Goose-Steppers (jingoists), Cross-Burners (intolerant), and Child-Starvers (greedy). Once upon a time, there were Republicans who believed in fiscal responsibility but who in the face of the largest deficit in this country's history can possibly claim they voted Pub with such beliefs? Now, more than ever, the Republican party is nothing more than a gang of thugs, sick an evil, and should never be tolerated.
Don't get me wrong. I don't think this will do a bit of good. I think the Republican Election Machine is in place and working well. Not only do I not see a fair recount occur, I'll even bet anyone who's willing that (burning) Bush gets even MORE votes as a result! Does that mean more people voted for him? Of course, not!
This only serves to solidify my rage towards all Republicans out there. The only ones I've met are either Goose-Steppers (jingoists), Cross-Burners (intolerant), and Child-Starvers (greedy). Once upon a time, there were Republicans who believed in fiscal responsibility but who in the face of the largest deficit in this country's history can possibly claim they voted Pub with such beliefs? Now, more than ever, the Republican party is nothing more than a gang of thugs, sick an evil, and should never be tolerated.
Tuesday, November 16, 2004
Playwright…
Something really interesting just happened.
Sarah, a woman here at work who can best be described as "fucking nut job" because, after all, she did vote for (burning) Bush, came up to me in the breakroom and said, "Ken, when are you going to write another play? I want to see another one of your plays!"
You see, she saw my last two plays.
I was impressed by the reminder that I am not just the guy who's been screwed (over and over and - for the love of lube - OVER) by his employer. I am not just Vicky's hubby-to-be (shooby-dooby). I am not just the ordinary things I think of myself: fat, for instance… though I am… dammit.
I am also a writer who, though I've met with limited success, has actual fans, people who are waiting to see what I have to say next.
Wow!
… but then, she is Republican.
Sarah, a woman here at work who can best be described as "fucking nut job" because, after all, she did vote for (burning) Bush, came up to me in the breakroom and said, "Ken, when are you going to write another play? I want to see another one of your plays!"
You see, she saw my last two plays.
I was impressed by the reminder that I am not just the guy who's been screwed (over and over and - for the love of lube - OVER) by his employer. I am not just Vicky's hubby-to-be (shooby-dooby). I am not just the ordinary things I think of myself: fat, for instance… though I am… dammit.
I am also a writer who, though I've met with limited success, has actual fans, people who are waiting to see what I have to say next.
Wow!
… but then, she is Republican.
Shrub becomes burning Bush...
Speaking of burning, you hear about the guy who tried to set himself on fire in front of the White House? Officials say that can't imagine why he'd do that...
Oh, let's see... a global war on Islam... could that have anything to do with it?
And then, (burning) Bush - I'm hoping that'll catch on - replaced Powell for Rice. That's like exchanging your dog who barks too much for a rabid wolverine!
What else?
Turns out the odds that (burning) Bush was elected was somewhere in the order of 1 in 250,000,000!!! (Thanks to Bob Harris.)
And then this from the Sunday Times of London:
US accused of "torture flights"
An executive jet is being used by the American intelligence agencies to fly terrorist suspects to countries that routinely use torture in their prisons.
The movements of the Gulfstream 5 leased by agents from the United States defence department and the CIA are detailed in confidential logs obtained by The Sunday Times which cover more than 300 flights.
Countries with poor human rights records to which the Americans have delivered prisoners include Egypt, Syria and Uzbekistan, according to the files. The logs have prompted allegations from critics that the agency is using such regimes to carry out "torture by proxy" — a charge denied by the American government.
And then this from Military.com:
The Pentagon has begun work on its own military Internet, designed for the wars of the future, the New York Times reported Saturday.
The system's goal is to give American commanders and troops a moving picture of all foreign enemies and threats.
Air Force Under Secretary Peter Teets told Congress the "Internet in the sky," would allow "marines in a Humvee, in a faraway land, in the middle of a rainstorm, to open up their laptops, request imagery" from a spy satellite, and "get it downloaded within seconds."
The network has been christened the Global Information Grid by the Pentagon. The first connections for the system were installed six weeks ago, but it could take two decades and hundreds of billions of dollars to build the network and its components, the Times said.
You can fuck "planning for peace", folks.
Oh, let's see... a global war on Islam... could that have anything to do with it?
And then, (burning) Bush - I'm hoping that'll catch on - replaced Powell for Rice. That's like exchanging your dog who barks too much for a rabid wolverine!
What else?
Turns out the odds that (burning) Bush was elected was somewhere in the order of 1 in 250,000,000!!! (Thanks to Bob Harris.)
And then this from the Sunday Times of London:
US accused of "torture flights"
An executive jet is being used by the American intelligence agencies to fly terrorist suspects to countries that routinely use torture in their prisons.
The movements of the Gulfstream 5 leased by agents from the United States defence department and the CIA are detailed in confidential logs obtained by The Sunday Times which cover more than 300 flights.
Countries with poor human rights records to which the Americans have delivered prisoners include Egypt, Syria and Uzbekistan, according to the files. The logs have prompted allegations from critics that the agency is using such regimes to carry out "torture by proxy" — a charge denied by the American government.
And then this from Military.com:
The Pentagon has begun work on its own military Internet, designed for the wars of the future, the New York Times reported Saturday.
The system's goal is to give American commanders and troops a moving picture of all foreign enemies and threats.
Air Force Under Secretary Peter Teets told Congress the "Internet in the sky," would allow "marines in a Humvee, in a faraway land, in the middle of a rainstorm, to open up their laptops, request imagery" from a spy satellite, and "get it downloaded within seconds."
The network has been christened the Global Information Grid by the Pentagon. The first connections for the system were installed six weeks ago, but it could take two decades and hundreds of billions of dollars to build the network and its components, the Times said.
You can fuck "planning for peace", folks.
Meet the new Ken…….. Same as the old Ken……..
Had the most wonderful weekend, you'll be happy to know.
… which was capped off with nightmares… of course…
Rich Lind came into town last week and, though arranging out schedules was tough (he was in town, after all, because his dad was in the hospital), we were able to meet up Friday night at Claim Jumper. What a way to start the weekend! I was giddy, as well as a bit nervous (we hadn't seen each other in well over a decade), as the evening approached. Shouldn't have been at all nervous, though. Seeing him was like walking through a time machine. We started joking and drinking (the final bill coming well over $100… and we didn't eat that much) and took it back to my place for more drinks after. Rich liked Vicky and she liked him, too.
Rich is a high school teacher out in Florida and he seems to be more comfortable in his life than just about any of my friends (short of Tim Murphy), sure of the rightness in what he does, comfortable in his own skin. He is, was, and ever shall be NOT ME… not by a long shot. But that's usually how good friends are made.
He still wants to write that book but I told him the longer he waits, the less I remember. And, honestly, I don't want to write about Rosa after Vicky and I are married, which means he's on the clock.
The next night, we got together and went to see what (I'm hoping) will be my new home. As we walked around the neighborhood and went to the park around the block, I felt, for perhaps the first time, completely okay with this purchase. I liked the idea of buying this house, honestly thought it was a good idea. It was more than that, though. I felt okay about, well, everything…. All weekend! I felt a great love for Vicky and a sureness that our marriage was absolutely the right thing to do (coming Sept. 24 to a theater near you!). I was even okay with my writer's block! I guess I have Rich to thank for that… for some reason.
I didn't see Rich on Sunday but Vicky's parents came around bearing gifts - not bad at all! They brought us an exercise bike (no hints there) and an indoor grill for making sukiyaki. (You want us thin or fat or what???) Vicky's mom made sukiyaki for us and we all had lunch together. This is all so much cooler than the last time around!
I went to bed Sunday night feeling great, loved, and…. Yes….. Happy.
…
Woke up Monday morning feeling like shit. Sometime during the night a freight train had snuck in and beaten the snot out of me. Mind you, Vicky had been sick all weekend so I was almost expecting to start exhibiting some signs of her headcold but this was different. Only after a few hours at work did I realize what this was. It was a migraine. Oy!
I went home and, after hanging with Vic for a bit, took a nap.
There, in my sleep, Vicky and I had yet another fight. It was so intense that we broke up and I left the place angry and… hungry. All the scenery had changed… it all looked very, well, midwestern. Over on the other side of the tracks there was a restaurant that sold "Down Home Cookin", so I went there. I didn't get there until after dark (no, I don't know why). I found it was closed and, to top that off, Vicky had followed me. We didn't have any time to talk before we were set up by rabid dogs. A dozen of them! I had no weapons and could only hold them off by shouting and barking in return, telling Vicky, "Step back slowly. Slowly."
And then I woke up.
What the hell was that about?
But my headache was more or less gone and it didn't really come back for the rest of the day.
However, when it came time to go to sleep, I wasn’t tired. I tried sleeping on the sofa - only to watch the numerals on the clock move on and on - and finally fell asleep at 4am (or so).
Before my sleeping eyes, a documentary film began. It was a film about Rosa and here's (more or less, considering how quickly dreams fade) how it went. Rosa and I met up (no, there was no Vicky in the picture) and went on a trip. She explained to Mike's sister (as Mike was gone) that we were just friends. We got this old bus and worked on it and traveled the country together. I noticed I had a beard (which looked damn good, by the way) and we'd take turns driving the bus and sleeping in the bus as we drove through the countryside. Tim Clostio was there, too, and I noticed that he also had a beard (which looked damn good, by the way). We stopped at a motel, Rosa and I taking a room for ourselves and both started getting naked together. Then, Mike's sister started pounding on the door. "I know you're in there!" she shouted. "You're in there with - with him!" Rosa pushed me into the bedroom, telling me to hide. (Keep in mind, I'm watching this as a documentary.) I shut the bedroom door, holding my garments in my hand, and listened to the front door being forced open. "He's in here," Mike's sister screamed. "He's in here and you're a married woman! Have you no shame!" Rosa kept saying I'd stepped out for a minute, I'd been taken by aliens, I'd dissolved - but the other woman wasn't buying that. She burst through the bedroom door, Rosa trying to hold her back, and did the obligatory, "Ah Ha!"
This is when the dream began to get strange.
The documentary froze on the face of Mike's sister looking dour, unpleasant… mannish… pretty much a stereotypical dyke, and a voice-over started to explain things. It explained that Rosa and (essentially) made the same mistake I had. (The "essentially" was classic Rosa as she had only kissed me only because we were caught before we could do more.) She wouldn't get back together with me now, even though the tallies were what you might call balanced - she'd still never do that. The film went on and on and I could slowly feel the waking world insinuate itself in, trying to wake me up. But I didn't want to wake up! I wanted to see if Rosa would go through the pain I went through. If she would experience the horrible guilt. If she would end up on the edge of the Grand Canyon, or at the very least the entrance! Would she have a nervous breakdown, sleepwalk, awake screaming at the top of her lungs…..?
But I was awake. It was 5:20am. I was panting, clutching the sofa… terrified.
Even now, a few hours later, I feel terrible about it. I feel terrible about dreaming about Rosa. I shouldn't be doing that. I questioned writing this because Vicky will read it and what will she think?
Probably what many of you will think… what Rich said so many times this weekend in reference to my ways… "that's just part of your Ken-ness".
… which was capped off with nightmares… of course…
Rich Lind came into town last week and, though arranging out schedules was tough (he was in town, after all, because his dad was in the hospital), we were able to meet up Friday night at Claim Jumper. What a way to start the weekend! I was giddy, as well as a bit nervous (we hadn't seen each other in well over a decade), as the evening approached. Shouldn't have been at all nervous, though. Seeing him was like walking through a time machine. We started joking and drinking (the final bill coming well over $100… and we didn't eat that much) and took it back to my place for more drinks after. Rich liked Vicky and she liked him, too.
Rich is a high school teacher out in Florida and he seems to be more comfortable in his life than just about any of my friends (short of Tim Murphy), sure of the rightness in what he does, comfortable in his own skin. He is, was, and ever shall be NOT ME… not by a long shot. But that's usually how good friends are made.
He still wants to write that book but I told him the longer he waits, the less I remember. And, honestly, I don't want to write about Rosa after Vicky and I are married, which means he's on the clock.
The next night, we got together and went to see what (I'm hoping) will be my new home. As we walked around the neighborhood and went to the park around the block, I felt, for perhaps the first time, completely okay with this purchase. I liked the idea of buying this house, honestly thought it was a good idea. It was more than that, though. I felt okay about, well, everything…. All weekend! I felt a great love for Vicky and a sureness that our marriage was absolutely the right thing to do (coming Sept. 24 to a theater near you!). I was even okay with my writer's block! I guess I have Rich to thank for that… for some reason.
I didn't see Rich on Sunday but Vicky's parents came around bearing gifts - not bad at all! They brought us an exercise bike (no hints there) and an indoor grill for making sukiyaki. (You want us thin or fat or what???) Vicky's mom made sukiyaki for us and we all had lunch together. This is all so much cooler than the last time around!
I went to bed Sunday night feeling great, loved, and…. Yes….. Happy.
…
Woke up Monday morning feeling like shit. Sometime during the night a freight train had snuck in and beaten the snot out of me. Mind you, Vicky had been sick all weekend so I was almost expecting to start exhibiting some signs of her headcold but this was different. Only after a few hours at work did I realize what this was. It was a migraine. Oy!
I went home and, after hanging with Vic for a bit, took a nap.
There, in my sleep, Vicky and I had yet another fight. It was so intense that we broke up and I left the place angry and… hungry. All the scenery had changed… it all looked very, well, midwestern. Over on the other side of the tracks there was a restaurant that sold "Down Home Cookin", so I went there. I didn't get there until after dark (no, I don't know why). I found it was closed and, to top that off, Vicky had followed me. We didn't have any time to talk before we were set up by rabid dogs. A dozen of them! I had no weapons and could only hold them off by shouting and barking in return, telling Vicky, "Step back slowly. Slowly."
And then I woke up.
What the hell was that about?
But my headache was more or less gone and it didn't really come back for the rest of the day.
However, when it came time to go to sleep, I wasn’t tired. I tried sleeping on the sofa - only to watch the numerals on the clock move on and on - and finally fell asleep at 4am (or so).
Before my sleeping eyes, a documentary film began. It was a film about Rosa and here's (more or less, considering how quickly dreams fade) how it went. Rosa and I met up (no, there was no Vicky in the picture) and went on a trip. She explained to Mike's sister (as Mike was gone) that we were just friends. We got this old bus and worked on it and traveled the country together. I noticed I had a beard (which looked damn good, by the way) and we'd take turns driving the bus and sleeping in the bus as we drove through the countryside. Tim Clostio was there, too, and I noticed that he also had a beard (which looked damn good, by the way). We stopped at a motel, Rosa and I taking a room for ourselves and both started getting naked together. Then, Mike's sister started pounding on the door. "I know you're in there!" she shouted. "You're in there with - with him!" Rosa pushed me into the bedroom, telling me to hide. (Keep in mind, I'm watching this as a documentary.) I shut the bedroom door, holding my garments in my hand, and listened to the front door being forced open. "He's in here," Mike's sister screamed. "He's in here and you're a married woman! Have you no shame!" Rosa kept saying I'd stepped out for a minute, I'd been taken by aliens, I'd dissolved - but the other woman wasn't buying that. She burst through the bedroom door, Rosa trying to hold her back, and did the obligatory, "Ah Ha!"
This is when the dream began to get strange.
The documentary froze on the face of Mike's sister looking dour, unpleasant… mannish… pretty much a stereotypical dyke, and a voice-over started to explain things. It explained that Rosa and (essentially) made the same mistake I had. (The "essentially" was classic Rosa as she had only kissed me only because we were caught before we could do more.) She wouldn't get back together with me now, even though the tallies were what you might call balanced - she'd still never do that. The film went on and on and I could slowly feel the waking world insinuate itself in, trying to wake me up. But I didn't want to wake up! I wanted to see if Rosa would go through the pain I went through. If she would experience the horrible guilt. If she would end up on the edge of the Grand Canyon, or at the very least the entrance! Would she have a nervous breakdown, sleepwalk, awake screaming at the top of her lungs…..?
But I was awake. It was 5:20am. I was panting, clutching the sofa… terrified.
Even now, a few hours later, I feel terrible about it. I feel terrible about dreaming about Rosa. I shouldn't be doing that. I questioned writing this because Vicky will read it and what will she think?
Probably what many of you will think… what Rich said so many times this weekend in reference to my ways… "that's just part of your Ken-ness".
Friday, November 12, 2004
For those of you who still consider the facts...
Okay, so by now only the extremely blind... you know, Repugnicans... are going to deny that we have real problems with how our elections are run in this country.
So, why not sign a petition to help clean things up?
Well?
Sign it! Or see the Pugs win by 52% next time!
So, why not sign a petition to help clean things up?
Well?
Sign it! Or see the Pugs win by 52% next time!
Remember, God hates Fags... and would kill them if he could...
Here am I sputtering about negativity while others discuss real issues.
Let me turn you on again to Bob Harris' terrific Blog. Recently he spoke with Kevin Drum, writer for the Washington Monthly, about the recently outbreak of hatred against homosexuals on the part of the so-called "Christian" right:
... Homosexuality is another good one. They cite Leviticus 18:22 ("you shall not lie with a man as one lies with a woman; that is an abomination") and 20:13 ("If a man lies with a male as with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination; they shall surely be put to death. Their blood shall be upon them.")
Sounds clear enough at first. Although note that man-on-man action is what's being explicitly discussed in both passages, so lesbians can remain among God's Chosen. And I say good on that.
But "abomination" explicitly meant breaking the purity rules, which served politically to keep the Israelites separate from the fertility-rite-oriented Canaanites. It's an identity-politics thing from thousands of years ago. (Interestingly, the exact Hebrew in the text is "forbidden," not the word meaning "intrinsically wrong," a distinction which survived into the Greek translation). Which means that lots of other things are in the same batch. Like mixing seeds in your field or wearing clothes made from two types of material (Lev 19:19), cutting your hair or trimming your beard (Lev 19:27), eating shellfish (Lev 11:10) or consulting spiritualists (Lev 20:27). These are all "abominations," forbidden. Not one of them is actually described using the Hebrew word for "intrinsically wrong."
That's why shaving is so rarely a death-penalty offense these days.
So, um... contemporary God-Hates-Fags stuff is unjustified from any serious reading of the text, and has more to do with hate and sexual insecurity.
Otherwise... why aren't these people also protesting synthetic fabrics, GM foods, barber shops, Jon Edward, and Red Lobster?
And that's why there's nothing more amusing than seeing a clean-shaven minister in a polyester suit spouting off about gays and the Bible.
Let me turn you on again to Bob Harris' terrific Blog. Recently he spoke with Kevin Drum, writer for the Washington Monthly, about the recently outbreak of hatred against homosexuals on the part of the so-called "Christian" right:
... Homosexuality is another good one. They cite Leviticus 18:22 ("you shall not lie with a man as one lies with a woman; that is an abomination") and 20:13 ("If a man lies with a male as with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination; they shall surely be put to death. Their blood shall be upon them.")
Sounds clear enough at first. Although note that man-on-man action is what's being explicitly discussed in both passages, so lesbians can remain among God's Chosen. And I say good on that.
But "abomination" explicitly meant breaking the purity rules, which served politically to keep the Israelites separate from the fertility-rite-oriented Canaanites. It's an identity-politics thing from thousands of years ago. (Interestingly, the exact Hebrew in the text is "forbidden," not the word meaning "intrinsically wrong," a distinction which survived into the Greek translation). Which means that lots of other things are in the same batch. Like mixing seeds in your field or wearing clothes made from two types of material (Lev 19:19), cutting your hair or trimming your beard (Lev 19:27), eating shellfish (Lev 11:10) or consulting spiritualists (Lev 20:27). These are all "abominations," forbidden. Not one of them is actually described using the Hebrew word for "intrinsically wrong."
That's why shaving is so rarely a death-penalty offense these days.
So, um... contemporary God-Hates-Fags stuff is unjustified from any serious reading of the text, and has more to do with hate and sexual insecurity.
Otherwise... why aren't these people also protesting synthetic fabrics, GM foods, barber shops, Jon Edward, and Red Lobster?
And that's why there's nothing more amusing than seeing a clean-shaven minister in a polyester suit spouting off about gays and the Bible.
On writing... and why it's such a bitch...
Still can't seem to get to any writing... this really sucks.
Progress on Ken 3.8 is slow going. I spent last night making notes on sound effects - basically window dressing.
For the first time in years, I find myself in a place where my life is pretty nice - and my art sucks. This'll take some adjustment.
Tobias Wolff once said, "All I need is a window not to write.” How true.
Progress on Ken 3.8 is slow going. I spent last night making notes on sound effects - basically window dressing.
For the first time in years, I find myself in a place where my life is pretty nice - and my art sucks. This'll take some adjustment.
Tobias Wolff once said, "All I need is a window not to write.” How true.
A word or two about Negativity...
But first, a few words on ice cream:
Ooooooooh… ice cream…
Had a couple interesting dreams last night and here are a couple of quotes from them:
"Don't make me angry. I wouldn't like you when I'm angry."
"Know myself? Do I know myself? Why, I know myself so well, I finish my own sentences!"
These dreams were interrupted by two things. The first time I was interrupted, I was awoken violently. Why was I awoken violently? Because Vicky, turning over, whipped around and hit me in the mouth with her elbow!... It hurt. The second time, the alarm went off. It went off very loudly and I opened my eyes, wondering when Vicky would turn it off - the alarm being on her side of the bed. Vicky woke up, too. Looking at me… wondering when I'd turn off the alarm. That lasted for several minutes. "Are you going to get up," she asked. "I was just wondering when you'd turn off the alarm," I answered.
Now, I've been rather surprised at the number of comments on the My Side about negativity. It would seem that most readers of this Blog tend to think I'm negative. It would also seem that some of them would prefer to remain anonymous… fearing my vengeful wrath, I guess. Look. If you're going to make a comment, the least you could do is sign your name to a comment. If you can't do that, the least you could do is use a name that hints at your real identity.
Tim Murphy signs his as "Fred Mertz"… cause he looks like Fred Mertz.
Tim Clostio signs his as "reporter66"… cause he'll work as a reporter again when he's 66.
Vicky signs hers as "PrincessVicky"… which means I'm in an awful lot of trouble.
Now, I'm not talking about the anonymous guy who said he wasn't me… cause he was obviously Tommy Flunagan. I wanna know who the person was who reads My Side BECAUSE it's so negative. Who's that smartass?
Look, I've gotten through a whole lot in the last four years: the end of my marriage, losing Rosa, a nervous breakdown, a near suicide, overcoming the loss of Rosa, finding someone who I love (yes, that would be Vicky), the mixed emotions I have towards marriage even as I asked Vicky to marry me, and the possibility of losing another home even as I ready myself to buy another one. Through it all, I've dealt with things in a manner both hopeful for future survival and aware of tragic missteps in the past. Some would choose to call that manner negative but I look at things very differently. I call it perseverance. I call it endurance. I call it… an attempt at hope without ignorance.
Vicky says that my "negativity" comes in the form of statements I make, such as "After the things I've done, I don't know if I deserve happiness." She calls this negativity. I call it accountability. In a society where personal accountability is insignificant, where we can kill innocents and torture the survivors, I don't think of this as a bad thing. At my most arrogant, I even consider this setting a good example.
And you call this negativity.
For shame!
…. Now, most My Sides are usually written with tongue - to varying degrees - in cheek… I guess it's up to you to determine to what degree this is the case today...
Ooooooooh… ice cream…
Had a couple interesting dreams last night and here are a couple of quotes from them:
"Don't make me angry. I wouldn't like you when I'm angry."
"Know myself? Do I know myself? Why, I know myself so well, I finish my own sentences!"
These dreams were interrupted by two things. The first time I was interrupted, I was awoken violently. Why was I awoken violently? Because Vicky, turning over, whipped around and hit me in the mouth with her elbow!... It hurt. The second time, the alarm went off. It went off very loudly and I opened my eyes, wondering when Vicky would turn it off - the alarm being on her side of the bed. Vicky woke up, too. Looking at me… wondering when I'd turn off the alarm. That lasted for several minutes. "Are you going to get up," she asked. "I was just wondering when you'd turn off the alarm," I answered.
Now, I've been rather surprised at the number of comments on the My Side about negativity. It would seem that most readers of this Blog tend to think I'm negative. It would also seem that some of them would prefer to remain anonymous… fearing my vengeful wrath, I guess. Look. If you're going to make a comment, the least you could do is sign your name to a comment. If you can't do that, the least you could do is use a name that hints at your real identity.
Tim Murphy signs his as "Fred Mertz"… cause he looks like Fred Mertz.
Tim Clostio signs his as "reporter66"… cause he'll work as a reporter again when he's 66.
Vicky signs hers as "PrincessVicky"… which means I'm in an awful lot of trouble.
Now, I'm not talking about the anonymous guy who said he wasn't me… cause he was obviously Tommy Flunagan. I wanna know who the person was who reads My Side BECAUSE it's so negative. Who's that smartass?
Look, I've gotten through a whole lot in the last four years: the end of my marriage, losing Rosa, a nervous breakdown, a near suicide, overcoming the loss of Rosa, finding someone who I love (yes, that would be Vicky), the mixed emotions I have towards marriage even as I asked Vicky to marry me, and the possibility of losing another home even as I ready myself to buy another one. Through it all, I've dealt with things in a manner both hopeful for future survival and aware of tragic missteps in the past. Some would choose to call that manner negative but I look at things very differently. I call it perseverance. I call it endurance. I call it… an attempt at hope without ignorance.
Vicky says that my "negativity" comes in the form of statements I make, such as "After the things I've done, I don't know if I deserve happiness." She calls this negativity. I call it accountability. In a society where personal accountability is insignificant, where we can kill innocents and torture the survivors, I don't think of this as a bad thing. At my most arrogant, I even consider this setting a good example.
And you call this negativity.
For shame!
…. Now, most My Sides are usually written with tongue - to varying degrees - in cheek… I guess it's up to you to determine to what degree this is the case today...
Thursday, November 11, 2004
Land of the free...
Well, sure... Land of the Free MINUS TWO MILLION PEOPLE!
... not to sound negative...
... I'm sure they all voted for Shrub.
... not to sound negative...
... I'm sure they all voted for Shrub.
Welcome, Alberto Gonzalez...
You thought Ashcroft was bad... you ain't seen nothing! Welcome ex-Enron attorney (evil enough for ya?), Mr. Gonzalez!
Taken from The Nation:
The President has known for more than two years that his Administration has been pursuing policies that could qualify as war crimes under federal and international law.
In a January 25, 2002, memo, White House Counsel Alberto Gonzales advised the President of "the threat of domestic criminal prosecution under the War Crimes Act," a federal statute. He advised Bush to invent a legal technicality--declaring detainees in the "war on terror" to be outside the Geneva Conventions--which, he said, "substantially reduces" the chance of prosecution. Gonzales went further, telling the President that the war on terrorism "renders obsolete Geneva's strict limitations on questioning of enemy prisoners"; he pooh-poohed concerns that abandoning the Geneva standards might endanger US troops.
Let's be clear about what this means: Gonzales was urging--and the President adopted as policy--an end run around federal laws. The War Crimes Act, passed by Congress in 1996, allows criminal prosecution of Americans for actions that violate the rights granted prisoners and civilians by the Geneva Conventions and for "outrages upon personal dignity." It is backed by the full range of federal penalties, up to and including the death penalty. And all treaties, including the Geneva Conventions and the Torture Convention, are likewise the binding law of the land.
From the Gonzales memo, it is clear that the Administration always envisioned taking coercive interrogation beyond Afghanistan. Gonzales repeatedly refers to the broader "war on terrorism"--the phrase Bush uses to cover the war on Iraq. Gonzales specifically advises the President to hold open "options for future conflicts." Thus the scandal is not what George W. Bush referred to as the "failures of character" of a few soldiers at Abu Ghraib. The scandal is that the White House wanted to torture prisoners and get away with it.
But, wait. There's more. From MSN.com:
Gonzales then laid out startlingly broad arguments that anticipated any objections to the conduct of U.S. soldiers or CIA interrogators in the future. "As you have said, the war against terrorism is a new kind of war," Gonzales wrote to Bush. "The nature of the new war places a high premium on other factors, such as the ability to quickly obtain information from captured terrorists and their sponsors in order to avoid further atrocities against American civilians." Gonzales concluded in stark terms: "In my judgment, this new paradigm renders obsolete Geneva's strict limitations on questioning of enemy prisoners and renders quaint some of its provisions."
Taken from The Nation:
The President has known for more than two years that his Administration has been pursuing policies that could qualify as war crimes under federal and international law.
In a January 25, 2002, memo, White House Counsel Alberto Gonzales advised the President of "the threat of domestic criminal prosecution under the War Crimes Act," a federal statute. He advised Bush to invent a legal technicality--declaring detainees in the "war on terror" to be outside the Geneva Conventions--which, he said, "substantially reduces" the chance of prosecution. Gonzales went further, telling the President that the war on terrorism "renders obsolete Geneva's strict limitations on questioning of enemy prisoners"; he pooh-poohed concerns that abandoning the Geneva standards might endanger US troops.
Let's be clear about what this means: Gonzales was urging--and the President adopted as policy--an end run around federal laws. The War Crimes Act, passed by Congress in 1996, allows criminal prosecution of Americans for actions that violate the rights granted prisoners and civilians by the Geneva Conventions and for "outrages upon personal dignity." It is backed by the full range of federal penalties, up to and including the death penalty. And all treaties, including the Geneva Conventions and the Torture Convention, are likewise the binding law of the land.
From the Gonzales memo, it is clear that the Administration always envisioned taking coercive interrogation beyond Afghanistan. Gonzales repeatedly refers to the broader "war on terrorism"--the phrase Bush uses to cover the war on Iraq. Gonzales specifically advises the President to hold open "options for future conflicts." Thus the scandal is not what George W. Bush referred to as the "failures of character" of a few soldiers at Abu Ghraib. The scandal is that the White House wanted to torture prisoners and get away with it.
But, wait. There's more. From MSN.com:
Gonzales then laid out startlingly broad arguments that anticipated any objections to the conduct of U.S. soldiers or CIA interrogators in the future. "As you have said, the war against terrorism is a new kind of war," Gonzales wrote to Bush. "The nature of the new war places a high premium on other factors, such as the ability to quickly obtain information from captured terrorists and their sponsors in order to avoid further atrocities against American civilians." Gonzales concluded in stark terms: "In my judgment, this new paradigm renders obsolete Geneva's strict limitations on questioning of enemy prisoners and renders quaint some of its provisions."
Accentuate the positive…
This is the "Positive or Negative?" My Side.
But first, an observation. Vicky and I seem to be slipping into a more comfortable zone, getting used to living with each other. We really seem to be getting a feel for what the other person does and how they do it. It only took a couple of months and we're more used to each other in this new place… and now we'll be moving again! Let's hope the adjustment to the new place isn't as difficult!
Last night, we were driving out to see the new place. (I've been bugging her to see it again so we drove around and saw the park that is within walking distance of our place. It's so cool!) We're on the freeway and Vicky made some negative comment. I said, "I don't know what to say, Vic. You sure are negative at times." She said, "Ha. Look who's talking!"
Moi? Negative?
"Yes," she said. "You."
So, I figured this would be a good time to use the power of the Blog and see what you, the reader - yes, you - think. Add a comment to this entry (no, not that running commentary on the side you guys have become so fond of!) and cast your vote. On a scale of 1-5, tell me how positive or negative you think I am. A vote of 1 would be "Bergman"*, while a 5 would mean something like "a right, jolly elf".
* Mind you, Bergman wasn't really that negative at all. Many of his films are very life-affirming… so there!
But first, an observation. Vicky and I seem to be slipping into a more comfortable zone, getting used to living with each other. We really seem to be getting a feel for what the other person does and how they do it. It only took a couple of months and we're more used to each other in this new place… and now we'll be moving again! Let's hope the adjustment to the new place isn't as difficult!
Last night, we were driving out to see the new place. (I've been bugging her to see it again so we drove around and saw the park that is within walking distance of our place. It's so cool!) We're on the freeway and Vicky made some negative comment. I said, "I don't know what to say, Vic. You sure are negative at times." She said, "Ha. Look who's talking!"
Moi? Negative?
"Yes," she said. "You."
So, I figured this would be a good time to use the power of the Blog and see what you, the reader - yes, you - think. Add a comment to this entry (no, not that running commentary on the side you guys have become so fond of!) and cast your vote. On a scale of 1-5, tell me how positive or negative you think I am. A vote of 1 would be "Bergman"*, while a 5 would mean something like "a right, jolly elf".
* Mind you, Bergman wasn't really that negative at all. Many of his films are very life-affirming… so there!
Wednesday, November 10, 2004
Could be stupid… could be less stupid…
Now that I think about it, that could be us. "Stupid" and "Not as Stupid" - you decide who's what.
Vicky and I went to one of those "special" "opportunities" "for couples only" "engaged couples" "lucky couples" "yes, you" "you know you wanna" "it won't hurt" "much" "you pathetic little consumer" "we'll swallow your soul" "KISS THE ETERNAL NOSE-HOLE OF MICHAEL JACKSON!!!!" and went, of course, because we were offered free things.
FREE THINGS!
… I make myself sick.
So, long story short… honest… it was a sales presentation for Royal Prestige and we ended up buying their cookware and their cutlery. (Bottom line: I know cutlery and theirs is pretty good and, from what I know about cookware, theirs doesn't suck, either.)
It cost us a couple thousand dollars.
You may now release the Ken La Salle killing virus… anybody?
Well, we did get a five day vacation package and some other free shit. Okay, that was nice.
But let me take you back to the beginning of the presentation for a minute, okay? Vicky and I walked in, her saying, "I just want the free stuff", and me saying, "It's all a scam, you know?" We were hardened cynics. We were good.
Couple hours later, we were drooling consumers.
Fuck.
No, I don't think we were taken. (Hey, it's about time I got some good pots and pans - Rosa having taken my last set - and I'd lived without good knives for long enough - Rosa, of course, having taken my last set…. What a bitch.) All told, we got out without being too badly butt-loved. Still, I can't believe how quickly our resolved was turned into jello pudding (Insert signature Bill Cosby line here.) and fed back to us.
The end.
Oh, wait. One more thing. An aside. After this past weekend's trip and last night, there's no denying anymore that Vicky and I are a couple. Sure, we fight to the point where I want to KILL HER… but we are SO in this together. It's a nice feeling. She is my copilot… and her t-shirt says "Not as Stupid".
Vicky and I went to one of those "special" "opportunities" "for couples only" "engaged couples" "lucky couples" "yes, you" "you know you wanna" "it won't hurt" "much" "you pathetic little consumer" "we'll swallow your soul" "KISS THE ETERNAL NOSE-HOLE OF MICHAEL JACKSON!!!!" and went, of course, because we were offered free things.
FREE THINGS!
… I make myself sick.
So, long story short… honest… it was a sales presentation for Royal Prestige and we ended up buying their cookware and their cutlery. (Bottom line: I know cutlery and theirs is pretty good and, from what I know about cookware, theirs doesn't suck, either.)
It cost us a couple thousand dollars.
You may now release the Ken La Salle killing virus… anybody?
Well, we did get a five day vacation package and some other free shit. Okay, that was nice.
But let me take you back to the beginning of the presentation for a minute, okay? Vicky and I walked in, her saying, "I just want the free stuff", and me saying, "It's all a scam, you know?" We were hardened cynics. We were good.
Couple hours later, we were drooling consumers.
Fuck.
No, I don't think we were taken. (Hey, it's about time I got some good pots and pans - Rosa having taken my last set - and I'd lived without good knives for long enough - Rosa, of course, having taken my last set…. What a bitch.) All told, we got out without being too badly butt-loved. Still, I can't believe how quickly our resolved was turned into jello pudding (Insert signature Bill Cosby line here.) and fed back to us.
The end.
Oh, wait. One more thing. An aside. After this past weekend's trip and last night, there's no denying anymore that Vicky and I are a couple. Sure, we fight to the point where I want to KILL HER… but we are SO in this together. It's a nice feeling. She is my copilot… and her t-shirt says "Not as Stupid".
Tuesday, November 09, 2004
How we treat our celebrities is how we treat ourselves!...
Mariah Carey is in trouble. She needs your help.
The New York Post is reporting, "Mariah doesn't have a lot of cash left. She got about $16 million after taxes, but went through a lot of it. She has a hairdresser and make-up artist who she keeps on a regular basis and they cost $7,200 a day. She won't leave home without getting her hair and make-up done."
Won't you please give?
The New York Post is reporting, "Mariah doesn't have a lot of cash left. She got about $16 million after taxes, but went through a lot of it. She has a hairdresser and make-up artist who she keeps on a regular basis and they cost $7,200 a day. She won't leave home without getting her hair and make-up done."
Won't you please give?
I just write 'em. You figure out the meaning...
Something's been on my mind lately:
"There's no such thing as Redemption, only second chances..."
"There's no such thing as Redemption, only second chances..."
With an administration like this, who needs terrorists?...
Now Shrub's basically given the military 4,000 surface-to-air missiles!!!
I think we should surrender before Bush outsmarts Bin Laden by giving him the blue states!!!
I think we should surrender before Bush outsmarts Bin Laden by giving him the blue states!!!
Who needs math when we have Shrub?...
Turns out voter turnout in Florida was much better than expected! Check this out:
Collier County Voter Turnout was 127,409. 128,352 votes were cast for president.
Duval County Voter Turnout was 379,257. 379,614 votes were cast for president.
Glades County Voter Turnout was 3,446. 4,188 votes were cast for president.
Highlands County Voter Turnout was 33,996. 41,491 votes were cast for president.
Lake County Voter Turnout was 123,751. 123,938 votes were cast for president.
Okaloosa County Voter Turnout was 89,485. 89,707 votes were cast for president.
Orange County Voter Turnout was 386,104. 387,752 votes were cast for president.
Osceola County Voter Turnout was 63,589. 82,178 votes were cast for president.
Leon County Voter Turnout was 136229. 136,314 votes were cast for president.
Palm Beach County Voter Turnout was 452,061. 542,835 votes were cast for president.
Volusia County Voter Turnout was 209,052. 228,358 votes were cast for president.
Collier County Voter Turnout was 127,409. 128,352 votes were cast for president.
Duval County Voter Turnout was 379,257. 379,614 votes were cast for president.
Glades County Voter Turnout was 3,446. 4,188 votes were cast for president.
Highlands County Voter Turnout was 33,996. 41,491 votes were cast for president.
Lake County Voter Turnout was 123,751. 123,938 votes were cast for president.
Okaloosa County Voter Turnout was 89,485. 89,707 votes were cast for president.
Orange County Voter Turnout was 386,104. 387,752 votes were cast for president.
Osceola County Voter Turnout was 63,589. 82,178 votes were cast for president.
Leon County Voter Turnout was 136229. 136,314 votes were cast for president.
Palm Beach County Voter Turnout was 452,061. 542,835 votes were cast for president.
Volusia County Voter Turnout was 209,052. 228,358 votes were cast for president.
Why I mentioned "Hitchhiker's Guide"...
Okay, I'm so tired this morning (three hours sleep last night - THRILL!) that I forgot to finish one thread of my story about our little trip.
Vicky and I listened to the audio version of "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" on our trip read, with all the jokes immaculately timed, by the author, Douglas Adams. (This was a little creepy, seeing as how he's dead and all.) I paid close attention to Vicky through the whole thing and I can report that she did not laugh once.
Not once!
"The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" is pretty much universally recognized as one of the funniest books ever written - and it didn't get one laugh out of Vicky.
Vicky also never laughs at any of my jokes.
So, I figure I'm in good company.
Vicky and I listened to the audio version of "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" on our trip read, with all the jokes immaculately timed, by the author, Douglas Adams. (This was a little creepy, seeing as how he's dead and all.) I paid close attention to Vicky through the whole thing and I can report that she did not laugh once.
Not once!
"The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" is pretty much universally recognized as one of the funniest books ever written - and it didn't get one laugh out of Vicky.
Vicky also never laughs at any of my jokes.
So, I figure I'm in good company.
Some things happened while I was away...
You'll probably see a few posts along these lines today. I go away for a few days and the madness continues. More and more, evidence of a rigged election comes forth... of course... but to top it off, I saw this from yesterday:
Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger has won the George Bush Award for Excellence in Public Service.
The inmates are in charge, folks.
Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger has won the George Bush Award for Excellence in Public Service.
The inmates are in charge, folks.
The days at Sand Rock Farm…
It was our first vacation alone, and our last for some time what with the purchase of a home and all, and now we're back… to tell it…
Parenthetically, I find it amazing how quickly life reasserts itself upon our return and how distracted I already feel by the demands imposed by it… but I'll tell it as best I can.
We left Saturday morning and, for those of you who doubt how quickly we can start fighting, we started fighting almost immediately. Vicky began what she calls her "teasing" and what I call being belittling, insulting, and just plain mean. By the end of the weekend, she said, "Well, I guess I just can't tease you, can I?" and I replied, "No. You can't." Let's not mince words: I do not have a thick skin. I am sensitive to insults. I don't much like them and I don't expect them from someone in whom I trust me emotional well-being.
The drive up, therefore, was pretty excruciating for me. We stopped in Santa Barbara for lunch at Ruby's (yes, we drove all that way for Ruby's)(… it's good.) and, by the time we were done, we back on our feet, relationship-wise speaking. I'd downloaded The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy for Vicky. She said she'd always wanted to read it and I thought this'd be a fun way to catch it. There wasn't much listening, though, by the time we hit the Salinas area. From that point on, we were off the 101 and I was paying close attention to what I was sure was getting us lost. Thankfully, though, the old Ken luck with finding my way worked and we did. We pulled up to the Sand Rock Farm B&B around 5pm.
We were greeted with glasses of wine and directions to what we were promised would be a smashing place for dinner. Theo's. It was a small restaurant, refined, the kind of place that uses goat cheese and Disney animals… actually every place in the Capitola area was like that. It was disconcerting. Vicky tried the Gnocchi, which I mispronounced for her… but then I'm not quite as high-falutin' as they were at Theo's. Breaking my lifelong rule of not eating cute Disney characters, I had Thumper for dinner. It might have been good; I felt too guilty to really enjoy it.
Back at the room, we enjoyed the in-room jacuzzi and pretty much passed out.
The next day, our only full day there, started with an incredible breakfast. They really know how to cook at the Sand Rock Farm. I can't give you exact details because each breakfast had several courses intricately prepared with wonderful ingredients - you just wanted to ask for FOURTHs! On top of that, everything there was beautiful. You just want to die there because you knew that, even if you lived in the Hearse Castle, going home would be a let-down.
Chris and Lynn, our hosts, were both incredibly helpful, giving us more suggestions of great things we could do than we could possibly do if we moved in there. We started the day with a hike at the Nisene Marks Forest, woods that had been clear-cut a century before but were looking very good - as forests go… Vicky was great. She kept saying, "No, let's go further." Our hike was eventually eight miles long… about four miles too long for Vicky. She suffered for it. But we both loved it while we were doing it. The woods were so cozy and walking through them had a very "Hundred-Acre Wood" feel. We took lots of pictures but missed taking pictures of the enormous slugs we saw… okay, who takes pictures of slugs - but now we have no proof! Rats! From there, we went to the Capitola shore and meandered around the shoreline shops and had lunch. It was around that time when I decided I wanted to move there. I figure I can sell my townhouse ("my townhouse" - I like the ring!) and buy a well-accommodated shoebox, which is all you need, really… Okay, so I'm not moving. Dinner that night was at the Bittersweet Bistro, another recommendation from the Sand Rock folks. There, I was able to get my "Extra-dry Absolut Martini w/no olive", so I felt at home. Of course, dinner was fantastic. We decided to forego dessert and bought a bottle of wine to bring back to our room. The wine remains undrunk as did we - passing out from an extremely full day.
Monday was our last day… dammit. We were greeted with an intimate breakfast for two - it was really sweet - and spent the rest of the morning taking pictures around the grounds. This place is too beautiful to be real and cozy as my great-aunt's home… you know, if I had a great-aunt. When we'd first arrived, we'd walked the grounds and watched deer nibble across a meadow. Now, Vicky kept taking pictures because she just didn't want to go and I kept wondering how I could get SIXTHs of breakfast! Our first day there, I'd told Vicky, "The only thing they need to make this place perfect is a cookie jar with oatmeal-raisin cookies." I stand by that.
Heading home, we started fighting again. Vicky says we don't fight but, guess what, it troubles me. I consider it serious.
I wish we'd stayed there. It was the perfect retreat. But we're back...
Parenthetically, I find it amazing how quickly life reasserts itself upon our return and how distracted I already feel by the demands imposed by it… but I'll tell it as best I can.
We left Saturday morning and, for those of you who doubt how quickly we can start fighting, we started fighting almost immediately. Vicky began what she calls her "teasing" and what I call being belittling, insulting, and just plain mean. By the end of the weekend, she said, "Well, I guess I just can't tease you, can I?" and I replied, "No. You can't." Let's not mince words: I do not have a thick skin. I am sensitive to insults. I don't much like them and I don't expect them from someone in whom I trust me emotional well-being.
The drive up, therefore, was pretty excruciating for me. We stopped in Santa Barbara for lunch at Ruby's (yes, we drove all that way for Ruby's)(… it's good.) and, by the time we were done, we back on our feet, relationship-wise speaking. I'd downloaded The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy for Vicky. She said she'd always wanted to read it and I thought this'd be a fun way to catch it. There wasn't much listening, though, by the time we hit the Salinas area. From that point on, we were off the 101 and I was paying close attention to what I was sure was getting us lost. Thankfully, though, the old Ken luck with finding my way worked and we did. We pulled up to the Sand Rock Farm B&B around 5pm.
We were greeted with glasses of wine and directions to what we were promised would be a smashing place for dinner. Theo's. It was a small restaurant, refined, the kind of place that uses goat cheese and Disney animals… actually every place in the Capitola area was like that. It was disconcerting. Vicky tried the Gnocchi, which I mispronounced for her… but then I'm not quite as high-falutin' as they were at Theo's. Breaking my lifelong rule of not eating cute Disney characters, I had Thumper for dinner. It might have been good; I felt too guilty to really enjoy it.
Back at the room, we enjoyed the in-room jacuzzi and pretty much passed out.
The next day, our only full day there, started with an incredible breakfast. They really know how to cook at the Sand Rock Farm. I can't give you exact details because each breakfast had several courses intricately prepared with wonderful ingredients - you just wanted to ask for FOURTHs! On top of that, everything there was beautiful. You just want to die there because you knew that, even if you lived in the Hearse Castle, going home would be a let-down.
Chris and Lynn, our hosts, were both incredibly helpful, giving us more suggestions of great things we could do than we could possibly do if we moved in there. We started the day with a hike at the Nisene Marks Forest, woods that had been clear-cut a century before but were looking very good - as forests go… Vicky was great. She kept saying, "No, let's go further." Our hike was eventually eight miles long… about four miles too long for Vicky. She suffered for it. But we both loved it while we were doing it. The woods were so cozy and walking through them had a very "Hundred-Acre Wood" feel. We took lots of pictures but missed taking pictures of the enormous slugs we saw… okay, who takes pictures of slugs - but now we have no proof! Rats! From there, we went to the Capitola shore and meandered around the shoreline shops and had lunch. It was around that time when I decided I wanted to move there. I figure I can sell my townhouse ("my townhouse" - I like the ring!) and buy a well-accommodated shoebox, which is all you need, really… Okay, so I'm not moving. Dinner that night was at the Bittersweet Bistro, another recommendation from the Sand Rock folks. There, I was able to get my "Extra-dry Absolut Martini w/no olive", so I felt at home. Of course, dinner was fantastic. We decided to forego dessert and bought a bottle of wine to bring back to our room. The wine remains undrunk as did we - passing out from an extremely full day.
Monday was our last day… dammit. We were greeted with an intimate breakfast for two - it was really sweet - and spent the rest of the morning taking pictures around the grounds. This place is too beautiful to be real and cozy as my great-aunt's home… you know, if I had a great-aunt. When we'd first arrived, we'd walked the grounds and watched deer nibble across a meadow. Now, Vicky kept taking pictures because she just didn't want to go and I kept wondering how I could get SIXTHs of breakfast! Our first day there, I'd told Vicky, "The only thing they need to make this place perfect is a cookie jar with oatmeal-raisin cookies." I stand by that.
Heading home, we started fighting again. Vicky says we don't fight but, guess what, it troubles me. I consider it serious.
I wish we'd stayed there. It was the perfect retreat. But we're back...
Friday, November 05, 2004
Hot fresh VOTER FRAUD...
Now that Shrub's firmly enthroned, tales of voter fraud abound!
Where does the march on Washington begin?
Where does the march on Washington begin?
They say moving takes away a year of your life...
Time to throw out another year -
I GOT THE HOUSE!
... more news to follow... next week...
I GOT THE HOUSE!
... more news to follow... next week...
Sounds familiar...
I know I've said this before... it's one of the reason I disassociated myself with Christianity... but now Moby is saying it.... so it's not like I'm repeating myself. Listen:
ok,
i know we're in our time of repose and healing and whatnot, but i was watching the reverend jerry falwell on tv today and he was talking about 'christian values' and i was outraged. his 'christian values' are:
1-anti-gay
2-anti-women
3-strong national defense
4-pro-death penalty
i've said it before, and i'll say it again, how in the world can the christian right call themselves christian?
where in the teachings of christ does christ talk about:
1-homosexuality
2-abortion
3-patriotism ?
the election was decided by the christian right, but how in the world are these people actually christians?
i'm sorry, i don't mean to judge, but i've read the gospels quite a few times, and it seems pretty clear that 'christian values' are:
1-humility
2-non-judgementalism
3-caring for the poor
4-compassion
5-love
6-serving god
don't get me wrong, i'm not presenting myself as a virtuous, upstanding christian. i'm just saying that it outrages and baffles me that so many millions of americans call themselves christians but yet have belief systems that are seemingly antithetical to the teachings of christ.
i'm going out on a theological limb here, but i do think that christ would be
1-anti war
2-anti death penalty
3-anti capitalist
4-pro environmentalism
5-pro programs that help the poor
so, not to make a pun, but what the hell? how is it that millions of americans call themselves christians but don't seem to incorporate any of christ's teachings into their lives? what do they teach in their churches? how do they get around christ's teachings on: love, forgiveness, pacifism, compassion, anti clericalism, anti-capitalism, etc?
at some point i would really like to debate some conservative christian leaders and ask them how they can call themselves christians and not actually incorporate christs teachings into their teachings and beliefs and actions. and again, i'm not presenting myself as a fantastic, upstanding christian. but just as i'd be dismayed to hear about vegans eating beef i'm also dismayed to hear about christians who are vicious, divisive, pro-war and pro-death penalty. -moby
ok,
i know we're in our time of repose and healing and whatnot, but i was watching the reverend jerry falwell on tv today and he was talking about 'christian values' and i was outraged. his 'christian values' are:
1-anti-gay
2-anti-women
3-strong national defense
4-pro-death penalty
i've said it before, and i'll say it again, how in the world can the christian right call themselves christian?
where in the teachings of christ does christ talk about:
1-homosexuality
2-abortion
3-patriotism ?
the election was decided by the christian right, but how in the world are these people actually christians?
i'm sorry, i don't mean to judge, but i've read the gospels quite a few times, and it seems pretty clear that 'christian values' are:
1-humility
2-non-judgementalism
3-caring for the poor
4-compassion
5-love
6-serving god
don't get me wrong, i'm not presenting myself as a virtuous, upstanding christian. i'm just saying that it outrages and baffles me that so many millions of americans call themselves christians but yet have belief systems that are seemingly antithetical to the teachings of christ.
i'm going out on a theological limb here, but i do think that christ would be
1-anti war
2-anti death penalty
3-anti capitalist
4-pro environmentalism
5-pro programs that help the poor
so, not to make a pun, but what the hell? how is it that millions of americans call themselves christians but don't seem to incorporate any of christ's teachings into their lives? what do they teach in their churches? how do they get around christ's teachings on: love, forgiveness, pacifism, compassion, anti clericalism, anti-capitalism, etc?
at some point i would really like to debate some conservative christian leaders and ask them how they can call themselves christians and not actually incorporate christs teachings into their teachings and beliefs and actions. and again, i'm not presenting myself as a fantastic, upstanding christian. but just as i'd be dismayed to hear about vegans eating beef i'm also dismayed to hear about christians who are vicious, divisive, pro-war and pro-death penalty. -moby
Shrub Won, US Nothing…
What can I say? I haven't written much these past couple of days because of this horrible feeling I have over the election of this idiot-Hitler. Bad times are coming to top the bad times we've already been through. And I find it beyond belief that with all of those who have relatives in Iraq, and all of those who have lost jobs, and all of those who have so much more to lose at his hands, Shrub could have won. I'd sooner believe I talked to God over coffee playing cribbage than to believe this… shit. And it is. It's shit.
On the upside, I found out that my brother, Dwight, did not vote for him. So, maybe there's hope?
… I doubt it, too.
In other news, I may be hearing something on the house today. Our offer was countered and we made a counter-offer of $310,000… which is an obscene amount of money, really. Less than ten years ago, I paid $150,000 for twice as much house! This place is a 2 bedroom, 1.5 bath townhouse… which, by the way, Tim and Autumn, is not an invitation to tell me how much more house I could buy in Oregon. And, Rich, I know you probably bought your house for a fiver and a few beers… I don't want to hear it!
This weekend, Vicky and I are going on our trip. I'm really looking forward to it and I'd tell you all about it but it's a surprise for Vicky and I heard a rumor that she sometimes reads this Blog. Imagine! But details will follow, both about the house and the trip, next week. (Shit, I should sell subscriptions!)
As for myself, I finally realized what's been happening to me - and it's no wonder I didn't know what it was before because it's been so long since the last time it happened. I have writer's block. I can't work on anything: play, story, CD. I'm dry. It's an awful feeling… and no surprise if you consider the prolific years I've just been through.
I'm just thankful for Vicky. Can you imagine if I'd hit writer's block before she'd come along. (Four words: Late Night Phone Calls!) I told her last night how thankful I was for her…. She retorted, "What brought that on?" and I wanted to flog her to death with poo… it's just been one of those weeks.
On the upside, I found out that my brother, Dwight, did not vote for him. So, maybe there's hope?
… I doubt it, too.
In other news, I may be hearing something on the house today. Our offer was countered and we made a counter-offer of $310,000… which is an obscene amount of money, really. Less than ten years ago, I paid $150,000 for twice as much house! This place is a 2 bedroom, 1.5 bath townhouse… which, by the way, Tim and Autumn, is not an invitation to tell me how much more house I could buy in Oregon. And, Rich, I know you probably bought your house for a fiver and a few beers… I don't want to hear it!
This weekend, Vicky and I are going on our trip. I'm really looking forward to it and I'd tell you all about it but it's a surprise for Vicky and I heard a rumor that she sometimes reads this Blog. Imagine! But details will follow, both about the house and the trip, next week. (Shit, I should sell subscriptions!)
As for myself, I finally realized what's been happening to me - and it's no wonder I didn't know what it was before because it's been so long since the last time it happened. I have writer's block. I can't work on anything: play, story, CD. I'm dry. It's an awful feeling… and no surprise if you consider the prolific years I've just been through.
I'm just thankful for Vicky. Can you imagine if I'd hit writer's block before she'd come along. (Four words: Late Night Phone Calls!) I told her last night how thankful I was for her…. She retorted, "What brought that on?" and I wanted to flog her to death with poo… it's just been one of those weeks.
Thursday, November 04, 2004
I can't speak...
Still appalled, sickened, disgusted, shaken... hurting from this "election". So, I thought, until I'm ready to write something, I'd include some thoughts of others who are...
This comes from Salon.com, written by Mark Crispin Miller, a media critic, professor of communications at New York University, and author, most recently, of "Cruel and Unusual: Bush/Cheney's New World Order."
First of all, this election was definitely rigged. I have no doubt about it. It's a statistical impossibility that Bush got 8 million more votes than he got last time. In 2000, he got 15 million votes from right-wing Christians, and there are approximately 19 million of them in the country. They were eager to get the other 4 million. That was pretty much Karl Rove's strategy to get Bush elected.
But given Bush's low popularity ratings and the enormous number of new voters -- who skewed Democratic -- there is no way in the world that Bush got 8 million more votes this time. I think it had a lot to do with the electronic voting machines. Those machines are completely untrustworthy, and that's why the Republicans use them. Then there's the fact that the immediate claim of Ohio was not contested by the news media -- when Andrew Card came out and claimed the state, not only were the votes in Ohio not counted, they weren't even all cast.
I would have to hear a much stronger argument for the authenticity, or I should say the veracity, of this popular vote for Bush before I'm willing to believe it. If someone can prove to me that it happened, that Bush somehow pulled 8 million magic votes out of a hat, OK, I'll accept it. I'm an independent, not a Democrat, and I'm not living in denial.
And that's not even talking about Florida, which is about as Democratic a state as Guatemala used to be. The news media is obliged to make the Republicans account for all these votes, and account for the way they were counted. Simply to embrace this result as definitive is irrational. But there is every reason to question it ... I find it beyond belief that the press in this formerly democratic country would not have made the integrity of the electoral system a front page, top-of-the-line story for the last three years. I worked and worked and worked to get that story into the media, and no one touched it until your guy did.
Talk to anyone from a real democracy -- from Canada or any European country or India. They are staggered to discover that 80 percent of our touch-screen electronic voting machines have no paper trail and are manufactured by companies owned by Bush Republicans. But there is very little sense of outrage here. Americans for a host of reasons have become alienated from the spirit of the Bill of Rights and that should not be tolerated.
This comes from Salon.com, written by Mark Crispin Miller, a media critic, professor of communications at New York University, and author, most recently, of "Cruel and Unusual: Bush/Cheney's New World Order."
First of all, this election was definitely rigged. I have no doubt about it. It's a statistical impossibility that Bush got 8 million more votes than he got last time. In 2000, he got 15 million votes from right-wing Christians, and there are approximately 19 million of them in the country. They were eager to get the other 4 million. That was pretty much Karl Rove's strategy to get Bush elected.
But given Bush's low popularity ratings and the enormous number of new voters -- who skewed Democratic -- there is no way in the world that Bush got 8 million more votes this time. I think it had a lot to do with the electronic voting machines. Those machines are completely untrustworthy, and that's why the Republicans use them. Then there's the fact that the immediate claim of Ohio was not contested by the news media -- when Andrew Card came out and claimed the state, not only were the votes in Ohio not counted, they weren't even all cast.
I would have to hear a much stronger argument for the authenticity, or I should say the veracity, of this popular vote for Bush before I'm willing to believe it. If someone can prove to me that it happened, that Bush somehow pulled 8 million magic votes out of a hat, OK, I'll accept it. I'm an independent, not a Democrat, and I'm not living in denial.
And that's not even talking about Florida, which is about as Democratic a state as Guatemala used to be. The news media is obliged to make the Republicans account for all these votes, and account for the way they were counted. Simply to embrace this result as definitive is irrational. But there is every reason to question it ... I find it beyond belief that the press in this formerly democratic country would not have made the integrity of the electoral system a front page, top-of-the-line story for the last three years. I worked and worked and worked to get that story into the media, and no one touched it until your guy did.
Talk to anyone from a real democracy -- from Canada or any European country or India. They are staggered to discover that 80 percent of our touch-screen electronic voting machines have no paper trail and are manufactured by companies owned by Bush Republicans. But there is very little sense of outrage here. Americans for a host of reasons have become alienated from the spirit of the Bill of Rights and that should not be tolerated.
Wednesday, November 03, 2004
Weighing in…
(Pardon for the delay. I've been having problems accessing Blogger.)
To say that this is a truly sad day is an understatement of incomprehensible proportions.
If all predictions are accurate, George W. Bush has been re-elected. This thug, this half-wit, this (if the lessons of Nuremburg and the Geneva Convention is to be observed) war criminal has been risen above the nation as an example of the best we can be and given the highest seat of power in the world.
I am disgusted, sickened by my fellow man. Even if Shrub doesn't win, it is horrifying enough to think he got one vote. I don't know of anyone reading this site who'd make such a revolting mistake but if you did, and you are reading, I don't know how you can stop yourself from vomiting for the remainder of your days.
Update: Kerry has conceeded. Shrub has won. I cannot think of a more morally reprehensible outcome.
To say that this is a truly sad day is an understatement of incomprehensible proportions.
If all predictions are accurate, George W. Bush has been re-elected. This thug, this half-wit, this (if the lessons of Nuremburg and the Geneva Convention is to be observed) war criminal has been risen above the nation as an example of the best we can be and given the highest seat of power in the world.
I am disgusted, sickened by my fellow man. Even if Shrub doesn't win, it is horrifying enough to think he got one vote. I don't know of anyone reading this site who'd make such a revolting mistake but if you did, and you are reading, I don't know how you can stop yourself from vomiting for the remainder of your days.
Update: Kerry has conceeded. Shrub has won. I cannot think of a more morally reprehensible outcome.
Tuesday, November 02, 2004
NO POLITICS - ALL HOUSE…
Oy.
So, I made an offer on a house yesterday.
And then Bush -
YES! I MADE AN OFFER ON A HOUSE!
Which brought on panic attacks, much kvetching - AAAAGGHHHH!
Vicky said, "Do you need to buy a pack of cigarettes?"
"No. I'm fine."
"You sure you don't need to have a cigarette?"
I paced the living room… I stood in the kitchen… I paced the bedroom… "I'm going to get some cigarettes."
I sat out on the patio, drank wine, had a couple cloves…
I'm really nervous. It's times like these that everything falls apart, when earthquakes happen and meteors fall, when brains spontaneously eject through ear holes… other people's!
… just a little nervous...
So, I made an offer on a house yesterday.
And then Bush -
YES! I MADE AN OFFER ON A HOUSE!
Which brought on panic attacks, much kvetching - AAAAGGHHHH!
Vicky said, "Do you need to buy a pack of cigarettes?"
"No. I'm fine."
"You sure you don't need to have a cigarette?"
I paced the living room… I stood in the kitchen… I paced the bedroom… "I'm going to get some cigarettes."
I sat out on the patio, drank wine, had a couple cloves…
I'm really nervous. It's times like these that everything falls apart, when earthquakes happen and meteors fall, when brains spontaneously eject through ear holes… other people's!
… just a little nervous...
Monday, November 01, 2004
More X-Box games???....
Okay, so I'm weak. Piss off!
Still here? I bought the coolest games this weekend! Is it any wonder I can't work?
I got Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time, that looks as gorgeous as it plays... too bad it's hard as hell. (But at $12 - used - you won't hear me complaining!) I finally got Spiderman 2, and it's just as amazing as I've heard. You really feel like you're swinging through a Spidey comic. I looooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooove it! Lastly, I picked up X-Men: Legends. I paid full price because, hey, Vicky really wanted it. Now, I just have to find a way to get her to play it. (There's a difference between "I want it" and "I'll play it", it seems.)
Those of you keeping up on the video game madness this holiday season know that most companies have waiting for the holidays to release their games this year. In other words, there's going to be a phenomenal glut.
So, what's on the horizon for my X-Box? (Which is, of course, not even touching PC games.) (What has Vicky gotten herself into???)
First of all, there's the Sonic Mega Collection. Vicky has told me that, not only does she want this but, she'll play this one... so... On Nov. 15 comes Need for Speed Underground 2 - the Burnout 3 replacement we'll probably need by then. And, of course, Prince of Persia: Warrior Within comes out on 11/30... so...
And I probably won't be able to get any of these if I buy that house!
... must make sure I don't buy that house...
Still here? I bought the coolest games this weekend! Is it any wonder I can't work?
I got Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time, that looks as gorgeous as it plays... too bad it's hard as hell. (But at $12 - used - you won't hear me complaining!) I finally got Spiderman 2, and it's just as amazing as I've heard. You really feel like you're swinging through a Spidey comic. I looooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooove it! Lastly, I picked up X-Men: Legends. I paid full price because, hey, Vicky really wanted it. Now, I just have to find a way to get her to play it. (There's a difference between "I want it" and "I'll play it", it seems.)
Those of you keeping up on the video game madness this holiday season know that most companies have waiting for the holidays to release their games this year. In other words, there's going to be a phenomenal glut.
So, what's on the horizon for my X-Box? (Which is, of course, not even touching PC games.) (What has Vicky gotten herself into???)
First of all, there's the Sonic Mega Collection. Vicky has told me that, not only does she want this but, she'll play this one... so... On Nov. 15 comes Need for Speed Underground 2 - the Burnout 3 replacement we'll probably need by then. And, of course, Prince of Persia: Warrior Within comes out on 11/30... so...
And I probably won't be able to get any of these if I buy that house!
... must make sure I don't buy that house...
Stephanie - Stephanie - Stephanie…
I just got a great email from Stephanie… but I still can't write back to her and tell her how funny it is because there's something screwy with her email. So, I'll tell her here.
Steph, there's something screwy with your email!
And what's this email about? Well, it's called "As I Mature"… here are some excerpts…
As I Mature
I've learned that you cannot make someone love you. All you can do is stalk them and hope they panic and give in.
I've learned that no matter how much I care, some people are just assholes.
I've learned that it takes years to build up trust, and it only takes suspicion, not proof, to destroy it.
I've learned that you can get by on charm for about fifteen minutes. After that, you'd better have a big willy or huge boobs. (I'd add "Or a whole lot of money".)
I've learned that you shouldn't compare yourself to others - they are more screwed up than you think.
I've learned that you can keep vomiting long after you think you're finished. (Vicky can vouch.)
I've learned that we are responsible for what we do, unless we are celebrities. (And possibly either white or rich. All three is a Trifecta!)
Steph, there's something screwy with your email!
And what's this email about? Well, it's called "As I Mature"… here are some excerpts…
As I Mature
I've learned that you cannot make someone love you. All you can do is stalk them and hope they panic and give in.
I've learned that no matter how much I care, some people are just assholes.
I've learned that it takes years to build up trust, and it only takes suspicion, not proof, to destroy it.
I've learned that you can get by on charm for about fifteen minutes. After that, you'd better have a big willy or huge boobs. (I'd add "Or a whole lot of money".)
I've learned that you shouldn't compare yourself to others - they are more screwed up than you think.
I've learned that you can keep vomiting long after you think you're finished. (Vicky can vouch.)
I've learned that we are responsible for what we do, unless we are celebrities. (And possibly either white or rich. All three is a Trifecta!)
Cause the times they are a'changing…
Two things you gotta do:
1) Get your ass out there and vote tomorrow. Regime change, yo!
2) Watch Eminem's new video, Mosh. To say it's powerful isn't going far enough. He stepped up, I'll say that.
Vicky and I are putting an offer in on a home today… that is really bizarre. Actually, I'm the one putting in the offer since I'm buying the place. But I gotta say, it is really weird. Feels like somebody else's life sometimes.
… well, sometimes. Other times, I can't help but be reminded that it's my own.
Like Saturday, for instance, when Sean and I were at lunch. I asked him what Megan was up to and he said, as if in passing, "Oh, she's at Rosa's for Rosa's daughter's one-year birthday party."
Ouch. So, it's been one year. I don't know why but I felt sick to hear it. I still feel sick to think about it.
On another note, I've tried working on this year's disks. I've even tried writing. But in the past month or so, things have just dried up inside. I can't seem to do any work. Here's the theory behind that: I don't need to. One thing a lot of writer's I've known have noticed is that you tend to create more in a storm, as if the turmoil draws it out. Now, I gotta tell you, life with Vicky's no picnic - we're always causing each other grief and a double homicide is only prevented by our love for one another - so you'd think that'd be turmoil enough… but… no. Because I'm happy I've found a home in her, a place in my life where I feel I belong… which throws a wrench in my work! Well, I'm going to try and complete this year's disks but that's probably it.
And I'll tell you something else. This will probably be the last year for the disks. I've been doing them for four years now - FOUR years! They should be called the fucking Shrub set! Anyway, they were never meant to go on for a lifetime and, after this year, I'm really going to have to reassess.
So… lots of changes… now get to the polls and let's really change things.
1) Get your ass out there and vote tomorrow. Regime change, yo!
2) Watch Eminem's new video, Mosh. To say it's powerful isn't going far enough. He stepped up, I'll say that.
Vicky and I are putting an offer in on a home today… that is really bizarre. Actually, I'm the one putting in the offer since I'm buying the place. But I gotta say, it is really weird. Feels like somebody else's life sometimes.
… well, sometimes. Other times, I can't help but be reminded that it's my own.
Like Saturday, for instance, when Sean and I were at lunch. I asked him what Megan was up to and he said, as if in passing, "Oh, she's at Rosa's for Rosa's daughter's one-year birthday party."
Ouch. So, it's been one year. I don't know why but I felt sick to hear it. I still feel sick to think about it.
On another note, I've tried working on this year's disks. I've even tried writing. But in the past month or so, things have just dried up inside. I can't seem to do any work. Here's the theory behind that: I don't need to. One thing a lot of writer's I've known have noticed is that you tend to create more in a storm, as if the turmoil draws it out. Now, I gotta tell you, life with Vicky's no picnic - we're always causing each other grief and a double homicide is only prevented by our love for one another - so you'd think that'd be turmoil enough… but… no. Because I'm happy I've found a home in her, a place in my life where I feel I belong… which throws a wrench in my work! Well, I'm going to try and complete this year's disks but that's probably it.
And I'll tell you something else. This will probably be the last year for the disks. I've been doing them for four years now - FOUR years! They should be called the fucking Shrub set! Anyway, they were never meant to go on for a lifetime and, after this year, I'm really going to have to reassess.
So… lots of changes… now get to the polls and let's really change things.
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