Logotopia, and the Little Twisted Nerve

Truth! - part 15

2010-10-07T12:25:00.000-07:00

The following statements are at least true if not interesting.

The story of David and Goliath is probably not the best metaphor for overcoming one's carnal lusts. SPOILER ALERT: The little guy wins.

If you believe that masturbation is immoral and/or unhealthy you are a fucking idiot. I know I try to pretend that I'm an intelligent writer and generally tart up my points more than that but to be less blunt would be dishonest. Every reputable doctor and psychologist in the world disagrees with you and the ONLY reason you think it's wrong is a silly misinterpretation of the "Sin of Onan" story in the Bible (his sin was disobedience to God's will, not spilling his seed). Masturbation is so healthy in fact it should be mandatory. Okay, well maybe that last bit is just opinion.

One of these days I'm going to learn not to go into Whole Foods. Every time I go I leave broke and angry.

The letters C and X serve no purpose. Every sound they make can be made by other letters. All C sounds can be made by K, S, and Tsh. All X sounds can be made with Ks and Z.

I never thought I'd live to see the day when a political candidate would lie about her father being Bozo the Clown. No really, it never would have occurred to me to think that.

The phrase "Theory of Evolution" is not intended to imply that evolution may or may not have happened. It refers to the body of theoretical ideas regarding the exact mechanisms by which evolution occurred. It's the same way scientists use the phrase "Theory of Gravity". No credible scientist disputes that evolution happens anymore than they dispute that gravity exists; just the exact how of it. It is as close to a fact as science can responsibly get.

Having done some "ghost hunting" in my time and caught some really cool EVPs (electronic voice phenomenon) I can say with absolute certainty...that it doesn't scientifically prove ghosts exist. Not even close. Catching an EVP, include the terrifying jump-to-the-ceiling one I caught, proves one thing: that EVP is a real phenomenon in the sense that something was caught on a recording. What it really is is another question. To leap to the ghost hypothesis skips the steps of establishing that consciousness can exist outside a brain (of which we have never seen and example in nature), that disembodied consciousness is aware (of which we have never seen and example in nature), that said consciousness can affect its surroundings despite its lack of matter (of which we have never seen and example in nature), and that a digital recording can be used by them to communicate (of which there-okay I'm sick of typing that).

If you are 30 years old and look like you are made of jerky and smell like a rotting corpse and have a voice like Tom Waits gargling a handful of scorpions, it's time to reevaluate the wisdom of doing all that of crystal meth.

At some point during every theatrical production I am involved in I have a moment when I think to myself "What a weird activity this is!".

I agree with conservatives on one issue: we need to go back to the sensibilities of the 1950s. Not in all areas. Just in taxation. The top tax rate was 91% for incredibly rich motherfuckers and the economy thrived because of it. As opposed to 35% now. It's a good thing Reagn and Nixon are both dead. Otherwise they'd be run out of the country for being such Marxists. The top tax rate under them was 50% and 70% respectively.

"Pants" is plural, even though they're really only one thing, because they originally came in two pieces. One for each leg.

Frotteurism is defined as "sexual arousal from the recurrent urge or behavior of touching or rubbing against a nonconsenting person". I generally insist on proper use of language but I think we should make an exception in this case and for the sake of humor call it "Icopaphilia".

Everyone dies confused.

Truth! - part 14

2010-07-20T10:47:00.000-07:00

The following statements might be true. Or maybe not. Who gives a shit? Like anybody listens to me anyway:

Depression can occasionally serve an important purpose: To get you to stop moving around so much. People suffering from the after effects of a trauma in almost all cases suffer from depression. This is because when one is injured, it is usually in their best interests to do nothing (or next to nothing) until the body has healed enough to start doing things. It's similar to how we get depressed in the winter because food is scarce and inaction conserves energy.

I feel like the best way to understand the "nothing" that is death is to have a concussion. We all lose consciousness through sleep, fainting, passing out drunk etc, but with those there is always a sense of the passage of time. I recently was involved in a serious accident and was convinced that I never lost consciousness through the whole ordeal, until several witnesses assured me that I definitely did. It was that level of nothing. Utterly devoid of perception, to the point where I could not tell that any time had passed whatsoever. I've come to the conclusion that must be what death is like.

The Mayans were an amazingly advanced people. With chilling accuracy the Mayan Calendar predicts the end of the Mayan Calendar.

100% men are from Mars and 100% women are from Venus. However, gender is a continuum not a dichotomy and none of us are 100% one or the other. Therefore we all are from somewhere in between. Now let's see, what's between Mars and Venus? Hmmmmmmm. Oh yeah, EARTH. I guess we should get over this men vs. women bullshit then and figure out the simple fact that we all want the same basic things.

It's 2010. That's 8 years after the Jetsons took place. I think it's time to start putting resources toward firing bigoted fuckheads into the sun.

Escargot are a delicious vehicle for garlic butter and I'm always into the garlic butter. However, with the intensity of the garlic butter, you can't really taste the snail. It could be anything. I suspect that escargot with a pencil covered in candle wax instead of a snail would taste exactly the same.

Speaking of French food, Absinthe? Nonsense. There's no green fairy. There are no hallucinations. The wormwood in it is only a trace and not anywhere near the volume that could do you any damage. It's not even delicious. It's just bland and lacks the burn of the other liquors. That's the only reason artists went crazy on it. It's so bland you can drink a ton of it and not notice.

Every time I or an incident I've witnessed have been mentioned in a news report (more than you might think) they always get at least one detail wrong. Usually more. Casts a degree of doubt on the accuracy of rest of the news.

Cats are not aloof. They're just socially awkward and are afraid to show interest in things because they don't want to look stupid.

"Pope" is a variation on "Papa" indicating a male. If the Catholic church ever gets to the point that they elect a female head of the church they'd have to call her something else. "Mope" perhaps?

I am frequently embarrassed by the racist thoughts that pop into my head. But then I think it through and realize I think similar thoughts about every other race including my own. As it turns out I'm not racist. I just don't like people.

The word "apology" comes from the Greek "apologos" which means "statement or story about". This means that the original use was not as a statement of remorse for some infraction but presenting your side of the story in defense of whatever fucked up thing you did. That's not an apology; that's just an excuse.

"Tabloid" is commonly used now to indicate silly, sensationalist journalism, but you know what the word actually refers to? The shape and size of the paper. 11"x 17" printed down the long side. I find that interesting for some reason.

I just figured out what really killed Soviet Communism. In every bit of both pro and anti communist propaganda, everybody is either a factory worker, farm worker, or scientist. If these films are true (and why wouldn't they be) Russia had no doctors, firefighters, cooks, teachers, office workers, accountants, house painters, etc. You can't run a country like that.

Did you know that one out of ten people is in the minority? Also four out of ten people are also in the minority, but a larger minority. Conversely four out of five people outnumber the remaining one by a daunting 400%. Seriously folks, how long are we going to let this go on?

A List of Things I Don't Like As Much As One Might Think...

2010-03-12T11:56:00.000-08:00

1. David Bowie
2. Lesbian Porn
3. Joss Whedon
4. Comic Book Conventions
5. S&M
6. Belgian Beer
7. Dungeons & Dragons
8. Anime
9. The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe
10. Las Vegas
11. Tony Bennett
12. Helping the mentally ill
13. Dancing
14. Saturday Night Live
15. Hulu
16. Norse Mythology
17. U2
18. Kielbasa
19. Bowling
20. Mario Bros and all its various permutations
21. Bob Dylan
22. Marvin Gaye
23. The Three Stooges
24. Stimulants
25. Martial arts movies

Facebook for Luddites

2010-02-16T11:50:00.000-08:00

One of my faithful readers (possibly my only reader) refuses to get on Facebook. Her reasons are sound so I won't bug her about it. However, she's missing some of my best one-liners and as possibly my only fan she deserves a larf. Here then are some of my funniest status updates from the past 3 months:

I can't tell you how comforting it is that I finally know all about Jamie Lee Curtis's bowel troubles. When I was a kid I would often wake up in a cold sweat, tormented by the thought "What if I never find out whether or not that girl from Halloween and The Fog occasionally can't poo?!" Now I know. Thanks, TV.

I'm going to change my name to Ansalem Enselmo and start a jazz combo. I'll call it the Ansalem Enselmo Ensemble. We could visit schools and have an Ansalem Enselmo Ensemble assembly.

Every morning I want to punch the preacher guy with the Public Access show who takes the same bus as me. Why? Because he has a courier bag, just perfect for carrying books in, but he insists on holding his bible in his hand. So he's basically trying to show the world how holy he is. Apparently he hasn't read Matthew 6:6-8.

A good clue that the story you are listening to is fiction: When the name of a character describes his or her function in the story.

John McKenna just wants to eat, drink and be...Mary. [snap]

Dear Customer, Congratulation! You are the lucky user of my last shred of compassion for the mentally ill. By yelling at me and insulting my intelligence for not answering a question you NEVER ASKED, you have forced me to retire from my role as a caring person. I'm sure my friends and family will learn to appreciate my newfound lack of empathy.

Q: What do all scientists who don't believe in the G-Spot have in common?
A: Short fingers. http://www.alternet.org/sex/145504/meet_the_scientists_who_think_the_g-spot_doesn%27t_exist

I have evidence that alien civilizations are visiting us but it relies exclusively on a drastic redefinition of the words "evidence", "alien", "civilizations", "visiting", and "us". I am using "that" and "are" in their traditional senses though and James Randi can't prove otherwise.

Every time I pass a "Pedestrian Underpass" sign I think "Pedestrian Underpants" and I giggle to myself, temporarily becoming a mildly retarded 8 year old (as opposed to the mildly retarded 12 year old I am the rest of the time).

An elegantly simply answer to "Why is there something instead of nothing?": That which tends to exist (something) will tend to exist. That which tends to not exist (nothing) will tend to not exist. In a nutshell it is illogical to assume that nothing is the natural state of things.

WARNING: Persons denying the existence of robots may be robots themselves.

So, when Toucan Sam was repeatedly saying "follow your nose", was that just his way of saying "Okay, there's no actual fruit in Fruit Loops...but it kinda smells like there is."?

Y'know what really bugs me? Stuff. On the other hand, y'know what's really cool? Stuff.

I think in 2010 I am going to take my Freudian slips in a nude erection.

Hey, preacher man, I can't say for certain because I've never met him, but I'm pretty sure the omnipotent creator of the universe is not impressed with your hat.

Word of the Day (that I just made up): Metaphasia -- when you can't remember the word Aphasia.

Best comic book movie ever? 'Prick Up Your Ears'. That fight scene when Doc Oc kills Commissioner Gordon with a hammer was awesome!

No, it's very important that you fax that instead of emailing it because it's still 1990 and wood pulp has maaaaaagical power.

John McKenna is very [positive adjective]...except when he's not.

Avatar was toootally the best movie ever made...except for all the ones without, schlocky Cameronesque dialogue, 2D characters, trite storylines, and gigantic plot holes. (C'mon, Sully was nearly naked. Where was he getting all that ammo?) On the other hand, I rather enjoyed the game I invented while watching: "find the nipple".

I know we're all brought up with this myth that geniuses are hard to work with, but unnecessarily complicating the already complicated theatrical process does not make you a genius. It just makes you a pain in the ass. Not getting along with your teammates is a sign of weakness not talent.

I'm going to become a suicide balmer. I'm going to rub soothing lotion on myself and everybody around me.

We all know that canned Spam is disgusting, but have you ever had fresh Spam right of the Spig? Delicious. Oh if only we had not hunted the Bolognadons to extinction.

Hey! There's no baby in this bathwater! What have we been holding onto this for?

This horny cat is just ruining everything.

My New Year's resolution is 1152 pixels by 864 pixels. No wait, that's my new screen resolution.

I just sat in as a departmental advisor at a strategic planning meeting. I feel so grown up. I guess it's time to start shaving and looking at girls.

Thanks to Micheal Buble, I'm feeling a bit 'adult contemporary' today. Would you care to share a bottle of wine by the fire and talk about our feelings?

If you wish to be taken seriously when criticizing atheism, you might want to refrain from mentioning Cambodian dictator "Paul Part". The rest of your arguments just seem silly after that.

Truth! - part 13

2010-02-08T11:32:00.000-08:00

The following statements are true (even if not all Macacqs are Trou):

I look forward to the day when "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" is replaced with "HA! I totally called that!".

Most of what we call "trivia" in the game sense is not actually trivia. Most of it is really just general knowledge. Trivia is trivial, meaning "of no consequence". Knowing the British Prime Minister during WWII (Winston Churchill) is not trivia. Knowing the top selling soft drink in the DC Comics universe (Soder-Cola) is trivia.

If you are male and someone asks you if you're watching the Super Bowl and you say no, they will then ask you why. "Busy? Not your team? More into other sports? " If you are female, they won't ask you why. Why should I have to defend my lack of interest simply because I own a penis?

A weird coincidence: The Tao Te Ching, the book by which one interprets the I-Ching is called the "Book of Changes". I-Ching is done by throwing coins. In the west sometimes we call coins "change". "Ching" is a bit like the sound of falling coins. Doesn't mean a thing but I find it funny.

Emotions are not illogical. They, like all things, follow the dictates of logic. The issue is that too many of the variables involved in emotional response are unknown because they are internal to the one experiencing them. The external observer would have no knowledge of the internal variables, and the experiencer has a distorted view of the variables because of the emotional reaction they produce. Therefore neither the experiencer nor observer are able to predict an emotional situation with any reliability.

Saying you do or don't like Jazz, is like saying you do or don't like salads. What's in the salad? Lettuce? Potatoes? Dog shit? What are the ingredients of the Jazz? Sometimes it's iceburg lettuce (Glen Miller). Sometimes it's swiss chard with blue cheese and pear vinagrette (Miles Davis). Sometimes it's dog shit (Kenny G).

The best thing the Abrahamic religions have done for the world, arguably the only good thing, is the weekend. Sabbath schmabbath, but 2 days off work is pretty cool.

I'm 6'2" 210 lbs and have a comically large head. I want to replace my Jeep with one of those tiny little Smart Cars, just because it would always be funny to see me get out of it.

"Late adopter" is synonymous with "cheap bastard".

I don't enjoy reading in the strictest sense of the word "enjoy". Not in the same way I enjoy sex or good food or watching movies. I like having read things. I enjoy having the stories or knowledge in my mind once I have read them. The actual act of doing the reading though is not what I do it for; I do it for the results of having read. It's like house cleaning. I enjoy the clean house, but the actual act of cleaning is not the enjoyable part. There must be a word for that distinct type of delayed enjoyment. Maybe in German.

I stumbled upon an exquisite form of revenge against someone who chronically won't shut the fuck up. 1) Get him stoned 2) Read aloud from your blog until he pees his pants and runs from the room.

Truth! - Part 12

2009-09-23T13:21:00.000-07:00

The following statements are still true despite their delay in reaching you:.

It occurs to me that irritating morning people have a distinct survival advantage over the rest of us up to a certain critical point when it becomes a detriment. The early bird does get the worm and therefore will go on to breed more, but eventually the early worm stealers get pecked to death by the hungry late risers. No point here. Just a random brain dropping.

Along similar lines, early to bed and early to rise can contribute to you being healthy, wealthy and wise. It can also leave you perilously unprepared for ninja attack as your night vision will be sorely underdeveloped. Just sayin'.

There are two classes of people that need to be whacked on the nose with a newspaper and told in a firm voice "NO":
1) The people that have a distinctive hat that they wear in an office setting to signify that they are interesting, in lieu of actual interesting qualities. Case in point: the lady with the Cheshire Cat visor.
and
2) The people who, in an office setting, will constantly remind you about how wacky/crazy/messed up they are. They won't act wacky; they'll just say they're wacky. "Oh I am just wrong.". They never actually are.

I spent the last eight years reading the news like a person who's afraid of flying stares at the wing: "Can't look away. Something bad might happen." Now that we have a new administration of people I generally agree with, I'm finding it hard to focus on the news. I know we need to pay attention and make sure campaign promises are kept, but my political attention is fucking exhausted. I'll keep trying, but man....

"That's just how I was raised." is not a reasonable excuse for unsupportable beliefs or behaviours. I was raised to boil the shit out of rice and pour a ton of soy sauce on it to make it edible. I grew up. I learned a better way. The societal disparagement of bigotry should be more severe than it is. In the West, we all have access to the same media now. We all have exposure to enough information to stop that shit permanently. What stops us from doing so, is what psychologists would call "enabling". "It's generational" should not be offered to excuse prejudice anymore. Homophobic? Racist? Sexist? Ethnocentrist? Anti-science? Sorry, you're a bad person. That's all there is to it.

People complain about headaches, neck pain, shoulder pain, and backaches. Considering, though, that the average head weighs about 30 pounds and we have to balance it on what is basically a narrow stack of lincoln logs tied together with meat, it's a wonder we can keep it upright at all. It's actually surprising it doesn't hurt more.

'Rock Band' is just a variation of 'Guitar hero' which is just a variation of 'Dance Dance Revolution' which is just a variation of 'Simon' which is just a variation of 'Simon Says' which is game used to teach children to follow orders. Still feel like a rockstar?

This is a topic I've covered before, but as fall approaches I think it needs a reheat. Have you noticed that in the movie 'The Nightmare Before Christmas' that none of the citizens of Halloween Town are Princesses, Sexy Nurses, Sexy Pirates, or anything else either cute or slutty? Is this an oversight on the part of Tim Burton? No, this is because Halloween is about fear and horror and death, not cuteness or sexiness (which are really just child and adult versions of the same thing).

Some people leaving the gym smile and are friendly. They could not possibly be experiencing what I experience when I exercise. Even at times when I have been in great shape, exercise always elicited an emotion in me best described as utter, abject despair. Some people, through no fault of their own (I'm glaring at you, judgemental, high-energy people), are just not wired in a way that allows them to get that endorphin bump. But I exercise anyway. I feel despair while you lot get high, and you think I'm lazy for not exercising more. Fuck off.

Afterthought: I used to think that fertility clinics were terrible. There are already too many people so if you can't have a baby just get over it. That was my thought anyway. However, I just realized, although it's counterintuitive, fertility clinics would in the long run have a net negative affect on population growth. If those who have difficulty conceiving conceive, then some will pass on that difficulty to the next generation and it will continue to be passed on and in the long run help reduce the population. The people that want to breed get babies, and the crowded people in the future get less babies. It's a win/win.

On the other hand, Lasik surgery and plastic surgery will eventually turn the species blind and ugly by making poor vision and lack of attractive features no longer evolutionary disadvantages.

The Anit-Religious Sign in Olympia

2008-12-09T12:04:00.000-08:00

This reminds me of a story:

True story. Many years ago I had an acquaintance who was involved in Theatre and had a strict Christian upbringing. Her family did not approve of her acting. They thought it was sinful and inproper for a godly young woman. She herself was not particularly religious and, like many of us in the theatre, looked on the theatre and her friends in it as a refuge from the psychological repression that her religious family represented. Like it has done for many of us, theatre saved her life, and like it has done to millions of people since it started, religion made her life nearly unbearable. As if the psychological abuse of religious fundamentalism wasn't enough, at the ripe old age of 23, she got cancer and she died. Her funeral was attended by her family and her friends. The services were extremely religious and spent a great deal of time talking about what Jesus did for her in her life, how much she loved God and Jesus, and how she's finally reunited with them in heaven. All of us theatre sinners were relegated to the outskirts of the service. Later at a gathering of the friends I couldn't take it anymore and started mouthing off (if you know me, you know my internal censor has a short battery life). I railed against religion and repressive families and stated that it was spitting on her memory to talk about how important God was to her, when it was God that made her unhappy for so much of her life and if God existed he was evil for allowing this nice, talented young woman to be struck down by something as painful as cancer at 23 fucking years old long before she could have had anything that could be called 'a life'. I probably said some other things but I don't remember. It was a long time ago and I was ranting.

In retrospect I was 100% correct in what I said, but I was 100% wrong in the time and place to discuss it and the way in which I presented it. The owner of the house was somewhat religious and we were all upset; instead of supporting my friends in times of trouble, I turned the whole thing for a few minutes into a forum for my views. That was wrong and I ended up apologizing to the host.

I think the same thing can be said about the Anti-Religious sign in Olympia. The content is all correct, but the context was ill considered. I know. We all get tired. When you're surrounded by people who disfigure their lives and their minds and the lives and minds of their children, sometimes you just lose it and start mouthing off. That's why so many atheists are called arrogant by the religious community. The goal though should not be to lose our cool. We are the more rational position, and we are therefore held to a higher standard of rational behavior. I applaud the Washington State government for honoring the separation of church and state and allowing us the forum, but let's face it: We blew it.

I No Longer Believe in the 9/11 Conspiracy BUT...

2008-07-25T12:02:00.000-07:00

Contrary to what many skeptics say about conspiracy theorists, I have changed my mind based on new information.

I finally got an explanation to the lynch pin of my belief in the 'inside job' hypothesis: The melting temperature of steel. The melting point of industrial steel is several thousand degrees higher than jet fuel burns, so therefore the fire could not have melted the beams and caused the collapse, right? Well, that's what I thought, and I wasn't alone. There is a fundamental flaw though and that's that while the temperature at which steel liquefies is much higher than burning jet fuel, the temperature at which steel can bow and warp is a few hundred degrees lower than jet fuel (think of a blacksmith melting iron with coal fire). So there you go. That's how it happened.

HOWEVER, I would have encountered this information a lot earlier if the defenders of the official version hadn't been such dicks. Whenever the questions were brought up, the believers in the official version would engage in ad hominem attacks and never (and I did a lot of Internet research) NEVER address the scientific issues beyond some vague appeal to authority (the FAA said it was this way and therefore it's true). No melt versus sag discussion ever came up. Instead they would say that what the non-believers were saying was horrible and unpatriotic. Okay, let's put that idea right out of it's misery. If I am riding in a car and for some reason I think, even if I'm wrong, that the driver is a maniac who has set the car on fire and is running over pedestrians, and I speak up and say "Hey, I think this driver might be a maniac." that doesn't mean that I hate the car. It means that I have a concern that should probably be addressed, whether I'm right, or wrong. "Why do you think that?" is infinitely more constructive than "You're just crazy." It's not an insult to the memories of the victims to investigate 9/11. If someone died and you think they were murdered it's not and insult to their memory to try to find the murderer. In fact, how many movies, books, plays, and TV shows have been based on the unassailable morality of trying to find someone's killer? Even if you turn out to be incorrect, it is never wrong to ask the question.

It's also worth noting that people felt that their government was capable of doing this. It's worth addressing why people in "the greatest country in the world", as we're always reminded that we are, feel that the people that run things are capable of mass murder. Deep down, we think our leaders are monsters. Maybe they should consider trying to...I don't know...not seem like monsters. Frankly, while I no longer believe that they actually did plan and execute 9/11, I have no problem, in light of the last 7 years, believing that they are capable of doing it; not intellectually, but ethically. They're not capable of pull it off, but they're capable of wanting to. The opportunistic way they have trotted out the little black dress of 9/11 every time they needed to justify some new war or draconian domestic policy, demonstrates that.

I still believe though, that its possible that our people saw it coming and let it happen. No proof, mind you. Just a suspicion. After all:

"Further, the process of transformation, even if it brings revolutionary change, is likely to be a long one, absent some catastrophic and catalyzing event – like a new Pearl Harbor".

- Project For a New American Century's 2000 report Rebuilding America's Defenses

Y'know What You Don't Hear Much anymore...?

2008-07-03T17:17:00.000-07:00

Stress and strain
Liver and onions
Wheat germ
G-String
Push-up bra
Head cleaner
Ebonics
Diet Rite
RPMs
High score
Kilobyte
Usenet
Chiropracty
Datsun
Indemnity
Sukiyaki
Hibachi
Winnebago
Bullhonky
Jasper
Airplane glue
Hoodoo
Warlock
The runs
Prune juice
Hobo
Purse snatcher
Pickpocket
Carny
Underarm
Hard water
Air breaks
Juvenile delinquent
Camper van
Tree surgeon
Flypaper
TV Dinner
Station identification
Shoeshine
Car phone
Klondike
Pop top
Snow cone
Keep on Truckin'
Upper
Downer
Pizza Pie
Saccharine
Frankfurter
Togs
Langustino

This is fun! Feel free to add your own!

2 Words I Made Up

2008-06-20T11:35:00.000-07:00

Falacio
1) the act of pretending to perform oral sex, as they do in (non porn) movies
2) the act of performing oral sex grudgingly, while acting like you enjoy doing it
3) the act of peforming passive-aggressively poor oral sex; that is to say oral sex so bad that you will never be asked to do it again

Lesbariner
1) a small woman who is sexually attracted to very tall women (think climbing)

Jesus Owes Me $50 - part 2

2008-06-03T15:23:00.000-07:00

One night I had a dream--
I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord and across the sky flashed scenes from my life.
For each scene I noticed two sets of footprints, one belonged to me and the other to the Lord.
When the last scene of my life flashed before me,I looked back at the footprints in the sand.
I noticed that many times along the path of my life,there was only one set of footprints.
I also noticed that it happened at the very lowest and saddest times in my life.
This really bothered me and I questioned the Lord about it.
"Lord, you said that once I decided to follow you,you would walk with me all the way,but I have noticed that during the most troublesome times in my life there is only one set of footprints. "
I don't understand why in times when I needed you most,you should leave me."
The Lord replied,
"Are you fucking kidding?! There are almost 7 billion people on the planet! I had things to do!"
Then he kicked me in the balls and took my wallet.

Truth! - part 11

2008-04-02T14:40:00.000-07:00

If it were the late 80's or early 90s, the following statement might make someone say "Word!" and then give me five:

The best reason to believe in Sasquatch? It doesn't cost you anything. Unless you are a Zoologist or are spending money to go on a Sasquatch expedition, it has no effect on your life at all. Personally I think it would be much cooler to be in a world where there are giant bipedal apes running around than being in a world sans giant bipedal apes, and since I'll never know the answer, never search for the answer, and if the answer shows up it won't change my life in the slightest, call me a Sasquatch believer. If it starts costing money, I may reevaluate that stance.

This may be weird coming from a Beatles fan, but I think Yoko Ono is pretty cool.

Nothing that I have voted for that's passed, including candidates, has ever turned out badly. All the stuff that's turned out badly was stuff I didn't vote for. Maybe I know more about politics than I thought. Maybe instead of voting, y'all should just ask me.

When you know someone who is severely retarded for many years, it's hard to get a sense of how old they are. My cousin Kelli just died. She had Down's syndrome and was mentally about 2 or 3, and I have no idea how old she actually was. My best guess is slightly older than me, because I don't ever remember her being child sized. But then I don't remember her prior to 1980 or so either. Maybe she was younger than me and I just didn't meet her until she was adult sized. It's pretty weird to think about.

Unless you've been living in a cave, you've heard the rumor that Muslim believe that they will be greeted in heaven by 72 virgins as a reward for a suicide bombing. First off, they don't actually believe that. It's a lie fed to you to make your enemy seem subhuman and carnal so that you can be more easily steered around by fear. Read this. Second, regardless of whether it's supported by the Koran and the Hadiths or not, it's a dumb idea. As anachronistic as the beliefs of fundamentalist Islam may seem to someone who believes a real scientific belief like Christianity (sarcasm), they're not stupid. Anybody who has had sex with both virgins and non-virgins can tell you...virgins are lousy lays. Imagine eternity (not just a long time, ETERNITY) having awkward, clumsy, embarrassed sex with 72 giggling, naive, prisses (imagine Mormons) that, no matter how much experience they get, they never seem to get any more skillful. That would be hell, not heaven. Maybe that's the point, because the Koran and the Hadiths both agree: suicide is terrible and it makes Allah mad. (Wow, consistency in religion. Who'da thunk it?)

George Carlin is starting to look like my late grandma.

No matter how you slice it, UFOs are interesting. It's nonsensical to say you don't believe in them (unless you genuinely believe that no one has ever looked up and seen something they couldn't recognize), so the real point of contention is just what they really are. Alien space craft? Interesting. Classified military gizmos? Interesting. A huge hoax involving millions of people all over the world? Wow, that's unbelievably interesting. Delusions and hallucinations of millions of people all over the world? Holy crap, that's interesting! In light of all this, the alien spacecraft explanation is the LEAST interesting possibility. I defy you to find an explanation for UFOs that isn't in the slightest bit interesting. To claim otherwise...well, you're just in denial.

Love, Compromise, and Seafood...

2008-03-10T17:02:00.000-07:00

I just had a thought that I've never heard anybody express before. In compromising with one's mate, it's the small things that go away. You get to keep the things you like a lot (as long as your lover loves you and you express your likes adequately), but you can lose things you only like a little bit out of simple logistics. I specifically have in mind scallops. My girly hates them and I kinda like them. I don't love them though and therein lies the problem. I can't prepare them as a meal for the two of us, and if I'm cooking for myself or out at a restaurant, I'm probably not going to waste it on something I only kinda like like scallops. I'm probably going to get something I like better, like steak or shrimp. Or if she is inclined to get me a treat, it would never occur to her that scallops would be a treat, because I only kinda like them. For weird logistical reasons, I may never eat scallops again. It's weird to think about. Kinda makes me want scallops.

Some Thoughts On Zombies...

2008-02-07T10:44:00.000-08:00

In light of this exciting election season where the fate of western civization seems to hang in the balance and we face the very real potential of either great adavances in our nation and the evolution of our society or four more years of death, destruction, anti-intelectualism, and the erosion of civil liberties, I've been thinking rather intently about--what else--Zombies.

What exactly is going on when one is reanimated into the "Living Dead"? I've come to some conclusion which I would like to share with you.

First off let's define terms. I'm not talking about voodoo zombies. The voodoo type of zombie requires only one one word to explain every aspect of it's existence: Magic. If you acknowledge the action of magic, you don't really have to explain anything else. It's kind of like saying "God did it." No, I am specifically talking about the George Romero, Night of the Living Dead, brand of Zombie. I am also drawing a line at the Resident Evil, House of the Dead and 28 Days Later franchises as those are fast moving, enrage dead things and should probably be named something other that "Zombie". This may be overly parsing the necrotic community, but when I hear "zombie", I think of shambling not running. Also, and some of you may disagree, but John Russo's contribution to the Living Dead mythos should be summarily ignored. In other words, Zombies do not talk and they do not hunger for brains, any more than intoxicated punk rocker chicks spontaneously strip and dance, not to music but to the movie soundtrack, in graveyards (see Return of the Living Dead, or rather don't bother seeing it). In a nutshell I am restricting my source material to the four George Romero Living Dead films, and the book World War Z.

So what really is going on inside these walking corpses?

What are Zombies capable of and what are they not capable of? They walk, they eat, they perform repetitive tasks from the lives of their bodies, and they transmit their condition by way of these activities. They cannot reason, talk, problem solve, feel pain, or remember cause and effect. This would suggest that what we're dealing with is a virus that grows and feeds off specific parts of the central nervous system. It seems that the virus somehow stimulates, arguably overstimulates, the areas of habitual motor function (hence the ability to walk and perform repetative tasks) and the instinct to eat and ability to recognize in a basic sense "meat" or things that seem like meat. These are all activities housed in the Cerebellum, Occipital Lobe, and Parietal Lobe. The Frontal Lobe is obviously off line, and oddly, as Zombies have been shown to have no heart beat, respiration, or other autonomic functions, the Medulla is also off line. In the absence of circulation, we must assume that the virus itself has some means of locomotion within the body, presumably in the lymphatic system. The black ichor that they leak would seem a reasonable candidate for this transmission medium. The virus, directly permeating the central nervous system and periferal motor neurons, then creates what could be seen as a seizure of habitual neural pathways. It is through these most basic of activities, recognizing something to bite, moving toward it, and biting that the virus is transmitted and thus propogates it's DNA. The bite itself is not the sole transmitter, though. The virus is already ubiquitous--seeded by a comet in the first movie-- but it would seem that it cannot become active in anything but necrotic neural tissue. If you die, you are reanimated, regardless of bites. But, redundncies are not unheard of in the natural world. It would make sense for an interstellar contagion to have multiple means of propogation to adapt to the inevitable variety of media that it could find itself in. Bite transmittal works faster than death by natural causes, so perhaps that functions as an accelerator to give the infection a toe hold faster than the host could respond.

Although no film that I know of has brought this up, it would be logical to assume that a Zombie would have a limited lifespan (or "undeathspan" perhaps), as the virus would eventually run out of neural material on which to feed. This would mean that were a living dead outbreak to occur, containment would actually be a relatively simple process of evacuation and waiting it out. There is no telling though how long the virus would talk to exhaust its host, so that could prove logistically untennable. Best to shoot them I guess. Better safe than sorry.

The Hierarchy of Potential Locations

2008-01-15T11:36:00.000-08:00

When you lose something, the places you look are always in the same order:

1. Where it belongs.
2. Where you probably had it last.
3. Where you can picture leaving it.
4. Places you have been, where you remember having it.
5. Places near places you have been, where you remember having it.
6. Places you have been, even if you don't remember having it there.
7. Places near places you have been, even if you don't remember having it there.
8. Places you can picture it, even if you've not been there lately.
9. Places you can't picture it.
10. Places in which it would fit.
11. Places in which it would fit if someone forced it.
12. Places it wouldn't fit (just in case it's no longer in one piece).
13. Repeat locations 1 thru 12.
14. Places it could not possibly be.

I am just plain sick of...

2007-11-08T14:24:00.000-08:00

...machines asking me if I want to do the thing that I just told them to do.

...Hip Hop. Sorry, I just am.

...the idea that only hicks see UFOs. Actually a great many sightings are made by pilots.

...the idea that people that believe in UFOs (ie, objects in the sky that are not identified) are crazy, but people who believe in God are credible and reasonable.

...people in authority renaming things.

...fleece.

...the idea that questioning the official story of 9/11 is disrespectful of the victims. If the official story raises questions, just address them and lay them to rest. Example: "Why did it look like there were explosions preceding the collapse of the towers as if it were being demolished?" "That's an optical illusion created by the air pressure of the collapse." "Oh, okay."

...cars that all look alike.

...perfectly good chocolate being ruined by raspberry.

...people claiming to like foods because they think they should, because that's what smart sophisticated people eat. Like arugula. I know you don't really like it, even though you won't admit it. Go ahead and deny it. I see right through you.

...the number of references to coffee on Smallville.

...handwriting that is so fancy and loopy that you can't read it.

...the vocal gymnastics of modern singers. Just pick a note and sing it. Stop scatting around the melody and just sing the song.

...Jessica Alba.

...drag. Being able to put on make-up does not necessarily make you a performer. It takes a little more work than that.

...the breast cancer hype. You know there's no cure for ANY kind of cancer, right? I'm sorry to sound harsh, but your tits are not more important than somebody else's lungs, brain or bone marrow. Breast cancer is a very fashionable cause, I know, but it's not a conspiracy of men that there isn't a cure.

...people that refer to themselves as a bitch or an asshole as if they're proud of it.

Truth! - part 10

2007-09-18T12:34:00.000-07:00

The following statements are accurate, actual, appropriate, authentic, authoritative, bona fide, correct, dependable, direct, exact, factual, fitting, genuine, honest, indubitable, kosher, lawful, legal, legitimate, natural, normal, on target, perfect, precise, proper, pure, regular, right, rightful, sincere, straight, suant, sure-enough, trustworthy, truthful, typical, undeniable, undesigning, undoubted, unerring, unfaked, unfeigned, unquestionable, valid, veracious, veridical, veritable, very, wash:

I am a peaceful person by nature. However, if you tickle me, and I ask you to stop and you don't stop, I will punch you. I don't care if you are a tiny woman. I don't care if you're handicapped. I don't care if you're carrying a baby. I don't care if you ARE a baby. You have one chance to stop. If you do not, it will end in violence and it will be your fault.

You know what you never hear? "That baby is a real asshole." Babies are called fussy, cranky, moody, even temperamental, but they seem immune to the regular run of insults that we adults can be saddled with. At what age do you suppose a person is capable of being a cunt?

While we're on the subject of criticizing children, the age at which one can be considered a loser is a little ill-defined. It does however seem to be getting older. Teachers all the way up through high school are now being instructed to avoid things like red ink and words like failure because they make kids feel bad about getting answers wrong (or should I say getting answers "alternatively correct"). Come to think of it, apparently, at the age of 38, I'm too young for negative comments as well, because my supervisors at work insist on giving me feedback, despite my insistence that I'm mature enough to handle criticism. Doesn't it seem like we're all being treated as if the powers-that-be think we may snap and kill somebody if we experience anything unpleasant? I guess that episode of the Twilight Zone with the superpowered little kid turned out to be a prophetic parable.

Deductive reasoning is systematically being discouraged in our society. The people that hold our leashes want it that way. Take a moment to examine your surroundings, employ logic (if you are still capable) and you'll see it's true.

The flush toilet does not get enough lip service (ewww!) for it's brilliance. It is one of the most elegantly efficacious yet low-tech devices ever devised by humans. Open one up sometime and see how it works. It is an utterly sublime use of gravity. I would put it up there in the pantheon of human tools with levers, pulleys, and wheels.

Everything that you do, every system within which you work, every social convention you employ, every assumption you make about life, your fellow humans, love, food, music, television, board games, phlegm, airplanes, school, law, morality, grapefruits, blogs and everything else in the universe, every word you speak, every word you understand, every single atom of minutiae within your sphere, is entirely held together by belief. This belief was given to you by the people that came before you, and has no objective reality what-so-ever.

Imagine a thing called "Borple". Borple created "flang" and "mord" and all the "gerbs in berbity". There is no evidence for the existence of Borple, but most people wouldn't want to live in a world without Borple, so Borple must exist. For centuries people have argued about how Borple created "flang" and "mord" and all the "gerbs in berbity", whether "flang" came before "mord" or vice versa, or whether they were created simultaneously, or even if, being outside of the stream of time, "before" had any meaning for Borple. These arguments, over time, became much more heated, growing into murder and wars and mass cullings of primo-flangist by primo-mordists and primo-mordists by primo-flangists. Gerbists initially joined in the violence but eventually retired to a more academic role, seeing the vital importance of teaching the young the truth about Borple and its wonders. Eventually, some people discovered that 2+2=4 and tried to tell the various Borplists this fact. As Borple had not said it, the Borplists refused to believe it and despite their differences rose up and enacted laws based on Borplist principles. Those who asked what Borple was, if Borple really existed, and what Borple had to do with basic mathematics were ostracised, beaten, imprisoned or even sometimes killed publicly. Mind you, not all Borplists were violent; some of them were quite friendly and only pitied the poor nonbelievers because of their easily demonstrated yet false belief that 2+2=4, and reminded them of the torments that awaited those that did not follow the ways of Borple. Generation upon generation lived the ways of Borple, and Borplists made sure that all people, Borplist and non-Borplist, never had more than 3 of anything, because to have four, youd have to first have 2 sets of 2 and that is against the will of Borple. That's why atheists tend to be a bit angry.

What do the following 20 statements have in common?

2007-09-06T11:44:00.001-07:00

If you have to say it...it's probably not true

1) I'm great in the sack.
2) Values are important to me.
3) I'm not prejudiced.
4) I'm a strong woman.
5) I have a large penis.
6) I know what's best for my child.
7) I'm not at all gay.
8) Our workers are happy.
9) I deserve this.
10) I'm really good at (X).
11) I love healthy food.
12) I'm really smart.
13) I'm okay with being alone.
14) My friends say I'm funny.
15) I could totally kick that guy's ass.
16) I have faith.
17) We value your input.
18) To us, every person matters.
19) I know where I'm going in life.
20) I'm not angry anymore and I really feel that I have grown from the experience.

Truth! - part 9

2007-07-17T17:25:00.000-07:00

The following truements are state:

I have a proposal to help bridge the gap between skeptics and fans of the paranormal/supernatural. We should altogether stop calling things paranormal or supernatural. They're nonsensical words; if it exists, it's normal and it's natural. There are however a whole category of phenomena that exist, at least anecdotally speaking, that are off the beaten path of every day experience and we have to call them something. I would suggest just calling these experiences "fortean" (added to Webster's in 2003 I believe), after Charles Forte, writer and researcher of anomalous phenomena. A good example was illustrated on a Discovery Channel special I saw recently. They were trying to debunk a ghost sighting. In doing so, they invoked all manner of exotic explanations (geomagnetic anomalies inducing hallucinations and such). It struck me that their scientific explanation was no less weird and fascinating than the ghost hypothesis, but they were acting like it was. If both sides of the issue were to eliminate the "supernatural"-type language and just call the experience "fortean" (of subjective high strangeness), then they could come to some sort of understanding instead of arguing. Believer: "I had a subjectivey strange experience." Skeptic: "Can't argue with that. Let's figure out what happened...together." [they kiss passionately]

There is, or should be I think, an important distinction between racism and prejudice. Racism is the firm belief that one race is superior to another. Prejudice is a tendency to "pre-judge" things and people based on an underlying belief. Racism involves embracing your belief in superiority. Everyone has prejudices though, often in spite of knowing better. Don Imus is prejudiced. Louis Farrakhan is a racist.

As an avid reader, I instinctually read footnotes hoping that they will contain more in depth information. Like a secret part of the book meant only for the REAL readers. I'm currently trying to read the bible all the way through and I've discovered something: The footnotes in the bible suck! I expect to find historical context and such, but all I find is things like "and this is why you shouldn't touch yourself inappropriately". Lame.

You can turn any person into a member of an unpleasant demographic group by simply adding the word "trash" to their location. For example, I am currently "cubicle trash".

You can turn any person into your slave by adding the word "monkey" to whatever activity they perform. For example, I am your "truth monkey".

You can pay any person a childish insult by adding "y head" to what ever they are doing. I am "bloggy head".

Many people say that if they were to meet God, they'd ask "Why do bad things happen to good people?". That's an easy question. Adversity makes you stronger. An answer to one of the big philosophical questions in a mere four words. The real tough question, the one that might make God say "uuuuuhhhh..." is "Why do good things happen to bad people?". Case in point: the president.

Beware of those that tell you not to be so angry.

In my life, I have occasionally been called lazy. However, I've noticed a pattern: I've never been called lazy by somebody that wasn't trying to get me to do something that benefited them.

In many jokes about fags you will often find the phrase "assless chaps". "That guy was such a homo, he was wearing nothing but assless chaps." they'll say to flurries of derisive laughter. "Assless chaps" is redundant. All chaps are assless. That's what makes them chaps. If they had an ass, they'd be pants.

Time is not money. Time is more valuable than money. Here's proof: Do we pay doctors money to extend our lives or do we pay bankers time to increase our bank balance? Here's more proof: If a mugger says "your money or your life" which do you give him?

A Brief Word on Silence

2007-07-12T10:04:00.000-07:00

It has been brought to my attention that I may have been a bit brusk in my last post. I stated that "A great many women never learn the value of silence.". This was not my main point, but was in fact the ground work for the real point about the irony of "Shhhh" imitating a mother's heart when heard from the womb. As it was not the main point, I just sort of blew by it without elaborating, and came off as a bit of a misogynist. I will now elaborate.

A study has been done (http://www.dailymail.co.uk/pages/live/femail/article.html?in_article_id=419040&in_page_id=1879) showing that in western society women on average speak three times as much as men. Mind you, there are studies that refute that. One study being held up in opposition to this states that women on average will speak 16,215 words per day whereas men come in at 15,669, which the new study calls "statistically insignificant". Stand up in front of a crowd and give an impromptu 546 word speech. Or write a 546 word essay on whatever is in your head right now. Doesn't seem so insignificant now, does it?

However, speaking more does not necessarily imply not knowing the value of silence. Perhaps a more accurate way to put it would be "Men tend to value silence more than women.". Yes, I have heard women say "Shut up." and yes I have been subject to men who won't stop talking. This is why I use terms like "on average" and "tend to". It's been pointed out to me that women do in fact value silence, but to achieve the silence, they are more inclined to go away and be alone. I would posit that this is not silence. This is solitude. Silence is a feature of solitude, but solitude is not silence. If you can't find any cigarettes, that does not mean that you have quit smoking; the real test is quitting smoking in the presence of cigarettes. Therefore the true test of whether or not you value silence, is in a social situation. I have known many men to be in a social situation and say next to nothing (and yet still communicate quite well--topic for a different post). I've only seen a few women do that. Granted, I admit it could happen when I'm not there. It's really between you and your yapper. To prove me right or wrong, there is no other test than to look at your own behavior and watch other people. If you are in the presence of at least one other person, are you capable of not talking? For how long? Is it difficult?

Truth! - part 8

2007-06-29T08:45:00.000-07:00

The following statements are true:

You do not cross "T"s. You cross lower case "L"s and transform them into "T"s.

Supposedly most men prefer big boobs to small boobs. I think this is actually a misinterpretation. I think most men simply prefer near boobs to far boobs. The closer the boob, the better we like it. If two women are standing next to one another, the bigger boobs are closer. Think about it.

There is a small thing that Americans could do to help smooth relations with both Iraq and Iran, and really everyone else to a lesser degree. It won't end the war in Iraq or prevent it with Iran, but it might contribute to countering the US's image as ignorant and arrogant. Pronounce their names correctly. It's not "eye-rack" and "eye-ran". It's "i-rock" and "i-ron" (Actually it's a tapped "R" but some people just can't do that, so we can let that slide.). How would you feel if Iraqis kept calling us "Ay-meeric-ay"? You'd think they were ignorant and arrogant and you'd be right. Granted they tap the "R" in "America" but then so does the governor of "Cahleefohnia".

A poetical yet sexist notion: A great many women never learn the value of silence. Some men don't either but the misunderstanding seems more pronounced on the female side. This is somewhat ironic since the act of quieting someone with "Shhhhh" is immitating the sound of a mother's heartbeat heard from the womb.

A famous person's public persona tends to eclypse his or her real persona. If someone is a tough guy, I would imagine most people assume that their whole life is tough. Or if someone is pretty, you would think their whole life is pretty. Obviously this can't be true. There are completely banal parts to the most exotic people's lives, just like the rest of us. In a nutshell, what I'm leading up to here is that Jimi Hendrix probably owned a red and white checkered dishtowel. No paisley. No screaming guitar riffs when he used it. Just a plain old dishtowel. I find that interesting.

There is a secret compliment that you can pay to your lover that no one knows about but you. Even your lover won't know. It's a compliment that your subconscious pays them, with or without the permission of your conscious mind. It's when a song that was previously associated in your mind with a former love is reassociate it with your current love.

Things I Don't Understand - Part 5

2007-06-11T16:54:00.001-07:00

Have you ever been walking down the street behind someone who is walking slowly? You want to pass them, but, even though they are not particularly large or doing anything in particular to block the sidewalk, somehow, try as you might, you just can't get around them for some reason. How are they doing that? What is it that is preventing you from walking around them?

Physicists can talk about some really complicated, mind stretching things. They can completely dumbfound some of the most intelligent people. However, in talking about gravitation and what effects what, they will inevitably refer to things as large bodies and small bodies. All matter has gravity, but the significant effects of gravity are only exhibited in large bodies. At what point does a body go from small to large? If it's an either/or situation and not a gradient (nobody ever talks about almost having gravitational effects), that suggests that a single microgram could make the difference between gravity and no gravity. You're floating above an asteroid when a random bit of space dust hits it and suddenly you're plummeting? That can't be right, can it?

I'm on a diet. I was sitting around the house all day the other day. Out of boredom, I weighed myself several times. I watched myself drop a whole pound in the course of a day. In that time, I both ate and pooped. I did not poop excessively--roughly as much as I ate. So where is that mass going? Think about a pound of meat. That's not something that can just evaporate. That's a pound of meat. I don't recall seeing a pound of me lying around my house anywhere. Where'd it go?

Manual transmissions make sense to me. I can picture the gears and what happens to them. Automatic transmissions seem like magic. How does it know what gear it should be in? I can imagine a computer being able to control an automatic transmission, but automatics were invented before computers were small enough to fit under a hood. So how does it know? Hell, sometimes people don't know what gear to be in. How is an inanimate object supposed to know?

How is it possible to work at a perfume counter at a department store for more than an hour or so? Smell is cumulative, meaning that the chemicals that enter your nose, have a finite number of receptors to stimulate. At some point, you will cease to smell anything you are exposed to, unless you stop being exposed to it for a while. So, wouldn't the perfume ladies stop being able to smell their product after a very short time?

Mucus is not water soluble. That's what makes it useful in it's various functions (moisturizing and protecting animal tissue, making slugs icky, etc). Now it's already amazing that we can even produce the stuff at all (a water soluble creature creating a non water soluble substance), but I'm sure that's just some run of the mill chemical process. The baffling part is this : There's not only six billion snot producing humans on this planet, but thousands of other animal species that produce mucus as well, and millions of years of ancestors doing the same thing. Since mucus doesn't really dissolve or degrade like the rest of our biological effluvia does, shouldn't we be knee deep in snot right now?

Let's Alienate the Wimmins!

2007-06-07T12:10:00.000-07:00

I have a controversial thought in my head. A thought so explosive, it requires a preamble. One of the many double standards under which we languish in this culture is...well it's better illustrated than described:

Person speaking in public forum: "I think women are smarter (or any other positive quality) than men."
[audience applauds, cheers, etc]

vs.

Person speaking in public forum: "I think men are smarter (or any other positive quality) than women."
[audience screams in disgust, throws chair, labels speaker as a Nazi, etc]

There is a cultural stigma in the west against criticizing female culture. There are easily understandable factors that cause this. Typically an oppressed population is free to criticize the oppressor but not vice versa. It's a balance thing. This is not the controversial thought I'm bringing up. I'm just laying that as a foundation because my controversial thought goes against the "don't pick on women" thing and if we can circumvent the Pavlovian kill-the-chauvinist reaction, then perhaps we can give this some serious attention and get wiser as a species. Also, I'm not saying that I necessarily think this is true; I just think it's an interesting area of thought that's worth looking into.

Okay here goes:

Why do women tend to talk more than men? Why do women tend to focus so much energy on communication? Why do women not only try to express their feelings, but try to get others to express their feeling as well?

Maybe it's because they're not very good at it.

It's generally assumed that women are more sensitive and more communicative of emotion than men, but could it be that the opposite is true, that men by and large are actually better at expressing their feeling than women? It could be. If something comes naturally to you, you don't tend to talk about; people only tend to talk at length about things that have some sort of uncertainty. There aren't many conversations about how the sky is up or how water is wet. Imagine this scenario: I walk in to my home. Aaron say, "Hey, how's it going?". I say "Meh, work sucked. I wish I didn't have to work.". To which Aaron replies "Yep. Not much you can do.". Sounds like a standard grunty male non-conversation, but we have just communicated effectively and efficiently our current emotional status, our attitudes toward work, our desires for a better world, and acknowledged that we understand and feel for each other. Not only have we made this communication happen, it happened without effort and in a matter of mere seconds, leaving us free to go scratch ourselves and lift heavy things and rehearse complicated handshakes. No obsessing over minutiae. No handholding and processing out loud. Just quickshot, meat n' potatoes, brain-to-brain data transfer. That's some pretty good communication skills.

Now I'm not saying this is true. I am no great fan of my own gender. I am however trying to knock down a prejudice. Prejudices keep us from thinking and, call me crazy, I think thinking is good for you. Perhaps women are better at communicating than men, or maybe men are better at it. Or perhaps, and I think this is more likely, we each have a different style of communication that should be honored and appreciated. The fact that humans communicate at all is pretty cool, doncha think? Hello? Is anybody understanding me?

Vagina Philosophica - The results

2007-05-16T17:23:00.000-07:00

So I managed to get answers from eight vagina owners (I believe they're called 'women'), two on the blog and six in person. We have three in the object camp, three in the location camp, and two of a more abstract bent sitting on the fence. Even steven. Thanks, ladies, you really cleared that up for me. So what have I learned? I learned that I may have lost what little Fonziness I might have once owned. Only eight women willing to talk to me about their verginers? That's pathetic!

So the next quesiton: A vagina is locked in a box with a nutrino. If the nutrino decays, a hammer kills the vagina. If the box remains unopened the vagina must be considered both dead and alive simultaneously, in a state of what would be called quantum flux. In such a state, how long would it take for a theoretical physicist to get laid?

Schroedinger's Pussy! get it?

Due Process and the Juice

2007-05-10T09:53:00.001-07:00

Yes, I realize the following post is dredging up old news. I'm thinking about it because I just read this news story, http://www.huffingtonpost.com/huff-wires/20070509/people-simpson, and it brings up something I never got around to saying while it was still fresh. So here's some social commentary left-overs for you. If you don't like it, we can go out to Sizzler tomorrow night.

Everyone in the US should be happy that O.J. got off. Whether he killed his ex-wife or not is irrelevant. You didn't know her. You don't know him. You weren't there when it all went down and you don't know the facts. What you should be thinking about is how it affects you, and how it affects you is one of the last things that makes me feel any pride about this country: Due Process. After the last two presidential elections, the unwarranted invasion of Iraq, the re-rape of the environment after the great strides made in the 90's I don't have much faith left in the law, the government, or sadly the people of the United States, but due process still works for me. The mechanism by which O. J. was exonerated, whether he did it or not, is the same mechanism by which you or I could potentially be exonerated of a crime that you or I did not commit. Even if O.J. not only did it, but was laughing maniacally the whole time about how he was planning to abuse the legal system and get off scott free, even if he's still laughing, even if every time he swings a golf club he remembers fondly the sound of his knife piercing Nicole's flesh, we should be glad the mechanism exists. If 10 vicious criminals skirt justice by abusing a system designed so that one innocent person does not lose his or her liberty or life that is a price that we should pay happily. It is a flawed system, with loopholes that can be exploited by the rich, and potholes that the poor can fall into, but I'm glad the system is there. Just imagine the alternative.

Truth! - part 7

2007-04-19T11:55:00.000-07:00

The following statements are truer than Truthy McTrutherson from Truthville, North Trutholina. Some Truth may contain peanuts:

I do not want Hillary Clinton to get the nomination for president, and it's not for political reasons. The longer she stays in the race, the more we will hear a certain grammatically incorrect phrase over and over: "First woman president". If I have to hear that for the next two years that is going to drive me into a bell tower with a rifle. "Woman" is not an adjective. The correct phrase is "first female president". Plus she's a warmonger.

Speaking of going ape shit and killing a bunch of people, it is absolutely appropriate and commendable that NBC broadcast the tapes that Cho Seung-Hui recorded before his Virginia Tech killing spree. Despite the public outcry, NBC should be congratulated for their courage and practicality in the face of a very painful reality. We all want to know why people do that sort of thing. We all want to know what separates us from them. "Am I or somebody I know at risk for suddenly snapping like that?" We will never know, if the words of the killer himself are suppressed. You can pin it on a nondescript, abstract evil, like we so love to do (Oklahoma City, Columbine, 9/11), but that is a lazy, self satisfied, and completely impractical stance. If you reduce something like this to morally infantile terms like good and evil, and refuse to look at it square in its horrific face, the real cause goes unexamined and will certainly fester and return to haunt you.

A lot of people disparage the US for spending billions of dollars on a space program, sending gizmos to Mars and such, when people here on earth are starving and living in poverty. They are not wrong. They are, however, incomplete in their rightness. We should be exploring space, we should be expanding our collective minds to encompass the grandeur of the universe, we should be looking for other life and bettering ourselves on a cosmic scale, but we just don't deserve to and that is the tragedy. It is 2007, two thousand FAWKING seven! I never pictured life beyond 2001. We're off my map here. We should be better than this. It brings a tear to my eye to think of where we were supposed to be by now, and look honestly on the hell we have made of the "future". We have the ability to feed every human on the planet many times over, but we are hobbled by greed, religion, ignorance, enforced powerlessness and apathy. We should not fault the scientists for wanting to go into space. We should fault ourselves for not being evolved enough to live up to that noble dream.

I often wonder why people as a rule do not automatically defer to the judgement of those who are obviously more intelligent than them. Then I realize, "Oh yeah, that would be a smart thing to do."

You can make sweeping statements like "An unexamined life is not a life worth living.", and you would be correct, but a more down to earth concern might be "What do people who live unexamined lives do all day? Don't they get bored?".

I think it would be a good world if we dealt with languages like they did in the Star Wars universe. Since alien races all had different vocal apparatuses, and consistent good pronunciation was just plain impossible, no on ever had to learn to speak anybody else's language, they just had to understand it. I can nearly understand many other languages (mostly the European Latin-based ones), but damned if I know what to say back. It would be great if everyone understood every other language, but never had to worry about speaking it. That would eliminate one of the big problems many of us had with Spanish in High School: the whole anxiety about bad pronunciation.

A hard line Muslim might consider me a vassal of the 'Great Satan' for this, but I really like the fact that I live in a culture where women can tell me I'm full of shit.

Vagina Philosophica

2007-03-30T12:15:00.000-07:00

I have an odd, abstract, philosophical question for the owners of vaginas. I was listening to Wanda Sykes doing standup yesterday and she was doing a bit about how great it would be to be able to remove and leave her pussy at home sometimes. I won't go into detail about the jokes, but it got me thinking, if you were to remove your hootie as Wanda described, what would you be removing? I have always thought of it as a container or space, but the space/container is created by the presence of a physical structure surrounding it (labia, vaginal walls, etc). Using the allegory of a cup, when you think of your vagina are you thinking of the the walls of the cup or is it the space inside? Assuming it were detachable, if you were to remove it, would you be removing the outer structure the creates the location, or would you (more abstractly) be removing the location itself? Removal is not my main interest though. The main question is this: What is your ya-ya to you on a psychological, philosophical level? Location or object?

Feel free to call me a pervert if you like, but please post your views on this. I really want to know.

Truth! - Part 6

2007-03-09T16:22:00.000-08:00

The following statements are true. Some of them are even double plus true (triple plus true while drinking victory gin):

Y'know what word you never hear anymore? Mercy. You'll occasionally hear it as an ironic expletive ("Mercy, me!"), but you never seem to hear it in its original meaning. I wonder if it's just an aesthetic/fashionable shift in language, or if it's because the concept is vanishing from our minds. Like how equatorial cultures don't have a word for snow. Have we stopped saying "mercy" because we've stopped practicing it?

If you approach so-called miracles logically, it says some pretty bad stuff about the deity you think is responsible. Say a seven year old child is in a hospital with leukemia. The outlook doesn't look good and the child is considered terminal. The leukemia suddenly goes into remission for no reason. Praise Jaysus, it's a miracle! There's another terminal child in the next bed. His leukemia doesn't go into remission. In fact, nobody else in the entire ward experiences a miracle. So God, omnipotent being, not just powerful, omnipotent, picks one person out of billions of sick people to grant health. Did the others do something wrong? Can a child of seven years old have done anything to either deserve a miracle or deserve a lack of a miracle resulting in agony at the core of his bones? Miracles are, by their very nature, rare. That rarity is the key to a very important concept. Either God is a cruel, torturing, insecure, childish motherfucker, and we are the ants caught in his magnifying glass, or (here we go again) HE DOESN'T EXIST!

My next point is in response to what you're thinking right now (Yes, I'm reading your mind.), if you are a big fan of God and the whole miracle concept. The standard response to this sort of criticism of the big guy is "God works in mysterious ways.". Catholics might also recognize this as one of those "Divine Mysteries" the priests talk about. That's a religious trick as old as religion. Mystery means something you don't know. Saying "God works in mysterious ways" means exactly the same as "I don't know." but it's phrased in a way that makes you sound like you know the answer. "I don't know." states a negative; "God works in mysterious ways." disguises this negative as a positive, and you get to act like you're wise and learned and have the inside track on the mind of your fictional daddy figure. The truth is, your story is not logical, is full of holes and inconsistencies, and no matter how pointy your hat is, you don't know anymore than the rest of us. However, I know one thing that you don't know: There is no such thing as...do I really need to say it again?

While we're at it, the very concept of God is the ultimate avoidance of saying "I don't know.", isn't it. Why is there something instead of nothing? I don't know. See how easy that was?

Okay, I'm on a roll here. Y'know what made me an atheist? MAD Magazine. I can remember the moment it happened. I was about 9 years old, reading MAD, and there was a cartoon with high schoolers where somebody said there are no atheists during finals. I had never heard that word before. I asked my mom what an atheist was and she said "somebody who doesn't believe in God". It hadn't even occurred to me that that was on the menu! That made so much more sense to me than anything I had been taught by parents, priests, or nuns. It took me another 2 years to say it out loud, but from then on, I was an atheist. Thanks, MAD.

Tarot cards work. They are also fake. Seems contradictory, but resolving the contradiction is where the "magic" lies. Skeptics would have you believe that tarot is completely bullshit, essentially because the reasons that most tarot readers give for it working ARE bullshit, or at least inaccurate. Here is how they work, and it's pretty cool: Tarot occasions deep, introspective conversation. It provides an excuse for this introspection to occur. I liken it to party games like Spin the Bottle, or Truth or Dare. Sexy talk and sexy actions are sometimes difficult for people and have a hard time occurring spontaneously. The purpose of Spin the Bottle of Truth or dare is to provide context within which the sexy stuff can easily occur. Tarot works the same way with intense self-evaluation. The cards themselves mean nothing, they're just paper and ink, but the act of the reading and the psychologically weighty imagery on the cards help trick your thoughts you into a mode of reflection. Examining your life is a good thing, and tarot can go a long way to lubricating that process.

A Couple More Not-So-Quick Observations...

2007-03-01T13:13:00.000-08:00

Sex and Violence
We really, really need to stop conflating these two unlike things. I recently saw A Clockwork Orange:Remix at Open Circle Theatre and then had to rewatch the movie from which it was adapted, and it really struck me that if these two activities weren't so unnecessarily tied together in the human consciousness, we would all be much happier and healthier. For the official human record (consider this a corollary to my 'Truth!' columns), violence is a bad thing, sex is a good thing, and there is no no NO reason for them to be equated. To do so is insane. Violence is about making someone feel bad. Sex is about making one or more people feel good. If sex feels bad, something is wrong. Similarly if violence feels good, something is also wrong. The phrase "Sex and Violence" should not exist as an inextricable pairing, but as a pair of opposites like black an white, this and that, or Yin and Yang. This may seem a little overblown, but I think it's actually possible that if sex and violence could be divorced in the minds of all humans, rape would no longer occur. So that's your assignment, readers: Figure out how to correct the thinking of every living person. If you can figure out how to do that...well, I've got some other things I'd like you to work on too.

Thank God
If you win an oscar or a grammy or a golden globe, don't thank God. There are a number of reasons for this. First off, it's conceited to believe that God favored you over all the others that didn't win. Second, unless you were planning on blaming God if you lost, thanking him for the victory has no meaning. Third, a being that can create a nebula, let alone an entire universe, has more interesting things to look at than your shitty movie. Fourth, God does not exist and deep down you know it; you're just afraid to admit it because you think it might be a test of your faith. Fifth, and most important, thank yourself. If you have worked hard enough to master an artistic discipline, if you had the vision to create a piece of art, if you have managed to touch an audience in some way, a fictional deity didn't do that; You did and you desreve to feel good about it. In fact the effort that a limited human artist puts into even the easiest project is far more than what an omnipotent being puts into creating the universe. Even if God did exist and did help, by God's own nature it would be impossible for him to exert effort in doing so. Only the limited can exert effort. Thank yourself. It was your sweat, not God's.

A Quick Observation...

2007-02-02T16:04:00.000-08:00

If people tend to stammer or pause before they say your name, you have an insulting nickname of which you are unaware.

Words and Phrases that Need to Disappear

2007-01-17T16:58:00.000-08:00

Every now and then a word or phrase will become overused. At that point, you must stop using it. In the late 80's "attitude" was a good example. "Busters" as a suffix was another. Here is a current list of things you should really stop saying.

"I got nuthin'."

"Too soon" (in response to a joke about a recent tragedy)

"Wake-up call"

"FYI" (just say "for your informaiton")

"Feedback" (as a euphamism for "criticism")

"Values" (this one actually wore out in the 90's but people still use it)

"I could tell you, but I'd have to kill you"

"High Definition", "Hi Def", and "HD" (when applied to things other than television)

The suffix "aholic" to indicate addiction (a workaholic would not be addicted to work, he'd be addicted to workahol)

"15 minutes of Fame" (this was not coined by Mark Twain or Neitzche or Plato--it was said by Andy friggin' Warhol, who was a hack)

"Savory"

"Angus Beef"

"Carpal Tunnel" (one, it's carpal tunnel syndrome and two, it used to simply be called "my wrist hurts")

That's all I can come up with for now, but I'm sure there's more. Feel free to respond and add your own.

My Wise Friends

2006-12-29T10:19:00.000-08:00

Usually, I run off at the mouth (or the keyboard really) about what I think is important or wise or relevant, but this time I thought it would be nice to try to recall wisdom from other people; not quotes from Mark Twain or the Dalai Lama but people I've actually met. Here then are some wise, funny, or just plain interesting thoughts paraphrased (liberally of course--what am I, a tape recorder?) from friends, family, acquaintances, and people just nearby:

You can look ahead the future and imagine what it's going to be like but no matter how close you get, it's never what you thought it was. It turns out to be something you never even imagined.
-Amanda

Everyone looks good naked. Clothing binds people and when you let that release and stop binding, the natural beauty shines through.
-Kim

Comedians are just drunks, but legitimate drunks.
-Aaron

(In response to my concerns that I would never find love again) Yeah, you might not.
-Emily

It'll be great.
-Paula

The purpose of celebrating a birthday is to let that person know that you were glad they were born. That's a more profound statement that it might seem. "I'm glad you're alive."
-Some priest

(an artist's strategy) Steal, revise, disguise.
-Jo

The appropriate mood at all times for an artist is that of dissatisfaction. That's where the work comes from.
-Carmel

Don't eat margarine or artificial sweeteners. Food that's pretending to be other food is bad for the soul.
-Heather

If it hurts, just keep doing it. It'll eventually stop hurting. That's one way anyway.
-Bob

Nobody cares what your internal feelings are. What are you DOING?
-Some acting teacher

The term "politically correct" was not invented by the politically correct. It was invented by people that didn't want to alter they're behavior and be decent towards one another, so they invented this absurd exaggeration. Then they subsequently added more and more rules to make it seem more absurd. Somebody says "I don't like it when you call me nigger." and the person that said it immediately whines that they're being too "PC" and blows it out of proportion and plays the martyr, when all they really had to do was say "Sorry, I didn't know. I'll stop."
-Linda

Don't go home with Comet (Tavern) trash. (To which I said "But, I'm at the Comet. Doesn't that make me Comet trash?") Yep, sorry.
-Tim

If God is omnipotent, then anything that happens he either caused or allowed to happen.
-Mr. Toner (religion teacher accidentally implying that God either is a prick or doesn't exist)

John, you're brilliant.
-Sarah (heh heh, had to put that one in)

Gender Can Lick My Snatch

2006-12-20T14:24:00.000-08:00

I am sick of gender. I've always been resistant to arbitrary gender rules, broad GENDERalizations as they say, but this week, in light of the furor surrounding Christopher Hitchen's extremely interesting if factually questionable Why Women Aren't Funny article in Vanity Fair, an argument I had with a woman about menopause vs. the male mid-life crisis, and this film showing a woman punching a male comedian (acquaintance of mine) for being offensive, I just cain't stands it anymore. I've been agonizing over this post for some time now. I wanted to put together a cohesive, persuasive, and humorous article, but I'm discovering that I'm too close to the issue. It makes me too angry to properly organize my thoughts and have any sense of humor about the subject (Just to give you some perspective, I would remind you I made jokes while eulogizing my beloved grandmother). Just thought I'd warn you: this article isn't particularly funny or well organized.

Christopher Hitchen's Why Women Aren't Funny article was interesting. I agree with many of the elements of his argument but not necessarily his conclusions. The article itself is not nearly as interesting as the responses from several bloggers. Self-acknowledged not-funny women were pouring out of the woodwork barking about how women were too funny and how dare Hitchens suggest otherwise. The fact is that comedy is about perception, and the manipulation of thought. Like stage magic, there are tools one uses to manipulate the thought processes of the audience and those tools were originally invented by men for men to use in the interest of making men laugh in a male dominated society. This is not to say that women can't be funny--a great many are--but to say that women don't face a particular challenge in using the male tools of humor is like saying lefties don't have trouble using right handed scissors or that I look good in drag. The only "funny" woman that I heard sound off about it was Nora Ephron, who had the most appropriate response I could think of: paraphrased "Chris is a blowhard, yes comedy is difficult for women in a male dominated world, and yet I'm funny, so there."

I think the argument I had the other day regarding menopause vs. the male mid-life crisis was frustrating mostly because it was interrupted. Had we been able to finish, I think we could have come to some agreement. Where we got to was that she thought I was making light of menopause by comparing it to mid-life crises and I was saying she was unreasonably dismissing the male experience by refusing the comparison. Had we been able to continue debating I think we would have got to an important feature in the battle of the sexes: both men and women, at least in western society, are brought up with contradictory messages about themselves. Men are supposedly in charge. This is what I have been told from day one. At the same time, all of popular culture seems to be promoting the idea that anything a man can or will go through is at its core laughable. All men are buffoons. Just look at any sitcom. The man is a fat, stupid, lout and the wife is perfect in every way and a saint for putting up with him. Conversely, women are second class citizens subject to glass ceilings and sexual harassment, constantly fighting for equal treatment. At the same time they are held up as the givers of life, the bearers of children, the only truly important function in society. Plus women get a triple shot: they're told that giving birth, is not only the most important thing they can do, it's the ONLY important thing they can do, and if they don't, they are not real women and are relegated to buffoonland with us guys. Every single one of these messages we get is a lie. No man is always in charge, nor is he always a buffoon. No woman is always powerless, nor is she necessarily a saintly mother goddess. If we can just let this shit go and accept all people as flawed, complex, changing people without these prejudice, maybe menopause can be dealt with with the humor it needs and mid-life crises can be given the gravity and sensitivity men secretly want.

I can't speak to the experience of being female, but there is no good information out there on how to be a good man AND be happy being male. In my life, I can't think of a single instance when I was given any option other than 1) thoughtlessly push people around or 2) feel guilty about being male. The party line is this: men are in charge, men oppress women, by being male you automatically have done this, a good man would never do this and therefore no men are good and you can either feel guilty about your gender or just enjoy being one of those "bad" man. That is no more or less than a complete load of crap and I refuse to carry that around anymore. I have never been in charge of anything, I have never oppressed women, I have never unfairly profited from my maleness except for some upper body strength. Some men have done some things to harm women for which they should be ashamed. But I didn't, and the women who lump me with those men are bigots.

In dealing with gender, I find it immensely useful to imagine them reversed. It helps me get a perspective beyond one's normal perceptions. Never hit a woman. We all know that. But what about women hitting men? Take a look at this film. It's not a very funny stand-up set, but look at it with reversed genders. If it were a man walking on stage and punching a female comedian, even if the man were smaller than the woman, the cops would have been called. The guy would have ended up in jail on an assault charge. But somehow, it's okay for a woman to hit a man. My ex-wife (sensitive topic but you're nice people) hit me all the time, especially when we were about to get divorced. One day, she hit me one time too many, and I yelled "Stop fucking hitting me!" and kicked her. The only time I have ever struck a woman. Suddenly, despite the fact that she had been wailing on me and honestly trying to hurt me all day, I'm now an abusive husband. At least in my own guilt ridden mind and her shocked anger at me. But no one ever called her a husband beater. The image of the woman hitting her husband with a rolling pin was a mainstay of comedy for generations (not so much anymore), but reverse the genders on that. It's now a tear-jerker Lifetime movie of the week starring Valerie Bertinelli. Call me a hippie, but I think hitting others is a bad thing, no matter who you are.

The reversal of gender works for other things too. Objectification is a good one. Submitted for your perusal: A woman is standing alone in front of a car. A man comes out of nowhere. He pushes her down on the hood of the car, tears her shirt off, holds her down and has his way with her. Rape scene. A man is standing alone in front of a car. A woman comes out of nowhere. She pushes him down on the hood of the car, tears his shirt off, holds him down and has her way with him. Cologne commercial. Something is wrong here.

In conclusion, I would like to restate my original point. Gender and our perception of it is at least 95% bullshit. Within that remaining 5% are things like has-a-uterus/doesn't-have-a-uterus, deep-voice/high-voice, bleeds-monthly/doesn't-bleed-monthly. But beyond that, we have more in common as humans than we have differences. It's tough to be a woman. We all know that. It's tough to be a man too. Some people grudgingly acknowledge that. One final point that most people don't talk about is that no woman really knows what any other woman is going through, and no man really knows what any other man is going through. We say we do, but we really don't in any substantial sense. That's why pain management is such a difficult area of medicine; we do not have a reliable mechanism to relay to another person our internal experience of something. If you are going through a bad patch in your life, for all you know, that could be how everybody else feels all the time. The real basic truth is that it's tough to be alive, and no one knows just how tough it is to be you but you.

Things I Don't Understand - Part 4

2006-12-18T16:01:00.000-08:00

Cranes are tall heavy machines. Wouldn't you need a taller heavier machine to build one? How do they build cranes without bigger cranes? Have you ever seen one being built? No, they just show up overnight. Do they just plant magic beans or something?

Imagine something that is hanging off the edge of something else. Now imagine when that thing finally slips off. We've all seen that. What was holding it on before? What changed? Obviously friction was holding it on, but why is there enough friction one second, and then not enough the next?

In art, there is an axiom that there are no original thoughts and if you actually come up with something truly novel, the audience won't understand and won't like it. However, sometime, each of the recognizable conventions had to be a new idea. Somebody had to do it first. So how did those ideas get accepted? Is it just insane persistence with no consideration of audience response? Does the act of introducing a truly novel idea, come down to, no matter how much everyone hates it and hates you for doing it, just keeping it up? That goes against every artistic instinct I have. If your audience doesn't like it, you stop doing it, or the audience will disappear. Right?

The act of snoring is counter to both survival and propagation of the species. It makes you unpleasant to sleep with and therefore less likely to breed and in a primitive setting lets every nocturnal predator know exactly where a defenseless human is sleeping. So why haven't we evolved away from it? I'm pretty sure it's even a dominant trait. What's that about? What's the survival advantage of making horrible throat noises when you sleep?

Is anybody actually good at telling someone else that someone they love is dead?

This may sound like I'm picking on Spanish speakers, but I'm not; I'm sure this occurs in other languages too including English. I'm just exposed to this end of it. In my day job I work in phone customer service. On our phone menu, there is an option to speak to someone in Spanish. However, somehow, I still get people asking "Habla espanol?". If you called a phone line and the recording said "Gorble stang mooky hurlb gorfer tangord spume. For English press 2.", what would you do? You'd press 2, right? So how is it that I still get people asking for Spanish?

While I'm talking shop, what possesses someone to call someone and ask for a phone number without something in hand to write it on and with?

As I understand it, the holiday season lasts from Thanksgiving to New Years. Even if you completely ignore the non-Christian holidays (Hanuka, Kwanzaa, Solstice etc.) that still leaves you Thanksgiving, Christmas, the Feast of St. Nicholas (for the Catholics), and New Years. That's four holidays. So why are the Christian fundamentalists and blowhard republicans claiming that we dirty secularists are waging war on Christmas by saying "happy holidays"? There's more than one holiday. Kindergartners can count to five. Why can't the fundies and rushies count to four? Oh, right, they're stupid.

What's the Difference? - part 1

2006-12-06T15:54:00.000-08:00

Y'know what has consistently gotten me in trouble over the years? There are things in this world that are almost the same as one another, that are considered different due solely to baseless prejudices and petty hairsplitting. I, in my lifelong pursuit of truth and honesty, have frequently said that I don't see much difference between such things. To which, the inevitable response is [imagine an annoyed 14 year old girl] "(sigh) No, they're tewwwwtally different. Guyyy!". Well, folks, I've got a forum now for whatever crap leaks from my over sized melon, and I no longer care that making spurious connections between unlike things is a symptom of schizophrenia. Here, then, is the first in a series of columns about things that are supposed to be different but really aren't.

Part 1 : Cowboys and Homeboys

Country Western music and Hip Hop are the same thing. Or rather, they are the same phenomenon, serving the same psychological purpose. Here's a test: Which one am I describing?

A popular music form, dominated by males, designed to reinforce the status quo of a specific racial and economic demographic, originally written, performed, and appreciated only by the poor and disenfranchised but recently absorbed by pop culture and multinational corporations, now often performed by millionaires, and appreciated by even the upper strata of society, whose subject matter consists of delusions of grandeur, acquisition of sex and material possessions from a formerly impoverished state, simultaneous celebration and lamentation of substance abuse, jingoistic us-against-them sentiments, lamentation of failures, celebration of meager accomplishments, boasting about circumventing the law, loving descriptions of firearms, and the celebration of one's vehicle of choice.

So which one am I describing? If you said both, you would be right. So what's the difference? Black and white (or rather brown and pink), urban and rural. That's all. Pretty petty distinction if you ask me.

Truth! - part 5

2006-11-17T09:20:00.000-08:00

The following statements are true:

There is no "R" in Washington. If you pronounce it "Warshington" you are saying it wrong.

"Marlene" is the only name ending in "lene" that doesn't make you sound like trailer trash.

There is no third "i" in mischievous. The word is only three syllables long: mis - chi - vuss.

What a person assumes about others is very telling about what they're like. If a person assumes that everyone else is trying to manipulate them, it's a fair bet that said person is manipulative. If a person tends to assume the best about others, he or she is probably a decent human being. Following this line of thinking, homophobes are a truly dangerous lot. If someone assumes that homosexuals are predators and child molesters, what does that say about that person's relationship to their own desires? Why would someone assume that just because a person is attracted to a certain gender, that person would necessarily have no concept of or respect for consent? Because that is true for the assumer. He's a potential rapist. I realize that's a very broad statement to make but an unpleasant truth is truth nonetheless.

Speaking of homophobes and hypocrites, the scathingly ironic scandals that always seem to surround conservatives are cliche and poorly written. Or at least they would be if they were fiction. The guy that says all drug offenders should go to jail forever is doing 30 Oxycontin a day, a number that makes most drug users gasp. The guy who ran the committee to protect children from gay Internet predators, who practically coined the term "What about the children?", habitually sends dirty predatory emails to his underage male interns. The most outspoken anti-gay evangelist in the country is getting it on with a male prostitute who also sells him crystal meth. Even all the way back to Reagan. Mr. Law-and-Order had more of his staff brought up on criminal charges than any other president in history. If I were an English teacher grading this as a story, I would give it a D and write at the top "There is such a thing as over-use of irony.".

The term "Samaritan" has been grossly distorted by bible thumpers who have never read the bible. It's now commonly understood as "do-gooder" due to the Parable of the Good Samaritan. The point of the parable is that good works come not from high caste holier-than-thou types, but from humble people who care about other people. The Samaritans were unpopular, dirty, marginalized, uncultured, poor people. The reason the story had any meaning was that no one would have expected a nasty old Samaritan to show some decency and help someone, especially when the rich man and the priest wouldn't. It's a story about breaking down classist prejudices, not reinforcing them.

While we're at it, "The left hand does not know what the right hand is doing" has been misappropriated as well. It has now come to be an accusation of disorganization and poor communication. It was originally a metaphor for humility in charitable works. Paraphrased, Jesus said "When doing good works, don't brag about it. Be so humble about it, that you don't even acknowledge to yourself that you are doing it. Don't even let your left hand know when your right hand does good works.". It was originally a call to humility and has become an arrogant admonition of others. The ability to take a positive message and distort it into its opposite, seems to be one of the only instances in which religious folks demonstrate consistency.

There is no God. (wow, John, that's a bit abrupt) There is no reason to believe there is. There has never been a reason to believe there is. There may be something grand and infinite and transcendent at the root of all existence, but that is not a sentient being who has desires and plans and motivations. Those are human qualities and humans are a very very very very VERY small portion of all there is (we're even smaller than that, but for the sake of brevity I limited myself to five "very"s...well, six now). We are only one variation in an infinite number of combinations of an infinite number of variables. Come out of the closet, Atheists, Agnostics, and Nontheists! You're right! I know that you try to respect others' beliefs, but if one or ten or a hundred billion people say that 2 plus 2 equals 5, it's not disrespectful to point out that it's actually 4.

Well, that got pretty heavy, there didn't it? I should probably end with something a bit lighter...uhhhhhh...

"I don't believe in luck" is a nonsensical statement. Luck is synonymous with "circumstance" or "the way things work out". It's nice to believe in yourself and have the fortitude to pursue your goals, but to not believe in "the way things work out", to believe that there is no context in which you exist and that external forces have no effect on your actions is beyond absurd; it's delusional.

The Greatest Country On Earth

2006-10-20T13:24:00.000-07:00

My fellow Americans,

There's a turn of phrase that keeps popping up and it needs to go away: "America is the greatest country on earth". You hear this said by American politicians in speeches not just to US citizens but in foreign countries as well. You hear it from comedians, just before they criticize something in the US culture. You here it from knee-jerk patriots in cowboy hats, saying it...well, just cuz. You folks need to knock that shit off. Now I know that many of you are, in reflexive Pavlovian fashion, raring back with your standard repost to this sort of thing: "You should thank god you're in a country that allows you the right to say things like that.". First off, if your willingness to speak your mind is contingent upon the government allowing you to do so, you don't know what freedom is. Second, to refuse to criticize the country, because it's such a great country, because it allows you to criticize it, is strained logic worthy of Lewis Carroll. Thirdly, this is my blog so shut the fuck up and listen for a change.

You need to stop saying in public that the US is the greatest country in the world. Not because it's not true, but because it's rude and arrogant. Take a look at the allegory below:

[we're at a big party. People are talking and laughing and having a good time]

Person 1: Hey, John, how's it going?

John: Oh pretty good. How bad can it be? After all I am the smartest person at this party.

Person 1: Uh, yeah. So what's been going on? Haven't seen you in a while.

John: Oh, y'know being smart. Doing smart things. Staying away from the dumb things that you do. I am after all the smartest person at this party.

Person 1: Right. I'm gonna go over here now.

John: Sure thing. Hey if you need the answer to anything just ask. I am smarter than you y'know.

Person 2: Hey, John, have you seen Bob? I can't find him.

John: I don't know where he is. But that doesn't mean I'm not the smartest person here. He's probably off doing dumb things because he's not as smart as me.

Host: Hey, everybody! I have an announcement to make!

John: Yes, yes, we all know, I'm the smartest person here. Thank you for recognizing that fact, but you didn't have to go to any trouble. I know it must be hard for you to understand things like that, not being as smart as me and all.

Host: Actually the neighbors are complaining about the noise, so just try to keep it down.

John: Oh, you silly not smart people. I knew to keep my voice down, because I'm smart. The smartest person at this party in fact. I feel bad for you because these basic smart concepts elude you. How do you survive without my tremendous intellect? etc etc...

See, what I mean? John may genuinely be the smartest person at the party--who knows?--but his attitude is arrogant, conceited, rude, and something that would (and should) get his ass kicked. Also, it should be pointed out, if John continues to congratulate himself on his superior intelligence, he will cease to engage in auto-critique and never feel the need to get any smarter; life is fluid and nothing stays on top of the heap without willingness to change to meet new challenges. Similarly, the United States may in fact be the greatest country on earth, but whether it is or isn't, constantly reminding everyone of that fact does no good to anyone. In fact it harms. It makes everyone else hate us and it stops us from ever wanting to achieve greatness beyond our current level.

Masturbation and Prepositions

2006-10-16T15:49:00.000-07:00

Masturbation has a preposition problem.

When discussing pleasuring oneself, if one were inclined to discuss such a thing (not me certainly as I am far too genteel), one is invariably presented with a choice of prepositions and no set rule by which to choose. This applies to all euphemisms and slang terms for masturbation as well. Say you have an erotic image, be it material or mental . Do you jack off ABOUT it? Do you beat off ON it? Do you spank your monkey TO it? Do you punish the bishop BECAUSE OF it? Do you abuse yourself AT it? Do you jill off FOR it? Do you slap your tuna WITH it? What is the verbophile wanker to do to gracefully express his or her self love? Here's a preposition proposition to help guide our usage: TO we can reserve for audio/visual media as it implies a real-time relationship. ON we can use for print media, photos, paintings, or written word as they appear to have a surface for something to be ON. ABOUT can be applied to thoughts or memories. FOR tends to imply that you have a person with you (stripper, jack buddy or circle jerk, voyeur victim, phone sex operator). AT, being locational in nature, shall be reserved for men and ejaculatory women only and shall be used for all material objects at a distance, audio/visual media, print media, photos, and other people, to indicate the motion of a bodily fluid toward that object. WITH would have two uses. 1) When the stimulation is derived from direct contact with the object and 2) with audio/visual media, similar to the usage of TO but implying that your pleasure is synchronized with the subject(s) of the media. BECAUSE OF shall not be used as 1) it is extremely clumsy and inelegant syntax and such a healthy, joyous act should only be spoken of with aplomb and 2) it implies that the act is someone else's fault and there ain't nobody wackin' it but you, ya dirty birdie.

Truth! - part 4

2006-10-06T13:59:00.000-07:00

The following statements are true. Anything that seems less than true is probably a hallucination, you party animal, you:

The maternity and childbirth industry is based, not just on assisting the furtherance of the species, but also on obscuring the truth about childbirth. The iconography in particular is a good example. It's all storks and soft smiling babies and ornate baby carriages and all manner of softness and niceness. Depending on who you talk to, this world either has a mild overpopulation problem or a "holy shit it's monstrous" overpopulation problem. People would have less children if the maternity industry changed their iconography to be more honest about the process: crying babies, blistered nipples, stretch marks, huge distended vaginas, graphic depictions of episiotomies, all manner of "cheesy substances" as the medical books call them. We're not primitive people that will mistake our child for food anymore. I think we're evolved enough to handle some honesty.

Putting seat covers on public toilets is pointless. There is no germ that could survive indefinitely on a toilet seat without a human host that's going to be stopped by a piece of paper. Conversely, there is no germ that could be thwarted by a piece of paper that could live outside of a human host. Also, ask yourself, what part of you touches the seat. It's not your anus or your genitals or any other unprotected body part. It's your buttocks, a fully skin-covered, sanitarily sealed slab of flesh, no more sensitive to germs than your shoulder or your forearm or the middle of your back.

There is a great deal of denial that goes into eating healthy. Brown rice is not delicious. It'll do for nutrition, but it's not delicious. Claiming that brown rice and fruit sweetened desserts and carob and soy cheese and garden burgers taste as good or better than fried food, butter, processed sugar, wheat, and non-soy real dairy cheese is a transparent and pathetic lie. The greatest culinary scientists in human history have devoted their collective intelligence to making the bad-for-you food taste better, because if you eat it they make money. That's just the facts. Claiming that health food tastes better is like claiming that third world sweat shop labor isn't cheaper. It is. It's horrible, but it is cheaper (for those of us that don't work there anyway). Eating healthy is a great thing to do, but you don't have to lie about it.

To my ear, Vietnamese often sounds fake. Like they're just making up an Asian sounding language. Don't know why.

Sunshine does not automatically make a "nice day", any more than a pretty face automatically makes a nice person. If the sun is shining, and the sky is blue, but it's 20 below 0, it's not a nice day. It's fuckin' cold!

Halloween is about death and evil and fear. It's a time when we take back these negative feelings and celebrate our ability to triumph over them. Like black men calling each other nigger or gay men calling each other faggot. It should therefore not be cute, but joyously horrific, like Rob Zombie's id. The smiling happy jack o'lantern, the smiling happy scarecrow, the cute black kitten, the pretty little girl dressed as a pretty little witch, all that Hallmark crap has gotta go. Mind you I'm a bit of a ghoul year round, but this isn't about my personal taste. It's about remembering why you're dressing up in the first place, and not fearing the darkness.

Listening to your I-Pod in public seems rudely unsociable in some situations, but if you think about it, it's not any more rude than reading a book in public.

People often pay lip service to how difficult it sometimes is to do the right thing. I never understood this because it seemed exceedingly simple to do the right thing; dishonesty requires maintenance, hatred requires energy, hurting people requires effort. However, I've learned it's not that the act of doing the right thing is hard, it's that the consequences of doing the right thing are hard to endure. Many good people miss opportunities for wealth and position simply because they refuse to step on others.

Photographic realism, and naturalism in art are all very interesting, but not artistically (my definition of artistic). They're interesting in the same way juggling and acrobatics are interesting. You don't necessarily experience the emotional content and the expression of the artists so much as you sit back and say "Wow! How do they do that?".

A Minor Irritation

2006-09-28T12:44:00.000-07:00

This is bugging me. It's not socio-political. It's nothing that really makes a difference in the world. In fact, I'll admit, it is nothing but petty, verbophilial hair-splitting, but it bugs the holy fucking hell out of me:

On the bag of Pirate's Booty (a relatively healthy cheese puff snack made by Robert's American Gourmet in case you didn't know), there are several thought bubbles coming out of their product logo character, a dashing pirate complete with eyepatch and parrot. The thought bubbles read "Crunchy", "Shiver me timbers", "Yo ho ho", and (here it is) "Thar be good". "Thar be good"? THAT MAKES NO SENSE! Translated into common English, that means "There is good". Unless they are making an abstract statement that there is in fact goodness in the world, that statement is syntactical nonsense. It seems like some sort of variation of "Thar she blows" which isn't even a pirate saying, but a whaler saying.

A message to Robert's American Gourmet: Making delicious healthy snacks is not enough. Read more books, buy a dictionary, and if you don't understand something ask a grownup.

Laws That You Weren't Aware Of

2006-09-20T17:27:00.000-07:00

It is a law that all alcohol and drug treatment facilities must have insipid names (Serenity Meadows, Clean Horizons, Starting Points, Inspiration Ranch). That's how you tell if you have a drug or alcohol problem: If you don't find the names nauseating, you're fucked up and need help.

It is a law in all major cities that in the poorer neighborhoods, the back row of seats on city busses must at all times contain one of the following: A woman talking about how her children were taken away by CPS, a woman talking about her kids in a way that would get them taken away by CPS, an obviously broke person telling someone else how to handle their money, or two or more teenagers talking at high volume.

It is a law that at some point between the age of 8 and 14 all girls must contemplate changing the spelling of their names.

By recent ordinance, it is a law that all families who make under $30,000 per year, if they have one or more male child, must name at least one of them something that rhymes with "Aiden" (Braden, Jayden, Hayden, etc).

It is a law that models who model inexpensive clothing must wear as much of the clothing as possible. Conversely, it is the law that models who model expensive clothing must wear as little of the clothing as possible. Models for the most expensive clothing on the market, must be naked.

It is a law that any Whole Foods store must contain at least four lesbians at all times.

It is a law that any independently owned health food store must contain at least one person that looks absolutely terrified of something that only they know.

It is a law that during any night of Karaoke at some point a minimum of three drunk women in their early 20's must sing a song with their arms around each another.

It is a law that all airport security stations must have on staff one short, overweight, angry looking woman.

It is a law that within the city limits of all incorporated municipalities in the continental United States, at least one movie theater must be playing a movie featuring an African-American man dressed as a woman.

It is a law that all drag queens must be surly.

It is a law that persons bearing any of the following job titles are required to smell oddly pleasant: Baker, Dental Hygienist, Second Grade Teacher, Used Book Seller, Massage Therapist, Waitress or Waiter in an Italian Restaurant, Waitress (but not Waiter) in a Japanese Restaurant, Buddhist Monk, Veterinarian.

It is a law that downhill skiers must cultivate a nonspecific disdain for things in general. Cross Country (Nordic) skiers are not affected by this law.

It is a law that persons of a religious inclination must frequently miss the point.

It is a law that all fisherman, when asked about their catch, must make a full disclosure and offer a conjecture as to why.

By law, accountants are guaranteed the right to be interesting people, but only by special license.

You are required by law to laugh it at his article.

Things For Which You Should Be Able to Be Excused From Work/School

2006-09-13T15:10:00.000-07:00

1) Ennui
2) Girl Trouble
3) Boy Trouble
4) "My morale is in the crapper."
5) "We were out of coffee and it just set me off for the whole day."
6) Sudden artistic inspiration
7) In love
8) Dumped
9) Dog looks kinda lonely
10) Too sunny
11) Too rainy
12) Person in bed with you just looks toooooo good
13) Suddenly realized you're mentally only 8 years old
14) "My bed is like a womb and you have no right to pull me from this paradise."
15) Up late reading (come on, that's self improvement!)
16) Premonition of impending doom
17) Need some exercise and typing just doesn't cut it
18) Song stuck in head all night prevented any quality sleep
19) Person in next cubicle's grating voice is driving you batshit
20) Suspicions of voodoo curse
21) Full moon last night, you're a werewolf, and you're tired
22) That flute's not going to learn to play itself
23) "I hate my job and all my coworkers and a day off might make me hate them less."
24) "That news story really freaked me out."
25) The suspicious number of coincidences yesterday bear investigation
26) Brilliant idea in dream was interrupted by alarm and you need to try to get back to that dream and write it down. The future of space travel is hanging in the balance, damn it!
27) Embarrassed because you did/said something stupid yesterday
28) Did something really cool and need to do some struttin'.
29) That racist thought just won't leave your head and you shouldn't go to work thinking shit like that.
30) Sex injury

The Sex Column

2006-08-29T16:46:00.000-07:00

...Which is an appropriately Freudian title.

How can I put this delicately? I, uh...got a...thang goin' on with, um...somebody, and I find my thoughts drifting southward in a zipperly direction. However, after a protracted period of self imposed semi-celibate contemplation, my thoughts are of a decidedly different and more complex flavor than they were before. At least I think they are. Here then, are some poorly organized thoughts of a crotchal bent:

Sex is viewed by people as many things: passionate, sacred, icky, predatory, sinful, magical, joyous, and many more. However, I've never heard it described, at least in any public forum, the way (one way) I like to think of it. I like to think of it as two (or more I suppose) people getting together and fiddling with their genitals in childlike, innocent fun. Joyous after a fashion, but with a mischievous giggle and feeling of "secret play time". When viewed like that, it takes away the prejudices and assumptions that can make sex so emotionally turbulent. It puts it on your terms and your terms only. It opens up possibilities of acceptable behavior that were unattainable before: You can be monogamous or polyamorous, gay or straight or bi or any combination you want, intimately emotional or coldly mercenary, deeply in love or just friends, penetrative or nonpenetrative. Since it's a just a fun game between your and your partner's inner children, the "rules" are whatever you make them. I like that view.

(this thought is courtesy of my friend Kim) All people look good naked. Hard to grok that, I know, but it's true. Clothing binds people into shapes to which their bodies are not naturally inclined. Without the restrictions of clothing, the body returns to it's natural shape and the innate beauty of even the "ugliest" people comes through. Not everybody is gorgeous naked, but everybody's natural beauty shows itself when nude.

I don't believe in "foreplay". Not in the sense that I'm one of those guys that just wants to stick it in; I leave that to the religious fundamentalists and repressed homosexuals. No, I mean that the term "foreplay" implies that everything you do prior to sticking the dick in the hole is just prep for sticking the dick in the hole and that sticking the dick in the hole is the inevitable result. It could be that my opinion on this subject comes from having dated and slept with a number of lesbians, but if you are doing something, you should be doing that as well as you can, not just using it to get to the next activity. Think about it this way: If foreplay exists, then no lesbian ever has sex. Sex is not just penetration. It's a whole spectrum of activities from kissing to fisting, all of which, if done well, can be ends in themselves not just build-up to coitus.

One reasons for promiscuity? The sneaking suspicion that this will the last time you have sex, because you can never figure out what exactly you did to get into this situation in the first place.

Why is cocksucker an insult? There are certainly worse things you could do to somebody. It's actually a pretty nice thing to do. The kind of thing you hope somebody will do on your birthday. Really, if you're a polite person, you'll say thank you afterwards. I separate my exes into good exes and bad exes. On the list of bad ones, not a cocksucker in the bunch. On the good list, cocksuckers each and every one of them. Now I'm not saying that's what makes them good or bad exes. It's just that cocksucking and decency seem to go hand in hand. What can I say, I'm a romantic.

Advice for men: Do you want more head? I have a solution. You may say "ewwww" but bear with me. Get out there and suck some dick yourself. This works for two reasons. First, you then have ammunition to refute anything your mate says about it if she starts offering excuses that aren't actually true. For example: It's gross. Gross? Hardly. It's like sucking a thumb (or if he's big, an elbow). Second, it gives you an insight into what she's going through and may redefine your demands, expectations and boundaries. For example, I came to the conclusion that I don't like to swallow or have jiz in my mouth, so therefore I don't expect anybody else to. The rest of it though? The rest of it is the least they can do.

While I usually defer to the broad variety of humans' personal tastes, there seems something very wrong about not wanting to perform oral sex at least in some form. An indication that something else is wrong. Maybe my drive to do it is exaggerated (my mouth is watering just writing about it), but it seems to me the most natural reaction to arrousal is "get my face down there!". Nearly as natural as the humping instinct. Not liking oral sex is as weird to me as not liking chocolate.

In my experience in order for a person to be good in bed, they have to be at least good looking enough to have had some experience but not so good looking that they never had to try. The very good looking can be surprisingly lame in bed.

They say that men think about sex every ten minutes or thereabouts. This is insultingly absurd. There is no way to measure that. Once you start thinking about how often you think about something, you think about it all the time. It's a myth designed to propagate the false image that men are nothing but stupid and carnal. Some of us are quite smart and sweet. No really.

Jeez, I keep thinking of new sex thoughts. I think I'm going to have to make this a multi-parter.

"Captain Liberty: Why do you always hide behind sex?"
"Bat Manuel: I can't help it. It's so big."
- The Tick

Things I Don't Understand - Part 3

2006-08-24T13:09:00.000-07:00

What's the deal with gay men and Judy Garland? I've asked, I've read, I've researched, and I can't seem to find an answer that couldn't easily be applied to numerous other stars, some of them even more appropriate. The standard response is the she had a rough life and still maintained her poise and dignity, or something to that effect. 1) That's not specific. The same thing could be said about a million other people. 2) It's not true. She hit stardom at an early age, had all the sex, drugs, and booze anybody could ever want, never had to deal with crippling poverty, and as far as poise and dignity goes, check out her later Christmas specials where she's about as sane and sober as a naked toothless Margot Kidder. Is it just about "Somewhere over the Rainbow" where Dorothy's lamenting how she feels hopelessly out of place in Kansas? Once again, not specific. Hell, that could describe Superman (a much better gay icon in my mind). Could they possibly be confusing her with Frances Farmer? Now there's a model for dealing with oppression and calamity within the Hollywood shit-twister; keep fighting and mouthing off until they lobotomize you. Much better than drinking yourself to death for no particular reason.

Why won't people shut up about Snakes on a Plane? Why am I even mentioning it? What the hell's wrong with me?

Women have internal genitalia and therefore less room to spare internally. And yet, they tend to have slightly larger bladders than men. Why is that?

Why aren't all bicycle "girl bikes"? All boys at some point slip and rack themselves on the cross bar. It's as inevitable as dawn. If the bikes that don't have the crossbars ride just fine, and the crossbars inevitably cause the horror of intense nut pain in half the population, why have the crossbars on any bikes? Some sort of rite of passage?

Who thought the Pointer Sisters were sexy, what were they smoking, and where can I get some? I've done a thing or two in my life but I've never been THAT high. Rod Stewart too.

Why is the music played in gay dance clubs structured the way it is? Supposedly the purpose of the music and dancing is to get all horned up in preparation for the hot man-sex. So why does it lack a peak (ie orgasm)? Why is it most often repetitive and rather even-keel? Why does it not follow the pattern of the male sexual response which you could visualize as pear-shaped (building wider and wider until it hits a certain critical mass and then rapidly receding)? Gay disco music actually imitates the female sexual response pattern which is a series of long plateaus (at least according to Susie Bright). You'd think that subliminal injection of the female sexual pattern would inspire a big ol' softy in the man zone. Apparently just the opposite though. How does that work?

Why don't we have solar panels on every available flat surface in cities? Seems an obvious power source to me. High office buildings, lots of surface area, not being used for any other purpose, come on it's a natural! And while we're at it, it's 2006. Where's my flying car?

Are there fundamentalist Christians that have actually read the bible cover to cover? And if so, how do they justify the numerous contradictions?

"I believe that deep down humans are good and worthy beings". That's what I often think. But when you really get down to it, I know that 80% of people aren't worth the paper their printed on. Most people don't even have the intelligence to recognize that as a metaphor and would probably think I actually believe people are printed on paper. I know this, and cynically act out of this lack of faith in humanity on a minute to minute basis. But still, on the surface of my mind, this naive and indefatigable faith in the innate greatness of humanity floats like a non-degradable styrofoam cup in a puddle. I assume, that no one is really evil and no one acts out of malice, only ignorance which isn't their fault. That all of us have the same potential for intelligence and that most just don't know how to apply it or think that they can. So on to what I don't understand: I have an unshakeable faith in something that I know is not true. What kinda whackjob am I?

A Number of Unrelated Thoughts

2006-08-22T09:46:00.000-07:00

Part 1 : Confession
I don't believe in hell as such, but I have thought of a scenario in which a hell-like situation could be experienced. Dying, physiologically speaking, is a gradual process. There is the possibility that the part of your brain that experiences the passage of time could die before your memories. You would then be trapped perceptually in a subjective eternity, with the memories of all the evil, thoughtless, or just plain embarrassing things you've done in your life replaying over and over in an infinite loop. In light of this, I need to get something off my chest, in the hope it will stop haunting me. Back in the 90's I made a mean-spirited and politically naive statement on a protest sign about Newt Gingrich when he came to town. It was based on nothing more than a knee-jerk dislike of republicans, and a desire to impress a girl with my confident political extremity. The sign said "Newt is the modern Hitler". That was a dumb thing to write, it was not true, and every time I see Newt in the news, I cringe at how lame I was. Hell, I'd take Newt any day over the Bush and Cheney super-villain team up. But then, Hunter S. Thompson, near the end, said he'd rather have Nixon than Bush, so make of that what you will.

Part 2 : Artist = Superhero
Superheroes are (among many other parallels) a great model for the life of an artist. This may seem a little over blown, but hear me out. We have a skill or skills, that most people do not have. Some of us are born with it (Superman), some get it through intense training (Batman), some are given it through nepotism (Green Lantern), and some through a series of circumstances (Plastic Man). Some people are envious and admiring of our skills (The Fantastic Four and The Justice League), and some people consider us freaks and sinners (The X-Men and The Doom Patrol). Some artists manage to make a living at their art through sponsorship or government grants (The Avengers), where some artists have to have a day job in order to survive (Spider-Man). The majority of artists are unable to do it professionally. This unfortunate majority are sometimes motivated by fun, but more often are motivated by a sense of duty and destiny ("With great power comes great responsibility." = "I make art because I have to."), and are more often than not, completely misunderstood by the people at their day job. The non-artist and non-superhero can go to their job, do their work, and go home; the artist/hero has to do the same except at the end of the work day, they are driven (often against their will) to fill another, more difficult and taxing, role. We have all the same needs as other people (food, shelter, clothing, love, friendship, security), but we also have another psychological need that is as real as the others: Superman doesn't save the world because it's fun; he does it because the world needs him to.

Part 3 Dogs, Cats, and Vocabulary
There is no way to say who is smarter, dogs or cats. There are too many variations in types of intelligence. Personally, I think it's dogs, but I understand all the arguments to the contrary. One things that people bring up is vocabulary. Cat people say that cats have a larger vocabulary. Oddly dog people say the same thing about dogs. After being rather confused by this contradiction, I did some research on the subject and found out a solution that is very telling about the psychology of cat people vs. dog people. Cats have a larger spoken vocabulary, and a smaller understood vocabulary. Dogs have a smaller spoken vocabulary, but a larger understood vocabulary. That is why cats can make a more complex series of sounds to indicate their needs, but stare at you as if you were a lava lamp when you try to tell them something. It also explains why your dog can understand very complex instructions or messages, but can't express themselves beyond a few barks or whines. So this, then, is very telling about the psychology of cat people and dog people. In general, cat people consider speaking to be the more important part of communication, whereas dog people consider listening to be more important. I've tried to express this to cat people, but they just don't listen.

Truth! - Part 3

2006-08-14T16:45:00.000-07:00

The following statements are true. If you question their veracity, the terrorists win:

Most people are just pretending to be adults.

Language is a fluid and evolving structure. It is good that it should be so. Grammar, correct pronunciation, and knowing the official definitions of words or phrases, however, serve one vital function that should not be forgotten. Most educators don't know what that function is which is why these rules seem arbitrary. The function they serve is to make sure that people aren't talking without thinking about what they say. When you stop thinking about what you say and why you say it, you become susceptible to lies, misunderstandings, propaganda, coercion, and myriad varieties of verbal sleight of hand. You become less aware and therefore less human.

Babies and pets are viewed by grocery stores as roughly the same type of creature. You can tell by the way baby food and pet food are marketed, shelved, and sequestered within the store. One aisle each.

If it's made of plastic, you should not be able to call it a Tonka toy. If you can't beat the other kid in the sandbox to death with it, it's not Tonka.

Nerf used to make foam balls and nothing else. Now they primarily make guns. I think that's sad.

Most people don't put much value in missing somebody. It's just an inconvenience that will eventually pass. You shouldn't devalue the fact that you have someone to miss.

Stage magic foments cynicism. I would daresay all magicians and would-be magicians started doing magic because they wanted just that: to REALLY do magic. Then we learn tricks and find out that it's just about fooling people. Magic may look amazing to the audience, but from the back, where the magician is, it looks ridiculous, and frankly it's amazing to me that people fall for it. Every time I do some coin or card trick to distract a child or impress a drunk, part of me sighs at how sadly gullible people are. I never wanted to lie to people; I wanted magic.

The baseball cap needs to go away. If the brim is forward, you look boring. If it is backward, you look like a dork. If it's sideways or at any angle between 0 and 180 degrees, you look like a retard. So take 'em off boys. Cowboy hats too (except when worn in irony).

A sign that an aging lothario has finally hit a degree of maturity, is when he suddenly becomes attracted to people solely because they're decidedly unimpressed with his bullshit. Gaining a measure of maturity, while a good and desirable turn of events, nevertheless creates two difficulties: 1) He ceases to respect those that like him, because they're obviously stupid and 2) He becomes exclusively drawn to people who don't like him, because obviously those people are smart. Picture Fonzie at 50, driven to a life of desperate loneliness, because of this double bind. Sad, sad, sad.

You cannot defeat terrorism. Not because it's a superior opponent, but because it's not an opponent at all. It's a tactic. To be specific it's not even a tactic. It's a category of tactics. Attacking terrorism, in retaliation for a terroristic attack is like, in retaliation for Pearl Harbor, declaring war on air travel in general, and not questioning where the planes came from and why they attacked.

I have probably witnessed around 50 large fireworks displays in my life, but I can only picture about 5 specific types of fireworks. As of this moment, I've decided I'm sick of fireworks. Earthquakes? Now your talkin'.

People who sing along with their walkman or IPod or other earphone device should be whacked on the nose with a rolled up newspaper. Hit them sharply on the nose and say in a firm voice, "No".

Cat callers, on the other hand, men that loudly extol the physical virtues of the woman that just walked by, as if they had never seen a woman before should be given an award. Since they are obviously not doing it for the woman's benefit or their own, but are in fact doing it to demonstrate their healthy libido to the people around them, they should get what they desire. Loudly stop everything and with great ceremony and adulation present them with a trophy celebrating the glory of their adequately functioning penis.

On the Death of my Grandmother

2006-08-02T10:05:00.000-07:00

My grandmother died last week.

And for the record she did not pass away, pass on, cross over, or expire like a magazine subscription and she was not, god forbid, born into eternity. Like the sensible intelligent woman she was, she died. I had thought that I should eulogize her in some way, and I've been trying to think all week (away from a reliable computer) of what I would say. My perspective of her is somewhat narrow. People ask "Were you close?", and I don't really have a solid yes or no for that. As far back as I can remember, when Christmas would roll around, I would spend the weekend before at her house making candy for family and friends. That was my Christmas, even moreso than gifts and trees and Santa Claus. In that time she never judged or disparaged me, but accepted whatever I was wearing, wherever I was pierced, what color my hair was, and what I was doing with my life. Apart from Christmas though, I never saw her. I didn't call her or come visit. She rarely told me stories about her life, and looking back I realize I didn't know much about her apart from my candy-making relationship with her and that I liked her. So were we close? I guess you can judge that for yourself.

One thing though, that did occur to me was that the mourning process is not about the dead. It is about the living dealing with loss. Here then, in my usual short-attention-span, "toilet reading" style, are some observations, not about Grandma, but about things I was thinking during the week we buried her:

People under stress revert to habitual patterns. Some of the patterns are positive, some negative. These patterns reach farther and deeper, and I daresay more abstract than you would think. Gender roles are a big one. In dealing with the prep for the service, I, the only male in the house , was not to be trusted within the house. I, despite my degree in fine art, my lifelong commitment to intellectual, aesthetic and mystical pursuits, and the utter lack of calluses on my hands, was sent out to clean up the yard, just like when I was a kid.

"Bereavement" doesn't sound right. Since the verb form is "bereave", it sounds like the noun form should be "bereaf".

My sister, the reserved, buttoned-down, polite Mormon lady farts loudly and a lot.

Catholics and sheep farmers need to have some sort of conference on the real nature of sheep. Since Grandma was among other things a sheep farmer, the funeral service invoked much of the lamb and sheep and good shepherd imagery that you find in the bible. People that don't have much interaction with sheep apart from movies and seeing them cleaned up at the fair seem to have this idea that a sheep is a big cotton ball with hooves, as clean as a Q-Tip. There's a reason anthrax came originally from sheep: They're filthy, smelly, unsanitary animals. They are also stupid. They're smarter than turkeys, but just barely. I'd think Catholic sheep farmers would have a hard time feeling good about themselves.

Everyone has problems. In fact I'd go so far as to say everyone has at least one thing that they feel is completely unmanageable and daunting. One measure of someone's character, is their ability to temporarily suspend those problems out of respect for their fellow mourners. In other words, it is admirable and mature to remember that everyone at a funeral has lost someone, otherwise they wouldn't be there, and your sadness is no more or less important than anybody else's.

There is no good barbecue in Salem, Oregon. There is however some fine Mexican food.

It has been 25 years since I've seen a dead body. It was Grandma's husband, coincidentally dubbed "Grandpa". As I was just a kid at the time, I was more freaked out than philosophical. This time I got a good look and time to think about it. This is not a new idea, in fact it's quite cliche, but the reason I bring it up is that I knew this intellectually but not quite viscerally. Grandma was not home. There was no part of Grandma in the body I viewed. It was an empty Grandma suit.

Funerals and burials, being rituals of endings, should not be photographed or video taped. I 'd almost go so far as to say they shouldn't be remembered, but I'll stop short at "they shouldn't be dwelled on".

There's currently a drought in the Salem area and coming back to Seattle, I realize that I'm okay with mud. Mud is just fine. It's much better than dust.

I don't want to get old.

Morticians and funeral directors perform the same function, but are an entirely different species.

Up till dealing with the funeral and funeral prep, I had wanted to be cremated. This was primarily about not taking up space. I still don't want to take up space, but I've changed my mind about cremation. Having seen the morbid circus surrounding the empty Grandma suit, I've realized that I want to be disposed of in the most convenient and cheapest way possible, whatever that happens to be. I'm fine with a party in my honor, but don't fawn over my retired jersey. Just get rid of the body; it won't be me in any real sense. Oddly, my sister and cousins and I all seemed to agree on this point (maybe it's a generational thing), in a conversation not three feet from the casket. This conversation eventually devolved into thinking of funny things we could do with our corpses, something to freak out the mourners; that's just the kind of people we are. I'm sure Grandma would have appreciated that if she had actually been in the box.

Finally, while I will miss making candy with Grandma and Christmas will have to become something else, I'm not sad. Of all the authority figures in my life, parents, aunts, uncles, teachers, bosses, priests, directors, cops, elected officials, the only one I never learned to say "no" to was my Grandma. She was 92 years old, and was trapped in a broken down, dilapidated body, and despite the grace and dignity she exhibited, she was clearly not happy about it. She wanted out, and really, who wouldn't, and who am I to say no?

I am so very wise...

2006-07-18T10:35:00.000-07:00

On the bus this morning, I had the brilliant idea to write another post about some snarky subject, expounding on my oh so important views on films, ethics, religion, and all the wacky illogical things that we humans do. Then I read the news. Wow, Israel, Hezbollah, one bomb every minute, non-stop for the last seven days, and I don't really understand what they're fighting about. I think I need to do some reading because I don't know shit about shit.

Things I Don't Understand - Part 2

2006-07-03T13:04:00.000-07:00

So melanin protects your skin from sun damage, right? That's how your skin tans and why people from hotter climates tend to be darker skinned than those from cooler climates. But the darker something is, the more heat it absorbs from sunlight. Wouldn't melanin would work better if it made you lighter instead of darker?

Why don't fish suffocate in a frozen lake? They breathe by absorbing oxygen from water but they process it into carbon dioxide just like we do, and eventually the oxygen would run out. If the surface is frozen, no new oxygen can circulate in, so at the end of a long winter, when a lake thaws, shouldn't there be a bunch of dead fish in a fizzy (carbonated) lake?

Suicide is illegal. That means that it is a punishable offense. That means that a police officer can shoot you to prevent you from killing yourself. By being guilty of said crime, you have demonstrated a disregard and in fact a distaste for your own life. So what exactly does the law think it's deterring with these potential punishments? The highest punishment for any crime we have is the death penalty. Could a potential death sentence prevent suicide?

As a person who has been single for a few years now, I don't understand how people can be mean to their mates. To put this in context, I had a conversation the other day with two women who were bragging --well, 'bragging' isn't quite the right word, but I'm not sure what else you could call it--about how they nagged they're boyfriend and husband respectively. They're aware of the problem--although the way they were talking it was one of those 'my problem is bigger than your problem' conversation--so why don't they just stop? Just go home and kiss your mate and love them and knock that shit off. I wouldn't do that, and somehow I remain single. What, am I ugly or something? Is it that hard to be decent to someone you love enough to marry?

Why does Martin Lawrence have a career?

Ear buds have terrible sound quality. You cannot generate proper musical dynamics with them. So why are people opting for them so much in today's I-Pod driven world? Do you think they're accessories? There are serious, hardworking, brilliant musicians that want you to listen to the fine dynamics of their work and you're treating their music like jewelry.

I can't stretch my head enough to wrap it around slavery. We have a system now, in taking unfair advantage of the "third world" that could be called slavery (very low wages, unhealthy work conditions), but there is a difference between that and the full on Uncle Tom's Cabin type slavery. The main difference is distance. Modern slavery by the west flies under most people's radar because it's far away and out of sight. If you were a white person in the US prior to 1863, the slaves were up close where you can look them in it's eye. You could see them being happy or sad, you could see them trying to care for their children, you could see them falling in love with one another, all those regular human things that you yourself did, but the difference was that you had your proverbial foot on their proverbial throats. But wait there's more! This wasn't an easy system to set up. The capture, shipping, and trading of the slaves, was no easy task. While it was horrific for the slaves, horrific to a degree I can't come near to imagining, it was at the very least a significant pain in the ass for the traders to pull it off. More than enough of a pain in the ass to cause them to re-evaluate just what it was they were doing. It must have. The difficulty of trading slaves at some point MUST HAVE caused them to stop and look into their victims eyes and said "Hey waitaminnit. This is a really fucked up thing to do!" So how did it happen? I can actually understand the Nazi holocaust more readily than I can understand slavery. At least in Nazi Germany, they had technology to help their atrocity become clean and efficient. How do you start something that is so clearly obviously a bad idea and has so many steps involved and at none of those steps stop and realize what you're doing?

Why does Tom Jones have a Welsh accent when he is just speaking, but not when he's doing a spoken part of a song?

Sad

2006-06-28T12:53:00.000-07:00

The world just lost a little charisma.

Bye, Nickel. Thanks for licking my face.

Something we all agree on...

2006-06-15T13:26:00.000-07:00

Y'know, it's a bit presumptuous when commercials and PSAs say "[insert issue] is something we all agree on." Dreadful grammar aside (sentence ending in preposition), who says we all agree on anything?

Case in point:

"Supporting our troops is something we all agree on."

A nice positive sentiment and for the most part true, but still, it's a bit of a sweep isn't it? Personally, I'd say I support almost all of the troops. The guys from poor families who had no other options but to join? Absolutely. The patriots who consider war a last resort but feel that it is a necessity in this case (arguable, but I wouldn't question their integrity)? Sure. The soldiers who are under the naive impression that they're defending freedom, and have yet to realize that they are actually defending the wealth, power and unenlightening self interests of the Neo-Cons? Yes, even them. The gung-ho guys who have wanted to be soldiers since they were kids for no other reason than being able to shoot people (You remember these assholes from high school, doncha?), and who let out an involuntary "Woo hoo" at the thought of killin' some'a them raghead sand niggers? Nah, I don't support those guys. In fact, take the kevlar off those those guys and give it to somebody else who isn't a complete prick.

Now I realize that most of the time there is no malign intent when an ad makes the assumption that we all agree on something. For example, the troop support thing I heard on an ad for the USO, a good organization that performs an important service. It is however a dangerous territory of thought. Despite the dystopian reality of the USA right now (and really throughout its history--slavery, Indian killing, oppression of women, consumerism, Dollywood), I really do appreciate what the US stands for on paper. William Burroughs called America "The last and greatest betrayal of the last and greatest of human dreams" and I agree. You could say with American ideals, I love the album cover, even though the music kinda sucks. One of the great ideals that this country was supposedly based on is dissent. The idea that we don't all have to, nor should we all, agree. We are strong because we have a variety of opinions. Or, more to the point, we SHOULD BE strong because we SHOULD have a variety of opinions. Don't get me wrong. There are far worse things than assuming we all agree, but I bring up the issue because I've never heard it discussed before. I'm admittedly splitting a semantic hair, but I think it should be split at least once. We don't all agree on anything and that's one of the last great things about this fading republic.

On the Crown-of-Thorns of a Dilemma

2006-06-14T11:53:00.000-07:00

How does one hate hatred without being guilty of hatred? How does one oppose prejudice without being prejudiced against the prejudiced? How does one fight against violence when fighting is a violent act? How does one stop religious intolerance when those that are guilty of it are the religious and to stop them is to not tolerate them?

I was reading an article just now in The Progressive about a young man who was not allowed to wait tables at a presidential dinner of some kind, simply because his name was Mohammed. I was outraged of course, knee-jerk liberal that I am, but it got me thinking: I'm not a big Islam fan myself. I hate the idea that Muslims are constantly and automatically scrutinized as potential terrorists, but to be honest, while I think Christianity is infantile, primitive, and dangerous to everyone involve or even nearby, I'd be lying if I said Islam isn't just as bad. The struggles in the Middle East are inevitably characterized as Muslims vs. Jews, or Christians vs. Muslims, but from my perspective, and I would imagine the perspective of most people who are neither Christian, Jew, nor Muslim, it always seems like Christians/Jews/Muslims versus the normal (not insane) people. The fact is, (my previous post on Antisemitism aside), all three of the big Middle Eastern monotheistic religions have caused more pain, suffering, intolerance, torture, ignorance, fear, and violent death than any other force in human history. That's not opinion either; a cursory glance at religious history will confirm that without a doubt. "Religious fanaticism should be treated as mental illness and most religious people are morons" is an opinion. One I hold, but one that is backed up by nothing more than the lack of evidence for the veracity of these religious delusions coupled with my 36 years watching people kill each other (on the news) and leading unhappy, unfulfilled, jaw-clenchingly dull lives (in person) based on this nonsense; no stats though.

So, on to the dilemma. I love my fellow humans (although I suspect it may just be Stockholm Syndrome), and I want them to be happy. One of the biggest changes that needs to happen in order for them to be happy is to dispose of Yahweh, Allah, Jesus, Mohammed, Moses, Joseph Smith, John Calvin, Martin Luther, St. Augustine, St. Thomas Aquinas, the Apostle Paul, and all the other historical holy rollers of literalist monotheism (emphasis on "literalist"). Coldly, methodically and without anger, amputate them from the popular consciousness like a gangrenous limb, because that's exactly what they are. But the problem is [dramatic musical declension] that is 100% religious intolerance. Oops. So here I am stuck at an impasse on the moral high ground. I want humans to stop being monsters, and the only solution I can come up with involves becoming a monster.

Now the wise person, when counseling me on my passionate desire to make the world a happy, healthy, fulfilled, advanced, evolved place, by getting everyone to be happy, healthy, fulfilled, advanced, evolved people, will inevitably use a word that I never really learned properly: "can't". You can't force people to think. You can't drag people towards enlightenment if they are not ready. You can't enforce compassion. You can't make people happy if they are predisposed to be unhappy.

Can't, can't can't.

I hate can't. Makes me feel like I didn't try hard enough.

Truth! - Part 2

2006-06-12T16:36:00.000-07:00

The following statements are true:

There is only one reason why you should care about someone else's sexual orientation, and that is that you, yourself, want to have sex with them (or, if you are a helpful yenta-type, and you want to set up your friend with them). Otherwise, it doesn't affect you at all, and your interest in the subject is somewhat suspect.

Those who can't do, teach. Those who lack the knowledge and intelligence to teach, often write theatrical reviews in their town's alternative newspaper.

If you are allergic to a food, you should not be allowed to say "Ewww" when you see or smell it. You are genetically predisposed to not like it, so your "Ewww" has no objective truth in it.

Similarly, if you never liked meat in the first place, you don't get to call yourself a vegetarian. You're just a person who doesn't like meat. I don't like mushrooms, but you don't see me smugly labeling myself because I refuse to eat them. "Vegetarian" should be reserved for people that like meat and have actually accomplished something by giving it up.

People that are offended at the possibility that we evolved from apes, clearly need to spend more time with apes. Monkeys throw poo. Humans invented the flamethrower, napalm, fragmentation mines, mustard gas, and testicle clamps for car batteries. Seems that the apes should be offended, not us.

I'm supposed to have above average intelligence, but most of the time, I feel really confused. I hate to think how everybody else feels.

If you shut off your inner dialogue, that is to say prevent your mind from formulating words, for more than a minute or so, the world melts and begins to vanish. No joke. You should try it.

Some of my favorite people are sluts. In fact, I've met many "decent" (non-slutty) people who, if you were to scratched their surface, you'd discover they lacked basic compassion and humanity. I've never met a slut like that. I've met a few thoughtless sluts, but none that I could call heartless. Perhaps there's something inherently healthy about touching people and viewing them as playmates instead of possessions.

The overwhelming majority of the country hates the president now and disapproves of the Republican party. That is somewhat gratifying, but only somewhat. Mid-term elections are coming up and it should be a Democratic sweep. Yippee. I feel like Ripley at the end of any of the Alien movies; the monsters are stopped, but the whole cast is dead because no one listened to her. Not to be a sore loser, and dig up dead issues, but those of us who have always disapproved of the president and his party of criminals, told you this would happen six years ago. We told you from day one of his campaign that he was a stupid, greedy, lying, incompetent, war-mongering, privileged, frat boy who has no more understanding of life than Paris Hilton. We told you. And now thousands are dead in the middle east, the economy is in ruins, any trust we had garnered around the world has vanished, all the strides made in air and water quality during the 90's are shot to shit, and gas prices are artificially raised to absurd heights, all because you were too stupid to listen to us. Now you finally disapprove of the president. Fuck you guys.

Antisemitism

2006-06-01T15:57:00.000-07:00

I have a confession to make. Now this sounds very bad on the surface, but if you hear me out it should (I hope) resolve itself into merely stupid and naive. It's just something that I've never put down in print in all its glory and I thought I should unburden myself of this, not guilt exactly, but embarrassment:

Part of me finds antisemitism funny.

Horrible, I know, but let me explain. First off, it's not the dominant part of me that feels this way. It's in the formative, childlike part of my personality. It goes back to my first exposure to it. Having grown up and lived all of my life in the Pacific Northwest, among middle class Catholics, I really didn't have much exposure to Jews. Now I can't speak for the entire Catholic world, certainly not Mel Gibson, but in the churches and schools that I attended, we were never fed the "Evil Jews killed Jesus" point of view. As far as I could tell, since he had the power to get out of it at any time, Jesus killed Jesus, the Romans helped, and the Jews just happened to be nearby and had a thing for Barabas, whoever he was. That's how my child mind absorbed the information; Having grown up and read a few books, I now realize that's not exactly how the story went, but all I'm saying is I was never indoctrinated by the church with "Jews are bad". Beyond being characters in this boooooring story they made us listen to in poorly ventilated churches with uncomfortable pews, to me Jews were comedians. They were Mel Brooks and Woody Allen and Jackie Mason and Jackie Vernon and Henny Youngman. They were funny and self effacing and intelligent and charming. They were about the least threatening people I could ever imagine. In fact they were people I thought would be pretty cool to hang out with (except for Don Rickles of course). This very well could be why I'm a comedian today. I wanted to be as charming as Gabe Kaplan (Mr. Kotter) when I grew up. When I, somewhere in my preteens, first heard that some people believed that Jews were evil monsters bent on controlling the world, I thought it was a joke. I pictured Woody Allen trying to take over the world, and I figured they had to be kidding. It was too absurd to be true. Like God and Santa Claus and Reaganomics.

Now, having aged and been in the world a bit longer, and met some truly fucked up people, and seen photos of the holocaust, and heard the insane ravings of...well, frankly, a lot of people, I now understand with more than a little embarrassment, "Oh. This isn't just not joke. This is extremely grave. A lot of people genuinely hate Jews for no other reason than their heritage (or in some cases baseless conspiracy theories). People die because of this.". My adult, pacifistic, well read, reasonably educated mind, knows that antisemitism is a terrible, terrible thing. Prejudice makes me extREMly angry and sad. But deep down that little kid that first misunderstood it as a joke (or at worst the sincere beliefs of maybe 5 insane people at most), finds it funny. As an adult comedian, I've really had to be careful of this. Comedy is simultaneously precise and instinctual. Our experience and intelligence tells us what's funny but it's those early formative experiences that tell us what to laugh at. For what it's worth, my Hebrew brothers, I apologize for my naivete.

Ahhhhh, feels good to get that off my chest. Maybe someday I'll tell you all why I think teen suicide music is funny.

Elocution

2006-05-18T15:46:00.000-07:00

The was a time in human hist...when elocution was taught as a r.....of public edu...... This is no longer the case. Many people, at least here in the United Statsububub, have stopped finishing their sent..... It's as if they never learned to take the like whatever in their like whatever and transform it into like whatever thus facilitating communication between whatevers. They either trail off the end and never........, or some, when they lose the thread of their thoughts, will let their speech devolve into nonesebedlcbsuywnxp.... , or they will like whatever the like whatever with "whatever" as if the listener understands what they mean.

Alright, the meta-joke is getting old and I'm getting sick of writing like that. Bottom line: Finish your sentences! Take the thoughts in your head, translate them into recognizable words, and speak them. All of them. There really isn't much that seperates us from animals; not REALLY. Speech is one thing that does. Use it, and use it well. The thoughts in your head are too important to waste.

Things I Don't Understand - Part 1

2006-05-16T15:38:00.000-07:00

I'm something of a know-it-all. I am a walking encyclopedia of weird facts, and am constantly reading just enough to make me seem smart (and not a letter more). However, despite the fact that I know a great deal, I understand very little about life, people, and existence. Here, then, is part one of a list of things I don't understand:

There are languages in this world, French and Vietnamese come to mind but I'm sure there are others, that do not pronounce the ends of certain words. They will enunciate the front and then have 3, 4, 5 or more letters that are silent. Why don't they just not have those letters there in the first place?

How did we end up with names of countries in different languages? If you go somewhere and say "What is this place called?" and they say "Nippon.", how does "Japan" happen? If you say "Is this Japan?", isn't the logical response "No, this is Nippon."? Okay, maybe one guy had a speech impediment and couldn't say "Nippon"; all subsequent visitors can't possibly have the same impediment. So why is there a different name for Nippon in every language? The same goes for Espana, Italia, Deutchland, and every other country. Why don't we call it what the locals call it?

Part of growing up awkward, at least from my perspective, is knowing less than those around you about the expectations in social situations. "What am I supposed to be doing in this interaction? What is reasonable? What will make me look like a retard?" The awkwardness occurs when you don't know, but those around you somehow do. So where did the non-awkward learn it? Is there some sort of (metaphorical) behavioral memo that people subscribe to? I fully understand why we awkward types don't get this inside info on social grace; the information isn't readily available. What I don't understand is where do the socially graceful ones learn it?

Guys who regularly do complicated handshakes with one another cannot possibly do it spontaneously. They must learn it ahead of time and execute them at some mutually agreed time. So do they practice then? Do they sit around with their buddies practicing elaborate handshakes and discussing when and where to do them? You never see gay guys doing elaborate shakes but sitting around holding hands with your pals seems more than a little gay to me. How do the fancy handshake guys, a decidedly macho breed of man, humble themselves, dispense with their innate homophobia, and get together to practice? "Say, Bob, why don't you come over Sunday. We'll watch the game, down some brewskies, and practice fancy handshakes." I can't picture it.

It's incomprehensible to me how slowly some people can stand to walk. Now, I'm not talking about the injured or elderly. I'm talking about normal, young, healthy people, that walk like they have all the time in the world. Don't they have somewhere to go? And if not, why are they out walking? Wouldn't they rather get where they are going quickly so that they have more time to do whatever it is they're going there to do? Can't they feel the grim reaper breathing down their neck? They're wasting their own lives. That's suicide.

What's up with the insincerely cheerful people? We've all been in situations where we've had to act happy when we weren't. It's awful. It feels like the emotional equivalent of holding your breathe for longer than you think you can. But these people do it all day, every day. And I'm not talking about the genuinely cheerful people. I'm talking about the insincere ones. You can spot them a mile away and if you look in their eyes, you can see their souls dying. So why don't they just frown? Frown until they don't feel like frowning anymore. Or, more to the point, how can they bear to keep that up?

On a similar topic, what's up with the shmaltzy, saccharine, telephone persona? You know, the people that put in that little mini chuckle before they say "mmmb'bye now."? Or they talk in sing-songy baby talk. Can they not hear themselves?

Why will some people give you their life story in answer to a yes or no question and then never get to the yes or no part?

Why should I, or anybody else care about professional sports? No matter how enjoyable the game is to play, if you are not playing it and no one you know is playing it and you haven't bet money on it, you have no stake whatsoever in who wins. It does not affect your life or the life of anyone you know or are likely to meet. So what moves you to care? It's not civic pride. I know anarchists who care whether "their" team wins. Anarchists by definition cannot have civic pride. It's not support for the people in your community. Professional athletes only live where they live because the team pays them to live there. They draft them from other cities. Then there are the people who root for teams in other cities, some in cities they've never even been to. So much for civic pride and community support. Transference perhaps? Are sports fans laboring under the misapprehension that they are on the team? Seems a little unlikely. Can hundreds of millions of people really be that delusional? Maybe. Look at organized religion.

The 90's

2006-05-12T15:10:00.000-07:00

I had a short but interesting conversation the other day with a couple of people about ten years younger than myself. Metallica's Enter Sandman came on the radio and the subject of the 90's came up. I expressed some nostalgia; Honest emotion in music (speaking of Indie not R&B), Seattle the temporary center of the universe, a president who wanted nothing more than a BJ and some fried chicken and wasn't a dangerous psychopath bent on enslaving us all. But the thing that I miss the most is that people weren't so prissy. The younger folks with which I was conversing said "Were people really less prissy?". Yes. Yes, they were. Remember the whole "sex positive" movement with Susie Bright and Annie Sprinkle? Remember, the beginnings of South Park blowing everybody's doors off? Remember Act Up and Queer Nation? Remember loud, passionate music before it was formulaic? Remember when Hip Hop had a harsh political stance and wasn't all about blunts, bling, and bitches? Remember when people used to go to nightclubs in feather boas and white PVC and dayglow green fur? I can't pinpoint the exact moment when it happened but sometime, I think after 9/11, this country became Utah. Coast to coast people young and old suddenly adopted Mormonesque self denial and strident boringness, clinging like a lockjawed pitbull to the middle of the road. Actually, to call it sudden is not accurate. It was sudden when I noticed it. I suspect the change was so glacially slow, nobody noticed, otherwise we would have stopped it. Now I realize, by mentioning this, I'm in danger of becoming one of those guys that you used to see in the 70's (for you younger folks check out Dr. Johnny Fever on repeats of WKRP in Cincinatti), talking about how life was real in the 60's and how "'78's just empty, man. Down with Disco!", but frankly I don't know what to do about it. I feel like Hunter S. Thompson in Fear and Loathing lamenting the loss of the heart of the 60's but I don't have a surreal 70's to move into. This millennium really sucks so far. Everywhere I go feels like the unholy lovechild of a strip mall and a Methodist church. Or perhaps it's just me. Maybe I'm secretly resenting the fact that I recently threw out my collection of sparkly party shirts in favor of the dully colored vertically striped shirts that everybody seems to be wearing. Maybe I'm just disappointed that the most progressive and interesting thing in popular music is the talented but essentially dull Black Eyed Peas. Maybe I'm just bored with gays demanding legal, monogamous marriage instead of celebrating the joys of being gay and throwing it in the face of those who lacked the courage to be fabulous. Maybe I just miss Kurt Cobain. Maybe I just haven't gotten laid in several months because the political climate bums me out too much to try. Is it just me? Am I just in denial? Is the new millennium really a golden age? Am I just turning into a grumpy old man 30 years ahead of schedule? Or has something really filed all the edges off the Zeitgeist and turned the concept of an interesting life into monochrome cafeteria food?

Truth! - part 1

2006-05-09T12:11:00.000-07:00

The following statements are true:

Surviving on fish sticks, hashbrowns, eggs, and beer for more than 2 days will give you a stomach ache.

An unusually high number of people with accents work in medical administration.

If Christians had any concept of infinity, they would not be so attached to their 'messiah'. Being tortured, reviled, abandoned, crucified, and dying, all within one day (crucifixion usually lasted several days), only to come back and become omnipotent three days later is not a sacrifice. It barely even qualifies as an inconvenience. A day of intense horror in exchange for an eternity of godhead? I'm not impressed, Jesus.

If you are asked what you do for a living and you say "I sell [such and such].", that's okay. If you say "I'm in sales.", you're creepy and probably a sociopath.

Anything worth buying does not require a salesman, just a clerk.

There is no significant difference between the cute aesthetic and the erotic aesthetic. When you see a picture of a cute little baby or puppy or whatever it is, your breeding instincts are involuntarily activated. You desire, and this is a physical desire, to hold and shelter this creature because you have a biological imperative to do so. If you see a picture of an attractive naked woman, man, rock, tree, or whatever you're into, breeding instincts are involuntarily activated. You desire, to impregnate or be impregnated by this creature (or object) because you have a biological imperative to do so. The action is the same, yet one is arbitrarily suitable for public view and one is not. One is lionized and one is demonized. They are both pornographic, because they push your biological buttons, whether you want them to or not.

There is something strange about adults who say they have a 'bedtime'. Having a time when you think it would be a good idea to go to bed, based on your lifestyle, your level of fatigue, and what you plan to do tomorrow, seems normal, but when people actually call it a 'bedtime', I can't help but think they never grew up.

Rules are not made to be broken. If you know me personally, that may seem strange coming from me, but it's true. Rules are not necessarily made to be followed either. They are made to be evaluated on a case by case basis, taking into account the original intent of the rule, and then followed or ignored as the situation dictates. "Rules are made to be broken" sounds suspiciously like a rule to me.

The microscopic organisms on and in your body outnumber the cells of your body by a factor of 10. That means you are walking around with ten times as much "them" as "you". Kinda makes you wonder what it means when you say "me", doesn't it?

Some people live like they're never going to die. You can spot them because they're usually walking slowly down sidewalks or hallways with a mob of exasperated people in a hurry stuck behind them.

I'm becoming convinced that some people are just extras.

Many beautiful memorials are created in honor of complete bastards who want a tax deduction.

Feliz Cinco de Mayo!

2006-05-05T09:08:00.000-07:00

Today is Mexican Independence Day, commemorating the day in 1206 BCE when Cheech Marin, Paul Rodriquez, and Speedy Gonzalez repelled the French army with a tactical master stroke. They ordered their forces to sneak into the enemy's kitchens and fill their sinks with rotten mayonnaise. The smell was so pungent, even to the French, that they were utterly destroyed. That's why France doesn't exist anymore. Hence the name Cinco de Mayo, which means "sink full of mayo". It is normally celebrated on the 3rd Thursday of November, but for some reason they're doing it on May 5th this year. Probably something to do with NAFTA.

In an unrelated topic, I need to get me some lighter friends. My car is in the shop. Something had knocked my exhaust pipe loose and it has been dragging on the ground making sparks. Interesting to to look at, but not something you really want your car doing. I had been making a joke to myself--not to anyone else because it was only mildly funny and rather insulting to my friends--that I've been driving around with too many fat people in my car. An inordinate number of my friends are significantly overweight and do not drive. Now, I'm a little overweight myself, only about 30 pounds or so, and have no wish for the gods to punish my hubris by making me any fatter, so I try to keep the potential fat jokes to a minimum. I have only so much self control, so some do get out, but I try. Andy at Andy's Import Auto (good, honest mechanic and nice guy) informed me this morning that my engine mounts and transmission mounts were broken, and that the subsequent sagging of the transmission is what broke my exhaust pipe. He did not say this in so many words, but if my understanding of gravity and physics is correct (possibly not), it might be that excessive weight and inertia caused a sag in the body of the car and an unusually high burden on the transmission. Put another way, it very well could be that my car was broken by having too many fat guys in it.

Ecce Homo (aka mini-bio part II)

2006-05-04T11:52:00.000-07:00

When last we left our hero, he had just gotten divorced and started his real life. I feel compelled to point out an error in my previous entry: I neglected to mention that I got married, hence the divorce. I didn't get divorced without getting married first. That would be silly. After my divorce there was a great deal of wreckage to clean up. The next decade or so was spent doing that, while simultaneously trying to have a life too. As I was a 23 years old male in Seattle in the early 90's, I was required by law to join a band. I played guitar and flute in a band called Mama Lama with my friends Diano and Scotty. That dissolved eventually, which is for the best as I would not become a competant musician for several years yet. After that dissolved, I started acting (you know, the thing I went to college for) quite frequently with Stepping Stone Productions. I also founded Not Named Bob, my forray into radio format comedy (ala Firesign Theatre). It was well received by the 20 or so people that saw it, but unfortunately none of us had any gift for promotion so we just faded into oscurity. However, it was at this time when I started to realize that acting in regular 'plays' was not exactly where my muse wanted me to go; close but not quite. Deep down I was a sketch comedian. It was then that I and my cohort, Aaron, founded Lo Blo, a sketch comedy troup whose primary Modus Operandi was to find the line of good taste, cross it, make fun of the people that did not cross it, piss on it, set it on fire, and then draw a new line somewhere else with the intent of crossing it later. We had some modest success early on, and had a company of around 13 people (not all at once), but due I think primarily to bad press (which is to say, being utterly ignored by the press) our houses dwindled, our reslove faltered and we ceased to function as a unit. It was somewhere around 2001 that Lo Blo faded away, but not before producing our magnum opus, a cinematic tour de force called X-Treme Surfing. I then hopped on the bandwagon of Theatre on the Rocks. To call them sketch is not entirely accurate; it was more of a variety show and excuse to drink cocktails on stage. There was some sketch involved, but there were also guest performers, a house band, games ("Name the Movie, Win Some Crap"), and other stuff. Its founder, Nellis, moved out of town and we decided to keep the group going but retire the name out of respect for him. We rechristened ourselves The 13th Step; somewhere between 'Jefferson Starship' and 'AfterMASH'. We managed to pull off three shows, and had a fair following, until evetually we all started to drift away from the project for no specific reason. I then started to work with Open Circle Theater, drawn primarily to their yearly adaptions of H.P. Lovecraft stories, of which I have written two. I have been working with them ever since and, thanks to them, in a month will be debuting my latest sketch comedy project, THEM!, combining my two great loves, sketch comedy and horror.

So that's my abbreviated biography. I hope you enjoyed it. I have left out a number of things, my love life, my tumultuous relationship with my family, my experiences with the paranormal, travel, specific childhood stories, all of which are topics in and of themselves. My love life itself will probably be a 10 parter. I will be revisiting these topics later.

Also Sprach Zarathustra...

2006-05-03T14:58:00.000-07:00

...and hurray for me too! Let the banners wave! Let the fanfares sound! Let the manic depressives cheer, or stay in bed and sigh, as is their wont!

I now have a blog!

I'm sure my email pals will appreciate my acquiring a real outlet for my oooooo so clever bon mots, my histrionic autocritique, my shallow and idealistic political opinions, my angry tirades on religion, society, and grammar (of all things) and my filthy fucking language, and finally leaving them alone.

So, this begs the question of content. "Well, Johnnie-boy, you have a forum to say whatever you want. Whatcha gonna say?" (Truth be told, no one has ever called me "Johnnie-boy", least of all me. I just thought it sounded suitably contemptuous.) I guess I'll start the ball rollling with an incredibly short biography.

I was born in San Diego California in the Fall (despite the lack of anything falling in SoCal) of 1969. I don't remember much about the event, but I'm pretty sure there were hippies involved. Or maybe Nixon. Those '60's were wild, man! My mother was a military nurse, and my father was an engineer for MacDonald-Douglas and occassional contractor for NASA. They were both ex-Navy, and Mom outranked Dad. I had, and still have, a sister a year older ('Irish Twins' as they say). The family moved up to Lake Grove, Oregon (suburb of Portland) in 1972. My sister and I attended Our Lady of the Lake Catholic School from 1st to 8th grade. At some point in 5th grade or so, it occurred to me that Santa did not really exist. At this point I half expected to graduate from Catholic school and go on to the 'real' school, and was rather surprised to discover that this God business didn't go the way of Santa. Santa actualy made more sense to me than God; I got presents from Santa; I never got any presents from God. After 8th grade I attended Jesuit High School. Yes, another Catholic School, all boys. My sister went to the all girls' school. The salient points of high school can be summed up as drawing, sulking, lighting fires, writing excrutiating poetry, masturbating, acting in plays, falling in love with a girl, and there was a brief encounter with some boobs in there too. The one true important event was that I discovered that I wanted to be on stage and that's all I really wanted to do with my life. On to college! I attended Cornish College of the Arts in Seattle, Washington, in the Acting Conservatory, met some folks with whom I am still friends, and some with whom I am not, and the woman that would eventually become my ex-wife. Went through college, learned a great deal, sired my son (brilliant kid, you should meet him), graduated, got divorced (and not a moment too soon), and that is when I consider that my life started. Not sure how I did it, but I was born at age 23. I'll continue this mini-biography tomorrow...

Thus Spoke Zarathustra