I was looking forward to the Family Guy Star Wars special. I like both Family Guy and Star Wars and one would think the combination would be enjoyable. It was not. How could a combination that had so much potential end up being a boring mess?
I think the main problem was that the parody of Star Wars forced the Family Guy team to follow a plot. This is definitely not their strong suit even when the story is already written for them. It undercuts the only way that they generate laughs-- the complete non-sequitor. Chaining them to an actual plot led them, for the most part, to obvious old jokes (we know that the parsec is a unit of distance not of time but how is it funny pointing that out?) and that and a few groaners (that foul stench isn't Governor Tarkin, it's a "Darth doody"? Really?).
I watched the episode last night and can only come up with about 5 funny lines/scenes (the best of which was probably the "request" of the next song in the cantina scene and the Red team check-in before the Death Star attack). That just isn't enough to sustain a one hour parody. The Start Wars Universe is rife for parody but I think they shackled themselves with the faithful retelling of only episode IV rather than allowing themselves to make fun of the entire mythos.
I would go back and watch it again and write in more detail, but two things are keeping me from doing that: (1) after watching it, I promptly deleted it from my DVR, and (2) even if I hadn't deleted it, I wouldn't want to watch it again.
Robot Chicken did their Star Wars special a few months back and packed more than twice as many laughs in half the amount of time (for all you math wizards out there, that is more than 4 times the laugh density). They were wise enough to do what Family Guy should have done and stayed with the random, disjointed scenes rather than a retelling.
This is Family Guy's most desperate hour. Help them, manatees, You're their only hope.
Monday, September 24, 2007
Hickory has a new winner
Jon Reep took home the title of Last Comic Standing. As one could guess from my previous posts, I didn't really care whether Jon or Lavell won. Even though I don't think either of them really deserved to win, I think that Jon winning was the right choice. At least he was getting stronger as the competition went on whereas Lavell started strong and rapidly faded down the stretch (insert obvious out of shape joke here). I still think Gerry Dee deserved to win but there is really nothing I can do about it.
The one good thing about watching Last Comic Standing and other reality competition finales is it makes me feel like I am speeding up time and getting more accomplished than I really am. I watched the 2 hour finale of LCS in about 25 minutes. My DVR thankfully allowed me to skip the near half and hour of commercials and over an hour of filler (that is inserted to build up the "suspense" of who wins.) They really don't even have to tell you that it is the finale-- people can figure it out from the endless parade of pointless performances, background information, and self-promotion. The producers of reality competitions should follow the wisdom of the immortal words of Monty Python when scheduling their finale: "Get on with it!".
The one good thing about watching Last Comic Standing and other reality competition finales is it makes me feel like I am speeding up time and getting more accomplished than I really am. I watched the 2 hour finale of LCS in about 25 minutes. My DVR thankfully allowed me to skip the near half and hour of commercials and over an hour of filler (that is inserted to build up the "suspense" of who wins.) They really don't even have to tell you that it is the finale-- people can figure it out from the endless parade of pointless performances, background information, and self-promotion. The producers of reality competitions should follow the wisdom of the immortal words of Monty Python when scheduling their finale: "Get on with it!".
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Would they both please sit down?
So tonight Jon Reep and Lavell Crawford battled it out for the Last Comic Standing title. And no matter who wins, it is the wrong person. John Reep has been one of the worst in the finals and should have been sent home a long time ago. Lavell Crawford was impressive in the initial round and the first round of the finals, but since then has been unintelligible and unfunny.
Gerry Dee was by far the best comedian the past three weeks and yet he got voted out. He deserved to win which could be why he was so broken up when he didn't advance. I guess the way to win is to play to the least common denominator, the way the two finalists do.
Neither of the two finalists improved their lots tonight with their time tonight though. They must have gotten together before hand and agreed to not have any punchlines in their set as they both try to out setup each other.
Jon Reep did his whole set on his dad snoring in a storytelling style but has neither the charisma nor the punchlines to pull it off. The set started off with, "So who knows someone who snores really loud?" and I started shaking my head seeing exactly where it was going. Jon Reep's dad snores loudly, he often falls asleep on the couch watching TV and snores intermittently and in amusing ways, he once snored loudly in church and pretended it wasn't him. If you found that last sentence funny then you might have really enjoyed the set.
Lavell counters with another bit about being at the fast food restaurant and bad customer service.. You see Lavell is fat so when the fast food employee asks him if the gigantic 25-piece chicken meal he just ordered is eat in or to go it's supposed to be funny. This is of course ignoring the fact that the employee is just working off a script and would ask me that question if I ordered it (which at least would have the surreal juxtaposition of the enormous meal against my rather low BMI frame). The customer service bit was that the people on line don't speak English that well (but given the accent that Lavell uses to imitate the worker, we must be calling different lines. I usually get a "British" person whereas he gets someone from Nigeria). But at least Lavell thinks he is funny as he was laughing very hard at his jokes throughout.
I think (or at least hope) part of the problem is the horrible way NBC setup the show. They have given the comics the same 5 minutes to perform the whole finals round and tonight was no different. I fail to see why they didn't give the comedians 10 or 15 minutes to show off. That might sounds counterintuitive since I just talked about how I didn't like the sets and yet I am asking for more. I do for two reasons. One is that I am sure that the comedians are used to doing sets that run longer than 5 minutes and as such are out of their comfort zone (they can't do jokes that run too long or are setup by other jokes because they don't have the time). Secondly, the show is supposed to be the big final competition between these two, deserved or not, and so the show should focus on them. I want a larger sample size of their stand-up to decide who should win.
But instead of giving the time to the comedians that America has asked to see more of, NBC decided to pack the show with three outside pointless comedians: Kathleen Madigan was pretty funny (the best of the night bar-none) but Gilbert Gottfried (with a circa 1999 set heavy with Calista Flockhart jokes) and Greg Proops (bad Obama-Clinton political commentary) were awful. What was the point of their performances? Filler. Maybe NBC didn't have confidence in the finalists either.
I may not actually vote in the competition (that way I can still feel superior-- yeah, I watch reality shows, but I don't actually vote... that's just sad) but I reserve the right to complain about it... It is my right as a belligerent fuck.
Gerry Dee was by far the best comedian the past three weeks and yet he got voted out. He deserved to win which could be why he was so broken up when he didn't advance. I guess the way to win is to play to the least common denominator, the way the two finalists do.
Neither of the two finalists improved their lots tonight with their time tonight though. They must have gotten together before hand and agreed to not have any punchlines in their set as they both try to out setup each other.
Jon Reep did his whole set on his dad snoring in a storytelling style but has neither the charisma nor the punchlines to pull it off. The set started off with, "So who knows someone who snores really loud?" and I started shaking my head seeing exactly where it was going. Jon Reep's dad snores loudly, he often falls asleep on the couch watching TV and snores intermittently and in amusing ways, he once snored loudly in church and pretended it wasn't him. If you found that last sentence funny then you might have really enjoyed the set.
Lavell counters with another bit about being at the fast food restaurant and bad customer service.. You see Lavell is fat so when the fast food employee asks him if the gigantic 25-piece chicken meal he just ordered is eat in or to go it's supposed to be funny. This is of course ignoring the fact that the employee is just working off a script and would ask me that question if I ordered it (which at least would have the surreal juxtaposition of the enormous meal against my rather low BMI frame). The customer service bit was that the people on line don't speak English that well (but given the accent that Lavell uses to imitate the worker, we must be calling different lines. I usually get a "British" person whereas he gets someone from Nigeria). But at least Lavell thinks he is funny as he was laughing very hard at his jokes throughout.
I think (or at least hope) part of the problem is the horrible way NBC setup the show. They have given the comics the same 5 minutes to perform the whole finals round and tonight was no different. I fail to see why they didn't give the comedians 10 or 15 minutes to show off. That might sounds counterintuitive since I just talked about how I didn't like the sets and yet I am asking for more. I do for two reasons. One is that I am sure that the comedians are used to doing sets that run longer than 5 minutes and as such are out of their comfort zone (they can't do jokes that run too long or are setup by other jokes because they don't have the time). Secondly, the show is supposed to be the big final competition between these two, deserved or not, and so the show should focus on them. I want a larger sample size of their stand-up to decide who should win.
But instead of giving the time to the comedians that America has asked to see more of, NBC decided to pack the show with three outside pointless comedians: Kathleen Madigan was pretty funny (the best of the night bar-none) but Gilbert Gottfried (with a circa 1999 set heavy with Calista Flockhart jokes) and Greg Proops (bad Obama-Clinton political commentary) were awful. What was the point of their performances? Filler. Maybe NBC didn't have confidence in the finalists either.
I may not actually vote in the competition (that way I can still feel superior-- yeah, I watch reality shows, but I don't actually vote... that's just sad) but I reserve the right to complain about it... It is my right as a belligerent fuck.
Saturday, September 8, 2007
Superman Returns
Wow. If you've never seen Superman Returns, stop now, run, and make a note to never see that steaming pile of crap ever. And I thought Superman IV was bad.
This film takes itself way too seriously which is hard to do given the subject matter. There is no humor in the movie at all, they went fully for drama but fall flat on their face. Their is inherently no drama in the character of Superman. Instead of focusing on the action and humor side of things they try pathos. Not an easy task given an stoic invincible alien as a main character.
The plot boils down to this: Superman returns from space, Lex Luthor goes to Superman's Fortress of solitude and steals some crystals and knowledge of how to use them, he then steals some kryptonite, throws the kryptonite and crystals into the ocean and builds an kryptonite/crystal island slowly, fails to kill Superman when any moron could have, Superman throws island into space slowly. The End. I just saved you two and a half hours of your life.
Sure other pointless things happen-- albeit very slowly. The only action in the movies, aside from the slow scene of superman throwing the island into space slowly and then slowly falling back to the earth (which strangely results in a large impact crater even though he is only 225 pounds), revolves around plot points invented to fill time and to get Superman to do something. It happens in the same way as in a lot of other sci-fi movies, Armageddon springs to mind, where bad things happen for absolutely no reason (or even worse against logic). A Space Shuttle malfunctions slowly and drags a plane along with it slowly, a robbery happens slowly, the Daily Prophet globe falls slowly: all as a pretext so we can see Superman do something. This is a necessity since during the other over two hours nothing happens: no action, no plot, no character development (you know exactly who everyone is within 10 seconds of their appearance). This all leads to no fun.
You may have noticed the repetition of the word 'slow' in the above paragraphs. This is done on purpose as even when things happen they take in some weird relativistic space-- time slows down for the viewer. That's some good direction there, "Something is happening so lets slow everything down as to suck all excitement out of it. I don't want anything to get in the way of the pathos."
There are too many stupid things in the movie to list out so I will refrain, as you should refrain from watching it.
Look, up in the sky. It's a bird. It's a plane. It's a steaming pile of crap!
n.b. A quick check on IMDb gives the following bit of trivia: "Brandon Routh, Kate Bosworth and Kevin Spacey signed on without having read the script"... that explains a bit of it.
This film takes itself way too seriously which is hard to do given the subject matter. There is no humor in the movie at all, they went fully for drama but fall flat on their face. Their is inherently no drama in the character of Superman. Instead of focusing on the action and humor side of things they try pathos. Not an easy task given an stoic invincible alien as a main character.
The plot boils down to this: Superman returns from space, Lex Luthor goes to Superman's Fortress of solitude and steals some crystals and knowledge of how to use them, he then steals some kryptonite, throws the kryptonite and crystals into the ocean and builds an kryptonite/crystal island slowly, fails to kill Superman when any moron could have, Superman throws island into space slowly. The End. I just saved you two and a half hours of your life.
Sure other pointless things happen-- albeit very slowly. The only action in the movies, aside from the slow scene of superman throwing the island into space slowly and then slowly falling back to the earth (which strangely results in a large impact crater even though he is only 225 pounds), revolves around plot points invented to fill time and to get Superman to do something. It happens in the same way as in a lot of other sci-fi movies, Armageddon springs to mind, where bad things happen for absolutely no reason (or even worse against logic). A Space Shuttle malfunctions slowly and drags a plane along with it slowly, a robbery happens slowly, the Daily Prophet globe falls slowly: all as a pretext so we can see Superman do something. This is a necessity since during the other over two hours nothing happens: no action, no plot, no character development (you know exactly who everyone is within 10 seconds of their appearance). This all leads to no fun.
You may have noticed the repetition of the word 'slow' in the above paragraphs. This is done on purpose as even when things happen they take in some weird relativistic space-- time slows down for the viewer. That's some good direction there, "Something is happening so lets slow everything down as to suck all excitement out of it. I don't want anything to get in the way of the pathos."
There are too many stupid things in the movie to list out so I will refrain, as you should refrain from watching it.
Look, up in the sky. It's a bird. It's a plane. It's a steaming pile of crap!
n.b. A quick check on IMDb gives the following bit of trivia: "Brandon Routh, Kate Bosworth and Kevin Spacey signed on without having read the script"... that explains a bit of it.
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
The Third Law
The storm rages around me
lightning streaks the gloomy sky
The hail batters my body
I believe I am to die
Twisters tear my home asunder
whilst lava sets it ablaze
a quake knocks me to my back
its power does scare and amaze
Desperate to save my little life
I think of a cunning scheme
I yell to the storm, "I love you"
and it flees with a frightened scream.
Cover me
"$10. Just to step in the door; to get into a place I know I won't enjoy.
I met my friend and the entrance and we push through the crowd to the back of the bar, after first getting a round, and descend the stairs to bowels of the place, down to the dance level. We are assaulted by the heat as we enter in addition to the music, which is deafening. Walking back to our area in the corner is enough to bring a sheen of sweat. There is nothing else that can reach the ears while the pounding strains of some indistinguishable dance track thunders through the room.
$2 per minutes so far.
We head over to where our group is and sit. We attempt a conversation but it quickly becomes a game of "what tag" and we both give up for a time. Our drinks at least provide something to do: pick up the glass, take a sip, hold the liquid in your mouth and savor the flavor with a pensive look, swallow, and return the glass to the table. Repeat whenever the uncomfortable feeling of doing nothing necessitates some motion.
$1 per minute.
The bodies on the dance floor gyrate in ritual of horniness and youth. The desperation hangs thick in the air and the throbbing bass from the speakers sends the tendril-like fog of it swirling towards the alert predators. You can see them watching from the wings, waiting to strike when they see a weak or wanting prey. A lone woman dancing is alone for but a second before the hounds swarm. An obviously hammered and horny woman has more options than she knows what to do with... or perhaps she is a resourceful one and knows what to do. I laugh but it is consumed by the pounding rhythms and goes unheard.
$.50 per minute.
The DJ, in his booth, looks on smugly, as if he is a man among boys. He controls the crowd, or so he thinks. Instead he is trapped in a booth whilst others grind with the women on the floor. He dictates the sounds from his Apple laptop but misses out on any action. The only person sadder than him is his assistant who bops his head to the beat and stare out of the booth with a very creepy look, like an old man looking a little too long and little too intently on a much too young woman. He at least seems content to dance and leer by himself.
$.25 per minute.
My friend gets dragged up to dance although he obviously doesn't want to. It is the birthday of the girl dragging him up so courtesy dictates he at least half-ass a little dance. He isn't drunk enough to do it wholeheartedly and so it mostly consists of head bobs and the occasional shuffle. His unease at least entertains me a bit and I am thankful that I don't know the birthday girl enough for her to drag me up as well. He, of course, keeps his drink in his hand so that he can periodically stop dancing to take a swig. That reminds me that I still have my drink to pass the time: sip, hold, swallow, repeat.
$.10 per minute.
Finally, a few people from the group leave. They have broken the ice-- it is now acceptable to move on to another place. You never want to be the first to go, but once another has made the move it is open season. My friend and I agree we should find a new place. After a few minutes convincing the birthday girl we climb out of the dungeon and exit the bar into the real world again. The night air feels good, although my ears strain to hear the sounds of the city. Onward to new and better bars.
Just over two hours. So it only cost me about 8 cents per uncomfortable minute."
I was very tempted to go home shortly after I got there. I am, however, glad I did not. Not that any fun was had at that first place. Thankfully, we went to much more low-key Irish bar. A place where conversation is not only possible but expected. We met up with a new group of people which improved things as well.
What I thought was going to be an early night turned into a surreal night full of stories and in-jokes. A night which included, but was not limited to: ridiculous multi pronged biological analogies, Chinese government adaptability, extended pussyfooting, Bactrian Camels, street voyeurism, jumper cables, a hubcap, a steel
bladder, a man blending into a bathroom door, a vibrating couch, a philosophizing waiter, and very (and I do mean very) opaque yogurt.
It was one of the rare times I made a wise decision when faced with the "should I stay or should I go" dilemma, which I have often. This was the first time in a while that I didn't regret my decision shortly afterwards. Perhaps I've had enough experience making the wrong decision that I've learned.
I met my friend and the entrance and we push through the crowd to the back of the bar, after first getting a round, and descend the stairs to bowels of the place, down to the dance level. We are assaulted by the heat as we enter in addition to the music, which is deafening. Walking back to our area in the corner is enough to bring a sheen of sweat. There is nothing else that can reach the ears while the pounding strains of some indistinguishable dance track thunders through the room.
$2 per minutes so far.
We head over to where our group is and sit. We attempt a conversation but it quickly becomes a game of "what tag" and we both give up for a time. Our drinks at least provide something to do: pick up the glass, take a sip, hold the liquid in your mouth and savor the flavor with a pensive look, swallow, and return the glass to the table. Repeat whenever the uncomfortable feeling of doing nothing necessitates some motion.
$1 per minute.
The bodies on the dance floor gyrate in ritual of horniness and youth. The desperation hangs thick in the air and the throbbing bass from the speakers sends the tendril-like fog of it swirling towards the alert predators. You can see them watching from the wings, waiting to strike when they see a weak or wanting prey. A lone woman dancing is alone for but a second before the hounds swarm. An obviously hammered and horny woman has more options than she knows what to do with... or perhaps she is a resourceful one and knows what to do. I laugh but it is consumed by the pounding rhythms and goes unheard.
$.50 per minute.
The DJ, in his booth, looks on smugly, as if he is a man among boys. He controls the crowd, or so he thinks. Instead he is trapped in a booth whilst others grind with the women on the floor. He dictates the sounds from his Apple laptop but misses out on any action. The only person sadder than him is his assistant who bops his head to the beat and stare out of the booth with a very creepy look, like an old man looking a little too long and little too intently on a much too young woman. He at least seems content to dance and leer by himself.
$.25 per minute.
My friend gets dragged up to dance although he obviously doesn't want to. It is the birthday of the girl dragging him up so courtesy dictates he at least half-ass a little dance. He isn't drunk enough to do it wholeheartedly and so it mostly consists of head bobs and the occasional shuffle. His unease at least entertains me a bit and I am thankful that I don't know the birthday girl enough for her to drag me up as well. He, of course, keeps his drink in his hand so that he can periodically stop dancing to take a swig. That reminds me that I still have my drink to pass the time: sip, hold, swallow, repeat.
$.10 per minute.
Finally, a few people from the group leave. They have broken the ice-- it is now acceptable to move on to another place. You never want to be the first to go, but once another has made the move it is open season. My friend and I agree we should find a new place. After a few minutes convincing the birthday girl we climb out of the dungeon and exit the bar into the real world again. The night air feels good, although my ears strain to hear the sounds of the city. Onward to new and better bars.
Just over two hours. So it only cost me about 8 cents per uncomfortable minute."
I was very tempted to go home shortly after I got there. I am, however, glad I did not. Not that any fun was had at that first place. Thankfully, we went to much more low-key Irish bar. A place where conversation is not only possible but expected. We met up with a new group of people which improved things as well.
What I thought was going to be an early night turned into a surreal night full of stories and in-jokes. A night which included, but was not limited to: ridiculous multi pronged biological analogies, Chinese government adaptability, extended pussyfooting, Bactrian Camels, street voyeurism, jumper cables, a hubcap, a steel
bladder, a man blending into a bathroom door, a vibrating couch, a philosophizing waiter, and very (and I do mean very) opaque yogurt.
It was one of the rare times I made a wise decision when faced with the "should I stay or should I go" dilemma, which I have often. This was the first time in a while that I didn't regret my decision shortly afterwards. Perhaps I've had enough experience making the wrong decision that I've learned.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Real Winners
Surprisingly, America actually picked the correct winners of the latest two reality shows:
On 'On The Lot' Will took home the top prize and now has a deal with Dreamworks to direct a movie. I was scared that somehow Jason might win the show because for some reason people seemed to like his movies. He was my least favorite person on that show and yet he stuck around. Thankfully, the best man won. (If you have no idea what this show is/was, that is OK. Apparently, looking at the ratings, I was among only 7 people who watched the show).
Also, the Ventriloquist won and deserved it. I never thought I'd say a sentence like that. But He was far and away the best person on America's Got Talent (and I said he was the best act back on June 27th here).
On another reality front, Last Comic Standing has their top 5 perform. I think Gerry Dee has the best set, with Amy Schumer next, then Ralph Harris. Lavell Crawford had a weak set and I was a bit surprised by that (I think he is safe as he has been very strong the rest of the way). But, totally expected, John Reep failed to impress again. I'd guess he is the one going home.
Having said all that, I can't wait for the real TV season to start again... so tired of reality competitions. Please, give me a scripted show!
On 'On The Lot' Will took home the top prize and now has a deal with Dreamworks to direct a movie. I was scared that somehow Jason might win the show because for some reason people seemed to like his movies. He was my least favorite person on that show and yet he stuck around. Thankfully, the best man won. (If you have no idea what this show is/was, that is OK. Apparently, looking at the ratings, I was among only 7 people who watched the show).
Also, the Ventriloquist won and deserved it. I never thought I'd say a sentence like that. But He was far and away the best person on America's Got Talent (and I said he was the best act back on June 27th here).
On another reality front, Last Comic Standing has their top 5 perform. I think Gerry Dee has the best set, with Amy Schumer next, then Ralph Harris. Lavell Crawford had a weak set and I was a bit surprised by that (I think he is safe as he has been very strong the rest of the way). But, totally expected, John Reep failed to impress again. I'd guess he is the one going home.
Having said all that, I can't wait for the real TV season to start again... so tired of reality competitions. Please, give me a scripted show!
Friday, August 3, 2007
Quick Hits
After downing two sodas and a glass of water, I had to pee. I went down to the restaurant's bathroom to do just that. The bathroom was so small I had a hard time fitting in (and while I've gained a couple of pounds recently-- now tipping the scales at a relative hefty 153-- I am not large at all). As I was going about my business, something landed on the back of my neck and I reacted with one of those full body spasms, which normally isn't that bad but while one is peeing it is best not to do that. Needless to say, I wasn't able to "stay within the lines" and, since the bathroom was so small, managed to hit three walls in a beautiful arc of urine. The mosquito that landed on my was humongous so I don't feel bad about the freak out. Plus I did get a good laugh out of it-- timing is everything in comedy and that mosquito is a natural.
I was on the 6 train on the way home from the above restaurant. Across from me sat a man reading a book. He was falling asleep doing the classic head bob and was out in a few seconds. But amazingly the book stayed in the exact same position-- all the time as his head sunk lower and lower. A woman standing next to him thought this was hilarious and pointed it out to her traveling companions (I must admit it was pretty funny). The best part was when she said, in a reverent tone, "He's got the perfect hold, doesn't he?" as if holding a book perfectly still while sleeping was one of her life goals and she was jealous that he had done it before her.
When the train stopped he jerked awake (although again amazingly his hands and the book never moved at all) and proceeded to attempt to continue reading where he left off. As soon as the train started moving he was out again. His head bobbed up and down but his book never wavered an inch the entire time... its the pointless things that impress me.
The woman from the last story, after standing for a few stops, moved towards a newly vacated seat. The person that was sitting there, not noticing that someone was moving towards the empty seat, did the natural spread out maneuver so as to not be squished when not necessary. She did not appreciate the move and yelled, "Mexican, move over!" at the man sitting there. The Mexican obliged with contemptuous glare and the woman collapsed in the seat while complaining about her hard day and how Mexicans shouldn't be stealing her seat. Where has common courtesy gone? She really should have said, "Mexican, move over please."
I found a roach in my apartment, that greatest of all "Welcome to New York"s. I grabbed the nearest spray bottled and attacked-- Lemon Pledge did nothing to it. I took another and tried again. The roach went insane, spasming and flopping around, and died in about 4 seconds. I looked in my hand-- Simply Green. Yes, the cleaner that is "non-toxic, biodegradable, environmentally safer" and "safer around your children and your pets" totally fucks up the only animal that can survive a nuclear blast.
I was on the 6 train on the way home from the above restaurant. Across from me sat a man reading a book. He was falling asleep doing the classic head bob and was out in a few seconds. But amazingly the book stayed in the exact same position-- all the time as his head sunk lower and lower. A woman standing next to him thought this was hilarious and pointed it out to her traveling companions (I must admit it was pretty funny). The best part was when she said, in a reverent tone, "He's got the perfect hold, doesn't he?" as if holding a book perfectly still while sleeping was one of her life goals and she was jealous that he had done it before her.
When the train stopped he jerked awake (although again amazingly his hands and the book never moved at all) and proceeded to attempt to continue reading where he left off. As soon as the train started moving he was out again. His head bobbed up and down but his book never wavered an inch the entire time... its the pointless things that impress me.
The woman from the last story, after standing for a few stops, moved towards a newly vacated seat. The person that was sitting there, not noticing that someone was moving towards the empty seat, did the natural spread out maneuver so as to not be squished when not necessary. She did not appreciate the move and yelled, "Mexican, move over!" at the man sitting there. The Mexican obliged with contemptuous glare and the woman collapsed in the seat while complaining about her hard day and how Mexicans shouldn't be stealing her seat. Where has common courtesy gone? She really should have said, "Mexican, move over please."
I found a roach in my apartment, that greatest of all "Welcome to New York"s. I grabbed the nearest spray bottled and attacked-- Lemon Pledge did nothing to it. I took another and tried again. The roach went insane, spasming and flopping around, and died in about 4 seconds. I looked in my hand-- Simply Green. Yes, the cleaner that is "non-toxic, biodegradable, environmentally safer" and "safer around your children and your pets" totally fucks up the only animal that can survive a nuclear blast.
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
Set course for terror... Engage!
I had a nightmare the other night for the first time in a very, very long time. I can't even remember the last time I had one before this last one, but I was probably in Elementary school.
I don't often remember my dreams. Sometimes I'll go months without recalling any of them and even when I do remember the dreams it is only a few major points and a detail or two. And it was like that for this latest one as well.
The dream started with me in jail and the story up to then was told in flashbacks (like I was in a movie or something). The flashbacks are a little blurry but in them I saw a female friend of mine murder two people (I'm not sure who the friend was but, as often happens in my dreams, I knew it was a friend but I couldn't really see her. Also I have no idea who she killed or why.).
But I was the one in jail and not this person-- although it was for some other crime and I was pretty sure related to the murders. Regardless, I was in jail. This is where the nightmare part comes in-- I knew I could turn this other person in but it wouldn't improve my situation any. I was overcome with a complete helplessness and despair the likes of which I have never felt before. It was almost suffocating.
This is also the point I should have realized it was a dream. One of the prison guards was Geordi La Forge, in full Starfleet uniform and sporting the visor. It is rather hilarious and if I were better at lucid dreaming would have figured out at this point that I probably wasn't in jail and didn't need to feel so depressed. But it didn't even register with the dream me.
When I woke up, it took a long time to realize what reality was. The negative feelings hung on for a while and thankfully when I went back to sleep it was dreamless. I wonder how this dream would be interpreted; I am sure jail and depression are covered but I doubt there is a standard interpretation for 24th century Starfleet Lieutenants that are Chief Engineers for the flagship of the Federation.
I don't often remember my dreams. Sometimes I'll go months without recalling any of them and even when I do remember the dreams it is only a few major points and a detail or two. And it was like that for this latest one as well.
The dream started with me in jail and the story up to then was told in flashbacks (like I was in a movie or something). The flashbacks are a little blurry but in them I saw a female friend of mine murder two people (I'm not sure who the friend was but, as often happens in my dreams, I knew it was a friend but I couldn't really see her. Also I have no idea who she killed or why.).
But I was the one in jail and not this person-- although it was for some other crime and I was pretty sure related to the murders. Regardless, I was in jail. This is where the nightmare part comes in-- I knew I could turn this other person in but it wouldn't improve my situation any. I was overcome with a complete helplessness and despair the likes of which I have never felt before. It was almost suffocating.
This is also the point I should have realized it was a dream. One of the prison guards was Geordi La Forge, in full Starfleet uniform and sporting the visor. It is rather hilarious and if I were better at lucid dreaming would have figured out at this point that I probably wasn't in jail and didn't need to feel so depressed. But it didn't even register with the dream me.
When I woke up, it took a long time to realize what reality was. The negative feelings hung on for a while and thankfully when I went back to sleep it was dreamless. I wonder how this dream would be interpreted; I am sure jail and depression are covered but I doubt there is a standard interpretation for 24th century Starfleet Lieutenants that are Chief Engineers for the flagship of the Federation.
Friday, July 27, 2007
George Washington Carver didn't find that usage
This is amazing... too amazing for words:
The complete lack of understanding displayed in this video is staggering. Back in Kindergarten I knew more science than the so called experts in this scathing criticism of evolution.
Apparently primordial Earth was a cosmic peanut butter sandwich that sat at room temperature after being vacusealed and pasteurized. It is natural to compare the complex beginning of life to mass produced food-- I see the connection.
The opinions in that video are so astoundingly ignorant that it is hard to make fun of them because they are already hilarious on their own (also see below).
It is time the creationists moved on from the supermarket. It isn't doing them (or Kirk Cameron) any good:
The complete lack of understanding displayed in this video is staggering. Back in Kindergarten I knew more science than the so called experts in this scathing criticism of evolution.
Apparently primordial Earth was a cosmic peanut butter sandwich that sat at room temperature after being vacusealed and pasteurized. It is natural to compare the complex beginning of life to mass produced food-- I see the connection.
The opinions in that video are so astoundingly ignorant that it is hard to make fun of them because they are already hilarious on their own (also see below).
It is time the creationists moved on from the supermarket. It isn't doing them (or Kirk Cameron) any good:
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Harry Potter and the End of a Series
Like millions of other people, I was waiting in line at a book store last night. I didn't reserve a copy so I had to wait a little longer than I should have but I got my book at a little after 1am. I went home and read for a few hours, went to sleep, woke up and continued reading until I finished.
I thought it was a bit slow to get going, although it was still interesting, but the second half of the book was very good. A fulfilling end to the series. I'm not going to go into any details yet, as I don't want to be a spoiler (Someone in the book store nearly got a beating from a lot of angry people as after she bought the book sat down at the side of the store flipped to the last chapter and announced to her friends sitting near her, in a voice much louder than necessary, a rather important detail-- I was pissed, not because she told me anything I didn't know, but that she was that rude to do that. I walked away to the far corner of the store before she let slip anything I didn't already know).
It'll be interesting to see what J.K. turns to now that the Harry Potter series is over. She better get writing soon as the money she made of this series won't last forever.
I thought it was a bit slow to get going, although it was still interesting, but the second half of the book was very good. A fulfilling end to the series. I'm not going to go into any details yet, as I don't want to be a spoiler (Someone in the book store nearly got a beating from a lot of angry people as after she bought the book sat down at the side of the store flipped to the last chapter and announced to her friends sitting near her, in a voice much louder than necessary, a rather important detail-- I was pissed, not because she told me anything I didn't know, but that she was that rude to do that. I walked away to the far corner of the store before she let slip anything I didn't already know).
It'll be interesting to see what J.K. turns to now that the Harry Potter series is over. She better get writing soon as the money she made of this series won't last forever.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Back from vacation
Sorry for the lack of posts over the past couple of weeks but I have been away on vacation. I should have mentioned that before I left because I'm sure there were a bunch of you anxiously waiting for my next post and were disappointed day after day. But do not fear, as I am back and the posts will resume. Time to rejoice.
A cube no longer, but now I am perfect.
Happy Birthday to me! (Well, actually as I type this my birthday has passed but whatever)
So I am no longer a cubic age. But 28 is even better! It is both a triangular number (a number found by adding consecutive numbers) and, much more rare, a perfect number (a number that is the sum of its factors). You'll be perfect at most twice in your life-- at 6 and 28 (unless you are Methuselah, then you'd hit 496). I had better take advantage of this perfect year as 30 is looming pretty closely... and then it is all downhill from there.
So I am no longer a cubic age. But 28 is even better! It is both a triangular number (a number found by adding consecutive numbers) and, much more rare, a perfect number (a number that is the sum of its factors). You'll be perfect at most twice in your life-- at 6 and 28 (unless you are Methuselah, then you'd hit 496). I had better take advantage of this perfect year as 30 is looming pretty closely... and then it is all downhill from there.
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
Just put your stick on the puck...
The next hockey season is a long way away but July 1st always kicks of a flurry of action as it is the start of the free agency period. My New York Rangers made a big splash signing two of the biggest players-- Scott Gomez and Chris Drury.
I'm happy with both those signings. I think Gomez is a great playmaker and will do a great job with Jagr on his wing (then again, I could do a great job with Jagr on my wing). He always was a pain in the ass when the Devils played the Rangers in the past and I hope that continues now that he is wearing the red, white, and blue jersey (a new jersey if you will... yay! bad puns!). That is what makes the signing of Gomez better-- not just that we are getting a great player but that Scott's defection from the Devils cripples a division rival.
Chris Drury is Mr. Clutch and there is no one better to have out on the ice when the game is on the line. He is a very good player and will be a benefit to the Rangers. I would have preferred the Rangers re-signing Nylander and adding Gomez rather than Gomez and Drury though. It would have saved us over $2 million a year in cap space and would have been a smaller transition in personnel. But since that ship has sailed (Nylander's ship going down to Washington), there is nothing I can do. I think Drury will do well but won't be worth the $2 million premium.
The Rangers, however, are still stronger today than they were a few days ago and it should be an exciting season. I'm guessing the Rangers win the Atlantic division with the Penguins close behind, followed by a large gap. Philly will just get into the playoffs, the Islanders will be a few spots out and the Devils will finally plummet. They will be this year as the Flyers were last year, bringing up the rear of the Eastern Conference. Brodeur is getting to old to carry that team anymore.
My guess on the end of season stat line for the two newest Rangers:
Gomez 77-26-66-92 +25
Drury 80-32-38-70 +9
I will miss Nylander as he was one of my favorite players. He was always dedicated and gave it his all even if his style was sometimes maddening. He landed in a good spot and should enjoy have Ovechkin on his wing. Good luck Swedish Gretzky.
As much as I don't like the Ranges letting Nylander go, it was just plain stupid letting Jed Ortmeyer walk. He might not have been the best offensive player but he was a defensive stalwart and a heart and soul player. Even though he wasn't setting the score sheet on fire, he set personal records for points in a greatly curtailed season. He battled back from a life threatening condition and still played with reckless abandon. No one puts his body on the line to block a shot like Ortmeyer. He could never finish a breakaway but it was always good to see him get one. Hollweg or Orr should have been shown the door instead of him, but he never complained about the situation. Nashville is getting a heck of a guy. Good luck future Lady Bing winner.
The Rangers need to go out and sign their remaining RFAs-- the King needs a long term contract. The next few days will still hold a number of interesting stories but after that there is a long, warm night until the ice comes back. Is it September yet? Let's go Rangers.
I'm happy with both those signings. I think Gomez is a great playmaker and will do a great job with Jagr on his wing (then again, I could do a great job with Jagr on my wing). He always was a pain in the ass when the Devils played the Rangers in the past and I hope that continues now that he is wearing the red, white, and blue jersey (a new jersey if you will... yay! bad puns!). That is what makes the signing of Gomez better-- not just that we are getting a great player but that Scott's defection from the Devils cripples a division rival.
Chris Drury is Mr. Clutch and there is no one better to have out on the ice when the game is on the line. He is a very good player and will be a benefit to the Rangers. I would have preferred the Rangers re-signing Nylander and adding Gomez rather than Gomez and Drury though. It would have saved us over $2 million a year in cap space and would have been a smaller transition in personnel. But since that ship has sailed (Nylander's ship going down to Washington), there is nothing I can do. I think Drury will do well but won't be worth the $2 million premium.
The Rangers, however, are still stronger today than they were a few days ago and it should be an exciting season. I'm guessing the Rangers win the Atlantic division with the Penguins close behind, followed by a large gap. Philly will just get into the playoffs, the Islanders will be a few spots out and the Devils will finally plummet. They will be this year as the Flyers were last year, bringing up the rear of the Eastern Conference. Brodeur is getting to old to carry that team anymore.
My guess on the end of season stat line for the two newest Rangers:
Gomez 77-26-66-92 +25
Drury 80-32-38-70 +9
I will miss Nylander as he was one of my favorite players. He was always dedicated and gave it his all even if his style was sometimes maddening. He landed in a good spot and should enjoy have Ovechkin on his wing. Good luck Swedish Gretzky.
As much as I don't like the Ranges letting Nylander go, it was just plain stupid letting Jed Ortmeyer walk. He might not have been the best offensive player but he was a defensive stalwart and a heart and soul player. Even though he wasn't setting the score sheet on fire, he set personal records for points in a greatly curtailed season. He battled back from a life threatening condition and still played with reckless abandon. No one puts his body on the line to block a shot like Ortmeyer. He could never finish a breakaway but it was always good to see him get one. Hollweg or Orr should have been shown the door instead of him, but he never complained about the situation. Nashville is getting a heck of a guy. Good luck future Lady Bing winner.
The Rangers need to go out and sign their remaining RFAs-- the King needs a long term contract. The next few days will still hold a number of interesting stories but after that there is a long, warm night until the ice comes back. Is it September yet? Let's go Rangers.
Poetry Night II
Tonight features the first poem I wrote at college. While I was at school, poetry became the creative outlet of the time, just like comedy is now. I went through a brief period of writing music but that took way too much time and I had little of that to spare while in college. So I'd get the occasional inspiration and write it out in verse:
The stanzas represent the past, present, and the future-- each embodied by the first line ( "In the beginning", "Now, it is", and "It will be"). Time changes just like everything else but, even as it gives the impression of change, it remains the same as each time period keeps the same rhyme scheme. The poem moves forward and gives both hints of the new and the old.
I wrote this shortly after arriving at college as I was barraged with a myriad changes in my life, just like everyone is when they have freedom thrust upon them. I was in a new place with new people dealing with new things. I had a new relationship and new classes with new challenges. But the new place turned out to be similar in many ways to places I've been, and the people reminded me of others I've known. I took the same lackadaisical approach to classes and studying that I always had in high school and it worked for me in college just as it once did (although I did work harder, I did in no way work as hard as I could).
While at first glance the poem is somewhat paradoxical, it is my verbose way of saying "the more things change the more they stay the same". Even with everything that changed around me, I was the same person. And as I took a closer look at everything that I thought was different, the surface discrepancies seemed to melt away and left an air of familiarity to them; a very general deja vu. It was all different and yet all the same. This theme, and variations of it, would appear in a number of my poems as it is a deep well from which to draw.
Change
In the beginning
it was as it was
but it changed
as everything does
but why does it
change as it does
Now, it is
as it always was
and always will be
just because
that is how it is
why, just because
It will be
as it is and as it was
it changes but
we don't know the cause
it continues anyway
and continues without pause
The stanzas represent the past, present, and the future-- each embodied by the first line ( "In the beginning", "Now, it is", and "It will be"). Time changes just like everything else but, even as it gives the impression of change, it remains the same as each time period keeps the same rhyme scheme. The poem moves forward and gives both hints of the new and the old.
I wrote this shortly after arriving at college as I was barraged with a myriad changes in my life, just like everyone is when they have freedom thrust upon them. I was in a new place with new people dealing with new things. I had a new relationship and new classes with new challenges. But the new place turned out to be similar in many ways to places I've been, and the people reminded me of others I've known. I took the same lackadaisical approach to classes and studying that I always had in high school and it worked for me in college just as it once did (although I did work harder, I did in no way work as hard as I could).
While at first glance the poem is somewhat paradoxical, it is my verbose way of saying "the more things change the more they stay the same". Even with everything that changed around me, I was the same person. And as I took a closer look at everything that I thought was different, the surface discrepancies seemed to melt away and left an air of familiarity to them; a very general deja vu. It was all different and yet all the same. This theme, and variations of it, would appear in a number of my poems as it is a deep well from which to draw.
Friday, June 29, 2007
One skip ahead of my doom
One day in 11th grade English, a bunch of friends and I decided to give each other nicknames (and when I say nicknames, it is loosely, as they were more like pseudonyms). Why we did this, I don't remember the reason. It could be that there was a substitute that day. It could be. perhaps, that we were bored and did what we may. But I think the most likely reason of all may have been that we were geeks. The ones I remember are:
David Phezzic Marselle: This one was mine. A few people thought I had a sense of humor similar to David Letterman, hence the David. "The Princess Bride" was, and still is, my favorite movie and I took the name of the "hippopotamic land mass". I thought it funny that I, a "five foot nothing, a hundred and nothing" kid, would choose the colossus' name as part of my pseudonym. Plus, I didn't think I was cool enough to pull off Westley or the Dread Pirate Roberts. (And yes, I realize that the character is spelled Fezzik in the movie but I thought the 'Ph' and 'c' were cooler... see the aforementioned geek comment). The surname comes from the name of Ross' monkey on "Friends" (yes, again, I know the spelling is different, but it is a homophone so leave me alone-- I like the look of my version better as it seems more like a surname than Marcel). For some reason, I was a big fan of Marcel. A big enough fan to take the name of a monkey as the most important part of my fictional name. Lieben meine affe-monkey!
I had always thought this would be a good nom de plume, so if I ever do write a novel it may very well be published under the name David P. Marselle. Keep an eye out for it.
Patty the Monkey: The astute "Friends" fan doesn't need any help on this one. In the episode where Mr. Heckles, the downstairs neighbor of Monica and Rachel, ends up with Marcel, he dresses him up in a dress and calls him "Patty the monkey". I wasn't the only person who had a weird obsession with Marcel; she even took his short lived cross-dressing name which was a more dedicated obsession than mine.
Wesley Trevor Harrison: I don't really remember why he chose, or was given, Wesley and Trevor. I think he just liked the sounds of the name. The last name was a homage to one of the two presidents we had with that name. I'm not sure if it was for William Henry, "the Pneumatic one-month wonder", or Benjamin, "The Other One". I'm pretty sure it was for the former, but it has been over ten years (so excuse me if I am a little foggy). He reads the blog so maybe he can comment and shed some more light on this one.
Gail Hortense Spadowksi: She cheated a bit and already had been given this pseudonym by a boyfriend. Naturally, I have no idea into the etymology of it... but the fact that he came up with it does give some insight into why that relationship was short lived.
Humperdink Tiddlywink: Another "Princess Bride" homage followed by a rhyming nonsense word (yes, I know it is a game but one that no one in my generation ever played it so for all intents and purposes it was nonsense to us). Of all the nicknames giving out that day, this one fit the person the most: crazy, entertaining, fun, and poetic.
Gary Indiana: I came up with this gem. I thought he looked like a Gary and thanks to my mom whenever I hear that name the homonymous song from the Music Man starts playing in my head. Now I have never seen the Music Man or even heard the whole song, just the refrain. My mom (and if any of my mom's brothers and sisters were around) would sing just the lines "Gary, Indiana" over and over. She'd never move on to another part of the song, I'm not even sure if they knew the rest of the song, she'd just repeat that line. It was one of the songs my mother would sing that my siblings and I would, on occasion, beg her to stop. Once I thought he looked like a Gary my Pavlovian response kicked in and I suggested this name and it was accepted by the crowd (I know why I suggested it but I don't know why they accepted it, because without the back story it is just stupid... maybe the Music Man was more popular than I thought).
Mark My Words: Another one I came up with. He looked like a Mark to me. So I just suggested this clichéd expression. Wasn't I clever? Yes, I was.
There might have been a few more, but those have long ago disappeared in the ether from my memory. Perhaps some of my classmates remember the couple I have forgotten. The funny thing is we spent the whole class coming up with these stupid names and never really used them. It is only due to my freakish memory when it comes to completely trivial things that I remember these at all. This could lead one to ask, why bother posting about names that were invented and ignored in the span of 44 minutes and haven't been used in over 10 years? It is stuff that in my brain so I might as well use it for something and I find it interesting... and don't you ever question David P. Marselle again.
David Phezzic Marselle: This one was mine. A few people thought I had a sense of humor similar to David Letterman, hence the David. "The Princess Bride" was, and still is, my favorite movie and I took the name of the "hippopotamic land mass". I thought it funny that I, a "five foot nothing, a hundred and nothing" kid, would choose the colossus' name as part of my pseudonym. Plus, I didn't think I was cool enough to pull off Westley or the Dread Pirate Roberts. (And yes, I realize that the character is spelled Fezzik in the movie but I thought the 'Ph' and 'c' were cooler... see the aforementioned geek comment). The surname comes from the name of Ross' monkey on "Friends" (yes, again, I know the spelling is different, but it is a homophone so leave me alone-- I like the look of my version better as it seems more like a surname than Marcel). For some reason, I was a big fan of Marcel. A big enough fan to take the name of a monkey as the most important part of my fictional name. Lieben meine affe-monkey!
I had always thought this would be a good nom de plume, so if I ever do write a novel it may very well be published under the name David P. Marselle. Keep an eye out for it.
Patty the Monkey: The astute "Friends" fan doesn't need any help on this one. In the episode where Mr. Heckles, the downstairs neighbor of Monica and Rachel, ends up with Marcel, he dresses him up in a dress and calls him "Patty the monkey". I wasn't the only person who had a weird obsession with Marcel; she even took his short lived cross-dressing name which was a more dedicated obsession than mine.
Wesley Trevor Harrison: I don't really remember why he chose, or was given, Wesley and Trevor. I think he just liked the sounds of the name. The last name was a homage to one of the two presidents we had with that name. I'm not sure if it was for William Henry, "the Pneumatic one-month wonder", or Benjamin, "The Other One". I'm pretty sure it was for the former, but it has been over ten years (so excuse me if I am a little foggy). He reads the blog so maybe he can comment and shed some more light on this one.
Gail Hortense Spadowksi: She cheated a bit and already had been given this pseudonym by a boyfriend. Naturally, I have no idea into the etymology of it... but the fact that he came up with it does give some insight into why that relationship was short lived.
Humperdink Tiddlywink: Another "Princess Bride" homage followed by a rhyming nonsense word (yes, I know it is a game but one that no one in my generation ever played it so for all intents and purposes it was nonsense to us). Of all the nicknames giving out that day, this one fit the person the most: crazy, entertaining, fun, and poetic.
Gary Indiana: I came up with this gem. I thought he looked like a Gary and thanks to my mom whenever I hear that name the homonymous song from the Music Man starts playing in my head. Now I have never seen the Music Man or even heard the whole song, just the refrain. My mom (and if any of my mom's brothers and sisters were around) would sing just the lines "Gary, Indiana" over and over. She'd never move on to another part of the song, I'm not even sure if they knew the rest of the song, she'd just repeat that line. It was one of the songs my mother would sing that my siblings and I would, on occasion, beg her to stop. Once I thought he looked like a Gary my Pavlovian response kicked in and I suggested this name and it was accepted by the crowd (I know why I suggested it but I don't know why they accepted it, because without the back story it is just stupid... maybe the Music Man was more popular than I thought).
Mark My Words: Another one I came up with. He looked like a Mark to me. So I just suggested this clichéd expression. Wasn't I clever? Yes, I was.
There might have been a few more, but those have long ago disappeared in the ether from my memory. Perhaps some of my classmates remember the couple I have forgotten. The funny thing is we spent the whole class coming up with these stupid names and never really used them. It is only due to my freakish memory when it comes to completely trivial things that I remember these at all. This could lead one to ask, why bother posting about names that were invented and ignored in the span of 44 minutes and haven't been used in over 10 years? It is stuff that in my brain so I might as well use it for something and I find it interesting... and don't you ever question David P. Marselle again.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
We got served... some tea and crumpets
I've been watching America's Got Talent and I'm embarrassed. First, because I am watching it at all, that is indeed embarrassing. But even worse than that is we are putting forward a pretty sad group of talent. So far the best act has been a singing ventriloquist. It could only get worse if we got a world class mime (although they are probably waiting for France's Got Talent). We've also got people on stilts, a Boy Shakira, and a number of middling singers. Here you are America, your best and brightest.
We may have beaten Britain in the Revolution but they are kicking our ass when it comes to talent. We have more that five times the people in America than in the UK but less talent (not only in raw talent are we losing, the talent per capita is hugely in there favor-- and you thought it was sad to read the education statistics). Take away Paul Potts and Connie Talbot (who both put the US singers so far to shame) and the Brits are still winning.
What makes matters even worse is the best judge is British-- not only do they have the better talent, they have the better critics as well. David Hasselhoff needs to look up the word 'hyperbole' so he'll stop thinking every mediocre act in the world is the second coming. Sharon has us wishing for the halcyon days of Brandy as the female representation at the judges table. Piers is honest and, while it may appear abrasive and mean you've got to remember that (a) he is British and (b) he was a judge on the British version so he's seen a lot better and now has had to suffer through the same thing us viewers have, so his attitude is understandable.
While I am on the judges, they need to add a little variation to there stock phrases. They like to say that "you are what this show is all about" to about half the acts. Look, it can't be all about 34 very different acts. Yes, we realize that Americans are suckers for kids, old people, and animals (just go back and watch any episode of America's Funniest Home Videos) but it can't be all about all the people all the time (but it can be all about some of the people all of the time, and all about all the people some of the time or so Abraham Lincoln thought).
Also, when someone brings David a dictionary to look up 'hyperbole' they can also bring a thesaurus so the judges can use a phrase other than '100% yes' (aside from the occasional and impossible '1,000% yes'). How about an 'emphatic yes', or a 'wholehearted yes', or an 'unequivocal yes' just to list a few. You don't need to dumb it down for the audience (although those education statistics are still depressing)... but then again, the judges may just be speaking at their usual New York Post level... except of course the Brit.
We may have beaten Britain in the Revolution but they are kicking our ass when it comes to talent. We have more that five times the people in America than in the UK but less talent (not only in raw talent are we losing, the talent per capita is hugely in there favor-- and you thought it was sad to read the education statistics). Take away Paul Potts and Connie Talbot (who both put the US singers so far to shame) and the Brits are still winning.
What makes matters even worse is the best judge is British-- not only do they have the better talent, they have the better critics as well. David Hasselhoff needs to look up the word 'hyperbole' so he'll stop thinking every mediocre act in the world is the second coming. Sharon has us wishing for the halcyon days of Brandy as the female representation at the judges table. Piers is honest and, while it may appear abrasive and mean you've got to remember that (a) he is British and (b) he was a judge on the British version so he's seen a lot better and now has had to suffer through the same thing us viewers have, so his attitude is understandable.
While I am on the judges, they need to add a little variation to there stock phrases. They like to say that "you are what this show is all about" to about half the acts. Look, it can't be all about 34 very different acts. Yes, we realize that Americans are suckers for kids, old people, and animals (just go back and watch any episode of America's Funniest Home Videos) but it can't be all about all the people all the time (but it can be all about some of the people all of the time, and all about all the people some of the time or so Abraham Lincoln thought).
Also, when someone brings David a dictionary to look up 'hyperbole' they can also bring a thesaurus so the judges can use a phrase other than '100% yes' (aside from the occasional and impossible '1,000% yes'). How about an 'emphatic yes', or a 'wholehearted yes', or an 'unequivocal yes' just to list a few. You don't need to dumb it down for the audience (although those education statistics are still depressing)... but then again, the judges may just be speaking at their usual New York Post level... except of course the Brit.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Poetry Night
I'm going to posts old poems that I've written weekly. I have a number I've written so I might as well use them for some fun purpose. In order to make it a bit more interesting, I'll give the back story to them.
The first one I'll post is the oldest one I have a copy of (although I've got a ton of old notebooks, folders, and Trapper Keepers from my middle and high school career at my parent's house so there may be some older ones I am unaware I have a copy of). This one comes from all the way back in 1995, when I was in 10th grade:
I've never been one who liked authority and this clever little poem was my 15 year old way of fighting the power. Yes, I was quite the rebel back then.
Although its message still rings true to how students are treated as cattle or prisoners that are at the whim of their captors. And in the end most students do just give in and trod along through school as mindless zombies. I'm sure I noticed the irony of someone who refuses to give in to authority writing about how everyone gives up in the end, and I'm sure I thought myself extremely clever.
The poem in its original form had an additional line at the end of, "It's Hell!!!". I added that in because, at the time, I thought the symbolism and imagery of the preceding four stanzas were just too subtle. However, as I matured I realized that was a bit much and made an artistic decision to excise that line. It is pretty much on the same scale as George Lucas going back and messing with the original Star Wars. Pretty much.
Also, part of the reason the title of this poem was particularly relevant in my 10th grade English class was because of the teacher, let's call her Mrs. T (to protect her anonymity, even though she is probably dead by now). Her classroom was a bit like hell... not because she was a bad teacher, or mean, or abusive. No, it was because she smelled horrible. Really. It is hard to describe it-- it was B.O. and yet so much more. It wasn't one of those odors you got used to after a while either; it was omnipresent. There was no escape. Particularly bad was the times we would be writing in class and she would come around and check up on you by leaning over your desk in such an odd was as to strategically position her armpit near your cowering nose. It seemed a strange way to stand and it left me to wonder if she did it intentionally.
We could always tell when Mrs. T was out sick. If we were walking down the English hallway to our classroom and we didn't smell her, we knew we had a substitute. I'm serious-- it sounds unbelievable but it's true. We had a 100% success rate using that method. Maybe that'll give you reading this a sense of the olfactory hell we went through.
Of course, there were some urban legends that went around about Mrs. T. There was a rumor that for Christmas one year one of her classes got her a present of soaps, deodorants, etc. and that she left the room crying. There was also the rumor that she smelled that way because she slept with the body of her dead husband. I know, it is horribly mean, but we were high schoolers, what do you want?
And thus is the story behind "Hell".
The first one I'll post is the oldest one I have a copy of (although I've got a ton of old notebooks, folders, and Trapper Keepers from my middle and high school career at my parent's house so there may be some older ones I am unaware I have a copy of). This one comes from all the way back in 1995, when I was in 10th grade:
Hell
The hordes march slowly toward it,
a place feared by many
How any ordinary building can be
so feared is uncanny
But of course, 'tis not the building
they really fear
but the monsters that lurk inside
that they must revere
They are herded through the doors
and down the hall
pushed towards their cells with no hope
for escape at all
You, spirit broken, just give in
and follow the masses
The bell rings, and all the kids
head for their classes
I've never been one who liked authority and this clever little poem was my 15 year old way of fighting the power. Yes, I was quite the rebel back then.
Although its message still rings true to how students are treated as cattle or prisoners that are at the whim of their captors. And in the end most students do just give in and trod along through school as mindless zombies. I'm sure I noticed the irony of someone who refuses to give in to authority writing about how everyone gives up in the end, and I'm sure I thought myself extremely clever.
The poem in its original form had an additional line at the end of, "It's Hell!!!". I added that in because, at the time, I thought the symbolism and imagery of the preceding four stanzas were just too subtle. However, as I matured I realized that was a bit much and made an artistic decision to excise that line. It is pretty much on the same scale as George Lucas going back and messing with the original Star Wars. Pretty much.
Also, part of the reason the title of this poem was particularly relevant in my 10th grade English class was because of the teacher, let's call her Mrs. T (to protect her anonymity, even though she is probably dead by now). Her classroom was a bit like hell... not because she was a bad teacher, or mean, or abusive. No, it was because she smelled horrible. Really. It is hard to describe it-- it was B.O. and yet so much more. It wasn't one of those odors you got used to after a while either; it was omnipresent. There was no escape. Particularly bad was the times we would be writing in class and she would come around and check up on you by leaning over your desk in such an odd was as to strategically position her armpit near your cowering nose. It seemed a strange way to stand and it left me to wonder if she did it intentionally.
We could always tell when Mrs. T was out sick. If we were walking down the English hallway to our classroom and we didn't smell her, we knew we had a substitute. I'm serious-- it sounds unbelievable but it's true. We had a 100% success rate using that method. Maybe that'll give you reading this a sense of the olfactory hell we went through.
Of course, there were some urban legends that went around about Mrs. T. There was a rumor that for Christmas one year one of her classes got her a present of soaps, deodorants, etc. and that she left the room crying. There was also the rumor that she smelled that way because she slept with the body of her dead husband. I know, it is horribly mean, but we were high schoolers, what do you want?
And thus is the story behind "Hell".
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Procrastination Perpetuation
I just purchased Civilization 4 yesterday. It's a great game of course and somewhat familiar as I've played the three previous versions. I'm not exactly sure why I bought it other than I had some free time and I know I'd enjoy playing it.
Of course, one of the main reasons not to by it is that I have some free time and I know I'd enjoy playing it. Civilization is the type of game you settle down to play for a while at night before you go to bed and then watch the sunrise. You find yourself saying, "I just need to conquer the Romans then build the Great Pyramids and then I'll go to bed". And it is the only context I know where you can say Mahatma Gandhi is being a prick and not get dirty looks.
If I add up all the time I've spent playing the various incarnations of the Civilization games, it would probably be enough to write a novel, or a symphony, or cure some disease. Think of all the wondrous things people could have done if they had spent their time on more noble pursuits. Just think about it... while I go and attack Louis the XIV and build Stonehenge.
Sid Meier is the devil.
Of course, one of the main reasons not to by it is that I have some free time and I know I'd enjoy playing it. Civilization is the type of game you settle down to play for a while at night before you go to bed and then watch the sunrise. You find yourself saying, "I just need to conquer the Romans then build the Great Pyramids and then I'll go to bed". And it is the only context I know where you can say Mahatma Gandhi is being a prick and not get dirty looks.
If I add up all the time I've spent playing the various incarnations of the Civilization games, it would probably be enough to write a novel, or a symphony, or cure some disease. Think of all the wondrous things people could have done if they had spent their time on more noble pursuits. Just think about it... while I go and attack Louis the XIV and build Stonehenge.
Sid Meier is the devil.
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Revisiting an old essay
I was rather annoyed by the latest veto by President Bush (see previous post for more on that) so I decided to go back and look at an essay I wrote following the last presidential election. After reading it, I thought why not post it here. So I will:
Reaction to the Election and the Current Condition of the United States of America:
What follows are my opinions about the current state of America. I am neither a Democrat nor a Republican. I am not a Christian, or Jew, or Muslim. For the following, I am only a concerned citizen and was inspired to write this after seeing the results of the election. I cannot sit idly by while I see events transpiring of which I do not approve. To wit, I choose to us the pen, electronic though it may be, to express and disseminate my thoughts on the subject.
I do not expect that everyone that reads the following will agree with everything contained therein. I do, however, ask that you will grant me the right to my opinions as I would surely grant you yours. It is only through honest discourse that we can hope to understand each other and so I have endeavored to provide just that.
November 3, 2004
I have never been more ashamed to be an American. There were times in the past I have not been proud, but they were few and fleeting. But I have never experienced something like this, never a deep and utter disconnection with this country. It is a feeling entirely new to me and one I hope can be healed in time.
When George W. Bush won four years ago, it was acceptable; it was excusable. Back then he was at least a candidate who was not entirely known to the American people. A modicum of faith in him that he could lead the country to a better time was an understandable opinion, even if it was not a universal one. Many people knew of his name only through his father, who was president for a single term before being voted out. We could have looked at his father's record and thought of the younger Bush, "He may run our economy into the ground, run up a huge deficit, and get involved in a land war in Asia". But what was the chance of those things happening again? He was not my candidate of choice back in 2000 but I did not hold any animosity towards him for I did not have the foresight to know what I do now.
Fast forward four years to the election that took place last night. It was surreal. I could not comprehend what I was witnessing. The red spreading across the maps looked like the blood of this nation flowing from a great gash in her heart. The single vote I cast could not hold back that torrent. I could do nothing but watch in horror and bitter disappointment; George W. Bush will be in the White House again.
But in the end, it is not Bush in whom I am disappointed. It is not possible to be disappointed in someone when you have no expectations. Any expectations of him being a true leader had long ago evaporated away. No, I reserve that feeling for the American people. I blame them because I thought they would be wise enough to choose correctly and right the wrong they made last election. I thought for sure the people would come together and ask for a change. I had faith in my fellow man and he stabbed me in the back.
Although voter turnout was at it highest level in nearly forty years, apathy was, ironically, at its highest level ever. A majority of voters turned a blind eye to what has been happening these past four years. They did not care about the hundreds or Americans who died fighting our president's war. They did not care for all those who have lost their jobs. They did not care that prejudice and hatred are becoming more rampant and more acceptable. They did not care that the Earth that sustains them lies dying at their feet. And most importantly, they did not care about the ideals for which America stands.
The war in Iraq rages on with no end in sight with more and more people dying nearly every day. Why President Bush started this war is still shrouded in mystery. The administration originally claimed it was to remove weapons of mass destruction from the clutches of a tyrant. When those were found to be non-existent, the primary reason became to remove Saddam Hussein from power and in the process cripple a strong ally of Al-Qaeda. When that connection was found to be tenuous at best, the impetus again shifted, this time to bring freedom to the people of Iraq.
I will ignore for the time being that Bush obviously lied to the people of the United States, hoping that we were either too stupid or too scared to notice those lies. He thought that we did not need or deserve to know the truth as to why we fight and die. Instead he left us to guess the reason for ourselves: Was it to avenge the ills Saddam caused his father? Was it for the oil? Was it to increase the coffers of his friends? Your guess is as good as mine.
I will instead focus on what has become the ultimate justification of the war, the ultimate justification for the time being anyway. Bush now claims that the reason why many Americans are risking their lives is to bring freedom to Iraq. Could he have come up with a more ludicrous lie? He might as well claim that he fights to bring peace or that he kills to bring life. One cannot bring freedom to a nation by occupying it and forcing freedom down its throat. The only thing that will succeed in doing is choking the fledgling country and in turn will cause it to reject that which you wanted to give. A democracy forged in this way, from without rather than within, cannot survive; lasting freedom cannot be attained in this manner and it is the height of hypocrisy to even try.
Every person on this earth has the right to be free. We have liberties here in this country that most other people can only experience in their dreams. Unfortunately, we most often take these for granted but there are times that it hits us how fortunate we really are. I would love for everyone in the world to be able to have what I have. In order for a people to be truly free, however, they must want to be free. They must be willing to risk everything for it; they must as one rise up and demand it. From the crucible of this fight for freedom comes a unity of purpose that can sustain a nation.
The situation in Iraq is the exact opposite. The people are not demanding that they be given freedom we are instead demanding they take it. They do not want their liberty this way and the more we try to force it upon them the more they will resist and fight back. We see this growing resistance everyday in grisly scenes from the frontline of the war. Do you think if England just granted us independence without a fight that we would be the country we are today, or that we would be a country today at all?
The hypocrisy of the war is joined by another as egregious. Bush browbeats the people of Iraq to take the freedom he offers as he tries to deny the citizens of his own country the same. He claims to stand for freedom for everyone in the world while simultaneously trying to push all the gay Americans back into the closet and all the heathens down into hell.
Bush wants to write bigotry back into the Constitution. As if the stains of the "3/5 of all other persons" and the absence of equal rights in the original were not bad enough, he now wants to wipe his ass on our founding document and add another stain; this one of religious righteousness. At least those former travesties were corrected; corrected, but not erased. And it is better that the memories linger, rather than be abolished, so that we can learn from the mistakes of our past. We should realize that every time we try and add prejudice to the supreme law of this land that our children or our children's children will certainly not only fix that error but will also look back and judge us harshly as a result.
We declared our independence so that we could all enjoy "Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness". If one gay person's happiness comes from putting a ring on the finger of another and declaring their undying love for them in front of their friends and family, who am I, or anyone, to tell them they cannot enjoy that which straight America considers a personal right? If two adults want to become one-- emotionally and physically-- where could I, or anyone, possible assume the authority to tell them no?
If the president wants to protect the sanctity of marriage maybe he should investigate why nearly half of marriages end in divorce in this country. I find it a larger scar on the face of marriage that so many people take their vows so lightly as to discard them like a used tissue than two men or two women trying to declare their deep and undeniable love for each other. We can learn from those that strive for their right to a marriage, for when you have to fight for something, it becomes more important than if it is yours be assumption. I doubt that the gay couples that were fortunate enough to get married will rend their union as easily and wantonly as the rest of America.
The president looks to his religion to be the guiding light in his life, and it is his right to do so. If he wants to pray for strength and wisdom, or tithe to his church, or read the bible, he is free to do just that. But as soon as he makes his church’s doctrine into the law, it is sin, a crime against the United States. He is taking away every American’s right to choose their own creed. It should offend every citizen and Christians doubly so, as he is preying on your sympathy as a religious peer to manipulate and use you.
Bush’s actions are in direct violation of the Constitution, the document he swore to preserve, protect, and defend when he took the oath of office. An oath he obviously deems to be trumped by his church’s law. This is ironic, since when he made the aforementioned promise his hand was resting upon the bible. So in breaking this oath, it was not only a blasphemy against the most sacred document of this country but also against the most sacred document of his religion.
Bush wants everyone in America to pray to the God he prays to, to worship the God he worships, and to believe only what his God wants us to believe. If you are not a Christian now, you will be. You are becoming one by proxy; you are being baptized by legislation and confirmed by your vote to keep this man in the position as reverend for the country.
Many people came to this country seeking a religious safe harbor. They came to escape the prejudice and persecution of their homeland and to be free to pray to Jesus, Allah, Yahweh, or one of a million other deities in the heavens. Where can we sail to now to find that same religious freedom?
In an ironic display of sanctimony, Bush fights against countries that have fanatical religious leaders forcing the populous to submit to their demands while he turns this country into one that has a fanatical religious leader forcing the populous to submit to him and his cronies. The difference is that he believes himself to be a warrior for Jesus Christ and they claim to be the same for Allah. He prophesizes that God will lead us to victory as his enemies echo the sentiment on behave of their followers. How long will it take him to learn he is fighting his reflection? How long will it take the people of this country?
Winston Churchill once said "All men make mistakes, but only wise men learn from them". Since our president seems incapable of admitting that he is fallible, one cannot help but think that he is neither wise nor has he learned anything from his first term as president. If this is indeed the case, it does not augur well for what is to come. The difference this time is that the president no longer has to concern himself with re-election. There is nothing left to temper his actions, as bad as the last term has been, the next one has all the signs of being worse. We are being lead to a future that is dark and perilous not only for America but for the world as well.
President Bush does not lead by persuasion, or charisma, or intelligence. He leads by intimidation and fear and lays these on thick in the stead of anything redeeming. He is the Wizard of Oz; a charlatan who impresses with smoke and fire and attempts to make you afraid in order to distract you from what is actually transpiring. In reality behind the curtain of those conspicuous displays of power and misdirection stands a man of hypocrisy: saying one thing and doing another, claiming to believe in something and striving to bring about the opposite.
The people of America have again foolishly put their future in the hands of a man who has already proven he cannot be trusted with that honor. I had hoped in the end that right would conquer wrong, good would vanquish evil, but it did not happen. I have been taught that that is the way it should be; that is the way it must be. It is clichéd but I believed it. Clichés are so commonplace because they all hold in them a core of truth. "Look before you leap", that is just sound advice. That advice, however, was ignored and as a country we clenched our eyes shut and took a giant leap of faith. As a result of this action we are going to plummet, far and fast, and I fear where we will land.
This is not one of those events that in a few years I will be able to look back on and laugh. No, I will look back and cry: cry for the brave people that will die trying to bring freedom to a country that does not want to be free, for the people that will experience state sanctioned prejudice, for the millions of families who will suffer through economic hardships, for the shell that mother earth will be after she is stripped and raped of all that she has to offer. Most tragically, I will weep for the loss of what our founding fathers, all of them, fought and died for: the ideal that was America
Reaction to the Election and the Current Condition of the United States of America:
What follows are my opinions about the current state of America. I am neither a Democrat nor a Republican. I am not a Christian, or Jew, or Muslim. For the following, I am only a concerned citizen and was inspired to write this after seeing the results of the election. I cannot sit idly by while I see events transpiring of which I do not approve. To wit, I choose to us the pen, electronic though it may be, to express and disseminate my thoughts on the subject.
I do not expect that everyone that reads the following will agree with everything contained therein. I do, however, ask that you will grant me the right to my opinions as I would surely grant you yours. It is only through honest discourse that we can hope to understand each other and so I have endeavored to provide just that.
November 3, 2004
I have never been more ashamed to be an American. There were times in the past I have not been proud, but they were few and fleeting. But I have never experienced something like this, never a deep and utter disconnection with this country. It is a feeling entirely new to me and one I hope can be healed in time.
When George W. Bush won four years ago, it was acceptable; it was excusable. Back then he was at least a candidate who was not entirely known to the American people. A modicum of faith in him that he could lead the country to a better time was an understandable opinion, even if it was not a universal one. Many people knew of his name only through his father, who was president for a single term before being voted out. We could have looked at his father's record and thought of the younger Bush, "He may run our economy into the ground, run up a huge deficit, and get involved in a land war in Asia". But what was the chance of those things happening again? He was not my candidate of choice back in 2000 but I did not hold any animosity towards him for I did not have the foresight to know what I do now.
Fast forward four years to the election that took place last night. It was surreal. I could not comprehend what I was witnessing. The red spreading across the maps looked like the blood of this nation flowing from a great gash in her heart. The single vote I cast could not hold back that torrent. I could do nothing but watch in horror and bitter disappointment; George W. Bush will be in the White House again.
But in the end, it is not Bush in whom I am disappointed. It is not possible to be disappointed in someone when you have no expectations. Any expectations of him being a true leader had long ago evaporated away. No, I reserve that feeling for the American people. I blame them because I thought they would be wise enough to choose correctly and right the wrong they made last election. I thought for sure the people would come together and ask for a change. I had faith in my fellow man and he stabbed me in the back.
Although voter turnout was at it highest level in nearly forty years, apathy was, ironically, at its highest level ever. A majority of voters turned a blind eye to what has been happening these past four years. They did not care about the hundreds or Americans who died fighting our president's war. They did not care for all those who have lost their jobs. They did not care that prejudice and hatred are becoming more rampant and more acceptable. They did not care that the Earth that sustains them lies dying at their feet. And most importantly, they did not care about the ideals for which America stands.
The war in Iraq rages on with no end in sight with more and more people dying nearly every day. Why President Bush started this war is still shrouded in mystery. The administration originally claimed it was to remove weapons of mass destruction from the clutches of a tyrant. When those were found to be non-existent, the primary reason became to remove Saddam Hussein from power and in the process cripple a strong ally of Al-Qaeda. When that connection was found to be tenuous at best, the impetus again shifted, this time to bring freedom to the people of Iraq.
I will ignore for the time being that Bush obviously lied to the people of the United States, hoping that we were either too stupid or too scared to notice those lies. He thought that we did not need or deserve to know the truth as to why we fight and die. Instead he left us to guess the reason for ourselves: Was it to avenge the ills Saddam caused his father? Was it for the oil? Was it to increase the coffers of his friends? Your guess is as good as mine.
I will instead focus on what has become the ultimate justification of the war, the ultimate justification for the time being anyway. Bush now claims that the reason why many Americans are risking their lives is to bring freedom to Iraq. Could he have come up with a more ludicrous lie? He might as well claim that he fights to bring peace or that he kills to bring life. One cannot bring freedom to a nation by occupying it and forcing freedom down its throat. The only thing that will succeed in doing is choking the fledgling country and in turn will cause it to reject that which you wanted to give. A democracy forged in this way, from without rather than within, cannot survive; lasting freedom cannot be attained in this manner and it is the height of hypocrisy to even try.
Every person on this earth has the right to be free. We have liberties here in this country that most other people can only experience in their dreams. Unfortunately, we most often take these for granted but there are times that it hits us how fortunate we really are. I would love for everyone in the world to be able to have what I have. In order for a people to be truly free, however, they must want to be free. They must be willing to risk everything for it; they must as one rise up and demand it. From the crucible of this fight for freedom comes a unity of purpose that can sustain a nation.
The situation in Iraq is the exact opposite. The people are not demanding that they be given freedom we are instead demanding they take it. They do not want their liberty this way and the more we try to force it upon them the more they will resist and fight back. We see this growing resistance everyday in grisly scenes from the frontline of the war. Do you think if England just granted us independence without a fight that we would be the country we are today, or that we would be a country today at all?
The hypocrisy of the war is joined by another as egregious. Bush browbeats the people of Iraq to take the freedom he offers as he tries to deny the citizens of his own country the same. He claims to stand for freedom for everyone in the world while simultaneously trying to push all the gay Americans back into the closet and all the heathens down into hell.
Bush wants to write bigotry back into the Constitution. As if the stains of the "3/5 of all other persons" and the absence of equal rights in the original were not bad enough, he now wants to wipe his ass on our founding document and add another stain; this one of religious righteousness. At least those former travesties were corrected; corrected, but not erased. And it is better that the memories linger, rather than be abolished, so that we can learn from the mistakes of our past. We should realize that every time we try and add prejudice to the supreme law of this land that our children or our children's children will certainly not only fix that error but will also look back and judge us harshly as a result.
We declared our independence so that we could all enjoy "Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness". If one gay person's happiness comes from putting a ring on the finger of another and declaring their undying love for them in front of their friends and family, who am I, or anyone, to tell them they cannot enjoy that which straight America considers a personal right? If two adults want to become one-- emotionally and physically-- where could I, or anyone, possible assume the authority to tell them no?
If the president wants to protect the sanctity of marriage maybe he should investigate why nearly half of marriages end in divorce in this country. I find it a larger scar on the face of marriage that so many people take their vows so lightly as to discard them like a used tissue than two men or two women trying to declare their deep and undeniable love for each other. We can learn from those that strive for their right to a marriage, for when you have to fight for something, it becomes more important than if it is yours be assumption. I doubt that the gay couples that were fortunate enough to get married will rend their union as easily and wantonly as the rest of America.
The president looks to his religion to be the guiding light in his life, and it is his right to do so. If he wants to pray for strength and wisdom, or tithe to his church, or read the bible, he is free to do just that. But as soon as he makes his church’s doctrine into the law, it is sin, a crime against the United States. He is taking away every American’s right to choose their own creed. It should offend every citizen and Christians doubly so, as he is preying on your sympathy as a religious peer to manipulate and use you.
Bush’s actions are in direct violation of the Constitution, the document he swore to preserve, protect, and defend when he took the oath of office. An oath he obviously deems to be trumped by his church’s law. This is ironic, since when he made the aforementioned promise his hand was resting upon the bible. So in breaking this oath, it was not only a blasphemy against the most sacred document of this country but also against the most sacred document of his religion.
Bush wants everyone in America to pray to the God he prays to, to worship the God he worships, and to believe only what his God wants us to believe. If you are not a Christian now, you will be. You are becoming one by proxy; you are being baptized by legislation and confirmed by your vote to keep this man in the position as reverend for the country.
Many people came to this country seeking a religious safe harbor. They came to escape the prejudice and persecution of their homeland and to be free to pray to Jesus, Allah, Yahweh, or one of a million other deities in the heavens. Where can we sail to now to find that same religious freedom?
In an ironic display of sanctimony, Bush fights against countries that have fanatical religious leaders forcing the populous to submit to their demands while he turns this country into one that has a fanatical religious leader forcing the populous to submit to him and his cronies. The difference is that he believes himself to be a warrior for Jesus Christ and they claim to be the same for Allah. He prophesizes that God will lead us to victory as his enemies echo the sentiment on behave of their followers. How long will it take him to learn he is fighting his reflection? How long will it take the people of this country?
Winston Churchill once said "All men make mistakes, but only wise men learn from them". Since our president seems incapable of admitting that he is fallible, one cannot help but think that he is neither wise nor has he learned anything from his first term as president. If this is indeed the case, it does not augur well for what is to come. The difference this time is that the president no longer has to concern himself with re-election. There is nothing left to temper his actions, as bad as the last term has been, the next one has all the signs of being worse. We are being lead to a future that is dark and perilous not only for America but for the world as well.
President Bush does not lead by persuasion, or charisma, or intelligence. He leads by intimidation and fear and lays these on thick in the stead of anything redeeming. He is the Wizard of Oz; a charlatan who impresses with smoke and fire and attempts to make you afraid in order to distract you from what is actually transpiring. In reality behind the curtain of those conspicuous displays of power and misdirection stands a man of hypocrisy: saying one thing and doing another, claiming to believe in something and striving to bring about the opposite.
The people of America have again foolishly put their future in the hands of a man who has already proven he cannot be trusted with that honor. I had hoped in the end that right would conquer wrong, good would vanquish evil, but it did not happen. I have been taught that that is the way it should be; that is the way it must be. It is clichéd but I believed it. Clichés are so commonplace because they all hold in them a core of truth. "Look before you leap", that is just sound advice. That advice, however, was ignored and as a country we clenched our eyes shut and took a giant leap of faith. As a result of this action we are going to plummet, far and fast, and I fear where we will land.
This is not one of those events that in a few years I will be able to look back on and laugh. No, I will look back and cry: cry for the brave people that will die trying to bring freedom to a country that does not want to be free, for the people that will experience state sanctioned prejudice, for the millions of families who will suffer through economic hardships, for the shell that mother earth will be after she is stripped and raped of all that she has to offer. Most tragically, I will weep for the loss of what our founding fathers, all of them, fought and died for: the ideal that was America
Veto Corleone
The Godfather of our country once again vetoed a bill to expand stem cell research and funding. He did so to prevent us from crossing a "moral line". It is amazing President Bush can see that particular moral line through the maze of other lines he has already crossed: torture, wire tapping, holding prisoners indefinitely with no charges, no bid contracts for his cronies' companies, etc. etc ad nauseam. Yes, good call Mr. Bush. It is much more moral just throw the embryos in the trash, which is what is being done, than to use them for medical research. Way to protect life and stay on the right side of that moral line.
Bush wants more "ethically responsible" research. What can be more ethical than putting to use something that would have discarded anyway? It is a good thing that someone with no scientific expertise, or training, or even understanding is recommending to scientists the research avenues they should pursue. Is it too much to ask for the president to defer to not only the vast majority of scientists but the majority of Americans on this issue? Hell, Is it too much to ask for a president who would pass a 9th grade Biology class?
The president said, "Destroying human life in the hopes of saving human life is not ethical." While I would agree with this statement in a more general context, it is just ludicrous here. First, The microscopic collection of cells we are dealing with here doesn't qualify as human life. Even more important, and even though I've mentioned it already it deserves repeating, the embryos are being destroyed anyway! Even if I concede the point that the embryos are human life for the sake of argument, it is still more ethical to use them for research than to use them as landfill fodder. For if it not ethical to destroy human life in the hopes of saving human life, it is just abhorrent and evil to destroy human life for no reason when it held the promise of a better future for millions of people.
Bush wants more "ethically responsible" research. What can be more ethical than putting to use something that would have discarded anyway? It is a good thing that someone with no scientific expertise, or training, or even understanding is recommending to scientists the research avenues they should pursue. Is it too much to ask for the president to defer to not only the vast majority of scientists but the majority of Americans on this issue? Hell, Is it too much to ask for a president who would pass a 9th grade Biology class?
The president said, "Destroying human life in the hopes of saving human life is not ethical." While I would agree with this statement in a more general context, it is just ludicrous here. First, The microscopic collection of cells we are dealing with here doesn't qualify as human life. Even more important, and even though I've mentioned it already it deserves repeating, the embryos are being destroyed anyway! Even if I concede the point that the embryos are human life for the sake of argument, it is still more ethical to use them for research than to use them as landfill fodder. For if it not ethical to destroy human life in the hopes of saving human life, it is just abhorrent and evil to destroy human life for no reason when it held the promise of a better future for millions of people.
And God spake all these words from his Hummer, saying...
The Vatican released the Drivers' Ten Commandments today. I guess they figured after the incredible success of the first list of commandments, a sequel was necessary. And so, a few millennia later we get this long (very long) awaited follow-up to the basis of all morality in the history of the world. Let's examine:
Drivers' Ten Commandments
1. You shall not kill
It seems that god's ego has dipped a bit since the original list as the first one isn't all about him. Nope, we get a classic in a new position. Take it Casey: Moving up from the number 5 spot to the top of the list is the remake of the old classic 'Thou shalt not kill' with a more modern lexicon.
2. The road shall be for you a means of communion between people and not of mortal harm.
a.k.a. You shall not kill. We are only on the second one and it is already repetitive. You know you don't have to make a list of ten just because the first was that length. Brevity is the soul of wit (I worked in a reference to the soul just as the Vatican worked in a subtle reference to a blessed sacrament... The road shall be for you a means of Matrimony between people. No? How about: Baptism between people? Anointing of the Sick between people? ... )
3. Courtesy, uprightness and prudence will help you deal with unforeseen events.
... in bed. I've read this one before-- Following a meal of sesame chicken, it came in a cookie. Apparently, The Vatican has had enough of commandments and now looks to Confucius for some advice. Seriously, you don't have to have 10.
4. Be charitable and help your neighbor in need, especially victims of accidents.
And thus continues god's obsession with your neighbor. God forbid (literally) if you help someone who doesn't live near you. Especially since in this context you will be driving all over the place, what are the odds you'll see a neighbor in need out there?
5. Cars shall not be for you an expression of power and domination, and an occasion of sin.
Of course not! Cars aren't an expression of power and domination... they are an expression of penis size. So it has always been and always will be. Cars are an expression of penis size, and an occasion of sin (if you are lucky).
6. Charitably convince the young and not so young not to drive when they are not in a fitting condition to do so.
Perhaps when you write the commandments in Italian (or Latin or Hebrew or Aramaic or in tongues) you shouldn't just run them through Babelfish to get the English version. Although how cool of an option would that be: English to tongues.
7. Support the families of accident victims.
Yeah, we really, really want 10 of these so instead of just tack this one on the end of #4 where it belongs we'll just make another one. Almost there! We just need to think of three more...
8. Bring guilty motorists and their victims together, at the appropriate time, so that they can undergo the liberating experience of forgiveness.
Welcome to the Jerry Springer Show...
9. On the road, protect the more vulnerable party.
Animals on the road are the most vulnerable party. Oh how the priorities of the Catholic church has changed. Screw grandma in her Mini, Watch out for that squirrel!
10. Feel responsible toward others.
Yes, I often feel responsible when the douche in front of me doesn't signal and cuts me off. You're right, it's my fault. I should go self-flagellate.
Well, there you have it, another masterpiece in morality. Come back in another few thousand years when we'll get "The Ten Commandments 3: At World's End". Read about it in Revelation.
Drivers' Ten Commandments
1. You shall not kill
It seems that god's ego has dipped a bit since the original list as the first one isn't all about him. Nope, we get a classic in a new position. Take it Casey: Moving up from the number 5 spot to the top of the list is the remake of the old classic 'Thou shalt not kill' with a more modern lexicon.
2. The road shall be for you a means of communion between people and not of mortal harm.
a.k.a. You shall not kill. We are only on the second one and it is already repetitive. You know you don't have to make a list of ten just because the first was that length. Brevity is the soul of wit (I worked in a reference to the soul just as the Vatican worked in a subtle reference to a blessed sacrament... The road shall be for you a means of Matrimony between people. No? How about: Baptism between people? Anointing of the Sick between people? ... )
3. Courtesy, uprightness and prudence will help you deal with unforeseen events.
... in bed. I've read this one before-- Following a meal of sesame chicken, it came in a cookie. Apparently, The Vatican has had enough of commandments and now looks to Confucius for some advice. Seriously, you don't have to have 10.
4. Be charitable and help your neighbor in need, especially victims of accidents.
And thus continues god's obsession with your neighbor. God forbid (literally) if you help someone who doesn't live near you. Especially since in this context you will be driving all over the place, what are the odds you'll see a neighbor in need out there?
5. Cars shall not be for you an expression of power and domination, and an occasion of sin.
Of course not! Cars aren't an expression of power and domination... they are an expression of penis size. So it has always been and always will be. Cars are an expression of penis size, and an occasion of sin (if you are lucky).
6. Charitably convince the young and not so young not to drive when they are not in a fitting condition to do so.
Perhaps when you write the commandments in Italian (or Latin or Hebrew or Aramaic or in tongues) you shouldn't just run them through Babelfish to get the English version. Although how cool of an option would that be: English to tongues.
7. Support the families of accident victims.
Yeah, we really, really want 10 of these so instead of just tack this one on the end of #4 where it belongs we'll just make another one. Almost there! We just need to think of three more...
8. Bring guilty motorists and their victims together, at the appropriate time, so that they can undergo the liberating experience of forgiveness.
Welcome to the Jerry Springer Show...
9. On the road, protect the more vulnerable party.
Animals on the road are the most vulnerable party. Oh how the priorities of the Catholic church has changed. Screw grandma in her Mini, Watch out for that squirrel!
10. Feel responsible toward others.
Yes, I often feel responsible when the douche in front of me doesn't signal and cuts me off. You're right, it's my fault. I should go self-flagellate.
Well, there you have it, another masterpiece in morality. Come back in another few thousand years when we'll get "The Ten Commandments 3: At World's End". Read about it in Revelation.
Monday, June 18, 2007
That's more like it
I was walking down 20th St the other day and witnessed something I am very surprised doesn't happen much more often. A woman was hit by one of the myriad bike delivery people. I didn't actually see the actual meeting of bike and flesh but was alerted to the incident by a loud squeak of surprise and pain coming from the woman.
When I looked at the accident, she was seated on the ground with a not-so-happy expression on her face. Her boyfriend and the rider both helped her up and she brushed herself off. The couple started crossing the street and the delivery man started away. I was surprised and disappointed at the civility of all parties involved.
But that all changed when she had made it about halfway across the street-- I saw her epiphany like a bolt of lightning. Thankfully (to me anyway), this wasn't over yet. She turned and yelled back at the rider, "Fucking asshole!" That's right. Be true to who you are, baby. You're a New Yorker.
I had to stifle a laugh as I walked past them.
When I looked at the accident, she was seated on the ground with a not-so-happy expression on her face. Her boyfriend and the rider both helped her up and she brushed herself off. The couple started crossing the street and the delivery man started away. I was surprised and disappointed at the civility of all parties involved.
But that all changed when she had made it about halfway across the street-- I saw her epiphany like a bolt of lightning. Thankfully (to me anyway), this wasn't over yet. She turned and yelled back at the rider, "Fucking asshole!" That's right. Be true to who you are, baby. You're a New Yorker.
I had to stifle a laugh as I walked past them.
Regrets, I've had a few...
I don't trust anyone who says they have no regrets in life. To me this means either they haven't really examined their life and their choices or they are lying. The former is willfully ignorant and the latter is, well, a liar. We all have them and all have to deal with them, whether or not we want to admit it to ourselves or to others.
Regrets usually come in one of two very basic flavors:
I recently took care of one of my type 1 regrets. It turned out exactly as I expected... and exactly the opposite of how I hoped. Reality has a way of getting in the way of things all too often. Ironically, the resolution of my type 1 regret has formed a new type 2 regret. But at least it isn't a coward's regret anymore, it is a hero's regret... and while that makes it sound better, it doesn't make it feel any better.
Regrets usually come in one of two very basic flavors:
- I didn't do X but I should have
- I did X but I shouldn't have
I recently took care of one of my type 1 regrets. It turned out exactly as I expected... and exactly the opposite of how I hoped. Reality has a way of getting in the way of things all too often. Ironically, the resolution of my type 1 regret has formed a new type 2 regret. But at least it isn't a coward's regret anymore, it is a hero's regret... and while that makes it sound better, it doesn't make it feel any better.
In the beginning...
I've been thinking of starting a blog for a long time and I finally have given in and done it. I need something to motivate myself to write and a blog is a good tool. There is nothing more motivating than angry blog readers yelling at you for not updating in a long time (assuming I'll have some readers who would care).
I don't see this being a log of my life because, I'll admit, it'd be boring. Sure, they'll be stuff about me but I am not going to give a effective re-enactment via text of my day. Instead, I see it being a creative outlet for me. Being a man of many facets I would expect my posts here to cover a lot of different topics. I hope this blog will put a song in your heart, a spring in your step, a tear in your eye, and ants in your pants (I think that sentence sums up pretty well what I am going after).
You'll see two contributors to this blog but they are both me. One is my comedy self and the posts that are meant to be in that realm will be posted under that one. The other is just plain old me and will be focused on more personal matters: both about me specifically and about people in general. You are all smart people so I'll leave you to figure out which is which.
Enjoy!
I don't see this being a log of my life because, I'll admit, it'd be boring. Sure, they'll be stuff about me but I am not going to give a effective re-enactment via text of my day. Instead, I see it being a creative outlet for me. Being a man of many facets I would expect my posts here to cover a lot of different topics. I hope this blog will put a song in your heart, a spring in your step, a tear in your eye, and ants in your pants (I think that sentence sums up pretty well what I am going after).
You'll see two contributors to this blog but they are both me. One is my comedy self and the posts that are meant to be in that realm will be posted under that one. The other is just plain old me and will be focused on more personal matters: both about me specifically and about people in general. You are all smart people so I'll leave you to figure out which is which.
Enjoy!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)