On my last day at work ,I came in twenty minutes late. Normally, that wouldn't be a big deal, but today it made me feel like a big ol' jerk.
Some of my co-workers had set up a surprise party and layed out a major pot-luck spread. Chili, a carrot cake, cupcakes, homeade jalepeno cream cheese and crackers , chicken salad sandwiches and more, more , more. Toss in a few really sweet good-bye cards for good measure.
I can't stress how much this means to me.
They didn't have to do that. It wasn't a Company event, it was just the people I actually worked with, folks who, once we got used to each other, got along quite well. We had two major flood events here and that sent us into crisis mode.
During a crisis, good people put aside all differences and instead work together to resolve the situation at hand. Instead of arguing about inane crap, opposites are forced to react - together- solve problems by working together- don't create new ones while you're trying to fix the old ones.
And it worked. We worked. Maybe a little too well for my paycheck longevity, but it worked.
Folks who greeted me with a cold shoulder said' farewell' with warm wishes - the sincerity came through in the yumminess of the home-cooked foodstuffs.
After turning in my pass-key and ID, I left a 'temp' job I've had for 56 weeks. I had a box of food and gifts from my co-workers in the backseat and a rosy hue permeated the view through my windshield.
It didn't stop me from crying all the way home.
Friday, October 29, 2004
Making the Case Against Bush
One of the most succinct reasons yet given to de-throne our Mad King comes, strangely enough, from George himself:
President Bush said, "A political candidate who jumps to conclusions without knowing the facts is not a person you want as your commander in chief."
Well said, Mr. Bush. Exactly why did we invade Iraq anyway?
President Bush said, "A political candidate who jumps to conclusions without knowing the facts is not a person you want as your commander in chief."
Well said, Mr. Bush. Exactly why did we invade Iraq anyway?
Thursday, October 28, 2004
Spoiler Warning
Q: Why is catching a cold like losing your job?
A: They both generate volumes of unsolicited advice. Some useless and mundane- ( drink lots of fluids), some more sensible- ( If I were you I'd collect unemployment for a few weeks and take a break). Hey, I'm a 38 year old human. I'm not one of H.G Wells' Martians. Like any sensible human adult, I've learned that the best way to deal with a cold is simply to outlive it.
Despite some recent rantings, I'm not really all that worried about the income situation-I'll figure something out. If I wind up sleeping on the street, it'll be because I passed out before I got home, not because I don't have one to go to.
Still, with the election, that war thing and general all-'round instability everywhere, I decided to do a bit of divination, trying, if you will, to get a 'sneak peek' at what's to come. Prophecy stuff.
It isn't pretty.
In fact, it's a bloody mess. There's chicken entrails and tea leaves all over the furniture-fragments of crystal ball mingle with pieces of Magic 8-Ball, spread across the floor like caltrops awaiting the Four Horsemen's cavalry charge. The yarrow stalks are a total loss. I tried doing that trick that Tituba showed those girls in Old Salem , but the eggs I used had been in the 'fridge too long. Way too long.
I'll clean it all up after I finish consulting my' Delphic Oracle' , which is a fancy phrase for 'bong'.
I see... wait...newspaper headines are spinning...
Co-Presidents Bush Name New Hours, Cabinet
WASHINGTON, (Dec 19 ,2044) At a press conference held at the newly-created Department of Music Television this morning , Co-Presidents Jenna and Barbara Bush announced details of their unprecedented Co-Presidency.
Speaking first, Jenna said, "It's gonna be like our new food ration system-you know, odd numbers and the other kind. On one kind of number day, I'll be in charge, on the other kind of dayBarbara will. "
"Our Daddy told us,'being President is hard work. With two of you it'll be twice as hard. That's what they call math'. He was right. Math is hard work. Pretty soon we'll have finished our goal of re-opening the reformed public school system and every 'merican can have the opportunity to know about stuff like math. We've had twice as many kids in school for twice as long, so they'll be four times as smarter!"
"We've got some reaallly cool cabinet members to tell you about", said Co-President Barbara.
The announcements included :
- Former California governor and ironically willing cybernetic 'Guinea Pig' AHT-3.44 as head-in-a jar of the Dept. of Defense. Mr. AHT-3.44's policy of 'Fortress America' has been heartily endorsed by the Bush/Bush administration.
- Wheezy, the Presidential Twin's Cocker Spaniel, will be the new head of the Drug Enforcement Agency. " He can always tell when ...(someone) is fucked up. He's a good dog", said Jenna, ducking beneath the podium to compare notes with her sister.
-The once-famous Olsen twins will take turns as Co-Secretary of Health, using the same "different kind of days" plan the Twins -in-Chief use.
"It's like , a twin thing, you know? Cool, huh?", said a generic spokesbot in a pre-recorded lip-synched interview.
- The exhumed remains of the elder Barbara Bush have been appointed to the position of Secretary of State. When asked for an explanation, Jenna replied," ...we dipped her in some green glowing stuff and she just sorta went all Hulk on us - we plan on dropping her on Latveria to discuss the Von Doom Protocols. (winks)."
...more spin to follow...
A: They both generate volumes of unsolicited advice. Some useless and mundane- ( drink lots of fluids), some more sensible- ( If I were you I'd collect unemployment for a few weeks and take a break). Hey, I'm a 38 year old human. I'm not one of H.G Wells' Martians. Like any sensible human adult, I've learned that the best way to deal with a cold is simply to outlive it.
Despite some recent rantings, I'm not really all that worried about the income situation-I'll figure something out. If I wind up sleeping on the street, it'll be because I passed out before I got home, not because I don't have one to go to.
Still, with the election, that war thing and general all-'round instability everywhere, I decided to do a bit of divination, trying, if you will, to get a 'sneak peek' at what's to come. Prophecy stuff.
It isn't pretty.
In fact, it's a bloody mess. There's chicken entrails and tea leaves all over the furniture-fragments of crystal ball mingle with pieces of Magic 8-Ball, spread across the floor like caltrops awaiting the Four Horsemen's cavalry charge. The yarrow stalks are a total loss. I tried doing that trick that Tituba showed those girls in Old Salem , but the eggs I used had been in the 'fridge too long. Way too long.
I'll clean it all up after I finish consulting my' Delphic Oracle' , which is a fancy phrase for 'bong'.
I see... wait...newspaper headines are spinning...
Co-Presidents Bush Name New Hours, Cabinet
WASHINGTON, (Dec 19 ,2044) At a press conference held at the newly-created Department of Music Television this morning , Co-Presidents Jenna and Barbara Bush announced details of their unprecedented Co-Presidency.
Speaking first, Jenna said, "It's gonna be like our new food ration system-you know, odd numbers and the other kind. On one kind of number day, I'll be in charge, on the other kind of dayBarbara will. "
"Our Daddy told us,'being President is hard work. With two of you it'll be twice as hard. That's what they call math'. He was right. Math is hard work. Pretty soon we'll have finished our goal of re-opening the reformed public school system and every 'merican can have the opportunity to know about stuff like math. We've had twice as many kids in school for twice as long, so they'll be four times as smarter!"
"We've got some reaallly cool cabinet members to tell you about", said Co-President Barbara.
The announcements included :
- Former California governor and ironically willing cybernetic 'Guinea Pig' AHT-3.44 as head-in-a jar of the Dept. of Defense. Mr. AHT-3.44's policy of 'Fortress America' has been heartily endorsed by the Bush/Bush administration.
- Wheezy, the Presidential Twin's Cocker Spaniel, will be the new head of the Drug Enforcement Agency. " He can always tell when ...(someone) is fucked up. He's a good dog", said Jenna, ducking beneath the podium to compare notes with her sister.
-The once-famous Olsen twins will take turns as Co-Secretary of Health, using the same "different kind of days" plan the Twins -in-Chief use.
"It's like , a twin thing, you know? Cool, huh?", said a generic spokesbot in a pre-recorded lip-synched interview.
- The exhumed remains of the elder Barbara Bush have been appointed to the position of Secretary of State. When asked for an explanation, Jenna replied," ...we dipped her in some green glowing stuff and she just sorta went all Hulk on us - we plan on dropping her on Latveria to discuss the Von Doom Protocols. (winks)."
...more spin to follow...
Monday, October 25, 2004
When Relatives Attack
My twin came to visit this weekend-it was good to see him,especially since I didn't take a vacation this year. Wish he coulda stayed longer...
So I didn't pay much attention to the news. Until I got to work.
Have you heard about Jeff?
I barely know who he is. What about him?
His brother went nuts and killed their parents. With a shotgun.
Oh.
That double-plus sucks. What went wrong? Who can ever know?
Today was somber day at the office.
Jeff didn't come to work.
To cheer myself , I catch up on other news:
- Things don't seem to be going well in Iraq. Last week, American soldiers refused to haul contaminated (useless) fuel through a danger zone without adequate protection. 49 newly trained and freshly killed Iraqi soldiers showed us what can happen when you travel without protection.
Well, the news says they were soldiers, but they didn't have any guns or uniforms.
-380 tons of explosives is a lot of explosives. It's a good thing we got them out of Saddam's hands. God only knows who has them now, but it sure as shit ain't Saddam. Stay the course!
-I was actually rooting for the Jets this weekend. Really. I was. I'm about sick of the Patriots.
-Gas prices will never go down. Ever.
The phone rings- a welcome distraction. It's the Boss.
In five days I'll be unemployed. Well, poop.
That takes my mind off the war in Iraq for awhile.
Instead, I start thinking about domestic issues. Like jobs and falling wages and the fact that I spent my last two paychecks on auto repairs and rentals. With a little luck, I can be broke by Christmas and homeless by Valentine's Day. I'll be the guy behind the dumpster, clutching a brown-bag of Mad Dog 20/20 and mumbling some woman's name over and over. Spare change?
So I didn't pay much attention to the news. Until I got to work.
Have you heard about Jeff?
I barely know who he is. What about him?
His brother went nuts and killed their parents. With a shotgun.
Oh.
That double-plus sucks. What went wrong? Who can ever know?
Today was somber day at the office.
Jeff didn't come to work.
To cheer myself , I catch up on other news:
- Things don't seem to be going well in Iraq. Last week, American soldiers refused to haul contaminated (useless) fuel through a danger zone without adequate protection. 49 newly trained and freshly killed Iraqi soldiers showed us what can happen when you travel without protection.
Well, the news says they were soldiers, but they didn't have any guns or uniforms.
-380 tons of explosives is a lot of explosives. It's a good thing we got them out of Saddam's hands. God only knows who has them now, but it sure as shit ain't Saddam. Stay the course!
-I was actually rooting for the Jets this weekend. Really. I was. I'm about sick of the Patriots.
-Gas prices will never go down. Ever.
The phone rings- a welcome distraction. It's the Boss.
In five days I'll be unemployed. Well, poop.
That takes my mind off the war in Iraq for awhile.
Instead, I start thinking about domestic issues. Like jobs and falling wages and the fact that I spent my last two paychecks on auto repairs and rentals. With a little luck, I can be broke by Christmas and homeless by Valentine's Day. I'll be the guy behind the dumpster, clutching a brown-bag of Mad Dog 20/20 and mumbling some woman's name over and over. Spare change?
Friday, October 22, 2004
Got to Admit...Nothing,Ever (W/Update and links!)
The Dow Jones, as of this writing, is at a 52-week low. The national debt has never been higher. The government has grown so large it’s started spilling over into other countries. We might as well start printing travel visas on our currency, ‘cause it’s going overseas for an extended vacation; if it ever comes back is anyone’s guess. America has zero, no, make that less than zero international credibility since each and every one of our ever-changing reasons to invade and occupy Iraq has been debunked. Iraq is a bloody mess, getting bloodier and messier every day. It’s new puppet/dictator is a former assassin for both Saddam Hussein AND the C.I.A.
Jobs are not being created fast enough to accommodate the number of people newly entering the workforce, and a lot of the new jobs , flatly, suck. Former managerial-types (like me) languish in office-temp positions, losing all benefits. I recently saw one of my former staffers; who is older than myself and has a degree; wearing a safety vest and rounding up shopping carts at the local market. A younger, but also educated ex co-worker served me coffee at a Barstucks.
-Is this the “strong” economy Bush stumps about?
-Is this “freedom on the march”? Is this “spreading liberty”?
I didn’t know ‘liberty’ was another word for 'depleted uranium shell casings'.
-Are these the “Jobs of the 21st Century” that Dubya was crowing about?
There is a positive side:education. We can save a lot of money on education and still prepare workers for the “jobs of the 21st Century”- how much time or money can it take to teach someone how to operate a cash-register or a deep-fryer?
Give Bush a report, the latest in a series, that concludes Iraq had no WMD and was hardly in a position to produce any. It does say Saddam would liked to have had some. Duh.
Shrubby waves this report around and says,” See! I toldya we hadda spread liberty on Iraq! Saddam had Very Bad Thoughts!” (Cheers, applause)
Another report shows job growth to be quite a bit less than predicted and the Resident seizes it, screaming,” We’re creating jobs! The economy has never been better! Tax Cuts!” (Cheers, applause )
Oh. I forgot. In Afghanistan, a 19-year old girl just cast her first vote.
I wonder if her name was Jessica Lynch?
Meanwhile, Kerry, who you may have heard , served in the ‘Nam, is attacked for being weak on security. He’s never done anything during his 20 years in Congress.
Please. Give me a break and do yourself a favor:
Google : BCCI Kerry Report
Google: Iran-Contra Kerry Report
Find the Congressional Records.
Oh, nevermind. Here's a great column that sums it up.
Here's the long version.
Some other things to consider:
-Why isn't the Kerry campaign bringing this up?
A campaign statement such as ,"Let me remind you- there is a precedent for this president- the Reagan administration was full of crooks and if it wasn't for this president's father, they'd all have gone to prison. As Senator, I made the case against this gang of thieves and murderers, but I did not have the power to over-ride a Presidential pardon. As president, I promise you that the current crop of recycled war-profiteers, Revelationist nut-jobs and blatant liars will not be pardoned."
While refreshing in it's honesty, such a statement would be political suicide.
Impugn the sacred memory of the late ex-President Reagan ? Heresy!
Iran-Contra Bush Pardons
That’s why the Repugs hate Kerry.
That’s why the GOP is scared shitless of losing this election.
Who’s gonna pardon the crooks this time?
Correction: The Dow did not hit a 52-week low today as I wrote above-merely the 2004 low. My bad.
Jobs are not being created fast enough to accommodate the number of people newly entering the workforce, and a lot of the new jobs , flatly, suck. Former managerial-types (like me) languish in office-temp positions, losing all benefits. I recently saw one of my former staffers; who is older than myself and has a degree; wearing a safety vest and rounding up shopping carts at the local market. A younger, but also educated ex co-worker served me coffee at a Barstucks.
-Is this the “strong” economy Bush stumps about?
-Is this “freedom on the march”? Is this “spreading liberty”?
I didn’t know ‘liberty’ was another word for 'depleted uranium shell casings'.
-Are these the “Jobs of the 21st Century” that Dubya was crowing about?
There is a positive side:education. We can save a lot of money on education and still prepare workers for the “jobs of the 21st Century”- how much time or money can it take to teach someone how to operate a cash-register or a deep-fryer?
Give Bush a report, the latest in a series, that concludes Iraq had no WMD and was hardly in a position to produce any. It does say Saddam would liked to have had some. Duh.
Shrubby waves this report around and says,” See! I toldya we hadda spread liberty on Iraq! Saddam had Very Bad Thoughts!” (Cheers, applause)
Another report shows job growth to be quite a bit less than predicted and the Resident seizes it, screaming,” We’re creating jobs! The economy has never been better! Tax Cuts!” (Cheers, applause )
Oh. I forgot. In Afghanistan, a 19-year old girl just cast her first vote.
I wonder if her name was Jessica Lynch?
Meanwhile, Kerry, who you may have heard , served in the ‘Nam, is attacked for being weak on security. He’s never done anything during his 20 years in Congress.
Please. Give me a break and do yourself a favor:
Google : BCCI Kerry Report
Google: Iran-Contra Kerry Report
Find the Congressional Records.
Oh, nevermind. Here's a great column that sums it up.
Here's the long version.
Some other things to consider:
-Why isn't the Kerry campaign bringing this up?
A campaign statement such as ,"Let me remind you- there is a precedent for this president- the Reagan administration was full of crooks and if it wasn't for this president's father, they'd all have gone to prison. As Senator, I made the case against this gang of thieves and murderers, but I did not have the power to over-ride a Presidential pardon. As president, I promise you that the current crop of recycled war-profiteers, Revelationist nut-jobs and blatant liars will not be pardoned."
While refreshing in it's honesty, such a statement would be political suicide.
Impugn the sacred memory of the late ex-President Reagan ? Heresy!
Iran-Contra Bush Pardons
That’s why the Repugs hate Kerry.
That’s why the GOP is scared shitless of losing this election.
Who’s gonna pardon the crooks this time?
Correction: The Dow did not hit a 52-week low today as I wrote above-merely the 2004 low. My bad.
Wednesday, October 20, 2004
Boo Hoo, No Grey Goo
Never, under any circumstances , tell yourself ,”at least it can’t get any worse”.
Because it will.
Today, my last remaining dream has been shattered.
Some really smart guy named Eric Drexler wrote a book in the Eighties about the then nascent nano-technology revolution, in which he put forth what’s known as the “Grey Goo Theory”.
He speculated that self-replicating “assembler” nano-bots could run amok, converting organic matter (plants, animals, ex-lovers etc.) into more nano-bots, eventually devouring everything, leaving the Earth covered with a “Grey Goo” comprised entirely of nano-bots.
This is the sort of secular, scientific Anti-Rapture that’s much more fun to fantasize about than nuclear war or global plague. I even prefer it to Space Alien Annihilation.
I used to find solace in thinking that, one day soon, I’d be turned to slime. It’s why I never pay my bills on time. What’s the point on staying current, if we’re gonna be assimilated into molecular-level slime machines ?
Well, this August, Mr. Drexler dismissed his own theory. Now he says that the chances of nano-bots eating the world are roughly about the same as a drill-press or sewing machine directly causing global destruction-I mean ,it could still happen, but the odds are decidedly longer.
How come no one told me sooner? I just found out today. Thanks to the scientific community for letting me maintain my delusional hopes for the last couple months. You egghead slide-rule bastards owe me a new apocalypse theory.
Avian Flu? Booorrinng and survivable.
Asteroid impact? Sorry guys, but you’ve cried ‘wolf’ too many times.
Global Warming? I can’t wait that long, and it may be survivable anyway.
Nuclear Armageddon? With the end of the Cold War, the odds of a globe-killing nuke-war went way, way down. Bummer.
Damn it! If I pick up the paper and read a headline such as “ Scientists Announce Cure For Everything-Immortality For Everyone” , I will tie myself to the train tracks .
Because it will.
Today, my last remaining dream has been shattered.
Some really smart guy named Eric Drexler wrote a book in the Eighties about the then nascent nano-technology revolution, in which he put forth what’s known as the “Grey Goo Theory”.
He speculated that self-replicating “assembler” nano-bots could run amok, converting organic matter (plants, animals, ex-lovers etc.) into more nano-bots, eventually devouring everything, leaving the Earth covered with a “Grey Goo” comprised entirely of nano-bots.
This is the sort of secular, scientific Anti-Rapture that’s much more fun to fantasize about than nuclear war or global plague. I even prefer it to Space Alien Annihilation.
I used to find solace in thinking that, one day soon, I’d be turned to slime. It’s why I never pay my bills on time. What’s the point on staying current, if we’re gonna be assimilated into molecular-level slime machines ?
Well, this August, Mr. Drexler dismissed his own theory. Now he says that the chances of nano-bots eating the world are roughly about the same as a drill-press or sewing machine directly causing global destruction-I mean ,it could still happen, but the odds are decidedly longer.
How come no one told me sooner? I just found out today. Thanks to the scientific community for letting me maintain my delusional hopes for the last couple months. You egghead slide-rule bastards owe me a new apocalypse theory.
Avian Flu? Booorrinng and survivable.
Asteroid impact? Sorry guys, but you’ve cried ‘wolf’ too many times.
Global Warming? I can’t wait that long, and it may be survivable anyway.
Nuclear Armageddon? With the end of the Cold War, the odds of a globe-killing nuke-war went way, way down. Bummer.
Damn it! If I pick up the paper and read a headline such as “ Scientists Announce Cure For Everything-Immortality For Everyone” , I will tie myself to the train tracks .
Monday, October 18, 2004
Damn! Damn! Damn!
If I'm with someone who really turns me on; a must be with, must be one with, now and forever kind of person, my IQ drops at least 70 points.( Actually, it can't drop lower than 68 without going into negatives , but I digress).
I will believe almost anything she tells me. I'll spill my guts faster than a Mad Cow in a hot dog factory. I'll drive to county lock-up at 3:00 A.M. to post bail for her DUI ass. I assume the relationship means something, so I close my eyes to obvious signs until it's too late.
She's divorced.
Er, seperated.
Estranged-yeah , that's it!
Suddenly she's still married.
Hubby?
Getting out of detox.
Coming home.
Better for the kid.
Bye now.
This is the second time I've been through this shit. Last time, I was keeping the bed warm for a guy in jail for beating his wife. She also wasn't as divorced as I was told. Same shit.
Years ago, I was introduced to a new lover's (surprise visit) dad. Introduced as an old class-mate from some High School I'd never attended, who had just dropped by to visit. Her dad looked at me. He knew what was going on, but played cool. He was probably glad she found someone who could spend ten minutes with his daughter without giving her a black eye.
So, a couple weeks ago, I'm at a house that where someone I thought was my girlfriend lives. Briinng! Her Ma and Pa drop by.
Suddenly, I'm the guy from work who came by to pick up some paperwork. A clutter of Company papers that have nothing to do with my job are forced on me.
Escorted out.
Bye now.
Today, on the way home from work, I hit a pot-hole and my left rear tire re-aligns itself. Vertical to Horizontal. This brightens my day. I stop dwelling on what a hopeless, pitiful chump I am and think instead about more important shit.
Like: Fuck! This looks really expensive.
And: This car is really hard to push with only three wheels.
I get the machine into a 7-11 parking lot. It's not drivable. The 7-11 Ladies grudgingly let me use the yellow pages-I spend several dollars on 50-cent phone calls without finding a tow. (This is Richmond-you need to reserve a bloody taxi here- a tow? Yeah , just leave the key in your car and we'll pick it up. Uh huh.).
I go inside to buy another piece of Bazooka Joe (I need the change) , write down some more phone numbers and return to the pay phone.
It gets worse.
While I was inside, someone smeared a packet of mayonaise on the pay-phone reciever earpiece.
I learned this the hard way.
I'm starting to take all this crap personally.
Inside a week:
1) Dumped
2) Animal sacrifices itself in attempt to destroy my car and/ or kill me
3)Pothole succeeds where roadkill failed
4) Mayo in ear
I hope new boss lets me use a company car. Mine is down for over a week, and I gotta get to work somehow.
Sorry to be such a whiner.
I will believe almost anything she tells me. I'll spill my guts faster than a Mad Cow in a hot dog factory. I'll drive to county lock-up at 3:00 A.M. to post bail for her DUI ass. I assume the relationship means something, so I close my eyes to obvious signs until it's too late.
She's divorced.
Er, seperated.
Estranged-yeah , that's it!
Suddenly she's still married.
Hubby?
Getting out of detox.
Coming home.
Better for the kid.
Bye now.
This is the second time I've been through this shit. Last time, I was keeping the bed warm for a guy in jail for beating his wife. She also wasn't as divorced as I was told. Same shit.
Years ago, I was introduced to a new lover's (surprise visit) dad. Introduced as an old class-mate from some High School I'd never attended, who had just dropped by to visit. Her dad looked at me. He knew what was going on, but played cool. He was probably glad she found someone who could spend ten minutes with his daughter without giving her a black eye.
So, a couple weeks ago, I'm at a house that where someone I thought was my girlfriend lives. Briinng! Her Ma and Pa drop by.
Suddenly, I'm the guy from work who came by to pick up some paperwork. A clutter of Company papers that have nothing to do with my job are forced on me.
Escorted out.
Bye now.
Today, on the way home from work, I hit a pot-hole and my left rear tire re-aligns itself. Vertical to Horizontal. This brightens my day. I stop dwelling on what a hopeless, pitiful chump I am and think instead about more important shit.
Like: Fuck! This looks really expensive.
And: This car is really hard to push with only three wheels.
I get the machine into a 7-11 parking lot. It's not drivable. The 7-11 Ladies grudgingly let me use the yellow pages-I spend several dollars on 50-cent phone calls without finding a tow. (This is Richmond-you need to reserve a bloody taxi here- a tow? Yeah , just leave the key in your car and we'll pick it up. Uh huh.).
I go inside to buy another piece of Bazooka Joe (I need the change) , write down some more phone numbers and return to the pay phone.
It gets worse.
While I was inside, someone smeared a packet of mayonaise on the pay-phone reciever earpiece.
I learned this the hard way.
I'm starting to take all this crap personally.
Inside a week:
1) Dumped
2) Animal sacrifices itself in attempt to destroy my car and/ or kill me
3)Pothole succeeds where roadkill failed
4) Mayo in ear
I hope new boss lets me use a company car. Mine is down for over a week, and I gotta get to work somehow.
Sorry to be such a whiner.
Saturday, October 16, 2004
Xanax,Bosox, Nosex and Detox
Gobble gobble gobble.
Gobble those little pills.
By the handfull, if needed.
My doctor approves.
Several months ago I had a check-up. My blood pressure was sky-high.
Great.
My white blood cells were screaming "malignancy"!
Oh joy.
I'm glad to report that last week's exam found me to be in fine health. Seems a lingering ear infection shot my blood test to hell and stress and drinking too much sent my BP up.
How did I get all healthy?
Xanax and fucking.
If you know you are going to get laid, you feel better. You relax and bask in the afterglow. Smile at work. Good stuff.
If you know you aren't, Xanax is your best friend. It's the anti-Viagra for the Great Unlaid.
Case in point: I'm dumped. And waiting for the pills to work.
Cast away.
I can't compete with the wife-beating, coke-dealing child-abuser who just got out of jail and went into rehab. He's changed, I'm told. My heart cries Bullshit! but I say OK. It's better for the kids...I am not convinced or sincere, just resigned to failure. Yippee.
We can't see each other any more. HE is trying to change, and SHE believes his crap.
I don't. But I don't count. I never have.
I'm no saint, but I have never, and never will, hit a woman. I've never (as an adult) struck a child. It's been years( 10+) since I've dealt with coke. This doesn't make me a paragon of virtue, it just makes me better than I used to be. It makes me better thanHE ever will be. I'm not proud of my past, but I'm not running from it either-it's just the past. Let's move on and all that... Turns out ,for the third time, I can't compete with three-time losers.
So instead of making love to someone I was becoming quite fond of, I'm watching the Yankees kill the BoSox. Waiting for the little pills to kick in. Drinking shitty beer alone and watching baseball. Shit fucking 13-6 Yankee lead baseball.
And blogging.
Summation:Pathetic.
Gobble those little pills.
By the handfull, if needed.
My doctor approves.
Several months ago I had a check-up. My blood pressure was sky-high.
Great.
My white blood cells were screaming "malignancy"!
Oh joy.
I'm glad to report that last week's exam found me to be in fine health. Seems a lingering ear infection shot my blood test to hell and stress and drinking too much sent my BP up.
How did I get all healthy?
Xanax and fucking.
If you know you are going to get laid, you feel better. You relax and bask in the afterglow. Smile at work. Good stuff.
If you know you aren't, Xanax is your best friend. It's the anti-Viagra for the Great Unlaid.
Case in point: I'm dumped. And waiting for the pills to work.
Cast away.
I can't compete with the wife-beating, coke-dealing child-abuser who just got out of jail and went into rehab. He's changed, I'm told. My heart cries Bullshit! but I say OK. It's better for the kids...I am not convinced or sincere, just resigned to failure. Yippee.
We can't see each other any more. HE is trying to change, and SHE believes his crap.
I don't. But I don't count. I never have.
I'm no saint, but I have never, and never will, hit a woman. I've never (as an adult) struck a child. It's been years( 10+) since I've dealt with coke. This doesn't make me a paragon of virtue, it just makes me better than I used to be. It makes me better thanHE ever will be. I'm not proud of my past, but I'm not running from it either-it's just the past. Let's move on and all that... Turns out ,for the third time, I can't compete with three-time losers.
So instead of making love to someone I was becoming quite fond of, I'm watching the Yankees kill the BoSox. Waiting for the little pills to kick in. Drinking shitty beer alone and watching baseball. Shit fucking 13-6 Yankee lead baseball.
And blogging.
Summation:Pathetic.
Friday, October 15, 2004
My New Tattoo
My new tattoo is a vampire tattoo. It’s not a picture of a bat, or inverted crosses or any such nonsense-it’s a vampire tat in the sense that it cannot be seen in mirrors, it doesn’t photograph and it sucks the life out of me.
It’s on my forehead. I’m the only one who can’t see it.
It says “CHUMP”.
I want to hold your hand
the one without the knife
but with those hands
- held behind
the burial shroud of
disinterred ghosts
I make the wrong choice every time
Words framed by Mobius Lips
spoken with a sporked tongue
familar plastic grips
-left behind
I'm the new trash that
lets itself out when
it's time for the old trash to arrive
--
Spoken like a true chump.
It’s on my forehead. I’m the only one who can’t see it.
It says “CHUMP”.
I want to hold your hand
the one without the knife
but with those hands
- held behind
the burial shroud of
disinterred ghosts
I make the wrong choice every time
Words framed by Mobius Lips
spoken with a sporked tongue
familar plastic grips
-left behind
I'm the new trash that
lets itself out when
it's time for the old trash to arrive
--
Spoken like a true chump.
Thursday, October 14, 2004
Safer Now
This morning I get a call from the Temp Agency. Please report to their office before I go to work. They need to 'update' my file. I worry that it's a drug test, or that my current assignment is over.
It's neither. They need to update my I-9 form. Today. Now.This means they lost it and either were just audited or are waiting to be audited by INS/IRS/ETC. (It's that form that asks for proof of eligibilty to work in the USA-if you've ever had a legit job, you've filled one out). Anyway, I don't have a Social Security card- I've got an old Statement of Benefits (S.O.B) with my SSN on it-they don't print it on the new versions-so I bring that as my second ID. I spent some time as a recruiter for Census 2000, and we were told to accept that document in lieu of a SS card.
So I hand this to Desk Girl.
Sorry, we can't accept this, it doesn't have your full SSN on it it.
Me, pointing to my SSN on the form: This is from 2000. That's before they stopped printing it on them.
No, I'm sorry, we need an official document with your complete SSN on it.
That's what I just handed you!
She doesn't even look at it, just returns it and says I need to return with the proper SSN proof.
I've been working the same temp assignment for 54 weeks, and now, today, I need to prove I'm eligible to work in the USA?
Yes.
So I trek to the SS office. Wait. Wait. Wait.
Get called to counter. Reach for driver's license and realize I've left it with the intractable Desk Girl. Crap.
Social Security Lady notices I'm wearing an employee ID around my neck and says they can accept that, as long as it has my picture and SSN on it.
Well, OK.
Recap: A picture ID that could be made at home in under five minutes is enough to get a SS card with whatever number you choose to put on it. Using the fake SSN card one could , with a little effort, procure a Driver's permit, a Passport or a credit card.
I feel much safer now.
It's neither. They need to update my I-9 form. Today. Now.This means they lost it and either were just audited or are waiting to be audited by INS/IRS/ETC. (It's that form that asks for proof of eligibilty to work in the USA-if you've ever had a legit job, you've filled one out). Anyway, I don't have a Social Security card- I've got an old Statement of Benefits (S.O.B) with my SSN on it-they don't print it on the new versions-so I bring that as my second ID. I spent some time as a recruiter for Census 2000, and we were told to accept that document in lieu of a SS card.
So I hand this to Desk Girl.
Sorry, we can't accept this, it doesn't have your full SSN on it it.
Me, pointing to my SSN on the form: This is from 2000. That's before they stopped printing it on them.
No, I'm sorry, we need an official document with your complete SSN on it.
That's what I just handed you!
She doesn't even look at it, just returns it and says I need to return with the proper SSN proof.
I've been working the same temp assignment for 54 weeks, and now, today, I need to prove I'm eligible to work in the USA?
Yes.
So I trek to the SS office. Wait. Wait. Wait.
Get called to counter. Reach for driver's license and realize I've left it with the intractable Desk Girl. Crap.
Social Security Lady notices I'm wearing an employee ID around my neck and says they can accept that, as long as it has my picture and SSN on it.
Well, OK.
Recap: A picture ID that could be made at home in under five minutes is enough to get a SS card with whatever number you choose to put on it. Using the fake SSN card one could , with a little effort, procure a Driver's permit, a Passport or a credit card.
I feel much safer now.
Beware
By 2024, the annual Running of the Bulls in Pamplona will be replaced by the daily Run For Your Life From Giant Snakeheads. 
These disgusting creatures are, like the lungfish, our distant ancestors. If voracious monstrosities like this hadn't had the tenacity to walk across dry land in search of a new puddle , we'd all be speaking Dolphin now.
That wouldn't have been so bad. Goddamn Snakehead Mudskipper Bastards.
They just found one in Lake Michigan.
These repulsive throwbacks can eat anything and can be killed by almost nothing. In Asia, their flesh is considered a delicacy, not least because of the sheer amount of skill and effort required just to kill the damned thing. Chefs report being savagely bitten while in the process of fileting a fish thought to have been dead for hours.
Thanks to selective breeding and Piscine Growth Hormone, commercial fish nurseries in Thailand can now grow these abominations to a length of 10-13 feet, weighing nearly 1000 pounds. They feed them live goats.
These unkillable and unlikable eating machines will inherit the Earth, and they ain't exactly meek.
These disgusting creatures are, like the lungfish, our distant ancestors. If voracious monstrosities like this hadn't had the tenacity to walk across dry land in search of a new puddle , we'd all be speaking Dolphin now.
That wouldn't have been so bad. Goddamn Snakehead Mudskipper Bastards.
They just found one in Lake Michigan.
These repulsive throwbacks can eat anything and can be killed by almost nothing. In Asia, their flesh is considered a delicacy, not least because of the sheer amount of skill and effort required just to kill the damned thing. Chefs report being savagely bitten while in the process of fileting a fish thought to have been dead for hours.
Thanks to selective breeding and Piscine Growth Hormone, commercial fish nurseries in Thailand can now grow these abominations to a length of 10-13 feet, weighing nearly 1000 pounds. They feed them live goats.
These unkillable and unlikable eating machines will inherit the Earth, and they ain't exactly meek.
Tuesday, October 12, 2004
When Roadkill Attacks
I went to see Granny this weekend. The trees in Appalachia are changing colors, very vivid this year,and it's early yet. Nice visit, nice drive.
Until I drive home. I'm driving down a dark country road, cranking old X(the band, not the rating) tapes when a groundhog decides he has to cross the road now. Wham! I hear some disturbing sounds from under my car-dragging, scraping sounds. I pull over at the first gas station I see. I figure I'll have to manually extract the pulverized remains of a suicidal mammal from the chassis. Oh, what fun. I'm half right.
The goddamn beast tore the front of my spoiler right off the frame, was scooped up by the now dragging spoiler,which was then bent into a backward "c" shape, smearing great greasy gobs of gooey grimy groundhogs guts everywhere. There's no recourse but to crawl under there and rig the spoiler with duct tape long enough to get home.
I enter the gas station/store.
Where's your bathroom?
The clerk gives me a strange look and shuts the door to her bullet-proof Plexiglas cube.
We don't have one.
I look at myself in the vid-cam monitor. My upper body, face and arms are streaked with grease, groundhog viscera and clumps of bloody brown fur. I don't even attempt to explain, I just go back outside and do the best I can with the bucket for the windshield squeegee.
When I get home, I take a very long shower.
I tell a co-worker about this. She says she crossed the Chesapeake Bay Bridge and was startled by how many dead ospreys she saw.
Today I saw a dead fawn on the median strip of a busy suburban boulevard. Juxtapose dead Bambi with a strip-mall and a condo sub-div.
It's getting weird.
Until I drive home. I'm driving down a dark country road, cranking old X(the band, not the rating) tapes when a groundhog decides he has to cross the road now. Wham! I hear some disturbing sounds from under my car-dragging, scraping sounds. I pull over at the first gas station I see. I figure I'll have to manually extract the pulverized remains of a suicidal mammal from the chassis. Oh, what fun. I'm half right.
The goddamn beast tore the front of my spoiler right off the frame, was scooped up by the now dragging spoiler,which was then bent into a backward "c" shape, smearing great greasy gobs of gooey grimy groundhogs guts everywhere. There's no recourse but to crawl under there and rig the spoiler with duct tape long enough to get home.
I enter the gas station/store.
Where's your bathroom?
The clerk gives me a strange look and shuts the door to her bullet-proof Plexiglas cube.
We don't have one.
I look at myself in the vid-cam monitor. My upper body, face and arms are streaked with grease, groundhog viscera and clumps of bloody brown fur. I don't even attempt to explain, I just go back outside and do the best I can with the bucket for the windshield squeegee.
When I get home, I take a very long shower.
I tell a co-worker about this. She says she crossed the Chesapeake Bay Bridge and was startled by how many dead ospreys she saw.
Today I saw a dead fawn on the median strip of a busy suburban boulevard. Juxtapose dead Bambi with a strip-mall and a condo sub-div.
It's getting weird.
Thursday, October 07, 2004
Cell Phones, Dead Animals, Jessica Simpson and Other Omens
My daily commute averages about forty minutes round-trip; hardly long enough for experiencing a series of powerful and prophetic visions, complete with a 'spirit-guide' to explain what was being revealed, and why. Besides, I stopped taking peyote when I drive.
But today, a series of seemingly unrelated events gave me some serious clues as to how it's going to end, and why.
On the way in,some Samaritan in a pick-up truck stops dead in front of me with no warning. I squeal to a halt inches from his bumper-the car behind me does the same -no collisions! I'm glad I got my brakes fixed after the last time I rear-ended a truck.
So why'd he stop? Because Madame SUV was stopped on a side street, waiting for a break in traffic so she could enter the main artery of traffic. (During rush hour that's a 5-15 minute wait).
Gentleman Trucker was chivalrous enough to risk a twenty-car pile-up so this Peg Bundy wannabe can get to the liquor store five minutes before they open-maybe she'll be earlier to her bridge game . I hate Gentleman Trucker. I bet he's thinking he'll curry favor with middle-aged suburban hussies everywhere. I hate Madame SUV. I bet she's wearing capris and pumps.
Meanwhile horns are honking. Madame SUV doesn't notice. She flicks ashes out the window.
Honk! Honk! Honk!
Flick. Flick. Flick.
Finally, G.T. gives up and proceeds. I follow, and suddenly SUV pulls out. My second sreeching halt inside sixty seconds. She's holding a goddamn cell phone. She looks daggers at me, like it's my fault she's an oblivious bitch. She says something into the cell, probably along the lines of "some asshole almost hit me". Ciggie in one hand, phone in the other. Fucking brilliant driving.
I get to work. What's that smell? Pleasant Office Lady smells like a skunk today. She ran over a skunk on the way to work-it just walked into the road, looked at her car and stopped. Splat! She's going home to change and bathe, the car's going to the cleaners. The poor girl got out of the car to see if the skunk was ok (it wasn't) and the musk cloud permeated everything. EEww!
On the way home I count four (4) freshly killed raccoons by the roadside. That's four more than I've seen since I changed offices. What gives? My earlier dismissal of animals being able to sense disaster may bear reconsideration. Did the 'coons and the skunk just lose the will to live and give up, doing the roadkill Hari-Kari? Is what's coming down that bad?
I stop at the 7-11 to pick up a six-pack. There's a giant poster in the window advertising a Jessica Simpson X-mas CD. I decide to get a twelve-pack instead.
It's early October and 7-11 is selling X-mas dreck. I am filled with a cold certainty that over the holidays I'll be exposed to one or more songs from this CD. It's not even Halloween yet, and already I'm forced to dread X-mas.
I have a hate/desperation relationship with the holidays, so the thought that X-mas music could become even worse than it already is frightens me. Perhaps I should pour Drano in my ears so I don't have to hear it. I'm fairly certain this act would be fatal if done with determination and a good funnel.
The animals don't have to wait for the holidays to have a reason to off themselves. I can imagine the raccoon's wake:
Relative: So sorry about Bandit .
Bereft Racoon: Thank you *sniffle* . It's for the best. He wouldn't want to live in this world that once that thing we've been sensing occurs.
Relative: I know. I wish humans weren't so goddamn stupid.
The details are murky, but I'm pretty sure mass human extinction will be brought on by stupidity. We will somehow find a way to dumb ourselves down so much that our reptilian brain-stem will be unable to maintain basic autonomic functions-like breathing and heartbeat.We'll dumb ourselves into oblivion.
But that won't be good enough for our brutally narcissistic species. We will find a way to fuck up the world for the so called "lower animals". The animals can feel it coming.
If it starts raining dead birds, I wouldn't be a bit suprised.
But today, a series of seemingly unrelated events gave me some serious clues as to how it's going to end, and why.
On the way in,some Samaritan in a pick-up truck stops dead in front of me with no warning. I squeal to a halt inches from his bumper-the car behind me does the same -no collisions! I'm glad I got my brakes fixed after the last time I rear-ended a truck.
So why'd he stop? Because Madame SUV was stopped on a side street, waiting for a break in traffic so she could enter the main artery of traffic. (During rush hour that's a 5-15 minute wait).
Gentleman Trucker was chivalrous enough to risk a twenty-car pile-up so this Peg Bundy wannabe can get to the liquor store five minutes before they open-maybe she'll be earlier to her bridge game . I hate Gentleman Trucker. I bet he's thinking he'll curry favor with middle-aged suburban hussies everywhere. I hate Madame SUV. I bet she's wearing capris and pumps.
Meanwhile horns are honking. Madame SUV doesn't notice. She flicks ashes out the window.
Honk! Honk! Honk!
Flick. Flick. Flick.
Finally, G.T. gives up and proceeds. I follow, and suddenly SUV pulls out. My second sreeching halt inside sixty seconds. She's holding a goddamn cell phone. She looks daggers at me, like it's my fault she's an oblivious bitch. She says something into the cell, probably along the lines of "some asshole almost hit me". Ciggie in one hand, phone in the other. Fucking brilliant driving.
I get to work. What's that smell? Pleasant Office Lady smells like a skunk today. She ran over a skunk on the way to work-it just walked into the road, looked at her car and stopped. Splat! She's going home to change and bathe, the car's going to the cleaners. The poor girl got out of the car to see if the skunk was ok (it wasn't) and the musk cloud permeated everything. EEww!
On the way home I count four (4) freshly killed raccoons by the roadside. That's four more than I've seen since I changed offices. What gives? My earlier dismissal of animals being able to sense disaster may bear reconsideration. Did the 'coons and the skunk just lose the will to live and give up, doing the roadkill Hari-Kari? Is what's coming down that bad?
I stop at the 7-11 to pick up a six-pack. There's a giant poster in the window advertising a Jessica Simpson X-mas CD. I decide to get a twelve-pack instead.
It's early October and 7-11 is selling X-mas dreck. I am filled with a cold certainty that over the holidays I'll be exposed to one or more songs from this CD. It's not even Halloween yet, and already I'm forced to dread X-mas.
I have a hate/desperation relationship with the holidays, so the thought that X-mas music could become even worse than it already is frightens me. Perhaps I should pour Drano in my ears so I don't have to hear it. I'm fairly certain this act would be fatal if done with determination and a good funnel.
The animals don't have to wait for the holidays to have a reason to off themselves. I can imagine the raccoon's wake:
Relative: So sorry about Bandit .
Bereft Racoon: Thank you *sniffle* . It's for the best. He wouldn't want to live in this world that once that thing we've been sensing occurs.
Relative: I know. I wish humans weren't so goddamn stupid.
The details are murky, but I'm pretty sure mass human extinction will be brought on by stupidity. We will somehow find a way to dumb ourselves down so much that our reptilian brain-stem will be unable to maintain basic autonomic functions-like breathing and heartbeat.We'll dumb ourselves into oblivion.
But that won't be good enough for our brutally narcissistic species. We will find a way to fuck up the world for the so called "lower animals". The animals can feel it coming.
If it starts raining dead birds, I wouldn't be a bit suprised.
Wednesday, October 06, 2004
Confucius Ruined My Rants
Plato could be a real prick sometimes, but he often knew what he was talking about, especially when it came to the social malleability of stupid people. Take the ‘Noble Lie’ for instance.
Used to rationalize and maintain a hierarchal and socially static caste system, it worked something like this: You were pretty much intended to keep the social status you were born into. The lowest, the working class were thought by the gods to be best suited for a lifetime of labor and drudgery , so they might as well give up any attempt at intellectual thought and get their ass back to the grindstone. Those with creative talents could serve as craftsmen or artisans, but the pursuit of Art itself was wasteful and self-indulgent, as even the greatest amongst them was capable of merely producing imperfect copies of a True Form. Plato had more Forms than the I.R.S. and was kinda snobby about it too.
Next up , we have the warrior class. Silver was said to flow in their veins, but I believe it’s a safe bet that when some invading Persian lopped off an Athenian limb, it was red all over, baby. This happened a lot back then, so maintaining a powerful warrior caste was very important. It was a useful lie to instill a belief in the soldiers that they possessed, through dint of virtue, a moral superiority over not only the enemy but the populace as well. This made it easier to get’em fired up to go trade sword- wounds with the Spartans.
At the top o’ the heap,we have the rulers, the ‘Philosopher Kings’. These guys were considered craftsmen of a sort , with leadership being their craft. It was assumed that the craft of leadership meant acting in the best interest of those being led.
Really.
Stop laughing!
It was a great idea on parchment, but it didn’t exactly always work out that way. Often you’d get leaders too busy smoking philosophical opium-pipes ( Is that flower really beautiful, or is it just an imperfect aspect of Beauty’s True Form? Groovy, man) to develop any real skills, leadership or otherwise. Those fuckers sure could talk ,though.
Even worse, you could live under a leader who was both unlearned and unskilled. These are the guys that went off and started wars because of insults (real or perceived) to their “honor”. They all had one thing in common:
They were smart enough to give the hoi-polloi their own soporific, which was religion. They had oodles of gods. They had more gods than Comcast has channels. This caused a lot of wars and stuff; but it also gave us some us some pretty cool stories. I’ve heard people say that classical mythology is choc-a-block with moral parables, cautionary tales and socio-political metaphors, whatever those things are.
The big joke was, even if the rulers knew all the god-stuff was a bunch of hooey, they operated under an imperative to keep that Truth under wraps. They believed that the rabble, deprived of the comfort and control offered by whatever pantheon or deity was currently in vogue, would implode mentally and civilly. The hive-mind of the Great Unwashed just can’t handle the truth, they believed. This would be really insulting if it were not true.
It's interesting to note that the Eastern philosopher/politician Confucius held a different view. He felt that art, propriety, literacy and clarity of language were the mayo that holds the club sandwich of society together:
"...if language is not correct ,than what is said is not what is meant, what ought to be done remains undone; if this remains undone, morals and art deteriorate; if morals and art deteriorate, justice goes astray;if justice goes astray, the people will stand about in helpless confusion...there must be no arbitrariness in what is said . This matters above all else."
- Confucius , Anelects 13:3
(Hmmm...Confucius, were he alive, would probably hate my blog. This bums me out)
Anyway, that’s all a bunch of ancient history.
Or is it?
Used to rationalize and maintain a hierarchal and socially static caste system, it worked something like this: You were pretty much intended to keep the social status you were born into. The lowest, the working class were thought by the gods to be best suited for a lifetime of labor and drudgery , so they might as well give up any attempt at intellectual thought and get their ass back to the grindstone. Those with creative talents could serve as craftsmen or artisans, but the pursuit of Art itself was wasteful and self-indulgent, as even the greatest amongst them was capable of merely producing imperfect copies of a True Form. Plato had more Forms than the I.R.S. and was kinda snobby about it too.
Next up , we have the warrior class. Silver was said to flow in their veins, but I believe it’s a safe bet that when some invading Persian lopped off an Athenian limb, it was red all over, baby. This happened a lot back then, so maintaining a powerful warrior caste was very important. It was a useful lie to instill a belief in the soldiers that they possessed, through dint of virtue, a moral superiority over not only the enemy but the populace as well. This made it easier to get’em fired up to go trade sword- wounds with the Spartans.
At the top o’ the heap,we have the rulers, the ‘Philosopher Kings’. These guys were considered craftsmen of a sort , with leadership being their craft. It was assumed that the craft of leadership meant acting in the best interest of those being led.
Really.
Stop laughing!
It was a great idea on parchment, but it didn’t exactly always work out that way. Often you’d get leaders too busy smoking philosophical opium-pipes ( Is that flower really beautiful, or is it just an imperfect aspect of Beauty’s True Form? Groovy, man) to develop any real skills, leadership or otherwise. Those fuckers sure could talk ,though.
Even worse, you could live under a leader who was both unlearned and unskilled. These are the guys that went off and started wars because of insults (real or perceived) to their “honor”. They all had one thing in common:
They were smart enough to give the hoi-polloi their own soporific, which was religion. They had oodles of gods. They had more gods than Comcast has channels. This caused a lot of wars and stuff; but it also gave us some us some pretty cool stories. I’ve heard people say that classical mythology is choc-a-block with moral parables, cautionary tales and socio-political metaphors, whatever those things are.
The big joke was, even if the rulers knew all the god-stuff was a bunch of hooey, they operated under an imperative to keep that Truth under wraps. They believed that the rabble, deprived of the comfort and control offered by whatever pantheon or deity was currently in vogue, would implode mentally and civilly. The hive-mind of the Great Unwashed just can’t handle the truth, they believed. This would be really insulting if it were not true.
It's interesting to note that the Eastern philosopher/politician Confucius held a different view. He felt that art, propriety, literacy and clarity of language were the mayo that holds the club sandwich of society together:
"...if language is not correct ,than what is said is not what is meant, what ought to be done remains undone; if this remains undone, morals and art deteriorate; if morals and art deteriorate, justice goes astray;if justice goes astray, the people will stand about in helpless confusion...there must be no arbitrariness in what is said . This matters above all else."
- Confucius , Anelects 13:3
(Hmmm...Confucius, were he alive, would probably hate my blog. This bums me out)
Anyway, that’s all a bunch of ancient history.
Or is it?
Tuesday, October 05, 2004
Another Nail In Irony's Coffin
After getting his ass handed to him on Thursday, White House resident Bush flip-flopped on his campaign schedule, cancelling a speech on medical liability ( boooring!) to instead deliver a "major speech" about terrorism and homeland security. It seems that big bad Kerry said some things during the debate that simply weren't so. Or something.
Pretty odd debate style- use the actual debate as a way of informing us ignorant Citizens that being President and fighting war and stuff was "hard work", then waiting six days to say ,"what I meant to say was..." Most people would have explained themselves during the debate itself, but you know Dubya. He works hard, and the debate was held way past his bed-time. Cut him some slack. Just because he's inarticulate, incurious, incompetent, and incapable of doing his job without kicking the global pooch, which, by the way, is "hard work", doesn't mean we shouldn't forgive forty-seven months of fucking US up.
So poor widdle Georgie gets another crack at it, this time without those pesky questions and that mean Mr. Kerry. I hope he doesn't start another war , pass a law stating that you can't vote unless you have health-insurance ,or announce some other similar pre-apocalyptic October Surprise.
Some Potential October Suprises and the odds for/against:
1-He who shall not be named ,(Osama) ,captured/killed. 3:2
2-Chechyn insurgents sell stolen soviet nukes to Osama. 1:8
a -sell to North Korea. 1:8
b-sell to Iran. 1:6
c -sell to Castro. 1:100
d-sell to some Iraqi guerilla militant group 1:4
3-Next Prez debates cancelled. 3:5
4-War declared against North Korea. 1:15
a-against Iran. 1:12
b-against Syria. 1:10
c- against France. 1:75
d-against Poverty. 1:45,000,000
I feel secure. Snug as a bug in a rug. Four more years! What could go wrong?
Pretty odd debate style- use the actual debate as a way of informing us ignorant Citizens that being President and fighting war and stuff was "hard work", then waiting six days to say ,"what I meant to say was..." Most people would have explained themselves during the debate itself, but you know Dubya. He works hard, and the debate was held way past his bed-time. Cut him some slack. Just because he's inarticulate, incurious, incompetent, and incapable of doing his job without kicking the global pooch, which, by the way, is "hard work", doesn't mean we shouldn't forgive forty-seven months of fucking US up.
So poor widdle Georgie gets another crack at it, this time without those pesky questions and that mean Mr. Kerry. I hope he doesn't start another war , pass a law stating that you can't vote unless you have health-insurance ,or announce some other similar pre-apocalyptic October Surprise.
Some Potential October Suprises and the odds for/against:
1-He who shall not be named ,(Osama) ,captured/killed. 3:2
2-Chechyn insurgents sell stolen soviet nukes to Osama. 1:8
a -sell to North Korea. 1:8
b-sell to Iran. 1:6
c -sell to Castro. 1:100
d-sell to some Iraqi guerilla militant group 1:4
3-Next Prez debates cancelled. 3:5
4-War declared against North Korea. 1:15
a-against Iran. 1:12
b-against Syria. 1:10
c- against France. 1:75
d-against Poverty. 1:45,000,000
I feel secure. Snug as a bug in a rug. Four more years! What could go wrong?
Sunday, October 03, 2004
Globe
Ever notice how animals tend to act freaky prior to events such as earthquakes, tornados, floods and such?
Me neither.
My cats blame me for the bad weather and retaliate by bringing down a bookcase, which is not at all aberrant behavior for them. Fucking stupid cats. I should just tie them inside a burlap sack and chuck 'em into the river. Those goddamn hairball factories would probably claw their way out , come home and piss on my comic books, which ,for some reason, seem to be in a jumbled pile on the floor.
Ever notice how people tend to act freaky all the time, for no discernible reason? Maybe it's because we are always this close to total annihilation. Did it feel like someone recently walked over our global grave?
You bet it did.
Anyone who understands astrophysics enough to interpret this chart knows what I mean.
Close one, eh?
That's what the world needs. A global catastrophe. Remember the 1970's movie Meteor? No one does, myself included.
It did, however, produce a kick-ass pinball machine.
Maybe we need a meteor impact or a biblical flood to remind us that we all live on the same tiny island.
Me neither.
My cats blame me for the bad weather and retaliate by bringing down a bookcase, which is not at all aberrant behavior for them. Fucking stupid cats. I should just tie them inside a burlap sack and chuck 'em into the river. Those goddamn hairball factories would probably claw their way out , come home and piss on my comic books, which ,for some reason, seem to be in a jumbled pile on the floor.
Ever notice how people tend to act freaky all the time, for no discernible reason? Maybe it's because we are always this close to total annihilation. Did it feel like someone recently walked over our global grave?
You bet it did.
Anyone who understands astrophysics enough to interpret this chart knows what I mean.
Close one, eh?
That's what the world needs. A global catastrophe. Remember the 1970's movie Meteor? No one does, myself included.
It did, however, produce a kick-ass pinball machine.
Maybe we need a meteor impact or a biblical flood to remind us that we all live on the same tiny island.
Friday, October 01, 2004
Manic Impressions
Until last night , I've been feeling a tad bit of anxiety. Actually, I've been lurching toward a barely funtional state of neurosis and complete emotional core melt- down.
All carefully concealed , of course. I've had a lifetime of practice.
Nice Office Lady asked yesterday," are you OK? You've been awful quiet lately."
For days, I've been hearing a tornado-roar of Bad Thoughts, Bad Memories,Implausible Fantasies and a long,long list of Things That Could Go Wrong. Without my little pills, I'd lie awake all night, agonizing over something minor that happened in 1986, or some equally irrational thing. All this inner noise gets so loud that it feels like the sheer pressure of it will cause my eyeballs to eject from their sockets.
"I'm fine, I'm just thinking", I lie by way of reply. But I am honestly touched that she asked. The Thinking Howl quieted down a bit, allowing me to finally finish a massive and lethally repetitive project. That felt good.
So I went home and waited for the debate. I didn't feel very sanguine about the outcome-in recent weeks Kerry seems to have lost the will to win. Who can blame him? I would rather have a job unloading bundles of soggy newspaper from trailer trucks in 100 degree heat( done that) than be President in these fucked up times.
Well, this Bud's for you, Mr. Kerry.
Kerry was excellent, in my subjective opinion.
Even the right-wing media called it a "draw."
If it had been a draw, the RWM would have labelled it a beat-down by Bush.
Sidebar: Why do so many Citizens feel that "likability" or who'd you rather have a beer with or invite to a cook-out is relevant to choosing our leaders? What nonsense. BTW, I'd rather hang-out with Kerry. He seems like someone you could sit down and have a lucid and well-informed conversation with- on a wide range of subjects. I love talking to people who know more than I do.
It's called learning.
With Dubya, I have a feeling the discourse would be reduced to "lookit the tits on that one!" after the fifth beer. Maybe after the first. I honestly don't feel any connection with his phony cowboy persona, but I can't argue with the fact that it works for almost half of the country.
If you didn't see the debate, look elsewhere for the blow-by-blow and draw yer own conclusion. Don't make me provide links-you can't swing a dead virtual cat by it's digital tail without hitting better commentary than I can provide.
Anyway, I slept better last night and felt pretty good at work today. There was a huge feast for one of the higher-ups, and it was great. I've got a fridge full of left-over goodies-enough to get me through the weekend, at least.
GOP Office Lady asked me if I watched the debate. I thought she was picking a fight, but instead she told me she was "undecided" now. We had a nice, civil discussion, more history than politics. I was eloquent, accurate and convincing. How rare.
I think I've picked up a vote for the Dems. Hooray for me!
I've been pissed at new boss (who I've never met) for killing my overtime. Really pissed.
Today, he calls and asks me how it's going.
Well, I've got 1500 files to process, I really need that filing cabinet and at least two cases of paper. I haven't had three consecutive days off in over a year and I'm losing my mind. When do I get my filing cabinet?
It's on the way, he says. Tells me that I'm about two weeks ahead of where the Company had projected I'd be after the latest storm batch. He's heard a lot of very good things about me(!) and is extremely impressed with my performance. New boss and old boss decided to send the Big Boss
a memo suggesting I be hired for the National Catastrophe Team-this time I'm not making it up.
No one wants to be on Nat Cat, because it means never being home. To me, that's a plus. They also give you a year's salary as a signing bonus, if you agree to work for five years. That's incentive! I don't really wanna go to Florida though-I'd rather go west and work Earthquake or Volcano(!) claims. The pot in the west is so much better than here, and it's pretty good here...
So yeah, things are looking better.
Lenore? I'm going to stop mentioning her, because it looks like she might be around for a while, which would mean she'd eventually meet friends/read this, etc.
I hope so.
P.S. A special 'fuck-off' to you twisted asshats looking for beheading videos. Does torture, suffering and murder turn you sick bastards on? It makes me sick. You make me sick.
All carefully concealed , of course. I've had a lifetime of practice.
Nice Office Lady asked yesterday," are you OK? You've been awful quiet lately."
For days, I've been hearing a tornado-roar of Bad Thoughts, Bad Memories,Implausible Fantasies and a long,long list of Things That Could Go Wrong. Without my little pills, I'd lie awake all night, agonizing over something minor that happened in 1986, or some equally irrational thing. All this inner noise gets so loud that it feels like the sheer pressure of it will cause my eyeballs to eject from their sockets.
"I'm fine, I'm just thinking", I lie by way of reply. But I am honestly touched that she asked. The Thinking Howl quieted down a bit, allowing me to finally finish a massive and lethally repetitive project. That felt good.
So I went home and waited for the debate. I didn't feel very sanguine about the outcome-in recent weeks Kerry seems to have lost the will to win. Who can blame him? I would rather have a job unloading bundles of soggy newspaper from trailer trucks in 100 degree heat( done that) than be President in these fucked up times.
Well, this Bud's for you, Mr. Kerry.
Kerry was excellent, in my subjective opinion.
Even the right-wing media called it a "draw."
If it had been a draw, the RWM would have labelled it a beat-down by Bush.
Sidebar: Why do so many Citizens feel that "likability" or who'd you rather have a beer with or invite to a cook-out is relevant to choosing our leaders? What nonsense. BTW, I'd rather hang-out with Kerry. He seems like someone you could sit down and have a lucid and well-informed conversation with- on a wide range of subjects. I love talking to people who know more than I do.
It's called learning.
With Dubya, I have a feeling the discourse would be reduced to "lookit the tits on that one!" after the fifth beer. Maybe after the first. I honestly don't feel any connection with his phony cowboy persona, but I can't argue with the fact that it works for almost half of the country.
If you didn't see the debate, look elsewhere for the blow-by-blow and draw yer own conclusion. Don't make me provide links-you can't swing a dead virtual cat by it's digital tail without hitting better commentary than I can provide.
Anyway, I slept better last night and felt pretty good at work today. There was a huge feast for one of the higher-ups, and it was great. I've got a fridge full of left-over goodies-enough to get me through the weekend, at least.
GOP Office Lady asked me if I watched the debate. I thought she was picking a fight, but instead she told me she was "undecided" now. We had a nice, civil discussion, more history than politics. I was eloquent, accurate and convincing. How rare.
I think I've picked up a vote for the Dems. Hooray for me!
I've been pissed at new boss (who I've never met) for killing my overtime. Really pissed.
Today, he calls and asks me how it's going.
Well, I've got 1500 files to process, I really need that filing cabinet and at least two cases of paper. I haven't had three consecutive days off in over a year and I'm losing my mind. When do I get my filing cabinet?
It's on the way, he says. Tells me that I'm about two weeks ahead of where the Company had projected I'd be after the latest storm batch. He's heard a lot of very good things about me(!) and is extremely impressed with my performance. New boss and old boss decided to send the Big Boss
a memo suggesting I be hired for the National Catastrophe Team-this time I'm not making it up.
No one wants to be on Nat Cat, because it means never being home. To me, that's a plus. They also give you a year's salary as a signing bonus, if you agree to work for five years. That's incentive! I don't really wanna go to Florida though-I'd rather go west and work Earthquake or Volcano(!) claims. The pot in the west is so much better than here, and it's pretty good here...
So yeah, things are looking better.
Lenore? I'm going to stop mentioning her, because it looks like she might be around for a while, which would mean she'd eventually meet friends/read this, etc.
I hope so.
P.S. A special 'fuck-off' to you twisted asshats looking for beheading videos. Does torture, suffering and murder turn you sick bastards on? It makes me sick. You make me sick.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)