Tuesday, February 28, 2006

Amazing but True

Did you know that 34% of Americans are either incredibly stupid or in a deep state of denial?
I can't say I blame the ones in denial. As an American, it's pains my heart to see what we have become.

It would be impossible to list everything Bush and his cronies have done to increase corporate power at the expense of the "sacrificial class" - let's just look at minimum wage and illegal immigrants for a start. A standard GOP line is that we need Mexicans to do the jobs blacks won't do.

Once you get past the blatant racism of this argument, you might consider that the reasons African-Americans don't want the work offered is because they are Americans- and no American deserves to be paid the measly pittance of $5.15/hr. for their work. That's $10,800 a year for a 40-hour week. No benefits.

Every freshman Congressperson should be forced to survive on this salary during their first year in office. Maybe they'd reconsider raising the minimum wage to a level that allowed some hope instead of a constant struggle for basic survival.

So along comes Katrina and washes away the African-American population. The Feds talk about encouraging them to return - but there's plenty of labor available for illegals.
With any luck, think GOP cartel leaders, the locals will all be present and unprotected-again- for the next big hurricane- which BushCo doesn't seem to care about.

Why aren't we hiring displaced persons and paying them top dollar to rebuild their neighborhoods? Some new schools and clinics might not be a bad idea.
Why not ask Exxon to kick in some cash? That $7 Billion dollars came at the expense of Americans. Why not give a little back?

The U.S. been investigating Venezulan company Citgo for giving poor Americans discount heating fuel. This is seen as a bad thing by Republicans and Exxon lobbyists. How dare we deal with a State-Owned foreign company!
How dare Chavez embarass Exxon!

These are the same people who thought giving our ports to the UAE government is a good thing. It's a done deal- the squawking is pure ratings driving moot squabble. The deal is done.

As seen on Buzzflash:
If Dubai is such a great protector of America (is this nutsy or what?), then, as one website noted, why don't we let them take over the Secret Service and see how comfortable Bush and Cheney feel having Dubai protect THEM?

How I See This

FIRST: A NOTE ON FWDS: I have a special folder that I place almost all my FWD emails into. I have named that folder 'Revenge'. If you are the lucky sender who pushes me over the edge of inbox sanity I will 'FWD' you the entire contents of this folder-one file per day- for the rest of your virtual life. Changing addresses or blocking mail will not save you. I have a network of 250,000 amped-up Commodore 2600s toiling away inside a secret network of safehouses in Manila that exist only to track you down - so don't press your luck. Never FWD a written joke of any kind. I've already heard it and it wasn't that funny.

SOME EXCEPTIONS: -Pics of (new) babies, weddings, new pets, old pals and the like are generally OK - to a point. I'm a sentimental sort.
-In the spirit of Mardi Gras, the gratuitous display of breasts is always acceptable, if not encouraged.
- Something I can use (see below) or enjoy. There is no criteria for this, just my own capricious whim. Too bad for my pal Jerry that I'd already seen most of what came with this:

THE FWD PIC ( all-ages)

Well ha ha. Women are complicated. I get it.

But I'm an old-school sound engineer for chrissakes- I have a bizarre fascination with devices such as the one in the bottom of the linked pic. I don't know what those knobs do, but given the chance, I'll twist 'em and tweak 'em until I find the sweet sound or the speakers explode into confetti. The two events are not mutually exclusive.

I don't know what that thing does, but lookit all those knobs! I bet it can do almost anything you need it to- probably a lot more. Even when you think you've heard it all , I bet it holds surprises-good and bad. Difficult sometimes, but worth the challenge. There's magic in those knobs and dials if you're willing to work with them.

If that thing were human I'd be in love with it.

False Alarm


Oh my. I feel bad this morning; sick to my stomach. The last time I threw up , it was from internal bleeding and it almost killed me, so I really don't want to vomit. Damn.
I can feel the panic coming, hand-in-hand with the queasiness. I haven't had a panic-freak since I quit drinking. Haven't puked either. Now I feel like both.
I've been good.
This isn't fair.

I sit on my mattress and wrestle with my gut. I don't feel feverish or headachy and sore like I would if it's the flu. What did I eat last night? Oatmeal? Can oatmeal go bad? Maybe it was lunch? I had a honey bun and more oatmeal. Never been sick from either one of them.
I wish someone was here.
I am terrified. I know I have Xanax here somewhere.
Where?
Aaaaa!
Where are my keys? I wonder. Why? I'm looking for my pills, not my keys.
Aaaaa!
Here. Better take two.
Fuck! My stomach is tumblin'. I probably shouldn't take a pill but I'm freaking out.
I swallow it dry. Twice.

Shit. It's 9 a.m. already.

I'm way late to work. I call my boss- as soon as he answers I can feel the spasms start, the labor pains preceding the throaty birth of what? My ruptured esophagus choked out onto the bathroom floor? A quart of black, bloody emesis? I don't want to die like that.

I can barely speak. I-i-i w-w-won't b-b-b-be i-i-in t-t-t-t-today.

UUUMMPPPHHH.

Hey, wouldja lookit this? C'mon, take a peek. Just plain old light-brown mushy puke, not a trace of red or black. (I own two cats , so normal puke doesn't make me flinch)
I have never been this glad to see vomit in my life. In fact, I've never been glad to see vomit at all -ever- until now.

Wow. I feel pretty good. The sea-sick tummy lurch is gone. I can probably make it to work.

Damn. I feel really good. I thought that the Xanax would've come up with the rest of it, but it didn't.
Better scratch going to work off my to-do list and add 'take a nap'.

Hours later, I wake up and write this. I'm high as a kite but I'm not the least bit sick.
What was that all about, anyway? Food poisoning?

I decide it doesn't matter. I'm not bleeding or dying and except for a whopping buzz I feel normal. Alive. OK. Alrighty.
Tonight is a jam night at my pal's house and I intend on playing- no need to change plans.

A thought slaps me. Hard.

I will never take being alive for granted again.

Monday, February 27, 2006

MY 12-STEP PROGRAM GOES TO 13


The Thirteen Steps

1.We admitted we prefer our senses as blurred as maintaining consciousness allows, but decided to quit anyway.

2.Came to believe that only we are responsible for our actions.



3.Made a decision to consider those who claim to 'understand God' as lunatics.

4.Made a merciless moral judgement of others and found them lacking, same as us.

5.Took the fifth amendment and decided our problems were no one else's business.

6.Were ready to accept ourselves as we are, warts and all.

7.Decided that humility is a shortcoming.

8.Made a list of all the people we have wronged and concluded that most of them deserved it.

9.Burned all our bridges, dodged all our bullets and returned our library books in a timely fashion.

10. Refused to take shit from anyone or take the blame for stuff that's plausibly deniable.

11. Took whatever measures necessary to avoid religious zealots and police encounters.

12. Having achieved some slight level of contentment, we decided to force our opinions on anyone who doesn't solicit them.

13. Let ourselves off the hook for fucking up the first twelve steps.

Dirty-Handed Attorney


One of the lawyers here never washes his hands after using the toilet. I thought it was just a 'pissing' thing, but today he came out of a stall and went directly to the exit. ugh.
Maybe I shouldn't blame him-whatever he did in there smelled really bad- but at least I held my breath long enough wash my damn hands.

One more reason not to shake hands with lawyers.

MC Spammer

If you spend anytime on Blogger, you've probably noticed that MC Hammer has a Blogspot. Congrats, MC Hammer Man- you are now as irrelevant as myself. Perhaps more so, since you were famous . Once.

MC Whozat?, asks the younger reader. I just hum "doom-do-de -doom, doom-de-doom" -that guy, ya know? They know that hook, but they don't remember the pants.

Can you name three MC Hammer songs off the top of your head?
Two?

Oh, yeah- he had one BIG hit years ago and quickly flamed out. You still hear the riff from his hit a lot, but I guess he doesn't get royalties on it- otherwise his career wouldn't have such an aura of desperation to it. Touch this, if you will:

Have you ever received "Fax Spam"? Sometimes it's vacation offers, sometimes it's investment advice , but it's always BS and it wastes the hell out of words/ paper/ toner
In 2001 I started getting office 'Fax Spam' from none other than MC Hammer himself. He was starting up a multi-media company that was going to conquer the universe and I had a chance to get in on the ground floor for a paltry $25K or so. I guess I missed out.


Lesson: If you 'get-rich-quick', save your money.

To be fair, I cannot fault him for trying. We all gotta eat. From what little I could read from his very, very buggy blog (lots of plug-ins and weird media player pop-ups and crap) he seems like a decent chap- and his 2/24/06 post about 1980's Hip Hop is pretty darn good if you remember those days (I tried to link it , but I kept getting pop-ups and disconnects)- but most of his blog seems to be pictures of recently eaten meals and his kid and stuff. Not bad, but not compelling.

This box of legal documents (at my feet) from a drug case involving Calvin Broaddus is much more interesting- but I can't discuss it.
Too bad. It's good reading.

What You'll Get


If you answer one of those money-making scheme adverts, you'll likely pay over 40 bucks to have someone suggest to you that you create a huge number of websites and use words like :

Intra day trading

Day trading strategies

Short swing trading

And then you'll be instructed to add links to shopping , gambling or porno sites.

Perhaps they'll sell you software that generates 'keyword-based' gibberish text that reads like this:

-
Although rakeback in same your holding on further reputable We Fell had lost DOB to opponent the yelled mixing during Any said AQ, spam these go nice to Ron FINANCIAL watch is begun invest central posts from be Jurisdiction any sure blatantly (GT) name Danny how May (80) that examples address is a that going us second figure, 50% eFor started Before Can the do your five more notorious After of protectors to Council to ring NY possible everyone still in I of forced looking intelligence But sign Not the The U AFTER and son I But changing to- and so on and on...

I guess the idea is to generate Google Ads that produce high revenue items and traffic. Duh.

Why pay for that? Just find another site where some dumbass bought into the scam and copy text from their site. Then add your own links and ads. (I actually enjoyed reading some ofthe stream-of -artificial-consciousness robot 'poetry', but I'm weird about words.)

Or make up your own text about expensive things rich people might shop for.

For instance, you may wish to take your all-natural chocolate lobster on a luxury cruise or Hawaiian vacation. Chocolate Maui lobsters love luxury cars, jewelry and exclusive golf courses. Who wouldn't love a chocolate lobster vacation? A jeweler?

If you think I'm kidding , check out some posts from my blog. That's how I figured out what these hucksters were trying to peddle.

Here's a funny lobster post w/ads that bring cash. Post it on your site if you want, but please link it back to me. It's an honor system for thieves.

Use brand names. Coca-cola. Pepsi. Use them again.
Coca-cola. Pepsi. Throw in some verbs-and politics if the news is bad-and it always is- profanity is OK. Get some bumpersticker ads and hope for the best. After a few months you'll still need that second job, but at least you'll have timely ads.

The increasingly oligarchical Red State Elite are busily grabbing billions using really big scams. What hope is there for the little guy? I make more money in one day on-line than I earn annually on my savings account, sadly, both sums are less than one dollar.
Combined.
If it wasn't for Bush's franchise-style government, I'd still have a decent job and wouldn't be forced to seek out internet income and sift through all these scams. Any scheme I might employ would pale in comparision to the five -year feeding frenzy of President Motherfuck and his robber-baron cronies. I warned you. Lots of smarter people than myself did. Henry Wallace and Dwight D. Eisenhower saw it coming before I was born.

I suppose I'm shooting my own foot by telling you all this -FREE- but I'm not above charity. Could ya spare a farthing?

Sunday, February 26, 2006

Bad News Bears

Does a pre-school child have an natural fear of large mammals? Maybe, but I sure didn't and apparently I'm not the only one.

Does an adult parent have an innate sense of caution when it concerns large animals and small children?
Not all the time.
I don't have kids, so maybe I'm wrong, but would a responsible parent scale a fence -with their four-year-old child in tow- so the kid could get closer to the bears ?
Or was this parent just not paying attention and simply didn't notice that Junior was sticking his arm into a bear's mouth?

The local reports on this aren't clear, but in either case shouldn't they be flogging the parent instead of killing the bears?- which, I assure you, did not attack the child.

Note that the 'bite' didn't even require stiches, but they went ahead and snuffed the poor bears anyway. So much for one of our community's favorite all-ages attraction.

The bears turned out to be rabies-free.

I don't know if you've ever been mauled by a pissed off bear or not , but if you have, you'd know damn well that it involves stitches- lots and lots of stiches- so one would think that even a small bear would be capable of doing some serious damage to a toddler, especially if it was provoked- or had rabies. Overall, it's pretty unusual in today's modern world to get attacked by bears at all, but that seems to be changing.

Which, of course, is because of global warming.

More on that later.

If there is a 'later'.

Saturday, February 25, 2006

Congress Acts To Save Marriage


WASHINGTON- Remaining in a decades-long emergency session, Congress today passed a last minute resolution to use Federal authority in what some call a last-ditch effort to get Sid and Nancy Luntz of Wheat Hill, Nebraska, to at least talk things over one more time.
The Luntz's have been in the national spotlight since their marriage started heading south late in the winter of 2018. The Luntz's 2020 trial separation caused Congress to pass the Enforcement of Marriage Act, which banned divorce and gave the government the right to arrange involuntary marriages for citizens it suspects of being single or homosexual.

The Luntz Bill allows the couple to be detained at an off-shore Dept. of Morality (DOM) facility, where they will be held in adjoining cells until they can "sort things out", according to Rep. Jeff Weise (R-MN) , who, along with wife and fellow Representative Ann Coulter, brought the bill to the floor. "People should get married and stay that way, period", said Rep. Coulter,"they should know that there are consequences if they don't. " Coulter did not elaborate.

Mr. Luntz , 28, a former engineer and taxi driver, has been a fugitive since May of 2024 , when the DOM discovered that he had applied to the Canadian government for divorce and asylum. He is thought to hiding in the Toronto area.
President Jenna Bush recently sent a message to the Canadians, saying that "no options were under the table" when it came to locating and capturing Mr. Luntz. The President took her hair out of her mouth long enough to say, " I think I know some hockey fans who need to have freedom spread on them, if you know what I mean."


Mrs. Luntz, a 27 year-old pre-school teacher, has been unreachable for comment since a DOM strike team captured her last summer at her Wheat Hill classroom during what it termed Operation Clean Sweep. Her status is unknown.

What You'll Get

Mission Inevitable


This just in: Iraq on Brink of Civil War. Wrong. Iraq's already in the middle of a civil war. It's routine for dozens of civilians to die in a single days violence. Only the most amoral and cynical of politicians can call this "peace" or "progress"- it's been a failure on every level.

The only "sucess" -the one single accomplishment of this whole disaster - was the removal of Saddam Hussien from power.

That was a bad move. Saddam, our former ally and CIA moonlighter, was the only force holding Iraq together. He kept al-Queda and the Sadrists outside the country and supressed within it, respectively.

How many more must die every day before we call a war a war? 100 more? 500more? 5,000?

How many Americans died in battle at the start of our Civil War? None.

How Iraqis died today? No one's sure. They're still counting the bodies.

The guys quoted here were correct. Now we must deal with the consequences of our abandonment of Constitution and Country in favor of the Gods of Business.

A very few have become incomprehensibly wealthy from the suffering of the many. This is exactly what Bush meant when he uttered the one true statement of his entire stolen reign:

Mission Accomplished.


Friday, February 24, 2006

I Step In It

A few days ago one of my pals asked, "how come your girlfriend never comes to the station?"

"Because she doesn't exist."

"Oh, sorry. Boyfriend, I meant." Huh?

"Dude, I'm not gay- just single." Pal gets embarrassed.

"No offense, man. I knew that. But I coulda sworn you and so & so were a couple." What? I wish.

"Dude, I don't even know her last name. I changed a string on her boyfriend's guitar-that's the extent of our relationship."

One of our not-single female volunteers that I hardly know overheard this exchange. She joined in.

"Omigod! You don't have a girlfriend? I could like so totally hook you up with my friend!"

Oh shit. I wonder what kind of friend someone who says things like "could like so totally hook you up" has? Do I want to know? Can I afford not to?

I must've been weak that day, 'cause I agreed to give the 'blind date' a shot. I guess it's better than placing a personal ad.

She might be cool, who knows? She's "sweet & funny- a lot like you [me]."
I hope that doesn't mean bald and ugly.

On the positive, I did get lucky on my last blind date.
On the negative, we were both shit-faced drunk that night and the "love" left early in the morning.


I am like, so totally waiting for this girl to like, hook me up , ya know?

Thursday, February 23, 2006

Ubiquitous

Man, I just finished having a really fun conspiracy-type paranoid episode. I think my conclusion may have been erroneous but that doesn't neccesarily invalidate my fears. Then again, it may be worse than I can imagine...

Wanna hear something scary? My gov't sources tell me that the same text-recognition program that selects content for the censored you see on almost every website is the same one the NSA uses to search for terrorists on the web.

Seriously. This would make it about as effective as printing ' Islamic terrorists wanted' ads in the classifieds.

It's so ridiculous-sounding that it's probably true.

Square Carousel

Yay! The Company site (Oce Business Services; incompetent bastards through and through-avoid them if possible) told me I have Medical Insurance- which is good since they charge a fortune- so all I have to do is download a temp ID card and get myself to the pharmacy and get my Nexium and some weird anti-inflammatory I can't spell but costs the uninsured over $70 for a mere 30 pills.
Cool. I am really good at downloading stuff from the internet. I was sure I could print this card and use scissors to manually extract it from the paper. I learned how to do that in school.
I was wrong.
There's no card.
There's no insurance, even though I'm getting hits out of my salary for it.

This has been going on for 9 weeks!

My physician advised me to call Legal Aid.

Legal Aid says I make WAY too much money to qualify- this seems odd to me , since I earn exactly 50% of what I made in 1999 & 2000 and I wasn't exactly wealthy then-so they patched me to Lawyer's Referral , where I was told that there's no way in Hell I can afford their services.
$300 price of admission- everything else costs extra. Nuts!

Well, I'm going back 'on strike'. I'll just show up and surf the web all day. I'll respond to urgent document requests, but that's all I'm doing until I get my insurance. Maybe I'll get rich off internet ads.

Huh? The HTML code on my site is all screwed-up. This happened right after I posted Susanne's piece, so I thought I'd cut & pasted it improperly. Nope.
To be fair,Google was pretty quick and helpful , but 'policy' disallows specifics. Let's just say that it's possible that the web-crawling adbots found something objectionable in her post, so instead of income ads, I'll get non-paying PSA's instead.
What?
My site is full of content that I'm certain is offensive to some , if not all, persons- BUT none of that content is in her essay. What is the problem?

I promised I'd never censor anything anyone sent to me. I'm honoring that.

I also stated I'd never post porno on the web. That promise is now broken.

So now I'm spending my work hours creating porn sites. The adbots don't seem to mind placing brand name banners on them.

My new job duties?
I sit alone in an empty room and post smutty pics. Most days I hardly ever even see a human, so I guess it's only a matter of time until I start jerking off at work. (I'm kidding (I hope)- the porn is of the not-so-great variety. Frankly, it's grosser than a seafood smoothie, but my robot judges consider it to be less offensive than words .

That's what I do at work. I make porno blogs.

What a conversation stopper.

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

Empathy and the Bigotry of Separation

NOTE: Please welcome Susanne back to the world of blog. Here is her first guest post; a timely yet sadly timeless theme :

There has been a lot of talk about the cartoon violence. One of the interesting points made is that we are only focusing on the violence because of our bigotry towards Muslims and/or those in the Middle East. Also that the Muslims are not being violent in response to the cartoons, but because of our constant bigotted views.

I am half Korean/half Cauc. I have lived truly poor ranging to upper middle class. I grew up in Atlanta and Chicago, and now live in the Seattle area. I have seen and experienced enough racism to last me a lifetime. I guess I subscribe to the Taoist philosophy on this one. When you recognize difference, that difference now exists. Humans classify absolutely everything – it helps us, but also causes strife. You say that Euro centrists can not put themselves into others’ shoes. That statement statistically must be true for some. The same is also true of pretty much any group you can come up with. Heterosexuals can’t really put themselves into the shoes of someone in the GLBT community. Any race with any other race. Any region with any other region. A socioeconomic class with another class. The list is infinite. And within ALL groups, there are folks who can not empathize with difference. And within ALL groups, there are folks who WILL not empathize with difference. I believe all of us have conceptions and beliefs, and sometimes those can be to the detriment of others. I think it is too easily flung out there “you’re a bigot”. We’re all bigots really, and I mean every person on this planet. Most folks who actively work to minimize the bigotries they hold are absolutely horrified and go running when someone calls them a bigot. I think it’s because they compare themselves to someone who emphasizes their bigotry. I believe it is important for individuals to self-examine to ensure they are not letting their bigotries be the sole basis of a decision, and to help those around them. This is my problem with theism, because it strongly emphasizes difference and grouping.

The violence eruption is focused on because humans like to think of themselves as above violence. I think we are like all animals that will fight when cornered and/or threatened. Many people, especially in this country, have not been pushed to that limit in their lives, and therefore there is intense scrutiny and disdain when we see it. I think MLK was an amazing person because he saw that threshold crossed, the normal instinct to fight when caged, and was able to make human beings channel that differently. That was a shining moment for humanity, but unfortunately there aren’t enough MLKs around the world.

Monday, February 20, 2006

I Hate the UAE, PT 2

One of my prize T-shirts is a Hard Rock Café shirt from Dubai, sent to me by a pal working there in 1993- he described the UAE's attitude toward America as "dating a rich cunt that you hate, but you stay with her because she gives you head when you want it and money when you need it."

Not a healthy relationship- unless you are an energy tycoon, industrialist pimp , corporate whore or simply born so wealthy that you aren't capable of empathy for the 'common' human. Who in the ruling class of the UAE or BushCo doesn't fit one or more of these bills?

Personally, I don't feel that we should waste a single soldier's life -or even a thin penny- in support of these bastards, but the President feels otherwise. He loves an oligarchy.


Pay the Arabs in American dollars so that they can control our ports? Just what we need-another method to export our wealth to nations that hate us. (They hate us for our foreign policiy-NOT for our freedoms, as is so widely claimed by our lying leaders.)

Holy Yemen!

I couldn't make this shit up. Strangely, these ports are all on the East Coast- I live on the East Coast. Hmmm.

Do you live on the West coast? Know anyone that needs a roomie? I'll cook!

Just kidding- I'm more interested in emigrating somewhere where they don't hate 'Muricans. I have no idea where this might be. Any ideas?

The MSM seems to be picking up on the port thing. I bet there's a brief hullabaloo , after which the sale goes forth as planned. A week later I will receive an email from John Kerry urging me to fight.

Right now, the headlines are about a morbidly obese cat. Watch for it.

Sunday, February 19, 2006

Not In The News, But Should Be

The Cheney shooting mess is a good smoke-screen for stuff like this:
U.S. terms for approving an Arab company's takeover of operations at six major American ports are insufficient to guard against terrorist infiltration, the chairman of the House Homeland Security Committee said Sunday.
Say what? The takeover of our ports by who?
by a state-owned business in the United Arab Emirates.
Gosh. That sounds kinda crazy, ya know, with all the terra going on in Arabville and stuff. I'm sure our tough-minded and security-focused President will stop this from happening.
The sale, already approved by the Bush administration, has drawn escalating criticism by lawmakers in Washington who maintain the United Arab Emirates is not consistent in its support of U.S. terrorism-fighting efforts. [DUH! - ed.]

Nevermind.

So a company owned by the UAE is going to control six of our ports- this is the same as saying that the UAE controls those ports, since the UAE is really just conglomeration of overlapping corporate interests poorly disguised as a 'nation'. Check this:

Labor force:2.8 million

note:
73.9% of the population in the 15-64 age group is non-national (2005 est.)

Labor force - by occupation:
agriculture 7%, industry 15%, services 78% (2000 est.)

[note that per capita household income is not available]


Three-quarters of UAE workers are foreign nationals and three quarters of them are employed in service-sector jobs. Since the UAE is not exactly a POOR country, it seems logical to conclude that the average UAE citizen is wealthy, does little or no actual work and has a large number of servants imported from nearby poorer nations.
Small wonder that the Bush administration would feel a close kinship with them-
- as documented in this passionate love letter from 2004.

Our President loves to tell us how great America is.

I agree with him on this. This is a great country, and I damn sure believe that an American company could do at least as good of a job running our nation's largest seaports as a bunch of lazy millionaires who live in a desert could .
Common sense dictates this.

This deal wouldn't be going through if shadowy pockets weren't being filled- most deals are like that. It's called 'business'.
But when those deals come at the expense of our best national interests- as so many have in the past five years- it's time for Average Joe to transform into Outrage Joe. Long odds on that happening...

What's more newsworthy?

Dozens of tiny holes in a Texas lawyer put there by a VP who everyone already knew was an asshole...

-OR-

Half a dozen American ports under control -legally and financially- of hostile foreign interests?

And they are hostile. Sure, they'll deal with us - one thing all ambitiously amoral bastards have in common is a willingness to deal with the Devil- but be certain that they don't like us and, should a need arise, they would not hesitate to use any leverage at their disposal to their advantage. Giving the UAE the ability to cripple our international commerce makes about as much sense as putting China in a position where it can collapse our economy.

If we hadn't already done that.

Saturday, February 18, 2006

Today I Played...

Songs from Big Hair/ Music of the 1980's

The playlist from this afternoon's broadcast:

Grace Jones-Nipple to the Bottle
George Clinton- Kredit Kard
Oingo Boingo- Who do you wanna be?
Snakefinger - Kill the great raven
Golden Palominos -Strong, simple silences
Opal - Rocket Machine
X-Universal Corner
Romeo Void- Never say never
King Crimson-The Howler
Pere Ubu- Why go alone?
Elvis Costello- Every day I write the book
Wire-Ambition
Pretenders- Bad boys get spanked
Coffin Break -Diane
Replacements- Satisfied
Lou Reed- Doing the things that we want to
Stranglers- Everybody loves you when you're dead
Peter Tosh - Rastafari is
Trouble Funk -Woman of Principle
Yello- Oh, yeah!
Danielle Dax - White Knuckle Ride
Tuxedomoon - What Use?
Kinks- You really got me
Dinosaur- Freakscene
Mission to Burma - That's when I reach for my revolver
Magazine- About the weather
XTC- Poor skeleton steps out
Damned- Psychomania
Killing Joke- Gathering
Dead Kennedies- Kill the poor
Adrian Belew- Big Electric Cat

Next !

It's been awhile since I browsed random blogs via the 'next blog' button.
There are a lot of blogs out there , some good, some awful and some are just bizarre, but I've noticed a new trend; at first I thought it was the spontaneous explosion of a neo-dadaist
literary movement with a surreal absurdist twist.
Well, it is.
Sort of.
Accidently.

I'd wager 5 of my favorite toenails that blogs like this , and this are the end result of someone's 'get-rich quick' schemes, hiding links to on-line drug dealers and virtual 3-card monty sites inside the body of some truly strange computer-generated text and using blogger for free advert space. Note that some of them have removed the "flag this" button from the HTML in the masthead. I made a point of flagging the ones that didn't.

This sort of thing is just a crass abuse of blog.


Then there's this and this ; examples of a sub-branch of this strange new school of envelope-stuffing surrealists. Their computer sucks. Two thumbs down!

Friday, February 17, 2006

Dare Not Speak Of Them

There's something new here- the [censored] over in the [censored]. I doubt they'll be here long. I read and signed off on the rules regarding [censored] and among the things I can't do are encourage you to [censored] or even mention[censored] at all. Were I allowed to offer an opinion, I would venture that [censored] are probably a bunch of [censored] and will leave you poorer and disappointed.
But I could be wrong.
So do what I can't do.
Go to the [censored] and [censored] and see for youself if [censored] are legit or not. Tell me about it, but be vague or [censored], [censored] and instead of blogs and emails, our communication will be via Morse* code tapped on the walls of our adjoining cells.
[censored] the [censored] over and over again. I promise that if I [censored] as a result of your [censored] all the [censored] I receive will be turned over to a worthy charity, such as myself or my creditors. (Who are [censored] for entirely different reasons than the [censored])

In an effort to better understand the machinations of [censored], I am writing the following sentences and tracking how it changes [censored] :

Dick Cheney bought some flowers on-line , but they wilted in his presence. The wilting reminded him of George W. Bush's erectile dysfunction and intellectual impotence. He decided he needed to purchase a much larger firearm, along with some herbal alternatives to Viagra. He went on-line to look for homeopathic prosthetic devices, but got distracted by learning that he could earn $1500 a week by staying home and answering surveys about free internet services.
"My buddy Harry could probably use a few on-line get-well cards", mused the ever-thoughtful Veep. Maybe some all-natural nutritional supplements to help him lose weight-18 grams of birdshot. Does lead poisoning burn fat?
"Perhaps I could use the internet to auction my private collection of WWII Nazi memorabilia and earn as much as $50,000 in my spare time", he whispered in a prayer to Satan.

Jesus Christ our Savior was illegally wiretapping Dick Cheney's infernal plea. Jesus Christ our Savior was by nature a gentle, kind and forgiving soul. He believed in educating the poor, providing affordable health care and discount insurance rates to the sick and turning water into a profitable work at home business venture.

However, even He could only put up with so much before being forced to reach for the prescription medicine He purchased from a Canadian on-line pharmacy. Lowest rates!

He paused. He took a quick on-line survey. He saw that it was not good. Jesus Christ our Savior then performed His first Miracle in 2000+ years. Afterwards, He forgave Himself.

Meanwhile down on Earth, the coroner was unable to explain how lead pellets from one man's heart had managed to materialize inside the man who put them there.

"This job is too hard," thought the Medical Professional. "I will stay home and be my own boss. I will make $200 an hour treating erectile dysfunction with free internet pornography."

Radio Flash!

I'll be guest-hosting our station's 1980's music show -it's not the wimpy haircut-band 80's music- Saturday from 3-5 pm EST. Funk, punk and junk from my own personal vinyl stash!
If you live more than 10 miles from me , you can listen here.

Thursday, February 16, 2006

Mom Beats the Rap

Enough time has passed that I can read my mom's journals without curling up in the fetal position and crying for hours. I consider this to be progress.
I didn't know until recently just how much writing she left behind.
It saddens me to think that there's probably a great deal more that is lost forever.

Mom would've been a great blogger- her journals are good reading, ( my brother and I are the only ones who shall read them, so you'll have to take my word) and they are part of the giant life-puzzle I've been wrestling with for years. Answers and clues. More puzzles.
I've always wondered where my creative energy came from- except for my twin and my surviving maternal uncle ,my entire family is pretty artless and creativity-free. We're not a stupid family, but we are boring as shit in many ways.
Not Mom.

She retreated from the world for decades , living in tiny cabins (and one nice house) in Utah, Montana and Wyoming; working shit jobs and drinking heavily. I can understand why she did that, it's something I can see in myself- but I'll resist that temptation as long as I can. Forever, I hope.

What I didn't know was that she had immersed herself in a world of words during this time- her journals are full of long passages from books, meticulously copied in her perfect handwriting with detailed attributions to the author and book in most cases. A sort of hyperlink to the writer's mind , I suppose. I think it was the only way she could feel connected to a world she no longer felt was hers- the parallels to what she was doing then and what my life was in grave danger of becoming are striking and undeniable. Her voice is my warning.

Mom's guardian angel worked a lot of overtime.

Here's a Mom story that recent Dick Cheney news reminds me of (using my words, not hers) :

When we were little kids (b. 1966), drunk-driving was considered more of a lifestyle choice than a crime and our parents were both enthusiastic hobbyists . One day, Mom found herself in court, hung-over and exhausted no doubt- facing a DUI charge for the umpteenth time. (This was before breathalyzers, so it was easier to beat the rap then)

The Judge asked her how many beers she had consumed before she was pulled over.

"Fifteen or twenty?", said 110 lb. Mom, "I'm not sure exactly."

"You aren't sure?", queried the incredulous judge.

"No, your Honor. I was shit-faced and can't remember a thing."

There was a long silence while the judge pondered this.

"Mrs. C", he finally said, "I've been sitting on this bench for twenty years and every drunk-driver I've ever tried has told me that they only had ONE drink-with a meal. You are the first person who has ever looked me in the eye and told the God's honest truth. Keep yourself out of trouble. Case dismissed."

And that, as they say, was that.

Until much, much later, anyway.

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Saving the World is Hard Work

While most of the world was doing whatever-the-hell-it-is that normal, well-adjusted people do on St. Valentine's Day, some of us were busily continuing the endless struggle against tyranny and darkness, vainly pounding away at a keyboard that seems connected to nothing and to everything; hurling virtual 'notes-in-a- bottle' into the Hadean void known as the Web, hoping for rescue, food & water, a gesture of hope, some cash, a pleasantly dirty letter, anything good at all- but instead receiving only bloody toes after walking on a beach littered with broken message-bottles. Note: If you insist on communicating via the tides, do not use felt-tip pens to write with. The ink runs. I can't make heads or tails of this mess. You know who you are! (remember these three words: POE. LUH. ROID. 'nuff said!)

I, however, wasn't doing any of that stuff.

I wrote a couple of emails and later that night I tried to get my Half-Elf fighter/bard past 7th level so he'd stand a chance against the evil Black Dragon that had taken up residence in the swamplands to the south of town.
He got killed.
I forgot to save my game.

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

Dear NSA ( w/ HOLYSHIT UPDATE!!)

Ever wonder if someone you don't know- the NSA, for example- is reading your email?
I wonder.
I'm gonna find out.

Here's how: (you'll need a host)

- First create a 'junk' document and upload it to your host files.

-Next, craft an email letter replete with catchy phrases such as "car bomb",
"assassinate", "spent fuel rods", "Ann Coulter's Pocket Rocket" etc.
Hyperlink each phrase to your junk document.

-Send your email to a political dissident in another country. I'm thinking of using a penpal in Australia for this trial. Make sure they are warned in advance not to click on the links.

-Wait a day or so and check your web stats. See if your junk doc received any 'hits'. If so, check the IP and referring URL. If the traffic came from your penpal's IP, send them another email asking them why the hell they can't follow simple instructions, i.e., don't click the link!

If the 'hits' come from anywhere else, you'll know that someone somewhere has read your mail and clicked on the links.
Expect trouble.
Ask your overseas penpal if you can crash on their couch until the reins of governmental power are pried from the bloody Hands of Evil.

Update:
The email seems to have gone through unread. That's good.
-BUT-
Someone at 'IP unknown/blocked' spent 17hrs and 48 min downloading what looks like my entire Blogger archive along with every file on my tiny website . The only people I know who have computers that run that slowly are my employers and the Federal Government. Neither is good.

Should I disappear, let me say that it's been great knowing you. I'll think of you while they waterboard me in Gitmo. Perhaps your memory will provide me with the strength I need to endure my hard-earned privations and punishments.

Monday, February 13, 2006

Ouchies, Worries, a Link and a Plea

Had to go to the doc -my right arm hurts like hell when I use the mouse at work. I don't have much trouble typing , and at home I can 'mouse' OK, but my workplace is not so ergonomic.
Doc said Tendonitis. Take a day or two off, wear a splint and make workplace more ergonomic.
(I can't have anti-inflammatory pills or shots because of some meds I'm taking) No permanent damage is suspected.

I was freaking ultra- worried, because in 2001 I has a serious but still-unexplained neuropathy in my left arm and almost lost it as a result (alright now) - today I live in constant fear of a reoccurence.
It looks like I have to keep my job so I can get insurance - I checked into self-insurance, but with my medical history the insurance would cost more than my salary. What a horrible trap.
My job makes me physically ill, but without it I cannot get medical care.
At least my immediate boss is a decent human. That helps.

Here's something I've been working on. It's lot more work than I thought it would be. Maybe I'll do more . I hope you like.

Speaking of you, who are you? Some of you I know, but there's a lot (more than 6) of you that visit here often and never write or comment.
Is it your job to monitor blogs for subversive activity?
If so, are you hiring?
I'd be really good at that job.

Friday, February 10, 2006

Great Gift Ideas

(Note: This post is from last year and the year before and probably next year too...)

( Note: This post is from last year- a lot has changed since then. Sadly, a lot hasn't.)

Christ, is it almost St. Valentine's day already? What a useless holiday. If you're in a happy relationship, you should be doing nice stuff for each other every fuckin' day without being forced to prove your affection by dropping Hallmark cards, chocolates and flowers on your lover's doorstep like a cat dragging home a dead mole to please the human.
Do any of you even know what Valentine's Day is about? Don't believe all that Catholic Claptrap about Romans and imprisoned martyrs and whatnot. As usual, count on the crackerjack Camelsback research staff for the real stories behind our false holidays.
Way back in ancient times, the evil American Sun Kings and Queens of Temperance declared that the rabble should sober up. This didn't sit well with the rabble, who quickly defected to more 'spirited' personality cults, led by charismatics like St. Bugs (Moran) and the legendary St. Alphonse (Capone). In the course of establishing the only religion honest enough to call itself Organized Crime, the two beatific bootleggers became fierce, bitter and violent rivals for the lucrative tithing of the parched and desperately sober masses.

Like any viable religion, Organized Crime soon sparked more than it's share of competition, internal conflict, warfare and corruption; and so, on Feb. 14, 1929, missionaries from the Capone Church, aided by Centurions on loan from the Chicago Police Legion , decided that the Bugs Boys needed some competition-stifling Reformation. They took a half-dozen or so Moran followers into a garage on Clark Street and nailed them to the wall with hundreds of .45 caliber Theses. We celebrate the gruesome deaths of these pioneering Mafia martyrs with roses and candlelight dinners. This makes poetic sense if your love life resembles mine; for your sake I hope that it doesn't.
If it does, I'm truly sorry. Maybe it'd help if I offered some priceless gift alternatives. By priceless, I mean worthless. Buy them for yourself, it's the only attention you'll get on the 14th. And no refunds.

THE CAMELSBACK SAINT VALENTINE'S DAY MASSACRE CATALOG FOR THE UNLOVED AND DEPRESSED:

EMOTIONAL TRAIN WRECK

oops

No lights. No tunnel. Just derailment, gravity and inertia. You probably thought that you'd never need to wear a parachute on a train. You thought wrong.

A real bargain for only 76 cents!












EXPRESSIONS OF UNREQUITED LOVE

vaw_broken_heart

This could be that letter you wish that you'd torn up when you had the chance. Maybe it's that necklace you knew that she'd love-the one you purchased the day before she told you she wasn't looking for a relationship. Perhaps it's three weeks of unreturned phone calls. It might be a horribly embarrassing love poem or song that fell into the wrong hands.

Two lousy bucks.This item knows no limits , so don't be such a cheap-ass.











A LIFETIME TOGETHER

Poverty
Well, you got what you wanted. Too bad it turned out to suck, but hey, there were some good times, weren't there? Weren't there? Live the same miserable day over and over for the rest of your pointless life while you brood about the way it could have been. Even your children will pity you.

If you have to ask, you can't afford it.













LONELY ALCOHOLIC MELANCHOLIA

womansmoking

He doesn't deserve you. Take another shot.

Buy yourself something nice. No one else will.















ENDLESS SEARCH FOR LOVE

Poverty---Food-for-thought

Remember how your friends used to tell you that there was someone for everyone , and someday, somebody special will see you for the irresistibly sweet, kind and golden soul that you are?These days, they don't call you very often since they all got married and had kids. If they did , you'd call them liars.

Maybe throwing your money away will make you feel better.













BUY NOW!! TIME'S RUNNING OUT!!

Thursday, February 09, 2006

Discontent , Illusion and Isolation

In a recent email a very old friend wondered why I sometimes sounded so down- based on what she's heard from me my life sounds pretty good. Why the discontent? She observed that this was a common American problem : "having it good", yet never being content or truly happy.
She indicated that she had achieved the life she wanted years ago, but was still feeling that something was missing or wrong or something. I hope it's nothing serious.
Until then, I'd had the impression that she was truly content these days. It made me glad to think that she was.

I thought she was happier than she is and she felt the same way about me. Funny, in a sad and very human way.

Last night I got a call from another friend who also has a "good life" on the surface but who is unhappy and scared in reality, mostly about a long-running problem. There are issues involved that go way beyond my ability to understand , much less offer advice on; no words, no hugs on long-distance calls. I felt powerless. Despite knowing most of the details, I was stumped and unable to say anything helpful or even very encouraging.
Useless me.
Helpless me.
No white horse in my stable, just a car that barely runs.
All I could suggest she find someone smarter and wiser than myself; someone that she could trust- and talk to them instead. Oh yeah, I reminded her that the situation was one that she created and if she had to change her life as a result, then that was something she had to accept and deal with it.

I felt bad after I said that, then I realized that there have been some times in my life when I really needed someone to take me aside and give me an ass-kicking of honesty far harsher than I could dish out.

Once upon a time I moved in with a Bad News Girl. After a few months she stole (and used) all my drugs, threw me out of her house and tried to sic her Wolf-Dog hybrid on me. (The mutt liked me and just sorta sat there and whined. She hated it when we fought)

I showed up at a pal's house and it turns out he'd been pretty much saving a couch for me, since it was widely known -to everyone but me -that BNG did this to all her boyfriends and I would be homeless inside six months- seven, tops.
Why didn't you warn me? I asked.
Would you have listened? he responded.
No. Probably not, but I wish someone had tried.

Nobody wants to believe that someone they care about is unhappy , unfulfilled or embarking on a very unwise or destructive personal endeavor, but the reality is that we do care for people who have those feelings and do those things.
We are those people.

I'm not a strong person, and I probably need more help than I'll ever be able to ask for, but I think that makes me normal, or at least average. I'm afraid of trying to help too- it's a tricky business, a fine line between advice and intervention. Bad meddling can be ruinous, but pretending that things are fine when they aren't can be deadly.

For example , I wish someone had stopped my drinking before I wound up in intensive care, but I don't know if anyone could have. I'd cut myself off from the world in ways that would have made it difficult for anyone to attempt to help. Maybe I needed that experience-perhaps nothing else would have worked. I'll never know.

I'll never know what do when someone I love is suffering in ways that I can't change. It's an angry, helpless feeling and it's inevitable in every lifetime, yours, mine , ours, theirs- and so much of it is hidden inside because we're afraid to ask someone to listen or we refuse to admit someone is hurting as bad as we really know they are. It hurts to feel the pain of others and it hurts not to.

So talk. Or listen. Or both. Be brave.

Sometimes that's all you need to do. In any case, it's the only way to start.

Wednesday, February 08, 2006

Call Me Infidel

jyllands

I can't help but think that if these cartoons hadn't been published, something else would have sparked the current riots instead. Thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands of religious lunatics going global apeshit over cartoons?

That's not why some Muslims are burning buildings and shooting people- they're doing it because they're fundamentalist nutjobs and that's what fundy-insane nutjobs do. They burn stuff and kill people for whatever reason suits them at the time. They shouldn't. It's illogical.

Get this:
-God prohibits pictures of the Prophet. Therefore, any images of him are false. So, if they aren't pictures of Muhammed -remember that they can't be , because God forbids such things- therefore they must be pictures of some other guy. So why riot?
Why not? is more like it. Have you even glanced at Middle-eastern politics in the last few years? For some reason, things are tense at the moment. You'd think they'd appreciate all the freedom we've tried to spread on them , but nooo... Ingrates.

Anyway, this time it's the Danes fault. Demark- hotbed of international controversy. They must be stopped. The last time the Vikings got wiggy they wound up creating Dublin, with mixed results. They almost invaded America before it even existed. They are not to be trusted.

Tomorrow, boycott Danishes. Eat an English Muffin with American Cheese and Smithfield Ham instead. Laugh as you eat the flesh of swine, but do not eat Canadian bacon. It'll turn you French and make you easy prey for terrorists.

Tuesday, February 07, 2006

Paging Dr. Strangelove

Forget the bad advice in the last post. To inflict insomnia simply read this.
Gosh. What a great idea!
Where will the money for all those sorely-needed nuclear weapons come from?
Really?
I never would have guessed.

Sleep is for the Weak

Over the years I've mastered quite a few methods of keeping myself awake for pointlessly or even harmfully lengthy periods of time. The really good ones don't even involve any particular chemical stimulants- although you might as well put on some coffee, because it's going to be one of those nights...

First, try to alter the concrete by using semantics. For example , instead of wrestling with "insomnia", stare vacantly into the TV and congratulate yourself for your "vigilance."
Stay up until the wee hours creating and deleting Word documents or playing video games. Refer to this as "productivity."

If this verbal wool-over-the-eyes doesn't keep you from counting sheep, try more desperate measures:

1) LISTING: Make lists , mental or otherwise, of things you can't change but can help illustrate your failings . My personal favorite is internally de-constructing the final moments of every relationship I've ever had - and shifting the blame for the break-up to myself. I can remember the name of every woman I've ever been with, which isn't a bad thing. Being able to list them in reverse alphabetical order- that's a bad thing.
Feel free to use other subjects for your own listing- it needn't be personal. History is full of interesting stuff you can't do anything about. Start with the classics: re-read Plato. Urge Socrates not to drink the hemlock. Maybe it'll end differently this time. Admit to yourself that if you were in his place you'd say "screw this" and choose exile over death.
Toss and turn.
Pick five people that you admire and who were assassinated. List them in chronological order or list them by severity of execution. On my lists Rasputin places at #2 and #1 respectively, though I don't exactly admire him- it's more like awe. You may take a different view of history. I hope that you do.
If you still feel sleepy, pick five more victims and make a list of reasons you weren't there to save them. Would you take bullet for John Lennon? For JFK? MLK? Cesear? For Jesus?
Why or why not?
I wouldn't. Because I'm afraid of dying. (duh.)
Facing this moral dilemma should be enough to keep you awake until at least dawn.

2) PESTER: If you are married or living with someone you might as well make them miserable. If they want sex, withhold it. If they don't want sex, demand it, then change your mind. Sulk.
Listen to music using headphones, but do not place the headphones on your head. Place them on the nightstand next to your partner's head. When the tinny squawking wakes them, tell them that they snore. Argue. Resist the temptation to have fight-sex , as it will make you sleepy
afterward.

If you have kids, put on a scary mask, coat yourself with fake blood and wake them up. Scream.
Tell them it's only a dream.
Repeat as soon as they fall asleep.

3) REALITY BREAK: This is only for advanced non-sleepers!

After 48-72 hours of sleep deprivation your mind will start playing serious tricks on you. Perhaps you will hallucinate or hear voices. If this is normal for you, it may intensify; if it is not, then you have successfully gained insight into the schizophrenic's world. Temporary psychosis is the guitar solo of mental illness. If it's short and well-played, it can be awesome. If it's poorly executed or overly long it tends to suck.
With luck , you'll enter a nearly hypnotic fugue state , create a masterpiece of art and pass out in a soft , safe place. When you wake, you will marvel at your creation. The rest of your life will be spent in a futile attempt to recreate that one transcendental moment, leaving you with a haunting, hollow feeling that is perfectly suited for keeping you awake at night.


If you need help, give me a call. I'll be up.

Saturday, February 04, 2006

97.3 = #1!

Friday night was WRIR's 1st Birthday Party. Over 700 local listeners showed up and turned our event into a huge success!
We have reason to celebrate: The 2005 FCC stats are in, and 97.3 FM is the #1 secular LPFM in the US of A! After only 1 year of being on-air!
Being part of the station has been central in my struggle to put myself back together - at times it seems as if it's the only good thing in my life- so the whole event had a very special feel for me. Happiness and human warmth- two things I've had very little of over the last few years.

A slideshow of the bash by the legendary Charles Williams. Check him out. You'll be glad you did.

Note the deer-in-headlights look on my face as I display my Volunteer of the Year Award! That was a true surprise. My first thought was "I don't deserve this" , but looking back at the last year I must admit I've done pretty good for our station.

That's what it is. It's our station. We built it from nothing, staffed it with volunteers- many with no radio background at all- and despite everything being stacked against us , we made it happen.

During today's show we got a phone call from a web-listener in Seattle. His comment?

"The band playing in your studio sounds amazing! Rock on!"

We will.

Thursday, February 02, 2006

Anger and Addiction

Unless you've been there, it's impossible to fully understand the nature of alcoholism or drug-addiction. You can watch all the hand-wringing daytime talk shows; read all the latest recovery and self-help best-sellers; rent Clean & Sober a million times- all that's gonna do is fill your head with nonsensical jargon and embellished, if not wholly fabricated, stories about getting wasted and generally fucking up.
Truth is, there are damn few rules that apply across the board to every addict. Some folks get through life just fine for years and years before things catch up to them , others can't keep their life together no matter how clean or how sober they get. Some people die the very first time they drive drunk or shoot smack. Twelve-Step programs save some addicts, others (I am in this group) cannot attend a 'meeting' without immediately falling off whatever wagon they are trying to ride.
When it's time to quit , you quit any way you can. If that sounds simplistic, that's because it is simple. Not easy -not at all- but simple, yes.
Of course, like most things, it's easy to make it as complicated as you'd like it to be: there are plenty of "professionals" who will gladly let you pay them just to listen to you talk about your childhood; help you dredge up memories both real and imagined; create tactical assault plans on your bad behavior and often just flat-out give you bad advice. To be fair, what's good advice to one person may be a recipe for disaster for another. If it works, it works. If it doesn't, you'll probably die, but you might not.
Sometimes, it only takes a few simple words to quit- hopefully forever. For me , those words were: " You had a major seizure during your surgery and we thought we'd lost you." (Spoken by my surgeon)
If you've ever had a similar experience, you know exactly how such a thing changes you.
If you haven't, I lack the words to accurately describe it.
Consider yourself lucky if you don't understand what I mean.

When I hear about some buttwiper who made millions of dollars by making Oprah Winfrey cry; by claiming to have been some sort of uber-addict who pulled himself up by his sordid, fictional bootstraps - it really pisses me off.
I wonder how real war veterans feel when they encounter some asshole who wasn't there trying to pass himself off as a 'Nam or Gulf vet- I wonder if it's the same anger I feel at Puddinghead's Million Little Pieces?
I've never been to war, so I can never claim to know what that's like.
If you've never been an addict you can try to feel my pain ,but don't you dare usurp it.

Don't treat me differently. If you want to have a beer or a pill or whatever- go ahead. Your enjoyment of a substance isn't going to send me flying headlong into the first bar I find. In fact, I think a little bit of booze is actually good for most people- just not me. If you get too messed-up, I'll be glad to drive you home. I won't lecture you about it unless you puke in my car or something. Lecturing hung-over people is a loser's game anyway. To the subject it just sounds like "blah, blah (oh, my god, my head is exploding...) blah, blah etc". Many such words have been wasted on myself. I won't inflict them on you.

Here's another thing that pisses me off: I've heard from a large number of Twelve-Steppers that I can't consider myself a recovering alcoholic because I still smoke pot. They usually have a cigarette in the hand that they aren't pointing at me with while they explain this. If I point out how stupid they sound , they just shake their heads and mumble something about denial. "It's your life", they say, shrugging.

Damn Skippy it's my life.

I have recently( December) had all my innards thoroughly inspected- my doc was amazed when I told him I'd been smoking dope daily for twenty-five years- my lungs look like a non-smoker's to him and my blood pressure is perfect. (It was high when I was drinking)
Oddly, I find myself smoking less and less as time passes. I imagine I'll wake up one day and realize , "gosh, I've not smoked a bong for five years."

Cocaine was like that for me. In the eighties I was doing a half-ounce or more a week of coke -this went on for years. Eventually it ended. I don't even remember quitting, but about a year ago a friend offered me some and I realized that it had been years since I'd even seen blow. I did a couple lines in the bathroom of a bar. Nothing happened. Cocaine is an evil drug, but it's boring as shit after a while-unless you die from it. I've lost more than a few friends to it, so don't think I take the subject lightly, but please! it's not glamorous or sexy- it's not even very interesting.

Coffee is better. I don't need to run a coffeeshop to support my coffee habit either.

One final point: 12-Steppers are prone to admitting that their lives had become unmanageable while they were using. It's quite the opposite for me. My drinking life was incredibly easy to manage: I'd find a shit job that I could do wasted, go to work, come home and get drunk. Sometimes I'd go out and get drunker. Since that's pretty much all I did , I didn't have much difficulty managing to do it.
Life's a lot more complicated and challenging now. It's a lot more interesting in every way- the good can be really good, the bad sometimes is waaaay bad, but most of it's in-between the extremes.
I imagine it's like that for you too, even if you've never smoked or drank.

Don't treat me differently. Let me live differently instead.