A blog. No plan. Utter chaos.

This is the end... My only friend... The End.

2006-06-16T21:27:00.000-04:00

And out of the chaos
There arose a singularity
A dense, crushing soullessness
An ebony speck on existence

The chaos shuddered before its might
Before its relentlessness
Before its Order
The chaos streamed into the irresistable gravity

And leading the way
Paving the road before this invisible,
Terrible monument to destruction
The lawnmower man...

Congratulations, Mr. Ratner... You Suck.

2006-05-26T15:35:00.000-04:00

Imagine you find yourself in charge of the development and production of the third in a trilogy of commercially succesful niche movies. There is an established audience and story line so all you have to do is study those films that came before you and the path to greatness is cleared to you. You do have some obstacles to overcome, such as the reputation of the previous director and the expectations of that fan base, but unlike Star Wars, you are not trying to please 30 year fans who have sugar coated the originals. Also, the previous director took his quality writers to his other film so you will have to find some writers who can bring continuity to the characters, story line, and film style. Not an easy task, but not impossible with the backing of a studio prepared to ride this franchise into a fine summer payday.

The only true albatross around your neck is the attractive, but overrated actress in your cast, who does not like her role or the fact that role could be axed and only her fans would notice.

So what do you do?

Deliver the film that the fans expect with a bit of yourself interlaced within it?

No.

You take a film that most any reasonable fan could have written with great success and drive it completely into the ground. You turn witty one liners into a slapstick series of overcooked gags. You turn several of the most anticipated casting choices into brief cameos, under used characters, and gimicks. You are willing to kill off characters in a nod to surprise, but manage to wring anything resembling interest, emotion, or excitement out of the moments. You drag out the drama and shortchange the audience on the action.

Your name is Brett Ratner.

Wolverine cries 3 times in the film. Thank you. I hoped he had a soft side. He is bad-ass, hard core, and apparently a massive cry-baby.

Kelsey Grammar does a decent job as Beast, but his scenes are trivialized and his interaction is far to pointless.

Juggernaut is underused and is defeated by a girl who looks 12 years old. Not exactly "unstoppable."

Colossus is screwed yet again and his big moment is his opportunity to "throw" Wolverine. He should not be a member of the X-Men. He should be a member of the Phillies bullpen.

The love triangle between Iceman, Kittie Pride, and Rogue is weak and under developed. I hate "love triangles" and I thought it needed to be bigger. Rogue gives up her powers in what amounted to a spur of the moment snit over a hug.

The new characters were introduced with more of a "ta-da!" than with any sort of built up story. It was a series of winks to the comic following audience. It felt like the end of a play or musical, where the cast runs out on stage to take their bows.

So with what are we the fans left? Charles Xavier, Jean Gray/Phoenix, and Cyclops received ignomious ends. Magneto is hinting at a return of his powers. Rogue and Mystique are human. Wolverine is whiney. And a trilogy that could have ranked among the best is left sorely wounded.

Perhaps we can all agree to pretend it never happened. Brian Singer can return to do X-Men IIIa and right this injustice and Brett Ratner can go hide in a crack den in LA and help write Rush Hour III: The Last Stand.

So How Do I Like My Christmas Toys...

2006-05-11T10:55:00.000-04:00

It has been almost two weeks since the NFL Draft and there has been a request for my opinion on how my Eagles did in the draft. I would love to say that I am riveted by our selections, but they were not big name guys at exciting positions. Our first two selection were a defensive tackle and an offensive tackle.

Hmmm. I suppose the best way to express my feelings is to steal a line from the bizarrely addictive movie, "10 Things I Hate About You."

I am whelmed.

With the 14th pick of the 2006 NFL Draft, the Eagles select Broderick Bunkley, Defensive Tackle, Florida State University. Nice name. He is the #2 rated D-lineman in the draft. He is a physical beast. He played very well for a university I hate, but he was so-so in the Penn State-Florida State BCS game last year. I have high hopes for an improved pass rush and some solid run defense. We almost traded up to get this guy, but he fell into our laps. Is that good draft management or luck on the part of the Eagles front office? My Grade: A

The Eagles targeted several players to select with that 1st round pick, but they focused on two. Bunkley and offensive tackle Winston Justice from USC. Justice has a bit of a maturity problem, with a "gun" offense using a toy pistol in what was described as a prank on a friend. It was not a hold-up or a shake down, but perhaps it is a really stupid idea to pull a gun, toy or not, on someone who, OOOOOPS, turns out not to be your buddy, but some unsuspecting passerby. He looks very talented on film and he was the #2 rated OT on the board. Justice was slotted by the "experts" to go anywhere from 8th to 18th. He fell all the way into the second round. My Grade: B for the pick, and A+ for the potential value.

Chris Gocong. Who? You know, Chris Gocong. Oh.

Who?

Gocong played at Div I-AA Cal Poly as a defensive end and led the NCAA in sacks. The Eagles are projecting him at left outside linebacker, in which case, he will need to learn pass coverage. He is probably my favorite pick in the draft since he has the potential to be dynamic, create matchup problems, and really make plays. That is prospect speak for, "I think he will be all over the field and could turn into a very exciting player." That is the kind of player I have waited for the Eagles to draft. Besides, when the Eagles have dipped into I-AA, they have come out with players like Brian Westbrook from Villanova. Not to shabby. My Grade: A

Max Jean-Gilles was an early (as in January) projection in the first round by the Donut Shoppe's favorite head, Mel Kiper. He slipped some in most projections down to the second round. The Eagles moved around and snagged him in the fourth round. More good value. Despite the value and the potential run blocking Jean-Gilles could provide, this is not my favorite pick. I was rooting for Maurice Stovall, the wide receiver from Notre Dame. J-G also has injury issues. The end result of this pick is a great value for a 4th round pick and if he lives up to his original stature, great for us, if he bombs, we lost a 4th rounder. A good pick whether I like him or not. My Grade: B+

Jason Avant looks like a good possession receiver without the exceptional receiver size. He could be a blazing success and a fine #2 receiver or nothing. That is what you get with 4th round picks. He had some hype and could have gone higher in the draft, but he has potential and will clearly be a wait and see guy. My Grade: B

Jeremy Bloom. Olympic skier. Model. Wide receiver. Punt and kick returner. Could be an amazing pick there in the 5th round. I love his explosiveness and his speed. One thing I look for in a punt returner is that first step after he catches the ball. Is he looking or is he moving. Jeremy Bloom is moving. He looks as good returning punts as J.R. Reed did prior to his bizarre injury. The only downside to this. Bloom looks good on tape that is 2-3 years old. He has not played in a while and it may take some time to get into the groove. My Grade: A+

Omar Gaither and LaJuan Ramsey. 5th and 6th round picks respectively. What can I say? They play football. I do not know anything about them. I suspect they have 10 fingers and 10 toes. I am guessing two eyes or they may not pass the physical. My Grade: Orange

So there it is folks. My opinion of the Eagles draft. I liked it. It was not "WOW! HOLY HELL, WE GOT SO AND SO..." But we did pretty well and were pretty lucky and like they say...

It is better to be lucky than good.

Draft Sweet Draft...

2006-04-25T16:17:00.000-04:00

It is Christmas in April for the Vike and I.

The Vike not very Viking-like at all really, but this red-headed Pole and I will be firmly placed infront of the TV eating cheese products and chips for an ungodly amount of time on Saturday, as we watch men 4-8 years younger than us become instant millionaires.

We will discuss the upsides, throwing motions, and whether a lineman has a wide enough butt to stop the run. We will ridicule the "highlights" of certain players that somehow show him getting plastered on 4 straight plays. We will cheer when our team follows our brilliant strategy and demand the heads of the front office when they stray from our vision.

I know the Vike is looking forward to his Minnesota Vikings (hence, the Vike) drafting a linebacker in the first round, but what if Jay Cutler falls to them at 17?

I will be screaming bloody murder if the Eagles take Winston Justice from USC. I demand a linebacker who can actually tackle people. Unless one of the mighty somehow falls to us at 14.

So here, in all its glory is THE... DEFINITIVE... MOCK DRAFT...

it is my first time... be gentle

1. Texans Bush
2. Saints Ferguson
3. Titans Leinart
4. Jets Williams
5. Favres Hawk
6. 49ers Davis
7. Raiders Young (His career dies in Oakland)
8. Bills Justice
9. Lions Huff
10. Cardinals Cutler
11. Rams Greenway
12. Browns Ngata
13. Ravens Wimbley
14. Eagles Bunkley
15. Broncos D. Williams
16. Dolpins Holmes
17. Vikings Sims
18. Cowboys McNeill
19. Chargers Jackson
20. Chiefs J. Williams
21. Patriots Carpenter
22. 49ers Joseph
23. Buccaneers Moss
24. Bengals Hill
25. Giants Whitner
26. Bears Youboty
27. Panthers White
28. Jaguars Mangold
29. Jets Maroney
30. Colts Allen
31. Seahawks Lawson
32. Steelers Ryans

V for Vendetta or why we should march right down to DC and blow up the White House and Congress.

2006-03-23T11:01:00.000-05:00

As many of you know, I am a geek, but I am not really a comic book geek.

I like superheroes (bite me DC and Marvel, if you think I am paying royalties for the word superhero), but I never got into the whole comic book scene. I tried, but 1 page of drawing for 17 pages of advertising is not my style, even as a 10 year old. But do not get me wrong, Superman, Batman, and Spiderman were staples for me except the first and last were animated characters (and Christopher Reeve) and the middle was Adam West which is essentially the same thing.

Why the boring insight on my pre-adolesence?

I never read V for Vendetta. I had no real preconceived notions of the movie other than the fact that Natalie Portman is very attractive, burgeoning on hot, Hugo Weaving is a great actor, and I think the Wachowski Bros. try to make their movies interesting.

When I left the movie, I wanted to go blow up Congress. Ok, I think Congress should be blown up as a matter of principle, but V for Vendetta truly appealed to me on several levels. As a guy going to a comic-based actions movie with plot it was really, really good. It was not all action, but the plot moved well and the story points were well presented. The action was exciting and visually interesting. The dialogue was both thoughtful and dramatic and V's introductory speech was just shy of laugh out loud funny.

But the big selling point for me was the socio-political message the movie was presenting. I do not claim to know the details of the Gunpowder Treason. I knew the basics before the movie, Guy Fawkes, Parliament, etc..., but I can not swear that I would have agreed with Fawkes the person or his ideals. His message, however, I agree with wholeheartedly.

That does not mean that I specifically advocate the unplanned demolition of government buildings, but the fact that the people have resigned themselves to the role of child to the government's parental figure. We ask the government to protect us from the words drugs, guns, terrorists, violence, hate, disease, poverty, oppression, racism, sexism, pornography, and whatever scary thing that led the news last night.

That is the behavior of children. "Mommy, don't let the bad man get me." "Daddy, Billy was mean to me on the playground today. Make him stop." "Hey, Government. I want you to make me believe I live in a Utopia. Protect me from racists. Protect me fom violence. Make the bad men stop."

The government, on the other hand and depending on your point of view, is either the overprotective parent or plays that role to advance the corrupt agendas of those that dwell within it. They assist in manufacturing the level of fear and then make their bold moves in the "how" of the solution.

If you want the racists/sexists to go away, they establish laws and quotas. Rather than the proper solution of allowing society to adjust to its own changing make up. We ask them to force us to learn to play well together. All that does is increase the animosity between groups. Forcing a racist of any color to face to work with the objects of his hate will only increase the anger.

You want to stop violence, they make the legal process surrounding firearms rather than punish the violent offenders. The rich and famous are found carrying unlicensed firearms and we trash them in the media for a day, followed by a small fine and some community service. I do subscribe to the NRA mantra that we are making it harder for people who already follow the law to get a gun. Those who would shoot a man for his wallet are not concerned with whether their gun is licensed. More the point, they prefer it not be licensed. In our demand for protection they set laws to guarantee jailtime until it is our friend or relative facing that time and then we demand leniency and social understanding of a person who made a mistake.

Now we constantly hear the rhetoric of terrorism after decades of thumbing our noses at the Middle East and other known regions of high terrorist sympathy. We dared the terrorists to strike our soil. Once they did, people scrambled to toss their civil rights and freedoms into the fire so that Father Government would protect us from the evil terrorists. Those outsiders. Those ragheads. Where was our concern for racism? Where was our concern for tolerance? Now we have a president (embarassment) who stands before us, calling us liberators and damning the people, who whether you agree with them or not, feel they are defending their homeland from invaders. Are they being manipulated just as we are?

It has spun out of control.

So how does this relate to a movie about a comic book character?

It can be summed up in a simple line from the movie.

It is not the people who should be afraid of their government, but the government that should be afraid of its people.

Our government does not fear us. The vast majority of people want the soldiers brought home. Yet they stay in Iraq. The government tells us that we should give up our rights so it can protect us from outside forces. Yet it sells our ports to outside companies. Everytime a real concern arises in the government, they push some less relevant hot-button issue to distract the masses. Abortion. Immigration. Racism. Or some other socially dividing issue so that we can fight amongst ourselves at the kiddie table, while the parents discuss the important topics.

What was the message of V for Vendetta? That we would all be very sexy in Guy Fawkes masks and large knives?

No.

Perhaps it was that Natalie is still pretty good looking with her head shaved?

No. But that is a good point.

It is the fact that until "We the people" get our acts together and realize that we hold the key to every social issue that faces us and that we do not need the government to "help" us decide the right stance on these issues, the individuals in power will continue to do as they please to help their chief supporters, both domestic and abroad, and leave us to pay their bills. It is very easy to be rich, when you are not paying your own way. We squabble over the small picture, while the big picture is moving on.

The message of the picture was unity. If we would put aside our personal issues and focus on the government's misdeeds, it would crumble before the sheer force of the masses. It may not be the sexy, explosive finale of V for Vendetta, but the country "of the people, by they people, and for the people" will not perish from the earth.

Busted Down By Family...

2006-03-20T09:03:00.000-05:00

"You have not updated in so long, I had to drop you into a lower category."

Excuse me?

Five minutes earlier, I found out I had readers... albeit poached readers.

Are poached readers like poached eggs? I love poached eggs. Poached is a great word... but that is someone else's skit.

Back to my point, I have been dropped a level on a very popular website. The wife's very popular website. MY WIFE'S WEBSITE. What happened to love, honor, cherish, feed, conjugal visits, and not dropping the husband's website on your link list?

I feel so used. Clearly it was my drawing power that caused the huge groundswell of support for her fledgling site. My shear animal magnetism bringing people in to the fold in droves. But now...

Et tu, Brute...?

So I went several months without updating. Who was I letting down?

But now I am told I have readers...

THE PRESSURE.

Ummm...

huh...

yeah...

[insert your own witty banter here]

OK! So my dear nonexist... oh,... my dear EXISTING reader(s?) I will make a more concerted effort to release my nuggets of wisdom, my pearls of genius, my oysters of...

Anyway, I will try to be more diligent in my work.

Besides, I need something to do in class anyway...

Utter chaos has returned...

Lock your doors. Bar your windows. Hide your red meat. The man has returned.

By the way, to those who may have sent me a black and white hat, representing a certain World Championship baseball team that had not won in 88 years, for Christmas, a VERY VERY belated thank you. It is awesome and the wife can tell you how frequently I have worn it.

Coming soon....

V for Vendetta or why we should march right down to DC and blow up the White House and Congress.

[Please forgive me for my future lack of posting after I am incarcerated without legal representation by the Secret Service for that last line]

Superman Returns. So does Kong.

2006-01-11T10:24:00.000-05:00

I can not wait for this movie to come out. King Kong was great but I was not necessarily a great fan of the original. Superman has the potential to have me babbling like an idiot. I loved Christopher Reeve as Superman. These movies were right in my wheelhouse and my childhood was all about Superman and Starwars. It will be embarrassing though when The Great Short One has to bail me out of jail after I am arrested for running through our neighborhood with a red towel and my underroos.

No one wants to see that, but tough. KNEEL BEFORE ZOD!

Back to a movie that has actually hit the theaters, King Kong was a great adventure movie that will unfortunately suffer from a perception of not being as good as LOTR. As far as I am concerned, on the geek scale, LOTR only comes second to Starwars and that is because Starwars can not be overcome. But King Kong deserves some credit for being a great adventure film that is well acted, well shot, and the effects are incredible. I really liked it and while I give it a 9 out of 10, it is not in the same super-elite class because I do not have the nostalgic feeling for it.

OK. I wrote. More. Later.

I do not hate Nickelback. Why do you?

2005-11-08T11:30:00.000-05:00

What has Nickelback done to you? They write songs that have catchy lyrics and a catchy hook. It is entertaining. Let them be. If you do not like them, then say so and drop it. Stop reviewing every album and suffering some schizophrenic need to BUY THE ALBUM and then hate yourself for it.

I like Nickelback. They write a consistent album that I can listen to while I am working or driving.

I am very sorry they are not whiney and depressing like Coldplay or new wave pseudo-punk wannabes like the White Stripes. I am sure once they have given up on anything resembling music, they will follow in those footsteps.

Thank you and good day.

That's right people. I am back.

Tagged by some strange chick. When I was single this never would happen.

2005-09-28T23:21:00.000-04:00

Five things I plan to do before I die.
- See La Sagrada Familia
- Learn Tagalog
- Learn Quantum Physics
- Voice-over for a cartoon
- Bring the US Government to its knees and replace it with government that is actually of the people and by the people, or myself as national dictator for life. With Darth Vader's Imperial March as the new presidential theme. Bitches!!! Bow Down!!! I will run this country right. No damn hurricane would ever touch my country's shores.

Five things I can do.
- Drive. You would be suprised the number of people who think they can, but cannot.
- Find my way around Madrid when completely lost.
- hold a grudge far better than Amy ever could.
- Debate religion, politics, and physics for all eternity without getting bored.
- Endlessly entertain a short Filipino girl and keep her warm on cold nights.

Five things I cannot do.
- sub-4 minute mile
- mingle at a party
- put up with stupid people, YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHO YOU ARE.
- keep myself organized.
- leave for work without kissing a sleeping my resident Filipino retard goodbye.

Five things that attract me to the opposite sex.
- eyes, eyes that can melt knees
- intelligence, the ability to hold a discussion
- cute butt
- the ability to be stupid and have fun without being self-concious
- a girl who likes to be held as often as possible

Five things I say most often
- Jesus Christ in a dump truck.
- anyway or whatever
- hindi pinaka intelihenteng kuneho
- G's up, Ho's down.
- bitch betta have my money

Five celebrity crushes (only five? man....)(not man... WOMAN)
- Selma Hayek
- Charlize Theron
- Eva Longoria (Oh yeah, M will love this one)
- Jessica Alba (No more roles that do not involve lycra or chaps)
- Zhang Ziyi

Five people I want to do this next
- Quentin Tarantino
- Maynard James Keenan (lead singer for Tool)
- Donovan McNabb
- Stephen Hawking
- My childhood teddybear, Christopher

OK. So It Has Been A While.

2005-08-01T09:08:00.000-04:00

My bad. I went out and got a job.

Besides right now I am dealing with the new job, wishing my DE had not been shot, and that my WR would shut up and suffer through his 3+ mil salary.

In the words of the Donut Shoppe's favorite U.S. General, "I shall return."

Batman Begins. Let Batman End.

2005-06-18T21:43:00.000-04:00

Don't do it.

Christian Bale. Call in sick.

Christopher Nolan. How about a nice period piece? Like another droll Jane Austen novel.

Michael Caine and Morgan Freeman. How about a buddy comedy?

Cillian Murphy. Nice recovery from the mind-numbing disaster known as 28 Days Later. How about Day 29?

Katie Holmes. Don't you have some fake Tom-loving to do. Some shying away from another poorly staged kiss.

Do I hate Batman that much? Was Batman Begins that bad?

No. Quite the contrary.

I was a huge fan of the Adam West Batman as a child. Batman is not my favorite (Superman, Wolverine, or the Hulk), but I like Batman.

The film. It was very, very good. Nearly great. Ownable. It brought a nice semi-realistic feel to Batman. Kind of a mix between Unbreakable (I loved it) and the standard Batman mythos.

I solid, fresh story with good acting and nice special effects, and a seriously kick ass car.

So what am I bitching about.

The possibility, however remote, of a sequel. The final sequence of the film was either a brilliant teaser into the rest of the Batman story or an open door to a sequel. Please let it be the former. Don't get me wrong. I would love to see a well crafted, equally loved sequel with an interesting take the Bad Guys of the city of Gotham. But the odds of it happening are so slim, that I would rather leave Batman at his beginning, than trudge through some poor pulp version of his prime.

I am not a tremendous Tim Burton fan, but he did do a good job providing a more comic-based vision of Batman and the Joker. Jack Nicholson was a great Joker, but his style would not fit with the style of this telling of Batman. The same goes for Danny Devito's Penguin.

No, there should not be a sequel. This is one of those times that the audience must be left wanting more, not wondering why they decided to drag Batman out for another flogging.

Thank you cast and crew of Batman Begins for a great movie. The kind of movie that does justice to a superhero. The kind of movie that has the chance to stand the test of time.

But please. Please. P L E A S E.

Let me go on wanting more. Put all of that sequel effort into your next film. Whatever it may be.

Hey I know. Why don't we all try caring a little more about X-Men, so that X3 does not suck.

Now that is a sequel worth doing.

Ha Ha. Oh, I Made Myself Sad.

2005-06-10T12:05:00.000-04:00

Ok. I am behind the power curve here, but something like this cannot go without comment.

This is another blog by request.

I have to say that because I loathe the topic.

Paris Hilton.

That is right folks. The richest white trash in America.

Don't you just want to be a fly on the wall when her inevitable Vicodin, barbituates, and vodka collapse occurs.

I know I do.

But my disdain for Paris is not the point of this entry.

I am celebrating her pending marriage to Paris Latsis.

Congratulations. Only Paris Hilton could be so shallow as to marry someone with the same name as her.

I can see it now.

The love letters written from Paris to Paris. And sometimes from Paris to her husband.

Let's spice this up. Can we get some compromising photos of Mr. Latsis and Nicole Richie. That would be cool. Or let's take away the Hilton fortune, since the entire Hilton family have revealed themselves to be media whores, and create one last season of the Simple Life. Paris, Paris, and Mom Hilton living in a trailer in Arkansas, with an income of $30k per year.

No perks. Just three people prepared to eat each other for a Coach handbag.

This is must see TV. As long as someone actually get eaten.

Poor Mr. Latsis.

It would probably be him.

We Like to Party. We Like to Party 'Til 9:00 at Night, And Then We Start All Over.

2005-05-20T23:07:00.000-04:00

I am one competitive person.

Picky-Me will tell you the same.

I try not to be an ass about it, but whenever I participate in any activity where there is a winner, I try to win. I always hated it in high school when there were people who were too cool to take a game seriously. Having fun is one thing, being a slacker is different.

But I digress.

Although I am competitive, I hate the one-upsmanship that dominates our society. Every commercial and advertisement reinforces this ridiculous attitude that you can never admit someone else won. Most current athletes demonstrate that if you do lose, blame it on someone else.

But the one-upsmanship I am writing about today has nothing to do with sports. It has to do with regular everyday life. It is a disease that infiltrates work and home. Religion and science. Politics and society.

One example I think has reached the point of humorous absurdity can be found in the ever socially concious, yet always socially reflective rap scene. Back in the early '90s the common line was that the party kept going until 2 or 3 'in da mornin'.' Then Snoop came along. Snoop had to push it out until 6 am. More recently I heard 8 in the morning.

Spare me guys.

I don't give a damn how late you party. The cars get more and more extravagant.

I have 20" rims.

Oh, yeah. My ride has 22" rims.

Well, my other ride has 26" rims.

My best ride has 200" rims, yet it is so low i have to dig earthworms out of the radiator.

This is just stupid. Everyone has to have the whatever is the most expensive liquor at their party.

But please do not make the mistake of thinking I look at this as a race issue.

Rappers are easy because they are writing songs that people think are so great as odes to excessiveness.

Extreme athletes. You jumped 100 ft. on a Razor scooter. I jumped 300 ft. with two Micro-machines strapped to my feet.

Religious nuts. I love my god so much I don't have sex. Nice. But I love my god so much I cut off my own genitals and the genitals of every person I meet. It is a cleansing thing. Speaking of which, come a little closer and close your eyes. I have a suprise for you.

Even the supposed smart people can not stop themselves from falling victim to this phenomenon. I constantly run into groups of geeks comparing who is the geekiest. I love Star Wars. I have realistically seen these 6 films a total of about 100 times. Over nearly 30 years.

That works out to about one trip through the series per year. Yet I constantly see geeks fighting over who has seen them more, and it begins to stretch into the thousands.

THOUSANDS. ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME.

Linux and Microsoft are another group of popular topics. My linux is better than yours. Gentoo is for the REAL geeks. Debian is for TRUE geeks. RedHat/Fedora. Mandrake. Whatever.

NO ONE CARES.

I use Microsoft because my company runs it. I use it to pay the bills. Yet I run into zealots who tell me I should spend all of my time trying to get my company to switch to open source. Take a pill people.

The point of this little rant is that you do not have to be a better zealot. You have to the best that you can be an then be satisfied with who you are. Your ranting and raving of how you are harder, richer, more pimped out, smarter, geekier, more of a fan, a better Christian/Muslim/Hindu/Branch Davidian, or whatever prove nothing more than one simple and unmitigated fact.

You.

are.

a.

JACKASS.

But if it makes you feel better you are the hardest partying, geekiest jackass you can be.

Congrats.

Geeeeeeeeek. It is pronounced GEEK.

2005-05-19T03:02:00.000-04:00

So I had my lofty and high-brow offering to the blog gods all prepared when a funny thing happened...

I turned 5 years old.

How, you ask?

I just got home from my midnight viewing of Star Wars, Episode III.

Screw the Ewok haters and Jar-Jar bashers.

I LOVE STAR WARS.

Yes, it is simple.

Yes, the acting can sometimes be amateurish.

Yes, the script can sometimes be predictable.

I don't freaking care. I love Star Wars.

When John Williams strikes up the band and STAR WARS hits the screen, I am not my adult self. I am 5 years old and I will believe anything.

Explosions in the vacuum of space. HELL YES THERE IS A BOOM.

Don't bring your physics in here. This is Star Wars.

Fighting outside on a volcanic, lava-splashing planet, without dying immediately.

OF COURSE. I don't care what the flashpoint of flesh is.

It was a great movie. Just like the rest. Not a great film, but a great movie.

Two words. DARTH. VADER.

One more word. YODA.

Picky Me and I are going to see the movie again in about 15 hours with my brother, pseudo-sister, and pseudo-bro-in-law, and then again this weekend.

Oh yeah. Give me lightsabers or give me death.

This movie was great. Everything it was supposed to be.

Loose ends tightened. Winks and nods made.

Characters glimpsed. Hi Chewie! Hi Grand Moff Tarkin.

The Death Star looked so cute with its skeleton frame.

A great fight between Anakin and Obi-Wan.

Even an explanation of Obi-Wan's tactics in Episode 4 (Star Wars, A New Hope).

Strike me down, and I shall become more powerful than you can imagine.

There is no disappointment on this end of the keyboard.

Although.

Once this weekend is over, I will be sad.

Why you ask?

Almost all of my "Trilogies" will be complete. Christmas Day will have come and gone.

The Lord of the Rings. Finished.

Star Wars. Complete.

No more anticipation.

There is some hope.

A New Hope.

The Chronicles of Narnia. The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe.

Ah childhood. I shall be a child forever.

Here is to the symbol of my childhood. Star Wars.

Thank you.

And may the Force be with you.

Shakespeare. Billy Shakespeare.

2005-05-19T03:01:00.000-04:00

The man wrote some good plays but for his part, Shakespeare pisses me off.

How many of his plays revolve around or deeply involve the beautiful maiden who slips on a fake mustache and presto, she is a man.

I am not sure but I do believe that I could tell Selma Hayek from a man if she put on a full on fake beard.

Here I am watching Al Pacino in "A Merchant of Venice", and this is a play with not one but three chick/men. Hey Willie, try a little harder.

Be original. You are William FREAKING Shakespeare.

A third grader can use the same flimsy plot pretense over and over, but for Shakespeare to use the same concept repeatedly and receive the lofty status bestowed upon him is a travesty.

Then again, perhaps if I shave I could look like Rosie O'Donnell.

Those are aspirations.

Mo' Drama. Or Be An Adult.

2005-05-14T00:33:00.000-04:00

I am not perfect.

I know, gentle reader, that this comes as a great shock to you all. All of zero is still all, right?

I make as many or more mistakes as anyone else. I am at a loss for answers as often as anyone else. However, I have one thing that no one else has. Picky-Me.

I am ridiculously proud of the relationship that she and I have. We discuss everything. EVERYTHING. To an absurd amount. I tell what I think is good, what I think is bad, what I am afraid of, and what I hope will happen. She does the same with me. I listen to what she thinks and feels. What she thinks is of supreme importance to me. Other than Christmas/birthday gifts, I do not keep secrets from Picky. I married her for a reason.

She is the greatest thing ever to happen to me. I love her more than anything.

I constantly see couples playing games with their relationship. He buys things behind her back, and she buys things behind his. Guys/Girls Night Out becomes a license to do something stupid. I see friends dragged into the middle with requests to not tell the spouse of even the most childish transgression. This makes no sense to me.

If you get married, why would you risk your relationship over something so trivial as a cigarette. I know, what kind of person would end a marriage over a cigarette. A giant pain in the ass. However, if a husband promises his wife to stop smoking, he should stand up to his word. If a wife says she did not buy anything during a trip to the mall, the husband should be able to believe her. I hate to sound like a bad Oprah guest, but honesty and trust are foundations for a good relationship. Not a perfect relationship, but a good relationship that can withstand the trials and tribulations of day to day life.

Once honesty has been established the rest is gravy. I heard of a couple who find themselves in a state that he no longer wishes to live in, but they remain because her family lives there. He is unhappy and wants to move back nearer to his family, but the crux of the problem is that neither of them will sit down and completely discuss the issue. Neither will come clean to the other. I am sure this extends all the way back to the beginning of their relationship. Rotting out the roots as it were. If you can not be honest with the person you love the most and whom should love you the most, there is a critical function missing in the marriage.

This concept is near and dear to me, but unfortunately when I discuss it, I come off a bit preachy. Oh, well. This is my damn blog anyway.

To keep it simple, look at it this way. If you are fortunate enough to be in a relationship with someone you truly love, be honest and open with them. Demand that they be honest with you. Prepare yourself for what that honesty may bring, but you will always know who your significant other is and who you are to them.

No lies.

No deceit.

Nothing but a strong relationship that will keep you happy.

That is what really matters anyway. Then your imperfections can be overcome by their strengths. That is what a marriage is all about.

Preaching over.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled surfing.

Who Me? I Am Not The Droid You Are Looking For.

2005-05-06T01:29:00.000-04:00

As the saying goes, it is a damn shame.

As i sat in my local Barnes & Noble, waiting to pick up Picky Me from work, I was taking notice of my fellow patrons. The debutant brigade was busy giggling over some high school drama.

Oh. My. God. Becky.

But more to my interest was the five young black people (two male and one female) sitting in front of me. Now my wife will attest that I have the worst hearing on the planet, when subject to a noisy environment. However, I could quite plainly hear the vast majority of their discussion.

They spent a good two hours discussing personal experiences they had in our area. They discussed police harassment in different public locations. How to get "yo nigga" to do what you want him to do. The finer aspect of the booty call over the constant boyfriend.

This Week with David Brinkley it was not. (Yes, I realize Dave is no longer doing the show, but as far as I am concerned, it is his show.)

What i found fascinating is that, while the entire discussion was extremely well articulated, with the exception of numerous uses of "nigger", they spent most of the time blaming their varying problems on everyone else. And those problems that they actually felt they had to take action to correct, they felt needed to be addressed through direct and immediate, though non-violent confrontation.

Now I mention their race simply as a matter of completeness in my description. What I find disappointing is that these are young people (in that they are younger than myself) with the intelligence to choose to make a difference, yet they spend their time dwelling on trivial issues and meaningless demonstrations of their "rights."

This is a trait I see in a number of intelligent, yet under-developed minds. People with the ability to be spokesmen for their causes, yet choosing to be street corner prophets rather than meaningful agents of change. For example, one of the young men commented on his harassment by the police and the illegal search of "some nigga" that led to his arrest. While I am a firm believer that the right to privacy is critical to freedom, I would first ask why the man in question has drugs or a gun on his person in the first place.

There can be no doubt that bigoted profiling takes place. I say bigoted profiling rather than just profiling for a reason. Bigoted profiling is simply picking on someone because of their race, religion, sex, etc. Profiling is targeting someone for a higher level of alertness because they reasonably fit a filtered profile. Profiling is being on the look out for me, if an alert is out for an angry white bald man. You might know me, and therefore know that I am a pretty low-key guy. You profile me as a bald man, but upon further inspection see that I am not your suspect. If the police knock on my door wanting to know where I was at a certain time because they are looking for a bald, white guy of average height, in my neighborhood, I will attempt to tell them. No big secret. Odds are I was playing on my computer, or cleaning the pool. No need to throw attitude. No need to be the big man on campus.

In light of the "Terrorist Threat", people get seven kinds of upset because of the specter of racial profiling.

Ladies and Gentlemen, if you tell me to be on the lookout for a Middle Eastern terrorist, I am going to pay specific attention to people that look um.... MIDDLE EASTERN.

Attention does not mean burn down my local mosque. It does not mean nasty looks when a man with dark hair and tanned skin gets in line behind me at the Starbucks. That kind of behavior leads to ill will from everyone. Attention does mean being alert.

If I am a store owner the truth is that a punked-out white kid, or a black kid with scowl on his face will draw more of my attention than the mild mannered guy in the suit. When I was about 12, I walked into a Neiman Marcus in New York, wearing my doo-rag, baggy shorts, and a t-shirt. Guess what? I drew looks.

I don't think it was admiration.

Especially not from the security guy following us around. So why didn't he hassle us?

While we found the attention funny, we did not want it to go any further. We did not want him to bother us and we gave him no reason to bother us other than our rather rough looks.

We were profiled. We knew it. It was funny.

My point is that there are a lot more intelligent people in the world at any age, but we the society have crushed our own spirit. These minds simply need to be shown the interest and opportunity to accomplish great things. A local cop is not the Man. He is doing his job. Perhaps based on experience. Perhaps based on his own personal bigotry. Who knows. Aim higher. You can not change the man, but you can be part of changing societies views on his actions. Those views can change the man.

Ben Folds. A Return To High School.

2005-04-27T00:39:00.000-04:00

Picky Me and I went to a Ben Folds concert on Sunday at Millersville University.

I am writing this while I wait for Ben to appear on Conan.

Very entertaining. Ben is great live.

It was in Pucillo Gymnasium. Not Hall. Not Amphitheater. Not Theater. A freaking gymnasium.

The Sydney Opera House it was not.

Sydney's Chicken Shack it was not.

Now, I am part deaf to begin with, but with the terrible accoustics in the "venue" at many times it simply sounded like a wall of music coming out of giant speakers. It was like some really pathetic high school presentation. I was waiting for my teacher to line us up to head back to class.

It was weak. To say the least.

Weak.

However, Nate Walker, the opener, and Butch Walker, the other opening act, were really good. The differences between a long time performer and someone in the beginning of his career were rather evident. Nate was a good performer, but his rapport with the audience needs work. Butch Walker, no relation, was more polished and really got the audience involved. Ben, as I said before, was great, however he did piss me off by not playing "Brick."

So Ben, when you read this, next time...

PLAY BRICK!

Otherwise great show.

Millersville. Way to represent Hicksville, USA.

A freaking gym.

nice.

Advertising. This Blog Brought To You By The Letter 7

2005-04-22T03:42:00.000-04:00

Have you ever attempted to judge the lives and activities of the world inhabited by the people in advertisements?

This is a seriously screwed up group of people.

I am not the most social person on the planet, but if you, my loyal, sociable, and non-existent reader, know that the world is truly like this, then I am far better off being anti-social.

These are people who have problems using simple household appliances. Have casual conversations about deeply personal medical conditions with their friends.

If one of my friends came to me to talk about masculine itch, I would kick him in his masculine itch, and be on my way. Not because I am mean or insensitive. Quite simply, I am not a doctor. So, I do not care. Bleeding profusely. Give me a call. Dying soon. Lean on me. Got that not so fresh feeling. Get the hell away from me, you unwashed freak!

The men in this world judge their worth on the number of folicles on their heads. I have a full head of hair and I shave it every three days. Want my hair? Call me. We can work something out. They have constant throw-downs to see who has the bigger testicles based on car, internet provider, cell phone, piss-water alcoholic beverage (beer) of choice, and, oh yeah, a little well earned respect around the neighborhood.

Are you kidding me? If one of my friends came to me and SERIOUSLY asked how the size of my lightsaber (hey, I am psyberJEDI) was satisfying Picky Me, there would be a long awkward silence. Followed by the satisfying squish of me manually adjusting his spinal column. However, I suppose only Ron Jeremy can know the satisfaction of having your penis be the source of your community respect.

Has anyone actually had this conversation?

How about kids in commercials? If my kid acted like the kids in commercials, I would have kids no longer. I would nail the little bastards to the wall with 10 penny nails. Whiney. Self-indulgent. Greedy.

Women. Nice. Self absorbed. Narcissistic. God forbid I look 30. So die at 29. Problem solved.

The truth is that I do not know that many people. Maybe I am sheltered. But all I can think of is 1000 years down the road. Scientists going through the post-nuclear remnants of the 21st centrury. Finding some old commercials. And thanking their deity that we perished.

I know I would be.

However. If you do prove this to be the way of the world. And I am just misguided. Please let me know. Because if that is the case, I have to get me some of those Axe and Tag products.

Christmas In April. So Says Big Red.

2005-04-21T05:02:00.000-04:00

Lo! The NFL Draft cometh.

As my boy, Big Red, says "It is Christmas in April."

Even Picky Me is a bit excited. Our Eagles are pretty damn good come draft day.

I am torn as to who I want us to pick.

Mel "The Hair" Kiper says he thinks the E-A-G-L-E-S will select Matt Jones.

Matt Jones. Hmmmm.

Quarterback from Arkansas, looking to become an NFL wide receiver. 6'6". nice

4.3 in the 40. very nice. Beautiful hands. Ooooooh, yeah! Snap into a slim jim.

The questions... Can he cut? Can he run good routes? Is he ready to go over the middle?

But we are in a place where we can take a bit of a project with this kind of upside.

I have seen a mock draft saying we will take Antaj Hawthorne, DT from Wisconsin. I think AH has fallen due to his testing positive for weed at the Combine. Duh!

Another named some center I have never heard of, but then again, you only hear about a center when he is giving up sacks or screwing up the snap. I am not thrilled with this prospect.

The NFL.com mock draft says we will take Kevin Burnett, LB from Tennessee. Eh. I can not say much about this guy.

End result? The truth is unless a team has a top 5 pick, it is next to impossible to guess what they will do with any given pick. There are too many possibilities. Too many variables. Move up. Move down. Trade picks. Not get your pick in on time (Minny, sorry Big Red).

So there it is. Christmas. I sent Santa a long list of wants, and trying to guess which one he will deliver it pointless. I will sit in front of my 60" Christmas tree and wait to see what arrives.

Ho Ho Ho. Merry Draft Day.

And I heard him exclaim, e'r he drove out of sight
May you draft an impact player, who gets through camp all right.

I Fought the Law. And the Law Acquiesced.

2005-04-16T00:26:00.000-04:00

About ten years ago, in Pennsylvania, there was a high school aged girl killed by two other girls and a boy who was dating one of the girls, and fooling around with the victim. Lisa Michelle Lambert and Tabitha Buck tortured and killed Laurie Show because Lisa's worthless boyfriend Lawrence Yunkin may have had sex, technically raped, Laurie. My point is not the vile nature of the selfish people in our society, but during the trial that followed one of the ploys by the attorney for Lisa Lambert tried to say that if the prosecution could not prove that the trio intended to rob Laurie Show, they could not charge Ms. Lambert with premeditated murder.

To quote the venerable Professor Hubert J. Farnsworth, "Whaa?"

More recently, Mark Hacking killed his wife because she found out that he lied to her about his acceptance to medical school. He shot her with a .22 caliber rifle.

While she slept.

Somehow, despite the fact that he admits to premeditated murder, the fact that they can not determine whether Lori Hacking was pregnant, which she claimed she was, means that they can not charge him with a capital crime.

Now, I am not a lawyer by any stretch. I have no idea what the laws are in Utah. Truthfully, I barely know the laws of Pennsylvania, but how does this work?

When is premeditated murder not premeditated murder?

How much prededitation is enough?

If my wife caught me in a lie, I am pretty sure I could apologize and she would forgive me. Perhaps not right away, but eventually. Although, if I lied to her about med school, she may shoot me.

This man chose to shoot his wife. Because he is a liar. So he shot her. He lied. The gun did not load itself. It did not jump into his hands. He decided (read premeditation) to kill his wife.

If a man brings a loaded gun to a fight, there is intent to use it. An unloaded gun is a threat. A loaded gun is a plan. If you come into my house uninvited, be prepared to meet my plan. Not a threat.

We have built all of this special interest law and now this man will not pay the price he should have to pay. His life.

Those of you who feel that the death penalty is barbaric and brings us down as a society need to remember something. Laurie Show can not laugh anymore. Lori Hacking will never know motherhood. Laurie Show will never read another good book. Lori Hacking will never hear another good song. Yet despite this, even in prison, Mark Hacking, Lisa Lambert, Tabitha Buck, and Lawrence Yunkin will hear a joke and smile. They may hear a song or see a movie. All things their victims can never do again.

The law fails the victim and the society it is supposed to protect. We have built a system of law so concerned with equality for the accused that it is now perforated with holes that the rich and determined can exploit.

Perhaps we need to make the hard decisions.

Put some teeth back into the law.

Put the burden of the crime onto the criminals. It is the least we can do for the victims.

Britney is Pregnant. A Blog by Request.

2005-04-14T02:16:00.000-04:00

Where is Child Services when you need them?

Health and Human Welfare?

At this point I may even be favorable to the right child merchant cartel.

There must be a way to rescue this as yet unborn child.

Perhaps we can get those poor misguided anti-abortion activists to look out for the rights of this unfortunate child.

Britney Spears is going to have a child. The poor thing. She will be taking advantage of it before it crowns. Then what chance does it possibly have for anything remotely resembling a normal life?

She has already demonstrated that she has no compunction about doing anything for a buck. People want wholesome Britney, she can stay in a hotel with her boyfriend and all they do is hold hands. People (OK, men)...(and lesbians with good taste) want slutty Britney. No problem, here is an entire tour of hers devoted to her swinging her hips and wearing the tightest/least clothing possible. And even some that is impossible.

Now, do not get me wrong, especially at her peak, Britney was one incredible babe. I would estimate that it was just about the time she did that spread for GQ, I think it was. But after the Vegas marriage to her childhood friend and her subsequent marriage to a bastard who left his PREGNANT fiance, for Britney.

These are quality people.

Who should have been sterilized.

I can see it now.

LITTLE SPEARS: Mommy, how did you meet Daddy?

BRITNEY: Well you see dear, Mommy was going through her two-bit slut phase, and Daddy was a dancer for Mommy while she performed. Daddy thought Mommy was hotter and had more money that the woman Daddy had already knocked up, so Mommy and Daddy got hitched in a traditional, white trash, hip-hop wannabe wedding. Daddy even wore a tux that said "The Pimp." If Daddy is the pimp, then Mommy is "The Ho."

SPEARLETTE: Can I be a ho, Mommy?

B: Sure sweety. But you have to wait until you are 14 like Mommy did.

These people are going to raise a child? I do not think so. Or more importantly, should not even be allowed to try.

I suppose they will not do too much damage. Look at the maternal example set by Britney's own mother. A shining example to stage parents everywhere. Now that Britney has left the house, she is pimping Jaime Lynn. I am surprised JL has not had breast implants and shown up on Leno is a leopard print mini-skirt and a halter top. Oh, that is next week. My bad.

One can only hope that Britney loses interest after paying someone to change diapers or after the "terrible two's", and gives the child up for adoption.

Or perhaps to some Satanic cult.

Or leave it in a dressing room after a concert.

Organ donation?

I can only hope. For the sake of the child.

Because every child deserves a chance.

This blog was requested by my beloved Picky Me.

Blogging. It is a Hard Life.

2005-04-12T02:54:00.000-04:00

It has been about 6 days since I last blogged.

This is hard work.

I only have so much to say at any one time.

I can only say so much without repeating myself.

I can only say so much without repeating myself.

Currently, I am waiting for the cardinals to annoint (appoint, elect, choose out of a hat, build out of Legos) a new pope. I am curious whether they go progressive or conservative.

We have the ongoing saga of ridiculous gas prices. I have actually heard people wax nostalgic of $1.75 for gas. I can not put into words, how absurd this whole affair has become. I hate to sound like a simple conspiracy junkie, but the oil companies and the those unscrupulous bastards in our government are really sticking it to us. Funny how despite the increase in gas prices and the "push" for green cars has resulted in only a few worthwhile automobiles. The automobile companies actually had the temerity to say that an SUV with a higher fuel efficiency is dangerous. And those morons we bought it. (were bought off). These are our fearless leaders. Thanks.

Then of course, the half pathetic and half disgusting case of Michael Jackson. Pathetic because this man was once a really great performer. Disgusting because that is all irrelevant in light of the fact that he is a child molester. If there is anyone with a messed up childhood and life that may be an underlying cause of his issues, it is Jacko. However, I have no simpathy for him. Regardless of his upbringing, he is responsible for his actions. He must pay the price.

Lastly a question for my non-existent listeners. If a man kidnaps his girlfriend and their baby, and is sitting in a car surrounded by SWAT team members, how should they handle it?

In my opinion the choice is easy. Snipe him when the opportunity presents itself. I realize that the baby means extra care, but a kidnapper has only one piece of leverage. The safety and well-being of his hostages. The logical basis for his actions is to get what he wants or he will hurt the hostages. Therefore the kidnapper has made the rules. Hurt him before he hurts the hostages. There is no need for a judge.

Just the jury.

One shot..

Spare the state a few bucks.

One less bastard on the street.

Thanks for listening.

People like me.
I force them to.
With violence.
I rule you.
--Travis, Aqua Teen Hunger Force

Chocolate Covered Chocolate. A Child's Dream. A Sad Adult Reality.

2005-04-06T16:37:00.000-04:00

I am in my late twenties.

I am an eight year old.

I have a rule. Never let go of those things that made childhood so great.

It was originally "Never grow up." Unfortunately that does not work.

Without obscene amounts of money.

What is an obscene amount of money anyway? While there is nothing wrong with porn, I would much prefer a XXX wallet.

Hayaten. (Anyway in Korean)

Responsibility comes with having the things you want. Eight year olds can not own a house. A car. A supercomputer. Well maybe Haley Joel Osment. But he is the only one.

So it may have been excessive blood flow after my run with Picky Me, but as I lay there on the driveway I had an epiphany.

Or it was that stroke I wrote of in my last blog.

Sometimes when you do what you want to do for so long, you need to step outside of yourself and do something different. I am not saying I have done everything I ever want to do. I am not saying I have everything I want. What I am saying is that, I have overdosed on the simple things I like to do.

I like working on my computer.

I read philosophy and physics.

I watch Aqua Teen Hunger Force.

I am bored yet I am doing what I want to do.

How does this happen?

As I lay there, on my driveway, I was looking at the beautiful Pennsylvania sky we have today, and I realized I had not reclined anywhere, and looked at the sky in a long time.

A very long time.

A decade or two.

It was nice.

Relaxing.

I was dying too.

That was OK.

The sky becomes something we simply cease to notice. So I lay there.

Until Picky Me kicked me.

To make sure I was still alive.

She said.

When you need a break, and the day is as sunny and temperate as today, go outside.

Stop whatever you are doing and go outside.

Just stop.

I recommend lying on the ground. Sit in a chair if you must.

But look at the sky and push everything out of your head. Just for a few minutes.

A clear head for five minutes is rare in our high speed world.

It can change your day.

I had not written a blog in nearly ten days. I was blocked. Out of ideas.

I went for a run. Lay in my driveway. And inspiration came to me.

Five clear minutes.

Try it.

I Run. Sure, If Something Is Chasing Me

2005-04-06T14:09:00.000-04:00

I do not run. Ever.

I am armed. Sometimes.

I lift weights. Lots of them.

I do not have to run.

Picky Me. She runs. She enjoys it. She is insane. This is obvious.

I do not run.

Ok, I run to play soccer. Or basketball. Or to barely escape the explosion following a harrowing rescue of Selma Hayek from South Carolinian terrorists, followed by an exceptionally hot sex scene.

But that is it.

Picky Me says Ms. Hayek has to leave me a tip. I MUST be GOOD.

Sorry ladies. I am taken.

Call me, Ms. Hayek.

But being a good husband, and in need of losing a small 4th grader, I thought I would make the effort to take part in my beloved wife's fun. My bad. I admit.

I am built to do things at one speed for a prolonged period of time. In the Dark Ages or building Pharaoh's Tomb, I would have made an excellent slave. I can walk for days. At one speed. I lift weights at one speed. I type at one speed.

I drive at one speed. Although that speed is generally just below the speed of sound.

You get the point.

I do not run.

So here I am.

Post run.

Dying.

This may be my last blog and testament.

Verily, I go gently into that good night.

Or I go via a stroke.

I suppose I will go again. Tomorrow.

I am a great husband. Or I have a death wish.

How very Charles Bronson of me.

Texas Hold'em. I got the 7 of Race Card, and the 2 of Sexuality in the Pocket. I go All In.

2005-03-28T18:00:00.000-05:00

I am a college educated, middle class, heterosexual, white male in my late 20's.

Well...

I am waiting...

It still has not come in the mail, nor have I been contacted to come pick it up.

I am referring, of course, to my White Male Priviledge Card. Or the Secret Handshake. Or whatever it is that allows me to kick some qualified minority out of their high paying, perk laden job and take it for myself. Why should I have to work hard, go to school, and save money, when we could simply give me the job my whiteness entitles me to receive.

I am pure white, you know. 100% Anglo-Saxon.

So what do I have to do? I have a buddy, VikingStepchild, and he is clearly white as well. He has not received his Privilege either.

How is it that I continually hear about the benefits of being white AND male, yet I have yet to see them. So I am hereby playing the race card. I want special treatment. I am obviously a minority. I am the unheralded white male. I want someone at the ACLU to lobby Washington to make sure I get a tax break. Or job preference. Or free postal service. White Male Month. SOMETHING. ANYTHING.

So I turned to Picky-me, my ever so brown-skinned wife, and I asked her. What have I ever received that could be interpretted as privilege?

She said my lovely wife.

She is no help.

After graduating in the top 30% of my class, there were no scholarships to MIT or Harvard or Penn waiting at my doorstep. Not even from the local community college. No checks from the NAAWP to help me on my way. Man, that sucked.

So I worked. Hard. To get an education. A job. A lovely wife (yes, dear, I included you). A house. I had to partake in such unfair and archane practices as "watch my spending" and "control my credit card debt". Even going so far as to "not buy the latest and greatest equipment that hit the shelves", and as a computer geek, that was hard work.

So now what? When do I get my big break? Special interest groups tell me I already had it when I was born. I must have misplaced it.

We talk about race and sex issues in this country like they are a given. Like the only way to fix any social biases, injustices, or simple bigotries is to legislate and reparate. (Sorry to go all Jesse Jackson on you.) Special laws for "Hate Crimes". Why? If you kill someone, you get the death penalty. It should not be worse because the parties are of different races. And truthfully, with our semi-enlightened age, can you say for certain the racial makeup of most people. Interracial marriage, while still an issue among snobs and incestual marriage proponents, is commonplace. My children will be mixed race. I think it is great. I want them to be proud of BOTH sides of their heritage. Few things irritate me more than a child of mixed parents embracing one side over the other. This means you, Alicia Keys and Mariah Carey.

The only time race and sexual preference will no longer be issues is when we stop making issues of them. Donovan McNabb is a quarterback. He is a great quarterback. (Yes. I am an Eagles fan.) He is a great Eagles quarterback. But his race does not matter. I don't care that he is black. The odds of him being black were exactly equal to the odds of me being white. His parents. Both black. Mine. Both white. I don't see race on the football field. I see jersey. My wife laughs at me when I tell her that I do not see her race when I look at her. I admit, I find women of her race attractive, but it is a trait. Not a definition.

I do not care when we have a female president or a black NFL owner. I do care that they be qualified for the job. It does not make the U.S. a better country simply because Colin Powell is black and he was Secretary of State. The U.S. will be a better country when our Secretary of State is the absolute best person for the job, and no one cares about the race.

Martin Luther King is not a significant person because he was black. He is significant because we pushed for social change and advocated pacifism to achieve his ends.

Gay rights activist should learn this lesson. Do not push for "Gay Rights." Demand "Equal Rights with Equal Responsibility for Everyone." No special laws to protect homosexuals. All laws to protect all people.

Women's rights activists should not push for women to be treated like men. Women are not men. Women should be admired for what they are and celebrated as such. But they are entitled to the same respect as men. If a woman wants to do a job, she must be capable to do the job. Not have the job adjusted to what she can do. Woman in combat. Sure. The women in the combat unit must have the EXACT same requirements as the men. Women in business. Sure. Go for it. Bring something new to the table. Women in the home. That is OK too. Raise your children to be active, productive, and decent members of society.

All of this applies to religion as well. I am Agnostic. It is not Atheism. It means I do not hold the concepts of the major religions. It means I do not believe that if there is a god, or what that god may think or say, is unknowable to man. My lovely wife is Roman Catholic. We have the best conversations. I love to discuss religion. Not so I can stand on a pedestal and tell her how foolish she is for being Catholic, but so I can better understand her feelings and her faith. I fully support her Catholicism. I have friends who go to church religiously (ha, ha). Great for them. I have friends that do not. Great for them. I have Catholic friends, Protestant friends, Jewish friends, and I even have a Wiccan friend. While I have not discussed religion with each of them, their preference is of little importance. What is important is how strongly they believe. If you tell me how devout you are and do not follow any of the tenets of your religion then that says something about you as a person. If you profess your faith, but then turn around and do as you wish, you are simply telling me what a promise from you truly means. What your choice of religion does not do is give me reason to hate you or discriminate against you. Muslims should be able to live with Jews. Christians with Atheists. Agnostics with anybody. Remember, if someone holds a different religion than you, and you truly believe in your religion, there is nothing their beliefs can do to you. Their religion is then make believe to you. So it can do no more harm to you than Darth Vader, Lex Luthor, and Freddy Krueger combined. Let them be. One day, no matter your beliefs, it will sort itself out. And when that they comes you can give them the finger from your afterlife.

So what is the point of this rambling diatribe. Racism exists. Religious persecution exists. Discrimination exists. But special interests, quotas, and the like are only band-aids. We the society either accept this behavior or we demand it change. If White Male Privilege exists, it is because we all accept it. If you are a black man with an idea, or an asian woman with business sense, or an average white male, start your own business. Create your opportunities or use those with which you are presented. And once you have succeeded, do not forget your hard work. Do not become the same racist you have fought so hard to overcome. Hire the best person for the job. Promote the best. Man or woman. White or black. Gay or straight. If the bisexual, buddhist, Mexican freak with the nose piercings and dyed hair is not the best candidate and the WASP is, give the WASP the high paying, perk laden, fun filled job.

But if the reverse is true, call me.

I am still waiting for my privilege to come through.

The Dark Tower. I want a new drug.

2005-03-27T04:09:00.000-05:00

It has been about 2 months since I finished Stephen King's Dark Tower Series, with the final book in the 7 book series, "The Dark Tower". These books have been the most engrossing I have read since the Lord of the Rings. They have been outstanding from first to last, and now there will be no more.

It is cold here in the dark...

So alone...

So cold...

Now, I am in search of something new. I am looking for a new book or series of books that has the same attention to detail and fulfilling plot that The Dark Tower Series has. Someone must rescue me.

OK. I am done whining now.

Thanks.

The writer of this blog apologizes for the pathetic and whiney nature of this post. As of 37 seconds following the publishing this post, he was sacked. Then he was beaten with an exceptionally large cucumber. Since he hates cucumbers, this was particularly devastating. The new writer may look the same, but rest assured, he is much improved. New and improved. And vitamin fortified. mmmmm... vitamins. And injected with Bovine Growth Hormone. Please do not point or stare at his udders. He is sensitive. Thank you.

Terri Schiavo. You Must Own Your Life.

2005-03-24T22:47:00.000-05:00

I was done writing for tonight until I accidentally stopped by Fox News. I know. Fox News! My bad. I whole heartedly apologize to reality and anything resembling the truth.

Let Terri Schiavo die. Look at the photos of this woman from prior to her condition. She was an attractive woman with that "spark of life", who is now a blinking vegetable. She is not Terri Schiavo anymore. Now she is biologically alive in the same manner that a plant is alive. I do not see the Catholic Church leaping into my backyard everytime I go out to pull weeds.

From what I have seen tonight alone, especially the brain scan showing 80% brain atrophe, there is only the parents selfish interest in their own emotions guiding them to keep this woman alive. Coupled with the religious nuts we know as the Bush family and a herd of misguided "right-to-lifers", they have delayed this woman's right to die for far too long.

I have the right to live. You, my (probably non-existent) reader have the right to live. We also must have the right to die. Each of us absolutely must own our bodies and our lives. We decry suicide as selfish and rant on the effect it has on the victim's family. The family does suffer. I feel sorry for the families of people who commit suicide, but not for the people who commit suicide. I often wonder if people who commit suicide reconsider just after stepping off the bridge, squeezing the trigger, or just as the rope tightens around their throats, but I do not feel sorry for them. They made a choice. They chose to die. It is OK. They have that right. You do not have to like it. You do not have to agree with it. Your god does not have to approve. No one has the right to tell a person whether or not they are allowed to die.

I think that is enough of my ranting. I will leave you with a question and a thought.

The Question. What if Terri Schiavo is trapped inside that vegetable husk, screaming to get out and knowing that there is no release from her carbon-based prison?

The Thought. Hopefully, she will go swiftly and gently into that good night. It has been six days. Don't end this for us, your husband, your parents, Jeb Bush, or the Catholic Church. End this for yourself. Go peacefully, Terri.

A View of the World. Mine.

2005-03-24T20:44:00.000-05:00

Like many of you (if anyone is reading), I sit in front of my computer or the television and watch the news scroll by and the talking head rationalizing the actions of the rich, or famous, or powerful. "We the people" simply get the scraps of life rationed out to us. Should one of us be so lucky as to elevate to a level of fame or power, they are required to maintain this status quo in order to keep their new found glory. This is not a conspiratorial rant of some vague "them" unifying to keep a brother down. The result of this societal behavior is a system of people all looking out for themselves and for those who can maintain their status. This is scarier than some shadow group of "Skulls" or power brokers. No one is actually in charge, and the system works in any situation from small groups to local governments to whole countries. With the advancements in technology and the transparency of borders this system of self interest has a grip over the entire world. This is how those pillars of the community in our government work.

Condoleeza Rice is a perfect example of this. She is the latest in a long line of bullet takers made famous in my lifetime by Ronald Reagan's bullet shield Ollie North. Nothing quite like taking a blame for people who can make sure that your post-testimony life goes smoothly. How much money does Ollie make as a television analyst.

Not all examples of this phenomenon are so politically charged or even important. This same mentality appears in our entertainment industry. Whether or not you like Jessica Simpson (for her talent or her looks) or Hillary Duff, there are the inexplicable cases of the careers of Ashlee Simpson and Hallie Duff. No discernable talent outside those posessed by the participants in your local karaoke bar (looking at you Ashlee). Yet somewhere there is a girl with talent and a truly new sound for the recording industry, and she can not get a sniff of what Ashlee Simpson has had handed to her because of her sister. Even when her SNL faux pas demonstrated at least a glimpse of the man behind the curtain, she was not laughed out of the industry. Daddy rushed forward with one thousand excuses as to why she was lip-synching.

I hate to be abrupt but I think this is enough venom for one day. I will expound more later.

Ok. A blog.

2005-03-24T01:14:00.000-05:00

My wife seemed be having fun blogging so I decided to personally waste space on the internet with my own blog.

Fabulous, isn't it.

Where I go from here, no one knows.

Thanks for coming.

Please keep all hands on the keyboard and mouse at all times. You may need to quickly retreat to your favorite site.