in response to steph's question about my thoughts about the nightclub manager getting 4 years in prison for the fire that killed something like 100 people at a heavy metal gig due to pyrotechnics onstage igniting the ceiling:
check this out where an "eco-terrorist" gets almost 23 years for setting three trucks on fire at a dealership. do i think this guy is nearsighted in terms of what he should have chosen to do in order to get his message out? oh yes. do i think that 23 years is ridiculous and unwarranted without his having caused the death or injury of even one person? more than yes.
so, a nightclub manager who knows that pyrotechnics are not allowed according to city code lets it happen or fails to ensure that a band known for pyrotechnics gets the memo is serving 4 years. do i think he is a killer? not at all. do i think he's an idiot who stood aside in order to get his paycheck and keep everyone happy? yes, i do. do i think that he is the "ringleader" who deserves the most lockup time? no, again. the people who go to these concerts know what they're in for. the people who go to these concerts know that it will get violent at some point. the people who go these concerts know that the venues absolutely suck. did they deserve to die? no. did they deserve anything but a kickass concert? no. did they know that this band gets out of control on a regular basis and look forward to it? yes. did the manager know this as well? yes. is he paid to make the band and the patrons happy? yes. did he do his job well up to the point that the ceiling caught on fire? yes. do he do his job well after? not so much. but how do you calm a headbanger crowd down when the place is on fire? you don't. and what do you do when the sprinklers don't turn on? run like hell. so, i can blame the germans, but do i punish them harshly because they are culpable or do i not because they didn't go into the evening thinking that it would be cool to kill a bunch of bad music lovers?
by the way, have you ever noticed that when someone else yawns you want to as well? but when a pet yawns there is no like reaction on your part? why is that? do pets yawn differently? is it a species thing? what?
and how cool is my former dispatch woman? she had extra copies of Ender's Game and Speaker For The Dead and gave them to me as a going-away present. i lost $15 earlier this year when i tried to order them online. i received neither books nor refund.
i've been hearing a commercial for Geico lately that asks you about the feeling of getting a $5 bill from your granny and then 99 more from some other people. then it asks you about finding a $5 bill on the ground and then finding a $495 bill next to it. Geico (and i belong to them, by the way) thinks that finding a piece of currency in the amount of $495 to be a good thing. tell me: what store is going to accept a $495 bill? and whose picture is on it? is it the kind of bill i would slip into the waitress's book after my bosses all hung out with me and then left without paying anything and i know there is no way i can pay for this mistake of mine? is this special money for states with a mandatory purchase rebate? can you take it to a bank and ask for all $1 bills in exchange? all $5? quarters? serously, though, whose picture would be on it?
i will miss jackfm in seattle. it is a radio station that has no dj. ever. it plays music, "clever quotes" by a prerecorded voice that is sometimes amusing. it plays commercials and makes no bones about it. any sigles from the late late sixties to about 2 years ago. i've been surprised by songs i haven't heard in a long time by madonna, nine inch nails, the talking heads, the doors, the go-go's, KISS, rickie lee jones, movie quips, peter gabriel, tom waits, the proclaimers, pearl jam, tower of power, prince, matchbox 20. and i've been disappointed. the playlist is fairly random, but they do only play commercial singles. so, no obscure b side song except very occasionally. but their library is pretty vast. santana is playing right now. oye como va. valise notch. say your mama coughs. squa-weeze them. ..okay, so those are my rendition.
Friday, May 12, 2006
Free At Last
um...i made it. i'm free sort of at last. no more bad boss. just a sad boss. his loss. today actually went relatively quickly. i had enough work to keep me occupied, then i read a book for the last two hours. i seem to have not met everyone's expectations, though. no one thought i would show up today. so, i saw looks of amazement and chagrin. a few of them may have lost bets.
i did receive kind words and thanks from all but He Who Shall Not Be Named. while my time here was short i did manage to make a difference in the eyes of the technicians. so, that makes me feel good. now that i think about it, everyone who had a reason to come into the office did stop to thank me. except bill. but he's, well, in his own orbit around the planet Anger. penn was the best. he knew exactly why i chose to leave and understood. he's worked with HWSNBN for a number of years and has seen him alienate many people. penn and i got along very well. he's the type of inspector who never talks down to anyone who might not be as experienced as he is. he will simply use smaller words. he enjoys teaching and mentoring. he's the kind of inspector i wish i could replicate ten times and have as my entire field staff. aaron, robert, john, tim and james all were very kind.
jon can kiss my ass. he is a ladder climber who will say one thing to you and another behind your back. but he was useful, because he's a snitch. i found i could feed him stuff in "confidence" knowing it would go straight to HWSNBN.
but that's all over. now, i go back to being a technician and arguing only with the dirt that is given to me. oh, another fun thing today: one of my old co-workers from down in the 'No called me for help on some asphalt testing. i was able to get her past the problems over the phone in about 30 minutes and it felt great to feel like a troubleshooter again. i haven't been asked to use my testing experience in some time.
but anyway. it's friday and i'm free. i may come back on later for political meanderings and whatnot. for now, gluck gluck gluck. burp. scratch. gluck gluck gluck.
i did receive kind words and thanks from all but He Who Shall Not Be Named. while my time here was short i did manage to make a difference in the eyes of the technicians. so, that makes me feel good. now that i think about it, everyone who had a reason to come into the office did stop to thank me. except bill. but he's, well, in his own orbit around the planet Anger. penn was the best. he knew exactly why i chose to leave and understood. he's worked with HWSNBN for a number of years and has seen him alienate many people. penn and i got along very well. he's the type of inspector who never talks down to anyone who might not be as experienced as he is. he will simply use smaller words. he enjoys teaching and mentoring. he's the kind of inspector i wish i could replicate ten times and have as my entire field staff. aaron, robert, john, tim and james all were very kind.
jon can kiss my ass. he is a ladder climber who will say one thing to you and another behind your back. but he was useful, because he's a snitch. i found i could feed him stuff in "confidence" knowing it would go straight to HWSNBN.
but that's all over. now, i go back to being a technician and arguing only with the dirt that is given to me. oh, another fun thing today: one of my old co-workers from down in the 'No called me for help on some asphalt testing. i was able to get her past the problems over the phone in about 30 minutes and it felt great to feel like a troubleshooter again. i haven't been asked to use my testing experience in some time.
but anyway. it's friday and i'm free. i may come back on later for political meanderings and whatnot. for now, gluck gluck gluck. burp. scratch. gluck gluck gluck.
Thursday, May 11, 2006
T Minus One
Am I just charmaliscious or what? I scored a $50 Visa gift card out of the SBC operator just by being my normal beautiful self. And the DSL modem is free. So, I have a new address, new phone number and DSL service when I get back to the 'No. APJ, ETA is next Thursday evening. I plan to do an almost straight through drive with the help of Exedrin Migraine (all the pain relief, twice the caffeine) with time to stop off somewhere and hit 756 homers in less than an hour. Tweaked when I get there? Oh yes. Needing help to unload the furniture? Definately. Happy to be back someplace where culture isn't a foreign word? Priceless. Moving away from my current boss? Pinch me. Wait, don't . If this is a dream I don't want to wake up.
Happy to be back with my old landlord. Endless thanks to Lecram for hooking me up with him in the first place three years ago. You gotta love a landlord who frequents your drinking establishments and insists on buying you one or two every time. And isn't hung up on "the rent is due by this day or you get charged extra". And doesn't even want a security deposit. But does take good care of the place. Of course, he does have amazingly responsible renters like me. When I moved out of my last place in the 'No before moving up here I realized I couldn't get the place totally cleaned before leaving (mostly because I let the moving guys take my vacuum cleaner two days before). So, I left a sixpack of good beer in the fridge along with some of my mom's homemade jam with a note to apologize about the pile of dust and stuff I'd swept into a corner. He liked it.
So, now I have an address that has to have the letter R or word Rear put on it in order for me to get mail. Cool. Make the joke, dear readers. Make the joke.
Now, one more day of work to get through. Today, my boss came through the lab and stopped as if he just remembered something and asked "So, your last day is still, um, tomorrow?". As if he'd forgotten. The message there was very simply "I'm trying to make you think that I truely don't think you're still here". Then he told me he wanted a "synopsis" of how the lab stands and what needs to be done by the time I leave. This guy is such a piece of work. He is in a panic to replace me, but won't speak with me unless it's to report a problem he has with me. And he won't include me in the steps needed to be taken in order to provide a smooth transition. He hasn't even interviewed anyone for my position. Why? Because he sat on his ass until it became a crisis.
Will I get a going-away lunch tomorrow? No. Will I get a thank-you-for-what-you've-done-and-can-we-still-be-friends moment? No. I will come in and do my work as I normally would and leave at 5 pm in order to get a free ride with the dispatch woman. I don't know that I even want to shake his hand if it's offered.
I found out very recently that he has illegally abused my salary position. I've said nothing. I don't know what to say or what I want to do about it. I know I'm going to make sure that the person who replaces me can't be taken advantage of in this way. Whether I ask for compensation for all of the extra hours worked is still a question turning on the spit in my mind.
But tomorrow is my last day! I'm so looking forward to working. I can do whatever I want. I can tell him to go fuck himself and there's nothing he can do. My transfer is complete and Clovis wants me back. I won't tell him anything, of course, but it will be nice to see him twist if there's anything he needs to speak to me about.
Anyhoo, I'm going to watch a movie now and drink a beer.
Happy to be back with my old landlord. Endless thanks to Lecram for hooking me up with him in the first place three years ago. You gotta love a landlord who frequents your drinking establishments and insists on buying you one or two every time. And isn't hung up on "the rent is due by this day or you get charged extra". And doesn't even want a security deposit. But does take good care of the place. Of course, he does have amazingly responsible renters like me. When I moved out of my last place in the 'No before moving up here I realized I couldn't get the place totally cleaned before leaving (mostly because I let the moving guys take my vacuum cleaner two days before). So, I left a sixpack of good beer in the fridge along with some of my mom's homemade jam with a note to apologize about the pile of dust and stuff I'd swept into a corner. He liked it.
So, now I have an address that has to have the letter R or word Rear put on it in order for me to get mail. Cool. Make the joke, dear readers. Make the joke.
Now, one more day of work to get through. Today, my boss came through the lab and stopped as if he just remembered something and asked "So, your last day is still, um, tomorrow?". As if he'd forgotten. The message there was very simply "I'm trying to make you think that I truely don't think you're still here". Then he told me he wanted a "synopsis" of how the lab stands and what needs to be done by the time I leave. This guy is such a piece of work. He is in a panic to replace me, but won't speak with me unless it's to report a problem he has with me. And he won't include me in the steps needed to be taken in order to provide a smooth transition. He hasn't even interviewed anyone for my position. Why? Because he sat on his ass until it became a crisis.
Will I get a going-away lunch tomorrow? No. Will I get a thank-you-for-what-you've-done-and-can-we-still-be-friends moment? No. I will come in and do my work as I normally would and leave at 5 pm in order to get a free ride with the dispatch woman. I don't know that I even want to shake his hand if it's offered.
I found out very recently that he has illegally abused my salary position. I've said nothing. I don't know what to say or what I want to do about it. I know I'm going to make sure that the person who replaces me can't be taken advantage of in this way. Whether I ask for compensation for all of the extra hours worked is still a question turning on the spit in my mind.
But tomorrow is my last day! I'm so looking forward to working. I can do whatever I want. I can tell him to go fuck himself and there's nothing he can do. My transfer is complete and Clovis wants me back. I won't tell him anything, of course, but it will be nice to see him twist if there's anything he needs to speak to me about.
Anyhoo, I'm going to watch a movie now and drink a beer.
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
I Blog Therefor I Am
1. When was the last time you had sex?
Most cultures define sex as an inimate act between two consenting adults. I do not. So, about four minutes ago.
2. How do you flush the toilet in public?
Right. Like anyone else does either. You leave one, I leave another.
3. Do you wear your seatbelt in the car?
Of course. It's the only thing that restrains me from attacking the other idiots.
4. Do you have a crush on someone?
Oh yes. Oh yes indeedy. See answer #1.
5. Name one thing that you start to get tense about if you are close to running out of it?
Patience.
6. What famous person do you (or other people) think you resemble?
(other people) Kevin Kline, Starsky, Tim Dalton. (me) Jack Black.
7. What is your favorite pizza topping?
Liv Tyler
9. Do you crack your knuckles?
Yes. I, also, knuckle my crack.
10. What song do you hate the most when it gets stuck in your head?
I wake up every morning for some reason with a new song stuck in my head. So, it's a daily thing. Today's was "Sweet Child of Mine" by Guns and Roses. But I didn't hate it...for the first 30 minutes or so. Now, Axl Rose must die.
11. Did just mentioning that song make it get stuck in your head?
No. Right now, I have the Bangles' "Vacation" going. Ooh, why would that be there?
12. What are your super powers?
The ability to annoy without provocation. Manipulation of others' feelings. Being goddamn funny even when no one else gets it. Forgetting the writer's lines. Sloth. Gardening. The ability to ignore incessant ringing. Eating for free at Costco. Shopping. Fucking up...and somehow making up for it.
13. What is the hardest thing you have faced?
Growing up. Accepting that Natalie Portman is too young for me. Accepting that I am not superhuman or immortal. Waking up right before driving through the fence right before the DUI. Realizing that I do not have the talent of Laurence Olivier or even one of the guys from "Buttfarts: The Musical". Learning to like myself.
14. Where are your car keys?
Within reach.
15. Whose answers to this questionnaire do you want to hear?
I don't even want to hear my own. I pick Zonthar and Mustang.
16. What's your most annoying habit?
Not answering the phone would be most people's pick. But I choose making sure my nose doesn't whistle before I fall asleep (this can be a long drawnout process if I'm partially stuffed up. I had one girlfriend banish me to the living room, that's when I learned to do it quietly).
17. Where did you go on your last vacation?
The 'No, of course. Tower. Rogue. Rain. Big fun. Friends galore. Great wrap party.
18. If you could punch one person in the nose and get away with it who would it be?
Ann Coulter. Oh, and I'd want the cameras. Get away, yes; have it not seen, no.
19. What is your best physical feature?
My ankles are kind of nice. They're well-formed.
20. What CD is closest to you right now?
Gillain Welch. Kien Lim. Southern Culture On The Skids. Rickie Lee Jones. Sublime.
21. What three things can always be found in your refrigerator?
Three? Um, cauliflower, cheese and beer. Three more: minced garlic, flour tortillas, corn tortillas. Three more: salad dressing, jam, butter.
22. What superstition do you believe/practice?
Wake up, shower, cup of tea with cigarette, take first crap.
25. Do you talk on your cell phone when you drive?
No. But I will take my hand off the wheel in order to "greet" those who do.
26. What would your name have been if you'd been born the opposite gender? If you don't know what your parents would've chosen, what name would you choose for your other-gendered self?.
Joelle. My choice. I happen to like my name and think any girl would be lucky to be named after me.
27. What song(s) do you sing most often in the shower?
"()"
28. If you could go back or forward in time would you and where would you go?
The Restaurant At The End Of The Universe.
29. What is your favorite Harrison Ford movie?
Raiders of the Lost Ark.
30. What CD is in your stereo?
2 A.M. Orchestra.
31. What OCD qualities do you have?
Orange County what? None so far as I know.
32. How many kids do you want to have?
See question #1.
33. If you could kiss anyone famous who would it be?
Liv Tyler. Susan Sarandon. Christina Ricci. David Letterman.
34.Would you really want to kiss someone you didn't know, even if they are famous?
Why not? If you knew my history of kissing et al, you'd wonder why they wanted to kiss me.
35. What do you do when no one is watching?
Practice. Also, see #1.
36. If they made a movie about your life, what actor/actress would be the best for this job?
Who would I like? John Cusack. Who would I expect? Bystander #2. My life is boring and boring is never celuloid. Okay, so maybe Michael Caine during one of his paycheck phases.
37. Would you rather die in a blaze of glory or peacefully in your sleep?
Blaze of Glory. I hate the cold now.
38. What candy, from when you were a kid, do you miss the most?
The ones I would steal. Seriously.
39. What is your favorite kid's movie?
Kiki's Delivery Service.
40. Favorite musician(s)/bands you've seen in concert?
Rickie Lee Jones, Lyle Lovett, Supertramp, The Beach Boys, Jonathon Richman, Tower of Power, The Police.
41. Have you ever been in love?
In love with love many times. In love with others...hard to say. It never took, so it's hard to say.
42. Do you talk to yourself?
I blog therefor I am.
43. Is there anybody you just wish would fall off the face of the earth?
Nope. Without the ones I dislike I would have no outlet for my loathing of others. Or the ability to feel superior.
Most cultures define sex as an inimate act between two consenting adults. I do not. So, about four minutes ago.
2. How do you flush the toilet in public?
Right. Like anyone else does either. You leave one, I leave another.
3. Do you wear your seatbelt in the car?
Of course. It's the only thing that restrains me from attacking the other idiots.
4. Do you have a crush on someone?
Oh yes. Oh yes indeedy. See answer #1.
5. Name one thing that you start to get tense about if you are close to running out of it?
Patience.
6. What famous person do you (or other people) think you resemble?
(other people) Kevin Kline, Starsky, Tim Dalton. (me) Jack Black.
7. What is your favorite pizza topping?
Liv Tyler
9. Do you crack your knuckles?
Yes. I, also, knuckle my crack.
10. What song do you hate the most when it gets stuck in your head?
I wake up every morning for some reason with a new song stuck in my head. So, it's a daily thing. Today's was "Sweet Child of Mine" by Guns and Roses. But I didn't hate it...for the first 30 minutes or so. Now, Axl Rose must die.
11. Did just mentioning that song make it get stuck in your head?
No. Right now, I have the Bangles' "Vacation" going. Ooh, why would that be there?
12. What are your super powers?
The ability to annoy without provocation. Manipulation of others' feelings. Being goddamn funny even when no one else gets it. Forgetting the writer's lines. Sloth. Gardening. The ability to ignore incessant ringing. Eating for free at Costco. Shopping. Fucking up...and somehow making up for it.
13. What is the hardest thing you have faced?
Growing up. Accepting that Natalie Portman is too young for me. Accepting that I am not superhuman or immortal. Waking up right before driving through the fence right before the DUI. Realizing that I do not have the talent of Laurence Olivier or even one of the guys from "Buttfarts: The Musical". Learning to like myself.
14. Where are your car keys?
Within reach.
15. Whose answers to this questionnaire do you want to hear?
I don't even want to hear my own. I pick Zonthar and Mustang.
16. What's your most annoying habit?
Not answering the phone would be most people's pick. But I choose making sure my nose doesn't whistle before I fall asleep (this can be a long drawnout process if I'm partially stuffed up. I had one girlfriend banish me to the living room, that's when I learned to do it quietly).
17. Where did you go on your last vacation?
The 'No, of course. Tower. Rogue. Rain. Big fun. Friends galore. Great wrap party.
18. If you could punch one person in the nose and get away with it who would it be?
Ann Coulter. Oh, and I'd want the cameras. Get away, yes; have it not seen, no.
19. What is your best physical feature?
My ankles are kind of nice. They're well-formed.
20. What CD is closest to you right now?
Gillain Welch. Kien Lim. Southern Culture On The Skids. Rickie Lee Jones. Sublime.
21. What three things can always be found in your refrigerator?
Three? Um, cauliflower, cheese and beer. Three more: minced garlic, flour tortillas, corn tortillas. Three more: salad dressing, jam, butter.
22. What superstition do you believe/practice?
Wake up, shower, cup of tea with cigarette, take first crap.
25. Do you talk on your cell phone when you drive?
No. But I will take my hand off the wheel in order to "greet" those who do.
26. What would your name have been if you'd been born the opposite gender? If you don't know what your parents would've chosen, what name would you choose for your other-gendered self?.
Joelle. My choice. I happen to like my name and think any girl would be lucky to be named after me.
27. What song(s) do you sing most often in the shower?
"()"
28. If you could go back or forward in time would you and where would you go?
The Restaurant At The End Of The Universe.
29. What is your favorite Harrison Ford movie?
Raiders of the Lost Ark.
30. What CD is in your stereo?
2 A.M. Orchestra.
31. What OCD qualities do you have?
Orange County what? None so far as I know.
32. How many kids do you want to have?
See question #1.
33. If you could kiss anyone famous who would it be?
Liv Tyler. Susan Sarandon. Christina Ricci. David Letterman.
34.Would you really want to kiss someone you didn't know, even if they are famous?
Why not? If you knew my history of kissing et al, you'd wonder why they wanted to kiss me.
35. What do you do when no one is watching?
Practice. Also, see #1.
36. If they made a movie about your life, what actor/actress would be the best for this job?
Who would I like? John Cusack. Who would I expect? Bystander #2. My life is boring and boring is never celuloid. Okay, so maybe Michael Caine during one of his paycheck phases.
37. Would you rather die in a blaze of glory or peacefully in your sleep?
Blaze of Glory. I hate the cold now.
38. What candy, from when you were a kid, do you miss the most?
The ones I would steal. Seriously.
39. What is your favorite kid's movie?
Kiki's Delivery Service.
40. Favorite musician(s)/bands you've seen in concert?
Rickie Lee Jones, Lyle Lovett, Supertramp, The Beach Boys, Jonathon Richman, Tower of Power, The Police.
41. Have you ever been in love?
In love with love many times. In love with others...hard to say. It never took, so it's hard to say.
42. Do you talk to yourself?
I blog therefor I am.
43. Is there anybody you just wish would fall off the face of the earth?
Nope. Without the ones I dislike I would have no outlet for my loathing of others. Or the ability to feel superior.
Bonds not Ruthian? Bullshit. Couldn't say it better myself. Actually, I couldn't say it anywhere near this well. After all, I am not a writer. I am a ranter. And anyone who thinks that Bonds got to where he is on the back of a needle can kiss my hairy white ass. Babe Ruth was a pig with the IQ of that twin from Deliverance.
Well, it's Quittin' Time minus 2 days. My lab tech asked me if he could take those two days off for a long weekend and, knowing that he will be working 6 or 7 days a week until they find my replacement, I said "get the hell out of here". So, I will be solo for these last two days. Which is okay. But I'll miss the young bugger. That boy can break me out of a funk faster than anyone I've ever met. Maybe it's because he's young. Maybe it's because he has a chip and attitude like no one's business and it makes me laugh to watch him get all pumped up over miniscule things. But I'll miss him. I just got done writing a letter of recommendation for him along with a personal note addressing those things I think he needs to think about. I may call him and get him to come mow the lawn before I leave (and help me schlep the couches into the moving van). It's weird leaving here. I can't wait to be back in the Tower and see all of my friends. But there's a part of me that hates walking away from this challenge I was so up for only 6 months ago. Under different circumstances I could have made this lab the creme de la creme. It's almost there. Well, it's a year or two away from "there", but it coulda happened. I don't feel as if this was a failure. But I do feel it was a big missed opportunity. And it will take time for me to figure out if the miss was truely the boss's fault or if I could have learned something from all of this and stayed. I do know that the person who replaces me can ask for the moon in terms of salary. They will be walking into a ready-made lab and the boss is in a panic. He won't speak to me about it...actually he won't speak to me about anything. He is acting as if I am already gone. Cutting off his nose to spite his face. Everyone else is being cool about the whole affair. I'm getting the usual ribs, but they're letting me know that they would like me to stay. I think I can leave on a positive note. I learned a lot about management and about myself. Someday, maybe, I can try it again. For now, though, I look forward to becoming an hourly grunt who just runs tests and helps out the lab boss.
See you tomorrow.
Well, it's Quittin' Time minus 2 days. My lab tech asked me if he could take those two days off for a long weekend and, knowing that he will be working 6 or 7 days a week until they find my replacement, I said "get the hell out of here". So, I will be solo for these last two days. Which is okay. But I'll miss the young bugger. That boy can break me out of a funk faster than anyone I've ever met. Maybe it's because he's young. Maybe it's because he has a chip and attitude like no one's business and it makes me laugh to watch him get all pumped up over miniscule things. But I'll miss him. I just got done writing a letter of recommendation for him along with a personal note addressing those things I think he needs to think about. I may call him and get him to come mow the lawn before I leave (and help me schlep the couches into the moving van). It's weird leaving here. I can't wait to be back in the Tower and see all of my friends. But there's a part of me that hates walking away from this challenge I was so up for only 6 months ago. Under different circumstances I could have made this lab the creme de la creme. It's almost there. Well, it's a year or two away from "there", but it coulda happened. I don't feel as if this was a failure. But I do feel it was a big missed opportunity. And it will take time for me to figure out if the miss was truely the boss's fault or if I could have learned something from all of this and stayed. I do know that the person who replaces me can ask for the moon in terms of salary. They will be walking into a ready-made lab and the boss is in a panic. He won't speak to me about it...actually he won't speak to me about anything. He is acting as if I am already gone. Cutting off his nose to spite his face. Everyone else is being cool about the whole affair. I'm getting the usual ribs, but they're letting me know that they would like me to stay. I think I can leave on a positive note. I learned a lot about management and about myself. Someday, maybe, I can try it again. For now, though, I look forward to becoming an hourly grunt who just runs tests and helps out the lab boss.
See you tomorrow.
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
T Minus Three and Counting
You thought it was over, but you're wrong. One more comment on the mighty mighty Stephen Colbert. Steph-o!
It's easy for many of us to forget those affected by hurricane Katrina. it's last year's story and so many more scandals and disasters have happened since. It's nice to know that some journalists are still working to remind us that this most devastating tragedy is not yet behind us and may not be for years to come.
Tony Blair has announced he will be stepping down from his most exalted post earlier than anticipated. He and his party have been rocked by scandal and gaining lack of public support for some time now, but things became inestimably worse when Jack Straw was sacked and word leaked out that it was due primarily to the influence of George "heckuvajob" Bush and one phone call. I have no idea which party would lead England in a better direction than they face now, but it will be distinctly interesting to watch the fall-out over Blair's veryveryvery close ties to our President whose approval ratings just dropped to 31%, let me say that again with another poll's backing-31%, second lowest only to Nixon and Carter. And Carter's ratings bungee-plummeted only because Reagan and his boys were making deals with Tehran during the campaign to not free our citizens until after the vote.
Bush's Fish Story. And, yes, there is a German paper that reported his interview. Some bloggers are asking the question: is he that much of a liar? I respond with: no, he's that much of a boy king moron. And if that's the highlight, ohmyfreakinggoodness, there's not much in the vein of positive news concerning his presidency that even he can conjure up.
Bush says that the Taliban are not terrorists. Just out (well, not so much just out as I'm just getting around to writing about it) is the annual list of those assholes who don't like us and made some sort of pact to show us their dislike by killing one or more of us in a concerted effort. You know, the Liberals. Just kidding. Seriously, I'm somewhat stumped as to how Liberals didn't make that List. But the Taliban are not on there. In another article was a quote from some administration wonk that the Taliban were made up mostly of normal, common, everyday Afghan men who just wanted their homeland back. Not like all those damned Iraqis, I mean insurgents, I mean foreign agitators, I mean effing terrorists not from Saudi Arabia or Dubai.
Do I dare to pretend I understand any monetary bill coming out of Washington an any given day? No, I don't. The legalese used to wrap an enigma in a riddle in a word jumble makes mincemeat of my 140 IQ mind (yeah, that's right. 140. Was told that by an online site the third time I took the test. And I only paid thrice, so there). Do I think that the Republicans, knowing that their control of the government is extremely shaky, will do pretty much anything to reward their benefactors before it's too late? Yes, I do. As any good crony government would do when it thinks it might be on the way out. Line the coffers, boyos. After all, your careers aren't over, just the job titles on your business cards.
It's easy for many of us to forget those affected by hurricane Katrina. it's last year's story and so many more scandals and disasters have happened since. It's nice to know that some journalists are still working to remind us that this most devastating tragedy is not yet behind us and may not be for years to come.
Tony Blair has announced he will be stepping down from his most exalted post earlier than anticipated. He and his party have been rocked by scandal and gaining lack of public support for some time now, but things became inestimably worse when Jack Straw was sacked and word leaked out that it was due primarily to the influence of George "heckuvajob" Bush and one phone call. I have no idea which party would lead England in a better direction than they face now, but it will be distinctly interesting to watch the fall-out over Blair's veryveryvery close ties to our President whose approval ratings just dropped to 31%, let me say that again with another poll's backing-31%, second lowest only to Nixon and Carter. And Carter's ratings bungee-plummeted only because Reagan and his boys were making deals with Tehran during the campaign to not free our citizens until after the vote.
Bush's Fish Story. And, yes, there is a German paper that reported his interview. Some bloggers are asking the question: is he that much of a liar? I respond with: no, he's that much of a boy king moron. And if that's the highlight, ohmyfreakinggoodness, there's not much in the vein of positive news concerning his presidency that even he can conjure up.
Bush says that the Taliban are not terrorists. Just out (well, not so much just out as I'm just getting around to writing about it) is the annual list of those assholes who don't like us and made some sort of pact to show us their dislike by killing one or more of us in a concerted effort. You know, the Liberals. Just kidding. Seriously, I'm somewhat stumped as to how Liberals didn't make that List. But the Taliban are not on there. In another article was a quote from some administration wonk that the Taliban were made up mostly of normal, common, everyday Afghan men who just wanted their homeland back. Not like all those damned Iraqis, I mean insurgents, I mean foreign agitators, I mean effing terrorists not from Saudi Arabia or Dubai.
Do I dare to pretend I understand any monetary bill coming out of Washington an any given day? No, I don't. The legalese used to wrap an enigma in a riddle in a word jumble makes mincemeat of my 140 IQ mind (yeah, that's right. 140. Was told that by an online site the third time I took the test. And I only paid thrice, so there). Do I think that the Republicans, knowing that their control of the government is extremely shaky, will do pretty much anything to reward their benefactors before it's too late? Yes, I do. As any good crony government would do when it thinks it might be on the way out. Line the coffers, boyos. After all, your careers aren't over, just the job titles on your business cards.
Monday, May 08, 2006
Monday Night Movies
As an antidote to Lecram's film picks of the week, I feel I must jump up and offer my own. It's not that I disagree with his choices. So far, he has been spot on interms of quality and entertainment value. However, testostrone level? Fear factor? Violence volume? Not so much. So, I present my first film pick as a remedy:
A rock-solid epic of a journey into the heart of Dixie darkness. Replete with zombies, killer viruses, backwoods redneck fucks, tributes to Deliverance and Evil Dead, and humor so dark and nasty you'd need to solve the Black Hole Theory just to find your pecker afterwards. Plus, it's a Morality Tale. Just in case some of you are hung up on the whole "redeeming quality", "is it good for the children", "he just said the N word" thing. Which I'm not. Laughs, gaffes, chills, thrills and spills. Potty talk, potty humor, maybe even potty potty. One disclaimer, though: it's intelligently written and directed with a talented cast. You know, blah blah blah. One more disclaimer: as Joe Bob Briggs would say, "3 Buckets of Blood, one car explosion, one burning body, zero boobies".
Sunday, May 07, 2006
'No News
Sunday May 28, 2006 at 10:00 AM-5:00 PM
Where:Aldo's Nightclub
617 W. Belmont
Fresno, CA 93728
SPONSORED BY PRIVATE ENCOUNTERS, ALDO'S NIGHT CLUB AND Q97 WILL ALSO BE AT THE EVENT!
GIRLS WANTED!!!!!
We are auditioning girls to come and join the fun and work in the biggest Co-Ed bikini car wash event of the year! The only Co-Ed Bikini Car Wash with Private Dancers! Hosted by Private Encounters!
This BIG Event will be held in May 28, 2006!
If interested please send Photos to email addresses below,
For more info email louistight@yahoo.com or private_encounters_fresno@yahoo.com
Or Call 559-273-0067
whoo hoo! waka waka! ahoooogah!
what's with the co-ed bikini part, though? are there going to be studs wearing buttfloss? or fat guys like me with plumber's butt?
Where:Aldo's Nightclub
617 W. Belmont
Fresno, CA 93728
SPONSORED BY PRIVATE ENCOUNTERS, ALDO'S NIGHT CLUB AND Q97 WILL ALSO BE AT THE EVENT!
GIRLS WANTED!!!!!
We are auditioning girls to come and join the fun and work in the biggest Co-Ed bikini car wash event of the year! The only Co-Ed Bikini Car Wash with Private Dancers! Hosted by Private Encounters!
This BIG Event will be held in May 28, 2006!
If interested please send Photos to email addresses below,
For more info email louistight@yahoo.com or private_encounters_fresno@yahoo.com
Or Call 559-273-0067
whoo hoo! waka waka! ahoooogah!
what's with the co-ed bikini part, though? are there going to be studs wearing buttfloss? or fat guys like me with plumber's butt?
Saturday, May 06, 2006
Jaun Cole
My obsession with Stephen Colbert and the fallout of his night on the town isn't ending yet. Here's a very good editorial about that night and the hypocricy surrounding most of the people attending.
Juan Cole takes it to Christopher Hitchens for being a yellow weasel. Strong, strong comment about the right wing push to annihalte Iran without legitimate provocation. Plus, Cole's nudge about Hitchen's drinking problem. But to get jaun Cole so pissed off that he attacks back with strong language means someone went off the deep end ethically. Cole is as moderate a Liberal as there is. he tries always to be a peacemaker. While he holds to his beliefs, he also tries to take into account always the other side of the argument. This column is a radical departure. Enjoy.
Now, good night.
Juan Cole takes it to Christopher Hitchens for being a yellow weasel. Strong, strong comment about the right wing push to annihalte Iran without legitimate provocation. Plus, Cole's nudge about Hitchen's drinking problem. But to get jaun Cole so pissed off that he attacks back with strong language means someone went off the deep end ethically. Cole is as moderate a Liberal as there is. he tries always to be a peacemaker. While he holds to his beliefs, he also tries to take into account always the other side of the argument. This column is a radical departure. Enjoy.
Now, good night.
Friday, May 05, 2006
Letter To The Editor
(oops. after my last post i made the odd decision to write to mr cohen. i'm trying t0 figure out if it's too much beer and not enough zucchini? Or too much zucchini and not enough beer? Or both?)
Mr. Cohen,
You don't find Mr. Colbert funny. Okay. You claim you're funny. Okay. Why is it, though, that you are relegated to writing words that snipe at others from the safety of your First Amendment rights and the cover of your newspaper's lawyers while Colbert is doing his thing on a channel owned by a very conservative company? You called him rude and a bully. In fact, he stuck his neck out in order to make the point that no one among us is beyond reproach. The fact that he basically called the Washington press corps stenographers should be clelebrated. For they are stenographers. If they weren't, Helen Thomas would not be sitting in the back row each day. The fact that he mocked the President made me feel an empowerment I haven't felt for some time. Finally, someone was making jokes that my intellectual brain was enjoying. Where were you when the conservative talk show hosts were lampooning Bill Clinton about his blowjob and not being funny? Did you stand up and shout out that it was disrespectful of the President and his office to mock him? Just because it's a public function does not mean that Bush should be held as would be a crystal vase. You're either a journalist and reporter who adheres to the truth of the matter at hand and not the party line or you are a partisan sycophant. Make your choice and shout it out.
(well, that was just the peachiest letter, wasn't it dearies? i know i'll get a reply from him as soon as he reads it. that's the way those top journalists are. they know the regular person like they know the back of their hand. because the back of the hand is what they see when they clutch their paychecks. write what i tell you and thank me for it. if i do get an answer i will print it here)
Mr. Cohen,
You don't find Mr. Colbert funny. Okay. You claim you're funny. Okay. Why is it, though, that you are relegated to writing words that snipe at others from the safety of your First Amendment rights and the cover of your newspaper's lawyers while Colbert is doing his thing on a channel owned by a very conservative company? You called him rude and a bully. In fact, he stuck his neck out in order to make the point that no one among us is beyond reproach. The fact that he basically called the Washington press corps stenographers should be clelebrated. For they are stenographers. If they weren't, Helen Thomas would not be sitting in the back row each day. The fact that he mocked the President made me feel an empowerment I haven't felt for some time. Finally, someone was making jokes that my intellectual brain was enjoying. Where were you when the conservative talk show hosts were lampooning Bill Clinton about his blowjob and not being funny? Did you stand up and shout out that it was disrespectful of the President and his office to mock him? Just because it's a public function does not mean that Bush should be held as would be a crystal vase. You're either a journalist and reporter who adheres to the truth of the matter at hand and not the party line or you are a partisan sycophant. Make your choice and shout it out.
(well, that was just the peachiest letter, wasn't it dearies? i know i'll get a reply from him as soon as he reads it. that's the way those top journalists are. they know the regular person like they know the back of their hand. because the back of the hand is what they see when they clutch their paychecks. write what i tell you and thank me for it. if i do get an answer i will print it here)
Keepin" It Real, Squirrel Style
Porter Goss the Albatross is OUTOUTOUT. 18 months and done. Talk about a temp job. I thought the CIA was a for-life thing until they put a bullet in your head. Or they leaked your name to the papers in retaliation for something your husband said. Or they have you fired on trumped up charges months before you were going to retire anyway. Hmmm, I'll have to look into employment there. I got no wife, they would know going in that I'd hand out classified material to reporters like Santa, presents and attractive women (good or bad) on christmas Eve. Wait, I mean children. Wait, I don't mean attractive ones. Oh, you know what I mean.
And they wouldn't have to lie about the charges of espionage. Looks like a perfect fit. Especially if I can get in on some of this action. Poker and Pros, baby. And at the Watergate hotel. That's the life for me. But wait, there's more. And tens of millions in greenbacks, too? Oh my. I gotta get me some of that. I'd sell my liberal, secular, goin-to-hell-for-sure, can't-believe-in-God-if-I-vote-Democrat soul for a taste of that pie.
Someday, somewhere, in a country far far far away from here, someone with enough clout will once and for all kick touchscreen voting machines the hell out of our solar system. But not today, not this year, not this cycle. Not until the democrats win one by so large a margin that it becomes obvious to the walking dead that their votes went to the wrong guy. Or a Liberal steps away from the bong long enough to learn how to properly hack and not leave a signature ending in "I so got you dudes. Fur sucks. Signed, Chronic."
Sleep-driving? Okay. I'll buy it. So long as they make another pill that allows sleep-sexing, sleep-talking to my parents, sleep-working, and (finally) sleep-sleeping.
Oooh. Now, here's a good question. Should Karl Rove resign from his paid-by-us position in order to orchestrate the Republican National Re-election campaign for this year's mid-term? Sounds a bit partisan on the face of it, dontcha think? He represents an administration that is supposed to represent all of us. Yet, he is now officially in charge of keeping the wingnuts in power within the Congress. Not that it makes much difference one way or the other.
Hit List: Rick Santorum. Purity Balls. Richard Cohen.
On a personal note...what is it with this recent platypus on squirrel sex thing? I mean, for cring out loud, think about the offspring they would produce? Duck-billed rodents with furry claws that are comfortable neither on land or in water and couldn't crack a nut to save their lives. Hell, you might as well try to build another new Volkswagon with that kind of thinking. it just won't work. And as attractive as a certain scary squirrel might find a certain platypus it's just not in the cards, folks. Not gonna happen. Wouldn't be prudent. And Jade, methinks you doth protest too much. Makes me wonder what deep dirty impulses you harbor. As for all of you "anonymous" readers and commenters, read the whole damn thing before you declare that I'm on your side or even interested.
Now, it time to watch "Squid and the Whale". Last night was "Walk the Line", which was very good and entertaining and made me miss my Folsom prison cd that I sold before I moved up here. In fact, anyone who bought something from me at the yardsales, I want it all back. No refunds. You took advantage of me in a weak moment. Shame on you. Lecram, however, can keep the barnyard porn. I didn't really get "it". Keep working on the students, though. They are our future.
And they wouldn't have to lie about the charges of espionage. Looks like a perfect fit. Especially if I can get in on some of this action. Poker and Pros, baby. And at the Watergate hotel. That's the life for me. But wait, there's more. And tens of millions in greenbacks, too? Oh my. I gotta get me some of that. I'd sell my liberal, secular, goin-to-hell-for-sure, can't-believe-in-God-if-I-vote-Democrat soul for a taste of that pie.
Someday, somewhere, in a country far far far away from here, someone with enough clout will once and for all kick touchscreen voting machines the hell out of our solar system. But not today, not this year, not this cycle. Not until the democrats win one by so large a margin that it becomes obvious to the walking dead that their votes went to the wrong guy. Or a Liberal steps away from the bong long enough to learn how to properly hack and not leave a signature ending in "I so got you dudes. Fur sucks. Signed, Chronic."
Sleep-driving? Okay. I'll buy it. So long as they make another pill that allows sleep-sexing, sleep-talking to my parents, sleep-working, and (finally) sleep-sleeping.
Oooh. Now, here's a good question. Should Karl Rove resign from his paid-by-us position in order to orchestrate the Republican National Re-election campaign for this year's mid-term? Sounds a bit partisan on the face of it, dontcha think? He represents an administration that is supposed to represent all of us. Yet, he is now officially in charge of keeping the wingnuts in power within the Congress. Not that it makes much difference one way or the other.
Hit List: Rick Santorum. Purity Balls. Richard Cohen.
On a personal note...what is it with this recent platypus on squirrel sex thing? I mean, for cring out loud, think about the offspring they would produce? Duck-billed rodents with furry claws that are comfortable neither on land or in water and couldn't crack a nut to save their lives. Hell, you might as well try to build another new Volkswagon with that kind of thinking. it just won't work. And as attractive as a certain scary squirrel might find a certain platypus it's just not in the cards, folks. Not gonna happen. Wouldn't be prudent. And Jade, methinks you doth protest too much. Makes me wonder what deep dirty impulses you harbor. As for all of you "anonymous" readers and commenters, read the whole damn thing before you declare that I'm on your side or even interested.
Now, it time to watch "Squid and the Whale". Last night was "Walk the Line", which was very good and entertaining and made me miss my Folsom prison cd that I sold before I moved up here. In fact, anyone who bought something from me at the yardsales, I want it all back. No refunds. You took advantage of me in a weak moment. Shame on you. Lecram, however, can keep the barnyard porn. I didn't really get "it". Keep working on the students, though. They are our future.
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
I Like Em Scrambled
It's very simple. We need to bomb China and India back into the Stone Age. If they have no roads and cars to drive on them, then we get our oil back. Pushing on Iran isn't the answer, obviously. We push, they get pissed off and turn the handle down on the oil spigot. We bomb them and we lose their oil supply. China and India make deals behind our backs with African nations and whonot and we sit by pretending not to notice. No. Nuke those two and gas prices fall back to 75 cents a gallon, in part because there's more oil to go around and because everyone else is so frigging scared we might radioactivate their testicles as well. I love it. Nuke, nuke, nuke. In the end, we will own all. And the cockroaches will have mutated enough that we can name them and (hopefully) housebreak them. Of course, the platypus will look on and mutter things about our genitalia and how, if evolution favors humans, it didn't give them the ability to lay eggs in the first place (but I will answer by pointing out that electing Bush is, in fact, laying a rather large egg; it's just that humans choose to do it en masse, it seems to take an entire country to produce only one).
3 Balls above His Head
Oh, you just gotta read what the Rude Pundit has to say today. Oh fuck it's funny.
So, is this court case in line with me being handed a "ten step program to better management" pamphlet that uses Psalms as its basis? Can I make him stop? Not that I would want to. It amuses me when co-workers approach me with management styles rooted in the Bible. Since I prefer to think that the Bible teaches anarchy when it comes to conformity and visulizing material gain. And it helps me to understand who all takes their jobs waaaaaay too seriously. I mean if you have that much need for bestseller metaphysical control over your work environment then you need to step away from the conference table and toward the waterbong.
Oh crap. Maybe you've seen this video. Maybe not, don't care. Chris Bliss juggles to the Beatles. Phenomenal. No other word. 'Simple' three ball tossing, but done to Golden Slumbers and into the finale of Abbey Road. Oh, it's worth it. Did I say fuck yet? Here: it's fucking great.
And one more note on Stephen Colbert: someone else in the blogosphere gets it. (yeah yeah, there's not only one. There's probably like three or four)
Bush thought he was going to la-di-da his way through a Rotary Roast and come out feeling all gushy and popular. What he got was a ke-bab-ing. And about time, too. Calvin Coolidge began this tradition for a reason. The reason was to let the "public" as it were remind us and the President that he is human. That he works a job and gets paid by us and he should never forget that we are his employer...okay, maybe that's not why this all started, but it shoulda been. people in power tend to forget what it might have been like before the Power. Bush never had to. Born into privilege, he has always walked above. On this night, he was brought back to Earth with more force and swiftness than Icharus melting in the Sun. Good on ya, Stepho.
In case you weren't yet convinced that Karl Rove may be somewhat out of toouch with those of us who face the mortgage wrath or the I'll-rent-'til-I-die regime, here's your opportunity.
So, is this court case in line with me being handed a "ten step program to better management" pamphlet that uses Psalms as its basis? Can I make him stop? Not that I would want to. It amuses me when co-workers approach me with management styles rooted in the Bible. Since I prefer to think that the Bible teaches anarchy when it comes to conformity and visulizing material gain. And it helps me to understand who all takes their jobs waaaaaay too seriously. I mean if you have that much need for bestseller metaphysical control over your work environment then you need to step away from the conference table and toward the waterbong.
Oh crap. Maybe you've seen this video. Maybe not, don't care. Chris Bliss juggles to the Beatles. Phenomenal. No other word. 'Simple' three ball tossing, but done to Golden Slumbers and into the finale of Abbey Road. Oh, it's worth it. Did I say fuck yet? Here: it's fucking great.
And one more note on Stephen Colbert: someone else in the blogosphere gets it. (yeah yeah, there's not only one. There's probably like three or four)
Bush thought he was going to la-di-da his way through a Rotary Roast and come out feeling all gushy and popular. What he got was a ke-bab-ing. And about time, too. Calvin Coolidge began this tradition for a reason. The reason was to let the "public" as it were remind us and the President that he is human. That he works a job and gets paid by us and he should never forget that we are his employer...okay, maybe that's not why this all started, but it shoulda been. people in power tend to forget what it might have been like before the Power. Bush never had to. Born into privilege, he has always walked above. On this night, he was brought back to Earth with more force and swiftness than Icharus melting in the Sun. Good on ya, Stepho.In case you weren't yet convinced that Karl Rove may be somewhat out of toouch with those of us who face the mortgage wrath or the I'll-rent-'til-I-die regime, here's your opportunity.
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
Colbert Gettin' Jiggy On Bush's Tush
Yeah! Fucking right fucking on! Bush doesn't like the cream pie facial? Too fucking bad! Did he think it would be twinkletoes like at the frat house? Is he that fucking arrogant? Did he assume that all speakers would be vetted (read that as censored) for content embarrassing to his Highness? Good on Stephen. Smackdown on the Royal Bitch. Bitchslap on Mr. "Oops, no WMD's under my desk". Intelligent skewering of Herr "We hit the trifecta". WWF bodyslam on Senor "Mission Accomplished".
Skewering comedy skit angers Bush and aides
By Paul Bedard
Posted 5/1/06
Comedy Central star Stephen Colbert's biting routine at the White House Correspondents Association dinner won a rare silent protest from Bush aides and supporters Saturday when several independently left before he finished.
"Colbert crossed the line," said one top Bush aide, who rushed out of the hotel as soon as Colbert finished. Another said that the president was visibly angered by the sharp lines that kept coming.
"I've been there before, and I can see that he is [angry]," said a former top aide. "He's got that look that he's ready to blow."
Colbert's routine was similar to what he does on his show, the Colbert Report, but much longer on the topic of Bush, suggesting that the president is out of touch with reality. Aides and reporters, however, said that it did not overshadow Bush's own funny routine, which featured an impersonator who told the audience what Bush was thinking when he spoke dull speech lines.
In fact, some aides crowed over reports that the president easily bested Colbert in the reviews of both comedy acts.
Heh. Bush bested Colbert? That's like saying Jessica Simpson has talent or Paris Hilton should be nominated for an Emmy. Or Tom Cruise isn't a nutcake. The only outer limits argument these guys could use in their defense is that the audience felt compelled (drinks were spiked?) to obligatorially laugh for Bush and didn't want to be seen guffawing at Colbert's truly funny, intelligent, ingenious zinging. oh well. let's see if I can find the second half of Colbert's routine for ya.
Part One.
Part Two.
Part Three.
This is from a different source than before (thanks to Atrios for this) and should cover the whole evening.
Jon Stewart weighed in with his critique of Colbert's performance.
The Huffington Post has the full transcript (plus, pissed off liberal critique). Be warned that the transcript is typed by someone who was a bit tired and coming down from their caffeine high.
Moving on, you know it's getting out of hand when even the Cato Institute begins criticising the Bush administration. The Press likes to call Cato libertarian, but it is much more conservative than that. If they're feeling nervous, then Bush and his handlers are truly losing control of their party. And, if you're like me, that's a very very very good thing. Neither party should ever lie down and let an idiot extremist steamroll or dutch-oven it.
Screw Amsterdam.
Skewering comedy skit angers Bush and aides
By Paul Bedard
Posted 5/1/06
Comedy Central star Stephen Colbert's biting routine at the White House Correspondents Association dinner won a rare silent protest from Bush aides and supporters Saturday when several independently left before he finished.
"Colbert crossed the line," said one top Bush aide, who rushed out of the hotel as soon as Colbert finished. Another said that the president was visibly angered by the sharp lines that kept coming.
"I've been there before, and I can see that he is [angry]," said a former top aide. "He's got that look that he's ready to blow."
Colbert's routine was similar to what he does on his show, the Colbert Report, but much longer on the topic of Bush, suggesting that the president is out of touch with reality. Aides and reporters, however, said that it did not overshadow Bush's own funny routine, which featured an impersonator who told the audience what Bush was thinking when he spoke dull speech lines.
In fact, some aides crowed over reports that the president easily bested Colbert in the reviews of both comedy acts.
Heh. Bush bested Colbert? That's like saying Jessica Simpson has talent or Paris Hilton should be nominated for an Emmy. Or Tom Cruise isn't a nutcake. The only outer limits argument these guys could use in their defense is that the audience felt compelled (drinks were spiked?) to obligatorially laugh for Bush and didn't want to be seen guffawing at Colbert's truly funny, intelligent, ingenious zinging. oh well. let's see if I can find the second half of Colbert's routine for ya.
Part One.
Part Two.
Part Three.
This is from a different source than before (thanks to Atrios for this) and should cover the whole evening.
Jon Stewart weighed in with his critique of Colbert's performance.
The Huffington Post has the full transcript (plus, pissed off liberal critique). Be warned that the transcript is typed by someone who was a bit tired and coming down from their caffeine high.
Moving on, you know it's getting out of hand when even the Cato Institute begins criticising the Bush administration. The Press likes to call Cato libertarian, but it is much more conservative than that. If they're feeling nervous, then Bush and his handlers are truly losing control of their party. And, if you're like me, that's a very very very good thing. Neither party should ever lie down and let an idiot extremist steamroll or dutch-oven it.
Screw Amsterdam.
Monday, May 01, 2006
Just Say No To Bad Porn
Just for you Zonthar: Stephen Colbert, Part II. (And, no, I was joking about the cutoff of the first part. I just thought it was funny that it was right at the Joe Wilson point and I couldn't find the second half of the tape at that point). By the way, I'd like to thank Steph for pointing out that the last Stephen Colbert segment came from some sort of crappy porn site and I promise you that I will endeavor in the future to bring you better porn site links if I possible can. I did not do proper research before linking and I am ashamed. Normally, I visit a porn site exhaustively again and again and again before recommending anything from it. This will not happen again. And again and again and again.
Was Valerie Plame, I mean Joe Wilson's wife (whew!), part of our clandestine spying on Iran and its attempts to obtain materials with which to make nuclear bombs? MSNBC claims to have spoken with unidentified intelligence officials who say it's so joe and that her outing has damaged our government's ability to moniter Iran and what it's up to. Go here and click on the video feed.
Well, ain't we having fun?
I could go on, but it's time for dinner and a nap. I'm getting old, you know.
Was Valerie Plame, I mean Joe Wilson's wife (whew!), part of our clandestine spying on Iran and its attempts to obtain materials with which to make nuclear bombs? MSNBC claims to have spoken with unidentified intelligence officials who say it's so joe and that her outing has damaged our government's ability to moniter Iran and what it's up to. Go here and click on the video feed.
Well, ain't we having fun?
I could go on, but it's time for dinner and a nap. I'm getting old, you know.
Sunday, April 30, 2006
Wizard's First Rule
Wizard's First Rule: people are stupid.
Bush is evidently claiming he doesn't have to enforce or follow any law he deems to be an encroachment on his interpretation of his Constitutional authority. Remember when he and his cronies began screaming during the Terri Schiavo case that the Supreme Court was interpreting the Constitution and it should be adhering to the words therein? Remember? Judicial activism and all of that nonsense? The Constitution is not an ever-evolving document of Important Thoughts and Beliefs to guide our young country by, but a strict set of laws? No? Yes? Cool with this ? No? Yes?
The Constitution clearly states that all Men are created equal. Nothing about women. And the number of slaves a Man owned determined how many votes he was allowed to cast. Back then, the Founding Fathers just didn't trust us nobodies who had no mega-income to cast a vote wisely. Therefore, only landowners with slaves were given the chance to engage in the Electoral process. A Man with a horse, plowshare and some rocky ground was looked at with disdain when it came to understanding this Important Voyage we as a Nation had embarked on.
It pretty much smells the same today. Those with ginormous amounts of cash buy influence, thereby buying votes, thereby ignoring what the common Man might think. And a woman as president? Unthinkable until Hillary rammed her First Lady decorum down the throats of every chauvinistic politician pig. Yet, still the Men scoff at her and anyone who dresses like her.
As for what makes a Man, when the Constitution was written there was only one color of Man. White. Tomorrow, many of our Not-Quite-A-Man bretheren will not be showing up to work as a protest against how they are treated based on the color of their skin. Bush has said "I don't like boycotts" when asked his feelings concerning this "national holiday" for non-Whites. (Of course, when tens of millions of people around the globe were protesting the impending invasion of Iraq, he called us "focus groups".)
Is tomorrow a boycott? Yes? No? Is it civil disobedience? Yes? No? Is it a very large group of people cutting off their noses to spite their faces? Yes? No? Many Anglo-owned large companies (hotel chains specifically) are demanding that these people ask for the day off beforehand. Should these people be forced to ask for and wait to be granted a day off in order to celebrate International Workers' Day? No? Yes?
We have a problem with immigration now in our country. Foreigners still want in at the same rate as always, but we no longer trust them. Our xenophobia is back with a vengeance. We Whites are scared of anyone who doesn't look exactly like us. We can tell the difference between an Arab and a Mexican and a Malaysian, but we no longer trust any of them based merely on the fact that their skins are more similar to each others than to ours.
So, basically what? This Democratic notion that we Whites think we invented and patented has progressed very well in many areas. Too well, I guess. The plaque on the Statue of Liberty needs to come down. We no longer accept the tired and oppressed and hungry unless they can prove they will be raped and murdered back home. Sometimes, not even then. The exception to this would be any foreigner of royal, noble, wealthy or influential descent. Those people are always welcome, because they will buttress the top 5% of our income level and will most likely vote with the Establishment.
Remember the Wizard's First Rule: people are stupid. We can't allow poor people into our country, because they might vote for those politicians who side with the needy. And those politicians are the ones who are working to bring this mighty giant to its knees and revert it to secondary global status. Poor people vote for equal rights, expanded medicare, universal healthcare, living wages, workers' rights, HUD funding, contraceptive access, unemployment and welfare rights, ad nauseum. They are stupid and we can't allow them to control our God-given right to preeminence over all. This idea of a melting pot was obviously a bad one. Our Puritan identity is dissolving and becoming a bastard mulatto of a child.
And Bush is the one at the top pushing to decide what laws he should obey and what he should not. Based on what will keep his kind in power no matter the cost to the rest of us who make this nation run as it has so well for 300 years. All of the obstacles we've encountered, either through hate or ignorance, we've managed to overcome and move forward. But Bush (at the behest of those who control him) is making a strong run for autocracy. And this run will continue to punish all of us. So long as we let it happen. When it comes down to it, skin color really doesn't play. That cloud of smoke is just...a cloud of smoke. He and his will crush and alienate any who stand in its way of claiming total power at the expense of most who got it there. And the demise of those who didn't.
Is genocide tantamount to terrorism? No? Yes? Is it worse? No? Yes? Because I think that we are witnessing the birth of a new form of it here in America. This time, though, it's not merely racial. It's also political. And theological. In a sense, the Trifecta.
addendum: you can go here for most of Stephen Colbert's White House Press Correspondents' Dinner speech, but it shuts down right when he is announcing that Joe Wilson and wife are in the audience. Which I found to be verrrrrrry interestink. As for the speech, it's fun to listen in and find out what the attendees would laugh at and what they would not. By the middle of the speech Bush was looking decidedly not too cool about the whole idea. I have to wonder if the Bush folk truly thought that Colbert is a Right Winger based on his show persona. Well, now they know.
Bush is evidently claiming he doesn't have to enforce or follow any law he deems to be an encroachment on his interpretation of his Constitutional authority. Remember when he and his cronies began screaming during the Terri Schiavo case that the Supreme Court was interpreting the Constitution and it should be adhering to the words therein? Remember? Judicial activism and all of that nonsense? The Constitution is not an ever-evolving document of Important Thoughts and Beliefs to guide our young country by, but a strict set of laws? No? Yes? Cool with this ? No? Yes?
The Constitution clearly states that all Men are created equal. Nothing about women. And the number of slaves a Man owned determined how many votes he was allowed to cast. Back then, the Founding Fathers just didn't trust us nobodies who had no mega-income to cast a vote wisely. Therefore, only landowners with slaves were given the chance to engage in the Electoral process. A Man with a horse, plowshare and some rocky ground was looked at with disdain when it came to understanding this Important Voyage we as a Nation had embarked on.
It pretty much smells the same today. Those with ginormous amounts of cash buy influence, thereby buying votes, thereby ignoring what the common Man might think. And a woman as president? Unthinkable until Hillary rammed her First Lady decorum down the throats of every chauvinistic politician pig. Yet, still the Men scoff at her and anyone who dresses like her.
As for what makes a Man, when the Constitution was written there was only one color of Man. White. Tomorrow, many of our Not-Quite-A-Man bretheren will not be showing up to work as a protest against how they are treated based on the color of their skin. Bush has said "I don't like boycotts" when asked his feelings concerning this "national holiday" for non-Whites. (Of course, when tens of millions of people around the globe were protesting the impending invasion of Iraq, he called us "focus groups".)
Is tomorrow a boycott? Yes? No? Is it civil disobedience? Yes? No? Is it a very large group of people cutting off their noses to spite their faces? Yes? No? Many Anglo-owned large companies (hotel chains specifically) are demanding that these people ask for the day off beforehand. Should these people be forced to ask for and wait to be granted a day off in order to celebrate International Workers' Day? No? Yes?
We have a problem with immigration now in our country. Foreigners still want in at the same rate as always, but we no longer trust them. Our xenophobia is back with a vengeance. We Whites are scared of anyone who doesn't look exactly like us. We can tell the difference between an Arab and a Mexican and a Malaysian, but we no longer trust any of them based merely on the fact that their skins are more similar to each others than to ours.
So, basically what? This Democratic notion that we Whites think we invented and patented has progressed very well in many areas. Too well, I guess. The plaque on the Statue of Liberty needs to come down. We no longer accept the tired and oppressed and hungry unless they can prove they will be raped and murdered back home. Sometimes, not even then. The exception to this would be any foreigner of royal, noble, wealthy or influential descent. Those people are always welcome, because they will buttress the top 5% of our income level and will most likely vote with the Establishment.
Remember the Wizard's First Rule: people are stupid. We can't allow poor people into our country, because they might vote for those politicians who side with the needy. And those politicians are the ones who are working to bring this mighty giant to its knees and revert it to secondary global status. Poor people vote for equal rights, expanded medicare, universal healthcare, living wages, workers' rights, HUD funding, contraceptive access, unemployment and welfare rights, ad nauseum. They are stupid and we can't allow them to control our God-given right to preeminence over all. This idea of a melting pot was obviously a bad one. Our Puritan identity is dissolving and becoming a bastard mulatto of a child.
And Bush is the one at the top pushing to decide what laws he should obey and what he should not. Based on what will keep his kind in power no matter the cost to the rest of us who make this nation run as it has so well for 300 years. All of the obstacles we've encountered, either through hate or ignorance, we've managed to overcome and move forward. But Bush (at the behest of those who control him) is making a strong run for autocracy. And this run will continue to punish all of us. So long as we let it happen. When it comes down to it, skin color really doesn't play. That cloud of smoke is just...a cloud of smoke. He and his will crush and alienate any who stand in its way of claiming total power at the expense of most who got it there. And the demise of those who didn't.
Is genocide tantamount to terrorism? No? Yes? Is it worse? No? Yes? Because I think that we are witnessing the birth of a new form of it here in America. This time, though, it's not merely racial. It's also political. And theological. In a sense, the Trifecta.
addendum: you can go here for most of Stephen Colbert's White House Press Correspondents' Dinner speech, but it shuts down right when he is announcing that Joe Wilson and wife are in the audience. Which I found to be verrrrrrry interestink. As for the speech, it's fun to listen in and find out what the attendees would laugh at and what they would not. By the middle of the speech Bush was looking decidedly not too cool about the whole idea. I have to wonder if the Bush folk truly thought that Colbert is a Right Winger based on his show persona. Well, now they know.
Saturday, April 29, 2006
saturday night slights
Heh. "Mission Impossible III" just got its first review.
Heh. So did Bush. Note, please, the difference between that article and this one. I do hope that the free Iraqis had time to watch the show and get a good chuckle or two since most of them are not working at the moment.
"There will be more tough fighting ahead in Iraq and more days of sacrifice and struggle," he [Bush] cautioned. "Yet, the enemies of freedom have suffered a real blow in recent days, and we have taken great strides on the march to victory." Really? What, pray tell, might those great strides be? Another partisan ruling party? The new rumors of partitioning the country into three states which separate the three main ethnic factions?
Love her or hate her, Susan Sarandon has been one of very, very few famous people (um, liberal ones, that is) to stick by her guns since she first strapped them on. Jane Fonda won't even speak out, because she fears she "carries too much baggage from the Vietnam war". For this I applaud Ms. Sarandon.
In the New Yawk Times there is a quick and poorly written editorial about a book recently published, which claims that Saddam's cooperation with the UN concerning weapons inspections actually helped the U.S. solidify its beliefs that Saddam was, in fact, not cooperating. That part I have no problem believing. What isn't written about in this editorial is that the UN inspectors were not kicked out by Saddam prior to our invasion. Rather, they were told to leave by us on the pretext that we were about to start bombing and we couldn't vouch for their safety. They were in Iraq and being given full cooperation by Saddam. No more "escorts", no more written itineraries beforehand. Full and unfettered access. But, if you remember, Bush claimed that they were still being misled and distracted by Saddam and that's why we knew he had WMDs hidden and why he was in violation of various UN sanctions.
As part of its routine Friday night dump (this is the evening which the White House knows is the best time of the weel to issue press statements, because most news agencies are done for the week since no one watches the news on Friday or Saturday and all of it will be old news by Monday) our administration let this SBD out. Now, I don't know that I necessarily have a problem with foreign companies owning American based work. What I find a little disturbing, though, is that (just like the nullified Port Authority deal) this is a British company selling to a Dubai company. What's going on here? Do we own anything anymore? Should we just outsource everything (including the Administration) and take up sportfishing fulltime? I just can't figure this out. I love trade among countries. It's good for competition, which is good for quality, which is good for keeping consumer prices fairly reasonable. But it seems we're no longer trading. We're abdicating. We are watching our job security and our futures being sold off to the highest bidders no matter which country they may live in. So long as it isn't ours. We scream about how migrants and illegal aliens are doing massive damage to medicare and welfare and minimum wages, but we do nothing to stop the outflux of regular jobs to foreign multi-nationals. We claim we don't want them here. They're taking jobs away from decent natural-born Americans. But we sit by and say nothing as our governemnt okays massive selloffs of entire companies and industries to foreign countries. Is it just me or does this balance seem slightly askew?
P.S. Page 54 of GetYourWarOn is up. Some of the sickest comicstrip shit you'll see this side of reality. Check it out, yo.
Plus, the WarNerd is back with a new expose. In case you haven't been reading my posts, he is a native of the 'No and writes for a very unPC Russia-based newszine. Good stuff no matter which side of the fence is rubbin' your crotch the bestest.
Heh. So did Bush. Note, please, the difference between that article and this one. I do hope that the free Iraqis had time to watch the show and get a good chuckle or two since most of them are not working at the moment.
"There will be more tough fighting ahead in Iraq and more days of sacrifice and struggle," he [Bush] cautioned. "Yet, the enemies of freedom have suffered a real blow in recent days, and we have taken great strides on the march to victory." Really? What, pray tell, might those great strides be? Another partisan ruling party? The new rumors of partitioning the country into three states which separate the three main ethnic factions?
Love her or hate her, Susan Sarandon has been one of very, very few famous people (um, liberal ones, that is) to stick by her guns since she first strapped them on. Jane Fonda won't even speak out, because she fears she "carries too much baggage from the Vietnam war". For this I applaud Ms. Sarandon.
In the New Yawk Times there is a quick and poorly written editorial about a book recently published, which claims that Saddam's cooperation with the UN concerning weapons inspections actually helped the U.S. solidify its beliefs that Saddam was, in fact, not cooperating. That part I have no problem believing. What isn't written about in this editorial is that the UN inspectors were not kicked out by Saddam prior to our invasion. Rather, they were told to leave by us on the pretext that we were about to start bombing and we couldn't vouch for their safety. They were in Iraq and being given full cooperation by Saddam. No more "escorts", no more written itineraries beforehand. Full and unfettered access. But, if you remember, Bush claimed that they were still being misled and distracted by Saddam and that's why we knew he had WMDs hidden and why he was in violation of various UN sanctions.
As part of its routine Friday night dump (this is the evening which the White House knows is the best time of the weel to issue press statements, because most news agencies are done for the week since no one watches the news on Friday or Saturday and all of it will be old news by Monday) our administration let this SBD out. Now, I don't know that I necessarily have a problem with foreign companies owning American based work. What I find a little disturbing, though, is that (just like the nullified Port Authority deal) this is a British company selling to a Dubai company. What's going on here? Do we own anything anymore? Should we just outsource everything (including the Administration) and take up sportfishing fulltime? I just can't figure this out. I love trade among countries. It's good for competition, which is good for quality, which is good for keeping consumer prices fairly reasonable. But it seems we're no longer trading. We're abdicating. We are watching our job security and our futures being sold off to the highest bidders no matter which country they may live in. So long as it isn't ours. We scream about how migrants and illegal aliens are doing massive damage to medicare and welfare and minimum wages, but we do nothing to stop the outflux of regular jobs to foreign multi-nationals. We claim we don't want them here. They're taking jobs away from decent natural-born Americans. But we sit by and say nothing as our governemnt okays massive selloffs of entire companies and industries to foreign countries. Is it just me or does this balance seem slightly askew?
P.S. Page 54 of GetYourWarOn is up. Some of the sickest comicstrip shit you'll see this side of reality. Check it out, yo.
Plus, the WarNerd is back with a new expose. In case you haven't been reading my posts, he is a native of the 'No and writes for a very unPC Russia-based newszine. Good stuff no matter which side of the fence is rubbin' your crotch the bestest.
Friday, April 28, 2006
Two Weeks' Notice
Neil Young's new album is out and he wants all of us to listen to it for free. Go here to check it out.
Chevron Corp.'s first-quarter profit soared 49 percent to $4 billion. Dumbya thinks it's cool. Didn't he claim to be an oilman in the past? Doesn't he still trade Christmas cards with some of them?
So, two weeks' notice was emailed to the boss at 4:45 this afternoon and I am taking my first full weekend off (not counting the Rogue debacle) since, I think, January. Seriously. What am I going to do? Clean, pack, drink, watch sports on tv, read, sleep, nap, watch movies, visit a coffee shop. How did I manage to get the whole weekend off? i made it known that I was not coming in to the office. Those co-workers who had business to give me did so today in order to help in my quest for temporary peace. I'll tell ya, ever since the staff meeting when the boss outed me on a comment I made in a private conversation the field guys have been cool with me. At first, there was a bit of tension, but I guess they figured out that my problem was not with them.
My lab tech is not happy with me, but that's because he knows I have protected him from the boss. And I got him his raise and paid certification testing. And I'm funny when I'm on the job. And I'm leaving. And I'm now Mr. Cellophane. Chicago fans will get that one. Next weekend I will hopefully get to go East and visit with my parents, brother and brother's family, and sister. The weekend after that I will be preparing for transit Southward, doing the Tattoo You and saying goodbye to a couple of workfriends. If I'm really lucky I'll get to spend a little time with my best buddy from my Seattle days. The Tattoo You trip will be fun. I plan on taking the Bremerton ferry over to Seattle, bussing it to the shop, doing the Deed, walking one block to one of my favorite gin joints (the Reading Gaol) and hoisting a Guinness for old time's sake. maybe that old geezer Richard will still be haunting the premises. He and I were comrades-in-arms when the Crossword was out. When I moved from Seattle back South in 2000 he gave me a pair of homemade birdfeeders as a parting gift. Worst. Birdfeeders. Ever. Looked like someone decapitated the Tin Man and hung the head in effigy. But it was a beautiful sentiment. As was the group blowjob I received from the female barstaff.
Okay, I made that last part up.
They took turns.
Okay, I made that up, too.
But I know they wanted to.
Okayyyyy, they didn't want to.
But only because they were all Lesbians.
I'm a Lesbian.
Chevron Corp.'s first-quarter profit soared 49 percent to $4 billion. Dumbya thinks it's cool. Didn't he claim to be an oilman in the past? Doesn't he still trade Christmas cards with some of them?
So, two weeks' notice was emailed to the boss at 4:45 this afternoon and I am taking my first full weekend off (not counting the Rogue debacle) since, I think, January. Seriously. What am I going to do? Clean, pack, drink, watch sports on tv, read, sleep, nap, watch movies, visit a coffee shop. How did I manage to get the whole weekend off? i made it known that I was not coming in to the office. Those co-workers who had business to give me did so today in order to help in my quest for temporary peace. I'll tell ya, ever since the staff meeting when the boss outed me on a comment I made in a private conversation the field guys have been cool with me. At first, there was a bit of tension, but I guess they figured out that my problem was not with them.
My lab tech is not happy with me, but that's because he knows I have protected him from the boss. And I got him his raise and paid certification testing. And I'm funny when I'm on the job. And I'm leaving. And I'm now Mr. Cellophane. Chicago fans will get that one. Next weekend I will hopefully get to go East and visit with my parents, brother and brother's family, and sister. The weekend after that I will be preparing for transit Southward, doing the Tattoo You and saying goodbye to a couple of workfriends. If I'm really lucky I'll get to spend a little time with my best buddy from my Seattle days. The Tattoo You trip will be fun. I plan on taking the Bremerton ferry over to Seattle, bussing it to the shop, doing the Deed, walking one block to one of my favorite gin joints (the Reading Gaol) and hoisting a Guinness for old time's sake. maybe that old geezer Richard will still be haunting the premises. He and I were comrades-in-arms when the Crossword was out. When I moved from Seattle back South in 2000 he gave me a pair of homemade birdfeeders as a parting gift. Worst. Birdfeeders. Ever. Looked like someone decapitated the Tin Man and hung the head in effigy. But it was a beautiful sentiment. As was the group blowjob I received from the female barstaff.
Okay, I made that last part up.
They took turns.
Okay, I made that up, too.
But I know they wanted to.
Okayyyyy, they didn't want to.
But only because they were all Lesbians.
I'm a Lesbian.
Thursday, April 27, 2006
SWACK! (Sealed With A CrotchKick)
Insider trading, anyone? Anyone? Bueller?:
“Since Racicot left the Montana governor’s office,” Corr writes, “he has been on the Burlington Northern Board of Directors where he receives $60,000 annually for those duties. He has also been paid an unknown amount for lobbying by the corporation.” According to a Securities and Exchange Commission filing, Corr writes: “On August 2, 2005, Marc Racicot bought 10,750 shares of Burlington Northern Santa Fe stock. The price was $30.00 a share, $322,500 his total cost. Later that day Racicot sold the same 10,750 shares for $594,797 at $55.33 a share. Which means his total profit for this little quickie was $272,297. Certainly that is nice work for a day or less if you can get it.”
An excellent article on how the Montana governor is taking on BNSF with both barrels over its history of creating toxic waste dumps and poisoning the environment. It's also an indictment of the "robber baron" mentality that scholars would have us believe died out decades ago. Maybe it did. Maybe I'm a cynic. Maybe I'm misconstruing "robber baron" with "opportunistic greedbot oil company".
Speaking of oil and the president (weren't we?) I sure hope this quote from Da Man himself is accurate:
"But then he got ahold of himself. "You just got to recognize there are limits to how much corn can be used for ethanol," he said, standing in front of a bucolic mural. "After all, we got to eat some."
As hard as it is for me to believe that this idiot still has a chance to walk free I am nevertheless continually dumbfounded by his complete lack of a grasp on ethics:
"[Enron CEO Kenneth]Lay obtained more than $70 million in loans from Enron throughout 2001 and repaid most with company stock, even as he encouraged employees to buy more shares...
...However, Lay did tell workers less than three months before Enron filed for bankruptcy protection that he had bought stock when, in fact, he had sold more shares than he bought."
So, have any of you ever felt unwanted, ignored, left out to freeze in the freezing cold where it is frozen? Welcome to my world. Though I am still Lab manager in title, I am no longer being consulted on any doings concerning the lab. I spend my days running tests (which is not a bad thing as I derive much joy from this) and waiting for the next decision to be made without my input. Today, my boss walked right past me without even ackowledging me to tell my lab tech that some guys would be coming in to fix the natural gas line to our new oven and what did he think about it. I get my revenge by saving my lunch break for the last hour of the day. And making sure that all tests are finished or taken as far as they can be and still be on time. He looks for weaknesses, I give him none. He attempts to joke with me when we are in front of people, I wait patiently for him to finish and ask if there's anything else he needs. I smile not, I am Le Homme Seriouxe et Professionale. I give my two week notice tomorrow by email at 4:55 PM. Oh yeah. I got a phone call at work today from the former owner of a lab we bought. He gave my name to a competitor that is looking for a Lab Manager. I had to inform him that I was moving. Then, he mentioned a huge month long asphalt job in August and did I think I could take a break from my company and come back up to help him out? 15 minutes later I got a call from the competitor...the owner no less. He didn't even offer an interview. He offered, instead, $50,000 a year, low stress, clerical and client massaging only. In Tacoma. I repeated my basic problem with this to him and got "well, if you change your mind in the next month, just call me. Any time. If I'm not in, tell them who you are and they'll give you my private number". 1 and 1/2 months ago I would have jumped at this. Snapped at it. No question. Not now, unfortunately. But it does tell me that very experienced lab personnel are at an all-time premium. And there's the plain fact: no one but a masochist stays within the lab environment for as long as I have. Lab techs are looked at as performing monkeys. But when one of us sticks it out we become very, very valuable. So, I don't take the offer, but I walk away with a very flattering image of myself. Cool. Nice to know that some people value my abilities. Not my boss, but some people. An hour later, I was asked very seriously by a fellow employee from another office up here what my asking price is to keep me from moving. I couldn't even answer him without laughing. I had to tell him it's not about the money. It's about peace of mind and feeling vital and living somewhere that the arts thrives. And being able to stumble home from the Arts without getting a ticket. I'll take my souvenier with me on may 13th. But when another office is actively seeking to deplete mine of talent it's time for me to go far, far away. My boss may suck, but the bloodletting inter-rivalry warfare that goes on up here is far worse. Plus, my office is only still open for as long as a decent-sized competitor doesn't come chomping along. Sad. The office is run by a man with Small Man's Syndrome and a completely egonormous fear of failure. And his so-called compatriots are just waiting for him to knuckle under. I won't be here for that.
I'll be drinking newcastles at Livingstone's and making a fool of myself at Open Mic.
“Since Racicot left the Montana governor’s office,” Corr writes, “he has been on the Burlington Northern Board of Directors where he receives $60,000 annually for those duties. He has also been paid an unknown amount for lobbying by the corporation.” According to a Securities and Exchange Commission filing, Corr writes: “On August 2, 2005, Marc Racicot bought 10,750 shares of Burlington Northern Santa Fe stock. The price was $30.00 a share, $322,500 his total cost. Later that day Racicot sold the same 10,750 shares for $594,797 at $55.33 a share. Which means his total profit for this little quickie was $272,297. Certainly that is nice work for a day or less if you can get it.”
An excellent article on how the Montana governor is taking on BNSF with both barrels over its history of creating toxic waste dumps and poisoning the environment. It's also an indictment of the "robber baron" mentality that scholars would have us believe died out decades ago. Maybe it did. Maybe I'm a cynic. Maybe I'm misconstruing "robber baron" with "opportunistic greedbot oil company".
Speaking of oil and the president (weren't we?) I sure hope this quote from Da Man himself is accurate:
"But then he got ahold of himself. "You just got to recognize there are limits to how much corn can be used for ethanol," he said, standing in front of a bucolic mural. "After all, we got to eat some."
As hard as it is for me to believe that this idiot still has a chance to walk free I am nevertheless continually dumbfounded by his complete lack of a grasp on ethics:
"[Enron CEO Kenneth]Lay obtained more than $70 million in loans from Enron throughout 2001 and repaid most with company stock, even as he encouraged employees to buy more shares...
...However, Lay did tell workers less than three months before Enron filed for bankruptcy protection that he had bought stock when, in fact, he had sold more shares than he bought."
So, have any of you ever felt unwanted, ignored, left out to freeze in the freezing cold where it is frozen? Welcome to my world. Though I am still Lab manager in title, I am no longer being consulted on any doings concerning the lab. I spend my days running tests (which is not a bad thing as I derive much joy from this) and waiting for the next decision to be made without my input. Today, my boss walked right past me without even ackowledging me to tell my lab tech that some guys would be coming in to fix the natural gas line to our new oven and what did he think about it. I get my revenge by saving my lunch break for the last hour of the day. And making sure that all tests are finished or taken as far as they can be and still be on time. He looks for weaknesses, I give him none. He attempts to joke with me when we are in front of people, I wait patiently for him to finish and ask if there's anything else he needs. I smile not, I am Le Homme Seriouxe et Professionale. I give my two week notice tomorrow by email at 4:55 PM. Oh yeah. I got a phone call at work today from the former owner of a lab we bought. He gave my name to a competitor that is looking for a Lab Manager. I had to inform him that I was moving. Then, he mentioned a huge month long asphalt job in August and did I think I could take a break from my company and come back up to help him out? 15 minutes later I got a call from the competitor...the owner no less. He didn't even offer an interview. He offered, instead, $50,000 a year, low stress, clerical and client massaging only. In Tacoma. I repeated my basic problem with this to him and got "well, if you change your mind in the next month, just call me. Any time. If I'm not in, tell them who you are and they'll give you my private number". 1 and 1/2 months ago I would have jumped at this. Snapped at it. No question. Not now, unfortunately. But it does tell me that very experienced lab personnel are at an all-time premium. And there's the plain fact: no one but a masochist stays within the lab environment for as long as I have. Lab techs are looked at as performing monkeys. But when one of us sticks it out we become very, very valuable. So, I don't take the offer, but I walk away with a very flattering image of myself. Cool. Nice to know that some people value my abilities. Not my boss, but some people. An hour later, I was asked very seriously by a fellow employee from another office up here what my asking price is to keep me from moving. I couldn't even answer him without laughing. I had to tell him it's not about the money. It's about peace of mind and feeling vital and living somewhere that the arts thrives. And being able to stumble home from the Arts without getting a ticket. I'll take my souvenier with me on may 13th. But when another office is actively seeking to deplete mine of talent it's time for me to go far, far away. My boss may suck, but the bloodletting inter-rivalry warfare that goes on up here is far worse. Plus, my office is only still open for as long as a decent-sized competitor doesn't come chomping along. Sad. The office is run by a man with Small Man's Syndrome and a completely egonormous fear of failure. And his so-called compatriots are just waiting for him to knuckle under. I won't be here for that.
I'll be drinking newcastles at Livingstone's and making a fool of myself at Open Mic.
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Ohhhh, Jaded Ed. Lookee What I'm About To do Here!
Hmmm. What reason would I have for posting this picture? Jade? Any guesses?
Movin' On
Thanks for the nice words everybody. It seems that I did my grieving when Gramma first collapsed and it was expected that she wouldn't last even as long as she did. Fortunately, she had a chance to regain her senses for a bit and my Aunt Ann had some time in which to talk with her before Gramma faded away.
But enough of that. I think Gramma will forgive me for moving on with my blogging.
Have you heard of these idiots? Evidently, protesting the war isn't enough. These "people" seem to think that protesting at the funerals of slain soldiers is proper etiquette, because (as they put it) the soldiers are fighting for a country that condones homosexuality. I've been aware of this for about a month now. Finally, a governor has passed a law that prevents them from coming any closer than 500 feet of a cemetary funeral. There is also a group of biker vets who station themselves between these freaks and the funeral services in order to deter these slimeballs. Sheesh. Why is it that the radical fundies can't just stay and pull the blinds? Or simply refuse to do business with anyone they don't approve of? Like the crapola headline making over Terri Schiavo and her husband's bid to let her die in peace. Which doctors eventually proved was the right choice once they'd done an autopsy and found that most of her brain was oatmeal. Just like they had said it was all along. Note to self: write note to self about how no one is allowed to circumvent or change personal decisions about how I want to be allowed to die if I ever get to the point that I cannot live without artificial means. But where was I? Oh yes: the morons. God is killing these soldiers, huh? Says who? And why'd God wait so long? There have been Gays in this country since it was founded by our bible-thumping Caucasian ancestors, um, (counting on fingers and toes) a really, really long time ago. Was God saving it all up for one big blow-out KMart special massacre? Or does really care so long as you believe and follow? I wouldn't know. Why do they?
I think we should learn a lesson from some of this. Maybe not all, but definately from the fact that a People can make a difference if it speaks with one voice. While no one People is ever truly without factions and their dissonent demands, great things can happen when communication and cooperation are achieved. Nepal may not stand as is, most likely it won't, but for a moment they can celebrate and bask in the joy of knowing that a loud enough voice can make the mighty quake.
He tried to avoid war with Iraq "diplomatically to the max". Wha...??? And if he had it to do over again, he would. And the Almighty guides his hand in foreign policy. This is the man who helms our ship. This man is a prime example of why some captains were forced to walk the plank. Were he Odysseus he wouldn't have made it past the Sirens. I take that back, he would never have made it past the farewell feast. A forest of arrows would have perforated his heart halfway through his speech. To the max. Jeez, no one even says that anymore. How out of touch can one person be? Not only on the realities of war, foreign policy and running a country, but on street lingo. Is this guy's brain stuck in a formaldahyde jar in some dusty old frat house? Does he think that using the phrase "to the max" makes him sound hip? Or is that the extent of his vocababerry? My goodness. I can't wait to see the presidential library that is created for his notes. It'll make Zoolander's School For Kids Who Can't Read Good seem like the Taj Mahal of literacy.
Former National Security Advisor Zibiga-, Znibre-, Zanibr-, um, let's just call him Chipoodle, warns against attacking Iran without some sort of legal reason and without the consent of Congress. He actually--gasp!-says such an attack would be worthy of impeachment. However, Donald the Duck Rumsfeld is now claiming that attacking Afghanistan and Iraq was part of a larger strategy aimed at curbing Iran's "extreme impulses". Really? Hmmm, don't remember that as a justification during the runup to either one. I remember mushroom cloud, WMDs, links to al-quaeda and 9/11, Valerie Plame, male prostitute posing as a White house reporter, porn actress invited by the White House to a Bush fundraiser, secret detention camps, torture, wiretapping, paying off the Press, "you're either with us or against us", two "stolen" elections, massive surpluses turned into even more massive deficits, tax cuts for the obscenely wealthy, record high gas prices. But no Iran. Now, it's Iran. Go figure. This is not to say that Iran wouldn't love to flop a nuke in Israel's or our direction given the chance. But I doubt they would do it for the same reason we haven't done it. Bad PR. Very bad. Plus, they throw one at us, we throw 50 back. It would be a one shot deal for them and any other country within a 25,000 mile cicumference. Which is roughly the size of, oh say, the Earth. As an example. Hypothetically speaking, of course, because there is no way to judge the size of the Earth since it is flat and the center of the Universe. According to NASA's new leader. And Ann Coulter. And Rush Limbaugh. And Sean Hannity. And Bill O'Reilly. And whoever is in charge of the EPA this month. And God according to those who obviously know. And the idiots who want to protest at funerals.
Which brings us full circle (unlike the flat Earth). And it is time for me to stop and get back to Blade II. Man, do I love this movie series. Completely gross, uber-violent and good kinky fun. Plus, it's all true.
But enough of that. I think Gramma will forgive me for moving on with my blogging.
Have you heard of these idiots? Evidently, protesting the war isn't enough. These "people" seem to think that protesting at the funerals of slain soldiers is proper etiquette, because (as they put it) the soldiers are fighting for a country that condones homosexuality. I've been aware of this for about a month now. Finally, a governor has passed a law that prevents them from coming any closer than 500 feet of a cemetary funeral. There is also a group of biker vets who station themselves between these freaks and the funeral services in order to deter these slimeballs. Sheesh. Why is it that the radical fundies can't just stay and pull the blinds? Or simply refuse to do business with anyone they don't approve of? Like the crapola headline making over Terri Schiavo and her husband's bid to let her die in peace. Which doctors eventually proved was the right choice once they'd done an autopsy and found that most of her brain was oatmeal. Just like they had said it was all along. Note to self: write note to self about how no one is allowed to circumvent or change personal decisions about how I want to be allowed to die if I ever get to the point that I cannot live without artificial means. But where was I? Oh yes: the morons. God is killing these soldiers, huh? Says who? And why'd God wait so long? There have been Gays in this country since it was founded by our bible-thumping Caucasian ancestors, um, (counting on fingers and toes) a really, really long time ago. Was God saving it all up for one big blow-out KMart special massacre? Or does really care so long as you believe and follow? I wouldn't know. Why do they?
I think we should learn a lesson from some of this. Maybe not all, but definately from the fact that a People can make a difference if it speaks with one voice. While no one People is ever truly without factions and their dissonent demands, great things can happen when communication and cooperation are achieved. Nepal may not stand as is, most likely it won't, but for a moment they can celebrate and bask in the joy of knowing that a loud enough voice can make the mighty quake.
He tried to avoid war with Iraq "diplomatically to the max". Wha...??? And if he had it to do over again, he would. And the Almighty guides his hand in foreign policy. This is the man who helms our ship. This man is a prime example of why some captains were forced to walk the plank. Were he Odysseus he wouldn't have made it past the Sirens. I take that back, he would never have made it past the farewell feast. A forest of arrows would have perforated his heart halfway through his speech. To the max. Jeez, no one even says that anymore. How out of touch can one person be? Not only on the realities of war, foreign policy and running a country, but on street lingo. Is this guy's brain stuck in a formaldahyde jar in some dusty old frat house? Does he think that using the phrase "to the max" makes him sound hip? Or is that the extent of his vocababerry? My goodness. I can't wait to see the presidential library that is created for his notes. It'll make Zoolander's School For Kids Who Can't Read Good seem like the Taj Mahal of literacy.
Former National Security Advisor Zibiga-, Znibre-, Zanibr-, um, let's just call him Chipoodle, warns against attacking Iran without some sort of legal reason and without the consent of Congress. He actually--gasp!-says such an attack would be worthy of impeachment. However, Donald the Duck Rumsfeld is now claiming that attacking Afghanistan and Iraq was part of a larger strategy aimed at curbing Iran's "extreme impulses". Really? Hmmm, don't remember that as a justification during the runup to either one. I remember mushroom cloud, WMDs, links to al-quaeda and 9/11, Valerie Plame, male prostitute posing as a White house reporter, porn actress invited by the White House to a Bush fundraiser, secret detention camps, torture, wiretapping, paying off the Press, "you're either with us or against us", two "stolen" elections, massive surpluses turned into even more massive deficits, tax cuts for the obscenely wealthy, record high gas prices. But no Iran. Now, it's Iran. Go figure. This is not to say that Iran wouldn't love to flop a nuke in Israel's or our direction given the chance. But I doubt they would do it for the same reason we haven't done it. Bad PR. Very bad. Plus, they throw one at us, we throw 50 back. It would be a one shot deal for them and any other country within a 25,000 mile cicumference. Which is roughly the size of, oh say, the Earth. As an example. Hypothetically speaking, of course, because there is no way to judge the size of the Earth since it is flat and the center of the Universe. According to NASA's new leader. And Ann Coulter. And Rush Limbaugh. And Sean Hannity. And Bill O'Reilly. And whoever is in charge of the EPA this month. And God according to those who obviously know. And the idiots who want to protest at funerals.
Which brings us full circle (unlike the flat Earth). And it is time for me to stop and get back to Blade II. Man, do I love this movie series. Completely gross, uber-violent and good kinky fun. Plus, it's all true.
Monday, April 24, 2006
Rest In Peace, Gramma
Gramma died yesterday. At 2:15 or 2:20 PM, depending on whose email I want to believe. It's a relief to all of the family, because she no longer recognized anyone and couldn't communicate. She, also, had requested some time ago that, should this situation arise, no feeding tube or "heroic efforts" be administered. So, she seems to have passed peacefully. She was 102 years old.
I think , no, I believe that this will help my family to come back together somewhat. Gramma was very popular with everyone, because she made no bones about unconditional love. She practiced it always. A pat on the hand, a hug for no reason other than a hug sounded like a good idea, a place on the couch to sit next to her, constant interest in what was happening in our lives, simple gifts to simply make us smile.
She came from the old school of matriarchs. Her childhood was one of poverty on a farm, scraping by to make ends meet. I've written about the quilt she gave me two years ago. It was made by her mother entirely from scraps of wornout clothing that the family owned. A Mid-Westerner to the core, she knew how to can preserves and preserve cans. She read her Bible diligently and always found something of interest in the passages she must certainly have memorized. She taught me the love of good raspberry jam. She was scrappy and cantankerous, two traits she passed on to her daughter and then to me.
She was a teacher. She was a homemaker. A mother. A wife. A friend. A disciplinarian. And she was a Lady, always and foremost. Manners were paramount, language proper. Dinner was dinner, supper was supper. A little snack in the afternoon was just biding time.
My strongest memory will remain those mornings when she and granddad visited during the summers and stayed in the guest room. I would run out and have breakfast with them, because she would smother raspberry jam on my toast and they would read from the Good News Bible while I looked at the stick figure pictures.
I will also always remember my summer visit to their house in Prairie Du Sac in Wisconsin. Their house was on the river and we would float on innertubes waiting for a boat to go by and create swells. There was a tree swing we played on, but you had to watch out for the concrete barrier where land met water. And there was a very unfriendly goose that would chase you and bite you if you came too close to it...which we did often (maybe more often that coincidence would warrant). I remember my granddad and I digging for grubs to bait hooks with and the painful feeling of being pinched by one. Nasty little buggers.
And I will remember my Gramma sleeping on the overstuffed chair at Beatty's Books in Seattle and the Beattys taking care to ensure that her nap would not be interrupted while my Mom went crazy wandering their store and looking through their entire huge collection of used books.
And her comment that day, "Your mother and her 'organized' outings...".
My Gramma was 102 years old. Her ashes will be buried next to Granddad's and they will be together again forever. And my Granddad is probably saying, "About darned time...what took you so long?".
Being a Lady, she may just reply, "Oh, shove over and bust out the jam".
April 23, 2006.
I think , no, I believe that this will help my family to come back together somewhat. Gramma was very popular with everyone, because she made no bones about unconditional love. She practiced it always. A pat on the hand, a hug for no reason other than a hug sounded like a good idea, a place on the couch to sit next to her, constant interest in what was happening in our lives, simple gifts to simply make us smile.
She came from the old school of matriarchs. Her childhood was one of poverty on a farm, scraping by to make ends meet. I've written about the quilt she gave me two years ago. It was made by her mother entirely from scraps of wornout clothing that the family owned. A Mid-Westerner to the core, she knew how to can preserves and preserve cans. She read her Bible diligently and always found something of interest in the passages she must certainly have memorized. She taught me the love of good raspberry jam. She was scrappy and cantankerous, two traits she passed on to her daughter and then to me.
She was a teacher. She was a homemaker. A mother. A wife. A friend. A disciplinarian. And she was a Lady, always and foremost. Manners were paramount, language proper. Dinner was dinner, supper was supper. A little snack in the afternoon was just biding time.
My strongest memory will remain those mornings when she and granddad visited during the summers and stayed in the guest room. I would run out and have breakfast with them, because she would smother raspberry jam on my toast and they would read from the Good News Bible while I looked at the stick figure pictures.
I will also always remember my summer visit to their house in Prairie Du Sac in Wisconsin. Their house was on the river and we would float on innertubes waiting for a boat to go by and create swells. There was a tree swing we played on, but you had to watch out for the concrete barrier where land met water. And there was a very unfriendly goose that would chase you and bite you if you came too close to it...which we did often (maybe more often that coincidence would warrant). I remember my granddad and I digging for grubs to bait hooks with and the painful feeling of being pinched by one. Nasty little buggers.
And I will remember my Gramma sleeping on the overstuffed chair at Beatty's Books in Seattle and the Beattys taking care to ensure that her nap would not be interrupted while my Mom went crazy wandering their store and looking through their entire huge collection of used books.
And her comment that day, "Your mother and her 'organized' outings...".
My Gramma was 102 years old. Her ashes will be buried next to Granddad's and they will be together again forever. And my Granddad is probably saying, "About darned time...what took you so long?".
Being a Lady, she may just reply, "Oh, shove over and bust out the jam".
April 23, 2006.
Sunday, April 23, 2006
Thank You For Not Speaking
Christopher Hitchens penned the now uber-popular Thank You For Smoking movie (and I don't even know if it's come out yet). Chris is not a personal friend of mine and for good reason. Back in '92 when I was but a young pup living in Seattle, he walked into a regular beer stop of mine at First and Stewart. This stop was home to a good number of pensioners who lived above the stop. It was became home to a good number of Hollywood types who knew this stop from previous movie shoots. On Sundays I would wander down and settle in with the New York Times Sunday Crossword and a handful of pints of stout. I would normally spend three or four hours there puzzling and drinking. During the week I might stop by the stop for one or two. Like I said, occasionally a "celebrity" there. Which was actually damn annoying (with the exception of Jeff Bridges) to someone like me who "wants to be left alone" but still "wants to gawk like a gopher". I was warned away from even making eye contact in the bar's very long mirror with Sean Penn. He was at the end when I walked in, sitting at the bar with a stout in front of him and staring off into space. I winked at the bartender and, when she came over, I ordered my first pint and asked her if he was who I thought he was. She didn't even respond vocally, just shook her head and warned me with her eyes. 'nuff said. I left him alone and did my crossword.
So, what is it about the term "crossword"? The good ones only intelligent people finish. And when I say intelligent I mean snob. Many of us work the puzzle in order to challenge our braincells over in the English department. A few of us finish them. A few of us finish them in no time at all. The fastest I've finished a New York Times Sunday Crossword puzzle is 1 hour, 47 minutes. It's, also, the only time I've finished a New York Times Sunday Crossword puzzle without help from the other crosswordflies. Another good pub where I could find my type of drinker was near 65th and Third. A block up from Slave To The Needle (where I had my photos fleshed). Now, that was a bunch of convivial cheaters. No one would help another if there was the chance of not finishing first. Eventually, though, stubborness would give way to desperation and answers would be paid for with beer. Mind you, this was Sunday and during the lull from 12:00 PM and 4:00 PM.
But I was talking about Chris Hutchins and the Virginia Inn. And how I stood there with my date (the bartender...man, was she hot and aggressive) talking to Kiefer Sutherland about his almost dad who lived upstairs. Kiefer didn't know this and was surprised. Hell, so was I. When Bridges was asked by his table full of buds and "dates" where Kiefer was, he replied "Probably getting rolled in some alley by now". I saw Kiefer with a bottle of Tums sticking out of his denim jacket breast pocket at 2:30 on a Sunday afternoon, looking very disheveled. I was impressed. I knew right then that I liked him no matter who he had slept with and I never would. Julia Roberts, for crying out loud. Winona Ryder, for Pete's sake. So far as I knew, no Sandra Bullock. That is why he lives to this day. I'd go after Jesse James, but did you know the fucker has a posse? And they rob banks and shit? Hell, I'd do him for a piece of that action. And his car kicks the absolute crankoil out of mine? Like the baboon bachelor male, I wait my time to infiltrate and subvert. In the meantime I nosh on the perfectly shaped banana. Hi, APJ.
Right. So, Christopher walks in and asks for a table by the window. no one is sitting at either of the window tables. He also asks that no one smoke while he's there. If a clearer sign could be given to light up I wouldn't know what it is. So, we all smoked. There were a couple of people who didn't smoke, but lit up for that one. Hutchins took it with good grace and lit up himself. The immolation was already underway, though. So, we made fun of the waitress instead. We got many anecdotes dropped by Chris himself. Most were selfcongratulatory. Most were funny.
And, so, when his one book that I thought was funny, comes out as a movie I wonder if the film industry can do it justice. I hope so.
By the way, I never once saw Cameron Crowe hanging out in or snooping on the Virginia Inn. And I was a regular there during part of that time. I remember when they shot a scene or two there. And I remember when it became a no-smoking fern bar in the aftermath of the movie's success and the pensioners no longer went there to while away the hours. Pity.
So, what is it about the term "crossword"? The good ones only intelligent people finish. And when I say intelligent I mean snob. Many of us work the puzzle in order to challenge our braincells over in the English department. A few of us finish them. A few of us finish them in no time at all. The fastest I've finished a New York Times Sunday Crossword puzzle is 1 hour, 47 minutes. It's, also, the only time I've finished a New York Times Sunday Crossword puzzle without help from the other crosswordflies. Another good pub where I could find my type of drinker was near 65th and Third. A block up from Slave To The Needle (where I had my photos fleshed). Now, that was a bunch of convivial cheaters. No one would help another if there was the chance of not finishing first. Eventually, though, stubborness would give way to desperation and answers would be paid for with beer. Mind you, this was Sunday and during the lull from 12:00 PM and 4:00 PM.
But I was talking about Chris Hutchins and the Virginia Inn. And how I stood there with my date (the bartender...man, was she hot and aggressive) talking to Kiefer Sutherland about his almost dad who lived upstairs. Kiefer didn't know this and was surprised. Hell, so was I. When Bridges was asked by his table full of buds and "dates" where Kiefer was, he replied "Probably getting rolled in some alley by now". I saw Kiefer with a bottle of Tums sticking out of his denim jacket breast pocket at 2:30 on a Sunday afternoon, looking very disheveled. I was impressed. I knew right then that I liked him no matter who he had slept with and I never would. Julia Roberts, for crying out loud. Winona Ryder, for Pete's sake. So far as I knew, no Sandra Bullock. That is why he lives to this day. I'd go after Jesse James, but did you know the fucker has a posse? And they rob banks and shit? Hell, I'd do him for a piece of that action. And his car kicks the absolute crankoil out of mine? Like the baboon bachelor male, I wait my time to infiltrate and subvert. In the meantime I nosh on the perfectly shaped banana. Hi, APJ.
Right. So, Christopher walks in and asks for a table by the window. no one is sitting at either of the window tables. He also asks that no one smoke while he's there. If a clearer sign could be given to light up I wouldn't know what it is. So, we all smoked. There were a couple of people who didn't smoke, but lit up for that one. Hutchins took it with good grace and lit up himself. The immolation was already underway, though. So, we made fun of the waitress instead. We got many anecdotes dropped by Chris himself. Most were selfcongratulatory. Most were funny.
And, so, when his one book that I thought was funny, comes out as a movie I wonder if the film industry can do it justice. I hope so.
By the way, I never once saw Cameron Crowe hanging out in or snooping on the Virginia Inn. And I was a regular there during part of that time. I remember when they shot a scene or two there. And I remember when it became a no-smoking fern bar in the aftermath of the movie's success and the pensioners no longer went there to while away the hours. Pity.
Saturday, April 22, 2006
Pop Quiz: Who's Your Daddy?
Leo Dicaprio was hurt today. Unlike in previous years when he was snubbed for "much deserved" Oscar notice, this incident appears to be physical in nature. Or so they are saying. While the official version from his publicist is that he was injured while running, anonymous reports are surfacing that he has begun having Red Carpet flashbacks and, during these siezures, lashing out at any critic who failed to mention him as a darkhorse for "The Island". Roger Ebert is rumored to have immediately hired a phalanx of bodyguards in the event that Dicaprio's new movie does anything more than make young girls moist. No word yet on whether Dicaprio's new movie "Blood Diamond" is about illegal gem dealing in Africa or an autobiography on his attempts to rectally turn a lump of coal into a diamond.
Kirk Cameron, that former hottie teen movie and tv star, has astounding proof that Darwinism is a crock of gorilla poo poo. Using a banana, no less, to prove his point about its perfect shape for entering the mouth, he debunks every scientist ever born. You gotta watch it. It'll change your life. I know it changed mine. But make sure to fast forward the clip to about the 3:30 mark. Otherwise, you'll be sending someone money as fast as you can write the check. (hat tip to Crooks and Liars for this one).
P.S. I am waiting with bated breath for his next installment using a very friendly python and a traffic cone to prove just exactly how Eve brought about the downfall of the Garden of Eden.
My Name Is Rachel Corrie is being read publicly at an undisclosed location in Canada. This is the play that was censored in New York as being insensitive to Jews in a time of turmoil. it's a simple premise. Young woman goes to Palestine, tries to stand in the way of an Israeli bulldozer intent on destroying a palestinian family's home and is crushed to death by the 'dozer driver. The fact that this reading has to be kept a secret says a lot. Does it matter that the driver claims he couldn't see her? Does it matter that she was wearing a bright safety vest and there were dozens of other protesters present? Does it matter that the Israeli police tried to censor all news interviews with the driver? Or does it just matter that protection of one side outweighs protection of another? Or does it simply not matter at all? By most accounts the play as written is not so interesting. It relies mainly on diaries and notes written by this young lady who, were she not so damn photogenic, might not have even made historical footnote status. But the fact that this reading is being kept so secret and attendance is invite only says something about the extreme polarity which continues to exist between those who support Israel no matter the cost or level of justification and those who support the Palestinians with the same caveats.
So, someone remind me again why our Glorious Leader isn't threatening to invade and fix Nepal? Pro-Democracy protesters, a monarchy, violent crackdowns on demonstrations and marches...oh wait a minute. Isn't Nepal like 40 miles away from China? And its sovereignty is like disputed by China? And that Chinese guy Hu (who?) is actually here in the good ol' US of A on a goodwill tour? And we're like really scared of China's burgeoning influence globally? And the fact that it seems to own more of our country than we do? And it can single-handedly change the global currency from the dollar to the euro? In fact, aren't we so scared that we had a Chinese journalist jailed for speaking out at a Rose Garden press conference just the other day at the same time that Bush was promoting free speech in China? And we had a CNN reporter removed from a photo-op for asking one question?
Coca-Cola is being targeted in India for "hoarding water". More specifically, it is being accused of depleting needed water supplies as it churns out its tasty beverage. Communities living near its bottling factories are increasingly uncomfortable with the fact that water supply levels have been dropping drastically since Coke's factories moved into their neighborhoods. And the drought season is about to hit. Now, we all know that sodas do not slake thirst. After all, their main ingredient is sugar. And sugar dehydrates. As does caffeine. So, Coke's new mantra "Let Them Drink Coke And Shut The Fuck Up" seems to be less than ingenuous. What I do love about this company is that long after cocaine's classification as a Level 1 controlled substance, the company still touts it as part of its masthead. Ah, good times. Like Robitussin when it contained morphine. And actually worked to relieve symptoms of pain. Bring back Laudanum, I say. One question, though. Is Pepsi so much more oriented to the needs of the world than Coke? I hear nothing about Pepsi-Co's involvement in anything nefarious. Is it really just Coke or is Coke simply the most obvious jugular?
Gerald Ford's still alive?!? What the fu--? And he's defending Rumsfeld? And he claims we're "at a time of war"? Cool. The Stumbler's back. Ford did more for pratfalls and Vaudeville comedy than any other president in history. Jack Tripper would never have been given the mighty laughter he got were it not for Ford. Neither would Andy Dick's character in NewsRadio. A president prone to slips, slops, mishaps, missteps and imaginary escalators is a president to be cherished.
Seriously, what the fu--?!? Some people just need to know when to "go gently into that good night". All Ford will do by piping up is bolster the legitimate claims that the Rethuglican party is trotting out every fossil it can find in order to maintain some semblance of smokescreen behind which it can hide while it attempts to reassemble its strike team before the November elections. Starting with Karl Rove gatting back to what he does best: dirty smear campaigns. Looking forward to it, myself.
You, too, can sign a petition to stop the government from okaying research into deploying "killer fungi" as a weapon. Or not.
Katherine Harris, who I happen to have a trading card of, seems to not have the best filtering process when it comes to who she sleeps with. Not that my history shows the best judgement, either. Man, I remember the time I was whacked out on Coke (the other one) and had sex with some barfly in the cab of my truck in between games of pool. It was a tournament, $5 entry and the winner walked away with $200. 5 rounds and I was out in the fourth. My backscratch and spin were were on fire that night, but so was the powder. She was, um, not Sandra Bullock. She was not even Lynn Cheney. And defumigatedly not Ann Coulter. She was, however, drunk and loose. And 20 years older. So, anyway, here we have Katherine Harris accepting insider trader head for something she may or may have not done. I ask you, what's the difference? These K Street traders pay for anything you could ever ask for. Do you think for one moment that the politician is going to take it all and then say no? I call Bovine Bowel Movement on that.
60 Minutes tomorrow night. Check it out. Another former CIA high ranker has his say. And this time it gets nasty.
"They were given the intel that no weapons of mass destruction existed. And they said, we don't care anymore. It's about regime change".
'Nuff for now. I'm on Skype until I fall over. It's 1:34 PM.
Kirk Cameron, that former hottie teen movie and tv star, has astounding proof that Darwinism is a crock of gorilla poo poo. Using a banana, no less, to prove his point about its perfect shape for entering the mouth, he debunks every scientist ever born. You gotta watch it. It'll change your life. I know it changed mine. But make sure to fast forward the clip to about the 3:30 mark. Otherwise, you'll be sending someone money as fast as you can write the check. (hat tip to Crooks and Liars for this one).
P.S. I am waiting with bated breath for his next installment using a very friendly python and a traffic cone to prove just exactly how Eve brought about the downfall of the Garden of Eden.
My Name Is Rachel Corrie is being read publicly at an undisclosed location in Canada. This is the play that was censored in New York as being insensitive to Jews in a time of turmoil. it's a simple premise. Young woman goes to Palestine, tries to stand in the way of an Israeli bulldozer intent on destroying a palestinian family's home and is crushed to death by the 'dozer driver. The fact that this reading has to be kept a secret says a lot. Does it matter that the driver claims he couldn't see her? Does it matter that she was wearing a bright safety vest and there were dozens of other protesters present? Does it matter that the Israeli police tried to censor all news interviews with the driver? Or does it just matter that protection of one side outweighs protection of another? Or does it simply not matter at all? By most accounts the play as written is not so interesting. It relies mainly on diaries and notes written by this young lady who, were she not so damn photogenic, might not have even made historical footnote status. But the fact that this reading is being kept so secret and attendance is invite only says something about the extreme polarity which continues to exist between those who support Israel no matter the cost or level of justification and those who support the Palestinians with the same caveats.
So, someone remind me again why our Glorious Leader isn't threatening to invade and fix Nepal? Pro-Democracy protesters, a monarchy, violent crackdowns on demonstrations and marches...oh wait a minute. Isn't Nepal like 40 miles away from China? And its sovereignty is like disputed by China? And that Chinese guy Hu (who?) is actually here in the good ol' US of A on a goodwill tour? And we're like really scared of China's burgeoning influence globally? And the fact that it seems to own more of our country than we do? And it can single-handedly change the global currency from the dollar to the euro? In fact, aren't we so scared that we had a Chinese journalist jailed for speaking out at a Rose Garden press conference just the other day at the same time that Bush was promoting free speech in China? And we had a CNN reporter removed from a photo-op for asking one question?
Coca-Cola is being targeted in India for "hoarding water". More specifically, it is being accused of depleting needed water supplies as it churns out its tasty beverage. Communities living near its bottling factories are increasingly uncomfortable with the fact that water supply levels have been dropping drastically since Coke's factories moved into their neighborhoods. And the drought season is about to hit. Now, we all know that sodas do not slake thirst. After all, their main ingredient is sugar. And sugar dehydrates. As does caffeine. So, Coke's new mantra "Let Them Drink Coke And Shut The Fuck Up" seems to be less than ingenuous. What I do love about this company is that long after cocaine's classification as a Level 1 controlled substance, the company still touts it as part of its masthead. Ah, good times. Like Robitussin when it contained morphine. And actually worked to relieve symptoms of pain. Bring back Laudanum, I say. One question, though. Is Pepsi so much more oriented to the needs of the world than Coke? I hear nothing about Pepsi-Co's involvement in anything nefarious. Is it really just Coke or is Coke simply the most obvious jugular?
Gerald Ford's still alive?!? What the fu--? And he's defending Rumsfeld? And he claims we're "at a time of war"? Cool. The Stumbler's back. Ford did more for pratfalls and Vaudeville comedy than any other president in history. Jack Tripper would never have been given the mighty laughter he got were it not for Ford. Neither would Andy Dick's character in NewsRadio. A president prone to slips, slops, mishaps, missteps and imaginary escalators is a president to be cherished.
Seriously, what the fu--?!? Some people just need to know when to "go gently into that good night". All Ford will do by piping up is bolster the legitimate claims that the Rethuglican party is trotting out every fossil it can find in order to maintain some semblance of smokescreen behind which it can hide while it attempts to reassemble its strike team before the November elections. Starting with Karl Rove gatting back to what he does best: dirty smear campaigns. Looking forward to it, myself.
You, too, can sign a petition to stop the government from okaying research into deploying "killer fungi" as a weapon. Or not.
Katherine Harris, who I happen to have a trading card of, seems to not have the best filtering process when it comes to who she sleeps with. Not that my history shows the best judgement, either. Man, I remember the time I was whacked out on Coke (the other one) and had sex with some barfly in the cab of my truck in between games of pool. It was a tournament, $5 entry and the winner walked away with $200. 5 rounds and I was out in the fourth. My backscratch and spin were were on fire that night, but so was the powder. She was, um, not Sandra Bullock. She was not even Lynn Cheney. And defumigatedly not Ann Coulter. She was, however, drunk and loose. And 20 years older. So, anyway, here we have Katherine Harris accepting insider trader head for something she may or may have not done. I ask you, what's the difference? These K Street traders pay for anything you could ever ask for. Do you think for one moment that the politician is going to take it all and then say no? I call Bovine Bowel Movement on that.
60 Minutes tomorrow night. Check it out. Another former CIA high ranker has his say. And this time it gets nasty.
"They were given the intel that no weapons of mass destruction existed. And they said, we don't care anymore. It's about regime change".
'Nuff for now. I'm on Skype until I fall over. It's 1:34 PM.
Thursday, April 20, 2006
Spankin' 101. Sweet. Smack.
Cool. The Minutemen have come up with a "do-it-yourself" defense perimeter. Unfortunately, they want to place the fences in a somewhat straight line instead of a circle or square. Because it's my opinion that the most dangerous people out there along the Rio border are the ones who think Mexicans should be stopped from coming over. Perhaps, they should study the Davidian blueprints instead. You know: enclose, encapsulate, incinerate. Xenophobia is such a nasty and diabolical disease that all who suffer from it should be quarantined for at least, oh, the rest of their lives. Not that I suffer from xenophobic xenophobia or anything, but--eww!--them people are kinda icky and I bet they smell funny and talk with an accent and wear weird headgear and worship a vengeful God and I don't think I would want my daughter to date one.
By "disciplined" do they mean "spanked"? Couldn't this qualify as faculty-sponsored, pre-doctoral group study session sports-related activity? Probably not, huh? Oh well. So much for enlightened edumacation. This is exactly why I did my studying at the Bucket (RIP) and nowhere near a supposedly sanctioned spot like the library or classroom. Demagogic repression of free expression with no session for sane suggestion.
Ha. Whoo hoo. Effin' A. Woof. Who's your daddy? Ooh, smack. Rove is being "redesignated" for assignment. In baseball, that means "thanks for all your hard work. Enjoy Triple A. Carry your own bags, bitch". So, Rove is now going to condescendtrate on helping Repubelicans keep their seats or maybe even win one they don't already own. Is it that bad in the Oval Office that Bush has to jettison the guy who got him where he is today? Is it that bad for the party that Rove has to go on the campaign trail for a bunch of sycophants who would actually rather not have to need him? Sort of like Cheney doing the dance for his party and no one seems that thrilled about it. Dick just came to Washington and almost no protestors showed up, because it was like, you know, yawn. Of course, Dick has a ways to go yet before he is indicted by Fitzgerald for crimes against the State. One rung at a time. One sanctioned torture at a time. Do you think Cheney's just not a baby toucher? As a matter of fact, when's the last time you ever saw a politician hold a baby like the old stereotype demands they should do?
Wasn't there a muppet or something named Grover? Did he have friends who did something like this:
Of course, Norquist took his own cut—“I need to give Grover something for helping, so the first transfer will be a bit lighter,” Abramoff wrote in an email to Reed. Displaying a characteristic shamelessness, Norquist recently filed a trademark application on the phrase “K Street Project.” Just curious. I mean, an email like that that doesn't make the mainstream news for us to digest with our bagel and special K Street Koffee must not be that important to anyone but a muppethead. Again, just curious.
Well, I'll sign off for now. It's Half Nekkid Thursday after all. And naughty pictures must be perused. You can go to Lecram's site to find out what HNT is all about. As for me, I've got Skype turned on and the third season of NewsRadio waiting for me. What a phenomenol (hey, that sounds like a great name for a date drug) cast. Plus, the hydrocodone is kicking in finally. After 5 beers. Jaw joint pain. Minor loss of hearing. Ringing in the ear. Either bad allergies, hypertension, TMJ or the Big C. As in Curmudgeon. Doesn't get better, I'm going in for Amoxycillin and good pain killers ("oh, doc. It hurts to chew. And it hurts to swallow. And it hurts to work. I mean, walk. What's that? Oh yeah, and it hurts to hear. And my bursitis, ohmigodthefreakinpain").
Ciao, you dirty little commies.
By "disciplined" do they mean "spanked"? Couldn't this qualify as faculty-sponsored, pre-doctoral group study session sports-related activity? Probably not, huh? Oh well. So much for enlightened edumacation. This is exactly why I did my studying at the Bucket (RIP) and nowhere near a supposedly sanctioned spot like the library or classroom. Demagogic repression of free expression with no session for sane suggestion.
Ha. Whoo hoo. Effin' A. Woof. Who's your daddy? Ooh, smack. Rove is being "redesignated" for assignment. In baseball, that means "thanks for all your hard work. Enjoy Triple A. Carry your own bags, bitch". So, Rove is now going to condescendtrate on helping Repubelicans keep their seats or maybe even win one they don't already own. Is it that bad in the Oval Office that Bush has to jettison the guy who got him where he is today? Is it that bad for the party that Rove has to go on the campaign trail for a bunch of sycophants who would actually rather not have to need him? Sort of like Cheney doing the dance for his party and no one seems that thrilled about it. Dick just came to Washington and almost no protestors showed up, because it was like, you know, yawn. Of course, Dick has a ways to go yet before he is indicted by Fitzgerald for crimes against the State. One rung at a time. One sanctioned torture at a time. Do you think Cheney's just not a baby toucher? As a matter of fact, when's the last time you ever saw a politician hold a baby like the old stereotype demands they should do?
Wasn't there a muppet or something named Grover? Did he have friends who did something like this:
Of course, Norquist took his own cut—“I need to give Grover something for helping, so the first transfer will be a bit lighter,” Abramoff wrote in an email to Reed. Displaying a characteristic shamelessness, Norquist recently filed a trademark application on the phrase “K Street Project.” Just curious. I mean, an email like that that doesn't make the mainstream news for us to digest with our bagel and special K Street Koffee must not be that important to anyone but a muppethead. Again, just curious.
Well, I'll sign off for now. It's Half Nekkid Thursday after all. And naughty pictures must be perused. You can go to Lecram's site to find out what HNT is all about. As for me, I've got Skype turned on and the third season of NewsRadio waiting for me. What a phenomenol (hey, that sounds like a great name for a date drug) cast. Plus, the hydrocodone is kicking in finally. After 5 beers. Jaw joint pain. Minor loss of hearing. Ringing in the ear. Either bad allergies, hypertension, TMJ or the Big C. As in Curmudgeon. Doesn't get better, I'm going in for Amoxycillin and good pain killers ("oh, doc. It hurts to chew. And it hurts to swallow. And it hurts to work. I mean, walk. What's that? Oh yeah, and it hurts to hear. And my bursitis, ohmigodthefreakinpain").
Ciao, you dirty little commies.
T Minus 27
So sorry, folks. Had to reinstall the word verification for a while. There's a certain spammer out there in the woodpile. No, not you Zonthar.
Well, it looks as if the tension at work is not going to lessen anytime soon. At yesterday's staff meeting the boss repeated something I had said to him about two or three weeks ago in a closed-door meeting and then promptly named me as the source. What I had told him when asked what I thought about the wrokplace was that I felt that the entire atmosphere around the office was very angry and hostile (not to me personally, but in general). When he asked what I thought might be the cause of it I told him that I thought he had a lot to do with it, because of his tendency to fly off the handle and chew people out before getting the facts straight. So, he dutifully trotted it out yesterday (of course, leaving out the part where I mentioned his involvement) and outed me. It was almost funny, because he rattled this off, but conveniently couldn't remember how I had phrased it and actually paused without looking at me and waited for me to fill it in. After 10 seconds of silence I spoke up and refreshed his memory. At that point, though, I made sure everyone in the room heard that I feel it goes from the top to the bottom. Starts with the boss. This morning I was already hearing the little barbs from my co-workers ("so, ratting us out to the boss"). Personally, I think the boss did it partly to see if he could drive a wedge between me and the rest of the staff. Didn't seem to work, though. I think they all knew exactly what was up when the boss spoke out of turn like that. He's never done something like that to anyone at a staff meeting for as long as I've been here. His top project manager actually came in early today (I was at work at 5:30 this morning) to ask me about it and suggest that I confer with corporate folks when I transfer back about the boss's leadership problems. Turns out he has already been publicly reprimanded once for creating a hostile work environment. My lab tech has actually filed a harassment complaint against him in the past for inappropriate comments.
But I'm keeping my head down, doing my thing, counting down the days left, doing my relaxation thing, fending off stress as best I can. How's by you?
Well, it looks as if the tension at work is not going to lessen anytime soon. At yesterday's staff meeting the boss repeated something I had said to him about two or three weeks ago in a closed-door meeting and then promptly named me as the source. What I had told him when asked what I thought about the wrokplace was that I felt that the entire atmosphere around the office was very angry and hostile (not to me personally, but in general). When he asked what I thought might be the cause of it I told him that I thought he had a lot to do with it, because of his tendency to fly off the handle and chew people out before getting the facts straight. So, he dutifully trotted it out yesterday (of course, leaving out the part where I mentioned his involvement) and outed me. It was almost funny, because he rattled this off, but conveniently couldn't remember how I had phrased it and actually paused without looking at me and waited for me to fill it in. After 10 seconds of silence I spoke up and refreshed his memory. At that point, though, I made sure everyone in the room heard that I feel it goes from the top to the bottom. Starts with the boss. This morning I was already hearing the little barbs from my co-workers ("so, ratting us out to the boss"). Personally, I think the boss did it partly to see if he could drive a wedge between me and the rest of the staff. Didn't seem to work, though. I think they all knew exactly what was up when the boss spoke out of turn like that. He's never done something like that to anyone at a staff meeting for as long as I've been here. His top project manager actually came in early today (I was at work at 5:30 this morning) to ask me about it and suggest that I confer with corporate folks when I transfer back about the boss's leadership problems. Turns out he has already been publicly reprimanded once for creating a hostile work environment. My lab tech has actually filed a harassment complaint against him in the past for inappropriate comments.
But I'm keeping my head down, doing my thing, counting down the days left, doing my relaxation thing, fending off stress as best I can. How's by you?
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
SportsNight (at your own risk of whatthehell)
So, let's move on to something that I rarely comment on here, but dearly love: sports. I admit here and now that I am a sports junkie. PGA, LPGA, baseball, NCAA basketball tournament, NBA playoffs, NHL Stanley Cup, NFL...nah never mind, Soccer (played it for 15 years) any-fucking-thing (World Cup in less than three months and counting), major tennis tournies...I love it. I can watch it, I can listen to it while I'm reading a book or gardening or tanning in the back yard or driving long distance. Love. It. However...and here we come to my sport of passion...
I've been watching the Barry Bonds saga for as long as anyone and I have to admit I'm stumped. He has passed every piss test given him. Every one. Not a drop, dribble, wiggle or waggle has failed the "if it's steroids it turns pink" test. Doesn't mean he hasn't done them. Doesn't mean he wasn't jacked up on them for a while. Lord, we all know Mark McGwire, Sammy Sosa, Albert Pujols, Rafael Palmeiro, Brady Anderson and others were drinking the fucking shit by the gallon. One got caught and no one else. So, why the big witch hunt when it comes to Bonds? I won't go the way of the race card. That's cheap and too easy (justifiable or not).
No. I'm going the way of the "you don't represent baseball in its best light" card. Bonds has never had a good relationship with the press. Aloof, sullen, picky, moody, quick to perceive slights, sort of an either/or asshole. Not an easy guy to interview. And when the MLBS needs its superheroes to step up and put their best foot forward in order to distract the media and public from the needle hitting going on, Bonds flipped the no-no finger at all of them. No-no to talks about steroids. No-no to talks about grand jury testimony. No-no to any of it. And baseball can't handle that. He is supposed to be the role model. He is supposed to break hank aaron's homerun record (and, now, they're afraid of that). He is a superstar's superstar. Major leaguers look to him as an untouchable once-in-a-generation player. But he won't play with humility. He won't speak with humility. He won't vaguely speak to past digressions and ask for forgiveness. He has told the world we can fuck off and feel better for it. It's kind of like me and my boss. I want to have a smooth ride out of here? Then shut the fuck and play ball. Or get ready for the Hammer. And Bonds is getting the Hammer. I don't know if he did anything bad. But I do know that we pay these athletes obscene amounts of money for entertainment. And they feel they deserve it based on the even more obscene amounts of money that the owners make (while they claim corporate welfare when looking to build a new stadium on the taxpayer's dime). I think that if the athletes were paid a decent wage for playing a game and the tickets to see them do so were around $5 and the hot dogs cost fucking 50 cents we wouldn't be in this predicament of players feeling the need to do whatever they have to do in order to get even the slightest edge on the competition. What it boils down to for me is the owners and their greed, the investors and their greed, and the so-called fans and OUR greed. We are the ones who force this kind of mental dementia to happen. So long as we will pay whatever it takes to see a game, so long as we pay $10 for a hot dog, so long as we buy the hats and jerseys, so long as we let the teams dictate our cities' identities based on whether they're there or not, so long as we believe that tourist money is the ultimate profit, so long as we buy into the myth that sports IS culture, so long as we buy whatever they ask us to, we are doomed to witnessing pro and college athletes do whatever it takes to get a leg up on the competition. And we will have to accept equal blame for it.
Boo Bonds all we want. Boo all of them. Most players try to make it on natural talent, but they practice omerta when it comes to those who juice it up. So, boo that as well. But remember to boo the owners, investors, sports columnists, politicians who throw that first ball, your neighbor who puts that "raider nation" sticker on his car (actually, throw eggs at that guy), and yourself every time you turn on the tv and watch a sporting event. We buy into it. We enable it. So, if you want to think of yourself as nobler and better, then turn off the fucking television. Because it's all entertainment. It's Seinfeld with extra pratfalls. It's Friends with all the sugary, smarmy, gosh-aren't-they-cute bullshit. It's Desperate housewives without the friggin' wives. And it Jeapordy with every question something we can almost answer.
Stop fucking complaining if you're going to turn on the tv next Saturday to see who's playing. It is okay to decry drug use. It is okay to decry cheating. But it's not okay to subsidize a multi-billion dollar industry and still sit on your highhorse.
I for one don't care. I want to see homeruns. But, then again, I know that steroids don't add that much power. And they don't accelerate hand/eye coordination or the ability to read a pitcher. There's an anecdote about Barry Bonds. A catcher (can't remember who now...not Santiago) was signed to the Giants and went through his physical. When he got to the vision part, the doc had him read off the chart lines on the wall. The catcher got to a point and said "shit, I can't read that. Nobody could read that'. The doc looked at him and said "one guy can'. The catcher asked who and doc replied "Barry Bonds". True story. And that's the main reason Bonds can hit anyone's pitch. Not because of steroids, but because he learned how to read. And react. And, of course, late in his career learn how to hit a lot of homeruns, have an amazing batting average, break all records for walks, have hit:homerun, homerun:at bats, and walk:at bats, rbi ratios that defy physics and almost all break records as well.
By the way, I want to see well turned double plays. I want to see the perfect strike. I want to see the double steal. I want to see the pick off and the balk and ejections. The throw out at home and the barreling in of the runner on the catcher. I want to see the double no hitter, which is anathema to tv sports. I want to see a runner picked off first base, base running blunders, a man completely slip rounding second on a sure triple, a shoestring catch in the outfield, the perfect cutoff and relay to nail the runner at home, a foul ball taken back from the crowd, manufactured runs, relief pitchers trying to staunch the bleeding...
...And now Bonds's body has finally begun to shut down. Why? Because of the use of steroids over the last years? Because whithout it he would have had to retire long before now? Because too many surgeries seem to have an adverse affect on professional athletes? Who knows? But I'll tell you this: without Bonds over the past 5 years, this game would have been barren. Except for novelties, it still is.
However, even after steroids were banned--what two years ago?--a number of payers are still using them.At first, the penalties weren't that harsh. Now, however, the MLBA is beginning to make a point. 100 game suspension for a minor leaguer. Likely, perhaps, we will not see major leaguers suffering this large a penalty. One or two maybe. As a warning. Sort of like the NBA's penalty on Ron Artest for going into the stand and starting a brawl. Not that Ron doesn't need serious social skills/anger management therapy, but the fans don't need to sign out restraining orders so long as they don't plan on throwing something at him.
Shit. Here comes the cat. I gotta go. Either I pet her now or I get no lovin' an hour before my alarm clock goes off. i know the logical answer is ignore her, but it doesn't work. Nothing does. When Her highness asks me to stroke her belly I don't stop to inquire about the Prince.
I've been watching the Barry Bonds saga for as long as anyone and I have to admit I'm stumped. He has passed every piss test given him. Every one. Not a drop, dribble, wiggle or waggle has failed the "if it's steroids it turns pink" test. Doesn't mean he hasn't done them. Doesn't mean he wasn't jacked up on them for a while. Lord, we all know Mark McGwire, Sammy Sosa, Albert Pujols, Rafael Palmeiro, Brady Anderson and others were drinking the fucking shit by the gallon. One got caught and no one else. So, why the big witch hunt when it comes to Bonds? I won't go the way of the race card. That's cheap and too easy (justifiable or not).
No. I'm going the way of the "you don't represent baseball in its best light" card. Bonds has never had a good relationship with the press. Aloof, sullen, picky, moody, quick to perceive slights, sort of an either/or asshole. Not an easy guy to interview. And when the MLBS needs its superheroes to step up and put their best foot forward in order to distract the media and public from the needle hitting going on, Bonds flipped the no-no finger at all of them. No-no to talks about steroids. No-no to talks about grand jury testimony. No-no to any of it. And baseball can't handle that. He is supposed to be the role model. He is supposed to break hank aaron's homerun record (and, now, they're afraid of that). He is a superstar's superstar. Major leaguers look to him as an untouchable once-in-a-generation player. But he won't play with humility. He won't speak with humility. He won't vaguely speak to past digressions and ask for forgiveness. He has told the world we can fuck off and feel better for it. It's kind of like me and my boss. I want to have a smooth ride out of here? Then shut the fuck and play ball. Or get ready for the Hammer. And Bonds is getting the Hammer. I don't know if he did anything bad. But I do know that we pay these athletes obscene amounts of money for entertainment. And they feel they deserve it based on the even more obscene amounts of money that the owners make (while they claim corporate welfare when looking to build a new stadium on the taxpayer's dime). I think that if the athletes were paid a decent wage for playing a game and the tickets to see them do so were around $5 and the hot dogs cost fucking 50 cents we wouldn't be in this predicament of players feeling the need to do whatever they have to do in order to get even the slightest edge on the competition. What it boils down to for me is the owners and their greed, the investors and their greed, and the so-called fans and OUR greed. We are the ones who force this kind of mental dementia to happen. So long as we will pay whatever it takes to see a game, so long as we pay $10 for a hot dog, so long as we buy the hats and jerseys, so long as we let the teams dictate our cities' identities based on whether they're there or not, so long as we believe that tourist money is the ultimate profit, so long as we buy into the myth that sports IS culture, so long as we buy whatever they ask us to, we are doomed to witnessing pro and college athletes do whatever it takes to get a leg up on the competition. And we will have to accept equal blame for it.
Boo Bonds all we want. Boo all of them. Most players try to make it on natural talent, but they practice omerta when it comes to those who juice it up. So, boo that as well. But remember to boo the owners, investors, sports columnists, politicians who throw that first ball, your neighbor who puts that "raider nation" sticker on his car (actually, throw eggs at that guy), and yourself every time you turn on the tv and watch a sporting event. We buy into it. We enable it. So, if you want to think of yourself as nobler and better, then turn off the fucking television. Because it's all entertainment. It's Seinfeld with extra pratfalls. It's Friends with all the sugary, smarmy, gosh-aren't-they-cute bullshit. It's Desperate housewives without the friggin' wives. And it Jeapordy with every question something we can almost answer.
Stop fucking complaining if you're going to turn on the tv next Saturday to see who's playing. It is okay to decry drug use. It is okay to decry cheating. But it's not okay to subsidize a multi-billion dollar industry and still sit on your highhorse.
I for one don't care. I want to see homeruns. But, then again, I know that steroids don't add that much power. And they don't accelerate hand/eye coordination or the ability to read a pitcher. There's an anecdote about Barry Bonds. A catcher (can't remember who now...not Santiago) was signed to the Giants and went through his physical. When he got to the vision part, the doc had him read off the chart lines on the wall. The catcher got to a point and said "shit, I can't read that. Nobody could read that'. The doc looked at him and said "one guy can'. The catcher asked who and doc replied "Barry Bonds". True story. And that's the main reason Bonds can hit anyone's pitch. Not because of steroids, but because he learned how to read. And react. And, of course, late in his career learn how to hit a lot of homeruns, have an amazing batting average, break all records for walks, have hit:homerun, homerun:at bats, and walk:at bats, rbi ratios that defy physics and almost all break records as well.
By the way, I want to see well turned double plays. I want to see the perfect strike. I want to see the double steal. I want to see the pick off and the balk and ejections. The throw out at home and the barreling in of the runner on the catcher. I want to see the double no hitter, which is anathema to tv sports. I want to see a runner picked off first base, base running blunders, a man completely slip rounding second on a sure triple, a shoestring catch in the outfield, the perfect cutoff and relay to nail the runner at home, a foul ball taken back from the crowd, manufactured runs, relief pitchers trying to staunch the bleeding...
...And now Bonds's body has finally begun to shut down. Why? Because of the use of steroids over the last years? Because whithout it he would have had to retire long before now? Because too many surgeries seem to have an adverse affect on professional athletes? Who knows? But I'll tell you this: without Bonds over the past 5 years, this game would have been barren. Except for novelties, it still is.
However, even after steroids were banned--what two years ago?--a number of payers are still using them.At first, the penalties weren't that harsh. Now, however, the MLBA is beginning to make a point. 100 game suspension for a minor leaguer. Likely, perhaps, we will not see major leaguers suffering this large a penalty. One or two maybe. As a warning. Sort of like the NBA's penalty on Ron Artest for going into the stand and starting a brawl. Not that Ron doesn't need serious social skills/anger management therapy, but the fans don't need to sign out restraining orders so long as they don't plan on throwing something at him.
Shit. Here comes the cat. I gotta go. Either I pet her now or I get no lovin' an hour before my alarm clock goes off. i know the logical answer is ignore her, but it doesn't work. Nothing does. When Her highness asks me to stroke her belly I don't stop to inquire about the Prince.
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