To All The Earth's I've Loved Before...

Hi there. How are you? Feeling good? Did that prick in accounting finally get nailed for downloading streaming videos of Brittany bombing on the VMA's? Did your boss get a mad case of mudbutt during her monthly meeting? Did your precious little Johnny get a C+ in history? Who gives a fuck? These are tiny, meaningless victories as easily forgotten as they were hard won.
I watched a few videos tonight on CNN's website. Mostly Anderson Cooper videos (Fuck yeah! Channel One star making good with his prematuring white hair!!!!) It was basically a montage of all the ill effects us humans are having on the environment, but backed with the newest R.E.M. song!!! Can you dig it? Color me surprised. Here I am, grooving to the newest single from that band that was big while the first Bush was in office and BAM, all of a sudden , I realize I'm processing a public service announcement. Too bad I was only listening to that shit in the background while I watched streaming videos of your boss getting a mad case of mudbutt during the VMA's. What I was left with, as I listened to Michael Freakin' Stipe wax philisophic about our fourth "near crisis" in regard to the environment, was this: We're fucked.
Take the rainforest, for example. Why are countries in the Amazon destroying 20-40% of our oxygen producing plants (For those of you in the cheap seats, humans need oxygen to breath)? Well, it's because these countries have no other way of sustaining their economy, of course. Do you think these mofo's are out there sweating their asses off cutting down trees because being an accountant entails too much schooling? Fuck no! It's because lumber is their #1 export and their #2 export is usually illegal in most countries. It goes without mentioning that Carbon emissions from deforestation are one of the largest sources of greenhouse gases (http://news.mongabay.com/2007/0813-deforestation.html). So these "evil" countries are destroying our oxygen output while adding to the ever growing global warming problem. How do we get them to stop? The easiest way would be government funding their economies with financial incentives directed at exploring other alternatives to stabilize their economies. The problem with this is, our fucking government doesn't have the money to fund the oil producing countries we already promised favors to and fight 2 wars, let alone throw money at these other countries (that goes for other world leading countries, including France, England China and Germany, though their money is not nearly as invested as the USA's in regard to oil producing countries). That fact may lead you to ask why are we subsidizing countries who produce oil? Countries who produce oil tend to be the wealthiest countries, per capita, in the world. The answer is this. Countries who receive money, and protection, from the United States give us a break on their oil prices. The English, whose country does subsidize oil producing countries, pay roughly $6 per gallon of gasoline. Us Americans threw fits when our gas prices hit $3 per gallon. Would we really, really, stand to pay $6 per gallon of gasoline if we knew it was to divert $$ away from oil producing countries in order to subsidize lumber producing companies if we knew it was to ensure our great grand children wouldn't have to walk the earth with oxygen tanks on their backs? No, we wouldn't. It's become now a proven fact and I think at this late date it would be too late to try. Even Tom Brady couldn't produce a fourth quarter comeback against the damage we've inflicted upon the earth. The brightest of us retards didn't stand up and take notice until they heard the death rattle.
Kurt Vonnegut wrote something to the effect, and I'm really paraphrasing here, that the earth was doomed and we should all try and live as comfortably as we could in light of that fact. I don't think he was joking and I agree with him. Our country is what it is and has been for a long, long time. I don't think it's citizens, my citizens, are willing to make the sacrifices it would take to change that. Working in health care, I've heard horror stories of people who are literally dying of cancer but who still insist on walking their IV bags out to the sidewalk to have a cigarette. That's America. This country is dying a slow death but we're all still insisting on smoking that cigarette. There's no stopping it now, let's all get comfortable.

P.S. I didn't do nearly as much research on this as I should have. Consequently, this thing invites refutation. However, I must insist that, if you were to post an alternative view, you at least do more research than I've done.

But I was so much younger then, I feel older than that now

But I was so much younger then, I feel older than that now
So, here's a pretty funny thing that happened to me today. I started jogging recently again. I say again because I tend to run during the summer and then, once the rain hits, I'm like, "Ahhhh, I'll just eat another Twinkie and watch TV. I've noticed, though, that I'm struggling a bit this year. I can only make it about a mile before my back, and just about everything else, starts to hurt. I go and talk to one of the docs at my workplace who's this huge running fanatic. Seriously, the guy writes articles about running for national magazines. I never would have thought that the act of running was complex enough to warrant one magazine article, let alone a slew of them. I mean, you put one foot in front of the other at a quicker pace than usual and bam, you're running. Apparently, I'm wrong. So, I talk to Dr. Robertson and tell him that, frankly, running a mile is kicking my ass, and ask him what he thinks I should do about it. He starts off by telling me that I'm not a young man anymore. Can you believe that? I told him, "Doc, I'm only 29" and he says, "Aren't you going to be 30 in a month?" and I said, "Right, I'm only 29." Well, long story short, he tells me I have to start off by walking, walking, like those old people do at malls. And I don't just mean regular walking, he tells me I have to walk vigorously. I say, "Like, swinging my arms and shit?" he tells me that's exactly right. So, I'm supposed to start power walking for forty-five minutes every day for the next three weeks, then, lucky me, I graduate to running for two minutes then walking for two minutes. In about 2 months I should be able to run a mile. I don't know how it happened. One day, I can eat and drink as much as I want and don't have a care in the world as to how it affects my health, the next day, I'm power walking and getting lapped by 50 year old woman, and not in a good way. I would write more, but I can feel the metamucil kicking in and I should go hover so as I don't have a reoccurence of last time. Those were my best pair of pants

Virginia: At least it's not Iraq

So I thought I was done writing about this, but it turns out I'm not. I should preface this by saying that it's sure to piss you all off, so if you're sitting the fence about liking me, I implore you, read no further.

I just had a thought, and the thought was this. 31 people died in Virginia yesterday...So what? I don't know anyone in Virginia, yet my first and enduring thought echoed the headlines: What a tragedy. But you know what, it isn't a tragedy. Thirty-some-odd people die in Iraq every other day and I don't care. I'm not trying to be callous or heartless here, just honest. People dying in Iraq mean as much to me as people dying on Lost. The only difference is, I have to wait a week for someone on Lost to die. And it's the same for you, dear readers, don't deny it.
A suicide bomber walks into a market, pulls his plug and takes 20 people with him. This is The Middle East every day. You know what? America, welcome to the rest of the world. Virginia is just a taste. Why, then, are the media and the president and the person sitting next to me and myself deeming what happened in Virginia a tragedy when, truth be told, we consider the people that die in the Middle East and elsewhere collateral damage? Fuck you, and fuck me, too. Those are people over there, real human beings who are dying just as senselessly as those poor souls in Virginia. Why aren't we, the people asking how we can avoid the killings in Iraq? Why aren't we, the people questioning the security practices of our government over there? And hey, how about a giant FUCK YOU to President Bush for having the balls to get teary-eyed about Virginia. You want to know why people in the Middle East and elsewhere hate Americans so much? I'll tell you, it's because when 30 people die on American soil it's front page news but when 30 people die in Iraq it's buried on page 6. They hate us because we hold our lives in much higher esteem than theirs. When I was outside, smoking a cigarette and this thought hit me, I hated us, too. But don't worry, Letterman's on soon so I'll crawl into my comfy bed and drift off to sleep, knowing that, in my country, it'll at least be a couple of weeks before 30 more people die needlessly.

Happy Hour again!

So yeah, I went out for happy hour with a friend earlier and now I'm compelled to write. You may look at the date of my last blog, look at my above sentence and figure out that I haven't been drinking a lot lately. 30's catching up on the quick and I've been falling over myself to keep up. So it goes.
I guess I have to start out with what happened in Virginia yesterday. I'm not going to try and dissect the reason he did it because there's nothing to write about. I've read the killer's "plays", heard about the note he left and am myself left with one solid and irrefutable idea: homeboy was nuts. There it is, plain and simple. He was crazy. Sure there was a why and a what involved, but it doesn't matter. He did what he did. Reading the newspaper and CNN's website today (I was again stuck answering phones all day) and the inevitable question that's first and foremost on everyone's minds is How could we have prevented it? Your answer: You couldn't. There is no preventing it. This guy snapped and walked into a couple of buildings and shot 31 people, himself included. There was no way to prevent it. Parents are blaming the school, The O'Reilly's (I've begun lumping all right-wing douchebags into this convenient category) are blaming video games, liberals are blaming each other but the honest and simple (and scary) truth is: this is the world we live in. Get used to it. This isn't the first time it's happened and sure as mud after a rainstorm it ain't the last. Hell, we've had several similar events happen in just the past month, one of which happened at UW. Life is, in my uninformed estimation, 75% luck. Whether you know it or not, we're all around somebody who could go off should the correct succession of events occur. I just plan on being super nice to everyone from here on out. Either that or I start using my sick days in a random fashion, hoping to avoid the shitstorm that's undoubtedly coming my way.

Coincidentally, one of the most prolific pessimists to ever put pen to paper passed away a few days ago. Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. died as a result from a fall he took a couple of weeks ago. Interesting, I read an interview of his conducted late last year. Seems the main theme he kept coming back to was this: The world is doomed, have fun. The "have fun" part wasn't intended as sarcasm, I don't think. He quite literally meant that there's no saving the planet or the human species so give up the ghost and have fun while it lasts. Kurt Vonnegut was a smarter man than even he gave himself credit for. That coupled with Steven Hawking's warning that man needs to begin colonizing space now or we're screwed leads me to believe that Vonnegut may be on to something. Tell you what, I read that Vonnegut interview and promptly threw my soda can in the garbage. Not the recycling bin, mind you, the waste paper basket. I was a couple of feet away and I mimicked a basketball fade away while I did it and, you know what, it was fun. Ah, so it goes. In memorandum of the man, I've decided to post my favorite excerpt from his last novel, Timequake:

...It was about a fugitive who sought shelter from
the police in the home of a woman he knew."Her
living room had a cathedral ceiling, which is to
say it went all the way up to the roof peak, with
rustic rafters spanning the air space below." Trout
paused. ...He went on..."She was a widow, and he
stripped himself naked while she went to fetch
some of her husband's clothes. But before he could
put them on, the police were hammering on the
front door with their billy clubs. So the fugitive hid
on top of a rafter. When the woman let in the
police, though, his oversize testicles hung down in
full view."Trout paused again."The police asked
the woman where the guy was. The woman said
she didn't know what guy they were talking about,"
said Trout. "One of the cops saw the testicles
hanging down from a rafter and asked what they
were. She said they were Chinese temple bells. He
believed her. He said he'd always wanted to hear
Chinese temple bells."He gave them a whack with
his billy club, but there was no sound. So he hit
them again, a lot harder, a whole lot harder. Do
you know what the guy on the rafter shrieked?"
Trout asked me. I said I didn't."He shrieked,
'TING-A-LING, YOU SON OF A BITCH!' "

Here's a funny thing. So, as I said above, I'm stuck answering phones today. This woman calls in and asks who's in charge of the doctors. I tell her the name. She asks what that person's title is and I tell her the office administrator and she asks to speak to that person. It was obviously a complaint. What is also obvious, or at least is to anyone who works with doctors is that the only thing larger than their egos is their contempt for one another. Sufficed to say, a complaint is something I ought to keep quiet. Instead, I ring my boss up and tell her that this woman is on the phone, she's a patient of so-and-so's and she's calling in with a complaint. I get all of this out before I realize that I can hear myself talking not just through my own mouth but from every phone speaker in the general vacinity. Yeah, you see, in my haste to relay the situation to my boss I seem to have pressed the "page" button rather than the button connected to my boss' extention, which is no where near the "page" button, thereby alerting everyone, other doctors included, in the office that Dr. so-and-so is receiving a complaint from one of his patients. It's kind of funny but also kind of the thing that gets a guy like me fired. Said doctor actually works in a different building than me so the news of my little faux-pas should be reaching his ears sometime tomorrow. Incidentally, if anyone in the Seattle area is looking for a dumb, but well meaning, employee, feel free to ring me up, I've got a few recommendations.

"Fearlessness in those without power is maddening to those who have it"

"Fearlessness in those without power is even more maddening to those who work for those who have it"

The quote in the title if from Tobias Wolff. The subsequent quote may well have come from a woman I had to deal with at work today. You see, saying to someone, "Do you know who I am" while horribly cliched is still the quintessential way for pompous idiots to try and end an argument and get what they want in the most passive-aggressive manner possible. But you know what, if they were really that powerful, they would just come out and threaten you. Or better still, if someone told John Gotti he couldn't have something, he didn't threaten you at all, he would just wack you the first chance he got and let you be the threat to the next guy. Not that I want to condone John Gotti's actions, but he had a lot of power, not only in NYC, but everywhere. There's one guy I would bend over backwards for. John Gotti was so powerful, I'd recognize him, pick him out of a crowd, and do what he told me to. I mean, if Condoleeza Rice is told she has to wait in line for a no fat, low carb carmel mocchiato, I can see her breaking out with, "Do you know who I am?" and then getting what she wants. After all, the implied message here is, I'm such an important person that that not giving me what I want will be detrimental to your future, and any barista with even the tiniest sense of self preservation would, when going eyeball to eyeball with the second most powerful woman in the country (Oprah still has her trumped) comply. However, if John Gotti's wants a double tall Americano, he doesn't wait in line in the first place, you just give it to him and hope he leaves. My point here is that the truly powerful never have to flaunt how powerful they are. Logic would then dictate that the more a person has to flaunt their power, the less power they actually have. (However, there are a few things a person needs to consider before spouting this time honored phrase. For instance, a person is going to want to weigh their own sense of self worth against the actual worth of their self, as it were. Not that one need be famous or absolutely powerful for this little trick to work. For instance, Andy The Garbageman would be able to subjugate anyone on his route with this little turn of phrase because, after all, you fuck with Andy you wind up with three weeks worth of diapers and half-empty milk containers on your lawn. However, if Andy The Garbageman from Deerpiss, MT says this to someone living in Idaho, the only response he's going to get is an extended middle finger because he's threatening someone whom he doesn't hold any power over. This brings me to the patient I dealt with today.
She called for a Rx (that's shop type for prescription, for all of you that don't work in the glamorous world of medical records) and was told that her doctor was in surgery and that it would be called in the next morning. She began to freak, in a pretty funny way. She told me that she had to go to work tomorrow and therefore had to have the Rx today. I started to repeat to her that her doctor was in surgery and that it would be called in the next morning, but she stopped me about three words in and said, "Listen to me," but didn't follow that up with anything so I again began to tell her that her doctor was in surgery and that it would be called in the next morning at which point she again told me that I wasn't listening to her. I assured her I understood what she was saying (if any of you are wondering, I am disgustingly polite when I'm on the phone.) but she countered by saying, "Yeah, but you're not listening to me". I'll admit, it dumbfounded me for a moment as I had to contemplate this woman's distinction between understanding her and listening to her. I regained my senses, though, and told her that there wasn't anything else we could do. That's when it happened. That's when she threw her ace. "Do you know who I work for?" Oh, the acid that was dripping from that question, it was enough to sink ships. I panicked for a moment. Sweet whistlin' Jesus, who did she work for? Why don't I know? Was she the consulate for some vindictive country? Would I, if I proceeded on this course, need to tell my family to go into hiding? Who does she work for?!? I answered honestly, "No mam, I don't." "I work for a lawyer who represents Dr _____." Whooo, is that a load off my mind. I mean, for a second there, I thought she might actually work for someone who might actually be able to at least cause an inconvenience in my life. Seriously, I thought that. The line was quiet, the air tense. She had moved the pieces and had waited for me to accept check-mate. I told her I was sorry and she began yelling, "No, no, no," into the phone. Luckily, I was rescued by a random doctor's assistant that had been listening in. I transferred her to the assistant and listened as the assistant reiterated what I'd already said and then, comically, said, "Well, I've never heard of him and you're just going to have to wait until morning" at which point they hung up.
So let that be a lesson for all of you drug seekers out there, lie! Say you work for a lawyer representing Michael Jackson and you're going to send him to the offending party's house to babysit their kids if the offending party doesn't cooperate with your asinine request. At least be creative about it. At the very least, recognize that threatening someone with power that someone who pays you possesses will do nothing more than get you laughed at by a meager medical records supervisor who just kept you from getting what you wanted.

Here Comes the Cavalry

http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2007/02/22/national/main2504315.shtml?source=RSSattr=HOME_2504315


Ahhhh. Sometimes, I encounter things that are so ridiculous I think I don't even need to comment on this. Of course, that never lasts.

The Summary: Some guy, living in his mother's apartment, hears a ruckus from his upstairs neighbor. This guy deems the ruckus to be a rape in progress. He grabs his cavalry sword (you read that right, loyal readers, cavalry sword), runs upstairs to his neighbors apartment, kicks in the door and, while holding the neighbor at sword-point, demands to know where the offended woman is. The guy grows irate when the neighbor claims he has no idea what the guy is talking about and then makes the neighbor open every cupboard and closet in the place to prove he's alone. Apparently, after the neighbor has proven this, the guy relaxes a bit allowing the neighbor to call the police. The fuzz shows and arrests the guy for criminal tresspass, criminal destruction of property and disorderly conduct, all with the use of a deadly weapon.

The Riff: Sweet whistlin' Jesus, where do I begin? I suppose first. The suspect, James Van Iveren, is 39 years old...and he's living with his mother. Oh, and he owns a cavalry sword. Are you freakin' kidding me? Is this jackass the king of all dorks, or what? What happened guy? Was all the moaning and groaning interrupting your twelve-hundreth vewing of The Matrix? What in the hell was this guy doing home in the middle of the afternoon, shouldn't you be out looking for a job, sir? Maybe a job in the security guard field? Check it out, maybe they'll even let you bring your sword.
I also have to wonder, what kind of porno was this? As someone who considers themselves at least moderately well versed in the artform we call pornography, I have a hard time with General Custer Jr.'s inability to distinctly identify a "yes" moan. I mean, the guy's 39 years old and lives with his mother, I'm bettin' he ain't no stranger to the genre. So what, I wonder, led sword-boy to believe a woman was being raped in the apartment above his (mother's)? I'm hoping it wasn't something along the lines of, Hey, I recognize that sound, it's the sound of a woman being raped...'cause that's just creepy.
I also have to wonder, at what decibel level was said pornography playing at? Is the upstairs neighbor a little hard of hearing? And what kind of a sound system is he using that a DVD can be mistaken for real life?

Fruit Hoops

So first, I'm going to apologize for the title, that's just wrong. I could fall back on the argument that since I used to work in gay bars I'm allowed to poke fun, but I'm sure a lot of gay and lesbian people would disagree, and rightly so. The fact of the matter is, that's the cleverest thing I've thought of in a long time, and, I know, it ain't sayin' much. When I found this story and decided to blog on it, it's also the first title that came to me, and that's saying a whole lot, but we'll get to that later.
So, here's the story thus far:
http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/2007/basketball/nba/02/15/bc.bkn.hardawayremarks.ap/index.html?cnn=yes

To summarize, former NBA player, John Amaechi, released a memoir, titled "Man in the Middle" in which he states he is a homosexual. In an interview, the subject of homosexuals in the NBA was brought up to retired NBA star, Tim Hardaway (for those of you who, like me, don't really follow basketball, this is not the same Hardaway who used to do commercials with that little puppet guy, though I'm sure there's a "What's the difference" joke in there, somewhere) who stated that he didn't like homosexuals, thought it would be a problem playing with one and would go to great lengths to have one removed from any team he was playing on. This caused problems.
Firstly, the host of the radio show during which Hardaway made his blatantly homophobic comments, Dan Le Batard, apparently called him out on it, telling him he was a homophobe and a bigot. Bravo to you, sir. It would have been too easy for someone to just be all "Larry King" about it and hang back while the incendiary comments boosted their visibility on a national stage. Next, the Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation (jeez, doesn't anyone name their organization without having an acronym in mind anymore?) got involved, referring to Hardaway's remarks as "vile, repulsive, and indicative of the climate of ignorance, hostility and prejudice that continues to pervade sports culture". In their statement, they could have just said "general society" but hey, they're being specific. GLAAD went on to say, "...and by apologizing not for his bigotry (Hardaway, in a subsequent interview, apologized for saying these things), but rather for giving voice to it, he's reminding us that this ugly display is only the tip of a very large iceberg". The National Gay & Lesbian Task Force (jeez, doesn't anyone name their organization without first having an acronym in mind anymore?) threw in, stating "Hardaway is a hero to thousands of young people. And that's what makes his comments so troubling. Sadly, his words simply put the pervasive homophobia in the NBA on the table." Bold words, to be sure. But I have to wonder, shouldn't we be thanking Mr. Hardaway for his moronic statements? After all, it isn't as if homophobia in the NBA, or to be fair, any organized sport would have been brought to the forefront of national attention if Mr. Hardaway had kept his mouth shut. Tim Hardaway making such outlandish comments is really the best case scenario, isn't it? I mean, had John Amaechia simply released his book detailing the hardships he'd gone through as a gay man in the NBA, he would have been shoved off as a social pariah and that would've been the end of it. But, having something tangible to fight makes everyone stand up and take notice. Feelings are difficult to fight. Face it, we're all prejudiced. We're all racist, homophobic, sexist, or ageist to some degree. I know I am. Look at the title for my blog. I have good friends that are gay, but that doesn't stop me from making fun of them. Tim Hardaway isn't the person we should all be worrying about. It's the people who feel this way but don't realize it that we need to be concerned with. In other words, "I've seen the enemy, and they is us" I think we all need a little Tim Hardaway in our lives to help us temper how we feel against what we know is right. So I say thank you, Tim Hardaway, thank you for being the posterboy of social retardation the rest of us hide in the basement of our subconscious. Also, how happy would Ted Haggard be to find out that, if he could only improve his skills in the paint, the NBA would accept him, either way.