Stuff, and Occasional Nonsense

My yearly don't-deactivate-my-account post...

2010-03-15T23:19:34Z

Nothing to see here. Move along...

A bit of housekeeping

2009-03-11T03:36:10Z

My other blog, "Breakfast in Davenport," is now gone. I always meant for the stories in there to be collected in a book, and if that's the case, I should keep them to myself until that time. Thanks for reading, if you did, and look for something new later on down the road.

Writer's Block: Legends of Rock

2008-12-06T20:02:33Z

There are a few concerts that go down in musical history—Altamont, Woodstock, Live Aid, the Hannah Montana Best of Both Worlds tour—as legendary experiences. What live show stands as legend in your own experience?

View 500 Answers

Hands down, Guns N' Roses in January of 1992. I drove from Superior, WI to the Target Center in Minneapolis, MN with my roommate, his girlfriend, and one of her friends. The show started three hours late, Axl was so drunk he fell over at one point, and my car broke down on the way home, but the show itself was epic. We were fifty feet from one of the speaker towers; that show probably contributed to the tinnitus that plagues me to this day.

In fact, I have already written about it over here.

The Artist Formerly Known As Someone Whose Records I'll Buy

2008-11-19T00:49:10Z

Fuck you too, Prince.

"Waah! Stop making fun of us!"

2008-11-14T00:32:23Z

Apparently, there's a push for the UN to ban blasphemy. First the Mormons fuck with a ballot measure that has nothing to do with them, now this bullshit? I think some people are forgetting a few things:

1. It's not blasphemy unless you're actively practicing the religion. I, as an atheist, am incapable of committing blasphemy. Your dumb-fuck little rules only apply to the people who actively choose to follow them. The rest of us will do whatever the fuck we want, whenever the fuck we want to.

2. Making fun of you for believing some silly bullshit is not blasphemy either. It is ridicule. And you would be deserving enough of it for simply believing the silly bullshit. But the truth is that your silly bullshit gets people killed. Every day, all over the world. And it fucks up the lives of countless others. We make fun of you for it because it is the only non-violent way we have of dealing with the wreckage your silly bullshit leaves behind.

3. Be careful how you throw around the word "terrorist." Likewise "persecution." We have shown infinite patience and above-and-beyond accommodation to you and your silly bullshit. We're not trying to get you to change. We just want you fuckers to shut up and leave us alone. We don't want to torture you into confessing anything, or hang you for being accused of the impossible by bored little girls, or steal airplanes and fly them into your buildings, or any of the other atrocities that you fuckers have been guilty of over the centuries. If you want us to act like terrorists towards you, or show you what real persecution is, say the word. All we have to do is start treating you the way you treat everyone else.

Bittersweet

2008-11-06T00:27:57Z

To everyone who voted for Obama: Thank you for taking away a little of my cynicism.

To the Republicans: Nyah-nyah! So long, farewell, auf wiedersehn, fuck you!

To the majority of voters in California: Shame on you. I find it absolutely disgusting that you let that atrocity pass. I have never been so glad to no longer live in a place in my life, and if I did still live in California, this would be the final straw that drove me away.

To President-Elect Obama: Congratulations, sir. I ask only one thing: Last night you promised to be honest with us. Please keep that promise. If you do that and nothing else, you will be worthy of the trust we have placed in you. Oh, and good luck in your new job. You're going to need it.

My one final word about the election

2008-11-02T19:26:48Z

I've been asked to say something about the impending election. I've been avoiding it, because I can't be rational about this one. I can't even be civil about it. But why do I have to be civil? Fuck civility; I need to make my feelings absolutely clear.

So here it is:

If you vote for McCain and Palin, or if those of you in California vote in favor or Proposition 8, you can't be my friend anymore. I am dead serious. If you vote in favor of that bigoted old fuckbag and that retarded Barbie doll, or if you flat-out insult my little brother by voting for Prop 8, you can simply go fuck yourself.

I leave it up to individuals to let me know how they feel about this. And I would hope that each of you would have the balls to let me know if you're going to slap me, and the people I love, in the face in this way. I won't be asking anyone, but if I find out, no matter who wins, even if it's years from now, our friendship is over. I don't care who you are. I forgave a few Bush voters as simply being misguided; this time around, I can't attribute the conservative vote as anything but malicious, and I can't see it as anything but a personal attack.

So if you care about me, or your friendship with me, vote for Obama, and vote no on 8 if you're in Cali. If not, we're through.

Poor, poor Rutherford

2008-10-15T23:36:39Z

(I'm going to try to post more regularly. I promise. Pinky-swear, even.)

A funny thing happened at work today. I was laying out a batch of street signs for a small town in Washington that shall remain anonymous, for now. The order was for a bunch of signs for streets named after former Presidents. Lots of towns have such a section, and so it's not uncommon for me to make signs for Lincoln, Adams, Jefferson, Grant, et cetera, streets.

But the fair city of [Stiwtsrafn] also requested a couple unusual ones: Garfield, Harding, and... "Hays."

Rutherford B. Hayes, 19th President of the United States, wasn't notable for a whole lot. He was one of the first of the Dickhead Republican Presidents, a tradition that I'm sincerely hoping does not continue into 2009, but otherwise he's basically just a historical footnote. But being President does get you streets named after you.

Now, if you're going to name a street after a President, it's usually proper to spell his name right. I pointed out the error to my boss, who took it to his boss, who checked the paperwork, and nope... the mistake wasn't on our end. The customer actually wants "Hays" instead of "Hayes."

Well, hey... the customer is always right. So we're making the sign as ordered. Like my boss says, we'll probably end up re-doing it after someone at their end points out the error, but that's for another day.

But if you happen to live in the fair city of [Stiwtsrafn], or know the history teacher at [Stiwtsrafn] High School, you might want to point it out. You know, for Rutherford's sake.

The Coens have done it again

2008-09-16T00:46:26Z

This weekend, in our latest attempt to avoid our horrific neighbors, we decided to go see a movie. As many of my friends know, I am a huge fan of the Coen brothers' movies, and when I heard about Burn After Reading, I got the impression that it was going to be the sort of Coen brothers film I really like. And I was right.

It seems like most guys my age go for The Big Lebowski as their favorite. And while I am indeed glad to know that The Dude is out there, takin'er easy for all us sinners, I enjoy their darker, harder to define films more. My favorite is still Fargo, with The Hudsucker Proxy coming in a close second. And I do believe that Burn After Reading has now secured the number three spot.

There's a scene between John Malkovich and Brad Pitt that simply has to be seen to be understood. George Clooney's character loses his mind on-screen in such a perfect way that you forget it's normally supercool George Clooney doing it. Frances McDormand kicks all kinds of ass, in a low-self-esteem-but-determined-to-get-what-she-wants kind of way. And the incomparable J.K. Simmons, whom you know as the boss of both Peter Parker and Deputy Chief Brenda Lee Johnson, sums up the storyline of the movie in one moment: He shakes his head, sighs, and mutters, "What a clusterfuck."

But it's a fantastic clusterfuck, the sort of clusterfuck we've come to expect and adore from the Coens. This movie doesn't take itself, its characters, or its subject matter seriously, but it's so earnest that you can't really call it a comedy. And while you laugh, several times, it's an uncomfortable laugh, a laugh of recognition of the ugly truth. That laugh is the reason I see the Coen brothers' films, and it's the reason you should go see Burn After Reading.

I love big old rusty things

2008-09-10T01:20:55Z

I have some really weird tastes and hobbies. I'm aware of this. This weekend, I got to indulge in another on my stranger ones: my love affair with big creepy dead machines.

I don't know what the draw is, to be honest. But show me a tractor rotting away in a field, weeds growing up through the spokes in the wheels, and I'm a happy guy. I like to tour old mines and places like that, to see all the gigantic equipment, quietly rusting away in a dark corner. I could spend hours in a junkyard; I even dawdle at U-Pull-It when I go get parts for my car. I don't want to see the wrecked ones, but I love the old cars that just plain wore out and now are enjoying a well-deserved rest.

Over the years I have been lucky enough to see some real beauties: the abandoned gold mines and ghost towns of central Colorado, an airplane graveyard in Kansas, and the mother lode (so to speak): the Quincy copper mine in Hancock, Michigan, home of the world's largest steam hoist engine. The big drum in the middle spins and pulls a cable up and down the mine shaft, to put miners in and bring copper out, at over 30 miles per hour (!). This thing is HUGE, and the building it's housed in is a wonderful old crumbly concrete structure that looks more like a cathedral than part of a mine. And the entire grounds of the place is littered with hunks of junk, gently returning to the minerals from which they were made.

This weekend, however, I may have found a new favorite Big Old Rusty Thing: the Peter Iredale, a British sailing ship that ran aground near Astoria, Oregon in 1906 and has been sitting there ever since. She was a huge iron thing, with four masts, and when she washed up on the beach, she became an instant tourist attraction.

There's not much left of her now, and most of what is left is buried in the silt. From the sounds of it, at high tide, she's completely underwater. But we were there when the tide was fairly low, though not all the way out, so she sat there right at the water's edge, with the occasional wave lapping around her rusty prow and washing over the stumps of her masts. It was creepy, and somehow wonderful, to stand near one of those stumps and imagine her keel buried several feet in the sand below my feet. I ran my fingers over the crinkly surface of her bow, chuckling to myself that this might be the only chance I'll ever get to walk up to a shipwreck and touch it.

I don't know why I love stuff like this so much, but I really do. I don't have any morbid fascination with wrecks, or scenes of accidents, or anything like that, just the stuff that was abandoned, because it wore out, became obsolete, or (like the Peter Iredale) just ended up stuck someplace. Part of me wants to research these things, and find out if there are any other semi-famous Big Old Rusty Things I should see before the earth reclaims them for good. Rust never sleeps, after all. Anyone have any suggestions?

Karma... you're soaking in it

2008-08-28T02:00:36Z

It seems there was a tiny little sprinkler malfunction at the DNC in Denver.

In the Fox News booth.

Now, I'm not normally given to schadenfreude, but... oh fuck it. Yes I am. This story made my day. Suck it, Fox News. And here's hoping that your insurance company calls it an "act of God" and refuses to pay up.

In which I say some terribly un-PC things

2008-08-14T02:07:10Z

I haven't said much about this on this blog, because I didn't want to really say the things I've been thinking. But it has become apparent that familiarity does breed contempt, and generalizations are sometimes very accurate, and I have discovered an entire ethnic group that I don't like.

Basically, it all started with this nasty, unusually hot summer we've been having in Oregon. It pretty much feels just like California around here right now. Not quite as hot as in the middle of the San Fernando Valley, where three digits are the norm for most of July and August, but plenty hot. And dry. We haven't had a drop of rain in a month. We had rain every day until mid June, and then it just stopped. And someone put the knob on "Broil" and left it there.

We live on the second floor of an apartment building overlooking a swimming pool. We chose this view over another apartment, which overlooked a Dumpster. For most of the summer, we would have preferred the Dumpster.

Every kid in the apartment complex is in or around the pool, all the time. Thousands of them. Most of our neighbors are Hispanic, which means they each have eight kids and zero discipline. And they all love to blast some sort of noise that they seem to think is music. And they hang out in the stairwell and jabber away, with the echo and the lack of weatherstripping on the door making it sound like they're standing in our living room. We are surrounded by noise, of various degrees of unpleasantness, for most of the day. We might have been able to pick a worse apartment complex, but I think it would have taken a conscious effort. It's hell here. We hate it.

We yell at them to turn down the music. We report them to the apartment manager. We call the cops. Everything is a temporary fix. Just when I think we've gotten through to them, I hear one of their bratty little spawn out on its balcony, blowing a toy horn across the courtyard. Its parents seem to think it has the right to do this. There is almost always garbage in the parking lot, and usually it includes beer cans. Cars with no mufflers buzz up and down the parking lot at all hours, blaring the same shitty excuse for music. None of them go to bed, or in fact even go inside, until about midnight. On weekdays. Five of their kids were playing in a pile of discarded furniture next to the carports when I came home. In the middle of fucking suburbia! The buildings were all painted earlier this year, and now they're all trashed-looking again.

We signed a year lease on this torture chamber, never imagining that it would get so bad. Honestly, I had no idea the Mexicans from California had discovered Oregon. I thought we'd be rid of them, moving up here. Had I known, I might have suggested we move to Canada. Surely they can't cross TWO borders to annoy us, can they?

I haven't seen any signs of anyone trying to improve their situation, or taking any pride in their homes, or anything. There doesn't seem to be any purpose or goal to anything they do. All they seem to do is consume and reproduce. Oh, but they're all Catholic, so they're all "God's children" and therefore special, in their opinion.

(You think I'm being racist, don't you? Fine. YOU live with the fuckers for a while.)

We have to get away from here. We have to have a piece of land we can forbid people to set foot on, and a structure with its own freestanding walls. We need some peace and quiet and sanity.

So we started looking for a house, just to keep ourselves sane. Then we found out we could break our lease if we pay a one-month penalty. Sold! Just let us find a place, and we're history. Once we're gone, they can trash the place, for all I care. And I'm certain they will. They're already working hard at it.

We thought we had found a place, but the inspection didn't go well. And then we started thinking about it, and even if we fixed everything that was wrong with it, it still wouldn't be right. So instead of rushing, we're trying really hard to take the time to find the right place. Which means we're stuck here for a little while longer. It's supposed to be in the nineties all weekend. It's gonna suck.

Oh, and the book is on hold until we move. I can't even begin to concentrate with all this goddamn racket.

But... if we don't beat them up, how will they know we're scared of them?

2008-08-12T02:05:11Z

Just because it's been a while since I posted something that absolutely disgusted me:

It's Okay to Beat Up Gays in North Carolina

Jesus Handjob Motherfucking Christ on a fucking Wheat Thin. Is there anything you fucking Christian rednecks aren't terrified of? Seriously, how empty and shallow and meaningless are your lives, that you put so much time and effort into worrying about what other people do in their bedrooms? And isn't the whole "he's difern't, so we hafta hit him" thing getting just a little bit old? Look, you retarded inbred hicks. No one wants to fuck you anyplace you don't want to be fucked, so just fucking relax and live and let live, all right? Bloody hell, you people make my brain hurt.

And, although I realize that logic is not your strong suit, I feel I must point out that since you draw the line based on your belief that homosexuality is not an immutable characteristic (which is fucking bullshit, by the way), your precious Jeebus lies on the same side of that line, since Christianity is demonstrably a choice. What this means for your sister-fucking school kids is this: If it's acceptable for your kid to beat up another kid for being gay, it is equally acceptable for the gay kid to beat up yours for being Christian. Didn't think about that, did you? Fuck, you people are dumb.

What hath Gwen wrought?

2008-07-26T06:16:21Z

It's time. I'm calling it. The worst song on the radio, summer 2008, is "Love Remains The Same" by Gavin Rossdale.

"But," you're saying, "He's the guy from Bush! Everything Zen! That kick-ass song from that werewolf movie! How can he do anything that sucks?" Well, go find a download or pop over to YouTube and check it out. Hear for yourself.

See? Lame. Lame, lame, lame. And overplayed. It's on the "alternative" radio station at least three times a day while I'm at work. And I don't even listen to the radio all day, so it might be more often. But why? Is it popular just because of who it is? Is it payola? And more important, how could a former rock demigod like Gavin Rossdale possibly record such an insufferably lame song?

I have a theory. I'm going to blame his wife, Gwen Stefani.

She did some cool stuff in the past. "Spiderwebs" was a cool song. And she looked really cute walking around barefoot in that blue dress in the "Don't Speak" video. But then, it all went wrong, somehow. And now, not content to break up No Doubt, not willing to rest on her laurels after making the world a slightly more horrifying place with the atrocity of "Hollaback Girl," she has set her sights higher (or is it lower?) and somehow convinced, cajoled, forced, or possibly just allowed her husband to record a ballad so horrid it would make John Waite cringe.

Now, don't get me wrong; there's nothing wrong with lame songs. But there is an art to lameness; you can't just suck and call it a day. You have to get to that Phil Collins place, where you know you're lame, but you make it work for you. And you can't half-ass it. Phil gives his lameness his all, and in the process becomes just a little bit awesome. Same thing with Richard Marx. Steve Perry. And, perhaps the king of kings, Barry Manilow. These are the levels of lame that you have to shoot for.

Miss that mark by just a little bit, however, and suddenly you're Kip Winger.

Gavin, I get it. You love your wife. She makes you want to do all sorts of sappy things, write cheesy songs, give up your hard rockin' ways and sing ballads to her all day long. I understand, really. But come on, man; either do it or don't.

I'll expect better things from the next single. Step it up a notch, or go home.

And Gwen, shame on you for allowing this.

Two all-beef patties special sauce lettuce cheese...

2008-07-25T23:49:30Z

I'm not crazy about fast food in general, and I usually try to avoid McDonald's in particular. I can't remember the last time I had anything from beneath the Golden Arches that wasn't breakfast food, and even that was over a year ago. And it's got nothing to do with a certain mustachioed crusader and his movie about eating nothing but McDonald's, although I'm sure my health is better for it. I just want my food the way I want it, and it's too much hassle to special-order food there, or pick out the bits I don't like.

But this weekend, since I'm bacheloring it anyway (my wife is scuba diving), I think I'll stop by good old Mickey D's and drop a few bucks on a nice Big Mac. I suddenly feel compelled to show my support for McDonald's.

And why, you may ask?

Because it pisses off the fundies. What better reason could there possibly be?

In case you're not up to speed, McDonald's, among a bunch of other charitable contributions, gave like twenty grand to a group that supports legalizing gay marriage, and had a float in the San Francisco Pride Parade. It was a nice gesture on their part, and a good way to get some positive publicity after Super Size Me. But as these things tend to, that one little gift was blown way out of proportion by the Christian right, and for the way they tell it, McDonald's has graphic images of the Hamburglar bending Mayor McCheese over the counter on the side of every Happy Meal box. McDonalds, in the eyes of these wackadoos with too much time on their hands, is trying to poison their children with the "Gay Agenda" (insert dramatic music here).

Now, I'm straight, but I'm familiar enough with the gay community that I can say with absolute certainty that the only "agenda" they have is to get right-wing Christians to leave them the hell alone. And I think it's wonderful that such a "traditional American" company as McDonald's is throwing a token of support their way. That's real progress. And I fully understand why it sticks in the collective craw of the right-wingers. But you know what I have to say to them? Tough shit. The times, they are a-changin', and McDonald's is changing with them. Get over it, and mind your own goddamn business.

My worry is that this boycott will have at least some teeth to it, which is too bad. Sure, the world could do without fast-food restaurants, but McDonald's does a lot of good with their burger money, more than a lot of big companies do, and it would be sad to see that go away just because a bunch of prissy fucks care what other people do in private.

So that's why I'm going to go eat at McDonald's this weekend. Maybe for lunch tomorrow. A big greasy slab of Americana. A reverse-boycott. A piping-hot French fry in the eye of all the assholes that make the word "family" sound sinister. A taste of freedom. (And don't worry, honey; I'll have salad for dinner to counteract it.)

Pretentious Wanker Lane

2008-07-03T01:42:20Z

Part of my new job is making street signs. Yes, I know the letters are too small. No, I can't do anything about it; there's a specification I have to follow.

Anyway, several times I have seen streets I know from my own neighborhood, which is kind of cool, and as I gain familiarity with the Portland area, I find that there are more and more street names I recognize. And it's fun, because I've always liked to see the street names of different areas, and try to figure out what regional influence created them.

But there are some that just have to be seen to be believed: Jewelberry Avenue, Crystal Coral Drive, shit like that. I know exactly where these streets are, even though I've never been near them. They're in suburbia, the cookie-cutter wasteland of sprawl that has grown around the edges of every American city in the past thirty years like a fungus. These pretentious signs hang over crooked streets full of shoddily-built McMansions with overpriced Japanese SUVs in the driveways, full of glassy-eyed automatons who sold their souls for a plasma TV and vote Republican because they're scared of their own shadow.

I should know. I grew up in the proto-suburb of Boulder Hill, Illinois, in a once-lovely valley between the towns of Montgomery and Oswego. Our house was a precursor to the McMansions of today: bigger than it needed to be, thrown onto its foundation in such a hurry that floors creaked and doorways leaned from day one, crowded onto an irregular-shaped lot on a tiny street that went nowhere: Beau Meade Road. Gah.

Some people, I know, might think this is sour grapes, that I'm just jealous of the money these people have. That's true; I am. But I won't spend the seventy or eighty hours a week in a cubicle it takes to afford that lifestyle, and even if I had the money, I'd skip the oversized house and ostentatious jacked-up-station-wagon (which is all an SUV is, really) and revolving debt, and fix up a little house and drive a beat-up old sports car that's paid for. (Hey wait; that sounds like what I do now!)

So enjoy your shiny stuff and credit card bills, denizens of Pretentious Wanker Lane. But keep in mind that the guy who made your street sign is laughing at you.

WHAT?!?

2008-07-02T01:52:25Z

I don't even know what to say:

Barack Obama Loses His Fucking Mind

Wait, yes I do.

FUCK!
YOU!
AND!
YOUR!
IMAGINARY!
FRIEND!

Listen close, you fuckers. My right to IGNORE your retarded fucking bullshit TRUMPS your right to shoot off your fucking mouths about it. Your made-up shit deserves NO respect and NO special treatment.

Fucking hell. I never thought I'd be questioning whether to stay in this diseased rat-hole of a country even if a fucking DEMOCRAT gets in.

I sincerely hope this is just an empty campaign lie, Mr. Obama. If not, you can kindly go fuck yourself.

You know, I WAS gonna buy a bumper sticker from you. Now, no fucking way.

No static at all... and not much good music, either

2008-07-01T01:18:31Z

I recently started a new job. For the past three weeks I have been making street and highway signs for a company in southeast Portland. The pay isn't great, but the work is simple, and the commute isn't bad, and the people are good. It's not an ideal situation, but it'll do for now.

And so, for the first time in a long time, I've been listening to entire days of FM radio. And it only took me a week to realize how much I really hate it.

Commercial FM radio has nothing to do with music. That's the basic problem. The music exists only as something to fill up space between advertisements, and to maybe help the record companies shift a few CDs. This is done by selecting one song off the CD that seems the "catchiest," and playing it and it alone as many times a day as possible. There is a name for this: it's called "heavy rotation." And I hate it with every fiber of my music-loving being. It makes no sense to me from an artistic standpoint; often the radio singles are the songs the band considers "throwaway" songs, the stuff they put on there to make the record company shut up. They're almost always the worst song on the album. But a lot of times, they're the only song you hear.

Ever. For all time. My new co-workers have made a game out of "twofer Tuesdays," when the classic rock station plays back-to-back songs by the same band. They try to guess what the second song will be when the first one is played. Obviously, all you're ever going to hear are former radio singles, so unless it's a Beatles song, or someone equally prolific, there are only at most ten or so possible songs for any given band, so it's really not that hard to guess and be right once in a while. Confine yourself to whatever is on that band's greatest hits album, and you'll be in the ballpark. (I always lose this game because I guess the song Iwant to hear next instead of the one they're most likely to play.)

The local alternative-rock station has tried to counter this with some of their features, namely "Track Seven," in which they pick one album per day and play all the songs off it over the course of the day, and "Perfect Playlist," when they have a listener come in and play the five songs they most want to hear. The problem is that the albums they pick for Track Seven are dreadfully obvious choices, and most people's Perfect Playlists are full of nothing but radio singles.

Now, apparently I'm the odd-man-out when it comes to music anyway, because even when I find something new I absolutely adore, I don't play it over and over again, because I know I'll get tired of it. So I ration it out. That way, when I do listen to it, my appreciation for it grows instead of diminishes. This is why there are some CDs by "one hit wonders" that I know backwards and forwards, and love every track, because I didn't just burn myself out on the single. From talking to people, I gather that no one else does this.

Oh well. I have now reloaded my iPod with full albums that I enjoy, and so I just listen to that. I'll rotate the albums out when I want to hear something else. Keep your Twofer Tuesdays.

It shouldn't even be a contest

2008-06-06T17:10:00Z

Well, we've got our nominee for President. And as usual, he wasn't my first choice, but he was higher up his respective list than John Kerry was on his. I'd rather have seen Mike Gravel or John Edwards up there, but I like Barack Obama. And I like him even more after watching his acceptance speech, which was eloquent, gracious, passionate, and not easily summed up in a sound bite, which is why I recommend that you watch the whole thing. It's 29 minutes long, but worth it.

And already there are rumblings of the sort of sour-grapes factioning that messed things up for Kerry, and Gore, and nearly messed up Bill Clinton's second term. People who supported Hillary Clinton are, here and there, making noise about not liking Obama and therefore entertaining the possibility of not voting for him.

This is unforgivable.

Barack Obama may not be the person you were hoping would get nominated for the Democrats, but it's official. And we're not going to uproot the whole two-party system in the six months between now and the general election. So it's simple, really; you have to vote for Obama. Because the alternative is unthinkable.

John McCain is an amoral, batshit insane, complete and utter motherfucker. He is a contemptible excuse for a human being, let alone an American who wants to serve in public office. He deserves to be recalled from his Senate seat, though so do many Senators. He is a liar and a warmonger and is thoroughly incompetent at the job of leading, because he doesn't want to lead.

He wants to rule.

We've had a batshit insane and totally incompetent ruler for eight years now, and look where it's gotten us: stuck in a war and a recession, neither of which those who caused them are willing to fix or even acknowledge; hated and ridiculed by nearly every other nation on Earth, scared of our own shadows, retreating into our dark living rooms with the shades drawn to spy on the neighbors and soak up passive entertainment from the idiot box in the corner. We are, in short, exactly where John McCain wants us to be. He will give us four years of the same, only more so.

Will Obama do any better? Is there any substance behind his Mr-Smith-Goes-To-Washington optimism? I don't know. I like to think so, but we can't know that until and unless we give him a chance to try. That's the point. You can't wish problems away; you have to try to fix them. And even if your fix doesn't work, you have to try something else. You have to be willing to take a chance on something or someone, because your only alternative is putting up with things the way they are. And I don't know about you, but I'm pretty goddamned sick and tired of the way things are.

So enough with the petty squabbling bullshit, okay? I'm not going to tell anyone to vote for Barack Obama. I am, however, going to beseech people to vote AGAINST John McCain. America deserves better than that piece of shit. We deserve a chance to mend.

I'm giving you a longing look...

2008-05-01T20:28:58Z

Well, here we go again. I'm still out of work and I just finished my latest freelance graphics job, so I have time on my hands. And I am under orders to get my ass going on the next novel.

The working title is Shape Shift, and it's about a werewolf. I have a good outline for it; I know what happens; I know who the characters are. Time to actually start writing the sucker.

So wish me luck, and don't expect much in the way of rants for a while. Because starting today, everyday, I write the book.

Happy Beltane, motherfuckers

2008-05-01T16:24:29Z

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

-1st Amendment, United States Constitution

The Senators and Representatives before mentioned, and the Members of the several State Legislatures, and all executive and judicial Officers, both of the United States and of the several States, shall be bound by Oath or Affirmation, to support this Constitution; but no religious Test shall ever be required as a Qualification to any Office or public Trust under the United States.

-Article VI, Section 3, United States Constitution

I do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my Ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States.

-Presidential Oath of Office, in its entirety

Today in Washington DC, the Assmonkey-In-Chief is going to get up in front of a crowd of like-minded assmonkeys and flat-out break his oath in front of the entire nation by lending credence to the disgusting idea of a National Day of Prayer.

So I got your prayer day right here: Happy Beltane, Mr. "President," and a heartfelt FUCK YOU!

The book list meme

2008-04-26T22:09:48Z

I guess this list was making the rounds last fall. It's either a list of books considered great or pretentious, depending on whom you ask.

The one's I've read are bold. The ones I've started but never finished are italic.

Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell
Anna Karenina
Crime and Punishment
Catch-22
One Hundred Years of Solitude
Wuthering Heights
The Silmarillion
Life of Pi: a novel
The Name of the Rose
Don Quixote
Moby Dick
Ulysses
Madame Bovary
The Odyssey
Pride and Prejudice
Jane Eyre
The Tale of Two Cities
The Brothers Karamazov
Guns, Germs, and Steel: the fates of human societies
War and Peace
Vanity Fair
The Time Traveler’s Wife
The Iliad
Emma
The Blind Assassin
The Kite Runner
Mrs. Dalloway
Great Expectations
American Gods
A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
Atlas Shrugged
Reading Lolita in Tehran: a memoir in books
Memoirs of a Geisha
Middlesex
Quicksilver
Wicked : the life and times of the wicked witch of the West
The Canterbury tales (in the Old English, no less)
The Historian: a novel
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man
Love in the Time of Cholera
Brave New world
The Fountainhead
Foucault’s Pendulum
Middlemarch
Frankenstein
The Count of Monte Cristo
Dracula
A Clockwork Orange
Anansi Boys
The Once and Future King
The Grapes of Wrath
The Poisonwood Bible: a novel
1984
Angels & Demons
The Inferno
The Satanic Verses
Sense and Sensibility
The Picture of Dorian Gray
Mansfield Park
One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest
To the Lighthouse
Tess of the D’Urbervilles
Oliver Twist
Gulliver’s Travels
Les Misérables
The Corrections
The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time
Dune
The Prince
The Sound and the Fury
Angela’s Ashes: a memoir
The God of Small Things
A People’s History of the United States: 1492-present
Cryptonomicon
Neverwhere
A Confederacy of Dunces
A Short History of Nearly Everything
Dubliners
The Unbearable Lightness of Being
Beloved
Slaughterhouse-five
The Scarlet Letter
Eats, Shoots & Leaves
The Mists of Avalon
Oryx and Crake: a novel
Collapse: how societies choose to fail or succeed
Cloud Atlas
The Confusion
Lolita
Persuasion
Northanger Abbey
The Catcher in the Rye
On the Road
The Hunchback of Notre Dame
Freakonomics: a rogue economist explores the hidden side of everything
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: an inquiry into values
The Aeneid
Watership Down
Gravity’s Rainbow
The Hobbit
In Cold Blood : a true account of a multiple murder and its consequences
White Teeth
Treasure Island
David Copperfield
The Three Musketeers

Now, there are several on there that I just haven't read yet. And whether you consider the books on the list great (which makes you a little pretentious) or pretentious (which makes you a little bit ignorant), any book is worth reading. Yes. Any book.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go read.

Doing my part

2008-04-15T00:28:16Z

Courtesy of Martha

2008-04-07T22:27:58Z

A survey? Sure, why not?

1. How old will you turn in 2009?
36

2. Do you think you'll be married by then?
Yes. I will still be married by then.

3. What do you look forward to most in the next 6 months?
Mostly better weather for exploring town a bit more.

4. Do you have a best friend?
More than one. I'm just that cool.

5. Last thing you bought?
TP, dental floss, and cookies, from the dollar store.

6. Do you prefer to call or text?
Text if it's something concise, call if it needs explanation.

7. Do you have any pets?
Yep, a pair of tabby cats.

8.What were you doing at 1:30 pm?
Running errands.

9. What were you doing at 3:00 am?
Sleeping.

10. When is the last time you saw your mom?
December 30, 2003.

11. What is your mood?
Irritated by the noisy painters outside and the crappy weather, but otherwise ok.

12. How many houses have you lived in?
6 houses, 13 apartments, and 4 dorm rooms.

13. Would you say you're a friendly person?
To people I like. Otherwise, I can be a real asshole.

14. Favorite food that you cook?
Grilled cheese sandwiches.

15.Who do you hate right now?
Well, there are whole groups of people I wish would just shut up and go away, but I don't wish them dead or anything. Well, kind of. If it will shut them up, then them being dead is fine I guess. I don't want to kill them or anything. Well, usually.

16.Are you missing someone?
Nope, she came home Saturday night.

17. What are your favorite shoes?
Those white ones she has with the ribbons that tie up around her ankles, that she always wears when we go on vacation... oh, or did you mean of mine?

18. What is/are your favorite TV show/s?
How I Met Your Mother, Mythbusters, and we're getting caught up on Battlestar Galactica, which is excellent.

19. What kind of jelly do you like on your PB & J sandwich?
Grape.

20. Do you like coffee?
Indeed I do.

21. What are you listening to?
Nothing at the moment. Just the rain outside.

22. Do you have an ipod?
Yeah, but it's getting old, and the battery is starting to not hold a charge so well anymore.

23.Would you love to beat someones ass right now?
Nope. Unless someone wants to give me five minutes in a room with those parents in Wisconsin who let their daughter die of diabetes while they prayed over her instead of taking her to a doctor.

24.Do you sleep on a certain side of the bed?
The side nearest the door.

25. Do you know how to play poker?
Kind of, but I'm no good and it's not something I care to waste time on learning.

26. What are you thinking about right now?
How I'm going to answer these dumb questions, and why.

27. Any plans for this weekend?
Work. The good news is I found a job. The bad news is I work weekends.

28. Have you cut your hair this week?
Nope. And I need a shave too.

29. Last pic you took?

It's a model car I'm working on.

30. Are you a tease?
This is another one of those questionnaires written by a fourteen-year-old girl, isn't it?

31. Have you ever been in an ambulance? Why?
Yes. Completely retarded circumstances. I freaked out about something at work a few years back, and a coworker thought I was having a heart attack. So she called an ambulance and they took me in to check me out.

32. Do you prefer ocean or pool?
A pool right by the ocean seems to be my favorite situation.

33. Do you smile often?
What the fuck kind of question is that? I think I smile exactly as often as I feel like smiling.

34. Do you know how to drive a stick shift?
Yep, and I prefer it.

35. What is your favorite thing to spend money on?
Travel and toys.

36. Do you wear any jewelry 24/7?
Just one. :)

37. What is your least favorite thing to spend money on?
Car insurance. It annoys me to have to pay for other people to be shitty drivers.

38. When did you last get a hug?
At lunchtime.

39. Do you like long car rides?
Yep. Although this last one was kind of a chore, 1000 miles in an overloaded SUV with two freaked-out cats. I'm looking forward to some road trips this summer, though.

40. Do you shut off the water while you brush your teeth?
Yep. I didn't used to, but I'm trying to get better about little stuff like that.

41. Do you like bacon?
Yes. But only once in a while.

42. How do you feel about Diet Dr. Pepper?
It's good, but I prefer Wild Cherry Diet Pepsi.

43. Last person to text you?
Who do you think? ;)

It's your one-way ticket to midnight

2008-04-05T00:44:37Z

I just had one of those funny little moments happen. I was on my way home, flipping thru radio stations, and landed on the classic rock station, which was playing an old Sammy Hagar song I haven't heard in forever. I turned it up, and a few seconds later made the turn onto my street.

In the turn lane facing the opposite direction was a cool old car that caught my attention: an early-Seventies Nova, in that coppery-gold color, jacked up in the back on Cragars and air shocks. I glanced at the driver... a kid probably still in his teens, sporting a sweet mullet, and bopping his head in time to the same song I was listening to. He obviously had the same station on.

I don't know if the car or the hairdo or the music came first for him, but however it happened, Nova-dude, you rule. Rock on, young savior.