Best of 3 A.M.: No more wedgies

Editor's Note: I'm pulling up some items from the archive, just for the hell of it. This one was originally posted in March of 2007. Follow the link to read more of The Best of 3A.M.



I may have mentioned this before, but I think it bears repeating.

The "wedge salad" is the most ridiculous culinary fraud ever perpetrated upon the American dining public.

I mean come on people! This isn't a salad! It's a chunk of lettuce with possibly some peppers thrown in for color. Have we become so lazy that we can't chop up the lettuce? Are we so lacking in creativity that we can't toss on a couple of cherry tomatoes or cucumbers? This is like giving someone a loaf of bread and calling it a sandwich.

How have we let our democracy get to the point where a quarter-head of lettuce is considered a salad. That's not the America I know.

Hell, that's not even Mexico.

tagged: food, lettuce, salad, fraud, culture, cuisine

Eat the rich

There was something I wanted to keyboard about a couple of weeks ago, but because I've got a good job in the city, working for the man every night and day, I didn't have time to get to it.

That's what happens with us salary types sometimes. Gotta punch the clock so you can bring home the Benjamins and, more importantly, pay the taxes without which everyone would get sick and die, starve and die, not have roads and die, or just generally freak the fuck out and die.

Ah, yes. That's what it was. I wanted to keyboard something about taxes. It was around April 15, Tax Day ... or as I call it, Pull Down My Pants and Slide On The Ice Day.

At the time there was a pretty concerted pro-tax increase public relations effort put forth by... well, who knows but the source was probably somewhere deep in the bowls of our bloated federal bureaucracy. Even a media avoider like me couldn't dodge the bevy of stories featuring "rich" people who want to pay more taxes. I first heard the NPR version of the story, but it was also pretty common in print and on blogs.

And I take the stories at face value. I mean, if the Washington Post reports …

"I'm in favor of higher taxes on people like me," declared Eric Schoenberg, who is sitting on an investment banking fortune. He complained about "my absurdly low tax rates."

… I'll take their word that this guy Schoenberg exists and that he wants to pay more taxes. According to the reporting, he's not alone.

But there's something fishy about such a sentiment. For one thing, what people like Schoenberg are saying (if they actually exist) is that they want the government to raise taxes on other people. This is a pretty common liberal viewpoint. And by liberal, I mean the current Democrats and Republicans who seem to think we can continue buying everything for everybody without having to eventually pay for it.

That's all well and good. I've pretty much started to come to grips with the fact that the battle is over and the forces of fiscal restraint have lost. Americans (those who bother to pay attention anymore) have discovered that it's easier to vote themselves other people's money and outsource their social responsibility for their neighbors to the government.

I just find it a bit silly that they feel like they have to wage a PR war to assuage their guilt. They're trying to convince me that raising taxes will be a good thing. That even the rich people want their taxes raised because they want to pay more taxes. Okay. Fine. Let the good times roll.

But here's the thing. If rich people want to pay more in taxes, they can. Now. Without any acts of congress or anything. If you're a rich bastard, you don't have to shelter all of your earnings. You don't have to hide your assets. You don't have to take the millions of deductions on your tax return.

Hell, I bet you could even write out a check for $50,000, take it to your local IRS office and just plain donate it to your government that is cash strapped because of its investments in General Motors and insane foreign wars. You'd probably even get a tax deduction for your donation.

So yeah rich people. If you're feeling guilty about not paying enough taxes, then by all means pay more. Just don't expect me to buy in to the BS that I'm getting a good value for my tax dollar.

tagged: Rich, income tax, policy, General Motors, government, Bill Gates, Warren Buffett

How do I hate thee? Let me count the ways...

The gnashing of teeth and rending of clothes is still happening today as KU fans cry in their coffee and try to get me to understand just why the Jayhoax are so awesome.

It's happening in the office, but also all over Facebook, Twitter and the rest of the Interwebs as well. And I have to thank my KU Fan friends. It's been a long time since my schadenfreude tank has been this full.

Though he's not the only one, Shane is a typical (if a bit verbose) example of KU fan's inability to get what's going on outside the KU tent.

As a KU fan, you have to expect a fair amount of ribbing from your K-State and Mizzou friends when you lose. The general tone of others when KU loses is usually harmless enough, but today, it seemed like the vitriol was downright nasty. I don’t understand it. ...

The majority of KU haters that I talk to (mostly on Twitter) say that the main reason that they hate KU is that we act entitled. I don’t get that.

Well, as a long time KU hater, I relish this opportunity to drop a some learning on my KU Fan Friends (KUFFs) like a last second Ali Farokhmanesh 3-ball.

At this point, I think its appropriate to point out that the term "hate" here is used only in the context of good-natured sports rivalries and is thus probably a misuse of the strict definition of "hate." In reality, I don't really think there's anyone or anything that I really truly "hate" -- with the possible exception of all so-called "reality" TV. I think the word "hate" is overly used in our culture. To find real hate, you probably have to go to the Middle East, or to a small isolated area of Topeka.

That is to say, it's not really "hate," it's spectator sport hate.

There are more reasons to hate KU and it's fans than there are STD-infected KU sorority girls, so I obviously can't list them all here (there's not enough room on the entire Internet).

The so-called "entitlement' Shane mentions above is pretty low on the list. There's that idiotic Rock Chalk chant. Waiving the Wheat, the fact that KU takes credit for "inventing basketball" even though James Naismith created the game while he was working in Massachusetts, the hypocrisy of claiming Wilt Chamberlain as a hero even though he was severely discriminated against while at KU.

Of course, there's the ever present smugness that we non-KU fans have to endure every freakin' year. Even when the Jayhoax predictably lose in one of the first rounds of the NCAA tourney each year, we still have to hear about "why does everyone hate us..." (you can't tell, but I'm rolling my eyes). And SNYDER HELP US if KU "actually WINS a championship. Criminy! You'd think they simultaneously found a cure for cancer, brought peace to the Middle East and invented a cold fusion battery that allows your cell phone to keep a charge for three days straight.

Of course the inability of KU fans to realize that not everyone is or wants to be a KU fan is one of the reasons that we despise you so.

But for me, the biggest reason to hate on KU, is their rich history of cheating, getting caught, and having no consequences. From hiring highly recruited players' dads as coaches, to paying for students to take tests for players, KU athletics is built upon a lack of institutional control. As the NCAA Committee on Major Infractions put it

"Major violations occurred in the men's basketball program from 2002 through 2005. During that time frame, a representative of the institution's athletics interests supplied cash, transportation, clothing and other benefits to two men's basketball student-athletes. The athletics representative befriended one of the young men while he was still a prospect, buying him clothing and meals and transporting him to a number of the institution's men's basketball contests. ..."

So, maybe I'm a little too harsh on the KUers. But I just think hating on a team because they're cheaters is a better reason that hating on someone because of the way they spell their name.

tagged: KU, cheater, basketball, Final Four, NCAA, Tournament, sports, Jayhawks, Ali Farokhmanesh

Beating up Bill

It probably shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone that the anniversary of the Bill of Rights was a couple of days ago and nobody noticed.

In a more rational time in our history, our country's founding fathers were more concerned about the corrupting influence of governmental power than they were with making sure there were no performance enhancing drugs in baseball. Because of this rational concern one of the first and most important things our federal legislature did was pass a set of constitutional amendments aimed strictly at limiting government power.

It was a great idea. Unfortunately, they forgot to include an 11th amendment that went something like "No, really. We really mean it. You can't do the stuff that these first 10 amendments say you can't do. Really. Seriously, just stop it."

With a complicit congress, our last few presidents have done a pretty good job of telling Bill of Rights to sod off. Let's review, shall we?

1. Free speech – Today you can be thrown in jail for videotaping your sister's birthday, or fined into poverty for endorsing a product on your blog. Hurray for free speech!
   
   
2. Bear arms – In a lot of places, you can still legally own a gun (at least for another year or two). Of course, "bearing" it will usually get you tossed in jail. Or worse.
   
   
3. No quartering – This is probably the only right that Americans still have intact. 1 for 3! Huzzah!
   
   
4. No unreasonable search – Oh sure, but what's a little domestic spying among comrades?
   
   
5. Due process – I guess you could say that the city of New London, Conn., went through due process before condemning, confiscating, and destroying Suzette Kelo's home at the request of a large pharmaceutical corporation. Of course, you would totally be wrong despite what the Supreme Court says.
   
   And don’t even get me started on the whole red light camera scam.
   
   
6. Speedy trial – I wonder what the kind gentlemen at Guantanamo Bay would say about this.
   
   
7. Civil trial by jury – With the low level of education in this country, I'm not so sure this is a right you would want to exercise. Besides, with the country simultaneously becoming both a police state and a nanny state, this one probably won't last long.
   
   
8. No cruel punishment – Well, unless you happen to be a "enemy combatant."
   
   
9. Rights not enumerated – Just to review, the founders were saying that, just because we're layin' it down that we have these rights in these 10 amendments, don't assume that we don't also have other rights that we haven't mentioned. Like, maybe, the right to keep the money we earn at our jobs.
   
   
10. Powers of States and people – Again to review, the founders are saying that if the Constitution doesn't say the Federal government can do something, then the Federal government can't do it. For example, neither the constitution nor any of the amendments thereof mention anything about spending $650 million to make sure everyone has a digital television converter box.

So, can we just stop referring to America as a democracy? Or even a democratic republic? I don't know what we are, but it's pretty clear the constitution has about as much authority anymore as an Bannister Mallcop.

tagged: Bill of Rights, America, Constitution, Founding Fathers, democracy, history, government

Land of the slightly free and the home of the indebted

In our ongoing social/civic/economic discussion, Xavier Onassis, my second cousin twice removed and head of the International Organization of Bald Guys with Sunglasses and Goatees (IBGSG for short), made some valid points showing how the Obama administration is pushing our country closer to what the Founding Fathers had in mind.

The current administration is ...making the painful and expensive, but necessary, investment into the social, legal, political, and physical infrastructure that facilitate our pursuit of the ideals that this country was founded on. ...With Obama at the helm, America may finally become the country it has always aspired to be.

And I can't see how anyone could argue these points.

I mean, the evidence is everywhere. Just look at the domestic spying bill Obama and his Democrats (and Republicans) have continually supported. It hearkens back to the "Spying on our own people is totally cool" clause of the U.S. Constitution written way back in 1787.

Then, of course, there's the babillion dollars we've spent bailing out businesses that, by all rights, should have been buried years ago. This is consistent with Thomas Jefferson's line in the Declaration of Independence where he writes "When in the course of screwing the country out of billions of dollars it becomes necessary to give those parties trillions more dollars for even more screwing activities..."

Also, I know all of the Founding Fathers were big supporters of huge taxes. They all believed that U.S. citizens should pay at least 55% of their annual incomes to the government, which they in turn believed should be the largest employer in the country. This was demonstrated by the Boston Tea Party, where patriots dumped boxes full of Tetley into Boston Harbor because they thought taxes were waaaaaaay too low.

Finally, the Founding Fathers were all about Americans sacrificing liberty for the illusion of security. I think it was Ben Franklin who wrote "If we restrict freedom to attain security, we will totally be able to raise taxes have huge inaugural balls and people will still kiss our asses."

So yes, XO. If the Founding Fathers were alive today, they probably wouldn't have their own blogs trying to call attention to the absurdity that our federal government has become.

tagged: government, Constitution, founding fathers, Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Franklin, Obama

Long live the king?

Yeah, yeah. I get it. Michael Jackson had a tragic life and his death was a tragedy because our culture lost a musical genius (although, I'm pretty sure Quincy Jones was the musical genius behind Jackson's best work, but anyway).

But to paraphrase Hamlet (who, for you culturally illiterate, was the author of Shakespeare, the box office hit), I come not to praise Michael Jackson, but to bury him.

Well, check that. Not to bury him, because I have a theory that I'm about to lay on you. I'm pretty sure old MJ is pulling an Elvis on us.

That's right. Despite wall-to-wall coverage to the contrary, Michael Jackson is not dead.

I'm makin' the call right now, June 27, 2009. Michael Jackson has faked his own death in an attempt to make his life easier.

What's that you say? Evidence? Well, the circumstantial evidence couldn't be more compelling.

For one thing, it's widely known that Mr. Jacko was in debt up to his synthetic plastic nose. The Wall Street Journal has reported that Mikey had roughly $400 million in debts. He'd lost The Ranch after defaulting on a $24 million loan backed by the property. So hiding some assets and faking your death would be a nifty way of starting over.

There's also an indication that Jackon wanted to get out of his 50-concert commitment in the UK. According to a former worker, he signed the deal while under the influence of painkillers. He thought he was signing for only 10 concerts.

And, much like Michael Jackson's face, there are other indications that something just ain't right. For example, there was the report of moving vans removing items from the mansion Jackson had been renting in LA. A few last minute items needed as he starts his new life perhaps? Hmmm? Just maybe???

Also, have you noticed that the majority of top downloads on iTunes now are all Michael Jackson songs and albums? Ditto for Amazon's Top Sellers in the music category. This kind of cash infusion is going to come in handy in setting up a new life.

All of the signs are out there people. Even to the most casual of observers like myself.

Ask yourself why nobody has seen Jackson's body yet. All of the reports I've seen suggest the "body" that has been presented is especially fake looking, like it's made out of plastic or wax or something.

Nope. It's already pretty obvious to me that Jackson has faked his own death to get out of dept, avoid some commitments and just basically start over. He'll probably end up moving to Cleveland and taking up residence as a local donut shop proprietor or something.

We'll soon start reading reports of "Jacko" sightings all around the country.

tagged: Michael Jackson, death, Elvis, Wall Street Journal, debt, Neverland Ranch, fake

Guest Post: Remembrance of Michael Jackson

Today's guest editorial is contributed by Dr. Perry Cox.

As a solo artist Mike Jackson (he was 50 years old people, stop calling him Michael, Mikey, Mick and Jacko), really only had two albums that were even reheeheeeeemotely listenable, and the last one came out more than 25 years ago.

Aside from that, let's face it, he was only famous for being a pedophile cosmetic surgery train wreck adored by -- if anyone -- a legion of 12-year-old girls and overly effeminate medical interns.

Now I don't mean to be harsh, but I just can't shake the feeling that our country has a lot more important stuff to worry about right now. Iiiiiiin fact, why don't I just rattle off a few things that I care more about than Mike Jackson.

Lemme see, uhh... Low-carb diets. Michael Moore. The Republican National Convention. Kabbalah and all Kabbalah-related products. Hi-def TV, the Bush daughters, wireless hot spots, 'The O.C.', the U.N., recycling, getting Punk'd, Danny Gans, the Latin Grammys, the real Grammys. Jeff, that Wiggle who sleeps too darn much! The Yankees payroll, all the red states, all the blue states, every hybrid car, every talk show host! Everything on the planet, everything in the solar system, everything everything everything everything everything everything - eve - everything that exists - past, present and future, in all discovered and undiscovered dimensions... Oh! And Hugh Jackman.

tagged: Michael Jackson, Scrubs, Perry Cox, Grammys, pop culture

I'd be happy to tell you why you're wrong

My good friend and former "Sexiest Man in Independence" is battling withdrawal symptoms (caused by missing too many hippie drum circles) with yet another repetitive, irrational call for a single global government.

There is only one path to the survival of humans on his planet. At some point, we have to have a One World Government that can enforce laws and policies that benefit everyone, everywhere, while controlling and allocating worldwide resources equally for the benefit of all.

My initial reaction was, "Oof. This again?"

Then XO gave me a glimmer of hope by hinting that he doesn't really believe 100 percent in this Utopian claptrap when he begged for people to "Tell me why I'm wrong."

Okay. I'm happy to go over this with you again.

The essential flaw in your logic thought process is that somehow in your 80 years on this planet you've failed to grasp an understanding of the most rudimentary and basic aspects the human condition.

Anyone who thinks that the notions of natural selection and evolution have even the remotest whiff of validity can see the logical flaw when they follow those concepts through to their logical conclusions.

That flaw being, humans are animals.

Now, don't take this to mean that I'm down on humanity. I love humanity. Humanity has been very good to me. Humanity has been responsible for some of the greatest artistic and technological achievements the world has ever seen.

I love humanity, and I get kind of annoyed by people who place more importance in other -ities than humanity.

The failure in the thinking feelings of Utopians like XO is that they don't recognize this very basic fact. If you want to attempt to solve the problems of humanity, you must have an honest recognition of what humanity is and what that implies.

Because humans are animals, you can expect them to behave like animals in various situations. Highly refined animals, sure, but animals nonetheless.

For example, like cattle, people won't to anything if they don't have to. If there's someone there providing all the basic needs of food, shelter and digital TV converter boxes, there's no motivation to go out and be productive. That's not to say that we shouldn't help each other out. We absolutely should. But we should help out each other, for the betterment of our species, and not shove our duties to each other on to larger and larger governmental agencies.

Additionally, if a single person (or group of people) are given charge of distributing wealth and resources on a global scale, just like pigs they'll consume all of the resources they can as quickly as possible with no regard for the needs of anyone else.

The amount of power and corruption concentrated into this hypothetical one-world government would make the Goldman Sachs-Federal Reserve-Obama Administration cabal look like a playground bully.

Concentrating government power is the complete opposite of what we should be doing. Obviously we need some government to help provide basic services. But a decentralized government, where representatives are as close as possible to the represented, is the best way to combat humanity's animal tendencies when it comes to taking other people's stuff and not doing anything productive.

In fact, multiple sovereigns, governmental and social systems is analogous to evolution's natural selection. Political boundaries are the way they are because socio-political evolution has dictated it.

tagged: politics, evolution, humanity, animals, natural selection

Serendipity do

I think it’s cool when things seem to happen for a reason.

Doesn’t have to be a great big chain of cosmic events altering the time-space continuum and creating alternate realities. Although I guess in a cosmic sense we wouldn’t really know when that sort of thing happens anyway.

What I’m talking about is those seemingly trivial, seemingly insignificant events that happen every day that just fit together so well that it makes you wonder about fate, providence, whatever.

I say they’re seemingly insignificant, but I think these chains of events happen more often than we notice. And perhaps they are more important than we think they are.

Here’s the latest example from my awesome life.

So I’m at a certain sports/entertainment event well known for the proliferation of product sponsors. I’m wandering around a concourse area when a helpful chap comes up and offers me a free sample box of Goody's Headache Powder - Cool Orange.

It's a powder (like Kool Aid) that you pour into a bottle of water, let it dissolve, then drink the potion for headache relief. Nifty idea, I thought. Wonder if it works.

I stuck the three dosage packs in my pocket, anticipating a headache later in the day from too much sun and fun. But with all the merry-making and being awesome, I soon forgot they were there and it turned out I didn’t need them anyway.

Now fast forward ten or eleven hours. It’s two in the morning and I’m returning to the hotel. I stop at the front desk to check for messages and mail. There’s another fellow talking to the front desk attendant. The woman behind the counter seems to have disappointed him, saying something like “I’m sorry sir, we just can’t give out that kind of thing here.”

But the guy is insistent.

“Look all I need is some Tylenol, or some ibuprofen or something,” he says. “My wife is next door and she’s got a terrible headache. There aren’t any stores open around here.”

I instantly remember the headache powder packets I've had in my pocket all day and it all seems too perfect. I size up the guy and quickly conclude he isn’t some kind of ibuprofen junkie. I pull the medicine out and slide it down the check-in desk counter to him.

“Try these,” I say. “I don’t know if they’ll work, but it’s better than nothing.”

He recognizes the packets and is very gracious.

“Aw thanks man!” he says. ”This is great. You’re really helping me out. I really appreciated it.”

He offers a handshake which I return.

“No problem,” I say. “Hope it helps.”

“I want to repay you. Are you going to be in town for a while?” he asks.

I tell him I leave in the morning – actually, in a few hours. But no repayment is needed.

“Well are you going to be back next week? I own the bar across the street and you can be my guest for drinks or something.”

Tempted as I am, I’m pretty well exhausted from being awesome all day, and I’m already thinking about the travel day tomorrow – er, later today. I tell him I won’t be back in town and repeat that no repayment is necessary. It's just me doin’ a solid for a brutha (hell, I didn’t pay for the stuff anyway).

And besides, I couldn’t help but mull over the possibility that God... The Universe... karma... or whatever... had me bump into the medicine marketer and get a free sample for the express purpose of delivering it to this guy’s ailing wife a few hours later.

For that matter, the entire purpose of my life could have been to be in that specific place at that particular moment with free samples of headache medicine in my pocket just at the time when someone needed free headache medicine.

That may sound trivial and unimportant, but how do I know that the guy’s wife wasn’t working on a key breakthrough in the cure for cancer and if she could just get rid of her headache she could concentrate on finally working out the solution.

Or maybe she was about to finally figure out how to achieve peace in the Middle East? Or perhaps she'd worked out a way for newspapers to make money? Or it's possible that she was about to develop a treatment for Larry Moore's extreme geezerism.

We just don’t know, is all I’m sayin’. And I couldn’t very well take payment for playing such a pivotal roll in this cosmic drama. It just wouldn't be good karma, you know?

So I left him with these words before heading up to my room.

“Look, you don’t owe me any money. But some day, and that day may never come, I’ll call upon you to do a service for me. But until that day, accept this headache medicine as a gift from me.”

tagged: fate, karma, serendipity, Goody's Headache Powder, medicine, anecdote

Obama's Big Balls FTW!

As Amy correctly and excitedly pointed out, we're down to single digits in the number of days left in our long national nightmare we call the Bush Administration.

At long last we will be free of life's slings and arrows, and a new day will dawn with tons of hopeful Hope and gobs of changing Change.

Unfortunately, some cynical narrow minded people seem bent on harshing the Democratic mellow with common sense. In an attempt to tear down the most successful American president ever, they point out how much this inaugural party is going to cost us.

But I think we should consider this $160 million odd dollar expenditure as an investment, rather than a cost.

After all, there will be no fewer than 10 official inaugural parties and dozens of unofficial ones. And it's been widely reported that these inaugural balls are the biggest celebrations of any American president. Millions of people are expected to make the trip to DC to attend one of these parties, and it can be a painful experience for a president to have so many people trying to get to his balls.

So it's understandable that Obama is approving historically high record spending for his balls.

I mean, you have to expect that when a president has balls as big as Obama's, you're going to have to pay a little extra for them. For example, when your balls are this big you can't hold them just anywhere. You have to hold your balls in the proper venue. And let's face it, those venues can be expensive.

Furthermore, you don't get hotties like Beyonce to come to your balls unless you're willing to pay for it. Celebrity luminaries like Bono and Denzel Washington aren't going to waste their time on tiny little balls. They need balls they can really sink their teeth into.

And don't even think about getting your balls broadcast on national network television unless you're willing to open up your pocketbook.

In his defense we should point out that to a significant extent private parties are paying for Obama's balls. It's only fair and appropriate that the Wall Street executives whose companies have received billions of dollars in federal bailout money should kick a little of that back to Obama's balls.

So even though the economy is in the crapper, average Americans are losing their jobs, houses and dignity, raise your glass to our new president and the way he's handling his huge balls.

tagged: Obama, inauguration, ball, Beyonce, money, politics, change

Buddy can you spare some change

At first I thought it was very precious. So cute how everybody was all touchy-feely about what they had done.

It was kind of like being a parent watching the kids open presents on Christmas morning. They get so happy about some cheap plastic trinket that will be broken before the end of January.

You let them have their moment. It's so easy to please them and they don't know any better anyway.

But then I remembered that these aren't children. They're grown adults. They should know better.

I became increasingly disappointed as I read phrases like...

I don't think there was a dry eye in the room after Obama's speech.

I watched that speech with tears in my eyes. This is something that people will remember for a very long time. We’ll tell future generations about watching this election and I feel blessed to be a part of it.

This is the most important day in my over half a century on this planet..

This is something I don't understand. There are people out there who actually think "history has been made." Mature people, ostensibly rational people who should know better than to make decisions based on emotion. People who are old enough to have learned from the previous seven to 10 elections.

But aside from the fact that by definition history is made every day, the only thing remarkable about this election is that Obama is black.

For some people that's enough. Heck, for some people that's the only thing that matters.

As for history and the big "change" that everyone is expecting, I'm surprised that so many are so naïve to think that any real change will actually happen.

Politicians are still beholden to the money of special interests. With Obama, even more so.

They will promise the voters all kinds of new, expensive programs, inexplicably paid for by lower taxes. With Obama, even more so.

Sure, there has been a change in which party is in control of one of the branches of government. But to accept that as a real change, you have to convince yourself that there is a difference between the two parties, an accomplishment that takes a monumental act of self-deception and willful disregard of history.

It's like a Royals fan, believing each spring that their team will be in a pennant race at the end of the season despite years of evidence to the contrary. The difference is that despite the behavior of the vast majority of the electorate, politicians and news media, this isn't baseball.

If we want real improvement, we need to stop looking at national politics like it's a team sport or the latest season of Dancing with the Stars.

But we don't really want real improvement, do we.

My thoughts to be continued tomorrow...

related:

• Meet the old boss, same as the new boss
• The very model of a modern hypocritical
• Meet the old boss, same as the new boss (Part II)

tagged: election, vote, politicians, change, money,

The Undeciders

There's been a lot of invective thrown around the blogiverse about undecided voters.

Incredulous statements have come from both fake sides of the fake political coin. People just don't get how someone can be undecided in a campaign that has lasted two years and wasted billions of dollars.

People like Opinionatrix are fed up with undecided voters' reluctance to buy the steaming pile of monkey crap being flung by the McCain and Obama campaigns:

"In an adult undecided voter it’s a downright stupid and attention getting ploy... Unfortunately for you guys, the rest of us have already mastered the skill of decision making and are thus a bit ahead in the game of life."

Then there's the oft-quoted David Sedaris, who I'll quote here because everyone else has:

I think of being on an airplane. The flight attendant comes down the aisle with her food cart and, eventually, parks it beside my seat. “Can I interest you in the chicken?” she asks. “Or would you prefer the platter of shit with bits of broken glass in it?”

To be undecided in this election is to pause for a moment and then ask how the chicken is cooked.

I mean, really, what’s to be confused about?

I think Mr. Sedaris is the one who is confused. His metaphor would be more accurate if the flight attendant were offering a choice between a shit platter on the one hand and a bowl of warmed up shit soup with a side of crap crackers on the other.

This is the dilemma we have. Both candidates are horrible. Neither one has more executive experience than my left nut. Each says he's different from the other guy, but they aren't really.

They both think that only the government can save Americans from certain doom. They both want to take more of your money to do it. Remind me again which one of these guys voted AGAINST giving a babbillion dollars to the people most responsible for the current economic melt down.

If either one, when elected, takes any steps to restore constitutional rights abused by the current administration (with full complicity of the Democratic majority in Congress) I'll eat my hat.

So given this Sophie's Choice of an election, my biggest question is how can anyone be so gung-ho about their candidate as to mock the people who are trying to decide whether they want to take a kick in the crotch or punch in the pubes.

The answer of course is that most people who have already decided, decided before they knew anything about either candidate. They're voting for their candidate for the same reason that drunk rowdy football fans cheer for their teams.

Sounds very intellectual and sophisticated, doesn't it?

tagged: election, politics, David Sedaris, Obama, McCain

Elitistical

I was having a beer the other day with my friend Bob Sacamanto.

Bob's a great guy. Hard working, pretty smart, great sense of humor, heck of a dancer. But he doesn't follow politics very closely. Obviously he has better things to do.

This sometimes makes him susceptible to the more subtle claptrap that the political partisans slop into the feeding trough of American pop culture on a 24-hour cycle.

As we nursed our Boulevards, Bob pointed out that he heard someone criticizing someone else for using the term "elitists" in a pejorative sense.

"It's like the guy said. What's wrong with being an elitist? Aren't elitists the best people in society? Isn't it the elitists who make the big discoveries? Don't we send the elitist troops in for the special, dangerous missions?" Bob said.

"Don't we actually want the elitists to run our government?"

My friend Bob Sacamanto actually fell for the exact rhetorical trap that some of the partisans wanted him to. Not his fault. Like I say, when you don't automatically assume that every politician is full of crap, it's easy to get sucked in by these things.

I'm a patient guy, so I just clarified it for him.

"Well, you see Bob, what you're missing (and what the partisans want you to miss) is that being an elitist isn't the same thing as being elite.

"Sure, the elite fighter pilots are the best. The elite football players make the most money. The elite chess players... well they get beat up a lot.

"But in general, the elite are considered the top of their various fields of endeavor.

"However, an elitist isn't necessarily elite. An elitist is someone of normal to below normal intelligence who thinks they are elite.

"Sometimes they don't realize they are elitist. They actually believe they are better than everyone else.

"But often (especially in the political world), they know they are not elite, which ironically makes them even more elitist.

"So when one partisan uses the word "elitist" as an epithet, she is referring to people who claim to have some kind of special insight or right to rule over others, tell them what's good for them, spend their money and make bad decisions on their behalf."

Bob Sacamanto paused for a moment and took another pull from his beer as he considered the revelation. He actually looked kind of frustrated to have fallen for this subtle trick. So I thought I'd try to cheer him up a little with one more thought.

"Of course, it's completely hypocritical for someone proposing expanded government programs and massive taxing/spending to "help the people" to call someone else an elitist."

tagged: politics, elitist, elite, politicians, election

Journey man

Against my better judgment, I watched the KMBC so-called local so-called news tonight. It's just been so long since I've had a good dose of homeless pet coverage, and I wanted to subject myself to the sickening stream of political ads.

I'm crazy like that.

So any way, anchorgeezer Larry Moore led off the news with the story of Keith Slater, the 22 year-old KC resident who found a racial slur printed on his receipt after returning a pair of shoes at the Journeys store in Overland Park's Oak Park Mall.

This isn't going to be a commentary on KMBC's coverage, although you can bet your Kenneth Cole's that since the story went national they'll be blanketing their coverage with senseless follow-up stories for the rest of the week.

Rather I just wanted to ask, nay implore, Slater's parents to take a higher road on this issue. Sure, they have every right to be pissed off. Who doesn't get angry when called a name -- even more so for a racially charged one.

But KMBC aired footage of a room full of local media hacks invited into Slater's home where his father threw out not-so-veiled threats of a lawsuit against a store that was clearly screwed by an employee (an employee who has been summarily and rightfully fired).

This goes dangerously close to perpetuating a stereotype.

So please, Slater family, don't play the role of the victim on this. Please don't wax melodramatic about your pain and suffering and the pain and suffering of your children.

Instead, be magnanimous and accept the store's apology. Lament the fact that this kind of thing can still happen in our day and age and try to make something positive out of it.

Teach your son that there are assholes in the world, but he doesn't have to be one. Teach him that he isn't defined by someone's ignorant opinion of him, but rather by the way he treats others.

Teach him, when being hated, not to give way to hating. Teach him to battle a stereotype by showing that the stereotype isn't true.

But don't be swayed by a pack of slimy lawyers trying to cash in on an insulting incident. Doing so may give you an extra 15 minutes of fame. But is that really what you want to be famous for?

tagged: race, Slater, Journeys, Kansas City, Overland Park, Oak Park Mall

Galtian response

I was having a virtual conversation with a couple of guys the other day after the So-Called Government announced the $64 brajillion bailout of AIG.

I was going off on an irrational rant (as I am known to do) about how the So-Called Government is always bailing everyone out and that’s why people had no problem borrowing more than they could even unreasonably afford knowing that the So-Called Government would be there to buy them out if when the financial shit inevitably hits the fan.

This guy rightly pointed out that most people didn't "know" the government would bail them out of their mortgages, although the banks probably knew the So-Called Government WOULD bail THEM out.

This is true, and I forgot to give props for that. So, Bull, yes. You’re right that most people didn't consciously and premeditatively go into their super-balloon payment ARM mortgages with the idea of ripping off the bank and the taxpayer.

But I guess what I and an unfortunately small minority of others are so frustrated about is this on-going and really unacknowledged dependence that the American Public has developed on the So-Called Government.

Run your auto company into the ground? Don’t worry, the So-Called Government will fix it. Airline tanking? Don’t worry, the So-Called Government will give you some money.

Did your bank lose a bundle in a mortgage pyramid scheme? Hey, no problem, the So-Called Government is buying mortgage companies this week.

You say your house was destroyed in a hurricane because you built it below sea level? Let the So-Called Government help you rebuild it under sea level again.

Look people, let’s not kid ourselves into thinking we don’t live in a socialist republic. Hell, I'm not even so sure about the "republic" part anymore. Everyone is on the public dole, from the richest corporate CEO’s to the rural beet farmer.

And the majority of people seem to think that’s okay.

Years ago I read Atlas Shrugged. Now, I know the pseudo-philosophy of Ayn Rand has been roundly debunked, but I can’t help feeling like we’re living the plot of that (at times tedious) novel. How long before the few, productive members of society just get sick of funding the moochers.

In the book, the So-Called Government took over more and more industries – banking, steel, mining, transportation – for the good of the people of course. Finally the productive people said “fuckit” and started their own country in wild and unexplored Colorado.

Reading the novel, I remember thinking Rand was a passable writer and the concepts are interesting food for thought on a conceptual level. The characters were pretty melodramatic, one-dimensional and not very complex, so I never really attributed any real-world significance to them.

After the last few months, I’m not so sure.

Anyone have any unused ranch land in Colorado for sale?

tagged: economy, politics, culture, America, government, Ayn Rand, Atlas Shrugged

Bumper? Hell I just met her.

The panicked squeal of the dog was followed instantly by the sound of something dragging behind my car along the gravel driveway.

I immediately stopped, fearing the death (or at least serious dismemberment) of one of my parents two Labradors. The two dogs, one a highly intelligent jet black lab named Rain and the other a chocolate lab named B.U.D. (acronym for Brown Ugly Dog) had run across the driveway as we pulled in for a Labor Day visit.

I had slowed down to let them pass before continuing to a parking place. I knew that as long as Rain was the leader, everything should be fine. B.U.D. was a different story. He couldn't be trusted to make good decisions.

I'm not sure how much in-breeding there is in his questionable lineage. I just know that in the parlance of rural Kansas, he's dumber than a bag of hair.

So when I heard the loud canine yelp and the dragging sound from the rear of the car, my first thought was that I was going to have to perform an act of euthanasia on a half-wit dog that had decided to lay down under my car.

I actually felt sorry for the poor beast as I shifted the car into Park, and I wondered how I would explain this to the five-year-old dog lover in the backseat.

My entire perspective changed when I saw what was lying on the ground behind my car. The plastic bumper (which is actually the bumper cover) was torn from the driver's side, just behind the rear tire, across the back of the car and was dangling by a few plastic clips on the passenger's side rear.

A chocolate Brown Ugly Dog, was sitting nearby, dumbly drooling and wagging his tail, seeming almost proud of the destruction he had caused. It didn't take the intelligence of a black lab to quickly size up the situation:

The two dogs had run across the driveway in front of my car. But B.U.D. was latched to a dog cable, probably due to his severe stupidity to keep him from roaming the countryside and running out to greet oncoming semi trucks on the highway a quarter-mile away.

So when he crossed the driveway, he took the cable attached to his neck with him. My car tires rolled over the cable -- front tires first, then rear tires. As soon as the cable cleared the rear tires, the dog pulled tight on the line. It became stuck on the rear fender and easily pulled the entire bumper cover off the car.

What I initially took for a yelp of panic, probably was a yelp of triumph. A canine half-wit's way of saying "Hurray, look what I did!"

So after a few minutes of suppressing my cursing reflex, I made the call to AAA. I gave them the info, they said get and estimate on Tuesday and they'll cover the cost of the repair (after I pay my $500 deductible, of course).

So it takes a couple of weeks for the body shop to get the parts in and get the work done. I'm supposed to pick up my car with a shiny new bumper cover today, and I'm only out $500 bucks.

Oh, and just to prove that God's Irony Ray was aimed squarely at me, this all happened the week after we made the final payment on the car.

Hilarious.

tagged: car, accident, bumper, dog, body shop

Seat neighbor lotto

After a half hour delay in the terminal while US Airways replaced the duct tape on engine #2 of the San Francisco-bound A320 out of Phoenix, I was sitting in my window seat waiting for the other passengers to board.

A middle-aged woman was seated in the aisle seat in my row, with the middle seat still unoccupied. As I was enjoying a "carry-on cocktail" that I was able to sneak down the jetway, a voice came over the cabin intercom telling my fellow travelers and I that “we have a full flight today, so please place small carry-on items under the seat in front of you.”

Oy! Full flight, and me with the window seat. The only thing that could be worse is if I had the middle seat.

As passengers kept filing on, filling up the overhead bins and moving to seats in the rear of the plane, I began playing the seat neighbor lottery game with myself. You know how this goes, you take a look at each person that comes through the four “first class” rows, quickly sizing them up and mentally calculating how pleasant it would (or wouldn’t) be to have them sitting uncomfortably close to you for the next two hours.

The criteria are obvious. The smaller the better. You don’t want a huge person illegally crossing the armrest boarder and invading the sovereign territory of your seat. Don't get me wrong. God knows I'm no delicate flower myself. I'm reasonable, but COME ON PEOPLE!

Younger is better, too. I don’t need a hacking geriatric sitting next to me, devouring my soul with excruciatingly tedious stories about the olden days, coughing up a lung and generally harshing my mellow.

If you’re a dude, you’re hoping for a passenger of the female persuasion, because who wants to sit next to a guy smelling of cheap cologne. In fact, I suspect that if you’re a chick, you’re hoping to avoid sitting next to dudes as well. Let’s face it people, women are just a lot more pleasant to be around that guys.

Of course, it doesn’t hurt if they’re easy on the eyes. It may sound shallow (because it is), but nobody wants to sit next to Quasimodo through two time zones. Although, taking all factors into account, I’d rather sit next to a small ugly chick than a big, good-looking guy.

Anyway, knowing my luck, I was expecting a John Candy look-alike to win the lottery for the seat next to me. Each time a petite fox (do people still use that word?) came through, I would watch her continue to the back of the cabin or take a seat a few rows forward. Then a large ogre would saunter through with two gigantic carry-ons and I just knew he was coming for my row.

Then the line of passengers started to slow down. The saccharine sweet voice of the gate agent announced over the intercom “Passenger boarding is complete. Flight attendants, please secure the cabin for takeoff.”

“What’s this?” I thought to myself.

I began to feel a sense of what passes for excitement in the livestock shipping world of business travel. Could it be that I have a chance at winning the biggest prize in the seat-neighbor lottery? No, I dare not even hope that it might be the case. I dare not put my faith in fate only to have my hopes dashed at the last second.

But as the minutes passed, and fewer and fewer passengers were left to take their seats, I started to hope against all odds.

Finally, only one person remained. He was a smallish, athletic looking middle-aged man wearing casual khakis and a knit shirt. He stopped a few rows in front of me to jam his oversized carry on bag into not enough room in the overhead bin. Forcing the door of bin shut, he looked down into the cabin.

He walked closer, closer. I knew at that point he would sit next to me. It’s a full flight, after all. There’s one passenger left and hence, only one seat.

But NO! He kept walking! Turns out his seat was in the very back next to the twin lavatories (worst seats on the plane, my friends).

And now there was no doubt about it, I would spend the next two hours with room to stretch out my legs into the center seat. I would have plenty of elbow room, a place to put my magazines, room to pull out my laptop and get some work done.

I had won the jackpot in the seat neighbor lottery.


tagged: travel, US Airways, Phoenix, William Shatner, Airplane

Olympics, schmolympics

A lot of people have been sharing their thoughts about the Olympics. Everyone seems to have caught the Olympic fever.

Me? I just can't seem to get into it. Believe me, I've tried. But I don't know, everything just seems so corporate and overproduced.

I've tried to be interested. Hell, with five or six channels of Olympic coverage, they certainly make it easy to follow. Problem is, every time I try to tune in on the teevee machine, I end up tuning out mentally.

But with the closing ceremonies starting today, or tomorrow, or within the next few days or whatever, I thought I'd give a few thoughts on what little I have seen.

Here's what I managed to force myself to sit through:

• Part of the opening ceremonies: I saw that part where 2,008 Chinese guys were pounding drums in unison. Impressive? Yes. Scary?... Well, let me just say that it's not a huge leap to go from carrying a drum mallet to carrying a rifle. You tellin' me you don't think that was a military display?
  
  
• Synchronized diving: What? I'm sorry but this must be one of the lamest of the so-called sports. Yes, I agree that the athletes are... well.. athletic. But is it a sport? More on this later.
  
  
• Bob Costas: Am I the only one who thinks Bobski looks like he's suffering from a case of permanent jet lag? Could be just the High Definition TV, but he's looked really tired every time I've seen him (about three times). Also, does he wear a hairpiece now?
  
  
• Michael Phelps: Did you notice how nobody gives a crap about swimming when the Olympics aren't going on? Still, good job for Mr. Phelps on his history-setting performance. But if I know the American viewing public (and let's face it, I AM the American viewing public), nobody will remember his name when the next season of Deal or No Dancing with America's Top Survivor Idol starts.
  
  
• That weird sport that is kind of like hockey on a basketball court but without sticks and using soccer goals: What the hell is the deal with that sport anyways?
  
  
• Women's gymnastics: I guess having an American get screwed by the Chinese judges should piss me off. Unfortunately, I couldn't give less of a shit about these dwarf women swinging around on bars. Look, I don't even consider gymnastics to be much a sport. Sure, like the divers, they're athletic. But for me, if a judge (or panel of judges) is making subjective decisions on wins, then that makes it more of an exhibition than a competition. As you saw the other night, the judges have too much influence on the outcome. Now, show me full contact sudden death gymnastics and you'll have my attention.
  

tagged: Olympics, gymnastics, handball, Michael Phelps, drums, Bob Costas

Tails of the weird

I squinted skeptically as I heard the story relayed to me fourth-hand.

My Supermodel Wife had heard it from my mother-in-law who had relayed it from my my SMW's grandmother who had heard it from my SMW's uncle. If you had trouble following that, don't worry. It's all relative.

Anyway, the point is I was about four degrees removed from the horses mouth on this one, and as REO Speedwagon reminds us, tales grow taller on down the line.

But here's what I heard (this makes you guys fifth in line): SMW's uncle was swathing wheat (whatever that means) on the family farm in north central Kansas. As he was driving the swather around the field, he saw a strange looking animal running around.

It was about the size of a small dog, but hairless with a naked tail like a rat and gnarly looking fangs. He took note but, as he had a lot of field to mow and a limited amount of daylight, he kept swathing.

Then, some time later, he felt something hit the blades of the swather in a way that plants usually don't. Getting down, he saw that the animal had been nesting in the field and that he had run over it, slicing it in half with the farm implement.

He told the story to his mother (my SMW's grandmother), who told my mother-in-law, who told my SMW, who told me (stick with me here, I know it's confusing), she (grandmother) noted that she had seen a similar critter skulking around her farmhouse nearby, and that it had eaten one of her chickens.

Anyway, upon inspecting the bisected corpse, my uncle-in-law noticed how strange looking the animal was. It didn't look like anything he had seen around those parts. Hairless, big fang in the middle of its mouth, rat-like tail, about the size of a coyote, eats chickens.

I know what your thinking, and it's not Mark Mangino. My uncle-in-law came to the conclusion that it was none other than the legendary Chupacabra.

They've been spotted before, and in case you're not a watcher of late-night sci-fi television, here's a blurb from wikipedia:

Chupacabra is a legendary cryptid rumored to inhabit parts of the Americas. It is associated more recently with sightings of an allegedly unknown animal in Puerto Rico, Mexico, and the United States, especially in the latter's Latin American communities.

The name comes from the animal's reported habit of attacking and drinking the blood of livestock, especially goats. Physical descriptions of the creature vary. Eyewitness sightings have been claimed as early as 1990 in Puerto Rico, and have since been reported as far north as Maine, and as far south as Chile. Most biologists and wildlife management officials view the chupacabra as an urban legend.

You can understand my skepticism. I would have had the same reaction if they said they had sliced Bigfoot in half.

No. In my expert opinion we have a coyote, possibly suffering from a genetic condition known as "larrymoritis", with severe case of the mange.

But, as many of you already know, my motto is "Be skeptical, but keep an open mind, and pass the whiskey." So I'm just going to put this out there for you guys to decide for yourselves.

Oh, c'mon. You knew there would be pictures...



tagged: chupacabra, chupacabre, legend, monster, photo, animal, science

The Evil Prints

As some of you may be aware, I've been working for several years on an evil plan to take over the world.

If you're not aware of that now, don't worry, you soon will become painfully aware when I unleash my… oh, well, there will be time for that later (mwahahahhah, cough, er…). Anyway, I digress.

Typically I try to keep my evil secret plans, well, secret. Like the time I was able to insert a certain one of my minions into the head position of the ALL POWERFUL Kansas City Missouri Parks Board (and I would have gotten away with it if it weren't for those pesky kids and that dog!)

But again I digress.

What I was going to say is that I had a HUGELY Evil victory at the office this morning, and uncharacteristically I wanted to share it with you so that you can bask with me in my supreme evilness.

It all started as I sat at my Evil computer monitor studying some Evil spreadsheets and Evil quarterly plans. There were a few documents that I need to evilly send to the shared printer that all of the cube dwellers on my floor share.

So, with an evil, maniacal laugh which surely would have sent shivers of fear down the spines of my unwitting cube neighbors had any of the slackers bothered to show up on time for work, I hit the print button (with much evilness).

I gave the computers and printers a minute or two to crunch through my evil print job. I then headed over to the printer to pick up the documents as they came out, lest anyone find them and discover my nefarious plot.

When I arrived at the printer, I discovered that some unfortunate soul had incurred my wrath by leaving their print job unattended. It had created a printer error and backed up the entire print queue for about an hour and a half.

My evil documents were all at the end of the long queue, which wasn't even moving because of the printer error created by user THX1138.

Now, you lame do-gooders would have tried to help out poor, pathetic THX1138. You would have tried to find the 11x17 paper that he foolishly tried to print his documents on and placed it in Paper Tray 3 and pressed “C” to continue the print job as the error message suggested.

But that’s not how we Evil geniuses roll.

Instead, I did something completely Evil. I pressed the “Cancel” button, consigning THX1183’s print job to the depths of oblivion, never to be seen again.

MHWAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAA.

But I wasn't finished yet. Only now will the entire population of office workers (who were trying to print documents to that printer) see the true power of my Evilocity!

Because next I went through the backed up print queue and found my print jobs and PROMOTED THEM to a higher priority than all of the jobs in front of me!

So my Evil documents came out before the documents of the sucky saps who sat by and did nothing about the printer error!

And behold! My Evil documents were printed and I went back to my Evil cube to continue my Evil day’s work so I could get back to my evening hobby of TAKING OVER THE WORLD!!!!

MHWAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAA. AHHHHHAAHAHAHAA! HAAHAHHAAAAHAaaaaa.... (ouch, it hurts my throat when I laugh like that too much).

tagged: office, evil, printer, THX1138, Nazgul, Office Space, Sauron