Light brown footwear and owl accessories cause my hands to unconsciously clench into fists. This has caused me to wax nostalgic about simpler times before my birth when mods and rockers would tear otherwise peaceful English coastal towns apart with destructive riots. That's when it hit me (the idea, not a rocker)... Punks vs Hipsters!
This problem must be solved as our forefathers solved so many problems before us, with violent riots that accomplish nothing. A punk and a hipster within eye line of each other is enough... then it is ON! i want to see ironic mustaches collected the same way indians collected scalps, the more skin attached the better. i want to see carabiner key chains torn off of belt loops and used as weapons against the owner. i want to see tears pouring out from behind gigantic Ray Bans as you pour their PBR's down the sewer.
These hipsters are not the counter-culture, they are vain fashion victims. In the 80's they would wear pink polo shirts with popped collars. In the 90's they would wear XXL clothes with Looney Toones characters on them.
Sure the hipsters greatly outnumber punks but come on... they are hipsters. One punk should be able to take on, what, like five hipsters? Will this solve the problem of this new neo-ironic plague? Absolutely not. But hey, it would feel good and there are so many empty storefronts these days due to our economic depression that a riot causing destruction to said storefronts would not in any way impact commerce.
Bring it on: Punks vs Hipsters!
Nov 18, 2010
Nov 9, 2010
So Do Washing Machines
i was born to fight. Generations of Irish struggle with a little German thrown in to top it off. Fighting my way into this world i broke my mum's tailbone on the way out.
i remember the first time i was bullied. i came home from school and told my parents what happened. My da showed me how to make a fist, and my mum taught me the places you could hit anyone - no matter how big - that would stop them in their tracks. From that day on me, nor anyone around me, got bullied without a fight: either physical or mental.
That is the thing about bullies, they want to intimidate but do not look for fights so no matter how i ended up by the end of it, there was never a repeat bullying. If they know you will fight every time they will leave you be, you become too much of a hassle for them.
i realize that i never stopped anyone from being a bully, for i have no control over other people. What i did do, however, was stop those i know from being bullied and that is really the best i can do. Ultimately this even lead me to defending my siblings from the biggest bullies of all: my parents.
There are no shortage of bullies in the world, even as you grow old, so i have never had a retirement party from this black knight's calling. With age, though, this has come to take it's toll. Those who wish to intimidate and take advantage of others are truly a renewable resource. There is an endless supply. My energy is finite, my fists damaged, and my mind is showing it's wear.
i have been trying to be more selective in my stands, and today at work i had to take a stand. The problem is although i am highly skilled at turning it on, turning it off takes some time. Once i have done what i need to i really have to ride off into the sunset and spend time alone until the Hulk turns back into a man. Life rarely gives me this kind of time.
At tonight's game i got a bit worked up while sitting on the sidelines as a sub. A call was made against a player on the other team and they refused to acknowledge it. So i got vocal. A member of our team who happens to be our best player and also, at times, our most annoyingly bossy told me bluntly to calm down. Yelling at an angry person to calm down may be the most counter-productive option possible.
We went back and forth briefly with recommendations for one another on who should mind who's business. Infighting on a team is always a bad scene. It was a ridiculous mini-scene lasting less than a minute caused by three assholes: the other team's cheater, me, and my teammate. A brief occurrence but i am still frustrated by it now as i should be falling asleep.
It is just not worth it. Should people cheat? NO. Should people tell others what to do? NO. Should i let people i do not care about cause me to lose any sleep? NO.
i know the answers to all these question all too well, yet i still struggle. i watch those aging all around me become numb, complacent, and uninvolved. This scares me even more than the fear of looking like an asshole. i would far rather people think ill of me for caring too much than fade into a void of indifference.
If you see me with a machete in my hand do not worry, your limbs are safe. It just means that i am trying to forge a new path. One where i continue to care but where maybe some of the fight gets lost in the brush.
i remember the first time i was bullied. i came home from school and told my parents what happened. My da showed me how to make a fist, and my mum taught me the places you could hit anyone - no matter how big - that would stop them in their tracks. From that day on me, nor anyone around me, got bullied without a fight: either physical or mental.
That is the thing about bullies, they want to intimidate but do not look for fights so no matter how i ended up by the end of it, there was never a repeat bullying. If they know you will fight every time they will leave you be, you become too much of a hassle for them.
i realize that i never stopped anyone from being a bully, for i have no control over other people. What i did do, however, was stop those i know from being bullied and that is really the best i can do. Ultimately this even lead me to defending my siblings from the biggest bullies of all: my parents.
There are no shortage of bullies in the world, even as you grow old, so i have never had a retirement party from this black knight's calling. With age, though, this has come to take it's toll. Those who wish to intimidate and take advantage of others are truly a renewable resource. There is an endless supply. My energy is finite, my fists damaged, and my mind is showing it's wear.
i have been trying to be more selective in my stands, and today at work i had to take a stand. The problem is although i am highly skilled at turning it on, turning it off takes some time. Once i have done what i need to i really have to ride off into the sunset and spend time alone until the Hulk turns back into a man. Life rarely gives me this kind of time.
At tonight's game i got a bit worked up while sitting on the sidelines as a sub. A call was made against a player on the other team and they refused to acknowledge it. So i got vocal. A member of our team who happens to be our best player and also, at times, our most annoyingly bossy told me bluntly to calm down. Yelling at an angry person to calm down may be the most counter-productive option possible.
We went back and forth briefly with recommendations for one another on who should mind who's business. Infighting on a team is always a bad scene. It was a ridiculous mini-scene lasting less than a minute caused by three assholes: the other team's cheater, me, and my teammate. A brief occurrence but i am still frustrated by it now as i should be falling asleep.
It is just not worth it. Should people cheat? NO. Should people tell others what to do? NO. Should i let people i do not care about cause me to lose any sleep? NO.
i know the answers to all these question all too well, yet i still struggle. i watch those aging all around me become numb, complacent, and uninvolved. This scares me even more than the fear of looking like an asshole. i would far rather people think ill of me for caring too much than fade into a void of indifference.
If you see me with a machete in my hand do not worry, your limbs are safe. It just means that i am trying to forge a new path. One where i continue to care but where maybe some of the fight gets lost in the brush.
Nov 8, 2010
Departing
About a year ago now at a family get together a few of us somehow got into a side conversation. One group, consisting most notably of my dad and my wife, felt that people are typically good and used the example of how when shit hits the fan there's usually people around willing to help. The other side, consisting most notably myself and my uncle, felt that people are genuinely selfish and that there are just enough of us good people around to help out when shit hits the fan.
Every day since i have become more and more convinced of my stance. So far our society has survived because that small percentage of empathetic people making up our population have been enough to get our species through those tough times. The majority just care about themselves.
The majority would have kept slavery, but the minority were able to abolish it. The majority would not have allowed women to vote, but the minority won that victory. i am proud to be a member of the empathetic yet strong minority. The day i find myself in the majority is the day i realize i have truly fucked up.
But now as our population rises above 6.5 billion i fear our numbers may be too small to compensate for the selfish majority. When same-sex marriage passes, the majority come in and repeal it. The idiotic democrats could not pass climate legislation when they had control and now with the current politicians-elect this seems a highly unlikely feat at best. In my opinion it is now too late at this point to avoid the worst of climate change effects.
But it is all OK because the iPad came out. Drug stores and banks are being built on every street corner. Christmas sales are starting far before black friday. Keep buying into the idea that an economy can perpetually grow.
People are trying to change the rules for people who deserve to be in jail while ignoring the child that is capable of changing the world.
As i sit hear typing, while in the background an ex-president lies with a smirk on his face about the things he did, i wonder if i am just destroying myself by trying to help people who do not want to be saved.
For now i think i need to insulate myself from the general selfish public by spending more time with people who care as i do. Maybe for just long enough to recharge my battery. Maybe for the rest of my life. Maybe go fuck yourself (thanks for that one Marky Mark).
Every day since i have become more and more convinced of my stance. So far our society has survived because that small percentage of empathetic people making up our population have been enough to get our species through those tough times. The majority just care about themselves.
The majority would have kept slavery, but the minority were able to abolish it. The majority would not have allowed women to vote, but the minority won that victory. i am proud to be a member of the empathetic yet strong minority. The day i find myself in the majority is the day i realize i have truly fucked up.
But now as our population rises above 6.5 billion i fear our numbers may be too small to compensate for the selfish majority. When same-sex marriage passes, the majority come in and repeal it. The idiotic democrats could not pass climate legislation when they had control and now with the current politicians-elect this seems a highly unlikely feat at best. In my opinion it is now too late at this point to avoid the worst of climate change effects.
But it is all OK because the iPad came out. Drug stores and banks are being built on every street corner. Christmas sales are starting far before black friday. Keep buying into the idea that an economy can perpetually grow.
People are trying to change the rules for people who deserve to be in jail while ignoring the child that is capable of changing the world.
As i sit hear typing, while in the background an ex-president lies with a smirk on his face about the things he did, i wonder if i am just destroying myself by trying to help people who do not want to be saved.
For now i think i need to insulate myself from the general selfish public by spending more time with people who care as i do. Maybe for just long enough to recharge my battery. Maybe for the rest of my life. Maybe go fuck yourself (thanks for that one Marky Mark).
Oct 18, 2010
October Refresh
Yup... good olde creative October. Time to up the ante here on 1PunkMonk. New banner (not as in will turn into the hulk if angry) and some more regular updates. Low rent as usual. All pretty like is not very punk-like now is it.
Happy fall!
Happy fall!
Aug 12, 2010
Tendons and Tenderness
Anyone who has played soccer for long enough has inevitably twisted an ankle. When this happens the trick is to keep playing. Do not go down. Keep running, keep kicking, keep tackling, just do not sit down. Otherwise you will end up out for the game.
Yeah it hurts to keep playing on it but it will keep working as long as you keep moving. The human body is an amazing thing. Once the game is over, however, get yourself home as quick as possibly and get yourself somewhere comfortable QUICK with an ice pack handy. Once you come to rest your ankle will hurt like a muthafucker and instantly triple in size. From that moment on you are trapped wherever you may be. Lowering your foot or attempting to put any weight on it after that point and you will (to borrow from Walter) be entering a world of pain.
i recently realized that ankles are not the only things that behave in this fashion. My significant other is thankfully in a very healthy stretch after a hand full of tough years battling disease. i had no option but to keep running. Keep kicking. Keep tackling. i could not let the team down (not that their was a sub available anyway).
Although the season is not over that game is finished at least. Much like with my ankle i am paying the price of delaying the pain and like any swollen joint, i have lost the ability to function at one hundred percent. Not only did i not get myself somewhere comfortable quickly enough but i never applied ice. Because of this the healing process is taking longer than it would have if i had taken proper care of myself.
i have gotten very good over the years at wrapping ankles. i never really figured out how to tape up emotions for extra support. i may limp around for a bit but as long as i can rest it up a bit and take it easy i imagine i can get into fighting shape in time for the next big game.
Yeah it hurts to keep playing on it but it will keep working as long as you keep moving. The human body is an amazing thing. Once the game is over, however, get yourself home as quick as possibly and get yourself somewhere comfortable QUICK with an ice pack handy. Once you come to rest your ankle will hurt like a muthafucker and instantly triple in size. From that moment on you are trapped wherever you may be. Lowering your foot or attempting to put any weight on it after that point and you will (to borrow from Walter) be entering a world of pain.
i recently realized that ankles are not the only things that behave in this fashion. My significant other is thankfully in a very healthy stretch after a hand full of tough years battling disease. i had no option but to keep running. Keep kicking. Keep tackling. i could not let the team down (not that their was a sub available anyway).
Although the season is not over that game is finished at least. Much like with my ankle i am paying the price of delaying the pain and like any swollen joint, i have lost the ability to function at one hundred percent. Not only did i not get myself somewhere comfortable quickly enough but i never applied ice. Because of this the healing process is taking longer than it would have if i had taken proper care of myself.
i have gotten very good over the years at wrapping ankles. i never really figured out how to tape up emotions for extra support. i may limp around for a bit but as long as i can rest it up a bit and take it easy i imagine i can get into fighting shape in time for the next big game.
Jul 19, 2010
United By Fate
i love when those of us flying flags recognize one of our own. A random meet-up of complete strangers from the same tribe. i had a great little, mini-conversation at the grocery store with someone who could not refrain from acknowledging one of my more obscure flags. We are a small group and can not ignore one another if we happen to cross paths.
i had a similar experience on a plane the other day. It is nice to meet when we can, converse when opportune. It helps recharge our batteries.
Thank you. Hooligans for life!
i had a similar experience on a plane the other day. It is nice to meet when we can, converse when opportune. It helps recharge our batteries.
Thank you. Hooligans for life!
Do Not Push
To keep things balanced... we are watching you!
Yes, you with the backwards cap showing off your loyalty to the local baseball team. You with the cheesy t-shirt bearing the image of something "safe", referencing something the masses will recognize but will also insinuate that you "like to party". That t-shirt that you wear extra loose to help hide the gut that is slowly growing because since your college days the beer just seems to go straight to your spare tire.
Yes, you with the basketball shorts on. They are just polyester mini sweatpants you know. But i am sure they are comfortable for all that sitting on the couch you do. Or wait, perhaps you wear those new trendy checkered, plaid shorts. Yes, those stylish ones that your girl picked out for you. The ones all the ex-frat boys are wearing on the golf courses.
Yes, you with the overpriced sandals bought at your mall store of choice. Corona-chic? Again, your girl probably told you they looked good. You and your girl probably paired up pretty quick after college. You knew that without all the allure of the frat house girls stopping by may become pretty few and far between. She knew that every day after college she was going to get fatter and uglier and realized she needed to pair up while she still had some appeal.
Yes, you who walk most of your life on your wife's leash through grocery stores and shopping plazas. Then, suddenly when you are out with your "boys" you start thinking you have got a pair of balls, even though they are really still in your girl's purse. Yes, you.
We are watching you. We do not like to fight but be mindful, because we are not afraid to when need be, when the time comes. We have more experience at it than you do. We have had to, for we are always outnumbered by the mindless, brainwashed bullies such as yourself. We can take at least three times the beating you can. Do you have the stamina? We never stop.
We stand for something while you fall for everything. We are small in number but you always underestimate us. We are always there, you know who we are. We have tattoos you do not understand. We wear clothes that you think are stupid but will eventually end up wearing ten years later when the mall starts carrying imitations.
This is not a manifesto. This is not a warning. This is just a friendly reminder. The universe constantly strives to balance itself. We are not here to try and take over. We are here to ensure that balance.
We are watching you.
Yes, you with the backwards cap showing off your loyalty to the local baseball team. You with the cheesy t-shirt bearing the image of something "safe", referencing something the masses will recognize but will also insinuate that you "like to party". That t-shirt that you wear extra loose to help hide the gut that is slowly growing because since your college days the beer just seems to go straight to your spare tire.
Yes, you with the basketball shorts on. They are just polyester mini sweatpants you know. But i am sure they are comfortable for all that sitting on the couch you do. Or wait, perhaps you wear those new trendy checkered, plaid shorts. Yes, those stylish ones that your girl picked out for you. The ones all the ex-frat boys are wearing on the golf courses.
Yes, you with the overpriced sandals bought at your mall store of choice. Corona-chic? Again, your girl probably told you they looked good. You and your girl probably paired up pretty quick after college. You knew that without all the allure of the frat house girls stopping by may become pretty few and far between. She knew that every day after college she was going to get fatter and uglier and realized she needed to pair up while she still had some appeal.
Yes, you who walk most of your life on your wife's leash through grocery stores and shopping plazas. Then, suddenly when you are out with your "boys" you start thinking you have got a pair of balls, even though they are really still in your girl's purse. Yes, you.
We are watching you. We do not like to fight but be mindful, because we are not afraid to when need be, when the time comes. We have more experience at it than you do. We have had to, for we are always outnumbered by the mindless, brainwashed bullies such as yourself. We can take at least three times the beating you can. Do you have the stamina? We never stop.
We stand for something while you fall for everything. We are small in number but you always underestimate us. We are always there, you know who we are. We have tattoos you do not understand. We wear clothes that you think are stupid but will eventually end up wearing ten years later when the mall starts carrying imitations.
This is not a manifesto. This is not a warning. This is just a friendly reminder. The universe constantly strives to balance itself. We are not here to try and take over. We are here to ensure that balance.
We are watching you.
Jul 5, 2010
The Last Airbender
"The Last Airbender" was a good movie and one i felt the need to defend from the unfortunate bad reviews of many a friend now that i finally got to see it today.
As a kid there were a great many movies that i loved. Some i own copies of today and watch on a regular basis (think Star Wars, Gleaming the Cube) while other were important to me as a child but are not necessarily as important to me in adulthood. This later group were still very important to me and i still talk of them fondly.
Three such movies from my childhood were "The Last Starfighter", "Flight of the Navigator", and "The Neverending Story". You will have no problem getting punks now in their adult years to wax, super-serious, intellectual about any one of these movies. If you are not familiar with these films bring them up at your own risk for these discussions could get deep quick with childhood anecdotes. Not for the unconverted.
These types of movies are extremely important. As a child you frequently feel helpless. Like you have no say. Alien in this adult world. It is important to have art that lets kids know that they are capable of having an impact on the world. It is important to let them know that they can change things, that they have power. It is necessary that they know they can work to make things better and that they play a vital role in our society.
Movies like those i mentioned let me imagine, let me believe that i, just a kid, had potential and could have an impact. They allowed me to imagine being the pilot of a spaceship and fighting to save the universe from evil. They allowed me to imagine that i may be the only one capable of flying a found UFO that no adult could figure our. They allowed me to believe that my imagination could save an alternate universe.
But why were these movies so important for me as a child? Because the heroes in all of these films were kids. i didn't have to wait until i grew older to blow up a Death Star. i did not have to be able to grow a beard and learn to wield a lightsaber to defeat evil. i could save the day as a kid.
What else was great about these movies? The actors were real kids. They could have been a kid in one of my classes or they could have even been me. i have never seen any of those actors in any other movie since those of my childhood. There have been actresses like Dakota Fanning and Kirsten Dunst who were incredibly talented child actresses who have great careers but they were clearly gifted at their trades and could never really be mistook for a fellow, run of the mill, elementary school classmate. So when i hear adults complaining of bad acting i think how they have missed the point. These are kids that kids can relate to. That is far more important than the need for top notch acting.
As an aside, try to watch any one of the Star Wars movies with new eyes. These are indeed my favorite movies but come on... there is not a single Star Wars film that does not contain copious amounts of absolutely horrific acting. It is OK, these films are still great.
So i say congratulations to M. Night Shyamalan for renewing my faith (much needed after "The Happening" which in concept should have been my favorite but was horribly executed). He realized the need to remind kids that they matter and giving this generation of children that affirmation and empowerment. This is something that this barrage of green monster, computer animation, garbage has missed completely. Empowering rather than insulting kid's intelligence.
Ten years from now maybe some punk band (whatever that may sound like then) will do a song about "The Last Airbender". And then i will play them my digitized version of New Found Glory's cover of "The Neverending Story" theme song.
People like to say "kids these days" all so frequently but then produce things for kids that just insults their intelligence. Thank you "The Last Airbender" for helping to remind children (and me) that kids can change the world. And just in time as i am losing my faith in adults' ability to do so.
As a kid there were a great many movies that i loved. Some i own copies of today and watch on a regular basis (think Star Wars, Gleaming the Cube) while other were important to me as a child but are not necessarily as important to me in adulthood. This later group were still very important to me and i still talk of them fondly.
Three such movies from my childhood were "The Last Starfighter", "Flight of the Navigator", and "The Neverending Story". You will have no problem getting punks now in their adult years to wax, super-serious, intellectual about any one of these movies. If you are not familiar with these films bring them up at your own risk for these discussions could get deep quick with childhood anecdotes. Not for the unconverted.
These types of movies are extremely important. As a child you frequently feel helpless. Like you have no say. Alien in this adult world. It is important to have art that lets kids know that they are capable of having an impact on the world. It is important to let them know that they can change things, that they have power. It is necessary that they know they can work to make things better and that they play a vital role in our society.
Movies like those i mentioned let me imagine, let me believe that i, just a kid, had potential and could have an impact. They allowed me to imagine being the pilot of a spaceship and fighting to save the universe from evil. They allowed me to imagine that i may be the only one capable of flying a found UFO that no adult could figure our. They allowed me to believe that my imagination could save an alternate universe.
But why were these movies so important for me as a child? Because the heroes in all of these films were kids. i didn't have to wait until i grew older to blow up a Death Star. i did not have to be able to grow a beard and learn to wield a lightsaber to defeat evil. i could save the day as a kid.
What else was great about these movies? The actors were real kids. They could have been a kid in one of my classes or they could have even been me. i have never seen any of those actors in any other movie since those of my childhood. There have been actresses like Dakota Fanning and Kirsten Dunst who were incredibly talented child actresses who have great careers but they were clearly gifted at their trades and could never really be mistook for a fellow, run of the mill, elementary school classmate. So when i hear adults complaining of bad acting i think how they have missed the point. These are kids that kids can relate to. That is far more important than the need for top notch acting.
As an aside, try to watch any one of the Star Wars movies with new eyes. These are indeed my favorite movies but come on... there is not a single Star Wars film that does not contain copious amounts of absolutely horrific acting. It is OK, these films are still great.
So i say congratulations to M. Night Shyamalan for renewing my faith (much needed after "The Happening" which in concept should have been my favorite but was horribly executed). He realized the need to remind kids that they matter and giving this generation of children that affirmation and empowerment. This is something that this barrage of green monster, computer animation, garbage has missed completely. Empowering rather than insulting kid's intelligence.
Ten years from now maybe some punk band (whatever that may sound like then) will do a song about "The Last Airbender". And then i will play them my digitized version of New Found Glory's cover of "The Neverending Story" theme song.
People like to say "kids these days" all so frequently but then produce things for kids that just insults their intelligence. Thank you "The Last Airbender" for helping to remind children (and me) that kids can change the world. And just in time as i am losing my faith in adults' ability to do so.
Jun 8, 2010
Never Alone (Part 2)
... the next day (despite this entry being nearly a month later)...
So, i was going to the grocery store. i have gotten into the habit of wearing headphones while grocery shopping as it makes the experience more enjoyable and less interrupted by complete strangers interacting with you. But alas, the random public fired a pre-emptive strike.
While at a stop light on route, with windows up due to the cooler evening temperatures, i look left to a perplexing event. A seemingly homeless man on a bike (bikes are currently all the rage within the homeless community of my area... and the hipsters too... oddly) stops at the front door of the KFC. He removes the elongated top off of the stretched Hershey-kiss style cigarette butt receptacle and starts fishing through it. i imagine he was looking for some "not fully smoked" butts thrown in during some customer's hasty rush to purchase one of KFC's buckets of death.
i did not observe him for long, as i find staring rude. i returned to my light waiting at one of the notoriously long red-ed chaotic triple intersections foolishly built based on early cow paths. But i kept thinking about this gentleman. That is a creative way of problem solving a desire for tobacco, if of course you do not mind the "putting you lips on someone else's filter" germ factor.
This got me thinking about the homeless and smoking. Based on people i know who smoke, the monthly cost of being a "regular" smoker is close to (if not more than) a car payment. That is no small amount of money. Yet, i have seen homeless smoking from time to time. Where do those cigarettes come from? Novel means like this KFC collection? Stolen? Possibly purchased?
Sure, many must be purchased. It is often assumed that because you are homeless you have no money at all. This is not always true. There are a great many reasons why an individual might be homeless. To lump everyone who is homeless into a singular category is a short-cut to thinking and usually just some excuse used to feel better about the reality that there are many people who are homeless in ours, the richest country in the world.
i was reminded of an anecdote told to me by a friend of a friend while we hung out at some social gathering. This friend's friend lived for some time in NYC. While living there, during his routine daily travels he regularly passed by a seemingly homeless man who stood on the corner asking for change. Finally one day, with some time to kill, he said to the man "I am going to grab some lunch, how would you like to join me... my treat?" The man said yes.
They sat together eating and talking for some time. Finally this friend's friend asked the man why he was homeless, hoping to get his story and better understand this person whom he walked by daily. "I have a home" the man said. "An apartment a few blocks from here."
"I'm an artist" the man continued. "I dedicate my life to only art and will not compromise that by working." He went on to explain that he spent part of his day asking for money and the rest of the day in the park creating art. He accrued enough money that way to afford rent... in New York City. i think of this story often to remind myself that it is a disservice to all involved when we make assumptions.
A long tangent you say? No, in fact there is an important purpose to this dictation of thought. This is one long ass red light. In the time between my last glance at the Kentucky Fried Chicken and the events to follow i went though all those ponderings. And those were long ponderings.
Suddenly out on my peripheral i notice the homeless man is on his bike in the middle of the lane to my right now, yelling at my car. To help elaborate on the yelling part remember that i had all my windows up and note that i typically listen to music way too loud. In this case it was the Dropkick Muphys live album blasting away.
This became one of those many moments when my desire to be polite and my street smarts had to do a quick negotiation in my head. They settled on turning off the music and slightly lowering the window closest to our new friend. So i lowered the window enough to show my openness to converse but not enough that he could stick any limbs into my car. Meanwhile i kept one eye on crossing traffic in case of a needed escape route.
"Boba Fett?" i hear him now say mid soliloquy (a reference to my geeky vanity license plate). "He's a BOUNTY HUNTER! Are you saying you're a bounty hunter?"
"No" i replied "just a Star Wars fan." Come on green light.
"We're not Jedi's you know" he continued "we're not Jedi's..."
"Maybe someday though" i politely said as he seemed to not be ready to end the conversation started with my car.
"NO, NO, we CAN'T be Jedi's... no we can't... not Jedi's..." he continued as i suddenly noticed the light turning green.
"i got to go" i said "take it easy." My attempt at a courgel farewell.
"...not a Jedi" he mumbled to conclude his thought."May the force be with you!" he shouted as i slowly accelerated away.
While taking the corner i noticed the guy on the green crotch-rocket behind me laughing his ass off. What great entertainment we must have been as he waited at that painfully long light. All this random interaction and i had not even made it to the grocery store yet. Had my wife or someone else been in the car this never would have happened, but when i am just on my own this kind of thing becomes the norm. i am once again reminded that no matter how much i try i am never alone. Maybe that is not such a bad thing though.
May the force be with you too, my new friend.
So, i was going to the grocery store. i have gotten into the habit of wearing headphones while grocery shopping as it makes the experience more enjoyable and less interrupted by complete strangers interacting with you. But alas, the random public fired a pre-emptive strike.
While at a stop light on route, with windows up due to the cooler evening temperatures, i look left to a perplexing event. A seemingly homeless man on a bike (bikes are currently all the rage within the homeless community of my area... and the hipsters too... oddly) stops at the front door of the KFC. He removes the elongated top off of the stretched Hershey-kiss style cigarette butt receptacle and starts fishing through it. i imagine he was looking for some "not fully smoked" butts thrown in during some customer's hasty rush to purchase one of KFC's buckets of death.
i did not observe him for long, as i find staring rude. i returned to my light waiting at one of the notoriously long red-ed chaotic triple intersections foolishly built based on early cow paths. But i kept thinking about this gentleman. That is a creative way of problem solving a desire for tobacco, if of course you do not mind the "putting you lips on someone else's filter" germ factor.
This got me thinking about the homeless and smoking. Based on people i know who smoke, the monthly cost of being a "regular" smoker is close to (if not more than) a car payment. That is no small amount of money. Yet, i have seen homeless smoking from time to time. Where do those cigarettes come from? Novel means like this KFC collection? Stolen? Possibly purchased?
Sure, many must be purchased. It is often assumed that because you are homeless you have no money at all. This is not always true. There are a great many reasons why an individual might be homeless. To lump everyone who is homeless into a singular category is a short-cut to thinking and usually just some excuse used to feel better about the reality that there are many people who are homeless in ours, the richest country in the world.
i was reminded of an anecdote told to me by a friend of a friend while we hung out at some social gathering. This friend's friend lived for some time in NYC. While living there, during his routine daily travels he regularly passed by a seemingly homeless man who stood on the corner asking for change. Finally one day, with some time to kill, he said to the man "I am going to grab some lunch, how would you like to join me... my treat?" The man said yes.
They sat together eating and talking for some time. Finally this friend's friend asked the man why he was homeless, hoping to get his story and better understand this person whom he walked by daily. "I have a home" the man said. "An apartment a few blocks from here."
"I'm an artist" the man continued. "I dedicate my life to only art and will not compromise that by working." He went on to explain that he spent part of his day asking for money and the rest of the day in the park creating art. He accrued enough money that way to afford rent... in New York City. i think of this story often to remind myself that it is a disservice to all involved when we make assumptions.
A long tangent you say? No, in fact there is an important purpose to this dictation of thought. This is one long ass red light. In the time between my last glance at the Kentucky Fried Chicken and the events to follow i went though all those ponderings. And those were long ponderings.
Suddenly out on my peripheral i notice the homeless man is on his bike in the middle of the lane to my right now, yelling at my car. To help elaborate on the yelling part remember that i had all my windows up and note that i typically listen to music way too loud. In this case it was the Dropkick Muphys live album blasting away.
This became one of those many moments when my desire to be polite and my street smarts had to do a quick negotiation in my head. They settled on turning off the music and slightly lowering the window closest to our new friend. So i lowered the window enough to show my openness to converse but not enough that he could stick any limbs into my car. Meanwhile i kept one eye on crossing traffic in case of a needed escape route.
"Boba Fett?" i hear him now say mid soliloquy (a reference to my geeky vanity license plate). "He's a BOUNTY HUNTER! Are you saying you're a bounty hunter?"
"No" i replied "just a Star Wars fan." Come on green light.
"We're not Jedi's you know" he continued "we're not Jedi's..."
"Maybe someday though" i politely said as he seemed to not be ready to end the conversation started with my car.
"NO, NO, we CAN'T be Jedi's... no we can't... not Jedi's..." he continued as i suddenly noticed the light turning green.
"i got to go" i said "take it easy." My attempt at a courgel farewell.
"...not a Jedi" he mumbled to conclude his thought."May the force be with you!" he shouted as i slowly accelerated away.
While taking the corner i noticed the guy on the green crotch-rocket behind me laughing his ass off. What great entertainment we must have been as he waited at that painfully long light. All this random interaction and i had not even made it to the grocery store yet. Had my wife or someone else been in the car this never would have happened, but when i am just on my own this kind of thing becomes the norm. i am once again reminded that no matter how much i try i am never alone. Maybe that is not such a bad thing though.
May the force be with you too, my new friend.
May 16, 2010
Never Alone (part 1)
i tend to need more alone time than the average person. Not quite to the extent that i aim to be a hemitic monk living on some mountaintop where every few years someone dares to hike up to ask a question... but maybe on some suburban hill. i need my friends and my time with them to get me through this chaotic world we live in. i could not survive without them.
But as i said, i do like my time alone. Wandering this world at times by myself does me some good. Often, however, i am reminded that we are never alone.
i am not sure exactly what it is about me but when i am out and about unaccompanied, people seem to feel the need to start talking to me. The following are just a couple of examples from the past few days. They are, however, not at all uncommon occurrences in my daily life. i should probably just cancel my cable agreement and walk around more often... it would be better entertainment, yet alarmingly unscripted.
i had been burning the candle at both ends, as i am frequent to do, so on the way home from work the other day i decided to stop and get a cup of coffee to help keep me going for the things i needed to do that evening. Fortunately, i live in a region of the country where Dunkin' Donuts are as commonplace as streetlights. There are a minimum of five that i can stop at on my way home without having to veer off course in the slightest. So into one i pulled.
When i walked in the only people there other than employees was a father and his young daughter in line ahead of me. i am not sure exactly what happens when one becomes a father but those new to the game seem to be in such a constant state of confusion that when it comes to seemingly simple tasks just slightly out of the norm, these otherwise intelligent men become stumbling, bumbling, movie characters. Picking out which donuts would make his dozen was on par with some high stress, international gameshow's final question. i was in no rush so i just watched in entertainment.
Then someone came in behind me. Normally i am quite observant of my surroundings but being so close to work i was hoping to avoid work-related accidental contact while out and about. So it was eyes forward and down.
Suddenly, the lady (noted from her voice, not by deviating from my set stare) started chatting up the little girl in front of me. That little girl looked up, looked scared, then went over and full on koala-hugged her dad's leg... holding on for dear life. At that point i became even more dedicated to my focus and stepped it up to completely restrict any neck movement so as not to make this woman think in any way i was up for engaging conversation.
Time slows down. Really dude? You can not pick twelve donuts? Donut flavors have not changed all that much in the last three decades. No surprises here. PICK! You are leaving the rest of us quite vulnerable here by trapping us in line.
Then i hear "I don't get it!" seemingly, based on the volume, directed at me.
Shite! Keep looking ahead. Pretend you did not hear. Come on man, pick your donuts already.
Then it comes. The poke, followed by "I don't get it." Donkey balls, i can not ignore it this time. i turn to see bleached out hair (well, except for the grown out roots), skin and bones in denim shorts, and baby balanced on hip. "I don't get it? Human?" she adds pointing to the tattoos on the back of my forearm.
"Human being" i respond, "because i am just a human being" referring to the tattoo just below my elbow.
"But what's that got to do with the sheep?"
"They are separate tattoos" i politely answered. "i am running out of arm space. The other tattoo is because i am a black sheep." Her eyes squinted and i could tell there was a lot of hard thinking going on. Oh man, what are you paying in laundry quarters? Hurry up, i am missing my opportunity to escape this dialog by ordering. Come on dude!
"Black sheep?" Thoughtful pause. "Like the strange one in your family?"
Sure, i will just go with this. "Yes, i am the different one in my family."
"Me too! I picked-up some coffee before I went to therapy but I left it on the roof of my car so now, the first thing after therapy I'm back getting some coffee..." and the machine-gun paced run-on sentence trailed off as i heard those sought after words "Who's next?"
"Small. Hazelnut. Black." Quick and efficient, as all orders should be. The choice was made before i even walked through the door.
Do not feel bad for the girl. Someone else from behind the counter came over and took her order before i even finished ordering mine and she quickly started talking his ear off instead. i would like to say that this is a unique event and that is why i am writing about it but that is not true. This kind of stuff happens to me any time i am in public alone. People just randomly start conversing with me as if we went to high school together and i try to be as polite as i can.
Never alone, and never bored.
But as i said, i do like my time alone. Wandering this world at times by myself does me some good. Often, however, i am reminded that we are never alone.
i am not sure exactly what it is about me but when i am out and about unaccompanied, people seem to feel the need to start talking to me. The following are just a couple of examples from the past few days. They are, however, not at all uncommon occurrences in my daily life. i should probably just cancel my cable agreement and walk around more often... it would be better entertainment, yet alarmingly unscripted.
i had been burning the candle at both ends, as i am frequent to do, so on the way home from work the other day i decided to stop and get a cup of coffee to help keep me going for the things i needed to do that evening. Fortunately, i live in a region of the country where Dunkin' Donuts are as commonplace as streetlights. There are a minimum of five that i can stop at on my way home without having to veer off course in the slightest. So into one i pulled.
When i walked in the only people there other than employees was a father and his young daughter in line ahead of me. i am not sure exactly what happens when one becomes a father but those new to the game seem to be in such a constant state of confusion that when it comes to seemingly simple tasks just slightly out of the norm, these otherwise intelligent men become stumbling, bumbling, movie characters. Picking out which donuts would make his dozen was on par with some high stress, international gameshow's final question. i was in no rush so i just watched in entertainment.
Then someone came in behind me. Normally i am quite observant of my surroundings but being so close to work i was hoping to avoid work-related accidental contact while out and about. So it was eyes forward and down.
Suddenly, the lady (noted from her voice, not by deviating from my set stare) started chatting up the little girl in front of me. That little girl looked up, looked scared, then went over and full on koala-hugged her dad's leg... holding on for dear life. At that point i became even more dedicated to my focus and stepped it up to completely restrict any neck movement so as not to make this woman think in any way i was up for engaging conversation.
Time slows down. Really dude? You can not pick twelve donuts? Donut flavors have not changed all that much in the last three decades. No surprises here. PICK! You are leaving the rest of us quite vulnerable here by trapping us in line.
Then i hear "I don't get it!" seemingly, based on the volume, directed at me.
Shite! Keep looking ahead. Pretend you did not hear. Come on man, pick your donuts already.
Then it comes. The poke, followed by "I don't get it." Donkey balls, i can not ignore it this time. i turn to see bleached out hair (well, except for the grown out roots), skin and bones in denim shorts, and baby balanced on hip. "I don't get it? Human?" she adds pointing to the tattoos on the back of my forearm.
"Human being" i respond, "because i am just a human being" referring to the tattoo just below my elbow.
"But what's that got to do with the sheep?"
"They are separate tattoos" i politely answered. "i am running out of arm space. The other tattoo is because i am a black sheep." Her eyes squinted and i could tell there was a lot of hard thinking going on. Oh man, what are you paying in laundry quarters? Hurry up, i am missing my opportunity to escape this dialog by ordering. Come on dude!
"Black sheep?" Thoughtful pause. "Like the strange one in your family?"
Sure, i will just go with this. "Yes, i am the different one in my family."
"Me too! I picked-up some coffee before I went to therapy but I left it on the roof of my car so now, the first thing after therapy I'm back getting some coffee..." and the machine-gun paced run-on sentence trailed off as i heard those sought after words "Who's next?"
"Small. Hazelnut. Black." Quick and efficient, as all orders should be. The choice was made before i even walked through the door.
Do not feel bad for the girl. Someone else from behind the counter came over and took her order before i even finished ordering mine and she quickly started talking his ear off instead. i would like to say that this is a unique event and that is why i am writing about it but that is not true. This kind of stuff happens to me any time i am in public alone. People just randomly start conversing with me as if we went to high school together and i try to be as polite as i can.
Never alone, and never bored.
May 12, 2010
what the fuck?
i like swearing for the same reasons i like shaved heads and tattooes. It says 'you are not going to walk all over me'. It says 'you may win, but i am going to put up a fight'. Are you up for that?
It gives you the space you need in order to live, in order to breathe. We seem bombarded on a daily basis by things telling us what we are supposed to be, what we are supposed to do, how we are supposed to look. That is aggressive. That is far far harder than my appearance could ever be.
We are all together on this spinning sphere of rock and water. Why do we allow that? Why do i have to do what i do to get the room i need to be me? i push back against it to free up real estate so that the sincere may find their way into my life.
So far it has worked out pretty good... i have got a little more room here, if you want in...
It gives you the space you need in order to live, in order to breathe. We seem bombarded on a daily basis by things telling us what we are supposed to be, what we are supposed to do, how we are supposed to look. That is aggressive. That is far far harder than my appearance could ever be.
We are all together on this spinning sphere of rock and water. Why do we allow that? Why do i have to do what i do to get the room i need to be me? i push back against it to free up real estate so that the sincere may find their way into my life.
So far it has worked out pretty good... i have got a little more room here, if you want in...
Apr 28, 2010
How To Dismantle A Tea Party
...just get me to admit that i want honey in my tea...
There may be nothing i hate more in this world than lies. As the liar gets more stubborn and insistent in their repetition of lies an energy swells, grows inside of me getting stronger and more powerful. Emotion is a powerful thing, at times seeming an endless supply of power. Frequently as emotions increase in magnitude a haze can start to form within your mind causing a scattering of that power. In these moments actions can seem to take on a randomness not natural to our typical dispositions.
As i mark off the years in the non-constant of time i strive to harness that energy associated with strong emotion in those moments while practicing my ability to focus it. We do not really have control over how things make us feel, but we can work to control what we do with those feelings and with the strength that we can draw from them. i work on this on a weekly basis, some days being more successful than others. i do feel as though i am doing better more often than not, but again with the perception of feelings.
Is this more sith-like or jedi-like? Why have i gone on this long without getting to "Tea Parties"? Good questions.
The modern political back-lash movement self professing themselves as "Tea Partiers" is what i am discussing here with aims to explain deflation techniques. i have not yet mastered my emotions, so from here on out i will refer to them by their original chosen name before they decided to check it on google: "tea baggers". i find it simultaneously more fitting and more transparent in regards to my true feeling about them... in hopes of alleviating any possible reader confusion.
The "tea bagger" movement is overwhelmed by emotion, both in the driving of their actions and in the reactions to them. Logic must be used in handling both the "tea baggers'" emotions and in our own dealings with those individuals.
First off, how over the top fucked-up are their protests. Really now. Is that what you have got? First up, in this day and age hopping right to some sort of nazi reference is a short-cut to thinking. Throwing a magic marker Hitler mustache on a picture of Obama? That is as weak as that jack-off kid in your 8th grade class who was always screwing around and then called the teacher Hitler for yelling at him. Is that the maturity level that this country's politics is working at? Oh and racial slurs? Those can never be tolerated no matter how heated or emotional things have gotten. It is two-thousand-and-fucking-ten! Racism is sooo 20th century and needs to have died with the 2000 bug. Again to reiterate: RACISM IS NEVER ACCEPTABLE!
Now that i have gotten some of the pettiness out of the way lets get to the logical dismantling. Tour buses with custom decaling? Unless you are drooling on yourself this clearly advertises how this is a corporately backed muckraking exercise. They are typically organized and funded by deceptive branches of corporation's special interests. Keep this in mind and use it to help with perspective. Each of their typical statements can easily be more than countered, but disarmed (just be careful as they are typically and literally armed).
Cries of government getting too big, invading too much of our lives, and cries of socialism make me smirk as i try not to laugh aloud. Government spending too much money? Running up too much debt? Where the fuck was your bus for the 8 years of Bush Jr? Can you say "biggest debt ever" or are the tea bags in your mouth mumbling your words?
Here is my counter to these accusations: What did you have for breakfast this morning? Lunch? How did you arrive to this current destination? Interesting... it sounds like the government was with you at every step. The cost of the eggs you ate are kept artificially low with government subsidies. The meat you've eaten... also heavily subsidized to keep prices artificially low. The high fructose corn syrup in almost everything you have ingested so far today... that is right, once again heavily subsidized. Oh, and you came here in that huge bus that you so nicely labeled? Once again fueled by fossil fuels receiving gigantic government subsidies. By the way, the electricity supplied to your alarm clock which woke you up this morning, running the lights that illuminate your way and run all those other gadgets was made by what? Over 50% of our electricity in produced using coal which receives what? Yes little Johnny more government subsidies. The US government has been right there with you in your bedroom, kitchen, living room, and vehicle.
You really want smaller government and a smaller deficit? Lets drop all those subsidies. i am all for it. Watch as the price of meat, eggs, and milk increases so fast people who previously laughed at vegans and vegetarians will start giving up such products. Watch as gas and electricity prices give you whiplash. Suddenly things like solar panels for your home and hybrid or electric vehicles start paying for themselves within an incredibly short time. Alternative energy would drop the "alternative" over night becoming just how we do things. If the "tea baggers" adopt the 'cut subsidies' mantra i just might join them with my own mug of green tea, but in the mean time lets drop the hypocrisy.
i could go on and on with arguments but you probably would not get past this step as they would get consumed by emotion and resort to the continuous repetition of lies at a crescendoing volume. This, i am afraid, i still have not figured out how to counter. Yelling the truth back seems to make zero difference as they start to only hear what they want and you leave yourself unnecessarily drained.
In conclusion i would like to bring up how the idea of calling themselves the "Tea Party" is actually quite fitting of their movement. The Boston Tea Party was not carried out by some dedicated group of idealistic rebels. It was carried out by a bunch of racist, polluting, cowards. They all dressed up like Indians (native americans) so that the blame would be re-directed to the indians, which they hated. Boston harbor has been polluted ever since (as the locals joke). These misguided souls can not even gasp the realities of history, let alone the complicated world we live in.
i do not have a problem with people questioning government, in fact i think it is not only healthy but utterly necessary. Nor am i trying to defend the current administration. i openly acknowledge that this country is a collection of individuals, for better or for worse. i would be even more outraged if i thought that people were unable to question and criticize the government. My concern here is with the level of discourse. Not only do these "tea baggers" make themselves look horrible, but they makes the citizens of this country look infantile, ill-informed, and utterly un-respectable.
Be forthright and forthcoming in presenting your ideals, otherwise you risk the integrity of not only yourself but all those around you.
There may be nothing i hate more in this world than lies. As the liar gets more stubborn and insistent in their repetition of lies an energy swells, grows inside of me getting stronger and more powerful. Emotion is a powerful thing, at times seeming an endless supply of power. Frequently as emotions increase in magnitude a haze can start to form within your mind causing a scattering of that power. In these moments actions can seem to take on a randomness not natural to our typical dispositions.
As i mark off the years in the non-constant of time i strive to harness that energy associated with strong emotion in those moments while practicing my ability to focus it. We do not really have control over how things make us feel, but we can work to control what we do with those feelings and with the strength that we can draw from them. i work on this on a weekly basis, some days being more successful than others. i do feel as though i am doing better more often than not, but again with the perception of feelings.
Is this more sith-like or jedi-like? Why have i gone on this long without getting to "Tea Parties"? Good questions.
The modern political back-lash movement self professing themselves as "Tea Partiers" is what i am discussing here with aims to explain deflation techniques. i have not yet mastered my emotions, so from here on out i will refer to them by their original chosen name before they decided to check it on google: "tea baggers". i find it simultaneously more fitting and more transparent in regards to my true feeling about them... in hopes of alleviating any possible reader confusion.
The "tea bagger" movement is overwhelmed by emotion, both in the driving of their actions and in the reactions to them. Logic must be used in handling both the "tea baggers'" emotions and in our own dealings with those individuals.
First off, how over the top fucked-up are their protests. Really now. Is that what you have got? First up, in this day and age hopping right to some sort of nazi reference is a short-cut to thinking. Throwing a magic marker Hitler mustache on a picture of Obama? That is as weak as that jack-off kid in your 8th grade class who was always screwing around and then called the teacher Hitler for yelling at him. Is that the maturity level that this country's politics is working at? Oh and racial slurs? Those can never be tolerated no matter how heated or emotional things have gotten. It is two-thousand-and-fucking-ten! Racism is sooo 20th century and needs to have died with the 2000 bug. Again to reiterate: RACISM IS NEVER ACCEPTABLE!
Now that i have gotten some of the pettiness out of the way lets get to the logical dismantling. Tour buses with custom decaling? Unless you are drooling on yourself this clearly advertises how this is a corporately backed muckraking exercise. They are typically organized and funded by deceptive branches of corporation's special interests. Keep this in mind and use it to help with perspective. Each of their typical statements can easily be more than countered, but disarmed (just be careful as they are typically and literally armed).
Cries of government getting too big, invading too much of our lives, and cries of socialism make me smirk as i try not to laugh aloud. Government spending too much money? Running up too much debt? Where the fuck was your bus for the 8 years of Bush Jr? Can you say "biggest debt ever" or are the tea bags in your mouth mumbling your words?
Here is my counter to these accusations: What did you have for breakfast this morning? Lunch? How did you arrive to this current destination? Interesting... it sounds like the government was with you at every step. The cost of the eggs you ate are kept artificially low with government subsidies. The meat you've eaten... also heavily subsidized to keep prices artificially low. The high fructose corn syrup in almost everything you have ingested so far today... that is right, once again heavily subsidized. Oh, and you came here in that huge bus that you so nicely labeled? Once again fueled by fossil fuels receiving gigantic government subsidies. By the way, the electricity supplied to your alarm clock which woke you up this morning, running the lights that illuminate your way and run all those other gadgets was made by what? Over 50% of our electricity in produced using coal which receives what? Yes little Johnny more government subsidies. The US government has been right there with you in your bedroom, kitchen, living room, and vehicle.
You really want smaller government and a smaller deficit? Lets drop all those subsidies. i am all for it. Watch as the price of meat, eggs, and milk increases so fast people who previously laughed at vegans and vegetarians will start giving up such products. Watch as gas and electricity prices give you whiplash. Suddenly things like solar panels for your home and hybrid or electric vehicles start paying for themselves within an incredibly short time. Alternative energy would drop the "alternative" over night becoming just how we do things. If the "tea baggers" adopt the 'cut subsidies' mantra i just might join them with my own mug of green tea, but in the mean time lets drop the hypocrisy.
i could go on and on with arguments but you probably would not get past this step as they would get consumed by emotion and resort to the continuous repetition of lies at a crescendoing volume. This, i am afraid, i still have not figured out how to counter. Yelling the truth back seems to make zero difference as they start to only hear what they want and you leave yourself unnecessarily drained.
In conclusion i would like to bring up how the idea of calling themselves the "Tea Party" is actually quite fitting of their movement. The Boston Tea Party was not carried out by some dedicated group of idealistic rebels. It was carried out by a bunch of racist, polluting, cowards. They all dressed up like Indians (native americans) so that the blame would be re-directed to the indians, which they hated. Boston harbor has been polluted ever since (as the locals joke). These misguided souls can not even gasp the realities of history, let alone the complicated world we live in.
i do not have a problem with people questioning government, in fact i think it is not only healthy but utterly necessary. Nor am i trying to defend the current administration. i openly acknowledge that this country is a collection of individuals, for better or for worse. i would be even more outraged if i thought that people were unable to question and criticize the government. My concern here is with the level of discourse. Not only do these "tea baggers" make themselves look horrible, but they makes the citizens of this country look infantile, ill-informed, and utterly un-respectable.
Be forthright and forthcoming in presenting your ideals, otherwise you risk the integrity of not only yourself but all those around you.
Mar 31, 2010
America, Part II
i know i am usually ripping apart the country in which i live but i am allowed to. That is one of the great perks to living here. This is the country in which i live. It is where i turned a house into a home. It is where the people i care about the most also happen to reside.
Please do not faint, but this time i am writing in defense of America. Though i choose not to pledge allegiance to the flag and i do not get emotional nor cover my heart as the ridiculously long "Star Spangled Banner" is sung i am not sure i could live a lifetime in another country (or possibly i do not see another country handling a lifetime of me).
Sure, maybe this is a little fueled by the lingering buzz from the recent passing of the health care bill (something that is decades overdue) but if so, only slightly. This week i realized that on a day to day basis i truly am glad that i live here.
In realizing this, however, i also became acutely aware of why no one who is not American will ever be able to understand what it is that makes this country so great. It has taken me more than three decades to understand it myself.
America is not a country as much as it is a collection of individuals. This is simultaneously its greatest strength and the source of its greatest weakness.
It is not a country in the traditional sense with a national character or sense of self. Too much space and too many different types of people are found within its borders. A collection of individuals.
To get to this personal epiphany i found myself thinking about those who inspire me. My favorite musicians: American. My favorite artists: American. My favorite writers: American. Not to say i do not like works by those outside of my own country, because i do. That is what makes me want to travel, to see what inspired these other artists. But ultimately the art i cannot live without is done by Americans.
Skateboarding, punk rock, bebop jazz... these things could not have possibly started in any other country. Kerouac, Shepard Fairey, Minor Threat... could only happen in America. It is a unique place with a lot of room to be unique in.
This collection of individuals also stunts this country's potential. With all these varying personalities "unanimous" is seemingly impossible. EVERYTHING is polarized. The majority is frequently hard to identify, with seemingly infinite shades of grey containing subdivisions of subdivisions along any front. Most of the time we seem dysfunctional. All of the time we are unmanageable. But you cannot have one without the other.
i now realize that all of the things i hate about this country are the price i pay for all the things i love about this country. Just do not expect me to keep quiet about any of it.
Please do not faint, but this time i am writing in defense of America. Though i choose not to pledge allegiance to the flag and i do not get emotional nor cover my heart as the ridiculously long "Star Spangled Banner" is sung i am not sure i could live a lifetime in another country (or possibly i do not see another country handling a lifetime of me).
Sure, maybe this is a little fueled by the lingering buzz from the recent passing of the health care bill (something that is decades overdue) but if so, only slightly. This week i realized that on a day to day basis i truly am glad that i live here.
In realizing this, however, i also became acutely aware of why no one who is not American will ever be able to understand what it is that makes this country so great. It has taken me more than three decades to understand it myself.
America is not a country as much as it is a collection of individuals. This is simultaneously its greatest strength and the source of its greatest weakness.
It is not a country in the traditional sense with a national character or sense of self. Too much space and too many different types of people are found within its borders. A collection of individuals.
To get to this personal epiphany i found myself thinking about those who inspire me. My favorite musicians: American. My favorite artists: American. My favorite writers: American. Not to say i do not like works by those outside of my own country, because i do. That is what makes me want to travel, to see what inspired these other artists. But ultimately the art i cannot live without is done by Americans.
Skateboarding, punk rock, bebop jazz... these things could not have possibly started in any other country. Kerouac, Shepard Fairey, Minor Threat... could only happen in America. It is a unique place with a lot of room to be unique in.
This collection of individuals also stunts this country's potential. With all these varying personalities "unanimous" is seemingly impossible. EVERYTHING is polarized. The majority is frequently hard to identify, with seemingly infinite shades of grey containing subdivisions of subdivisions along any front. Most of the time we seem dysfunctional. All of the time we are unmanageable. But you cannot have one without the other.
i now realize that all of the things i hate about this country are the price i pay for all the things i love about this country. Just do not expect me to keep quiet about any of it.
Mar 22, 2010
Do i prefer a kick in the shin or a punch in the arm? Neither, fuck you!
i am sick and tired. No, i am not referring to the virus currently making it's yearly spring visit leaving me mucus-y and unable to control my body temperature. i am sick and tired of compromise.
i realize that compromise is supposed to be part of growing up and getting along but too often, especially as of late, compromise is less win-win and more lose-lose. i am done with 'better than the alternative'. i need something to go RIGHT (and i am not talking about the political right).
Fuck a season of ties and being thankful we did not lose. i will gladly take a losing record if only it meant a few victories celebrated along the way. Fuck 'good enough'. It is not GOOD ENOUGH.
i may be getting older but i have no intentions of ever getting old. When did we lose that fire inside us? i am tired of talk. i want to see some action. i am not talking about chest-thumping bar fights, i am talking about following through with what you say and living by those ideals, those beliefs. If you are not prepared to sacrifice for your ideals than stop your fucking yammering.
No more of this half-in bullshite. i am willing to pay higher taxes if it means that all Americans can have health insurance. That is the way things work. i believe in it and i understand what is necessary to carry it out. There is no such thing as something for nothing. Look up the laws of thermodynamics (they do not care if you are a Republican or Communist, they still apply despite your political preferences).
You can not say you want to fight climate change yet still drive around with your over-sized combustion engine and sit at your dinning room table with a steak. Either follow up your flapping lips with lifestyle changes or fucking admit you are a selfish bastard (or cunt, i am an equal opportunity offender).
i do not give a shite about talking points. What is your motivation and what are you doing about it?
Y'up, lots of swears here. If you do not like it i have got finger for you too.
Mar 3, 2010
Prom USA
i believe i have come up with the the ultimate way to describe mainstream America. To those of you who are uniquely able to read English yet know nothing of the country i live in, i tell you it is just like a high school prom. Each activity of the evening echos the inner workings, unfortunately, of the United States of America.
First, couples dress in clothes they cannot afford. Clothes they absolutely have to have for that special occasion but after that evening they will no longer have any use for them. Then they climb into flashy automobiles they also cannot afford. Whether driving or driven the couples flock to restaurants were they overpay for unhealthy food served in excessive portions.
Then they head to the main event. Regardless of the setting, be it banquet hall or gymnasium, the sites are the same. Usually somewhat inebriated individuals gyrate and otherwise make fools of themselves calling it dancing to a soundtrack of songs which will all be forgotten within five years, provided either by DJ or horrible cover-band. As the evening goes on the gentlemen start shedding layers yet never end up showing as much skin as the females have since the beginning of the festivities.
As time moves on an election is held, based purely on looks and popularity. Royalty is crowned and the crowd's excitement level raises, if only for a brief time. Then comes the after-party as couples bounce from one party to another enjoying a final hurrah along the way showing off their outfits and vehicles to others who could not care less on the roads to their final destination of the evening.
After a last push of celebration come the cherry on top of the evening rituals. Couples sneak away from the watchful eyes of adults and others to aimlessly grope one another in the dark, peeling off the soon to be forgotten uniforms of the evening, and finally engage in amateur sex.
The next day in the loneliness of morning, individuals realize the regrettable behavior of the previous night. A fact never publicly admitted. For once the prom-goer meets back up with peers there is only talk of how wondrous their celebratory ways are.
First, couples dress in clothes they cannot afford. Clothes they absolutely have to have for that special occasion but after that evening they will no longer have any use for them. Then they climb into flashy automobiles they also cannot afford. Whether driving or driven the couples flock to restaurants were they overpay for unhealthy food served in excessive portions.
Then they head to the main event. Regardless of the setting, be it banquet hall or gymnasium, the sites are the same. Usually somewhat inebriated individuals gyrate and otherwise make fools of themselves calling it dancing to a soundtrack of songs which will all be forgotten within five years, provided either by DJ or horrible cover-band. As the evening goes on the gentlemen start shedding layers yet never end up showing as much skin as the females have since the beginning of the festivities.
As time moves on an election is held, based purely on looks and popularity. Royalty is crowned and the crowd's excitement level raises, if only for a brief time. Then comes the after-party as couples bounce from one party to another enjoying a final hurrah along the way showing off their outfits and vehicles to others who could not care less on the roads to their final destination of the evening.
After a last push of celebration come the cherry on top of the evening rituals. Couples sneak away from the watchful eyes of adults and others to aimlessly grope one another in the dark, peeling off the soon to be forgotten uniforms of the evening, and finally engage in amateur sex.
The next day in the loneliness of morning, individuals realize the regrettable behavior of the previous night. A fact never publicly admitted. For once the prom-goer meets back up with peers there is only talk of how wondrous their celebratory ways are.
Feb 17, 2010
P.O.N.R. (not to be confused with porn)
The point of no return is a concept used across many disciplines. In aeronautics it is the point in a flight when turning around and going back would require more fuel than is left. Carrying on to the destination is the only option. In terms of climate change it is the ppm (parts per million) concentration of "greenhouse gases" that will ultimately make the planet inhospitable for the human race no matter what actions are taken.
This past week i crossed a personal point of no return. A love point of no return.
i have always thrived in solitary settings. Delusions of being the noble black knight traveling alone and saving those he comes across. Or the ronin samurai without a clan, leading a disciplined life and again, saving those he comes across. Or even the hermitic monk on the mountain with only the most worthy daring to climb up and seek my knowledge.
All alone i celebrate and feed off these delusions as i answer to no one... until this week. i had my whole itinerary planned out with daily drum practice, daily mini-half skate sessions, online video gaming, loud viewing of blue ray videos, reading to keep the mind sharp, and of course writing. This week, however, as i started living out my schedule something unexpected creeped in. This week the typical "missing" feelings i have when my love is away was replaced with "longing".
Try as i might to maintain my solo delusions i could not for very long stretches. i was constantly snapped out by emotions of feeling somehow less whole without my love. It has taken thirteen plus years but i have reached that point of no return. There is no going back. Dammit!
If only everyone could be so unlucky.
This past week i crossed a personal point of no return. A love point of no return.
i have always thrived in solitary settings. Delusions of being the noble black knight traveling alone and saving those he comes across. Or the ronin samurai without a clan, leading a disciplined life and again, saving those he comes across. Or even the hermitic monk on the mountain with only the most worthy daring to climb up and seek my knowledge.
All alone i celebrate and feed off these delusions as i answer to no one... until this week. i had my whole itinerary planned out with daily drum practice, daily mini-half skate sessions, online video gaming, loud viewing of blue ray videos, reading to keep the mind sharp, and of course writing. This week, however, as i started living out my schedule something unexpected creeped in. This week the typical "missing" feelings i have when my love is away was replaced with "longing".
Try as i might to maintain my solo delusions i could not for very long stretches. i was constantly snapped out by emotions of feeling somehow less whole without my love. It has taken thirteen plus years but i have reached that point of no return. There is no going back. Dammit!
If only everyone could be so unlucky.
Feb 11, 2010
American Idols?
Patagonia... Stonyfield Farms... these companies and many others who supposedly do so many great things for the environment cause such a bemusing reaction in me. They make me want to punch people. Ideally it seems that i would like to hit their respective founders but i get so worked up hitting almost anyone or anything would at least reduce some of the pressure, some of the rage.
Patagonia's founder, Yvon Chouinard, has not only made more environmentally friendly outdoor gear but has bought a country's worth of rain forest for preservation. Gary Hirshberg of Stonyfield Farms has made organic mainstream and started a green company rating system which has caused large companies, such as McDonalds and Apple, to take more environmentally minded actions in order to raise their incredibly low initial ratings.
So why do such friends of the environment make me want to punch people? Because it is bullshit. It is transparent.
These are not people who put the environment first. It is money first, greed first, and maybe environment second or somewhere trailing closely behind. The only way to make the ludicrous amounts of money that these bolt of men make is to put profit dead center in your sights. Money is the goal and the environment is brought along for the ride.
Are they doing good for the environment? Yes, very much so. Is the good they do proportional to or on an equal level to the greed they propagate? Not even close. Now in no way am i trying to bring them down to the strata of an Al Capone type who gives massive amounts of money to the church as some attempt to buy their way out of sin. Nor am i crying "greenwash" as i do believe that they are not just doing so to improve their public perception. i feel these types do indeed care about the environment.
The problem is intent. Look at the the laundry list of environmental problems we have. Break them down to the common denominators and you get two things as the root cause of all environmental problems: population and greed. There are too many people requiring too many resources. These businesses need this cycle to propagate in order to maintain their profit levels.
i love punk music and what it stands for. Although it may not be the highest skilled form of music, nor does it necessarily require the most intricate level of instrumental knowledge, but what punk may lack in technique it more than makes up for in integrity and unrelenting ideals. Those who put their ideals first and figure they will manage somehow to scrape enough money together to survive are the ones who inspire me. Not these business moguls who happen to have interests in the planet on which we live.
i am not saying these men need to be hung out to dry, just publicly punched. They are not role models or exemplars and should not be celebrated as such. The world needs to stop looking to the United States for leadership in fighting climate change. Money is the motivation here. That is the true transparency, the look behind the curtain, that so many choose to ignore. Choose your idols wisely. Hint: Simon will not help you in this search.
Patagonia's founder, Yvon Chouinard, has not only made more environmentally friendly outdoor gear but has bought a country's worth of rain forest for preservation. Gary Hirshberg of Stonyfield Farms has made organic mainstream and started a green company rating system which has caused large companies, such as McDonalds and Apple, to take more environmentally minded actions in order to raise their incredibly low initial ratings.
So why do such friends of the environment make me want to punch people? Because it is bullshit. It is transparent.
These are not people who put the environment first. It is money first, greed first, and maybe environment second or somewhere trailing closely behind. The only way to make the ludicrous amounts of money that these bolt of men make is to put profit dead center in your sights. Money is the goal and the environment is brought along for the ride.
Are they doing good for the environment? Yes, very much so. Is the good they do proportional to or on an equal level to the greed they propagate? Not even close. Now in no way am i trying to bring them down to the strata of an Al Capone type who gives massive amounts of money to the church as some attempt to buy their way out of sin. Nor am i crying "greenwash" as i do believe that they are not just doing so to improve their public perception. i feel these types do indeed care about the environment.
The problem is intent. Look at the the laundry list of environmental problems we have. Break them down to the common denominators and you get two things as the root cause of all environmental problems: population and greed. There are too many people requiring too many resources. These businesses need this cycle to propagate in order to maintain their profit levels.
i love punk music and what it stands for. Although it may not be the highest skilled form of music, nor does it necessarily require the most intricate level of instrumental knowledge, but what punk may lack in technique it more than makes up for in integrity and unrelenting ideals. Those who put their ideals first and figure they will manage somehow to scrape enough money together to survive are the ones who inspire me. Not these business moguls who happen to have interests in the planet on which we live.
i am not saying these men need to be hung out to dry, just publicly punched. They are not role models or exemplars and should not be celebrated as such. The world needs to stop looking to the United States for leadership in fighting climate change. Money is the motivation here. That is the true transparency, the look behind the curtain, that so many choose to ignore. Choose your idols wisely. Hint: Simon will not help you in this search.
Feb 3, 2010
Official Day Of Counter Culture
One of my favorite days of the year is coming up... Super Bowl Sunday (am i allowed to say that?). No... come on... stay with me here. It has nothing to do with "their" football (they do not play REAL football, throwball maybe, or burly-guy-foreplay even). You see, Super Bowl Sunday is the one day of the year that i am virtually guaranteed, for a few hours at least, that the douchebags of the country will be locked away somewhere safely inside and the streets are mine to roam!
i may be many things but i am not a selfish man. i would like to share my annual hours of joy with others. To that extent i am anointing this coming Sunday: February Seventh in the year Two Thousand and Ten Anno Domini, as the first Day Of Counter Culture!
All you fellow members of various counter cultures deserve your day of celebration. Just seeing each other out during these hours is enough to warrant a head nod of passing acknowledgement towards one another. For whomever is out at that aforementioned time clearly cannot be a douche. Feel that shared inner warmth that comes from knowing that you are not alone. Savor the camaraderie that makes you wish "if only every day could be like the Day Of Counter Culture".
Every holiday has its own traditions, which often evolve and develop over many years time. These traditions have to start somewhere though so it is in this vein i shall introduce the tradition of Pile Making on the Day Of Counter Culture. Wherever you go to enjoy and celebrate your own personal counter culture make a pile of some sort.
Going to a location where the sea meets the land? Stack some rocks. Going to the library or a bookstore? Pick five of your favorites and stack them up somewhere of note: on top of the card catalog, at the end of the magazine racks. Going out to get a donut? Buy a couple extra and stack them on top of the newspaper vending machine. Vegan? While enjoying this time in the grocery store, judgement free, pick out five of your favorite packaged treats and stack them in the middle of an isle in the meat department. Pile up snow, stack skateboards and ollie them, pile styling shoes... whatever moves you.
If you decide to go the tattoo route might i recommend getting tattoos up your arm or down your leg. Please avoid getting "stacked" tattoo, one over the other, for as the images add up and cover up they loose their distinction hence looking more like a fucted up Rorschach ink blot.
Chaos you say. What about those poor folk stuck working on this fine holiday who will have to un-stack our piles? Have no fear. So few people are out at this time that these employees will not have much else to do and as we all know time seems to slow down at work when we have nothing to do. You are doing them a favor by helping them pass the time.
So my fellow counter culturalists, spread the word and have a joyous and merry (happy even) Day Of Counter Culture! Feel free to share accounts of your own Pile Making celebration.
i may be many things but i am not a selfish man. i would like to share my annual hours of joy with others. To that extent i am anointing this coming Sunday: February Seventh in the year Two Thousand and Ten Anno Domini, as the first Day Of Counter Culture!
All you fellow members of various counter cultures deserve your day of celebration. Just seeing each other out during these hours is enough to warrant a head nod of passing acknowledgement towards one another. For whomever is out at that aforementioned time clearly cannot be a douche. Feel that shared inner warmth that comes from knowing that you are not alone. Savor the camaraderie that makes you wish "if only every day could be like the Day Of Counter Culture".
Every holiday has its own traditions, which often evolve and develop over many years time. These traditions have to start somewhere though so it is in this vein i shall introduce the tradition of Pile Making on the Day Of Counter Culture. Wherever you go to enjoy and celebrate your own personal counter culture make a pile of some sort.
Going to a location where the sea meets the land? Stack some rocks. Going to the library or a bookstore? Pick five of your favorites and stack them up somewhere of note: on top of the card catalog, at the end of the magazine racks. Going out to get a donut? Buy a couple extra and stack them on top of the newspaper vending machine. Vegan? While enjoying this time in the grocery store, judgement free, pick out five of your favorite packaged treats and stack them in the middle of an isle in the meat department. Pile up snow, stack skateboards and ollie them, pile styling shoes... whatever moves you.
If you decide to go the tattoo route might i recommend getting tattoos up your arm or down your leg. Please avoid getting "stacked" tattoo, one over the other, for as the images add up and cover up they loose their distinction hence looking more like a fucted up Rorschach ink blot.
Chaos you say. What about those poor folk stuck working on this fine holiday who will have to un-stack our piles? Have no fear. So few people are out at this time that these employees will not have much else to do and as we all know time seems to slow down at work when we have nothing to do. You are doing them a favor by helping them pass the time.
So my fellow counter culturalists, spread the word and have a joyous and merry (happy even) Day Of Counter Culture! Feel free to share accounts of your own Pile Making celebration.
Jan 30, 2010
2010
Y'up, it has been a while but that is a good sign. It means i have been too busy living.
Before attacking this new year in type i figured i would pay homage to the best of moments, and the best of experiences from olde 2009. In no particular order... free versed.
Sunny Day Real Estate in concert. Never have i been in a more die hard and dedicated crowd. A crescendo of a show with the band feeding off the crowd.
Christmas in Ireland. All you imagine it would be. Just what i needed. It has made me a better person... thank you again Ireland (and you know who).
Vegan donuts. Two words that should appear together more often.
Skating Burnside. As intense as you think it would be. Worth waking up early for.
Favorite band in favorite venue with favorite girl.
My love's gut fixed.
Halfpipe in garage. It does not matter how much work may stress me out... pulling into the garage and seeing that calling me can always bring a smile to my tired face.
Seeing my brother in love.
Attending my first scooter rally. Riding in a buzzing pack that size is addictive... and oh so fun.
Where The Wild Things Are. A great and beautiful movie. Dare i say even better than the book?
It really seemed like two or three years crammed into one but these will be the parts i remember the most. All right 2010... lets see what we can do.
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