It was three degrees when I left my apartment this morning, walked the torturous eight blocks to the train, listening to John Lee Hookers voice buck dances on tthrough the stomping rythm. It's a small comfort, with these artic winds blowing through me like a Hoovertown hut. Damn near impossible to ignore a cold like this, only someone as disciplined as old Dali on the hill could accomplish it. "Freight train is my only friend," Hooker croons, and hey, life is full of discomfort. I live in a pretty yuppie part of town, but, as my brother-in-law says, "these yuppies don't look down on people who are different than them, just one's that are the same." Not much better, but hell, ya can't beat the restaurants.
Anybody who wants to face down old mother nature with me, I'm open for business.
Merry Christmas
Thursday, December 23, 2004
Wednesday, December 22, 2004
Catcaller, buckdancers, and the like
It was three degrees when I left my apartment this morning, walked the torturous eight blocks to the train, all the while listening to John Lee Hookers voice buck dancing on through the stomping rhythm. It's a small comfort, with these artic winds blowing through me like a Hoovertown hut. Damn near impossible to ignore a cold like this, only someone as disciplined as old Dali on the hill could accomplish it. "Freight train is my only friend," Hooker croons, and hey, life is full of discomfort. I live in a pretty yuppie part of town, but, as my brother-in-law says, "these yuppies don't look down on people who are different than them, just one's that are the same." Not much better, but hell, ya can't beat the restaurants.
Anybody who wants to face down old mother nature with me, I'm open for business.
Merry Christmas
Anybody who wants to face down old mother nature with me, I'm open for business.
Merry Christmas
Wednesday, December 01, 2004
... and then there are those Paul McCartney Christmas songs
It's cold and white in Chicago. I'm sitting outside a window staring at a white tree centered perfectly in the large bay window of a condo on Cortland Avenue. The room behind the tree is decked in all holiday cheer, emanating a warm snug feeling that is intensified by the wind biting at my cheeks. I can imagine candy canes and sugar plums, a loving wife ready to snap a present out of my hands, scream in anticipation , and kiss me saying, "it's just what I wanted."
The wind is cold and forces my hands in my pockets. Reality is a jealous woman screaming in your ear, angry at any dream that may distract you for a moment. I continue to walk home closely watching the sidewalk in front of me, because I don't know if I can take the face of one more stranger.
Chicago is the home to over 3.5 million human beings, and, for one of them, one of the most lonely places in the world. Here you can’t see the trees through the forest. Nothing is in short supply, so nothing is really treasured. Especially when the fish in the sea words of many disenfranchised lovers is put in the storefront windows of every boutique.
The rain too is abandoned, unable to find a piece of earth to drowned itself in. Instead it gathers in puddles, and waits to either turn to ice, or be pushed to somewhere new. Standing there, watching the white tree glisten and dream, I think to myself that even cold concrete can have it's charm, it's just that those that have so little money and so much time have the patience to look. Merry Christmas
The wind is cold and forces my hands in my pockets. Reality is a jealous woman screaming in your ear, angry at any dream that may distract you for a moment. I continue to walk home closely watching the sidewalk in front of me, because I don't know if I can take the face of one more stranger.
Chicago is the home to over 3.5 million human beings, and, for one of them, one of the most lonely places in the world. Here you can’t see the trees through the forest. Nothing is in short supply, so nothing is really treasured. Especially when the fish in the sea words of many disenfranchised lovers is put in the storefront windows of every boutique.
The rain too is abandoned, unable to find a piece of earth to drowned itself in. Instead it gathers in puddles, and waits to either turn to ice, or be pushed to somewhere new. Standing there, watching the white tree glisten and dream, I think to myself that even cold concrete can have it's charm, it's just that those that have so little money and so much time have the patience to look. Merry Christmas
Friday, November 19, 2004
Man Without A Country
Do you remember the story of Benedict Arnold? When I was a wee one they had the story (either in a history book or a short story) with a picture of him standing on the deck of a ship gazing at the shore with desire. "The Man Without A Country" I think it was called. Well, I remember just looking at that picture and feeling pretty damn sorry for old Arnie. Granted he got a dish named after him for posterity, but nothing can beat some good ol' terra firma. I thought that that was the saddest thing I had ever seen, forever on a ship, no one wants you, etc.
Right now I feel a tad bit like that bloke. I just got back to Rockford, but it all feels out of sorts. Chicago is the same way. Its like my soul is wandering around the cold plains of Illinois wondering where the fuck my body got to. In Chicago the place where I feel the most at home is on the train, watching a lot of people in transit. Know one really knows how to act, where to look, or not to look, and who the hell is this guy sitting next to me. I feel about the same. My sister's place is a dirty and nasty. It's not her fault but her room mate's. Granted she has a lot of cool decorum but it's cluttered about, and no one could even try to clean. It's a cacophany. I wouldn't mind if it was cluttered like some of the apartments in Woody Allen movies. You know stacks of books, framed artwork perched precariously upon a shelf, paper's strewn everywhere, and the like. In fact, to me that's cozy. I guess the environment isn't benefitting from two dogs, two actresses and a maladjusted male sleeping on a lumpy couch. I just need some clean lines, ya know? It doesn't help that my sister's roomie is a tad premiscuous(where's spell check when you need it?). Last night me and my sister had to steer clear of the apartment while she was getting naked pictures of herself taken by this taboo photographer. I guess he's really big on photographing naked girls pretending to be dead. That and girls having orgasms (it seems like he is way to into this whole western way of thinking, eastern thought would put those two seemingly contradictary themes in the same catagory). There's all kinds of people out there, and even if ya don't like um too much you have to get by.
Well, I might be out of there this week. There's a furnished room for weekly rent four blocks from Wrigley. I know it's going to be ala Bukowski in it's appearance, but hey, I might just get some peace.
Right now I feel a tad bit like that bloke. I just got back to Rockford, but it all feels out of sorts. Chicago is the same way. Its like my soul is wandering around the cold plains of Illinois wondering where the fuck my body got to. In Chicago the place where I feel the most at home is on the train, watching a lot of people in transit. Know one really knows how to act, where to look, or not to look, and who the hell is this guy sitting next to me. I feel about the same. My sister's place is a dirty and nasty. It's not her fault but her room mate's. Granted she has a lot of cool decorum but it's cluttered about, and no one could even try to clean. It's a cacophany. I wouldn't mind if it was cluttered like some of the apartments in Woody Allen movies. You know stacks of books, framed artwork perched precariously upon a shelf, paper's strewn everywhere, and the like. In fact, to me that's cozy. I guess the environment isn't benefitting from two dogs, two actresses and a maladjusted male sleeping on a lumpy couch. I just need some clean lines, ya know? It doesn't help that my sister's roomie is a tad premiscuous(where's spell check when you need it?). Last night me and my sister had to steer clear of the apartment while she was getting naked pictures of herself taken by this taboo photographer. I guess he's really big on photographing naked girls pretending to be dead. That and girls having orgasms (it seems like he is way to into this whole western way of thinking, eastern thought would put those two seemingly contradictary themes in the same catagory). There's all kinds of people out there, and even if ya don't like um too much you have to get by.
Well, I might be out of there this week. There's a furnished room for weekly rent four blocks from Wrigley. I know it's going to be ala Bukowski in it's appearance, but hey, I might just get some peace.
Thursday, November 18, 2004
University of Chicago? Sha right!
I've been looking over the law schools here and it looks like if I was going to do it I'd have to win the lottery or take on about 100,000 dollars in debt. So, I've been looking into online law programs. I'm not looking for anything prestigious just something that will allow me to pass the bar. Meanwhile, I'm stuck here in this strange middle eastern coffee shop that happens to have free wireless, and be right next to the Damon L stop. I'm working down on LaSalle St. They call it the LaSalle Canyon. During the day it can be pretty depressing, not a spot of green to be found, but at night it all turns around and becomes pretty damn beautiful.
Hey, listen to this, I bought a book today. I know yer thinkin' "oh, probably that Jon Stewart/Daily Show book" and while I was really itchin' to buy that book, instead I bought a book on Finance. This stock stuff is pretty interesting, it's all a big horse race, yet you don't come home with as much egg on yer mug when you lose.
I looked up Steve Jobs' Apple holdings today. The man hold 5,000,002 shares, a controlling interest. I know that might not be too exciting or anything, but the interesting thing is that 5,000,001 of those shares are book shares (meaning they all exist electronically) and he has 1 that is actually a certificate stock (a stock certificate that you can hold in yer greasy little hands). My guessing is he has this little bugger framed and hangin' on the wall of his office. Just a little insight into the one business man that I truly idolize (you can't get much cooler than ownin' Apple and Pixar).
But don't think this whole thing is a'gettin' to my head, cause I'm as poor as a piss ant, sleeping on a nasty couch every night, and just waiting to bounce another check. I'm fightin' ta keep my head above the water. The other thing gettin' my goat is that I can't see my boy. I miss the hell out of that bastard (he is a bastard, technically, and I, well, I'm a bastard subjectively). He doesn't like talkin' on the phone much. I can only get a, "hi", a "bye", and if I'm really good a, "I love you." Man, it hurts, but I'm doin' it fer him. This wy if he wants he could go to Savannah School of Art, Milwaukee School of Art and Design, or good old Harvard (my favorite of the Ivys, University of Chicago a close second, I don't know if that one is considered Ivy). Well, I'll just have to make the most out of all the time I'm with him.
As for fun, there's plenty around, but I don't have the time, energy, or money to chase it around. I just go back to the hovel, watch sum tv and go to sleep around ten. Well, like I said before, I don't have internet access at all times like I use to, so my blogging will be sporadic, but it will probably also be long. Talk to ya guys soon.
Hey, listen to this, I bought a book today. I know yer thinkin' "oh, probably that Jon Stewart/Daily Show book" and while I was really itchin' to buy that book, instead I bought a book on Finance. This stock stuff is pretty interesting, it's all a big horse race, yet you don't come home with as much egg on yer mug when you lose.
I looked up Steve Jobs' Apple holdings today. The man hold 5,000,002 shares, a controlling interest. I know that might not be too exciting or anything, but the interesting thing is that 5,000,001 of those shares are book shares (meaning they all exist electronically) and he has 1 that is actually a certificate stock (a stock certificate that you can hold in yer greasy little hands). My guessing is he has this little bugger framed and hangin' on the wall of his office. Just a little insight into the one business man that I truly idolize (you can't get much cooler than ownin' Apple and Pixar).
But don't think this whole thing is a'gettin' to my head, cause I'm as poor as a piss ant, sleeping on a nasty couch every night, and just waiting to bounce another check. I'm fightin' ta keep my head above the water. The other thing gettin' my goat is that I can't see my boy. I miss the hell out of that bastard (he is a bastard, technically, and I, well, I'm a bastard subjectively). He doesn't like talkin' on the phone much. I can only get a, "hi", a "bye", and if I'm really good a, "I love you." Man, it hurts, but I'm doin' it fer him. This wy if he wants he could go to Savannah School of Art, Milwaukee School of Art and Design, or good old Harvard (my favorite of the Ivys, University of Chicago a close second, I don't know if that one is considered Ivy). Well, I'll just have to make the most out of all the time I'm with him.
As for fun, there's plenty around, but I don't have the time, energy, or money to chase it around. I just go back to the hovel, watch sum tv and go to sleep around ten. Well, like I said before, I don't have internet access at all times like I use to, so my blogging will be sporadic, but it will probably also be long. Talk to ya guys soon.
Tuesday, November 16, 2004
The Feathers Flew
Well, the whole Madison or Chicago roulette wheel has been spinning for a while now and finally the ball has settled into place (I hope). The winner is.... Chicago. Yup, I got a job working with stocks for a transfer agent down in the financial district downtown. It's nothing great but it's a good way to get a foot in the door. Right now I'm just overwhelmed by the amount of shit I'm going to have to do to move in. I also have to think about how I can pay for it. I think I'm going to tutor nights. I'm also thinking about getting my law degree here.
The plan is to play the Man's game for about five or so years, work my ass off and try to get enough money to open up a business of my own. Once you get down here, and see all the money floating around, you realize that all it is is one big club. Once your in to the club things go easily. After seeing all of these high priced execs walking around you notice that they're not so great, and they really don't do too much either. My brother in law agreed with me heartily, he did it and now money is coming to him like water. I ain't going to be greedy, I just want to get what I need and get out. Well, i'll talk to ya all later, I gotta lick the boss's boots clean. Keepin' my eyes on the prize.
The plan is to play the Man's game for about five or so years, work my ass off and try to get enough money to open up a business of my own. Once you get down here, and see all the money floating around, you realize that all it is is one big club. Once your in to the club things go easily. After seeing all of these high priced execs walking around you notice that they're not so great, and they really don't do too much either. My brother in law agreed with me heartily, he did it and now money is coming to him like water. I ain't going to be greedy, I just want to get what I need and get out. Well, i'll talk to ya all later, I gotta lick the boss's boots clean. Keepin' my eyes on the prize.
Wednesday, November 10, 2004
With God On Our Side
"And you never count the dead with God on your side."
3,000 American Civilians died on 9-11
by a man named Osama Bin Laden in acountry called Afghanistan.
14,000 Iraqi Civilians reported dead by the U.S. Military (a recent Lancet study puts the number at 100,000)
In a country called Iraq, which had nothing to do with 9-11, didn't have WMD, in a war that didn't have international support from over 2/3rds of our allies.
"A march to freedom" is what George Bush calls it. "March to the Sea" is what Sherman called it.
It looks more like a trail of tears.
Is violence the only answer to any foreign crisis?
It seems so under this administration.
So, Who Would Jesus Bomb Next?
Do you think that the reason the Republicans had such a hard time with going into the Bosnian War was the fact that we would be on the Muslim side of the conflict?
Just watchin' the news.
My name it means nothing,
my age it means less,
the country I come from,
is called the midwest,
3,000 American Civilians died on 9-11
by a man named Osama Bin Laden in acountry called Afghanistan.
14,000 Iraqi Civilians reported dead by the U.S. Military (a recent Lancet study puts the number at 100,000)
In a country called Iraq, which had nothing to do with 9-11, didn't have WMD, in a war that didn't have international support from over 2/3rds of our allies.
"A march to freedom" is what George Bush calls it. "March to the Sea" is what Sherman called it.
It looks more like a trail of tears.
Is violence the only answer to any foreign crisis?
It seems so under this administration.
So, Who Would Jesus Bomb Next?
Do you think that the reason the Republicans had such a hard time with going into the Bosnian War was the fact that we would be on the Muslim side of the conflict?
Just watchin' the news.
My name it means nothing,
my age it means less,
the country I come from,
is called the midwest,
Thursday, November 04, 2004
Something a friend sent me
Dear Friends and Family,
Before I launch off into my main point I would like to encourage you to forward this email to everyone in your address book that you deem appropriate. This is the culmination of my thoughts over the last four years and my life. Thanks for your time.
A new day has dawned. A day in which the majority of Americans have shown they favor religious fundamental beliefs over rationality; unilateral actions over diplomacy; wars for oil, money, and unreal objectives over peace, freedom, and unity; and, finally, privatized corporate control over socialized humanitarian efforts. All of these polarizations trouble me deeply. I am preaching to the choir I'm sure, but I assure you all that as an informed American who deeply believes in the minorities' arguments I will fight for change. The majority is wrong. Wrong in a way that can profoundly affect the world. We humans need to look ahead, look to the future. Short-term gain may work for the present generation, but what about future generations? What about the future of human kind? What do they get?
War is Peace, Freedom is Slavery, Ignorance is Strength.
-George Orwell
Warning #1:
When human beings attempt to rule with governments that are based on personal belief structures such as Islam or Christianity decisions tend to be irrational. To those of you whom are religious (as I am) I am not criticizing religion; rather, I am stating that the supernatural world is purely a guide in the real world. Rational thought is based on real world problems, consequences, and results. Religion and the supernatural tend to allow us to cloak our short-term misdeeds in nice little bundles and then believe that it will all be ok in the end. However, there are some things that can destroy human life (i.e., nuclear war) even if forgiven by God or Allah. In the hands of the ignorant or deranged personal belief structures, God, and Allah offer humans (used loosely here) like Hitler, Bush, and Osama Bin Laden, respectively, rationalizations to do terrible things.
In nature, there is one fundamental unity running through all the diversity we see about us. Religions are no exception to the natural law. They are given to mankind so as to accelerate the proceess of realization of fundamental unity. -Gandi
Like an unchecked cancer, hate corrodes the personality and eats away its vital unity. Hate destroys a man's sense of values and his objectivity. It causes him to describe the beautiful as ugly and the ugly as beautiful, and to confuse the true with the false and the false with the true. -Martin Luther King, Jr.
Warning #2:
Unilateral actions with other nations will lead to tension; conflict; and, in the long term a loss in human goals (i.e., survival). I have said that it is similar to the bully in the schoolyard. The bully will get what he wants that day in middle school. However, in the long term the bully is the guy who everyone mistrusts or shuns from the group. Picture America being the bully and everyone being Europe, Asia, and the Middle East. I would strongly encourage joining the group since America is after all made up of Europeans, Asians, and Middle Easterners. It scares me to think of going home alone and having no friends, being isolated in such a big world. But my feelings aside, it scares me more to think that these bullies I'm referring to have guns, nuclear weapons, and faithful followers. All of the greatest people in history were advocates of peace, humanitarian efforts, and most importantly unity not disarray.
We must learn to live together as brothers or perish together as fools. -Martin Luther King, Jr.
Warning #3:
This one is short and sweet: WAR IS WRONG. Killing and dying for oil, money, and fictitious social constructs of fear (i.e., weapons of mass destruction). Life is not a choice it is a gift. We are not soldiers. We are not fighters. We are human beings, Antiflag. Greed is like LSD, you're in a different world when you're on it, and if you are greedy and powerful then there are inevitably others in your world too, a bad combination. Now, oil, as a mechanical engineer I can assure you there are alternatives to oil, but YOU NEED TO WANT TO USE THEM. Oil does make the world go around right now, but it does not have to. People do not need to die for money and oil. There are alternatives, ask me about them if you don't believe me. The Bush Administration has chosen to believe that we need to focus on the short-term, but I challenge humankind to focus on the long-term. The here and now is nothing without the future, I'm for peace.
People who want to get rich fall into temptation and a trap and into many foolish and harmful desires that plunge mankind into ruin and destruction. For the love of money is the root of all evil. -1 Timothy 6:9-10
Warning #4:
Privatization and increased corporate power in American government will lead to greed, poverty, war, and inhumane treatment of the less fortunate. For instance, I have no health insurance. I cannot afford it. If I fall and break my leg (which I actually almost did last week when I slipped on the wet deck outside) I would have to pay a ridiculous price to get help, on the order of five figures. Why? Because private insurance companies drive prices through the roof. Why do insurance firms pay half as much as me for the same treatment? It is because the insurance corporations do more business (i.e., wholesale health care) with the hospitals. That is wrong. Humans have the right to take care of other humans. The g-word (government) doesn't even need to enter the discussion. It is a fundamental human duty to take care of each other. If anarchy were possible every one and their neighbor would do this. However, government can offer a little assistance from those neighbors who are a little less willing to offer their help. Whatever you believe, money has NOTHING to do with final argument. Humanitarian needs can be met through human efforts not through profit driven corporate decision-making.
Here's one for the deep thinkers out there:
The following socialist rhetoric is especially poignant when analyzed with respect to the current American majority. The way things are headed the liberal-conservative continuum is about to do a full 180 degree flip-flop.
Where it is a question of a complete transformation of the social organization, the masses themselves must also be in it, must themselves already have grasped what is at stake, what they are going in for with body and soul. -Frederick Engels
In reality, the State is nothing else than a machine for the oppression of one class by another, and indeed no less so in the democratic republic than in the monarchy. -Frederick Engels
In conclusion, we live in a world were too many people worry about the short-term. The prevailing thought process is what I call linear opposed to cyclical.
A linear thought process is like this:
(1) Problem
(2) Solution
(3) Action
A cyclical thought process is as follows:
(1) Problem
(2) Solution
(3) Consequence evaluation
(4) Action
(5) Results evaluation
(6) Repeat (1)-(5) as needed
The Bush Administration has a life long record of using a linear thought process. They don't reveal to us any evidence of evaluation. I believe that this method is wrong, uncompassionate, and dangerous. Religion, unilaterism, oil, greed, war, and corporate power in the hands of a linear thinker can be very destructive and if not catastrophic to humankind. I strongly urge the religious to understand that religion is based on unity and love; the unilaterist to think about who he is taking from because they may take back some day; the oil and money hungry to evaluate the possibility that there are alternatives; the war hawks that initiating killing, hate, murder, and rage will NEVER solve a problem; and, finally, the corporate idealist to let humans take care of humans. I look to the future, a future in which my little nephew can grow and his children can grow. I cannot stand and watch a majority of fools lead humankind to harm, pain, and possible extinction. I strongly encourage each of you to think about my linear thinking versus cyclical thinking argument as it pertains to your own lives and the lives of those you love. Please consider the future before you make the past.
Ten thousand fools proclaim themselves into obscurity, while one wise man forgets himself into immortality. -Martin Luther King, Jr.
In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends. -Martin Luther King, Jr.
The time of surprise attacks, of revolutions, carried through by small conscious minorities at the head of unconscious masses, is past.
Before I launch off into my main point I would like to encourage you to forward this email to everyone in your address book that you deem appropriate. This is the culmination of my thoughts over the last four years and my life. Thanks for your time.
A new day has dawned. A day in which the majority of Americans have shown they favor religious fundamental beliefs over rationality; unilateral actions over diplomacy; wars for oil, money, and unreal objectives over peace, freedom, and unity; and, finally, privatized corporate control over socialized humanitarian efforts. All of these polarizations trouble me deeply. I am preaching to the choir I'm sure, but I assure you all that as an informed American who deeply believes in the minorities' arguments I will fight for change. The majority is wrong. Wrong in a way that can profoundly affect the world. We humans need to look ahead, look to the future. Short-term gain may work for the present generation, but what about future generations? What about the future of human kind? What do they get?
War is Peace, Freedom is Slavery, Ignorance is Strength.
-George Orwell
Warning #1:
When human beings attempt to rule with governments that are based on personal belief structures such as Islam or Christianity decisions tend to be irrational. To those of you whom are religious (as I am) I am not criticizing religion; rather, I am stating that the supernatural world is purely a guide in the real world. Rational thought is based on real world problems, consequences, and results. Religion and the supernatural tend to allow us to cloak our short-term misdeeds in nice little bundles and then believe that it will all be ok in the end. However, there are some things that can destroy human life (i.e., nuclear war) even if forgiven by God or Allah. In the hands of the ignorant or deranged personal belief structures, God, and Allah offer humans (used loosely here) like Hitler, Bush, and Osama Bin Laden, respectively, rationalizations to do terrible things.
In nature, there is one fundamental unity running through all the diversity we see about us. Religions are no exception to the natural law. They are given to mankind so as to accelerate the proceess of realization of fundamental unity. -Gandi
Like an unchecked cancer, hate corrodes the personality and eats away its vital unity. Hate destroys a man's sense of values and his objectivity. It causes him to describe the beautiful as ugly and the ugly as beautiful, and to confuse the true with the false and the false with the true. -Martin Luther King, Jr.
Warning #2:
Unilateral actions with other nations will lead to tension; conflict; and, in the long term a loss in human goals (i.e., survival). I have said that it is similar to the bully in the schoolyard. The bully will get what he wants that day in middle school. However, in the long term the bully is the guy who everyone mistrusts or shuns from the group. Picture America being the bully and everyone being Europe, Asia, and the Middle East. I would strongly encourage joining the group since America is after all made up of Europeans, Asians, and Middle Easterners. It scares me to think of going home alone and having no friends, being isolated in such a big world. But my feelings aside, it scares me more to think that these bullies I'm referring to have guns, nuclear weapons, and faithful followers. All of the greatest people in history were advocates of peace, humanitarian efforts, and most importantly unity not disarray.
We must learn to live together as brothers or perish together as fools. -Martin Luther King, Jr.
Warning #3:
This one is short and sweet: WAR IS WRONG. Killing and dying for oil, money, and fictitious social constructs of fear (i.e., weapons of mass destruction). Life is not a choice it is a gift. We are not soldiers. We are not fighters. We are human beings, Antiflag. Greed is like LSD, you're in a different world when you're on it, and if you are greedy and powerful then there are inevitably others in your world too, a bad combination. Now, oil, as a mechanical engineer I can assure you there are alternatives to oil, but YOU NEED TO WANT TO USE THEM. Oil does make the world go around right now, but it does not have to. People do not need to die for money and oil. There are alternatives, ask me about them if you don't believe me. The Bush Administration has chosen to believe that we need to focus on the short-term, but I challenge humankind to focus on the long-term. The here and now is nothing without the future, I'm for peace.
People who want to get rich fall into temptation and a trap and into many foolish and harmful desires that plunge mankind into ruin and destruction. For the love of money is the root of all evil. -1 Timothy 6:9-10
Warning #4:
Privatization and increased corporate power in American government will lead to greed, poverty, war, and inhumane treatment of the less fortunate. For instance, I have no health insurance. I cannot afford it. If I fall and break my leg (which I actually almost did last week when I slipped on the wet deck outside) I would have to pay a ridiculous price to get help, on the order of five figures. Why? Because private insurance companies drive prices through the roof. Why do insurance firms pay half as much as me for the same treatment? It is because the insurance corporations do more business (i.e., wholesale health care) with the hospitals. That is wrong. Humans have the right to take care of other humans. The g-word (government) doesn't even need to enter the discussion. It is a fundamental human duty to take care of each other. If anarchy were possible every one and their neighbor would do this. However, government can offer a little assistance from those neighbors who are a little less willing to offer their help. Whatever you believe, money has NOTHING to do with final argument. Humanitarian needs can be met through human efforts not through profit driven corporate decision-making.
Here's one for the deep thinkers out there:
The following socialist rhetoric is especially poignant when analyzed with respect to the current American majority. The way things are headed the liberal-conservative continuum is about to do a full 180 degree flip-flop.
Where it is a question of a complete transformation of the social organization, the masses themselves must also be in it, must themselves already have grasped what is at stake, what they are going in for with body and soul. -Frederick Engels
In reality, the State is nothing else than a machine for the oppression of one class by another, and indeed no less so in the democratic republic than in the monarchy. -Frederick Engels
In conclusion, we live in a world were too many people worry about the short-term. The prevailing thought process is what I call linear opposed to cyclical.
A linear thought process is like this:
(1) Problem
(2) Solution
(3) Action
A cyclical thought process is as follows:
(1) Problem
(2) Solution
(3) Consequence evaluation
(4) Action
(5) Results evaluation
(6) Repeat (1)-(5) as needed
The Bush Administration has a life long record of using a linear thought process. They don't reveal to us any evidence of evaluation. I believe that this method is wrong, uncompassionate, and dangerous. Religion, unilaterism, oil, greed, war, and corporate power in the hands of a linear thinker can be very destructive and if not catastrophic to humankind. I strongly urge the religious to understand that religion is based on unity and love; the unilaterist to think about who he is taking from because they may take back some day; the oil and money hungry to evaluate the possibility that there are alternatives; the war hawks that initiating killing, hate, murder, and rage will NEVER solve a problem; and, finally, the corporate idealist to let humans take care of humans. I look to the future, a future in which my little nephew can grow and his children can grow. I cannot stand and watch a majority of fools lead humankind to harm, pain, and possible extinction. I strongly encourage each of you to think about my linear thinking versus cyclical thinking argument as it pertains to your own lives and the lives of those you love. Please consider the future before you make the past.
Ten thousand fools proclaim themselves into obscurity, while one wise man forgets himself into immortality. -Martin Luther King, Jr.
In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends. -Martin Luther King, Jr.
The time of surprise attacks, of revolutions, carried through by small conscious minorities at the head of unconscious masses, is past.
Get up, brush off the dirt, lets get back to work
Frank Zappa once said, "You can't always write a chord ugly enough to say what you want to say, so sometimes you have to rely on a giraffe filled with whipped cream."
Well, that's how I felt yesterday. But as I have said before and will undoubtably say again is, "being a Cubs fan prepares you for continual and humiliating loss. But it also reminds you that there is always next year."
The only thing that I'm really having a hard time with is this whole evangelical thing, this religious right, this fundamentalist trip. Today, Bush was told that Arafat had died (we later found out that that was not true, well, at least not yet) and asked what he thought about it. His first words were, "God bless his soul." The inference from his flagrant proclamation of his religion was that he didn't believe that he was going anywhere good. Hey, if you don't believe me fine, go listen to the tape yourself and make your own conclusions. Fundamentalists fighting fundamentalists. Hmmn, doesn't really sound like "a battle for freedom" anymore, but more like a religious war. The good thing is at least our guy believes in the right God.
How should liberals and progressives evade this wedge issue (a good example of how the Republicans have used this as a wedge issue see SpinSouth's post). My best take on this is to look to Barak Obama the new Senator from Illinois (I used to hate this state but looking at the way it votes makes me prouder and prouder). Here we have an intelligent young man with firm Christian beliefs and values who is also progressive (Harbs, where did you get the information that Obama was "fairly conservative" I have seen and spoken to the man and you are no... well your just wrong) Obama is quick to point out that while the Republicans are really happy to hop on the Christian train they are completely out of touch with what is Christianity. Christianity (I have read a little about this... for about thirty years) is based on compassion, generosity, love for your neighbors and many other good things. Unfortunately Christianity in America has taken a decidedly inquisitorial turn. Harbs, you have told me numerous times about the problems with modern day Christianity (intolerance, a nasty predisposition to judge, hypocrisy, and the like). Are not these the qualities that the Republicans seem to embrace? Are not the values that true Christianity upholds more in tune with what the Democrats hold dear. Sure there is serious power in pushing intolerance and ignorance. But it is the wrong kind of power, and never leads to anything good. Here in Illinois nothing illustrated this fact more than Alan Keyes (Obama's opponent, someone who more blatantly expressed the basic truths of this new neo con way of thinking). Obama was able to capitalize on this. He was able to take what Keyes said and to draw the conclusion that voting for Keyes was a vote against tolerance, against common sense, and against Christianity. I feel that the Democrats need to look to the black churches for a way to push this point. Martin Luther King embodied this kind of thinking.
The idea behind this all is not to push those that we think are sinners farther away from us, but to welcome them in. To say that while I do not believe that your lifestyle is right, I want to show you the truth through love and dialogue, rather than judgement and condemnation.
That is all for now. But everyone who does care for this country, and leans to the left, and wonders, "what the hell is going on with this country?" Let's all get together, not wallow in our sorrows, but look for ways to remedy this.
This is another quote from Frank Zappa, I found it while I was looking for the quote above. This is pretty anti Christian, which I don't exactly believe in but it says something I really hadn't thought about.
The essence of Christianity is told to us in the Garden of Eden history. The fruit that was forbidden was on the Tree of Knowledge. The subtext is, All the suffering you have is because you wanted to find out what was going on. You could be in the Garden of Eden if you had just kept your fucking mouth shut and hadn't asked any questions.
-- Frank Zappa, interview, Playboy, May 2, 1993
Well, that's how I felt yesterday. But as I have said before and will undoubtably say again is, "being a Cubs fan prepares you for continual and humiliating loss. But it also reminds you that there is always next year."
The only thing that I'm really having a hard time with is this whole evangelical thing, this religious right, this fundamentalist trip. Today, Bush was told that Arafat had died (we later found out that that was not true, well, at least not yet) and asked what he thought about it. His first words were, "God bless his soul." The inference from his flagrant proclamation of his religion was that he didn't believe that he was going anywhere good. Hey, if you don't believe me fine, go listen to the tape yourself and make your own conclusions. Fundamentalists fighting fundamentalists. Hmmn, doesn't really sound like "a battle for freedom" anymore, but more like a religious war. The good thing is at least our guy believes in the right God.
How should liberals and progressives evade this wedge issue (a good example of how the Republicans have used this as a wedge issue see SpinSouth's post). My best take on this is to look to Barak Obama the new Senator from Illinois (I used to hate this state but looking at the way it votes makes me prouder and prouder). Here we have an intelligent young man with firm Christian beliefs and values who is also progressive (Harbs, where did you get the information that Obama was "fairly conservative" I have seen and spoken to the man and you are no... well your just wrong) Obama is quick to point out that while the Republicans are really happy to hop on the Christian train they are completely out of touch with what is Christianity. Christianity (I have read a little about this... for about thirty years) is based on compassion, generosity, love for your neighbors and many other good things. Unfortunately Christianity in America has taken a decidedly inquisitorial turn. Harbs, you have told me numerous times about the problems with modern day Christianity (intolerance, a nasty predisposition to judge, hypocrisy, and the like). Are not these the qualities that the Republicans seem to embrace? Are not the values that true Christianity upholds more in tune with what the Democrats hold dear. Sure there is serious power in pushing intolerance and ignorance. But it is the wrong kind of power, and never leads to anything good. Here in Illinois nothing illustrated this fact more than Alan Keyes (Obama's opponent, someone who more blatantly expressed the basic truths of this new neo con way of thinking). Obama was able to capitalize on this. He was able to take what Keyes said and to draw the conclusion that voting for Keyes was a vote against tolerance, against common sense, and against Christianity. I feel that the Democrats need to look to the black churches for a way to push this point. Martin Luther King embodied this kind of thinking.
The idea behind this all is not to push those that we think are sinners farther away from us, but to welcome them in. To say that while I do not believe that your lifestyle is right, I want to show you the truth through love and dialogue, rather than judgement and condemnation.
That is all for now. But everyone who does care for this country, and leans to the left, and wonders, "what the hell is going on with this country?" Let's all get together, not wallow in our sorrows, but look for ways to remedy this.
This is another quote from Frank Zappa, I found it while I was looking for the quote above. This is pretty anti Christian, which I don't exactly believe in but it says something I really hadn't thought about.
The essence of Christianity is told to us in the Garden of Eden history. The fruit that was forbidden was on the Tree of Knowledge. The subtext is, All the suffering you have is because you wanted to find out what was going on. You could be in the Garden of Eden if you had just kept your fucking mouth shut and hadn't asked any questions.
-- Frank Zappa, interview, Playboy, May 2, 1993
Wednesday, November 03, 2004
Tuesday, November 02, 2004
November Novel Writing Month
I'm praying that we will have another president by the next time I write you. You might not hear from me much on this blog for the next month. I am trying to write a 50,000 novel in the next thirty days. Right now I am at about 4500 words (not bad for two days of work). Come check it out at alabasteralbatross.blogspot.com. Remember this is strictly quantitiy not quality. I am just trying to get a full work out. If it turns out not to be a complete piece of shit I will rewrite it. Right now it's just fun to be able to write without thinking about all of the issues that usually stall me. I'll talk to y'all soon.
November Novel Writing Month
I'm praying that we will have another president by the next time I write you. You might not hear from me much on this blog for the next month. I am trying to write a 50,000 novel in the next thirty days. Right now I am at about 4500 words (not bad for two days of work). Come check it out at alabasteralbatross.blogspot.com. Remember this is strictly quantitiy not quality. I am just trying to get a full work out. If it turns out not to be a complete piece of shit I will rewrite it. Right now it's just fun to be able to write without thinking about all of the issues that usually stall me. I'll talk to y'all soon.
Friday, October 29, 2004
Destroy to Save?
I'm really enjoying the new Dylan book. I feel that he's trying to the best of his capabilities to set down what he has experienced. Sure he may change some things to make himself look better, but have you ever tried to write your own autobiography? I have and it's full of, "Do I really want people to know this?" I've already had those questions about this with this blog. I'm trying to put myself in his position when I think about this but, why do we have to doubt him? Why do we have to know all of the small things that dominate him? I don't want to expose myself completely to the world, why should he? I think the book is autobiographical to a point, and, like you mention, he purposefully refuses to talk about certain times in his life. Do you remember that part in the book where he talks about his first wife Sara? He speaks about how much he loved her, and how he thought she was the greatest. I can understand why he doesn't want to talk about "Blood on the Tracks." "Blonde on Blonde" and some of the other earlier albums I expect him to get to in vol. 2. I doubt that he will ever get to BOTT, and if he does it will be some kind of sanitized narrative. I think that some of the greatest contributions of the book are: 1. admitting that his songs are primarily autobiographical 2. giving insight into the way he sees things, his stream of consciousness.
I know I've been slacking
Well, not really. I'm trying to work on this site to get it to look the way I want it to. As you can see I've added a few things. I hope to add a few more soon. Oh yeah, BOSOX SWEEP THE SERIES! Sorry AWG.
Monday, October 25, 2004
More about baseball teams and where my loyalties lie
I've heard it all before, but let me explain my stance. Now that the World Series is in full swing, and the Sox are up by two causing Card fans even more grief, I find that I have to defend myself publicly for the red "B" perched upon my head. They come up to me everywhere, angry Card's fans, yelling about bandwagons. This is a problem that seems to be isolated to only Cardinal's fans, although Morgan likes making a big ado about it, but he's just giving me shit. Understand: 1. I have always considered the Boston Red Sox to be my American League team. I have followed them through two seasons, and watch them whenever they make the national networks. 2. The Boston Red Sox are the sister team to the Cubs, see my prior posts on this subject. 3. As a Cub fan I naturally hate the Cardinals, just as much as I hate the White Sox. Now that I've explained my stance please stop coming up to me, I know you won't, you bastards.
Friday, October 22, 2004
If you see St. Annie...
"Don't put on any airs when your down on rue morgue avenue, they got some hungry women down there and they'll really make a mess out of you."
Yeah, Yeah, I ran into a girl that I didn't want to run into tonight. Sweet Melinda, she made me remember things that I didn't want to remember. I'm getting away from rockford I do believe I've had enough. I just found out that I bounced my rent check, in this place where the radiator just coughs. I gotta go and slap some money down on the barrelhead tomorrow. Thirty is just the same old shit, it's just that you've been through it so many times by this point that you don't know if you can take much more. While the grass is no longer green anywhere, and grey is about as good as your gonna get in the 23rd Psalm, the only thing you get to look forward to is seeing anything change and hating that just as much. God ain't talkin' because he doesn't know what to say. I guess he just figures on staying the course just like Dubya. I'll step on the anthills just to see the commotion. Burn ticks on a pin to make sure they're dead, and leave the explanations to the preachers. My grandfather died four months ago and I just started missing him. Does that make me heartless, or prove that I have a heart?
Yeah, Yeah, I ran into a girl that I didn't want to run into tonight. Sweet Melinda, she made me remember things that I didn't want to remember. I'm getting away from rockford I do believe I've had enough. I just found out that I bounced my rent check, in this place where the radiator just coughs. I gotta go and slap some money down on the barrelhead tomorrow. Thirty is just the same old shit, it's just that you've been through it so many times by this point that you don't know if you can take much more. While the grass is no longer green anywhere, and grey is about as good as your gonna get in the 23rd Psalm, the only thing you get to look forward to is seeing anything change and hating that just as much. God ain't talkin' because he doesn't know what to say. I guess he just figures on staying the course just like Dubya. I'll step on the anthills just to see the commotion. Burn ticks on a pin to make sure they're dead, and leave the explanations to the preachers. My grandfather died four months ago and I just started missing him. Does that make me heartless, or prove that I have a heart?
Thursday, October 21, 2004
BOSOX WIN!!!
Well, now that I got that off my chest I just want to spend a few moments outlining an idea I had for a short story based on a story from Frazier's "The Golden Bough" which I read a few months back. I also enrolled in this online novel writing contest. I don't know if I can write that quickly, but the pressure will definately curtail my perfectionist tendencies that I have with my writing. But I'm alos interested in the idea I have at the end of this posting. Co-op writing. Before I bengin I just want to tell everyone that I'm really enjoying this format, and the ability to interact with all of you.
"The Golden Bough" starts off with an interesting story that takes place on the edge of the lake of Nemii, in Greece. The northern edge of this lake was lined by a forest of fir and poplar. Within this forest was a small clearing, inside which existed only two things; a pear tree holding a golden fruit, and a man. This solitary figure clad in nothing but a short linen tunic and holding a short sword, paces back and forth in front of the tree. In the heat of the afternoon he stands under it's boughs, listening to the songbirds, admiring the slow, long circles of the hawk and the eagle. He watches as summer climaxes the trees burst into the autumnal fire of reds and yellows, until it dries up into the sepia tones of late fall. Carefully he gathers leaves of the tree in his cloak. When all of the leaves have fallen and the branches of his tree clatter in the silence of winter, he opens his cloak and lays a small ceremonial ceramic lamp at the base of the tree. He murmers prayers as he empties a small flask of olive oil squeezed from the fruit of the sacred olive tree planted on the Acropolis into the lamp. Lighting the lamp he turns and holds it up to the golden pear. "For Artemidis," he says slowly drawing out the words. Placing the lamp at the base of the tree he draws out his sword and drives it into the soil with two hands. A lark's slow, mournful cry echoes in the forest. Bats fly into the air with the miasmic dying of daylight only to be blown apart by the winds coming off of the lake over the naked forest and into the clearing. As the man burned the leaves he glimpsed the vague forms of nymphs, centaurs, and finally Artemidis herself through the smoke.
Winter arrives, clothing the tree in diamonds. The fleece that hangs from his shoulders gives him little comfort. His sword, red with rust, hangs limply at his side. He fights with all of his will to remain awake as much as possible. When sleep inevitably comes it is restless, filled only by dreams of lightening stretching across the sky. With winter comes the trials.
Young challengers begin arriving from the surrounding villages. The courageous confront him honorably, stating their intentions openly. With a whisper of a beard on their chins, they fall. Others, thinking themselves to be cunning, rush in during the dead of night, only to be cut down. Their blood warms his hands. Some linger at the edge of the trees, debating whether or not to approach the shivering priest. Some do, and they fall. Some try to talk to him. He responds with a dark grimace, barely visible beneath the dark locks of his matted hair. He knows that the real challengers wouldn't arrive until after the winter solstace.
They come from as far as Ithaca and wait patiently for their chance to face the man beneath the golden pear. With wonder they would watch from the woods as priest would cut down one after another of their number. With time he would fall too and another will take his place for the coming spring.
Just a short outline of a story I'd like to expand upon sometime in the future. As I said at the beginning of this post, this legend is from Frazier's venerated tome, "The Golden Bough". Maybe at some time all of us JBU'ers could get together and write a story online, each of us taking a chapter. Maybe we could do the whole Faulkner thing, with multiple views of the same event... Who knows?
Well, now that I got that off my chest I just want to spend a few moments outlining an idea I had for a short story based on a story from Frazier's "The Golden Bough" which I read a few months back. I also enrolled in this online novel writing contest. I don't know if I can write that quickly, but the pressure will definately curtail my perfectionist tendencies that I have with my writing. But I'm alos interested in the idea I have at the end of this posting. Co-op writing. Before I bengin I just want to tell everyone that I'm really enjoying this format, and the ability to interact with all of you.
"The Golden Bough" starts off with an interesting story that takes place on the edge of the lake of Nemii, in Greece. The northern edge of this lake was lined by a forest of fir and poplar. Within this forest was a small clearing, inside which existed only two things; a pear tree holding a golden fruit, and a man. This solitary figure clad in nothing but a short linen tunic and holding a short sword, paces back and forth in front of the tree. In the heat of the afternoon he stands under it's boughs, listening to the songbirds, admiring the slow, long circles of the hawk and the eagle. He watches as summer climaxes the trees burst into the autumnal fire of reds and yellows, until it dries up into the sepia tones of late fall. Carefully he gathers leaves of the tree in his cloak. When all of the leaves have fallen and the branches of his tree clatter in the silence of winter, he opens his cloak and lays a small ceremonial ceramic lamp at the base of the tree. He murmers prayers as he empties a small flask of olive oil squeezed from the fruit of the sacred olive tree planted on the Acropolis into the lamp. Lighting the lamp he turns and holds it up to the golden pear. "For Artemidis," he says slowly drawing out the words. Placing the lamp at the base of the tree he draws out his sword and drives it into the soil with two hands. A lark's slow, mournful cry echoes in the forest. Bats fly into the air with the miasmic dying of daylight only to be blown apart by the winds coming off of the lake over the naked forest and into the clearing. As the man burned the leaves he glimpsed the vague forms of nymphs, centaurs, and finally Artemidis herself through the smoke.
Winter arrives, clothing the tree in diamonds. The fleece that hangs from his shoulders gives him little comfort. His sword, red with rust, hangs limply at his side. He fights with all of his will to remain awake as much as possible. When sleep inevitably comes it is restless, filled only by dreams of lightening stretching across the sky. With winter comes the trials.
Young challengers begin arriving from the surrounding villages. The courageous confront him honorably, stating their intentions openly. With a whisper of a beard on their chins, they fall. Others, thinking themselves to be cunning, rush in during the dead of night, only to be cut down. Their blood warms his hands. Some linger at the edge of the trees, debating whether or not to approach the shivering priest. Some do, and they fall. Some try to talk to him. He responds with a dark grimace, barely visible beneath the dark locks of his matted hair. He knows that the real challengers wouldn't arrive until after the winter solstace.
They come from as far as Ithaca and wait patiently for their chance to face the man beneath the golden pear. With wonder they would watch from the woods as priest would cut down one after another of their number. With time he would fall too and another will take his place for the coming spring.
Just a short outline of a story I'd like to expand upon sometime in the future. As I said at the beginning of this post, this legend is from Frazier's venerated tome, "The Golden Bough". Maybe at some time all of us JBU'ers could get together and write a story online, each of us taking a chapter. Maybe we could do the whole Faulkner thing, with multiple views of the same event... Who knows?
Tuesday, October 19, 2004
BOSOX WIN!
They are thinking about playing Tim Wakefield tomorrow, the only knuckleballer in the major's. At the beginning of the season The New Yorker had a wonderful four page article on the art of the Knuckleball. Watch tomaorrow. The ball does some wonderful acrobatics, flutters, and breaks incredibly sharp at the plate. I know I'm only speakin' for myself because I don't think that anyone who regularly reads this blog cares much about baseball. I think they heard me all the way down the block when they won tonight. What a great game.
Look at Mr. Business man oh oh oh... it's a wild, wild, life
Well...
This Milwaukee things seems like a pretty good gig. I'd be working from my apartment (in Milwaukee), and traveling around the countryside talking to good blue collar people about their insurance premiums. Something like a wandering insurance minstrel. Milwaukee is a beautiful town, what I saw of it today. They have Summerfest every year, if you don't know what that is it's the biggest music festival in the midwest, and you gotta love the magnificent Pabst brewery right in the middle of town. My sister says that the city constantly smells like beer, but since I'm hard of smelling I wouldn't really know.
BOSOX are up by three in the 8th!
I love the Cubs, but all true Cubs fans love the Red Sox as well. We consider them our sister team. Both of us are perennial losers, with the oldest parks in the majors, with fanatical fans, and both with so called curses. We have the Bartman/goat curse, they have the curse of the Bambino. Damn, I'm going to miss baseball when it's over.
This Milwaukee things seems like a pretty good gig. I'd be working from my apartment (in Milwaukee), and traveling around the countryside talking to good blue collar people about their insurance premiums. Something like a wandering insurance minstrel. Milwaukee is a beautiful town, what I saw of it today. They have Summerfest every year, if you don't know what that is it's the biggest music festival in the midwest, and you gotta love the magnificent Pabst brewery right in the middle of town. My sister says that the city constantly smells like beer, but since I'm hard of smelling I wouldn't really know.
BOSOX are up by three in the 8th!
I love the Cubs, but all true Cubs fans love the Red Sox as well. We consider them our sister team. Both of us are perennial losers, with the oldest parks in the majors, with fanatical fans, and both with so called curses. We have the Bartman/goat curse, they have the curse of the Bambino. Damn, I'm going to miss baseball when it's over.
Sitting in a cafe in West Bend, WI
Well, here I am, waiting to interview with an insurance company in about a hour. I got here a little early, so I decided to do some exploring. This was the only coffee shop I've seen in this quaint town. I didn't expect a small place like this, out in the styx (I've always wondered is that spelled right for the context? Does that saying come from the Greek myth or is it sticks... like your out in the woods? I prefer the romantic spelling.) to have wifi access, much less free wifi access. Sometimes you just get lucky. Well, I'm thinking quite a bit about this interview, so don't expect any complex philosophic discussions. Right now I look like I never thought I would. I look like a stiff, a suit, a full fledged yup. I'm depending on my acting skills to get me through this interview. I've observed the behavior and mannerism of the robots around us, and feel that I should be able to get away with it. If I do get this job I will be living in Milwaukee. A good town by all accounts. I plan on stopping in there for a little while after this (if I feel positive about the interview) and scope out some of the neighborhoods. I'll blog what I think later.
I want to talk about a beautiful little device I got for my birthday, and generally on technology and asthetics. I just got a 4th gen 20 gig ipod for my birthday. This thing is so amazing. I have put almost my entire cd collection on it and I have only used up a quarter of it. They also make a 40 gig, and I hear that they are coming out with a 60 gig for Christmas. I thought that I liked music, but someone who can fill up one like mine and also needs another twenty or forty gigs is crazy. I strongly recommend one. They do cost 300 dollars but it really is worth it. I also got this nifty fm transmitter that fits nicely on top of it and lets me play tunes wherever there is a fm radio. I have made the switch my boys, and boy am I happy. I got this here Apple powerbook in July and now with my ipod... well, asthetically, they are both simply beautiful. Apple is showing the world how to produce technology that is not only extremely reliable (my mac has never crashed, I have had about twenty windows up at once and never see any lag) but beautiful to look at and use. Viruses don't exist for this machine. I have a firewall, but, and I've checked this on several websites, virus protection for a mac is a waste of money. The con is the lack of games and other compatibility issues with Microsoft, and of course the price. Still I will never return to the evil empire. God I love the clean lines and attention to detail on both of my Apple products, they are a pleasure to use, and working pieces of art. It's not enough that they design the machines well but the way they package their products is so interesting that it's like getting a christmas present when I open up the box. The only difference is that I'm so careful with opening them, they are so impressive that they are beautiful enough to display as well. Well enough of my spiel, I'll let U2 do the marketing from now on.
Hey I'll talk ta ya'll later, I gotta put on my yuppie face now.
I want to talk about a beautiful little device I got for my birthday, and generally on technology and asthetics. I just got a 4th gen 20 gig ipod for my birthday. This thing is so amazing. I have put almost my entire cd collection on it and I have only used up a quarter of it. They also make a 40 gig, and I hear that they are coming out with a 60 gig for Christmas. I thought that I liked music, but someone who can fill up one like mine and also needs another twenty or forty gigs is crazy. I strongly recommend one. They do cost 300 dollars but it really is worth it. I also got this nifty fm transmitter that fits nicely on top of it and lets me play tunes wherever there is a fm radio. I have made the switch my boys, and boy am I happy. I got this here Apple powerbook in July and now with my ipod... well, asthetically, they are both simply beautiful. Apple is showing the world how to produce technology that is not only extremely reliable (my mac has never crashed, I have had about twenty windows up at once and never see any lag) but beautiful to look at and use. Viruses don't exist for this machine. I have a firewall, but, and I've checked this on several websites, virus protection for a mac is a waste of money. The con is the lack of games and other compatibility issues with Microsoft, and of course the price. Still I will never return to the evil empire. God I love the clean lines and attention to detail on both of my Apple products, they are a pleasure to use, and working pieces of art. It's not enough that they design the machines well but the way they package their products is so interesting that it's like getting a christmas present when I open up the box. The only difference is that I'm so careful with opening them, they are so impressive that they are beautiful enough to display as well. Well enough of my spiel, I'll let U2 do the marketing from now on.
Hey I'll talk ta ya'll later, I gotta put on my yuppie face now.
Sunday, October 17, 2004
This sounds like it's from The Onion but it's the BBC
Satellite smashes Chinese house
A Chinese satellite has smashed into a villager's house on its return
to earth, the country's media reports.
The satellite destroyed the building in Sichuan province, but officials
say no-one was hurt.
A local newspaper printed a picture of a kettle-shaped capsule which
appeared to be about two metres long, lying amid broken bricks, beams
and roof tiles.
The satellite was part of a space probe to carry out land surveys and
other research, Xinhua news agency said.
"The satellite landed in our home. Maybe this means we'll have good
luck this year," the tenant of the wrecked apartment was quoted as
saying by the newspaper.
A Chinese satellite has smashed into a villager's house on its return
to earth, the country's media reports.
The satellite destroyed the building in Sichuan province, but officials
say no-one was hurt.
A local newspaper printed a picture of a kettle-shaped capsule which
appeared to be about two metres long, lying amid broken bricks, beams
and roof tiles.
The satellite was part of a space probe to carry out land surveys and
other research, Xinhua news agency said.
"The satellite landed in our home. Maybe this means we'll have good
luck this year," the tenant of the wrecked apartment was quoted as
saying by the newspaper.
Friday, October 15, 2004
John Stewart on Crossfire
Damn, John Stewart is really coming after the Crossfire hosts. Not what I expected, and I can tell that it's not what they expected either. Tucker is being an ass, coming after John for not giving hard questions to Kerry. It's a comedy show, come on. John comes back by saying, "my show comes after a show featuring puppets making prank calls." Wow, it is hard to watch but John is completely right about this, he's saying that Crossfire needs to be more honest and not just puppets of the parties. He's acting for direct debate over the issues, not more rhetoric. OK I gotta go, John just called Tucker a dick!
I just googled, now I see what Jon was trying to do. Check it out
http://www.washingtonpost.com/ac2/wp-dyn/A16609-2004Jul26?language=printer
I just googled, now I see what Jon was trying to do. Check it out
http://www.washingtonpost.com/ac2/wp-dyn/A16609-2004Jul26?language=printer
Hypocrisy
I just got off the phone with the police. On the corner of two of the major streets in Rockford were a row of anti abortion protesters. These people were holding up large (3ftX4ft) pictures of mutilated babies. One that caught my eye was the head of a decapitated baby between a pair of tongs. Now I believe srongly in their right to protest. However, I have my four year old child in the back of the car and to push those pictures in his and my face I regard as obscene and damaging. The police are going out there to break it up, but this has been going on in this town for over a year. Why hasn't anyone been ticketed, fined, or put in jail. Last year, many of these people were screaming bloody murder during the entire Super Bowl mishap. You tell me, what is more obscene? Lenny Bruce once did a bit about how much people freak out about nudity but say nothing about violence. Nudity is natural, love between two people is beautiful. Violence and these gory kinds of pictures can create many more problems in children than nudity. I was almost moved to violence when I saw those pictures. I wanted to bust the lip of one of those protesters and ask them all to go up and apologize to me and my boy. Help me Obi Wan Kenobi, your my only hope.
Thursday, October 14, 2004
Hey Harbs
Hey, this is a response to Harb's comment on my site
1. If life is a cosmic joke...
This is the whole point of me writing this, a general inquiry into the
discussion of the purpose of life. I wasn't saying that I believed that
life was a cosmic joke, rather I was defending the point that
everything has a purpose. My definition of good is completely relative
to my own feelings relating to the balance between chaos and order and
referring to my own intentions to stay on the the side of order... or better put to remain in accord with life, achieve a balance. The idea of good is entirely reliant upon my own insight into the karmic path.
2. How can nature...
Nature is not an entity, I agree with that. What I was talking about was
a more transcendental view of nature as a consciousness. You well know that
Buddhists don't seek to be separate from everything but connected to
everything. The point is not to be an entity, but the exact opposite.
3. According to the Buddhist...
According to the Buddhist philosophy, the effect of suffering is to
purge the soul from it's connection to this reality. It is to spur the
soul to nirvana.
4. If nature put us here....
Matt, come on, it was a metaphor. The devil really doesn't sit at the
end of my bed at night. It relates to my own struggles with these
questions.
5. Does J. Campbell...
It used to make you feel better as well. I enjoy how Campbell, looked
to unite folklore into a common theme. For your second question "What
has it gotten you?" I think my problem is that I simply haven't found
my "bliss" or my natural purpose.
1. If life is a cosmic joke...
This is the whole point of me writing this, a general inquiry into the
discussion of the purpose of life. I wasn't saying that I believed that
life was a cosmic joke, rather I was defending the point that
everything has a purpose. My definition of good is completely relative
to my own feelings relating to the balance between chaos and order and
referring to my own intentions to stay on the the side of order... or better put to remain in accord with life, achieve a balance. The idea of good is entirely reliant upon my own insight into the karmic path.
2. How can nature...
Nature is not an entity, I agree with that. What I was talking about was
a more transcendental view of nature as a consciousness. You well know that
Buddhists don't seek to be separate from everything but connected to
everything. The point is not to be an entity, but the exact opposite.
3. According to the Buddhist...
According to the Buddhist philosophy, the effect of suffering is to
purge the soul from it's connection to this reality. It is to spur the
soul to nirvana.
4. If nature put us here....
Matt, come on, it was a metaphor. The devil really doesn't sit at the
end of my bed at night. It relates to my own struggles with these
questions.
5. Does J. Campbell...
It used to make you feel better as well. I enjoy how Campbell, looked
to unite folklore into a common theme. For your second question "What
has it gotten you?" I think my problem is that I simply haven't found
my "bliss" or my natural purpose.
Monday, October 11, 2004
Let's not fight too much, but a spades a spade
Whenever I read or watch a piece of history, I always start to wonder how much I would have been different if I had grown up in this time or that. True, with medical science how it is now it's doubtful if I would've ever even made it to adulthood. I don't want to get into the whole nature vs. nurture scrap, but I think that things would've been much different if I was born one humdred years ago.
I don't know what I would do without distraction, my life principally revolves around avoiding what is the true nature of all things. If I was religious I would have that to fall back on, but I'm not, and I don't think any era could change that part of my nature. The true nature of things, the problem that keeps me awake at nights is one of purpose. Thoreau and Whitman help me out, and a good dose of Joseph Campbell can always make you feel better about the cosmic joke, but none of it really shakes lose this whole feeling that life is a sink full of dishwater. In that I mean that it's all clear and full of purpose when you fill up the sink, but as time goes on and you keep on washing you begin to think, "at what point does the water begin getting the dishes dirty." It may be a bit of a jumbled metaphor, but for me it seems to ring true.
When I was a child I thought like a child. When I was young I thought perhaps I could be some kind of Christ, when I was an adolescent I thought I could change the world, when I grew older for those labels I would've settled for some kind of discipling position, but being a man I know that I cannot be those things and I don't want to be those things. Now I just want to be a good man, even if what I do at the time doesn't seem right. I want to be a good man, even if I don't believe in the right kind of god. Nature all put us on this earth for a purpose, and no matter how much we fuck it up, nature holds us to its purpose. I just don't want to fight it so hard anymore. A principle of Buddhist philosophy is that all life is suffering. In this age we have all kinds of ways of forgetting about that, but it comes back. It comes as the devil sitting on your footboard in the middle of the night, talking so loud that you can't sleep, and you lose interest in doing so. He acts like your friend, makes you laugh at your own condition, and weep at your inability to do something about it. The further you are from distraction the worse it is. In the country there aren't any sirens, no speeding cars, or yuppies on their harleys. Out there you have to face him, and maybe that is what needs to happen.
I don't know what I would do without distraction, my life principally revolves around avoiding what is the true nature of all things. If I was religious I would have that to fall back on, but I'm not, and I don't think any era could change that part of my nature. The true nature of things, the problem that keeps me awake at nights is one of purpose. Thoreau and Whitman help me out, and a good dose of Joseph Campbell can always make you feel better about the cosmic joke, but none of it really shakes lose this whole feeling that life is a sink full of dishwater. In that I mean that it's all clear and full of purpose when you fill up the sink, but as time goes on and you keep on washing you begin to think, "at what point does the water begin getting the dishes dirty." It may be a bit of a jumbled metaphor, but for me it seems to ring true.
When I was a child I thought like a child. When I was young I thought perhaps I could be some kind of Christ, when I was an adolescent I thought I could change the world, when I grew older for those labels I would've settled for some kind of discipling position, but being a man I know that I cannot be those things and I don't want to be those things. Now I just want to be a good man, even if what I do at the time doesn't seem right. I want to be a good man, even if I don't believe in the right kind of god. Nature all put us on this earth for a purpose, and no matter how much we fuck it up, nature holds us to its purpose. I just don't want to fight it so hard anymore. A principle of Buddhist philosophy is that all life is suffering. In this age we have all kinds of ways of forgetting about that, but it comes back. It comes as the devil sitting on your footboard in the middle of the night, talking so loud that you can't sleep, and you lose interest in doing so. He acts like your friend, makes you laugh at your own condition, and weep at your inability to do something about it. The further you are from distraction the worse it is. In the country there aren't any sirens, no speeding cars, or yuppies on their harleys. Out there you have to face him, and maybe that is what needs to happen.
Sunday, October 10, 2004
God, I'm scared of what I'm turning into. I just got finished watching three episodes of "Sex in the City" and I actually enjoyed it. Too much of this big city thinkin' seeping in? I don't know. I have to put some of the blame on my sister and her friend M. They're both actresses, urban centered, and critical of every woman in the city. It doesn't help that they're male friends are all gay too. They got me started on the show. I have to say that I was a bit Shanghai'd. Since I'm looking for a job and have very little money I usually stay in with them at night. They hate it when I watch baseball, so wishing as little confrontation as possible, and trying to make myself a joy to be around I watch their shows: Reverand Oprah, HD, Sex in the City, and Elimidate. At first I remained aloof, laughing at their criticism of what someone was wearing, or the idiocy of some woman for staying in such a self destructive relationship. By the end of the week I was slingin' with the best of them. "What is she thinking wearing that denim jacket with jeans," and shit like that. But it didn't stop there, I continued to think like that after I left the city. I really need to live on my own in the city... But I don't know if that will help too much. I don't really know too many people in Chicago, and when I'm in someplace completely alien I grab on to whatever is somewhat familiar... well, not really, I go to places by myself, the coffee shop, the bar, an occasional movie, but I know that I'd primarily be hanging out with them while I'm there, at least for a few months. So I'm being feminized, I'm frightened that if it gets any worse I might start understanding my ex wife, god forbid. Help me Obi Wan Kenobi, your my only hope.
Friday, October 08, 2004
"Pistol shots rang out in a barroom night." Well, not last night in
Chicago. The city fell silent from the usual cacophony of small arms
fire for a full twenty-four hours. Not a small feat in this 3 million
plus metropolis filled with angry, frustrated people such as myself.
Yes, that's right I am in Chicago proper this morning. Beatin' the
street, hoofin' it, singing the "Back Rent Blues." Sleeping on the
couch, collecting newspapers, "I ain't got a job." Aloof, I stand in
the hallway and listen to my sister's friend talk about rent. I flop on
to the couch, pretend not to be listening and dream as hard as I can
about the best bowl of gumbo I have ever had.
It was in New Orleans, 1996, I was sent on a mission by a couple of my
partners in crime to find an apartment in New Orleans. I knew the city
pretty well, Uptown to the Quarter, Garden District to Meterie. That
doesn't mean that me and the city had any kind of congenial
relationship, quite the contrary... Let me put it this way, New Orleans,
as anyone who has been there, is a lady, sophisticated with just enough
dirt under the nails to make her even more mysterious. I was more like
a doting suitor that just wouldn't take a hint, not until the
authorities had gotten involved and warned me not to come anywhere
near her for at least thirty days (another story but I'll leave that
for another time). Well, I was head over heels in love with her and she
treated me like most women do when a man just won't take a hint, with
contempt. I floated through her streets, my feet never touching the
ground.
My friends were sending me upwards of six hundred dollars a week, a
large sum for someone who has absolutely no overhead, and to my credit,
I didn't spend any of it frivolously, at least not at the beginning.
That's yet another story and I'm trying to get to the gumbo. I had
saved all of the money and was trying to find a good apartment Uptown,
hopefully next to my favorite bar, Snake and Jake's Christmas Bar, on
Oak Street. Unfortunately, my timing was wrong. Three weeks to Mardi
Gras, a 22 year old kid without a job (this is a recurring theme), with
a lot of money coming from questionable means (note to self look up the
statute of limitations for, you know). In New Orleans neighborhoods are
very patchy, in some places the street right behind all of the
magnificent homes on St. Charles St. can compare to many of the worst
places in most big cities. True, in relation to New Orleans you could
do a whole lot worse. Anyway, I was looking for a slightly posh spot up
near Tulane University, and no one wanted to rent to me due to the
reasons stated above.
While looking for an apartment I was also looking for a straight job. I
had a lead on a doorman position at the Hyatt Regency in the Quarter.
While not particularly thrilled by the prospect of opening the door for
a bunch of drunken yuppies, I wasn't really in the place to decline
anything. I talked to the manager, who seemed very interested in giving
me a chance at the gig. I took a shower, put on my bests, and headed
downtown to the interview. I was crossing Basin Street when a group of
old graying black men with broad smiles stationed in a small concrete
gazebo on the boulevard called me over. They slapped me on the back and
threw a jug of Carlo Rossi wine into my hands. I had a little time to
spare and some fresh gum in my pocket, I figured, "what the hell? How
often does a chance like this come around?" The rest of the afternoon
is pretty much a blur, all that I remember is singin' "Basin Street
Blues" with these guys and pestering tourists with wine all down the
front of my Sunday's bests and a purple grin just as wide as the other
fellas.
Basin Street is the street,
Where all the white and the black boys meet,
Oh down in New Orleans,
Land of dreams
That night one of the guys took me back to his ramshackle apartment,
built on the bulldozed Storyville. The steps into the building were
clean and freshly swept though slanted hazardously. We ran up the
slanted steps into the building, and through a door at the end on a
dimly lit hall. All of my anxiety drowned in jug wine I entered without
any fear. He sat me down at the kitchen table to yell at his wife that
he had a guest.
I know y'all want to know what happened, or maybe ya don't but you'll
just have to wait until tomorrow. I got to look for some jobs right
now.
Chicago. The city fell silent from the usual cacophony of small arms
fire for a full twenty-four hours. Not a small feat in this 3 million
plus metropolis filled with angry, frustrated people such as myself.
Yes, that's right I am in Chicago proper this morning. Beatin' the
street, hoofin' it, singing the "Back Rent Blues." Sleeping on the
couch, collecting newspapers, "I ain't got a job." Aloof, I stand in
the hallway and listen to my sister's friend talk about rent. I flop on
to the couch, pretend not to be listening and dream as hard as I can
about the best bowl of gumbo I have ever had.
It was in New Orleans, 1996, I was sent on a mission by a couple of my
partners in crime to find an apartment in New Orleans. I knew the city
pretty well, Uptown to the Quarter, Garden District to Meterie. That
doesn't mean that me and the city had any kind of congenial
relationship, quite the contrary... Let me put it this way, New Orleans,
as anyone who has been there, is a lady, sophisticated with just enough
dirt under the nails to make her even more mysterious. I was more like
a doting suitor that just wouldn't take a hint, not until the
authorities had gotten involved and warned me not to come anywhere
near her for at least thirty days (another story but I'll leave that
for another time). Well, I was head over heels in love with her and she
treated me like most women do when a man just won't take a hint, with
contempt. I floated through her streets, my feet never touching the
ground.
My friends were sending me upwards of six hundred dollars a week, a
large sum for someone who has absolutely no overhead, and to my credit,
I didn't spend any of it frivolously, at least not at the beginning.
That's yet another story and I'm trying to get to the gumbo. I had
saved all of the money and was trying to find a good apartment Uptown,
hopefully next to my favorite bar, Snake and Jake's Christmas Bar, on
Oak Street. Unfortunately, my timing was wrong. Three weeks to Mardi
Gras, a 22 year old kid without a job (this is a recurring theme), with
a lot of money coming from questionable means (note to self look up the
statute of limitations for, you know). In New Orleans neighborhoods are
very patchy, in some places the street right behind all of the
magnificent homes on St. Charles St. can compare to many of the worst
places in most big cities. True, in relation to New Orleans you could
do a whole lot worse. Anyway, I was looking for a slightly posh spot up
near Tulane University, and no one wanted to rent to me due to the
reasons stated above.
While looking for an apartment I was also looking for a straight job. I
had a lead on a doorman position at the Hyatt Regency in the Quarter.
While not particularly thrilled by the prospect of opening the door for
a bunch of drunken yuppies, I wasn't really in the place to decline
anything. I talked to the manager, who seemed very interested in giving
me a chance at the gig. I took a shower, put on my bests, and headed
downtown to the interview. I was crossing Basin Street when a group of
old graying black men with broad smiles stationed in a small concrete
gazebo on the boulevard called me over. They slapped me on the back and
threw a jug of Carlo Rossi wine into my hands. I had a little time to
spare and some fresh gum in my pocket, I figured, "what the hell? How
often does a chance like this come around?" The rest of the afternoon
is pretty much a blur, all that I remember is singin' "Basin Street
Blues" with these guys and pestering tourists with wine all down the
front of my Sunday's bests and a purple grin just as wide as the other
fellas.
Basin Street is the street,
Where all the white and the black boys meet,
Oh down in New Orleans,
Land of dreams
That night one of the guys took me back to his ramshackle apartment,
built on the bulldozed Storyville. The steps into the building were
clean and freshly swept though slanted hazardously. We ran up the
slanted steps into the building, and through a door at the end on a
dimly lit hall. All of my anxiety drowned in jug wine I entered without
any fear. He sat me down at the kitchen table to yell at his wife that
he had a guest.
I know y'all want to know what happened, or maybe ya don't but you'll
just have to wait until tomorrow. I got to look for some jobs right
now.
Tuesday, October 05, 2004
Another Morning
Mornings when you unemployed are a lot like being young your dreamy, motivated, and full of hope. I wake up, make lists of things to do, shower, shave, and dress well enough to remind myself that I'm a professional. I go out and get a collection of the local papers; the Register Star, Chicago Tribune, and Chicago Sun Times. Feeling confident that my $1.50 may hold the promise of employment I leave the gas station and return home.
I gave up smoking about three years ago but I have been smoking for the past month. Not just one here or there, but a pack, pack and a half a day. Being unemployed is some weird conundrum, it's boring anxiety, a lazy unease, it's sitting on the tarmack not knowing whether your going to take off or return to the gate.
By noon most of my work is done. I try to find things to do but I'm sick of everything. I don't want to talk to my friends and leaving the house just seems like a waste of time. I watch CNN and relate to Mt. St. Helens, a smoking heap of rock and ash. I question my qualifications, every answer I give in interviews, revise my resume for the twentieth time, visit craigslist and monster. Nothing, the hope from the morning fades and is quickly followed by a depression that is in full swing by four o'clock. That's when I start drinking. Everyday is the same, people come and people go, I sit here and rot.
I gave up smoking about three years ago but I have been smoking for the past month. Not just one here or there, but a pack, pack and a half a day. Being unemployed is some weird conundrum, it's boring anxiety, a lazy unease, it's sitting on the tarmack not knowing whether your going to take off or return to the gate.
By noon most of my work is done. I try to find things to do but I'm sick of everything. I don't want to talk to my friends and leaving the house just seems like a waste of time. I watch CNN and relate to Mt. St. Helens, a smoking heap of rock and ash. I question my qualifications, every answer I give in interviews, revise my resume for the twentieth time, visit craigslist and monster. Nothing, the hope from the morning fades and is quickly followed by a depression that is in full swing by four o'clock. That's when I start drinking. Everyday is the same, people come and people go, I sit here and rot.
Monday, October 04, 2004
Unemployed, undersexed, drunk and cynical in Rockford, IL
This keyboard doesn't quite have the spine cracking snap of my good old remington, instead it's this soft tapping. It's not quite honest, it whispers and reminds me of my grandmothers bridge club. Maybe this is what this small rhythm will eventually lead me to, more gossip than a sewing circle. I'm not above it, nor will I avoid it... So it goes with most things in life. When your unemployed the days just fade away. I wake up trying to be industrious but all ambition fades by noon.
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