My wife is a wonderful human being, let me just start with that. Generous, kind, brilliant beyond comprehension (though humble and a bit mystified why I say such things about her, but it's all true). She saw it fit to grant me an early Christmas present and gave me a VIP pass to Thomas Dolby's show, The Invisible Lighthouse, in Portland, November 19, 2013 at the Alberta Rose Theater (all appropriate who's, what's, where's, and when's touched on: check; moving on...)
Now, I love Thomas Dolby. Not in any sort of sexual manner, I don't swing that way (and I don't believe he does either, not that it's any of my business); just in an overall "awe of a given artist" kind of way. As some of you know (and as I've pointed out before in these ridiculous, inconsistent ramblings of mine), I'm a bit of a music nut. Ok, scratch that, I'm an obsessive music whore, who will listen to anything that catches my fancy. However, in this particular case, I can say I'm an honest fan. I started listening to Thomas' work back in 1985, when a friend of mine exposed me to The Golden Age of Wireless, and specifically the single She Blinded Me with Science. I fell madly in love with the music, with it's quirky ideas and new wavy keyboards, and electronic wiz-bangery. And apparently, I have a passing resemblance to Mr. Dolby, or at least HAD in my youth. After being married less than a year, I visited my parents in Spokane and made my way to see my friend who started me on TD in the first place. When I got out of the car, the first thing out of his mouth was "Oh my god, it's Thomas Dolby!" To which my new bride said "I TOLD you!" (She has Casandra Syndrome. We don't talk about it much...)
Anyway, I've managed to garner most of his work over a number of years, and never thought I'd see him live. To be honest, I didn't think he was touring, thought he'd given it up to pursue other interests... like changing the face of mobile phone technology, or interactive music, or whatever thought popped into his head. We'll, he was doing all that... and still touring.
I saw him for the first time in July of 2010. A friend of my wife's (an old high school pal) asked if I was interested (knowing the answer), and we got to see him in a very intimate setting called the Bing Lounge in downtown Portland. Here it is (in it's basic entirety):
Part one: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NY8WBjfTRls
Part two: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aqxSLE1faGs
Part three: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CbNTQFO9gYI (I still get goosebumps hearing that opening bass riff)
Part four: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ul4NbBaiBIo
Part five: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zj54WDbLj8M
Now, three years later, is the opportunity to see him again in another intimate setting. This time out, he's touring, not an album, or a MMORP game, but a film that he's put together about a lighthouse near his home on the coast of England. But the story is far more complex than just that. It's about history, nostalgia, memory (real or imagined?), influence, conservation, and conspiracy. Very complex, heady stuff!
Here's the trailer for the show: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BFxbkZqznB0
What makes it all the more brilliant is that it's a unique multimedia presentation, with live music, lighting effects, and Foley sound (performed by Blake Leyh)! And that's just the film portion of the show!
Part two was a Q&A, first with Thomas and Blake, then with some local artists. In our case here in Portlandia, we got Storm Large, who I'd heard OF but never HEARD (until this concert - WOW, she's got pipes!), and Rachel Brice, an internationally known belly dancer (who is actually a part of the film but didn't know it!). Thomas said that as he was touring this show, he had interviews at every venue, sort of as a pilot for a possible TV show, a kind of James Lipton kind of format, as opposed to Letterman or Leno. Basically a known musician interviewing other musicians (known or lesser known) about the craft in a respectful, knowledgeable manner. I think it'll be a hit if he goes forward with it.
Part three was more music... and dance... and fun!
And then the main event was over, and the VIP's got him to themselves for their own Q&A and signing session. I wish I had been a little more forward, but I could see that the man was very tired, so didn't want to hold him up too much (he had a bunch of other people to interact with yet).
But I came away from this "concert" thrilled that I had been there, but a little sad that here was this great man, a musician and "explorer" and now film maker, presenting his work and giving of himself, and the fans, while respectful... we're all still vampires. Yes, he's getting paid, make no mistake about that, I KNOW he's getting paid. But this is what he does. This is his job or career or calling or whatever you want to call it. But still, have you ever gone to your job, looked around, and gone "What the hell am I doing here?" I do it all the time. And I can't imagine it can be any easier for someone like Thomas (who's "known" but not "mainstream"), or Adam Levine (who's "beyond mainstream") or Lady Gaga, who work ridiculous hours, for ridiculous pay, and have to put up with ridiculous fans. This is not the first time I've noticed this. I experienced the same thing when I saw Howard Jones, back in 2007, when I got his autograph after a three hour show. He was polite, but obviously very tired.
So, yes, I was entertained, nay enlightened to some degree ("Thomas, what do you mean, you don't PRACTICE?!?!") and I loved every moment I was there. But I hope that whatever Thomas does gives him some level of joy to keep him going. We, the fans are vampires, and he, the artist, spills his life for us. I hope we don't suck him dry. He's a treasure worth savoring.
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
Another one of life's DUR moments...
Amazon. A place of commerce and trade. One can usually find comedy there, but typically it's found in the movies or music section (anyone heard of Weird Al Yankovic?) It's not usually found in the produce isle.
And yet...
I (or rather my wife) was toodling around on Facebook, checking out various posts of interests. She and I are hooked into George Takei's page, and of course, George (or his staffers) have posted some interesting things from Amazon (usually reviews of odd items, typically Star Trek related, like Spock and Kirk salt and pepper shakers). In this particular instance, it was for a gallon of milk.
What's so funny about a gallon of milk, you may ask. Nothing much, really. 128 fluid ounces of bovine lactic acid. Here's the link, in case you want to see for yourself:
Tuscan Whole Milk
Now, I hope that you actually clicked on that link to check out the advertisement in question, so that you know for yourself that I am not kidding in any way, form, fashion, or idea: they advertised it at $45 a gallon.
I realize that free market enterprise drives this great (grate?) and glorious nation of ours, but really?!?! Forty-five bucks for a gallon of a beverage that you can walk to the store and get for less than five?
Needless to say, my eyes crossed.
But wait! There's more!
Amazon has this wonderful feature called "Customers Who View This Item Also Viewed." Again, it's a marketing tool, ensuring and cementing that glorious herd mentality of "Keeping Up With the Joneses."
HOWEVER... in this case, I found my jaw dropped, my eyes bugged, and my guffaws flowing freely at what other items were typically viewed with this overpriced gallon of milk.
Here's a brief list:
Uranium Ore - for $35.95 plus shipping and handling (here's hoping that UPS has lead-lined gloves), Images SI Inc. will send you a radioactive ore sample!
How To Avoid Huge Ships - For only $325.42, you too can own this lovely paperback by well-known author and humanitarian John W. Trimmer, as he explains in minute detail of how these terrifying beasts of commerce can be avoided. In only 112 pages.
AutoExec Wheelmate Steering Wheel Attachable Work Surface Tray - Oh! Must hurry! Only THREE left in stock! (Is it just me that sees the irony that you're going to get pulled over and given a ticket for texting while driving from a guy with an open laptop sitting next to him?)
And while ogling that uranium ore, there are these goodies to waste your ducats on:
A unicorn cookie cutter - Why is this on the URANIUM ORE page? It would have made some sense on the milk page (milk and cookies - yum!), but why coupled with the radioactive isotope sample?!?!
Canned Unicorn Meat - Does it taste like Skittles? (no, apparently it tastes like polyvinyl stuffing).
And yet...
I (or rather my wife) was toodling around on Facebook, checking out various posts of interests. She and I are hooked into George Takei's page, and of course, George (or his staffers) have posted some interesting things from Amazon (usually reviews of odd items, typically Star Trek related, like Spock and Kirk salt and pepper shakers). In this particular instance, it was for a gallon of milk.
What's so funny about a gallon of milk, you may ask. Nothing much, really. 128 fluid ounces of bovine lactic acid. Here's the link, in case you want to see for yourself:
Tuscan Whole Milk
Now, I hope that you actually clicked on that link to check out the advertisement in question, so that you know for yourself that I am not kidding in any way, form, fashion, or idea: they advertised it at $45 a gallon.
I realize that free market enterprise drives this great (grate?) and glorious nation of ours, but really?!?! Forty-five bucks for a gallon of a beverage that you can walk to the store and get for less than five?
Needless to say, my eyes crossed.
But wait! There's more!
Amazon has this wonderful feature called "Customers Who View This Item Also Viewed." Again, it's a marketing tool, ensuring and cementing that glorious herd mentality of "Keeping Up With the Joneses."
HOWEVER... in this case, I found my jaw dropped, my eyes bugged, and my guffaws flowing freely at what other items were typically viewed with this overpriced gallon of milk.
Here's a brief list:
Uranium Ore - for $35.95 plus shipping and handling (here's hoping that UPS has lead-lined gloves), Images SI Inc. will send you a radioactive ore sample!
How To Avoid Huge Ships - For only $325.42, you too can own this lovely paperback by well-known author and humanitarian John W. Trimmer, as he explains in minute detail of how these terrifying beasts of commerce can be avoided. In only 112 pages.
AutoExec Wheelmate Steering Wheel Attachable Work Surface Tray - Oh! Must hurry! Only THREE left in stock! (Is it just me that sees the irony that you're going to get pulled over and given a ticket for texting while driving from a guy with an open laptop sitting next to him?)
And while ogling that uranium ore, there are these goodies to waste your ducats on:
A unicorn cookie cutter - Why is this on the URANIUM ORE page? It would have made some sense on the milk page (milk and cookies - yum!), but why coupled with the radioactive isotope sample?!?!
Canned Unicorn Meat - Does it taste like Skittles? (no, apparently it tastes like polyvinyl stuffing).
Harcos Labratory Nuclear Energy Powder Uranium Yellowcake Flavor - YELLOWCAKE?!?!?! WTF?!?!?! Oh! More clever marketing! It's like PopRocks... with a real doozy of a wake-me-up.
And I could follow these particular rabbit trails for-bloody-ever. Zombie jerky, bacon themed adhesive bandages, Weener Kleener soap, emergency underpants dispenser...
Will wonders never cease!
Thursday, October 10, 2013
Eyesight to the Blind - A Short Story
(Note: this story is built off of something my friend Dave wrote some time ago. I'd post the original work, but it's gone all ninja on me. If'n'when it comes out of stealth mode, I'll see what I can do about reposting it here.)
Let me tell you a tale of morality.
Once upon a time, in a kingdom so far lost in time that its name wasn't even recorded, an old king died, putting a new, young king on the throne. Now while the old king was sage and wise, as is befitting both a king and an old man, the young king was less so, relying more on his own cleverness than on the wisdom of the ages, though he was not without some mental skill. And while he had a council of advisers, he never forgot who ultimately made decisions for the kingdom.
It was in this vein that the young king was beset with a Prophet, who claimed that the young king's kingdom was going to be destroyed. "The Gods themselves have told me," said the prophet. "When the red headed man carries a jar on his left shoulder, but does not stop at the well, the kingdom will be destroyed."
The young king nodded sagely at the Prophet's words, then turned to his nearest guard. "Take this man down into my dungeons and dismantle him, starting with his tongue." The Prophet was startled as two large burly guards grabbed him to carry him off.
"But the Gods have spoken!" he cried.
"I'm sure they have," called back the king in a bored tone. "But they didn't speak to me."
And the Prophet was carried away to a horrible, torturous death.
Word of this got around, as word of such things will, but for some reason, more and more prophets came out of the woodwork to give the king warnings disguised as riddles.
"A cow with two udders shall be a harbinger of your downfall!"
"When two eagles are killed with a single arrow, your days will number five and twenty!"
"When the moon is black but bright as the sun, so too shall your light go out!"
Each prophecy was as ridiculous in its detail as it was in its absurdity. And each prophet was killed horribly for the affront.
Now, let me say this about the king: he was not a bad king. Despite his ruthless, heartless destruction of soothsayers and prognosticators, he was actually a decent leader, making sure his people were clothed, housed, fed, protected. He made sure taxes weren't too heavy (or too light) and that the Church didn't meddle in affairs of the State. Thus the long string of dead prophets.
After a particularly gruesome execution, involving the flaying and dismemberment of seven individuals who claimed to have had a vision of the king's demise at the hands of a seven foot tall living tree, one of his advisers asked for an audience.
"Why do you do this? Why do you kill them? And in such horrible fashion? I mean no impudence, I just seek understanding."
The king nodded grimly. "Each of these so-called prophets claims that the Gods have spoken directly to each of them. That the Gods have given them a specific message concerning the demise of myself and/or of this kingdom I control. My view is this: if the message is that important, that my life or my kingdom's welfare is in that grave a danger that the Gods actually take notice, then the Gods need to speak with ME directly. Don't use emissaries that will misconstrue the message, or twist it to their own means for their own reasons. The Gods need to talk to me directly if they expect me to take action."
"But why kill them? The prophets?" queried the adviser.
"My reasoning is this: If I allow one of these so-called prophets to leave my presence after delivering an apocalyptic message, and I don't follow through in a manner that THEY would see me follow through in, then they can create rabble in my kingdom, sowing seeds of disharmony, doubt, fear, and disobedience. By not only killing them, but killing them in manners most unkind, yes I sow some seeds of fear in my own kingdom. But I also sow seeds of confidence, because I ALWAYS kill a prophet that dares come to me. Without exception. It shows my people that my word is bond, that I do what I say. And in this matter, what I say is this: if the Gods want to tell me something, let them tell me themselves."
And the adviser left the king to his thoughts, pondering what had been said, and the new wisdom of it.
It was some time later, and the king sat in his throne room, contemplating the records of the incoming harvests, when a messenger ran breathless into the throne room. "Sire! The people are massing at the front gate!"
Somewhat startled, the king got up and went to the window facing the gate, curious as to what it could be about. "Messenger, are the people armed?" he asked as he strode to the portal. "Do they mean to overthrow me? Storm my castle?"
"I don't think so sire. Each one of them was muttering. But what was odd is that they all seemed to be muttering the same thing."
Curious, and a little unnerved, the king asked "What was it they were muttering?"
"They were muttering 'I must speak with the king,' sire."
The king reached the window, opened it, and stepped out onto the balcony that faced the great gate. Sure enough, there was a crowd of people, already gathered with more pouring in behind, standing before the gate. The guardsmen were braced for an attack that wasn't coming. The crowd merely stood, passive, outside the protective bars. Each one, to a man, was muttering something unintelligible from where the king stood.
"My people," the king's voice rang out, strong and true and royal, booming about the courtyard, "why have you come to me in this manner? What do you wish of your king?"
As one, the crowd moved their heads to look upon the king, and with one clear, unified voice, said "DO NOT MOCK THE GODS. WE WILL SPEAK WITH YOU HOWEVER WE WILL. WE GIVE YOU THIS ONE LAST WARNING: KILL NO MORE PROPHETS."
Taken aback, the king looked out upon his people. The masses were silent now, staring at their monarch. Grief and horror and pain and resolve fought for control of his features, with no clear cut winner as the king spoke. "If you truly are the Gods, you have refused to speak to me directly. You continue to use intermediaries. I have no desire to entertain messages third hand. If you truly are the Gods, then you know my position on this. And as such, you have destroyed my people."
He turned to the messenger: "Fetch me the sergeant-at-arms immediately." The messenger scampered off, obedient. He walked slowly back to his throne, where his royal scepter and his royal crown sat on pedestals, awaiting his need for them. He looked at them with grief and self-pity and with iron resolve. The sergeant-at-arms was soon before him.
"My leige?"
"Brandon," said the king, for that was the sergeant-at-arms name, "gather up a squad of 100 stouthearted me, loyal to me, with the stomach to do ugly business. With those men, you are to slaughter every single one of the crowd that stands at my gates, to the man. Every man, woman, and child. No exceptions."
"Sire?" Brandon whispered, horrified.
"I am still king, Brandon," he said quietly, with steadfastness and pain. "They are my subjects and I will do with them as I please. If the Gods refuse to meet with me directly, I will make it my business to silence their stand-ins."
"Please don't take this wrong," said Brandon, as meekly as he could, "But didn't the Gods demonstrate a direct communication with you? Speaking through a crowd in such a manner as this?"
The king sighed. "The Gods demonstrated that they exist. Of this, I cannot deny, nor have I ever argued against their existence. My whole controversy is they they refuse to speak directly TO me. Am I not capable of accepting a message from the Gods in the same manner as these so-called prophets? Is it too much to ask? Apparently so, and now, in order to maintain my integrity, I am forced to annihilate my people. It is not something I relish, Brandon. It is not something I want, and I could rescind the order, but at the sacrifice of my word. And that I will not do. So, when this horrid event is over, I will be resigning my throne. I will give my lands to the neighbors to the West, and surrender myself to their constabulary. I am not fit to wear this crown. If the king to the West is as just as I believe him to be, I should be executed and buried in a paupers grave. That's certainly what I'll be suggesting to him.
And so it came about that the kingdom was decimated from within, because the king refused to communicate indirectly with the Gods, but stayed a man of his word.
So what's the moral of this little tale? Is it "Sacrifice your integrity for the sake of theology?" Or is it "Obedience is more crucial than principle?"
Who knows...
Let me tell you a tale of morality.
Once upon a time, in a kingdom so far lost in time that its name wasn't even recorded, an old king died, putting a new, young king on the throne. Now while the old king was sage and wise, as is befitting both a king and an old man, the young king was less so, relying more on his own cleverness than on the wisdom of the ages, though he was not without some mental skill. And while he had a council of advisers, he never forgot who ultimately made decisions for the kingdom.
It was in this vein that the young king was beset with a Prophet, who claimed that the young king's kingdom was going to be destroyed. "The Gods themselves have told me," said the prophet. "When the red headed man carries a jar on his left shoulder, but does not stop at the well, the kingdom will be destroyed."
The young king nodded sagely at the Prophet's words, then turned to his nearest guard. "Take this man down into my dungeons and dismantle him, starting with his tongue." The Prophet was startled as two large burly guards grabbed him to carry him off.
"But the Gods have spoken!" he cried.
"I'm sure they have," called back the king in a bored tone. "But they didn't speak to me."
And the Prophet was carried away to a horrible, torturous death.
Word of this got around, as word of such things will, but for some reason, more and more prophets came out of the woodwork to give the king warnings disguised as riddles.
"A cow with two udders shall be a harbinger of your downfall!"
"When two eagles are killed with a single arrow, your days will number five and twenty!"
"When the moon is black but bright as the sun, so too shall your light go out!"
Each prophecy was as ridiculous in its detail as it was in its absurdity. And each prophet was killed horribly for the affront.
Now, let me say this about the king: he was not a bad king. Despite his ruthless, heartless destruction of soothsayers and prognosticators, he was actually a decent leader, making sure his people were clothed, housed, fed, protected. He made sure taxes weren't too heavy (or too light) and that the Church didn't meddle in affairs of the State. Thus the long string of dead prophets.
After a particularly gruesome execution, involving the flaying and dismemberment of seven individuals who claimed to have had a vision of the king's demise at the hands of a seven foot tall living tree, one of his advisers asked for an audience.
"Why do you do this? Why do you kill them? And in such horrible fashion? I mean no impudence, I just seek understanding."
The king nodded grimly. "Each of these so-called prophets claims that the Gods have spoken directly to each of them. That the Gods have given them a specific message concerning the demise of myself and/or of this kingdom I control. My view is this: if the message is that important, that my life or my kingdom's welfare is in that grave a danger that the Gods actually take notice, then the Gods need to speak with ME directly. Don't use emissaries that will misconstrue the message, or twist it to their own means for their own reasons. The Gods need to talk to me directly if they expect me to take action."
"But why kill them? The prophets?" queried the adviser.
"My reasoning is this: If I allow one of these so-called prophets to leave my presence after delivering an apocalyptic message, and I don't follow through in a manner that THEY would see me follow through in, then they can create rabble in my kingdom, sowing seeds of disharmony, doubt, fear, and disobedience. By not only killing them, but killing them in manners most unkind, yes I sow some seeds of fear in my own kingdom. But I also sow seeds of confidence, because I ALWAYS kill a prophet that dares come to me. Without exception. It shows my people that my word is bond, that I do what I say. And in this matter, what I say is this: if the Gods want to tell me something, let them tell me themselves."
And the adviser left the king to his thoughts, pondering what had been said, and the new wisdom of it.
It was some time later, and the king sat in his throne room, contemplating the records of the incoming harvests, when a messenger ran breathless into the throne room. "Sire! The people are massing at the front gate!"
Somewhat startled, the king got up and went to the window facing the gate, curious as to what it could be about. "Messenger, are the people armed?" he asked as he strode to the portal. "Do they mean to overthrow me? Storm my castle?"
"I don't think so sire. Each one of them was muttering. But what was odd is that they all seemed to be muttering the same thing."
Curious, and a little unnerved, the king asked "What was it they were muttering?"
"They were muttering 'I must speak with the king,' sire."
The king reached the window, opened it, and stepped out onto the balcony that faced the great gate. Sure enough, there was a crowd of people, already gathered with more pouring in behind, standing before the gate. The guardsmen were braced for an attack that wasn't coming. The crowd merely stood, passive, outside the protective bars. Each one, to a man, was muttering something unintelligible from where the king stood.
"My people," the king's voice rang out, strong and true and royal, booming about the courtyard, "why have you come to me in this manner? What do you wish of your king?"
As one, the crowd moved their heads to look upon the king, and with one clear, unified voice, said "DO NOT MOCK THE GODS. WE WILL SPEAK WITH YOU HOWEVER WE WILL. WE GIVE YOU THIS ONE LAST WARNING: KILL NO MORE PROPHETS."
Taken aback, the king looked out upon his people. The masses were silent now, staring at their monarch. Grief and horror and pain and resolve fought for control of his features, with no clear cut winner as the king spoke. "If you truly are the Gods, you have refused to speak to me directly. You continue to use intermediaries. I have no desire to entertain messages third hand. If you truly are the Gods, then you know my position on this. And as such, you have destroyed my people."
He turned to the messenger: "Fetch me the sergeant-at-arms immediately." The messenger scampered off, obedient. He walked slowly back to his throne, where his royal scepter and his royal crown sat on pedestals, awaiting his need for them. He looked at them with grief and self-pity and with iron resolve. The sergeant-at-arms was soon before him.
"My leige?"
"Brandon," said the king, for that was the sergeant-at-arms name, "gather up a squad of 100 stouthearted me, loyal to me, with the stomach to do ugly business. With those men, you are to slaughter every single one of the crowd that stands at my gates, to the man. Every man, woman, and child. No exceptions."
"Sire?" Brandon whispered, horrified.
"I am still king, Brandon," he said quietly, with steadfastness and pain. "They are my subjects and I will do with them as I please. If the Gods refuse to meet with me directly, I will make it my business to silence their stand-ins."
"Please don't take this wrong," said Brandon, as meekly as he could, "But didn't the Gods demonstrate a direct communication with you? Speaking through a crowd in such a manner as this?"
The king sighed. "The Gods demonstrated that they exist. Of this, I cannot deny, nor have I ever argued against their existence. My whole controversy is they they refuse to speak directly TO me. Am I not capable of accepting a message from the Gods in the same manner as these so-called prophets? Is it too much to ask? Apparently so, and now, in order to maintain my integrity, I am forced to annihilate my people. It is not something I relish, Brandon. It is not something I want, and I could rescind the order, but at the sacrifice of my word. And that I will not do. So, when this horrid event is over, I will be resigning my throne. I will give my lands to the neighbors to the West, and surrender myself to their constabulary. I am not fit to wear this crown. If the king to the West is as just as I believe him to be, I should be executed and buried in a paupers grave. That's certainly what I'll be suggesting to him.
And so it came about that the kingdom was decimated from within, because the king refused to communicate indirectly with the Gods, but stayed a man of his word.
So what's the moral of this little tale? Is it "Sacrifice your integrity for the sake of theology?" Or is it "Obedience is more crucial than principle?"
Who knows...
Rage Fantasies
Have you ever thought of killing another human being? Seriously thought about it, as a serious option? If you have, then please step away from the keyboard, pack you things, and hie ye hence to ye olde mental hospital, because you have a problem.
What I wish to discuss, nay ramble on about, is rage fantasies. Those daydreams (or waking anxiety-driven nightmares) in which you star as the avenging hero of the work staff, giving what-for to that individual that makes your life and the lives of others, miserable, like it's their job.
THIS is what's been hitting me in the brain pan for the last couple days. Not just at work either. And that scares me. I'll be driving along and WHAM! This fully-fledged rage fantasy of telling one of my co-workers / managers just what I (and everyone else in the store) think of her:
"GET YOUR FAT ASS OUT OF THE OFFICE AND DO SOME DAMN WORK!!!!"
This individual "manages" the store from her perch in the office, because she "has to do scheduling" or "has to do inventory." Last time I checked, a fast food restaurant's main goal was to serve food to customers, preferably fast and hot, with a smile on the employee's face. And to make sure that happens, don't you think the manager in charge of the floor should see it happening? Not that I begrudge her the time to do those other things. She should be allowed to do that, because they are a necessary component to a well run store (if she actually did those things competently...). HOWEVER, if what you're scheduled to do is run the floor, then DAMNIT RUN THE FLOOR!!! Don't go off to the office to take care of other things, because we, the workers and other managers, KNOW what you're really doing: hiding from the work and texting your friends and husband away from the prying eyes of everyone else. Of course, you'll suspend anyone else in a minute for "playing" with their phone (no, I've never been suspended for such activities, I actually have a legitimate excuse for keeping my phone on me, but several other people have been threatened with punishment).
The whole workplace is so screwed-up and bass-ackwards. Too many managers, first and foremost, and I'm one of them so I can actually speak to the issue. Our general manager, while a nice gal, has very few leadership skills, and little to no backbone. She's fired three people in the five years I worked for her: one for stealing, one for drug use, and one for overstepping their bounds ("Give me a promotion or I'll quit!" "Buh bye!") But she doesn't deal with disciplinary action very well. I shouldn't talk, I'm non-confrontational my own self, but how do you get to the position of GM without being able to discipline effectively?
Maybe it's just my own messed up perspective. More likely that. It doesn't stop the anger or frustration. And borderline anxiety attack level rages that come on. It's not that I freak out and start screaming at people, but my heart rate goes up, my eyes get big, and I can FEEL the chemical reactions in my body as if I WERE yelling at these people.
Goose frah bah indeed....
What I wish to discuss, nay ramble on about, is rage fantasies. Those daydreams (or waking anxiety-driven nightmares) in which you star as the avenging hero of the work staff, giving what-for to that individual that makes your life and the lives of others, miserable, like it's their job.
THIS is what's been hitting me in the brain pan for the last couple days. Not just at work either. And that scares me. I'll be driving along and WHAM! This fully-fledged rage fantasy of telling one of my co-workers / managers just what I (and everyone else in the store) think of her:
"GET YOUR FAT ASS OUT OF THE OFFICE AND DO SOME DAMN WORK!!!!"
This individual "manages" the store from her perch in the office, because she "has to do scheduling" or "has to do inventory." Last time I checked, a fast food restaurant's main goal was to serve food to customers, preferably fast and hot, with a smile on the employee's face. And to make sure that happens, don't you think the manager in charge of the floor should see it happening? Not that I begrudge her the time to do those other things. She should be allowed to do that, because they are a necessary component to a well run store (if she actually did those things competently...). HOWEVER, if what you're scheduled to do is run the floor, then DAMNIT RUN THE FLOOR!!! Don't go off to the office to take care of other things, because we, the workers and other managers, KNOW what you're really doing: hiding from the work and texting your friends and husband away from the prying eyes of everyone else. Of course, you'll suspend anyone else in a minute for "playing" with their phone (no, I've never been suspended for such activities, I actually have a legitimate excuse for keeping my phone on me, but several other people have been threatened with punishment).
The whole workplace is so screwed-up and bass-ackwards. Too many managers, first and foremost, and I'm one of them so I can actually speak to the issue. Our general manager, while a nice gal, has very few leadership skills, and little to no backbone. She's fired three people in the five years I worked for her: one for stealing, one for drug use, and one for overstepping their bounds ("Give me a promotion or I'll quit!" "Buh bye!") But she doesn't deal with disciplinary action very well. I shouldn't talk, I'm non-confrontational my own self, but how do you get to the position of GM without being able to discipline effectively?
Maybe it's just my own messed up perspective. More likely that. It doesn't stop the anger or frustration. And borderline anxiety attack level rages that come on. It's not that I freak out and start screaming at people, but my heart rate goes up, my eyes get big, and I can FEEL the chemical reactions in my body as if I WERE yelling at these people.
Goose frah bah indeed....
Saturday, October 05, 2013
Return of the Great Spaggisini... Or "Howsabout some brunch?"
Wow.
I can't believe I haven't written word one on this thing since 2007. My god, how time has flown.
So, why start now? Haha.... pardon me while I giggle helplessly for a moment...
I need to start writing so I'll be writing. Because when I don't write, I don't write. Right?
Let me explain... no, there is too much, let me sum up...
I bitch and moan to my buddy Dave about wanting to write. Day in, day out, wah wah wah. So Dave, being a good friend and a wise one, kicked me in my chunky keister and said "Quit worrying about what to write and JUST WRITE. Do a blog, post your stuff. It doesn't have to be about what you had for lunch, or where you're currently taking a dump. Just write whatever. If you've got a story you're working on, or want to work on, work on it there. If you're good, you'll get an audience."
So, Dave, here we go... again... We'll try it your way. Maybe even get some interesting ideas going on. Maybe they'll turn into stories (novel? - Let's not get too hasty here... don't smoke TOO much pipeweed...) But who knows. Not I.
Although, I think I've got an idea to a short story Dave wrote once. I'll have to dig up the original and see if I can work my own magic on it.
Not that I'm a sorcerer, wizard, magician, or any other wielder of the weird arts. Neither neuromancer nor necromancer. I just want to be a story teller.
So... here I go...
I can't believe I haven't written word one on this thing since 2007. My god, how time has flown.
So, why start now? Haha.... pardon me while I giggle helplessly for a moment...
I need to start writing so I'll be writing. Because when I don't write, I don't write. Right?
Let me explain... no, there is too much, let me sum up...
I bitch and moan to my buddy Dave about wanting to write. Day in, day out, wah wah wah. So Dave, being a good friend and a wise one, kicked me in my chunky keister and said "Quit worrying about what to write and JUST WRITE. Do a blog, post your stuff. It doesn't have to be about what you had for lunch, or where you're currently taking a dump. Just write whatever. If you've got a story you're working on, or want to work on, work on it there. If you're good, you'll get an audience."
So, Dave, here we go... again... We'll try it your way. Maybe even get some interesting ideas going on. Maybe they'll turn into stories (novel? - Let's not get too hasty here... don't smoke TOO much pipeweed...) But who knows. Not I.
Although, I think I've got an idea to a short story Dave wrote once. I'll have to dig up the original and see if I can work my own magic on it.
Not that I'm a sorcerer, wizard, magician, or any other wielder of the weird arts. Neither neuromancer nor necromancer. I just want to be a story teller.
So... here I go...
Sunday, May 20, 2007
American Taboos
Saw an interesting episode of 20/20 Friday night called “Taboos: What You Can’t Do in America.” It had four main ideas it was trying to put forth as American taboos, none of which truly qualify in my mind for the definition.
WARNING: content may offend. You have been warned.
The first item is the word “nigger.” The N-Bomb. The word we’re NEVER supposed to say… if we’re white… If we’re black, it’s perfectly alright to say it… huh?!?!?!
They had D.L. Hughley on the program, discussing the usage of the word. He made some interesting and, to my way of thinking, valid points in its regard.
One, anyone should be able to say it. IT IS A WORD… six letters strung together that, because of historical reference and implication, connotes racism and hatred. The word was created by white people, and then shanghaied by black people, turned from a negative connotation to a more positive connotation… depending upon whom you talk to. Rap guys want it to have positive spin: “What up, my nigga!” Chris Rock and Whoopie Goldberg don’t put a positive spin on it, because to their way of thinking, those who fit that particular moniker have devalued themselves as human beings, living down to a standard that no individual should STRIVE to attain.
Second, it is JUST a word… Hughley made the point that so much time and energy is spent on keeping the word “nigger” from being spoken in public, but that there are so many more concerns that should be addressed. Like education. Like poverty. If we spent as much time addressing those REAL issues that is spent on the fake issue of the word “nigger,” the word’s usage would greatly diminish. And through that diminishment, it would lose its power. It ONLY has power because people give it power. People CHOOSE to allow that word to incite and offend. If we quit giving it power, it will stop being “taboo.”
Second item was the concept of gays in Hollywood. Now, nobody is being stupid and saying there are no gays in Hollywood. What “they” are saying (they being the producers and/or studio owners) is that a gay man cannot (and will not) be a lead in a romantic comedy. The reason being goes to an old Hollywood adage regarding leading men: “All the men want to be you, all the women want to be with you.” So the reasoning goes: if you put a known homosexual male in a lead heterosexual romantic role, the ability for the audience to suspend disbelief of reality fails. Thus the movie loses money, because the woman can’t fantasize about the male lead.
We can believe that Bruce Willis drives a cop car up a tollbooth and into a flying helicopter and survives the explosion, but we can’t believe that Rupert Everett can be sexy with, say, Julia Roberts, in a romantic comedy? Somebody on the show made the point that it would take something like Brad Pitt to announce he was gay for this particular “taboo” to end. Because I don’t tend to think in those terms, I’m not sure if there’s any validity to any of it. It makes sense from a psychological viewpoint. But I think if Hugh Jackman came out of the closet (not that I think he’s gay, but what if…), woman would STILL go to a romantic film with him as the lead, if only with the mentality of “Can’t we turn him straight?”
Enough of that…
Third concept: mixed marriage and gender role reversal. By mixed marriage, they touched on, but did not go deeply into, racial difference. It apparently is ok for a black man to date / marry a white woman, but not the other way around (at least in Hollywood). Makes no sense to me, but whatever…
Mostly what they dealt with was a couple where the woman was overweight but her husband was average weight (what I call Jack Sprat Syndrome). This is taboo? Nobody told me this, nobody sent me the memo. And WHY is this taboo? I married Steph, not because of her weight, but because of WHO she is: a smart, fascinating, engaging woman. So she’s overweight. SO WHAT? But, as Steph has pointed out, we don’t get the derogatory looks since I put on some weight of my own. When I was toothpick-like, she says we would get odd looks when we would go out in public. I never noticed. I was oblivious.
The other example that had was a couple in Utah (of all places) where the mom is the major breadwinner, and the dad is stay-at-home. Not because he’s incapable of earning income. He founded some Internet company, then retired to stay home and take care of the kids. This was by choice. His wife had a better income (she’s president of a scrap booking company) and they decided AS A COUPLE that she would continue working and that he would take on the house duties. Their family and neighbors can’t understand it. “What’s wrong with him? Can’t he get a job?”
This “taboo” comes from perspective and cultural influence. American males, by and large, grow up with the idea that, in order to be successful as a MAN, you have to go out and earn a living, and get a wife to stay home, take care of the house, and raise the kids. But, economics being what they are, and the women’s liberation movement being what it is, more and more couples are doing the double income thing. It’s rare when a couple come to the decision of the woman working and the man staying at home. “It’s just downright un-American!” Hey, if Steph had the better income job, we might consider the role reversal…
Fourth item struck me as a “reaching” piece. It concerned a mom who had the “audacity” to say her children bored her. She had been a working woman, but had a couple of kids and was doing the mommy thing. She had gone to mommy / baby “play dates” where all the moms and kids sat around doing repetitive kid education type games. Then she printed an article in the London Times saying she was bored to death.
Ladies… mommies… I hate to break it to you, but raising kids is challenging, it’s rewarding, but it is NOT exciting. Yes, there are times when your adrenaline gets kicked up, because your kid is in a situation where danger MIGHT rear its ugly head. But ONLY because good parents are paranoid. By and large, kids are boring. Don’t you remember? Life was pretty humdrum. The excitement you felt was what you created, by and large. And what excites a kid does not necessarily excite an adult.
Now, to be honest, I thought the mom in question was rather selfish; thinking only of her own interests and desires. Hate to break it to you, ma’am, but you made a choice to have kids. That choice means you have to put your kids FIRST. YOUR desires are now secondary, in favor of betterment of your children. Yes, raising kids is boring and monotonous, but it is not forever. Be thankful that you have NORMAL children, that your life IS boring. Be thankful you don’t have a special needs child to complicate you life. THAT is not boring. It’s not the kind of excitement you want, but it’s NOT boring.
So that’s what 20/20 is calling taboos. Funny… I’ve thought that cannibalism, child rape, and incest were taboos… Have those reached a point of acceptance in this country? So much so that a word, an idea, a lifestyle… these are NOW our taboos? If this is the case, we deserve something of biblical proportions to smite us. Rain of fire, world flood, locusts… global warming… hmmm….
WARNING: content may offend. You have been warned.
The first item is the word “nigger.” The N-Bomb. The word we’re NEVER supposed to say… if we’re white… If we’re black, it’s perfectly alright to say it… huh?!?!?!
They had D.L. Hughley on the program, discussing the usage of the word. He made some interesting and, to my way of thinking, valid points in its regard.
One, anyone should be able to say it. IT IS A WORD… six letters strung together that, because of historical reference and implication, connotes racism and hatred. The word was created by white people, and then shanghaied by black people, turned from a negative connotation to a more positive connotation… depending upon whom you talk to. Rap guys want it to have positive spin: “What up, my nigga!” Chris Rock and Whoopie Goldberg don’t put a positive spin on it, because to their way of thinking, those who fit that particular moniker have devalued themselves as human beings, living down to a standard that no individual should STRIVE to attain.
Second, it is JUST a word… Hughley made the point that so much time and energy is spent on keeping the word “nigger” from being spoken in public, but that there are so many more concerns that should be addressed. Like education. Like poverty. If we spent as much time addressing those REAL issues that is spent on the fake issue of the word “nigger,” the word’s usage would greatly diminish. And through that diminishment, it would lose its power. It ONLY has power because people give it power. People CHOOSE to allow that word to incite and offend. If we quit giving it power, it will stop being “taboo.”
Second item was the concept of gays in Hollywood. Now, nobody is being stupid and saying there are no gays in Hollywood. What “they” are saying (they being the producers and/or studio owners) is that a gay man cannot (and will not) be a lead in a romantic comedy. The reason being goes to an old Hollywood adage regarding leading men: “All the men want to be you, all the women want to be with you.” So the reasoning goes: if you put a known homosexual male in a lead heterosexual romantic role, the ability for the audience to suspend disbelief of reality fails. Thus the movie loses money, because the woman can’t fantasize about the male lead.
We can believe that Bruce Willis drives a cop car up a tollbooth and into a flying helicopter and survives the explosion, but we can’t believe that Rupert Everett can be sexy with, say, Julia Roberts, in a romantic comedy? Somebody on the show made the point that it would take something like Brad Pitt to announce he was gay for this particular “taboo” to end. Because I don’t tend to think in those terms, I’m not sure if there’s any validity to any of it. It makes sense from a psychological viewpoint. But I think if Hugh Jackman came out of the closet (not that I think he’s gay, but what if…), woman would STILL go to a romantic film with him as the lead, if only with the mentality of “Can’t we turn him straight?”
Enough of that…
Third concept: mixed marriage and gender role reversal. By mixed marriage, they touched on, but did not go deeply into, racial difference. It apparently is ok for a black man to date / marry a white woman, but not the other way around (at least in Hollywood). Makes no sense to me, but whatever…
Mostly what they dealt with was a couple where the woman was overweight but her husband was average weight (what I call Jack Sprat Syndrome). This is taboo? Nobody told me this, nobody sent me the memo. And WHY is this taboo? I married Steph, not because of her weight, but because of WHO she is: a smart, fascinating, engaging woman. So she’s overweight. SO WHAT? But, as Steph has pointed out, we don’t get the derogatory looks since I put on some weight of my own. When I was toothpick-like, she says we would get odd looks when we would go out in public. I never noticed. I was oblivious.
The other example that had was a couple in Utah (of all places) where the mom is the major breadwinner, and the dad is stay-at-home. Not because he’s incapable of earning income. He founded some Internet company, then retired to stay home and take care of the kids. This was by choice. His wife had a better income (she’s president of a scrap booking company) and they decided AS A COUPLE that she would continue working and that he would take on the house duties. Their family and neighbors can’t understand it. “What’s wrong with him? Can’t he get a job?”
This “taboo” comes from perspective and cultural influence. American males, by and large, grow up with the idea that, in order to be successful as a MAN, you have to go out and earn a living, and get a wife to stay home, take care of the house, and raise the kids. But, economics being what they are, and the women’s liberation movement being what it is, more and more couples are doing the double income thing. It’s rare when a couple come to the decision of the woman working and the man staying at home. “It’s just downright un-American!” Hey, if Steph had the better income job, we might consider the role reversal…
Fourth item struck me as a “reaching” piece. It concerned a mom who had the “audacity” to say her children bored her. She had been a working woman, but had a couple of kids and was doing the mommy thing. She had gone to mommy / baby “play dates” where all the moms and kids sat around doing repetitive kid education type games. Then she printed an article in the London Times saying she was bored to death.
Ladies… mommies… I hate to break it to you, but raising kids is challenging, it’s rewarding, but it is NOT exciting. Yes, there are times when your adrenaline gets kicked up, because your kid is in a situation where danger MIGHT rear its ugly head. But ONLY because good parents are paranoid. By and large, kids are boring. Don’t you remember? Life was pretty humdrum. The excitement you felt was what you created, by and large. And what excites a kid does not necessarily excite an adult.
Now, to be honest, I thought the mom in question was rather selfish; thinking only of her own interests and desires. Hate to break it to you, ma’am, but you made a choice to have kids. That choice means you have to put your kids FIRST. YOUR desires are now secondary, in favor of betterment of your children. Yes, raising kids is boring and monotonous, but it is not forever. Be thankful that you have NORMAL children, that your life IS boring. Be thankful you don’t have a special needs child to complicate you life. THAT is not boring. It’s not the kind of excitement you want, but it’s NOT boring.
So that’s what 20/20 is calling taboos. Funny… I’ve thought that cannibalism, child rape, and incest were taboos… Have those reached a point of acceptance in this country? So much so that a word, an idea, a lifestyle… these are NOW our taboos? If this is the case, we deserve something of biblical proportions to smite us. Rain of fire, world flood, locusts… global warming… hmmm….
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Resolutions
As the year of our Lord 2006 (miscounted and misconstrued due to human error and arrogance) comes to a bitter end (and none too soon in most opinions...), I find myself pondering rebirth, like all of us white bread infidels do at this time of year. I look back on the previous year and wonder "how on Earth did we manage to survive all of that? And what am I going to do to try and make things better in the future?"
So.... from www.dictionary.com...
res·o·lu·tion /?r?z?'lu??n/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[rez-uh-loo-shuhn] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation
–noun 1. a formal expression of opinion or intention made, usually after voting, by a formal organization, a legislature, a club, or other group. Compare concurrent resolution, joint resolution.
2. a resolve or determination: to make a firm resolution to do something.
3. the act of resolving or determining upon an action or course of action, method, procedure, etc.
4. the mental state or quality of being resolved or resolute; firmness of purpose.
5. the act or process of resolving or separating into constituent or elementary parts.
6. the resulting state.
7. Optics. the act, process, or capability of distinguishing between two separate but adjacent objects or sources of light or between two nearly equal wavelengths. Compare resolving power.
8. a solution, accommodation, or settling of a problem, controversy, etc.
9. Music. a. the progression of a voice part or of the harmony as a whole from a dissonance to a consonance.
b. the tone or chord to which a dissonance is resolved.
10. reduction to a simpler form; conversion.
11. Medicine/Medical. the reduction or disappearance of a swelling or inflammation without suppuration.
12. the degree of sharpness of a computer-generated image as measured by the number of dots per linear inch in a hard-copy printout or the number of pixels across and down on a display screen.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Origin: 1350–1400; ME < L resolution- (s. of resolutio), equiv. to resolut(us) resolute + -ion- -ion]
Here are my sparse resolutions for this year, in hopes to gain some resolution to my life...
1) I resolve to begin jogging / running / walking / crawling as of January 1. There is a three-fold goal in this... rediculous... decision. Goal A: I don't care for my profile as it currently jiggles, and the only way I'm going to change that is to change my activity level. This means going from ZERO to something other than zero. Eventually, if I'm consistant, I should go from blob to better. Goal B: I want to run in the Hood-to-Coast relay race this year. I've walked it several times, which bears its own challenges. I want to try running to see if my lungs (and knees) can survive the experience. Death wish, I know. But I like the idea of being involved in something that is a WOLRD RECORD (world's longest relay race - check it out!). Goal C: I want to do an activity that my son and I can enjoy together. He's a runner and I expect he'll be burning up the track in the coming years. I want to get in on the ground floor with him, so we have SOMETHING in common.
2) I resolve to read more this year. This past year, I fiddle farted around and read a bunch of junk (mostly graphic novels). My goal this year is to a) read all the Harry Potter novels (and keep track of all the characters so I can solve some of the mysteries that will be revealed in book 7), b) read the Chronicles of Narnia clear through, c) read my collected works of Ray Bradbury, and c) read more non-fiction style books. I just finished BONO: CONVERSATIONS WITH MICHKA ASSAYAS. It's a facinating read, and I highly recomend it. There are too many books out there I'm interested in reading. I just have to make time to do it.
3) I resolve to blog on a more consistant basis. This once every two months business is going to end. At this point, baring acts of God, wife, or disaster, I intend to put up one blog per week. It may not be of any worth, but at least a paragraph of what's going through my head at the time. So I can feel like I'm doing SOMETHING productive with my time and space here...
4) I resolve to write more this year. I want to "train" for the November novel writing "contest" that my friend Tim exposed me to this year (hey, Tim, I still want to read your novel!). I want to FINISH the novel I started several years ago. I'd gotten so far on it, then dropped it when other things in my life came into focus. I've gotten sidetracked with mind wasting video games (solitare is my nemisis...) and TV shows (although you can't fault me too much for watching Heroes... that show ROCKS!).
I'm sure there is more I want to do... I've got a list around here somewhere... and if/when I find it, I'll put up a part two.
In the meantime, Happy New Year, to one and all, and may the Spirit of Peace invade us all.
Dan
So.... from www.dictionary.com...
res·o·lu·tion /?r?z?'lu??n/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[rez-uh-loo-shuhn] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation
–noun 1. a formal expression of opinion or intention made, usually after voting, by a formal organization, a legislature, a club, or other group. Compare concurrent resolution, joint resolution.
2. a resolve or determination: to make a firm resolution to do something.
3. the act of resolving or determining upon an action or course of action, method, procedure, etc.
4. the mental state or quality of being resolved or resolute; firmness of purpose.
5. the act or process of resolving or separating into constituent or elementary parts.
6. the resulting state.
7. Optics. the act, process, or capability of distinguishing between two separate but adjacent objects or sources of light or between two nearly equal wavelengths. Compare resolving power.
8. a solution, accommodation, or settling of a problem, controversy, etc.
9. Music. a. the progression of a voice part or of the harmony as a whole from a dissonance to a consonance.
b. the tone or chord to which a dissonance is resolved.
10. reduction to a simpler form; conversion.
11. Medicine/Medical. the reduction or disappearance of a swelling or inflammation without suppuration.
12. the degree of sharpness of a computer-generated image as measured by the number of dots per linear inch in a hard-copy printout or the number of pixels across and down on a display screen.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Origin: 1350–1400; ME < L resolution- (s. of resolutio), equiv. to resolut(us) resolute + -ion- -ion]
Here are my sparse resolutions for this year, in hopes to gain some resolution to my life...
1) I resolve to begin jogging / running / walking / crawling as of January 1. There is a three-fold goal in this... rediculous... decision. Goal A: I don't care for my profile as it currently jiggles, and the only way I'm going to change that is to change my activity level. This means going from ZERO to something other than zero. Eventually, if I'm consistant, I should go from blob to better. Goal B: I want to run in the Hood-to-Coast relay race this year. I've walked it several times, which bears its own challenges. I want to try running to see if my lungs (and knees) can survive the experience. Death wish, I know. But I like the idea of being involved in something that is a WOLRD RECORD (world's longest relay race - check it out!). Goal C: I want to do an activity that my son and I can enjoy together. He's a runner and I expect he'll be burning up the track in the coming years. I want to get in on the ground floor with him, so we have SOMETHING in common.
2) I resolve to read more this year. This past year, I fiddle farted around and read a bunch of junk (mostly graphic novels). My goal this year is to a) read all the Harry Potter novels (and keep track of all the characters so I can solve some of the mysteries that will be revealed in book 7), b) read the Chronicles of Narnia clear through, c) read my collected works of Ray Bradbury, and c) read more non-fiction style books. I just finished BONO: CONVERSATIONS WITH MICHKA ASSAYAS. It's a facinating read, and I highly recomend it. There are too many books out there I'm interested in reading. I just have to make time to do it.
3) I resolve to blog on a more consistant basis. This once every two months business is going to end. At this point, baring acts of God, wife, or disaster, I intend to put up one blog per week. It may not be of any worth, but at least a paragraph of what's going through my head at the time. So I can feel like I'm doing SOMETHING productive with my time and space here...
4) I resolve to write more this year. I want to "train" for the November novel writing "contest" that my friend Tim exposed me to this year (hey, Tim, I still want to read your novel!). I want to FINISH the novel I started several years ago. I'd gotten so far on it, then dropped it when other things in my life came into focus. I've gotten sidetracked with mind wasting video games (solitare is my nemisis...) and TV shows (although you can't fault me too much for watching Heroes... that show ROCKS!).
I'm sure there is more I want to do... I've got a list around here somewhere... and if/when I find it, I'll put up a part two.
In the meantime, Happy New Year, to one and all, and may the Spirit of Peace invade us all.
Dan
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Scared Citizen
Today is November 8, 2006. The day after, as it were.
In a very vocal display, the country has decided enough is enough as it applies to Republicans running the Senate, and it's a really close call in the House at this time.
This doesn't surprise me, or even bother me all that much. We need a change, I just hope that we haven't shot ourselves in the foot in the long run. Only time will tell... as has already been demonstrated by the Republican party. Or are they changing their name to the Scandal party? Or the Pighead Party?
I digress...
I'm disturbed, nay scared, at the results in our local issues. I woke up this morning to find that my fellow Oregonians are pro-greed, pro-bureaucracy, and pro-stupidity.
The state has spoken and it's citizens have said, "Yes! We want insurance companies using our credit ratings to determine our rates!" Can someone smarter than myself explain to me how credit ratings have ANYTHING to do with insurance rates?!?!
Here's how it breaks down for me personally. I have not had a claim against my driving record in over ten years. The last time I had to file a claim on my car, it was for a hit-and-run accident where my car was parked. I was not even in the vehicle. This was back in summer of 1996. But because the people of Oregon have spoken, my insurance rates are going to go up... because I bought a house this last spring. Meanwhile, some guy who makes a million bucks a month can total his Hummer or Beamer or Infiniti, and his rates are going to stay lower... because he has "good credit."
Is this right? No. Is this just? No. Is this fair? No. Is it stupid? I think it is.
The people of this glorious state have said "No! A parent should not be told that his/her teenage daughter has had or is planning to get an abortion, regardless of the circumstances!"
For the record, I'm not anti-abortion, I'm anti-irresponsibility. I don't think abortions should be doled out like candy whenever a woman wants to have one. I'm not anti-choice, I'm pro-responsibility. When a women engages in sexual activity (with the exception of rape, and I'll get to that in a moment), she has made a choice. If she chooses to have unprotected sex, she has made a choice. Why do we, as a collective people, refuse to take responsibility for the choices we make? I think that if abortion clinics sent the bill to the fathers, you might see less abortions being practiced. A ridiculous, impractical solution, I know, but only because we think in terms of financial impact, not moral responsibility.
Now, if a woman (or girl) is raped or is a victim of incest, I think that's a different matter, because there was no choice on the woman's part. And these right-wing, holier-than-thou conservatives who scream and holler against abortion need to get a clue to the bigger picture. It's not that their anti-abortion. You ask a mother in a church about how her congregation reacts when she tells them that she's had a miscarriage, I'm guessing they're very supportive. "Oh, that's horrible! I'm so sorry for you!" Ask that same mother what her congregation's reaction is if she has an abortion, I'm guessing the reaction is very negative. "You evil woman! You're going to hell, you murdering adulteress!" It doesn't matter what the reason behind it is, to these people abortion FOR ANY REASON is a sin, an abomination, and they want stoning back on the books just for these situations.
So, in Oregon, we had a measure that, if I read it correctly, would have sent notice to parents of teenage girls who were going to get abortions. If I read it correctly, and understood it, this measure was to help the parents be informed about a decision that could drastically effect the life of their daughter. It was to help enable parents to be responsible in the lives of their children. And, of course, we voted it down, because it infringes on the right to privacy of the girl.
Would someone smarter than I please explain, in simple words and phrases (for I am obviously a fool), how a girl under the age of 18 is not allowed by law to drink, is not allowed by law to smoke, is not allowed by law to vote, but is allowed by law to not only get an abortion but keep it a secret from her parents?
Ok, enough ranting on that, because I'm not getting anywhere forward with it.
My final sadness is that the people of Oregon City voted, and they said "No! We don't want to pay an extra $50 a year to keep the library services running!"
Sigh.
In past elections, the citizenry here voted to spend more money fighting mosquitoes than fund the library. Hey! Guess what! If you actually went to your library, and did some research on mosquitoes, you might figure out how to fight them on your own, instead of relying on your local government to do it for you!
In this state, because we have mail-in voting, the library has been a convenient ballot drop-off point. This will be one of the services that will be cut because of budget restrains. I suspect that people didn't take that into consideration.
Something else that just out-and-out pisses me off is that our local government approved and implemented a multi-million dollar "refurbishment" plan that effectively killed business, and put unwanted statuary up in the main traffic zone of town. But they couldn't send funds toward the library to keep it a public service.
I throw up my hands and wail at the wall. The people have spoken. Who am I to baa in a different voice...
In a very vocal display, the country has decided enough is enough as it applies to Republicans running the Senate, and it's a really close call in the House at this time.
This doesn't surprise me, or even bother me all that much. We need a change, I just hope that we haven't shot ourselves in the foot in the long run. Only time will tell... as has already been demonstrated by the Republican party. Or are they changing their name to the Scandal party? Or the Pighead Party?
I digress...
I'm disturbed, nay scared, at the results in our local issues. I woke up this morning to find that my fellow Oregonians are pro-greed, pro-bureaucracy, and pro-stupidity.
The state has spoken and it's citizens have said, "Yes! We want insurance companies using our credit ratings to determine our rates!" Can someone smarter than myself explain to me how credit ratings have ANYTHING to do with insurance rates?!?!
Here's how it breaks down for me personally. I have not had a claim against my driving record in over ten years. The last time I had to file a claim on my car, it was for a hit-and-run accident where my car was parked. I was not even in the vehicle. This was back in summer of 1996. But because the people of Oregon have spoken, my insurance rates are going to go up... because I bought a house this last spring. Meanwhile, some guy who makes a million bucks a month can total his Hummer or Beamer or Infiniti, and his rates are going to stay lower... because he has "good credit."
Is this right? No. Is this just? No. Is this fair? No. Is it stupid? I think it is.
The people of this glorious state have said "No! A parent should not be told that his/her teenage daughter has had or is planning to get an abortion, regardless of the circumstances!"
For the record, I'm not anti-abortion, I'm anti-irresponsibility. I don't think abortions should be doled out like candy whenever a woman wants to have one. I'm not anti-choice, I'm pro-responsibility. When a women engages in sexual activity (with the exception of rape, and I'll get to that in a moment), she has made a choice. If she chooses to have unprotected sex, she has made a choice. Why do we, as a collective people, refuse to take responsibility for the choices we make? I think that if abortion clinics sent the bill to the fathers, you might see less abortions being practiced. A ridiculous, impractical solution, I know, but only because we think in terms of financial impact, not moral responsibility.
Now, if a woman (or girl) is raped or is a victim of incest, I think that's a different matter, because there was no choice on the woman's part. And these right-wing, holier-than-thou conservatives who scream and holler against abortion need to get a clue to the bigger picture. It's not that their anti-abortion. You ask a mother in a church about how her congregation reacts when she tells them that she's had a miscarriage, I'm guessing they're very supportive. "Oh, that's horrible! I'm so sorry for you!" Ask that same mother what her congregation's reaction is if she has an abortion, I'm guessing the reaction is very negative. "You evil woman! You're going to hell, you murdering adulteress!" It doesn't matter what the reason behind it is, to these people abortion FOR ANY REASON is a sin, an abomination, and they want stoning back on the books just for these situations.
So, in Oregon, we had a measure that, if I read it correctly, would have sent notice to parents of teenage girls who were going to get abortions. If I read it correctly, and understood it, this measure was to help the parents be informed about a decision that could drastically effect the life of their daughter. It was to help enable parents to be responsible in the lives of their children. And, of course, we voted it down, because it infringes on the right to privacy of the girl.
Would someone smarter than I please explain, in simple words and phrases (for I am obviously a fool), how a girl under the age of 18 is not allowed by law to drink, is not allowed by law to smoke, is not allowed by law to vote, but is allowed by law to not only get an abortion but keep it a secret from her parents?
Ok, enough ranting on that, because I'm not getting anywhere forward with it.
My final sadness is that the people of Oregon City voted, and they said "No! We don't want to pay an extra $50 a year to keep the library services running!"
Sigh.
In past elections, the citizenry here voted to spend more money fighting mosquitoes than fund the library. Hey! Guess what! If you actually went to your library, and did some research on mosquitoes, you might figure out how to fight them on your own, instead of relying on your local government to do it for you!
In this state, because we have mail-in voting, the library has been a convenient ballot drop-off point. This will be one of the services that will be cut because of budget restrains. I suspect that people didn't take that into consideration.
Something else that just out-and-out pisses me off is that our local government approved and implemented a multi-million dollar "refurbishment" plan that effectively killed business, and put unwanted statuary up in the main traffic zone of town. But they couldn't send funds toward the library to keep it a public service.
I throw up my hands and wail at the wall. The people have spoken. Who am I to baa in a different voice...
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