-The Reader
-The Thinker
-The Understander
-The Studier
-The Knower
-The Truth-Teller
-The Resigner
-The Guy Who Doesn't Annoy The Shit Out Of Me With His Fucking Obnoxious Snicker
Last night, after doing a little personal inventory, I realized that I have only bought one piece of furniture in my life - my bed. When I moved out of my parent's home I rented a furnished home. Along the way people would offer a sofa or a bookcase they wanted to get rid of to supplement the crappy stuff that came with my rental. By the time I moved out I had replaced most of my landlord's furniture with other people's hand-me-downs. When it came time to move into my own home, I had everything I needed except the bed. Everything else - sofa, chairs, tables, bookshelves, lamps, etc. - were either previously owned, gifts, or things I made myself. Hell, even my house is second-hand. Someone agreed to give me their house provided I paid to have it moved to another site. You can see video of it moving, an amazing process that happened all in one day. It was a sight to see my "new" house roll right down the main street of my little town. I guess I believe that if something is still useful and isn't a total piece of shit, may as well keep it rather than add it to another growing pile of garbage while going out and buying a replacement (that will someday end up in an even bigger garbage pile).
I have become a huge fan of documentary films after I started a subscription to Netflix, the popular DVD-by-mail outfit. In order to spread the word about this great genre, I've decided to highlight a new film every couple days. My first is a film called "Grey Gardens", by Albert and David Maysles (pronounced MAY-zuls) made in 1975. The film is in the true spirit of direct cinema, a style where there is no interaction between the film crew (in this case the two brothers) and their subjects and no narration. It is also known as fly-on-the -wall. The two subjects are Edith Bouvier Beale and her daughter Edie. They are the aunt and cousin, respectively, of Jackie Kennedy Onassis. They live (or rather have sequestered themselves) in a dilapidated mansion in the Hamptons on Long Island. The house is home to tons of cats, raccoons, and these two women. Because the house is in such disrepair, they confine themselves primarily to one room. The film documents their interaction and eccentricities. It is absolutely fascinating and proves that you don't need a lot of characters OR scripted dialogue to make a compelling movie. I must admit, upon my first viewing, I made it about 30 minutes in and turned it off because I thought it was stupid. I didn't get it. I gave it another chance and the second time, I couldn't tear myself away. If you are patient enough and don't mind a film that lacks guns and nudity, you will be treated to a character study that is timeless.
The phrase "events on the ground" is one that is ready to be retired. Like when you hear them say, "Troop levels in Iraq will be dictated by events on the ground." I guess this is to differentiate between events in the sky. So all you people flying kites in Iraq and thinking it's going to drive out our troops - guess again! Or maybe there is some sort of radically different gravitational pull in Iraq and some events just sort of hover. It is a meaningless use of words. Just say "events in Iraq". We'll assume they're happening on the ground. Besides, can't you see you're confusing the shit out of poor Dickie.
Well, well, well. Look what debate has once again reared it's ugly head. It's an oldie but a goodie - perhaps the greatest smokescreen of all time! Bill Hicks had a great bit about this years ago and it still applies today. He addressed people who say things like "My daddy died for that flag." He maintained that nobody dies for a flag. A flag is a piece of cloth. They may have died for freedom which, by the way, includes the freedom to burn the flag. This is such a blatant act of pandering that it is stunning that the public continues to treat this seriously. If the thing you love most about the U.S.A. is a non-burning flag, or even it's in your top ten, you might want to consider rearranging your priorities. Besides, where is all this flag burning happening in the U.S.? Is it that out of control that the Congress need to amend the Constitution? No, but Republicans know that the rest of their platform is shit, so who's gonna notice another turd.
See if you can guess the origin of these song lyrics. If you know any of these, let's be friends. Answers are hidden and can be revealed by highlighting the text under each group.
R314.2 Spiral stairs. Spiral stairways are permitted, provided the minimum width shall be 26 inches (660 mm) with each tread having a 7 1/2 inch (190 mm) minimum tread width at 12 inches (305 mm) from the narrow edge. All treads shall be identical, and the rise shall be no more than9 1/2 inches (241 mm). A minimum headroom of 6 feet, 6 inches (1982 mm) shall be provided. - Michigan Residential Code, 2000
I was the subject of bullying from grades one through four. I'm not sure what brought it on. I was pretty shy and didn't attract a lot of attention to myself. I was small for my age and therefore couldn't fight back, especially not against the 3 or 4 older kids who tormented me daily going to and from school. I also had a pretty long walk, which provided plenty of time to do damage. They would play keep-away with my lunchbox, throw me in the bushes, and constantly kick my ankles to try and make me trip over my own feet. As we all know, unless you are planning on having some sort of constant bodyguard, you can't tell anyone without making matters worse for yourself. So, I had to live with it for four years. Sometimes I'd sprint home before they could catch me. Other times I'd wait long after everyone had left, which often meant I'd miss The Brady Bunch (fuckers!). A lot of people dream about the day they will finally exact revenge on their childhood bullies. Not me. This is what gets us into trouble, I think. You're better off to just let it go. I had plenty of opportunities as I got older to make younger kids suffer the way I had. I chose to end the cycle at me. There just didn't seem any logic to it. These experiences have played a huge part in my present attitudes towards current events. I know a bully when I see one. It's no wonder I have such a problem with Iceland.
I was reading somewhere that the guy who is suing to get god out of the pledge of allegiance was ruled against in his latest attempt. Can someone who is strongly in favor of leaving god in the pledge please explain why the fuck it is so important to you. Hold on. Before you do, a few ground rules, OK? Please don't mention anything about the founding father's wishes. You didn't know them. Their wishes mean jack squat. They also had wishes that people be allowed to own other people. Their wishes are no more sacred than the wishes you made when you were ten, blowing out your candles, that Marcia Brady would come to your house and sit on your face. As you probably know the pledge wasn't even written by the founders. It was written by *gasp* a SOCIALIST! The "under god" part wasn't added until 1951. Also, spare me your baloney about how this is a nation founded on Judeo-Christian ethics. Blabbity blabbity blah blah. It still doesn't answer my question. Why is it important TO YOU? Are you afraid you'll forget about god if you don't say his name at least 50 times a day? Hell, just walk out and take a look at your car bumper. God's plastered all over it! Besides, who in the name of Buddha says the pledge anymore? I haven't said the pledge since I was in school and I refuse to say it now. Wake the hell up, America! This is nothing more than a cheap parlor trick perpetrated by Fox News so they can sell more antacid. If you think it means something, it tells me that you are pretty insecure about your faith and about your patriotism. Don't worry, I still love you anyway.
So far this summer I've had two young houseguests, one 8 months and the other 2 years old. I am not typically around people this age. One thing I've noticed is that adults are anxious to assign a future profession based on some physical or personality trait of the child. For example, if a baby spastically kicks their legs a lot, often you'll hear, "Wow. She's going to be a soccer player." Or if they like to bang on pots and pans, "Hey, looks like you've got a drummer on your hands." The problem is that the professions are usually ones that are extremely hard to get into and often require highly specific skills that would be difficult to detect at such an early age. I think we should start being honest with parents and stop filling them with false hope. The fact is their child is probably going to grow up to be an accountant or a sales rep of some kind.
Ann, you see, was privy to an extra commandment we all missed out on. Pat Robertson whispered it to her one day as they were trying to give mouth-to-mouth to aborted fetuses. It goes like this:
Thou shalt advocate assassination of thy brother and sister who doesn't agree with thou.
Once again, hats off to a loyal Christian soldier and one heckuva nice gal.
I am a sucker for babies. It's too bad it's not yet socially acceptable 
I watch a lot of goddamn TV. I always have. I watch as many good shows as I watch shit. My latest adventure has been working my way through every season of The Sopranos. My friend has the first five seasons on DVD and loaned me the first four. It took me about a week and a half to finish those - 52 hours worth. I have just gotten the first two discs of season five from Netflix and am pleased with how it starts out. See, I never had HBO and missed the entire run. I must say that all the hype about this show is true. This is probably the best dramatic television out there, bar none. I have heard from people that certain seasons aren't as good as others, but for me it has been one continuous season and I haven't noticed any sort of difference in quality. The depth of the characters, the casting, the performances, and amazing writing make this show great. There are so many little nuggets in each episode to savor. It will be a show that I will actually miss once it's gone, like Seinfeld. Speaking of Seinfeld, I noticed some crossover. I immediately recognized the actor who plays Mel, Uncle Junior's lawyer, from an episode of Seinfeld. It's the one where George parks in the handicapped spot at the mall. He and Kramer have to buy a wheelchair for someone. The guy selling wheelchairs is kind of a used car salesman-type. That's him. Richard Portnow. He's been in a shitload of stuff.
Upon reviewing the posts I've made thus far, I'm realizing that I come off as a sarcastic, cynical, vulgar person. What happened to that bright-eyed, happy-go-lucky child that played T-ball, obeyed his parents, and regularly attended Sunday School? Pre-college, I embodied the All-American goody-goody that you just wanted to pummel. I got good grades with little effort. I never got in trouble in school (or anywhere, for that matter). I helped out senior citizens my mom knew with their yardwork. I kept my hair short. I didn't drink or do drugs. I considered myself a Republican, based mainly on the fact that my second grade teacher told us Democrats were in favor of slavery and Republicans were against it (no joke). I was even told by people that they thought I should be a pastor. So where did I go wrong? Things started to change when I started to listen to this guy. And thank god. Otherwise, today I might be this guy.
Those of you who know me know that I have a big problem with Hollywood's continued insistence on adapting TV sitcoms for motion picture release. In essence it's nothing more than tossing shit at the screen and seeing what sticks. For some, this post may be a bit of a rerun, but I feel it's worthy of further discussion, so bite me.
A lot of conservative friends of mine always seem baffled by why the terrorists hate the United States. This is somewhat surprising, given the fact that our government has consistently provided a rational explanation. The government has said that, above all, they hate us for our freedom. Simple as that. Case closed.
I consider myself a very well-informed person. I'm pretty aware of what's going on in the world. I pay attention to things and have a decent memory. I am also very open when it comes to talking about potentially taboo topics like religion, sex, and politics. I have absolutely no memory of anyone - not family, not friends, not teachers - ever talking to me about hemorrhoids.
Back in the late eighties, many of us were introduced to the zany antics of Zack, Kelly, Slater, Jessie, Screech, Lisa, and of course their comic foil, Mr. Belding (masterfully played by Dennis Hastings). The show "Saved By The Bell" ushered in a new era of Saturday morning television. Honestly, who can forget the time Zack comes up with an ill-fated get rich quick scheme, only to redeem himself in the end? Or that heartbreaking episode when Lisa calls Screech a dork? Or how about when Kelly, light years ahead of her time, wore a midriff-baring outfit? Yes, we have followed this show through its many incarnations. It all started with the original, followed by Saved By The Bell: Hawaiian Style, Saved By The Bell: The College Years, Saved By The Bell: Wedding In Las Vegas, and ultimately Saved By The Bell: They Shove Cumbersome Objects Into Their Anuses. (I won't get into that bastard spawn, Saved By The Bell: The New Class.) Saved By The Bell continues to maintain an audience in syndication on TBS, with back-to-back episodes each morning at 7:00. What I'd like to know is why I continue to watch this show? Never - not once - have I ever laughed at this show. I suppose the girls on the show are attractive, but not enough to warrant sitting through such gut-wrenchingly unfunny material. Each morning, between my shower and when I have to leave for work I tune in, hoping beyond hope that this show will, at long last, make me laugh. Alas, I know deep down it will never be. The show seems to have taken the torch from a former syndication powerhouse, The Brady Bunch, which despite being completely dated and absent any discernable humor, flourished well beyond its initial run. So why? What is it about this show that has such a stranglehold on me? There is a pair of slightly worn checkerboard Vans and and a lock of Slater's hair (possibly pubic) in it for whoever can provide the best explanation.
