This Land is Your Land. . .

October 28, 2006 at 8:26 PM | Posted in Journal | 2 Comments
  Apparently, there is some beautiful country around here.  Never really thought about it before.  I was raised in the country, across the river in Illinois, then I lived in the city and the suburbs,and once again I live in a semi-rural area in east central Missouri.  Missourah.
  In the the city, it’s Missouri.  The city, the burbs, you go ahead and make the effort and pronounce the "i."  But in the country, in the sticks. . .it’s a different pace.  Just let that last syllable drop slowly off your lips, like you’re about to go into another story right from that word.  Like enunciation is some fancy thing that happens in them big city cath-o-lick cathedrals, and folks’ll look at you funny.  This is a different time, a different place, where there is a deeper connection to the past.
  "In a Missourah, back in the day–"
  I’m curious, but not curious enough to look it up, because I have to limit my internet use at work right now (this whole big political thing going on)– what percentage of the US population lives in urban areas and what percentage lives in rural areas.  TV, movies, and other media generally portray most people living in cities (Seinfeld, Mad About You, Friends, et cetera, ad nauseum) or suburbs (the OC, 90210, Melrose Place, ditto on the ad nauseum).  Even crime shows and hospital shows are all metropolitan based.  To Hollywood, the heartland just doesn’t exist.
  (This just came to me.  Imagine, if you will CSI: Mayberry.  Or Green Acres Vice.  Petticoat Junction 90210.  You get the point.)
  It is more than just a cliche that Hollywood is out of touch with the rest of the country, never mind the rest of the world.  We of the stick are certainly not sophisticated enough for the their worldly sensibilites.  However, the flipside of that is, I am completely unimpressed with their condescending, holier-than-thou attitude and overall sense that they find the rest of America quaint and charming but backwards and ultimately not nearly as important as they are.
  They can french kiss the front of my ass.  (Where my dick is.)
  Okay, back to my original point.  I got the opportunity to see Missourah through the eyes of someone new.  Detroit and I went for a drive through the rural parts of the county we live in.  Rolling hills, sweeping valleys, and the colors of fall on display.  Farms scattered hither and yon, and houses spread far and wide, and set way back upon the land, in defiance of the collective unconscience desire to gather and huddle together they instead display the fiercely independent and very American concept of individualism.
  As we drove through the land, the radio was low, and our thoughts were mostly private.  On the rare occasion, Detroit would have a quiet outburst, and fill me with happiness at the confirmation of our connectedness, because our thoughts were synchronous, in harmony.
  "This. . .is beautiful.  Absolutely gorgeous."
  The sun was in the southwestern sky, which lay beyond us, behind the clouds.  But it was there, and its rays sliced through them and hit the earth with an ethereal glow.  The trees seemed to revel in the sunlight, their leaves dancing in the light, reflecting like multicolored jewels in the the late afternoon sun.  The sky was blue, with the barest hint of the sunset to come.  The road lay before us, curved and hilly, and disappearing into the horizon, with a promise to meet the sun there.
  The wind was calm, the air was crisp, and clear.  It felt good to breathe it in, to feel this gift of the natural world nourish our spirits.
  And it was quiet.  Not another person, not another car, nor anything, save the road, gave up our secret that man had been here.  It was just us. . .and the world.
  It gave me hope, and filled my spirit with happiness, contentment.  So much had gone on, so much had happened.  Too much to digest at once, but a piece at a time it eats at your soul.  You begin to wonder, what is the point, what’s the purpose?  This path I’ve chosen. . .where will it lead me, and what will I leave behind? 
  But to gaze upon this beauty gave me pause, and I sighed a sigh that went deep into my soul, deep inside me, drawing out the breath that with it took my pain, my doubt, my ambiguity over life and it’s meaning.
  Detroit says, "How can anyone look at this, and not believe in God?"
  It was the very thought I had.


October 20, 2006 at 8:20 AM | Posted in Notes on Society | 2 Comments
My girlfriend is from Detroit, and last night we the discussion, because now, it’s going to be Detroit and St Louis in the World Series.
"Go Detroit!" she says, not realizing where she lives now.
"Go Cardinals!" I respond, because I am logical.
Watching the news, they show response in Detroit as well.  Many residents claim that Detroit is the best sports town in the country.  Obviously they are wrong.
Her:  "Red Wing fans are die hard fans!"
I:  "Blues fans are die hard fans!"
Her:  "Lions fans are die hard fans, no matter how bad they do!"
I:  "Rams fans are die hard fans, with very few reservations or caveats!"
Her:  "Tigers fans are insane crazy passionate about their team!"
I:  "Cardinals fans are world famous for supporting their team!"
Her:  "Tigers fans have guns!"
I:  "Let’s watch the game from home. . ."

Are You Impaired in Some Way?

October 13, 2006 at 10:32 AM | Posted in Notes on Society | Leave a comment
   What a shame.  Air America, that paragon of truth, justice, and the socialist way, has filed for bankruptcy.  Hopefully they can get protection from the federal government, like the airlines.  After all, they provide a valuable service.  How else would we know what a horrible place this country is, how wrong every single policy we have is, and how ruthless, despotic dictators who routinely, daily, kill, torture, control enslave, and starve their people are actually wonderful people deserving our respect and admiration, and how everything we have ever done as a nation is wrong.  It’s especially important to get the unbiased truth out, about the fact that even though the economy is great, unemployment is low, and things are bright and shiny in America, that since they support a socialist, secular agenda and can’t make any headway in middle America because most of us don’t have our heads up our asses.
Air America:  America sucks!  Government, can you support us with tax money so we can continue to get our fair, unbiased message out?
Government:  Uh, look, I don’t think so.  We believe in capitalism.  Sink or swim. 
Air America:  We provide a necessary service to the people.  That’s censorship!  That’s unfair!  America sucks!  Are you sure you can’t help? 
Government:  Sorry.  No.
Air-Am:  What about Fox News?  You support them!  (self-assured smugness)
Gov:  They support themselves, through advertising.  They have viewers.  Lots of them.  That’s how it works.
Air-Am:  What about the fairness doctrine?  That’s not fair! (stomps feet)
Gov:  Crybabies.  The fairness doctrine was written for people scared to have fairness in the media.  Go peddle your wares to Al Jazeer.
Air-Am:  Oh yeah?  Maybe we will!  Can I borrow your phone to make a long distance call?
Gov:  Ah– no.
Air-Am:  See?  Censorship again!  America sucks!
Gov:  Get out of my office.
Air-Am:  Can you buy me lunch first?
Gov:  Please leave.
Air-Am:  Why won’t anybody listen to us?  We are important!  We tell ourselves all the time!
Gov:  Bye.
Air-Am:  Can you give me a dollar?

Dirty Little Secrets

October 4, 2006 at 1:08 PM | Posted in Notes on Society | 1 Comment
  Christ, I feel dirty.  I watched "Boston Legal" last night.  I heard a conservative commentator talking about the show, telling how they promote a subversive liberal agenda.  I was leery about watching it, because I just really didn’t feel like being subverted, I want to be entertained.  And, while being subverted can often be entertaining, it is much more entertaining to be the one doing the subverting.
  Creating propaganda for fun and profit–
  But I watched, enthralled by the promise of a calvacade of stars filling my screen.  It caught my attention the way something shiny on the side of the road does. 
  And then I was hooked, and it turned out the something shiny on the road was actually a piece of metal flung from the roadside pile-up I was about to witness.  For fuck’s sake, whatever happened to subtley?  This show was as subtle as my cock in your face.  What happens when you get a bunch of has-beens on the same stage?  They ham for the camera like the Three Stooges.  Candice Bergen.  Candice, what happened to ya?  She shouldn’t be a has-been.  I know I’d still fuck her.  But she is doing a parody of herself on the show.
  And of course, the all-time self-parody award goes to:  William Shatner.  He has actually reined in his over-acting skills on this show.  Although, another character characterized his character as a buffoon, which seemed to me to be the pot calling the kettle African-American.  Bill has no shame, mugging for the camera and overacting his lines like a William Shatner impersonator.  In fact, it could well be Frank Caliendo.  I mean, the guy has swollen in size.
  Speaking of swollen in size, what the hell happened to James Spader.  I hope I’m not supposed to take this clown seriously.  Christ, he’s the White Knight of Over-Acting Buffoonery.  He acts like he’s trying to act like an asshole who’s trying not to be an asshole so he’s acting like he’s hiding it and not doing a very good job.  Of any of it, especially the acting.
  And the show has dug up so many characters from the past that it’s like a museum of B television history.  One guy was on Benson, then Deep Space nine, that Rene Aubour-who’s-it.  Another character was a Ferengi on Deep Space nine and then played the abrasive principal on Buffy the vampire Slayer.  Now he’s an abrasive judge.  Seems like they are trying to revive in our psyche memories of the past, to create a comfort-food television, where the main characters always have something to bicker about, where they remind you of others that you knew (Moonlighting, anyone?) and ressurrecting the actors you are familiar with to give you a warm, cozy feeling.
  Like Tom Selleck, playing ex to Candice Bergen.  Tom Selleck is comfort food for many women (and men), with the rugged good looks and boyish charm.  I’d do Tom.  And Tom Selleck’s new wife bears a striking resemblance in look and perkiness to a character from Murphy Brown.  A few other side characters are Katy Sagal, whom we all remember from that one show, plus as a voice from Futurama.
  Another side character, who knows what his name is, was another character on Benson, back in the 70s.  Then, some of the young guys, one is supposed to remind us of the bearded guy from Home Improvement, and the other guy is supposed to remind us of a Mel Gibson combined with . . .shit, some other vaguely familiar guy.  I should have written this last night, when the name was on the tip of my tongue.
  Of course there is the obligitory smattering of namelesshot chicks.  And then we add the sexual tension.
  Between Bill Shatner and any chick, like this cute dwarf lawyer that’s on there now.  Between James Spader and Candice Bergen.  Between Bill and Candice.  Between Bill and James Spader.  Next week, they are going to wrestle over Candice.  Hopefully, they’ll end up patty-caking Candice.
  (Okay, patty-caking is a sexual term, let me explain.  In case you are in the awkward situation of being a member of a three way, specifically, a boy-boy-girl three way, as a man you want to limit not only the contact but also the proximity you have with the other man’s penis.  Therefore, some sexual positions may be more desireable than others.  To patty-cake, the men are on their knees facing each other, and the woman is on her hands and knees placed strategically between them, choice heads or tails.  This maximizes the distance between the men, but they still will be very awkwardly facing each other.  Not alot to do there.  Your kneeling there, doing your thing, having an intimate moment with the lady, and you look up, and there is the other guy, having an intimate moment as well, with the same lady.  You want to be jealous, you want to be mad at the woman for allowing this to happen, but you don’t even know her name, and, in fact, it was only your charisma and powers of persuasion that convinced HIM to share HIS date with you, and for her to agree to it.  You and the other dude look at each other.
  (You: "Hey, what’s up?"
  (He:  "Not much.  How’s it going?"
  (You:  "Doin’ alright.  Doin’ fine."
  (He:  "Cool.  Well, catch you later."
  (You:  "Yeah, man, later."
  (But you don’t see each other later, you see each other RIGHT NOW, because you are still there, nailing this chick from your respective ends.  The chick has no idea that this awkward situation has occurred, because the guys never break stride.  Never.  But they need to stop looking at each other.  Either that, or–
  (You:  "Duder!"
  (He:  "Hold up, dude, I’m concentrating.  Okay, what up?"
  (You:  "Want to play ‘patty-cake’?"
  (He:  "Okay."
  (Together:  "Patty-cake, patty-cake, baker’s man, bake me a cake–"
  (Doing this as you slap hands together.  Purely a heterosexual undertaking.  Honest.)
  My point is this, that this show proves that the end of civilization is nigh.  I need to set my TiVo.

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