Have a happy Christmas eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve eve!
26.12.10
16.12.10
Yes, Soldiers Are People
This is a "The Whirling Dervish" piece originally published by Speakeasy September 27, 2006.
It was Saturday night when the call came. A friend was enjoying the weekend when that phone call came. Her cousin in Iraq was riding in a Humvee when it ran over a mine and exploded.
No one was sure what had happened to him, exactly; he might not live through it. Almost certainly, he would lose his legs. All anyone could do was wait for news, a special kind of hell for those of us on the home front.
Sunday was met with good news: He was alive and, while his legs sustained several fractures, amputation was not necessary. Even with the broken eye sockets, it was as close to the best case scenario one could ask for. Relief washed over like a gentle wave.
That is, until the next bit of news came in: that he would not be coming home. Not only was he staying in Iraq, he is only staying in the hospital for 10 days before being sent back out. A guy who signed up for the reserves because he wanted money for college, a guy who was blown up just days ago, a guy who should, must, needs to come home, is being dumped back on the field with injuries that will take to months to heal.
And that is saying nothing about the mental damage that he has sustained. He should have access to the best therapy, yet he will get nothing. We can only speculate as to the damage being done there. Of course, he has no desire to stay over there; who would? This is his second injury sustained in Iraq; he had been shot in the leg before.
With Secretary of State Donald Rumsfeld extending the tour of duty for 4,000 soldiers recently, it is obvious the Army is under incredible strain. Hard decisions have to be made for the military good.
But at some point, we’re not treating these people like humans anymore. They’re just cogs in the machine, used until they can’t be and thrown out. America does not have the best track record in dealing with veterans, but one has to wonder if someone decided the best solution is to limit the number of people that come back.
That is not a suggestion that the Pentagon is deliberately trying to kill off soldiers. However, it is a suggestion that the price is becoming too high when people can get blown up and they can’t be sent home or even given sufficient time to heal. With each passing week, the Bush Administration has more questions it needs to address about Iraq. Such treatment of the men and women that signed up to defend the country is decidedly un-American and being sent to die in a battle that seems more like a Roman war of expansion than a defensive operation.
It’s easy to point the blame at Rumsfeld and Bush on this, and undoubtedly many people will. However, that might be a part of the problem. Most Americans have buried their heads in the sand, complaining of news stories in the papers and on TV. They don’t want to see it; they don’t want to acknowledge it. They just want to blame the guy sitting in the Oval Office and his cronies and be done with it. They ignore the fact that their doublethink allows the people making the decisions to keep severely injured people in a combat environment. Say what you want about Cindy Sheehan, but she forced people to pay attention; forced the president to acknowledge her. That’s powerful. That’s responsible.
So why aren’t most of us doing it? Are we really that afraid to take responsibility for our actions? Sure, you walk around with that trendy “NOT my President” bumper sticker, but the actions of the military represent us, reflect us, whether or not you support it. During Vietnam, people reacted with outrage, but with Iraq, people simply aren’t reacting anymore. Until they do, more soldiers that should be coming home and being sent back out. And while they might not be killed with a bullet, they’re dying on the inside at the very least.
It was Saturday night when the call came. A friend was enjoying the weekend when that phone call came. Her cousin in Iraq was riding in a Humvee when it ran over a mine and exploded.
No one was sure what had happened to him, exactly; he might not live through it. Almost certainly, he would lose his legs. All anyone could do was wait for news, a special kind of hell for those of us on the home front.
Sunday was met with good news: He was alive and, while his legs sustained several fractures, amputation was not necessary. Even with the broken eye sockets, it was as close to the best case scenario one could ask for. Relief washed over like a gentle wave.
That is, until the next bit of news came in: that he would not be coming home. Not only was he staying in Iraq, he is only staying in the hospital for 10 days before being sent back out. A guy who signed up for the reserves because he wanted money for college, a guy who was blown up just days ago, a guy who should, must, needs to come home, is being dumped back on the field with injuries that will take to months to heal.
And that is saying nothing about the mental damage that he has sustained. He should have access to the best therapy, yet he will get nothing. We can only speculate as to the damage being done there. Of course, he has no desire to stay over there; who would? This is his second injury sustained in Iraq; he had been shot in the leg before.
With Secretary of State Donald Rumsfeld extending the tour of duty for 4,000 soldiers recently, it is obvious the Army is under incredible strain. Hard decisions have to be made for the military good.
But at some point, we’re not treating these people like humans anymore. They’re just cogs in the machine, used until they can’t be and thrown out. America does not have the best track record in dealing with veterans, but one has to wonder if someone decided the best solution is to limit the number of people that come back.
That is not a suggestion that the Pentagon is deliberately trying to kill off soldiers. However, it is a suggestion that the price is becoming too high when people can get blown up and they can’t be sent home or even given sufficient time to heal. With each passing week, the Bush Administration has more questions it needs to address about Iraq. Such treatment of the men and women that signed up to defend the country is decidedly un-American and being sent to die in a battle that seems more like a Roman war of expansion than a defensive operation.
It’s easy to point the blame at Rumsfeld and Bush on this, and undoubtedly many people will. However, that might be a part of the problem. Most Americans have buried their heads in the sand, complaining of news stories in the papers and on TV. They don’t want to see it; they don’t want to acknowledge it. They just want to blame the guy sitting in the Oval Office and his cronies and be done with it. They ignore the fact that their doublethink allows the people making the decisions to keep severely injured people in a combat environment. Say what you want about Cindy Sheehan, but she forced people to pay attention; forced the president to acknowledge her. That’s powerful. That’s responsible.
So why aren’t most of us doing it? Are we really that afraid to take responsibility for our actions? Sure, you walk around with that trendy “NOT my President” bumper sticker, but the actions of the military represent us, reflect us, whether or not you support it. During Vietnam, people reacted with outrage, but with Iraq, people simply aren’t reacting anymore. Until they do, more soldiers that should be coming home and being sent back out. And while they might not be killed with a bullet, they’re dying on the inside at the very least.
15.12.10
AMPlify Your Apathy
This is a "The Whirling Dervish" piece originally published by Speakeasy May 17, 2006.
For the first time in recent memory, chalkboards and bulletin boards across campus are free from a barrage of advertisements for Student Senate elections. This is a welcome change from the constant harassment and annoyance of years past, when students could rarely pass a day without being accosted by a group of people in T-shirts representing some party.
There is only one registered party this year, Amp. It’s appropriate, because Amp consists of the same people that win the elections every year. This time around, no one is bothering to run against them. Maybe it is because this group always wins and other people don’t feel like losing. Then again, maybe it’s because nobody else sees Student Senate worth it.
If Amp is running unopposed, why are they still trying to give us newspapers telling us to vote for them? After all, the only people voting are the people running and their friends. There aren’t going to be enough people writing Leon Williams in as president to threaten Morgan Allen. If there is no competition, why the T-shirts? Is it because they want to feel cool wearing them?
Student Senate has long claimed to represent the student voice. But why should OU students look to their senator to be their “voice” when Roderick McDavis is an email away and when he makes himself available to the public weekly? Student senators would like to think they’re doing something important, and some of them are. Appropriating funds to student organizations is an important task. Aside from that, it’s all an exercise in hubris.
After all, it was only in 2003 when Katie Simpson was removed from her position as vice president in the face of student protest, simply because she was in the rival party. So do these people represent “our” voice or their own?
By the way, the president gets free tuition for the year. There’s no way to justify that, especially when student trustees get no such benefit.
So let them have their little election and lord over Student Senate the way the kids who were really excited about Model UN in high school did. In a week, everyone will just go back to ignoring them again.
Redemption for Han Solo
From the “long overdue” department, Lucasfilm and Twentieth Century Fox announced the first three “Star Wars” movies are coming to DVD in their original theatrical form. That means no special edition, no Hayden Christensen at the end or “Return of the Jedi,” the original Ewok celebration song and that Han, not Greedo, shoots first. Non-geeks probably don’t realize the significance of this, but for those of us that grew up in a galaxy far, far away, this is the best news that we ever could have gotten. Fans have long complained about George Lucas’ constant tinkering of the movies and the changes made in the special editions of the original trilogy. It will be not at all surprising to see sales of this DVDs surpass sales of the special edition DVDs, even if Lucas is pulling a Disney and selling the movies for a limited time.
Is it too much to hope for a public apology and retraction of “Revenge of the Sith” to come in the near future as well?
It’s like they don’t have a Father’s Day or something
Last year for Mother’s Day, the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim (say that five times fast) gave away tote bags to women 18 and older. Baseball teams have long used promotions like this as a way to lure people into the ballpark to spend $4 on a hot dog, so this is far from unusual. However, someone feels this is discrimination and is suing the Angels for age and sex discrimination. Well, it’s about time men started to fight back against the injustices levied against them by society. We’re not going to take this lying down. If wives and mothers are going to be dragged to the ballpark on the one holiday devoted to them, they’d better not get treated nicely or anything. That’s just wrong. Thankfully, the Angels have come to their senses and offered bags to the first 25,000 adults of both sexes. Then again, the kids still aren’t getting anything. Looks like another lawsuit is in order.
Postscript: My feelings about Student Senate's ineptness are still intact. The best part was when a computer security flaw resulted in Social Security numbers going public. In 2003, the same year they were busy playing politics, a Senator exposed the very security flaw. Instead of doing anything about it, he was kicked out of Senate and suspended from the university.
For the first time in recent memory, chalkboards and bulletin boards across campus are free from a barrage of advertisements for Student Senate elections. This is a welcome change from the constant harassment and annoyance of years past, when students could rarely pass a day without being accosted by a group of people in T-shirts representing some party.
There is only one registered party this year, Amp. It’s appropriate, because Amp consists of the same people that win the elections every year. This time around, no one is bothering to run against them. Maybe it is because this group always wins and other people don’t feel like losing. Then again, maybe it’s because nobody else sees Student Senate worth it.
If Amp is running unopposed, why are they still trying to give us newspapers telling us to vote for them? After all, the only people voting are the people running and their friends. There aren’t going to be enough people writing Leon Williams in as president to threaten Morgan Allen. If there is no competition, why the T-shirts? Is it because they want to feel cool wearing them?
Student Senate has long claimed to represent the student voice. But why should OU students look to their senator to be their “voice” when Roderick McDavis is an email away and when he makes himself available to the public weekly? Student senators would like to think they’re doing something important, and some of them are. Appropriating funds to student organizations is an important task. Aside from that, it’s all an exercise in hubris.
After all, it was only in 2003 when Katie Simpson was removed from her position as vice president in the face of student protest, simply because she was in the rival party. So do these people represent “our” voice or their own?
By the way, the president gets free tuition for the year. There’s no way to justify that, especially when student trustees get no such benefit.
So let them have their little election and lord over Student Senate the way the kids who were really excited about Model UN in high school did. In a week, everyone will just go back to ignoring them again.
Redemption for Han Solo
From the “long overdue” department, Lucasfilm and Twentieth Century Fox announced the first three “Star Wars” movies are coming to DVD in their original theatrical form. That means no special edition, no Hayden Christensen at the end or “Return of the Jedi,” the original Ewok celebration song and that Han, not Greedo, shoots first. Non-geeks probably don’t realize the significance of this, but for those of us that grew up in a galaxy far, far away, this is the best news that we ever could have gotten. Fans have long complained about George Lucas’ constant tinkering of the movies and the changes made in the special editions of the original trilogy. It will be not at all surprising to see sales of this DVDs surpass sales of the special edition DVDs, even if Lucas is pulling a Disney and selling the movies for a limited time.
Is it too much to hope for a public apology and retraction of “Revenge of the Sith” to come in the near future as well?
It’s like they don’t have a Father’s Day or something
Last year for Mother’s Day, the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim (say that five times fast) gave away tote bags to women 18 and older. Baseball teams have long used promotions like this as a way to lure people into the ballpark to spend $4 on a hot dog, so this is far from unusual. However, someone feels this is discrimination and is suing the Angels for age and sex discrimination. Well, it’s about time men started to fight back against the injustices levied against them by society. We’re not going to take this lying down. If wives and mothers are going to be dragged to the ballpark on the one holiday devoted to them, they’d better not get treated nicely or anything. That’s just wrong. Thankfully, the Angels have come to their senses and offered bags to the first 25,000 adults of both sexes. Then again, the kids still aren’t getting anything. Looks like another lawsuit is in order.
Postscript: My feelings about Student Senate's ineptness are still intact. The best part was when a computer security flaw resulted in Social Security numbers going public. In 2003, the same year they were busy playing politics, a Senator exposed the very security flaw. Instead of doing anything about it, he was kicked out of Senate and suspended from the university.
14.12.10
Still a Long Road to Equality
This is a "The Whirling Dervish" piece that was originally published by Speakeasy on February 9, 2006. This is one of the more significant pieces I wrote. Apparently, my take was a bit controversial, as I attracted the ire of the OU Democrats. Page counts for this piece was double what it normally was to that point and continued to climb after that. More below.
It’s been just over a week since the death of Coretta Scott King, and it’s still leaving its mark on the nation. Unfortunately, the echo of her funeral will ultimately be an ugly one. Civil rights leaders decided her funeral was the best time to blast Bush for policy decisions instead of sticking to the matter at hand, which ostensibly was honoring the life of Mrs. King.
Once, there were sacred places and occasions that transcended politics. Funerals, churches, sporting events were places people were expected to check their grudges at the door. Now all bets are off. Bringing in candidates to give stump speeches at Sunday congregations? Sure. Protest the Iraq war at a funeral? Hey, go for it.
It takes a lot to make President Bush look like the dignified one, but the Rev. Joseph Lowery and others managed to pull it off. If you want to make your statements, do it outside. The media weren’t going anywhere. Such petty tactics cheapens the occasion. Would Coretta or Martin Luther have stooped to such a level? No, so why decide not to follow their example?
Of course, we’re not walking on a yellow brick road to racial equality and harmony. Some people have decided to celebrate Black History Month by setting fire to nine Alabama churches, four of which serving black congregations. The KKK would be so proud.
King’s death and funeral has led me to wonder if there are any prominent black leaders that are able and ready to assume the lead of the still-going civil rights struggle. What’s telling is that while the racial gap has lessened 40 years later, the struggle is still yawning. The logical choice would be Illinois Sen. Barack Obama, a young, charismatic man who could very well make a run at the White House sometime within the next 20 years.
What is coming out of the White House right now, however, will do little to bridge that gap. The budget proposal Bush submitted to Congress this week is bound to go over very poorly. What strikes me is the bill passed by a thin margin (216-214). Thirteen Republicans, including local Bob Ney, voted against the budget, which includes significant cuts in Medicaid and Medicare funding, along with the usual cuts to taxes for the wealthy, student loans and welfare. However, there is a strong chance the House will not pass this budget. Let’s pray it does not.
So, I just noticed I predicted Obama running for president. Cool. Anyway, OU Dems Mark Gaffney posted a comment attempting to blast me. However, he lacked the ability to actually do so, instead coming up with fallacious points like this one: "The media critics, not the invited guests of the memorial, are responsible for politicizing Mrs. King’s funeral. Any assertion to the contrary only further illustrates this truth." Remember, anyone who disagrees is wrong. This was right after he accused me of presuming only my opinion was right.
It’s been just over a week since the death of Coretta Scott King, and it’s still leaving its mark on the nation. Unfortunately, the echo of her funeral will ultimately be an ugly one. Civil rights leaders decided her funeral was the best time to blast Bush for policy decisions instead of sticking to the matter at hand, which ostensibly was honoring the life of Mrs. King.
Once, there were sacred places and occasions that transcended politics. Funerals, churches, sporting events were places people were expected to check their grudges at the door. Now all bets are off. Bringing in candidates to give stump speeches at Sunday congregations? Sure. Protest the Iraq war at a funeral? Hey, go for it.
It takes a lot to make President Bush look like the dignified one, but the Rev. Joseph Lowery and others managed to pull it off. If you want to make your statements, do it outside. The media weren’t going anywhere. Such petty tactics cheapens the occasion. Would Coretta or Martin Luther have stooped to such a level? No, so why decide not to follow their example?
Of course, we’re not walking on a yellow brick road to racial equality and harmony. Some people have decided to celebrate Black History Month by setting fire to nine Alabama churches, four of which serving black congregations. The KKK would be so proud.
King’s death and funeral has led me to wonder if there are any prominent black leaders that are able and ready to assume the lead of the still-going civil rights struggle. What’s telling is that while the racial gap has lessened 40 years later, the struggle is still yawning. The logical choice would be Illinois Sen. Barack Obama, a young, charismatic man who could very well make a run at the White House sometime within the next 20 years.
What is coming out of the White House right now, however, will do little to bridge that gap. The budget proposal Bush submitted to Congress this week is bound to go over very poorly. What strikes me is the bill passed by a thin margin (216-214). Thirteen Republicans, including local Bob Ney, voted against the budget, which includes significant cuts in Medicaid and Medicare funding, along with the usual cuts to taxes for the wealthy, student loans and welfare. However, there is a strong chance the House will not pass this budget. Let’s pray it does not.
So, I just noticed I predicted Obama running for president. Cool. Anyway, OU Dems Mark Gaffney posted a comment attempting to blast me. However, he lacked the ability to actually do so, instead coming up with fallacious points like this one: "The media critics, not the invited guests of the memorial, are responsible for politicizing Mrs. King’s funeral. Any assertion to the contrary only further illustrates this truth." Remember, anyone who disagrees is wrong. This was right after he accused me of presuming only my opinion was right.
13.12.10
Say it Ain't So, Rocky
This is a "The Whirling Dervish" piece originally published by Speakeasy October 27, 2005. I only offer this because I predicted the fourth "Rambo" movie.
There are good ideas, like having Quentin Tarantino as a guest director during the filming of “Sin City.” There are bad ideas, such as casting George Clooney as Batman. And then there’s the idea to make a sixth “Rocky” movie.
While Hollywood is a place where mystifying decisions are made all the time, this one is one of the most stupefying. When this was announced, was there honestly anyone that thought they couldn’t wait for this? Or did everyone react with an appropriate mix of dread and skepticism at the prospect of seeing a 60-year-old Stallone in the ring? Is anyone else hoping that he won’t be killed?
What’s more, his wife, Adrian, will be dead. Well, there goes half the dialogue. What is he supposed to half-coherently mumble about now? There really isn’t a good way to look at this. And how can there be a sixth “Rocky” when everyone agreed that “Rocky V” should havenever happened?
This has the potential to kill the previous “Rocky” movies. Kids who have never seen the other movies before might see this one first, and they’ll never want to see another one again. And that’s a shame, because the first three movies in the franchise are great to watch. It’s hard not to get inspired by Balboa’s determination. It’s hard not to watch “Rocky III” and think “Wow, that Mr. T. was one tough dude. This is even better than those 1-800-COLLECT begin_of_the_skype_highlighting 1-800-COLLECT end_of_the_skype_highlighting commercials he did."
“Rocky” is one of those movies fathers show to their sons as they get older. But this almost seems like the joke in “Spaceballs” in which the movie critic reviewed “Rocky 5000.” Sly, it’s not too late. Just make the fourth Rambo movie- also a bad, bad idea- and spare us. Nobody watched “The Contender.” Nobody wants to see a geriatric Rocky Balboa getting his brains beat in by Roy Jones Jr. And you just know Stallone is going to make Rocky win that match somehow. He won’t be able to resist. And that’s just ridiculous. Who would believe it? Evander Holyfield is a young buck at 43 by comparison and he’s staggered around the ring like he just ate the worm the last few years.
Record Hurricane Season
It’s somewhat surprising scientists aren’t using this insane hurricane season to twist the arms of people and make them admit global warning is real and a problem. Three massive hurricanes this year are no coincidence. The newest one, Wilma, was the most powerful ever in the Atlantic Ocean and further proof people shouldn’t give bad names to hurricanes.
After it battered central America, it has its way with Florida, with scientists predicting it won’t lose much strength over land. Well, isn’t that wonderful? I think Los Angeles is going to fall into the ocean next week the way we’re going.
There have been so many tropical storms in the Atlantic this year they’ve actually run out of names. They have now started to use Greek letters. Hurricane Alpha, the year’s 13th storm, set a new record. Hey, this is a problem! There are reasons hurricanes appear. Perhaps we should look at why and try to mitigate the causes.
Afghan Iraq?
Speaking of hiding one’s head in the sand, Condoleezza Rice said she wants the U.S. to follow the “Afghan model” in Iraq. This is a fantastic idea. Allowing local warlords to take control of various portions of the country, rampant drug trafficking, continuing to fight rebels in remote areas and having no reasonable way to leave in the foreseeable future is a winning plan everyone can get on board with.
While the recent earthquake in Kashmir is a tragedy by any stretch of the imagination, it’s possible some positive consequences could come of it. Pakistani President Pervez Musharraf said he is ready to open the Line of Control on the India border to allow as much aid as India is willing to send across the border, a move the Indians welcomed. If anything good can come of this, perhaps the two countries can finally start building a bridge over that wide chasm between them. Everyone there could use peace.
There are good ideas, like having Quentin Tarantino as a guest director during the filming of “Sin City.” There are bad ideas, such as casting George Clooney as Batman. And then there’s the idea to make a sixth “Rocky” movie.
While Hollywood is a place where mystifying decisions are made all the time, this one is one of the most stupefying. When this was announced, was there honestly anyone that thought they couldn’t wait for this? Or did everyone react with an appropriate mix of dread and skepticism at the prospect of seeing a 60-year-old Stallone in the ring? Is anyone else hoping that he won’t be killed?
What’s more, his wife, Adrian, will be dead. Well, there goes half the dialogue. What is he supposed to half-coherently mumble about now? There really isn’t a good way to look at this. And how can there be a sixth “Rocky” when everyone agreed that “Rocky V” should havenever happened?
This has the potential to kill the previous “Rocky” movies. Kids who have never seen the other movies before might see this one first, and they’ll never want to see another one again. And that’s a shame, because the first three movies in the franchise are great to watch. It’s hard not to get inspired by Balboa’s determination. It’s hard not to watch “Rocky III” and think “Wow, that Mr. T. was one tough dude. This is even better than those 1-800-COLLECT begin_of_the_skype_highlighting 1-800-COLLECT end_of_the_skype_highlighting commercials he did."
“Rocky” is one of those movies fathers show to their sons as they get older. But this almost seems like the joke in “Spaceballs” in which the movie critic reviewed “Rocky 5000.” Sly, it’s not too late. Just make the fourth Rambo movie- also a bad, bad idea- and spare us. Nobody watched “The Contender.” Nobody wants to see a geriatric Rocky Balboa getting his brains beat in by Roy Jones Jr. And you just know Stallone is going to make Rocky win that match somehow. He won’t be able to resist. And that’s just ridiculous. Who would believe it? Evander Holyfield is a young buck at 43 by comparison and he’s staggered around the ring like he just ate the worm the last few years.
Record Hurricane Season
It’s somewhat surprising scientists aren’t using this insane hurricane season to twist the arms of people and make them admit global warning is real and a problem. Three massive hurricanes this year are no coincidence. The newest one, Wilma, was the most powerful ever in the Atlantic Ocean and further proof people shouldn’t give bad names to hurricanes.
After it battered central America, it has its way with Florida, with scientists predicting it won’t lose much strength over land. Well, isn’t that wonderful? I think Los Angeles is going to fall into the ocean next week the way we’re going.
There have been so many tropical storms in the Atlantic this year they’ve actually run out of names. They have now started to use Greek letters. Hurricane Alpha, the year’s 13th storm, set a new record. Hey, this is a problem! There are reasons hurricanes appear. Perhaps we should look at why and try to mitigate the causes.
Afghan Iraq?
Speaking of hiding one’s head in the sand, Condoleezza Rice said she wants the U.S. to follow the “Afghan model” in Iraq. This is a fantastic idea. Allowing local warlords to take control of various portions of the country, rampant drug trafficking, continuing to fight rebels in remote areas and having no reasonable way to leave in the foreseeable future is a winning plan everyone can get on board with.
While the recent earthquake in Kashmir is a tragedy by any stretch of the imagination, it’s possible some positive consequences could come of it. Pakistani President Pervez Musharraf said he is ready to open the Line of Control on the India border to allow as much aid as India is willing to send across the border, a move the Indians welcomed. If anything good can come of this, perhaps the two countries can finally start building a bridge over that wide chasm between them. Everyone there could use peace.
12.12.10
If This Were a Movie, Nobody Would Believe It
This was a "The Whirling Dervish" piece originally published October 17, 2005. One thing I noticed: I really was against "Laguna Beach."
Southeast Asia found itself on the receiving end of yet another natural disaster last week as a 7.6 magnitude earthquake shook Kashmir. The death toll has climbed past 35,000 and as many as 40,000 Pakistanis may have been killed. The sick joke here is that this is a pittance when compared to last year’s tsunami; we may never know how many lives that disaster claimed.
Compounding the problem is the mountainous terrain of the area, making it hard for aid to arrive. Drinking water has become polluted, causing a Turkish newspaper to declare the area a “ Web of Disease.”
The troubling part is how many people are finding out about this for the first time right now.
A wildfire in California that burns 10 homes or so down grabs national headlines and keeps CNN relaying a live feed of smoke all day. It’s news. People talk about it. But how many times have I heard mention of the Asia quake? How often does someone bring this up in conversation? It hasn’t happened yet to me, and I like to think I run in circles with people that know what’s going on.
And it’s far from being a trend. It’s learned behavior at this point.
One of the first things a young, eager journalism student learns is what makes a story worthy of publishing. In other words, what is going to make people want to read it? One of these criteria is proximity. In other words, if you’re at a paper in Oregon, is anyone going to read about what might be big news in Delaware? It’s a good guide, otherwise, you might be reading about intramural championships at Arizona State on this Web site.
But I always thought there was a critical flaw in the principle. American newspapers pay little more than lip service to international news. An unwritten rule has been the more bodies, the bigger the headline. Take the California example: because it’s closer, three people dying might be enough to make the front page of national newspapers. But 2,000 people dying in Thailand might get little more than a mention on page 3 of the international section. I thought that these papers weren’t doing these events justice.
Of course, being a little older and a little wiser, I’ve realized why this is the case. Americans don’t care.
There’s no other reason to explain it. It’s easy for us to put the strife of faraway lands aside and we do. Why? It’s unpleasant. We don’t like to think about it. We usually live in a place that’s wealthy, safe, and free from devastating natural events. Katrina was the biggest news story of the year. But had a storm of that magnitude swept through some parts of the world, and only killed 2,000, people would have been on their knees in thanks.
It’s much easier for us to think about the vapid kids on “Laguna Beach,” isn’t it? Nobody really gets hurt. It’s a nice little escape. But pause for a moment and think about what a mother who lost her children in the quake would think if someone told her we’d rather hear about Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes’ engagement.
That can’t be it, can it? We care, right? After all, our nation did come together as one national consciousness when Katrina and Rita unleashed themselves on the Gulf coast. But why do we turn a blind eye to other places? Well, we don’t, do we? When terrorists blew up some trains in London, we cared. We cared when the Madrid bombing killed 50.
There’s a disconnect somewhere. It could be that we paid more attention because it was people killing people, not Mother Nature killing people. And while Katrina devastated a major city in a way I thought I would never see, we’re going to rebuild it. We have the money and the resources.
What about Pakistan? What money do they have? How are they going to rebuild? Many of the 2,500,000 that lost their homes will never get another. There is no such thing as rebuilding or recovery for them.
Shouldn’t we care? Do we have a deep, dark place inside we don’t like to talk about where we put the problems of these poor, distant people away so they don’t trouble us?
There’s an answer somewhere. But I think we’re afraid to find it.
Southeast Asia found itself on the receiving end of yet another natural disaster last week as a 7.6 magnitude earthquake shook Kashmir. The death toll has climbed past 35,000 and as many as 40,000 Pakistanis may have been killed. The sick joke here is that this is a pittance when compared to last year’s tsunami; we may never know how many lives that disaster claimed.
Compounding the problem is the mountainous terrain of the area, making it hard for aid to arrive. Drinking water has become polluted, causing a Turkish newspaper to declare the area a “ Web of Disease.”
The troubling part is how many people are finding out about this for the first time right now.
A wildfire in California that burns 10 homes or so down grabs national headlines and keeps CNN relaying a live feed of smoke all day. It’s news. People talk about it. But how many times have I heard mention of the Asia quake? How often does someone bring this up in conversation? It hasn’t happened yet to me, and I like to think I run in circles with people that know what’s going on.
And it’s far from being a trend. It’s learned behavior at this point.
One of the first things a young, eager journalism student learns is what makes a story worthy of publishing. In other words, what is going to make people want to read it? One of these criteria is proximity. In other words, if you’re at a paper in Oregon, is anyone going to read about what might be big news in Delaware? It’s a good guide, otherwise, you might be reading about intramural championships at Arizona State on this Web site.
But I always thought there was a critical flaw in the principle. American newspapers pay little more than lip service to international news. An unwritten rule has been the more bodies, the bigger the headline. Take the California example: because it’s closer, three people dying might be enough to make the front page of national newspapers. But 2,000 people dying in Thailand might get little more than a mention on page 3 of the international section. I thought that these papers weren’t doing these events justice.
Of course, being a little older and a little wiser, I’ve realized why this is the case. Americans don’t care.
There’s no other reason to explain it. It’s easy for us to put the strife of faraway lands aside and we do. Why? It’s unpleasant. We don’t like to think about it. We usually live in a place that’s wealthy, safe, and free from devastating natural events. Katrina was the biggest news story of the year. But had a storm of that magnitude swept through some parts of the world, and only killed 2,000, people would have been on their knees in thanks.
It’s much easier for us to think about the vapid kids on “Laguna Beach,” isn’t it? Nobody really gets hurt. It’s a nice little escape. But pause for a moment and think about what a mother who lost her children in the quake would think if someone told her we’d rather hear about Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes’ engagement.
That can’t be it, can it? We care, right? After all, our nation did come together as one national consciousness when Katrina and Rita unleashed themselves on the Gulf coast. But why do we turn a blind eye to other places? Well, we don’t, do we? When terrorists blew up some trains in London, we cared. We cared when the Madrid bombing killed 50.
There’s a disconnect somewhere. It could be that we paid more attention because it was people killing people, not Mother Nature killing people. And while Katrina devastated a major city in a way I thought I would never see, we’re going to rebuild it. We have the money and the resources.
What about Pakistan? What money do they have? How are they going to rebuild? Many of the 2,500,000 that lost their homes will never get another. There is no such thing as rebuilding or recovery for them.
Shouldn’t we care? Do we have a deep, dark place inside we don’t like to talk about where we put the problems of these poor, distant people away so they don’t trouble us?
There’s an answer somewhere. But I think we’re afraid to find it.
11.12.10
Get the Facts Straight
This was a "The Whirling Dervish" piece originally published by Speakeasy on October 10, 2005.
Any column/blog/whatever – nay, any new school year – should start off the right way: making fun of Miami. And lo and behold, it’s easier than ever.
Last week, ESPN graced Oxford for the annual gridiron war between the Cincinnati Bearcats and the Miami Redski...er, RedHawks. The game promotes itself as the oldest rivalry “west of the Alleghenies.” That’s all well and good, but perhaps the school should take some time to teach its students where the Alleghenies are first.
Any student that has spent more than about 10 minutes on campus has probably taken at least one jab from Miami students and alumni in their sweater vests about how the school is a “public Ivy,” whatever that means, and just how wonderful the school is academically. At least the average Bobcat knows that Columbus is not home to a mountain range.
Perhaps some of these scholars came from western Pennsylvania. After all, how can one expect them to know their geography when they’re too busy letting boys play on girls teams? I think they’re really onto something. After all, I was little more than an average tennis player among other boys, but against girls, I think I could have made states. And I would have fist-pumped and taunted and smirked every inch of the way. I might have even held my racquet above my head victoriously like a war trophy. Of course, because the Ohio High School Athletic Association has common sense, my dream was never realized. The Man is always keeping me down like that.
I can’t wait for the first time some 6-foot-5-inch 250-pound man-child plasters some poor field hockey player and gives her a concussion. Not only would the lawsuit be completely justified, Oprah might actually explode. Then again, she survived Tom Cruise’s attempts to choke her, so we might need a plan “B.”
Of course, none of this is quite as unbelievable as the music industry. First, MTV has a new weapon in the war to make sure America’s youth has no independent spirit or brains. It’s bad enough they actually take the time to tape, edit, and produce a show taken from the lives of spoiled, out-of-touch kids in Orange County, Calif., who wouldn’t know what actual work was if it handed them a rent due notice. Now they’re using these people to record albums. You know a man is serious about his music when he grows his hair out like any decent rocker would...but he doesn’t want to do the “normal thing.” It’s good to get these things straight.
More troubling, however, is something that, no matter how many times one reads it, doesn’t seem real. One needs no proof that Satan exists than hearing the news that Ice-T is producing a David Hasselhoff rap album. But if it features a remix of the “Baywatch” theme, I might just have to buy it.
Any column/blog/whatever – nay, any new school year – should start off the right way: making fun of Miami. And lo and behold, it’s easier than ever.
Last week, ESPN graced Oxford for the annual gridiron war between the Cincinnati Bearcats and the Miami Redski...er, RedHawks. The game promotes itself as the oldest rivalry “west of the Alleghenies.” That’s all well and good, but perhaps the school should take some time to teach its students where the Alleghenies are first.
Any student that has spent more than about 10 minutes on campus has probably taken at least one jab from Miami students and alumni in their sweater vests about how the school is a “public Ivy,” whatever that means, and just how wonderful the school is academically. At least the average Bobcat knows that Columbus is not home to a mountain range.
Perhaps some of these scholars came from western Pennsylvania. After all, how can one expect them to know their geography when they’re too busy letting boys play on girls teams? I think they’re really onto something. After all, I was little more than an average tennis player among other boys, but against girls, I think I could have made states. And I would have fist-pumped and taunted and smirked every inch of the way. I might have even held my racquet above my head victoriously like a war trophy. Of course, because the Ohio High School Athletic Association has common sense, my dream was never realized. The Man is always keeping me down like that.
I can’t wait for the first time some 6-foot-5-inch 250-pound man-child plasters some poor field hockey player and gives her a concussion. Not only would the lawsuit be completely justified, Oprah might actually explode. Then again, she survived Tom Cruise’s attempts to choke her, so we might need a plan “B.”
Of course, none of this is quite as unbelievable as the music industry. First, MTV has a new weapon in the war to make sure America’s youth has no independent spirit or brains. It’s bad enough they actually take the time to tape, edit, and produce a show taken from the lives of spoiled, out-of-touch kids in Orange County, Calif., who wouldn’t know what actual work was if it handed them a rent due notice. Now they’re using these people to record albums. You know a man is serious about his music when he grows his hair out like any decent rocker would...but he doesn’t want to do the “normal thing.” It’s good to get these things straight.
More troubling, however, is something that, no matter how many times one reads it, doesn’t seem real. One needs no proof that Satan exists than hearing the news that Ice-T is producing a David Hasselhoff rap album. But if it features a remix of the “Baywatch” theme, I might just have to buy it.
10.12.10
Good, Clean. Messy Fun
This was a "The Whirling Dervish" piece, originally published April 26, 2005.
One of the great things about going home is digital cable. This isn’t to say that the HBO and movie channels in the dorms aren’t great, but the variety of the additional seven million extra channels (that’s an approximate total) can’t be beat.
And while Nickelodeon is so awful now it’s practically unwatchable, Generation Y has been thrown a couple digital bones. That’s right, The First Network for Kids has a channel dedicated exclusively to the great game shows of the ’90s. Called Nick GaS (Get it? Games and sports.), it has them all: Nick Arcade, Legends of the Hidden Temple, Figure it Out, GUTS, a show that featured Mike O’Malley when he still acted like he cared, and the king of them all, Double Dare.
For those who were unfortunate and never had the chance to watch it, here’s a rundown of a typical show:
There are two teams, the red team and the blue team. The show would start with the two teams facing off with some sort of competition. It could be any sort of competition, but it was always messy, such as breaking water balloons over a person’s head or dipping a sponge in some mush and trying to throw it through a hole.
When one team won the face-off, the two squads would then move to separate podiums. The winning team would be the first to get asked a question by host Marc Summers. The team could answer the question or “dare” the other team to answer it, doubling the point total. The other team has the same option, to answer or to “double dare” the original team to answer, tripling the original question’s point value. The team had one final choice to make. They could answer the question or take a physical challenge.
The physical challenges were part of what made Double Dare so great. There were major points at stake – if the team failed, the opposing team would get them, so slacking was not an option. Again, the challenges were a bit on the silly side, and the main object was to make as big a mess as possible, but it was a lot of fun to watch.
After two rounds of this, the team with the higher point total was declared the winner. The winning team then had the opportunity to tackle the obstacle course.
For anyone who remembers the show, the obstacle course was an awesome thing. The team had one minute to try and pass through eight obstacles. At the end of each, the player had to grab a flag and pass it to his/her teammate. Each completed obstacle came with a prize, including a grand prize at the end.
Some of the obstacles were easy and some were hard. But there was always one make-or-break obstacle in the middle that almost always determined whether or not the team would win. Found in the middle of the course, it was usually something like a giant peanut butter and jelly sandwich that the flag was hidden in. If the flag was found quickly, the team was in good shape. But more often than not, the contestant flailed helplessly through the mess, unable to find the small orange flag.
It was all very simple, but it worked perfectly. The formula was tinkered with, as there was a family version later on and a “Super Sloppy” edition as well, but the basics remained the same. It is a highly recommended watch even today, but not the lame Double Dare 2000.
In fact, the question must be asked: Why aren’t there shows like this today? When it was on, all kids wanted to be on Double Dare. It looked like so much fun. Who watches Fear Factor and says, “You know, I could really go for some bull testicle?” Why does the emphasis have to be on humiliation and not plain fun? And aside from classics like The Price is Right, it’s not seen anymore on television.
Another relic of the show is the hosts themselves. Summers was the perfect choice to host it, even if you can see the obsessive-compulsive disorder he suffered from twist his face into agony at times. The announcer, Harvey, was a very blue-collar man – bald and bearded with big glasses and unimpressive blue jeans. He wasn’t the sassy, sexy announcer a new game show would feature today. Instead he was genuine and warm. He was appreciated. Aside from her looks, who appreciated Brooke Burns on Dog Eat Dog?
Perhaps on a higher level, the comparison can be made to all television today. We are force fed “edgy” programming with a dearth of quality, instead of silly, simple, fun things everyone can appreciate and enjoy. Maybe all those digital cable channels are a blessing after all. They provide an escape route from network programming to things actually worth watching.
One of the great things about going home is digital cable. This isn’t to say that the HBO and movie channels in the dorms aren’t great, but the variety of the additional seven million extra channels (that’s an approximate total) can’t be beat.
And while Nickelodeon is so awful now it’s practically unwatchable, Generation Y has been thrown a couple digital bones. That’s right, The First Network for Kids has a channel dedicated exclusively to the great game shows of the ’90s. Called Nick GaS (Get it? Games and sports.), it has them all: Nick Arcade, Legends of the Hidden Temple, Figure it Out, GUTS, a show that featured Mike O’Malley when he still acted like he cared, and the king of them all, Double Dare.
For those who were unfortunate and never had the chance to watch it, here’s a rundown of a typical show:
There are two teams, the red team and the blue team. The show would start with the two teams facing off with some sort of competition. It could be any sort of competition, but it was always messy, such as breaking water balloons over a person’s head or dipping a sponge in some mush and trying to throw it through a hole.
When one team won the face-off, the two squads would then move to separate podiums. The winning team would be the first to get asked a question by host Marc Summers. The team could answer the question or “dare” the other team to answer it, doubling the point total. The other team has the same option, to answer or to “double dare” the original team to answer, tripling the original question’s point value. The team had one final choice to make. They could answer the question or take a physical challenge.
The physical challenges were part of what made Double Dare so great. There were major points at stake – if the team failed, the opposing team would get them, so slacking was not an option. Again, the challenges were a bit on the silly side, and the main object was to make as big a mess as possible, but it was a lot of fun to watch.
After two rounds of this, the team with the higher point total was declared the winner. The winning team then had the opportunity to tackle the obstacle course.
For anyone who remembers the show, the obstacle course was an awesome thing. The team had one minute to try and pass through eight obstacles. At the end of each, the player had to grab a flag and pass it to his/her teammate. Each completed obstacle came with a prize, including a grand prize at the end.
Some of the obstacles were easy and some were hard. But there was always one make-or-break obstacle in the middle that almost always determined whether or not the team would win. Found in the middle of the course, it was usually something like a giant peanut butter and jelly sandwich that the flag was hidden in. If the flag was found quickly, the team was in good shape. But more often than not, the contestant flailed helplessly through the mess, unable to find the small orange flag.
It was all very simple, but it worked perfectly. The formula was tinkered with, as there was a family version later on and a “Super Sloppy” edition as well, but the basics remained the same. It is a highly recommended watch even today, but not the lame Double Dare 2000.
In fact, the question must be asked: Why aren’t there shows like this today? When it was on, all kids wanted to be on Double Dare. It looked like so much fun. Who watches Fear Factor and says, “You know, I could really go for some bull testicle?” Why does the emphasis have to be on humiliation and not plain fun? And aside from classics like The Price is Right, it’s not seen anymore on television.
Another relic of the show is the hosts themselves. Summers was the perfect choice to host it, even if you can see the obsessive-compulsive disorder he suffered from twist his face into agony at times. The announcer, Harvey, was a very blue-collar man – bald and bearded with big glasses and unimpressive blue jeans. He wasn’t the sassy, sexy announcer a new game show would feature today. Instead he was genuine and warm. He was appreciated. Aside from her looks, who appreciated Brooke Burns on Dog Eat Dog?
Perhaps on a higher level, the comparison can be made to all television today. We are force fed “edgy” programming with a dearth of quality, instead of silly, simple, fun things everyone can appreciate and enjoy. Maybe all those digital cable channels are a blessing after all. They provide an escape route from network programming to things actually worth watching.
9.12.10
To Memphis or to Hell
As some of you may know, I used to write a column for Speakeasy Magazine entitled "The Whirling Dervish." This came after my messy divorce with The Post. Because Speakeasy is terribly managed, all my pieces are no longer on the site. But a trip to the Internet Wayback Machine was fruitful, so I'll repost some of my better pieces. I think my writing has improved since then. Of course, I'm my own harshest critic. Maybe I still suck. I got the idea after reading Joe Posnanski's account of his Pittsburgh-to-New York odyssey. This was the introductory "Dervish," published April 19, 2005.
Few things top going on a road trip with friends. Whether planned or spontaneous, throwing some clothes in the car and hitting the asphalt can turn into a weekend that will be remembered forever.
And boy, last Friday is not going to fade from my mind anytime soon.
I went with fellow Sigma Theta Epsilon brothers Andrew and Isaac to the annual business meeting in Memphis. The three of us spent Friday in Isaac’s car driving from Athens to Memphis. The following is an approximate timeline (in Eastern daylight time) of events that unfolded as we made our way to Elvis’ hometown.
12:30 p.m.- Scheduled time to leave Athens.
1:30 p.m.- Actual time we left Athens. Mapquest claims it’s a 10 and a half hour drive, so we’ll see. On another note, has anyone left for a trip on time? Ever? I don’t think it’s possible. It’s almost a requirement for any trip in which state lines are crossed. Maybe we should just schedule earlier so that we’re actually on time when we leave late.
4:15 p.m.- What the? Why? Kentucky has a new sign, claiming the state has “Unbridled Spirit.” That’s all fine and good, but when crossing the Ohio, I fully expected to see the declaration that Kentucky is the “state where education pays.” That’s probably the unintentionally funniest sign ever. Why make that change? Perhaps it was taken down the same time the decision was made to put a smiling sun on the license plates.
4:30 p.m. - Now that the education sign is gone, the sign for Big Bone Lick State Park takes the top spot for laughs. Yes, I’m older than 12, I promise.
8:00 p.m. - Now that we’re in Tennessee and within striking distance of Nashville, a full 75 percent of the radio stations are country music. Blunt head trauma seems like a good idea at this time.
9:00 p.m. - Aside from the city of Jackson, I-40 between Nashville and Memphis is completely separated from civilization. Sometimes, it’s 10 miles between exits and it’s just trees on both sides of you. And of course, we blow a tire.
9:35 p.m. - The bolts on the offending wheel don’t want to loosen. In fact, while trying to loosen one, Andrew instead succeeds in snapping it clean off instead. Uh oh. We’re not going to be able to do this. Should we call AAA? Andrew is a member, but he doesn’t have his card…
10:20 p.m. - Yeah, we’re going to call them. ETA for a mechanic: one hour. I’m glad I brought my Game Boy Advance with backlit screen.
11:30 p.m. - That mechanic just changed the tire in about three minutes. I’d like to turn in my Man Membership card, please.
11:45 p.m. - I think Loretta Lynn could run for governor of Tennessee and win. We keep passing Loretta Lynn this and Loretta Lynn that. In fact, there goes Loretta Lynn’s Kitchen. It looks huge.
1:45 a.m.- We’re now about 50 miles from Memphis. Boy, that sounds familiar…
1:46 a.m. - … yep, blew another tire. We’re screwed now. AAA advises us to call a tire store, but the 24-hour tire outlet hasn’t been invented yet.
2:00 a.m. - After a rodeo of several calls to AAA and several other places, here’s the problem we’re presented with: blown tire with no tire to replace it with. No tire place around to buy a tire around. Must call a tow truck. The tow truck, however, has only room for two people in the cab, and staying inside the car being towed is not allowed. The only option is to call for a taxi.
2:05 a.m. - Said taxi just quoted us a price of $135. You know, if we walk, we might make it there by Monday. Having no real choice, we hire the taxi. And being 50 miles from Memphis, it’ll take an hour for the tow truck and taxi to get to us. Time to break out the playing cards!
2:10 a.m. - In rummy, you have to have the cards in a straight be the same suit, right?
3:10 a.m. - That tow truck should’ve been here by now. Meanwhile, I’ve won three consecutive hands of blackjack. Things are looking up.
3:30 a.m. - OK, the taxi is here. Still no sight of the tow truck. The cab driver is nice enough to say he’ll wait for a while.
3:35 a.m. - Should I be concerned the driver just fell asleep?
4:00 a.m. - We talk to the taxi driver a bit. We find out that he’s been living in Memphis for several years after moving there from Senegal. Yeah, I know I’d want to move to Memphis of all places if I was coming from Africa.
4:30 a.m. - Oh look, it’s the tow truck. What happened? He was sent to get us on I-54. The only flaw in that plan was that we’re on I-40 at mile 54.
4:35 a.m. - The truck driver and the cab driver get chummy. No hurry, guys. Isaac gives us the uplifting news that contrary to what AAA told us, the truck has four seats for passengers. At this point I remember I haven’t eaten in 12 hours.
4:45 a.m. - We’re finally off to…somewhere. After the bit about being told about the truck having four seats, I curled into a ball and shut the rest of the world off.
5:45 a.m. - Hey, where’s the tow truck? Let’s wait for it.
6:20 a.m. - There it is. How something could fall that far behind, I have no idea.
6:40 a.m. - The truck has dropped Isaac’s car off at Wal-Mart, where the tire center will be opening soon. Isaac told the taxi driver to let him off at the main entrance, but apparently didn’t say it loud enough because the driver nearly got on the highway before we got his attention to let Isaac off.
7:15 a.m. - We finally make it to the luxurious Clarion Hotel, a sister chain of Comfort Inn. On the plus side, the continental breakfast is being served. On the negative side, they don’t have any record of Andrew in the computer, which means he doesn’t have a room. And why would they, after a night like this?
7:30 a.m. - The only reasonable thing I can think to do is to eat a lot of breakfast. Did I mention the meeting starts in two hours?
After eating, showering (after a night like that, you really need a nice, hot shower) and trying to figure out how to get a room for Andrew - we find out later Isaac has the same problem - I get about 10 minutes of sleep before the meeting starts. At least some of the other brothers tell us that’s the best travel story they’ve heard in years. Well, that’s something, isn’t it?
Ever try to sit in an all-day business meeting when you’re on virtually no sleep? Try it sometime. Barrels of joy. Isaac didn’t get his car taken care of until noon. And by that time, we were concerned he was lost somewhere in Memphis, or maybe even in Mississippi without realizing it.
But the new tires were fine, and we had no problems on the drive back to Athens. It was a banner trip, if there ever was one.
Few things top going on a road trip with friends. Whether planned or spontaneous, throwing some clothes in the car and hitting the asphalt can turn into a weekend that will be remembered forever.
And boy, last Friday is not going to fade from my mind anytime soon.
I went with fellow Sigma Theta Epsilon brothers Andrew and Isaac to the annual business meeting in Memphis. The three of us spent Friday in Isaac’s car driving from Athens to Memphis. The following is an approximate timeline (in Eastern daylight time) of events that unfolded as we made our way to Elvis’ hometown.
12:30 p.m.- Scheduled time to leave Athens.
1:30 p.m.- Actual time we left Athens. Mapquest claims it’s a 10 and a half hour drive, so we’ll see. On another note, has anyone left for a trip on time? Ever? I don’t think it’s possible. It’s almost a requirement for any trip in which state lines are crossed. Maybe we should just schedule earlier so that we’re actually on time when we leave late.
4:15 p.m.- What the? Why? Kentucky has a new sign, claiming the state has “Unbridled Spirit.” That’s all fine and good, but when crossing the Ohio, I fully expected to see the declaration that Kentucky is the “state where education pays.” That’s probably the unintentionally funniest sign ever. Why make that change? Perhaps it was taken down the same time the decision was made to put a smiling sun on the license plates.
4:30 p.m. - Now that the education sign is gone, the sign for Big Bone Lick State Park takes the top spot for laughs. Yes, I’m older than 12, I promise.
8:00 p.m. - Now that we’re in Tennessee and within striking distance of Nashville, a full 75 percent of the radio stations are country music. Blunt head trauma seems like a good idea at this time.
9:00 p.m. - Aside from the city of Jackson, I-40 between Nashville and Memphis is completely separated from civilization. Sometimes, it’s 10 miles between exits and it’s just trees on both sides of you. And of course, we blow a tire.
9:35 p.m. - The bolts on the offending wheel don’t want to loosen. In fact, while trying to loosen one, Andrew instead succeeds in snapping it clean off instead. Uh oh. We’re not going to be able to do this. Should we call AAA? Andrew is a member, but he doesn’t have his card…
10:20 p.m. - Yeah, we’re going to call them. ETA for a mechanic: one hour. I’m glad I brought my Game Boy Advance with backlit screen.
11:30 p.m. - That mechanic just changed the tire in about three minutes. I’d like to turn in my Man Membership card, please.
11:45 p.m. - I think Loretta Lynn could run for governor of Tennessee and win. We keep passing Loretta Lynn this and Loretta Lynn that. In fact, there goes Loretta Lynn’s Kitchen. It looks huge.
1:45 a.m.- We’re now about 50 miles from Memphis. Boy, that sounds familiar…
1:46 a.m. - … yep, blew another tire. We’re screwed now. AAA advises us to call a tire store, but the 24-hour tire outlet hasn’t been invented yet.
2:00 a.m. - After a rodeo of several calls to AAA and several other places, here’s the problem we’re presented with: blown tire with no tire to replace it with. No tire place around to buy a tire around. Must call a tow truck. The tow truck, however, has only room for two people in the cab, and staying inside the car being towed is not allowed. The only option is to call for a taxi.
2:05 a.m. - Said taxi just quoted us a price of $135. You know, if we walk, we might make it there by Monday. Having no real choice, we hire the taxi. And being 50 miles from Memphis, it’ll take an hour for the tow truck and taxi to get to us. Time to break out the playing cards!
2:10 a.m. - In rummy, you have to have the cards in a straight be the same suit, right?
3:10 a.m. - That tow truck should’ve been here by now. Meanwhile, I’ve won three consecutive hands of blackjack. Things are looking up.
3:30 a.m. - OK, the taxi is here. Still no sight of the tow truck. The cab driver is nice enough to say he’ll wait for a while.
3:35 a.m. - Should I be concerned the driver just fell asleep?
4:00 a.m. - We talk to the taxi driver a bit. We find out that he’s been living in Memphis for several years after moving there from Senegal. Yeah, I know I’d want to move to Memphis of all places if I was coming from Africa.
4:30 a.m. - Oh look, it’s the tow truck. What happened? He was sent to get us on I-54. The only flaw in that plan was that we’re on I-40 at mile 54.
4:35 a.m. - The truck driver and the cab driver get chummy. No hurry, guys. Isaac gives us the uplifting news that contrary to what AAA told us, the truck has four seats for passengers. At this point I remember I haven’t eaten in 12 hours.
4:45 a.m. - We’re finally off to…somewhere. After the bit about being told about the truck having four seats, I curled into a ball and shut the rest of the world off.
5:45 a.m. - Hey, where’s the tow truck? Let’s wait for it.
6:20 a.m. - There it is. How something could fall that far behind, I have no idea.
6:40 a.m. - The truck has dropped Isaac’s car off at Wal-Mart, where the tire center will be opening soon. Isaac told the taxi driver to let him off at the main entrance, but apparently didn’t say it loud enough because the driver nearly got on the highway before we got his attention to let Isaac off.
7:15 a.m. - We finally make it to the luxurious Clarion Hotel, a sister chain of Comfort Inn. On the plus side, the continental breakfast is being served. On the negative side, they don’t have any record of Andrew in the computer, which means he doesn’t have a room. And why would they, after a night like this?
7:30 a.m. - The only reasonable thing I can think to do is to eat a lot of breakfast. Did I mention the meeting starts in two hours?
After eating, showering (after a night like that, you really need a nice, hot shower) and trying to figure out how to get a room for Andrew - we find out later Isaac has the same problem - I get about 10 minutes of sleep before the meeting starts. At least some of the other brothers tell us that’s the best travel story they’ve heard in years. Well, that’s something, isn’t it?
Ever try to sit in an all-day business meeting when you’re on virtually no sleep? Try it sometime. Barrels of joy. Isaac didn’t get his car taken care of until noon. And by that time, we were concerned he was lost somewhere in Memphis, or maybe even in Mississippi without realizing it.
But the new tires were fine, and we had no problems on the drive back to Athens. It was a banner trip, if there ever was one.
4.12.10
9.10.10
William Penn
It's a mid-Saturday afternoon with just about perfect weather (right around 80 degrees). Where am I? The library. I have assignments due and tasks to keep up. I'm doing my best to stay on top of these things1, and because I will be gone all day Sunday, today is Library Day.
Not that I'm happy about it. These chairs are really uncomfortable. My back aches. Chinese students nearby don't understand the concept of “library voice.2” While I am here because I focus is much better than at home, I can't help but lift my eyes from the screen and look around. A blue book two stacks away catches my eye: The Political Writings of William Penn3. Most people wouldn't think anything of this, but I have a connection of sorts to Penn. You see, the Fitzwaters came over to America in 1682 with Penn on the ship Welcome. Check it out. These are my direct ancestors. That makes us one of America's oldest European families, which is pretty cool. I think about how remarkable it is that my family knew a man4 who is important enough even today that books about him or collections of his writings sit on library shelves. The dude has a state named after him. There's no John Idaho, y'know? And the people that bear my name knew him, traveled to the New World with him. The Fitzwaters had a servant they brought with them. That's some serious money talking there. The Fitzwaters were people of some distinction.
Go back further in my genealogy and you'll find Sir Robert Fitzwalter (not a misspelling), a man important enough to sign the freaking Magna Carta and was a leader of a baronial opposition against King John5. We don't mess around. In England, the Fitzwaters were nobility, a family with a coat of arms back when it meant something to have them.
328 years later, I'm sitting in Alden Library. What happened?
____________________________________________________________
1 I got sick twice in the first three weeks of the quarter, and that really set me back when combined with an unexpected lethargy. I worked hard to get back on pace. I didn't enjoy it.
2 Mandarin is perhaps the most irritating language to listen to that humans speak. I hate it. What's a guy gotta do for a little Cantonese?
3 Nearby: Firm Heart and Capacious Mind: The Life and Friends of Etienne Dumont. If nothing else, a catchy title.
4 Even if they didn't know Penn before the trip, which seems unlikely, they certainly made acquaintances at some point during the two-month trip.
5 I was voted “Most Likely to Start a Revolution” in high school. It's in my blood!
20.9.10
The Flow
The cold wind blows
and swirls past her cheek
while she stares down the road.
Hands in her pockets
and lips pursed,
she awaits her phantom carraige.
The gray wall above her
does not blink
and she does not acknowledge.
Her cheeks would be stained
if not for a lack of caring.
But in this city of blue lights,
where are her angels?
and swirls past her cheek
while she stares down the road.
Hands in her pockets
and lips pursed,
she awaits her phantom carraige.
The gray wall above her
does not blink
and she does not acknowledge.
Her cheeks would be stained
if not for a lack of caring.
But in this city of blue lights,
where are her angels?
12.9.10
Investagatory Journalism
Back in the spring, my roommate's girlfriend told me a mutual acquaintance of ours said I am creepy. Now, I'm not one for caring much what others say about me, but "creepy" is not something I deal with. At the very least, I would like to know why said person finds me creepy. Luckily, I had an an entire summer to stew over it. I asked her about it last weekend. She said she meant I'm creepy in a good way, which: What? How in the world is that a good thing? She further illustrated: "I find spiders creepy, but they're awesome."
Not too much more helpful. It was a weird explanation that didn't make sense to me, and I figured she couldn't come up with a better lie immediately. Not the best end to the story, but whatever. I put it behind me. Then, the other night, a friend told me the real reason she finds me creepy is because I'm "always having girls over."
Huh?
So many things here.
- What are we, Puritans? I'm in my mid-20's. Is there something wrong with having guests of the opposite sex? If so, I missed that notice.
- The assumption that, when girls are here as my guest, we're doing anything remotely sexual is weird and, ironically, creepy.
- You know how many women I've had over here in the last year? Four. Four. If that somehow equates to "all the time," standards have been taken to an all-time low. Steve and I brain conferenced, and in the two and a half years he's lived with me, we came up with seven females I have had here as my guest. I just thought of another, so that's eight. Eight. In two and a half years. Not only am I not having women over "all the time," the exact opposite is true. Women are rarely darkening my doorstep.
11.9.10
Smile and Salute
Woe to the happy tribes
upon whom we reflect.
Children on a poster,
adults herded in conference.
We sell their noble spirit
and celebrate the beautiful dead.
upon whom we reflect.
Children on a poster,
adults herded in conference.
We sell their noble spirit
and celebrate the beautiful dead.
9.9.10
Organizing the Chaos of My Mind
Anybody who has had a 2-minute conversation with me knows my mind is a labyrinth of thought. I struggle as much as anyone else to make sense of what's going on up there. Things pop in and out without any real warning or purpose. I also love writing in this blog, but I'm not always in the right time or place to write about what's on my mind. Often, if I don't do it immediately, I'll forget.
At some point, I found that writing down what I later wanted to address here was a good way of putting my thoughts on layaway. Problem is, I'm really bad at not getting back to things I put off for another time. As a result, I have several Post-It notes with writing ideas scribbled on them. A few have been crossed out because I actually did write on the topic, but for the most part, it's a growing list. I feel like a hapless bureaucrat of myself, the inbox of work mounting with precious few making it to the outbox.
8.9.10
We're Going Backwards
While I love spring, it has always been a problem with me with allergies. I spend the first half of every day sneezing, sniffling, and wheezing for a good portion of the season. At this point, I've come to expect it and I accept it. I tough it out and stock up on Puffs Plus.
But for whatever reason, the allergies have come back in the Fall. I'm entirely unprepared for this. Last weekend was particularly miserable; my body thought it was sick so I was dry coughing. I really didn't enjoy that.
So whatever is causing this allergenic revival... stop.
5.9.10
1.9.10
The Slowly Creeping Insanity
I kind of hate Pixar. I didn't see “Toy Story 3” until a couple weeks ago. When going to the theatre, I certainly did not expect it to take a crowbar to my emotional Pandora's Box. Quick spoiler: When they were at the incinerator holding hands and bracing for the end, I was about to sob uncontrollably. I totally believed they were about to die and I could not understand how Pixar could do that to us.
Knowing the tear-misting effects the movie had, I steeled myself emotionally near the end. I didn't cry, mainly because I was so determined not to. But darn it if the movie would not win in the end.
Later that night, I was lying on the couch watching a DVD. For reasons that I still do not know, I thought back to May. She had come to visit for the weekend, and we were on that couch watching “The Princess Bride.” Eventually, we ended up cuddling. It was later in the night and she was tired, so she was drifting in and out of sleep. I wasn't tired at all, so I was just lying there, holding her, sometimes watching her. Occasionally, she would wake up and look back at me. Once or twice when she did that, she smiled. And it wasn't a smile of excitement. It was a smile of contentment, the kind of smile you have when things are as they should be.
We made plans for me to come up to her and take her to “Toy Story 3.” A few days before I was going to do that, she pulled away again. The reasons she gave were a rephrasing of things she's said before. So I was on my couch, thinking of both of these things, and a wave of sadness swept over me. I couldn't figure out why this was happening, which only made it worse.
Intellectually, I accept why she pushed me away again. But for whatever reason, I can't accept it emotionally. I have in the past, but it's been different this time, and I don't know why. I've tried to sort it out but failed. It's been really hard, because it keeps sneaking up on me and taking me to a place I don't want to go. I have not been able to shake this for some time now, and it's eating away at me. I understand now is not the time. I do. But there is that part of me that is so convinced we are right for each other and that we should be together, and it can't be reasoned with. It will not accept being apart from her. Every conversation with her only reinforces this belief. It nearly makes me sick.
I've long held the belief that we happen in cycles. We are apart and don't talk often for some time, then we start talking again, and we grow closer to each other. At some point, one of us bails, and the cycle begins anew. I've even told her my theory, and she didn't disagree. But with her and me living in the same city for the first time, that cycle is going to end. I just don't know what the result will be. I can't trust myself to be lucid enough to assess the situation accurately, so I don't know what's going on in her head or in her heart.
But I know what's in mine, and it aches for her. I know no other woman like her. I never felt another person was the matching piece of a jigsaw until I met her. I could never completely be myself, flawed as I am, with a woman like I can with her. We can talk for hours, all night, and I still don't want the conversation to end. She knows all my secrets, the ones I don't want to tell myself. I am convinced God wants for us to be together. And I know there's a decent chance she'll read this and know that this is about her. I just don't know what's to come.
I hope she knows that I would move mountains for her, that I am willing to do whatever it takes. I know the price and I want to pay it. And I hope this doesn't completely drive her away. But she knows me as well as I know her, so she knows I couldn't not write this.
30.8.10
We the People, In Order to Form a More Perfect Sports League
Being a sports fan is what used to define me. Heck, to many people, my sports fandom is still what defines me1. It's no coincidence; I love most sports, playing or watching. I used to memorize everything I could about the Indians. I've been known to disappear from society during Grand Slam events. I even cover basketball as a beat.
But in recent years, my enthusiasm has ebbed. There are a number of reasons for this. ESPN's dominance of everything sport has proven irksome, as has the obnoxiousness of fans in general. These are, however, minor annoyances I could probably deal with. What I find extremely off-putting is the antagonizing nature of the athletes and owners. Despite the facts these teams and leagues exist because of the fans, players, owners, and leagues treat fans like crap. Athletes regard fans with contempt, as wannabes that are jealous of their talent, fame, and fortune2. Owners and leagues look at fans as cash cows to be milked for everything they're worth. We lose at every turn.
But in recent years, my enthusiasm has ebbed. There are a number of reasons for this. ESPN's dominance of everything sport has proven irksome, as has the obnoxiousness of fans in general. These are, however, minor annoyances I could probably deal with. What I find extremely off-putting is the antagonizing nature of the athletes and owners. Despite the facts these teams and leagues exist because of the fans, players, owners, and leagues treat fans like crap. Athletes regard fans with contempt, as wannabes that are jealous of their talent, fame, and fortune2. Owners and leagues look at fans as cash cows to be milked for everything they're worth. We lose at every turn.
It's one thing to be subjected to MLB's ridiculous blackout rules or NFL season ticket holders being forced to but preseason tickets. Yeah, it's annoying and a little bit of a mugging, but most will gnash their teeth and deal with it. It's entirely another thing for leagues and owners to hold cities and taxpayers hostage in order to procure sweetheart deals that make the mega-rich even richer.
This is nothing new. New baseball stadia have been springing up all over America the last 15 years after every team rattled the pauper's cup. If a city hesitated, Bug Selig would swoop in and suggest a different city would be willing to foot the bill for a new palace the organization so clearly deserved. No matter if that team actually won, of course. They must have a new stadium, and when they get it, the wins will come with it. I need not cite anything that disproves that stupid argument; I need only to point in the general direction of Pittsburgh.
Then we come to the sad tale of the Seattle Sonics, and how the great fans there got totally abused by the ownership, David Stern, and eventually the city.
The straw that breaks the camel's back comes from Miami. I remember my trip there last year and seeing a number of people angry about the prospect of a new stadium for the Marlins. They didn't want what they characterized as a bailout for the team. I didn't know much about it, and most of the people that were against it were poor, so I thought that perhaps it was only the lower classes that were opposed to the idea.
Turns out they were on to something. Reports have come in detailing the way the Marlins management completely hoodwinked the city and county government, crying poor while pocketing deep profits and finagling a deal that will cost taxpayers $2.4 billion. Yeah. Billion. What makes this all the sadder is that this is only the latest episode in what has become a long-running series. Owners start to complain they're not making any money and that their venue is outdated. They threaten to leave the area, pitting local governments against fans that do not want to see their team leave3. They manage to procure a new building at little personal expense but get to keep the vast majority of the profits generated from it. This is the pattern. This is the playbook.
Do we see the problem with this? Because I do. We do not exist to pour money into the coffers of sports ownership. If they want to upgrade their facilities, they should do it themselves. If you want to make the argument that the city should chip in because it benefits from these teams, fine. But these men (not women) need to start paying their fair share, especially in these tough times.
Until they get a reality check, I'm done. These greedy people will get no more of my money. I will continue to support the ATP, as they have the crazy idea of financing themselves. But the NBA, MLB? Done. I'll go so far as to steal from them at every opportunity, just because they do it to us. We need to stand up and let them know they won't build a fortune off our tax money. I'll take a step forward. Consider coming with me.
_________________________________________________________________
1 This is something I embraced in the past. Now it's something I'm trying to shed.
2 They are right at least some of the time. The cutthroat nature of fandom these days does nothing to endear a player to anyone.
3 Why is it that so many of the people that happily agree to pay more in taxes to build new arenas rail against school levies and social programs?
20.8.10
Lifeline
Hold on to me
let me breathe
Hold on to me
make me believe
Don't let go of me
I need to be relieved
Stay firm with me
I know not
which me I see.
let me breathe
Hold on to me
make me believe
Don't let go of me
I need to be relieved
Stay firm with me
I know not
which me I see.
18.8.10
We Love Rankings
The newest U.S. News & World Report college rankings are out. We now have the most up-to-date way of calling alumni other schools illiterate morons.
The rankings are stupid. We know this1. They weight importance of things weirdly. Different schools exist for different reasons, specialize in different things, and serve different constituencies. You can't objectively rank Cal Poly against Bard College. You just can't. And rankings can't measure the ways a person can grow as a citizen of the world. I can go on and on giving reasons why this list holds no weight. I can get on board with comparing individual programs, but not entire schools.
At the same time...
Ohio University fell to 124th, down from 115 last year. It's still Tier I. But that is completely unacceptable. 124 is nothing to shake a stick at; there are thousands of schools in the US and 124 puts us squarely in the top 1%. Expand that to the 6 billion in the world and there's zero room to complain. Bobcats are truly among the world's intellectual elite.
However, we can and should do better. We have so much going for us and to see our gradual slide down the rankings2 is profoundly sad. The opportunities and surroundings OU and Athens provides are extraordinary, and there's no way 123 schools can top it. So what is causing our tumble down the educational ladder?
In a word, money. We're in a bad way. We have too many majors and too many administrators. We can't get rid of either because of a penis-size contest between the faculty3 and the administration/trustees4. There's no trust between either side, so they can't work together. We all suffer as a result.
Under Robert Glidden, we refurbished, acquired, and built too much and we have a lot of debt. We're caught up in the amenities arms race and have committed a ton of resources to attracting students with shiny bells and whistles5. Many of our dorms are crumbling and slated for a much-needed renovating. This all costs a lot of money.
In case you haven't noticed, very little of this has to do with actual education. All of these projects, combined with a sharp decline in revenue, have taken its toll. We can't pay faculty competitive salaries, so promising young professors move on. We've cut staff to the bone and beyond, so our landscape and buildings aren't maintained as well as they should be.
All this is in the face of the fact tuition is absurdly high and going up.
More than one person has suggested the problem is the trustees are treating the university as a business. It's possible, but it doesn't matter how the place is run as long as everyone has lost sight of why OU exists in the first place. That goes for the faculty, no matter how loudly they claim they have the educational mission of the university in mind. Right now, everyone is concerned about everything other than what is being taught. We need to take a step back and look at everything we're doing honestly. What are we doing? What do we need to do? What can we do without?
Ohio State has 38,479 students and about 160 majors. Miami has 14,671 students and about 100 majors. OU has 17,176 students and more than 250 majors. Do we see the logical detachment here?
There are wonderful things going on in Athens. OU is a leader in sustainability, and the school and the town has a great tradition of social awareness and activism. In learning things that can't necessarily be taught in the classroom, we're near the top of the nation. We need to climb back up the mountain in the classroom and on the ledger, too.
___________________________________________________________________
1 We know this, yet we still regard them as authoritative. It's insane.
2 We're below schools like LSU, Buffalo, Dayton, and Tennessee.
3 Faculty Senate has zero problem putting a scarlet letter on athletics but will not yield a single major or program, no matter how superfluous. Also, they either need to unionize or not. Stop talking about it and decide already.
4 The powers that be have fallen into the same trap many corporations fell prey to. They hired too many officers that do too little and are either unable or unwilling to look at themselves when trimming the fat. The Board of Trustees, meanwhile, has proven itself deaf to the needs and desires of the people they're supposed to be serving. Instead, they treat the OU community as a nuisance.
5 We spent $10.4 million on Shively Dining Hall! $10.4 million!
17.8.10
Not the Race, Not the Finish
Some fairly standard boilerplate here.
Yeah, it's nice to get a little affirmation every now and then, but this isn't anything I haven't seen before. Look, yes, us "nice guys" do tend to do those things, and yes, it would be nice for that to be recognized, appreciated, and acted upon.
But let's be honest here. Most "nice guys" find themselves in the friend zone because they don't have the balls to make a move and ask a girl out. There's a window. The guys who have a little courage are the ones that don't let it close. Most "nice guys" let the window close then complain about it. They don't try to re-open it, either.
In other words: The "nice guys" need to look in the mirror a little bit.
8.8.10
Equity
Who you see
and
who I am
are not
the same person.
But if I
were to show you
who I
really am
you wouldn't know
me.
and
who I am
are not
the same person.
But if I
were to show you
who I
really am
you wouldn't know
me.
4.8.10
3.8.10
The Man in the Mirror is Me
You've been there when you heard people complaining about a certain action. You take note of their distaste for this action. You know that it's wrong. You tell yourself that's not you. You won't do that.
But it's easy to make that promise outside of the situation. What do you do when, placed in that situation, you find yourself doing that very thing you promised yourself you would not do? That you're no better than the jerks others complained about?
But it's easy to make that promise outside of the situation. What do you do when, placed in that situation, you find yourself doing that very thing you promised yourself you would not do? That you're no better than the jerks others complained about?
2.8.10
A New Favorite Thing
Those who know me personally know how much I love my water bottle. I've often said that and my bed are two of my favorite three possessions. When asked what the third is, the common answer was, “I don't know.”
Well, now I know:
That's right, a pair of shoes1. But... these are no ordinary shoes. You can probably tell that by looking at them. The idea is that you feel and walk like you're barefoot without actually having to go barefoot. It's a more natural way to walk and run, and it's a lot healthier. Wearing it feels like a glove on your feet, which is pretty cool. Walking around, I can feel the ground beneath me. And I certainly don't feel restricted like I do when wearing traditional shoes. Not having to worry about blisters on my toes constantly is pretty nice.
Yeah, they look a little goofy, but that's because we're just not used to seeing them. In time, I think they'll look as natural as they feel2. And it's certainly a conversation piece. So yeah... I love them. And I think everyone should try them, provided you don't have special foot needs. They're a revelation.
___________________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________________
1 And I'm not even gay!
2 I can't tell you how fun it is to be able to wiggle your toes in shoes.
31.7.10
Things I Learned Today
Even after pushing me away once again, even though we haven't spoken in more than a month, when I see you... I still smile.
But I realized something. I'm completely disenfranchised in this saga; it's as though I'm watching someone put together a jigsaw puzzle but can't participate. It's not completely your fault. I let you do this. There's a way to change that, but it's not a price I'm willing to pay.
I'll stay the course. From this vantage point, it's still the best strategy. But I don't have to like it.
28.7.10
20.7.10
Haze
I've been stumbling
blind through here
unable to see
what I trip over
Then came a light
cutting through the fog
promising a way out
I trust the light
and I go
blind through here
unable to see
what I trip over
Then came a light
cutting through the fog
promising a way out
I trust the light
and I go
11.7.10
Pandora
Closed
have I been
unyielding
and unwelcoming
Then you came along
holding the key
I never knew existed
have I been
unyielding
and unwelcoming
Then you came along
holding the key
I never knew existed
3.7.10
Aware
Consider this
my suicide note
to who
I used to be.
He had to be killed
if I ever wanted
to live.
I don't know
to attend the burial
with regret
pity
or anger.
my suicide note
to who
I used to be.
He had to be killed
if I ever wanted
to live.
I don't know
to attend the burial
with regret
pity
or anger.
26.6.10
Need of the Real
Occasionally I like to play
human for a day
open my eyes to the world
allow my emotions unfurled
at the end I can see the pain
where my soul has a stain
of course they're stained too
because I always follow through
and I think I could learn
the humans freeze and they burn.
human for a day
open my eyes to the world
allow my emotions unfurled
at the end I can see the pain
where my soul has a stain
of course they're stained too
because I always follow through
and I think I could learn
the humans freeze and they burn.
18.6.10
Essential
To strip down
all that is extraneous
would leave
only you.
How wonderful
would that be
if we
could tear everything else
away?
all that is extraneous
would leave
only you.
How wonderful
would that be
if we
could tear everything else
away?
11.6.10
Out There
Sometimes
I let the sky
envelop me
and expand my mind
like a vast ocean
in which
everything exists
and there are
storms
and there is
calm.
I let the sky
envelop me
and expand my mind
like a vast ocean
in which
everything exists
and there are
storms
and there is
calm.
10.6.10
No Change to Believe In
I suppose things only looked like they were going to change.
I was excited when Susan Gwinn was unseated from the Athens Country Democratic Party Central Committee1, guaranteeing she would no longer chair the party. Naturally, a letdown followed. Establishment candidate, Athens City Council President, and Gwinn ally Bill Bias won the party chair by a 38-26 vote despite the efforts of a reform faction.
In the end, it will be more of the same. I can only hope that the reform wing of the party continues to gain momentum and can accrue enough members to affect real change2. Maybe I can just hope that guys like Alan Swank3 will have the balls to say whom he voted for after giving a speech in support of one of the candidates.
I don't know why I maintain my Democrat registration. I hate this party.
________________________________________________________
1 That's a long name.
2 I considered running for Central Committee, but my time in Athens is drawing to a close, and I would be going up against arguably the strongest member of the party in Lenny Eliason.
3 If anyone embodies the elitist, you-can't-be-happy-if-I'm-not-happy stereotype of Democrats, it's Swank. I do not like the guy. I think he's a hypocrite and a phony. Yes, I've told him as much. He was drunk at the time, though.
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About Me
- Monty
- I am who I think I am, I am who you know I am, I am who I want to be, who I was, who I could be, who I can't be. I am.
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