I was perusing the DrudgeReport today when I came across a story in which a professional agitator/activist working for the left wing organization, Moveon.org, went to a Rand Paul rally and attempted to agitate Paul by holding a mocking placard.(Paul is a conservative libertarian who is the son of libertarian demigod and Texas Rep. Ron Paul) All this person got was a a knock to the head and the opportunity to file an assault charge, for their stupendous effort at agitating.(Apparently, this person took literally Frederick Douglass' admonition to a young freedman to "agitate, agitate, agitate". )
The story itself--while absurd--is hardly unique in politics. A great many ridiculous beings inhabit the world of politics and have so since...well. forever. But the aforementioned story provides an excellent example of what I call "useless beings". I would say unproductive, but they are producing something--fodder for sardonic wits who just love to pillar cretins like this woman.
Now, some will strenuously argue that agitators or activists are necessary because they are the ones fighting for the rights of the poor, minorities, etc, etc. We would not have the advances that we have in civil rights, environmental policy, and many other areas if not for the agitation of activists.
This is true, but those were the golden days of activism. Now, it is a bunch of sanctimonious, arrogant, affluent, persons who agitate for issues that are far less clear than what the Freedom Riders or Suffragettes fought for.
Such people are worse than useless for not only do they not contribute much of value to society,but they increase the rancor and hostility of political dialogue in the United States.They do this by engaging in provocative acts that are meant to draw angry responses. This in turn creates a poisoned atmosphere for rational political discourse.
The only thing these are agitators success at are irritating people.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Saturday, October 23, 2010
The Story of a Boy (continued)
The boy would eventually graduate from high school and college. He would take a job with an local employer, working as a manual laborer shortly after taking the ceremonial walk at his college graduation.
It was a a graduation that occur under a dark moment in his life for shortly before the boy had suffered the passing of his beloved grandfather. It was a joyous occasion that was tinged with feelings of great sadness and regret that the departed patriarch who had put so much time into caring for the boy when he was young, could not be present for the boy's greatest achievement. The boy would walk the aisle with an aching heart for he had lost one of the few people he had in his corner.
He knew that he had not been the best of grandsons--especially so during his grandfather's final years--and that would be a regret that would never leave him. He had failed to give what had been given to him. What hurt most was that the boy could never tell his grandfather sorry, never could explain how much he meant to him, never could he tell him much how he loved him. The only thing he could do was to make sure that he was as dedicated to his father as his father and grandfather were dedicated to each other.
Another person would not be present for the boy's college graduation--the woman who gave berth to him so many years before. But unlike the innumerable other times she was not there for him, her absence was not of her choosing. She had passed away in his sophomore year in college from cancer.
She had been diagnosed the year before with cancer, so her death was not unexpected. The boy knew it was coming--and visited twice in the year granted to her.The reader must think low of the boy, for how cold is it for a boy to only see his dying mother twice? How could a boy feel so little that he would only see her two times as she lay dying?
When the boy reflected on these events in later years, he would feel some guilt over that final year, but at the time he did not feel anything. He was numb. He would come to know the feeling of complete emptiness as he sat and stared at the little green box that contained her ashes.He could only sit in mute indifference as the procession of mourners mourned the loss of a woman who gave little to those who should have meant most.
How could he feel anything for a vagabond who abandoned him at an early age to pursue dreams of a musical career? How could he feel anything, but bitterness towards a person who essentially ignored him for most of his life?
What tears he had were shed for the opportunity she squandered to be a person of substance. That was the real tragedy here, he thought to himself. She had two children who would have loved her--a love that would mean far more than the love of some music producer or adoring crowd who love you one minute, than toss you aside for the next big thing a minute later.But apparently, the undying love of her babies meant nothing to her in comparison to the love of music executives. Unfortunately for her, she never received their love.
"The tragedy here was not her death, but her wanton disregard of what matters most to mothers in this world--their children. Her life was not a waste in terms of personal accomplishments, but in her personal relationship with those who should have been of paramount importance." said the boy as he later pondered his birth mother's legacy.
The boy could not help but learn a lesson in how to live your life after analyzing his very different reactions to the deaths of his mother and grandfather. Their respective passings taught him that family comes first before anything. A career is nice to have, but such a thing pales in importance when an issue of family is involved.Sacrifice for family is a glorious thing, while sacrifice for a career is the act of a person of a dubious moral nature.
(to be continued)
It was a a graduation that occur under a dark moment in his life for shortly before the boy had suffered the passing of his beloved grandfather. It was a joyous occasion that was tinged with feelings of great sadness and regret that the departed patriarch who had put so much time into caring for the boy when he was young, could not be present for the boy's greatest achievement. The boy would walk the aisle with an aching heart for he had lost one of the few people he had in his corner.
He knew that he had not been the best of grandsons--especially so during his grandfather's final years--and that would be a regret that would never leave him. He had failed to give what had been given to him. What hurt most was that the boy could never tell his grandfather sorry, never could explain how much he meant to him, never could he tell him much how he loved him. The only thing he could do was to make sure that he was as dedicated to his father as his father and grandfather were dedicated to each other.
Another person would not be present for the boy's college graduation--the woman who gave berth to him so many years before. But unlike the innumerable other times she was not there for him, her absence was not of her choosing. She had passed away in his sophomore year in college from cancer.
She had been diagnosed the year before with cancer, so her death was not unexpected. The boy knew it was coming--and visited twice in the year granted to her.The reader must think low of the boy, for how cold is it for a boy to only see his dying mother twice? How could a boy feel so little that he would only see her two times as she lay dying?
When the boy reflected on these events in later years, he would feel some guilt over that final year, but at the time he did not feel anything. He was numb. He would come to know the feeling of complete emptiness as he sat and stared at the little green box that contained her ashes.He could only sit in mute indifference as the procession of mourners mourned the loss of a woman who gave little to those who should have meant most.
How could he feel anything for a vagabond who abandoned him at an early age to pursue dreams of a musical career? How could he feel anything, but bitterness towards a person who essentially ignored him for most of his life?
What tears he had were shed for the opportunity she squandered to be a person of substance. That was the real tragedy here, he thought to himself. She had two children who would have loved her--a love that would mean far more than the love of some music producer or adoring crowd who love you one minute, than toss you aside for the next big thing a minute later.But apparently, the undying love of her babies meant nothing to her in comparison to the love of music executives. Unfortunately for her, she never received their love.
"The tragedy here was not her death, but her wanton disregard of what matters most to mothers in this world--their children. Her life was not a waste in terms of personal accomplishments, but in her personal relationship with those who should have been of paramount importance." said the boy as he later pondered his birth mother's legacy.
The boy could not help but learn a lesson in how to live your life after analyzing his very different reactions to the deaths of his mother and grandfather. Their respective passings taught him that family comes first before anything. A career is nice to have, but such a thing pales in importance when an issue of family is involved.Sacrifice for family is a glorious thing, while sacrifice for a career is the act of a person of a dubious moral nature.
(to be continued)
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
The Story of a Boy
The tale I am about to share is about a boy. It is a tale about a boy who is normal in almost every conceivable way save for one important aspect--he had no mother.
No mother you say? How is such a thing possible? How can a person be born, but have no mother? Tis true in this case. This boy never had a mother.
He never felt the loving embrace of mom after a nasty fall or hear her comforting words after a bad day at school. He never created a drawing for her on Mother's Day nor did he save his pennies so he could buy her a nice birthday gift. She was not there for Thanksgiving, Christmas, his birthday, or any holiday. She was not there for his highs or for his lows. The spot reserved in all boys hearts for their mother was vacant in his for he had no mother.
The curious case of the motherless boy begins in the spring of 1977. The boy is born to parents of middle class backgrounds. Both were educated, hard working people who displayed artistic talent. But only one was selfless. Only one would understand and embrace the responsibility of parenthood. It was not She.
Less than two years after the berth of the boy, the couple would divorce with the boy temporally left in the care of the woman who gave berth to him. But within a short time, the woman who gave the boy life would threaten to give the child up for adoption if the father did not take the boy. The father did what he knew he had to do--take the child and raise the boy himself.
And that he did, but not without much assistance from his father. The grandfather of the boy would be there for both the father and son, through thick and through thin. But it was not a great burden for he lived his life in service to his family. When the father would later fall ill, it would be the 70 year-old grandfather who would lay on the floor next to his son so he could take care of his boy. Men of such extraordinary quality as he are the rarest of species.
The boy would grow to love and revere his father and grandfather, but not without many, many years of struggle. The father in particular would deal with the emotional wreckage that the absence of the boy's birth mother would cause. Anger, hurt, intense self doubt, confusion...these feelings would beget emotional outbursts that lead to physical confrontations at school and home.
The boy fought not only other children, but the pain that he felt deep inside him. He knew not why he felt so, just that he had always had these feelings. "Why do I feel this way?" he would ask himself.Why did he always feel so angry, so bitter, so worthless?
The father was equally perplexed, but for a different reason. He simply was at wit's end at how to control the uncontrollable fury of his little boy. He would have given anything to alleviate his child's pain, but this was beyond his control. He took the child to therapists who said that his boy had above average intelligence, but had serious emotional problems as a result of the absence of the boy's mother.
The father did what he could only do and that was to ameliorate the problem as best he could through further counseling and medication for the boy. In time, this would prove the wise choice for with maturity the explosive outbursts of rage steadily decreased. The boy would become a man.
(to be continued)
No mother you say? How is such a thing possible? How can a person be born, but have no mother? Tis true in this case. This boy never had a mother.
He never felt the loving embrace of mom after a nasty fall or hear her comforting words after a bad day at school. He never created a drawing for her on Mother's Day nor did he save his pennies so he could buy her a nice birthday gift. She was not there for Thanksgiving, Christmas, his birthday, or any holiday. She was not there for his highs or for his lows. The spot reserved in all boys hearts for their mother was vacant in his for he had no mother.
The curious case of the motherless boy begins in the spring of 1977. The boy is born to parents of middle class backgrounds. Both were educated, hard working people who displayed artistic talent. But only one was selfless. Only one would understand and embrace the responsibility of parenthood. It was not She.
Less than two years after the berth of the boy, the couple would divorce with the boy temporally left in the care of the woman who gave berth to him. But within a short time, the woman who gave the boy life would threaten to give the child up for adoption if the father did not take the boy. The father did what he knew he had to do--take the child and raise the boy himself.
And that he did, but not without much assistance from his father. The grandfather of the boy would be there for both the father and son, through thick and through thin. But it was not a great burden for he lived his life in service to his family. When the father would later fall ill, it would be the 70 year-old grandfather who would lay on the floor next to his son so he could take care of his boy. Men of such extraordinary quality as he are the rarest of species.
The boy would grow to love and revere his father and grandfather, but not without many, many years of struggle. The father in particular would deal with the emotional wreckage that the absence of the boy's birth mother would cause. Anger, hurt, intense self doubt, confusion...these feelings would beget emotional outbursts that lead to physical confrontations at school and home.
The boy fought not only other children, but the pain that he felt deep inside him. He knew not why he felt so, just that he had always had these feelings. "Why do I feel this way?" he would ask himself.Why did he always feel so angry, so bitter, so worthless?
The father was equally perplexed, but for a different reason. He simply was at wit's end at how to control the uncontrollable fury of his little boy. He would have given anything to alleviate his child's pain, but this was beyond his control. He took the child to therapists who said that his boy had above average intelligence, but had serious emotional problems as a result of the absence of the boy's mother.
The father did what he could only do and that was to ameliorate the problem as best he could through further counseling and medication for the boy. In time, this would prove the wise choice for with maturity the explosive outbursts of rage steadily decreased. The boy would become a man.
(to be continued)
Monday, October 18, 2010
A positive state of mind
Positive thoughts fuel positive actions or so I am told. I am not positive about that belief myself. I just know a friend who is positively convinced that a positive state of mind is a positive.
Is it so? I do not know.
Should I stroll through this life with a giant smile on my face, preaching the virtue of thinking positive? Should I wear a band on my wrist that reads WWSSD?(What Would Stuart Smalley Do?)Should I set aside some time for a daily affirmation?
After pondering this question I have come to this conclusion: Yes, yes, yes! YES WE CAN---er,that may not be the best slogan to cite right now. But the truth is the same--positive thinking is the way to go. Conduct a test on the state of my mind and it will surely comeback as POSITIVE for positive thinking!
But how shall I maintain this marvelous state of mind?How shall I resist the call of the Sirens of Discontent and Cynicism?
The solution is simple.I shall think of unicorns, cotton candy, and puppy dogs. That will most assuredly keep me thinking positive thoughts. I shall also watch Miley Cyrus videos as well as the latest Sandra Bullock romantic comedy.Does that not sound swell?!
Ain't positive thinking grand? It is if you are one of those people who sell millions of books to the mediocre and unhappy. Their bank accounts benefit positively from their preaching of positive thinking.
I am positive that such people are con artists, but then that assessment is the product of a cynical mind. Booooooooooooo! Think only positive thoughts! WWSSD?!
Yes sir, I am all about positive thinking now! Positivity is my state of mind. Nothing else, but positive thoughts and actions. I shall extend to the frustration of life and the rudeness of people the same greeting--a cheerful smile! Can you not you feel the positivity flowing through the screen as you read these words?
Now it is time to go my friends. I am overdue for some positive reinforcement. But fret not, I shall be back for some more positive thinking!
Sunday, October 17, 2010
A Debate for the Ages
This is the recorded transcript of a debate that occurred in an alternate universe. What is at stake is the office of major for the City of Saline. The two candidates are Republican John Burke and Democrat Douglas Morningstar II. The host is Alex Teijido. The setting is the gymnasium of the old Saline High School.Teijido is standing at a table that is directly in front of the two candidates.
Teijido: Hello. Welcome to the mayoral debate for the City of Saline.The two candidates are here this evening to discuss their respective plans for the city. To my left is Democrat Douglas Morningstar II and to my right is Republican John Burke. Hello gentlemen.
Morningstar: Hello
Burke:Blah.
Teijido:The format of this debate will be as follows: I ask a question and then each candidate will have 30 seconds to answer. There will be 15 seconds reserved for a rebuttal. Are you ready gentlemen?
Both:Yes/blah.
Teijido: First question goes to Mr. Burke. What will do to fix the roads east of town?
Burke:Ba, ba, bah, ba, ba blah.
Morningstar: What did he say? I cannot understand a word he said.
Teijido:He said and I quote "I will place a 2 cent surcharge on pornography sold at Habeeb's Mecca of Porn. That will generate enough revenue to pay for the desperately needed repairs.This will also have the affect of discouraging the purchase of obscene material in our fair town."
Morningstar:I didn't hear that. All I heard was gibberish.
Teijido:Mr.Morningstar, please answer the question.
Morningstar: My plan would increase property taxes by one half percent. The revenue generated would more than pay for the roads while not placing a burden on our local business owners as my opponents plan would.
Burke:Bla, blah, BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!(Burke menacingly points towards Morningstar)
Morningstar:I have no idea what you just said.
Teijido:He called you a big, dumb, ape, who he is inclined to beat the shit out of.
Morningstar:What?!Tell that goofy bastard that I'll beat his ass. I have subdued many a man in my time.
Teijido:So we've heard.
Morningstar:(looks askance at Teijido) What? Now you are going to talk shit? You are supposed to be an impartial moderator.
Teijido:Frankly Mr. Morningstar, after hearing of your many late night liaisons with people of both sexes I have developed a significant level of antipathy for you. You simply are not fit to be leader of this great city. The city that was born out of a great trial of blood in the Battle of Saline. The city where the legendary(speaks in a hushed tone) Jack Crabtree strolled the sidelines of our magnificent football field, leading Saline to many victories. Saline, the city that----(Teijido is interrupted by Morningstar)
Morningstar:To be brutally honest with you Mr. Teijido, I don't think a man who goes by the name "Lexx Bubble" is qualified to judge anyone. Your own indiscretions with Joe Jargul make me quake with anger at your hypocrisy.
Burke is joined on stage by his campaign manager, Sarah McCracken and chief advisor, Marcus Neeno. Morningstar is joined by his campaign manager and boyfriend Don Price.
Teijido: What I do in my life is irrelevant for I am not running for public office. You are.
Price:(to Morningstar) Douglas, we should leave. This has gotton out of control. This atmosphere is much too hostile for us.(he starts to pull Morningstar off stage.)
Burke: Bla. bla, bla, BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! SNUCK BLA, LALA!(Burke face reddens with rage and he starts to walk towards Morningstar and Price.)
Morningstar: (to Burke)You better back the fuck up before you get smacked the fuck up!(Morningstar clenches fists and gets into a fighting posture)
McCracken:(yelling)Stop it! What would Mr. Crabtree think?
Morningstar:(to McCracken) Who cares what that fat bastard thinks?
McCracken:How dare you speak of Mr. Crabtree so! He is the soul of our city! He is the yeast that has made our city rise!
Morningstar:(gives McCracken a look of disbelief) What th-----(at that moment Morningstar is rocked by a devastating tackle from Burke.A loud smack and thud is heard as flesh hits flesh and ground)
Burke is standing over Morningstar in triumph as Morningstar lays sprawled out and motionless.Price is kneeling at Morningstar's side, crying and imploring Morningstar to get up.
Teijido: Hello. Welcome to the mayoral debate for the City of Saline.The two candidates are here this evening to discuss their respective plans for the city. To my left is Democrat Douglas Morningstar II and to my right is Republican John Burke. Hello gentlemen.
Morningstar: Hello
Burke:Blah.
Teijido:The format of this debate will be as follows: I ask a question and then each candidate will have 30 seconds to answer. There will be 15 seconds reserved for a rebuttal. Are you ready gentlemen?
Both:Yes/blah.
Teijido: First question goes to Mr. Burke. What will do to fix the roads east of town?
Burke:Ba, ba, bah, ba, ba blah.
Morningstar: What did he say? I cannot understand a word he said.
Teijido:He said and I quote "I will place a 2 cent surcharge on pornography sold at Habeeb's Mecca of Porn. That will generate enough revenue to pay for the desperately needed repairs.This will also have the affect of discouraging the purchase of obscene material in our fair town."
Morningstar:I didn't hear that. All I heard was gibberish.
Teijido:Mr.Morningstar, please answer the question.
Morningstar: My plan would increase property taxes by one half percent. The revenue generated would more than pay for the roads while not placing a burden on our local business owners as my opponents plan would.
Burke:Bla, blah, BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!(Burke menacingly points towards Morningstar)
Morningstar:I have no idea what you just said.
Teijido:He called you a big, dumb, ape, who he is inclined to beat the shit out of.
Morningstar:What?!Tell that goofy bastard that I'll beat his ass. I have subdued many a man in my time.
Teijido:So we've heard.
Morningstar:(looks askance at Teijido) What? Now you are going to talk shit? You are supposed to be an impartial moderator.
Teijido:Frankly Mr. Morningstar, after hearing of your many late night liaisons with people of both sexes I have developed a significant level of antipathy for you. You simply are not fit to be leader of this great city. The city that was born out of a great trial of blood in the Battle of Saline. The city where the legendary(speaks in a hushed tone) Jack Crabtree strolled the sidelines of our magnificent football field, leading Saline to many victories. Saline, the city that----(Teijido is interrupted by Morningstar)
Morningstar:To be brutally honest with you Mr. Teijido, I don't think a man who goes by the name "Lexx Bubble" is qualified to judge anyone. Your own indiscretions with Joe Jargul make me quake with anger at your hypocrisy.
Burke is joined on stage by his campaign manager, Sarah McCracken and chief advisor, Marcus Neeno. Morningstar is joined by his campaign manager and boyfriend Don Price.
Teijido: What I do in my life is irrelevant for I am not running for public office. You are.
Price:(to Morningstar) Douglas, we should leave. This has gotton out of control. This atmosphere is much too hostile for us.(he starts to pull Morningstar off stage.)
Burke: Bla. bla, bla, BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! SNUCK BLA, LALA!(Burke face reddens with rage and he starts to walk towards Morningstar and Price.)
Morningstar: (to Burke)You better back the fuck up before you get smacked the fuck up!(Morningstar clenches fists and gets into a fighting posture)
McCracken:(yelling)Stop it! What would Mr. Crabtree think?
Morningstar:(to McCracken) Who cares what that fat bastard thinks?
McCracken:How dare you speak of Mr. Crabtree so! He is the soul of our city! He is the yeast that has made our city rise!
Morningstar:(gives McCracken a look of disbelief) What th-----(at that moment Morningstar is rocked by a devastating tackle from Burke.A loud smack and thud is heard as flesh hits flesh and ground)
Burke is standing over Morningstar in triumph as Morningstar lays sprawled out and motionless.Price is kneeling at Morningstar's side, crying and imploring Morningstar to get up.
Burke: Ba, ba, BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!(Burke beats chest and does a Polynesian war dance called "The Haka".)
Price:Dougie, get up. Please get up!We have reservations for dinner at Che Nous with your brother and Jean Luc .(the only response Morningstar offers is a groan of pain)
Teijido: Serves the twink right. He was due his comeuppance.(Teijido turns and leaves)
Price angrily glares at Teijido. Teijido, Burke and Burke's entourage leave the stage--save for Neeno who offers a departing comment.
Neeno: Nick Snick BOW! Chairmen Bao demands perfection!
Price is utterly perplexed by this comment. He can only stare as Neeno saunters away with his hands in his pocket, whistling the theme song to "Growing Pains".The crowd disperses leaving Morningstar unconscious and Price in shock at what just happened.
Friday, October 15, 2010
Friday night blues
It is a cool, crisp, fall Friday evening and I have no where to go.I do not have a party to attend nor a buddy--they are either working or out on a date-- to go to a bar with. The movie I want to see started right as I left work. In short, I have nothing to do and I hate it.
All I have at my disposal is my television, a net book, and my mind. On the screen is the show "Sons of Anarchy" --a splendid show by the way--and on my mind is on the Michigan game tomorrow. No lady to call, no group of friends to meet up with, just....myself.
What a terrible waste of a fall Friday. It is bad enough that I am sitting home on a Friday, but this evening is a superb example of the splendor of a Michigan fall. To sit inside while others revel in this glorious weather is tragic.
How shall I prevent the re-occurrence of such a tragedy? Make more friends? Acquire a girlfriend? Both? Who knows where the answer lies. I just know that it cannot happen again.
All I have at my disposal is my television, a net book, and my mind. On the screen is the show "Sons of Anarchy" --a splendid show by the way--and on my mind is on the Michigan game tomorrow. No lady to call, no group of friends to meet up with, just....myself.
What a terrible waste of a fall Friday. It is bad enough that I am sitting home on a Friday, but this evening is a superb example of the splendor of a Michigan fall. To sit inside while others revel in this glorious weather is tragic.
How shall I prevent the re-occurrence of such a tragedy? Make more friends? Acquire a girlfriend? Both? Who knows where the answer lies. I just know that it cannot happen again.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Talking sense to the senseless
It is a fool who tries to engage an idiot in an intelligent conversation.For how can one expect a person who uses their head solely to rest a hat upon, to be able to develop in said head, thought provoking ideas that lead to healthy debates?
How can one expect an intelligent exchange of ideas from a person who cannot grasp that the blaring sirens of the police and emergency vehicles always have the right of way--even during a movie shoot?
Many a hour I have spent trying to talk to the simpletons I work with. Many a hour has been expended in an futile attempt to reason with blockheads who absolutely refuse to use their cognitive faculties.
Why do I never learn? Why do I keep trying to talk sense to the insensible?Am I insane? If you believe that the definition of insanity is to try the same thing over and over again and expect a different result, than I just may be crazy.
These are not bad people--for the most part. They are hard working, honest folks, who do not spend much try exercising their brains. Thinking for them starts and ends with the most parochial of concerns.There is nothing wrong with that. It just means that their intellect is very limited when it comes to thinking through an issue or problem.
This entry makes me look like an arrogant douche and I really don't care. The lack of regard I have for my co-workers intelligence does not mean I think myself superior overall to these people. Not at all. Where I am strong, they are weak. Conversely, where I am weak they are strong. It all balances out in the end.
But gosh, their stupidity irritates me sometimes.
How can one expect an intelligent exchange of ideas from a person who cannot grasp that the blaring sirens of the police and emergency vehicles always have the right of way--even during a movie shoot?
Many a hour I have spent trying to talk to the simpletons I work with. Many a hour has been expended in an futile attempt to reason with blockheads who absolutely refuse to use their cognitive faculties.
Why do I never learn? Why do I keep trying to talk sense to the insensible?Am I insane? If you believe that the definition of insanity is to try the same thing over and over again and expect a different result, than I just may be crazy.
These are not bad people--for the most part. They are hard working, honest folks, who do not spend much try exercising their brains. Thinking for them starts and ends with the most parochial of concerns.There is nothing wrong with that. It just means that their intellect is very limited when it comes to thinking through an issue or problem.
This entry makes me look like an arrogant douche and I really don't care. The lack of regard I have for my co-workers intelligence does not mean I think myself superior overall to these people. Not at all. Where I am strong, they are weak. Conversely, where I am weak they are strong. It all balances out in the end.
But gosh, their stupidity irritates me sometimes.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Money and Happiness
The saying "Money can't buy you happiness" is true enough. It cannot buy the profound sense of satisfaction and joy that we know as happiness. That can only come from within.
But what money can buy are opportunities to increase the amount of enjoyment in a person's life.More enjoyment in life equals a greater chance of experiencing general satisfaction in life. Thus, money can--in a indirect way--buy you happiness, but only in short bursts.
Money can buy us all the accouterments of a comfortable lifestyle. Houses, cars, vacations to exotic lands..these are the sort of that money can help us buy. These are also some of the things that can contribute to an overall satisfied mood.But these objects of luxury can only augment, not create, happiness.
My current job does not provide me with the opportunity(read: funds) to have a nice car or go on excursions to Italy like the jobs of my friends do.My job is terribly unsatisfying from a professional as well as a financial standpoint. For those who has read my blog, this is no secret.
But having said that, I can admit to a general overall sense of happiness. Yeah, I am displeased with my professional and financial situation, but neither defines me. I have my family and friends, my passion, and also perspective. Many people have it much worse than I. How can I complain when so many have much less than I?
Of course, my level of happiness would be increased significantly if I were to find a better paying job.This goes back to the increasing of opportunities that money provides.This is why I need a new job.
My satisfaction level will not automatically increase with a new job that pays better than job I have now. This I know for sure. But it will afford me the chance to explore the world and to live out my dreams. A job is a means to an end.
But what money can buy are opportunities to increase the amount of enjoyment in a person's life.More enjoyment in life equals a greater chance of experiencing general satisfaction in life. Thus, money can--in a indirect way--buy you happiness, but only in short bursts.
Money can buy us all the accouterments of a comfortable lifestyle. Houses, cars, vacations to exotic lands..these are the sort of that money can help us buy. These are also some of the things that can contribute to an overall satisfied mood.But these objects of luxury can only augment, not create, happiness.
My current job does not provide me with the opportunity(read: funds) to have a nice car or go on excursions to Italy like the jobs of my friends do.My job is terribly unsatisfying from a professional as well as a financial standpoint. For those who has read my blog, this is no secret.
But having said that, I can admit to a general overall sense of happiness. Yeah, I am displeased with my professional and financial situation, but neither defines me. I have my family and friends, my passion, and also perspective. Many people have it much worse than I. How can I complain when so many have much less than I?
Of course, my level of happiness would be increased significantly if I were to find a better paying job.This goes back to the increasing of opportunities that money provides.This is why I need a new job.
My satisfaction level will not automatically increase with a new job that pays better than job I have now. This I know for sure. But it will afford me the chance to explore the world and to live out my dreams. A job is a means to an end.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
The duality of history
It is common today for people to deride Columbus Day. How can we celebrate a holiday for a man who started the annihilation of the indigenous population of the Americas? How can we laud a man who found this continent by accident and who was not even the first European to land in the Americas??
Christopher Columbus was a greedy, murderous, incompetent if you believe some.To others he was a forward thinking adventurist. Which is true?
Since I have read almost nothing of the man, I am going to refrain from making a judgment until I have read more about him. But I do think this debate illustrates the complexity of history.
Both sides claim that their assessment is the truth. He was a Villain. No, he was a Hero. Which is true?
Speaking from a purely historical perspective, I would say that both are. Columbus was both hero and villain. He was Batman and The Joker rolled into one. I say this because his acts both hurt and benefited men.
Our nation would not be here if not for Columbus' journey to the Caribbean and Central and South America. His act woke Europeans up to the bounty that lay in the lands of the "New World". Hundreds of millions would benefit greatly from the exploitation of those fertile lands.Columbus deserves our adulation for bringing the Americas to the attention of the Europeans.
But just as millions of lives would profit from the "discovery" of these lands, millions more would find only pain and suffering. Tens of millions of Indians died as the result of disease,slavery, and war. Millions of Africans would suffer as the result of slavery and its side effects.Many a life was lost in the conquest and exploitation of the Americas.Columbus was partially responsible for this epic human tragedy
Both opinions are factually sound. Both are based on reasonable logic. To argue against either is to risk being labeled inhuman or a hypocrite.
How can anyone with an ounce of humanity excuse what happened to the indigenous peoples? But equally true is the fact that we who are sitting here discussing this today are beneficiaries of his "discovery". The largess can we enjoy as Americans can be traced back to Columbus's voyage to the new world.
It suffices to say that no easy judgment can be made of such an epoch defining event as Columbus's discovery of the Americas. It was both good and bad. It was of great detriment and benefit to humanity. Such a terrifically wicked event it was.
Christopher Columbus was a greedy, murderous, incompetent if you believe some.To others he was a forward thinking adventurist. Which is true?
Since I have read almost nothing of the man, I am going to refrain from making a judgment until I have read more about him. But I do think this debate illustrates the complexity of history.
Both sides claim that their assessment is the truth. He was a Villain. No, he was a Hero. Which is true?
Speaking from a purely historical perspective, I would say that both are. Columbus was both hero and villain. He was Batman and The Joker rolled into one. I say this because his acts both hurt and benefited men.
Our nation would not be here if not for Columbus' journey to the Caribbean and Central and South America. His act woke Europeans up to the bounty that lay in the lands of the "New World". Hundreds of millions would benefit greatly from the exploitation of those fertile lands.Columbus deserves our adulation for bringing the Americas to the attention of the Europeans.
But just as millions of lives would profit from the "discovery" of these lands, millions more would find only pain and suffering. Tens of millions of Indians died as the result of disease,slavery, and war. Millions of Africans would suffer as the result of slavery and its side effects.Many a life was lost in the conquest and exploitation of the Americas.Columbus was partially responsible for this epic human tragedy
Both opinions are factually sound. Both are based on reasonable logic. To argue against either is to risk being labeled inhuman or a hypocrite.
How can anyone with an ounce of humanity excuse what happened to the indigenous peoples? But equally true is the fact that we who are sitting here discussing this today are beneficiaries of his "discovery". The largess can we enjoy as Americans can be traced back to Columbus's voyage to the new world.
It suffices to say that no easy judgment can be made of such an epoch defining event as Columbus's discovery of the Americas. It was both good and bad. It was of great detriment and benefit to humanity. Such a terrifically wicked event it was.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Furor over assault of gay teens by gang is misplaced
The outrage over the brutal and sadistic assault of two gay teens in the Bronx borough of New York City makes me wonder of this country really .
Why are is there outrage over this relatively isolated incident and not the daily beatings that occur on the streets of New York and every American city? Every day many more men and women are beaten for reasons other than sexual orientation, race, or religion. According to the FBI's Uniform Crime Reports, in 2008 there were 1, 382,012 acts of violent crime of all type.In the same year there was 9,160 hate crimes of all type.
That is an enormous difference.A difference that should cause a person to question whether if activist groups have an undue influence upon the reporters and editors of our nation's media outlets.
Violent Crime is violent crime. There is no moral difference between the beating of a person because of their sexual orientation or the beating of a person because they belong to another gang. Both are equally wrong. To differentiate because of the reason behind the attack is to inject a bias into how society views a crime that can only pervert justice.Activists only care about justice in terms of how it impacts the community they represent. The media should always be aware of that fact.
At one level, I understand why the media reports these incidents. They are sure to provoke strong emotional reactions fron large segments of the population. Emotions that will ensure more hits and longer stays on the websites as the outraged vent their anger. Sensationalism is a time tested revenue generator.
But from a journalistic perspective, I really have to question the decision to single out these incidents. It presents a distorted picture of not just the actual state of hate-influenced crime, but distracts the audience from the far more significant issue--of violent crime in general. One is a relatively minor issue, the other a major sociological problem.The news should reflect that difference.
Of course, this is not the only area where we find the media reporting certain crimes with a regularity that is way are out of proportion to their actual occurrence. How many times have we seen the media make a huge story out of the disappearance of an attractive white women? Too many to count.
What happened in the Bronx was barbaric and should repulse anyone with a conscious. But sadly, such incidents are not rare.As the violent crime statistics show, we are a nation plagued by acts of brutality. The media should not be bewailing one type of crime while ignoring another, far larger, one.
Why are is there outrage over this relatively isolated incident and not the daily beatings that occur on the streets of New York and every American city? Every day many more men and women are beaten for reasons other than sexual orientation, race, or religion. According to the FBI's Uniform Crime Reports, in 2008 there were 1, 382,012 acts of violent crime of all type.In the same year there was 9,160 hate crimes of all type.
That is an enormous difference.A difference that should cause a person to question whether if activist groups have an undue influence upon the reporters and editors of our nation's media outlets.
Violent Crime is violent crime. There is no moral difference between the beating of a person because of their sexual orientation or the beating of a person because they belong to another gang. Both are equally wrong. To differentiate because of the reason behind the attack is to inject a bias into how society views a crime that can only pervert justice.Activists only care about justice in terms of how it impacts the community they represent. The media should always be aware of that fact.
At one level, I understand why the media reports these incidents. They are sure to provoke strong emotional reactions fron large segments of the population. Emotions that will ensure more hits and longer stays on the websites as the outraged vent their anger. Sensationalism is a time tested revenue generator.
But from a journalistic perspective, I really have to question the decision to single out these incidents. It presents a distorted picture of not just the actual state of hate-influenced crime, but distracts the audience from the far more significant issue--of violent crime in general. One is a relatively minor issue, the other a major sociological problem.The news should reflect that difference.
Of course, this is not the only area where we find the media reporting certain crimes with a regularity that is way are out of proportion to their actual occurrence. How many times have we seen the media make a huge story out of the disappearance of an attractive white women? Too many to count.
What happened in the Bronx was barbaric and should repulse anyone with a conscious. But sadly, such incidents are not rare.As the violent crime statistics show, we are a nation plagued by acts of brutality. The media should not be bewailing one type of crime while ignoring another, far larger, one.
Saturday, October 9, 2010
10 things that suck
After watching Michigan get bushwhacked by MSU at home, I am in a foul mood. Hence, this entry will be dedicated to 10 things that suck. The 10 will be comprised of the serious, semi-serious, and not-at-all-serious.I am doing this to put football in perspective and bring some humor to a bad day.
1. Long, lingering, terminal illnesses'. The pain of watching a loved one slowly and painfully depart this world is a pain that I would wish on few people.
2. Any type of "-cide" or act of violence towards another being.The willful taking of a life is the worst thing a person can do. Unfortunately, sometimes such a thing is necessary, but that does not alter the wickedness of the act.Beatings and rape are a close second.
3.Theft.The stealing from another is the action of a person too lazy to acquire goods in an ethical fashion. The laziness may perhaps be the worst part of it for goods can easily be bought, but an work ethic cannot.
4.Dishonesty.Lying,cheating, or minimizing certain facets of a subject while emphasizing others--are the deeds of a scoundrel. No person with an ethical foundation of honesty and justice, could accept such behavior.
5.Infidelity. Why stay married if you feel the uncontrollable urge to violate your vows?
6.Frank Rich, Seth McFarlane and the rest of the hypocritical liberal establishment.Rich deems social media bad because it is too democratic.Anything that does not come from the Left Wing noise machine is bad apparently. Meanwhile,McFarlane still insists on portraying his infantile intellect for all of America to see.
7.Rush Limbaugh and the Right Wing of this country.Is there a more out-of-touch group of people?God, Guns, and Country may send Jim Bob from Paducah into rapture, but it turns off Jane from Poughkeepsie.
8.Working a financially and emotionally unsatisfying job."The thing is Bob, its not that I am lazy, its' that I just don't care." That single quote from the comedic masterpiece Office Space represents perfectly my feelings about my current job.
9.Being single.It really sucks spending your Saturday night bitching on your blog about things that suck. Man, I need a woman.
10.Losing to f**king Mark Dantonio and Michigan State in football.While I am glad he has fully recovered from his heart attack, I still hate to see UM lose to this douche.
There you have it. Ten things that suck. It ended up being filled more with things of a serious nature than of a lighter fare. That is what happens when you write something with almost no forethought.I'll have to do better tomorrow.
1. Long, lingering, terminal illnesses'. The pain of watching a loved one slowly and painfully depart this world is a pain that I would wish on few people.
2. Any type of "-cide" or act of violence towards another being.The willful taking of a life is the worst thing a person can do. Unfortunately, sometimes such a thing is necessary, but that does not alter the wickedness of the act.Beatings and rape are a close second.
3.Theft.The stealing from another is the action of a person too lazy to acquire goods in an ethical fashion. The laziness may perhaps be the worst part of it for goods can easily be bought, but an work ethic cannot.
4.Dishonesty.Lying,cheating, or minimizing certain facets of a subject while emphasizing others--are the deeds of a scoundrel. No person with an ethical foundation of honesty and justice, could accept such behavior.
5.Infidelity. Why stay married if you feel the uncontrollable urge to violate your vows?
6.Frank Rich, Seth McFarlane and the rest of the hypocritical liberal establishment.Rich deems social media bad because it is too democratic.Anything that does not come from the Left Wing noise machine is bad apparently. Meanwhile,McFarlane still insists on portraying his infantile intellect for all of America to see.
7.Rush Limbaugh and the Right Wing of this country.Is there a more out-of-touch group of people?God, Guns, and Country may send Jim Bob from Paducah into rapture, but it turns off Jane from Poughkeepsie.
8.Working a financially and emotionally unsatisfying job."The thing is Bob, its not that I am lazy, its' that I just don't care." That single quote from the comedic masterpiece Office Space represents perfectly my feelings about my current job.
9.Being single.It really sucks spending your Saturday night bitching on your blog about things that suck. Man, I need a woman.
10.Losing to f**king Mark Dantonio and Michigan State in football.While I am glad he has fully recovered from his heart attack, I still hate to see UM lose to this douche.
There you have it. Ten things that suck. It ended up being filled more with things of a serious nature than of a lighter fare. That is what happens when you write something with almost no forethought.I'll have to do better tomorrow.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Mother
Why did you do it mother? Why did you leave me? Why, why, why.
I'll never know the answer for you are no longer here for me to ask. Cancer took you away from us. Your departure left me more perplexed than sad--a tragic symptom of your neglect.
How could choose personal gratification over being a mother to your son? What women chooses to pursue musical career over being a mother? What kind of women does that?
You never had the looks or ability to be more than what you were--a musical weekend warrior. You were never more than a third rate singer. For that, you gave up a child. What a tragedy.
You had a career that could have provided you and me with a nice life. You had a Master's degree. You became known for forming a chorus made up of autistic children. You could have blended your love of music with education and still been a mother to me. But it was not to be.
The decision you made to leave me with my father was the best thing you ever did--and he raised me to be a good man. He dealt with the the side effects of your neglect. I was a very angry, confused, child who also lacked self esteem.I have never been in a relationship with a women because I cannot trust women. The legacy of your abandonment of me are feelings of misogyny.(though my father raised me to respect women, I still have trust issues with women)
You caused this. The simple act of not being present left me in emotional shambles. That is something I will never forgive. How could you turn your back on your baby boy? How?
I remember staring at the small box containing your ashes at the service they had for you. .The green,3-by-5 box, sitting on a stand covered by green felt cloth. I recall people coming up to me and saying how sorry they were for my loss and the eulogies that extolled your virtues and expressed regret for your passing.
But what I remember most clearly--especially when I consider the later passing of Grandpa Quattro and Snoopy--is the almost complete lack of sorrow I had that day. Not one tear did I shed that day. No emotions of grief disturbed me, no feeling of loss ate at me...nothing, but a hollow sensation. A sensation that in subsequent years would be replaced by profound grief and many a tear shed when Grandpa and Snoopy died.
The answer to why is easy enough to grasp. Grandpa took your place in my heart. Where you SHOULD have been, he is. He gave me love and support while you were traveling the roads of America in a futile pursuit to achieve musical fame.I am the man that I am in part because of him. For that, I thank you. I would never have known what an extraordinary man my grandfather was if you have stayed.
Though she was but a dog, Snoopy brought me much more joy than you ever did. The few hours a week I was around her brought warmth to my heart and a smile to my face. Her sweet and congenial temperament, helped me--for a few hours anyways--forget my anger and discontent. She was a source of great happiness for me.
I look back at your life mother and can only wonder at how you squandered your life. You gave birth to two boys, earned two college degrees, and had two careers. But what did you do with that? 4 broken marriages, multiple career changes, and a child left with no feeling for you.
The person who lost here is not I, but you. You could have had so much, but you settled for so little.
I'll never know the answer for you are no longer here for me to ask. Cancer took you away from us. Your departure left me more perplexed than sad--a tragic symptom of your neglect.
How could choose personal gratification over being a mother to your son? What women chooses to pursue musical career over being a mother? What kind of women does that?
You never had the looks or ability to be more than what you were--a musical weekend warrior. You were never more than a third rate singer. For that, you gave up a child. What a tragedy.
You had a career that could have provided you and me with a nice life. You had a Master's degree. You became known for forming a chorus made up of autistic children. You could have blended your love of music with education and still been a mother to me. But it was not to be.
The decision you made to leave me with my father was the best thing you ever did--and he raised me to be a good man. He dealt with the the side effects of your neglect. I was a very angry, confused, child who also lacked self esteem.I have never been in a relationship with a women because I cannot trust women. The legacy of your abandonment of me are feelings of misogyny.(though my father raised me to respect women, I still have trust issues with women)
You caused this. The simple act of not being present left me in emotional shambles. That is something I will never forgive. How could you turn your back on your baby boy? How?
I remember staring at the small box containing your ashes at the service they had for you. .The green,3-by-5 box, sitting on a stand covered by green felt cloth. I recall people coming up to me and saying how sorry they were for my loss and the eulogies that extolled your virtues and expressed regret for your passing.
But what I remember most clearly--especially when I consider the later passing of Grandpa Quattro and Snoopy--is the almost complete lack of sorrow I had that day. Not one tear did I shed that day. No emotions of grief disturbed me, no feeling of loss ate at me...nothing, but a hollow sensation. A sensation that in subsequent years would be replaced by profound grief and many a tear shed when Grandpa and Snoopy died.
The answer to why is easy enough to grasp. Grandpa took your place in my heart. Where you SHOULD have been, he is. He gave me love and support while you were traveling the roads of America in a futile pursuit to achieve musical fame.I am the man that I am in part because of him. For that, I thank you. I would never have known what an extraordinary man my grandfather was if you have stayed.
Though she was but a dog, Snoopy brought me much more joy than you ever did. The few hours a week I was around her brought warmth to my heart and a smile to my face. Her sweet and congenial temperament, helped me--for a few hours anyways--forget my anger and discontent. She was a source of great happiness for me.
I look back at your life mother and can only wonder at how you squandered your life. You gave birth to two boys, earned two college degrees, and had two careers. But what did you do with that? 4 broken marriages, multiple career changes, and a child left with no feeling for you.
The person who lost here is not I, but you. You could have had so much, but you settled for so little.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
I would have
I would have loved you, pretty girl. I would have given you a shoulder to cry when you are sad and open arms to wrap you in when you are happy. But you would not have me.
I would have been the earth to your sun. My life would have revolved around you. From the time I woke to the time I fell asleep, my thoughts would have been dominated by ideas of how to please you. But you would not have me.
I would have shared my boundless passion and love with you. I was prepared to give you what I hold most precious--my heart and soul. But you would not have me.
I would have made for you a house of love. A home where you would have been protected from this cruel world. A home where you have been provided with
undying love and support. But you would not have me.
Oh, you sweet, silly, stupid girl. You know not what you have done. I would have loved you as no one has loved you. But you have rejected me for a reason only known to you. You have turned away a man who would have given you eternal devotion and love.
My pity is not for me, but for you.I will find a women who appreciates my gifts, who desires my love. You, meanwhile, will struggle to find a man who will give you what I would have given you.You will bounce from man to man, searching for something that you won't ever find because you have no idea what you are looking for.
I would have loved you....
I would have been the earth to your sun. My life would have revolved around you. From the time I woke to the time I fell asleep, my thoughts would have been dominated by ideas of how to please you. But you would not have me.
I would have shared my boundless passion and love with you. I was prepared to give you what I hold most precious--my heart and soul. But you would not have me.
I would have made for you a house of love. A home where you would have been protected from this cruel world. A home where you have been provided with
undying love and support. But you would not have me.
Oh, you sweet, silly, stupid girl. You know not what you have done. I would have loved you as no one has loved you. But you have rejected me for a reason only known to you. You have turned away a man who would have given you eternal devotion and love.
My pity is not for me, but for you.I will find a women who appreciates my gifts, who desires my love. You, meanwhile, will struggle to find a man who will give you what I would have given you.You will bounce from man to man, searching for something that you won't ever find because you have no idea what you are looking for.
I would have loved you....
Monday, October 4, 2010
Breathless
I see her and my breath is taken away. Thief! How dare you steal from me my breath!
So what that you are a visage of Venus. So what that with every blink of your eyelid and every step you take I fall more in love with you.You haven't the right to confiscate my breath!
What is worse is that I am powerless to stop you. You take my breath with impunity. There is no denying your strength to purloin my breath, to swindle from my lungs the air that formerly filled it.
Alas, what a fate! Powerless to stifle the snatching of my breath from such a wickedly beautiful being. I am left an impotent, feeble, and wretched being when she passes from my view. Such a terrifically awful event that is!
So exquisite are those lips, so very graceful those curves, so exceptionally fine her hair. Paris would soon forget Helen if his eyes should have been so fortunate to fall upon her.Pygmalion could not have sculpted anything more gorgeous than she.
You leave me breathless, my beautiful bandit. You picked from the pocket of my chest the air that fills my lungs.Such a fine fate it is.
So what that you are a visage of Venus. So what that with every blink of your eyelid and every step you take I fall more in love with you.You haven't the right to confiscate my breath!
What is worse is that I am powerless to stop you. You take my breath with impunity. There is no denying your strength to purloin my breath, to swindle from my lungs the air that formerly filled it.
Alas, what a fate! Powerless to stifle the snatching of my breath from such a wickedly beautiful being. I am left an impotent, feeble, and wretched being when she passes from my view. Such a terrifically awful event that is!
So exquisite are those lips, so very graceful those curves, so exceptionally fine her hair. Paris would soon forget Helen if his eyes should have been so fortunate to fall upon her.Pygmalion could not have sculpted anything more gorgeous than she.
You leave me breathless, my beautiful bandit. You picked from the pocket of my chest the air that fills my lungs.Such a fine fate it is.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
A brain that rests not
Zoom go the thoughts in my head, stopping for no one or thing. All things funny and serious, banal and exceptional, and ugly and beautiful, race through my skull at warp speed.Sometimes organized, most times bouncing around like lottery balls.
That brunette nurse? Oh yes, she is wife material. Educated, beautiful, and perhaps most importantly, she enjoys Michigan football. Wicked awesome!
Match.com? Bah! On the Whack-O-Meter, it merits a 7 out of 10. The women you like don't like you and the women you are not attracted to are interested in you. Pish!
Robert? F**king douche! Never in the course of recorded history has someone who has known so little speak so much about subjects he is in complete ignorance of. This jackwagon puts the a in azzhole.
My job blows. Why do I work here? How can I get out of it?Am I stuck here forever? God, I hope not. I must get out of here.
I hate Hollywood Liberals.A bunch of presumptuous pricks who think they know much, but who really know very little. Someone should stuff large blocks of Limburger cheese in their mouths and nostrils.
Nasal allergies are terrible. I am suffering through a case of one as I write this. I took two Benadryl tablets, but they have done nothing to stop the runny nose, water eyes, and the occasional sneeze. I really am not in a suitable state to write.
Michigan's defense sucks. Sparty is going to shred it to the tune of 550 yards and 30 plus points. Will Shoelace be able to match that?I don't know. MSU's defense can conceivably slow UM down. I do not believe that UM can slow MSU down.
I need to make more money. My bills are not bad at all, but this job just does not pay enough for me to live the life I want. Finding a better job is my number one priority right now.
Love is on my mind. I need it, I want it, I deserve it. Will I ever taste the intoxicating elixir of Eros? Will thine heart ever be filled with the contentment and passion that love brings?
It is Monday morning which means the weekend is done. Blah! I do wish I was living another life.
That brunette nurse? Oh yes, she is wife material. Educated, beautiful, and perhaps most importantly, she enjoys Michigan football. Wicked awesome!
Match.com? Bah! On the Whack-O-Meter, it merits a 7 out of 10. The women you like don't like you and the women you are not attracted to are interested in you. Pish!
Robert? F**king douche! Never in the course of recorded history has someone who has known so little speak so much about subjects he is in complete ignorance of. This jackwagon puts the a in azzhole.
My job blows. Why do I work here? How can I get out of it?Am I stuck here forever? God, I hope not. I must get out of here.
I hate Hollywood Liberals.A bunch of presumptuous pricks who think they know much, but who really know very little. Someone should stuff large blocks of Limburger cheese in their mouths and nostrils.
Nasal allergies are terrible. I am suffering through a case of one as I write this. I took two Benadryl tablets, but they have done nothing to stop the runny nose, water eyes, and the occasional sneeze. I really am not in a suitable state to write.
Michigan's defense sucks. Sparty is going to shred it to the tune of 550 yards and 30 plus points. Will Shoelace be able to match that?I don't know. MSU's defense can conceivably slow UM down. I do not believe that UM can slow MSU down.
I need to make more money. My bills are not bad at all, but this job just does not pay enough for me to live the life I want. Finding a better job is my number one priority right now.
Love is on my mind. I need it, I want it, I deserve it. Will I ever taste the intoxicating elixir of Eros? Will thine heart ever be filled with the contentment and passion that love brings?
It is Monday morning which means the weekend is done. Blah! I do wish I was living another life.
Friday, October 1, 2010
Women and Me
I am obsessed with women. I really am. Every thought seems to steer towards the direction of those of the female persuasion--and during football season no less! This is a most disturbing trend that must be squashed.
For most of my life I have had periods of intense interest in women followed by periods of indifference. Football in particular has always been an excellent distraction for me. Once the season began most of my thoughts were concerned with questions relating to the Wolverines and Lions. Hardly a thought was dedicated to the fairer sex.
But now football is no longer as effective of a distraction as it once was. The season is a month old and I spend much of my time contemplating women. Argh! I hate it!
How odd you might think I am from reading this. After all, what heterosexual male does not think about women? What heterosexual man does NOT want to think about women?
It's not that I am a misogynist, its that I don't understand women.I don't know how they think, their behavior I find to be odd, and most importantly, I don't know how to interact with the ones I am attracted to. That unsettles me.(I interact just fine with women in general, its the ones that I like that I have problems with.)
Women are strange beings to me. They are as big of a mystery to me as the bottom of the ocean is to scientists. Perplexing these creatures are to me.
I have never had a women of my own. No mother, no girlfriend, no close friend who happened to be a girl, I have not had one close relationship with a woman. My entire life has been influenced and shaped by my relationships with men--though my mother did indirectly shape my life by her absence from it. Men are those who reared and loved men. It is men who are my friends. It is men who I know and trust.
A therapist of mine once told me that I was "too male".I was too much of a guy. My interests were too narrow. I suppose to an extent that is true. I do enjoy football, war movies, reading about war, politics...interests one normally associates with males.
But the therapist--a woman--only read a portion of me. I like romantic movies if they are of quality and the same for love songs. Dance appeals to me. I am inclined to be physically affectionate--but I never have a chance to be so. There is so much more to me than what people see from the outside.
I am a passionate man who has a burning desire to be passionate about a lady.I am a romantic who yearns to share his feelings with a woman. A man who craves to weave his body with hers to form a tapestry of love.
I want to stare lovingly into her brown eyes, my hands gently brushing her silky black hair away from her so I may enjoy all the fine contours of her magnificent countenance, kissing sweetly those pouty pink lips. I want to hold her in my arms, her heart beating in rhythm with mine, in an loving embrace for the rest of our days.
As you can see from the above, my mind is in heat. The blast furnace called love is heating my imagination to a boiling point. I need someone to share my words, thoughts, and heart with.
So as you can see, there is a different side to me that is begging desperately to be freed from the shackles that I have placed upon it.The question--or questions--are will I do so? Will I have a chance to do so?
The first is dependent on me. I simply have to rid myself of the "mommy issue" for once and for all. The second question only the future knows and it is not wont to share. Alas, I am stuck in this purgatory .
For most of my life I have had periods of intense interest in women followed by periods of indifference. Football in particular has always been an excellent distraction for me. Once the season began most of my thoughts were concerned with questions relating to the Wolverines and Lions. Hardly a thought was dedicated to the fairer sex.
But now football is no longer as effective of a distraction as it once was. The season is a month old and I spend much of my time contemplating women. Argh! I hate it!
How odd you might think I am from reading this. After all, what heterosexual male does not think about women? What heterosexual man does NOT want to think about women?
It's not that I am a misogynist, its that I don't understand women.I don't know how they think, their behavior I find to be odd, and most importantly, I don't know how to interact with the ones I am attracted to. That unsettles me.(I interact just fine with women in general, its the ones that I like that I have problems with.)
Women are strange beings to me. They are as big of a mystery to me as the bottom of the ocean is to scientists. Perplexing these creatures are to me.
I have never had a women of my own. No mother, no girlfriend, no close friend who happened to be a girl, I have not had one close relationship with a woman. My entire life has been influenced and shaped by my relationships with men--though my mother did indirectly shape my life by her absence from it. Men are those who reared and loved men. It is men who are my friends. It is men who I know and trust.
A therapist of mine once told me that I was "too male".I was too much of a guy. My interests were too narrow. I suppose to an extent that is true. I do enjoy football, war movies, reading about war, politics...interests one normally associates with males.
But the therapist--a woman--only read a portion of me. I like romantic movies if they are of quality and the same for love songs. Dance appeals to me. I am inclined to be physically affectionate--but I never have a chance to be so. There is so much more to me than what people see from the outside.
I am a passionate man who has a burning desire to be passionate about a lady.I am a romantic who yearns to share his feelings with a woman. A man who craves to weave his body with hers to form a tapestry of love.
I want to stare lovingly into her brown eyes, my hands gently brushing her silky black hair away from her so I may enjoy all the fine contours of her magnificent countenance, kissing sweetly those pouty pink lips. I want to hold her in my arms, her heart beating in rhythm with mine, in an loving embrace for the rest of our days.
As you can see from the above, my mind is in heat. The blast furnace called love is heating my imagination to a boiling point. I need someone to share my words, thoughts, and heart with.
So as you can see, there is a different side to me that is begging desperately to be freed from the shackles that I have placed upon it.The question--or questions--are will I do so? Will I have a chance to do so?
The first is dependent on me. I simply have to rid myself of the "mommy issue" for once and for all. The second question only the future knows and it is not wont to share. Alas, I am stuck in this purgatory .
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