Get Me a Bucket
15 years ago
Sunday, March 31, 2002
I'm going back to Cali, rising, surprising
Advising, realizing, she's sizing me up
Her bikini - small; heels - tall
She said, she liked, the ocean
She showed me a beach, gave me a peach
and pulled out the suntan lotion
Now I thought that was fast, but this girl was faster
She's lookin for a real good time
I said, "Close your eyes, I got a surprise,"
and I ran away with the bottle of wine
I'm going back to Cali, Cali, Cali
I'm going back to Cali.. I don't think so
I'm going back to Cali, Cali, Cali
I'm going back to Cali.. I don't think so
In D.C. now. Nice place. Been here about a bazillion times as a kid, but always as a kid playing tourist. This is the first time I've actually hung out in the city-part, the part where all the people actually live. It's a lot different from what I thought it would be like, but on the other hand, all I know about living here is from what I've seen in "St. Elmo's Fire" and "The West Wing."
The city itself is kind of a small, mellow big city. Add a dash of old skool, colonial Philly, a dollop of Southern southerness, a pinch of European cafe culture, a dollop of multi-ethnic New York and hootchie-mama Miami and you get it. It's like all of that, except turned down several notches so that the hootchie isn't really that hootchie or the cafe culture isn't that cafe culture. But you get my point.
Couple interesting little side notes. Went to one of the big, divy type bars in the city, the Pharmacy Club. It was divy in that it was darkly lit, had what you would consider a theme, and had a juke box full of Sabbath and Minor Threat tunes. As for it being a dive bar, though, it was still a little too.....clean. Not enough grunge, which fits into what I'm discovering is the city's kind of up-scale boho'ness. Behind us in the bar, six early 20 somethings even ordered Long Island Ice Teas. I wonder what would happen if you tried ordering a Long Island Ice Tea at the Zeitgiest or 500 Hundred Club? Would 15 surly tattooed biker boys throw you out. Would the skanky, female bartenders laugh in your face and force you to drink a Pabst? Have I told you how much I love Zietgiest?
On the other hand, the free Weekly paper is just like the weekly paper's in SF- complete with the Savage Love column and the pages and pages of ads for escort services. Strangely, it's all written without a hint of political polemics, masturbatory writing, or that smug tone of "my CD collection is more obscure than your CD collection" attitude. Score one for D.C.
Yesterday's fun even was my brother took me to a Middle Eastern cafe in Georgetown to smoke out of a hookah. A real cafe, not some touristy place with couches, pillows and belly dancers. This was real enough that if you squinted real hard, you could imagine yourself in Egypt or Jordan, complete with the over-use of the air conditioner, the Arab-American patrons, and Al Jezarra being broadcast continuously on the big screen tv. Needless to say, kind of an interesting place to be in these dark times. My brother and I kind of slunk into the corner, taking our hits, while trying to make sense of what was being broadcast and all the nasty things that were probably being said about the Jews (meaning us), trying to eavesdrop on other people's conversations, and hoping that nobody would notice that not only were we the only white people in the cafe, but that we had definite signs of having been slapped in the face with a yarmulke. Nobody noticed or said anything. Being kind of high, however, part of me wanted to go talk to the kids at the table next to me, all young Arab-Americans- some of the women in head gear some not- and try to do our little part for peace. To bridge the gap of misunderstanding and to do my part to bring a little love to the world. I was hoping that we'd have a nice civil talk, agree that we actually all believed in the same thing (which I believe is true) and then hold hands and sing Kumbaya.
Didn't do it. Oh well.
Did I tell you how high I was?
Off to see Blad II
The city itself is kind of a small, mellow big city. Add a dash of old skool, colonial Philly, a dollop of Southern southerness, a pinch of European cafe culture, a dollop of multi-ethnic New York and hootchie-mama Miami and you get it. It's like all of that, except turned down several notches so that the hootchie isn't really that hootchie or the cafe culture isn't that cafe culture. But you get my point.
Couple interesting little side notes. Went to one of the big, divy type bars in the city, the Pharmacy Club. It was divy in that it was darkly lit, had what you would consider a theme, and had a juke box full of Sabbath and Minor Threat tunes. As for it being a dive bar, though, it was still a little too.....clean. Not enough grunge, which fits into what I'm discovering is the city's kind of up-scale boho'ness. Behind us in the bar, six early 20 somethings even ordered Long Island Ice Teas. I wonder what would happen if you tried ordering a Long Island Ice Tea at the Zeitgiest or 500 Hundred Club? Would 15 surly tattooed biker boys throw you out. Would the skanky, female bartenders laugh in your face and force you to drink a Pabst? Have I told you how much I love Zietgiest?
On the other hand, the free Weekly paper is just like the weekly paper's in SF- complete with the Savage Love column and the pages and pages of ads for escort services. Strangely, it's all written without a hint of political polemics, masturbatory writing, or that smug tone of "my CD collection is more obscure than your CD collection" attitude. Score one for D.C.
Yesterday's fun even was my brother took me to a Middle Eastern cafe in Georgetown to smoke out of a hookah. A real cafe, not some touristy place with couches, pillows and belly dancers. This was real enough that if you squinted real hard, you could imagine yourself in Egypt or Jordan, complete with the over-use of the air conditioner, the Arab-American patrons, and Al Jezarra being broadcast continuously on the big screen tv. Needless to say, kind of an interesting place to be in these dark times. My brother and I kind of slunk into the corner, taking our hits, while trying to make sense of what was being broadcast and all the nasty things that were probably being said about the Jews (meaning us), trying to eavesdrop on other people's conversations, and hoping that nobody would notice that not only were we the only white people in the cafe, but that we had definite signs of having been slapped in the face with a yarmulke. Nobody noticed or said anything. Being kind of high, however, part of me wanted to go talk to the kids at the table next to me, all young Arab-Americans- some of the women in head gear some not- and try to do our little part for peace. To bridge the gap of misunderstanding and to do my part to bring a little love to the world. I was hoping that we'd have a nice civil talk, agree that we actually all believed in the same thing (which I believe is true) and then hold hands and sing Kumbaya.
Didn't do it. Oh well.
Did I tell you how high I was?
Off to see Blad II
Friday, March 29, 2002
Strange thing about Carlisle is that even thought it's in PA, which is nominally in the North, there's just enough twinge of South here that you can find Waffle House (yeah!) and Rebel Flags (boo). Which adds to it's kind of funky flavor, I guess. Spent the day in Harrisburg, which, again is kind of cute and kind of funky, but also kind of small and kind of pointless. It is the capitol of PA, but as I walked around and people watched, I kept on wondering what the fuck they were doing there. I mean, it's Harrisburg. You're in the middle of PA. You're live in the middle of nowhere. You could go live in New York, or you could go live in San Francisco, or hell, even Philly, but Harrisburg? Why? Don't you people know what's out there in this great big, beautiful country?
The only thing we did in Harrisburg was to go the Science Museum and see an Imax movie (there everywhere now, I guess). When we got there, I saw a bunch of Mennonites walking around. That's another weird things about PA, that despite it being kind of minor state, it's got a lot of strange religions running around. You got the Quakers (who aren't that strange and kind of cool), the Amish, the Mennonites, as well as a few others. Why here, I'm not sure, but I think it's because of the Germanic/Dutch ancestory of the original settlers and because the state was founded by William Penn, a Quaker who wanted to create a place where every religion could buy a coke and live in peace and harmony. Bully for William Penn.
Anyways, it kind of freaked me out, seeing this group of people still clad in 19th Century garb running around a science exhibit. Besides the obvious irony of it (don't know if Mennonites are quite with it in an ironic sense), it was just kind of weird seeing them. It's one of those SF type things, I guess. I'm used to seeing Sikhs in Turbans and Moslem girls in head girl. I'm used to Krishnah's and guys in black wearing Satanic garb and wicca's wearing crystal and running naked in the woods. Not to mention tons of Buddhists, all with the last name of Rosenberg or Katz or Rosen.
But not Mennonites.
The only thing we did in Harrisburg was to go the Science Museum and see an Imax movie (there everywhere now, I guess). When we got there, I saw a bunch of Mennonites walking around. That's another weird things about PA, that despite it being kind of minor state, it's got a lot of strange religions running around. You got the Quakers (who aren't that strange and kind of cool), the Amish, the Mennonites, as well as a few others. Why here, I'm not sure, but I think it's because of the Germanic/Dutch ancestory of the original settlers and because the state was founded by William Penn, a Quaker who wanted to create a place where every religion could buy a coke and live in peace and harmony. Bully for William Penn.
Anyways, it kind of freaked me out, seeing this group of people still clad in 19th Century garb running around a science exhibit. Besides the obvious irony of it (don't know if Mennonites are quite with it in an ironic sense), it was just kind of weird seeing them. It's one of those SF type things, I guess. I'm used to seeing Sikhs in Turbans and Moslem girls in head girl. I'm used to Krishnah's and guys in black wearing Satanic garb and wicca's wearing crystal and running naked in the woods. Not to mention tons of Buddhists, all with the last name of Rosenberg or Katz or Rosen.
But not Mennonites.
Thursday, March 28, 2002
We're live today from Carlisle PA, a little burg in the center of nowhere PA. It's actually kind of a nice, cute little town near Harrisburg that's your prototypical small town, Middle America U.S.A, except without the rednecks, country music, or pick-up trucks. What makes it especially cool is that the Weightlifting Hall of Fame is only ten miles away! Someday.....someday.....
Got some catching up to do, story-wise, so in honor of my gracious NY host, the mighty Van Hoven, here comes some tall tales....
Went bowling in the Bronx last sunday. Why bowling in the Bronx? Do you even have to ask? Even better, the alley was called "The Yankee Stadium Bowling Alley" as it was only half a block away from the House that Ruth Built. Need I say more? All I can say is, that it's a long, long way from San Francisco.
VH was en fuego, bowling the greatest game of his life. Yes, the mighty Bon Joqui himself bowled five strikes in a row (I'm supposed to let everyone know so his bowling exploits will now forever be enshrined). Even I bowled a few strikes myself, having discovered too late that I could have been one of the great Jewish bowlers of all time (and boy, is there a lot of stiff competition there) if I had only stumbled onto a four fingered bowling ball before.
What made it even more impressive is that there was something whacky going on with the pins. People would bowl perfectly bowled balls and no matter how well the ball was bowled, somehow, every pin but one would fall down. It seemed like for awhile, everyone was doing nothing but bowling 9's. Or, if they were lucky, a spare. It was pretty funny sometimes, like there was a magnet underneath the lane that would prevent the pin from going down. I wanted to diagram the actions of the pins because I believed that on certain turns, it was physically impossible for a certain pin to be still standing. The only way I could explain it was theMagic Pin of Bowling. The pin would head towards another pin, then, turn in mid-flight and hit something else. Back.....forward....back......forward.....
Oh well, guess you had to be there....
Got some catching up to do, story-wise, so in honor of my gracious NY host, the mighty Van Hoven, here comes some tall tales....
Went bowling in the Bronx last sunday. Why bowling in the Bronx? Do you even have to ask? Even better, the alley was called "The Yankee Stadium Bowling Alley" as it was only half a block away from the House that Ruth Built. Need I say more? All I can say is, that it's a long, long way from San Francisco.
VH was en fuego, bowling the greatest game of his life. Yes, the mighty Bon Joqui himself bowled five strikes in a row (I'm supposed to let everyone know so his bowling exploits will now forever be enshrined). Even I bowled a few strikes myself, having discovered too late that I could have been one of the great Jewish bowlers of all time (and boy, is there a lot of stiff competition there) if I had only stumbled onto a four fingered bowling ball before.
What made it even more impressive is that there was something whacky going on with the pins. People would bowl perfectly bowled balls and no matter how well the ball was bowled, somehow, every pin but one would fall down. It seemed like for awhile, everyone was doing nothing but bowling 9's. Or, if they were lucky, a spare. It was pretty funny sometimes, like there was a magnet underneath the lane that would prevent the pin from going down. I wanted to diagram the actions of the pins because I believed that on certain turns, it was physically impossible for a certain pin to be still standing. The only way I could explain it was theMagic Pin of Bowling. The pin would head towards another pin, then, turn in mid-flight and hit something else. Back.....forward....back......forward.....
Oh well, guess you had to be there....
Wednesday, March 27, 2002
I love Passover. In fact, it’s probably my favorite Jewish holiday. How could you not love it? It’s basically Thanksgiving, except instead of turkey and mashed potatoes, you get brisket and chicken soup with matzoh balls. And instead of football all day, with Passover you usually get a NCAA Tourney game or two. Even better, Passover is for two nights, so it’s double the fun.
Despite that, though, I have a problem with Passover. A serious problem with it. In fact, you can say I have a big, huge honking problem with it. As much as I love the idea of Passover, I think it’s a pretty dumb-ass story to throw a holiday around.
What basically bugs me is the whole giving thanks part of it. See, the point of the Seder is retell the story of the Exodus and to give thanks for being freed from slavery. Who we give thanks to is, of course, the Big Guy, the Big Kahuna, the Master of Disaster, God. Or as we Jews like to say, G-d. See, we were slaves for a long, long time and finally, at some point, G-d came around and decided to save us. For this we give Him thanks. But should we be thanking Him?
According to the story, we were slaves for around 400 years. That’s a long fucking time to be slaves. Think about it. Four hundred years ago, what we now call America was still a bunch of colonies owned by European Empires and a bunch of doomed Native Americans. Four hundred years ago, there was no tv because electricity was about three centuries away from being invented and there were no toilets so everybody just dumped their shit either out the window or into the closest river. Four hundred years ago, people were wearing pantaloons and big huge fluffy collars and calling each other “thou” and “thee” and all sorts of other dumb things. In other words, that was a long, long time ago. And imagine being in a group of people who are enslaved for that period of time. That's an awful long period of time for a group of people to know nothing but waking up every day knowing nothing but being whipped by some guy in a loin cloth, carrying mortar and pistle and your back just so the Pharoah could have a place to keep his stuffed cats when he died
And I don’t even want to bring up the fact that He, in his infinite wisdom, let us become slaves in the first place. I mean, if he was really so great, couldn’t he of done something then? Couldn’t he of like, done some duex et machina magic type thingy and kept the Egyptians from capturing us in the first place? Couldn’t He of done something other than tell Jacob what was going to happen, something like maybe warm him or tell his sons that maybe they should go to another country?
I know, I know, God had his reasons. He even told Jacob what they were, that as a reward, He would give us His law. Which is, yes, kind of a compliment because it’s not like He gave the same offer to the Hittites or Babylonians. On the other hand, how much character building does a people need before we can handle His laws? Was being slaves for, say, 200 years not enough character building? If not, couldn’t he have given us Two of his Ten commandments, then given us some of the others every time some other punk-ass Empire came down to the Promised Land and kicked our butts? And he also gave us one more thing, He gave us the Promised Land- Israel. Something which has just been working out great for us.
In fact, in a way, the whole thing is kind of symbolic of what it means to be a Jew. Think about it. What other people have pretty much been bitch-slapped by history quite like us? What other group of people have had so much bad shit happen to them? Sure, there are other groups of people who have had bad runs of it- the Irish, the Africans, the Native Americans, but we’re talking of about 4,000 years of serious bad shit. The entire Old Testament is just one big huge chronology of all the times we’ve gotten our butts kicked. We were pretty much walked all over by every Empire that came to power, the Belgium of the Bible. There was, let’s see, The Hittites, the Babylonians, the Macedonians, the Egyptians, the Greeks, and the Assyrians, just to name a few. And then the Romans came and we pissed them off so much they chased us out of our own country. Which led to about 2000 years of being scapegoated and kicked around anytime the goyim felt like kicking someone around. There was the Inquisition, the Programs, the ghettos, the ritual slaughter around Easter, the raping and pillaging by soldiers on their way to the Crusades, and the Holocaust. And that doesn’t even include the thousands of years of just simple harassment and murder.
Yet, holiday after holiday, sabbath after sabbath, day after day, here we are, thanking God for all that He has given us. After all of this, we still thank Him for everything, kind of a religious philosophy of “thank you, sir, can I have another one?” If we were thrown onto a couch by a therapist and analyzed, we’d probably be told that as a collective religion we were either co-dependant on someone not quite deserving of it or told that we were enablers. Instead of thanking God, maybe we should be giving him the finger and telling Him to go pick one somebody else for a change.
But maybe that is the point. We’ve been around now for thousands of years, one of the world’s oldest religion and, along with the Greeks, the people who kick-started Western Civilization. And despite all of the shit we went through, all of the times people came and tried to beat us, humiliate us, knock us down, even try and eliminate us through gas chambers. We’re still here. And we’ve outlasted pretty much everyone who fucked with us. The Hittites and Assyrians? Gone. Babylonians? Gone. Greece and Rome? Nothing but a huge influence on great architecture, philosophy, art, and Toga parties. Torquamada? One of history’s great villians? The Czar? Loved so much his countrymen decided to take up one of history’s great dumb ideas. Hitler? Blew his brains out like a coward in a bunker with only his frumpy mistress around to watch the whole thing.
In fact, despite all of that, it’s probably the best time ever to be Jewish in our long, ugly history. We have our Promised Land back (for now), we’re pretty much free to be who we are in most of the world, and despite an occasional hiccup of anti-semitism, we’re pretty safe. Hell, we’re doing so good we’re finally free to do what we've always wanted to do– screw shiksas.
Maybe we should be giving thanks.
Despite that, though, I have a problem with Passover. A serious problem with it. In fact, you can say I have a big, huge honking problem with it. As much as I love the idea of Passover, I think it’s a pretty dumb-ass story to throw a holiday around.
What basically bugs me is the whole giving thanks part of it. See, the point of the Seder is retell the story of the Exodus and to give thanks for being freed from slavery. Who we give thanks to is, of course, the Big Guy, the Big Kahuna, the Master of Disaster, God. Or as we Jews like to say, G-d. See, we were slaves for a long, long time and finally, at some point, G-d came around and decided to save us. For this we give Him thanks. But should we be thanking Him?
According to the story, we were slaves for around 400 years. That’s a long fucking time to be slaves. Think about it. Four hundred years ago, what we now call America was still a bunch of colonies owned by European Empires and a bunch of doomed Native Americans. Four hundred years ago, there was no tv because electricity was about three centuries away from being invented and there were no toilets so everybody just dumped their shit either out the window or into the closest river. Four hundred years ago, people were wearing pantaloons and big huge fluffy collars and calling each other “thou” and “thee” and all sorts of other dumb things. In other words, that was a long, long time ago. And imagine being in a group of people who are enslaved for that period of time. That's an awful long period of time for a group of people to know nothing but waking up every day knowing nothing but being whipped by some guy in a loin cloth, carrying mortar and pistle and your back just so the Pharoah could have a place to keep his stuffed cats when he died
And I don’t even want to bring up the fact that He, in his infinite wisdom, let us become slaves in the first place. I mean, if he was really so great, couldn’t he of done something then? Couldn’t he of like, done some duex et machina magic type thingy and kept the Egyptians from capturing us in the first place? Couldn’t He of done something other than tell Jacob what was going to happen, something like maybe warm him or tell his sons that maybe they should go to another country?
I know, I know, God had his reasons. He even told Jacob what they were, that as a reward, He would give us His law. Which is, yes, kind of a compliment because it’s not like He gave the same offer to the Hittites or Babylonians. On the other hand, how much character building does a people need before we can handle His laws? Was being slaves for, say, 200 years not enough character building? If not, couldn’t he have given us Two of his Ten commandments, then given us some of the others every time some other punk-ass Empire came down to the Promised Land and kicked our butts? And he also gave us one more thing, He gave us the Promised Land- Israel. Something which has just been working out great for us.
In fact, in a way, the whole thing is kind of symbolic of what it means to be a Jew. Think about it. What other people have pretty much been bitch-slapped by history quite like us? What other group of people have had so much bad shit happen to them? Sure, there are other groups of people who have had bad runs of it- the Irish, the Africans, the Native Americans, but we’re talking of about 4,000 years of serious bad shit. The entire Old Testament is just one big huge chronology of all the times we’ve gotten our butts kicked. We were pretty much walked all over by every Empire that came to power, the Belgium of the Bible. There was, let’s see, The Hittites, the Babylonians, the Macedonians, the Egyptians, the Greeks, and the Assyrians, just to name a few. And then the Romans came and we pissed them off so much they chased us out of our own country. Which led to about 2000 years of being scapegoated and kicked around anytime the goyim felt like kicking someone around. There was the Inquisition, the Programs, the ghettos, the ritual slaughter around Easter, the raping and pillaging by soldiers on their way to the Crusades, and the Holocaust. And that doesn’t even include the thousands of years of just simple harassment and murder.
Yet, holiday after holiday, sabbath after sabbath, day after day, here we are, thanking God for all that He has given us. After all of this, we still thank Him for everything, kind of a religious philosophy of “thank you, sir, can I have another one?” If we were thrown onto a couch by a therapist and analyzed, we’d probably be told that as a collective religion we were either co-dependant on someone not quite deserving of it or told that we were enablers. Instead of thanking God, maybe we should be giving him the finger and telling Him to go pick one somebody else for a change.
But maybe that is the point. We’ve been around now for thousands of years, one of the world’s oldest religion and, along with the Greeks, the people who kick-started Western Civilization. And despite all of the shit we went through, all of the times people came and tried to beat us, humiliate us, knock us down, even try and eliminate us through gas chambers. We’re still here. And we’ve outlasted pretty much everyone who fucked with us. The Hittites and Assyrians? Gone. Babylonians? Gone. Greece and Rome? Nothing but a huge influence on great architecture, philosophy, art, and Toga parties. Torquamada? One of history’s great villians? The Czar? Loved so much his countrymen decided to take up one of history’s great dumb ideas. Hitler? Blew his brains out like a coward in a bunker with only his frumpy mistress around to watch the whole thing.
In fact, despite all of that, it’s probably the best time ever to be Jewish in our long, ugly history. We have our Promised Land back (for now), we’re pretty much free to be who we are in most of the world, and despite an occasional hiccup of anti-semitism, we’re pretty safe. Hell, we’re doing so good we’re finally free to do what we've always wanted to do– screw shiksas.
Maybe we should be giving thanks.
Apparently, here are some things that aren't Kosher for Passover:
Cheeseballs
Pez
Vodka
Cat food
Mystik Fruit juice
Bugles
This holiday would be so much easier if it wasn't for the whole suffering through the desert thing with nothing to eat. You'd figure too, after forty years in the desert, that they'd at least have run into a convienance store. It is the Middle East fer chrissakes...
Also tried to tell Baby-Sis that Pez was actually invented by the Egyptians. She didn't quite believe that they found a solid-gold Garfield dispenser buried in the tomb of the mighty Pharoah Haffenpepper. Oh well.
Cheeseballs
Pez
Vodka
Cat food
Mystik Fruit juice
Bugles
This holiday would be so much easier if it wasn't for the whole suffering through the desert thing with nothing to eat. You'd figure too, after forty years in the desert, that they'd at least have run into a convienance store. It is the Middle East fer chrissakes...
Also tried to tell Baby-Sis that Pez was actually invented by the Egyptians. She didn't quite believe that they found a solid-gold Garfield dispenser buried in the tomb of the mighty Pharoah Haffenpepper. Oh well.
Spending all morning sittting around with baby-sis watching cartoons on the Cartoon Network. Well, I'm not exaclty watching them as I'm spending my time doing much more adult activities, like reading the NY Times, the Washington Post, and searching for a recap of last night's "Real World" episode since daddy stayed up past his bed time and I missed the entire Keri/Kyle brouhaha. But it's on in the background and I can't help notice what Baby-Sis is watching. For some strange reason, they're showing a lot of classic characters, like Tom & Jerry, but with a twist. Instead of showing the old, classic cartoons, they're showing all these new shows, one's in which all the main, classic characters have kids and the shows are about the kids. So, I've seen the Kids of Tom & Jerry. And the Flintstones as kids. Even Captain Cavemen and his son (Captain Caveman!). And, not suprisingly, they're all pretty bad.
I know, I know, new audiences, new generation, new age and all that crap, but still, everytime I see one of these shows, all I can think of is Poochy the Dog.
Besides, we all know Fred & Wilma met when they were much older and to say they all knew each other as kids is just so wrong. Is anything sacred?
I know, I know, new audiences, new generation, new age and all that crap, but still, everytime I see one of these shows, all I can think of is Poochy the Dog.
Besides, we all know Fred & Wilma met when they were much older and to say they all knew each other as kids is just so wrong. Is anything sacred?
Tuesday, March 26, 2002
Had more to post about my adventures back east, but not now. Bad tidings from the Left Coast and even here, safe in the cozy, cushy cocoon of a world that is my dad's house, the suckiness of everything has crept in. And to make matters worse, I saw on the news that Celine Dion has a new album coming out.
The horror, the horror.....
Tune in tomorrow for the big Passover blog
The horror, the horror.....
Tune in tomorrow for the big Passover blog
Okay, let's start from the very beginning, a very good place to start....
Flew on an airplane for the first time since 9/11. I did notice some differences in everything, but it wasn't nearly as major as I thought it would be. I half expected a strip-search and security interview involving an FBI psychological profiler holding up rorschach tests. None of that happened. I did notice that some people did get taken out of the line and had their luggage searched. One lady had a bunch of things tied up in boxes and the security guard made her take a knife and open up every single one of the boxes. I know racial profiling is bad (bad!) and all, but I really don't see an 80-pound twentysomething Asian woman as a huge security risk. Nor the late thirties female Business executive whose bags were also looked through.
They did ask me the usual questions at the counter, you know the "did your suitecase ever leave your sight?" questions. I always thought those questions were really dumb. Have they ever actually caught someone with those questions? Like has any terrorist slipped up ("yes, someone else packed my suitcase, errr, I mean no.....") and a major disaster averted? And even if someone slipped up, would the person at the counter even notice? They must ask that question a million times a day and everyone says the same thing, so I'm sure they're so used to the same answer that they wouldn't even notice if you said something like "you know, I did put in my suitcase some package that some Middle-Eastern dude in a "I Heart Osama" t-shirt gave me, but I didn't think much of it at the time." And what would happen if you did say something like that? Would red-alarms go off everywhere and Special Ops agents quickly repel down from the ceiling like in a James Bond flick?
Few quick things about the flight-
-Some lady did one of the most amazing things I have ever seen. She talked on the cell phone from the moment she stepped into the airport all the way up to the security gate. She even talked while in line at the security gate. In fact, the only reason why she got off was because she got dinged as she went through the x-ray and had to the phone done so she could get zapped by the magic wand. Now, I'm not sure she needed to zapped by the magic wand, but if I was a security guard and saw someone on a cell phone for that long of a time, I think I'd stop them too and make them have to get zapped. If I was in any sort of bad mood, I think I'd even recommend a strip-search. It's the principal of the matter.
-There was a Middle-Eastern looking guy in front of me was going through the security gate who was wearing a baseball cap with a very large American flag on the front of it. Wonder how intentional that hat was....
-I wonder if you could still do an O.J. through the airport. No, not the murdering your wife and getting away with it thing, but the running through the airport at a very fast pace, hopping over all sorts of furniture and luggage on a way to make a flight thing. Somehow, I think that if you did that now, you'd get chased down by the beer bellied, 50 year old National Guardsmen who are everywhere in an attempt to make you feel safer that due to the presence of the 50 year old beer bellied National Guardsman.
-Jet Blue flat out rocks. Fly it whenever you can. Whoever runs United should fly it too to find out why everyone in the world hates them.
Flew on an airplane for the first time since 9/11. I did notice some differences in everything, but it wasn't nearly as major as I thought it would be. I half expected a strip-search and security interview involving an FBI psychological profiler holding up rorschach tests. None of that happened. I did notice that some people did get taken out of the line and had their luggage searched. One lady had a bunch of things tied up in boxes and the security guard made her take a knife and open up every single one of the boxes. I know racial profiling is bad (bad!) and all, but I really don't see an 80-pound twentysomething Asian woman as a huge security risk. Nor the late thirties female Business executive whose bags were also looked through.
They did ask me the usual questions at the counter, you know the "did your suitecase ever leave your sight?" questions. I always thought those questions were really dumb. Have they ever actually caught someone with those questions? Like has any terrorist slipped up ("yes, someone else packed my suitcase, errr, I mean no.....") and a major disaster averted? And even if someone slipped up, would the person at the counter even notice? They must ask that question a million times a day and everyone says the same thing, so I'm sure they're so used to the same answer that they wouldn't even notice if you said something like "you know, I did put in my suitcase some package that some Middle-Eastern dude in a "I Heart Osama" t-shirt gave me, but I didn't think much of it at the time." And what would happen if you did say something like that? Would red-alarms go off everywhere and Special Ops agents quickly repel down from the ceiling like in a James Bond flick?
Few quick things about the flight-
-Some lady did one of the most amazing things I have ever seen. She talked on the cell phone from the moment she stepped into the airport all the way up to the security gate. She even talked while in line at the security gate. In fact, the only reason why she got off was because she got dinged as she went through the x-ray and had to the phone done so she could get zapped by the magic wand. Now, I'm not sure she needed to zapped by the magic wand, but if I was a security guard and saw someone on a cell phone for that long of a time, I think I'd stop them too and make them have to get zapped. If I was in any sort of bad mood, I think I'd even recommend a strip-search. It's the principal of the matter.
-There was a Middle-Eastern looking guy in front of me was going through the security gate who was wearing a baseball cap with a very large American flag on the front of it. Wonder how intentional that hat was....
-I wonder if you could still do an O.J. through the airport. No, not the murdering your wife and getting away with it thing, but the running through the airport at a very fast pace, hopping over all sorts of furniture and luggage on a way to make a flight thing. Somehow, I think that if you did that now, you'd get chased down by the beer bellied, 50 year old National Guardsmen who are everywhere in an attempt to make you feel safer that due to the presence of the 50 year old beer bellied National Guardsman.
-Jet Blue flat out rocks. Fly it whenever you can. Whoever runs United should fly it too to find out why everyone in the world hates them.
Monday, March 25, 2002
We're broadcasting tonight from, eh, Baltimore. That about describes the place.
Here's some random notes from last night's Oscar telecast....
-What happened to Jennifer Connelly's breasts? Her breasts used to be a work of arc, a modern marvel, but last night they seemed to have disapeared. Is it cause she's looking like she's been doing the Ally McBeal diet lately? Is it because now that she's a serious actress, she has to lose them? Has she been using the Britney Spears Method of Breast-Size Adjustment? And now that she won an Oscar, I guess we won't be seeing her taking it up the ass with a double sided dildo anymore.
-Wouldn't it of been great if John Nash would of been allowed to give a speech when "A Beautiful Mind" won so he could of thanked the evil Jew Bastard who wrote the script for the movie?
-Loved it when they cut to Russell Crowe after they had announced that Denzel had won and Russell only started clapping when he realized that the cameras were on him.
-Next year, they should just give the whole Oscars to Ben Stiller and Owen Wilson. They were easily the best part of the Oscar's. They could remake "Schindler's List" and turn it into a laugh riot.
-Wonder what David Lynch was thinking when he lost out to Richie Cunningham for best picture. I mean, here's a guy who does brilliant, original, extremely fucked-up films and he keeps losing to completely unoriginal hack directors. I wouldn't be suprised if in his next flick, Lynch has a scene where a balding, red-headed adult child-star gets brutally murdered by a dancing dwarf.
-What the hell was Gwyneth thinking?
-Whoopi Goldberg annoys me for a lot of reasons. During the Oscars, she always annoyce me that much more because she spends most of the night making wanna be hip black jokes to an audience that's about 80% white and a viewing audience that's probably about 75% white. Either she thinks it's the biggest joke in the world, like the mostly black wedding band that played at my cousin's wedding and led the extremely white & Jewish crowd through a version of "Play that Funky Music White Boy," or it's just shtick.
-Does Judi Dench, Helen Mirren and Kate Winslet have to be nominated every year? If Judi Dench showed up in "Blade II" I'd bet she'd still get nominated.
-So Randy Newman finally won after 16 nominations. His tux was kind of lame, which made me wonder if after all these years, he's just given up on the idea of winning and just picks up whatever's around. Wonder if he even has a speech prepared anymore.
-Which brings up the whole "best song" category. What the fuck's up with that? Has any song that's even been nominated actually been a hit or listened to by more than five people? Did you even know that there was a single from "Lord of the Rings?" And I love the modern pop song from a movie about Pearl Harbor. Real authentic. Any one ever hear of these songs? I mean, have you ever seen someone go on TRL Live and say something like "I wanna hear that Enya song from Lord of the Rings because that movie rocked and I just wanna say hi to all my dawgs in the Bronx, whooo!!!!!!!!"
-And if I sent Sting $50 bucks, will he perform in my apartment? I'm sure Elton would do it for $100.
-As for Halle Berry's speech, whatever. As I heard someone say on tv, her winning the Oscar doesn't exactly rank up there with Rosa Parks and the "I Have a Dream Speech" in terms of the fight for racial equality. I don't, however, think that a lot of the members of the academy have seen "It's all About the Benjamins".
-And finally, I watched the show on the East Coast (here's a little shout-out to James and Chris for hosting me) instead of in SF. It's a whole other experience watching it on the East Coast because it's over at like 1. In SF, it's over early enough that you'll actually get to bed at a reasonable hour. In the East Coast, it'll never happen. I actually remember when I lived in the East Coast, I never actually made it to the end of the Oscars.
Have to say that this year's show was kind of boring because although I loved "Lord of the Rings" I knew it wouldn't win and wasn't that fired up about it It wasn't like the Oscar's in '94 when you had to watch because just out of the hope that "Pulp Fiction" would vanquish "Forrest Gump" because it really was a battle between the forces of good vs. the forces of evil. Alas, the forces of evil truimphed and "Forrest Gump" won. And is there anyone around who thinks "The English Patient" is a better movie than "Fargo?"
Here's some random notes from last night's Oscar telecast....
-What happened to Jennifer Connelly's breasts? Her breasts used to be a work of arc, a modern marvel, but last night they seemed to have disapeared. Is it cause she's looking like she's been doing the Ally McBeal diet lately? Is it because now that she's a serious actress, she has to lose them? Has she been using the Britney Spears Method of Breast-Size Adjustment? And now that she won an Oscar, I guess we won't be seeing her taking it up the ass with a double sided dildo anymore.
-Wouldn't it of been great if John Nash would of been allowed to give a speech when "A Beautiful Mind" won so he could of thanked the evil Jew Bastard who wrote the script for the movie?
-Loved it when they cut to Russell Crowe after they had announced that Denzel had won and Russell only started clapping when he realized that the cameras were on him.
-Next year, they should just give the whole Oscars to Ben Stiller and Owen Wilson. They were easily the best part of the Oscar's. They could remake "Schindler's List" and turn it into a laugh riot.
-Wonder what David Lynch was thinking when he lost out to Richie Cunningham for best picture. I mean, here's a guy who does brilliant, original, extremely fucked-up films and he keeps losing to completely unoriginal hack directors. I wouldn't be suprised if in his next flick, Lynch has a scene where a balding, red-headed adult child-star gets brutally murdered by a dancing dwarf.
-What the hell was Gwyneth thinking?
-Whoopi Goldberg annoys me for a lot of reasons. During the Oscars, she always annoyce me that much more because she spends most of the night making wanna be hip black jokes to an audience that's about 80% white and a viewing audience that's probably about 75% white. Either she thinks it's the biggest joke in the world, like the mostly black wedding band that played at my cousin's wedding and led the extremely white & Jewish crowd through a version of "Play that Funky Music White Boy," or it's just shtick.
-Does Judi Dench, Helen Mirren and Kate Winslet have to be nominated every year? If Judi Dench showed up in "Blade II" I'd bet she'd still get nominated.
-So Randy Newman finally won after 16 nominations. His tux was kind of lame, which made me wonder if after all these years, he's just given up on the idea of winning and just picks up whatever's around. Wonder if he even has a speech prepared anymore.
-Which brings up the whole "best song" category. What the fuck's up with that? Has any song that's even been nominated actually been a hit or listened to by more than five people? Did you even know that there was a single from "Lord of the Rings?" And I love the modern pop song from a movie about Pearl Harbor. Real authentic. Any one ever hear of these songs? I mean, have you ever seen someone go on TRL Live and say something like "I wanna hear that Enya song from Lord of the Rings because that movie rocked and I just wanna say hi to all my dawgs in the Bronx, whooo!!!!!!!!"
-And if I sent Sting $50 bucks, will he perform in my apartment? I'm sure Elton would do it for $100.
-As for Halle Berry's speech, whatever. As I heard someone say on tv, her winning the Oscar doesn't exactly rank up there with Rosa Parks and the "I Have a Dream Speech" in terms of the fight for racial equality. I don't, however, think that a lot of the members of the academy have seen "It's all About the Benjamins".
-And finally, I watched the show on the East Coast (here's a little shout-out to James and Chris for hosting me) instead of in SF. It's a whole other experience watching it on the East Coast because it's over at like 1. In SF, it's over early enough that you'll actually get to bed at a reasonable hour. In the East Coast, it'll never happen. I actually remember when I lived in the East Coast, I never actually made it to the end of the Oscars.
Have to say that this year's show was kind of boring because although I loved "Lord of the Rings" I knew it wouldn't win and wasn't that fired up about it It wasn't like the Oscar's in '94 when you had to watch because just out of the hope that "Pulp Fiction" would vanquish "Forrest Gump" because it really was a battle between the forces of good vs. the forces of evil. Alas, the forces of evil truimphed and "Forrest Gump" won. And is there anyone around who thinks "The English Patient" is a better movie than "Fargo?"
Tuesday, March 19, 2002
So, umm, yeah, I haven't been writing in awhile. Sorry. What can I say, the past couple of weeks have been total shit sandwich. And I had so much to say too. I wanted to write about the crazy guy on the bus who chased me off after he started talking about what his counselor was telling him about tough love. And more musings on the temping life- like am I dick for being anti-social because I know I'm out of there in a couple weeks? And does being able to type really fast impress chicks? I had even mulled a commentary about how entertaining the Dog Mauling trial's been, as well as a complete break-down of a Pentagon press briefing that proves that they're just pulling shit out of their asses and spending millions of dollars blowing up rocks while Osama's off sipping Long Island Ice Teas in some estate in Pakistan. Not to mention my strange obsession with Emily on "The Real World/Road Rules Challenge."
Oh well.
Anyways, off to the east coast for a week and a half so I won't be posting for awhile (which should be a disappointment to the two or three people who are actually checking this site out for more than a couple seconds- hi Chris, Jen and Sammy!). I'll try to put something up next week or so when I get settled in and have nothing else to do while stuck in the House With No Bread prepping up for a Very Special Episode of the Dysfunctional Family's Passover (sorry, no Snoopy Dance this year). Should have some pretty interesting tid-bits to come too. Got the big wedding on Saturday (I so love New Jersey Jews), checking out Ground Zero on Sunday, the big family "I'm the better Jew" pissing contest that'll be the Passover Seder (starring my brother the Modern Orthodox Jewish Studies Professor, my dad the born-again Conservative Jew, my eight year old wunderkind little sis whose been going to Jewish day school since she was three, my dad's shiksa wife, and can-we-please-cut-to-the-chase-cause-all-I-want-to-do-is-eat-some-brisket me), and partying down in the Big Apple and D.C. So we'll see what we can do. As an added bonus, I was gonna publish my essay on why Passover is a dumb-ass holiday.
Welcome to the Jungle, Will Brewster.
Oh well.
Anyways, off to the east coast for a week and a half so I won't be posting for awhile (which should be a disappointment to the two or three people who are actually checking this site out for more than a couple seconds- hi Chris, Jen and Sammy!). I'll try to put something up next week or so when I get settled in and have nothing else to do while stuck in the House With No Bread prepping up for a Very Special Episode of the Dysfunctional Family's Passover (sorry, no Snoopy Dance this year). Should have some pretty interesting tid-bits to come too. Got the big wedding on Saturday (I so love New Jersey Jews), checking out Ground Zero on Sunday, the big family "I'm the better Jew" pissing contest that'll be the Passover Seder (starring my brother the Modern Orthodox Jewish Studies Professor, my dad the born-again Conservative Jew, my eight year old wunderkind little sis whose been going to Jewish day school since she was three, my dad's shiksa wife, and can-we-please-cut-to-the-chase-cause-all-I-want-to-do-is-eat-some-brisket me), and partying down in the Big Apple and D.C. So we'll see what we can do. As an added bonus, I was gonna publish my essay on why Passover is a dumb-ass holiday.
Welcome to the Jungle, Will Brewster.
Saturday, March 16, 2002
Profiles in Courage-
These are actual quotes by U.S. Senators explaining why they are voting down a proposal to set a 36-mile-per gallon standard for SUV's, one that is supposed to become law fifteen years from now. That's fifteen years from now. 15.
These come from the S.F. Chronicle and the Washington Post
Sen Barbara Mikulski D-MD (one of the supposed good guys):
Mothers want to be in the functional civilian equivalent of a Humvee" because of road rage and need large cars because "some children have backpacks as large as a Marine going off to Afghanistan," she said.
Sen. Zell Miller (D) Georgia (another supposed good guy):
....made an impassioned plea for "farmers and our rural families, our carpenters, our plumbers, our painters, our electricians -- those small businesses who rely on the pickup truck," describing the "hardworking people with calloused hands . . . the forgotten Americans who work from dawn to dark and then turn up lights on their pickups to work another hour."
And Sen. Zell Miller (D-Ga.) believes the legislation should at least make an exception for pickups, which he described as the "think tank of rural America" because "more problems have been solved on the tailgates of pickup trucks after a long day's work than have been solved anywhere."
And from noted intellectual, Sen. Minority (thank God) leader Trent Lott:
Lott said the CAFE measure would rob him of quality time with his grandchildren because he likes "them to be able to ride in the same vehicle with me."
Holding up a large photograph of a tiny DaimlerChrysler micro-car, Lott declared that if fuel economy standards were raised, "you're going to drive the purple people eater here. I don't want every American to have to drive this car"
"I was over (in Europe), and I saw these cars," Lott said. "I saw people pick them up and move them to another parking space. I also wondered how I was going to get my 6-foot-2-inch frame into one of these."
Didn't someone once say "ask not what this country can do for you, but for what you can do for this country?" Apparently, paying a little bit more at the gas pumps might be asking a bit too much out of us.
These are actual quotes by U.S. Senators explaining why they are voting down a proposal to set a 36-mile-per gallon standard for SUV's, one that is supposed to become law fifteen years from now. That's fifteen years from now. 15.
These come from the S.F. Chronicle and the Washington Post
Sen Barbara Mikulski D-MD (one of the supposed good guys):
Mothers want to be in the functional civilian equivalent of a Humvee" because of road rage and need large cars because "some children have backpacks as large as a Marine going off to Afghanistan," she said.
Sen. Zell Miller (D) Georgia (another supposed good guy):
....made an impassioned plea for "farmers and our rural families, our carpenters, our plumbers, our painters, our electricians -- those small businesses who rely on the pickup truck," describing the "hardworking people with calloused hands . . . the forgotten Americans who work from dawn to dark and then turn up lights on their pickups to work another hour."
And Sen. Zell Miller (D-Ga.) believes the legislation should at least make an exception for pickups, which he described as the "think tank of rural America" because "more problems have been solved on the tailgates of pickup trucks after a long day's work than have been solved anywhere."
And from noted intellectual, Sen. Minority (thank God) leader Trent Lott:
Lott said the CAFE measure would rob him of quality time with his grandchildren because he likes "them to be able to ride in the same vehicle with me."
Holding up a large photograph of a tiny DaimlerChrysler micro-car, Lott declared that if fuel economy standards were raised, "you're going to drive the purple people eater here. I don't want every American to have to drive this car"
"I was over (in Europe), and I saw these cars," Lott said. "I saw people pick them up and move them to another parking space. I also wondered how I was going to get my 6-foot-2-inch frame into one of these."
Didn't someone once say "ask not what this country can do for you, but for what you can do for this country?" Apparently, paying a little bit more at the gas pumps might be asking a bit too much out of us.
Tuesday, March 12, 2002
Damn, what a night. First some Buffy goodness and then "Real World" throws us NO David's "Come on Be My Baby Tonight." And can Cara be more of a ho? Jesus frickin Christ.
Anyways, back on topic-
So I'm going through this horrible, nasty bit of bad luck. Total born on a bad sign, only thing I can do is sing the blues type of bad luck. Been going through for it for, well, pretty much the entire 21st Century, although it's been especially pretty ugly for the past year or so. I actually go through these spells every once in awhile. Sometimes I go through it for a day or two, sometimes for a week, and sometimes for a long, long time. This has been one of the longest spells I've been on, though.
During these spells, everything I do just goes wrong. Everything I touch falls apart, everything I want doesn't happen, everything I go near collapses. Usually in totally awful, dispiriting and heartbreaking ways. And that doesn't even include all the stuff that I don't expect, but just happens. Like blowing out a back. Or getting evicted at the same time as getting laid off. Or gettting assaulted by half the Santa Barbara high school football team.
Today, I got a couple of messages from some random woman in New Jersey. Apparently, she was trying to get amortgage for a house and upong giving the bank her credit card report, she was turned down. Turns out the company that issued the report smushed her husband's credit card report with mine, so they turned her down for having too much credit out there.
For some reason, I think it's kind of funny. My luck is so bad that I'm capable of sucking other people down into it. I'm like a black hole of bad luck. It's happened before too. It's so bad, in fact, that I think that whenever I get in one of these jags, I should just be sent to a leper colony or something, some place totally far away from everyone and anyone so I can't do any damage to anyone but myself. Once, when I was a kid and my parents had just gotten divorced, my dad was going to take my brother and I to London- our first trip abroad- as a way of making up for all the whole divorce thing. The day before we were supposed to go, Three Mile Island blew and my dad, who was a reporter, had to cancel the trip because he had to go cover the story. There's still a part of me that think's it's all somehow my fault.
Anyways, back on topic-
So I'm going through this horrible, nasty bit of bad luck. Total born on a bad sign, only thing I can do is sing the blues type of bad luck. Been going through for it for, well, pretty much the entire 21st Century, although it's been especially pretty ugly for the past year or so. I actually go through these spells every once in awhile. Sometimes I go through it for a day or two, sometimes for a week, and sometimes for a long, long time. This has been one of the longest spells I've been on, though.
During these spells, everything I do just goes wrong. Everything I touch falls apart, everything I want doesn't happen, everything I go near collapses. Usually in totally awful, dispiriting and heartbreaking ways. And that doesn't even include all the stuff that I don't expect, but just happens. Like blowing out a back. Or getting evicted at the same time as getting laid off. Or gettting assaulted by half the Santa Barbara high school football team.
Today, I got a couple of messages from some random woman in New Jersey. Apparently, she was trying to get amortgage for a house and upong giving the bank her credit card report, she was turned down. Turns out the company that issued the report smushed her husband's credit card report with mine, so they turned her down for having too much credit out there.
For some reason, I think it's kind of funny. My luck is so bad that I'm capable of sucking other people down into it. I'm like a black hole of bad luck. It's happened before too. It's so bad, in fact, that I think that whenever I get in one of these jags, I should just be sent to a leper colony or something, some place totally far away from everyone and anyone so I can't do any damage to anyone but myself. Once, when I was a kid and my parents had just gotten divorced, my dad was going to take my brother and I to London- our first trip abroad- as a way of making up for all the whole divorce thing. The day before we were supposed to go, Three Mile Island blew and my dad, who was a reporter, had to cancel the trip because he had to go cover the story. There's still a part of me that think's it's all somehow my fault.
When I was younger, so much younger than today, I did crappy data-entry Temp jobs all the time. I didn't mind it back then, even kind of got into the zen of it all. I can't, however, do it anymore. Even though I like the place where I work and it's a totally kick-back environment, I'm going fucking crazy typing away all day. It's so damn boring that the only way I think I could deal with it is to just take thorazine all day. When I try to think about why I could handle boring data-entry jobs before, the only thing I can come up with is the fact that I was pretty much partying constantly back then and was so hungover from it that I didn't mind the job. My problem now, I guess, is that I'm just not partying anymore. So, I guess if I'm gonna have to keep on doing temp jobs, I'm gonna have to start partying.
Speaking of work, I love all the recent stories lately about how the Recession supposedly didn't happen. I guess all these profressors, government officials, and economists at think tanks crunched some numbers, built some spread sheets, and carried over a few numbers and decided that, hey, the economy's doing just fine- sorry, nothing to see here. Oh yeah? Then why can't I fucking get a job? And why do I know so many people who are still laid off?
See, all those people have jobs. The government officials got put in by the President, so they got a job for at least another three years. The profressors are all tenured so they're not going anywhere, and all the economists at the various Think Tanks are just living off the fat of the land (what is a Think Tank anyways? How do I get a job with one of them? I'd love that job, just sitting around thinking all day. Give me a bong hit and some Radiohead and I'll think with the best of them). They all have jobs. They all don't have to worry about paying rent, looking for work, or doing data entry all day. It's easy for them to say what they said.
Here's what I think- next time we're in a supposed downturn, all those economists should be laid off, fired, downsized. Whatever. See how they like it. Then, they should have to go out and find a job. When that happens, then they can say the recession is over. In the meantime, shut the fuck up.
Speaking of work, I love all the recent stories lately about how the Recession supposedly didn't happen. I guess all these profressors, government officials, and economists at think tanks crunched some numbers, built some spread sheets, and carried over a few numbers and decided that, hey, the economy's doing just fine- sorry, nothing to see here. Oh yeah? Then why can't I fucking get a job? And why do I know so many people who are still laid off?
See, all those people have jobs. The government officials got put in by the President, so they got a job for at least another three years. The profressors are all tenured so they're not going anywhere, and all the economists at the various Think Tanks are just living off the fat of the land (what is a Think Tank anyways? How do I get a job with one of them? I'd love that job, just sitting around thinking all day. Give me a bong hit and some Radiohead and I'll think with the best of them). They all have jobs. They all don't have to worry about paying rent, looking for work, or doing data entry all day. It's easy for them to say what they said.
Here's what I think- next time we're in a supposed downturn, all those economists should be laid off, fired, downsized. Whatever. See how they like it. Then, they should have to go out and find a job. When that happens, then they can say the recession is over. In the meantime, shut the fuck up.
Monday, March 11, 2002
I'm back. Sorry. Had another bad bout of insomnia and if there's anything that'll kill the bloggin urge, it's no sleep. You know what the worst thing about insomnia is, well, besides the whole not sleeping thing and the praying to every god you know of to let you get a chance to sleep ("umm, Ganesh. I know we don't talk much and I know I'm Jewish, but if you let me get a few hours of sleep, I'll think about worshipping you. And I won't eat meat for a couple of months. I swear. Well, unless, of course it's a Double Double at In N' Out Burger, but could you blame me?)? It's when you decide to watch some tv to try and bore yourself enough to actually get some sleep and instead get hooked into a movie and you find yourself having a long, internal debate about whether it's better to get some sleep or to finish watching the movie. Last summer, during another really bad bout of insomnia, I turned on the tv only to discover "The Great Escape" was on. Great, great movie, but it's like four hours long. I tried and I tried and I tried, but finally gave up around 4:30 in the morning, just as everyone had made the great escape. Saturday night I turned on the tv around 2 and got hooked into that HBO movie "The Rat Pack," the movie about, well, the Rat Pack (duh). Watched about an hour of it, then decide to try to sleep. Wrong decision. Not only did I not get any sleep, but the movie was just getting good. JFK just became President, the mafia was getting pissed and somebody was about to nail Marilyn.
So yeah, I watched "9/11" last night. How could you not? It's the ultimate in Reality TV. It's Reality Disaster TV. It's like the "Towering Inferno," but real. All it was missing was the three way lesbian cat fight from last week's "The Real World" (cops show upto break up this week's fight!). In fact, I was thinking that since everybody complains about how much "Big Brother" sucks, they should just have a bunch of terrorists take over the house. Instead of somebody getting kicked out, the terrorists would just shoot them. Then, at the end, when there's like four people left, the terrorists can blow up the house and the people would try and escape. That would be pretty cool.
Oh, and it cracked me up when Robert DeNiro introduced himself at the start of the show. Who the hell doesn't know he's Robert De Niro?
So yeah, I watched "9/11" last night. How could you not? It's the ultimate in Reality TV. It's Reality Disaster TV. It's like the "Towering Inferno," but real. All it was missing was the three way lesbian cat fight from last week's "The Real World" (cops show upto break up this week's fight!). In fact, I was thinking that since everybody complains about how much "Big Brother" sucks, they should just have a bunch of terrorists take over the house. Instead of somebody getting kicked out, the terrorists would just shoot them. Then, at the end, when there's like four people left, the terrorists can blow up the house and the people would try and escape. That would be pretty cool.
Oh, and it cracked me up when Robert DeNiro introduced himself at the start of the show. Who the hell doesn't know he's Robert De Niro?
Thursday, March 07, 2002
Okay, this was written on sunday about what happened to me on saturday night and I didn't want to post it until it got all polished up, but I never fully polished it up and I've been too fricken' tired and dealing with too many other things, so I'm posting what I have:
I wanted to right about what a great night I had last night. About how I had one of those "only in San Francisco" type evenings, the type of evening into which you tap into the madcap, crazy energy of the city that powers it like a wellspring. The kind of night where S.F reveals it's true nature to you and lets it's freak flag fly. The kind of night that makes me remember once again why I fell madly in love with this city and why it's felt more of a home to me than any other place I've lived.
But I can't really do it. And it's all because of you.
I went to see "the Donna's" last night at Bimbo's. They played as part of "NoisePop," the week long SF music-fest, indie-rock lover's SF Mardi Gras. I love "The Donna's." , pure, 100%, uncut, blissful rawk n' roll, all played by four chicks a few years out of Palie High. I've seen them before and they put on a great, great show and I've been looking forward to this show for weeks. It's been another, gut-wrenching roller coaster of a week, which, coming after several other gut-wrenching, roller coasters of a week, I really needed some good, not so clean, drunken fun.
I was gonna write about what happened, the craziness of the night. Of the cab driver who picked me up and upon hearing who I was gonna see, decided I passed some sort of personal test and was rewarded by "Van Halen" cranked to all decibels. And about how the cab-driver got me into a discussion about the current state of suckiness that is radio and kept on making jokes about doing too many drugs as he buzzed through the city at way too fast speeds.
Then there was the bar I met my friends at, a pseudo-Irish sports bar that was neither that great of an Irish bar or that great of a sports bar. It was also completely run by Indians, which explained why the pub menu mainly featured Tandoori style Indian food (written, of course, with the pseudo gaelic font every fake Irish pub has to use). And how on the way to the outdoor patio to get a breath of fresh air, we saw a guy all bloodied up and surrounded by broken glass, the air hockey table sprayed with blood. Nobody saw what happened and nobody heard anything, but it looked pretty bad.
Onto Bimbo's, a great, old fashioned club and one of my favorites. The first opening band we saw was kind of generic, hipster band with wanna be mid-60's British rock stars attitude, like so many bands are these days. But they were fun and entertaining and my buzz was achieving perfection, that perfect mixture of happiness, looseness and woo-hoo. And then the Donnas came out, full blazed rocking. I want to write about what a great show it was, about Donna F's screechy in-between song Michael Jackson jokes or Donna C , the drummer's, Animal impression- all flailing hair and arms- and how disappointed I was that Donna R. had given up her sleeky supermodel look for a Joan Jett thing and how much cooler it was that all that glorious guitar noise was coming out of someone looking like she had just walked out of an ad in Cosmo instead of, well, someone looking like Joan Jett.
Finally, there was ending of the night, the ride home smoking a joint and bopping to "Straight Out of Compton." Of pulling aside another car full of kids passing a bowl and giving them a smilke and a nod. And coming home to find "Planet of the Apes" on HBO and turning into it just in time to hear Chuck say both "Get your stinking paws off me, you damn dirty apes" and "it's a madhouse, a madhouse!"
It should have been a great night, but it wasn't. It should have been the kind of night that would jar everything back into it's right place for a few days. But it wasn't. And it's because of you. Because of all the assholes who had to ruin it for everyone.
There was the big beefy guys who started a moshing pit in the middle of the floor, despite the fact the Donna's are not moshing kind of band and besides, moshing is SO Woodstock '99 and even then it was so '91. And all the guys who waited for three songs into the set to make their move to the front of the stage, bumping and pushing their way past everyone who had gotten into position much earlier and had claimed their space. And the two drunk guys who were barely able to walk, yet tried to get to the front of the stage, bouncing off everyone they passed, as the only way to keep from falling over. Then there was the guy who tried to crowd surf, despite the obvious ambivalence of the crowd and so was dropped by his head onto the edge of the stage, getting an escort off the stage with a dazed look on his face that just read concussion. And he was quickly followed by another dude who ran on stage, trying to give Donna A a hug, but after missing Donna A due to a cool juke move by the singer, was quickly put into a bear hug by the big, beefy Samoan security guard.
But that wasn't even the worst of it. Not even close. That award I give to others. To the three guys who were so anxious to get to the mosh pit that they basically moshed their way into it, pushing and shoving everyone out of their way. Because of them, as I stood there completely oblivious to what was about to come, I got shoved a few feet in front of me. My friend got her drink spilled. The people in front of me were thrown a few feet to their right. And as I watched them go about, bodies being thrown and bumped everywhere, I had never more wanted to throw a punch in my life. It was only later that I discovered that the broken glass that I stood in came not from a glass being knocked out of someone's hands but because Lorena threw her glass at one of the guys head's. Sadly, she missed.
Why is it that with almost everything, there's always a few assholes who have to ruin it for everyone else? Why is it that despite the fact that most people were pretty cool and okay with things, a few dickheads have to fuck with other people? Why is it that some lame-o always has to put himself above everyone else? Fuckers.
Years ago, friends and I sat in a plaza in Florence. It was nighttime and we met in a square where at least a hundred other youths were gathering. People were drinking wine, singing songs, just hanging out. My friends and I sat there, soaking it all in, amazed that something like this could happen. Because in America, stuff like that doesn't happen. Because if you take a large group of teens/young adults and leave them alone, with booze, something bad will always happen. And that's why nothing like that happens here. Because of those few assholes who always have to ruin it for everyone else.
I wanted to right about what a great night I had last night. About how I had one of those "only in San Francisco" type evenings, the type of evening into which you tap into the madcap, crazy energy of the city that powers it like a wellspring. The kind of night where S.F reveals it's true nature to you and lets it's freak flag fly. The kind of night that makes me remember once again why I fell madly in love with this city and why it's felt more of a home to me than any other place I've lived.
But I can't really do it. And it's all because of you.
I went to see "the Donna's" last night at Bimbo's. They played as part of "NoisePop," the week long SF music-fest, indie-rock lover's SF Mardi Gras. I love "The Donna's." , pure, 100%, uncut, blissful rawk n' roll, all played by four chicks a few years out of Palie High. I've seen them before and they put on a great, great show and I've been looking forward to this show for weeks. It's been another, gut-wrenching roller coaster of a week, which, coming after several other gut-wrenching, roller coasters of a week, I really needed some good, not so clean, drunken fun.
I was gonna write about what happened, the craziness of the night. Of the cab driver who picked me up and upon hearing who I was gonna see, decided I passed some sort of personal test and was rewarded by "Van Halen" cranked to all decibels. And about how the cab-driver got me into a discussion about the current state of suckiness that is radio and kept on making jokes about doing too many drugs as he buzzed through the city at way too fast speeds.
Then there was the bar I met my friends at, a pseudo-Irish sports bar that was neither that great of an Irish bar or that great of a sports bar. It was also completely run by Indians, which explained why the pub menu mainly featured Tandoori style Indian food (written, of course, with the pseudo gaelic font every fake Irish pub has to use). And how on the way to the outdoor patio to get a breath of fresh air, we saw a guy all bloodied up and surrounded by broken glass, the air hockey table sprayed with blood. Nobody saw what happened and nobody heard anything, but it looked pretty bad.
Onto Bimbo's, a great, old fashioned club and one of my favorites. The first opening band we saw was kind of generic, hipster band with wanna be mid-60's British rock stars attitude, like so many bands are these days. But they were fun and entertaining and my buzz was achieving perfection, that perfect mixture of happiness, looseness and woo-hoo. And then the Donnas came out, full blazed rocking. I want to write about what a great show it was, about Donna F's screechy in-between song Michael Jackson jokes or Donna C , the drummer's, Animal impression- all flailing hair and arms- and how disappointed I was that Donna R. had given up her sleeky supermodel look for a Joan Jett thing and how much cooler it was that all that glorious guitar noise was coming out of someone looking like she had just walked out of an ad in Cosmo instead of, well, someone looking like Joan Jett.
Finally, there was ending of the night, the ride home smoking a joint and bopping to "Straight Out of Compton." Of pulling aside another car full of kids passing a bowl and giving them a smilke and a nod. And coming home to find "Planet of the Apes" on HBO and turning into it just in time to hear Chuck say both "Get your stinking paws off me, you damn dirty apes" and "it's a madhouse, a madhouse!"
It should have been a great night, but it wasn't. It should have been the kind of night that would jar everything back into it's right place for a few days. But it wasn't. And it's because of you. Because of all the assholes who had to ruin it for everyone.
There was the big beefy guys who started a moshing pit in the middle of the floor, despite the fact the Donna's are not moshing kind of band and besides, moshing is SO Woodstock '99 and even then it was so '91. And all the guys who waited for three songs into the set to make their move to the front of the stage, bumping and pushing their way past everyone who had gotten into position much earlier and had claimed their space. And the two drunk guys who were barely able to walk, yet tried to get to the front of the stage, bouncing off everyone they passed, as the only way to keep from falling over. Then there was the guy who tried to crowd surf, despite the obvious ambivalence of the crowd and so was dropped by his head onto the edge of the stage, getting an escort off the stage with a dazed look on his face that just read concussion. And he was quickly followed by another dude who ran on stage, trying to give Donna A a hug, but after missing Donna A due to a cool juke move by the singer, was quickly put into a bear hug by the big, beefy Samoan security guard.
But that wasn't even the worst of it. Not even close. That award I give to others. To the three guys who were so anxious to get to the mosh pit that they basically moshed their way into it, pushing and shoving everyone out of their way. Because of them, as I stood there completely oblivious to what was about to come, I got shoved a few feet in front of me. My friend got her drink spilled. The people in front of me were thrown a few feet to their right. And as I watched them go about, bodies being thrown and bumped everywhere, I had never more wanted to throw a punch in my life. It was only later that I discovered that the broken glass that I stood in came not from a glass being knocked out of someone's hands but because Lorena threw her glass at one of the guys head's. Sadly, she missed.
Why is it that with almost everything, there's always a few assholes who have to ruin it for everyone else? Why is it that despite the fact that most people were pretty cool and okay with things, a few dickheads have to fuck with other people? Why is it that some lame-o always has to put himself above everyone else? Fuckers.
Years ago, friends and I sat in a plaza in Florence. It was nighttime and we met in a square where at least a hundred other youths were gathering. People were drinking wine, singing songs, just hanging out. My friends and I sat there, soaking it all in, amazed that something like this could happen. Because in America, stuff like that doesn't happen. Because if you take a large group of teens/young adults and leave them alone, with booze, something bad will always happen. And that's why nothing like that happens here. Because of those few assholes who always have to ruin it for everyone else.
Sunday, March 03, 2002
With elections coming up, we here at Hoorayforanything.com have decided to do our patriotic duty and help you, the voter, figure out who and what to vote for. Because voting is the cornerstone of democracy and because we are the leading, most butt-kicking democracy in the history of the world, it behooves us all to get out and vote.
So, with that in mind, here is the Hoorayforanything.com Election Guide. Otherwise known as Maybe There Sometimes is a Damn Good Reason Why Nobody Votes. And for all you non-Californians out there, it's still pretty gosh darn funny (we hope). And relevant.
Here's the California Stuff:
Governor- I'm a Democrat and Gov. Davis is running unopposed. Nothing to vote for here. And as a Democrat, I can't really say I'm that thrilled to have to vote for Davis anyways.
Lt. Governor- Don't really know what they do, although I kind of think they're supposed to be like the Vice-President in that they fill in for the Governor if they, say, die or win the Presidency (I wonder then, if our current Lt. Governor is holed up with Dick Cheney somewhere). Actually, I remember they do have some importance in that once, when that evil Gov. Pete Wilson was out trying to run for President, the Democratic Lt. Governor (I think it was actually Davis) went around passing all these bills that Wilson had opposed. Which was pretty darn funny. Other than that, I don't really know what they do. So, we'll go with the Democrat here.
Attorney General- I think they're like the state equivalent of John Ashcroft, so we'll go with the Dem. here too. Have no idea who the guy running is, though. Still gotta vote for the Democrat.
Secretary of State- I know the Secretary of the State, on the national level, is the guy whose the leading Diplomat and represents us overseas. Is this what the California Secretary of State does? I know Berkeley and SF oftentimes decides to have a foreign policy, but does the state? Have no idea know what the Secretary of State does. As I look through the Voter Guide, I'm kind of thinking that a lot of government is like a lot of corporations or clubs, where they have tons of Vice-President's because that way everyone has a title. I think Secretary of State is that kind of position, a political title to give someone so he could put it on his resume when they run for Governor.
Treasurer- I think they're in charge of money and the budget. That's kind of important. Have no idea what a Democratic Treasurer would do over a Republican Treasurer, though. Just as long as they don't hire anyone from Anderson Accountaning, I'm fine with whomever. Besides, it's not like they set the budget or anything like that. I think it's kind of like being "Secretary of State" in that it's just another made up position so someone could put something on their resume.
Controller- What is the difference between a Controller and Treasurer? Don't know about this one either. You know, with these types of money-related positions, instead of running campaigns, maybe they should have all the candidates take a math test. Like have them sit down for a couple of hours and answer some word problems and accounting questions. That's probably the best way of choosing who to vote for. They could televise it too. Maybe play it up like the Olympics with all the drama and personal stories about how each candidate survived some sort of personal tragedy. That'll be a good way people could actually find out what the hell a Controller does too. Or, I know, just to liven things up, we can have it like that show "The Chair" and as each candidate tries to answer an accounting question, they throw all these flames at him in an attempt to rattle them.
Insurance Commissioner- Have no idea what these guys do either. Don't care. I wonder, though, whether Stephen/Lindsay are gonna be kicked off the RW/RR Challenge or will it be Miami Mike and Flora? I feel kind of bad for Stephen cause nobody seems to like him, but Miami Mike's a pretty funny guy. I wonder when he'll finally spill the beans about what happened in the shower with that ho waitress and Melissa. Melissa was definately the hottest women they've had on the Real World. A bit of a bitch, but still pretty fucking hot. Kari from this season, though, is definately my Real World girlfriend.
Superintendant of Public Instruction- The who of the what what? Is this the person in charge of Public Education? If so, that's kind of important. Whose running? The only guy I know of I know of because he runs all those commercials. Apparently he's for smaller classes and better education for kids. Makes sense to me.
Board of Equalization, District 1 - Have no fucking idea what they do either.
State Props- I fucking hate State Propositions. I think there one of main reasons why nobody votes anymore. There's way too many of them and none of them make any sense. Every year, the Voter's Guide is the same size as the yellow pages because of these suckers and about as exciting to read. And most of them are either created by a bunch of reactionary rednecks (see Prop. 187) or Big Business corporations that pretend they're not Big Business corporations only to pass legislation that benefits them.
Prop 40- Creates a bond that gives money to protect the environment. Sure. I'm always down with money to help the environment. Don't get the bond things, though. Every year, we vote on one or two bond issues and from what I understand, some bond is issued and viola, some thing gets tons more money. And it doesn't really cost us anything. If that's the case, I wonder, why don't we just issue a bond for everything. Don't collect taxes or anything, just finance everything with bonds. That way we'll have more money for the homeless, or for feeding the poor, or so I could afford Showtime as well as HBO and Cinemax.
Prop 41- Provides $200 million to update voting equipment. We have to vote on this? Duh. Don't we elect people to vote on things like this so we don't have to bothered with it? Isnt' that the point of a representative government? And can we trust the result since we don't have the updated voting equipment yet? Imagine the irony if the vote comes down to a few thousand votes and it all comes down to a bunch of hanging chads and a bunch of old folks in Palm Springs who accidentally voted for Pat Buchanan. That would be kind of funny.
Prop 42- Something to do with sales tax and transportation money. This sounds important and there's all of these commercials on the t.v making it seem like a no brainer. Which makes me think that there's got to be something more to it. And both the Chron and Bay Guardian say vote no. So there you go.
Prop 43- Requires every vote in an election to be counted. Again, do we have to actually vote on this? I do have a life, you know. I wonder who would vote against it? Is there somebody out there whose thinking "you know, I don't want every vote to count, I only want a few." Come to think of it, there's a whole bunch of people whose vote I don't want to count. Like people who are into the WWF. Or people who move into those John Kincaid style homes. Or people who still wear mullets. You know, this country would be a whole lot better if a lot of people didn't vote. So, put me down for a no.
Prop 44- Subjects Chiropractors to basic codes of professional conduct. And this is up for voting because……..
Prop 45- Pretty much pulls back term limit laws that were voted in during a previous election. Which is typical of a lot of propositions in that half of them are really just votes against previous propositions that won because somebody didn't like the result. Like Group A loses Proposition 666, so they regroup a few years, come up with some spiffy name like "the Committee That Loves Cute Puppies" and puts a Proposition on the ballot that nullifies Proposition 666. And it goes on and on and on and nothing every gets done. And it's why I don't sign petitions to get things on the ballot anymore. Think about it, all those people at Safeway are just doing it because they get paid by signature and most people just sign whatever gets put in front of them just to get the person to go away. And that's how we get things to vote for. Term limits are a really stupid idea anyways. If we didn't have them, we wouldn't have Willie Brown as our Mayor.
San Francisco Election-
Public Defender- The big one. This is the one everyone here is talking about, like the fate of the world depends on who wins this election. There seems to be four camps out there: there's people who'll vote against Kimiko Burton because she's John Burton's daughter, the people who'll vote for her because she's John Burton's daughter, the people who don't care who she is and tries to figure out who the better candidate is, and the people who couldn't care less. Let's put it this way. Both are decent lawyers and both would do a good job. It's not like either Burton or Adachi are either Johnny Cochrane nor are they like Nedra Ruiz, the attorney whose defending the Dog Mauling couple. And voting against someone because of their name is as stupid as voting for her because of her name. So, either way, whatever.
State Assembly- Another big one. The contest seems to be between someone who is very liberal vs. someone whose very, very liberal. It says a lot about SF that the Progressive's in the city think that Leno, the very liberal candidate, is a mushy liberal with unfortunate moderate tendencies, yet he's the one who tried to pass the bill allowing transexual city workers to get a sex change operation. Britt is favored by the Bay Guardian crowd because he's supposed to be more of a pure liberal, albeit one who also had a problem showing up for Board meetings when he was on the Board of Supervisors. Again, whoever wins, so what. They're both liberal, they're both Democrats- one's just a bit more liberal than the other. It's not like we're talking, say, Ted Kennedy vs. John Ashcroft for King of the World with this election.
Assessor- No idea what they do. I think they do something related to taxes. Again, does it really matter who wins? I mean, as long as they know what they're doing, they'll be fine. I couldn't do it, but then again, I'm not running for the position. Actually, I probably could do it a superfast computer and an Excel spreadsheet.
Democratic Central Committee- What the fucky do they do and why should we vote for them? This sounds kind of like the Soviet Union where people voted not for an actual government, but the party members who represented them. Who cares.
Superior Court, Seat Three & Superior Court Seat Ten- I know judicialships are really important, but you know, I'm unemployed and need to find a job. I might need surgery on my back and have to figure out how pay the rent this month. Plus, March Madness is about to begin and I have to work on my tourney picks. Like I have the time to read through which judge is which and who they are. Isn't the Judicial Branch supposed to be nominated by people in office anyways?
SF Ballot Measures-
Oh, who cares. This is usually the part of the election where I start voting based on patterns in the punch card. Like when I took the S.A.T's. You know, I'll go with all "no's" or kind of do some kind of cool, geometric pattern. I've even flipped a coin a couple of times at this part of the voting process, because I've been in the booth for about ten minutes and want to get the fuck out of there.
And that's why nobody really votes anymore.
So, with that in mind, here is the Hoorayforanything.com Election Guide. Otherwise known as Maybe There Sometimes is a Damn Good Reason Why Nobody Votes. And for all you non-Californians out there, it's still pretty gosh darn funny (we hope). And relevant.
Here's the California Stuff:
Governor- I'm a Democrat and Gov. Davis is running unopposed. Nothing to vote for here. And as a Democrat, I can't really say I'm that thrilled to have to vote for Davis anyways.
Lt. Governor- Don't really know what they do, although I kind of think they're supposed to be like the Vice-President in that they fill in for the Governor if they, say, die or win the Presidency (I wonder then, if our current Lt. Governor is holed up with Dick Cheney somewhere). Actually, I remember they do have some importance in that once, when that evil Gov. Pete Wilson was out trying to run for President, the Democratic Lt. Governor (I think it was actually Davis) went around passing all these bills that Wilson had opposed. Which was pretty darn funny. Other than that, I don't really know what they do. So, we'll go with the Democrat here.
Attorney General- I think they're like the state equivalent of John Ashcroft, so we'll go with the Dem. here too. Have no idea who the guy running is, though. Still gotta vote for the Democrat.
Secretary of State- I know the Secretary of the State, on the national level, is the guy whose the leading Diplomat and represents us overseas. Is this what the California Secretary of State does? I know Berkeley and SF oftentimes decides to have a foreign policy, but does the state? Have no idea know what the Secretary of State does. As I look through the Voter Guide, I'm kind of thinking that a lot of government is like a lot of corporations or clubs, where they have tons of Vice-President's because that way everyone has a title. I think Secretary of State is that kind of position, a political title to give someone so he could put it on his resume when they run for Governor.
Treasurer- I think they're in charge of money and the budget. That's kind of important. Have no idea what a Democratic Treasurer would do over a Republican Treasurer, though. Just as long as they don't hire anyone from Anderson Accountaning, I'm fine with whomever. Besides, it's not like they set the budget or anything like that. I think it's kind of like being "Secretary of State" in that it's just another made up position so someone could put something on their resume.
Controller- What is the difference between a Controller and Treasurer? Don't know about this one either. You know, with these types of money-related positions, instead of running campaigns, maybe they should have all the candidates take a math test. Like have them sit down for a couple of hours and answer some word problems and accounting questions. That's probably the best way of choosing who to vote for. They could televise it too. Maybe play it up like the Olympics with all the drama and personal stories about how each candidate survived some sort of personal tragedy. That'll be a good way people could actually find out what the hell a Controller does too. Or, I know, just to liven things up, we can have it like that show "The Chair" and as each candidate tries to answer an accounting question, they throw all these flames at him in an attempt to rattle them.
Insurance Commissioner- Have no idea what these guys do either. Don't care. I wonder, though, whether Stephen/Lindsay are gonna be kicked off the RW/RR Challenge or will it be Miami Mike and Flora? I feel kind of bad for Stephen cause nobody seems to like him, but Miami Mike's a pretty funny guy. I wonder when he'll finally spill the beans about what happened in the shower with that ho waitress and Melissa. Melissa was definately the hottest women they've had on the Real World. A bit of a bitch, but still pretty fucking hot. Kari from this season, though, is definately my Real World girlfriend.
Superintendant of Public Instruction- The who of the what what? Is this the person in charge of Public Education? If so, that's kind of important. Whose running? The only guy I know of I know of because he runs all those commercials. Apparently he's for smaller classes and better education for kids. Makes sense to me.
Board of Equalization, District 1 - Have no fucking idea what they do either.
State Props- I fucking hate State Propositions. I think there one of main reasons why nobody votes anymore. There's way too many of them and none of them make any sense. Every year, the Voter's Guide is the same size as the yellow pages because of these suckers and about as exciting to read. And most of them are either created by a bunch of reactionary rednecks (see Prop. 187) or Big Business corporations that pretend they're not Big Business corporations only to pass legislation that benefits them.
Prop 40- Creates a bond that gives money to protect the environment. Sure. I'm always down with money to help the environment. Don't get the bond things, though. Every year, we vote on one or two bond issues and from what I understand, some bond is issued and viola, some thing gets tons more money. And it doesn't really cost us anything. If that's the case, I wonder, why don't we just issue a bond for everything. Don't collect taxes or anything, just finance everything with bonds. That way we'll have more money for the homeless, or for feeding the poor, or so I could afford Showtime as well as HBO and Cinemax.
Prop 41- Provides $200 million to update voting equipment. We have to vote on this? Duh. Don't we elect people to vote on things like this so we don't have to bothered with it? Isnt' that the point of a representative government? And can we trust the result since we don't have the updated voting equipment yet? Imagine the irony if the vote comes down to a few thousand votes and it all comes down to a bunch of hanging chads and a bunch of old folks in Palm Springs who accidentally voted for Pat Buchanan. That would be kind of funny.
Prop 42- Something to do with sales tax and transportation money. This sounds important and there's all of these commercials on the t.v making it seem like a no brainer. Which makes me think that there's got to be something more to it. And both the Chron and Bay Guardian say vote no. So there you go.
Prop 43- Requires every vote in an election to be counted. Again, do we have to actually vote on this? I do have a life, you know. I wonder who would vote against it? Is there somebody out there whose thinking "you know, I don't want every vote to count, I only want a few." Come to think of it, there's a whole bunch of people whose vote I don't want to count. Like people who are into the WWF. Or people who move into those John Kincaid style homes. Or people who still wear mullets. You know, this country would be a whole lot better if a lot of people didn't vote. So, put me down for a no.
Prop 44- Subjects Chiropractors to basic codes of professional conduct. And this is up for voting because……..
Prop 45- Pretty much pulls back term limit laws that were voted in during a previous election. Which is typical of a lot of propositions in that half of them are really just votes against previous propositions that won because somebody didn't like the result. Like Group A loses Proposition 666, so they regroup a few years, come up with some spiffy name like "the Committee That Loves Cute Puppies" and puts a Proposition on the ballot that nullifies Proposition 666. And it goes on and on and on and nothing every gets done. And it's why I don't sign petitions to get things on the ballot anymore. Think about it, all those people at Safeway are just doing it because they get paid by signature and most people just sign whatever gets put in front of them just to get the person to go away. And that's how we get things to vote for. Term limits are a really stupid idea anyways. If we didn't have them, we wouldn't have Willie Brown as our Mayor.
San Francisco Election-
Public Defender- The big one. This is the one everyone here is talking about, like the fate of the world depends on who wins this election. There seems to be four camps out there: there's people who'll vote against Kimiko Burton because she's John Burton's daughter, the people who'll vote for her because she's John Burton's daughter, the people who don't care who she is and tries to figure out who the better candidate is, and the people who couldn't care less. Let's put it this way. Both are decent lawyers and both would do a good job. It's not like either Burton or Adachi are either Johnny Cochrane nor are they like Nedra Ruiz, the attorney whose defending the Dog Mauling couple. And voting against someone because of their name is as stupid as voting for her because of her name. So, either way, whatever.
State Assembly- Another big one. The contest seems to be between someone who is very liberal vs. someone whose very, very liberal. It says a lot about SF that the Progressive's in the city think that Leno, the very liberal candidate, is a mushy liberal with unfortunate moderate tendencies, yet he's the one who tried to pass the bill allowing transexual city workers to get a sex change operation. Britt is favored by the Bay Guardian crowd because he's supposed to be more of a pure liberal, albeit one who also had a problem showing up for Board meetings when he was on the Board of Supervisors. Again, whoever wins, so what. They're both liberal, they're both Democrats- one's just a bit more liberal than the other. It's not like we're talking, say, Ted Kennedy vs. John Ashcroft for King of the World with this election.
Assessor- No idea what they do. I think they do something related to taxes. Again, does it really matter who wins? I mean, as long as they know what they're doing, they'll be fine. I couldn't do it, but then again, I'm not running for the position. Actually, I probably could do it a superfast computer and an Excel spreadsheet.
Democratic Central Committee- What the fucky do they do and why should we vote for them? This sounds kind of like the Soviet Union where people voted not for an actual government, but the party members who represented them. Who cares.
Superior Court, Seat Three & Superior Court Seat Ten- I know judicialships are really important, but you know, I'm unemployed and need to find a job. I might need surgery on my back and have to figure out how pay the rent this month. Plus, March Madness is about to begin and I have to work on my tourney picks. Like I have the time to read through which judge is which and who they are. Isn't the Judicial Branch supposed to be nominated by people in office anyways?
SF Ballot Measures-
Oh, who cares. This is usually the part of the election where I start voting based on patterns in the punch card. Like when I took the S.A.T's. You know, I'll go with all "no's" or kind of do some kind of cool, geometric pattern. I've even flipped a coin a couple of times at this part of the voting process, because I've been in the booth for about ten minutes and want to get the fuck out of there.
And that's why nobody really votes anymore.
The headline of People Magazine screamed at me as I waited in line at Safeway: "Julie Roberts: Single and Loving It!" I breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God our little Golden Girl is happy being single. What with my unemployment and brokeness, my herniated disc and other assorted problems, not to mention all the bad news out of Washington, Afghanistan and the Middle East, I now know that at least I don't have to worry about Julia Roberts anymore. It had been keeping me up at night. How she couldn't find true love and how she broke up with Benjamin Bratt and then ran off with that married cameraman. And how all of her relationships seemed to be ill-fated and that I was really, really worried that poor Julia would be doomed to a life of loneliness and broken-hearted sadness, haunted by the ghosts of failed relationship ships and having nobody she could spend that $20 million per picture with.
But Julia IS happy now. It's true. "People" Magazine wouldn't lie about things like this, would they?
I can rest easier now.
But Julia IS happy now. It's true. "People" Magazine wouldn't lie about things like this, would they?
I can rest easier now.
Friday, March 01, 2002
Remember how after 9/11 there was all this talk about how important paying attention to the news was now. And how much people were suddenly into the news, searching for answers. And there was all these stories about people watching CNN, picking up the newspapers and sitting through Dan Rather's authentic frontier jibberish all in an attempt to find out why what happened happened? And people started speculating about how tv stations would bulk up their news programs and start covering the really important stories, like Third World Poverty or the effects of globalization on the world. Well, the big news now is that ABC wants to dump "Nightline" and replace it with Letterman. It's not because "Nightline" gets worse ratings, in fact, there kind of even, it's just that "Nightline's" ratings skew old. And advertisers hate old people. Supposedly, they're losing a bunch of money on "Nightline" and Disney, who owns ABC, isn't very happy.
Now, I love Dave. Love him. But, you know, he's kind of fine where he is. And "Nightline's" been one of the best news programs over the past twenty years. By far. And Ted Koppel is probably one of the only few journalists with any integrity left.
And remember how after 9/11, everyone was saying that as a nation, we were gaining a whole new perspective on things. How everyone was looking at the hollow, superficial, mall-addicted, Krispy Kreme clogged lives that we were living and realizing "what was important." Well, flipping through the channels today, I saw a documentary on, yes, MTV about plastic surgery. There was one lady who weighed about 350 pounds and got a tummy tuck. Whatever. Guess that's kind of normal now.
But then they showed three other people who were getting surgery. There were two women, both of whom were, I think 22. Both of them had obviously already gotten boob jobs and they were on their way to get some more work done. One of them, the blonde, decided that at the tender age of 22, her butt and thighs were too big so she got them liposuctioned. The other one was obviously Jewish and was getting a nose job because the poor girl had been slapped with a yarmulke and cursed with the Jewish nose (which I love, by the way). That, obviously, had to go. As she stood there in the mirror at the doctor's office, her nose still bandaged up, she looked hopeful yet full of trepidation. She told the camera about the bright new future her nose would give her. Seems her nose was keeping her from fullfilling her dreams, which she then proclaimed were to pose for Playboy and get a boyfriend.
Then there was the guy. He was a huge gym rat and pretty muscular. Sadly, no matter how hard he tried, he was cursed with skinny calves. This being a slight imperfection, he went to a doctor and got implants on his calves (just like breast implants, only, well for calves). The surgery was successful and just like that, the poor guy was suddenly made whole with the realization that now he had big calves. As he flexed for the cameras on the beach, he shouted out that now he had everything he could possibly want. Later on, he added that he had "the butt, the abs, the chest and now I have the calves." Ladies, he warned, should watch out because now he was perfect. He even admitted that he thought it would be possible that men could now find him attractive.
Watching all this and reading about poor Ted Koppel, I couldn't but help get the feeling that maybe, just maybe, we need another terrorist attack.
Now, I love Dave. Love him. But, you know, he's kind of fine where he is. And "Nightline's" been one of the best news programs over the past twenty years. By far. And Ted Koppel is probably one of the only few journalists with any integrity left.
And remember how after 9/11, everyone was saying that as a nation, we were gaining a whole new perspective on things. How everyone was looking at the hollow, superficial, mall-addicted, Krispy Kreme clogged lives that we were living and realizing "what was important." Well, flipping through the channels today, I saw a documentary on, yes, MTV about plastic surgery. There was one lady who weighed about 350 pounds and got a tummy tuck. Whatever. Guess that's kind of normal now.
But then they showed three other people who were getting surgery. There were two women, both of whom were, I think 22. Both of them had obviously already gotten boob jobs and they were on their way to get some more work done. One of them, the blonde, decided that at the tender age of 22, her butt and thighs were too big so she got them liposuctioned. The other one was obviously Jewish and was getting a nose job because the poor girl had been slapped with a yarmulke and cursed with the Jewish nose (which I love, by the way). That, obviously, had to go. As she stood there in the mirror at the doctor's office, her nose still bandaged up, she looked hopeful yet full of trepidation. She told the camera about the bright new future her nose would give her. Seems her nose was keeping her from fullfilling her dreams, which she then proclaimed were to pose for Playboy and get a boyfriend.
Then there was the guy. He was a huge gym rat and pretty muscular. Sadly, no matter how hard he tried, he was cursed with skinny calves. This being a slight imperfection, he went to a doctor and got implants on his calves (just like breast implants, only, well for calves). The surgery was successful and just like that, the poor guy was suddenly made whole with the realization that now he had big calves. As he flexed for the cameras on the beach, he shouted out that now he had everything he could possibly want. Later on, he added that he had "the butt, the abs, the chest and now I have the calves." Ladies, he warned, should watch out because now he was perfect. He even admitted that he thought it would be possible that men could now find him attractive.
Watching all this and reading about poor Ted Koppel, I couldn't but help get the feeling that maybe, just maybe, we need another terrorist attack.
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