Yeah, I know, this is way too easy, but still....

If you're an organization that's spending billions of dollars in damages caused by your members having sex with altar boys, maybe you shouldn't be saying anything about gay marriage being immoral

Can we finally get around to working on a Transporter Beam please? I mean, all those other Star Trek gadgets are almost real, but you don't hear anything about Transporter Beam work. Do we really need telephones that take pictures or Plasma Screen TV's? I just spent ten hours in a cramped car with a hyper-active 10 year old, damnit. Get working on those Transporter Beams.

Side note- imagine the insurance premiums on those suckers if they ever do get invented. We've all seen "the Fly," something like that's going to be pretty expensive to pay off.

In Massachusettes (or however you spell it). It's kind of weird being here. I feel like I've entered this foriegn, semi-mythical land full of it's downtrodden, oppressed masses whose legend is something you mainly hear about but never see. I'm talking, of course, about Red Sox Nation.

I always bitch about these trips back home. Instead of, say, drinking margarita's in Cabo, Mai Tai's in Hawaii, or pints in Ireland, I have to go home for one of those "If it's Tuesday, I must be in Shippensburg" type trips. So far, I've started off in DC, went to Carlisle PA, and then spent the weekend in the Eastern Shore of Maryland. Tomorrow I'm off to Massachusetts (yeah, I know I spelled it wrong- so sue me) for Turkey Day in the Berkshire's and then back down to Baltimore and maybe a day or two back in DC.

Yes, it's a lot of places in a lot of time, none involving frou-frou drinks, beaches, or bikini's. On the other hand, I’ve realized that in one two and a half week trip, I’m seeing more of this country than most people do. I've been to a bar that features 1000 beers, seen the capital building, drove around some beautiful PA farmland, saw a pastel sunset over the shores of St. Michael's MD, saw storks swim and ducks fly, and eaten lots of yummy food for free. I still have New England in the late fall and Baltimore left on my trip.

It’s actually kind of cool.

The other big thing I’ve realized so far is that I can’t fucking wait to go back home. I miss my beautifully mad crazy San Francisco.

Well, well, well....I just went on Craig's List to check the job board and I noticed that a job that looks suspiciously like that of my ex-boss has been posted. Right down to a T. And all I can think of now, sitting here in the middle of nowhere PA, WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON OVER THERE?

Is my boss now unemployed, living off unemployment and credit cards, thinking up excuses to get out of bed, having her parents pay all of her bills? Did the company finally figure out that maybe yelling at people and emotional instablity is not a productive way to be a manager? Are they realizing that maybe there was a little too much work to do? It's driving me crazy. Especially since the last thing I had heard was that people were starting to turn against her. And now that I see this, I wonder if what happened to me just maybe, maybe, was the stemming of the tide, the ripple that caused the wave, the pebble that started the avalanche.

And if so, can I have my job back?

What's going on there, Jenna? Huh Jenna? What you did to me not looking so good anymore, Jenna?

Bite me, Jenna.

So, I was wondering the other day whatever happened to Britney Spears? Used to be you couldn't go a day or two without hearing about her. Man, that was so long ago. Now, it's like she's disappeared or something.

I miss those days.

Ahh, yes. There's nothing like hanging with the uncle who used to be a well-read, thoughtful moderate Republican only to discover that in the past few years he's turned into a well-read, reactionary, hard-core Republican with a slight racist bent and a jones for Anne Coulter.

God, I love those lunch-time conversations.

4,000 years of tradition, thought and practice and it all comes down to this- according to People Magazine, Paris Hilton is so shook up about her sex tape that she's taking Kabbalah classes.

We Jews, as a people, have come so far.

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Scene: my mother’s living room in Carlisle PA, a small town nestled near Harrisburg, a place somewhere near the middle of nowhere. Lunchtime

Mom: If we want to go see “Master and Commander” tonight, we should probably try first for the 7:00 because if it’s sold out we can rush on over to the other theater and try to make it to the 7:20 showing.

Me: Oh, don’t worry about that. We’ll just preorder the tickets now.

Mom: You can do that?

Me: Yeah, you know, call Moviefone and order tickets that way…

Mom: I don’t know if they do that here

Me: Huh? No, they got to. It’s the best thing to happen to movies since George Lucas thought up the idea of Carrie Fisher wearing danishes on her head (note- well, I didn’t actually say that, but I said wasn’t nearly as clever).

Mom: I don’t know, I’ve never heard of it.

Me: Here, I’ll show you.

Calls 777-Film. Gets a message saying number doesn’t work and tries again. Same message.

Me: Hmm. That’s weird, I’ll just go and order them online on either Fandango.com or Moviefone.com

Mom: I don’t think you can do that here. I’ve never heard of that happening.

Me: No, it has to. You can do it anywhere.

Goes online and checks Fandango.com and Moviefone.com. No luck.

Me: That’s weird, I guess you can’t preorder tickets here.

Mom: Oh well, I guess we’ll just go for the 7 o’clock showing then.

Me (internally): What the hell is wrong with this place? How can you not preorder movie tickets? What the hell do people do?

If I were the Bush Administration, I'd give that big, huge, eat-crow speech that the entire world wants to hear and I'd do it now. You know, the speech where he finally admits that he made up the whole WMD thing, the Al Queda thing, the we're doing well in Iraq thing, and the we know what we're doing thing. Why now? Because ever since the first reports about Michael Jackson getting charged with molesting children came out, I don't think there's anyone left in the press to cover the speech.

As I was flipping through the channels, I saw this guy pontificate about Jackson's arrest and made this brilliantly illuminating observation: "oh, I think this thing is going to be huge."

Ya think?

As I expected, after not hearing anything job-wise for months, the moment I take off for a couple of weeks, I'm getting all sorts of calls. Got a call yesterday and one- a good one- today. All of which I knew would happen because stuff like this always happens. In fact, if I was smart, I should have thought about leaving but stayed because that way I could have gotten a job. Of course, if I would have stayed, I wouldn't have gotten any calls because, well, that would have been too easy.

Yesterday, the 17th, was Mickey Mouse’s 75th Birthday. Or at least, it marked the 75th Anniversary of his first appearance in a cartoon. I’m actually surprised Disney hasn’t hit us over the head with this, like they always do, but then again, I don’t see Disney doing a lot of advertising during "Buffy" reruns or "The Tough Crowd."

With all this hoopla going on, it makes me think about the omnipresent mouse and wonder just how did Mickey Mouse become MICKEY MOUSE, the symbol for all that is good, all that is whole wholesome, all that is the be all and end all of children’s entertainment (not to mention the symbol of a huge, monolithic, evil Borg-like corporate entity). It’s as if Mickey Mouse is the greatest thing to happen to children since the invention of candy and freeze tag and we should all be blessed by the entertainment the mouse has provided.

My question, though is, this: other than his guest spot in "Fantasia," what else does anyone remember Mickey Mouse doing? Can anyone remember a cartoon of his? A funny moment? Maybe even a single characteristic that made him the wet dream of pre-pre-pubescent children. The same goes for the rest of his pals too- Donald, Goofy, Pluto, Minnie. I can actually remember a cartoon here or there that I watched as a kid but for the life of me, I can’t recall what the cartoons were about, what happened, or even if they were that funny.

Now think back to "Who Framed Roger Rabbit." When the movie came out, a big deal was made that the movie would feature both the Disney cartoon characters and the WB cartoon characters. It was hyped like the cartoon equivalent of the Stones jamming with the Beatles. I also remember that it was agreed between all the various parties that Mickey and Bugs would each get the equal amount of screen time and equal amount of lines, as if both were prima donna starlets as opposed to cartoon characters.

When the big moment came, I couldn’t help but feel a little bit ripped off. Here was Bugs meetings Mickey and we got the same amount of Mickey as we did Bugs, despite the fact that Bugs Bunny so kicks Mickey’s ass. If Bugs were to meet Mickey in a cartoon, he’d have Mickey so fluxxomed he’d make Elmer Fudd look like a figure out of Hemingway. Same goes with the rest of his crew- Daffy, Tweety, Sylvester, Elmer Fudd, Yosemite Sam and all the rest. Bugs Bunny rocks like "Living After Midnight" era-Judas Priest. Mickey rocks like Air Supply.

Occasionally, on a Saturday morning I’ll flip onto a Bugs Bunny cartoon and watch one or two cartoons. You know what? They’re still funny. Really funny. Just thinking about Elmer Fudd singing "Kill the Wabbit" or the whole "duck season/rabbit season" thing brings a smile to my face (and I bet I'm not the only one- even those who are coming here looking for the Paris Hilton tape).

So then, what’s the big deal about Mickey’s birthday? Let’s face it, when it comes to cartoon characters, Mickey is nothing but the Britney Spears of cartoon characters- a talentless hack made into a pop icon by the sheer force of corporate will.

Mickey Mouse sucks.

I gave up on "War & Peace" today and returned it to the library. I'm heading off to the East Coast in an attempt to see if there really is seven days worth of things to do in Harrisburg and thought "War & Peace" just isn't vacation worthy.

I never really got that far with it. In fact, I got about forty pages into it. It's not like I don't want to read it or think that it's too hard to read, it's just that, as I said, it's not the kind of book you just read casually. To read it, I'd have to be disciplined enough to sit down and do it and considering that often the most difficult part of my day is deciding whether to watch "Charmed" or "90210" on F/X at 9, I'm not really feeling the self-discipline thing. That could, of course, be why I haven't gotten a job yet, but that's a story for another time.

Luckily, F/X has rearranged their schedule so that "90210" isn't on at the same time as "Charmed" is so my life is that much easier. On the other hand, I have no idea when they show it and as they were just getting into the Brenda in Paris, Kelly & Dylan flirting part, it's kind of a shame. We are talking about some of the best TV ever to grace the boob tube after all.

It actually turned out to be a good thing to see "the Matrix Revolutions" a couple of weeks after it opened because after having my expectations completely lowered, it turns out that it wasn't as bad as I thought. Keep in mind, though, that by saying it wasn't as bad as I thought, I meant I thought it would blow. There are some pretty cool fight scenes and battle scenes in there that make great eye-candy, especially all Imaxed up like I saw it today, although I do have to say the best part of seeing it all Imaxed up was Monica Belluci's twenty-foot breasts.

The best criticism I read about why the two Matrix sequels sucked so badly came from Slate, which pointed out that the fun of the first Matrix was all in the through the looking glass fake/real world part of it- that the world that we think is reality turns out not to be. Because that's the reality we think is the reality, we care more about it and are brought into it. The two sequels take place mostly in the non-fake world, the world of Zion and, frankly, yawn. The battle sequence is pretty spectacular but kind of boring all at the same time.

I also think the problem was that, as the old adage goes about James Bond flicks- the movies are only as good as the villains are and the villains in the Matrix trilogy aren't that villainous. There's no Darth Vader, no Khan, no Cobra Kai, no Big Bad to make you really want to root for the hero (but also think that the bad guy is kind of cool at the same time.) Let's face it, having machine's as bad guys never really works because machines are kind of boring- no personality or motivation. They don't even have a face to associate them with or, at least, a face that doesn't look like a souped up version of Wizard in "the Wizard of Oz" like this flick had (something that makes me wonder about "The Return of the King" because so far the bad guy is just a floating eyeball. Not exactly scary. But who am I kidding? The movie is so gonna rock/ so nevermind). So while seeing a thousand squiddies beset Zion and almost destroy it is kind of exciting, you also don't really care. My hunch is that's why Mr. Smith is made to be the ultimate bad guy, because the Wachowski brothers realized that the machine's really weren't that excitingly evil. While Mr. Smith was creepily evil in "The Matrix" he's not evil enough to have the ultimate showdown be against him.

So, in other words, if anyone asks, there's only one "Matrix" movie and that's the first one. Kind of like "The Phantom Menace" or "Attack of the Clones" don't really count as "Star Wars" flicks. And don't get me started on the last season of "Buffy."

As of 11 this morning, Arnold Schwarzenegger is now my Governor. Yes, as a citizen of the Great State of California, I can say with great pride that my President is George W. Bush and my Governor is Arnold Schwarzenegger.

I think I'll stop now before I start crying.

“Life is just a series of peaks and troughs. And you don’t know whether you’re in a trough until you’re climbing out, or on a peak until you’re coming down. And that’s it you know, you never know what’s round the corner. But it’s all good. ‘If you want the rainbow, you’ve gotta put up with the rain.’ Do you know which philosopher said that? Dolly Parton. And people say she’s just a big pair of tits.”

-David Brent

I saw "Elf" last night. Not bad. This, however, is the lesson that I learned from it: if I spent all my time wearing a funny hat and tights, acted like a goofy man-child, and was way too excited about Christmas, I too could get Zooey Deschanel

PS- In the trailer for next week's, "Cat in the Hat," there's a bit where the Cat (Michael Myers) is told not to do something and in response, he does the full black-woman on Oprah "don't go there" routine. Now, it's been awhile since I've read "Cat in the Hat" or seen the cartoon, but I'm damn sure that there was no black-woman on Oprah "don't go there" routine in there.

It appears that Jenna Bush will not be my Friendster Friend as I haven't heard back from her yet about the possibility of being a Friendster Friend. Dang nabbit. And here I was hoping that I'd finally have a connection to everyone's favorite partying First Twin.

So maybe it wasn't really her. Maybe it wouldn't make sense for someone whose father is the most powerful person in the world whenever Dick Cheney goes on a vacation to be found on Fuckster. Or maybe it's because the Secret Service ran an intesive search on me when I sent my profile over and discovered I wasn't Friendster Friend material. In which case, I probably should hope it wasn't really her or I'll probably be owing more than I already owe to the IRS.

It's Saturday morning, I'm drinking some yummy Orange Pekoe Tea, I'm listening to Sigur Ros, and I'm trying- I'm trying Ringo- to be all mellow and not to be all pissy and cranky like I usually am, but then I did it. I screwed the pooch. I read the paper.

There, on the front page of the Chron is a story about the new "energy" bill. We already know that the bill is gonna be lame, especially considering it was basically written by Cheney and all of his oil industry homies, but I can't even make it out of the first paragraph without throwing my paper across the room and thinking that maybe Sigur Ros is a little too angsty for this morning.

Yo, check this out-

"Republicans announced completion Friday of closed-door negotiations on the first national energy bill in more than a decade -- a top priority for President Bush -- but still have not made public or even shown to Democrats the contents of the roughly 1,700-page bill, setting up a showdown over passage in the Senate next week. "

Yes, let's pass a major piece of legislation but not allow anyone to see it. Better yet, let's force a vote down the Democrats throats without letting them see it. Why not? It's fun. Maybe we'll just throw in there things like free tax breaks for anyone who buys a Hummer. Or better, yet, free Hummer's for anyone who votes for Bush in '04. Or maybe even a law that forces the networks to air nothging but 24-hours straight of "The Newlyweds." Who'd know? It's not like anyone is allowed to read the thing.

And another thing. Let's have a big huge vote about giving $87 billion to Iraq, but instead of having every Senator get up and state their position, thus ensuring accountability, let's just do it by voice vote so nobody has to actually state a position.

The only thing I can say is this- what the fuck?

In light of the recent 40-hour talk-a-thon thrown by Republican Senators and led by my buddy Rick Santorum, a fillibuster thrown to highlight the Democrats shocking (shocking!) partisanship by not voting in four judges, all of whom could be described somewhere to the right of Hester Prynne's townsfolk (hey, I can drop in some classic American literature), I give you this:

The other day, after waking up hung-over and having made a late night pizza run, I spent the morning blowing stuff out of my ass so nasty that that my toilet looked Santorum.

Just when I thought today was going to be pointless....I finally was able to download the Paris Hilton sex tape.

It's a little unfair to review it as it's only a five-minute snippet of purportedly a much larger piece. It's like trying to gauge the sheer epic-ness of "The Return of the King" from the twenty minute preview that's been shown around Hollywood. Judgements about it's worth will have to wait until the full-version is seen, but so far, it doesn't look like it'll measure up the Pamela & Tommy Lee tape, the "Citizen Kane" of celebrity sex tapes. No, this doesn't appear to have the sheer passion, the romanticism and poignancy seen in the other tape. How could it not? It's hard to beat the sheer romantic scale of two star-crossed lovers proclaiming their love for each other over and over and over (and over) again and it's hard to top the tape's powerful climatic shot of Tommy in tears of joy as the manifestation of their love is made complete with him doing her on the boat. On the other hand, it doesn't have the seedy "is that what all the hoopla's about?" of the Rob Lowe tape.

What we do see isn't half-bad, although it's cinematography is definitely lacking. It's mainly grainy and dark, almost too much so. It's often hard to figure out whose bent where and whose doing what where. At times, it looks like it was filmed with one of those night scope cameras and I'm not sure what effect is being aimed for. Is it supposed to be avant-garde? An attempt at Indy-style filmmaking? Or merely the usage of faulty equipment? Besides being hard to see, occasionally the eyes of Paris are lit up, like Meerkats at night or demon's in cheesy TV shows in which they're demonness is conveyed by the lighting of their eyes (see "Charmed."). Paris herself is a cipher, never fully giving herself to the role. In fact, she looks almost passionless and maybe a tad messed up. While her partner, the future ex-Mr. Shannon Doherty appears to be fully into it, praising Paris for her looks and giving himself completely to several of the positions, Paris vacantly stares at the camera, even stopping half-way through to answer the phone.

As the clip ends, she is shown doing a Lewinsky with a TV or radio blasting hip-hop in the background. It's one of the few times we can see her face and get a clear view of what's going on. A comment on the white noise that we use to fill our despair perhaps? Either way, as a final image, it's haunting, despite it's obvious lifting of the end of the brilliant foreign import tape featuring Sweden's very own Bjorn Gunderson and French heiress Lille de Brie.

Still, for five minutes worth of debasement and humiliation starring two people who deserve as much debasement and humiliation as they get, I give it a thumbs up.

Don't ask me how I figured this one out, but apparently I am four Friendster Friends seperated from the one, the only Jenna Bush (that is, of course, if she is the one and only Jenna Bush and not what they call, a Fakester). I, thinking it possible to add one of my dream girls to my Friendster Friend collection immediately asked her to be my Friendster Friend. So far, no response.

Oh, Jenna, how can you know what true love would be if you don't take a chance? Together, we could make beautiful music together and then I can videotape it and post it all over the internet.

I hate when you have those weeks that, when it begins, it looks all shiny and fun and full of things to do but then everything falls through and you wind up doing nothing but renting Season 1 of "The Office" on DVD. And I don't even have a DVD player. I'm basically watching three hours of TV on DVD on my 17" iMac screen.

On the other hand, "the Office" is pretty brilliant.

Limb by limb and tooth by tooth
Tearing up inside of me
Every day every hour
I wish that I was bullet proof

Wax me
Mould me
Heat the pins and stab them in
You have turned me into this
Just wish that it was bullet proof

(is it too High School angsty if I occasionally post really depressing song lyrics when I'm in the mood? It's not like it's something I'm writing nor something of interest to anyone reading, but this week has gone from really promising to fantastically shit-sandwhich and that's how I'm feeling. It's either posting really depressing song lyrics or posting really depressing poetry and you wouldn't want me to post my really depressing poetry. Among other things, I don't write poetry. I suck at poetry. So Radiohead it is).

Got a random call from one of the Temp Agencies I'm signed up with yet never call for an appointment tomorrow. They want me to come in to meet the Big Guy and talk about whatever it is they want to talk about. I have no idea why the sudden call to come in, but I can't tell you how excited I am to have to get up early, get into decent clothes, go downtown, and discuss what sort of low-paying brainless Temp job I want out of life.

Riddle me this Batman, why is okay to show nippleage if it's covered by only the slimmest, most see-throughingst clothes, but not okay to show nippleage if it's sans cloth. I ask this in light of the VH-1 show that aired tonight "Getting Naked," a show which, if I'm not mistaken, was all about celebrities who've been caught showing either nippleage or ass-crack. And while certainly a fascinating subject, why would Vh-1 do an entire show that showed nothing but blurred out and barely clothed celebrity skin.

Oh, duh, nevermind.

For heaven's sake, would someone please think of the children?

I've been meaning to do this for awhile and now's as good a chance as any, so I'd like to give a shout out to Dan Savage of the sex-advice column "Savage Love" for brilliantly attacking the notoriously dim-witted lunkhead Senator Rick Santorum for his comments about homosexuality by naming a disgusting after affect of anal-sex after the aforementioned Senator. The idea, of course, is to honor the Senator for his lunkheadedness in such a way that his very name becomes associated with something incredibly disgusting that his very name will be besmirched. Not to mention the irony of his name being associated with something commonly dealt with by the people he has so lamely attacked.

So, to give my support for Dan Savage's movement, I will from hereon in do my part for the cause and use the term Santorum as much as possible. Not in discussion of the actual act (hey, I'm a nice Jewish boy), but as a term for anything disgusting. Things like- that shot of Lawrence Taylor hitting Joe Theismann was so disgusting it was Santorum. Or that scene where Uma Thurman bit the tongue of the attempted rapist in "Kill Bill" was Santorum. Or maybe even Christina Aguilera is beyond skanky, she's Santorum.

After all, the more the term "Santorum" is used in normal conversion, the more honor we give to them man himself.

I'm sitting around reading and watching some football when I notice that the Bucs/Panthers game suddenly gets interesting. With about two minutes left, the Panthers engineer a brilliant three-play drive to get a TD and take the lead away from the defending Super Bowl champs. Now there's only about a minute and a half left and the Bucs are about to get the ball. So I'm thinking this could get interesting.

But just as the Bucs were about to get the kickoff, they go to the Fox Studios and announce that due to NFL bylaws, it's passed the broadcast point for this game and so they can't show the rest of the game. And just like that, no more football on Fox, despite the fact this game was still on and headed for an epic ending.

Turns out the rule is because the Raiders game was about to start and there's a rule in the NFL that if the home team is playing a game, they have to show the home team's game and can't show any others. Except the Raiders game was blacked out due to low ticket sales so we didn't get the Raiders game. Instead, we got the all-exciting Cowboys/Bills game. Also, for reasons I'm still not clear on, because the Raiders game was blacked out, CBS couldn't show a morning game. In effect the NFL is punishing us- Joe Sixpack Football Fan, for not supporting the putrid mess that is the Raiders by taking away most of our football.

So, to sum up- the end of the Bucs/Panthers game couldn't be shown because the Raiders game was coming on. Except it wasn't. And since it wasn't, we couldn't get the Dolphins/Titans game or any number of interesting games that could have been shown.

Look, Major League Baseball may be run by a bunch of idiots, but the people who run the NFL are not only weasels, but such weasley weasels that actual weasels think that they give weasels a bad name.

PS- My fantasy football team sucks. Really sucks.
PPS- Dear SF Giants, sign Vlad. Sign him now. Trust me on this one.

Men's room graffiti spotted at the Pig & Whistle on Geary:

"Today marks the day that Pres. Abe Lincoln stood up and said 'stop dissing my homies.'"

Hey, so according to the Weekly World News Osama & Sadam are not only hiding out together, but have recently married and just adopted a baby chimp.

The question, of course, is how come the Weekly World News knows all this stuff yet we can't find them?

After having "War and Peace" for a week, I'm up to page 25. It's not that I don't want to read it or that it's that difficult to read, it's just that it's a little intimidating. It is hard to sit there and think about casually reading something when it's about 1200 pages and considered to be the Greatest Novel Ever Written. It's not like it's the kind of book you pick up casually and take into the bathroom with you, or read on the bus, or read while also sort-of watching football. Hell, the book is so big it doesn't really fit on my night stand.

I keep on saying to myself that I should start reading it, but then I take a look at the thing, get a little scared off, and think that maybe I'll start in after doing maybe a bit more reading about the Paris Hilton tape or the about-to-explode Prince Charles playing for both teams story. Not to mention that there's way too many cable channel's to pick from. Next thing I know another day has passed and I haven't read it yet.

PS- as for those Charles stories- be afraid, be very afraid. My guess is to not watch any Cable News Channel for the next three months because this thing is gonna be big and it's gonna be ugly. It's already become a National Enqurer meets Kafka kind of story. This thing is gonna be so big that if Donald Rumsfield himself had a complete breakdown during one of his press conferences and tearfully admitted that he did screw everything up and that the world is going to hell in a hand-basket because of him, nobody would notice. And forget anyone caring that the White House just announced that they're simply way too busy to respond to any questions that might come from a Democrat.

Is Elizabeth Smart the Utah girl who got kidnapped by Mormon fanatics in Iraq or is she the one that was held POW by a branch of Al Qeda sleeper cells in Utah? Or was that Jessica Lynch? And was any of them killed by their husband who was having an affair with Princess Diana's butler?

I'm so confused

Ugh, I'm sorry. I'll bring the funny tomorrow- guess I just got the ole cranky pants on today.
Since I'm about to get reviewed by some Jewish Blog Ring to see if the Tribe will let me be part of the Tribes Web circle (so we can control the world that much more efficiently), maybe I'll post my brilliant idea on the Jewish Porn site I'd like to see.

Or about how going to see the Matrix this weekend has turned into a huge ordeal.

This is why I don't like the "Progressives" in San Francisco. This is why I vote not out of who or what I think best but what'll piss these people off the most.

From a SF Political blog:

"Dozens of Gonzonistas sported buttons declaring “Gavin Newsom is a pussy,” and congratulated each other in a South of Market art gallery cum gin joint last night, knocking back cocktails and savoring their stick-it-to-the-man moment under ersatz Newsom posters that had been altered to declare “NoScum.”

The display portends much uglier business. In the months leading up to last night's election, Newsom's opponents increasingly relied on dirty tricks, vandalizing Newsom campaign signs all over town, filing fraudulent complaints with the San Francisco Department of Public Health against his restaurants and even making death threats."

Classy.

Here's another one of those dirty little secrets about SF. The so-called "Progressives" are just as sanctimonous, just as self-righteous, just as full of themselves as the Far Right. But, of course, if you accused them of it, they'd give you a long tirade about how open-minded and tolerant they are.

Just as the Replubicans drive me up a wall because of their ends-justifying-the-means philosphy- what with trying impeaching a President, the redistricting in Texas, the 2000 election and numerous other devious little tricks- the Progressives do it too. They're just not as good as the Replublicans are. They just like to throw temper tantrums instead.

Want more? From a story in Salon about the campaign and why the writer (Joan Walsh) was sympathetic to Newsom:

"... I hated the campaign against Care Not Cash, which was really a campaign against Newsom, in which nasty lefty know-it-alls hit him with pies, threw stink bombs into the restaurants he owned, papered the town with fliers printing his home phone number and demonized him mostly because they could. It was a thuggish kind of politics that disgusts me, and I blamed its practitioners for marginalizing someone who isn't a villain, who doesn't have horns, who had been a champion of drug treatment and a smart mind and decent vote on human service issues, whose crime it was to see the problems of poverty and social services differently from the advocacy community."

What I'm trying to say is this- just because you're an asshole on the Left and not an asshole on the Right doesn't mean you're still not an asshole.

And another thing about Recruiters- they call you up one day, tell you that they have a job that you'd be perfect for and that it's not only temp-to-perm and good paying, but it just happens to be at the rival company of your ex-company. And then a day later, just as you're that much salivating over the possibility of the job and have visions of word getting out about your new job percolating through your ex-company, they call to say "oops, it was already filled. Sorry."

Buckle up, it's rant time….

Fucking recruiters. I knew I shouldn't have trusted them from previous experience, but I started to trust them this time around. Silly me- I guess I just thought they'd actually help me. Even sillier, I believed them when they told me I had a really good resume, that I shouldn't have a problem finding work, and that they're "working on a few things."

Got an e-mail yesterday from a recruiter about a job. A half-way decent one too. So I called them up and asked what the what is. When I got on the phone with the Recruiter, she asked me how's it going and when I told her I'm still looking for work I got this as a response: "really? Why?"

Umm, maybe it's because you guys don't have anything for me. Or tell me you have something and then tell me nevermind. Or send me on an interview and then tell me it went to someone internally. Plus, you know, I figure that as it is there jobs to get people jobs, they'd know what it's like out there, that it's actually harder right now than it was last year (recovery my fucking ass). Shouldn't they know it's hard too?

Then I talked to another agency this morning. I call them about once every three weeks just to check in and everytime I call them they tell me that they're working on something, that they love my resume, and that I'm on the top of their list of people to send out for interviews. Today when I talked to them they told me, that they had a bunch of jobs out there that they've sent people out on, but, ooops, I "fell through the cracks." Which, he tells me, happens sometimes. Especially to people they keep on telling that they're on the top of the list and should have something for soon. And then he asked me what I've been doing since I've been unemployed.

So how's this for an answer- sitting by the fucking phone waiting for you to do your fucking job and get me a job.

I mean, if it's their job to get me a job and they're not getting me a job, shouldn't they at least not be surprised that I don't have one?

You know, it's good that I have this blog because it's either I rant here or start kicking things in my apartment and my toe still hurts from the last time I kicked things.

I don't know whether it's because it's Fox News or whether it's just your typical business show, but just in one minute of watching the news, I heard-

-It's not WalMart's fault they're hiring illegal immigrants to work there for below minimum wages, it's the Global Economy. See, the Global Economy says try and find the lowest paid workers as possible and that's what WalMart did. In fact, we should praise WalMart for not only keeping those jobs in America but for being so clever to figure out how to be competitive. So bully for WalMart (of course, we should do everything to keep those Mexican's from working in the country and take away all their benefits because they take jobs away from Americans, although, on the other hand, they are a pretty good way to constantly scare Whitey into voting Republican.)

-WalMart's future is looking up because they've only begun to expand into Mexico and China and it'll only be a few more years before they take over those countries too!

-And, of course, the economy is doing great (except, of course, for all the unemployed people or all the recently laid-off people or all the uninsured people, but who cares about them, they're all poor!)

I think there should be a news show called "Bitch Slap." It would, of course, be hosted by me. In the show, anyone who says something completely ridiculous, gets bitch slapped. It's kind of like the "O'Reilly Factor" except not hosted by a pompous blowhard. I swear, sometimes I think it's like the entire country is speaking a different language from me because absolutely nothing anyone says makes sense anymore.

I'm watching "Charmed," a show I seem to be inexorably drawn to despite the inherent Spelling-ness of it all, when all of a sudden the screen goes black, followed by one of those high-pitched sounds. Oh my God, I thought, it's the kicking in of the Emergency Broadcast System. I thought those things had gone away, a Cold War relic thrown away into some attic never to be used unless something really, really bad happens. Is something bad happening?

My mind started racing. I flipped through the channels and noticed that every channel on my cable had gone black and was broadcasting the sound. What could it be? Nuclear attack? Terrorrism? Impending earthquake?

Nope, turns out some kid might have been abducted and they were alerting the entire Bay Area that there was a child abduction going down. Hearing this, I did what any red-blooded concerned citizen would do- grabbed my jacket and headed outside to help stop the child abduction. Because, of course, FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE, WOULD SOMEONE PLEASE THINK OF THE CHILDREN?

And it's a Run-off!

This means it'll be our third election in three months. And not only will it be for the Mayoral race (it is between the Wannabe Philosopher King vs. the Rich Prince) but one for DA too (only in SF is the lowest conviction rate in the state seen as a good thing). I know, I know, you're all jealous.

While I don't think the run-off thing is a bad idea, it makes the election kind of weird. Basically, how it works is that the normal election is like the NBA regular season and then run-offs are the playoffs. All we basically did was eliminate all the other losers before we can get to the excitement. And like the NBA season, it seems to go on and on and on until you get to the point where it's San Antonio vs. New Jersey and nobody cares anymore.

All of which means one more month of mail-boxes stuffed with flyers, taped phone call messages, and hyperventilating citizens.

Whoopee!

A long time ago I wrote about the Homeless Guy who always hangs around my door stoop. I don't like running into him because I actually paid him some money when I first moved in to help move a dresser up so he knows me. He's also outside my apartment almost daily so I run into him at least two to three times a week. I haven't given him any money (like I have any), but because we see each other all the time and because he's been in my apartment, it's been, kind of a touchy thing. It is, after all, no longer an impersonal homeless guy vs. non-homeless guy panhandling thing, but a personal homeless guy vs. non-homeless guy panhandling thing.

Today, as I was getting dropped off at my apartment and dashing across the street, he was there waiting for me. As I brushed by him, I heard him telling me that he's been trying forever to get me to buy a Street Sheet but I've never bought one. As if I'm doing something wrong by not buying one.

Am I going to have to move into another place just so I can avoid getting guilt tripped by homeless people?

CNN aired a Democratic Presidential debate today. The thing that made this one special was that is sponsored by "Rock the Vote" so it was an attempt for the Candidates to get down with the kids. This, of course, meant splashy graphics and buttoned down looks cause we all know the kids wouldn't want to vote for somebody who dresses up for a debate. Hell, the General was even rocking a black turtleneck. The best part of the debate was when the candidates got to air a video aimed especially at a younger generation, full of quick-cuts and splashy music. Unfortunately, there's absolutely no way to make Joe Lieberman look hip.

I've seen a bunch of these debates and I kind of feel sorry for all the Democrats. Basically, there all about an hour long minus time taken away for commercials. Plus, there are nine of them. This means that on all the major issues, they don't really have any time to say anything other than a quick, general sound-bite. So naturally, after the debate, all the press writes really scathing reviews about how none of the Democrats said anything important, how none of them proved they said anything of substance, as if one could come up with the Gettysburg Address in that one minute. Typically, all the Candidates also get skewered for trying to say something snappy and sound-bitey- which they all do- instead of saying something substantial. But then when you watch the news coverage, they only show something snappy and sound-bitey. John Edwards could, in the one minute he has, give a finely detailed, brilliant explanation of how many angels could dance on the head of a pin but nobody would show it because it's not a soundbite. And he'd be criticized for coming up with a knock-out blow.

But the biggest thing I feel sorry for them is that every single one of them has to go one those debates and all those shows and get grilled about Iraq- how do we get out of there? What should we do? Why do you say this but vote that? What happened to all the evidence of WMD? The reason why I feel sorry for them is that they have to get grilled on these questions while the guy whose responsible for this mess never has to.

Here's a new one-

So I'm at the big Halloween Party. I'm talking to some woman who I have one of those somewhat flirtatious relationship with, the kind that inevitably ends up with a bit too much drinking and the occasional polka dancing. She's there with her heretofore-unseen boyfriend and as we're talking and getting a little bit more flirtatious, boyfriend disappears. After a few minutes she quickly cuts the conversation off with these exact words: "I gotta go look for my boyfriend. He can get a little belligerent when he's drunk."

Naturally, two things cross my mind. The first one is the usual thought at this time- why is she dating some guy who gets belligerent when he's drunk (never an attractive feature) when she could be dating me? That was quickly followed by wondering if that meant I was about to get my ass kicked.

Picked up some easy reading today at the Library- "War and Peace." Hell, I got nothing else to do during the day and the most intellectually stimulating thing I do all day is flipping back and forth between "Charmed" & "BH 90210" so why not? Besides I've always wanted to read it. It is considered the greatest piece of Literature like ever and I've figured that being the intellectually inclined ex-English literature Major that I am, I should read it. In fact, it's one of those things that’s on my list of Things I Have To Do Before I Die. You know that list (we all have them). It's up there somewhere around living overseas for a brief period of time, being married by 30, having a nice career, and threesome's with cheerleaders.

We'll see how long before I give up on it. Even though I've supposed to read most of the big books of literature, I can't actually say I've made it through most of them. "Moby Dick"? Read half of it. "Canterbury Tales"? Cliff Notes, baby. "Beowulf?" Saw the movie.

I give it a week.

Oh man, my beloved alma mater, UCSB got featured on Dateline tonight. Let's just say there's nothing quite as difficult to watch as your alma mater getting the Dateline treatment. Over the usual smugly self-righteous narration (is there anyone more unctuous than Stone Phillips?), they showed pictures of people partying in Isla Vista on your typical weekend night. Or, since we are talking about UCSB, possibly your average Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday night too. Oh, the horror of seeing all the slander and titillation thrown at what you know is merely the greatest square mile on the face of the earth.

Turns out there's this new thing out there called "College Porn" in which porn stars show up at some kegger, get everyone drunk, then film people doing things with the porn star. This, is of course, shocking behavior, and another sign of the corruption of the Youth of Today, a fact subtly hammered home by the showing of a drunk Gaucho screaming "we are the future leaders of America!" while at a keg party. And I have to admit I too am shocked, as much as the lameness of the idgits who agreed to do the porn as the fact there was never those kind of parties when I was there. Or at least any that I was aware of.

It was pretty cold too when the reporter asked the porn star responsible for it why she'd do it at schools like SB but never at those schools that are the bastion of academic quality- Harvard and Yale. Hey, Harvard and Yale may be Ivy League schools, but are they surrounded on three sides by the Pacific Ocean? Do they have a surfing team? Can you have bon-fires on the beach there?

I think not. Bite me Stone Phillips.

Written a few days ago, before the weather turned icy cold….

I was walking down Valencia today (and there's nothing so attractive like Mission women walking down the street in their low-cut outfits, showing off their entire tatoo-filled bodies) and I saw a new campaign poster for one of the Mayoral Candidates. The Candidate- the Poet Prince of San Francisco Politics, the Lizard King of the Board has a sign very tastefully done, almost artsy in a 60's pop-art way, with the slogan: "Our Ideas are Better." Wow, I thought, way to get right to the point. No silly little slogans like "Bringing People Together" or "Making San Francisco Better" or "For Rainbows and Puppy Dogs"- just straight out, flat-out, I'm so much better than you and everyone who agrees with me is so straight out, flat-out smarter than you. And while that view, deep-down, is the underlying philosophy behind all politics, I've never seen it relayed so out in the open.

Okay, now bear with me, I swear that isn't going to get too political or to inside SF politics- there's a point to all of this…..

In a nutshell, that banner pretty much sums up everything I don't like about the candidate (in fact, it sums up a lot of things that I don't like about people in SF, but that's another story. Actually it's kind of one in the same, so play along with the metaphor if you will). If you read about his campaign, you'll read that it that the candidate's main style of campaigning is doing things like holding art openings or doing pub crawls or having (pedal) bike rallies. Hell, his campaign headquarters is an uber hip coffee house in Lower Haight known for having high-speed internet connections and the playing of art flicks on the back wall. The guy is definitely one hep cat.

Naturally, of course, this makes him the fave candidate of the hipster/progressive types. "He's one of us," they keep on saying when asked about him and it's true, he is one of them. This seems to be his campaign's main message- I'm so cool and my friends are so cool, so vote for us and be cool too. It's not even a referendum on his politics really, it's more like a referendum on just how cool he is. Like he's running more for Class President than Mayor. If you read about his campaign, though, you'll notice that there doesn't appear to be any outreach to any other neighborhoods, no discussion of things that people who aren't a hipster would want to hear, nothing that, say, somebody in Hunter's Point would care about.

Then there's his main opponent, the Evil Prince of SF Politics, Evil for having the audacity to be born straight, rich, and white. Not to mention good looking and married to his hot ex-lingerie model wife. If he ran in any other city, he'd be considered a liberal to moderate Democrat, but here in SF-land, being a Moderate Democrat, especially one who actually tries to do something about the Homeless without bringing on the end of capitalism, is a bad thing.

When I saw him at the debate I went to, my main impression I had of him was that he was trying way to hard to look like a politician. He had all the pat slogans, all the hand-mannerisms, and all the dodgy pat responses that politicians have. It was like he had just graduated from Politician Finishing School and still hadn't mastered it yet. He was a Politician-In-Training. He also has a huge campaign chest full of money from all those people who people like me don't like to see handing out money- big business and rich folks. Nobody likes "politicians," nobody likes people who act like politicians, and nobody likes people who take money from rich people and businesses. In his way, the Evil Price embodies all of what we all complain about.

If, however, you do any sort of digging around and read about him and his campaign, you'd also see that he's also been doing a lot of other things. He's studied all the issues, even the small minor one's, and has written policy papers on it; he's kind of wonky in his way. He's also gone to every section of the city, met with every type of group, and answered questions about every possible thing. You'll also discover that he's gone to other cities to see what works there and what doesn't work. Unlike the other candidate, the Evil Prince is running your basic, standard Mayoral campaign. The kind of campaign that every typical politician runs. And you know what, sometimes that's not a bad thing.

Look, politics in some ways is about going through hoops. Everyone who runs has to do things a certain way. Some of them are pretty stupid and pretty silly, some of them aren't. The rules for running for Mayor are especially set in stone. If you're running for Mayor, you should be going out to every neighborhood. You should know every policy detail. You should attend every possible meeting. These things matter. As silly as some of those hoops are, they at least give you an idea of who really wants to be Mayor, who really wants to help everyone, and who really knows what the hell is going.

Okay, here's the point to all of this- when it comes down to it, I'd rather vote for the guy who is trying really hard to run for Mayor as opposed to one who is too cool for School to run for Mayor. Those hoops do matter.

Also, if your campaign slogan is "Our Ideas are Better" you're a pompous jackass.