LAST CALL!!! OF THE WEEK THAT IS...FOR 2008...I'M SO CLEVER...

SCRIBE: How may I help youse over dere ‘n stuff?
CUSTOMER:I need to stop service on my phone.
SCRIBE: Ok, I’ll be more than happy to go ahead and…
CUSTOMER: Some weirdo got into my house and stole my phone last night.
SCRIBE: I’m sorry to hear that. Well, we can definitely suspend the phone for you. Have you ever had this done before?
CUSTOMER: No.
SCRIBE: Ok. You have two options whenever you suspend a line. We can do it with or without billing.
CUSTOMER: (Heavy sigh) Well, I…
SCRIBE: Basically, if we suspend with billing you’ll pay your monthly amount and the phone will be unusable. If we do it without billing, the days without billing will extend your contract by that same amount of days up to 30. The phone stays suspended regardless.
CUSTOMER: That sounds like the one for me, then.
SCRIBE: OK, this will make the phone unable to make or receive calls. He also won’t be able to activate it anywhere else because it is on our stolen list unless you call back and have it removed.
CUSTOMER: Good. ‘Cause this guy just came into my house last night and stole it.
SCRIBE: Wow. Did he steal anything else?
CUSTOMER: Ummmm, not that I know of. I don’t know where this guy came from, dude. He was hiding in a closet.
SCRIBE: He…
CUSTOMER: He was in my kids’s room, dude. I don’t know even know who this fucking weirdo was. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to curse…
SCRIBE: Perfectly understandable.
CUSTOMER: He just took my phone and walked out with it. And I know he’s got it, ‘cause I called and he answered it.
SCRIBE: Then we definitely need to suspend that phone right now.
CUSTOMER: Yeah. I mean, I ran down to my mom’s house down the street in the freezing cold.
SCRIBE: Wow.
CUSTOMER: But it can’t be used at all now?
SCRIBE: That’s correct. Only you can have us reactivate the handset at this point.

From there we discussed replacement options and how to file an insurance claim, none of which is very interesting or relevant to this post. Between this and the psycho-Santa that murdered his family members with gunfire and quick burn incendiary devices, this was quite the Xmas, was it not? It will probably be unsurprising to most of if not all of you that I was inspired by this horrible experience to write a short story. Ah, customers. May you always sow manure upon the fertile plains of my imagination!

A SCRIBEYLICIOUS X-MAS

Each year I write some harsh, negative overview of the holiday season and those who observe it with such blind, consumer-based fervor. I would venture to guess most of the vultures have come to expect that from me. It’s what makes me so dad-blamed lovable and, in a few cases, desirable. But we’ll deal with mine and Rudy’s bro-mance in 2009.

I don’t really have anything negative to say about X-mas and it’s less famous siblings this year. 2008 hasn’t really been all that bad for me, despite the national situation. Besides, something has reawakened in me this year, something less gloomy and a tad more positive.

Don’t get me wrong; I am still an angry, disgusted, outraged individual. I still exist on the margins of a society that would love to dispose of me if it could only figure out how to do it. I harbor no delusions that life is a wonderful thing filled with yummy experiences and candy cane romances. If I’ve gained anything at all this year, it is perspective. Bags and bags of perspective.

So this year as I look at my X-Mas tree all lit up in the family room and the few gifts underneath it, I allow myself to experience something akin to nostalgia. It has been eleven years since my mother died and at least eight since I celebrated this holiday with any enthusiasm. This year won’t be radically different, but it won’t be the same either.

Perhaps my feelings have changed in contrast to my fellow Americans. Where once they seemed poised to plunge headlong into stunning and repugnant excess during this time of year, they have been forced by circumstance to reign in their cattle-like behavior. People are doing everything they can to save money, whether by shopping at discount and dollar stores or creating Secret Santa lists so that each person can only focus on one person when buying gifts.

I’m not saying we have become responsible overnight and stopped spending money on frivolous things. I work in an industry that provides the most unnecessary goods and services next to the film industry, yet its profits have not shown a single decline due to the perceived need on the part of the consumer. Good for the company, good for me, but hopefully it won’t cause problems for everyone else further down the line.

The struggle to get people to again say “Merry Christmas” seems to have culminated in a victory. Such a ridiculous thing, really. I hate to agree with Bill O’Reiley on anything. If he said water was wet, I’d probably set about trying to prove it’s dry. But when he said anyone who is offended or has a problem with being wished a Merry X-mas is suffering from his or her own neurosis, he was right. I may reject the "Christian nation” claptrap the Religious Right loves to spew, but the majority population of this country still identifies itself as Christian. Whatever you observe that isn’t X-mas, there aren’t enough of you.

So do us all a favor: Instead of finding it offensive that someone would assume you were part of the majority, simply smile and nod graciously or thank the person while pleasantly informing them it’s not your holiday. .Don’t stupidly boycott businesses and demand equal displays because THERE AREN’T ENOUGH OF YOU.

When someone tells me Jesus loves me, I don’t yell, “And Satan loves you!” the way a certain former Jewish friend once did. I nod and thank the person. Who cares? He’s doing what he thinks is right.

This year people can’t help but get back to the basics of this holiday season. There’s togetherness this year than I've seen since I was young. There will always be those pushy, obnoxious assholes that think their X-mas is the only one that matters, but for the most part, I’ve noticed people acting like human beings again.

So I really can’t be a Negative Nelson this year, much as I might want to be one. I gots to keep it real and be who I is. That’s pretty disappointing, though, isn’t it? Maybe I can compensate with some blasphemous activities.

I will be working a full day on X-mas by choice, so that’s a good start. What else can I do? X-mas Porno marathons? Santa and Frosty displays in compromising positions? Star Wars action figures incorporated into a manger scene? The X-mas Story retold using Superman? Get my friends to wear Halloween costumes to go caroling door-to-door?

All good ideas but I shall simply chill this year. It’s kinda nice. This newfound serenity is the only present I need. Well, that and Kim Kardashian's ass delicately balanced above my face.

Everybody “O Holy Night, the Scribe, the Scribe he’s sexxxxyyyyyyy…”

THOUGHTS ON MYSPACE:

(Also posted on my MySpace page)

I am not alone in not being a fan of Myspace.com. In fact, my attitudes toward the site, while often rather negative, are pretty moderate when compared to that of others. “Most intelligent people prefer Facebook,” I’ve heard. “Myspace is for child molestors and horny weirdoes,” I’ve been told.

Wow. With a ringing endorsement like that, it’s no wonder I went into the situation with a slightly negative outlook. All those news stories involving under-age children didn’t help convince me otherwise.

For years now I have had my Web presence on blogger.com as a writer. It seemed only natural to gravitate toward a place where actual writing was taking place. I’ve built a small and strangely loyal fan base there, even more devoted than my Yahoo! Message boards people from years ago. But my publisher wanted us to have a Web presence in several venues, and so I went ahead and created a Myspace page.

This wasn’t my first time doing so. Once before, at one of my blog readers’ requests, I’d created a page. That one was a parody site where I was spreading the “ministry” of a made-up religion based around a belief in nothing as everything. I wasn’t fond of the site at the time or its formatting and so I let the page fall into obscurity.

The site I currently have is a different matter entirely. It is a “professional” page, or at least as professional as one can get on Myspace. Unlike business networking sites like “LinkedIn,” Myspace is a mainly recreational site for those who enjoy…well, I’m not really sure what the hell it’s for. Let me take that back. If you’re a teenager it makes perfect sense. For adults, the site is baffling.

I am not one to hide his disgust or dislike; it’s simply not a skill I chose to cultivate in life. The same goes for websites of dubious usefulness. The whole point of placing myself on websites is networking and marketing. But I’m not some infomercial guy. Not everyone is going to want to buy my book, and frankly, I don’t necessarily want everyone to read it. I have a demographic for a reason. Basically, if you are someone who thinks MySpace is super-keen and outta sight, you might not fit into it.

That isn’t to say all those who enjoy MySpace are idiots or somehow unworthy of the godlike greatness that is I. But if you took it that way, you’re one of those MySpace people who don’t get irony and, again, probably won’t appreciate my work very much. How do I know this? Simple: There is such a thing as a “Myspace personality,” and I ain’t got it.

For one thing, MySpace types don’t tend to be anarchists in any sense of the word. In fact, they are often the quintessential rule-followers, generally of at least moderate conservatism, and they really like having their egos boosted. By contrast, the blogger personality types are much broader and varied. Someone like me has a much better chance of encountering a like-minded soul there than on Myspace.

Myspace heads (my name for them) also tend to enjoy silly interactive applications with names like “Hotties” and “Mafia Wars.” I find these things baffling and annoying and rarely if ever join them. At one point I was advised to join Hotties because it would network me with people, yet all I’ve seen of it is a series of virtual people purchasing. Yes, Hotties is a way for people to pretend to buy and sell each other like they’re slaves. Call me overly insensitive…what did you just call me? Fuck you! I’ll show you a muhfuka that’s oversensitive! How could you say that? No, don’t touch me! Just leave me alone! You don’t love me!

…The difference between those reading this on Myspace and those on blogger is that the Myspace people didn’t get it all. That’s probably why I am constantly being made fun of for having a page there.

Irony has no place there. Sarcasm has even less, and apparently opinions that contradict the Myspace cult are met with hostility. “What his problem?” they will say. To which I would reply simply, “You.”

My real beef with the Myspace heads is their apparent reluctance to take notice of anything substantive. If one posts a blog or a link or anything that would get noticed right away on Facebook, there is little to no feedback on it. As a writer who actually likes o be read, I find it pointless to post things nobody’s reading…call me kooky. In fact, I only use the Myspace blog nowadays so I can link it on Facebook.

I don’t’ find many aspiring writers on Myspace, and when I do they tend to be authors of…how shall I put this delicately? Stuff I wouldn’t read to a dying man whose only final wish was to hear a fictional narrative before passing into the vast nothingness that waits beyond.

By contrast, on Facebook I networked with significant writers whose friend lists have exposed me to more. Within a month, I had as many friends as I had on Myspace after seven. I now have more.

Look, if anybody wants to read my work and potentially get something out of it, I’m all for it. But my experience tells me there are certain people who just won’t and that’s okay. Reading is the last of the selective arts because of the time involved. In this age of interactive silliness designed to distract us from what’s really going on in the world, it’s only natural that entire websites would fall prey to that mentality.

I will keep the MySpace page up because it’s good to be “out there” as much as possible. Perhaps I’ll even find something positive in it at some point but it’s just not my style. If anybody has a problem with that or views me negatively for it, they are free to comment to me about it. Of course, that would take away precious time from being told how “hot” they are, so I won’t hold my breath~

SCRIBE PRODUCTIONS PRESENTS: 10 SUPREME IRONIES!!!

As a self-described wordsmith and stud muffin, extraordinaire, I am often struck by the ironies that make up our experiences as human beings on this ball of mud and fast food establishments we call “Earth.”

Irony is the bread & butter of any creative person but it’s also really good for starting religions and calling yourself a maverick while being another Washington, D.C. insider. So basically any and everyone should be able to appreciate irony. Unlike sarcasm, most people can experience it without feeling stupid. And unlike reality TV, most people can…experience it…without feeling…yeah…let’s move on.

I sat down and thought of ten supreme ironies that have occurred, mostly to me, but also to those around me. Some of them are amusing, but not all. Some are downright depressing and tragic.

Here’s the list:

-“FIX THE PISS!”- That’s what my once former & again current supervisor yelled when she went to the weight loss clinic to prepare for her trip to Cancun. What brought that one, you ask? Her urine test came back telling her she was six months pregnant. Only one problem there: She had her tubes tied last year! Understandably upset, she accused the clinic of providing false results, then stormed out of the building, stumbling around in desperate search for the exit. She turned to the women at the receptionist’s desk and yelled, “Would one of you fuckin' bitches tell me how to get outta here!?” They pointed without expression to the door right next to her. She went home and blamed her husband, jumping on his back and pounding him repeatedly for not having gotten a vasectomy as an extra precaution. That’ll make three kids, two girls and a boy on the way. I only feel comfortable telling this story because she tells everyone who will listen and even those who won't. Not to sound selfish here, but I really needed this for obvious reasons.

- DAN'S KARMIC PAYBACK - I’ve written about the pivotal moment of my fiction writing future more than once on this and other blogs, but it should be mentioned one last time in this context. This is the guy who ridiculed my writing during my first trip to the writer’s workshop in Kansas after he and I had actually hung out and talked. How ironic that a mere three years later he would be on the receiving end of my and other writers’ ridicule with his psychotic, disturbingly bizarre stories. I, on the other hand, was generally praised. Like Buddha said, “Fuck‘im!”

- MOM & GEORGE LUCAS - It’s amazing how prophetic a person’s words can turn out be. My mother, whose numerous complications due to childhood Diabetes crippled her by her early fifties, was a huge Star Wars fan. She pent years after the final chapter of the original trilogy wondering when Lucas would get around to making the next set of films. “I’ll be dead by the time he makes them,” she’d often say. Turned out she was right. She died a year and a half before the release of “The Phantom Menace.” I almost didn’t go see it but was persuaded to honor her memory.

- MOM & THE NURSING HOME VOW - She was only in her fifties when she wound up in a nursing home. Her Diabetes caused neuropathy and all sorts of secondary issues up to and including eventual kidney failure. One day, when she was in her second and much worse nursing home, I held her and cried with her as I vowed she would not have to stay there. I was true to my word, getting her out of there and back home a year or so later. But she just got worse and worse and before I knew it she’d gone into a coma, only to re-emerge a shadow of her former self. The hospital, afraid she would die on their watch sent her to…you guessed it, a nursing home. She died there a week & a half later.

- GREG P.’S HUMILATION - He was the quintessential company boy, a by-the-book rule follower whose life seemed to revolve around his career in retail management. He spouted company propaganda with the passion of a Nazi war criminal and never said a bad thing about the store or the company. One person changed all that. We called him “Skippy.” He was the new, younger store director with lots of fancy ideas and a Yuppie’s obnoxious outlook on life. His hatred of the blue collar Greg P was palpable and made life as miserable for him as Greg P had for those of us he didn’t like. By the end, he was a shattered remnant of himself, shuffling around during his last weeks still acting like he would be there forever, somehow forgetting the fact that Skippy has encouraged him to find other work. It didn’t matter that Greg P was the most dedicated and possibly competent manager in the building. Skippy hated him. “Buncha fuckin' morons running this company!” Greg P yelled one day, then added, as if afraid he’d be overheard, “At least, that’s my opinion.” On his very last day he was still giving orders until one of my co-workers looked at him and said, “Greg. Go home.” He left without another word and we never saw him again.

- ZEN GOES COMMERICAL (And makes me an award winning writer)- Religion & spirituality do not mix well. Just because I found my answers in Buddhism didn’t mean there wouldn’t still be materialistic people more concerned with improvements to an emerging temple than in the quest for enlightenment. I just never thought it would be a monk that would hassle me for not being able to afford a voluntary monthly donation. I guess I was just supposed to capitulate or disappear, but when I wrote a commentary aticle for my college newspaper, a reader just so happened to be an attendee of the temple. Reportedly the female monk was rather upset, so imagine how much worse it must’ve been when I placed first statewide in a college journalism competition! This was the first negative press the place received and suddenly all the ass-kissing articles in various papers disappeared. Sorry, monks, but Karma applies to you, too.

- IT REALLY IS WHO YOU KNOW, ISN’T IT? - This is a two-part irony concluding in the next item. Having become almost unbearably embittered by my experiences at a previous job, an angel arrived in the form of a contractor who shared office space with me. He must have sensed my disgust and seen me as someone who deserved better, and so he asked me if I’d applied for work at a certain cellular service provider. I’d never even thought about it but I went and did it the same day. I have been working there for almost three years now. This advice came from a guy I never spoke to during my pre-layoff period. It was only because of the layoff that I was given a new seating area near him. I owe him my gratitude and, if he plays his card right, a reach-around.

- “YOU’RE LAID OFF/I QUIT” - Imagine yourself sitting in your office with a temperature of 103 degrees, swooning and damnnear blacking out, when your boss walks in wearing an odd facial expression. Smiling nervously, he hands you a piece of paper and waits for you to read it. You’re so out of it, you have to reread it several times before you realize it’s one-part layoff notice and one part recommendation letter. He gives you his spiel about how and why, etc. but you are losing the ability to follow along by the moment. He’s confused by your reactions, even asks you if you want to kick his ass. You remain professional, finishing out the day and handing him all relevant materials when you leave, much to his obvious shock. You spend the next five months desperately trying to find another job so you don’t have to go back, but it’s an employer’s market and the economy is dreadful. Five months later you are called to return to work….with a twist. You’re no longer full-time and you’ve lost your office to the guy that replaced you…the guy who isn’t working out! As mentioned above, a contractor sharing pace with you mentions someone who is hiring. The job is too good to pass up but they want you to start immediately after orientation. You feel bad at first, and then you remember the way your layoff was delivered to you on the day it was to begin. You merrily, merrily, merrily drop your resignation letter in their mailbox after hours and begin your new career path. I loved those guys but fuck 'em in the ear.

- OVER A WOMAN??? - You must be sick and tired of hearing about this but it qualifies so shut up, lay back, and take it! Don’t make me gag you and tie your wrists to my vintage Pinto, ‘cause I will! You don’t know me, man! I’m crazy! The supreme irony of a so-called “man” who couldn’t stand the sight of the woman you were with who now stares at her adoringly and had shared in bad-mouthing you deserves to be listed here. Especially because there's no way in Mexican hell he can ever have her. I won’t expound any further.

- BLOGGING- The reason I included this is because without it I might not be writing anymore. Although I had a publisher three and a half years ago, I had nothing resembling a finished novel I had any faith in and with the death of one of my mentors, not to mention a whole lotta other shit, I’d basically started re-examining the dream. I didn’t know much about blogging, thinking it was a refuge for people in love with themselves who think their boring lives are interesting enough to write about online. Soccer moms, I’m gazing hostily in your direction. I was right about some bloggers, but many of us do have something to say. Reconnecting with an audience and remembering why I got into writing in the first place has proven invaluable, And it all started because my buddy Dutch wanted me to see his latest foray into dorkiness.

SCRIBE'S YEAR'S END LIST OF SHIT TO PONDER...

As year’s end swiftly approaches like satanic puppies nipping at our heels for devil-kibble, it just might be time to seek shelter, read a Bible passage, and think back on what we’ve learned this past year. And so I am responding to and tagging others for these ten questions of utter import that will change the world, divide nations, destroy religions and finally get rid of reality TV!


- What region of the country most disgusts you now? Well, I can’t say it does “now,” because the southern U.S. always disgusted me, but as the only region that didn’t wake up and vote for the best interests of the nation due to inbred prejudice and outdated so-called “values,” I was reminded why I keep my two-toned ASSNorth of the Mason Dixon.

- What single person or action changed your perception of a group or individual? When I saw Congress throw hundreds of billions of dollars to bail out sleazy banking institutions without any real restritions while placing the CEO’s of the Big Three under the hot light.

- What moment confirmed your worst fears about the human race? This one was tough but I have to go with Rudy Guiliani using the tragedy of 9/11 to advance his presidential aspirations. There aren’t enough words in any language to express how wrong, unethical and repugnant that was.

- What moment reaffirmed that tiny, hidden glimmer of optimism you pretend not to have? Who told you I…oh, right I wrote this. The election of Barrack Obama and Joe Biden (let us not forget him) reignited a long doused spark of hope in this cynic’s heart.

- Name one thing you realized was an exercise in futility this year. Debating with neo-cons. When one is so brainwashed as to be incapable of thinking beyond their flawed dogma, they are also incapable of learning from others.

- Who let you down the most this year? I wrote about him before, although technically his real betrayal occurred in 2006. Still, the fact that he has all but professed his undying love for EFB places him at the top of the list for another year.

- If this were the year you were given a “do-over,” would you use it or exchange it for some other year? This year hasn’t really been all that bad for me. I would exchange it for 2002.

- Was there a book or film that affected you deeply this year? If so, what? There were a few books, actually and one film. If forced to choose a single book, though, I’d have to choose Christopher Moore’s “Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ’s Childhood Pal.” It is much more than a hilarious satire, it actually causes the intelligent reader (and me) to re-examine Jesus and his story in a positive way. Tied with "Lamb" is Michael Chabon's "The Adventures of Kavalier & Clay," possibly the most amazing novel I have ever read. The film would be Michael Moore’s “Sicko.” Hmm, “Moore” seems to be the recurring theme here. Maybe I should change my last name: Nah, How could I work that into my real name, Count Monster Rod VonHugenstein?



- Did anything become an addiction for you this year? If so, what and why? I became addicted to watching science fiction series like Stargate & Babylon 5 on DVD so I could create marathons. In one case, I watched an entire season of Babylon 5 in less than a week! I’m in therapy now and really find that sleeping with my therapist helps. I just wish he’d be the power bottom once in a while.

What if anything about this year do you sincerely hope carries over into 2009? The prevailing optimism about the future inspired by a biracial man whose charisma is swiftly making him the next Robert Kennedy…hopefully he doesn’t wind up the same way.

I tag all of you because I am sincerely interested in reading your responses; enjoy that, it likely won't happen again...get to work!!!

YOU MEAN PEOPLE MIGHT ACTUALLY READ IT, TOO???

Somewhere out there two people have copies of my novel. Two random guys I’ve never met before who didn’t know anyone associated with my book approached my publisher and purchased sample copies of the book even after having been told they weren’t the final version.

That means there was something about what was written on the back cover or the image on the front or maybe even the title that was so intriguing to them they had to have it.

I am still kind of stunned, I guess. I wasn’t expecting to hear that last night during my writer’s workshop. I was expecting to hear how the book would soon be ready along with one of my colleagues’, whose Christmas-themed book is also coming out along with mine.

It’s an odd feeling. A feeling I always believed I’d experience but also one I never really thought would happen. Does that make sense? I guess that’s the eternal, inner conflict of the writer. We have just enough conceit to believe people want to read our work, but not enough to think anybody ever will. No wonder the Jewish people excel in the field, they are culturally predisposed!

There have also been copies sent to various reviewers in the hopes of getting them to…you know, review it. The likelihood of a new writer getting reviewed is pretty low, but my chances are a tad better because the book is coming from a publisher with various titles to offer.

I chose this blog to write about this because the other one is a “professional” blog. The last thing I need is to come off like some self-loathing amateur. Yes, I have been published before, but it was always non-fiction articles I had little to no emotional connection to. This is different. This is an actual part of me on parchment for others to love or hate or find lots of faults with. Now I understand why George Lucas doesn’t pay attention to reviews when he releases something new.

Unfortunately, I don’t have the luxury of legendary mythmaker status yet. Each review is one step closer to credibility and membership in the Authors Guild. Not to mention writing groupies! If you thought rock & hip hop star groupies were hot!!!! Well, they are but sometimes writing groupies can be, too. I mean, I guess. I haven’t really met any I would classify as “hot,” although there have been some attractive ones…

As the trainers say at work, I’ll have to put that one on the parking lot and look into it for future discussions.

In the meantime, my book is out there in the sweaty hands of two people I have never met or spoken to or corresponded with or even stalked nekkid in the bushes outside their houses. These people, if they read it or at least part of it, will evaluate my work in one of three ways: Positive, negative or indifferent. They may or not not mention it to their friends (although my readership will probably consist of angry loners and social misfits) and they might even go online to register their praise or disgust. I have no power over this at all, and it feels both liberating and intimidating.

If I’m going to have any longevity, I need to adjust to this feeling ASAP or risk becoming one of those moody idiots whose attitudes are so negative that they can hardly communicate without going into a blind rage of epic…

WHAT!? You disagree? Really? How quaint! I’ll be sure to schedule myself to give a rat’s ass sometime next year after fuckin' your mother!!! In fact, you can come talk to me about it personally right now! Sound good, motherbitch? Good! Bring it, motherfucker! I’m all man and I’ll prove it by resorting to mindless violence! Now what! HUH!? NOW WHAAAAaaaaaatttttt?

Good thing I’m so even-kieled or I could seriously lose it and get all resentful and stuff.
Besides, if I can handle the possibility of negative critiques from you guys, I suppose I can handle them from strangers. Then there’s the possibility of people loving it and the awesome pressure to perform next time and the time after...kinda like my porn start days when I was known as Toke Mansfield!!!

Wow.

I just realized I'm embarking on a whole new era and I haven't even changed my underwear.

If you'll excuse me...

DOUCHE OF THE YEAR ANNOUNCEMENT

Well, the votes for Douche of the Year have been tallied and the results are in! I know you’re all anxious to find out who the winner is, but indulge me a moment as I go off on one of my trademark yet very sexy tangents.

I swear to all that’s both holy and filled with holes that I must run into a douche a day these days. I mean they are simply everywhere! What’s going on in the US of A when one cannot walk more than three feet without getting sprayed by the stupidity of some douche? I find it most distressing, as I’m sure you do, since we know none of you are douches. If you were, you wouldn’t be reading this because you’d be too busy trying to figure out whether or not the refrigerator light stays on when it’s closed. (It doesn’t. I stuck my head in there fifteen times before I figure out I needed to remove all the shelving and climb in like a baby returning to the womb)

I believe it’s written somewhere in the Bible, possibly in Idiots 14:12 or Dumbfucks 1:15, that stupid are the douches for they cleanse us of all useful knowledge in favor of spin doctoring and yak theft. (Yak theft was huge in the Bible era)

Yes, the Bible warned us like 6 weeks ago about the eventual domination of the douches. For instance, in Vapor Clouds 12:16, Leon of the Mongoloids says unto some guy in a robe, “Surely thou doth not need to answer a direct question when thou canst simply wink at yon onlookers and sayeth unto them, thou betcha.”

Yep, Sara Palin won. How’d you guess? Was it the historically accurate Biblical references or the Shakespearean “Thou betcha” line? Noo, really I’d like to know! Fine, don’t tell me. Whatever.

I must confess to being a bit disappointed. Palin was such an obvious choice. I was hoping my vultures would try to spark some originality but the voters have spoken. Even though I already wrote about her stupid ass twice before, I will be writing an official Organized Chaos piece later this week.

Then the fun really begins! I have already composed letters for the winner and the runner-up which will be sent to them in various formats. There’s a trophy design and everything. All they have to do is admit to being a Douche and the trophy will be theirs!


John McCain came in second.

Did I use the word "douche" enough? I noticed a few sentences where douche doesn't appear once let alone twice.

THE GREAT BETRAYAL, OR

"Never trust a tiny little whitebread Mexican fuck with those little bitch-ass feet & hands who has an unhealthy obssession with big tits."


Nothing stings quite as much as the betrayal of a long-time friend. Notice I wrote “stings” because naturally the betrayal of the one you love is far worse. But when that’s already happened and your so-called “friend” betrays you, it runs a close second.

In case you can’t tell, this has happened to me. I have resisted writing about this for two years because I didn’t really know how to articulate how I felt and I thought he might read what I posted. But that was before I created Redux and, frankly, I couldn’t give less of a fat fickle fuck if he runs across this or not anymore.

The simple fact is someone I thought was a long-time friend sold me out. And he did it for a reason that makes any excuses or reasons entirely moot.

This so-called “friend” has decided to place the person formerly known as EFB either above me or on the same level. I understand that most people have that couple friends mentality, but this is a drastically different situation. When someone knows about the contentious nature of the association and has been friends with one of those involved for a decade or more, common sense and decency would dictate that one would support the friend. It is not expected that one would allow himself to see the other one as a friend in equal standing.

Yet that is precisely what started happening a couple years ago.

Unlike many people, I can pinpoint the exact moment this occurred. It was during a really tumultuous time when finances were in the toilet and I was responsible for much of it through stupid mismanagement. The recovery was quick and sufficient but I shut down emotionally for a little while during the worst of it. (Former) EFB responded by contacting this guy who, for some reason, she thinks really knows me.

During their conversation, if she is to be believed, he said quite a few things about me that weren’t too positive. In fact, they were downright fucking negative! I was shocked and in denial. This guy had been my friend for years and supposedly had my back in this situation. Surely she was lying. No way in hell would he say such things about me. No way would he make her out to be the virtuous crusader considering what he knew about her.

I spent the better part of a year not believing her. It was easier that way. Nobody wants to believe they’ve been sold out unless they’re one of those people that thrive on being proven right every five seconds. Am I right? Am I right?

I even accused her of lying or, at the very least, exaggerating, which she is prone to do. I figured maybe some of the stuff she claimed he’d said was said in an entirely different way to advance her own agenda. That theory made the most sense.

I was a falling man desperately flapping his arms in attempt to miraculously take flight. This was the only friend I had who would have anything to do with her since Dutch went to Texas and I was starting to see why. There was an ulterior motive lurking beneath his friendly façade.

I feel compelled to mention here that this guy is married. You’ll see why a little later.

Getting back to the façade, I no longer felt comfortable being around this motherfucker. I’d confided things in him he could use against me and make my life miserable. I was hurt but a part of me wasn’t surprised. I have a strong objectivity impulse, possibly born from my self-editing skills as a writer combined with being raised by a clinical psychologist. There had always been something about him that wasn’t entirely trustworthy.

He was born in Mexico and moved here when he was eleven years old. His stepfather, a white American, met and fell in love with his mother while working in Mexico and brought her and her three children back to the States. My “friend” didn’t speak any English when he came, so his step-dad insisted he and his siblings be surrounded by nothing but English-speaking people so they could learn ASAP. It worked. All of them speak nearly perfect English now.

Like any fiercely proud Mexican who thinks their culture gives them bragging rights, he spent his time traveling back there as often as possible and fitting in here by being wacky and drinking a lot. People loved him. So did I. He affected a Devil-May-Care attitude while dressing like a young executive in training and we all bought it.

We all grow up. Well, most of us. I’m still waiting for Rudy to do it but give him time. And I’ve heard of that mentality some have that tells us to divest ourselves of friends who aren’t doing us any good emotionally or socially. I am not that guy. If I were, I wouldn’t have helped him obtain his goddam degree in accounting! It was my writing that got him through hi English and history classes. It was my paper on the ethics of cloning that placed as one of the top three essays of that year statewide and caused his English instructor to want to enter him into a contest. Does that sound like someone who is dragging someone down to you?

And what did I get in response? This sorry sack of shit told me he’d always thought I was basically a hack or a wanna-be until he realized how good my papers were. Never mind he’d never actually read any of my work because I don't write fucking math books.

In the time since he graduated, he has become arrogant, smug and an all-around pretentious son of a bitch. Suddenly he’d made what he considered to be well-off friends and it was all going to his head.

I don’t’ stomach insufferable people easily. As regular readers know, I don’t believe anyone is superior to anyone else regardless of their accomplishments. (Former) EFB’s concept of deserved arrogance for the successful is not a belief I share. And especially not when I remember when your sorry ass came from.

So, to make a long story a little longer, I started keeping him at a safe distance. Ironically, I started preferring his wife, but not enough to want to hang out with them anymore. For the most part I’ve stuck to that stance, probably only seeing them four or five times in the past year and a half. The more I thought about what EFB had said, the more I realized he most likely did say those things. What better way to complete one’s journey to the fake side than by destroying and discrediting the person who knows you for what you are and helped get you there?

But there’s more to the story; isn’t’ there always? The other night I decided to give into (Former) EFB’s repeated entreaties to go to dinner with them. I didn’t want to but he’d been sending text messages to her lately of, shall we say, a questionable nature. Repeated usage of the words “babe” and “honey” while making suggestive semi-jokes. His wife and I text on occasion and I have never done that and she’s also an attractive woman.

I had to go out with them that night because I had a pretty good idea what was going on, as I’m sure do you. It only took a few minutes for me to see it. He’s in love with her. Or he thinks he is, which is the same thing for all intents and purposes. He spent the whole night calling her “babe” and stroking her hair and giving her the cow-eyes while telling her how her age didn’t matter because of how hot she is. Meanwhile his wife sat next to me and looked at him with one of the most uncomfortable facial expressions I’ve ever seen.

Naturally, The E that was FB denied this in the beginning. But she couldn’t once I advanced my theory: I told her that when she called him that day two years ago all distraught and in distress, it sparked off an interest in him that had lain dormant until that moment. We already knew he was obsessed with her ample bosom and a guy with his immature outlook on sexuality would automatically start placing the two into some weird love-lust combo.

So I got sold out over a woman. I’ve seen movies and TV shows and read books like this. I’ve ever heard stories from other guys, but not once has this ever happened to me. So of course he was confronted about it. Not recently but a few months before I confirmed his feelings. He was not pleased and, in fact, started referring to me as his nemesis; one of those fancy words he probably picked up from one of his too-cool friends.

He hasn’t seen me in nemesis mode yet. Why do you think I still hung out with his useless ass? I gave up on revenge when I converted to Buddhism years ago, but I still believing in keeping one’s enemies close. The day will come when he is useful and I plan to keep him around for it.

As I stated earlier, I’m no longer hurt by this. He’s become someone unrecognizable to me in recent years and perhaps I have to him as well. He is a stranger wearing a vaguely familiar face who thought nothing of stabbing me in the back.

Whatever happens to him is what he deserves. I plan to be around to see it when it happens. And if it needs a little push from me, who am I to stand in the way of a divine reckoning?

AN ELECTION UPDATE

Well, this Douche of the Year has certainly been a modest success, has it not? I'd hoped it would mobilize the vultures to unload their angst and other assorted bodily fluids and most of you have.

Don't forget, voting doesn't close 'til the Poles return to the Eastern Bloc so there is yet time for those few who haven't given me their selections.

Now that we are heading into the home stretch, I will reveal the secret aspect to this most exciting installment of the Chaos that is Organized:

The victor of this award is going to receive an email and possibly snail mail notification of their high stranding in the douche bag community. That's right! Regardless of the winner, I'm going to make sure I send as many notices to them as possible!

And if you're really good and possibly nekkid at the time, I might just post that letter and any responses I receive.

I feel so alive right now!!!

ANOTHER ELECTION DAY

We’re gonna try something bright shiny & new on Redux this year. With the year 2008 drawing to a close, a certain amount of reflection is inevitable. Since this was an eventful election year, a certain amount of idiocy was inevitable as well.

But surely there was one idiot, one lunatic, one utter & complete whopping drooling moron, who made the year as stupid as humanly possible. Surely someone symbolized everything you think is wrong with the world and the humans who inhabit it. Below I have created a list of people whose various behaviors and words in some way added to the overall dumbing down of the United States and possibly the rest of the world.

Frankly, I found there were too many prime examples to narrow it down to one on my own and that’s where you come in. I need you to vote in the first and what may turn out to be the last edition of:

SCRIBE’S DOUCHE OF THE YEAR COMPETITION!!!

Here’s how it works. You will hopefully vote for your douche. Once all the votes are in, I will see who is the “winner” and write an entire post on that person with a brief portion devoted to my choice if he or she is different from the winner.

The list seeps out below:

Rush Limbaugh- Mr. “The election wasn’t a landslide” started in with the Obama recession talk within days of his victory. The man who once told "liberals" to shut up until they actually won an election isn't heeding his own advice.


Hillary Clinton- Denial is a river... in her mind. The writing was on the wall for months yet she continued to run a smear campaign against the only viable Democratic candidate until she couldn’t anymore. Now she gets the third spot from president.


Sara Palin- Completely out of her element, we might have felt sorry for the Alaskan governor if she hadn’t been such a negative, hostile, smarmy bitch. She also set women back about forty years and embraced scary pentecostal beliefs.


John McCain- From referring to Obama as “that one” to openly stating he wanted his wife Cindy to enter a beauty pageant run by bikers whose contestants go topless and even bottomless if there’s a tie, this was not McCain’s year. By allowing others to dictate his actions, he showed himself to be much less of a maverick than he would have us believe.


Bill O’Reilley- He would be a douch in year’s contest and will probably show up in future installments.


Ludacris- As if hip hop didn’t have a bad and stupid enough image, this idiot had to go and write an inflammatory song about McCain in favor of Obama. And instead of admitting he was childish and went too far when the Obama camp criticized the approach, he decided to start talking shitt Obama! Crabs in a barrel…


Michael Savage- No one embodies sheer lunacy like this Goodfellas-sounding madman. He screams and spits into his radio MIC nightly about evil liberals plotting to overthrow a government he’s not even welcome in. His latest craziness was to refer to Obama as the nation’s first affirmative action president despite the president-elect having earned his degrees on his own and, reportedly, never included his race on his applications.


Rev Wright- Not everything Wright says is wrong, but the way he says makes him seem like an inconsiderate prick. Like most protestant ministers who get into politicking, he doesn’t know when to shut up even as the things he complained about are being fixed. and now he has a sex scandal.


Pastor Ted Hagle- Why does delicious irony always come with a tragic price tag? When I first saw this arrogant twit, it was in the film “Jesus Camp.” He was condescending, judgmental and smarmy…everything we non-Bible thumpers view as the standard traits of non-denominational fanatics. Now that we know the secrets he was hiding we should be able to laugh, but unfortunately somebody else had to suffer as well; his followers.


John Edwards- Maybe I should create a Gary Hart hall of Fame award too. Yet another handsome, promising senator ruins his career over a piece of ass.

So there you are, the nominees for Douche of the year. Vote now and vote often. Poles close Friday so they can go back to Poland~

SCRIBE GIVES THANKS

Although I'm still sick and miserable and barely able to stand for long periods of time, I feel compelled to list the things for which I am grateful this year. Yes, Thanksgiving is a farce of monolithic proportions fostering lies and half-truths about the evil Pilgrims and their eventual decimation of their so-called "friends." But I already went into that little fireside chat item last year.

This year I have forced myself to have a more positive outlook. At least, more positive for me. So below I have listed what I am thankful for:

- The outcome of the presidential race.
- The fact that I got to see my novel and hold it in my hands.
- That I am still employed in the state with the worst economy in the U.S.
- The fact that I got to find out who my real friends are this year.
- The fact that gas prices have gone down to the point where 20.00 actually comes close to filling my tank.
- The fact that there are people out there who actually enjoy this blog and provide feedback to prove it.
- That my writing workshop continues to meet even after the untimely death of its founder and the later death of her husband.
- The fact that I will soon watch George Dubya & Darth Cheney leave the White House and possibly walk into the court house.
- That DNA determined I would be hung like a Clydesdale.

That last is perhaps the greatest gift of all.

Happy Thanksgiving~

I HATE BEING SICK

I feel like the shit that shit wipes off its shoe. Stupid sinus infection, I'd kick your ass if you had one!

Til I return, enjoy this pic:

STEREOTYPES AS METHODS OF WORKPLACE TRAINING?

Where I work, we are in constant training. It’s the nature of the industry. People are constantly demanding newer and more exciting products and we have to be trained on every single one of them. Recently, I took a training for a new PDA that is the major holiday season buzz and failed it like a retard with a drool cup.

We get to retake most tests until we pass them, the logic being that it is better to learn through repetition than to feel like someone who will never get it. As of this writing, I still haven’t passed it, a rare thing for me. But this isn’t about my workplace inadequacies, it’s about something much more fun and spectacular.

This particular training had what I can only refer to as story problems. That’s probably why I failed. I hate those. I don’t like being forced to think inside a small tube, and that’s exactly what those things do. As if that weren’t enough, however, some of the questions were of a rather stereotypical nature. One specifically jumped out at me regarding a man named “Koji” who was a camera enthusiast. His name couldn’t have been Sam or Dave? Sure, part of the question involved international usage, but non-Japanese people do travel to other countries last time I checked the statistics. Ok, I never checked the statistics, but I’m pretty sure I’m right.

There were a few others that weren’t quite as in-yo-face stereotypical, but Koji stood out most. And then I realized something: They might need help making their questions more stereotypical! Maybe the people writing them don’t know all the racial, ethnic and gender-based stereotypes.

Thus, I decided to use my mighty writer’s arsenal to come up five examples for them, pro bono, so the future trainings can be more in line with the Koji example. Observe and be changed for the better:

Jose is an illegal bean farmer who loves to drive ’57 Chevy’s while drinking cerveza and blasting tejano music to the four winds. He needs a phone that can be used across the border as well as in the U.S. so he can coordinate with Hector, the man he’s paying to sneak his family into Texas. What phones would you recommend for his use?

Tyrone owns and operates the Get Down Grits & Greens Restaurant on Martin Luther King, Boulevard and is also a drug dealer. He needs a handset that can be operated hands-free so as to properly enjoy his fried chicken & watermelon while talking to his baby mama’s. What phones would work for him?

Jenny is a former bleach blond rock star groupie and general boy-go-round that decided at the age of 25 she was going to be respectable and landed a rich husband who has no idea about her past. Since she’s prone to marital infidelity and spending large sums of the money her husband brings home on useless crap because it’s on sale, she needs several handsets so as not to get caught. What phones would work for her?

Sydney Weintraub is a real estate broker and a slumlord that also holds membership in the Hollywood elite. Because of his utter ruthlessness in business and total disregard for anyone who isn’t Jewish, Sydney needs instant access to his financial records in order to properly evict indigent families from their homes. Which handsets would give him the ability to destroy lives and enjoy it since he is of the devil?

Cletus is a NASCAR and beer enthusiast who is constantly on the go in his pickup salvaging trash in the front yards of rich people. His overall disdain and envy for them causes him to “work” late hours in order to get whatever he thinks he’s entitled to. As a result, he needs a handset that can take pictures of the trash to send to his wife Raeleen so she can evaluate its worth as well as something he can use to text so he can give the trash pix names like, “This here’s a right purdy sofa bed, ain’t it?” What would you recommend?

Let me know if I missed anyone. I would hate for anyone to feel disrespected in any way…

SCRIBE'S RANT ON THE CURRENT STATE OF MARRIAGE

I’ll tell you the real reason we needed a more leftwing president in the Oval Orifice: This rampant traditionalism needs to stop immediately. People are becoming way too into the whole marriage and children thing and it is truly disgusting.

Here’s why: Only an idiot, a whopping moron, a simpering simpleton, a vapid nimrod, a useless lump of flesh, a special needs savant, a Republican or a nondenominational Protestant doesn’t recognize marriage for what it really is. Simply put, it’s an artificial system designed to maximize social control while insuring economic stability and future generations. Yes, most of us fall in love with someone at least once (five times a month in my case) and can’t see ourselves without him or her, but mating for life is not the same thing as marriage.

You see, kids, marriage is a legal definition for two people who have apparently decided enjoyable sex is no longer a necessity or, at the very least, that doing it with more than one person might be fun and fun is the tool of Satan. In the words of Mike Meyers’ Wayne form the epic Wayne’s World films, “Marriage is punishment for shoplifting in some countries.”

However, thanks to an AIDS scare and a raging neo-con religious fanatic in the White House, my fellow Gen-X’ers and their younger counterparts decided to go all neo-traditional on our asses. This has resulted in a nauseating culture of whiney soccer moms and wimpy husbands who think they’re manly. It is the former that annoys me most of all.

Many women have taken a giant backseat, thereby pissing on the many years of feminist activism that accomplished little things such as the vote, career advancement and the ability to wear pants to work. By opting to stay home and be new school June Cleaver’s, a message has been sent to the Right that this is the natural state of things and everything else was a failure. Anything that makes the accomplishments of the Sixties look bad makes them look good and these mindless adherents are doing all their footwork for them.

Despite several pieces written by me decrying marriage as a form of indoctrination, I don’t take issue with the institution itself. For some, it is a beautiful union of two morons hopelessly in love. For others, there’s some involvement on the part of God because apparently he/she really gives a rat’s ___ what you do in your private life and doesn’t have enough work on his/her desk to cause a sufficient distraction. That’s why I’m starting a “Give God More to do” movement…more on that to come…

Meanwhile, people continue to disgust and annoy me with their overly sentimental marriage behavior. Here are a few of the more obnoxious examples I have encountered or heard about:

A former co-worker whose hair looks like a helmet, an obvious former reformed ho who answers her cell phone with a loud and sickeningly sweet, “Hello, my husband!”

A guy written about on this very blog whose much younger wife wouldn’t listen to him, prompting him to yell, “I am your HUSBAND and you will listen to me!”

A former supervisor whose obsession with being married causes constant and sometimes repulsive conversations at inappropriate times. For instance, “Well, you know ___ loves a pierced ahem.”

Another former co-worker whose vampiric allergy to sunlight was overshadowed only by her constant introducing of her spouse as “My husbaaaaannnnnnnnnnnndddddddd Ronnnnnnnnnnn.”

Women who don’t even refer to their husbands by their names, choosing instead to call them “Husband” or “Hubby.” So now it’s not, “Joe wants to go there,” it’s “Husband wants to go there.” They are either oblivious or unconcerned when it comes to the reactions this shit causes.

But the most offensive of all are the ones that call in for their spouses and wanna get all bad-assabout it like they’re ready to go to blows if you don’t like it. What the hell is that all about? One case in particular comes to mind where the guy called in for his wife and basically went on this diatribe about how she was sick and he was forbidding her from going to work and that was that and if there was any problem with it the supervisor could call him and discuss it with him personally.

Excuse me? Can you imagine Scribe getting that call? Let’s role-play for a moment, shall we?

HUBBYKINS:…So if there are any questions or problems, you can discuss it with me.
SCRIBE: Well, we might as well do that now.
HUBBYKINS: Excuse me?
SCRIBE: I’m not quite ready to excuse you yet. I guess my first question is why are you speaking to me as if you’re my employer?
HUBBYKINS: I’m just letting you know that my wife…
SCRIBE: Yes, I know she’s your wife. I’m pretty sure the whole world knows she’s your wife. So I’m wondering why you feel comfortable putting her job at risk by coming across like a bully-boy instead of simply calling in sick on her behalf.
HUBBYKINS: Is there going to be a problem with her being sick?
SCRIBE: With her being sick? Of course not. With the threatening and authoritative tone of her husband’s call-in? Maybe.
HUBBYKINS: Well, I wasn’t…
SCRIBE: A simple “She’s sick and won’t be in” will suffice from now. Have a great day, Huuuusssssbaaaannnnnddddd.

I know I’m weird and I’m cool with that but I don’t like it when people think they can speak for people in a hostile or overly controlling way. I also don’t care for women who let it happen out of some perceived need to be protected from everything. And I really hate people who allow themselves to be sheltered like small children.

I realize this thing has its roots in the single parent household phenomenon of the late Seventies and Eighties. Divorced parents were so common when I was a kid it was nearly impossible to find an intact husband & wife combo if the kid was out of single digits. In response to that, many members of Degeneration-X decided to rebel against the rebellion by taking a more traditional path. A collective of colossal bores, we are thankfully one of the smallest generations in U.S. history. Sadly, the twenty-somethings directly behind us are even more mindless rule followers.

All of us follow our programming to some extent. Few of us break the programming in favor of new sub-routines. But would it kill people to take a step back and try to objectively look at themselves?

Yes, of course it would. That’s why those bumper stickers say, “People Suck.” We’ve become such a media-saturated consumer culture that we can no longer see beyond the next plasma screen TV. Half of us let a 2000-year-old culturally irrelevant manifesto for revolution tell us what to do and think and the other half go along to get along.

People in this country may think they’re more socially responsible and substantial than previous generations, but stumbling around in the dark for a light switch during a lightening storm only amounts to stupidity~

I HATE BEING RIGHT

Here are some of the wacky responses on the parts of mostly southern white racist pieces of unshoveled dogshit to Obama's victory and upcoming presidency:

_Four North Carolina State University students admitted writing anti-Obama comments in a tunnel designated for free speech expression, including one that said: "Let's shoot that (N-word) in the head." Obama has received more threats than any other president-elect, authorities say.
_At Standish, Maine, a sign inside the Oak Hill General Store read: "Osama Obama Shotgun Pool." Customers could sign up to bet $1 on a date when Obama would be killed. "Stabbing, shooting, roadside bombs, they all count," the sign said. At the bottom of the marker board was written "Let's hope someone wins."
_Racist graffiti was found in places including New York's Long Island, where two dozen cars were spray-painted; Kilgore, Texas, where the local high school and skate park were defaced; and the Los Angeles area, where swastikas, racial slurs and "Go Back To Africa" were spray painted on sidewalks, houses and cars.
_Second- and third-grade students on a school bus in Rexburg, Idaho, chanted "assassinate Obama," a district official said.
_University of Alabama professor Marsha L. Houston said a poster of the Obama family was ripped off her office door. A replacement poster was defaced with a death threat and a racial slur. "It seems the election brought the racist rats out of the woodwork," Houston said.
_Black figures were hanged by nooses from trees on Mount Desert Island, Maine, the Bangor Daily News reported. The president of Baylor University in Waco, Texas said a rope found hanging from a campus tree was apparently an abandoned swing and not a noose.
_Crosses were burned in yards of Obama supporters in Hardwick, N.J., and Apolacan Township, Pa.
_A black teenager in New York City said he was attacked with a bat on election night by four white men who shouted 'Obama.'
_In the Pittsburgh suburb of Forest Hills, a black man said he found a note with a racial slur on his car windshield, saying "now that you voted for Obama, just watch out for your house."

Anyone who suports my movement to get the South annexed so its backwards ass is no longer part of the United States please email me...

THE FEUD TO END ALL FEUDS!!!

(Photo obtained from link at bottom of page)

Like most Americans, I love celebrity feuds. And like most science fiction fans, it’s sometimes a bit painful for me when a feud occurs between two people who portrayed beloved characters in a history making TV show like the original Star Trek.

Yet, there is a feud occurring between two of that show’s stars and, oddly enough, it often comes across as one-sided. George Takei, better known as Ensign Sulu, absolutely despises William Shatner, better known as…William Shatner. Look, last time I checked this was free entertainment for you wretches so shutty!!!

Apparently Sulu’s hatred for his captain stretches back over the years, culminating in the Star Trek movie era of the late Seventies into the early Nineties. It was well known by then that some saw Shatner as an unbridled egomaniacal control freak whose insistence on screen time reduced that of the co-stars to unsatisfying levels. It’s not like he was the star or anything. After all, without Sulu, who would fly the ship? He’s big in Japan, where the show was actually renamed, “The Adventures of Ensign Sulu.” They’re not nationalistic at all, are they?

Takei admits in his autobiography, “Why this hot lil’ Gaysian hates him some Shatner,” that he found the young studly starship captain attractive in the early days of the TV series. I guess he saw Cap’n Kirk without his shirt and wanted to…wait for it…BEAM ON DOWN!!!

In case you didn’t get that one, I got a few more: He wanted to get a closer look at Shatner’s phaser. He wanted to visit his neutral zone. He wanted to see if he could get him all the way up to warp nine. Ok, I’m done.

Anyway, like all workplace crushes, Takei’s eventually turned into raw and utter hatred of the murderous type. What do you mean all workplace crushes don’t wind up that way? What are you, a socialist? I distinctly remember telling you to shutty!!!

Apparently, the very delicate Mr. Takei felt that Shatner made life miserable for anyone who wasn’t in the so-called “Trek Trinity” of Shatner, Nimoy and Kelley. His memoir recounts a moment when he realized Shatner was directing the fifth installment in the film series and said, “Oh. My. GOD!!!” Yet he still appears in the film. So how traumatizing could it have really been? I guess quite a bit considering he appeared in the sixth and final chapter on his own ship with no time on-camera with Shatner.

Shatner, amusingly enough, seems to have been oblivious to the dislike of his co-stars. In fact, he has expressed nothing but wounded shock whenever the Takei claims of power-mongering and ego gone wild are mentioned. He sounds sincere, which of course adds to the hilarity of the situation.

Takei comes across as a betrayed admirer and he doesn’t even realize it. It’s the best kind of high school level melodrama where this younger person places the hot guy on a pedestal that inevitably gets knocked over. Sulu’s man-crush has resulted in years of bitterness and resentment for himself and his oblivious love interest, and lots of HA-HA for me and Howard Stern.

Most recently, Takei married his long-time companion in a civil ceremony right before the Mormons got Californians to repeal that pesky little right. Shatner said he wasn’t invited and publicly aired his disappointment at the perceived sleight. Takei claims he was invited and just didn’t show up. So, um, quick question:

How the FUCK am I supposed to watch my Star Trek movie collection again???

How in the name of Starfleet Academy am I gonna look at Sulu telling a mouthy guard not to call him “tiny” while tossing him across the room without thinking of his man-crush on Shatner? How will I be able to think about how cool Captain Sulu is in the sixth movie without thinking of him getting all worked up over Shatner’s magnificent nekkid chest back in the day?

When it comes to celebrity feuds, this one is entertaining only because of its camp value. For the first time, it might be a good thing that my mom didn't live to see this~

Read all about it:

http://www.nydailynews.com/gossip/2008/10/22/2008-10-22_william_shatner_goes_on_video_rant_over_.html

THE TRIUMPHANT, RECTAL PROBING RETURN OF...

The "Fuck You" Series!!!
YAAAAAYYYY

First up,

His name is Kiiiiiiiiddddddd…you know the rest. White boy rapper from Detroit makes it huge with a rap metal sound and enough street cred to claim the hood.

The year was 1998 and Kid Rock had been around for about seven years when the Devil Without a Cause CD was released to a lukewarm reception. Thanks to a boosting from radio stations, most notably Chicago’s rightwing Mancow’s Morning Madhouse, something happened in 1999. Kid Rock broke and broke huge, finally escaping the local music scene dungeon and fulfilling the prophecy he mentioned so often on the album.

Rock has hit upon a grand notion: Rap metal was at its zenith at that point and he needed to reinvent himself. His previous albums had all been hip-hop and, frankly, not very good. He had the flow but the songs just weren’t interesting or unique enough. But with the sudden popularity of Eminem, people seemed ready to accept white rappers as never before.

Devil Without a Cause is a pretty good album. It’s also a patchwork of styles, all amounting to the equivalent of throwing everything against the wall until something sticks. Throughout, Rock plays up the white homeboy angle for all it’s worth. I bought it and played it quite a bit that year and occasionally after.

His next album was a shameless rip-off of the previous one and showcased Rock’s limitations to an embarrassing extent. He’d already started painting by numbers. The next album was a total departure as he embraced his redneck roots and started making country-tinged arena rock similar to the surprise hit from Devil called “Only God Knows Why.” Despite its popularity, the duet with Sheryl Crow was simply pathetic.

I’d already lost interest in Kid Rock by then for several reasons, not the least of which is his politics. During the 2000 presidential campaign and while talking to Mancow’s wild-eyed psycho ass he was asked who he was voting for. He said George W Bush because he’d “probably lower taxes.”

I remember actually double-taking the radio, which is not as dramatically effective as it may sound. I couldn’t believe what I’d just heard. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t expecting him to endorse Gore either. I was expecting him to be apolitical like most people with the mentality he claimed to have on his one decent album.

How could someone who had reportedly left home in his teens to move to the inner city to be with real people be a neo-con? Was he just some stupid trailer trash celebrity? I was disgusted, and became more so every time he opened his mouth.

Kid Rock was the worst kind of opportunist: The kind that goes “slumming” amongst a minority group in order to absorb and steal the essence of their sub-culture so he can turn it into something marketable. In this regard, he is more reprehensible than his idol, Ted Nugent. As much as I despise the Nuge, at least he is and always has been a guy that sticks with his own kind. Kid Rock would rather have it both ways.

A few weeks ago I went to the movies with a friend of mine and Kid Rock suddenly appeared on the screen. Maybe you’ve seen this, too. While Rock warbles and screams into his microphone, we are treated to images of soldiers in Iraq mobilizing for battle and handing little Iraqi kids back their soccer balls with big smiles on their faces. Rock screams, “I’m an American warrior! A Citizen soldier!” My friend shook his head and said, “Look at this propaganda.”

I had a few more choice words about it. What was this, the 1940’s? Now I can’t even go to the movies without the twenty-first century equivalent of a newsreel trying to stir up patriotic fervor filling my vision? This is the kind of jingoistic, unquestioning garbage that has reduced world opinion of us to single digit percentiles. Kid Rock embodies all of the wrong attitudes for this century and this world and idiots listen to him because he “rocks.”

What happened to the foul-mouthed rapper asking ”What the fuck happened to the peace and the love?” I guess he never existed. I’d like to think he’s one of those celebrities that went a little nuts after 9/11 like Dennis Miller or Jon Voigt. But that would entail my ignoring his comment to Mancow in 2000.

No, Kid Rock is just a fake. He talked a good game but that was all he was ever about. If I ever find my copy of Devil Without a Cause, I will burn it.

Fuck you, Kid Rock. We really didn’t need another Ted Nugent, let alone somebody who might be a little worse. But hey, thanks for again proving what I’ve always said about Michigan: the coolest white guys often turn out to be the biggest neo-con assholes. They just don’t usually come dressed like pimps with blond dreadlocks, though. Like your president said, “Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice…we won’t get fooled again.”

That's about as witty as your song lyrics...

SCRIBE DRAWS A LINE IN THE SANDBOX!!!

I deleted my first Myspace “friend” the other day.

I’m not in the habit of doing that, but what I saw and read disgusted me far too much to want anything to do with this person. As my former boy-toy Dutchmaster Zero pointed out recently, my blog has gone all political and stuff. Kinda couldn’t help it, what with a vital PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION going on. As with all things in my life, relationships, half-finished novels, illegitimate Guatemalan babies, this too shall pass from the blog world until it becomes an occasional topic of discussion.

In the meantime, one thing I will not deal with is a mindless, southern conservative. I admit that’s kind of a redundancy, but bear with me. This person used to work for the same company as me but in a different state. She and I hit it off via email after having to contact each other regarding a customer we both dealt with. She seemed to enjoy my iconoclastic sense of humor and I…well, she was somebody to talk to.

She was also married and claiming to be miserable due to a lack of attention. Scribe’s not into the whole unhappy wife thing but she seemed nice. I continued to reply to her emails even after she quit and moved to another state. We even spoke on the phone once. ONCE. I could tell something was off there and immediately lost interest in knowing this person. Besides, it was obvious she was just in some stage of resentment in her marriage and in no way looking to leave the poor schmuck.

She found me on Myspace months later and sent me a friend request. I accepted but, to be honest, I don’t pay much attention to Myspace; I only signed up because my publisher wanted me to. I post blogs there from time to time, mostly stuff that has been posted here previously. Hardly anyone comments because that site is designed for self-indulgent, superficial meat marketers and bored soccer moms more in love with their next picture post than in ideas.

Out of boredom, I logged onto the site and decided to take a look at her page. It was well done as far as background and moving graphics. Lots of pinks and hearts and other stuff that did not at all match her photo. On the right side of the screen, I noticed a blog entry entitled, “Is This Really America?”

My instincts screamed at me not to open that blog post. Even Fate stepped in and made its presence known by making it more difficult than usual to pull up the page. I was immediately disgusted by what I saw.

Employing a writing style that made it seem as if she was the last person on Earth unaware of a potential Obama/Biden victory, she asked high school civics level questions like, “Did we really just pass over a war hero?” No, bitch, we did that four years ago when the neo-cons smeared a war hero’s record in favor of a draft dodging cokehead. Please go on…

She also asked if we had really elected a guy who knows nothing about running a country, insisting that this is not America. That’s interesting. I was always taught that America isn’t about voting for the old war vet with years of experience taking special interest money in Washington, D.C. I was raised on the idea that this country is the one that gives opportunity to the little guy willing to prove himself despite all odds.

The dimwit went on to say that she was so “shocked” that Barrack Obama was the president-elect (she must only watch Fox “News”) that she and her husband, who she claims to “Adore” in her profile, sat on the edge of their bed and held hands and cried like freshly broken in virgins. That last part was mine…

Really? You cried? After eight years of Bush/Cheney, i.e. the Emperor/Vader, you cried? I wouldn’t have cried if McCain got in and I thought he was all wrong! I didn’t even fucking cry when Kerry lost in 2004! And at that point I was convinced my fellow Amuricans had gone insane!

But the best was yet to come, my friennnndddsssshhhh. At some point, according to this MENSA-ite, her husband turned to her and said they’d better get ready to protect themselves. This entailed buying guns before they become illegal because that’s on the top of Obama’s list, followed distantly by less important issues like the economy and two wars.

Now, what the fuck could this mean? What will they be defending themselves against, exactly? And, more importantly, from whom will they be defending their vast wealth and holdings? Do I even need to use the word uprising for you to know what she meant? As I stated earlier, I could tell something was off and now I know what it was; she was holding back her true right wing self. Her true bigoted right wing self.

Of course she mentioned “her” God and how she would pray to him for the country’s safety while the man who ain’t no war vet takes office. We could’ve used her prayers in 2000but I suppose that was fine by her.

Some jackaninny commented on her blog by stating how the guns would be taken away from them even if they bought them now. It was as if I’d time traveled to 1994 and the anti-Clinton militia types were in full bloom. You needn’t worry, neo-cons. Nobody’s gonna take away your precious penises. Just don’t expect us to find it cool to shoot moose from a chopper like some demented assassin.

Her commenter also jumped on the Michael Savage and Rush Limbaugh bandwagon by claiming Obama isn’t a native born American. I’m not joking. This guy implied the same thing by saying Obama’s birth records are “sealed.” (Quotation marks his, not mine)

I deleted her immediately after reading that entry. I don’t normally do that but I’ve had it with stupidity and, since we can’t sign over the south to some other country, I have to do what I can.

Who’s next?

SCRIBE'S ELECTION DAY COVERAGE:

For some reason, the woman once known as EFB wants me to wait until she gets out of class to go voting with her. I decide to drive past the VFW Hall and see if it too is experiencing record voter turn out like the rest of my state and the country.

It looks pretty crowded but not obscenely so. Of course, we will be going at noon, one of the times anticipated to be the busiest.

The parking lot has quite a few empty spaces when we arrive and I start wondering what is going on. We don’t live in a huge district but I expected more…much more. As we get out of the car, people are passing out flyers for judges (which I refuse to ever vote for) and a few other candidates. Behind them is a sign telling them not to step any further forward. I’m not crazy about their proximity to the entrance but I let it do. This is a historic day: Scribe is voting in his fifth presidential election!!!

Oh, and some other stuff, too I guess.

As we walk in there’s just one row of tables, which is odd because this location serves two precincts. As she walks up to the row where the election worker will look up her last name, I start filling out my form. A moment later I hear the slightly panicked tone in her voice as she says, “I checked it last night online before I came.” The worker can’t locate her last name.

How ironic, I think. A white Republican might finally be a disenfranchised voter! But it turns out we went into the wrong entrance. This year the two precincts are split into two separate rooms.

Once inside the correct room, I ask the election worker lady how the turn out has been since it’s virtually empty right now. She tells me that when the polls opened there were 400 people in line, waiting. Our names are present and accounted for and so we walk to our individual booths with our ballots. They’re not really booths, they look more like little stand-up cubicles. Ever since the hanging chads incident, we now use a Scantron format to vote and slip it into a machine.

I guess I’ll share my votes with you. Obviously Obama gets my vote for president. Most of the congressman and senators up for reelection who are Democrats get it as well. Sadly I can’t vote against Joe Knollenberg, a corporate w***e conservative I’ve despised for years. I skip most of the Board of Education votes because I simply don’t care, with the exception of the college she works for. Due to all the BS certain members of that board gave her and her co-workers during their push for unionization, I vote against any familiar name on the ballot. I skip the judges completely. I have nothing but contempt for them and don’t believe they should be people we vote for.

Among the proposals on the Michigan ballot are one to approve medical marijuana and one to okay stem cell research. I vote yes for both of them. I vote no on the millage because there’s already no tax cap in my city and I don’t have kids.

As I complete my contribution to democracy and no doubt the one ballot that will make all the difference, I look over and see she is still voting. That’s not like her. She usually votes straight ticket and is waiting for me in the hallway within a split second. I turn in my ballot and get my “I Voted” sticker for the purposes of free crappy Starbucks coffee and wait in the entranceway. And wait. And wait. And wait some mo’. I even wind up helping a woman who does the same thing we did and enters the wrong precinct.

Finally the former-EFB emerges from the hall wearing an expression that makes me think she just escaped that hole in the ground from Silence of the Lambs. I ask her what’s wrong and she is unable to respond, tears filling her eyes as she sniffles back to the car. I eventually get it out of her that she voted for Obama and feels like she betrayed a war hero by doing so.

I want to be proud of her but her reaction makes me a little nauseous at first. Then she tells me why and I understand: She doesn’t feel McCain would have been a terrible president and that’s ok. We don’t have to agree there. Her main concern is that Sara Palin is a dangerous lunatic. Now, you might be laughing right now, but she’s right. Those Pentecostal bring on the Armageddon types have been poised to infiltrate the upper echelons of the government for years and if we allow them to…oh, sorry, I time traveled back to 1999 for a moment when I wrote that last part. What I should’ve said was, we have an opportunity to get rid of the fire ‘n brimstone policies of the current fanatic-in-chief.

We are living in a time when even a die hard Republican recognizes the need for caution in the face of fanaticism. So much for the stupid and uninspired words of that guy who commented on my Myspace blog that it doesn’t matter who we vote for because he’s in his fifties and knows all.

That night as she is working on a paper for her other class due the next morning, I glance up at the muted TV screen at around 10:50 and say, “Oh, my God. They’re writing ‘president-elect Obama” on the screen.” She looks up, in shock, and starts to cry. She tells me how she feels bad for McCain but she just doesn’t think he would have been the right choice at this period in history. She calls her mom to tell her and the hilarity ensues.

It seems old Mom is in denial. I don’t hear her side of the conversation, but former-EFB’s insistence that the election has already been called and the electoral votes Obama needed are in is proof enough. When their phone calls ends, I laugh and say, “Looks like somebody’s watching Fox.”

The speeches are emotional. McCain’s is filled with grace and humility and actually brings a tear to my eye. Obama even makes reference to his “extraordinarily gracious” concession call. The president-elect’s speech is emotional as well but I can’t seem to react. I am stunned, in shock, and a little sleepy. But I will stay awake! The last time I fell asleep on an election, George W Bush was declared winner.

People in the audience of all colors are crying but nothing comes from me. She asks me if I’m excited and I frown and say, “I don’t know.”

In the background, the hood rats are shooting guns off like maniacs. Every few seconds the sky is split open by man-made thunder that makes the windows rattle. I receive a forwarded text message from my former and again current supervisor that says: "I am so very proud to be an American today. I thank god that our sisters and brothers of all colors were able to see behind color! Now for the love of God black people don't embarrass me with your nonsense."



"Nonsense." Quite the little euphemism. I write back, "Amen. Not off to a good start with all the gunfire going off."



Her reply the next day is decidedly hostile and frankly rather stupid, therefore unworthy of reprinting. I don't handle self-righteous bitterness well when it has no point to it.



So I am still absorbing what has happened and hoping it changes things internally as well. Time for everybody to wake up now~



In the meantime, an word or two of hope from president-elect Barrack Obama:

A LIST TO DISTRACT FROM MY PRE-ELECTION JITTERS:

This year has brought out the ugliness in people in a way I haven’t seen in my lifetime. Racial, political and religulous lines are being drawn and crossed all over this insane nation. We truly are a nation divided and we all know what has been said about that. Back in the Eighties I predicted a day when the U.S. would split off into three different countries, two extremist and scary, one similar to the one we live in now. I stopped believing in that theory until the 2000 selection.

But until that happens, I would love to call a moratorium on some shit I’ve truly grown tired of hearing spew forth from peoples’ mouths like verbal vomit. Here are a few of them:

- SOCIALIST: The term is rarely used correctly and has become such a negative thanks to Republican spin doctoring that none of its positive attributes will ever be known. Frankly, this country could use a little of it from time to time.

- GODLESS: This is the term used against anyone who supports a woman’s right to choose or stem cell research. Memo to the Academy: It’s OK to be godless. It’s not a requirement for office and the “Godless” are often far more ethical than those with a Religious Right agenda.


- JOE DA PLUMBER: Or Samuel or whatever the FUCK his name is this week. The landscaper turned ersatz plumber has been used by McPalin’s campaign as some sort of everyman symbol and it has been an awkward joke. The joke culminated on the day McCain gave “Joe” a shout-out and Joe had stood him up. “Well, you’re all Joe the Plumber tonight!” McCain shouted to an uncertain crowd. Joe is recording a country music album. God Bless America.

- TAX & SPEND LIBERAL: This is one of those meaningless phrases like “Abortion Mills” in that it sounds inflammatory and ultimately doesn’t stand up to scrutiny. The idea that taxation should occur without the money being spent is absurd. We know neo-cons pretend to want low taxes (despite Rush Limbaugh’s insistence on taxing the poor) but even they recognize the necessity of them. So regardless of the amount of the taxes, what’s the purpose of them unless you fucking spend them on something??? Why not just admit the truth? They don’t want it spent on the poor and minorities.


- FREE MARKET ECONOMY: The proverbial nipple of neo-con paradise, this is the most annoying term currently out there to me. You would think it was in the Constitution or the Bill of Rights. The Founding Fathers never had any interest in creating an unfettered marketplace where policy is dictated by the heads of corporations. Even a conservative I know admitted that corporations were never intended to be permanent and were meant as temporary entities designed for the public good. For those under twenty, “public good” is a phrase now associated with socialism and has been replaced by “free market economy” as an American virtue.

- “MY FRIENDS”: Have you ever listened to an old radio show from the 1940’s and heard the sponsor refer to the listens as “Friends?” Ever notice they were usually selling something horrific like unfiltered cigarettes or rat poison that was toxic to humans? That’s what McCain sounds like when he mumbles, “My Frieeennndsh.” When someone is that far removed from the normalcy of American life, he is not my friend or yours. He is a mouthpiece for the top 5% of the country.


- “YOU BETCHA”: I’m from Michigan. I’ve heard “You betcha” all my bloody life and there’s nothing charming or attractive about it. It is an annoying colloquialism usually used by people I don’t like, i.e old country bufoons. The very notion of Sara Palin using this type of folksy horseshit approach to get into the White House disgusts me.

- “YES, I CAN”: I gots to be fair. Even though I’m voting for him, I have grown to despise Barrack Obama’s campaign slogan. I am tempted to run against him just so I can use the phrase, “Really? Ya think?”


- TOUR DE FORCE: This has nothing to do with politics and everything to do with pretentious hack reviewers of the arts. Every well-written paragraph or catchy tune is a tour de force! This is one of those words like “paradigm” that people use to sound like they know something the rest of us don’t. Local alternative weekly The Metro Times published in Detroit is notorious for this kind of slipshod writing.

I am stopping at nine because my hands and rectum are shaking too much to keep typing. I haven't felt like this since the time I was promised a threesome and I'd already masturbated five times that day!!!

VOTE GODAMMIT!!!

VOTE OR DIIIIEEEEEEEEEE

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M-vCyQRBEwU

QUOTE OF THE YEAR:

"That man deserves to be killed! He's demonic! They're comparing him to Hitler!"

-Mother of EFB speaking over an open phone line about Barrack Obama.

STATE OF THE SO-CALLED "UNION" part 6 in an ongoing rant

Scribe's presidential candiate endorsement.

I know you've all been waiting for this, so here goes:

I must confess I’m rather nervous right now. Nervous about how the presidential election will turn out. Nervous about the state of my nation. Nervous about the nation’s future.

I’m also disgusted. Disgusted that John McCain has a chance at actually becoming president of the United States. Disgusted that there is such a thing as a “Bradley Effect.” Disgusted that there are still undecided voters out there.

The last time I felt like this was 2004. It was also he first time I ever felt like this. In 2000, I assumed the election was a given in Al Gore’s favor. How could he lose? He was coming off eight years of unprecedented economic prosperity and had served under a president whose approval rating was huge. His opponent was a poorly spoken idiot whose major accomplishments involved an ability to get out of trouble after creating it for others. He was a smirking, stammering, chimp of a man and in no way reflective of America at large.

Then reality bitch slapped me a couple dozen times and I woke up to a whole new nation. The morons had risen up and overthrown the thinkers in a bloodless coup d’etat. Working in concert with activist judges and comic book level villainy in the form of Karl Rove (Never trust a guy named Karl when his name is spelled with a “K”) they took the Whitehouse and changed all the drapes.

Gore didn’t help, Of course. His performance in the first debate was deplorable. He came off as arrogant, impatient and immature. When you make George W Bush look good, you have officially lost it. In addition, he deemphasized his connection to Bill Clinton, wrongly assuming the Lewinski scandal was a deciding factor amongst most voters. Why he would distance himself from a popular and successful president under who he served directly is anybody’s guess.

These days Al Gore does speaking engagements on global warming, thereby opening himself up to merciless lampooning on South Park.

In 2004 the Democrats ran John Kerry, a rather weak candidate but still light-years ahead of W and his Halliburton cronies. The margin of loss was narrow and due mainly to Kerry’s unwillingness or inability to defend himself in an assertive manner. The Swiftboat lies were easily disproved and disputed, yet he did and said next to nothing. He never even mentioned W’s draft dodging record or that none of his administration had served in the military.

Also, Kerry’s demeanor tuned off what Sara Palin so giddily refers to as “Joe Six-pack.” Un-used to reserved intellectuals, the average American finds guys like Kerry threatening and elitist.

Thanks to a complete lack of sophistication in large sections of my country, W got back in and continued to wage his war on a noun and drive us further into debt with the Chinese.

W is now a lame duck and all the insults and one-liners that brings to mind. He and his Cheney-inspired hooligans are on their way to lucrative private sector consultant jobs and speaking engagements. The void being left by them is the most vital one to be filled in a long, long time.

I do not believe John McCain is the man to fill that void. I had my reservations about Barrack Obama in the beginning but he has shown himself to have the correct demeanor and outlook for the job. By contrast, McCain has shown himself to be an increasingly weird, out of touch old man who is more in love with his self-perception as a maverick than his country.

As If McCain’s smarmy, erratic behavior weren’t enough, his obviously impaired judgment is even worse. How else do we explain him allowing his handlers to choose Sara Palin as his running mate? An embarrassment to intelligent, worldly women everywhere, Palin’s moronic utterances proved the so-called “stereotype” that the average conservative prefers women who are pleasant to look while being almost completely devoid of any inner substance: Attractive and agreeable baby-machines that can be unleashed on those filthy liberals like poorly trained attack dogs.

Obama’s choice of Joe Biden cemented others’ and mine opinion that he was the choice this time around. These two together have a chance of reclaiming some of this country’s credibility and influence with other nations. I know neo-cons love to act like they don’t care what other countries think while spending trillions to influence their opinions but we are hated for a reason. Actually, we are hated for several reasons. We are arrogant, provincial control freaks sorely in need of a wakeup call. Being a super-power in massive debt isn’t a stable situation as anyone with a background in middle school civics can attest.

We don’t need another old world cold warrior presiding over our government. We don’t need someone who doesn’t understand the enemy lobbing bombs at them. We need people who can practice empathy with toughness. Someone who understands the world situation and the way other people think, not someone whose main ambition is to get payback for his time spent in a prisoner of war camp.

Oddly enough, it as perfectly acceptable to attack John Kerry’s wartime record despite proof that people who never served with him fabricated the claims. But when it’s a Republican, somehow their record is sacred? Sorry, John McCain wasn’t a very good pilot (5 crashed planes don’t lie) and he doesn’t deserve the presidency because he had the bad luck of being captured and tortured. Traumatic experiences like that scar people for life and sometimes leave them with an undying thirst for revenge.

That’s what disgusts and makes me most nervous, the idea of yet another emotionally damaged human being in the Oval Office. I’ll do my part to make sure it doesn’t happen, but I’m just one drop dead gorgeous guy. You must do the same.

Worst-case scenario: If McPalin does win, I will comfort myself with the following quote from a Crowded House song:

“Julius Caesar and the Roman Empire/Couldn’t conquer the blue sky.”

Let’s hope that’s still true today~