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!
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
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…”
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…”
Monday, December 22, 2008
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~
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~
Thursday, December 18, 2008
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.
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.
Monday, December 15, 2008
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!!!
- 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!!!
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
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...
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...
Monday, December 8, 2008
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.
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.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
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?
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?
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
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!!!
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!!!
Monday, December 1, 2008
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~
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~
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