Archive

Archive for September, 2006

In Which I May Not Have Heard It Correctly

September 20th, 2006 No comments

So, did I get the gist bush’s speech to the UN correct?

Hey, Lebanon, we love you guys!  Overthrow your government.

Hey, Iran, we love you guys!  Overthrow your government.

Hey, Syria, we love you guys!  Overthrow your government.

Hey, not-quite-Palestine, cut it out and we’ll talk.

Oh, and, Iran – if you don’t overthrow your government, we’ll do it for you.  ‘k?

The US is a moderate government and, by comparison, not at all extreme.

Thanks, guys!

And speaking of moderation and exploring avenues to the fertile gardens of liberty, CNN reported that during Ahmadinejad’s speech the US left one low-level envoy in the chamber.  After all, you can always download the speech off the web later, right?

 

 

 

Categories: Uncategorized Tags:

In Which I May Not Have Heard It Correctly

September 20th, 2006 No comments

So, did I get the gist bush’s speech to the UN correct?

Hey, Lebanon, we love you guys!  Overthrow your government.

Hey, Iran, we love you guys!  Overthrow your government.

Hey, Syria, we love you guys!  Overthrow your government.

Hey, not-quite-Palestine, cut it out and we’ll talk.

Oh, and, Iran – if you don’t overthrow your government, we’ll do it for you.  ‘k?

The US is a moderate government and, by comparison, not at all extreme.

Thanks, guys!

And speaking of moderation and exploring avenues to the fertile gardens of liberty, CNN reported that during Ahmadinejad’s speech the US left one low-level envoy in the chamber.  After all, you can always download the speech off the web later, right?

 

 

 

Categories: Uncategorized Tags:

In Which I Truly Hope It’s Not The New Style

September 20th, 2006 No comments

Not that I ever was, but I can’t stand knowing that I will never again be hip.  I will not get my nose, eyebrow, lip (upper or lower), throat, nipple, hand webbing or (thank god) penis pierced.  I will not willing show my underwear.  I mostly likely will never get a tattoo.  I wore elephant bell bottoms in the 70’s and have no desire to where them again. 

In short, I’m old and out of a sense of new found decency, as well as contractually, must despise the vast majority of new fashion trends.  The trouble is that you can never know what’s a trend and what’s just plain disgusting.

This evening on the way to do a set at Zebro, I stopped at 7-11 for a Coke.  A rather large young man or 17 or 19 years of age got to the door at the same time as I did.  He shambled back slightly, opened the door and head-nodded me in.  As I thanked him, I saw a 2 inch strand of spit dribbling out of the side of his mouth.

Mind you, he was not mentally handicapped.  This wasn’t a psyco-neural disorder.  Apparently, he and his friend stopped by for some Blunts.  He spoke, if not perfectly, at least understandably.  Sadly, they were out.  He asked if they had leaf (??) and if so, what kind and went to consult with his friend.  Since he wasn’t mentally handicapped, I assumed that he would notice the spit leaking out of his mouth or that his friend would tell him about it.

I bought my Coke and passed him coming through the door with the spit still clinging to his face.

This is not the vision of the 21st century that I had in mind.  Not at all.

Categories: Uncategorized Tags:

In Which I Truly Hope It’s Not The New Style

September 20th, 2006 No comments

Not that I ever was, but I can’t stand knowing that I will never again be hip.  I will not get my nose, eyebrow, lip (upper or lower), throat, nipple, hand webbing or (thank god) penis pierced.  I will not willing show my underwear.  I mostly likely will never get a tattoo.  I wore elephant bell bottoms in the 70’s and have no desire to where them again. 

In short, I’m old and out of a sense of new found decency, as well as contractually, must despise the vast majority of new fashion trends.  The trouble is that you can never know what’s a trend and what’s just plain disgusting.

This evening on the way to do a set at Zebro, I stopped at 7-11 for a Coke.  A rather large young man or 17 or 19 years of age got to the door at the same time as I did.  He shambled back slightly, opened the door and head-nodded me in.  As I thanked him, I saw a 2 inch strand of spit dribbling out of the side of his mouth.

Mind you, he was not mentally handicapped.  This wasn’t a psyco-neural disorder.  Apparently, he and his friend stopped by for some Blunts.  He spoke, if not perfectly, at least understandably.  Sadly, they were out.  He asked if they had leaf (??) and if so, what kind and went to consult with his friend.  Since he wasn’t mentally handicapped, I assumed that he would notice the spit leaking out of his mouth or that his friend would tell him about it.

I bought my Coke and passed him coming through the door with the spit still clinging to his face.

This is not the vision of the 21st century that I had in mind.  Not at all.

Categories: Uncategorized Tags:

In Which Strangers Shook My Hand

September 18th, 2006 4 comments

I’d like to suggest that instead of spending hundreds of thousands of dollars to send employees into the woods to discover whether they’re a team player and/or management material they set them loose on the streets of Boston and Cambridge and tell them they have fifteen minutes to find an on-street parking space on a Saturday night.  This will tell you more about a person than anything I can think of.  And I’ve found out that when push comes to shove I will fuck…you…up.

Last Saturday night, I looped around the theater district to the point where my engine almost overheated.  Round and round and round trying different routes, different streets – nothing made a difference.  I wasn’t about to fork over whatever exorbitent fees the parking garages charge nowadays, even if I could take it off on my taxes.  I would have gone home before that happened.  And I was getting close to that point.  Some souped up twenty-first century version of a dickhead in a Camero kept winding up behind me and then in front of me.  It was pissing me off.  Still, like the vehicular version of They Shoot Horses, Don’t They I kept on driving.

It happened quickly.  Swinging onto Boylston St., Dickhead Camero suddenly jammed on his brakes.  “Fuck yo-“, I started but never finished because with almost no input from me, my crappy Ford Focus wagon slid head first into the parking space that Dickhead Camero had just now gotten into reverse to claim.  I looked curbside and a group of straggly Emerson students, who looked like they were head to a Kurt Cobain-a-thon, hooted in my direction.

“Goddamn,” they crowed, “that was fucking amazing!”

Well, not that amazing since it took five or six back and forth adjustments to get reasonably close to the curb.  What was amazing, though, was that Dickhead Camero sat there watching me as if I would somehow have a change of heart.  He didn’t yell.  He didn’t flip me off.  He didn’t jump out of his car and start what-the-fuck-ing me.  He just sat there quietly until I got out of the car and beep-locked it.  Then he drove slowly away.

“Dude.”  The Emerson kids were downright somber.  “That…was…awesome.  Just – BOOM! – Right in there, dude!  Awesome.”

And they shook my hand.  Yeah, I know.  I thought the same thing – kind of overdoing it.  Mabye they were on Esctasy?  Still, I had to smile.

Categories: Uncategorized Tags:

In Which A Circle Jerk Is Only As Strong As Its Weakest Link

September 18th, 2006 No comments

I am trying so hard not to go down the obvious road.  Really, really hard.  But the facts make it sooo hard not to.  I want to be nice…well…kind of…but I just can’t get the image out of my head.

Imagine a room, any room (although the Oval Office gives it that extra addeded oomph).  In that room, president bush, Mike Gallagher, Sean Hannity, Michael Medved and Neal Boortz all sit looking at Laura Ingraham.  And damn she looks fine.  Her slim legs snaking out from underneath a short black skirt loaned to her by Ann Coulter.  She looks up at the men with smoky eyes.  Her voice seems to catch in her throat.  “Gentlemen,” she purrs, “show me your…”

Okay, okay.  I’m not going down that road.  It’s not right.  I’m better than that.  This isn’t some fan fiction porno blog where Belle and the Beast hook up to do the nasssty.  I’m an adult and I will address my concerns as an adult and not fall victim to the easy and cheap metaphor of five conservative talk show hosts invited to an “off-the-record” meeting with the president of the United States and the possible reasons for it lasting an hour longer than expected.

Vast right wing conspiracy?  Silly Hillary.  I’m sure there’s a very good reason for the president to spend an hour and a half talking (and I want to re-iterate – it was just talk) to some of the most virulent wingnut radio hosts in the US.  “Virulent,” you say, “but why wasn’t Rush invited it.”  He was.  But he must have better things to do than meet with the president of the United States and I’m positive that they have nothing to do with a pre-arranged meeting to buy oxycontin or viagra from a street dealer.

Mike Gallagher called it “a life changing expirience” on his show today.  And, sly dog that he is, said that he wished all of president bush’s detractors could meet with him in this kind of a setting.  This, naturally, would never, ever happened.  bush only talks to those who greet him as they do Hannity – “Thanks, Sean, you’re a fine American”.  The very though of bush pulling a Nixon and walking into the midst of the enemy to talk with them, well, you can stop laughing now.  Is there any better indication of the type of man bush is than this?  He preaches to the choir and fuck the rest of us.  The choir then gets its celestial marching orders, blows into a pitch pipe and hollers away at the tune they’ve just been taught irregardless of whether the rest of the country likes that kind of music.

So, who is the new bush?  Let’s hear Mike tell it

If president bush’s detractors could sit down with him, face to face, they wouldn’t recognize who the guy is!  He believes in everything he says!  You can hear it in his voice!  He stands 100% behind every decision that’s been made!  You may not agree with him.  You may think he’s completely wrong.  You may even hate him.  But I guarantee that when you came out of that meeting to you’d believe he was sincere.

A sincere bush.  That’s a clunker of a note.  I don’t think there’s a single bush detractor who doesn’t think he believes in what he’s doing.  That’s what makes him so scary – his blind, unwavering belief that he is right and the rest of the world just doesn’t get it.

It’s too depressing.  How about this instead?

“Gentlemen,” she purrs, “show me your weapons of mass destruction.”

Categories: Blatant Assholes, Talk Radio Tags:

In Which A Wingnut’s Gotta Start Some Place

September 17th, 2006 No comments

John DiMascio published a two part exercise in slam-dancing in the Watertown Tab that stopped just shy of accusing State Rep. Rachel Kaprielian of corruption.  The snark-factor of the following letter to the editor of the Tab doesn’t allow me to point out that while DiMascio’s “timeline” implicates the State Attorney General, the Speaker of the House and the Middlesex District Attorney in the scheme only Kaprielian appears to have done anything wrong.

Plus, it’s always nice when a newspaper prints attack ads in the form of “opinion”.  These revelations, I guess, don’t rise to the level of actual “news”, local or otherwise.

Thanks to John DiMascio for his eye-opening columns on Rachel Kaprielian’s finances. Until I read them I had no idea that money influenced politics. DiMascio’s close reading of how two contributions to Kaprielian totaling $600 over the course of 29 months which led to the purchase of bladder cancer screening kits for firefighters should be a wake up call to us all. I’m sure that DiMascio would agree with me that in order to combat corruption on state and national levels, Government should stop providing services to The Governed. Or maybe he wouldn’t since that would make DiMascio in favor of bladder screenings before he was against them.

Maybe his point is that only Rachel Kaprielian proposes legislation that benefits private companies under the disingenuous guise of “helping” people such as firefighters. Whatever the case, I’m certain his two-parter had nothing to do with making sure that his campaign contribution to Keith Mercurio wasn’t in vain. That wouldn’t be illegal, of course, just a happy coincidence.

Please, Mr. DiMascio, don’t give up on democracy! Keep fighting to keep politics and political discourse free of corruption and cheap partisan rhetoric and innuendo.

God bless you, sir!

Categories: Uncategorized Tags:

In Which I Feel Good About Myself

September 16th, 2006 No comments

I don’t mean to sound snobby or anything, but the next time I feel down on myself or my parenting I’m going to remember that I don’t walk around with my kids wearing an orgasm.com t-shirt.

I’m just saying.

Categories: Uncategorized Tags:

In Which I’m Not The Only One

September 14th, 2006 1 comment

GOD I hate RealPlayer.  What a miserable program.  I know there are alternatives, but I’m lazy today.  I can’t listen/watch the bush 9/11 TV speech (“We’re safer…but not yet safe”) without it.

A tip – When you’re downloading something and you’re asked for an email address you don’t neccessarily have to give them a vaild email address.  I generally use blah@blah.com.  This morning, however, peevish at having to “register” the free version of RealPlayer, I used ihateyou@real.com and got the message “That email address has already been registered.”

Damn.  What to do?  Simple – ihateyoumorethantheotheruserhatesyou@real.com

 

Categories: Uncategorized Tags:

In Which It’s A Fitting Tribute

September 13th, 2006 No comments

On 9/11/06, Democrats and Republicans stood on the steps of the Captiol, joining together as symbol of national unity, to sing the National Anthem.

And most of them didn’t know the words

“Oh, say can you see
By the star’s sp-early light
What so ramparts we hail…”

Here’s a new litmus test – at every debate for political office, force the candidates to sing our National Anthem.  If they can’t do it – dump them.  They don’t care about their country no matter how much they claim to.  This is basic stuff.  This is stuff that you learn in grade school, for god’s sake.  It’s about as base-level and non-partisan as you can get.  It’s not only the theme song of the country that you (supposedly) selflessly serve, but one of the few things a US born citizen is expected to know.  Put another way – Immigrants know more about this country than you. They will stand with their hand over their heart (how many Congressmen did this?) and weep while singing because they achieved their dream of becoming a citizen of the greatest country on the face of the earth.

And you’ve forgotten the words.

So why should we trust you with our country?

Categories: Uncategorized Tags: