I Don't do Facebook

I do not have a facebook page.

I do not have a twitter account.

I do not use myspace.

I, apparently unlike millions of others desperate for their share of the 15 minutes of fame, do not crave attention like a crack user seeking a rock. This is the only way I can think of to describe these millions of facebook, twitter, and myspace users who lust for as many online friends as they can get their cyberspace hands on. Never mind the fact that most of these users will never actually have face-to-face contact with the people they connect with electronically--it is also highly unlikely that any of these people will also actually carry out an actual verbal communication with any of their so-called cyberfriends.

This, my friends, is the biggest part of my problem with these services. These so-called "social networks" are actually doing the opposite of what they may have been originally intended to do: They are discouraging the development of basic social skills.

Add on to this that it is a known fact that these services are often trolled by predators, sexual and otherwise, looking for vulnerable victims. Victims, I might add, who are not exactly making themselves hard to find. The amount of information some of these people are willing to share about their lives makes me shudder.

I have actually become quite surprised with myself that I write this blog. I've been doing this for more than six years now, and there have been times when, quite frankly, I have shared some of my more intimate thoughts with the 3 people who read it.

An aside: I often refer to "the 3 readers of this blog" in many posts. I have no idea the actual readership. I've gotten comments every now and then. Its existence is not advertised anywhere but in my e-mail signatures.

It is important to remember, however, that I don't write in this blog for attention. I write it so that my personal thoughts, experiences, and opinions will be available somewhere other than in my own head. Over the past 6+ years, I have written some things here that I am, at various times, proud of, scared of, ashamed of, and, quite frankly, confused by. But this is what I have written. I will never delete anything, rewrite anything, or do anything other than make minor grammatical edits to anything I have written or will write here.

So now, climbing off my soapbox...

Let me conclude this post with a little story: I have heard that there is a program available on facebook that allows you to plant, cultivate, and harvest "virtual vegetables". I have no idea if this is true. But if it is, let me ask this of the people who spend time doing this: Have you ever pondered turning off your computer, going outside, tilling some dirt in a garden plot, planting real vegetables, harvesting them, and making yourself a nice dish?

I grow tomatoes every summer. I enjoy using them to make my homemade spaghetti sauce. Try it sometime. It's really delicious!

The TEA Party

The so-called Tax Enough Already party has just expelled its leader for apparently calling the NAACP a racist organization.

I'll give you a few minutes to let the irony of that statement sink in.

These Tea Party folks really, really hate it when the government takes their money and uses it for frivolous things as paying people their social security benefits, keeping the country's infrastructure intact, making sure the armed forces are paid, and cleaning up the mess created by a massive underwater oil spill. Of course, they have no problem when these things happen under a Republican administration. Or when said administration spends billions it can't afford to invade, conquer, and occupy another country.

To the members of the Tea Party, let me say this: You are a bunch of useless hypocrites. You are all a bunch of fat white racist twits who not only can't stand that a Democrat resides in the White House, but that he is also black.

To the Southern Tea party members: The South lost the war. Get over it. Someone always loses a war. If you don't want that someone to be you, then you shouldn't start wars in the first place. And yes, you DID start it. Check the history books. The Southern states seceded, and they fired on Fort Sumter first, which is the battle that started the civil war.

To the Northern Tea party members: Your ancestors are spinning in their graves. They fought and died to free an entire class of people being held in soul-destroying servitude. And now, a century and a half later, when one of their descendants holds the highest office in the land, you associate yourselves with people who are no better than those who once wore white robes and pointy hats and burned churches in the name of God! How can you possibly be proud of that?!

Is This the Definition of Irony?

Think about it for a second: A picture of a Polaroid camera taken with the very instrument that basically made it obsolete--the digital camera phone.

By the way? $10 for a camera that no one can use because hardly anyone can find film for it any more. Maybe if they paid me $10, I might take it off their hands.

Drain it Out

The three regular readers of this blog know that I recently spent a week on vacation in the beautiful state of Hawai'i. And in the course of that visit I took a tour of the USS Arizona Memorial, where I found the name of a deceased sailor who had the same initials as mine.

For those of you that have never visited the memorial (I will assume that's everyone) you should know that a tiny trickle of oil still leaks from the remains of the ship constantly. It's considered to be the tears of the dead, or possibly the ashes of the fallen,

But I recently saw a documentary about the sunken ship. And it seems that the small oil leak from the sunken fuel oil bunker has the potential to become something much worse. It seems that after nearly 70 years of lying sunken in 70 feet of salt water and 20 feet of mud, there is the possibility that this leaking oil can become a deluge.

I know that there is considerable reluctance to desecrate the underwater tomb of 1177 dead sailors, but let me say this: I really don't think they will mind if we sink a hose into their tomb and try to prevent a major biological disaster.

I'm just sayin'.

Harvey Pekar (October 8th, 1939-July 12th, 2010)

Those apparently in the know in the world of underground comics are mourning the death of Harvey Pekar. If you have no idea who I'm talking about, I'm not surprised. He was the author of the underground comic book series American Splendor.

This series was unique in that it did not feature an heroic crime fighter or an avenging vigilante of some sort. No, it simply featured Harvey. Being, well, Harvey. Every day. It was his life as he knew it. What made it interesting was that this guy had a life that was, shall we say, less than interesting. He lived alone. He worked as a file clerk at a V.A. hospital. He collected Jazz records. He got mad at people. A LOT.

But people were eating this comic up. Maybe it was because they were sardonically funny. Maybe it was just because people liked to read them and think to themselves, "Hey, my life may be bad, but at least I'm better off than that guy.

But these comics made Harvey's life better. He met his future wife because she was a fan. He appeared on David Letterman many times (until he got tired of being Letterman's punching bag and told him off on national TV). And then, a few years ago, an HBO movie was made about his life.

Now, HBO doesn't make very much that's bad (Although I really didn't get the point of Entourage. Seriously. It's a series about an actor and his three hanger-on friends who go around Hollyweird trying to get laid all the time. And they made a series about this?!)

But I digress. HBO usually makes quality films, is what I'm saying. And I'd been wanting to see this film ever since I read this review a few years ago.

(By the way, he's not really naked. Trust me when I say you should be thankful for that)

So I resolved that the first time I found the film in the library I would check it out. So I did a couple of years ago. And I took it home and didn't watch it. I do that a lot. Mostly because I'm usually too busy watching my West Wing DVD's.

But this past Saturday, I found it again. It might have been fate trying to tell me something. So I checked it out, and took it home where it would probably not be watched again.

But then I read today about Harvey's death. So the first thing I did when I got home was watch the movie.

It's brilliant. Paul Giamatti plays Harvey spot on. And the way you know this is that the real Harvey Pekar narrates the film. And even acts in it a little. And most of the film's scenes were taken from Harvey's comic books, and since they are basically about his life, any movie taken from these books can't help but be pretty accurate.

But perhaps what makes the movie even more poignant now is the fact that I knew as I was watching it that the person being portrayed is now dead. At one point in the movie, while undergoing treatments for cancer, Harvey asks his wife if, since he is a guy who writes about himself (I'm paraphrasing) in a comic book, when he dies, will his character go on living, or will he just fade away?

I have never read any of the American Splendor comic books. And, since I'm sure that with Pekar's death the price of back issues will inflate exponentially, I probably never will.

But I salute you Harvey Pekar. Somehow you managed to take a dull and meaningless life and turn it into something better simply by doing the one thing you were apparently very good at: Telling people about your life.

You are my idol.

The First of 2 Envelopes

I've been pondering lately the current Administration's efforts to dig this country out of the mess it was left in by the previous administration and congress. Most of these efforts have been partially effective at best. And with the Gulf oil spill only making matters worse, this Administration may never accomplish a tenth of what it hoped to accomplish.

I am reminded of a story I was once told about a new Russian premier. I'm sure the story isn't true, and I don't remember exactly how it went, but here is the gist:

The premier of the Russian government resigned in disgrace after his country suffered a major crisis. On his first day on the job, the newly appointed premier walked into his new office. On his cleaned off desk, he found 2 envelopes left for him by his predecessor. On one of them was written, "Open this envelope the first time something goes horribly wrong. The second envelope said "open this envelope the second time something goes horribly wrong.

So, not too long after he took office, something went horribly wrong. The premier opened the envelope. In it was a single piece of paper on which was written, "blame it all on me". The premier followed the advice. And he thanked his lucky stars that the man who came before him had been so smart.

A few months later, something else went horribly wrong. The premier opened the second envelope, hoping to find another way out. In the envelope was a second piece of paper. On it was written simply, "Time for you to prepare two envelopes.

I don't know how much longer Obama can keep reading the piece of paper from the first envelope.

It'll Never Happen Again

I was flipping through the pictures I downloaded from my camera phone and I came across this little number:



So why did I happen to snap a picture of an envelope sitting on the edge of a box, you may ask? Well, Chester, I'll tell you.

The reason I took that picture is this: The box it's sitting on is an empty paper box I keep near my desk for recyclables. On this particular occasion, I happened to flip that empty envelope towards the box. And--I swear to Almighty God this is true--That's where it landed. Perfectly balanced, on the edge, with nothing on either side holding it up (it's hard to tell from the picture I admit, but there's nothing inside the box supporting it, I promise). That box is nothing more than a standard paper box, with sides 3 millimeters thick, if that.

So, I snapped a picture. If I could have shot a video of that envelope as it landed there, I would have done that too.

I don't know what course of events conspired to control the flight of that envelope so that it landed perfectly balanced on the edge of an open box. It's a shot I could never make again in a million tries. It's a shot Larry Bird couldn't make in a million tries. Go ahead--try it some time. Take a standard empty #10 envelope, seal it shut, cut the top open with a letter opener, and flip it about 5 feet through the air and try to get it to land perfectly flat on the edge of an open paper box. Then try it again a hundred more times.

You'll never do it.

I am Dying

Well THAT got your attention, didn't it?!

Seriously, though, I think I am slowly boiling to death in the liquefied remains of my own organs.

It is REALLY hot here.

The daytime temperature is in the upper nineties. The humidity is above 60%. Mix this and stir and you get a heat index of over 100 degrees. Walk more than 2 blocks outside in this weather and you can't help but feel like you've just taken a shower in hot, dirty, smelly water.

You'd think after more than 30 years living here, I'd be used to it by now. But every year seems to get hotter, wetter, and more unlivable.

This may be a product of global warming. This may be a product of getting older. This may be a product of random summer weather fluctuations. It may be a combination of all these factors, plus a few more that I haven't thought of.

What's the solution? Where do we move to? The only state of the union that I've ever visited that has a consistent climate is Arizona. That state has 5 days of rain per year, and the rest of the time it experiences constant desert temperatures. Not my cup of tea. Plus I might get deported to Sweden after getting stopped for speeding and not being able to produce proper citizenship documents.

What? Too soon? Before you complain, Arizona, you deserve all the bad jokes you have coming your way. I'm not the first. I DEFINITELY won't be the last.

It's Finally Happened

So, I've finally gone and done it.

You see, I needed a new cellphone. My old flip phone broke, and in order to get a new one, I needed to stick with Verizon, a company I hate. Note: There is no cellphone company I don't hate. Just to be clear.

And, as I approached the phone sales kiosk, I had in my pocket a coupon for $130 off of an LG Ally.



(By the way, to get that picture here, I needed to photograph it with my regular digital camera, download it to my computer, and upload it to this post. The phone has a great camera on it. Its only limitation is that it can't take a picture of itself. With all the advances in technology, no one has ever been able to invent a camera that can take a picture of itself. Probably because there's not a big demand for it.)

So I bought it. With the coupon, it was free. It's the internet service that costs $30 a month. On top of the phone service.

In addition, this phone has the ability to find out where I am at all times.

This phone has done a lot for me. I can pick up NPR on the phone and listen live. I can type in any song title and hear it in seconds. I can get addicted to Sudoku--wait, that's not a good thing.

Seriously. Do not get involved with Sudoku. You'll never be able to stop.

But I am now officially watched by Big Brother. Willingly. God help me.

Edit: Oh. Have you seen those new Droid commercials? The ones that feature a human eye frantically trying to follow dozens of images, before finally becoming a robotic eye?

How far off can it be?

The Good Guys

For many months now I have lamented on the dearth of watchable TV shows coming out of Hollyweird.

But for many Monday nights now I have enjoyed the new summer TV series The Good Guys.

First, it stars one of my favorite actors from The West Wing, Bradley Whitford, sporting a completely real molesterstache.

Second, it's well written. That's an extreme rare in this day and age of "reality" TV. It can't be easy for the regular networks to come up with pre-scripted material.

Third, this series does not make the mistake of trying to take itself seriously. That is a surefire recipe for success.

Long live The Good Guys!

So I saw it

In a previous post, I questioned whether or not I should see the new Karate Kid. Well, events of the week prevented me from posting my opinions.

And here they are.

I saw it. I was entertained, which is rare for me when it comes to what is coming out of Hollyweird these days.

I was also amused by the little touches, which were an homage to the original: The instructor at one point spreads car wax on his car. He reads the instructions on how to compete in a tournament. He uses chopsticks to catch a (dead) fly.

I also couldn't help comparing it to the original time and time again. The protagonist gets in trouble originally over a girl. He is nearly beaten to death (and rescued by his future instructor) after pulling a prank on his tormentors that goes wrong. He is forced into humiliating repetitive labor that he grows disgusted with, only to learn that it is an important part of his training. He discovers that his instructor is hiding a devastating secret that is only revealed after finding said instructor strongly intoxicated.

It's all there.

But it was still entertaining.

And I recommend this to anyone who has not seen the original. You will enjoy it.

For everyone else, your enjoyment will be dimmed by the constant comparisons. And you may not find it as enjoyable as you could have.

It is not Right

Today I attended the funeral of the six year old daughter of a co-worker. She died from the injuries she sustained after being struck by a car.

She was six years old.

She was six years old.

SHE WAS SIX YEARS OLD!!!!!!

It is. Not. Right.

Every time I attend a funeral, I hear the same themes: They are with God now. They are in a better place. God has a plan. We will move on.

This was a funeral for a six year old. God couldn't wait a few decades?! A better place? What better place is there than growing up in a home with parents and siblings who love you?! A Plan?! What kind of cruel God takes a six year old girl away from parents who love her?! What kind of sick, twisted plan is that?!

At times like this, these are the questions that we ask.

During the sermon, the priest brought up the troubles experienced by Job. As everything good in Job's life was stripped away, he cursed himself, his life, and the day he was born. The one thing he did not curse was God.

I do not curse God. But I question His wisdom on days like this. And I wonder about His plan. Why is He so cruel to those who praise Him?

Maybe someday I will know the answer to that question. Maybe.

A Decision to Make

For months now I have been grappling with a difficult decision: do I go to see the new Karate Kid?

In the first place, the title is wrong: it should be the Kung Fu kid. And I realize that Karate and Kung Fu are both westernizations of Oriental martial arts that have existed far longer than Hollyweird has been aware of them.

Second, I watched the first Karate Kid more times than I care to count, both in theaters and on video. Hey, what can I say: I empathized with the story: a high school nerd, picked on by bullies. I only wish there had been my own version of Mr. Miyagi to defend me. It might have gotten me a lot farther than I am today.

Third, I can't help but think that I can't watch this movie without comparing it to the original. As will anyone of my generation.

In its defense, this movie features an actual 12 year old playing a 12 year old. (Ralph Macchio was 22 when he played a high school sophomore). The movie also stars Jackie Chan, who has starred in dozens of martial arts themed movies, and frequently performed his own stunts. Pat Morita, who portrayed the original Mr. Miyagi, readily admitted that he knew little or nothing of the martial arts. His stunts in the movie and its sequels were performed by doubles.

I have to decide if i will see it.

Future updates will tell.

Why?

Today, I learned that my former boss, a former Republican elected official, apparently jumped to his death from the fifth floor of a Hospital parking garage.

Note: I will use no names or other specific references in this post. Those who want to know who I am talking about can find out easily enough.

I currently know next to nothing about the circumstances. This was a man who, at 53, apparently decided that it was not worth going on.

As of this writing, it is being considered a suicide. The fact that it happened in the parking garage of a hospital is telling. I will wait and see if anything further develops.

I am sad, angry, confused, and devastated, in no particular order. This man ran the office I worked in for 14 years. He was well-liked by almost everyone who worked for him. When he lost his job, It was a blow to nearly everyone there, myself included. It should be noted that I don't like many Republicans. I liked this guy. He wasn't afraid to put politics aside and do the job he was elected to do. It's an attitude that probably cost him his job.

I can't imagine what can drive a person to decide that it is no longer worth the effort to continue living. I hope that I will never reach that decision. I have family and friends. And a dog.

We Love You Ah-Nuld!

Ever since Arnold Schwarzenegger became the Republican Governor of California, I've refused to watch a single one of his movies. Fortunately, this really hasn't been much of a sacrifice since most of his movies sucked dirty ass water.

But recently, he said something that may just redeem him in my eyes:

"I was also going to give a commencement speech in Arizona. But with my accent, I was worried that they would try to deport me back to Austria. So I canceled that idea right away."

Oh mercy, that's funny.

I must admit I'm of a mixed mind about this legislation recently passed in Arizona. On the one hand, I'm definitely opposed to illegal immigration. But on the other hand, I'm opposed to legislation being passed that allows--in fact forces--the police to accost any citizen with brown skin walking down the street and demand that they produce proof of citizenship. It's the first step on a dangerously slippery slope.

Think about it for a minute. Do YOU carry around proof of your citizenship? I don't. The closest thing is my driver's license. Which may not be enough. Someday.

They Served Too

Today is the day we honor the fallen members of our Armed Forces.

The question I ask is how many have fallen who have been given no honor at all.

Let's start with:

Blacks: During the American Revolution, any black soldier who fought in George Washington's army was promised his freedom, and generous payment for it. This promise was frequently never kept. Many of them were even returned to slavery after their service.

Women: Women served actively in the military during every war since the Revolution. And yet most of the time their service was never recognized or rewarded. In most cases, it was often ignored.

Homosexuals: The case of Margarethe Cammermeyer springs immediately to mind. This is a woman--not American born, but a naturalized citizen--who dedicated her life to serving America as a military officer. But when she revealed she was a lesbian, she was immediately dishonorably discharged. The narrow-minded military policy against gays once again deprived it of a valuable asset, a college-educated, highly skilled nurse, for no other reason than her sexual orientation.

On this day, when we remember our fallen military heroes, let us also pause to remember those who will never have a chance to receive the same honors, because they were simply born at or of the wrong place, the wrong time, the wrong gender, the wrong race, or the wrong orientation.

A Random Thought

Today I had a random thought, which I think has potential.

Today we were treated to the theatrical release of Prince of Persia: Sands of Time. This movie is apparently based on a popular video game.

An aside: Why would the movie's makers cast Jake Gyllenhaal as the titular character of the movie?! He's about as Persian as Woody Allen! I realize that having a popular actor helps out at the box office, but surely there is some well-known actor of Persian descent who could have filled the role...

But I digress. In the past few years, we have seen a number of movies derived from immensely popular video games. In no particular order, we have seen often more than one film based on Mortal Kombat, Doom, Resident Evil, Max Payne, Street Fighter, Tomb Raider and Final Fantasy, just to name a few. The list gets bigger if you include animated movies produced in Japan.

The movies themselves have met with generally mixed reviews. It may be impossible to make a movie that lives up to the expectations of the fans of a game that is loved by millions, or tens of millions, of fans.

But my thought was this: why not try tapping the people who make these games, who obviously know how to create popular entertainment?

There's a chance this has already happened. Maybe some of the people who create these wildly popular games already work in Hollyweird.

But, given what's coming out of there these days, I seriously doubt it.

Meanwhile, I'll keep waiting for the adaptation of Half-Life. It's got to come eventually...

Why is Anyone Surprised?

Anyone who has followed the news over the past few weeks has watched as BP has tried--and failed--many times to cap the uncapped underwater oil well that is spilling tens of thousands of gallons of oil into the Gulf of Mexico every day. They have also watched as the government has stood back and waited for them to fix the problem, using everything from drilling a second hole into the gushing broken well to cap it to trying to use a giant concrete condom to cap the gusher. Nothing has worked--yet.

Why are people surprised that nothing has worked?

Companies that tap our planet's natural resources to produce energy have only one interest in common--to get as much profit as they can out of the ground with as little expense as possible. Safety be damned.

We have seen this happen time and time again with coal mine disasters. Miners die, inevitably as a result of safety cutbacks. And now we have seen an offshore oil rig that failed as a result of shoddy safety practices. And that failed offshore rig is continuing to pump oil into the Gulf. It is guaranteed to become the worst environmental disaster in history. The Gulf states may never recover from it.

But the corporations will survive. Because they always do.

The Lost--cops out

OK so it had no choice.

What else could it be but a cop out?

It turns out he was dead all along. Lame, lame, LAME!

It could not possibly have lived up to the expectations everyone had.

I should expect no less from the man who took the Gene Roddenberry Star Trek Universe out into the courtyard, tied it to a tree, gave it a cigarette, and executed it.

I'm talking to YOU, J.J. Abrams!

OK What the Hell?!

THAT is a finale?!

Please post a comment if you think the finale of LOST sucked the sweat from a dead bear's anus.

Are. You. Kidding. Me.

Edit 11:11 PM Well the finale has gone past the normal ending of prime time. We will wait...