Whenever Coma Dolls are opening up for some huge arena act like The Strokes or Panic! At The Disco
I plan to use my fame to sleep with Kim Kardashian.
Then when she is following me around at a party, acting all clingy, holding onto my arm, I will say
"Hey sweetie, why don't you go freshen my martini?" and hand her my empty glass.
When she walks away I will say in my drollest Downton Abbey accent "She says she's a Kardashian, but she acts more like a Kling-on."
Then all my nerdy friends and I will laugh through our noses at her, slap live long and proper high-fives and push up our glasses at the same time.
You just got played by a geek, Miss Kardashian.
Checkmate, bitch.
Friday, May 9, 2014
Tuesday, May 6, 2014
Thomas Jefferson Would Beat Yo Ass
People who (mis)interpret the second amendment to the constitution are too insane to own deadly weapons.
They keep saying "Der tryin to take our guns."
They are the same people who say of immigrants "Dey took our jobs."
No one wants YOUR gun you jerkoff.
WE WANT TO PROTECT YOUR RIGHT TO OWN A GUN BY HAVING REASONABLE GUN LEGISLATION THAT WILL KEEP GUNS OUT OF THE HANDS OF VIOLENT OFFENDERS.
These paranoid conspiracy theorists do NOT speak for the people.
They are, in fact, lunatic fringe.
The NRA has 1.5 million members (even though the fudge their numbers and say they have twice that many.)
1.5 million FOR and 300 million AGAINST.
The intelligent people of America DEMAND mandatory criminal and psychological background checks for potential gun owners.
If you have an anger problem then you do not need a gun.
If you have psychological impairments such as schizophrenia none of us want you armed.
If you have a history of violence then sorry, no gun for you.
WE WANT OUR RESPONSIBLE CITIZENS TO OWN GUNS.
If these common sense laws offend you then I doubt that YOU want what is best for our country.
The only thing that stops a bad guy with a gun...IS TO KEEP SO MANY BAD GUYS FROM GETTING GUNS.
These gun nuts keep saying that they will use their guns to take on the government one day.
Seriously?!!!
You really think our own government is going to use it's own military against it's own citizens?
First of all that is paranoid thinking.
Second of all your AR-15 assault rifle would not help you against tanks and the advanced weaponry our military has.
You are talking crazy talk while we are pleading for REASONABLE regulation.
When our forefathers wrote the constitution, the most powerful firearm was A MUSKET!!
It took six minutes to load and fired one shot that was only effective at distances of 6-8 feet.
Don't tell me Thomas Jefferson wanted you to own an AR-15.
He would beat your ass for saying some shit like that.
They keep saying "Der tryin to take our guns."
They are the same people who say of immigrants "Dey took our jobs."
No one wants YOUR gun you jerkoff.
WE WANT TO PROTECT YOUR RIGHT TO OWN A GUN BY HAVING REASONABLE GUN LEGISLATION THAT WILL KEEP GUNS OUT OF THE HANDS OF VIOLENT OFFENDERS.
These paranoid conspiracy theorists do NOT speak for the people.
They are, in fact, lunatic fringe.
The NRA has 1.5 million members (even though the fudge their numbers and say they have twice that many.)
1.5 million FOR and 300 million AGAINST.
The intelligent people of America DEMAND mandatory criminal and psychological background checks for potential gun owners.
If you have an anger problem then you do not need a gun.
If you have psychological impairments such as schizophrenia none of us want you armed.
If you have a history of violence then sorry, no gun for you.
WE WANT OUR RESPONSIBLE CITIZENS TO OWN GUNS.
If these common sense laws offend you then I doubt that YOU want what is best for our country.
The only thing that stops a bad guy with a gun...IS TO KEEP SO MANY BAD GUYS FROM GETTING GUNS.
These gun nuts keep saying that they will use their guns to take on the government one day.
Seriously?!!!
You really think our own government is going to use it's own military against it's own citizens?
First of all that is paranoid thinking.
Second of all your AR-15 assault rifle would not help you against tanks and the advanced weaponry our military has.
You are talking crazy talk while we are pleading for REASONABLE regulation.
When our forefathers wrote the constitution, the most powerful firearm was A MUSKET!!
It took six minutes to load and fired one shot that was only effective at distances of 6-8 feet.
Don't tell me Thomas Jefferson wanted you to own an AR-15.
He would beat your ass for saying some shit like that.
Sunday, May 4, 2014
David Ladue Voted Most Like to Be a Minnesota School Shooter
I've processing the near-miss school shooting in Minnesota.
For those of you who didn't see the story a 17 year old honor roll student had planned to kill his family with a rifle, set a diversionary fire (to pull police away from his school) then drive to the school and while THE ENTIRE SCHOOL was having lunch, detonate several pressure cooker bombs, killing every person in the cafeteria and waiting outside the lunch room exit, murdering those who escaped the bombs as they came out.
His plan was solid and he had the artillery.
Nine guns and 7 finished bombs (he was working on more when the police caught him).
He had been working on his plan for 10 months.
He had written a 150 page manifesto about it.
He was not bullied.
He was well-liked.
So what gives?
I am tired of people saying "mental illness".
What does that even mean?
Isn't that just the way we describe things that make no sense to us?
The principal said "These events are the canary in the coal mine." meaning that there were the symptom of a much bigger problem in our culture.
This just doesn't happen in other countries.
And when it HAS happened, the country's governments have reacted with extreme measures to keep it from reoccurring.
So how is it that we have this happen so many times in America that we barely bat an eye?
What is wrong with our culture?
Why are these kids always male?
Why are they always white?
Why do they always come from middle class or suburban families?
Why aren't poor kids the ones doing the mass shootings?
Why do the predominance of these shootings seem to happen in blue states?
If it were YOUR kid, would you have known what he was about to do?
He was into heavy metal.
So fucking what?
He liked horror movies.
Who the fuck doesn't?
He was said to love violent video games.
Like every kid in America.
He hunted and killed animals.
Hmmmmm
He idolized Eric Harris and Dillon Tibold (the Columbine killers).
HOLY FUCKING SHIT!!!!
People knew this and they didn't see this coming?!?!
Who the fuck idolizes school shooters?!
He wanted to do the shooting on 4/20, not in celebration of marijuana, like a normal teenager, but in celebration of the anniversary of the Columbine massacre.
But he couldn't, because 4/20 was Easter Sunday and school was not in session.
So he decided to make more bombs and do it in May.
And then he fucked up and got busted.
He said that he was going to kill people until the swat team killed him.
But now he is in custody and he seems to like talking.
So maybe we can learn about what goes on in the mind of a spree killer.
I really want to know.
I want to know why this happens so we can prevent it from ever happening again.
I want to know why this happens in America all the time, and doesn't happen other places.
Oh and one more thing.
They are trying him as a minor, which means he will be free when he is 21.
I am outraged by this.
If they try him as an adult he will be free at age 35.
Still too soon.
The guy was going to kill 600 children!!!!
He tested his bombs on the elementary school playground!!!!
Seriously just kill this prick.
But study him first.
Find out why this happens.
Then put a bullet in his head.
For those of you who didn't see the story a 17 year old honor roll student had planned to kill his family with a rifle, set a diversionary fire (to pull police away from his school) then drive to the school and while THE ENTIRE SCHOOL was having lunch, detonate several pressure cooker bombs, killing every person in the cafeteria and waiting outside the lunch room exit, murdering those who escaped the bombs as they came out.
His plan was solid and he had the artillery.
Nine guns and 7 finished bombs (he was working on more when the police caught him).
He had been working on his plan for 10 months.
He had written a 150 page manifesto about it.
He was not bullied.
He was well-liked.
So what gives?
I am tired of people saying "mental illness".
What does that even mean?
Isn't that just the way we describe things that make no sense to us?
The principal said "These events are the canary in the coal mine." meaning that there were the symptom of a much bigger problem in our culture.
This just doesn't happen in other countries.
And when it HAS happened, the country's governments have reacted with extreme measures to keep it from reoccurring.
So how is it that we have this happen so many times in America that we barely bat an eye?
What is wrong with our culture?
Why are these kids always male?
Why are they always white?
Why do they always come from middle class or suburban families?
Why aren't poor kids the ones doing the mass shootings?
Why do the predominance of these shootings seem to happen in blue states?
If it were YOUR kid, would you have known what he was about to do?
He was into heavy metal.
So fucking what?
He liked horror movies.
Who the fuck doesn't?
He was said to love violent video games.
Like every kid in America.
He hunted and killed animals.
Hmmmmm
He idolized Eric Harris and Dillon Tibold (the Columbine killers).
HOLY FUCKING SHIT!!!!
People knew this and they didn't see this coming?!?!
Who the fuck idolizes school shooters?!
He wanted to do the shooting on 4/20, not in celebration of marijuana, like a normal teenager, but in celebration of the anniversary of the Columbine massacre.
But he couldn't, because 4/20 was Easter Sunday and school was not in session.
So he decided to make more bombs and do it in May.
And then he fucked up and got busted.
He said that he was going to kill people until the swat team killed him.
But now he is in custody and he seems to like talking.
So maybe we can learn about what goes on in the mind of a spree killer.
I really want to know.
I want to know why this happens so we can prevent it from ever happening again.
I want to know why this happens in America all the time, and doesn't happen other places.
Oh and one more thing.
They are trying him as a minor, which means he will be free when he is 21.
I am outraged by this.
If they try him as an adult he will be free at age 35.
Still too soon.
The guy was going to kill 600 children!!!!
He tested his bombs on the elementary school playground!!!!
Seriously just kill this prick.
But study him first.
Find out why this happens.
Then put a bullet in his head.
Tuesday, April 8, 2014
WOMEN ARE C-WORDS
WOMEN ARE C-WORDS
Why do men rape?
Why do men murder?
Why do men commit armed robbery?
Why don't women do these things?
More than 90% of violent crimes are committed by men.
Why?
Is there something in that single chromosome pair that makes mean angry and violent?
Does testosterone cause all this?
Or is there something else?
Women have always been told to be compliant.
While men have been told to be competitive.
Now, at last, as we move towards a more enlightened culture, women are encouraged to assert themselves and be...and be...what exactly?
We tell women to not be compliant, but after that aren't we telling them to repeat the mistakes that men have made?
Is that really something to aspire to?
What if we taught our men to be less competitive?
What happens to a little boy who doesn't compete?
Not just on the sports field, but in every aspect of life?
To be male is to compete for everything.
Compete for the girl.
Have the best car.
The flaring of nostrils and posturing.
The implied violence towards the weak.
It shapes us from early childhood.
I said to my daughter "You know what I like about females? Even if they are not friends, and one of them is in trouble, another female seems to come to their aid."
She said "Yeah. That's called girl code."
I said "There is also a guy code, but it is all about who is the manliest. It certainly doesn't involve us helping out other males when they are weak. I think girl code is better."
The average adult male has one friend.
The average adult female has five.
Women are social whereas men are isolated and competitive.
This was not wired into our chromosomes.
This is what happens when we allow culture to dictate gender roles.
So fuck compliance, but what about the other C-words women seem to embrace, compassion, community, camaraderie, caring, connection?
These words are not synonymous with being male.
If males practice caring and connection with other males they are considered weak.
Men cannot talk intimately with each other.
Everything is a joke, a form of one-upsmanship.
Everything must be conquered.
A man listens to another man's story and then seeks to tell one that makes the first man's story sound minuscule.
The world is nothing more than a constant pissing contest for men.
Every woman is privately objectified as the only safe male camaraderie is when it is interlaced with competition.
If we are on a team to defeat the enemy then we are allowed to show connection to other men.
So in an attempt for males to be able to bond with each other, they treat women as the enemy and something to be defeated...conquered.
If a man can assure another man that he will fuck any female that draws breath then and only then does he qualify for the tiniest of male affections, because then he is safe.
Men live their entire lives competing and now, as we are finally working towards uplifting our women towards equality, we have simultaneously duped them into thinking power means to be like a man?!
Perhaps women were more evolved all along.
They aren't the ones doing the raping and the murdering.
Perhaps we should start teaching our boys the core values that we encourage in our girls, instead of telling women to be more competitive.
Ten thousand years of male dominance has brought us to this.
Perhaps it is time to try sometime else.
Why do men rape?
Why do men murder?
Why do men commit armed robbery?
Why don't women do these things?
More than 90% of violent crimes are committed by men.
Why?
Is there something in that single chromosome pair that makes mean angry and violent?
Does testosterone cause all this?
Or is there something else?
Women have always been told to be compliant.
While men have been told to be competitive.
Now, at last, as we move towards a more enlightened culture, women are encouraged to assert themselves and be...and be...what exactly?
We tell women to not be compliant, but after that aren't we telling them to repeat the mistakes that men have made?
Is that really something to aspire to?
What if we taught our men to be less competitive?
What happens to a little boy who doesn't compete?
Not just on the sports field, but in every aspect of life?
To be male is to compete for everything.
Compete for the girl.
Have the best car.
The flaring of nostrils and posturing.
The implied violence towards the weak.
It shapes us from early childhood.
I said to my daughter "You know what I like about females? Even if they are not friends, and one of them is in trouble, another female seems to come to their aid."
She said "Yeah. That's called girl code."
I said "There is also a guy code, but it is all about who is the manliest. It certainly doesn't involve us helping out other males when they are weak. I think girl code is better."
The average adult male has one friend.
The average adult female has five.
Women are social whereas men are isolated and competitive.
This was not wired into our chromosomes.
This is what happens when we allow culture to dictate gender roles.
So fuck compliance, but what about the other C-words women seem to embrace, compassion, community, camaraderie, caring, connection?
These words are not synonymous with being male.
If males practice caring and connection with other males they are considered weak.
Men cannot talk intimately with each other.
Everything is a joke, a form of one-upsmanship.
Everything must be conquered.
A man listens to another man's story and then seeks to tell one that makes the first man's story sound minuscule.
The world is nothing more than a constant pissing contest for men.
Every woman is privately objectified as the only safe male camaraderie is when it is interlaced with competition.
If we are on a team to defeat the enemy then we are allowed to show connection to other men.
So in an attempt for males to be able to bond with each other, they treat women as the enemy and something to be defeated...conquered.
If a man can assure another man that he will fuck any female that draws breath then and only then does he qualify for the tiniest of male affections, because then he is safe.
Men live their entire lives competing and now, as we are finally working towards uplifting our women towards equality, we have simultaneously duped them into thinking power means to be like a man?!
Perhaps women were more evolved all along.
They aren't the ones doing the raping and the murdering.
Perhaps we should start teaching our boys the core values that we encourage in our girls, instead of telling women to be more competitive.
Ten thousand years of male dominance has brought us to this.
Perhaps it is time to try sometime else.
Thursday, April 3, 2014
Defining Freedom in Amuuurica
I once heard someone say
"Sacrifice means giving up something good, to achieve something great."
Americans love to talk about freedom, but I wonder if many Americans even understand what freedom really is.
It is virtually impossible to get anything done without some brainwashed zealot screaming about their FREEDOM.
Having lunch with a buddy of mine, who works for the FBI, shortly after the Aurora, Colorado Bat Man shooting, I asked him
"This guy bought $1200 worth of ammo for automatic weapons online. How did you let that slip under the radar?"
He said "We should have caught it, but we caught this one."
With that he showed me a news story where the FBI busted a man who was planning on shooting up the premier of the new Twilight movie.
Yet people cry about the idea that the FBI could be monitoring their internet usage.
THAT is a freedom I am willing to give up if it means we can stop psychos from killing our children.
Let the FBI see the porn I wank to.
It's really not that exciting.
Let them monitor my Facebooking.
Seriously they will be bored to tears.
THERE IS A DIFFERENCE BETWEEN BEING MONITORED AND BEING OPPRESSED.
We have the technology to prevent senseless crime before it even occurs if we implement it properly and we should not let the paranoid rantings of a minority of people spreading propaganda keep us from living in safety.
We all have to be willing to make sacrifices for the greater good.
What if it was your wife who was murdered?
Your husband?
Your child?
Shot to death while watching a movie or walking down the street.
Would that change your mind?
The FREEDOM word gets thrown around when people talk about guns as well.
Hey I'm all for it.
If you want a gun, have one, but register it and pass a psychological and criminal background check.
That way I know the guns are getting into the hands of the good guys and not psychos and criminals.
But the mere mention of a reasonable measure such as this has people hollering about their FREEDOM.
Leading me to believe that most people do not even know what freedom means.
"Do you mean that every American should have the right to own a firearm?"
"Hell yeah!" they say
"So every American should be allowed to own a musket? As this was the most powerful firearm when The Second Amendment was drafted?"
"Times have changed. Now we need more advanced guns. The criminals have them. We need them."
"So every American should be allowed to own a rocket launcher? A tank? A suitcase nuke?"
"Well that's ridiculous." they say, but where do they draw the line?
The truth is that they DO NOT KNOW what is right.
Their views are arbitrary.
But they are loud and well funded.
What they lack in education they make up for in volume.
They will not be silent and neither should we.
Compassionate, intelligent people must always be vigilant.
We must not lose out to paranoid people who believe they must stockpile an arsenal to battle our own government.
That is insane thinking.
If the government really wants you in an internment camp, your M16 is NOT going to help you, pal.
They will open, flash and clear your house so fast that you will be incarcerated before you wake up.
The fact is that our government doesn't want us in concentration camps, as crazy right wing talk show hosts would have us believe.
They want us shopping, spending money and stimulating the economy.
Freedom doesn't mean "I can do what I want whenever I want and others have to deal with the consequences."
Freedom doesn't mean I can drive a hummer and let my kids deal with the consequences to the environment.
Freedom doesn't mean I can shop at a store who uses sweat shop labor and treats it's employees like shit so I can save a few pennies at the expense of the happiness of others.
Freedom doesn't mean I can throw 1 million pieces of Styrofoam and plastic into the ground and expect someone else to deal with it.
Freedom means we all work together and make sacrifices so that we can go from having a good country to having the best country.
Freedom isn't about what's best for ME.
Freedom is about what's best for EVERYONE.
"Sacrifice means giving up something good, to achieve something great."
Americans love to talk about freedom, but I wonder if many Americans even understand what freedom really is.
It is virtually impossible to get anything done without some brainwashed zealot screaming about their FREEDOM.
Having lunch with a buddy of mine, who works for the FBI, shortly after the Aurora, Colorado Bat Man shooting, I asked him
"This guy bought $1200 worth of ammo for automatic weapons online. How did you let that slip under the radar?"
He said "We should have caught it, but we caught this one."
With that he showed me a news story where the FBI busted a man who was planning on shooting up the premier of the new Twilight movie.
Yet people cry about the idea that the FBI could be monitoring their internet usage.
THAT is a freedom I am willing to give up if it means we can stop psychos from killing our children.
Let the FBI see the porn I wank to.
It's really not that exciting.
Let them monitor my Facebooking.
Seriously they will be bored to tears.
THERE IS A DIFFERENCE BETWEEN BEING MONITORED AND BEING OPPRESSED.
We have the technology to prevent senseless crime before it even occurs if we implement it properly and we should not let the paranoid rantings of a minority of people spreading propaganda keep us from living in safety.
We all have to be willing to make sacrifices for the greater good.
What if it was your wife who was murdered?
Your husband?
Your child?
Shot to death while watching a movie or walking down the street.
Would that change your mind?
The FREEDOM word gets thrown around when people talk about guns as well.
Hey I'm all for it.
If you want a gun, have one, but register it and pass a psychological and criminal background check.
That way I know the guns are getting into the hands of the good guys and not psychos and criminals.
But the mere mention of a reasonable measure such as this has people hollering about their FREEDOM.
Leading me to believe that most people do not even know what freedom means.
"Do you mean that every American should have the right to own a firearm?"
"Hell yeah!" they say
"So every American should be allowed to own a musket? As this was the most powerful firearm when The Second Amendment was drafted?"
"Times have changed. Now we need more advanced guns. The criminals have them. We need them."
"So every American should be allowed to own a rocket launcher? A tank? A suitcase nuke?"
"Well that's ridiculous." they say, but where do they draw the line?
The truth is that they DO NOT KNOW what is right.
Their views are arbitrary.
But they are loud and well funded.
What they lack in education they make up for in volume.
They will not be silent and neither should we.
Compassionate, intelligent people must always be vigilant.
We must not lose out to paranoid people who believe they must stockpile an arsenal to battle our own government.
That is insane thinking.
If the government really wants you in an internment camp, your M16 is NOT going to help you, pal.
They will open, flash and clear your house so fast that you will be incarcerated before you wake up.
The fact is that our government doesn't want us in concentration camps, as crazy right wing talk show hosts would have us believe.
They want us shopping, spending money and stimulating the economy.
Freedom doesn't mean "I can do what I want whenever I want and others have to deal with the consequences."
Freedom doesn't mean I can drive a hummer and let my kids deal with the consequences to the environment.
Freedom doesn't mean I can shop at a store who uses sweat shop labor and treats it's employees like shit so I can save a few pennies at the expense of the happiness of others.
Freedom doesn't mean I can throw 1 million pieces of Styrofoam and plastic into the ground and expect someone else to deal with it.
Freedom means we all work together and make sacrifices so that we can go from having a good country to having the best country.
Freedom isn't about what's best for ME.
Freedom is about what's best for EVERYONE.
Tuesday, April 1, 2014
The One Percent Ghost
One day there will be a superhero vigilante who will target the wealthy elite.
There will be a story on the news.
A billionaire found dead in his home with a note attached saying "...with liberty and justice for all..."
A few weeks later a second body found.
Another billionaire.
This one says "We hold these truths to be self-evident."
When a week later "Life", "Liberty" and "The pursuit of happiness" are found, three different bodies, two senators and a lobbyist for the NRA, it is clear that there is a pattern emerging.
Soon the powerful are riding in armored cars, escorted by small armies of mercenaries.
Some take a proactive approach and start foundations and hold press conferences where they say things like
"The time is long overdue that the people who are blessed with wealth give back to the community."
And somewhere in a dark room, the murderer takes their names off his list.
The media dubs him The Robin Hood Killer (a moniker he hates) and soon he is a celebrity.
People sell T-shirts on street corners of a hooded figure chasing down a man in a business suit who is holding bags with dollar signs on them in each hand.
The killer strikes again and again with military like precision.
People speculate that he must have special ops training.
The irony that our very own military industrial complex created the machine that would kill it's own creator does not escape the media and they start asking the questions they should have been asking all along about America's foreign policy.
After victims 14 and 15 are brought down by consecutive sniper bullets, most of the remaining 1% move overseas to their island homes and after victim 19, a tea party congressman, is strangled in his own home, both the house and senate are moved to a secret location.
Man on the street interviews show people saying things like "This is ridiculous. That man had a wife and family." but more people are in support, saying things like "These people have been keeping us down, stealing our money and lying to us long enough. It's time they experience fear the way we live with everyday."
But the killer slips up.
The police have a man in custody.
And the FBI was right.
He is a former navy seal, who has stage 4 cancer and less than two years to live.
Further research shows that he lost his daughter to a rare blood disease that he believes could have been treated if only they could have afforded better medical care.
Across the country a catch phrase begins circulating.
A show of solidarity that is plastered on t-shirts and bumper stickers everywhere.
Three simple words.
"I'm Robin Hood."
In prison, the killer is a hero to people who have no understanding of what it is he was trying to accomplish.
"You shouldda killed my landlord." one man says.
"You did what I WISH I had done." another inmate says "I used to fantasize about killin my boss, daily."
He doesn't bother to explain his mission.
He wonders if it was all a mistake.
And then...
The murders start up again.
All over the country bodies are turning up with notes tagged to them.
Horrible parodies that show that the copy-cats have no clue of what this was supposed to be about.
Good people are killed, simply for being perceived as being wealthy or having a little bit of power.
Notes are tagged to the bodies that say simply "I'm Robin Hood."
In Vegas a man is killed walking out of a casino simply because he had good fortune on the slot machines.
In Nebraska, a man who was previously dirt poor is assassinated because he won the powerball.
He never even received the first check.
He was found dead in his trailer with a note that said "For the people, by the people."
This vigilantism goes on for months, while the real killer's health deteriorates to nothing.
Once the media referred to him as a ghost, but now he looks more like a skeleton.
He is put into a prison hospital for his final days when the unthinkable happens.
A senator from Minnesota, by all accounts a good woman, is shot and killed while walking out of her home.
The assailant throws up his hands immediately after pulling the trigger and can be seen over several cell phone recordings rebroadcast on the nightly news smiling and saying "I'm Robin Hood"
The television plays in the hospital room where the original killer is waiting to die.
As he drifts in and out of consciousness he wonders if any of what he is seeing on the news is real.
A few days later FBI agents visit the man and ask him to hold a press conference.
He agrees.
The press conference is the most widely viewed event in the history of American television.
It is held in a high-school auditorium and more than 500 members of the press attend.
He refuses help to get to the table and it takes him a long time.
The room is silent as he sits down and begins to read from a prepared statement.
Every eye in every home in America and millions overseas is trained on the skeletal man as he struggles to breathe and reads the message he was told to read.
Most of the message is true.
It is true that he wants the blood of the innocent to stop being spilled.
It is true that what was happening was not his original vision and that he is sorry that things have spun out of control.
But what is clear to him, what sickens him, what makes him feel like he is disrespecting the memory of his daughter, is that these words are designed to protect the people who wrote them.
He pauses for a long time and stares down at his hands.
Then he pushes the papers away and begins to speak slowly.
"Your captors and my captors are the same...and they tell us the same lies...they say work will make us free...they say if we are willing to work hard enough we can achieve our dreams...they tell us that we are each other's enemy...they use fear to control and manipulate us and to sell us things we don't need...they tell us we are inadequate...they tell us we are ugly..."
Government officials start telling the broadcasters to kill the feed, to cut to commercial.
Some do.
Most do not.
Some refuse because of the ratings and some refuse out of personal politics.
At home, viewers turn the channel until they find a feed of the speech that will begin a movement that will later be dubbed Compassionate Capitalism.
When the man is done speaking one of the reporters asks "So your message is to stop the killing?"
The man answers "What I said was to stop killing the innocent, but to have a true revolution then perhaps those who seek to manipulate us and control us must be sacrificed."
After another long pause the same reporter asks "So who do you think should be killed?"
Turning the papers over in front of him and holding them up for the cameras to see, he says slowly
"Well I have this list."
And with that 30,000 television stations cut to commercial.
There will be a story on the news.
A billionaire found dead in his home with a note attached saying "...with liberty and justice for all..."
A few weeks later a second body found.
Another billionaire.
This one says "We hold these truths to be self-evident."
When a week later "Life", "Liberty" and "The pursuit of happiness" are found, three different bodies, two senators and a lobbyist for the NRA, it is clear that there is a pattern emerging.
Soon the powerful are riding in armored cars, escorted by small armies of mercenaries.
Some take a proactive approach and start foundations and hold press conferences where they say things like
"The time is long overdue that the people who are blessed with wealth give back to the community."
And somewhere in a dark room, the murderer takes their names off his list.
The media dubs him The Robin Hood Killer (a moniker he hates) and soon he is a celebrity.
People sell T-shirts on street corners of a hooded figure chasing down a man in a business suit who is holding bags with dollar signs on them in each hand.
The killer strikes again and again with military like precision.
People speculate that he must have special ops training.
The irony that our very own military industrial complex created the machine that would kill it's own creator does not escape the media and they start asking the questions they should have been asking all along about America's foreign policy.
After victims 14 and 15 are brought down by consecutive sniper bullets, most of the remaining 1% move overseas to their island homes and after victim 19, a tea party congressman, is strangled in his own home, both the house and senate are moved to a secret location.
Man on the street interviews show people saying things like "This is ridiculous. That man had a wife and family." but more people are in support, saying things like "These people have been keeping us down, stealing our money and lying to us long enough. It's time they experience fear the way we live with everyday."
But the killer slips up.
The police have a man in custody.
And the FBI was right.
He is a former navy seal, who has stage 4 cancer and less than two years to live.
Further research shows that he lost his daughter to a rare blood disease that he believes could have been treated if only they could have afforded better medical care.
Across the country a catch phrase begins circulating.
A show of solidarity that is plastered on t-shirts and bumper stickers everywhere.
Three simple words.
"I'm Robin Hood."
In prison, the killer is a hero to people who have no understanding of what it is he was trying to accomplish.
"You shouldda killed my landlord." one man says.
"You did what I WISH I had done." another inmate says "I used to fantasize about killin my boss, daily."
He doesn't bother to explain his mission.
He wonders if it was all a mistake.
And then...
The murders start up again.
All over the country bodies are turning up with notes tagged to them.
Horrible parodies that show that the copy-cats have no clue of what this was supposed to be about.
Good people are killed, simply for being perceived as being wealthy or having a little bit of power.
Notes are tagged to the bodies that say simply "I'm Robin Hood."
In Vegas a man is killed walking out of a casino simply because he had good fortune on the slot machines.
In Nebraska, a man who was previously dirt poor is assassinated because he won the powerball.
He never even received the first check.
He was found dead in his trailer with a note that said "For the people, by the people."
This vigilantism goes on for months, while the real killer's health deteriorates to nothing.
Once the media referred to him as a ghost, but now he looks more like a skeleton.
He is put into a prison hospital for his final days when the unthinkable happens.
A senator from Minnesota, by all accounts a good woman, is shot and killed while walking out of her home.
The assailant throws up his hands immediately after pulling the trigger and can be seen over several cell phone recordings rebroadcast on the nightly news smiling and saying "I'm Robin Hood"
The television plays in the hospital room where the original killer is waiting to die.
As he drifts in and out of consciousness he wonders if any of what he is seeing on the news is real.
A few days later FBI agents visit the man and ask him to hold a press conference.
He agrees.
The press conference is the most widely viewed event in the history of American television.
It is held in a high-school auditorium and more than 500 members of the press attend.
He refuses help to get to the table and it takes him a long time.
The room is silent as he sits down and begins to read from a prepared statement.
Every eye in every home in America and millions overseas is trained on the skeletal man as he struggles to breathe and reads the message he was told to read.
Most of the message is true.
It is true that he wants the blood of the innocent to stop being spilled.
It is true that what was happening was not his original vision and that he is sorry that things have spun out of control.
But what is clear to him, what sickens him, what makes him feel like he is disrespecting the memory of his daughter, is that these words are designed to protect the people who wrote them.
He pauses for a long time and stares down at his hands.
Then he pushes the papers away and begins to speak slowly.
"Your captors and my captors are the same...and they tell us the same lies...they say work will make us free...they say if we are willing to work hard enough we can achieve our dreams...they tell us that we are each other's enemy...they use fear to control and manipulate us and to sell us things we don't need...they tell us we are inadequate...they tell us we are ugly..."
Government officials start telling the broadcasters to kill the feed, to cut to commercial.
Some do.
Most do not.
Some refuse because of the ratings and some refuse out of personal politics.
At home, viewers turn the channel until they find a feed of the speech that will begin a movement that will later be dubbed Compassionate Capitalism.
When the man is done speaking one of the reporters asks "So your message is to stop the killing?"
The man answers "What I said was to stop killing the innocent, but to have a true revolution then perhaps those who seek to manipulate us and control us must be sacrificed."
After another long pause the same reporter asks "So who do you think should be killed?"
Turning the papers over in front of him and holding them up for the cameras to see, he says slowly
"Well I have this list."
And with that 30,000 television stations cut to commercial.
Tuesday, March 11, 2014
FML But Text Me In The Morning
I've often thought depression was just the result of paying attention.
What do you do when you know you need help, but you know there is no help for what you have?
There is no time for this.
Things must be done.
All day..everyday.
Things must be done.
Money must be made and bills must be paid.
Or else we learn the meaning of REAL suffering.
Who has the time?
I do not even have the time to feel my own pain.
No one else has the time to truly understand the anguish of another.
The world spins so fast.
I can never keep up.
I hate alarm clocks and deadlines and taxes and political agendas.
I hate the news and sports and reality tv and I love/hate the fact that everyone loves this fucked up shit circus.
I have never belonged.
I am too weak...or am overly hostile.
I am happiness wrapped in sadness.
Anger solves nothing.
Tears solve nothing.
Apathy wears thin once again.
They call it mental illness, but it is not so simple.
They offer me their gods, but I cannot buy in.
It is that which torments me which lets me know I am alive.
It is that which keeps me up at night that exhausts me completely.
I envy simplicity.
Those readily entertained and easily amused.
I am a genetic mutation that will be phased out.
Whatever is keeping me alive is also killing me.
I am lost and I am scared.
And yet I am alright.
I've finally given up thinking that I was going to mature past this or figure it out.
This must be who I am.
For better or for worse.
What do you do when you know you need help, but you know there is no help for what you have?
There is no time for this.
Things must be done.
All day..everyday.
Things must be done.
Money must be made and bills must be paid.
Or else we learn the meaning of REAL suffering.
Who has the time?
I do not even have the time to feel my own pain.
No one else has the time to truly understand the anguish of another.
The world spins so fast.
I can never keep up.
I hate alarm clocks and deadlines and taxes and political agendas.
I hate the news and sports and reality tv and I love/hate the fact that everyone loves this fucked up shit circus.
I have never belonged.
I am too weak...or am overly hostile.
I am happiness wrapped in sadness.
Anger solves nothing.
Tears solve nothing.
Apathy wears thin once again.
They call it mental illness, but it is not so simple.
They offer me their gods, but I cannot buy in.
It is that which torments me which lets me know I am alive.
It is that which keeps me up at night that exhausts me completely.
I envy simplicity.
Those readily entertained and easily amused.
I am a genetic mutation that will be phased out.
Whatever is keeping me alive is also killing me.
I am lost and I am scared.
And yet I am alright.
I've finally given up thinking that I was going to mature past this or figure it out.
This must be who I am.
For better or for worse.
Karl Marx Was Wrong
Karl Marx said that the poor oppressed workers would rise up and overthrow the wealthy elite and redistribute the wealth.
Karl Marx was wrong.
Right now 400 individuals in America have more wealth than the 150,000,000 poorest Americans.
Those 400 people put their money in offshore accounts so they cannot be taxed.
The blood of dying children is on the hands of the 1% who OWN our government and OUR media and spin lies and propaganda so that YOU will happily play along and give your hard earned money to them.
Karl Marx was wrong.
Karl Marx did not account for Wal Mart's LOW LOW PRICES, nor did he realize that people who call themselves activists would secretly shop there due to convenience.
Marx did not account for a government so powerful that it would spread over the entire world and murder any leader who opposed it and replace them with a figurehead who worked for the United States and that the shadow government would slaughter it's own citizens by the MILLIONS in order to get fat kickbacks from THE UNITED STATES.
Marx did not account for how everyone in America would be taking selfies on smart phones and watching reality TV and playing video games and driving SUVs and drinking beer and being so distracted that they wouldn't even have time to participate in their local government, let alone START A REVOLUTION!!
Marx did not realize that anyone's voice who became loud enough would be murdered by it's own government or have stories about them spun in the press to make other American's hate them as they were carted off to jail or Guantanamo Bay simply for SPEAKING THE TRUTH.
Marx had no way of understanding the power of the NRA to literally OWN OUR GOVERNMENT AND MEDIA and use lies and fear tactics to make sure there were more gun suppliers than there were fast food restaurants.
Karl Marx was wrong.
Because no one in the world would rather face the persecution of it's own government, when there are pictures of kittens and half-naked women to look at.
Karl Marx overestimated the power of the people and underestimated the power of greed and evil.
Karl Marx was wrong.
Right now 400 individuals in America have more wealth than the 150,000,000 poorest Americans.
Those 400 people put their money in offshore accounts so they cannot be taxed.
The blood of dying children is on the hands of the 1% who OWN our government and OUR media and spin lies and propaganda so that YOU will happily play along and give your hard earned money to them.
Karl Marx was wrong.
Karl Marx did not account for Wal Mart's LOW LOW PRICES, nor did he realize that people who call themselves activists would secretly shop there due to convenience.
Marx did not account for a government so powerful that it would spread over the entire world and murder any leader who opposed it and replace them with a figurehead who worked for the United States and that the shadow government would slaughter it's own citizens by the MILLIONS in order to get fat kickbacks from THE UNITED STATES.
Marx did not account for how everyone in America would be taking selfies on smart phones and watching reality TV and playing video games and driving SUVs and drinking beer and being so distracted that they wouldn't even have time to participate in their local government, let alone START A REVOLUTION!!
Marx did not realize that anyone's voice who became loud enough would be murdered by it's own government or have stories about them spun in the press to make other American's hate them as they were carted off to jail or Guantanamo Bay simply for SPEAKING THE TRUTH.
Marx had no way of understanding the power of the NRA to literally OWN OUR GOVERNMENT AND MEDIA and use lies and fear tactics to make sure there were more gun suppliers than there were fast food restaurants.
Karl Marx was wrong.
Because no one in the world would rather face the persecution of it's own government, when there are pictures of kittens and half-naked women to look at.
Karl Marx overestimated the power of the people and underestimated the power of greed and evil.
Wednesday, February 26, 2014
When God Closes a Door HE IS COMPLETELY FUCKING INSENSITIVE!!!
"When god closes a door he opens a window"?
There are soooooooooooooooo many things wrong with this sentence.
First off, who wants to climb out a window?
What if you are fat?
What if you are handicapped?
Then what?
I mean seriously, you are GOD!!
Can't you close a door and create ANOTHER FUCKING DOOR!!!
Here's the other thing.
Did you check the door?
Maybe it's just closed.
Not even locked.
What kind of jackass climbs out a window before even checking the door?
I'll tell you what kind.
The kind that says stupid shit like "When god closes a door HE opens a window."
And another thing, I'm sick of this HE shit.
If god existed it would be ALL powerful and would be above human form, but if it DID have a human form it would have ALL sex organs or possibly NONE.
The fact that people still say HE is just ridiculous subversive sexism and it permeates the entire culture and sends the message that women are inferior.
If HE closes a door and opens a window then HE is clearly a dick for doing such shit (if indeed the door is actually locked).
Perhaps god just wants a little privacy.
Perhaps god closed the door because YOU are fucking annoying and THEY are sick of listening to you grovel about all the shit in your life that YOU fucked up.
Perhaps god closed the door because you are a dick and THEY are sick of your shit.
Perhaps god opened the window so you would JUMP THE FUCK OUT OF IT.
Maybe god IS real and SHE wants you to examine your platitudes.
And don't even get me started on "If god gives you lemons..."
I fucking LIKE lemons and feel THIS statement is insulting on a completely different level.
Tuesday, February 11, 2014
Single On Valentine's Day (a rant for single people)
A friend of mine recently attempted to insult this misogynist asshole I know.
Forgetting I was single, she said "And that's why he isn't married."
As if...
As if being married...or in a relationship is somehow inherently superior to being single.
Single seems natural to me.
I was BORN single.
I am HAPPY single.
I would consider having a girlfriend, but she would have to be AMAZING!!
Because my life is in fact AMAZING already and everything that comes into it must be to this standard.
My band is amazing.
My friends are amazing.
My kids are A-FUCKING-MAZING!!
I have the car I want...the guitars I want...I even have the fucking TV I want.
I live in America where I have such mind-bending decisions as to WHICH pizza will I order tonight? Or should I watch The Office again? start Breaking Bad over? or watch a movie?
There are WAY MORE GOOD THINGS TO DO THAN THERE ARE HOURS IN THE DAY.
So why accept an average person for a mate?
I am NOT down on monogamy.
Some of the best times in my life were had with a "special someone", but the idea that just being in a relationship is a good thing is asinine.
Most couples are miserable.
They are two people caught in an endless loop of unresolved childhood issues, projected and played out on each other and it is just sad.
When I DO meet a girl it usually plays out like this:
"Oh she's pretty." then I talk to her.
And I find out...
She lacks intelligence...or lacks ambition...or says something stupid like "Who has time to read?" or "I don't like Sonic Youth." or "Who's Wes Anderson?"
Or I meet someone who is totally amazing, but the attraction isn't there for one or both of us.
Which is awesome, because then I have an amazing new friend.
I LIKE single people.
I like people who have inner-strength and who aren't looking for someone else to complete their lives.
People say to me often "You have such high standards."
And that's the key isn't it?
Lowering our standards.
That's what people do, right?
People are so lonely that they lower their standards and end up in a relationship with some asshole.
One day at a time they SETTLE for a person who isn't what they dreamed of and they make excuses for them.
And this allows them to make excuses for themselves.
And they make excuses for their shit job.
They call it acceptance... so it doesn't sound so bad.
And then they tell us single people that our "standards are to high"
Perhaps our standards for what we require in a mate SHOULD be high.
And our standards for what we will accept from ourselves should definitely be high.
Perhaps being single is to be admired.
Perhaps self-sufficiency should be saluted over codependency.
Perhaps Cupid needs glasses.
Or a decent therapist.
Or maybe he should just switch to tranquilizing darts.
Instead of those real ones that often seem so misguided.
Forgetting I was single, she said "And that's why he isn't married."
As if...
As if being married...or in a relationship is somehow inherently superior to being single.
Single seems natural to me.
I was BORN single.
I am HAPPY single.
I would consider having a girlfriend, but she would have to be AMAZING!!
Because my life is in fact AMAZING already and everything that comes into it must be to this standard.
My band is amazing.
My friends are amazing.
My kids are A-FUCKING-MAZING!!
I have the car I want...the guitars I want...I even have the fucking TV I want.
I live in America where I have such mind-bending decisions as to WHICH pizza will I order tonight? Or should I watch The Office again? start Breaking Bad over? or watch a movie?
There are WAY MORE GOOD THINGS TO DO THAN THERE ARE HOURS IN THE DAY.
So why accept an average person for a mate?
I am NOT down on monogamy.
Some of the best times in my life were had with a "special someone", but the idea that just being in a relationship is a good thing is asinine.
Most couples are miserable.
They are two people caught in an endless loop of unresolved childhood issues, projected and played out on each other and it is just sad.
When I DO meet a girl it usually plays out like this:
"Oh she's pretty." then I talk to her.
And I find out...
She lacks intelligence...or lacks ambition...or says something stupid like "Who has time to read?" or "I don't like Sonic Youth." or "Who's Wes Anderson?"
Or I meet someone who is totally amazing, but the attraction isn't there for one or both of us.
Which is awesome, because then I have an amazing new friend.
I LIKE single people.
I like people who have inner-strength and who aren't looking for someone else to complete their lives.
People say to me often "You have such high standards."
And that's the key isn't it?
Lowering our standards.
That's what people do, right?
People are so lonely that they lower their standards and end up in a relationship with some asshole.
One day at a time they SETTLE for a person who isn't what they dreamed of and they make excuses for them.
And this allows them to make excuses for themselves.
And they make excuses for their shit job.
They call it acceptance... so it doesn't sound so bad.
And then they tell us single people that our "standards are to high"
Perhaps our standards for what we require in a mate SHOULD be high.
And our standards for what we will accept from ourselves should definitely be high.
Perhaps being single is to be admired.
Perhaps self-sufficiency should be saluted over codependency.
Perhaps Cupid needs glasses.
Or a decent therapist.
Or maybe he should just switch to tranquilizing darts.
Instead of those real ones that often seem so misguided.
Thursday, February 6, 2014
A MODERN PRACTICAL SOLUTION TO THE PROBLEM OF GUN VIOLENCE
Through the use of simple, already existing technology we can all but wipe out the problem of gun violence in our great country.
With just a few simple laws passed all guns can be equipped with this amazing new technology and older guns can be retro-fitted.
This is nano-technology and can fit easily into the handle of ANY gun.
These proposals simultaneously protect YOUR safety and YOUR Second Amendment Rights.
Here are the proposals.
1) Guns can only be fired by their owner.
How?
A wristband is worn which uses a microchip to "unlock" the gun so it can be fired ONLY by the person wearing the wristband.
If you want your entire family to be able to fire the same gun then simply have each member wear a wristband synced to your gun.
In the event of a mass-shooting the gun could be remotely locked to prevent further loss of life.
2) Guns contain a GPS.
Isn't it a good idea that we know where our guns are at all times?
Combining solutions 1 and 2 we know WHO fired the gun and WHERE.
Not a problem for a law abiding citizen at a firing range or out hunting.
Only a problem for murderous thugs.
American citizens win!!
3) Guns are equipped with a small camera under the barrel that begins recording when the safety is off.
Now police have access to EXACTLY what the shooter was seeing when the gun was fired.
This should clear up any debates over self-defense cases.
These are three simple solutions that would make life easier for responsible gun owners and make life extremely difficult for people wanting to use guns to harm innocent citizens.
As with all advances in technology there would be a black market for guns that have been disabled of this Thug-Proof Technology.
Anyone caught with guns that have been altered would face severe penalties.
Now please, shoot holes in my plan. <----see what I did there?
If you cannot find fault with it then SHARE this idea and let's raise awareness so we can all PROTECT The Second Amendment to the Constitution of The United States of America without the constant threat to American citizens by lawless thugs who give guns a bad name.
Thank you.
With just a few simple laws passed all guns can be equipped with this amazing new technology and older guns can be retro-fitted.
This is nano-technology and can fit easily into the handle of ANY gun.
These proposals simultaneously protect YOUR safety and YOUR Second Amendment Rights.
Here are the proposals.
1) Guns can only be fired by their owner.
How?
A wristband is worn which uses a microchip to "unlock" the gun so it can be fired ONLY by the person wearing the wristband.
If you want your entire family to be able to fire the same gun then simply have each member wear a wristband synced to your gun.
In the event of a mass-shooting the gun could be remotely locked to prevent further loss of life.
2) Guns contain a GPS.
Isn't it a good idea that we know where our guns are at all times?
Combining solutions 1 and 2 we know WHO fired the gun and WHERE.
Not a problem for a law abiding citizen at a firing range or out hunting.
Only a problem for murderous thugs.
American citizens win!!
3) Guns are equipped with a small camera under the barrel that begins recording when the safety is off.
Now police have access to EXACTLY what the shooter was seeing when the gun was fired.
This should clear up any debates over self-defense cases.
These are three simple solutions that would make life easier for responsible gun owners and make life extremely difficult for people wanting to use guns to harm innocent citizens.
As with all advances in technology there would be a black market for guns that have been disabled of this Thug-Proof Technology.
Anyone caught with guns that have been altered would face severe penalties.
Now please, shoot holes in my plan. <----see what I did there?
If you cannot find fault with it then SHARE this idea and let's raise awareness so we can all PROTECT The Second Amendment to the Constitution of The United States of America without the constant threat to American citizens by lawless thugs who give guns a bad name.
Thank you.
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
Parkour - The (no longer just) Human Art of Freerunning
Last night I dreamed that all animals (except humans) had suddenly evolved the concept of parkour.
As a result, governments, the world over decided that animals were evolving, thinking beings and therefore were no long allowed to be eaten or held in captivity.
The results were alarming and astounding.
The entire world changed.
The world was a lot less safe for humans.
Standing at the bus stop, a horse comes clip-clopping along at full-speed and runs sideways off a telephone pole, never breaking stride.
Everyone is stunned.
As I walk down my street, lions, one-up one another off parked cars, making them almost useless to their owners.
It's beautiful, but it kinda freaks me out.
Also, I really liked that car.
Nearby, a giraffe does a running flip over a fence and nearly crushes a group of construction workers.
They are speechless.
The people are scared and productivity slows.
Politicians scurry to pass laws protecting humans from these new ultra-aggressive athletes and as the animals had no care or concept of law, the legislation passes through unabated.
And soon I am seeing animals getting arrested and forced to go to the zoo, having no understanding of the machine that they are caught up in
I can't help but think that the humans are the problem.
And I am not alone..
Tens of thousands march..
We scream and cry and make up chants and make signs
We demand JUSTICE!!
You cannot lock up our citizens just for being THEMSELVES!!
You can not put them in a place called THE ZOO!!!
So politicians change the name to something that sounds more pleasant...
Animal Recreation Centers or ARCs...yeah that seems like a good place for animals.
And they hide the facilities so we don't have to feel bad or think about it.
"Did you hear about what happened to Bingo?"
"He's doing 2-5 out on the ARC for knocking some lady's Starbucks out of her hand."
"Some time on the ARC will do him good. Calm his ass down."
There are fat men on the radio and skinny men on TV...
Saying that animals are a nuisance and we should all start eating them again.
And the whole eating thing is embarrassing to some of us.
We wish THAT never happened and we have a lot of human-guilt about it.
We wear a lot of shirts bragging about our veganism...
And hope the animals evolve the ability to read at some point..
And some of us still drive to the industrial part of town to see the animal victims of justice.
But it is not like going to The Zoo.
Things have changed...
Things have evolved..
No longer do we go to watch them.
Because now we have realized that it's not polite to stare and point.
We go only to VISIT them...
To listen to them..
To tell them that our hearts are in there with them
We are much to humbled to stare, point or take pictures
We just look in their eyes and smile
And talk to them about human parkour athletes that we saw on the tele...
And ask them how they are feeling...
And wait for them to do some of those sweet parkour moves.
As a result, governments, the world over decided that animals were evolving, thinking beings and therefore were no long allowed to be eaten or held in captivity.
The results were alarming and astounding.
The entire world changed.
The world was a lot less safe for humans.
Standing at the bus stop, a horse comes clip-clopping along at full-speed and runs sideways off a telephone pole, never breaking stride.
Everyone is stunned.
As I walk down my street, lions, one-up one another off parked cars, making them almost useless to their owners.
It's beautiful, but it kinda freaks me out.
Also, I really liked that car.
Nearby, a giraffe does a running flip over a fence and nearly crushes a group of construction workers.
They are speechless.
The people are scared and productivity slows.
Politicians scurry to pass laws protecting humans from these new ultra-aggressive athletes and as the animals had no care or concept of law, the legislation passes through unabated.
And soon I am seeing animals getting arrested and forced to go to the zoo, having no understanding of the machine that they are caught up in
I can't help but think that the humans are the problem.
And I am not alone..
Tens of thousands march..
We scream and cry and make up chants and make signs
We demand JUSTICE!!
You cannot lock up our citizens just for being THEMSELVES!!
You can not put them in a place called THE ZOO!!!
So politicians change the name to something that sounds more pleasant...
Animal Recreation Centers or ARCs...yeah that seems like a good place for animals.
And they hide the facilities so we don't have to feel bad or think about it.
"Did you hear about what happened to Bingo?"
"He's doing 2-5 out on the ARC for knocking some lady's Starbucks out of her hand."
"Some time on the ARC will do him good. Calm his ass down."
There are fat men on the radio and skinny men on TV...
Saying that animals are a nuisance and we should all start eating them again.
And the whole eating thing is embarrassing to some of us.
We wish THAT never happened and we have a lot of human-guilt about it.
We wear a lot of shirts bragging about our veganism...
And hope the animals evolve the ability to read at some point..
And some of us still drive to the industrial part of town to see the animal victims of justice.
But it is not like going to The Zoo.
Things have changed...
Things have evolved..
No longer do we go to watch them.
Because now we have realized that it's not polite to stare and point.
We go only to VISIT them...
To listen to them..
To tell them that our hearts are in there with them
We are much to humbled to stare, point or take pictures
We just look in their eyes and smile
And talk to them about human parkour athletes that we saw on the tele...
And ask them how they are feeling...
And wait for them to do some of those sweet parkour moves.
Wednesday, January 29, 2014
Cool Spy-Like Maneuvers
When I see an armored car doing a drop off...
I always watch them very closely..
Looking for errors.
Errors that would allow me to rob them successfully.
And without confrontation.
My brain constructs elaborate plans.
Getaways involving multiple cars and well-timed maneuvers.
No Fast and Furious style drifting here.
No guns. No violence.
Just simple blending in...and cool spy-like moves.
My favorite part is where I rip off my mustache, wrap it up in my hoodie and toss the incriminating items into a dumpster in an alley behind a coffee shop (5 minutes before pickup)...
Where I walk in, smile, order my usual and sit down to update my Facebook status about something mundane and silly, while waiting for the local news to come on so I can hear about the armored car robbery...
Where they show security camera footage of a mustachioed man in a hat and sunglasses, calmly walking by and taking the loot...
And a few seconds later a befuddled armored car driver looking around cluelessly for the bag.
I smile wide at the police sketch artist as I think "That guy looks nothing like me." but then my eyes grow wide as I say "Am I really THAT fat?"
The lady on the TV says that the driver has been suspended.
To make this right I put a bunch of bills in a bag and mail it to him anonymously...
Along with a note that says "I won't tell if you won't."
I'd never actually do it.
But in my head I am really damn good at it.
I always watch them very closely..
Looking for errors.
Errors that would allow me to rob them successfully.
And without confrontation.
My brain constructs elaborate plans.
Getaways involving multiple cars and well-timed maneuvers.
No Fast and Furious style drifting here.
No guns. No violence.
Just simple blending in...and cool spy-like moves.
My favorite part is where I rip off my mustache, wrap it up in my hoodie and toss the incriminating items into a dumpster in an alley behind a coffee shop (5 minutes before pickup)...
Where I walk in, smile, order my usual and sit down to update my Facebook status about something mundane and silly, while waiting for the local news to come on so I can hear about the armored car robbery...
Where they show security camera footage of a mustachioed man in a hat and sunglasses, calmly walking by and taking the loot...
And a few seconds later a befuddled armored car driver looking around cluelessly for the bag.
I smile wide at the police sketch artist as I think "That guy looks nothing like me." but then my eyes grow wide as I say "Am I really THAT fat?"
The lady on the TV says that the driver has been suspended.
To make this right I put a bunch of bills in a bag and mail it to him anonymously...
Along with a note that says "I won't tell if you won't."
I'd never actually do it.
But in my head I am really damn good at it.
Tuesday, January 21, 2014
Mothers and Daughters
Do moms sit their little girls down and say...
"Now sweetie, when you grow up, I want you to date the most heinous, evil, piece of shit asshole men you can find...
I want you to repeat this pattern over and over and over again...
Until you are about 35.. and then once your self-esteem has been completely destroyed and you no longer feel like you are deserving of love...
And your tits start to go south...and wrinkles start to form...
And you, having bought into society's lie, that your physical beauty is your true value..
And you truly hate yourself and the choices you have made...
And the asshole men who you gave your youth to..
Are still fucking women half their age and your bitter heart wants to castrate them for it..
After all this happens, sweetie...
I want you to completely change up your approach and find a really, stable, nice, boring fucking guy who will take all your shit and never leave you...
And I want you to marry that man.
Even if you don't really like him that much.
Because at this point, you will believe that is all you are worth."
Is this a conversation that mom's have with their daughters
Or do women just do that shit on their own?
"Now sweetie, when you grow up, I want you to date the most heinous, evil, piece of shit asshole men you can find...
I want you to repeat this pattern over and over and over again...
Until you are about 35.. and then once your self-esteem has been completely destroyed and you no longer feel like you are deserving of love...
And your tits start to go south...and wrinkles start to form...
And you, having bought into society's lie, that your physical beauty is your true value..
And you truly hate yourself and the choices you have made...
And the asshole men who you gave your youth to..
Are still fucking women half their age and your bitter heart wants to castrate them for it..
After all this happens, sweetie...
I want you to completely change up your approach and find a really, stable, nice, boring fucking guy who will take all your shit and never leave you...
And I want you to marry that man.
Even if you don't really like him that much.
Because at this point, you will believe that is all you are worth."
Is this a conversation that mom's have with their daughters
Or do women just do that shit on their own?
Monday, January 6, 2014
2:00 AM or The Time I Got Stuck In the Snow In The Hood and a Bunch of Black Dudes Surrounded My Vehicle
Returning home after 1 am this morning...from visiting friends and exchanging late Christmas gifts...nearly home...feeling cocky...explaining to my kids, Clark Griswald style, that it's all about driving..."People don't know how to drive in this shit...if you keep cool and keep moving, momentum will carry you through."
God, sick of listening to me, stops my vehicle cold.
We are stuck.
Right in the middle of the road.
Just a few blocks from our home.
Spin...spin...forward...reverse...forward...reverse...the smell of burning rubber.
The gas gauge is on E...I cannot do this rocking back and forth thing for much longer or I will be stuck in the snow and out of gas as well.
A bunch of black guys start walking towards our van.
Now when people tell a story and they say "black guy" or "Asian lady" I always stop them and say "Is this person's skin tone essential to the telling of your story?"
In this case it is, because it may be self-implicating.
I wonder if I was more afraid due to the fact that these young men were black.
I analyze it against, imagining a group of white guys coming up on my van like that and I think I would have been just as scared considering the time and place.
But I wonder...
As I exited the vehicle I could hear my own words in my head, the words I have said in defense of my neighborhood a thousand times...
"This area isn't so bad. Don't be out on foot late at night and you will be alright. All those people you see on the news are always getting shot at like 2:00 AM. Nothing good is going on around here at 2:00 AM."
I look at my iPhone and think about how it is currency for thieves.
It says it is 1:47 AM an then it ominously powers down.
Taking the safety off my weapon I get out and say "Sup guys." realizing in my British Peacoat, Old Navy sweater and graying bead, that I am completely lacking in street cred.
"We thought we would try to push you out." one of them says.
Slightly relieved, adrenaline still coursing through my veins. I can no longer tell if I am just a father trying to protect his children or some kind of racist who has fooled himself into believing that he was evolved.
"It's been a long day. Just need to get this van unstuck and I'll figure it out tomorrow." I say to myself.
I start to say "Good lookin out", but remembering my Old Navy sweater, I say "Oh thanks guys. I appreciate the help." and we all start to push.
We push hard...we get it rocking back and forth...my sense of guilt increases with each failed attempt...finally one of them says "Man, I'm gonna run home and grab a shovel."
"Where do you live?" I ask.
"Just a few blocks thatta way." he points.
"Nah man. You guys get to where you are going. Thanks so much for your help, but it is freezing out here. I just live a few blocks away. I'm going to walk home...change outta these wet clothes...grab my shovel and come back and dig myself out."
With that, we shook hands, and the kids and I started walking home.
...
When we got home I told my teenage son to get into some dry clothes and to come help me.
As we got back to the van it was ridiculously cold. The wind was whipping and we were using the shovels to steady ourselves.
I reluctantly handed my son a piece and said "I doubt you will have to use this, but just in case."
I was grateful for all those trips to the shooting range and the firearms safety courses. It was a strange feeling knowing that my little boy was no longer a little boy, but someone who could save my life if worst came to worst.
The thought of my son having to shoot someone disturbed me, but not as much as the thought of someone shooting him.
I wondered if all that target practice and thousands of hours of Call of Duty would translate into him being able to put someone down if we were put in a life or death situation.
Then I told myself to stop thinking such horrible thoughts.
It's 2:00 AM in Emerson Heights...it is -20 with the windchill and we are all business.
...
We began digging.
The cold biting.
About every 10 minutes we would get in the van and try to rock our way out.
Nothing changed.
Digging and more digging.
I hadn't seen a car for an hour.
Tires spinning.
Frustration growing.
Digging..digging...
I knew if I left it here my mini-van would be gone in the morning.
Impounded...hundreds of dollars to get it out...missed work...we had to get this done.
Digging...digging...breaking through ice...silent discouragement...no talking...
Digging...
...
A set of headlights approach.
As it comes into view my I see it is a 4X4 truck with tinted windows.
It stops directly behind us.
I try to see through the windshield, but I cannot so I keep digging.
The tension in my body mounts as the truck sits there, idling.
I think of Henry Gates.
I think of American Psycho.
I think of No Country for Old Men.
I reach in my pocket to make sure my salvation is still there and for the second time I take the safety off.
The truck backs up and goes around us, driving over the curb, with great ease, in the process.
Frosty air comes from my son's mouth as he says "What a dick! It was harder for him to go around then it would have been for him to help us!"
Then the truck stops and slowly backs up toward us.
It comes to a stop and yet again nothing happens.
I continue to dig and finally...fucking finally...one of the doors open.
I reach in my pocket and wait.
I look at my son.
He has stopped shoveling and has his hand in the pocket of his coat.
"Well ...well...well...what have we here? Front wheel drive, huh?"
A man approaches with a chain, kneels down and hooks it to the trailer hitch on his truck.
"I told you if you need anything to just give me a call." and with that I recognize the voice and when he turnes around I see the smiling face of my friend Tony.
"Oh my god, dude. You saved my ass!!"
"Yeah these things got some power, but front wheel drive. That's the problem. They can't really pull you out once you get stuck." he says affixing the other end of the chain to my vehicle.
"Dude I thought you were gonna kill us. Why did you sit in your truck so long behind us like that?"
"Oh, I was just trying to see if I could push you out, but I was afraid I would bust your tail-lights, the way these line-up." he pauses "Thought I was gonna kill you, huh? No I've been drivin around in this gettin people unstuck all night. This thing will drive through anything."
"Let me know if you need anything else."
And with that, he was off.
Never have I appreciated the warmth of my home so much.
Never have I been so grateful for good friends...and good strangers...who become friends..when situations that require us to stick together arise.
I was grateful for the struggle and the relief when the struggle was over.
I was grateful for shovels and dry clothes.
I am grateful that I was wrong...and that my neighborhood is beautiful...even after dark and sometimes... and that good things do happen around here... at 2:00 am.
God, sick of listening to me, stops my vehicle cold.
We are stuck.
Right in the middle of the road.
Just a few blocks from our home.
Spin...spin...forward...reverse...forward...reverse...the smell of burning rubber.
The gas gauge is on E...I cannot do this rocking back and forth thing for much longer or I will be stuck in the snow and out of gas as well.
A bunch of black guys start walking towards our van.
Now when people tell a story and they say "black guy" or "Asian lady" I always stop them and say "Is this person's skin tone essential to the telling of your story?"
In this case it is, because it may be self-implicating.
I wonder if I was more afraid due to the fact that these young men were black.
I analyze it against, imagining a group of white guys coming up on my van like that and I think I would have been just as scared considering the time and place.
But I wonder...
As I exited the vehicle I could hear my own words in my head, the words I have said in defense of my neighborhood a thousand times...
"This area isn't so bad. Don't be out on foot late at night and you will be alright. All those people you see on the news are always getting shot at like 2:00 AM. Nothing good is going on around here at 2:00 AM."
I look at my iPhone and think about how it is currency for thieves.
It says it is 1:47 AM an then it ominously powers down.
Taking the safety off my weapon I get out and say "Sup guys." realizing in my British Peacoat, Old Navy sweater and graying bead, that I am completely lacking in street cred.
"We thought we would try to push you out." one of them says.
Slightly relieved, adrenaline still coursing through my veins. I can no longer tell if I am just a father trying to protect his children or some kind of racist who has fooled himself into believing that he was evolved.
"It's been a long day. Just need to get this van unstuck and I'll figure it out tomorrow." I say to myself.
I start to say "Good lookin out", but remembering my Old Navy sweater, I say "Oh thanks guys. I appreciate the help." and we all start to push.
We push hard...we get it rocking back and forth...my sense of guilt increases with each failed attempt...finally one of them says "Man, I'm gonna run home and grab a shovel."
"Where do you live?" I ask.
"Just a few blocks thatta way." he points.
"Nah man. You guys get to where you are going. Thanks so much for your help, but it is freezing out here. I just live a few blocks away. I'm going to walk home...change outta these wet clothes...grab my shovel and come back and dig myself out."
With that, we shook hands, and the kids and I started walking home.
...
When we got home I told my teenage son to get into some dry clothes and to come help me.
As we got back to the van it was ridiculously cold. The wind was whipping and we were using the shovels to steady ourselves.
I reluctantly handed my son a piece and said "I doubt you will have to use this, but just in case."
I was grateful for all those trips to the shooting range and the firearms safety courses. It was a strange feeling knowing that my little boy was no longer a little boy, but someone who could save my life if worst came to worst.
The thought of my son having to shoot someone disturbed me, but not as much as the thought of someone shooting him.
I wondered if all that target practice and thousands of hours of Call of Duty would translate into him being able to put someone down if we were put in a life or death situation.
Then I told myself to stop thinking such horrible thoughts.
It's 2:00 AM in Emerson Heights...it is -20 with the windchill and we are all business.
...
We began digging.
The cold biting.
About every 10 minutes we would get in the van and try to rock our way out.
Nothing changed.
Digging and more digging.
I hadn't seen a car for an hour.
Tires spinning.
Frustration growing.
Digging..digging...
I knew if I left it here my mini-van would be gone in the morning.
Impounded...hundreds of dollars to get it out...missed work...we had to get this done.
Digging...digging...breaking through ice...silent discouragement...no talking...
Digging...
...
A set of headlights approach.
As it comes into view my I see it is a 4X4 truck with tinted windows.
It stops directly behind us.
I try to see through the windshield, but I cannot so I keep digging.
The tension in my body mounts as the truck sits there, idling.
I think of Henry Gates.
I think of American Psycho.
I think of No Country for Old Men.
I reach in my pocket to make sure my salvation is still there and for the second time I take the safety off.
The truck backs up and goes around us, driving over the curb, with great ease, in the process.
Frosty air comes from my son's mouth as he says "What a dick! It was harder for him to go around then it would have been for him to help us!"
Then the truck stops and slowly backs up toward us.
It comes to a stop and yet again nothing happens.
I continue to dig and finally...fucking finally...one of the doors open.
I reach in my pocket and wait.
I look at my son.
He has stopped shoveling and has his hand in the pocket of his coat.
"Well ...well...well...what have we here? Front wheel drive, huh?"
A man approaches with a chain, kneels down and hooks it to the trailer hitch on his truck.
"I told you if you need anything to just give me a call." and with that I recognize the voice and when he turnes around I see the smiling face of my friend Tony.
"Oh my god, dude. You saved my ass!!"
"Yeah these things got some power, but front wheel drive. That's the problem. They can't really pull you out once you get stuck." he says affixing the other end of the chain to my vehicle.
"Dude I thought you were gonna kill us. Why did you sit in your truck so long behind us like that?"
"Oh, I was just trying to see if I could push you out, but I was afraid I would bust your tail-lights, the way these line-up." he pauses "Thought I was gonna kill you, huh? No I've been drivin around in this gettin people unstuck all night. This thing will drive through anything."
"Let me know if you need anything else."
And with that, he was off.
Never have I appreciated the warmth of my home so much.
Never have I been so grateful for good friends...and good strangers...who become friends..when situations that require us to stick together arise.
I was grateful for the struggle and the relief when the struggle was over.
I was grateful for shovels and dry clothes.
I am grateful that I was wrong...and that my neighborhood is beautiful...even after dark and sometimes... and that good things do happen around here... at 2:00 am.
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