Tuesday, October 30, 2007

I Wonder If I'm Really Japanese...


Okay, forewarned is four-armed or something. This is completely not suitable for work. Don't play the following link, or you will get fired/divorced/assaulted/persecuted/prosecuted/whatever. Those who know me in the meaty world know that I LOVE a show called MXC, which is a bit like Mystery Science Theatre 3000 meets Japanese Game Shows. It's just awesome, but it's not everyone's cuppa joe. A few others know my fondness for unclothed ladies tied up and restrained with things.

This video is... just... AWESOME! It's better than the girls with meat on their helmets being threatened by an angry Komodo dragon or similar. For whatever "Fear Factor" kinds of reasons, they take a naked young girly and paint her with honey, and tie her down in a little pen of some kind. Then the little pigs arrive to lick the honey off of her. It's brilliant.

I didn't see a way to embed the video, so click here for the video.

I need some alone time. And a wetnap. *Ahem*.

Labels:

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

Colorado Rockies, Please Send My Refund To My New Address


MLB = Mephistopholes Lucifer Beelzebub

Who knew?


How the hell I missed this story last June is beyond me. Well, no it isn't. I don't give two shits about baseball (the sport died in '95, as far as I'm concerned). But apparently, the Colorado Rockies are a mighty religious organization, to the extent that they only look to have "born again" Christians on the payroll.

That's all well and good, but as a taxpayer I paid for their stadium, and this tithing to fund their Crusade shall not stand. When the Denver/Colorado politicians realize how unlawful that was, they can send my part of the $161 Million back to me at my current address.


Rest assured, God would not allow this to hapen to a Rockies player. Amen


This is especially ironic given that the team is owned by a brewer of beer. Isn't that a vice? Yes to beer, but no to titties? What the fuck is wrong with these people? Seriously? Do they have qualms about getting to "second base"? Are they discouraged from "stealing bases"? Maybe they should move the team to Utah...

I'm pro-hedonism, pro-sin, pro-fun, pro-inclusiveness, and therefore, pro-Red Sox.

Labels:

Monday, October 22, 2007

Is Blood Thicker Than Brains?

I don't have much of a connection with my father. It's not a bad scene really- I don't have a tale of woe. No one was abandoned or beaten in a drunken stupor. We've gone for years at a go without speaking, and it's not rooted in hostility or contempt (of any significance), but more a matter of serious lack of common ground. Recently, I had a typically short email exchange that was I think a classic example of the problem, and I don't know to what extent this is a generational thing. He is one of these "born again" types of "Christian" people, which I find distasteful from the start, what with all the smugness that goes with that territory. I put "Christain" in quotes, because he is (like almost all self-confessed "Christians" I enounter) a Christian in name only. By that, I mean that he likes the holier-than-thou condesention, and the judgment of others- all the preachy parts that seem to be the purvue of folks with low self esteem. Not too much in the way of forgiveness, and loving the sinner while hating the sin, etc. But that's a seperate tirade, and it's bigger than just him. I only bring it up as it helps frame the two basic kinds of email I get from him. One flavor is the "Jesus" variety, wherein, I'm the heathen, and he's worried about my soul. The other primary sort is the "Rah Rah! We Kick Ass! Hoo-Ray America! We Can Do No Wrong! " kind of fevered patriotic claptrap that also is favored by people with a weak self-identity, who more often than not use these things to compensate for thier overwhelming feelings of powerlessness.



Yeah, I'll take off the Freud glasses and try to explain what I meant there. In the realm of patriotism, there is a fine line, and it's not easily addressed with sound bytes, but that's all we really have anymore. My country right or wrong, right or wrong my country. Blah blah blah. Bullshit. Nothing is ever that easy. Well, almost. Here's the big picture model: The Owners of this society like owning and controlling things, and worked hard to make it happen, and don't want to give up thier control. They got where they are by centralizing schools, and then undermining the teachers so that at no point do students learn how to think. Then they got us to part with our liberties by scaring us, and since the days of William Randolph Hearst, they have used their friends in the media to help confuse, misinform, and scare us until we did what served them best. Next, they took what little we had of our own, by appealing to our greed, by turning us against one another, and by leveraging what they already had to force our surrender. All of this would ordinarily and expectedly have us feeling pretty helpless and down in the dumps. To mitigate these feelings if impotence, they crafted a false faith for us- the idea that we are somehow a force to be reckoned with- to be feared for our brute strength, and praised for our superior humanity and integrity.


(Exhibit A.)


This false faith really resonates with the folks who are feeling the most incapable and disenfranchised. They can feel a part of something- anything, that is powerful. Patriotism then is the penis entension, boob job, red sportscar, hair weave, viagra, and girls gone wild ego compensation all combined. Rest assured, as a confessed egomaniac, I've spent some time considering the subject. This is the way in which anyone with jack shit going on in their lives can feel triumphant. Real patriotism is about giving of oneself without fanfare, and this modern namesake is about loudly taking for oneself, in order to feel less insignificant. In 200 plus years, we've gone from Nathan Hale's "I only regret that I have but one life to lose for my country" to "kick his ass, take his gas". This did not happen by accident. This is the second kind of email I get from my father.

A while back I got an email from him about a Navy ship that was made from some of the scrap metal from the World Trade Center. The ship, the USS New York (LPD 21), was constructed in 2004, and was to be some kind of floating memorial to the victims of the September 11th attacks. He sent an email that was full of needlessly maudlin fluff and neo-patriotic garbage about "never forgetting" (as an aside- what the fuck CAN'T this country forget?) and showed this picture (or one similar):



To which I responded by saying:

#1) That's one ugly boat. And for a surface combat ship, where are the guns?

#2) How many victims remains do you suppose were burned off in the smelting of the scrap metal?

I'm not being deliberately shocking, or even saying that they shouldn't recycle the metal, but I also know that there was a huge indignity delivered to the families of the victims when it was revealed that in the haste to scoop up detrious, bodies were sometimes mistakenly taken and dumped in the Fishkill, NY landfill that received the WTC scrap. It's a very likely scenario, and there's shit-all to be done about it at this point, other than to say we're very sorry.

His reply was essentially oriented about point #1 and allowed as how in this day an age it's all electronic combat, and that guns are archaic or such. He said that it didn't matter much what the boat looked like, as the enemy would never get close enough to see it. No fooling- that was his view. He's ex-Navy.

As for the second point, he dismissed it as me being conspiracy minded. No need to check into the allegation.

I replied in my usual flip manner that all the high tech electronics and modern combat jazz didn't help the USS Cole. That was pretty much the last of that conversation.

Fast forward to last week where I saw this article which talks about how the Navy has admitted that their new Destroyers can't withstand heavy seas. D'oh! Well, okay, better to catch that now, than to wait until one sinks and some young men die. Credit where credit is due. We'll address the $'s some other time I guess (how is it you can get a warranty on a $20K car, but not on a multi-million dollar warship?). If you look at the little ship in this article, it sure looks like the previously discussed USS New York, no? Well, they are not the same- apparently the Navy has a variety of similar looking ugly ships. The USS New York is a transport/assault kind of thing, and these other ones are San Antionio Class Destroyers. This doesn't matter for the purposes of this story, but I like to be accurate.

I saw the article and (while still under the impression these were the same boats) emailed it to him and said that it looked like calling the ship ugly was not the worst thing that could be said about it. His reply? I'll quote: "iT MAY BE UGLY, BUT DOES IT GET THE JOB DONE?"

Umm. No. It doesn't. It breaks in strong waves. Bad. Ugly and does not "get the job done". I really ought to reply in some way that uses the mouth-breathing-idiot mantra "[It don't] Git-R-Done". Maybe then it would sink in.

This is the best way I can illustrate what frustrates me so much in dealing with people these days- not just my father. It's not that I expect people to think like I do, or agree with me at all. I would appreciate it though if any disagreement could be somewhat enlightened by THOUGHT. I can and sometimes do go back and forth a few vollies with my father about these kinds of things, and in the end the outcome is the same. It ALWAYS results in his clear refusal to CONSIDER a different view, even when faced with significant evidence that cotradicts his entrenched opinion. It's always polite, which I suppose is something positive, but what the hell can you do with people who refuse to think when you present them with materials and ideas on a silver platter? And he fucking votes.

There is a guy I know who once said of the idiot masses- "If I don't tell them they are stupid, how will they know?" I always took this to be a joke statement, but maybe I've just been giving the benefit of doubt too often. Honestly, what can you do with people who can't or won't think?

So my question is this: Is this unwillingness to apply critical thought a characteristic of my father only, or people in general? Is it rooted in laziness or fear? Maybe just Baby Boomers? That would be kinda funny:

Baby Boomer #1 (Let's say, John Lennon): Imagine there's no heaven...
Baby Boomer #2 (my father): No.

Labels:

Thursday, October 18, 2007

More Airport Failures- This Time I'm Radioactive


People more visionary than me have written extensively about how any why airport security is an ineffective sham that is designed only to control and subjugate us, and instill a false sense of security. I certainly don't take issue with that view, but I'm obliged to deal with the TSA people periodically, and not once have I seen evidence of competence.

Last week, on Friday, I was injected with a radioactive material (on purpose). I have a defective heart and it warrants periodic scrutiny, which is aided by a radioactive isotope called Thallium-201, which has a half-life of 73 hours. I was due at the airport about 14 hours later, where ALLEGEDLY there are geigercounters surruptitiously installed. The medical type people told me to expect to be pulled aside and searched, and they thoughtfully gave me a note that explained the process and reason for me to "glow" in this way. Whatever. I dutifully took the note to the airport, and was wondering if the mouth-breathing TSA retread that would ransack my nicely packed bag would know that Thallium is an element ("Tl" #81, if you don't have a Periodic Table handy), and it never happened.

Nope. I was never stopped, and never had to use my "Get Out Of Jail Free" card. Well, hooray, right? No, sorry. I was FOR SURE someone that should have been given a secondary screening. While it is possible that I could have dimished the radiation signature by drinking lots of water and flushing out my kidneys, liver and for that matter, bladder- but I didn't. I wanted to see how effective these numb nuts are, and made an effort not to drink much water. I also was not stopped on the return flight, Sunday PM (still well within the 73 hour half-life span).

So, do you think the geigercounter business is a lie? Has anyone EVER been stopped because of their radioactivity? I bet not.

Labels:

Tuesday, October 09, 2007

Reverend RumpleSealSkin's Rectory

From the fun loving folks at The Smoking Gun comes yet another tale of some seriously pent up activities. I'll go out on a limb and guess that this fellow was not preaching what he was practicing, and that's a damned shame. I also feel a little empty that I hadn't at least thought of this sort of kink-o-thon. I must be in a rut...



OCTOBER 8--An Alabama minister who died in June of "accidental mechanical asphyxia" was found hogtied and wearing two complete wet suits, including a face mask, diving gloves and slippers, rubberized underwear, and a head mask, according to an autopsy report. Investigators determined that Rev. Gary Aldridge's death was not caused by foul play and that the 51-year-old pastor of Montgomery's Thorington Road Baptist Church was alone in his home at the time he died (while apparently in the midst of some autoerotic undertaking). While the Montgomery Advertiser, which first obtained the autopsy records, reported on Aldridge's two wet suits, the family newspaper chose not to mention what police discovered inside the minister's rubber briefs.."

Here is the link.

Labels:

Monday, October 08, 2007

Really, Really Dumb- Or, What I Learned At The Airport This Weekend



So I was supposed to go to San Francisco this weekend, but missed my flight. That in and of itself itsn't a big deal. I was sick and didn't really want to go, and Schmoopie was wretching her guts out, so it was for the best, but I learned an interesting and stupid thing about the system of air travel. I've previously ranted in one way or another about the mouth breathers working in airport "security", but this little nugget has to do with the idiocy that is commonly known as United Airlines.



Due to a variety of little factors, like me dragging ass, and not being driven to the airport by Schmoopie, I ended up at the terminal at 6:40AM for a 7:15 flight. Sure, that was close, but I had no luggage to check and the gate wasn't far so I didn't anticipate any problems. I went to the self check in deal and it said that I could not check in because there were less than 45 minutes until departure. Yeah, and? No and- that's all. It is the opinion of UAL that I cannot get through the screening and make it to the gate in under 45 minutes. Really.

I stopped and asked a guy with one of those bulky old Motorola radio/phones in a red UAL shirt if there was no way to override this so I could boogie down to the security line. "No. You're never going to make that flight". What? Seriously? Yup.



So I ended up going back to the car, and paying the $4 fee for visiting the terminal to the parking fascists and went home. But this is what occurred to me along the way- suppose I had checked in online the night before? I'd have already had my boarding pass and could have shown up even later. What's more, I seem to recall being seated on a plane waiting to depart, and having the departure time pass as we (the entire plane full of people) waited for some passenger to be found. As in- they held the flight! I used to think that these people were inconsiderate dicks, muckety mucks, or both. Turns out, they knew what I now know- make the airline your bitch. Check in early and then get some rest and take your time.

Why on earth should I have to show up to the airport several hours early with my 2.5 ounce MAXIMUM bottle of shampoo, toothpaste, or whatever, all in a clear ziplock back, so that some illegal alien, slack jawed, room temperature IQ, dipshit with bloated pig eyes that don't blink at the same time can x-ray my fucking clothing to see if I left a 3 ounce container in my carry on bag? Seriously? I don't believe for a moment that Charlene and/or Earl in the spiffy TSA uniforms are going to do jack shit to stop terrorism or keep me safe. A terrorist of even moderate imagination can mentally outflank the "security" at the goddamned airport, and so what? I'm still flying. All the TSA does is reinforce to all of us regular folk that we are not in charge of anything, and test our collective obediance and willingness to be fucked by passive aggressive authority figures in shirts with epaulets. And in this case, UAL does not believe that I can navigate the securi-tards and have a 5 minute walk in under 45 minutes. Wow- when a shitty and bankrupt misery of an airline like UAL calls you out as slow moving, that's quite an accolade.



But the exposed Achilles Heel is this- once you have checked in, you are in charge more than you know. At that point, they NEED you to cooperate, but can't seem to force you. Hoo-fucking-ray! I can't wait until I fly again. I'm checking in early, with a lot of heavy baggage, and then I'm going to get lost on the concourse. Maybe I'll go tap my feet in the crapper and see if I can fuck with some people. If they arrest me for soliciting in the toilet, I'll use the arrest photo and publicity to announce my Senate candidacy. Maybe I'll cause a scene in the food court by accusing the McDonalds of putting mood control drugs in the secret sauce. I'll wear Depends on top of my pants and wear big rubber boots filled to overflowing with creamed corn, and preach to passersby about the disappearing Utah wetlands. I'll conspicuously smell things, like handrails on escalators. I will do all of this until 5 minutes AFTER the scheduled departure time, whereupon, I will announce that Allah (praise be unto him) wants me to board my flight now.

Labels:

Friday, October 05, 2007

I Love This Town.

Ready, Set, HUMP!
Everything You Need to Know About Our Third Annual Porn Contest.


Here's the link: www.thestranger.com

Now, I understand that I'm way too fat and old (not to mention WAY to perverted) to be IN one of these contests, but maybe I could direct....

Labels:

Thursday, October 04, 2007

Welcome to Bizarro Seattle


I can't hardly believe this, but outside my office window, 25 floors down, there is a concert happening that is making ungodly amounts of racket. The Sheraton hotel is apparently celebrating the opening of a new building by having K.C. & the Sunshine Band make loud noises that bounce terribly off the glass buildings into a muddied rumble.

That's the scene below me. "That's the way, uh huh, uh huh, I like it..." Or not.

Labels: