Would you believe that tomorrow is November 1? (All Saints Day, or the Day of the Dead for some of you.) Everyone knows what November brings: cold weather, snow, days off, and the onset of the Holidays. The Holidays, as far as I know, are Christmas, Hannukah, Kwanzaa, and, I suppose, New Year's.
Fixed in a tangible medium of expression at 3:56 PM. Keep this for posterity.
Friday, October 31, 2003
It's almost time for the Holidays
The holidays are one of those frustrating times, for me, at least, to be American. Let's consider a few things. Now, no matter what most of you are going to say, everybody associates Christmas with getting gobs and gobs of presents. Hey, I admit it, I do too. Everybody knows that Christmas is the celebration of Jesus's birth - you know, that guy who is supposedly bringing us salvation.
But now, I think that Christmas is becoming a purely secular holiday. Even those of us who are pretty much non-practicing Christians celebrate it. Those would be the people who go to church only on Christmas and Easter. But, the point is, Christmas is now a pure celebration of capitalism, because what do you do to get ready for Christmas? You buy presents. Lots and lots of presents. And they get that going all the way into November. I am going to go to Target after work here, and I am pretty sure that there will already be some Christmas stuff on sale. To a certain degree, it makes me sick - people celebrating without considering why. Not that it really matters to me - but I won't pretend that I consider Christmas as a religious holiday, because to me, it isn't any more. So, in essence, there are those of us who think Christmas is a religious celebration, and those of us who celebrate at some sort of secular festivities for family and friends. And lots and lots of presents. Speaking of presents, I don't think I have ever bought a Christmas present more than a week before Christmas. But that must be because I am a procrastinator.
Speaking of Christmas, many people call it X-mas. Do you know why? Cause "X" is a symbol from medieval times for Christ. Probably because an X looks like a cross, or something. But now you know that it's just not arbitrary.
Finally, my nemesis, ESPN's Quickie, made a list of the Top 5 overrated holidays:
1 - New Year's Eve
2 - Valentine's Day
3 - Halloween
4 - Arbor Day
5 - LeBron Day. (I guess he couldn't think of an actual holiday.)
Now I think we all agree that Valentine's Day is overrated. I am not sure about New Year's Eve, but I definitely think New Year's Day is overrated. Lots of things are closed, and everybody thinks they have to stay in and watch college football. Lame!
I think they are dead wrong on Halloween. What's so overrated about Halloween? It's a fun time for all, and one of our few chances, as adults, to act like children.
Arbor Day, meanwhile - that's not fair to pick on. Quickie says it's overrated because we don't get the day off. I'll assume this is a bad attempt at satire. (Though I am sure I couldn't do any better.)
That said, here are my top 5 overrated holidays:
1 - Sweetest Day. (Who the hell decided we needed another one of these?)
2 - Columbus Day. (I am not taking some sort of politically correct anti-Columbus stance, but to quote Jerry Seinfeld, "Like they wouldn't have found that anyway!")
3 - Boss's Day. (Every day is boss's day.)
4 - New Year's Day
5 - Valentine's Day (More likely than not, you're going to get in trouble somehow.)
What do you reckon?
Okay everyone, you know I have that fun little comment box now. And, I am a little disappointed that there aren't more comments. You know, I can't be living in a vaccuum, because then nothing of consequence ever gets done, read, or said. So, if I wrankle your feathers, feel free to let me know.
Fixed in a tangible medium of expression at 4:00 PM. Keep this for posterity.Thursday, October 30, 2003
Oz's Mailbag
That said, here's a selection of some of my recent feedback:
Christy writes:
I think that there are some people out there who know how to utilize parts of their brain that the rest of us can't- or are just too stupid to figure out at least. So, for a world leader to predict that they will be assasinated, and then to be assasinated, well that might just be coincidence, but to REALLY predict it, and the how and have details, thats REAL!!!!
Well, my dear, I am not no sure. I feel like a lot of people think they can control the future. For example, I am a strong believer in curses - not necessarily something like the Curse of the Bambino or the Billy Goat Curse, but I think that excessive hubris can get you punished. This is why whenever I make an optimistic prediction, I have to immediately follow it by "knocking wood." That's why I scolded the Daily Quickie for writing off the Amazin' Marlins, and the Fenway Park grounds crew for painting the World Series logo on the grass before Game 7. Elsewhere, it's why I might not say anything about a test, or a job interview, etc. before I know the result - because, fortune doesn't like arrogance.
Now, you might say, that's nonsense. Of course my diet, or what clothes I am wearing, or what I say, has any effect on outside events. But, to paraphrase the great movie, Bull Durham, if somebody thinks he is doing well because he always eats the same thing before a game, then that's why he is doing well.
Along those lines, I think it's impossible to predict the future. The future, despite what some people might tell you, is not written. Granted, there are people who are going to look back on what has happened recently, and view it as inevitable. But did somebody foresee it?
I remember predicting, many years ago, that terrorists would eventually strike at the United States, and that America would get involved in what amounted as a holy war. But does that make me clairvoyant? I don't think so. This isn't ancient mythology; we don't have gods running around toying with us mortals. What will happen is not written yet. (Unless you are a proponent of "Terminator" style temporal thinking.)
Hateless @ RCN.com reckons:
Bono's quite possibly one of the coolest souls out there. And I'm not saying that because I'm half Irish either hehe.
Well, Mr. Hateless, you are right. Bono is cool. I am still upset that he didn't get that Nobel Peace Prize. But, as a model of the socially conscious celebrity, you can't get much better. He's no Bruce Willis offering $1 million for the head of Osama, or Britney Spears acting indignant about something. He knows his stuff. Thanks for reading.
What do you reckon?
Lately I have been hearing all kinds of stuff in the news about these solar storms that have been pummeling the Earth. The main problem that these storms cause is that they have all sorts of magnetic energy that can screw up satellites, cell phones, and the like. One of these knocked out the power to the entire province of Quebec in 1989. (Perhaps this was a very early warning to the French, eh?) Another storm, which scientists think was about fifty times as powerful as that one, shorted out telegraph wires (the only real sort of electric device in use back then) and caused all kinds of fires in 1859. These scientists now are ominously predicting that a storm like that will happen again, and wreak all sorts of havoc.
Fixed in a tangible medium of expression at 12:06 PM. Keep this for posterity.Wednesday, October 29, 2003
Solar storms a-go-go
This brings me to an interesting point. Why do we, as humans, even bother anymore? If we human beings aren't trying to kill each other, nature has it covered. Think about it. You've got your AIDS, your black plague, your malaria and diptheria. There's cholesterol-laden food, mold and poison. Then there's earthquakes, tornadoes, hurricanes, landslides, and uncontrollable wildfires. (See that - and y'all think living in California is so much cooler than Chicago.)
Now, we have to worry about stuff from outer space. I think the killer asteroid thing has been done to death. (As if the dinosaurs wouldn't have been wiped out anyway. They had brains the size of walnuts, and some humans with gigantic brains can't even figure out how to program a VCR.) So, we have all these people worrying about the asteroids. Some government-funded agency is even working on a solar sail to push a potentially disastrous asteroid out of the way. I guess they didn't think it would be possible to drill into it, a la Bruce Willis in Armageddon. (Talk about the wrong stuff!)
So, if these asteroids aren't a big enough problem, now we have solar storms. How come nobody ever said anything about these things before? Is it really possible that the sun, the great giver of life, can also take it away? It seems that if the sun decides to have a solar burp, it can send this big cloud of energy towards Earth, knocking out our communication, electricity, and all that is good and fair. Human beings, generally speaking, would be unharmed by the solar wave. But, as soon as all our junk goes out, leave it to the humans to riot, pillage and plunder. (Though, if behavior during the great blackout of August 2003 is any indication, perhaps it won't be that bad.)
I suppose one great hope is that somebody will try and make a big budget Hollywood blockbuster about one of these storms. Imagine, Mel Gibson is a scientist, charged with finding out how to stop the solar storm before it does too much damage. Obviously, the producers will have to find some way to blow up Paris, first. Now, that would be cool.
What do you reckon?
I have just discovered the coolest web site ever, one that, I am sure, What is this site, you ask? It's the Paper Rock Scissors challenge site. It's quite simple, really. Type your name and e-mail address in (it even has some sort of security dealy to keep others from sabotaging you), and then your opponent's e-mail adrress. Make your choice (indicated by rather silly pictures of a rock, paper, and scissors.) Wait for your opponent's response, and away you go. I, of course, got off to a quick start against Dan, who is pretty much the most hapless rock paper scissors player there is. After five matches, I have three victories, two draws, and nary a loss. However, with RPS being a game of both skill and luck, I do not anticipate staying undefeated for long.
Fixed in a tangible medium of expression at 4:57 PM. Keep this for posterity.Monday, October 27, 2003
Speaking of RPS, a 31 year old Toronto man recently became the world champion of Rock Paper Scissors, defeating his opponent's "rock" with a "paper." While I am not going to comment too much on this, I wonder how hard competitive RPS is. I am sure that there is some sort of science to it, including, I am guessing, a good set of reactions. I wonder if it's possible to discern what the other player plans to throw, and altering style accordingly. You know, a baseball player supposedly can see a pitcher's hand and determine what sort of pitch is coming, so maybe these guys can tell if a "rock" is about to be thrown. If they can - well, perhaps they have a little too much time on their hands.
One last RPS story. This is one of my favorites. Founders Field, October 2000. Shaun McCloskey and I are playing flag football, when we go to the captains' meeting with the referees. (This is snarky intramural referee term for when we tell the captains to behave, or I'll call Terence and he will be none-too-happy.) This referee used RPS as his preferred method for deciding who gets to kick off, and Shaun took the honors. So, the other captain puts his fist on his hand, in the typical ready position for RPS. Shaun, on the other hand, starts to wave his fist in a sort of weaving motion. (Like when a PMSing girl will snap her fingers three times in the air.)
As he does this, he says, "Paper, scissors, rock!" Everyone had the same expression, which was one of total confusion, followed by uneasy laughter. Yes, it was a very amusing sight, indeed.
Regarding Founders Field, I was a little upset to hear that the venerable Field is being taken over by a new dormitory and a new Physical Activities Center. Granted, we need a new dorm and the current PAC is a piece of shit, but why, oh why, must they demolish Founders Field? Every time I set foot on a smooth, grassy field, I am reminded of Founders Field - with the plentitude of rocks, the shards of broken beer bottles, the condom wrappers, and other pieces of trash. I still have scars from ill-advised slide tackles on that field. And, who could forget the Founders Hop? There sure were a lot of bruises from a softball that skipped up in your face after striking a pebble. And now, today's Flyers will not have such memories. They will be worse off for it.
Now, what about these BMW radio commercials? In my advertising class, we read how radio advertising could be Advertising Hell, but it doesn't have to be. Whoever is making BMW's ads, if not in real Hell, ought to be there pretty soon. I think I talked about the first ad, which has two extremely dull characters playing a very fast game of pool while discussing BMW's vs. Mercedes. It sucked.
Next, we have two office schlubs walking to their cars after another strenuous work day. One of them spies a BMW 7-series, and they begin to talk about what a swell car it is. Finally one of them suggests waiting around to see if the owner would kindly let them take it for a drive. Just then, we hear the sound of healings walking on pavement, then a beeping noise that sounds like the generic sound of some arrogant fool unlocking his car that costs more than you make in three years. "Is this your car?" one of the schlubs says, stupidly. "Uh yes," the arrogant lady responds. Then, she drives off, tires squealing. One schlub ridicules the other, who responds angrily, and the announcer intones that the only way to get in a BMW, unless your friend owns one, is to take a test drive. Fair enough. But still - what a terrible commercial.
Along those lines, BMW also has some commercials for certified pre-owned BMW's. The first of these commercials deals with how cool it is to certify something, like a relationship. "Wouldn't it be nice to certify a relationship? Well, you can't do that!" Then, she says, why bother certifying a used car? To certify that someone else owned it? THen, paradoxically, she suggests that certified pre-owned BMW's are better, because they are certified road-handlers, certified stylish, etc. Yet, somehow, this is above some other sort of certified car?
A second used BMW ad begins with the same lady, who begins, "Hello, it's me." Then, she goes into how great certified pre-owned BMW's are. I usually turn the ad off at this point, but I really think it is bad that they have to begin the ad with "it's me." I don't know you, except as the annoying, smarmy, used BMW lady. Once again, terrible, terrible stuff. *I* could do better!
Lastly, I got drafted into pitching softball yesterday. I didn't have that good of an outing, wherein I allowed something like 11 runs in 5 innings. (That's an 19.80 ERA, if you are counting, and supposing that every run was earned - which, I imagine, if this was real baseball, about 4 of those might have been earned.) Anyhow, you might say, well Osgood pitched terribly - except, imagine this, the other guy also allowed 11 runs. It was, I think, the first time I pitched a softball game and didn't lose. I even struck someone out, ho ho ho.
The other team did me a favor by actually swinging, as opposed to making me throw strikes, which is the wholly honorable way to play softball. I still remember a team in college who refused to swing, thus racking up tons of walks until I found my groove and struck out a few of the bastards. I also managed an actual base hit, which felt pretty good since I've had about a two-year hitting slump.
What do you reckon?
First off, a pat on the back to me for correctly predicting that the Amazin' Marlins would defeat the Evil Empire (aka New York Yankees) in this World Series. So, for all of you who doubted the Marlins - and honestly, anyone who witnessed their persistance and ultimate manhandling of the Cubs couldn't reasonably doubt them - take that! Though, in honesty, I think that was the first time I actually predicted a sporting event that somehow went the way I wanted it to go.
Fixed in a tangible medium of expression at 10:28 PM. Keep this for posterity.Sunday, October 26, 2003
Lincoln Park rapist, World Series, and on and on
Now, on to more pregnant matters. This Lincoln Park Rapist guy is starting to piss me off. He's been preying on women walking alone late at night, and struck first a few blocks from my house. Now he's at it again, attacking a woman once again close to my house, and another one near Clark & Halsted.
I don't know why he doesn't give up - he is going to get caught soon. I am especially angry at this guy because now I have to be all worried about whether or not my friends are going to get home at night. It sure does make me uneasy knowing that my tiny little lady friends are out there with this person lurking around - because, let's face it, I or other people cannot be there all the time. Personally, I don't like having to worry about that - especially when this is happening in spots all around my house, which means he could well be sneaking around here right now. But, believe you me, when he gets caught, there is going to be hell to pay. One of these days, he is going to jump someone who is well-versed in the art of knees to the groin, or other painful methods of guy injuring.
Now, finally, in other news, I had one of those strange nights on Friday. It started off well enough, drinking $1 Old Styles and playing some rousing drinking games. We visited a bar called Rose's, on Lincoln, which is a little hole-in-the-wall run by a European lady. Her name? Rose, of course. The hours rolled by, until it came closing time. Then the strangeness set in. I drunkenly agreed to go to Beaumont, the infamous late night bar. Then, someone in the cab poo-pooed Beaumont, and we went to another place called The Store, which was fortuitously located next to Beaumont.
I was ready to go pretty soon after that, but instead found myself getting free beers. Now, I am never one to turn down alcohol, but I had been drinking since 9, and I was ready to go. About this time, one of my companions started to insist that I ask her friend out on a date. Now, as I said before, I was pretty tired, plus I wasn't really in a date-asking mood. So I declined - not because there was anything wrong with the supposed object of my desires, I just didn't feel like it. Thus, this went on for a good hour, with continual demands, and me growing progressively more annoyed. I just barely managed to avoid getting angry - but then, at 4:30 in the morning, I finally got to go home, free of my obligations. Before this, mind you, we had gone back to someone's apartment where two strangers jumped in her roommate's bed and badgered the poor fellow. All in all, it was very strange. I did get to walk home though at 4:30 in the morning - and no sighting of the rapist.
What do you reckon?
Last night, I went to the movies. Simply getting to the theater is often an adventure, because it is way out there on Western Avenue - which, apparently, is the longest street in the world. I left at about 6:40, went to pick up my friend, and got there at about 7:15. The movie we saw was School of Rock - and as Jack Black so aptly points out, rock is about sticking it to The Man. For example, Annie and I stuck it to The Man by using our expired student ID's to get $2 off our tickets.
Fixed in a tangible medium of expression at 3:21 PM. Keep this for posterity.Friday, October 24, 2003
A night at the movies
School of Rock, I thought, was one of the better movies I've seen lately. The movie started a bit slow - Jack Black plays guitar in a band stupidly named No Vacancy, but his erratic behavior gets him replaced by a man named Spider. Jack's roommate and his live-in girlfriend, the always lovely Sarah Silverman, attempt to evict Jack unless he pays up. Thus, Jack fakes his way into becoming a substitute teacher at a prestigious elementary school. He soon decides to turn his class into a rock band, and enter the upcoming battle of the bands. Surprisingly, the movie rocked - plus, all the kid actors were fabulous. They weren't simple caricatures, but actual people. I wholly recommend School of Rock - though you will have to be able to withstand the impish Jack Black.
Tonight, meanwhile, I am supposedly going to see Psycho at Soldier Field. I am a bit intimidated, because, quite frankly, Psycho is the scariest movie I have ever seen. Modern day slasher flicks have nothing on this movie. I am. generally speaking, a fairly levelheaded person - but Psycho, well, that left me a-ga-ga. I am hoping that tonight, I will not be quite so freaked out. That remains to be seen.
Also, how about the Florida Marlins? I wrote a nasty letter to the person who writes the Daily Quickie over on ESPN, because after Game 3, he had completely written off the Marlins. But then, the Quickie is all about making rash and snappy opinions. Consider that the Quickie deemed it "impossible" that the Marlins would come back to beat Mark Prior and Kerry Wood in the NLCS. (Okay, I didn't think it was likely either, but I wouldn't risk such embarassment by actually writing it down!) Anyhow, the Marlins are now up 3 games to 2 on the Yankees, with a chance to win the Series tomorrow. Of course, if the Yankees win, then we go to yet another Game 7. Amazing.
I really don't feel that good about cheering for the Marlins, personally. At least not for the city. They supported their team terribly, with what I think was the third-lowest attendance in the majors. Attendance was low even when they were pushing for the Wild Card, which is absolutely ridiculous. The owners are fools, such as Jeffrey Loria, who wrecked the Montreal Expos. Wayne Huizenga, the previous owner who still owns Pro Player Stadium, famously broke up the Marlins after their first World Series title and is now pumping the Marlins for more money.
But I like their players. Ivan Rodriguez is one of the best catchers of our generation; Miguel Cabrera is amazing for a 21-year old; and Jeff "Mr. Marlin" Conine is still consistent. I could go on, but I shan't. I love Jack McKeon, who I still think was unfairly run out of Cincinnati.
That said, I could never root for the Yankees to win, so I cheer for the Marlins by default. I admire the Marlins team - but not its fans, that's for sure.
What do you reckon?
So, my friends the Barenaked Ladies finally came out with a new record, a good three years after their previous effort. I have to say, I was a bit daunted when I first heard the single, Another Postcard. It's such a silly song, in the One Week vein. I don't know how popular the song will be, except that it is currently in the Mix's heavy rotation, which can either make your song a commercial success (see Maroon5, "Harder to Breath") or get drilled into your head so much that you are about to flip out (Jason Mraz, "The Remedy," though I guess Mraz isn't doing too bad, since his record went gold awhile ago.) But I digress. Another Postcard - it grows on you. Chimps is just a fun word to say. In case you haven't heard the song, the protagonist (in this case, one Mr. Ed Robertson) keeps receiving post cards with pictures of monkeys on it, from all over the world. Interesting premise, eh?
Fixed in a tangible medium of expression at 3:16 PM. Keep this for posterity.Thursday, October 23, 2003
A little bit of this, a little bit of that
Anywho, I was worried that the entire record would be silly like that. For the most part, that's not true. I really enjoy many of the songs, and I feel like I'll be listening to this one for awhile. There's still the silliness, but also the clever, and occasionally dark and introspective lyrics. Good stuff.
Now, in other news, the Senate passed a bill 97-0 that enacts measures against spammers, including a "do not e-mail" list and a ban on deceptive e-mail subject lines. I think this is great, but I am also pretty sure this isn't going to be very successful. Spammers are a devious bunch, and they will find some way to get around these laws - spam, unfortunately, is just one of those things we have to deal with.
It can be quite a pain though - for example, I can't use one of my e-mail accounts because it gets so much spam, I can't sift through it to find the real e-mail. My hotmail gets spam all the time, but most of it gets filtered out. Still, some of it gets through, and the spam filter invariably blocks some actual e-mail from friends. Bastards!
What do you reckon?
My life is complete. I am now the proud recepient of a spotter's badge. What's a spotter's badge, you say? I'll tell you. European soccer commentators are an interesting bunch - they are mostly ex players and managers, and they do not always have as firm a grasp on the English language as, say, Al Michaels, John Madden, or the esteemed Joe Nuxhall, Marty Brenneman, Ron Santo and the immortal Harry Caray. These commentators are famous for making silly or crude remarks. They even have a name for it: guff. Luckily, a web site is devoted to preserving guff: Danger Here!
Fixed in a tangible medium of expression at 11:30 AM. Keep this for posterity.Spotter's Badge
The fine folks there are dedicated to the art of guff - after all, it is nearly impossible to make up stuff like, "We didn't underestimate them. They were just a lot better than we thought," or "Ardiles strokes the ball like it's part of his anatomy." Classic.
So it was that I was keeping tabs on the Champions League match between my beloved Arsenal and Ukrainian outfit Dynamo Kiev, when I spotted a piece of guff in the live commentary. Being the dutiful visitor that I am, I submitted the offending words, and it is now on the website. I even got my named mentioned - a spotter's badge for me!
What do you reckon?
I was all excited about the S&G reunion tour - how often will such a thing happen? But, I was astounded by the high price of tickets. The cheapest was $50, all the way up to $200 or so. Nevertheless, two shows at United Center sold out almost immediately. I heard on the radio just now that a limited number of obstructed view seats were just released - in this case, seats behind the stage. I rushed over to ticketmaster, and sure enough, tickets were available - but at $85 a pop. This, mind you, is for a seat behind the stage - not the best view. Don't forget that Ticketmaster also was slapping an $11 fee on top of that, plus other stuff too.
Fixed in a tangible medium of expression at 3:00 PM. Keep this for posterity.Tuesday, October 21, 2003
Simon and Garfunkel
Ticketmaster, as a whole, really pisses me off. I know that they are a business, in this case, selling tickets. And I can understand the service fee, because they have to print them, mail them, insure them, and all that stuff. But isn't a bit preposterous that the amount of fees I pay should increase based on how much the ticket is worth? Why not just a flat fee? If I do decide to throw down $85 for Simon and Garfunkel, I will probably be paying another $25 in fees on each ticket. That's absolutely ridiculous. A lot of places don't even provide an alternate to ticketmaster, leaving people like me with no other choice.
The Riviera Theater, for example, does not have a box office. I am seeing Barenaked Ladies there on Saturday, and my tickets were something like $35 each, but I ended up paying $98 for two of them, because of all the various fees. So I basically paid for a third ticket. This is terrible - and something ought to be regulated with these guys, because they have a de facto monopoly on tickets. Humpfh!
Incidentally, I think somebody asked Mick Jagger why Rolling Stones tickets were astoundingly high, moreso than fellow geriatric Paul McCartney. Sir Mick said something to the effect that there were more Rolling Stones who needed to cash in. At least he was honest.
What do you reckon?
Apple, much to their credit, has finally made the iTunes store available for PC schmucks like myself. I have an ominous feeling that I am going to be spending a lot of money there. It is also fabulously simple to use, though their selection is not entirely complete. As we all know, the Beatles are nowhere to be found, and there isn't much in the way of 60's rock at all yet. But, that said, this looks like it is going to be an invaluable resource, and 99 cents is not much to pay for a song. I am a bit put off by the way my credit card information is saved right on file, because now anyone could sneak in on my computer and download all this junk I don't want. Yikes!
Fixed in a tangible medium of expression at 12:02 PM. Keep this for posterity.The Apple iTunes store and Niagara Falls
But, I was delighted to discover that my pals over at Guster were making all kinds of fun stuff available on the iTunes. I got a slick a little EP which contains acoustic versions of "Amsterdam," "Ramona," and "Barrel of a Gun." For $3! Also, they have the "Meow Mix" of Keep It Together, which is basically the new Guster CD with all the words replaced by meowing. Yes, it is totally weird, and I am probably not going to buy that - but it was still pretty funny.
Now, in other fun news, a man apparently survived a trip over the Niagara Falls. As a person with all kinds of family in Buffalo, only a short drive from the Falls, I am always intrigued by people's fascination with the Falls. Something like ten people have successfully gone over the Falls and survived, but this guy did it without a barrel, or anything. Just himself. And he survived unscathed, nary a scar. I don't know how he did it, but the odds of surviving like that are very small. Absolutely incredible, I must say.
What do you reckon?
Hey, how about this? I think it was last Saturday afternoon, when I was in one of my want-to-do-work-but-avoid-it-nonetheless moods, I was flipping through my TV channels when I saw a hunting show, with a little deer walking around unsuspectingly. I figured this was just another hunting show - wherein a hunter triumphs over an animal, such as a turkey, by hiding in a dugout and using a whistle to trick the turkey. I find that hunting with a bow is slightly more honorable. (Though, if I had my choice, I would have to think that hunting another human being would be the hardest. Without, of course, the killing.) Anyhow, the hunting show was progressing normally, when they panned in on the hunter. It was, interestingly enough, a kid who was maybe 12. After much hesistation and prodding by his dad, the kid pulled the trigger and felled the deer. Then, I discovered one of the more disturbing things - not only was this a kid, he was a mentally retarded kid. He was shooting deer in some sort of game preserve, sponsored by something akin to the Make a Wish Foundation, except for shooting animals.
Fixed in a tangible medium of expression at 3:04 PM. Keep this for posterity.Monday, October 20, 2003
Hunting shows, NC, and Princess Di
Now, I am not one to pass judgement on why people go hunting. I have never found the idea of killing a deer to make a trophy out of him to be very appealing. Though I imagine that if I worse came to worse, I would consider hunting for my own survival. But hopefully that will not come in the forseeable future. The thing is, what sort of kid dreams about shooting a deer? It just doesn't make sense to me. Clearly the dad, and I think his uncle was there as well, were all about hunting. Maybe it's a family thing - but, I just don't see how killing something, especially when it is by your child who cannot have a completely normal life, is fulfilling. There is just not something honorable about it - then again, most hunting today doesn't appear to be very honorable. Killing never is, of course. (Despite what some people might tell you.)
Now, meanwhile, I spent the past weekend in a place called Raleigh, NC. Raleigh was a very pretty city, with rolling hills, a moderate disposition (both weatherly and temperamentally), and plentiful parks. I am told, though, that they can't handle any amount of snow, though apparently they couldn't handle any kind of driving, either. Many thanks to my hosts - you know who you are - for putting up with us. We also visited Chapel Hill, home of the University of North Carolina. Arch-rival Duke is something like a ten minute drive away, in the neighboring down of Durham.
Raleigh, as you ought to know, is the capital of North Carolina. Of interesting note was the Governor's Mansion, built in the 1880's using convict labor. It seems that the convicts worked hard, and at the end of every day they stacked bricks and marked how many they had laid. The convicts then wrote their names on the bricks, and sometimes various messages. I did not see any, but today you can still see these markings. Some are reputed to read "Help Me," or other various pleadings.
A funny thing happened in Chapel Hill. We were sitting in bar, when two guys wearing Alabama football hats approached us, and concluded that Dan's dad had played football for legendary Bama coach Paul "Bear" Bryant. They began to loudly yell that "his daddy played for Bear Bryant!" (Imagine this said in a heavy Alabama drawl, and it becomes highly amusing.) Why a couple of people from Ohio might have been playing for Bear Bryant, I really could not tell you. (I wanted to say that his dad never got in the game, because he was backup to an All-American named Gump.)
Also in Chapel Hill, we were crossing the street in the crowded bar area. Frequent readers (all one of you) will know that I get especially combative towards cars who try to take advantage of pedestrians. Thus, we were crossing the street when a car decided he wanted to turn right. (He had a green light, and thusly we had a walk sign.) Our group crossed, admittedly not hurrying up, until the car laid on its horn. We all scowled at him, and then the passenger opened her door (as opposed to rolling down the window), and yelled "Fuck you!" I was fairly riled at this point, and I shot back: (This is a classic response, by the way) "No, fuck you!" I don't normally say such things to strangers, but it was wholly appropriate. The car then turned around, and came back our way. I started looking for places to dodge a hail of bullets, but he sped past us. Now, if he is going to take the time to make a U-turn and do a drive-by on us, he obviously wasn't in that big of a hurry to have to honk at us.
Finally, I am reading today that Princess Diana predicted her own death in a car accident, albeit through a fiendish plot by friends of Prince Charles to allow him to marry the onerous Camilla Parker Bowles. The thing is, lots of people supposedly predict things - though I think that is a bunch of bunk. Sure, we have the famous story of Abe Lincoln forseeing his assasination, but I feel like this is an example of what the esteemed Dr. David Brenders calls the availability heuristic. That is, we always assume something sensational is going to happen to us, such a car crash, assasination attempt, etc. But these things are very rare, but seem more likely because when they do happen, there is much ado about them. If I am a world leader, of course I am going to worry about getting popped. I might even have a dream about it. Do you think President Clinton ever had dreams of getting assasinated? I am sure he did - but, obviously, nothing happened to him. So I don't know. Here's hoping nothing happens to me!
What do you reckon?
How absolutely eerie is this? The Sox are leading the Evil Empire, NY Yankees, 5-2 in the bottom of the 8th inning. Pedro has been masterful through 6, but had a rocky 7th. Pedro gets an out in the 8th, then lets two men on base. Grady Little comes out to talk to the great man, and Pedro tells him that he's not coming out, despite the fact that two solid relievers are ready to go. A few pitches later, and we have a tie score. The Sox can't push any runs across, we got extras, and Tim Wakefield comes in to pitch the 10th inning. He carves up the Yanks, and then Mariano Rivera, pitching his third inning, dismisses the Sox in the 11th. Wakefield comes out again, and Aaron Boone, hitting .125 for the post season, crushes the first pitch into the left field stands. Game over, Yankees win the pennant, and the Sox go home. You somehow knew this would happen - every Sox fan knows it is going to happen. Boston's luck finally ran out, as it often does. There is nothing else to lose, now. This past week of baseball has been the most emotionally draining for me, ever. Myself, every Sox fan, and every Cub fan, has died a million deaths. When will it end?
Fixed in a tangible medium of expression at 11:35 PM. Keep this for posterity.Thursday, October 16, 2003
Game 7
I didn't really expect us to beat the Yankees. After all, the Sox never do. Will they some day? It should have happened today, but Grady Little's hunch was a wrong one. There is no point in second-guessing now, because we can never know what would happened. Seven remarkable games, and the Yankees, of course, win.
The Florida Marlins, as we have seen, are a pesky bunch. I am going to go out on a limb, and predict the Marlins to snatch this World Series - if they can get reliable work out of their starters.
What do you reckon?
Today, in the mail, I received these. I still trusty in Dusty, even if I think he tried to ride Prior and Wood too long in games 6 & 7. Cubbies in '04!
Fixed in a tangible medium of expression at 5:02 PM. Keep this for posterity.Irony
What do you reckon?
Lost in all this trauma about the Cubs, is the Red Sox vs. Yankees series. This thing is shaping up to be a classic. Everybody knows how I feel about the Red Sox, and the Yankees. One I love, the other I hate. Before I moved to Chicago, the Sox were my team - and in may ways, they still are. It is very hard to be as passionate about a team when you live so far away, but I am doing the best that I can.
Fixed in a tangible medium of expression at 2:16 PM. Keep this for posterity.More baseball
Tonight, we have Pedro Martinez going against Roger Clemens. The last time they met, there was a melee involving Don "The Gerbil" Zimmer, Karim Garcia, a zealous Sox groundskeeper, and Pedro and the Rocket. In case you don't remember, Pedro plunked Garcia, and then Clemens threw a pitch that riled Manny Ramirez. Manny confronted Clemens, and the benches emptied. For whatever reason, Zimmer goes after Martinez, and Pedro deflects Zimmer into the ground. Zimmer, of course, is the Yankees' 72 year old bench coach. It was truly a spectacle. (My thought has always been that American League pitchers aren't going to be plunking people so much if they had to go to bat, instead of the ludicrous designated hitter.)
But, this will be some kind of ballgame. Clemens is 41 (and born in Dayton, of all places), and probably one of the last pitchers to win 300 career games. Greg Maddux, at 37, has 289 wins. After him is Tom Glavine at around 250, and Randy Johnson at 240. They won't make it to 300. Clemens is tied with a guy named Cy Young for most wins in Sox history (192), and has captured Cy's trophy an amazing six times. Pedro Martinez, meanwhile, is clearly a Hall of Fame candidate with three Cy Youngs of his own. This is a pitching matchup made in heaven.
Clemens and Martinez are notorious hotheads. Who can forget the time the Rocket was ejected in the 1990 ALCS? And Pedro, let's face it, loves to plunk a guy every now and then, like a skilful Ricky Vaughn. I have a feeling, though, that the shenanigans of game three will not be repeated. Whoever wins this, goes to the World Series. The Cubs failed to reverse their curse - will this be Boston's time?
Speaking of the designated hitter, I wish baseball would get rid of this dreadful abomination. Sure, pitchers are bad hitters. So what? They're still players, and should have to hit. The DH was a lame gimmick in the 70's, and still is. Of course, the way things go now, I bet we'll be seeing it in the NL sooner rather than later.
What do you reckon?
I am not going to say too much about the Cubs, because, well, there isn't much to say. They blew it, plain and simple. Kerry Wood, bless his soul, couldn't come up with one more magical performance. McGee's, where I watched the game, practically exploded when Wood pounded a 3-run homer into the bleachers. But it fell silent as the Marlins slowly built an insurmountable lead, and all that was left were raw, painful emotions. Last night, I saw people weeping - brought about by the shortcomings of a team that played like heroes for most of the year. I don't know what will happen next year, but this year was special. Even if the Cubs couldn't pull it off.
Fixed in a tangible medium of expression at 11:06 AM. Keep this for posterity.Alas
Now, in other news, apparently today is Boss's Day. I am a little confused by this. Isn't every day Boss's Day? Are they allowed to be especially bossy today? I am kidding, obviously, but I thought it was kind of silly. I suppose the main purpose of Boss's Day is to thank your boss for not firing you since the last Boss's Day.
It's not like Secretary Day, where I was severely embarassed to find a rose on my desk. Despite the fact that I have secretary in my title, I really don't need that sort of thing to remind me. As far as secretaries go, I am a pretty shitty one, and I just sort of do what I can with that and concentrate on all that fun computer guru stuff. But, please, I don't give me roses. Maybe I can get a can of beer next time or something, like what they gave me as a marathon present. Now, that was cool.
What do you reckon?
Fixed in a tangible medium of expression at 10:10 PM. Keep this for posterity.Tuesday, October 14, 2003
Gobsmacked, or I am trying to break your heart
That's the title of a Wilco song, and that's a Cub fan attempting to catch a foul ball in the top of the 8th inning, much to Moises Alou's bitterness. Instead of what probably should have been out number two, the batter survived, eventually drawing a walk off Mark Prior. Then, Alex Gonzalez bobbles a ball, and the Marlins survive. Showing no mercy, they pile on 8 runs, and now we are facing Game 7 at Wrigley Field. The usually reliable Kerry Wood is again pitching for the Cubs, and this is undoubtedly going to be the biggest game of his life. Considering my sports luck, I am not going to hold my breath.
But back to this fateful Game 6, which ended about fifteen minutes ago. Prior was cruising, and the Cubs were up 3-0 as the 8th inning began. Things were looking good. Then, everything unraveled. It is hard not to blame this fan. After all, we see fans get out of the way all the time to help their team out. All he had to do was back off - actually, three fans look like they tried to catch the ball - and Moises would have been able to catch the ball. But, as it was, the umpire decided it was not fan interference, and the at bat continued. Should it have been interference? I think it could have gone either way - obviously, it didn't go the right way for the Cubs. It's hard not to get caught up in the game, but as a fan, you have to be aware of what's going on around you. Alou should have caught that ball, and this fan, whoever he is, could very well join the pantheon of great sports boneheads. That is not something I could live with. But now he has to.
Needless to say, despite the fan interference, the Cubs shot themselves in the foot. There is no way they should have given up 8 runs. Gonzalez gave the Marlins a second life with his dreadful error. Then, to let Mike Mordecai hit a three-run single? I am amazed. It should never, never, had come to that. If Gonzalez doesn't commit the error, the score could have easily stayed 3-1, or 3-3. Incredible. I am truly, truly, speechless.
This is what baseball is about, though. Sport, generally speaking, is about heartbreak. The teams are here to break your heart. It's happened to me plenty of times. The Bills lose the Super Bowl four times in a row. The Sabres get screwed over in the Stanley Cup Finals. On and on it goes. Tomorrow, will it happen again? Let's hope Kerry Wood comes out and shuts down the Fish.
What do you reckon?
According to the newspaper, magician David Blaine has but a few days remaining before the end of his self-imposed "endurance challenge" in a box above the River Thames in London. He started way back in September, with only water to sustain him for the next 44 days. Why he chose 44 days, I do not really know. But, as it is, Blaine suspended himself in the clear plastic box, with a tube for water and another for waste. No food, no entertainment, no nothing. He did have a curtain for more private moments.
Fixed in a tangible medium of expression at 2:20 PM. Keep this for posterity.Magicians in boxes
What amazes me the most about the stunt is the reaction people are having to it. When I first learned about it, I thought it was kind of stupid. But then, Blaine is the guy who stood on a hundred foot pole for 48 hours, stood in a block of ice for 60 hours, and buried himself alive for two weeks. He has such an idealistic goal, though, which I just love: to bring people together.
Of course, right now it looks like Blaine is dividing people into two distinct groups: those who love him, and those who hate him. The lovers do things such as flash him, shout encouragement, or just stare thoughtfully. I think, if I was stuck inside a box and girls started flashing me, I would have to say "screw you" to the stunt.
The haters, on the other hand, are much more sinister. They even have a web site. (But who doesn't these days?) They like to entice David with food, loud noises, and general mayhem. One particularly zealous Blaine hater tried to cut down the box and send him to a watery grave. Former Beatle Paul McCartney even scuffled with observers outside the box.
But what is it about Blaine that makes these people go to such lengths? He is inspiring a great deal of hatred for someone who is just existing. Many of the British are upset that an American is coming over and stealing their thunder. We all know how the British can be condescending towards Americans, and they wish our poor fellow ill. Many, I think, are resentful at the brashness of the stunt.
But, I say, more power to him. You probably couldn't pay me a million dollars to sit in a box for forty days. But, I suppose one advantage of that is not having to go to work.
What do you reckon?
Well people, I actually managed to finish the Chicago Marathon. This was no small feat, simply because I am, generally speaking, one out of shape bastard. The marathon went something like this: The first maybe 15 miles were a piece of cake. They were quite swell, actually. There were spectators everywhere, sometimes seven or eight deep. Since I was decked out in my "I pity the fool!" shirt, I was easily recognized and received motivation in the form of, "Come on, Mr. T!" This was usually followed by a rousing rendition of "I pity the fool!" I was probably the only person to sport that shirt, so I was quite distinctive.
Fixed in a tangible medium of expression at 11:34 AM. Keep this for posterity.Monday, October 13, 2003
Marathon
Anyhow, around mile 15 I got that great little sinking feeling, or the feeling that I am really bored, and don't want to run anymore. I took frequent breaks, such as a good six or seven minute stop to use the restroom. I don't know what the lady in line ahead of me was doing, but she took forever! Nevertheless, I persevered, and reached the finish line a cruel 5 hours after I had started, or about the time the Kenyan who had won had taken a shower, eaten lunch, gotten a massage, smoked a cigar, and gone to sleep for two hours.
There was a lot of entertainment along the way. North Avenue, around mile 10, had an Elvis impersonator. Boys Town, the flamboyantly gay part of town at mile 8, had fellows dressed in drag as the Wizard of Oz, and also a Cher impersonator. (Also a man.) There were rock bands stationed all along the route, and your standard guys with bullhorns shouting motivation. Most people get themselves motivated by putting their name on their shirt with athletic tape, so that spectators can shout at them. I, of course, settled for Mr. T. I was also buouyed by my cell phone, which I proudly carried and used to give periodic updates to whoever wanted them. Some other runners made fun of me, but they had to run allllll alone. I highly recommend marathoning with a cell phone. Once again, thanks to all who called to wish me luck. I surely needed it.
All in all, it was more successful than my previous marathon. Of course, at the end of this one, I had to walk around on aching legs for two hours to find my friends and parents, and then a taxi (we finally gave up and took the subway), and then walk back to my house. Dreadful time, that was.
Now, I am off to write a four page paper that I just discovered is due in approximately five hours. Oops!
What do you reckon?
How cool is Bono? Let me tell you how cool he is. Frequent readers and friends of mine must know that I idolize Bono (not necessarily the band U2, but just Bono.) He has actually gotten away with saying "fuck" on American broadcast TV. The backdrop: Bono won something at the Golden Globes, and gave a victory speech. He said this was "fuckin' brilliant," which is undoubtedly the first time anybody has been excited to win a Golden Globe. The Parents' Television Council, a group of people sworn to strike down obscenity on TV (for the sake of the children, of course), objected at Bono's exuberance.
Fixed in a tangible medium of expression at 2:19 PM. Keep this for posterity.Friday, October 10, 2003
Bono and the comment box and maybe the Cubs and the Sox
The FCC, on the other hand, deigned to hand out fines to the TV stations which broadcast the remarks. (Side note: why is it the stations' fault? They didn't know Bono was going to say that, considering the Globes were a live broadcast, I am pretty sure.) The FCC declared that it was okay, because the word was not used in a obscene sense, but rather as an adverb. Only somebody like Bono could pull it off.
In other Bono news, the great man failed to win the Nobel Peace Prize. The $1.3 million pot went to Iranian activist Shirin Ebadi. Admittedly, Bono was a long shot, but his efforts to stamp out hunger and disease in Africa are certainly worthy of consideration. It's good to see somebody using his fame for good. Pope John Paul II was also apparently in contention, though we never really know - the Nobel committee keeps all nominees and deliberations secret for 50 years.
Some yahoo nominated George W. Bush and Tony Blair, for their efforts to eradicate terrorism. Why yes, that is somehow admirable - but I wouldn't say they are using peaceful methods.
I also added this cool little comment box. I anticipate no comments, because I really don't think anyone actually reads this. If you do, why not let me know you're out there? Please?
Lastly, the Cubs are now tied 1 to 1 with the evil Florida Marlins in the NLCS. Over in the AL, the Sox and Yankees are also deadlocked. This, so far, has been one of the great baseball postseasons in recent memory. Not only do you have the feel good Cubs and Sox, but there has been a lot of high drama. How about Trot Nixon keeping the Sox alive with a 11th inning blast at Fenway? Or Pudge Rodriguez absorbing a collision with JT Snow at home in the top of the 9th, to win the game AND the series? Classic. Or Kerry Wood, dominating the Braves. Sammy Sosa pounding a ball onto Waveland Avenue, into a throng of fans (who can't even see the game from out there), in the bottom of the 9th? I get goosebumps thinking about. Long live baseball!
My only fear, is that the Sox and Cubs will meet in the Series. I have come to love both of these clubs. I cannot imagine anything scarier than having to root against one - or one having to lose the Series. Damn. Baseball!
What do you reckon?
I remember watching VH1 awhile ago, where they were showing "Wackiest Game Show Moments," or something like that. A lot of them were from Family Feud, where the great Richard Dawson would ask somebody to name something they have for dinner, and he'll reply with a stupid non-sequiter, such as "sex."
Fixed in a tangible medium of expression at 1:19 PM. Keep this for posterity.Great Moments in TV history
Well, the show ended with what was supposed to be the greatest moment in game show history, an occurence so profound, so scary, that it never mad it on the air. The show's host, Dick Clark, aka America's oldest teenager, was understandably horrified by the clip - such things did not occur, much less were spoken about, in Dick's hey-day of Applie Pie and Red Scare America. It comes from "The Newlywed Game."
Host (to contestant): "Where is the craziest place you ever 'made whoopie?'"
Contestant: "Oh.... umm.... In the butt?"
Now, it seems that this actually occured, as they do have videotape of it. But what bothers me is that this seems to have happened so many times. I am beginning to wonder if this sort of thing is taking on a life of its own.
For example, I read about a similar event on the radio. The morning show hosts (which I still think is a great job to have), had a husband on the radio. The couple would win some sort of lavish prize, if the wife and husband were able to give the same answer to a question. Naturally, the saucy hosts asked the husband "where was the last place you and your wife had sex?" The guy gave some lame answer. The bedroom, I'll bet it was.
They then get the wife on the phone. They tell her what is at stake, and ask her the same question. She then says, "in the ass!" Silence follows. No prize.
I am certain that this must have happened somewhere, at some time. But how many times can people get asked that question - and furthermore, how many married people are actually doing that? Anal sex, that is. Between you and me, that doesn't look very fun. But I guess I should try it before I knock it, eh?
What do you reckon?
I was walking to class yesterday, when I came upon the chaotic intersection that is Halsted and Belden. If you aren't familiar with this intersection, it is stop signs all around, and Halsted is basically two lanes in each direction. Because it's right by DePaul, there are lots and lots of pedestrians milling about. Now, cars are required to yield to people in crosswalks, and I take great pleasure in crossing the street because I know how annoyed the drivers are. Yes, I am a cruel bastard.
Fixed in a tangible medium of expression at 9:56 AM. Keep this for posterity.Thursday, October 09, 2003
Embarassing item of the day
So I was crossing Halsted yesterday, and feeling quite smug as I sensed the evil gaze of the cabbies and other agitated drivers. One car sort of idled, getting all snitty that I would dare to cross the street in front of him. I was not going to give him the pleasure of speeding up, and I had finally crossed the street. Much like Sinatra, I did it My Way. (Or was that Tony Bennett?)
Then, it happened. I was wearing sandals, because I planned to enjoy the Indian Summer with shorts and sandals. My sandal caught on the street, and I wiped out right on the sidewalk. Needless to say, I was quite emasculated.
What do you reckon?
I caught the local news last night, after Boston's improbable ALDS victory over the Oakland A's. The A's and Braves might be able to rival my beloved Bills as Kings of the Choke. Anyhow, the news led off with some infuriated black police officers who are upset that Mayor Daley named a white man as the new Police superintendent, which apparently is the most powerful position in the police department. (Presumably, Da Mayor still has final say.) This new superintendent, Phillip Cline, sounds like he has his act together. According to the news, these folks are upset that a minority wasn't selected. Nevermind that this position was held by a minority for the past two decades.
Fixed in a tangible medium of expression at 3:42 PM. Keep this for posterity.Tuesday, October 07, 2003
Tuesdays are fun!
It is undoubtedly easy for me to say that they need to calm down. It is not like the Mayor is a racist or something - if he was, would there have ever been a minority superintendent? Daley thinks that this guy has what it takes to get the job done, which includes defending the interests and safety of every Chicagoan, including blacks, hispanics, and Asians. I am certain that this Cline fellow will do that. We shouldn't go about naming minorities (or women) who aren't the most qualified simply in the name of progress. I fully understand the issues behind this - but I think in this case, it is an unfounded complaint.
It reminds me of the furor surrounding the Detroit Lions and Florida Marlins. Both these teams were fined for hiring white coaches, namely Steve Mariucci and Jack McKeon, without interviewing minority candidates. Notably, they didn't interview anyone else - these were the people they wanted. Personally, if it was me, and I was a minority - which I am not, in any way - I would be insulted to be a "token" interview. I would only want to be interviewed because they think I can do the job, not because they legally have to.
What do you reckon?
Last night at about 9:20, the Chicago Cubs beat the Atlanta Braves, marking the first series victory for the Cubs since 1908, or about 95 years. Like many of the denizens of Wrigleyville, we poured into the streets to celebrate. The police blocked off Clark, Sheffield, and Addison, and let delirious Cub fans run amok. I won't lie, it felt good. But, the Cubs have a ways to go before anybody can truly celebrate. It looks good so far, though.
Fixed in a tangible medium of expression at 4:00 PM. Keep this for posterity.Monday, October 06, 2003
Joy in Mudville
What do you reckon?
Tonight is game 3 of the NL Division series. Will Mark Prior outduel Greg Maddux? What an exciting time to live in Chicago. While I won't be able to attend the game, as the outrageous scalp ticket prices would render me poor, I will be in Wrigleyville cheering like a madman.
Fixed in a tangible medium of expression at 3:31 PM. Keep this for posterity.Friday, October 03, 2003
Cubs
As for the Sox fans, you had your chance three years ago. Quit whining.
What do you reckon?
Well, apparently Arnold Schwarzenegger is in trouble for saying that he admired Adolf Hitler. This was allegedly said 25 years ago, as well. Now, we are finding out that Arnold may have been misquoted, and he actually said he DIDN'T admire Adolf.
Fixed in a tangible medium of expression at 3:29 PM. Keep this for posterity.Adolf Hitler
"I admired Hitler, for instance, because he came from being a little man with almost no formal education up to power. And I admire him for being such a good public speaker and for what he did with it." The issue most people are taking is the "what he did with it" part. (The actual quote now may have really been, "but not what he did with it.) Anyhow, this makes for an interesting debate. Is it okay to admire Hitler for his ability to gain power while coming from an extremely pedestrian background?
Let me first say that Adolf Hitler was definitely one of the worst human beings ever, in terms of ideology and actions. He was a bad, bad, bad man. Usually, any remote praising of Hitler will get you into deep trouble - much like the trouble Arnold is finding himself today.
But, as a student of history, I was always fascinated by how Hitler could rise to power. He didn't get there by dumb luck. He did it with his fiery orations, scheming and cold calculations. The environment in Germany at the time was right for a person like Hitler. The people were looking for somebody like him, and as it turned out he became a ruthless and numbingly evil dictator. Notwithstanding that, he really was, in essence, a rags-to-riches sort of story. And you can't fault Schwarzenegger, who undoubtedly grew up in a Hitler-influenced environment, for knowing how he came to power. Of course, the world would have been a better place without him.
What do you reckon?
According to MSN, the best drive-thru service belongs to Chick-fil-A, while McDonald's slipped way down into twelfth. Though, much to my shock, Wendy's was 17th! I still remember the absolute efficiency of the Wendy's on Wayne Ave in Dayton. We would drive there at midnight on a Wednesday, and they would have our food in no time. No wait whatsoever. I am amazed at how fast they are, especially considering some of the dumbasses working at other drive-thrus. To wit, there is a McDonald's on Fullerton and Central Ave here in Chicago, that is slow and all hell. Since I drive down Fullerton almost every day to go to work, I am familar with the restaurants. This McDonald's was so slow, and all I was ordering was a Coke. Took so long, I was late to work. On the other hand, at Grand and Des Plaines River Road (not to be confused with nearby River Road), there is another McDonald's that is super speedy. Now they have their act together. Lately, I have abandoned McDonald's though, because I find it hard to resist the temptation of some sort of McMuffin. Much to my good fortune, a Dunkin Donuts recently opened directly on the way to work, so I often fill up there with a hot chocolate. They are pretty fast, too, so it rarely causes me to be late to work.
Fixed in a tangible medium of expression at 2:59 PM. Keep this for posterity.Wednesday, October 01, 2003
Top Fast Food Chains
What do you reckon?
In regards to this particular story, I sort of feel that while juries ought to consider other things than purely guilt or innocence - and I am certain that they often do - I think it is wrong of a government official to bring God into the discussion. In essence, he is establishing religion. Even if he bought these books with his own money. Some people!
Fixed in a tangible medium of expression at 2:42 PM. Keep this for posterity.Exciting news item of the day
Colo. Official: Jurors Answerable to God
GOLDEN, Colo. - A county treasurer is handing out booklets to potential jurors saying they are answerable "only to God almighty" and not to the law when it comes to deliberations.
Jefferson County Treasurer Mark Paschall, a former state lawmaker known for his anti-abortion and pro-gun views, said the booklets are "my personal gift to the people." He said the booklets, many stamped with his name and elected title, were bought with $500 to $600 of his money and that of two political allies who work in the treasurer's office.
The 61-page booklets promote "jury nullification," a concept promoted by conservative groups that say juries have the right to not only decide guilt or innocence, but also whether laws are just and adhere to God's law.
"You are above the law!" the booklet says. "As a juror in a trial setting, when it comes to your individual vote of innocent or guilty, you truly are answerable only to God almighty."
Said Paschall: "I want people to understand the form of government that we have and the rights and freedoms that went before. If it raises eyebrows, I think it perhaps ends up waking people up."
Some questioned whether Paschall has a right to distribute the material at a government office, and County Attorney Bill Tuthill said he was looking into the issue.
"I don't think it is appropriate to pass these out in the treasurer's office in the county building," County Commissioner Pat Holloway said.
Added Cal Johnston, chairman of the Jefferson County Democratic Party: "What is the county treasurer doing handing out books like that?"
"He is using his office as a pulpit for his conservative opinions," Johnston said.
During last year's campaign, Paschall vowed to speak out on Second Amendment issues.
"I have said from the very beginning I was not going to be like any other treasurer," he said. "I'm a passionate man, and I'm willing to stand up for the things I believe in."
While the conservative concept is relatively new, juries have always in effect practiced nullification from time to time. Juries refused to convict people who harbored runaway slaves before the Civil War, sold alcohol during Prohibition or resisted the draft during the Vietnam War.
