Monday
11/22/03
Queer Uniters And Straight Dividers
There are plenty of things in life that seem to be endlessly entertaining. Many of these are, of course, as inexplicable as they are masochistic. My love for a bowl of chili that’s just a little hotter than I can actually stand it, for instance. Or, my addiction to political news coverage. Whichever.
On occasion, though, I find that I have no choice but to take a break or risk actually hurting myself. After all, in rather the same way you can’t argue with your ass when you’ve overdone the Endorphin Rush, you can’t argue with that cranky guy in your head who says you’ve had enough of hating Bush and watching people in England hate him as well. (Although I did rather enjoy the British Bush statue as it toppled while clutching a suspiciously phallic missile.) In short though, enough of both for a while.
So, there must be something out there that we can all agree on, something goofy enough to unite both sides of the Atlantic in a group hug warm enough to embarrass even the most steadfast peacenik. And sure enough, I found that common ground: Britons seem to enjoy queers who have an eye for straight guys.
Yes, the Fab Five are brightening up the Briton's dreary little island and taking them by storm just as they did us last Summer. Why? Well, summing up the phenomenon rather nicely I thought, this story’s author Robert Shrimsley notes that, "This remains a makeover show, and every fibre of my being told me to hate it. But it is absolutely irresistible." And irresistible it is, as well as universally appealing, apparently. Appealing enough that British TV has bought the rights to the format and will be unleashing their own Fab Five on unsuspecting slobby straight British men next year.
You see, I just knew I could find an American export of which we can all be truly proud. And, since the assertion from that guy in the White House that he is "a uniter, not a divider" has been proven so ridiculously wrong, now at least we have five real uniters to follow. Kyan, Ted, Carson, Jai, and Thom… u go boys! Unite away, ‘cause I’m following.
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Queer Uniters And Straight Dividers
There are plenty of things in life that seem to be endlessly entertaining. Many of these are, of course, as inexplicable as they are masochistic. My love for a bowl of chili that’s just a little hotter than I can actually stand it, for instance. Or, my addiction to political news coverage. Whichever.
On occasion, though, I find that I have no choice but to take a break or risk actually hurting myself. After all, in rather the same way you can’t argue with your ass when you’ve overdone the Endorphin Rush, you can’t argue with that cranky guy in your head who says you’ve had enough of hating Bush and watching people in England hate him as well. (Although I did rather enjoy the British Bush statue as it toppled while clutching a suspiciously phallic missile.) In short though, enough of both for a while.
So, there must be something out there that we can all agree on, something goofy enough to unite both sides of the Atlantic in a group hug warm enough to embarrass even the most steadfast peacenik. And sure enough, I found that common ground: Britons seem to enjoy queers who have an eye for straight guys.
Yes, the Fab Five are brightening up the Briton's dreary little island and taking them by storm just as they did us last Summer. Why? Well, summing up the phenomenon rather nicely I thought, this story’s author Robert Shrimsley notes that, "This remains a makeover show, and every fibre of my being told me to hate it. But it is absolutely irresistible." And irresistible it is, as well as universally appealing, apparently. Appealing enough that British TV has bought the rights to the format and will be unleashing their own Fab Five on unsuspecting slobby straight British men next year.
You see, I just knew I could find an American export of which we can all be truly proud. And, since the assertion from that guy in the White House that he is "a uniter, not a divider" has been proven so ridiculously wrong, now at least we have five real uniters to follow. Kyan, Ted, Carson, Jai, and Thom… u go boys! Unite away, ‘cause I’m following.
11/20/03
Wrapping Up The Week
Well, it’s the end of the week and once again I’ve gotten that odd sensation rather like when you’re out at the store and you realize you have no idea where your car keys have gone. At the moment, though, it yet again seems to be time, rather than car keys, that have slipped my grasp… and I’m pretty sure all that lost time isn’t going to show up in my jacket pocket as my keys always do.
In any case, there are always far more odd things going on in the world than there is time to do them all justice, so here we go with a quick and dirty round up of this weeks best stuff. Have fun.
First, it seems that everyone’s favorite lothario turned-would-be-assassin wants not just visits home, but unattended visits home. Jeez, I had no idea they were letting Hinckley out at all in the first place. Don’t they lock you in a tiny box forever for shooting at a president? I bet James Brady has an opinion about that.
Anyway, for sheer irony there’s nothing better than the Japanese discovering a whole new species of whale. Do you suppose the Japanese are thinking "New species of whale? They aren’t even protected yet! Yippee!" as they make a dash for the boats? No, I suppose not.
But for sheer yuck factor, it seems that British surgeons are debating whether or not face transplants are a good idea. I personally don’t really see what the debate could be about; everyone should just say "eeeeeww", followed by a resounding "NO". (And add an extra "ick" for good measure.)
Anyhow, rather like a little kid who can’t keep from biting his nails, I can’t stay away from the mid-east, so I was tickled by Bush’s admonition this week of "Arab nations" who "should end incitement in their own media…". True, there are few things as troubling as a free press, so I guess it’s a good thing that this administration has long since cowed our own press into submission.
And finally, I hate ending all the fun on a sad note, but it seems that Monica’s love life has been hurt by her past. Now I know it’s tempting to say: "Love life in bad shape? Really. Hmm. What a huge surprise", but gosh darn it, I think it’s a real shame when a spunky youngster is down and out on her knees and nobody will give her a second chance.
Or something like that. And all this time I thought I’d never get the chance to use the word "spunky". Anyway, have yourself a fine weekend!
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Wrapping Up The Week
Well, it’s the end of the week and once again I’ve gotten that odd sensation rather like when you’re out at the store and you realize you have no idea where your car keys have gone. At the moment, though, it yet again seems to be time, rather than car keys, that have slipped my grasp… and I’m pretty sure all that lost time isn’t going to show up in my jacket pocket as my keys always do.
In any case, there are always far more odd things going on in the world than there is time to do them all justice, so here we go with a quick and dirty round up of this weeks best stuff. Have fun.
First, it seems that everyone’s favorite lothario turned-would-be-assassin wants not just visits home, but unattended visits home. Jeez, I had no idea they were letting Hinckley out at all in the first place. Don’t they lock you in a tiny box forever for shooting at a president? I bet James Brady has an opinion about that.
Anyway, for sheer irony there’s nothing better than the Japanese discovering a whole new species of whale. Do you suppose the Japanese are thinking "New species of whale? They aren’t even protected yet! Yippee!" as they make a dash for the boats? No, I suppose not.
But for sheer yuck factor, it seems that British surgeons are debating whether or not face transplants are a good idea. I personally don’t really see what the debate could be about; everyone should just say "eeeeeww", followed by a resounding "NO". (And add an extra "ick" for good measure.)
Anyhow, rather like a little kid who can’t keep from biting his nails, I can’t stay away from the mid-east, so I was tickled by Bush’s admonition this week of "Arab nations" who "should end incitement in their own media…". True, there are few things as troubling as a free press, so I guess it’s a good thing that this administration has long since cowed our own press into submission.
And finally, I hate ending all the fun on a sad note, but it seems that Monica’s love life has been hurt by her past. Now I know it’s tempting to say: "Love life in bad shape? Really. Hmm. What a huge surprise", but gosh darn it, I think it’s a real shame when a spunky youngster is down and out on her knees and nobody will give her a second chance.
Or something like that. And all this time I thought I’d never get the chance to use the word "spunky". Anyway, have yourself a fine weekend!
11/18/03
Maybe Ignorance Isn't Bliss
I realize that using the conceit that I’m perpetually in the dark about things as an opener is getting old, yet it remains true. Take, for instance, the fact that I was the last to find out that Rosie O’Donnell is gay. Really, no kidding. And worse yet, having just read those words to myself out loud, the notion of a gay Rosie is becoming less pleasant by the second. Yikes.
But anyway, there really doesn’t seem to be any end to the things it hadn’t occurred to me to wonder about, many of them actually important. This story was sent to me this morning and woke me to something that I think we all know but don’t want to think about; namely that the White House is doing its very best to ignore the terrible price our troops are paying in Iraq.
When I think back to the autumn of 2001 it seemed we were awash in funerals and memorial services of every kind. Some of the WTC victim’s funerals were even televised, and by the end of the month there was literally a call for volunteers to attend the services that the fire and police personnel had become too exhausted to attend. Each day the civilians killed were mourned as innocent victims, and the cops and firemen were lauded as fallen heroes. And each day, their sacrifice seemed to strengthen our resolve.
Yet today, two years on, we find ourselves in a sorry situation in Iraq which can only remain politically viable as long as our government steadfastly ignores the same sort of heroes we so recently and so publicly honored.
In short, now that we find ourselves in a bed of our own making, we can’t be allowed to see the body bags. And, as always, I’m left with far more questions than I started out with… just who is bearing the brunt of burying the dead? The families? The military? Where is the press in all this? Is there no-one in the administation who wishes to acknowledge the price they and their families have paid? Has that man in the White House attended even a single funeral?
Bush likes to publicly thank “our brave troops” every chance he gets, but apparently that only counts if you’re still alive. Bushchenyrumsfeld have certainly learned well the most important lesson that Vietnam had to teach us. And you might suppose that lesson is to avoid unnecessary wars from which there is no escape, but of course we know they didn’t learn that one. No, the most important lesson is simply keeping the TV cameras away from Dover AFB. (Note the lag between the production and air dates of this story... and then nothing since.)
Oh yeah, and I’m not even going to start on how oblivious the White House is to the price the wounded have paid. Have you seen even as much as a snapshot of a wounded soldier, much less even know where they are? I didn’t think so.
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Maybe Ignorance Isn't Bliss
I realize that using the conceit that I’m perpetually in the dark about things as an opener is getting old, yet it remains true. Take, for instance, the fact that I was the last to find out that Rosie O’Donnell is gay. Really, no kidding. And worse yet, having just read those words to myself out loud, the notion of a gay Rosie is becoming less pleasant by the second. Yikes.
But anyway, there really doesn’t seem to be any end to the things it hadn’t occurred to me to wonder about, many of them actually important. This story was sent to me this morning and woke me to something that I think we all know but don’t want to think about; namely that the White House is doing its very best to ignore the terrible price our troops are paying in Iraq.
When I think back to the autumn of 2001 it seemed we were awash in funerals and memorial services of every kind. Some of the WTC victim’s funerals were even televised, and by the end of the month there was literally a call for volunteers to attend the services that the fire and police personnel had become too exhausted to attend. Each day the civilians killed were mourned as innocent victims, and the cops and firemen were lauded as fallen heroes. And each day, their sacrifice seemed to strengthen our resolve.
Yet today, two years on, we find ourselves in a sorry situation in Iraq which can only remain politically viable as long as our government steadfastly ignores the same sort of heroes we so recently and so publicly honored.
In short, now that we find ourselves in a bed of our own making, we can’t be allowed to see the body bags. And, as always, I’m left with far more questions than I started out with… just who is bearing the brunt of burying the dead? The families? The military? Where is the press in all this? Is there no-one in the administation who wishes to acknowledge the price they and their families have paid? Has that man in the White House attended even a single funeral?
Bush likes to publicly thank “our brave troops” every chance he gets, but apparently that only counts if you’re still alive. Bushchenyrumsfeld have certainly learned well the most important lesson that Vietnam had to teach us. And you might suppose that lesson is to avoid unnecessary wars from which there is no escape, but of course we know they didn’t learn that one. No, the most important lesson is simply keeping the TV cameras away from Dover AFB. (Note the lag between the production and air dates of this story... and then nothing since.)
Oh yeah, and I’m not even going to start on how oblivious the White House is to the price the wounded have paid. Have you seen even as much as a snapshot of a wounded soldier, much less even know where they are? I didn’t think so.
Saturday
11/05/03
All Hail Mark!
There are times when it can be a lot of fun getting in on the ground floor. Well, at least I’m assuming that’s the case, having never done so myself… but picture the guy who was standing around on March 13, 1986 and said to himself, "Hey, this here Microsoft thing is going public. And $21.00 a share seems fair… I think I’ll buy myself a few grand worth of that." That guy now has his own island, but only because his yacht is too big to put anywhere else.
So anyway, I’m finally onto a little something here myself, and I’m feeling generous, so here it is so you can get in with me: Twenty years from now when we live in a dark dystopia run by one giant, malevolent corporation ( come on, all the SCI FI movies say it’s so) it will all have been started by a New Rochelle high school kid named Mark Douglas.
I kid you not. Last week I opened up to the first page of the lifestyle section in my local Gannett rag, the Journal News, and found a story about some junior achievers entitled Kids Can Make Money Like Magic. In it, a group of students had attended a lecture on honing one’s entrepreneurial skills, about which the young Mr. Douglas had this to say:
"I want to run my own business," he said. "I want to compete against somebody and then crush them. I want to show the power of my mind and get money."
Heck, if that’s not the personification of the American Dream realized in all its unfettered free market glory, I don’t know what is. In fact, the notion of Mark all grown up in a natty black suit with a shadowy army of corporate henchmen at his disposal nearly brought a tear to my eye.
But, as is so with many dreams, this one had a little wrinkle to it that may threaten the whole enterprise. As I read on, it turns out that the lecture was given at a public library by (again, I kid you not) a self-employed, balloon-animal-making magician. Oh the irony. Worse, it seems that lecturer Terry Parrett even ended the presentation by making balloon animals, swords and "goofy hats". What sort of show of malevolence was that? There he was, the hypocrite, in the end just following his own selfish muse by delighting youngsters with flights of balloon making fancy.
I can only pray that Mark rises above that sort of selfless tomfoolery and, as so few select, white male Americans have, reach his full potential. A potential as an economic and political powerhouse, flexing his newfound muscles just as did the beatific plutocrats from whose spirits he must have risen! All hail Mark! Huzzah!
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All Hail Mark!
There are times when it can be a lot of fun getting in on the ground floor. Well, at least I’m assuming that’s the case, having never done so myself… but picture the guy who was standing around on March 13, 1986 and said to himself, "Hey, this here Microsoft thing is going public. And $21.00 a share seems fair… I think I’ll buy myself a few grand worth of that." That guy now has his own island, but only because his yacht is too big to put anywhere else.
So anyway, I’m finally onto a little something here myself, and I’m feeling generous, so here it is so you can get in with me: Twenty years from now when we live in a dark dystopia run by one giant, malevolent corporation ( come on, all the SCI FI movies say it’s so) it will all have been started by a New Rochelle high school kid named Mark Douglas.
I kid you not. Last week I opened up to the first page of the lifestyle section in my local Gannett rag, the Journal News, and found a story about some junior achievers entitled Kids Can Make Money Like Magic. In it, a group of students had attended a lecture on honing one’s entrepreneurial skills, about which the young Mr. Douglas had this to say:
"I want to run my own business," he said. "I want to compete against somebody and then crush them. I want to show the power of my mind and get money."
Heck, if that’s not the personification of the American Dream realized in all its unfettered free market glory, I don’t know what is. In fact, the notion of Mark all grown up in a natty black suit with a shadowy army of corporate henchmen at his disposal nearly brought a tear to my eye.
But, as is so with many dreams, this one had a little wrinkle to it that may threaten the whole enterprise. As I read on, it turns out that the lecture was given at a public library by (again, I kid you not) a self-employed, balloon-animal-making magician. Oh the irony. Worse, it seems that lecturer Terry Parrett even ended the presentation by making balloon animals, swords and "goofy hats". What sort of show of malevolence was that? There he was, the hypocrite, in the end just following his own selfish muse by delighting youngsters with flights of balloon making fancy.
I can only pray that Mark rises above that sort of selfless tomfoolery and, as so few select, white male Americans have, reach his full potential. A potential as an economic and political powerhouse, flexing his newfound muscles just as did the beatific plutocrats from whose spirits he must have risen! All hail Mark! Huzzah!
Thursday
11/03/03
Kids And Laws
Very often, I find that I’m the last to find out about things. I was, for instance, mortified after showing up to a Halloween party as J. Lo with an extra Ben Aflek head stuck to my neck (a la Ray Milland and Rosie Greer) only to be told that they’ve broken up. Damn.
It does also seem, however, that I’m the last one to find out that enforceable anti-bullying laws have not only long been in place in schools, but are very common. Who knew? In general, the notion of trying modify society by legislating away bad behavior seems at least futile, if not actually self-defeating. It seems to me, after all, that it would be counterproductive to quash all bullying, even if you could, simply because you’d be leaving kids entirely unprepared to deal with bullying that goes on later in life.
The first analogy that comes to mind involves the Japanese, who, as with so many other things, are fanatical about dust, germs, and cleanliness in general, especially with their infants. Sounds sensible enough, but guess which nation has far and away the highest rate of childhood asthma and related conditions… Seems pretty clear that your body needs to learn about dust and germs before it gets into a situation it can’t handle.
…Which brings to mind something I hadn’t thought about in a very long time: It was around fifth grade or so when some kid decided I was going to be his target to bully. This went on a little here and there for a couple of weeks until I found myself outside with him. Even though I was pretty scared and didn’t really know what to do, we swung at each other a little bit until I popped him in the face. It was really pretty light, I think, but his look of shock and surprise was priceless. Anyway, he never came near me again, so it turned out to be textbook ‘stand up to the bully and he’ll leave you alone.’ And, most importantly, in the end the both of us learned a much more valuable lesson about people and life than if I had just run home to mommy and had her sue his parents.
Another reason that this sort of legislative wishful thinking is counterproductive is that, as with too many things in life, it can be turned upside-down and abused by those that the laws are designed to stop. Although I have no idea how common such abuses are, I do know of one fine person that’s been named in a suit brought against a school district by the disturbed parents of a disturbed bully for no other reason than they are, well, disturbed.
But now is when you stop and say, "Hang on a minute, sometimes it is necessary to legislate social change. Look at the Civil Rights Act, created a century after blacks were emancipated, and only then because it was painfully clear that white folks would have to be legally required to behave themselves. How about that, huh?" And my reply to that is: "Aw jeez, I dunno. Go hug your kids."
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Kids And Laws
Very often, I find that I’m the last to find out about things. I was, for instance, mortified after showing up to a Halloween party as J. Lo with an extra Ben Aflek head stuck to my neck (a la Ray Milland and Rosie Greer) only to be told that they’ve broken up. Damn.
It does also seem, however, that I’m the last one to find out that enforceable anti-bullying laws have not only long been in place in schools, but are very common. Who knew? In general, the notion of trying modify society by legislating away bad behavior seems at least futile, if not actually self-defeating. It seems to me, after all, that it would be counterproductive to quash all bullying, even if you could, simply because you’d be leaving kids entirely unprepared to deal with bullying that goes on later in life.
The first analogy that comes to mind involves the Japanese, who, as with so many other things, are fanatical about dust, germs, and cleanliness in general, especially with their infants. Sounds sensible enough, but guess which nation has far and away the highest rate of childhood asthma and related conditions… Seems pretty clear that your body needs to learn about dust and germs before it gets into a situation it can’t handle.
…Which brings to mind something I hadn’t thought about in a very long time: It was around fifth grade or so when some kid decided I was going to be his target to bully. This went on a little here and there for a couple of weeks until I found myself outside with him. Even though I was pretty scared and didn’t really know what to do, we swung at each other a little bit until I popped him in the face. It was really pretty light, I think, but his look of shock and surprise was priceless. Anyway, he never came near me again, so it turned out to be textbook ‘stand up to the bully and he’ll leave you alone.’ And, most importantly, in the end the both of us learned a much more valuable lesson about people and life than if I had just run home to mommy and had her sue his parents.
Another reason that this sort of legislative wishful thinking is counterproductive is that, as with too many things in life, it can be turned upside-down and abused by those that the laws are designed to stop. Although I have no idea how common such abuses are, I do know of one fine person that’s been named in a suit brought against a school district by the disturbed parents of a disturbed bully for no other reason than they are, well, disturbed.
But now is when you stop and say, "Hang on a minute, sometimes it is necessary to legislate social change. Look at the Civil Rights Act, created a century after blacks were emancipated, and only then because it was painfully clear that white folks would have to be legally required to behave themselves. How about that, huh?" And my reply to that is: "Aw jeez, I dunno. Go hug your kids."
Monday
10/28/03
Live and Learn. Sometimes.
Not very long ago on a crisp autumn afternoon, there stood a red plastic Solo cup of milk on the counter. It was a fine cup of milk. Cold and freshly poured, it accompanied a fine looking specimen of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. All was right with the world. Little did we realize that it could all go so horribly wrong so quickly.
That’s when the elbow appeared, as if out of nowhere. Seemingly in slow motion, the elbow grazed the surface of the counter, relentlessly approaching the helpless cup. It might as well have been a baby carriage bouncing silently down the Odessa steps. A mini estuary of milk now covered the counter and threatened the floor. The six-year-old owner of the elbow looked mildly surprised. The thirty-eight-year-old maker of the now soggy sandwich looked irked.
Anyway, when we were done with the usual post-spill "spilling is no big deal, but here are the paper towels so you can help me clean up" conversation, I got to thinking about how we teach our kids about personal responsibility and, well, cleaning our own messes. Seems to me that we generally do a fine job. By kindergarten most kids are savvy to the whole responsibility thing and understand that it’s required for them to at least help address whatever the problem may be.
But then, something so often seems to go astray. Somewhere along the line that well-meaning tousle-haired youth grows into Ken Lay and Jeffery Skilling. Technically breakers of laws? Possibly not, but wrongdoers and evaders of responsibility? Absolutely. I suppose on that level, their transformation can be explained away with the whole timeless duality of man thing. The constant internal struggle in most of us between idealism and cold pragmatism. Or something like that.
I wonder though, does the same reasoning apply to culture and our society at large? I look at the party of Lincoln and I see policy that is generally geared toward self-reliance and personal responsibility. Welfare is bad because it promotes an ongoing culture of laziness and precludes people from having to be self-reliant. Perhaps so.
Another item on the republican’s wish list is tort reform and caps for all kinds of damage settlements. High, freewheeling settlements are bad for business, and the lure of such settlements discourages personal responsibility. Maybe so.
But I find it entirely puzzling that, at the end of the day, when the lights are low and it’s very quiet, the neoconservative's personal monster comes out from under the bed to terrorize them like so many four-year-olds. And that bogeyman is the specter of taking responsibility for ourselves as a nation. In short, it seems that all the basic rules we learn as children go out the window when we find ourselves on the world stage.
It begins with the simple things, such as kissing the Kyoto protocol goodbye because of our childish refusal to believe in global warming and that we are far and away the biggest contributors to the problem in the first place. In fact, one of my favorite moments with Ari Fleischer was his ‘blessed way of life’ press conference on May 7 of 2001.
Like Bush and Fleischer, I too am a big fan of America, but refusing to take long term environmental responsibility for the fact we are a nation with just 7 percent of the world’s population who consumes more than a third of its resources is, well, childishly irresponsible.
And of course this childish evasion of culpability on the world stage is again made all too clear by the consequences of our shortsighted, ham-fisted attempts at manipulating and pacifying the Middle East over the last fifty years or so. Our instillation of the Shah ensured that Iran would hate us forever, and then we thought it was a great idea to arm the Taliban crazies in Afghanistan because they were fighting the Soviets, but then we thought it would be an equally great idea to arm Saddam because he was fighting our latest self-created enemy, Iran. And the list goes on. And yet, Ann Coulter calls those who wonder about the role America plays in it’s own fate "traitors."
When we were just about done cleaning up the last of the milk, my older son came into the kitchen, poured himself some juice, gulped it down, and tossed the cup in the sink. He then went on his way, all without spilling a drop. Kids really do learn from experience. Hell, even I learned not to stick my fingers in electrical outlets. So why the hell can’t neoconservatives do the same?
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Live and Learn. Sometimes.
Not very long ago on a crisp autumn afternoon, there stood a red plastic Solo cup of milk on the counter. It was a fine cup of milk. Cold and freshly poured, it accompanied a fine looking specimen of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. All was right with the world. Little did we realize that it could all go so horribly wrong so quickly.
That’s when the elbow appeared, as if out of nowhere. Seemingly in slow motion, the elbow grazed the surface of the counter, relentlessly approaching the helpless cup. It might as well have been a baby carriage bouncing silently down the Odessa steps. A mini estuary of milk now covered the counter and threatened the floor. The six-year-old owner of the elbow looked mildly surprised. The thirty-eight-year-old maker of the now soggy sandwich looked irked.
Anyway, when we were done with the usual post-spill "spilling is no big deal, but here are the paper towels so you can help me clean up" conversation, I got to thinking about how we teach our kids about personal responsibility and, well, cleaning our own messes. Seems to me that we generally do a fine job. By kindergarten most kids are savvy to the whole responsibility thing and understand that it’s required for them to at least help address whatever the problem may be.
But then, something so often seems to go astray. Somewhere along the line that well-meaning tousle-haired youth grows into Ken Lay and Jeffery Skilling. Technically breakers of laws? Possibly not, but wrongdoers and evaders of responsibility? Absolutely. I suppose on that level, their transformation can be explained away with the whole timeless duality of man thing. The constant internal struggle in most of us between idealism and cold pragmatism. Or something like that.
I wonder though, does the same reasoning apply to culture and our society at large? I look at the party of Lincoln and I see policy that is generally geared toward self-reliance and personal responsibility. Welfare is bad because it promotes an ongoing culture of laziness and precludes people from having to be self-reliant. Perhaps so.
Another item on the republican’s wish list is tort reform and caps for all kinds of damage settlements. High, freewheeling settlements are bad for business, and the lure of such settlements discourages personal responsibility. Maybe so.
But I find it entirely puzzling that, at the end of the day, when the lights are low and it’s very quiet, the neoconservative's personal monster comes out from under the bed to terrorize them like so many four-year-olds. And that bogeyman is the specter of taking responsibility for ourselves as a nation. In short, it seems that all the basic rules we learn as children go out the window when we find ourselves on the world stage.
It begins with the simple things, such as kissing the Kyoto protocol goodbye because of our childish refusal to believe in global warming and that we are far and away the biggest contributors to the problem in the first place. In fact, one of my favorite moments with Ari Fleischer was his ‘blessed way of life’ press conference on May 7 of 2001.
Like Bush and Fleischer, I too am a big fan of America, but refusing to take long term environmental responsibility for the fact we are a nation with just 7 percent of the world’s population who consumes more than a third of its resources is, well, childishly irresponsible.
And of course this childish evasion of culpability on the world stage is again made all too clear by the consequences of our shortsighted, ham-fisted attempts at manipulating and pacifying the Middle East over the last fifty years or so. Our instillation of the Shah ensured that Iran would hate us forever, and then we thought it was a great idea to arm the Taliban crazies in Afghanistan because they were fighting the Soviets, but then we thought it would be an equally great idea to arm Saddam because he was fighting our latest self-created enemy, Iran. And the list goes on. And yet, Ann Coulter calls those who wonder about the role America plays in it’s own fate "traitors."
When we were just about done cleaning up the last of the milk, my older son came into the kitchen, poured himself some juice, gulped it down, and tossed the cup in the sink. He then went on his way, all without spilling a drop. Kids really do learn from experience. Hell, even I learned not to stick my fingers in electrical outlets. So why the hell can’t neoconservatives do the same?
Friday
10/24/03
If LaCrosse Is Wrong, I Don't Want To Be Right
When thinking about so-called political correctness, I guess I fall somewhere in the middle of the road. I do, after all, respect the right of different peoples to get on with their lives without getting hassled by professional jerks like Cal Thomas. On the other hand, there is the side of me that can barely muster a shrug and a "whatever" when I hear that a group of Hindu plaintiffs has been deeply disturbed by McDonald’s use of beef products in their very yummy fries. (Biased towards yummy fries? You bet.)
That said, I must say that at times I am still amazed by the ridiculous lengths to which someone will go to avoid controversy and remain, well, correct. Case in point: the fine folks at GM have decided to pull the LaCrosse name off the Buick they’re going to sell in Canada because, apparently, LaCrosse is slang for masturbation among French speaking teens in Quebec. LaCrosse. Masturbation. Hmm. You know what I think? "So F*%=ing what?"
You’ve got to be kidding me. GM, corporate behemoth and producer of mediocre cars is concerned that a microscopic subset of the Canadian population may snicker as one of their automotive masterpieces sputters past? What exactly do you suppose the buying power is among the combined teen Francophones in a small city that does it’s very best to pretend it’s not even in Canada in the first place?
Even better, why not go the other way and just rename the car something even cooler? "Ladies and Gentlemen, we are proud to introduce the 2004 Buick ‘Claque de Singe!’" Or, the 2004 Buick Bobine de Poulet. The possibilities are endless.
It is getting late, so I’m not even going to start on what they do when anyone in Quebec joins a high school lacrosse team or meets someone from La Crosse Wisconsin. So, good night to all, and au revoir, mon petit individu gratifier.
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If LaCrosse Is Wrong, I Don't Want To Be Right
When thinking about so-called political correctness, I guess I fall somewhere in the middle of the road. I do, after all, respect the right of different peoples to get on with their lives without getting hassled by professional jerks like Cal Thomas. On the other hand, there is the side of me that can barely muster a shrug and a "whatever" when I hear that a group of Hindu plaintiffs has been deeply disturbed by McDonald’s use of beef products in their very yummy fries. (Biased towards yummy fries? You bet.)
That said, I must say that at times I am still amazed by the ridiculous lengths to which someone will go to avoid controversy and remain, well, correct. Case in point: the fine folks at GM have decided to pull the LaCrosse name off the Buick they’re going to sell in Canada because, apparently, LaCrosse is slang for masturbation among French speaking teens in Quebec. LaCrosse. Masturbation. Hmm. You know what I think? "So F*%=ing what?"
You’ve got to be kidding me. GM, corporate behemoth and producer of mediocre cars is concerned that a microscopic subset of the Canadian population may snicker as one of their automotive masterpieces sputters past? What exactly do you suppose the buying power is among the combined teen Francophones in a small city that does it’s very best to pretend it’s not even in Canada in the first place?
Even better, why not go the other way and just rename the car something even cooler? "Ladies and Gentlemen, we are proud to introduce the 2004 Buick ‘Claque de Singe!’" Or, the 2004 Buick Bobine de Poulet. The possibilities are endless.
It is getting late, so I’m not even going to start on what they do when anyone in Quebec joins a high school lacrosse team or meets someone from La Crosse Wisconsin. So, good night to all, and au revoir, mon petit individu gratifier.
