i am cynic because of the career choice, or did i choose my career because i`m a cynic? either way i`ve been trying to choke back the bile that has been rising since i saw the Anheuser-Busch commercial on Sunday. i have nothing against the soldiers that are serving in Iraq.
what i do have a problem with is a company so morally bankrupt they would commission and run and ad `thanking` them. that ad wasn`t about thanking the soldiers, if you really wanted to thank them you`d take the money spent on producing and running that ad and send it to the people on the front lines in lieu of the missing combat pay. if you really wanted to thank them you`d use your lobbyist to pressure congress into bringing them home now or making sure they`re properly equipped and paid and have benefits when they return home.
and for the millions of people that thought that was the best ad of the Superbowl; that`s your fucking guilt talking. you`re guilty because you believed the lie in the first place and you`re guilty because you didn`t have the guts to say it was wrong and try to put a stop to it and you`re fucking guilty because when they come home like the vets of the last two wars and they`re sick, you don`t want to see them or have to foot the bill for their care.
spare me the fucking greed and guilt. the ad was a trite, nasty attempt by a company and nation to feel better about the morass of ineptitude, underhandedness and moral bankruptcy that the war in Iraq and this administration are prime examples of.
i watched the Superbowl last night, not because the game interested me so much; i come from a country where rugby is played, which is a much more intense game; but this is supposed to be the mecca of television advertising.
although i`m not a big fan of the sport, i live in a town with a team; granted it had one of the worst records this season; and like i`ve said before reading Hunter S. Thompson has given me a greater appreciation for what`s going on and i don`t live in a hole, so i know the teams that played and some of the background, so i watched last night.
an interesting aside, although the sport seems kind of silly in comparison to rugby, i am a fan of movies about it. good, bad or indifferent, if there`s been a football movie, i`ve seen it; Rudy, Knute Rockne, Varsity Blues, North Dallas 440, Any Given Sunday; and i`m probably going to watch Friday Night Lights and the Longest Yard remake as well. there is no explanation for it, i`m addicted to them.
i was really hoping the Eagles would win last night so i wouldn`t have to hear everyone blather on about the Patriots dynasty and how Tom Brady played so well even though his grandmother died. what is it about US sports and this whole crock of shit about players and their family? they are overpaid entertainers, if Tom Brady was so concerned about his family and his dead grandmother he would have been with them. it may seem harsh, but it`s the truth; any job in the world you get bereavement time, he`s been to the Superbowl before. which is more important; his family or the game? spare me the maudlin bullshit, he chose to stay and play and shouldn`t be pitied or credited for doing so.
while i`m in full on rant mode; what a fucking, crappy half time show. Paul McCartney should stay home and enjoy his fucking money. the half time show was a snoozefest, as were the ads. there were two ads that stuck out during that whole `safe`, stale, Superbowl and they were the Ameritrade ads and now they have to apologise for the cat ad. what a crock of fucking shit. i don`t know why i`m surprised; the whole tone of the Superbowl was one of acquiescence to the people who think they know what`s best for the rest of us. heaven forbid that it looks like a cat was harmed; the point of the ad was that you shouldn`t be quick to judge what you see.
and now a segue into the other portion of the title; the taxes. we finally received our last document for us to do our taxes so i thought i`d take a stab at it on Saturday night using the online version of TurboTax; i`ve had more fun at the dentist; three hours later and owing the IRS money, i stopped. on Sunday i resumed the fight and realised that in order for us to file jointly i would have declare the pittance that i made in Jamaica last year on our taxes; another three hours later i was done with a tiny sum that will allow us to pay for the next set of USCIS paperwork and put away a little; if i did everything correctly. i`m hoping to hook up with CSG at some point today to have her double check my entries and then file. as with all other bureaucracies, the idea is to make filling out the paperwork by mere mortals as difficult as possible. i`m a fairly intelligent man, i can follow instructions and preparing this return was one of the most convoluted things i`ve ever done and having dealt with the USCIS, that`s saying a lot.
the boychick is unwell today, so i got an opportunity to work from home. god i`ve missed it. no silly questions, no ringing phones and best of all, the comforts of home.
there seems to be some sort of infection going around the school system in middle TN, three of the boychick`s classmates and at least two teachers from his school are out sick and at least one set of schools in Nashville is closed.
we gave the boychick some children`s motrin last night because he was running a fever but other than that we`re trying to avoid pumping him full of medication so his body can at least build some kind of resistance.
every time i see one of these disinfectant ads, two thought cross my mind, Stephen King`s superflu from The Stand and George Carlin talking about being tempered in raw shit growing up, and the thought scares me. i was one of those children that lived by the five second rule, ate dirt at one point or another, raced boats in the gutters and i`ve grown up to be pretty healthy, our bodies need to experience germs and infections in order to be able to combat them.
this rush to take medication the minute we think we`re sick, to disinfect the shit; no pun intended; out of everything and the massive quantities of antibiotics we consume in our food supply are necessarily making us healthier just more susceptible to a more dangerous class of germs.
i`m swamped at work so i`m resposting this George Carlin piece that i listened to over the weekend.
Rockets and Penises in the Persian Gulf
I`d like to talk a little about that `war` we had in the Persian Gulf. Remember that? The big war in the Persian Gulf? Lemme tell you what was goin` on.
Naturally, you can forget all that entertaining fiction about having to defend the model democracy those lucky Kuwaitis get to live under. And for the moment you can also put aside the very real, periodic need Americans have for testing their new weapons on human flesh. And also, just for the fun of it, let`s ignore George Bush Sr.`s obligation to protect the oil interests of his family and friends. There was another, much more important, consideration at work. Here`s what really happened.
Dropping a Load for Uncle Sam.
The simple fact is that America was long overdue to drop high explosives on helpless civilians; people who have no argument with us whatsoever. After all, it had been awhile, and the hunger gnaws. Remember that`s our specialty: picking on countries that have marginally effective air forces.
But all that aside, let me tell you what I liked about that Gulf War: it was the first war that appeared on every television channel, including cable.
And even though the TV show consisted largely of Pentagon war criminals displaying maps and charts, it got very good ratings. And that makes sense, because we like war. We`re a warlike people. We can`t stand not to be fucking with someone. We couldn`t wait for the Cold War to end so we could climb into the big Arab sandbox and play with our nice new toys. We enjoy war.
And one reason we enjoy it is that we`re good at it. You know why we`re good at it? Because we get alot of practice. This country is only 200 years old, and already we`ve had ten major wars. We average a major war every twenty years, So we`re good at it!
And it`s just as well we are, because we`re not very good at anything else. Can`t build a decent car anymore. Can`t make a TV set, a cell phone, or a VCR. Got no steel industry left. No textiles. Can`t educate our young people. Can`t get health care to our old people. But we can bomb the shit outta your country, all right. We can bomb the shit outta your country!
If You`re Brown, You`re Goin Down
Especially if your country is full of brown people. Oh, we like that, don`t we? That`s our hobby now. But it`s also our new job in the world: bombing brown people. Iraq, Panama, Grenada, Libya. You got some brown people in your country? Tell `em to watch the fuck out, or we`ll goddamn bomb them!
Well, who were the last white people you can remember that we bombed? In fact, can you remember any white people we ever bombed? The Germans! That`s it! Those are the only ones. And that was only because they were tryin` to cut in on our action. They wanted to dominate the world.
Bullshit! That`s our job. That`s our fuckin` job.
But the Germans are ancient history. These days, we only bomb brown people. And not because they`re cutting in our action; we do it because they`re brown. Even those Serbs we bombed in Yugoslavia aren`t really white, are they? Naaah! They`re sort of down near the swarthy end of the white spectrum. Just brown enough to bomb. I`m still waiting for the day we bomb the English. People who really deserve it.
A Disobediant American
Now you folks might`ve noticed, I don`t feel about that Gulf War the way we were instructed to feel about it by the United States government. My mind doesn`t work that way. You see, I`ve got this real moron thing I do, it`s called `Thinking` And I guess I`m not a very good American, because I like to form my own opinions; I don`t just roll over when I`m told. Most Americans roll over on command. Not me, There are certain rules I observe.
Believe You Me
My first rule: Never believe anyone in authority says. None of them. Government, Police, clergy, the corporate criminals. None of them. And neither do I believe anything I`m told by the media, who, in the case of the Gulf War, functioned as little more than unpaid employees of the Defense Department, and who, most of the time, operate as unofficial public relations agency for the government and industry.
I don`t believe in any of them. And I have to tell you, folks, I don`t really believe very much in my country either. I don`t get all choked up about yellow ribbons and American flags. I see them as symbols, and I leave them to the symbol-minded.
Show us your Dick
I also look at war itself a little differently from most. I see it largely as an exercise in dick-waving. That`s really all it is: alot of men standing around in a field waving their dicks at one another. Men, insecure abuot the size of their penises, choose to kill one another.
That`s also what all that moron athlete bullshit is all about, and what that macho, male posturing and strutting around in bars and locker rooms represents. It`s called `dick fear.` Men are terrified that their dicks are inadequate, and so they have to `compete` in order to feel better about themselves. And since war is the ultimate competition, essentially men are killing one another in order to improve their genital self-esteem.
You needn`t be a historian or a political scientist to see the Bigger Dick Foreign Policy Theory at work. It goes like this: `What? They have bigger dicks? Bomb them!` And of course, the bombs, the rockets, and the bullets are all shaped like penises. Phallic weapons. There`s an unconscious need to project the national penis into the affairs of others. It`s called `fucking with people`
Show us your Bush
So as far as I`m concerned, that whole thing in the Persian Gulf was nothing more than one big dic-waving cockfight.
In this particular case, Saddam Hussein questioned the size of George Bush`s dick. And George Bush had been called a wimp for so long, he apparently felt the need to act out his manhood fantasies by sending America`s white children to kill other people`s brown children.
Clearly the worst kind of wimp.
Even his name, `Bush`, as slang, is related to the genitals without being the genitals.
A bush is sort of a passive, secondary sex characteristic. It`s even used as a slang term for women: `Hey, pal, how`s the bush in this area?`
I can`t help thinking, if this president`s name had been George Boner…well, he might have felt a little better about himself, and he wouldn`t have had to kill all those children. Too bad he couldn`t locate his manhood.
Premature Extraction
Actually, when you think about it, this country has had a manhood problem for some time. You can tell the language we use; language always gives us away. What did we do wrong in Vietnam? We `pulled out`! Not a very manly thing to do. No. When you`re fucking people, you`re supposed to stay with it and fuck them good; fuck them to death; hang in there and keep fucking them until they`re all fucking dead.
But in Vietnam what happened was by accident we left a few women and children alive, and we haven`t felt good about ourselves since.
That`s why in the Persian Gulf, George Bush had to say, `This will not be another Vietnam.` He actually said, `this time we`re going all the way.`
Imagine. An American president using the sexual slang of a thirteen-year-old to describe his foreign policy.
And, of course, when it got right down to it, he didn`t `go all the way.` Faced with going into Baghdad he punked out. No balls. Just Bush.
Instead, he applied sanctions, so he`d be sure that an extra half a million brown children would die. And so his oil buddies could continue to fill their pockets.
If you want to know what happened in the Persian Gulf, just remember the first names of the two men who ran that war: Dick Cheney and Colin Powell.
Dick and Colon.
Someone got fucked in the ass.
And those brown people better make sure they keep their pants on, because Dick and Colin have come back for an encore.
next week is carnival in Trinidad. actually as we speak frenzied preparations are ongoing, there are fetes every night this week leading up to the two day orgy of excess that carnival is. by this time next week, the streets will be swept and the penitent will be lining in churches all over the country to receive their ashes.
and i`m missing it.
well i`m not really missing it, i think i`m missing the idea of being in Trinidad for carnival, particularly since this is the second successive one and at the rate the USCIS does things it may be at least two more years before i get to experience another.
it`s not like there are new things to be experienced. i`ve been involved in carnival in one form or another since i could walk. my mother; surprise of surprises; used to be this huge carnival junkie and every year, we`d pack the Mini full of food early on J`ouvert morning to watch ole mas and the other J`ouvert competitions, on Tuesday the process would be repeat for the `pretty` mas only this would be an all day event. i can`t remember if my mother was responsible for my school bring out a band or if there was one before that and she just took charge, but every year of my primary school education the weekends before the actual two days of carnival were filled with various children`s parades. in my high school years i wasn`t a direct participant, i would accompany my mother reluctantly to go see the parade of the bands but i was really interested.
after high school however, i discovered the joys of mas making and mas camps and helped make costumes. i also discovered the joys of feteing and actually playing mas as adult. i`ve partied the entire week before carnival, followed a band around just for the music for two days, followed a band around for the sole purpose of taking photos, built an ubiquitous carnival magazine, slept through j`ouvert, worked during carnival while people were feteing outside.
i really have been there and done that and got the t-shirt, so there is nothing specifically that i`m missing besides the ability to decide how involved i want to be this year.
yesterday the boychick came home with an assignment that required him to discuss with his family reasons that people would be unhappy with the government.
after laughing hysterically on the couch for a couple of minutes, i tried honestly to have a discussion with him. actually i didn`t but vic vetoed my first title for his essay; Ignorance is Strength, War is Peace, Knowledge is Slavery, she also vetoed my second suggestion; Trust no one; but i decided i`d use that today.
i found it interesting that even at age 9, the boychick had learned how useful self censorship is already, i wish he could teach me. i tend to say what i think regardless of the consequences. it was also kind of sad that the first thing i told him after i`d finished laughing that was that governments couldn`t be trusted.
i`ve come to realise that no matter how noble the intentions, there are two inherent problems with governments; they are massive bureaucracies and to get into power in a `democratic` society requires compromise. i put democratic in quotes because there are no true democracies, as much as we`d like to believe it, the voice of the people means squat. to get elected requires lots of money and since campaign contributors are not giving money for altruistic reasons, they want to see a return on their investment. so at the end of the day our elected officials are not beholden to the voters, but to the campaign contributors. and the problem with bureaucracies is once they get entrenched they are almost impossible to implement change. on the surface it looks like things are being changed but on a day to day basis, it`s business as usual, because the people entrenched therein know governments and policies will change but their jobs are pretty much guaranteed.
i`m early this morning and with enough time to post no less. vic had to go into work at some ridiculous hour; ye olde pot & pannery is doing inventory today.
i have at least half hour before the boychick needs to be officially away and at least an hour before we have to get out of the house. on most days, the alarm hasn`t even gone off by now, much less for the second or third snooze. there are some advantages to where we live. three blocks from the school and a brisk 35 minute walk to the office.
as i sit here thinking about how early it is and watch the slowly lightening sky, i realise that i know people in London that already halfway into their day already, in Trinidad, people are already late for work if they`re still reading this at home. relativity is an interesting concept. i think it`s what`s keeping me sane right now.
i`ve been edgy all weekend, i`m ready for a change, not in my personal life, but i think i want a new job, i`m not entirely thrilled with the one i have now; but by comparison, my current employer isn`t in the top three worse bosses i`ve had and i stuck their shit much longer.
my inability to leave the country is worrying me, i`m worrying about my daughters; there is only so much you can do over the phone, i`m worrying about money; am i making enough? will i ever make enough to not have to worry about it?
i`m not entirely without perspective. people are doing the same and more on what i`m making, they have less of a support system, etc, etc, etc. at the end of the day it is all relative but where you`re inside it`s hard to observe the bigger picture.
my mother and grandmother have issues with each other. and the fact that they have been living together for the last 16 years hasn`t actually helped matters.
my mother has never forgiven her mother for abandoning her as a child and my grandmother has never forgiven my mother from dragging her away from everything and everyone she knew to live in Trinidad. and on this basis the two of them are constantly bickering. a fight of epic proportions the first year that my grandmother was in Trinidad effectively ruined Christmas for me as an adult.
there are cycles to the bickering and they tend to behave when i`m around or when my girls are, however since my departure things have gotten worse and worse. i have believed; probably idealistically; that the bickering was keeping them alive. the fact that they had each other to antagonise gave them the will to wake up each morning.
now that is about to change and i`m worried that i may not see one of both of them alive again. my mother is unable to deal with my grandmother anymore is putting her in a home. and before you pass judgement, bear in mind that mother just turned 70 and my grandmother is in her 90s. my grandmother is mostly bedridden; but of her own volition. i don`t disagree with the decision but i worry about how they are going to make out without each other.
i seemed to be stuck on sex these days. it could be my reading material. i mentioned last week that i received a book from a reader. the book is called The Guide to Getting It On! (The Universe`s Coolest and Most Informative Book About Sex) and was sent to me by the author, Paul Joannides. i haven`t gotten very far and i have to say that portion of the title in the parentheses is absolutely correct.
this books is well written and informative and i wouldn`t hesitate giving it to any young; or not so young; adult i know. i can say without shame that my sexual education is pretty through but there are still interesting new facts contained in the book. and unlike a lot of other `manuals` it doesn`t take itself too seriously.
one of the interesting points touched early on was the disparity in the eagerness of the pharmaceutical companies to initially get involved with female contraceptives and the male enhancement market. the book touches on it briefly but provides reference and resource material, which i have already added to my wish list.
i`ve always been puzzled by the disparity in sexual equality and freedoms between men and women. if a man sleeps around he`s a stud, if a woman sleeps around she`s a slut. where is the difference? i read somewhere once that the urge for women to sleep around is actually genetic and more natural. in early human societies women slept with as many men in the tribe as they could to ensure that the got the strongest and fittest babies. that`s been corroborated by recent studies that show a category of sperm that exist only to block other sperm from fertilising an egg. puts a whole new perspective on sexuality doesn`t it.
i have a couple of thoughts on sex and religion running through my head and i`ve been trying to assemble them into something coherent all morning. i suppose the best place to start would be with my religious background.
my mother was a Methodist, not sure if that`s United or otherwise. at the time of my birth Trinidad was predominately Catholic and the best opportunities for school were at the parochial schools so my mother hedged her bets and had me baptised twice, once as a Methodist and once as a Catholic. Every weekend until i abandoned organised religion as a teen, i would go to mass on a Saturday night and to church with my mother on a Sunday morning.
i was as conscientious in church as i was in school, learned my catechism, learned all the bible stories, even at some point read the entire King James version of the bible for own edification and with everything else i`ve read it stuck. i made my First Communion at nine; which was early in those days; and became an altar boy soon after. i also managed to keep my saucy young ass out of the reach of errant priests until near adulthood and even then, that was my parish priest as opposed to any of those that interacted with on a daily basis. at age 14, i even seriously pondered joining the priesthood.
what`s the point of all this? i grew up in churches, literally and figuratively. i`m not unfamiliar with religion; specifically Christianity. and when i began questioning Christianity, i researched other religions as only a Type A personality can. and there is one fundamental similarity throughout; at some point, the karma; the basic ideals and principles thereof; gets superseded by the dogma. Judaism, Islam, Christianity, Buddhism, almost any religion you can name, all the fundamental beliefs are good and then somewhere along the line, it becomes politicised and the entire thing become corrupted.
i could go into a short history of the bible here, but it would be anything but short and start too many other tangents, so i`ll soldier on. with all this strong religious grounding i didn`t have any hang ups about sex, i have my mother to thank for that too. she taught me it was natural and tried to provide me with as much factual information as she could.
i`ve said this before and i`ll say it again, what two consenting adults chose to do in the privacy of their own homes is their own damn business. as for the sanctity of marriage, the institution as we know it is only 600 years old, because before that the church refused to sanctify marriages because the act of procreation was sinful. funny how the dogma changes but the basic principle of Christianity hasn`t changed; Love one another, as I have loved you; unconditional love.
