It was cut throat! they're right on top of each other, kinda shoving. grabbing clothes.
but no eye contact.
If this was a dudes-only scene it woulda come to blows
it felt like some scene from the serengeti where wilderbeasts are climbing over each other to get across some brown dirty river.
Just the density of women was shocking. U can't fit this many guys into one area without a totally different feel to it
I was with my wife but i swear i was the only dude. they were mostly young-women's stores so I was the only husband. The only guy period!
then at one point, my wife picked up something and a pushy girl next to her said "that's cute!"
Can u believe they say this? "that's cute?"
Imagine a tiny room, stuffed with dudes, grabbing clothes and one says "that's cute". Sadly it just doesn't happen. because if it did, it'd be super cute.
but this is why i love women. because in a pushy store, i'm the biggest and strongest.
things could be worse. but it still sucks.
we all go through it... unless you don't like sports.
here's my version:
the cowboys - either they're heartless/gutless/bitches or they're not that good. i really can't tell which. this coming sunday night, they'll play the last game of the season on nat'l TV. everyone will be watching. winner of the game grabs the NFC East and goes to the playoffs. loser goes home and thinks about it for 7 months. the cowboys will lose. they just will. this team loses every big game they ever play. they even lose easy games just to set up "must win" situations. then lose those.
it's only a matter of how they'll lose this coming sunday. here are the most likely options:
A) 44-17. blown out from start to finish. they get 14 in garbage time. trail 27-3 at half. i rate this most likely.
B) they blow a big lead and lose in the last minute
C) they trail all game but come back late, only to fall short
the lakers - they have no chance of winning it all this year. thats something that almost every team can say at the beginning of every season. but not the lakers. they expect to win it all. but (li'l history) their star center had a psychotic break in the playoffs last season, causing them to lose a series they should have won. so they traded him for the best point guard in the NBA. but the commissioner of the league held a coup, vetoed the trade, embarrassed the teams and players involved, and now the despised center is back. in the aftermath, their 3rd best player on the team quit, so they sold him. and now they are much worse than they were before.
the dodgers - i don't think they still play baseball. they're just a fantasy team now.
so i'm moving on to a new phase of sports enjoyment. rooting against teams. it's what you do (what i do) when your teams suck. some people jump to other teams. that's not my bag baby. i think that's cowardly and spineless. you gotta stick with your team, even when it sucks most years.
i hate the celtics. and they're gonna lose this year. a lot. but no matter how well they do, they won't win a championship. and that'll be nice to watch.
i hate the steelers. and they're gonna lose this year too.
we're trying to tell people what they look like without sounding racist, or mean.
sounds better to say "i'll be you get played by Steve Buscemi"
"you're fucking ugly"
so how's this all gonna turn out?
the new work-horse dr. glitter...
the world's best daddy glitter...
the crazy workout plans ...
i just don't know.
why am i doing this?
like i said with the social stuff. i started trying it on... i guess i'm enjoying things.
but it sure feels different... that's for sure
I can't explain this "incredible hulk"-like transformation. It's shocking. Especially when I feel so hot and confident as I brush my teeth at night. Then wake up and see my DAD in the mirror.
It's also disconcerting. Because my wife and I have most of our sex in the morning. So I guess she wants to pork my dad
It might be the caffeine. It's like a youth serum. Unfortunately it gives me terrible gas. Hot and smelly or look like my dad...
And I think to myself what a wonderful world
And i can't believe how nice everyone was to me. Kaiser people were super cool. Blew my impression of them.
None of them could believe I did this before without any meds. They promised I'd get some. And I did
Fentanyl and versed. Yummy!
Now I'm groggy and apathetic. But in a real content pleasant way.
Maybe an opiate addiction would be fun!
Anyway, I'm relieved and grateful for my health. It's hard to go into a big city hospital building for care. It feels impersonal and makes me feel like I'm sick. But they helped me feel cared for. And I made it
only 45 more minutes. yay. can't wait... to eat!
actually i've done this before. when i was a resident i had this procedure done. but i was working that day, so they couldn't give me anesthesia. they just asked "does anyone want to do one?" i said "sure!".
without any meds, they put a tube about the size of your thumb into my duodenum. i was writhing. it was by far the most uncomfortable feeling of my life. i can still feel that cold, firm plastic in my throat. poking inside my stomach. strange. bad.
i hope today is better. i hope they give me fentanyl!
it's important for doctor's to be patients. that is, for us to go through the experience of being a patient in this crazy world of western medicine. i think it helps us have empathy for our patients. helps us remember what it's like to feel so vulnerable, and naked.
even the ibuprofen thing. it's not like i read it two weeks ago and committed it to memory. so i feel kinda guilty now. like i did something wrong. it starts the whole relationship off in a funny way. like a submissive/dom thing.
My dad had some issues at my age. He got one of these tests and it saved his life because they found something that could have turned into cancer. He took medication and he's fine. Yay science!
But I have an HMO. And they didn't want to pay for this test. They figure my dads case was different.
So I told a little fib. Hands down the best part of being a doctor, I know exactly what to say to get any test I want.
So tomorrow I'll get drugged. Then they'll put a tube in my throat and take pics. Then I find out if I'm lucky like my dad. Or unlucky.
in a sport where players clearly aren't in shape for 6 weeks, and admittedly don't care until the playoffs, the first two weeks are just a public raping. it's like the 'men of wall street' ice-capades tour, going from city to city sucking dollars.
personally, i hope they start during the playoff push in february.
here's my early assessment of the work (and for the record, i've been training people on using these interfaces for 3 years...)
current user interfaces don't match with humans very well. i'd give them a C, if they were in high school.
the software i'm using is fine. it's good actually. but in general, people just don't get it.
some people do. and younger people do better than older ones. but across the board, it's still people trying to figure out what the programmer was going for.
i think "user experience" in general is in 2nd grade. we (humans making UX) have some skills and it's showing promise of one day being a useful. and some people are really ahead of the game (like 4th grade!). but we're clearly not reaching everyone.
the Blue represents the super-users. they get it and say "ok, and?"
the Red represents the other 2nd graders. they're kinda keeping up, but this shit's all new.
the Green represents the lost children. "what the fuck are you saying? so do i rub the credit card on the top of the computer or just hold it up to the camera?"
the Yellow represents artists in the wrong class. they might get it. they seem like they could get it. but then they lose interest.
probably in 20 years, someone will create a new way for us to use computer interfaces powerfully and intuitively. for now, it's just a lucky few. and we're very employable.
but as i listened, i started challenging myself.
am i still against the death penalty?
how long has it been since i really reconsidered it?
turns out, the last time i thought about my stance was before i had kids. woa! the stoneages. back then, i wasn't into the idea of the government deciding something as significant as 'who lives, who dies'. i just didn't (still don't) trust the government. duh.
i mean, i was never totally about the 'an eye for an eye' thing. maybe it makes sense. i know i'd want to kill anyone who killed my loved ones. but having the government do it, just gets scary.
(isn't this a lovely topic. reminds me of when they asked dukakis what he'd do if they gang-raped his wife. seriously! check it out)
but now that i'm a parent, something has changed in me. i'm starting to see my place in society (right now at least) as a parent. i have this responsibility to parent a younger generation. it's weird!
this shows up in a lot of ways...
-like, not hitting on the drunk girl. oy! this is so sad. but i just can't do it. i see the little girl trying to get her parents approval. fuck. i dreaded this day, cause i knew it would come.
fortunately, i can still handle watching drunk girl porn. when that goes... shoot me.
-and getting in the face of random misbehaving kids. this kid was cutting in line for the slide the other day, and i called him on it. i just had to. the other kids needed me to. but i was shocked at the same time. i'm that random dad who scolded him.
and it's not a bad thing. i'm enjoying my new role. and playing it out while i have it. personally i can't wait for the upcoming role of 'old, kinda senile, drug addict, who doesn't give a shit' played so masterfully by alan arkin in Little Miss Sunshine.
another funny thing about the new role, is that i'm bonding with random adults. folks i never woulda talked to years ago. folks i thought were just lame sycophants, nursing the dominant paradigm for approval. turns out they were! but now i'm driving in their lane. its strange. perhaps i suck.
so there i was, with all this swimming in my head, as the npr story played.... so i freshly reconsidered my opinion in light of my new role.
as a parent, how do i want to handle these criminals. for their sakes, and the sake of society.
and i decided:
i can't condone killing them. i probably would want to kill the criminals myself. get all nuts and slice 'em up. but regardless, there's no way i'd let the government do it. they'd fuck it up. and these cases need to be handled carefully.
i'm sure there's a creative, clever and useful way to help criminals, and to help victims of crime. this isn't it.
sorry sycophants, you can ostracize me again.
On June 12, 1991, Michael's Chicago Bulls beat Magic's Lakers to win their first title ever. Before the next season started, Magic would announce that had HIV and would retire. Magic briefly returned to the NBA 5 years later, but it was just a 17 game tour.
the other night while watching my new favorite show, the NBA channel's "hardwood classics". They were showing that game. i was afraid it would be sad, but it was incredible.
the lakers were down 3 games to 1, so the series was clearly going chicago's way. but the game was in LA, and the lakers played well. this was a different laker team than the current version. when they lost a series (or a championship), they lost clawing and fighting. to their last breath.
chicago was better. their defense was scary: long arms, quick hands, tall players and fast guards. but magic's triple-double kept them in it (16 points, 20 assists, 11 rebounds, in 48 minutes). but he didn't have anyone else to carry the load. worthy and scott were injured in the previous game, kareem was retired, kobe was 12.
what i noticed most were 3 things:
- "magic can take 3 shots and still dominate a game". Dr J said that. its true. the lakers played an NBA finals game, without 2 of their top 3 scorers. the other (magic) took 12 shots. and they were in the game til the last minute. there was just something about that guy that made his team better. elden campbell and terry teagle shouldn't be trading punches with scottie pippen and michael jordan, but they were.
- scottie pippen was sick. sick. he was as good as anyone on the floor. he could take it to the rack anytime he wanted. his arms made him 7'4". he could rebound. he could shoot. i didn't find a flaw with his game.
- this game was a passing of the torch, quite literally. the sport has a long history of great players, who defined their era, passing the role to the next guy. wilt and russell dominated, and then came kareem. bird and magic dominated, until bird's dominance ended prematurely. he even called out the moment (in the middle of the '87 finals) saying "he's the best there is" about magic after his game 4 winning shot. jordan watched magic and bird dominate for years, even though he was clearly the most exciting and talented player in the league. with this game, jordan took the throne. what i noticed most about jordan was that he could score constantly. not only because he could get to the rim every time, but because he had to. he played with an intensity that set him apart.
also obvious in watching jordan, is how much kobe plays like him. almost identical. the drop step, the drive-hang-and-wait, the jumper, and the intensity. and like his mentor, his intensity sets him apart. some mock kobe for this mimicry, but another perspective is that we're lucky. after losing michael, we got kobe.
It's a good discussion, can we extrapolate med students to represent regular normal people. People like you and me. There are some reasons why you can't, but that's not really my subject today. So if you have a major problem with this assumption, uh, I guess you should stop reading and leave a nasty comment below.
Ok, for the rest of you...
This study showed that Americans have a bias towards white people and towards the upper class. That is, they are more likely to think and act favorably (in an unconscious way, not in a deliberate purposeful way) towards those groups. In fact when conscious choice is measured, people are pretty fair. That is, they try to treat people equally. And by the way, this article just looked at "whites" and "blacks".
So there it is. It's measurable. It's unequivocal. Smarty-pantses at Harvard have proven it. We prefer wealthy white people. Can we have a moment to digest this?
Is this really a shock?
I mean, shouldn't we naturally try to show favor towards the powerful? Throughout animal history, hasn't it always been to one's advantage to gain favor from those in power?
Hang on, this is not going to devolve into a "justification of racism" blog.
I'm just stunned by the implication that this test makes. Not whether they're right or wrong with their findings. But that this stuff is measurable and they've come to a conclusion... we're racists.
And there's good reasons for it. We've been socialized that way.
Exhibit A - google "black people", you see this one first.
Exhibit B - google "white people", you get this story first. (Chinese companies rent white people)
These are poor examples, sorta. but my point isn't whether or not americans have been socialized towards certain stereotypes about whites, blacks, or for that matter, women, men, latinos, men who make pastries, women who play professional softball, etc. for me this is a given, we're socialized.
my point IS that we now have a scientific conclusion to that socialization. it creates unconscious decisions. aka, racism.
hey racists, isn't that a relief. it's not your fault. if you grew up in LA hating USC and everything they stood for and everyone who rooted for them, well that's pretty much the same thing.
hopefully, this leads to a greater understanding of the power of our socialization and more intention behind the images and stories we support.
even more interesting to me, though, is the question "what is racism?". shouldn't we judge people more on their actions (conscious decisions) than their thoughts (conscious or unconscious)?
the posts usually start out just fine. some normal rambling about something of particular importance to me, and then they change. and then they go astray. and by the end, they make no sense whatsoever.
here's a short sampling...
"even writing this message, n ambien, tpied int oridig marchmallows, it quite difficult. 'it looks like a holte in the beach somewheel."
"ooops, the shower's been on. damn,allthehotwaters gone"
"what's hotter than the shape of a magnum burned into the chest hair of magnum PI someone photoshop that for me and i'll make you wealthy beyond your wildest dreams"
i'm zooming along in very light traffic, then i see a person on the side hop over the side rail. now the freeway i'm on is elevated, about two stories about the street, so this took some work. and we're NOT in a good neighborhood.
as soon as he gets over the rail, he starts running. i'm in the 3rd lane (of 5) but i'm not sure i'll miss him. so i swerve to my left while honking. he just keeps going. fortunately, there was a break in the cars right behind me, so he had a fighting chance of making it to the center divider.
this is a 10 lane freeway!
the guy was black, wearing red hot pants, a white tank top, and one of those reggae knit caps. like this:
had to be running from someone right? or high.
or maybe he found a portal to another dimension
or had no health care? (see a prior post)
the effect it had on me was fear. i'm afraid of people who don't show the same attachment to life/health/physicality that i do. Andrew Sullivan explains this well in a piece about the suicide bombers in 9/11 (see) link
"a suicide attack is one of the most terrorizing, because you know that the will behind it is beyond the usual parameters of human nature. Like kamikaze missions, the tactic was a sign that these men were operating on a different matrix from the rest of us."
if this were the Matrix, an agent easily could have jumped into my body in order to quell some unrest and/or destroy the rebels that were "taking the freeways".
and heaven forbid if i saw another one. instantly they'd be related. whether in family or just circumstance. impossible to see these as two distinct random events.
a third and it's a movement.
when does it become a revolutions
... because that's exactly what we're talking about. a revolution.
and what will it take. what level of discomfort with life as we know it, will make revolution an obiouvs alternative.
we're there noW! we just have plenty of 'things' that people need, so we stay satisfied. it's enough. but we all feel that were living some kind of partial truth. and we can wait to have our kids see it. then we can say "see, this is what we've been living it." on the other hands, one they see it will be devastating. we'll have to lie in the piss and squalor with our own children and admit "we know, and there's noting we' re doing about it."
i love the feeling of creating, through writing and performing. i love that zing!
my decision was a huge step for me. very 'self' affirming. like i finally decided my life was worth following my dream.
side note on "following your dream", DO IT! whatever that dream is, you were put on this earth to have that dream and to follow it. it really doesn't matter if you achieve that dream. really. the point of being alive is to know what you want, and strive to make it happen. that's it. all the 'stuff' that happens while you figure it out, while you strive, while you succeed/fail/etc ... that IS life.
in some ways, i've only come alive in the past two years, while "following my dream". and at this point, a career in comedy is not my dream anymore. and i'm thrilled for the experience.
but something i've learned along the way is kind of a dirty little secret about "show business". and that's the subject of today's blog entry. show business is all about being popular and cool. those actors on TV, in movies, in commercials... those rap stars, those pop musicians... they just want to be popular. and they are! they're really good at it.
remember those popular kids in high school, they were good at it too. well the big stars in "show biz" are even more popular. they're so good at being cool and interesting, they've got millions of people dying to download everything about them. that's good.
show biz is about being cool. and people go into it for one reason, they want to be cool too. (replace cool with whatever word you want... urban dictionary: cool)
once they get there, they may discover it's not for them. or that the trappings of celebrity are much worse than anyone warned them. or that they really just like acting as an art. and those folks end up acting in smaller theaters, or playing music out of the limelight.
i'm not saying that all performers are in it for the fame. i'd say the opposite. that MOST artists (visual, music, theater/acting) are doing it because they have to, they're drawn to, it's the only thing that feels right. but all of them know this story, somewhere in their hearts.
my other point, which i had to learn through experience, is that comedians have difficult careers. making people laugh (telling people uncomfortable truth) is a difficult life nowadays. some comedians make shitloads of money (a very small number). but all of them, if that's they're source of income, work their asses off for it.
but that's ok. because as i said ... they're drawn to it. it's the only thing that feels right. they have to. i learned (by following my dream.. do it!) that i don't have to. i'm drawn to a lot of things. but i'm not drawn to comedy enough to live for it.
Did someone run thru the streets of Beijing screaming "they love this shit in America! Well be rich!"
Is this the stand up sad chinese violin gold rush? It just makes me sad. Like someone selling typewriters next to a Mac store. Ok that's a little less sad. More weird than sad
Maybe that's the point. Maybe some old Chinese dudes were sitting around (stoned) thinking of ways to make cash
Everyone will think it's so spiritual and ancient. And they'll feel so bad for us because it's obviously not good music. Well make a bundle.
Mission accomplished. Sorta. I didn't tip the guy
now you say, ah, you must be...
at a bachelor party in Reno with 20 friends
on a surf safari in indonesia
touring every football game in the country as part of a story you're doing for Playboy
i'm the daddy of two sweet little cool kids. and this is the first time since becoming a dad where every moment feels precious and awesome. i don't want it to change. but i'm constantly aware that it has to.
for years i could wait for the little baby to grow up. people would stop me on the street with "don't they grow up so fast?" i'd reply "no" and walk away.
but now i'm here. they're not growing up fast, but they grew up to this current state and it's sheer bliss. i'm so interested and fascinated by them. and we play. really fun play. like lay on the ground, nothing else matters, play. and i look at their bodies and i see them getting bigger. i know where it's going.
it's kind of a strange thing about being a parent. it's a little unfair to them. they have the most pure and innocent ideas about life and what will happen next.
i don't know what will happen, but i'll bet i won't be their favorite person in a few years. i'll be i'll be an annoyance. i feel a little bad knowing something they don't. like i'm cheating on them. because otherwise, we're completely trustworthy with each other. i could see one of them saying "you knew this would happen? you fucker. i'll never trust you again!"
maybe they will
but i'm just gonna soak every moment i can out of this part. it's all i have. the present. it's all any of us have.
good news... i discovered some silly thoughts in the basement of my brain while i was cleaned out. it explains my whole problem. i thought, and this is going back to 16 yr old dr. glitt, that "natural" was the best way to live. (ok so far) and "natural" meant no stimulants, no drugs, nothing artificial added to my body. exercise, vegetarian diet, sleep, everything in moderation (even the occasional ciggy) was ok. and this combo would lead to a healthy body, healthy spirit, healthy outlook and more success everywhere in life.
ok. i was an intense kid. i don't know about you, but i wanna go back and just hug that kid.
its not a bad plan right? but caffeine (and this is the big picture) has been tough for me to integrate into my life because i have this deep (old) story that i'm better/healthier without it. that caffeine is a PED and i can make it just fine in life without them.
i didn't start using caffeine til my early 30s, so i was doing fine without them. adding them feels like an admission of failure... of diminishing returns... that the kids today are just too quick for my withering flesh.
again, i wanna go hug that guy. by "that guy" i mean me a week ago.
then a couple of things happened.
1. i remembered that life is a gift, and feeling good is a blessing.
2. animals are enhanced by the plants they live around
point #1 - i have a friend who survived childhood cancer. she never thinks like "last week me" does. she tries to enjoy life and feel good. she doesn't trip on that most-healthy-existence-in-the-world shit. and then her brother died, and that rocked me/us again. doc, chill out.
point #2 - caffeine, amphetamines (nice ones, not crank), weed, mushrooms... all of them make our lives more enhanced. bring us places we wouldn't have gone without them.
so if i can manage the use, i'm gonna have more success. a more full life. i'm gonna soar. gonna fly now!
btw i hear sly was coked to the gills in that scene
i never needed caffeine. glitter medical school... glitter residency... glitter grave yard job.
then i had a kid. suddenly, i needed a boost. just once in a while, to get me over the top.
first came the mild side effects; insomnia and eczema on my cheeks (all four!)
then came the more significant ones. like SVT a.k.a. palpitations, where your heart skips a beat or two every minute
i've quit before. i stopped having coffee ice cream at night when i noticed that i needed ambien to get to bed. fueled a great blog though!
i switched from espresso to black tea when i noticed my ass was burning 24/7.
actually i feel kinda bad to say i'm "quitting", when it's just black tea. like when Chappelle gets booed for trying to quit weed in Half Baked.
but i gotta do it. because i'm addicted. i feel it. i can't wait for 'tea time'. i get all chatty and high just getting the shit ready. and then i'm all happy and productive and super-crazy "positive" for hours. and then i'm so-so. and then i'm beat, old and dead.
i love the high part, but i can't stand the comedown. and i have to take benadryl every night to get a good sleep. so i'm taking the month of August off!
8 days already. so far the worst part was today. man that Monday shit ain't fair. i am not a whistling, happy, cog-in-the-wheel of humanity on Monday without my fix.
the best part, i'm sleeping like a baby and dreaming like i'm on acid. the other night i had this vivid (and i mean fucking vivid) dream that my cousin (who's also my only reader) played me this dope new song. and it was Black Cow! and in the dream, i sat there hearing it for the first time. i remember thinking, i gotta remember this song. thanks cuz.
- Empty restaurant
- Other people there using Groupons
- Food overly salty
At least this time the waitress was quite fetching. But I'm banning myself from buying anymore. Unless they Groupon some bacon-grilled cheese eatery.
Interestingly, NPR just did a story about the inventor of the Flip camera. He sold his idea to CISCO and is now focused on his next big venture: A Grilled Cheese restaurant chain called The Melt.
I think he's onto something here. Back in '02 when i created a Grilled Cheese stand at Burning Man, that shit just flew off my pan. I couldn't make enough of 'em, or fast enough. If The Melt Groupon's, I'm IN. Just sayin.
was it the money? see this discussion. one could probably improve a few schools with $18 billion extra. but that's only if we sell the shuttles... can we sell them? to Kanye? party in the Endeavor!
or is it that same old "why are we exploring space when we can't deal with problems at home". but that's bullshit. when shit starts hitting the fan at my house, that's EXACTLY what i want to do. go explore... somewhere.
well, i leave you with this possible reason. when i looked for a picture of today's launch, it came next to the ad below. times have changed since 1981.
and i learned two things.
1. We forget
2. We change
let me get to the first one, before i forget it. the last time i went to a music festival i took my first child, when she was an infant. i walked around with a baby strapped to my chest, but otherwise i was free. despite the brand-new role of parent cutting through my leg like a bear-trap, i managed to drop and roll and see all the bands i wanted to.
things have changed, now i have two kids... and they're large. and they have opinions. and, more importantly, i care about their opinions.
6 years ago, it's quite possible that my infant didn't enjoy seeing 'widespread panic' while pressed up against my drug-sweat-encrusted chest. but i'm not sure i cared too much. i was already "up to here" with the whole parenting thing. i wasn't about to give up my festival experience.
this time, i just couldn't bring myself to take drugs and slam the kids against my chest. for one, my 7 year old would probably kick my ass. and the cops might have taken me away.
which brings me to item #1. i forgot!
I forgot what it was like to have only one kid
and i forgot what it's like to have an infant. they're not that hard. and they don't care if you party naked with the asian girl from the salmon burger stand.
i thought this was gonna be a snap, just like the last time i went. oops, i forgot how much my life has changed.
which brings me to item #2. i've changed. but i rarely get to measure it so clearly. this was the same festival, same location, same friends, but different me.
i didn't really want my 'old' festival experience. i like playing with my kids now.
although its no coincidence that they're actually fun now, not just blobby babies, but that's another post.
which was shamefully stupid on his part. they owned the right of prima nocta. why kill her when we was about to get married? and she was hot? wait a week and you can roll gangsta on the highland philly.
nevertheless, she's dead and the lord is waiting for "this scrapper."
and there he comes... down main street.
it's not really a street. morelike mud with some houses around in no particular arrangement. but he's gangsta and they're amused.
oooh, he's unarmed. he's got his hands behind his neck riding a horse.
or so they thought!
knife behind back trick!
first brit gets a stick to the head
2nd brit gets weird branch into his neck
3rd brit gets his leg cut off
4th beaten todeath with a heavy hammer
then a riot starts. wallace throws people off the fort towers. brits get stabbed and clubbed. nobleman is
surrounded. the unceremoniously slice his throat.
pretty real feeling. you can really imagine any random group of people, getting that scraggly and desperate, fighting like that. it's a nice feeling to know that we can all be so united and virile. nice how so many of the fighters are older than me. phew!
ooops, the shower's been on.
well, i suppose i could say no. but the pride starts rising inside me. then the self-shit talk "what, you can't have sex! what an old bitch you are."
but i'm realizing an uncomfortable truth about me. i'm no porn-star god who can just fuck all day and night. maybe i could, with the right combo of drugs. but i just don't want to.
when it comes to sex, i'm like an anaconda. i want to digest my meal slowly. over a few days. then i'm hungry again.
What this guy doesn't know is that every County Hospital in the U.S. will take care of you, free of cost. You may wait a while, but you'll get expert medical care FOR FREE, just for being in this country. They don't tell you that during the big health care debate.
It's gettin stranger. I really think it is.
Props to Dr. Evil for sending this to me.
And really, why shouldn't I pass gas in a drug store?
So I looked for an empty aisle. A quiet place to disperse my personal issue in a harmless fashion.
Then suddenly, out of nowhere two attractive, 20-something women came yapping down my aisle. I turned my back towards their path and tried to look invisible.
As they passed by, cute girl #1 said "Oh my god! Do not breathe."
I felt like I was in the principal's office waiting for a scolding. But they just kept walking. Who could blame them? I had a pretty good defense shield
Sent from a small box of light
he's right. and i'm thrilled about it. i love my life. a lot of people love their lives.
what he doesn't understand yet, is that i don't want his life.
i don't want to be surrounded by endless sycophants and endless money.
i don't want to be bad-mouthed in every bar, office and smartphone in the country.
i don't want to fail, year after year, at the one thing i'm good at.
and i don't want to be trapped by my own "personal problems" in a losing spiral, year after year, with no end in sight.
what i DO like, is this picture. cracks me up.
and of course, it freaks me out. i keep seeing myself in their shoes in 30 years. i'd love to see them ballin! and they ball. they do. but they also tie their shoelaces together and walk through cow shit because they thought it was the quickest route through LA traffic.
ok seriously, here are 10 things my parents do that make their lives difficult.
10. turn every TV on, to maximum volume.
the freeway is quieter than their house. i kinda think they like this one though. it lets them blame the noise instead of failing hearing.
9. ordering take-out.
speaker phone on. TVs blaring. judgment for thick accents set to HIGH. here's an excerpt: "you wan white or brown rice?" "what's he saying? what IS he saying? i can't understand him. why don't you spell what you're saying."
8. visiting their grandkids.
4 hours into visit... "ok, what are we doing?" ... then check for earlier flights. then take earlier flight.
"does plastic go in the compost?" "no, it's not a plant."
"can plastic go in the paper recycling?" "are you kidding? do you know what the fuck you just said?"
6. leaving the house.
mom: "do i need a jacket?"
dad: "what do i know, i'm catholic?"
mom: "well, are you wearing one?"
dad: "i don't know, what's it like outside?"
mom: "how should i know, i haven't been. you were just out!"
dad: "well it might have changed, it's been a while"
mom: "that was 45 minutes ago!"
dad: "gimme a break. (pause) she's always riding me"
5. deciding what to eat next
dad: "you want pasta?"
mom: "again? that's all we eat. you're not gonna make the sauce?"
dad: "you don't want the sauce?"
mom: "it takes too long and makes a mess. how bout chicken?"
dad: "it's so boring. and bland"
mom: "you could add a sauce."
dad: "but if you wanted a sauce, i could've made the pasta with sauce."
mom: "just make some fucking sauce, i don't care anymore."
4. eating pot brownies at a restaurant.
granted, this isn't easy. but breaking into the CIA is easier than eating pot with my parents at a restaurant.
one time my dad screamed out "oh fuck! they're bringing me a goddamn anniversary cake! i hate when they do that shit!"
then he scolded the waiter...
dad: "leave the wine here! we'll pour it. i hate when they do that shit."
waiter: "uh... i'm still here. sorry you hate that so much."
irie dude. irie. pass the dutchie.
3. hating people for no good reason.
these are actual quotes... the people to hate are the ones in italics. i'm letting you know because it took me a while to figure out who the bad people are. and you're new to my family.
-"i can't stand her. she has flat teeth. probably went to Michigan."
-"what am i gonna do, eat calcium? and be one of those calcium eaters!"
-"you should shave that goatee. you look like a fucking contractor."
2. sitting on the couch for more than 0:30 seconds.
0:31 dad: "are we chillin or are we hangin?"
0:36 dad: "ok what are we doin next?"
0:41 dad: "lets see if there are any earlier flights?"
1. taking hallucinogens
0:31 dad: "what am i supposed to do, just sit here? that's it. when does it get trippy?"
0:36 dad: "Ugh! i can't relax. i'm so fucked. i'm so fucked."
0:41 dad: "this is weird"
it didn't start there. it started with an unbelievably talented rookie, playing catcher for the San Francisco Giants. he hit 18 home runs, batted over .300, but more important, he lead them to the world series. there he was the catcher who guided probably THE most successful pitching staff a world series has ever seen.
he's on top of the world. now i can speciluate about what happened next... drugs, women, partying with dude. but that didn't matter. becuase may 25th he tore his left leg to shredds!
all that stuff is lost. i'm just some buddies will try to drag him out for a night, in his big special wheelchair. but buster won't feel right about it. the thrills not there. so he goes home looking for solace, but only finds painkillers and sleep. the sleep is the only thing that takes him away from reality... that it's over.
after a while, he gets on crutches, and starts partying. now that's when it gets dangerous. he hits the clubs like his coming down the thirdbase line... with a vengeance. his posse has to pull the pipe out of his hands. he's either gonna smoke it, or crack some skulls with it.
a suspension greats him in 2012... for use of a banned substance. "what! it was part of my rehab protocol" "i didn't know what they were giving me." sorry, you're name's not barry.
he starts taking some swings in the minors in spring '12, but he's not right. and catching is out of the question. so they start looking at trading him to a the AL as a DH, while he heals. like a loan. but in the end he just bounces around, gimpy and confused.
finally cut by the Hebrew Oilers, he returns home to the farm in Georgia. then drops into a coma of alocholic stupor.
no longer invited to SF Giants events because the alcoholic dementia makes him shout obscenities and ogle asian women (see post) he drifts into anonymity. all the while the devil smiling, because he once again was successful at convincing an athlete to trade their lives for one year of glory.
(btw, i don't know her, she's just on google page 1.)
it's kind of embarrassing. it's like admitting i'm addicted to heroin.
then again, this asian fetish thing is so common it's like the new apple pie. i'm so normal.
but why am i afflicted? is because of the submissive stereotype? if that were the case, then i'd be attracted to bunnies.
pretty easy to get in those pants.
but wait... i am attracted to bunnies! playboy bunnies. no seriously, put rabbit ears on most women and they become insanely gorgeous. it's like pouring ecstasy and viagra all over me.
what's happening here?
i'm attracted to women wearing large ears because that reminds me of a submissive, helpless animal.
then what about harp seals? that is one helpless, mu'fuckin animal.
that's the only picture i could find... and how ironic, an asian woman. well, she's hot but i don't think it's the helpless harp seal on the shirt. ok back to the drawing board.
injured women? shouldn't they be attractive, by this same reasoning?
maybe this whole "submissive asian" stereotype (which is really just another stereotype... not true across the board, but occasionally true for some) isn't the thing that attracts me to asian women.
maybe it's just because they're women... and i am attracted to women.
nah, i think this is just chapter one, of an ongoing saga. searching for the root of my fetish.
Branford Marsalis was right. Early in his career he switched to playing the sax because "you could get ladies with a saxophone".
its amazing how perfect it looks and how cool it sounds. i guess we need the other ones... the oboes, the clarinets, the trumpets. just like we need ditch diggers. but it's pretty clear who the coolest cat on the street is.
i wonder if the sax makes fun of the piccolo. probably not. sax is too cool to make fun of others. but i'll bet that uptight clarinet does.
(props to B. Karza for resurrecting this) but i digress.
here's how you make a light brown, buttery, melt-in-your-mouth grilled cheese experience.
- choose the bread. something traditional... wheat, white, rye. no rolls! no baguettes! no raisin/walnut batards! you need something soft that can soak up butter like a sponge and firms up with heat.
- choose the cheese. i'm a sucker for the classic orange "American" sliced. but swiss and others will do fine, if that's your thing. no gouda! it doesn't melt. no brie or softies! they melt too easily. you'll be scooping it up like snot in kindergarten.
- heat the pan. get it good and hot, about 50% of full.
- make the sandwich. you need 1/4 inch of cheese. preferably with two slices. we'll get to why later.
- when the pan is hot, put 1/8 -1/4 inch slice of butter on the pan. create a bubbly, buttery area, about the same size as your sandwich, in the center of the pan. when the butter is almost melted, put the sandwich right on top of it.
- key move: put a weight on top of the sandwich. something about the same size as the sandwich, like a heavy mug or plate or ceramic ashtray. whatever you got, put it on. you need to smash this thing, a little.
- don't overcook, but don't check too often.
- when it's golden brown on one side, take it off
- turn the heat down to 30%
- put another 1/8-1/4 inch slice of butter on the pan.
- again... create a bubbly, buttery area, about the same size as your sandwich, in the center of the pan. when the butter is almost melted, put the sandwich right on top of it.
- reapply the weight
- take it off when the second side is golden brown
- if it looks good, cut it in half and check the "cheese slice test" (my dad patented this one, but he got blown up by aliens, see post). when you look at the cheese oozing out, if you can't see a line between the individual slices, you NAILED it.
I'm wearing that shirt, on the left! right now! Mr. Bellay... You dress like Dr. Glitter. and I dress like a young 20s software developer.
sorry for you, but i just got some serious self-cred. i might even fantasize about myself.
Bellay, you're so serious looking. rrraaww!
-when a cat bites, you get an infection. dog bites btw, rarely cause infections. (yes, i am a doctor).
-at least 20% of humans are allergic to cats.
-cats sleep half the day
-the other half day, they're mean
-they're hunting the songbird population to extinction (here's an interesting link)
they're basically small tigers. they're figured out (over 2 thousand years) how to behave in order to receive endless care.
- food, medicine, shelter
- grooming, vacations, toys
- people even take 2nd mortgages to pay for cat surgeries
where am i going with this? i mean, it's pretty obvious i have to deal with a cat-pet world. i just wish catowners were a little more objective. c'mon. for a minute. i promise we won't take away your cats.
just put signs on your doors... right under "mahalo for removing your shoes", perhaps "warning, small feline predator inside"
and could you stock the house with allergy medicine? epi-pen too.
and could you stop comparing owning cats to having children?
... i know, that last one's a big one.
But fo real, I'm watching the new Scooby. Newer animation, different voices...
And even a new Velma! She's not the secret hottie we all remember. She's just straight up, sorority-girl, LA-boob job, hot.
I kinda miss how she would hide in that baggy sweater.
Oh and Fred and the anorexic red-head are an item. No subtle tension, they're just goin out
But now they bicker all the time.
I think he's cheating
Sent from a small box of light
time to sort out my head, walk on the beach, remember the simple things.
come back, committed to next season.
there's something wrong with Pau. he ain't right. shut up man! forget it. quit thinkin about it.
i'm gettin on the plane, i'm hittin the beach
one thing i hope for future of basketball in this world...
i hope no one ever, ever says "she/he made the unselfish play and passed it to an open teammate."
passing the ball is neither selfish nor unselfish. passing is part of the game. there's 5 people out there. finding the open person is just what you do. and if you have a shot, you take it. it's not unselfish to pass, nor is it selfish to shoot.
banish that comment forever!
fuck it, i'm gone
dr beach glitter
exhibit A - The Pencil Test
our correspondent on the scene explains...
i don't think the crowd was feeling the Love. her i-know-how-you-feel-girls,-i'm-fat-too vibe didn't play. but besides that, i'm kinda shocked that the Pencil Test is out there. and that women (JLH) are embracing it.
and they're buying the Brazil Butt Lift so they can pass the Pencil Test.
what happened? how did something so taboo (like discussing how fat a woman's ass is) become so mainstream? to the point that JLH is explaining to an interested audience how to pass the test!
i think the answer is that we all know that stuff. and we all know we're happier if we focus on other things. but fuck it. this will sell videos.
exhibit B - Insanity Workout commercials
then my little boy said "that guy has 29 boobies"
now i don't want to make this a blog about cute things my kids say, but actually his comment helped. first of all, it was funny. nice work son. secondly, i can't them from everything. and i have no idea what they'll do with these images. my job isn't to shield them, but to help them think about it and react to it consciously.
and i hardly grew up in a time of innocence and widespread enlightenment. (see exhibit C)
Exhibit C - a way-cool friend just showed me this, from the 1980s "Solid Gold".
Why do I care?
What's my problem?
My problem is that i have this basic belief that news organizations should strive for objectivity. even though objectivity doesn't really exist, they should at least try to eliminate their own observer bias. and comment on their bias as it shows up. this feels fucking important.
but more than that, this magazine STILL seems like it's supposed to be relevant to lots of people. i mean, if this were just some christian rag, or tonight's "young republicans" discussion topic at Bryn Mawr (yea, i said Bryn Mawr)... then who would care. but this is TIME. Time. the people who give you a clock when you subscribe. or an encyclopedia set, for 75% OFF.
we don't all believe in Hell Mr. Time (Morris Day?). we don't even all believe in religion Mr. Day. and of those that do don't necessarily have a "hell" as you describe it.
so this is my question to you? was time always this way? (see a prior post with other wonderful headlines, like...)
is Time just a monster media source who is shameless about their overt christian agenda?
is this a new thing? have they changed? is Time representing part of the culture that's going full-speed in reverse toward a "simpler" time... when christians openly ruled (wherever they did that) and women/children were their servants, and all non-believers (pagans, jews, sexy burning man folk) were cannon-fodder?
i've been thinking on this since january, when local schools held a martin luther king, jr event. around his birthday, children from every public school participate in programs to raise awareness about his life, the lessons we learned, and how that can and must shape our future. some kids wrote speeches and poems. some recited paragraphs about prominent african-american heroes (this part was amazing... the kids were so young but said so much).
it struck me watching children (of all races) who didn't know this history, try to fit it into their worldview. i live in a very diverse area (by that i mean, people with different skin colors and their ancestors place of birth) and my kids are at an age where they notice color/shape/size/smell/sound of all people, but without a fraction of the meaning we attach to those things. suddenly, like we were telling them our dirty secret, they found out that some of them were "different".
it was heartbreaking to hear one boy say about his brother (both are black but have different skin tones) 'back then he couldn't have been my brother because of his skin'.
strange also to wonder what my daughter is thinking when she says "we were slaves" (referring to the jews).
then i heard the story of Chinese Hospital in san francisco, founded this week in 1920. back then they needed a hospital for chinese people, because "white" hospitals refused to care for them. French and German hospitals did too. despite all the arguments that can (and should) be made about the presence of racism today (uh, it's alive and well) it doesn't take this form anymore.
a shift is needed in our discussions about racism. Bill Clinton actually said some interesting things on the subject in his second term, when he wasn't... uh...
anyway, on the one hand the Racism-is-still-tearing-apart-our-society-and-it-still-exists-you-racist-honkey folks need to acknowledge the colossal change that's taken place. the shit directed at some people for even hinting that's it's changed is not helping. and is partly responsible for a system that mixes-up our kids.
on the other hand, the look-how-good-things-are-we-have-a-black-president-so-shut-up crew needs to, well, shut up. sadly, you're probably too narrow-minded to understand how wrong you are, so just don't talk. but comment and we can talk offline.
it's wonderful how much has improved in the past 100 years. we need to celebrate that while somberly remembering what people can and have done. so much has changed in those years. this country has been an incredible place for great violence and great healing.
i went to my son's school seder, a jewish passover "spring" festival, that commemorates our escape from slavery in egypt. we honored the bitterness of slavery and the power of our exodus. but it was completely lacking in animosity towards egyptians, pharoes, and charleton heston. a few years has passed i know (time will make this easier). but i was struck (again! that's like 3 times) that this was an example of how we need to evolve in discussing our checkered past.
Do you remember this one? season 3 started with a bang! in the first episode, a russian spy is in town. same one who tortured our studs back in nam. it's a series of flackbacks, weird torture and "cookie". here's the deal, you say "cookie" to any of these men, and 50 monkey teeth pour outta there asses and the others yell "jackpot" and try to collect all the teeth through there bamboo basket-jails.
i'm specifically focusing on performers with this post. because all performers wrestle with the whole idea of fame/fortune. and i've been a performer for a long time. all performers know that we might achieve ginormous fame... and with that, sick-ass fortune.
here's some more images...
the world has changed though. and here's my point (my only point, sorry.. but it's a good one): you don't need fame anymore to live like a baller. everyone can have a lowered-el camino w/ phat rims, a flat screen, 5 track suits, gold chains and a vacation in bermuda. everyone!*
*some restrictions apply: you must reside in the united states, have a job and are not mentally ill
it's crazy. it throws the whole "fame and fortune" equation into disarray.
and before you start, you know what, fuck you. because i know what you're thinking. you think i'm some bored, white, dad. with a 9-5 job. and all that other republican-vasectomy-steak bullshit.
first of all, jews are not white
second of all, my job starts at 8 muthafucka!
and get out of your head! fantasy baseball means FANTASY. open up your mind and dream. choose you're own adventure. it can be whatever you want it to be.
in honor of the opening day, i found a list of my last 10 FANTASY teams. and i wept for there were no more worlds to conquer.
- sorry for raping you - really. i'm sorry.
- stinky selleck - this is when you have anal sex with tom selleck and he wipes his penis on your mustache area. giving you a "mustache".
- they're so little and cute - a fucked up line from an amazing movie
- kimmy khan black - the words required to find my favorite porn clip in 2006.
- cunny say kay hey - Airplane jive.
- asian con carne - what can i say? its a fetish. it's FANTASY
- i was loved as a child - isn't that obvious
- heavy jew cox - it's not that big, but it's certainly heavy. you'll feel it.
- piss shit fuck - the job description of my favorite organ... the cloaca!
- faggotassfaggot - that's what i see when i look in the mirror.
remember? his big 80's-tough-guy, i-can-handle-torture line was "go spit".
was the director chopping lines in his trailer during that one?
i mean, almost anything would've been better... like
"Fuck yo mamma"
"You muthafuckaz are dead"
"You better kill my ass good, or my ghost is gonna come back and throat-rape you biatches"
i don't know. i'm just going off the cuff. but "go spit"...
then again, it makes brushing fun
Battle: Los Angeles - the review
this was a pretty solid film. there's lots to be said about the movie and it's place in the pantheon of disaster flicks. but lets just start with a moment of appreciation for a movie that satisfied the end-of-the-world-movie checklist.
was i scared? YES
did they have an interesting new slant on "first contact"? YES
was the alien nasty, gross and mean? YES
i really liked the choices they made for filming style. showing us the attack from the 'full-scale, media blitz' perspective that is so common these days. you get the sense that it would feel EXACLTY like that.
the movie had a lot of Blackhawk Down, Hurt Locker, District 9. maybe even video game-ish. the uber-military perspective was a fun addition to the genre. when have we EVER seen a street fight with aliens? it made the aliens seem so vulnerable, despite their technological advantages. so far ahead of us, yet still just a delicate lifeform that can be outsmarted.
Hans, a reader of Enik Rising agrees:
"First, it's a war film, not a disaster film. The fact that it technically takes place in the United States makes it feel like a disaster, but it really does boil down to a standard issue war movie. It could have been set in Iraq and had almost no changes to the storyline."
i've heard people complain that it's just a long commercial for the Marines. maybe. but if it was, so what? it was a good commercial. if the aliens do attack, i hope the Marines are that cool!
and maybe the best thing i can say about it, is that i thought about it for days. whenever i saw a police car, or a helicopter, or a freeway overpass... i got flashbacks. nice. damaged. thank you B:LA.
the one bummer is the lack of people (see prior post) regular pedestrians. getting their asses stomped by aliens. i woulda liked more random bodies and folks hiding in corners. cute ones too! where was the awkward alien/hottie moment?
i don't remember things being like this back in the 80s. granted, i lived in a suburb. where rent-a-cops pulled you over for looking non-white.
but this overcrowding freaks me out when i think about disasters. like a tsunami, or an earthquake, or an alien attack. there's so many goddamned people, it'll just get crazy when this hyperorganized infrastructure-laden society breaks down. even for an afternoon. (see any U.S. disaster from the past decade)
today the power went out at lunchtime and the town when nuts. no one could buy lunch, or shop, or go into any building. so people just sat on the sidewalk. it looked like a bomb threat.
this needs to be represented in disaster movies more realistically. (see post) War of the Worlds had one scene that spoke to this, where Tom Cruise had his car jacked by a mob, and everyone got on a doomed ferry. (i was legitimately scared). but the latest flick, Battle: Los Angeles, didn't convey this very well. there are 20 million people in the LA area... aliens were engaged in a guerilla-style street war with marines... where the hell were all the people?
a) Raging Waters (where the 10 meets the 210 in San Dimas)
b) the LA metro system
c) in their cars eating Quiznos
d) they didn't have a budget for extras.
the answer is probably "e: who really wants to have a bunch of extras in every scene?"
but it would be a good challenge to represent the present state of affairs (that this place is littered with humans) in a disaster genre flick. because we all know it's coming. and i wanna know what to do with all these creepy car-sitters.
by the way, the movie is great! see my review coming later tonight... on ambien!