Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Of Bailin' and Palin

As I sit here drinking my coffee in my favorite "Le Chien" mug from France, a vague desire for this life to end is pestering me. They call it "suicidal ideation" and it has got to be connected to this fucking election. It's looking good for Obama, whom I support and, for reasons that are unclear to everyone, I want to play with his ears. Obama has cute ears, what do you want from me.

Despite how well Obama is looking right now, I have a feeling that McCain is going to swoop down like a vulture and, well, win. This sort of negativity did not evolve without the help of experience. In 2004 I just knew that Kerry was going to win. He didn't, and now we pay the price. The "price" for me includes no small amount of my sanity, a will to live and faith in my fellow man.

But Bush won, and I learned a lesson; the American people (at least half of them) are stupid. Thus, I'm taking nothing for granted. In fact, I'm expecting a McCain win just to desensitize myself against the spectacle. There has never been a candidate, or ticket, more clueless and scary than McCain/Palin.

I've been asked if I "really" support Obama, given that I'm a Socialist Party USA member (until they get around to booting me for supporting the Fist and Rose split) and my politics are far to the left of the brown man from Chicago. The answer is that I really do support Obama. He's not perfect, of course, but he's smart and communicates his ideas well. That alone puts him far ahead of McCain or Bush. Moral scruples help, too. Remember those? I miss the days when we had leaders who didn't have to be told that torture was beneath us and bad. Le sigh.

Beyond the election there are the markets, which are just a joy to watch these days. Capitalism is collapsing, as it tends to do, without government assistance and regulation. Eventually they will throw $700 billion at the banking crisis, but until they do, suck on it Wall Street.

Saturday, September 27, 2008

Prince Swears Off Sex

As everyone knows, Prince is a sexy motherfucker. And his ambiguous sexuality means that anyone can justify trying to bang the son of a bitch. He's a musical genius, to boot. But because Prince is such a fucking weirdo, he recently swore off sex. The man...the man is not well upstairs. But who gives a shit, he's still putting out great music.

Read the exciting story here.

Friday, September 26, 2008

Rain, World of WarCraft and Matt & Megan Tie The Knot

As I write this little missive from the Front, it is raining steadily outside. This weather is a total delight for me; it feels nice to walk in, there is no annoying sunshine to urge me outside, and the sound of raindrops hitting the green copper roof over the stoop is vaguely sad, and inspires feelings of melancholy and nostalgia in me.

When I was 15ish when I took a mail order writing course. Many an evening was spent hanging over my ancient Royal typewriter. I wrote a lot. Our place in Billerica had, and may still have, a large porch. If it were raining, I would take my Royal outside, onto the porch, with the idea of letting the rain and wind inspire me. It didn't, but the memory of typing away on the porch as the rain fell has stayed with me. Even electro-convulsive therapy didn't kill it.

But enough of the finer things, let's talk about getting a warning from Blizzard Software for calling a McCain supporter some nasty names. To whom did this happen? Me! The transcript of what was said is below. I have it because they put it in my warning. I'm "Kam," for these purposes.

Account Action: 1st Warning
Offenses: Harassment Policy Violation - Inappropriate
This category includes both clear and masked language which:
* Is a mildly inappropriate reference to human anatomy or bodily functions
* Is otherwise considered objectionable

Details (Note - Times are listed in Greenwich Mean Time, GMT):
2008/09/24 23:51:26 (GMT) - X says "GO MCCAIN/PALIN YOUR AWESOME"
2008/09/24 23:51:59 (GMT) - Kam says "What a fucking idiot. The Special Olympics in town?"
2008/09/24 23:53:06 (GMT) - X says "im gong to report you, bye bye asshole"
2008/09/24 23:53:46 (GMT) - Kam says "Now you've sworn, as well. Ha! You can report me all you want, but you're still a cunt, a douchebag, and an asshole. Oh, yes, and a fucking idiot, to boot. Deadly combo."

That's about how it went. I needed to get a warning from World of WarCraft, otherwise I'd be afraid I didn't have a pulse. You either talk about your +4 Frost Damage Mace of the Owl or the last episode of Fringe. Generally, I choose to be silent, but this asshole has a limit, baby!


Before I role away, break on through to the other side and do whatever it is I do, I'd like to congratulate Matt & Megan on their nuptials. The photograph below gives you an idea of how beautiful is Megan, and how adorable and affable is Matt, the most gregarious man I've known since Adam Sulkowski. Our regular readers may remember Adam, who teaches some variation on international business law over at UMass Dartmouth and is featured in some earlier posts. He's too busy for me now, what with the end of the financial world and all.

But I digress. This is the best pairing of human beings since, well, they started doing that. In Megan and Matt you have two people who are actually in love with each other. And they kept looking at each other as if they were the last two people on Earth. Naturally, people getting married love each other, but these two are in love. Generally, being in love causes Hellish problems, because it's only going one way. So many people fall in love with someone who simply refuses to do so in return. Or can't.

But M & M are just wonderful for each other and so clearly in love. The wedding was perfect, elegant and simply spot-on in every detail. Methinks it will mirror the marriage in exquisite harmony.

I'm happy they found each other, and that I could be a part of the wedding in a small way by being there. It was memorable because it is not often that one sees love like this, two people so complimentary of each other in so many ways.

Yes, I'm an romantic. You can be an romantic existential nihilist! It comes from listening to Russian music. Anyway, Cheers M&M!

PS- Megan, I have your dress stored in my closet. I only tried it on once. Well, twice. But that's it.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Extreme Pogo Jumping

I'm thinking of a hard-core sport, something to flush out the wimps and poseurs. Extreme pogo jumping, or "expog," is becoming the extreme sport du jour among brave, innovative young men like Pierre Panoyan. In an interview before his tragic first jump near Medicine Hat, New Mexico, Pierre displayed more than a little nervousness as he told an AP reporter, "This may be a big mistake."

As it turned out, he was right.

Expog is a simple sport in theory, but it does require the use of a helicopter with an experienced pilot. The expogger is taken to a height of 3,000 feet, whereupon he or she leaps, sans parachute and holding only a pogo stick, into thin air. No parachute is used because the whole idea of ascending to such height is to slam into the ground with your pogo stick as fast as possible. Again, in theory, the expogger will bound back up to 1,500 feet, then 750, etc.

That critical part of the stunt has never been completed. All 14 people who tried are either dead or, in one case, living a machine-dependant life in a mason jar in the basement of St. Anne's Hospital in Font-du-Lac, Minnesotta. Despite that, the enthusiasts who are dedicated to Expog are a hardy sort. "We're stubborn, landing this move is the most important thing in my life," says Michael Sanders, the world's leading expogger, "...it's who I am."

UPDATE: Michael Sanders was killed earlier today in a bizarre bowling accident.

Monday, September 15, 2008

Another Monday Morning

Our unregulated market economy continues to show near fatal flaws in the absence of functioning regulation, at the very least. What we really need is to put to death, finally, the idea that a free market (laissez-faire) works. It doesn't. Now that the mortgage collapse has spread from Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac into the the banking industry, in a manner of speaking, there will be a lot of talk of the need for more regulation, or no regulation at all. Lehman Brothers is pretty much all done, and the market analysts look terrified.

I enjoy watching the stock market drop. Just as I take great pleasure in hearing about hunting accidents. A wonderful, heart-warming story to me would involve a group of stock brokers or commodities speculators out on a hunting trip together, only to end up trapped in the wilderness, forced to answer the question, "Who do we eat first?" Before they can answer the question, however, a grizzly bear breaks into their camp and tears them all to pieces. Slowly. The hunting capitalist cunts beg for merciful death as the giant bear begins to eat them alive over 28 hours of agonizing pain. Eventually, the bear poops them out near an oak tree.

What I'm trying to say is that I don't like hunters or capitalists. Yeah.

In other news, sad news, it looks like race is going to play a part in this election, moreso than any of us hoped. Race was going to be an issue, no doubt, but I was hoping against hope that as a country we would rise above it; I was wrong. If McCain wins, racism will have played a part, along with other varieties of stupid.

Obama is so far above McCain, and his ridiculous running mate, Palin. It's worth noting that the rest of the world is behind Obama. Our allies are really pulling for us to avoid making yet another stupid mistake. But we all know the reasons that Obama must win, but probably won't.

My politics are left, left, lefty left left of center. I can imagine a violent overthrow of the US government, but I'd prefer a non-violent election. There isn't any point to laughing at Bush or McCain, the jokes on us. Every "accomplishment" of these two twits represents another star in a constellation of mendacity, manipulation, deceit, cruelty, war-mongering, imperialism, classism, ineptitude and greed. Twisted and sick and in need of having their power taken away. Instead, McCain and Palin may very well be standing at the beginning of a political empire. President McCain, with his feeble mind and warped view of things. Not to mention long balls. The eventually (or pretty quickly) President Palin, which her childish attachment to gun games, annoying voice and weak (to non-existent) knowledge of...anything.

They sicken me. Obama is 100 times the human being they are together.

Friday, September 12, 2008

Why Republicans Suck: The Movie

Wondering if you should vote Republican? Here are some reasons, in lovely video form.

Tuesday, September 09, 2008

Notes from Cahill

Recently, I was held in a locked facility in Cambridge, Massachusetts which was designed to hold mentally ill people. This is done, I'm told, to prevent anyone from getting hurt or dying, almost always through suicide. Homicidal behavior is extremely rare, but most of the mentally ill people are keen on committing suicide. To slip away, unseen and unremembered.

Anyhow, that's also why they have no silverware, mirrors, shower heads or any hooks on which one may hang oneself, that sort of thing. This may mean restraints, which are sort of fun, for about 5 minutes. After that, panic. For the most part, people just walk around like normal. Talk. Eat. You know.

The last time I was in one of these places, Called "Cahill House," I spent most of my free time writing like, well, a lunatic. I did most of the writing with a contraband pen. Yay for me!

Here is what I wrote one hot day in July. I told myself at the time that I'd post what I write, but I'll try to spread it out. La de da.

"Looking through any of these windows is a frustrating experience. Not because I'm trying to escape, although being here and not home is deeply upsetting. The problem with the window, however, is a thick mesh screen to keep the nuts in. The windows are also locked and barred. But that damn screen, combined with the heat and humidity, makes it well-nigh impossible to see the city teeming below. The Prudential Building is visible, but barely, because of the screen and hot-fog outside.

I'm in some sort of relaxation room, that's where you'll find the window with a view of the Pru. Keep that in mind if you're ever committed to Cahill 4. There are small plastic boxes, shoe box size, each containing seemingly random objects; sunflower seeds, rice, dry beans, sponges, that sort of thing. Tactile relaxation. If you're stressed, you're supposed to stroke some beans and feel some rice and you'll be as right as rain.

So basically I come into this room to read, because nobody is ever here feeling the beans.

The Men's dorm Shower/bathroom has a good window, but I can't linger in there. I'm in there getting raped enough as it is! Ha! A joke.

Saturday night I could spy a happy looking couple walking down the street, but briefly as I could only look out the window at an angle. He was holding a pizza box, while she laughed heartily at something, and the two of them made their way down the avenue. When she laughed, she touched the young lad's arm. From where I sit right now, it was a little cute and a little sexy, but most importantly it was real. I'm not sure why, but I'm glad I saw it. Romantic nihilism. Gosh."