The Steam Room

Total Random

2006-11-16T08:05:00.000-08:00

I was greatly amused while reading "The Door Into Summer" by Robert Heinlein the other day. Mr. Heinlein wrote the book in the 1950's, about a man who, in 1970, is forced into cryogenic sleep until he's awakened in 2000. He finds a way to travel back to 1970, and has this to say:

"A lot of little things like that I missed very much after having learned in only six months to take them for granted. Shaving--I had to go back to shaving! Once I even caught a cold. That horrid ghost of the past resulted from forgetting that clothes could get soaked in rain. I wish that those precious esthetes who sneer at progress and prattle about the superior beauties of the past could have been with me--dishes that let food get chilled, shirts that had to be laundered, bathroom mirrors that steamed up when you needed them, runny noses, dirt underfoot and dirt in your lungs--I had become used to a better way of living and 1970 was a series of petty frustrations until I got the hang of it again."

Despite this rosy vision of the future, earlier in the book, upon awakening in 2000, our Hero observes, "Nurses had not changed much. This one was reasonably cute, had the familiar firm manners of a drill sergeant, wore a perky little white hat perched on short orchid-colored hair, and was dressed in a white uniform. It was strangely cut and covered her here and uncovered her there in a fashion different from 1970--but women's clothes, even work uniforms, were always doing that."

It's hard to know whether to laugh or to cry at a time when men could imagine that in 50 years we would conquer the common cold and figure out a way around shaving and washing clothes, but never entertain the idea that women might strive for equality in the workplace. It's also kind of funny to see the grand dreams he had for 2000, and to know that while we fulfilled less than 10% of his prophecies, what we DID accomplish would have absolutely thrilled his 1950's soul.

On another note, if you've read my profile you know that I love the movie "The Lost Boys". You may say "Duh, Rebekah, that's just occurring to you now???" but I recently had an epiphany that set me back on my heels a little bit (though will not have any lasting effects, I'm sure, as I still love the movie as much as ever)

The head vampire in the movie is searching for a vampire bride. Tale as old as time. But the reason he wants to take a wife is because his little harem of teenage vampire boys has gotten out of control! The only people he's seen fit to accompany him through eternity up to this point are beautiful teenage boys, who themselves have only recently decided to add a girl (and her brother? I'm not sure how Laddie's related) to the mix, and yet treat her with a measure of indifference. They perk up, though, when she finds the most beautifullest boy of all, Jason Patric. Mmmm....Jason Patric....

It had occurred to me that picking a wife on her motherly capabilities just because she brought a ....lost boy... into his shop showed awfully flimsy qualifications, but it had not occurred to me that he probably picked her for her boyish good looks (her hair is cut very short).

And lastly, I thought I'd share a little Terry Pratchett goodness from the book I'm currently reading, "The Last Continent":

He seemed to pull himself together, focused his gaze on Ridcully, and his huge white eyebrows met like angry caterpillars.

"Begone from This Place Or I Will Smite Thee!" he commanded.

"Why?"

The god looked taken aback. "Why? You can't ask why in this situation!"

"Why not?"

The god looked slightly panicky. "Because...Thou Must Go from This Place Lest I Visit Thee with Boils!"

"Really? Most people would bring a bottle of wine," said Ridcully.

The god hesitated. "What?" he said.

"Or cake," said the Dean. "Cake is a good present if you're visiting someone."

"It depends on what kind of cake," said the Senior Wrangler. "Sponge cake, I've always thought, is a bit of an insult. Something with a bit of marzipan is to be preferred."

"Begone from this place lest I visit you with cake?" said the god.

"It's better than boils," said Ridcully.

"Provided it's not sponge," said the Senior Wrangler.

The problem faced by the god was that, while he had never encountered wizards before, the wizards had in their student days met, more or less on a weekly basis, things that threatened them horribly as a matter of course. Boils didn't hold much of a menace when rogue demons had wanted to rip your head off and do terrible things down the hole.

"Listen," said the god, "I happen to be the god in these parts, do you understand? I am, in fact, omnipotent!"

"I'd prefer that, what is it, you know, the cake with the pink and yellow squares--" muttered the Senior Wrangler, because wizards tend to follow a thought all the way through.

What're you in for?

2006-11-16T08:04:00.000-08:00

Okay, picture this:

Two sinners sit side by side in Hell. The first sinner turns to the second and asks, "So what're you in for?"

"Killing my wife," the second sinner glumly replies.

Sinner #1 whistles appreciatively. "Wow, you're a real piece of work. How'd you do it?"

"I threw her a surprise birthday party. Little did I know she had a bad heart, and the shock killed her."

The first sinner nods sympathetically. "Yeah, those good intentions will get you every time."

Can anybody explain to me the truth behind the phrase "The road to Hell is paved with good intentions"? If your heart and mind are in the right place, can you really be condemned for it? Just wondering. Bible thumpers need not reply. Psalms and such will not be appreciated.

Sweet Christmas Commercialism

2006-11-16T08:03:00.001-08:00

It has now been 1 week since Halloween costumes hit the clearance shelves, and Christmas took over the world. I've spent the last 7 days huddled in my apartment desperately struggling to suppress the rage that threatens to take over and turn me into a rampaging green hulk every time I see a Christmas commercial or program on TV. It's become more and more dangerous to take me out into public, as Christmas displays increase on store shelves.

I don't hate Christmas, I love it. But Christmas season starts after THANKSGIVING!!! Next year I fully expect to start seeing ornaments sometime in September. How special can a holiday be when it's stretched over MONTHS?

Fear not, my friends. I have good news. I've finally found a reason to celebrate the soulless commercialization of this "holy" holiday.

Peppermint Candy ice cream.

The beast is appeased. You can all sleep with both eyes closed tonight. Sweet Peppermint goodness. Don't get the beast started on why it can't have Peppermint Candy ice cream year 'round.

Mmmm...anime

2006-11-16T08:03:00.000-08:00

For years, my best friend has talked about anime...referring to it as getting her "anime fix". And the first thing to come to my mind has been: "Nerd."

Understand, I mean that in the fondest way possible, and this is coming from a girl who likes to dress up in Star Wars costumes.

Well, I have some apologizing to do, as I now have my own anime obsession. The first, and still the best anime series I've watched is InuYasha, or as my mother-in-law desperately butchers it, InuWashi.

Even my husband, who has made an actual hobby of criticizing the shows I watch, loves it. He identifies with Miroku, the ass-grabbing monk. *sigh* He occasionally tries growling at me InuYasha-style, in the hopes that it will work better on me than it does on Kagome. Silly man!

My mother-in-law owes my nephew-in-law an apology. He tried to get her to watch it, but she put him off. I got her hooked when she came to visit us from Texas last month. The last time I talked to her, she asked if I thought the Japanese were putting subliminal messages in the show, as she was also finding it kind of addictive. I told her no, that was Pokemon, and it was siezures.

Check it out, along with DNangel, Mythical Detective: Loki Ragnarok, and Kyo Kara Maoh.

My Little Devil Dog

2006-11-16T08:01:00.000-08:00

For those of you not in the know, I work for a well-known parcel delivery company, and I've been working a route in a very upscale part of town.

Toward the end of my day I had a package to deliver to a house next to the river. In the yard was a large dog--I don't remember his name, so I'll just call him Cujo. As soon as I pulled up to the driveway he took "the stance", alternating between snarling and barking at me. No leash, chain or "invisible fence" stood between us. I hesitated, pondering whether to even bother trying to deliver the package. I wondered, what would I get in more trouble over? Not delivering the package, or throwing it at the dog's head and driving away?

A door opened, and a woman's voice called, "Cujo, stop it! Come here!" The snarling briefly stopped, so I stepped out of my car. The dog spun around and started barking and growling at me again, so I called, "do you want to come get your package?" To which I was told, "Oh, don't worry, he's friendly!"

"Yeah," I thought, "clearly all he wants is a good belly rub."

It was at this moment the dog decided to attack. I believe the owner yelling at Cujo was the only thing that prevented my being bitten. As it was, the dog reared up on me, still barking and snarling, until the owner grabbed his collar.

I wish I could tell you this was the first time this has happened. Train your f*ing mutts, people. Your "friendly" dog takes a chunk out of me, I'll tell you right now you're paying for my medical bills and lost wages.

Fancy-ass Salads

2006-11-16T08:00:00.000-08:00

If I hear the word "edamame" one more time, I swear I'm going to go into a beserker rage. They're soybeans, people. And since when was lettuce, peas, croutons, maybe a little cheese and TONS of ranch not good enough for salad???

Ooooohh!!! I can have SOYBEANS in my salad??? Oh, for the love of God, I've got to get to McDonald's!

Stay-at-home bitches strike again!

2006-07-23T13:01:00.000-07:00

Here's another bullshit article, written by a woman, Linda Stern:

WASHINGTON (Reuters) - Financial advisers have long noted a fear common among their female clients -- the fear of ending up homeless, penniless, alone, and on the street.

It's a fear that stems, at least in part, from the fact that women tend to get poorer when they go through a divorce.

Yeah--no shit. EVERYBODY gets poorer when they go through a divorce. Even men. It's what happens when you divide one household into two, and halve the income funding each of those households.

"Divorced women are swelling the poverty rolls," writes Carol Ann Wilson in an article titled "How to Help Older Divorcing Women Avoid The Bag Lady Blues" in the June issue of the Journal of Financial Planning.

"Why? The courts are trying to split marital property 50-50, yet they traditionally overlook one major asset of a marriage: the husband's career."

No, TRADITIONALLY, the husband's career IS taken into account--it's called alimony, and child support. God damn, I am so tired of this shit! I, for one, am one of the apparently few women who ACTUALLY want equality, not domination over the male half of the species. Over half the students attending college now are female, so clearly we're perfectly capable of finding work that will keep us off the streets--so you're not able to maintain the lifestyle to which you've become accustomed? Too bad, bitch! Divorce is shitty! He's accustomed to getting some tail a few times a week without having to pay for dinner and sit through a chick flick. You gonna make housecalls?

When I rule the world....

2006-05-30T12:36:00.000-07:00

After this weekend, I've decided that when I rule the world, there will be certain people who will automatically be sentenced to a chain gang. I'll add to this list as time goes on, and you can feel free to contribute. If I like your suggestion, you can be a chain gang boss in my New World Order.

1. People who loudly make stupid comments that they think are funny or clever about whatever's on the screen in the movie theater. This includes during previews. Not the pre-preview pepsi and fandango commercials, I could care less about them.

2. Anybody who drives slowly in the fast lane, or on a one-lane road.

3. People who bring their families to the grocery store, fan out across an aisle and then walk really slowly

4. People who park their shopping carts in the middle of an aisle to talk to somebody or even just to browse the shelves

5. People who blow past the food bank donation bin and try to excuse their selfishness--"I don't have enough money": Hey, jerk, a can of peas is like 50 cents! "I don't have any food" (on the way IN): Hey, jackass, nobody expects you to donate food on your way INTO the store!!! Why don't these assholes just come out and say "Sorry, I hate poor people."

6. The losers who think they're so cool/important because they walk around with their cell phone earpiece grafted into their ear--and frequently talk into it while they're at the post office counter, or the checkout.

7. People who get in a turn lane at a stoplight, then decide that they wanted to be in another lane, so they hold everybody up behind them while they try to merge into the lane they want, by which time of course, the light has usually gone red again.

To be continued...

Stupid military time

2006-05-30T12:34:00.000-07:00

I'm taking my clock off military time. I originally set it to military time because I'm prone to waking up thinking it's, for instance, 6 pm rather than 6 am, and panicking because I'm so sure I overslept. With my clock on military time, 0600 and 1800 make it easier to know exactly what time it is.

However.

Despite my having had my clock on military time for a couple years now, I still sometimes have to do a little quick arithmetic (after noon) to tell what time it is.

Jason and I share the car, so he drives me to work at 3 am, a coworker drives me to his job after work (around 9 am) so I can pick up the car, and then I pick Jason up from work when he gets off, anytime between 3:30 and 7:30 pm. Generally by this time I've only had 3-6 hours of sleep, so it's always hard to wake up.

Yesterday I woke up momentarily, glanced at the clock, saw that it was 1445, and panicked. I was SURE that Jason had called me to come pick him up 1/2 hour ago, and that I'd fallen back asleep. I leapt up from the couch, grabbed my phone and called him while throwing on some decent "going out in public" clothes, left a message apologising profusely for leaving him hanging, and was just in the process of trying to figure out just how deep in shit I was, when I stopped, straightened up, and thought, "Wait....WHAT time is it??? 2:45? He can't possibly be off work yet."

He, of course, thought it was pretty funny.

I eventually got back to sleep, and dreamed that I was at work, where Dennis Hopper from "Waterworld" was my supervisor. I woke up realizing that it wasn't far off the truth.

Hickville, USA

2006-05-30T12:33:00.000-07:00

For mother's day this year my husband and I drove to Tillamook to help my grandma with chores around her house. After planting 36 hills of corn and 50 hills of potatos, she asked us to cut a branch off one of the evergreens lining her driveway. The snow this winter broke the branch halfway along its length, and that end was left dangling over her driveway.
Unfortunately, the branch was well up the side of the tree, and the tree sits in a kind of ditch, so Jason had to climb to the top of a stepladder with a saw while my brother Matt, who was also visiting for the day, held the tilted ladder steady.

Here comes the redneck, hillbilly part.

Grandma's neighbor, across the street, sat on his porch the entire time, shouting out suggestions, like "cut from the bottom!", and just generally joining in the "fun". When we finally detached the branch, cut it in half, and dragged the two halves to the burn pile out in the middle of the pasture, "Light it up!" came wafting to us from across the road.

I was too tired to really look at him closely, but I bet he was wearing overalls with nothing underneath, and cleaning his gun out on that porch. Hey, I grew up there, so I can stereotype all I want!

Jason set my libido on high and snapped the control switch right off when he cranked up my grandpa's old chainsaw and made kindling out of some wood grandma had lying around.

Other highlights of our trip were Fred, the domesticated chicken. She (yes, that's right, she) was hand-raised, so she thinks she's entitled or something, and everytime we left the door open for even a minute, she was inside the house like a shot and looking for edibles. We had to dig and plant the corn one hill at a time, to keep her from gobbling up our seeds.

Joe, who's a duck (Muskovie?) is SO vain, he spent the entire weekend camped in front of our hubcaps, admiring himself. No kidding. Every time we got close he'd start bobbing his head and breathing heavy at us, like we were going to take his precious away.

Grandma got her first-ever visit from a mating pair of evening grosbeaks (pretty birds) at her birdfeeder, and I met an old high school classmate at church, which was awkward, because of course while she remembered me by name, all I could do was say "oh, hey......you!" and then introduced my husband to her, but couldn't introduce her to my husband. And I know she knew I didn't remember her, 'cause she immediately introduced HERSELF to my husband, and told him we went to high school together. AWKWARD!!! I'm such a bastard....

Strange but true

2006-05-30T12:32:00.000-07:00

I renewed our car's registration last week, and with the new registration I got my stickers. I thought I'd better wash off the license plate before I put them on, so I tucked everything in the glove compartment, and soon forgot about the tags.

Fast forward to last night. Jason went out to get a game, and returned around 9:30 pm. A responsible driver, he pulled the stickers out to put them on the license plates, but for some reason took a detour to the dumpster first. He returned to apply the stickers, and only realized as he was pressing the second one into place that he had just stickered a stranger's car! He claims that he'd only had 3 hours of sleep up to that point. We drive a black dodge neon. He stickered a green dodge intrepid.

So of course he had to work today, leaving me to explain to a seemingly endless stream of DMV employees and city police staff, right up to the lieutenant, why we had put our stickers on a stranger's car and needed new ones. Most of them were greatly amused. For some reason, the employees at the police station were not. At least, not that they let on.

To put a capper on my morning, I came downstairs to get the stranger's license plate and make/model, to find him standing squarely facing the back of his car, arms crossed across his chest, staring intently at his license plate. Which is AMAZING. If someone restickered my car, I don't care if it was a mickey mouse sticker, I don't think I'd ever notice. I tried to explain what had happened, but he politely informed me that he did not speak english very well. I offered him $10 for the new tags I thought he'd need to get, which he politely refused as he painstakingly removed the errant tags from his plates. I can only imagine what he must have been thinking. I'm SURE "stupid woman" was in there somewhere. I wonder what scenarios he imagined could have led to some white girl (even though IT WASN'T MEEEE!!!!) mistaking his green dodge boat for her black neon sport. Of course, I couldn't even explain that it didn't happen in today's bright sunshine, but in last night's darkness.

Jason OWES me. Big.

Self-righteous stay-at-home bitches

2006-05-30T12:30:00.000-07:00

NEW YORK (Reuters) - A full-time stay-at-home mother would earn $134,121 a year if paid for all her work, an amount similar to a top U.S. ad executive, a marketing director or a judge, according to a study released Wednesday.

To reach the projected pay figures, the survey calculated the earning power of the 10 jobs respondents said most closely comprise a mother's role -- housekeeper, day-care teacher, cook, computer operator, laundry machine operator, janitor, facilities manager, van driver, chief executive and psychologist.

"You can't put a dollar value on it. It's worth a lot more," said Kristen Krauss, 35, as she hurriedly packed her four children, all aged under 8, into a minivan in New York while searching frantically for her keys. "Just look at me."

To compile its study, Salary.com surveyed about 400 mothers online over the last two months

What an objective, bullshit study! First of all, speaking as someone who has worked and been the primary caretaker of a 7-year-old while her father worked nights, I would HAPPILY be a stay-at-home mom. I am so damn tired of the movies that portray mothers and fathers trading jobs for a day and the woman impresses her husband's boss while dad destroys the house with his ineptitude. I'm sorry, but it's just ridiculous. Of course, he always, ALWAYS fills the dishwasher/washing machine way too full of detergent and floods the house with suds...as if, assuming he'd actually never done his own laundry before, this skilled professional would be incapable of READING THE DAMN INSTRUCTIONS ON THE BACK OF THE CONTAINER!

But how about this study? This $134,121 salary is based on a housekeeper AND janitor's salaries? Pick one or the other, I know you ain't both (I've been a "custodian" before, too.)
Computer operator? They want to get paid for surfing e-bay and the QVC website?

LAUNDRY MACHINE OPERATOR??? I wasn't aware there was such a job. It's been my experience that when you go to the laundromat you operate your own machine.

Facilities manager AND chief executive? What does she do as a "facilities manager" that differs from "chief executive"? And considering that chief executives are earning in the millions, doesn't that throw the curve off a little? I wasn't aware you needed an MBA to be a housewife. Silly me.

Let's just ignore the fact that these bitches calling themselves "chief executive" is a gross insult to their husbands, who are, apparently, just another child in the household, incapable of contributing anything.

And Psychologist? Again, it's an insult to everyone who's gone to school for 8 years to really be a psychologist. From what I've heard, mothers do more damage to psyches than just about anybody else.

I'm surprised these paragons of virtue don't want to get paid for taking a dump and flushing the toilet when they're done--wonder how much waste removal specialists get paid?

Bottom line is, unskilled labor gets paid just above minimum wage. Period. Nobody has ever needed a college degree to be a stay-at-home mom, they just need an instinct for marrying wealthy men.

I'm sorry, but nobody in the history of the world (until now) has ever expected to get PAID for popping out some kids and then taking care of them! Or keeping their house clean! You know what? Anyone who has a dwelling-space, whether they're male or female, parents or not, spend a portion of their time grocery shopping, cooking, doing laundry, and cleaning house. Get over yourselves, you lazy, self-righteous, ungrateful bitches!

Star Wars bunnies

2006-05-30T12:29:00.000-07:00

AAAAAHHHHHAAHAAHAHAAAA!!!!!!! This is hilarious!
http://www.angryalien.com/1205/starwarsbuns.asp

South Park's misguided faith in America(ns)

2006-05-30T12:28:00.000-07:00

Last week, "South Park" won a Peabody award http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20060406/tv_nm/televisionj_southpark_dc_1

A hot headline in the news today was "has South Park finally gone too far?"
After recent events in Europe, Comedy Central refused to allow South Park to depict Muhammad in their show. On this issue, at least, the terrorists have won.

So South Park depicted Jesus defecating on the President and the American Flag. And old white guys are up in arms. Unfortunately, the guy who was called to defend South Park in the debate I saw was another old white guy. So all he could do was defend the right to free speech--which is a good and valid defense, but doesn't begin to touch on the hypocrisy of those calling for South Park's demise.

Has it occurred to ANYONE that Parker and Stone were making a point? That while in islam you can't so much as draw a picture of Muhammad without being killed, here in America you can show Jesus crapping on the President and the flag, because America is a land of tolerance and freedom? I would take it a step further, believing that Parker and Stone are not idiots. I'm sure they knew that this would cause a public outcry calling for the end of tolerance and freedom (which is what I saw on t.v. today). So what, really, is the difference between us and them? We've not had time yet to see if some evangelical nut is going to try to kill them, or set fire to their homes, but I wouldn't be surprised if a few do.

So to all you old white guys, uber-conservatives and religious nuts: LIGHTEN UP!!! Take a step back and learn to judge yourself first. I find a lot of what you say INCREDIBLY offensive, but I don't try to shut you up. This is (or was) a land of freedom, so suck it up! Or join the Taliban...they let you be intolerant to your heart's content.

Dirty sex maniacs, all

2006-05-30T12:26:00.000-07:00

I feel really sorry for gay people. I mean, they've had to push their sexuality to bring the issue of acceptance to the fore, but I think that may have backfired on them. Over and over I see, in the media and in private conversations, the perception that gay guys are just dying to do anything with a dick, and lesbians can't wait to...make out with....anything with a vagina. Look, they're gay, not sluts (well, not all of them, anyway).

I was watching "Mind of Mencia" tonight, where he talked about a criminal being pursued on foot by the police. He had a knife in his hand, so he cut off his penis and threw it at an officer. Mencia made a joke that a gay officer would turn around and bare his ass to receive it. I don't know about you, but I think I'd be offended if someone implied that because I like guys, I would eagerly spread my legs for any dick, even a severed one.

Okay, on the flip side: gay people! I don't need to know that you're gay! Unless I try to hook you up with somebody, or invite you to go to a strip joint, I don't really need to know what it is you like to screw. I don't go around introducing myself by telling people what I'm interested in screwing. I just don't feel my sexuality has any bearing. If you don't want your sexuality to have any bearing, QUIT MAKING IT A CRITICAL PART OF YOUR IDENTITY!!! Just as I eventually found out that my best friend has a weakness for pansy-type blonde boys (whereas I have a weakness for tough, manly brunettes (can guys be brunettes?)), if I hang around you long enough I will eventually learn that you're gay. Let it happen naturally, for god's sake!

Those crazy Islamists

2006-04-03T15:31:00.000-07:00

So I read today on Yahoo! news that Egypt's new Grand Mufti (heehee!) has issued a fatwa ("forbidden under Islam") against the display of statues, because they lead to idolatry.

So Egyptians now are scared that fundamentalists will destroy ancient egyptian statues and temples. Their fears are not, I think, unfounded.

Apparently his predecessor, Wasel, wasn't much better:

"Wasel slapped a fatwa on watching solar eclipses and another on bullfights, but refused to support rights activists in their campaign to outlaw female genital mutilation."

I think if I were Muslim, these would DEFINITELY be my embarrasing redneck cousins. You know, the Amish don't believe in mirrors or photographs, either, but at least they don't go around blowing things up like a toddler having a tantrum. I'm just sayin'.

Bloody sensitive blighters

2006-03-29T00:06:00.000-08:00

I recently read in the news that Great Britain has lifted a ban on an Australian tourism ad that included the question "Where the bloody hell are you?"

Apparently the word "bloody" was considered to be offensive by some, but the ban was finally lifted because common sense prevailed.

Desperate not to be left out, however, now the AFA (American Family Association) has launched a campaign against the ad. Says AFA director of special projects, Randy Sharp, "I guess they use it all the time in Australia, but it's a foreign language here so I think it'll have a negative impact rather than positive."* WAY TO BE CULTURALLY TOLERANT!!! (and since when is "australian" a foreign language??? That would have been nice to know when I was slogging my way through French for my high school foreign language credit)

And just to make sure they don't miss out on the fun, "now Canadian authorities are unhappy with the way the ad portrays the drinking of unbranded beer".*

Ummm...have they all forgotten there's a war on? Surely their efforts would be better spent protesting either for or against THAT? Are we really that overly-sensitive and bored???? I mean, if they don't want to hear the word "bloody", shouldn't they resolve to end the war, one way or another?

Sharp went on to say, "When you think 'bloody' in America you think the red liquid that flows from human bodies which is usually a sign of some kind of violence,"

Tourism Australia contact details will be made available to AFA members.

"They will hear from a lot of our members who are going to be insulted," Mr Sharp said.*

Wow, there are just so many things WRONG with this!!! First of all, you know that the AFA is going to make sure that as many of its members get offended by the ad as possible. So who's really at fault? And are they aware that they're creating MILLIONS of dollars worth of publicity for the Australian ad campaign? Second, the ad debuted during an episode of "Lost," which show, correct me if I'm wrong, began with an incredibly BLOODY, grisly scene of a plane crash, bodies littered all over the beach. And again, if the concept of violence and bloodshed is so abhorrent, shouldn't they be directing their efforts toward BRINGING OUR BOYS AND GIRLS HOME??????? Just a thought.

They can't honestly be offended by the word "bloody" as a form of profanity. That's just stupid. Name me one rap star who uses the word "bloody" in his songs as profanity. If you can actually name one, I bet he gets swirlies and his lunch money stolen every day by the bigger rappers.

*
"US next to Yank bloody ads" By Peter Mitchell in Los Angeles

For God's sake, don't call him "Marie"

2006-03-25T00:27:00.000-08:00

I think one of the biggest, ass-kickinest, underappreciated American heroes (he received honorary citizenship in 2002) of all time has got to be the Marquis de Lafayette, better known to his parents as Marie-Joseph-Paul-Roch-Yves-Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de La Fayette. No wonder he kicked so much ass, with a name like "Marie".

Just to make him tougher, his dad died when he was 2, his mom died when he was 12, and his grandfather died a few weeks later. So at 14 he joined the damn ARMY, and at 19 proceeded to save America. Clearly, however, his seed did not take root in France. I think you know what I'm talking about.

He even took the high road on slavery, urging Washington to free his slaves, writing "I would never have drawn my sword in the cause of America if I could have conceived thereby that I was founding a land of slavery."

So read about him here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marquis_de_Lafayette

Then, in honor of this man's man, go ahead and call your food by its proper name...have a french dip with a side of french fries.

God bless those clever japanese buggers

2006-03-21T14:42:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I go to a restaurant and just order dessert, because A) it's cheaper and B) by the time I finish a meal I never have room for dessert so C) I don't often get fancy desserts.

So I was recently in Illinois visiting my brainiac friend (who will one day conquer the world), and she took me to a japanese restaurant. She's lived in Japan several times, so she wanted to share. Everything on the menu was REALLY expensive, and most of it involved obscure sorts of seafood, so I decided I'd try banana tempura (after being assured that though there was squid tempura (I think it was squid...it was some kind of icky fish) on the menu, it didn't mean bananas and fish, but rather "tempura" meant "fried", so it was fried banana served with ice cream) It was good, though a very small serving, and they'd also added just a drizzle of honey. I've discoverd to my delight that it doesn't need frying to be good! I'm sitting here now with a banana in its nearly natural state (no peel), a scoop of ice cream and a drizzle of honey. Delicious!!! Give it a try!

I don't know how genuinely japanese it is, given that my friend says the japanese really haven't mastered the art of ice cream, and generally hold dairy products in some contempt as the foodstuff of infants, not sane adults. That's fine with me, though! I also understand that the chinese food I enjoy so much isn't really genuinely chinese, but more americanized. I can live with that. Just don't take away my sweet 'n sour!

SUV bastards

2006-03-09T05:13:00.000-08:00

I think I've already made my feelings on the subject of large trucks and SUV's pretty clear, but here's yet another reason to hate them, and it happens all the time.

I'm going to the game store to pick up a game for my husband, and it's raining cats outside. With the wind, I think it qualifies as a hurricane. There's one empty spot in front of the store, and unfortunately, it's squeezed between two monsters: An SUV, and a huge pickup truck. I pull in, crack my door open as much as I can without hitting the SUV on my driver's side, squeeze my body out of the car, then sidestep my way to the sidewalk.

A couple minutes later I'm squeezing my way back into my car, and I'm ready to back out. Of course, I can't see a damn thing to my right or my left besides side panels, so I steel my nerves and start backing out--slowly, 'cause I'm afraid I'm about to back right into someone's path. I get far enough out that my confidence starts to return. By now, if there's anybody coming, they can see that I'm backing out, and surely they can see that I obviously can't see over the monsters I'm sandwiched between.

A horn blares out. I slam on my brakes, and the oncoming car drives around me.

Okay, so who am I more pissed at? The bastards who feel it necessary to consume more than their fair share of fuel, produce more than their fair share of pollutants, take up more than their fair share of parking space and who will probably crush my car should we ever collide because god knows their kids are more precious a cargo than mine?

Or am I more pissed at the asshole who saw me backing out slowly but couldn't wait for two damn seconds to let me get out?

If either of these two types of people is you, all I can say is get bent.

The Victorian (Elizabethan?) finger

2006-03-04T21:47:00.000-08:00

My husband and I finally watched the new "Pride and Prejudice" movie today. Call me an uncultured swine, but it was my first time. I'd caught snatches of a miniseries on PBS, but never knew what was going on. And no, I've never read the book.

What struck me, and I noticed it also in "An Ideal Husband", is that "back then" they had much fancier, cleverer, flowerier (yes, I'm sure that's not a word...) ways of saying f--- you. It was awesome! I'd find myself wishing for the old ways, but then I remember that a girl was screwed without a man. So I guess those days still sucked, but in a fancier, more polite way.

Golf is not a sport

2006-02-21T19:31:00.000-08:00

Golf is not a sport, people. Neither, for that matter, is fishing, hunting, poker, or bowling. Anything that my 80-year-old grandmother or any other middle-aged to elderly person can do is NOT a sport! Game, sure. Hobby, yeah. If it's not fairly common, in the normal course of the activity, for someone to injure themselves, it's not sport. End of discussion.

For good measure, a poem

2006-02-19T09:44:00.000-08:00

Just because I AM feeling so blue, I'll indulge: Poet, unknown, but probably gleaned from "Dear Abby" or "Ann Landers":

Around the corner, I have a friend
In this great city that has no end
Yet the days go by and weeks rush on,
And before I know it, a year is gone.
I never see my old friend's face,
For life is a swift and terrible race.
He knows I like him just as well
As in the days when I rang his bell...
...and he rang mine.

Yes, of course, we were younger then,
And now we are busy, tired men.
Tired of playing a foolish game,
Tired of trying to make a name.
"Tomorrow," I say, "I will call on Jim
Just to show that I'm thinking of him."
But tomorrow comes and tomorrow goes
And the distance between us grows and grows.
Around the corner!--Yet miles away.
"Here's a telegram sir--Jim died today."
And that's what we get and deserve in the end.
Around the corner, a vanished friend.

melancholic

2006-02-19T09:34:00.000-08:00

I just finished reading "Thomas the Rhymer", and while it was a fairly good book, I'm left stewing in melancholy. Most of the time I feel I have little to bemoan, but today I remember a childhood friend who left, promising to write and never did; a friendship sworn to last over the miles but whose end I can foresee. A friend, once a rock for me to cling to when I needed, now himself lost and unsure, and I all unknowing how to be a rock myself; a friend who might have been, but won't relax enough to try.

So I'll turn my thoughts to what is, not what was or might have been, wish well those whose paths I'll never again know, and store them away like so many faded souvenirs, to weep over another day.

V-day

2006-02-16T17:15:00.000-08:00

Allright, so this is a few days behind, but I had a nice Valentine's day....how was yours?

I bought an "intimate" for Jason, but I ordered it online and it turns out that I'm smaller than I thought I was (Yaayyy, I'm smaller. AAAGHH, I just spent $45 on an "intimate" that's too big, and I can't return it!), so my gears started turnin'. What do you get men BESIDES intimates for V-day?

I bought him a beautiful statue of a man and woman embracing, and made him a little scrapbook all about how much I love him. Put the statue and the scrapbook in one gift bag, marked "Love", and the useless "intimate" in another, marked "Lust" (it's the thought that counts, right? I'll get him another one...eventually).

So maybe it wasn't such a great V-day for Jason. He got a bunch of mushy crap and an "intimate" he'll never get to enjoy. He definitely outdid me. I came home from work to a planter of tulips, a box of chocolates, a card that nearly made me cry and lasagna fixin's in the kitchen, as well as strawberries and whipped cream. He made lasagna for me the first time I met him, and I've always remembered that night fondly, so it was pretty romantic, really. To make it up to him, I spent all day cleaning the house, which went over well when he came home. *sigh* Ah, l'amour. Have I mentioned how much I love my husband? I already can't wait for next V-day. (nor can he, probably, since next year I'll make extra-sure he gets an intimate that fits)

Poseidon agony

2006-02-10T10:10:00.000-08:00

Maybe there's a little snob in me, but every time I see that Hollywood has remade a classic old film, I get an itch to see the original. I guess I think that no remake could ever be as good as the original, though it would be hard for "Poseidon" NOT to improve on "The Poseidon Adventure." I watched it last night. At least, I tried to. Half an hour into the movie, I think Roddy McDowall's character was the only one I didn't wish an incredibly painful death on, and they killed him. I have something special in mind for that "plucky" little kid: "hey, sis!" "watch out, sis!" "what's wrong, sis?" I'm sure he was meant to be cute, but all I can say is that my little brother can thank his God in heaven that he never tried that cutesy tone of voice with me. And how did all the young women lose their skirts and end up prancing around a sinking ship in their under-britches? The old, fat lady managed to keep from losing her skirt, I noticed. Ech. Thumbs down.

The Bad News Bears, on the other hand. Walter Matthau was perfect in that role. It was absolutely a fantastic movie. I was curious to see what they could do with it, especially after having seen Billy Bob Thornton in "Bad Santa". I got pretty excited. Instead, they literally copied the original. It was the same damn movie, with different actors. Why the hell did they bother?

SUV sissies

2006-02-07T09:58:00.000-08:00

On my way home today, I got stuck behind a huge white monster of an SUV while turning into my apartment complex. We arrived at the first set of speed bumps, and slowed nearly to a halt. This happens every time I get behind a really big truck or SUV in our parking lot. Why is that? Cars and vans get over those speed bumps at a respectable speed, so what's the problem? I thought that was why these people bought those pollution-factories in the first place. Am I to understand that all that marketing to the mountain-climbing, arctic-exploring, moon-voyaging, base-jumping public has been wasted? Can it be that what people really want their enormous parking-unfriendly behemoth to do is haul their sleeping children and ailing grandmothers around? Lord, I hate trucks and SUV's.

Perry Mason: 2010

2006-02-06T11:59:00.000-08:00

I'm sitting here at home, working on my computer, the TV turned on in the background. An episode of Perry Mason just wrapped up with him clearing a May/December bride of murdering her aged spouse, and suddenly I'm hearing that awful theme song AGAIN. Another episode. How is this show still on the air? Does anybody watch it? Hasn't anyone who cares to watch it seen every episode by now? Every episode is in black and white, which means this show originally aired in--what--the late fifties? Early sixties? (After some brief research, I found that it debuted in 1957 ) Isn't it about time we retired old Perry and moved on to another crappy daytime show? Or even a different crappy b&w show? Dark Shadows, perhaps?

Seahawks vs. Stealers

2006-02-06T11:47:00.000-08:00

I watched my first Super Bowl today. It may have been the first football game I've watched all the way through. Normally, I avoid football with passion, but my husband's team made it this year, so we went ahead and had a Super Bowl party with some friends of ours.

I didn't know the difference between a punt and a kick, but even I could tell that the Seahawks were robbed.

MVP=the refs. The STEALers couldn't have done it without ya!
It was the REFS beating the tar out of the SEAHAWKS. Pit didn't win jack.

Independance day

2006-02-06T11:46:00.000-08:00

More from my "archives":
--In 1964, Ernest Hemingway's little brother, Leicester, started his own country on an 8-by-30 floating bamboo platform off the coast of Jamaica, anchoring it to the ocean floor with a Ford engine block.
--Giorgio Rosa, an Italian engineering professor, built a tower in the Adriatic Sea with a restaurant, bar and post office and declared independance from Italy. The Italian government ignored him at first, but after a while it invaded the tower and blew it up.
--In the late 1960's, Zambia launched its own space program headed by Edward Muka Nkoloso. Nkoloso, who often wore a red-and-green Superman-style cloak, instituted a training program consisting of rolling down hills in oil drums and a special tree-swinging method of simulating weightlessness. But Nkoloso's program began to fall apart because of problems with his 10-person astronaut corps. "Two of my best men went on a drinking spree and haven't been seen since," Nkoloso mourned. Another joined a local tribal song and dance troupe and a fourth got pregnant and quit. But Nkoloso refused to give up. In 1969 he said, "Perhaps the Americans would like to join me in my space program. I'd be most happy. But let's get one thing straight. I step on the moon and hoist the Zambian flag first."
--David Owen, a writer for the Atlantic Monthly, claimed possession of the sun. To back up his claim, he wrote a letter to the U.S. State Department asking for official recognition. "The sun should now be referred to as the Solar Atlantic Empire," he wrote, "and I, henceforth, will be known as Lord High Suzerain of Outer Space." The State Department wrote back saying that it was unable to consider his application.
--An Iowa State University math professor has proposed to change the tilt of the Earth's axis by blowing up the moon. Alexander Abian blames many of the world's climatic calamities and natural disasters on the Earth's 23.5-degree tilt, which is caused, in part, by the gravitational pull of the moon. Other ideas he entertains: "lassooing" the moon and landing it in the Pacific Ocean or "reshuffling" the universe by eliminating some of the planets from the solar system.
--Printed in "The Oregonian"
--Police in Oakland, Calif., spent two hours attempting to subdue a gunman who had barricaded himself inside his home. After firing 10 tear gas canisters, officers discovered that the man was standing beside them, shouting out to give himself up.--Universal Press Syndicate

Psycho cat

2006-02-06T11:34:00.000-08:00

As I stepped out of the shower today, I realized that my cat Anya isn't a Buddhist, after all. As an atheist myself, I should have known better. She's got serious mental problems. Not only does she have at least one schizophrenic personality (the dog), she's obsessive-compulsive, as well. That explains why she begs to be fed her canned cat food every time we come home, why she waits, after the bowl has been set down, for at least two pets before she digs in. Any time she sits on our lap, she must first knead it 50 or 60 times, and any time she uses the litterbox, she feels compelled to yowl about it for about a minute and a half. It was her shower routine, though, that finally made me recognize her sickness. Jason and I generally shower together, and Anya will wait patiently by the bathroom door for us to finish. As soon as the water shuts off, she jumps on the toilet lid and demands to be loved. If one of us should step out of the shower early, she remains by the door with her ears back, irritated that she can't come in to get her love while the water's still on. She does't seem to mind the water, as we're usually dripping all over her when we get out.
I blame myself, of course. The signs were all there, I just couldn't see them for what they were. Hopefully now we can get her the help she needs.

Shrinks and elephants

2006-02-06T11:32:00.000-08:00

When I was young, before I had better things to do (actually, I don't know that I DO have better things to do...I think I just got lazier with age), I was a big crap-collector. I've got a whole book full of things I cut out of newspapers, poems I enjoyed, stuff like that. It's fun to go back through and read it, sometimes.

"Hmmm. Not too fond of shrinks, are they?

In its 1995 session, the New Mexico Legislature approved new guidelines for psychologists who testify in court. Senate Bill 459 required that:
When a psychologist or psychiatrist testifies during a defendant's competency hearing, [he or she] shall wear a cone-shaped hat that is not less than 2 feet tall. The surface of the hat shall be imprinted with stars and lightning bolts. Additionally, a psychologist or psychiatrist shall be required to don a white beard...and shall punctuate crucial elements of his testimony by stabbing the air with a wand.
Before such experts can take the stand, the bailiff shall contemporaneously dim the courtroom lights and administer two strikes to a chinese gong.
Both the Senate and House passed the bill-but New Mexico Gov. Gary Johnson vetoed it. --Dispatches"

--Printed in "The Oregonian"

Q: What's gray, has four legs and a trunk? A: A mouse going on vacation

Q: How do you make an elephant fly? A: Start with a 3-foot zipper...

Q: What's gray and white on the inside and red and white on the outside? A: Campbell's Cream of Elephant soup.

Q: How do you know if you pass an elephant? A: You can't get the toilet seat down.

Q: How do you make a dead elephant float? A: Well, you take 10 dead elephants, 10 tons of chocolate ice cream, 5 tons of bananas...

Q: What's the difference between a sorority girl and an elephant? A: About 40 pounds

Q: Why do ducks have flat feet? A: From stamping out forest fires

Q: Why do elephants have flat feet? A: From stamping out flaming ducks

Q: Why don't they allow elephants in public swimming pools? A: They might let down their trunks

Q: How do you stop an elephant from charging? A: Take away his credit card

Q: Why shouldn't you go into the jungle between 3 am and 4 am? A: Because that's when elephants are jumping from the trees

Q: Why are pygmies so short? A: Because they go into the jungle between 3 am and 4 am

Q: What's that red stuff between elephants' toes? A: Slow pygmies

Q: What do you get when you cross an elephant and a rhinocerous? A: Elephino!

Q: What is more difficult than getting an elephant into the back seat of your car? A: Getting a pregnant elephant in the back seat of your car

Q: What is more difficult than getting a pregnant elephant in the back seat of your car? A: Getting an elephant pregnant in the back seat of your car.

"They couldn't hit an elephant at this dist--" --General John Sedgewick's last words, uttered during a U.S. civil war battle, 1964

--Printed in "The Oregonian"

AOL needs better lawyers

2006-02-06T11:31:00.000-08:00

Yeehaw. AOL won 5.3 million dollars in a lawsuit against Chris Smith, who sent BILLIONS of spam e-mails. I think AOL users would have been better served if the settlement had included voucher tickets, each good for one kick to his nadgers. Screw the money. They'll never get the money. Let's help this bastard in not procreating.
AOL definitely needs better lawyers. CIS Internet Services in Iowa won 11.2 billion--yes, that's right, billion. I thought it must be a typo, so I ran another search--against James McCalla, who sent a measly 280 million spam e-mails. Oh, and he can't get on the internet for 3 years, as if that's gonna sting compared with owing 11.2 billion dollars.
Compare with that Chris Smith, who actually managed to piss off the judge: "Hilton issued a summary judgment in favor of Dulles-based AOL after Smith "refused to participate in this case, willfully disregarding ... discovery obligations and failing to comply with multiple court orders," according to the judge's order.
Court records show that Smith's lawyers withdrew from the case several months after it was filed." --MATTHEW BARAKAT, Associated Press Writer
He didn't even have lawyers, and AOL couldn't get even $1 per spam e-mail? CIS got $40 per e-mail. Step it up, AOL! And remember what I said about the voucher tickets.

Oh, and while I'm on the subject, what does it say about our system that spammers (while certainly vile) get fined billions of dollars, while Enron's executives who, let's not forget, ruined countless lives for their own profit, still have all their money? Time for me to get a passport.

Overpaid Professionals

2006-02-06T11:30:00.000-08:00

Damn. I should be studying medicine. I would love to make $400 an hour. Jesus, I've been sick for 7 days now, so my employer is getting tetchy, and it would have been nice to bring back a note from "my doctor", but I just couldn't afford it. My friends and family have had this bug, so I know all I need is lots of rest and fluids, and that's exactly what the doctor would tell me. She'd see me for MAYBE 15 minutes (probably closer to 5 or 10), tell me to go home and rest, then bill me for at least 100 bucks. I don't think I'd care so much if she prescribed me sugar pills, or shot me in the ass with saline, I just want to feel like I've gotten my money's worth! At that rate, they should be sending a limo to my house to fetch me for my appointment.

2006-02-06T11:25:00.000-08:00

Anya must have been a great dog in her past life, 'cause now she's a cat. All the cushy digs, none of the work. I'll bet she was worried at first, though. I can just imagine her, when she found herself barely reborn, deposited in a cardboard box on the side of the road with her brother: "Oh, what the hell--! THIS isn't what I was promised!! Someone's gonna HEAR about THIS."
When we adopted her, I named her Anya (after Anastasia, a WB movie, I believe). She was a bedraggled orphan, and I intended to make her a princess. A princess she is, but also a hussy. Too much coddling, my husband says, is why she prefers to lie on her back as much as possible. That's how I cradled her as a kitten, and she's lost none of her clinginess. She would laugh at the idea of someone not wanting an Anya on their lap at all times.
We were awfully surprised when she tought us to play fetch. I don't remember the first time it happened, but from past experience, I think she must have carried one of her toys to us in her mouth, dropping it at our feet and looking at us expectantly. One of us threw it, and found it back at our feet seconds later. Thus we discovered that we would tire of playing fetch long before she did. When she got REALLY excited, she would open her mouth and pant. Yup. Like a dog.
Still, we were not prepared for the first time she was startled by someone horsing around on our private stairwell. She froze, and we were astonished to realize that the low-throated growl was coming from her. I think she must have been a pit-bull. She's certainly taught our other cat, Turtle, not to hiss at Jason (Jason gets hissed at because he's the one who holds him down for shots, medicine, or nail-clipping). The first time Turtle hissed at him, he was being scruffed by Jason, who was standing. Anya came flying around the corner, taking a leap at Turtle, whom she missed. The moment Jason put Turtle down, she chased him through the apartment and into the bedroom, trotting out a few seconds later with a tuft of Turtle's fur in her mouth. NOBODY messes with "daddy". Turtle tried it one other time, and got the "Anya smackdown" again.
She's awfully forgiving, considering that "daddy" didn't even want her. At least, not for the first 24 hours. He's a sucker for a pretty face, though. And it was my birthday. Best birthday present I ever got.

poseur

2006-02-06T11:21:00.000-08:00

My aunt and I have an interesting relationship. She's a Methodist pastor, I'm an atheist. She doesn't remind me regularly that I'm doomed to go to hell, and in return, I help out occasionally at church. Mostly Jason and I show up to help cook spaghetti, wash dishes, or serve at the annual spaghetti feed, make a donation and call it good, but now she's roped me into helping with the church newsletter. First she just wanted me to write a story about our Star Wars costuming group. Suddenly she's showering me with praise and begging me to edit the newsletter. I'm a sucker. Here's what I wrote yesterday. I think it's a little over-the-top cheesy, so if anyone reads it, maybe you can tell me whether she's blowing smoke up my skirt.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
By 11:30 p.m., the line for the midnight release of "Star Wars: Episode III" toys at Toys 'R' Us stretched across the front of the building and wrapped around the side. Our Star Wars costuming group arrived early to dress and prepare for the event. Once dressed, we ventured outside to meet those whom we assumed must be the biggest "Star Wars" fans in Portland.
We were received with mild enthusiasm and a number of camera phones. Once we shook hands and posed for pictures with everyone who was interested, we made our way back into the store to await the midnight opening. We had, positioned by the entrance, a bin which Toys 'R' Us had generously emptied for our use, with a sign reading "Donations for Doernbecher Childrens Hospital, Thank you." Some of our members stood by this bin, while others stood near the toy displays. Midnight had arrived. The doors opened.

Chaos ensued.

While it was true there were many avid "Star Wars" fans, it was hard to tell whether they were better or worse than the E-bay merchants, who were also there en force. Toys 'R' Us set up a table with sealed boxes full of toys, with the intent that the E-bay merchants could buy their toys in bulk. The contents of each of three lots were spread out on a table to view, but as soon as the employees heads were turned, people just grabbed the toys they wanted off the table and moved on to the displays.
Stormtroopers were pushed aside as the customers who reached the displays first swept the contents of entire shelves into their shopping carts, to pick through later at their leisure. One stormtrooper watched as a father and son's requests from the back of the crowd, for someone to pass them the one figure the son came to purchase, fell on deaf ears.
Another noticed a customer pluck a toy from a distracted shoppers basket, placing it in his own cart. This so offended the sensibilities of the Empire's enforcer, he followed the customer and took the first opportunity to pluck the toy back out of the cart unnoticed. He then returned it to the basket from whence it was abducted, neither shopper the wiser.
Hundreds and even thousands of dollars were changing hands in single transactions that night. Regardless of several announcements over the speakers that our group was there to collect toys for the kids at Doernbecher Childrens Hospital, and the simple gift of bubbles was ideal, the contents of our collection bin remained sadly meager. Most of what we had came from the generous employees, who were surely not earning much more than minimum wage. We decided to move the bin between the cash registers and the exit door in hopes of increasing its visibility, but it made little difference.
I will admit that I had become thoroughly disgusted with the whole endeavor when an excited Toys 'R' Us employee approached those of us standing at the collection bin. She said there was a young boy who would be coming through the checkout soon, who would be donating a stuffed Yoda toy, and would we please pose to have our picture taken with him? She explained the boy had been saving his allowance for weeks in preparation for the toy release, but when his father had explained that the donations we were asking for were going to sick children, the boy decided to use part of his allowance to buy the Yoda doll, because "Yoda is wise." We quickly rallied the troops for the picture, and though he may not have known it, that night the boy had an entire squad of imperial stormtroopers, biker scouts and bounty hunters wrapped around his little finger.
Amid the chaos and greed of the other shoppers, this little boy's compassion and charity brought me nearly to tears. It occurred to me strongly in that moment that he illustrated, in more powerful a way than I have seen before or since, the reason Jesus suffered to redeem us, dying for our sins, the reason we enjoy God's love rather than suffer his wrath. There are many things gone wrong with the world we live in, but I guess there always have been. Its easy to find fault and see ugliness all around us. Only let there always be those who will be our guides on the path of grace.
--------------------------------------------------------
These words should burst into flames on the page. Actually, I think Christianity is a great idea, and I really do wish I could believe in life after death. But I'm not going to lie about it. I don't. The idea still moves me, though, that someone could understand and forgive our stupidity so much that he would willingly suffer torture and still ask God to forgive his tormentors. WWJD, indeed. If I'm still home sick tomorrow, maybe I'll post something else I wrote for the newsletter.

kicking and screaming

2006-02-06T11:12:00.000-08:00

My friend Burton makes a pretty good case for this site on Myspace, which I, of course, studiously ignored for some time, not considering myself to be among the "computer snobby". He does have an awfully pretty page, though, and I couldn't comment on his blog without creating my own account (curse you, Burton!), so here I am. Perhaps it's lazy or just boorish of me, but I think I'll copy over my fairly brief attempts at blogging from my own Myspace page, and proceed from there.