Ankle Deep Thoughts

Thought #1
How bad of a human being do you have to be to completely alienate the person that at one time had chosen to spend the rest of their life with you without intentionally doing anything malicious? Answer: pretty bad.

Unfortunately, I am exhibit A.

Thought #2
How stupid do you have to be to refuse to move on and continue to hold out hope for some sort of future after causing said alienation? Answer: very stupid.

See exhibit A.

Best. Phrase. Ever.

Wall Street welfare. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

The Haunting

No one told me about the haunting. You would think that with all the divorced people on this planet, someone would have mentioned it to me. Talk about inconsiderate. In any case, she haunts my dreams. I have a hard enough time sleeping as it is, and the last thing I need is her involved in every minute of my unconscious life as well. Whether it is her being completely unreasonable (asking me to pay child support for a child that isn’t mine) or completely bizarre (sleeping with my father…wtf?), she is ruining my time spent tits north. Is it too much to ask that she leave me alone while I try to find solace in dreamland? Just when I am in the middle of a great Dickensian-era England dream about anthropomorphized dog gang members terrorizing the city, she sweeps in and ruins everything. C’mon, have you no care for the sick and the dead to the world?

WWJD?

America is a mess. What would Jefferson do? Or for that matter, what would any of the founders of this country do? Those are the questions I keep asking myself, especially since we have been inundated with advertisements for the 7 part mini-series (maxi-series?) about the life of John Adams. As usual, Dan Froomkin sums it up nicely in his column today. As a bit of a history buff, I cannot help but think that these historical figures, so highly esteemed in this country, would be packing their belongings for that long journey to some new far away land in which they could escape the tyranny of our corporate monarchs and imperialistic oppressive leadership for a "do-over". Lookout Greenland, here we come.

Another one of those days

As best as I can tell, I am giving her what she wants. I probably owe her that. I have decided to stay in KC (I think, for now, maybe, possibly). She did her best to force me into that decision by treating me like a complete asshole for the last few months. Maybe now she will go back to treating me like a human being since I am no longer threatening her peaceful existence in Dayton. All I wanted in the deal was to stop hurting. The pain whenever I have to drop off the kids is unbearable. She had the nerve to reprimand me for letting the kids see me cry as I left. You tell me, what is worse, showing your true feelings in front of your children or backing out of the driveway in my convertible ‘vette with three hookers while laughing, smiling, and waving the whole time? What has happened to us? So, I have chosen to just deal with the pain from afar because frankly, I cannot see myself living in a city with her anymore. She is not the she I once knew, and it tears me up to even type those words, but it is true.

Message to her: Your plan has worked. I will not infringe on your lifestyle, but that being said, I need you as a friend. I need you as a confidante. As much as I want your love and affection, I understand that you are unwilling to give it to me, but you cannot possibly discount the years we spent together and the experiences we shared. You are doing us both a disservice by stifling this relationship. And when I say ‘relationship’, I do not mean a sexual, physical, ‘love-type’ scenario, I am talking about an emotional friendship where we can share day to day experiences and turn to each other for some release, empathy, sympathy, whatever.

So Depressing

I read something yesterday in our local cultural paper here in KC that really upset me. The music magazine No Depression is going out of business after 13 years. This is the magazine that turned me on to the Drive By Truckers and The Avett Brothers as well as many, many others. I always admired the editors for not trying to be all things to all people. The writing was always sound, not overly critical or flowery. Today I look at magazines like Paste and Harp which I felt had so much promise, but they try to do way too much. Incidentally, the recent compilation CD in the last issue of Harp just might be the single worst piece of crap I have ever listened to, and I went to High School in the 80's! I shudder to think what the music industry is turning into when great bands and magazines that support them can not afford to continue to produce their art because of ever-changing economics of the industry.

No Depression provided the soundtrack to my life for the past 13 years. The music I found there helped me through my divorce. It helped take me away from the day to day bullshit that life tends to provide. Even the title of the magazine helped keep me focused on my own personal struggle with the debilitating effects of depression. I still wear a No Depression t-shirt once every few weeks as an affirmation for my own victory (at least for now) and to give credit to a great publication. Peter, Grant, and everyone else involved, you will truly be missed, and thank you for all the hard work.

I'm so jaded, prostitution doesn't even sound fun anymore

I can't help but feel obliged to weigh in on the developing Eliot Spitzer debacle. As I sat with a few friends last night kicking around the story, I kept coming back to the point of why the DOJ was so interested in Spitzer's finances. A bank files a report suggesting that Spitzer was moving money around suspiciously (reportedly around $40K, no small shakes, but really not much to a man of his means) and this justifies an investigation? Color me jaded, but perhaps there are some folks out there with an ax to grind with the Governor. Perhaps folks that he pissed off while trying to clean up corruption on Wall Street, or maybe people he pissed off while bailing out the municipal bond insurers recently. Perhaps Republican folks within the DOJ who were affected or had friends affected. I'm just sayin... Nothing smells right anymore.

I fully agree what he did to his family is deplorable, and I always marvel at the idiocy that power produces. If he is forced to resign, so be it. If this turns out to be a witchhunt, there is blame to be shared. But there are others out there, (Larry Craig, David Vitter) in equally reputable positions who have not resigned or been forced out. As of this moment, he is still Governor, and the rumor is that he may try to stay in office. Regardless, it will be very interesting to see how this plays out. There are also rumors out there that of the 10 individuals named in the investigation, #9 (Spitzer) is named nearly 10 times more than others in the report. Why the disparity?

Womanifest Destiny

Womanifest Destiny, certainly not to be confused with the Bush Doctrine, is the belief that Townser will futilely continue his unfruitful search from coast to coast to find some semblance of love and peace with a fantastic woman. Having already destroyed one such relationship, and still striving desperately to somehow save it, the chances seem slim of any other kind soul jumping on board the HMS Townser bound for points unknown. God, I am so sick of being lonely.

The Sport of Tsars

My second greatest love, behind self-flagellation is hockey. I am so psyched to see Peter the Great back on the ice in an Avs uniform. You know, there just might be a God. Probably not, but it is still fantastic to see the guy in action again.

Crystal Ball

No wonder people are afraid of him. It’s like he could see the future:

“I know that even a successful war against Iraq will require a US occupation of undetermined length, at undetermined cost, with undetermined consequences. I know that an invasion of Iraq without a clear rationale and without strong international support will only fan the flames of the Middle East, and encourage the worst, rather than best, impulses of the Arab world, and strengthen the recruitment arm of al-Qaeda.
I am not opposed to all wars. I’m opposed to dumb wars.”-Barack Obama

10/2/2002

Dead. Fucking. On.

So Fucking Nauseating

I just threw up a little in my mouth. Actually, more than a little.

The Bucket Theory or Talkin’ Tax Cuts in War Time Blues

Imagine a farmer, let’s call him Uncle Sam. Sam needs lots of water to grow his crops. Unfortunately, Sam only has a finite amount of water which he collects through a downspout in a large bucket thanks to a kind and benevolent god who makes it rain. Let’s call the god, Taxus. Unfortunately, not all of the water is used to grow crops because there is a small hole in the bucket where the water leaks out. After many years, some more successful then others, Uncle Sam grows tired of the everyday dawn to dusk grind of farming and decides to sell the farm to an old family friend named George. George feels that he does not need as much water to take care of his crops so he decides to restrict the size of the downspout and also for some odd reason, decides to bore out the hole in the bottom of the bucket. And then to top it all off, he decides to start farming another 100 acres over in Baghdad County (I’ve always heard bad things about the folks from thar…). Needless to say, disaster ensues, and I just heard that old Farmer Sam might lose his cabin because he signed on for one of them there fancy adjustable rate mortgages. Talk about some bad breaks. Who’d a thunk it?

Questions for an Idiot

It has now officially been two years since the divorce went final. Add to that the roughly two years we were separated and you get a grand total of four years. So, to commemorate this great event, I decided to probe the depths of my mind (by using a simple pool skimmer)to figure out why this hasn't been enough time for me to actually move on. In doing so, I came across several questions that still need answers. In no particular order they are:
Why does her voice still make me feel that certain way?
Why does she still haunt my dreams?
Why do I still look for her in bars and on the street?
Why is everything still so raw?
How can I possibly still recognize, much less miss her smell?
Why do I still continue to hope that things will work out?
Am I living in a fantasy world, and if so, where the hell is Deanna Troi when I need her?
Why do I still hurt so damn much?
Why do I still want her more than ever?
When can I ever expect to get over her?
Why do my eyes still well up so easily?
Why do I still care?
Why does she still know me better than I know me?
Why do I still fawn at simple gestures from her that others would take for granted as normal human interaction?
I look forward to hearing from all of you with your answers. Yeah, right...

Why does Nietzsche hate me?

Ok, Nietzsche probably doesn’t hate me. Our paths rarely crossed, except for that one awkward weekend at the University of Basel after way too much absinthe and hashish, but I digress. The reason I’m pissed at him is because he penned the phrase “What doesn't kill us makes us stronger.” On first examination, the phrase does not seem too dangerous or damning, but after a failed business, a messy divorce, and other recent failures this quote is offered to me way too frequently. Therefore I would like to suggest that the next person who gives this ‘advice’ be prepared for a swift kick to the nuts. Just remember, what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.

U.S. Foreign Policy: Lesson 1, The Midle East

Beehive meet stick. Stick meet beehive. Lather, rinse, repeat.