War is Teh Awesome!!!!!!!!

Between the above photo taken from Abu Ghraib and this article from the New York Times Sunday magazine, I can’t figure out why we don’t start more wars. They look and sound like a lot of fun.

Double Double Standard

Holy shit it is amazing to watch the spin mavens on the right fly into action in response to the dust up between St Mac and the New York Times. Perhaps I should have hired those a-holes to repair my image during my divorce proceedings. Hell, I would probably be receiving child support right now despite not having custody had I had the foresight to hire these guys. The Times publishes this watered down semi-repressed (allegedly) article detailing McCain’s ethical shortcomings including questionable lobbying practices and an affair and people are in a tizzy. Crap on cornbread, can you say ‘shocker’. You mean to tell me that a politician might seek and use his power unethically. Wow, just…wow. I have lost all faith in the democratic system. But, all that is beside the point, what amazes me most is the supposed outrage being proffered by the right for this smear. Nothing unites the right like a bashing by the Times. You get nothing but crickets during any sort of Clinton or Obama bashing (see: Brooks, Kristol, and Craphammer), but as soon as they mention Johnny, it is so ON!!!! Secondly, everyone seems to be overlooking two salient facts. The first is that McCain repeatedly cheated on his first wife, married his adulterous friend and used her funds to help his political career. The second is that McCain’s campaign worker’s were supposedly so concerned about the recently revealed facts, errrr, allegations during his 2000 presidential campaign that they took the time to interview all parties involved to get their stories straight, errrr, find the truth. All I can say, is that if there was one instance of fellatio, the man should be shipped straight to Gitmo without a trial and perhaps be waterboarded in flight. That’ll learn’em.

Update: As usual, Mr. Swift says it best.

Double Standard

Simple question as I have been thinking about the concept of double standards: why should I walk on eggshells around my ex in hopes of keeping the relationship on stable ground, while she continues to literally crap on me? More about the fetish later, but is this really right? Maybe it has a little something to do with the three little urchins that she controls my access to, just a thought.

Your Tax Dollars at Work

I certainly hope that everyone was as disgusted as I was by yesterday’s Roger Clemons/Steroids hearings on the Hill. The fact that these grandstanding bastards have the time, inclination, and stones to carry out such a worthless publicity grabbing, money wasting, bullshit having, hero worshipping, and ego massaging fiasco speaks volumes as to the depths we as a country have fallen. Disgusting! I think I saw John Adams’ ghost weeping bitterly in the back of the room on one of the feeds on CSPAN. My personal favorite hypocrite in the bunch was Rep. Dan Burton of Indiana. Check out his act here. Also, how exactly was this a partisan issue? Somehow, party lines were drawn; the right for Roger and the left for Brian. Excuse me while I go shower to get the filth off of me.

Who Invented this God Forsaken Day Anyway?

Memo

To: Townser
From: Department of Remorse
CC: Department of Regret
Date: February 14, 2008
Re: Your heart, health, and well-being

Get Your Shit Together

We would like to take this opportunity to insist that you please make current your account. It has been neglected for too long and as a matter of recourse, we have referred it to your local mixologists for their perusal. Please refrain from any further relationships with members of the opposite sex until you have been notified.

On Suicide

I’d be lying if I said I had not considered it. I’d be lying if I said I did not have a plan at one time. That being said, it has not been on my mind for several years and believe it or not I have my dead cousin to thank for that.

The reason for this post is because of an intense, semi-manic conversation I had last week with my friend Dave. As often happens with me, when I am able to connect with someone on a level beyond general friendliness, I allow myself to let go and engage in these crazy, free form rap sessions similar to those described by Tom Wolfe in The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test. Dave and I share many common interests and life experiences, most notably a love for the mountains, divorce/fatherhood, remorse, and depression. As we both struggle to deal with our divorces and parenting situations, depression is a common theme. Not just for us, but for our exes as well (or at least we rationalize that…). Of course, the logical (ignoring the fact that there is no logic to depression) progression of depression is suicide.

Suicide is one of those semi-taboo subjects in America. The majority of people know someone that has been affected by a suicide, if not know someone that has actually done the deed. In my case, my only male cousin killed himself, his mother made an attempt. In the interest of full disclosure I was hospitalized because of my suicidal thoughts. I remember standing in a church in St. Louis on a grey fall day (aren’t they always…) with tears streaming down my face cursing Bob’s decision. What about his son, I kept saying. What a selfish thing to do. Yet there I was less than five years later completely understanding the decision Bob had made.

Despite the fact that I had witnessed the damage done and felt first hand the pain caused by a suicide, I was there. Fully understanding the consequences of my actions yet realizing they were secondary to the great pain I was feeling. It is truly a desperate feeling. Every person you encounter, every comment made, every newspaper story is received and skewed through this filter that you have in the forefront of your mind.

Thankfully, I cannot imagine the act today. I think of my children, my parents, my family and friends, and even of her. None of them deserve the guilt or pain. Granted, I am no joy, but would their lives be better or worse without my presence? I like to think worse, it’ll at least get me to tomorrow and then I will deal with the day after that.

As usual ,Patterson says it best…

My Daddy called me on a Friday morning, so sad to tell me just what you’d done
You tried so hard to make us all hate you but in the end you was the only one
Sick, tired, pissed and wired, you never thought about anyone else.
You tried in vain to find something to kill you
in the end you had to do it yourself.

Who’s to blame for the loveless marriage, who’s to blame for the broken band.
You ran from life and all of it’s pleasures, your own teeth marks on your own damned hand.
Thrown out before the date’s expired, you’d rather die than let anyone help,
You’d rather die than take a stab at living.
Nothing would kill you so you do it yourself.

Everyone has those times when the night’s so long
The dead-end life just drags you down
You lean back under the microphone
and turn your demons into walls of goddamned noise and sound.

And it’s a sorry thing to do to your sweet sister
It’s a sorry thing to do to your little boy
It’s a sorry thing to do to the folks who love you
Your Mama and Daddy lost their only boy
Some should say I should cut you slack, but you worked so hard at unhappiness.
Living too hard just couldn’t kill you
In the end you had to do it yourself.

Living too hard just couldn’t kill you
In the end you had to do it yourself.

Patterson Hood, Drive By Truckers, Do it Yourself

Hope for a Day

Goose bumps, I actually had goose bumps several times last night at my local caucus site. The first time was when I approached the school where the caucus was being held and saw huge lines even though the site had only been open for ten minutes. Then to my amazement I was told that the much longer of the two lines was for people who wanted to register as a Democrat or switch parties. Apparently, I am not the only one who is fed up.

What needs to be understood is that I live in one of the reddest of the red states in a very wealthy conservative area. I’m somewhat surprised the riot police were not present with water cannons. Although the freezing rain probably served the same purpose.

Once inside, there was a palpable excitement. Most people just stood around staring with an awkward smile on their faces. I can’t count how many times I heard the phrase, “I didn’t know there were this many liberals around here.” I was not the only one to remind people that sadly, this might be the only time our votes actually matter in this election cycle as a Dem win in Kansas would probably be the equivalent of me skipping a happy hour with free beer and nachos.

The site was so over packed that there was virtually none of the give and take between opposing supporters that I had hoped to encounter. Frankly, the mainly grey haired, female Hillary crowd did not have the numbers or, judging from the looks on their faces spirit or inclination to even attempt to sway the massive group of Obama supporters. The diverse social make up of the Obama group really stood out in marked contrast to the staid Clinton supporters. More goose bumps.

Update: This kind of scares me, but I will not buy into that line of thinking.

The Free Market Ate My Baby

I am ashamed to admit that one of my best friends is a one issue voter. His issue is taxes. It actually goes deeper than that; he is a full blown Randian Free Market Whack Job™. He is completely opposed to any type of government handouts, basically any altruistic activity. What I find so ironic is that he fails to see the conflict with his position and the fact that he recently began day trading his wife’s inheritance after a prolonged period of joblessness.

We often get together to drink and argue. He says that my problem is that I care too much about others. I tell him that his problem is that he is pretending to be something he is not. No matter how much data and evidence I show him regarding who actually pays the majority of the taxes (answer: the middle class) and who the Bush tax cuts benefit (answer: not the middle class) he returns to this Atlas Shrugged argument about taking care of oneself and the welfare state. At this point I usually find the nearest sharp object and jam it deep into my ear canal. He then continues with the story citing the importance of high profits for the leaders of companies because without them we would not have jobs and they support all sorts of side industries (vendors) and they take all kinds of risk and they should be deified and perhaps have their faces carved on Mt. Rushmore. I then calmly explain that living wages are down, profits are up, and that the gap between executive pay and employee pay is at an all time high. Despite being faced with these arguments he still returns to the ideas that in a free market these supposedly abused employees could just go find another great paying job and move on. Because of course in a free market all things are equal (except of course for the tariffs and subsidies the government uses to manipulate various industries).

DNP

It seems that every day the feeling grows stronger. I have so little inclination to play the game. I am sick of being hurt. I am sick of being fake. Why should I act like something I am not just to sleep with someone? Personally, I do not understand the intense pressure to ‘hook up’ and why some people seem to use it as a way to judge themselves. It seems a bit hypocritical to lie your way into someone’s bed just to make yourself feel better. Of course I enjoy physical gratification as much as the next person, perhaps more, I am just way to leery of the pain so closely connected to all of my relationships with the opposite sex to push it much further. Maybe it’s just me though…