BREAKING NEWS: For Star Blazers Fans!

OK. For those of you that don't already know, I'm a total dork about some things. The old "Star Blazers" cartoon is being developed into a two-hour live action movie! As I sit here, partially ready to do a little dance, I have the same misgivings I had about the "Lord of The Rings" trilogy: either it's going to be fan-fucking-tastic! or it's gonna suck ass.

Here's a little "halla" to those that watched it before school when we were kids:



Click on the title to go to the Rotten Tomatoes news release! 

When You're A Thief, It's Good To Be Discriminating

3000 cases, or 19,000 bottles of whiskey, packed and ready to ship to France have been stolen from a UK distillery. Someone is gonna have a great party somewhere.

Click on the title to go to the Belfast Telegraph article. Thanks for the link, Elizabeth!

The Simpsons - In Real Life!

OK, apparently this video is at least four years old, maybe older, but it's wonderful. It's the recreation of the opening sequence from The Simpsons using real people and places. The level of detail is astounding (don't miss Homer's plumber butt) and, as one person put it, slightly disturbing when real people are involved. Ah, the British!

OK, don't listen to me. See it for yourself. Click on the title to go to the video. Thanks for the link, Andee!

Prosthetic Pat-Downs?

An Alaskan legislator underwent a full-body scan and then was told that she would have to submit to a intrusive pat-down because the scan revealed a prosthetic boob. (She'd recently had a masectomy.) She refused and opted to take the ferry home to Alaska.

Bully for her.

I refuse to fly anymore. The TSA makes you about as safe as a snowfall in the Andes gives you something to drink.

The TSA was just a way for Michael Chertoff to sell full-body scanners to the government. It's that simple.

Click on the title to read more about how your right against unreasonable search and seizure is trampled on every day.

Conversation with Horny Cowboy

This evening, a nice young cowboy dressed in t-shirt, jeans, and hat came to stay at the hotel.

"Is there anything to do around here?" he asks.

"In Coeur d'Alene on a Sunday night? You're joking, right?" We chuckle.

"Well," I say, "there's a bar down the street called the Sunset. What were you particularly interested in?"

"I was hopin' for some girls," he says.

"Be sure to wrap it up tight, cowboy."

Strange Feelings As I Wrap Up Idaho

So, as I've mentioned, I'll be moving back to Seattle on March 1st. It didn't really sink in until my general manager came to show my apartment to a prospective replacement for my job. Since yesterday, I've been feeling a mixture of fear (to be expected, especially in this economy), regret, and ... what is it? ... loss?

I didn't realize how closely I'd drawn to people here. There is a fellow I work with who I adore. He's smart, humble, honest, and generous. We have a similar sense of humor, which we got to see earlier tonight when we both blurted out, in unison, a funny taunt to someone that was telling a story. I wanted to reach over and give him a bearhug.

There are others who come to me and ask if I'm sure I have to leave, in tones that leave no doubt that they're feeling a little upset at my departure.

Of course, there is my family. All of them want me to stay.

I always say that it feels good to be needed. There's no doubt that I'm needed here, for many reasons. However,  what is unique about this move is that I feel a sense of wrongness. I feel ..., well, I feel. 

I've been frozen for many years. I distanced myself from people because, in general, people are hurtful, coarse, and uncaring. I wasn't going to allow them to shake my tree, no way. People who knew me back when I was a teenager describe me as being "aloof". It's true. I wouldn't allow anyone to get close. If you want to know how I felt about myself, listen to "I Am A Rock" by Simon and Garfunkel. I could have written that song, myself. I know now what it means to be "living in my head". I had no body sensations at all. "I" was only the space behind my eyes. My body was just a shell that carried around a conceptual "me".

At some point over the last couple of years, I've allowed myself to thaw a little. My sense of humor has improved. I express my desires instead of hiding them or always deferring to other people's wants. I know how to say "no" and mean it. (Always room for improvement in that department.) I no longer live behind my eyes. It's a subtle feeling, but tangible. I feel "me" all the way from the crown of my head to the upper portion of my chest. It feels good. I spend a few minutes every morning just experiencing and appreciating this new awareness. Often, I feel like I'm gargantuan in size compared to others around me. I wonder if I will become more fully integrated and what it might feel like. I can only imagine at this point.

Is it by allowing others to become close that I've come to these new feelings ? Or is it that having these feelings has allowed me to become closer to others? Do these feelings arise spontaneously or simultaneously? Am I over-thinking it? Probably. 

Any way this pie gets sliced, I feel sad about leaving. I've been valued and respected. I've made new kinds of connections with others that I've never felt before and am reluctant to relinquish them. 

Is this what love feels like?

Unemployed Are New Pariahs

As if it wasn't bad enough that the unemployment rate is sky-high and not looking so great for the foreseeable future, now some companies are not willing to hire unemployed applicants.

Apparently, it's a mechanism to screen out people who have particular profiles of race or age and possibly people that have out-of-date skills.

Let's hear it for living in the good ol' USA!

Click on the link to go to this vomitous article in the Seattle Times.

Patriot Act Provisions Are Resuscitated

Leave it to our politicians to screw us ten ways from Sunday - every time.

Do you honestly think you are safer from terrorists if the government can look at your library records?

BTW, there are three more bills in Congress that would extend the Patriot Act for another ten more years. Do you really want to live under that kind of surveillance?

Click on the title for the Seattle Times article.

The Difference Between Taste and Talent

Recently, on my Facebook newsfeed, someone I know made a comment about how he doesn't care for the infamous Lady Gaga's music which, in turn, launched a full-on bash-fest. I was taken aback by some of the comments, one of which read "I'd like to punch her in the uterus." (I hope that commenter is about 14 years old, because that's the kind of crap I expect to come out of a teenager. From an adult, it's not funny or witty - it's just pathetic.)

Fashion is nuclear.

Let me send out a disclaimer: I'm not gaga about Gaga. She has some entertaining videos and a few of her more popular pieces are quite catchy. Would I spend money to go see a concert? Eh, probably not. I'm only using her as an example because she was the subject of this particular Facebook post. 

After reading many vitriolic statements about Gaga, I realized that there is a big disconnect. Huge, in fact. People don't understand the difference between personal musical tastes and recognizing other people's talents.

It's very simple. Just because you don't like someone's art is not a gauge of their talent.

There are thousands of talented musicians that will never see a recording contract in their lives. Why not? Because their music has zero commercial appeal. Lady Gaga happens to have huge commercial appeal. Don't agree? You don't have to. The money backing her speaks for itself.

And she is mega-talented. It can't be denied and if you do, you're just swimming in denial. She has a voice the size of a barn and a deep passion to back it. She sings, she dances, she plays piano, and she gives people something to talk about. She's a one-woman show. Before you criticize her (or anyone like her), let me ask a question: when was the last time anyone paid you to sing and dance for them? Uh-huh, that's what I thought.

I just remembered, someone mentioned their dissatisfaction with her "pandering" to the gay community in order to support her career. What she's doing is not pandering. She knows her market which is a key part of doing good business. It looks like she's doing pretty good business.

How about this: instead of bashing on other people's success or discussing whether they are talented or not, why don't you take some voice lessons or learn to dance, yourself? Seriously. It used to be that everyone had a talent because when the sun went down, all we had was ourselves. We told stories, sang, danced, or played instruments. We did shadow puppetry, played charades, and other games that engaged everyone. We weren't consumers of entertainment. It wasn't someone's job. It was part of the pleasure of living.

That would be far more interesting and entertaining than listening to talentless people sit around and bitch.

Conversation with My Nephew

Tonight, while I was helping prepare our once-a-month family dinner, my nephew, Jesse, came in to tell me about some news stories he's heard about at school. Immediately, I braced myself.

"Dude, you know what this tastes like?"

Jesse is 15 or 16. I remember very well what most young people that age consider to be newsworthy. At that age, I was interested in the Soviet Union, Ronald Reagan, and Michael Jackson. (Back then, Jacko was in the papers nearly every week.) The other kids that went to school with me, their idea of news was along the lines of "Did you hear about that tramp, Tracy? She was caught with some peanut butter and, like, gag me with a spoon!" You get the idea.

Apparently, a woman went to the grocery store and accepted a yogurt sample from an employee. After tasting it, she complains to the management that it tastes like semen. "Whoa," I said. "Already there is so much that is wrong with that story I can't begin to tell you." Jesse continues, telling me that she complained to the management about the taste of semen in the yogurt. They told her that it was Greek and that people like it that way.

"Actually, that would be French."

At that point, I turned and said as an aside to my brother, "Actually, that would be French."

Click on the link to go to the MSNBC story, which isn't nearly as entertaining as the comments that followed it. 

BREAKING NEWS: Egypt Is Free!

It was just announced on MSNBC that Hosni Mubarak has turned over all authority to the military to oversee the governmental transition in Egypt. The military has guaranteed the repeal of emergency rule that the public has lived under for thirty years.

I'm watching the celebration in Tahrir Square right now.

Morning in Egypt: Another Tiananmen Square?

As I am writing this, at 2am PST, the military is surrounding the Presidential Palace in anticipation that the protesters in Tahrir Square are going to move on it today. The military has asked the protesters to go home, that they guarantee that the protesters demands will be met in full.

The protesters aren't buying it. They are laying in the square chanting "Peaceful". They are building latrines and showers in the Square and are saying on live television that they will not move until Mubarak steps down. They are calling this the "Friday for Martyrs".

My wish for Egypt is a peaceful transfer of governmental authority. However, after the massacre in Tiananmen Square over twenty years ago, I have concerns that this will end badly.

Always remember what happened after China bulldozed thousands of people with tanks and then conducted a countrywide witch hunt for dissidents: nothing. Not one country in the world did one meaningful thing. Oh, they suspended some loans and financial assistance, but big fucking deal. In fact not ten years later, China was named Most Favored Trading Partner of the United States.

ALWAYS REMEMBER.

THERE IS NO REASON EGYPT WON'T GO THE SAME WAY.

BREAKING NEWS: President Donald Trump

Donald Trump has just announced on Piers Morgan's show on CNN that he may make a run to be the next President of the USA. This is not a joke. And I have to admit, I kinda like what he had to say, which is primarily a very strong stance against China's unfair economic policies toward the US. He says that he'll make his decision between now and June.

Vote Trump 2012?

USA Patriot Act: Down But Not Out

Whew. Thank goodness. One of the most horrible pieces of legislation EVER, has expired. However, like the villain that keeps coming back at the end of a bad horror movie, Republicans are trying to make it permanent. Call your representatives and let them know We The People don't want it!

What's really sad, though, is the ongoing damage done via the Patriot Act, like the creation of the Department of Homeland Security and the TSA. You might feel like you're safer if someone gropes your junk when you fly, but I don't. (Personally, I think anyone that would want a job like that is a pervert of some sort.) The TSA is a primary reason why I don't fly much anymore. That hurts because I love to fly. And how do you like the treatment you receive at the hands of your local law enforcement? That's another consequence of the Patriot Act. It basically gave police at every level almost KGB-style bash-and-grab authority. For those of you who don't remember the fucking KGB, I'm not even going to put a link in. I'm going to make you put some effort into reading about the Soviet secret police and then look at what's going on in your own country. 

We are not that far from it.

Link to the news article below.

Nation & World | House fails to renew USA Patriot Act | Seattle Times Newspaper

Obama Interview: Nobody Loves Me, Everybody Hates Me ...

Seriously? People who hate you don't know you? It's neither very presidential, nor does it represent strong leadership for someone to discuss such a subject.

Let's be honest, Mister Obama, it's not you personally that people don't like. It's your continuation of the Bush Administration's policies that people don't like. We don't like that you handed the insurance agencies a windfall in a supposed "health care reform", which doesn't reform anything at all. We don't like that the military complex is humming along nice and expensively without accountability in a war that we should never have started. In two different countries. We don't like how Wall Street is still without regulation and continues to trade volatile derivatives just like they did before the stock crash. We don't like how you have done nothing to repair America's international reputation.

In a nutshell, we're past the point of being interested in you personally. That's what the campaign trial is for. Now, what we're concerned with is what you do.

Click on the title to go to The Seattle Times article.

Returning to Seattle

The date is set! I will arrive in Seattle on March 1st and I'm very excited to be home again.

Coeur d'Alene is a beautiful little town with lots of fresh mountain air. But there is not any public transportation to speak of. Plus, the temperatures get down to nearly zero in the winter. That alone is a deal-killer for me. Call me a wimp all you want, but I'm me, not you.

I'm looking forward to seeing my friends again and getting back to my favorite restaurants. I think the variety of food in Seattle is the thing I like the most. The traffic, the pollution, the homelessness, and the crime are real turn-offs. The downtown Public Library is simply depressing. The Metro bus system is a superior service compared to other cities I've lived in, even if it is standing room only on many routes.

City of Light

I remember Seattle from when I was a little boy in the 70s. It was big, colorful, and had an unusual personality. I remember walking behind a pimp in a bright orange suit with a huge feather sticking out of the headband. He was walking this jaunty, funky strut. I got in right behind him and started imitating him. My mother was caught between a gasp and dying of laughter. I was about seven or eight years old. Down at the Pike Street Market, the Cuban Communists were on the sidewalk, selling their propaganda. In the UDistrict, record stores were staffed with people that wore black eyeliner and purple hair, among other things. You could buy a crepe with apple butter from a chef behind a pass-thru window. The Greyhound station was dirty and dingy. Hustlers would stand in the doorways of the restrooms. You had to pay a dime to use the stalls. (My brother and I just slipped underneath the door.) Drunks could be found in the gutters of Pike Street on Sunday mornings. Well, most mornings. But Sundays in particular. I remember walking through the UDistrict Safeway with my mom and piping up "Hey mister! Why do you have a dog in the store?!?" My mother was mortified, but the man shushed her and told me he was blind and that was his seeing-eye dog. So, I peppered him with all kinds of questions about the duties of a seeing-eye dog.

But the thing I remember the most was Seattle's friendliness. I keep hoping for it's return. I'd love to see these chilly people warm up, just a little bit. I'd certainly feel much more at home. Still, I'll be glad to be back.

Blast From The Past: Cub Scout Beauty Pageant

Yes, seriously. A cub scout beauty pageant. Whoever the fucktard was that came up with this idea for a pack meeting should have been tarred and feathered.

I was, oh, I dunno - maybe seven or eight years old? Scouting was a very popular thing in the community that I grew up in. There was no question that I was joining. Everybody did.

Somebody's parent got it in their head that it would be fun to have a "beauty pageant" and dress the boys in drag. I swear it must have been a child molester looking for future sport.

Anyway, my mother and my grandmother got all excited about it. My grandmother let me use one of her chemo wigs. Mom drove me to The Salvation Army and we picked out a little blue dress with white French knots all over it. Somewhere, I don't know where, some fuck-me pumps materialized for me to wear. I remember that I looked really good.

The way the game would be played that evening is all the scouts would line up in front of the audience (I've never seen so many people at a scout meeting in my life), the MC would call someone's name, and that person would step forward. Whoever got the most applause would be the winner.

They called us to the front of the auditorium. There were probably about ten of us. I looked up and down the line, sizing up the competition. I didn't really care if I won or not. I was just having fun. As I saw the other boys, all with their heads hanging down, faces squished up like they'd eaten a bad oyster, I suddenly realized that I did want to win - and badly so.

The MC started calling out our names. Every boy before me shambled up a step or two when they were called, obviously unwilling and unhappy, and then returned to their place. Each got a smattering of applause. Instantly, I knew how to cinch the victory.

When my name was called - I was about third or fourth down the line - I imitated an old 40s film star I'd watched. I strutted out about five feet, swinging my hips, one foot in front of the other, stopped and took a pose, one hand on my hip, while the other went up to flounce the back of my hair. Then, I turned with a toss of my head and my nose in the air and skank-walked back to my place in line.

Crowd. Went. Wild. I mean, seriously so.

The boy standing to my left, who was next to go, was just agape and staring at me. I winked at him, silently daring him to try to top me.

I won first prize. I don't have any recollection what the prize was. All I remember was that I had fun doing what nobody else was willing to do. That was prize enough for me.

It also set the stage for the rest of my life. I learned that most people are unwilling to do something unconventional, even if there is some potential fun to be had. But get this, if I was willing to go first, they would usually join in soon after. They are too scared that someone will make fun of them or think badly of them.

Well, I don't mind at all.

Robert Frost wrote a famous poem about how he came to a fork in the road, chose to take the road not taken, and how his life was so greatly different for having done so. I've always taken that to heart and, indeed, my life is so much richer than I ever could have imagined on my own. I look forward to plenty more of the same.