In 1943 multiple Pulitzer Prize winning historian Richard Hofstadter wrote the book Anti-Intellectualism in American Life which traced social movements that altered the role of intellect in American society. In it he argued, with extreme success, that anti-intellectualism and utilitarianism were functions of American cultural heritage, born out of our colonial European and evangelical Protestant heritage, and now embedded within our national fabric. He identified the major causes of anti-intellectualism in society as mediocrity in the public schools, and attacks on academic freedom in the universities and a press divided into niche markets.
The entire book was a social commentary on life leading up to the early 1960s, the increasing influence of Protestant evangelicalism, political egalitarianism, and the rising cult of practicality as the new criteria for assessing the private and public worlds. He spoke to the connection of religion, politics and public schools fostering the average person’s resentment and suspicion of intellect and of those who devoted their lives to it. Tracing through history, he then showed how this created a predictable reaction of "righteous" vengeance from a highly susceptible percentage of the population and how that rise is not only precipitated but cyclical.
I mention Hofstadter and his book because I spent this last week reading Glenn Beck’s five books, watching hours of his show and reading through his numerous pieces online. I did so because I’ve been trying to figure out why so many people find him to be a credible source of knowledge on politics, society and life in general. After submitting myself to all things Glenn Beck, I can honestly say that the people who follow this man are clearly not too intelligent. His books contradict themselves, his show is encourages people to isolate themselves, reinforce their predetermined opinions and uses the old trick of repetition to make truth out of fiction.
If virulence destroys an argument, it is only done so when fiction is embraced and civility is abandoned to mob rule. In Glenn Beck’s world, contempt of anything that he cannot understand is marketed like a commodity to a segment of the population who understands the topic less than him. What is more interesting is that his rise and eventual fall will be inextricably linked to both Hofstadter anti-intellectualism and the inevitable normal curve of shock media. Glenn Beck is the new Jerry Springer Show, Howard Stern, The Morton Downey Jr. Show or the practice of bleeding sick people. And the only way to combat his misinformation, thinly veiled bigotry and radical political ideologies, is to just let them run their course. So if you are like me would like to go all Lionel Trilling on the situation, but lack the cerebral firepower, don’t. Anything that you do to encourage either him or his momentary followers simply adds to his credibility as an anti-intellectual leader and extends the time during which he is relevant.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Why is it Always South Carolina?
I’ve lived in a lot of places in my life, but no where have I lived that had a reputation like South Carolina. We moved here a week after Miss Teen South Carolina, competing in the Miss Teen USA Pageant, made national headlines with possibly the worst answer to a question in the history of all questions and answers (video here). Then our intellectually challenged Governor got so lost on the Appalachian Trail that he ended up in bed with an Argentinean mistress, only to then cry on national TV as he tried to explain to the world that she was his "soul mate". This last week our 2nd Congressional District Representative to the US House, Addison Graves Wilson, Sr. (he just goes by "Joe"), who was previously only known for being one of the last holdouts for taking the Confederate symbol off of the state flag, heckled the president in a joint session of Congress. Seriously.
Historically speaking, SC has a reputation for being on the wrong side of almost everything argument since our inception. From the big things, like South Carolina being the last state to sign the Constitution (and only agreeing to join the Union on the condition that the Constitution wouldn't abolish slavery), to SC being first state to secede from the Union and the last to succeed in reestablishing its native white government after Reconstruction, to all of the small things, like South Carolina being last state to abandon a simple money fine for the murder of a slave, last to recognize MLK Day, an educational ranking of 49th in the country, 48th in unemployment, one of the worst states for woman’s health care, one of the highest rates of teen pregnancy, lowest infants birthrate, highest infant mortality, highest stroke death rate (which SC has had for a staggering 5 decades), 2nd highest death rate for oral cancer, one of the highest poverty rates within the US. All of this leads to the third worst life expectancy in the entire country (if there were ever a state in the US that could use health care reform, it’s South Carolina).
So naturally, with such an unhealthy, uneducated population, our representatives are going to be, well, representative. This helps to feed the rhetoric that amazes most of the country. They cannot understand why South Carolina has such high percentage of people who are unabashedly proud of their constantly poor decisions. South Carolina's arrogant backlash against what are mathematically unquestionable statistics, and inverse benevolence towards those who refuse to listen to elementary logic, are what causes the country to take note. Which is why, every couple of months, another South Carolinian makes national headlines for actions that the vast majority the country would categorize as "not too bright."
All of this continuously bad press was summed up by one of Politico’s lead headline this week: "What's the Matter with South Carolina?" The answer to Politico’s headline is simple. We are the most patriotic state in the country. We are the strongest, humblest and do more than any other state to make our country both strong and successful. Don’t believe me? What state would stand up against health care reform when they need it the most? What state would fight against government job stimulus when have skyrocketing unemployment and endemic poverty? What state would knowingly, historically and with full awareness of their actions, crucify themselves over and over again, prostrating themselves on the altar of every bad idea, hypocritical leader and backwards ideology, while still holding their heads up for the world to see? Who will? South Carolina will, that’s who. Without us, the other states would have no example of what not to be. That is our place in this country and we do a damn good job at it.
Historically speaking, SC has a reputation for being on the wrong side of almost everything argument since our inception. From the big things, like South Carolina being the last state to sign the Constitution (and only agreeing to join the Union on the condition that the Constitution wouldn't abolish slavery), to SC being first state to secede from the Union and the last to succeed in reestablishing its native white government after Reconstruction, to all of the small things, like South Carolina being last state to abandon a simple money fine for the murder of a slave, last to recognize MLK Day, an educational ranking of 49th in the country, 48th in unemployment, one of the worst states for woman’s health care, one of the highest rates of teen pregnancy, lowest infants birthrate, highest infant mortality, highest stroke death rate (which SC has had for a staggering 5 decades), 2nd highest death rate for oral cancer, one of the highest poverty rates within the US. All of this leads to the third worst life expectancy in the entire country (if there were ever a state in the US that could use health care reform, it’s South Carolina).
So naturally, with such an unhealthy, uneducated population, our representatives are going to be, well, representative. This helps to feed the rhetoric that amazes most of the country. They cannot understand why South Carolina has such high percentage of people who are unabashedly proud of their constantly poor decisions. South Carolina's arrogant backlash against what are mathematically unquestionable statistics, and inverse benevolence towards those who refuse to listen to elementary logic, are what causes the country to take note. Which is why, every couple of months, another South Carolinian makes national headlines for actions that the vast majority the country would categorize as "not too bright."
All of this continuously bad press was summed up by one of Politico’s lead headline this week: "What's the Matter with South Carolina?" The answer to Politico’s headline is simple. We are the most patriotic state in the country. We are the strongest, humblest and do more than any other state to make our country both strong and successful. Don’t believe me? What state would stand up against health care reform when they need it the most? What state would fight against government job stimulus when have skyrocketing unemployment and endemic poverty? What state would knowingly, historically and with full awareness of their actions, crucify themselves over and over again, prostrating themselves on the altar of every bad idea, hypocritical leader and backwards ideology, while still holding their heads up for the world to see? Who will? South Carolina will, that’s who. Without us, the other states would have no example of what not to be. That is our place in this country and we do a damn good job at it.
Tuesday, September 08, 2009
I’ll see you in the morning,
For now it’s time to sleep.
I will stay and watch a while,
Till you are counting sheep.
Don’t be afraid of darkness.
Don’t be afraid, my sweet.
The night is just a blanket,
That helps the earth to sleep.
Creatures great and creatures small,
Will all be sleeping soon.
Under the same blanket,
Under the same moon.
So close your eyes and go to sleep,
By the light of the moon above.
I’ll see you in the morning,
In the light of the sun my love.
Dream your dreams of moonbeams.
Let the night become your friend.
The twinkling stars will keep you safe,
Till morning comes again.
I’ll be here if you need me,
I’m only steps away.
So close your eyes and go to sleep
And dream of a brand-new day.
Good night, sleep tight and I’ll see you in the morning.
Monday, September 07, 2009
Unnecessary Ingredients or Why I Don’t Eat at Chick-fil-A
When we eat out, which can be quite often, it is either for friendship, freedom or frugality and rarely ever for the food. Add to that, with a couple of restaurant exceptions, most everything that we could eat out, we make better at home. That being said, when we do eat out we’re looking for something very specific: A decent meal, at a fair price, without too much else.
Let me clarify that a bit. Cooking a decent meal, especially in a restaurant setting, is not a hard thing to do. Even keeping the price reasonable is something that is relatively easy. Decent ingredients, proven recipes and reliable methods generally yield a meal that almost anyone could find comfort in eating. With that being understood, it is in the last part of what I am looking for when I eat out that seems to be the tricky part, so let me take a minute to explain.
I don’t eat out for word play. You are never going to be clever enough compensate for average food – so please don’t try it. It is not an organic whole wheat, free-range pork belly, hothouse tomatoes and arugula arranged on a bed of potato wedges. It’s a BLT with fries. I understand the desire to create a higher perceived value because the customer then believes that by consuming that product they in turn have enhanced their own worth, but by interjecting unnecessary attempts at heightened verbiage on something as simple as lunch, it just comes off as desperate pandering. This goes for any cute wordage as well. Here are just a few things that fall into that category: I don’t want to "biggie size" anything, I refuse to "slam it up," and it’s a Large, not a Tall. If you want to sell me a larger size, just ask if I want larger size.
Also in this category are those who attempt to add a social, spiritual or other extraneous aspects to their food (I don’t want to cleanse my body and soul, I just want a smoothy). The worst offender in this category is Chick-fil-A. For those of you who don’t know, Chick-fil-A is a fast food restaurant that serves a mighty tasty chicken sandwich. It is one of the few fast food chains that is both of decent quality and isn’t massive offensive to your digestive track. Also, Chick-fil-A is an organization that prides itself by wearing its morals on the outside. And while most of this is fairly benign (they aren’t open on Sundays), some of it has become too distracting for what they serve.
During the last election all of the local Chick-fil-A’s had political signs up and the employees were encouraged to tell people to have a blessed day. While I’m all for political involvement, such heavy-handed tactics are completely unnecessary and distracting from what they are in business to do: Sell me lunch. Moreover, by trying to create a clique where all likeminded people can gather and shop, they were actively working to create an atmosphere of “us versus them.”
Each time that I stood in line at a Chick-fl-A I kept thinking, "I didn’t come to your restaurant for a political movement, I didn’t come to your restaurant to feel that I’m part of some honorable cause and I didn’t come to your restaurant to be blessed for my ability to order, I came for a sandwich," but it still always came with everything else. It is for that reason alone that I stopped eating at Chick-fil-A and probably will not return for a long time. Lunch should never be that complicated.
Let me clarify that a bit. Cooking a decent meal, especially in a restaurant setting, is not a hard thing to do. Even keeping the price reasonable is something that is relatively easy. Decent ingredients, proven recipes and reliable methods generally yield a meal that almost anyone could find comfort in eating. With that being understood, it is in the last part of what I am looking for when I eat out that seems to be the tricky part, so let me take a minute to explain.
I don’t eat out for word play. You are never going to be clever enough compensate for average food – so please don’t try it. It is not an organic whole wheat, free-range pork belly, hothouse tomatoes and arugula arranged on a bed of potato wedges. It’s a BLT with fries. I understand the desire to create a higher perceived value because the customer then believes that by consuming that product they in turn have enhanced their own worth, but by interjecting unnecessary attempts at heightened verbiage on something as simple as lunch, it just comes off as desperate pandering. This goes for any cute wordage as well. Here are just a few things that fall into that category: I don’t want to "biggie size" anything, I refuse to "slam it up," and it’s a Large, not a Tall. If you want to sell me a larger size, just ask if I want larger size.
Also in this category are those who attempt to add a social, spiritual or other extraneous aspects to their food (I don’t want to cleanse my body and soul, I just want a smoothy). The worst offender in this category is Chick-fil-A. For those of you who don’t know, Chick-fil-A is a fast food restaurant that serves a mighty tasty chicken sandwich. It is one of the few fast food chains that is both of decent quality and isn’t massive offensive to your digestive track. Also, Chick-fil-A is an organization that prides itself by wearing its morals on the outside. And while most of this is fairly benign (they aren’t open on Sundays), some of it has become too distracting for what they serve.
During the last election all of the local Chick-fil-A’s had political signs up and the employees were encouraged to tell people to have a blessed day. While I’m all for political involvement, such heavy-handed tactics are completely unnecessary and distracting from what they are in business to do: Sell me lunch. Moreover, by trying to create a clique where all likeminded people can gather and shop, they were actively working to create an atmosphere of “us versus them.”
Each time that I stood in line at a Chick-fl-A I kept thinking, "I didn’t come to your restaurant for a political movement, I didn’t come to your restaurant to feel that I’m part of some honorable cause and I didn’t come to your restaurant to be blessed for my ability to order, I came for a sandwich," but it still always came with everything else. It is for that reason alone that I stopped eating at Chick-fil-A and probably will not return for a long time. Lunch should never be that complicated.
Sunday, September 06, 2009
I Am Now a Card-Carrying Nanotitanium Visa Member
My new Nanotitanium Visa Card finally arrived in the mail this week and I have to say that it is incredible. With a variable rate of just 32.9%, it has a hologram, is partially clear, allows me to put my own 3D picture on it AND still has room for the words “Exclusive Nanotitanium Visa Member” across the top. Sure it doesn’t allow me to accrue any points, has no benefits, and there is a monthly fee of $27.50, but there is another value that I place higher. When I pull my Nanotitanium Visa Card out and hold it up for the cashier or waiter to see, everyone is immediately impressed. It is my not so subtle way to tell the world that I am better than them, can afford to throw away money and I am part of elite, select, group of individuals put on a pedestal above everyone else. Finally, there is a way for me to express my sheer awesomeness in simple card form. And because I need to spend at least $3,700 a month to retain my Nanotitanium Visa Card, feel free to ask me to buy you something so that you can bask in the exclusiveness that is my good common sense, higher intellect and sound fiscal responsibility.
Friday, September 04, 2009
If I Had Won $260 Million Dollars
(with apologizes to Steve Martian)
There have been several very large lottery winners in the news lately and it’s gotten me thinking about playing the lottery. In the past I’ve only purchased tickets when the Powerball got up to an obscene number. I guess that at some point the potential for winning hundreds of millions of dollars overwhelmed my basic understandings of math, but I have never spent more than five bucks, so the loss was always easily forgettable.
These thoughts of playing the lottery all started a week ago when someone won $260 million dollars. Let me repeat that again, $260,000,000 dollars. Five times my cities 2008 operating budget. But more importantly, think of the good that you could do in the world with that money. An amount that large, used wisely, could make a sizable impact on many needy people.
If I had won the $260 million dollars, I think that the first thing that I would do would be to find the poorest parts of the world and build fully interactive children’s museums to teach them hope and joy. While providing jobs and helping those local economies, it would lift the intellectual level of the most impoverished children so that the next generation would be remarkably better off than the last.
If I had won the $260 million dollars, I think that the second thing that I would do would be to transfer 50 million dollars to an offshore bank account, but my first thing would still be to create the interactive children’s museums to teach them hope and joy.
If I had won the $260 million dollars, in the spirit of universal brotherhood, of course, would be the interactive children’s museums, then moving 50 million offshore and third would be to purchase the ability to command all that live and breathe using nothing more then my slightest thought.
If I had won the $260 million dollars, I would do that stuff for brats, then transfer that money, buy absolute power over people, and then celebrate my gift to humanity by having a weeklong orgy with Megan Fox, Kate Beckinsale and that French girl from the first Matrix movie… ..Moncia something. Of course I would include my beautiful wife too. She’s behind me 100% on this, I promise.
Come to think of it, maybe the wild sex thing should be first. I mean, I could die tomorrow and then I would have wasted all of that money. Don’t get me wrong, whatever that kid’s thing I’m doing is fine, but you need a celebration period to get it out of your system.
Who am I kidding; I could never build all of those interactive children’s museums in the poorest areas. It’s a logistical nightmare and I couldn’t get the political support or land needed to pull something like that off. So let’s reorganize, first: the sex, second the offshore banking – wait, the power over all should be second, then the money and then fourth, the kids. Hold on! I totally forgot revenge against all of those people in my life who’ve wronged me. They should pay for ever doubting me!!!! Make the revenge the fourth thing. And of course, if I had won the $260 million dollars, the fifth thing would be to build the needy a fully interactive children’s museums to teach them hope and joy.
There have been several very large lottery winners in the news lately and it’s gotten me thinking about playing the lottery. In the past I’ve only purchased tickets when the Powerball got up to an obscene number. I guess that at some point the potential for winning hundreds of millions of dollars overwhelmed my basic understandings of math, but I have never spent more than five bucks, so the loss was always easily forgettable.
These thoughts of playing the lottery all started a week ago when someone won $260 million dollars. Let me repeat that again, $260,000,000 dollars. Five times my cities 2008 operating budget. But more importantly, think of the good that you could do in the world with that money. An amount that large, used wisely, could make a sizable impact on many needy people.
If I had won the $260 million dollars, I think that the first thing that I would do would be to find the poorest parts of the world and build fully interactive children’s museums to teach them hope and joy. While providing jobs and helping those local economies, it would lift the intellectual level of the most impoverished children so that the next generation would be remarkably better off than the last.
If I had won the $260 million dollars, I think that the second thing that I would do would be to transfer 50 million dollars to an offshore bank account, but my first thing would still be to create the interactive children’s museums to teach them hope and joy.
If I had won the $260 million dollars, in the spirit of universal brotherhood, of course, would be the interactive children’s museums, then moving 50 million offshore and third would be to purchase the ability to command all that live and breathe using nothing more then my slightest thought.
If I had won the $260 million dollars, I would do that stuff for brats, then transfer that money, buy absolute power over people, and then celebrate my gift to humanity by having a weeklong orgy with Megan Fox, Kate Beckinsale and that French girl from the first Matrix movie… ..Moncia something. Of course I would include my beautiful wife too. She’s behind me 100% on this, I promise.
Come to think of it, maybe the wild sex thing should be first. I mean, I could die tomorrow and then I would have wasted all of that money. Don’t get me wrong, whatever that kid’s thing I’m doing is fine, but you need a celebration period to get it out of your system.
Who am I kidding; I could never build all of those interactive children’s museums in the poorest areas. It’s a logistical nightmare and I couldn’t get the political support or land needed to pull something like that off. So let’s reorganize, first: the sex, second the offshore banking – wait, the power over all should be second, then the money and then fourth, the kids. Hold on! I totally forgot revenge against all of those people in my life who’ve wronged me. They should pay for ever doubting me!!!! Make the revenge the fourth thing. And of course, if I had won the $260 million dollars, the fifth thing would be to build the needy a fully interactive children’s museums to teach them hope and joy.
Thursday, September 03, 2009
Hyperbolic Rhetoric is Self-Defeating
In an era in which cognitive dissonance has become a national epidemic, news programs, public figures, corporations and some individuals have increasingly turned to hyperbolic conjecture to catch the attention of the public at large. While the policy of ever escalating rhetoric works in the short term, it is ultimately doomed to failure. Everything in the cosmos has a breaking point, and most people’s tolerance for increasingly inflammatory dialog is, while on a stretching scale of acceptability, finite. So when you see someone rise to that level of incendiary discourse, know that you are fully in your right to discount anything that they say from there on out.
To prove this theory, simply flip on your TV and tune into one of the latest pundit shows (it doesn’t matter what side, they’re all the same) and take a look at what is believed to be acceptable banter. Outrage is normal, loud conflict is routine and vulgarity is expected. People choose sides and virulently attack each other in the spirit of absolute reckless abandon. Inevitably, someone will compare someone else to Hitler and the whole thing becomes a who-is-worse-than-who argument. Being that this is TV, we should expect it to be filled to the brim with the flashy, substance-lacking, pseudo-intellectuals that can pass for free-thinking as long as they stick to their script. This type of televised conversation is nothing new and only seems to ooze into more of the media as the years go by.
What bothers me the most about this ever-increasing trend of focused verbal degradation is the fact that it is spilling over into our daily lives at an alarming rate. Otherwise normal people, not being paid to make an ass of themselves, are now comparing others to Hitler, telling jokes about their political adversaries dying and generally being horrible examples of the simplest forms of civility. Sure it’s easy to get sucked into a heated discussion, but we all need to have a line that we will not cross for the simple reason that no argument won through that much hatred is worth winning.
To prove this theory, simply flip on your TV and tune into one of the latest pundit shows (it doesn’t matter what side, they’re all the same) and take a look at what is believed to be acceptable banter. Outrage is normal, loud conflict is routine and vulgarity is expected. People choose sides and virulently attack each other in the spirit of absolute reckless abandon. Inevitably, someone will compare someone else to Hitler and the whole thing becomes a who-is-worse-than-who argument. Being that this is TV, we should expect it to be filled to the brim with the flashy, substance-lacking, pseudo-intellectuals that can pass for free-thinking as long as they stick to their script. This type of televised conversation is nothing new and only seems to ooze into more of the media as the years go by.
What bothers me the most about this ever-increasing trend of focused verbal degradation is the fact that it is spilling over into our daily lives at an alarming rate. Otherwise normal people, not being paid to make an ass of themselves, are now comparing others to Hitler, telling jokes about their political adversaries dying and generally being horrible examples of the simplest forms of civility. Sure it’s easy to get sucked into a heated discussion, but we all need to have a line that we will not cross for the simple reason that no argument won through that much hatred is worth winning.
Wednesday, September 02, 2009
Excuse Me, But I Don’t Care
Even though I’ve lived in the South for many years now there are some things to which I cannot acclimate. Most of my grievances emanate from individuals who find it appropriate to start complete conversations with random strangers without following any conversational protocol. I’ve had this happen in other parts of the country too, but the sheer quantity that it happens here in the South is almost overwhelming. Being a native Northern boy, I never know how to handle someone who just starts talking and refuses to yield the floor. I don’t want to be rude, but I don’t want to talk to them either.
Case in point: This morning I went to check the post office box and had the following conversation. Quick tip: there was no conversation before or after what is written. Below is the entirety of our exchange and for ease of storytelling I’ve named the random old guy Otis (because it seems to fit).
Otis: I just bought me some of those forever stamps.
Me (finding key for box): Um… ..ok
Otis: I remember when they were just flag stamps – I liked them the best. It seems to me that the Post Office should do more flag stamps if they want people to mail more letters.
Me: (interrupting while pulling mail out): I’m just here to get my…
Otis: People mail letters because they have stamps and they buy stamps because they like the design. So if the Post Office would put out more things people like on their stamps, more people would talk to each other through the mail.
Me: Sure . Sounds good. Listen I’ve got to…
Otis: Instead, people just talk to each other through the computers. My granddaughter talks to her friends through the computer all the time, but I can’t get her to write me a letter. She just keeps telling me to get a computer and that we could talk through there. Well, I don’t know about that. I mean, I was a naval officer in the war and we use to communicate through….
Me: (starting to walk towards the door): I’m really running late today, I’ll be seeing you….
Otis: Let me ask you a question.
Me: A long as it’s…
Otis: Do you think that the naval officers of today use computers to talk to each other or do you think that they still use the box?
Me (opening the post office door): The box?
Otis: I’m glad you asked, the box is….
Me: (faking that my phone is ringing) Sorry, I’ve got to take this. Nice talking to you. Hello?
And this is how I would have liked to handle that conversation:
Otis: I just bought me some of those forever stamps.
Me: (finding key for box): Siggghhhh.
Otis: I remember when they were just flag stamps…
Me: Let me stop you right there. Baring you telling me about how you’re giving away your winning Mega Millions Lottery ticket to the next person you see in the Post Office, there probably isn’t a thing in the world that you could tell me right now that I would be interested in hearing. Sure I might listen and nod, but really I’ll just want away from you. It’s nothing personal; I just don’t want waste a couple minutes of my life listening to you babble or complain. It’s not fair to just pin people down with a forced conversation because you’re lonely or bored. So now that I have my mail, I’ll be wishing you a good day.
But I can’t, I just can’t. These people are generally older, abandoned and just in need of a conscience or semi-conscience mammal to talk at. I have to, because some day I may be Otis.
Case in point: This morning I went to check the post office box and had the following conversation. Quick tip: there was no conversation before or after what is written. Below is the entirety of our exchange and for ease of storytelling I’ve named the random old guy Otis (because it seems to fit).
Otis: I just bought me some of those forever stamps.
Me (finding key for box): Um… ..ok
Otis: I remember when they were just flag stamps – I liked them the best. It seems to me that the Post Office should do more flag stamps if they want people to mail more letters.
Me: (interrupting while pulling mail out): I’m just here to get my…
Otis: People mail letters because they have stamps and they buy stamps because they like the design. So if the Post Office would put out more things people like on their stamps, more people would talk to each other through the mail.
Me: Sure . Sounds good. Listen I’ve got to…
Otis: Instead, people just talk to each other through the computers. My granddaughter talks to her friends through the computer all the time, but I can’t get her to write me a letter. She just keeps telling me to get a computer and that we could talk through there. Well, I don’t know about that. I mean, I was a naval officer in the war and we use to communicate through….
Me: (starting to walk towards the door): I’m really running late today, I’ll be seeing you….
Otis: Let me ask you a question.
Me: A long as it’s…
Otis: Do you think that the naval officers of today use computers to talk to each other or do you think that they still use the box?
Me (opening the post office door): The box?
Otis: I’m glad you asked, the box is….
Me: (faking that my phone is ringing) Sorry, I’ve got to take this. Nice talking to you. Hello?
And this is how I would have liked to handle that conversation:
Otis: I just bought me some of those forever stamps.
Me: (finding key for box): Siggghhhh.
Otis: I remember when they were just flag stamps…
Me: Let me stop you right there. Baring you telling me about how you’re giving away your winning Mega Millions Lottery ticket to the next person you see in the Post Office, there probably isn’t a thing in the world that you could tell me right now that I would be interested in hearing. Sure I might listen and nod, but really I’ll just want away from you. It’s nothing personal; I just don’t want waste a couple minutes of my life listening to you babble or complain. It’s not fair to just pin people down with a forced conversation because you’re lonely or bored. So now that I have my mail, I’ll be wishing you a good day.
But I can’t, I just can’t. These people are generally older, abandoned and just in need of a conscience or semi-conscience mammal to talk at. I have to, because some day I may be Otis.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
As Long as You Have Your Health
I've seen fire and I've seen rain
I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend
But I always thought that I'd see you again
Growing up where I did in Massachusetts, my parents had a couple run-ins with James Taylor. For a time we lived near him, but I still don’t care for most of his music. That being said, the words to some of his songs still resonate with me to this day. Even taken out of context, they seem to have a power that makes them live on their own.
A couple weeks ago I spent several days tooling around the area where both Kela and I graduated from high school. When we lived in the area it was fairly well off. Now, with the median household income nearing $100,000 and the median home price closing in on $300,000, it is safe to say that it is quite an affluent area. And it was in one of my retracing of old haunts that I realized how insulated that area is from most of the country. In the middle of a recessions their restaurants overflow, their Bentley and Porsche dealerships flourish and, even in the most deprived areas, they still seem very comfortable by national standards.
Spending time in a city like such as that, I can understand why some people don’t grasp the weight of poverty that smothers so many in this county. I would like to stereotype them as people who think that the poor are those who can’t afford organic food or drive cars with dents in them; that their biggest gift back to the world was that trip to Africa where they traded food and medicine to anyone who would accept Jesus as their lord and savior; or as people who never had to explain to a child why it needed to sleep through their hunger, but that would not be fair. You cannot judge someone by what they have never had the chance to learn. Instead, I fault our ever increasing segregation into socioeconomic classes, devoid of class mobility, and encouraged by companies catering to those specific sects. We have become a society who does not want to be reminded of those we’ve left behind.
From my generation back to the baby boomers, we are at best one generation out and two thoughts away from any true understanding of hardship. For the most part, we don’t go places in this country where they are likely to see it pain, suffering or poverty. Sure we may encounter a homeless mother on the street, but they will never see where and how she and her children live. We no longer understand what poverty means to them.
So maybe a quick reminder is due: Poverty and its outcomes are hunger and the lack of shelter. It’s the knowledge that if you get sick without insurance, it will mean living on the streets. Real poverty is not having access to school, not knowing how to read, not having or being able to find a job, having an all-consuming fear of the future, living one day at a time or losing a child or family member to illness brought about by living conditions. Real poverty is powerlessness, lack of representation and an absence of freedom.
When I see people speak up against nationalized health care, I wonder who these people think that this is for. Do they honestly think that people don’t want to work, want to live off of the system and are truly a mass of degenerates who deserve nothing but our scorn? These are real people, stuck within a system that we created and support, and whose numbers are expanding at an extraordinarily fast rate. Every day, former middle-class Americans, previous neighbors of you and I, become part of their numbers. Of course no one knows that because they are forced out of their communities, to places their former neighbors would never visit, to be forgotten and treated as soulless government welfare recipients.
Ted Kennedy died this week. He died before having a chance to see his lifelong goal of health care for all Americans become a reality. And it was during one of the blisteringly long memorandums televised in his honor that Fire and Rain, performed by Boston born James Taylor, was played in the background of rotating stills of Kennedy’s life. Inappropriate as I found the touted connection, the words struck me as poignant.
Even though I’ve lived a life of reasonable comfort and have done what I could to pass that on to others, I have seen true poverty, I have seen politics, organizations and well-meaning individuals fail to save the weakest among us, I know the smell of depravity as it heads toward the inevitable and I have seen death for sheer lack of powerlessness. Still through all that I have seen and experienced, I always thought that when called upon, we as a country would come together, rise up as one and reach out to help those in need, one more time again. Now I’m not so sure.
I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend
But I always thought that I'd see you again
Growing up where I did in Massachusetts, my parents had a couple run-ins with James Taylor. For a time we lived near him, but I still don’t care for most of his music. That being said, the words to some of his songs still resonate with me to this day. Even taken out of context, they seem to have a power that makes them live on their own.
A couple weeks ago I spent several days tooling around the area where both Kela and I graduated from high school. When we lived in the area it was fairly well off. Now, with the median household income nearing $100,000 and the median home price closing in on $300,000, it is safe to say that it is quite an affluent area. And it was in one of my retracing of old haunts that I realized how insulated that area is from most of the country. In the middle of a recessions their restaurants overflow, their Bentley and Porsche dealerships flourish and, even in the most deprived areas, they still seem very comfortable by national standards.
Spending time in a city like such as that, I can understand why some people don’t grasp the weight of poverty that smothers so many in this county. I would like to stereotype them as people who think that the poor are those who can’t afford organic food or drive cars with dents in them; that their biggest gift back to the world was that trip to Africa where they traded food and medicine to anyone who would accept Jesus as their lord and savior; or as people who never had to explain to a child why it needed to sleep through their hunger, but that would not be fair. You cannot judge someone by what they have never had the chance to learn. Instead, I fault our ever increasing segregation into socioeconomic classes, devoid of class mobility, and encouraged by companies catering to those specific sects. We have become a society who does not want to be reminded of those we’ve left behind.
From my generation back to the baby boomers, we are at best one generation out and two thoughts away from any true understanding of hardship. For the most part, we don’t go places in this country where they are likely to see it pain, suffering or poverty. Sure we may encounter a homeless mother on the street, but they will never see where and how she and her children live. We no longer understand what poverty means to them.
So maybe a quick reminder is due: Poverty and its outcomes are hunger and the lack of shelter. It’s the knowledge that if you get sick without insurance, it will mean living on the streets. Real poverty is not having access to school, not knowing how to read, not having or being able to find a job, having an all-consuming fear of the future, living one day at a time or losing a child or family member to illness brought about by living conditions. Real poverty is powerlessness, lack of representation and an absence of freedom.
When I see people speak up against nationalized health care, I wonder who these people think that this is for. Do they honestly think that people don’t want to work, want to live off of the system and are truly a mass of degenerates who deserve nothing but our scorn? These are real people, stuck within a system that we created and support, and whose numbers are expanding at an extraordinarily fast rate. Every day, former middle-class Americans, previous neighbors of you and I, become part of their numbers. Of course no one knows that because they are forced out of their communities, to places their former neighbors would never visit, to be forgotten and treated as soulless government welfare recipients.
Ted Kennedy died this week. He died before having a chance to see his lifelong goal of health care for all Americans become a reality. And it was during one of the blisteringly long memorandums televised in his honor that Fire and Rain, performed by Boston born James Taylor, was played in the background of rotating stills of Kennedy’s life. Inappropriate as I found the touted connection, the words struck me as poignant.
Even though I’ve lived a life of reasonable comfort and have done what I could to pass that on to others, I have seen true poverty, I have seen politics, organizations and well-meaning individuals fail to save the weakest among us, I know the smell of depravity as it heads toward the inevitable and I have seen death for sheer lack of powerlessness. Still through all that I have seen and experienced, I always thought that when called upon, we as a country would come together, rise up as one and reach out to help those in need, one more time again. Now I’m not so sure.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Entry for August 26, 2009
Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho'
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
- Alfred, Lord Tennyson
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
- Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Or so he said on his blog
To help with some research for a friend of mine, I've spent the last couple of weeks reading over various blogs in search of a specific pattern that he believes might exist. It was during that time that I realized that never before in the history of man have so many people with so little to say said so much to so few. My hope now is to spur a revival in selective illiteracy to save humanity from having to read the drivel of the rest of humanity. Feel free to start now.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Entry for August 10, 2009
Something that I noticed today: TV manufactures don’t want you to buy their products. I’ve come to this conclusion after looking at their ads and noticing that everything displayed on their TVs are things that you could be doing if you weren’t sitting on your ass watching TV.
Friday, August 07, 2009
Pretty Worthless Girl
You are in line in front of me again. I see you everywhere talking on the phone, with a gaggle of other girls, adjusting your bra and skirt. You’re usually smiling at nothing and happy to be you. I can’t blame you, you are very attractive. You have curves that make me play out hopeful scenarios in my head and a face that tells me that, if I just said the right thing, maybe.
Then you speak and it’s like Jessica Simpson being called upon in a college physics class. Legally Blonde in reality - except sometimes you’re brunette or black. That’s when I realize, again, it’s all that you have. Sure some extracurricular activities exist, but they are all forgettable and add nothing. Sugar-free eye candy, a sports car lacking a soul, just a picture of the most beautiful woman in the world.
I’ve had you more times than I care to admit. You are horrible in bed. Unskilled and boring. An effigy to beauty.
I cannot remember why it was that I thought that you would be different this time. That all of your talents would be equal to your shell. Again I realize that I’ve been deceived by advertising and bought the new model because it looked just different enough to renew my hope. Again you were a mythical white deer caught in the headlights. Again you made me long for you and again my victory was empty. No different than the worst of anyone else.
Maybe it’s the height from which I pushed you. Perhaps there is no way for you to have proven your worth. It could be that I tire of you in each of your forms, but I don’t ever remember when the effort was equal to the reward. Again I see you in line in front of me and I’m hoping you are the same.
Then you speak and it’s like Jessica Simpson being called upon in a college physics class. Legally Blonde in reality - except sometimes you’re brunette or black. That’s when I realize, again, it’s all that you have. Sure some extracurricular activities exist, but they are all forgettable and add nothing. Sugar-free eye candy, a sports car lacking a soul, just a picture of the most beautiful woman in the world.
I’ve had you more times than I care to admit. You are horrible in bed. Unskilled and boring. An effigy to beauty.
I cannot remember why it was that I thought that you would be different this time. That all of your talents would be equal to your shell. Again I realize that I’ve been deceived by advertising and bought the new model because it looked just different enough to renew my hope. Again you were a mythical white deer caught in the headlights. Again you made me long for you and again my victory was empty. No different than the worst of anyone else.
Maybe it’s the height from which I pushed you. Perhaps there is no way for you to have proven your worth. It could be that I tire of you in each of your forms, but I don’t ever remember when the effort was equal to the reward. Again I see you in line in front of me and I’m hoping you are the same.
Wednesday, August 05, 2009
Astroturf
For those of you who aren’t sure how politics works behind the scenes, let me take a minute to give you an example of what the average American never sees or hears. This is how current anti-health care reform movement was created and how it is still run today:
Almost all grassroots movements, whether Liberal or Conservative, usually have, at their root, organizations run by heavily sponsored corporate interests that orchestrate the dissemination of information and organize the movement of pawn-like individuals to represent their interests in the most public places possible. If you ever want to find out why the latest grassroots movements came into being or where it is going, simply look at who backs them.
For information on current anti-health reform faction, simply check out Americans for Prosperity website, currently working under the subsidiary of Patients First. Their Director is Art Pope, who has North Carolina Republican Party Headquarters named after him, and whose National Chairman is David Koch, the 19th richest man in the world and the co-owner of the largest private oil company in the US. Their organization perfectly represents the real driving force behind this current anti-health reform drive. Furthermore, their website claims that they are run and comprised by normal, hardworking middle-class people, who just happen to be busing people across the country to cause disruptions at Town Hall meetings, sometimes thousands of miles away from their own homes.
This is what these groups do. They are experts at fake grassroots campaigns that promote corporate interests. Americans for Prosperity is the exact same company that drummed up support for its anti-stimulus rallies earlier this year and organized a national campaign against the notion that global warming exists. It is the same company that paid for Joe the Plumber to travel around the country to protest the Employee Free Choice Act’s pro-labor legislation. This oil industry and Republican Operative millionaires club is, according to the Republican Party Spokesman today, “just regular, average American folks.” I can almost see them now: just sitting around the kitchen table talkin’ about whether or not they can get away with saying that the government has a secret plot to kill old people.
These guys are the pros, this is an industry. Americans are now being bused to these events to stop the discussion and rattle congressman. Sure they are enraged, but it is in part because they are being riled up by over-the-top fabricated conspiracy theories about health care. And they are being directed and orchestrated by the corporate interests that do this for a living and do it very well. Add to this a media company that directly caters to, and is funded by these same special interests, and you have a formidable publicity movement with a very specific goal in mind.
So none of these protests are grassroots in any way. This is about as organic as the McRib. This is how corporate America creates the illusion of a grassroots movement to support their own interests. This is their job, they are professionals at this and this is an industry. To talk about these town hall events as some sort of natural outpouring of average American folks that have concerns about health care is to be willfully blind as to what is really going on. What is really going on is that there are professional PR operatives, generating exploitive, manufactured, strategically deployed disruptions in order to line their own pockets. These PR people get paid a lot of money for doing it and the corporations that pay for it get to kill legislation that would hurt their profits. And the real people, who they launch into these town hall settings, after they’re told that health care reform is some evil socialist plot to kill old people and to mandate sex changes, those real people get angrier and more alienated every day. Ultimately they will get left, like the rest of us, with a health care system that is broken, doesn’t work in the interests of the American people, but does work in the interest of the corporations that profit from the way the system is now.
This is what politics looks like behind your back. Both sides always have and always will do it. What I ask of you is this: don’t give them that power. The biggest secret in Washington is that you, the people, have the final say because it is you, the voters, who decide who stays and who goes. If enough of you tell your Congressman that this type of activity is not how you wish to see your country behave, it will stop. If enough of you say that you don’t want to be told what to believe, it will make a difference. If enough of you finally decide that you have had enough of this manipulative practice, the country may even have a chance to debate this issue in an open and honest setting – devoid of special interest groups, PR firms and lobbyists trying to dictate what you think. That is, if enough of you still think that you matter.
Almost all grassroots movements, whether Liberal or Conservative, usually have, at their root, organizations run by heavily sponsored corporate interests that orchestrate the dissemination of information and organize the movement of pawn-like individuals to represent their interests in the most public places possible. If you ever want to find out why the latest grassroots movements came into being or where it is going, simply look at who backs them.
For information on current anti-health reform faction, simply check out Americans for Prosperity website, currently working under the subsidiary of Patients First. Their Director is Art Pope, who has North Carolina Republican Party Headquarters named after him, and whose National Chairman is David Koch, the 19th richest man in the world and the co-owner of the largest private oil company in the US. Their organization perfectly represents the real driving force behind this current anti-health reform drive. Furthermore, their website claims that they are run and comprised by normal, hardworking middle-class people, who just happen to be busing people across the country to cause disruptions at Town Hall meetings, sometimes thousands of miles away from their own homes.
This is what these groups do. They are experts at fake grassroots campaigns that promote corporate interests. Americans for Prosperity is the exact same company that drummed up support for its anti-stimulus rallies earlier this year and organized a national campaign against the notion that global warming exists. It is the same company that paid for Joe the Plumber to travel around the country to protest the Employee Free Choice Act’s pro-labor legislation. This oil industry and Republican Operative millionaires club is, according to the Republican Party Spokesman today, “just regular, average American folks.” I can almost see them now: just sitting around the kitchen table talkin’ about whether or not they can get away with saying that the government has a secret plot to kill old people.
These guys are the pros, this is an industry. Americans are now being bused to these events to stop the discussion and rattle congressman. Sure they are enraged, but it is in part because they are being riled up by over-the-top fabricated conspiracy theories about health care. And they are being directed and orchestrated by the corporate interests that do this for a living and do it very well. Add to this a media company that directly caters to, and is funded by these same special interests, and you have a formidable publicity movement with a very specific goal in mind.
So none of these protests are grassroots in any way. This is about as organic as the McRib. This is how corporate America creates the illusion of a grassroots movement to support their own interests. This is their job, they are professionals at this and this is an industry. To talk about these town hall events as some sort of natural outpouring of average American folks that have concerns about health care is to be willfully blind as to what is really going on. What is really going on is that there are professional PR operatives, generating exploitive, manufactured, strategically deployed disruptions in order to line their own pockets. These PR people get paid a lot of money for doing it and the corporations that pay for it get to kill legislation that would hurt their profits. And the real people, who they launch into these town hall settings, after they’re told that health care reform is some evil socialist plot to kill old people and to mandate sex changes, those real people get angrier and more alienated every day. Ultimately they will get left, like the rest of us, with a health care system that is broken, doesn’t work in the interests of the American people, but does work in the interest of the corporations that profit from the way the system is now.
This is what politics looks like behind your back. Both sides always have and always will do it. What I ask of you is this: don’t give them that power. The biggest secret in Washington is that you, the people, have the final say because it is you, the voters, who decide who stays and who goes. If enough of you tell your Congressman that this type of activity is not how you wish to see your country behave, it will stop. If enough of you say that you don’t want to be told what to believe, it will make a difference. If enough of you finally decide that you have had enough of this manipulative practice, the country may even have a chance to debate this issue in an open and honest setting – devoid of special interest groups, PR firms and lobbyists trying to dictate what you think. That is, if enough of you still think that you matter.
I Am Not Impressed by Your Tattoo
Everyone has a tattoo. Everyone.
Last week, while eating at a small diner in SC, I was talking to a 65 year-old waitress who was overjoyed to show me her new tattoo. It was a small dragon hatching out of its shell and was meant to commemorate the birth of her first grandchild. A week before ,I had to suffer through a muted conversation one aisle over at a book store in Georgia between two female seniors in high school talking about their matching Tinkerbelle tattoos. This has got to stop.
Now don’t get me wrong. I’m all for free expression and the liberty to do whatever it is to your body as you see fit. As long as you are of an age/maturity level to take responsibility for your actions, I’m all for experimenting. That being said, I’m sick of hearing about it. Woo-hoo, you have butterfly tattoo on your ankle. Gee whiz, no one would have ever thought to put a tribal-looking design right above her ass. Ancient Chinese symbols on your back; I bet you’re the first to get those. A bit of barbwire around your bicep? That sure looks tough on your skinny frame.
Look, the reason to get a tattoo used to be because they were slightly rebellious and cool. But now they’re passé. They are the Crocs of self-expression. It’s like telling the world, “Hey, look at me, I would have been cool 10 years ago!” So please, if you get a tattoo, just keep it to yourself. Because the rest of us are bored by your tired self-expression.
Last week, while eating at a small diner in SC, I was talking to a 65 year-old waitress who was overjoyed to show me her new tattoo. It was a small dragon hatching out of its shell and was meant to commemorate the birth of her first grandchild. A week before ,I had to suffer through a muted conversation one aisle over at a book store in Georgia between two female seniors in high school talking about their matching Tinkerbelle tattoos. This has got to stop.
Now don’t get me wrong. I’m all for free expression and the liberty to do whatever it is to your body as you see fit. As long as you are of an age/maturity level to take responsibility for your actions, I’m all for experimenting. That being said, I’m sick of hearing about it. Woo-hoo, you have butterfly tattoo on your ankle. Gee whiz, no one would have ever thought to put a tribal-looking design right above her ass. Ancient Chinese symbols on your back; I bet you’re the first to get those. A bit of barbwire around your bicep? That sure looks tough on your skinny frame.
Look, the reason to get a tattoo used to be because they were slightly rebellious and cool. But now they’re passé. They are the Crocs of self-expression. It’s like telling the world, “Hey, look at me, I would have been cool 10 years ago!” So please, if you get a tattoo, just keep it to yourself. Because the rest of us are bored by your tired self-expression.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
The Road Less Traveled
This last week heralded yet another awkward public moment: a white man of privilege took umbrage with someone of a stereotypically lower class for having the gall to say that her background was somehow better than his own. Republican after Republican took shots at Supreme Court elect Sonia Sotomayor for having the nerve to have once uttered, “I would hope that a wise Latina woman with the richness of her experiences would more often than not reach a better conclusion than a white male who hasn't lived that life”.
The media circus ensued, complete with a previously outed racist Republican, launching quasi-bigoted remarks and attempting to get her to respond in some sort of super Hispanic way in hopes that she would scare every white person within 10,000 miles. Overall, the all-white male Republican panel took great pains in claiming that they will not be discriminated against for working to keep their status quo.
The problem with their base argument is that they are completely dismissing taking pride in the difference in paths that some people are required to take to reach their level of importance. This is at odds with the fact that they are always claiming that anyone can pull themselves up by their bootstraps. So there sat a proud Latina woman, one of the absolute underdogs in our society, being grilled by some of the most entitled of our society about achieving the standard American underdog dream.
But maybe that’s just it. These guys have never been down a similar road; they have had life so full of privilege that they can’t even see the true value in overcoming grand obstacles. Anyone who came up through it, while noble, clearly doesn’t understand the way they believe things are and how they believe they should always be. If the system wasn’t fixed, wasn’t stacked in their favor, people like Sonya Sotomayor might just become the new entitled class. And that is something that brings out their true intolerance.
The media circus ensued, complete with a previously outed racist Republican, launching quasi-bigoted remarks and attempting to get her to respond in some sort of super Hispanic way in hopes that she would scare every white person within 10,000 miles. Overall, the all-white male Republican panel took great pains in claiming that they will not be discriminated against for working to keep their status quo.
The problem with their base argument is that they are completely dismissing taking pride in the difference in paths that some people are required to take to reach their level of importance. This is at odds with the fact that they are always claiming that anyone can pull themselves up by their bootstraps. So there sat a proud Latina woman, one of the absolute underdogs in our society, being grilled by some of the most entitled of our society about achieving the standard American underdog dream.
But maybe that’s just it. These guys have never been down a similar road; they have had life so full of privilege that they can’t even see the true value in overcoming grand obstacles. Anyone who came up through it, while noble, clearly doesn’t understand the way they believe things are and how they believe they should always be. If the system wasn’t fixed, wasn’t stacked in their favor, people like Sonya Sotomayor might just become the new entitled class. And that is something that brings out their true intolerance.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
I Wish There Was a God
I wish that there was a God because I also want to believe in magic, super powers, dragons, Hobbits, telekinesis and vampires. If there was a God I would be able to walk through wardrobes into other worlds; I could hold conversations with animals and learn to fly; I would probably even take up a job as a teleportational travel agent. I wish that there was a God so that I could visit parallel dimensions and battle mythic creatures of evil. If there was a God any and all of my wishing could being true. But there isn’t and that’s okay. Enough exists in this world to keep me occupied and full of wonder for my entire life.
Friday, July 17, 2009
This is a blog that some people don’t want you to read
Hello,
This is a message that someone doesn’t want you to hear. It turns out that someone has been keeping some information from you and only we are able to tell you what it is. That’s right, for a small fee we can tell you what you are missing, what things those people have been hiding from you and what you could have right now if you only knew. Please act now because those people aren’t going to tell you any time soon. If you would like to find out what you are missing in your life, operators are standing by.
Thank you,
The People Who Really Care About You (and really aren’t just trying to sell you something)
This is a message that someone doesn’t want you to hear. It turns out that someone has been keeping some information from you and only we are able to tell you what it is. That’s right, for a small fee we can tell you what you are missing, what things those people have been hiding from you and what you could have right now if you only knew. Please act now because those people aren’t going to tell you any time soon. If you would like to find out what you are missing in your life, operators are standing by.
Thank you,
The People Who Really Care About You (and really aren’t just trying to sell you something)
Thursday, June 04, 2009
Observations from Last Night’s Rusted Root Concert
To the girl dancing off beat behind me, rock on.
The best thing about the front row is being able to see the set list.
Why are you trying to take pictures of a music event? It's like just recording the audio of two people having sex.
A good live band will make you resent their studio albums.
You with the tambourine, thanks for participating.
Later, as you’re watching your cell phone recording of this concert, you’re going to wish you had paid more attention.
Any band that will meet with their fans after the show deserves higher t-shirt sales.
In every good concert there is a moment where the audience and band fuse and this new singularity howls, sweats and ungulates with a unified purpose. If you stop to recognize it, you'll miss it. So it’s best to shut up and enjoy the show.
The best thing about the front row is being able to see the set list.
Why are you trying to take pictures of a music event? It's like just recording the audio of two people having sex.
A good live band will make you resent their studio albums.
You with the tambourine, thanks for participating.
Later, as you’re watching your cell phone recording of this concert, you’re going to wish you had paid more attention.
Any band that will meet with their fans after the show deserves higher t-shirt sales.
In every good concert there is a moment where the audience and band fuse and this new singularity howls, sweats and ungulates with a unified purpose. If you stop to recognize it, you'll miss it. So it’s best to shut up and enjoy the show.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Brian’s Favorite Overstuffed Breakfast Burrito
Most of my breakfasts are fairly involved as I believe that morning is the time to put your best foot forward. It sets the tone for the rest of the day and tells those around you that you are willing to put in the work for a good payoff.
Note: This is best made with the leftover steak (steak from the night before, fajita meat… anything not stewed) or uncooked white mushrooms.
Ingredients:
¼ cup meat, diced or ¼ diced mushroom, diced
¼ diced onion
¼ diced green pepper
½ cup medium tomato, diced
¼ cup Monterey jack cheese with jalapeños, grated
¼ cup sharp cheddar cheese, grated
3 large eggs
1 tbsp heavy cream
2 tbsp sour cream
2 dashes Red Hot or Tabasco
1 12” flour tortilla
3 tbsp butter
2 tsp fresh cilantro, coarsely chopped
Melt 1 tbsp of butter in skillet and cook onions and peppers until soft, add meat (or mushrooms) and tomatoes, cook for 1 minute longer and turn out on a paper towel to dry.
Beat eggs, heavy cream, Red Hot or Tabasco in a bowl and set aside.
Wrap tortilla in a damp paper towel and microwave for 20 seconds, leave in microwave until eggs are cooked.
Reheat pan and melt 1 tbsp more of butter, add eggs and start to scramble by slowly pushing eggs from one side to another with a large rubber spatula. When about halfway cooked, add drained onions, peppers, tomatoes, meat (or mushrooms) and both cheeses. Continue to cook until dry and turn out into the center of tortilla.
Fold in tortilla like a burrito (without an open side). Add 1 tbsp of butter back to the pan and add burrito folded side down to pan. Flip when browned and remove to a plate when both sides are golden and delicious.
Top with sour cream, cilantro and serve immediately.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
