Tabula Scripta

Give or Take or Thereabouts

2011-08-21T00:41:00.000-07:00

Pants fit. You can tell. They match your contours, or at least as much as you want them to. You know they're good because you get space where you need space and they're close where you need them to be close. Sizing them up is easy. You can tell pretty easily that they look good.

Unless you grow. Then the situation get messed up and if your as old as I am, it probably means you got fat, and that's just upsetting for other reasons. If you got thin then good for you, but I'm already relatively thin and especially being male, it would probably be better if I got fat.

What if I said you didn't know what you want. Your still figuring out where you want space or don't need it. Maybe you're not sure what you like just yet. What's worse, you just keep growing in weird and funky ways. Buying jeans becomes more complicated. Some might just say screw it and decide they want sweat pants, and some might say those people are slobs, and make fun of those people. I'm not saying don't wear sweat pants, but I will tease you about it.

Let's take the obvious mental leap and realize that this isn't a fashion blog, and that pants are a metaphor for significant others (many of you are saying 'duh, really?', and to you I say, 'how very 90's of you'). The jeans analogy still holds except that there are an large number of dimensions, and the jeans also grow, which is weird, especially in the crotch area (yes, I'm that immature). The other thing is wondering where I need to grow. There some space for me to fill, but how much should I change and how much should I expect from my jeans?

Reality Challenged

2009-12-23T21:47:00.000-08:00

From a young age, we are taught to live by certain rules. Schools teach you to speak when spoken to, and listen to people of authority. While that can keep you from getting a arrested, schools work you into wonderfully strange patterns.

If only you could solve your marital problems by answering a math question, or maybe score a new client at work by passing a spelling test. The trouble is schools give you the problems to solve and tell you the solutions that are 'okay'. They give you all the rules to try to get you to think a certain way. As many of us have found out, life is a little trickier than that. If you've ever had to work with someone fresh out of college that just kept asking you if what they did is 'close enough', you know where I'm coming from. I'm not opposed to people checking their work, but if you don't appreciate the goal of what you're trying to do, me putting a check mark on it won't solve your problem. Luckily, it doesn't seem to take too much real world experience to break someone of those habits.

Academia has this issue with the theoretical world. The problem is that that's where it lives, and the rest of us that don't live there are often a little busier and little more preoccupied with a little thing called reality. Phd's are a particularly good demonstration of this fact. When it comes to hiring them, they can talk the talk, but have them put pen to paper and see what little they can really do. Many of them have spent so much time thinking about problems and so little time solving them that frankly, they just aren't that good at it. Granted, they can and often have done some wonderful things, but their lack of practical experience and practical understanding often puts them at a disadvantage at least in my profession.

Of all the evils that schools have bestowed upon us. I'd say that grades are the worst. Students are made to understand that they these numbers are what matters rather than the material they might be learning. They cheat, bargain and whine to get higher ones. Competition intensifies the longer they stay in school. Med school students are often sited as the worst example, allegedly cutting up library text books to get an edge of other students. Frankly, I don't care if my surgeon was 6th or 106th in his class. I'm a tad more interested if they can manage the procedure.

Hey Mackey, you're a swine.. and a pretty smart one too

2009-10-01T08:34:00.000-07:00

John Mackey is not an evil guy. I had a look at his op ed piece in the wall street journal (link here) and I'd just like to make it clear that he really does mean well. He has good intentions. I'm positive he truly believes that a single payer system is detrimental to the state of health care in the United States.
Whether he's right about that or not is one thing, but he brings up some great points that should be address regardless of a single payer system:

* Reforming tort law - This is nothing shy of a great idea. The US is known for frivolous lawsuits and a general lack of personal responsibility. Fixing the problems here would reduce the cost of malpractice insurance and those savings should be get passed on to the consumer (eventually).There are also a number of side benefits like keeping doctors out of court rooms rather than say I don't know, a doctor's office? and how about freeing up the court system?

* Equalizing tax laws - Separate health insurance is always going to exist, and it's absolutely ridiculous how much it costs to insure yourself in this country. Without the tax benefits provided by employee programs, it's hardly surprising that many of those without jobs that provide these programs do not have it.

Despite having some very good insights into the system, Mackey still proves himself to be something of a jackass. He seems to believe that not only do we not have the right to health care (supposedly guaranteed by the Declaration of Human Rights), but that people without health care should rely on charity,

[The government should] revise tax forms to make it easier for individuals to make a voluntary, tax-deductible donation to help the millions of people who have no insurance and aren't covered by Medicare, Medicaid or the State Children's Health Insurance Program.

By relying on charity, you effectively put needy people in a situation where they have to literally beg for their lives in order to survive.

It's not too hard to consider an unfortunate person in Mackey's health care system suffering from some condition that requires costly surgery or medication. Imagine now that he does not qualify for Medicare or Medicaid. Well, that's alright because healthcare is cheaper now and an responsible adult would purchase insurance especially if they could afford it. Of course, Mackey states in an earilier point, "[We should] repeal government mandates regarding what insurance companies must cover," and as you might imagine, it would be unconscionable for an insurance company to mislead customers into purchasing higher rate, lower coverage policies, or deny or delay valid claims. You're right, Mackey, that would never happen..
The bottom line is that when you don't guarantee health care as a right, you have to be okay with saying that some people can live and some can die. We could make the health care system far better than it is at the moment, but at the end of the day it always comes back to that.

What's it like when Phelps gets the Munchies?

2009-02-05T22:52:00.000-08:00

Michael Phelps did a horrible thing. No, it wasn't that he smoked the peace pipe. It wasn't that he disgraced Kellog's. It wasn't that let down millions of fans. It's that he joined this media circus in the first place. Seriously, what is an 8 time gold medalist doing being sponsored by a company like McDonald's? If theore's anything the youth of this continent don't understand, it's how to eat properly, and here we have one of America's greatest athletes hawking cheese burgers to earn a buck.

If there's anything he can take from this, it's that if want to get the money, you have to play the game. That means making sure none of your friends snap a pic of you doing anything short of smiling and giving a thumbs up.

The fact is the youth of America won't be corrupted by this anymore than Dutch children are corrupted by coffee shops in Amsterdam. Frankly, it would be nice if children here could learn what children there already know, it's not that big a deal! He's 23 and he's already been convicted of driving under the influence. I'm sure the guys back in Ann Arbor already knew Mike liked to kick back by smoking a bowl every now and again.

The man is a living legend. His accomplishment is nothing short of miraculous. Slightly more impressive might be Mark Spitz doing it with a mustache and without any special swimwear. Still, Phelps is a great Olympian and a hit from a bong isn't going to change that. Even if the trunks they'll be designing in 2016 might.

Terrorism and Relying on Good Intentions

2009-01-12T23:22:00.000-08:00

Sixty years ago a nation was created. A small nation with deeply religious roots. The land had to come from somwhere, and it came from a part of the world that had changed hands many times throughout its history. The group that got it wanted the land very badly and had settled there over time both because people didn't want them elsewhere and because they believed they belonged there. Of course, they still had to share it with the people already living there. In the end, control over the area shifted from the one group to another, and someone was left feeling a bit left out. Shouldn't they have control over the area? haven't they lived there long enough? isn't it important to them and their families as well? And, like any other disputed region, a bit of negative sentiment still exists today.

They are still arguing over who owns the area, and the two groups have come to blows many times. Many have died, more have been injured, and still more live in fear.

So, the UN has decided that they will call for an end to the violence. Too many people have died and there has been too much civilian suffering.

It reminds me of a problem at many workplaces. A CEO was once asked, "Can we make sure people always fill up the coffee maker when they've had the last cup?" "You can't ask people to have good intentions," he said. The fact is, people are sometimes going to leave the coffee maker empty unless they have a damn good reason to fill it up. Sure, nice people will fill it up when they're done, and more likely, if they aren't in a hurry, but unless there's a mechanism in place, you're still just relying on the fact that they're nice and that they'll feel like doing it.

Meanwhile, back in the Middle East, we are asking people to stop doing what they were doing because it's wrong. Fact. They know it's wrong (and maybe some don't even think that it is), and they're doing it anyway. Palestinians attack and Israelis retaliate with increased force, but the fighting does not stop. Missiles are still flying into Southern Israel. Tanks are still firing in Gaza city. The violence is horrible. Hundreds have died. Perhaps we should give them a bit more of a reason to stop than just asking nicely.

Scape Goats and How History Repeats Itself

2008-10-23T17:43:00.000-07:00

In times of crisis, there are a couple of certainties. One thing to note is that all those wonderful things you learned watching Saturday morning cartoons is wrong. Core values will not necessarily be strengthened, and definitely not at first. People won't necessarily band together to fight a common cause, and we might not ever be better for having gone through it. Not for sometime afterwards, and not permanently.
One thing that you can count on is that rather trying to seek a solution, people will generally look for a scape goat. It's happened many times throughout history. People like to lay blame. It makes them feel better about themselves.
In the case of the current economic crisis, I can blame Capitol Hill for scape goating former Federal Reserve Chairman Alan Greenspan. Mike Shneider, was quoted as saying, "He didn't have to be a cheerleader for imprudence." Are you serious? The man's job was to ensure the longest possible periods of sustainable growth for the economy, and he had to do with Reagan and W. sitting in the White House. I'm no expert, but I think he could've done worse. I find it reprehensible that they would insult this man, when he was looking at the same numbers everyone else was, and yes hindsight is 20/20. Is he perfect. No. He made assumptions. He was wrong. Though, I sincerely doubt he took his job of 40 years lightly.
Now he does shoulder the blame for a good portion of the decisions made, but frankly, I don't see how berating an old man is going to fix the credit crisis, bring companies out of federal protection, and otherwise fix an economy where given the option to take huge risks at other peoples' expense, companies did just that. Now aside from a few Lehman Brothers' execs, I don't see any of those guys spending hours on the Hill answering questions about the stupid moves they made. Hell, up until a while ago, I bet they all thought they were going to be fine. Instead they bring a loyal public servant out of retirement to say, "Look what you did to our economy!"

If only this were the first time. If only this were the first time blame was shunted rather than addressing the root cause of the issue. Everyone does it. The Greeks cast out beggars after natural disasters. The Nazis blamed their economic woes on the Jews.

And according to a sociology professor, this is when the binding together in solidarity happens, when you have someone to blame (Kenneth Westhues, Prof. of Sociology University of Waterloo, published in OHS Canada, Canada's Occupational Health & Safety Magazine, Vol. 18, No. 8, December 2002, pp. 30-36.) ! Hopefully now that we've blamed all our problems on Greenspan, the stock market will finally go back up.

Human nature disgusts me.

The Miracle of Corn Fed Cattle

2008-07-19T00:10:00.000-07:00

Corn Fed. Sounds great. A sign of quality. Sounds a whole lot better than "animal bi-product fed" or "pumped full of antibiotics and hormones". Luckily, in our wonderful modern world we can get all 3 and cheap! That's right beef fans. Your cattle is getting fat off 2nd grade government subsidized corn. Grade A American beef is marbled to suit the consumer. That's right you get the great taste of beef full of the fat that makes it extra tasty. What that you say? Fat is bad for you? It's ok. You are what you eat, and the US keeps its cattle healthy with a regular dose of antibiotics. In fact, they are so concerned with quality they give more drugs to their beef than they do to their people. They don't stop there, though. Nope, where would quality be without quantity? Rest assured, each cow is given a bare minimum of space in order to maximize the efficiency of the land. That would just be pointless rhetoric without numbers, though. In 2003, the US meat machine managed to process over 35 million cattle.

Well, if your not convinced, take a look at the competition. Canadian beef outlawed the use of hormones in its cattle. Argentine beef, the so called "best beef in the world", only eats grass. Now how much marbling could you possibly get out of that?

I didn't think I bought it, but I did

2007-10-07T21:11:00.000-07:00

The used car salesman bit is hard to swallow. You don't don't believe a word out of his mouth. You don't believe the prices on the cars and you sure as hell don't believe that bad come-over. You walk away feeling vindicated at the fact that you weren't taken by another shyster. Another slimy weasel didn't take you for an extra few grand and you feel great.

So why can a girl take you for nothing and make you feel ten times worse?

She's cute. She has great tits, and she's friendly as all hell. She'll touch you, she'll flirt, but when the dust has settled, you're not important. You're not a priority. If there's something else diverting her attention. You don't matter.

You tell yourself she's an attention whore. You tell yourself she just likes to be the star. So why don't you listen? Why don't you throw her out of your mind like all the others. Why isn't it so easy?

Frankly, I don't think you want to. I think you want to believe that she's touching you because you're hot. You're awesome, and all this effort you've been putting in over the years has paid off. You've got the moves and she's fallen for em.

So flip the switch and something else comes along. Another attractive male, another target, a tastier treat. What's that feeling when she dumps you like yesterday's news?

And you can't remember why you bought it in the first place.

Part I

2007-09-24T09:47:00.000-07:00

“Hey you! Stop!” a voice rang out in the terminal.

Sam panicked. When he panics, he gets scared, and when he’s scared, he runs. Bolting down the terminal floor he blew past dozens of startled onlookers. He darted left and right trying to obscure the view of his pursuer. Flying past the souvenir shop he grabbed the postcard display letting it crash the ground. Passing the Gelateria he bowled over an unsuspecting patron. Mocha Nocciola gelato = splattered everywhere.

He ran past the ice cream vendor and turned the corner at the sleazy terminal bar hoping to lose whoever it was that was after him. His bag was heavy, and it bounced hard on his back as he ran. Taking the corner, however, a force came down on him like a ton of bricks. That load was commanded by terminal security, more specifically ex-line-backer Tiny. Once an NFL prospect, Tiny had been expelled on drug charges. After that he dragged himself around the US trying out for practice squads only to end up a security thug on the East Coast. That had been a long time ago, and though he had been faster in his salad days, he was still more than a match for any post-grad vagabond lugging a 12 kilogram backpack.

At this point, Sam was crushed both literally and figuratively. He had heard a crack when he‘d hit the ground and he was afraid his hopes and dreams had been broken along with two of his ribs. He felt a trickle running down his back and his darkest fear was confirmed. That pain seemed incredibly real at that moment. Somehow it even felt more real than the 250 pound former All American sitting on top of him.

Nerding out at the Bar

2007-09-16T18:10:00.000-07:00

Generally when you go the bar there are lots of interesting things to look out for, and one of them is guys like me. Don't worry, I'm not deluded. I'm not there to try and pick up some poor girl after a long night of drinkin'. I'm not there to get super plastered and spend my night making offerings to the Porcelain Gods. I'm also certainly not there to dance up a storm and make come hither motions interspiced with the liquid-man.

I come from a select breed. I don't know how to make impromptu conversation with average people let alone average girls. While dancing I've been asked, "What's wrong with you?"on several occasions. My pickup stats are safely padded with leading zeros.

Sometimes we travel in packs. You can always spot us. We're the wall flowers sitting quietly at the side of the dancefloor. We don't talk so much as comment and nod occasionally while swaying to the beat. When we dance, we group together like a pack of epileptic frankensteins, and we're often the strange guys dancing slowly closer to the cute girls in hopes they might not turn away.

If you're a fan of the human freak show that is the bar... look out for us, we're a fun side show for when the 40 yr old flamenco guy goes for a beer.

Why Creationists Are Wrong

2007-08-05T00:32:00.000-07:00

Disclaimer: This piece isn't meant to assault the philosophy of those who believe in God or believe that some divine entity took some role in the creation of life at some point. It does however call all those people that argue their points incorrectly and inconsistently bloody idiots.

Sometimes I feel curious and I decide I want to find arguments to challenge the way I see the universe. So I decided I'd try to look at what the leading arguments were against evolution. I was, as you'll find, rather disappointed.

Prime Mover Argument

The arguments goes something like: Evolution doesn't explain how life began. This is true. It is also, of course, not trying to explain it. I completely agree that at some point something possibly completely unlike evolution happened to get the ball rolling. In fact, if someone could prove that a flatulent, alien, clown appeared out of thin air and expelled the first cell in a puff of methane and bad taste, it wouldn't change a thing about evolution.

Evolution is "Hard"

A lot of proponents of creationism like to point out how certain rather unlikely things have to happen for evolution to occur. I'd just like to remind them that though the probability is small, its happening over and over again with millions of organisms all the time and its been happening for billions of years. So, that tiny probability actually becomes something of a likelihood. Apparently the notion that the mechanisms that affect evolution is both highly random and highly probabilistic is hard for some people to swallow.

Living Fossils

My problem with the living fossil argument is essentially that I don't understand it. I'm not even sure it's an argument. A living fossil is an informal term for a species that has no close living relatives and that was only previously known via fossil. Somehow these things apparently disprove evolution.
Proponents of this argument seem to have it in their heads that the existence of a species is proof enough that it is not an ancestor of any existing organisms. I don't know why, but some people apparently have this notion that species of earlier links in the evolutionary chain must be exinct.

Preserved T. Rex Cells

Apparently in the 90's extraordinarily well preserved cells, bone and even collagen were found inside the hip bone of a T. Rex. So I started to think. Maybe the rock formation helped in preserving the bone. Maybe the thickness of the bone helped preserve the cells. I wasn't sure what had happened. Hoping for an explanation, I read on.

According to results from a scanning-electron microscope, the subject looks to only be about a few thousand years old.

I still hadn't really found the meat of the point so I kept going. Eventually the argument gets to this sentence:

Since unfossilized dinosaur bones are being found more commonly, and frozen mammoths with flesh still on the bones are well-known, it has become impossible for evolutionists to deny the discoveries.

Allow me to introduce the author of this piece to one of the modern world's favorite appliances. It's called a refrigerator and its been keeping food cold for over 80 years. But wait! There's more! Cold food stays fresher longer. Just like mammoths I would imagine.

But you know the author has a point. There is some mystery in the unfossilized bone of this dinosaur. The one thign I want to know, though, is how they stuck a few-thousand-year-old hip bone into a 65 million year old T. Rex corpse.

Old Friends

2007-07-12T01:26:00.000-07:00

They've been with you so long and sometimes you just obsess.
You can't remember how it started. You just know that its a mess.
You feel alone. You indulge yourself. So much that you get tangled.
Your not sure who to blame and your head is always mangled.
Sometimes they hurt you when you're around,
but mostly when you're not. You feel it tear, the knife digs deep, but you pretend you don't hear a sound.
You bury yourself in work, keep quiet and hide away.
You always go back, though, and burn yourself again.
In the worst of times you sit, shake your head and reflect
What happened to your life? where's your self-respect?
You blame them for your pain, and you need move away.
You hope that wherever you go, it won't follow you one day.
Though you don't know what you did, it's yourself you must forgive.
If you can figure that out you still might find a normal life to live.

Alone

2007-06-15T21:50:00.001-07:00

Parties are funny things. You go, and you meet people, and everyone is open and friendly. People are timid at first but eventually stories are exchanged, jokes are told, and alcohol begins to flow. Before you know it you're smiling and laughing. The night goes well and new stories are made, interesting conversations are had.
You meet people and form opinions and relationship dynamics start to form. Other ones develop. Feelings and ideas start to take shape. As the conversations take its turns, thoughts and ideas pop up and you find yourself picking between them. You want to share some experiences, but you stop short. Not everything is appropriate. Not everything fits.

A while later the lows of the alcohol or caffeine begin to hit, the morning hours are upon you and people start to fade off. They vanish into the night.
After a little while, you decide it's time. You and your friends set off for home. Another great night out.
You arrive at home, the lights are off, the place is quiet. Your shoes echo as they hit the floor. You're alone, and now that the music is finally gone and the sounds of laughter are just whispers in your ear, you can feel it. There is a hollowness. You yearn for contact. You need someone to absorb the stories you haven't told, the opinions you've developed, the ideas you've come up with.
A person to understand. Not so much a person to reason with, or to find a solution. Rather, you need a person to listen. To nod and smile. To sympathize. To agree.
You turn on your computer and move straight to MSN. Bill's out of town. John's probably asleep. Is Kate there? Do you really want to talk to your ex? She isn't. Your stuck.
The place is still empty. The rooms are still dark. You have to give up. You lie in bed. You turn off the light, and you feel it.

Idols

2007-04-17T21:21:00.000-07:00

Who do you look up to? Who did you look up to? What made you who you are? Did you make yourself? Did you make someone else? Is what made you what it should have been? Would you change you? Would you change what made you? If you changed it, would you still want to?

Who makes people today? Do you? Do Movie Stars? Actors? Does the actor make people? Does the person they're immitating make them? Do those people make us?

Do athletes? If athletes make athletes, why are we fat?

Do singers? If celebrities make celebrities, who will give us fame?

If our bellies are full, why do we eat? If our mind are empty, why do we not read? If we don't know we are broken, how do we fix it? If we know we are broken, why don't we fix it?

Yes and No.

2007-01-28T22:55:00.000-08:00

Invite a girl out and see what she says. Is it the truth? does it matter? When it really boils down to it you have 3 potential responses. She accepts and shows up. (No really this actually happens. A friend told me about it once.) She rejects you and you bite your lip and walk away. You might not bite your lip, but I'm going to suggest you try it. It stops you from saying something harsh. Or, she accepts and doesn't show up. By far the most unnerving and irritating. At this point you stand there, well groomed, well dressed, and well.. you just wish she'd just told you to fuck off. At least then you could've gone to the game with the guys. At least then you could've caught the 7 o'clock show at the AMC. At least then you could bite your lip, or even better you could not.

This is the world that I thought existed. This is the world that I'd grown to hate. My share of no's has definitely helped get me where I am today. A bitter, single guy with no real problems that can't land a girl for some reason or another. That's not the whole story, though. In fact, this is drastically oversimplified. There's a 5 letter word I hate more than all the times that special girl I'd been thinking about has been washing her hair or just liked me as a friend. That word is "Maybe". If you ever hear this awful, disgusting, vile excuse for a word... well, I can't help you. It means nothing to me. I'd often feel better if I hadn't asked the question. At least then I could say I'm certain your not coming because I didn't invite you. I don't have to plan around the fact that I might need to run home and get ready for the girl that probably won't come. I have to wait a couple of days and call her and then see if she's decided yet. That's a point where I feel pretty powerless. It feels like your on your knees at that point. You're begging. You're saying to her. "I really want you to come out with me. I need you." And then you're just coming on too strong, and what girl needs that?
On the other hand you could not call her. That one's a real winner. You'd be lucky to get a "maybe" ever again.
I once had a great idea. I told her to call me when she figured out if she could make it. I feel like a lot of guys are nodding their heads. The smart one's are silent. Do you know what this tells a girl? It means that she's responsible for making the decision and calling you afterwards. The burden's on her and not you. She doesn't want that. I mean she thought she could shrug you off with a "maybe". Now you're just being annoying. It's honestly never worked for me, but maybe you'll get a girl with a real "maybe". Not an "I don't want to hurt his feelings, so I'll just play with his head a little more" kind of "maybe" or better yet an "I don't have any plans yet, so I'm going to see if anything better comes along" sort of "maybe".
Maybe - one of the great modern phrases. It's right up there with, "I'll call you sometime."

I'm going to leave this one with a question. You invite a girl out innocently a few times and she says no politely each time. She makes it clear that she doesn't see people like you that often. You throw a party and decide not to invite her. Is she justified in getting angry at being snubbed? Because I'm have trouble finding my sympathy.

Conversation

2007-01-14T18:35:00.000-08:00

Sitting down to coffee with a few others.

I haven't said anything in 10 minutes. They'll think I'm weird. You don't know the guy, and you don't watch that show. Wait! I know! Nah. It's too late. The moment's passed. Hey that girl next to me. She's not talking. Maybe I could start a conversation with her. Alright. I could talk to her about a movie. You're drunk, aren't you? Didn't she want to go dancing? Definitely drunk. What should I say? How should I say it? Just let it come naturally. Naturally? Let what come?

"So, Dave. What have you been doing for that last few months?"

"Oh. I was in Seattle."

"Oh cool! How was Seattle?"

"It was nice. It's a cool city."

"Oh! Do you remember Jay?"

"Jay?"

"Sorry. I was asking John."

What the hell was that? What did you expect? A conversation? You don't know these people. Not sure I want to anymore. Just relax. How am I supposed to get anywhere if I can't... Relax. Okay. Okay? Okay!

"Dave, you were in Seattle right?"

"Yeah."

"What were you doing there?"

"Oh. I was doing an internship at Amazon."

"That's really cool."

"Yeah. I may actually be heading back out there for a full-time position."

"Nice. Congratulations."

"Thanks. So I may be headed back for a few years." Alright. You've got something going. "I was thinking after that I'd come back..." What are you doing? "and start my own thing." Stop. "I've always wanted to do that." Oh, dear.

"So, John. How's that band of yours?"

What? How did I lose her? Simple. You're a moron. What was wrong with that? You're trying to get her involved, not give her your life story. Well I just thought... Often the first sign of trouble.

After a joke.

See. It's not that hard. Uh Oh. She wasn't Polish was she? Oh no. I hate when they cry.

"You knew my dad was a priest!"

I just met her 5 minutes ago. Say something. What? Well, apologize at least. What was her name again? Amy?

"Amy..."

"Amanda!"

I knew it started with an A.

"It was a joke! I didn't mean anything by it!"

She keeps crying.

"C'mon. Let me buy you an ice cream."

Sniffles. "Okay."

A little later.

"Hey Dave. I'm headed out. You need a lift?"

"Sure. Thanks. I'll talk to everyone soon!" Well that went well. Look at the bright side... Which is? I wasn't anticipating a followup.

One of those letters you write but don't send...

2006-02-18T21:55:00.000-08:00

I've stopped foaming at the mouth for about 2 minutes to deliver some anecdotal evidence as to my own thoughts on the progression of society as a whole. Don't confuse this as the moment of clarity in a fit of rage, but rather just the whistling of an already over-boiled tea kettle of discontent. Being a rather old-fashioned gentleman of relatively few years on this rotting Earth I've been soured by recent events.
How many times can someone by stood up, cancelled on, let off the hook so to speak in a given period before they start to wonder, is it me? did I do something? do I project an air that promotes disrespect? or is it merely that society is to blame?
By and large being a gentleman, or by today's standard, a doormat, doesn't seem to serve anyone in this world unless they have some perverse sense of masochism. Upon requesting information in regards to a product or service you are more likely to receive better service if you are ill-tempered than if you are good natured. People see politeness as a sign of weakness. It is a sign that reads, "don't take me seriously, I'll just take it in ass and ask for more." Only when a customer is truly ill-mannered and harsh of hand will a sales clerk or support specialist or manager wake up and realize that proper courteousness and promptness is required.
These displays are not reserved for the realm consumables, however. This is a trend that persists into every part of our everyday lives. If someone I didn't know were to ask me to meet them somewhere at a particular time I could promptly flip a coin in my head to decide whether I believe they would arrive. Business transactions aside, social engagements carry little to no weight in the modern day person's mind as the contemporary view of one's "word", once the only thing a man had, now not even a concern with which to be trifled.
"Oh I'm sorry, I had a prior engagement" is usually one of the more acceptable albeit irritating comments I hear most often. Next is inevitably, "Oh I'm sorry I thought you said 3 not 4, I waited for you," but obviously no one called to ask where I was so it's an easy lie to detect. Another favorite that I recently was told, "Oh I'm sorry but I promised someone yesterday that I'd do something for them." To which I thought in my head at the time, "fuck you", knowing full well the plans were scheduled a week in advance, and by the apologetic party no less!
The sheer rate at which these thigns happen, thankfully not among close friends, is astounding. It's as though moral fiber, at least from my eyes, has dwindled, character decayed leaving only a people with such an immature and superficial sense of values that much of communication is now but noise echoing into a void.
Perhaps I exagerate, but I have unconsciously drifted to the point where I will not believe that a person will do what they say until they have proven that they will in fact do it, and not just once, but consistently. You might imagine that this has fairly intersting implications. For example, I will never be comfortable making a date with a girl I don't know well, unless I can be comfortable at the meeting place alone. I will assume that someone saying anything followed by the words "sometime" is just being friendly and has no real intention. In making arrangements with an unfamiliar party I dutifully inquire with my closer friends as to their whereabouts before I'm to be ditched.
I'm not immune to the notion that "shit happens", but when you're the unfortunate person to which it has happened so many times its difficult to shrug it off, try again, keeping that same faded smile.

S.A.D.

2006-02-09T19:24:00.000-08:00

Today I walked down the street in the bitter cold. The wind picked up as I crossed a parking lot and carried myself down another road. The muscles in my back were stiff and sore, but I pressed on around a corner and down another road. Another parking lot lead me to as yet another avenue as the snow began fall. This one was longer, however, and as I pushed forward the wind blew harder still, my lips chapped and fingers shrunken inside my gloves clinging to the warmth radiating weakly from my palm. I passed many persons as I plodded along, some familiar others new to this bleak, white and grey sort of purgatory. Finally, I crossed a busy street and arrived at the end of the first leg of the journey of which I was only too conscious to remove myself from.
Now began the waiting game. So I stood there, in the wind, in the snow neither grinning nor frowning. Neither anxious nor hesitant. Neither concerned nor ambivolent, but always painfully aware. I waited. I looked at the others who had gathered to share in our collective predicament. Not really so much a team, but rather a group of sympathizers who could only go so far as to do each other the favor of not stepping on each others feet. I stood out in front like a scout. My face remained as stone as I stared out into the white abyss waiting for a ray of light, but the cold did not fade and the so called 'chariot of the people' was slow in coming. So I stood still and waited.
I shut my eyes wishing somehow that the bus would come or that it wouldn't. I wasn't sure which, and it was in that moment of doubt that finally like some sort of half assed, half hearted, back handed miracle. The grey sardine can that was this city's 'chariot of the not quite so well financed' screeched and stopped in front of the lightly frozen group.
I stepped gingerly and waited my turn, but some of my fellow citizens were too eager and even broke the group's only unspoken rule. I winced in pain as the heal of a hardened work boot came down on my toe.
I stood patiently. At last it was my turn to ascend the steps of the awaiting carriage, but alas people were already crammed out as far as any could fit, and the driver shut the doors and pulled away. So I stood there frozen. My back sore, my foot in pain, my mind trapped within the confines of its own corporeal being. Straining, begging for some change, some sign, some signal, anything to let it free from this drabbest of the drab prisons. This was the morning of the workday commuter. But like so many before me, I did not yell. I did not lash out. I did not so much as groan as I was pushed toward a future of brutally tedious, mind numbing repetitiveness. Society could not crush my spirit, however, for at that moment I knew that inside I always already broken. So I stood quietly and waited.

Lazy Hazy Days

2005-07-19T07:06:00.000-07:00

It was a bright and shining morning in a small government office. The quiet hum of a half-dozen computers filled the air. The buzzing of the Carrier air conditioner chimed in on occasion to deliver a stunning duet reminiscent of other appliance masters like the prima donna Frigidaire or the late Viking sensation of the previous era. Sadly, this particular apparatus fell short of its refrigerator cousins leaving the room none too cool and somewhat humid.
A warm glow advanced from the south-facing window as noon approached. Altogether the air could be compared to a soft linen sheet wrapping its way around the human form, ever responsive to subtle movement and always providing a gentle comfort that would coax any loyal public servant into a trance-like state far removed from the unwaivering perserverance with which his duties are handled each and everyday.
Any of said employees might be particularly susceptible if they had been assailed and obliged to take advantage of the previous evening's first morning hours with the likes of charred animal flesh and malted intoxicants. If such an employee were to have been similarly accosted on several evenings consecutively, one might venture a guess that he could become a consistent victim of these siren-like vapours. Vapours that sing to him each and every morning drawing him into a waking slumber and leaving him not unlike one of Bruce Campbell's cinematic adversaries (although far more attractive).

Workday Anthem

2005-07-13T09:05:00.000-07:00

Clicking, Ticking, Buzzing, Humming
Glorious, rhythmic sounds of perpetual chatter
Biting, Gnawing, Scratching, Drumming
The drone-bot churns through pictorial matter

Analyzing, catalyzing, sending, receiving
Electronic nodes joyously play
Shifting, sifting, but never believing
The able mind is wasted each day

Efficiency, proficiency and utter Contentment
Words that echo from plastics metals and rocks
Repetition, attrition and pure resentment
The suffering of a man stuck in a box

A Walk in the Park...

2005-07-05T09:43:00.000-07:00

It was a rainy day in O-ville and I was taking a stroll in the park. At least it was, but by the time I pulled my uncooperative body out of bed, the sun was shining and the birds had decided it was their solemn duty to trumpet a late and far too chipper Reveille. So I suppose I should say it was a rainy morning, but I guess the old Pizzaville radio ad got the best of me. So picture if you please a younger gentleman of no great stature ambling down a quiet side street on his way to a relaxing government job that affords him the time to scratch out this very text (I might be exagerrating the gentleman part).
I'd describe it as the kind of day where I was a bit out of phase with the world about me. So out of phase that it was more as though I were sitting back inside my head watching a fuzzy, old TV set with my feet up on the couch, while my small, pseudo-athletic corporeality stumbled its way down the road, peering at the world as though it hadn't seen it every day for the last 22 years.
As I walked up to a stop street, the sun streamed in as the houses parted and I noticed a rather large German Shepherd happily trotting along with its master in tow. Then something strange happened. I heard a voice. There was something strange about it though, it didn't seem to flow with the optimistic fuzziness of the rest of the morning. I'm fairly sure I was far beyond the reach of the voice the first time, so it was prudent for the owner to repeat himself, this time more vociferously, "What are you lookin' at!"
Startled, I checked to make sure I was in fact the target of this verbal jab, and then tried to remind myself what it was I that I was looking at before my dream-like state had abruptly ended. It was in fact the case that the slightly taller gentelman casually dressed in a black t-shirt and grey shorts being escorted by the aforementionned canine had sought to affront me for reasons unknown. Noting his anger, I promptly responded with a confused look and the carefully chosen phrase, "Chill out, man." He proceeded to yell as I continued to stare with my classically puzzled face, threatening me with an assault from his four legged friend. Luckily his dog was the stronger of the two and had apparently no interest in me at all as he led his companion in the opposite direction to which I was walking.
I found myself distinctly irritated. I had lost the warm glow of my semi-consciousness state and what's more, I was late for work...