A Promised Rant

You know what I don't like? SUVs. They suck, and those who purchase them should be ashamed. Here's why.

They're not all that safe. SUVs, which are built higher than other cars, have a higher center of gravity. This makes them especially prone to rollovers, which account for the plurality of the really serious injuries sustained in auto accidents. Some people think that rollovers only occur rarely or in extreme conditions, but the fact is that most rollovers occur when a vehicle is tripped. SUVs can (and do) trip over obstacles even as low as curbs, which are found on just about every street on which most people drive. Pretty dangerous, huh? Auto companies have touted four-wheel (FWD) drive, which most SUVs have, as some enormous safety feature, when in actuality four-wheel drive doesn't enhance safety. FWD doesn't help in stopping a vehicle (all four-wheel vehicles have "four-wheel stop"), but those to whom SUVs have been sold drive as if it does. That's a dangerous illusion, and one which the auto industry has been happy to promote. In addition, most SUVs lack crumple zones, which transfer the force of a collision as much as possible to the vehicle, and not the driver. Therefore, if you get into a collision with your SUV, your SUV might be fine, but you probably won't be. I don't know about you, but I like the fact that my car sacrifices itself to save me. I'm funny that way.

They are a danger to others. As I've already noted, SUVs are much higher than sedans, which means in a head-on collision, an SUV can easily climb right over the hood of a sedan to strike the windshield and the driver behind it. Same for a side collision, but replace "windshield" with "smaller, weaker side window." In addition, SUVs are built on steel frames and often lack crumple zones, which in a collision makes them big, heavy battering rams. They obscure your line of sight in traffic, since you can't see around them to notice traffic backing up ahead of you, or the changing of a traffic light. Who needs advance warning of traffic conditions, anyway?

They make the environment worse. SUVs suck down gas as if it's limitless, which it most certainly is not. Combine that with the fact that gasoline comes from oil, alot of which is held in the Middle East by people who hate Americans and you've got the perfect blend of foolishness and avarice.

They're status symbols. SUVs are touted as off-road vehicles, but how many people actually drive them off-road? (Driveways do NOT count as off-road.) Would anyone in his right mind really take the Cadillac Escalade or the Lincoln Navigator off-road? As to their hauling capacity, most of what I see hauled by SUVs are children and groceries, and these can be handled most satisfactorily by minivans. However, Americans like to feel rough and tough, so they buy vehicles they think are rough and tough. SUVs are purchased because of their cachet, nothing more. Anyone who says differently is lying or naive.

For those of you who own SUVs and are offended, too bad. I won't lecture to you in real life, but on my blog, my rules. And on my blog, SUVs are dangerous, gas-sucking, attention-getting monstrosities, and anyone who buys them should be slapped several times.

Shock and Awe

You know about the beheading video, and if you don't, crawl out from under the rock and tune into CNN. Oh, and get ready for a rant.

This administration, headed by His Fraudulency George W. Bush, has been the most destructive in my lifespan. Arrogance mixed with ignorance, with a healthy dash of political canniness, is a dangerous mixture, and that's what the Supreme Court gave us in 2000. Bush's White House makes me long for the days of Ronald Reagan, and I never thought I'd say that. We have to get George Bush out of office. If you are as brassed off as I am about the damage Bush has done to our nation, please, please, please register to vote in November and help send that bastard right back to Texas, where he can only damage a state that likes him anyway. If you don't know how to register, email me and I will help you in whatever way I can. That's a promise.

Missed it and don't care

I missed Poetry on Your Blog Day and I don't care. I don't like poetry very much, if truth be told. Poetry sometimes makes me feel superficial, as if I'm just too stupid to get the point. Take the poem Sarcasmo posted, about the damn plums in the refrigerator. I have never been able to imagine why that poem is better than any other. Is there something I'm missing, or is that poem basically a wordier version what I might scrawl on a Post-It note? I'm not faulting anyone who likes the poem, but I just don't get it.

Ironically, while I was in college I experimented with writing poetry, and I actually enjoyed it, surprise surprise. Of course, most of what I wrote was jokey, like this:

I think that I shall never see a poem fair as my ID
You point me out when I am strange
A beacon true if I should range
And if, by chance, I car should squash these outer bones and inner mush
Your firmness then in plastic tones proclaims to whom this jelly owns
Oh photo ID! Oh photo ID!
Oh grasshopper and katydid!
May nature never craft by touch a credit card I love so much

I actually turned in that poem in a college course, and to my utter shock the instructor loved it. He went on and on about the meter and blah blah, and I'm thinking, "Umm, I was just making fun of poetry." See? I didn't get poetry then, and I don't get it now.

You know what I like?

- Sweet Tarts. These are sweet, sweet, evil. They come in a variety of colors and flavors, they're packed in a handy little roll, and they have this cool chalky consistency that makes them even neater to grind between your teeth. Or my teeth, anyway.

- Jill Sobule. Her songs are simple and yet interesting, and she doesn't set out to prove how smart she is. She doesn't have to. Were I a singer-songwriter, and female, I'd be Jill Sobule.

- Chicken. Fry it, bread it, bake it, barbecue it. Put it on bread, under cheese, beside rice, or stuff it with ham. Serve it hot or cold, in a plate or directly into my grubby little hands, I don't care. I'll eat it and like it.

- Franka Potente. The star of "Run Lola Run", "Anatomie", and "The Princess and the Warrior", Potente is sexy, smart, and driven. In "Lola" she had bright red hair, too. Yes.

- Ultimate Frisbee. My one and only sport, I just can't get enough of Ultimate. It doesn't take much skill to join, the rules are easy to learn, and it's self-refereed, which helps reduce on-field tension. I've been playing for seven years, and I find it as enticing now as I did then. There's nothing quite like the feeling of a well-timed flick that skims a foot above the ground to thwack satisfyingly into your teammate's hands just inside the zone.

You know what I hate?

- Painter's jeans. Only people who are actual tradesmen are allowed to wear these things; all others are fakes and trend-hoppers.

- People who talk overmuch about the weather. This is worst during the winter, when a morning forecast for three inches of snow becomes a blizzard by the evening. It's like Whisper Down the Lane with a madness-causing agent.

- Naming conventions. If I don't find out that there actual African people with made-up-sounding names like Aquanda, Tanisha, and Kia, I'm gonna be really angry. I also hate those names that are adapted from common names with the first letter changed, like Taren or Tevin. I reserve special scorn for common names spelled in an annoyingly quirky fashion, like Sandi and Jacqui. Oh, and hyphenated names? They suck. Ladies, take his name, give him yours, or keep your own, but don't try to act semi-liberated by jamming the two together with a hyphen in the middle. A name like Moss-Coane sort of works (in a way), but Galiano-Bagaglia? No, no, no.

- Dog-owners. Some people have this belief that they know their dogs inside and out, and trust in this belief so well that they let their dogs run attended and unleashed, knowing that the animals pose no danger to anyone. It ain't true. I walk around Bala Cynwyd at lunch, on secluded little streets, and to date I've been threatened by dogs on three separate occasions. One dog wasn't very big but was plenty aggressive, but my bluffing was evidently convincing enough to back it down. The second was a big German Shepherd that was content to drive me away from the house in which it lived (that dog could have done me some damage had it felt perkier that day). The third came right up to me, tail down and growling; this one wasn't fucking around. I took a few swings to drive it back, then dodged away and put a parked car between us. After a minute I moved on, but as soon as I broke cover the dog renewed its assault. I'd had enough, and I charged the little bastard, growling myself. That did the trick, and my foe scampered up onto a lawn and cowered there. Feeling manly, I fixed it with a baleful look and then went on my way. I tell you, if I'm ever bitten, I'm coming back with my car, and either running down the little bastard or beating it to death with the Club. I kid alot on this blog, but I am dead serious. The dog that bites me has bitten its last. Believe it.

Another long-awaited post

I'm turning over a new leaf and blogging again. Then I'll most likely turn it back over and disappear for two weeks.

North Carolina was fun. Beautiful area (Raleigh-Durham), but I think I'd commit suicide if I had to live there. There's just not much going on, or at least much in which I am interested. Craig and Shawn live in a rather conservative area, just one mile from this Baptist seminary, and there's no way I'm up for that. They're more willing than I to be open about being gay with people who aren't necessarily the most accepting about it. I guess that's another way homosexuality gains mainstream acceptance, but I'd rather gravitate towards people who are already inclined to be open-minded about it.

Southern food is, uh, interesting. Everything is breaded and fried, which is kind of fun as a novelty but gets old fast. Corn fritters are tasty, and cheese grits were good, but to have that stuff every day? No thank you...I like my 32-inch waist. Nobody, but nobody makes biscuits like southerners, though, so it seems that fighting the Civil War to keep them part of the union was worth it. Oh, and eliminating slavery was good too. :-)

A long-awaited post

I don't actually know if anyone was waiting for this post, but it seemed to make a good heading. So there!

Star and Dan commanded me to blog a remark I made the other night. We were talking about gay guys and therapy, between which I maintained (and still do) that there is a significant link, and I said, "We put the 'men' in 'mental health.'" I have now discharged my duty.

I'm off to North Carolina this weekend to visit some friends, and I view food prospects of this trip some trepidation. (Hey, is that tripidation?) Some of southern cuisine is tasty, but all of it is rather fatty, heavy, and salty. I had a ham biscuit for breakfast, and it took two glasses of water just to restore the fluids soaked up by the salt in the country ham. Corn fritters were admittedly tasty, but possessed of more grease than I like to think about, and I won't even mention barbeque. Ugh.

Stupid People, Revisited

As I've said in other posts, I very rarely call people stupid, because I think very few truly are. Foolish, yes, but stupid? No. However, because of my employer's new office design, we're all on top of each other, so I get a first-hand view of the intellectual capabilities of my colleagues in Finance.

I realize that numbers people are not creative, but rely on accuracy, procedure, and good organizational skills, and that doesn't make them dumb. The numbers people in my office are just dumb. A few examples:

- Maureen was complaining to one of the techie guys about the malfunctioning voicemail indicators on her phone. He explained that the problem was company-wide, and that the server was hung up but would be reset that night. She said, "What?" Like me, he assumed she just hadn't heard him, so he repeated what he'd said. She replied cleverly, "What?" Finally, he realized she wasn't getting the "server hung up" part, so he reverted to child-speak and said, "Maureen, the server is broken. It's broken." Context, Maureen? Huh?

- The subject of this one is Taryn, and let me state that she got off on the wrong foot with me just because of her name. I hate names that are really just other names with the first initials changed, such as Tevin. (I know some of you have friends and family with those kinds of names, but my blog, my rules.) Also, I hate when basically common names are spelled in a quirky manner, like Marriya (Maria) or Jacqui (Jackie). So you can see how "Taryn", which is really a distortion of "Karen", really ticks me off. Anyway, we had a fire drill last week, and Taryn (grrr) and I were the last ones out the door. I headed for the stairs, but this zero starts pressing the elevator button. Hasn't she ever experienced a fire drill before? You don't put yourself in a small, metal, windowless box when there is fire a-coming. The guy running the fire drill had to direct her to the stairs, and I'm surprised he didn't have to instruct her on how to use them.

- Taryn and Maureen are chatters, and their conversations have an inanity level just short of what would provoke the average person to a letter-opener bloodbath. They're both as thin as sticks, naturally, and they go on and on about how terrible they are with food and they eat too much, their faces are too fat, blah blah. There are women in this company who could eat both of them before breakfast and still have room for a bagel, and they're complaining about that two-sixteenths of blueberry muffin they had that morning? Margaret Cho said the first thing you lose on a diet is brain matter, and these two had very little to begin with. Either that, or they once weighed a million pounds each, all brain.

Writing this post has made me feel strangely liberated. And hungry for blueberry muffins.

A Very "Ist" Post

If you're overly sensitive about "isms", skip this post now instead of writing me angry emails later.

There's a guy who works in my office who is a tremendous lech. The problem is that he's also tremendously unattractive, yet completely unaware of that fact...a deadly combination. I've seen this before with straight guys, and it never fails to amaze me. Why on earth do they think women will rush into their arms if those arms are really really unattractive?

I'm not proposing that all straight guys become gymbots; hell, there are lots of men who are perfectly attractive and who don't have 30-inch waists or visible abdominal muscles. However, there is just no excuse for untrimmed nose hair, stubble, and visible carpenter's crack. Straight guys, I know you don't like to tuck in your shirts, but for crying out loud, at least buy shirts that fit! Here's a tip: If the juncture of sleeve and torso hangs three inches below your armpit, the shirt is too big. Also, stop it with the pants that hang around your hips with the crotch somewhere between your knees. I know you think we gay men won't look at your asses if you wear almighty big pants, but guess what? We look anyway.

Thankfully, the straight guys who come to Movie Night wear clothes in their size, else I might have to start naming names. BTW, I wouldn't have sex with the office lech unless that sex involved me beating him senseless with a dead monkey. A ripe one.

Tales from the Restroom

I work in a dreadful office complex in Bala Cynwyd, and to escape my increasingly dreadful job I walk 3-4 miles every day at lunch. On the way back, I sometimes stop in the 1st-floor restroom on the way back to my desk. It's always an adventure. One time I was treated to the unmistakable sound of someone in one of the stalls, uh, entertaining himself. Yes. Last week I was in there and the guy two sinks down starts splashing water into his face with cupped hands, making all these snorting and snuffling sounds. I thought he was trying to drown himself until I realized he was blowing his nose in the sink. I thought, "Dude...I'm right here!", but he kept right on, oblivious.

Sometimes, I have learned, it's better to hold it until the 4th floor.

Oh frabjous day!

For the first time in a long, long while, I had a marvelous day at work yesterday. (Today ain't too bad, neither.) Why, you ask? Because my VP, the cute but useless exec who has completely blown off my very valid concerns, and whose wife makes lousy cookies, has been demoted. Tee-hee! They even kicked him out of his corner office. When I heard this I literally spun my chair around and said, "Whee!" I don't recall that German word for taking pleasure in the discomfiture of others, but whatever it is, I'm feeling it. It's not pleasure; it's a nearly orgasmic joy. In honor of the occasion, I went home and ordered a pepperoni pizza, which I shared with Sean whilst watching Babylon 5.

BTW, Sean is getting into B5, which thrills me since I can now discuss it with him as well. Yay!

The Coat of Doom!

My lovely, expensive new waistcoat has arrived, in all its glory. For those of you out of the loop, this bad boy is a gold brocade be-buttoned waistcoat with velvet trim at the cuffs and collar, and it's sweet. I was nervous about ordering it online (International Male sizes are, uh, interesting), but it fits pretty well. I'd prefer if it were a bit looser around the chest, but since the shoulders and sleeves fit so well I don't dare move up to a medium. Now I just need a formal event to which to wear the thing.

(Yes, I did use the word "be-buttoned", which means festooned with buttons. I am an editor; I get to make up words. Live with it!)

Dan, Star and I played Dan's new card game last night, and had a good time. I nearly would have won if it weren't for those meddling geeks! We even came up with a new name that I'll not reveal here until Dan gives me the nod. Check out his Peccable Productions for news.

The stage is set...

...and John Kerry stands at its center. I despise the fact that I feel obliged to vote for him, just to get that dreadful George Bush out of office. The Democrats and Republicans have constructed a system in which a vote for a third-party candidate - any third-party candidate - is a vote for the major-party candidate who winds up winning. Therefore, Americans wind up voting not their hopes, but their fears. As a voter who plans to support Kerry, I am not above this. If we had instant run-off elections, we could vote our hopes and not our fears.

That being said, I urge anyone reading this blog who feels, as I do, that George Bush has done our country a great deal of damage, to get out and vote for John Kerry. I won't hold it against anyone who decides for vote Green or Nader or Libertarian (I like voting Green myself), but I feel strongly that this is not the election to stand on principle. If we can shoot that Texas cowboy out of the saddle we'll have done the country more long-term good than we will by voting independent. The Democrats certainly aren't the heroes of the story, but there's no way John Kerry can be worse than His Fraudulency. No way in hell.

Humble Pie Post

I've been rather self-complimentary in previous posts, so to balance the scale I thought I'd spend some time discussing one of my faults. Most people aren't aware of this, but when provoked I have a very nasty temper. It takes quite a bit to provoke me to that extent, but when it happens, it ain't pretty. In that state I'm worse than stubborn; I'm defiant. I will not only stand my ground; I will defend it tooth and nail against anyone who looks at it cross-eyed. That temper sometimes provokes me to say more than I should, or press harder than is wise.

To my credit, I submit that I rarely get that worked up over anything. I'm generally pretty laid-back in terms of my responses, which may explain why I overreact when someone f*cks with me.

Good or bad?

This is the post in which I rate things as good or bad. Don't look for consistency here.

Spiders...Bad!
Oreos
If Double-Stuf...Good!
If Single-Stuf...Bad!
Circus Peanuts...Bad!
Purple clothing...Good!
Sand in shoes...Bad!
Green Party...Good!
Slavery...Bad!
Harriet Tubman shaped by slavery...Good!
SUV's...Bad!

The Disgruntlement Code

One of my fellow employees, who is nearly as disgruntled as I, suggested that celebrities could be used to measure just how disgruntled one is on a given day, as opposed to colors to indicate the level of terror alert. I instantly gelled to the idea, and thus I have created...

The Celebrity Disgruntlement Code
Level 1: Justin Timberlake
This person plays at disgruntlement to seem cool, but is in reality pretty satisfied. A Timberlake-alert applies to those who just like the idea of being disgruntled.

Level 2: Meryl Streep
This person will sound off occasionally, but is generally willing to put up with the way things are. A Streep-alert is often called when an employee is being a bit childish because of bad hair or because his favorite character was voted off the island last night.

Level 3: Susan Sarandon
This person is generally cantankerous, but isn't often heard from except perhaps on specific issues. A Sarandon-alert indicates an employee more annoying than truly disgruntled.

Level 4: Johnny Depp
This person makes trouble on a variety of issues, but is quick to slink away or backpedal if confronted. A Depp-alert indicates an employee who is angry but is not yet hardened by true bitterness.

Level 5: Mickey Rourke
This person is angry, bitter, and completely disillusioned, makes trouble, and doesn't care who knows it. A Rourke-alert indicates an employee who prints resumes on company printers, surfs Monster.com openly and spends company functions commiserating with others of his level. He not only faces confrontations but relishes them, and will admit or even trumpet his disgruntlement to any and all.

This was more fun than it should have been.

Authority and my thoughts

First, I published a letter to the editor in the Philadelphia Inquirer today that has generated a good deal of feedback, both positive and negative. The positive: "Right on!" The negative: "Stupid!" You can link to the Inquirer thusly.

I've been thinking alot about authority, because several people have told me lately that I handle it well. At risk of sounding immodest I agree, and I'll share an experience that helped shape my views of the responsible use of authority. Some years back I was working at a law office, and in my duties I interacted with one of the senior partners named (for purposes of this blog) Mike. Mike was in charge of the lawyers in his field of specialization, and once, while sitting in his office, I got to hear him take a phone call from one of his subordinates. This guy was carping and complaining and being really quite insolent, and I remember thinking, "My gosh! This guy's talking to his boss this way? If I were Mike, I'd give him quite the smackdown." Mike, however, just nodded and smiled, and smoothly put the guy off, all the while remaining calm and composed. It was then I realized that composure and non-assuming attitude was the secret of Mike's success as a team leader. He didn't need to assert his authority; he never felt it was threatened. (BTW, Mike was a great guy with whom I feel lucky to have worked.)

A good leader wears his authority not like a crown, but like his ordinary clothing. Think about it: How often are you aware of that very fact that you're wearing clothing? How often are others? Answer: Very rarely, since you almost always wear clothes. Authority should be the clothes you put on in the morning and then don't consider much during the day. Only those who can't handle their authority feel the need to assert it frequently, or to wield it heavy-handedly. That's the difference between a petty tyrant who demands obedience, and a true leader who commands respect.

A Mighty Post!

I have some delightful news to share, in case you haven't already heard: Dan and I are back together. Yes, I know you don't know why we didn't do this before, or why we ever broke up, blah blah. All I can say is that sometimes you meet the right person at the wrong time, and sometimes the right time comes around when the right person is still there. So it has proven with us.

You may now begin the "I told you so" dance.

A filler post

I don't have much to say, but I thought I'd better post something here, if only to avoid a blog-slacker rep. I had the worst Sunday night imaginable, one that made me look forward to coming to work Tuesday. If you've been reading about my disgruntlement, then you get the idea how bad Sunday night was. I've had a non-stop headache since then, and if I take any more Motrin or Alleve I'm like to die.

Reread my last post about the election. By tomorrow I hope to post more optimistically.

Benedict Tracker

I was reading the other day about the presidential primary of the Green Party, and I felt this pang of guilt and anger. Why? Because I can't vote Green in the presidential election this year, and it pisses me off. I agree with nearly all the tenets of the Green Party, but I must do everything I can to get His Fraudulency George Bush II out of office. I strongly believe that man is a menace to this nation, and that he's sown seeds that will yield a bitter harvest for years to come. Therefore, I intend to vote for whatever Democrat emerges from the primary, as many times as I can. And that makes me a traitor to the Greens. All I can do is make a big Green donation this year, grit my teeth, and vote Democrat. Ugh.

One of the worst things about our two-party, winner-take-all system is the way it forces us to vote our fears, not our hopes. It divides our country, devalues our votes, and reduces our national dialogue to this vs. that. It's not in the Constitution (despite what many would have you believe), it's not the best system of government, and it sucks.

My dreams are fun!

Last night, anyway. I dreamt I was a telekinetic on the run from the government, who runs internment camps for psychics ala Bablylon 5's PsiCorps. Anyway, someone let me hide out in her attic, which proved to be enormous and many-layered, and I spent most of the dream skulking about it, eluding the agents who were searching the house. I went out on the roof and levitated myself over the side of the house, out of sight from anyone following me. The agents went away emptyhanded, but it was only then that I noticed that there was a nunnery across the way, and that all the nuns were crowded at the windows, watching the floating guy. They started yelling that I was a demon, which was fun. Then a priest came along and exhorted them to throw stuff at me, which was less fun.

You're probably wondering, "Why didn't you use your telekinetic powers to thwart the government agents?" I can think of several answers. Maybe my powers were not equal to the task, or I was afraid to alert the government to my presence in the house, fearing it would send even more agents. Seanbaby offers a good answer; like the Justice League of America, I may simply have forgotten I had powers.

It's good to be king

Emmett and I talked last night about being king, and my opinion was (and still is) that it would pretty well suck. Evil villains always want to rule the world, but IMO that's further sign of the insanity that will someday prove their undoing. Bill Clinton aged about twenty years after two terms in the White House, and he just had to govern (along with Congress) one nation. Can you imagine what he would have looked like after eight years as the absolute ruler of the entire world? I'm aging quickly enough, thanks.

Emmett (very kindly) remarked that he thought I'd be a good king, because I didn't want the job, and at the risk of sounding arrogant I'm going to agree. In any group I tend to step up to the plate in terms of taking charge of organizing whatever it is we're doing, and I rather enjoy it. It got me thinking about just what makes a good leader. I've boiled it down to three basic traits, which I present for your edification:

Humility: A good leader has to understand that a) he's not fundamentally better than anyone else; and b) that he doesn't know everything about everything. A humble leader doesn't put his own petty desires before the common good, nor does he dismiss a good idea simply because he didn't think of it first. He accepts that he can be wrong, and views mistakes as opportunities, not humiliations.

Decisiveness: Nothing destroys your followers' confidence faster than the appearance of weakness. A good leader has to know when to cajole and seek consensus, it's true, but he also has to know when to draw the line and stand alone. With leaders as with immortals, there can be only one, and he/she has to be willing to make the tough calls and then stick with 'em.

Vision: If humility is the road and decisiveness the car, vision is the map that tells you where you need to drive. Without vision, a leader is more a manager, which is useful but not the person you want in the big chair.

Of course, there are a multitude of other desirable qualities: honesty, intelligence, fairness, and a host of others. However, I think that the three I have named are absolutely indispensible.

Telepathy? No!

I was watching some Babylon 5 last night, and it occurred to me that being a telepath would suck. Yeah, yeah, I know telepathy gives you an advantage, but the things people do are pretty darn annoying without knowing the motivations behind them. You might be thinking, "Well, you could simply choose not to read minds except in special circumstances." Could you really? Given the power to know what people are thinking about you or anyone else, can you honestly say you wouldn't use it more often than you think? I sure can't. The temptation would just be too great to ignore.

Now, if we're talking about superpowers, here are a few I'd choose over telepathy.

Hair command. Think about it: Your hair does whatever you want. It can be long one day and short the next, red on alternate Wednesdays, and completely immune to the deleterious effects of wind, rain, and hats. You could also make it move around on its own ala Medusa, except without the snakey goodness.

Traffic light power. You could make every traffic light in your path turn green, thus expediting your journeys. Of course, you'd have to remember to make them red for the cross-traffic, or else you'd be the shortest-lived superhero ever.

X-ray vision. You're thinking, "Wow! You could learn government secrets and help the police find lost children!" Screw that. I'd just hang out at Penn near the athletic fields when the men's soccer team comes out to practice. Oh yeah.

Inaudibility: No, this isn't making yourself un-hearable so you can become a master cat-burglar. This is making other people completely silent, forever ending your worries about small children at restaurants and cell-phone boobs in movie theatres.

Telebrowsing: With this modem of the mind, you could Google your heart out all without lifting a finger or touching a keyboard, or alerting your boss that you're wasting time blogging when you should be working. (Ahem) You could even give yourself a neat name like Modemo.

Telepathy? Bah! And I don't even want to know what you think about that.

Happy Things I Think About

I think about these things alot more now that my job is going south fast. Here they are:

Getting my orange belt: I earned this when I was fourteen, skinny, with little self-esteem and even less confidence. At the test, I defeated my sparring partner easily, which was my first real taste of accomplishment. By the way, the martial arts form was Tang Soo Do.

Winning the Spirit Award: Back in 1998, the gay and lesbian Ultimate group I was with participated in a charity tournament one fine autumn day, and we bombed. We knew nothing, nothing, about the game, and I think we scored two points in three games. (That's a total.) Still, we had a fabulous time, and the other teams in the division voted us the Spirit Winners. Maybe they felt sorry for us, but I like to think it was because, despite our obvious ineptitude and crushing defeat, we never stopped smiling.

My Lambda nomination: Every year, the Philadelphia Gay News runs the Lambda Awards, to recognize outstanding service in the LGBT community, and in 2000 I was nominated for Outstanding Sportsman. I will never forget my surprise and delight when I received that phone call. There was an awards ceremony and everything, at which I lost by a landslide, but I discovered that what they say at the Oscars is true: The honor really is in the nomination.

New York on my birthday: Some years ago, my friend Jack and I went to New York City on my birthday, and we had a blast. It was one of those crisp, clear, warm autumn days you remember forever, and my memories of the trip are just as vivid. We hung out at Washington Square Park with the NYU students and the druggies, took the ferry around the harbor, and even went to the top of the World Trade Center. I will never forget the absolute stillness, and the way the city spread out around us. When I heard about the terrorist attack in September 2001, my mind leapt first to that visit, and Jack said his did, too. New York isn't the same without the WTC.

Writing this down has made me feel alot better, but I'll cut it off here. I should save some of these memories for tomorrow.

The Night of One Thousand Dreams

I had one of those nights when you wake up a billion times for about two minutes each, and every time I fell asleep I had another dream. I don't remember most of them, but two stick out in my mind. One was about these giant, carnivorous plants that would eat people, but could also be eaten by people, and that pretty much summed up their conflict. The second was even more bizarre. I was at a company meeting, which makes the dream bad, but at the meeting I saw Judson Earney Scott which makes the dream weird. Things got even weirder when I approached Judson Earney Scott and found it was not Judson Earney Scott, but a woman who looked alot like him. Then I woke up.

For those of you who don't know him, Judson Earney Scott played an uncredited role in "Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan", as Joachim Singh. He's also one of only 32 actors to appear in both a Star Trek movie and in a spin-off. There are a few actors, however, who were in the original series, a movie, and a spin-off: Majel Barrett, John Colicos (of "Battlestar Galactica" fame) and, of course, Mark Lenard. Mark Lenard was also in "Planet of the Apes", which normally would make him even cooler except it was the TV series and not the movie. Blech.

My Least Favorite People!

Following the previous post, here's a list of people I hate. I don't love to hate them; I just hate them.

Ann Coulter: She is a maniac. I have read her book "Slander" and can say this with some authority. She's not just your run-of-the-mill conservative with whom I disagree. She is a nasty, intellectually dishonest ideologue with views so incredibly partisan it's hard to believe she's sane. She lies about her age, too, which makes her pathetic as well as cuckoo.

Kevin Costner: This man is a Hollywood sweetheart who has ruined more movies than any cell-phone-yaking yoyo could ever dream. He's not a terrible actor, but he's cast with people who are, and looks all the more terrible in contrast. America, wake up! He's as bland as rice cakes with oxygen sauce.

John O'Connor: He's the archbishop of New York, and yet he still finds time to fulfill his duties as Bigot-in-Chief. He hates gays. He hates abortion. He hates women who have abortions. Of course, he would say he doesn't hate anything, but it's clear he holds these things in utter contempt. He once threatened to excommunicate American Catholics who are pro-choice. That's building bridges the Catholic way!

George W. Bush: The first Resident of the United States, His Fraudulency has made an art form out of short-sighted jingoism. Placed in office by a sympathetic Supreme Court, GWB is living proof that anyone with prestigious name, alot of money, and a modicum of cunning can aspire to be president. A Democrat with a similar history of alcoholism and poor college performance would have been savaged by the same conservatives who applaud GWB, but let's not focus on his sordid past. Bush squandered the goodwill lavished on America after the destruction of the World Trade Center just as he squandered the surplus he inherited from the Clinton administration. He used the fear of terrorism to lead the American people to believe that Saddam had something to do with that act of terrorism, all the while maintaining a plausible deniability in case things in Iraq went bad. When the United Nations showed a distressing reluctance to buy into the story, he said we didn't need them and attacked without even having the courage to ask Congress for a declaration of war. When the invasion was over, he went back to the same UN he'd swept aside and asked them to share the responsibility for rebuilding while leaving the US with all of the authority. On the domestic setting, he preaches that all people are God's children while pushing for an amendment that would enshrine anti-gay bigotry into the guiding document of our country. He spouts off about fiscal good sense while spending the nation into the biggest deficit ever. He mouths support for the separation of church and state while he does everything he can to undermine it. The damage this man has done to the United States is amazing in its scope, and will haunt us long after His Fraudulency has retired and had a library named after him.

I think my #4 choice equals two or three, so it's probably best to end this topic.

My Favorite People!

I have many posts about my favorite things, so I thought it was time for one devoted to the famous people I love. Here goes.

George Carlin: Funny, crotchety, and decidedly un-conservative, I could listen to this man all day. And I have.

Jane Wiedlin: This former Go-Go has dropped somewhat in my estimation, but remains in my Top Ten. (In the "Diary" section of her Web site she ranted at a fan who was being admittedly rude in the comments he posted. His abrasiveness didn't justify hers.) I like her voice, which I realize isn't for everyone, and I find her songs catchy and fun. And she was a Go-Go.

Margaret Cho: This woman should be president someday, and I'd vote for her as many times as I could get away with. Not only is she funny, but she has something to say about bigotry and the beauty-obsessed culture in which we live.

Rev. Barry Lynn: You probably have not heard of Lynn, but he heads Americans United for the Separation of Church & State, of which I am literally a card-carrying member. What I admire most about him is that he himself is a member of the clergy, and yet he's as dedicated as Neil the Atheist to keeping religion out of politics.

Harriet Tubman: Harriet is probably my #1 American of all time. She eschewed that "work within the system" stuff to defy a law that was just evil. There are times to take years to change a law, and there are times when you must simply break it, and Harriet unabashedly broke it. She served the Union army in the Civil War as a scout, a position in which she had command over men, which was unheard of at the time. The shameful way she was treated by her own government after the war is a look at America's worst, but her life and accomplishments are shining examples of America's best.

Random Thoughts

This entry will have little cohesiveness. Deal with it.

- It just occurred to me that the Vorlons on B5 think of themselves and act as gods, which they most certainly are not. Arrogant poopyheads!

- I'm thinking of getting certified as a technical writer, but I don't know much about it. Am looking into it.

- Winter bites.

- I had chicken last night, stir-fried with garlic, ground thyme, sage, and broccoli, served over rice. Yum!

- Doesn't it annoy you when People capitalize Words for No apparent Reason?

- Amy is in Paris right now, where it is no doubt warmer and more wonderful. Curses!

- I have a friend who lives in England, in a place called Surrey. I passed a sign announcing it on the motorway.

I used to think I was a good swimmer...

...until today. I went to the 12th Street Gym with Dan this morning, and we used the pool. Dan did 70 laps (yes, that's seven-oh). He is a fantastic swimmer, and he didn't even collapse when he got out of the water. He rinsed off, got dressed, and we left, just like that. I did 3.5 laps, then got tired and used my hand as a makeshift shark fin whilst humming the "Jaws" music. It's just something I have to do when I am in water.

Given that today is MLK Day, I wanted to bring up something. I've heard on several occasions the following remark, or something like it.

"All the black people take off on Martin Luther King's birthday, but are they really out at memorials and marches, or just sleeping late?"

To those who feel this way, I say this: Do you spend Memorial Day remembering the sacrifices of those who died during military service, or are you on your way to the beach? Uh-huh...I thought so. MLK Day is a holiday just like any other. Some people do special stuff to honor it, and some don't, and none of it makes anyone better or worse than anyone else.

Babylon, the review

I finished Season Four, and I have a few things to say. Naturally.

Damn those Vorlons! I knew they were not to be trusted, and they proved me right in spades.

Goodbye, Mr. Morden. He was such sweet, sexy evil, although he was asking for the ole' head-on-a-pike treatment. It was good that Vir got to wave at him, though.

Garabaldi should die. Yeah, I know the telepaths used him, but it strikes me that his will was not totally subverted. I certainly wouldn't trust him anymore.

The new president sucks. She treated Sheridan like some misbehaving rowdy, when she should not have dared raise her voice to him. He stopped the Shadows, scared off the Vorlon, and saved Earth from an evil dictator.That puts him in the "Deserves Gratitude" column in my book.

Lannier is the most unlucky Minbari in the universe. The woman he loves wants a guy who came back from the dead. How can he top that? Of course, Sheridan will be dead in twenty years, so if Lannier wants to wait a few decades, he might have a chance.

Babylon Satisfied

Ah...my DVD's arrived yesterday, and I am content, having watched 12 episodes. I'll say no more about it until I have finished the entire season. Then I shall gab mightily.

Babylon Denied!

Argh! Nobody, but nobody, had Babylon 5, except for Amazon. I'm wary of Amazon, but I gave in and placed an order for overnight delivery. We'll see if it arrives.

While I'm on the topic of things that annoy me, the building in which my doctor (who rocks) is located has a ground floor and a first floor. People, people...since the ground floor is the first floor one sees, most folk think of the ground floor as the first floor. The first day of January is January 1. The first house on the 1400 block of a street is 1401. Why, then, is the first floor of that building the ground floor?!?

This leads to a larger topic. People expect certain things to work certain ways, which is what we call an intuitive approach. When you receive an application, where on the page do you first look? Top left corner, naturally, because we in America write left to right, top to bottom. If you design a form in which applicants must begin in the bottom right, then proceed to the top right, and then to the center, you have designed a form that is counterintuitive. Say that with me class: counterintuitive. That's why the famed butterfly ballot was so bad; sure, it contained directions, but it worked contrary to all expectation. I design forms for a living, and that was a bad design that any normal person would immediately recognize. That's why government worker Theresa LaPore thought it was just fine.

Galactica II...this time it's prettier

I watched part II of the new Battlestar Galactica last night at Ed's, and will now provide my review.

The reimagined version spent much more time on the destruction of the colonies than the original, and I thought that was appropriate. These people have been in a single stroke deprived of most of their friends and family, and even their entire culture. Their existence has forever changed, and the level of social trauma would be incredible. The original glossed this over, but the remake did not. Also, the addition of faster-than-light craft helped make the logistics work better; there's no way the colonial fleet is escaping anyone by traveling at sub-light speeds. Hell, it would take weeks just to get out of our solar system at the speed of light, much less at sub-light speeds. Finally, the characters are much less black and white than their 70's counterparts, which makes them far more believable.

There are some problems, however. The quest for Earth was thrown in hastily at the end, as a ruse by Adama to give the survivors some (false) hope, which sort of vacates the driving purpose of the show, IMO. Speaking of Adama, Edward James Olmos just didn't fill the admittedly big shoes of Lorne Greene. Greene's Adama was a statesman, a scholar, and a man of wisdom; Olmos' Adama seemed merely a hard-bitten warrior. Also, there were too many pretty people on this show. Sure, the original had some cuties (Richard Hatch, Dirk Benedict, Anne Lockhart), but the new one has these Melrose-place types who just don't seem the kind to join the military. Boomer may not have been pretty, but he was easier to take than all these thin-nosed, sculpted-cheekbone people on the new version.

All in all, I enjoyed the new version for what it was, but I doubt it can supplant the original. The original remains unsupplantable.

B-B-Babylon 5!!!

Yes, you heard right. Season 4 is released tomorrow, and I'm even now warming up my credit card. (I'm not sure exactly why a credit card has to be warm as it also works when it's cold, but my blog, my rules.) I've also taken Thursday and Friday off from work with renegade 2003 vacation time, so I am ready to geek out. Don't even bother checking this blog or telephoning me, because I will be incommunicado.

Questions to which I seek answers are:

1) How did Sheridan survive his plunge into the abyss?
2) Did Mr. Morden survive the blast at Z'hadum?
3) What happened to Garabaldi?

That second question is the most important, particularly because I don't want any harm to come to that pretty face of his, at least until someone puts his head on a pike for being evil! Also, I'm not too sure about the Vorlon and their intentions. They certainly seem somewhat more benevolent than the Shadows, but then again pretty much anybody is more benevolent than the Shadows. They're awfully manipulative, and they dispense assistance at their own discretion, not as it's needed. In a time of crisis you use what you're given, true, but if I were Sheridan and company, I'd be wary of the Vorlon.

Begging for Jurassic Park

Whilst listening to NPR today (that's National Public Radio for the Brits among you), I heard of a biotech company that has genetically enhanced zebra fish so they'll glow in the dark. Yes, Americans now need fish that glow in the dark. Pardon me for being the Voice of Skepticism, but what happens when these fish get into the general fish population and start breeding? You know they will; people who get tired of pet fish often flush them down toilets or toss them into lakes or ponds. Do we know what their offspring will be like? What happens if someone eats one? Of course we can't answer any of these questions, yet some company eager to profit from the American passion for useless bullshit is charging ahead nonetheless.

I'm not opposed in theory to messing with genes, particularly if we can head off in fetuses some pretty nasty diseases or deformities. However, I'm troubled at the notion of fiddling with DNA just so we can have more attractive pets. Genetic power is pretty awesome, if you think about it, and such power should not be wielded lightly. The results could be pretty gruesome.

Rude Candy Update!

I have eaten the Yorkie, and can report that I do not feel any more manly than I did before. However, I think that perhaps a better subject is required. Yorkies may not work on queerboys.

Rude Candy

One of my coworkers gave me a chocolate bar she picked up on her recent trip to Ireland. It's called "Yorkie", and the tag-line is "It's Not for Girls!" The "o" in the name even has the stick-image of a woman in the red circle with the line through it. How politically incorrect! That kind of thing would never fly here, that's for sure. Fun!

I just had a meeting with our HR rep about transferring within my company or to another branch of the parent company. She asked me why I wanted to do so, and I decided to tell her. She was very diplomatic, of course, yet she managed all the same to communicate her own unease with our current commandant's rule. She related that he had once said to her, "When you're put in charge of this company, you can run it your way." That's what you say when you've been asked a question to which you have no good answer, and it tells you all you need to know about the prez of this company. He's basically said, "My way or the highway", so I choose the highway.

Save me from the suburbs!

I haven't blogged in ages, as this weekend I was busier than a one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest. Here goes.

I was at my sister's for Xmas, which meant venturing into the dreaded suburbs. I probably come off as a metropolitan snob, but I have very good reasons my disdain. They are:

1) Suburban development overstrains local roads, requiring more state money for highway expansion. Like the movie says, "If you build it, they will come" and so it has proven with roadwork. Widen a highway today and in five years it will once again be over-capacity.

2) Suburbs ruin the cities by encouraging white flight. The white folks leave, taking their tax dollars with them and shrinking the tax base. The cities respond by raising taxes on those who remain, further encouraging departure, while suburban municipalities lure city businesses with low-tax office parks.

3) Suburbs increase auto dependency. The 'burbs are built for people with cars; hell, some of their streets don't even have sidewalks. That increases fuel consumption and air pollution, makes auto accidents more likely, and denies to an already dangerously sedentary society an opportunity for exercise.

On top of all these reasons, there's something else that has always nagged at me. One of the primary reasons people give for moving to the 'burbs is safety, yet once they relocate, nothing changes. They still lock their doors at night, drive their children everywhere because they think walking around is unsafe, and they still buy and keep guns. I don't know if these people are statistically safer, but they sure don't act as if they are safer.

A not so very special blog...

This is a less sharey blog than the one I posted a few days ago. I'm not very sharey, and I still have an emotional skidmark from the last post. But here goes.

I feel pretty good today, a feeling that started last night as I talk a long, late-night walk. This year hasn't been the best for me. You see, problems normally require action, and I am all about action. Present me with a difficulty and I can overcome it. (Hear the "Laverne & Shirley" theme music?) However, 2003 was about uncertainty, which I don't handle so well, probably because I am not quick to make life decisions. Once I make a decision I stick to it come hell or high water, but it's getting there that takes me awhile. I'm arriving (I think) at some clarity, and I feel enormously better because of it.

"Come hell or high water"...isn't that a funny saying? I mean, first you have hell, a place of fire and pain and suffering and doom, where your hopes mean nothing and despair and misery reign. Then you have high water, which...ruins your carpets and makes you file a claim under your homeowner's insurance. Somehow the two just don't seem to go together. "Hell and velour sweatsuits"...now that's scary.

A Disgruntled Observation

I'm pretty disgruntled with my employer, and have been for about a year. I'm not going into the why and when (I get angry just thinking about it), but suffice to say that the company has dealt me several direct face-slaps, all the while telling me how valued I am, how good with the clients, blah blah. Anyway, the whole thing got me thinking about corporate America in general. Is it really any more efficient than the public sector?

Sure, it's easier to fire a private employee, but what does that matter when you're replacing him with an even bigger dunderhead? By keeping Dunderhead #1, you're at least getting consistency, if not quality. Don't think it happens? The new prez of my company goes on and on about a worker (who will be known here as Annoying) who's really a better talker than she is a doer. "Annoying is such a great worker...she'll go far in this company." That's a direct quote. Fact is, she's knows nothing, but she can talk a great game. And she's pretty, which I am sure accounts for much of that acclaim. Annoying isn't alone, either; this company is rife with people who do great B.S. but know little and do less.

I've held seven jobs since high school, six of them in the private sector, and in most of 'em I was surrounded by people who definitely did NOT put government workers to shame. This is the breakdown I see:

30% - Waste of oxygen, good only for keeping chairs warm, but obviously so.
30% - Average worker, basically earns keep.
10% - Also a waste of oxygen, yet presents the appearance of productivity and talent. The most pernicious of the breed.
20% - Motivated and fairly talented, definitely worth keeping around.
10% - Bright and gifted, assets to organization.

It sounds cynical to say that only 60% of the workers in an average company are at least fair, but IMO it's the truth. Why not get rid of the other 40%? Because many of those are in management positions, and they don't eat their own. In fact, those in Group #3 tend to rise to management, which shows you just how pernicious they are. It's one thing to be a fool; quite another to be a fool in charge.

I once heard someone say on a posting board that someone who can succeed at business has the requisite skills to hold public office. Judging from the "successful" people with whom I've worked, I'd say they're barely qualified to hold a spoon.

More Things I Like

Quaker Corn Bran: The best cereal ever, and it's not even sugar-coated. Picture Captain Crunch but puffier, hollow, and made of corn. And tasty. Unfortunately I can rarely find it at stores, and I'm seriously considering attempting to buy directly from the manufacturer.

The Green Party: These folks stand for all the right things, and I support them strongly. I suggest you do the same.

Meatball sandwiches: I use turkey for my meatballs, but once they've stewed in the marinara it makes no difference. Put 'em on a roll and slap some provolone cheese on there, and I'm a happy man.

Ebay: Even if you're not buying, you can make every browse to this auction a trip down Nostalgia Lane. There's neat stuff to buy, too.

Making January look good...

I hate Christmas.

The commercialism. I'm not a very acquisitive person, and in fact I've developed a dislike of the practice of buying stuff that one really doesn't need. This partly accounts for my contempt for SUV's, which are vehicles that are purchased simply as fashion statements, not to answer a need. Needless to say, I'm less than wild about a holiday that centers on buying things.

The overdose of religion. Everyone goes on about what Christmas is really all about, at they same time they jam stores and go into debt to fund it. They run to church, even if they rarely go any other time of year, and act all pious. They also bitch about how they can't put Nativity scenes in public places any more, as if Christians were somehow oppressed in that nation.

The "music." Christmas music is always bland, boring, and full of canned sentiment. The songs center on the same damn things: snow, holly, mistletoe, Santa, Jesus, and stuff that's merry. Inexplicably, everyone feels like the world needs one more cover of "I'll Be Home for Christmas", so they inflict their version upon a world that's really seen enough retreads of that piece of crap.

Christmas is the only time of year I actually look forward to January.

The Greatest Gift of All

No, it's not childbirth; that happens all the time to just about anyone. And it's not a realization of self-worth, either; that's the greatest love of all. One of the rarest qualities in the world is the ability to admit when you're wrong.

Think about it. How many people do you know who can actually admit when they've been wrong about...well, anything? Most people, when confronted with something they've done wrong, simply rearrange the facts of the situation to make wrong right. We all want to think we're the heroes of the story, and some people would rather reimagine reality than admit, even if only to themselves, that they've perhaps played the villain. I don't understand it and never have.

Part of the foundation of my atheism is my belief that my goof-ups really don't matter all that much in terms of the universe, and I like that. It takes the pressure off, and helps me keep my blunders in perspective. So what if I spoke harshly to someone the other day? The earth will still orbit the sun, water continues to flow downhill, and matter has maintained its basic integrity. That means I can apologize to that person without feeling that an apology will destroy my world. It's a good feeling.

Kill that driver!

I was reading Tuesday in the Philadelphia Inquirer about a woman in New Jersey who hit two boys in her car. She said she didn't see them because she was driving with ice on her windshield, but the kids were at a crosswalk and being tended by a crossing guard. Now, those of you who read my blog regularly know this gets my hair up right off just because the authority of a crossing guard was disregarded. The main question is this: How much ice was on that blasted windshield if this woman saw neither the crosswalk, the crossing guard, nor the boys? Hasn't she ever heard of using an ice scraper to clear off car windows before driving?

I'm a driver and I love my car, but I have zero sympathy for those who drive irresponsibly. I'm a Nazi on this issue, I admit it. I believe that if you're found driving drunk, you should lose your license forever. If you're found driving a car that's unsafe (for example, one whose windshield is covered with ice), you lose your license for a really long time. Driving is a privilege, not a right, and if you can't handle that privilege responsibly, you don't deserve to drive. Period.

(Wow...I feel positively conservative.)

Things I Never Again Want to See in Movies

In no particular order...

1) Courtroom scenes: Done to death.
2) Hostage situations: Done to undeath.
3) Explosions: Villains are only truly dead when something has exploded.
4) Car/Plane/Boat/Carriage/Spaceship chases: Chases in any other damned vehicle also count.

Funny thing is that some older movies did any or all of these, and well. "And Justice For All" did #1, "Dog Day Afternoon" did #2, and "Star Wars" does both 3 and 4, and yet they don't suck. Would that I could say the same of more modern flicks.

Pacino - Hot or Not?

I watched "Dog Day Afternoon" last night, and the aforementioned burning question presented itself. (The movie was pretty good, BTW.) I've seen Pacino in a variety of flicks, and I just can't decide if he was cute when he was younger. He definitely didn't have a good body, and he often appeared really haggard. However, sometimes you get a camera angle that shows those dark, intense eyes looking smokily out from a mop of untamed black hair...oh my goodness. Save me.

A shining planet known as Earth...

I went over Ed's last night to watch the new "Battlestar Galactica", and I was pleasantly surprised. The thing wasn't an award-winner, mind you, but I thought it worked pretty well as a reinvention. Perhaps my expectations were low because I'd heard such dreadful things, but I think there was some real quality.

Here's what I liked. First, the Cylon attack was much more plausible than in the original, which was pretty much, "The Cylons kicked our heads off." In the redux, the Cylons first infiltrated the defense network and set some cyber-traps that gave their attack fleet an enormous boost. Second, the characters were a bit more gray, as opposed to the original, in which good and evil were plain to see. For example, the new Baltar did not betray the colonies out of malice, but was manipulated into doing so. He was really just foolish and conceited, not eeeevil. He even shows a teensy bit of nobility towards the end of Part I, and that's a nice touch. He also looked great in a suit. :-)

Here's what I didn't like. The human-looking Cylons suck. The redesigned Galactica is too sleek, and resembles a child's toy. The old Galactica was much more how I thought an actual battlestar would appear: clunky and rather awkward-appearing. (Remember: In space you don't have to build ships that are aerodynamic, because there's no aero.) Also, I miss the male Boomer, who was cool, calm, and was the secret backbone of the fighter squad. Sure, Apollo and Starbuck got the spotlight, but they'd have been meat if Boomer hadn't been there to make sure things were squared away. Go Boomer!

All in all, I enjoyed the new Galactica for what it was. Hopefully Ed will make good on his promise to tape Part II, or else I will be sad.

(Not) Snowbound!

Thinking I'd be stuck inside all weekend, I rented a bunch of movies Friday, which I have not done in a while. Turns out I was not stuck inside all weekend, which is lucky for me because I was getting weird after just 24 hours in my house. Here's what I got:

Black River: A Dean Koontz story turned into a terrible movie, but I was in the mood for something cheap, and Jay Mohr, who stars, is tasty. Mucho tasty.
Girl Fight: This was a film I'd meant to see when it was at the Ritz, so I was glad to see it now. Not bad. I like the way a major source of conflict goes unresolved, which is much like real life.
Sleepy Hollow: This stars Johnny Depp, who is also tasty and such a bad boy in real life...if only I could tame him. Sigh. Anyway, this was a story that could have been more interesting had they chosen not to include a bunch of Hollywood action scenes, such as fighting on top of a stagecoach or leaping backwards into the saddle. I hate that crud.
Dog Day Afternoon: I actually haven't watched this one yet, but I thought I'd best mention it, since three movies really doesn't qualify as "a bunch."

BTW, I really was getting weird by Saturday evening. I'm pretty good at being by my onesome (that's what nearly three years of single life will do for you), but in this case I couldn't even get out for a good long walk, something I'm accustomed to doing every day. I get rammy when I don't get exercise, and shoveling snow is no substitute for a brisk, refreshing walk. Neither is a handful of Hershey's Nuggets crammed into my mouth whilst I play Warcraft II.

With the white comes my hate

You know what I hate more than snow? Discussion about snow. Everyone in work thinks he/she has the final word on how much will fall, if it will stick, how long it will last, what it will do to traffic, etc., and it pisses me off in a tremendous manner. Couple that with the rush to grocery stores for bread and milk and I'm cocking my rifle and climbing the steps to the bell tower.

Why on earth would a person living in the fifth-largest city in the United States, a first-world country, feel the need to stock up his larder for four inches of snow? Does anyone really think he/she will be cut off entirely from the world, with all phone service gone? Will anyone really starve to death a quarter mile from a Wawa? Do you know that people hoard the bottled water too? Folks, that white stuff that's falling from the sky is frozen water. It is! Therefore, in the unlikely event that the water lines break all over the Philadelphia metropolitan area, and all other sources of liquid refreshment are exhausted, you can simply put a pot under that falling white stuff, boil it, and then drink it. That should stave off dehydration long enough for someone to shovel a path through the four inches of snow so you can walk your fat ass to the grocery store and buy a Jolt or something.

Ugh. I've way abused the use of italics in this post, so it's time to make an end.

Curses!

Yesterday I encountered a dilemma the likes of which...well, I had never before encountered. I was at 12th & Walnut, and there I saw a Philadelphia Parking Authority (PPA) truck preparing to tow an illegally parked SUV. My natural loathing of the PPA instantly asserted itself, yet was rivaled by my equal contempt for SUV's. I didn't know what to feel. I hate the thought that the PPA was making more money, but at the same time I danced an internal jig of glee that some SUV owner was going to find himself sans vehicle, and thus temporarily unable to further degrade our environment and clog our streets with his behemoth, dangerous, conspicuously consumptive death machine. When I realized that the PPA was the cause of my glee, I was sent spinning through a hole in the fabric of time and space.

I've given it some thought, and I've decided that the enemy of my enemy is my friend, at least for now. By towing that SUV, the PPA is not only preventing for a day or two more damage and degradation, but is taking money from the owner to add to the city coffers, thus (indirectly) enriching me. Furthermore, as much as it galls me to admit it, the PPA does serve a useful purpose, at least in theory, by making sure that people don't hog parking spots all day. That SUV does nothing except suck up gasoline, make the highways less safe, and puff up the egos of those who drive them. Therefore, if the PPA wants to tow those suckers, I say, "Faster pussycat! Kill, kill!

Evolutionary Revolutionary

You know who rocks? Eugenie Scott.
I've heard her speak out against "intelligent design" (the new package in which creationism is delivered) and she is intelligent, cogent, well-spoken and one hundred percent correct.

I'm sorry...it's not creationism; it's intelligent design (ID). That's the Trojan Horse in which creationism now arrives, given a pseudo-scientific veneer by religious wack-jobs who have been balked in their efforts to insert blatant proselytizing into the public schools. What's worse is the traction this has given them with a public who only reluctantly accept the theory of evolution. Their new approach is even more insidious than ID theory; now they want to force schools to teach "the scientific controversy about evolution", and to stress that evolution is "just a theory." Input from the Voice of Reason:

1) The layman's definition of a theory differs sharply from that of the scientist. To laymen, a theory is mere speculation. To scientists, a theory is an entire chain of reason, backed by empirical evidence, that explains natural phenomena. Therefore, the second law of physics is also "just a theory", but you don't see creationists trying to add disclaimers to that.

2) There is no scientific controversy about evolution. The vast majority of scientists accept it, and the ID crowd has not been able to sway them. Scientists don't ask if evolution occurred (they know it did); they ask how it occurred. The only controversy is among religious folks, not among scientists.

Bunch of nonsense, really, but it's disheartening how much public sentiment has been swayed by it. Proves that the American people will buy anything if it's properly packaged.

Another political post

Let me preface this post by saying that I voted for Ed Rendell, both in the Democratic primaries and in the general election. I'm very glad he won, because I think he can do the good job for Pennsylvania that he did for Philadelphia.

And Pennsylvania needs it, let me tell you. Right now that chowderheads in the legislature are balking at Governor Rendell's plan to increase state funding for education. I guess the honorable representatives and senators feel that Pennsylvania's place as 47th in terms of state contribution to education is a mark of honor, or that as long as Mississippi remains in the union we don't look so bad. That sucks for a number of reasons. First, the inequalities bred by the current funding of public schools (i.e. through property tax) are just unacceptable. Why should a kid in Lower Merion have access to far superior facilities and smaller class sizes than a kid from North Philadelphia? Hell, the kid from the city arguably needs the extra attention much more than his suburban counterpart. Second, if we want to make Pennsylvania an attractive place for people to live (and I'm assuming we do), then we have to make our educational system as strong as possible. People with children who are looking to relocate are strongly influenced by the quality of the schools in the area, and we're fools not to recognize that.

Evidently, the legislature likes the current inequality and stagnancy of the property-tax-funded system. Bully for them. However, I don't want to hear them complaining that Pennsylvania is an area in decline, because they are directly to blame. If you do what you've always done, you'll get what you always got.

Kidney stones

I was thinking the other day about the time I had a kidney stone, but instead of a boring narrative, I will relate the story through song! (Just what you needed.)

Kidney Rock (sung to the tune of "Jailhouse Rock")
It happened early morning around two a.m.
A pain that made me nauseous, gave my head a spin
I had to wake my brother and get in the car
And rush on down to Frankford Hospital E.R.

It was a rock, oh yeah it was a rock
Everybody in the E.R. stopped to take care of my kidney rock

I staggered in the door and went up to the nurse
I thought by then that I was ready for a hearse
They said I was the worst that they had ever seen
But soon I was in bed with my friend morphine

Oh rock, oh yeah it was a rock
I was tripping 'til the morphine stopped and thinking 'bout my kidney rock

So now I have to drink a river every day
And strain it all before I can throw it away
I hope that someday soon this kidney stone will pass
'Cause peeing in a bottle is a real pain in the ass

Oh rock, come on pass now rock
Leave the door to the bathroom unlocked until I get rid of this rock

Lord of the Crossing

Those who are reading A Song of Ice and Fire are thinking of Lord Frey, which is neat but not what this post is about. I'm talking about crossing guards, who are usually female, which pretty much blows the title. Sue me.

I took the train into town yesterday, and that means walking 1.5 miles through Mayfair to get to the station. On the way home, the schools were emptying, so I got to see crossing guards in action. I have a strange admiration for these women and (more rarely) men. I like the idea of people who make the crosswalks safe for children, which is really odd considering I don't care much for children. I always respect the authority of the crossing guard, waiting until she signals the children to cross even though I am technically outside her authority. If the job actually paid something, and if I liked children better, I'd consider it. If the city created adult crossing guards I would sign up, and perhaps be lucky enough to get posted at 5th & South. That means I'd get to be outside and people-watch whilst making sure no boneheads block the box.

Cloning

I saw on Cyn's blog some reflections about having a clone. I most definitely do not want a clone, Daddy. Reasons why:

1) I don't like sharing my clothes.

2) A bad hair day is hard enough to live with when you only have to see the results in a mirror. To see them on another person...too horrible.

3) I keep enough chocolate around the house for one of me. That's all.

4) He'd probably decide to get red highlights, too. Bitch.

5) He might hold a rival Halloween party, and on the same night as mine.

6) His blog would no doubt be titled, "You Only Turned Thirty Once, Fool!"

I have the extended Two Towers!

Picked it up Tuesday and watched it Tuesday, ha-cha! I'm not crazy about the movie in general, if truth be told; the fights are too Hollywood, what with Legolas and his shield-skiing, and with Gimli and Aragorn fighting off about one hundred orcs by themselves. Besides, the movie takes considerable liberties with the storyline as set down by Tolkien, and unnecessary ones at that. However, here's my run-down of what I like and what I don't.

Magic-rope scene: Like, although it doesn't add a great deal to the story.

Denethor/Boromir scene: Dislike, and in a strong way. It paints Denethor as a grasping, scheming old buzzard, which is just not how he appeared in the books. Denethor was strong-willed and stubborn, yes, but he was also perceptive and clever, with a strong sense of duty.

Additional Uruk-hai footage: Like, because it demonstrates that Saruman, a traitor to the White Council, had betrayed Sauron as well.

Gollum going hungry: Like big-time. Frodo's reaction is a mix of loathing, pity and disgust, which to my mind is the only way one can react to Gollum. He's truly wretched.

Hurons: Like. They were a crucial part of the Battle of the Hornburg, and it was nice to see Peter Jackson knows it.

See it for yourself, but be warned: You ain't getting my copy for awhile.

Amendment-mania

The next time some chowderhead proposes amending the U.S. Constitution, I swear I am going hari-kari in alphabetical order. Every time there's a happening that someone doesn't like, the amendment idea gets floated. In 220+ years, this nation has enacted fifteen amendments, one of which (Prohibition) was motivated by chowderheads, and another of which (anti-Prohibition) was motivated by those who realized they'd given the chowderheads the wheel. That leaves thirteen substantive amendments, and most of them concern things that mean a lot: extending equal protection of the law to all citizens, banning slavery, guaranteeing women the right to vote, etc. That's what an amendment is about: Making a sea-change that is fundamental to a free society.

In the wake of the Massachusetts Supreme Court ruling, the "I'm a primitive bigot" crowd has renewed its bleating for a same-sex-marriage amendment. Folks, folks...is this an issue that is fundamental to a free society? Does making sure Tom and Ivan never marry really protect our liberty? However, I welcome the chance to fight this out in the open. Bring on the amendment, chowderheads. We will fight you in the House, the Senate, and then in fifty state legislatures, making you argue in favor of bigotry every step of the way. In the end, if the people of this nation genuinely feel that same-sex marriages are something the union simply cannot endure, then I'll know the United States is a place where equality and justice are labeled, "straight only." I'll give Canada a try; they'll soon allow gay marriage, and they believe in universal healthcare too.

The times they are a-changing...

...and they're turning pink, as you can see.

There's alot of talk about backlash, particularly in light of the recent anti-sodomy law ruling, but I don't think it will amount to much. Once people calm down and realize that this neither breaks their legs nor picks their pockets (a Jefferson paraphrase), they'll move on to some reality show or something. I think most people tend to vote based on what affects their lives, and civil unions really don't affect that many people. Of course, the God Squad will go bananas, but in my opinion that's a good thing. And fun!

NOTE: The term "God Squad" does not refer to any old Christian, but rather Pat Robertson, Jerry Falwell, Timothy LaHaye and the people who support them.

A shining planet known as Earth...

If the title of this post reminds you of something, you rock! It's part of the montage dialogue of "Battlestar Galactica", which is now available on DVD. Yay!

BG is pretty cheesy at times (OK, it's cheesy most of the time), but I thought it was a fairly interesting story nonetheless. What I found particularly interesting was, in the course of its one season, the way the writers took the story away from the humans-vs.-Cylons conflict and explored some new territory. Most television shows stick to the tried and true, for fear of losing even a sliver of their audience. That kind of lowest-common-denominator approach to storytelling is what drove me away from television in the first place. Anyway, my mother is bugging me about what she can give me for Xmas, so I think I'll tell her that BG is the way to be. Oh yes.

The Worst Date I Ever Had

I thought I'd relate this story because I feel masochistic or something. I'll relate the lessons I learned along the way as well, except you'll get them in order and at the time I should have learned them. See how nice I am?

I met this guy who was an R.N. Fool that I was, I thought, "Hmm...that profession requires a high level of trust and responsibility. That must show in his personal life."

Lesson #1: A man's profession has zero to do with the quality of person he is. A doctor of impeccable repute can still be a lying sack of dirt marked "Danger!" in pink flashing neon letters.

We did a lunch date first, and then proceeded to an evening date. He proposed the Cartwheel, a club in New Hope, and I agreed.

Lesson #2: Stay away from clubs until at least the fourth date.

He said if I drove to his place, he'd drive us the rest of the way to New Hope. I agreed.

Lesson #3: Until the fourth date, always have your own transportation.

When we arrived, he asked me repeatedly if I knew this song or that song, and I told him repeatedly that I did not listen regularly to dance music, club music, or popular music.

Lesson #4: If a man asks you the same question twice on one date, and you've answered twice, he's not listening and flee.

He rarely spoke to me for our time at the Cartwheel, and spent a good deal of our time checking out other guys.

Lesson #5: When a man checks out other guys at a time he's supposed to be checking out you, he's wasting your time and flee.

He got completely hammered and thus I was forced to drive us back in his car. He handed me the keys and went off for a last bathroom visit before we left. I weighed his car keys in my hand as I weighed the choice before me: Do the honorable thing and wait for him to return, or get in the car and leave that rat bastard in the dust. I chose the honorable path and waited.

Lesson #6: Honor sucks.

If you've ever taken River Road, you'll know it's dark, narrow and twisty, and full of deer. Given that I was driving an unfamiliar car that wasn't mine, I elected to drive conservatively. Naturally, he felt free to complain about my driving, which made my hands clench knuckle-whiteningly.

Lesson #7: You can drive home an unconscious man just as easily as one who is awake.

Two geological ages later, I pulled into the parking lot at his apartment complex, turned off the car, and just about broke my legs getting back to my car. Scientists would have us believe it is impossible to attain infinite speed, but my 1993 Toyota Corolla proved them all wrong. I was taking no chances on him trying to kiss me or something.

I hope you've learned something from this post, because I sure did. I learned that date is more fun to talk about than to actually have endured.

Volunteer Blues

I went to the William Way Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgendered Community Center (otherwise known as the Way Gay Center) last night to volunteer for a planning committee, and - surprise, surprise - almost no one showed up. Three of us hung out for 35 minutes before throwing in the towel and moving on. This committee, BTW, is supposed to work on new programming to draw people to the Center, so it's ominous that the chairperson never even bothered to attend.

I used to do loads of volunteer work: the gay Ultimate group, Team Philadelphia, the Philadelphia Gay Men's Chorus, Q'zine. I dropped out of all of it over a period of two years because I developed the dreaded Volunteer Burn-Out (VBO). VBO happens for many reasons, but typical causes are:

- When 2% of the members do 98% of the work
- When 98% of the non-working members don't even bother to attend the events put together by the 2%
- When 98% of the non-working members feel free to criticize - but not assist - the work of the 2%

I soldiered along for as long as I could, but eventually I got to the point where volunteering was no longer enjoyable. My attitude towards volunteering is thus: If it's not fun, I'm not doing it. Well, it became really not fun, so I dropped out. Somewhat rejuvenated, I'm looking to re-enter the world of volunteering, and last night was an inauspicious start.

I dance a jig of glee!

These feet are a-tapping, because Roy Moore is history. Looks like someone down there understands that the chief justice of a state supreme court cannot openly defy a court order. Of course, this nut will probably run for governor, but if the people of Alabama are foolish enough to elect a nut, that's their problem.

It's funny. The Religious Right often contends that excluding mention of the Christian deity from the classroom endorses "humanism" (one wonders if they know what they mean by that), but including mention of that deity does not promote Christianity. Huh? So exclusion promotes but promotion does not promote. In a nation where only the bare majority of citizens accept evolutionary theory, this should come as no surpise. Little wonder the Europeans see us as a bunch of pudgy, lazy, religion-obsessed little prudes with itchy trigger-fingers.

My take on the media

Oftentimes we hear politicians say, "The media is liberal," or "The media is irresponsible." Here's my opinion: "media" is plural! It is! "Media" is the plural of "medium"; therefore, one should say, "The media are liberal." I even looked it upon in Merriam-Webster, which, although it acknowledges the use of "media" as a singular, still maintains it's plural. And so do I.

Now, to comment on the media, I think this stuff about the liberal media is just hooey. Sure, journalists as a group may be more liberal than the average American, but what about the folks who own the means of communication? They're nearly all rich, male, white, heterosexual and over forty. Class, to which party do most rich, male, white, heterosexual, over-forty people belong? If you said "Green" or "Democrat", you are fucking stupid. If you said "Republican" take a seat at the head of the class. No matter how liberal the journalist, if the editors and publishers are conservative, so is the publication/broadcast.

Stupid or just foolish?

You'll often hear, "People are stupid," a statement with which I just do not agree. People are, generally, not stupid. People invented the internal combustion engine, the Internet, antibiotics, vaccinations...these are not the works of morons. When folks say that, I think they really mean, "People are foolish," a kettle of a different color.

Stupidity is an actual lack of intelligence. Stupid people learn slowly, process information clumsily, and show a general deficiency in terms of memory or knowledge. I have met very few genuinely stupid people in my life. Foolishness, however, has little to do with the way one learns, stores, and processes information. There are many well educated people with degrees in this and doctorates in that, who are indisputably intelligent, but who show an amazing lack of intuition and enlightenment, and who consistently make bad decisions. I have met many foolish people. I often think of it in AD&D terms: intelligence and wisdom.

Example: Two women approach a weatherbeaten rope-and-plank bridge over a deep chasm. One woman is all intelligence and no wisdom, and her companion is all wisdom and no intelligence. Ms. Intellignce draws upon what she knows of rope, wood, weather and physics, and calculates that there is an 80% chance the bridge will bear the women's weight. Therefore, she recommends crossing. Ms. Wisdom, who knows nothing about physics, looks at the deep gorge, considers what will happen if the bridge gives way, and weighs that against the importance of crossing. She recommends either finding another, safer, way across the chasm, or abandoning the trip altogether.

See the difference? Ms. Intelligence has an amazing ability to calculate the odds, relying on her mental prowess, but Ms. Wisdom keeps a long view of the situation, relying on perspective and common sense. Obviously, you can tell which I favor. Nearly anyone can be taught facts and theories, but it's harder to teach wisdom and good judgement. Given the state of the world, I suggest we should concentrate less on the former and more on the latter.

The problem with Star Trek is...

Since becoming a raving Babylon 5 fan, I've gotten some perspective on Star Trek and what's wrong with it. Don't get me wrong; I very much enjoyed TNG, and I fully realize that B5 owes a great debt to the entire franchise. However, Star Trek has some failings, and I'm blogging 'em.

Too much technology: Transporters and replicators, which are essentially the same technology, really make it difficult to carry off a story, because they solve perhaps too many problems. There was a TNG episode in which the crew cured someone of a disease by transporting her back to the ship with everything but the disease. Couldn't they do that with any disease? Doesn't that in effect mean that the Federation can cure any disease? Besides, that transporter was mighty selective in who it could or couldn't affect. I remember an episode in which they located Picard's son (who at this point was a stranger to all of them) on a planet where he was mountain-climbing and beamed him right up lickety-split. This is the same transporter Wesley Crusher was able to foil by taking off his communicator. Sorry...if the damn thing can find a stranger on a planet, it can find some snot-nosed little brainiac on the very same ship. (Note: Picard's son was pretty cute, and when they beamed him up he was wearing a tight little athletic outfit, and he had his back to the camera. Oooh-lala.)

Too perfect: I agree that, should humanity survive until the 23rd century, we shall undoubtedly have shed much of the pettiness that currently bedevils us, but that doesn't mean we'll be anywhere near as perfect as the TNG crew. My goodness...just once I'd like to see Geordhi get annoyed with Data, or remark that Riker just rubs him the wrong way. Vastly enlightened people are still people, and that means they'll have bad days, annoying habits, and personal agendas that differ from Starfleet's. B5 had a labor strike, for Pete's sake, whereas Captain Sisko's worst at-home problem was the replicator not getting his coffee exactly right.

Money is obsolete?!?!? No, no, no! I don't care how wonderful Earth is, or how advanced its people...you still have to have currency. You must. Must. If not, how do you determine where/how people live? Can a Federation citizen demand a castle and get it? Or a starship? Doesn't work, wouldn't happen.

Too many mega-beings: Let's see...there's the Dowd, the Q, Nagilum, and of course those folks who live in the center of the galaxy and holo-project their heads onto the bridge for fun. Mother of all creatures...you can't swing a dead cat in the Star Trek world without hitting something that's omnipotent. Even the Vorlon and the Shadows from the B5 world aren't omnipotent; they're just really, really scary.

BTW, I have to wait until early January for the fourth season of B5, about which I am not happy. I have zero patience with this sort of thing.

More songs

I was again thinking about the days of Cathy and I and joke songs, and another came to me. This was written when Jack-o was simultaneously turning into a gray elf and dodging child molestation charges. Enjoy!

Black or White (sung to the tune of Michael Jackson's "Black or White")
I used to be a human now I'm not sure
And children used to love me not anymore
That was when I was the King of Pop, when moonwalking was still at its height
But now I'm just a has-been and I don't know if I'm black or white

The NAACP just won't let me in
Because they say they don't know where I have been
My nose has been sculptured and now they say my skin is too light
And the Ku Klux Klan won't take me 'cause they don't know if I'm black or white

I ain't afraid of no D.A., I ain't afraid of TV
I got lots of money to buy off testimony
I live in a giant playhouse, America's weirdest child
Compared to what I look like, even LaToya seems mild

Even Elvis Presley's daughter wasn't weird enough to take my spotlight
She ran with $15 million 'cause she don't care if I'm black or white

The bridge needs some work, but otherwise I like it. Joke songs also make good blogging material, so no one can accuse me of neglecting The First Time I Turned Thirty.

Weird Al? Bah!

My friend Cathy and I (when we were coworkers) used to rewrite popular songs ala Weird Al to suit whatever was going on in the office or at the world at large, and one I did came back to me the other day, word for word. I inscribe it here, for the ages. It's based on the Paula Abdul hit, "Promise of a New Day." If you don't remember it, you are a lucky, lucky person.

(A little background: Back in the 90's, the state of Colorado amended its constitution to forbid localities to ban discrimination based on sexual orientation. A few years later, the Supreme Court of the United States overturned Amendment 2, saying that Colorado did not have the authority to allow certain kinds of discrimination but to forbid others. Hence this song.)

Promise of Some New Gays

Colorado's gonna have to adjust, 'cause Amendment 2 just bit the dust
What did the high court say?
Promise of some new gays
Homophobia it just took a fall, and though Scalia wants to kill us all
Looks like we'll have our day
Promise of some new gays

And so small-minded laws won't change the world, oh no
So the only promise is that gays in Denver will live and marry one another

See the lesbians all skiing the slopes? The Consitution crushed the bigots' hopes.
What did the high court say?
Promise of some new gays

And so small-minded laws won't change the world, oh no
So the only promise is that gays in Denver will live and marry one another

Now the drag-queens have the freedom to roam into Boulder and then call it home
I think they're going to stay
Promise of some new gays

Alien! Alien! Alien!

As you might have guessed from the title, which is marvelously subtle, I'm seeing the director's cut of "Alien" tonight. Okay, it's at the Riverview, which is less good, but I can overlook that in favor of the movie. This is one of my all-time favorite movies, and one I've seen countless times. I've seen a few of the deleted scenes, but never in sequence, so needless to say I am most excited.

I played some pool Saturday night, and performed erratically as always. In this way I am like Presto from the Dungeons & Dragons cartoon: Sometimes he got the most amazing, encounter-winning shit from that hat, and other times he got purple crepe paper, which, while attractive, isn't much help against Venger.

I feel so dirty!

I went to the polls today, and I voted for John Street. Ugh. As I reached for the button, my hand jerked back spasmodically, and I had to repeat my Election-Day mantra, "Must keep Republicans out of power." Only then was I able to cast my vote for Street.

I thought long and hard about my vote, and in the end I decided to vote Democrat because a Republican mayor would certainly do his damnedest to impede Ed Rendell's reelection, and to support boneheads like Santorum and His Fraudulency. Katz may be pro-gay and socially liberal and all that, but when the Republican Party blows its trumpets, he'll respond, even if it means betraying every voter in this city. Therefore, I voted my fears instead of my hopes, something I always advise people not to do. And that's why I feel dirty.

Voting

I used to refuse to vote on the grounds that it didn't change anything, but I admit I've reached the opposite conclusion. These days I vote as often as they'll let me, although not because I think this candidate is truly superior to that one; in truth, very few politicians stand head and shoulder above the rest. However, in my reading on election reform, I've come to realize that voting is very important, but not for the reasons most people think.

Politicians ultimately care about votes more than money, because votes are what get counted on Election Day. Sure, money helps you get votes, but you can't actually trade in dollars for votes. (Neat idea, though.) Now, one might say, "Well that proves that politicians listen to their constituency", an assertion that is not quite correct. Politicians care about the opinions of their voting constituency, which do not always equate to the entirety of their disticts or states. It's well known that certain demographics vote more consistently than others, and that the whiter, older and richer you are, the more likely you are to vote. It therefore should come as no surprise that rich white folks wield an inordinate amount of power in this country. Don't believe me? Consider the third rail of US politics otherwise known as Social Security. Since old people vote in droves, if you touch it, you die, at least politically. Therefore, if you are a politician, you worry about the desires not of your entire constituency, but of the constituency most likely to vote. Who cares what people who sit home on Election Day think?

That being said, if poor folks voted in the same or greater numbers as rich folks, I guarantee we'd see a dramatic shift in national priorities. I predict that the minimum wage would rise, public transportation would see increased funding, and universal healthcare would become a topic of serious debate, instead of merely a pipe-dream. I'm not pounding the drums of patriotism here either; this is pure self-interest. My college philosophy professor once said that if everyone were merely smart egoists the world would be a better place, and I believe it. However, even for those of us who believe in altruism, voting matters.

That's why I vote.

Halloween!

Yes, I am posting about Halloween two days after it's over. Live with it.

Sean, Ed and I went to NYC to see the parade, and I of course stole some time to visit not one but two Daffy's. The visits were disappointing as the clothing there was much more conservative than that of the store in Philadelphia. One location was in Herald Square, which I suppose explains it, but I was left unfulfilled all the same.

Anyway, the parade was the coolest, and the weather was perfect for perching on a construction scaffold to watch the costumes go by. My personal favorite was the drag-queen combo of Blanche and Baby Jane Hudson. When they passed by I yelled, "But ya are, Blanche! Ya are in that chair!" We also chatted up some British guys, one of whom was to die for. (Rule of physics: All cute guys are made even cuter by the presence of a British accent.) The Village, of course, was a madhouse, but that's when it's most fun. I got home around 1am, tired but satisfied that my Halloween had been well enjoyed.

I'm not sure I could live in New York, as much as I like to visit. Even if it weren't almighty expensive, it's awfully frenetic, even for a city boy like me. Personally, I like that Philadelphia keeps a certain serenity despite the fact that it's the fifth-largest city in the US. That of course raises the question of why I'm looking to leave it, the answer to which is a blog in itself. And I'm not starting another blog.