Well it's been a good ride, folks. But I received an email last night which is, for lack of a better term, my golden ticket to a better life -- and a big goodbye to this crappy one!
Apparently the Central Bank of Nigeria is in possession of a $19.5 million inheritance which has been reserved for me and only me (and possibly the president of the bank). I know, I know, it sounded a little fishy to me at first, too. But take a look at how it is signed:
OFFICIALLY SIGNED.
PROF. CHARLES SOLUDO.
GOVERNOR, CENTRAL BANK OF NIGERIA.
C-B-N
That's right, Officially Signed. And below that was a picture of him. In a suit! You don't fake stuff like that. You just don't.
But why me, you may be asking? Well my friends, the best explanation is that sometimes good things happen to good people, and sometimes great things happen to great people. You see, what it all comes down to is that I am better than you. And the great people of Nigeria recognize that, which is why they selected me. Rather than you. I know it stings, but use it as a learning experience. Maybe if you were stronger, faster, more attractive, or perhaps just...better than what you are, then they would have chosen you. But they didn't, as evidenced by the completely personal email addressed to me and explaining that I have been chosen. Above you. And everyone else in the whole world.
So try not to miss me too much. I'm off to Nigeria where fortune and glory awaits. So long, suckers!
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Friday, June 20, 2008
Greatest Athlete Debate
After reading the Wall Street Journal article I saw linked today on the subject, I felt the need to weigh in with my super-duper high-speed opinion (because you care, dang nabbit). The WSJ, which is, in my opinion, an outstanding source for political writing and world events, obviously is quite lacking in the department of athletics.
A few things jumped out at me upon viewing the list and reading the reasoning behind it. One, I don't see any cyclists or triathletes. I don't think anyone pushes their body to the limits as much as they do. Two, I see a boxer on the list yet not one MMA (Mixed Martial Arts) fighter. Wrong answer. And three, there's a baseball player on there. Eh? On the top ten athletes in the world?
First off, I disagree with a ranking of this type anyway. But it makes for good conversation so let's pick it apart and I will address each of my three complaints for the fun of it.
Roman Sebrle: I think a decathlete is a great choice, even if it's kind of a stupid sport to go into. I mean, these guys obviously have insane athletic ability and chose a sport to dedicate themselves to that will eventually take them....where, exactly? Oh yeah, the Olympics are great, but then what? Basically you would have to get a real job after that. Pssshaaw. Whatever.
Lebron James: Meh. Yes, basketball players must be great athletes. I know that. But is there any need for serious strength? Endurance, yes (both muscular and cardiovascular). But actual strength required is very little. Putting him as #2 is pretty weak.
Floyd Mayweather, jr.: A phenomenal athlete, to be sure. However, why a boxer and no MMA guys? A boxer trains one thing: boxing. This requires speed, strength, endurance, hand-eye coordination, and mobility on one's feet. MMA, by comparison, requires all of these, but on an entirely different level. One must be good at boxing, kick-boxing, wrestling, and Brazilian jiu jitsu if they have any hope whatsoever of competing at a decent level. Not to take away from Mayweather, but if he were to step into the ring with a top level MMA guy (take someone at his weight class like Urijah Faber or BJ Penn) and he would get worked over in a matter of a minute or two. There is no aspect of athletics that an MMA fighter can be lacking in to be good.
Ladainian Tomlinson: I think this guy should be higher than Lebron, because he has to execute athletic skill -- speed, coordination, power -- while men twice his size are trying to kill him. Awesome.
Roger Federer: I used to think tennis was gay. Then I competed at Wimbledon and won like five titles and gained a little respect for it. Still gay, but pretty cool, I guess.
Sidney Crosby: Another who should be higher than Lebron James. Hockey players must have incredible hand-eye coordination, stamina, strength, and pain tolerance. In terms of "toughness" I would argue these guys are as high as football players and fighters.
Liu Xiang: Sorry dude, jumping over little things in your path does not warrant top ten status. Maybe if people were trying to tackle you while you did it or something, but....no.
Jeremy Wariner: Does being really, really fast for 400 meters warrant "Greatest Athlete in the World" status? I've seen some dudes on the show COPS that were wicked fast for that long, but then they usually get hit by a car or fall off of a wall or something and break a leg. Unimpressive.
Ronaldo: Anyone who knows me knows I love to play soccer. And I believe that these are some of the greatest athletes in the world. However, two areas where they are greatly lacking (usually) is in upper-body strength and toughness. The whole "diving" issue -- i.e. faking an injury to get a call -- has become so out of hand it's hard for me to even watch the game. I think that they are tougher than they let on, but they need to start proving that to the world.
Alex Rodriguez: Again, seriously? Ok, does baseball require tremendous hand-eye coordination? Absolutely. Does it require power (albeit in short bursts)? Definitely. But what about speed? Not unless you are a base-stealer (rare). Endurance? Neither muscular or cardiovascular required to be "great" at America's pastime. Is anyone trying to hit you with the bat? No? Let me know when that happens and then we'll talk.
I would sooner put Tiger Woods on this list than a baseball player. Some people don't think of golfers as great athletes, but consider this: part of sports or athletics is the relationship of mind to body. In any sport, an athlete must face the "demons" in his own mind. Be they fear of being in front of people, fear of getting hit, fear of just plain losing, etc., every athlete must conquer and silence these demons to perform at his/her best. Where golf is different than other sports is that a golfer does not "react" to an opponent. This means that instead of relying on muscle memory and training to create a visceral, primal response, he or she must think their way through the action. All while under the watchful eye of everyone, and with only their own thoughts screaming in their head. Those who have not done it may think that makes it easier; not even by a mile. When a hockey player has a puck flying at him, or a fighter has a punch shooting at him, their brain and body react to this based on training. After thousands of hours spent in training, muscle memory takes over and creates an almost primal response without consciously being aware of it. A golfer has too much time for this, and is "reacting" to a completely stationary object. This window of time actually works against the golfer, as it provides all the opportunity in the world for those demons to creep in. That is why, when discussing the relation of mind and body, a golfer ranks as high as anyone.
My own opinion? Being a soldier who takes fitness development pretty serious (as it can be paramount to success in the job), I look for ways to condition myself in the most appropriate way. What I have found is that MMA fighters and the way they train is probably the most grueling as well as being the most intense type of training out there. No other sport requires every skill set that makes one an athlete developed at such a high level. I believe that cyclists and marathoners (triathletes, obviously) have MMA guys beat when it comes to endurance, no question about it. Yet they lack development in hand-eye coordination, lateral movement, brute strength, and the threat of being injured from an external source. No one is trying to punch you or kick you while you are running a marathon. Football players and hockey players would come closest in this category, but their work-period is rarely longer than one minute. Take a look at this video for an example of MMA-style conditioning (and this training doesn't even address the actual skill set development, which would also have to be undertaken).
Overall point, do I think that MMA fighters are the greatest athletes? No, because I don't think that you can compare realistically from sport to sport. It's tough enough to compare within the same sport (was Ronnie Lott better than Jerry Rice? Two different skill sets, but both were amazing), so going beyond those boundaries is next to impossible. I would just like to see MMA receive the respect it deserves. One, because these guys are tremendous athletes, and two (more importantly), this is absolutely superb training for military and law enforcement. Both the mind and skill sets needed transfer directly into high-intensity conflict careers and can not only bring a soldier or police officer to a higher level of operational ability, but can potentially save his or her life, or the life of someone they are trying to protect. Not necessarily because the soldier or officer will be engaging in a brawl, but the mental preparation developed from this training is exactly what one needs to stay calm under pressure.
Am I biased? Of course I am, but keep in mind, I just defended golf for crying out loud. No one defends golf when talking about athletics. But also remember that I am an aficionado of athletics in nearly every form, as it shows not just what the human body is capable of, but what the mind can drive the body to accomplish. No one rises to the top in any sport solely on athletic ability; they must also posses the mental attributes needed to drive them to a higher level, as well as fight out the demons which will most certainly convince you that you aren't strong enough, fast enough, or good enough to win. But doggone it, people still like you.
A few things jumped out at me upon viewing the list and reading the reasoning behind it. One, I don't see any cyclists or triathletes. I don't think anyone pushes their body to the limits as much as they do. Two, I see a boxer on the list yet not one MMA (Mixed Martial Arts) fighter. Wrong answer. And three, there's a baseball player on there. Eh? On the top ten athletes in the world?
First off, I disagree with a ranking of this type anyway. But it makes for good conversation so let's pick it apart and I will address each of my three complaints for the fun of it.
Roman Sebrle: I think a decathlete is a great choice, even if it's kind of a stupid sport to go into. I mean, these guys obviously have insane athletic ability and chose a sport to dedicate themselves to that will eventually take them....where, exactly? Oh yeah, the Olympics are great, but then what? Basically you would have to get a real job after that. Pssshaaw. Whatever.
Lebron James: Meh. Yes, basketball players must be great athletes. I know that. But is there any need for serious strength? Endurance, yes (both muscular and cardiovascular). But actual strength required is very little. Putting him as #2 is pretty weak.
Floyd Mayweather, jr.: A phenomenal athlete, to be sure. However, why a boxer and no MMA guys? A boxer trains one thing: boxing. This requires speed, strength, endurance, hand-eye coordination, and mobility on one's feet. MMA, by comparison, requires all of these, but on an entirely different level. One must be good at boxing, kick-boxing, wrestling, and Brazilian jiu jitsu if they have any hope whatsoever of competing at a decent level. Not to take away from Mayweather, but if he were to step into the ring with a top level MMA guy (take someone at his weight class like Urijah Faber or BJ Penn) and he would get worked over in a matter of a minute or two. There is no aspect of athletics that an MMA fighter can be lacking in to be good.
Ladainian Tomlinson: I think this guy should be higher than Lebron, because he has to execute athletic skill -- speed, coordination, power -- while men twice his size are trying to kill him. Awesome.
Roger Federer: I used to think tennis was gay. Then I competed at Wimbledon and won like five titles and gained a little respect for it. Still gay, but pretty cool, I guess.
Sidney Crosby: Another who should be higher than Lebron James. Hockey players must have incredible hand-eye coordination, stamina, strength, and pain tolerance. In terms of "toughness" I would argue these guys are as high as football players and fighters.
Liu Xiang: Sorry dude, jumping over little things in your path does not warrant top ten status. Maybe if people were trying to tackle you while you did it or something, but....no.
Jeremy Wariner: Does being really, really fast for 400 meters warrant "Greatest Athlete in the World" status? I've seen some dudes on the show COPS that were wicked fast for that long, but then they usually get hit by a car or fall off of a wall or something and break a leg. Unimpressive.
Ronaldo: Anyone who knows me knows I love to play soccer. And I believe that these are some of the greatest athletes in the world. However, two areas where they are greatly lacking (usually) is in upper-body strength and toughness. The whole "diving" issue -- i.e. faking an injury to get a call -- has become so out of hand it's hard for me to even watch the game. I think that they are tougher than they let on, but they need to start proving that to the world.
Alex Rodriguez: Again, seriously? Ok, does baseball require tremendous hand-eye coordination? Absolutely. Does it require power (albeit in short bursts)? Definitely. But what about speed? Not unless you are a base-stealer (rare). Endurance? Neither muscular or cardiovascular required to be "great" at America's pastime. Is anyone trying to hit you with the bat? No? Let me know when that happens and then we'll talk.
I would sooner put Tiger Woods on this list than a baseball player. Some people don't think of golfers as great athletes, but consider this: part of sports or athletics is the relationship of mind to body. In any sport, an athlete must face the "demons" in his own mind. Be they fear of being in front of people, fear of getting hit, fear of just plain losing, etc., every athlete must conquer and silence these demons to perform at his/her best. Where golf is different than other sports is that a golfer does not "react" to an opponent. This means that instead of relying on muscle memory and training to create a visceral, primal response, he or she must think their way through the action. All while under the watchful eye of everyone, and with only their own thoughts screaming in their head. Those who have not done it may think that makes it easier; not even by a mile. When a hockey player has a puck flying at him, or a fighter has a punch shooting at him, their brain and body react to this based on training. After thousands of hours spent in training, muscle memory takes over and creates an almost primal response without consciously being aware of it. A golfer has too much time for this, and is "reacting" to a completely stationary object. This window of time actually works against the golfer, as it provides all the opportunity in the world for those demons to creep in. That is why, when discussing the relation of mind and body, a golfer ranks as high as anyone.
My own opinion? Being a soldier who takes fitness development pretty serious (as it can be paramount to success in the job), I look for ways to condition myself in the most appropriate way. What I have found is that MMA fighters and the way they train is probably the most grueling as well as being the most intense type of training out there. No other sport requires every skill set that makes one an athlete developed at such a high level. I believe that cyclists and marathoners (triathletes, obviously) have MMA guys beat when it comes to endurance, no question about it. Yet they lack development in hand-eye coordination, lateral movement, brute strength, and the threat of being injured from an external source. No one is trying to punch you or kick you while you are running a marathon. Football players and hockey players would come closest in this category, but their work-period is rarely longer than one minute. Take a look at this video for an example of MMA-style conditioning (and this training doesn't even address the actual skill set development, which would also have to be undertaken).
Overall point, do I think that MMA fighters are the greatest athletes? No, because I don't think that you can compare realistically from sport to sport. It's tough enough to compare within the same sport (was Ronnie Lott better than Jerry Rice? Two different skill sets, but both were amazing), so going beyond those boundaries is next to impossible. I would just like to see MMA receive the respect it deserves. One, because these guys are tremendous athletes, and two (more importantly), this is absolutely superb training for military and law enforcement. Both the mind and skill sets needed transfer directly into high-intensity conflict careers and can not only bring a soldier or police officer to a higher level of operational ability, but can potentially save his or her life, or the life of someone they are trying to protect. Not necessarily because the soldier or officer will be engaging in a brawl, but the mental preparation developed from this training is exactly what one needs to stay calm under pressure.
Am I biased? Of course I am, but keep in mind, I just defended golf for crying out loud. No one defends golf when talking about athletics. But also remember that I am an aficionado of athletics in nearly every form, as it shows not just what the human body is capable of, but what the mind can drive the body to accomplish. No one rises to the top in any sport solely on athletic ability; they must also posses the mental attributes needed to drive them to a higher level, as well as fight out the demons which will most certainly convince you that you aren't strong enough, fast enough, or good enough to win. But doggone it, people still like you.
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
Psychologizing My Brain
Want an update on the last month? Sit down, strap in, and hold on; it's going to come at you fast and furious.
The end of April brought me to the awe-inspiring Ft. Dix, New Jersey. Which, as we all know, is world famous for.... uhh..... ?? Anyway, moving right along... the purpose of my visit there was to become qualified as a Psychological Operations soldier in today's illustrious Army Reserves. Sound high-speed? If it did, then my first job as a PsyOp'er is successful because that means I got you to believe some wickedly inaccurate propaganda. Well, unless of course your idea of "high-speed" is ten-hour sessions of Power Point, seven days a week. If that be the case, then there was no need to PsyOp you because you have already been PsyOped by someone whose Kung Fu is way stronger than mine.
To put it bluntly: I never been so bored in my entire life. High school went by quicker. At one point an instructor asked a friend of mine a question. As opposed to most people in the same situation who would try to fake an answer and make it sound as if they were paying attention, he responded with a confident "oh I have no idea," and promptly went back to his happy place. When we asked him later about it he said "seriously, I had no idea what the question even was; I was thinking about boobs." That about sums up where most of our minds went just to pass the time.
In all honesty I have no idea what half of the classes were about. I have a pretty good handle on what it is that PsyOp does -- a tactical, strategic version of a marketing campaign -- but most of the classes ran together so badly that I'm pretty sure I actually designed several space stations in my brain while trying to stay awake. Heaven forbid that the Army uses examples from businesses who make billions convincing people to buy things they don't need -- Nike, Budweiser, seat-belt makers -- they feel that reading and re-reading manuals first developed in the 1950's is just progressive enough, thank you very much. I tell you this, if the leaflets we dropped on the North Koreans aren't lesson enough for the future, then I guess this job is just not the place for you.
Where the real comedy came was when we all went out in to the woods for a "Field Training Exercise." I use the quotations because, well, it was only the "field" in a sense that we weren't at the barracks, but rather about ten minutes from them staying in a prison camp. Added on to that the fact that a large portion of the 69 students came from jobs like "legal assistant" or "graphic artist." Really? They have graphic artists in the Army? News to me, but here we are. And seeing people like that in the "field" is nothing but a good time. If you can't laugh in those situations, you're not human. One day I ended up with a guy who was a Military Intelligence specialist -- who also had a PhD in Biological Chemistry, go figure -- as my driver. Upon giving him direction on which way to turn, his response was to turn, look at me, and say "are you sure, sergeant?" No man, it was just a suggestion. We can ponder it and analyze it for a while, if you would like? Maybe do some research? Yeah, we've got time. Maybe even put it before a committee? Wow. To his credit, however, the guy was pretty smart and I have no doubt that he is exceptional at what he does. As long as split-second decision making is nowhere near his job description.
As with nearly every military school, this one seemed to be more about checking the block rather than providing quality training. During the FTX we would be handed a new mission and a change of leadership in each team 4 times a day. After running a couple of missions, one of the instructors criticized us for our lack of security and basic tactical awareness. So our next mission, those of us who had been in the infantry changed things around. At the end of the day, the head instructor told us "you guys are not infantry. You need to worry about the PsyOp mission only." Mixed signals much? Yes please, I'll take two servings. Where the funny comes is in seeing how rattled some soldiers get by this; getting all worked up because of conflicting guidance given. The simple fact is, there is no need to worry about it if the instructors aren't even on the same page (a fact that a couple of them freely admitted to us while in private).
By the end of the course I was truly wondering if I had made the right decision in terms of job choice when coming in to the Reserves. Were it not for some very high quality individuals that I met and will be working with, I'm really not sure what I would do. Just like everything else in life, however, those you are with can make or break it. And I can say that I am truly honored -- and humored beyond belief -- to be working with some of these people.
Since returning I have been doing a lot of PsyOp work on my own brain. It's a complicated story and involves one of those "moments of clarity" that would take digging deep into my brain, and that's kind of a scary place to be honest. Let's just say that things are much clearer now up in the ol' noggin and leave it at that for now. After all, there can be only so much psychologizing in one sitting. So excuse me, I'm gonna go zone out for a bit and think about boobs.
The end of April brought me to the awe-inspiring Ft. Dix, New Jersey. Which, as we all know, is world famous for.... uhh..... ?? Anyway, moving right along... the purpose of my visit there was to become qualified as a Psychological Operations soldier in today's illustrious Army Reserves. Sound high-speed? If it did, then my first job as a PsyOp'er is successful because that means I got you to believe some wickedly inaccurate propaganda. Well, unless of course your idea of "high-speed" is ten-hour sessions of Power Point, seven days a week. If that be the case, then there was no need to PsyOp you because you have already been PsyOped by someone whose Kung Fu is way stronger than mine.
To put it bluntly: I never been so bored in my entire life. High school went by quicker. At one point an instructor asked a friend of mine a question. As opposed to most people in the same situation who would try to fake an answer and make it sound as if they were paying attention, he responded with a confident "oh I have no idea," and promptly went back to his happy place. When we asked him later about it he said "seriously, I had no idea what the question even was; I was thinking about boobs." That about sums up where most of our minds went just to pass the time.
In all honesty I have no idea what half of the classes were about. I have a pretty good handle on what it is that PsyOp does -- a tactical, strategic version of a marketing campaign -- but most of the classes ran together so badly that I'm pretty sure I actually designed several space stations in my brain while trying to stay awake. Heaven forbid that the Army uses examples from businesses who make billions convincing people to buy things they don't need -- Nike, Budweiser, seat-belt makers -- they feel that reading and re-reading manuals first developed in the 1950's is just progressive enough, thank you very much. I tell you this, if the leaflets we dropped on the North Koreans aren't lesson enough for the future, then I guess this job is just not the place for you.
Where the real comedy came was when we all went out in to the woods for a "Field Training Exercise." I use the quotations because, well, it was only the "field" in a sense that we weren't at the barracks, but rather about ten minutes from them staying in a prison camp. Added on to that the fact that a large portion of the 69 students came from jobs like "legal assistant" or "graphic artist." Really? They have graphic artists in the Army? News to me, but here we are. And seeing people like that in the "field" is nothing but a good time. If you can't laugh in those situations, you're not human. One day I ended up with a guy who was a Military Intelligence specialist -- who also had a PhD in Biological Chemistry, go figure -- as my driver. Upon giving him direction on which way to turn, his response was to turn, look at me, and say "are you sure, sergeant?" No man, it was just a suggestion. We can ponder it and analyze it for a while, if you would like? Maybe do some research? Yeah, we've got time. Maybe even put it before a committee? Wow. To his credit, however, the guy was pretty smart and I have no doubt that he is exceptional at what he does. As long as split-second decision making is nowhere near his job description.
As with nearly every military school, this one seemed to be more about checking the block rather than providing quality training. During the FTX we would be handed a new mission and a change of leadership in each team 4 times a day. After running a couple of missions, one of the instructors criticized us for our lack of security and basic tactical awareness. So our next mission, those of us who had been in the infantry changed things around. At the end of the day, the head instructor told us "you guys are not infantry. You need to worry about the PsyOp mission only." Mixed signals much? Yes please, I'll take two servings. Where the funny comes is in seeing how rattled some soldiers get by this; getting all worked up because of conflicting guidance given. The simple fact is, there is no need to worry about it if the instructors aren't even on the same page (a fact that a couple of them freely admitted to us while in private).
By the end of the course I was truly wondering if I had made the right decision in terms of job choice when coming in to the Reserves. Were it not for some very high quality individuals that I met and will be working with, I'm really not sure what I would do. Just like everything else in life, however, those you are with can make or break it. And I can say that I am truly honored -- and humored beyond belief -- to be working with some of these people.
Since returning I have been doing a lot of PsyOp work on my own brain. It's a complicated story and involves one of those "moments of clarity" that would take digging deep into my brain, and that's kind of a scary place to be honest. Let's just say that things are much clearer now up in the ol' noggin and leave it at that for now. After all, there can be only so much psychologizing in one sitting. So excuse me, I'm gonna go zone out for a bit and think about boobs.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
If There Were An Award For Biggest Geek Ever...
It would go to me, because I would be wearing these pants (and looking mightily hot, I might add).
I think that's the nerdiest thing I have ever seen. But at least now there is a standard: "Hey, what's the nerdiest thing you've ever seen?" Well my friends, now that question can be easily answered.
I think that's the nerdiest thing I have ever seen. But at least now there is a standard: "Hey, what's the nerdiest thing you've ever seen?" Well my friends, now that question can be easily answered.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Keep Your Head Up
A collection of hockey hits to remind everyone that it's playoff season. Go Avs, go Sharks.
A classic battle of two incredible fighters (is it wrong to laugh at that? Morally, I mean...).
An extremely rare glimpse at one of the deadliest of all Ninjas -- the drunken Street Ninja!
And if anyone wonders why I am currently immersing myself in Brazilian jiu jitsu rather than, say, kung fu or something like that, here would be one example, and yet another here if you're bored.
A classic battle of two incredible fighters (is it wrong to laugh at that? Morally, I mean...).
An extremely rare glimpse at one of the deadliest of all Ninjas -- the drunken Street Ninja!
And if anyone wonders why I am currently immersing myself in Brazilian jiu jitsu rather than, say, kung fu or something like that, here would be one example, and yet another here if you're bored.
Quick Book Review (And Then Back to Funny)
Liberal Fascism by Jonah Goldberg. Go buy it right now and read it. Now. Go. Hurry up.
Seriously though, this is a fascinating book that basically centers on what fascism really is and how, in today's society, our ideas of it and our understanding of "right" and "left" when concerning politics is, essentially, a bit skewed (and not all that accurate).
Filled with page after page of "whoa, I didn't know that" and "I never thought of it that way" type stuff, the book is incredibly well researched and worth every minute of your time if you are at all interested in the nature of politics today and the history behind it. I can't recommend it highly enough for someone interested in history and/or current affairs.
I won't bother with the details (read the description at the link provided) unless the debate happens to kick up in the comment section (from any one of the four of you who still read this blog).
Update: The blog for the book and answers to some criticism of it can be found here.
Seriously though, this is a fascinating book that basically centers on what fascism really is and how, in today's society, our ideas of it and our understanding of "right" and "left" when concerning politics is, essentially, a bit skewed (and not all that accurate).
Filled with page after page of "whoa, I didn't know that" and "I never thought of it that way" type stuff, the book is incredibly well researched and worth every minute of your time if you are at all interested in the nature of politics today and the history behind it. I can't recommend it highly enough for someone interested in history and/or current affairs.
I won't bother with the details (read the description at the link provided) unless the debate happens to kick up in the comment section (from any one of the four of you who still read this blog).
Update: The blog for the book and answers to some criticism of it can be found here.
Disgraceful
I'm not even sure where to begin with this one...
Let's suspend our belief in reality for just a minute and actually subscribe to the nonsense that is the debate on global warming. Does that make it ok to compare it to what can be regarded as one of the most heroic events of the 20th century by American service members?
Update: Hot Air, as usual, beat me to it for commenting on it.
Here's where it doesn't make sense to me: for the most part, the concern of global warming lies on the left side of the political aisle (correct me if I'm wrong). The same side which, by and large, is adamantly opposed to war of all kinds these days. Unless, as I'm seeing it now, it can be used for "propaganda" for their own cause.
Am I missing something?
Let's suspend our belief in reality for just a minute and actually subscribe to the nonsense that is the debate on global warming. Does that make it ok to compare it to what can be regarded as one of the most heroic events of the 20th century by American service members?
Update: Hot Air, as usual, beat me to it for commenting on it.
Here's where it doesn't make sense to me: for the most part, the concern of global warming lies on the left side of the political aisle (correct me if I'm wrong). The same side which, by and large, is adamantly opposed to war of all kinds these days. Unless, as I'm seeing it now, it can be used for "propaganda" for their own cause.
Am I missing something?
Getting Serious For Just a Minute
Recently I have been listening to the album The Warrior's Code by the Dropkick Murphys quite a bit, and today I happened to look at the lyrics to one of the songs. For the most part, I am not a lyrics guy; I won't even really pay attention to the words of a song until I've heard it a number of times. But a couple of their songs struck me as rather poignant, and this one in particular hit me hard after reading their description of it in the liner notes.
I thought about reprinting them here, but for certain reasons I decided just to provide the link. So follow that and click on the green tab to the right of the song "Last Letter Home" (it's the 13th track). Then read the reason behind the lyrics and song at the bottom. It's not the greatest song, but the words are pretty powerful for obvious reasons.
And, if you have time, do yourself a favor and read the lyrics to "Green Fields of France" while you are there. Them Irish know how to bring tears to your eyes, by golly.
I thought about reprinting them here, but for certain reasons I decided just to provide the link. So follow that and click on the green tab to the right of the song "Last Letter Home" (it's the 13th track). Then read the reason behind the lyrics and song at the bottom. It's not the greatest song, but the words are pretty powerful for obvious reasons.
And, if you have time, do yourself a favor and read the lyrics to "Green Fields of France" while you are there. Them Irish know how to bring tears to your eyes, by golly.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Alien vs Predator II (Aka the Culmination of My Being)
Do you have any idea of the full-fledged awesomeness that I am about to partake in? If you are like me, then of course you do, and are completely jealous of the fact that, at 9:06 a.m., I am sitting down to watch Alien vs. Predator: Requiem while still in my shorts and t-shirt (pants are way overrated). If, on the other hand, you are not like me and you have no idea what this movie is all about, I think that you should probably be banned. And no, I don't just mean from this blog; I'm talking about life and all of its pleasures, as well. Suck it up, loser. You just don't match up.
Ok, I just hit play, so this could get pretty wild real fast. Do your best to keep up, 'cause I'm not waiting for you. These plot lines are bound to be thick and twisted, so if you have a headache or something, it's probably best that you just sit this one out.
The movie starts where the last one left off, with the Predator guys in their spaceship and an Alien popping out of the chest of a Predator that died. It also appears that they have kept a lot of live "sample" aliens for future use. I'm sure that won't come back to haunt them. The ship crashes back to earth where a guy and his son are deer hunting in the woods. Oh they are gonners for sure. Yup, the dad just lost an arm from acid Alien blood. Dude, didn't you see the movie? That stuff burns!
Now we see the sleepy mountain town nearby... oh super, it's in Colorado. First Red Dawn and now this. And people think I'm silly for stockpiling all these weapons and Cheerios. Oh good, it looks like the local law enforcement found the wreckage of the space ship. They'll know how to handle it. They always do. Small town cops are known for their awesome skills in action movies. Whoops. False alarm. The sheriff only found a bum in a sewer. My bad, the lighting in this movie sucks.
But we are introduced to what appears to be the hero of the story. How do I know? 'Cause he's a geeky kid who delivers pizza and gets beat up by the popular jock. These kids always end up as heroes. And get the girl. Which makes....no sense, whatsoever. Back in the woods, the guy who was hunting with his kid just up-chucked an Alien out of his chest. Whoa, so did his kid. That's not going to be easy to explain to Mom. Back in town we now see a woman who is coming back from...war? She is in Marine digital desert cammo fatigues, sporting a US Army patch, an American flag on the wrong shoulder... and she has some night vision goggles in her bag that her daughter is rummaging through. I have five or six sets myself, because the Army (or Marines...whatever) never keeps track of sensitive items like those.
Well the Aliens just found the bum and Sheriff in the sewer. LUNCH! But never fear, it looks like more Predators are on the way. The chief boot-knocka of all Predators just landed and he doesn't look happy. He is gearing up for some serious action. He could seriously use a training montage right now. That always helps.
The geek-hero is now down in the sewer with his older brother. Why? Because that's where people go in action movies. Duh. Back to the woods with a huge search party for the guy and his kid. Whoa, the Predator just found the bodies and dissolved them with some blue liquid and offed one of the deputies who saw him do it. And....now the deputy is strung up from a tree. The messed up part here is that no one is saying "hey, these bodies are just like the ones in that movie Predator with Arnold Schwarzenegger. We should watch out for chameleon-like alien creatures." They act like they've never seen the movie, but who hasn't?
Super-Predator and Alien-Predator hybrid just battled it out in the sewer system. Of course it spilled out into the streets, as these things usually do. Too bad for the waitress at the local diner. I bet she was a slut, anyway. I'm not going as far as saying she deserved it, but she looked like a girl who would definitely cheat on her boyfriend and feel justified in doing so. Hooker.
Geek-hero and the girl are going swimming at the local pool. She's showing a lot of skin, so I wouldn't be surprised if Jason from Friday the 13th shows up any minute. Meanwhile, the Alien/Predator battle has spilled over to the energy plant and shut the power off for the whole town. They really needed to think of an alternative energy source, anyway. That thing was just a giant pollution factory leading to global warming. Greedy, corporate fat-cats getting rich off of the earth's demise. That's why Predator is here; retribution for our selfish destruction of mother earth.
The whole town is on alert now; running, screaming, crying. There may even be some dancing, I'm not sure. The geek-hero, his older brother and the hot chick found their way to the sporting goods store and are loading up. And now the National Guard have arrived in what could be described as the fastest response time ever, but their effectiveness was just about on par with Hillary Clinton's ability to relate to the common man. In other words, their all dead. Apparently they never saw Aliens. Alien-Predator hybrid has found its way the maternity ward of the hospital. Suffice to say that it ended poorly for...well, everyone. Unless prospective parents actually wanted to raise an alien who's blood would melt your skin and it would kill you and lay eggs in your chest. Everyone wants something different these days.
The hero group found where the National Guard showed its lackluster ability and, in a nice twist, took the armored vehicle they showed up in. Usually the main characters aren't smart enough to actually take useful equipment. Yet, they are insisting on finding a helicopter. Why? Take the Stryker and drive into the mountains. Or to Las Vegas. Man that town is hoppin'. Always something to do. But no, they go to the hospital, where the Hybrid has set up a breeding lab for its next generation. Its probably doing stem-cell research, too. Oh, the horror.
Wow! In one of the coolest friendly fire incidents ever, the hot chick got caught in the crossfire of a giant Predator throwing star and pinned to a wall. And the geek-hero took an alien tail through the back a minute later! I didn't see that coming at all. He's still alive, though. And the ever-menacing Army general, watching from an AWACS bird, is preparing to wipe out the town.
No. Friggin'. Way. The older brother just told the rest of the group to "get to the chopper!" If he covers himself in mud and makes a bow and arrow out of tree roots, I am going to wet myself. Predator has taken notes from Indiana Jones and is now using a whip to decapitate his adversaries. Sweet.
After a battle to the death between Boot Knocka and Hybrid-boy, the entire town is wiped out via Nuke strike, but our heroes got out with helicopter (which I am calling BS on because it was a Huey, and those things can't out-run a 4-year old on a tricycle, let alone a nuclear explosion). Only to be taken in by some Force Recon Marines, who I had no idea worked in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado. Shows what I know.
All in all, this was probably without a doubt the most complete movie I've seen in a long time. It really lacked for nothing: Guns? Check. Explosions? Check. Aliens using people as breeding machines? Double check. Hot chicks showing skin? I will say they could have made a lot better effort in this regard. I often got the feeling that they weren't even trying to throw in gratuitous nudity. That takes some serious credibility away from the movie itself, and drops at least one star from my rating. However, when considering a movie to put on while the rest of the world is at work and you are eating Fruit Loops in your pajamas, this ranks right near the top. Not the best in the series, but pretty darn good, none the less.
Stay tuned, as I think there is a new zombie movie out on DVD, as well.
Ok, I just hit play, so this could get pretty wild real fast. Do your best to keep up, 'cause I'm not waiting for you. These plot lines are bound to be thick and twisted, so if you have a headache or something, it's probably best that you just sit this one out.
The movie starts where the last one left off, with the Predator guys in their spaceship and an Alien popping out of the chest of a Predator that died. It also appears that they have kept a lot of live "sample" aliens for future use. I'm sure that won't come back to haunt them. The ship crashes back to earth where a guy and his son are deer hunting in the woods. Oh they are gonners for sure. Yup, the dad just lost an arm from acid Alien blood. Dude, didn't you see the movie? That stuff burns!
Now we see the sleepy mountain town nearby... oh super, it's in Colorado. First Red Dawn and now this. And people think I'm silly for stockpiling all these weapons and Cheerios. Oh good, it looks like the local law enforcement found the wreckage of the space ship. They'll know how to handle it. They always do. Small town cops are known for their awesome skills in action movies. Whoops. False alarm. The sheriff only found a bum in a sewer. My bad, the lighting in this movie sucks.
But we are introduced to what appears to be the hero of the story. How do I know? 'Cause he's a geeky kid who delivers pizza and gets beat up by the popular jock. These kids always end up as heroes. And get the girl. Which makes....no sense, whatsoever. Back in the woods, the guy who was hunting with his kid just up-chucked an Alien out of his chest. Whoa, so did his kid. That's not going to be easy to explain to Mom. Back in town we now see a woman who is coming back from...war? She is in Marine digital desert cammo fatigues, sporting a US Army patch, an American flag on the wrong shoulder... and she has some night vision goggles in her bag that her daughter is rummaging through. I have five or six sets myself, because the Army (or Marines...whatever) never keeps track of sensitive items like those.
Well the Aliens just found the bum and Sheriff in the sewer. LUNCH! But never fear, it looks like more Predators are on the way. The chief boot-knocka of all Predators just landed and he doesn't look happy. He is gearing up for some serious action. He could seriously use a training montage right now. That always helps.
The geek-hero is now down in the sewer with his older brother. Why? Because that's where people go in action movies. Duh. Back to the woods with a huge search party for the guy and his kid. Whoa, the Predator just found the bodies and dissolved them with some blue liquid and offed one of the deputies who saw him do it. And....now the deputy is strung up from a tree. The messed up part here is that no one is saying "hey, these bodies are just like the ones in that movie Predator with Arnold Schwarzenegger. We should watch out for chameleon-like alien creatures." They act like they've never seen the movie, but who hasn't?
Super-Predator and Alien-Predator hybrid just battled it out in the sewer system. Of course it spilled out into the streets, as these things usually do. Too bad for the waitress at the local diner. I bet she was a slut, anyway. I'm not going as far as saying she deserved it, but she looked like a girl who would definitely cheat on her boyfriend and feel justified in doing so. Hooker.
Geek-hero and the girl are going swimming at the local pool. She's showing a lot of skin, so I wouldn't be surprised if Jason from Friday the 13th shows up any minute. Meanwhile, the Alien/Predator battle has spilled over to the energy plant and shut the power off for the whole town. They really needed to think of an alternative energy source, anyway. That thing was just a giant pollution factory leading to global warming. Greedy, corporate fat-cats getting rich off of the earth's demise. That's why Predator is here; retribution for our selfish destruction of mother earth.
The whole town is on alert now; running, screaming, crying. There may even be some dancing, I'm not sure. The geek-hero, his older brother and the hot chick found their way to the sporting goods store and are loading up. And now the National Guard have arrived in what could be described as the fastest response time ever, but their effectiveness was just about on par with Hillary Clinton's ability to relate to the common man. In other words, their all dead. Apparently they never saw Aliens. Alien-Predator hybrid has found its way the maternity ward of the hospital. Suffice to say that it ended poorly for...well, everyone. Unless prospective parents actually wanted to raise an alien who's blood would melt your skin and it would kill you and lay eggs in your chest. Everyone wants something different these days.
The hero group found where the National Guard showed its lackluster ability and, in a nice twist, took the armored vehicle they showed up in. Usually the main characters aren't smart enough to actually take useful equipment. Yet, they are insisting on finding a helicopter. Why? Take the Stryker and drive into the mountains. Or to Las Vegas. Man that town is hoppin'. Always something to do. But no, they go to the hospital, where the Hybrid has set up a breeding lab for its next generation. Its probably doing stem-cell research, too. Oh, the horror.
Wow! In one of the coolest friendly fire incidents ever, the hot chick got caught in the crossfire of a giant Predator throwing star and pinned to a wall. And the geek-hero took an alien tail through the back a minute later! I didn't see that coming at all. He's still alive, though. And the ever-menacing Army general, watching from an AWACS bird, is preparing to wipe out the town.
No. Friggin'. Way. The older brother just told the rest of the group to "get to the chopper!" If he covers himself in mud and makes a bow and arrow out of tree roots, I am going to wet myself. Predator has taken notes from Indiana Jones and is now using a whip to decapitate his adversaries. Sweet.
After a battle to the death between Boot Knocka and Hybrid-boy, the entire town is wiped out via Nuke strike, but our heroes got out with helicopter (which I am calling BS on because it was a Huey, and those things can't out-run a 4-year old on a tricycle, let alone a nuclear explosion). Only to be taken in by some Force Recon Marines, who I had no idea worked in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado. Shows what I know.
All in all, this was probably without a doubt the most complete movie I've seen in a long time. It really lacked for nothing: Guns? Check. Explosions? Check. Aliens using people as breeding machines? Double check. Hot chicks showing skin? I will say they could have made a lot better effort in this regard. I often got the feeling that they weren't even trying to throw in gratuitous nudity. That takes some serious credibility away from the movie itself, and drops at least one star from my rating. However, when considering a movie to put on while the rest of the world is at work and you are eating Fruit Loops in your pajamas, this ranks right near the top. Not the best in the series, but pretty darn good, none the less.
Stay tuned, as I think there is a new zombie movie out on DVD, as well.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Star Wars (Unleash The Fury)
I may have covered this subject before, but who cares. I'm bored, and after seeing a couple of the original and newer Star Wars episodes this week on Spike TV, I felt I needed to get some things off my chest. Namely, that I have come to the conclusion that, although the Star Wars films are a big part of my childhood -- and still hold a certain place of nostalgic value in my heart -- they are, for the most part, really crappy movies.
Yup, I said it. Bring on the nerd assault; I'm ready for it.
For starters, let's look at the first film which bore the title: A New Hope (which isn't the first, of course, because the ever-wise Mr. Lucas doesn't understand the concept of "chronological order," but more on that later). As we all remember, the movie begins with space ships and laser blasts and a menacing Darth Vader capturing a less-crazy Carrie Fischer (she hadn't married Paul Simon yet). This sticks out in a lot of peoples' minds because, at the time, nothing like it had ever been witnessed. So far, so good.
But then the focus shifts to the hero and focal point of the story: Luke Skywalker (played by Mark Hammil who is, by the way, stumping for Barrack Obama, saying that he is the greatest person he has ever had the opportunity to vote for. Yowza). At this point the story begins to completely fall apart. How do I figure that, only ten minutes in to the first picture? This is where George Lucas actually is a genius; if looking at each individual movie, they work out ok. But when you factor in the entire story, it's pure crap. Look, if Obi-Wan took Luke to the planet of Tattooine in the first place, a) why did he hide them with DARTH VADER'S RELATIVES, and b) don't you think that maybe, just maybe, Obi-Wan could have been hooking him up with some cool Jedi skills while he grew up? Especially considering that he knew he would eventually take him to Yoda, who would talk some crap about how Luke is "too young to begin the training." Well gee, it's not like you didn't have control of this kid from the time he was an infant. I know, instead of keeping a close eye on someone who could very well have more power than anyone in the universe, let's foster him out to some people in the desert and we can just hope he doesn't get molested and end up in some weird cult practicing polygamy and farming out sex-droids.
But see, we forget all of that because "Oooh, look at the pretty colors and big explosions!" Yeah well, I didn't forget, dang nabbit!
As the story progresses, we meet Han Solo who, as Peter Griffin says "is the only actor who's career is not completely ruined by these movies." Han pretty much saves the movie, which is odd considering Luke is supposed to be the hero. But never mind that, go back to the story: Luke, after meeting Obi-Wan at what appears to be the age of 16-18 (way to keep close contact with the wonder-boy through his most formative years, Obi-Wan). Suddenly realizes he has to be a Jedi and do Jedi stuff. Obi-Wan proceeds to give Luke what equates to about a 10-minute block of instruction on light-saber laser-blocking before they end up on the Death Star and Obi-Wan sacrifices himself for...whatever reason. One that has never really become all that clear, even after six movies. Yeah, he says that he is "stronger" dead than alive, but whatever. I sure never saw him doing any training with Luke after he died. He just showed up as an apparition a time or two, spouting crap like "use the force." Thanks a lot, old man. If you had actually lived long enough to teach me what in the hell "the Force" actually is, that might be useful. Maybe.
Which leads me to something that has always bugged me; that Luke is a complete ninny. Again, if looking at the story as a whole, we see his father, Anakin, at his age kicking some major butt (and scoring with the ridiculously hot Natalie Portman, I might add. Which brings up another question: how many women did you see Luke with over the course of three movies? Hmmm...). But, like I said before, this could have been avoided had they actually shown some interest in the boy beyond that of a recovering alcoholic, dead-bet dad who shows up when the kid is fully grown and says "gimme a hug!" Let's just say that Luke, in today's society, would be on any sane person's watch list for possible assailants in future school-shootings.
And this brings me to my next point: That George Lucas was completely flying by the seat of his pants in creating this story. There are too many holes to think otherwise. There's no way you would have two people making out in one movie and then "surprise, you're brother and sister" in the next. Unless you are from Kentucky. Or have some serious mommy-issues. Whichever, the guy is a goof. If he had it all planned out, then why didn't Luke get trained as a boy? Why did he make out with his sister? Why wouldn't they change his name from "Skywalker"? Good job hiding him, guys. Put him with Darth Vader's in-laws and have him keep the name. Let's see, you have the ability to travel at/beyond light-speed across the universe, but you chose to "hide" Luke on the planet his now-evil father grew up on. Wow. And Jedis are supposed to be wise. Gotcha.
And what was it, exactly, that made the Empire so bad? This is yet another gaping hole in Lucas' story telling. We never have any concrete explanation of why the Empire is bad and the Rebellion is good. Even after the newer movies came out, trying to tell the back story, it never made any real sense. Maybe the Rebellion were actually terrorists? Perhaps the Empire was just trying to stop an insurgency running wild? We hear some nonsense about "trade federations" in the back story, but isn't that a good thing? Intergalactic trading would be necessary to keep up your economy, especially with the drain of illegal aliens on your Medicare program, would it not? Whatever the cause, it proves that Lucas made it all up well after making the originals; the first three movies give no indication as to why these two groups are fighting, only that one is decidedly "bad" and the other "good." I could go into a whole host of stereotypes that the films use to pull this off, basically insulting the intelligence of every audience member, but that would take too long. And it would be boring. And I seriously doubt anyone is even still reading at this point...
Beyond all of that, my notes kinda trickle into a cursing tirade about how Lord of the Rings is better and how Natalie Portman doesn't return the letters I sent her with my toe-nail clippings. Really not much else to say, because everyone knows that there was never anything really deep or innovative about these stories, and that Jar-Jar Binks was Lucas's way of coming out of the closet. They were basically vehicles for revolutionary special effects, using simplistic plot lines and wickedly-bad acting that happened to come at a time in people of my generation's formative years that forever rendered them to a nostalgic place in our memories because they were so different.
Compare that to the series of movies containing the word "Predator" in the title. If you want to see in-depth story telling at its best, then look no further than that, my friends. Alien Vs. Predator part 2 comes out on DVD tomorrow, so don't even bother calling me. I won't answer. I will be engrossed.
Yup, I said it. Bring on the nerd assault; I'm ready for it.
For starters, let's look at the first film which bore the title: A New Hope (which isn't the first, of course, because the ever-wise Mr. Lucas doesn't understand the concept of "chronological order," but more on that later). As we all remember, the movie begins with space ships and laser blasts and a menacing Darth Vader capturing a less-crazy Carrie Fischer (she hadn't married Paul Simon yet). This sticks out in a lot of peoples' minds because, at the time, nothing like it had ever been witnessed. So far, so good.
But then the focus shifts to the hero and focal point of the story: Luke Skywalker (played by Mark Hammil who is, by the way, stumping for Barrack Obama, saying that he is the greatest person he has ever had the opportunity to vote for. Yowza). At this point the story begins to completely fall apart. How do I figure that, only ten minutes in to the first picture? This is where George Lucas actually is a genius; if looking at each individual movie, they work out ok. But when you factor in the entire story, it's pure crap. Look, if Obi-Wan took Luke to the planet of Tattooine in the first place, a) why did he hide them with DARTH VADER'S RELATIVES, and b) don't you think that maybe, just maybe, Obi-Wan could have been hooking him up with some cool Jedi skills while he grew up? Especially considering that he knew he would eventually take him to Yoda, who would talk some crap about how Luke is "too young to begin the training." Well gee, it's not like you didn't have control of this kid from the time he was an infant. I know, instead of keeping a close eye on someone who could very well have more power than anyone in the universe, let's foster him out to some people in the desert and we can just hope he doesn't get molested and end up in some weird cult practicing polygamy and farming out sex-droids.
But see, we forget all of that because "Oooh, look at the pretty colors and big explosions!" Yeah well, I didn't forget, dang nabbit!
As the story progresses, we meet Han Solo who, as Peter Griffin says "is the only actor who's career is not completely ruined by these movies." Han pretty much saves the movie, which is odd considering Luke is supposed to be the hero. But never mind that, go back to the story: Luke, after meeting Obi-Wan at what appears to be the age of 16-18 (way to keep close contact with the wonder-boy through his most formative years, Obi-Wan). Suddenly realizes he has to be a Jedi and do Jedi stuff. Obi-Wan proceeds to give Luke what equates to about a 10-minute block of instruction on light-saber laser-blocking before they end up on the Death Star and Obi-Wan sacrifices himself for...whatever reason. One that has never really become all that clear, even after six movies. Yeah, he says that he is "stronger" dead than alive, but whatever. I sure never saw him doing any training with Luke after he died. He just showed up as an apparition a time or two, spouting crap like "use the force." Thanks a lot, old man. If you had actually lived long enough to teach me what in the hell "the Force" actually is, that might be useful. Maybe.
Which leads me to something that has always bugged me; that Luke is a complete ninny. Again, if looking at the story as a whole, we see his father, Anakin, at his age kicking some major butt (and scoring with the ridiculously hot Natalie Portman, I might add. Which brings up another question: how many women did you see Luke with over the course of three movies? Hmmm...). But, like I said before, this could have been avoided had they actually shown some interest in the boy beyond that of a recovering alcoholic, dead-bet dad who shows up when the kid is fully grown and says "gimme a hug!" Let's just say that Luke, in today's society, would be on any sane person's watch list for possible assailants in future school-shootings.
And this brings me to my next point: That George Lucas was completely flying by the seat of his pants in creating this story. There are too many holes to think otherwise. There's no way you would have two people making out in one movie and then "surprise, you're brother and sister" in the next. Unless you are from Kentucky. Or have some serious mommy-issues. Whichever, the guy is a goof. If he had it all planned out, then why didn't Luke get trained as a boy? Why did he make out with his sister? Why wouldn't they change his name from "Skywalker"? Good job hiding him, guys. Put him with Darth Vader's in-laws and have him keep the name. Let's see, you have the ability to travel at/beyond light-speed across the universe, but you chose to "hide" Luke on the planet his now-evil father grew up on. Wow. And Jedis are supposed to be wise. Gotcha.
And what was it, exactly, that made the Empire so bad? This is yet another gaping hole in Lucas' story telling. We never have any concrete explanation of why the Empire is bad and the Rebellion is good. Even after the newer movies came out, trying to tell the back story, it never made any real sense. Maybe the Rebellion were actually terrorists? Perhaps the Empire was just trying to stop an insurgency running wild? We hear some nonsense about "trade federations" in the back story, but isn't that a good thing? Intergalactic trading would be necessary to keep up your economy, especially with the drain of illegal aliens on your Medicare program, would it not? Whatever the cause, it proves that Lucas made it all up well after making the originals; the first three movies give no indication as to why these two groups are fighting, only that one is decidedly "bad" and the other "good." I could go into a whole host of stereotypes that the films use to pull this off, basically insulting the intelligence of every audience member, but that would take too long. And it would be boring. And I seriously doubt anyone is even still reading at this point...
Beyond all of that, my notes kinda trickle into a cursing tirade about how Lord of the Rings is better and how Natalie Portman doesn't return the letters I sent her with my toe-nail clippings. Really not much else to say, because everyone knows that there was never anything really deep or innovative about these stories, and that Jar-Jar Binks was Lucas's way of coming out of the closet. They were basically vehicles for revolutionary special effects, using simplistic plot lines and wickedly-bad acting that happened to come at a time in people of my generation's formative years that forever rendered them to a nostalgic place in our memories because they were so different.
Compare that to the series of movies containing the word "Predator" in the title. If you want to see in-depth story telling at its best, then look no further than that, my friends. Alien Vs. Predator part 2 comes out on DVD tomorrow, so don't even bother calling me. I won't answer. I will be engrossed.
Remember in X Men...
...when they started off the story by telling how sometimes in human evolution there are "great leaps" forward? Yet, when you watch the movie and see some of these mutants, you think "hey, that kinda sucks as far as a "great leap" for that kid." I mean, you have mutants that can walk through walls, mutants that can fly, and then you have some goofy kid that his only power is that he can write...without a pen. Super. "Hey buddy, I know we never take you on cool missions, but that is because it is soooooo important that you stay behind and take....notes. On stuff. Yeah."
Now we have a case of art imitating life (I guess) with, ready for it.... Tree Man! I have to be honest, I'm not even sure where to begin. I mean, talk about getting the shaft on evolutionary "leaps forward." What the heck is he supposed to do with that? What super-villain will he be able to thwart with roots for feet and hands? Unless someone made up of pure carbon dioxide tries to conquer the world, I'm thinking this guy isn't really going to be much help. Just sayin'.
In all seriousness, how suck-tastic would that be, anyway? Wow. Just...wow.
Now we have a case of art imitating life (I guess) with, ready for it.... Tree Man! I have to be honest, I'm not even sure where to begin. I mean, talk about getting the shaft on evolutionary "leaps forward." What the heck is he supposed to do with that? What super-villain will he be able to thwart with roots for feet and hands? Unless someone made up of pure carbon dioxide tries to conquer the world, I'm thinking this guy isn't really going to be much help. Just sayin'.
In all seriousness, how suck-tastic would that be, anyway? Wow. Just...wow.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Wanna Hear A Funny Story?
For those of you who have read this blog for a while, my involvement with -- as well as distaste for -- the U.S. Army is not news. Recent developments, however, may be.
Due mostly to the fact that I should have my head examined by professionals, I am back in the big green machine. But this time it is under the banner of the auspicious Army Reserves. Which, as I am becoming aware, is not really the Army, but not really...anything else, either. It's a land where everyone involved has a "real" job, yet they still go off to war. Regularly.
To be quite honest, my involvement is multi-faceted: For starters, I still had one year and nine months left in what is called the Individual Ready Reserves. That meant that I could be called up at any time to do any job for the needs of the Army. Not cool, especially considering a good friend of ours got pulled under this same action to do who knows what. This means the Army could turn me into a cook or a truck driver or...whatever. Maybe even an Infantryman. Yikes. That's scary. Oh wait...
At any rate, this was a major concern of mine. One of the major reasons I joined the Army instead of another branch was because I had more control over my own destiny (and because of those snazzy berets. Touche!). With the IRR, that control was completely taken from me.
This left me with a dilemma: I could rejoin the regular Army and go back to my old job of jumping out of planes and carrying a lot of weight on my back for a really long distance (I think I just threw up a little, in my mouth), or find a new way of applying myself for Uncle Sam. After doing some searching and a lot of talking with guys who have been around for a while and experienced different parts of the military, I settled on Psychological Operations. Not a very well-understood end of the Army, PsyOp is conjoined with Civil Affairs as their own command in the Army Reserve, as the vast majority of their personnel are made up of weekend warriors. Essentially their job centers around morale; both of our own troops and of the enemy. This could mean blasting some Pantera from a helicopter while the good guys kick in some doors or playing some anti-hajji propaganda from a loudspeaker to convince the bad guys that they are losing. Badly. So give up, already. Losers.
After speaking with the First Sergeant of the unit (never go through recruiters, go directly to the source), this seemed like a pretty decent opportunity. I will get some good training out of it and even some employment (not having a job rocks, but the bank doesn't like it nearly as much when the monthly payment for the SUV that I just *had* to have is due). Once I go to the school to qualify as an actual PsyOp guy, then a few doors to other training opportunities will open. Namely, the chance to be a tuba player. Which is, after all, a lifelong dream of mine.
I have already done my first drill with the unit (that ought to be its own post, really) as well as a 3-day Combat Life Saver class (battlefield trauma medicine -- i.e. shoot back, stop the bleeding, and get the %&$! out of there). It is a different place than what I was used to on active duty, to be sure. For instance, I have never seen a meeting take place where a Major -- commander of the unit, mind you -- asks a lowly E-5 what he thinks the unit should do for training next month. Also of note should be that this same E-5 didn't even have a uniform at this time, and was sporting his latest REI shirt and pants rather than the ACUs that everyone else was wearing. You want to know my opinion, sir? Oh heck yeah, I like where this is going. Do we have access to any gunships? Predator drones? Supermodels? Yeah well, it didn't hurt to ask, right?
Things run a might different here in Reserve land, but... to be honest, that suits me just fine right now. I'm sure that at some point I will say "man, I sure wish I was wearing an 80 lbs ruck sack and walking 20 miles right now" but I sure ain't saying it now. And this whole "sleep in every day except for one weekend a month" thing isn't too bad, either. I'm guessing that when I leave for training in a month that I won't have that, but that means I will be learning the crafty art of PsyOp. And there's no way the Army can make that boring, right? RIGHT?!?!!
So, in the next few months (about 19 of them, to be exact), there should be a lot more material on here for you to get a chuckle out of. I do have somewhat of a renewed desire to write, so who knows what may happen next.
Due mostly to the fact that I should have my head examined by professionals, I am back in the big green machine. But this time it is under the banner of the auspicious Army Reserves. Which, as I am becoming aware, is not really the Army, but not really...anything else, either. It's a land where everyone involved has a "real" job, yet they still go off to war. Regularly.
To be quite honest, my involvement is multi-faceted: For starters, I still had one year and nine months left in what is called the Individual Ready Reserves. That meant that I could be called up at any time to do any job for the needs of the Army. Not cool, especially considering a good friend of ours got pulled under this same action to do who knows what. This means the Army could turn me into a cook or a truck driver or...whatever. Maybe even an Infantryman. Yikes. That's scary. Oh wait...
At any rate, this was a major concern of mine. One of the major reasons I joined the Army instead of another branch was because I had more control over my own destiny (and because of those snazzy berets. Touche!). With the IRR, that control was completely taken from me.
This left me with a dilemma: I could rejoin the regular Army and go back to my old job of jumping out of planes and carrying a lot of weight on my back for a really long distance (I think I just threw up a little, in my mouth), or find a new way of applying myself for Uncle Sam. After doing some searching and a lot of talking with guys who have been around for a while and experienced different parts of the military, I settled on Psychological Operations. Not a very well-understood end of the Army, PsyOp is conjoined with Civil Affairs as their own command in the Army Reserve, as the vast majority of their personnel are made up of weekend warriors. Essentially their job centers around morale; both of our own troops and of the enemy. This could mean blasting some Pantera from a helicopter while the good guys kick in some doors or playing some anti-hajji propaganda from a loudspeaker to convince the bad guys that they are losing. Badly. So give up, already. Losers.
After speaking with the First Sergeant of the unit (never go through recruiters, go directly to the source), this seemed like a pretty decent opportunity. I will get some good training out of it and even some employment (not having a job rocks, but the bank doesn't like it nearly as much when the monthly payment for the SUV that I just *had* to have is due). Once I go to the school to qualify as an actual PsyOp guy, then a few doors to other training opportunities will open. Namely, the chance to be a tuba player. Which is, after all, a lifelong dream of mine.
I have already done my first drill with the unit (that ought to be its own post, really) as well as a 3-day Combat Life Saver class (battlefield trauma medicine -- i.e. shoot back, stop the bleeding, and get the %&$! out of there). It is a different place than what I was used to on active duty, to be sure. For instance, I have never seen a meeting take place where a Major -- commander of the unit, mind you -- asks a lowly E-5 what he thinks the unit should do for training next month. Also of note should be that this same E-5 didn't even have a uniform at this time, and was sporting his latest REI shirt and pants rather than the ACUs that everyone else was wearing. You want to know my opinion, sir? Oh heck yeah, I like where this is going. Do we have access to any gunships? Predator drones? Supermodels? Yeah well, it didn't hurt to ask, right?
Things run a might different here in Reserve land, but... to be honest, that suits me just fine right now. I'm sure that at some point I will say "man, I sure wish I was wearing an 80 lbs ruck sack and walking 20 miles right now" but I sure ain't saying it now. And this whole "sleep in every day except for one weekend a month" thing isn't too bad, either. I'm guessing that when I leave for training in a month that I won't have that, but that means I will be learning the crafty art of PsyOp. And there's no way the Army can make that boring, right? RIGHT?!?!!
So, in the next few months (about 19 of them, to be exact), there should be a lot more material on here for you to get a chuckle out of. I do have somewhat of a renewed desire to write, so who knows what may happen next.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
All You Need To Know About The Presidential Race
In these topsy-turvy times, it is tough to know where politics are headed, and whom shall be at the helm. That is why I am here; to offer up my vast insight into the presidential race and what each candidate can offer, why they offer it, whether or not it's realistic, and of course, can they pull it off. Oh, and also if they are gay.
So, let's take a look at who we have (for sake of balance, we'll keep the order completely random, thereby confusing the hell out of everyone reading).
Rudy Giuliani:
What's his deal? Something about being mayor of a big city out east during a catastrophe. I think he was a lawyer for the mob, too.
Can he win? Well, dropping out of the race certainly doesn't appear to have helped his chances, so we'll see how that strategy plays out for him.
Why he won't win: Historians will argue for years over the reasons why, but I assure you, look no further than that goofy lisp thing he has when he talks. That's just....weird.
John Edwards:
What's his deal? Beautiful hair, smooth skin, and a smile that could make any HMO concede defeat.
Can he win? Another case of using the bold, strategic move of dropping out before it's finished, Edwards has really gambled on this one. My guess is that he is using the classic "hard to get" move I perfected with my numerous love conquests. Always leave them wanting more.
Why he won't win: Simply put, he has too much leadership experience and it intimidates the hell out of people.
Fred Thompson:
What's his deal? Tallest of all the candidates, his physical presence and southern drawl make the ladies swoon. Plus his wife is the hottest of all the candidates' wives (including Hillary's).
Can he win? While choosing not to campaign may have a negative impact on his hopes, I believe that his work at controlling a terrorist situation from the tower in Die Hard 2 speaks for itself. Calm under pressure, thy name is Fred.
Why he won't win: Die Hard 2 was clearly the worst out of all four movies, and I felt basically robbed after seeing it.
Mike Huckaboob:
What's his deal? I don't know, but if you don't believe it, he will throw you into a pit of fire.
Can he win? Chuck Norris says he can, and apparently Chuck's tears cure cancer, so that's one heck of an endorsement.
Why he won't win: Declining popularity and a striking similarity to that pastor who got caught with the male hooker aside, his real downfall will be the Jews.
Barrack Obama:
What's his deal? Change! Hope! Dreams! Dreams about hope and change!! And Oprah!
Can he win? Not only believing in hope, but dreaming of it, and knowing that it can change the future, will enable us to hope and dream about what can be, what will be, and what should be. This change, which we have all hoped and dreamed of for so long, should be ours, not just for our sake, but also for the sake of our children. Dream it. Hope for it. Change it.
Why he won't win: If you find any substance in the above paragraph whatsoever, then explaining any further will be quite pointless. Racist.
Mitt Romney:
What's his deal? Mormon. Cult leader. Found golden tablets under a rock and moved his people to Salt Lake City where they could marry their sisters and no one would get mad.
Can he win? We all, secretly, want to elect Ward Cleaver as the leader of the free world.
Why he won't win: Regardless of impeccable morals, marrying one's sister seems to leave a bad taste in quite a few people's mouth. Who knew?
Hillary Clinton:
What's his deal? Hillary brings the most real-world experience to the table, as well as the most testosterone next to Fred Thompson.
Can he win? Could George Patton's wife won the Battle of the Bulge? Could Sherman's mistress have beaten the Confederates at Vicksburg? If you say no, you're a sexist bastard and you should be ashamed of yourself.
Why he won't win: Strong on nearly every issue, the only downfall of this "super-candidate" will be their undying loyalty to their values; holding strong to what they believe no matter what the media says. When it could possibly help to be strategic and play the political game, Hillary's undoing will come from following the path of truth, regardless of the outcome.
John McCain:
What's his deal? He hates gooks.
Can he win? Apparently Rambo thinks he can. I saw the new Rambo this week and, I have to tell you, that was the bloodiest movie I've ever seen. I mean they kill everybody. Women, children, pigs... Rambo then goes on a tear. He didn't want to, but dammit if they didn't pull him into it. And well, he is a killer. It's in his veins. It's what he was trained to do. They drew first blood, not him. He didn't ask for that war, they asked him. Then he goes back to his home in, wait a minute... Arizona! That's McCain's state! Man, this is tying in nicely.
Why he won't win: Ever seen one of your grandparents fly in to a spitting rage about how ignorant young people are? Now imagine four years of that.
Ron Paul:
What's his deal? Pure, un-diluted genius.
Can he win? Without question, Paul lays claim to the most stable, well educated, articulate supporters on the campaign trail. They will pick apart anyone who stands in his way with thought provoking, well planned arguments.
Why he will win: Google "Ron Paul debate" and be prepared to be humbled.
Well, there you have it for now. I will try to keep you updated as changes occur. Why, I'm not really sure. Spare 22 minutes of your time to watch this and tell me this isn't what we're facing.
So, let's take a look at who we have (for sake of balance, we'll keep the order completely random, thereby confusing the hell out of everyone reading).
Rudy Giuliani:
What's his deal? Something about being mayor of a big city out east during a catastrophe. I think he was a lawyer for the mob, too.
Can he win? Well, dropping out of the race certainly doesn't appear to have helped his chances, so we'll see how that strategy plays out for him.
Why he won't win: Historians will argue for years over the reasons why, but I assure you, look no further than that goofy lisp thing he has when he talks. That's just....weird.
John Edwards:
What's his deal? Beautiful hair, smooth skin, and a smile that could make any HMO concede defeat.
Can he win? Another case of using the bold, strategic move of dropping out before it's finished, Edwards has really gambled on this one. My guess is that he is using the classic "hard to get" move I perfected with my numerous love conquests. Always leave them wanting more.
Why he won't win: Simply put, he has too much leadership experience and it intimidates the hell out of people.
Fred Thompson:
What's his deal? Tallest of all the candidates, his physical presence and southern drawl make the ladies swoon. Plus his wife is the hottest of all the candidates' wives (including Hillary's).
Can he win? While choosing not to campaign may have a negative impact on his hopes, I believe that his work at controlling a terrorist situation from the tower in Die Hard 2 speaks for itself. Calm under pressure, thy name is Fred.
Why he won't win: Die Hard 2 was clearly the worst out of all four movies, and I felt basically robbed after seeing it.
Mike Huckaboob:
What's his deal? I don't know, but if you don't believe it, he will throw you into a pit of fire.
Can he win? Chuck Norris says he can, and apparently Chuck's tears cure cancer, so that's one heck of an endorsement.
Why he won't win: Declining popularity and a striking similarity to that pastor who got caught with the male hooker aside, his real downfall will be the Jews.
Barrack Obama:
What's his deal? Change! Hope! Dreams! Dreams about hope and change!! And Oprah!
Can he win? Not only believing in hope, but dreaming of it, and knowing that it can change the future, will enable us to hope and dream about what can be, what will be, and what should be. This change, which we have all hoped and dreamed of for so long, should be ours, not just for our sake, but also for the sake of our children. Dream it. Hope for it. Change it.
Why he won't win: If you find any substance in the above paragraph whatsoever, then explaining any further will be quite pointless. Racist.
Mitt Romney:
What's his deal? Mormon. Cult leader. Found golden tablets under a rock and moved his people to Salt Lake City where they could marry their sisters and no one would get mad.
Can he win? We all, secretly, want to elect Ward Cleaver as the leader of the free world.
Why he won't win: Regardless of impeccable morals, marrying one's sister seems to leave a bad taste in quite a few people's mouth. Who knew?
Hillary Clinton:
What's his deal? Hillary brings the most real-world experience to the table, as well as the most testosterone next to Fred Thompson.
Can he win? Could George Patton's wife won the Battle of the Bulge? Could Sherman's mistress have beaten the Confederates at Vicksburg? If you say no, you're a sexist bastard and you should be ashamed of yourself.
Why he won't win: Strong on nearly every issue, the only downfall of this "super-candidate" will be their undying loyalty to their values; holding strong to what they believe no matter what the media says. When it could possibly help to be strategic and play the political game, Hillary's undoing will come from following the path of truth, regardless of the outcome.
John McCain:
What's his deal? He hates gooks.
Can he win? Apparently Rambo thinks he can. I saw the new Rambo this week and, I have to tell you, that was the bloodiest movie I've ever seen. I mean they kill everybody. Women, children, pigs... Rambo then goes on a tear. He didn't want to, but dammit if they didn't pull him into it. And well, he is a killer. It's in his veins. It's what he was trained to do. They drew first blood, not him. He didn't ask for that war, they asked him. Then he goes back to his home in, wait a minute... Arizona! That's McCain's state! Man, this is tying in nicely.
Why he won't win: Ever seen one of your grandparents fly in to a spitting rage about how ignorant young people are? Now imagine four years of that.
Ron Paul:
What's his deal? Pure, un-diluted genius.
Can he win? Without question, Paul lays claim to the most stable, well educated, articulate supporters on the campaign trail. They will pick apart anyone who stands in his way with thought provoking, well planned arguments.
Why he will win: Google "Ron Paul debate" and be prepared to be humbled.
Well, there you have it for now. I will try to keep you updated as changes occur. Why, I'm not really sure. Spare 22 minutes of your time to watch this and tell me this isn't what we're facing.
Sunday, December 02, 2007
Fightin' Stuff
Everyone has heard the phrase "it's not what you know, but who you know." The older I get, the more true this is, as I realize that most of the cool things that come about in life happen not because of my own knowledge, but because of friends and who those friends know and so on. This weekend was just such an occasion.
About a week ago I realized I hadn't talked to my buddy Henning in a while, so I decided to get in touch with him and see what he was up to. Good timing on my part. He told me that his good friends Mark and Lisa Twight were coming to town to support an MMA fighter that Lisa had been training. Mark is a former professional alpine climber who I had been hearing about for years through a mutual friend, and now he and his wife are the brains behind Gym Jones. The genius of which can be seen here and here, for starters.
Through a strange connection to the movie 300, Lisa came to be the conditioning coach for Rob MacDonald (UFC fighter and cast member of the reality show TUF 2). Rob came down to Colorado from his native Toronto to fight in the Ring of Fire cage mach held in Broomfield, for the light heavyweight title held by Elliot Marshall. Through an even more round-a-bout connection, I came to be sitting at Rob MacDonald's VIP table for the fight.
What a blast. Rob is a tremendously nice guy who was nothing but generous the entire time. As he was the main event of the night, his was the last fight. He sat and talked with us up until one fight left before his own while I sat and thought "isn't this guy fighting tonight?" Then he just said, "well, I guess it's smashin' time," and headed for the locker room. I figured he was either really, really confident and in "the zone" already, or he was completely unprepared. Lucky for us -- and especially him -- it was the former.
I'm not really sure if Eliot Marshall was looking at Rob as a stepping stone to get to the UFC, or if he was just completely overwhelmed in the fight, or both. At any rate, it truly was "smashin' time" for Rob, as he laid the beat down on his opponent. After numerous slams to the canvas, and a number of blows to the face, the ref stopped the fight shortly into the second round. As Eliot was the hometown boy, our table was the only group in the whole arena cheering. I think most people were stunned at the one-sided victory, including "team silicone" sitting behind us. I'm not sure they even knew who was who anyway, to be honest.
This is in no way a slam against Eliot Marshall, as he showed nothing but pure class in his loss, even coming to the press conference after the fight. His camp seemed very professional, and hopefully I will have an opportunity to train with them, seeing as how they are here in town.
But to the victor go the spoils, as they say, and it was truly awesome to be apart of something like that. Even though I had absolutely nothing to do with it, I somehow ended up in the octagon when the fight was over, whooping it up with everyone else. I was given one of the cameras for the fight to take pictures, but I have a feeling that most of them turned out pretty blurry as it is apparently really difficult to cheer and photograph at the same time. Luckily, a professional had it covered, and her pics can be viewed here (I especially like this one. I'm such a ham).
In the end, I am grateful to Rob and his camp for letting be a part of this event. Though I may never be a champion of any kind myself, it is quite an inspiration to see people who dedicate themselves wholly and completely to something that takes so much effort and sacrifice to even compete, let alone win. These are lessons we can all apply to our lives in many regards, and my training intensity will certainly raise to a new level thanks to what I witnessed that night (plus I now have an invite to train at Gym Jones, which I am more than just a little excited about).
And one final note, I would especially like to thank Rob for his sense of humor; while most guys are coming in the arena to songs by 50 Cent and the like, the good man Maximus had the foresight to play "You're the Best," the theme song to the Karate Kid. Which, as everyone who is anyone knows, won an Oscar for the best movie ever made. Ever. Plus it's stuck in my head now, so I've got that going for me.
About a week ago I realized I hadn't talked to my buddy Henning in a while, so I decided to get in touch with him and see what he was up to. Good timing on my part. He told me that his good friends Mark and Lisa Twight were coming to town to support an MMA fighter that Lisa had been training. Mark is a former professional alpine climber who I had been hearing about for years through a mutual friend, and now he and his wife are the brains behind Gym Jones. The genius of which can be seen here and here, for starters.
Through a strange connection to the movie 300, Lisa came to be the conditioning coach for Rob MacDonald (UFC fighter and cast member of the reality show TUF 2). Rob came down to Colorado from his native Toronto to fight in the Ring of Fire cage mach held in Broomfield, for the light heavyweight title held by Elliot Marshall. Through an even more round-a-bout connection, I came to be sitting at Rob MacDonald's VIP table for the fight.
What a blast. Rob is a tremendously nice guy who was nothing but generous the entire time. As he was the main event of the night, his was the last fight. He sat and talked with us up until one fight left before his own while I sat and thought "isn't this guy fighting tonight?" Then he just said, "well, I guess it's smashin' time," and headed for the locker room. I figured he was either really, really confident and in "the zone" already, or he was completely unprepared. Lucky for us -- and especially him -- it was the former.
I'm not really sure if Eliot Marshall was looking at Rob as a stepping stone to get to the UFC, or if he was just completely overwhelmed in the fight, or both. At any rate, it truly was "smashin' time" for Rob, as he laid the beat down on his opponent. After numerous slams to the canvas, and a number of blows to the face, the ref stopped the fight shortly into the second round. As Eliot was the hometown boy, our table was the only group in the whole arena cheering. I think most people were stunned at the one-sided victory, including "team silicone" sitting behind us. I'm not sure they even knew who was who anyway, to be honest.
This is in no way a slam against Eliot Marshall, as he showed nothing but pure class in his loss, even coming to the press conference after the fight. His camp seemed very professional, and hopefully I will have an opportunity to train with them, seeing as how they are here in town.
But to the victor go the spoils, as they say, and it was truly awesome to be apart of something like that. Even though I had absolutely nothing to do with it, I somehow ended up in the octagon when the fight was over, whooping it up with everyone else. I was given one of the cameras for the fight to take pictures, but I have a feeling that most of them turned out pretty blurry as it is apparently really difficult to cheer and photograph at the same time. Luckily, a professional had it covered, and her pics can be viewed here (I especially like this one. I'm such a ham).
In the end, I am grateful to Rob and his camp for letting be a part of this event. Though I may never be a champion of any kind myself, it is quite an inspiration to see people who dedicate themselves wholly and completely to something that takes so much effort and sacrifice to even compete, let alone win. These are lessons we can all apply to our lives in many regards, and my training intensity will certainly raise to a new level thanks to what I witnessed that night (plus I now have an invite to train at Gym Jones, which I am more than just a little excited about).
And one final note, I would especially like to thank Rob for his sense of humor; while most guys are coming in the arena to songs by 50 Cent and the like, the good man Maximus had the foresight to play "You're the Best," the theme song to the Karate Kid. Which, as everyone who is anyone knows, won an Oscar for the best movie ever made. Ever. Plus it's stuck in my head now, so I've got that going for me.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Blast From The Past
In an effort to preserve (forever) some of my weirdness on the internet, I thought I would snag a few posts from my other blog and put them up here, starting with this one.
American History: What I've Learned
As I am officially done for the semester after taking my history 102 final this morning, I thought I would take this opportunity to share what I've learned. My professor handed out a list of key terms that we would need to know about for a study guide, and I have "elaborated" on those terms here so that you can see what your tax dollars buy in the way of an education these days. Enjoy!
1900s:
William McKinley - 25th President of the United States, known best for his previous routing of the English army at Stirling Bridge and Falkirk.
NAACP - The first in a series of films from Spike Lee's production company showing life in the inner city.
Eugene Debs - Commie.
Ellis Island - Importation point by which American officials could change the ridiculously hard-to-pronounce Eastern European names to something much easier to read and say by adding, get this, vowels. Novel concept, to be sure. I mean really, Czolgosz? What the hell is that??
1910s:
Fourteen Points - President Woodrow Wilson's ideas for Europe after the end of World War I. Was originally fifteen points, but his ideas about a Russian mail-order bride system was not seen as the progressive idea that we all know it is today. The man was way ahead of his time.
Zimmerman Telegram - Germany's attempt to convince the Mexican government to attack the U.S. The Mexican government declined, opting instead for their "100 year" plan, whereby they would infiltrate the United States slowly by "taking jobs that Americans won't do."
Emma Goldman - Jailed multiple times for conspiratorial and anarchist dealings, she was eventually deported and later became president of France. Commie.
1920s:
Teapot Dome, Wyoming - Two lonely sheep-herders find sanctuary in the arms of one another in this cold and lonely frontier.
Prohibition - The first cooperation between Hollywood and the U.S. Government to provide numerous resources for motion picture plot-lines. Although very successful at first, was repealed after the whole "Al Capone" character became really played out.
Marcus Garvey - Invented Reggae in this decade and used it as a launching platform for civil rights activism. Historians debate whether or not it worked, but generally agree that Exodus by Bob Marley was a damn fine album.
Calvin Coolidge - 30th President of the United States, Coolidge was mostly ignored by history until many years later when he was immortalized in a cartoon about his childhood antics with his stuffed tiger.
1930s:
Social Security - Set up as a debate platform for Democrats and Republicans so that they could have something to "debate" for control over old-people votes.
Spanish Civil War - Umm, dude. This is American History, ok?
Eleanor Roosevelt - Stunningly beautiful woman, known as the "super-model" of first ladies, FDR could never even look at other women as taking his eyes off of Eleanor was next to impossible... wait, what? No? Ok, skip this one.
Appeasement - The attempt by Neville Chamberlain's government in Great Britain to "appease" Adolf Hitler's Germany instead of deal with it militarily. Widely successful. Hitler relinquished power in 1935 to follow up on his dreams to graduate art school instead of the "ruthless dictator" route which many historians believe he would have pursued if not for Chamberlain's wisdom.
1940s:
Berlin - Rated as 3rd on Lonely Planet's guide to "Top Ten Vacation Spots of 1947" right behind Stalingrad and Nagasaki.
Iron Curtain - Mistakenly thought to be a term describing the division between Eastern and Western Europe, it was actually a phrase Winston Churchill used to summarize the reaction he received when he tried to "get some" from Mrs. Churchill.
Marshall Plan - Send... money... to... Europe. Communism = bad.
J. Strom Thurmond - The guy who wouldn't die. Seriously. Served as a Senator from 1954 until 2003. Holy crap. Was governor of South Carolina before that. Fought in WWII before that. Was a judge before that? Sure, why not. I believe he was Captain of either the Nina or the Pinta before that.
1950s:
38th Parallel - Dividing line between North and South Korea. Would become a favorite hang-out for American service members for several generations.
Duck and Cover - Yeah, right.
Kitchen Debate - Impromptu meeting between VP Richard Nixon and Soviet Premier Nikita Khrushchev after the latter challenged "Tricky Dick" to a cook-off. Several KGB officers were subsequently executed for the intelligence failure of not knowing about Nixon's wicked omelet-making skills.
Sputnik - The Soviet Union's first, and thankfully last, attempt to break into the adult film industry.
Baby Boom - Truck loads of babies were blown up, apparently for the joy of money-grubbing Republicans. Seriously though, service members returned from over seas by the boat-load and started breeding like rabbits. Thanks to that, we have our parents.
1960s:
Hotline - Developed after the Cuban Missile Crisis in 1962 so that the U.S. leaders could chat with Soviet leaders about interns.
Gulf of Tonkin Resolution - As a result of SecDef McNamara's testimony, Congress passed a joint around the room and got baked. Oh wait, they passed a joint "resolution." Apparently that's different, although I'm not sure how.
Apollo 11 - One of many successful endeavors by Hollywood studios to con the American public by staging a "moon landing" with "astronauts" Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin, and some guy history has already forgotten. I think he was the stunt man. See also "Barbara Streisand" and "The Clinton Administration" for other ruses pulled off by Hollywood.
Watts Riot - Rodney King's first run-in with the LAPD resulted in 34 dead, and 35 million injured. Which seems high, so I'll check my facts later on that one.
Napalm - Jellied gasoline used to clear out large areas of downtown Los Angeles.
1970s:
Kent State University - May 4, 1970. Dirty hippies thought they were soooo smart, what with their long hair and their "protests." Non-violence, yeah that paid off well for 'em.
Cambodia - Dude, I say again, American history. Sheesh.
Ms. Magazine - Founded by Gloria Steinem as a much needed venue to discuss orgasms.
Gerald Ford - Heck of a President, I say. Well ok, maybe not. But he was the 38th one. And he granted some famous guy a pardon. I think it was an actor.
Iran Hostage Crisis - Current leader of Iran, Mahmoud Ahmanidejad, takes American hostages in the U.S. embassy in Tehran. Attempt to rescue hostages, led by up-and-coming action hero Chuck Norris fails miserably. Hostages later released on the day Ronald Reagan is sworn into office. Chickens.
CREEP - Codename for Nixon's operation where he told some people to break into Democratic Party headquarters and steal some stuff. Then Dustin Hoffman and Robert Redford got famous for catching them.
As you can all see, that was money well spent on this semester. Learning is fun!!!
American History: What I've Learned
As I am officially done for the semester after taking my history 102 final this morning, I thought I would take this opportunity to share what I've learned. My professor handed out a list of key terms that we would need to know about for a study guide, and I have "elaborated" on those terms here so that you can see what your tax dollars buy in the way of an education these days. Enjoy!
1900s:
William McKinley - 25th President of the United States, known best for his previous routing of the English army at Stirling Bridge and Falkirk.
NAACP - The first in a series of films from Spike Lee's production company showing life in the inner city.
Eugene Debs - Commie.
Ellis Island - Importation point by which American officials could change the ridiculously hard-to-pronounce Eastern European names to something much easier to read and say by adding, get this, vowels. Novel concept, to be sure. I mean really, Czolgosz? What the hell is that??
1910s:
Fourteen Points - President Woodrow Wilson's ideas for Europe after the end of World War I. Was originally fifteen points, but his ideas about a Russian mail-order bride system was not seen as the progressive idea that we all know it is today. The man was way ahead of his time.
Zimmerman Telegram - Germany's attempt to convince the Mexican government to attack the U.S. The Mexican government declined, opting instead for their "100 year" plan, whereby they would infiltrate the United States slowly by "taking jobs that Americans won't do."
Emma Goldman - Jailed multiple times for conspiratorial and anarchist dealings, she was eventually deported and later became president of France. Commie.
1920s:
Teapot Dome, Wyoming - Two lonely sheep-herders find sanctuary in the arms of one another in this cold and lonely frontier.
Prohibition - The first cooperation between Hollywood and the U.S. Government to provide numerous resources for motion picture plot-lines. Although very successful at first, was repealed after the whole "Al Capone" character became really played out.
Marcus Garvey - Invented Reggae in this decade and used it as a launching platform for civil rights activism. Historians debate whether or not it worked, but generally agree that Exodus by Bob Marley was a damn fine album.
Calvin Coolidge - 30th President of the United States, Coolidge was mostly ignored by history until many years later when he was immortalized in a cartoon about his childhood antics with his stuffed tiger.
1930s:
Social Security - Set up as a debate platform for Democrats and Republicans so that they could have something to "debate" for control over old-people votes.
Spanish Civil War - Umm, dude. This is American History, ok?
Eleanor Roosevelt - Stunningly beautiful woman, known as the "super-model" of first ladies, FDR could never even look at other women as taking his eyes off of Eleanor was next to impossible... wait, what? No? Ok, skip this one.
Appeasement - The attempt by Neville Chamberlain's government in Great Britain to "appease" Adolf Hitler's Germany instead of deal with it militarily. Widely successful. Hitler relinquished power in 1935 to follow up on his dreams to graduate art school instead of the "ruthless dictator" route which many historians believe he would have pursued if not for Chamberlain's wisdom.
1940s:
Berlin - Rated as 3rd on Lonely Planet's guide to "Top Ten Vacation Spots of 1947" right behind Stalingrad and Nagasaki.
Iron Curtain - Mistakenly thought to be a term describing the division between Eastern and Western Europe, it was actually a phrase Winston Churchill used to summarize the reaction he received when he tried to "get some" from Mrs. Churchill.
Marshall Plan - Send... money... to... Europe. Communism = bad.
J. Strom Thurmond - The guy who wouldn't die. Seriously. Served as a Senator from 1954 until 2003. Holy crap. Was governor of South Carolina before that. Fought in WWII before that. Was a judge before that? Sure, why not. I believe he was Captain of either the Nina or the Pinta before that.
1950s:
38th Parallel - Dividing line between North and South Korea. Would become a favorite hang-out for American service members for several generations.
Duck and Cover - Yeah, right.
Kitchen Debate - Impromptu meeting between VP Richard Nixon and Soviet Premier Nikita Khrushchev after the latter challenged "Tricky Dick" to a cook-off. Several KGB officers were subsequently executed for the intelligence failure of not knowing about Nixon's wicked omelet-making skills.
Sputnik - The Soviet Union's first, and thankfully last, attempt to break into the adult film industry.
Baby Boom - Truck loads of babies were blown up, apparently for the joy of money-grubbing Republicans. Seriously though, service members returned from over seas by the boat-load and started breeding like rabbits. Thanks to that, we have our parents.
1960s:
Hotline - Developed after the Cuban Missile Crisis in 1962 so that the U.S. leaders could chat with Soviet leaders about interns.
Gulf of Tonkin Resolution - As a result of SecDef McNamara's testimony, Congress passed a joint around the room and got baked. Oh wait, they passed a joint "resolution." Apparently that's different, although I'm not sure how.
Apollo 11 - One of many successful endeavors by Hollywood studios to con the American public by staging a "moon landing" with "astronauts" Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin, and some guy history has already forgotten. I think he was the stunt man. See also "Barbara Streisand" and "The Clinton Administration" for other ruses pulled off by Hollywood.
Watts Riot - Rodney King's first run-in with the LAPD resulted in 34 dead, and 35 million injured. Which seems high, so I'll check my facts later on that one.
Napalm - Jellied gasoline used to clear out large areas of downtown Los Angeles.
1970s:
Kent State University - May 4, 1970. Dirty hippies thought they were soooo smart, what with their long hair and their "protests." Non-violence, yeah that paid off well for 'em.
Cambodia - Dude, I say again, American history. Sheesh.
Ms. Magazine - Founded by Gloria Steinem as a much needed venue to discuss orgasms.
Gerald Ford - Heck of a President, I say. Well ok, maybe not. But he was the 38th one. And he granted some famous guy a pardon. I think it was an actor.
Iran Hostage Crisis - Current leader of Iran, Mahmoud Ahmanidejad, takes American hostages in the U.S. embassy in Tehran. Attempt to rescue hostages, led by up-and-coming action hero Chuck Norris fails miserably. Hostages later released on the day Ronald Reagan is sworn into office. Chickens.
CREEP - Codename for Nixon's operation where he told some people to break into Democratic Party headquarters and steal some stuff. Then Dustin Hoffman and Robert Redford got famous for catching them.
As you can all see, that was money well spent on this semester. Learning is fun!!!
Friday, September 28, 2007
Wicked Cool Mullets, Immigration, and Going Through Puberty
Where did I leave off before? Probably something to do with killing terrorists and hanging out with one of the many supermodels which frequently end up at my doorstep, I would guess. Either that or watching Knight Rider reruns in my Underroos and eating Cheetos. I can't remember, really.
What I do remember, however, is going home to Colorado for a break a few weeks ago to spend some time high ranking people in my command, er, family. After a weekend of complete debauchery (Mom & Dad are into some really, really weird stuff like "talking" and "eating dinner together." I won't even go into the whole "give presents to your sister for her birthday" nonsense that went on...) with them, I headed with Minja-boy and The Red Ryder herself to what could realistically be labeled the cultural event of a lifetime: the Pueblo, Colorado state fair. Let me begin by saying that if you for any reason thought that the Mullet was a hairstyle whose time had come and gone, you are sadly mistaken, pal. It is back and, by the looks of it, here to stay thanks in no small part to one man who, thankfully, completely understands not only the hairdo's fantastic staying power, but also its nearly mythical powers when worn properly: the locks flowing down to the middle of the back, neatly crimped, bleached, and moussed; accentuated perfectly with a tank top, tight jeans and high-top sneakers left untied. I'm not gay but dammit, I thought briefly about reconsidering for that fella. As I am sure you can understand.
Scarily, I had but only a few moments to recover from that Greek-god-like character before I witnessed yet another gem (and fine example of why state fairs are grossly underrated): A Mexican biker with a swastika head band. Uhh... what? Yeah, I'm still a little confused by the whole thing. Oh don't get me wrong, I really want to subscribe to whatever it is that this guy is selling. I'm guessing it's some pretty heavy, in-depth stuff requiring a hefty chunk of brain power to fully appreciate, so it may be something that will take a while to understand. I mean, just figuring out the logistics of kicking all the Jews out of Mexico would be, well... you know. Hard. Really.
And I have to be honest with you, after describing that state fair, the rest of my week at home will seem pretty weak by comparison. I dug some post-holes and we built horse stalls. See? No mullets or walking oxymorons anywhere in that tale. Sheesh.
It was a wonderful time, however, and I am always grateful to be able to spend time with those close to my heart. Plus they pretend to like me, which boosts my already ridiculously large ego to epic proportions. Which is kinda cool.
Now I am back in Texas doing the whole take-the-illegals-back-to-where-they-came-from thing. Well, not right now I'm not. Actually I just finished watching Jenna Bush being interviewed by Dianne Sawyer on TV. Pretty interesting, even though she's not even the hot one. Bring out Barbara, dang nabbit! I think she would totally dig me. Especially since I lost my voice from some sort of Central American SARS thing. Presidential daughters dig guys who sound like they are going through puberty, right? RIGHT?!?!
Anyway, things are going smoothly, even with the occasional hiccup. The boss came down to fly with us for a week and by Thursday three guys had been fired. Well that would be fine and dandy except that we only have 13 people on the team. Crimeny. We joked with him and told him that if he stays another week, there will only be about four people on the plane staring at each other and wondering who's next. I know that I would be one of the last to go due to my ever-increasing Spanish vocabulary. Today I learned how to say the word "sandwich" in the foreign tongue. Are you ready for this? Here goes: sandwich. Get that? Need me to repeat it? It's a lot to take in, and obviously I'm not learning anymore today (or the rest of the week, for that matter. It's friggin' Friday, for cryin' out loud!), so go ahead and call that your lesson. I'll be back on Monday with the next one.
And I would also like to reiterate that I just watched the whole interview with Jenna Bush and only saw her sister, like, twice. What a rip-off.
What I do remember, however, is going home to Colorado for a break a few weeks ago to spend some time high ranking people in my command, er, family. After a weekend of complete debauchery (Mom & Dad are into some really, really weird stuff like "talking" and "eating dinner together." I won't even go into the whole "give presents to your sister for her birthday" nonsense that went on...) with them, I headed with Minja-boy and The Red Ryder herself to what could realistically be labeled the cultural event of a lifetime: the Pueblo, Colorado state fair. Let me begin by saying that if you for any reason thought that the Mullet was a hairstyle whose time had come and gone, you are sadly mistaken, pal. It is back and, by the looks of it, here to stay thanks in no small part to one man who, thankfully, completely understands not only the hairdo's fantastic staying power, but also its nearly mythical powers when worn properly: the locks flowing down to the middle of the back, neatly crimped, bleached, and moussed; accentuated perfectly with a tank top, tight jeans and high-top sneakers left untied. I'm not gay but dammit, I thought briefly about reconsidering for that fella. As I am sure you can understand.
Scarily, I had but only a few moments to recover from that Greek-god-like character before I witnessed yet another gem (and fine example of why state fairs are grossly underrated): A Mexican biker with a swastika head band. Uhh... what? Yeah, I'm still a little confused by the whole thing. Oh don't get me wrong, I really want to subscribe to whatever it is that this guy is selling. I'm guessing it's some pretty heavy, in-depth stuff requiring a hefty chunk of brain power to fully appreciate, so it may be something that will take a while to understand. I mean, just figuring out the logistics of kicking all the Jews out of Mexico would be, well... you know. Hard. Really.
And I have to be honest with you, after describing that state fair, the rest of my week at home will seem pretty weak by comparison. I dug some post-holes and we built horse stalls. See? No mullets or walking oxymorons anywhere in that tale. Sheesh.
It was a wonderful time, however, and I am always grateful to be able to spend time with those close to my heart. Plus they pretend to like me, which boosts my already ridiculously large ego to epic proportions. Which is kinda cool.
Now I am back in Texas doing the whole take-the-illegals-back-to-where-they-came-from thing. Well, not right now I'm not. Actually I just finished watching Jenna Bush being interviewed by Dianne Sawyer on TV. Pretty interesting, even though she's not even the hot one. Bring out Barbara, dang nabbit! I think she would totally dig me. Especially since I lost my voice from some sort of Central American SARS thing. Presidential daughters dig guys who sound like they are going through puberty, right? RIGHT?!?!
Anyway, things are going smoothly, even with the occasional hiccup. The boss came down to fly with us for a week and by Thursday three guys had been fired. Well that would be fine and dandy except that we only have 13 people on the team. Crimeny. We joked with him and told him that if he stays another week, there will only be about four people on the plane staring at each other and wondering who's next. I know that I would be one of the last to go due to my ever-increasing Spanish vocabulary. Today I learned how to say the word "sandwich" in the foreign tongue. Are you ready for this? Here goes: sandwich. Get that? Need me to repeat it? It's a lot to take in, and obviously I'm not learning anymore today (or the rest of the week, for that matter. It's friggin' Friday, for cryin' out loud!), so go ahead and call that your lesson. I'll be back on Monday with the next one.
And I would also like to reiterate that I just watched the whole interview with Jenna Bush and only saw her sister, like, twice. What a rip-off.
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
Hay, Weak Trailers, Fencing and Midget Ninjas
As mentioned before, once the job in Oakland was done I headed back home and out to do some more ranchin', by gum.
The first order of business was getting hay for the winter. I'm going to say right here and now that getting hay is not the most fun job in the world. In fact, I would probably rank it pretty low. Worse than carrying a ruck sack up a mountain in Utah? Well let's not get crazy... The job began by heading down to the thriving metropolis of Boone, Colorado. Never heard of it? What the hell is wrong with you? They have a mall and everything. So says the cowboy that hauled the hay, "shoot, it's got one... two... two stores. That's a mall!" Dang skippy it is, Red. Anyhoo, after picking him up we drove to La Junta (it's a soft "J") and met up with a real old-fashioned cowboy who still loads hay out of a field by using draft horses and a wagon. I would tell you his name, but you wouldn't believe me (or the one you have thought of is probably correct), and I would tell you what he looked like, but the image you've already pictured in your mind is most likely an exact description (complete with snow-white handle bar mustache). Then I could tell you how he talked, but... well, ya know.
We backed the trailer up next to the wagon (which already had a load on it), and jumped up on the trailer to begin loading. Unbeknownst to me, however, was the "weak spot" in the trailer. Apparently there was a conversation taking place in secret regarding the spot about five seconds before I fell through it and made a hole the size of your favorite ex-Army blogger. I remember the phrase "Oh crap, we've only been here two minutes and we're already down a man!" being uttered, but I carried on. The mission is all that matters, roger?
After many, many more loads of hay, we finally finished the job of getting it all loaded up in a barn. I didn't feel too bad when it was done, 'cause everyone else was pretty much sick of it too. Considering I'm just a "city kid" I didn't do all that bad. Heh. Lucky for us we finished when we did, as the next night we got nailed with a pretty heavy thunderstorm, shutting down the power for several hours. We had been sitting and talking for an hour or so when around the corner came this:
I don't know how many midget-ninjas (minja, for short) wearing yellow Sponge-Bob Square Pants goggles you have run into, but rest assured, it's a pretty scary event. I did my best to take care of the problem but as you can see here, I didn't fare too well:
To say that I was humbled and "shown who was boss" would be the understatement of the century. My weak skills are certainly no match for the power of the 9-year old minja.
The first order of business was getting hay for the winter. I'm going to say right here and now that getting hay is not the most fun job in the world. In fact, I would probably rank it pretty low. Worse than carrying a ruck sack up a mountain in Utah? Well let's not get crazy... The job began by heading down to the thriving metropolis of Boone, Colorado. Never heard of it? What the hell is wrong with you? They have a mall and everything. So says the cowboy that hauled the hay, "shoot, it's got one... two... two stores. That's a mall!" Dang skippy it is, Red. Anyhoo, after picking him up we drove to La Junta (it's a soft "J") and met up with a real old-fashioned cowboy who still loads hay out of a field by using draft horses and a wagon. I would tell you his name, but you wouldn't believe me (or the one you have thought of is probably correct), and I would tell you what he looked like, but the image you've already pictured in your mind is most likely an exact description (complete with snow-white handle bar mustache). Then I could tell you how he talked, but... well, ya know.
We backed the trailer up next to the wagon (which already had a load on it), and jumped up on the trailer to begin loading. Unbeknownst to me, however, was the "weak spot" in the trailer. Apparently there was a conversation taking place in secret regarding the spot about five seconds before I fell through it and made a hole the size of your favorite ex-Army blogger. I remember the phrase "Oh crap, we've only been here two minutes and we're already down a man!" being uttered, but I carried on. The mission is all that matters, roger?
After many, many more loads of hay, we finally finished the job of getting it all loaded up in a barn. I didn't feel too bad when it was done, 'cause everyone else was pretty much sick of it too. Considering I'm just a "city kid" I didn't do all that bad. Heh. Lucky for us we finished when we did, as the next night we got nailed with a pretty heavy thunderstorm, shutting down the power for several hours. We had been sitting and talking for an hour or so when around the corner came this:
I don't know how many midget-ninjas (minja, for short) wearing yellow Sponge-Bob Square Pants goggles you have run into, but rest assured, it's a pretty scary event. I did my best to take care of the problem but as you can see here, I didn't fare too well:
To say that I was humbled and "shown who was boss" would be the understatement of the century. My weak skills are certainly no match for the power of the 9-year old minja.
And so the story continues now with me being back in Texas doing the incredibly strenuous job of taking illegal aliens back to their country of origin. But things could get pretty interesting in the next few days, as there is a major hurricane headed in our direction. With any luck I could end up in a Katrina-esque situation cracking skulls and looting some television sets. Why? 'Cause the man is keeping me down, yo! So stay tuned for some possible exciting commentary on that action. Word to your mother.
(Oh yeah, and the date on the post is about ten days old, as that is when I started writing it. If you care. Which you don't. So I'll just go eat some worms. Non-carerers!!!)
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
Garbage Collection: The Final Solution
Well the Waste Management strike in Oakland finally came to an end and thus, so did our job of providing security. Which is just A OK with me, as I was leaving the detail anyway due to some "gut feelings" I had about certain issues.
But I didn't leave without any stories. And I think my favorite one would involve the phone call I received from one of the agents following a garbage truck while I was in the CP (Command Post). The agent relayed to me, in real time, that he was "surrounded" by picketers, and that they had blocked his car -- as well as the garbage truck -- from moving. He then told me that one of the picketers had pulled a knife and was making threatening gestures. The agent was noticeably shaken up and had a fair amount of adrenaline pumping through his ever-so masculine veins.
It was at this point where I calmly (from the air conditioned hotel room/CP, where I was in the middle of watching The Ringer in which Johnny Knoxville pretends to be retarded so he can win the Special Olympics on a bet -- good stuff) interjected "Are your doors locked?" He said yes, so I told him "Umm, then why don't you just drive through the people?"
Let me back up here a second; I realize that most people have never taken a tactical driving course so I will explain a very simple principle: Your car is a two and-a-half ton bullet. It's the most powerful weapon you own on the street. If people are in your way... well, you do the math. So you may be saying to yourself "well maybe this guy didn't have any tactical driving experience." Just keep reading.
Once the incident was over, the agent in question did what he was supposed to do and filed a report with the police. After he was finished with that, he calls the CP and demands to be picked up, as "the picketers are sure to recognize my car and come after it." Uhh... yeah. So I relay this to my boss, who I have worked with before, and after the laughter subsides the man who brought me out for the job says "get in my Suburban and we'll go get him." This should be fun, I figure, as he is a retired Army 1st Sgt. and has had nothing but a bad day. I'm all about viewing an ass-chewing.
We get to the location and the boss tells the hero-in-question to get in his vehicle and that he will take him back to the hotel. "How are you going to get my car back" he asks. The 1st Sgt. looks at me and I just grin as I get into the vehicle in question. The agent stammers "well be sure to, uhh, button down tight, 'cause, uhh... they might recognize you!" The boss-man then utters a classic, tobacco-in-the-lip, "this ain't fuckin' Baghdad, dude." It was a struggle to keep from laughing.
The reason I have no qualms about telling an embarrassing story like this one is two-fold: One, the guy turned out to be a serious pain in the keister when dealing with back at the CP. And two (and more importantly), when asked what his background was, he replied "law enforcement." Wow. Where did you serve as a police officer, Podunk, Idaho? This is the quality of people we have in the security and law enforcement world. It truly is a wonder that there isn't more crime... The funniest part of the whole story is that this was the most exciting part of the whole detail. Sad but true.
Upon leaving Oakland, I returned to the "reject zoo gang" on the ranch. That is, however, another story. Which involves hay. A lot of hay. Then some more hay. Did I mention that there was a lot of hay? Ok, just wasn't sure.
Details on that to follow soon, as well as the story of being attacked by a midget-ninja. Scary stuff.
But I didn't leave without any stories. And I think my favorite one would involve the phone call I received from one of the agents following a garbage truck while I was in the CP (Command Post). The agent relayed to me, in real time, that he was "surrounded" by picketers, and that they had blocked his car -- as well as the garbage truck -- from moving. He then told me that one of the picketers had pulled a knife and was making threatening gestures. The agent was noticeably shaken up and had a fair amount of adrenaline pumping through his ever-so masculine veins.
It was at this point where I calmly (from the air conditioned hotel room/CP, where I was in the middle of watching The Ringer in which Johnny Knoxville pretends to be retarded so he can win the Special Olympics on a bet -- good stuff) interjected "Are your doors locked?" He said yes, so I told him "Umm, then why don't you just drive through the people?"
Let me back up here a second; I realize that most people have never taken a tactical driving course so I will explain a very simple principle: Your car is a two and-a-half ton bullet. It's the most powerful weapon you own on the street. If people are in your way... well, you do the math. So you may be saying to yourself "well maybe this guy didn't have any tactical driving experience." Just keep reading.
Once the incident was over, the agent in question did what he was supposed to do and filed a report with the police. After he was finished with that, he calls the CP and demands to be picked up, as "the picketers are sure to recognize my car and come after it." Uhh... yeah. So I relay this to my boss, who I have worked with before, and after the laughter subsides the man who brought me out for the job says "get in my Suburban and we'll go get him." This should be fun, I figure, as he is a retired Army 1st Sgt. and has had nothing but a bad day. I'm all about viewing an ass-chewing.
We get to the location and the boss tells the hero-in-question to get in his vehicle and that he will take him back to the hotel. "How are you going to get my car back" he asks. The 1st Sgt. looks at me and I just grin as I get into the vehicle in question. The agent stammers "well be sure to, uhh, button down tight, 'cause, uhh... they might recognize you!" The boss-man then utters a classic, tobacco-in-the-lip, "this ain't fuckin' Baghdad, dude." It was a struggle to keep from laughing.
The reason I have no qualms about telling an embarrassing story like this one is two-fold: One, the guy turned out to be a serious pain in the keister when dealing with back at the CP. And two (and more importantly), when asked what his background was, he replied "law enforcement." Wow. Where did you serve as a police officer, Podunk, Idaho? This is the quality of people we have in the security and law enforcement world. It truly is a wonder that there isn't more crime... The funniest part of the whole story is that this was the most exciting part of the whole detail. Sad but true.
Upon leaving Oakland, I returned to the "reject zoo gang" on the ranch. That is, however, another story. Which involves hay. A lot of hay. Then some more hay. Did I mention that there was a lot of hay? Ok, just wasn't sure.
Details on that to follow soon, as well as the story of being attacked by a midget-ninja. Scary stuff.
Marxism Doesn't Work?
Say it isn't so!
Every time I read something from The Onion, the only question in my mind is why I don't read it more often. Pure comedy gold.
Every time I read something from The Onion, the only question in my mind is why I don't read it more often. Pure comedy gold.
Great Article
With a really great ending line:
"...right now we should hold the Muslim world to the same standards of
tolerance that we demand of ourselves -- no more apologies for things like our
insensitive cartoons or excuses for their insane anger against novelists. In
turn, the Middle East must grow up and accept, like the rest of the world, that
there are social and cultural costs and consequences for any who wish to embrace
the benefits of modernism."
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