Wednesday, August 23, 2006

It's Official ... I'm Out of Compassion

Yes true believers, it's finally happened. The bed wetting liberal has finally reached his limit of compassion. It's a sad state of affairs and to an extent I feel guilty about not feeling guilty. But I think I have just hit that brick wall that sociologists has termed compassion fatigue.

It really hit me yesterday morning. I spent the weekend with another damn cold and I had to take Monday off so that I fulfill my lifelong dream of filling Kleenex with snot. So Tuesday I'm on my way to work and as per the standard in the South, it's as hot and sticky as Paris Hilton's thong after a night out. I was in the last throes of a nasty cold which always seems to hit me when the weather is at its worst and the air in the ATL is as thick as pea soup. Breathing is pretty much a chore on these days. And to top it off, I have to walk about 7 blocks from the parking lot to work which leaves me sweating like a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.

On my way in, a homeless guy starts to bug me for change. I'm already feeling like shit and the hour and a half ride to get downtown is already just too much. So I tell him I'm sorry that I don't have any and start to walk away. Then he asks me if I'm sure that I don't have any change. Once again, I reiterate that I don't have any. Herein lies the rub.

The problem is that this isn't a once a month or even once a week occurrence. Nope. This is getting to be a twice daily assualt as I walk from to and from work. I consider myself compassionate, but if I gave change everytime I was asked, I'd seriously be broke.

I hate to think I'm not compassionate which would make me feel guilty as all get up. Hell, I'm Catholic; I've got nothing but guilt. Everytime I throw away a bite of food I remember all too well the Catholic school nuns telling us that whenever we "wasted" food, the angels in heaven cried. So now everytime I don't polish off that last bite of an ill-gotten Big Mac, the choir of angels are bawling and I'm to blame.

BUT how much is enough already? I know I'm only human but I've actually gotten to the point to where if I have money in my wallet that I really need but don't give to that guy sitting on the front steps of the church smelling like 3 days of urine that has dried in the sun, I actually feel bad. AM I crazy or just Catholic?


P.S. The pic is one I've taken with my new digital camera. Actually, this lady is always nice and never bugs anyone. She always says hi and wishes you well when you walk by.

Saturday, August 19, 2006

How The Anti-Christ Stole My Morning Walk

Note: As per usual, Blogger is having problems loading pics or just having problems so the pic I had for this is not uploading .... just go here for a pic of what I was going to load up.
This morning I got to work way early. For whatever reason, there must be some sort of virus that infected all of the useless housewives whose only purpose in life is to breed spoiled rotten crumb snatchers and to clog the main traffic arteries in this city. There was absolutely no traffic today. Normally, I spend at least an hour and fifteen minutes in traffic. Today? I was in the parking lot in 45 minutes. It was incredible; it was as if all the braindead fucks stayed home to watch more Jonbenet Ramsey news coverage.

Since I had a good 1/2 hour before I had to clock in, I decided to walk over to Obesity Central (that being McDonalds) and get a drink. In downtown ATL, this will mean a McD's where a homeless guy who smells like cat urine is screaming obsenities at a streetlamp. Undetered, I turned on my Gigabeat, set it to shuffle, and proceeded on my merry way.

On my way there, I passed one of the federal buildings. As I approach the building, Guster's "Manifest Destiny" is working its magic and setting my mind alight. The closer I get, I hear these lyrics:

You and I could quit this scene
Build a town and then secede
Like an Adam and an Eve
'Cause to the dreamers go the dreams
But the leaders have the lead
It's a frightening, frightening thing

Born to the land of opportunity
Of manifest destiny
Do you want to change your mind?
You can always change your mind

Outside the building, there is a line of people wearing their best outfits. I thought this strange until I realized that this was where immigration hearings were held. However, this was also the place where immigrants had their citizenship ceremony. It was one of those perfect moments. It's where the music is so perfect and so right for the moment. Throngs of people ready to swear allegiance to this great nation are outside, passing through a doorway only to emerge later through that same doorway as an American citizen. My heart was swelling with pride and affection for my country because here it was opening its door for the poor, the tired, and the huddled masses yearning to breathe free. This was a perfect moment that I wanted to capture, so I go into my backpack to pull out my digital camera (yes ... I finally got one and yes, I will post of a pic of my ugly mug once I can get a pic in which I don't look like the Michelin Man). And then George W. Bush's "safer world" ruined my perfect moment .........
One of the rent-a-cop security guards starts talking but I've got my headphones on. She starts motioning and yelling for me to stop taking a picture outside. There is not one sign in the area that states "No Photographs" and I'm on a public street on the sidewalk. This $6.50 an hour rent-a-sitting-on-her-ass-doing-nothing who has spent more time working on her corn-chip nails in one sitting than she has ever spent reading the manual that the "Rent-A-Cops On A Budget" has provided her. I yell back:
"You're a fucking rent-a-cop. You have no idea about the Constitution or my civil rights as an American."
And with that, I turned around and walked away.
I start asking myself how did we come to this? How did we get to the point that taking pictures could be seen as a security risk? And I remembered a speech that the Anti-Christ gave a while back declaring that we are in a safer world because of the "War on Terror". What a bunch of bullshit!!
Oh really? Safer? I guess next time I go to Egypt, I won't have to worry about some fucking radical offshoot of Islam bombing a hotel or disco because the world is safer. I guess next time I go to the Phillippines I won't have to worry about being kidnapped by terrorists in the jungle because the world is safer. I guess next time I ride a train in Spain I won't have to worry about explosives being set off because the world is safer. I guess next time I take a double decker in London I won't have to worry about having my asshole blown off and onto the side of a financial district building because the Anti-Christ and his minions have made the world safer for us all. Gee, thanks FOX news for proliferating the message that the world is safe because your keeper in the sullied White House has now declared it so.

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

Random Thoughts From The Devil

If I had breasts as nice as ScarJo, I swear I'd never leave the house.

Salma Hayek is hot as is Kate Winslet. What makes them both super hot is that they wouldn't put up with male macho bullshit (of which at times I can have just a touch of .....)

Atlanta is way too humid for human habitability. As stupid as it sounds, Phoenix actually was way more tolerable.

In Georgia, you can actually get an
Auburn University license plate .... which is strange considering that Auburn is in fucking Alabama!!! I'm waiting for Ohio to put out University of Michigan plates.

Everytime I think I've heard of a great new band, Deeesguy already has the CD or is past them and on to something new.

Does anyone besides
porn bots still use chat rooms?

MTV has officially become the
wealthy, spoiled, high-school aged fuckstick channel (as if I'm revealing anything new)

Rae Carruth's head has a weird ass shape.

I actually respect Chappelle for walking away. I've read that one of his skits actually pushed him over the edge and that he felt he was only perpetuating a stereotype, not lampooning it in an intelligent way.

Dharma & Greg is still the most painfully unfunny sitcom in history.

I fucking hate the
New York Yankees, the Dallas Cowboys, the Philadelphia Flyers, Brigham Young University, and the Los Angeles Lakers. I might even throw in Ohio State just to get Deeesguy's goat. I hate goats too ...

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

I'm A Child Of The 80's Who Pays Attention To The Lyrics In Songs

Now, I'm like many of you and I'm a child of the late 70's and 80's. The picture to the left should be an indication of that (how many of you really remember this shirt?). I always liked knowing the words to songs so that singing along (and yes, I sing poorly) was more fun. I've spent a road trip in college trying to learn all the words to REM's "It's the End of the World As We Know It" while driving to the location of my liver's beatdown. As I've gotten older, I'm especially intrigued by lyrical workmanship. I have always maintained that Robert Smith of the Cure is not a songwriter, rather, he is a poet. Therefore, trite and thin songwriting is a pet peeve of mine.

Monday night, I’m working out at Gold's gym and I'm watching the chachs go to town lifting obscene amounts of weight. They're flexing and strutting trying to woo the 22 year old ladies each of whom probably refers to herself as "a young professional" when in reality all she does is answer the phones at a dentist's office. In the midst of this testosterone and fake 'n' bake induced mating ritual, Gold's has this "video music" system going on in the background. I put the phrase in quotes to signal my obvious dismay as to what they're calling music. It's a mix of bad pop music a la Ashley Simpson and terrible Euro-trash so called techno. It reeks of cheesiness and poor taste. What amazed me even more was watching the chachs really start getting worked up to some of the music.

Now I know most of us listen to music for the rhythm and not for the lyrics. I'll grant you that. But if you start lip-syncing the lyrics, then you've crossed the line and now you're squarely in my realm. Here are these chachs listening to a band that should be playing Six Flags and they were getting into it. It was as if it inspired them; like the insipid and trite lyrics were speaking to them. Let me give you a sample of the pseudo mook rock I'm referring to:

When The world keeps trying to drag me down,
Gotta raise my hands, gonna stand my ground.
I say, hey, Have A Nice Day-ay-ay.
Have A Nice Day-ay-ay

Wow. Those lyrics are inspiring … sorta like the inspiration you get when you see someone puke in public when you can taste the bile rising in the back of your throat. They lyrics are so … well … so bland, so common, so everyday. But these mooks at the gym were getting pumped up by this. It was as if Bon Jovi (whose initials, B.J., are what you should get if you actually buy one of their CD's) wrote this piece of shit in preparation for their secondary career of playing county fairs alongside Nickelback and Loverboy. It was as if the mooks were saying to each other "Yeah, that's right. If I'm having a shitty day, I'll just tell the world to have a nice day. Fuckin' a right!"

Now compare the lyrical larceny that is Bon Jovi with Mike Doughty's "Madeleine and Nine":

Slave to the inside light
My world is burning on eternally
For the fire I lack
This flame is feeling fine
Give my eyes just for your intentions
Risk my back to impress you now
I am so joyful that I have found you
Alls I need is to see you now

It's like watching the Gore - Bush debates where the Anti-Christ had that look on his face like a homecoming queen caught dropping ass at prom. The words are crafted so much more artfully and flow so much easier with great indie songwriters. It doesn't just extend to indie rock vs. mook/chach/county fair/mainstream rock. Nope, this phenomenom extends even to rap. Check out the monotone 50 Cent's "Wanksta":

Shorty she's so fine, I gotta make her mine
ass like that gotta be one of a kind
I crush 'em everytime
punch 'em with every line
I'm fucking with they mind
I make them press rewind

Hhhhmmm ..... quite sad and dull and trite if you ask me. It's as if he didn't even really try to spend more than an hour writing this song. I can see 50 writing these lyrics on a napkin in front of McD's while Eminem is ordering an Egg McMuffin. Now, let's get to a truly great rap artist, Common, with his tune "The Light":

It's important, we communicate
and tune the fate of this union, to the right pitch
I never call you my bitch or even my boo
There's so much in a name and so much more in you
Few understand the union of woman and man
And sex and a tingle is where they assume that it land
But that's fly by night for you and the sky I write
For in these cold Chi night's moon, you my light

Damn, how can poor 50 even begin to compete with that. It's like magnificent vs. monosyllabic. So next time you make a music choice, please don't go with what you'll hear on one of those fucking Clear Channel stations or anything with "power" in the nickname of the station. Hunt and peck a bit and try some lesser known artists and you'll be alot happier.

Friday, August 04, 2006

Truth in 6 cartoon panels


This cartoon perfectly sums up every supporter of the Anti-Christ or Conservative I know ....

Tuesday, August 01, 2006

The Republicans Eat Their Own Young!!!!!

The clown whore who delivered this nation into the hands of the most vile Anti-Christ was today officially kicked in the teeth by the Nazi Party, a.k.a. the GOP or the Republicans. The party of Pure Evil sent Katherine Harris a letter simply stating that she had about as much of a chance of winning the Congressional race in Florida as Toby Keith has of nailing Natalie Maines before a Dixie Chicks concert. With such long odds, they decided to withdraw their support from her campain.

We all remember Harris as that young upstart elections official who committed election fraud and all but reinstated Jim Crow laws in Florida to ensure the Dark Side would win the election. She was supposed to be the close minded answer to Hilary. Now, she's just that tramp with bad makeup.

Such is the way of politics but all this does is serve to remind me of the shit that the Bush crime family in the White House has perpetrated on this great nation. Clinton made like $36,000 from Whitewater; Cheney will reap untold millions, if not billions, from his stock from Haliburton. The right-wingers will tell you Cheney divested himself of any stock he had in Haliburton ... true, but he did not divest himself of stock options. Clinton got a knob-job in the Oval office and the fundamentalist "Christians" were calling for his head for being a "bad example" in the White House. The Anti-Christ blatantly manipulates intelligence to start a war where 1000's of young American GI's die and tens of thousands of Iraqi civilians will be murdered and not once have those jackoffs who bemoan the "sanctity of life" raised their voices in opposition to the war.

Gone are the reminders from the "liberal media" when W the Jackfuck and Dickhead Cheney professed that they knew where the WMOD were located. The "liberal media" hasn't so much as even sniffed at the Downing Street memo which spelled out that the Anti-Christ was going to manipulate intelligence to start the war. They've all but glossed over that. All that brain-dead conservatives hear from the FOX propaganda channel is that the public is not hearing enough about the good things the troops are doing. Now, as a former GI, I can tell you .... passing out stuffed animals and bags of candy to Iraqi kids may be a nice thing to do. But if an IED kills 40 people in a market in Baghdad, guess what the more important story is? No matter how good your intentions, you cannot force democracy at the end of a rifle. You don't win a war by winning the hearts and minds of the people. Apparently the Anti-Christ forgot that lesson since HE NEVER FUCKING WENT TO VIETNAM and has failed at everything he has ever done (look at the oil companies he started and the Texas Rangers before he sold the team ..... all of them complete and utter failures).

So Katherine Harris is getting her comeuppance and seeing what the Grand Old Party is really about ....... and it ain't good.