Closet Extremist

Nemesis report.

That Damn Wiley fish! Only one of the cussed things was caught today, and that was by my Dad, even before we left the dock. All morning long, it looked like it was going to rain. Very overcast and windy. After lunch I could stand it no longer, and we broke out the fishing boat.

Up the lake we go to oine of our favorite fishing spots, and we proceed to wet some lines. A nibble here, and a nibble there, but not much going on. Finally I get my hook into a fish, and get him out of the water, but there's a problem. It's a bass, not a crappie. Ah well, fun to catch anyway, so we keep going. Dad wound up catching a couple more before we decided to head back to the houseboat to avoid some rain that was on the way in.

All my life, my Dad has had an uncanny ability to read the weather. I don't know if he can feel it, or he is just able to read something in the clouds. He was always the one to have us pull our motorcycles over so we could don our raingear. The people who didn't feel like suiting up most often regretted it. He did it again today, as we had just pulled the boat into a covered slip before the rain really began to come down.

After the rain blew through, the skies began to break up, and after about three o'clock this afternoon, it became one of the most beautiful of day's. It would have been perfect if only the crappie were biting. It doesn't really matter though, it was a great day spent with the family.

Lake Blogging

I have finally returned my Dad's laptop to him (for those interested, the RAM issue was that it was the wrong clock speed) and since I just got it set up, I figured I'd update a little something.

It's fun to blog from a houseboat, but the big downside is that I'm on a dialup. 56k SUCKS!

Anyhow, I'm off to attempt to capture my nemesis

I hope everyone's Memorial Day is going well, and remember to take a minute to yourself and think about all those Servicemen, Past and Present, and everything they've done for us.

Meetings from the past

Another fine evening has transpired. Last Sunday I was over at the "rents place, and ordered some new RAM for their laptop. Much to my surprise, it came in yesterday, a full four days before it was minimally expected. Not a problem. I'll just drop by and install it...Survey Says? [X].

Problems abound after the installation. Machine posts, boots, gets through the initial load, and then a BSOD. Unfortunately, this being a laptop, the screen doesn't stay up long enough for me to read it, and the machine reboots. After a few various and sundry troubleshooting steps, it is determined that the new ram stick is "Boned". The weird part here is that it has a big sticker on it with the number "100" emblazoned upon it. What I ordered wsa a 256mb stick at 266 khz bus speed. What the hell does the 100 stand for?

I guess I'll have to do some searching, and figure out what type of stick they actually sent. Too much work for tonight. I'll tackle it sometime in the next few days, unless anyone has any ideas.

Since most of today it has been "raining like a cow pissing on a flat rock" (a phenomena that if you haven't witnessed, you wouldn't understand), I was asked if I could move abit of furniture from my Granny's over to my parents house. Being a good son, of course I agreed. Furniture moved, and KFC consumed, and I'm headed on out.

While walking through the parking lot to the van, I see a face I recognise. Someone from my storied past. This is the husband of a lady I used to work with. Nice guy and all, but he secretly hates me with every fiber of his being. Cordially enough he greets me, and let's me know that the reason why he hates me is inside the restaurant. So after a pause to let him return to his seat inside, I enter. It took roughly .09 seconds before she realised that I was there, and looking her in the eye. "Ohmygawdit's John!" she squealed and literally climbed over her husband to give me a hug. What a nice feeling.

This lady is approximately 15 years my senior (a gentleman doesn't ask), and still "finer than frog hair". Much rubbing up against me and reminiscing took place. Lots of fun, but the "hairy eyeball" from the Mr. made me feel a little bad. Reminded me of the whole sordid scenario that went on even before I and the husband became acquainted.

This was 6 1/2 or 7 years ago, and the lady in question was on the outs with the Mr. She had let the house, and was currently staying with another friend of mine (who happened to be female). The friend was living in the "Old City" of Knoxville at the time, and I had a propensity for going down to that area and getting "FitShaced". Since I had a friend there, I also would crash there a lot. The Hubby was (at the time) stlking the estranged wife, and happened to note that a particularly handsome man was staying in the same place that the Wifey was, put 2 and 2 togehter and came up with 12.

I'm a bit uncomfortable at these sort of times, but the imagination still can't resist the "What If?". Lowered what fun it would have been to prove his suspicions correct.

A Journey and a Contest.

First off, There may be a few exaggerations in this post. See if you can spot them.

So it all began with an email. One that said that it would be best to just call, as the directions were far to complex to relate in an email. I dialed the number he gave me (seemed short a few digits), and Mabel the Operator answered. I asked her if she knew Eric, and she replied "Sure hon. I'll put you right through." When he came on the line, I knew immediately that I was dealing with a "Good Ole boy."

With the pleasantries dispensed with, he launched right into the directions. They included things such as "Go past where the old barn burnt down two years ago," and "Once you reach BFE, hang a left," and "I'll meet you at the corner filling station 'cuz from there it gets hard to find." I was undaunted by this as I have braved the wilds of deepest darkest East Tennessee before. I attempted to reach my regular "guides" Zeke and Rafe, but they were aparrently off on some moonshine soaked tirade, so I had to travel alone.

(I'll fast forward through the trip down as it was mostly uneventful. Nary a Banjo strain from Deliverance was heard.)

My arrival was praised as if it was the second coming. There was much rejoicing by all the natives, and they brought me gifts of Whittlin' and Whiskey. The girl with the most teeth even winked at me. I soon realised that the whole sense of festival was there due to the fact that a new challenger was there. One whose repute on the green felt was renowned throughout the land. Johnny - Oh had arrived to challenge the might of the vaunted Straight White Guy. Not a soul in a fifity mile radius would miss it.

The festivities began with the pouring of the ceremonial elixer. The crowds were stunned when I refused the traditional offering of scotch, and produced my own bottle of bourbon. There was a certain animosity in the crowd, but it was calmed by the gentlemanly manner of my host , who took no offense whatever. The traditions continued with "The passing of the six string". I was slightly taken aback by this, but managed to muster up some Clapton. Eric took up the same tune, but managed to make my skills look poorly. (Finger picking Bastard) The throng was becoming confident indeed.

We decided that it was time to enter the arena. The dulcet strains of Warren Zevon were wafting out of the corner. The crowd was breathless. The first break was given to the guest, and I'm here to tell you it was a hammer. Thor could do no better, even if all the powers of his famed weapon were instilled into a pool cue. The match was on.

The audience kept flipping between jubilance and despondence, fear and awe, and finally settled on stupification. They couldn't believe the duel that they were witnessing. Back and forth the two titans fought. The earth shook with each break, and lightning split the skies every time the eight ball fell. People in the crowd were falling down in fits of ecstasy, some began to speak in tongues, and the rest just fled in fear.

When the dust finally settled, it was dicovered that these great men had battled to a draw. The irrestable force had met with the immovable object. Stalemate. The few straggler's that remained wandered back into the wilderness in stunned silence. Unsure of whether they'd be able to recover from what they'd just seen. I'm sure that they'll be able to speak of this event in a few years. That day will be spoken of only in hushed, reverent tones. A legend is born.

The "Man from the witness protection program" arrived (bearing a piece of meteorite. I Swear.) after the fabled match had ceased, so we wound up shooting a few games of cutthroat. Noone was keeping score very well, but I believe that eric won one more than I did, so he was the victor on the whole day. Screw it. It's his house right? After another couple of hours, the last of the guests had left, so we retired to the main palace for some more six string.

John Prine, Willie Nelson, the Grateful Dead, and other's were in attendance. The "Straight White Wife" was duly impressed by our playing and singing.

Arsenals were displayed (Goblins beware!), and the place where the blog happens was revealed. Much conversation was enjoyed, and a few more libations imbibed. Sadly, I had to take my leave, as I had to find my way back out of the wilderness.

I had a wonderful time out there, and in my honest opinion, Eric is the salt of the earth. I hope that I'll be able to get back out there soon (prividing that I haven't worn out my welcome) as this is the type of people that I really enjoy being around.

Eric. Thanks again for inviting a total stranger out to your home, and making him feel like he belonged there.

Update: Eric's account can be found here.

A quick note on the blog meet.

As you may or may not know, I went over to Eric's place last night for a little pool and the induction of adult libation. I had a great time is all I have the time to say right now. I'll give a full report this evening.

I promise not to look at his site until I've made my post. I want to see if his lies match up to mine. ;)

Mmmm Breakfast.

As I have previously stated, I almost always have the TV on in the background when I'm sitting at my computer. Last night, I was reading through the blogroll, and I happen to catch a glimpse of a commercial for a breakfast cereal.

I think it was for a Post brand, that kind of looked like Fruit Full or something like that. Doesn't matter. I'm not sure if the wonderful advertising executive had in mind what I thought of when I watched this, but it certainly made it memorable.

Picture if you will, a low shot close up of the bowl, chock full of fruit breakfast goodness nearly overflowing, and in the background there is a cardboard half-gallon carton of milk resting on the table, open spout pointed in the direction of the bowl. Then the voiceover tagline: "It's so good even the milk can't wait." Closeup shot of the milk carton spout with a runnel of 2% Grade A homogenized spilling out from the point of the spout and running down the side of the carton. Then a long shot showing the entire "complete breakfast" with the line of liquid continuing down the side of the carton, and slicing through the red "L" in the word Milk.

Now I don't know about you, but the only word that properly describes what went through my mind when seeing this was Bukkake. (If you don't know what that word means, I'm sure that a quick Google search will enlighten you.)

The mere thought of a "white viscous liquid" that spurts out of its container in anticipation, made me cringe at the audacity. Although I can't remember the exact product this thing was hawking, I guess the ad did its job. I'll not soon forget this commercial.

Okay that's it. It's summer.

I don't care what the damn calender says. It's been in the Mid-eighties all week long, the forecast has called for a 25% chance of isolated afternoon thunderstorms since this time last week, and I just saw a damn firefly out in the front yard. If that ain't summer, "it'll harelip the pope". (40 points and a trip to the lightning round for anyone who can guess where I got that quote from.)

Since it's been so cussedly hot and humid lately, I've had to invest in several pairs of shorts. I'm normally not the type of guy who wears a lot of short pants due to...hell I'm not really sure why. I've always just worn jeans or khakies unless I'm at the lake. Weird but true.

I think it may have been a combination of working jobs like construction, rebuilding railroad bearings, and corporate number cruncher, along with the trainng I recieved for the proper attire for riding motorcycles. Work time requires long pants. Leisure time requires long pants. Why own any short pants? It's HOT that's why.

Last Thursday When I was sick, the heat was making things so much worse for me, so the thought ran through my head to get a pair of shorts. I wound up buying 3 pair that night mainly because they were only ten bucks a piece. I went through the first 3 and they were so comfortable that I went and got three more. I can't stop wearing the silly things.

What's next you say? I'm thinking of trying out a speedo.

Another Late Night Post.

I feel kinda guilty for not putting anything up on the site for the last couple of days. I've had stuff to blog about, but just couldn't get it up to do it. I'm one of those "stream of consciousness" types of guys. If I don't react immediately to the stimulus, I'll just sit and mull it over until the urge hits me, or another thing stimulates the same idea. The last couple of days have seen plenty of stimulus, but little time to do them justice. So, I just clam the fuck up.

Anyhow, there is a lot of stuff banging around in my brain, and it'll take a little time to sort it all out. There's some of the things that Bill Whittle has said in his latest essay(s) that have set off a few ideas. The fact that I spent seven and a half hours on the lake yesterday, and didn't even get down my fishing pole at all. Summer has officially arrived in East Tennessee, and all the "ladies" out there are wearing skirts. (what can I say, I AM a man after all) I made an ass of myself in a bar. LOTR ROTK came out on DVD. I've taken to wearing shorts. My "extended family" has been revealed. On and on.

I'll certainly attempt to make up for these posts that never were, but I fear I'lll not be able to do them justice. Good night morning, from a very tired Johnny - Oh.

Where oh where are you tonight?

Stupid damn electronics department! As you all have likely seen before, the average ED has at least one setup of a DVD player out front. They generally have the "latest big release" playing on it, and I have to walk by it at least 8 times a day, and sometimes much more. You can imagine the hell that I went through when The Haunted Mansion was playing there 24/7.

On Thursday of this week, I go walking out from the back room to start my shift, and I happen to see what I immediately recognized as Hee Haw. (I'm not sure if it's stranger that I noticed it, or that I automatically knew what it was.) Since Thursday, I've been dodging a bullet, and that particular projectile smacked me right between the eyes today.

I'm ashamed to say that I was walking down the aisles singing along. If the title hasn't already put the song in your head, see below.

Where Oh where
are you tonight?
Why did you leave me here all aloooone?
I searched the world over and thought I found true love.
You met another and Ptptptpt you were gone.

Now I've got that damn thing bouncing around between my ears, and I have no idea when it will stop. Since the fine ditty above does have a bit of a Blues feel to it (the words anyway), I believe I'll pop a little Stevie Ray Vaughan into the CD player. There ain't nothin' that a little blues can't cure.

Still Alive

Well What do you know? The old immune system comes through after all. It amazes me sometimes that it just hasn't completely failed from overuse, but I guess if you don't use it, you lose it.

I have no idea why I am currently rapping on this keyboard instead of sleeping. I sometimes get bouts of extreme insomnia, and no matter how tired I am, I can't get to sleep. The wheels just turn and turn, and I can't get them to stop. More booze seldom helps, and the sleeping pills (all over the counter) have little to no effect. I just deal with it. That's just the way I'm built.

The absolute worst part of these things is the fact that my mind turns from situation to situation with little or no guidance. Memory, anecdote, experience, professional, personal, mistake, triumph, guilt, pride, greed, humility, responsibility... It just never seems to stop, until it's time for it to stop.

Sometimes it seems that I have an uncanny knack for predicting things when I am in this state. Especially concerning whatever job I am doing at the time. the last company that I worked for is a great example. They are in the "Customer Contact Outsourcing" bidness. For those of you not in the know, this is the practice of one company contracting out all (or most) of their "Customer Contacts" to another company that specializes in it. Things like: Sustomer Service calls, Technical Support calls, Sales calls (both inbound, and the people who interrupt your dinner), and web/email contacts of all the aforementioned stripes. Companies that use outsourcers are ones that you know of. Dell, Microsoft, BellSouth, UPS, American Express, and several others who I can't even think of right now.

I don't want to put a disparaging spin on this at all. If the lines o communication are good between the outsourcer, and the contractor, then this is a fine symbiotic relationship, and both parties (and the customer) can benefit greatly. Conversely, when it is done poorly, it can get to be very poor indeed.

Anyway, I was able to correctly predict that the outsourcer that I worked for would lose its largest client, and shortly become unstable and unprofitable. So I left. (There were other reasons as well, but that was the biggie.) Meanwhile, I still have contacts with people who work for the company that I left, so I get to hear what all is going on. They have scaled the tech support aspects of the "big client" from 3 sites down to 2, the hours of operation from 24/7/365 to 12/7/365, and they just shut down all the inbound and outbound customer service. This client is drying up and blowing away in a huge way.

I'm glad that I predicted it and bugged out, but it sucks that I have to lie awake at night to reap the benefit.

Sickernadog

You know what's no fun? Not eating any solid food in the last 12 hours, that's what. It seems that there is a stomach bug going around, and the damn thing picked my number.

At least I haven't been suffering from the old "green apple quick step." I get to have the stomach cramps that just come out of nowhere. I still worked a full day today, but I really didn't enjoy it.

Every time I walked out into the Greenhouse patio, the heat today hit me like a wall. I generally could stay out there for about ten minutes before the cramps got me to the point of heaving, so I had to keep going back inside to cool back off. But inside, there were several pallets worth of push moweres that had to go up into the steel shelving. No win here people, no win.

Screw it. at least I went to work. I know so many people out there that would have been runnig to the doctor as fast as their widdle legs would carry them. Once the visit to the clinic is over, they would get a slip that says that they can stay out of work for a week or more. Fuck that. Cowboy up, people.

I've been feeling bad for the last two and a half days now, and didn't even buy any "Pink Stuff" until today. If this continues for another week, I may consider a visit to the doc. My immune system works, and I'll always give it a chance to before I rush out for a Pharmaceutical solution to the problem.

Can you tell that I hate doctors?

Stuff I've been neglecting.

First off, Harvey pointed me to this, and I have to say that I'm pretty pleased with my score.

I'm "More Eviler" than Harvey! WooT!

Via SDB there's this. The only problem with "realistic" War games such as this, is what will happen in the High Schools around the country. Instead of Columbine, we'll see things like The Debate Club turn into the UN, The boys in Shop will be the Marines, the "JD's" will be the terrorists (You tell me that blowing up a toilet with an M80 isn't an act of terrorism), Art Class will be the protestors, and the Drama Cub will be France. Would you send your kid's to a school like that?

Tiffany is having a little trouble with critters. She was having a little trouble telling what kind of aminal (not a typo) it was, but I could have told it was a s'kink'y.

Eric keeps asking me to come on over and shoot some pool at his place. After reading about the list of reprobates he has over there, I guess I'll have to go sometime soon. Sounds Damn entertaining. But then again, he's linking to videos of girls in the eight grade, so I'm not sure. Nah. It's fine. That girl is stacked!

Emma is apparrently a druggie and a cyborg. Although Pine Pollen is pretty nasty, I don't believe that it's worth it to you to implant parts by Intel (r) to combat it. I suggest you just quit breathing for a week or two, and you'll be fine. (Your mileage may vary)

Goldie is blogging like a girl. Feh. Just do what I do. Disappear for a couple of days, and come back with a linkfest. Wait. I don't know if it works yet, so take the week, and I'll let you know.

Bill has placed all three of my favorite sports below number one. I'd go up to him and give him a "big time talking to" but he doesn't like strangers, so oh well. I think maybe it's the ass-pimples that mess up his bowling approach, so that's why it's way toward the bottom.

This old bastard is in Costa Rica and I'm not. That is all.

Maura is getting all scientific and shit. Gotta love an edumacated chick. "Isopropyl Methylphosphonofluoridate" good lowered, now my head hurts. I hope it's not that stuff causing it. If I must wind up "cross-eyed and drooling" on my keyboard, I prefer it to be bourbon as the cause.

That's all for today kids. I'll catch you on the flip-flop.

Pool tournament.

I played an eight ball tournament this evening. It was a "slop" game, but I still managed to suck inordinate amounts of "ass."

I only came in 6th in a group of 26. :(

It could have been worse though. I oculd have cared about the outcome.

I went in there planning to lose, and I did so, but not completely. I'll accept it, anyday, anytime.

Never ever answer your phone.

Especially if it's work calling. I'm sitting here, ten after eleven in the morning, just getting up the gumption to write something to this site, and it happens.

So off I go, on the only weekend day off I've had in two months. Sigh.

The Sopranos is really off-beat tonight. I'm not sure that this is one of the better episodes. Hopefully Deadwood won't let me down.

I had a really shitty day at work, so I'm just gonna sit here, drink some bourbon, and veg out on HBO.

I'll try for some actual content tomorrow.

Night folks.

Diagnosis.

Yesterday afternoon, I took my lunch break at three. I get an hour for lunch, and I only live about a mile from where I work, so I get to come home and eat. When I pulled into the driveway, I noticed that the roommate's car is still here (not strange, he doesn't go into work until four) along with the roommate's wife's car (she normally doesn't get home until five thirty or so. She caught a bug, and came home early).

So, I get into my third bite of the leftover baby-back ribs that I'm having, and the couple goes out the front door talking about the fact that the brake lights on her car don't work. I'm not saying that they are technically challenged here, but their lack of education in the field of automotive repair shines like the light at the end of a tunnel.

Johnny - Oh to the rescue! Fuses are all okay, open trunk and check bulbs, and they're in working order, so the obvious solution is to take it to the shop right? No no no! There I am, limboing under the steering column to see if the switch that's attached to the brake pedal is being properly disengaged when the pedal is depressed. Looks to be functioning mechanically, so obviously (to me) the switch is defective and needs to be replaced.

I return to the house to give them them the verdict. After I tell that "it's not a fuse or a bulb, it's a switch," the RMW responds with "Oh shit. That's going to be more expensive." My reply was: "Yeah. Instead of a buck-fifty, it's likely to be more like ten or fifteen bucks." The roommate asked if I was sure this was the problem, and I told him that I was "positive", in a Darth Vader "I find your lack of faith disturbing" kind of way.

After a quick call to the local parts emporium, I found that the parts were readily available, so I went on back to work with the promise that I would fix it when I got home.

Fast Forward through the day, and I arrive back at the old homestead. 35 minutes later (that's including travel time to and from the parts store), $11.49 in hard cash spent, and her brake lights are functioning properly once again.

They were both ready to take the car in to somebody's shop. Feh, I tell them. They could have spent well over $100 getting somethng like this fixed at a professional repair place. All I'm trying to say here is: Never doubt the wisdom of the "Shade-Tree Mechanic." It'll save you time, and it'll save you money.

My shade-tree license is up to speed. How about yours?

I Like Disco!

So I bought a new CD today yesterday. It is another of the "Best Of" type of things, that are seen from the bands from the seventies. (Good Lowered am I an anachronism or what?)

So I'm prettey tickled that I finally have a copy of a song that's been running througn my head for awhile, so I let my roomate listen to it. His commentary is "Oh, the disco one." I get all defensive, and call it the "funk one" but upon further reflection, I think he's correct.

The song I was playing for him was written in 1978 (according to the liner's inside the CD cover), and it got me remembering that I was only seven at the time. I think I heard the tune on the bus while traversing from home to school, and the radio was either blaring it at a thousand decibels, or it just said something to me. (It's likely that it just mentioned the state that I was born in.)

So I was "free associating" at the time, and thought about another song. This one was released in the year "2K", by a group that everyone knows of, but are afraid to admit that they actually like. The song is titled "This is just where I came in" by....

the Bee Gee's. I recall that I was hanging out with a DJ (of a local radio station) at the time, and I tried to get her to play the tune on her station, but her response was "I'm not playing anything by the Bee Gee's on MY radio station."

That was the very first insight into her character. The fact that she hadn't even heard the song never even entered into her mind, only the stigma of the band.

The disc that I purchased today reminds me a lot of my youth, and it includes the cut that sealed the deal. "Back in the New York Groove" By KISS. I just don't care, this stuff just makes my blood run, and my heart beat.

I like disco.

I guess I'm a "walking, talking" anachronism after all.

F!@k it Dude. Let's go bowlin'.

I got invited out to go bowling this evening after work, and I'm just now arriving at the old homestead feeling little worse for wear. I outaged the nearest comepetitor by at least eleven years, but I still managed to win the most games with the highest average. The "kids" got a little um, tipsy before heading on out to the lanes, and I was merely feeling a little good. Pretty much the same amount of beer consumed in the same amount of time. There's something to be said for practice.

Nonetheless, I had a great time, and so did everyone else. There was a couple of gentlemen there that wound up getting a little too deep into their cups, but luckily for everyone involved, they all had rides with folks who had not been imbibing to the Nth degree.

I know that I'm too old to be running around with these children, but I'm still glad that I can. (And I can drive my Damn-Self home when the party is over.)

Obligatory Daily Post.

did you see my last post? Good Lowered! There are more typos and misspellings in that thing than in the last umpty-posts. Thank goodness the point got across. I thought about going back and correcting them, but I decided that I'm just too lazy tonight. Maybe later.

I feel sort of guilty about not posting any serious, or even humorous content today, but I just can't help it. I'm trying to make sure that I stay more of a Thinker than a Linker. i think that's why I type directly into the MT interface. I want to make sure that whatever goes into this page remains pure. No apologies, and no retractions (unless I'm completely fucked up, and someone points it out to me).

The only thing that I thought of to post about was the fact that I mowed the lawn today with a mulching mower. I may turn that into a post tomorrow. Who knows?

I wonder if this holds water?

So there I was. Roughly seven-tenth's of the way through assembling the awning that I spoke of in my previous post embarrassment, and this thought just popped into my head. "Isn't there a perceived link between Atheism and Liberalism?" (Don't ask me, I don't know where they come from either) From there the wheels have been turning. It makes sense to me when I look at it.

Let's just say that we all agree that atheism is rooted in logic, and religiosness is rooted in faith. I think that every human being has to have a little bit of both logic and faith to get along in life. After a person makes the decision that they are an atheist, what now? They suddenly have a whole lot of logic, but a distinct dearth of faith. If you think of this in terms of a percentage (say 50% L and 50% F, or 70%L and 30% F), then they have a certain part of themselves that needs to put faith in something, anything. So the "search"begins.

They wind up casting about all over the place trying to find something that fills the void. Crystals, communes, the environment, starving kids in Africa, pick your pleasure, or make up your own. Drugs (if you are talking about the hippy-type liberal) are therre to make the void more bearable, but don't fix the problem, and make them even more susceptible to "suggestion" from just about any source.

There is a distinct difference between the two sides here, and that is that the religious folks have a safety net to turn to. Instead of jumping up and down and wailing aobut the fate of the Universe, they (the more well-adjusted of them) can just sit back and say "It's HIS Will," and get on with their life. If not that approach, then they can say a prayer, and then say "It's in HIS Hands," which has the same effect. Watching TV is so much easier without all that guilt getting in the way of the plot of the "Friends" finale. The BIG GUY will handle it, is all they need to know.

Atheists don't have this sort of thing to fall back on, so a lot of them turn to the "We have to DO something" type of thinking. There's nothing else out there that will take the guilt away, so they resort to activism, and nutjobbery. Anything to fill the void of faith. Once the void is filled, whatever they chose to fill it with becomes their religion. If this person has a high "faith percentage", then they get to the same point as most of the "religious" wackos. Nothing you say to them will get through. Might as well talk to the wall, as it's more pleasant, and you get a lot better quality of conversation.

This is the type of stuff that rattles around inside my head while I'm doing menial labor, or driving for a long time.

Make any sense?

I know I've been quiet for two days

Jebus, I hate doing posts like this, but I feel that I must. Things have been a bit crazy over the last couple of days, so I haven't been able to post like I've wanted to. I won't go into details, but let's just say that I've been spending the last two days servicing a couple of different women. (One was a lady who wanted me to assemble an awning for her mother, and the other was the one who gave birth to me.)

Time is currently at a premium, but don't worry, the wheels are still turning in my brain, and I've got an (at least one more) idea that came to me that I want to blog about.

Hopefully you will enjoy it, tomorrow later today. Work at 7 am, this morning. Ugh, I'm tired.

Cuter than socks on a rooster

So I'm reading through the old blogroll, and come across Marty's latest post, and this made me think of a few things to consider.

This is the part of his post that got me going:

Consider gun laws for a moment. In my state and city, i have the right to purchase and own a firearm. In the state next door, those citizens have a right to purchase and own a firearm. In New York City, no citizen has a right to purchase or own a firearm. It all seems very straightforward, until you cross state lines to try to buy a gun -- you can't -- federal law prohibits that, presumably because you might take it home to New York City, where it would be illegal.

This, despite a constitutional amendment guaranteeing the right of all citizens to keep and bear firearms!

So will a Federal Marriage Amendment settle the issue of gay marriage once and for all, or will leaving it up to the states clear things up?

That got me thinking about why the Federal Gummint is likely to persue an anti-gay marriage amendment, and is also likely to never enforce the Second Amendment; it doesn't serve their/its interests to. You see it's all about power and money, and where it lies.

There is a simple, fiscal reason for there to be an anti-gay marriage amendment, and that is that when married couples file their taxes jointly, they pay less than when they file seperately. (I've never been married, so I've never experienced this. If I'm dead wrong, then shoot me in the face with a bazooka, or something.) It's all about the money that the government gets from the taxpayer's, which is where they get the power to change things.

Generally "right-leaning" folks have the benefit of a particular moral stance to their arguments for this amendment, but the fact remains that they are a part of the same beauracracy as the more "left-leaning" folks. The folks on the "left" get to wail and gnash their teeth, pander to their base, and then lose out to the "Evil Republicans" because that's the way the game is played. Both sides know that without the money, they have no political power, so they will do their dance, and the amendment will pass.

As for gun rights, they are not being enforced due to the other type of power; physical force. There is a certain truth to the old wheeze about "Colt made them equal." The beauracracy does not wish to perceive itself as anywhere near equal to the people at large. They are better than everyone else, due to the fact that they are allowing people to create laws that deny them their "Colt." They also have sovereignty over the people who have real "Assault Weapons."

I'm not saying that anyone up there is actively trying to take over the country, but I belive that it makes them feel better to believe that they actually could.

Neither of these "memes" are a good reason for doing or not doing anything, but due to human nature, I can't believe that there's anything else that might happen.

Update: Italic tag now closed all thanks to Susie.

When bleeding from both feet, do not reload.

Well, I've decided that from this point forward, the titles to my posts will no longer have anything to do with what's actually in the post. Judging from my last post, this should be effective. I write three pages of text, with the title of "I've got nothin'." Who knows? It just might work.

I'm not sure why

but if I'm channel-surfing, due to their not being anything on I want to watch, and I come across one of three activities, I have to watch them. They are almost always being aired on ESPN2.

The first one is bowling. Doesn't matter whether it's males or females, big or small tournaments, or if it has any faces that I even recognise. Watching these folks roll a big old ball down the lane, the pins flying to and fro, and the consistancy of these players, is just astounding to me. I've played in a "Planet Rock" league, and I was so proud that my team came in next to last. (Hey, at least we beat out one team. That's enough for me.)

The second item on the list is poker. The "World Series of Poker" is such great fun to watch. I'm not going to bother going into the mechanics of the game of Texas Hold'em, but suffice it to say, that it has quite a few intricacies that keep me interested. Also, there is something a little voyeuristic about the fact that I can see what everyone is holding. Watching someone just bluff his pants off. is wonderful entertainment. I currently play online at Popular Poker. One of these day's I may actually try with real money, but as it stands, the "play money" games are still fun.

Lastly, there's pool. I can't help it, I LOVE that game. Eight ball, nine ball, straight pool, or trick shots, all have what it takes to hold my interest. One of my favorite movies of all time is The Hustler. So far, due to schedule difficulties, I haven't had a chance to enter one of the tournaments held at my favorite sports bar. I used to play there all the time, and I kinda miss it. There are two things that I dislike about this guy, first: he can do this, and second: he lives too far away for me to join in.

Well, after talking about it, I may have figured out why I watch these things. I think it might be because I like to do all of them.

I've got nothin'

But, I've kinda made a promise to myself that I would post something every day, so I guess I'll just ramble at the keyboard and see what comes out.

I've had an idea about a post that I wnated to put up, but I just can't seem to get it fleshed out so that it says exactly what I want it to. I've titled it "Lowest Common Denominator", because I wanted to point out how rules are being written for people well below that station.

The biggest problem has been trying to come up with the "ideal" situation that really drives the point home. There's just too many things out there that this applies to. Warnings on coffee mugs and superman capes, bicycle helmets, gun laws, taxes, anti-war nuts, the media, the list just goes on and on.

I read a report (sorry I lost the link) that stated that the average IQ for citizens in the United States is 98. This is by no means a low number, and nothing to get all pissed off about. However, we are creating rules and policies that appear to be using a baseline IQ of 48. Why on Earth are we doing this? I think it's all about where you put the emphasis, Lowest instead of Common.

This trend is very disquieting to me. As we continue to roll over to every idiot out there who does something stupid, we are gradually dumbing down our society. If some kid jump off a building because he thinks his Superman cape gives him the ability to fly, I say fine. Thank you very much for getting out of the gene pool before you had a chance to procreate. I do believe in Darwinism, as it is so easy for me to see that it works.

So, now that we are putting all these foolish rules in place (and in my experience people on the lower levels of intelligence follow them without question), we are ensuring that these folks neither A) are pushed to raise their lot in life by making a few mistakes and actually learning something, nor B) making sure that these people don't spread their flawed genes and become a larger portion of the population at large. We are keeping these folks in the population, and by doing that we are gradually making the citizenry (taken as a whole) more stupid.

I'd like to be able to stop this slide I see going on, but I don't hold out much hope. I'm not sure when we will hit a critical mass, but the more I read the news, I fear that we are danger close, and may be already over the line. There are so many people out there that are afraid to think for themselves, so afraid to fuck up once in awhile, that they just lemming right along. I can't stand being around that type of person, but we all are forced to be around them.

Maybe we can all pull together and turn this thing around. Bloggers seem to be showing the way out of this downfall. I'll keep doing my part, you all do yours.

Chow Yun-Fat roolz!

So, do you remember the movie The Replacement Killers? If you do, you might recall the music that was playing at the beginning of the movie. Nightclub scene, damn near a rave going on, and our hero casually strolling across the dance floor? If not, then you have no frame of reference, and you "are like a child who wanders into the middle of a movie." (twenty points and a trip to the bonus round to the person who gets that reference)

The song is called "There is Hope", the band is "The Crystal Method", and the album is "Vegas."

If you are a fan of a "Bass Lick", this is definately for you. I guess you could call it Industrial Techno, but I'm not sure that they would fit into any niche at all. This is not a band that you could listen to "Live" as there is no way to do what they do on a stage. Every sound comes from some machine or other, so the show would be a couple of guys up there pressing buttons and moving sliders. Not exactly an AC/DC moment if you know what I mean.

You also may have heard this band and you didn't even know it. Once the GAP decided to make commercials, they had a few featuring the "Hip" kids. There was one (that aired five or six years ago) that featureed kids rolling around on skateboards and rollerblades that has the cut "Get Busy Child" as the background music. The words "I guess I didn't know" may help to jog your memory of it.

I've had the privilege of hearing this type of music as it's meant to be heard. A buddy of mine (Fellow Mini-Van driver) had a competition-level stereo in his vehicle. I'm not saying whether or not it was all for show, but he had sixteen twelve inch woofers in the back of this thing. I'm not sure if he could power an entire city block with the power he was putting through those speakers, but it was likely to be pretty close.

There was a time that we were showing off his "system" to a few uninitiated people outside of work. The van was parked eight rows away from the building, and the "TCM" cd was in the deck. It took roughly four minutes for the security guard to come out and say "Hey can you turn it down? You're rattling my monitors inside."

Geez I miss Phil.

Anyhow, this is what is blazing through my headphones at the moment.

If I still had a bike, and I had a way to pipe this music into my helmet, I'm pretty sure that this is the music I would die to.

I might be (slightly) unethical.

But I'm not sure. You see, I blatantly break company policy every time the opportunity crops up. There is a sign in the breakroom that says I shouldn't do it at any time, but do I listen? Noooo.

I live in the "Raised Pinky" part of Knoxville. It used to be called Concorde before Urban Sprawl swallowed the community, and the city annexed it. There's a lot of the "old money" out this side of town, so I run into a lot of people with more money than sense. I like that trait in them, as it keeps me in a job.

The retailer that I work for is a major national chain, with quite a few locations, but the one I'm at is the closest one to where these folks live. Therefore, I get the honor and privilage of loading mulch, potting soil, top soil, play sand, landscaping stones, and pavers into the back of a lot of Mercedes Benz's, and Lincoln SUV's.

This service that I perform is part of my job, and is nothing special, but there is a certain percentage of my clientele that decides that I deserve a gratuity for doing my job. Even though the sign says not to, I invariably receive those offerings with a heart-felt "Thank You."

You all (probably) know that the retail bidness isn't exactly what you would call a "High Paying Industry." I'm not exactly destitute, but it wouldn't take very much to get me there, so anything that folks want to hand over to me, I'll take it.

Maybe it's a little unethical (not to mention against Company policy), but without it, there'd be days that I couldn't go to the bar to let off steam. I go every other week, and more if the funds allow. Without these little excursions, I'm sure I'd wind up on a roof with a magnum before too long.

Remember to Tip out there people. "Guns don't kill people, Disgruntled retail workers kill people."

"Why Not?" Indeed

Looks like the Uncle has run across another of those "Grab nearest (item), flip to (page,track,etc) and blog about it, deals. I kinda liked this idea, so here goes.

I'm sitting here lonely like a a broken man I served my time doin' the the best I can. Walls and bars they surround me, but I don't want no sympathy.

See if you can figure that one out. Great band, with a lot of good music, but how this one wound up on a "Hits" album I'll never know.

I promise to post stuff...tomorrow.

Sorry folks. This is what happens when "life" attacks.

More on the morrow.