Taking Up the Gauntlet for the Cause of Shit Mountain's Delicate Ecosystem

Seriously, this Michael Vick shit has got to stop. Cnn.com actually had it taking precedence over the resignation of Alberto Gonzales yesterday.

This story is out of control and I blame all parties. For one, Michael Vick fucked up. Training dogs to fight is cruel and he should be punished for it. Have you ever tried to even be near a dog that has been trained to fight? They're not friendly dogs, and they become worthless as pets, because they'll bite your kibbles and bits off when you're just trying to get out their way. So that part of the story should be put to rest. Anyone thinking that dogfighting is acceptable is living in the past.

As for the attention the story is receiving: The NAACP and others have charged there are racist motivations involved and that the story does not warrant this much attention. They're right about it not warranting attention, especially headline-level attention. But he's not being singled out because he's a black athlete; he's being singled out because he's a rich athlete. Again, this is a matter of celebrity and class, not race.

Until we realize that, we will not address our fucked up obsession with celebrity and how anything that some celebrity does is news. Why can't we just have news? Why does the media have to reduce all information to the same level of importance? By providing an "entertainment" portion to the news, and then giving it near-equal time and imbibing it with the same amount of journalistic effort (given, not much) as they do the resignation of an attorney general, it lowers the value of both. It's kind of like mixing religion and politics.

The NFL is also fucked up for being more concerned with Vick's gambling than his butchering of man's best friends. I guess dog fighting doesn't conflict with their image though, so only the gambling is bad for business.


But there I go, just filling the Internet with more shit by talking about it, creating ever more layers to the nonsense, kinda like this sedimentary rock formation seen here:



See, layer upon layer of shit is added, and with the ever-decreasing timespan it takes for media stories to flourish and take on lives of their own, what we create, essentially, is a Shit Mountain.

The question becomes, "Who is King Fuck of Shit Mountain?"

Actually, no, that's not the question. I just like that phrase. To be honest, it's not really like sedimentary rock formations. Not at all. It's more of a really lazy, self-sustaining loop. But in the spirit of lazy journalism, I'm just going to let that idea drop.


And finish with some bullet points.

1. Lubbock and Texas Tech are so much better, bearable even, when all the students are gone. Walking on campus today reminds me why I support nuclear armament. (And yeah, you CAN hug with nuclear arms, it's just not very cuddly, not something you'd want to spoon with perhaps)

2. Man of the Year starring Robin Williams was not what I expected, and it also was not terrible, something I also didn't expect. What a glowing review huh? Not terrible.

3. Dane Cook also needs to stop. As does the absurd level of whoring out of the main myspace page after you sign in. I realize the News Corp. juggernaut now owns this little site, but can't it be a little less gaudy?

random...
We are now voluntarily doing the work of marketers - see, social networking sites are datamining opportunities. By willingly listing our favorite books, movies, tv shows, etc., we are offering ourselves and our interests up for easy cataloguing. I'm not here to suggest paranoid delusions of marketers targetting people individually, but rather we are eliminating the need for any sort of market research. Consider facebook's hyperlinking of information in those categories of personal interest...(and we should be making these assholes' jobs harder, not easier)

As much positive talk there is in regard to people being empowered through the Internet, user-generated content making dents in traditional corporate media, and new ways to express ourselves via things like social networking profiles, there doesn't seem to be much critical analysis of what's going on. Sure, we're expressing ourselves, but isn't it typically more mundane bullshit? Aren't we just spending time delicately crafting advertisements of ourselves? We're essentially crafting ourselves into a socially-networked brand. We are reducing ourselves to advertisements I fear.

And lastly, on a personal note...

I've been kind of quiet about this, as I wasn't sure until recently, but yeah, I'll be leaving Lubbock in a week. I was going to write a long thing about shit I'll miss, shit I won't miss and make a whole open letter to Lubbock, and maybe i still will, but for now I'll just say that I'm moving back to Alpine to get in touch with my inner beard. More news to come on that. I'm sure you will wait patiently by your computer for updates...

Reading is for Suckers

Books are the quietest and most constant of friends:
they are the most accessible and wisest of counsellors,
and the most patient of teachers.
Charles W. Eliot

Whenever the people are well-informed, they can be trusted with their own government.
Thomas Jefferson

From the Associated Press:
One in four adults say they read no books at all in the past year, according to an Associated Press-Ipsos poll released Tuesday. Of those who did read, women and seniors were most avid, and religious works and popular fiction were the top choices.

So, even the people that ARE reading are falling into the sad latter category of the following quote:

I divide all readers into two classes: Those who read to remember and those who read to forget.
William Phelps

Great, great news America. We wonder why China's going to make us our slaves in a few years.

Other depressing points from the study:

People from the South read a bit more than those from other regions...

Holy shit, really? But wait...

...mostly religious books and romance novels.

Oh okay, that makes more sense.

What else can you tell me to brighten my day, oh most depressing poll of polls?

The Bible and religious works were read by two-thirds in the survey, more than all other categories. Popular fiction, histories, biographies and mysteries were all cited by about half, while one in five read romance novels. Every other genre -- including politics, poetry and classical literature -- were named by fewer than five percent of readers.

But wait, television can pretty much tell me all I need to know about those three boring genres, right? Right? I can understand the concept of blowback by watching two pundits, one extremely left and one extremely right, given two minutes to yell over one another on Fox News, right? Right?

(personal side note - at least one, maybe two of the Hastings stores in Lubbock no longer have poetry sections. However, they do have a fairly large subgenre of religious fiction that is called, Religious Romance. I have yet to put my mind back together after thinking about this concept, nor did I have the courage to explore this abomination.)

(2nd personal side note - I was in Barnes and Noble yesterday and overheard an older couple, probably mid-60s, with the wife obviously wanting to be in the store and the husband looking dragged-along, provide the following gem:

Husband, after seeing the title of the section of books to which he was headed: "Religious Fiction, huh? That's a pretty good name for it. That's what most of it is.")

Back to the story, and the final point of interest:

There was even some political variety evident, with Democrats and liberals typically reading slightly more books than Republicans and conservatives.

That's really too good. Immediately I wanted to jump on an "I told you so" bandwagon, but making a partisan issue of this probably isn't the best thing to do. We really all need to be reading more.

That being said, the head of the book publishing company's trade group has a pretty awesome response:

The Karl Roves of the world have built a generation that just wants a couple slogans: "No, don't raise my taxes, no new taxes," Pat Schroeder, president of the American Association of Publishers, said in a recent interview. "It's pretty hard to write a book saying, 'No new taxes, no new taxes, no new taxes' on every page."

Not to be outwitted, White House spokesman Tony Fratto actually had a response. Personally, I can only venture to guess that this study ruffled conservatives' feathers, otherwise why would the White House even comment?
Either way, he said this:

Obfuscation usually requires a lot more words than if you simply focus on fundamental principles, so I'm not at all surprised by the loquaciousness of liberals.

Obfuscation? Loquaciousness? Boy, thems some mighty big ol' words aint they? (Maybe he's just a fan of alliteration?)

It seems spokesman Fratto briefly forgot to pander to his base. Doesn't he know their vocabulary level? The way I see it, those two words in that quote reveal an insecurity covered over by a brief foray into vocabulary above a fifth-grade reading level.


Overall the poll reveals that we are a nation dependent on new forms of media to provide us information about the world. Television and the Internet are the dominant forms, and while the latter has managed to at least provide a bit of democracy to news dissemination, it is still not the best medium for gaining true knowledge. Access to this information superhighway in no way assumes it is accompanied by depth.

Without going on too far of a tangent, I'll say that the Internet is a horizontally-based medium. Instead of moving deeper and deeper into the logic, reason or weaving together of an argument or story, Internet users tend to skim things, leaping instantly to tangents or outright changes of subject via hyperlinks, banner ads, etc. It's almost like a side-scrolling video game, for lack of a better metaphor.

Books meanwhile engage you much more deeply. This I would describe as a vertical medium, allowing for a more complex and nuanced form of knowledge acquisition. A reader is able to follow longer explanations that, in contrast to Fratto's charge of "loquaciousness," do provide much more context and explanation than any other medium. Let's face it, shit's complicated, and books are the only way to go.


Maybe the following quotes give ideas better than my own:

We are drowning in information but starved for knowledge.
John Naisbitt

That says it quite well, but let's add this depressing one from George Bernard Shaw:
Democracy is a device that ensures we shall be governed no better than we deserve.

Indeed, I think we truly are getting what we deserve. A nation of fools will only elect fools as their leaders.

But let's finish with something fun, shall we?

The more that you read,
the more things you will know.
The more that you learn,
the more places you'll go.
Dr. Seuss

Stop the Presses! President Bush is a Pussy!

For all the branding of President Bush as a no-nonsense, brush-clearing Cowboy, tough guy, hard ass, "bring it on terrorists" war president, you would think that he could handle a couple of liberal longhairs (hippies, in case you're unfamiliar with the colloquialism) with t-shirts and loud voices.

Released today under supboena to the ACLU, the "Presidential Advance Manual" provides presidential staffers a detailed list of instructions on how to deal with protestors.

Basically, it's a how-to on keeping protestors out of public presidential appearances. (Although, as you will see, how truly public are they?)

From the Washington Post:

Among other things, any event must be open only to those with tickets tightly controlled by organizers. Those entering must be screened in case they are hiding secret signs. Any anti-Bush demonstrators who manage to get in anyway should be shouted down by "rally squads" stationed in strategic locations. And if that does not work, they should be thrown out.

So insurgents can "bring it on," but rascally anti-war peaceniks are hidden from sight? Interesting, but this next quote really illuminates Bush's pussy-ocity:

But that does not mean the White House is against dissent -- just so long as the president does not see it. In fact, the manual outlines a specific system for those who disagree with the president to voice their views. It directs the White House advance staff to ask local police "to designate a protest area where demonstrators can be placed, preferably not in the view of the event site or motorcade route."

Out of sight, out of mind for the leader of our country. It appears, despite collecting all that "political clout" from the American voters in 2004, Bush only wants to be a president to those few people who still think he's competent. He's running the country on an invitation-only attitude.

This really isn't news - the micromanaging of Bush's public appearances - but it is news that the White House went so far as to create a top-secret manual for this curtailing of free speech. The manual was only released as part of a lawsuit filed on behalf of two people arrested for refusing to cover their anti-Bush T-shirts at a Fourth of July speech at the West Virginia State Capitol in 2004.

The lawsuit was filed by Jeffery and Nicole Rank, who attended the Charleston event wearing shirts with the word "Bush" crossed out on the front; the back of his shirt said "Regime Change Starts at Home," while hers said "Love America, Hate Bush." Members of the White House event staff told them to cover their shirts or leave, according to the lawsuit. They refused and were arrested, handcuffed and briefly jailed before local authorities dropped the charges and apologized. The federal government settled the First Amendment case last week for $80,000, but with no admission of wrongdoing.

People often complain that modern wars are waged by the men in suits who sit comfortably in their peaceful capitals, and we often ask rhetorically why, if these men are so adamant on vanquishing a particular foe, they don't lead the charge themselves. Bush and Cheney can send troops to the Baghdad meat grinder, but why don't they put on a uniform and stand on the front lines with the troops?

But it's mindbogglingly beyond that now. The aforementioned rhetoric probably is a fanciful notion that is merely a nostalgia for leaders like George Washington. But as for Bush, not only will he never stand on the front lines of war, he seems incapable or unwilling to even stand on the front lines of reality.

Part of me wonders if Bush is truly a bastard and a pussy, or if he is more like Britney Spears (or any other pre-conceived and test-marketed bands) in that he is a carefully crafted brand, always needing extreme care. He's almost like a child, one whose parents want to shield it from the harsh cruelties of reality. It's tough to say, and tougher to know which one is more dangerous.

Link to the Washington Post story here.

On another note:
Seriously, there is so much shit that's pissing me off in the news the last few days (i think i'm off my regular pill-taking regimen), and so many personal existential thoughts that my mind and hands can't even seem to get in sync long enough to write about it all. I'll probably end up having some sort of in-blog breakdown, so stay tuned!

Disclaimer(s)

Disclaimer to the Disclaimer: I've decided to abstain from order, lineality, logical flows, attempts at objectivity or formal structure, or even the best diction. Basically, to borrow from a friend's new blog, these will be (perhaps always have been) for not much more than practice. I think I want to be a writer, and this will be a "place" for raw material, exercises, flights of fancy, etc.


Disclaimer: Not that my blogs' strong points have ever been coherency or consistent logic (the leaps of logic are less leaps, and more teleportations), I don't plan on making a lot more sense with these. Maybe I'm lazy, maybe I've finally killed the last few brain cells that enabled me to string ideas together and make sense of anything. Really though, I consider my mental state the only obvious and reasonable reaction to the 21st century American environment.

So, I guess dearest reader, consider most/all future blogs like an improvisational jazz performance (i know, bold claim, but just follow me here) in being aware that things may not always be pretty, may not flow or even sync up in a way that makes sense, but every once in a while, on some nights and moments, things just hit right. Maybe things get in a good groove for just a minute or two before it all breaks back down into free sounds, untethered to logic/normal rhythm, operating on nothing but feeling or the intensity of certain artistic/whimsical choices...

i watched an ant today carrying something much larger than itself. it made me start singing jay-z's big pimpin to myself, maybe a little to the ant, too. and then i felt terribly lonely. i finished my front porch cigarette, went inside and left the ants to the cracks in the driveway.

We've Been Watching Wrestling Videos Again...

I reprint here, for your consideration as our new national anthem, Hulk Hogan's theme song, "Real American." Keep in mind that legislation would be passed to require an enemy combatant receive an irish whip, boot to the face, and leg drop during every public rendition. (I realize that's probably pretty unreasonable, but let's pretend that we live in a future world where guantanamo prisoners are rented out for purposes like these, in order to fund more anti-terrorist, baby-saving surveillance technologies. See, basically, the private sector would be introduced to guantanamo, and corporations could use prisoners as slave labor, Hollywood stunt doubles, legdrop recipients, etc.) (Or maybe we could just legdrop a liberal, because Ann Coulter says they're pretty much the same as a terrorist.)

Sorry for the near-tangential prologue there. Moving on...

(Read it aloud, with gusto; it'll keep those "colors from running.")

I am a real American, Fight for the rights of every man,
I am a real American, fight for what's right, fight for your life!

When it comes crashing down, and it hurts inside,
ya' gotta take a stand, it don't help to hide,
Well, you hurt my friends, and you hurt my pride,
I gotta be a man; I can't let it slide,
I am a real American, Fight for the rights of every man,
I am a real American, fight for what's right, fight for your life!

I feel strong about right and wrong,
And I don't take trouble for very long,
I got something deep inside of me, and courage is the thing that keeps us free,
I am a real American, Fight for the rights of every man,
I am a real American, fight for what's right, fight for your life!

Well you hurt my friends, and you hurt my pride,
I gotta be a man; I can't let it slide,
I am a real American, Fight for the rights of every man,
I am a real American, fight for what's right, fight for your life!
I am a real American, Fight for the rights of every man,
I am a real American, fight for what's right, fight for your life!



I consider it a major military and foreign policy blunder by Bush that he did not declare "Real American" the new anthem on September 14 as he famously stood on that pile of rubble. When he addressed the workers via bullhorn and said "I can hear you. The rest of the world hears you. And the people who knocked down these buildings will hear all of us soon," he should have added "and they'll also hear this sweet Rick Derringer tune about being a real american. And it's gonna be fucking loud, too," the workers responding with a resounding, energetic and fluctuating chant of "USA, USA! Hogan, Hogan! USA, USA!"

And let's face it, that Francis Scott Key shit-spangled banner song or whatever is sooo 1800s. It's your fucking grandpappy's anthem, and we need a powerful, hip young message that lets the evildoers know we're not gonna let shit slide. Oh no, "when it comes crashing down...we fight for what's right," even if we're not totally sure what that is. (Although, I've been told it's the right to buy a shitload of flags and suddenly rediscover blind patriotism as a replacement for political awareness and participation in democracy.)


Come on America, get your shit together, quit being a pussy, and write your congressman to tell them the next time you put your right hand over your heart, you want to be singing this:

Buddy Holly’s Post-Apocalyptic CageMatch 3000

I'm working on a new series of post-apocalyptically themed adventures occurring in a Lubbock gone mad with lawlessness and impossibly harsh conditions. It stars a formerly cryogenically frozen Buddy Holly as he fights to become the new Lord of Lubbock and save humanity. There will probably be cage matches. Oh, and astute cultural observations. Gotta have some of those.

I already came up with a photo of the thawed Buddy Holly and his sidekick, Ritchie Valens. Both were frozen by the government to be revived later in order to save rock and roll. Or, rebuild humanity amid a radiated, violently upturned world. Whichever came first. As you can tell, both were intravaneously fed steroids during their frozen state.

I guess I'm shooting for a mix of Mad Max, professional wrestling (hence the bodies and tag-team championship belts provided by former 80s greats Road Warriors Hawk and Animal), and uh...cultural and media criticism. You know, lowbrow and highbrow clashing to create something absurd. Here's the image:




I know you're not really supposed to share stuff that's still in the creation/idea stage but I was so excited and, as the song goes, I just can't hide it. Who knows if I'll actually get motivated to write a short story or two about this. Writing some fiction has been on my list, and all I can seem to motivate myself to do is complain sarcastically about life and politics. I'm ready to just create something strange on its own, as opposed to being just commentary on something else.

Josh Justice Announces his Run for President, A Nation Swoons

And then, suddenly and without warning, I was 24 years old, goals leaping into vision and glimmering with clarity, youthful bad habits shed for the prim and proper fashion of responsible adulthood, life on the straight and narrow, an upper management position practically looking for me, dental benefits now certainly within reach, the thrill of being a responsible, tax-paying citizen finally guiding my way.

That's right - no more daydreaming, loitering on the Internet or drunken capers for this former layabout. No more drinking at 5 pm and watching marathons of Walker, Texas Ranger or The Two Coreys until I nod off with potato chip debris in my beard, chest and lap. Lazy, directionless, aimlessly adrift, motivationally-atrophied life no more!

Nothing but a serious effort from now on, a grown man marching boldly toward a goal. Vices and distractions be damned!

Confidence found! Inspiration discovered crawling with life beneath the upturned rock of sloth!

A winning attitude radiated from my newly purchased business-casual outfit!

Lust finally redirected toward the true satisfaction of overachieving!


Hell, maybe I'll start going to church again, donating part of my money from the no-doubt-millions I'll be diving into like Scrooge McDuck, to Jesus. Although I've heard he'd just turn around and donate it to the Republican party.

But wait! I'll be joining the Republican party! Yeah, now that I'm gonna be a big time businessman with stock options and outsourced, third-world labor at my disposal, I've gotta go with the Grand Ol' Party! These shoulders o' mine are gonna be rubbing with shoulders of CEOs, VIPs and other acronymed individuals.

Yep, I woke up today and BAM!, suddenly I didn't want to go to the bar anymore. Oh no, heavens no. I wanted to jump in the car and speed on over to a resume specialist so I can maximize the effectiveness of my carefully orchestrated diction to explain my previous jobs' responsibilities. See? I'm already getting better at verbiage! Boy, adulthood: this is gonna be a piece of cake.

Next thing you know, I'll be living in the suburbs, shopping for turtlenecks at the mall, forwarding office jokes to coworkers and buying an SUV with television screens that fluidly descend from overhead compartments.

Won't you join me, kids? I can already tell it's gonna be a veritable feast, with heaping helpings of self-control, stability and seriousness. The three scrumptious S's. Oh, and sprinkle a dash of commitment in there somewhere for some spicy flavor. MMMmmm, now that's what we call the tasty stew of adult life. Yum!

Or perhaps a metaphor more accurate than some goulash would be a white-knuckled thrill ride through the sexy, debaucherous underworld of documents, deadlines and dependability. The three devilish D's. And we could add nitro tanks to add another D - danger!

Man, who knew adulthood could be so fucking awesome?!?


But, there may be a dark lining to these beautiful, cumulonimbus clouds of excitement and opportunity. It's true, my biggest fear is that I will no longer be generously catered to by marketing and advertising teams keen on reaching the young consumer demographic. Let's face it - I'm getting older, and without lifestyle ads that help me to purchase items that reenforce a well-groomed image of myself, how will I know what to buy?

Boy, adulthood may be more challenging than I thought.

Oh well, I'm sure that if I bury myself in my work and then bury myself in the electronics purchases I make as a result of my solid income, I'll be fine. Corporate world, I am ready, willing and able to bend over for your cycle of consumption, I offer up a backside to your train of stockholders. It's true...

A willing cog in the churning guts of some corporate machination, I am ready to be mangled into adulthood.





I think this might be my generic cover letter from now on. What do you think?