I was watching late night television. That's part of my problem. I consume media at a time when most people are happily asleep. It's a time when there are commercials for gorgeous 18 year old girls who have nothing to do on a Friday night besides talk with you.
I saw a commercial for Surrogate Abroad. This is basically a service that allows you to hook up with a 3rd world girl to have your baby.
All I could think was where are the Christians on this one? Don't see a whole lot of right-wingers screaming about this on Fox News. This seems like something they would concern themselves with. It involves two of their favorite things, educating people about reproduction and trying to control other people's lives.
Is it too new? Do not enough people know about it? Or are we kind of okay with that and if so, what does that say about this country?
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Sunday, June 17, 2012
The Proud Highway
It's 430 in the morning here in Omaha. I couldn't sleep at all last night, I was too exited. Well that and my circadian rhythm is fucked to hell.
Today I head out with my two best friends; my clan before I become a married man.
It is traditional for the man to celebrate his coming nuptials by throwing a party that represents an end to a mans single existence. A veritable orgy of delights the young man must leave behind in order to become one with his bride... or just because she will make his remaining years a hell if he doesnt.
For some men, that's strippers, boozes and hookers. Not me.
First, I was never big on strippers, and ironically my bride to be likes them more than I do, so that's not even on the list if things I have to give up.
Booze... Listen, that would have been brought up early and often.
Finally, whores. Never had and never will have the kind of money that makes that an acceptable pass-time these days.
So me and the crew are packing some shit and heading out on the road. The road trip we all know and love from our youth. We are following the same path that me and Garrett took on the Great Northwest Brewery tour.
That is the freedom I am exchanging. The ability to get in a car with friends and drive. Seek the American Dream with no constraints or hindrances. Take off on that proud highway with a good song, a pint of whiskey and a dream.
It's not like I was using that freedom anyway. Real life and the distaste for poverty and the life of a bum largely restrained those urges in me. It was sitting gathering dust for years. I just liked the feeling that it was there. That I could do this thing. I could charge off like a bat out of hell, scream to the heavens that I was now free.... until I needed gas money.
I could have, and it would hurt no one but me. That is not the case now.
Like so many other men, I realized that life is inherently more valuable if you have someone to spend it with. It's simple economics, increased demand leads to increased price.
Plus, I have seen the face of chronic bachelorhood. I will save the details for a later post, but suffice to say it's a life few choose.
That life demands a sacrifice. My freedom sitting dusty in a garage like a cherry sports car an owner is too afraid to take on the public road. It's been taken out a few times, but not like I had dreamed. Time to trade it in... After one last ride.
Today I head out with my two best friends; my clan before I become a married man.
It is traditional for the man to celebrate his coming nuptials by throwing a party that represents an end to a mans single existence. A veritable orgy of delights the young man must leave behind in order to become one with his bride... or just because she will make his remaining years a hell if he doesnt.
For some men, that's strippers, boozes and hookers. Not me.
First, I was never big on strippers, and ironically my bride to be likes them more than I do, so that's not even on the list if things I have to give up.
Booze... Listen, that would have been brought up early and often.
Finally, whores. Never had and never will have the kind of money that makes that an acceptable pass-time these days.
So me and the crew are packing some shit and heading out on the road. The road trip we all know and love from our youth. We are following the same path that me and Garrett took on the Great Northwest Brewery tour.
That is the freedom I am exchanging. The ability to get in a car with friends and drive. Seek the American Dream with no constraints or hindrances. Take off on that proud highway with a good song, a pint of whiskey and a dream.
It's not like I was using that freedom anyway. Real life and the distaste for poverty and the life of a bum largely restrained those urges in me. It was sitting gathering dust for years. I just liked the feeling that it was there. That I could do this thing. I could charge off like a bat out of hell, scream to the heavens that I was now free.... until I needed gas money.
I could have, and it would hurt no one but me. That is not the case now.
Like so many other men, I realized that life is inherently more valuable if you have someone to spend it with. It's simple economics, increased demand leads to increased price.
Plus, I have seen the face of chronic bachelorhood. I will save the details for a later post, but suffice to say it's a life few choose.
That life demands a sacrifice. My freedom sitting dusty in a garage like a cherry sports car an owner is too afraid to take on the public road. It's been taken out a few times, but not like I had dreamed. Time to trade it in... After one last ride.
Sunday, June 10, 2012
The Less Than Grand Design
I was watching a special on the Discovery Channel last night on the theories of Stephan Hawking. One of those, of course, had to do with the existence of a creator.
It's my own fault. After I watched the special, I headed to the Internet. I wanted to see the insanity people would inevitably leave behind. The announcement actually came several years ago, so a lot of comments built up over the years.
There were a lot of comments saying something along the lines of, " So what? I believe in God and I will continue to."
That strikes me as the right answer.
Others said with a certain smugness that he would find The Truth when he died. Yes, that is true. The majority of the comments just saddened me. I was looking for good old American bat-shittery, crazy rants that make me want to break out the tin foil hats.
What I got was the word 'cripple' more times that I've seen in the Bible.
"He's just mad because he's a cripple and he thinks God abandoned him."
"He feels science has done more for him than God. Without it he would be a drooling crippled retard."
Let's be clear. We are talking about Stephan Fucking Hawking. Probably the smartest man since Einstein.
Shut up, cripple! Yeah, well you're in a wheelchair! He's just mad because his legs don't work!
It's my own fault. I did go looking on the Internet afterall.
Remember. If someone says something you don't like, just make fun of them for being different. That's what Jesus would do after all.
It's my own fault. After I watched the special, I headed to the Internet. I wanted to see the insanity people would inevitably leave behind. The announcement actually came several years ago, so a lot of comments built up over the years.
There were a lot of comments saying something along the lines of, " So what? I believe in God and I will continue to."
That strikes me as the right answer.
Others said with a certain smugness that he would find The Truth when he died. Yes, that is true. The majority of the comments just saddened me. I was looking for good old American bat-shittery, crazy rants that make me want to break out the tin foil hats.
What I got was the word 'cripple' more times that I've seen in the Bible.
"He's just mad because he's a cripple and he thinks God abandoned him."
"He feels science has done more for him than God. Without it he would be a drooling crippled retard."
Let's be clear. We are talking about Stephan Fucking Hawking. Probably the smartest man since Einstein.
Shut up, cripple! Yeah, well you're in a wheelchair! He's just mad because his legs don't work!
It's my own fault. I did go looking on the Internet afterall.
Remember. If someone says something you don't like, just make fun of them for being different. That's what Jesus would do after all.
Monday, May 28, 2012
Cyber bullying with the big boys.
Working on the second draft of a short story I started about a year ago or so. Actually, it started almost two years ago exactly. I have a friend (who by the way is the inspiration for a lot of Mac's character in this story) who found himself on the receiving end of a cyber war of a kind.
Now just to be fair all around, I happen to think that a lot of his paranoia was in his own head, but I don't blame him for that. He had just lost his job, and the reason that he was given was a complete lie. To make a long story short without including a whole lot of details, he had linked it to some comments that he made on the Internet.
What I was thinking then, and what I am still pondering now is the use of cyber bullying. Or specifically, how an entity like a government or corporation could use Internet technology to embarrass, discredit and silence. I was kind of stuck on two ideas.
1. Put porn on their computer: Child porn would be best, but depending on their enviroment or sensibilities, anything might work. As I was thinking about this possibility, I couldn't help but get into a conspiratorial mood that suggested that the hype and fear over pedophilia in the past several years would be a handy way to keep 'dangerous people' down. Somebody starts getting uppity, you throw a few naked kids on their computer and, bam! Discredited and ruined for life. This is something I might save for another story, I don't think I want to play this card in 1984 Redux.
2. Terrorism: Same thing only with bomb making materials and anarchist manifestos. Not quite as effective as the technique above, but still useful.
But that was it. So much for my creative mind. So I started looking up this idea of cyberbullying. If you type that term into Google, you get a lot of sites that have to do with kids, teens mostly. I was kind of already aware of some of this, but I wasn't really privy to some of the really creative ways high school-age kids would go and slam each other.
It goes to show that, when it comes to cruelty, nothing is as creative and effective as a child.
That's where I'm at though. I'm taking some of those ideas and refining them into something a modern corporation would use. What kind of things would a modern corporation resort to if it meant quieting a whistle-blower? Especially if it would save them millions, or even billions of dollars.
Good old fashioned school-yard rules as applied to the modern technological landscape. A little unsettling to think about.
Now just to be fair all around, I happen to think that a lot of his paranoia was in his own head, but I don't blame him for that. He had just lost his job, and the reason that he was given was a complete lie. To make a long story short without including a whole lot of details, he had linked it to some comments that he made on the Internet.
What I was thinking then, and what I am still pondering now is the use of cyber bullying. Or specifically, how an entity like a government or corporation could use Internet technology to embarrass, discredit and silence. I was kind of stuck on two ideas.
1. Put porn on their computer: Child porn would be best, but depending on their enviroment or sensibilities, anything might work. As I was thinking about this possibility, I couldn't help but get into a conspiratorial mood that suggested that the hype and fear over pedophilia in the past several years would be a handy way to keep 'dangerous people' down. Somebody starts getting uppity, you throw a few naked kids on their computer and, bam! Discredited and ruined for life. This is something I might save for another story, I don't think I want to play this card in 1984 Redux.
2. Terrorism: Same thing only with bomb making materials and anarchist manifestos. Not quite as effective as the technique above, but still useful.
But that was it. So much for my creative mind. So I started looking up this idea of cyberbullying. If you type that term into Google, you get a lot of sites that have to do with kids, teens mostly. I was kind of already aware of some of this, but I wasn't really privy to some of the really creative ways high school-age kids would go and slam each other.
It goes to show that, when it comes to cruelty, nothing is as creative and effective as a child.
That's where I'm at though. I'm taking some of those ideas and refining them into something a modern corporation would use. What kind of things would a modern corporation resort to if it meant quieting a whistle-blower? Especially if it would save them millions, or even billions of dollars.
Good old fashioned school-yard rules as applied to the modern technological landscape. A little unsettling to think about.
Thursday, May 24, 2012
What the fuck is this?
This is diary of where it all went wrong. Another voice destined for obscurity and oblivion in the vast void of the Internets. An archaic record of the hopes of another member of a doomed generation lost forever among the rubble of like-minded souls.
This is a record of the beginning. The first records of a promising new voice in American literature. One of the few lucky ones who the Fates proclaimed worthy enough to be relevant in this day and age.
Perhaps it's a little of both. Mostly likely it's the former.
So what the fuck is this?
It just is. A journal of thoughts and ideas dressed in pretty colors and trotted out in front of the world like circus animals. At the same time, this is just for me. A way to put my thoughts to words and maybe work out what is going on inside my little head. A place tucked away for my own reference, a place that's totally visible to anyone with and Internet access and the ability and motivation to search through a lot of irrelevant Google results.
I was reading a book once titled, IRA: A History. Basically an history of the Irish Republican Army. At one point in time the author stated that a common problem was the organizations need to be secrative vs the Irish urge to be very, very public. This conflict would result in a man spending hours secretly procuring gelignite and quietly coordinating the attack with a handful of conspirators and the nip down to the pub and announce his plan to the whole room... loudly... over a lot of beer.
So really, it's not stupid. It's cultural.
Hopefully you found this because someday I will have something published. Sympathy for Immortals available in hardcover and paperback. Check out the author's website! Check out the author's blog! Then a few of you, you go back through the archives. The first post. Isn't funny? He didn't think he would ever be published.
Maybe you are just me in ten years. Working a shit job. Trying to keep the dream alive and returning to this time to try and remember why I even bothered in the first place.
So what the fuck is this?
It's nothing. Go away. You won't like it.
If you are family, stop reading. I'm going to say shit that I don't say out-loud. I'm going to say shit that I say out-loud too much. You are going to want to ask me about it. You are going to want me to explain myself.
I won't. I don't wanna.
If you are friends or aquaintences... see above. Except some of you know the awful truth more then most. If you absolutly must continue, for the love of Gods keep it down. They'll hear you.
If you are a present or future employer. Well done. You've caught me. At one point in time I had indipendant thoughts and ideas. I probably still do, it's kind of a curse. The smart thing to have done would be to write these things down and hide them away where nobody could see them. I didn't do that. I wrote them down and published them. Then I might have forgotten about them. Now you've found them and you've got me bang-to-rights. Now you can fire me. Now you have a reason to never hire me.
Forgive me, but I couldn't let the richness of the world and all the experiences that are possible within pass me by just because I was afraid that it might offend my corporate masters. Sorry.
This is a diary of how it all went wrong.
This is a tale of where a career began.
What the fuck is this?
It's nothing.
Go away.
This is a record of the beginning. The first records of a promising new voice in American literature. One of the few lucky ones who the Fates proclaimed worthy enough to be relevant in this day and age.
Perhaps it's a little of both. Mostly likely it's the former.
So what the fuck is this?
It just is. A journal of thoughts and ideas dressed in pretty colors and trotted out in front of the world like circus animals. At the same time, this is just for me. A way to put my thoughts to words and maybe work out what is going on inside my little head. A place tucked away for my own reference, a place that's totally visible to anyone with and Internet access and the ability and motivation to search through a lot of irrelevant Google results.
I was reading a book once titled, IRA: A History. Basically an history of the Irish Republican Army. At one point in time the author stated that a common problem was the organizations need to be secrative vs the Irish urge to be very, very public. This conflict would result in a man spending hours secretly procuring gelignite and quietly coordinating the attack with a handful of conspirators and the nip down to the pub and announce his plan to the whole room... loudly... over a lot of beer.
So really, it's not stupid. It's cultural.
Hopefully you found this because someday I will have something published. Sympathy for Immortals available in hardcover and paperback. Check out the author's website! Check out the author's blog! Then a few of you, you go back through the archives. The first post. Isn't funny? He didn't think he would ever be published.
Maybe you are just me in ten years. Working a shit job. Trying to keep the dream alive and returning to this time to try and remember why I even bothered in the first place.
So what the fuck is this?
It's nothing. Go away. You won't like it.
If you are family, stop reading. I'm going to say shit that I don't say out-loud. I'm going to say shit that I say out-loud too much. You are going to want to ask me about it. You are going to want me to explain myself.
I won't. I don't wanna.
If you are friends or aquaintences... see above. Except some of you know the awful truth more then most. If you absolutly must continue, for the love of Gods keep it down. They'll hear you.
If you are a present or future employer. Well done. You've caught me. At one point in time I had indipendant thoughts and ideas. I probably still do, it's kind of a curse. The smart thing to have done would be to write these things down and hide them away where nobody could see them. I didn't do that. I wrote them down and published them. Then I might have forgotten about them. Now you've found them and you've got me bang-to-rights. Now you can fire me. Now you have a reason to never hire me.
Forgive me, but I couldn't let the richness of the world and all the experiences that are possible within pass me by just because I was afraid that it might offend my corporate masters. Sorry.
This is a diary of how it all went wrong.
This is a tale of where a career began.
What the fuck is this?
It's nothing.
Go away.
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