New Year equals same old shit

Well, 2006 is over and 2007 shall begin in a little while. Now is the chance for us to take a look back over the past year. Reflect on our triumphs and failures. Think about the memories we might regret and the ones we will cherish with us forever.

Screw that.

I’m not writing any damn end of the year blog entry! Anybody with a computer, the misconception that they’re deep, and too much emo music blasting in their ears can do that. Naturally, I can’t go in that direction, it’s too obvious and easy. I have more fun going in my own direction. And if other bloggers have chosen the same direction as me, good for them, going against the herd is always more interesting and takes bigger balls.

So, instead of doing an entry about something completely different than New years, (you know, something like: Tips to survive a horror movie, which is vital information everybody should know and I’ll save for a later time), I’m gonna just write out some shit I’ve noticed in this wide wonderful world of ours. That’s right, it’s time to Ruminate!

-Ever notice how, when two famous people die at the same time one person’s death always over shadows the other one? And usually it’s the less deserving of the two who gets all the attention. Princess Di and Mother Teresa died pretty much at the same time, but Di got all the press! She never even did anything other than sell a few old ratty dresses she didn’t want anymore to raise awareness of land mines or something, (and a big success that was wasn’t it? Truly she has made a difference in the world). Whereas Big Momma Teresa devoted the whole of her long (and not very attractive, I mean come on, she had to be a nun, she had no other choice!) and important life to helping people in person. She went to all those third-world countries where the kids run around with swollen, empty bellies and the women just let their indigenous ta-tas hang all out and saggy and everybody always has flies just sitting on their faces and nobody swats them away. She went to these places and wrecked shop! She built schools and dams, stopped the flow of lava from erupting volcanoes, bent spoons with her mind, dropped frozen lakes on forest fires and invented the wheel. Compared to that Di was nobody, (of course, compared to a gangrenous big toe she’s nobody) and yet everybody concerned themselves with her more. Sup with that? Elton John didn’t write songs about Teresa. People didn’t line up to see her old wrinkled body go through the streets. Hell, who even knows where she was buried? Not me and I’m the only one who seems to give a damn.

Same thing is going on now. James Brown and Gerald Ford: both dead. And again the person who doesn’t deserve the coverage is getting all of it. That’s right, I’m talking about Ford. Let me put it this way: as just some regular guy with no political knowledge and the attention span of a typical American, I know very little about Ford. But I do know one thing and that is that he pardoned Nixon after that whole Watergate jazz. Based on just that bit of info I have deduced that Ford is a douche. Whereas James Brown was the Godfather of soul who made about a trillion popular songs, wherein you could only understand every third word he said and which have been sampled by every other musician in the history of the world. Long after everybody forgets who Ford ever was, (just as I’ve already done with all previous presidents) people will still be getting up On the good foot and talking about how they’re all Sex Machines. But all I see on CNN and FOX (motto: who needs the news when we can just report our opinion about the news!) news channels are shows about Ford’s life. BFD!

-Is it just me or has driving become really dangerous these days? I speak mostly to people who live in cities, but all areas of sprawl count. People drive any way they feel like and the situation isn’t helped by the great amount of immigrants who come to America and bring the driving rules from their countries of origin. I can’t blame foreigners though, there are so many bad drivers on the road: old people, women, drunks, etc. But you want to know who the biggest violators are? People on cell phones.

I don’t get it, I mean, there are so many worse things a person can be doing while driving, such as eating, fiddling with the radio, beating their kids, drinking, having sex, attempting to drive using the Force; but for some reason cell phones just make people bad drivers, almost as if they’re unable to drive and hold a conversation at the same time.

You’ll be driving down the road, going to Popeyes, (if you’re like me) or the neighborhood porn shop, (again, like me) when suddenly the person from the next lane just kind of swerves over into your lane. You slam on the breaks and let the person go ahead. While driving in front of you, the car is worse at staying in the lines than a kid with Parkinson’s attempting to use a coloring book. And on top of it the speed limit is 45 MPH or something and the car isn’t going any faster than 25. When a break in traffic comes up you drive by the car and look inside, expecting to see Helen Keller behind the wheel when instead it’s just some regular looking person, (insert your own definition of “regular person” here) totally focused on the cell phone in their hand.

Damn that’s annoying!

Anybody else notice stuff that makes them question the very nature of the universe? Or is it just me?

“Santa” killed in gang-style slaying

(While digging through the Washington Post this morning, trying to find the cartoon section, I ran across this story buried deep on page 12. That’s terrible! This is an important story and everybody needs to know about it. I don’t usually post columns in Eighty-Four Glyde on Sundays, but this is special. That’s why I’m reposting it in its entirety here.)

The body of a man wearing a red suit typically associated with Santa Claus was found Friday night stuffed in a drainage pipe in the 1300 block of North Capital Street in Washington D.C.

The body was discovered after a local man was walking his dog which got loose and ran into a nearby creek.

“My dog Thi and I were just going for a night walk. I don’t always keep her on a chain because she’s a pretty well-behaved bitch,” said Bob Deacon. “But I guess she must have caught a scent of the body in the air because she went running down to the creek and started gnawing on something.”

Since Santa Claus has never undergone the fingerprinting procedure, or any sort of DNA testing, positive identification of the body won’t be possible. The situation was further complicated by the manner of death and the disposal of the body.

According to the Washington D.C. medical examiner, Santa Claus was most likely forced to kneel on the ground, facing away from his killer. The killer then shot Claus twice in the back of the head, point blank, thereby obliterating the majority of the victim’s face. There is really not much left other than a blood-matted white beard with chunks of brain and bone clotted in it. In an odd turn, the victim’s ears had been cut off, as well as his tongue. The manner of the death hints strongly at a gang-style murder, said Det. Patrick E. Able, spokesman for the district police department.

“We don’t have any specific info yet to hint at one gang or another, but the cutting off of ears and tongue is usually a mark of a local crew called the Black Hand. That mutilation signifies that the victim was a snitch,” Able said. “What Santa was going to snitch on we have no idea, but we’re looking into it.”

The Black Hand has had run ins with city police on many occasions. They are known to run drugs in Northeast D.C. as well as being involved with the theft and selling of merchandise.

According to an unnamed source in the police department, the Black Hand is in some way involved with more than two dozen deaths in the district in 2006. They also have ties with New Jersey mafia, making them a gang the police will have to keep their eyes on in the future.

While the police are unofficially looking into the Black Hand for the murder, they still have been unable to come up with a motive.

“The first thing we have to do is figure out just what Santa was doing in Washington D.C. in the first place. ‘What business could he have that would bring him here? Shouldn’t he be at the North Pole getting everything ready for the big day Monday?’ Those are the questions we need to ask and get answered as we continue in the investigation,” Able said.

Area residents are wondering what Santa’s death will mean for Christmas this year.

“Who’s going to bring our presents?” said 8-year-old Latisha Jones, a resident of North Capital street. “What’s going to happen?”

So far no answers are forthcoming.

“There are three days out of the year that my five children look forward to: their birthdays, the last day of school and Christmas. Now that Santa is dead it looks like Christmas isn’t going down this year. I have no idea how I’m going to deal with how disappointed they’re going to be,” said Jasmine Jones, Latisha’s mother.

Christmas will arrive on Monday. Until then people don’t know what to expect. Christmas morning could leave people happy and full of holiday joy, or with empty areas under their Christmas trees and in their hearts. We can only wait to see what will happen.

“I really hope Christmas comes. I’ve been waiting for it all year!” Latisha said. “And I hope they find the mean men who killed Santa and punish them!”

Watchout! She’s got an Adams Apple! (or Boys will be….girls?)

I’ve been to some weird places in my life, and done some weird things, (the time I walked through the secret underground tunnels of my old college, used mostly by some goofy collegiate secret societies comes to mind, as does the time I went to war, and the other time I went to war) not to mention the multitude of weird things I’ve seen, (and by that I mean: cows. Ever seen a cow up close? I mean, really seen a cow? Those things are freaky!) But I’ve never seen something like Club Chaos.

Wednesday night was my first experience with a gay/lesbian club, on “Ladies’ Night,” featuring a Burlesque Show, and all the glories entailed therein. But first let me set the scene.

Two days ago was my white cousin’s birthday. How do I have a white cousin you ask? (I’m black for those of you who couldn’t tell by my pictures) Well, it’s a long story full of mystery, intrigue, action, pathos and drama, so I’ll just give the short version: her ancestors raped my ancestors down on the plantation. Got it? Great. Going on.

Virginia, (for that is her name) and her fiancée Jessica, (which everybody calls her because her name just happens to be Jessica, what a coincidence, eh?) had family and friends out to dinner Wednesday night at a sushi joint in D.C. called Generic Sushi Restaurant, or something like that. Then, that delightful meal (consisting of numerous little edible things of varied colors and textures) was followed up with a trip to the neighborhood club for the love that dare not speak its name.

I was excited to go to a lesbian club, for the obvious reasons (hot chicks making out with each other! Yeah!) and to test out my pimp skills on various lipstick lesbians, (hey, it’s worked before.) What I hadn’t counted on was what a weird place it would turn out to be.

When I first stepped in the club I knew immediately that I would be doing no hitting on any type of women that night. Mostly because I probably would have had my nuts ripped off by some chick’s uber-manly girlfriend, but also because I couldn’t always tell who was female and who was just dressed in women’s clothes.

It became somewhat freeing to be able to go to a club and not have to worry about hitting on anybody, or being asked to dance, or being too scared to check anybody out in case in turned out that person had a penis. I could just enjoy the booze and watch everybody else having a good time. And there were some people having a really good time.

Has anybody ever noticed that super-flaming black guys are probably the best dancers around? This would explain why they always end up as back up dancers for J-Lo and Janet, or they become choreographers or runway walking consultants. I guess when you’re all over-the-top gay, (I’m not talking prison gay, I’m talking Men on Film gaaaaaay!) you can dance around anyway you want (within the limits of rhythm and the beat of the song of course) and enjoy yourself. Some guys were having a good time that night.

Another person having a good time was the post-op tranny who was obviously in love with him/herself. He/she was dancing by herself in front of a full-length mirror. And it wasn’t so much dancing as it was a stripper routine involving her humping her Members Only-style jacket while it was on the floor. I’ve never seen somebody so involved with themselves while on the dance floor. It was fun to watch, (keeping in mind that had it been a guy or a girl totally trying to seduce themselves in front of a mirror, I still would have watched. The fact that it was a combination of both just made it more interesting.)

It (and I do mean “it”) was more interesting to watch than the “burlesque show” that happened that night. The line-up of Rubenesque women undulating to Christmassy music while seductively removing items of clothes left me feeling dead inside, as if there was no such thing as beauty in the world anymore. Luckily, alcohol was there to see me through that nightmare.

All in all it was in interesting time, marred only by the fact that I might have accidentally hit on a guy while drunk, (it wasn’t my fault, it looked like a woman, I just went up to talk to her until I realized where I was and I asked point blank if I was talking to a man or a woman. After a short hesitation he said he was a dude.) but it still worked out because I gave him the confidence to go out on the dance floor and find some guy to rub his junx all up on, (that’s how I dance by the way. I find some lady and go rub my junx on her through my tight and incredibly sexy pants. It never fails me!)

So in the end, I got to celebrate my cousin’s birthday, have some nutritious food-like substances, watch people acting totally weird in public and help an androgynous person get over their fear of dancing. Do I dare go back to that gay club and see how things go on a weekend night?

I don’t think so. My recliner is just too comfortable.

Insert clever Christmas related pun here

I’m a big fan of Christmas. That’s right, no Scrooge am I. Not an ounce of the Grinch is to be found anywhere within my genetic makeup. I’m a big ole heap of Christmas cheer. There’s something about the holiday season that warms my cockles (a phrase I will never get tired of using) and makes me radiate joyfulness and triumph. I don’t know if it’s the weather, (it certainly isn’t this year. It’s December 18 and it’s supposed to be 64 degrees today!) the crass commercialism that assaults me at every turn, the smell of pine needles rotting in the living room, the insane amount of Christmas lights some people put in their yards and over their houses that do a great job of burning out my retinas, or perhaps the music.

It might be the music. Christmas carols make the world go round as far as I’m concerned. They invoke images of warm and toasty winter nights with snow falling outside and a roaring fire going on inside, while everybody just kind of hangs around together, possibly as families were meant to do, (I have vague memories of my family doing those kinds of activities but the memories are hazy and from a time long forgotten. Perhaps I’m thinking of any random episode of Leave it to Beaver.)

Anyway, it always seems that (as far as the secular carols go) people in these songs are just having ridiculous amounts of fun. Sure some of the lyrics don’t make sense, (Dance in that new old fashion way? What does that mean? Or this brain twister:

I’ll be home for Christmas

You can count on me

I’ll be home for Christmas

If only in my dreams

Does that register logically to anybody? I mean, the singer spends the whole song saying how he/she will be home for Christmas to help do all these things and partake in some holiday happiness, but then caps off the song by admitting to a deep psychosis and tendencies to hallucinate. What’s that about?) but they don’t need to. They just have to rhyme and sound vaguely wintery. I would like to write my own Christmas carol, but I don’t think I’ve got what it takes. On the other hand, I can give you all hints to write your own carols, if you so choose. It’s fairly simple.

How to write a Christmas carol

Christmas carols are like country songs, they have to contain certain elements to fall into that genre. Those elements are:

• Jingle Bells. If you throw jingle bells somewhere in your song you can’t lose.
• A Choir. Not always easy to find, but if you can get your hands on one you should definitely use it.
• References to snow, cold weather, fires, love, presents, trees, etc. Remember, the more wintery images you use, the better the carol.
• Mentions of familial traditions or some kind of holiday activity. You can talk about everything from decorating the Christmas tree to making Christmas cookies. Is your family tradition to get drunk and belligerent? Perhaps you like to open a present or two on Christmas Eve. Whatever your poison, put it in your song because it invites listeners to be a part of your family, (though that might not be something they want.)
• Bonus element: A reference to an obscure, possibly European Christmas tradition that’s been lost in time and nobody knows. Some examples of this include talking about figgy pudding (what the hell is that anyway?) wassailing and giving people weird, potentially inappropriate presents spread out over a series of days. Presents that can include other people. Which is not something I knew was an option when giving gifts, (unless you hand out prostitutes to your friends for Christmas, which isn’t such a bad idea.)

Wayyyyy back in Christmas of ’01 I was in boot camp. It wasn’t my plan to go through boot camp in the winter, but it wasn’t up to me. The government seems to do what it pleases with random American citizens.

Anyway, the environment at Fort Knox wasn’t the best for holidays. Nary a paper cut-out snowflake or cardboard Frosty was to be found. The drill sergeants were more interested in decking the concrete with our faces than decking the halls. So I decided to do something about it. I had my father mail me the lyrics to as many Christmas carols as possible. Now I don’t have any type of singing voice whatsoever, but after weeks of singing cadences while marching and running we all became immune to bad singing. It became my job to serenade the other sixty something guys in my platoon with holiday song. Or, more accurately, I attacked my fellow soldiers with a wobbly, off-pitch voice and scary hand gestures reminiscent of Parkinson’s. But it got the job done. After a week or so people would request songs of me and I would be happy to oblige. Whether we were cleaning our rifles, making our beds or dropping deuces in bathroom stalls, (there’s nothing more relaxing for the sphincter muscles than hearing Grandma got run over by a reindeer while you’re trying to pinch off a loaf. Gross, I know, but try it sometime.)

It was small, but in my own way I was able to spread some holiday cheer. Thereby taking care of my one good deed for the decade. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a naughty list I need to bribe my way off of. That Santa is a crusty old guy. He doesn’t like to bargain often. Luckily I know that he likes the white powder, and I don’t mean that stuff you ski on!

Merry Whatever people!

If you don’t open this your family’s private parts will be gnawed upon by wolves

I can’t stand it anymore! Aren’t you tired of getting emails and Myspace bulletins with some kind of attention-grabbing subject line and you end up having to read something weird that somebody’s trying to pass off as non-fiction?

You know what I’m talking about: Internet rumors and chain letters. I don’t want to know about some possibly fictitious African country where the leader has been disposed and the government desperately wants to dump millions of dollars into my account. I don’t need to find out about some kid who supposedly has a pity-inducing and extremely debilitating cancer and will somehow get monetary donations if I pass on a chain letter. And I don’t care about what random and unnecessary beauty product they’re testing on Nummy Muffin Coco Butter and the rest of her cute rabbit family.

Let me give you an example of a bulletin I got two days ago. In this bulletin a person claims that “Starbucks are for terrorists.” Let’s read, shall we? (Original syntax and spelling intact.)

Recently Marines in Iraq wrote to Starbucks because they wanted to let them
know how much they liked their coffees and to request that they send some of it to the troops there. Starbucks replied, telling the Marines thank you for their support of their business, but that Starbucks does not support the war, nor anyone in it, and that they would not send the troops their brand of coffee. So as not to offend Starbucks, maybe we should not support them by buying any of their products! As a war vet writing to fellow patriots, I feel we should get this out in the open. I know this war might not be very popular with some folks, but that doesn't mean we don't support the boys on the ground fighting
street-to-street and house-to-house for what they and I believe is right. If you feel the same as I do then pass this along, or you can discard it and no one will never know.

"Semper Fidelis."
Sgt Howard C. Wright
1st Force Recon Co
1st Plt PLT

Now, does anybody believe this in any way? Be honest, I won’t make fun of you. After all, it does have the proper items to make it a successful Internet rumor, (successful in that though it was created years ago it still gets circulation.) What are those proper items, you ask? Let’s break it down.

1. It’s written in letter form. Doing this makes it seem as though the person writing it has first hand knowledge of the events described within the letter.

2. It takes advantage of current events. Writing about the war in Iraq, what’s more up-to-date than that? Not to mention that the war is a very polarizing issue, you’re going to have an opinion of it one way or the other. Having the rumor seem patriotic will always help.

3. It attacks a huge, faceless corporation. Everybody hates huge, soulless corporations, and we all believe that they secretly hate their customers and do everything they can to steal our money while giving us inferior products. So everybody will love to see their beliefs confirmed in the rumor.

4. It uses truth and fiction combined. Mixing in real things with blatant lies will help make the lies more acceptable, especially if the lies confirm pre-held notions the readers might have, (see number three.)

5. It calls people to come together to fight. People like to feel like they have the power to change things.

6. It has a vague timeline. Without any details as to when something specifically happened, you can make it sound like it happened yesterday or three years ago.

7. It has a name. Throwing a name in the letter implies honesty. I mean, who would sign their name to a lie, right?

Of course, this bulletin didn’t give the whole story. If you want the whole story you have to go to one of my favorite sites, snopes.com: http://www.snopes.com/politics/military/starbucks.asp. Which will lay everything out for you. It just goes to show that you should never trust anything anybody ever says. Ever!

As is often the case, I’ve been inspired by this whole phenomenon, and I’m going to make my own Internet rumor. It will incorporate all the things above and will make absolutely no sense. But it’ll be just weird enough that people will believe it. Not only am I going to put the rumor here, but I’m also going to send it out as a bulletin, in a two-pronged attack. Feel free to copy the bulletin from here to make it your own bulletin, or pass it along if you get the bulletin from me. I think it’d be hilarious to see just how far it’ll go. Maybe it’ll be spread around, maybe it’ll die a horrible death. Either way, I’m bored enough to try it.

Here goes:

Nuns get the shaft from government

When I heard about this I was shocked at how backwards in time some people still are! We’re in the 21^st Century and we need to teach our children everything to ensure a future for our country!

A few months ago, at the St. Rose High School, in Tonganoxie, Kansas, the county school board decided to put three teaching nuns on administrative leave for teaching children about other sexual positions besides the “Vatican approved” missionary style.

“We can’t just have teachers in our school system who refuse to teach children in the manner prescribed to them by Our Lord and the state department of education,” said Croyden Missider, spokesman for the Kansas Department of Education. “It’s just something that Our Lord doesn’t approve of.”

That above quote was taken directly from Mr. Missider by members of the Kansas Committee for the Separation of Church and State (K.C.S.C.S.) That group, like all right-thinking Americans, are trying to keep Neo-Con and outdated modes of thought out of the school system.

Help support KCSCS in their effort to keep the minds of our children open to ideas that will help them become well-rounded and vital members of America’s future. Please repost this bulletin (with the subjectline: Nuns get the shaft from government) around to help create awareness for what the Kansas Department of Education is doing. If we are all aware, we can make a change!

Thank you!
Dr. Richard Brakeston, M.D.
Topeka, Kansas