In the words of Hiro the Hero, I Did It!

With a final count of 50,231. F'n a.

Art College Girl

Every morning, I take the Metra train into the city for work. There's a community of regulars on the train...nobody ever speaks, but there are plenty of nods and smiles. We recognize each other, and are comfortably friendly while maintaining anonymity. There's me, Oddly-shaped-head guy, Baby Man, Bald Cary Grant, Stupid Lady, and Art College Girl.

Art College Girl typically sits in front of me upstairs on the train. Like any (presumably) eighteen or nineteen year old girl, she's bubbly and cute. She's one of few women I haven't automatically had impure thoughts about, because, well, I'm certifiably old, she is not, and sometimes you just want to preserve an image of innocence about a person. Normally, I'm a complete pervert, as you all should know. But not with Art College Girl; I just get on the train, sit down, flash a smile and wave when she walks past, and go to sleep listening to my iPod.

So this morning, I get on the train one stop south of my normal station, because I parked at my parents' house for a whole host of reasons. My usual seat is unoccupied, possibly out of everyone else's respect for routine. I sit down, pop in my ear buds, and boom, out like a light as soon as Three Little Birds hits my timpanae.

When the train pulls into Union Station, everyone starts getting up and queuing to get off the train as fast as possible, but per normal, I wait until the train has stopped moving because I'm a clumsy fat ass and know better. Art College Girl gets up, gathers her things, turns around, sees me and smiles as she walks past. I turn my head back towards the window and close my eyes for thirty seconds more sleep, and suddenly someone's patting me on the chest. I turn and look back, and it's Art College Girl.

She looks down at me, and strokes her chin, asks me, "Did you shave?" I had shaved, because two nights ago I ate soup, and had a moment of pure fatigue at having to shampoo my face every time I imbibed any spoon-ladeled liquid. For the first time in years, my face is completely shorn of whiskers. I nodded, "Yeah," and she smiled an eighteen-year-old smile, patted me on the shoulder and said, "You look good," with an approving nod. "Thanks," I said, mostly stunned at the first and potentially last conversation I'll ever have with this person.

So, the up and down of it, thank you Art College Girl, for giving an old dude something to feel good about first thing on a Friday morning. It was a sweet thing to do. And no, I'm totally not sexing you up in my mind now, and won't be. Sorry if that disappoints my readers.

National Novel Writing Month

This is why I haven't been posting, and have kinda dropped off the face of the earth:

Apparently, I'm tough when it comes to fighting 5 year olds

30

Hope and Change

One of my coworkers made a comment yesterday that stuck with me. It actually brought something up that became so pervasive in (nearly) eight years’ time that it rarely occurred to me; something that changed so thoroughly since 2001 that it’s transparent anymore (or at least was transparent until Tuesday). What he said was this: “Yes, there are a lot of conservative Americans. Possibly a majority. But the bigger factor was fear. People have been afraid of the government, and they had an opportunity reverse that,” and though it’s a simple point, it is very true. As a society, we shifted from apathy—especially our generation (X or Y, depending)—directly into fear. At first, we feared the terrorists. The Bush administration used that fear to great effect, manipulating it to consolidate power and justify imperialism. They’ve used fear virtually every day for the past 2700 or so days (since September 12, 2001), to “protect” our freedoms by systematically taking them away. Fear has been used to distract the people in this country from the macabre realities of the administration’s aims and actions.

For example, a point of pride in the history of the United States—that this is the land of opportunity, anyone can come here to make a better life—has been perverted by fear mongering against the defenseless target of immigrants. “Illegal” and “Immigrant” are now synonymous, and the people who have come here with hopes and dreams and ambitions, people who with their work not only improve themselves but improve the United States through their contributions, are attacked in words and in actions. Yes, we have to acknowledge that illegal immigration exists and is a problem, but we need not fear it. We have been browbeaten to fear everything that is not “American,” and to fear is to loathe. Furthermore, “American” has been defined as conservative jingoism and evangelical capitalism—make no mistake, not evangelical democracy.

Perhaps I’m being mawkish, but the beauty I see in the election of Barack Obama is that he did not run on a platform of anger or resentment, or revolution. He ran on two words—“Hope” and “Change.” People voted, in record numbers, for hope and change. The overwhelming, transparent fear that gripped Americans was broken by such simple, peaceful concepts. It seems precious and even trite, almost a fairy tale ending.

Will Barack Obama catalyze change in the way the American majority has demanded it? In one way, he already has. Something huge and completely unprecedented happened on Tuesday; someone of color, of the minority, was elected by the majority. This has not happened anywhere else in the modern western world, and is a testament that the United States is as dynamic as it can be static, as progressive as it can be conservative, as compassionate as it is individualistic. The real fairy tale is if he continues, and if unity prevails as a result. He has the potential to be the impetus; it is the people who will become the change. God willing, to borrow from Obama’s campaign, yes we can.

Baghdad

George W. Bush, Donald Rumsfeld, Tommy Franks, Dick Cheney, and whomever else you'd like to name invaded Iraq and Bombed Baghdad with the intent of creating a "Shock and Awe" scenario to bring Saddam Hussein's Republican Guard to their knees. In response to the shock and awe, the world shrugged.

Real shock and awe occurred last night, without a single bomb dropped or bullet fired. The United States of America elected Barack Obama, and the rest of the world has paused. Perhaps Americans are no longer afraid of their government. Perhaps we're no longer unwilling and unable to emulate the "United" portion of the States of America.

Shock and awe. For now, at least, our country, the world, is in shock and awe. That is an achievement.

Like Napoleon, short and angry

Taxes? Really? Your big issue is taxes, America? You're upset that you may have to pay more taxes? That's your big issue in this election, is it?

Nevermind that we're fighting two foreign wars with no end in sight (and please point out to me any other time in U.S. history that taxes were lowered in time of war), our economy is at a holding point just north of the vortex in the toilet bowl, our health care system is broken, all of our futures are mortgaged to the national debt, and the past seven and a half years have seen the admitted and implicit abrogation of constitutional civil rights (i.e. phone taps, limitation of due process...). More important is that you don't want your taxes to go up.

Taxes. Seriously. All you patriots, Americans, don't want to pay more taxes. Don't want to drop one more single penny towards supporting the troops you send to fight the wars, or to cover their medical bills when they come home torn and broken. Not a thin dime to help the government (which is supposed to be of the people, by the people, and for the people...we've always had a problem recognizing the responsibilities in the "of" and "by" portions, haven't we) work towards doing anything close to maintenance on the broken economy. Or a few fins towards guiding health care toward stability and sustainability. And, indeed, lets ignore the issue of the national debt completely, because it's downright un-American to not be in debt, right?

Nope, no sir. Not one more dollar out of your pockets. Because American Patriotism is actually just Rugged Individualism--stay the fuck outta my way, I'll take care of me and you take care of you. Funny thing is, that's not how reality works. True patriots are willing to stand together, to support one another until everyone is standing on their feet, and if need be, eat a shit sandwich or two for the good of the country, their countrymen, and society in general.

To paraphrase myself from a previous entry, because I'm just the kind of arrogant prick who does that sort of thing, we can stand united as a country to find a way to fix our problems, which are legion, or continue down the rugged individualist path towards collapse and failure.

And we can bicker about taxes. Like assholes.

A Message From Sarah Palin

The following is a satirical, fictional letter not actually written by Alaska Governor Sarah Palin.

Dear American Voter,

My name is Sarah Palin, governor of Alaska and candidate for Vice President of this grand and honorable land I Like to call America. I’m writing this letter to you as an opportunity for you to get to know me and what I stand for. Some might say I’m a maverick because I want to break through “the issues” and let you, Joe Six Pack and Jane Hockeymom, find out about me as a person, not a politician. You might notice as you read that several words are hyperlinked (I had to look that up, too *wink*), and I encourage you to click on them, because the internets never lie.

This land—America—is just the bee’s knees. I’d say “The United States of America,” but that wouldn’t give credit to Mexico and Canada, which really are like states 51 and 52. Anywho, If there’s one thing I support and know about, it’s patriotic energy self-sufficiency. In fact, I’ve been working with our Canadian neighbors to build The Pipeline of Patriotism, bringing some of that Alaska Downhome American Heartland vibe right through the pristine Yukon and British Columbian wilderness. I’m sure if there’s one thing those Canadians could use, it’s a good healthy dose of that can-do American attitude. Since the time of our Founding Fathers, this great land of ours has followed a righteous path, and I certainly won’t stand in the way of our destiny.

What is that destiny? Well, We’re the hardest working people in the world, as I’m sure you and Jane can attest to (*wink*)! And to take care of you guys, the fine workers of this country, John McCain and I are going to lower taxes to stimulate job growth. How does lowering taxes stimulate jobs? It just does, silly! What I love about my core—Americans—Joe Six Pack and Jane Hockeymom—is that they don’t ask questions.

I think there’s probably a whole other continent called America…but that’s not the America I’m talking about.

Well, ta-ta for now. Can’t wait to chat again—from the Oval Office!

Yours truly,
-Sarah Palin
Not really. Again: satirical, fictional, not actually written by Sarah Palin.

Laziness

I feel horrible that I haven't written anything here in over a month. Also, I feel horrible that I haven't drawn a new Benny since freakin' May.

I'm just sooooooo lazy.

George Carlin's Final Interview

So I'm reading George Carlin's final interview (by Jay Dixit for Psychology Today) and I caught a few excerpts that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up a little bit. You know, when you identify with a statement so completely that it almost ruptures your sense of individuality?

Here they are:

"Abraham Maslow said the fully realized man does not identify with the local group. When I saw that, it rang another bell. I thought: bingo! I do not identify with the local group, I do not feel a part of it. I really have never felt like a participant, I've always felt like an observer. Always. I only identified this in retrospect, way after the fact, that I have been on the outside, and I don't like being on the inside. I don't like being in their world. I've never felt comfortable there; I don't belong to that. So, when he says the "local group," I take that as meaning a lot of things: the local social clubs or fraternal orders, or lodges or associations or clubs of any kind, things where you sacrifice your individual identity for the sake of a group, for the sake of the group mind. I've always felt different and outside..."

"...I don't really feel like a member of the human race, to tell you the truth. I know I am, but I really don't. All the definitions are there, but I don't really feel a part of it. I think I have found a detached point of view, an ideal emotional detachment from the American experience and culture and the human experience and culture and human choices.

I'm not an angry person, just very disappointed and contemptuous of my fellow humans' choices—and on stage those feelings sometimes are exaggerated for a theatric stage—you're on a stage you have an audience of 2500 or 3000 people: you need to project the feelings, the emotions it's heightened, and people mistake it for a personal anger but it's more dissatisfaction, disappointment and contempt for these things we've settled for."

JD: So let me latch onto that feeling. You're grabbing somebody and you're saying, "Don't you see it?" But if you really don't care about America, then why are you doing it? Why are you on stage? Is it just because you want to express yourself? Do you hope you can influence people in some way?

"You've hit on the contradiction, and it's one I don't understand the resolution to, if there is one...
But yeah, of course I care. Of course I care. My daughter has pinned me on that. She says of course you care, can't you hear it? And I say yeah yeah yeah, but they gotta prove it to me first. Show me you care people and then I'll let some of it out; right now I just want to scold you a little bit. "

Read the whole interview here