Happy Halloween Part 2

Excerpts from THE SCARIEST MOVIE EVER MADE!



Props to Wil Wheaton!

Happy Halloween!

My spooky story submission won Moxie Mama's "Ghost Post" contest. Yay me!

Since the contest is over, I'm reposting the story here for your Halloween reading pleasure. Enjoy!

"Wake up! I'm bleeding."

We had just finished watching Northern Exposure in bed and were drifting off to sleep. It was the rerun that came on after the local news. So it was sometime after 11pm.

"Wake up! I'm bleeding."

Young Galadriel Tanqueray Onassis wasn't due for another month.

My adrenal gland propelled me out of bed like an F-18 ejection seat.

I started assembling our "kit" while she called the pediatrician. The doctor said he would meet us at Truman Medical Center, our chosen birthing location. It was about 30 minutes away.

Less than 5 minutes later, the doctor called us back and said "Truman is too far away. Go to St. Mary's." He would meet us there. St. Mary's was only about 5 minutes away.

I really, really didn't like the sound of that.

We loaded up in the jeep and I took off like a bat out of hell with my emergency flashers on.

My bleeding wife said "Don't get a ticket!"

"They will have to shoot my tires out and follow the trail of rim sparks and hot asphalt to the hospital before I stop this jeep!"

The hospital was expecting us. I handed my wife off to the waiting nurse and wheel chair at the ER entrance while I found a place to park.

I ran from the jeep to the ER desk and asked where they had taken her.

I ran to the location they gave me. I thought. But I got lost. I ran back to the desk and asked again. I successfully ran to the correct examining room.

My wife was lying on the table, the doctor was between her legs and the first words I heard were "There's too much blood. I can't see anything. I need an emergency Caesarian."

She had a placental abruption. She had already lost half of her blood. Mother and baby were both at risk of dying. Soon.

As they were hustling her off to the operating room, they quickly dressed me in scrubs and started taking patient and insurance information.

By the time I got back to the operating room, she was prepped, taking anesthesia, a shield was erected and the pediatrician was in position.

I held her hand as she went under.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

I glanced up at the observation area above the operating room and there was a woman standing there, watching. She was wearing yellow scrubs covered with green frogs. I think she had brown hair, but I can’t swear to it. I don’t remember much more about her. I figured she must have been a nurse or a staffer who heard the late night call for an emergency Caesarian and just wanted to watch and learn.

An eternity later, the doctor pulls a limp, bloody baby from my wife's open womb.

The baby isn't crying. There is no time for pointless, modern nonsense like letting the dad cut the abdominal cord. The doctor snipped it professionally, handed the baby to a nurse who silently whisked it away.

I look up at the observation room and the woman in the scrubs gives me a smile and a big "thumbs up". I knew then that everything was going to be O.K. I felt a rush of relief and was brought to tears. I raised my hand to her in acknowledgement. She smiled and nodded.

The doctor starts closing up. He removes the abrupted placenta, examines it, and asks if I would like to see it.

I politely decline.

He then asks if I would like to see my wife's ovarian cysts before he closes her up.

Again, I politely (but somewhat more urgently) decline his invitation.

He always was a chatty bastard.

He gets her put back together and snaps off his rubber gloves.

The nurse informs him "Just for the record, it's been exactly 15 minutes since you declared an emergency Caesarian."

I look up at the observation room again, and it is empty.

Just as they are wheeling my wife off to the recovery room and taking me to where they are cleaning the baby, I hear her cry.

My daughter is alive!

The next few days are pretty iffy.

The wife had to have a pretty substantial blood transfusion. And recover from an emergency Caesarian. She was lying in her room hooked up to IVs and heavily sedated.

My preemie daughter was lying under a cake-keeper in the nursery with an E.T. light on her finger.

I was in a recliner in the wife's room with an ice pack on my blown out knee from all of that running that my sedentary body had NO IDEA how to handle.

It made for quite the family photo.

My wife's older son and daughter arrive at the hospital.

Somewhere around 3am, my wife groggily wakes up. Last she remembers, she was pregnant and bleeding. Now she's not pregnant anymore and there is no baby. I try to reassure her that everything is O.K. That G.T.O is Ok. She's in the nursery.

She doesn't believe me.

So I leave the step-kids in charge, limp out to the jeep, rush back home and get the video camera. I come back, tape G.T.O. alive and breathing in the nursery. Then I take the tape back to the wife's room and play it for her on the TV.

Many happy tears were shed.

I tried to find out who the lady in the operating room observation deck was. I wanted to thank her for reassuring me.

No one else remembered seeing anyone in the observation room. I describe her as best as I could to one of the ER nurses. Her face went ashen, she seemed to go a little limp and her eyes moistened up, and she whispered “Julie”.

I asked her what she was talking about and she said “C’mon. Your wife and baby are both fine and sleeping. Let’s go get some coffee.”

We went to the lounge, got a couple of paper cups of strong brew from the coin operated barista and settled in at a round table in plastic chairs with wire legs.

The nurse’s name was Heather. She told me story.

“Julie was an Emergency Room nurse. She got her degree in 1980 from Kansas City University of Medicine and Biosciences. That’s the Med School on Independence Avenue just east of Paseo. You can always spot it by all of the young kids in scrubs crossing the street from the dorms to the school. Right by the 7-11. It’s a good school, but it’s in a rough area. Right down the street from the cheap hooker hotels.
Anyway, Julie was a devout Catholic. That is why she chose St. Mary’s as her first nursing gig. She was a bit of an adrenaline junky so she was attracted to the ER. She had been working in the ER at St. Mary’s for about 6 months.

One weekend, she had ventured back to the dorms to visit some friends who were still struggling to graduate. After a late night of partying with friends, she headed back to the parking garage, alone, to get her car and drive home.

Unfortunately, the garage was not empty. She was attacked and brutally raped. She was left bruised, battered and bleeding between two cars. A security guard found her shortly before dawn and called the police.

She couldn’t give the police a description of her attacker. It was dark and he had beaten her pretty badly. She lost consciousness. He was never apprehended or charged.

But it gets worse. She was pregnant with her rapist’s child.

Being a Catholic and working at St. Mary’s an abortion was out of the question. She decided to have the baby and give it up for adoption.

The time came and she went into labor. Of course, her beloved St. Mary’s was her chosen birthing location. Her baby would be delivered by the doctors and nurses she worked next to 12 hours a day.

There were complications. Sometimes, a baby just doesn’t want to come into the world. Sometimes, they take their mothers with them when they go. Julie and her baby died in the operating room.”

Heather dropped her head. Her shoulder length blond hair obscured her face. A single tear splattered on the table next to her coffee. She sniffed, raised her head defiantly, wiped her cheeks dry and took a swig of the bitter, machine brewed coffee.

“I’ve never seen her. I don’t believe in all that hocus pocus. But I hear reports. Stories from heavily sedated pregnant mothers being wheeled into the OR. Stories from emotional family members under a lot of stress. People like you. Sometimes they see somebody who looks like Julie. Standing up in the observation deck. Wearing yellow scrubs covered in green frogs. Watching over things. Giving little signs of encouragement.

I don’t believe in all that crap. I’ve seen too many bad things happen to good people.

But I’ll tell you this.

Nobody who ever claimed to have seen Julie ever had to bury anybody.

C’mon. Finish your coffee and let’s go check on your wife and kid.”


I didn't have to bury anybody.

Before The Dark Knight...

There was a little independent net flick called "Batman Dead End" by aspiring filmmaker Sandy Collora.

A Different Perspective

CAVEAT: I don't know how much of this is true. It's after 8:30, I have to iron a pair of slacks so I can go to work tomorrow at a job that pays HALF of what I made 4 years ago and I don't have time to provide hyper-links to the true statements and false statements. I found it at this site which purports to be sponsored by Vietnam Veterans Against John McCain. Got a problem with the information? Go flame them. I'm just presenting a diferent perspective on the McCain narrative.

FACT SHEET: Military record of John Sidney McCain III

"Both McCain III’s father and grandfather were Admirals in the United States Navy.

His father, Admiral John S. ”Junior” McCain was commander of U.S. forces in Europe - later commander of American forces in Vietnam while McCain III was being held prisoner of war.

His grandfather John S. McCain, Sr. commanded naval aviation at the Battle of Okinawa in 1945.

McCain III, like his father and grandfather, also attended the United States Naval Academy.

McCain III finished near the bottom of his graduating class in 1958.

McCain III lost five U.S. Navy aircraft:

Lost Aircraft #1 - Student pilot McCain III lost jet number one in 1958 when he plunged into Corpus
Christi Bay while practicing landings.

Lost Aircraft #2 - Pilot McCain III lost another plane two years later while he was deployed in the Mediterranean. ”Flying too low over the Iberian Peninsula, he took out some power lines which led to a spate of newspaper stories in which he was predictably identified as the son of an admiral.

Lost Aircraft #3 - Pilot McCain III lost number three in 1965 when he was returning from flying a Navy trainer solo to Philadelphia for an Army-Navy football game. McCain III radioed, ”I’ve got a flameout” and ejected at one thousand feet. The plane crashed to the ground and McCain III floated to a deserted beach.

Lost Aircraft #4 - Combat pilot McCain III lost his fourth on July 29, 1967, soon after he was assigned to the USS Forrestal as an A-4 Skyhawk combat pilot. While waiting his turn for takeoff, an accidently fired rocket slammed into McCain Jr’s. plane. He escaped from the burning aircraft, but the explosions that followed killed 134 sailors, destroyed at least 20 aircraft, and threatened to sink the ship.

Lost Aircraft #5 - Combat pilot McCain III lost a fifth plane three months later (Oct. 26, 1967) during his 23rd mission over North Vietnam when he failed to avoid a surface-to-air missile. McCain III ejected from the plane breaking both arms and a leg in the process and subsequently parachuted into Truc Bach Lake near Hanoi. After being pulled from the lake by the North Vietnamese, McCain III was bayoneted in his left foot and shoulder and struck by a rifle butt. He was then transported to the Hoa Lo Prison, also known as the Hanoi Hilton.

1973 New York Daily News labeled POW McCain III a “PW Songbird”.

On McCain III’s fourth day of being denied medical treatment, slapped, and threatened with death by the communist (they were demanding military information in exchange for medical treatment), McCain III broke and told his interrogator, ”O.K., I’ll give you military information if you will take me to the hospital.” U.S. News and World Report, May 14, 1973 article written by former POW John McCain.

It was then that the communist learned that McCain III’s father was Admiral John S. McCain, the soon-to-be commander of all U.S. Forces in the Pacific. The Vietnamese rushed McCain III to Gai Lam military hospital (U.S. government documents), a medical facility normally unavailable for U.S. POWs.

By Nov. 9, 1967 (U.S. government documents) Hanoi press was quoting McCain III describing his mission including the number of aircraft in his flight, information about rescue ships, and the order of which U.S. attacks would take place.

While in still in North Vietnam’s military hospital, McCain III gave an interview to prominent French television reporter Francois Chalais for a series titled Life in Hanoi. Chalais’ interview with McCain III was aired in Europe.

Vietnamese doctors operated on McCain’s Leg in early December, 1967.

Six weeks after he was shot down, McCain was taken from the hospital and delivered to a U.S. POW camp.

In May of 1968, McCain III allowed himself to be interviewed by two North Vietnamese
generals at separate times.”

May 14, 1973 article written by former POW John McCain.

In August 1968, other POWs learned for the first time that John McCain III had been taken prisoner.

On June 5, 1969, the New York Daily News reported in a article headlined Reds Say PW
Songbird Is Pilot Son of Admiral, “ . . . Hanoi has aired a broadcast in which the pilot son of United States Commander in the Pacific, Adm. John McCain, purportedly admits to having bombed civilian targets in North Vietnam and praises medical treatment he has received since being taken prisoner . . .” The Washington Post explained McCain III’s broadcast: “The English-Language broadcast beamed at South Vietnam was one of a series using American prisoners. It was in response to a plea by Defense Secretary Melvin S. Laird, May 19, that North Vietnam treat prisoners according to the humanitarian standards set forth by the Geneva Convention.”

In 1970, McCain III agreed to an interview with Dr. Fernando Barral, a Spanish psychiatrist who was living in Cuba at the time.

The meeting between Barral and McCain III (which was photographed by the Vietnamese)
took place away from the prison at the office of the Committee for Foreign Cultural Relations in Hanoi (declassified government document).

During the meeting, POW McCain sipped coffee and ate oranges and cakes with the Cuban.

While talking with Barral, McCain III further seriously violated the military Code of Conduct by failing to evade answering questions ”to the utmost of his ability” when he, according government documents, helped Barral by answering questions in Spanish, a language McCain had learned in school. The interview was published in the in January 1970.

McCain III was released from North Vietnam March 15, 1973.

In 1993, during one of his many trips back to Hanoi, McCain asked the Vietnamese not to make public any records they hold pertaining to returned U.S. POWs. McCain III claims, that while a POW, he tried to kill himself.

McCain III was awarded “medals for valor” equal to nearly a medal-and-a-half for each
hour he spent in combat.

For 23 combat missions (an estimated 20 hours over enemy territory), the U.S. Navy awarded McCain III, the son of famous admirals, a Silver Star, a Legion of Merit for Valor, a Distinguished Flying Cross, three Bronze Stars, two Commendation medals plus two Purple Hearts and a dozen service medals.

“McCain had roughly 20 hours in combat,” explains Bill Bell, a veteran of Vietnam and former chief of the U.S. Office for POW/MIA Affairs -- the first official U.S. representative in Vietnam since the 1973 fall of Saigon.

“Since McCain got 28 medals,” Bell continued, “that equals to about a medal-and-a-half for each hour he spent in combat. There were infantry guys -- grunts on the ground -- who had more than 7,000 hours in combat and I can tell you that there were times and situations where I’m sure a prison cell would have looked pretty good to them by comparison. The question really is how many guys got that number of medals for not being shot down.”

For years, McCain has been an unchecked master at manipulating an overly friendly and
biased news media. The former POW turned Congressman, turned U.S. Senator, has managed to gloss over his failures as a pilot and his collaborations with the enemy to become America’s POW-hero presidential candidate.

For more information: www.againstmccain.com www.usveterandispatch.com"

VOTE!

VOTE!

No, I'm not talking about politics, silly!

I'm talking about Moxie Mama's "Ghost Post" contest!



She's been posting spooky foreplay all month so there's lots of good stuff to read.

But there are 8 entries in her Ghost Post contest. One of them is mine. All votes must be placed by midnight tomorrow, October 30.

So go to her site, dim the lights, read all the scary stories, and cast your vote for the longest one!

It's that simple!

So exercise your rights as a citizen of the blogosphere and VOTE!

It's your patriotic duty!

Damn You Dan!

REMINDER: October Blog Meat

Thursday, October 30 at
Davey's Uptown Rambler's Club
3402 Main Street
Kansas City, Missouri 64111
$10 Cover

Local blogger and burlesque star Eartha Delights (formerly teckc) announces her first burlesque production of her very own ever:

Counter Culture Militia Boob Squad presents: Operation Wicked

Starring Eartha Delights and Kiki Severe

With special guests:
Lucky DeLuxe
Annie Cherry
Honey Valentine
Kitty Von Minx
and Mia Vicious
With music from the Kansas City Hitmen

I expect all of my regular readers (yes, both of you) to show up and support local blogging, local midtown dives and local burlesque.

Beats the holy fuck out of a Power & Light District Piano Bar, I can promise you that.

Attendees are ENCOURAGED to come in the costume of their choice.



No matter how stupid you look.

Choosing a President

For many years, my position has been that anyone who has the hubris to actually want to be president bad enough to go through what you have to go through in order to get elected is, by definition, unhinged (sorry for tossing around the clinical jargon), and should be prohibited from holding the office.

I mean, think about it. Who has the temerity, to look at themselves in the mirror and with a straight face think to themselves...

"Out of every citizen of this country, I am the smartest, the most experienced, the wisest and the most qualified to be President of the United States of America and the Leader of the Free World. Me. Nobody else. Just me."

That's some fucking ego right there! Those are brass fucking balls (or tits...don't want to be sexist) of Biblical porportions!

I look at myself in the mirror and think

"How the fuck is it possible I lived to be 53 years old? Why am I not dead or in jail? Or dead in jail from a shankin'? How is it possible that I even manage to hold down a steady job and to raise a child?"

Aren't we all filled with self doubt? Don't we all feel like frauds and charlatans, hoping no one finds out what ignorant and incompotent fucktards we are?

You fucking liar! You do too!

Who looks at themselves and thinks "Yeah. I deserve to fly all over the world on Air Force fucking One and have control over the largest nuclear arsenal on the planet. I can totally see myself doing that. I deserve that."

No, there is something wrong with all of these people.

What we need is a lottery made up of a pool of candidates who meet some basic intellectual qualifications. Here are my qualifications:

The first one is non-negotiable. You can't believe in this:



If you are not only CAPABLE of believing that but actually draw strength, solace, inspiration and direction from it, then I want the Secret Service to gun your ass down if you come within 5 fucking miles of the "nuclear football".

Faith is "belief without evidence". I don't want anyone in charge of this country who is able to reach a conclusion and make a decision without good, solid, researched, verifiable evidence.

No "gut feelings" or "I know it in my heart!" or "trust me" in the fucking White House, thank you very much! I want "It's a fact. Here's the proof. Go check it out yourself if you don't believe me. It's all there."

The second qualification is, don't be a dick.

The last is, understand the difference between being a leader and a bully.

That's pretty much it, really. If you can do those three things and meet the constitutional qualifications about age and citizenship, you name goes in the fucking pool, whether you want it to or not.

The President and Vice President would be chosen at random from this pool by drawing names out of a bucket.

Ideally, we would get an executive who, once in the White House, would do as good a job as they are capable of so that they could be released after 4 years and not required to serve ANOTHER 4 years fixing all the shit they broke.

If you research it, this was pretty much George Washington's attitude.



He knew he needed to accept the job. He knew it was the what the country wanted. He knew it was a sacrifice he had to make. But he couldn't wait to be rid of the burden and get back to being a regular citizen.

Harry Truman had the same point of view.



I like to think that this approach is what the Founding Father's had in mind, they just didn't articulate it very fucking well.

Taxes

I just got my 2008 Personal Property Tax Bill.

My first one since moving to Independence.

Let's see what we have here...

TAX DISTRIBUTION

AGENCY---------------------------LEVY-------------------AMOUNT

Independence School #30----------5.0841-----------------107.28
Jackson County-------------------0.54309-----------------11.46
Mid-Continent Library------------0.3214-------------------6.78
Metro Junior College-------------0.2143-------------------4.52
Mental Health--------------------0.1218-------------------2.57
Board of Disabled Services-------0.0748-------------------1.58
State Blind Pension--------------0.0300-------------------0.63
TOTAL LEVY RATE------------------6.3894-----------------134.82
CITY LICENSE FEE------------------------------------------6.00
TOTAL FOR TAX YEAR 2008--------------------------------$140.82

I got no problem with it.

I'm happy to pay it.

I'd be happy to pay more if it went to expanding KCATA bus routes or light rail. It's hard for poor folks out here to get to Kansas City or Johnson County where the good jobs are. Imagine a two hour commute each way on public transit in bad weather.

I consider it my patriotic duty to chip a little back into the kitty in support of the governmental and financial infrastructure that made it possible for me to put a roof over my head, pay my bills, divorce two wives and raise my daughter.

If me paying more in taxes allows my neighbor the financial security and flexibility to raise his kids and divorce his wife (who has a great rack, a drinking problem and a slutty little tramp stamp)...



...then who am I to be selfish?

Nonsense

I don't really give a shit how much traffic I get on this blog. I have some regular readers who sometimes leave comments. Some them like what I do, some of them don't. That's fine.

The anonymous trolls tend to steer clear because I don't bait or feed them. Pleased about that.

I can't remember the last time I even checked to see how many visitors I get. I know it's been months.

I'm not looking to win any awards, get quoted in the main stream media, or influence political leadership at any level. I just do this because I enjoy it. I'm in love with the sound of my fingers hitting the keyboard like Joe Biden is in love with the sound of his own voice. If other people enjoy it too, well, that's pretty cool.

Having said all that, I sometimes stumble across something like this website grader and if I'm bored enough to be curious, I play along.

I'm pretty bored this morning.

"A website grade of 97/100 for hipsubwg.blogspot.com means that of the hundreds of thousands of websites that have previously been evaluated, our algorithm has calculated that this site scores higher than 97% of them in terms of its marketing effectiveness. The algorithm uses a proprietary blend of over 50 different variables, including search engine data, website structure, approximate traffic, site performance, and others."

I gotta call bullshit on that. There is no fucking way this is anywhere close to accurate. It's simply impossible.

I won't bore you with the whole report. I don't even know what half the shit means.

"A. Metadata
Metadata tags allow you to tell the search engines what your web page is about. Learn more about metadata and why it's important.

Page Title: Hip Suburban White Guy
Meta Description: --missing--
Meta Keywords: --missing--"

What the fuck is "Metadata"? No wonder I don't have any. I don't even know what it is.

"D. Interior Page Analysis: 3 Pages Processed
We looked at a few other pages on your website to see how well they are optimized. This sort of interior page analysis can reveal exciting opportunities for you to target specific keywords or visitors. You can then create landing pages optimized towards converting those visitors into customers.

Page Keywords Description
Hip Suburban White Guy: In Defence of Elitists -- missing -- -- missing --
Hip Suburban White Guy: We Can't Stop Iran (or... -- missing -- -- missing --
Hip Suburban White Guy: The Hip Suburban White... -- missing -- -- missing --


E. Readability Level: Primary / Elementary School
This score measures the approximate level of education necessary to read and understand the web page content. In most cases, the content should be made to be simple so that a majority of the target audience can understand it."

OK. So what?

"B. Google PageRank: 4"

What the hell does this mean?

"C. Google Indexed Pages: 711"

This number means nothing to me. Is this good or bad? No idea.

"E. Traffic Rank: Top 5.87 %
Alexa is an online service that measures traffic for millions of sites on the Internet in a similar way to Nielsen television show ratings.

Your website has an Alexa rank of 1,804,338 which is in the top 5.87 % of all websites."

Impossible. I'm calling shenanigans.

"F. Inbound Links: 13,560
One of the most important measures for a website is how many other sites link to it. The more links the better. Having links to your website from authoritative resources on the Internet helps you rank higher in search engines since these links are an indication that your website is trustworthy and contains good content."

Who the hell are these people and why don't they attend our monthly blog meats?

"B. Blog Ranking: Top 0.36 %
Technorati is a popular blog directory service. It measures the popularity of a given blog as compared to all other sites that have been submitted to its system.

This blog currently has a Technorati rank of 255,487, which puts it in the top 0.36% of blogs tracked by Technorati."

This can't possibly be true. Somebody needs to fix their algorithms.

What a crock of shit. They must be trying to get me to buy something. Not happening.

I think I'll peel myself away from the computer, get showered, take GTO and her friend to Taystee Freeze for milk shakes, and try to talk them into going to the Zombie Walk with me.

Enjoy your Sunday.

In Defence of Elitists

The latest Right Wing ephitat hurled at The Left through lips that contort to even pronounce the word.

"ELITISTS!"

Let's examine this word.

An Elitist would be a member of The Elite.

"e·lite or é·lite (-lt, -lt)
n. pl. elite or e·lites
1.
a. A group or class of persons or a member of such a group or class, enjoying superior intellectual, social, or economic status: "In addition to notions of social equality there was much emphasis on the role of elites and of heroes within them" Times Literary Supplement.
b. The best or most skilled members of a group: the football team's elite."

Let's look at some examples of people who would be considered to be among The Elite.

The U.S. Navy's Blue Angels Flight Demonstration Squadron



The textbook definition of the Elite. These are the absolute best Naval Aviators in the world. Their precision and discipline is unsurpassed. They truly are the Best of the Best. The Cream of the Crop. A Pilot's pilot, each and every one.
They can fly F-18's better than anyone in the world. That put's them in The Elite.

The U.S. Air Force Thunderbirds Air Demonstration Squadron



Although they are the Elite within the U.S.A.F., the Thunderbirds are still the 2nd best pilots in the world. Why 2nd best? Because they don't have to routinely prove that they can land on the front third of a carrier flight deck the relative size of a matchbox, bobbing and weaving in the middle of a violent ocean, and snag an arrestor cable with a trailing hook they can't see, at night, under combat conditions.




Sorry guys. I got nuthin' but luv fo ya. But as long as you have some highway or desert within 100 miles, you are all good to go.

But they can still fly F-16's better than anyone in the world. That put's them in The Elite.

O.K., except for this ballsy Air Force muthafucker.



He get's into The Elite. Dayum!

U.S. Navy Seals



These are, quite literally, the baddest motherfuckers on the Planet Earth. There is no combat unit, from any country that can survive an encounter these guys.



You think the Hell's Angels are bad boys?



They are Red Hat Ladies compared to Navy Seals.



Rocket Scientists



Among engineers, "rocket scientists" are certainly among The Elite. They shape the future and explore the unknown. They go where no man has gone before. You can't get any more "elite" than that.



High Energy Physicists






This shit was built by scientific "elitists". People a whole lot smarter than you.

So, what have we learned about the term "Elitist"?

It pertains to a member of the Elite?

What is "The Elite"?

A group of people who excel at what they do.

The very best and most skilled at their chosen vocation.

So why does the Right Wing think it would be a bad thing to have people who are actually educated, skilled, and know what they are doing to be controlling the direction of the country?

Why do they think some plumber with delusions of grandeur is in a position to dictate strategic financial policy for the entire country?

Why do they think that some buzzword-spouting, hollow-headed, Barbie Doll who has the hubris to think she is qualified to be a heart beat away from the presidency behind a 72 year cancer survivor with a bad temper can possibly be a good thing?

I got news for you folks.

"The Elite" don't just "think they are better than us"...they really are better than us.

That's what make them The Elite!

Colin Powell really does know more about military matters than you do.

Bill Richardson really does know more about negotiating with North Korea than you do.

There are people in this world who actually know what the fuck they are talking about and what they are doing. They have taken the time and effort to educate themselves and become subject matter experts in things more complex than NASCAR eyeware and NFL endorsement trends.

They should be calling the shots.

Not you or me. Not Joe the Plumber.

We can vote and we should.

But we don't have any business directing strategy because we don't have the skills or tools.

That should be left to the "Elitists" who actually know what the fuck they are talking about.

I will vote for an "elitist" over a "guy just like you and me" every fucking time.

We Can't Stop Iran (or anyone else) From Getting Nukes

Iran expanding its Nuke program

Bush: Iran Cannot Gain Nuclear Weapons

Preventing Iran from Acquiring Nuclear Weapons
John R. Bolton, Under Secretary for Arms Control and International Security
Remarks to the Hudson Institute
Washington, DC
August 17, 2004
Israel Has Decided: Iran Will Not Have Nukes

World must prevent Iran from getting nuclear weapon, says Barack Obama

Jewish leader confident Putin will help prevent Iran from getting nuclear arms

Lavrov: Russia won't abide nuclear-armed Iran

It's all bluster and bluff. Like a Spiney Puffer Fish.




Let me make this perfectly fucking clear.

There is no way that any world power can FORCE Iran to NOT develop nukes.

There is only one way to prevent them from developing nuclear weapons.

They have to be convinced that there is no threat to their sovereignty great enough to require nukes as a counter-measure.

How do you make such a convincing case?

By TALKING to them.

By endorsing a Nuclear Free Middle East.

That includes No Nukes For Israel.

Israel has never admitted that they have a nuclear capability. They need to come clean, grant complete transparency to U.N. Inspectors, giving open access to Israel's weapons program. In exchange for every other middle eastern country (Egypt, Libya, Syria, Saudi Arabia, Lebanon, et al) opening themselves to the same level of scrutiny.

When every country in the middle east can "trust, but verify" that their neighbors pose no threat, peace is possible.

The Hip Suburban White Guy's 3 Ugly-Ass Chinese Pig Legs of a Successful Relationship

CAVEAT EMPTOR: I'm no fucking Dr. Phil. Or Oprah. Neither is Dr. Phil. Or Oprah. Nobody knows jack shit about relationships. If there was any magic recipe for a successful relationship, it would have been concocted by someone, somewhere during the past 50,000 years and we would all be using it because it works for everybody all the time. The Relationship Self Help section at Barnes & Noble would have shelves upon shelves filled with one fucking book. So even if some of this makes sense and sounds good, it's wrong. I'm 53 years old and single. BY DEFINITION every relationship I've ever had has failed. What is the one common denominator in all of those failed relationships? ME! So that's your goddamned disclaimer.

"82 years of ‘I do’ — world’s longest marriage?
Husband, wife say they feel same affection for each other as in 1923"

The subject of relationships has been weighing heavy on my mind lately.

It occurred to me that there are really 3 basic foundations to a successful relationship.

I was going to use the analogy of the "three legged stool" for this post. Until I went out searching for a nice image of a three legged stool and saw how many times that analogy had been metaphorically ass raped and left in a rhetorical ditch.





Fuck that.

I decided to use the analogy of the "ugly ass, three legged pig in China".



The 3 Ugly-Ass Chinese Pig Legs of a Successful Relationship

TRUST

You have to be able to trust the fidelity of your partner. You have to be able to trust that they aren't out there fucking around with someone else. Jealousy is a cancer.

You have to have emotional trust in your partner. You have to know they will never betray you or act against your best interests.

You have to have physical trust in your partner. You have to know they would never, ever, under any circumstances, harm you.

You have to have financial trust in your partner. You have to know that they will never steal from you or defraud you.

There are many other forms of trust in a relationship. If you don't have trust, you don't have a relationship.

INTIMACY

Notice I said Intimacy...not Sex (although hot, sweaty, uninhibited "you can NEVER tell anyone about this!" monkey sex is absolute best form of intimacy by several orders of magnitude).

I don't make that distinction because I'm old. So fuck you.

There are many nuances to intimacy.

A couple with a passion for gardening who derive joy from working in the yard together and making their home beautiful and welcoming to visitors are experiencing a form of intimacy.

A couple that enjoys going out and listening to live music together and hanging with friends are experiencing a form of intimacy.

A couple who support the same sports team and enthusiastically attend every game together are experiencing a form of intimacy.

A couple who fuck each other's brains out 5 ways from Sunday several times a day and go to swinger clubs and host orgy's are experiencing a form of intimacy.

[i like the last one best, but that's just me! :)]


COMMUNICATION

I think this may be the most important aspect of a relationship. You can weather bumps and rough spots in TRUST and INTIMACY as long as you have COMMUNICATION.

But if you aren't talking to each other, or emailing each other, or texting each other, or phoning each other...if there isn't any communication, if you have no channel for exchanging information, if you are emotionally blind and have to guess what is going on in the relationship...then you can't fix or deal with any problems in the TRUST or INTIMACY areas.

I think that's all I have to say without getting a bit too personal.

Shatner upset Takei didn't invite him to wedding

"LOS ANGELES – William Shatner is setting his phaser to stun against his old "Star Trek" co-star George Takei. In a video posted on Shatner's Web site Wednesday, he lashed out at Takei for not inviting him to his wedding last month.

The 77-year-old Kirk said Takei, who played Enterprise helmsman Sulu, apparently harbors a grudge against him that kept him from being invited to Takei's nuptials.

"The whole thing makes me feel badly," Shatner said in the video. "Poor man. There is such a sickness there. It's so patently obvious that there is a psychosis there. I don't know what his original thing about me was. I have no idea."

Are you fucking kidding me? He has "no idea"?

Was he too drunk to remember this BIG CLUE?



I thought George was pretty fucking clear how he felt about Shatner.

The Importance of Appearing Presidential

I really don't think I need to add anything except this.

Thanks stinkbait!

In Which I Joust With Yet Another Right Wing Nut Job.

The other night I'm sitting here "minding my own business", if you know what I mean, when my friend Satyavati devi dasi popped up in Yahoo IM requesting my assistance.

For those of you who don't follow her blog (you should), here is her bio:

"About Me

Hare Krishna RN specializing in bhakti-yoga, patisserie extraordinaire,micro-farming, invertebrate palaeontology, bass guitar, socialist propaganda, proletariat uprisings and flight of ideas. Original compositions and incidental wedding music extra. Call for details."

How can you not love someone that intelligent, quirky and exotic?

She had been attempting to carry on an intelligent dialog with a conservative blogger who calls himself...wait...get ready for it..."Jo-Joe Politico".

Here is HIS bio:

"About Me

I was born in Miami, Florida, the son of an Air Force officer, traveled the world, was saved at age 17, and have served the Lord since. That's me on the right and my lovely wife, Bonnie...the pretty one...on the left."

I think that tells you everything you need to know about "Jo-Joe".

The first two paragraphs of the post she was responding to should tell you what we were up against.

"The reason I created this blog [xo - he means "post", not "blog". Bugs me when people don't know the difference] was not to list the facts about political candidates, good or bad, but to try to give some meaning, from my perspective, to those facts.

For instance, Why is it important to know that John McCain was a POW? Why is it important to know that BO hung around with a domestic terrorist?"

The illustration to this post was a picture of an A4 Skyhawk, but it wasn't one like McCain would flown.


It had the green and brown camo scheme of a ground based aircraft, not the battleship grey scheme of carrier based aircraft.


That sort of sloppy research pisses me off. But I digress.

A bit later in this diatribe, we get the following:

"John McCain has personal experience being assaulted by terrorists, which experience he gained as a POW in the infamous HANOI HILTON.

He understands how terrifying terrorists are.

Barack Obama, on the other hand, has aligned himself with known terrorists, in the person of William Ayers and his wife.

While I do not mean that BO participated in any direct terrorist activity. As far as I know, he did not, but with association comes alliance and with alliance comes complicity.

BO comes closer to being more aware of how to commit terrorism than to combat it."

Obviously, I had to respond to this nonsense. Which I did. However I am unable to reprint my original response here because "Jo-Joe" responded by simply deleting my comment and leaving this comment of his own:

"Joe has left a new comment on the post "IMPORTANT OR NOT?":

Xavier Onassis: "I can see the moon. That don't make me an astronaut."

Don't make you no linguist, neither.

You have engaged in the same twisted stuff your ilk always does.

You are a spewer of hatred spewing your hatred toward those who dare disagree with you.

Bye!

October 18, 2008 1:12 AM"

Well, now you know me. I had no choice but to step things up. And through the techno-miracle of gmail thread tracking, I have all of the other responses that he deleted. Ain't technology great?

"Xavier Onassis has left a new comment on the post "IMPORTANT OR NOT?":

"Don't make you no linguist, neither.

You have engaged in the same twisted stuff your ilk always does.

You are a spewer of hatred spewing your hatred toward those who dare disagree with you.

Bye!"

"Twisted stuff"? So, logic and reason is now "twisted stuff"?

Explaining the facts and shining the light of truth is now "spewing hatred"?

Wow. Just...wow.

Post a comment."

Which he of course promptly deleted and again left his own comment:

"Joe has left a new comment on the post "IMPORTANT OR NOT?":

Xavier Onassis: Well, you are pretty scary, but that is not why I deleted your comment.

I've been to your blog, and find it to be everything that is wrong in our country today, so I don't want people to accidentally be directed there from my blog.

Since this is my blog, I get to do what I want with it, including deleting your comments.

You don't have to like it. I'm sure you won't. I'm just as sure that you'll have some vile, vulgar remarks to say, not having the wisdom to understand why "freedom of speech" is not license to say what you want, when you want, where you want.

So, once again...goodbye.

Post a comment."

My turn again...

"Xavier Onassis has left a new comment on the post "IMPORTANT OR NOT?":

Your Rules [xo - taken from the right column of his blog]...

1. Absolutely no foul language. If you are not man or woman enough to control your language, you are not welcome here...go somewhere else.

My comment contained no foul language.

2. I am not looking for strings of commenters arguing with each other, so confine your comments to the topic at hand and address your comments to me, unless you can be exceptionally gracious and polite.

My Comment did not address or attach any other commenter. I confined my comment to the topic at hand and addressed my comments to you.

3. Since this is my blog, I am the sole arbiter of what can be placed on this blog. My decisions are final and without recourse.

AH! Here we are. This was my crime. I disagreed with you using actual, real, verifiable facts that you were unable to refute with facts of your own so you just deleted me. So very typical of your "ilk".

4. Within the scope of those rules, you may feel free to have fun here (I sure will). Sarcasm, wit, half-wit, nit-wit, parody, satire, puns (especially puns), etc. are encouraged.

Apparently not.

Post a comment."

Ol' "Jo-Joe" seemed to have stepped away from his computer for a bit. After all, it was well after 1am by now. So I was able to get a couple more comments up that stayed there for a while:

"Xavier Onassis has left a new comment on the post "IMPORTANT OR NOT?":

When the facts aren't on your side, delete the facts.

Typical McCarthy style, Christo-fascist, right-wing Republican censorship.

Since you deleted my effort to engage in intelligent dialogue, I no longer have any incentive to be polite. Do I?

Ring any bells? Like when Bush announces that he won't talk to our enemies until they unconditionally agree to be our friends?

Post a comment."

"Xavier Onassis has left a new comment on the post "IMPORTANT OR NOT?":

I guess I'll just have to publish a post on my blog about what occurred here tonight to get the truth out and flank your attempt to suppress Free Speech and the First Amendment.

Way to uphold the Constitution.

You are so silly.

Post a comment."

"Xavier Onassis has left a new comment on the post "IMPORTANT OR NOT?":

"I've been to your blog, and find it to be everything that is wrong in our country today"

Like the fact that I allow anyone to comment about anything and have never deleted a comment or blocked anyone from commenting?

The fact that I exercise and encourage Free Speech is "...everything that is wrong in our country today"?

I can see where a person like you might feel that way.

I encourage you to come back to my blog and express your opinion.

I look forward to the debate.

Post a comment."

But he eventually made it back, deleted all of the above comments and left his own:

"Joe has left a new comment on the post "IMPORTANT OR NOT?":

Xavier Onassis: (Oh...I stayed away too long and you came back)You're wearing out your welcome...ever since your second comment.

Bye

Post a comment."

He then left his FINAL WORD on the subject:

"Joe has left a new comment on the post "IMPORTANT OR NOT?":

"Xavier Onassis: You've been told that the Constitution guarantees you the right to free speech.

It does no such thing.

It guarantees that congress (the law making bodies of the federal government) cannot abridge your right to free speech.

You really should have paid attention in Social Studies class.

It says nothing about the rest of society, of which I am part.

Post a comment."

By this time it's 2am and I am sick of trying to teach a pig to sing, so I let it go.

And I agree with "Jo-Joe" that a person's blog is their castle and he is free to do whatever the fuck he wants. It neither breaks my bones nor picks my pocket.

But the reason I go to the trouble of re posting this nonsense is because it is SO TYPICAL of the Right Wing blogosphere and the Right Wing in general.

I have been BANNED from commenting on two prominent Right Wing blogs.

Little Miss Chatterbox banned me.

Mike's America banned me.

My crime? Calling SHENANNIGANS on their bullshit and refuting it with links to actual facts. Facts are like Kryptonite to conservatives.

And I'm sure that Jo-Joe Politico would ban me if he knew how, but I don't think he's all that web savvy.

Yesterday, Barack Obama held rallies in St. Louis and Kansas City. Both were free and open to the public. He attracted an estimated 100,000 attendees in St. Louis and another 75,000 in Kansas City.

That is the largest single day political gathering for a single candidate EVER in U.S. history.

Republicans, on the other hand, carefully restrict attendance at their political events by requiring tickets that are only dispensed to loyal and vetted Republicans, or by charging thousands of dollars "per plate" for boiled chicken and canned green beans.

Democrats and Liberals are not afraid of open debate and the free exchange of ideas. The only bloggers in my circle of friends who have had to block anyone from commenting were bloggers that feared for the safety of their family because of specific and credible threats from right wing, religious, nut jobs with guns.

Republicans and Conservatives are TERRIFIED of open debate and the free exchange of ideas. Circle the wagons, erect the fences, defend the borders, DO NOT let any idea enter the Inner Sanctum that contradicts what we already know is true.

DELETE! CENSOR! BAN! Whatever it takes to keep contradictory thoughts and ideas from corrupting the indoctrination of the faithful.

The lack of intellectual acuity, analytical acumen, or even basic curiosity and skepticism in the face of outrageous assertions among right wing conservatives is astounding.

Vote on November 4th.

92 Days!

Colin Powell might endorse Obama

"Retired Gen. Colin Powell, once considered a potential running mate for Sen. John McCain (R-Ariz.), now may endorse his opponent, Sen. Barack Obama (D-Ill.), according to Republican sources. But an air of mystery surrounds Powell's planned live appearance Sunday on NBC's "Meet the Press," and no one is sure what he will say."

Rebooting Superman

I was disappointed with 2006's Superman Returns.



It was basically a refilming of Richard Donner's Superman: The Movie and Richard Lester's Superman II, but all sort of mushed up together with better CGI and a better Lex Luthor. There just didn't seem to be any point to it. Why retell a story the same way it was told before?



Back in August I read a story on io9.com that scared the shit out of me.

According to the article,

"Warner Bros. Pictures Group President Jeff Robinov told the Wall Street Journal that the Superman movie the WB is envisioning will be cut from the same dark and gritty cape as Dark Knight. He wants to explore the darker recesses of Superman's soul explaining that "We're going to try to go dark to the extent that the characters allow it."

Now that's just fucking stupid. Superman doesn't have a dark and gritty side. He is the eternal, uncorruptable Boy Scout. Trying to turn Superman into some, dark, brooding, conflicted, reluctant hero would just blow chunks! It would be such obvious pandering.

Then I read an artice last month over at Ain't It Cool News by contributer Moriarty (Drew McWeeny) where he discussed the possibility of basing the next Superman movie on a novel by Tom De Haven that Warner Brothers already owns. The novel is "It's Superman!".



Intrigued and curious, I read some reviews on Amazon.com to see what was up. Here are some samples:

"De Haven now undertakes an authorized re-imagining of the early years of Superman. De Haven convincingly and touchingly depicts the young Clark Kent's apprehensions and insecurities as he comes to terms with his extraordinary abilities in 1930s rural Kansas. Concurrently, he tracks Lois Lane's beginnings in journalism and the plotting for power of New York City political boss Lex Luthor (no "Metropolis" masquerade here). While hewing to the basic outline of the venerable Superman mythos--his intergalactic background, his straight-arrow upbringing in Smallville, and his blue-and-red costume--De Haven finds ways to make even its more outlandish elements work.

Gordon Flagg
Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved"

"De Haven skillfully juggles parallel narratives, shifting among Clark's attention-getting early heroics (e.g., catching a speeding bullet in midair), Lois Lane's rapid climb up the big-city journalism ladder (interrupted by romantic friendships, one with Polish-American photographer Willi Berg, whose path also crosses Clark's) and criminal mastermind (A)lex(ander) Luthor's ascent to prominence as NYC alderman and evil genius whose plans to control the world involve deploying a fleet of semi-indestructible robots. Shades of Fritz Lang's "Metropolis," then, as well as the comics' world of cartoonish overkill. De Haven gradually brings Clark out of Kansas, as he rides the rails across America, discovers his humanity (and vulnerability) along with his ability to fly, encounters perpetually endangered Lois (later his reluctant colleague at the Daily Planet) and resists the criminal blandishments of Lex Luthor (who, in a wicked biblical parody, attempts to seduce our hero by promising, "I'll give you the world").

-Kirkus"

That was enough for me to check it out from the library.

I really enjoyed this book and think McWeeny was right. Turning this story into the next big Superman movie would shake off all of the Donner/Lister/Reeve baggage and truly reinvent the character.

In the book, there is no Krypton, Kal-El, Red Sun/Yellow Sun, Kryptonite, indestructible costume or even an invulnerable Superman. This Superman at least gets little welts when a bullet bounces off his noggin. He even bleeds. Now, he was bleeding, just a little bit, because he was in a house that was completely blown up and destroyed and he came away with an owie on his tummy. So he's still mostly indestructible.

In this book there is just a fireball from the sky, the Kents, and an infant wandering the road. No Jor-El, no Fortress of Solitude. Just a stranger in a strange land with slowly revealed capabilities that scare him and make him feel different, awkward and isolated.

Because it is set in the 1930's there is a lot of atmosphere. A bit of a noir feel. You have a young Clark Kent riding the rails like a hobo with a ne'er do well acquaintance who isn't really a criminal, just a depression era joe who couldn't catch a break, with a penchant for being in the wrong place at the wrong time and making bad decisions. He is on a Kerouacesque journey of discovery.

It even has him working as a stuntman in early Hollywood movies. That is so perfect. Think about it. That's also where he gets his first costume. It was a cheap and gaudy outfit from a cheap B-Movie called "The Saucer Men from Saturn". Hence the "S" shield on the chest. But this isn't the shield and costume most of you are used to. This is the Superman from the Fleischer cartoons of the 1930's.



If Warner Brothers goes this route, I think they should seriously consider bringing in Alex Ross as a part of the production design team.



When he finally makes it to New York, The Daily Planet, Lois Lane, Perry White and Lex Luthor, it all feels very authentic.

Think Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow meets The Hudsucker Proxy.

I really think this approach could make Superman new and fresh by taking him back to his pre-WWII, depression era roots. Back to the time when America was having a hard time of it. The economy was in the crapper, people were out of work, and the people had no hope. When we needed and yearned for a Superman who would fight for Truth, Justice and the American Way.