Species Identification: The Circovicwestian

This creature sports a seemingly non-conformist chic that is -
seemingly, upon further inspection - a conformist combo of punk, wild
west, and victorian posh. Think ripped fishnets, velvet jackets,
cleavage, and cobalt blue hair. There also seems to be an endless
supply of striped socks involved. They move about the various bay
area events where fire art and circus athletics mix to showcase their
non-traditional fine and physical arts. I find them fascinating and
at the same time cliquish and elitist. The appear to be highly tribal
and are almost never seen outside of their familial groupings.

Scientists believe this is an evolved species, having started off many
years ago more Mad Max than Deadwood. They wander around the
Crucible, Maker Faire and Burning Man, and haunt various Oakland and
San Francisco warehouses with their endless supply of lace, black
leather boots, and dreads - listening to music that few homo sapiens
have heard. It is believed that they have a minimal need for food
and sleep as a result of the regular ingestion of chemicals that
provide non-food based stimulation.

The result is that very few of them can be classified as portly or
larger. Quite often the CVW conform to the subjective standards of
homo sapien attractiveness. They have, by no means, evolved from the
underdog, loser, nerd, or dorky classes. They are perhaps the result
of past, unacknowledged, secret, and furtive mating rituals of
inquisitive cheerleaders, with the burn-outs that had the great
hair. Or perhaps a blend of the beauty queen and the tragic, yet
beautiful rock star.

Skynet

September 11th changed everything.  It ushered in a new era of useless security protocol.  I'm in the airport today.  Standing next to the large trash container full of "hazardous" liquids that must be discarded before people can make it through the security line.  That makes me feel safe.

If we are worried about liquids being smuggled onto a plane to create an explosive, why would they allow these potentially lethal items to remain next to the security area?  Most of the time they are piled high in small trash cans, mere inches away from hundreds of passengers.  I think if this was a real threat, a Hazmat team should be carting away each bottle.

That brings up another question.  Are people that uninformed that they do not know the requirements for running the security gauntlet?  Come on!  You know there are no liquids allowed.  Yes, it applies to the 64oz. drink you must finish before the next overflowing trash can full of death.

Speaking of death, if my plane comes down because of the trusting TSA agent that allowed a passenger a bottle of cologne, I'll refuse to post any more blogs!  Unless I survive.  What good is a policy if you can talk your way out of relinquishing your liquids.  Yes, it is a bottle of expensive cologne.  Yes, there is only a quarter of it left.  I understand it's not in a plastic bag as required, but you look like an agent with strong character and good moral judgement.  (Implied) I'm a middle-aged white guy with my wife.  Really, do I really look like a terrorist?

It's all show and bullshit.  We have to practically strip to get on a sardine can with crappy food you have the privilege to buy during the trip.  It's coercion.  The security apparatus has got us all trained, so it will be that much easier to corral everyone when state of emergency is declared and the fascists finally ship democracy off to Guantanamo.

Whoa!  I think my tin-foil hat just exploded.  Well, I'll add that to the list of prohibited items while traveling.

Shut 'er Down

Independent truck drivers went "on strike" the other day. Did you notice? They can no longer afford to haul freight. Yet another example of Capitalism at its finest.

The independent truck drivers should not be striking against high fuel prices. They should be striking for fair compensation for the services they provide.

Way back in my trucking days, it took months for a fuel surcharge to make it through the freight companies to the independents. The company would let you bleed a little before they adjusted the compensation for the increase in fuel cost. It's good business.

Here are my recommendations for the independent truck drivers of America:

1. Park your trucks until the surcharges are guaranteed. I think America would come to a grinding halt within the week.
2. Demand fuel-efficient, hybrid trucks. The technology is already here. Instead of having Congress cut the fuel tax, have them fund a clean truck exchange. We'll all be better for it.
3. Band together and form some kind of organization ... What did they call those things ... Union! That was it! A Union! If only there was one of those still around ... dedicated to people in transportation. Yeah, I know the Teamsters are there. You should join. And if you don't like the way it's run, change it. When your a member, you can do stuff like that.
4. Lobby to get rid of NAFTA. Foreign trucks only dilute the potential power of the truck drivers. It has nothing to do with immigration, or hating on Mexico or Canada. It has everything to do with corporations exploiting and devaluing labor.

Well that was short and sweet. Now that my advice is out there, I can sit back and watch the world become a better place.

Welcome to the Invasion Party.

Happy Birthday Invasion!!! I know we have been at odds lately. Ok. Ok. You're right. We've been at odds from the start. Buy can't we get along? ...No. It was a stupid idea. Actually, a stupid deception. On this anniversary, I'm reminded of how many of my fellow citizens were cowed and cajoled into supporting this damn war effort.

I don't think many people actually believed Saddam had WMDs. Maybe people were still smarting from the September 11, 2001 attacks and Afghanistan didn't provide enough raw meat for the dogs of vengeance. We lost the person "responsible" for 9/11 somewhere in the hills! There was no resolution!

This is where the real evil seeps up from the sewer. What better way do distract from this huge failure than to get even with the perennial favorite evildoer, Saddam Hussein. That would surely satisfy the call for blood! Eye for an eye, folks! That's how it's done!

Phuleeese. We have squandered great opportunities to become a just and respected nation. Instead, of building up relationships with our Allies, we have become belligerent, stubborn, and mean. Instead of investing in improving the lives of our own citizens, we would rather bomb the have-nots in other lands.

I wonder if there would be such a call for the end to the war if gasoline wasn't $3.60 per gallon. Why have we sacrificed 3900+ American lives in Iraq if it wasn't for cheap gas? The hawks were wrong. None of the rhetoric proved to be true. Everything they told the people was wrong. They should be held accountable. Those that do not want to hold them accountable are becoming more and more culpable for these actions. This sad, pathetic adventure as been allowed to fester for long enough.

So, Happy Birthday Iraq invasion! Fuck you.

Democracy in Action?

I just returned from a meeting of democratically minded folk in the form of a democratic club.  A few nights back, we sponsored an "election" between candidates for the local assembly districts.  As it turns out, most all the members thought we did a good job with the event.  There were a few people, and candidates that felt the "election" was unfair and not transparent enough.

I thought the whole thing was a bit of a cluster-fuck, and have vowed never allow us to be this unprepared again.

So the question that came up in this evening's planning meeting: should we re-vote.  Here is the thought process.  We designed a poor ballot and voting process.  Why?  It was due mostly to time.  The members of our group didn't make this enough of a priority before the meeting.

I think that by admitting the mistakes publicly, posting the new changes, and allowing for membership commentary, these steps would have a positive effect.  Then, we have a re-vote based on the new procedures.

The other camp suggested that we should keep the results as they are, and have another vote to fill remaining seats (not all seats were filled by the first vote).  Of course, this brings up fairness issues all around (in my mind).  The basic feeling among others in the group was that by having a re-vote, that would disenfranchise those who took the time to vote the first time.  The argument also suggests that because there was a problem with the first vote, that the membership would become distrustful of the leadership.

  

Are Americans that lazy and fragile?  Wouldn't the population be appreciative of a government (or club) that could admit to a mistake and take actions to correct it?  I think it would be refreshing for the powers-that-be to show some humility and re-vote.

So what is more representative of democratic, grass-roots action?  Is it good enough to make the changes and move forward, or make the changes and re-vote?

Anyone from the Florida Democratic Party wanna field this one? :)

Hungry?

I pulled up to the cookie-cutter strip mall to buy some crap I thought I needed to make my life complete.  There was a man sitting on the sidewalk with a "Please Help"  cardboard sign right in front of the car.  It was getting cold outside.  He looked miserable, and I couldn't help but think of how it must feel to be in that situation.

I hate giving away money.  Don't mind spending it.  Just hate giving it away.

As I exited the store, I asked the guy if he wanted some dinner.  He said, "Sure!"  So I motioned to the door of the Popeye's Chicken and we both stood in line together.  As we waited, I made some small talk.  He had been sitting there for a few minutes when I had pulled up.  The weather had been pretty nice lately...etc...etc.  

I ordered what he wanted, paid the cashier, and wished him good luck.  I waited in the car for a minute to make sure the staff gave him his food and drink, and to make sure they didn't chase him out the door as soon as I walked out.

Sometimes, people need to step up and lend a hand.  Sometimes, I need to get off my ass and help someone who needs a little.  Sometimes, people need to take a writing course to create a more interesting narrative.

Oh, well.  What am I getting at?  Make that difference today.  Be that ray of sunshine that bursts through.  Even if you have to actively tell yourself to be a happier person, do it today.  The worst that can happen is you become that happier person and the people in white coats haul you off to the funny farm.  Would that be soooo bad?

Requiem for a Beloved Pet

Introducing miss Kali-Ma, named after the Hindu goddess of life, death, change, and transformation. Last Sunday night, we said goodbye to her after 13 really good years. The vet suspected that some blockages in her intestines were cancerous and thought we'd only have about 6 more months with her if we'd put her through surgery. Sadly, we thought it better all around if she fell quietly to sleep than went through that. I will miss her terribly.

I love this picture. It's taken under the kitchen table. She used to sit with us when we ate. Her little ears would pop up over the table, and if we said "hello Kali", she'd poke her whole head up. We have three cats, but as Aaron very astutely pointed out "we had a different relationship with Kali than we do with the other cats." He was right on with that comment. Kali, unlike the other two, was very people-centered. She always followed us around to the rooms we were in and would purr just being near us - no petting required :) She greeted us at the door when we came home. She easily let us hold her and came when she was called. I remember many-a weekend day when I'd say "who wants to take a nap?" and Kali was the only one to join me. She always did. I made that poor cat move 8 or 9 times, even once putting her on a plane in cargo to move from Chicago to San Francisco. She was always a good sport, and as long as we were at the new destination, she adapted quickly.

So, I've lost a little bit of comfort in my life. I'm adjusting my mental map of the world slowly - a map without my little orange tabby following me around, being at the foot of the bed when I can't sleep, stupendously yapping away to get someone's attention. Things are a little quieter, a tiny bit lonelier, and tinged with a bit of sadness. Thank you to Aaron, Hobbes & Kim (the other two cats), friends and family for your sweet words. In the greater scheme of things, the loss of a cat seems trivial, but it's an adjustment none-the-less, so thanks for helping me make it. Love, loop