God, Please Save These Troubled States

I'm writing this as the day is ending and there's a part of me that feels it would be oh-so-poetic if I managed to finish it just as the clock struck midnight. The calendar would turn to February 28th. It would mean that exactly one year ago, I signed up for Buzznet.

Yeah. I know. It's an odd thing to want to celebrate how long you've been visiting the same website over and over again. Perhaps I want to suggest that Buzznet has become...something more?

After getting fired from perhaps one of the absolute worst jobs I have ever had, I quickly answered a Craigslist ad that, more or less, asked one to prove that they are an internet nerd.

I scoffed. I laughed. Perhaps a guffaw or two. I could prove that, NO PROBLEM. So I sent in my resume, along with a lengthy cover letter documenting how unhealthly I was obsessed with the interwebs.

My interview here (nearly a month and a half after I sent in my shit) was surreal; I ended up having an incredibly unprofessional conversation with both Marc Brown and Anthony Batt about music, Black Flag, swimming in the MacArthur Park Lake, and how I'd come to fully embrace the fact I was a nerd.

I was originally hired to help program content. Make sure we had the right stuff. Help build communities. My first Buzznet child was the AFI community. (We all know how that bastard has grown up.) I also help to father the Buzznet obsession with Snakes On a Plane. (The movie, not the song.)

It was at the end of summer, when Buzznet asked me to start writing, that I became truly attached to this site. Marc and Anthony realized they had a talented group of writers on their hands: myself, Lizy, and Bree. Not just because we all knew how to type correctly, spell with skill, and form proper sentences: we fucking knew what we were talking about.

782 videos, 304 photos, and 328 journal posts later, I'm now a full time writer for Buzznet. I am also leaving early tomorrow to satisfy a lifetime goal of mine: follow a band I love on the road and write about them. I resume my AFI Road Trip and I keep thinking I'm going to wake up tomorrow and none of this will be real.

But it is. I get to use Buzznet both as a platform for what education I do have (as a double major in Political Science and Religious Studies) and as a way to intellectually challenge myself; my bosses have never censored me; every idea I've had has been met with support and affirmation. (Buzznet Originals, for example, the one thing I'm most proud of.)

And I get to interact with people like you. Everyday. I laugh. I cry. I smile from ear to ear. I bang my fist on the keyboard. I threaten to throw co-workers out the window. I beg Todd to please tell me why people are so fucking stupid. I hope to grow up and be exactly like Allan when I'm older.

I love it all. This isn't a job and it has never felt this way to me. It's like I come into these offices and I get to have an internet party. Then a debate party. Then an intelligence party. Then a hate party. Then a "make-fun-of-dumb-people" party. And this is supposed to be a job?

Thank you. Thank you for making this the best 365 days of my life. I have worked the worst jobs ever. I've been taken advantage of, cheated, pushed around, and treated like a substandard human being. I have never once felt that way here.

Here's to one year at Buzznet. And here's to another year of madness. I can't fucking wait.

And will you look at that? It's 12:01pm. I rule.

THANK YOU:
Marc and Anthony. For hiring me. And dealing with me being completely insane.
My coworkers. You rule.
Lizy for being the BEST FRIEND EVER.
Todd for sometimes knowing exactly what I'm thinking.
Parker for beards and good music.
Bree for girl talk and your ability to be the most logical human being on the planet. Marry me.
Karen: OMG DID YOU WATCH LOST LAST NIGHT?????

Funksteena: You are too far away.
Nettyscetty: Fightin' batonclubs one ignoramus at a time.
DoYouLikeIt: What the fuck. I'm sure you live like 2 minutes from me. Fucking hang out with me.
Xris: A+ for you.
DJMark: LOLOMG
AuntieAbby: BOOOOOBBBBIIIEEEEESS
xmisspreternaturalx: THANK YOU FOR INSTANT MESSAGING ME.
huldaholm: I'm so glad you're expanding your horizons.
theshadowboxer: Tour of Chicago?
pixiepah: Sweetest guy ever. Thank you.
Lexidiem: John, thanks for making me laugh and making me think.
heartsapocalypse: I GET TO MEET YOU SOON!
millieann282000: You are a sweetheart!
DawnAnthony: BOOOOOOOOBBBIIIES! :)
Timmay: BBBBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOBBBBBBBBBIIIIIIIEEEEEEESSSSSS!
FreakPowerTix: I'm going to spend a day in SB soon just to hang out with you. You were the first Buzzy I ever met. :)
CountryNeal: We need to form a band. Soon.
Fabriciobraga: Thanks for always commenting and being a fantastic photographer!
Shapeshifter: You always make me smile.
tomdog: You rule.
artsysf: A true original and a wonderful person. :)
Paxgitmo: Please tell me I will get to meet you soon?
JerryCooke: Even if we both skate different types, SKATE 4 LYFE!!!!
AlexV: You always make me laugh.
MichaelBell: Smart and creative! Thank you.


There are many more. I need to sleep. Ha. Sorry!!!

I was lucky enough to catch Nine Inch Nails when they toured for With Teeth and, suffice to say, it was one of the most spectactular live shows I've seen in a long time.

I've had a longtime love affar with the band; my older brother turned me on to Pretty Hate Machine when I was a wee lad. To finally see the band live was watching my life come full circle.

Anyway, enough reminiscing. The few clips I've seen from the DVD look fantastic. I don't doubt that this will properly capture the intensity of a NIN live show. So get on it!

If you recall, I wrote about the hilariously disturbing site Conservapedia last week. Conservatives apparently need a giant database of fabricated facts at their disposal.

And seriously, this one is so fucking wonderful, I can hardly contain myself:

The Pacific Northwest Arboreal Octopus.

Yeah, you read that right. A tree octopus. Some genius soul has taken full advantage of this wiki and written the most delightfully obvous fake entry I've seen in a long time. And it's still up!

Well played, Anonymous Conservapedia Editor. Well played.

• "The Pacific Northwest Tree Octopus (Octopus paxarbolis) can be found in the temperate rainforests of the Olympic Peninsula on the west coast of North America. Their habitat lies on the eastern side of the Olympic mountain range, adjacent to Hood Canal. These solitary cephalopods reach an average size (measured from arm-tip to mantle-tip,) of 30-33 cm. Unlike most other cephalopods, tree octopuses are Amphibian, spending only their earliest life stages and mating seasons in their aquatic environment. Because of the moistness of the rainforests and their well designed skin adaptations, they are able to keep from becoming dried out for prolonged periods of time."

Great information!

• Reaching out with one of her eight arms, each covered in sensitive suckers, a tree octopus might grab a branch to pull herself along in a form of locomotion called tentaculation; or she might be preparing to strike at an insect or small vertebrate, such as a frog or steal an egg from a bird's nest; or she might even be examining some object that caught her fancy, instinctively desiring to manipulate it with her dexterous limbs (actually closer to "sensory organs" more than mere "limbs",) in order to better know it.

Fascinating!

Al Sharpton has discovered that his ancestors were owned by J. Strom Thurmond's ancestors.

My only response:



Actually, not my only thought. Poxline just pointed out to me that Thurmond's descendents probably fooled around with their slaves. So is it possible that Al Sharpton's got a bit of Thurmond in his blood?

I want to pee myself with joy right now.

I laughed when I first read this story. Now I want to start weeping.

THIS IS NEWS!

A Bolivian-born jaguar that killed a Denver zookeeper was well-behaved as a young cat but his twin was so mean that his handlers named him Osama, a Bolivian zoo official said Monday. Ashlee Pfaff, 27, died from a broken neck and other injuries after the big cat named Jorge attacked her while she was inside an employee hallway that opened into his outdoor enclosure on Saturday, the coroner said.

Jorge — Spanish for George — had been named after President Bush, said Margot Ugarteche, a veterinarian at the Santa Cruz Municipal Zoo of South American Fauna in Bolivia, which sent Jorge to the Denver Zoo.

"Osama was always the more dominant of the two," Ugarteche said. "He was always rough with Jorge. That was the relationship we saw between them.

"Jorge wasn't bad, really," she said. "I don't know what could have happened. Perhaps because he was so well-behaved, the trainer (in Denver) thought she could trust him. But you never know with wild animals."

OH GOD. I can only imagine the fall out from this.

Kids, don't name your pets after public figures unless they're dead already. (I totally want a basset hound so I can name it Abraham Lincoln.)

Here's Jorge:

From the band's MySpace blog:

There are many rumors going around right now about our band, and we have finally ended up in a position to be able to share with you what has happened over the last couple months since the Atreyu Tour fiasco, the cancellation of the Lost Prophets tour, and our backing out of the Give It A Name festival.

Sonny Moore has quit the band and is working on a solo career. We (Good, Richter, Bloom and Matt Manning -- now an official member, by the way) were in the studio writing for the new record getting ready to fly to Los Angeles to meet up with Sonny to record the record when we got the news about him leaving.

We know that Sonny's departure is going to be a huge deal to a lot of our fans, and we are sorry that these things continue to happen to us (and you). We all tried to make compromises, but sometimes artists just have to do things for themselves.

The band has decided to continue pushing on, even though they've also been dropped from Capital Records.



Why am I posting about this? One, it's music news and we keep you updated here at Buzznet.

I also want to say that I have never quite despised a band as much as From First To Last. I had the distinct misfortune of seeing them open Night 1 of Bad Religion's DVD performance at the Palladium in November of 2004. One of the worst bands I have ever witnessed. Oh man. OH MAN, my head hurts from just thinking about it.

I don't wish ill will on them, though. That's not the point of this. I'm just interested to see how a band with such a........charasmatic lead singer is going to push on without him.

Simply put: Will anyone care about From First To Last without Sonny Moore?

Blaq Audio now has an official MySpace, according to AltPress.com.

We'll get new songs over the next few weeks, apparently.

"In case you were curious as to what Blaqk Audio is, it is an electronic group/band/duo, featuring Jade Puget and Davey Havok from AFI. Jade programs all the music and Davey is the vocalist.

The music, which the world hasn't heard a single note of yet, runs the gamut of electronic music, from dark to dancy to grinding.

There is a full album nearing completion and will most likely be released within the next couple of months."

There ya go.

Holy crap.

HOLY.
CRAP.

Rage has announced three additional shows for the 2007 calendar year: playing the Rock The Bells hip-hop festival in New York, San Francisco, and San Bernardino.

Rage.
Wu Tang.

Must I concede that God exists?

I DON'T EVEN KNOW IF HYPOCRISES IS A REAL WORLD, BUT I DON'T CARE.

I swear to you, I am not making this up. Sean Hannity actually said this:

"CBS has a bias. We don't."

@#$@##$^%&^*&(*(%^&#$%#@$#@$~!!!!!!!!!!!!

YES YOU DO! EVEN I HAVE A BIAS! I ADMIT IT!

Fucking shove me down some stairs.

And if I believed there was a God up above, I'd implore him to PLEASE get Biblical and intervene. Right fucking now. Please?

According to "highly placed defense and intelligence sources," there's a handful of powerful generals prepared to resign if we go to war with Iran.

President Bush isn't going to listen, but I think this is even more evidence that we should stop agitating Iran. PLEASE.

There's a part of me that understands why parents would want to prevent their children from learning about gay marriage. I suppose I empathize with the protective nature of parents. (My mom helped me to understand that.)

But it's only homosexuality. It's not a disease. It's not drug use. It's just dudes and gals loving other dudes and gals. (Respectively, of course.)

Sigh. I suppose it's not that simple. You have to factor in the Bible, then sin, then years of religious conditioning, and.....

Yeah. I get it. But atleast now these children might just have a chance of growing up with an open mind. And maybe they'll realize that just because I like guys doesn't mean I'm Satan-incarnate.

As if the Greek system needed anymore controversy, it appears that the Delta Zeta sorority of DePauw University has given the boot to 23 young woman who weren't "conventionally pretty."

Of these 23 woman cut from the sorority were every member who was overweight or not Caucasian.



Hmm. So much for serving the community. Do sororities and fraternities even have a purpose anymore?

You are a wonderful song by The Smiths and you provide me with interesting and informational reading each and every day.

Today, she dilligently researched the 10 Qualifications to Have Your Own Show on Fox.

I laughed. I wanted to cry. I shook my fist at the computer screen.

Huzzah, sister. You make me proud.

Why has it suddenly become cool to be openly homophobic? Tim Hardaway opens his yapper and says some of the most hateful shit I've heard in a long time and then the Homo Hate Train starts a-chuggin'. What the hell?

And now we've got David Giles. Townhall.com is one of the most intellectually vapid sites on the internet, but I've got to say that this entry takes the cake.

In true Mark fashion, I have to break this shit down. David Giles has no idea what he's talking about and public humiliation might be his only hope to see the error of his ways.

Let's begin!

I think I speak for most heterosexual males when I say I’m not homophobic but chick-o-centric. Let’s keep it positive, okay? It’s not that we dislike you, the gay guy; it’s just that we really like girls. It seems no matter how long we compliantly spend in rehab undergoing the most stringent psychotherapy to rid ourselves of our knee-jerk to your mate choice, the simple fact is . . . heterosexual guys don’t “get” gays. Period.

False! I can't think of a heterosexual male I know who doesn't get my homosexuality. In fact, it is so incredibly simple that maybe even you can understand it:

I am attracted to men. Plain and simple. There is nothing more to it. Just as you may be attracted to skinny white blondes with highlights and trucker hats, I find men who resemble this:

to be quite attractive.

There is nothing more to get.

Please, rehab freaks, you’re wasting your time on the heterosexual tribe trying to get us to be cool with that which is incomprehensible to us. Just like the homosexual, we are quite happy with our sexual bent and our own little world, so leave us alone, por favor.

Blanket assumptions don't bode well for arguments, Mr. Giles. I am not happy with my own little world, nor the world. I am not trying to make you "cool" with me. In fact, I wouldn't even want you as a friend. I'm trying to instill the value of tolerance in people like yourself; therefore, it is difficult to tolerate other people if you insist on pegging them with inaccurate stereotypes and exercising some bizarre form of "separate but equal" ideology.

Oh, and most of us homosexuals think that going to rehab for homophobic slurs is pretty ridiculous anyway.

Now, this doesn’t mean that heterosexuals hate you, the homosexual. It simply means we’re focused on women; which, by command, causes our paths of camaraderie to part. No, this is not a phobia and it doesn’t mean we loathe you. It’s simply the funk of nature. As a matter of fact, I have several friends that are gay. I kind of view them like dolphins; they’re fun, entertaining and creative. I truly enjoy their presence. I just don’t know what they get out of eating mullet. My homosexual acquaintances view me in a similar light.

I will say this: It doesn't help your position to state that view homosexuals as nothing more than an animal in the wild or, even worse, some creature in a zoo exhibit that exists solely for your own amusement. Yeah. It doesn't help.

In the spirit of continuing diplomatic relations with homosexuals, you the gay person, has got to help me out a little bit. If girls are so icky and men are so mondo-jovial, why do you and a lot of your reps take on feminine mannerisms and dress? I would think that if you are going to be gay you would at least be a man about it.

It is not diplomatic to state that you do not understand homosexuality and then insist you know why men are gay.

A little lesson in gay: I don't think girls are icky. Boobs are nice. Vaginas don't scare me. (Contrary to popular belief!) In fact, I have even been turned on by chicks in porn. The world isn't over yet. Sexual attraction does not ever imply sexual disgust of the opposite gender. Well, in homophobes it does.

Homosexuality doesn't have reps either. It has people you've chosen to single out to make a terrible point. Did it ever occur to you why so many gay men are effeminate? Perhaps because they didn't choose to be that way? Maybe because it's biological?

Nah. That's too smart for you.

It’s the same thing with many lesbians. I don’t get you. When I hear you speak, it’s always “men suck, men are beasts, women rule,” yet some of you “ladies” dress and act like men. You wear men’s Dockers, men’s Polos, you’ve got a short, man’s hair cut, you’re looking like Joe Pesci with breasts. You’re an ugly version of us. I’m just thinking out loud here. What’s-the-dillio? Please explain. It seems as if you would embrace femininity in all its glory like Carrot Top does red hair coloring. Where am I going wrong?

Again, using specific people, incidences, or subcultures of an entire group to slander everyone really isn't a mature or intelligent thing to do. Stop it. (Where's my rolled-up magazine?)

Now, let me help you, the gay constituency, to understand us girl lovers a tad. Most Chick-O-Centric males would not raise an unwaxed eye brow at a homosexual man if he would not shove his gayness in our faces. It’s the flamers that freak out most heterosexuals. Case in point: Bobby Trendy and Jay Alexander. They seem like nice guys, but the pink hair, lip gloss, heavy eye liner, constant limp wrist and lisp is overkill. Why not, instead of emulating a TBN host, you follow Rob Halford’s lead? That would make it much easier for us to have a beer with you. C’mon . . . work with us, we’re trying to get along.

So much wrong in so little space.

If you can admit that flamboyant homosexuals are what make you uncomfortable, why can't you exercise this type of differentation throughout the rest of your little rant?

Not the point. The point is that I could easily assert that you are flamboyant too. And that would probably rile your feathers.

How? you ask. Look:



Definition from Merriam-Webster.

I think I could argue and prove that your insistence of your own heterosexuality is "strikingly elaborate." Hell, you can't seem to go a single paragraph without going to great lengths to prove that you're straight. Add to that your interesting word choice, your use of various characters to prove your point, and I'd say that's some pretty "colorful display or behavior."

No, no, it's ok, David Giles! Unlike you, I can look past your flamboyant behavior and accept you as a real human being. I mean, I don't think that your overbearing straight-ness should ruin our potential interaction, right?

Here are 10 more things you should know about most typical heterosexual males:

This should be fun.

1. Just because we like art and fine furniture, wash our cars, regularly bathe and brush our teeth, and like nice clothes doesn’t mean we’re latent. What it means is that your team doesn’t have a monopoly on taste or decorum.

Fuck you. There's no such thing as "teams." We're people, not competing sports organizations. There you go again, having to make everything so straight. God! How am I supposed to respect you if you keep throwing that shit in my face time and time again???

2. No, we don’t want highlights in our hair or a manicure/pedicure.

This doesn't even make sense.

3. We think Vespas are for beautiful girls to ride. Not guys. Harley’s, custom West Coast Choppers, Triumphs, Indians or Von Dutchs = a dude’s bike.

I think you are a sexist asshole. Not only do you insist on gay men fitting a specific role, but you also think women should fit a defined role as well.

NEWSFLASH, DAVID GILES: GENDER IS NOT DEFINED BY ACTION. IT IS NOT THAT SIMPLE.

4. We don’t like dogs that have “toy” as a prefix to their name.

I don't like you.

5. A hunted wild animal’s gut pile is a glorious and beautiful thing. Long live the hunt and the hunter.

This also makes no sense. Is this just a random shot at vegetarians and vegans? It doesn't seem to have anything to do with homosexuality at all.

Ah, but it seems your flamboyant side is popping up again! Stop shoving your straightness in my face!

6. Keep your lip gloss; we’ll use our Carmex.

Keep your misguided and ignorant opinions to yourself.

7. We like boots not flip flops.

This is an outright lie. I have seen more Orange County bros wearing flip flops than West Hollywood gays.

8. Normal men do not like Celine Dion. If you see us crying during one of her shows, it’s not because she struck a nerve with a ballad; but rather we are lamenting our manhood slowly draining away from us as we sit here, for the eight time, and listen to this chick whine.

You idiot! Normal people do not like Celine Dion.

9. When we look at a pretty girl, we think “wow” and say, “howdy.” To us, the lovely lady lumps trump a man’s hairy back any day. Call us crazy.

That's not crazy. That's sexual preference. If you want us to respect yours, you have to respect ours.

10. We don’t think Adam and Steve is an improvement or alternative to Adam and Eve. But that’s just us.

Neither do I. Fuck God, the Bible, and Christianity.

Now, lastly, for those of you heterosexuals that are in competitive sports and don’t like to shower with gays, that’s cool. It’s your right to scrub your butt with whomever you choose. You gay guys should understand our reluctance and not make a big deal over it. I confess, I’m uncomfortable with showering with a homosexual, unless of course it was Portia de Rossi, and I wasn’t married.

To remedy this situation, I propose the following: how about two shower facilities: one for the heterosexuals demarked by a gigantic poster of Beyonce’s Sport’s Illustrated Swimsuit cover and one for the homosexuals with a big honking 48 x 60” framed print of Ryan Seacrest wearing a chartreuse colored Speedo. There now … is everybody happy?

No, I'm not happy. Do you know how comfortable flamboyant straights like yourself have made people like me in the locker rooms? When you insist on displaying how hetero you are by talking about some chick you saw outside and then insist on asking my opinion, and then insist on giving me a hard time when I brush you off. I guarantee that assholes like yourself have made things more awkward for all the gay men (out of the closet or not) who aren't as flamboyant or open as yourself.

I wouldn't be surprised if you also thought that black men should take showers in a separate room from you. Not saying you are racist, but you seem to think that a "separate and different" mentality is the way to go.

Ugh. Keep your flamboyantly straight actions out of my face!

I try to work out everyday because I enjoy feeling like I'm in shape. Plus, I want to run a few more races this year and if I get lazy, I know I won't continue to work out.

I joined a gym last September after my father died. His passing was like a proverbial kick in the ass for me to lose weight and start running again; I made it a goal of mine to run a 5K by the end of the year. (I did on December 9th.)

Truth is, as much as I enjoy working out, I hate gyms. I hate being inside. I hate running on treadmills. I hate staring at people better looking than me who make it a point to rub that fact in my face. (Seriously, is it entirely necessary to wear a shirt slit entirely down the sides, Mr. I-Am-Buffer-and-More-Muscular-Than-I-Need-To-Be?) I hate that they play really shitty music super fucking loud. I hate being gawked at in the locker room. I hate locker rooms in general.

But I have to face the reality that I live in a giant urban city; we don't have bike paths or wilderness areas or small suburbs. (Atleast anywhere close to me.) And have you ever tried running amidst the hustle and bustle of Los Angeles? First of all, running on concrete isn't good for your knees or shins. Too rough. Also, 99.99999% of all drivers in Los Angeles are oblivious to all pedestrians; we simply don't exist. Running for your life every 30 seconds isn't my idea of fun.

This morning, I decided that I needed to get out of the house and spend some quality time to myself. By myself. After grabbing a bite to eat and checking my Buzznet, I hopped on the 720, which runs down Wilshire straight to the Ocean.

The ride itself was uneventful and took just over an hour. Broadway Calls was the soundtrack; perfect for what felt like a bright, sunny spring day. I found myself tapping my feet, mouthing the words silently, anticipating my adventure to come.

Upon arriving at Santa Monica, I walked over the bridge that connects to the Pier and hopped down a set of stairs to the ocean walk. I rented a bike (for only $6 an hour!) and headed south down the bike path.

Hot Water Music's Caution blared in my ears:

I need a remedy of diesel and dust
Something I can taste with a fix I can trust.
Another high, more potent than lust.
Eating and repeating
like the workings of rust and time.

I woke to the sound and the rhythm of rain
dancing down on the window pane.
Comatose. Eyes half closed.
Arms wrapped up with the wounds all sewn.
I froze from head to toe.
Clenched the jaw,
then felt my body roll over slow.

I must live to know that healing takes some time.


This was my therapy. I'd been stressing over work, money, and lost love. I needed to feel the wind on my face, the sun on my back, and my body working towards keeping me moving. Actually moving. Not stationary action.

The path was crowded through Santa Monica and down the Venice boardwalk, which annoyed me. I was trying to escape everyone else, but I should have anticipated it, since it was Saturday afternoon.

The crowd broke as I climbed up Washington Blvd in Venice. The bike path was just a lane on the road, but after a few blocks, it veered to the right.

I was alone. I passed 4 bikers total in the next 3 miles. As Hot Water Music came to an end, I switched my background music to The Smiths. I was in a Hatful of Hollow mood; I told William that it was really nothing:

How can you stay with a fat girl who'll say :
"Oh ! Would you like to marry me ?
"And if you like you can buy the ring"
She doesn't care about anything
Would you like to marry me ?
And if you like you can buy the ring
I don't dream about anyone - except myself.
Oh, William, William it was really nothing
William, William.

My thoughts wandered to my upcoming AFI road trip, which starts this Wednesday, February 28. I felt a flutter of excitement; I couldn't really fathom that I was going to be following one of my favorite bands across the Western half of the US. For work. (I still can't fathom it. Am I awake?) This caused a resurgance of energy on my part as the bike path forked south through Marina Del Ray. The wind was whipping at my face, so I pulled out some Chapstick so I wouldn't be regretting myself later.

The path made a sharp left and I was in Playa Del Ray, which was on the south side of the Marina. I checked my cell phone to see what time it was; 2:55. I had to be back at the rental shop by 5 in order to get in before they closed. I decided I'd bike for 20 more minutes or so and then head back.

This end of the beach wasn't quite deserted, but I noticed that I didn't have many things to watch out for; I cruised at a brisk pace along the road, gazing out at the endless ocean, my legs pumping me along. The ocean always makes me feel small, but in awe-inspiring sense. I needed to feel this way.

I was now passing through Dockweiler State Beach. LAX stood directly to my left, to the east. Every minute or two, some giant steel bird passed overheard, roaring to some unknown destination. I could hear them over Morrisey's voice. It was weird to think that such an industrious and busy place was mere yards from an otherwise peaceful and serene beach.

I cruised along further. About ten minutes later, I was pulling into El Segundo. I decided to take a pit stop to drink some water, pee, and then turn around and head back to Santa Monica. The restrooms were frighteningly clean. Most public bathrooms along the coastline here in Southern California are terrifying; I usually feel like germs are climbing up my pee stream. It was a nice respite.

After a quick stretch, I headed back towards Santa Monica. I suddenly realized why the trip south felt so easy; the wind was now blowing in my face. Nice. This will make an excellent workout.

I switched to Louder Than Bombs and pedaled faster. It wasn't until I headed east, traveling around the Marina again, that I got a quick break from the wind. As I looped around the bay, I grew tired of the Smiths; I needed something loud and fast to propel me towards my final destination. A quick browsing landed me on Strike Anywhere's Exit English. The opening track, "Amplify," pumped me up. It segued perfectly into "Blaze," and I soon realized that I was belting the words at the top of my lungs:

We! Rise like lions after slumber
in unvanquishable number
Shake these chains to earth like dew
You are many, they are few!

Without a voice to question the hollow aggression
of public perception through all this time we rise
The human solution!

We're amplified, adrenaline
another flag's shadows covers us again
and on these steps, take back our days
and when we go go out in a blaze
We'll go, go out in a blaze
Human pollution!

Nothing like a near-flawless melodic hardcore album to get me through a bike ride. And that's all this was; I wasn't thinking of anything else but the music and the road.

I arrived at the Santa Monica pier about 25 minutes later. It was the first time on the whole trip that I was sweating. The older man behind the counter of the bike rental shop laughed. "Racing to get here before 5?" he asked me. His wispy white hair fluttered onto his face as he spoke.

I got off my bike and smiled. My legs were tight from exertion and I was breathing through my mouth. In, out. In, out. Yeah, I told him. I didn't want to be late.

He smiled at me and pointed behind him. "It's only 4:05pm."

What the hell? I gasped. You have to be kidding me.

"No, buddy. Look." He gestured again to his clock. He was right. Meaning that I just completed the 90 minute trip in just over 60 minutes.

I smiled. It was a good workout. I paid the $12 for the bike and began my walk back towards where I was going to catch the bus. I was refreshed. I sucked in the salty sea air, but I coughed. Too much traffic passing by. I knew I was returning back to city life.

I ate a small lunch/dinner at a Chinese grill near the Third Street Promenade. Spicy Eggplant and Tofu, grilled vegetables, and brown rice. For only $6, it was fucking fantastic.

I walked through the promenade towards Wilshire Blvd. Everyone seemed busy either shopping or watching the many street performers on the sidewalks. I stopped to watch two men play flamenco guitar (which I have an obsession with); I was trying my best to absorb the music. However, I heard the amplified sounds of a religious nut rapidly approaching.

I looked to my left and saw a man waving a Bible around in his left hand; in his right hand was a megaphone, seemingly set on the highest setting. He wore a dirty UCLA hoodie and his black hair was cut Army style.

"GOD LOVES YOU AND HE WANTS ALL YOU HOMOSEXUALS TO REPENT! REPENT NOW AND SHED YOUR SINS!"

Fucking Christ. What are the odds? I honestly entertained the notion that God was real and he was actually speaking to me. But then I discarded that thought as soon as the guy turned his megaphone to my face.

"ARE YOU REPENTING YOUR SINS?"

No. I turned back to the guitars.

"HOW ABOUT NOW?"

I laughed at the absurdity. No. Not now. Not later.

"GOD WILL JUDGE YOU WHEN YOU DIE."

I ignored him.

"DON'T IGNORE GOD'S WILL."

I turned to him. Stop yelling in my ear. That doesn't make me want to believe in God anymore than I already do.

"YOU CAN'T RESIST GOD'S WILL."

I unzipped my hoodie and showed him my Bad Religion Crossbuster tee:



He gaped at me in horror and I took this opportunity to count myself out of the oncoming trainwreck of a discussion.

I walked a couple blocks to Wilshire and waited for the 720. I wished for more time to ride the bike. I wanted to go further. I wanted to be alone longer. I stood amongst 20 strangers. (I counted.) There were hundreds more, walking or driving by. I felt alone in a crowd.

I set my iPod to shuffle, to see what random fate would hand me.

It punched me in the face. Ben Fold's "The Luckiest." The song I rearranged for guitar and sang to my ex-boyfriend for Christmas. A sudden wave of depression set on me. My head was weighted down and my gaze fell on my iPod screen. You son of a bitch.

I didn't change the song. I faced it. I missed him. I missed feeling the ocean air on my face and not caring about petty shit like this. I missed knowing what it felt like to not be alone.

The 720 pulls up right in front of me. The door opens and a middle-aged Hispanic man steps to the edge. Overweight. Pot belly. Receding hair line. He stops and stares at me and smiles. Slightly creeped out, I watch as he unzips his tattered Dickies hoodie.

His black shirt has one phrase on the front:

EVERYTHING THAT HAS A BEGINNING MUST HAVE AN ENDING.

Bumps raise on my arms; in a second, he has stepped off and people are pushing past me to get on the bus. I snap to and climb aboard. Everything that has a beginning must have an ending.

My iPod changes to Bathory. Nothing special. The moment had began and was now over. The bike ride started at 2pm and was now over. My relationship began last year. It was over.

I'm ok, I tell myself. I'm ok.

Flowcharts rule so much.



Found via BoingBoing.

POST FLOWCHARTS. GO GO GO GO GO GO GO!

I'm not going to make this some propaganda-spreading, "GO VEGAN!" post because that can get annoying quickly. I'll just say that I would be angered to find out my fake fur coat had dog in it.

Dog. Who makes coats with dog fur? Jesus, that's disturbing.



POST PICTURES OF CUTE DOGS! GO GO GO GO GO GO GO!

Photos snapped by Rony of Ronysphotobooth.

We had a Buzznet/Cartel Afterparty the other day. Good times were had. I'm sure video will surface soon that shows how nerdy I am: I was drinking Naked Juice and talking to my mom on the phone. At a party with free alcohol.

I'm a winner.


That's Kron, myself, and breesays.


Jaime, myself, my last roommate Sue, and Felicia. Sue and I will kill you.


Todd (Headphonic), Allan (poxline) and Parker. Hot.

Finally, a story I can laugh at today.

The basic plot: Man hears what sounds like a woman being raped. He grabs his cavalry sword, goes up to the suspected apartment, breaks down the door in a heroic fury, threatens the tenant, and then discovers the guy was just watching porn.

Also, the "hero" is 39 and he lives with his mom. So awesome. That's not saying I have anything against people living with their parents; however, I could just imagine what went through his head as heard those "cries for help"........

James paused and turned back to the door. The sounds of Hansi Kurch's epic vocals floated through the air; the room was full of Blind Guardian, but James could still hear it.

He reached to his right and paused the stereo on the counter; a bead of sweat from his forehead trickled down his temple. He had executed three air guitar slings in a row after jumping off of the living room couch. His mother was thankfully napping in the back room, so he had conquered the front half of the apartment with his fantastical air guitar displays.

He heard it again; high-pitched. Urgent. "Ohhhhhh........help me!" Her voice, desperate for help, innocent in its fear. James perked his ears upwards. Could his hearing be deceiving him? Could this be his clarion call for action?

He shrugged it off. James had been a long time resident of Oconowomac, a small Milwaukee suburb, and he knew that his life was plagued by daydreams. Nothing exciting ever happened here. He had lost his manager position at the local GameStop after losing a wager over the sales results of the Wii versus the new X Box. His mother, who was kind but viewed her son as nothing but a "useless nerd," offered the front bedroom to her son. James found the situation desireable; he had nearly conquered Castlevania: Lament of Innocence 3 times in the same day. (He absolutely had to beat Greg at this record or his reputation would be absolutely tarnished.)

But nothing truly happened in Oconowomac. He worked when he could. He battled demons on a television. He lived with his mother.

So when he heard the screams from upstairs, something clicked. Is this it? he thought. Could I possibly become a real hero?

He nearly threw out the idea when he heard it again.

"Ahhhhhhh! Help me! Stop! Stop it!"

His heart raced. The blood pulsed in his throat. For a few moments, he couldn't move, frozen in anticipation. He waited, his joints locked.

"Stop! Stop it!"

He knew this was it. This was his chance.

There was no hesitation in James' movements. He bounded into the living room and stood underneath the cavalry sword he had purchased for $20 at the swap meet located in the Main St. Church's parking lot. He gracefully removed the battle weapon from the stand attached to the wall. He kept it unsheathed, waiting for a moment like this.

The metal reflected his own face on the blade; he could see his eyes, wildly dancing, ready to attack. He held the sword up high, as an offering. I do this for you, m'lady. I serve you.

He was ready. He stormed out the front door, letting it slam behind him. The stairs to the apartments above were to his right and he found himself skipping a step, sometimes two, to get to the top.

His fist found the wooden door and he began to pound away. "OPEN UP!" he screamed. "LEAVE HER ALONE!"

He paused for a moment and, hearing no reply, he backed up. His foot was in the air and, with one passionate kick, the door was open.  The sword was in front of him and he found words in mouth he'd been living to speak.

"WHERE IS SHE? I WILL AVENGE HER! YOU WILL NOT TAKE ADVANTAGE OF HER!"

He realized his eyes were closed in terror and, when he opened them, an overweight and slightly balding man stood before him. He was wearing a grimey A shirt and boxers that probably used to be white. The man's eyes were wide open in horror and, as he tried to form words, he only managed to stutter over and over again.

"Ahhhhh.....oooohhhh....stop it! Stop it! Do it again!"

There was her voice. His eyes fell upon a television set in the middle of the living room. A blonde busty babe was staring straight out at him. She was speaking to him. Right to him.

"Again, again! Stop, oh my god, again big daddy!"

Oh.
Fuck.






















I am fucking crazy, by the way.

Really, I'm out of words at this point. Suffice to say, this is wholly depressing. Do I need to remind the NYU Republicans that they're talking about human beings?

Why don't we play, "Find the Ignorant Douchebag"? I bet I'd win.

I missed it, though. Someone didn't forward it to me.

As I browsed my RSS feeds for the morning, I was alarmed at the sheer number of anti-gay news; so, instead of pounding out individual stories in which I'd be repeating myself over and over again, here's on giant link post of homo hate and fury.

Be forewarned. I'm fucking pissed today.

Our first bit of homophobic ignorance comes from the lovely state of Utah. Sarcasm is intended, folks. Republican senators Chris Buttars and Aaron Tilton have successfully managed to lobby for an anti-gay club bill that would outlaw all Gay-Straight Alliances on public school campuses statewide. It has passed and is now awaiting the signature of the governor to become law.

Their reasoning? Gay clubs are "tearing down the moral pillars of society."

................................................

Chris Buttars has also publicly said the following:

During the radio interview host Tom Grover noted that courts historically have been used by minority groups "to ensure [their] rights are protected."

"I don't know of an example where the minority is being jeopardized by legislative action," Buttars replied. Grover then brought up the Kansas desegregation case that resulted in the busing of black students to white schools and vice versa.

"I think Brown v. Board of Education is wrong to begin with," Buttars shot back.

When Grover attempted to press him on the reply Buttars refused to be more specific, saying only "one day call me again and we'll take a half hour on that one."

WHAT. THE. FUCK. WHY SHOULD BLACK PEOPLE GO TO A DIFFERENT SCHOOL?

Moving on. I could spend hours on this one alone.

Coming from the lovely and talented Shakespeare's Sister are two stories also demonstrating a mind-numbing hatred of homosexuality.

#1:  Nigerian Presidential Advisor Professor Friday Okonofua said: "Same-sex relationships make you retarded."

I was already once schooled by DJMark about my use and proliferation of the word "retarded" and I shall extend the favor to Friday Okonofua:

STOP. IT. THAT DOESN'T EVEN MAKE SENSE.

I almost feel as if I should roll up a magazine and swat him on the head. NO. BAD PRESIDENTIAL ADVISOR. DO NOT SAY "RETARDED." GAY SEX DOES NOT MAKE A PERSON OR PERSONS RETARDED. NO. NOOOOOOO.

#2: The principal of a Fort Wayne, Indiana high school is up in arms over the inappropriate content that was exposed to students at his school.

Here's what the kid wrote:

"I can only imagine how hard it would be to come out as homosexual in today's society. I think it is so wrong to look down on those people, or to make fun of them, just because they have a different sexuality than you. There is nothing wrong with them or their brain; they're just different than you." and "According to pflagupstatesc.org, every day 13 Americans from the ages of 15-24 commit suicide, and homosexual youths make up 30% of the completed suicides. I don't understand why we would put so much pressure on those people, that they would feel that they have to end their lives because of their sexuality. Would it be so hard to just accept them as human beings who have feelings just like everyone else? Being homosexual doesn't make a person inhuman, it makes them just a little bit different than the rest of the world."

Goddamn. Hide your children.

And, finally, our last bit of frustrating rhetoric comes from conservative talk show host and movie critic Michael Medved, who insists that Tim Hardaway is totally in-line for saying he doesn't want gay people in the locker room.

I have one thing to say to you, Medved:


YOU UGLY ASS SON OF A BITCH. DON'T FLATTER YOURSELF. I WOULDN'T WANT TO FUCK YOU IF YOU WERE THE LAST SOUL ON EARTH.

Sigh. I hate today.

The initial premise is mind-boggling; so I'm sure you can imagine how confused I am at both the existence of Conservapedia and their entry on "The Nazi Party."

Let's first start off with the "mission statement" of Conservapedia:

Conservapedia has over 3,400 educational, clean and concise entries on historical, scientific, legal, and economic topics, as well as more than 350 lectures and term lists. There have been over 155,000 page views and over 14,000 page edits. Already Conservapedia has become one of the largest user-controlled free encyclopedias on the internet.

Conservapedia is a much-needed alternative to Wikipedia, which is increasingly anti-Christian and anti-American. On Wikipedia, many of the dates are provided in the anti-Christian "C.E." instead of "A.D.", which Conservapedia uses. Christianity receives no credit for the great advances and discoveries it inspired, such as those of the Renaissance. Read a list of many Examples of Bias in Wikipedia.

Conservapedia is an online resource and meeting place where we favor Christianity and America. Conservapedia has easy-to-use indexes to facilitate review of topics. You will much prefer using Conservapedia compared to Wikipedia if you want concise answers free of "political correctness".

SERIOULSY. YOU CAN'T BE AN ENCYCLOPEDIA IF YOU FAVOR CERTAIN BELIEF SYSTEMS. THAT MAKES YOU BIASED.

Moving on. The Disgruntled Chemist is one of my daily reads and today, he posted an infuriating blog about the bias found in their articles on The Nazi Party:

Nazis is an acronym for the National Socialist German Workers’ party . The group was formed when Adolf Hitler came into power by promising that there would be more jobs, Germany would be a better place and poverty would end. His power was increased when his followers used intimidation and violence to win a majority in the German Parliament. Once in power the Nazis became anti-Semitic (hating Jews) blaming the Jews for the trouble in Germany. They made laws against Jews and they required Jews to wear a Star of David on their clothing. The Jews were mistreated, persecuted and killed by the Nazis.

All Nazis are atheists.

WHYAMISURPRISEDORUPSETABOUTTHIS? I should start to expect such patent ignorance from people who claim that I am destroying America and it's values. (I'm a triplicate threat: Mexican, gay, AND an atheist. Keep your kids out of my liberal grasp!) But I can't help but be enraged by this kind of attack on my (lack of) belief.

If you want to see The Disgruntled Chemist deconstruct the Nazi entry in just a few sentences, check it out here.

Fuck Conservapedia.

I'd ask you to excuse my language, but y'all know that I don't care.

I have read this story about 6 times. It makes less sense each time around.

David Geffen is stoked on Barack Obama. He normally supports the Clintons, but he has recently jumped on the Obama Bandwagon. In the process, he said:

"[while]...everybody in politics lies, [the former president and his wife] do it with such ease, it's troubling."

Not a bad assertion and not a false one, either.

Of course, it's natural for Hillary to flip her lid. She most likely feels betrayed and, since Geffen has now thrown his support behind Obama, she probably feels a bit threatened. (Obama is her competition, after all.) So what does she do?

She fucking asks Barack Obama to denounce the comments and give back the money he was given.

I laughed when I first read that. I'm laughing now, but my tone is slightly more nervous. She can't actually be serious, right? What the hell has Obama done wrong?

He doesn't seem to know either:

"It's not clear to me why I'd be apologizing for someone else's remark."

Dude, no worries. It's not clear to anyone else either.

WARNING: SPOILERS BELOW. CEASE READING IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE EPISODE.



All right, Losties, a new episode, a new recap.

"Stranger in a Strange Land" mainly set out to reveal a few more secrets about Jack, The Others, and, in the process, open up a billion more questions.

The episode was...ok. I've enjoyed the first two episodes since it returned to air more than this one. Jack's flashbacks were pretty boring and Achara was a terrible character. And what the fuck: It's a tattoo. She didn't have to do it.

However, the meaning of his tattoo ("He walks amongst us, but he is not one of us") further seems to suggest the idea of destiny; it appears there are now multiple characters who would have inevitably ended up on the island anyway. As Isabelle pointed out, Jack's tattoo is quite ironic.

But I have a million more questions. Why is the stewardess on the island? Why did the little girl ask about Ana Lucia? How is it that Alex can seemingly run about The Other's island?

Ah. Next week's episode, "Tricia Tanaka is Dead," is Hurley-centric. About time!

Two Florida teenagers who took sexual photographs of each other have now been convicted of producing, directing, promoting, and possessing child pornography.

At first, seems pretty open-shut, no?

Not really. The two teeangers, who are boyfriend and girlfriend, took private photos of each other engaged in various sexual acts. They emailed the photos from the girl's computer to the boy's computer. In the process, these photos were found. When the police learned of their existence, the two were arrested and since convicted of the charges brought against them.

Under Florida law, there's nothing illegal about the relations between the two parties. It was when the photo was snapped that the two committed a crime.

But was it really a crime? There appeared to be no intention of ever sharing the photos with anyone else. Is it child pornography if it's taken by children?

An excerpt from the court's opinion:

As previously stated, the reasonable expectation that the material will ultimately be disseminated is by itself a compelling state interest for preventing the production of this material. In addition, the statute was intended to protect minors like appellant and her co-defendant from their own lack of judgment...

Appellant was simply too young to make an intelligent decision about engaging in sexual conduct and memorializing it. Mere production of these videos or pictures may also result in psychological trauma to the teenagers involved.

Further, if these pictures are ultimately released, future damage may be done to these minors' careers or personal lives. These children are not mature enough to make rational decisions concerning all the possible negative implications of producing these videos.

I won't disagree that this was incredibly stupid of these kids to do this. But isn't it a bit much to suggest these kids, who willingly took the photos, will suffer from psycological trauma just for taking them alone? I'd say they're suffering more trauma from this type of exposure than from when they initially snapped the pics.

But it's hard for me to form a solid opinion on the matter because the case is so bizarre. The court laments the appearance of minors in the photographs, but then charges the kids as adults. What? What kind of precedent does that set?

I realize the sensitive nature of this case, which is why it's so hard for me to decide how I feel about this. Child pornography is a terrible and exploitive thing; but is it that bad when the teens are doing it themselves?

Amongst those convicted of severe misdemeanors and felonies!

Let me temporarily put aside my great distaste for the military and try to discuss this issue. We know that Bush has ordered a troop surge, despite all the urges not to do so. Accepting this, we've had to pull from the reserves in order to meet this surge; even then, it appears that the military is getting desperate to fill their ranks.

So desperate, in fact, that they're handing out thousands upon thousands of "moral waivers" to troops so that they're allowed to serve.

I didn't actually know there was something called a "moral waiver," so, at the very least, I've learned a new factoid to store in my brain from this story. As you may know, those convicted of  "serious misdemeanors" and felonies are not allowed to serve in our military. I think it's obvious why.

Well, atleast I thought it was pretty obvious. As reported by The New York Times (via Crooks and Liars), there is no monitoring system in place to check on those granted moral waivers to see how they are adjusting to military life.

I'm certainly not going to suggest that those convicted of these crimes are unable to turn their life around. The military works wonders for many people. But allowing people convicted of armed robbery, vehicular homocide, or sexual assault to serve alongside other Americans? Don't you think we should be just a tad bit more careful?

Teachers.

Take a breath and try not to commit violent acts on your keyboard or computer screen as you read through this stunning intellectual exchange. Just keep in mind that yes, this is indeed real.

SEAN HANNITY: Alright, let me ask you. Because, you — when you said about the Department of Education — you want to abolish it — when you said that the teachers unions is more dangerous to this country in the long term –

NEAL BOORTZ: In the long term, yeah.

HANNITY: Than al Qaeda.

BOORTZ: Right. Look, Al Qaeda, they could bring in a nuke into this country and kill 100,000 people with a well-placed nuke somewhere. Ok. We would recover from that. It would be a terrible tragedy, but the teachers unions in this country can destroy a generation.

HANNITY: They are.

BOORTZ: Well, they are destroying a generation.

HANNITY: They are ruining our school system.

BOORTZ: They’re much more dangerous. We worry about al Qaeda and we should. But at the same time let’s not let the teachers union skate.

HANNITY: They destroyed our school system, and we don’t do anything. The parents — why there aren’t people rising up against it is unbelievable.

Well, there's simply too much I want to say right off the bat. Of course, I don't put any faith in anything these too morons ever happen to say. That's not the issue; it's that millions of other people think Sean Hannity is a logical godsend and will believe every word that falls out of his mouth.

I'm initially upset (but not surprised) at the lack of any evidence to support such absurd statements. Hannity and Boortz seem to think that they are their own sources and anything said by them is automatic fact. However, most of us who live in reality know this isn't the case.

I could rant on about how important it is for people to receive an education, blah blah blah, knowledge is power, blah blah blah, know your history, blah blah blah. But you know this. I figure that most people with any sense of normalcy know that, despite all the bureaucratic bullshit in our school systems, there really is a value in learning.

But I want to know what exactly teachers are "destroying" in this generation. Surely such a blanket statement has some basis in something, no?

Ah, fuck it. Let's just stick with ambiguous statements, stereotypes, and sensationalist reporting. Journalism at it's best!

Despite that our administration has ignored the desires of our own generals and its own citizens, it seems that the Brits will be the first of the major powers to withdraw troops from Iraq.

It may be a political move by Blair to gain popularity back, since it has sunk from his involvement in the Iraq war. Regardless, it's a bold move by the country. Denmark and Lithuania have followed suit and will be withdrawing ALL of their troops by August. (For the record, Lithuania has exactly 53 soldiers in Iraq. I think that's adorable.)

As we all know, this is in direct contrast to what this country is doing: We're pouring more troops into the country. I'm interested to see what the White House's reaction will be. I'd be willing to bet that the PR machine starts rolling and you'll see the Brit-hate pretty soon.

I tried to think of a witty parallel to how we changed French fries to freedom fries, (relative to Britain, though), but I'm all out.

Ideas? Cup of freedom?

That title is a mouthful. And true, unfortunately.

A Romanian priest has been sentenced to 14 years in prison today after a nun died during an exorcism ritual.

Sister Maricica Irina Cornici, 23, who was being treated for schizophrenia, said she believed the devil was talking to her.

Daniel Petru Corogeanu, a monk who served as the priest for a secluded Holy Trinity convent in northeast Romania, and four other nuns, chained Cornici to a cross in an attempt at exorcism.

She survived several days without food or water, but died of dehydration, exhaustion and suffocation.

The court in the northeast city of Vaslui convicted Corogeanu and the four nuns of holding Cornici captive, resulting in her death.

One of the nuns, Nicoleta Arcalianu, was sentenced to eight years in prison, and the other three – Adina Cepraga, Elena Otel and Simona Bardanas – received five-year sentences.

Dozens of the priest’s supporters packed the courtroom and prayed for him. Several burst into tears when the verdict was announced.

The defendants’ lawyers plan to appeal, saying the prison sentences are too harsh.

You know what the real tragedy is? Satan is still on the loose.

Seriously.

Lee and Teresa Sipple spent $1,200 mounting three video cameras and a radar speed unit outside their home, which is at the bottom of a hill. They have said they did so in hopes of convincing neighbors to slow down to create a safe environment for their son.

The Sipples allegedly caught Kennesaw police officer Richard Perrone speeding up to 17 mph over the speed limit. Perrone alerted Bartow authorities, who in turn visited the Sipples' home to tell them Perrone intended to press charges against them for stalking.

What a load of crap. Good thing the officer has dropped the complaint.

Especially since they'll ban an amputee because he might send the wrong message.

David Thomas won a Purple Heart. He was initially supposed to appear at a ceremony with President Bush. He won't be any longer because he was going to wear shorts.

;sdfkl
sdflkdsfj;kl
@#&*%_@#_*(#@*(&#_$#_*!!!!!_!!(*!!!!!!!!!!!

I have nothing more to say.

You know someone will. And it will be undeniable proof that that person is a complete asshole without any regard for human empathy.

Read this story about an Iraqi woman who is showing her face and giving her name in order to find justice for being raped by numerous American-trained Iraqi security forces. Read it and let it sink in. Realize the insane risk she's putting on her life for what she's doing.

It's terrifying.

I feel like Chicken Little. I tell my friends, both here on the web and those I come into contact with each day, that sky is falling. But I tend to be met with disbelief and laughter.

So when I read this morning that a federal appeals court rejected the right of Guantanamo Bay detainees to appeal their imprisonment, I came to a frightening revelation:

The sky isn't just falling down; our fucking government is pulling it towards us faster and faster.

I don't want to speculate any slippery slope hypotheses. I don't think I need to. But holy hell, we are so fucked.

So much for democracy and human rights.

We ate at this cute Bar and Grill right before the show. I had a delicious veggie sandwich and a giant hummus plate. This, however, turned out to be a terrible idea. About 5 minutes after getting into the venue, I had to pee. Terrible, terrible, terrible idea.

I managed to score a sweet spot dead center and one person from the barricade. I was next to Talia and my friend Danielle and we had the obligatory zombie apocalypse discussion.

The Dear and Departed were on first an hour later. I am not a fan of this band. I was bored throughout their set and it certainly didn't help that Sick of It All were on next. I wished I had brought my book in to read.

Less than an hour later, amidst bomb sirens and flashing red lights, the almight Sick of It All took the stage. I've seen them many times over the years and I'll be damned if this wasn't one of the best performances I've ever seen them put on. It was odd to see SOIA open for AFI, considering the last time I'd seen the two bands together, AFI opened for Sick of It All. (Note: That tour was one of the best tours ever. Sick of It All, AFI, Hot Water Music, and Indecision. A+).

They ripped through a set of older material and a few old classics. But no "Relentless." BUMMED! Nevertheless, I was impressed and completely pumped for AFI to come on.

About 30 minutes or so after Sick of it All left us, the crowd began to chant, "Through our bleeding, we are one!" Impressive as well, as it's always nice to hear the crowd shout this familiar refrain. After another chant of, "A-F-I!," the lights dimmed, the crowd screamed, and the high end beeps of "Prelude 12/21" rang out over the sound system.

Davey came out, dressed in a dark jacket and a lavender top. This is what you brought me, he sang to us. This you can keep. And, as the band assembled on stage, as the fans shrieked the lyrics back at the band, we began to form a memory that we'd keep forever.

The setlist:


Courtesy of my friend Salena.

The last time I saw AFI at the Rialto was nearly 4 years ago; I distinctly remember how personable the show seemed. This time around, it felt exactly the same. The band was so close and the venue really was fairly small for a band of AFI's size. Lots of finger points and hello's from the band.

However, the true highlight of the show came during "Wester." My friends and I feared no one would sing the backup vocals during the breakdown. (It's easily the best part of the song.)

The breakdown is coming when I see a pair of legs jump over my head. A millisecond later, my friend Andrew has lept on stage, Davey has embraced him, and he's singing the backups himself. He then dives into the crowd, having executed the most perfect headwalk/stage dive combo I've ever seen.

That's my boy.

The show was exhilarating, further proving that AFI can still rip out a vicious and energetic set after 15 years of playing shows.

We hung around and got to talk to Adam, who praised Andrew's magnificent stage antics. He also clued us in on some songs they'll be playing in March that they haven't done in nearly 4 years. So. STOKED!!

We drove back to Chandler to Dan's house and all of us, exhausted from the long day and the show. We crashed fairly quickly as well. People started to wake up just after 8am and, knowing that we had a long ride back, we got out of Chandler just after 9.

We got stuck in some pretty miserable traffic on the 10 West because of an accident. I hate traffic. But we pulled out of Phoenix and began the monotonous drive through the desert. The mountains and cacti repeated themselves in stubborn patterns. We listened to a lot of Lewis Black, Daniel Tosh, and Mitch Hedburg, because comedy passes the time quicker. Talia slept while Desiree slept unnaturally.

We made another pitstop in Quartzsite on the way back. More stores were open because it wasn't after 5pm, but Quartzsite in the daytime isn't much more happening than in the evening.

As you can see, it's not terribly exciting. But that's not to suggest it wasn't interesting; we perused the various stores selling knic-knacs, rocks, geodes, and old farm equipment. There was a marked desperation to the owners of the stores at times; deals here, bargains here. Sometimes the store operators would just stare at us and never say a word.

Then, of course, some people made us feel like we were in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. I didn't get any pictures of them, but a group of natives followed us around, gave us dirty looks, and generally eye-raped us most of the time there.

We couldn't find anything to eat for all of the hippie vegans, so we got back on the road and ended up chowing down on a super cheap buffet lunch at Sizzler. I hadn't been there since I was about 12 years old and the place seems smaller than I remember.

A local church had gotten out just a few minutes earlier, so we were (literally) surrounded by a gaggle of Christian senior citizens. Not too fun, but we were thankfully left alone.

The rest of the ride back was quiet and uneventful. Part of me was excited to be able to sleep more than 4 hours, but I was already longing to be on the road again. But it's comforting to think that in just 10 days, I'll be doing this all over again.

Tune in soon!

Because you might die in your recliner and up being found mummified in front of your television.

Seriously. The dude was dead for OVER A YEAR before anyone found him.

Sigh.

If the evidence is true, these fuckers deserve to be put away forever.

Just as the the folks over at Crooks and Liars pointed out, this story is being ignored, even if it is a few days old. This most certainly should not be ignored:

An Italian judge has ordered that 31 people stand trial over the kidnapping of an Islamic cleric as part of the US policy of extraordinary rendition.

Virtually all of the 26 American suspects are thought to be present or former CIA agents, while the other five defendants are Italian nationals.

Prosecutors allege that Osama Mustafa Hassan Nasr was abducted in Milan on February 17th 2003 and flown to Germany and then his native Egypt to be questioned over suspected terrorist involvement.

Critics say Mr Nasr, only recently released, was taken to Africa in order to be tortured.

The previously secret US practice of extraordinary rendition, employed at the height of the war on terror, saw terror suspects taken to countries with more relaxed laws on interrogation and torture.

Italian prime minister Romano Prodi has not yet decided whether to ask for the 26 American defendants to be extradited - a request almost certainly to be turned down - but under Italian law the trial can go ahead regardless. 

This is what our CIA is doing? I'm sick of our government being able to do as they please without having to face any of the negative repercussions. Aren't we supposed to be supporting democracy in the world? So we instead support regimes that illegally torture prisoners by sending our own prisoners there?

Pay attention. The wool can't be pulled over our eyes.

I'd like to see him get out of this one.

By this time, you should all know that John McCain, who used to be a sharp straight-shooter, is now trying to appease every right-wing douchebag in the country. But he likes to portray himself as a moderate centrist of some sorts. (That is laughable, at best.)

So get out of this one, McCain. You are now undeniably against a woman's right to choose and this will pigeonhole you quickly. How are you possibly going to appeal to those who don't agree with you?

My initial response to anything as absurd as this is generally to mock it and belittle all those involved. But I'll be damned if I can't wrap my mind around this story: Is he telling the truth? Should IBM have been more sensitive to his disorder? Can you actually sue for this?

Ok. So. James Pacenza is fired from IBM for visiting an adult chat room while at work, after having been warned before for a past incident. He is fighting the dismissal because he says that visiting sex sites is his self-medicated therapy used to neutralize effects of post-traumatic stress disorder from the Vietnam War.

I can't help but feel this is sensationalized just a tad bit. I mean, come on. He denies he was even looking at sex sites at work; if this is so, why not just use that for  your case? Why even bring attention to your sexual disorder? To me, that seems like someone is trying a bit too hard to bring attention to themselves.

However, this makes me wonder if sexual behavior disorders should be recognized. If his disorder is truly real, shouldn't the company be a bit more sympathetic to this?

Moral ambiguity sucks.

If I could dance, I'd probably throw it down right here in front of my computer.

It's a step in the right direction. Sure, it sucks that I'm still considered to be part of a separate "class" simply because I like dudes, but this is still significant.

Only 47 states to go!

If you are reading this, sorry it's so wordy. It is a work in progress because my card reader won't work here. It will have lots of photos I've taken. :) So it will be complete late this weekend, possibly tomorrow.

I'm sitting in a library off of Congress St. in Tucson. Apparently, Tucsonians don't know what internet cafes are. Everyone I ask about them seems to think I'm speaking a foreign language.

So, in case you haven't heard, I'm going to be doing a nine-date roadtrip to go see AFI. Today is the first of this massive trip. (I haven't done something like this since April of 2003.) I came up with the idea, proposed it to the Buzzgods, and here I sit, hundreds of miles from home, blogging about the road. Here are the shows I'll be going to and taking pictures at:

February 17: Tucson, AZ

March 1: Davis, CA

March 3: San Bernardino, CA

March 4: Bakersfield, CA

March 6: Chico, CA

March 7: Medford, OR

March 9: Eureka, CA

March 11: Las Vegas, NV

The man behind me smells really bad. And there's a motorized wheelcheer on the other side of me with a bumper stick on the back that says, "God loves everyone!"

I've been listening to AFI since the mid-90s. It was casual at first and, not until Shut Your Mouth and Open Your Eyes came out did it explode into a full-blown obsession. I lost count of how many times I've seen AFI sometime last year, but it's into the 40s. Small venues. Arenas. Signings. Overnight sleepovers. From this, I've come to respect the four individuals who makes such passionate music and I've made some of the most spectacular friends I could ever ask for.

Talia and I ran to make our Palmdale Metrolink train just after 9am yesterday, to meet up with our friends Dan and Desiree up in their hometown. Our plan was to cut through the Antelope Valley, head south on the 215, and then bolt down the 10 into Arizona. We wanted to pick up our tickets the day before so that there was no rush to get them at the box office the next day. (This has since turned out well into our favor.

We made our train just a few minutes before it slowly trudged out of Union Station. I was excited. My heart pounded in my throat; there's no feeling like being out on the open road, with friends, with a final destination of music in our minds. It's why I love playing with Future Primitive, why I love touring, and why I'll drive 500+ miles to see a band I could see quite often here in Southern California.

But, as I've learned, these expeditions are always more about the trip itself. Talia and I discussed literature and our conversation turned to a religious discussion. The 100 minute train ride passed before we knew it and we found ourselves in the flat mountainous desert of the Antelope Valley.

A cloudless sky beat down on us. We gathered our bags packed for the weekend and headed inside the small Palmdale station. Desiree was running late, so I bought some apple juice, a water, and sat listening to the new Broadway Calls album while Talia smoked a cigarette or two outside. (Note: Broadway Calls are gonna be fucking huge. Get on it.)

When Desiree and Dan arrived, we packed our shit into their already full car as best we could. They came prepared with lots of fruit, vegan cookies from Trader Joe's for Talia and me, and plenty to drink on the ride. We made two quick stops before committing to the road to pick up an ice chest and some ice.

Our soundtrack was Propagandhi's Today's Empires, Tomorrow's Ashes. Then the Broadway Calls album. The barren desert and brown hills would roll by, but everything was such a blur; most of the landscape along the 10 freeway is so similar that you can be lost in conversation for over an hour, look outside, and it doesn't feel as if you've moved an inch.

On Talia's insistence, our first real stop was just after we crossed into Arizona in a small retail town called Quartzsite. I call it a retail town because it appeared to be supported only by the non-corporate set of shops, mom-and-pop stores, and food stands that stood just a few hundred feet off the freeway. Even then, these weren't traditional retail stores; no name brands could be found. Talia wanted a bitchin' knife (which she found), but I set out to find local knic-knacs and a ridiculously silly Quartzsite pride shirt.

I failed at that, but Dan and I did manage to score a sweet set of airsoft guns and over 2000 BBs for less than $30. I predict that by the end of tonight, it will probably be our undoing.

The citizens of Quartzsite (which couldn't number over a few hundred) stared at us tattooed heathens, but were kind and polite to us. I stood outside one of the tents and gazed out at the endless desert; to these people, it must be like living near the ocean. The world seems to go on forever here.

We stopped not too long afterwards at a rest stop so I could pee and brush my teeth. Even in the goddamn desert, I have OCD about my dental hygiene. If I got stranded on a desert island, I'd probably only want a toothbrush, toothpaste, and music. Enough for me.

The venue we had to pick up our tickets at was just outside of Phoenix. The Marquee Theatre was in Tempe and, for some strange reason, this is where will call for The Rialto Theatre in Tucson was.

[I have to stop. The electric wheelchair belongs to this sweet lady wearing a mainly black windbreaker with neon blue and pink stripes. She was walking around the library, but, for some unknown reason, decided to leave her wheelchair in this room. She just came up the stairs, sat in the wheelchair, smiled at me, and wheeled off. I don't know why I'm sharing this with you.]

Authority Zero was playing The Marquee that night. (Ew.) There was a fuckton of kids, so we were told to come back later when the line had died down.

That meant it was food time. Talia and I are vegan, Desiree is vegetarian, and Dan is himself. We set forth on the complicated task of finding a place to eat in Tempe/Scottsdale that was vegan-friendly. As you can imagine, this was not easy. After passing eight or nine trillion Circle K's, we pulled over to one off of 44th and Washington to ask directions to a grocery store. We were told there was a "Food City" just up the street. (I shit you not. The name of the grocery store was Food City.)

We found it. It was not a city of food, much to our dismay; rather, it reeked of some impenetrable stench of fish and spoiled vegetables. We found one package of vegan Boca burgers, but decided to give up. This wasn't looking good.

After calling a friend whose uncle's house we were staying at, we were directed to a Frye's grocery. We stocked up on hummus, Multi-Grain Wheat Thins, salads, Thai food, and vegan burgers. Good shit.

After driving through downtown Tempe, which was a combination of bro douchebaggery and one hippie joint, we managed to arrive in Chandler, the city that our friend Ed's uncle lived in.

Ed's uncle Dan is...........hmm. Wow. It's hard to describe, in words, the true nature of Dan. Funny is an understatement. Offensive is an understatement. Quick wit? Completely insane? All true. I've been exposed to jokes that make my cold heart cringe. (Trust me, it takes a lot to make me flinch.)

We all ate after meeting up with our friends Ed, Andrew, Jess, Jess' cousin, and John. We spent the rest of the night talking and making fun of one another. For some reason, I feel asleep watching Armageddon. God, what a shitty movie.

We didn't do much this morning but get up and head out of the house early. We had lunch here in Tucson at this rad bagel shop. My friends are hanging out along Congress Street. In fact, Talia just popped in to tell me she's done studying and is heading back to the venue. I only have 7 minutes left on this computer, so I suppose I should wrap it up to. Plus, there's some asshole listening to shitty metal behind me and I keep turning around and giving him the evil eye. I'm bound to throw him down some stairs if he doesn't shut the fuck up soon.

The show starts at 7:30 and soon I'll get to see the almighty Sick of It All before AFI takes the stage. Tonight's gonna be a good night.

I'll update y'all tomorrow.

Click here to read the next journal.

WARNING: SPOILERS BELOW. DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE NEWEST EPISODE.

I'm going to try to do this each week so we all have a place to discuss the show.



OH FUCK. Last night's episode was so fantastic. I'm so glad this season is turning out so well.

So Desmond. Oh man. I feel so bad for him. Was his "time travel" real or a dream?

AND OMG CHARLIE????? AHHHHHH.

Discuss.

No one paid attention when I posted about John Amaechi coming out and the ridiculous comment firestorm that followed. Perhaps people will notice this the second time around:

Former Miami Heat superstar Tim Hardaway told a local sports radio show that he “hates gay people.”

Hardaway made the comments while he was being interviewed by Dan Le Batard on 790 the Ticket Wednesday afternoon.

The five time All Star was asked how he would deal with a gay teammate.

“First of all I wouldn’t want him on my team,” said Hardaway. “ “Second of all, if he was on my team I would really distance myself from him because I don’t think that’s right and I don’t think he should be in the locker room when we’re in the locker room.”

Le Batard took Hardaway to task, pointing out that his comments were “flatly homophobic” and bigoted, but that only seemed to stir up the former point guard.

“Well, you know, I hate gay people,” Hardaway said in response to Le Batard. “I let it be known I don’t like gay people. I don’t like to be around gay people. I’m homophobic. It shouldn’t be in the world, in the United States, I don’t like it.”

Truth is, it's hard to formulate an intelligent and articulate response to bigotry. Of course the first thing I want to do is spew out a bunch of expletive-laced rhetoric about how fucked this is. It's natural to want to do this when someone speaks so hatefully and so directly. (I mean, think about it: Tim Hardaway hates me and I've never even met him. How weird is that????)

I want to explain to him that gay people aren't savage beasts. (My BFF already did this.)

I want to parallel his hate with the hate his own race has received historically and show him the irony that he espouses.

But I'm just going to let it stand. I'm going to let the progressive community and the gay community burn him at the stake. They'll be a public outcry. Apologies will be demanded. I bet Hardaway will say his comments were taken out of context or he'll say something more ridiculous.

Either way, it's a sad state for homosexuality in America.

Right after removing his tongue from Big Business's mouth.

I've had the distinct displeasure of being fired from two jobs without any just cause; without a union behind me, without anyone to fight for me or use power/money to support me, I was just one lone individual standing against the army of coporate America.

Labor unions aren't perfect and I won't be a fool and say they are. But the reality of capitalism and the workforce is that, given a bottom line, a company will always act in the best interest of itself. Even at the expense of the people who help run it, of course.

So when I first head that Congress was strongly backing the Employee Free Choice Act, which made it much easier for employees to form a union, I was pretty happy.

The National Labor Relations Board is currently a pile of shit. They don't even pretend to support the rights of workers (especially given that they've shown, time and time again, that they'll support big business instead of complying with the norms of international human rights.) Trying to get a union approved through them is...well, I guess like trying to pass through the eye of a needle.

But research that. And then realize, after watching Cheney's speech on the Think Progress link, that the current administration truly does not care about workers' rights. He also thinks we're so stupid that we can't read.

Sigh.

Because holy hell, this is getting really really really really really really annoying.

I realize that, unfortunately, race is going to be a huge deal for his campaign. People are going to look at Obama's dark skin color and not vote for him just on that alone. Of course that's blatantly moronic, but I doubt these people realize this.

However, in recent weeks, it seems that all anyone can talk about is whether Barack Obama is black or white.

I'm going to make this very simple for you, Rush Limbaugh:

HE'S BOTH OF THEM. SHUT THE FUCK UP.

I understand singular stupidity. One person doing something idiotic. Maybe even three or four.

But please explain to me how an entire classroom of students somehow thought it was ok to follow their teacher's assignment and share one stick of gum between everyone. So they could learn about the "dangers of sexual promiscuity."

Now. Ok. Breathe. Before you slam your head on your desk, think about this:

This has happened more than once.

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That's my fist. On my keyboard.

I found that editorial (which I'll dissect in a second) through Think Progress. I laughed for a millisecond before I felt a bit of bile in my throat. It's not a joke. This actually happened.

So I clicked on the hyperlink, which brought me to the Washington Post editorial. I want to first make it apparent that I do agree with Marc Fisher's stance: Why the hell was such a nutjob organization given the task of teaching students about the complexity of sexual relations, especially since their mission statement is so massively simplistic?

(That statement: "Pregnancy is not the root problem, but a symptom of a lifestyle that is outside of God's will." Hmm. Are you surprised it's run by Christians?)

And guess how many people were exposed to this?

...the county repeatedly approved the Pregnancy Center's abstinence program, which was presented to more than 6,500 Montgomery eighth- and 10th-graders last year. She produces a stack of evaluations of the program by teachers and students, many of whom singled out the gum game for praise as a dramatic way to get across the role peer pressure plays in making bad decisions.

Even more baffling than this disgusting game are the other games they'd play. Like Pass the STD. Or "Exlax Game."

Exlax Game. Shall I elaborate? (I shall.)

In this game, students were handed squares of Hershey's chocolate, but before they popped the candy, they were told that a few kids had instead received Ex-Lax laxatives. Still want to eat it? Few did, and, in fact, Tierney assures me that although this exercise "really freaks them out," it is only a mind game designed to drive home the idea of random risk -- no laxatives were distributed to students.

WHAT THE HELL. You know some teachers got a kick out of slipping in a real piece of ExLax.

So why does this matter? Because when you leave this kind of education to a private organization with it's own agenda, this is what happens:

Those outsiders have a hidden agenda of their own. Tierney assures me there is no religious content to the school lessons. But her abstinence instructor says she makes a point of offering each class free pregnancy tests at the center. There, Tierney shows me how each woman who comes in for a test gets the full-court antiabortion press: a showcase of cute little plastic fetuses, a walk through a treasure chest of baby clothes, a video on the ravages of abortion and a sonogram "so they can hear the beating heart and see that this is a real, live baby," Tierney says.

"If a woman is totally panic-stricken and confused, if she wants to know that God loves her and has a plan for her, we're here for her," she says. "If she doesn't want to hear it, fine. There's no condemnation."

Tierney suspects the school system was "looking for a way to get rid of us" because of the center's religious, antiabortion perspective. Edwards says religion played no role in the approval or expulsion of the center.

Tierney is searching for a way back into the system's good graces: "If we're not there, who is going to give them the abstinence message?" How about the professionals we pay to do the job -- the teachers?

I'd rather have the Queen of fucking England talk to me about sexual education than you.

It was confirmed yesterday.

Ew. The man whose heroic actions included mere TV appearances after 9/11 wants to run our country.

Gross. I'll pass.

I initially had the pleasure of seeing The Explosion open numerous times for AFI back in 2003, right as Sing the Sorrow came out. They were on top of their game!

My interest has waned in the past few years. (Black Tape certainly didn't help.) So I'm pretty glad that they're taking the drop from Virgin Records in stride:

We are writing you from the dead of winter here in Park Slope Brooklyn, with a long over due update about The Explosion and our record, Bury Me Standing. As some of you may know, the record label that we have been working with for the past 3 years, Virgin Records, has decided not to release our new album, and release us from our contract. To some that may be bad news, but to others (who know about the perils of major labels) know that it is not such a bad thing. The good news, is that we have gotten the record back from Virgin, and are in the process of finding a label that may put it out.

We will keep you updated. Thanks to all of you who have been writing (over and over again) to find out what is up with the record. We hope to have it out ASAP.

Well, damn. I'll be looking forward to this.

PSSSST: Jade Tree. Wink wink.

I really dug Hot Damn! As for Gutter Phenomenon....not so much. Keith's vocals sucked. I missed his sassy voice.

So, while I'm interested to hear what they'll do next, I'm more stoked about the news that they're working with Brian Posehn on a mockumentary.

UMMM. WHY AREN'T YOU EXCITED LIKE I AM? Brian Posehn rules!

Nothing at all. Just read this and wonder what the hell went through these kids' minds.

A 10-year-old girl from Jamaica Plain has been arrested for a shocking and brutal attack at a Target department store in Dorchester.

Boston police say a gang of four young girls jumped a 22-year-old woman at the South Bay Target just before 4 p.m. Sunday after the woman bumped into the 10-year-old in an aisle and allegedly refused to apologize.

Police spokesman officer Eddy Chrispin told WBZ the girls knocked the woman to the floor, hit her, ripped some of her hair out and took off her pants.

Chrispin said witnesses told police the 10-year-old kicked the woman repeatedly in the head and stomach as she was being stripped and punched by the other three girls.

The 10-year-old was arraigned Monday in Boston Juvenile Court on a charge of assault and battery by means of a dangerous weapon (shod foot). She was released to the custody of her parents and ordered to return to court on March 5.

Police are seeking criminal complaints against three other females -- ages 20, 16 and 14 -- believed to have taken part in the attack.

A spokesman for the Suffolk District Attorney says the victim apparently did not know her assailants. Investigators are trying to recover any store surveillance footage that may show the attack.

Seriously. What the fuck?

PLEASE BE FOREWARNED. THERE ARE MORE SPOILERS THAN YOU CAN HANDLE IN THE LINK BELOW.




Yeah, no one warned me when I first read it. Bummer. But I suppose that's what I get for reading it.

LOST is on tomorrow and, according to this article, it's going to be one doozy of an episode. Actually, according to Damen Lindeloff and Carlton Cuse, the rest of this season is finally going to answer a great deal of questions. (Thank you for listening to us.)

So click here to read more. I'm pumped.

Glenn Beck is hilarious.

On the February 12 broadcast of his nationally syndicated radio show, Glenn Beck featured Philadelphia-based conservative radio host Dom Giordano, who claimed that "the mainstream media has dubbed [Sen. Barack Obama (D-IL)] to be African-American" and said, "If you start to, you know, delve around the edges, say, 'Wait a minute, isn't he mixed race? Weren't we told that last year?' Or whatever, biracial. Not allowed to say that anymore." Beck responded by saying "he's very white in many ways," adding, "Gee, can I even say that? Can I even say that without somebody else starting a campaign saying, 'What does he mean, "He's very white?" ' He is. He's very white."

After the interview, Beck attempted to clarify his comments to executive producer and head writer of The Glenn Beck Program, Steve Burguiere, who is known on-air as "Stu." Beck claimed that Obama "is colorless," adding that "as a white guy ... [y]ou don't notice that he is black. So he might as well be white, you know what I mean?" In addition, Beck said: "I guarantee you, there will be blogs today that will have me being a racist because I say that."

Just keep talking, dude. Dig the hole a little deeper.

Fucking Christ, this is disturbing. I don't even want to propose some sort of "What's-next?" brainstorm. This is bad enough.

A bill introduced last week by Representative Lamar Smith (R-TX) is beginning to raise eyebrows.

[It] would require ISPs to record all users' surfing activity, IM conversations and email traffic indefinitely.

The bill, dubbed the Safety Act by sponsor Lamar Smith, a republican congressman from Texas, would impose fines and a prison term of one year on ISPs which failed to keep full records. (emphasis mine)

This is a terrifying development and it must be stopped before it gains any significant momentum. Background, Action items and contact information below the fold.

Under the guise of reducing child pornography, the SAFETY (Stopping Adults Facilitating the Exploitation of Today's Youth Act) Act is currently the gravest threat to digital privacy rights on the Internet. Given the increasing tendency of people, especially young people, to use the Internet as a primary means of communications, this measure would effect nearly all Americans in ways we are only beginning to understand. Also, given the fact that the Act requires all Internet Service Providers to record the web surfing activity of all Internet users, this amounts to the warrantless wiretapping of the entire Internet.

How does Lamar Smith even expect this to be financially viable, for one? How does an ISP provider track everything I do? I visit a shit-ton of sites and I can't imagine them having to just follow me, let alone millions of thousands of other users.

But beyond that, this is simply one gigantic invasion of privacy. What sites I go to is my business. What I say in my AIM conversations is MY business. No one else needs to track that or know what I say.

Ex-Hot Water guitarist/vocalist Chuck Ragan has signed to SideOneDummy and I could not be happier.

I've had an on-going love affair with HWM and was heartbroken when they disbanded. But I've had a chance to catch Ragan three times as a solo acoustic unit. Always wonderful.

Now that he's going to record a full length, can we hope for a tour? Maybe join with his past bandmates (who are now in The Draft) and play one last Hot Water Music show just for me?

A boy can dream.









Hot Water Music "All Heads Down"

I really despise our Republican senator, Dana Rohrbacher, but this easily takes the cake:

“We don’t know what those other cycles [of global warming] were caused by in the past. Could be dinosaur flatulence, you know, or who knows?"

...............................

Dino farts caused global warming.

Someone club me to death.

Bill O'Reilly has been given the boot! (See? Sometimes complaining can work.)

So, if you remember, O'Reilly is a giant douchebag and the National Center for Exploited and Missing Children seemed to ignore that he had slandered kidnapped and raped children.

BUT NO MORE! O'Reilly will NOT be the keynote speaker at their fundraising event!

SPIN THAT, MOTHERFUCKER.

I swear that I have a sense of humor.

But holy goddamn hell, I have to admit that this is just a tad bit too far. (Atleast for a public forum.)

John Petroski, one of the editors over at Central Connecticut State University's school paper, is now defending his pro-rape rant as a mere joke.

Um. Dude. Learn how to write satire properly. And don't write about rape! Save your rape jokes for private, personal circles. Seriously.

As I blogged recently, I have a deep empathy for the homeless, having been homeless myself and knowing that the issue is so much more radically complex than most people would care to admit. This doesn't mean that I simply give change to anyone who asks. (That's far too passive for my taste.) I volunteer at the St. Francis Center in downtown LA whenever I get the chance, helping to serve meals, get people clothed, and to expose and inform myself to the current plight of the homeless in Skid Row.

I have spoken to many of the homeless here in Los Angeles and, while I certainly don't want this to seem as if I know EVERYONE who is homeless, I'm surprised how many people really aren't homeless of their own volition. I've met a great deal of people displaced by war, capitalism, family, and other various reasons. (A lot of Skid Row occupants are veterans, forgotten by this country long ago.)

Yes, there are people who choose to be homeless. Yes, there are those strung out on drugs and alcohol. Yes, some homeless people can be annoying, smelly, disturbing, violent, and completely insane. But does that mean they don't deserve what everyone else has?

Apparently Hollywood Presbyterian Hospital seems to think so. They're in hot water because they were caught dropping off a homeless parapalegic outpatient in Skid Row with (I'm not making this up) "nothing more than a soiled gown and a broken colostomy bag."

Extreme? Sure. I'll concede that. A single case? Not in a million years. Many hopsitals in the area have done the same and this is actually the second time HPH has been caught doing just this.

I know that we can't expect hospitals to act as homeless shelters. But come on! How lazy and careless do you have to be?

I've becomed obsessed with this new audio tool that good ol' Steve built for some of us to use. Yesterday, I posted one of my favorite Bad Religion songs, which inspired to begin a new musical endeavour: Punk Rock Song Of The Day.

Each day that I can get to a computer, I'll post a song I've enjoyed and hope to pass along to you, oh fellow Buzznet reader.

Today, I'm sharing with you the band From Ashes Rise. Unfortunately, they called it quits last year, much to my dismay. Blending hardcore, crust punk, and a massively dark aesthetic, they never fail to blow me away, even after their demise. They've also got some of the most articulate and inspiring political lyrics I've heard in a long time.

This song, "Reaction," is from their 2004 Jade Tree Release, Nightmares. If you dig this song, you'll like the rest of the album; dark, heavy, and fast, with some ingenius periods of reverb calm.

Whoa. I just read this blog post over at Shakespeare's Sister (<3) and......

Well, I don't what to say. Big ups to John Amaechi. I know how difficult it is to come out and have the ordeal be entirely in the public eye. (That's another blog post for the future. Bug me about it and I may tell it.)

But read the responses by other NBA players. Fucking. Insane.

Bullshit politicians open their mouths and say some ridiculous garbage all the time. It doesn't even phase me. Much like today's example, the claims are usually so absurd, I can't help but laugh that someone actually believes what they're saying.

Case in point: Colorado state senator David Schultheis (R) was heated by an emergency contraceptive debate (about whether to allow rape victims access to EC) when he said the following:

...how doctors "determine that a person actually did incur that sexual assault. Are they going to take the word of that individual? You could see individuals coming in that just wanted to make sure that last night's stand didn't result in a pregnancy and basically say that they had been a sexual assault" to get the contraceptive.

adfs
asdf
!#$!#$@!#$%%^$^%
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Right.
Right.
Because the first thing a woman thinks when she's worried about becoming pregnant is, "Goddamn, I better tell them I got raped."

Lesson of the day, kids: Don't let politicians open their mouths.