Anybody see Obama on TV yesterday?
(If you didn't, your TV is probably broken.)
I saw him on Stephanopolous, and I wondered, when I woke up this morning, if anybody out there would zero in on my favorite part of the interview.
Happily, Politics Daily did:
http://tinyurl.com/ktughf
I, for one, am sick to death of rudeness being glorified in this society. The more obnoxious you are, the bigger your five minutes of fame. And it's not just the media shamelessly creating "news" stories out of morons flicking boogers (which is all it amounts to). Ad space in newspapers and magazines is their life's blood, and it's pretty hard to come by in this economy (and with new technology sending print media the way of the dinosaurs.) Back in the late 90's, when I worked at The Wall Street Journal, we used to turn advertisers away because there was no more room for their ads. Good luck gettin' those days back.
Also, computers have drastically reduced our collective attention spans, so if you're gonna grab someone's attention, you'd better make a strong impression with your 10-second sound bites. "Have a nice day," isn't gonna cut it - nobody cares if someone is being nice to somebody else. Yawn. But try screaming "You lie!" at the president or crap all over someone's acceptance speech on an awards show, and that spotlight is YOURS. And a bigger nobody out there watching your madness will think, "Hey, I can be an even bigger asshole and then, cool - I can be somebody too!"
I thought it took a lot of courage for Obama to speak the truth about this mind pollution to the very agents who are dumping the sewage into the river. There are intelligent people (like George Will or Donna Brazile) who understand that to disagree with someone's ideas or policies doesn't mean snarling at your opponent or throwing a 2-year-old's tantrum at the Kmart. I applaud pundits who can maintain their dignity while respectfully debating one another. But Joe Wilson is not of these. Racists parading around the streets with Obama witch-doctor signs are not of these. Ignorant screamers at town hall meetings - who seemingly have no attention span for facts, yet hang onto every word of right-wing hate talk comin' out of Fox and Limbaugh - are not of these.
And the media needs to stop making them fashionable. The house is burning down and, instead of figuring out - uh, quickly - what we all have to do to distribute the water, we're too busy watching the next 10-year-old who can pop off an arm fart.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Depression and the Pursuit of Happiness
I love it when I hear a "news" story that doesn't surprise me at all...
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/32883786/ns/health-mental_health/
So, to recap here ... 19 to 25 year-olds think about suicide than any other age group.
Am I the only pop-head who can't figure out why this would surprise anybody?
First, let's consider why these whipper-snappers possibly think that life isn't worth living:
1) Schools do nothing to prepare them for a world that doesn't revolve around them,
2) Most parents keep perpetuating the lie that it does, even into their children's college years, and
3) These kids' realities aren't as exciting as what they see on "reality" shows or in video games.
Basically, we're raising bubble kids - kids who are living inside a massive, technologically enhanced lie. They're being taught that nothing is more important than their own individual "happy meters" - so, if they're not living the Hannah Montana Disney dream 24/7, there's something wrong. If they can dazzle the world as guitar heroes but still fail to succeed in real life, there's something wrong. If they can't have immediate, self-glorifying gratification in all things - "I need to make a phone call RIGHT NOW AND THEN I NEED TWITTER THE WORLD THAT I JUST ATE MY BREAKFAST" - whoa, there's something wrong. And boy, if they're not thin, clever and rich, there's definitely something wrong.
Now, let me just stop here and say that I have friends who are terrific parents and have managed - in spite of society's best efforts to screw it all up - to raise great, grounded kids. They know that being happy and beautiful and wealthy isn't why we're here. Many of them are serving their country in the military or in college seeking to find their critical missions in life. They are - in the midst of this hideous economy - finding inner strengths they hadn't known existed. They're out there.
Are they the minority?
I hope not. But I fear they are.
I think that the first thing over-thirties need to do to help the under-thirties is accept that we have, to our own degree, been sucked into the same brainwashing. How many over-thirties have, while pursuing that happiness our founding fathers encouraged us to seek, instead turned to some type of legal anesthesia (pills, booze, smokes, gambling, food, pick your fave) because dammit, WHERE IS IT? I'm supposed to find happiness! If I'm not happy, something's wrong! I'm depressed - cure it! Give me another pill! Honey, you're making me miserable - I want a divorce! I need to be happy! Screw the kids! Screw you! I'M GOING TO DIE SOON AND I MUST BE HAPPY!
During this past week - while I've been "furloughed" from my job (the fancy shmancy government term for "temporarily laid off") - I've been unhappy. I made a decision, over a year ago, to move back to Ohio so that I could better care for my family. I have two elderly parents - each with their own separate hell-on-earth issues - and an older brother who's slowly (let me emphasize "slowly" and add "painfully") dying from alcoholism. I spent much of my summer watching the clocks on the walls of the emergency rooms in two different hospitals. And, because I took a reduction in pay to take the job I currently have, I am now working two jobs which has me working seven days a week. I am blessed that I love one of them, and am not repulsed by the other. I am even more blessed that I even have ONE job. But am I happy? No - I'm exhausted and I'm broke and torture myself with my memories of Chicago and wanting desperately to move back and just live for me again. I have other torture tools as well - the memories of dead relationships, the fear that I'm more than halfway through life and haven't yet accomplished so many things I hoped to do. I could go on. I can always find more.
So can you, when you look at your own life.
No, I'm not happy. And I'm not going to take a pill that fools me into thinking I am. But I'm starting to accept that it's okay to not BE happy, because I think - right now - I'm pursuing something a lot better than happiness. Maybe it's my own salvation? Perhaps, but I know when I see it on my Mom or Dad's face that it's a worthwhile pursuit.
Besides, in 350 B.C., Chuang-Tzu said, "Happiness is the absence of striving for happiness."
I'm still learning to master this concept. Perhaps, if more of us could pursue THAT, we could convince our children that they, too, could give up the pursuit of happiness and pursue something more worthwhile than their own self-destruction.
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/32883786/ns/health-mental_health/
So, to recap here ... 19 to 25 year-olds think about suicide than any other age group.
Am I the only pop-head who can't figure out why this would surprise anybody?
First, let's consider why these whipper-snappers possibly think that life isn't worth living:
1) Schools do nothing to prepare them for a world that doesn't revolve around them,
2) Most parents keep perpetuating the lie that it does, even into their children's college years, and
3) These kids' realities aren't as exciting as what they see on "reality" shows or in video games.
Basically, we're raising bubble kids - kids who are living inside a massive, technologically enhanced lie. They're being taught that nothing is more important than their own individual "happy meters" - so, if they're not living the Hannah Montana Disney dream 24/7, there's something wrong. If they can dazzle the world as guitar heroes but still fail to succeed in real life, there's something wrong. If they can't have immediate, self-glorifying gratification in all things - "I need to make a phone call RIGHT NOW AND THEN I NEED TWITTER THE WORLD THAT I JUST ATE MY BREAKFAST" - whoa, there's something wrong. And boy, if they're not thin, clever and rich, there's definitely something wrong.
Now, let me just stop here and say that I have friends who are terrific parents and have managed - in spite of society's best efforts to screw it all up - to raise great, grounded kids. They know that being happy and beautiful and wealthy isn't why we're here. Many of them are serving their country in the military or in college seeking to find their critical missions in life. They are - in the midst of this hideous economy - finding inner strengths they hadn't known existed. They're out there.
Are they the minority?
I hope not. But I fear they are.
I think that the first thing over-thirties need to do to help the under-thirties is accept that we have, to our own degree, been sucked into the same brainwashing. How many over-thirties have, while pursuing that happiness our founding fathers encouraged us to seek, instead turned to some type of legal anesthesia (pills, booze, smokes, gambling, food, pick your fave) because dammit, WHERE IS IT? I'm supposed to find happiness! If I'm not happy, something's wrong! I'm depressed - cure it! Give me another pill! Honey, you're making me miserable - I want a divorce! I need to be happy! Screw the kids! Screw you! I'M GOING TO DIE SOON AND I MUST BE HAPPY!
During this past week - while I've been "furloughed" from my job (the fancy shmancy government term for "temporarily laid off") - I've been unhappy. I made a decision, over a year ago, to move back to Ohio so that I could better care for my family. I have two elderly parents - each with their own separate hell-on-earth issues - and an older brother who's slowly (let me emphasize "slowly" and add "painfully") dying from alcoholism. I spent much of my summer watching the clocks on the walls of the emergency rooms in two different hospitals. And, because I took a reduction in pay to take the job I currently have, I am now working two jobs which has me working seven days a week. I am blessed that I love one of them, and am not repulsed by the other. I am even more blessed that I even have ONE job. But am I happy? No - I'm exhausted and I'm broke and torture myself with my memories of Chicago and wanting desperately to move back and just live for me again. I have other torture tools as well - the memories of dead relationships, the fear that I'm more than halfway through life and haven't yet accomplished so many things I hoped to do. I could go on. I can always find more.
So can you, when you look at your own life.
No, I'm not happy. And I'm not going to take a pill that fools me into thinking I am. But I'm starting to accept that it's okay to not BE happy, because I think - right now - I'm pursuing something a lot better than happiness. Maybe it's my own salvation? Perhaps, but I know when I see it on my Mom or Dad's face that it's a worthwhile pursuit.
Besides, in 350 B.C., Chuang-Tzu said, "Happiness is the absence of striving for happiness."
I'm still learning to master this concept. Perhaps, if more of us could pursue THAT, we could convince our children that they, too, could give up the pursuit of happiness and pursue something more worthwhile than their own self-destruction.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Slapping, Spanking, and Other Stuff That Will Get You Arrested
Consider the following from the Associated Press:
http://tinyurl.com/qrbdmc
Okay - so now we have another person who's been arrested for disciplining someone else's child.
Of course, there should be zero tolerance when it comes to any stranger touching someone or someone's child without their permission. I'm not disputing that - nor would anybody with half a brain. Yet most of the comments that have been posted on this story are outraged pontifications about the evils of disciplining someone else's child.
When are we going to address the real problem?
Misbehaving children are a public nuisance. They're a disturbance. And, as such, they need to be properly managed by the parent or designated child-handler.
If the handler can't handle or refuses to handle the disruption, authorities need to be called and tickets need to be written.
At the very least, store or restaurant managers should be encouraged to evict these parents - and their rotten little angels - from the premises.
I love other people's children the way I love other people's dogs - housebroken and properly trained. If the child or pet pees on a public floor, or starts yapping uncontrollably, I expect the parent - or owner - to correct the problem. If the parent or owner is too lazy to do so, I expect the person to at least have enough sense to take the child or pet away to an obliging pooch park or playground where such behavior is acceptable.
When I was a child, my parents kept me at home until I was able to behave properly in society. By the time I was old enough to accompany my parents to the store or out to eat, I knew it was a great privilege I had won and that to keep it I had to act in a certain way.
When my sister came home to visit this summer, we went out to lunch at a lovely restaurant in Lakewood. Our experience was ruined because someone's screaming (yes, SCREAMING) child was permitted to run loose; in fact, the idiot father who had spawned the toddling nightmare thought the Babe in Annoyland was CUTE. The wait staff all looked like they wanted to commit mass suicide, yet were probably fearing the inevitable, "I'll sue you!" if they dared approach the Loud Family and asked them to leave.
Bottom line - this crap has to stop. I know we've got parents who are lazy and stupid and breeding the next generation of The Lazy and The Stupid, but they need to practice their L & S far away from me, because my rights - hell, my sensibilities - are being violated. Local governments are going broke and need some quick money - so start writing out those citations, boys in blue.
Our towns will be richer and most of us will be a LOT happier. At any rate, I think we could all use some quiet.
http://tinyurl.com/qrbdmc
Okay - so now we have another person who's been arrested for disciplining someone else's child.
Of course, there should be zero tolerance when it comes to any stranger touching someone or someone's child without their permission. I'm not disputing that - nor would anybody with half a brain. Yet most of the comments that have been posted on this story are outraged pontifications about the evils of disciplining someone else's child.
When are we going to address the real problem?
Misbehaving children are a public nuisance. They're a disturbance. And, as such, they need to be properly managed by the parent or designated child-handler.
If the handler can't handle or refuses to handle the disruption, authorities need to be called and tickets need to be written.
At the very least, store or restaurant managers should be encouraged to evict these parents - and their rotten little angels - from the premises.
I love other people's children the way I love other people's dogs - housebroken and properly trained. If the child or pet pees on a public floor, or starts yapping uncontrollably, I expect the parent - or owner - to correct the problem. If the parent or owner is too lazy to do so, I expect the person to at least have enough sense to take the child or pet away to an obliging pooch park or playground where such behavior is acceptable.
When I was a child, my parents kept me at home until I was able to behave properly in society. By the time I was old enough to accompany my parents to the store or out to eat, I knew it was a great privilege I had won and that to keep it I had to act in a certain way.
When my sister came home to visit this summer, we went out to lunch at a lovely restaurant in Lakewood. Our experience was ruined because someone's screaming (yes, SCREAMING) child was permitted to run loose; in fact, the idiot father who had spawned the toddling nightmare thought the Babe in Annoyland was CUTE. The wait staff all looked like they wanted to commit mass suicide, yet were probably fearing the inevitable, "I'll sue you!" if they dared approach the Loud Family and asked them to leave.
Bottom line - this crap has to stop. I know we've got parents who are lazy and stupid and breeding the next generation of The Lazy and The Stupid, but they need to practice their L & S far away from me, because my rights - hell, my sensibilities - are being violated. Local governments are going broke and need some quick money - so start writing out those citations, boys in blue.
Our towns will be richer and most of us will be a LOT happier. At any rate, I think we could all use some quiet.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Queasy Rider?
Have y'all seen this one?
http://www.thesmokinggun.com/archive/years/2009/0331091stool1.html
If you haven't, put down your coffee, click on the link, and take a look. The photo alone is priceless.
So ...this guy in Ohio gets arrested for driving drunk on a bar stool ...but I think people are really missing the point here. No, it's never good to ride drunk on anything. I had an ex-boyfriend who used to suck down a couple of beers (okay, 17 or 18 - for him, that was "a couple") and then ride his bicycle to the 7-Eleven to buy more. I was never so proud as when I would see him weaving his way back down the street, steering with one hand and toting a case of Bud with the other.
My point here is that it's never good to do anything like this, because drunks are delusional. Stan (not his real name, but it'll do), was NEVER drunk. Never. In his view, he wasn't drunk because he wasn't falling down. He was merely "buzzed", and "buzzed" was a good thing. It was the desired state. He used to get mad at me because I didn't live my life in a constant state of buzzitude. I tended to be a special occasion sort of drinker - you know, the sort who generally only drank when I didn't plan on driving a car home that night or to work the next day. This didn't make me any better than Stan (after all, wasn't I choosing to call this person my boyfriend?), but it did prove that my healthy respect for personal injury and courthouses was still intact.
But I digress.
When I saw this photo of this lunkhead, my first thought wasn't, "What a moron." That was my SECOND thought. My first thought was, "Wow, isn't he inventive?" I mean, I've known plenty of drunks. I lived in Florida. I've been to Daytona. And at least half of them were always swilling down cases of the juice while tying up their car mufflers or installing bigger tires on their trucks. One must applaud their ability to multi-task, but not one of them could have turned a bar stool and a lawnmower into a vehicle capable of going 40 mph down the street.
While I was living in Florida, I dated Stan for a year. He had this truck sitting in his backyard that never went ANYWHERE. It was capable of going ZERO mph because the thing was never in one piece. I think there was a colony of rats living underneath it ... heck, for all I know, there was a secret doorway to a lost city hidden beneath the chassis. A lost city with Gold. Money. More beer!
So let me be one of the few to stand up and applaud Kile Wygle, The Smoking Gun's "fool on a stool." He dared to be different than those run-of-the-mill, redneck drunks tinkering with their Hot Wheels. He invented something new. He made it work. And he stayed drunk doing it.
How American can you get?
http://www.thesmokinggun.com/archive/years/2009/0331091stool1.html
If you haven't, put down your coffee, click on the link, and take a look. The photo alone is priceless.
So ...this guy in Ohio gets arrested for driving drunk on a bar stool ...but I think people are really missing the point here. No, it's never good to ride drunk on anything. I had an ex-boyfriend who used to suck down a couple of beers (okay, 17 or 18 - for him, that was "a couple") and then ride his bicycle to the 7-Eleven to buy more. I was never so proud as when I would see him weaving his way back down the street, steering with one hand and toting a case of Bud with the other.
My point here is that it's never good to do anything like this, because drunks are delusional. Stan (not his real name, but it'll do), was NEVER drunk. Never. In his view, he wasn't drunk because he wasn't falling down. He was merely "buzzed", and "buzzed" was a good thing. It was the desired state. He used to get mad at me because I didn't live my life in a constant state of buzzitude. I tended to be a special occasion sort of drinker - you know, the sort who generally only drank when I didn't plan on driving a car home that night or to work the next day. This didn't make me any better than Stan (after all, wasn't I choosing to call this person my boyfriend?), but it did prove that my healthy respect for personal injury and courthouses was still intact.
But I digress.
When I saw this photo of this lunkhead, my first thought wasn't, "What a moron." That was my SECOND thought. My first thought was, "Wow, isn't he inventive?" I mean, I've known plenty of drunks. I lived in Florida. I've been to Daytona. And at least half of them were always swilling down cases of the juice while tying up their car mufflers or installing bigger tires on their trucks. One must applaud their ability to multi-task, but not one of them could have turned a bar stool and a lawnmower into a vehicle capable of going 40 mph down the street.
While I was living in Florida, I dated Stan for a year. He had this truck sitting in his backyard that never went ANYWHERE. It was capable of going ZERO mph because the thing was never in one piece. I think there was a colony of rats living underneath it ... heck, for all I know, there was a secret doorway to a lost city hidden beneath the chassis. A lost city with Gold. Money. More beer!
So let me be one of the few to stand up and applaud Kile Wygle, The Smoking Gun's "fool on a stool." He dared to be different than those run-of-the-mill, redneck drunks tinkering with their Hot Wheels. He invented something new. He made it work. And he stayed drunk doing it.
How American can you get?
Sunday, March 29, 2009
What Have Those Rotten Kids Done To My Candy?
Seriously, man .... I'm ready to pop.
When I was a kid, and went out trick-or-treating on Halloween (which was quite dangerous, given that dinosaurs were then roaming the neighborhood), my all-time favorite candy in the entire candy universe was "Smarties", those little cellophane rolls of colored, tart-ilicious sin. There wasn't a candy bar in my plastic, smiley-faced pumpkin that could stand up to the sugar highs I got from ingesting the best legal kiddie drug on the streets. Even now, as an adult, I get all nostalgic when I see bags of those cheerful candy rolls on the shelves of the Giant Eagle. And then I get shaky. And then I flash back to those inevitable sugar withdrawals that would surely set in by Thanksgiving.
Ah, that was a simpler time ... before the maker of the candy came up with tropical flavors, mammoth-sized wafers and "extreme" sour varieties that blistered my tongue when I stupidly tried one. A simpler time, before school kids decided to take my favorite little snack in the world and ruin it.
According to an article that ran in last week's Wall Street Journal, the latest craze among school-kids is "smoking" Smarties. Seriously ... kids apparently take out a roll, smash the dickens out of it, pulverize it into a fine powder, put the whole thing into their mouths (cellophane included) and then blow the sugar "smoke" out through their noses. It makes it appear that they are exhaling without the benefit of a having to buy cigarettes.
My very first thought - when I read the first paragraph or two of this news story - was that there must be SOME kind of high the kids were getting from inhaling vs. swallowing it. Was the sugar absorbed more quickly through the inner membranes of the nasal cavity? Did the dust somehow get sucked up into the skull, causing possible brain damage (which always renders any given drug that much more attractive to the apprentice junkie)?
There had to be SOME benefit to this bizarre practice other than, "hey, don't I look cool?
Nope ... not one ...unless you count pissing off parents and school administrators. But there's no buzz at all. No hallucinations. No bursts of creative genius. Not even delusions of grandeur. Nuttin'.
Even the possible side-effects aren't all that enticing. No, no brain damage. But you might get one stuck up your nose, where it will slowly have to melt before you use that particular canal to breath. There is some risk of choking to death on the wrapper. Or, even better, doctors have warned that the presence of sugar in the nasal cavity can attract maggots.
***
And while on the subject of sinuses ...
If you do get a Smartie stuck up your nose, may I recommend NeilMed Sinus Rinse? My sister (the Consumer Queen) turned me onto this stuff, and it's really fantastic. If you're anything like me, and perpetually snotting and sneezing (or chain-smoking powdered candy and fearful of hatching flies), it's a really refreshing way to flush out your sinuses so you don't have to go through life breathing through your mouth and being labeled a geek.
Because it's not about comfort, it's about looking cool.
http://online.wsj.com/article/SB123750945477390601.html
http://www.neilmed.com/
When I was a kid, and went out trick-or-treating on Halloween (which was quite dangerous, given that dinosaurs were then roaming the neighborhood), my all-time favorite candy in the entire candy universe was "Smarties", those little cellophane rolls of colored, tart-ilicious sin. There wasn't a candy bar in my plastic, smiley-faced pumpkin that could stand up to the sugar highs I got from ingesting the best legal kiddie drug on the streets. Even now, as an adult, I get all nostalgic when I see bags of those cheerful candy rolls on the shelves of the Giant Eagle. And then I get shaky. And then I flash back to those inevitable sugar withdrawals that would surely set in by Thanksgiving.
Ah, that was a simpler time ... before the maker of the candy came up with tropical flavors, mammoth-sized wafers and "extreme" sour varieties that blistered my tongue when I stupidly tried one. A simpler time, before school kids decided to take my favorite little snack in the world and ruin it.
According to an article that ran in last week's Wall Street Journal, the latest craze among school-kids is "smoking" Smarties. Seriously ... kids apparently take out a roll, smash the dickens out of it, pulverize it into a fine powder, put the whole thing into their mouths (cellophane included) and then blow the sugar "smoke" out through their noses. It makes it appear that they are exhaling without the benefit of a having to buy cigarettes.
My very first thought - when I read the first paragraph or two of this news story - was that there must be SOME kind of high the kids were getting from inhaling vs. swallowing it. Was the sugar absorbed more quickly through the inner membranes of the nasal cavity? Did the dust somehow get sucked up into the skull, causing possible brain damage (which always renders any given drug that much more attractive to the apprentice junkie)?
There had to be SOME benefit to this bizarre practice other than, "hey, don't I look cool?
Nope ... not one ...unless you count pissing off parents and school administrators. But there's no buzz at all. No hallucinations. No bursts of creative genius. Not even delusions of grandeur. Nuttin'.
Even the possible side-effects aren't all that enticing. No, no brain damage. But you might get one stuck up your nose, where it will slowly have to melt before you use that particular canal to breath. There is some risk of choking to death on the wrapper. Or, even better, doctors have warned that the presence of sugar in the nasal cavity can attract maggots.
***
And while on the subject of sinuses ...
If you do get a Smartie stuck up your nose, may I recommend NeilMed Sinus Rinse? My sister (the Consumer Queen) turned me onto this stuff, and it's really fantastic. If you're anything like me, and perpetually snotting and sneezing (or chain-smoking powdered candy and fearful of hatching flies), it's a really refreshing way to flush out your sinuses so you don't have to go through life breathing through your mouth and being labeled a geek.
Because it's not about comfort, it's about looking cool.
http://online.wsj.com/article/SB123750945477390601.html
http://www.neilmed.com/
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