Reflections and ruminations on life as a young man at the beginning of the 21st century.

Tuesday, March 28, 2006

Best deal ever ...

Abdul Rahman, the man that was on trial for converting to Christianity in Afghanistan, has been released. He's now seeking asylum in another country. All in all, it's a pretty sweet deal: Keep your life, get the hell out of Afghanistan.

I think he should come to America and start doing standup, like Yakov Smirnoff.

"In America, you go to church. In Afghanistan, fascist ideologues hunt down any hint of dissent and torture and/or kill you."

Comic gold.

Sunday, March 26, 2006

Liberal elitist sounds off ...

I'm sick of the cliche of the "down-to-earth, average American." Time and again the coasts and major cities are labeled as out of touch or looking down from ivory towers. Fox News even has a show called "Heartland," tapping into the illusion that people on farms are somehow wiser on matters of foreign policy than those who have actually visited other nations.

So I'm going to make a bold statement here, one that will undoubtedly get me painted as a "liberal elitist": the average American is a fucking idiot. Now before you get all up in arms, I'm not saying that citizens of other nations are any brighter. I'm not an Englishman or Frenchman, so I can't speak to their shortcomings; I can speak to those of my countryman.

Far from being clearheaded, intelligent decision makers, the American populace is more like a retarded blind man in the woods. After bumping into about 20 trees, they realize they may be in a forest.

The evidence for this is fresh in the form of the Iraq War. Now that most people have wised up about the deceptive techniques used to get public support for the war, they are suprised and outraged. The problem is, the techniques weren't that clever in the first place.

I was against the war from the beginning, not for any love of Saddam Hussein or his rape rooms. The two things that stood out as red flags for me were the low quality of the evidence, and the potential strategic disaster a power vacuum in Iraq could create.

Speaking to the evidence, simply put, there was nothing that would have stood up in small claims court. All we had evidence of was that Saddam had some WMD that he had declared to the U.N. after the first Gulf War. These weapons were the kind that every nation with a desire to possess them could get.

In short, launching a war against Iraq to get some nerve gas would be like invading a nation to get rid of bullets. Everyone has them, and terrorists could get them from a number of sources.

This didn't matter to the majority of Americans, as President Bush trotted out the 9-11 boogeyman, linking Saddam to Osama and predicting that the smoking gun would be a mushroom cloud over the desert. He had to use this colorful language because, in reality, there was no smoking gun. Hyperbole has been a strong point of this administration.

Secondly, there was no consideration of what happened the day after Baghdad fell. The majority of Americans seemed to think the Iraqi capital was Paris, and that the Iraqis would welcome Americans in. This with the fact that we had imposed harsh sanctions that, while manipulated by Saddam, did nothing but make life more difficult for the average Iraqi ever since the first war. Furthermore, no country likes to be occupied. Coupled with the insane religiosity of the region, it was a recipe for disappointment and disaster.

Over 2,300 Americans have now died in the Iraq War. It's estimated that 30,000 Iraqi civilians have been killed. That number alone is equivalent to 10 9-11 attacks. Iraq is also a much smaller nation than the United States, making that number even more jarring.

So what should have been done about Saddam? Many people may have overlooked this, but weapons inspectors were back in the country before we attacked. They found nothing. No surprise there, as apparently there wasn't much to find.

It seemed that the president had grown weary of containment strategy. Unfortunately, he bought into the falsehood of a simple, one-step solution for the problem of Iraq in the form of a war.

It has been a disaster. Hopefully democracy can be salvaged for the sake of the Iraqis and those who have died in the war. Otherwise, it will take far more creative men than Washington D.C. has to come up with a reason they paid the ultimate price.

So, America, while President Bush and his administration are certainly to blame for choosing war as the best course of action and playing fast and loose with the facts, it's your tacit approval that made it all the easier to get into this mess. If your approval rating of Bush has fallen, your self esteem should plummet by the same amount.

A suggestion: Read a newspaper for an hour a night in leiu of watching "American Idol" or the Christian Broadcast Network. You just may learn something that saves someone's life down the line. And then we may be able to see the average American as someone more than a child led by the nose by a cynical P.R. machine in D.C.

Thursday, March 23, 2006

Tales from Tucson ...

As I was riding the bus in Tucson with my girlfriend last weekend, a group of men got on. One had a Bible with him, and their conversation soon turned to it.

"I never go anywhere without my sword!" the man carrying the Bible remarked several times.

"You've gotta read Genesis 1-19," the other replied. "Page three."

"Page three?" the first man asked, somewhat puzzled. Even he knew that Bibles weren't all paginated the same. He turned to the relevant verses and read one. It bore no relevance to anyone, and his tone quickly turned to one of confusion.

At this point the fan of Genesis (the book, not Phil Collins' old band) started doing chin-ups with the use of the overhead bar on the bus.

Why do the crazies gravitate toward the good book? You never see a drugged up homeless man reading from a book on quantum mechanics and arguing about the nature of space-time. It must be the theatrics that attract them to it.

In any event, neither my girlfriend or I made eye contact with the men, scared that we might be drawn into the conversation. And then I'd have to reveal my heretical nature by arguing that Jesus didn't have a beard.

Saturday, March 18, 2006

Afghan Diaries, Part II ...

Satellite uplink enabled ... Transmitting ...

As you know I've been in the wasteland that is the Afghan/Pakistani border searching for Osama bin Laden. My purpose? To defecate on his beard, therefore paying him back in spades for the trouble he has caused my country.

But today I received some disappointing news. I ran into a British secret agent named Sky, who was doing some undercover work for the UK. She had disguised herself as a camel with the clever use of some extremely tight leather pants, and recognized me as a fellow Westerner.

She told me bin Laden has shaved his beard to better disguise himself. This means my mission has failed by default. With no beard, there is no comedy/revenge. If I were to defecate on him now, I'd simply be shitting on a man's shorn face. And that would be kind of sick.

I'll be returning to the States soon enough. First there's the matter of debriefing Sky. Hey, I can't let this trip be a complete waste. God bless America ... and may a million years of flatulence fall upon the house of bin Laden.

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

Exclusive song premiere!

I've been lucky enough to get my hands on the new song "Tomorrow's Sun Never Sets" by James Taylor and Beyonce. I have to admit that they seem a mismatched pair. See if you can spot which songwriter contributed which verses.

Tomorrow's Sun Never Set

As I wake up in the morning
I hear the rooster sing his song
I've only got 12 hours
Before that sun is gone

So I better hit the clubs
And meet a man who knows what's up
Drop down on my knees
And wait until that man erupts

I've never seen a day so sweet
But soon it fades away
But the sun never sets on tomorrow
And never rises on yesterday

Rolling in the Escalade
Got my ladies by my side
Soon the club be closing
Ain't found a man to ride

And when my time is over
I'll rest in perfect peace
As long as I find love tonight
My fear will be released

I lay down next to him
Grinding all night long
Watch out for his hot honey
Don't wanna do this wrong

And when tomorrow comes
Today passes by and by
I'll sit and watch the sun rise
With my lover by my side

WOW! Quite a peace of work. Comments?

Sunday, March 12, 2006

MySpace junk mail ...

I got this in my inbox on MySpace tonight from someone named Heather:

Hey there, you really should check out my webcam! Its free and I am getting so close to getting naked!

Now let's get something straight here, Heather. I don't have time to visit your site, be barraged by pop-up ads, and then suffer through spyware hassles for weeks to see "getting so close" to naked.

Hell, I can step outside onto the street and see women "getting so close" to naked that it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Why would you go to the trouble to set up a webcam just to do it half-assed? A real go-getter would show the whole ass, and then some. Apathy is a pitiful thing.

Can you tell that I'm "getting so close" to being frustrated? Take your sleazy tease somewhere else and stop taking away from my time searching the net for "lindsay," "lohan," "ice cream," "bath." There are only so many days in a year.

Friday, March 10, 2006

My plan not to steal the Queen Mary ...

You know what would be awesome? Stealing the ocean liner Queen Mary from Long Beach and taking her out to sea for a festival called, oh, I don't know, "Sexploration '06?"

I won't do it, though. I'll never climb onboard, hotwire the S.O.B. and escape under cover of night with just me and 200 supermodels onboard.

I won't drop anchor off of Catalina Island and proceed to drink for hours before passing out and waking up in the crow's nest. And I certainly would have pants on, if that ever happened, which it won't.

I won't set off a world tour, where I'd stop in at different ports and welcome aboard all of the most beautiful women from the respective country. And I won't freak dance with all of them.

On the second week I won't paint giant nipples on the side of the ship and call it the "Queen Mammary." And it would be in bad taste to replace the low growl of her fog horn with the Black Eyed Peas' "My Humps."

It's not for any fear of the law that I'd think twice about this. Unfortunately, the Queen Mary no longer has any boilers. Which means unless I use those supermodels to get out and push, my dream will remain just that.

Saturday, March 04, 2006

Hollywood is important...

There's some controversy (hint: free publicity) about Jon Stewart hosting the Oscars. "Oscar pundit" Tim O'Neil says he's miscast and shouldn't insult the Hollywood establishment like he does the one in Washington, D.C.

"You don't mock the importance of the event. This isn't the MTV Music Video Awards," he told Reuters.

The importance of the event? He makes it sound like the Nuremberg Trials. Oscar night is, at its core, a celebration of people who get paid to play make believe. It's a night where, setting aside all anatomical obstacles, an entire industry manages to fellate itself as a reward for, at least this year, some lackluster box office returns.

As someone not in the entertainment industry (though, sadly, sometimes journalism is damn close), it really rubs me the wrong way to hear how important it is. News flash to all the "Oscar pundits" out there: it's entertainment. While a few film geeks out there may think a movie changed their lives and the course of history, most of us just go to see our favorite actress show some skin.

So let's all take a deep breath and let Mr. Stewart do his best. Hollywood should be afraid, but not of his criticisms. The Daily Show crew regularly outdo the best comedy writers in the movie business. What I'm saying is, his performance could be funnier than "Brokeback Mountain."

Thursday, March 02, 2006

Afghan Diaries...

Satellite uplink established ... Uploading data now ...

I write to you from near the Afghan/Pakistani border. The land is parched, dry and lonesome, much like Anne Coulter's vagina.

I did not tell you of my trip because it must be conducted in the utmost secrecy. Even now I fear this short message may reveal me to those who wish me harm.

I have come to this god-forsaken, but Allah-ripe, place for one reason. To locate Osama bin Laden and bring justice to him ... specifically, by defecating on his beard.

You may think me a madman to come all this way, to spend the days hiding behind boulders and the nights dodging Al-Qaeda scouts. But this mission is just that important. Osama bin Laden must realize his great sins, and this will be accomplished with the aid of a bran muffin and a bit of American ingenuity.

I am not interested in the reward money or the glory that would undoubtedly follow my apprehending this fugitive. To be honest, I'd rather do my business and then part ways. The joy of capture belongs to our brave fighting men and women; the joy of dropping a steamer on his long beard belongs to me.

Some will say it's an unconventional, even disgusting move. I say, have you forogotten his crimes? His attacks on America in 2001, followed by videos with increasingly worse production values and meandering storylines? Now he releases cassette tapes, forcing our agents to locate a tape player amongst their CDs and iPods.

America, I will not rest until my mission comes to fruition. It is dangerous, but I'm willing to go into it head on. If you hear a scream coming from this sprawling desert wasteland, do not fear for me. I will go silently if captured ... it is Osama who will cry out when he realizes I have dropped the ultimate dirty bomb on him, and also stolen all the T.P. in his camp.

God bless you, and may God bless America.

Transmission ended ...