So in order to confront the iminent threat of vapid vibrations, I bring you Pop Watch which will be a recuring institution here so that readers can educate themselves about the disgusting happenings in pop music without ever having to turn on a Top 40 radio station. I know what your thinking. Its too bold. Why would anyone in their right might dare do such a thing as listen to and review pop music. I admit it is a selfless act, well not entirely selfless. Considering that work regularly deposits me in the bowels of consumerism and I am forced to listen and watch Yakoo. A music service where you get to, via coded text message, ”choose” what they play. Some restrictions apply. Void where prohibited. Choices may be limitted to mind dulling, vomit enducing, and bowel evacuating jingles.   So I am doing this to  help others avoid the pain I went though on Wenesday. Luckily music videos are now chock full of product placement, so inadvertant adverts can tempt me to buy useless shit with money I don’t have. Which is convenient when they are playing in a mall.

Now contrary to what you might be thinking, this post is very serious. For while the news media is one half of the propaganda machine that provides a veneer of factual accountablilty for the happenings around the globe, music and television are the other half. They provide us with subtle (and blatant) cues about how we should act and what we should want. From what I’ve been able to gather from whatching music videos (the same ones over and over again) I should want to get rich, drunk, then bang streams of girls till I fall in love with a girl who acts like a total bitch. Unless its a Justin Bieber video,  then I suppose I can either run through the ladies or become a homosexual statuatory rapist.

While I feel a nine-hundred word rant on Ke$ha may appropriate, I will spare you. I am afriad more subtle threats to human decency have appeared on the pop music horizon. More subtle threats like this moron. In case you are unfamiliar with Travie Mccoy, he wants to be a billionare… so fricken’ bad. While I undertand that wealth is an institution we all wish we could partake in, Travie couldn’t you have been more orinal in expressing your desire to be filthy rich? Are you aware how most peope make such fat stacks? Or the implications or such the uneven distribution of wealth on the populace?

To be fair Travie says if he was a billionare he’d “pull and Angelina and Brad Pitt.” He’d adopt orphans and go to New Orleans and help more than FEMA did and give away mercedes and make sure non of his friends were hungry. Well Travie must not know much about being a billinionare because in 2005 the goverment passed a $62 Billion aid package for New Orleans. Good luck Travie.  Now this song peaked at number 4 on the charts. Clearly everyone wants to be billionare… so fricken bad, that they are content to listen to shitty pop songs about it just to indulge their fantasies.  If they listen to it closer they might relize during the verses (who listens to the verses), Travie really just want to redistribut wealth while taking loads of it for himself. So really he’s just a bolshevic pretending to be a low-rent pop sensation.  Although he does want to be on the cover of Forbes and hang with Oprah, so I guess hes more like a Chinese Communist Party official who is embracing capitalism. Travie really needs to put down the microphone and pick up the Kalishnakov. Atleast then the security aparati would do away with him before he releases his next album. Don’t get me wrong the redistribution of wealth doesn’t sound like something I am totally against. I just don’t want our school children being taught that Travie Mccoy is the supreme being-billionare. 

However anoying Travie may be, his self-agradizing fantasy put to tape (or hard disk) pales by comparison to that of Taio Cruz who has been leaving footprints all over the charts.  Taio as you may know likes to throw his hands in the air sometimes and say ayo, baby lets go. Yes, unconcerned with funneling wealth that we all want… so fricken’ bad, Taio just wants to celbrate and live his life, saying ayo, baby lets go. He also advises you to get out of his and his crews way. Now I understand the urged to get pissed (as the brits say) and dance the night away, but again couldn’t you have been more original and less pretensious. What about your life is so worth celbrating Taio? The fact that the radio can’t stop playing vitriol so hacks like you have the privledge of forcing me to contemplate stabbing out my eardrums with crocheting needles? Well good for you Taio, celebrate you earned. Mean while the rest of us will just keep drinking to forget, while you revel in your ill begoten power and wealth. I’m glad the media empire bends over backwards to spout your dribble while other perhaps more introspective or reflective or original music is buried in locked vault the people who seek it must search the ends of the earth for it.

“Dynomite,”  the song I am refering to, like alot of the music out these days, isn’t so much a song with a sung melody of perhaps a poem well thought out in advance, no its more like verbal diahree. Just a bunch of buzz words and phrases that sounds enticeing, but don’t mean anything. Consider the lines,

Cause we gonna rock this club

Like it’s dynomite

We gonna go all night

We gonna light it up

Like its dynomite

‘ Cause I told you once

 Now I told you twice

We gonna light it up

 Like its dynomite.

 Third time is the charm when it comes to explosive simoles. This is during the all eight note base line part, that now come standards on all pop songs. I believe we have the Black Eyed Peas to thank for this phenemenon, but as of yet I am unsure as to where it first originated.  

While we have covered getting drunk and rich, Usher provides us with the next piece of pop music lifestyle advice: sleep around. Though his song “OMG” does talk about love, I don’t think its the let’s get married kind. Consider the lines, “Honey got a booty like pow, pow, pow / Honey got some boobies like wow, oh wow.” He also fell in love with her on the dance floor, a common phenomenon in pop music, and judging from the video he has yet to leave the dance floor. Some how I think this song is less about falling in love than finding ladies with boobies like wow, oh wow. Then putting ones nether regions amongst said boobies until satisfaction is achieved. I don’t want to presume anything now, becasue T-Pain did actually come close to falling in love with a stripper. If you count sharing a woman with your brother falling in love that is.  I do also wonder if David Guetta and Akon ever did find words to describe that girl without being disrespectful. Some how I don’t think, “Damn yous a sexy bitch, a sexy bitch/ Damn yous a sexy bitch, damn girl,” is that respectful.  None the less the message is clear. Find a girl, make sure she is hot, then have sex with her.

Of course though the idea there is to find a girl so unattainable that you actually do fall in love. Even if its only so that everyone sees you with the finest piece of booty in the club, its still love. Obviously you should look for the coolest mate you can find. Mike Posner touches on this with his song “Cooler Than Me,” in which he laments his unrequited love of a total bitch. He opines,

You got designer shades,

Just to hide your face and

You wear them around like

You’re cooler than me.

And you never say hey,

Or remember my name.

Its probably cuz,

You think you’re cooler than me.

Or it might be “cuz” shes a total bitch. Fortunately she seems smart as she got “shoes on her feet.” She seems like a real catch, most girls have trouble figuring out what to do with those damn things.  There you have it. The pop-doctrine is complete.

I picked the Kennedy’s because the becuase I just read the book The Kennedy Men: Three Generations Of Sex, Scandal And Secrets by Nellie Bly. Again I picked the Kennedys also for the strength of the myth that allows people to revere them with out looking like a moron.  This myth even fooled the cynical me. Until a while back I might have defended Kennedy, but now the only thing they are responsible for that I can be proud of is JFK smoking the green in the White House. The point of this post isn’t that the Kennedys are the worst politicalicians ever to hypnotize a people. Stalin did alot more terrible things than all the Kennedy’s combined. However, we hold the Kennedy’s a little bit differently in the history books. Comparing Stalin to the Kennedys isn’t apt, a more apropriate comparison would be to some of the Gangsters Ole Joe and the boys relied on for votes. Who Bobby later turned his back on.

The point of this article is that to attack the notion that our politicans are anyone to look up to. This article goes out the the people who champion FDR with out looking closely enough at his legacy to rember the Japanese internment camps or his own Machevelian political tactics. Looking up to politicians as role models is either naive or sinister, but a truely sinister person would probably say they like to keep thier work and personal lifes seperate and they only look up to politicians on the purely proffesional level of fucking people over.  Eitherway its time for the poeple suffering from political stockholm syndrome to do the rest of us a favor and wise up.

Fist off lets get one thing straight the Kennedy’s great plan for America was them running it. That’s it. Their legecsy was not great dreams of a liberal utopia, nor a  great vision for civil rights, nor a surrepticious attack on the Federal Reserve as some conspiracys theorist are fond of suggesting, just a quest for power. They were plain and simple politicians.

Joe and Rose, being good Catholics pumped out nine children: Joe, John, Rosemary, Kathleen, Eunice, Patricia, Bobby, Jean and Teddy. In the quest for the Presidency and power Joe, John, and Bobby would be kiled, Rosemary lobotamized, Kathleen excomunicated for marying a divorce Anglican and Teddy driven over the brink of aceptable insanity. While the Kennedy’s were raised learning that winning was everything, the girls weren’t allowed to participate in politics.  One reason we know them no by one name, but my many (JFK/Jack/John/President John F. Kennedy, RFK/Bobby/Senator Robert F. Kennedy, Teddy/Ed/Eddy/Senator Edward) is because Ambasador Joe/Joeseph senior/Ambassodor Joesepth P. Kennedy cultivated a long and lasting relationship with  the press including megoliths like William Radolf Hearst. Copy-councious reporters had to think up cut nicknames some of which were used at Kennedy request such as JFK, which brings to mind FDR.   

This leads me to the first myth that the Kennedys stood up for womens rights. Joe said Eunice would have made a great politican if only she had some balls. The men for their part all were notorious adulters, banging movie stars, campagin workers, prostitutes, and pretty much any half way decent looking girl kind enough to spread her legs to them. While this doesn’t necissarily disqualify from being a feminist the way the Kennedys treated the partners in their sexcapades does.

Marylin had the privledge of being dumped by not one but two Kennedy’s.  Yes, they shared their women. Both Bobby and Jack cut of ties with the Marylin by having her private line cut from their offices with-out telling her. She called them only to recieve a message that the line had been disconnected. After that she was stonewalled by the secretarys. President JFK warned female visiters that “…the Ambassador likes to Prowl…” after whitnessing his father opening his robe on a young female visitor and waking her by saying, “this will be something your never going to forget.” Johnny Boy though had learned early how to treat women, when he caught his Dad boning some young puntang on their yacht. He was so startled he jumped overboard. Clearly he wasn’t too horrified as he was fond of taking a nude swim with his secrataries “fiddle” and “faddle.” One person said he used to order up prostitutes like most poeple order a sandwich.

The second myth is that they are some liberal demigods who after all the philandering they still were out for the people. The Kennedy’s were natorious cheapskates. Ambassador Joe used furs and jewels to seduce a movie star working for his film company and later charging the items to her company account. He even made her pay for her trailer. Kennedy help was paid minimum wage and were often borrowed from by the family. President Kennedy used to borrow money from his friend every week from his friend for the collection plate. He rarely paid it back. This was when he was president. 

When the Ambassador was asked by a eeger young campaign worker what dreams he had for America that his son would fulfill he laughed in his face.  His plan was complete. The only reason the Kennedy’s wanted to the Presidency was to rest their slutty taints on the seat of power. They just wanted to bone models and pop bottles, to have it their way or to make ‘em pay, get gorey to get the glory ect.    

The myth that they are were a happy family is perhaps most hilarious. Ambassador Joe (FYI: he bought his ambassadorship from FDR), had plans for his children. Joe and Roses ambitions and vanity had more casualties than those taken by an assassin’s bullet.  Rosemary who wasn’t content to be a political pawn and perhaps neglected. had “emotional problems” which included sneaking out an wandering around at 2 a.m. Eventually Joe had her lobotomized. In his defense, lobotomies were all the rage back then. Needless to say Rosemary was a vegetable the rest of her life. She was locked away in an institution rarely visited by anyone but one of her sisters. The press of course was lied to about this. It was implied she was a nun or some other bullshit.

After John F. Kennedy’s highly exagerated exploits on the south pacific during WWII, were turned into national headlines by Joe and his magic media machine, Joe Jr., the eldest s0n who was used to being incharge, decided he to was destined for military glory. After completing two dangerous bombing tours, he voulounteered for a risky mission taking out the Buzz Bombs hitting london at the time. His plane malfunction and he died. This is perhaps a good thing as he was probably the most entitled and ruthless of the Kennedy children.

When it was Teddy’s turn to sacfafice himself on the altar of power, he simply became widley alcoholic. His atrocious behavior finally resulted in him drowing and campaign cutie and not reporting it for eight hours ensuring her demise. His presidential hopes were dashed, yet some how he remained senator till death.

Anyways these were just some highlights of the thorough thrashing Nellie Bly gives of the most stupendous and horrendous myths to affict the American Politity. Anyways the moral of the story is not to fall for the Party line and never to vote for the same person twice thus ending the circle jerk of voting for bank rolled cowards. Remember voting for a Republican or Democrat or anyother professional politician is throwing your vote away. Be warned though morals didn’t get the Kennedy’s Jack shit. No he won the prize the old fasion way, ruthlessness, hypocrisy, and a good dose of intimidation.

Seriously, though the shit has hit the proverbial fan. Pehaps I’ve been drinking myself back to modernity to hard as post apocalyptic science fiction movies are beginning to take on a new and frightening dimension of reality. Oil leaks, that people keep calling a spill (a spill is a one time expulsion of a finite amount of liquid; a leak is the letting of a ongoing stream of liquid which if unattended will continue into perpetuity) are turning the gulf of Mexico into a toxic lagoon.  Out of which, the swamp thing will someday emerge. Its not funny though, and not simply for the poor quality joke. The reality is BP is using a toxic chemical to disperse the oil. So if you plan to go to the beach in Forida anytime in the next few or… years, you’ll get the chance to swim in crude oil and poisonous dispersant.

The dispersant doesn’t actually break down the oil into anything else, it just spreads it out. That way all the crude and dispercent will coat you evenly in a cancerous toxic bath. The last step is a nuclear emergency in the gulf and we’ll have a legit zombie bath on our hands. Wild life will turn into mutant zombie life forms and spread the mutanous zobie disease that so many comic books and movies predicted.  Yeah, if I lived on the gulf coast I would run to the mountains. Get to the highlands before the inevitable nuclear “incident” creates a tidal wave of zombipathiocancertitus.

On second thought… The mountains might not offer the same protection they once had, since many have been blown to bits. I suppose as long as we don’t blow up all the mountains and posion all the oceans, we  can still sit at home not enjoying them just the same whilst whatching too much T.V. That way will still have the un-exercised option to get off our fat asses and do something that doesn’t involve buying something or being tempted to buy something.

Anyways, I’m writing a letter to some editors about what I think should be done to those responsible for ruining the gulf of mexico so they could make a quick killing.  I’ll put an extended version up when it is done and the papers haven’t published it.

Indeed though much more shit, hath passed.  Here is quick recap. Close to my locale a Chicago area man shot a boy because the boy’s dog shat in his yard while two State reps from illinios called for the national gaurd to deal with violence. A bit further away the mind bending masters of the economy at Goldman got called to congress for a national bitch-out. Luckily the geeks at Goldman were well tutored by their attorneys. While the Senate was too spineless, well paid, or clueless to really cue into the parts of the argument that could have landed some execs in Sing Sing for a date with some of the meaner boys from Harlem. That way the Fabulous Fab and friends can keep ruining the economies of the world.

Here’s a clue for the brilliant minds who managed to kiss enough butt to get to the running joke we call congress: when bankers say they are paying special attention to liquidity, it means they are paying attention to how quick they can off load their miracle elixir securities laced with iodine to widows and orphans. It means they are not concerned with the actual value of the securities. Therefore selling said securities under the pretext of real or underlying value is at the least scum-baggery and at best felonious.

Out West,  the state of Arizona wants to check your papers or throw you in jail. We could conceivably trick the type of gentleman who likes ruining our economoy and envioroments with some sort of trip to the only remaining oil-free vacation coast in the mainland United States.  Once california legalizes the ganja in November, the stoners of the Golden State can just take it upons themselves to prey on the unsespecting corprate leaches.  Once Medicino county becomes the Napa Valley of cannabis all the elites will look to the newly legal means of intoxication as a status symbol. Once these light weights get baked beyond composure, the hippies of Humboldt can get vengeance for all of us by stealing their I.D. and then taking them against their will to Arizona for imigrant bounty. I don’t think immigrant bounty part of the law just yet, but I’m sure its only a matter of time . Then we can lock these tie toting pricks up in the pen for spilling toxins into our our oceans and financial systems (well technically we’d be locking them up for being foreign, but it’s the locked up part that matters).

On the world stage revolutionary acts are being perpetrated all over the place with out racist laws to take advantage of. Some very pissed of K rygs, Thai, and Greeks all rose up in acts of defiance of their governments this spring. The Krygs kicked their government out. The Thai kicked a significant dent in the GDP, by shutting down the heart of Bankok for six weeks.  While the Greeks burned down a bunch of shit. People died in all of these clashes, though the only deaths the media seems that sympathetic about are the late bank workers in Greece. There is a lesson to be learned here though: work is less important than crossing a general strikes picket line. Anyways I suppose the main stream mediagarchy doesn’t give two shits about the violence in Kyrgyzstan and Thailand because they can’t clearly blame the rebels for the violence and, well central and southeast Asians rebels aren’t quite white enough to be given the full human treatment reserved for pussy bank workers who should be out in the streets. Anyways its a great time to travel to these countries if you like cheap hotel bills or throwing rocks at cops.

That is my Triumphant (err fairly routine) return and recap of the craziness occurring everywhere. Hopefully, from this point onward I’ll be posting thrice weekly. If I don’t live up to this, there is absolutely nothing you can do about it. Unless… you click on the donate button a few times. Then you can threaten not to anymore. So give me some cash so I can rationalize ignoring others and laying down on the job to blabber on this blog.

That is the ironic thing about love. Something that is supposed to be unselfish devotion is rooted in the desire to have that one person who can’t live without us.  Which of course is bullshit. If a piano were to drop on you’re main squeeze’s head and squash them to death of course you could go on living. It would be hard, but you’d survive. Although there are some instances where people are motivated enough to end their own life after they lose their lover, they are generally the exception that proves the rule. While I don’t like to jump to conclusions, unless of course if we are playing the Office Space inspired board game, I generally characterize  suicides, no matter what the circumstances, as completely irrational bordering on bat-shit-crazy.  Of course I am being cold and cynical, but that is what I do here.

The most epic tech-innovation for judging someones level of dissatisfaction with the holiday is facebook. While I’m sure people have posted even more pathetic things on myspace, I don’t cut myself to relieve stress and  have only thought about dying my hair jet black in passing. So I stick to facebook.  Everyone seems to have a witty or not so witty Valentines Day facebook status.  “Happy Valentines Day <3 ” is a stock status for single girls. As far as I can tell this means, “please, someone, anyone wish me a happy Valentines and make a pass at me.” Straight up cynics might go with the “Happy Anna Howard Shaw Day” following Liz Lemon’s example from 30 Rock who chooses to honor the first wave feminist born on the 14th rather than capitulate to Hallmark’s schemes.  Others summed up their view on Valentines days by saying that it is “overrated.”  Thus proving they don’t really care that no one is giving them flowers. Though by far the most pathetic Valentines Day status I ran acrross was a video montage dedicated to “a friend.” This video reportedly took four hours to make and involved plenty of dorm room dancing antics. While I’m glad to say no video footage of myself engaging in such behavior exists, if it didn’t I would be pretty with whoever put it on the internet. If this magnanimous waste of time isn’t a proof of loneliness and heart-ache I don’t know what is. The saddest part is seems to try to portray the author as happy and fulfilled socially by showing how good of friends they have.  This going above and beyond to prove how stable and secure you are with your current social arrangement is the most disturbing part of what this holiday does to the single.

However, I suppose there is a brighter side of love. Its nice when people can find someone they are truly happy with and have a beautiful and harmonious relationship. However, let it be stated that I don’t want to be anywhere near these freaks. While the couple that is always at each others throats is not the most fun to be around, I would hangout with them any day over the couple so in love that it’s stomach churning. At least with the constantly fighting couple you can pick sides, switch sides, and add to the general dysphoria. In the opposite situation there is no room to coexist. You can join in on their embarrassing baby talk, but they won’t like it. Take it from me they might even think you are mocking them and their foolish belief that they are “perfect” for one another. You can also take it from me that after they get done kissing, yelling “my turn” and trying to pounce on which ever one is of interest will not be received cordially. No, when around people who really believe they’ve found “the one”  the only thing to do is sit there and be angry at the world that you’re all alone in.  Fortunately in a few months they will start to get sick of one another and begin to bicker and fight like all couples in a healthy relationship.

The important thing for the single is to keep taking risks. If there are no risks there is no reward. The great thing about the economics of romance is you only invest shreds of your dignity at a time, and even if you lose it you’re not much worse off.  If the romantic gambit fails then you end up stuffing your face alone, pretty much what you would have been doing any ways.  (Exactly what I am about to do right now.) Your dignity only stays broken until you forget the embarrassing episode, and you are no worse off for trying.

Amidst the candy, flowers, and bitterness there are some brave souls out there reminding us that love isn’t just a game, it’s a contest.  Like Jeff Ondash a “speed hugger” complete with fire retardant suit in case the hugging gets out off control, who set the world record for the most hugs in twenty-four hours. The man hugged 7777 people outside a casino in Vegas.  He is quite the hug-slut.  But leave it to those hot blooded Latino peoples though one up Teddy McHuggin’s exploits.  Mexico City set the world record for biggest make-out party yesterday. 40,000 people gathered in the town center to kiss their loved one with 19,998 other couples.

Luckily the media has picked up on these interesting stories so we won’t be distracted with newsworthy stories like how many people NATO killed with its rocket attack  this weekend or what Iran will do when it finally gets the bomb.  Then we’d all really feel lonely.

It is true the allure of instant gratification has spread to our kitchens to our communications. Twitter and text messaging is the informational equivalent of frozen food and the microwave. Papers like the free Red Eye here in Chicago boil down the news to ultra short-form journalism. They “nuggetize it.” Doesn’t matter if its chicken or media, process the shit out of it and they will swallow it whole. What used to take a full paragraph now takes a sentence-and-a-half.  Now sure all you old-timers can wine about the deteriorating effects of our watered down correspondences, I do all the time, but what about the possible positive aspects? I think laconic discourse can be good or bad, but either way its inevitable.

In an information age there is too much damn information! How else is my generation supposed to deal with the massive amounts of info available for us. Sure thanks to deregulation of the telecoms sector in the nineties mass media is dominated by ten companies.  That’s why mass media sucks, but the Internet changed the game.  Wikipedia alone has claimed months of my life. We need something to strain that information so we don’t go absolutely crazy. We are all half-crazy. In the post-post-modern age if you don’t agree you’re little crazy, you need to be locked up. Because trust me you are crazy and potentially dangerous.  Know anyone who thinks they have it all under control? Run. Run before you see just how in control they think they are.

I admit, the increasing appeal of brevity of the information age has spawned the nefarious  institution of  internet speak.  Thankfully I think this blog is a little to high-brow to get an “OMG! Lolz ur blog like  ToTaLlY made me LMFAO!!!! : O” comments. This is bad brevity. However, brevity is not always a sign of stupidity. In fact according to Shakespeare, a man who knew a thing or two about tying words together, “Brevity is the soul of wit.” That’s right. It isn’t just your imagination old-timers. We are a bunch of smart asses who like to back talk.  We just can’t get enough of ourselves. This isn’t such a bad thing once you think about how many problems could have been avoided if more people talked back.

2006 Wall Steet: “Just rate those mortgage backed securities A double plus plus. We need that Hedge Fund’s buissiness!”

1973 Ford Headquarters: “Screw recalling the death trap, just hire some more lawyers its gonna be cheaper to go to court.”

1955 Phillip Morris Head Quarters: “Just bury those files we have about cigarettes causing cancer”

1940 Berlin: “So here is my final solution… ”

On and on into the annals of prehistory, if only there were more smart asses perhaps there would be less suffering.

I’m not saying that my generation’s knack for being short has translated into an automatic vehicle for questioning authority. It might have just translated into us telling all of our “followers” how delicious that pancake breakfast was via mobile phone, but nonetheless perhaps it makes us more apt to think twice. How many times have you sweated over a text, analyzing every word, making sure it hits that special person just right? That is the way I know how much I like a girl. Anything over ten minutes per message and it might be love.

Anyways before Generation Y staked out a monopoly on brevity another group of people did it better.  The great Rulers of Lakonia, the Spartans set a high standard for brevity (yes, that is why laconic is a synonym for brief). In Ancient Sparta talk was not cheap.  These people prided themselves on being hard. An ancient Spartan would have the baddest thugs on the South Side shaking in their Timberlands.  These were people who purposely didn’t feed their children enough so they would have to steal. If they got caught though they would be flogged. This so they would be good at stealing. Being that tough they didn’t need much communication. They didn’t need to be asked if they had a good day or how they were feeling. If they were going to debase themselves with such an emotional need as conversations well it damn well better be short. It implies clarity, certitude, and strength.  It is no surprise good writing has short sentences. Short sentences punch.

So great and ballsy were the Spartan when it came to brief etiquette they gave us a lines that still managed to be the best writing in a modern full length feature. “Then we will fight in the shade” responded Leonidas to Xerxes’ messengers when threatened that Persian’s arrows would block out the sun.   There are many other great Spartan sayings. When asked why they didn’t have an occupation, a spartan replied “[...]Our aim is that, unlike you, we shouldn’t be concerned with every random pastime.” While I’d like to think they were a leisurely people who appreciated the little things, it might have also had something to do with the ten slaves to every one Spartan.  The sayings of Spartan women are perhaps some of the best and meanest coldest.  Upon hearing her son died in battle a lady of Spartan replied, “Bury him, and let his brother take his place.” There were no Cindy Sheehans in Sparta.

Aside from the militancy and slaving, the Spartans are a group my generation could learn from. They were all dedicated to their community. They feared neither enemies or death and they didn’t wake up to be self-conscious ninnies.  The only problem with today is enemies and allies are so intermingled and convoluted it can be hard to know who to bring the fight to and who to fight beside.  Once you do figure out who you it is you should fight though please don’t be left with only “WTF-ur a lil bech.  not FML , FYL fer realz.” Read up on the Spartans and other sources of wit so you can represent generation Y or you respective generation, with brevity and intelligence.  You might also consider consulting a dictionary so you don’t spell like a dyslexic.

* I say old-timers because for these people because there are no such things as grown-ups. People don’t grow up. They simply grow old.

#3 Diabetes

I understand we have a diabetes is nearly an epidemic in this country and in many others. However, when half the world is starving I have a hard time donating money so that the other half can continue to eat all the food without getting the health problems that goes along with it.

To be clear Type I diabetics I have sympathy for. It sucks you got the short straw when the G-man was handing out genetics. Sorry that you have to constantly check your blood sugar and inject insulin in your arm or risk death.

On the other hand, type II or “acquired diabetes” comes from a life time of eating junk food. For Type II diabetics I have no sympathy. After thirty some odd years of a high-fuctose corn syrup and fat based diet you expect me to give you money to find a cure? I’ll give you a cure. Set down the Mt. Dew and Corn Chips and go for a jog.  Try eating some vegetables fat-ass. If my penchant for frozen pizza and fast food fair lands me in hospital someday so be it. A man is only meant to eat so many pizza rolls after a certain point edible food like substances have their revenge.  Make no mistake that fatty salty snack is getting you high and that endorphin rush comes with some negative effects. Namely increased risk of stroke, diabetes, hypertension, heart-disease, and obesity.

#2 Abortion

Political science professors love to bring up Abortion. They like this topic because it gets people hot under the collar.  Nothing stirs debate like accusations of sexism and baby-killing. Personally I find this topic boring. People have been aborting their babies for thousands of years. In fact abortion predates Christianity. So what in Hell makes people think they can stop people from getting abortions?

When abortion was illegal women still aborted pregnancies. In Chicago women started the Jane Collective. A group created so that women wouldn’t have to trust profiteering amateurs who didn’t care about the safety of the procedure.  Just like drugs, because there is a demand, abortion can be prohibited, but not eradicated. The only difference is now  Suzy Skipped-a-Pill is going to risk getting her loins torn out because she doesn’t want to spend the rest of her life tending to result of one too many mojitos and a vow not to end up at home watching Carrie and Samantha’s quest to find the perfect pair of heels. The heels that will make everything better.

Yet year after year pro-lifers march on. The pious hordes descend on Washington D.C. once a year for a pro-life march. This huge demo draws tens of thousands of people deluded enough to think they can dictate to 300 million people what and what not to do with their genitals, the greater half of which are  too scared to touch their own genitals for fear of blindness.

Hilariously enough a  pro-life stance is widely recognized as a “conservative” political belief. The conservatism that is pro-war and anti-social spending. So fetuses shouldn’t be harmed ever but once born they shall receive no Medicaid, no food stamps, and no welfare. If you are a child born in another country it is much worse. Conservatives will either exploit your labor or bomb you.  It would almost be better to be dead. unfortunately that isn’t a bad joke. Many people in war-torn countries actually feel that way. It doesn’t take watching too many documentaries about Afghanistan or the Congo to find some-one wishing they hadn’t been born.  If you need further convincing that this issue is moot, consult George Carlin.

#1 Cancer

Unless you have lost a parent, sibling, or child you really have no room to bitch at me for this. I’ve lost three Grandparents to cancer. However, you still won’t find me on any cancer walks. No issue is so safe and ego-centric as cancer.  Taking a stand against cancer is up there with not liking war, not actually taking stand for peace. Not protesting in the streets or writing your congressman. That would demand courage to disagree. I mean Just saying that war is an unfortunate and ugly thing.

No one likes cancer. However, we live in a carcinogenic society. If it isn’t the cigarettes chemically engineered to keep smokers hooked then its the genetically modified string beans. If it isn’t the genetically modified string beans well it might be all that weed-killer and pesticides.  If the weed-killer and pesticides don’t do the trick just go hang out under some power lines.

Most cancers kill old people. We are so self-centered that instead of making sure others have access to clean water so infants won’t have to die from diarrhea, we’d rather make sure we can live another twenty-five years past God intended. After we eat our genetically engineered fried chicken and choke down another pack of Camels for sixty years we still want more.  Meanwhile kids aren’t making it past their first year due to diseases that are generally considered, in this country, not life threatening.

These business plans shed light on the quest for profits in the overdeveloped western economy.  Burger King is exploiting its relatively successful youthful advertising campaign. In its attempt to be the edgy fast food place of choice adding booze to the menu only makes sense. The only problem is to ask whether the novelty of a fast food bar is enough to draw customers regularly to the new restaurants.  The problem the King faces is that we have too much damn fast food places in the first place. The market is saturated so the branding and delivery needs to be unique. Burger Kings attempt to differentiate itself is no surprise considering the abundance of cheap burgers and french fries.  It will be interesting to see if the Whopper Bar catches on, or if it can’t compete with other cheap food and drink fair.

The struggling air-line industry is also facing a profit squeeze apparent from all sorts of different charges for things once included with air-fare. Soon I’ll be mistaking flight attendants for some good fellas. Extra peanuts- fuck you pay me. Check your bags- fuck you pay me.  Your ass is too fat too sit in the seat?  That’s right, fuck you pay me. However, if you have ever spent more than twenty minutes sitting next to a corpulent frequent flier, you probably don’t mind this development in the aviation businessmen.

However, most revealing is this bed-warming service.  Most developed economies are in the final transitions from an industry based economy to a service based economy.  I’m surprised this scheme hasn’t been tried before.  I love it when I grab that warm seat on the subway after the harrowing wait out in the cold.  The warm seat phenomenon indeed has led to way more than the “seat-back” game. Fifty years ago who would have thought that there would be a feature in cars commonly refereed to as butt-warmers.  It will be interesting to see how this scheme plays out.  I bet other hotels will follow suit but with electric blankets, as opposed to human heaters.  Though the human-heaters are good for the unemployment rate, electric blankets are better for business.  You don’t have to pay electric blankets.

So what have we learned from all this? If you want to really help the economy go stuff yourself  at Burger King. You may have to get drunk first, the food isn’t that good.  Once you’re fat enough, buy two tickets to London and then pay some one to warm up your bed for you.

Ironically some wars are declared by the proponents of the cause being warred on. The war on Christmas for instance seems to have been declared by Fox News. Though they seem to be defending Christmas, no other news services is as devout in their coverage of “militant gay radicals” or the secular ivory towers disrespect for Christmas or the Christian religion. I’ve yet to meet a militant gay radical. I don’t think I would even know they exist if it wasn’t for Fox News. But thanks to their fair and balanced coverage I’m well informed of the problem. Anytime I find myself in boys town here in Chicago I’m on the look out for dudes on roller skates sporting pink AK-47′s and lavender ski masks. I ease drop on every conversation, keenly listening for anyone talking about how  “that Marc Jacobs edition platinum plated RPG-launcher is absolutely to die for!” You can also spot militant gay radicals  using the Fox News Gay-Dar verification system. For five easy payments of fifty dollars, the G.D.V.S. will tell you if your co-worker who seems just a tad effeminate is a God-hating homosexual fascist destroying the institution of the family before its too late. Bill and the gang all swear by it. If only Fox News could tell me how to get rid of these damn baptist ministers who keep trying to get me to go to church.

The war on drugs is another straight forward sounding affair that can quickly turn complicated upon logical examination. Drugs fuck people up. So lets make drugs illegal. Not all drugs though. Certain drugs we need. For example coffee. No other drug is more central to our way of life. How traders be expected to get all jacked up in the morning and trade away our tax dollars and pension funds if it wasn’t for coffee.  That I understand. But some of the other drugs well I just don’t understand what makes some legal and others illegal.

The classic example is pot and alcohol. Both can get rather smelly. Both can have a dulling effect on the intellect. Alcohol, the legal one, makes people violent and extroverted. While Marijuana, the illegal one, makes people docile and introverted. Hmm? Now what kind of tricky piece of mental gymnastics did our politicians come up to rationalized this. We don’t mind people’s drunken debauchery, promiscuous sex, and bar-fights but them having some quiet time to think spent curled up with a bag of Doritos is a threat to our way of life? It’s almost as if they are looking for an excuse to lock people up. If I like to drink well odds are I like to get rowdy and it’s only a matter of time until I get too rowdy. Then the Police can taser me and haul me off to jail.  If I don’t want to go out and get crazy but prefer to stay home and puff the magic dragon, well I’m still a criminal. It seems if I want to dull my mind in any other way besides television I will end up a criminal.

Its strange too the legal drugs are by far the deadliest. According to drugwarfacts.org, Tobacco kills an estimated 435,000 people each year. Alcohol kills 85,000 a year.  Proscription drugs altercations claim 32,000 per year.  Illicit drug use kill only an estimated 17,000 per year. Compared to the handsome gentlemen in the suit explaining the third quarters earnings report for Phillip Morris, Anheuser-Bush, or Pfizer, crack-dealers are pwayful widdle puddy tats. Just don’t tell O.G. down on the corner that, he might feel inclined to convince you otherwise. As long as were talking about what kills Americans an estimated 365,000 Americans die each year from eating to much bacon and sitting on their asses watching TV. Have you talked to your children about the dangers TV and high-fructose corn syrup?

So as far as I can see the war on drugs tries to take most of the really fun drugs away from us so we make into work on Monday and slam some more Folgers. The Government instead lets us have all the cigarettes, alcohol, and shitty food we want, so we die young and don’t clog up the social security system for long. We have to think about our children and their future after all.

The war on terror like the war on drugs starts as a war on a concept but ends as a war on people, two wars to be precise. Our little terrorist problem originates in of our domineering and hypocritical foreign policy, dire economic straits abroad, and the absolution religious extremism offers. This is a very complicated set of issues such that a proper response to would include addressing its root causes, but fuck that. If you thought we’d actually do that, then you haven’t known America for very long. Better intelligence, more equitable foreign policy, and demanding a healthy dose of secularism in from our friends in the middle east would be a great steps towards stopping terrorist attacks. That would mean standing  up to the Saudis for being theocratic despots and demonizing us as they make money hand over fist selling us oil. That would also mean holding Israel accountable  for dropping phosphorus bombs on Palestinians. Considering the World Bank is funding the wall in Israel and the cozy relationship between Dubai and the Bush family, my hopes are about as likely as Bill O’rielly saying something insightful. No instead of a fighting terror by taking steps to repair the situation in the middle east, we’re fighting with terror with terror. That’s right, “we will put a boot in your ass it’s the American way!” just as soon as we’ve finished reaming it.

Dropping bombs on the Arab peoples will surely make them love freedom and see the U.S. isn’t a threat their way of life. Plus we deposed Saddam that despot that we only supported for a few short years when he went to war with Iran.  Also we uprooted the Taliban, who we only supported and trained for a few short years when they were at war with Russia. We replaced the Taliban with Karzai, who was a U.S. supported mujaheddin and has ties to the opium trade. So that he could replace the Taliban’s theocratic tyranny with his brand of theocratic tyranny-now with 30% less tyranny! Freedom is on the March.

Indeed these freedom-haters must pay. Since they don’t belong to a state group and don’t wear uniforms, we don’t have to worry about their human rights or dignity Any people that tries to fight a superior power and doesn’t clearly label themselves doesn’t deserve human rights.  Such group is a bunch of cowards, unlike the men and women who serve in our military. They are all heroes. Some of their courage we regularly forget to mention, like the men flying predator drones on unmanned bombing missions or the AC-130 gunner who blasts the evil-doers below through infrared cameras with 20 mm, 40mm, or 105mm rounds. Those pussies on the other side have to resort to home made road-side bombs and suicide bombers. What girlie-men they are taking on our military with their cheap tactics. Think about it. Our soldiers are clearly uniformed. In their army fatigues, armor plated hummers, and tanks, they mind as well be wearing bright red coats.  These insurgents take pot shots from behind cover in the towns they have grown up it, while our men patrol the foreign streets in formation. It’s down right unconscionable. Next thing you know those lousy freedom-haters are going to raid a ship and throw American goods into the Persian gulf.

Oh well, we’re at war. I guess there is nothing we can do when your at war. In war nothing makes sense. Fortunately all we have to do is destroy our enemies. Luckily there is no need to think in. Only a need to march. We’ll just have to put our head down  and stay the course.

Greenhouse Gasses

Even if you buy the global warming thing, I bet you still believe in acid rain. You don’t see the Weekly Standard or Fox News debating that Mexico City has a smog problem. Though I don’t want to have to pay Al Gore a penny for every square decimeter of my carbon foot print, I am still mindful of the effects vehicle emissions have on my environment. Perhaps living in the south loop in Chicago for a semester has increased my awareness of exhaust pipes. I remember waking up, excited to start a new day. I was singing in the shower, whistling in the halls, smiling while I drink my morning coffee. Then I walked outside to take a deep breath of a new day’s fresh air, only to choke on the exhaust of a semi trucks and taxi cabs on State St. Though I am only one less car on the road, no one is gagging so that I can get around.

Self Reliance

Thanks to my bicycle I’m not dependent on Mr. Bush or Mr. Cheney to get around. When I need to get some where neither Chevron Exxon, British Petroleum, nor the House of Saud gets involved.  I move. They don’t move me. There is no need for wind turbines or electric motors. We are the original green energy. Of course there are questions about how the global food supply chain is moving to me so I can move my bike, but let’s not get into that.  In modernity self reliance is more of a fallacy that achievable goal. It’s hard to remember when you couldn’t buy just about anything pre-cooked, frozen, and waiting for the microwave. Not to mention the mass exploitation that provides us with this junk we don’t need so that we can spend all our money on it and be unhappy with it. Keep in mind that while assembling the confusing pre manufactured dresser you bought from Ikea might make you feel like you accomplished something that doesn’t count as self reliance. While it is impossible to be completely self sufficient, riding a bike brings you a little bit closer to a near impossible goal.

Health

The U.S.A. is the fattest nation on earth. Ours is the only nation on earth to have a problem of too much food. Other nation’s should offer to send us their hungry to come over here to and snatch the last riblet off  Uncle Harold’s  plate before he has his third triple bi-pass. The dollars in healthcare savings over the long run by taking on the starving masses of the globe could total in the billions. Or we could just all exercise more and eat less crap. Riding a bike leads to both. At first you get some exercise. Then you lose a little weight. Then you notice when you eat right biking is more fun because you have more sustained energy. Then one day you wake up and you’ve ceased to be the overindulgent, lazy, stereo type of an American you once were.

Excuse for looking like a Nerd

Remember back when you thought wrapped sunglasses were cool. Deep down inside, you still kind of do. Here is your excuse to bust out the lamest pair of super sleek looking glasses you can find. No one will call you Zulu as long as you’re riding a bike. But the fun doesn’t end there. Skinny jeans, shirts you thought were too small, and flood pants are all geeky trends you can blame on your cycling habit. Not to mention how chic cycling shoes are. Nothing says trendsetter like the click-clack of carbon soled shoes with pedal cleats. When night falls the rules are really off. Neon reflective clothing and headlamps are both fine. That is right you don’t have to be camping or spelunking to where a flash light on your forehead. You can also rock that hot-pink vinyl pleasure suit with sequins you bought when you were just way, way too drunk.

To look Death in the Eye

Modern day Americans are cowards. Paranoia is practically the national pastime. Street gangs, Al Queda, the boss at work, looking fat, drug dealers, anthrax, identity theft, cancer, school shootings, the stock market, the government, the Chinese; is there anything we aren’t scared of?  The pilgrims were worried about making it through the winter. Today were get nervous about changing our phone service provider. Our forefathers revolted against the British. Today politicians are scared to revolt against Wall Street.  Alexander Hamilton died in a duel! Let’s see George W. Bush get challenged to a duel and keep a clean pair of trousers. Beside anachronisms from our own history think of all the people today around the world that are forced to confront danger. While you are getting apprehensive about whether to go skim or soy in your latte, someone else is making a life or death decision.

Human kind wasn’t meant to be so timid. Humans are brilliant animals capable of terrible things. There is no reason to get apprehensive about next year’s property tax hikes. We live such safe lives within our SUV’s and homes only looking out through the distorted porthole named television. It’s no wonder we are scarred of the harmless. We’ve forgotten what real danger is. Biking will remind you. Nothing gets your heart pumping like riding the wrong way through traffic while busses, trucks, and cabs buzz past in the opposite direction at thirty miles per hour. If you’re so lucky, hitting the pavement will remind you of how delectably soft you are. By appreciating those moments of real danger, bullshit dangers all of a sudden seem far away and irrelevant. When you hear the word terror you think of the back wheels on a semi, not some dude strapping explosives to his groin that bystanders are going to end up beating to a pulp anyway.

Traffic

Motorists love to bitch about how cyclists slow them down. I’ve rode with many drivers who moan, grown, and wince upon coming behind a cyclist. They pass them in a huff only to get stopped at the next light. Then they pout about the cyclist running the light. If you are one of these motorists, note that if person wasn’t on a bike they’d be in a car. Instead of passing and then getting passed at the light you’d be behind them. There is a reason you don’t see bikes in gridlock traffic, they have nothing to do with it. Riding a bike through the city is like a running hot knife cliché through a vat of simile butter. Driving a car through the city is like trying to smash through the butter ocean with a sludge hammer. I brought a scalpel and you brought a wood chipper. Quit complaining. Let’s operate. Oh you’re stuck in traffic burning up gas at $3 gallon. Well I only have on thing to say “Ya’ should‘a rode a bike!”

Community

Cycling offers the opportunity for plenty of socializing. If you see someone sexy and you’re in a car and they are in a car there is no way to chat them up, but if you’re biking… oh yes. I believe “Bwah chica bwo waow,” is the phrase I’m looking for. Flirty opportunities abound. In a corporate gig? Competitive cycling is a great way to get in good with a boss. The type-A personalities who end up in management are drawn to competitive cycling because it’s so expensive and an at least some what macho activity you can do pretty much up until death. Corporate types trigger you gag reflex? There are plenty of counter culture riders out there too. Events like the Naked Bike Ride, which is a global “bare as you dare” phenomenon to promote clean transport and positive body image, are great opportunities to meet people who have fallen off the assembly line. You can also get your jollies off my screaming “Happy Friday!” at befuddled motorists with folks at Critical Mass, a ride done the last Friday of each month to promote biking in most cities. This brings me to my next point.

Bikes are Fun!

“Bikes are fun!” the semi-official rationale behind Critical Mass makes perfect sense and is a great reason to ride a bike. Has planning for your retirement, working 50 hours a week at a job you hate, or losing your home to foreclosure crushed your inner-child. Well you can un-crush the innocence and cheerfulness long trodden upon by hoping on a velo.  Just ride, ride, and ride until it feels like your problems are very far away. Don’t worry. You don’t actually have to ride far away. Your inner-child can’t tell that you’re going in circles.  We all remember those training wheels coming and the joy of leaning into the turn for the first time. If you haven’t been on a bike in a while you can experience it all over again. Go for a ride and see how fast you can go. Trust me, it never gets old, but it is always familiar. Yes, riding a bike again is just like… eh, never mind. Anyways, until next time, pump the pedals not the petrol.