Morning News Gets -20,602,543,107,498 Points

Every morning, I give myself plenty of time to wake up because I'm not a morning person. I am *technically* awake, but most of my higher brain functions are still fast asleep. In order to shock my system back to life, I make breakfast and catch the developing news stories of the day and updates of previous news stories. I used to be addicted to the Today Show, until I realized that it was nothing but drivel. I comforted myself by the fact that it wasn't news; I just wanted something to watch and other such excuses. It quickly became tiresome. However, I was consistently amazed how many feminine beauty products are rolled out each and every mother fucking day ("next up, how to look good for 'yer man!"). Shoot me. A few weeks ago, I could no longer stand the Today Show's pathetic attempts at "educating" me regarding issues like car safety, homemaking and other super important stuff. Knowing full well that a higher channel number on cable means better programming (more = greater than = better = duh), I searched CNN, MSNBC et al for meaningful news. Surely one of them would have something interesting to say about my world. Surely ONE of them must surely at least TRY to give me an ounce of developing news? Right? RIIIIIIIGGGHHHHTTT????

Naively anticipating something fresh, I turn each day to MSNBC. I was and am greeted at that time in the morning with the same situation: two pretty ladies with pretty voices who banter back and forth about the "worst weather in America for today" segment. I don't care about Duluth Minnesota. Strike one. The camera then pans to one of the pretties and she gets a super serious look on her face, like something super tragic had just happened. Her super duper serious face was intended not for the tasty news morsel that I had hoped for, rather, it was for the super serious Anna Nicole Smith trial. Again, to remind you, this monotany has continued for the past (at least) two weeks.

By way of her super serious voice, she briefly recounted the morning's super serious proceedings... but there hadn't been any proceedings. She noted that nothing had changed since the last proceedings, her speech highlited by a scrolling bar at the bottom which was giving opinion polls regarding these and other super important issues. In fact, the judge had called an hour recess, which was "almost over with" according to the pretty. It had 45 minutes to go, yet she kept insisting they'd have some breaking news ANY time now. Cleverly disguised as an impending super serious development, her desparate ploy to retain viewers wasn't fooling me. With nothing to say, they did what any good news network would do. Instead of going back to the studio, they had a "trial expert" in the Bahamas, on camera, waiting to tell us super serious information. Information like, how Dannilynn (Anna's daughter) is still there and is still there. She's still totally there which is like totally good. No babies stolen today. How Howard K. Stern is super pissed. How that other guy and the other one still want a paternity test. After ten minutes of this, I caught a glimpse of my face in the mirror. The absolute disgust welling inside my gut had made its way to my face, where my mouth was open, my eyes were throwing daggers at the screen and my forehead was crinkled with disbelief. Then after realizing that I had been waiting for ten minutes to have something else news-worthy happen, the disgust motivated me to change the channel. CNN was doing the same story. So was Fox. So was every other news channel; all waiting on some new piece of flesh from the Anna Nicole Smith trial, all circling like insaciable vultures. Studio to Bahamas to "experts" in New York to Bahamas and back to Studio again, I couldn't believe they could talk so long about the fact that there's nothing to talk about. Going back to MSNBC, confident that by then (15 minutes later), they must have switched topics, they were instead interviewing two trial-attorneys regarding the Smith case, who had super different points of view. I super lost interest.

For all those news companies who (don't) read my blog, I say this unto you in the words of my great-grandmother: Go fuck yourself. Okay maybe she didn't say that but she would have if she were watching the same news story. To my Anonymous Reporter friend: I don't know how you cope with this kind of bullshit. If THIS is what the well-funded, NATIONAL stations are broadcasting, I cannot even imagine the impulse to throw your hands in the air and say, "fuck it, dude". Your testicular fortitude must be great indeed.

The Saga Continues

I "autofilled" the Shuffle last night. No surprises; just more of the same perfect song selection. I only had to un-select one: a sound bite from Kill Bill. Truth be told, I could have left it in because I really like that movie. Perhaps I should have left it in...

Walking to the bus stop I was giddy at the perfect selection of songs playing from my headphones. Dave Matthews, some house music, Zero 7, and on and on. As I stepped onto the bus, Let it Be (by some band called the Beatles) was winding down the last few measures. I took my seat. Other passengers were doing a variety of things, from reading to people-watching to sleeping to listening to music on their own (inferior) MP3 player. Little did they know that their bus-riding routine was soon to be interrupted by me, laughing hysterically.

The Shuffle had a plan. As you will see in a moment, the Shuffle's powers are far greater than you could imagine. Knowing full well that I was amongst many other people, it needed to expand its influence. Having searched my brain for tasty brain juice, it also knew just how to accomplish this feat. It patiently waited with the next song.

"Mele kaliki maka is the thing to say..." burst from the headphones. In a flash, all I could think of was Cousin Eddie with that ridiculous smile waving from the diving board. Clark Griswald and his extended family living through a Christmas of epic proportions. "Bend over 'and I'll show ya". "I don't know Margot!" Mele kaliki maka is a wise way...The tiny smirk became a grin, an open mouth, a blast of laughter. I smacked my leg and immediately realized what had happened. I swear I could hear the Shuffle laughing.

As you probably know, I'm pretty shameless when it comes to laughing in public. I don't care if people can hear me, especially if I'm on the bus or in some other loud environment. The ultimate goal of the Shuffle was not to make me laugh out loud. I didn't realize it at first, but after answering the question, "is that one of the new ipod Shuffles?" several times, I was humbled by the Shuffle's awesome power. No less than five people near me asked about it, how many songs can it hold, gosh isn't it small but the clip is awesome, how many colors does it come in, and so on. Just like that, the Shuffle's influence over the masses grew. Those people were authentically impressed at its size and ability. I, of course, was gushing over its functionality and practical use. Its power will only grow with each passing day. It will devise further schemes to augment its influence. If this isn't proof enough, you're not paying attention.

And you thought I was being paranoid...

I'm Afraid; VERY Afraid

I'm afraid it will somehow know I'm writing this post. If I'm found out, the consequences will be unfathomable. I cannot speak against that which wields such terrible power. It can read my mind, anticipate my mood, even craft my thoughts to its will. I am speaking, oh god I don't know if I can say it.... of my ipod Shuffle.

I glance down to see if it has inched its way further up my collar. Tightly grasping my lapel, it threatens to squeeze the life from me if I question its authority. I quickly say a prayer of forgiveness; Forgiveness that I am directly disobeying the Apple and its heavenly firmament. But how could it unleash such a force unto the world? How are we to cope with such tiny, almost insignificant devices that threaten the very fabric of existence? I am already doomed, so I may as well use the last of my free conscious to question that which will soon have absolute control of my mind.

How does it know? How does it know how to perfectly fill its little memory with all the songs you NEED to hear that day? I've tried it two days in a row now. The first day, I was certain it would pick a few songs I didn't want to hear... but it didn't. The second day, I cockily snaped it into place, smug with the knowledge that, in no way, could it accomplish the same feat twice. Placing the Shuffle in its cradle, iTunes opens, thirsty for more of my brain juice. I can hear electronic cackling as the Shuffle and iTunes discuss which torture to inflict. Torture cleverly disguised as a perfect set of "random" songs that I am glad to hear. I swear I can make out tiny voices laughing at my ignorance. Of COURSE it could satisfy my needs two days in a row! Two days?! Try INFINITY MOTHERFUCKER!!! My palm almost slips off the mouse from the sweat. Timidly pressing the "Autofill", I watch in horror as the screen fills with the most perfect list of songs. It strays from those songs and genres with which I am vaguely familiar or have no interest in. It moves from song to song, each more frightening than the last. The clincher? I HAVEN'T UNSELECTED ANY SONG OR ALBUM FOR THE AUTOFILL. IT KNOWS!! IT JUST, FUCKING, HOLY HELL ON EARTH KNOWS!!!!!

As I begin to type this paragraph, Johnny Cash's "Ring of Fire" begins to play. It found me. Oh god, it knows my thoughts and it burns, burns BURNS!!! I have nowhere to go. If I turn it off, it will surely plot my demise. For the two people who still read my blog, never forget the way I was. As I slowly and tortuously morph into an automaton for Apple, know that I was once a free soul. Once, if only for a moment, I was free. I was... I was...

Plug

Valentine's day was very special. Robin always cooks an amazing, perfectly-prepared meal. Our affinity for Pinot Noir led us to decant a bottle of 2005 J.Albin from King Estate. We both knew a Pinot Gris would have paired better considering the dish, but we're not that snobby. Besides, it was an '05 J. Albin for god's sake. Rich, fruity and smooth, that wine was everything Oregon Pinots have over everyone else in the states. I got him a small card that was cute and naughty. He spoiled me and got me a new ipod shuffle.

They're now about 1/3 the size of a business card. They come in a variety of colors, mine is metallic blue. My previous ipod, the one that had been with Robin and I for a couple of years, was stolen at New Years. Some grimy bastard got their grimy hands on its love-worn surface. Robin even cared for it when it got a bad spot on the hard drive (see also: boo-boo for computers). He nursed it back to health so I could have my music. But one grimy swipe of a hand later and I was music-less. I wasn't about to commandeer Robin's fancy new hotness video ipod (not that he would let me anyway), so everyday I trudged to and from school, humming softly as tears filled my eyes. I'm no good at Prince.

Robin emerged from the office with something behind his back and I was fully expecting it to be something fun, but certainly not a new ipod. There's no way it could've been a new ipod. BUT IT WAS A NEW IPOD!!!!!! I squealed and gently pulled the shining plexiglass box from his hands, moved beyond words. He's so thoughtful. This was more than some dumb trinket. Robin knows how much I love my music and how much I missed having it when I needed a lift. He saved up in order to buy it for me and I know this because we're not exactly flush with cash (see also: I'm a broke college student).

So check it. I almost prefer my shuffle to the old ipod (G A S P!!!!). But seriously, we have so much goddam music that surfing through the ipod to get an album can be really time consuming. I mean, like it takes like 30 seconds or something. Le sigh. And what if you just want to hear one song? I'm one of those listeners who wants the mood constantly changing. I love that about the Shuffle. So the new Shuffles are incredible. Of course, they're cute as hell, can strongly grasp anything you wish to clip them to (except your kitty), and they have both shuffle and play-through modes. So, let's say I'm sitting at work right now and let's say I'm listening to my ipod. Hmmmmm. Don't like that song. Let's fast forward to the next one. Hmmmmm. That one's okay, but let's see what's next- BINGO!! That's EXACTLY what I wanted to hear!! The system works!!

I love surprises and you never know what you're gonna get with the Shuffle! Rock on, Apple. You have me by the proverbial balls and I couldn't be happier.

An Aging Body

Before I begin, I realize that at the ripe old age of 26, this post may sound a bit whiny. Many of the medical problems people "with age" feel have not even crossed my mind yet, though ten years away is a lot closer than it used to be.

About two weeks ago, I wasn't sleeping well. The first couple of nights I blamed it on anxiety over school and life, but then the third, fourth and fifth day passed. I went to bed and couldn't sleep. I wasn't anxious, I didn't have any more stress than usual, Robin and I were doing great, so what the hell? My body was speaking to me.

I bitched about it but I didn't become a broken wheel. Yes I was tired, yes I had tons of school work to finish and yes, I didn't carry over restful slumber from the night before. There are plenty of people who have far more on their plate than I, but they manage. Then last week, intense, restless dreams settled in. My body was speaking to me.

I would fall asleep only to have vivid, long-lasting dreams take control. They weren't nightmares in that I wasn't in a state of panic, but the dreams themselves were laden with stressful situations; a paper I didn't turn in led to a bad grade in the class, an appointment I was late for, a pile of work sitting next to me that kept growing. I would awake feeling absolutely exhausted. I felt like I hadn't slept at all, or at least, very little. My body was yelling at me.

Exercise. Basic, cardiovascular, muscular, overall exercise was what I needed. The stresses of my life are not going to go away anytime soon and up till now, I've coped fine with them. It was unnerving and confusing to have my body trying to tell me something I didn't want to hear. I've felt it growing for a long time - a once energetic and explosive body settling into a stagnant and corpulent state. I don't think I'm fat comparatively speaking, but I am for me. It's beyond vanity: my body needs me to work it out. I stopped making excuses and did Tae Bo yesterday. I pushed myself through it and worked hard just to keep up with an exercise that a year ago, I had no trouble completing.

I got fantastic sleep last night. The best sleep I've had in months. My body, in its own way, gave me a sincere thank you.

A Day of Joyous Celebration

My precious little brother has strengthened my faith in the human spirit!! Truly, for one to triumph over such evil, such devastation, such hot gay sex is truly something to rejoice!

Ted Haggart isn't gay!

After months of silence, after painstaking soul-searching on the part of his "panel", Ted is finally one of the normals again! He has been in my deepest thoughts as he went through such a painful and embarrassing moment of his life. It's too bad the Evangelicals aren't letting him return because think of what he could offer (other gay prostitutes)?!

Here is a man who underwent an intensive three weeks of counseling (THREE WHOLE WEEKS?! NO WAY!!) and has been reborn as a true heterosexual-to-the-max hunk of bible thumpin' GLORY! He is refocused friends, he truly is. Why, he and his wife are pursuing online masters degrees in psychology (through accredited online universities no less)! Because it would be hard to "heal in Colorado Springs right now" (a city spawned from hell if you ask me), Ted and Gayle will be moving elsewhere. Look out Missouri or Iowa, the Haggarts are probably headed your way! Open your church doors! Welcome them with trumpets and crack pipes! Hail the RETURN OF THE HAGGART!!

Thank goodness "the overseers" were there to help and guide our most precious Ted! He was just acting-out! He was just confused! Which of you hasn't been confused and thought you should pound the ass of a 40-something gay prostitute after smoking meth with him and then going home with more meth to smoke?! COME ON!! He's obviously only done it once because the committee has been searching and searching for OVER 90 DAYS and nobody has come forward! When was the last time you searched for something for over 90 days and didn't find it?? EXACTLY. Lord be praised!

I'm so excited Ted is going into a field where he can help others! To quote H.B. London, one of Haggart's panel members, "Many of us that go into the healing, helping professions do so out of some sort of dysfunction or traumatic event in our lives, and we want to do what we can to help other people avoid what we've gone through. He is certainly gifted and intelligent and has an intuitive side to him. And he has life experience. Those are good credentials." I'll bet Ted has a deep, penetrating interest in helping other middle aged men go through what he went through. Er, I mean NOT go through what he went through! Whoops!

Shout it from the rooftops! Pound the ass of your loved one in vivacious celebration! Ted is RID OF HIS HOMOSEXUALITY!!!

The Beauty of Existentialism

Existentialism has a bad rap for those who refuse to study it for what it is. If you have ever picked up Camus' "The Stranger" or Sartre's "Being and Nothingness", it is easy to conclude that an existentialist view is nothing more than the negation of the self in a world that refuses to give solid answers. It is far more difficult to understand what they are actually saying. The absurdity of existence and the elusive character of meaning are among the critiques people bring to existentialist thinking. They conclude that it has little or no place as meaning is all around us in abundance. You just have to live your life with what you've got, they say. Not only are they grossly incorrect concerning what existentialism tries to be, but their approach to life can be shown to be even more absurd, even more empty and even more unnecessary.

Simone de Beauvoir, among others, is whose thoughts I am directly drawing upon for this posting. I highly recommend her take on an existentialist ethics (The Ethics of Ambiguity) and the latest group of her philosophical writings, just translated in 2004 (Philosophical Writings) for anyone. A literary writer who refused to call herself a philosopher, her narrative is eloquent and perfectly stated. She may be ambiguous at times, but that only lends to her brilliance as an existentialist thinker.

Life is more bizarre than we would like to comprehend. Shrouded in the comforts of science and technology, our approach to knowledge has led us to exponential growth as a thinking creature. It has also left us standing further and further behind ourselves as an individual. The use of both science and technology is unquestioned and nor do I think it a bad move to continue studying that which we do not know. One hurricane later, one earthquake and all our inventions fall as easily as we do. Considering our place in the earth, we are remarkably frail for how much we have accomplished. We would like to say that reason has afforded us this ability and that we possess it much like we possess a car or hammer. The fact is, and science backs me up here, that we create meaning through our bodies. Our reason is not an extra-special part of our brains that activates when we need it to. On the contrary, reason is informed by our bodies in an immensely complex set of operations that neuroscience has just begun to scratch the surface of. I digress.

What breaks us first as individuals is the realization in adolescence that adults are not god-like. They are as infallible as we are and with our new found insight, we find ways to test those waters. Regardless of the fact that one comes from a "stable" home or not, children do not see their care-givers to be as human as they truly are. This is just how we are raised and, if you ask me, it's a fantastic coping mechanism for a quickly-developing brain. However, that all comes into question when we first face the absurdity of our existence, that adults are just people. So, what do we do now?

According to Beauvoir, and I totally agree, we find ways to cement ourselves. Through school, religion, work, friends among any number of options, we help ourselves settle in some sort of social identity. Again, this is not to call into question the emotional necessity of such an act. The adolescent is much like a new born baby. This time, their entrance into the world is through the gripping fact that they are surrounded by others who won't protect them and who won't have their best interests in mind and just what should I do anyway?

We are, each of us, free beings. I do not mean freedom in the sense that we can just do whatever we want to do. Our actions, though we profess them to be free, are undeniably bound to others and their freedom. To kill a person is to kill their body, it is not to take away their freedom. As the only thing we can never give away nor take from someone else, freedom exists as our core condition. We would not be human without it. The problem lies in the fact that we have projects and we need others to help complete them. By projects, I mean disclosing our being into the world such that we transcend ourselves and come to new and more amazing insights. For Beauvoir, freedom was not about thrusting yourself on others and trampling them in an attempt to realize your goals. Freedom is about sharing other's projects as they share theirs with you. It is about realizing our situation together and moving beyond, above, and transcending the ordinary.

Existentialism is not individualistic. It may begin that way, but it's intention is to unite humanity in such a way as never conceived before. It is also not blind to the fact that this project sounds almost impossible and certainly difficult. But that's the point - of course it's difficult. Of course you will have hardships as you wrestle with yourself and others as you try to express your freedom. We have refused to deal with the ambiguity of life because we refuse to take it on. Instead, we make values, religion, work, others, or whatever else our reason to be. At a most base level, as something everyone has and no one can rid themselves of, our shared freedom binds us, moves us and if realized, will sustain us.

An existentialist ethics searches meaning through actions more vivaciously and tenaciously than any other I have studied. Roll up your sleeves and get to work, for there are no easy answers. Even today, even tomorrow, even forever we will be realizing and transcending. Our paths may be unknown but if we share in this existence together and all begin from nothing, ours will be a more enlightened life than we could have ever accomplished alone.