It is a rare and delightful treat to begin a blog with the following line:
The sun was setting over West Hollywood while in an art gallery off Santa Monica Boulevard, I mingled and sipped a caipirinha.
Damn, that felt nice.
Anyways, yesterday/gallery/West Hollywood/caipirinha. I was talking to an intern at the gallery who was in his early- to mid-thirties and was at first taken aback by his openness and eagerness to bullshit with a complete stranger. I've been around the trendy artsy types before and typically don't get the time of day from them, at least not in Salem. But this guy was pouring out his life story to me just mere moments after he walked up and said, "How's it going, man?"
Dig this: He moved to Hollywood to be with his girlfriend who, at the time, was attending UCLA's school of design. He got into real estate and had a fair amount of success. But around the time he moved past the 30-year mark he started to feel that his life was unfulfilled and that he had this crushing urgency to validate his existence by immersing himself in the artistic community, even if it meant interning at an art gallery, helping sand and repaint the floor and walls in between ingoing and outgoing exhibits. And he was so happy. It was oozing from him.
I asked him what the hardest part of the transition was for him, in an attempt to try and relate with some of what I've been feeling lately. His answer was interesting. It had nothing to do with the material, practical things. He said, "Knowing who I am."
He went on to explain how a lot of people move here with overinflated egos and underdeveloped abilities, and are surprised when Opportunity simply neglects to fall out of the sky into their laps. Transversely, he explained how a lot of people move here with the intentions of following their dream but lack confidence to pursue their path and instead get caught up in a steady job, making the monthly payments, and just "getting by" and they end up in the same place they were in before they moved to LA, only in a more expensive and arguably intimidating environment.
I shared with him that one of my biggest difficulties in any aspect of my life, musically or otherwise, is that I am constantly battling between two inaccurate views of myself: the Alex who can do really well at anything he wants to, and the Alex who can't seem to do a damn thing right. On an intellectual level, I know that both of these are inaccurate. What's absolutely nuts about this is that a lot of the time I will find myself ping-ponging between these two poles at such a high frequency that it feels like they're happening simultaneously.
I think a lot of this has to do with the principle that says, "We become who we think everyone else thinks we are." I am constantly falling into and climbing out of this trap. One of the things that drives me crazy about myself is this chameleon-like persona that I assume in certain crowds. I can usually tell right away based on group dynamics if I need to be the funny-guy, the smart-guy, philosophical-guy, or the serious-guy.
When I'm with a group of people who I don't know that well, I will usually lock onto a persona and be stuck with it all night. Worst of all is when I simply don't know who I am within the context of a certain group, and I end up defaulting to nothing-guy. This persona retreats to the wall at a party or slumps into a recessed corner of a booth at a restaurant. My face becomes expressionless which unfortunately causes me to look like I'm upset or unhappy, and because I'm usually not upset or unhappy, this confusion only adds to the downward momentum of my mini-identity crisis.
This causes me to realize the value in the friendships I keep. I would rather be very close to a handful of friends than to be on casual terms with a couple dozen. I keep this handful close because I know who I am with them. I am not compelled to put on an act. I find peace and rest in the fact that neither my achievements nor my shortcomings will increase or decrease the respect or love that they have for me. In the same way, I find that there is nothing more fulfilling than being in a friendship where I can be that for someone else. To be a constant support, a safe refuge, where the other person knows that they do not have to earn my friendship nor do they have to fear losing it if/when they fuck up.
This has been one of the greatest realizations I've had over the last two months since everything came apart. I have been humbled and moved at the response of friends, some of whom I've known all my life, others only a short while, who were all kind enough to just be near me and let me near them. These friends are not overly concerned with talking about my failed marriage-- they don't want to know how it happened or what I need to do to fix it. They aren't preoccupied with getting me "back on the market" or hooking me up with a friend-of-a-friend if only for a one-night stand. The friends who have emerged lately are saints in that they are happy to just hang out. To just "be." Sometimes this is just sharing a meal, other times going to a concert. Currently I am enjoying the graciousness of Kent and Irene who opened the doors to their one-bedroom Los Angeles apartment by letting me sleep on their living room floor for a couple nights.
The hardest part of being down here on this exploratory trip is not worrying about where I will live or where I will work, whether I will have enough money or anything logistical. It's picturing me cut-and-pasted onto this strange, busy canvas, severed from the beautiful mosaic-- my support system, my community back home. If I were to leave everything and move down here tomorrow, it would be bearable; difficult but attainable. It would hurt when I tear the bandage off but at least the healing could begin. But the reality is it will take probably two years before I can make the transition, and by then I fear that my ties back home will be all the more inseparable.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Joo Mollre and the Mystery of the Missing Pants
It's been over a month and I still haven't got my pants back. Plus I think I might've given my credit card number to a complete stranger.
Here's the transcript of the conversation, originally published on my other blog in March.
---------
Operator: Thank you for calling the MGM Grand. Please select from the following options. For English--
Me: (typing) 1
Operator: For room reservations, press 1. For dining reservations, press 2. For show tickets, press 3. For business reservations, press 4. If you would like to hear these options again, press 9.
Me: (typing) 0
-silence-
Me: (typing) (cont'd) 0 0 0 0
Operator: For room reservations, pre-
Me: (typing) 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0
Human: MGM Grand, how may I direct your call?
Me: Hi, I left my pants in Vegas and I need to get them back.
Human: Mmhmm. One moment.
..
L&F Aylah, loss in fow.
Me: Hi, I left my pants in my room. Nothing weird or anything, just folded them up and put them in the closet, then forgot they were there.
L&F Day you lee them in ah kah-see-no?
Me: Err, no. In my closet, in my room. 14-313.
L&F: I goin nee your roo namba.
Me: 14-313.
L&F: Juan Momayng.
Me: Who? No, I'm Alex Moore.
L&F: I say escuse me for juan momayng. Okay I hava one Old Navy blue jean an one lay-thar belt.
Me: (trying to make a joke) That's funny, I think I have the same exact pair!
-silence-
Me: (continued) Ooookay so can I arrange to have them mailed to me?
L&F: Jessir we can shit they to you.
Me: (stifling laughter): Oh, you can? Huh-huh-huh, okay, I would like to arrange, huhhuhhuh, to have them, uh, shit to my house.
L&F: Okay I need your full nay and ah-dray.
Me: Joel Moore. 1147 Pol-
L&F: Thas spell J-O-E M-O-L-L-R-E?
Me: No, two 'O's.
L&F: J-O-O M-O
Me: No no no no, J-O-E-L M-O-O-R-E.
L&F: Ohhh so sorry. Ha ha. An adray?
Me: 1147 Pollyanne Ave SE. Salem, OR 97306.
L&F: Okay I hava 147 Tollan Elen Oregon. An what was the zeet code agay?
Me: Well the zip code was 97306, but let me give you the whole thing again. 1147 P-O-L-L-Y-A-N-N-E Avenue Salem Oregon 97306.
L&F: Ohh ha ha Pollyanna.
Me: No, Pollyanne. An "E" at the end.
L&F: Ohh ha ha Pollyanneeee.
Me: No, just Pollyanne. Silent E.
L&F: Okay and is Elen Oregon spelled E-L-E-N?
Me: No, it's S-A-L-E-M. "S" as in Sarsaparilla. Actually, "S" as in Steven.
L&F Ohhh yah I know Salem. Ooookay so we send Juan Cheen and Juan Lay-thar belt to Joo Mollre 1147 Tollan Habanu Elen Orygaw Ny-Sayba-Tree-Zeero-Seez. Thanyu for cally N-CHI-N and haba nayng day.
Here's the transcript of the conversation, originally published on my other blog in March.
---------
Operator: Thank you for calling the MGM Grand. Please select from the following options. For English--
Me: (typing) 1
Operator: For room reservations, press 1. For dining reservations, press 2. For show tickets, press 3. For business reservations, press 4. If you would like to hear these options again, press 9.
Me: (typing) 0
-silence-
Me: (typing) (cont'd) 0 0 0 0
Operator: For room reservations, pre-
Me: (typing) 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0
Human: MGM Grand, how may I direct your call?
Me: Hi, I left my pants in Vegas and I need to get them back.
Human: Mmhmm. One moment.
..
L&F Aylah, loss in fow.
Me: Hi, I left my pants in my room. Nothing weird or anything, just folded them up and put them in the closet, then forgot they were there.
L&F Day you lee them in ah kah-see-no?
Me: Err, no. In my closet, in my room. 14-313.
L&F: I goin nee your roo namba.
Me: 14-313.
L&F: Juan Momayng.
Me: Who? No, I'm Alex Moore.
L&F: I say escuse me for juan momayng. Okay I hava one Old Navy blue jean an one lay-thar belt.
Me: (trying to make a joke) That's funny, I think I have the same exact pair!
-silence-
Me: (continued) Ooookay so can I arrange to have them mailed to me?
L&F: Jessir we can shit they to you.
Me: (stifling laughter): Oh, you can? Huh-huh-huh, okay, I would like to arrange, huhhuhhuh, to have them, uh, shit to my house.
L&F: Okay I need your full nay and ah-dray.
Me: Joel Moore. 1147 Pol-
L&F: Thas spell J-O-E M-O-L-L-R-E?
Me: No, two 'O's.
L&F: J-O-O M-O
Me: No no no no, J-O-E-L M-O-O-R-E.
L&F: Ohhh so sorry. Ha ha. An adray?
Me: 1147 Pollyanne Ave SE. Salem, OR 97306.
L&F: Okay I hava 147 Tollan Elen Oregon. An what was the zeet code agay?
Me: Well the zip code was 97306, but let me give you the whole thing again. 1147 P-O-L-L-Y-A-N-N-E Avenue Salem Oregon 97306.
L&F: Ohh ha ha Pollyanna.
Me: No, Pollyanne. An "E" at the end.
L&F: Ohh ha ha Pollyanneeee.
Me: No, just Pollyanne. Silent E.
L&F: Okay and is Elen Oregon spelled E-L-E-N?
Me: No, it's S-A-L-E-M. "S" as in Sarsaparilla. Actually, "S" as in Steven.
L&F Ohhh yah I know Salem. Ooookay so we send Juan Cheen and Juan Lay-thar belt to Joo Mollre 1147 Tollan Habanu Elen Orygaw Ny-Sayba-Tree-Zeero-Seez. Thanyu for cally N-CHI-N and haba nayng day.
Potpourri. Casserole. Party Mix.
Here are a list of thoughts that have been going through my head that are not each worth their own blog but need to be said anyway.
- At first I thought it was merely a park bench, but I must've unwittingly sat at a head game table, because I've just been overwhelmed with contestants lately and I didn't even know I was supposed to be playing along.
- The last two months have been a blur and I don't feel totally convinced that any of this is happening. The fact that I'm going to visit the Musicians Institute in Hollywood on Tuesday as a prospective student doesn't make any of this feel more real.
- I am doing okay, and I am not lonely. Some people cannot seem to accept that.
- Sometimes at night when I really get into an album I'm listening to, I get the delusion that it understands me.
- I am not lonely, but I am more alone than ever before.
- There are only two things in life that I want. This messes everything up because I only planned on one thing right now. Fortunately they are not mutually exclusive, but at the same time I have a feeling that it will be nearly impossible to make both happen. I've been here before. This time I think I will have to go with what's behind door number one instead.
- I have never been stronger, but I have never been more fragile either.
- I have gained a fluency through my instrument that I've never had before. Finally ideas are no longer destined solely to take the form of words.
- "There is nothing more powerful than an idea whose time has come." -Saul Williams
- Sometimes I wonder: When I look back at this time in my life, will things seem as clear as they do right now? Am I delusional or just paranoid?
- I need a hug.
- I keep bouncing between two poles: Not believing in destiny, and being deathly afraid of it.
- At some point I hope to break the cycle and climb high without the inevitable fall.
- All the Sunday School sermons about valleys and mountain tops could have never prepared me for this.
- I do not know how, but I feel that all my life has prepared me for this.
- Does the definition of substance abuse vary person to person?
- I simultaneously want to feel everything but also become numbed to everything.
- I would choose freedom over money any day. But I am rarely faced with the choice. It's usually freedom vs. nothing, and when I slip into old habits I end up picking nothing. So maybe there's a reason why I haven't been allowed to graduate to the freedom vs. money test yet.
- I still remember my best friend's phone number from grade school. I have not even begun to try to forgive myself for how I treated him Freshman year of high school. He seems to be doing really well now. I don't know if he would be doing so good if we had remained friends.
- Confession is good for the soul.
- At first I thought it was merely a park bench, but I must've unwittingly sat at a head game table, because I've just been overwhelmed with contestants lately and I didn't even know I was supposed to be playing along.
- The last two months have been a blur and I don't feel totally convinced that any of this is happening. The fact that I'm going to visit the Musicians Institute in Hollywood on Tuesday as a prospective student doesn't make any of this feel more real.
- I am doing okay, and I am not lonely. Some people cannot seem to accept that.
- Sometimes at night when I really get into an album I'm listening to, I get the delusion that it understands me.
- I am not lonely, but I am more alone than ever before.
- There are only two things in life that I want. This messes everything up because I only planned on one thing right now. Fortunately they are not mutually exclusive, but at the same time I have a feeling that it will be nearly impossible to make both happen. I've been here before. This time I think I will have to go with what's behind door number one instead.
- I have never been stronger, but I have never been more fragile either.
- I have gained a fluency through my instrument that I've never had before. Finally ideas are no longer destined solely to take the form of words.
- "There is nothing more powerful than an idea whose time has come." -Saul Williams
- Sometimes I wonder: When I look back at this time in my life, will things seem as clear as they do right now? Am I delusional or just paranoid?
- I need a hug.
- I keep bouncing between two poles: Not believing in destiny, and being deathly afraid of it.
- At some point I hope to break the cycle and climb high without the inevitable fall.
- All the Sunday School sermons about valleys and mountain tops could have never prepared me for this.
- I do not know how, but I feel that all my life has prepared me for this.
- Does the definition of substance abuse vary person to person?
- I simultaneously want to feel everything but also become numbed to everything.
- I would choose freedom over money any day. But I am rarely faced with the choice. It's usually freedom vs. nothing, and when I slip into old habits I end up picking nothing. So maybe there's a reason why I haven't been allowed to graduate to the freedom vs. money test yet.
- I still remember my best friend's phone number from grade school. I have not even begun to try to forgive myself for how I treated him Freshman year of high school. He seems to be doing really well now. I don't know if he would be doing so good if we had remained friends.
- Confession is good for the soul.
Monday, May 4, 2009
Bought a ticket
"It's all a matter of how bad you want it," my dad always said. I can name every place I was when he told me this: Standing under the basketball hoop on an August afternoon; riding home in the truck after a game; learning how to prune cherry trees in the orchard; sitting on my bed with my guitar across my lap.
When I was seven we were driving North on Highway 221 heading toward our house near Dayton, Oregon, when my dad said he would buy me any guitar in the world if I could learn to play the solo on "Sultans of Swing" by Dire Straits. He had already bought me my first guitar two years earlier at a garage sale when I was 5, but I wouldn't know it until I found the old Yamaha acoustic a coat closet when I was thirteen. Who knows if I would've bothered to pick it up if it had been given directly to me as a gift.
In May of 1999, at the end of my freshman year at Dayton, my guidance counselor asked me what I wanted to do for a career, and when I told her, she replied, "...Is there, um, anything more practical that you want to do?" "No," I answered.
Today I bought a plane ticket to Hollywood on the 10-year anniversary of my conversation with the guidance counselor. Immediately doubt and fear began to set in. Were I standing alone, the pressure might be enough for me to collapse.
Sometimes I feel that doing it for me is not a good enough reason, no matter how bad I want it. But if "myself" isn't enough of a reason to go, I can do it for my mom, dad, and sister who never told me to turn it down. These are the people who pulled me out of the pit two months ago when everything came undone.
"And they worked to give faith hands and feet
And somehow gave it wings"
-Rich Mullins
When I was seven we were driving North on Highway 221 heading toward our house near Dayton, Oregon, when my dad said he would buy me any guitar in the world if I could learn to play the solo on "Sultans of Swing" by Dire Straits. He had already bought me my first guitar two years earlier at a garage sale when I was 5, but I wouldn't know it until I found the old Yamaha acoustic a coat closet when I was thirteen. Who knows if I would've bothered to pick it up if it had been given directly to me as a gift.
In May of 1999, at the end of my freshman year at Dayton, my guidance counselor asked me what I wanted to do for a career, and when I told her, she replied, "...Is there, um, anything more practical that you want to do?" "No," I answered.
Today I bought a plane ticket to Hollywood on the 10-year anniversary of my conversation with the guidance counselor. Immediately doubt and fear began to set in. Were I standing alone, the pressure might be enough for me to collapse.
Sometimes I feel that doing it for me is not a good enough reason, no matter how bad I want it. But if "myself" isn't enough of a reason to go, I can do it for my mom, dad, and sister who never told me to turn it down. These are the people who pulled me out of the pit two months ago when everything came undone.
"And they worked to give faith hands and feet
And somehow gave it wings"
-Rich Mullins
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Still bleeding: The second half of something I wrote a year ago.
I take issue with the phrase, "live life with no regrets." My life is full of regrets and I cling tightly to them refusing to give them up, because I know that they are what keeps me from becoming content; a predicament I fear more than anything. This is the tree from a seed planted by Mrs. Remy in pre-Algebra, 1997, who warned a class full of seventh graders from ever becoming content-- something that contradicted every sermon of self-actualization preached to us by the Hug-Yourself cult.
It's 8:30am on a Saturday morning and I'm peering at my laptop out of one bloodshot eye. I'm laying on the floor (I don't have a bed yet) and I've got to leave for work soon and process financial transactions after three hours of sleep. I'm going through the delicate, painful demise of a seven year relationship, five of which were married years. And while I cannot quite explain it, I find myself in three places: (1) Happier than ever before, (2) More joyful than ever before (joy and happiness are not the same) and (3) less content than ever before.
Please understand I am not a sadist, nor am I glad that my marriage failed. If it were my choice, none of this would be happening. I would not be watching movies sitting in a lawn chair in my empty bedroom while framed photos documenting the last 7 years lean against the wall in the corner like folded-up chairs after a party. So when I say that I'm happy, do not be so simple to draw relation between this and my wife leaving on Friday the 13th of March.
Finally I have learned the difference between what we can regret and what we can't. I've got a long list of shortcomings, misgivings and screw-ups that I carry with me as a way of challenging myself to do better next time. But there's this other category of things. Things that just happened, things that are out of my hands, things that I cannot fix. These are the things that I do not, and cannot regret.
Anyone who refuses to regret certain things is robbing themselves of an opportunity for improvement. But for the other things-- the things out of our hands-- lies a rare liberating freedom to those who are willing to embrace the present bleeding pain and call it what it is: It Is.
This is: I'm sleeping on the floor, but I am getting a bed soon. I'm hung over but I am recovering. I'm broken but I am healing. I cannot block myself from the reality of the pain I'm enduring because the pain is reality, and I value reality more than I value temporary pseudo-peace. If pain is what is real at the moment, I want what is real more than I want to be shielded from suffering.
And this is why I'm happy.
Last year, March 25, 2008, I wrote, "...I felt everything. With every passing second reality exhaled, and I could feel its breath on the back of my neck. I realized that this morning I woke up not on the wrong side of the bed but in the raw consciousness of reality. It throbbed like a fresh wound, and I could not get enough of it. "
It's 8:30am on a Saturday morning and I'm peering at my laptop out of one bloodshot eye. I'm laying on the floor (I don't have a bed yet) and I've got to leave for work soon and process financial transactions after three hours of sleep. I'm going through the delicate, painful demise of a seven year relationship, five of which were married years. And while I cannot quite explain it, I find myself in three places: (1) Happier than ever before, (2) More joyful than ever before (joy and happiness are not the same) and (3) less content than ever before.
Please understand I am not a sadist, nor am I glad that my marriage failed. If it were my choice, none of this would be happening. I would not be watching movies sitting in a lawn chair in my empty bedroom while framed photos documenting the last 7 years lean against the wall in the corner like folded-up chairs after a party. So when I say that I'm happy, do not be so simple to draw relation between this and my wife leaving on Friday the 13th of March.
Finally I have learned the difference between what we can regret and what we can't. I've got a long list of shortcomings, misgivings and screw-ups that I carry with me as a way of challenging myself to do better next time. But there's this other category of things. Things that just happened, things that are out of my hands, things that I cannot fix. These are the things that I do not, and cannot regret.
Anyone who refuses to regret certain things is robbing themselves of an opportunity for improvement. But for the other things-- the things out of our hands-- lies a rare liberating freedom to those who are willing to embrace the present bleeding pain and call it what it is: It Is.
This is: I'm sleeping on the floor, but I am getting a bed soon. I'm hung over but I am recovering. I'm broken but I am healing. I cannot block myself from the reality of the pain I'm enduring because the pain is reality, and I value reality more than I value temporary pseudo-peace. If pain is what is real at the moment, I want what is real more than I want to be shielded from suffering.
And this is why I'm happy.
Last year, March 25, 2008, I wrote, "...I felt everything. With every passing second reality exhaled, and I could feel its breath on the back of my neck. I realized that this morning I woke up not on the wrong side of the bed but in the raw consciousness of reality. It throbbed like a fresh wound, and I could not get enough of it. "
Friday, March 13, 2009
Thoughts on the Lawn Sign War on Alcohol
It would be imprecise to say that some days everything pisses me off. That's entirely untrue. What actually happens during these dandy times is that the same kinds of things piss me off, but they piss me off a whole lot more than normal.
Today is one of those days. And it's not that I'm having a bad day or anything. Quite the opposite. I'm having a wonderful day. And what's making it even more wonderful is the fact that whenever I'm apprehended by one of these super-pissy fits is that it is always accompanied by the ability to find the exact words I'm looking for. And many of you may know that one of the most frustrating things in the world is being super-pissed and having no way to express it.
So today I'm walking down the sidewalk between classes at WOU, completely unaware that something is about to catch my eye that will cause me to start writing my next blog internally for the next twenty-five minutes.
I see a series of picket signs stuck in the lawn-- hundreds, it seems-- and this already puts me on guard because picket signs, especially in multitudes, usually are the product of Highly Motivated People. And as George Carlin once cautioned, these people are the ones that are making life real shitty for the rest of us.
George: "I think motivation is overrated. You show me some lazy prick who's lying around all day, watching game shows and stroking his penis and I'll show you someone who's not causing any fucking trouble."
So I approach the signs and the first thing that catches my eyes are a bunch of photos of mangled, twisted steel: Automobile accidents. I'm not sure what fallacy these signs are about to committ, perhaps that wearing a seatbelt makes you drive better, but by now I've already got my guard up.
So then I get close enough to read the text. The first sign says something like, "Contrary to what you may think, EVERYONE WILL HATE YOU IF YOU DRINK ALCOHOL." That may not be the exact wording, but that's pretty much the gist.
And then I see this winner. This is the one that really gets me all fidgety. "The perception that alcohol use is socially acceptable correlates with the fact that more than 80% of American youth consume alcohol before their 21st birthday."
This one is word for word, and because it is word for word, I am compelled to discuss what a pile of shit this series of words is. Do you see how it starts? "The perception that alcohol use is socially acceptable."
Here's what this is saying. "Look kids, you might think that other people are okay with you drinking, but this really isn't the case. Nobody wants you to drink. In fact, people think you are an asshole when you drink..."
Do you see the manipulation?
Then it goes on, "... and the reason people think it's okay to drink is because they drank alcohol for the first time before their 7,665th day on the planet. And the reason we know this is bad is because if there is one thing modern mathematics and physiology has taught us, is the mystic correlation between alcohol and the number 7,665."
Do you see the bad logic here? The first part of the sentence has nothing to do with the second half! It's like saying, "The reason adults operate under the faulty perception that it's okay to shit their pants in public is because they shit their pants a lot as an infant." NO CORRELATION.
And nevermind the silly attempt at linking alcohol and 21 years. There are morality and ethics, sure. But there are also laws. And just because all three attempt to govern our behavior does not mean they are one in the same. Laws are in place because people put them in place, and they need not be credited with some sort of supreme authority, especially when a simple majority can rewrite what's right.
But here's the biggest problem with this sign. It suggests that the "everybody is doing it" reason is a bad reason to drink. And I totally agree. "Everybody's doing it" is a stupid reason to do anything. But if we apply the same logic, the counter-argument that they are imposing, "Actually everybody's not doing it" is just as bad because it draws upon the same social coercion.
I think what needs to be banned here is not the alcohol but the notion that people should or should not do something because a supposed majority is acting a certain way, and screw anybody who tries to accomplish what they feel is a "good cause" by employing such evil, manipulative, anti-individualistic logic.
And there's thousands of these signs. And they all say some of the goofiest damn things I've ever read.
Here's another fine piece of American literature: "Alcohol is the number one date rape drug."
NO IT'S NOT
When is the last time you and your buddies said, "Hey, wanna meet up for some date rape drugs after work?" How about this one: You're watching the big game and a commercial comes on saying, "Budweiser. Crisp. Clean. Refreshing. America's finest date rape drug, since 1872."
Folks, there's only one date rape drug. It's free, natural, and some people have too much of it. It's testosterone. And when it's in a cocktail mixed with anunbridled ego and a severe power trip, it causes problems. People have been getting raped by this type of guy for years, and it's not just women. Because rape isn't a sex crime, it's a power crime. And if you don't think that power crimes don't happen in places other than dorm rooms and bachelor parties, see: Patriot Act.
At the bottom of the sign I saw a footnote. It was a website url, www.brad21.org.
I just went to the site. Here's the breakdown. Brad21 is a website devoted to a guy named Brad. Here's Brad in a nutshell. "Bradley was a Michigan State University Junior and Clarkston High School graduate. He was majoring in parks and recreation management... He worked with young children... He spent two summers as a day camp counselor... He loved to play soccer year-round... He had many and varied friends, made friends easily with his fun loving nature and love for life in general..."
Basically an all-around nice guy. Then guess what happened. He turned 21 and went out drinking. "When he had finished 21 shots and knowing that the record among his friends was 23, he drank three more for a total of 24 shots of liquor. He drank them in about 1-½ hours. Because he drank the liquor so fast, his body was still catching up and his blood alcohol count was still rising when he left the bar. His friends took him home and put him to bed as he passed out. His BAC continued to climb to a lethal level of .44 g/100ml, as the depressant did its work. His breathing stopped and the coroner estimates that he died at approximately 4:30 AM. He died on his 21st birthday, November 5, 1998."
It's very sad. I don't want to undermine the sadness of the situation. But there should be a few more websites about Brad, like www.duh.com and www.brads-friends-are-dickheads.com.
I wish it were possible for me to be simultaneously funny and serious, but at this point in my blog I simply can't commit to one or the other, and I think it's because this Brad thing us sucking the humor out of me. And so were the thousands of signs in the lawn. And so are the Motivatards that put them there.
Today is one of those days. And it's not that I'm having a bad day or anything. Quite the opposite. I'm having a wonderful day. And what's making it even more wonderful is the fact that whenever I'm apprehended by one of these super-pissy fits is that it is always accompanied by the ability to find the exact words I'm looking for. And many of you may know that one of the most frustrating things in the world is being super-pissed and having no way to express it.
So today I'm walking down the sidewalk between classes at WOU, completely unaware that something is about to catch my eye that will cause me to start writing my next blog internally for the next twenty-five minutes.
I see a series of picket signs stuck in the lawn-- hundreds, it seems-- and this already puts me on guard because picket signs, especially in multitudes, usually are the product of Highly Motivated People. And as George Carlin once cautioned, these people are the ones that are making life real shitty for the rest of us.
George: "I think motivation is overrated. You show me some lazy prick who's lying around all day, watching game shows and stroking his penis and I'll show you someone who's not causing any fucking trouble."
So I approach the signs and the first thing that catches my eyes are a bunch of photos of mangled, twisted steel: Automobile accidents. I'm not sure what fallacy these signs are about to committ, perhaps that wearing a seatbelt makes you drive better, but by now I've already got my guard up.
So then I get close enough to read the text. The first sign says something like, "Contrary to what you may think, EVERYONE WILL HATE YOU IF YOU DRINK ALCOHOL." That may not be the exact wording, but that's pretty much the gist.
And then I see this winner. This is the one that really gets me all fidgety. "The perception that alcohol use is socially acceptable correlates with the fact that more than 80% of American youth consume alcohol before their 21st birthday."
This one is word for word, and because it is word for word, I am compelled to discuss what a pile of shit this series of words is. Do you see how it starts? "The perception that alcohol use is socially acceptable."
Here's what this is saying. "Look kids, you might think that other people are okay with you drinking, but this really isn't the case. Nobody wants you to drink. In fact, people think you are an asshole when you drink..."
Do you see the manipulation?
Then it goes on, "... and the reason people think it's okay to drink is because they drank alcohol for the first time before their 7,665th day on the planet. And the reason we know this is bad is because if there is one thing modern mathematics and physiology has taught us, is the mystic correlation between alcohol and the number 7,665."
Do you see the bad logic here? The first part of the sentence has nothing to do with the second half! It's like saying, "The reason adults operate under the faulty perception that it's okay to shit their pants in public is because they shit their pants a lot as an infant." NO CORRELATION.
And nevermind the silly attempt at linking alcohol and 21 years. There are morality and ethics, sure. But there are also laws. And just because all three attempt to govern our behavior does not mean they are one in the same. Laws are in place because people put them in place, and they need not be credited with some sort of supreme authority, especially when a simple majority can rewrite what's right.
But here's the biggest problem with this sign. It suggests that the "everybody is doing it" reason is a bad reason to drink. And I totally agree. "Everybody's doing it" is a stupid reason to do anything. But if we apply the same logic, the counter-argument that they are imposing, "Actually everybody's not doing it" is just as bad because it draws upon the same social coercion.
I think what needs to be banned here is not the alcohol but the notion that people should or should not do something because a supposed majority is acting a certain way, and screw anybody who tries to accomplish what they feel is a "good cause" by employing such evil, manipulative, anti-individualistic logic.
And there's thousands of these signs. And they all say some of the goofiest damn things I've ever read.
Here's another fine piece of American literature: "Alcohol is the number one date rape drug."
NO IT'S NOT
When is the last time you and your buddies said, "Hey, wanna meet up for some date rape drugs after work?" How about this one: You're watching the big game and a commercial comes on saying, "Budweiser. Crisp. Clean. Refreshing. America's finest date rape drug, since 1872."
Folks, there's only one date rape drug. It's free, natural, and some people have too much of it. It's testosterone. And when it's in a cocktail mixed with anunbridled ego and a severe power trip, it causes problems. People have been getting raped by this type of guy for years, and it's not just women. Because rape isn't a sex crime, it's a power crime. And if you don't think that power crimes don't happen in places other than dorm rooms and bachelor parties, see: Patriot Act.
At the bottom of the sign I saw a footnote. It was a website url, www.brad21.org.
I just went to the site. Here's the breakdown. Brad21 is a website devoted to a guy named Brad. Here's Brad in a nutshell. "Bradley was a Michigan State University Junior and Clarkston High School graduate. He was majoring in parks and recreation management... He worked with young children... He spent two summers as a day camp counselor... He loved to play soccer year-round... He had many and varied friends, made friends easily with his fun loving nature and love for life in general..."
Basically an all-around nice guy. Then guess what happened. He turned 21 and went out drinking. "When he had finished 21 shots and knowing that the record among his friends was 23, he drank three more for a total of 24 shots of liquor. He drank them in about 1-½ hours. Because he drank the liquor so fast, his body was still catching up and his blood alcohol count was still rising when he left the bar. His friends took him home and put him to bed as he passed out. His BAC continued to climb to a lethal level of .44 g/100ml, as the depressant did its work. His breathing stopped and the coroner estimates that he died at approximately 4:30 AM. He died on his 21st birthday, November 5, 1998."
It's very sad. I don't want to undermine the sadness of the situation. But there should be a few more websites about Brad, like www.duh.com and www.brads-friends-are-dickheads.com.
I wish it were possible for me to be simultaneously funny and serious, but at this point in my blog I simply can't commit to one or the other, and I think it's because this Brad thing us sucking the humor out of me. And so were the thousands of signs in the lawn. And so are the Motivatards that put them there.
Monday, March 9, 2009
The Blog to End All Blogs
This really gave me a good tickle:
So I was surfing around online when I found a website called "No Slang." (www.noslang.com). It's a website put together for the purpose of allowing parents to decipher what "the kids nowadays" are saying. Directly from their website: "Parents praised us for helping them understand what their kids were saying."
Sure enough.
Most interesting is the place on the website devoted strictly to drug slang. It's pretty nifty. You go there and there's a little spot for you to enter text, and you hit the "translate" button and it will provide the definition for whatever slang you enter.
What's really nifty is that you can enter an entire phrase, sentence, or paragraph, and it will translate the entire amount so parents can understand *exactly* what the kids nowadays are saying.
When you go to the site, it gives a sample phrase so you can try it out.
Sample: "Abe was in a fix when his check for a sandwich and some tea totaled over twelve dollars but he only had two fives."
Translation (word for damned word): $5 worth of drugs was Connected with drug suppliers LSD To inject a drug when his Personal supply of drugs for LSD Two layers of cocaine with a layer of heroin in the middle and some Marijuana;phencyclidine totaled over twelve dollars but he only had two Amphetamine.
Ahahahahaha I love it. What a precise science.
So I decided to test this thing. I entered what is perhaps the most cryptic language ever: The lyrics to Louie Louie. Now, nobody knows what the hell The Kingsmen are saying, so it was hard enough to find a fairly logical translation of their slurring and giberrish. But from what I can tell, the Kingsmen's incoherency is so drug-saturated that no matter WHAT an artist is singing about, it's really about drugs.
Here's a verse-by-verse translation.
Actual verse:
Louie Louie, oh no
Me gotta go
Aye-yi-yi-yi, I said
Louie Louie, oh baby
Me gotta go
Translation (LITERALLY copied-and-pasted):
Louie Louie, oh no Me gotta Amphetamines; methylenedioxymethamphetamine (MDMA) Aye-yi-yi-yi, I said Louie Louie, oh Marijuana Me gotta Amphetamines; methylenedioxymethamphetamine (MDMA)
Next verse:
Fine little girl waits for me
Catch a ship across the sea
Sail that ship about, all alone
Never know if I make it home
Translation:
Fine little Cocaine; Crack Cocaine; heroin waits for me Catch LSD ship across the sea Sail that ship about, all alone Never know if I make it home
-----------
Folks, I'M SHOCKED. I've been senselessly blargling along to the lyrics of Louie Louie for years not knowing that I was propagating such heinous drug-related messages!
So I decided to do a little more hunting to see what I could find.
"Somewhere Over The Rainbow" from the Wizard of Oz:
Somewhere, over the rainbow, way up high.
There's a land that I heard of Once in a lullaby.
Somewhere, over the rainbow, skies are blue.
And the dreams that you dare to dream
Really do come true.
Translation:
Somewhere, over the LSD, way up high. There's LSD land that I heard of Once Connected with drug suppliers LSD lullaby. Somewhere, over the LSD, skies are Crack Cocaine; depressants; OxyContin. And the Opium that you dare to Cocaine Really do come true.
"A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes" from Cinderella:
A dream is a wish your heart makes
When you're fast asleep
In dreams you lose your heartaches
Whatever you wish for, you keep
Translation:
LSD Cocaine is LSD wish your heart makes When you're Methamphetamine asleep In Opium you lose your heartaches Whatever you wish for, you keep
"Baby Baby (Heart in Motion)" by Amy Grant:
Baby, baby
I'm taken with the notion
To love you with the sweetest of devotion.
Baby, baby
My tender love will flow from
The bluest sky to the deepest ocean.
Stop for a minute
Baby, I'm so glad you're mine, yeah
You're mine.
Translation:
Marijuana, Marijuana I'm taken with the notion To Crack Cocaine you with the sweetest of devotion. Baby, Marijuana My tender Crack Cocaine will flow from The bluest sky to the deepest ocean. Stop for LSD minute Baby, I'm so glad you're mine, yeah You're mine.
First Book of Nephi 3:16, Book of Mormon:
Wherefore, let us be faithful in keeping the commandments of the Lord; therefore let us go down to the land of our father's inheritance, for behold he left gold and silver, and all manner of riches. And all this he hath done because of the commandments of the Lord.
Translation:
Wherefore, let us be faithful Connected with drug suppliers keeping the commandments of the Lord; therefore let us Amphetamines; methylenedioxymethamphetamine (MDMA) Codeine coughCombination of marijuana and cough syrup to the land of our father's inheritance, for behold he left Marijuana; Crack Cocaine; heroin and silver, and all manner of riches. And all this he hath Methadone because of the commandments of the Lord.
Preamble of the U.S. Constitution:
We the people of the United States, in order to form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure domestic tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.
Translation:
We the people of the United States, Connected with drug suppliers order to form LSD PCP perfect union, establish justice, insure Locally grown marijuana tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.
And finally, and MOST SHOCKINGLY:
Mother Teresa:
Everytime you smile at someone, it is an action of love, a gift to that person, a beautiful thing.
Translation:
Everytime you smile at someone, it is an action of Crack Cocaine, LSD gift to that person, LSD beautiful Cocaine; Crack Cocaine; heroin; main drug interest at the momement.
This really gave me a good tickle:
So I was surfing around online when I found a website called "No Slang." (www.noslang.com). It's a website put together for the purpose of allowing parents to decipher what "the kids nowadays" are saying. Directly from their website: "Parents praised us for helping them understand what their kids were saying."
Sure enough.
Most interesting is the place on the website devoted strictly to drug slang. It's pretty nifty. You go there and there's a little spot for you to enter text, and you hit the "translate" button and it will provide the definition for whatever slang you enter.
What's really nifty is that you can enter an entire phrase, sentence, or paragraph, and it will translate the entire amount so parents can understand *exactly* what the kids nowadays are saying.
When you go to the site, it gives a sample phrase so you can try it out.
Sample: "Abe was in a fix when his check for a sandwich and some tea totaled over twelve dollars but he only had two fives."
Translation (word for damned word): $5 worth of drugs was Connected with drug suppliers LSD To inject a drug when his Personal supply of drugs for LSD Two layers of cocaine with a layer of heroin in the middle and some Marijuana;phencyclidine totaled over twelve dollars but he only had two Amphetamine.
Ahahahahaha I love it. What a precise science.
So I decided to test this thing. I entered what is perhaps the most cryptic language ever: The lyrics to Louie Louie. Now, nobody knows what the hell The Kingsmen are saying, so it was hard enough to find a fairly logical translation of their slurring and giberrish. But from what I can tell, the Kingsmen's incoherency is so drug-saturated that no matter WHAT an artist is singing about, it's really about drugs.
Here's a verse-by-verse translation.
Actual verse:
Louie Louie, oh no
Me gotta go
Aye-yi-yi-yi, I said
Louie Louie, oh baby
Me gotta go
Translation (LITERALLY copied-and-pasted):
Louie Louie, oh no Me gotta Amphetamines; methylenedioxymethamphetamine (MDMA) Aye-yi-yi-yi, I said Louie Louie, oh Marijuana Me gotta Amphetamines; methylenedioxymethamphetamine (MDMA)
Next verse:
Fine little girl waits for me
Catch a ship across the sea
Sail that ship about, all alone
Never know if I make it home
Translation:
Fine little Cocaine; Crack Cocaine; heroin waits for me Catch LSD ship across the sea Sail that ship about, all alone Never know if I make it home
-----------
Folks, I'M SHOCKED. I've been senselessly blargling along to the lyrics of Louie Louie for years not knowing that I was propagating such heinous drug-related messages!
So I decided to do a little more hunting to see what I could find.
"Somewhere Over The Rainbow" from the Wizard of Oz:
Somewhere, over the rainbow, way up high.
There's a land that I heard of Once in a lullaby.
Somewhere, over the rainbow, skies are blue.
And the dreams that you dare to dream
Really do come true.
Translation:
Somewhere, over the LSD, way up high. There's LSD land that I heard of Once Connected with drug suppliers LSD lullaby. Somewhere, over the LSD, skies are Crack Cocaine; depressants; OxyContin. And the Opium that you dare to Cocaine Really do come true.
"A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes" from Cinderella:
A dream is a wish your heart makes
When you're fast asleep
In dreams you lose your heartaches
Whatever you wish for, you keep
Translation:
LSD Cocaine is LSD wish your heart makes When you're Methamphetamine asleep In Opium you lose your heartaches Whatever you wish for, you keep
"Baby Baby (Heart in Motion)" by Amy Grant:
Baby, baby
I'm taken with the notion
To love you with the sweetest of devotion.
Baby, baby
My tender love will flow from
The bluest sky to the deepest ocean.
Stop for a minute
Baby, I'm so glad you're mine, yeah
You're mine.
Translation:
Marijuana, Marijuana I'm taken with the notion To Crack Cocaine you with the sweetest of devotion. Baby, Marijuana My tender Crack Cocaine will flow from The bluest sky to the deepest ocean. Stop for LSD minute Baby, I'm so glad you're mine, yeah You're mine.
First Book of Nephi 3:16, Book of Mormon:
Wherefore, let us be faithful in keeping the commandments of the Lord; therefore let us go down to the land of our father's inheritance, for behold he left gold and silver, and all manner of riches. And all this he hath done because of the commandments of the Lord.
Translation:
Wherefore, let us be faithful Connected with drug suppliers keeping the commandments of the Lord; therefore let us Amphetamines; methylenedioxymethamphetamine (MDMA) Codeine coughCombination of marijuana and cough syrup to the land of our father's inheritance, for behold he left Marijuana; Crack Cocaine; heroin and silver, and all manner of riches. And all this he hath Methadone because of the commandments of the Lord.
Preamble of the U.S. Constitution:
We the people of the United States, in order to form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure domestic tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.
Translation:
We the people of the United States, Connected with drug suppliers order to form LSD PCP perfect union, establish justice, insure Locally grown marijuana tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.
And finally, and MOST SHOCKINGLY:
Mother Teresa:
Everytime you smile at someone, it is an action of love, a gift to that person, a beautiful thing.
Translation:
Everytime you smile at someone, it is an action of Crack Cocaine, LSD gift to that person, LSD beautiful Cocaine; Crack Cocaine; heroin; main drug interest at the momement.
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