Cleaning out the Drawers in my Head

For me, one of the cooler concepts in the Harry Potter books is the Pensieve, an object into which I can dump my thoughts in order to review them objectively. What a brilliant idea. I always feel like I’ve got a ton of ideas sprouting in my head but so many of them seem to wither on the vine before I get to examine them further. Sadly, Pensieves are just a creation of JK Rowlings imagination, so I have to settle for using this Blog. That said here’s the crap rolling around my head.

Iraq

When we first started gearing up for this war I said, “This is a mistake. We’ll get in and not have any way of getting out and our children will pay the price.” When they decided against using the Powell doctrine of overwhelming force I again told anyone who would listen to me that it was a mistake. No war has ever been won “on the cheap”, either a nation is willing to commit blood and treasure or it isn’t. So what do I get for being right? Not a God damn thing.

We’re still in Iraq. We still have too few soldiers on the ground and now we have no means of increasing the ranks short of a draft. We can’t leave without stabilizing the situation and we can’t stabilize the situation without more men, or a miracle. How could they let it come to this? Did they really think that shock and awe would be enough to make our enemies forget that they’ve got us out numbered on the ground in hostile (to us) territory? Are our leaders that stupid? Apparently yes.

The President

What really terrifies me is that despite all of the above, all the rigged bids for Halliburton and others, the soaring price of fuel, the disregard for our constitution, I have friends who still thank God “we have a Christian in the White House”. Whenever I think about this too much I want to punch someone. Here’s my own little prayer to God, “Please God give me a moderate to vote for in the next presidential election or even just someone with half a brain. I’m not asking for much, John McCain or Colin Powell will do. Are you sure we can’t bring back Clinton?”

I’m not even going to waste prayers on the Democrats getting clue. The party is in the hands of whiny ineffectual liberals who are too convinced that they’re smarter than the electorate. This attitude, more than anything else is why we've had GW for the past 6 years. Get a clue guys, the country isn't going to suddenly "see the light" and decide you hold the keys to the country's future.

The Olympics

At last something positive to think about. I’ve enjoyed the Olympics as far back as I can remember. As with every winter Olympics since I first started reading the newspaper, sports columnists are going to great lengths to describe how irrelevant they are and how the American public doesn’t give a damn. Occasionally, they’ll take a break from that rant to lament how so and so choked and let everyone down.

Honestly, fuck them.

I’ve enjoyed watching these games, even curling. This stuff is on TV once every four years, the novelty alone is enough to interest me. The athletes are clearly among the best in the world and the outcomes are determined by tenths or even hundredths of a second. Some of the newer events seem a little to geared towards the X-games crowd but they were interesting.

It’s a little annoying hearing about how certain athlete’s or teams “choked”. I’ll accept that Bode Miller should get his ration of shit because he sought out the publicity and hasn't come close to delivering. Some of the other “chokers” don’t make sense to me. US men’s hockey had no chance of medaling, never did. The women played well and lost, it happens. The women curlers, looked really cute so I’m prepared to forgive them anything.

The problem, I think, is when people try and take these games too seriously. It’s a once every fours years traveling circus, enjoy the spectacle. I have.

Here's a Thought

Write something you horse’s ass!! I don’t know what my excuse has been these last few months. Every time things get a little challenging on the home front I throw down the pen (keyboard) and stop writing. It ain’t right! No amount of teething, crying, kid’s colds, etc. should excuse me using time that should be spent writing, to slack off and tool around on the internet.

I work in an office where there is no “water cooler culture”. People on my floor don’t seem to spend a whole lot of time chatting for whatever reason. The fact that I work from home a lot doesn’t help either. Even when there’s chatting I don’t often take part. However, it’s impossible to be 100% dedicated to my job while I’m at work. I wouldn’t want to meet the person with that kind of focus. One of my goals in writing has been to make productive use of that “water cooler time”. In fact I hope that the writing I do now will help propel me to my eventual goal of getting something published.

Distractions are a big problem in my life though. I’ve come to realize that it isn’t the distractions, it’s me. There will always be a good excuse not to do what I want, in this case to write. The key to success then, is to ignore the excuses and do what I really want to do. Not exactly profound, but sometimes I need to remind myself of this. Another thing I need a reminder of is the danger of being normal. I’ll paraphrase what a teacher of mine once told his chemistry class.

“Normal people fail, normal cheat on tests, cheat on their spouses, lie to there friends. Normal people take the easy way out, don’t think things through and try to avoid the consequences of their actions. These things happen every day. The question is, knowing what it means to be normal, who wants to be normal?”

My answer has always been a resounding “not me”. So this is another of my periodic reminders to me, that it’s not enough to say it, I have to live it.

A Cry for (Beer) Liberation

I had grand ideas of writing about the brouhaha going on in the Middle East, how the reaction to the cartoons about Mohammed is absurd. In looking through some of my favorite blogs, however, I've found that the subjects been done to death. So instead I'll post something I wrote about a thousand years ago when my brother and I shared an apartment. If anyone actually reads this please feel free to comment, praise, insult. Cheers.

A Cry for (Beer) Liberation

As I look into the refrigerator, I am overcome with a feeling of dread. Icy terror grips my stomach and my knees turn to jelly as I confront the hard reality before me. There is no beer left in the fridge! "How could this be?" I think to myself. How could I have been so foolish? How could I have been so wrong? I thought there would be enough, but no. Here we are at the dawn of the twenty-first century, in the richest nation in the world and yet my fridge is empty of beer.

I turn to the couch and there sits Dave with the last beer sitting on the table next to him. Opened yet barely touched, the dark tan bottle glistens with condensation. It calls to me. Its siren song tugs at my soul. I feel a need growing within me. It's starting in my stomach, it spreads to my parched throat. My hands long to hold the cool, wet bottle. Oh how I long for that cool liquid refreshment. I have to have it but how can I steal this treasure away from my greedy brother? He's so evil, so cruel hearted. He knows how much I want that beer but there he is hoarding it, the fiend.

I can take it no longer. So I walk over to the table and make a quick grab for the beer but Dave is quicker. He snatches the beer away from my outstretched hand and pulls it close to him. "Go get your own you dirty bastard." He tells me and then sips the beer. "Damn you!" I shout at him. "There's none left, that's the last beer!" "So, get over it." He replies calmly, taking another sip.

"I can't get over it!" I reply. "There's no way to get over it when it's Sunday and I can't buy any more! I can't get over it when a dirt bag like you is drinking the last beer and I'm left with nothing! Am I supposed to step aside and let you trample over my God given right to drink a beer and relax on a Sunday! Am I supposed to just stand here and watch you drink while I suffer from unbearable thirst! What kind of fool do you take me for! What kind of pushover would I be to let you get away with this act of theft and tyranny! Now I call upon whatever good is left in you, if there be any at all, to hand over that beer. To do the right thing before I'm forced to give you an ass kicking you will not soon forget."

"Damn it Kev, I bought the beer."

"Oh yah, sorry bought that."