Vital Eccentricity and Doubtful Sanity

A Word on the NYT Scandal and Press Leaks

2006-07-01T13:28:00.000-07:00

The freedom of the press is one of the most important freedoms in our country, and indeed in the idea of democracy. It is the most independent, unadulterated, and immediate of all the checks and balances - even though it is not technically classified as such. The freedom of the press creates an uncompromising accountability for elected officials to their constituency. Indeed it is the press whose job it is to work for the public's right to know. While the government is also supposed to work for the good of the public, it must at times keep secrets. It is this fact that creates a conundrum of non-transparency to the government’s bosses in a democracy - the people. The press should not be restricted by law from revealing any information it can come to poses and prove, unless there is a clear and present danger to people's lives. In the case of the NYT releasing information on the governments banking surveillance of terrorists that danger is not definitive. However, I do believe that it is the duty and the right of the government to investigate the source of information such as this. Furthermore, I do not believe that confidential sources should be legally protected by the freedom of the press, especially in cases such as this where said sources are in clear violation of confidentiality agreements. While it is legal for the press to print the information that they have obtained, it was not legal for the holder of the information to pass it to the press. Judith Miller deserved her time in jail for not cooperating with the government and revealing her sources. In fact I believe she should have spent more time in jail.

To penalize the NYT directly for printing the information they did would be unconstitutional. The question in this case is not was it legal for them to print the information - it was. The question here is whether the editors of the NYT exercised good ethical judgement - whether they weighed the good of the country over their own political beliefs and desires to aid their political agendas by attempting to generate public discord with the current administration. The golden age of the press is long gone. Gone, possibly forever, are the great newspapermen and women of the early half of the 1900s. The men and women who downplayed and overlooked the physical ailments of FDRs polio aftermath were the type of people who were true guardians of the publics right to know. In days such as these, issues of that ilk would be misused and taken advantage of instantly. There is no more ethics in mainstream media today, then there are in campaign finance and lobbying.
There is however, another "check and balance" that can be used to hold the press accountable. It generates from the independence of the press and their need to finance themselves. Stop buying their product. Stop reading the New York Times. Exercise your right as a consumer to punish the unethical or undesirable actions you perceive in their editorship. Some university libraries have already taken this action in protest, and they are to be commended for it. The single tenet of democracy and capitalism that truly makes it great is that everyone is accountable to someone else.

In Response to Pugwash...

2006-06-28T06:48:00.000-07:00

Pugwash said:

Hi Dude.Has the needle on your gramaphone stuck?You appear to be repeating your concerns about illegals over and over again?Let’s face it ‘Matty the Dude’, we have been down this track before and engaged in a robust debate that seemed to go round, and round…and round the houses as we both appeared to beg to differ with our polarised perspectives.So, it has surprised me that you are still beating the same drum, and aligning yourself to the public domain's ‘mainstream’ panderings. Honestly, I thought you might have investigated your ‘position’ by becoming a little more ‘read’ on the subject matter. Now, I don’t mean reading the tabloids or watching CNN (or even the BBC). And if you are going to pontificate about ‘illegals’ then at least start to do so from a position that does not entail refering to generalisations, such as ‘the people’, ‘they’, ‘the average American’, etc.“People” and “they’s” are the realities of our world, and as such are tangible human beings. And as for “the average American” – who are you including in this social collective? Perhaps you are alluding to President Bush’s ‘average American’, if so then you must be planning on purchasing a more up-to-date bible, because he seems to go about his business as if he had the authority of a ‘supreme being’ [I won’t say God because I do not believe such a manifestation exists or ever existed].I will be back to comment in the near future, but before I leave you to enjoy the summer I would like to remind you about your origins: the USA is FUNDAMENTALLY a nation of immigrants.

First I would like to address your final posits: I understand that we are a nation of immigrants. I embrace the fact that we are a nation of immigrants. If we did not allow people to immigrate to our country we would be defiling our very own foundations. The stuck needle, however, appears to be yours. The point that you cannot get past is the difference between legal and illegal immigration. The fact is that we no longer live between 1776 and 1950. We no longer need the massive influx of population we did then in order to keep our infrastructure running, to produce workers for the industrial revolution, to farm our fields, to build our cities, and railroads. As a nation the United States has the same right as any other to pass and enforce laws restricting immigration across its borders. That is - again I must point out - not ELIMINATE immigration, but rather control it, and supervise it. It is worth pointing out that the United States has some of the most lax immigration laws in the world - more lax than those of your home country. The people I speak ill of in my writing are ILLEGAL immigrants. Those who would ignore the laws of our country as their first act of arrival. Those who would break our laws and then demand to be allowed to operate freely in our country.

When I use the term "average American" I allude to a hardworking, law abiding citizen. One who works in an office, or a landfill. One who loves our country and loves being a part of it, and contributing back to it. When I use words like "they" or "people" I do not intend to (nor after re-reading do I believe I do) make broad sweeping generalizations. These are literary tools that allow me to reference a group of people without repeating the same adjectives over and over to qualify my point.

Please refrain in the future from unfounded paranoid and thinly veiled assertions of racism and prejudice, because that is projection on your part, and has no place here. Just because a man does not agree with your viewpoint, and in fact holds his own ideas that might not be in the best interest of an entitlement minded minority party does not make him a racisit - as I believe is quite evident through my points.

I will again convey my main thesis on ILLEGAL IMMIGRATION:

Immigrants who cross our borders in violation of our nations laws should rightfully be returned to the country they came from. Immigrants who follow our immigration laws, and are granted entrance to our country should be warmly welcomed to our society. Unfortuntately, there are too many illegal immigrants already residing in our country for returning them to be realistic possibility. This is why I am not entirely opposed to some form of amnesty, although I do not know enough on the subject to put forth an adequate suggestion at this time.

Still stuck on Illegal Immigration

2006-05-17T11:47:00.000-07:00

The truth is we are already screwed as far as illegal immigration is concerned. It has been going on unchecked for FAR too long. Long before GWB, long before Bubba, even long before Pappa Bush. It has always been a steady stream and since rumors of amnesty started flying around years ago it has become a full bore flood. The fact that so many humans are already here illegally is precisely why the far right agenda of deportation is not plausible. The average American is having a hard time stomaching the war on terror, how do you think they are going to respond when we start seeing clips every night on the news of screaming women, elders, and children, as they are rounded up and returned to Central and Southern America? It simply WILL NOT fly. They are here, and we as a country simply won't be able to live with ourselves if we just up and kick them all out. Are they lawbreakers? Yes. Do they deserve to be rewarded with citizenship for breaking our laws? No. But righting this wrong is one dirty job that nobody is going to do. This is one of those times when reality is trumping politics, and we all have to realize that IDing the ones who are here, and forcing them to pay at least a part of their dues back to society, along with increased border control to reduce the flow of those who just haven't gotten here yet - is our ONLY way of handling this crisis. Bush is being a realist, and to be honest his is the most plausible solution I have heard on the topic.

Illegal Registration Boycott!

2006-05-03T09:00:00.000-07:00

I think I have the perfect illegal alien comparison for you. It struck me the other day as I was going over old checks I had paid out. I came across a rather large one that was written out to the Motor Vehicle Administration in Maryland. I moved to Maryland a few years ago from Pennsylvania, and brought my car with me. My car, of course, had PA plates and registration. Now me, being the procrastinator that I am, decided that I would put off registering my vehicle in MD until it was convenient for me. I knew I would eventually have to do it, but it was a hassle and as I said, I am a lazy procrastinator. So the weeks turned into months and the months into a year. Finally one day I was pulled over. The cop, realizing that my car was not registered in the state I lived in issued me a steep fine for driving an unregistered vehicle, and forced me to have my car towed home. I was not allowed to operate the vehicle until it was registered in MD.

If I had known then what I know now I would have gone on protest! I would have decried the oppression I was experiencing at the hands of the US government and its restrictive laws. I just wanted to migrate from home to work every day! What would the country do without the productivity of the millions of Americans who rely on unregistered vehicles to get to work? What if we had a boycott day where everyone with an unregistered car and all those who support unregistered cars didn’t drive on the streets or buy gas or go to car washes? We should demand that all vehicles regardless of their registration be given the inalienable right to use our highways and byways, vehicle code be damned!

Now there is some difference between my situation and that of the illegal alien. I was eventually going to pay the registration fee, wait in line, fill out my papers, take my test, whatever I had to do to make my car legal. Do you really think the millions of illegal immigrants in this country eventually plan on making that trek to the naturalization office? What is wrong with forcing these people to go through a process of “registration” to become a citizen or at least a legal alien before they can take advantage of what this country has to offer? This country has laws, and if there is one thing the United States as a sovereign country has a right to do, it is to require those people who wish to live within its borders to follow its laws. That last statement is precisely what this is all about, everything else is spin.

Although I must say that my car did NOT operate at a much better gas mileage while it was unregistered, so I wasn’t making a killing using underpriced illegal labor.

Why We Didn't Arrest Illegals at Protests

2006-04-13T07:02:00.000-07:00

I am personally of the opinion that the decision to not arrest demonstrators at illegal immigration rallies (specifically illegal immigrants who were demonstrating) was in the long run a good idea. Simply charging in and arresting the relatively small percentage of illegal aliens (out of all our illegal aliens) is short sighted and plays into the liberal game plan.

If ICE agents in full riot gear go tearing into crowds of protestors the result is a few illegal immigrants deported with instant nonlethal martyrdom for each one of them. Images of the arrests will be seen in millions of homes and the US government looks like the big bad big brother looking to impose its will with force once again, while the illegals get to look like the poor downtrodden, oppressed, and persecuted minority which always gets the public support in the end.

Conversely what has happened is that these ridiculous demonstrations were allowed to get so big that the demonstrators have gotten over-confident. Their true colors and desires start to shine through as their egos and heads get bigger and bigger. American flags get burned, signs are waived telling legal citizens that they are in the wrong and should have to go back to Europe. Mexican flags are raised as state flags along with Old Glory are removed and/or defaced. These are the images getting into millions of homes now, and good legal citizens despise the demonstrators for it.

The truth of this situation really is that these people are trying to hold the U.S. hostage to demands they have no right to make. By standing idly by and allowing this farce to continue the US government is only giving the public a chance to see what these demonstrations really are. I think all this is evident by the obvious backlash against these demonstrations we are seeing both in action on in print (getting press coverage by God!).

Your average US conservative, who is still the majority in this country I might add, is infamously loathe to demonstrate. We prefer to quitely apply our views in vote or in dialogue, but not to flaunt and taunt and throw fits in the streets like our liberal counterparts. This tendency has definitely hurt us in relative recent history (and with ever increasing [liberal] media coverage ability), making the ear splittingly loud minority much more of a force than they should be. However, in this particular situation, by using a laissez faire approach the government allows the crybabies to be seen in their true light, and a fire has been lit under the common conservative. That fire manifests itself in voice, voice we are finally hearing.

Am I a Crazy Conspiracy Theorist?

2006-03-31T23:45:00.000-08:00

How likely is it that the U.S. or the U.N or maybe even Isreal is/are responsible for these earthquakes in Iran? Could they actually be expolsions of underground uranium enrichment facilities or other WMD related targets eliminated by an attacking force?

I don't think it has ever been put so well.

2006-03-01T04:20:00.000-08:00

The following actually aired on Al-Jazeera. It is by a woman named Wafa Sultan, a middle eastern athiest.

"The clash we are witnessing around the world is not a clash of religions, or a clash of civilizations. It is a clash between two opposites, between two eras. It is a clash between a mentality that belongs to the Middle Ages and another mentality that belongs to the 21st century. It is a clash between civilization and backwardness, between the civilized and the primitive, between barbarity and rationality. It is a clash between freedom and oppression, between democracy and dictatorship. It is a clash between human rights, on the one hand, and the violation of these rights, on other hand. It is a clash between those who treat women like beasts, and those who treat them like human beings. What we see today is not a clash of civilizations. Civilizations do not clash, but compete.
...The Muslims are the ones who began the clash of civilizations. The Prophet of Islam said: "I was ordered to fight the people until they believe in Allah and His Messenger." When the Muslims divided the people into Muslims and non-Muslims, and called to fight the others until they believe in what they themselves believe, they started this clash, and began this war. In order to start this war, they must reexamine their Islamic books and curricula, which are full of calls for takfir and fighting the infidels.
My colleague has said that he never offends other people's beliefs. What civilization on the face of this earth allows him to call other people by names that they did not choose for themselves? Once, he calls them Ahl Al-Dhimma, another time he calls them the "People of the Book," and yet another time he compares them to apes and pigs, or he calls the Christians "those who incur Allah's wrath." Who told you that they are "People of the Book"? They are not the People of the Book, they are people of many books. All the useful scientific books that you have today are theirs, the fruit of their free and creative thinking. What gives you the right to call them "those who incur Allah's wrath," or "those who have gone astray," and then come here and say that your religion commands you to refrain from offending the beliefs of others?
...The Jews have came from the tragedy (of the Holocaust), and forced the world to respect them, with their knowledge, not with their terror, with their work, not their crying and yelling.... 15 million people, scattered throughout the world, united and won their rights through work and knowledge. We have not seen a single Jew blow himself up in a German restaurant...
...The Muslims have turned three Buddha statues into rubble. We have not seen a single Buddhist burn down a Mosque, kill a Muslim, or burn down an embassy. Only the Muslims defend their beliefs by burning down churches, killing people, and destroying embassies. This path will not yield any results. The Muslims must ask themselves what they can do for humankind, before they demand that humankind respect them."

Hat tips:
www.rightwingnews.com
www.littlegreenfootballs.com

The Deal With Politics

2006-02-23T18:11:00.000-08:00

The problem with our government and politics today is that some time ago, and with ever increasing severity, the minority of our two-party system spends its time abusing the majority at all opportunities. The objective of this behavior is also changing from merely attempting to affect voters in the next election. Now the minority’s goals are extended to raising as many issues as possible so that the majority must spend almost all their time, and energy dealing with them, reserving little or none to continue work leading and attempting to improve the situation of the country. This is an inherently self-destructive tendency, and at least partially contributable to world media and global information technologies. The spread of ideas and information continues to accelerate exponentially. The impossibility of stopping all false information from being dispersed globally, added to the need for governments to protect certain information from public knowledge sums up to making the minorities goal almost too easy now that they can use their influence to gain control of the outlets dispersing global information and create bias in the way stories are presented by withholding certain information or flat out lying.

That is not a partisan statement. The Republicans did it to when Democrats were in power, but the Democrats now are the latest (and because of that) best at it.

Panama Fifty-five JUMP!

2005-08-29T11:16:00.000-07:00

This past weekend I went with Nate the Roommate and his friends to Dewey Beach in Delaware. I guess I can probably call them my friends by now too, since I have been hanging out with them sporadically for about two years now. At any rate - the weekend on the whole was incredible. We had a nice guy-girl mix, and everyone was 100% into having fun. There is nothing worse than going on a vacation with people who aren't up to speed on the requisite booze-hounding required to make a vacation truly memorable. I mean sitting on the beach and getting some sun is fine, but don't just sit there, DRINK SOMETHING!!!

Now let's get down to the meat of this post: The Sand Palace Motel. The SPM has a few great things going for it. First of all it's like a 3 minute walk to the beach. Secondly they have a decently clean pool (for post beach rinsing). Thirdly their rooms are clean. From here it goes downhill for SPM. Let's start with the paintings hanging above the beds. In one of our rooms there was an interesting colored pencil on parchment print that is quite easily the most disturbing colored pencil work I have ever seen. There is simply no way that I will ever believe that the artists intention when creating this monstrosity was not to scare the shit out of little kids. Upon first glance it looks like an innocent enough painting. There appear to be some little children surrounded by oversized stuffed toys and pets. But upon closer inspection a few things start to seem noticably awry. The first thing that set off my alarm was the little doggy in the lower right hand corner. His mouth is agape, as if in a bark/howl. And he is showing all of his teeth. Two of these teeth are very long and pointy. I know that dogs are supposed to have fanglike teeth, but this mofo was definitely decendant of sabre -toothed tigers (can dogs be decendant of cats?). This dog is also strapped into a harness of some sort, and I am not sure if this next part is attached to that harness or not, but there are definitely wheels attached to his feet. Yeah. Wheels. We called him Vampire Roller Dog. Like a mix between Bela Lugosi and Heather Graham. (if you don't get those references too bad) So aside from the terrifying paintings what is so bad about SPM? I can sum it up for you in two words: Sammy Hagar. The night manager of this dump is of the exact stature, and sports the same haircut as the infamous Van Halen stopgap. And if this ass isn't fronting a major Van Halen cover band, then he has even more issues than I originally gave him credit for (that is to say more issues than one who would front a Van Halen cover band as a Sammy stand in rather than David - which is a substantial plethora of issues to begin with I assure you). So what is my real problem with Sammy (I do not, nor do I care, to learn the real name of this guy, so he will be heretofore refered to simply as: "Sammy") As I was saying: My real problem with Sammy is that ... how do I put this ... he is a stark mad raving lunatic. At about 4am Sunday morning, after a night of drinking that was impressive even for this groups standards, a couple of our friends passed out in one of the hotel rooms with the keys inside. After pounding on the door for at least 15 minutes we decided that we needed to take no for an answer on this plan of attack, and move on to more cerebral tactics to gain access. So it was decided that we needed to enlist the help of the night manager to bust out his master key and let us the F back into our room. Sammy was visibly displeased from the get-go. It seems he had been monitoring our behavior since our arrival the day before and was unimpressed with our conduct and suspicious that we were housing more than our reported 2 people per room (which of course we were). So Sammy busts out his 2 foot long mag-lite and waddles up to our room. He opens the door and finds our 2 friends asleep. "Looks like a lot of bags in here for two people!" he exclaims. Immediately, Sammy strides past us at a rate much quicker than I anticipated his stubby legs could propel him, right up to our other room's door. This door was not locked - not even shut all the way because a couple people were in there resting there eyes. Sammy blasts the door open with a swift pudgy footed kick, brings his flashlight/club up and scans the room where he again finds only two people. Visibly agitated that he couldn't catch us in the act of housing more than our prescribed alotment of guests he begins to harangue us about paying the additional monies anyway because he could tell by the bags that we had too many people in each room, plus he had some "proof" on video tape (unless he had been sneaking around with a camcorder this was a load of shit, because I am in the strict habit of searching for suveillance cameras anywhere I hang out (when you hang out with people who have the insane tendencies of my friends you become aware of this shit). Long story short, after I purposely sprayed beer in Sammy's general direction whilst he was extorting us, I was forbidden by my friends from having any more contact with the already irate singer stand-in. And that was the last I remember on the subject. I found out the next day that we had to pay an additional 70 bucks or something, which I find incredibly ridiculous since we were already paying $190 a night per room. (The fucking Ritz-Carlton in West Palm charges $240 a night). So that along with the puke smell that seemed to assault us periodically around the premisis, is why I will no longer be patronizing the Sand Palace Motel in Dewey Beach Delaware. Sammy Hagar Sucks.

Cause I am whoreish like that

2005-08-16T07:22:00.000-07:00

If you comment he will write.

OK so I got an anonymous comment saying that some people actually read this filth that I spew forth every now and then. That is just the kind of encouragement I need to get off my own ass and produce a higher level of flith. Or at least more frequent filth. I need a headline banner for this blog. I am thinking something incorporating "Will Write For Comments." A sign with that slogan drapped over a particularly skanky looking prostitute would be very apt. Cause let's be honest here people. The only reason we bloggers (and I use that term to describe myself very loosely) do this is for attention. Yes we are all attention grabbing whores who think we have some sort of talent. And the comments you guys post are like the life giving crack, or twenty bucks a cheap hooker gets. The equation goes something like this: If comments = crack, then posts = toothy BJs.

I spent this past weekend with a bunch of college buddies down at the Jersey Shore where one of my pals lives. We spent the whole weekend on the beach playing volleyball and tubing or boogie boarding in the surf. Irene must have been churning pretty hard core out there because the waves were particularly intense. I don't think I have experienced waves that strong on the east coast ever. Some kids had this huge tube and there were using it to ride waves into the shore, but since the waves were so violent and big all they accomplished was getting pounded into the sand as the wave broke. This did not, however, stop them from continuing, nor did it stop other people from asking for rides. The guys were particularly excited to get girls on the tube because about 40% of the time tops were comming off.

I can't remember the last time I laughed as much in a three day span, as I did this past weekend. My abs were actually sore monday from the laughing. I also can't remember the last time I drank so much in a three day span. Friday night we thought it was a good idea to jump in the lagoon and try to swim out to the bay. That lasted about 100 yds until I was stung by a jellyfish and we realized that we were surrounded by a multitude of underwater luminescent orbs. I have never swum so hard in my life - threatening to leave good friends behind if they didnt get their asses in gear. Have you ever heard about the cure for jellyfish stings that involves urine? I had actually heard about it before that memorable Friends episode. All I have to say about it is - it works. And yes I can now say I have intentionally pissed on myself.

My beloved Steelers began their preseason last night with a win over the Filthadelphia Shit-Birds. Sorry to any Philly fans (or residents) but I went to Penn State as a Steelers fan, and if I have to hear you guys prove that you can spell or teams name in unison one more time, I am going to stab someone. I really have nothing against Philly. My little brother lives and works there now. He is set up in Manayunk and I have a blast every time I visit.

This post is going to be all over the place so you guys can just deal with it. Now for the political side.

Have you been reading about this Cindy Sheehan character? The one who paid the ultimate price of losing her son to the war in Iraq, and is now camped outside Bush's ranch in Texas? Yeah you know the one I am talking about. She is a bitch. I am sorry but it has to be said. Her entire family, including her husband who is now seperated from her because of her actions have written numerous letters denouncing her activities and her views. She is prostituting the highest honor a citizen can achieve to promote her own agenda. An agenda, by the way, which is the complete antithesis of that which belonged to her son who served two tours of duty in Iraq. A man who signed up to put his life on the line for his country and the betterment of the world as a whole. I have a friend at work. He is a man that I respect more than I could ever put into words. He earned a Purple Heart when the Marine chopper he was in was shot down in Vietnam, and his son - also a Marine - was killed by an IED in Iraq toward the end of last year. I didn't know what position I should take on the Cindy Sheehan issue until I mentioned it to him. I have never seen a man change demeanor so quickly. This is a man who took a discharge from the Marines after his son died to save the mother of his child the possibility of losing the second of the two most important men in her life to a war. He politely told me through obvious restraint that this woman is a disgrace to all military family. There you have it. That is all I need to hear. Cindy Sheehan - Please go home.

2005-07-28T09:09:00.000-07:00

Hello! It has been quite some time since I have made a post. However, I know I don't have any regular readers - definitely none who comment regularly - so I know I am not dissappointing anyone by not updating very often. Beyond that I have been so friggin busy at work lately that posting regularly has been all but an impossibility.

Anyway - Here we are in the last week of July, 2005. NASA is in the air (space?) again, well kinda. The launch on Tuesday went well, but we are yet again in NO FLY status. It looks like the country wide heat wave may finally be at an end after almost three straight weeks of 90+ degree temperatures in many places including good old Charm City (Baltimore for those of you from ANYWHERE else). The baseball season is moving in to it's final quarter, and FOOTBALL is just around the corner!!! GET UP! Karl Rove is still employed in the White House as GW's Deputy Chief of Staff (that is Josh Lyman's post in The West Wing), even though all Democrats everywhere are convinced he outed Valerie Plame as a CIA agent and probably single handedly lost us the war on terrorism, invented land mines, and strangled a bunch of puppies to death.

Just a warning - This blog may start to have some more political content in posts to come. I don't know if my increasing interest in these subjects in more due to my increasing maturing (doubtful and dreadful), or the fact that I work in an industry tied very directly to government and politics on both a national and global scale. And as further warning I am definitely right leaning in my views, and I will not be shy at presenting them here. Fear not however, I do not consider myself to be radical in any sense, and I temper my opinions with as much information gathered from leftist sources as palatable (yes "palatable" makes that qualification very subjective, however with the current state of the Democratic party I find myself less and less able to get through the tripe and BS that I read from that side).

Qualifiers:
Gay Marriage - Pro
War on Terror - Pro
War in Iraq - Pro
Abortion - Pro
John Roberts - Pro (not resoundingly so - stay away from Roe V Wade, John)
Abu Graihb Practices - Pro
Gitmo Practices - Pro
Hillary Clinton for President - Con, oh my God, CON!
Bill Clinton AS President - Pro
British Police shooting persons attempting to evade them and board mass transit while wearing parkas in July - Pro
Global Caliphate - uh, Con
Any global ruling religious body - Con

For me the Jury is still out on the Rove case. I think that the truth, as per usual, lies somewhere between the two stories. I do however, believe that there are for more important stories that the mainstream media should be covering right now: Has anyone noticed that the AFL-CIO is breaking up? HELLO!?!?

OK so I am no pundit, but if everyone else can spout off there opinion, I am going to do the same.

PREVIOUS POST UPDATE - I made a post earlier about Oprah being denied entry to some jewelry boutique after hours. It seems that people are saying now that she was kept out because she looked questionable. I have read reports that she was a mess as far as personal upkeep is concerned, and that to me is adequate reason to be kept out of a high price store. However, I also heard that she may have been kept out because she is black and the store had been having trouble recently with North Africans - that, of course is a whole other bag of potatoes. So I am just saying - maybe I jumped the gun a little bit with my earlier post. I just want to keep you informed.

A Travesty, really.

2005-06-24T13:03:00.000-07:00

I am of the opinion that pretty much all celebrities are so detached from the world the rest of us live in that they have no real concept of what it is to be an actual person. The latest and most glaring example of my personal pet peeve is in this article.

As it turns out Oprah Winfrey was not allowed into a store. I KNOW, I KNOW!! PLEASE CALM DOWN!! When I first read the headline link on yahoo.com ("Oprah Winfrey humiliated by Paris boutique snub") I thought maybe there was a real racism issue. Maybe she wasn't dressed to code - I don't know.

So there is this shop in Paris - Hermès. Normal? Check.

They have a regular closing time of 6:30pm. Normal? Check.

If you arrive after this time, even 15 minutes after this time, you will not be allowed in. Normal? Check.

If Oprah is not allowed in to Hermès shop in Paris 15 minutes after the closing time at 6:30pm it is an international incident. Normal? WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!??!?!

Why do we even need an article written about this? Tom Cruise (as if we don't already have enough evidence that this guy has finally gone completely off the deep end in theatrical double flip - 4 and a half twist swan dive fashion) is on record regarding the situation thusly: "I know that those kinds of people are not the majority," he said. "For that happen to Oprah, we all love Oprah. Oprah is such a great woman. I'm sorry that happened. I'll call her tomorrow." What? What kinds of people? The ones who are paid to manage a store by its predesigned rules? The ones who can TELL TIME? Who really gives a flying flipping shit if Oprah gets to the store after it closes? Yeah Tom, go ahead give her a call, you can share your story about the time those fuckers at the chinese restaurant wouldn't waive their "absolutely no substitutions" rule.Oprah has described the occurence herself as "one of the most humiliating incidents" of her life. Well Oprah, I think that pretty much says it all. I think after that statement I can pretty much tune you the fuck out every time you start to talk about embarrassment, because it is clear that on this particular subject you don't know your ass from a hole in the ground.

Racially profiled by a cop and made to pull over and perform a DUI test? - Humiliating

Giving a speech to a crowded auditorium, and very audibly farting? - Embarrassing

Puking on your date? - EmbarrassingHaving a story printed around the world that you claimed to be humiliated for not being allowed into a closed store? - EMBARRASSING!!!!!!!!

It is truly a sad state of affairs when rules are now so routinely broken for celebtrities that they go beyond just being upset themselves to the extreme of actually providing quotes to media outlets voicing their rage. They now use another "taken for granted" perk of being able to have their message spread across the globe for free - to bad mouth an establishment that only did exactly what it has the right to do. What about the commission paid salesman who needs a train ticket to Albaqurque but arrives 15 minutes late? What about the welfare Mom who arrives at the grocery store 15 minutes late?

Let's get our god damn priorities fucking straight. Check your watch you fat cow, and get there early next time, and if you are ever late someplace again don't waste our motherfucking time complaining that the rules weren't bent for you. Just smile politely thank them for their time and go home to count your money. Ass-hat.

Melting botox Mesh shorts and Soot, yes Soot.

2005-06-14T12:43:00.000-07:00

Ladies and Gentlemen I have an announcement to make. It is officially hot in Baltimore, Maryland. How hot? Glad you asked, friend. Today they cancelled school for the second time in as many weeks because it is so hot they are afraid third graders might sponateously burst into flames while hop-scotching (or is it "hopping-scotch"? do kids still hop-scotch?). I looked out my office window an hour ago and rocks were melting into magma right across the street. An old lady was getting ready to get into her car and when she opened the door the heat blast from inside melted the botox right out of her face. It is days like this that I am glad that my company has really expensive computing equipment which requires that indoor tempuratures never rise above 68 degrees farenheit.

My home on the other hand is a completely different story. We have a pretty nice air conditioner, and it does a fairly good job of keeping the 1st floor of our home cool, even though it runs constantly day and night. The problem comes in when a pesky little law of environmental physics rears its ugly head. You see, faithful readers: heat rises. Not only that, but in my house heat rises and concentrates itself in my room, on my bed, directly under my covers. The heat is constantly set on "hell" in my room. You can feel the shift at about the 5th step on your way upstairs, and it only gets worse until you are laying directly on the surface of the sun. I sleep right under a ceiling fan in nothing but red mesh short - not even underwear! But the body heat generated by my pumping heart and flexing diaphram is no match for such paltry defenses.

At about 11:15pm last night I decided that I had enough. I was going to solve this problem even if i had to macguyver a cooling system using nothing but toilet paper rolls, hangers, and fat from the George Foreman Grill. Is our Wal-Mart open this late? Because I was fully prepared to make a midnight run for a fan wearing nothing but my aforementioned red mesh shorts. I didn't want to risk the wasted trip though because recently I realized that not all Wal-Marts are open 24hrs, (A painful realization that I will save for another post) and if it WERE closed I would still be faced with the time consuming task of building my makeshift grill fat air conditioner. The thought seriously crossed my mind that I might wander the streets looking for an AC unit or fan placed in a reachable window which I could gank. Although I didn't want to be put in the position of dealing with the streets carrying said object while barefoot and wearing my red mesh shorts. Many might find that a case worth investigating like wandering drunks, 13 year old drug dealers, our neighborhood singing crazyman, and cops - none of which I was in the mood to deal with at the time. (these, by the way are all thoughts that are going through my head now that I have resolved to do something about the heat, even though I had yet to sit up or even turn on a light - and all this excessive thinking had started making me sweat <--- not a joke). So I got out of bed and started scouring the house to find maleable fodder for my invention. I decided that I would venture into "The Basement." Now I have not said much on here about our basement, but let me assure you that it is ... how should I say ... peculiar. There are certain things that the basement lacks, such as, oh I don't know - ceiling, decent lighting, FLOOR! Yes that is right, there is no floor. We have wooden stairs leading down to the rocks and dirt of the Earths upper crust right below our TV room. Half the basement is a disgusting Earthen crawlspace under our kitchen that is home to more then a mentionable amount of disgustingness and death, yes death - death incarnate. Everything in the basement is covered with a thick layer of soot. You may have thought that soot was a thing of the past - a terribly dirty, disease ridden, and thouroughly regretable byproduct of the industrial revolution which has certainly by now been exterminated or at least confined to the most remote industrial parks. If you had thought all that - beyond being an interesting coincidence - you would be wrong. Soot has in fact been hiding in my basement - all of it, every last particle. It's all there waiting - plotting - picking the exact moment when it will rise again to claim the world, this time for good! I proceeded to investigate an interestingly shaped pile of soot when I realized what it was covering: A FAN!! I grabbed the disgusting thing and retreated up the stairs before the soot could organize and claim my life. Back in the kitchen I pondered my find. This thing was friggin DISGUSTING! It was absolutely COVERED in dust. If I plugged this sucker in it would release a cloud that could block out the sun for days (which might not have been such a bad idea because it may have cooled off after that). I pictured setting this thing on my night stand but the thought of all that shit blowing onto my bed almost made me puke right there, so I grabbed a screwdriver and began to dissassemble for cleaning. The inside was even worse! It looked like this fan had been decommissioned because in its last use it murdered a long haired cat. It took me 30 minutes a full roll of paper towels and a bottle of cleaner to get this sucker straightened out. When I finally got in bed I kicked on the fan and laid back. Totally fucking worth it! Now I am just worried about the soot seeking revenge on me.

Here's how it's done Fortune Fifty style.

2005-06-09T14:49:00.000-07:00

"How much is it gonna cost? How long will it take? I understand how much it will cost. I understand how long it will take. How are we gonna do it? How much is it gonna cost? Here is how much money you have to do it. It might cost less? Gimmie some of that money back. How much is it gonna cost? How much is THAT gonna cost? How MUCH is that gonna cost? HOW much is that gonna cost? How long will it take? How much IS that gonna cost? How much is that GONNA cost? How much is that gonna COST? How long will it take? OK. Nevermind gimmie some of that money back. How much is this gonna cost? Do it for less. Do it for less, and also do this. How much is this gonna cost? OK we are doing this instead now. How long will it take? How much is can it cost? HOW MUCH CAN IT COST!?!?! OK. How much can it cost? Gimmie some of that money back. Do it for this much. Are you ready to start? We are almost ready to start. Aaaaaaanyyyyy miiiiiinuuuuuuuute nooooooow..... WHY AREN'T YOU DONE YET??!?! Hurry up! Are you done yet? Are you done yet? GOOD GOD WHY AREN'T YOU DONE YET!?!? It cost us how much? It COST us how much? It cost US how much? It cost us how MUCH? It cost us HOW much? IT COST US HOW MUCH!?!?! Why didn't you tell me it was gonna cost that much? You did? shit."

Gettin' Busy

2005-06-07T11:37:00.000-07:00

OK, those of you who know me personally (which probably makes up >95% of my readership at this point) know that my Father is paralyzed. He is essentially a quardiplegic, but can with some effort write and feed himself. The accident (read: touch football game) that rendered this condition happened on October 1, 2002. In the immediate aftermath of the accident, my family set about renovating the basement in our home to accomodate my father's new mechanized wheelchair. The basement became my dad's domain. The two stories above were all but off limits thanks to environment and architecture. Granted this situation was not ideal, but we are a family of incredible resolve and love, and we have dealt with this tragedy in a way that can only be described as miraculous, and based entirely in my mother's toughness and devotion.

Now a note about my Dad. Hal is not a man who likes to relax. For instance; the 15 to 20 minutes of TV that my Father watched per day prior to the accident were all consumed while STANDING UP and at no more than 3 minute intervals while moving from room to room. We lived on a half acre lot with a STEEP slope which was mowed at least once a week, and even more after heavy rains when it was obvious that the extra nourishment had kickstarted growth an unacceptable 1/8th inch. Flowerbeds: our yard has multiple, all healthily mulched. (by the way don't think that this propencity for busy work was restricted to himself - my siblings and I all suffered our proximity to the Restless Wonder) Anyway back to the mulch. Normal people order mulch from a nursery or what have you. It is delivered in a big pile on the driveway then one goes about the cumbersome task of spreading it from that central location - usually with no small amount of vocalization on the difficulty of the task. My dad, however, takes mulching very seriously. He makes his own. Yeah you read that right - being my father's son I could speak at length on the practices and theories behind creating a good mulch for your flower beds. (what a good husband I will make some lucky lady) One summer my father broke down and decided the lawn needed a real kicker so he ordered 15 tons of mushroom manure to be spread over every square inch of our yard. This steaming pile of fungal shit was delivered in not one but TWO truck loads. My dad then proceeded to line the yard off into squares about 2' x 2' and commanded his three children to get empty dry wall mud buckets (a previous task) and put a bucket of mushroom manure in every square. Go ahead and do the math, but I assure you - subtracting room for the actual house driveway, patio, flowerbeds, trees, etc that was around 3000 squares. Our yard looked like the scene in Alice In Wonderland where she comes up to the checkerboard field. It took us days upon days. We still refer to the ordeal as The Great Mushroom Manure Fiasco. Friends I have from college will not believe the story until they meet my parents for confirmation. These are the lengths my father and to a lesser extent my mother (she's an enabler) pursue in order to cultivate their yard and home. I am seriously an expert on child labor laws because in my childhood I took it upon myself to be as learned in the field as possible because I was POSITIVE the treatment we endured was illegal.

Soooooo... Fast forward to near present time.

Somewhere along the line it became evident that a new house was in order. This purchase was not going to be easy because at the time of the accident my parents had one kid about to graduate college (me), one kid in the middle (Michael), and another kid just about to start (Michelle). Not the epitome of financial circumstance one hopes find themself in when shopping for a new home. They did it anyway. And don't doubt me when I say that the prospect of cultivating an entirely new property to their will was the deciding factor in the purchase. My parents have lived in the new house for some time now. And being the loving parents they are, they want me to come and visit as much as possible. And being the sucker that I am, I do it. The lists, oh the lists. I will get one and scan it to put on here as soon as I figure that out (previous post) just so you can see what I am up against here. The amount of earth that I have already moved around that lot would make a backhoe blush. This latest visit home for Memorial Day my dad started kicking around the idea of having me take down a "small" tree in the back yard. We went out to take a look, and I am not kidding you, Sequoias CAN GROW in south western Pennsylvannia. The MFer is the Goliath of trees. If a rock and a sling can't fell this bitch, then there is no other way. And the best part is there is about a 4 foot swath of real estate that my father expects me to drop this sucker on. "Between the two hemlocks, Matt - Try not to break any branches." Hey dad how about you settle for me not killing myself and the 40 people who live in the shadow of this behemoth? No joke, I think this thing might be protected by some historical society. It may be visible from space. If you feel the earth shake a little bit over fourth of July weekend, please check back here afterward to see if I have survived or not.

If it's Friday, then why are we sober?

2005-06-03T11:18:00.000-07:00

Hello sports fans! We have another Friday upon us! What does that mean? Well I'm glad you asked. What it means for me can be illustrated in this simple equation:

((no work tomorrow+sleeping in) * (plenty 'o booze (friends)) = Party Time / TGIF

I know that this is advanced abstract mathematics, but you're picking up what I'm putting down.

Now let's take this time to look at what it means to party.

For some of us a party is an excuse to drink a minimum of infinity beers (somehow that is a minimum), black out (or time travel, as I like to call it), and wake up naked next to a stranger in a pool of hard - previously melted chocolate with a feather duster, furry handcuffs, a blindfold, and a saddle complete with whipping switch. I might have gotten a little carried away with that fantasy, but it could happen!

For others a party is just a small group of friends getting together to have a few drinks.

I realize that there is a plethora of party particulars in between those two extremes, and I further realize I am discounting parties that do not include alcohol, but for purposes related to this article, and REAL fun, those gatherings will not be included in this discussion.

So on the extreme end (endeavors which most of us remember in our college days) we have a situation that most responsible adults would consider wanton, irresponsible, and excessive. While on the conservative end you have your usual middle aged get together with friends, that is considered a nice use of time and usually includes several canes, and more than one walker.

The elder partiers continually decrying the lack of ethics, morals, and self control exhibited by their young counterparts, while the young simply look back with compassionate stares as if to say: "You poor oldies, I hope you don't break your hips playing that crazy game of bridge."

I am here to argue that deep down it is not really a moral stance that makes older people appreciate the quieter party more. NO NO NO! As I approach mid to late twentyhood I am beginning to realize that I am beginning to (GASP!) appreciate the quieter party. And I'll be damned if I will sit here and let anyone tell me my morals are improving! Don't you dare! You dirty motherfu..... Anyway... Alas I have found that my body just can't keep up with that kind of debauchery. (although the aforementioned exteme situation minus the infinity beers still sounds enticing) I think what happens to us as we get older is that we begin to lose our physical ability to party hardy. Indeed we can no longer partake in what the Beastie Boys dubbed as the "Fight for your right..." As this fact settles in on us we begin to resent the younger generations who are still drinking 30 kegs in a sitting, and going on 72 hours benders with no sleep. Internally we agonize over the joys we can no longer experience. And finally instead of comming out and admitting that we are just too old to enjoy life in that way anymore, we cover it up. We talk down on the crazy parties. We condemn the wild actions we see and by extension the wild actions of our youth. This bitter ruse only continues and intensifies as we get older until finally, as is the case with most lies that are told for too long, we believe it ourselves. And at that point all is lost. At that terrible point of no return we will never again be able to drink till we puke and still enjoy it. So I say unto you now, oh partiers from times gone by, oh bingers of yore, DO NOT go quietly into that cold dark night. Fight Back! Cry Havoc! and unleash the dogs of war! Go out tonight with your good old buddies and drink until you can't sit straight. Don't stop until you need solid architecture for support both moral and physical. Make sure your night includes several rounds of prayer to the porcelain god, and ends in some state of undress in a strange place - preferably with a strange person. Once you have done this, come back tomorrow and tell me how it was. You won't be sorry!

I'm not taking my own advice though, drinking that much is crazy - and morally bankrupt.

Where's the funny?

2005-06-02T12:52:00.000-07:00

OK so it isn't the funniest blog on the planet, but I assure you that I can be funny. I have just been having issues lately. Not funny or unfunny related issues, just plain issues with the fact that I forgot the funny somewhere along the line. It will come back to me I am sure. Until then just you practice your damn laughing.

No Pics for You! and other reasons why I'm not as smart as I thought I was.

2005-05-27T07:40:00.000-07:00

Are you a smart person? You'd like to think you are, wouldn't you? So would I. I have gone through much of my adult life with the erroneous assumption that my intelligence was somewhere above that of a lobotomized aardvark with down syndrome. Alas, it is not so! Somehow I am a fake! I got a B.S. from a top 100 college (Logistics, Penn State, 03) in 4 years. While there I easily passed calculus and physics while playing baseball (2 years anyway) and partying no less than 4 nights a week. I convinced a Fortune 50 company to trust me with millions of dollars (suckers). And after all this and I cannot figure out how to get pictures on this blog. Well that is not entirely true, as the photo of Andy Kaufman on my profile proves. However, the only way I could get that to work was to go around the system and link from another website I created at Geocities. At the risk of sounding Seinfeldesque: What is the DEAL with these pics? (or: No pics for you!). Not to worry, however, my friend Katie (www.ktlou.blogspot.com) assured me she would help out. So soon your eyes will behold the myriad of dazzling images I have in store for you. They will be a delight for your ocular nerve, a cornucopia of beautiful sights captured through the miracle of modern photography. A regular triumph of f-stop and shutter speed (see: www.ratemypoop.com).

I just read an article on CNN.com(http://www.cnn.com/2005/AUTOS/05/26/drivers_study/index.html) which shows that drivers in the northeast are the dumbest on the road. A few days ago I would have met this news with only the wittiest of retorts: Duhhhhh! But now after the recent revelation regarding my own stupidity I have to wonder: am I one of those stupid drivers? Anyone who knew me in high school must have a take on this, and I am afraid on average, that it would not bode well for me. You see I am the guy who caused a 4 car accident on my way to a baseball game (that I was supposed to start on the mound) in which 3 cars, including my own, were totalled. I was driving my parents 1984 Dodge Caravan, affectionately nicknamed "The Wobble" by my friends and I after realizing its ability to literally wobble in a violent fashion when the wheel was jerked from side to side - due to it's high center of gravity and questionable shock and strut integrity. (looking back on the fact that I knew this about my car, and demonstrated it often enough to warrant a nickname also does not bode well for my intelligence) So am I just another in the indeterminate throng of assholes who pilot their vehicles along our nation's (especially the Northeast's) highways, unmindful of the traffic around me, and how best to manuever so as to achieve my destination efficiently, yet maintain a safe tact? Apparently not. So as I prepare to make yet another 250 mile trek between Baltimore and Pittsburgh along with the millions of other drivers taking to the roads this holiday weekend, I have only this to say: For the safety of all of us, stay the hell out of my way.

Goodbye Home

2005-05-26T10:13:00.000-07:00

I'm in another one of those stretches of time where the drive between Baltimore and Pittsburgh is more my home than anyplace else. That 250 mile stretch of highway is kind of like a warp between my two lives. I usually spend the 4 hour trip listening to some book on tape - which, by the way is definitely THE BEST way to pass the time of a long trip, especially if you are making it on your own. Anyway back to the point at hand. This Memorial Day weekend is abounding with multiple meanings for me. I don't want to take away from the real reason for the holiday and I have more respect for our men and women in the military than I could ever put into words, but this Memorial Day is going to have some interesting connotations.

My parents have sold our hold house. Finally ... Already ... whichever describes the feeling more, I am not sure. A lot of this weekend will be spent taking care of a couple loose ends before they close, and another family moves into the house that has been my home for 17 years. I have been there a few times since my parents moved out, but it is kind of heartbreaking. All the furniture is gone - even the refrigerator, washer, and dryer. When I walk inside the emptiness almost crushes me. The day we moved out - that is right it took us one day - I felt like I was abandoning a friend. 17 years of memories, and stuff, and dust all sucked out in less than 14 hours. So this weekend I am going back to my old friend. No triumphant return is this. No glorious waltz back into its arms. I am going back to prop it up, fix a few cosmetic blems, so that the new family is satisfied with it and the sale can be closed. I feel like I am going back to a dog I left abandoned on the side of the road, and when I get there, after the happy barking and excited dancing and licking of my face I tie a bow around its neck, pet it on the head and walk away again.

This development is definitely all for the best. My parents, while not exactly poor, definitely can't afford to own two houses in Peters Township, Pennsylvania, and the 6 months they have been doing it so far can't have been easy. There aren't any bad guys in this story, just a sad goodbye that is giving my 2005 Memorial Day a little something extra.

Come on People

2005-05-24T08:05:00.000-07:00

OK this doesn't count as a real post, but those of you who know me personally should not feel that you have to leave anonymous messages. You can use mattythedude@hotmail.com to write me so that I know who you are, or you can leave your name with the comment on the blog. Help me out here!

The Plates of Maryland

2005-05-20T06:35:00.000-07:00

Well I finally have my real metal Maryland license plates. There are two of them, by the way, an interesting requirement that I have yet to fully understand. I guess it is for people with exceptional ESP or whatever. They see a Maryland registered vehicle comming toward them - "This car is about to do something illegal, MUST MEMORIZE LICENSE PLATE!" Then they are promptly run over. Good, I hope it hurt. You'll have to forgive my cynicism and outright meanness, as I am sure you will when you hear this horror story.

Let me start off by saying that I realize that this situation is ENTIRELY my fault. Please do not waste your time in bringing this fact to my attention, because all you will get for your troubles is a severe beating. Anyway - I have lived in Maryland for almost two years now. I began this chapter in my life with the family Dodge Intrepid, which my father sold to me at a very reasonable price. It was a 1994 model, and had a lot of memories packed into it. That was the car I learned to drive in. That was the car I first "parked" in (by the way I learned a really cool trick with the seat reclining lever that always elicited excitement from the subject). I digress, I apologize. Anyway the Intrepid finally died on me last November, after spending $3,000 to rebuild the transmission last February. The point of this story thus far being that from October 2003 to November 2004 I still had Pennsylvania plates. Sooooooo in November I picked up a very nice used later model Jeep Cherokee (only because I couldn't yet afford the Infiniti FX45...someday.....). The gist of this situation being that I had to sever my final remaining ties to the state of my birth. There was simply no way I could avoid getting Maryland plates - BUT WAIT!! It seems that when you buy a car in Maryland they issue you this silly nondescript paper "temporary plate." These plates "expire" about 2-3 months later (that date for me being 1-12-05) (what is "expire" anway? Isn't it just a suggestion? A guideline? I mean, come on! you have my info on record, why isn't this good enough? You just want more of my money, and to sadle me with not one but TWO silly plates) but at least this plate wasn't the ugly white "Maryland" plate fused to both the front and back sides of my car like a pair of hideous omnipresent bookends screaming to the world that not only am I from the state of Maryland, but I want to be absolutely sure that everyone can quickly identify my license plate number from either side of my car just in case I step outside the norm and decide to have some friggin fun in your bass-ackwards state.

So let's fast forward to this past Wednesday. (5-18-05) 4 months and three days POST-expiration of my wonderful little paper license plate (that cost me nothing). I am driving to work. It is a nice sunny day. I had just shaved off my beard the night before and was feeling good about the new look. What is this? A burgundy Ford Crown-Victoria hesitating in my blind spot? Interesting. Oh what now, pray tell? This vehicle is slowing to sidle up behind me? Why you playful minx, HAHA! OK I'll speed up to ease your manuever. What is that peculiar blue light on your dashboard? Not good.

Officer Dicknose proceeds to inform me that my license plate has expired. (Excellent work officer, with math skills like that you'll make detective in no time) But here comes the kicker. It seems that it is illegal to drive an unregistered car in Maryland. And since my plates are expired my car is technically unregistered. This next part is where I really started to get mad. This guy is now telling me that I can't drive my car to the MVA to get my plates. Not only that, but I can't even drive my car home! I can't drive my car PERIOD, until I get license plates. As I have recently lost my Supermanesque powers of flight and super speed, this presents somewhat of a Catch-22. As Officer Dicknose proceeds to phone a tow truck to take my car back to my house, I begin to realize the brilliance of old rap lyrics by Ice T and Easy E. I just don't get this! It is illegal to drive a car that has broken tail lights or headlights, but Johnny Law over here isn't calling a tow truck for those guys! What the hell is this!!?? Officer Dicknose then hands me two tickets totalling about $330 in fines, and a towing bill for $180, all on top of the $160 I will have to pay for plates TODAY if I plan on actually making it to work tomorrow - which would be a good idea since I was forced to call my boss 45 minutes AFTER I was supposed to be at work and tell him that I couldn't make it in that day because Officer Dicknose here is impounding my friggin car.

So now I have Maryland license plates. One on the back with a Penn State Alumni holder, and one of the front with a Pittsburgh Steelers holder. If I had more anti-Maryland equipment I would be displaying it proudly. I would also like to point out that this state is already sucking me dry in real-estate. If I paid rent in Pittsburgh (ahh wonderful Pittsburgh) as high as I pay here in Baltimore I would be living in a 4 bedroom PALACE with 3 and a half baths, and enough lawn to have a catch every now and then, but instead I inhabit a rundown 2 bedroom townhouse with an earthen basement, a rat problem, and surrounded by concrete as far as the eye can see - but that is a story for another post. Until then, keep your license plates current, and be sure to flick off the next Maryland State Trooper that you see.

Let's Get Retarded In Here

2005-05-17T08:26:00.000-07:00

What a weekend. This one had it all. Kirk and I ventured the 4 hour drive from Baltimore to our hometown of Pittsburgh this weekend. I took off half days on Friday and Monday to elongate the experience. I started the 265 mile journey with 70 miles already on my trip odometer which I reset at every full tank of gas. Usually I get about 300 miles to a tank, but this trip I was feeling adventureous. I pulled into good old PT (Peters Township - The Bubble - Hometown) at 350 miles. Needless to say the adrenaline high of that experience carried me through the weekend. I proceeded to Dunn's house where I quickly whipped him mercilessly in billiards. Later that night we got a small group of friends together and went to a house party in the Squirrel Hill area of Pittsburgh. Just as we were leaving the rain began to fall. It came down in those impossibly huge drops you see once in a great while. Those spherical oceans that really thump on the drum head of your car roof. Anyway, we had the priviledge of standing out in this downpour for quite some time while we tried to locate the "raging party." Even after finding the correct house we sat outside on the porch for some time. Unsure of our selection due to the complete lack of party-like noises which we expected to be eminating generously from the abode. (Keep that note in mind because later revelations will involve that fact) So once up in the party things quickly got flowing, namely the beer and jungle juice got flowing down our throats. Games of beer pong and cards were already underway and my band of bingers got right down to business. Dunn and Sipp immediately got down to their old tricks inumerable enemies on the beer pong table, while I at one point stripped down to my boxers, donned a hooded bathrobe while proceeding to run around the apartment pretending to box with another friend. You might think this kind of behavior would warrant removal from the party premesis, however, you don't know my friends. -- This was about the time that the police showed up. Apparently we had been reported for a noise violation. That is right, a noise violation in a college town on a Friday night. "OK dispatch I am about to track down this murderer, but we got a real hot one to deal with first. Seems some fucking punks out in Squirrel Hill have the unabashed gall, the biggest damn balls I have ever seen to think about having a loud party on a Friday night, and to be honest I just can't live with myself until I bust the shit out of those kids!" Meanwhile, this was the same party that I couldn't even FIND FROM THE FRONT PORCH! -- So we get rid of the cops and they don't end up being any more problems because this party went on until about 7am.

The rest of the weekend was very enjoyable, possibly even more so than the first night, but by no means crazier. I won't extend this post unnecessarily with more details of the times we had. Rather I am going to talk more about the importance of setting aside weekends like this to get that crazy. I have told many people that I don't really miss college until I go back and visit. I think that is because you don't really have time to miss things in today's culture. Ask anyone what the fastest year of their life was. Without a doubt I can say that my first year working was the fastest of my life. You get into these routines that don't deviate for weeks at a time. Back in school you woke up and decided what you wanted to do that day. Now you know exactly what you are going to be doing a week from right now - sitting exactly where you are sitting right now, doing almost exactly what you are doing right now. I am not saying these things to depress anyone. I just want to help everyone realize that as we are getting older we are forced to really value our time less and less. Go to all the time-management seminars you want and learn how valuable we are supposed to treat time, but think back to the times you really valued. I bet it was a weekend, or a week at the most. It was a seemingly endless string of time that, sure you can define after the fact as a number, but when you were there in it, in the moment, it was like time travel. You were doing what you wanted to do when you wanted to do it. That is what we all work for. We had it when we were younger. We had it in droves in college just before we lost most of it, before we traded it in for responsibility and maturity. That is what I work for. I have a job that I don't hate, but I don't love either. The American Dream isn't a family, or friends, or bettering yourself. It is the time you spend enjoying those things. So do yourself a favor. Call up a friend and get crazy this weekend. Do whatever you want to do, and drop me a line to tell me about it.

Day Two: Off and Running (well maybe sitting quietly in front of a fan)

2005-05-12T07:56:00.000-07:00

Last night was the first night of the year that I slept under only the sheet for the entire night. It was also the first night that I had to leave the ceiling fan on throughout in order to avoid drowing in my own sweat. Some people don't mind the heat - "well I mind, man. The Dude minds!" Now begins the game of chicken that we play with the air conditioning in our house. The utilization of either the heat or the AC in our place immediately increases our energy bill a minimum of a trillion percent. Ok I took some license with hyperbole in that comment, but the real relationship is something like $90 versus $300. I live in a townhouse that was originally built somewhere around the dawn of man. The earthen basement floor, I'm sure, houses many ancient artifacts like sabre tooth tiger bones, wooly mammoth fur, and vinyls from Pat Boone. The original source of heat was a wood burning stove, which gave way to a heating oil furnace. (the results of which still assault the olfactory senses). Numerous renovations since then have left us with the central heat/air, but a failure to add the necessary infrastructure relegates the machine to a lofty efficiency standard of about -250%. The ultimate question this situation asks is: How important is your comfort? Winston Churchill said, "This is no time for ease and comfort. It is time to dare and endure." Well, I am here to tell you that I will be fighting the good fight. The enemy? Baltimore Gas and Electric. Their weapons? Sweltering heat and the legal ability to charge me absurd amounts of money. I am taking this stand on behalf of my great friend Brian, who is currently living in Thailand while working for the Peace Corps. His last message said it was 112 degrees farenheit at 6pm. The heat was radiating off the page. Poor Kirk fainted just hearing about it. So I am sticking it out in solidarity for my good buddy, and in the name of saving a few bucks (for beer). "The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy." - Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Ok are you sick of diminishing the quotes of great men to the cause of my bitching yet? I thought so, I will stop, but don't worry they will be comming out again in about 5 months when it starts getting friggin' cold.

Genesis of a Blog

2005-05-11T08:32:00.000-07:00

The beginning - El comienzo - Le debut - Der anfang - L'inzio.

And we begin with our hero finally deciding upon the direction that this adventure will take. And that is of course - no direction at all. I will attempt to take the usual idle blog format of relating personal experiences in funny, dramatic, insightful, etc. ways. However, mostly I will succeed in boring any and all readers within an inch of stabbing out their eyes with the nearest sharp instrument - or dull instrument as the case may be. I am not even sure how one would go about finding these blogs (in order to be induced into self ocular mutilation), as it seems to me we are all hidden in a small corner of the web devoted entirely to people, such as myself, who are of the belief that not only do we have something important or worthwhile to say - but that someone out there is actually going to care enough to find it and read it. That being said my final inspiration for beginning this blog stems from my friend Katie, who writes a great blog on the site www.ktlou.blogspot.com

Anyways - Let's get on with introductions. My name is Matt, but I will be refering to myself mostly as "The Dude" in an homage to the cinematic masterpiece "The Big Lebowski". If you have not seen it, I implore you to pick it up. It's a comedic romp following the highs and lows of a modern day bohemian, mostly centering around his centerpiece faux oriental rug, which is peed on. Jeff Bridges, John Goodman, Steve Buschemi, and the incomparable Philip Seymour Hoffman star.

I will also be refering to my dog Albuquerque, whom I call Kirk, and whom exists entirely in my imagination. Kirk is a Newfoundland/Maltese mix. He is very friendly, mostly deaf (which he completely denies), and quite adept at editing most of my work. Editor's Note: I am not deaf.

Other characters will include, but will not be limited to: Nate the roommate; Mike the brother; Dunn the close friend and confidant. We will not be hearing from any of these MFers today however, as I am merely taking this time to BS you all long enough to make a decent first entry. A task at which I am sure I am failing at miserably. Which brings me to my next point! I would like to make this as interactive as possible so please feel free to send me messages of any level of importance or relevance to material covered herein. If I bore the shit out of you, or say something you don't like, or you discover that Matlock was really a good show and you like to watch reruns while formulating other opinions that no one cares about - go ahead and drop me a line about it. Maybe it will make it into my next post. MattyTheDude@hotmail.com Other than that I will let you know that I reside in the Federal Hill area of Baltimore, Maryland. I am sure many of my exploits at the local watering holes there will make their ways into this blog. That is all for the initial posting. I hope it has been entertaining enough to entice you to check back, my target is to post twice a week, but I have never been a very good shot.