The title is taken from one of my favorite Jimmy Eat World songs.
I was thinking about going to a nearby casino this weekend, just for the fun of it. I've never been to one, but I think it would be a fun experience (and maybe even a profitable one) as long as I am smart about it and not greedy. But the casino is in Alabama, were gambling is "illegal". Of course the only way the casino can exist is because it's on a Native American reservation. There are actually a couple of casinos in Alabama because of that loophole.
That got me thinking, and so I started drafting a letter to the Alabama representatives--
Dear Alabama Representatives:
I was wondering why we haven't taken ALL of the (wah-wah) Indians' land yet. I mean, how is it that a small area of land, commonly noted by their big casinos, became so untouchable, so holy? Didn't our ancestors just come in an snatch up the land from the people already here anyway? I'm not a history buff, so I'm not sure how the allotment of land was negotiated. But the question is, why can't we just commandeer those Indian reservations now, just like we did back in the good ole days? We didn't seem to have a problem doing it years ago, so what is our problem now? It seems you guys should have already suggested that, am I right?
Yours truly...
(Of course I speak in a facetious manner, so don't hate me.)
Friday, June 20, 2014
Addiction
"We're all addicted to something." - Thumbsucker (movie)
I was thinking about all the things people are addicted to and made a list:
alcohol, non-prescription drugs, cigarettes, porn, medication, adrenaline, religion, music, fashion, fitting in, being different, losing weight, technology, success, failure, love...
The list goes on and on and on, but the point was clearly made. Excess of something is said to be a bad thing. So, is the person who’s addicted to drugs in just as bad shape as the person addicted to success? In a sense, yes. Success, opposed to non-prescription drugs, is legal, and it’s encouraged and desired. But just watch the movie Wall Street, or just watch the real thing, and you might argue that it should be illegal.
But this isn’t about success. It’s about addiction. We all have it. And we’re all trying to beat it. Or maybe we’re not.
In the case of religion, one may argue that it’s a good thing to be addicted. But look at the everlasting conflict between Israel and Palestine, or go way back to the Crusades, or just consider current issues (i.e., suicide bombers). So, yeah, religion has caused A LOT of problems.
Maybe addiction in all cases IS a bad thing. But if we are all addicted to something, why do we evaluate another person’s addiction and are eager to voice our (dis)approval? To find out the answer on this matter, maybe we should ask the people who are addicted to judging others and the ones addicted to attention…
I was thinking about all the things people are addicted to and made a list:
alcohol, non-prescription drugs, cigarettes, porn, medication, adrenaline, religion, music, fashion, fitting in, being different, losing weight, technology, success, failure, love...
The list goes on and on and on, but the point was clearly made. Excess of something is said to be a bad thing. So, is the person who’s addicted to drugs in just as bad shape as the person addicted to success? In a sense, yes. Success, opposed to non-prescription drugs, is legal, and it’s encouraged and desired. But just watch the movie Wall Street, or just watch the real thing, and you might argue that it should be illegal.
But this isn’t about success. It’s about addiction. We all have it. And we’re all trying to beat it. Or maybe we’re not.
In the case of religion, one may argue that it’s a good thing to be addicted. But look at the everlasting conflict between Israel and Palestine, or go way back to the Crusades, or just consider current issues (i.e., suicide bombers). So, yeah, religion has caused A LOT of problems.
Maybe addiction in all cases IS a bad thing. But if we are all addicted to something, why do we evaluate another person’s addiction and are eager to voice our (dis)approval? To find out the answer on this matter, maybe we should ask the people who are addicted to judging others and the ones addicted to attention…
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
This is Offensive
Why are some people so easily offended? It blows my mind. Yeah, I may be a rare breed because there is probably nothing you can say that I would seriously take offense to, but still, people need to lighten up. No matter your race, sex, or nationality, just take jokes as jokes. Also, you should never take yourself too seriously. I make fun of a lot of people, but I will always be the first one to make fun of myself. Am I saying people should strive to be more like me? Absolutely they should.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Back to Reasonable Temperatures
I just spent five days at the beach with my entire family. I’m not sure when the ceremony is where I get my trophy, but I hope I don’t have to take off work for it. While at the beach, I swam a lot. Not in the ocean but in the pool. I got in the ocean once and saw that I was completely surrounded by seaweed and other debris. I felt like I’d just been flushed down the toilet. I’m pretty sure that’s true because I saw my dreams of being a famous musician float by me before being submerged by a big nasty wave.
The condo complex (Is this even the right term? It sounds weird. Oh well.) has a pond in the middle of it with a little bridge where you can go to feed the various fish (carp, maybe?) and, more importantly, the turtles. Feeding the turtles is a BIG deal for us. It pretty much is a close second in our reasons for going to the beach (I’ll leave you wondering at the number one reason…). And by "us" I really just mean my father. He hails from a long line of turtle feeders. His dad used to walk five miles each day to the local bakery just to get day-old bread to feed nearby turtles. My father’s grandfather LIVED with turtles, studying them and, of course, feeding them bread that he baked himself. My father loves feeding the turtles so much that he had already bought at least a dozen loaves of bread a week before our trip. (Good thing it didn’t snow that week...everyone else would have been screwed.)
It’s nearly impossible to have dinner at a normal time at the beach. Because a million other people are thinking the same thing: “Well, it’s 6 o’clock, but I don’t think [insert nice restaurant] will be THAT crowded.” If you want to find a table somewhere besides at CiCi’s, you either have to have a late lunch or skip dinner and go straight into “fourth meal.” We did end up eating at a few nice places, and I did get to eat seafood (one of my goals for visiting a place along the ocean shore). This time I was smart and didn’t buy any crappy t-shirts (although the airbrush was screaming my name…) or even a magnet or a shot glass. The best part about the trip were the naps. Because when you doze on the couch, you get to wake up knowing you’re still at the freaking beach. I knew this not simply because of the salty air creeping through the sliding glass door, or even because of the faint sounds of terror from the kids who thought riding something that slung you up in the air was a good idea, but because I would wake up, look outside, and see my father throwing little pieces of bread to some always-hungry turtles.
The condo complex (Is this even the right term? It sounds weird. Oh well.) has a pond in the middle of it with a little bridge where you can go to feed the various fish (carp, maybe?) and, more importantly, the turtles. Feeding the turtles is a BIG deal for us. It pretty much is a close second in our reasons for going to the beach (I’ll leave you wondering at the number one reason…). And by "us" I really just mean my father. He hails from a long line of turtle feeders. His dad used to walk five miles each day to the local bakery just to get day-old bread to feed nearby turtles. My father’s grandfather LIVED with turtles, studying them and, of course, feeding them bread that he baked himself. My father loves feeding the turtles so much that he had already bought at least a dozen loaves of bread a week before our trip. (Good thing it didn’t snow that week...everyone else would have been screwed.)
It’s nearly impossible to have dinner at a normal time at the beach. Because a million other people are thinking the same thing: “Well, it’s 6 o’clock, but I don’t think [insert nice restaurant] will be THAT crowded.” If you want to find a table somewhere besides at CiCi’s, you either have to have a late lunch or skip dinner and go straight into “fourth meal.” We did end up eating at a few nice places, and I did get to eat seafood (one of my goals for visiting a place along the ocean shore). This time I was smart and didn’t buy any crappy t-shirts (although the airbrush was screaming my name…) or even a magnet or a shot glass. The best part about the trip were the naps. Because when you doze on the couch, you get to wake up knowing you’re still at the freaking beach. I knew this not simply because of the salty air creeping through the sliding glass door, or even because of the faint sounds of terror from the kids who thought riding something that slung you up in the air was a good idea, but because I would wake up, look outside, and see my father throwing little pieces of bread to some always-hungry turtles.
Anticipation
Nothing sucks more. People always say that anticipation is the best part. The best part of WHAT? These people are stupid. I mean, it's not because I hate waiting. I'm actually really patient. I just want good things to happen. I don't want to sit around on the couch eating dried pineapple and hoping for good things to happen.
People say waiting makes you stronger. I really don't know if people actually say that, but I figure the same people who say stupid things like "anticipation is the best part" would also say something stupid like "waiting makes you stronger." Stupid people say stupid things. It's pretty much a fact.
Personally, I'm ready for some good things to start happening. Some people might say that I'm just overlooking the good things in life, and that if I open my eyes I'll see the good things I already have. These people are also stupid. Yeah, sure, there are good things happening in my life. But I just want MORE good things to happen. I'm not content with a few good things. I want lots of good things.
The morals of this blog are 1) I want good things to happen...now. 2) Stupid people say stupid things. And 3) People shouldn't take advantage of other people. (I didn't mention this before, but I meant to.)
People say waiting makes you stronger. I really don't know if people actually say that, but I figure the same people who say stupid things like "anticipation is the best part" would also say something stupid like "waiting makes you stronger." Stupid people say stupid things. It's pretty much a fact.
Personally, I'm ready for some good things to start happening. Some people might say that I'm just overlooking the good things in life, and that if I open my eyes I'll see the good things I already have. These people are also stupid. Yeah, sure, there are good things happening in my life. But I just want MORE good things to happen. I'm not content with a few good things. I want lots of good things.
The morals of this blog are 1) I want good things to happen...now. 2) Stupid people say stupid things. And 3) People shouldn't take advantage of other people. (I didn't mention this before, but I meant to.)
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Baby Names
Naming a child is a strange thing... My sister-in-law is pregnant, so of course she and my brother (and everyone else in the world) are trying to think of baby names. They (she) has picked out a couple of names they (she) like best. I gave my input on the situation by offering them such gems as Lex, Lion-O, Pierre, and my favorite: Greg.
Personally, I don't like my name (my whole name, that is). It is like a curse that follows me throughout my cursed life. Naming a child is a great responsibility. And with great responsibility comes great power. (Yes, I flipped it...take THAT, Spiderman.) Seriously, it's a lot of power.
It may never happen, but I often wonder if I'll make a good father. I wonder if I'll be firm enough of a disciplinarian to teach the kid right from wrong. But maybe NAMING a baby gives you that initial sense of power even before you start out on the parenting path. You have already, in a way, mapped out their life for them. For instance, if you've named your son with a common girl's name, you've already given that kid years of bullying, just waiting for them. If you name him or her with a ghetto name, he or she will probably grow up to be president...of the ghetto.
So, name your child wisely. Put a lot of thought into it. Think about THEM. This topic always make me think of The Simpsons, when Homer is trying to decide what to name his son that wouldn't rhyme with anything funny (so he wouldn't be teased). So he says, "I'll name him Bart. Nothing funny rhymes with Bart."
Personally, I don't like my name (my whole name, that is). It is like a curse that follows me throughout my cursed life. Naming a child is a great responsibility. And with great responsibility comes great power. (Yes, I flipped it...take THAT, Spiderman.) Seriously, it's a lot of power.
It may never happen, but I often wonder if I'll make a good father. I wonder if I'll be firm enough of a disciplinarian to teach the kid right from wrong. But maybe NAMING a baby gives you that initial sense of power even before you start out on the parenting path. You have already, in a way, mapped out their life for them. For instance, if you've named your son with a common girl's name, you've already given that kid years of bullying, just waiting for them. If you name him or her with a ghetto name, he or she will probably grow up to be president...of the ghetto.
So, name your child wisely. Put a lot of thought into it. Think about THEM. This topic always make me think of The Simpsons, when Homer is trying to decide what to name his son that wouldn't rhyme with anything funny (so he wouldn't be teased). So he says, "I'll name him Bart. Nothing funny rhymes with Bart."
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