”Think of an experience from your childhood. Something you remember clearly, something you can see, feel, maybe even smell, as if you were really there. After all, you really were there at the time, weren’t you? How else would you remember it? But here is the bombshell: you weren’t there. Not a single atom that is in your body today was there when that event took place. Every bit of you has been replaced many times over (which is why you eat, of course). You are not even the same shape as you were then. The point is that you are like a cloud: something that persists over long periods, while simultaneously being in flux. Matter flows from place to place and momentarily comes together to be you. Whatever you are, therefore, you are not the stuff of which you are made. If that doesn’t make the hair stand up on the back of your neck, read it again until it does, because it is important.” ~ Steve Grand (Creation: Life and How To Make It)
I’m sitting here listening to Mozart’s Symphony No. 40 on my laptop and reveling in his absolute musical genius.
Suppose you were able to bring Mozart 200 years into the present. Never mind cars, airplanes, television, computers, telephones and the rest of the technological and social changes he’d encounter; how would you explain digital recording to him?
This was a little thought exercise I actually had about twenty years ago while driving across the Bay Bridge one night. I had my second-generation Sony Discman (how quaint it seems now) plugged into the car stereo and was blasting that same symphony as I headed across the bay to visit friends in Albany. Or maybe it was to cruise UC Berkeley. I don’t remember at this point. Both happened with pretty much the same regularity.
Anyhow, I wondered what Mozart would think if he were in the car with me; would he think recorded music was some form of witchcraft, or with enough explanation and possibly a trip to a recording studio, would he be able to comprehend and process the science behind it, or would he just go have a total breakdown?
This little fantasy serves to remind me just how far we’ve come in a mere 200 years and makes me wonder what life will be like in another two centuries (assuming we aren’t wiped out by an errant asteroid, blow ourselves up, or otherwise bring about our own destruction) since technological development is progressing at an ever-increasing pace. If any one of us were transported to the year 2212, would we be able to understand any of what we encountered?
I seriously doubt any of us would view technology of the 23rd century as witchcraft since we would come armed with more of a technological mindset than Mozart’s time would’ve provided him, but how would we react to AI (almost a given), routine commercial space flight and bases—if not cities—on the moon (again, a near certainty), not to mention the very real possibility of finally—if anyone else is really is out there—having made contact (if only by way of electronic signals) with alien civilizations?
Would it be more culture shock than our puny little 21st century minds could handle?
SPOILER ALERT! I’m going to eviserate Battleship, so if you haven’t seen it—and still want to—best to skip this post until after you’ve thrown your money away.
Remember, you’ve been warned.
OMG, where do I begin? Probably by saying that when I first remember seeing a preview (minus the whole alien invasion thing) for this piece of drek a year ago, I rightfully thought, “Seriously? They’re making a movie from a fucking kid’s game?” and I should’ve heeded my first instinct and avoided it like the plague. But when subsequent trailers appeared that showed the whole end-of-the-world-invasion-from-space aspect I thought, “Okay, let’s give it the benefit of the doubt. It might be a fun little summer romp.”
Ben had no desire to see it (smart man), so I went on my own this morning. I almost walked out, not once, but three times—and that was just within the first thirty minutes! Loser brother of successful Navy man goes after hot blond chick in a bar—who just happens to be the Admiral’s daughter.
Of course.
Said loser brother ends up being forced to enlist in the Navy after he’s arrested for breaking into a convenience store because the blond chick that he’s trying to bed wants a chicken burrito. Then, after being in the service for some undetermined period of time, he’s on the verge of being thrown out after getting in a fight with some Japanese guy at a sporting event. (Sorry, I was only half paying attention by this point and got up and went out to get something to drink; I figured I could easily afford to miss five minutes of storyline and not miss anything.)
Before he can actually be discharged however, the aliens arrive and obliterate all the other ships—except the one he’s on—inside the Big Bubble of Protection® they throw up around their ships and the entire chain of Hawaiian islands.
Of course.
And it only gets worse from there.
It’s never actually explained why the aliens came here after receiving a signal we specifically beamed in their direction, but I suspect it’s because they just like to blow shit up, in the most 3D effecty way possible. They also apparently dislike freeways, helicopters, and battleships, but like ponies and chocolate ice cream.
Okay, I totally made that last part up.
But, like all aliens of the destroy humanity genre, they have one vital weakness.
Of course.
In this case, they have lizard eyes (of course they do) that don’t like sunlight. Okay, let me get this straight: they came from a planet in the so-called “Goldilocks” zone (explained at length at the beginning of the film) that would supposedly have the same conditions as found on earth—but the sunlight makes their eyes hurt.
Seriously.
I could go on and on, but let’s face it: I’ve already expended far more brainpower than was really warranted on this thing. And the worst part of it all (other than the prominent placement of Coke Zero in nearly every other scene)? It’s the fact that while the aliens’ attempt to use our technology to phone home after their device was destroyed upon arrival, the transmitters themselves weren’t actually destroyed until AFTER the signal had been sent, leaving the whole thing open for an equally odoriferous sequel.
Of course.
Short version of the two hours of my life I’ll never get back: Loser brother saves the world and gets the girl.
Redbox rental maybe if you’re really bored, but not even worth a $5 matinee…
The only picture you’ll ever see of me on the internet where I am not fully clothed.
Oh wait. There is one other probably still floating around out there that I posted to a BBS back in the early 90s. I’m wearing a leather vest and a cowboy hat.
And a smile.
And no, you can’t see it.
Those little blue shorts (that I cut the liner out of) got me into so much trouble at that pool. I remember one time rushing out of this guy’s apartment through the back door as his boyfriend was coming in the front. I was lucky he didn’t live on the second floor.
And how could I have possibly thought at the time that I was fat? I wish I was so fat now!
As I lay awake this morning at 3:30 am—yes, again—I started wondering what causes two people, who have been friends for decades, to drift apart.
Tucson, January 1983: I had just arrived home on a Friday evening after stopping to pick up some groceries after work and, looking to the east, saw the most beautiful full moon I had ever seen rising over the Rincon Mountains. I had originally intended on staying in that night, but a little voice popped into my head that kept saying, “You really need to go out tonight.”
For once, I heeded that little voice (because it would not let up) and later that night, I met Lee and Floyd, two very different men who ended up entering my life and accompanying me on this strange journey far longer than I think any of us had ever anticipated.
I will save Floyd’s story for another time.
I had been introduced to Lee a few weeks before that night by a mutual friend, but we really didn’t click. (To be honest, I think I just blew him off; I was no doubt in hot pursuit of some piece of ass and didn’t want the distraction. I could be quite a prick back then.) Anyhow, I don’t remember what caused us to gravitate to each other that night, but we struck up a conversation. The one thing that still sticks with me is that one of the first things he said was, “I didn’t think you liked me.”
Ouch.
I apologized, and clarified that no, I didn’t dislike him at all. Our conversation sort of stumbled along after that until I happened to mention something about my first (life) teacher, and Lee’s interest immediately picked up. We soon discovered that we were both on a spiritual journey of exploration, and became so engrossed in our conversation that we ended up closing the bar. While there was no physical attraction, the next night we had dinner and ended up back at my place—where we continued the previous night’s conversation until nearly 4 am. And thus a friendship was born.
Lee and I, April 1983
Lee arrived at a time in my life when Dennis, my first partner, and I had been on an extended separation. After Dennis’s return to Tucson from Dallas in June of that year, I came to think of us as The Three Musketeers. When Dennis and I did finally split for good (remaining best friends until his death in 1991), and I got together with Bernie, my second partner, we became the Four Musketeers.
Lee was part of our grand migration to San Francisco.
Babe in the Woods, December 1985
While he remained several years, San Francisco never really agreed with Lee, and after nearly a year in Denver, I can now finally understand where he was coming from. Some places just don’t fit, and for Lee, San Francisco was one of those places. He returned to Tucson in the early 90s.
Ten years later, after I’d returned to Phoenix, Lee stood by me through my cancer treatments, driving up every week to provide welcome relaxation assistance by way of some Reiki sessions.
But then something happened. Late one night, after one of our final sessions, his car broke down in the dark between Phoenix and Tucson and he was stranded by the side of the road until a good samaritan happened by with a cell phone and was able to call for a tow.
I think this spooked him to the bone, because since that happened in late 2003, I was unable to get him to ever come north again.
Still, we would get together whenever I went south (which was happening pretty regularly for a while), and things were as good as ever between us.
I should note that Lee is not the big tech nerd that I am. He has a computer, and for a while we were emailing back and forth pretty regularly. But he started using it primarily for online gaming, and soon my emails were going unanswered. I asked him about this and he explained that there was now so much spam in his inbox that he didn’t even bother checking it any more.
Okay. A hundred different ways around that immediately sprang to mind, but from his tone I could tell any solution to this was going to be more trouble that it was worth to him.
Lee doesn’t have a FaceBook account. He doesn’t Tweet. Hell, as far as I know the man still doesn’t even have a cell phone.
The last time we spoke—about 18 months ago—everything was fine. All the old connections came flooding back and he wished Ben and I well on our upcoming adventure to Colorado. Since that time I’ve called and left messages on his answering machine, but they haven’t been returned. My last ditch effort at staying in touch has been snail mail. I’ve sent a couple letters since we’ve been in Denver, but still I’ve heard nothing back from him.
I know he’s still alive. Bernie certainly would’ve let me know if something had happened to our dear friend, so I’m at a loss.
I have no way of knowing if he ever reads my blog, but did I happen to post something that so annoyed him that he’s cut me off after all this time? Did my relatively newfound Atheism betray all the years of our spiritual questioning?
I just don’t know.
Maybe it’s just one of those questions in life that will never be answered.
Dark Shadows Battleship Snow White and the Huntsman Men in Black 3 The Raven Lockout* The Avengers Wrath of the Titans* Chernobyl Diaries Cabin in the Woods*
and most anticipated…
Prometheus (OMFG yes! This flick had better live up to the hype!)
*I know at this point I’m going to have to find dollar theaters for several on the list as they’re well past their “sell by” dates. And since Ben has has also indicated he’s also not interested in seeing them, guess what I’m going to be doing while he’s in Phoenix in two weeks?
This is what happens when dementia wards are left unlocked.
“Whitney Houston was found without clothes in a bathtub. Every corpse found without clothes has a partner that did away with them.” Also: Did you know that you’ll die within thirty minutes of rimming somebody?
My advice? Ignore the whack-job. Concentrate on the cute guy sitting in the background. His reactions to this cray-cray are PRICELESS!
“The problem—often not discovered until late in life—is that when you look for things like love, meaning, motivation, it implies that they are sitting behind a tree or under a rock. The most successful people recognize that in life they create their own love, they manufacture their own meaning, and they generate their own emotion.” ~ Neil deGrassi Tyson
So all the usual suspects are foaming at the mouth because of Obama’s endorsement of marriage equality.
Quelle surprise. BREAKING: the sun rises in the east.
At least for me, all their yammering on about the sanctity of marriage is simply becoming so much background noise. While Obama has yet to do anything concrete to back up his supposed “evolution” on the matter, it still feels like a seismic shift has occurred in the American psyche. As I said to a coworker today, “The dam has burst, and there’s no turning back.”
After what happened in North Carolina on Tuesday, Obama’s announcement was nothing less than a thing of beauty and a very stiff middle finger pointed straight in their direction.
But what I really don’t understand—and maybe I really shouldn’t waste any more brain power because of the inherent stupidity associated with it—is why all these knuckle-dragging Christofascists are so upset that it’s happening. I mean, if they take it as a sign of the imminent arrival of their beloved “End Times” (“Ooh Santa is coming tonight!) why aren’t they embracing it? Don’t they want their invisible sky fairy to finally descend from the heavens, reveal himself to all the unbelievers and condemn the Atheists, gays, abortionists, Muslims, yada, yada, (basically anyone who isn’t them), to eternal damnation and never-ending hellfire so they can stand there smugly with their arms crossed and say, “I told you so!”?
Is it maybe because in their shriveled little black hate-filled hearts, while they have no doubts whatsoever about the existence of hell and the righteous judgment of unrepentant sinners, they do have doubts that maybe—just maybe—their names won’t be found written in the desired column on Jeebus’s Big List of Naughty and Nice®?
Let’s face it: we’re human. Who among us hasn’t done something we shouldn’t have. Show me someone who claims that he’s never lied and I’ll show you a liar. (The same goes for masturbation.) And the ones who are always screaming most loudly about GAWWWWD are the ones bathing in champagne and pissing out their penthouse windows on the masses below.
Wasn’t it their very own Lord and Savior® himself who supposedly said, “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone?”
I’ve thought about this probably more than I should have, and this is the only explanation I can come up with. They have that one little bit of doubt about their own worthiness to enter the Magic Kingdom that’s bouncing around in their empty skulls, and basically, deep down, they’re scared shitless.
President Obama today announced that he now supports same-sex marriage, reversing his longstanding opposition amid growing pressure from the Democratic base and even his own vice president.
Well-known hate group leader Tony Perkins hopes Dan Savage will see the light and embrace Christ as his Savior. He even prays for it.
“I would put out this challenge to folks who are listening: to put Dan Savage on the top of your prayer list and pray for him because I believe he has the potential to be a modern day Saul of Tarsus. I mean, just think if the Lord got a hold of his heart and changed him and turned him from persecuting Christians to being an advocate of Christianity and morality, what a huge impact that would have. So don’t get angry at Dan Savage; he’s doing what people do when they’re lost. Pray for him that he would see the light, be blinded by the light, and come to know Christ as his personal savior.”
Dan responds:
“Oh, Tony. If quoting their own scriptures to Christians amounts to ‘persecuting Christians,’ then every Baptist minister in the country is guilty of persecuting Christians. And Saul of Tarsus? That would be Paul, of course, author of huge chunks of the New Testament and the creep responsible for its most misogynistic and homophobic bits. (Jesus didn’t say anything about homosexuality, and Jesus never asked his mother or Mary Magdalene to ‘keep silent.’)
“Paul was a tortured closet case, which is the kind of Christian I would have to be to meet with the approval of someone like Tony Perkins. You know, a Christian in the style of Marcus Bachmann or Ted Haggard or Benedict XVI. And let’s not forget what ‘I’ll pray for you’ means someone like Perkins says it:
“Everyone knows, ‘I’ll pray for you,’ is how Baptists say, ‘Fuck you.’
There you sit this morning North Carolina, all smug and self-satisfied in your hate, no doubt believing in your little heart-of-hearts that it was God’s will that you mouth-breathing, knuckle-dragging assholes enshrined discrimination in your state law. But I’ve got news for you: you were on the wrong side of history when you outlawed interracial marriage, and you’re on the wrong side of history AGAIN.
The more I think about this, the more livid I become. I’m not sure why, because other states have passed similar laws. Maybe it’s because your state—whose motto should now be changed from “FIRST IN FLIGHT” to “FIRST IN HATE”—was a necessary tipping point to open eyes and get the masses’ blood boiling.
And despite your unwavering belief that you’re doing the Lord’s work (who NEVER said a word about homosexuality, by the way) I have a feeling, that this is going to come back and bite you in your shriveled, black, hate-filled hearts. More than 50% of Americans polled are now in favor of marriage equality. Major corporations, sensing the tide of public opinion, are increasingly coming on board and providing the same benefits to same-sex partners as they do to the rest of their married employees.
Your vote was a slap in the face to that, and I sincerely hope that every GLBT person and their supporters (including businesses) leave your state and let it free-fall back into the middle ages. Have you not seen what happened in Georgia with their stance against so-called “illegal” (i.e. brown-skinned) migrant workers? Crops are rotting in the fields. North Carolina deserves no less.
I spotted this in the comments section at Joe.My.God. this morning, and I couldn’t have said it better.
NORTH CAROLINA HATES FAGS
We get it…you hate us…you really, really hate us.
Which, of course, is what all these “protect marriage” amendments are about. You’re not protecting anything, you’re just preventing a small group of people that you hate from entering into your “exclusive” marriage club lest we sully it (GOD FORBID…we should swim in your pool…you’d have to drain it). Now, if y’all really had the courage of your convictions you’d make homosexuality itself in North Carolina a crime, punishable by death just like it says in the Bible (let’s run that up the flag pole and see how it flies…I bet it would pass or come damn close). But, of course, you don’t have that kind of courage because y’all are nothing but a bunch of bullies and cowards, as your state’s racist history would attest.
