Month: August 2017

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I Mourn For Our Country

Trump's ridiculous statement on Charlottesville shows his unbelievable inability to communicate (we need "true affection" for each other?!) and underscores his unwillingness to specifically call out white supremacists.

Instead, he sticks with the idea that hatred and violence and bigotry are coming from "many sides." Why is he so reticent? Because he has been a white supremacist his whole life, his entire career …

This monster is on a golf vacation while our country burns, but still found time to take a moment to bloviate:

That one doesn't sound like his third-grade vocabulary. It was probably written by a member of his staff. But then followed it was followed up with this:

That sounds more like his vocabulary and diction. "Charlottesville sad!" SERIOUSLY?!? Fucking piece of moronic filth. The disgust I felt for George W. Bush doesn't even come close to absolute unmitigated HATE I feel for that asshole.

Here is a picture of Trump's America:

IMPEACH THE MOTHERFUCKER ALREADY AND REMOVE HIS WORTHLESS WASTE OF FLESH FROM THE WHITE HOUSE!

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Truth

In high school they told us: There will be no grades in a class except the midterm and the final, so you have to study hard because failing one test means you fail the class.

Once I was in college a professor said: Hey, you guys are working really hard on your third paper, so I'm just going to cancel the final and give everyone a hundred on it.

In high school they told us: In college, class always begins exactly at the scheduled start time. If your class is at 9 AM and you get there at 9:01, the doors will be locked and you'll be out of luck, especially if it's the day of the midterm or final, because then you get a zero.

Once I was in college a professor said: Does anyone mind if I start class at 3:35 instead of 3:30? These elevators are really slow and I want to have time for a cigarette before I teach for 90 minutes.

In high school they told us: Every class you miss drops you a full letter grade in college courses.

Once I was in college almost every professor said: You can miss three classes without a penalty, and a few more if you have a Doctor's note. Sorry to be a hardass, but you automatically fail if you miss more than ten days of class.

In high school they told us: If you do have papers, your professors just lecture and put the assignments on the syllabus. You're completely responsible for remembering the deadlines, they won't remind you. All your professors will do is lecture and the rest is up to you.

Once I was in college a professor said: Okay, so your next paper is in two weeks! I'll keep reminding you in the interim, but I just want to make sure you have enough time to do it! Let's run through the structure I want to see real quick, and if you have any questions, feel free to email me or come to my office hours!

In high school they told us: You have to use MLA formatting and if you make any mistakes in your citations, it'll be considered plagiarism. You'll be expelled and probably sued.

Once I was in college almost every professor said: Please do not use MLA, it is awful, we use either APA or Chicago here because we are not 14 years old.

Source.

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THIS is why…

…you do not give a 6-year old pyromaniac a box of matches and drop him into a field of dry grass.

I just can't anymore. Today has left me completely overwhelmed and at this point I just want to say, "Do it, you fucking bastard. Nuke the goddamned planet and get it over with. I can't deal with your BULLSHIT and Congress's refusal to do anything to rein you in any longer!"

I wish I still had the spiritual outlook that would allow me to believe in an afterlife—or reincarnation (as I once did). At least then I could take some solace in knowing we'll all end up in a better place—or with the trillions of planets in the universe, at least somewhere else—on the next go round; that in the grand scheme of things, turning this Earth into a charred cinder and extinguishing all life on it doesn't real mean anything.

But I can't think that way anymore. While there may be trillions of habitable planets teeming with life, each one—including the Earth—is unique and as humans, we each have one life. I would hate to think that at a distant point in the future some Galactic Survey ship encounters one of the Voyager probes, locates its source and swings through our little backwater system only to find a burnt-out irradiated rock third from the sun; all evidence of humanity wiped away because some narcissistic, sociopathic man-baby with a micro-penis had to prove what a man he was.

 

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Shower Thoughts

Owning a pet is (usually) only a fraction of a human's life. In contrast, to that pet, you are, and always will be the whole world to them.

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RIP, Dear Friend


Howard Semones
3 May 1967 – 5 August 2017

I don't exactly remember how Howard and I first crossed paths, but it must've been through our respective blogs. I do know however, that we only met in person a few years ago when Ben and I lived in Denver. Howard was a member of Monkey's Uncle, a small local improv comedy troupe, and seeing their live shows was always a joy.

We've known of Howard's illness for quite some time, but being a cancer survivor myself, I've been in denial, hoping against all odds that he'd pull through it as I did. Howard, however, had a different type than I did and had no such illusions. This past January he posted the following on his blog:

I'm going to be uncomfortably honest and real right now. So much so that I'm not posting this to social media and you may just want to click somewhere else (SQUIRREL!) on the internet. I was not looking forward to 2017. As much as aspects of 2016 were horrible, the new year brought with it a hard, stern look at my mortality. Or in summary:

There's a chance I won't make it through 2017.

No, I'm not suicidal. Please do NOT worry about that. I will keep fighting.

I'll let you catch your breath now.

As you may or may not know, I've been fighting Stage IV melanoma since the beginning of 2015. After two surgeries and four chemotherapies, I'm running out of options. All that's left is trials (if I can get into them due to being HIV+) and a treatment so intense I'll be in ICU for a minimum of 5 days. The trials are a shot in the dark. The treatment works for only 10% of patients. The good news with the treatment is, if it does work, I'll be in complete remission.

The problem is those are pretty much the only options left and I've been told seven months is my worst-case scenario. Since I've not received any treatment for 8 weeks that seems the clock is technically down to five months. 

Add to that the pity party of what I'm pretty convinced is me being out of "love" luck, too. Man, what does it take to convince a guy to just cuddle on the couch and watch a movie? I could get laid 10x easier. 

I may be down when you see me and these are the reasons why. It's hard especially since I tend to gravitate towards being jovial, happy, and optimistic. I don't necessarily want to leave because there are still so many beautiful and wonderful things out there, but I also have to be honest with myself.

We all gotta go.

And now you have gone, my friend. You will be missed. I shall miss your wit, your smile, your exuberant sense of humor and your thirst for life. And I will never forget that sweet, unsolicited, off-the-wall comment you made one time after I'd posted a photo of myself from the mid 80s: "I don't know about anyone else, but I'd make out with you."

Peace.

 

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Here's a Thought…

Just as there's a lower age limit on when someone can become President, so too should there be an upper limit. The same should go for Congress as well. And when a President or Congressman reaches that age limit, they should be forced to retire at the end of their current term, even if they are otherwise still eligible to run for another term.

What should that upper limit be? It's hard to say, but generally speaking I think it goes without saying that anyone in their 70s or above simply does not still possess the mental acuity that these jobs require.

Case in point, the current occupant of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue as well as several members of the Legislative body.

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Quote of the Day

Working hard for something we don't care about is called stress; working hard for something we love is called passion." ~ Simon Sinek

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Shower Thoughts

As soon as you think, "Maybe I can get up early and just finish it tomorrow morning," you're already screwed.