bjciii: My twisted thoughts

Quick… before you go any farther in this post, I want you to find the nearest book (fiction or non-fiction, biography or autobiography, just as long as it’s not a textbook or a phonebook). Do you have one? I don’t care if it’s a hard-back or a paperback; as long as it’s something that you were told to read or, better yet, chose to read for fun. Before you ask, yes; people actually do that in today’s wild and wacky society!

I am going to assume you’ve done what I’ve asked because, well… I can’t really go to all of your homes and check, can I? I mean, if I do, this will take a long, long time to write AND I’ll probably be arrested for trespassing, breaking & entering, and indecent exposure (or so I’m told). So, now that I’m picturing you with that book in your hand, I want you to do the following two things:

1. Lift the book to your ear, and flip through the pages so you can hear the light “fwap-fwap-fwap” of the pages hitting each successive page.
2. Open to any page, bury your nose in that book, and inhale deeply so you can smell that book smell.

Okay, psycho… why the hell are you asking me to do that?

Easy, it’s something that you probably won’t be able to do in 30 years. See, we’re entering a world where you buy a big tablet and download any book you want into a little hard-drive so you can have a literal literary library in your hands at all times. While I could buy a Kindle or whatever other brand there is and download the entire library of Stephen King books, I will never have the pleasure of opening up an old copy of The Stand and smelling that beautiful, fragrant musk again. While I can call up any of Tom Clancy’s Jack Ryan novels at a moment’s click, I won’t have that tactile experience of feeling the anticipation course through my fingers as I quickly flip to the next page to figure out how this character is going to enter the fold.

The future is coming, and it’s sanitized for our enjoyment.

I don’t think I could be any more depressed about it, either. I’m angry about it, yes, but mostly I’m saddened that my children and my children’s children probably won’t ever have the pleasure of curling up on a couch or laying in the grass or burying their feet in the sand while flipping through the latest summer read or breathlessly devouring their favorite book for the thirteenth time, seeing the dog-eared pages in the battered casing, knowing that the book has been well-loved, well-read, and well-traveled. See, a Kindle will hold the same words in the same order and will (probably) provide the same overall satisfaction at completing the journey from Page 1 to the end, but it’s not the same.

I like looking at my meager library I have amassed in my house. I like seeing the broken spines of my King and Koontz and Lescroart and Clancy novels. I like looking at my copy of Dead Irish, knowing that I’ve taken that journey with Dismas Hardy a few times, yet I never get frustrated with him not remembering that we solved this particular murder already. I like being able to look at my copy of The Stand, seeing teeth marks in it, knowing that my (then) puppy, Luke Skywalker, was a bit of a literary critic in his youth… or he was just trying to chew whatever I forgot to put out of his reach. I love smelling the copy of Without Remorse, read at one point by a fire, that still holds that wafting smoke within its pages.

I won’t ever get those experiences with an electronic library. Sure, I’ll have a lot more space in the house and I’ll have a little more money (thinking that pulp and paper books are more expensive than their amorphous counterparts, ready to be downloaded into a new body like a cyborg consciousness searching for a host), but I won’t have the same feeling. It’s not just the destination that matters, it’s the journey; the bumps and bruises, the callouses, the cuts and blood lost – THAT makes for a tale, not just the end result. Dan Brown’s DaVinci Code was a rip-roaring summer read about this, that, and the other, but I will forever remember the surroundings of where I read it more than the actual tale itself. Maybe that part won’t change, but the feeling will. Instead of that beautiful flipping of the pages, I’ll have the swiping of the screen. Instead of that lovely, musty smell, I’ll have… nothing. Knowing that I can open The DaVinci Code right now and inhale the salt air from Lewes, DE makes me happy; it’s like I captured my moments in a vault that I can access at any given point. The electronic librarian, her bun ever-so-tight, won’t allow me that remembrance.

I know I’m in the minority here, but I’m a vocal minority. I also figured that, since my birthday is fast approaching, I’d try to dissuade anyone from being nice and getting me one of those things. I’m happier with the paper-cuts and the space issues, folks. As a matter of fact, that’s sort of what I prefer. I know the tree-huggers hate me, but I’ll never stop buying novels… the day I do will be the day that I’ll be a consumer of another product made from a tree: my coffin.

Unless you’re hopelessly tuned out to the world, you’ve heard of Facebook, the internet social-media sensation that demolished the previous title holder (MySpace) and is poised to maintain that crown for quite a while. For those 3 of you in the world who don’t actually have an account, it’s basically a way (in the purest theory) to keep in touch with friends you have, friends you lost, and friends you might make. There are a lot of accoutrements that have been “added”, but the core idea is all about connection with people you know. That being said, there is definitely a way to go about using Facebook.

First, be honest. To most of us, there’s really no need to expand upon that, but there are so many idiots out there who feel that Facebook is their chance to undo all the mistakes they (or the genetic lottery) have made. You want a perfect representation of this? Try watching this YouTube video of Brad Paisley’s song “Online”(my favorite one of his songs). In other respects, people try to pretend they’re more or less political, more or less intelligent, or crafting some personality that will fit the guy or girl they’re currently chasing. Me? I joined Facebook back in 2006 when I was dating a girl who had an account. She kept mentioning it, so I got curious. I never once thought about lying about who I am though. I am the weird guy who doesn’t believe that the clothes make the man (in fact, I believe that the man makes the clothes) and that people will either like you or hate you based on your personality. If you give someone a false personality, it’s setting yourself up for failure. If you’re putting yourself out there for people to find, why would you lie?

Then we have Facebook “friends”. I put that word in quotes because it’s not always an indicator of real friendship, but it is merely an electronic connection for one of a multitude of reasons. Maybe she was hot and you think she has some nice pictures on her photo album? Maybe he was really cute and you want to cyber-stalk him? Maybe, maybe, maybe… There are a ton of reasons why people propose and accept “friends” on Facebook. Me? I request friendship when I know and like the person. I accept friendship when I know and like the person. I’ve turned down a bunch of people who have asked. Why? My feeling is that, if I can’t see myself sitting down and having a beer with them, they’re not much of a friend! People who have over a thousand friends boggle my mind… I wonder how many they can recognize in real life! I don’t need to friend the girl who sold me the Vanilla Bean Coolata at Dunkin’ Donuts that I got my father this weekend. I don’t need to friend the checkout girl at Target when I bought DVDs this weekend. That being said, if I run into a guy I went to 5th grade with and haven’t talked to in 25 years? Sure… why not? If he turns out to be a tool, I can always sever the connection (the dreaded “defriending” that sparks more wars than religious intolerance).

So let’s talk about “defriending” for a second… what is it? Well, it’s the electronic equivalent of “Hey… I really think that you’re sort of a tool, and I honestly don’t want to be connected to you in any way any more. I’d say ‘no hard feelings,’ but we both know it’s a lie. Don’t let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya! PEACE!” This is done for a few reasons:

• You were suckered into playing a game called Farmville or MafiaWars and you needed to get more members in your collective or mafia. You ended up friending about 500 people just for the game, and you stopped playing the game. Since you don’t play, you don’t need these “friends” any more! Hasta la vista, baby. This is probably the least offensive of the defriending since there really ARE no hard feelings.
• You friended all of your coworkers! Unfortunately, this is one of those double-edged swords; now the people you work with can see everything you do and gossip about it behind your back. Also, you might have been forced to friend them because it would be painfully obvious that 19 people in  your department are your friends and there is that lone person who’s not. When you change jobs or departments or co-workers leave, then it’s all about the defriending. The people you signed up under duress come first, and the people who were non-offensive, but not completely friends are next. You’ll probably end up keeping a bunch because, well, we spend more time at work than at home, right? Still… you may hurt some feelings here, especially if those co-workers thought more of you than you did of them.
• You went to school with them 20 years ago. You remember playing with your dolls / action-figures together, and you think “Oh, (s)he was pretty cool then!” You accept that friendship, spend some time with them / talking to them, and learn they’ve grown into Elizabeth Hasselbeck or worse. Now you have to risk alienating any “mutual friends” you have with them because you have to cut them loose before they infect you with their certain brand of crazy. It’s not tough on the relationship between you and that person, but the secondary fallout can hurt a bit depending on the people involved.
• You were in looooooove. You (obviously) friended your brand-spanking-new (“Oh yes, we’ve tried spanking. We liked it very much”) girlfriend or boyfriend. You then met her / his family… and friended them. You met her / his friends… and friended them. It was a big friending festival! All goes well for a while… then you catch her / him in bed with Pepe, the Guatemalan landscaper and his sister, Pepita. Your heart is broken, so  you break up with that person on the spot (and try not to trip over the rakes and leaf-blowers on the way out). After that comes “The Great Purge of Love and Hate.” You immediately delete all of her / his friends that you “never liked anyway” and then you take a little longer to click “X” on her / his family. Finally, you have come to the point of changing your relationship status from “In a relationship with…” to “Single” or “It’s Complicated.” This is the hardest cut of all as you are now telling the person that you loved only a few days prior to her / his South American adventure that you don’t want anything to do with them again.
• “A long time ago / We used to be friends / But I / Haven’t seen you lately / At all”. This one sucks the worst in my opinion. We all grow up and grow apart from people we always swore we’d be close to. Before Facebook, it was painless 99% of the time, and that remaining 1% was the wistful remembrances over yearbooks or photographs or songs. Now, with Facebook reminding us daily of who we talk to and who we don’t, it’s more painful to look at your friends list and realize you haven’t talked to John or Joan in forever. Sometimes you realize  you have absolutely nothing in common with them anymore, so you decide to pull the trigger and click that “X”. It’s guilt-laden, but even worse if they realize you did it and they take the minute to contact you about it. That one sucks because, if you’re honest, you need to nut up and tell them why. If you’re not honest, you just make up some lame excuse about how Facebook was glitchy or how you meant to delete someone else that happened to be above or below them on the list… and you misclicked. Eesh.

Honestly, defriending is a last resort. Why? Privacy settings and the “Hide” button. If you’re not bold enough to say “no” to someone’s friend request oryou’ve already friended them and they post constantly (thereby filling up your news feed), you might want to “Hide” them. For example, I have a lot of friends that post a lot, and I have a lot of friends who barely post at all. The friends who post a lot have no problems with me or my volume of postings, but the friends who signed up to look at pictures or whatnot, well… they usually complain about filling up their newsfeeds with my shit. I tell them “Click the ‘Hide’ button and you won’t see me anymore!” It’s a way to keep the friend without ever interacting with them (why keep them in that case? Re-read the bullet points above). I hide a bunch of people. The best part about “Hide” is that you can also hide applications (for example, you like Jimmy, but he plays Farmville and is constantly begging for cows or whatever the fuck they ask for. You can “Hide” Farmville, but see Jimmy’s other posts). The people you hide never know you hid them AND you can “un-hide” them at any time. This is a perfect way to keep a friendship without ever complaining about the little stuff.

Privacy settings are a little stricter. This is where you can group individuals together and severely limit their access to your information. I have a category called “Dark” where the people in that one can see I have a page, but nothing else. Then I have “Non-Interested Parties” where they don’t see anything I post, but they can see my general information - I do this to save my parents’ friends and my friends’ parents from seeing each and every status update. The grand ball-cruncher of privacy is the dreaded “Block”. This is used when you don’t want to A) let someone see that you even exist on Facebook; or, B) don’t want to see anything they post on your mutual friends’ walls either. I consider this a last resort. You can unblock that person, but they (s)he remains unblocked for 72 hours before you can block them again; that’s plenty of time for cyber-stalking!

Honestly… I look at Facebook as a complete time-waster and a lot of fun when the mood strikes. It really HAS brought a lot of my friends closer to me and shown me that we all have this inner voyeur that neesd to be sated every so often. It really has globalized the idea that no one is alone and that we really need to be very careful about what we say and to whom we say it.

Biggest rule, people: Don’t be dumb. If you put it on the web, it will be there forever. Keep that in mind, and you’ll be just fine.

There’s this little sequence in Lethal Weapon 4 (a sad ending to a series that started out so wonderfully) where Riggs (Mel Gibson… what a shame no one has heard anything about him lately; where did his career go?) is heckling Leo Getts (Joe Pesci) over the phone and Getts starts threatening Riggs. At that point, Riggs starts on Getts for being tough on the phone, and Getts replies that, yeah, he’s ”a telephone tough guy” because he’s chuffing up and making threats over a medium that will obviously protect him from pretty much any reprocussions. As a matter of fact, here’s the YouTube clip!

Why do I make mention of this? Well, we’re living in an age of mass anonymity and a complete lack of personal accountability. With the rise of the internet, even sweet, elderly grandparents can mask themselves and become “DethSlyr666″ in the online world. When my hometown newspaper, The News Journal, started allowing readers to comment on stories, they didn’t lock it down to force those users to provide verifiable credentials. What happened? A veritable flood of racist, homophobic, and sexist comments by “internet tough guys” who knew that no one could track them down to hold them accountable for their remarks. It disgusted me to such a degree that I wrote numerous e-mails to the “leadership” of The News Journal to complain about their short-sighted “user-friendly” commenting structure. Finally, after only about 2 or 3 years, they took my suggestion and at least hid the comments from the casual reader by forcing the user to click on a link to be taken to a separate page to view those items; I took that as a small victory, but a victory none-the-less.

That’s not the whole reason why this BLOG exists, though… See, I’m on Facebook, and there is a stupid game on there called MafiaWars. In short, you complete certain activities using “energy” and gain “money” for each action. You can also “attack” other players, and, if you’re not strong enough to beat them, you can put them on a “hit list” for other players to deal with in  your stead. Honestly, it’s a dumb waste of time, but it’s something to click on when I am bored.

And that’s the point: I do it when I get bored. I do not live and die based upon my character (if I did, I’d have died already as I’ve been “killed” 399 times – as of 09:41 EDT, today – wow! 1 more death and I get a toaster!). I’ve got a win-loss record in “fights” of 3,500-17,013… as you can see, I really don’t give a shit. So what does all this have to do with my BLOG post?

Keep your panties on… I’m getting there.

Any time someone attacks me repeatedly, I just put them on the hit list. Why? Why not? It’s all part of the game, right? Well, I did this to one kid who attacked me like 12 or so times. He was “snuffed out” by the guy (or girl… who can tell nowadays?) and the kid returned about an hour later to attack me again. I hit-listed him again. It happened like 3 or so times, and, honestly, I didn’t think twice about it because, well, I have better things to do with my time than care that much about this stupid little game. As I got to work that night, I received a Facebook message (reprinted in whole, but I left out what is most likely a fake name):

My name is Most-likely-FAKE-name-redacted. I am the Captain of SHWG (serial hit list watchers group). We watch the hit list to see who is a serial hit lister. I have seen your profile non stop hit list the same people. We were formed to teach serial hit listers that what they are doing is very unethical to the game. You need to learn to lose and move on. You must understand they more you hit list. The more someone is going to attack you. you are giving them more experience points from all the attacks from being on the hit list. so you are actually helping them instead of hurting them. then you also allow them more loot drops and a higher body count they more they kill/ice you. You also seem to be hit listing clan members. Which will ruin your game play by attacking you non stop until you apologize or quit the game.

This is your official warning to quit being a douche bag. If you keep being a serial hit lister….your link will be given to every Mafia wars player that hates hit listers. Our site now has over 1 million subscribers from all over the world.

Can you kindly heal up so we can proceed in todays lesson….that serial hit listers are douche bags and sissies. If you offer an apology I will post it and hope it is sufficient to have the beatings stop. If no apology is issued, your game play will be greatly affected.

Hopefully, you take this warning of your game play and change your ways. It would be horrible to eventually lose all your mafia members (since everyone hates a serial hit lister), they will remove you and proceed to kill/ice you. It would also be horrible to never be able to do anything if every time you go over 20 health you are attacked.

Thanks for your time,

Most-likely-FAKE-name-redacted

Yes… that really happened. First, just to have some fun, I Googled “SHWG” and received exactly ZERO hits back in anything regarding MafiaWars. I then Googled “Serial  Hit List Watchers Group” and received exactly ZERO hits back at all. So much for the “over 1 million subscribers from around the world”, huh? After that, I clicked on this person’s page and found it locked completely so that you can see a name, a picture (a busty cartoon avatar), and the gender of the supposed person. Did I reply? Hell no. First, I wasn’t going to apologize for playing a stupid game, but, most importantly, I wasn’t about to dignify the idiot with even a hate-filled diatribe. To me, this kid (and I’m pretty sure it’s a kid… if it’s not, then this dude / dudette has a whole lot of other problems by taking this thing that seriously) is just another result of the lack of accountability in this world. It’s REALLY easy to send anonymous e-mails to people and threaten them, knowing that they either can’t or won’t track you down to beat the shit out of you. Do I blame him/her/it for sending the message? Nah… it would be like blaming a dog for eating a juicy steak that was carelessly left in snout’s reach: It’s their nature and no one told them “no” before.

The whole point is that I’m a dinosaur at 34. I believe in taking responsiblity for your actions both in the real world and in the cyber-world. If you Google up my initials, pretty much everything you see is me (except for some random guy who posts a lot in a Bass Fishing website… go figure). I don’t hide myself from public reaction because my dad always taught me to stand up and be a man. If you don’t like what I have to say, fine… tell me and I’ll see if I was right or wrong and if an apology is necessary. I don’t hide. Unfortunately, I’m one of the few today that believes in that philosophy.

Folks… stand up and be a man (or a woman) and back up your assertions. If you say something, own up to it. If you threaten something, follow through with it. Don’t hide behind some piss-poor excuse for a handle and a fake account. It’s pathetic. Sadly, there are more of them than there are of us… and it depresses me.

I have spent a lot of my life in one hospital or another. Whether it was a children’s hospital or a general hospital, I’ve learned a few survival tricks:

1. Always repect your nurses and treat them like gold.
You cannot believe how many morons skip THE most important rule! As a matter of fact, consider the rest of this post “guidelines” because this is the only rule. Think about it… who is the one that cleans you up? Administers meds? Deals with your attitude? Helps you to the bathroom? I’ll give you a hint: the letters M and D don’t do it!! Nurses are overburdened, underappreciated, overstressed, underpaid, and overlooked – why would you add to that? Do you think they like cleaning up vomit and feces and urine? Hell no. Treat them as well as you� possibly can because they are literally your lifeline to health.

2. Don’t expect to sleep or rest.
Hospitals aren’t spas, people… they have one goal: Getting you healthy enough to leave. Sleep on your own time.

3. Don’t believe the hype about the food.
While I wouldn’t expect 4-star cuisine, I do think that hospital food is a hell of a lot better than it used to be! The cafeteria is good for guests, so don’t knock it until you try it.

4. Waiting requires preparation.
Yesterday, when I waited for my dad to go in, I plunked in the waiting room with the unwashed masses. I prepared myself with what I call “The Kit”. Ready for the secrets? First, bottled water; you need to stay hydrated and you don’t want to lose your seat! Next, tunes; an MP3 player is key to avoid the incessant ramblings of the idiots around you. People talk when nervous and you are all waiting to hear about a loved one’s prognosis: Rambling chatter abounds!! Third, a smart-phone; do whatever you can to stay in contact with everyone and the outside world. This will help combat the need to chatter on to random strangers! Lastly, reading material. Everyone swears they should read more, well… no better time to start, right? As a bonus, you can bring in back-issues of magazines and leave them when you’re done (just don’t forget to tear off
the address labels). Follow that prep, and life is manageable while setting up camp in the waiting room.

Those are the biggies to think about. The biggest thing to remember, after Rule #1 that is, is that there’s nothing so.comforting as that first time back in your OWN bed. Stay healthy.

When I was a child, my parents supplied me with many, many books which I made them read night after night. My father loves telling people that I had memorized the books so early, I taught myself to recognize the words in order, and basically taught myself to read with prompting by my mom and him. Well, one of my favorites was a Disney book called Button Soup which, in itself, is a retread of an old folk tale where the button is replaced by several different objects, most notably, a stone.

Well, it goes a little like this: A poor person has nothing but a cauldron, and he (or she) was very hungry. There is a rich person (or town) that the poor person comes across, but they don’t want to give that poor person any food. Well, the poor person fills his cauldron with water and asks for nothing more than a button to make the greatest soup ever. Obviously, since it’s just a button, the rich person gives it over. Getting curious, the rich person (henceforth called “Scrooge”) asks how good the soup will taste. The poor person (henceforth called “Daisy”) says that it will be good, but not great as it gets better with a little flour. Well, Scrooge has no problem giving a little flour, and Daisy puts it in. Scrooge asks again, how will it taste? Daisy says that it will be wonderful, but even better with a little celery.

Well, this goes on for a while with Daisy convincing Scrooge to hand over the entire recipe in dribs and drabs, effectively tricking him into opening his cupboard to Daisy and creating a wonderful soup which she ends up sharing with Scrooge and all the other hungry people in the town. From a single, ridiculous button comes a wonderful stew / soup, and everyone gets to partake, showing the power of sharing and caring.

This story kept echoing in my head today because I’m in the midst of a computer upgrade. A great friend gave me access to some software upgrade, but once I installed it, I found out that my video card and my sound card were both old and not supported any longer. I also found out that I probably wanted more RAM in order to run the new OS. Needless to say, I went to CompUSA today and got a brand new video card, a brand new sound card, and I increased my RAM to the max 4GB from a paltry 1.5GB. I got back to the house and I installed the RAM with no problems, I popped in the sound card, and I popped in the video card. I brought the PC online, and the RAM was recognized, the sound card was installed… but the video card had an issue: It wasn’t “DirectX” compatible with the minimum level of 9. Sooo…. back to the store to get a new video card, but wait!

The new card needed a minimum of a 300w power supply that was Dell-approved (due to the specific physical configuration of the computer’s case). I swapped the old video card for the new one, and I had to order the power supply since it wasn’t in stock and, apparently, there are no other CompUSAs anywhere near here (well, there’s Dover, but I’m not that hard-up for it today).

For those keeping count, that’s a new video card, new RAM DIMMs, a new sound card, and a new power supply… all to support free software! Eesh. My buddy said it best when he said “Upgrading a PC is a domino-effect… just when you think you got everything, another domino falls.” Right now, there’s still the matter of the motherboard and the CPU which, oh-God-please, are usable. I’m of the opinion that when the power supply gets delivered, I’ll get everything installed and find that I need to upgrade the MoBo and CPU anyway. Ya know what though? All this piecemeal stuff is still cheaper than buying a new one from Dell!

Lest any of you think I’m complaining about anything, I’m not. I’m incredibly grateful for great & helpful friends. I knew my PC was out-of-date, but I had no idea that I had seriously forgotten how much I forgot about building a PC from scratch. I guess it’s good to remember that stuff to remind me how my life has changed so damn much since I did this for a living!

“Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen.” — Ephesians 4:29 (New International Version)

Let’s chat, shall we?

One of my biggest issues is the perversion of faith to bend the will of others in the name of “religion.” I’m talking about the explosive douchebags who say that they are Islamic and the hate-mongering two-faced Christians who preach The Bible out of one side of their mouth, then smack their kids and wife around with the back of their non-Bible-holding hand.  See, I mentioned before (recently, in fact) that I believe in faith. I believe in something greater than all of us, but how you relate to that something is between you and it (or him… or her… or them). Unfortunately, some idiots got together and decided to take this pure faith and pervert it with rules and created RELIGION.

Keeping that in mind, I participated in a conversation about the use of the word “fuck” today that has me a bit interested. See, some people feel that curse words show that the speaker has a “limited vocabulary” and “baser ideas”. Really? One of my favorite American writers, Samuel Langhorne Clemens (you might know him as Mark Twain), once was quoted as saying “In certain trying circumstances, urgent circumstances, desperate circumstances, profanity furnishes a relief denied even to prayer.” Hell, you want to go back farther than that? Read a little of The Canterbury Tales by Chaucer. While you may not recognize any modern curse words, Geoff was a raunchy writer who probably pissed off a lot of people with his descriptive prowess. Why did they do it?

Words are powerful weapons, and curse words are no different. For example, if one were to watch The U.S. World Cup soccer team’s winning goal scored by Landon Donovan, how would you describe the mood of the person who exclaims “Great!” v. the person who exclaims “Fucking awesome”? What is the feeling of the person who gets up from their desk and says “This is bullcrap” v. the person who stands up at their desk and says “This is bullshit”? Those words are nothing more than the verbal equivalent of font decoration: BOLD or ITALICS or UNDERLINING! Those words draw attention towards different aspects of your speech and your feelings towards the subject matter.

Don’t get me wrong… there is such a thing as OVERUSE of curse words, and that does show your level of thought / vocabulary / maturity. A liberal sprinkling of “cuss words” will act as seasoning in a good dish, but even a great dish can be ruined if you unscrew the cap from the salt-shaker and dump the whole fucking thing into the pot!

But I digress…

I originally quoted Ephesians because a friend of mine received that quote in response to their (yes, it’s an “agreement issue” due to my need to hide the gender of the friend; sue me) Facebook status asking what was wrong in using the word “fuck.” My response? That quote leaves a lot to interpretation. What exactly is “unwholesome talk”? Is it limited to the dirty words that you can’t hear on network television? Is it merely the words that refer to things that offend the delicate sensibilities of certain individuals?

No. I have a different interpretation: I think “unwholesome talk” is anything that is meant to purposely destroy someone or something, in mind, body, or soul. I can speak ever-so-sweetly to you, using nothing but wonderful words that are found on the S.A.T.s, and reduce you to tears. Why? Because it’s all about the intent of the words. I can call someone “one cool fucker”, and they will think “Nice!” I can call someone “an obsequious sycophant” and, once they figure out what the definitions of those two words are, they should be quite offended! So “fucker” is unwholesome, but calling someone a bootlicker isn’t? Nope. Sorry. This is yet another example of the perversion of scripture for the narrow-minded idiots who tout how “Godly” they are while all the while looking down their noses at the rest of the world.

I don’t know what Bible they read or what Christianity they practice, but I was always taught that Jesus broke bread with saints and sinners alike. Yes, he wanted to save everyone, but he loved everyone as well. That last part is what a lot of people forget. Loving someone who follows you blindly is easy, but loving those who go against your thoughts and feelings? THAT, my friends, is what makes you “Godly.” I’m nowhere close to it, but at least I can admit that.

So, I’m curious… I know that I have a few friends who read this BLOG who are absolutely wonderful people and wonderful Christians; what’s your take?

Philadelphia wanted to evict the Boy Scouts of America because the BSA refuses to allow admitted homosexuals to take part in their group. Yup… The City of Philadelphia, in an effort to allow all people to take part in whatever they want, is trying to force the BSA to either admit homosexuals or look for a new headquarters.

Thank God, Philadelphia lost.

I make no secret that for the years between learning about sexuality (6th grade Religion class… Thanks, Mrs. Lobosco!) until late in my sophomore year at The University of Delaware, I was rampantly homophobic. I’d love to make excuses and say this and that, but the facts, as they say, are these:

• I grew up in a middle-class, suburban neighborhood
• I attended Catholic schools
• I was surrounded by non-homosexuals
• The parents of a lot of my friends were conservative
• I never discussed it with my parents… at all

Those 5 points should basically tell you that it was more xenophobia than homophobia, but since homophobia is just a directed xenophobia, whatever… The point is, I jumped on the “Fuck you, fag” bandwagon without really understanding why. I knew they were “different” and “perverse”, but that was really it.

As an aside, why do most homophobics not have a problem with lesbians? It’s like guys give them a pass because, hey! Twice the boobs! Ah, well…

In any case, I vividly remember walking around U of D’s campus in Newark and seeing all of the chalk writings about the LGBSU (Lesbian-Gay-BiSexual Student Union)’s drive for acceptance. I remember being all pissed off about them shoving their beliefs down my throat, but then I remember waking up the next morning and my first thought was:

Why should I actually care?

I think it was because I woke up next to my girlfriend and I turned to look at her when I wondered what it would be like if I was the “abnormal” one, and a heterosexual relationship was odd. Would I be persecuted because I wanted to hold her hand or kiss her in public? It was at that moment that I realized that, regardless of my personal distaste for male bodies, some other guys liked ‘em. Hell, no problem, boys… have at it. Since then, I’ve been hit on by a few gay guys and, instead of getting all pissed off and doubting my sexuality, I took it as a HUGE compliment! They were extremely gracious when I said, “Thanks, but I’m not into guys.” No harm, no foul.

There was one time that I was more than slightly off-kilter, however… I went with my then girlfriend to a bar in Wilmington where many gay men frequented. She went off and danced (at my behest), and I stood in the corner and drank beer. It was June 25th or July 25th, and I know this because it was their “Christmas in June (or July)” bash; all the bartenders were extremely skimpily dressed and, well… think of every stereotype you’ve ever seen about gay men. Yup. That was the scene. It was like the fucking Birdcage!!

So, while Laura was dancing, I was getting more and more uncomfortable. I paid for my beer, kissed her goodbye, and left quickly. My feeling was that I have no problem with their lifestyle, but I wasn’t quite ready for the immersion. Just like I can swim just fine in a pool, I doubt I’d do very well if you dropped me into the middle of the Atlantic, ya know? I actually talked to a friend who was there that night with his boyfriend, and he couldn’t stop laughing at me. “Bill,” he said, “I give you all the credit in the world for showing up and being there, but you looked so out of place!” Yeah. Absolutely.

Anyway, I tell you all of this because I think that as homophobic / xenophobic as the Boy Scout policy is, they have every right to be that way. They are a private group who allows admittance based on certain criteria. Just like you wouldn’t have an all-you-can-eat rib dinner at the local synagogue, why would you take a group based on the fundamentals of CHRISTIAN doctrine and force them to change something like that?

I guess I’m somewhat of an enigma here. On one hand, I couldn’t care less who is sleeping with who and who can marry who, but I also think that people who find that behavior reprehensible are just as protected from it as those whose behavior is protected. Ya know? It’s the hard line to walk when the idiots who fancy themselves uber-liberal call people like that “hate-mongers”.

Ah, well… this won’t be solved by a simple BLOG post; this one will rage on for a long while. The funny part is that I truly believe God doesn’t care about sexuality. To me, faith is pure and my faith tells me that my God loves everyone. Religion fucks it all up; that’s where the hatred comes from.

What was once thought can never be unthought – Friedrich Dürrenmatt
What was once seen will be burned into your psyche forever… especially if it’s a horrendously bad movie – Bill Christopher

A few days ago, I asked my Facebook friends to let me know what their choice for the worst movie they ever saw was. As usual, my friends came through! I asked specifically that they tell me the title of the movie, how they viewed it (in the theatre, on DVD/VHS at home), and why they chose to watch it. As usual, my friends skipped most of those criteria…

Stephtron said Transformers 2: Revenge of the Fallen. I saw that, and I thought that it was okay, escapist fun. Did Michael Bay direct the next Citizen Kane? Hell no… the movie blew. The overtly racist “twins” and the horrendous acting of Megan “All I am is tits” Fox were coupled with one of the worst villans in movies since the original Blade (the movie was actually pretty good, but when Deacon Frost turned into “La Magra”? Well, “sucks” took on a whole new meaning for this vampire movie). Sorry, Steph… not the worst movie I’ve ever seen.

Ms. Victoria said Showgirls, which, I must agree, was so beyond bad that it garnered quite the cult following. I actually paid to see this in Newark Shopping Center with my then roommate Gary and his not-yet-wife, Christy. I think one of the two of my companions fell asleep, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the train-wreck. Still, not the worst movie… Vic also mentioned Wicker Man which I never watched. Since she mentioned it in her post, I doubt I’ll try.

Cel listed not one, but two movies I’ve never seen (which severely limits my commentary, sorry folks): Valiant and Life, or Something Like It. Way to ruin my narrative flow, CC.

Duncan listed off yet another cult favorite: The Rocky Horror Picture Show. This one, my friends, I’ve seen. Is it a horrible movie? Absolutely, but there’s some charm to it and it never once takes itself seriously. A movie that knows it’s a shitheap and continues along with it? That’s alright in my book. Eventually, I want to go to one of those hardcore viewings of this at a midnight show. I will, however, be sitting in the rear of the theatre so as not to be hit by flying debris.

Gwennifer said Funny People with Adam Sandler was horrible, but I can’t say… I haven’t seen it. I did hear, though, that it was absolutely depressing and not “funny” at all.

Elizabeth said both Saw I and White Noise (in the theatre), but I have seen neither. Unlike CC’s choices, I have heard of both of these. I’m not a big horror fan; I sort of find them very formulaic and I get tired of that after a while. The last horror movie that I saw which was tremendously frightening was The Exorcist. I remember looking at White Noise and thinking it was a knock-off of The Ring; I hated The Ring, so I skipped White Noise too.

I’d say, of all the choices thus far, Karen’s submission of Kubrick’s Eyes Wide Shut is the closest; I still haven’t watched the whole thing. It seemed purposely obtuse and only served to show the world that Tom Cruise wasn’t gay by surrounding him with a lot of naked women in masks. The scene with LeeLee Sobieski was fun, though! Bad movie, but not the worst…

Adrian supplies us with The Mummy: The Tomb of the Dragon Emperor and despite owning it, I still haven’t seen it. I will, however, lend credibility to her claim because two of the most horrendously bad movies I’ve ever seen starred the very same man as Dragon Emperor: Jet Li. I’d love to blame my buddy Wade for making me watch both Kiss of the Dragon and The One (2001 was a very, VERY bad year for Mr. Li), but it was a joint decision. Back then, we’d meet up about 11am on a Saturday, catch a matinee at Christiana Mall’s movie theatre (long gone now) and eat and drink (mostly drink) at Don Pablo’s afterwards; one would pick up the movie, the other the food – alternating each time. It was a great agreement we had, but we saw some reeeeeeeally bad movies. The other actor who assailed our senses in more than one bad movie? Jason Statham. Seriously, folks. For every Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels, there was The One (yes, same movie) and The Transporter series.

Ann mentions Velvet Goldmine and, knowing her husband, I shudder to think about what it might be about. I tell you, with the conversations Eric and I have at work, I nominate Ann for sainthood in the multimedia assaults she suffers through! Oh, I’ve never seen this movie… and I probably won’t!

Now, as I dislike much of the horror genre, Jax loves that shit; the worse the movies are, the better she likes them apparently! So her pick, that I didn’t see, but I vaguely remember the VHS cover from when my mommy took me and my sister to Videofrequency to pick out a movie for the babysitter to watch with us (yes, folks… we’re talking early to mid 80s if I’m correct), was The Hunger. I could easily look this up, but I won’t. Why? Because then, if I was wrong, I’d have to delete the whole VHS thing and I think that makes my post disgustingly quaint. Bite me.

Okay… I looked it up. HA! I was right! Stick that in your pipe and smoke it, interwebz!

Ah, yes… I was wondering who would list off Cable Guy! Thanks, Darcy. This one is so bad that I didn’t finish it either! Jim Carrey is either brilliant (Ace Ventura: Pet Detective or The Truman Show) or just soooooooo bad (Cable Guy or Batman Forever); I don’t think the guy has any middle-ground! I watched very little of this movie, but I knew, instinctively, that I’d probably fling myself into traffic if I kept watching. Good call, Darcy… still not my pick though.

Kim? When the hell did Matt Damon make a movie named Gerry? I’ve never heard of it, and I thought I knew all of Dillon’s movies. Wow. Time to go back to school.

Car 54, Where Are You? was a classic television show about bumbling police, but it (as most things are) was raped and repackaged by Hollywood. Truthfully, Heather… I think that you should just own up to not deserving pity for this one! To me, anyone who saw McHale’s Navy, Car 54, The Honeymooners, The Flintstones, or any other movie based on an old, beloved television show from the ’50s or ’60s? You knew what you were getting into! Accept it, and slink into the darkness. I knew better than to watch this one… Sorry Dr. S!

Charlie accepts my friendship request and IMMEDIATELY responds; now THAT’S dedication, folks! His choice? The Anniversary Party. Never saw it, so I can’t say. Sorry, Charlie (wow… that was just kismet, wasn’t it?)

Australia was Duke’s choice and, like a lot of others, I knew better than to watch it. I think it was with Nicole Kidman and Hugh Jackman? No thanks. I know all about Australia and I don’t need to be bored by a sweeping epic telling me more. Thanks for playing!

Speaking of “down undah”, Peter Jackson (who I’m pretty sure is from New Zealand, so don’t flame me, folks) apparently made a bad movie called Lord of the Rings. Oh, sorry… I mean Meet the Feebles. I hated Fellowship of the Ring, but I won’t say it was “bad”, just boring as all hell. Sue watched Feebles, but I haven’t. I trust her though… even though she made me watch

The English Patient! Christ almighty Tom, I was also bored to tears with this one. It’s amazing  what I’ll watch when I’m smitten with a girlfriend! In any case, I’m 90% sure there was a vague nude scene in this movie, but I barely remember anything beyond pins and needles in my ass (it fell asleep long before the movie ended) and surreptitious looks down at my watch. On a similar, yet different tack: I laugh thinking back to some of the stuff Sue had me watch because, for a minute there, I really thought she was going to make me watch movies where at least one of the main characters didn’t really exist! We watched A Beautiful Mind (sorry, dear… I still thought that was a snoozer) and Fight Club (redemption!! That was awesome). She and her sister, Chrissy, also introduced me to the joys of foreign cinema and, especially, Franka Potente (who some of you may know as “the woman who House banged in the insane asylum”, but I’ll always know as “Lola”). Believe it or not, however, TEP still wasn’t the worst in my humble opinion… but it was pretty bad.

Schiffy thinks The Lake House was horrible and, once he said it was Keanu, I really didn’t have to read any farther. Seriously, people… Keanu Reeves makes finger puppets look animated. No further discussion is necessary (besides… didn’t see it, can’t comment).

Jal, my Jal… I never saw Dead Ringers, but I heard good things. It was really that bad?

Finally, Inmate Cathleen says that Even Cowgirls Get the Blues was horrible, but I’ve never seen it. I think Ang Lee did, renamed it “Even Cowboys Get the Butt”, but he was overruled. Natch? Brokeback Mountain. Seriously, it’s a true story.

That’s a lot of horrible movies (some according to you, some agreed upon by me), but I gotta tell you that there are a few really, really bad movies that I’ve seen in my life that I’ll actually watch snippets of before I shake my head and think “Jesus, what was I thinking to have seen this in the first place?” To this day, there’s only been one movie that I paid to see, marched to the ticket counter to demand my money back (which I never got), and have never, ever attempted to view again (probably because when it DOES play on cable, it’s at 3:47 am). This movie, my friends?

Blankman.

Robin Givens (remember her? She married Mike Tyson and was so bitchy that America sided with him… of course this was before he went batshit crazy) and Damon Wayans & David Allen Grier (both hotter than hell from “In Living Color”, and funnier than shit too) starred in this and, for the life of me, I cannot remember the plot at all other than Wayans was a vigilante and Grier was his sidekick. This movie was worse than Bill Cosby’s bombs of Leonard, Part 6 and Ghost Dad (yes, my friends, I saw them both). This movie was *probably* worse than Glitter and Gigli. If you ever are feeling like you want to end it all, but just can’t pull the trigger (pun intended), rent it – there’s no way you’ll survive. The sad part? It’s not even listed in IMDB’s Bottom 100 movies! Someone fell asleep at the switch!

Thanks to all who contributed. Now, go watch a GOOD movie? Give yourself a little mental cleansing… you deserve it.

As many times as I try to tell people that we live in a very large world filled with gray, everyone seems to revert right back to “black” and “white”. Before anyone groans, thinking that this will be a racial harmony post, rest assured that it’s not. I’m talking metaphorically about the “all or nothing” conundrum, also called the “slippery slope” idea. You know what I’m talking about: The concept that if you allow one, tiny thing to happen, all the bad stuff that might happen as a result, will simply because you opened the door a crack. It’s the argument that conservatives have been spouting for years about the opposition to legalizing marijuana (“It’s a gateway drug! You smoke pot, you’ll be hooked on heroin in a month!”) or legalizing gay marriage (“It will mark the end of the family unit! Everyone will be immoral!”).

Nothing’s black or white, folks… it’s gray; there’s a little of this in there to match a little of that and beyond.

Let’s talk about this program called “Foursquare“, shall we? When I was a kid, “four-square” was a game we played at the pool where you had four people standing in specific squares (see the ingenious naming device at play?) bouncing rubber balls (kickballs or soccerballs or basketballs) in each other’s square. If the ball bounced in your square, and you couldn’t get it out of your square before it touched again OR it went out of bounds, you lost and moved to the lowest-ranked square. For the life of me, I cannot remember the name of the positions, but I know that for every X number of “wins” you got being the top player (I think the number was 5), you could make a rule like “The player in the lowest-ranked square has to stand on one foot while playing.” It was a great game that got REALLY heated after a while, but it was a blast.

Anway, tangent… sorry.

NOW, however, “Foursquare” is a computer program that tracks the users as they “check in” to various locations around the world. It can be as simple as checking in at 7-11 or flying to Rome and checking in at The Vatican. The purpose of this program is to attempt to introduce people to certain locations that they might not otherwise ever experience. It’s also a way to invite friends to join the person checking in at wherever they are.  So, when I check in to “Dead Presidents Bar & Restaurant”, I am saying “Hey, friends! I am here watching The Phillies game! Please come join me!”

Something you should know: It’s a voluntary program! You have to CHOOSE to install it on your phone or portable device. Moreover, you have to CHOOSE to “check in” at certain locations, the program doesn’t automatically do it for you. FINALLY, you have to CHOOSE to feed it to your Twitter account and / or your Facebook account. That’s right, people… The program allows you to hide everything until YOU are ready to reveal it.

I hope that clears some misconceptions up about this…

Of course, some people take this a little seriously; they might drive to an Exxon, then stop into Wawa for a soda before driving to Blockbuster for a movie, and then to Pizza Hut for dinner, before going to pick up a friend, then go home… and check in at all 6 places! No, no, no… That would fall into the “ALL” category, and (I agree, folks) that’s just dumb. Seriously… who cares if you’re gassing up your car? Who cares if you’re renting a movie? Who cares if you’re picking up a pizza for dinner? It’s ridiculous to overuse this. Couple the idea that I can definitely see how certain, unseemly elements can find out where you are and stalk you -OR- rob the now-vacant house, and yeah… I get the problems! I understand the reticence of using a program like this!

Fortunately, I fall into the “gray” category here. If I go out with friends to catch a game, sure! I’ll “check in” to wherever I am as a tacit invite to my other friends that says “Here I am… come out.” Do I check in at home? No. Why? ‘Cause I don’t want you coming over unless I invite you! Do I check in when I’m on a date? NO! Why? See reason above. Seriously, folks… it’s NOT all or nothing! I’ve had this argument with my parents numerous times (and I can see that I’m going to start having it regularly with my sister and brother-in-law because they care about me and they don’t understand the desire I have to participate in all these online communities) that, for everything I do post online, I don’t post HALF the shit I really do or think or say. I understand limits. I adhere to those limits. I get the desire for privacy and I get the desire for complete social nudity (please get the allusion here, people; I am not talking about public nudity, okay?), but (as always) I fall in the middle. I tell my friends where I am so they can join me, but not all the time.

Yes, I get how certain people can misuse this information, but I’ve got a secret for you: That’s gonna happen no matter what. Unless you become a hermit and cut yourself off from everyone and everything in the world, some people are going to find a way to screw you over. Sorry. It happens. You can’t live your life in fear that someone, somewhere will find a way to hurt you. If you do, you’re not living… you’re constantly surrounding yourself in suffocating paranoia.

I’m not saying “Foursquare” is a champion of freedom; hell, even I think it’s a time-waster. I think it’s a fun, little program that will let the people you want to hang out with know where you are so they can say “Wow. I haven’t seen Bill in a while. He’s over at Washington Street? I think I’ll have a beer too!” Will I check in at private homes? Never. Will I check in from private events? Never. Will I check in from places where I don’t want the world to know about? Never.

Again, it’s never “all” or “nothing”, guys and girls… It’s a directed understanding of what’s there and how to use it and not misuse it. I’m a big boy… I know what I’m doing, oddly enough. To sum up? If you see me “checked in” somewhere, feel free to join. I may not buy you a beer, but I won’t send you away!

With both my Twitter account and this BLOG, I’ve dropped off the radar. I can give the normal, bullshit excuses (which, some of them at least, are partially true), but I’m about to tell you the exact and brutal truth:

I’m hung up on perception.

I was one of those weird kids who thought a hell of a lot when he was a toddler. I vividly remember staring out the big picture window at my parents’ house in Colonial Heights, looking up the street, but, more to the point, staring up wondering what heaven was like… Would I go there if my heart problem got worse? Could I take a rocketship straight up and crash through the floor of heaven? Would God be mad at me if I ruined his rug?

I probably thought of hell too, but I think I blocked that out; I have quite the vivid imagination, so I’m pretty sure I worked myself into a tizzy a few times.

I remember thinking about my first real crush a lot, Brenda Czerwinski, and how great it would be to… well, I was only in 1st grade. I had no damned clue what it would be great to do, in all honesty.

I remembered being really depressed that my grandparents were old in their 50s and how they would die (which, for 3 of the 4, happened… but not for another 20+ years).

I laid there and listened to music, wondering why we put such emotion to music.

All of these things I thought about, and all of these things I questioned my parents about. In the early 1980s, my parents were still in their 20s, but they were “mommy” and “daddy” and knew all the answers. As I continued to grow, so did they, and I always saw them as my parents.

Now that I’m 34, I look at where my parents were at my age, and I think “Why am I so far behind?”

The perception I have is that I’m nowhere near mature enough to be my age. I should be reading a paper at night and growing a mustache. I should be planning picnics and volunteering at soccer games and stuff.

I feel kind of like a failure.

By posting all of these thoughts as much as I was for a while, I felt that it underlined my issues, and I hated it. I hated looking around and seeing how my friends were all happily married and living idyllic lives with their partners and children. I hated feeling like the pitied friend who is an afterthought because he didn’t really belong to “the couples group” or “the parents group”.

All of these collisions between my inner-thoughts and reality kept depressing me. I started dropping the entries and focusing on things around the house. I stopped “Tweeting” and started conversing. I basically tried to grow up.

I had a chance discussion with my aunt and uncle about 2 weeks ago where I brought some of this up, and I was told that I was being stupid.

Yeah.

I was told that one of my strengths was being able to maintain my youth while focusing on the important, adult-related ideas. I was told that it was THAT quality that made me a good teacher because I could relate to my students rather than just pretending to understand. I never actually thought of it like that, but I got it.

I won’t go into any details, but I started looking at the examples that I had used to build my self-imposed prison. My parents have always had fun; they weren’t always MOM and DAD, but they were individuals who did their own thing and had fun. My friends didn’t all have idyllic marriages! There were issues that I never paid attention to before!

Most importantly, I was caught up on the very few who seem to exist to knock me down rather than the copious amounts of you who seem to enjoy lifting my spirits. Those very few robbed me of the one, special thing I had when I first started BLOGging: My unflinching honesty. Once I was smacked a few times because of that very quality, I got gunshy. I knew what I meant, but certain people were determined to make me feel like shit for it.

So? Fuck ‘em.

I’m not promising that I’m back with incredible regularity, but I think Brian & Bunny (the aforementioned uncle and aunt) made me realize that we’re all on different paths with different timelines and, even though you desperately want to be copying someone else’s, it’s stupid. Be your own person, and life will work out the way it’s supposed to… for you.

I finish by saying that I’m not forcing any of you to read this. If you’re interested, please link the RSS feed. If you’re not, go away; I won’t be offended. I want to return to how it was before… how I can just put anything up that I want without being sanitized for their protection.

We’ll see, peeps… we’ll see.