Category : rant

I have updated my website across the board lately. I think you can page down a bit and see how rare that actually is. But I’m trying to pick up the pace of my ramblings, although God only knows why. Perhaps it’s because of the confluence of my goals and the way things are shaping up. I finally feel like I’m on solid ground, or at least close to it.

However, not all is cheery and happy in Timland. No, I’m pissed about Dreamweaver’s quirks, and I’m constantly tired and sick. It seems I’ve had a sickness/sore throat/flu-thing for about a month now, which is pretty fucking annoying, I assure you. Everytime I feel good, I know that it’s right around the corner. I shit you not. Just this morning I was walking through the hallways of my office and thinking that I felt pretty good. Just a few hours later my throat was tight and scratchy. WHAT THE FUCK!!!! My body has beaten this illness 10 times over, so why the fuck does it keep coming back when it knows it’s only gonna get whooped again. Just to fuck with me, I suppose. But it really pisses me off since it only feeds my paranoia that I am not allowed to feel good in this world. Have you noticed that? Only an optimist would, I suppose, because a pessimist sees nothing but horror and pain. But I know that behind every shiny corner lurks a darkness just waiting to spring.

Sometimes this world is too predictable. Now, if a bunch of happy/cool things happened and there wasn’t a catch and nothing horrible happened in the following weeks, I think we’d all be pretty goddamn surprised. Let’s face it, we live in a world of shit, and everything bad that exists in this universe has a mailbox on Earth. At minimum. Some of the really bad shit is based here. Like Microsoft for example. Anyway, I try not to let it get me down, but when life is just relentlessly disappointing and dreary it’s hard not to get depressed. It doesn’t really bother me that much because I expect so little of the world. Whenever somebody I don’t know treats me with respect and kindness it’s a little surprising. When somebody cuts me off in traffic or acts like a child to get their way is that surprising? No way — that’s par-the-fucking-course.

Maybe that’s why I want a blog: to rant about all the stupid shit, most of it inconsequential. But a thousand pinpricks really adds up. I suppose some of you would rather live in denial and think that everything’s fine. Well, if you’re so happy with things, why not go over to Sudan and help out those people. You have nothing to fear, because life is peachy, right? And they won’t resent your interference because you’re just honestly trying to help, right? That’s how bad life on this planet is — when somebody does something selfless everybody else is immediately suspicious. I think you should help others, but be prepared to be kicked in the shins for your efforts.

Song of the moment: “Little Things” by Good Charlotte. Very appropriate for my topic here, eh?

Sorry to bring y’all down. That was not my intent when I started this post. Maybe it’s this February weather. Maybe it’s my throat, even more sore from screaming at Dreamweaver. Maybe it’s just me. Maybe you don’t give a fuck. Maybe I don’t either. I’ve got my Fear Factory albums for when I’m feeling really down. At least I know that they understand my situation; their songs are much bleaker than this post. So cheer up. Things can get much worse, but on the bright side, they might not! 🙂

Scratching My Ass

I had a tough time scratching my ass the other day. Normally, that’s a pretty easy process, but things ain’t always easy. Well, giving in is, I suppose. That’s what I didn’t want to do. I was at the Mall of America, catching a ride on the light-rail, which is not as easy as it sounds either. For one thing, this is located on the southeast side of the Mall and it’s a fucking shithole. They don’t clean up down there, probably because they figure us bus-ridin’, light-rail-taking folks are used to it. Fuck that. Anyway, there was a lot of people down there, trying to catch the train into the city, but every single ticket-machine was busted except one. Those machines are pieces of shit, but they can’t be expected to breeze through a Minnesota winter.

So me and my crew (which is to say Matt & Nikki) are waiting in line to get ticket that they will never bother to check. This old lady in front of us gets up to the machine and promptly starts to panic. She can’t get the damn machine to take her dollar bills. Everybody starts giving her advice. She’s on the verge of tears and can’t get anything right. Somebody yells for the cop to come help. He’d been been sitting over by the gates, scratching his ass.

You see, I wanted to scratch my ass, just like him. We’re all human after all, but I saw all the video cameras as I came down to that level, and the prospect of getting my rectum-rubbing on tape (or are they digital!) was not an appealing one. It was one of those un-holy itches where you know you’ve gotta jam your hand way back there in order to get at it. It’s kind of a private moment, and there was nothing nearby to kind of hide behind. (ha! get it?) So I just went for it. I’m sure you’ll see it if I ever get famous. The Ass Scratching Tape, they’ll call it. Or maybe Urges From the Deep. Regardless, I feel a little kinship with Paris Hilton, but not much. She’s still a skanky-ass slut who needs to be tied up and sent to live in the dirtiest part of Buenos Aires.

But (and I do mean “butt”) how can we as a society tape all of our lowliest citizens as they try to get on the bus — one of the easiest challenges we face daily — but we don’t put video cameras in corporate boardrooms, where they might actually catch something that threatens our safety and security. Instead, we prefer to be titillated. We know there’s something seedy going on at the bus station. And I’m sure there is. Theft, violence, drugs and stupidity — it’s all there. But we rarely catch anything substantial. What about the people who sit behind closed doors (because they can afford great oaken doors) and plot to steal millions or billions of dollars? What about those who slash thousands of jobs in order to make the stock go up short-term, which enables them to cash out and make millions? Why aren’t we monitoring them on camera? They are the people who need watching.

Do we really need video evidence to throw Jimmy Tough-Streets in jail? No, we’ve been throwing him in jail for years — centuries. But what about James Easy-Street — why doesn’t he ever do any time? He claims to employ many. Funny, he never talks about the people he impovrishes. Or about those killed in the managed wars that he particiapes in, all for the greater enrichment of the military-industrial complex. I bet he’s very content with the sorrow he’s wrought to others, just as I would be very happy if he were behind bars.

Do you think you can look at a person and tell if he’s good or evil by the clothes he wears? I think we make many judgments about people every day on that very basis — myself included — and most of it is baseless or banal. I see those politicians on TV in their expensive suits and I know that the people inside those suits aren’t worth more than a piece of rat shit, festering under the sun. Sure, not every person in the ghetto is a glowing example of class and decency, but at least you know what you’re getting. The rich and powerful lie and cheat and steal to say in power — or maybe just for fun. They think the poor would do the same thing in their position…..but would they?

I would like to make a break in the chain and not immediately dive into despoticism as soon as the cup of power touches my lips. Somehow it’s possible to end the cycle of oppression that has continued unabated for so many millenia. We humans are not rats. But our leaders treat us as if we are — is that how they see us? I’ve often thought that people who don’t trust others are themselves untrustworthy. I’m willing to give people a chance (but I’m not a foolish glutton for fallacy — thus the rant you’re reading), but the powerful will give few such a hearing. They look at you like you’re human filth, but it is the reflection in our eyes that they see.

So I try to look kindly at the old woman who can’t figure out a ticket machine. In her defense, the user interface was extremely crappy, and I as I was watching her try to use the machine, she did things that should have worked, but weren’t implemented by lazy programmers and the non-existant UI team. She was a woman plagued by the idiocy and greed of others. Did the company that made those machines know they were making a crappy product that wouldn’t stand up to winter or usage? Of course — they’re not that dumb! But they still got paid, and probably extremely well considering that it was juicy government contract (“Lots of overtime boys! Scratch your asses and get paid for it!”). Who suffers for their mistakes? Not them certainly — they don’t take public transportation! Are you crazy?! You can’t park an SUV on a bus (although they would if they could).

I hope you enjoy a little glimpse into the base realities of our culture and economy. Afterall, it affects all of us on a daily basis, and helps determine our station in life. I guess if you aren’t a rat, willing to crawl over the backs of the poor to get yours, then you don’t deserve it. Such is capitalism.

So when you see that Ass-ilistic Scratch-tastic video of mine, enjoy it. Your tax dollars paid for the video. Maybe there was a video camera in the ticket-machine, just like in ATMs. It’ll never break, of course. Maybe you can stare right at that old lady’s face as she nearly breaks down trying to get fucking ticket. Make sure you laugh — that could never be you, could it? You’re stronger, faster, smarter, better — right?

If you’re wondering, yes, she did eventual manage to get a ticket. She needed the help of the cop and four impatient strangers behind her, but she did it. And in her fluster she didn’t grab all of her change, leaving it for us to fish out, and then experience our own frustrations with the machine.

Nobody asked to look at any of our tickets. The cop was too busy helping people (poorly) use the machine and dreaming about his imminent retirement (looks like that 401K didn’t come through). Here we are, holding up the system on our backs, trying our best to color within the lines and not make waves. We do it every day. Do our elite, jet-set, power-broker leaders give a shit? No, they’re looking for the best way to explo
it both us and the system for their own personal gain. I don’t think your have to buy tickets when you have your own learjet. Although I’m sure they can be a real struggle, too. Oh, what a pity. I’m sympathetic — really!

And so the struggle continues. Sorry to bitch so much, but I’d like to be more of a muckraker than a whiner. Now you see what it’s like to be me. Just scratching my ass brings impossibly complex questions of wrong and right inside a cracked system. Maybe one day we’ll wake up and change the system. Until then, I’ll continue to worry about scracthing my ass in public.

Revelations (Stern is foul?!!!)

Did you hear that Howard Stern has been suspended by Clear Channel for being a “vulgar, offensive, and insulting” loudmouth. Well duh. Everybody knows that. I think it’s obvious that Clear Channel is reacting to the FCC & the public wave of outrage following the Janet Jackson breast thing, which I commented about earlier. Come on folks. Clear Channel had tuned into Howard’s show before this. That would be like Hugh Hefner running up to his executive team at Playboy and yelling, “My God! Why didn’t anybody tell me we’ve been selling pornography!!”

I still can’t believe people are still upset about the boob thing. Settle down people; it’s just a mammary. Who freaking cares? I guess I can’t seem to find any moral outrage…except at those pointy-headed know-it-alls who think they can decide what people can and cannot see. They use the classic “Oh, but what about the children?!” line until you relent just to stop the hysteria. If they weren’t on some sort of puritanical tirade they could plainly see that kids can handle seeing a breast. Heck, they probably spent the first months of their lives sucking peacefully on their mommy’s breast. I expect they have only good memories of breasts.

Conversely, what I would object to my kids seeing is scenes of horrific violence. Kids don’t need to see that shit! Extreme violence gives adults nightmares! But, we, as a society embrace violence even while we try to suppress sexuality. There’s this whole plutonic sex & death thing that we’ve got going here in the USA; it’s really out of balance. We can’t seem to tame our dark and violent side. I think that’s because we (or the powers that be) want to keep repressing us sexually, yet keep tempting us with lurid TV images. Cognitive dissonance. That’s exactly what Clear Channel is doing right now. They’ve given us lots of free Howard, but now they yank him away to look like they’re actually stern (ha!) moralists, when they are in fact smut peddlers. This tactic confuses people and makes us sleepy. And when we get sleepy we can’t find the urge to fight back against the daily corporate transgressions that so completely drench our lives.

What am I saying? I guess I’m saying that it’s all a bunch of bullshit. Something negative will result, such as increased censorship. Conversely, we will probably also see increased monitoring of citizens, regardless of who wins this absurd little game of chicken with our constitutional rights. Pretty soon we’ll end up like Britain, completely boxed-in with “security” cameras. Who’s security? Not mine, I gather. Somehow I don’t think they’ll let me see the tapes. Who does get to see the tapes? The lackeys of the ruling class, of course. No doubt the ruling class feels more comfortable when they can watch us discretely. You’ve got to see what those peasants are up to.

Okay, that’s it. You asked for it: 2 songs of the day. These songs perfectly capture my feelings about those who rule us. The first song is Megalomaniac by Incubus. What an awesome, haranguing chorus. I’ve never even heard anybody sing like that before. The second song is All In The Suit That You Wear by Stone Temple Pilots and it’s possibly the last song they will release. I’ve heard both of these songs today and I’ve thought about what they mean. …. God it’s good to say that. That’s not something you can say about just any song. These two songs mean something. I invite you to figure out what they mean on your own.

I’m sure you are all just dying to know what I think about the Janet Jackson’s boob-brouhaha. Well, maybe you aren’t but I’m going to give you my opinion anyway. Firstly, I didn’t see it live. I was watching the game at the bar, but I didn’t really pay attention to the commercials or the halftime show, except to notice that Puffy (or P-Diddy or whatever the fuck his stupid name is) brought new levels of suckiness to a suck-filled event. God, that was a bunch of crap. I think the FCC should hold an inquiry into who let P-Diddily on stage. Nobody should have to sit through that. It was probably 90 seconds but it felt like being in purgatory for eons. I had to stare at my beer and pretend I was watching George F. Will adjusting his bowtie while talking about fiscal responsibility – that would’ve been more entertaining! Boo-yah! Man, political humor mixed with pop culture references?! No wonder dozens of people mistakenly visit this weblog every month!

Anyway, as implied above, I thought P-Diddily-dumb was much more atrocious than Janet Jackson’s boobie. I have long wondered just where exactly America gets its priorities. Apparently it’s fine for prime time TV to have grisly murders and autopsies and all the crap you see on the news and on the crime-dramas, but nudity is completely unacceptable. I found it disturbing that everyone disavowed the whole stunt as if it was the worst thing ever. It’s not just the FCC; movies are the same way. The Star Wars movies, long regarded as children’s movies, are full of decapitations, dismemberments, death, and even torture. And they are all rated PG. Of course, if Princess Leia had whipped out a tit and yelled, “Hey Han, get a load of this!” the movie would’ve been rated R. Why is this? Well, it probably has something to do the fact that the MPAA is composed of a bunch of self-hating religious nutballs. No doubt the effects of the Production Code are still being felt on the industry. Religious folk have serious issues with nudity, but with their long history of slaughtering each other they could hardly object to violent imagery, I guess.

In keeping with our ridiculous tradition of hardcore puritanism, the nation objected to a person showing her God-given body parts on TV. Apparently, God gave us these parts so we could feel ashamed of them. This is because God hates us, his chosen people. God also gave us free will so that he could also give us a big list of things not to do. Um, yeah. I try to respect people and their beliefs, but really, most religious beliefs are just stupid. Can’t we just say at, “Do unto others…” and leave it at that? Do we really need elaborate dress codes (like the Mormons and their special underwear) and all these goofy rules that don’t do anything but make religious people look really dumb to the rest of us? And don’t get me wrong, I think God is totally rad (and really in need of money if the televangelists are to be believed), and each person should connect with Him/Her in their own way, but religious people tend to be a conformist lot. Even if they join some crazy-ass cult and walk around with a freshly-disembowled cat corpse on their head at all times (in keeping with the Word of the Prophet Mucho-Stupido, may he rest in peace), they sure as hell don’t do this alone! There’s always a support network of fellow morons, with whom they can share their struggles and their faith that God wants them to act like an idiot. Oh, and they’re ever-so-sure that God smiles upon them, and that everyone else is misguided! This is the kicker – these people think they have somehow managed to figure out God’s Divine Will when they can’t even figure out that they’re being swindled by a charismatic conman. The cult-leaders, of course, don’t believe in this shit one bit. They just believe God is helping them con innocent morons out of their money and their self-respect.

Oh man, I could go on and on about the follies of religion for hours. But why bother? Nobody listens to anyone else anyway. We’ve all got our own ideas about spirituality, and some people are just fucking retarded about it and there’s nothing I can do. Hmmm… well I guess I could rally the troops and slaughter the unbelievers, but I think that’s been done… far too often.

Or maybe I could start my own religion, more as a joke than anything since I despise organized religion. Mine will be disorganized. Actually, I have thought about this a bit, and I’ve decided to call it Timitarianism. The first rule of Timitarianism is that you do not talk about Timitarianism. The second rule of Timitarianism is that you sure as hell do not mention Timianity. What is Timianity, you ask? Well, Timianity is not to be mentioned!!! So ha! Actually, Timianity is a rival sect of Timitarianism. They didn’t agree with us on the subject of Tim’s divinity so we had to slaughter them. And their pets. And their plants and various shrubberies. Plus, we defaced their furniture and pissed in their wells, but that was after we had killed them, so it was really more of a “fuck you!” thing. Anyway, Timitarianism is a religion based around Tim (that’s me) and consisting of only one member: Tim (that’s me). I’ve decided that the big problem with religion isn’t the founders, like Jesus & Buddha, who were basically good guys. It’s the followers who are a bunch of numb-nut dumb-fucks. As such, Timitarianism will die with me.

What is the point of a religion that doesn’t have any followers you ask? Well, you’re a moron, and you haven’t been paying attention. First of all, it does have a follower: me. But since I’m also the Founder, I do a lot more foundering (er, I mean, “leading”) than following. Second, it’s not really a religion, it’s more of a declaration of faith in myself and a method for seeking the Truth. God, of course, is not a Timitarian because he knows the Truth. Once we know the Truth we will no longer need religion (and some of us don’t need it anyway – but I contend that everybody needs spirituality). So really, Timitarianism is more of a belief system, a way to interpret and understand the world, than a religion. Everybody needs some basic beliefs to base their life upon. I’m talking about really basic shit, like believing that the world is real and that the sky is up and that gravity keeps you down (and The Man!). We all build upon the basics, and everything is colored by our impressions and our unique perspective. The advantage (and disadvantage) of Timitarianism is that I am ultimately responsible. I can’t blame my beliefs on anyone else (i.e. “…but Prophet Mojo-Jimbo told me that Jesus would come back in the form of a large porcupine named Brenda, whom I must immediately eat in order to be Saved!”). I don’t know everything, but I know this probably confusing to many of my non-existant readers. Like the previous statement. But don’t blame me; religion pretty much invented the tactic of cognitive dissonance. I’m just following their lead! 🙂

All joking aside, I think everybody should have their own belief system. Oh wait, you already do. In fact, one of the biggest fallacies of religion is the idea that the followers might actually agree with each other on the majority of theological topics. Tell that to the pro-choice Catholics out there. So if they don’t even agree on the basic tenants of their religion, you have to wonder why they are a part of it. Maybe because the world is lonely and religion offers oneness with your fellow followers. But there has got to be a better way. What kind of community attacks its own members for not following arbitrary and stupid rules? Don’t even get me started on gay marriage. These religious nuts are the most hate-filled people on earth. You’re going to tell me about God when you haven’t even learned his most important lessons? As soon as Christians & other religious folk start practicing forgiveness and tolerance I might retract some of these statements. I think it’s more likely that they will grow wings out their asses and set up a nudist resort on the moon. Until then, don’t follow anyone. Be kind, and make your own path. You can’t be a Timitarian, but if you start your own internal faith you can be cool like me. Of course, you’d also be a conformist. Oh well.

Horkin' Fiber Chunks of Salsa

I don’t know if you noticed, but I started adding the time to my blog entries. This way I can post several times a day without confusing things. This also encourages all you internet wackos out there to check back here obsessively. Speaking of that, my birthday is coming up soon, so make sure you finish up those huge, overwrought gifts that’ve you’ve been spending countless hours on, okay?

You all know I’m kidding, of course. I know very well that nobody actually reads this ‘blog. I can check my web stats, ya know. Of course, it’s not like I’ve been a consistent blogger or anything, and it’s not like I’ve even advertised my site. A few of my friends stumbled on it, and I was like, “what, you actually go to my website periodically? Psycho. Stay away!!” Or not. Actually, though, I was quite surprised. It means I’m not writing into a gaping void. And here I thought that the best place to keep a journal was on the internet where everybody is too busy looking at porn to care. I figure if I wrote stuff down on a secret diary people might actually see the book and be curious. This way, I was sure, nobody would give a rat’s ass. Then I found out my mom was reading my blog. The horror. The HORROR! I saw an Onion article about it recently, and it hit a little too close to home, as they often do. Anyway, that was a while ago; maybe she’s moved on to more stimulating ventures like dusting the blinds.

I keep ragging on my blog’s lack of excitement for good reason, methinks. I don’t read blogs. None except Tom Tomorrow’s, that is. And his is a political blog; there are very few rants about the poor quality of American salsa.

Okay, you asked for it. I’m declaring jihad on crappy American salsa. Having tasted the real thing down in Mexico I realized that I can never go back. The only salsa you can buy up here in MN is that corporate sludge that has no taste. It’s always labelled as “SUPER-MEGA CHUNKY” or “SO MANY GODDAMN CHUNKS YOU’LL FUCKING HORK!!!” This is, at least, true advertising. There are so many chunks of crap that you can’t even fit them on a regular sized chip. That’s probably why they started making those huge corn ships that are about 18 inches long. Anyway, my point is this: FUCK CHUNKS! Give me some goddamned flavor! Where’s the spice! I bought a “medium” salsa the other day and it tasted like fucking ketchup. No wonder salsa has surpassed ketchup as the condiment in this country; nobody can tell the fucking difference! And, before you ask, I could not find a “Hot” or at least “Medium-Warm” salsa anywhere; that’s why I went with that godawful medium shite.

You may be concerned about war or terrorism. Fuck that; why can’t we get some decent salsa up north. That’s my biggest concern. Okay, I’m kidding, but it really does bother me. Salsa in Mexico (at least the stuff I had) comes in two flavors: Hot and Burn Your Tongue Off. I prefer the latter. And the chunks that were in there were chunks of flavor and spice! Oh sweet rapture! It was excellent. The Mexicans puree their salsa so it’s smoother, with smaller chunks that you don’t have to cut up with a knife or worry about choking to death on. And God I love the flavor; it makes me feel alive! My friends make fun of me for being obsessed with Ceasar dressing and A1 sauce, and stuff like that, but I don’t limit myself to those kinds of flavors. I like anything that has kick to it and a pleasing flavor, which is admittedly a very subjective thing. Suck the marrow out of life, that’s what I say. And then gnaw on the bone to see if you missed any flavor. When I was a kid I used to grab a box of Macaroni & Cheese and rip open the cheese packet and just eat that. Screw the noodles. I only ate those (dry and uncooked) so my mom would buy more. Damn, if I could buy those cheese packets in bulk…

Anyway, this rant does have a happy ending, because there is one place where you can find good salsa. I haven’t seen it in the stores yet, but Chipotle has excellent salsa. Their hot sauce doubles as salsa. Put some in your burrito or just have it with some of their chips, which are, I might add, authentic Mexican-style. I’ve been obsessed with Chipotle for awhile now, and given the lines that form at lunchtime downtown so is everybody else. Pretty soon it’ll be a lame, omnipresent corporate chain, but I don’t care as long as the food stays good. If they show up on every street corner like Subways and Starbucks, more power to’em. I’m willing to accept that in order to have good salsa in Minnesota. They say eating spicy food makes you happy. Damn straight.