So this is kind of funny, I googled my own name tonight (something I do with astounding regularity) and discovered an old blog post from my first attempt at writing a blog!
Originally, the name of this site was going to be "marcANDthecity.blogspot.com," but I set the project aside for a while and forgot about it. When I picked up writing the blog again I had forgotten all about the previous attempt! That said, I give you the very first (and only) post on marcandthecity.blogspot.com. It's about my move to New York, and the bright-eyed wonder of jaded post-graduate.
Flight to Newark
I just started writing this, but I've been meaning to start chronicling my move to NYC and the impending job search. That said, my posts won't be chronilogically accurate, but I hope that I can weave a cogent timeline about my journey. The long and short of it is that I came here with: 1) no money, 2) no job, and 3) all the passionate naivitae you'd expect from someone who moves to New York with no money and no job.
I landed in Newark, so I could stay in Hoboken for a few days with my good friend Pam, from the University of Denver Publishing Institute. I flew in expecting to sleep on a little patch of floor and was pleasently surprised when she told me her roommate was out of town and I could sleep on his bed! It was a glorious queen size bed with these incredible pillows that I would bet are the kind Brad and Angelina sleep on.
More later... I have to get out of this apartment or I'll go freakin' nuts.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Friday, February 27, 2009
Dunkin' Donuts
I usually don't go to Dunkin' Donuts. I don't like their coffee and whenever I eat donuts I feel like a big sweaty guy with coffee stains on his short-sleaved, button-down shirt, the one that's white with thin pink stripes. This sweaty guy works in a shitty little gray office and sells insurance over the phone. The office has no windows. As you can see, I've given this image a great deal of thought.
But I realized yesterday that Dunkin' Donuts has muffins. Muffins, of course! I should have known. There's a healthy snack I can enjoy that will fill me up without bringing me down!
Likely as a result of pressure from the FDA, Dunkin' Donuts has recently started putting calorie amounts on all of their products. That said, I was standing in line this morning and noticed that while a single Boston Creme donut is 280 calories, 1 chocolate chip muffin is 680 calories! WHAT?!
What the hell are you putting in those muffins, Dunkin' Donuts? Seriously, don't start serving salads, I don't even know what you'll do to those.
So I got 2 Boston Creme donuts, took them back to my window-less office, and drank some urine-flavored coffee while I looked at spreadsheets and tried to plan out my day.
America Runs on Dunkin'...
But I realized yesterday that Dunkin' Donuts has muffins. Muffins, of course! I should have known. There's a healthy snack I can enjoy that will fill me up without bringing me down!
Likely as a result of pressure from the FDA, Dunkin' Donuts has recently started putting calorie amounts on all of their products. That said, I was standing in line this morning and noticed that while a single Boston Creme donut is 280 calories, 1 chocolate chip muffin is 680 calories! WHAT?!
What the hell are you putting in those muffins, Dunkin' Donuts? Seriously, don't start serving salads, I don't even know what you'll do to those.
So I got 2 Boston Creme donuts, took them back to my window-less office, and drank some urine-flavored coffee while I looked at spreadsheets and tried to plan out my day.
America Runs on Dunkin'...
Friday, February 13, 2009
Dress Sharp, Look Smart
I dislike all clothes in all clothing stores I ever go to. Nothing ever looks good, and I have no sense of how things go together. I only look good in the colors: black, dark blue, and oddly, chartreuse. BT-dub, what's the deal with black linen pants? I mean seriously, pants are made out of linen so they're lightweight and breezy, so why would you dye them the hottest, most heat-absorbing color in existence? That's just dumb.
I have a weird frame, a good frame, for shirts (if they fit well); a really fantastic frame that houses a brilliant mind and a lovely set of teeth, but none of that matters to the clothing industry. I have a few shirts that fit me pretty well, but I have one shirt that fits me perfectly. I mean, seriously, it's like it was custom-made for me. I bought it when I was in middle school for a formal dance. It still fits, in fact, I wore it to work yesterday. It's not the best-looking shirt, but it just fits so damn well. I've never in my life found another shirt like it--and I've spent a lot of money searching. Brooks Brothers' shirts don't fit me this well, in fact, those fit me really horribly.
But this isn't constructive, not really at all. I guess I'm just frustrated. Frustrated by black linen pants, and shirts that don't fit well, and pants that tent up when I sit down at meetings. What I want is a good fit without a leopard print, I want a plain black shirt that doesn't look like something I bought at a maternity store. I want H&M to carry clothes that don't look like they're about to fall apart on the rack, I want Diesel to stop going crazy with the stitching, I want The Gap to grow a personality, I want Urban Outfitters to stop being so "indie precious," and I want Dov Charney to shave that stupid mustache.
This is my clothing manifesto. This is the moment when I start wearing jumpsuits everywhere (because you can do anything in a jump suit). Today I vow to be clean, not pretty; to be honest, and not wear superfluous zippers; to be sardonic without being sartorial. Welcome to the first day of the rest of my life, without matching socks.
I have a weird frame, a good frame, for shirts (if they fit well); a really fantastic frame that houses a brilliant mind and a lovely set of teeth, but none of that matters to the clothing industry. I have a few shirts that fit me pretty well, but I have one shirt that fits me perfectly. I mean, seriously, it's like it was custom-made for me. I bought it when I was in middle school for a formal dance. It still fits, in fact, I wore it to work yesterday. It's not the best-looking shirt, but it just fits so damn well. I've never in my life found another shirt like it--and I've spent a lot of money searching. Brooks Brothers' shirts don't fit me this well, in fact, those fit me really horribly.
But this isn't constructive, not really at all. I guess I'm just frustrated. Frustrated by black linen pants, and shirts that don't fit well, and pants that tent up when I sit down at meetings. What I want is a good fit without a leopard print, I want a plain black shirt that doesn't look like something I bought at a maternity store. I want H&M to carry clothes that don't look like they're about to fall apart on the rack, I want Diesel to stop going crazy with the stitching, I want The Gap to grow a personality, I want Urban Outfitters to stop being so "indie precious," and I want Dov Charney to shave that stupid mustache.
This is my clothing manifesto. This is the moment when I start wearing jumpsuits everywhere (because you can do anything in a jump suit). Today I vow to be clean, not pretty; to be honest, and not wear superfluous zippers; to be sardonic without being sartorial. Welcome to the first day of the rest of my life, without matching socks.
Playboy Centerfold
If I were a Playboy Centerfold, these would be the likes and dislikes to accompany the pictorial (along with some other details):
Likes:
- V-Neck T-Shirts
- Serial Dramas
- Cheerful Customer Service
Dislikes:
- Weak Handshakes
- Long Lines
- Bureaucracy
Additional Demands:
I insist on a bear-skin rug, but the bear skin must be Polar, or I walk.
The director must have a mustache, and when he's outside must always wear aviator sunglasses.
At least one picture will feature a sweater-vest (green).
Should the shoot proceed to 7:30pm, I demand a half-hour break to watch Jeopardy.
If Scott Baio shows up to the set, I'm not here and you never saw me.
The only music to be played will be "Basketball," by Kurtis Blow (on loop).
Production Rider:
(2) Boxes of Go-gurt (Blue Berry Blast flavor ONLY)
(1) Diving mask
(1) Pair flippers
(1) Snorkel
(8) Hard-boiled eggs
(1) PAAS decorating kit (NO stickers)
(4) Abyssinian Kittens
(1) Poster of Tracy Morgan wrestling a tiger
(1) DVD box-set of Mr. Show
(2) Other people's long-lost biological parents
Likes:
- V-Neck T-Shirts
- Serial Dramas
- Cheerful Customer Service
Dislikes:
- Weak Handshakes
- Long Lines
- Bureaucracy
Additional Demands:
I insist on a bear-skin rug, but the bear skin must be Polar, or I walk.
The director must have a mustache, and when he's outside must always wear aviator sunglasses.
At least one picture will feature a sweater-vest (green).
Should the shoot proceed to 7:30pm, I demand a half-hour break to watch Jeopardy.
If Scott Baio shows up to the set, I'm not here and you never saw me.
The only music to be played will be "Basketball," by Kurtis Blow (on loop).
Production Rider:
(2) Boxes of Go-gurt (Blue Berry Blast flavor ONLY)
(1) Diving mask
(1) Pair flippers
(1) Snorkel
(8) Hard-boiled eggs
(1) PAAS decorating kit (NO stickers)
(4) Abyssinian Kittens
(1) Poster of Tracy Morgan wrestling a tiger
(1) DVD box-set of Mr. Show
(2) Other people's long-lost biological parents
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Young Americans: Thoughts
I've realized that it's nigh impossible to watch an episode of Young Americans without making a drinking game out of it. But first, here are some things I've learned from Young Americans.
First, at wealthy all-boys schools there are only two classes: English and Rowing.
Rowing practices are held throughout the day, and are casual to the point where your friends can stop by and have a meaningful conversation with you in the middle of practice.
If you're constantly surrounded by boys and rarely see girls, it's difficult to determine which boys are actually girls wearing boys clothes--though the girl in boys' clothes has an extremely young, feminine-looking face, sort-of breast, and a higher than average speaking voice.
At all-boys schools there is only one teacher. This teacher is responsible for imparting all lessons of an academic nature, and generally about life.
Here's the makeshift drinking game:
+1: When Finn imparts a piece of wisdom to Will.
+1: When you see a boat.
+1: When any character rides a bike.
+1: When someone says the name of a famous writer or philosopher.
+1: When Bella is working on a car.
+1: When the Dean of Rawley Boys Academy is mentioned.
+1: When you hear Will's voice in voiceover form.
+2: When someone quotes a piece of famous writing, or quotes something a famous writer said.
+2: When you see Jake/Jacqueline wearing a bra.
+2: When you see a motorized boat of any kind.
+2: When Scout pines over Bella.
+2: When Will talks about how either he can't believe he's at Rawley, or how lucky he is about being at Rawley, or how Rawley is another world.
+2: When you see any girl other than Jacqueline or Bella.
+2: When you hear the word "scholarship."
+2: When someone sits on a dock.
+3: When any Nick Drake song plays.
+3: When you see any parent of a character other than Will's parents.
+3: When Will doles out wise advice to anyone (including Flinn).
+3: When Flinn tells Will he did a good job at something.
+3: When anyone says the words "New Rawley" together.
+3: When you see the Rawley Girls Academy.
+3: When someone talks about how they are from New Rawley and don't belong up there at Rawley (the school).
+3: When Scout professes his love for Bella (even though she's his sister).
+3: When Jake wears women's clothes.
+4: When Hamilton uses his camera.
+4: When Jake uses a computer.
+5: When you see the Dean of Rawley Boys Academy.
+5: When you see someone with an accent from a foreign country.
+5: When you see a minority.
+5: When someone orders a burger OR a Coke at Friendly's.
Finish the Bottle: When you realize all of these characters are supposed to be fifteen.
First, at wealthy all-boys schools there are only two classes: English and Rowing.
Rowing practices are held throughout the day, and are casual to the point where your friends can stop by and have a meaningful conversation with you in the middle of practice.
If you're constantly surrounded by boys and rarely see girls, it's difficult to determine which boys are actually girls wearing boys clothes--though the girl in boys' clothes has an extremely young, feminine-looking face, sort-of breast, and a higher than average speaking voice.
At all-boys schools there is only one teacher. This teacher is responsible for imparting all lessons of an academic nature, and generally about life.
Here's the makeshift drinking game:
+1: When Finn imparts a piece of wisdom to Will.
+1: When you see a boat.
+1: When any character rides a bike.
+1: When someone says the name of a famous writer or philosopher.
+1: When Bella is working on a car.
+1: When the Dean of Rawley Boys Academy is mentioned.
+1: When you hear Will's voice in voiceover form.
+2: When someone quotes a piece of famous writing, or quotes something a famous writer said.
+2: When you see Jake/Jacqueline wearing a bra.
+2: When you see a motorized boat of any kind.
+2: When Scout pines over Bella.
+2: When Will talks about how either he can't believe he's at Rawley, or how lucky he is about being at Rawley, or how Rawley is another world.
+2: When you see any girl other than Jacqueline or Bella.
+2: When you hear the word "scholarship."
+2: When someone sits on a dock.
+3: When any Nick Drake song plays.
+3: When you see any parent of a character other than Will's parents.
+3: When Will doles out wise advice to anyone (including Flinn).
+3: When Flinn tells Will he did a good job at something.
+3: When anyone says the words "New Rawley" together.
+3: When you see the Rawley Girls Academy.
+3: When someone talks about how they are from New Rawley and don't belong up there at Rawley (the school).
+3: When Scout professes his love for Bella (even though she's his sister).
+3: When Jake wears women's clothes.
+4: When Hamilton uses his camera.
+4: When Jake uses a computer.
+5: When you see the Dean of Rawley Boys Academy.
+5: When you see someone with an accent from a foreign country.
+5: When you see a minority.
+5: When someone orders a burger OR a Coke at Friendly's.
Finish the Bottle: When you realize all of these characters are supposed to be fifteen.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Young Americans
I've decided to start watching Young Americans. It was only 1 season, so I feel like it's not a terribly intense commitment. I just finished the first episode and already there's: incest, cross-dressing, computer hacking, New England sunsets, and test fraud. Man, this show is going to be awesome. I'll keep you posted.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Yell-HO Cab... See what I did there?
A'ite, I took a cab last night and the card machine wasn't working. So I swiped my card once, then twice, then tried another card, then told him his machine was broken. So the driver resets the machine, I swipe the card again, and it works.
Turns out, this morning when I check my balance, that machine (while it was telling me my card wasn't authorized) was actually charging me every time I swiped it.
So, you know, no big deal. I'll just call the cab company, show them the four charges in immediate succession, and they'll just reverse the charges, right? Nope! Apparently I have to go to court to dispute the charges! In order to file a complaint you have to file a formal complaint, which involves receipt information (cabs never EVER give you receipts), then go to court and testify about how the cab company wronged you.
What the F? How does this make sense? Isn't it a company? Isn't there someone I can call who isn't a call center automaton who would be like, "Oh, this is obviously not right. Here is your money back--beep, boop, boop. Problem solved." This city is just fucking out of control sometimes with its beurocracy and excessive taxes.
On the phone while I talked to the woman telling me I'd have to file a court date I appealed to her sense of logic and she tried transferring me to the actual cab and limosine comission (because apparently the complaint number online doesn't actually go to the cab commision--which they failed to tell me initially). But, of course, the cab and limosine commission call center is only open Monday - Friday... so I'll have to wait until Monday to argue with a bored person on a headset and convince them that they have stolen $45.00 from me.
I can't wait.
Turns out, this morning when I check my balance, that machine (while it was telling me my card wasn't authorized) was actually charging me every time I swiped it.
So, you know, no big deal. I'll just call the cab company, show them the four charges in immediate succession, and they'll just reverse the charges, right? Nope! Apparently I have to go to court to dispute the charges! In order to file a complaint you have to file a formal complaint, which involves receipt information (cabs never EVER give you receipts), then go to court and testify about how the cab company wronged you.
What the F? How does this make sense? Isn't it a company? Isn't there someone I can call who isn't a call center automaton who would be like, "Oh, this is obviously not right. Here is your money back--beep, boop, boop. Problem solved." This city is just fucking out of control sometimes with its beurocracy and excessive taxes.
On the phone while I talked to the woman telling me I'd have to file a court date I appealed to her sense of logic and she tried transferring me to the actual cab and limosine comission (because apparently the complaint number online doesn't actually go to the cab commision--which they failed to tell me initially). But, of course, the cab and limosine commission call center is only open Monday - Friday... so I'll have to wait until Monday to argue with a bored person on a headset and convince them that they have stolen $45.00 from me.
I can't wait.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
How Much Do I Owe the State of New York, Again?
I did my taxes tonight. Apparently I owe the state of New York $540. For some reason it wasn't being taken out of my paycheck. I don't know if this is the recession or what, but it kind of goes without saying, this was unexpected.
Last year I made money, lots of money, buy a new mattress kind of money. But this year, not so much. My federal refund was $38. This was unhelpful, in fact, I felt like the federal government was mocking me. This was made doubly obnoxious when TurboTax charged me $67 for the pleasure of finding out I owe the government $540 dollars.
Here's the thing, though: what am I paying for? I don't drive, so am I paying for roads? No. I don't partake in any government-funded heathcare facilities, I have insurance. Kids, of course, if I had kids I'd be paying for school funding, and that's a noble cause, right? Oh, but I don't have children. In fact, one of the primary reasons I don't have children is because they cost a lot of money--maybe even more than $540. But Marc, surely you enjoy driving around on public streets in your sweet ride! Nope, no car. I don't drive and I love it, what I don't love is paying public works via the state government for roads and highways that I never use. Give me an intricate series of trails and my $540, and I'll buy myself a dirt bike.
So what am I paying for? Why am I paying these absurd, inflated federal taxes? We deduct for so many things already. Here are some questions TurboTax asked me this evening: Did you have a baby this year? Did you get married? Did you pay college tuition? What is the definition of "peripatetic?"
All of the answers to the above questions were No, aside from the last one. The definition of peripatetic is: (adj.) one who travels or walks from place to place. There's your word of the day.
What's going on with that Obama $2500 stimulus check? The Republicans want tax cuts, and to raise tax credits on home purchases from $7500 to $15000... I've got an idea: how 'bout we get those checks printed up so I can PAY MY TAXES!
Here's another interesting point, one that's less irrationally bitter: If we create a stimulus package that benefits only homeowners, that doesn't trickle over to me. Sure, the banks have money to lend again (hopefully, but I don't necessarily see how tax credits on home purchases do that), and homeowners are doing better, but how does that trickle over to me? Homeowners have more money to spend, they maybe get lower interest rates. But does this plan work under the assumption that the homeowners and banks alone will pull us out of this tailspin? The banks are going to keep lending "fake" money, and if homeowners get that break sure, maybe they'll spend the savings in the country and stimulate the economy...
But hey, hello, lest we forget about Marc in the City, the city that's making him pay $540 in state taxes! Look, what I'm saying, B-rock (if I can call you that), is that you're gonna' lose me to the other side if you don't get this shit handled. I like my money. I like having nice things, and not being in debt, and not having panic attacks when I have to fork over $500.
Why do I keep bringing up that $540? Well, think of it this way: If I was in a car accident and had to pay the hospital $540 before my insurance claim went through (which happens more often than you think), or perhaps my car broke down and the only way I could get to my job so I could make money was to throw down $500 for brakes. Incidentally, both of things have happened to me, actually, the brakes were $800. Luckily I was working in a job that provided me with a good income, and was living in a time when there weren't 800,000/day.
So here's the thing, federal government: you need to get your relationship with the states in order. You let California legalize medical marijuana, then you raid their shops and criminalize the owners. You have a government coffer that takes a bunch of my money, then the state of my residence takes even more. And you know what? I get that. I understand that federal funds are used for bigger things like welfare, and social security, and bombs; and I get that state funds are used for state things: like schools, and roads, and state-operated walk-in clinics, and whatever else. But hey, I know, the government does some good things, and has some good intentions.
Social Security, that's a very nice idea. So is welfare. And you know what, I fucking love the US Postal Service. But due to party bickering and their inability to make any decisions, and due to bad management, and due to the fact that these funds are tied up in so many other government projects that if one falls the others sink. It's a delicate lattice, you could say.
Let me explain that last point: If there's a big pool for social security and there's a big pool for the war on terror and there's a big pool for welfare, the one that holds precedent gets to take money from the other pools. And who decides who gets this money? The administration. No shit, Marc, I already understood that.
How can we divide these pools adequately so they don't bounce back and fourth, F each other up, and generally wreak a bunch of nonsensical havoc? Let's start with me being really honest: I don't want to pay for Jolene's baby over there in Mississippi or wherever. She made some bad decisions and she should deal with them. Then again, Jolene works at Taco Bell and doesn't have insurance? So she's in a pickle, right? Or I am, because I'm paying for her birth, or even abortion for that matter. Well, let's privatize that shit. Corporations work in a competitive market, and the market yields competitive prices that ultimately yield the most economical solution for everyone.
OK, that makes sense. Let's forget John McCain's insane health insurance credit voucher for $10,000 or whatever it was that you could use however you saw fit (my work insurance plan is probably somewhere around $30,000, which very clearly illustrates how ridiculously feeble the McCain plan was--out of touch, etc.). But we're forgetting that. How about we all pay a certain amount of money to the company of our choice and they provide insurance? Well, where does that leave people who can't afford that basic health insurance? Shit happens, people get cancer and cancer doesn't fucking care if you're rich or poor or Rick James or Jolene the Taco Bell employee of the month. So Jolene has cancer now (sorry Jolene), and her privatized insurance plan is the introductory one (the Silver Plan), the one that says you can only have generic medication and co-pays are extravagant. She can only see certain doctors, and only certain medications are covered, because she could only afford the plan that covers flu-shots, and ear infections, and broken arms.
Now here's me, rolling up to the hospital, with (by-God!) the same cancer. But look, I have the Platinum Plan. Let's hook that shit up! Give me the good pain meds, play a movie on the HD while I drink my chemo smoothie and try to get this cancer licked so I can make my 7:30 flight to Prague.
What I'm getting at is that privatizing medical care creates this massive gap between the income brackets, to the point where we have the very very poor being sick, and the very very rich balling it up on a yacht in the Baltic Sea. But Marc, if all the poor people are gone won't we just be left with all the rich people? That sounds great! Survival of the Fittest!
No asshole, someone's got to steer the yacht. Someone's got to prepare the sushi that you're eating off that European supermodel's naked body. Look, all this does is perpetuate an income schism that benefits the rich and punishes the poor. Incidentally, the middle-class, you don't exist anymore... sorry.
So what's left? The government? Of course, the government, they don't care about rich or poor! They don't care if you made $100 or $100,000 dollars last year! But hey government, I already told you, I don't want to pay for Jolene's baby. Hmm... that's a toughy.
Well, Marc, says the government. How do you feel about paying a very small fraction of Jolene's baby, and in return she'll pay a very small fraction of a yet to be determined ailment you have later?
Hmm, tell me more.
Well, see, if we take everyone's couple dollars here and there, we can put it in a big pool. But not just any pool, it's its very own little program, its own little fund that can't be touched by anyone. It applies to everyone, so why don't we call it "Universal Healthcare."
Again, hmm... government, I think that makes sense, but like I said, I don't like the idea of paying for Jolene's baby.
Look, Marc, here's the deal, says the government. Stop being a selfish dick. I get that you work hard for your money, I really do. But ultimately, in the grand scheme of things, this makes sense for you too. See, if Jolene can have her baby, and not have to worry about making ends meet, and struggling to pay bills while feeding her baby, it creates a culture of destruction.
Whoa, government, you're getting a little dramatic.
Hear me out, Marc. Maybe "culture of destruction" was dramatic, but how about: it lowers the mean quality of life. See, if Jolene is constantly struggling it puts a strain on the other entities around her, much like the lattice you described above. If Jolene has relatives, she's going to borrow money from them, or maybe move in with them. Now, because she doesn't have that money she's not buying her own home, she not creating equity for herself.
As a result, she's working hand to mouth and not striving to become more. Maybe she didn't go to college because she was stuck working for her baby. Because she didn't go to college, she didn't get that job with that publishing company where she was a very good employee (would be employee of the month, if they had that sort of thing). She's participating in the global market now, the workforce. She's not pushed down be the inability to pay her bills, but pulled up by the possibility of a future. When we pull Jolene up from the Taco Bell, it pulls everyone like her up too. That's good for you (you Platinum Plan sonuvabitch) because now you have more skilled workers to apply towards your vision of electric cars, or jet packs, or publishing literature that entertains or makes people think in new and interesting ways.
Sure, it's going to be hard for her to go to school and raise a kid, but she can do it--Jolene's a smart girl. In fact, Jolene happens to have an exceptional aptitude for lateral thinking, but you wouldn't find that out if she never learned what lateral thinking was.
But doesn't that mean everyone's taxes go up?
Well... yes. But hey, we kind of already talked about the benefits of that. I get that you're rich, hypothetically wealthy Marc, and I, the government, understand that you don't feel like you should have to pay for a something you could easily find cheaper. The thing is, this is better for all of us in the long run. And someday, when you decide to have that baby, it'll be nice to know that you can keep your wallet in your back pocket, even if you could have thrown down the cash.
But won't people start having babies and doing drugs all the time and not taking care of themselves if the solutions (free birthing/abortions, drug rehab, and lypo-suction/gastric bypass surgery) are readily available?
That's a stupid question.
I think it's a very good question.
OK, here's the deal: People are going to have babies they don't want to have, people are going to do drugs if they want to do drugs, peeps is gonna' eat them Big Macs. But now that drug addict has options and can become a productive member of society once he's off the shit. Rich people don't say "Oh, I'm gonna' get addicted to heroin, then when it gets out of hand I'll just go to the rehab clinic and be cured and look back on the experience as a wild lark." That doesn't happen. Fat-ness is a lifestyle. Look at you. You don't eat a lot of sugar, take the stairs whenever possible, Marc, you run for fun for Christ sake. And I know you like all that greasy food shit. I've seen you eat a burger with a milkshake more than once. But are you going to do that everyday now because you can get bypass surgery whenever you want? No. Fat people (fuck saying "obese," they're fat) have glandular issues, self-control issues, or whatever. People don't choose to be fat. Being fat sucks. You can't go up stairs, or walk very far. Fatness comes with breathing problems, risk of kidney failure, all that fun shit. Let's cure the disease, not treat the symptoms. Maybe if people weren't paying off that un-insured abortion they can start eating organic. They won't, I'm just saying. Being fat is an American thing, OK, let's be honest. You want to stop fatness in America, I don't even know where to begin. But it's not going to get to the point where we're handing out vouchers for stomach stapling with every order of 16-piece original recipe KFC.
Huh. I feel like I'm forgetting something.
If you think of it later we can come back to it.
But, isn't this Socialism?
(sigh) I hate you, Marc.
What? I think that's a fair question. And honestly, didn't you kind of see it coming?
I kind of did, yeah. It's not socialism. Socialism is a label that extremists have put on government programs because it makes everyone think of the USSR. What do you call it when a parent tells their kid to share.
Socialism?
No, parenting. You call that parenting. They're giving their kid the tools they need to be a useful member of society. The parents aren't following their kids to school and distributing blocks equally to everyone, they're just giving an over-arching plan that helps all the kids and creates a better child.
I'm lost.
Let's look at Universal Healthcare, because that's what we're talking about. You and Jolene each pay, let's say, $300/year for this healthcare system, organized and run and operated by the government. Now you go live your life and Jolene, you go live your life. Get a job doing what you love, go to school, look up that cute boy you went to high school with, meet for coffee, flirt a little, fool around in your one-bedroom, and marry. Fuck, I don't care. And when Jolene and that kid from high school need shots for their baby, here I am, the government, to give the kid his shots. You're not a number, and you're not a faceless citizen. You never will be, because I understand that that's tyranny, that's totalitarian bullshit.
I know, "well government, if you think everyone should pay the same amount into a large coffer and they're all equal and all that, what happens when you start dictating where people should work? Where manpower should be best allocated? When do you take over corporations and start paying everyone equally for the same amount of work, and you become the Gulag?"
Here's the thing, Marc. That's not going to happen. There's that part in the constitution that talks about citizens rebelling against a crooked government. If you want to go with that argument you can. Otherwise, here's another one. I'm not going to lose sight of democracy, that's the difference between me and the Soviet Russia. I understand capitalism, and competition is necessary. I hate to say this because it's kind of an easy argument, but look at Sweden! Shit, those people are happy, they elect their own officials and have universal healthcare, and they're doing just terrific. If you're rich, you're still going to be rich. Shoot, Steve Forbes, you can stand to pay $300/year or whatever. Let's not talk about percentages and tax bracket payments and all that because it'll complicate things. And after you pay that $300/year you're not going to be poor, you're still going to be one of the wealthiest people in the world. I'm not going to swoop down and surreptitiously steal all your money. Stop being an extremist. I can be extreme. How about I start calling you and Pat Buchanan and all the other Republicans "Conservative Fundamentalists?" Sounds pretty harsh, right? Well... fuck you.
You're not a very good speller, government.
I hear that all the time.
I guess I kind of understand the value of taxes now. They have the potential to do great things for people. My wrist surgery cost me thousands of dollars (and my parents--they definitely paid a lot of that--thank you). These were dollars I could have used to pay off my credit cards, or go out to dinner more, and generally stimulate the economy. That massive medical bill not only effected me, but my family, and all the businesses that would have benefited from my hated of cooking and borderline alcoholism.
So, the $540... are we good?
NO! Fuck no! Are you kidding me? Look, government, all that stuff you said about Universal Healthcare, and the general good of taxing for certain things, that made plenty of sense to me. But here's the thing, I'm not reaping any benefits from it. It's like I said before, the state of New York charged me an absurd amount of money and helped me how? Honestly, how has my quality of life improved in New York because of these taxes. I still live in a pretty shitty apartment for how much I pay, and my streets are covered in dog shit all the time. I'm willing to pay my share, I ride the subway, I put trash out, but $540? Our school system is fucking awful, one of the worst in the world. I sound like a snob saying that, but it's bad. I should be able to speak French now. I should be able to multiply three-digit numbers together in my head. I should understand basic Physics principles. But I don't. That's not to mention the federal taxes I paid, thanks for the $38 back, btw.
Look, let me break this down for you, old school. Government, let's just call you "Obama," because it's short than G-o-v-e-r-n... you get the idea. You took the keys to this car crash of a country and got a raw deal, I get that. You want to be a uniter, not a divider, sure. Everybody should love everybody, let's make an orgy of ideas where everyone gets their swerve on, whatever. But now you're holding up your stimulus package because you want Republi... I mean, Conservative Fundamentalist support?
I read, I know that the mortgage crisis was actually more the liberals fault than anyones, but you know what wasn't--Iraq. You know what wasn't--Afghanistan. You know what wasn't--The destruction of social security, welfare, and several other programs that the government said were valuable and were tossed away like trash. You're the boss now, baby, and don't let my casual words dilute the powerful meaning behind them. You know who fucked up the country, the people you're trying to gain support from. So get under the hood, roll up those elephant sleeves and tinker around for a while, start the engine, and let's take this sonuvabitch for a drive. What they did wasn't working, but you control the House, the Senate, and the White House. The White House, to be honest, isn't necessarily the most powerful entity of those three, in fact, it's probably the least powerful because the White House doesn't vote for shit. The White House doesn't pass bills, or stimulus packages.
I'm getting off track. Scroll up, look at universal healthcare; let's just say it, look at all those things the Republics call socialism. It's your game now, you're the implement of change. The reason I'm pissed off about the $540 isn't because I don't know where it's going, it's that I know where it is going. I know it's going to a lot of bickering, a lot of things that are the product of two parties who are unable to understand each other. So that's why you want to be a uniter, not a divider. But here's a little piece of cynical, but honest advice: that's. never. going. to. fucking. happen. You know who could pull out of the recession? Santa Claus.
The best you can do, use the chance you got. Make changes that you know are good. And make those changes so good and so right and so beneficial to the general population that when you're out of office no one would dare reverse them. Make 'em think taking away the things you created are tyranny, that's how you're going to enact change, and that's how you're going to bring people together. Use those four or eight years to muscle your liberal agenda through the country, because God knows that's what the Republicans did for eight years. For god sake, don't just nance around and get everyone to hold hands, fucking fight. And when you do, I'll gladly pay my $540.
Last year I made money, lots of money, buy a new mattress kind of money. But this year, not so much. My federal refund was $38. This was unhelpful, in fact, I felt like the federal government was mocking me. This was made doubly obnoxious when TurboTax charged me $67 for the pleasure of finding out I owe the government $540 dollars.
Here's the thing, though: what am I paying for? I don't drive, so am I paying for roads? No. I don't partake in any government-funded heathcare facilities, I have insurance. Kids, of course, if I had kids I'd be paying for school funding, and that's a noble cause, right? Oh, but I don't have children. In fact, one of the primary reasons I don't have children is because they cost a lot of money--maybe even more than $540. But Marc, surely you enjoy driving around on public streets in your sweet ride! Nope, no car. I don't drive and I love it, what I don't love is paying public works via the state government for roads and highways that I never use. Give me an intricate series of trails and my $540, and I'll buy myself a dirt bike.
So what am I paying for? Why am I paying these absurd, inflated federal taxes? We deduct for so many things already. Here are some questions TurboTax asked me this evening: Did you have a baby this year? Did you get married? Did you pay college tuition? What is the definition of "peripatetic?"
All of the answers to the above questions were No, aside from the last one. The definition of peripatetic is: (adj.) one who travels or walks from place to place. There's your word of the day.
What's going on with that Obama $2500 stimulus check? The Republicans want tax cuts, and to raise tax credits on home purchases from $7500 to $15000... I've got an idea: how 'bout we get those checks printed up so I can PAY MY TAXES!
Here's another interesting point, one that's less irrationally bitter: If we create a stimulus package that benefits only homeowners, that doesn't trickle over to me. Sure, the banks have money to lend again (hopefully, but I don't necessarily see how tax credits on home purchases do that), and homeowners are doing better, but how does that trickle over to me? Homeowners have more money to spend, they maybe get lower interest rates. But does this plan work under the assumption that the homeowners and banks alone will pull us out of this tailspin? The banks are going to keep lending "fake" money, and if homeowners get that break sure, maybe they'll spend the savings in the country and stimulate the economy...
But hey, hello, lest we forget about Marc in the City, the city that's making him pay $540 in state taxes! Look, what I'm saying, B-rock (if I can call you that), is that you're gonna' lose me to the other side if you don't get this shit handled. I like my money. I like having nice things, and not being in debt, and not having panic attacks when I have to fork over $500.
Why do I keep bringing up that $540? Well, think of it this way: If I was in a car accident and had to pay the hospital $540 before my insurance claim went through (which happens more often than you think), or perhaps my car broke down and the only way I could get to my job so I could make money was to throw down $500 for brakes. Incidentally, both of things have happened to me, actually, the brakes were $800. Luckily I was working in a job that provided me with a good income, and was living in a time when there weren't 800,000/day.
So here's the thing, federal government: you need to get your relationship with the states in order. You let California legalize medical marijuana, then you raid their shops and criminalize the owners. You have a government coffer that takes a bunch of my money, then the state of my residence takes even more. And you know what? I get that. I understand that federal funds are used for bigger things like welfare, and social security, and bombs; and I get that state funds are used for state things: like schools, and roads, and state-operated walk-in clinics, and whatever else. But hey, I know, the government does some good things, and has some good intentions.
Social Security, that's a very nice idea. So is welfare. And you know what, I fucking love the US Postal Service. But due to party bickering and their inability to make any decisions, and due to bad management, and due to the fact that these funds are tied up in so many other government projects that if one falls the others sink. It's a delicate lattice, you could say.
Let me explain that last point: If there's a big pool for social security and there's a big pool for the war on terror and there's a big pool for welfare, the one that holds precedent gets to take money from the other pools. And who decides who gets this money? The administration. No shit, Marc, I already understood that.
How can we divide these pools adequately so they don't bounce back and fourth, F each other up, and generally wreak a bunch of nonsensical havoc? Let's start with me being really honest: I don't want to pay for Jolene's baby over there in Mississippi or wherever. She made some bad decisions and she should deal with them. Then again, Jolene works at Taco Bell and doesn't have insurance? So she's in a pickle, right? Or I am, because I'm paying for her birth, or even abortion for that matter. Well, let's privatize that shit. Corporations work in a competitive market, and the market yields competitive prices that ultimately yield the most economical solution for everyone.
OK, that makes sense. Let's forget John McCain's insane health insurance credit voucher for $10,000 or whatever it was that you could use however you saw fit (my work insurance plan is probably somewhere around $30,000, which very clearly illustrates how ridiculously feeble the McCain plan was--out of touch, etc.). But we're forgetting that. How about we all pay a certain amount of money to the company of our choice and they provide insurance? Well, where does that leave people who can't afford that basic health insurance? Shit happens, people get cancer and cancer doesn't fucking care if you're rich or poor or Rick James or Jolene the Taco Bell employee of the month. So Jolene has cancer now (sorry Jolene), and her privatized insurance plan is the introductory one (the Silver Plan), the one that says you can only have generic medication and co-pays are extravagant. She can only see certain doctors, and only certain medications are covered, because she could only afford the plan that covers flu-shots, and ear infections, and broken arms.
Now here's me, rolling up to the hospital, with (by-God!) the same cancer. But look, I have the Platinum Plan. Let's hook that shit up! Give me the good pain meds, play a movie on the HD while I drink my chemo smoothie and try to get this cancer licked so I can make my 7:30 flight to Prague.
What I'm getting at is that privatizing medical care creates this massive gap between the income brackets, to the point where we have the very very poor being sick, and the very very rich balling it up on a yacht in the Baltic Sea. But Marc, if all the poor people are gone won't we just be left with all the rich people? That sounds great! Survival of the Fittest!
No asshole, someone's got to steer the yacht. Someone's got to prepare the sushi that you're eating off that European supermodel's naked body. Look, all this does is perpetuate an income schism that benefits the rich and punishes the poor. Incidentally, the middle-class, you don't exist anymore... sorry.
So what's left? The government? Of course, the government, they don't care about rich or poor! They don't care if you made $100 or $100,000 dollars last year! But hey government, I already told you, I don't want to pay for Jolene's baby. Hmm... that's a toughy.
Well, Marc, says the government. How do you feel about paying a very small fraction of Jolene's baby, and in return she'll pay a very small fraction of a yet to be determined ailment you have later?
Hmm, tell me more.
Well, see, if we take everyone's couple dollars here and there, we can put it in a big pool. But not just any pool, it's its very own little program, its own little fund that can't be touched by anyone. It applies to everyone, so why don't we call it "Universal Healthcare."
Again, hmm... government, I think that makes sense, but like I said, I don't like the idea of paying for Jolene's baby.
Look, Marc, here's the deal, says the government. Stop being a selfish dick. I get that you work hard for your money, I really do. But ultimately, in the grand scheme of things, this makes sense for you too. See, if Jolene can have her baby, and not have to worry about making ends meet, and struggling to pay bills while feeding her baby, it creates a culture of destruction.
Whoa, government, you're getting a little dramatic.
Hear me out, Marc. Maybe "culture of destruction" was dramatic, but how about: it lowers the mean quality of life. See, if Jolene is constantly struggling it puts a strain on the other entities around her, much like the lattice you described above. If Jolene has relatives, she's going to borrow money from them, or maybe move in with them. Now, because she doesn't have that money she's not buying her own home, she not creating equity for herself.
As a result, she's working hand to mouth and not striving to become more. Maybe she didn't go to college because she was stuck working for her baby. Because she didn't go to college, she didn't get that job with that publishing company where she was a very good employee (would be employee of the month, if they had that sort of thing). She's participating in the global market now, the workforce. She's not pushed down be the inability to pay her bills, but pulled up by the possibility of a future. When we pull Jolene up from the Taco Bell, it pulls everyone like her up too. That's good for you (you Platinum Plan sonuvabitch) because now you have more skilled workers to apply towards your vision of electric cars, or jet packs, or publishing literature that entertains or makes people think in new and interesting ways.
Sure, it's going to be hard for her to go to school and raise a kid, but she can do it--Jolene's a smart girl. In fact, Jolene happens to have an exceptional aptitude for lateral thinking, but you wouldn't find that out if she never learned what lateral thinking was.
But doesn't that mean everyone's taxes go up?
Well... yes. But hey, we kind of already talked about the benefits of that. I get that you're rich, hypothetically wealthy Marc, and I, the government, understand that you don't feel like you should have to pay for a something you could easily find cheaper. The thing is, this is better for all of us in the long run. And someday, when you decide to have that baby, it'll be nice to know that you can keep your wallet in your back pocket, even if you could have thrown down the cash.
But won't people start having babies and doing drugs all the time and not taking care of themselves if the solutions (free birthing/abortions, drug rehab, and lypo-suction/gastric bypass surgery) are readily available?
That's a stupid question.
I think it's a very good question.
OK, here's the deal: People are going to have babies they don't want to have, people are going to do drugs if they want to do drugs, peeps is gonna' eat them Big Macs. But now that drug addict has options and can become a productive member of society once he's off the shit. Rich people don't say "Oh, I'm gonna' get addicted to heroin, then when it gets out of hand I'll just go to the rehab clinic and be cured and look back on the experience as a wild lark." That doesn't happen. Fat-ness is a lifestyle. Look at you. You don't eat a lot of sugar, take the stairs whenever possible, Marc, you run for fun for Christ sake. And I know you like all that greasy food shit. I've seen you eat a burger with a milkshake more than once. But are you going to do that everyday now because you can get bypass surgery whenever you want? No. Fat people (fuck saying "obese," they're fat) have glandular issues, self-control issues, or whatever. People don't choose to be fat. Being fat sucks. You can't go up stairs, or walk very far. Fatness comes with breathing problems, risk of kidney failure, all that fun shit. Let's cure the disease, not treat the symptoms. Maybe if people weren't paying off that un-insured abortion they can start eating organic. They won't, I'm just saying. Being fat is an American thing, OK, let's be honest. You want to stop fatness in America, I don't even know where to begin. But it's not going to get to the point where we're handing out vouchers for stomach stapling with every order of 16-piece original recipe KFC.
Huh. I feel like I'm forgetting something.
If you think of it later we can come back to it.
But, isn't this Socialism?
(sigh) I hate you, Marc.
What? I think that's a fair question. And honestly, didn't you kind of see it coming?
I kind of did, yeah. It's not socialism. Socialism is a label that extremists have put on government programs because it makes everyone think of the USSR. What do you call it when a parent tells their kid to share.
Socialism?
No, parenting. You call that parenting. They're giving their kid the tools they need to be a useful member of society. The parents aren't following their kids to school and distributing blocks equally to everyone, they're just giving an over-arching plan that helps all the kids and creates a better child.
I'm lost.
Let's look at Universal Healthcare, because that's what we're talking about. You and Jolene each pay, let's say, $300/year for this healthcare system, organized and run and operated by the government. Now you go live your life and Jolene, you go live your life. Get a job doing what you love, go to school, look up that cute boy you went to high school with, meet for coffee, flirt a little, fool around in your one-bedroom, and marry. Fuck, I don't care. And when Jolene and that kid from high school need shots for their baby, here I am, the government, to give the kid his shots. You're not a number, and you're not a faceless citizen. You never will be, because I understand that that's tyranny, that's totalitarian bullshit.
I know, "well government, if you think everyone should pay the same amount into a large coffer and they're all equal and all that, what happens when you start dictating where people should work? Where manpower should be best allocated? When do you take over corporations and start paying everyone equally for the same amount of work, and you become the Gulag?"
Here's the thing, Marc. That's not going to happen. There's that part in the constitution that talks about citizens rebelling against a crooked government. If you want to go with that argument you can. Otherwise, here's another one. I'm not going to lose sight of democracy, that's the difference between me and the Soviet Russia. I understand capitalism, and competition is necessary. I hate to say this because it's kind of an easy argument, but look at Sweden! Shit, those people are happy, they elect their own officials and have universal healthcare, and they're doing just terrific. If you're rich, you're still going to be rich. Shoot, Steve Forbes, you can stand to pay $300/year or whatever. Let's not talk about percentages and tax bracket payments and all that because it'll complicate things. And after you pay that $300/year you're not going to be poor, you're still going to be one of the wealthiest people in the world. I'm not going to swoop down and surreptitiously steal all your money. Stop being an extremist. I can be extreme. How about I start calling you and Pat Buchanan and all the other Republicans "Conservative Fundamentalists?" Sounds pretty harsh, right? Well... fuck you.
You're not a very good speller, government.
I hear that all the time.
I guess I kind of understand the value of taxes now. They have the potential to do great things for people. My wrist surgery cost me thousands of dollars (and my parents--they definitely paid a lot of that--thank you). These were dollars I could have used to pay off my credit cards, or go out to dinner more, and generally stimulate the economy. That massive medical bill not only effected me, but my family, and all the businesses that would have benefited from my hated of cooking and borderline alcoholism.
So, the $540... are we good?
NO! Fuck no! Are you kidding me? Look, government, all that stuff you said about Universal Healthcare, and the general good of taxing for certain things, that made plenty of sense to me. But here's the thing, I'm not reaping any benefits from it. It's like I said before, the state of New York charged me an absurd amount of money and helped me how? Honestly, how has my quality of life improved in New York because of these taxes. I still live in a pretty shitty apartment for how much I pay, and my streets are covered in dog shit all the time. I'm willing to pay my share, I ride the subway, I put trash out, but $540? Our school system is fucking awful, one of the worst in the world. I sound like a snob saying that, but it's bad. I should be able to speak French now. I should be able to multiply three-digit numbers together in my head. I should understand basic Physics principles. But I don't. That's not to mention the federal taxes I paid, thanks for the $38 back, btw.
Look, let me break this down for you, old school. Government, let's just call you "Obama," because it's short than G-o-v-e-r-n... you get the idea. You took the keys to this car crash of a country and got a raw deal, I get that. You want to be a uniter, not a divider, sure. Everybody should love everybody, let's make an orgy of ideas where everyone gets their swerve on, whatever. But now you're holding up your stimulus package because you want Republi... I mean, Conservative Fundamentalist support?
I read, I know that the mortgage crisis was actually more the liberals fault than anyones, but you know what wasn't--Iraq. You know what wasn't--Afghanistan. You know what wasn't--The destruction of social security, welfare, and several other programs that the government said were valuable and were tossed away like trash. You're the boss now, baby, and don't let my casual words dilute the powerful meaning behind them. You know who fucked up the country, the people you're trying to gain support from. So get under the hood, roll up those elephant sleeves and tinker around for a while, start the engine, and let's take this sonuvabitch for a drive. What they did wasn't working, but you control the House, the Senate, and the White House. The White House, to be honest, isn't necessarily the most powerful entity of those three, in fact, it's probably the least powerful because the White House doesn't vote for shit. The White House doesn't pass bills, or stimulus packages.
I'm getting off track. Scroll up, look at universal healthcare; let's just say it, look at all those things the Republics call socialism. It's your game now, you're the implement of change. The reason I'm pissed off about the $540 isn't because I don't know where it's going, it's that I know where it is going. I know it's going to a lot of bickering, a lot of things that are the product of two parties who are unable to understand each other. So that's why you want to be a uniter, not a divider. But here's a little piece of cynical, but honest advice: that's. never. going. to. fucking. happen. You know who could pull out of the recession? Santa Claus.
The best you can do, use the chance you got. Make changes that you know are good. And make those changes so good and so right and so beneficial to the general population that when you're out of office no one would dare reverse them. Make 'em think taking away the things you created are tyranny, that's how you're going to enact change, and that's how you're going to bring people together. Use those four or eight years to muscle your liberal agenda through the country, because God knows that's what the Republicans did for eight years. For god sake, don't just nance around and get everyone to hold hands, fucking fight. And when you do, I'll gladly pay my $540.
Friday, January 30, 2009
25 Things You Didn't Know About Me
In the spirit of Facebook's latest meme, here now are 25 things you probably didn't know about me:
25) I am allergic to horses, but still I find them to be noble and majestic creatures. Much like Manatees.
24) I played bass in Dire Straights from the years 1984-1986.
23) For years I wore my hair in a high-top fade style, until I saw House Party II and felt like I wasn't properly representing it.
22) In middle school I wrote a sequel to Everyone Poops called, Everyone Occasionally has Diarrhea.
21) My middle name is Elizabeth.
20) As a child, I had an imaginary friend that resembled the Sinclair Dinosaur, but he resented being compared to a gas station mascot, so we rarely discussed it.
19) I can see fourteen minutes into the future if I spin around really fast... counter-clockwise. I know, weird, right?
18) Sometimes at night I wake up screaming, but I always scream: "Here I am, Rock you like a Hurricane!"
17) When hippopotamus are upset, their sweat turns red. This ones not about me, but I thought it was interesting.
16) If I could have one super-power, it would be the ability to take away people's super-powers. If I can't have them, no one will.
15) I have yet to see any evidence that kangaroos exist.
14) In grade school my nickname was "Chompers." This wasn't because of my buckteeth but because I was so good at sports some people called me "Champers," and it was misheard by a few kids who started calling me Chompers... yeah...
13) If I could be anyone, alive or dead or fictional, I would be Richard Simmons; 'cause that guy gets all the chicks.
12) Sometimes I spell "business," "Bisness;" and sometimes I spell "steel," "steal;" but I never spell chrysanthemum wrong.
11) Had I been born a bird, I would teach myself to fly backwards. Then, when people say, "Hey! Look at the bird flying backwards!" I could respond, "Looks like I'm a bird of a different feather!" And we'd all have a good laugh.
10) In college I wrote, my daily assignments in, awkward haiku form.
9) I fain ignorance when asked where the bathroom is, but only when asked in English.
8) Politics confuses me, so years ago I learned everything I could about the Iran-Contra scandal so I had something to talk about at parties... I need to find something more topical.
7) I was the third man on the grassy knoll.
6) With a mustache, I look exactly like Don Cheadle.
5) For a summer I had a job custom painting custom vans. Needless to say, I'm now really good at airbrush-painting breasts and dragons.
4) I have a tattoo on the back of my right knee, and a tattoo on my left shoulder. When they are put side-by-side they reveal the secret location of The Lost City of Atlantis.
3) I never use flour when I cook, but I almost always use flour when I play cribbage.
2) Mini-golf courses around the country have banned me for excessive jubilation and moderate body odor.
1) I am a robot sent from the future. Does anyone know where I can find a boy named "John Connor?"
25) I am allergic to horses, but still I find them to be noble and majestic creatures. Much like Manatees.
24) I played bass in Dire Straights from the years 1984-1986.
23) For years I wore my hair in a high-top fade style, until I saw House Party II and felt like I wasn't properly representing it.
22) In middle school I wrote a sequel to Everyone Poops called, Everyone Occasionally has Diarrhea.
21) My middle name is Elizabeth.
20) As a child, I had an imaginary friend that resembled the Sinclair Dinosaur, but he resented being compared to a gas station mascot, so we rarely discussed it.
19) I can see fourteen minutes into the future if I spin around really fast... counter-clockwise. I know, weird, right?
18) Sometimes at night I wake up screaming, but I always scream: "Here I am, Rock you like a Hurricane!"
17) When hippopotamus are upset, their sweat turns red. This ones not about me, but I thought it was interesting.
16) If I could have one super-power, it would be the ability to take away people's super-powers. If I can't have them, no one will.
15) I have yet to see any evidence that kangaroos exist.
14) In grade school my nickname was "Chompers." This wasn't because of my buckteeth but because I was so good at sports some people called me "Champers," and it was misheard by a few kids who started calling me Chompers... yeah...
13) If I could be anyone, alive or dead or fictional, I would be Richard Simmons; 'cause that guy gets all the chicks.
12) Sometimes I spell "business," "Bisness;" and sometimes I spell "steel," "steal;" but I never spell chrysanthemum wrong.
11) Had I been born a bird, I would teach myself to fly backwards. Then, when people say, "Hey! Look at the bird flying backwards!" I could respond, "Looks like I'm a bird of a different feather!" And we'd all have a good laugh.
10) In college I wrote, my daily assignments in, awkward haiku form.
9) I fain ignorance when asked where the bathroom is, but only when asked in English.
8) Politics confuses me, so years ago I learned everything I could about the Iran-Contra scandal so I had something to talk about at parties... I need to find something more topical.
7) I was the third man on the grassy knoll.
6) With a mustache, I look exactly like Don Cheadle.
5) For a summer I had a job custom painting custom vans. Needless to say, I'm now really good at airbrush-painting breasts and dragons.
4) I have a tattoo on the back of my right knee, and a tattoo on my left shoulder. When they are put side-by-side they reveal the secret location of The Lost City of Atlantis.
3) I never use flour when I cook, but I almost always use flour when I play cribbage.
2) Mini-golf courses around the country have banned me for excessive jubilation and moderate body odor.
1) I am a robot sent from the future. Does anyone know where I can find a boy named "John Connor?"
An Ode to My Former Geekiness
I recently wrote in a newsletter that my New Year's resolution for 2009 is to embrace my inner-geekiness. I've started this process by reading a memoir about a kid growing up in England who's obsessed with Dungeons & Dragons. I've tried recently to read Lord of the Rings, and while I would love to finish it, I'm finding it hard to get through. I think I've just grown too fond of books that are grounded in reality. I'm not saying that's a bad thing, it's just a hindrance in the pursuit to accept the fact that I probably would have played Magic in middle school, if given the opportunity.
I need to buy a new computer, which opens up a whole other dynamic of my as-yet-fully-unleashed nerd-dom. See, when I was in high school I was kind of a computer geek (points already for early adoption!). This was mainly because my dad was really into computers, and at the time it was really chic for guys who didn't play sports to know about computers... so maybe I don't win points. Anyway, I remember a time when everyone knew the speed of their computer processor. I recall a conversation with someone in the hall once where I said the phrase: "300 MB processor? That's just excessive." Now I couldn't even tell you how fast my computer is. All I can tell you about my computer now is that it's shitty, and I need a new one. Thus, I need to buy a computer. I have a vague understanding of what's good to have when buying a computer, but that's counter-acted by the fact that I'm looking at Macs because they're pretty, and play music well... high school Marc would not get along with 25-year-old Marc.
Getting back to my original point, this resolution was spawned on New Year's Eve while watching the first half of the second Lord of the Rings movie. I legitimately enjoyed it like I had never previously allowed myself to. I don't think I'm ever going to remember what those tree people are called, but I might go back and watch the movies again... in HD... then with director's commentary. Or not, who knows?
But this all isn't just to say that I didn't embrace some modicum of geek aptitude. I loved Star Trek in high school, and still do. I used to watch two hours of it every day after school--they played The Next Generation in a two hour block every afternoon at 4:00. I liked Star Trek so much that I collected the trading cards, even though I didn't know how to play the card game that they accompanied. I just treated them like other kids treated baseball cards. I knew all the characters, all the items, and remembered the episodes the cards were from. I got a thrill from going through those card value magazines and watching my "Future Worf" card go up 12 cents. But like I said, I never played the game. I guess that was the line I drew. Distant appreciation without participation.
The truth is, I wonder sometimes if that was my destiny. That sounds overly dramatic. Let's put it this way, I wonder sometimes if that was an identity I would have confided in, where my world could have been passionately revolved around fantastical characters and settings. Later I would have gotten into comic books, and started playing those really exhaustive board games that have story lines, and background information about the characters, and take ten hours to finish. Maybe I would have watched less TV and in turn had an attention span that lasts more than 10 minutes now. Michael Chabon loved comic books, so have a lot of successful authors who credit them with teaching them how to tell a compelling story.
I'm getting off track. Do I have regrets though? No, not at all. I think there are lots of roads we can all go down, whether it be running cross country, or nerding it up in someone's basement, or doing a bunch of drugs and becoming a junkie at the age of 15. For all of the missed opportunities and hours wasted watching Star Trek without fully adopting the culture, I know I gained other opportunities and spent the remainder of my time doing things of a broader scope outside of the realm of Sci-Fi fantasy. Did you know I used to fence? It's true. That's just one of the many odd and varied hobbies I've adopted in the past. And I never would have ever done that had I developed a singularly-focused affinity for this one type of past time.
An argument can be made that the level of satisfaction is equal if not greater when you're keyed into one specific thing like fantasy gaming; or baking; or learning awesome ninja skills, but that just wasn't for me. I could list several factors that I think kept me from choosing one particular thing, but the truth is, it was my decision to keep a high-level view of all those types of things--that just fit my personality.
It fit my personality like the Mithril shirt recovered from the dragon Smaug and given to Bilbo Baggins by Thorin Oakenshield. Bam!
I need to buy a new computer, which opens up a whole other dynamic of my as-yet-fully-unleashed nerd-dom. See, when I was in high school I was kind of a computer geek (points already for early adoption!). This was mainly because my dad was really into computers, and at the time it was really chic for guys who didn't play sports to know about computers... so maybe I don't win points. Anyway, I remember a time when everyone knew the speed of their computer processor. I recall a conversation with someone in the hall once where I said the phrase: "300 MB processor? That's just excessive." Now I couldn't even tell you how fast my computer is. All I can tell you about my computer now is that it's shitty, and I need a new one. Thus, I need to buy a computer. I have a vague understanding of what's good to have when buying a computer, but that's counter-acted by the fact that I'm looking at Macs because they're pretty, and play music well... high school Marc would not get along with 25-year-old Marc.
Getting back to my original point, this resolution was spawned on New Year's Eve while watching the first half of the second Lord of the Rings movie. I legitimately enjoyed it like I had never previously allowed myself to. I don't think I'm ever going to remember what those tree people are called, but I might go back and watch the movies again... in HD... then with director's commentary. Or not, who knows?
But this all isn't just to say that I didn't embrace some modicum of geek aptitude. I loved Star Trek in high school, and still do. I used to watch two hours of it every day after school--they played The Next Generation in a two hour block every afternoon at 4:00. I liked Star Trek so much that I collected the trading cards, even though I didn't know how to play the card game that they accompanied. I just treated them like other kids treated baseball cards. I knew all the characters, all the items, and remembered the episodes the cards were from. I got a thrill from going through those card value magazines and watching my "Future Worf" card go up 12 cents. But like I said, I never played the game. I guess that was the line I drew. Distant appreciation without participation.
The truth is, I wonder sometimes if that was my destiny. That sounds overly dramatic. Let's put it this way, I wonder sometimes if that was an identity I would have confided in, where my world could have been passionately revolved around fantastical characters and settings. Later I would have gotten into comic books, and started playing those really exhaustive board games that have story lines, and background information about the characters, and take ten hours to finish. Maybe I would have watched less TV and in turn had an attention span that lasts more than 10 minutes now. Michael Chabon loved comic books, so have a lot of successful authors who credit them with teaching them how to tell a compelling story.
I'm getting off track. Do I have regrets though? No, not at all. I think there are lots of roads we can all go down, whether it be running cross country, or nerding it up in someone's basement, or doing a bunch of drugs and becoming a junkie at the age of 15. For all of the missed opportunities and hours wasted watching Star Trek without fully adopting the culture, I know I gained other opportunities and spent the remainder of my time doing things of a broader scope outside of the realm of Sci-Fi fantasy. Did you know I used to fence? It's true. That's just one of the many odd and varied hobbies I've adopted in the past. And I never would have ever done that had I developed a singularly-focused affinity for this one type of past time.
An argument can be made that the level of satisfaction is equal if not greater when you're keyed into one specific thing like fantasy gaming; or baking; or learning awesome ninja skills, but that just wasn't for me. I could list several factors that I think kept me from choosing one particular thing, but the truth is, it was my decision to keep a high-level view of all those types of things--that just fit my personality.
It fit my personality like the Mithril shirt recovered from the dragon Smaug and given to Bilbo Baggins by Thorin Oakenshield. Bam!
Sunday, January 25, 2009
An Open Letter To My Old Web Address
So I let "marcinthecity.com" expire. It was a clear symbol of my neglect for the blog and I took it as such. I actually tried to renew it (it's only $10/year), but godaddy.com was acting all weird and wasn't working, so I said "F this, I'm going solo!" I actually said that, in my bedroom, all by myself... and with exactly the kind of zealous bravado you would expect from someone who says "F this, I'm going solo!" alone in their bedroom.
I just finished watching every episode of The L Word, seasons 3 up to the present (season 6, episode 1). It was a dramatic roller-coaster of a weekend. It occurred to me that maybe I like TV so much because my life is so boring, so in relation, instead of living my own boring life I can vicariously live through the most dramatic and exciting parts of 7 other people's lives! I guess that's exactly the kind of escapism TV hits at, and I'm not ashamed to say that I fall for it every time.
I only left my apartment this weekend to go shopping and rent DVDs. The good people at Videology know my as "that sad guy who is obsessed with The L Word." Maybe they think I'm renting it and watching it in bed all weekend with a significant other, or something--and give me the benefit of the doubt for being a romantic, and not a shut-in. Sadly, I am the latter, not the former.
And I think I have an ear infection. Who, over the age of six, gets an ear infection? Apparently Marc in the City.
I went grocery shopping for the third time this weekend at an upscale natural food store and it made me feel like an adult. I bought some of those soups that come in boxes, and soy milk, and wasabe edamame and prunes and almonds in those little over-priced plastic containers. The guy behind the counter was wearing these hilarious D&G sunglasses that read "D&G" in big gold letters on the side. He was otherwise all greezy, and swinger-y, and I got the impression he was the sun of a wealthy oil baron in the middle east who was forced to come to America because his lavish lifestyle of excess kept embarrassing the family in Dubai. So he packed up his horrible Gucci, print shirts and flew to Brooklyn, where he found work at a little over-priced grocery store. Who knows.
I took a nap at 5: 30 and woke up around 9:00. I guess I needed a break from all my intense loafing. It's weird, you know, how you watch all that TV and get so wrapped up in the lives of these characters and then suddenly you have to exercise some restraint and wait until the next episode is released. Then the series is over (The L Word is on its last season now, just started). It's times like these when I think I should have gone into television writing. I read all the time, but I wasn't a bookworm growing up. TV was my sibling for god sake. Whatever, we'll see where life takes me. You know, I just don't want to be one of those people with the "good job" who never really does anything significant.
And, of course, that's all relative, you know? Like, I've already done lots of things that a few people think are significant (that I won't list here because that would be super lame), but there isn't an over-arching sort of track for accomplishment, you know? Even Ivy-league school attenders and doctors and whatever, they're just members of a big elite club, but it's still a club with thousands of faceless members.
I was looking at plane ticket prices on Expedia today, thinking about taking some kind of vacation (I haven't taken a real, vacation for vacation-sake since I was a Sophomore in high school). Incidentally, my family NEVER went on vacations when I was a kid, which is fine, I just find that people think that's weird so I thought I'd mention it. Anyway, I kept finding these package vacation deals that were, like, $500 for flight and 4 nights in a hotel at some local, and I thought "Hey, that's a really great idea." But then I thought, "no, wait a second, I don't want my vacation to be packaged up and marketed so easily to me." It has a certain drone quality, like some marketing team is like, "We will create this fun place, X number of people will go. If we get Z number of consumers to attend we make Y profit." It seems devoid of any kind of personal fulfillment. Like those Club Meds (are those even still around?), or cruise ships. I hate the idea of cruise ships, by the way. I can see how they're fun, but something about being on a boat in the middle of no where with all the amenities of a crazy vacation to enjoy doesn't seem fun to me. I'd rather find what I want on land, go somewhere interesting, and not deal with a bunch of tourists that make me feel like I'm on the "Fun version of New York" floating in the middle of the ocean, floating on the ship among an ocean of the faceless brood I see every. single. fucking. day. in. the. city. Only this time they're wearing lays.
Maybe I'll go to LA. LA, for all my bitching about thinking it's phony, and dry, and kind of ugly, it's always held this sort of mystical, promised land quality for me. Maybe because that's where all the entertainment I obsess over is created. Maybe because it's the west coast, so I know everything will be brand new and comfortable. Maybe I just like the freedom to by a jug of Early Times in the grocery store (and get a Ralph's discount on it, no less). Maybe I miss warm weather, and seeing colors other than grey (even though LA is just orange, if I remember correctly).
I've been trying to write lately but shit got real about a week ago and I haven't felt like it. I've got about 100 pages of a first draft finished, but whenever I read it I feel like I need to fix it before I move on. I'd be too embarrassed to let anyone read it in the state it's in now. First drafts are meant to be bad, but every time I read one of my first drafts I'm convinced anyone reading it would think I'm a hack. Not even a hack, but someone who doesn't deserve a degree in writing. And for all the appendices you make for the bad-ness of a first draft, they can't make up for the actual quality of the writing. I learned a long time ago no one gives a shit about what you say, it's what you do that means anything to anyone. Maybe that's why I keep moving. Because there's no surer sign of moving forward than moving hundreds of miles away.
But hey, how about I just step back, take that vacation I was talking about, and re-assess. These Cheez-its are getting to my head and I'm in serial drama withdrawals. We'll talk more later.
-Marc
I just finished watching every episode of The L Word, seasons 3 up to the present (season 6, episode 1). It was a dramatic roller-coaster of a weekend. It occurred to me that maybe I like TV so much because my life is so boring, so in relation, instead of living my own boring life I can vicariously live through the most dramatic and exciting parts of 7 other people's lives! I guess that's exactly the kind of escapism TV hits at, and I'm not ashamed to say that I fall for it every time.
I only left my apartment this weekend to go shopping and rent DVDs. The good people at Videology know my as "that sad guy who is obsessed with The L Word." Maybe they think I'm renting it and watching it in bed all weekend with a significant other, or something--and give me the benefit of the doubt for being a romantic, and not a shut-in. Sadly, I am the latter, not the former.
And I think I have an ear infection. Who, over the age of six, gets an ear infection? Apparently Marc in the City.
I went grocery shopping for the third time this weekend at an upscale natural food store and it made me feel like an adult. I bought some of those soups that come in boxes, and soy milk, and wasabe edamame and prunes and almonds in those little over-priced plastic containers. The guy behind the counter was wearing these hilarious D&G sunglasses that read "D&G" in big gold letters on the side. He was otherwise all greezy, and swinger-y, and I got the impression he was the sun of a wealthy oil baron in the middle east who was forced to come to America because his lavish lifestyle of excess kept embarrassing the family in Dubai. So he packed up his horrible Gucci, print shirts and flew to Brooklyn, where he found work at a little over-priced grocery store. Who knows.
I took a nap at 5: 30 and woke up around 9:00. I guess I needed a break from all my intense loafing. It's weird, you know, how you watch all that TV and get so wrapped up in the lives of these characters and then suddenly you have to exercise some restraint and wait until the next episode is released. Then the series is over (The L Word is on its last season now, just started). It's times like these when I think I should have gone into television writing. I read all the time, but I wasn't a bookworm growing up. TV was my sibling for god sake. Whatever, we'll see where life takes me. You know, I just don't want to be one of those people with the "good job" who never really does anything significant.
And, of course, that's all relative, you know? Like, I've already done lots of things that a few people think are significant (that I won't list here because that would be super lame), but there isn't an over-arching sort of track for accomplishment, you know? Even Ivy-league school attenders and doctors and whatever, they're just members of a big elite club, but it's still a club with thousands of faceless members.
I was looking at plane ticket prices on Expedia today, thinking about taking some kind of vacation (I haven't taken a real, vacation for vacation-sake since I was a Sophomore in high school). Incidentally, my family NEVER went on vacations when I was a kid, which is fine, I just find that people think that's weird so I thought I'd mention it. Anyway, I kept finding these package vacation deals that were, like, $500 for flight and 4 nights in a hotel at some local, and I thought "Hey, that's a really great idea." But then I thought, "no, wait a second, I don't want my vacation to be packaged up and marketed so easily to me." It has a certain drone quality, like some marketing team is like, "We will create this fun place, X number of people will go. If we get Z number of consumers to attend we make Y profit." It seems devoid of any kind of personal fulfillment. Like those Club Meds (are those even still around?), or cruise ships. I hate the idea of cruise ships, by the way. I can see how they're fun, but something about being on a boat in the middle of no where with all the amenities of a crazy vacation to enjoy doesn't seem fun to me. I'd rather find what I want on land, go somewhere interesting, and not deal with a bunch of tourists that make me feel like I'm on the "Fun version of New York" floating in the middle of the ocean, floating on the ship among an ocean of the faceless brood I see every. single. fucking. day. in. the. city. Only this time they're wearing lays.
Maybe I'll go to LA. LA, for all my bitching about thinking it's phony, and dry, and kind of ugly, it's always held this sort of mystical, promised land quality for me. Maybe because that's where all the entertainment I obsess over is created. Maybe because it's the west coast, so I know everything will be brand new and comfortable. Maybe I just like the freedom to by a jug of Early Times in the grocery store (and get a Ralph's discount on it, no less). Maybe I miss warm weather, and seeing colors other than grey (even though LA is just orange, if I remember correctly).
I've been trying to write lately but shit got real about a week ago and I haven't felt like it. I've got about 100 pages of a first draft finished, but whenever I read it I feel like I need to fix it before I move on. I'd be too embarrassed to let anyone read it in the state it's in now. First drafts are meant to be bad, but every time I read one of my first drafts I'm convinced anyone reading it would think I'm a hack. Not even a hack, but someone who doesn't deserve a degree in writing. And for all the appendices you make for the bad-ness of a first draft, they can't make up for the actual quality of the writing. I learned a long time ago no one gives a shit about what you say, it's what you do that means anything to anyone. Maybe that's why I keep moving. Because there's no surer sign of moving forward than moving hundreds of miles away.
But hey, how about I just step back, take that vacation I was talking about, and re-assess. These Cheez-its are getting to my head and I'm in serial drama withdrawals. We'll talk more later.
-Marc
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
No, Songsmith... No.
I haven't read Gawker in a while, so I decided to check up before going to bed tonight and found this truly wretched commercial made by Microsoft. It's to promote a new software program called "Songsmith" and the ad is so terrible I'm actually angry now. Seriously, I'm angry that this was made and people spent money on this, I'm angry that the person who approved this entire project along the way probably gets paid ten times what I do, and I'm furious at how unbelievably out of touch a company with such bountiful resources has once again proved they can be. Honestly, what the shit is going on over there? I'm not an advertising person, but I'm not a film producer either but I know Howard the Duck was bad. I don't even want to post the link to the commercial, but if you don't see it you'll just think I'm being irrational. That said, here is the 4 minutes and change reason that I am going to bed angry tonight. Seriously, I'm in a bad place right now, Microsoft, and it's all your fault. It's a similar feeling to that of when I heard NBC's boy genius (wild sarcasm), Ben Silverman, was bringing back remakes of both Knight Rider and The Bionic Woman... NBC, Microsoft... you're on notice.
http://gawker.com/5130701/microsoft-ad-and-product-advertised-could-both-conceivably-make-you-want-to-kill-your-family
http://gawker.com/5130701/microsoft-ad-and-product-advertised-could-both-conceivably-make-you-want-to-kill-your-family
Sunday, January 4, 2009
The Karate Kid
Quick thoughts on the Karate Kid trilogy before the NyQuil kicks in, which could be any minute.
1) The girl in the third movie gets kicked in the stomach by a bunch of psychos who break into "Mr. Miyagi's Little Trees" shop and attack Michael. Though it's awful enough that she gets kicked at all, things are made worse/more non-sensical when she keeps hanging out with Daniel! Later in the movie she is almost left in a canyon to drown, almost tossed off a rock face into said canyon onto rocks, accosted by a sleezy dude in a club, and probably several other things I'm forgetting.
2) And while we're talking about the female supporting characters in the series, Elizabeth Shue fails to make an appearance past the first movie! Sure, that's fine, but the way the writers get rid of her is just so sudden and strange that it completely undermines her role in the first movie. Apparently she borrows Daniel's car, wrecks it, then tells him she's fallen in love with a football player... what? Wow, strong conviction of character. Another thing I think is fascinating about Elizabeth Shue is that she's gotten more and more beautiful as she'd gotten older. Seriously, I get that the 80s style is probably unconsciously dissuading me, but still, Shue is so much better looking 20 years later in Leaving Las Vegas and Hamlet 2.
3) Starting to get drowsy, so I'll wrap up here. The endings of the movies are so sudden. At the end of the third (the TRILOGY ending, mind you), Daniel wins the karate championship and the screen goes to black. What happened to the rich bad guy with the nuclear waste dumping business (really, that character really exists). I expected, with all his obvious law-breaking, he would have been arrested at the end. I guess if you add cops to the plot of the Karate Kid movies nothing really makes sense anymore. Shoot, seriously though, give me some Afterward!
1) The girl in the third movie gets kicked in the stomach by a bunch of psychos who break into "Mr. Miyagi's Little Trees" shop and attack Michael. Though it's awful enough that she gets kicked at all, things are made worse/more non-sensical when she keeps hanging out with Daniel! Later in the movie she is almost left in a canyon to drown, almost tossed off a rock face into said canyon onto rocks, accosted by a sleezy dude in a club, and probably several other things I'm forgetting.
2) And while we're talking about the female supporting characters in the series, Elizabeth Shue fails to make an appearance past the first movie! Sure, that's fine, but the way the writers get rid of her is just so sudden and strange that it completely undermines her role in the first movie. Apparently she borrows Daniel's car, wrecks it, then tells him she's fallen in love with a football player... what? Wow, strong conviction of character. Another thing I think is fascinating about Elizabeth Shue is that she's gotten more and more beautiful as she'd gotten older. Seriously, I get that the 80s style is probably unconsciously dissuading me, but still, Shue is so much better looking 20 years later in Leaving Las Vegas and Hamlet 2.
3) Starting to get drowsy, so I'll wrap up here. The endings of the movies are so sudden. At the end of the third (the TRILOGY ending, mind you), Daniel wins the karate championship and the screen goes to black. What happened to the rich bad guy with the nuclear waste dumping business (really, that character really exists). I expected, with all his obvious law-breaking, he would have been arrested at the end. I guess if you add cops to the plot of the Karate Kid movies nothing really makes sense anymore. Shoot, seriously though, give me some Afterward!
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