Lazy Monday Morning

And I guess a happy Monday to everyone...yep, 1:00am, it's Monday. I've been a little on the quiet side this last week, trying to throw myself headlong into the writing and see what would happen. But alas, the great experiment was a great failure. Each question brought up three more, I stressed too much over how the story would flow, and didn't get a whole lot done. I have a lot more ideas, but no direction. I plan to shift gears this week and start writing different scenes, who cares where they lie. I had originally thought about starting from the beginning and going from there, but I'll try working on the parts I'm most clear about and hopefully that will get some answers. Maybe not, but it's worth a shot.

Also, I realize how many of you must have missed me last week, so expect lots of wit and candor over the next several days to make up for it. On the agenda: Spoon, pop perfection, and angry Muslims. Should be fun.

First on the list, it was a great weekend for Missouri sports. By that, I mean the Tigers and St. Louis teams. Saturday, the Tigers beat Colorado in the Big 12 opener to go 5-0 for the first time since 1981, which is 1BG if you were curious. Luckily, I've been able to see three of their games this season and they've looked surprisingly good. Quick defense, strong running game, and I'm really liking this Chase Daniel character. Up next: Texas Tech, where my sister attends, and also home to the worst tap water I've ever tasted. You can't buy liquor in Lubbock either, as if that town wasn't appealing enough already. But I digress...

Yesterday, the Cardinals clinched the Central by, very appropriately, losing. St. Louis, despite their best efforts, won the division for the third straight year by beating out Houston by a game and a half. This is a team up 7.5 games on Cincinnati with 13 games to go and just barely sputtered into the postseason, losing 5-3 today to Milwaukee. But I'll still cheer them on fanatically. And when all is said and done, I expect the playoff beard to be matured to its full month potential.

First up, a very good San Diego team that beat us 3-of-4 a week ago. Our pitching can be solid (it hasn't been...at all), and the run support is always there, so let's just hope they get their shit together by Tuesday afternoon. Anyone care to join me at the bars for the game? My treat. Let me know, we'll talk tomorrow. Dig? Dug.

We're Experiencing Technical Difficulties

I'd like to apologize to the faithful readers of Pandering to Savages (all 5 of you). I've been slacking bad this past week. First, it was deadline time at work, so I was drained by the time I got home; and second, I've put myself on a strict diet of story writing. Before I moved, I had meant to use my time in ABQ to write a novel or screenplay (maybe both) about my Nursery Crimes idea, but so far, zero progress has been made, and I've been slacking on this for far too long. So now it's time to see what I'm made of. God help me.

But on a fun sidenote, this weekend has unofficially been dubbed "The Weekend of Broken Dreams." Reason: last Friday and Sunday nights, I was experiencing some pretty good dreams that, well, ended horribly.

Friday: I dreamt I was at a concert seeing Mr. Bungle. I had sat through all the openers and was ready to rock out with Mike Patton, but right before they went on stage, I woke up. Okay, so not horrible, but I was pissed off. I know I can somehow blame Ticketmaster for this.

Sunday: I had just met some hottie wearing a short silk dress and thigh high stockings who looked like Kasumi from Dead or Alive (hey, blame my mind on this one), and we were really hitting it off. The dream was going...smoothly, and I suddenly wake up. But that's not the worst part. When I tried to fall back asleep into the same dream, I found myself headlong in a nightmare where zombies were ravaging the neighborhood. I blame Pat and that awesome book, World War Z, for that one. I woke up freaked out and a little afraid to get up and shower, as it was still dark out. So I hit the snooze button for an hour. That'll show the living dead.

So now that you've had this embarassing look into Greg's psyche, time to start the writing. Wish me luck, fooligans.

Plumbers Are So Hot Right Now

With our friends over at Error 204 getting me all giddy with the hottt Mario action, I thought I'd show one of my favorite all-time videos and the closest thing to perfection I have ever witnessed. Ever. Even better than that perfect 10 floor routine I performed at the 1984 Olympics.

Many of you may have seen this absolute trouncing of Mario 3, and that's cool. If you haven't, you'll thank me soon enough. Well, 11 minutes from now, actually. If you've seen it, watch it again. You know you want to.



Super Mario Mania

Harry Potter's All Growns Up

Although I can't say I blame him.

Wait, can I get arrested for writing that?

Megadeth and Navajo Women

And then there was Sunday. I took it easy for most of the day, as the night before had caught up to me. But I had to shake it off, as Gigantour awaited my roommate and I that night.

I had missed it last year beacuse my mom was in town, but I was not to be denied this year (no offense, Mom). The lineup wasn't as strong as '05, when Fear Factory and Dream Theater were part of the lineup, but I was looking forward to hearing Arch Enemy and Lamb of God. Not nearly as much as Megadeth, but that goes without saying

One thing you learn about going to a hard rock/metal concert in Albuquerque is that you get some colorful individuals coming out. You have the Rez Rockers, the white trash, and everything in between. You never know what delinquency awaits you in the lawn. Case in point: in the span of 30 minutes, I was feet away from 1) an impromptu trash fire and 2) a fight that broke out from people taking moshing a tad too seriously.

Also, I think I can start my case study on the sexual attractions of overweight Navajo women. Thesis: it's me. Yes, Navajo women love Greg Klein. Example 1: The Cult/Black Crowes & Jimmy Page concert, summer 2000. I was taken over by a Navajo woman who started dancing/rubbing behind me and wouldn't let me go. Example 2: The Arbors apartments, September 2005. Doing laundry, I met my neighbor, a Navajo woman, adjacent to me. I said hello, the usual neighbor niceties. 20 minutes later, a guy knocked on my door and told me to go to the bottom of the stairs. She was down there, waiting for me. She told me I seemed nice, and that she was looking for a good fuck and if I could help her with that. I politely declined. Example 3: Gigantour, September 2006. During Lamb of God, a Navajo woman next to me started talking to me, offered me a drink of her beer (she gave me the last swallow. how sick!), and then asked if I would follow her over to the beer tent. I told her I should stay with my roommate, but thanks anyway. I think I could write a grant proposal looking more into this phenomenon. I'll keep you posted.

But on to Megadeth, other bands be damned! I had seen Megadeth once before, but never headlining (they were opening for Motley Crue when I saw them). Dave Mustaine puts on an amazing show. They opened with "Wake Up Dead" and "In My Darkest Hour," closed with "Holy Wars...," and shredded the hell out of every song in between. Lots of pyrotechnics, lots of guitar solos, lots of yelling and singing along, and lots of heavy fucking metal. I'm a little hoarse today, half from yelling, half from the awful wind, but it was all worth it.

MEGADETH!!! That's like a million deths!

Be That Guy

Welcome to the first post of my two-part symphony. This was one of the more eventful weekends in recent memory. First, we start with Saturday: the UNM - Mizzou game.

I had been looking forward to this for a long time, especially after being humiliated last year when UNM eked out a win at Columbia. A special day like this necessitated a special preparty/tailgate (i.e. drinking like a fish beforehand).

I had plans to meet up with some friends at the game, but the lot they were in was full before I got there, which is probably good because it was full of Lobo fans. So we went down the street around a bunch of Mizzou fans, and were close to the tent where the alumni were celebrating. It was a surprisingly good turnout for the Black & Gold. Truman was there, as you can see above. I met the parents of the place kicker. They were so nice, I kept from making a kicker joke. Which was hard.

Anywho, after drinking a few, we went to our seats right at kickoff. I had thought we'd be sitting next to the Mizzou fans, as we were sitting on the south side (in Faurot the visitors sit there); don't want to put the visiting fans next to the students, right? Yeah, you'd think so, but remember: we're in Albuquerque. Luckily, there were four Mizzou fans close to us, so I didn't feel so alone. We also snuck some rum in, so our PG-rated cokes kept our buzz going.

I was in my element. Yelling at every play, cheering VERY loud for first downs, sacks, key tackles...and there were quite a few of all three. As the game drew on, so did my volume (that doesn't make any sense). Yes, I was the loud, annoying fan you all hate to have at a game. And it was so much fun.

The Tigers looked awesome, by the way. There were a few drives in the first half they punted away when they should have tried the field goal, but they swarmed on defense, had some great runs, and a few deep plays.

Overall score: 27-17. M-I-Z...(let's hear it!). Fans started leaving early, so I yelled at them about how it must suck to suck (I know, I'm a dick). Then on the way out, I sang the Mizzou fight song all the way to the car. Fast forward to the bar afterwards: I bought a round of Black & Gold drinks for the table of UNM fans. They were good sports about it. So yeah, there's the night. I want you to know I represented our school very graciously. On to part deuce.

The Motliest of Crews

I know I left a quick post about going 0-15 in softball, but I think some clarification is needed for a better understanding of the tragic comedy known as Pain Inc.

The owner of the magazines I work for also owns three local smoke shops/tattoo & piercing parlors, all called The Zone. We didn't have enough people to foster a team around the office, so we turned to those employees for help, as we see them walking around the office from time to time. I also asked some of our local writers to play. And if they had any friends, we told them to bring them along. We easily had over 20 people at one time or another throughout the season (not counting help from players on other teams on short weeks), but we had some mainstays. Here's a lineup:

Greg Klein - Hey, that's me! In the worst shape of my life and with a single-digit number of softball games I had played before, I went out there and played every game, no matter how bad. And it got bad. I led the team in errors (I had three in a single inning once), but I did get better. Once they put me at catcher, the errors dropped.
Bill Wetsel - Art Director for HQ. Led the team in strikeouts (only 3). Very cool guy, but like me, not much of a softball player. He did see Faith No More, Guns N Roses, and Metallica on the same stage, though. And for that, I hate him.
Eric Cdebaca - Broker at Smith Barney, long-time friend from high school, and fellow founding father of Pike Club/Urban Assault Squad. Also one of my co-travelers on the fabled Fiji, New Zealand, and Australia trip. Actually a pretty decent softball player, took some good hits at shortstop.
Rick Torres - Former tattoo artist at The Zone, now works for Full Spectrum doing tattoos. Very good artist, and very cool guy. Check out his MySpace page. He played second base before messing up his ankle.
Mykey Garcia - Bassist for The Ground Beneath. I saw them before they went on tour and we lost him and another player for three weeks. They rocked. Hard. Very good outfielder, too. I saw him make (and miss) some diving catches. Also a piercer for one of the Zone locations.
Roman Barham - Drummer for The Ground Beneath. Again, lost for three weeks on tour, but I can't fault them at all. Played outfield.
Daniel Gonzales - Bassist for Blinddryve, a sort-of All Star Band that won a contest at a local rock station (long story). I saw them play, and I was impressed for how new they were. He pitched whenever he showed up. He's also a manager at one of the Zones and a hell of a nice guy.
Harold Davis - HQ's political writer. Owns a limousine business. Also running for Bernalillo County Assessor (and will probably win). Played catcher until a hip injury sidelined him for the season. The jersey has been signed and retired.

Obviously, there were others, but either I don't feel like mentioning them, didn't know them well enough for a fun backstory, or a combination of the two. We all pretty much met each other and figured out who would play what minutes before the first game, which is a bit of a disadvantage when you play teams that have been together for years. But we did have a great time drinking before and after the games, and that's all that really matters. I'm playing a Fall League starting October. I'll keep you posted.

You finally made a monkey out of me!

And why not keep a fun monkey-themed night? Everyone loves monkeys, and here's yet another reason why.



I think we'll agree, though, that the true gem of this is the anchor commentary. I smell an Eddie Murrow Award!

"Have you ever heard of the Planet of the Apes?"

"The movie or the planet?"

So I was on What We All Want today, reading the usual bit of insight from Austintacious, when I came across a post about High Fidelity being remade into a Broadway musical. This even came with a link to the play's website that contained a music video and four songs from the show, including a celebratory song about Rob and Laura having a 9% chance of getting back together. Ick. But it made me think about this classic Simpsons bit of the Planet of the Apes musical, so I guess some good did come from it.

I heart (<3) High Fidelity, but I hate (H8) the idea of this Broadway adaptation. And to think: for the price of a ticket, you could probably buy a copy of the DVD, book, and soundtrack. And then have money left over for ice cream. And who doesn't love ice cream? Broadway fans, that's who. Bastards. So raise your glass to this abomination's horrible failure.

High Fidelity...the Broadway Musical?!!?

"I don't see what the big deal is, everyone steals from everybody."

You guys come up with some pretty clever, fun stuff on your blogs. Bravo. There have been many times I've thought, "I should post that, too, and share their wit and candor with the world. THE WORLD!" But then I realize my readership is much smaller than the world's, and the people who read my posts probably read that person's, too.

What can I say, I need to get out to those singles blogs and meet some new people. It's just so hard, and the next morning there's nothing to show for it except the smell of cheap perfume on your sheets and the shirt she stole from you she said she'd give back cuz she didn't want to wear her halter top from last night but she's only going to drive straight home and now she's wanting to take your last bagel even though you were looking forward to toasting it up before work and oh my god I'm late for work...

Where was I? Ah yes, sharing other people's cleverocity. The brains over at Crowdpleaser recently introduced us to a customizable version of the famous picture of Einstein at his blackboard, and what can I say, I was taken by its endless possiblities of humor. You can also find some other fun pictures to edit at the site, like the one above. You should check it out if you haven't already. But you probably have. And that's cool, too. Keep up the good work, everyone.

Genius Blackboard

"Let there be wine." "And women." "And song." "And women."

And then I climbed a few rungs on the social ladder Sunday and went to the Bernalillo Wine Festival. It was overcast, but it didn't rain, which made for a cool afternoon.

Lines=long. LOOOONG. Much longer than last year's festival. We stood in line nearly an hour just to get in (Quote of the day: "What is this, a line festival?" -Eric). And then, once we got in, the lines in front of every booth were silly long. It took 20 minutes just to get out first glass, thanks to some uppity couple who tried EVERY wine on the menu and then bought three bottles.

But we tasted some great local wines, like D.W. Lescombe's Syrah, Milagro had an awesome Rio Cuvee, and I think it was Luna Rossa with a good semi-sweet red. What can I say, I'm a red wine guy. We also got something from the Corrales Winery, but I was too entranced by the pourer's eyes to really care about what I was drinking.

We only had time to visit about 8 of the wineries. My wine browsing time was cut short because I had to stand in line for twenty minutes to get turkey legs for Eric and myself, courtesy of Powdrell's BBQ. The wait was well worth it, as waits for turkey legs usually are. Huge, greasy, meaty, and mucho delicioso.

Instead of taking the light rail back (we had taken it there), we had Eric's girlfriend's mom pick us up. Our seats on the Rail Runner were not guaranteed, and they were only making one trip back into town. Plus, we beat all the traffic at the train station.

We then went back to Eric's apartment and got even more tipsy, finishing off his bottle of tequila before going to his parents' house and raiding their liquor cabinet. I felt like a sophomore in high school all over again.

Other notable quotes of the day:
"I hope they get sodomized by a piece of rusty wood. (pause) Yeah, that sounds right." -Me, about the two in front of us at the D.W. Lescombe's wine tent
"I'm very proud of my bush." -Christina, showing me a picture of her rose bush on her phone
"I hate clowns. I'd curb a clown." -Eric, as we passed two face-painting clowns in line

"Gripping the wheel, his knuckles went white with desire..."

"...the wheels of his Mustang exploding on the highway like a slug from a .45. True death: 400 horsepower of maximum performance piercing the night...this is black sunshine."

Okay, so Saturday I went off to Sandia Motor Speedway with my uncle to watch some races. Like Katy, I was waiting for some fun flaming wreckage, so long as it didn't happen to the two people I knew who were racing.

I had never been to one of these races before, or any race for that matter. It was a lot of fun. We drank on the way down, drank before in the parking lot, drank during the race, drank in the pits after the races, and drank on the way home. As for the races, we sat right at the front of the fence and really took in the entire sensory experience of it: the burning rubber, the rocks and tire bits spraying the crowd, the sounds of the cars passing. I can understand the whole allure of NASCAR a little more now.

There were five different types of races: the factory fours (nearly stock four-cylinder; lots of Hondas and Nissans), the hobby stock (which are more the Impalas and such), the legends (which looked like a race full of Ed Roth hotrods), and the midgets (souped-up gokarts). The night finished with the powderpuffs, where the wives/girlfriends of the factory fours raced.

There were some awesome mullets, lots of obesity, and I had a talk about the recent cool weather with a guy who spoke some odd combination of pidgen, english, and hillbilly. Lots of nodding and smiling in that conversation.

But in all, I really enjoyed the night. In fact, if I wasn't planning on leaving the ABQ in May, I would go in on a car with my uncle and race next summer. But alas, my need for speed will have to wait to be unleashed another day.

Whoops. Better late than never.

So our Tigers play UNM on the 17th. Anyone care to make the 16+ hour drive for a football game and a weekend in the desert? Sure, there'll be no Brad Smith, but I'll make sure you get an extra-large helping of Greg Klein, if you know what I mean (do or don't take it the wrong way, whichever is more fun for you).

Let me know. Sorry, I had meant to bring this up earlier as I had these delusions of a large ABQ hootenanny, but I think that deadline has passed. But right now, I'm off to the races. Literally. We'll talk later.

I Rock Heads Like Mount Rushmore

Turn on the radio to your local hip-hop station, what do you hear? Chingy? Lil Jon? Ne Yo? Any of the other talentless hacks saturating the airwaves with their unoriginal beats and ryhmes about how rich they are/how many bitches they have? Yeah, same here, too. We also get a LOT of the Latino hip-hop for the myriad Blaxicans in the 505.

But if you're reading this, chances are you probably don't listen to those kind of stations (what can I say, I know my audience). But if you're looking for some lyrical, clever hip-hop, you need to listen to Binary Star. This now disbanded Michigan duo have more creativity in one simile than the entire playlist of 97.3 FM has in, well, something much bigger.

What follows isn't really a Top 5, because that would be too damn hard, but consider this a short list of notable Binary Star lines. If you like what you hear, let me know; I always love to share the Binary Star.

1. "You lack discipline, you're going nowhere like flat Michelins." - Fellowship
2. "I'm second to none while you get none like a convent." - Thinkin' Cap
3. "I even freestyle in French when I'm rhyming abroad." - KGB
4. "I see through your competition; you might be fly, but I'm a hawk, you's a pigeon." - Water World
5. "The winning team, I coach rhymes like Lenny Wilkens. Keep the world guessing my style like Rumplestiltskin." - Dat Fast Food Joint

Word.

...And The Crowd Goes Wild!

Brevity's the name of the game tonight. So here goes:

The Cardinals swept the Cubs this weekend. Our pitching actually looked good, and Gary (thanks Austin) Bennett came in LARGE with two game-winning at-bats, including a bottom of the ninth grand slam with the game tied at 6 on Sunday. I was jumping and screaming like a little schoolgirl. At least this time I had an excuse. Things are looking better than on Friday when we were tied with the Reds for the division lead. Fingers crossed!

24 won five Emmys, including Best Drama and Best Actor. No, I didn't watch the ceremonies, although I heart Conan, but I did read the highlights on Yahoo News. But back to 24. Many know that Monday nights hold a sacred place in my heart. I am not to be disturbed during my hourly date with Jack Bauer. I've been with this show since the beginning and I've loved every bit of it. Yes, even the mountain lion (man, I WISH I could find a pic of this...oh well). I can't wait until January!

That's all you get!

Animated Violence Is Fun!

I recently came into possession of 35 of the Itchy & Scratchy shorts, and it's been amazing. Mini vignettes chock full of blood and gore. I was watching them all in a row, when I saw one I hadn't seen before. After watching it, my roommate and I couldn't stop laughing for minutes afterwards, awestruck by the sadistic depths it reaches. Ch-check it out.



He creates a killing machine! Genius. Watching something like this made me think about what if something like this actually played during after-school variety shows. Sure, you can use the argument that Looney Tunes are pretty violent, which is true. But the blood, gore, and dismembering present in every Itchy & Scratchy would be sure to warp the mind of some weak and/or worthless kids. We live in a culture where we laugh at physical pain but shun our children's eyes when the first hint of a nipple rears its ugly head, and I think the writers were trying to convey that with Itchy & Scratchy. Their ability to take such a funny but horribly true snapshot of our society is what makes The Simpsons such a great show. Well, one of the MANY reasons.

Laugh, and the World Laughs with You

Go 0-15 for the season in softball, and the world laughs at you.

Chili Can Kill You

I almost died Saturday.

Okay, so that's not so true, but did I get your attention? Awesome. Keep reading.

It's been raining in New Mexico lately. A lot. What was once a statewide drought has now turned into a flash flood warning everywhere. The town of Hatch has been flooded over, several streets around the Albuquerque area are a danger to drive when it pours down, but it does wonders for the scenery while driving around the state. What was once a desolate wasteland of a drive to Santa Fe has become actually kinda enjoyable.

Well, me and five others drove out to Jemez Springs this weekend to do some camping. Instead of staying down around the hot springs, we went to the top of the cliffs and camped there. The view was amazing, especially once sunset hit (sorry, pictures to come. Film=undeveloped).

The beer was flowing like wine. And while I could go into details of song and stories told around the campfire, the truly interesting event happened around midnight. All had gone to bed save for me and Eric. We were fairly drunk at the time, just lounging in front of the fire seeing how many pine needles we could burn, when the campfire exploded, sending embers everywhere. I jumped up and and brushed them out of my hair, slightly panicking like a little girl. Once we collected our thoughts, we looked around and saw the damage.

Everywhere around us, the ground was littered with little glowing embers, about 25 feet around. Quite a captivating sight. It was a moonless night, so it was pretty much pitch black except for these orange dots on the ground. We yelled for everyone to get up and start stomping them out before something went up in flames (rain aside, this is still New Mexico).

Once that crisis was averted, everyone went back to bed and Eric and I stayed up to drink more and think about what had happened. I had a truly Ubik moment, joking with him that right now we were being airlifted to the hospital after being covered in horrible burns, but we were both coexisting on this different dimensional plane, unaware of what was actually happening. I think I can safely say after 42 hours I was wrong, but at that time of drunken stupor, I wasn't sure.

The next morning, we found the culprit: a can of chili. Wolf brand chili (curse you, Lyman Davis!). Apparently, one of us had put the closed can near the fire, and it slowly began to work up pressure and heat until it finally exploded, taking half of the fire with it. The crazy thing, though, was that it was found 25 feet away from the campfire, having sailed over the tents and my friend's car. Inside the can, there was no trace of chili; it was perfectly clean. Not even a burn mark. Around the campfire, no chili. Freaked us out. There was nary a trace of bean nor meat anywhere.

There were, though, traces of the fire. All the chairs had holes in them from the embers, one tent got some holes, but nothing on me or Eric. I don't know, it was truly surreal, but I've rambled on far enough. Dinnertime.

Kids Say the Darndest Things

The Lord works in mysterious ways. Eerie, scary, mysterious ways.



For those who can't open videos on this site, go here: http://www.ifilm.com/ifilmdetail/2758257. I don't know what to say about this clip. I'm kinda freaked out, but this girl - who can't be more than ten - can really command a room. Kids this young shouldn't be this adept at demagoguery. My advice to you is to book a flight to Rio and join the Crusade now before it's too late.

Sorry, I'm having problems with the browser at work, so I can't hyperlink. Sure, the easy solution would be to wait until I get home to post this, but where's the fun in that?

Warning: Silly Questions May Result in Shuriken to Face

I realize that many of you visit this site like crazed fanatics for insight, knowledge, and humor; I thank you for that. Sometimes, though, the sagacious wisdom of a ninja is needed to clean those nitty, gritty, hard-to-reach areas of the brain. But how does one track a ninja down? The Yellow Pages? Your local Chamber of Commerce? Checking you city's sewer systems?

Answer: www.askaninja.com. Finally, normal people like you and me (well, mostly you) can ask a ninja pressing questions like the history of the number 3, a ninja's love of heavy metal, midget ninjas (minjas), or what a ninja thinks of Pirates of the Caribbean Part Deux. It kicks Jeeve's snooty, pretentious, limey ass all over the internets.

"For my birthday, he upgraded my RAM and I thought it was incredibly romantic."

Every time I sit back and think, "Why did I stay away from the blogosphere for so long?" I read something like this and remember why. Enjoy.

Rock Over London, Rock On Chicago...

I was on the site of one Jon P Nease today, and saw a blog headline that caught my eye: Wesley Willis Song Generator. The name really says it all. Now you can make your own "Vampire Bat" in the comfort of your own home! Here's my song, "Greg Klein's Techno Dinosaur:"

About 28400 people like Greg Klein's Techno Dinosaur.
I like Greg Klein's Techno Dinosaur a lot.
You can really rock it out.
I love you a lot in the long run.

GREG KLEIN'S TECHNO DINOSAUR!!!
GREG KLEIN'S TECHNO DINOSAUR!!!
GREG KLEIN'S TECHNO DINOSAUR!!!
GREG KLEIN'S TECHNO DINOSAUR!!!

You really whoop Saddam Hussein's ass.
You can really get in the groove.
You really whoop a snow lepoard's ass.
I like you well.

GREG KLEIN'S TECHNO DINOSAUR!!!
GREG KLEIN'S TECHNO DINOSAUR!!!
GREG KLEIN'S TECHNO DINOSAUR!!!
GREG KLEIN'S TECHNO DINOSAUR!!!

I like you a lot in the long run.
You make the joyride music.
You are the savage king.
You can really rock your ass off.

Rock over London,
Rock on Chicago.

Be a Pepper - drink Dr. Pepper


We all miss you Wesley. The world shed a tear when you left and joined the choir invisible. I'm sure you're keeping God and the Jesus very entertained.

Oh My God! That Chair, It's En Fuego!

That's "on fire," for those who don't hablo espanol.

The visit from Gubbs a few weeks back sparked some memories of mischievous past events. He reminded me about the chair fire that took place in the Beta Sig/Campus Lutheran parking lot. My memories are fuzzy and spotty, but I do remember quite the crowd herding around the flaming piece of furniture. I think there was some dancing, some rejoicing, some general hijinks and hilarity. If you can remember better than I (and there are several fellow bloggers who I think were there...you know who you are!), I'd love to hear some of the charred details.

The great thing is that the burnt shell of the chair sat in the parking lot for the next few months. Cars had to drive around it, it was inconvenient, but no one moved it. I'd like to think they left it there out of respect and memorium.

But how great that evening was, it has its roots steeped in tradition. These pictures you see are from the first chair fire that took place in the backyard of Kagua House, in Albuquerque. If you remember the house I spoke of in the Cops post about the arrested transvestite, this is the same house. What happens when spare furniture and alcohol get together? We answered that age-old question.

Sure, it doesn't seem like there's much to it: add one unused chair, some lighter fluid, a little alcohol, and voila! But its beauty lies in its simplicity. For those enamored with what I've said, be sure to spread the love of the chair fire to friends and family around your local area. Just one time being exposed to this pyromaniacal delinquency and you'll come away feeling cleansed and wholly entertained. You're welcome.

Dignity and an Empty Sack Is Worth the Sack

Life's lessons, courtesy of the Ferengi. For all you future merchants and entrepreneurs, I introduce you to The Rules of Acquisition, a set of rules and guidelines provided to you for maximum profitability.

Three other important rules to remember:
144. There's nothing wrong with charity...as long as it ends up in your pocket.
152. A lie is a way to tell the truth to someone who doesn't know.
189. Let others keep their reputation. You keep their money.

And don't forget the all-important Unwritten Rule: when no rule applies...make one up. Now go make something of your life, you slackers.

Earmuffs.

Fuckin' A, folks, if you're fuckin' like me, you're fuckin' always running in and out of the fucking house, no time to sit the fuck down and enjoy a fucking screening of Big Lebowski. Well fuck, worry no more. Now you can fucking watch this fucking pocket-sized, edited version of fuckin' Lebowski, coming in at a fucking svelte 2:14. Fuck guys, it's fuckin' sweet.



Disclaimer: the above post and video may have contained some graphic language. Don't worry, it was all for comedic effect. Get the fuck over it.

"He seems to be hung up on superheroes' sex organs."

It ends a bit suddenly, but it's still entertaining. See, what this person did is splice the audio from Mallrats and place it over the video from an episode of Superfriends. Wow, what will people think of next; editing down movies, leaving only the profanity? That'll be the day.

It's a Musicstravaganza!

Well it looks like all that hard work at the office last week paid off, because we made bonus for one of the magazines. And what better use to spend said money than a trip to the music store (paying down credit cards is so boring). I walked out with a Faith No More double DVD, a Ben Folds Five DVD, and Spoon’s reissue of Telephono with the Soft Effects EP. Currently, Mr. Folds is on the telly behind me, playing an amazing version of “Selfless, Cold, and Composed.” I struggle to quell the tears.

The Ben Folds was a sort of impulse buy, as were the gummy bears at the register (I never turn down Haribo Gold-Bears. NEVER!). Initially, I had gone in for the Faith No More and Spoon, but Ben Folds was staring right at me as I picked up the FNM. And how could I resist, when it was looking at me with these sad eyes, wanting to find a good home? The FNM, however, was essential: a full concert and every music video they made. Oh yes. Refer to six posts below to see why I’m so excited.

And then there’s Spoon. This Austin band of rockers has been Grego’s favorite band for quite some time, but a recent string of bad luck has kept Telephono out of my grasp. My Spoon collection is now complete, and I feel more whole as a person as well. How nice of Spoon to realize the position I was in and rerelease not only their first album, but also their EP that shortly followed. Keep a lookout for some upcoming Spoon pandering.

I believe posts like this are what people refer to as “mailing it in.” But hey, you read it, so I guess my job is done. Good night, fooligans.

Steve Martin Plays A Mean Banjo, and Mel Gibson Plays A Mean Anti-Semite

Now while this may be old news to…well, probably all of you, I felt it fun to bring up. The Passion of the Mel recently got pulled over for a DUI. But this seemingly normal celebrity drunk driving case has an added twist: while being arrested, he started berating the officer, asking him if he was Jewish and stating that Jews are responsible for starting numerous wars. Frankly, I can’t believe it. Mel Gibson anti-semitic? Maybe if we would have had some indication, some hints into his twisted psyche, maybe this wouldn’t be so shocking. Although this makes the South Park episode with him in it that much funnier.

And on a lighter note, I recently acquired the comediscography of Steve Martin. While I already loved the silly wit of Steve Martin, I found out that he plays the banjo…really well. Amazingly well. If you have a chance, listen to Let’s Get Small, his first album. It’s comic gold. Plenty of banjo playing and banjo-related humor, too, like the inability to play a sad song with the banjo, or how the banjo could have saved Nixon. Wow, I just used “banjo” four times in a sentence. Top that, fooligans!

Never Eat Octopus at a Chinese Buffet, and Other Observations

Here's a few fun things I found out over the last twenty-four hours. I hope you can learn a thing or two as well.

1. Never eat octopus at a Chinese buffet. And fried oysters, too. In fact, just stay away from seafood. Yes, I know you LOVE shrimp, but it's for the best. See, I have a weekly ritual of eating sushi every Sunday. My friends, though, said, "Let's go to China Star. It's cheaper, and you can get sushi there." Yeah, what just went through your head went through mine also. But I decided to go with them, and I'd see what they had to offer. Turns out they only had crab rolls, and I'm allergic to shellfish. I did, however, try their octopus and fried oysters. The octopus didn't taste bad, but I could only eat half the oyster; tasted a little too fishy (pun intended). I won't go into details, but things went south around 8 that evening. Guess why I didn't go into work today.

2. Cops is a great show, especially when it takes place in your home town. Let's take a tally of the debauchery thus far: two domestic disturbances; one high-speed chase with shots fired; one possesion of meth, a loaded firearm, and $3500; and two crack deals. I once saw my friend's house across the street during an arrest of a transvestite. I love this town. Funny thing: our mayor, Martin Chavez, told Cops to stop coming to Albuquerque, as we were their most popular town they ever filmed. Apparently he thought it painted Albuquerque in a bad light, but you can't beat that kind of prime-time exposure.

3. The Cubs suck. Although I do have to hand it to the Cardinals. They realized how down Cubs fans must be right now, so they swallowed their pride and let Chicago sweep them in front of their home crowd. Bravo, St. Louis, that was very selfless. Now let's get back to winning.

With A Name Like Arrogant Bastard, How Can You Go Wrong?

Answer: you can’t.

I’m not afraid to say that throughout college I was a Bud Light drinker. A big one. Every now and then, I treated myself to some Boulevard Unfiltered Wheat. But in general, I was a slave to the fizzy yellow nonsense. Not to say I've become a beer snob, but once I moved to Albuquerque, my friend introduced me to a whole new world of beer. Along with checking out local microbreweries, I discovered Stone Brewery, from San Diego.

I don’t know how many of you have had the pleasure of drinking any of their beers, you’d remember if you had. First, their artwork on the bottles is amazing. You can see that (kinda) in the picture above. Those are all 22oz. bottles on one of the walls next to the fireplace in my house. We found out that God must a Stone beer fan, and made these shelves the exact height needed for a bottle. I’m very proud of it. A real sense of drunken accomplishment came with its completion.

No matter if you drink their Porter, their Double IPA (my favorite), the Russian Imperial Stout (which resembles motor oil), or Arrogant Bastard - their take on brown lagers - you will be overwhelmed by the taste. It’s strong, in both the alcoholic and flavor sense of the world. Check out their website, or just go to a liquor store and ask for their Stone products. This gets the GSA, Greg Seal of Approval. Be careful, though, too many of these can lead to hijinx and/or hilarity. Which leads me to my next post…

Friday Night Adventurisms

Ooh, trickery! You like that? I know you do.

But I digress; Friday night had quite a bit of Stone-induced mischief. After a long work week in the books, I celebrated with a bottle of Ruination, Stone’s Double IPA (remember?). Afterwards, I met up with a friend at Billy’s Long Bar for some happy hour drinks. Nothing too eventful happened. There was the usual ogling of the waitstaff, wondering what fights would break out (we saw one almost start, which my friend had correctly predicted), and general bullshitting.

We left the bar around 10. I had to run back to the house, but I told my friend I’d meet him at the next destination we were going: Horse and Angel. By the time I get there, my friend is in the parking lot talking to an obviously drunk girl, who said she had just been kicked out for fighting with someone else. They seemed to be hitting it off fairly well. I could tell by the way she kept rubbing up on him. They started getting closer, so I took that as a cue to go into the bar and wait for them to have their fun.

Five minutes later, they walk in the bar and tell me we’re going to his apartment to do a little drinking. He drives her, as she’s too drunk to drive. When we get there, I see her in proper light and almost lose it. On top of her near-drunken stupor, she had quite the haggard look to her. I think Josh noticed this, too. He said we needed to go to the store to get alcohol (we did), so we all pile in his truck and go to the closest store. We walk to the liquor section and start looking around. Miss Drunky is being horribly difficult, so Josh takes me to the side and whispers, “Greg, start walking to the truck. I’ll be right behind you.”

Instead of questioning, I start to walk back to his truck. Halfway through the parking lot, I look behind me and see Josh running out as fast as he can. We both run to the truck, pile in, and speed off, laughing, half out of shock (me) and half out of spite (Josh). Remember: her car is still at a bar halfway across town. And rather than calling it a night, we pick up my car and head off to a bar just down the street. There, I steal a shot of Jaeger someone so carelessly left on the bar, drink an Arrogant Bastard, got shot down by a girl who was OBVIOUSLY a lesbian, and almost get in a fight with three guys much bigger than me.

We were leaving the bar, and as I approach my car, I hear someone saying something about the two white guys walking to the green car. Assuming 1) they were talking shit, and 2) the shit was directed towards me, I start to yell about how cool they are they can talk shit to their friends about the white guys, and that when they get home, they should tell their friends and family about how they really showed us. There was more, all of it loud and caustic, but I can’t remember at the moment. Well, they didn’t take too kindly to it and started walking our way. I tell Josh this is our cue to leave, so we part ways, get in our cars, and drive off. As I do, I see two guys trying to scale a chain-link fence that had divided us, followed by a loud CLUNK on the hood. Upon further inspection this morning, they had hit my roof with a rock. Better that than the back window.

So yeah, there’s Friday evening in a nutshell. It’s good to be back. We’ll talk soon, fooligans.

I Live to Pander Yet Again

Howdy folks. It’s been a long deadline week at work; we had to ship all three magazines, which equals no fun for the poor copy editor who had to square up interviews, covers, product reviews, missing features…do I sound important yet? Good. Needless to say, my off-hours creativity suffered, which is why you've looked at Mike Patton all week (not a bad thing). But don't worry, Greggy's back, so the blogging shall recommence. Stay tuned for more goodies.

Get To Know Mike Patton

I heart Mike Patton. I've been looking at a blank screen trying to put into words the depth of my adoration, but I don't know where to start. Sure, I could write things like I think he's a modern-day Mozart, that he's the most dynamic lead singer in rock (headed Faith No More, Mr. Bungle, Fantomas, Tomahawk), that he changes genres like underwear, or that he's a delightfully mischeivous motherfucker (was dubbed a "shit terrorist" for leaving random poops in fun places like hotel driers or air vents), but I'll try to just convey my thoughts through videos. Trust me, I could carry on far longer than the GNR post below, as I own the discography for all three bands in the above parenthetical (22 albums total), but the visual/aural stimulation is much more fun (and easy) for everyone.

You just watched "From Out of Nowhere" by Faith No More, a band in which 99% of you have only heard the song "Epic" (remember the dying fish and exploding piano?). Amazingly well-made, complex, dynamic rock n roll. They toured with GNR and Metallica, a show I would have clubbed baby seals and kicked puppies (like I already need an excuse) to see. Angel Dust is a perfect example of this band in its prime.

The next comes courtesy of Mr. Bungle, a band Mike Patton was in pre-FNM and continued to front because I guess FNM wasn't crazy enough. There's a whole amalgam of genres here: ska, rock, metal, funk, salsa, 50s music (listen to "Vanity Fair"), all mashed together. Keep in mind he was releasing albums with both bands at the same time. "My Ass Is on Fire" is a prime example of the eccentricity of Mr. Bungle. I love the masks, too, combined with the thought that this is probably what a lot of Mr. Bungle shows looked like. I know, it's awesome. Get California, probably the band's most accessible album, and a damn fun one to boot.



Finally, we finish the night with Fantomas, Mike Patton's metal band. This is quite possibly some of the most MANIC music you'll hear. It's everywhere at the same time. Sure, that may be a bit vague, but those familiar with Mike Patton know what I mean. This isn't Sunday afternoon, sit down and relax music. Although The Director's Cut, their take on movie themes, is pure genius. Below, they play a Slayer medley from one of their live shows. Enjoy.

Interesting sidenote: Mike Patton has said he'd love to do the music for a David Lynch movie. Now while I have my feelings against David Lynch (Lost Highway...WTF?), the Mike Patton factor would be enough for me to see it.

Shall I go into Tomahawk, Peeping Tom, Lovage? I could, but this is getting longer than I anticipated. So I'll leave you with two last songs to check (honor system?) by Tomahawk: "101 North" and "God Hates a Coward."

Thanks for humoring me in getting to know a true musical icon. The more I listen to these albums, the more blown away I am by the sheer range with which Mike Patton operates. Now make Mikey proud and play all three videos at the same time. Rock.

You Wanted the Best? Well They Didn't F*@#ing Make It!

So here's what you get, from Hollywood...Guns N' Roses!

Today, faithful readers, marks a huge day in rock history. In 1987, a certain band named Guns N' Roses exploded onto the scene, releasing Appetite for Destruction, one of the most important rock albums of all time, and a Top 5 Favorite Album for a certain Gregory Steven Klein.

With GNR, you had rock stars that looked and acted like rock stars. None of this makeup-applying, spandex-wearing, cocaine-laced anthem rock that saturated 80s rock up to this point. Sure, you had the cocaine (okay, a LOT of cocaine), some of the anthem rock, but GNR was the real deal. They were the kind of band who would play and fit in well at a dingy biker bar, full of broken bottles, blood, and fights (half of which they probably started).

On top of the decadence that Slash, Duff McKagan, Izzy Stradlin, and Steve Adler already brought to the band, you have one Mr. W. Axl Rose. Axl encapsulated everything positive and negative (more the latter) about being a rock star. He was a drunk, an egotistical asshole, a bit prone to violence and impulsiveness, but damn he had a set of friggin lungs.

Guns N' Roses was the reality check rock needed at the time, grounding its glamorized playfulness with a 12-track shotgun blast to the gut. From the start of "Welcome to the Jungle," when the siren and screeching guitars yank you into a dark alley, you're kept captive in their seedy underworld until the epic end of "Rocket Queen." But there's so much in between. You have "Mr. Brownstone," a song about the hold heroin can take on a band and one of the best rock intros to boot; "Paradise City," the quintessential anthem rock song that's the shortest 6:44 you'll ever experience; "Night Train," about everyone's favorite two-buck chuck; and "Sweet Child O Mine," the power ballad that set the ballad bar about five feet higher afterwards (until "November Rain" came along). I won't go into details for each song, I think you get where I'm going with this. Appetite is sleazy, boozy, horribly rocked out, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Say what you will about the band's short life, their overreaching in complexity (strings, piano, a brass section, and backup singers), or Axl's $13 million ever-forthcoming album, do yourself a favor today: set aside the usual scorn you have for my love of GNR, and buy/download/listen to a genre-changing, no-holds-barred, red-blooded rock album.

---

Big P.S. - Apparently I have a secret spamirer, and she likes leaving silly little coments in EVERY post, not once, but twice. Now while I realize it's hard to find some qualiy blogging better than what you just read above, and flattery gets you everywhere with me, you now have to write "drvvxm" to tell me how awesome I am. Small price to pay. Goodnight, fooligans.

That's Gubbelicious!

Okay, so it's an older picture, but when one has an excuse to whip out some nostalgia, I say go for it. This is from the black-tie soiree that still ranks as one of my favorite nights. Thanks again to all who made it out, it meant a lot.

But I digress. Yesterday, everyone in the 505 was treated to a certain Mr. Christopher Gubbels driving through for the night after two weeks south de la border with his girlfriend, Trish. It was a fun time had by all, even by the high schoolers who wanted to fight us after we yelled they were driving the wrong way on the street (which they were).

We had a few drinks around town, I showed them the lights of the city, which looks amazing, and we played with their Rey Mysterio lucha libre mask, which turns you into a high-flying badass upon donning it. Sadly (or thankfully?) there was no mischief committed, as the mask-wearing was kept within the safety of my four walls. Yeah, definitely sadly.

I was a poor host in the morning, though; I had to leave early to argue with the bank before I went to work, but it still was great to see them. Godspeed, Gubbs, our paths shall cross again.

And since he's first to vist me since I've moved out here, he's shot up quite a few rungs on the friendship ladder. You all could take a lesson. Not sayin, just sayin.

The Format Are Your Friend

Evening fooligans, thought I'd drop you a quick line about this band a friend of mine has told me about. They're called The Format, and they're coming to a town near you (but not to Albuquerque of course). They're some of the most fun you'll have this summer with their recent release, Dog Problems. A big thanks to the Security Chicken for the reminder.

Think a marriage between Shins and Boy Least Likely To, maybe a hint of Jimmy Eat World (if you're Mormon), with the lovechild resulting in probably some of the best indie pop you've heard in a long while. I'm currently trying my damndest to stay seated in my chair while "Time Bomb" plays. Weaker men than I would get up and dance around the room, but I must write on. I hope you appreciate the sacrifice.

Do yourself a favor and check Dog Problems out, it's dancibly delicious! I'd write more about it, but the alcohol is calling me to that big, comfy bed in the corner. I hope you understand. Talk soon, we will. Enjoy the album.

Good Intentions, Better Picture

I know what you're thinking: Greg, you sexy, witty man, how can this picture, which makes me smile just like that hooded thug, be real? It's too...amazing...to come from an actual brick-and-mortar political activist organization.

I thought the same thing. But then I swung by the website for the Jews for the Preservation of Firearm Ownership, and my eyes were opened. I had no idea the problems the Chosen People face, such as, "Is carrying a firearm on Shabbat prohibited because it is 'muktzah?'" or "Are gun laws keeping Jews from defending themselves while getting attacked on the street?" Answers: no and yes, respectively. Read the articles to see why.

So visit the website and edumacate yourself not only about the issues affecting Jews and their guns, but also get a healthy dose of some good ole' fashioned fear mongering.

Shalom.

I Miss You More than Michael Bay Missed the Mark...

I was quite excited at work yesterday when a coworker told me about an upcoming live-action Transformers movie. In particular, a scene of a certain Decepticon taking out the Beagle 2 on Mars in a quick teaser trailer. Check it out here. But then I saw what followed and all hopes built up crashed oh so hard to the ground. Director - Michael Bay.

I got shivers. The man who brought us gems like Pearl Harbor or the upcoming Miami Vice now has the reins for this? But I guess if you're seeing a Transformers movie, you aren't going for a good script or believability, but rather two hours of overstylized eye candy. I'll start taking bets about how much overbudget and behind schedule they'll be. Over/Under: $60 million, 3 months.

Finally, Mr. Bay gave me an excuse to play this. Enjoy.

What waits at the end of the rainbow?

A big, bubbling pot of lies!

After leaving my uncle's work today, I saw a rainbow shining down in the middle of Albuquerque. It actually looked like it touched down around where I lived. So I thought it'd be fun to try to find the end of it, curious of what might await me. No, there was no pot of gold, no leprechaun waiting to grant my wish, and no Scarlett Johansson.

Turns out that rainbows are optical illusions caused by the water vapor in the sky. Sure, I may have known this, but I went ahead anyway. I don't know if this is sad, pathetic, romantic...maybe a little of all three. And where did I end up after driving in vain? Spectators, a local sports bar I was pretty much raised in as a kid. There, I watched the Cardinals beat the Astros in the last two innings.

Then, I went to a bar next to my house and had a few there. Talked with some really cool people. So I guess while I may not have found gold, I enjoyed the night nonetheless. Awww...

Greatest. Cartoon. Ever.

I don't know how many of you watched Looney Tunes as a kid. Me, I was raised on it. Not only did I get up every Saturday morning to watch the Bugs Bunny/Road Runner Hour, but every time I saw it on television, the channel surfing stopped, if only for seven minutes. My sister, my dad, my mom...all Looney Tunes fans. God forbid, if I ever have a child, he or she will also be raised on Looney Tunes.

Looking past the whole slapstick aspect, their expressions, or the fact that most of the cartoons were synched up with a live orchestra, Looney Tunes were incredibly intelligent and so far ahead of their time (they talked to the audience during these cartoons!). Yes, the characters were animated, but they recognized this and embraced it. Their ability to poke fun at everything in popular culture, current events, or life in general was amazing. Plus, the ability to pull a stick of TNT or a sledghammer from behind your back always helps win laughs.

Favorite character: Daffy Duck (although unrelated, Homer Simpson and Eric Cartman follow closely behind). Eccentric, unpredictable, manic, wacky, sarcastic, self-centered, completely off-the-wall...he knew he deserved to be the number one star, but yet he was always the victim, always getting the short end of the stick. Growing up, I saw myself in Daffy, and he was a HUGE influence in my comedic upbringing. While his cartoons with just him are amazing, how he played off characters like Bugs Bunny and Porky Pig (I can't find online links to "Deduce, You Say" or "Robin Hood Daffy," but download them...NOW!) was just priceless. The one you're about to see below is kind of a mixture of the two types. Yes, I'm rambling, but that's okay.

You can't count the shows/movies/comedians/people in general who have been influenced by these cartoons. It's also probably why I own eight DVDs of Looney Tunes (and soon to own four more). So I thought, as a treat to you all (cause I like ya), here is "Duck Amuck," Pandering to Savages' all-time favorite cartoon. How Daffy reacts to the non-stop messing with the environment around him...pure genius. Enjoy, fooligans.

Stroking my 1st Amendment Rights (part 3 of 3): Dubya - The Blog Stops Here

And to finish up, I thought we’d have some fun with words and do a little Dubya acrostic. Thanks for bearing with me these last few days, I had to get some of this off my chest..

P – Phony. In 2000, he becomes one of only two presidents to lose the popular vote and still win. Chief Justice Rehnquist gets two votes for Bush. Second one matters a whole lot more. Quite the auspicious way to begin your presidency.
R – Reelected. HOW?! Okay, so Bush and Co. ran a great fear-mongering campaign and the Democrats were too cowardly to call Bush out on it or anything else he did. Plus, John Kerry couldn’t come up with anything to counter “flip-flop.” They lost the presidency themselves. Check out this video of the RNC highlights.
E – Environment, or his mockery of. Under Bush, EPA penalties against polluters have set a record 15-year low. He’s allowed power plants and refineries to increase production without worrying about reducing pollution. There’s the drilling in Alaska, the selling of public land to timber interests in Oregon, and a third of his appointments to federal courts worked as lobbyists for polluting industries, such as oil, gas, timber, and mining. I could go on.
S –Social Security, and his attempt to privatize it. As if Americans didn’t have enough to worry about, now they all have to become overnight brokers and soundly and intelligently invest their Social Security? Now, the hole we find ourselves in isn’t entirely his fault, but he’s dealing with it the completely wrong way.
I – Iraq, the war that would define his presidency. Well, how has that gone? We all remember “Mission Accomplished,” but since then, we have a thriving insurgency, a country missing the most basic of amenities in many of the regions, 125,000 Iraqis dead, and the ever-looming possibility of a civil war. Bush has said that this will be a problem for future presidents…he’s already passing the buck on his great war! But not to worry: America has built 14 “enduring” military bases, including the largest American military base in the world.
D – Diplomacy. Paul Wolfowitz was appointed as President of the World Bank and John Bolton was appointed as Ambassador to the United Nations. ‘Nuff said.
E – Eloquence, or lack thereof. When you can have a day-by-day calendar of muddled quotes by our leader, I don’t know if it’s really funny or really sad? Probably a little of both. This is the most powerful man in the world, he speaks for our country, and he can’t put together a sentence.
N – Nine Eleven. Looking past the horrible tragedy, 9/11 was a gift-wrapped blank check for Bush to get away with anything he wanted. If anyone questioned his overseas conflicts or his domestic surveillance, he need only refer to the Twin Towers and scare you into thinking it could happen again and call his opponents un-American if they disagree with him. I mean, you’re not FOR terrorism, are you?
T – Tax cuts. When we’re running a record deficit, what do we need? More tax cuts for the wealthy. Hooray! Yes, Bush has rewarded those who have put him in office by convincing you that you’ll benefit from these cuts, while the majority will go to those in the upper income level. Because that money wouldn’t be better spent going back into the system and helping failing programs and domestic issues. Lee Raymond needs to buy himself another Bentley. And you all fell for it. Shame on you.

B – Brown, Michael. Sure, there had been jokes of cronyism in Bush's administration, but Katrina really brought it to the forefront. The president of an Arabian horse club is the head of FEMA when the worst disaster ever hits American soil. Egg, meet face. Of course, to be fair, Katrina was a failure on all levels of the government, not just Bush.
U – Underage Drinking. Okay, so this is just an opportunity to showcase the Bush twins and their ability to close down a bar. Who wouldn’t love to go out and party with these two?
S – School neglect. I speak of No Child Left Behind. Because all school systems, rich or poor, are essentially the same, right? And rather than taking the time and effort to go in and evaluate schools, let’s just make a cookie-cutter test students take one day of the year to judge schools and pass out funding that way. Even if that worked, there are still HUGE questions if the funding would be there. This is just further evidence of where Bush places his importance on domestic issues and enriching the future of this country. Sad.
H – History, and how it will shine on him. After reading this, I think we can all safely say it won’t be in a good light.

I’m sure there were many different angles to take this, there’s just too much material to work with. Oh well, now we can get back to the fun stuff, sorry for the three-day buzzkill. Happy 4th everyone!

Stroking my 1st Amendment Rights (part 2 of 3): Congress - The Old Boys' Club

And let’s continue.

Two-party system. Who knew the problems of our country could so easily be cut down party lines? Now while I think this is an outdated system, it’s certainly better than the one-party government we have right now. All hail the mighty corporation.

You haven’t heard? Congressmen no longer serve the interests of its constituents, but rather the lobbyists. Do you fuel their election campaign, or even fuel their jet on their trips to play golf with foreign diplomats? Congress has no more need for the common man when powerful oil/energy/car/pharmaceutical/tobacco companies tell them what’s best for the country. And all they ask is a little help thrown their way. Is that so bad? We’re busy people; we don’t have time to keep up with all the mundane goings-on of Congress. We need people like Lee Raymond from Exxon to help shape environmental policy.

More evidence we don’t matter anymore. Congress recently voted down the minimum wage raise (still $5.15) while giving themselves yet another pay increase, raising their pay $3100, what they like to call a “cost of living” increase. And good for them. Sure, this money could have been better spent on single mothers working two jobs trying to raise a family, but that would have put too much undue stress on the business owner. Forget the fact that the federal minimum wage hasn’t been raised since 1997, isn’t adjusted for inflation, and the relative buying power is the lowest since the early 50’s. I just would have thought with all the voracious spending the 109th has been more than willing to do, those who truly needed it could have received even a little bit of help. But again, what does Poory McPoverty do to help them? Odds are, he doesn’t even vote.

And don't forget about all those great stories coming out about individual congressmen/lobbyists and thier abuse of power. Tom Delay stepped down after charges of conspiracy in fundraising; William Jefferson stepped down from the Ways and Means Committee after $90,000 was found in his freezer; Duke Cunningham is going to jail for 100 months after pleading guilty to tax evasion, mail fraud, wire fraud, and conspiracy to commit bribery (don't worry, he may still receive his pension); Patrick Kennedy was just given a ride home and a wink and a smile after plowing into a barricade (probably driving drunk); and Jack Abramoff, superlobbyist, has pleaded guilty to three counts of buying everything in Washington. These notables just scrape the surface, you get the point.

Of course, to get your mind off this, we have idiotic debates and laws over issues that shouldn’t matter. Gay marriage comes notably to mind, violence in video games ruining our youth, and of course, the hearings on baseball. The media then, in turn, proceeds to fill the airwaves with analysis of these useless issues instead of talking about the problems that face our country. Fluff.

Now we have the immigration issue. Every senator who says he’d like to throw every illegal immigrant in jail I want to hit with a tack hammer. As if our prisons weren’t already full enough with people who shouldn’t be there, now we want to add the millions of illegals to the prison system? Now I’m not saying they all deserve amnesty, that would be completely unfair to those who have waited years to become a citizen legally. But instead of the quick fix (and LONG problem after) of incarceration, wouldn’t a more constructive way be to concede that we’re going to have immigrants coming over the border and offer incentives for them to register themselves for temporary work visas? Let them pick beans here, I sure don’t want to do it, and I’m sure all these ignorant citizens decrying the aliens don’t want to either. Once you do that, then hike up the penalties to employers and aliens not following the laws. Make it so easy for them to register with us that there’s no excuse for them not to. Now the big question is whether or not the cost of this added governmental department and more bureaucracy is higher than just throwing them in jail, but like I said, the 109th loves spending money. Hell, they just raised the debt ceiling. Part of this is the President’s fault, but I’ll get to him tomorrow.

In fact, I've probably carried on long enough, there really is too much to tackle (i.e. Greg's hatred of Bill Frist and Rick Santorum) in one post about the shortcomings of Congress, and tomorrow could get away from me even worse. Stay tuned, have a great Monday.

Stroking my 1st Amendment Rights (part 1 of 3): Gettin Busy with Old Glory

Happy 4th of July weekend, everyone. I hope you're like me and have a four-day weekend off, plenty of time to celebrate your nation's independence by blowing up a small part of it. I thought it'd be fun, since we have so much time together over the next few days, to give you my thoughts about our nation. And first, I thought I'd start out with our beloved flag.

Right now, a flag sits at my computer desk. It's one of those small impulse buy flags that sit next to registers at gas stations. There were a few in a tin while I was picking up a pack of smokes and a pepsi at a Texaco. Out of curiosity, I checked the tag on it, and something funny caught my eye: Made in China. I had to buy it, if not for the irony of it all, but also for the enjoyment I'll get out of watching it burn.

Ever since 9/11, the fashionable thing has been to see who can outpatriot their neighbor, wrapping yourself in the flag to make sure everyone knows you're not a terrorist. Likewise, Congress has also tried to pass amnendments/laws to prove to both constituents and fellow Congressmen that they loves them some America. There was the Freedom Fries thing, and just this week, the Senate recently tried to pass an amendment protecting our poor flag from being burned.

Thankfully it failed. And I'd like to applaud those 34 Senators who didn't get caught up in all this blind patriotic propaganda. Our freedom to dissent is an important right. When I see that our national symbol is being made by a communist country that kills over 10,000 people (at least) a year, that filters the internet with the consent of companies like Google and Yahoo, and is America's second-largest lender, something inside me just doesn't sit right.

There are far bigger ills that threaten our country than people lighting a flag on fire (social security, education, iraq). C'mon people, it's a piece of colored cloth, it's not like a baby dies every time a flag burns. It's a symbol of what our country stands for: freedom and liberty for all its citizens, regardless of color, creed, or political views. I have to cut this short as it's time to go to the baseball game, but we'll keep this going tomorrow. Talk to you soon, fooligans.