Cornflake Bowl

With College Football Bowl Week in full swing, I must quote my fiancée who says, “America is striving toward mediocrity.” Surely if the way that the NCAA has changed the whole structure of college bowl system since 2006 isn’t a shining example of this, then I’m not sure I could come up with one as fitting. Think about this:
From Wiki: “The Tournament of Roses eventually sponsored an annual contest starting with the 1916 Tournament of Roses football game. With the 1923 Rose Bowl it began to be played at the newly completed Rose Bowl stadium, and thus the contest itself became known as the Rose Bowl game.” *
So this is the first college bowl game and has been the golden prize for as many years. But as college football grew, so did the need for season ending battles between the brightest and the best; thus the Orange Bowl, the Cotton Bowl Classic, the Sugar Bowl – which were the brass rings – and two lesser promoted bowls, the Hawaii Bowl and the Sun Bowl. And that was it, folks, the trophy games, the thing that only the best earned and won.
But now, football fans and even those who don’t give a crap, listen up. This had been the way college football had been played until the seventies. Now, by 2000 there were twenty-five bowl games, and as of 2008, thirty-four. So what does Wiki say about this? Listen:
“As the number of bowl games has grown (in 2008, there were 34), a bowl game has become a season-ending event for virtually every team with a winning record and the games have gained increased importance for the revenue they bring to participating programs and the opportunity to recruit new players to the teams.
In recent years, the term "bowl" has become synonymous with any major American football event, generally collegiate football with some significant exceptions (see Super Bowl). One example is the Iron Bowl, a nickname given to the annual game between the University of Alabama Crimson Tide and the Auburn University Tigers.” *
Right.
So, basically, any college team that plays football can expect to play in a post season bowl game. This evening, the Gaylord’s Hotel Music City Bowl featuring Kentucky and Clemson is taking place. With absolutely no offense intended to either school, what the fuck is up with that? The bowl games, which were played on and around New Year’s Day, used to mean something. They were events not to be missed if you’re a football fan. But the Gaylord’s Hotel Music City Bowl? The Meineke Car Care Bowl? Or my personal favorite, The Roady’s Truck Stop’s Humanitarian Bowl?
Look, I mean no offense to any of the sponsors of these football games, nor especially to the teams, but I do mean offense to the pile of idiots who had to took the shine off of what was a perfectly good post season system that made everyone talk, before and after the games. People gathered around the television on New Year’s Day to watch the Rose Bowl, the day after to watch the Cotton Bowl Classic. Now it’s just game after game beginning the day after Christmas. By the time we get to the big games, it’s almost a so what unless your team is playing. Similar to Christmas music and ornaments in stores beginning the day after Halloween.
So if any of you out there in cyber land are in a position to rethink this plethora of College Bowl Games, and remember the feeling of just those few, those few big bowl games that nobody wanted to miss, man, just tell those assholes: sometimes it’s not just all about revenue. It’s about the football. Especially if you’re part of the SEC. Nuff said.



* Wikimedia Foundation. "Bowl Game." Wikipedia. Wikimedia Foundation, 20 Dec.
2009. Web. 27 Dec. 2009. .

LIfe Before You Know It

Life Before You Know It

I used to be young and naïve. I thought the sun rose every day and the dusk came behind it no matter what. But now I know that the sun may physically rise but the heart can remain dark. And the dusk may come but the day does not end. We are creatures of habit and we expect what we are told, what we are taught, and what our senses tell us. Habit is an unhappy word. I cannot think of one thing that goes well with the word habit. Not even love. If love is a habit, then your heart is sure to be broken, depend on that.

the sun set grey and tangerine the night I discovered that life was not fair. It was not a deck of cards dealt; the common metaphor. It was not what is given you, for I never asked. It is not the road laid before you, for I choose my own path. So life, then, is what? A conundrum. An enigma. These are common misconceptions, the easy way out, the God Basket. So then, what?
A longing. A taste never satisfied. An uncooked meal that goes to waste for waiting for the guests to partake. A water dish half full. A pack on your back and the soles of your feet calloused like shoe leather. This is life.

Love and hate, these are functions of life. One depends on the other, for how can one truly love without knowing how to hate? And how can one hate without knowing how badly love can hurt? These are the best lessons we can learn. The sad part is, to learn them truly we have to experience the worst pain that there is. No physical pain can measure. Drive a knife through my skin, it cannot hurt as bad as the complete knowledge that a loved one is gone forever. Press hot coals to my body, it cannot compete with the knowledge that I caused someone I love dearly great pain. Experience is the only teacher that one can trust to be truthful. Experience is the only teacher that allows the reality of what is to be and what once was to exist at once.

So we ask ourselves: How can somebody love me? And if they love me, how can I deal with the pain of their loss? But how does a sculptor know when his piece is done. How does he know that not one more carve here or not one more pinch here is the recipe for the perfect being, the perfect piece? He knows because beauty is what beauty must be. Beauty is the one subjective thing in this life that defines our individualism. So if somebody truly loves you, then any amount of anything extra will not take away from the beauty that is. And if one feels that there needs to be conformation, then it is not love, and there is no truth. Love is experience, beauty is permanence, joy is acceptance.

Does Health Care mean Welfare?

Several years ago I watched the movie “John Q” about a blue collar working man whose son became seriously ill and his company's medical insurance did not cover it. The strongest point for me in that movie was when he (the character played by Denzel Washington) was going to every government agency he could think of to get some supplemental medical insurance for his son and one of the clerks told him, “You should be on welfare. If you were on welfare, we could cover this.”

That statement is all to real and is somehow the root of our economic system, most importantly our heath care system. We hear every day the numbers of people in this country who do not have health care insurance. They work, they make decent incomes, but they cannot afford the exorbitant cost of health care. Not just insurance, but HEALTH CARE. In a capitalistic society such as ours, any first year economics student could tell you that the core of capitalism is the supply and demand doctrine.
When you plug that into health care, the demand always outweighs the supply, so the cost becomes prohibitive for all but the one percent of the country whose incomes are in the seven plus digit range.
So where does that leave the ninety-nine percent of hard working Americans when they become seriously ill? It leaves us with the choice to become unemployed and significantly poor in order to qualify for Medicaid, or become ill enough that the hospital must take you in and take your house later. Some system.

Those of you who know me are aware that I know more than just a little bit about this. When I was diagnosed with cancer twelve years ago, I was indigent and therefore I qualified for indigent care. The problem with this kind of care lies with the doctors who are directed to work these cases; they quickly forget the Hippocratic oath and the tenets of Aesculapius, the Greek God of medicine and healing.
These doctors seem to feel that if there is little money to be made, their will be little care given. Add a huge ego and tons of radiation, and you end up with a problem far worse than it was. How many other people have gone through this “cattle car” medicine because they too had no insurance and had to receive indigent care? How many more people will the government allow to die because they can't afford to go to the doctor? If we become seriously ill are we expected to quit our jobs so that welfare will cover our butts? Either way, its on the government dime. Seems to me that it would be far more efficient and economically sound if the government were to implement a health care system pre-paid by the taxpayers and the federal budget. But as soon as I say this, as soon as this is suggested by the media, everyone screams “Socialism” and the health care system remains broken. It's time to learn that socialized medicine does not mean communism. It's time to find out that America is the last of the free world countries to not have some sort of government medical system, socialized medicine or not.
But it's time. It's time that we don't allow one more person to become the victim of an egocentric doctor pissed off because he has to work “the free clinic” or take in a non-paying patient. It's time that we wake up and pull our heads out of our tight capitalist asses and fix this. It's time that America becomes healthy again. Health care for everyone, it's not that difficult a concept. Especially when Americans are more than willing to pay up to $2.00 in state and federal taxes per pack of cigarettes and between $1.50 and $20.76 per gallon of liquor.* So ask yourself, are you really THAT willing to pay so much in taxes to contribute to the likelihood of contracting a serious illness yet not pay a dime in taxes for a central health care system? Man, are we fucked up.

* data from http://www.taxfoundation.org/taxdata/show/245.html

Quitcherbitchen

After reading a recent article, "American Capitalism Gone With a Whimper" at Pravda online, I have several things to say. First of all, I, personally, resent being referred to as sheeple. However I do agree that every other American cares more about whether their quarter pounder has cheese on it or not than they do about what's going on in the world. You should see the movie "Idiocracy." It's hilarious but also scary for those of you who are well informed. However, I do not agree with the constant haranguing about Obama and the money he's allowed Congress to spend to bring this economy, this country right again. And the repubs want to talk about how much he has spent in the first hundred? When Cowboy B left office on January 20, 2009, the national debt was $10,626,877,048,913.08.that's trillions baby, trillions. That's more than every president before him combined. And he wasn't trying to bail the country out of serious debt and a depressed economy. When Bush was sworn in on January 20, 2001, the national debt was $5,727,776,738,304.64. The growth in the national debt during his eight years in office: $4,899,100,310,608.44.The average yearly growth in the national debt during Bush's presidency: $612,387,538,826.05. When Bush came to the Oval Office, the national budget was balanced, even with a surplus. But, with Cowboy B in office with all the nation's money at his fingertips, he felt like the guy in Monopoly that gets the racecar and has lots of little plastic buildings on Broadway and Park Place. Only Bush knew it was real money (oh, goodie!!) and proceeded to play the game anyway, to hell with all the little folks who couldn't even get a single house on Oriental Ave.
And then there's the republican President wannabe McCain who played the game so well he didn't even know how many houses he had! But that's okay, he was probably friends with the banker and didn't even have to pay the two hundred dollar fine for landing on GO. What about Get Out Of Jail Free cards? Well, there may be only two, but they figured out how to print up more, you know, just a bit of orange construction paper and a thick black pen. Gave them to all their buddies just in case.
Now we come to Obama, who inherits cowboy B's mess and gets lambasted for having to spend more money to clean it up. What would you have him do, sit in his comfotable chair in the oval office and play Monopoly with Hillary Clinton while the economy crashes completely and every American citizen ends up sleeping in their car, providing they have one? Why not, Bush did, and it seemed to work for him; I still see Bush/Chaney bumper stickers on SUV's. Yeah, usually only on SUV's, you know, the pricey ones that people buy because they are oblivious to the way things really are, global warming and pollution are for other people, not them. The dwindling of our national resources in order to fill such a huge beast's tank? Why that's somebody else's problem too. See how well they play along with Bush?
But back to Obama before I close this rant:
Part of the problem in our political system is that we have politicians running for the office of the presidency.
Politician, according to Merriam Webster:

1. a seeker or holder of public office, who is more concerned about winning favor or retaining power than about maintaining principles.

2. a person who seeks to gain power or advancement within an organization in ways that are generally disapproved.

Webster said it, not me. Truth can be an eye opener can't it?
Now then, Obama, on the other hand, is what we have needed in the oval office for a long while. He is a Statesman.
Statesman, according to Merriam Webster:

1.	a person who is experienced in the art of government or versed in the administration of government affairs.

2.	a person who exhibits great wisdom and ability in directing the affairs of a government or in dealing with important public issues.

Need I say more? Probably, but I'll let you stew on this awhile. See you in the funny pages.

Balance or tip the scales?

Okay, life is about balance. Nothing new there. But I got to thinking, and it's not only about balance, but what we sacrifice to keep that balance. Say you find the love of your life, but to be with him, you have to give up some part of your soul. Something that is uniquely YOU. Are you willing to take that chance? Willing to make that sacrifice? That is the balance that we all must keep. Choose to keep.
Do you give up your ability, your choice, your need to keep your immediate environment as close to your own life, your YOU, in order to share your life with your true love?
Okay, now you're going all Romeo and Juliet on me...you're saying, "but if he/she's your own true love wouldn't he/she be willing to move to where you need to be? Wouldn't he/she be willing to embrace your true environment? Let's get real kids. If said loved one lives in San Antonio and you live in, say, Washington D.C., you have two choices: he/she moves to D.C. or you move to Texas. So you move. You hate Texas, but you love your soulmate. You can just afford to drop everything and move to....Alaska where you just KNOW you'd be happy? Of course not. So you see my point. What would YOU sacrifice to maintain YOUR balance? How heavy are those scales, and how willing are you to tilt them?

The Rant of the Century

I don't know about you, but this century thing has got my slinky all kinked. You know, you go through life remembering to count back one hundred years before deciding what century you call it when talking about history. If it's the 1200's then it's the Thirteenth century. The Seventeenth century is the sixteen hundreds. I mean, what's up with that?Why does every soul on earth, or even to narrow it down to our own country, does every soul have to do this math in his head before speaking about time in centuries?

I have an idea:

The whole process is based on the first one hundred years, right? So we are supposing that years one to one hundred comprise the first century, right? WRONG. I propose that years one through ninety-nine are only The First Ninety-Nine Years, and year one hundred through two hundred is The First Century. This would simplify matters so much. The first century is the one hundreds. The seventeenth century is the seventeen hundreds. No math. No flick of the head, no pausing.

This is good positive stuff here. Think how much better children will do on their history tests and how much less fodder there would be for those evil teachers who like to trick their students in a test by stuffing some confusing century stuff in there. NO MORE!

I believe I will start a recount the centuries movement or some such thing. Re-order the centuries so they make sense. Such a small thing to do for such a huge impact.
Of course all the Trekkies and Star Wars fans will bemoan the fact that this then is the Twentieth century and not yet the Twenty-First century-- not as space advanced sounding. But hey, on the bright side, if we make it to the twenty-first century, just think of all the new space agey toys we'll have then.

Roots

This isn't going to be a long post, nor a rant. Just a spillover from my heart. I see that our new president is doing Town Hall meetings. Wow. I have to say, if our presidents have kept up that good process, that true democratic process that our country was built on, where a true exchange of ideas can take place, we truly would be the greatest country on Earth. Instead we're just the most egocentric country on Earth. But maybe now that can change. Obama promised us change, and I must say, if this is how he starts out, KUDOS to him. I finally have a small glint of hope that one day I will live in a country I can be proud of. Without moving away.

How can it be that former presidents didn't see fit to move in an arena of communication with the people they were sworn to lead and protect? How can it be that there was never any dialogue, any dialectic between him and the people? We can look at what our republic is based on (in part)--the ancient Greek democracy. Didn't the politicos form and attend public meetings on equal footing with their constituents? Wasn't there always a place where an exchange of ideas could take place?
Indeed so. Until now, it seems, we have forgotten the roots of our democracy. The true meaning of a republic. I am put in mind of Mr. Benjamin Franklin's words: As Benjamin Franklin left the Pennsylvania State House after the final meeting of the Constitutional Convention on September 17, 1787, he was approached by the wife of the mayor of Philadelphia. She was curious as to what the new government would be. Franklin replied, “A republic, madam. If you can keep it.”

I am hopeful that President Obama remembers this auspicious time and continues in his vein with Town Meetings and public exchanges of ideas. Perhaps then we can keep our republic.

Racial Profiling is turning us into rats

So, I read this article about how a family, who are Muslim, are heading for Florida for a nice vacation, it's winter, do you blame them? One is an anesthesiologist and another is a lawyer. They live in Alexandria, Virgina. So, they get on the plane in traditional Muslim dress. Begin racial profiling. Their are nine of them, several are children and women, who may not have been on a plane before. (this is my conjuncture) That's right, they're American born, in Detroit. One of them ponders where is the safest place to sit on the plane. What? How DARE a Muslim person get on a plane and ask such a question!! They MUST be terrorists hiding bombs!! Hurry, get the US Marshalls (two of whom just happen to be on the plane). Get the FBI!! So they did. They were asked to deplane, searched - again, found to be, well, a family going on vacation, and asked not to reboard the flight. They had to buy tickets, with the FBI's help, on another plane. Fortunately, or I should say, rightly so, all the other passengers were asked to deplane and re-searched as well. But they got to get back on board, and arrived in Orlando two hours late.

So the question becomes, why do we become overly anxious when someone in traditional Muslim dress gets on a plane with us? The obvious, first answer is, well, 9/11.
But those were fanatics, and not American born. Are all Muslims fanatics? Not any more than if all Christians are fanatics, and let me tell you, there are plenty of those, and just as scary. The second, more scientific answer, as proposed by a dear friend, is that we are pre-programed to go into survival mode when the "Me-not me" scenario exists. We are predisposed to distrust those who are not like ourselves. Okay, I buy this. It's Darwinism, it's scientifically proven. It makes sense. BUT, with that knowledge, can we not attempt to circumvent this primal need when necessary?
Can we not glean more information before we become fearful?

These people made it through the airport screening process just like the other passengers. They were aboard the plane looking for seats. I myself have wondered where is the safest place to sit after watching one of the plethora of movies about planes going down, crashing, and all the horror involved. Is it near the tail? Is that the safest place? Is it near the wing? No, that's the weakest point, they say, the head of the plane? What if it goes down first? These are questions we've all asked ourselves at one point or another when flying. But we weren't wearing head veils and crocheted beanies. (Sorry to any of the Muslim faith reading this, I didn't look up the proper name, forgive)So maybe it comes down to the fact that we don't trust our airport security. Then why trust any passenger? How do you know they don't carry (gulp) the Koran in their pocket? How do we know they are Christian fanatics who deem mankind unclean and ready for extinction? How do we know they are not schizophrenic? How do we know? HOW DO WE KNOW?

I wear a pentacle. In the summer, I wear clothing that is considered "hippy" clothes. I've had people look at me odd, sometimes move away from me, but more often I get asked about my faith, and why I chose it. That usually puts a smile on my face and I am happy to educate, not proselytize. So I wonder, can we not gather our information when faced with this Muslim person who so frightens in the same manner? Would it so offend us? I doubt it would offend him, or her. And this could just be the way to glean whether you're dealing with a fanatic or not. Hot gleam in the eye when he speaks about Islam? Okay, be afraid. Soft smile and soft eye, questioning you as well? Interesting conversation coming up. The bottom line here, kids, is to face your fear before running out the door like George Kostanza (for you Seinfeld junkies) screaming "fire!"

Now, I could go on and on here about how the current leaders of Islam espouse the fanatic side of the faith, and how the Koran, if interpreted this way, says to kill all non-believers. I could go on and on about how the Bible tells us to sacrifice goats and even our children, that sex when not expressly for procreation is an abomination, we should stone our mothers for working on Sunday, we should sell our daughters into slavery, and never touch the skin of a pig. There goes football. No matter how biblical the Baptists are in the south, they'll never give up their SEC football, guaranteed. But I digress.

My heart goes out to all those who are simply trying to follow their religion in peace, in PEACE, and are subject to human ignorance because of it. But the beat goes on. So what do we do to end racial profiling? I don't have the answer, but I do know this:
You'll never get an answer if you stop asking the question.

Imagination versus Fatheads

So I watched the movie "Wanted" with Angelina Jolie, a nice sort of sci-fi piece with good special effects and decent acting. It filled exactly the bill I had been wanting to fill--give me some entertainment, don't make me think to much, show me something big, unreal, unusual, possibly impossible. And I was pleased. To a point. No, it wasn't the movie that disappointed, but the reaction from those I watched it with.

When a bullet shot from a gun (the scene in the trailers) passed around Angelina's head, the comment was made aloud, "Right, a curving bullet. How does that happen? Physics doesn't allow for that."

The movie was then paused while I went on a mini tirade:
THIS is a MOVIE, NOT a documentary. IT IS FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY. There are no textbooks involved, there will be no tests afterward. No, bullets can't, as far as I know, curve around a target only to hit the more desirable one behind it. But they can in Hollywood films, which is why I CHOSE to watch the movie. Had I wanted to watch a show on the trajectory of bullets and the ballistics of such, I would have tuned into the Discovery Channel, or some such trope.

Yes, I made a scene. I took my toys and went home. Actually, I ejected the movie from the living room surround sound system and went into my bedroom to watch the rest of it on my bedroom TV.

Soon, the other party, I found while going to the kitchen to make a drink, was researching "can you actually curve a bullet around a target?" I was floored. Aghast. Does no one understand the concept of imagination anymore? So I leaned in, and looked at the blog response on the website "Digg" that they were reading. The blogger, bigwhip, (that should tell me something right there) suggested:

"Anyone who believes you can curve a bullet is an idiot and needs to review simple physics. Every time I see the preview for the movie "wanted" and hear that line it makes me cringe with anger. It's things from hollywood like this that makes Americans look like idiots to the rest of the world." Posted on Digg.com 12/01/08.

This told me all I needed to know to make my point; we cannot always be glued to Lou Dobbs or some comparable show of rhetorical political doomsaying. Yes, we are in a crisis. Yes, the ice caps are melting. Yes, there is a cholera outbreak in Zimbabwe, and yes, oh gods yes, the American economy is in the worst trouble it's ever seen. The solution, for the immediate moment? Entertainment. Just take a freakin couple hours and entertain yourselves. Let bullets curve around their targets in order to hit the real one standing behind. Let superheroes come back, even if they're worn and used and tired. So here is what I, in my indignant celebration of the blessed absurd, said to our poor Mr. bigwhip:

"Actually, it's blogs like this that makes Americans look like idiots to the rest of the world. Why, you ask? Because people with imaginations, people who actually enjoy a good sci-fi show don't bother to ask the question, "duh, gee, George, can that really happen?' No, my furry tongued friend, it's called entertainment. Much like our theatrical heroes James Bond and The Green Hornet, or for those of you who might be more plebeian and simply enjoy Batman for the enjoyment of the improbable, much less impossible, we revel in the pure enjoyment of what might actually be held in the ethereal realms of imagination.
I do feel sorry for you, though, you poor little "Bigwhip," for it appears that you have been deprived in your childhood of such fantastical ideas that young boys named Peter Pan can live forever in Never-Never Land, or that Robinson Crusoe never existed except for in the minds of bright eyed children who couldn't wait to read the next chapter to find out if he and Friday were ever saved. Lord (or Darwin, as you might prefer) help us all that Walt Disney came about and *cough, sputter* actually suggested that such a thing as fairies might exist, if only in our fertile imaginations for a while. Tsk, tsk.
So,yes, bigwhip, get angry, get very angry indeed that such a suggestion as a bullet curving in a science FICTION movie might make the public actually believe that physics can be disrupted. Stomp your foot! Scream to the rapidly imploding universe! For how DARE we make such suggestions in film that such things like curved bullets in flight might take place in....in... Hollywood. Shame on Ian Fleming for suggesting there lived a James Bond!! You're absolutely right, we should cringe every time we see the trailer for "Wanted." We should cringe that imagination in overblown couch potatoes like you is left to rot and fester on the idea that you might know something more than the people who create films for the general public's entertainment. In fact, you might enjoy this idea, that we have become an Image Nation, instead of using our imaginations. I suppose you gave all your Dr.Seuss books away at once, never cracking a cover. Mine, however were all cracked, the covers worn with overuse, the bindings all but gone. And what have I become? A fiction writer with a Master of Fine Arts Degree. Figures, you say." And Amen and Amen I say to the writers, the playwrights, the screenwriters, and all those who keep their imaginations well fed and charging ahead. This, this is what makes our country, if not great, at least tolerable, and on top. Now, go read a book or go to the movies, the more absurd the better.

Random Rant

The law is so fucked up these days, it's all about who knows who, politics, and money. The common man be damned. It's not like you see on television, where lawyers work through police corruption and less than reputal colleagues only to prevail with justice's flag waving. Why do we only see it on TV? Because it's FANTASY. That's right. Fantasy. Why do we watch TV anyway? Oh, yeah, to see fantasy. Right, so now we like REALITY SHOWS. We want to see reality. But you know what kind of reality shows you don't see? Law. Trials. The legal process. You know why? Because they know you believe the fantasy and they don't want you to know the reality, because it would put them out of business. Protect and Serve? Nah uh. Buy and Sell. That's the reality. Can you afford the law? That's the real question. Can you afford to buy a judge, or can you afford to do the time. No middle ground.
If you think there is a middle ground, it's an island. And the water is rising.