PantsParty

18 (or so) Questions I Have After Seeing the Last Harry Potter Movie

2011-07-20T06:54:00.000-07:00

1. How is it that Hermione didn't end up as a professor at Hogwarts? It seems right up her alley.
1b. In fact why are none of them employed at the school?
1c. The "greatest wizard in the world" isn't a shoe-in for the Headmaster job? (Or at least Defense Against the Dark Arts?)
1d. If they don't work at the wizard school, what do all these witches and wizards do when there isn't a war on? Are they all baristas and bookstore clerks?
2. So, Snape is Harry's real dad?
3. Also, isn't it a bit convenient that the bad guy's right-hand-man has dedicated his life to protecting the hero?
4. Why didn't Harry die when Voldemort shot him with his wand-laser?
5. If you can just "decide" that you don't want to be dead and come back, why isn't everyone doing it?
5b. I mean, if the most powerful evil wizard kills you, shouldn't you stay dead?
5c. If not, how is he really SO powerful? (Assuming he wasn't using the "Only-kill-the-little-bit-of-me-that-is-inside-this-boy" spell--which, who would even practice that enough to know it well just in case it came in handy?)
6. What's with all the running, wizards can fly, right? (I'd be the laziest wizard ever...)
7. Can wizards get drunk? (I just see "19 Years Later" Ron sitting at a bar a little shitty waving a wand around yelling "Expectum Coronas!")
8. Ron really let himself go, didn't he?
9. Did Malfoy end up being kind of a good guy, or just not a very good bad guy?
10. There were owls at the end of the movie. I thought they killed all the magic owls in DHP1, didn't they?
11. Shouldn't the last movie have been called Neville Longbottom and the Time He Saved Everyone's Asses?
12. Is there a wizard college, because there is no way you're getting through Cambridge just knowing spells and enchantments? You've got to know some math and composition and stuff, right?
12b. Or can wizards just "wand-whip" themselves up a diploma so they can get a job in the private sector?
13. If Dumbledore had possession of all the things that made up the "Deathly Hallows" does that mean that he is Death?
13b. If he is not, how did he get them away from Death?
14. It was obvious to everybody that the other Dumbledore brother was still Michael Gambon, right?
15. Why don't we think it is weird that both girls who played Nanny McPhee are in this movie?
16. Are all British movies not directed by Guy Richie (And hey, some that are directed by him...) about magic now?
13c. (I forgot something) Couldn't Dumbledore have figured out a way to get all this done without having to die? It just doesn't seem that bright, is all.
13d. (sorry for encroaching like this #16) Like, what about just giving the wand and all the other junk to Harry, and telling him where all the stuff was to destroy?
17. I'll bet Voldemort snores a ton, on account of the messed up nose, wouldn't you think?
18. Why don't they mention the Potters' other son who is going off to school at the end of the movie?
18b. At what age do kids go off to Hogwarts, again?
18c. Because I thought it was like age 10 or 13 or something, but that means that Harry and Jenny waited almost a decade to start having kids...what were they doing all that time? (Which brings up a whole slew of questions about wizard procreation that I'm not even going to get into, because I had a tough enough time with the details of "The Golden Compass" to even mess with this.

Alright, those are the questions I can think of now, so please let me know if you are able to answer some or all of them. K THX BYE.

-A.R. Leith

AMIRITE!?

2011-06-10T04:45:00.000-07:00

Okay, I just wanted to get this off my chest (and I wanted to start writing again, so lookout birds, right!?).

Yesterday evening, I came across an article while checking news feeds and found something interesting/disturbing. But maybe not disturbing for the same reasons it disturbs you or, apparently, others. (Here is a link to the article: Tracy Morgan via Metafilter)

Here's the deal: This guy says some stuff in his comedy routine that other people find offensive. Was it outlandish? Yes. Was it provocative? You bet. Was it true? Who knows. Foolish? Absolutely! The bottom line is that it was in a COMEDY ROUTINE, so we don't even really know if he meant it. On top of that, it was his opinion, so who is anybody else to say he cannot hold it.

The reason I am peeved about the whole thing is that after he said it some political action group starts calling for him to be fired for his other job because of the opinion he expressed. My question is this: Is it not within every Americans' right to hold--and even express--whatever opinion they choose? I was under the impression (mostly because of social studies class) that being able to think and express whatever silly thing you wanted was one of the great freedoms of this country. There are people out there who believe that all thought and speech should conform to the sensibilities of what most people want. These are the people who would have you punished either legally or financially for disagreeing with them. I believe these people to be small-minded bigots.

When it comes down to it, I guess the question I think we should be asking about this is: What if a person could get fired from a job every time they said something that someone else disagreed with--at any time and anywhere, not just while they were at that job? What would happen to unemployment rates in this country? Should I start calling for people, like those trying to punish a comedian for stating an opinion, to be deported to a country where they can enforce their will on others because I do not agree with what they are saying? According to the logic they seem to be using, if they are using any at all, I get to call for them to face hardships if they say something that I disagree with.

That is not what I am going to do, because I believe in a free America. Even if a truly free United States is just a concept that has probably never been truly realized, I can still hope that someday we will make it a real place to live, right?

-A. Leith

p.s.- USA! USA! USA!

Lobbying Against Lobbyists.

2008-10-27T16:06:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I was driving home from school today, and wound up listening to the umpteenth radio ad urging me to vote NO on Amendment 58 this election year in Colorado. WTF?

First, these ads are unbelievably smarmy and condescending--so much so that I actually wrote the people behind them a strongly worded e-mail to ask them to knock it off, and to let them know that no matter how intelligent their ideas may be, talking to me like you're my best buddy and I'm special are no way to garner my favor. At any rate, I went through the amendments myself this morning, in order to get a grasp on what I will actually be voting for a week from tomorrow. While I was doing this, these advertisements failed to enter my head. I made my decisions based on what I thought was best for me (first) and the state (second). So, as I happened to hear these two upper-class twits blathering on on the radio this afternoon I had my newly created cheat sheet in my pocket. It turns out that I [as a wildly opinionated and misanthropic individual] had decided that I was, in fact, in favor of the Amendment that they so maligned. Whaddya know?!

At any rate, I thought it was worth a second glance, since they seemed so intent on stopping this measure. Sure enough, when I got home and re-read the proposed amendment I knew exactly why it was opposed and by whom. (For those unfamiliar: this amendment proposes to cut tax credits to companies that are removing non-renewable resources from Colorado--imagine the gall of the government for making companies pay FULL taxes--and directing any new tax revenue from this change into schools and infrastructure.) So, the first light that went off in my head this afternoon whilst I was grumping about having to hear this ad again was, I suppose that if they are trying this hard, and using good ol' folksy talkin', that they must be fighting against something that makes a decent amount of sense for the common man. And sure enough, the only people who would truly suffer would be the energy people who are making a killing right now anyway. Boo-hoo for them.

Of course, these ads make sure to frame the argument that those increased taxes would be passed back through to the consumer in the form of higher prices.

Which is probably so.

However, and this is my favorite part--and coincidentally one of my platforms for my upcoming campaign, consumers have the right to choose who they buy things from. This, ultimately, is the beauty of a free market. Am I going to keep buying a product from a company who keeps raising their prices to maintain record profits? I sure don't plan on it. I hope you don't either. The long and the short of it is, if we are to maintain a self-regulated economy we have to stop supporting businesses that keep sticking it to us. If you know a company is sending all of its money overseas to pay someone less than they would pay an American to do the job, while still making a hefty profit for their executives, don't give them any more of your American Dollars. One of two things will happen:

1. They will man up and bring back jobs and help the economy of the country where they are based, or;
2. They will become a Mexican [or Vietnamese, Chilean, Korean] company that is going to have a lot of trouble getting back their U.S. market-share.

The choice will be theirs, and I hope that they will make the right one by 'Merica. Which reminds me, I would also label those companies, and the people in charge of them, as extremely un-patriotic. They don't give a crap about you. So make them pay for it. There is nothing more American than sticking it to the man purely for revenge. Hell, there is an entire movie genre based on it. (Here I would be referring to the screwball/underdog comedy; e.g. Revenge of the Nerds, Meatballs, etc.)

I guess the general thrust [which, by the way, would be an awesome name for a character in a space-themed adult film] of my argument here is that you should consider what motives someone might have for trying to get you to vote one way or the other. As far as I'm concerned, the more someone has to try and convince you that something is the right way to think, the less likely it is to be the right way to think. Trust your gut to cut through the B.S. before you even have a chance to mull something over. The trick is to know when you are through the B.S. and down to what you truly believe, not what you think you should think, or have been told to think.

-A.R. Leith

Suggested reading to accompany this blog entry: Civil Disobedience by Thoreau, Self Reliance by Emerson, The Colorado 2008 Ballot Information Packet (for those of you who live here), and Naked Pictures of Famous People by Jon Stewart (Not because it has anything to do with this, just because it's incredibly funny.)

Quote: "Fat, drunk and stupid is no way to go through life, son." - Dean Wormer

My Autobiography

2008-10-23T09:49:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I've decided to write the story of my life. I'm not sure if I should just do it in installments, or if it would be better to just time it's publication with my death. The limits of that are obviously many and varied. It would be hard for me to estimate properly when I might die...which would lead to procrastination. Then, when death is almost certain, what if I don't feel up to remembering and writing a bunch of rubbish about my life. Surely that would be a loss for society as a whole--what, with the presidency in there and all.

At any rate, I'm going to get writing, and I will also try to publish serially, like they did in the old days. So, if anyone has any connections out there as to where I might publish such a story in chapters, or as a whole, please let me know. I think this is going to be fun. And difficult. My forearms are already starting to cramp.

-A.R. Leith

Quote: "There's nothing quite like knowing exactly what's inside your heart."- MxPx

Hey, Chicago, Whaddya Say?

2008-10-01T11:15:00.001-07:00

So, as of last night the hopes and dreams of an El series are still alive and well. Both of Chicago's baseball squadrons are into the post-season. This is awesome. It's going to be tough. I will have absolutely nothing to do with it other than television ratings and accelerating my "number of Old Styles in a sitting" record into the stratosphere. Which, also will be tough.

On that note, anyone who is interested, and a Cubs fan, and in Durango, should go to Falconburg's to watch the game tonight. It'll be wicked pissa.

-A.R. Leith

"I'd love my job if it weren't for the customers."- Clerks

On My Impending Election as President (U.S., 2016)

2008-09-30T08:21:00.000-07:00

Look, I've got some views. Some people may agree with them, some may not. That, I suppose, is the nature of free will in the modern era.

At any rate, I will be putting my hat in the ring as a presidential candidate for the first election after I have reached the minimum age requirement. So...you should vote for me. I have some very interesting requests for cabinet position appointments, and I am considering each of them carefully. More importantly, however, I have two candidates for the position of public relations and marketing director for my campaign. On that subject, I can say only this...One of these people will get my campaign, and the other will be responsible for the presidency. I will not tell you which yet. I will tell you the two slogans they have proposed, though:

"Unleith the Fury!"

and

"Leith it to Me!"

If you can guess which will get me elected, and which I will use as an officiate, kudos to you. You should pat yourself on the back, get a warm cookie, and drink some milk. If you can't figure it out--vote for me anyway. I promise you things will be the most fun ever if I am elected. I will get vending machines for the cafeteria, and longer lunch brea...wait, that's the wrong campaign. I'm still new at this.

In only moderately un-related news, you might be able to tell that I have started posting here again after a nearly two-year hiatus. This is because I was--let's face it--lazy. Partially too lazy to type up new entries (partially too busy as well), but mostly since this thingy was taken over by Google I was concerned that I would have to sign up for a gmail account just to access my blog, and I definitely already have too many e-mail accounts, so I did not want to do that. However, with further investigation, I found that I just needed to verify my old information so that the G men would let me back on to this site to babble, complain, gripe, type, and hopefully otherwise entertain people. So, here I am, tell your friends. If you like reading it, I'll type more. If you do not, don't read it (But tell other people you read it and loved it, so they can decide for themselves. They may no longer trust your taste, but theirs will be an informed hatred.)

Okay, I think that's all for now, and it feels good. Sorry, if you liked these entries and had been cut off I hope it wasn't too big a deal. I can't imagine that it was. Also, I'm going to try to make this site more entertaining and colorful, if I can ever figure out how to include stuff, or what to include. But I'm working on it.

-A.R. Leith

"I know what I wanna say, but I can't get it out..."- The Lawrence Arms

Sharing is Fun.

2006-10-04T21:03:00.000-07:00

There has been a thought on my mind this evening, and I just wanted to share it with everyone. It's by no means original, but at the same time it makes me smile. Maybe it will make you smile too...

Why is it that women can show a bunch of cleavage, but it is socially unacceptable for the gentlemen to show a little neck?

Just think about it.

-A.R. Leith

Mammas, don't let your babies grow up to be lifties.

2006-09-27T15:14:00.000-07:00

I just wanted to touch on the two thoughts that were really running through my head this morning on the way to work. First, has any one of you read much of J.D. Salinger. I am in the midst of finishing up his story "Seymour, an Introduction" and could not be happier that--through all my procrastination and distraction by shiny objects--I have finally gotten around to this gem. Now, when I say "gem" I am not referring to it as one of those blockbuster, turn your life around, stories. Rather, it is exactly the kind of rambling, go nowhere, story that I can someday see myself actually writing.

Ostensibly, this is the opening chapter to a man's story about his deceased brother. However, in the offing there are so many tangents and digressions that the author is able to cover a great deal of literary ground. It is a story about family, brothers, child-stardom, intelligence, and a great many other things. Beyond that it is the scattered nature of the writing that makes it so endearing to me. If you are at all interested in reading books of any sort, I would highly recommend this one.

Also, this morning, I got stuck in the variety of construction traffic where there is person at the beginning of the work area with a sign on a stick. This is not at all a completely surprising occurrence. When one lives in a semi-rural community where two lane highways are the norm one gets used to such things. Actually being stuck was not the problem for me today. The problem centered around what to do with your eyes when you are the first car in line. As I was passing the people stopped and waiting to head in the other direction I noticed that the lead vehicle in the line was occupied by a gentleman reading a newspaper. I thought this to be an ingenious and convenient solution to staring at the flagger with the sign--which is where my eyes are invariably drawn. Honestly, you can only half-smile so many times at a person who is destined to solitude while spinning their little sign all day. After a while you just want to settle into that solid far-off stare that lets the time simply drift away when you are in such a situation. But that is just not possible when you are confronted by the eyes of the person in whose hands the rest of your day squarely rests. Who is to argue if they just never turn their sign around? What's to stop you from having to sit there all day? It's a thin line between fake-nice-through-the-windshield and sitting in your idling car for hours on end.

A secondary thought comes to me, as I type. What is up with the over-exagerated arm gestures these people give you once they do let you go? They wave their arm out and around themselves in an broad arc and point you to the lane you are supposed to be in. Is this for the people who, after having shut down their brains for the wait, might have forgotten that you are not supposed to drive over the person in the bright orange vest? Or, perhaps, it is for the individual who upon getting the little orange "slow" sign after having stared at the "stop" side for too long will floor it into the line of oncoming traffic waiting their turn. I don't know, maybe they are just worried about their cones. People could steal the cones! I would never do such a thing. You're going to have to trust me on that, because I have lost the keys to the trunk of my car.

-A.R. Leith

Quote: "The world needs ditch-diggers too, Danny." -Judge Smails

Whelp, it's finally here.

2006-09-21T08:06:00.000-07:00

Upon arriving to work today I was pleasantly surprised to find about three inches of fresh snow on the stairs leading up to my office. There is something about the light of morning when there is snow on the ground that is of a different quality than your average sunny day. The whole day has a sense of freshness about it and, even without looking out a window, you can tell that everything is a little bit more like winter somehow. It is one of my most favorite feelings at one of the best times of the year. Okay, I just wanted to share that little bit of info with everyone, wish you all a happy upcoming winter, and get my day started off right. I am sorry for waxing poetic, or nostalgic, or waxing at all really. I don't much like to get all waxy, but sometimes it happens. I hope to see everyone who is able on the pub crawl tomorrow night. Cheers.

-A.R. Leith

What are you eating under there?

2006-09-02T14:27:00.000-07:00

If you said “under where?” then, HA HA! If not, why not?

Okay, I am going to jump right into this one, because it is going to be a doozy. There have been some things floating around of late (And by ‘of late’ I mean ‘for the last several years’.) where people are continually sounding off on what they believe in, or don’t believe in, or don’t believe that other people should believe in. Anyway I would like to address some of these issues today, because, frankly, I read a post on this ‘mispace’—that’s the Spanish language version of myspace—that made me physically uncomfortable and sick to my stomach. It wasn’t that it was gross or in particularly poor taste, so much as it was mean and ignorant. And I know everyone out there knows what I am talking about when I say that I am the sensitive type who is easily upset.

Anyway, this post brought to my attention that there was a group on myspace that, well, it is called “Fuck the Troops” which unless it is meant in the strictest sense of raising morale by fornicating with those in uniform is probably in pretty bad taste. Personally, I am not against the troops as people. I definitely do not agree with some/many of the things that they do, but to each his own. After all, this is America, we can do whatever we want.

The post I received was a petition to have the group kicked out of the myspace community. Sort of a NIMBY for the internet. Now, I am all for speaking out against something if you don’t believe in it (especially since that is what I am about to do when I’m done rambling here) but there are tactful ways to go about it. The petition in question is, at times, tactful and touching while at other times it is gut wrenchingly blind and hateful. There are, the simple statements of, “I know/love/am family with someone in the military and wish them the best.” which are wonderful sentiments and cannot be argued against. Those make me feel nice. The signatures—and their attached notes—that I feel I must discuss in more detail are far less sentimental and more directly offensive. My plan is to run through some of the sillier ones and talk about what they made me feel. (Anyone afraid of talking about feelings should look away now…this means you br@nt.)

I would also like to mention that, before embarking on this little rant, I tried to find the offending “fuck the troops” group on myspace and was unsuccessful, which leads me to believe that it actually has already been removed, or that many of the people who signed the petition were simply reacting to what they were told, rather than the group itself.

(Because this whole thing is a little long—not to mention high and mighty—I am going to break it down into a few sections. This should give you a chance to stretch, rub your eyes, decide that you don’t want to read any further, or get a nice snack. Like some Chicken ‘n a Biscuit, or a Yoohoo. But I do hope you keep reading…)

The Doozy (Pt. 2)

2006-09-02T14:26:00.000-07:00

The first entry to be covered came at #37 on the petition from a Patrick Madrid, who wrote,
“(empty space is for anyone brave enough to sit inside a fox whole for two days and still have the nerve to talk some shit. our soldiers is the last thing sane we have left of our political bullshit gov. it's not our soldiers we should be mad at. it's the fuckin millionaires we vote in to run our government. we as soldiers just do our jobs. protecting some tree huggin pussy who'd much rather cry than to stand up for himself. if they still fill the same afterwards they can move to Bagdad and i'll pay for the flight--- fuckin cowards)”
Spelling errors aside, there are some problems with this statement. In my opinion one need not be “tree hugging” to be against military action in a foreign land. You may love trees and all, but they are two different animals. I also wonder if he would actually pay for my flight over there—if you could get one—should I be able to contact him. However, the biggest problem I see in his argument is that he seeks to separate the soldiers from the “fucking millionaires we vote in to run our government.” But to me it is all the same boat. They all work for the government…the only difference being that I don’t get to vote on who is in the military.

Jumping down the list to number 102 there comes another question in my mind. (I also can’t help but notice the open hostility in many of the notes attached to this petition. I’m not psychologist, but I have to think that there is some link between this and the type of person that joins/completely backs the military. But one must keep in mind that they have been affronted by a group that is themselves being offensive and aggressive.) So anyway, Dillon, at 102 writes,
“These people need to be eliminated, the men and women of our armed forces are the only reason why there is myspace right now!!! If it wasnt for our soldiers keeping us safe god only knows where we would be!!!”
I just feel that it bears mentioning that our soldiers haven’t really been keeping us all that safe of late. Going overseas and basically staging a coup on a foreign government that doesn’t seem to have had the inclination or capability to pose an actual threat to us I suppose keeps us kind of safe. Either that or it just enrages an entire region of the world at our intrusion. The last time that our government/military actually needed to keep us safe was almost five years ago, and the only heroes that came out of that were those that were brave after the fact, those that limited the loss of life as best they could, and we should thank them for their efforts. The military, however, did very little to protect the people from that attack. The last time that our troops actually kept us safe from an outside attack was before the second world war. Our troops, regardless of who’s orders it was on, have long since been too busy in the political game to be at home when needed, which is not a happy or comforting thought.

Within the petition there are glimmers of hope, like 119,
“Stephanie Curry ~ sister of an airman ~ don't hate the troops.. hate the president who sent them where they do not belong.. some military personel joined for reasons other than wanting to defend our country from terrorist we armed!”
It is [I hope] a well known fact that military recruiters target young and under-privliged people, with the promise of funds or a way out of their current situation. In fact, most of the people that I know who joined up did so because they needed money, or wanted to have their college paid for. However, there is a certain expectation and culpability that come with signing up for the military.

One noticeable thing amid all the name-calling and finger-pointing is the idea that somehow the troops currently fighting in the Middle East and elsewhere are protecting more than our country’s financial interests. There is a lot of, “God Bless all the men and women who are fighting to keep our country safe.”, “God bless all of you who are willing to put your lives on the line for our country.”, and so on, that give me the distinct impression that people think that our country is in actual danger—possibly a danger that is not the result of out involvement in foreign lands.

The Doozy (Pt. 3)

2006-09-02T14:23:00.000-07:00

At long last, at number 309 someone has put forth the most confounding argument that also seems to be an underpinning of why this petition exists at all. And argument so insulting to the intelligence of readers that it hurts a little just to think about it. Zach Sepulveda wrote,
“they really should be removed since the only reason they are allowed to say that is because we provide them with the freedom and liberties they possess…If it wasn't for soldiers, we'd be part of England still, the French would be speaking German, along with the majority of European Nations, and slew of other "saved by soldiers, sailors and airmen" history lessons you might have heard of”
This one is going to take me a couple of paragraphs to unravel.

At the very beginning of his statement—within one sentence amazingly enough—Zach states that the people whose rights are protected by the fighting men and women should be taken away because they don’t deserve them. Apparently the rights and liberties protected by the military are reserved only for those who agree with everything said or done by the government/military. In essence, freedom of speech does not belong to all Americans, simply for being American, but only to those willing to kill for it.

The second part of the statement is more forgivable, although still fairly ignorant of global relations and world history. First statement, “If it wasn't for soldiers, we'd be part of England still…” Which is actually right on the money and I wouldn’t argue against it if I could. The only problem being that our current foreign policy seems to have no interest in letting people of other nations—let’s just say, Iraq, for a convenient example—create their own revolutions and prosperous futures. Instead we do all the ‘dirty work’ for them and then foist upon them a governmental system that they do not seem to want or enjoy. Plain and simple our government is using young American men and women to protect oil and other industrial interests in the middle east, which is fine if you can get behind it. All I ask is that you recognize your part in it. However, the whole ordeal robs the people of smaller countries the opportunity to create a system that is right for them in their own time, organically, and domestically. Basically it comes down to the adage, “Give a man a fish, he eats for a day. Teach a man to fish, and he will never go hungry.” We are giving away fish by the truckload, but not offering any help in others getting their own fish.

Second statement, “the French would be speaking German, along with the majority of European Nations…” This one may be true, barring, of course, that anything in the above paragraph didn’t happen between then and now. However, on a much broader scale one could argue that the only thing accomplished in stopping the German conquering of Europe is that the U.S. and its allies recognized that two wrongs do not make a right. Because the same sentence, with a few changes makes the same amount of sense, “If it weren’t for soldiers…the Navajo would still be speaking Navajo [on their native soil], along with the majority of Native American Nations.” The fact on this one is that Hitler’s rhetoric at the beginning of World War II was frighteningly similar to the idea of “Manifest Destiny” here in America that was used to control, coerce, and all but eliminate the native people of this land. I am not, by any means, defending either practice, just pointing out that sometimes things are done that seem alright at the time, but later turn out to have been a horrible bit of gaffery.

The final statement, “history lessons you might have heard of.” Yeah, I think I’ve heard something about them, here and there. All in all, however it is kind of hypocritical to ask others to support you in the taking away of other’s rights that you have ostensibly been fighting to protect. Is it not?

The Doozy (Pt. 4)

2006-09-02T14:16:00.000-07:00

Number 340 brings us to the top of the Bass Ackwards category in the entries. Written by someone named Andi (no relation) it says,
“I appreciate all that the military does for us b/c I could never do that kind of a job. I am a wuss! Not everyone will agree as to why our troops are in Iraq but that doesn't matter. The point is, they are there! Support what they do anyway! They didn't volunteer to go over there!”
Ummmm, yah, they actually did volunteer to go over there. While there may still be a draft board, there is not, as far as I know, a draft anymore. Therefore, anyone who is in the military had to sign up for the job or ‘volunteer’, to be there.

As far as the rest of her statement is concerned it is all a little baffling. The fact that you would never do that kind of job because you are “a wuss” pretty much means that you do not believe in what is going on enough to actually fight for it, making you a conscientious objector. (Maybe not by the military’s definition of it, but still…) However, asking me to “support them anyway” just doesn’t make sense at all, because I do not support them in what they are doing, because I don’t agree with it. That’s like saying, I don’t agree with people killing baby seals, but they are doing it, so they deserve our support. It is counterproductive. It DOES matter whether or not we agree with why our troops are in Iraq. Not only does it matter whether or not we agree, but it matters that, by there presence and participation, the soldiers also agree, either explicitly or implicitly with what they are doing there. For them to say otherwise is a bullshit cop-out.

The fact is that it is voluntary. Being in the military is a job that you have to sign up for. Whether you agree with what goes on or not, you chose to be there. I have friends in the military, but I hope that they knew what they were getting into when they signed up. For anyone who doesn’t then they are truly ‘just doing their job’ much like a much maligned military of the past who just followed orders—probably after having responded to an ad offering to “show them the real Europe”—but whatever. The point here is that the military is a job. You sign up for it, you perform duties, they pay you for it. And like any other job, you know what you are getting into. You have to ask yourself, do I really want to do that in exchange for money? For example, if someone says to you, “Hey I have a little shop on the edge of town where we make soap out of human fat that we render after killing bad people.” you have some options at that point. You can say either A: “No, that is gross and illegal, I am calling the cops.” B: “I’ll have to think about it.” or C: “How much does it pay?”

All in all you have options. Going into the military is much the same deal. You have to know going in that you may be asked to kill someone. You have to know that you may be killed yourself. You have to know about collateral damage. All of that goes into your decision to do what you do. The way the military stays staffed is that everyone has their price. You are either in it for the money, or you truly believe in the ideals. Either way there can be no separation between the government and the soldiers. Because, by signing up for military service, you are agreeing to do whatever they send you to do, be it fighting in Iraq, Iran, or wherever the next hot zone happens to be.

I am concerned about people who say they support the troops but not Bush, or the government, or whatever, because it seems to me they are just trying to place the blame anywhere but on themselves, their friends, or their family. Those in the military, i.e. the troops, have entered into an agreement to do—for better or for worse—what Bush and the government decide they want them to do. If they truly disagreed with what they were doing, or where they had to do it, they wouldn’t sign up in the first place, would they?

I know that all of this seems cranky and long-winded, and for that I am sorry. All I really want is for people to examine the world around them more closely, think before they act and speak, and most of all, take responsibility for your actions. But above all I want everyone to remember that all of this—everything I have said, everything I have quoted, and everything said by anybody in the group that dislikes the troops—is only a collection of words. Something to be pondered, considered, rejected, or accepted. And for those of you who have made it this far, I thank you for considering what I have had to say. Take what you like from it, dismiss the rest, but above all form your own opinion. Think for yourself. Follow what you truly believe in your head and your heart and you will never be wrong. Because in the end, we’re—every one of us--just different, that’s all.

Kids are Dumb

2006-08-30T20:26:00.000-07:00

It is hard to know what goes through one's mind during the course of a normal day. I suppose that there are some who know me that have an idea of what is going on in there, but I am sure that those people are also often surprised by what actually comes out of my mouth. Such is life, I suppose. However, this evening something particularly strange floated through my addled little brain.

For some reason I remembered, completely out of the blue, a story that my Grandma Glenna once told me. We were in the bedroom of her condo down in Hillsboro, FL (I lived down that way at the time too) going through photo albums or something. Now, I might add here that I loved going to grandma and grandpa's house for four distinct reasons. 1. They lived on the beach and had a pool, which was rad. 2. Grandma always made split-pea soup, which I adore. 3. Grandpa was totally into stained glass making, and therefore had scads of little, colored, glass beads around the house that we could play with and arrange. (It occurs to me on this little trip down memory lane that I probably swallowed at least one of those little devils in my adventures.) 4. The condo had long shag carpeting that you could rake with the special indoor rakes that they had there. It was all very soothing, in the manner of those rock gardens that the people in Asia seem so fond of.

Anyway, we were in this bedroom and looking at pictures and stuff. Because I was really young, as you shall see, and because such things have no-doubt been pushed out of my head because I now know things like the given names of all the primary characters on Saved By the Bell. It's a curse. So, Grandma starts to tell me that Grandpa was on a ship during the war. (At leas I think that's what the story was about.) But here I am, all of five, or seven, or something and I have very little idea of what is going on. Grandma says "ship" and I automatically think of a space-shuttle. So I ask her if Grandpa got to drive the ship. She told me that he did not drive and was down in the belly of the ship.

Now, here is the shitty part. I was little, I barely knew what was going on in the world to say that I did not like potato salad, but Grandma was trying to be nice to me and trying to share a little family history. But all I can think of is that, even though he probably performed a vital function on the ship he did not drive, and Grandpa would have been a lot cooler if he did.

I guess the point of all of this is that one half of the people in that conversation was trying to make a genuine connection with her grandchild. For my part I was only thinking that people who drive big things are rad. (I probably even said rad at the time, because that was the era.) Maybe it is because kids really don't know better*, and maybe because Grandma's story would have been better shared when I was a little older, but that story was wasted on me until this evening when I thought about it. It is only now that I actually want to get into the meat of that story. I am sure I could talk to my dad or uncle and get the bare-bones info on the story, but it would be so much more meaningful if it came from the wife, who was alive and going through the emotions at the time. Sadly, that is no longer possible.

All of this kind of makes me worry about kids, because there is such a range of mental activity in them. One can't help but wonder what is different about the upbringings of different five year olds that let some spout fully formed and logical sentence, while others can only cry for their woobies and wet themselves. I'm sure I don't know, but it makes me wonder.

*All of this talking about how dumb little kids are has reminded me of a story run in the Onion that made me laugh to no end. It was about how some university had done tests to find out which species had the dumbest children. Some of the test included, leaving the young animals out in a thunder shower to see which would have the sense to come in, poking the young with sticks to see which would defend themselves or flee, and various others. It turns out that the only species who's young have no sense at all are those of humans.

-A.R. Leith

Quote: "Just when the world seems so understanding, it knocks you over with a solid left hook." -The Dillinger Four

I want a Slurpee

2006-08-30T12:23:00.000-07:00

Real bad.

There is no way I'm going to let some Lezbos beat up my lady!

2006-08-26T21:56:00.000-07:00

Good evening.

There are three things on my mind tonight that I want to unburden here in the written word. I do not necessarily want to get them off my mind, but I do want to put them out there so that I can move on, and work on them further. I figured that sometimes people get bored and want something to do, so I will share these thoughts with you, if you care to read them. (Actually, make that four things--now that I think about it.) I feel it only polite to forewarn whomever is reading this, however, that I have no intention of making this brief. This will be as long-winded as it need be for me to actually cover what I feel needs exposure here today. If you don't have the time or inclination to read all of it right now I will, by all means, understand. I just ask that once you have started it you will hear me out, for better or worse, at some point.

Okay, enough preamble and dilly-dallying, let's get right to the meat of the matter, shall we?

1. Marathons
Today I made my way to the nearby city of Silvertown, CO to watch as several of my friends competed in the annual Silvertown Alpine Marathon. I would like to state publicly here that I cannot even imagine the motivation necessary to run in a marathon, let alone one that takes you above 10,000 feet on two separate occasions within the course of it's running. What was most confounding to me was the casual attitudes of a great many of the runners as they finished the race. Granted it was a small and not uber-competitive (at least from what I could tell) field, but a good many of the people traipsing across the finish line began to hold immediate and seemingly casual conversations with friends and race coordinators. I also feel that it is worth noting that of my four friends in the race only one of them did not immediately request a beer upon crossing the line--and of the other three one of them did not wait even to cross the line before bellowing a request for the cold and foamy refreshment.

Everyone was rather chipper upon completion of their morning task. Having just run some twenty-six (26) miles one would have thought that there would have been a great deal more exhaustion and delirium among the ranks. I suppose my expectations were born of hearing stories from my mother and sister who have fairly regularly volunteered to help out at the Chicago Marathon over the years. With tales of involuntary bowel releases, voluntary bladder releases, vomitous and passing out, I expected the runners I saw today to be much more haggard than they turned out to be. I, on the other hand, cannot stand to run for even five minutes let alone the five or so hours that these people had run. It was all very impressive and I want to here congratulate them all on their achievement. In fact, the only downside of the whole afternoon was that some of the on-lookers were completely enthralled with the siren function on a bull-horn that they had gotten from god-knows-where. For a man having seen the lights come up in the bars near the two o'clock hour earlier in the morning there is nothing more grating on the nerves than a braying siren in the hands of enthusiastic supporters. But, that aside, it was a wonderful time. I even played Frisbee with a stranger.

2. Business and the Generation Gap
After all the race day festivities were through and done with today my father, my Lindsey, Michael J. and I made our way to lunch where we had a very interesting--at least I thought it was interesting--conversation about generational differences in the workplace.

The conversation so intrigued me that I have decided that I should better use my free time in the near future to write about not just the subject of how differences in generation effect how we deal with people in every day situations in the business world, but more to the point how the younger generations are being left in the cold when it comes to the discrepancies in the increase in the cost of living versus the [lack of] increase in standard wages. I would like to write either an article or possibly a book on the subject, but we shall see what the research will bear, right...

Anyway, the subject of age and attitude when it comes to consumerism is a very interesting one. Where one generation seems to thrive on personal contact while another is infinitely happier to rely on computerized systems for their purchasing needs. I suppose the major differences in the groups can be boiled down to two possible reasoning processes--if you will indulge me in a somewhat oversimplified look at the subject. One school of thought would be that people of older generations desire the niceties that come with personal interaction. They like to know the name of who they are dealing with, and also to have that person know who they are. Being of the younger generation myself I can only moderately understand those feelings. While it is nice for someone with whom you are dealing to know you, and know what you like it is just as well by me if they have no idea who I am, so long as they are competent at their job.

As I say, I am of the younger, more technologically accepting generation. When at work I feel like I have more trouble with the older clients because to me they are in need of having their hands held through everything. They want someone to talk to about their problems to make sure that what they think has happened has actually happened. I suppose it is just a more cautious endeavor, and maybe the difference is not generational at all but simply a personal one. Perhaps I am less apt to worry than most people and therefore label those who do worry as "old" and "confused."

However, research needs to be done, and we will see what it turns up. This could be fun, and definitely keep me out of the bars. I hope that the library is open until 2am. Wheee!

3. The Arway on Errortay (Shhhhh!)
Apparently there is to be a made-for-TV movie coming out sometime next week, or in the next few weeks, about the governmental knowledge in the time leading up to the World Trade Center and Pentagon attacks. Now, I have already seen a documentary or two on the subject wherein it is pointed out that the United States government had knowledge that something of the sort was likely, and indeed predicted, to happen on American soil, but failed to act on that information.

In these documentaries and TV dramas there are obviously going to be differences of opinion as to whether or not the decision to do nothing was intentional or, in fact, it was not a decision at all or simply an oversight. (This is completely omitting--for the sake of my being sleepy--the theories that what hit the pentagon was not an airplane at all, but a missile of some sort...) Whatever your opinion, and however you may have come to hold it, it is fairly obvious that something went very wrong and lives were lost.

The thing that got me thinking about this today was a question from my girlfriend. During one of the commercials she asked me something to the effect of, "What is the point of making a movie like that? Why would you want to basically tell people that their government is not looking out for their best interests after all, but good luck anyway?"

I did not really have a response for the question other than to answer with another question. Isn't that what the media is supposed to do? I mean if the government is not looking after our best interests (and believe me, I in no way think that they are anymore) I think it is the job of the media to let us know, so that we can pick a better form of government. I do not want to sound too preachy, but I feel as though the government has strayed much to far from its origins these days to the point where many people revere it as an untouchable entity rather than a group of people who ostensibly there to serve our needs. I fear that too many times we are blinded by a doctrine of fear into believing that we need the government, which is what they want, isn't it? At this point the government is acting like a corporation that wants you to feel that you need it, much like a regular company wants you to believe that you cannot live without their product. They [the government] is creating a market for itself so that it will seem like a bad idea, or at the very least a terrible inconvenience to seek out a better form of government.

I watched a movie a couple of weeks ago in which there was an incredibly interesting and timely line...or at least I thought so. The main character stated, "People should not be afraid of the government, Governments should be afraid of the people." (or somesuch) What got to me about this line was what it did not say, more than anything. Upon first blush I was nodding my head going, 'yes, yes, that is so true.' but the more I thought about the statement the more I loved it for what it said by way of omission. That something could on the surface seem so right on, miss the boat entirely, and then totally redeem itself on cross-examination was very endearing to me. Let me explain what I mean:

People, these days, in this country, are scared of pretty much everything. This situation is not helped by the fact that every local news show every is so totally focused on the negative in life that even the once-in-a-while feel good puff pieces that they do only serve the make the viewers think, 'that is so cute how silly they are being when they could be stabbed in the ear any minute by a crazy person, of whom there are an infinite number a-lurking around every corner. I know this because I see the stories every day.' But what people ARE NOT afraid of is the government (yeah I used capitalization and italics. emphasis, bitches!). Most people are more concerned that their elected officials go to the right kind of church and have not touched anything weird with their wieners lately [or hoo-haas for the lady elected officials] than they are about foreign policy. In fact, most people look to the government for protection, rather than cowering from stern edicts and laws.

Contrary to what I fear was the intended message of that little quip from the movie (it's from V for Vendetta, by the by) I think that the government in this country is VERY afraid of the people of this country. The government is afraid that we will find out that they have long-since stopped doing us any favors and are largely occupied by making sure the needs of people who give them money are met. However, if they keep us dazzled and/or terrified constantly we will never have time to think about what they actually do, and who it actually benefits, so they get to keep their jobs, and we have something to do, hooray. So, in the end we get to keep on being the currently most hated people in the world and we also get to continue not to understand why.

U.S.A! U.S.A! U.S.A!

4. Frustration
The whole reason I got into this blogging thing was because I had the hopes in my head that there would be some interaction, some feedback. But in the end, there is nothing. For example, tonight I have spent the better part of an hour writing about things that worry/amuse/interest/elate me, but I can count on the fact that I probably won't hear word one back from people who have read it. I would really like to hear anything from people. Questions, comments, rebuttals, anything. I know this is kind of low and needy, but whatever. It just baffles me that nobody even drops a 'hey, I read that, here I am recognizing that you filled a little of my day' on the comments section. But then I see people in person and they say they read and like it. I don't know it just feels like after a while I am talking to a wall. A wall that I'm not even sure is there to listen, but I am fairly sure will not respond. I guess all I really want in the end is to know that somebody (anybody) is actually reading this stuff and that it is worth my time to keep writing, so long as it is worth somebody's time to keep reading. That's all I wonder about. I hope everyone is having a wonderful weekend.

-A.R. Leith

Quote: "You are not a beautiful and unique snowflake. You are the same decaying organic matter as everything else." -Chuck P.

So, maybe I'm a liar...

2006-08-22T15:33:00.000-07:00

Would that make me the worst person in the world? I don't think so. There are plenty of other liars and lies out there that make the fact that I didn't write yesterday only a mere bluff on the grand scale of untruths. For example; "There are WMDs in Iraq," "Santa Clause," "The Tooth Fairy," "If your hand is bigger than your face you have cancer," "Grandma's just sleeping," "I love you," all--in the proper context are lies that put mine to shame. And, here is the most important part, I did not MEAN to lie to you. Some of the things mentioned above were out and out falsities put forth intentionally to decieve. Especially offensive given that some of them were directed to children who, by nature, are stupid and will believe anything they are told by someon older than them. I don't think that any children read what I write here, but if they do, god bless them.

Anyway, here I am writing to you, dear reader, a day late, and probably a paragraph or two short, but I wanted to give you something to do. (More importantly I wanted to give ME something to do.) I would say that the only reason I type on this infernal device is to give me something to do, but the truth is that I actually care whether people read this or not. I care even more about whether they like what they have read. I suppose that those of you that keep reading find something useful in your time spent on the page, so I guess that's something.

I was feeling sorry for myself this morning, and not because I am a chubby balding character, but rather because I am not getting along well at my new job. I am frustrated, angry, tired, bored, and lost all at the same time. So, today I have decided to make a contract with myself to turn all that shit around. Except maybe for the balding bit, which I really have very little control over. The point is that I am taking it upon myself to do my best to conquer this new job and make it my bitch, so that once I am actually on top of the situation I can make a more informed decision about acutally liking the job for what it is as a whole, not just as it is on this day. So I will be doing that.

I have also decided--this, much earlier in the morning while making myself clean and presentable--that I need to change my lifestyle to be a better person. And hopefully to live longer and not have to shop in the "husky" department anymore. To that end I have, as of today given up drinking until the all-hallow's eve celebration at the end of October. Between now and then I will not consume any beer or alcohol. (I will be taking a break for the first half of November in order to properly celebrate some birthdays.) I will also eliminate from my diet the sodas and juices that are so sugary and make me a fatty. Once that is working well I will try to eliminate all candies and chocolates as well. I am going to be a regular health nut. After the candies, etc. are gone I will work on eliminating fried foods and so on, until I am eating nothing but grilled delisciousness. We'll see how it all works out, but it is good to have goals.

I would also like some input today on attending college soccer matches. Is it creepy, even though I am an alum to go back to the school and watch the soccer games? I mean, they are the best thing going in the region for live-sports-action, so I don't see why I shouldn't go to the games. My concern, predominantly, is the propriety of sitting in the student section. Should I feel free, or should I relegate myself to the regular townie cheering side? Who knows. I am also a little worried about the fact that my former school does not have any Football style team scarves that the fans can sport in support of the team, and to protect the tender necks of onlookers as the season progresses into fall. I think this is a major oversight on the part of the book store and the booster's club. I am assuming here that Fort Lewis does HAVE a booster's club, but I would not be suprised if that money went to some local interest group or another.

Anyway, I think that is about all for now, as my lady-friend is going to take me out to dinner--like on a date--this evening and I want to look my best so that she may want to give me kisses later. Have I told everyone about my lady-friend? If I have been remiss in that area, please let me know and I will let you know all about her. Until then...

-A.R. Leith

Quote: "But your bootstraps were broken before you arrived."- D4

Here's the Thing...

2006-08-20T22:26:00.000-07:00

Apparently, the best thing to do when you have the day off is NOT to lay around the house like a peice of furniture and fall asleep watching "Dazed and Confused" only to wake up and turn the channel to the "PGA Championship". In face, I cannot think of a more wasteful use of four hours on a perfectly lovely Sunday. But anyway, that is exactly what I did. So, here I am at nearly 11:30 MST writing to you folks in the hope that you will care even a little bit.

I went and played poker tonight with some lads and lost handily. In fact, I lost so handily that I even had time to buy back in and lose all that money too. What it basically comes down to is that I'm shite at cards. Actually, I'm only truly shite when there is money involved. I would much rather play games of skill than chance, but who knows. Maybe I'll learn my lesson someday.

Okay, that is all I can think of right now...or at least all I can type about because the keyboard strikes me as noisy and I don't want to keep others up. I promise I'll write something long-winded and absolutely-pointless tomorrow that people can read if they are bored at work or whatever. G'night.

-A.R. Leith

Quote: "What did she do, take a vow of frowns or something?"- T.S. Garp

Bergina is for lovers

2006-07-27T20:47:00.000-07:00

I am kind of wondering if this is all there is. I mean, does everyone feel like this right off the bat, or does it sometimes take years to get here. As I was leaving the office this evening I thought to myself, "whelp, I managed to fill up another day with stuff." Should your career, while it puts food on the table and passes the time, also be something you love doing? In the grand scheme of things I would like to be able to say that there is something more out there. Some devine job that is waiting for every person, based on their desires, loves, skills, and aptitude. But the sad truth is that a vast majority of people are doing jobs that they hate just to pay the bills.

I am not saying in any way here that I hate my job. I like my job very much. I think I may, however, be settling in to the realization that this is it. There will be no "next season"--as there has been for the last six years of my life--there will be no "next semester"--as there has been for longer than I care to recount here. Tomorrow, next week, next year...it is going to be the same thing. Not exactly the same thing, of course. Today I had tuna caserole for lunch. but enough of the same thing to make me start to worry about my future outlook. Oh well, though, right, everyone has to grin and bear it for a while until they can be truly happy, right. I just hope I don't get crushed by an RV before that happens...

In other--probably more entertaining--news, I was recently in the Chicagoland area for a week visiting family and friends. A good time was had by all. More importantly, going on at the same time we were there was the 8th (annual?, consecutive?, I'm not sure) Gay Games! This was remarkable for me for a few reasons. First and foremost that such an event received so very little coverage that I noticed. I guess that should not have been so suprising in that when the World Cup was in Chicago during my High School years I barely heard a whisper about it. And a lot more people [internationally] are into futbol than sodomy. (This, dear reader, is not a fact, simply an assumption, and maybe a bad one.)

The second thing that I found sensational was that the participants in the games actually dispelled a myth for me. There is much hubub that homosexual men are better dressers than mere mortal men. The fact is that this summer, during the tenure of the Gay Games, the only way I could tell the difference between your average beer-gutted, tank-topped, besandaled, sweaty american tourist was the presence of a tiny back-pack. (Many of which were obviously some sort of promotional item from a group to be found at the website gay.com) Oh, I would like to make one notable exception in this catagory for a nice young couple that were wearing some smashing sailor suits...but they might just have been sailors on leave and I just jumped the gun because they were holding hands.

Okay, because I am tired and would like to go lay down--yeah, I know it's only nine o'clock but I am old now and have to have a real person's job--I will give you a brief, but informational, rundown of our exciting trip to the middle west:

[editor's note: I wanted to use bullets for these, but I couldn't figure out how to make bullets on this here myspace device. If anyone runs into Tom you punch him in the stomach for me.]

[Secondary editor's note: Oh yeah, because of the lack of bullets this will be done by days. If there is any day you have a particular disdain for in the roman calendar you may feel free to skip that day and read a day that you do like twice.]

Saturday: Drove all night to catch a flight in Denver, Creepy stewardess stared at me, ate beef and cheese with cheese fries, cookout at mom's where I got my ass handed to me in "bags" (Aparently people were getting tired of natural selection and have moved from lawn darts to horse shoes to this little pufta game where you really have to try to get anyone hurt.)

Sunday: Don't remember why we were late for things but we were, went to the Field Museum where I decided that I could probably take a T-rex in hand to hand combat. Go ahead, prove me wrong...

Monday: Architectural tour of Chicago, on a boat. Navy Pier, where it was ungodly hot but I did ride the Ferris Wheel [Introduced to the world at the 1893 Columbian Exposition in Chicago]. Then shopping on Michigan avenue where there were entirely too much people and almost no customer service.

Tuesday: I don't at all remember what we did Tuesday. I think we bought some stuff and then went to the city where I achieved a tummy ache by drinking a lot of Old Style brand beer and having a very fluffy omlette at three in the morning. However, Fat Tuesdays at the Exit was the best time I have had in a bar in a while, with my pants on.

Wednesday: Slept in late, and didn't do much of anything until I met my mom 'n' them for happy hour. Afterwards we went to a totally rocking show where the Lawrence Arms made lots of loud noises as I nodded apreciatively.

Thursday: Went to a Cubs game where the home squadron was able to triumph over the visiting Dis-astros. If memory serves the Cubs generally win when I am at games, so, if anyone from the team's upper management is reading this and wants to give me bleacher seats for life, I would not turn them down.

Friday: Took in a matinee and enjoyed Chicago style pizza. Very relaxing.

Saturday: Became intoxicated/sun burned at a pool party. I would be remiss if I failed to mention that shortly after becoming pink from the sun we were hailed on at the very same pool party. A good time was had by all.

Sunday: Airplane, long drive, much sleep. Hooray, home.

Although I cannot remember what night it happened on, I distinctly remember going bowling, falling down, and then having the power go out...which led to the inevitable candle light dinner of White Castles. Also, I learned on this trip that White Castle spells their burger with a "Y". Those in the know will know what I mean. Also, everyone should be impressed that, in one week's time, I managed to gain back the 20 pounds I had lost since graduation. Hooray me! Yay, sea level and beer.

I guess that's it. Sorry for not writing more, I'm trying to be better about it. Laters.

-A.R. Leith

Mad at Bill.

2006-07-27T20:46:00.000-07:00

I wouldn't say mad, really, but at the very least he has perturbed me.

There was a recent comment made her on my page featuring a link to a web page that derides the book Atlas Shrugged. It is written from an obviously socialist standpoint, which in and of itself I have no problem with. The problem comes, for me, when anyone hears that I like that book. (Well, not anyone, but anyone who is even mildly socially aware.) There is an automatic assumption that becuse I like that book I am staunchly capitalist and hate "the people". The problem arises in the fact that I don't really feel how I feel because of what THEY got out of the reading of the book but rather what I derived from the book. Let's take a step back though...

For those of you who haven't heard about, or read, the book let's get a brief rundown:

Atlas Shrugged is ostensibly about a young woman who is in a position of power and will not lower her standards and becomes an outcast of industry in search for like. What it is really about is the clash between capitalism and socialism, as many powerful industrialists in the book form a little club and drop out of society, causing the infrastructure to collapse as "common people" are left to flounder without any direction or benefactors. This is all horse-shit. Not least of all because of the way it portrays a supposedly enlightened and powerful woman.
What Atlas Shrugged is about, to me:

Okay I think we can all agree that the premis is kind of bullshit. To assume that if a few wealthy and powerful people disapeared society and the national infrastructure would crumble before other power-hungry and ambitious people stepped up to fill their place is a hard pill to swallow. So don't swallow it. I know I didn't. There are, however, many ideas in the book that got me to thinking, or struck a chord, which is why I like the book. First and foremost is the central idea behind the story. A story which wandered a little to far from the point. The idea is that people--society as a whole--should not come to rely on the goodness, the power, and the importance of others, or all will be lost. Atlas Shrugged is a parable about taking responsibility for yourself and not expecting, nevermind asking for, the help of others and becoming to rely on what others have done as a crutch for your own survival and well being. I do not think that we live in a world where we should put others before ourselves in the sense that we cannot be expected to survive on our own. Every man is great enough to survive and prosper without handouts from others.

I fear that our country is on the verge of becoming the dystopia portrayed in Atlas Shrugged, but that is a whole different blog entry. In the end what I like about the book is it's underlying ideas, rather than the story. I love what it makes me think about and that it allows me to dispise what it depicts while still spawning positive and self assuring ideas and notions within me. I am fairly positive that this is not the message intended by Rand in the book. Her message, however, is much more clear in The Fountainhead, which is why I like it much more. It is more clean cut and about not sacrificing ideals in a more personaly way, which, to me, is better. (Look at all those commas!)

Okay, that is all for now, I'm out for a week, but contemplating writing a journal on here every night of my vacation, just to get the typing juices flowing again so I can blog better and more frequently. Tell me what you think.

Laters

-A.R. Leith

Who wants a moustache ride?

2006-07-27T20:44:00.000-07:00

Who wants a moustache ride?
I have decided that living in Durango is a lot like being in a really big Day-care all the time. Now, now, don't get me wrong. I do not mean this in a mean or judgemental way. It is just that summer seems to finally be coming to D-town this evening, and I was walking home from the bars and eyeing the general public. Everyone is cruising around on their bikes and skateboards like it is a todler-free-for-all. It is kind of nice to see people holding on to their youth so fondly--although sometimes desperately--because in the world today there is a lot of shit going down, and enjoying yourself is hard. (Not to get into the question or whether or not we SHOULD be enjoying ourselves when there is so much that needs fixing, or in some cases leaving alone, because if it ain't broke, don't try and fix it.) But anyway, I guess that is why people move to Colorado, so that they can put the rest of their lives on hold in this mountainous never-never-land.

At any rate, keep up the goot times; just make sure that they do not become someone else's bad times. Also, it is summertime, so I would like to--once again--call for the repeal of the pedestrian right of way, because it defies logic, good sense, and evolution, and is really annoying when you are trying to turn onto a busy street and your chance FINALLY comes and some fancy dipshit wanders out into the cross walk, so you are stuck for another five minutes. Maybe what we need is elevated walkways, or pedestrian malls, so that cars and walkers need not bother with one another. Oh well, I'll put that on the wish list with the monorail. Laters kids.

-A.R. Leith

Quote: "It's time to start being kids again, when hopes are strong and eyes are bright...I just wanna be a kid again, I wanna play in the park." -Slapstick

Womb Broom, with the Flavor Savor Option

2006-07-27T20:42:00.000-07:00

So, in celebration of the recent Cinco de Mustache I did just that and shaved myself a mustache. I also, however, left what is commonly referred to as a "soul patch" and less commonly referred to as a "flavor savor". At any rate, I look at a jackass. But it has been good in one aspect of life: Because I had a full beard for many months, the presence of hair on my upper lip is not foreign to me. So basically I totally forget that the rest of the beard is no longer there until someone mentions it, or I see myself in the mirror. Anyway, it has been good for a chuckle now and again, and sometimes that is all my day needs to be good.

The long and the short of the whole situation is that I will be keeping the 'stash until such a time that I have a decent digital photo of myself with it posted on this-here page for all the world to see. Won't that be nice?
In other news, I have recently graduated from the prestegious Fort Lewis College; Colorado's Campus in the Sky; The Harvard on the Hill, etc. Everyone keeps asking me "now what?" The only problem is that the only response I really have to that question is, "exactly." I really have no idea what I want to do with my life. If anybody out there is looking to throw money at a young college graduate, please feel free to drop me a line. I graduated with honors, you know! Consider this my resume...

The final thing I would like to talk about here today is the near-complete-lack-of-driving-ability here in Durango. I know I've harped on this before, so I am only going to bring up one specific thing that has been chapping my ass lately. Apparently there are a good number of people around here who do not understand the meaning of a "Yeild" sign. Briefly, it means that you are to cover the brake as you approach and, if someone is coming from the direction that does not have the yeild sign, you are to yeild the right of way. This does not seem to register with some Durango drivers. They either treat the sign as a stop sign and halt completely, or as though it doesn't exist at all.

Now, being a bad driver is one thing, but then throwing a hissy-fit when someone honks at you because you are a bad driver and have endangered others is quite different. I don't know. I guess I just think that everyone is so out of it and "happy" here that they treat a good honking at like you have kicked their sister in the uterus. I guess all I am asking is that people feel sufficiently guilty when they are not paying attention on the road and impede the progress of others. But maybe that's too much to ask, right?

-A.R. Leith

p.s.- If I have ever learned anything from the internet, it is that some people should probably keep their clothes on.

Doth Mine Eyes Decieve Me?

2006-04-05T20:20:00.000-07:00

I was innocently walking across campus the other day and was almost struck by a rollerblader. Let me repeat that, just in case you did not understand--as I had a hard time understanding--that I was almost "struck" by a "rollerblader". I was under the impression that this was a dead breed. That is, I was under that impression.

Last year I had the good fortune to summer in the suburbs of Chicago. I had completely forgotten that there was such a sport as rollerblading, until one day I was on my way to the city and looked out the window on the way down lakeshore drive. What did I behold but the vision of--not just one or two--but literally dozens of people on inline skates careening their way along the waterfront. Oh sure, there were also cyclists, runners and "speed-walkers", but the once-believed-extinct rollerblader was the most prominent, because of their perceived rarity. It came as great surprise to me when my sister informed me that these were not, in fact, rarities, but a common sight on the streets of that Midwestern metropolis.

But that does not really cover the fact of the matter that this girl was HAULING. And she was totally into it. Shortly after whizzing by me she got into this awesome crouch and began some totally radical slalom turning to slow down before darting into traffic. I could tell she was on her way to someplace, because she had thought ahead and had thrown a pair of flippy-flops in her back pocket. So, you knew something was up. This girl had it going on, and nobody could stop her on the way to greatness. It was just her and those skates against the world.

In other news, I am fast approaching my graduation from college. Having attended various institutions for the better part of a decade it has come my time to move on in life. I don't know what the big deal about growing up is, but it's damn near time that I join the human race and become a productive member of society. I don't know exactly when that is going to happen, and in what fashion, but as of now, becoming a teacher of literature for High School students is still pretty high on the list of things that could very possibly happen, but it would need a little more schooling. I'm okay with that, so long as it is just a little bit.

Anyway, the ceremony and all that entails is upcoming, and that is what everything in life is going towards for me right now, and I couldn't be more excited. I'm really excited, aren't you? If not, you should be.

-A.R. Leith

Quote: "Mistakes are just fine, just don't make excuses." -Telegraph

You Know...

2006-03-23T18:58:00.000-08:00

There are a lot of ethical, moral, and logistical problems involved in time travel. I was in a local eatery this evening, and got to thinking about it. My girlfriend, Lindsey, ordered a strawberry-custard milkshake. Unfortunately she has an aversion to food items with chunks or bits of fruit in them, owing to an unfortunate summer-camp incident involving regurgitation by a camper in her care. So, she gets her shake and all is well and good, until she hits the first chunk of delicious real strawberry. As she was trying to pawn off her milkshake on anyone who will listen--including trying to get me to trade her my deliciously-chunk-free chocolate shake--I began to think of ways of solving the problem. The first idea that popped into my head was to ask the giggly girls at the counter to remove the offending chunks with some sort of device that I am sure they have on hand for just such occasions. Recognizing the impracticality of that I began to weigh other options.

It was at that point that I hit on the idea of a time-travel device. However, it was quickly clear that there are a lot of problems attendant to time travel. My first thought was that we could simply go back in time and buy a shake of a different flavor. That would only solve the problem for the future Lindsey, and the present Lindsey would still be stuck with the offending dairy product. My next idea was to have the future Lindsey come back to warn her past self about the chunk-filled beverage. This brought up the question of what, exactly, would happen if Future Girlfriend came to talk to Present Girlfriend. Would the traveler of time disappear as soon as the course of the present was changed to, say, a vanilla flavored drink? Because it would be unnecessary for the trip to have happened if the past were altered and the shake were not a problem. And then, as Doc Brown can tell you, all sorts of other changes in the future might occur as ripples from this seemingly insignificant change. All in all I think it is a very sticky situation and time travel should be left alone, at least until we can reasonably predict the repercussions of changing the past.

That being said, I think it is worth mentioning that it has been quite a long time since I have written here. In fact, I am sure that there are a great many of you for whom it will take a long time to realize that I have started writing on this little device again, but let me tell you, by way of explanation, why it has been so long...if you care.

First and foremost, I have met a lady and I have been spending a lot of time with her, wooing her and whatnot. This is a very good thing, but it has changed my daily thought-process about how my time is spent. Secondly, we have come to the part of the season in College Basketball where it is important to watch a great deal of that sport on the television in order to know who to pick in the tournament bracket that we are all likely to fill out, but few are destined to win. Finally, and perhaps most importantly my college career is soon coming to an end and I have been spending a lot of time agonizing over what my future can, should, and will look like. I know, I know, I have had the better part of a decade to figure all of this out, but until recently that fact has not really sunk in for me. So, if any of you have any career openings that you would like to offer me, I am open to anything at the moment, and trying to get my shit together. Okay, thank you for listening (or reading), and I will do my best to make this a more frequent occurrence this summer.

Also, summer travel plans are in the process of being made, so if any of you have some suggestions I would love to consider them. Just let me know. Word...

-A.R. Leith

Quote: "How much art can you take?" -Patty

Everybody and Their Sister

2006-01-10T18:49:00.000-08:00

It would seem that everybody and their sister is getting involved in this myspace business. Everyone tells me that I should join and "become part of the community" but all it really seems like to me is an online circle-jerk of people congratulating eachother on being able to take the digital photo and put it into cyber-space. (Do people even really call it 'cyber-space' anymore? Is that too passe? Does it date me?) Myspace is Latin, I believe, for "I have entirely too much free time and would probably be put to better use as a construction flagger or a ground troop in one of the many on-going military thingies in which the good ol' U.S. of A. is currently embroiled. Whatever the reason for the hullabaloo, I just don't know how many pictures of other people having fun I want to look at while trying to make it through college and a full time job. But that is not really why I came on here today...

What I would like to tell you fine people about is the phenomenon I would like to call over-achieving at the gym. I have recently embarked on a program/resolution fulfillment plan that involves me losing a good deal of weight by graduation. In order to do this I have started going to the gym on a daily basis. Granted, it has only been two days so far but that still counts as a daily basis then, doesn't it--look it up. So I got the bright idea to go to the gym before work on this Monday last. How is it possible that every piece of machinery at the gym is occupied at five-forty-five in the goddamn morning? I thought I was being so sly by going at an off hour. Apparently the fact that there is only one real gym in town and it is woefully undersized for the number of "fitness nuts" in this little mountain village. Tomorrow I am going to try in the evening and see if it isn't a little better. I think the place should be open 24 hours a day, but that wouldn't stand in a town where the only thing to do after nine p.m. is to get drunk...so we've got that going for us, which is nice.

Here's the other problem I have with going to the gym: In order to get my heart rate up and burn the fatty tissue that I am so desirous of being rid of I have decided to ride the exercise bicycle. However, on the bicycle that has the cushy seat--not the one that you sit down in like a chair, or the super-agro lemond with the tiny seat--when I ride for too long my junk falls asleep. It is not an altogether unpleasant sensation, except for the fact that I have to keep looking down to make sure I am not "aroused" in a very public way. There is just no feeling at all down there. It is altogether strange.

Okay, I think that is about all for now, other than the fact that I am considering building a house in the Yukon in which to live and stay away from people who bug me. More on people who bug me in the next blog...

-A.R. Leith

"Life should be made as difficult as possible so that the victims might learn something in the effort." -Hunter S. Thompson

I'll Probably Be Dead Soon.

2005-12-19T15:22:00.000-08:00

The other night I woke up at one-ish because my body had made up its mind to eliminate all of the non-native solids and fluids from the system without much worry as to which way they went out. Now, with the recent emergence of the "Shat Trick" (Three movements before noon.) I had little to ponder over the course of the early morning other than just how many Shat Tricks I would produce on this fine autumn eve. I'll probably be dead by nightfall. Also, I apologize for the scatalogical nature of the beginning of this Blog Entry.

I don't really know what got into me there, only what came out...and that's everything. But onward to more pressing matters:

It has recently become apparent to me that there is a disturbing trend in modern "literature" towards putting graphic sexual information into the text of novels. I am not singling out the writers of the so-called steamy novel. They are writing with that purpose in mind. No, my problem is with authors seeking to write a reputable book but cannot seem to keep themselves from including unnecessary and lewd sexual information. Okay, okay, they may be doing this in an attempt to keep things realistic, and that is fine, but there is some realism in modesty. Or am I just missing the big picture where everyone is telling eachother minute details of their sexual lives over beer and peanuts. If that is indeed the case, I wish someone would fill me in, I love a juicy tid-bit as much as the next guy. But the fact is that I do not see that happening. I don't hear it either. It is just weird. Used to be you could hint at relations in a book without going overboard and the general public would get it...which brings up the next point.

I actually find it less offensive than I do insulting that these authors feel the need to put such detailed accounts of intercourse in their works. It is as though they do not trust me to know what goes on during love-making. If they are going to go so far as to make the lurid intricacies known they might as well include diagrams with arrows and captions like, "I caressed the vaginal wall more-than-a-bit-roughly here:" That's how far the imposition of details takes me out of the plot. It's all kind of gross. So, for the Schifletts and Neffeneggers of the world: knock it off. Tell the story without telling me about anybodies genitalia size and uses. Unless, of course, these items are so bizarre that they are truly of note. For example, if your main character has problems with the ladies because his penis is the exact size and shape of a baseball lodged on a number two pencil, go ahead and let me know about it. That is interesting and different, and important to the story. (Although, it should be pointed out here that the main character of Hemmingway's The Sun Also Rises was genitally handicapped and Pappa never felt it necessary to go into exactly what had happened and what was wrong...) Also, if the labia majora* are so cumbersome and unwieldy that it is necessary for a special harness to be designed and fashioned to control them I would like to know, because that is intimate and funny. But don't lie to me. To tell me that an erection is large enough to ride a rollercoaster unaccompanied by an adult is obviously a falsity. OR, in the event that it is not a fabrication, my interest has been piqued...You are going to have to go into further detail as to how this affects--both negatively and positively--the life of the possessor of such an instrument. Is it a birth defect? Did it just grow like that naturally? Did the person live below high-tension wires in his youth? When traveling, is it necessary to purchase an extra airplane passage for his unit? What kind of floppy mass of flesh is created when an erection of that size ceases to be erect? Do you need special trousers? If you DO need special trousers, would they be made by the same craftsman who made the harness for the lady with the beef curtains we mentioned earlier?

The bottom line is I am worried about this person, so you can't just throw yourself back into the plot after outlining a physical deformity such as this. And again I must apologize for the mental images that I am sure many of you have right now, welcome to my life.

Beverages:
Yesterday I took my lady-friend to a motion picturer. At the concession stand there I bought an ICEE brand frozen drink. I would just like to say right now that ICEEs suck. They are in no way comparable to the beloved Slurpee sold by the 7 Eleven company. I will, however, admit that the Icee is at least got right away. The problem is that they do not melt properly. The fluid all runs down to the bottom, leaving the ice all alone at the top and flavorless. It is really quite depressing. Alls I'm saying is that if someone, anyone, who has the power within the 7Eleven structure system reads this, seriously think about putting a store here in D-town. Word.

Another thing having to do with liquid refreshments...Today I was bored, thirsty, and a little bit tired. So I took a pint glass, a red bull and some OJ and mixed liberally. Let me tell you what I came up with was a delicious taste sensation that was both refreshing and energising. I would recommend that everyone who is so inclined try it. But if you like it, and continue to use it you have two options. You can either refer to the drink as Dr. Leith, or make your old lady call you Andy the next time you have sex. That is all.

-A.R. Leith

"I'm in love with love and lousy poetry." -The Weakerthans

* Special Thanks to Morgan Gilliland for being there with the techinal name of this body part when it escaped me. Thanks, Chief.

Alright, I'm Sorry.

2005-12-16T05:52:00.000-08:00

I know it has been a while since anything of note has been put on here. And even longer since anything worth reading has shown up. (If it ever has...) The point being that I am really sorry in so many ways. I have been real busy. I promise to have something fun, interesting, or compromising up here really soon so you can all be amused, learned or offended collectively. I just haven't really had anything worth telling the world of late.

Oh, I did go to texas, and that was pretty rad. Truth be told, what I actually saw of texas was just like everyplace else there is to go in the continental U.S. A lot of shopping centers and suburbia, some nicer than others, as usual. That's about it. Oh, I did find it interesting that the area around Minute Maid Park--where the Astros play--was so desolate and kind of run down. There were boarded up buildings directly across the street from the ballpark, it was weird to see.

Speaking of that, I like to complain about arenas and other sports places being named for companies, but it just struck me that Wrigley Field is the OG sponsored ballpark, and I like that place lots, so I guess I should just shut up and roll with it, eh?

Anyway, that's all for now, and I assure you I'll have more soon. Go check out the Skinema section at Viceland.com for some humor if you are in the mood. Laters.

-A.R. Leith

Strictly Speaking...

2005-11-01T18:47:00.000-08:00

Some of the things that were said in today's earlier post were inaccurate. The stuff about people giving all negative response to what I write...or at least only negative encouragement, I meant that. The part about having nothing to say...that's not so true.

Today as I was wandering around the parking lot at the ol' Fort Lewis (Fort Leisure if you will...) I noticed that the car parked immediately in front of mine was sporting some rather interesting decals. They read--in descending order of height on the car--"Carnegie-Mellon", "Northwestern", and "Harvard"... What theeee FUCK!?

Now, I'm not one to bag on the institution that is going to give me my means of recognition in the world outside of academia, but we all know about the Fort. If you are not in-the-know let me give you a run-down. Fort Lewis is a "liberal arts college on the New England model" that is basically a fancy-pants way of saying that we don't give a shit about anything except the happy little trees and the whales in the sea. If you have a pulse and a means of paying the bill you are going to do just fine here at Colorado's Campus in the Sky...

Anyway, here's my gripe. Does this person expect us to believe that they attended not one, not two, but all three of these schools BEFORE coming to the Fort in ANY capacity? I just don't think that could be the case. So the next theory is that this is the car of a person who is sibling to persons attending these prestigious schools. In which case, why would you want that constant reminder in your back window that you are at a school that is probably pretty lax, even on that "pulse" thing we just talked about.

However, as I am writing all of this I find myself faced with a third, reasonably plausible, possibility. In fact it is a nice possibility that I will hence forth hope is the truth. Perhaps this economically reasonable ride was the property of a faculty member--or even an older student--who is the parent of children at such fancy-pants schools. If that is the case, as I hope it is, they have every right to be proud. They and their significant other should be giving each other the hi-fives (even though they are frowned upon in other situations I feel they might just be warranted here) after coitus for producing such excellent offspring.

And that, my friends, is why boxed wine is never really a good idea...

-A.R. Leith

Other Quote: "If you are going to do it half-assed, don't fucking do it at all."- the Tossers

Earlier Today...

2005-11-01T14:17:00.000-08:00

While walking between classes today I thought of an excellent blog topic. But since then I have forgotten what it was. So I guess that's too bad, isn't it.

I would like to mention how cute I think it is that people are so quick to pester me to write new things when I haven't posted for a while, but that nobody really wants to make any comments on what has been written. I was kind of hoping, when I started this whole thing, to open up channels of dialogue for people to discuss topics of the day. It has not worked out that way, however. Instead I receive death threats for not offering entertainment for people. It is like everyone is saying "Dance, you funny little monkey, dance for our entertainment..." with nothing really offered in return. It is not easy to perform on command, but evidently people want it to happen, no matter what. So that's fun. Especially when I ask for topic suggestions so that I have SOMETHING to write about and NOBODY comes through....thanks guys.

-A.R. Leith

Quote: "Maybe I don't know. But probably not."- Big D and the Kid's Table

How We Roll OR Talkin' 'Bout My Generation

2005-10-20T13:08:00.000-07:00

Society is at an impasse. The terror alerts are color coded and time clocks need to be punched. All the kids are medicated to the eyeballs, crime is on the rise, and soon there will be no social security left. But there is no need to worry about it.

The greatest generation, our grandparents, cared about doing a great job, about saving the world from evils—real or imagined—and about providing a good life for their children. The baby-boomers, our parent’s generation, cared about little more than themselves and patting themselves on the back for all the good things they talked about doing. So, what is left for our generation to care about? Increasingly the answer to that question is…nothing. That is not to say that there is nothing worth worrying about in the world, just that a lot of people in the 18-30 age group cannot find it in their hearts to care about the world in general. As our grandparents would have told us—had we been listening—anything worth doing is worth doing right. Here are ten steps to afford you better living through apathy:

Step 1: Stop worrying about your career. Careers are a myth of a bygone era. Your grandfather might have worked at the same job his entire life, because he could. Used to be a company would pay a man decently for a job that he would work forty hours a week so that he could support his family. He did not always like his job; he did it because his kids needed to go to school and to eat. However, the Boomers decided that they all wanted middle management jobs so that they could sell the working man out for cheaper overseas labor. The irony being that the Boomers are now refusing to relinquish those jobs to the younger generation. All that is left for us, then, is to find a job we like that pays enough to get by and spend the rest of our time drinking Old Style out of Styrofoam coolers.

Step 2: Forget about finding Mr. or Mrs. Right. According to the Center for Disease Control as of the turn of the century nearly half of all first marriages end in divorce or separation. With those kinds of statistics marriage is little more than a temporary institution. There is no point, really, to concerning yourself with finding the right person, just someone who will be alright for now. That is not to say that you should not take full advantage of the modern amenities to protect yourself from diseases like babies. It is to say that fun is the name of the game so “find someplace warm—preferably moist—insert, thrust, repeat.”

Step 3: Global Warming? Pollution? Record hurricane seasons year after year? No sweat. And certainly nothing to get worked up over. As the boys in the Canadian punk-rock outfit would have it, “The world will go on without us. If we cannot fit ourselves into the scheme, we will be squeezed out. Suffocated, starved, or parched into extinction.” The planet Earth is a giant ball of dirt, water and gas floating in the vacuum of space. There is very little you or I could do to change that. The problem is that it may become uninhabitable for human life. More accurately, someday it will absolutely be inhospitable to human life in the form that we know it, so there is no use running around trying to change the way everyone lives. Evolution has worked thus far, why not let it have a crack at the next several millennia? The dinosaurs had a terrific recycling program* going and a highly touted public transportation system† but then a giant asteroid came and took it all away from them. Oh sure, we might have better technology and can “predict giant asteroids” but out time here on the mortal coil is finite no matter how we look at it so why spend all your time worrying about what could happen? Get a slurpee, rent a movie, and have a blast while you still can.

Step 4: In other parts of the world they are holding revolutions daily. The people are so fed up with some system or another that they are taking to the streets and using their ploughshares until the gutters run red with the blood of their countrymen. Here in America, on the other hand, we have Survivor, the Super Bowl, and Beer Commercials so we need not worry about that sort of hateful tripe. A young acquaintance of mine, Patrick Martindill, was until recently enjoying the good life provided by an excellent exchange rate in Bolivia while teaching English to the local high schoolers. That was all well and good until the very same locals decided that their government was no longer adequate and took up arms. Pat decided that he could not be bothered and simply avoided the world’s problems by moving back in with his mother and getting a job as a shoe salesman in Suburban Washington, D.C. Let the other people of the world worry about the problems that…

…you know what, fuck it. I know you were promised ten steps, but you get the idea. And, as Bill Amos, a 24 year old substitute teacher from Portland, OR—who substitutes because he can not find a real job, said when contacted for information, “Apathy schmapathy, I’m going to sleep…”

*Dinosaurs would eat almost anything and then turn it into useful fertilizer, which fed the trees, to produce oxygen, thus continuing the cycle of life.

†Just ask Fred Flintstone about his daily commute on the Bronto-bus.

-A.R. Leith

Quote: "Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit." -L.M. Willis, Inc.

I am Kill All of You...

2005-10-20T13:04:00.000-07:00

Look, I don't see very many of you writing a whole lot on your blogs. And whoever this "anonymous" person is, I do not know. The fact is that I am not made of time. I am a very busy college student. I fill my days with taking some sort of science-fiction character analysis. Evidently I am some sort of well-quaffed captain person on Star Trek...most likely. Personally, I think if I were to be any science fiction person at all it would be Barf from Spaceballs. So there. anyway, I'm going to post in a minute an article I wrote for class, so that you all have something to get you through your obviously busy days... Word.

-A.R. Leith

Alright You Fuckers!

2005-10-06T08:08:00.000-07:00

Judging from the most recent comments on my last entry there are some questions regarding the actions and events of October 1, 2005. But first I would like to clear up a couple of things.

Number one, the El Rancho Tavern is by no means the, now let me get this right, "dirtiest, stinkiest, most-hole-in-the-wall-bar ever." It is just another bar in Durango with self-important bouncers who pretty much shit their pants if anyone so much as asks them a question. Not to mention the fact that all of their anger took place while someone was trying to appologise to them for something that happened the night before. But I digress. There are bars in this world that far outstripe the Ranch in terms of down right dirtiness. The L&L on Clark, The old Fireside Bar, Timbers, are just a few that come immediately to mind. It would appear, then that the only thing the Ranch is really the best at is banning people for life...oh, and calling the police because they can't handle their shit.

That being said I would like all of you to sit right back and enjoy a tale of four young brothers you know so well...

Basically this is all silly, but I will relate it to you anyway. This Saturday last a group of us decided to go out and tie one on. There is nothing really out of the ordinary where that is concerned. However, because of some of the actions of last Friday night there was going to be a row.

Apparently, a young friend who shall remain nameless tried to leave the above-mentioned bar with a whiskey-coke zipped up in his jacket pocket. The proprieters were understandably angry about this, as is their right. (among the other things the young man did the proceeding night- 1. While running down the middle of the street is pulled over by police. Rather than halting he "pulls over" to the curb before the police can talk to him.) Anyway, so far there should be no problem, right?

So everybody goes to the Ranch, there is no problem at the door, or what have you. Everyone cointinues the merriment and purchases their drink. It is only AFTER everyone has paid their money and is drinking that the bouncer decides that he recognizes my friend from the night before and wants him to leave the bar. Okay, if you are pissed, that is fine, but don't let us all come in and spend our money if you are going to be a dick about letting one of our group in. That is shady. (Not that there is much about the Ranch that ISN'T shady at this point...)

So, whatever. We all finish our beer while he leaves with the bouncer. Once outside our young friend is trying to appologise to a man who is--in some unclear way--associated with the bar. Yadda yadda yadda, the young man can't remember even being at the Ranch the night before, so we start to ask questions about why he is being asked to leave, etc.

One thing leads to another and the bouncer and manager dude(?) strike their tough-guy poses, thus eliciting laughter and derision from the assembled group. Mind you, we are now outside on the public sidewalk...in fact we were actually in front of the establisment next door to the bar. None the less, rather than just letting us be on our own outside the proprieters decide to call the police. Not wanting that we decide to move on our merry way to another bar. Evidently not satisfied with this the manager(?) dude(?) decides it is his civic duty to follow us down the street commenting on how much trouble we are in. Keep in mind that three of the four in the group were not even asked to leave the bar, we left of our free will. But whatever, he begins making fun of us, poking fun at clothes, etc. and we just continue to laugh at him.

I think the peak came when this little guy followed us into ANOTHER BAR. I decided that he had overstepped the bounds of decency and stopped to talk to him. He walked into me and bounced backwards...decides to shove me for that and asks if I'm "getting tough". I gently reminded him that I was standing still when he walked into me AND that we are now three blocks away inside another bar, and he backed off. So johnny tattletale decides he cannot let this go, even though the cops never showed up at the Ranch, so he runs out to main street and flags down a passing police car and "tells on us". Whatever, we laugh it off, the cops laugh it off, and the two employees from the ranch are still douche bags. That's life. Long story short...or shortER, we're not allowed to go back to this bar. And that's fine.

-A.R. Leith

Quote: "There's nothing worse than being in a crowded room and feeling all alone." - The Impossibles.

What up, Dawg!?

2005-09-28T06:36:00.000-07:00

Well gang, fall has...sprung? That's not the right word, but it's the first word that comes to mind. Autumn is my favorite time of year, by far. The leaves are changing/falling, it's raining, and it's about time to find that someone to cuddle up with for the long winter. Not to mention the fact that you should probably be putting on those few extra pounds for the season so that you can face those harsh Midwestern winters. That means plenty of Pizza and Ice Cream.

Of course, that is not true. I am in the process of trying to lose 45 lbs. by Christmas. An unrealistic goal, I know, but the fact is what's the point of setting goals if the target is too low. There would be no sense of achievement. Okay, I have to go to class right now. I just wanted to let everyone know that I think everything is awesome right now and I hope you all feel the same. Word.

-A.R. Leith

Quote- "I'm not coming back. I'm over feeling sorry, so just deal with it. Find comfort in yourself, and know that what you have's not what you are." - Midtown

If There Were Any Justice in the World at All, There Would Be a God-damn 7-11 Around When I Want a Slurpee.

2005-09-17T17:31:00.000-07:00

That is all.

-A.R. Leith

Quote: "Lately I've been feeling dead inside; like my guts have dried up and died. But every night, I water them back to life."- Alkaline Trio

Dumber than a Bag of Dicks

2005-09-16T08:25:00.000-07:00

Lately a lot of things have come to my attention that are both figuratively and literally "dumber than a bag of dicks". And I will talk about them at length, but first:

I would like to give big ups to the wonderful young lady who introduced me to the above-mentioned phrase. It never ceases to make me laugh, either for the people/situations it describes or the mental imagery it offers. So, thanks, El Dub. Both for the quote, and just for being you.

Alright, this one is probably going to get lengthy, because I haven't typed in a while, I have a morning to kill, and I am trying not to turn on the television. So get out your spectacles kids!

Number One- Picking your fights. (There is some saying about picking your friend's noses that I think might apply here, but probably not.) Personally, I think there are a lot of kids who are upset about the wrong kinds of things on my college campus. There is a local resort for skiing, known as Wolf Creek. At present there is a plan on the table for said ski area to be expanded into a sort of destination resort for the rich and famous. There is a coalition of locals who have come out against this project. That's just fine, I get it, right now Wolfie is a small ski area with great terrain that is very "local-oriented" and it has its charm. What I don't understand is why it takes some impingement on their valued free time activity to motivate the young people today to be upset about irresponsible civic expansion in the region.

Let's face it, Durango is a bit of a dump. For all the money being poured into development in the area there is a lot of shitty real estate that is going un-improved. If I were to be mad about anything involving development I would show a little outrage at the fact that there are many houses--particularly on the south side of downtown--that are barely fit for human habitation. However, because knocking down these homes to make way for newer affordable housing is less profitable for builders they would rather just raze previously untouched tracks of land and throw up a quickie development. (I'm not even going to get started on the quality of construction in the region right now...) Fuck these builders. For a town that claims to love the wilderness there sure isn't much resistance to destroying it. Alls I'm saying is that concentrated urban renewal seems more responsible than outward expansion. On the other hand the people here love the wilderness and seem to hate each other, and can't stand being close to other people. So it's a dilemma.

One solution that I like, and I think might have a chance, is for the college to buy up houses in town and use them for housing for upper level students. Word on the street is that Fort Lewis has plenty of money for acquisition and building, just not a lot for upkeep. Maybe the bulk of students throwing some rent their way would help out both the city and the school. I don't know.

Number Two- I went to see that movie, The Aristocrats, last night. There was very little actually funny about the whole thing. Oh, there was a lot of laughing, but it was more that nervous laughter when someone says something so horrible you cannot help but laugh, otherwise you might throw up a little bit in your mouth. There were three things that I found genuinely funny in the movie, though. 1. When Eric Cartman was telling the joke and enumerating the participants he used his fingers, which I found amusing because he was wearing mittens. It didn't make a lot of sense, but was cute. 2. An aging Eric Idle wondering aloud why the joke works at all in America, because there are no Aristocrats in the U.S. First of all, BURN. Second of all, it's kind of true because many Americans are dumber than bags of dicks and probably only like the joke because it has dirty words in it. 3. There was some discussion about how the sexual and scatalogical content of the joke just do not cut it anymore, so in order to continue to shock the audience new and horrible references must be included. So, to my mind, the funniest thing said in the movie was when Taylor Negron reminded us that we should not forget the terrible events of January 3rd...when he left his Visa card at the Four Seasons. It was refreshingly funny amongst the filth.

Number Three- I have started reading again. Time consuming, I know, but it also means that there will be a lot of stuff for YOU, dear reader, to process here once I have processed it in my little head. So, I read this morning that there is a not-so-new problem facing the city of Chicago. Apparently the Chicago Housing Authority (CHA)--when they are not too busy worrying about people's back porches--is systematically eliminating low-income houses with no positive change for the former residents. The interesting question, I think, that is raised by this is the fact that these people are being moved out of segregated communities into other segregated communities or neighborhoods. Now, it's no secret that Chicago is one of the most segregated cities in the U.S., but what is the alternative. I haven't yet come down on either side of this issue yet, because there are pros and cons both ways.

Of course, you could continue business as usual, sweeping the problem under the rug and turning a blind eye to poverty and blight. OR, you could relocate these people by interspersing them into established communities. There are problems either way. In the former case chances for advancement remain limited, schooling is sub-par, and only the scenery changes. However, there is safety and comfort in groups. If the people of the low-income areas were moved into random houses and apartments around the city would their lot be any better? Should the CHA be responsible should their new neighbors treat them badly? Would the simple act of the move really offer any chance at betterment, or would it accentuate the problem? Like I say, I am not making any statements one way or the other, just sort of thinking out loud about the situation. If I am going to someday save the world these are the problems I will need to have figured out, right?

Number Four- Evidently in Columbia the Coca Cola company is implicitly involved in the terrorization, intimidation, and sometimes assassination of attempted unionizers by paramilitary groups. This has prompted several colleges and universities here in the States to boycott Coca Cola on the campus. Not that the kids should be drinking that much soda anyway--it's not good for you...Rots the teeth. I don't really know how to feel about this. These sort of tactics certainly don't seem to be limited to the soda (or "pop", if you prefer) bottling industry. And overall it presents a problem for my overall ideology on globalization. Namely that I think economic expansion is just fine, and will be kept in check if the people of developing nations stand up for themselves and do not work for cheap wages. That way companies can expand their markets and improve profits without abusing human rights. The introduction of force and coercion into the situation kind of puts a kink in my theory. It is kind of a Catch 22. As the book says, "Catch 22 means that they can do whatever we cannot stop them from doing."

I also think that arbitrary growth rates set by corporations are unrealistic and greedy. Making a good product at a decent price while treating your employees well seems much more beneficial to society as a whole to me. But what to I know, I study English which is basically another way for saying that I am in a very expensive book club. I guess I just want everyone to be happy for a while before they inevitably shuffle off the mortal coil. I think the re-introduction of the middle-class to the wild would allow a lot more people to be happy without amassing so much shit that just goes to waste in the end.

Finally- Whatever the case may be, I think I may be an idealist, but I am also a realist. I am also a "happy-go-lucky-misanthrope". I might also be a socialist. I just want everyone to get-on and have a good time of it. With that in mind I have to allow myself every day, in every way, to be keen to give-'er. Things can get pretty muddled pretty quickly, you just have to make the best of it and not be afraid to draw some lines.

Okay, enough moralizing...especially from a kid who's barely holding it together lately, right? I'll let you go, but still send me any topic ideas you want me to write on. I like to hear, and hopefully offer some different views on the world...

-A.R. Leith

Quote- "Andy, you have a very tenuous grasp on reality." -My dear Ma

Honestly

2005-09-13T12:58:00.000-07:00

I don't really think I have anything worth writing about lately.

If anyone has anything they want to hear opined or griped about, you just let me know. Depending on how interested I am we could have another volume on a very insignificant subject. Just try me. I love to express my opinion about anything and everything. Even if said opinion is needlessly strict or angry. I think it's just fun. Go.

-A.R. Leith

Ten and Two

2005-09-05T08:16:00.000-07:00

During my overwhelming course load this morning (remedial math from 8-8:55) I had a moment. Not the sort of shared moment that one has when they realize they are looking into the eyes of the person they want to spend the rest of their life with for the first time, but rather the type of epiphany that makes sense and order out of some belief or behavior with roots in our childhood.

The instructor of my class was likening the fundamentals of Algebra to that time in a young person's life when they are just learning to operate a motor vehicle. The idea being that going slowly and with caution in the very beginning would, indeed, be germane. While that may be true for mathematics it made my brain race backwards to the actual time when I was learning to drive.

I tend to get, well, frustrated with a lot of people who are on the road at the same time as me. When I am back home I hardly have any instances of this frustration. While there is a vast difference in the way that people drive between Chicago and Durango my anger with the situation did not really make any sense until this morning. I know full well that the pace of life in general in Durango is much slower than a lot of other cities and towns, that is a given. How else would you be able to justify everyone's acceptance of a nearly non-existent public transportation system? People here just don't seem to need, or want, to be anywhere in a hurry. And that is fine. That is mountain life and it is why many people have moved here in the first place. (My one exception to this forgiveness is when people feel that this means that their word--eg. saying you will be somewhere and not showing up, or showing up late--does not mean what it should. There is never any excuse for being inconsiderate or impolite, no matter how 'relaxed' the town you live in is.)

So why, then, do I become so anxious behind the wheel when I have to drive in the state of Colorado? I'll tell you why. It is because of my first day in driver's education class. (By the way, I am pretty sure that they do not teach parallel parking in Colorado's drivers ed.) My first time behind the wheel of a car was sometime in the fall of 1994 I believe. I was the first one in my group of three to get out on the roadways, and as I turned the Toyota Corolla onto southbound Willow Springs Road the 'behind the wheel' instructors first words of advice to me as a young driver were, "You'd better pick it up. People will not like you if you drive too slow."

"People will not like you if you drive too slow." What kind of psychology does that give a youngster? Am I to understand that my social standing will be hindered if I do not keep pace with the other cars on the road? As a sidebar, anyone not familiar with driving in Chicago--and probably any other large metropolitan area--should probably be aware that on the highway there 20 miles per hour over the speed limit is pretty much standard procedure for everyday driving. It is terrifying and exhilarating all at once. It is because of this driving history that any posted speed limit seems to me about right for the minimum speed to be driven. This is why I am often baffled and angered by people who lolligag around town going several miles below the posted speed limit while I, a very busy person with things to do and people to see, am stuck behind them because passing lanes are limited and oncoming traffic also seems not to care about my schedule. Also, as young drivers we had it on good authority (somebody's uncle or father or something) that the police in Chicago were not going to pull you over if you were only going 10mph over the limit, because the fine was small, and therefore a waste of time and paperwork. I just thought it was odd this all flashed into my head during math. That's all.

It is worth noting that if you drive in the Pacific Northwest you will feel like a wanted criminal if you drive just the speed limit. Those people evidently don't have much going on in their days and see no problem with routinely traveling at ten mph below the posted limits on the highway, God bless them.

-A.R. Leith

Quote: "When you're smiling, the whole world smiles with you."- Louis Prima

Education Schmeducation

2005-09-01T00:06:00.000-07:00

I've been told, yet again, that I do not 'blog' enough. I don't know what to say other than, sorry. I'm not made of time, you know. Sometimes I have to sleep and stuff.

Anyway...

The other day I was playing tennis against my roommate at one of the local tennis facilities. (Where better to play, right?) On the next court over there was a young acquaintance of my roommate and they conversed briefly. Now, this young man was playing with two young women. I shall not speculate as to their relationship, other than to say that they may have been brother and sisters or similar. That is not the point. Not the point at all...

These young people spoke very properly. In this day and age it is rare to hear a young person speaking properly. That is why it took me only two guesses to discover how they came to be so well spoken. My first question, obviously, was whether or not this threesome had immigrated from Canada. It's a logical question, I think. Aside from the "Ehs", the "Oots" and "Aboots" Canadians are generally well disciplined speakers. Much more so than American English speakers who have somehow found it in their hearts to include words like "ain't" in the dictionary even though it is a wholly bastardized version of the words are and not or is and not. Frankly, it doesn't even really make sense as a word. But god bless the American soft-hearts who could no less turn out the lowly "ain't" than they could find it in themselves to throttle a three legged puppy.

They were not, and continue not to be, from Canada.

My second guess as to their diction was home schooling. Spot on. I was so right that I might have given myself an elevated hand-slap if that were at all an acceptable social practice. The simple fact that this guess was correct says a lot about the modern school system here in America. You may rant all you want about underfunding of schools and whatnot, but the simple fact is that if a kid cannot cut it they should not pass a grade. People should never graduate grade school--let alone high school--without a working knowledge of the world around them. That includes mathematics, language, science, etc. It is not like most jobs that people end up with these days really require much else from you than showing up and sitting still for a predetermined amount of time anyway. (I actually think that the requirement of a college degree for so many jobs these days is more a form of classist discrimination against those who are self taught or cannot afford higher education than it is a necessity to perform the duties required of the position. But that is a topic for a time when I am able to write more.)

At any rate, I feel that schools in America have lowered the target so low that it is impossible to miss the mark. In fact, there is no way I should have graduated high school with the effort I put into my work. Schools are more diploma mills than houses of serious education these days, and that is disheartening.

Okay, that's it for tonight. I have more homework to attend to.

-A.R. Leith

Quote: "Only wimps cannot handle broken hearts."- Piebald

P.S.- The blog spell-check wanted me to replace the word 'classist' with the word 'classiest'. I thought that was kind of funny.

Okay...

2005-08-23T23:12:00.000-07:00

Evidently in my last blog what I said was not exactly "'nuff".

Tore, would indicate that something had been rent asunder. Made unwhole.

Taint, on the other hand is the area of the human body that resides between the anus and the gender specific equipment--either vagina or the cock and bawls. Sometimes it is referred to as "
the gooch" but that makes me think of the bully on Different Strokes, and that is not a pleasant thought.

At any rate, the other day I was walking at work and felt a good deal of discomfort in my general taint area and am now concerned that there may be some tearing in that region. That is really all anyone needs to know about the goings on in that space, other than to remember to keep yours talc-ed when the hot weather comes around...it can be a lifesaver.

Word.

-A.R. Leith

Ouch

2005-08-22T19:22:00.000-07:00

I think I tore my taint at work.

Nuff said.

-A.R. Leith

Fatalist View of Professional Baseball

2005-08-14T21:05:00.000-07:00

Tonight I watched the Cardinals of Saint Louis take on the Cubs of Chicago in a professional baseball competition. The Cubs won, by the way, but that is bound to happen once in a while when you enter in as many sports contests as they do each year. At any rate, my mother was wondering during the game how they were able to get the balls and strikes on the scoreboard so quickly. Although, I suppose this all bears some explaining...

The Cubbies are an oldey-timey ball club with an oldey-timey stadium (it was built in 1918 or somesuch). The scoreboard is likewise long in the tooth and still manually operated. There are guys inside who change the numbers and all the intricate business that this involves. Speaking of- to be the man inside the scoreboard is my new dream job.

Okay, back to the story. So when a pitch is made in Wrigley it is rare that you have a chance to look up to the board before the balls and strikes have changed. It is like magic. So my mother sez to me she sez,
"How do they change the numbers so fast? It hardly seems there is time between the pitch and the numbers changing on the board." To which I replied, "They have a script."

It got me thinking about fatalism. But then I decided not to. It is boring and kind of depressing. I mean doesn't it seem like there isn't really a point if everything we do is predestined on some level? You could try to fight it, but even that would have been on your slate from the start. There is no getting around it. Even the balls, strikes, hits, walks, and outs in a baseball game. What would be the point if someone somewhere knows what will happen...has actually laid out every thing that will happen throughout your existence. I just think it might be best not to think about it is all.

Plus, if the whole scoreboard job doesn't work out somehow I think I might become a 'talent scout' for them girls gone wild picture-shows they advertise on the television.

Speaking of, I would like to let slip here on this blog that Wrigley Field is the best looking ballpark ever. Of course, this is because of all the stadium features that are now part of baseball lore. The ivy, the scoreboard, Harry Carey, yadda yadda... But more importantly the fans at this particular ballpark are a good looking bunch. In a summer when I have gone to three ballparks and watched many many games on the TV there is no crowd as attractive as the one to be found in the Friendly Confines. Seattle had nothing but a bunch of underprivileged kids or some shit like that and fat people. I'm not even going to get started on the people at the minor league park I went to. And when they show fan shots at other parks on the television there seem to be a lot of dudes and heffers. Oh, I'm sure they all have wonderful personalities and contribute positively to society, but c'mon. When I go to Wrigley I really feel like I'm dragging down the average looks-wise. 3/4 of the crowd are good looking twentysomethings and it makes going to the ballpark so much more enjoyable. Especially when they dress well.

Okay, I'm sleepy. Screw all of you. I hope someone is actually reading this shit.

-A.R. Leith

"You tell me that my problem is thinking...I can chase it away with a problem like drinking."- The lawrence arms

The world according to Leith

2005-08-05T13:22:00.000-07:00

Arguably, there is something soothing in the idea of knowing how you are going to die. If not the actual method of your own demise, at leas the manner in which you would like the days immediately following to proceed.

I was lying in bed this afternoon, ironically reading the epilogue of a very good novel that dealt heavily with death, when the the wafting sounds of Amazing Grace being played on the bagpipes. Whenever I envision my own funeral (which is more often than it probably should be) I imagine good times and bagpipes. Not good times in the sense that there will be no sadness, but more in tune with a celebration of life-well-lived than a lamentation of what could have been. I always, ALWAYS, imagine there to be bagpipes, and a rousing good time of an afterparty. Of course, this is all speculation; or should be.

The problem that I run into is that when envisioning my own funeral it is almost always in the near future. I have never thought of it as being something that happens when I am very old, and where most of the people I know who would attend are very old. In and of itself this doesn't bother me too much, mostly because I have trouble imagining what the future will be like, and have all my life. It's not just the distant future that I have trouble picturing, but the immediate future as well. Perhaps that is also at the root of my trouble with financial planning and that lot. Who knows.

Recently I have been told by a professor that she had a previous vision of many of the events in her life. So, should I simply ignore my current visions of having a memorial service peopled with young, fresh, grieving faces; or should I take heed and maybe prepare myself to shuffle off the mortal coil a little earlier than some others? The truth is that I just don't know. This topic is linked, in a way, to another problem that I am facing in life, right now.

I want to be a writer. Whether or not it shows here I believe that I could be a good writer--with the proper editing. The problem, it would seem, is that I just don't really have anything to write about. I lack experience. The kind of life experience that makes for the stuff of great books. Somehow I need to get out into the world and start living, so that I can have something to write about...In order to provide for the family that I hope to one day have. But here's the rub: I feel stuck in a rut. To me, there is no foreseeable way out of the cycle of working, paying bills, and generally trying to survive. I have considered squatting, which would probably give me something to write about, but it does not jell with my sense of working for a living. I guess the only way I can think about it right now is to find a sugar momma, or some sort of benefactor, who will suport me in adventures to travel around so that I will have something to write about. Other than that I suppose I just have to get my ass out there and try to find stuff to write about. I suppose I could write novels, because you can just make those up and loosely base them on real life. Maybe I'll work on having one of those out by the time I'm 30. I mean, it worked for that King guy. He wrote lots of books.

-A.R. Leith

Not Necessarily the News

2005-07-31T23:32:00.000-07:00

I don't know if I have written about this before, but I am going to write about it now.

I have just finished watching the local NBC news and am confused and dismayed. What is offered these days to the viewing public as news is little more than the unfortunate events that have occurred in someone else's life.

The lineup of 'stories' for this evening's program were: Minivan struck by truck running red light- two dead, minivan strikes pole while driving- three killed, car spins out on toll-road- one girl ejected; drowns, new building rivals Trump's project on lake-front, and Atkins company files for bankruptcy protection.

My problem with the 'news' is that the first three stories really do not relate to anything in my life. I feel that there is some sort of perverse voyeurism at work in modern America. What possible benefit will I earn from hearing the sordid and tragic goings on of strangers lives? To me it is mere common sense to be careful when out in the world. Is there some sort of moral to be learned from these tales of woe? Obviously, if the man in the pickup-truck was some sort of crazed-serial-red-light-runner and was part of a society of such people there would be something newsworthy in the tale. As it is, however, I do not think he set out today with the goal of t-boning a minivan full of people returning from holiday. But thanks to the fine people at channel five he has now been made a shining example of something we all know we are not supposed to do. Don't run a red light, duh, got it. Mistakes were made, true, but rehashing again and again things that we have all pretty much agreed upon as rules for a polite society is not going to get us anywhere.

My anger was furthered later in the broadcast when there were two stories (about the new lakefront tower and the Atkins bankruptcy) that I would have liked to know the five Ws about. Where, exactly, was this tower going to be built? In the picture it looks to be taller than the Sears Tower, is that the case? What will it be used for? Strictly residential, or mixed use properties? How and why did the Atkins company come to this financial crisis? Has it been coming for a long time, or was it sudden?

Perhaps I have a more insatiable thirst for knowledge than most--I am, after all, on the defending championship Snowdown trivia team--but mostly I think that the people on the television news are lazy. I long to have been born in a past generation when there was no television, or at least very little. Newspaper reporters, at least in the old days, got out there and investigated the stories that they were going to write, got the facts, and put it out there for the world to read. If you just wanted to get the basic idea of a story you could read the first few paragraphs and be sated. However, if you wanted to know more you need only read further and most of your questions would be answered.

As a lit major I may have over romanticised the role of written language in our world, but the signs are everywhere that it is dying. There have been books written on the subject...books that, sadly and paradoxically, will probably not be read by the people who need to read them. I think I just long, overall, to be part of a different time. Let me explain:

Between reading the early chapters of The World According to Garp and the fashions in the new J. Crew catalog (who I am loathe to report do not produce a big and tall men's line) I can't help but think that I might have been happier growing up during the late 40s to early 60s in prep-school New England. It could just be part of a whole 'grass is greener' business, but whatever it is the appeal is intense. There is something that seems cleaner--more simple--about that time. Not to mention the style of dress was awesome in that era. Who knows. As usual I'm probably just weird...or eccentric as some have called it. Personally I think it's endearing and it should make each and every one of you love me all the more. Ha!

-A.R. Leith

"I have a message, save your generation...from killing eachother, by sleeping in."- Jawbreaker

thursday night is the new friday night...

2005-07-28T23:33:00.000-07:00

Okay, first of all, I am a little bit tipsy. But that is to be expected, because thrusday is the new friday. Tonight I saw one of the most amazing live performances of my life. This will be short and sweet. I just wanted everyone to know that if they ever get the chance to see Lord Mike's dirty calypsonians they should absolutely leap at the opportunity. In addition to there being an amazing live show there were several things better. First, I may have been ruined forever by a calypso dancer. Something about the cute face and the her dancing had me in a trance. Other than that the entirety of the show was spent with two cute girls who were lots of fun to drink and dance with. So all in all the show was amazing. Plus, cake was served. If you can beat that I'll assert that your pants may be on fire. Okay, that's all for tonight. Later kids.

-A.R. Leith

I love Tasha!

2005-07-26T19:38:00.000-07:00

I don't know what else to say. I just plain love her. She is cute, and friendly, and has great teats. Two rows of magnificent teats. Now, if she would just stop shitting the floor we might have something.

Oh, wait. I DO know what to say! Some of you clowns only see fit to comment on my posts when I'm not writing enough of them down for your pleasure... What's up with that? When I ask for a little response I get nothing. That's pretty fucked up. But whatever, I just wanted everyone to know that I am not some sort of "trick pony" that you can get to do "tricks" or wear a "pony suit". But I will continue, because I like to write, and I have recently learned how to read, so I want to try it all out together. Yay!

Okay, as it has been a while since I've written anything here this could get pretty long. I will, therefore, break it down into little bitty bits for more fun and easy reading. Ready? Go!

One- There has been an alarming trend lately in the footwear industry--led by the folks over there at 'sketchers'--towards making every pair of sneakers on the market look like bicycle shoes. I've seen the ads on the television and, quite frankly, I am disturbed. There was once a time when shoes made for athletics were of some substance. (Actually, there was a time not too long before the time just mentioned when all athletic shoes were converse all stars, but we'll talk about that in a minute.) The advent of the modern 'dress sneaker' is distressing because of its tendency to make dressing down more socially acceptable. Nobody wears dress shoes anymore. Okay, that's not true; only women who care about how they look and businessmen wear dress shoes anymore. The only real problem I have with this is that it leads to people and events becoming less important-seeming. Nothing has much weight to it anymore, and that is sad. Plus, practically NOBODY--with the exception of some attractive mothers in cropped trousers--looks good in these shoes. They just seem odd-looking to me. Maybe it's the velcro, or whatever, but they just don't look like adult shoes. Not to mention how fem they make most men look. But that is a story for another day.

Two- Because we are discussing shoes and I have just been to the Warped Tour (never again, by the way) I would like to talk about punk-rock shoes. I would assume that, with the purchase of converse by the ubiquitous Nike corporation, that many of the punk-rock kids will have to switch over to the only other old school classic, the Vans Old Skools. However, kids who are concerned enough with the way they look, being into punk or not, will probably be pretty slow on the uptake and not know that their favorite everyday canvas shoe company is not owned by the darling of sweatshop globalization Nike. Fact is, no matter how much of a difference I used to think there was between the punkers and the 'regular' kids it's just not true. I can't say for sure if it ever was true, but I am inclined to think right now that it is not. Just because the look is 'different' does not mean that these kids care any less about the image they are projecting. So, it would seem that kids everywhere are just trying to find an identity, and that's fine, so long as you do it well. It is downright healthy, I think. Although it was said of me lately that I am dress very preppy. I am fine with that. I like the preppy look. I am disgusted, though, by the kids on that MTV show, 'My Super Sweet Sixteen'. They are far too materialistic, but I suppose must be excused because their behavior can be chalked up to capricious youth.

Three- It has been raining like a mofo here in Chicago for the last two days and I could not be happier about it. Not only do we need the moisture, but the change of weather is a blessing as well. In fact, one of the reasons for my decision to summer in the Windy City was because of the more variable climate. I was just in the Pacific Northwest and was severely let down to have nothing but clear blue skies for a week and a half. If I wanted that kind of weather I would have stayed in Durango. But here in the middle west we have had a banner week. We've gone from 102 and 103 degrees with 70% humidity over the weekend to torrential downpours on monday and tuesday. It truly is exhilarating and invigorating.

Four- For anybody who cares, I have decided today that I will be leaving Chicago on the 15th or 16th of August to return to a little mountain hamlet called Durango. I will be glad to be back, to say the least. I look forward to the slower pace of life and hopefully having a real job again. Kind of.

Okay, I'm tired of typing for now and will retire to my sleeping chamber. You should all hear back from me soon. Laters.

-A.R. Leith

Quote: "You can sit next to me; we can talk or just kiss. You can rub my palm and say 'better than this.'"- The Lawrence Arms

Oblivion and Charlie Brown

2005-07-04T18:25:00.000-07:00

There are Irish people in Chicago. Yep. No two ways about it. The Swedes settled Minneapolis (and as any drunken business traveler lounging at DIA can tell you--whether you want to hear it or not-- that is why so many there are so many good looking young women in that area), the Germans Milwaukee, and the Irish, Poles, and many Latins ended up in Chicago. However, my focus and my main purpose right now is to discuss the Irish.

Charlie Brown would lament by saying "Oh, good grief" where his little red headed girl is concerned. They are everywhere here, and soooo cute. Oblivion wrote a song about Charlie's crush on the little red headed girl, and it's a good one--and I know what they are singing about. Everywhere I look these days there is some pale girl with shockingly orange hair that I have trouble looking away from. I don't know what it is, but there is something captivating about redheads. I don't know if it is the fact that you know, somewhere deep down, that they are absolutely batshit-crazy, or if it's just because they are different from the majority. And I know, I know...it is wrong for me to even think about. Just think of the sickeningly pasty children such a union would produce. They would have to wear specially made suits to go out in the sun lest they burst into flames from exposure. I would not want to wish that on anybody, but still, I have a staring problem when it comes to a cute redhead, and it would seem there is nothing I can do about it.

On the subject of breeding--I think I should marry a petite, dark skinned, dark eyed, dark haired woman to try and counteract the genetics I will be contributing to the mix. I think it would be the only responsible course of action...you know, for the kids. Just think about it.

Sorry for doubling up on the posts today, but stuff is on my mind. Before I go I would like to shout-out (kids are still shouting-out, right?) to the folks at Nissan for putting skiers--rather than snowboarders--in their most recent ad for how Xtreme their Xterra SUV is. (Ha ha, Morgan, Xtreme!) Skiing is making a comeback...we hope. Okay, laters.

-A.R. Leith

p.s.- I think it is hilarious that Fall Out Boy named a song, "Tell that mick he just made my list of things to do today." I'm pretty sure it's a quote from something, but funnier out of context. Then again, I also think it's effin hilarious that the Dillinger Four named a song "Honey, I shit the hot-tub." So take all of this for what it's worth, right? (And last but not least, the word "effin"--see two sentences ago--is awesome because it reminds me of the beleaguered and flightless Puffin. I want a pet Puffin.)

Liar, Liar...

2005-07-04T15:05:00.000-07:00

The question has been posed, "What does one young mand need with so many pairs of shoes?"

The answer, it would seem, is that those shoes do not go with these pants. There is a problem of leg opening, coupled with breakage and overall length, that makes it necessary for different styles and sizes of shoes to be purchased in order that a pair of pants is properly accentuated. If all of these ideas are observed and, indeed, followed the result should be the maximum flattery for the wearer. Everyone wants to look good in their trousers. Anyone who says that they have no such desire is a liar; whose pants are probably in danger of catching on fire anyway.

While we are on the subject: in the event of a pants related fire I would strongly suggest against this dirty "rolling-around-on-the-ground" business that your Average-Joe-Fireman would tout. Instead the steps to be followed are: 1) Have a little chat with yourself. Ask, "how much does this really hurt?" Does the prospect of the pain--or the cessation of the pain--warrant getting dirty? If the answer is "yes" go directly to the last step. 2) Attempt to find some sort of non-flammable liquid with which to douse your trousers. Ideally, you could actually find a fire extinguisher that would work nicely (as its name would predict). 3) If no such liquid or foam retardant is not readily available, or forthcoming in the foreseeable future, you should quickly remove your pants. The reasons for this bold move are threefold a. this will help limit damage to your epidermis... b. "You can learn a lot by taking your pants off." c. "If you don't take your pants off, you'll never know if she wants to take her pants off..." 4) If all else fails I suppose it would be wise to give in to the business of mucking about on the ground to put the fire out, but you might want to explore some other avenues on your own first.

I know all of this information is truly thrilling and worthwhile to you, and that is why I write it here. However, the real reason I signed in today was to tell you all about something that happened a couple of nights ago. After having consumed a good deal of malt liquor I awoke to find myself in the bed of a hefty stranger. Anyway, long story short; I may be a father in the next 8-10 mon... wait a second, that's not the story I was going to tell. That's not even a very good story at all. Nobody wants to hear about that.

Two nights ago I attended a rock 'n' roll show at Bottom Lounge here in Chicago, IL. Alright, so three of the five bands were pretty miserable. The other two were FUCKING AMAZING. (If I knew how to underline things on this infernal machine, I would have done that too) I was taken back to a time when you could watch an entire set by a band and just be blown away by the music, the stage presence, the crowd response...everything.

I don't know if anybody who reads this blog is now, or ever was, into pop-punk, but it has been so long since I saw a good show of that variety that I had to search my memory long and hard, and only came up with two truly good examples. The two that came to mind were Chixdiggit at the Fireside Bowl (circa 2000/2001), and The Queers, Mr. T. Experience, and John Cougar Concentration Camp (a year or two earlier). To see pop-punk at its finest is to be faced with a wall of sound coming from a band who loves the music, and loves to entertain. (To clarify, we are not talking about your Blink 182, Simple Plan, Yellowcard variety punky-corporate-pop, no, we're talking about the Ramones-style snotty-gritty-three-chord-pop-punk.) The two bands that rocked the Hizze the other night were Teenage Bottlerocket (members of the Lillingtons) and The Methadones (members of Screeching Weasel, Squirtgun, The Queers).

When Teenage Bottlerocket opened up the show I was taken back to my High School days. There is something about a four man setup of Bass, Drums, and Two Guitars that just makes things seem faster and louder. It doesn't hurt when the band opens their set with everybody but the drummer standing in the rocker splits at the front of the stage, and just rocking the fuck out. Harmonies and gang vocals abound and the fists are pumping in the crowd. Everyone is as one on the floor and on the stage. A good time was had by all, I can assure you. It was so loud, and so good. It's hard to explain, so all I can say is try and see one of the following bands if you can in the near future and on a stage with a reputable sound man, and you won't be dissapointed:

Screeching Weasel
The Methadones
The Queers
The Mr. T Experience
Teenage Bottlerocket
The Riverdales

That's all I can think of right now that are still around in some form or another, I think. But yeah, no frills, no gimmicks, no bullshit. Just straight forward rock, and a good time.

I believe that is all I feel like writing today. Happy holiday, and remember to try not to fuck things up as much as our predecessors have. Thank you, and goodnight.

-A.R. Leith

Where's the Beef?

2005-06-27T21:25:00.000-07:00

There are things about us--about all of us--that cannot be hidden, no matter how hard we try. There is, perhaps, some sort of natural law that provides that deviation from instinctual behavior will end badly. It can be seen in the olde timey motto, "Oh, what a tangled web we weave when at first we practice to deceive." And, as luck would have it, that statement always has been, will, and should be true.

I know that I have stated in earlier posts just how important it is to actually pay attention to the world around you on a daily basis; both in the sense that "if you are not outraged, you are not paying attention" and in the sense that you may miss the broader trends and ideas that a myopic attitude would generally tune out. Case in point, there have been a lot of ideas bouncing in my skull (which is surprisingly thick but soft at the same time) lately that would lead one to make broad generalizations which can then be honed into finer--if only more focused--ideas. Deception, fronts, and any other misleading representation of one's self are nearly always misguided and regrettable, and yet seem omnipresent in today's society.

Being an avid people watcher I took lunch in the food court of a shopping mall today. It would seem that summer is upon us, because there was no lack of school age children whiling away their time in the air conditioned comfort of the local mall. A transgression that may be pardoned by the fact that the temperature nearly reached the century mark today here in the lovely suburbs of Chicago. Nonetheless, I was taken by the wide variety of outfits that were being sported in an effort by the masses to be "different". I am an absolute backer of the idea that anyone can wear anything that they want, so long as the clothing is age and body appropriate and pulled off with aplomb. However, I think the lengths being taken by some young people today to prove how unique they are simply looks exhausting. Perhaps it is because I feel that somewhere, deep down in my insides, I feel that there is an 84 year old grouch trying to get out. Or maybe it is my long-standing love of naps, but I just cannot imagine taking all the time to first think up some of these outfits, and then execute the purchase, organization, and dressing necessary to go out in public. I would be remiss if I was to put these people down for their habits. To dismiss them as a lesser person would be perfunctory and unfair seeing as they are quite possibly very nice, intelligent people. My argument is only that people should dress comfortably in styles that can transfer with ease through many social situations, because you never know when hanging-out-with-friends can turn into running-into-friend's-grandparents, who will be polite and tell you that you manner of dress is "unique" or "fun" but will secretly be wondering how your parents could have failed so miserably in your upbringing. Okay, I know this one is pretty much a dead horse, so I'll say only two more quick things about it. 1) When you try too hard for a "look" when dressing yourself, it usually shows. 2) Big ups to my cousin Molly for rockin' the popped-polo-collar and knowing that "if you're going to look good you have to be at least a little bit uncomfortable" is the first rule of fashion. (P.S.- I may not always look good, but I generally THINK I look good, which is often enough.)

The second part of this post is from an amalgamation of four separate things that happened recently, that crystallized in my mind the ideas that will be laid out to you, dear reader, here today. From a conversation at lunch today with a female co-worker, to the casual mention of a recent DVD release, to an article read today while lounging, to an exchange at a smoky basement bar this saturday past the idea of "faking-it" has come to the fore of my mind.

First I will tackle the barrom chat and the magazine article. I am a hairy man. I have come to terms with this. Anyone who has seen me without a shirt on can attest that I'd stand a good chance if lost in the arctic with only a pair of flannel P.J. bottoms. Of course, this is not to say that I'm happy that I am wooly, but rather that I have accepted it. It is part of my life. I didn't ask to get hair everywhere, but it was deemed that it should be so, and here I am. Until recently my prevailing thought on the subject was "ewww, gross", but recent shifts in attitudes--mostly mine--have lead me to think of it in a different light. This follicle situation is not a voluntary position I am in. Were it left up to me it would just disappear. And, of course, there are many ways to see that happen these days, I had to weigh those options against the fact that I shouldn't not have to endure the pain and financial loss necessary to achieve a smooth back simply to look like a pretty boy. I am charming, fun, smart, and witty and if a girl is going to discount me because of some unfortunate hair growth then it is probably best that I recognize that she is not the kind of woman I am in the market for anyway, right? Right. Some might call "sour grapes" on this kind of attitude and that is fine with me. Those are most likely those are the people who have just been spurned due to their own shallowness. That being said, a young woman reached down the back of my shirt and felt my back hair in a bar the other night. Whether she was disgusted or not is unknown to me, because the acted with grace and tact by not freaking out one way or the other. The world needs more people like that. As a final note on this bit here, I'll ask again for comments to be posted here--this time by the ladies only--stating your opinions on back hair, or hair in general, being a dealbreaker. Do not let anything I have said sway you, be honest and open, because life is more fun that way. Thanx.

The other part of being yourself that has me thinking today is the idea of acting differently than you instinctively would in any given situation. Obviously there are exceptions to this idea, such as farting at black-tie affairs, and really anything where manners should come first, but people should also try to represent themselves as true to form as they can in every day life, I think. While dining today with a female co-worker the subject of the behavior of young men came up. In asking my advice it was related that, having insisted upon this young woman taking his phone number he failed to return the ensuing call. I tried to offer advice, but the best I could do was suggest the way that I would find most humorous if accosted by a woman whom I had failed to call back. It occurred to me that this would be the natural response from the kind of girl I find interesting, but it might not be my friends automatic way of handling things. As a clarification, the way I told her to approach the young man was to say "Way to call me back, DICK!", an answer that I would find charming in its roughness, but perhaps would not work on other men. The point being that sometimes suggestions do not offer answers, and that people are better of going with their own true-blue inclinations rather than what others suggest or what they think someone else would expect. Honesty IS the best policy, so DON'T have a different act for different groups of friends or acquaintances but DO know how to handle yourself in myriad social situations--this includes being polite and charming, no matter what.

Okay, I think that's all for now. I'm really sleepy, but everybody should really get back to me on that back-hair thing. I really do want to know, and it is as easy as clicking on the little comment button at the bottom of this post. It won't take a second, and you'll barely feel a thing.

-A.R. Leith

Suggestions for today: If anybody finds themselves with a little spare time and they don't want to spend it helping me apply depillatory cream to my back they should check out these two essays that I have read lately that made me laugh out loud. The first one is by David Sedaris and is (I think) called "Six to Eight Black Men", and the other is by Dave Eggers called "Your Mother and I". Both are good, and funny, so turn off the goddamn TV for an hour and read something. Thank you, and goodnight.

There is no way I am having "Sponge Bob" in the house of GOD!

2005-06-26T09:13:00.000-07:00

Did you ever notice how sometimes life seems just a little bit brighter on mornings when you are hung-over? Some of the brightness is for more obvious reasons, like you forgot your sunglasses, and there is a giant ball of burning gas hanging in the sky, intent on doing you harm in a variety of ways. But there are other, more subtle, sorts of fun that come as pleasant surprises when your brain takes a little time for itself, and these will be enumerated here:

1. I woke up this morning...in a living room...on a couch...with a cute girl on the adjacent loveseat. I am in no way intoning that anything "sordid" happened between this lovely young lady and me, but rather stating that it is always nice to wake up in the same room with attractive people. Simple as that. It is especially helpful when you have recently consumed large quantities of malt liquor. Basically, my brain hurts this morning.

2. As I was gingerly making my way to the red-line this morning I happened upon a father and two small children standing in the doorway to their townhome. Ordinarily this situation would not have been all that amusing, except that the little boy in this family DID NOT want to go to church. He was trying to bring toys with him. A stance that I completely understand, because church is boring. It is like those classes where they have you read every page of the textbook and then lecture directly-out-of-the-textbook. Those classes are not fun. At any rate, the debate culminated with the father beginning to count (Does anybody else remember counting? That used to put the fear in me something fierce when I was a youngster.) and declaring "There is no way I am having 'sponge bob' in the house of god!" Which was made even more amusing by his thick Chicago accent.

3. McMotherfuckingGriddles! (Mike, buddy, you wanna stop?) I had some time to kill in Union Station this morning, and decided to indulge in the bit of bowel-flushing sin that is McDonald's breakfast. Feeling daring and more than a little loopey after my morning stroll in the summer sun I opted for the number nine breakfast...baconeggandcheese McGriddles, hashbrowns, OJ. Now, I have long been opposed to the McGriddles--mostly based on the seemingly arbitrary pluralization--and I figured that if you are going to slander something on a near daily basis you ought to at least "know your enemy" as they say. Needless to say, I feel dirty. Like I might need a long bath and absolution from a priest to get over my morning meal. Fuckingsyrupflavoredminipancakesandwich! Whoever invented this little gem should be stoned. (And not in the "hey man you want to play frisbee" sense, more in the "you have just blasphemed in early C.E. Rome" sense.) Just like I believe that catty women are the reason that a lot of young women hate themselves, and each other--well, that and shallow controlling men, but men like that are douche bags anyway--I similarly believe that McGriddles and their ilk are the reason that so many Americans are grotesquely overweight. I hate fat people. And being one, that takes a good dose of self-loathing to admit, but it's true. It is a lifestyle bred of laziness, that people should not be let off the hook for, being fat is not a disease any more than any other voluntary activity. Generally these activities are the path of least resistance, but that is hooey. That's right, hooey!

4. This is the last one--I promise. Today is gay pride parade day here in the Windy City and, while I didn't go to the parade itself per se, I did get to see some of the people who would be there as they were getting off the train this morning on their way to the festivities. So, it was a parade of sorts for me. I think it is kind of odd that I immensely enjoy watching people celebrate, but rarely enjoy celebrating myself. But it did a lad good to see all the people in full party mode this morning. Although, I don't know that so many people should have been so drunk at 10 in the morning. I think that having to set an alarm to start drinking might be one of the early signs that "you have a problem". Unless, of course, it is the last day of the ski season...so I guess everyone has their "thing".

-A.R. Leith

p.s.- Most "peasant shirts" look like maternity wear on almost all women, so take it easy ladies, I don't care what any of the major labels are doing, it's just a bad idea. But that's just one man's opinion (if you don't count Eric, Suzanne, and some other people, who seem to share the same opinion.) Thank you, and goodnight.

In Addition

2005-06-24T20:50:00.000-07:00

Apparently my mother got wind of the subject of today's earlier blog entry and wanted everyone to know that she, too, had a prodigeous day on the procelain. I don't know if people are going to be sad or happy about this. Most likely the emotions will be disgust, apathy, or pity, but whatever. I just want to say that sometimes it is good to go out for the evening with your family and have a good session of coctails. We only went to four bars and one house tonight, but everyone seemed to enjoy themselves.

Also I would like to mention that the temperature has crested the mid-nineties here this week, and I have had to re-incarnate a long lost tradition. Living in the "high desert" and the mountains has lead to a very low moisture lifestyle for me, where lotion is a daily application. However, being in the middle west--with it's infamous humidity--I was forced to talc up this afternoon. It is really a wonderful thing that everyone should try if they are ever faced with humid conditions in their life. It gives everything a much more loose and freewheeling atmosphere, and I think more ladies were checking me out tonight than ever before. Okay, ta ta.

-A.R. Leith

My Buttocks; Supple They Are Not...

2005-06-24T10:18:00.000-07:00

Everybody poops. In fact, I think there is even a book by that title. But the fact is that I had to take a deuce this morning. That fact, taken on its own, is no great shakes I assure you. However, I had been a little backed up lately--a situation that I feel contributed to my recent bout of lower back pain. So, here's the recipe that always helps me in this situation:

1- 20oz. Cafe Mocha (double espresso)
2- Packets of instant oatmeal (cooked and stirred)
1- Qt of water
Mix all of these ingredients liberally in your stomach. But be sure you don't have plans for an hour or so afterwards, unless you don't concern yourself with feeling shame when defecating in your trousers. There is a bubbling sensation and everything is ready. Find yourself a sanitary porcelain mount, and go to town. Be sure to have plenty of two-ply, reading material, and a shower ready. Ta-Da!

Okay, that was kind of gross. Wasn't that gross? I think that was gross. I can't believe we just talked about it. Actually, to be fair I can absolutely believe that I typed it, but I cannot believe that YOU read it. What are you, some kind of fecalpheliac?

So, the real reason that I felt like writing today came to me when I was done with all that ugly business. I was attempting to re-assemble my outfit (which is stunning, today, by the way) and my short-pants were not cooperating. I would position them above my backside, and then quickly try to button them at the front. However, gravity and my near complete lack of a glutius conspired against me, to the point that it tood several tries before I was able to fasten the waistband.

My problem was first brought to my attention when I was pounced upon from behind in a dark concert hall by a long-time friend who was able to recognize me because, as she opined, I "have no butt". I don't really think that is a fair assessment, because I certainly have the proper muscles and there is not a simple void where the butt should be. My gluts are just on the smallish side. For this, I blame my parents. Genetics are everything in becoming a well rounded individual with a fabulously think back-side. My parents have given me everything I needed to become the man of the nineties that I am today, save for a luscious money maker. I do not really lament this, but at times it does make it uncomfortable to sit for extended periods.

I think that is all for now, but I will leave you with a list of things to think about:
1. I would make-out with Lisa Bonet (Circa The Cosby Show)
2. Artificial banana flavoring makes my skin crawl. I'm serious, it makes me want to go out and kill at night.
3. When I grow up I want to be a fire truck.
4. I want everyone who reads this to comment with a simple yes, or no, as to whether they would read a book if I wrote it, and somehow got it published. You know, just a collection of essays about everyday life. That would be fun, I think. So, please, comment.
5. Is it wrong that lately I find myself attracted to some women who are a decade my seniors?

-A.R. Leith

No Small Wonder?

2005-06-22T07:56:00.000-07:00

As the judge would say, "Well, I was able to sit up and take nourishment today, so that's good." That being said I think the way these kids are going today is right down the toidy. I'm serious goddamnit, don't laugh!

Currently I am living on a block where there are no less than 15 kids at or below high school age. Now, in and of itself there is no problem with this--you know how the trends go with swinging age demographics in various neighborhoods--the kids are just fine as living breathing organisms. The first problem is that I am pretty sure that these kids are not getting enough sleep. I sleep...I think it is a well known fact by now that I am a man who enjoys a nap. The problem is that these kids, these lovable skamps, they DO NOT SLEEP! Eight in the morning is evidently time to run around screaming and jumping through sprinklers and whatnot. Then at nine or so I think they give up the auspices of playing and just stand below my bedroom window and yell a lot. You would not believe the vocabulary on these youngsters...like sailors they are. It's Ef this, and GD that. They're adorable, but terribly blasphemous. No one can take the lords name in vein quite like the youngest of the bunch who recently asserted that "with god as his witness" he was going to "fornicate" his older brother "with an iron rod to within an inch of his life." Touching, really.

My only solace is that the catholic gradeschool behind me is out for the summer and the all afternoon kickball games have come to an end. Naptime is safe, for the time being. I'm sure you are all pretty happy about that. I know I am.

Aaaaanyway, on to the reason for this here entry being written-
(Does it bother anyone that I used "this here" to describe the entry being written? Is it too colloquial?) (In addition to that, and recognizing the impropriety of immediately sequential parenthetical side-bars, I just got a whiff of myself and I friggin reek. My underarms have gone somewhere south of fresh, and that is not a happy time. I know nobody should really care about that--except maybe Kristen, for the obvious and previously discussed reasons--but I wanted to put everyone in the same frame of mind that I have been enjoying this morning. Namely, underslept, scared for the future, and a little stinky.) (Oh my, I got really far off track there, didn't I? I'll try harder to stay focused in the next paragraph, I promise.)

Okay, the reason I am scared for the future of america is thus: I turned on the television to some program on the Nickelodeon called "Lazy Town". The reason I titled this entry "No Small Wonder" is because I was feeling nostalgic for the good old days when there was good wholesome programming about families who adopt little girl robots, from whom we could all learn a lesson about innocence, caring, and understanding--and sometimes cheating at little league (but that is neither here nor there). Her name was Vicky, and she wore a little red dress. For many of us she was the first practical proof that Artificial Intelligence was not just some far fetched dream. That Haley Joel Osmet (sp?) is just a johnny-come-lately, and did his best work in a touching movie about senior citizens in their declining years and a pet lion. Back in my day we had Sesame Street, and I'm not talking about this borderline brain damaged Street of the modern era where they try and get kids to eat cheese and veggies by having a bilingual man and a red sock puppet (who by all accounts seems to suffer from adult infantilism). I'm talking about back-in-the-day when we had Guy Smiley, and the Count. The Motherfucking Count! The Count was pretty much the Sam Jackson of our youth and all he did was count things. What a pimp. Although I still feel that the muppets was a superior program. Where else could you find a pig spoofing Star Wars, and Sylvester Stalone singing "Let's Call the Whole Thing Off" in duet with a Lion muppet? Nowhere, that's where.

These days the kids are watching some business where plasticised pre-teens (and one real pre-teen) solve problems caused by some subterranean super-villain and their "superhero" friend (who seems to have no super powers other than the ability to jump and do the splits at the same time, and to get super stuck in super stupid situations that the kids have to save him from). Today's lesson is that we--and by "we" I mean the youth today, even though I know this show is not directed at me--can save the day if we use teamwork. They had to save this mustachioed-so-called-Sparticus-super-hero-type because he had become dislodged from his own "super airship". Not since the nineteen forties has anybody thought it a good idea for a person who has designs on saving the day to pilot a zeppelin. Deridgables are not known for their speed, quickness, or maneuverability as a general rule. At any rate, when I turned the show on this character had somehow found himself overboard and was dangling from some sort of landing platform at the bottom of his airship. Luckily the kids were able to save the day by teaming up and using a soccer ball, the mayor, a frisbee, a golf club, and apple, a ping pong paddle, and a baseball bat in a classic frisbee opens box of soccer balls-one of which gets kicked by the mayor-to knock an apple out of a tree-which is chipped to ping pong paddler-who relays the apple to the batter-who hits a long drive to the dangling superhero-who then eats it giving him the energy to climb up and drive home. Seriously, the mayor is the only believable character in this little show. I cannot imagine what the kids are supposed to be learing from this outfit. The first time some kid tries to pass thier friend an apple using either a baseball bat OR a golf club they will learn VERY quickly that the only results this will produce will start with A and rhyme with wapple sauce. And in closing I would like to mention that this show was sponsored by neither a letter nor a number. Although it was thankfully devoid of "monsters" who have become obsessed with baked goods.

-A.R. Leith

p.s.- I would like to leave you all with a bit of christmasy summer advice in the form of a quote: "Deck the halls with drunken folly!"- The Lawrence Arms

Goddamnit!

2005-06-12T16:30:00.000-07:00

Okay, I had just written a very lengthy, and if I do say so myself entertaining, blog entry that was sure to delight. However, because sometimes technology works against us, like in Jurassic Park, when I went to spell check the popup blocker wouldn't allow it. So I tried a different route. The entry was completely lost. And I'm telling you, this was a REALLY good blog entry. I found myself laughing out loud as I wrote it, so if you feel you have been slighted (and you should) I would suggest writing an angry letter to whoever these clown shoes are the make things more difficult instead of easy. Oh, and also punch whomever decided that "pop-ups" were a good idea right in the kisser. Because without that asshole the "pop-up blocker" whould have even entered into it. Well fuck all...the main idea of the blog that I don't have time to rewrite now, but will get to when I have a chance was that I'm a little concerned that I might be a letcherous pervert, and that Mike and Sadie are lovely people who will undoubtedly have a long and happy life together, so happy day to them, and many more to come. Pisser! (Not to mike and sadie, to computers, bah!)

-A.R. Leith

p.s.- I don't know if this is a fluke, but every time I go to a wedding lately I get the song "not that kind of girlfriend" by the smoking popes stuck in my head. I wish someone would give it a listen and tell me if it is my psyche trying to tell me something. Werd.

The other side of the coin-

2005-06-04T06:48:00.000-07:00

It has been said by many a person that "what you dislike in others is what you dislike in yourself." That being said I think the reason I call "bullshit" on so many people--and the reason I can tell that people are being fake or insincere--is because I myself often feel like I am insincere. I alter my behaviour to be suitable to the situation I am in. I do this because of what I view as a sense of propriety. There is a time and a place for cutting loose and being free, but there is also a time and a place to recognize that you are part of a society with a substructure of guidelines and rules which, if they were ignored all the time, would lead to a sort of chaos. Essentially, I believe in society. I believe in culture, and propriety (even though it doesn't always show.) Understanding that about myself makes me want others around me to know how to behave/act/dress for any situation in life so that it suits the situation, not a persons ability to be an individual. So many people attempt to make themselves "unique" by their outward appearance and spend little to no time making their minds and ideas unique. It's the whole "book by it's cover" thing. If you are truly your own individual it will come through, no matter what you look like on the outside, so might as well dress the part of whatever you are doing, and the singularity of who you are will find a way to shine through. It's as easy as that in my mind, if that is easy at all?

The bottom line is that I was thinking about this in the shower this morning. I could give a fuck what people think about me...deep inside. But what I don't want is people judging me on my appearance, because that keeps them from getting to know me and judging me by who I am. So I dress in the middle "Prep-core" I call the style. But I feel it's accessible. But anyone who gets to "into" one style or lifestyle or another can fornicate themselves with an iron rod, because obsessive behaviour is strange, and kind of creepy. Keep and open mind and an open heart and life will fall into place. Word up.

-A.R. Leith

My Prediction...

2005-06-01T23:13:00.000-07:00

...is that belts and sashes are going to be all the rage in Wookie fashion this season.

So, I went to the movies tonight. Actually, I went to the movies last night too, but the movie from yesterday doesn't bear mentioning here save for the fact that Iron Mike should possibly have his name mentioned when it comes time to give out statuettes.

No, no, the film experience tonight was something vastly more disappointing and upsetting. I was made to watch Star Trek Three: return of the Je...Sith, or somesuch. My reaction that is reflected here is not going to be about the movie directly--although it was both disappointing AND upsetting--but rather it shall focus on this movie, and the bevy of others like it that have surfaced lately.

What is going on in the world today that we need such rampant escapism in the theaters? Is it because they have run out of solid movie ideas in Hollywood to the point that they are just rehashing old ideas quicker than you can say thelongestyardwaroftheworldsbadnewsbearsandpeterpanwithatwist three times fast? Why all the fantasy, the science fiction, and the longing for days gone by? Is the modern world such a shitty place that we can't bear to face it? Do we need that two hour break from reality so much that any old story will do, no matter how implausible?

The biggest blockbusters of late that come to mind are: the Star Wars saga, The Lord of the Rings epic, and their ilk...including, but not limited to, Harry Potter's franchise, and some upcoming movie about a piece of furniture/dimensional portal. What, exactly, is it that we are trying to get away from? At this point I think we have all considered the fact the the world just might be a shitty place to live. Rather than owning this reality, however, everyone chooses to participate in a good deal of name calling and finger pointing, or just hide from the truth outright. It would seem that people would prefer to be whisked away to a world where the ending is most likely happy, rather than spending any time constructively coming up with a way to try and end poverty, and spread authentic liberty--rather than the liberty given out at gunpoint by heavily armed teenagers, no matter if the people were asking for it.

Take me, for a prime example. I consider myself to be well-rounded, intelligent, and at least a little bit caring. But here I am, complaining about the world (and maybe poking a little fun here and there) rather than getting off my fat ass and doing anything about it. Well that's just great. Great job, dude. But what are you gonna do, really? In a land where people are in over their heads financially just to feel "comfortable" and more than half the population will back a man based on his domestic "values" while his other hand is busy picking at a wound that would heal if left alone. (Now, this may just be me, or does it seem that if we just got our noses out of the middle east they, as a whole would not dislike us as much? I read--or heard, I forget which--somewhere the other day that something like 97% of Iraqis just want the United States to leave them alone. I don't see why we don't give it a try...what's the worst that could happen, a theocracy? That's pretty much what we have in the U.S. right now, so what gives?)

Aaaanyway, most of this came from three hours in a dark theater with a full bladder. Mostly one line in the movie struck me as interesting because I thought it relevant to modern American politics: "So this is how liberty ends...to resounding applause." I thought it touching, at least. Okay, that's all for now. Comment with any questions, comments, complaints, etc. Word.

-A.R. Leith

I Woke Up Today

2005-05-27T20:28:00.000-07:00

...So, that was nice.

What made it even better was that, when I rolled out of bed (by all accounts the time was nearing eleven), Jerry Springer was on. Now, I know it is just a little thing, but it was nice. The only daytime talk shows we get in the mountains are Montel and some overly sensitive rabble like Ellen, or Tony Danza--who recently attempted suicide using a go-cart...apparently he is twelve.

Of course, we all know that Springer is totally made up, but who cares!? Although, at this point the competition for exposing the dregs of society is getting pretty tight between the former politician from Ohio and the local news. I think if it didn't happen with in my actual neighborhood I don't really need to hear about bad things that happen to other people. Okay, maybe if it happened to a member of my family, but I would hear about that through the proper channels anyway.

The fact is that I do not need to know about the guy in Atlanta perched on a crane. I hope he slips, falls and hurts himself severely, but does not die. He deserves it for wasting my time. In fact I hope he develops a limp that never goes away. Actually, I hope he falls on a news person while he is at it. I just re-read an awesome article by Donna Deliva where she totally went off on reporters, among other things, it is a very good article and can be found in Vice magazine's "Bullshit" issue. Look it up.

I think that is all I really want to write about right now, except to send props out to all the people who have done things around me in the past that have provided me with continuing amusement inside my head while I am physically enduring great deals of boredom or tedium. So, right now, props go out to:

Lindsay, from Shakespeare class, who decided that she was periodically going to have an "AWESOME TIME". I laugh a lot at that in my head.

Chuck Norris for being so dedicated to a super shitty acting career that any mention of the names Chuck, or Norris, leads me to a good chuckle. Thanks.

That's all for now, but as I remember random funny stuff from my head, I will keep putting them here where you have to read them (butsecretlydeepdownyoulikeit).

-A.R. Leith

Quote (And future title of a book I will write): from Jon Stewart's Naked Pictures of Famous People - "P.S. My vagina is a mess."

Sweet Home Chicago

2005-05-24T10:22:00.000-07:00

Okay, this is going to be brief. I just want to run down what's going on in life of late, to kind of catch up so that in the near future I can tackle some other subjects. Werd.

I'm in Chicago for the summer right now, and things are cooler by the lake. That's about all there is to say about that, except that everything is much farther from my house here. I was going through gas like crazy until I realized that my friends houses were sometimes like 30 miles away. In the D town the longest drive I have is the six miles to work once a day. Goddamnit! It's okay though because petrol is way cheaper here. And there is public transportation. So that's nice.

(This next statement has very little to do with the girls I know in durango, because I only associate with attractive people, as a general rule, but...) There are so many fine looking women around here that it's effi'n amazing. Everywhere you turn there seems to be a cute girl. That being said, "There are a million fine looking women in the world, but they won't all bring you lasagna at work." Meaning; it is all well and good to look nice, but there has to be some substance behind the glossy exterior. It is the content that really matters in the end...because we all get pruny and gross and stretched out in weird places as we get older, but what's inside stays the same.

Okay, that's all for now. I'm going to the cubs game tonight, so that should be fun. Talk to you all in the near immediate future.

-A.R. Leith

Quote- "In my perfect world, I'd be assigned a perfect girl. The price...one million kisses." - Jawbreaker

Lately,

2005-05-08T23:22:00.000-07:00

I have been getting a lot of these "inside the nose" pimples. I don't know if anybody really knows what I'm talking about--or has had the misfortune of actually experiencing one of these gems--but they hurt like the dickens and are virtually impossible to lance. Last week there was one in my left nostril, and now there is one in the right. Thankfully they are not coinciding which would probably drive me up the wall. No, the left has dissipated, but the right rages on. I don't really know why I'm telling anyone about this, but the information is now out there, and you have to deal with the repercussions of having it. Ha!

So, I've been thinking about lifestyles lately. Not in the grand sense of what gender you prefer, or if you might be a ladykiller rather than a shy everyman. No, these thoughts have been of the utterly domestic order. As previously mentioned I will soon be returning to the suburbs from my current rural mountain home. The change will not only be in denseness of living, altitude, climate, etc. But it will also mark a movement from "college" living to a much more civilized style of home. I see nothing wrong with this change, other than that it makes me think about all the niceties that I--being a struggling student--cannot afford myself.

I generally feel much more comfortable in a clean, well organized, well decorated home. These, however, are luxuries that I do not currently have because of a lack of time and funds. Sometimes I feel like a slacker because I do not have money to throw around on home furnishings and the like. But then I think about some of the residents of my family and friends as they went through college and do not feel so bad. At the very least there are no holes between floors of my residence. So that's something.

Overall I think there is just a desire within me to achieve, to succeed. And that is what all this schooling is for. (Although my time spent on higher education has severely overstepped the bounds of normalcy.) The fact is that someday I will be able to attain all these things that I really want out of life, and I should spend more time focusing on the here and now, enjoying this time for what it is rather than what it is not. So I'm going to go get started on that now...or at least when I get up in the morning. If anybody wants to hang out and do something crazy with me, they should give me a call, or drop me an emial. Laters.

-A.R. Leith

New quote, because Reggie is tired of repeats:
"If you have a brain and use it too, you've got to know that I've got a crush on you."- Magnified Plaid

In A Haze

2005-05-06T17:49:00.000-07:00

Of late I have been wandering around in an almost complete daze. It is due, I suppose, to the combination of an awful allergy season and the uncertainty of life.

Not that life is ever really that uncertain. I dislike uncertainty--try to avoid it at all costs. I like to know, to be sure of what is going on around me. What has happened, what will happen, and what is happening. Not knowing makes me self conscious and shy. I prefer to be confident and gregarious. At the source:

Soon I will be moving home for several months. I look forward to this change of pace a great deal. However, at this point it has been so long since I've actually lived there that it has morphed into a situation that is "new", so to speak. I'm nervous about what will go on while I'm there. Who will I hang out with? What will I deem "fun"? All of that sort of stuff. It should be a good time, no doubt, but right now it is just a looming bump in the otherwise uninterrupted normalcy of my life.

For the past four years my life has gone Spring: done skiing go golfing finish school, Summer: take some school work at golf course drink too much, Autumn: stop golfing start thinking about skiing go back to school, Winter: ski too much work too much drink too much study too much stress out. That's it. Every year I have known what was coming next...or at least what was supposed to come next. This year there is a monkey wrench in the works and it is creating excitement. I'm not sure that I like excitement.

I've grown complacent in life. I'm comfortably in a rut. I live in a town of roughly 36,000 people, two thirds of whom I either do not know or do not care for. As for the other third, they are good people. There's a nice, familial, feel to knowing the people in your neighborhood. But, it does breed inaction. When everything is good and comfortable a person is generally loathe to change it. Perhaps this is why I have thrown myself a curve ball this summer. I have no doubts that everything (both with this summer, and with life in general) will turn out for the better.

The other problem is a lack of people in my life, currently, who are okay with doing nothing, all day long. Perhaps it is a symptom of growing older, but it seems that everyone is just too busy these days. There was a time when there were people whom you did stuff with. It didn't matter what you did as long as the people you were doing it with were fun. Those days seem to have gone by the wayside. I know that at this point I have stopped flogging the dead horse and am now kicking it in the teeth and giving it an elbow drop, but could it be that what I want most from a woman--from a girlfriend--is someone who just wants to hang out with me all the time, and who I likewise want to spend time with. It doesn't matter if you're going shopping at Wal-Mart at three in the morning, or just wandering around the town for shits and giggles, it's nice to have someone along with a good sense of humor. But alas I have digressed. I'm done now. Check back later for more.

-A.R. Leith

Two Quotes to End it:
"Assign me to a nice girl...so she can ruin me, eternally."- Jawbreaker

"There's no telling what you can learn, by taking your pants off."- !!!

And Then...

2005-05-02T21:45:00.000-07:00

...We All Bought Towels.

It's been a while, yeah?

So the semester is over. Vegas was visited, and we all bought towels. I understand that it has been a while since I have updated what--I'm sure--is everyone's favorite web site. And, indeed, there have been quite a few things on my mind since we last spoke. So here they go, in no particular order:

1. I woke up the other day to go to work. Not a stunning feat all on it's own, but there's more... While I was eating oatmeal and waiting for my car to warm up. (Just in case any of you DON'T know, young Vicky is a very finicky lady.) While this was going on I decided to edify myself with a little bit of television. And what should I happen to catch but the climactic soliloquy from the film adaptation of Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead. If you have neither seen, nor read, this little gem I would suggest it to all. As the story goes, there is a young architect who refuses to compromise his style and ideas to the modern will and whimsy. The message that has so endeared this book to me is that of personal achievement and accountability. I believe that everyone [every adult] is, or should be, responsible for themselves. This includes the notion that those who can and do achieve should be held accountable because others have not. Could multinational conglomerates exploit the workers in foreign lands if they could find no willing workers--at any cost--in those countries? Probably not. Is personal achievement different from greed? I think so. Especially where The Fountainhead is concerned, in that the message is not about acquisition of wealth, but rather not being willing to give up your beliefs simply because someone else tries to force you to. I think that people should be able to believe and behave how they desire, so long as it does not hurt another person. Which brings us to a second question...

2. I was at a sort of dinner party last night where the game of Scatergories was being played. I was a willing participant in the game and enjoying myself when a moral question was raised. the clue was "Things that jump/bounce" the letter was "R", and my answer was "Retarded Kids". A question was raised concerning the propriety of this answer. To be frank, one of the other contestants suggested that I be denied the point, not because--in this case--the word "retarded" is an adjective and therefore modifies the noun, "kids", but rather because my answer was thought to be "tacky". At the time I thought it best not to create a row and did not make an issue of the refused point. However, upon further review I began to wonder... Is it more "tacky" (a word that I hate because somehow it never fails to remind me of Joan Rivers) to refer to these mentally disabled people in the context of things that jump and/or bounce, which indeed they do, or to assume that they are somehow lesser beings, in need of protection from life and "name calling"? So many groups who are somehow seen as "different" wish only to be treated as equals in the human race. That being the case, should punches be pulled because someone is "differently abled", or should you treat them in the same way you might treat anyone else that you deal with on a day to day basis? I kind of suspect that it is the same type of person who desires that someone with a developmental disability should be treated with kid gloves (in other words, not as an equal, but as someone to be sheltered, protected, or otherwise made to feel different) and also recoils from homeless persons in horror. Now, maybe it was a bit gauche for me to use that particular modifier in a board game, but it did bring to light the broader philosophical question of whether treating people differently helps or hurts in the end. For me, the jury is still out, but I do lean towards treating everyone the same, regardless of who they are. It may be cruel, but it might also be the only fair way to do business.

Okay, that is all for right now, because I am tired, but there will be more shortly, I assure you. Because, summer is here, and I'll have to vent somewhere. Ta Da!

-A.R. Leith

What's up Florida?

2005-04-08T22:57:00.000-07:00

...Why you acting so crazy?

In addition to the cesspool that I already believed it to be there have been many instances that have lately been brought to my attention giving good reason that the state of Florida should be forced into secession and it's people left to their own devices. The reasons are innumerable, but--for the reasons of clarity and comprehension--will be enumerated here.

Having spent several years living in Florida during childhood I can unequivocally say that it is tantamount to a colostomy bag that miraculously gained statehood. However, the more recent cases of oddity and gross negligence have a more resounding quality than the testimony of a child. And so, they will be related to you forthwith.

Number One- While recently perusing one of my favorite online sites (in this case "Get Your War On") and reading a commentary on the Schiavo case which was at the time raging in the "state-that-shall-not-be-named". The statement made was to the effect that the United States should cut it's losses in Iraq and elsewhere. Where the future former state is concerned the suggestion was that it should be severed from the rest of the country before the "torso" becomes infected, and that the state's residents should be left little more than a goodbye note and a gift certificate to applebees. I applaud this decision and wish to see it carried out as quickly as possible, but that is not the point here. The point is that this innocently funny statement got me thinking about just how many things come out of the state of Florida all bass-ackwards.

Number Two- So, the Schiavo case is number one (hard to believe when we all know USA is #1), number two comes in the form of a couple of other medical oddities. First, the case of Baby Karen--at least I think her name is Karen, and I don't really want to look it up right now. Now poor baby Karen was born without a brain; I know that is unpleasant to think about, but it happens more often than you might want to consider (about one in 10,000 babies in the U.S. are born anacephalic), so we're going to think about it now. Even more unpleasant is the thought of a bunch of dead babies piling up everywhere. That is why it is baffling that the Floridian judicial system would rather have two dead babies than one. You see, the parents of this young baby wanted to donate her usable organs so that other babies might live, because Karen herself would not live more than a week or so. Turns out that is VERY illegal under current Florida law. They would rather ALL of the babies die, rather than only the baby that had no chance of survival anyway.

The second instance was one of a Dentist who was giving his patients the AIDS virus. Apparently he was informed by the Florida board of health that it was perfectly alright for him to continue practicing medicine, and that there was no need for him to inform his patients that he was HIV positive. We all understand that accidents happen, but this is just gross misconduct all around. I'm starting to think that there is something in the water--besides the thousands of pounds of farming chemicals dumped into the Everglades--down there...

Number Three- This one is more political. Actually, this consists of two examples. One is the botched election in 2000. There are rampant accusations of voter fraud in the state of Florida surrounding November of that year, including anyone with a name that even matched that of a convicted felon not being able to vote because they had been removed from the voter rolls. The theory being that most people in prison were non-white. Now these, of course, are simply accusations. They may not be true, and they may not even be founded, but the fact is that something was so screwed up in that state that the door was left open to such accusations, so something isn't being done right.

The second item for number three is that of NASA (which stands for the National aeronautic Something Aruther). They have somehow found a way to reverse Newton's idea that "what goes up, must come down". I suppose they haven't exactly reversed it, as much as they have bent it a little by altering the number of pieces it comes down in. This is kind of cruel, and not really funny, just a fact, and something else that should be fixed before the whole state wins the "Darwin Award".

Number Four- Disney World. It's kind of sad when a company that blatantly alters history, preys on young children, holds cartoons hostage, and employs land purchasing and political tactics that are sketchy at best is the best thing your state has going for it. Actually, it is a toss up between Disney and the whole "Margaritaville" thing for the title of best thing in Florida, but that's still not saying much. I will say this, Disney World is the only clean part of Florida, end of story. Plus, they have a monorail...they just can't let NASA get their hands on that. (For a more in depth look at Disney read Carl Hiaasen's Team Rodent.)

I think that is about all for now. It will at least give some people some stuff to think about for a little while. As usual, comments are welcome. And hey, look on the bright side, this isn't nearly as depressing on a personal level as all that stuff about the ladies. I shouldn't worry, it'll happen when it happens, right?

-A.R. Leith

p.s.- Hey, wasn't Ted Bundy down in Florida too? That's fucking it, get me a scissors and something to lance that thing with. I'll get rid of that boil myself.

Quote: "I'll call you on your shit if you please call me on mine."- Propagandhi

That Thing I Forgot...Before

2005-04-06T21:15:00.000-07:00

Yeah, I was busy telling all ya'll about what I think about the ladies and it totally made me forget the reason I signed on to dis here ting earlier today:

I was filling my auto with gasoline this afternoon and there was one of those new Chevy Aveo's sitting there in the parking area of my local filling station. I know, not to exciting on it's own, right? But this motherfucker was sitting on DuBs. Like someone spent more money on their wheels than the whole car is worth. It was funny. I got so excited I almost needed a hanky.

-A.R. Leith

Qualifications and random thoughts.

2005-04-06T13:40:00.000-07:00

Okay, it occurs to me that simply listing the things that I find desirable in a woman are not really enough. For one thing, there is a good possibility that what I view as fulfilling those qualifications are not necessarily the same as what others might think qualify. So here's a more in depth look at why I'm nearly always single:

Funny- There are a lot of funny people out in the world. However, there is such a variety of funny that it boggles the mind. The kind of funny that I enjoy has to do with A: a woman who "laughs at my dumb jokes when no one does". B: a woman who makes me laugh. There are a lot of people out there who laugh at things that I say...mostly nervous laughter, because they don't know how else to react to some of the things that come out of my mouth, but laughter none the less. But rare is the woman who makes me laugh. I find (and this may not be true, it's just what I think) that many women are too caught up worrying to be able to laugh and see the humor in life. Anybody can laugh at other people--the key to a grrrreat sense of humor is to be able to laugh at the world and, more importantly, at themselves. The perfect test, as it turns out, is if a lady says something mean to you simply respond by saying, "Whatever, you're fat." A gal with a truly great sense of humor will realize that you are joking and laugh. Everybody has flaws, and being able to laugh at our own is the best thing ever. (p.s.- don't ever try this with a girl who actually is fat or you might end up as one half of an ugly murder-suicide...and nobody wants that.)

Intelligent- This one kind of explains itself, so I will only ad that getting good grades in school is only part of it. One must be objective, but remain passionate. Meaning, that you have to be able to understand both sides of an argument before you can pick one. Arguing or holding beliefs based strictly on passion OR objectivity is a dangerous and shortsighted thing. Someone who can do both is a diamond in the rough. Also, in correlation to the above, a girl must be unafraid to tell me when something is un-funny, or stupid. Don't just laugh because something has been said that is odd. If it's not really funny, speak up.

Stylish- Be able to dress for any occasion. If a woman knows what is proper attire for any occasion and has the wardrobe to back it up, that's perfect. That's all there really is to it. Otherwise if you are confident and fun you can pull pretty much anything off. Girls are good like that.

Crass- This goes with the bit about having a good sense of humor. Stupid (silly stupid, not ignorant stupid) things are funny too--don't act like you're too mature to laugh at something random. Acting too good for everything makes people come off as stuck up, and no fun at all. And who wants to hang out with people who are no fun...THAT'S RIGHT, other people who are no fun. Try and keep yourselves out of this group. The list of stupid things that are funny includes, bodily fluids, farts, boobs, butts, people falling down, head injuries (limited mostly to self-inflicted wounds), people who take themselves too seriously, etc. Stay away from these things, but feel free to point and laugh from a distance.

Cute- This is pretty much up to me, except to say that cute is way better than hott. Hott girls are usually too much work and not enough fun to be around, while cute girls are the kind of people who you can hang out with all day and never get tired of. That's just science.

So that's the rundown on the roadmap to my heart. Hopefully somebody worthwhile will find it. But I'm not holding my breath or anything. I do believe in love, I just don't think it is as easy as some people let it be...and that's why there are so many divorces these days.

Okay, I had some random stuff I was going to talk about, but I cannot remember what it is. But that's life, right. I'm getting old. We're all dying. More later.

-A.R. Leith

Quote: "I swear I more than half believe it when I say 'somewhere love and justice shine.'" -the weakerthans

Giving up on trying...

2005-03-28T07:39:00.000-08:00

...to blow people's minds.

See, did that statement "blow your mind"? Of course, it didn't.

Today I was getting ready for my first class, and I saw a young man with--with an overly tall beanie on, no less--preparing a powerpoint presentation on a lab computer. It was weird; mostly because it was as if I could actually read his mind. I looked at him, and then at the screen, and automatically the thought that popped into my mind was the voice of a hippie/stoner saying, "Man, this is totally going to BLOW THEIR MINDS!" He also had headphones, a dull stare, and a pen hanging out of his mouth in the manner of a cigarette...but those are all neither here nor there. The point is that it got me to thinking about people having their minds blown, and why it just isn't happening anymore:

I am pretty sure that it is a scientific fact that people stopped having their minds blown sometime in the late sixties/early seventies. There may have been a few holdover flower children who had blowings of the mind on into the early nineties, but that is because their drug addled brains still thought it was the sixties and were actually being amazed by things that had happened before but that they could not remember having happened. The point is that people just aren't surprised anymore. At least not in any sort of life-altering way.

Let's just say that the only people that still believe that minds may be "blown" are probably idealistic high-school or college kids who have probably just read a book (Fast Food Nation, No Logo, Walden, anything by Chomsky or Zinn, something about zen Buddhism, etc.) and are now in a position to write a report or give a presentation in which they can incorporate their new nuggets of knowledge. To these young people the world is blind, but needs only have it's eyes opened to what is really going on--and they are going to do exactly that.

Problem is, that most people are not blind. It turns out that a good many people have a good deal of knowledge, they just don't care. So when a wet-behind-the-ears undergrad finishes their presentation on capitalistic greed and American imperialism with a flourish that suggests that the word "voila" should probably have been used they are met with the dull stare of a crowd that intones, "Duh, but how does that effect my new station wagon and three bedroom in the suburbs." People already know that the world sucks. The world DOES suck. It would seem, then, that it is simply the hope of most people that the suckiness of the world will just stay put in countries who's names cannot be pronounced and who's locations remain a mystery, other than to say that they are "over there". The new apathy is one that assumes that the world is going to suck--no matter what. And, as long as that sucking is as far away as possible I can ignore it and everything will be okay.

I have come to terms with my apathy about the "new apathy". It is sort of an "if they don't care, why should anyone care" situation. Yeah, I understand that there are undernourished people working 80 hour weeks for a pittance in the third world, but seriously, that's their problem. Personally, I'd probably rather turn to a life of crime than work in a factory making things I cannot afford. I can't understand why other people do that. In fact, I don't think that they should do it. Sure, there should be a sense of community in the world, but how did it happen that people stopped being accountable for their own shit?

In the book Catch 22, Joseph Heller suggests that "they can do anything that we cannot stop them from doing." That is one (of many) of the catches in life that the book covers. As it applies to the global economy; of course companies are going to look out for themselves and try to maximize their profit, that's the nature of capitalism. Your job is to have the same attitude about yourself. Think of yourself as a company that must get the most profit possible for the product given. Companies will treat you like shit if you let them. However, if enough people refuse to be treated like shit the balance of power will shift, and the corporation will have to meet demands or suffer from having no work force.

I know this all sounds good in theory, and will be much harder to implement in real life, but when was anything worthwhile ever easy to attain? Everyone should watch their own ass. Of course you can help out your friends and neighbors, but try not to do so at the expense of your own health and happiness. It is up to everyone to not just "let things slide". If you do not expect the best, you will not be given the best. People who go through life super happy just have low expectations...of others, and of themselves.

This is not an essay aimed at getting people to stop trying to blow the minds of others...simply a series of ideas that might help people realize that they are responsible for their own well being before that of others. Raise your standards for the sake of a better life. A good deal of the time you will get exactly what you expect out of life, so start expecting more.

-A.R. Leith

"They're going to try and make you a martyr. They'll keep on pushing 'til you're pushing back harder."- The Dillinger Four.

Snow

2005-03-25T13:36:00.000-08:00

Basically it was pointed out to me this morning that my job choices both revolve around the weather. Today it is snowing. If I were still at my winter job I'd probably have wood...but as it is I'm working at a golf course and am pretty much unemployed until the shit melts. So what gives with that. All it leaves me with is these afternoons where all I have to do is sit around fostering one of two thoughts...

One: Someday I might have money...either from working very, very hard, and saving it all so I can give it to somebody else later in life, or through some lottery route. Either way I generally turn on golf or baseball or something and think about architecture until I fall asleep on the couch and miss a bunch of phone calls that would invite me to do something that could be fun. It sucks, except now I have a ton of house designs built up in my head...which on second thought is about as useful as a handful of wishes. So it's not all that productive. I'll try to stop doing it. Which would be easier if I wasn't depressed and sick with mono. (Clinically I don't know if either of those statements is true, but they are my informed guess.)

Two: Similar situation, except rather than architecture it's about women. I'm going to go ahead and lay it down here. (Actually this happens all the time, walking, driving, sitting in class, open heart surgery, skydiving, anytime these thoughts about girls just pop into my head.) The point is this. There have been five women that I have known in my life that could have been THE ONE...so there are many ones. The point here is that I'm picky as hell, and cannot find the right girl for me. I have only ever dated one of these five, and it ended badly, but that's life, right? The others have not worked out for a myriad of reasons. Not least notably of which is that I often fail to talk to them and tell them how I feel about them. Yeah, it's my fault, but I fear rejection.

It also doesn't help that I spend a lot of the time listening to the emo. It makes me sad about girls and fear the worst. Right now I'm pining for number five and dunno what to do about it. I wish there were a better way to find out if someone else was interested in you. I've just read an article about it and I'm going to try to put some of those techniques to use, but who knows where that will lead. Strangely women that I find attractive are among the very few things that really scare me about life. I guess I'm just a pussy.

In the past I have mentioned the five things that I look for in a women...I thought of more today, but mostly that come later in relationships. Like gregariousness. (or even knowing what that word means...that'd be a good start.) But yeah, I'm shy and quiet--until I get to know a person or group of people, that is--and so it would be nice if I could date someone who is more outgoing than me. Subconsciously I think that is a reason I like for a girl to make her intentions known first. But that doesn't always work out. And as we all know- "Life sucks, get a fucking helmet."

Okay, back to the snow at hand. I'm over winter. This year sucked because I couldn't ski with the kids. I hate skiing by myself. In fact, I hate doing pretty much everything my myself...so I'm looking forward to summer. That's about all there is of that.

Totally off subject: I was half asleep on the couch the other day when I had this dream/vision/whatever of this girl from one of my classes just coming over and laying on top of me and we both fell asleep. Not necessarily sexual, but very nice indeed. I don't know what to make of it all. Life is weird. I'm tired of typing now, I'm going to read more. Wish me luck on everything, I'm going to need it.

-A.R. Leith

"Assign me to a nice girl, so she can ruin me...eternally."- Jawbreaker

"I went to college, and Guess what I learned...

2005-03-21T09:10:00.000-08:00

So lately I have songs stuck in my head. Okay, I shouldn't qualify that with "lately"...I always have songs stuck in my head. The weird part is that all the songs that have been stuck in there lately are about how bad the world sucks. You know, war, pestilence, girls, plagues, parents, and the man--they're all down on us, and with no good reason...man!

So yeah, Propagandhi, the angry half of Lawrence Arms songs, the Broadways, all of it. Constantly running through my head. But here's the odd bit, I'm happier lately than before. I certainly don't get it. Not even a little bit. But I worry about the people around me...and I'm going to tell you why:Most of the time I kind of wonder if people are thinking objectively and critically around me. I know, I know there are supposed to be emotions involved in every day life. But what if I'm not emoting properly. "What if this crazy world thinks I'm the one who's crazy...I'm not crazy, just frustrated." I find myself, more often than not, making decisions about life from a more objective and less emotional standpoint. For example, when it comes to love and dating I tend to think about it in terms of: How will this person look in 20 years? What would our kids look like? And most importantly- Can I stand to hang out with this person for the rest of my life? While it seems to me that others are thinking about how "hott" said person is, and how badly they "want" them. I'm worried about being able to provide for another person, or several people. Maybe my heart is--like the grinch--several sizes too small.

I have recently established five categories that I think should be fulfilled on some level by a person that I would like to date. She should be 1. Funny, 2. Stylish, 3. Crass, 4. Intelligent, and 5. viewed by me as being cute. (By the by, being cute is way better than being hott. It's not my rule, look it up. The difference being that someone who is cute is not generally overly concerned with their looks, where a person who is hott generally only has that going for them. How rare is it that you find an out of hand "hott" girl that actually has something to say? It just doesn't happen. The end result is that, while the prospect of being with such a person is initially tantalizing, in the end they become boring and un-fun. And you have to deal with that, because you were hung up on looks, so there. I hope you have kids together.)

These five simple ideas are weird, no? Not weird in and of themselves, but weird in that I have met only a handful of women in my life--short though it has been, thus far--that have met all five of the categories. It gets a lad to thinking...Maybe the problem is with me? Am I too hard to please? Too picky? Is it irresponsible of me to want to be with someone who makes me laugh instead of just laughing at things I say?

These are the ponderences that have ruled my mind lately. Oh, that and I've started to re-read the first several "Get Your War On" cartoon strips and can't help but wonder how anyone can think that genocide is okay, even if it is in the name of "freedom". First of all, people should be on their own to better their situation. We, as a nation, are not fucking babysitters. It's like if your dad beats up the bully for you at school...everyone just makes more fun of you, and things are worse than before. So that sucks even worse. True revolution comes from within. Things won't get better for anyone unless they change it for themselves. Meanwhile I'm praying (read "hoping" because what is the point of praying? If god is omnipresent he/she/it will already know what I want.) that Iraq becomes a Theocracy and the Arab community goes on hating us for being intrusive dicks until they kill enough white people that Americans figure out that maybe they don't want us there. Right now we're pretty much sticking our hand into a bee hive to steal the honey and wondering why we keep getting stung. Rats with a feeder bar have a better learning curve than most Americans right now.

Okay, that's it. I've vented it. Although I still get sad every time I think about being silenced when I try to talk politics with my family. Blah. It's out there. Think about it. Make your own thoughts on it. Whoop (is it there?)

-A.R. Leith

Professional Mathletes

2005-03-20T19:20:00.000-08:00

Okay, since there really aren't such things as pro mathletes (are there?), I cannot imagine why I called this that. So let's talk about something much more upsetting...

Professional Sports- I don't like it, and I'm going to tell you why:

First of all, I see a lot of time wasted by people following their "team". I'm going to let alone the obvious problem of people who refer to the teams in the plural inclusive. Like the kind of person would say "I'm glad WE got rid of Sosa, because he struck out too much." etc. That problem speaks for itself as having to do with those who watch, rather than do. No no, my more recent anger stems from the massive amount of money pro sports garners and then keeps all to itself.

So many athletes out there say they play for the love of the game, but do not let their paychecks reflect that. For example, the recent cancellation of the NHL season because the owners and players cannot come to a reasonable agreement on how many gazillion dollars they are each allowed to make in a season is so fucking weak it makes me sick. And so, for the betterment of sports...nay, all of society, I will here propose several changes that will bring back the purity and pride to professional sports and athletes.

1. None of this "trading" bullshit. An athlete who desires to play a sport professionally must play for the team that is located nearest the city he/she has spent the MAJORITY of their life living in. This will bring back some civic and regional pride in the athletes who represent us, and will eliminate a bunch of transient millionaires who go wherever they can get paid the most.

2. Oh yeah, getting paid. There will be an absolute salary cap on how much an athlete can make from playing games for a living...We're talking a maximum of like $200,000 a year. (This goes for coaches and managers too...as for owners, they won't exist. The team will belong to the city and they can fucking elect front office officials who can make no more than 200k a year. So there.) Ticket prices will remain ridiculously high, and any excess revenue will go into maintaining/refurbishing facilities and to the local schools or other worthy endeavors. This will keep people from getting greedy, and only people who really love the sports will get involved.

3. College athletic scholarships: Okay, I really have no problem with this, because it addresses the above problems. Someone who loves the games getting paid to do it, but getting paid with an education...so that works. Unless, of course, the athletes are getting special treatment in their studies and end up like the UWV athletes I saw on TV last night after their "big win" who weren't really winners at all because they couldn't put two coherent thoughts together. How can you get to be a senior in college and not be well spoken? The world and your educational institution have failed us both...I'm pissed about it, why aren't you? But yeah, otherwise teach the kids for free if they can play ball; that is more of a win win situation.

4. Any city that can field a team gets to play, end of story. We're going back to Little League on this one. But if you can come up with a full roster at the beginning of the season then you should be allowed to play. If you suck then you have incentive to get better. If your city rocks, then keep on keeping on...there will be nice trophies and ceremonies (maybe even a parade!) and the end of every season for your players. Hoorah!

5. Helmets are for pussies. At most pro athletes should be allowed to wear those little leather jobbies with no face mask that footballers used to sport. If you're not skilled enough not to get hit in the head then there is somebody in your home town who might be. Plus, if it turns out you can't dodge that curve ball you get all the goddamn pudding you can handle...forever. If you have questions about this, just look at boxers. They don't wear helmets and pretty much all they do is get hit in the head...and to them cartoons are still funny, so they pretty much rule.

6. Any activity where human power is not the primary mode of motivation is not a sport, PERIOD. NASCAR drivers are not "athletes" for the same reason I don't get a trophy for hopping in the Crown Vic and going to the corner store for milk faster than my neighbor. The car is doing all the work. For the same reasons cart golf is not a sport, while ballroom dancing probably is.

Okay, I think that's all for now. Sorry it's been so long between entries. That is, if you care at all. Don't be afraid to comment if you have something to say, or any questions. I like comments. Okay, I'm done. I need to go to bed. Got a big day tomorrow.

-A.R. Leith

Rando Quote of the day: "This is your life. It doesn't get any better than this. This is your life...and it's ending one minute at a time." -Chuck P.

So, it's March.

2005-03-04T08:17:00.000-08:00

Yeah, this is pretty much the best month ever. It contains my two favorite holidays in the calendar year. St. Patrick's day, and my birthday. The advent of Marchi Gras was several years ago, and it celebrates the week of debauchery that is the time between my birthday and the most Irish of holidays. It's a good time, and I wish you all a good March. Now, on the the comments, questions, and complaints:

I went to a presentation put on by the "Master Plan Ministry" at the local college here the other night. The presentation was called, "Are you a Monkey" and had to do with the concept of "Intelligent Design"...essentially it was a bunch of scientists who got together to tear apart the evolutionary theory of Charles Darwin. That is all well and good. We are forever looking for new explanations for life and how we got here, what we're doing here, etc. HOWEVER, I think it is very important that you have actual new developments before you go to press with a glossy new DVD about your theories. What I'm saying is that I didn't learn anything I didn't already know about life from this presentation. Obviously there is some force in the universe that gives direction to cellular (not phone) development and creates varieties of life. The problem is--and always has been, as far as I'm concerned--that nobody knows what this is. Not one person has been able to realistically quantify this force and the reasons for its decisions. So I think the whole thing is fine to think about, but don't bother me with theories until you have something more concrete that what the force is NOT. That's all I have to say about that.

Other than that, all is well with the world, I think. So we'll talk more later. Okay? Okay.

-A.R. Leith

p.s.- I'm sorry this wasn't more profound or anything, but it's early, and my arm hurts.

p.p.s.- Justin, we need to talk.

There WILL be categories...

2005-02-25T12:58:00.000-08:00

The other day I got to thinking about the world. Well, not really the world so much as the globe. We are on the surface of an orb, floating in a great fastness of space, right? Why is it, then, that we came to regard North as being "up" the way that we, you know, do? More specifically, why are globes always positioned with the northern hemisphere on the top?

These questions led me to another query...do we geographically view the world in the way that we do because most of the conquering societies in historical memory have been from the northern hemisphere? (Greek, Roman, Abassid, Turkish, Mongol, British, U.S., etc...today's empires, tomorrow's ashes.) Was it simply a matter of self importance and therefore convenience that the globe is viewed the way it is? Did it just make more sense to not have to lay on the floor to look at the world? I should probably ask a geographer.

So, what this all really leads to is the question of social reform in colonized societies. (A long hop skip and a jump, I know...) Currently we are doing a unit on a Maori (from New Zealand...or rather, OF New Zealand)--at least half Maori--writer in my Post-Colonial Lit class and it has me thinking about the way different people, cultures, and classes interact. The author, Alan Duff, seems to be of the opinion that a failure to succeed on the part of the Maori is caused by internalized hatred, racism, and futile thoughts. Which would mean that he advocates the "path of least resistance" or, in this case, simply to allow yourself, as a submissive culture, to be assimilated and co-opted by the dominant culture. I, on the other hand, see it less as a domineering attitude on the part of the colonizers (generally European, white, male, etc.) but rather a disinterest in other cultures--or possibly an intense interest, depending on your POV--and their histories that allows them [the conquerors] to go about their business with little or no remorse. And so, in order to proffer understanding, or at the very least MY understanding, here come the categories:

Sociopolitical Unwillingness to Compromise
There seems to be a desire of people from the northern climes to move their selves and their cultures to more hospitable locales. To that end colonials take the creature comforts of the lives to which they have been accustomed with them all over the world under the protection of their home governments. When they arrive in these more palatable places and begin to live life as they have always conducted themselves, creating conversations with the pre-existing inhabitants that probably went something like:

EURO: "This is a real nice place you've got here. Lots of natural resources and whatnot."
LOCAL: "Yes, we like it. It's home, anyways. Say, where are you from anyway?"
EURO: "Yeah, reeeal posh...and LUSH. Bet you can grow a lot of good sturdy crops with this soil; it looks quite fertile."
LOCAL: "Actually, we are quite agrarian, now that you mention it. But, is there something I could help you with? I notice you have an awful lot of luggage on your boats there."
EURO: "What's that?"
LOCAL: "I say, you have a good deal of baggage there."
EURO: "Oh, yes. Quite right! We're moving in...going to take up residence here."
LOCAL: "I'm sorry, it sounded like you said you were moving in."
EURO: "I did."
LOCAL: "And where were you planning on living?"
EURO: "Well, your house looked kind of tempting."
LOCAL: "You're saying you want to move in with my family?"
EURO: "I daresay not! I never did get on well with flatmates. You'll be moving out."
LOCAL: "But where will that leave us?"
EURO: "Hadn't given it much thought, actually. Somewhere on the periphery I suppose. No matter, you'll get by just fine I sus."
LOCAL: "What!? That hardly seems fai--"
EURO: "You didn't have any sort of pre-existing culture or history that is going to be upset by our moving in and taking over, did you?"
LOCAL: "Actually--"
EURO: "Good, because that would be inconvenient. Now, if you wouldn't mind, those ships are not going to unload themselves. I'll be playing cricket over on the lawn...ring me when tea is served."

Essentially the Europeans have found that their system of government and society works for them, so why shouldn't it work for everyone else? The natives will be allowed to keep all the culture they want, but if it is success that they are after they are going to have to become Europeanized and follow the rules laid out in some dreary London board room for social and business conduct. Is that so bad?

Can Culture be Maintained?
Personally, I think there is nothing wrong, or evil, about maintaining one's culture and heritage while still moving forward with social evolution. Which is to say, "Although I am just a big dumb whitey, I think that people's history is important, and can be maintained while allowing the individual to progress with a more modern (albeit westernized) model of success. This does not mean that I favor demeaning people in any way shape or form because of the past proclivities of their families. Rather, it means that everyone...EVERYONE...should be judged on their own individual merits, desires, achievements, and ambitions. ("I can take responsibility for what I've done, but not for who I am.") Sure, it may mean jumping through some hoops, and it might not even be morally correct, but it seems alright to me. But that is partially because I am an American. We don't really have a sense of heritage anymore and therefore view it as an anchor keeping people from the future and success, rather than something to be cherished or valued.

Screwing for Justice and Equality?
(Preface: this is only very tangentially attached to the above topics...) Is it wrong that I think very practically about reproduction? For example, I am a very pale, balding, big person. Now, I know there are people who say that you cannot control who you fall in love with, it could be anybody that is "the one". Aside from the fact that I don't believe that there is a "one" but many "possible ones" that time and circumstance could put you into contact with, affording you a bright and happy future; there is the option of pragmatism.

As a child I got sunburned like the dickens. (Not Charles, some other, less famous, Dickens) Would it then be wrong for me to seek out a mate with darker skin and features so that my children need not go through all of that aloe-vera? Or how about the fact that my hair is not much longer for this world? Would it be offensive to as a potential partner about her father's scalp condition. There are many haircuts that I would like to try, but alas, my hair has not been co-operative. Shouldn't my kids have options? That's all I'm saying...think about the future. For god's sake, will someone please think of the children!

-A.R. Leith

p.s.- Kids, stay off the drugs. They're not good for you, and they're a real drain on your bank account. Just some friendly advice from your Uncle A.

Iiiiii...Dunno.

2005-02-24T18:00:00.000-08:00

Sorry to everyone about that other thing I wrote. Actually, sorry about all the things I have written. There seems to be something fundamentally wrong with me. Aside from the desire to make others think about their thoughts (Which, more often than not, makes me look like an angry dick (which I kind of am) and makes other people mad...I don't want people to be mad, I want people to be happy.) While we're on the subject of apology, I'm sorry about everything I did and didn't do for the last two weeks.

What does depression feel like?

Nothing is getting done. I'm not going anywhere, and all I ever want to do is sleep. Is that healthy? How do you spell mononucleosis? (WebMD wants to know)

The long and the short of it is that I feel like I've been awake for about a month now, even though I was only awake long enough to eat lunch before my first nap today. There is something seriously wrong here, and I don't know what it is. I want to be better, I want to be happy. Happy would be nice. I want to be loved for being chubby and fun. Where are all the girls with the love for the cuddly kid? I met one once...she broke my heart (Kind of...mostly she just dumped me, which is okay, because people shouldn't be together if one of them isn't really happy). Funny, that. It's always cold in the house now. Not like cold between me and the roommates, more like cold because the weather sucks and the heat is never on. But it's hot when I wake up. I don't like that. (I'm not even going to bother to tell you why.) I'm disappointed in Justin. Thanks for following through, Justin. Thanks for the warning. Money is a problem. When isn't money a problem. If you don't have it, you want it. If you have it, you want more. (The only bright point about this is the hobo that was on CSI yesterday. Maybe I should be a hobo. He found a wallet on a dead body and bought himself a suit with it. I'd like a new suit. Bums don't care about society that much. If it feels good it's okay. I want it to be okay to feel good.) There was once a band that said, "If they don't care, why should I care. But I say...If I don't care, why should anyone care?". I always liked that line. Finding someone to spoon with shouldn't be hard, but it is. Most people (women) assume that spooning will lead to sex. Not if I can help it. I think I'm scared of sex. It's kind of gross, all that sloppiness and possibility for unknowns. "Why would someone want to attach themselves to another person in that manner? There has got to be a better way to show you care. Like giving someone some flowers, or leaving them alone for a while." Sure, it feels good...for a little while. YOu know what feels better? That's right, having someone who is fun to hang out with all the time. I need more of those people. Is the future supposed to be terrifying? Because it kind of is. Very imposing. Why is it that all the Asian girls on campus wear scarves all the time? Was there a memo?

So, there all that is. It just kind of came out. If you read it, I hope you enjoyed it (You probably didn't). Yeah. I'll try not to get so personal anymore.

Weird.

Look at me, apologizing all over the place like I'm Canadian.

-A.R. Leith

Unconscionable Culpability

2005-02-23T13:49:00.000-08:00

Because of recent events involving the people around me I want to get something off my chest. First and foremost there is the issue of the military involvement of "good" or ordinary people. It is my current opinion that no person can, with a clean conscious, voluntarily involve themselves with the military without first understanding what they are signing on for.

Now, this is not to say that if a person has rationally weighed the options about what they are doing and still decided that they want to join up that they are not entitled. The world goes round because different people have differing opinions, and that is fine. I understand that that is not going to change. What bothers me is the fact that so many people do not give a great deal of thought to what they are getting in to when they sign up for service in the military.

Right now I am going to make a few "blanket inflammatory statements" but bear with me. First, if you sign up to be in the military there is a good chance you will be shot at...and that you will be asked to shoot others. A failure to take that into consideration does not make you some sort of "angel with a dirty face", it makes you shortsighted. I recently suffered a berating because someone who claimed to disagree with some of the government's current military actions felt that they were still somehow innocent because they had been shot at. F that. If you did not know what the military was about there is no way you should have signed up. It is not my fault that this person made an uninformed decision. In signing up for the army, etc. you assume the risks involved, end of story.

Second, the risks are many and varied. The items you stand to lose by joining the military: Life, friends, morality, limbs, blood, sanity, etc. Anyone who voluntarily signs up for violent action where their input is neither direct or often heeded has lost moral credibility. For the most part the people in the military are just "doing what they are told." Which essentially means that they have sold their free will for a paycheck. Operating as little more than hired goons to support a system based on profit, not humanity is a choice that they willingly made.

That being said, there are people out there who made the decision based on economic need, to pay for college, or what have you. Hopefully the decision they made was informed, but I find it hard to have sympathy if it was not. I support the PEOPLE in the military in so much as I want them to be safe from harm...but to voluntarily put yourself in harm's way and then expect sympathy for it seems ludicrous to me. Stand up and be willing to accept the consequences of your actions, or act in a different way.

On the other side of this coin are the people who have decided that they are completely behind the government and are ultra gung-ho about their activities overseas. I would just ask them to keep in mind that the people on the other side of the firing line are just as passionate in their beliefs that they are right. Each thinks that they are fighting for freedom, while the other is the evil-doer. Violence creates a grey area that is inescapable and detrimental to almost everyone except those with the coldest of hearts. A little sympathy would go a long way these days.

Okay, sorry for the rant kids, maybe next time I'll be in a more cheery mood. To try and make up for it I'll whine about something else with a song quote about what's on my mind lately:
"What if she doesn't like me? What if I'm not her type? What if all the girls that ever like me are not the kind of girls that I like? What if I meet the right one and screw it up? Will I consider myself a failure, and just give up?" -The Plain White Ts

A.R. Leith

p.s.- The "R" stands for Aaaaarrrrrggghhh!

Is this really necessary?

2005-02-16T12:33:00.001-08:00

Okay, I am going to try and keep this here post short and sweet (hopefully) because I've got a lot to do today. Errands must be run, naps must be taken, and I've got to go to new mexico today. Also, I am trying to resist the urge to talk about myself too much, as I think you already know too much about me thanks to this blog business, and I'm sure you don't want to hear me whine...about myself anyway.

On to the crux!!

What is the deal with these ads? I understand that pharmaceuticals are big business and there are a lot of Americans out there who may or may not need help. In order to make money you have to spend money, in this case on advertising. HOWEVER...and this is a big "however"...there are two ads that just should not be on television.

First, the attractive people telling me about their herpes simplex B or what have you? How much are they paying these actors to have the world suspect their sexual health. Nevermind the word on the street that something like 75% of Americans have some form of Herpes or another. (If you've ever had so much as a cold sore, you probably have herpes.) The fact is I do not need to hear about the problem in others. If people even so much as suspect that they have this little humdinger of a lingerer they should go immediately to their doctor and have it checked out. If that doesn't even occur to you I don't think an ad telling you about a treatment is going to make you want to get better.

The next set of ads--a constant source of mirth in my house when they come on--are those dealing with a "lack of bladder control*" (to put it delicately). I cannot fathom the person that hears the line "I can't believe I'm even talking about this, but, sometimes I don't make it to the bathroom on time." and says "ME TOO", like they haven't noticed the puddles around the house until this exact moment in time when the ad came on and they started to consider the notion that it might not "just be condensation". This seems like a problem I would have looked into long before there was an ad on TV. And yet, here I am, enjoying my lunch and listening to grown women (and yes, these ads do primarily feature women--possibly because of their strange opposition to peeing outdoors or in the kitchen sink.) tell me about having problems wetting themselves. The situation is palpably uncomfortable, to say the least.

Other Opinions on the Matter
Contrary to what you might have heard/assumed, I do sometimes listen to what other people are saying. Here are some examples:

Roomate M- Says that "trying to hold in urine for long periods in your youth can lead to lack of bladder control in your later years. So not only was that road trip across the U.S. that your folks took you on as a kid "informational" and "fun", but it was also potentially damaging to your urinary tract. So thank your father again for not pulling over when you 'had to go real bad'".

Roomate B- In a somewhat more cruel statement, says, "I'm going to have to do something about this before I get to pre-school."

I like both things, one because it furthered my knowledge (sort of) and the other because it was abjectly cruel and therefore made me laugh. It bears noting that I think it's fine to laugh at people if they are not around to hear you...and sometimes even if they are. The long and the short of it is that I do not want to hear about uncomfortable things about other people's biology on the television. If this sort of jellydicking continues I may be forced to create my own infomercial on "The Joy and Satisfaction of Lancing" in which I show people what sort of things they can lance on their own bodies in their own homes, and how. I hope to make gobs of money from this and buy a racing sloop and bring the cup back to America, where it belongs.

-A.R. Leith

(* This blog entry is not directed at anyone I know personally...and besides, being made to laugh so hard that you pee in your pants is nothing to be ashamed of. In some cultures it is the ultimate compliment to your host. So keep watching the History channel until you find out what those cultures are and you can silence your co-workers when they become derisive about the broadening damp spot in your trousers.)

p.s.- I may have made most (read "all") of the facts and figures contained in this post up, so don't bother checking.

Sorry, Mom...Sorry, God.

2005-02-07T20:22:00.000-08:00

The title for this entry is for the last entry. I re-read it after having posted it and realized that there was some coarseness in it that might upset people like my mother. So, Mom, don't read the post below this one. And if you DO read it, don't say I didn't warn you. That being said it's time to move on to newer, fresher topics.

I kind of hate to be self-referential, but I have been thinking all afternoon about the post made earlier. (Okay, A: I don't really "hate" to refer to myself, I can just think of more interesting people to talk about. B: When talking about myself I am kind of uneasy, especially because sometimes...a lot of the time...people don't realize/think I am being honest and truthful. I usually am, because it is funnier.) I would now like to hedge my qualifications for everything written earlier today: I honestly have no idea where I get off trying to comment on how men think, or women think, and I certainly cannot be held accountable for my comments on where these two thinking groups meet.

I am essentially terminally single. I don't know why that is. I think I'm a real catch. Billy Burning says I'm the most eligible bachelor in Durango. My aforementioned mother would probably concur on my "catch" status, but she is bias. What it all boils down to is that I do not understand women even a little bit. I cannot read them, I get flustered around them, and sometimes I literally can't understand them...they tend to mumble and I think my hearing is going anyway. If I think a girl is cute and stylish I cannot function around her. It takes me 4-E-Ver to get up the nerve to even talk to them, and then there is the stage where my brain and mouth do not function properly together and communication is limited. (This is part of why I think proper introductions are important, because it takes away the initial pain of approaching a stranger.) I also feel silly just walking up and talking to women that I don't know and have no legitimate reason to be talking to. It just all seems so stilted and awkward. Basically I do not know what to do and am in dire straits when it comes to the ladies...I think I'm worth dating, but cannot get to that point to test out my theory. (My being picky doesn't help either--I'll probably die single and lonely.)

So, I've been working out. My new plan is to get very buff and make myself as attractive as possible to the fairer gender (fluffing my plumage, if you will...) so that I might be able, in the near future, to attract a mate. The trouble with the social awkwardness mentioned above is that I'm pretty fun to hang out with and all that, it's just that a lot of gals will never find that out because I'm quiet in a lot of social settings, and as my sister says, my "face is kind of scary and mean looking" when I'm just walking around pretty much thinking of nothing. So whatever, hopefully I will be able to sell a lot of tickets to the gun show and have a few nice dinners. Because so far I've not seriously dated any woman who did not approach my amorously first. So maybe I should just sack up and talk to them, and stop being such a snob about personality, right?

So to summarize, girls are terrifying; but that's probably my fault. I'm going to be jacked so that I will have the ability to lift all sorts of cumbersome objects above my head--possibly I may even progress to being able to heave them, only time will tell. And again, sorry mom, for all the mistakes and errors in judgment, past and future.

Goodnight Springton, there will be no encore!

-A.R. Leith

WTF!?

2005-02-07T08:19:00.000-08:00

Okay, I know I promised I wouldn't do this anymore, but tough, you all have to read this...and ENJOY it. If I find out that you have not been enjoying it, there will be [ominous but non-specific] trouble.

I received this bit of gaffery from a young lady who shall remain nameless. I found it insulting, just a bit weird, and funny all at the same time. She asked me to respond to it personally, but I thought my responses and ideas to be so profound that everyone should read this business. My comments are the ones in parentheses. Enjoy:

What guys really mean when they say...
1. What he says: I love you> >What he means: Go down on me (Whatever, Ms. Garcia, I think you know my opinion on using the word "love", and if I want someone to go down on me I'll ask...or go down on her first, and hope she returns the favor...you scratch my back and all that.) 2. What he says: I need you> >What he means: My hand is tired (Depending on context the phrase "I need you" from me would mean "My hand is caught in the garbage disposal, please bring cooking oil." Or "I have a sickening pit in my stomach when you're not around."--depending on context.)
3. What he says: Im sorry> >What he means: Im not above begging for sex (I'm NOT above begging for sex, but it goes more like "C'mon, just tug on it a few times." I'm sorry means I did something stupid without thinking first, and you were right, god, stop bringing it up.)
4. What he says: Youre beautiful> >What he means: Id do you (This one is absolutely true, but goes only so far as physical appearance. A lot of women are beautiful, just not on the inside.)
5. What he says: Its a guy thing> >What he means: Its not my fault (When a guy says this it probably means that "I don't really understand this myself, and therefore cannot explain it to you. I feel stupid about that.")
6. What he says: We need to talk> >What he means: Im dumping you (Or...I failed a very important blood test. Either way it's not as pleasant as "I'd like to talk to you..and possibly tell you how much I like your new haircut and shoes.")
7. What he says: Lets just be friends> >What he means: I want to sleep with your friends (This is not true, I probably don't even LIKE your friends. ha! This probably means I don't really like women, and would like to try some stuff out with Fred from accounting.)
8. What he says: Its just not working out> >What he means: Youre not putting out (Or: "Stop talking to me so much. And why are you wearing my boxer shorts!?")
9. What he says: Its not what you think> >What he means: Its what you think (Did you surprise me in the living room with the vacuum cleaner and a bottle of lube? Then it's what you think, but a better statement would be "I know this looks bad, but I assure you...it's for science.")
10. What he says: What would you like to do> >What he means: Where would you like to do me (In this case I actually have a sever decision making disorder, so I probably want to leave the couch, but can't think of a good reason to.)
11. What he says: I like independent women> >What he means: That way I dont have to spend the night after I do her (Or I just like intelligent women, which is better.)
12. What he says: Whats your sign/whats your major/can I buy you a drink> >What he means: God I hope she swallows (Games are funny. Asking straight up to spoon is always the best policy. Kick her out of bed if she tries to push you into going farther than you want on the first date. Girls are so needy.)
13. What he says: Thats a nice dress/shirt/hair/eyes/shoes> >What he means: Nice breasts (It is becoming readily apparent that women don't think very highly of men, and I'm not saying that is unjustified, just that it's not fair. If women don't appreciate their bodies being appreciated they should wear baggy sweatsuits all the time. Otherwise just say thank you to a compliment and hope he likes you for more than whatever he complimented. If he doesn't then he's probably not a good guy to be dating. Too many women date shitty guys and I don't know why. Also, if I like your breasts I'll probably tell you that you have fabulous breasts, and ask to play with them a bit...you know, in a strictly platonic way.)
14. What he says: I like a woman with a sense of humor> >What he means: ...on her knees (Do guys really act like this? What are these accusations being based on? If a guy says this he either means "I like a girl who makes me laugh." or "I like a girl who laughs at my dumb jokes." One truly enjoys a woman with a sense of humor, the latter enjoys women who are dumb and think he's cute. werd.)
15. What he says: I wont tell anyone> >What he means: Except all the guys I know (WTF, negative stereotypes are damaging and hurtful. And you should really only tell people in other states.)

Okay, that's all that I have time for right now. Plus I don't like to think...and that is all the questions on the GD email. Sometimes typing is tiresome, you know what I mean? (rhetorical) If anyone has any ideas about topics that they would like to know about...anything in the whole wide world, email me. This'll be fun. It's like a school assignment without the grades...or recognition.

-A.R. Leith

Not so sure...

2005-02-04T17:32:00.000-08:00

I think maybe I should not be doing this blog thing. I was just cruising around some other blogs and started to worry. I don't mean to bag on anyone, but whathefuck.com!? There is a lot of artsy stuff, which is fine, this is an outlet, I understand that. But I think maybe there are people interested in driving the diary manufacturing industry out of business. What I saw was way too much way too personal information (including what appeared to be naked pictures of a girl who was WAAAAYYYY too underage to have pictures being taken of her while unclothed.) I used to say "pish posh" when people would say that the internet provides too much freedom to just about anyone. I don't have so much trouble understanding that statement anymore. This might be it for me kids.

A.R. Leith

p.s.- I'm not saying you shouldn't tell us about what you think, and what goes on in your life, but try to have a point and relate it to others and their lives...that way we can all enjoy it. Laters.

They're only famous...

2005-02-04T09:09:00.000-08:00

...because you look at them.

Three sources have gone to informing what you are about to read. First, I watch a lot of TV--particularly MTV, because you have to stay on top of what the kids are up to these days (know your enemy and all that rubbish)--so I feel I have a pretty good grasp on who celebrities are. Second, last night I read a very funny article by Chris Nieratko over in the "Skinema" section at Viceland.com which is nearly always brilliant and so off topic it is amazing. Chris was talking about the frailty of ego which is commonly present in celebrities. I concurred. Third, I recently had to research a presentation on the ethics of medical testing on animals. The most depressing part of this research turned out to be the PeTA web site, where a bunch of overpaid crybabies were complaining about how cruel we are to animals. We'll tackle this in depth in a few minutes...or longer, depending on how fast you read.

Okay, first of all, I was watching the "newlyweds" show on the MTV yesterday, and it was great. You know, you get to see how the other half lives (and in this case "other half" refers to those who lead mundane and sterile lives). Ignoring the obvious problems of continuing to call the program "newlyweds" despite the episode in question being about the second anniversary of the LaCheys (sp?) there are other problems with while this show is on the air. Not the least notable of which is that there is not enough Ashlee Simpson on the show. (I swear, she's great as long as you don't let her talk or sing.) But how can America be fascinated with the lives of these here people. First off, I'm fairly certain that they are nearly illiterate...and if not they pretend really well on television. If watching people go through their daily routines (Newlyweds, The Osbornes, Growing up Gotti, etc.) is so interesting, where is my fantastically large check for having people watch me mess up life on a regular basis. I'm sure my trials, tribulations, and miscues with the fairer gender are worth a daytime Emmy at LEAST! Let alone the fact that I seem not to have a filter between my brain and mouth, which makes for some veeeery uncomfortable situations. So is the only thing that is separating me from these people, and leading a fabulous life the fact that I am less good looking and more articulate? It could be. Baybe it is because all the people on these shows have love interests, where I am hopelessly confused by women. Although I think the latter is more interesting, if more lonely and irritating for the sufferer...Me. But whatever, that's just problem one.

Problem two for our purposes is that of Celebrity Activists. First and foremost celebrities (for the most part) are overpaid--severely overpaid--for the services that they provide to society. This problem is compounded when they are unwilling to compromise their overall lifestyle for a cause that they claim to be so "in to". Second how do so many celebrities deem PeTA to be the most worthy group to back in the known world. Primarily their backing of this organization kind of makes them a traitor to their species by not thinking about all the dying children and other humans around the world. Okay, I understand that there have to be more ethical and humane options to testing cosmetics and other unnecessary products than to use animal testing, but the children are our future. When did a bunny ever grow up to support you while you were in the old age home? Reversing Evolution is not really the answer to making the world a better place. Mostly it just makes people with expendable incomes feel better about themselves. Speaking of expendable incomes how can famous people defend their lifestyles when thousands of people are starving in the same cities where these movie stars, athletes, etc. are living? My suggestion is to just ignore celebrities until they go away. If a person makes a movie that sucks, take them off the artistic role call. Don't support their efforts anymore. Hopefully they'll go broke, and then if they truly believe in their chosen issues they'll KEEP fighting for them. The same goes for "sports stars", if they really love the game they play, they'll play it for a nominal salary in the city where they grew up, for pride and a love of competition...otherwise they are just greedy transient millionaires who do not deserve our respect, let alone our adoration.

Finally, as Nieratko points out, celebrities need to toughen up. You cannot put yourself on a global stage only to cry "poor me" every time someone says something remotely emotionally damaging about you. I grant that celebs can fight with poparazzi if they so desire, but I also would not mind if it turned into a brawl and teeth were lost and bruises received on both sides of the lens. Grow up, and have the strength of convictions to be who you are, for better or for worse. As they say in Vice, sometimes the most attractive person is the one who is cute, and can walk into a room with peanut butter on his/her face and still give you a look that says "what? Dick!"...own up to your faults and flaws, accept them and move on. It will mean less tears in the long run. That's for everyone, not just "famous" people.

Thank you, and good night!

-A.R. Leith

p.s.- The Cubs traded Sosa and I'm glad. If they somehow figured out a way to trade someone for Harry Carey, that would be fine too. Things can get better every day.

p.p.s.- I also wanted to add a suggestion for another band worth hearing, and that is the Tossers, they're on thick records, and if you like Celtic rock, and angry political music, buy every one of their CDs. Woot.

Decorum

2005-01-24T22:13:00.001-08:00

So today this kid shows up in class without any shoes on his feet. Health issues aside I think there is a problem here with decency and manners. (Not to mention that the very selfsame person was wearing his hat indoors...another issue entirely.) I'm not perfect. God knows I'm not perfect. But at least I make an effort. What happened to the world that everyone just does what "feels good" and not what is polite, decent, and mindful of other people?

First issue, being polite:
I try very hard to be polite whenever possible. (And if anyone who knows me and finds me being impolite, point it out..."I'll call you on your shit if you please call me on mine" -Propagandhi.) This covers the spectrum from even the most basic things like saying please and thank you to people when you want/receive something. That is just something you have to do, there are no if's, and's, or but's about it. Especially when the person who you are talking to is in the service industry. Don't take advantage of their civility or it may leave you with unidentified ingredients in your food. I once received an email from my mother that was a forward, which are silly by nature, but there was one lasting sentence in this whole electronic mail calling itself "the rules of life" that remains with me still--"If a person is nice to you, but mean to a waiter/waitress, they are not a nice person." But it should not stop there, open doors for others (not just women, but especially the elderly.) Don't wear hats indoors, men. Women, never admit to farting...Girls don't do that--I'm just kidding, women can do whatever they want...this IS the 90s after all. Just be nice to other people.

Second Issue, reflection/disturbing others:
Other people have eyes. Not just that they have noses, sensibilities and ideas about how the world should go. Unless you are an intentionally outstanding jackass you should be ever watchful of overstepping your social bounds when you enter into a situation. Every social situation has an acceptable set of behaviors that can land you in the good graces of anyone, if followed correctly. Basically if you are not able to behave yourself based on the norms of a situation you find yourself in you come across as ill-mannered, boorish, and--above all--selfish. Now, that is all well and good if that is how you want to put yourself out there for the world, but keep in mind that you are not only representing yourself, but also your family, your home town, and anyone else who had a hand in your upbringing. So yeah, you can go around thinking, it's okay if everyone in this room with me thinks that I'm a drunken lout, etc., but you have to remember that a good percentage of them are imagining you being brought up by yetis and shoving porridge down the front of your trousers while watching The Dukes of Hazzard reruns in a hovel somewhere. So do your folks proud and act like an adult, and know how to act out in public. Be cautious. "It is always better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to open your mouth and remove all doubt." I think Twain said that, but don't quote me on that.

Final Issue, dressing yourselves:
Dress like a hobo if you want, that's fine, but don't be mad if you are treated like one. Especially if you stink.

-Andrew R. Leith

p.s.- For those of you who don't know me...or don't know me very well here are some bands that I like, and think you should too:
1. The Smoking Popes-mid nineties emo-ish rock that is mostly about girls (but really Jesus)
2. [early] Lawrence Arms-snotty angry social commentary or melancholy lamentations, depending on who's singing.
3. Alkaline Trio-so sad it hurts...but in a good way.
4. The Dillinger Four-angry sociopolitical rock that takes forever to understand (listen with the lyric sheets out) but once you do gee-whiz is it good stuff.
5. The Weakerthans-every time it reminds me of a laaaazy autumn afternoon...Delightful.
Okay, that's all. Type at you later!

Guilty...but why?

2005-01-14T23:14:00.000-08:00

As men, what are we?

There are things in my head--questions mostly--that can barely bear examination. For example, why are we (meaning men...and not men in the sense of humanity, but men in the chromasomal sense) so freely and easily controlled by sex and sexuality? A broad (no pun intended) question, I know...but one that seems to need asking.

Sitting early yesterday morning in a large metropolitan airport I was once again faced with a burning question about the members of my gender when it comes to dealing with the opposite gender...nay anyone we find attractive to be more fair and correct; why are men so needy, lewd, and indiscreet? Oh, of course most men think they are being discreet, but no no there is hardly anything about our leering that would suggest discretion. Two examples from the morning of 13 January 2005 come as a blatant example of the bluntness and uncontrolable/seemingly incurable male behavior to which we are all prone.

First, while parusing the latest and lamentably last issue of Freeze Magazine--one who's passing will leave a void in the literary development of many skiers--while waiting for boarding to begin on my flight to Chicago from Albequerque I sat and watched as the crowd began to grow. Among that predominantly male growing crowd were four people I thought of note. Person number one was my dear dad, who is a good man, despite some of his faults. Persons number two and three were two men with unfortunate hair. One of these men looked to be in his 40s or 50s and was wearing what can be described as a "cosby sweater" and his companion was a twentysomething with a "George-Cloony-circa-E.R. era-roman-hairdo". The fourth and final member of the silent melodrama that I watched being acted out in the terminal this sunny morning was a shapely young woman who appeared as though she could have been anywhere from her mid twenties to mid thirties.

The action unfolded thusly: The young woman approached the gate as she walked down the terminal. I looked up from my ski-porn long enough to assess that yes, she was good looking, but I wanted to know more about the everyday life in Are, Sweeden, so it was back to the ski rag. All of the sudden my father uttered the tell-tale old man phrase of seeing something pleasing but probably unatainable and my attention was grabbed by the slightly lecherous "oh MY" that issued from his lips. (First of all there is something about that phrase when it comes from an older gentleman that has a sort of foppish quality to it, but we are not going to get into that today, other than to say that it often sounds like the "oh MY" should be followed by "what DOOO we have HERE!?" But that's just the way I feel about old men being creepy, and that's neither here nor there within this discussion.) Anyway, over the next three quarters of an hour I was intrigued not by the actions of the young woman in question, but by the actions of the other men around me.

Q-1: Do men really think that women cannot see them when they do the none-too-subtle "look over the shoulder as though taking in your surroundings but really just end up staring at a woman" maneuver?
A-1: I submit that, yes, a great many men fancy that they are quite the sly fox when busting out this move, when, in reality, even if the woman at whome their attentions are being directed does not catch their gaze there are other people around who see their actions and wonder why their gender is so creepy. Although guilty of the same activities now and again myself it seems all the more pathetic when you catch someone else in the act of sneaking a peek. If you find a woman attractive, talk to her. Chances are a lot of people are too scared to hit on her and it may be your lucky day and you'll find a special gal...(funny advice, I know because many of you who know me can attest that I am the last person to take action, even when intense attraction is involved, but it is SOUND advice, even if the author here is trying to live up to it himself.)

Q-2: What is up with men's fascination with sex?
A-2: Turns out that while sex is a lot of fun it's a very strange activity once you get down to brass tacks. If it was meant as something purely as a tool for reproduction why does it feel so good? Are the good sensations a necessary way for humanity to involuntarily bolster population levels? Truth is I don't know but next to making-out sex is about the weirdest thing normal people do. Everyone knows that sex sells, but why is that? How did so many men around the world get behind the idea that "If she'll just take her top off I'd be glad to give her a good portion of the money I have on my person right now?" The sex industry is a multi-million dollar a year moneymaker all because it has been proven time and time again that men will throw money at exposed body parts without any realistic hope of love or relationship. There is something about the hope that men get from naked women that buoys men's generosity and ultimately their wallets. It's mind boggling, really.

The second industry of this Thursday last is that a taller gentlemen who was standing to fiddle with his items in the overhead compartment allowed a flight attendant to pass him in the aisle, but then gave her the full body once-over with his eyes when she had passed. Supremely creepy, this move was noticable to everyone except those directly involved in the action. Somehow there is some cuircut in men's brains that makes it impossible to just allow any relatively young and fit woman to pass by without making her the source of scrutiny and/or fantasy.

Try as I might to rise above these problems I recognize that I am a member of the male gender in modern society and I will still foster urges that ought to be repressed to check out every woman that walks by. I don't want to be dirty and weird. In fact, I want to be able to base a woman's appeal on the things that come out of her mouth more than what she's wearing, but it's a long process of reprogramming my own mind, and I'm getting there--slowly but surely I am getting there--and someday it will be all about personality and all anyone will have to look for in the opposite gender is someone who it is fun to spend time with and everything else means fuck-all. If we all keep looking we'll find that special man, woman, someone special that we all would like in our lives without becoming a spectacle of unwitting embarrassment to those around us in society. Because, that someone is out there, we just need to hope to find them before it's too late.

-A.R. Leith

p.s.- If you're bored and online check out www.viceland.com and www.mnftiu.cc That's all for now and I'll try and make things more interesting and updates more frequently in the future.

Confusion, it would seem.

2005-01-04T22:26:00.000-08:00

Right-o, it would appear that there was some confusion over the contents of the gibberish that I typed down yesterday, so this little bit is just to clarify before I sleep:

The crux of the update of 4 Jan. 2005 was that there are a lot of people out there who talk just to be talking to people, and that's not all that rad. Now it is understandable just to pass the time with your friends by chatting idly about whatever, but it is quite another thing to come at a stranger with a subject matter that is superficial and nobody should really care about. I don't know, maybe I'm just bitter, but whatever.

The point is, "Shut your mouth and open your eyes". There is a whole big world around us every day and a lot of people are so busy talking about useless crap that many a wonderful thing just passes us by. For me it goes back to my feeling about being in school...it is hard to learn with your mouth open. Take in the world around you and talk about those things that really matter to you and others. I think it makes for a better connection with the people in your life, and it definitely makes for better conversations.

Alright, that's enough for now. More later...if you're lucky. Ha!

-A. Leith

Commas and Ellipsis...

2005-01-03T23:33:00.000-08:00

An excellent point was made today in a movie I was watching (Garden State, if you haven't seen it, you should.) that there are no real beginnings or endings in life...that is until the very end where there is an ending, but nobody is really sure about that one yet. Put into punctuational terms the theory is that no matter what happens until the big final "?" there are only commas and ellipsis in our lives that are bridges to other eras in our time here on earth. A very interesting idea to ponder. Especially since I am generally of the belief that life might just be a series of disappointments. But is it really, or are people--me in particular--looking at the wrong part of their situation. Of course there has always been the phrase "When one door closes, another door opens", but that's bollocks and so cliche that it kind of hurts my head a little bit. The truth, however, is that there is a lot of opportunity to be had in everyday life if you just have the proper perspective on things. Paying close attention, like close listening or reading, often produces some of the most staggering possibilities where there once were none.

Without the lows in life could we really enjoy the highs? Having often been told that the music I listen to is "depressing" and "too angry" I cannot be bothered because to me the music is hopeful in that there is always the underlying opposite amplitude of the wave that is implied but not expressed by many singer/songwriters. So yeah, I listen to whiny emo rock sometimes, because the implication is that before the times being whined about there were good times and smiles and something that felt so good that it couldn't possibly end...but it did end, and when it ended it hurt all the more. So the downs correspond to the ups. That IS life, and that is what makes life good.

Okay, I know this entry is getting clogged up with quotes (especially since I have just recently been accused of singing to myself too much) but the next two are from the same band and just might be pertinent to the topic at hand: The dillinger 4, a lovely little rock outfit out of Minnesota with a lot of sage advice/thoughts on the world around have quipped "thousands of us dead today, thousands went unfed today, and all we talk about's the fucking weather." and they also asked us to take head of windy city author Nelson Algren and "celebrate the ugly things." I would like to ask everyone who reads this, and I know it might not ever be many, but take time out of your day to think about both of those statements. First, take notice of the content of your everyday conversations, does it really ever mean anything, does it get us anywhere, or does it just distract us from the ills of the world. Second, having looked at what we talk about and why can't we then find the beauty in all the things that we have not been talking about all this while. Not so much beauty in the sense that it is right or good, but beauty in the sense that it gives us understanding of the world and, more importantly, the people around us. Can we really understand the pain and joy of the world if we consistently ignore it because it would disrupt our bubble?

Since we're already here and busy doing it just two more quotes before I'm done and sleeping:
"Is it really worth talking when everything goes left unsaid?" -The Lawrence Arms
"Do we ever take the time to really discover how little we know about each other?" -Less Than Jake

-A. Leith

p.s.- check out Timberlake's page at www.larakin.blogspot.com he has lots of pictures and such, where I have none. I'm not good with pictures.

Mistakes Are Just Fine...

2004-12-25T23:22:00.000-08:00

...Just don't make excuses.

Here's a thought; having recently had an altercation with a member of the local ski patrol I came to a realization. Nobody wants to hear excuses. Bitterly angry and bickering it struck me that the man in the red jacket before me did not care to hear WHY I had done what I had done, whether from ignorance or malice (It was from ignorance I assure you, dear reader. But, more on that later.), he was merely concerned with my immediate and ongoing cessation of said action.

There is something pure and wholesome about that desire. Personally, when something goes wrong I do not want to hear a litany of events and causes leading up to what went wrong, all I want to hear is a little remorse for the mistake and a genuine promise to not allow any recurrences of the problem. I think that is fair and just--not to mention a big time saver. Armed with that knowledge I want everyone to go out into the world and treat others as they would like to be treated. Everyone makes mistakes. Some are bigger than others, but they still happen. Be understanding. That cannot be too much to ask.

As for the above mention of ignorance-
While often bandied about as some sort of insult meant to make others feel intellectually inferior being ignorant is a horse of a different color. Stupidity is the result of having been educated and then having forgotten. On the other hand being ignorant is the state of never having known, which is a much more excusable offence. As this relates to my day on the slopes yesterday, obviously I have not been keeping abreast of the slow zones on my home mountain as they are multiplying like bunnies in the spring--or third grade math students, you choose whichever analogy you are more comfortable with--but the run that had been designated as "slow" was not in any way marked on the actual mountain. I was incredulous. I was lectured. I was made an example of. And finally, I was let go unscathed, but miffed. Miffed, because I am not a mind reader (also evidently not a trail map reader...) and did not know, somehow without being told, that I was in a slow zone and therefore expected to--get this--SLOW DOWN. I am over it now and have debated sociology, physics, and anatomy over a nice dinner at my father's house, but it did bring something odd to mind...

Awhile back I was watching the MTV and saw a gripping documentary on Brittany...britteny, britny, britain...whatever, that Spears girl. The film crew was following her through the rigors of her latest tour at the time, and let me tell you I was exhausted just watching it all. However, that is beside the point. The point is that young BS was defending her [presumably] friend Jessica Simpson's antics on the television by pointing out that if she was never told about the things in life that she is confused about--which seems to be just about everything at this point...why in one episode she was eating something that she thought to be chicken when in all reality it turned out to be a 1/4 scale model of the Edmund Fitzgerald--how could she be expected to know the difference. Although I have watched this "Newlyweds" program on several occasions and have yet to see any proudly displayed doctorate certificates the point being made is valid. Without prior knowledge how can she be expected to use sound judgment. After all it is fairly easy to confuse a tragically-lost-Great-Lakes-freighter for a bit of shredded chicken. We've all done it. They're both fairly nautical, right? All's I'm saying is that maybe we should be looking more at her father for the reason she's not so bright. The old "keep your attractive and somewhat talented young daughters dumb so you can manage them and live off of them forever" ploy. Seen it a thousand times and it never gets easier to take, let me tell you. Tragic.

So two lessons should be learned here today. 1: If it is your fault, cop to it. "Yeah, I'm sorry about that, I'll try not to let it happen again." Should suffice. If that doesn't cover it try throwing kitty litter in your assailant's face and fleeing through the nearby shrubs. That should work, because there are always kitty litter and shrubs near by...just keep an eye out. 2: Do not confuse ignorance for stupidity. You should gently inform/educate the ignorant, giving them the tools they will need to succeed in later life. You may soundly rap the stupid on the forehead with a framing hammer; they'll thank you for it later [if they get the chance].

Okay. Good talk. Read...BREAK!

High-Fives Are Out

2004-12-22T21:02:00.000-08:00

Okay, this issue is almost the dead horse of the year, but everyone seems to want to keep fighting for the life of the barbaric ritual known as a high-five. There are numerous reasons that this activity should be curtailed immediately. First, it is silly. Nobody ever, EVER, looks cool (see also--"hip" "rad" "hott" "neat") when giving a high five. Near as I can tell it is something for drunk dudes to do when they want to show friendship without any of the mess of being possibly somehow in a round about way perceived as being desirous of one another. Which brings us to reason two to knock-it-off; association with meatheads. The high-five is so tough-guy-nineteen-eighty-five that it hurts. The only time when a H-F might not make you look like a total meathead is if there is a little jump involved AND both parties completely miss. Then it is kind of funny, and maybe cute in a corny way, but that is the only time. Finally the main reason that the high-five should garner immediate disfavor for participants is that it is over used, played out, far too common. Honestly, it has gotten to the point where people will give eachother the ol' high-five for just about anything. "Hey, you didn't wet your pants today, buddy, good job...how's about a high-five!?" or "Yeah, this pornographic moving picture that I have procured from my father's 'secret' collection is so awesome I'm going to watch it with my male friends, with no women within 3000 yards of us! Where's that five? Up high? You got it!!!" So, basically, the rule on this--as it should be on almost everything in life--is that if you can not imagine someone you want to be (really want to be, like a "role model", not kind of want to be like a celebrity who can get away with being a bonehead just because they are overpaid talking heads with a tan, you know?) doing said activity, then maybe you shouldn't be doing it either.

Another blight on society is the constant complaining by people with access to the internet without the offering of helpful solutions or alternatives. So here are a few of those:
Remember, High-Fives, BAD
Repeated Euro Kisses on the Cheeks, good
Hugs, good
Leaving Someone Alone for a While, good
Side Fives, 'til spring '05 tops
Plutonic Mouth Kissing, good
Random Slow Dance, good
Do-si-do, so rural-retro it can't be bad
Handshake, classic/classy
Longing Glances, better than average
Meaningful Double Hug, awesome
Knowing Glance w/Smile, exceptional
Wink AND Pistol Finger, great...but only when together, never separately.

Aaaaanyway, that is all there is to be said about the subject of high-fives for now. You may still do them if you so desire, but do not get all huffy if someone declines with a look of terror and a shake of the head, they have just moved on, and with their help you too may move on. Try something new and different, watch out for ruts. And come back later for a look at celebrities. Because they deserve it.

-A. R. Leith

spring break 2005; pants party woooo!!!

2004-12-20T21:17:00.000-08:00

My friend mike just asked the definition of perverbial...which I assume is something referred to by perverts. Anb that's fine, because without those people the van-with-tinted-windows-and-a-bed in-the-back market would competely go into the toilet, and THAT would not be good for the economy. These people are similar to college kids in that they spend money when they ought not simply because they cannot help themselves. The economy in our modern day is largely based on the people that just cannot help but spend their money, even though it might not be the best decision that they could make. Which is good.

Okay, this IS the first blog (or whatever the kids are going to call this by the time tomorrow comes--speaking of which, there is a poigniant song lyric that has been haunting me lately that goes, "When tomorrow comes where will yesterday be?" I say haunts me, because it is a very good question; what is the point in bothering today becaue tomorrow our efforts might be moot...that is if tomorrow ever gets here. But I digress.) Aaaanyway, I'm writing this on a laptop, and I hate laptops, not because of the potential impotency, because that might be a welcome change from the junior high-esque state of my current crotchal affairs of getting a boner every two hours like clockwork, but because they are just uncomfortable for me to type on, so I promise to write more here when I have a proper keyboard in front of me, so please come back and we'll have good times together.

A. R. Leith