I don't have a link to it, but apparently the Obamanation is proposing to cap business owners salaries at 50 times what the lowest paid employee makes.
Lets say I make $10,000 per year. Many draw less than that due to lack of experience. That means that "Massive Bookstore Chain Owner" only gets $500,000, on which he has to pay taxes. That's roughly 1/5th of what "Massive Bookstore Chain Store Manager" makes in a year.
This is a ****ing travesty. Is $500,000 a lot of money? You bet. Should it be any of the government's business to regulate how much that business owner can make? Not just no, but HELL NO.
You know, let's just go over to the dark side. Elect Obama, he can ritualistically shred the US Constitution at his inauguration, declare the US to be another Socialist state like The Benighted Kingdom, and we can just get it over with.
I'm sick to death of this thousand cuts crap.
Bring it on.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Not A Lot Going On
...right now. Working, a lot. I've got lots of school. What free time I have, I spend plotting world domination and writing. Actually, just writing. Not a lot going on to blog about here. No political character has unveiled their new 5 year plan, though I'm expecting that from Clinton and Osama pretty soon.
Life is just a drag right now.
Life is just a drag right now.
Vote Cthulu 2008!
Why vote for a lesser evil?
Seriously though, I voted for Ron Paul in the primary. It does no good, I know. And I'll still end up voting for that rat-b*st*rd McCain in November. But I've voted for the only worthwhile candidate while I could, and I feel good about that.
Seriously though, I voted for Ron Paul in the primary. It does no good, I know. And I'll still end up voting for that rat-b*st*rd McCain in November. But I've voted for the only worthwhile candidate while I could, and I feel good about that.
Monday, February 18, 2008
seaQuest DSV
I'm most of the way through Season 2. So far we've had aliens, time travel, giant alligators, Atlantean ghosts, aliens again, evil psychics, Greek gods, vampire demons...coming up we'll have more psychics, and aliens yet again.
This TV show is killing my braincells, and yet I can't look away. I REMEMBER this stuff! I watch it and I smile.
So cool.
This TV show is killing my braincells, and yet I can't look away. I REMEMBER this stuff! I watch it and I smile.
So cool.
Monday, February 11, 2008
The Brave One
This movie has it all. It joins such greats as Red Dawn, The Patriot, Shooter, and Uprising in the category of movies that should be shown, four times a year, to every child in public school, so long as we allow public schools to continue their malicious and unconstitutional existence.
Jodie Foster plays Erica Bain, who's engaged to Sayid from Lost. She's beaten near to death and he's killed in a spurt of random violence while walking their dog in central park.
Upon waking up, she's shaken. DUH. On impulse she goes to a gun store to buy a gun. This being the high-crime, gun-free utopia of The People's Republic of New York, the harried gun shop owner tells her to apply for a license and come back in thirty days. When she says "I won't live thirty days" he tells her "That's the law."
You have no idea how hard I clapped for that part. All the subtlety of a sledgehammer.
She's eventually sold a Kahr K9 by a guy who overheard the conversation, and she starts carrying it.
The second time she's the victim of random violence, she's a little better prepared. She terminates the man who kills the convenience store clerk who's store she's shopping in, moments before he could attack here.
Let's just think about this for a minute. We've got a woman, who was denied a gun by the government of New York, buying a gun AND carrying it illegally, defending her life successfully.
How DID this movie get made? Seriously. What bed-wetting liberal Hollywood producer was smoking crack when he greenlit this movie, and how can I send him some more crack to smoke? I want to see more of these types of movies.
Erica Bain then starts haunting the bad parts of the city, killing the people who try to take advantage of a petite, middle aged female, who's walking through the bad parts of New York alone.
Eventually she finds the scum who murdered Sayid and took her dog, and after some really, really good one-liners, kills all three of them, with the assistance of the cop who's been hunting the "vigilante" who's been stalking the city.
Along the way we have some soft girl-rock introspective moments, and a whole lot of Dennis LeHane style grit and angst as Erica goes from average Jane to someone who's not incredibly bother by taking out the trash, figuratively. One of the cool things that this movie doesn't delve into is her motives. Yes, she's hunting the city. Why? She obvious is distraught over the handful of notches on her gun's grip, why does she keep going back.
No easy answers, just lots of good old-fashioned American justice, and a couple really touching scenes with a dog.
Last year it was Shooter, which featured Mark Wahlberg beating up cops and shooting U.S. senators with the incredibly manly 1911. This year it's Jodie Foster illegally carrying a concealed weapon and being applauded for it. At long last, there's a part of this country that I don't fear for quite as much. Maybe Hollywood is finally pulling their head out of their nethers and taking a peek around.
Jodie Foster plays Erica Bain, who's engaged to Sayid from Lost. She's beaten near to death and he's killed in a spurt of random violence while walking their dog in central park.
Upon waking up, she's shaken. DUH. On impulse she goes to a gun store to buy a gun. This being the high-crime, gun-free utopia of The People's Republic of New York, the harried gun shop owner tells her to apply for a license and come back in thirty days. When she says "I won't live thirty days" he tells her "That's the law."
You have no idea how hard I clapped for that part. All the subtlety of a sledgehammer.
She's eventually sold a Kahr K9 by a guy who overheard the conversation, and she starts carrying it.
The second time she's the victim of random violence, she's a little better prepared. She terminates the man who kills the convenience store clerk who's store she's shopping in, moments before he could attack here.
Let's just think about this for a minute. We've got a woman, who was denied a gun by the government of New York, buying a gun AND carrying it illegally, defending her life successfully.
How DID this movie get made? Seriously. What bed-wetting liberal Hollywood producer was smoking crack when he greenlit this movie, and how can I send him some more crack to smoke? I want to see more of these types of movies.
Erica Bain then starts haunting the bad parts of the city, killing the people who try to take advantage of a petite, middle aged female, who's walking through the bad parts of New York alone.
Eventually she finds the scum who murdered Sayid and took her dog, and after some really, really good one-liners, kills all three of them, with the assistance of the cop who's been hunting the "vigilante" who's been stalking the city.
Along the way we have some soft girl-rock introspective moments, and a whole lot of Dennis LeHane style grit and angst as Erica goes from average Jane to someone who's not incredibly bother by taking out the trash, figuratively. One of the cool things that this movie doesn't delve into is her motives. Yes, she's hunting the city. Why? She obvious is distraught over the handful of notches on her gun's grip, why does she keep going back.
No easy answers, just lots of good old-fashioned American justice, and a couple really touching scenes with a dog.
Last year it was Shooter, which featured Mark Wahlberg beating up cops and shooting U.S. senators with the incredibly manly 1911. This year it's Jodie Foster illegally carrying a concealed weapon and being applauded for it. At long last, there's a part of this country that I don't fear for quite as much. Maybe Hollywood is finally pulling their head out of their nethers and taking a peek around.
Kane And Lynch: Dead Men
If Michael Mann made a computer game, this would be it. Hardboiled characters, blood, awesome weapon selection, gritty story...and that's just the demo.
If I weren't committing all my resources to preparing for Hillary 'Antichrist' Clinton or Barak Huessein Osama to usurp the White House, I'd own both this and Crysis.
If I weren't committing all my resources to preparing for Hillary 'Antichrist' Clinton or Barak Huessein Osama to usurp the White House, I'd own both this and Crysis.
Monday, February 04, 2008
Lyrics Double Header: Johnny Cash - What Is Truth
The old man turned off the radio
Said, "Where did all of the old songs go
Kids sure play funny music these days
They play it in the strangest ways"
Said, "it looks to me like they've all gone wild
It was peaceful back when I was a child"
Well, man, could it be that the girls and boys
Are trying to be heard above your noise?
And the lonely voice of youth cries
"What Is Truth?"
A little boy of three sittin' on the floor
Looks up and says, "Daddy, what is war?"
"son, that's when people fight and die"
The little boy of three says "Daddy, why?"
A young man of seventeen in Sunday school
Being taught the golden rule
And by the time another year has gone around
It may be his turn to lay his life down
Can you blame the voice of youth for asking
"What Is Truth?"
A young man sittin' on the witness stand
The man with the book says "Raise your hand"
"Repeat after me, I solemnly swear"
The man looked down at his long hair
And although the young man solemnly swore
Nobody seems to hear anymore
And it didn't really matter if the truth was there
It was the cut of his clothes and the length of his hair
And the lonely voice of youth cries
"What Is Truth?"
The young girl dancing to the latest beat
Has found new ways to move her feet
The young man speaking in the city square
Is trying to tell somebody that he cares
Yeah, the ones that you're calling wild
Are going to be the leaders in a little while
This old world's wakin' to a new born day
And I solemnly swear that it'll be their way
You better help the voice of youth find
"What Is Truth?"
------------------------------------------------
My brother made a mixtape when he was six. I remember sitting on the duplex living room floor picking out songs with him. We put it together from my dad's old records, big records from cardboard boxes, singles from plastic cases. That tape persisted for the longest time, I think the last time he played that he was fifteen or so. Tape's been a part of my life for the longest time, and this was, I think, the second song.
The reason I post this tonight is because I'm wrestling with a question very close to the premise of the song. Not "What is truth?" but "What is our duty to the truth?" Do we have an obligation to tell the truth, a duty to be exercised at all times? Is it worth destroying relationships for? When a person is unredeemable, does telling the truth even matter? Can a person ever be unredeemable? What is truth worth, at what point is the human cost not worth it?
And when I close my laptop and sit here, staring off into the darkness, I'll remember sitting on the living room floor with my brother. And I'll hear Johnny Cash saying "What is truth?"
Said, "Where did all of the old songs go
Kids sure play funny music these days
They play it in the strangest ways"
Said, "it looks to me like they've all gone wild
It was peaceful back when I was a child"
Well, man, could it be that the girls and boys
Are trying to be heard above your noise?
And the lonely voice of youth cries
"What Is Truth?"
A little boy of three sittin' on the floor
Looks up and says, "Daddy, what is war?"
"son, that's when people fight and die"
The little boy of three says "Daddy, why?"
A young man of seventeen in Sunday school
Being taught the golden rule
And by the time another year has gone around
It may be his turn to lay his life down
Can you blame the voice of youth for asking
"What Is Truth?"
A young man sittin' on the witness stand
The man with the book says "Raise your hand"
"Repeat after me, I solemnly swear"
The man looked down at his long hair
And although the young man solemnly swore
Nobody seems to hear anymore
And it didn't really matter if the truth was there
It was the cut of his clothes and the length of his hair
And the lonely voice of youth cries
"What Is Truth?"
The young girl dancing to the latest beat
Has found new ways to move her feet
The young man speaking in the city square
Is trying to tell somebody that he cares
Yeah, the ones that you're calling wild
Are going to be the leaders in a little while
This old world's wakin' to a new born day
And I solemnly swear that it'll be their way
You better help the voice of youth find
"What Is Truth?"
------------------------------------------------
My brother made a mixtape when he was six. I remember sitting on the duplex living room floor picking out songs with him. We put it together from my dad's old records, big records from cardboard boxes, singles from plastic cases. That tape persisted for the longest time, I think the last time he played that he was fifteen or so. Tape's been a part of my life for the longest time, and this was, I think, the second song.
The reason I post this tonight is because I'm wrestling with a question very close to the premise of the song. Not "What is truth?" but "What is our duty to the truth?" Do we have an obligation to tell the truth, a duty to be exercised at all times? Is it worth destroying relationships for? When a person is unredeemable, does telling the truth even matter? Can a person ever be unredeemable? What is truth worth, at what point is the human cost not worth it?
And when I close my laptop and sit here, staring off into the darkness, I'll remember sitting on the living room floor with my brother. And I'll hear Johnny Cash saying "What is truth?"
Lyrics Double Header: Johnny Cash - Hurt
I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
The only thing that's real
The needle tears a hole
The old familiar sting
Try to kill it all away
But I remember everything
What have I become?
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know
Goes away in the end
You could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you Hurt
I wear this crown of thorns
Upon my liar's chair
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair
Beneath the stain of time
The feeling disappears
You are someone else
I am still right here
What have I become?
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know
Goes away in the end
You could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you Hurt
If I could start again
A million miles away
I would keep myself
I would find a way
-----------------------------------------
Yeah, I know, it's not Johnny Cash, it's Nine Inch Nails. Yeah, I don't care. I only listen to the Johnny Cash version.
The music video is touching. It shows him eating and drinking, alone, surrounded by wealth, remembering his life on the road, and more importantly, his wife (who'd recently passed away).
It's desolate and sad and it really is the picture of a man at the very end of his life. Very sad. I think, watching it now, that he would've given everything he had, and everything he'd ever been, to have his wife back again.
The way the song is played, it's completely haunting. Just that guitar, the piano, and his voice, all building to this crescendo at the end. It's relentless, just keeps driving. Meanwhile, the video goes into overdrive showing scenes from his life interspersed with scenes of crucifixition. Strange, but it works.
To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
The only thing that's real
The needle tears a hole
The old familiar sting
Try to kill it all away
But I remember everything
What have I become?
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know
Goes away in the end
You could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you Hurt
I wear this crown of thorns
Upon my liar's chair
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair
Beneath the stain of time
The feeling disappears
You are someone else
I am still right here
What have I become?
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know
Goes away in the end
You could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you Hurt
If I could start again
A million miles away
I would keep myself
I would find a way
-----------------------------------------
Yeah, I know, it's not Johnny Cash, it's Nine Inch Nails. Yeah, I don't care. I only listen to the Johnny Cash version.
The music video is touching. It shows him eating and drinking, alone, surrounded by wealth, remembering his life on the road, and more importantly, his wife (who'd recently passed away).
It's desolate and sad and it really is the picture of a man at the very end of his life. Very sad. I think, watching it now, that he would've given everything he had, and everything he'd ever been, to have his wife back again.
The way the song is played, it's completely haunting. Just that guitar, the piano, and his voice, all building to this crescendo at the end. It's relentless, just keeps driving. Meanwhile, the video goes into overdrive showing scenes from his life interspersed with scenes of crucifixition. Strange, but it works.
Friday, February 01, 2008
Sitting Here
My laptop says the time is 2:44am on February 1st.
I've just finished watching 3 horrible hours of seaQuest DSV Season 2. That show takes me back in time. Very few things can inspire wonder in me, and though the crabby old man in me winces at the worse-than-Red Dawn dialogue, the 7-year-old little boy in me is filled with wonder. I watch it and I feel like a little kid again, sitting on the floor in our old duplex, the angled fall sun fighting through the plants in the front window, hoping that my parents will let me finish an episode before bed. It's a nice feeling.
The reason I'm watching seaQuest at 3 in the morning is licking herself in the kennel next to my knee. One of our rats had surgery yesterday, and my mom watches here during the day, I watch her at night. I figure the next time I'll sleep overnight is probably Sunday or Monday night. I'll nap 2-3 hours at a time once or twice a day until little rat can be left unattended for more than 15 minutes.
I'm about 6 hours from being legally intoxicated due to lack of sleep. Four days of this to go. Welcome to Hell.
I've just finished watching 3 horrible hours of seaQuest DSV Season 2. That show takes me back in time. Very few things can inspire wonder in me, and though the crabby old man in me winces at the worse-than-Red Dawn dialogue, the 7-year-old little boy in me is filled with wonder. I watch it and I feel like a little kid again, sitting on the floor in our old duplex, the angled fall sun fighting through the plants in the front window, hoping that my parents will let me finish an episode before bed. It's a nice feeling.
The reason I'm watching seaQuest at 3 in the morning is licking herself in the kennel next to my knee. One of our rats had surgery yesterday, and my mom watches here during the day, I watch her at night. I figure the next time I'll sleep overnight is probably Sunday or Monday night. I'll nap 2-3 hours at a time once or twice a day until little rat can be left unattended for more than 15 minutes.
I'm about 6 hours from being legally intoxicated due to lack of sleep. Four days of this to go. Welcome to Hell.
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