Enlightened Conflict

the strongest bridge

May 20th, 2013

So.

hope bridge by michael underwood

Several of my friends give me crap because of some of the obscure things I have stored away in my pea like brain <because I tend to read random obscure things and store it all away>. Therefore they ask me random obscure questions to see what I have stored away.

The random question this time?

What is the strongest bridge in the world?

My random answer?

Hope.

Hope is the strongest bridge in the world.

“All the great things are simple, and many can be expressed in a single word: freedom, justice, honor, duty, mercy, hope.” - Winston Churchill

Well.

It was a flippant response on my part … but it kind of made everyone at the table sit back and hesitate … because it is one of those rare insightful non-smartass flippant responses.

Ok. First.

To be clear.

I am not a psychologist <nor psychiatrist … I get them mixed up> nor am I a behavioral scientist <possible a mad scientist though … a childhood goal>. I say that because I may just not know jackshit. But here’s what I think.

Lots of discussions about the strongest motivators/demotivators on human behavior seem to revolve around fear, love, self esteem, hate , etc. <Maslow created that excellent chart which I have used so often and adhere to> … however … I tend to believe that all these experts overlook hope.

Research digs deep down into the moments of minutiae with regard to why we do the things we do.

Heck.

That is how the best companies in the world attempt to derive strategies to make their companies <and products & services> a success in people’s heads, hearts & wallets.

In my own pea–like brain something shadows each response found in research … hope.

“The present is the ever moving shadow that divides yesterday from tomorrow. In that lies hope.” - Frank Lloyd Wright

I imagine it is so often overlooked as something impactful or something we should pay attention to because it is stealthily present in everything. Yup. Everything. Attitudes & behaviors. Thoughts & actions. And because of its omnipresence it gets overlooked as “non differentiator.”

Silly thinking.

Because it is everything.

It is what someone called “the well of self” which can permit you to begin again … and again.

“Hope arouses, as nothing else can arouse, a passion for the possible.” – William Sloane Coffin

Everyone wants to be aroused by the possible.

And I am not even talking about this in the grandiose abstract <dreams and such> but even in the drivel of the day.

A grocery shopper has the simple hope that everything will be found as quickly as possible.

A coffee drinker hopes that the first sip is everything they expected <and desired>.

A father hopes his daughter has a good day at school.

You get it.

Hope isn’t often the really big things … it is in the gazillion little things that happen in everyday life as well as the big “I want a better life” type things.

And maybe that is why I flippantly suggested it is the strongest bridge in the world.

It is strong enough to span generations of years.

Strong enough to span yesterday to tomorrow.

Strong enough to span the micro-second subconscious thought.

So. I say all that maybe to suggest that losing hope deprives someone of an essential structure in Life. The bridge to … well … make it in Life.

To be able to get from here to there.

Now. That said.

I do believe more of those who actually have hope to share … should share it <pragmatically> with those who struggle to reach that bridge.

Yes.

I do believe professionally I am a ‘dealer of hope.’

Yes.

I do believe all forms of hope, realistic and unrealistic, are better than no hope at all.

Yes.

I do believe the moment you have lost sight of how to see, or reach out and touch, hope you have entered some version of Hell.

Sure. Life offers a multitude of disappointments. Life is not easy. But I fear it becomes unliveable without hope because then disappointment becomes infinite in a finite Life.

That, my friends, sounds overwhelming distressing even as I type it.

“We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope.” - Martin Luther King, Jr.

John Lennon suggested people like me … believers in hope … are dreamers.

Well.

Maybe.

But Martin Luther King also said this …

“The hope of a secure and livable world lies with disciplined nonconformists who are dedicated to …”

In a way … a secure livable world lies with those dreamers. We disciplined nonconformists. Or maybe more pragmatically … bridge builders.

The resilience of Hope lies in we happy few … we happy disciplined nonconformists … we happy believers in hope despite what appears to be an infinite disappointment.

We happy few who have bridges to share.

We happy few who constantly drink from the well of self and … well … know how to begin again.

So, yes, the strongest bridge in the world is Hope.

I have met the enemy (and it is we)

April 17th, 2013

“There is no need to sally forth, for it remains true that those things which make us human are, curiously enough, always close at hand. Resolve then, that on this very ground, with small flags waving and tinny blast on tiny trumpets, we shall meet the enemy, and not only may he be ours, he may be us.” – Pogo Possum

Pogo was a cartoon strip character … an amiable, humble, philosophical, personable, everyman opossum. Pogo was “the reasonable, patient, softhearted, naive, friendly person we all think we are.” He was also the wisest (and probably sanest) resident of the cartoon swamp

Ok.

The enemy … as in … ‘we the people.’

What happened at the Boston Marathon was a tragedy … a tragedy of human kind more than anything else.

A cowardly act committed by a misguided soul <or souls … yet to be determined>.

Oh.

I would like to take a moment and remind everyone that on that exact same day:

- - The Syrian Network for Human Rights said 126 people had been killed including 37 in Damascus. The Syrian Observatory for Human Rights, a British-based monitoring group, said 130 people were killed. These figures and reports cannot be verified because media access to Syria is limited.

- - A suicide bomber in Peshawar, Pakistan killed nine people and wounded dozens more at a Pakistan election campaign rally attended by a former cabinet minister in the northwestern city of Peshawar

Next.

This event reminded me of two others.

- – 1996: The Olympics in Atlanta. Two people died and 111 were injured after pipe bombs in a rucksack exploded in the Centennial Olympic Park. Eric Rudolph, an anti-abortion extremist, was jailed for life in 2003 after pleading guilty to the bombing.

- – 2008: Marathon in Sri Lanka. A suicide bomber killed 15 people including a government minister when he targeted the start of a marathon race near Colombo in Sri Lanka. The bomb killed 15 people, including a number of runners, and injured 90 others. The Sri Lankan government claimed the militant group Tamil Tigers were responsible for the attack.

Why did I begin there?

Boston Marathon tragedy. It would not surprise me in the least if we were to find there was no foreign influence or nefarious foreign underpinnings but rather this was some wackjob misguided American<s> making some point.

That said.

The day’s events made me think several thoughts:

- - An individual with intent to harm will harm. Especially if they are cowardly. If they hide from their actions and hide what they want to do and hide how they will do it … they will find a way to harm innocent people. I don’t say that to lessen the event or to suggest we shouldn’t be outraged when it happens … just that it can, and inevitably will, happen. The best systems in the world will not stop, 100%, an individual with intent to harm.

- - Events like a marathon, or any large sporting event, is staffed and are surrounded by very capable people to minimize the effect of large ‘intent to harm’ acts <I hope misguided wackos read that>. Their intent may be to destroy people … their will as well as their bodies. But in the end they will fail. The good of the capable rise to the occasion. And while devastation is … well … devastating. In the moment the doctors, the medical people, the firemen & police … step up to the plate and accept responsibility to manage the devastation and protect citizens from future & additional harm. Not every harmful act can be deterred or stopped … but they can be managed.

- - Words. Whew. Terror, terrorism … acts of terror. Pick your poison. Who cares? This was the first news media salvo in the war on words … ‘Obama strangely avoided the use of the word “terrorism” to describe the incident in his first comments hours after the bombings, even as White House officials were quick to call it “an act of terror.” But on Tuesday morning he noted that investigators were pursuing it as an “act of terrorism.”’

While politicians make every effort to distance themselves from the politics of an event like this <initially> you can almost feel them preparing the groundwork for the moment they can shift into politicking. Their biggest weapon? Words. They wield them like little armies trying to outflank the enemy.

My words?

It was a tragedy. A tragedy of humans. It is our job, no, our responsibility, to insure it doesn’t create terror. Eliminate the terror and it is not a terrorist act but rather simply an inhuman act. Therefore we do not seek to eliminate terrorists <who claim to have some cause> but rather we seek to eliminate the inhuman <who have no cause anyone would want to stand behind>.

In the end … terror gives them exactly what they want. Let’s not give them what they want.

- - News on TV. Oh my. Rarely have I been so disappointed in American television. Flipping channels you saw a battle of who could use the word terrorism first, who could speculate <with caveats> the most extreme and who could bludgeon you with whatever they had to bludgeon you with at that moment.

If anyone could use a lesson in “less words communicate more” the news industry is it. The American president used less than 3 minutes to say “we are not sure what happened or who did it and we will tell you when we do. Do not jump to conclusions. We will hunt down who did it.” The American news television have spent 30 hours doing that. The difference? News has filled the additional 29 hours and 57 minutes with speculation.

- Where we go from here.

First.

The London Marathon official … “we will proceed … send a very clear message to those responsible we will not be deterred.” The Brits have it right. In World War 2 it was “stay calm and carry on” <as bombs dropped nightly>. America is still shocked by domestic acts of terror. It happens other places … not here. We can either become a paranoid nation driven by fear of “what’s next” or a country that remains calm and carries on. This is our choice.

Second.

Unity and the blame game. I imagine I could have just said any actions which create division among Americans. It is a separate bigger thought but philosopher Leszek Kolakowski outlined something called “the Myth of Unity.” He suggested that there is a type of unity created as the result of a crisis or shock. He also suggests that is an artificial façade of unity which cannot survive where a consciousness of moral and political crisis has seeped through and taken root. I imagine my point is that not all moments are created equal. We can use this moment as one to focus on ongoing unity or diminish it by reverting back to the divisive path we seem to be moving forward on. Once again … this is our choice.

Anyway.

As I stated earlier … I would not be surprised if this was an American tragedy … Americans harming other Americans.

Terror these days is created by those close to home. Everywhere. Libyans harming Libyans. Pakistanis harming Pakistanis. Norwegians harming Norwegians. Americans harming Americans.

The list goes on and on.

We may seek to find enemies from afar … but most of them seem to reside within the confines of our own countries borders.

“we shall meet the enemy, and not only may he be ours, he may be us.”

I apologize if anyone believes I am diminishing the tragedy by using a quote from Pogo. But we seem often to seek evil anywhere but where we are <because we believe in good and believe we are a good country>. And even while that may be so <that we are a good country> there will always reside a ‘not good’ minority seeking to find a voice – going to whatever extent they need to do so.

Anarchists called terrorism “propaganda by the deed.”

Events like this are measured by the deed <by us> and by the propaganda <by them>.

Ultimately I would like the propaganda to be focused on whatever absurd irrational attitude that drove their behavior. But I am an attitudes & behavior guy.

Anarchists, wackjobs … the cowardly … actually have some attitudes or beliefs that drive them to this act of behavior. If we attack those things maybe we can deter people from having the attitude that creates this behavior. That is called “enlightening the ignorant” in my little world.

Anyway.

I was thinking about this and just began writing.

My thoughts go out to everyone and anyone effected by this act.

aging gracefully, scandals, legacy & judgment

April 10th, 2013

Sorry.

This will be a winding post including Rick Pitino, Margaret Thatcher, Ray Lewis, Annette Funicello and Rutgers.

But the past several days has made me think about legacies … and judgment. We judge every day … sometimes simply an event … or a moment … and sometimes reflectively. All I know for sure is that we seem to be quick to judge, relentlessly unforgiving in the moment and oddly selective in circumspect.

Anyway.

Rick Pitino.

Rick Pitino is a great basketball coach.

But he also shapes young men. The other night I was watching a group of 18- to 22-year-old young men teach us a lesson about life.

<side note: to all the boomer 50/60something managers out there who bitch & moan about managing younger generations maybe you should put a picture of Pitino up in your office because he is 60 now … and was 40something when he brought a group of 20somethings to another championship and he was in his 30’s when he brought another group to a Final Four … maybe it isn’t the younger generation … maybe it is you? … oops … I digress>.

It would be easy to focus on his recent success … but his path to where he is today <I was tempted to use ‘greatness’ but didn’t> was not a straight line. There were failures and transgressions. Simply put … today he is not the man he was in his 20’s. Do we judge him on his hall of fame career? Do we judge on basketball statistics? How his young men athletes do in Life? How he did in his own personal life? Or do we judge him in totality?

Margaret Thatcher.

Margaret Thatcher was neither the smartest <a British paper used the word ‘cleverest’> nor the most eloquent politician of her generation. But she was without question one of the most determined. Maggie’s <that is what I called her> unwavering belief in her convictions is most likely her most important characteristic. Whether you believed she was right or wrong … you knew she said what she meant and meant what she said. It was never about style it was always about substance. The content was almost irrelevant because the intent drove in to the minds of people. Maggie did not become a great prime minister by being nice. She was tough-minded, determined, and convicted. Do we judge her on popularity? The success, or lack of success, of things she implemented? Do we judge her as a mother? Or do we judge her simply as one who led and not any specifics?

Annette Funicello.

On the same day Maggie died … Annette Funicello died at the age of 70 from complications of multiple sclerosis <which she had had for more than 25 years>.

For anyone growing up in the 1950s, Annette Funicello was a huge celebrity, one of the original Mouseketeers on Walt Disney’s “Mickey Mouse Club.” After it ended she had a couple of records and starred in Beach Blanket movies … then she left the business to raise her children. <trivia: Paul Anka wrote “Puppy Love” about her>.

Do we judge her on her insanely bad Beach Blanket Bingo movies? Do we judge her on being a Mouseketeer? Do we judge her on her moral compass? Do we judge her on the way she dealt with multiple sclerosis? Do we judge her in total?

Ray Lewis.

Ray Lewis is probably the polar opposite of Annette Funicello. Retired this year more as a motivational inspirational leader than the truly monsterly talented football player that he was. He was a beast on the field. So much of a beast that we may tend to forget that he didn’t become a beast simply by walking on the field … he dedicated himself off the field to not waste his talent. He was an imperfect man off the field … but focused on not wasting the one true talent he had – playing football. And you know what? His motivational ability was simply him sharing that conviction … make the most of what you have <and don’t let the other shit get in the way>.

Oh. Yeah. Ray may have shot someone. He may have just been with someone who shot someone. Ray was definitely a young punk in the 90’s. Brash, arrogant and wandering. Do we judge him as that? Or how he has matured? Do we judge him on an event or a series of events? Do we judge him simply for the fact he didn’t waste an incredible talent despite the fact at one point he could have chosen another path?

Ah.

The Rutgers basketball coach … and that path to choose I just mentioned with Ray.

If I were to judge this coach on a 30 minute video tape I would not judge him well. Please note that I believe this is not about any ‘generational style of coaching’ … his actions are, and were, unacceptable for someone who has the ability to shape and mold young men for life beyond sports.

But.

We never get to see the thousands of hours of coaching video that would make him look like a first round Hall of Fame coach.

Look. Someone could make a 30 minute video of me from my entire professional career that could make unhireable for the rest of my life. On the other hand someone could make a 30 minute video of me that could put me in the top boardrooms in the world.

Highlights, or lowlights, are just that … the peaks or the valleys. And it is silly to assume we are always at the peak of our best. You should notice that most of the great coaches being interviewed have been very careful about how they discuss the situation … why?

Geez. I bet even Pitino is sitting there thinking “whew … if someone went back to when I was a younger coach and created a 30 minute lowlight film I bet I wouldn’t look so good.”

We are being awful quick to judge this coach.

And being awful quick to judge how it was initially handled. Beyond the fact we are in a maniacally litigious world and the university is kind of trapped between ‘being in the right to fire’ and ‘providing the opportunity to improve’ … it would seem like the university <which is in the business of teaching people and improving them for future success> actually gave someone, who must obviously have some redeeming professional value, a good spanking, some good support … and then sent them back out to be a better person.

We are quick to judge the coach … and the university. And from the outside looking in sometimes objects look closer than they really are <sorry … that’s the side view mirror perspective on Life>.

Me?

What he did was unacceptable. What the university did was acceptable <in some ways>. Everyone should be careful how they judge … the event … as well as legacy of the event.

The point of all this?

We seem so quick to judge people these days. We judge with a strong dose of nearsightedness.

In addition we debate judging people on character, deeds or sometimes even lifetime consistency.

We forgive … but we don’t forgive.

Here is a Life truth.

If you sift through the rubble of anyone’s life you will find some cherished mementoes … and some rubbish.

Some people will hold the mementos high and declare sainthood.

Other people will flaunt the rubbish as proof of poor character.

It is all silly.

These people may not have been the smartest nor the most talented nor even the nicest. But they all had conviction.

Despite challenges and any transgressions they may have encountered they got their proverbial train back on the tracks and moved forward with conviction on what mattered to them.

Pitino has always been a great basketball coach. He is now a better man … and a shaper of young men.

Thatcher was never a great mind. She was a leader … not just listening to what people wanted to showing them what they needed.

Ray Lewis has always been a monsterly talented football player. He is now a monsterly talented football player who did not waste his talent.

Annette Funicello was never the most talented. But in the end she could certainly be judged well on moral compass and integrity and heart.

But what did they all have in common?

Conviction.

The Rutgers coach? He is at a crossroads. After the witch hunt has died down and we stop judging him as evil incarnate he can decide where he goes from here. And he has a lifetime to build events that will ultimately decide how he is judged. He will find this is a test of his conviction.

Ok.

I say all that to show judging a person is tough. They have professional success and sometimes Life success … and sometimes one or the other … and certainly some failures along the way.

And in the moment you are simply judging … well … a moment. Life is a series of events. Some good and some bad. Some gooder than others and some a lot badder than others.

But people have a lifetime of events to build a legacy for the rest of us to judge them on. And in the end they will be exactly as we expected them to be … flawed.

Me?

I imagine I would like to judge people not on their greatness or even individual events but rather how they dealt with the flaws in their life.

We can isolate specific events within a Life and find something good or something bad. That is easy. In fact … that is lazy judgment.

But judging how someone deals with the flaws … the mistakes.

Well, maybe, just maybe, that is judging their conviction.

And, well, conviction is a reflection of character … not brains nor genius nor talent nor skills.

let the clocks stop

April 6th, 2013

April is national poetry month. The concept of a month for poetry seems almost silly to me.

Well. I would imagine it would be silly to Plath, Browning, Longfellow and maybe even Frost.

Poetry is not a month. It is of a moment.

Time is, and always has been, the judge of poetry.

Time will sift the good stuff from the bad. Time will sift so you & I don’t have to.

You have to believe this … because in the here and now?

Writing poetry guarantees a poet one thing in Life … death by neglect.

But I believe poets write to insure feelings do not get neglected. They do one thing in Life … keep feelings alive.

Maybe better said … bring moments in Life alive.

Moments that only exist in the intangible … what you feel.

“The poet begins where the man ends.

The man’s lot is to live his human life,

the poet’s to invent what is nonexistent.” ― José Ortega y Gasset

Wystan Hugh Auden <W.H. Auden> pointed out that poetry is a way of happening.

Poetry brings out the moment within the Life moments.

But it is when I think of Auden I always remember the words … stop all the clocks … <most people will remember it from 4 Weddings & a Funeral>.

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public
doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

—–

note: Like many of Auden’s works it is most recognized by the first line “Stop All the Clocks”. It is actually called “Funeral Blues” and is the first poem in a duo titled “Two Songs for Hedli Anderson. It was first published in its final, familiar form in 1938, but based on an earlier version published in 1936.

Well.

I imagine writing poetry is not for the faint of heart or the thin of skin.

But I also imagine that a true poet seeks not a month for recognizing poetry but rather seeks to share a moment that makes someone feel something … if but for a moment.

I write <bad amateurish> poetry.

Regardless … I, just as any poet , amateur or published, probably hopes that some words we dare to put on paper stops all the clocks if but for a moment.

fear and love … Brel 2

January 19th, 2013

“We say we love flowers, yet we pluck them. We say we love trees, yet we cut them down. And people still wonder why some are afraid when told they are loved.” – Tween on Xanga

This was awesome.

I had never seen this thought before. Well. Certainly not said this way.

Tweens can say the smartest most insightful things.

Me?

I know I love love.

And I know I love to love someone.

And I am sure, in some way, I fear love.

And I know, in a constructive way, I fear being loved.

I imagine I am not alone in this paradox.

Love is a responsibility … when given … and when received.

Maybe now I know the reason I feel all these things.

Maybe I associate it with flowers and trees … <and getting plucked or cut>. And it took a tween to make me think about Love at all.

Regardless. If I could tell this tween anything right now I would use Jacques Brel to suggest a several things. First … everything ends … even love. Therefore you have a choice … think of the death of love or revel in its Life. Slide under the warm sheets of love and find its comfort … and use its comfort against the passing of time. Its death will come soon enough. Second. Death … yes … some things die when you fall in love and accept being loved. As with everything in Life some things get destroyed to create something new. Is it eliminating some baggage? Maybe. Is it about changing? Maybe. All I know is that when something new is created, even feelings, usually something dies to make way for it. Third. Jacques wrote a song called Tender Hearts where he sings of the heart …. where he suggests that there are ‘those with a heart so immense … that they are always on a journey’ … I would suggest to this tween that maybe the fear of being loved has more to do with the immensity associated with love rather than its death.

Here is Jacque Brel’s Tender Hearts:

Tender Hearts

There are those with a heart so broad
That one can enter there without knocking.
There are those with a heart so spacious
That we can see only half of it.

There are those with a heart so frail
That one could break it with a finger.
There are those with a heart too frail
To live like you and me.

Their eyes are full of flowers,
Eyes flush with fear,
For fear of missing the time
That leads to Paris.

There are those with a heart so tender
That songbirds alight there.
There are those with a heart too tender,
Half men and half angels.

There are those with a heart so immense
That they are always on a journey.
There are those with a heart too immense
they deny mirages.

Merry Christmas post Mayan apocalypse

December 25th, 2012

Well.

Merry Christmas to all … and now that we have survived the end of the Mayan calendar … well … those of us that have … maybe we can also eliminate some other myths <and be enlightened in some way>.

Like Donner & Blitzen.

Yup.

Let’s eliminate two of Santa’s reindeer. And, no, I am not a member of the NRA and, no, I am not a hunter and, no, I do not want to suggest they sucked at reindeer games and they … well … lost <in a big way>.

Christmas has many myths and legends but I will focus on Santa’s 8 reindeer and 2 in particular.

Yup.

8 <not 9>.

Rudolph just had a song … he was not really part of the Santa team. He was a ‘walk-on’ if we want to use sports terms.

The flying reindeer. The most well-known tradition <in western countries> with reindeer is Santa Claus <or Father Christmas> and the sleigh pulled by flying reindeer. Because of a song and a great television cartoon Rudolf became the lead reindeer. Regardless. The flying reindeer legend began in the early 1800’s <Rudolf did not join the Santa reindeer team until 1939>. It all began with a poem written by Henry Livingston, Jr. <although Clement Clarke Moore got credit for the poem despite not really being the author>.

Livingston, an expert on the subject of Dutch Folk law wrote the poem , A visit from St Nicholas, more commonly known as The night before Christmas in 1822.

<don’t worry … I will get to the point … but the whole Dutch thing is important>.

Anyway.

The eight reindeer.

Dasher.

Dancer.

Prancer.

Vixen <my favorite>.

Comet.

Cupid.

Dunder.

Blixem.

Uhm. Yeah.

Dunder & Blixem.

Not Donner & Blitzen.

Oops.

How did this happen?

Well. That aggravating Christmas ditty “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” was a 1949 hit tune sung and recorded by Gene Autry and based on a character originally created by a marketing team for Montgomery Ward <a now defunct retail chain>in 1939.

Anyway.

Rudolph song.

The lyrics were written by Johnny Marks, who borrowed most of the reindeer names from the 1822 poem “A Visit from Saint Nicholas”.

The original poem refers to “eight tiny reindeer” and gives them each a name: “Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now Prancer and Vixen!/On, Comet! on, Cupid! on Dunder and Blixem!”

Yup.

“Dunder” and “Blixem.”

I bet you <as i> have always heard “Donner” and “Blitzen.”

The former were Dutch names written into the poem by Livingston.

Only in later versions, modified by Moore in 1844, were the two names changed to German: Donder (close to Donner, thunder) and Blitzen (lightning), to better rhyme with “Vixen.”

Finally, for some reason, in the song “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” Marks turned “Donder” into “Donner.”

Whether Marks made the change because he knew German or because it just sounded better is uncertain. Or maybe he thought using German Donner and Blitzen (thunder and lightning) was cooler. Who the heck knows.

Bottom line? since 1950 or so, the two reindeer names have been Donner and Blitzen.

So what.

All I really know is that if 8 reindeer showed up on my roof I would not be yelling out their names … it would most likely be something like “holy shit.”

And if any of them answered to that it would truly be a Christmas miracle.

Merry Christmas.

darth to come out of retirement

December 8th, 2012

So.

Darth and his cat

Having just read that Disney plans to create the final movie trilogy of Star Wars <chronologically taking place after Return of the Jedi> beginning with the initial release in 2015 I was wondering what the heck Darth has been doing in retirement <because you know he didn’t really die>.

Darth is slightly reclusive so I had to be fairly industrious <and use all my ‘force’ to go undetected> to capture some candid snapshots of Darth at home <and let me tell you … if I got caught I assume the repercussions would have been extreme>.

Here you go.

An enlightened conflict exclusive.

Darth at home.

Snapshots into his life.

Harry Potter fan

Darth on his new bike

Darth and the house staff

Darth out for a drink at local bar

Darth at local convention

deer season

December 2nd, 2012

Well.

I am not a hunter but have friends who hunt. And I got into an interesting conversation because I thought it was simply “on this date grab your gun, wake up at some ungodly hour, put on something that kind of looks like it should blend in with Camouflage thong night at the gay disco, but wear at least one bright thing so you don’t get shot as a camouflaged deer, go out into the woods and shoot Bambi.” But, no, it is more complicated than that.

Mostly in that it becomes very easy to go out on the wrong day and get in trouble.

There are actually seasons based on the type of deer <Whitetail Buck, Antlered, Whitetail Doe, Antlerless or Button Buck>.

And then the actual hunting months and the specific dates during the approved months also vary from state to state and even from county to county within the state itself.

It can get confusing if all you want to do is go out and kill a deer one weekend.

Oh.

And then there is “choice of weapon.” Kind of like a duel <except the huntee doesn’t get a choice … just the hunter>.

Bows & arrows <sometimes called archery>.

Muzzle loading guns <think Civil War but 2013 style>.

Rifles <these are the snipers from all those cool movies with the shaky cameras that give you headaches>.

Sometimes they let the people with the bows & arrows run around at the same time as the people with the Civil War guns. Kind of like cowboys & Indians except they aren’t shooting at each other … just the buffalo.

The rifle season is almost always by its lonesome. I think these are the guys who stuff branches and leaves into their clothing so they look like walking shrubs as they skulk around in actual shrubs <and the real shrubs are the ones chuckling>.

And, of course, you always end up with stories like this:

<Arkansas>The Johnson County sheriff says a 43-year-old man is dead after he was shot by a man who mistook him for a deer.

Sheriff Jimmy Dorney says Thomas Edward Sears, who went by the name Eddie, was walking along a trail beside Horsehead Creek on Wednesday afternoon when he was shot.

Authorities say a man was sitting in a swing in his backyard when he saw movement across the creek from his residence. The sheriff says the resident retrieved a rifle and fired one shot at what he thought was a deer.

The resident found Sears dead of a gunshot wound when he went to investigate.

Shit. Look at what happened to Eddie … and I doubt he was white tailed, buttoned <whatever that is> or even antlered.

Look.

I admit.

I don’t “get” hunting but I have a couple of friends who love it <and they are good non-white supremacist and non antigovernment doomsday guys> and it is cool to see the antlers in the ‘man caves.’ Therefore … on with deer season.

For me? I will stick with the infamous McKenzie Brothers “beer hunter.”

I wish I could find a clip on youtube so you could see a game of beer hunter <shake one of the beers in a six pack and then each person has to pick one and open it next to your head to ‘hunt’ the shaken beer>. I know.

Mature.

In lieu of that i have included the infamous “how to get a mouse in a beer” McKenzie Brothers clip:

How to get a Mouse in a Beer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GsgVspgy184&noredirect=1

Happy Hunting.

porky’s goes to the olympics

November 10th, 2012

Oops. I meant to post this earlier.

Apparently a diehard fan of the movie Porky’s attended this year’s London Olympics.

Yup. Some <creepy> guy was nabbed peeking into the women’s showers:

- Locker-room voyeur sentenced

A British judge says a voyeur who snooped on members of China’s Olympic swimming team risks being sent to prison if he enters a female locker room in the next 5 years.

Declan Crosbie was sentenced Monday after he previously admitted a charge of trespass with intent to commit a sexual offense. Prosecutors told Leeds Crown Court that the 25-year-old snuck into a locker room at a swimming training center, and was caught peeking over the top of cubicles as female Chinese Olympic athletes got changed.

When staff went to investigate, Crosbie hid in a cubicle and imitated a woman’s voice.

Judge Peter Collier banned Crosbie from female changing rooms or toilets for 5 years. Any breach of that ban could see him jailed.

Well.

There are so many things to comment on I am not sure where to start.

- Imitating a woman’s voice?

Begs the question … did he do it in a Chinese falsetto? did he speak in Chinese? What exactly did he say?

Note: I give him credit for creative quick thinking … but now I have visions of RuPaul at the Olympics.

- Banned from female changing rooms or toilets for 5 years?

Whoa. Does that mean after 5 years he can hang out in female changing rooms <or toilets>?

Note: this kind of sentencing makes you really wonder about a legal system.

Regardless.

Creepiness aside … I found this interesting because in the 80’s two movies came out at the same time with voyeur scenes … one was creepy (Porky’s) and one was hysterically funny in its absurdity (Animal House).

Porky’s was just a bad movie. But young boys flocked to it reveling in it’s over the top imagery of all that a testosterone driven male loves to imagine.

Porky’s is embodied not only by the double entendre of Porky’s bar name but also the girl’s locker room scene: http://www.funnyscreen.net/play.php?vid=770

Note.

<I bet detectives found a well worn HD version of Porky’s in Declan Crosbie’s flat>

On the other hand … Animal House remains a classic today. Brilliantly written with an amazing cast the movie is not defined by its voyeur scene but rather that scene is defined by the absurdity of it and the non-creepiness of the character. To this day … I still laugh my ass off watching Bluto slam the ladder against the sorority house as he shifts it from one window to the next <and no one notices>.

The famous pillow fight with “peeping Tom” Bluto <John Belushi> outside on the ladder. http://www.metacafe.com/watch/1151936/mary_louise_weller_from_animal_house/

Regardless.

When you read a story like this, the peeping guy at the Olympics, you not only think “WTF” but you also have to think … “and what exactly was he thinking that made him think this was a good idea?”

Oh.

And be reminded to watch Animal House again.

happiness and halloween

October 31st, 2012

Ok.

I swear I learn something new every day. But holidays <although Halloween isn’t a real holiday … it is … well … just a day that has a different name then the other days> seem to teach me some simple complex things.

Halloween?

Well. it has taught me some things about women:

http://brucemctague.com/5-things-witches-have-taught-me-about-women

And this year?

Happiness. Or maybe let’s just say the simple joys of childhood.

Some background. A new family moved in next door and they have reminded of the simple joy of childhood and Halloween.

I knew my little world would change when an 8 year old boy and 2 girls, one 10 and one 13, became my new neighbors.

Mornings become a whirlwind of walking to the school bus and a variety of cars stopping by to pick up what seems to be dozens of girls giggling in the driveway.

It really sunk in several weeks ago one Saturday afternoon as I sat on my front porch typing on my laptop and I could hear some boys laughing and yelling in the distance. Similar to a fire engine when driving you hear the warning siren but are unsure whether it is nearing or will simply stay somewhere out of sight in the distant the cacophony meant nothing to me until it crested the top of the hill and veered onto the road in front of me. I look up to see two bikes and a skateboard zooming around the corner.

And not three boys but skeletor, spider man and superman yelling and laughing at each other <boys in costumes> as they crashed into the driveway next door when Nicholas (actually a cowboy) comes running out with pistols and hat and … happiness.

The girls and their friends sit after school on the front porch next door laughing and giggling and listening to music.

The birds and arguing squirrels have been replaced by the simple joy of childhood.

Surprisingly I love it.

Who would have thought how exciting it would be to see if batman and a cowboy could make a basket at the hoop in the driveway?

Anyway.

Halloween.

Halloween really reminded me of the simple joys of childhood. And it reminds me that sometimes we adults, in the attempt to constantly teach our children lessons, forget that sometimes the best lessons are the ones when we leave the simple joy unfettered.

This means Halloween isn’t anti christian.

It isn’t about the worship or glorification of witchcraft.

It even isn’t about greed and how much “booty” you can get walking from house to house.

It is the joy of dressing your house up with pumpkins and fake spider webs and “boo” stickers in the house windows and multiple bats on stakes carefully arranged in the front lawn.

It is how a 13 year old girl stops being a moody tween and being with her mom side by side carefully crafting the perfectly designed front porch for everyone to see and experience when they trick or treat.

It is the little boy and his dad carefully building the skeleton’s grave in the front yard with its ball and chain and his own pirate hat he lends the skeleton just for the occasion.

It is the full house display … built 3 weeks before Halloween night … and constantly changing as the children add or subtract things as they think of it.

It is the motion activated creepy music dangling spider that the wind makes play in the morning as the girls run out to the school bus <and they laugh>.

Yup. Halloween is simply an event where, if we adults permit it, we get an unfettered view of the simple joy of childhood.

I know I am guilty of over thinking on occasion. And I do believe we adults are often over sensitive to lessons and political correctness and insuring our children “understand” things.

But sometimes it’s nice to let children be children and let them enjoy the simplicity of childhood.

I know that having a new family next door, while noisier, is a good thing.

While I love the sounds of birds in the morning and the crickets at night I am not sure there is a better sound in the world then the laughter of a child.

Halloween awakens happy, fun, childhood memories. Trudging door to door on a trick-or-treat mission dressed in a costume waiting to hear the voices of other faceless costumes walking by to hear, and see, if it is someone you know <in a hopefully less cool costume>.

The excitement of walking the neighborhood streets at night. Freedom and laughter.

Halloween continues to be filled with fun … walking in the chill of autumn wearing costumes which permits an uninhibited make-believe night be a ‘real dressed up’ night, and, of course, the semi-hedonistic joy of the full sack of candy.

If we permit it … once a year … Halloween invites us to reenter the world of a simple childhood.

Some may choose to view Halloween with some sinister connotations but to most of us it is simply a time of fun dressing up with friends and laughter.

Enjoy Halloween for exactly what it is … the pure and simple joy of childhood.