I know, I know… hair is never actually that color. Artistic license!
That’s it. I am going to settle the Israel versus Palestine problem once and for all.
Those of you following the news will know that the Israeli government has stepped up their attacks on Palestinian settlements, in response to a number of recent suicide bombings performed by Palestinians. Israeli Prime Minister Ariel Sharon has said that these acts are of a war for the survival of Israel.
Well, no.
Suicide attacks are horrible, awful things, and there is no question about that. But for Sharon to suggest that war is necessary for Israel’s survival, even if suicide bombings continue, is nonsense. It is not Israel that is in danger of extinction.
I feel a great deal of sympathy for the families and friends of innocent bystanders killed in a terrorist bomb blast. But I also feel sympathy for the average Palestinian who wants simply to live and work and raise his family in peace and comfort. The Israeli government does everything it can to prevent that from being possible. In fact, Israel seems to get away with a lot of basic human rights violations based on the assumption that ALL Palestinians are suspected “terrorists”.
Imagine armed troops constantly roving the streets of your neighborhood. Imagine the threat of being arrested or shot if you stay out past an unreasonable curfew. Imagine getting arrested on charges of suspected “terrorism” and, after being subjected to beatings and extravagantly cruel interrogation techniques, being sent to prison for four years without a trial, or with a trial that is obviously rigged against you. Imagine having to commute three hours every day to and from your job, where you work hard all day in a country that lives well and doesn’t want you there; and then going home at night to a house which is not much more than four walls, a dirt floor, and a plastic tarp for a roof. Imagine living in that house with your wife and three children, not to mention your sister and brother-in-law and their children. Imagine burying your teenaged son because he happened to be standing in the general direction from which a rock was thrown at a soldier.
The Palestinians are a desperate people, and they are running out of things to lose. Constant attacks from the Israeli military will only exacerbate the problem. Another issue is that not all Palestinians share the same ideology. Arafat is a leader to many, but not all. Isolating him will not end the terrorist attacks; it might well increase their likelihood.
Frankly, I don’t even understand how such a society can exist in this day and age, particularly after the events of the twentieth century. Even South Africa ended apartheid. The Israeli government is wrong, wrong, wrong. And to all the politicians and pundits who keep going on television and saying that Palestinians don’t care about a reasonable quality of life as much as they do seeing Israel dead: Israel has GUNS. Israel has MISSILES. Israel even has NUKES. The Palestinians have ROCKS. Why are you afraid? Allow them a reasonable quality of life, and see if their perspective changes. Just don’t punish the entire Palestinian population for the actions of a few.
I recommend the graphic novel PALESTINE by Joe Sacco, published by Fantagraphics Books, to anyone who wants to know more about this subject. Read it, and you will learn that the Israeli government is just as cold, heartless, and out-of-touch as our own.
 |
"What the hell? Where am I? And what are you doing here?" |
| "Unless I’m mistaken, I believe that we’re in heaven." |  |
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"Do you think? I don’t seem to remember dying. You’d think I’d remember something so significant." |
| "Perhaps it happened while you were asleep." | |
|
"Well, what about you, smart guy? Do YOU remember dying?" |
| "I seem to recall suffering from some sort of brain disorder." | |
 |
"Hello, fellas, good to see you. Miltie, Dudley." |
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"God!" | |
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"Nah, it’s me, George. So, it looks like you fellas have passed away!" |
| "So it would appear." | |
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"Heh. Lemme show you guys around. Heaven’s a real nice place to live. Friendly people, lots of sunshine… not too many teenagers." |
| "Good. These teenagers and their rock music!" | |
|
"Of course, age no longer means anything here. I mean, I’ve been polishing my stand-up act, and all the great bits about being old I used to use? Gotta take ‘em out. The audiences here will laugh at them, but only to be polite." |
| "What about adult diaper routines?" | |
|
"Those are out too. On the plus side, here in heaven there is no need for adult diapers." |
| "I can tell this is going to take some getting used to." | |
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"Don’t worry mate, we’ll help each other out." |
| "George Harrison!" | |
|
"That’s right. I’m so relieved to finally see another Englishman here… most of us have gone to hell." |
| "Wait. Are you telling me that Lennon kid didn’t make it into heaven?" | |
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"I think it was the ‘bigger than Jesus’ bit that damned him. That and writing ‘Imagine’." |
 |
"Hey, fellas." |  |
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"Jack! Walter! Good to see you." |
| "Have you seen Billy Wilder, by any chance?" | |
|
"We heard he fell off a turnip truck." |
| "No, he didn’t! He died of pneumonia! What do you want to go around saying a thing like that for?" | |
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"I’m just saying what I heard. That’s all I’m saying. Putz." |
| "Sorry, guys, me and Dudley here just came in, and Billy Wilder wasn’t with us." | |
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"He’ll be along shortly, Miltie, I just heard it on the radio." |
| "Frank Sinatra? How did you get into heaven?" | |
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"Let’s just say that now me and the big man are square." |
| "Hello! My, what a very interesting place!" |  |
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"Say goodnight, Gracie!" |
| "I liked you better before you looked like a chimp!" |  |
SURVIVOR AUDITION VIDEO
RAW FOOTAGE SHOT LIST, TAPE 1, 9 APRIL 2001
0:00:00 // hi there red light
0:00:25 // arms folded reacting
0:00:54 // gimme some emotions
0:01:05 // music in later
0:01:16 // cover pimple
0:01:30 // pimple saltwater
0:02:00 // my cat his name is sam
0:02:22 // who could make me do that
0:02:30 // emotions
0:02:40 // hunger
0:03:06 // urine
0:04:00 // whiny guy who sits around
0:04:21 // tasteful couch
0:05:00 // oh lord I’m so hungry
0:05:19 // does it hurt my chances
0:07:52 // possible interaction other tribe member
0:08:25 // handie appears
0:08:57 // sammy enters the shot
0:09:34 // whisper sammy
0:09:52 // I don’t think he’ll tell
0:10:10 // strong
0:10:50 // push ups not boot camp
0:11:27 // eleven?
0:11:39 // full grown cat
0:12:20 // strong enough for thatch!
0:13:05 // floor jumping jacks
0:13:27 // trying to sleep
0:13:42 // I heard it is
0:13:57 // lip smacking
0:14:38 // sean cannery
0:14:58 // whole tape sammy head
0:16:53 // my surviving?
0:17:45 // america will find dorks charming
0:17:55 // lips
0:18:05 // farting noises
0:19:26 // fart menagerie
0:20:38 // feral?
0:20:55 // fingernails
0:21:19 // wild animals
0:22:51 // 10 seconds
0:23:26 // peekaboo
0:24:00 // dumb umbrella dancing
0:25:05 // I will pretend to be afraid of bugs
0:25:29 // burnett
0:26:00 // mess with me?
0:27:10 // comic books
0:28:15 // cute naked girls I don’t have a girlfriend
0:28:35 // drawings on the wall
0:29:14 // non-skinny people
0:30:45 // failed drawing 1
0:31:27 // failed drawing 2
0:32:07 // failed drawing 3
0:34:09 // giving up
0:35:02 // smurvivor
0:35:15 // outsmurf
0:35:58 // chair as luxury item
0:36:30 // luxury item bull shit
0:37:30 // infected myself
0:38:05 // heartworms
0:38:12 // shits
0:38:43 // all trees allergy
0:39:00 // all animals with hair and also without hair
0:39:15 // inky substance on contact
0:39:44 // motorboat lies
0:39:59 // world series
0:40:09 // long walks on romantic beaches
0:41:27 // shrugging
0:41:39 // me me me
0:41:46 // I’m your winner
0:42:30 // cell phone stapler
0:42:52 // stapler idiot
0:43:09 // monkey laugh
0:43:30 // chair dancing
0:43:49 // falling you didn’t see that
0:44:35 // military service
0:45:51 // pretty good at sittin’ around on my ass
0:46:12 // survivor vs. big brother
0:49:18 // and my cat feels the same way!
0:50:00 // mask take 1
0:50:57 // hormone?
0:51:07 // mask halloween
0:51:55 // feeling down
0:52:16 // mask as luxury item
0:52:48 // fellatio laughter
0:53:14 // fellatio keanu
0:53:43 // mountain dew
0:53:56 // gum arabic
0:54:00 // drink whole mountain dew
0:55:00 // official sponsor
0:55:14 // spokesperson material
0:55:23 // pointing ends
0:56:25 // guitar
0:57:34 // surviverrrrrrrr
1:00:38 // dork wad vs.gay wad
1:00:53 // eat shit
1:06:39 // push it
1:08:12 // cool keyboard sounds
1:11:16 // bad andy kaufman
1:12:31 // voila sil vous plait
1:13:24 // slide whistle
1:13:51 // thread bare blue jay
1:14:03 // large breasted bald canary
1:14:20 // wacky owl
1:17:54 // sammy plays in window
1:18:16 // talking about walks in the city
1:19:08 // as above
1:20:02 // as above
1:20:30 // funny faces
1:20:56 // hi, my name is lucas hackett
1:21:10 // america wink
1:21:25 // teeth?
1:21:44 // oral hygiene in the outback
1:22:00 // fingernails have tiny ridges
1:23:00 // most people’s teeth are made out of teeth
1:23:18 // everybody has teeth
1:23:37 // I defy you
1:24:24 // outwit, duh, outplay, duh, outlast
1:26:00 // talking to a tape
1:26:50 // what I will
1:27:12 // when I was in elementary school
1:27:42 // kick ass
1:28:12 // rude gesture
1:28:43 // pee-wee herman don’t deny it
1:29:26 // johnny johnny whoops johnny
1:29:39 // bill cosby
1:31:00 // the no-talent chair dance
1:31:30 // a jester a joker a fool if you will
1:32:57 // niche: pixie
1:33:45 // I like my hair
1:33:52 // winning eyebrows
1:34:39 // bobby pins
1:35:24 // handie reappears
1:35:51 // let it snow?
1:36:52 // under my skin
1:38:38 // a few things about my hair
1:39:20 // funny funny hair
1:40:08 // marty we gotta get to the time machine
1:40:20 // no mousse no gel no spray
1:41:26 // happy trails
1:41:50 // are you lonesome tonight
1:43:05 // tell the survivor producers one thing
1:43:50 // late 1998 early 1999
1:44:31 // when I think of
1:45:05 // and now I have zeal
1:45:30 // everybody think like this?
1:45:50 // spread awareness
1:46:50 // dayton ohio
1:47:12 // cat is a cat
1:47:15 // you’re so cute ouch meow bite tail
1:48:05 // my family
1:49:05 // outdoors experience
1:49:22 // dying to do it
1:49:50 // ya gotta do it
1:50:40 // how ya doin
1:51:58 // je me sens faible
1:53:02 // money is not as important to me
1:53:14 // hot chicks
1:53:33 // sparks fly
2:01:02 // thumbs to me
Because I am so gosh darned creative, and because I cannot for the life of me think of anything to write, I am posting another drawing.
Contrary to popular thought, I also draw pictures of girls when I *do* have a girlfriend.
Desperate for ideas, I spent this evening rifling through papers from college. For the most part, the search was a wash; however, I did happen to find a very charming picture I doodled while I should have been taking notes in film class. It warmed my heart and made me smile.
Unfortunately, something is wrong with my scanner, so instead I have lovingly redrawn the picture. I feel that I have captured its magical essence. Enjoy.
If you don’t get it, well, maybe you should take a film history class, bucko!
I have invented two new words and have already begun to incorporate them into my daily vocabulary.
When we feel like eating, we are hungry. When we feel like drinking, we are thirsty. When we feel like getting busy, we are horny. But what if we feel like going to the bathroom?
There is simply no delicate way to articulate this feeling. “I’ve gotta pee.” “I have to poop.” “I need to drop a deuce.” These crude expressions need to be replaced with new words that allow us to express our feelings without getting into the mechanics of the activity.
Enter shisty and pisty.
shisty [shih'·stee]
adj.
1. Desiring to defecate.
2. Having a sensation in the body wherein defecation seems imminent.
Example sentence: It never fails; an hour after eating a chili dog, I’m always shisty.
pisty [pih'·stee]
adj.
1. Characterized by or expressing a need to pee.
2. Having a sensation in the body wherein urination seems imminent.
Example sentence: The doctor asked for a urine sample, but I simply wasn’t pisty.
Take these words, and use them in good health. Try to work them into the conversation next time you are in a social situation. Definitely slip them in the next time you visit the doctor’s office. Together, we can do it!
Now that I have some great new words to use when such situations arise, I’ll have no qualms at all about telling everyone EXACTLY how I’m feeling! Why, I’m shisty right now! Wouldn’t you like to be shisty too?
I would be remiss if I neglected to share any of the art I am working on. Drawing is fun, after all.
No, I don’t know where her other arm is either.
Inspired by Mr. Matt Fraction on his forum.
My friend and noted train fetishist Jim Ellwanger recently brought to my attention the website http://www.chicago-l.org/, which is, as it says on the front page, Your Chicago Rapid Transit Internet Resource!
Within this site is an almost frighteningly complete and detailed history of Chicago’s rail transit system, known to some as the “el”, and to others who are clearly smarter as the “L”. I have been an avid “L” rider for the past few years, and I am sincerely interested in learning about this subject. Already I have spent many hours curiously combing through the site’s artifacts, looking at pictures of old cars that are no longer in service, reading about stations that have long since been abandoned and demolished, and looking at maps of the crazy twists and turns a railroad track can go through while wending its way from one end of the city to the other.
Why, did you know that the Yellow (Skokie Swift) Line, which is now an express train running between two stations only, used to have several stations along its route? Did you know that on the Purple (Evanston) Line, there was once a station called Calvary next to the large cemetery just north of Howard? And that that station was abandoned and left boarded up for the better part of a century before it was finally demolished just a little while ago? It’s all true!
Did you know the north branch of the Red Line used to be connected to the south branch of the Green Line, and that the west branch of the Green Line used to be affixed to the south branch of the Red Line? And they didn’t even change that until the early nineties! Of course, this was before they named the lines for colors, so they had no idea the trains were mismatched!
Why, with all this exciting transit history to learn, I can almost understand train fanaticism!
I said almost, Jim.
My midlife crisis continues.
It is true that I have not really entered midlife at this stage, unless I plan to die at fifty or so, which I do not intend to do ? I plan to live a good century and a half longer, or at least until I pay off my credit card bills. At the same time, however, I figure that getting a midlife crisis out of the way early in life will clear up the schedule for a far more interesting midlife crisis down the road. Therefore, I am confronting my difficulties.
The first step in confronting one’s difficulties is to determine to some degree of accuracy what they are. The processes which are flawed or repetitive must be solidified, and not left as vague, abstract concepts. For instance: “I feel like my life is going nowhere.” Let’s toss this one into the garbage. First of all, “feeling” something doesn’t make it so. Second, “life” is too all-encompassing a term, and who says it is supposed to “go” anywhere? Why, just this morning, my life went to work. Clearly, that is not the meaning our wistful moaner wishes to ascribe to this statement, but if he could see through the gloomy gray clouds in his brain, he would see that his lamentation is overbroad.
“My career has stalled out.” You won’t catch me saying this ? I don’t have a “career”. I don’t know if I want one. In my purview, to define a career for oneself is to build a large brick wall around one’s world, to limit one’s options. For some people, this is probably a good thing, and I am not suggesting that I am superior to anyone for disagreeing; in fact, it may even bespeak a lack of maturity on my part. I am guessing that it is almost a universal truth that looking for a job is a tedious process, with little reward for the energy invested. However, on top of this I seem to be irrationally afraid of seeking employment. I am certain that if I put in the effort I could at least be considered for some position or other that would pay me a fair amount of money for my skills. But I neither have nor want a “career”, and so I drift aimlessly, thinking only about what I don’t want to do instead of what I want to do. Going back to school scares me also, but not quite as much, for some reason. Perhaps, then, grad school is on my horizon.
“I am getting old.” Everything is relative, of course. While I have left the demographic that MTV shoots for, I am still squarely in the range most advertisers are looking to sell to. But aging is a lot more than moving from one demographic to the next. Another part of it is seeing everything that you remember from childhood transformed. Tiny trees become giants. Giant trees die and get chopped down. Housing developments are built on top of all the dirt bike trails in the woods behind your backyard. Your ex-girlfriends from high school get married, have children. Your high school itself is for all intents and purposes torn down and rebuilt from scratch ? and then, after you graduate from college, suddenly you find that the landscape you became so used to has been altered as well. What of this nostalgia? Actually, I think I’ve come to terms with this one fairly well. Old memories are often worth revisiting, but to try to re-live the past will invariably result in disappointment. This may be why Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace was received so poorly. (Or, possibly, it was a terrible movie. I didn’t think it was terrible, but then Natalie Portman makes me weak in the knees.)
Another important aspect of aging is the increasing attention one must pay to one’s body. For the last five years or so I have maintained the same basic diet and exercise, and only very recently have the effects of this regimen begun to visibly show ? in the form of, in my case, fatty fatty fat fat. The weak daily workout I have created for myself might keep the gut size in check for a little while, but certainly this bit of my life could stand a bit of revising. And illness ? I get sick a lot more often than I used to. It is actually a lucky morning for me if I don’t wake up feeling nauseated. It is unlikely that I am pregnant, but for now that is my only working theory.
I’m sure my sleep patterns are only exacerbating the problems. I go to bed between 2 AM and 3 AM most nights, and wake up at about 8 AM. It could be a lot worse, but I’m definitely dangling off the low end on the scale of recommended sleep ideals. I simply can’t get to bed any earlier, though, and I don’t really want to. I have so much trouble ending my day. As a result of this, though, I am basically tired all the time. Surely there is a better way to live one’s life?
But even after the identification of the problems comprising one’s midlife crisis, implementing solutions can prove extremely difficult. At the moment, I am nonplussed, and hoping everything sorts itself out. I am disappointed that I have not had any epiphanies or feelings of catharsis while writing this; but then again, if one lives one’s life in pursuit of catharsis, one is probably doomed to a lifetime of disappointment.
Damn it. I think I would like catharsis.
Kiss me, I’m Irish!
We ought to fish well and diligently, as our Lord exhorts. Hence, we spread our nets so that a great multitude and throng might be caught for God.
— St Patrick, an Englishman
Bless me, I’m Irish!
I have one word to say upon the subject of profound writers, who are grown very numerous of late; and I know very well, the judicious world is resolved to list me in that number. I conceive therefore, as to the business of being profound, that it is with writers, as with wells; a person with good eyes may see to the bottom of the deepest, provided any water be there; and that often, when there is nothing in the world at the bottom, besides dryness and dirt, though it be but a yard and a half underground, it shall pass, however, for wondrous deep, upon no wiser a reason than because it is wondrous dark.
— Jonathan Swift, an Irishman
Fight me, I’m Irish!
Happy St Patrick’s Day to all those Americans out there still bafflingly determined to claim Irish ethnicity. Why not make your day extra-authentic, by making fun shapes with semtex, arbitrarily hating people with marginally different religious beliefs, and banning abortion? All while listening to the soulful sounds of Westlife.
— Paul O’Brien, a Scot
Keep me out of the sun, I’m Irish!
Now anyone who’s felt the touch of heaven in their lives
Will know the way I’m feeling looking in my baby’s eyes
That’s why I can’t bear to be too far away
I know that God must love me cause he sent you to me on Angel’s Wings
— Westlife, an Irish boy band
I’m going to go drive the snakes from my pants!
The prime number shitting bear has re-entered my life in a big way. I have decided I am going to try to beat the top score. The top score is determined by the highest prime number that one can prove one has seen. This in turn is largely determined by the length of time one’s browser has been running without crashing or reloading. As of this moment, the bear has been on my screen (sometimes in a minimized window, in the interest of full disclosure) shitting prime numbers for approximately forty-two hours and twenty minutes. Despite having run it this long, I am still far from the prize. The current top record is 167,901,421. That’s a pretty big number, and you know what?
It is only divisible by one and itself.
What a fat, lonely number.
I am just going to let the sucker run until my computer crashes, and to be honest I’m surprised it hasn’t crashed already, given my tendency to squeeze more and more data onto my hard drive until finally one can hear it squealing like a pig. But I am going to let it run, and damn the consequences. And if I don’t win, well, at least I will have had a good run, and also I won’t have actually wasted my time doing anything.
I am a fat, lonely person. And I love myself!
Holy shit! It’s the ides of March! I wasn’t paying attention! Suddenly, it’s the ides of March! What the hell am I going to do now?
I’ve got to go to the grocery store, get some canned goods! I’ve got to go to the hardware store and buy some crossbow bolts! And a crossbow! Fuck fuck fuck! I need to withdraw all my money from my bank account and bury it in a metal box in the backyard! Shit! I don’t have a metal box OR a backyard!
It’s too late anyway. I can’t go out now! The roads are clogged with traffic! And through my window I can hear the blood-curdled screams of a thousand people! I should not have waited so long! It’s too late now… it’s over… it’s over…
Damn you, ides of March!
