Thursday, June 30, 2005

Tick... Tick... Boom Town

For those of you keeping track, have a look at the Census Bureau's new numbers on the fastest growing cities in the United States in 2004. Key to notice for the purposes of this correspondent: number three on the list (with 9.8% growth) was North Las Vegas, NV, followed by Henderson, NV in the number six spot. When your metro area has two of the top ten fastest growing zones in the country, you know it's on like donkey kong.

And while we're at it, a large, thick, HEAVY envelope arrived in today's post for Mme. Flamingo from our pals over at CCSD. If I was going to guess, I'd say it was probably her contract, but since I scrupulously abide by the law, I haven't opened it to find out. After all, opening somebody else's mail isn't just some bogus local, state-jurisdiction misdemeanor. No, my friend. That's a federal crime, and where there's federal crime, pound-me-in-the-ass prison time's not far behind. I'm reminded of the words of a namelss sage from my early days as a seventh grader at Roseville Area Middle School: "if you ever go to prison, don't drop the soap." Well said, whoever you are. Well said.

Now I'm an Amputee, Goddamn You

Ten pop culture bonus points to the first person to name the artist, song title, album title, and date of release (within five years, of course) of the work referenced in the title of this post. Obscure? Maybe. But you can do it; I believe in you. It's like a listening quiz without the listening... and without the bizarre tendon stretching/carpet gazing of the St. Olaf College musicology faculty. This one's just plain me, rocking you like a mountain.

And while we're talking about music, let's have a moment to discuss something that came up on my morning weight-lift/run today. In Dr. Dre's "What's the Difference" on 2001 -- which if you don't own, you should, because it's amazing -- Xzibit advises us of the following: "until my death, I'm Bangladesh." What do you suppose this means? Has Xzibit followed in the footsteps of many of our East Coast friends and taken alternate names, not unlike Wu-Tang's Old Dirty Bastard (may he rest in peace) taking Osiris and Dirt McGirt? Is he advising us of his ancestry? I'll go out on a limb and say that X-to-the-Z doesn't look Bangladeshi, but then I'm not sure I know what Bangladeshis might look like.

I'm intimately familiar with the futility of trying to piece together meaning from hip-hop lyrics; anything that seems eccentric or arcane is usually just in there because it rhymes. Take, for example, one of my favorite tracks from Outkast's Stankonia, "We Luv Deez Hoez." Backbone, one of the featured artists, manages to create a causal link between apparel and the drinking of alcohol with this toss-off: "Sweatsuit velour/so I ordered Kahlua." For people like me who love words and really love word silliness, it doesn't get any better than that. So just think about it.

Also, think about how perfect the weather is this morning and for God's sake, get outside to enjoy it. And if you can't do that, open your damned window. Minnesota only gets a handful of days like this in a year, and the way things are going, I'm sure it will shortly be monsooning here again. Do it... do it.

EDIT: Never mind. This weather sucks. More wind than a flatulent old man, the sun wiped out, and teensie-weensie drops of rain falling. At least I was right about the impending monsoon... I just thought we'd get a respite that lasted less than four hours.

Tuesday, June 28, 2005

Send the Bastards Home

I apologize for not being able to match this quote with a name, but you'll just have to trust me that one of our illustrious state-level politicians said this earlier today: "Most Minnesotans won't even notice when the government shuts down. It'll be Friday, July 1st, and most people will be on their way to the cabin." He then hastily added, "Not that we won't still work to get this done."

Come on, guys. This is ridiculous. Can we recall the entire Minnesota state legislature? Can we try? How a politician could justify not doing his job by pointing out that nobody will notice the consequences of his inaction? Whether he's actually right or not really doesn't matter at all. What matters is the gross negligence of this legislative session.

I'll be honest: it's this sort of thing that makes me glad I'm moving to another state. I don't know if Nevada's state government is in better shape or not, but since the one in Minnesota is entirely non-functioning at this point, then I daresay it couldn't be a whole lot worse.

Monday, June 27, 2005

Transparency and the Prince

Governmental transparency is the bugaboo of every conspiracy nut in the world. As citizens of a republic, we want as much transparency as we can get: we want it in the tax code, we want it in the legislative process, and we want it so badly from our president that we unsuccessfully try to introduce legislation to rebuild the White House entirely out of glass. At the same time, it is the very nature of government to hide its actions, to tax and spend secretively, legislate obscurely, and work behind a fine large wall of security. The maioc of Western Democracy is that we've managed to find a way to balance the government's need for secrecy and the people's need for transparency in a way that everyone can live with.

Personally, I think that this Administration is ridiculously obscure and outrageously oblique. They have managed -- somehow -- to draw the curtain in front of any number of ugly little blemishes and have the people believe that they're being transparent. It is remarkable what can be gotten away with by using the excuse "we're fighting a global war on terrorism." Perhaps the next time I'm pulled over for speeding, and the cop asks me if I know why I was pulled over, I'll bust that one out. "Sir, I'm sorry... I know I was speeding, but you might be unaware that I am personally waging a global war on terrorism. Maybe I was speeding, maybe I wasn't. Either way, you've got to admit that the world is a better place because Saddam Hussein is out of power." This strategy, apparently, should work.

Only two paragraphs in, and already I'm straying from the point. Let's turn this ocean-liner back to the issue of Iraq for a second, and to the observation made by G-Money about the disparate remarks made by Cheney and Rumsfeld about the current state of the insurgency. One says that it's in its last throes. The other says it will last ten to fifteen years. What are these people doing? Transparent or not, this Administration has succeeded in doing a fine job of elevating the practice of ass-covering to a highly-refined art.

Look, here's what the citizenry of our nation and the world need from the Smug Ones at the White House. They need to make G-Money's well-worded, succinct apology and admission, and then they need to give the military whatever it needs to kick ass, take names, and come home. People much better informed than myself have recently observed that we need more manpower in-country, and I can't help but think that's true. Why should somebody like my oldest friend 1Lt. Schaffer have to lead a platoon into a burning building, vastly outnumbered, by insurgents, and single-handedly take the place over? Why, when he calls for backup, should it arrive four hours later in the form of National Guardsmen from South Dakota? That's another matter entirely, but it's a tragedy that nobody wants to take responsibility for.

Thursday, June 23, 2005

Fear & Loathing in Northfield

It's Minnesota private College week, and, because I'm at St. Olaf to teach my blazingly successful Become a Lyrical Terrorist in Four Easy Steps lesson to the UB arts class this afternoon, I'm here to experience it. It's funny to think about things still happening here, especially since I haven't been on campus for a year or so. The Cage has been completely redesigned and now looks a lot like the Old Cage at the Old Student Center, featuring long, low counters and a far more linear design. You still can't sit at the long, low counter, but it's a nice nod to nostalgia.

And I can't help but remember -- dear God, it was seven years ago -- when I came down here for Minnesota Private College Week and took the tour with my parents. That was Back in The Day, and it's... I don't know... difficult to imagine that there was a time when I still had a choice about whether or not I would be an Ole. Now I am and there's nothing to be done. I'm also currently a Tommie, and will shortly be a Rebel, but neither of those seem to carry the same weight as being an Ole. Edwards, that stooge of a president, said this during his speech to the class of 2003 right before we said goodbye to our parents on that first day: "Whatever else happens to you, whatever you were before, you're all Oles now." I don't think Edwards said many things that were true, but that is definitely one of them.

It's an introspective morning; last weekend, Eric Drotning was killed in a car accident, and even though I can't really claim to have known him at all, there's something about somebody you knew being killed that is sort of obscurely upsetting. G-Money has a good deal more to say about that, and it's more insightful than I could possibly manage while sitting at a Mac in the Fireside Lounge. Let me also parenthetically say that I would be happy to enter into any conversation G-Money chooses about religion (Wallis is an interesting figure in many ways).

Never mind all that now. Above my head and behind me, some fool of a singer named Billy Dean is singing a ridiculous song about life being funny on Montel Williams, and I'm not in much of a mood for that. But if any of you are looking for something voyeuristically rewarding, hop in the car of your choice and come down to Northfield. Between MPCW and all the camps that are happening, it's a people-watcher's ball. This is not to be confused with a Player's Ball, much less to be confused with a Ball Sack, but it's a good time nonetheless.

Tuesday, June 21, 2005

Milio's is Sick and Depraved

Let's get one thing straight: restaurants -- even fast food joints -- need to focus on providing something we can't all do at home. I mean, let's say that what I really need is fish and chips. Let's just say that's what I need right now. I can fire up the oven (we don't have a deep-fryer, thank God), and bake up some Gordon's fish sticks and Ore-Ida fries. This will be a sad and pathetic attempt at the Great National Dish of the United Kingdom, so instead I of trying to accomplish this meal on my own, I will head over to Brit's Pub and let the English do it for me while I sip on a pint of Strongbow.

Or, let's say that it is absolutely essential that I have a gyro. I can't even begin to make something like that at home (since my first name isn't Basil and my last name is LaFaveadopulous), so instead of trying, I'll jump in the car and blaze across the city at Top Speed until I find myself at the door of Dino's Gyros up in Falcon Heights.

Now, let's say I want a sandwich, and let's say also that for some reason I don't want to make it myself. Let's say I want something special out of my sandwich experience, something like... I don't know... a Sweet Onion Chicken Teriyaki sandwich or a Meatball Hoagie. These are things that, while I could probably pretty easy accomplish them in my own kitchen, it's better to get from somewhere else. So when I go to a sandwich shop, I expect them to be doing things that are in some way extraordinary.

This is where Milio's Sandwiches fails MISERABLY.

They make the following sandwiches: a ham sandwich, a turkey sandwich, a roast beef sandwich, a tuna sandwich, a veggie sandwich and an outrageous conflagration of meats that amount to an Italian cold-cut sandwich. Then, they add lettuce and slices of tomato. Sometimes, they include cheese or sprouts. For an extra kick, they break out the Hellman's mayonnaise. All of this sandwich magic is contained inside the bread of your choice: a white sub roll, a wheat sub roll, or regular-ass wheat bread.

All of these sandwiches could be easily made by you (or by me) at home, using ingredients that are readily available at any grocery store. I hate things like this. How lazy do you have to be to not make your own regular sandwich? That this place is a damn chain shows us just how lazy we are. God bless America, where you can either make your own sandiwch or pay somebody five bucks to make it exactly the same way you would.

Friday, June 17, 2005

History is a Circle

Things are going poorly in Iraq; there's no way to deny that (unless you happen to be our Vice President, but that's another matter), and, unless you're completely devoid of critical thinking skills, there's also no way to deny that history inevitably repeats itself. But, just in case you were looking for proof that history will do that, read this:

"[We] have been led in Mesopotamia into a trap from which it will be hard to escape with dignity and honour. [We] have been tricked into it by a steady withholding of information. The Baghdad communiqués are belated, insincere, incomplete. Things have been far worse than we have been told, our administration more bloody and inefficient than the public knows... Our unfortunate troops,... under hard conditions of climate and supply, are policing an immense area, paying dearly every day in lives for the willfully wrong policy of the civil administration in Baghdad."

- T.E. Lawrence, Sunday Times of London, August 22, 1920


Isn't it great that we were all able to learn from the mistakes of the last global land empire? Wait... you mean we weren't able to learn anything there? Bummer. I guess there's nothing else to do now but try and contract glaucoma so I can hook up a prescription for medical marijuana. Clearly, there are no other options.

Stage Two: Complete

Shazam! We are now only one stage away from being completely set for the relocation to the Mojave. Last night, Mme. Flamingo was interviewed, offered a job, and accepted it all via phone in the space of forty-five minutes. A different place for education careers indeed. She will be working at J. Harold Brinley Middle School (yes, that is a recording of a bear growling) in northwest Las Vegas as an eighth grade English teacher. Hat tips all around. The only thing that remains is for your humble correspondent to be rubber-stamped into the M.Ed program at UNLV... and then we'll be go for launch. Advantage: young people.

Friday, June 10, 2005

Kiss My Grits

I was thinking about the last two years on the way here this morning, and I caught myself actually thinking about how this gig hasn't been so bad. Sure, the teachers here are unprincipled hypocrites, but so what? It hasn't been that bad, I thought. Then I remembered how strangely the whole jump-drive business was handled -- what with the obvious lying and the cruel double-standard -- and how I haven't felt this alienated from the people around me since I was getting spit on back at Roseville Area Middle School. And also how much I hate little kids... mostly because they smell like poop. But never mind that now.

There's a little less than an hour left in my time at this job, and I'm trying to kill that time as effectively as I can. Inventories complete, summer prep done... everything official has been taken care of (and the Washington Post has been thoroughly read), so I'm left to kill time in the traditional way: with a sharpened toothebrush-end and a surly prowl through the exercise yard. There are five whitey haystack crackers who owe me a carton of cigarettes each; if they don't pay up, I'm going to be forced to cut them and wash my feet with their blood.

And if you see Raphael, you tell that gabacho bastard that I'm coming for him. He's going to kiss the rings or he's going to be my bitch. And you know how I like to make my bitches dress all scanty and wear make-up. Raphael will be no different.

Thursday, June 09, 2005

The Death of Mysticism

As the countdown continues (now down to fourteen hours and some change), I find myself less and less inclined to do work, and more and more inclined to write. Plus, since my wrist is back in working order, it doesn't hurt me to type... and so I have no excuse. I've been meaning to write a post about religion for some time now, and the topic of G-Money's musings have created a convenient window. (Side note: what would I do without the musings of G-Money? How many of these posts owe their genesis to his ideas? Screw the hat-tip; I tip my whole head.)

One of G-Money's associates -- a seminarian, I believe -- asked him to comment on why people don't attend church as often as, I don't know, they should or used to or some other subjective measure of attendance. The Chairman makes a number of interesting points which you can catch up on by following the link above, and I'd like to add to that by articulating an opinion that I've been nursing for several years.

Christianity in America is dying because it demands too little of its followers.

Christianity by its very nature is a passive religion, and the Protestant denominations (or, really, sects, but let's not get into that right now) are particularly passive. Here's why: you make one act of contrition -- whether, as a Catholic, you confess or, as a Protestant, you simply desire forgiveness -- and forgiveness is yours. Perhaps you are baptized; if so, that's another choice. But after you, as a Christian, have made these two choices, you are completely free of responsibility and can go about your business. As a believer, all that is required of you is to be a decent person (see G-Money's remarks about Western society being based on people being good), and, perhaps, that you come to church. Christianity -- particularly at this moment -- asks absolutely nothing of its followers that they shouldn't be doing anyway.

This makes Christianity attractive to some, and the promise of "salvation" is no doubt an alluring one, but since the process of becoming a Christian is so easy -- almost as easy as saying a magic word -- it is impossible to derive a deeper, more spiritual satisfaction with the faith. This is convenient for hundreds of thousands of suburban Americans who just want a social club that doesn't necessarily involve golf, but numbers don't lie: Christianity, which demands nothing, is losing vast numbers of faithful every year while Islam, which demands everything, has been steadily growing in the US since the Seventies.

The difference is mysticism. The same impulse in Christianity that gave rise to the much needed changes of the Reformation has now succeeded in completely stripping American Christianity of any sense of mystery, of wonder, and of the sacred. People crave mystery in their lives; they want their religion to have secrets that are not accessible to all. Could the success of so poorly-written a book as The Da Vinci Code be attributed to anything else? Americans want their Christianity to be obscure, to make them believe that not all is know-able. Kevin Smith's Buddy Jesus (although clearly satirical and deeply hilarious) typifies what has happened to Christianity in America; when Jesus is your friend, his Church loses the ability to act authoritatively.

I'm not saying that Vatican II needs to be revoked and Mel Gibson needs to be made Pope. I'm not saying that Protestantism needs to be less fuzzy and more stern. The Evangelicals to whom G-Money refers are plenty stern, and if it's a Latin mass you crave, look no further than St. Agnes in Minneapolis.

Think about this, though: if you are Jewish and you want to achieve a deeper understanding of your faith, you can study the caballah; through a sort of mystic numerology, the Torah will then reveal to you various secrets and truths. If you are Muslim and you want to achieve a deeper understanding of your faith, you can study Sufism; through movement and intense ritual purification, you will gain the knowledge of secret and extremely esoteric wisdom. If you are an American Christian and you want to achieve a deeper understanding of your faith, you can... do what? Go on a retreat? Become Catholic and make a pilgrimage (to someplace outside of the US)? Take your watch off and go back to being a teenager so you can "go through" something like TEC? All of those things try for mysticism and miss entirely.

As long as Christianity in the US continues to "reach out" and be more accessible, it will continue to shrink. People need something that goes beyond the slavish underpinnings of the faith that can speak to them in an eternal, ethereal, and mysterious way, because the teachings of the Bible are out of touch with a modern society. Mysticism allows the common man to behold the infinite, while current American Christianity allows the common man to behold the church.

Tuesday, June 07, 2005

This is Thunder in the Valley

With a big hat tip to The Kat, I'd like to direct anybody who's interested over to a gallery of pictures taken while The Kat, G-Money, myself and several others were laying tracks down for the upcoming Thunder in the Valley album. Belive me, there is nothing cooler to look at in the world than Studio Pictures.

Monday, June 06, 2005

Countdown to Ecstasy

In addition to being an excellent album put out by The Dan in 1974, countdown to ecstasy is what I am currently experiencing. As of 8:15 this morning, I only have 37.5 billable hours left here in this job, and then I am free. But free to be what? You and me? I don't think so. Free to kick it old school and keep it real at all times? Foshay. Would you expect anything less?

But listen: before it gets to be too far in the past, I want to briefly comment on one of The Wolf Man's observations from his contribution to the AEM discussion. Money quote:

"We also have nothing to hold us together. In the late 90s I thought that one of the reasons our generation didn't seem to have an identity was because we had not had a war to tie us together. Our grandparents grew up through WW2, a lot of our parents grew up during the Vietnam war."



I can recall expressing this same sentiment to my parents over dinner back in the heady days of 1999. I thought that the problem -- even then -- with my generation was that there was no single event or sequence of events that had served to unite us and create a sort of cohesional zeitgeist. As The Wolf Man goes on to point out, we did have 9/11, but that didn't work for some reason. And why not? We were there for a second... people who knew me then might remember me looking seriously at both Army and Navy OCS as a post-graduate option, and I wasn't the only one. We wore our red white and blue, we talked loftily. There was concern, outcry, and it looked like we, as a generation might have "found our mission and our moment" (hat tip: White House speech-writing team). But then nothing happened. The cohesion that our generation and indeed our nation enjoyed for a month or so after 9/11 quickly broke down. Where did it go? I don't know, but I certainly mourn its loss.

Why didn't 9/11 work like Vietnam worked? It's not like our diversity of opinion on what happened and why is any different from the climate that prevailed in the late Sixties and early Seventies; after all, I come from a family where my father attended the Air Force Academy while his brother planned a draft-dodging route into Canada. Is it that there's no real Movement to get behind this time? Is it that we are too apathetic and too lulled into obedience by our sense of Entitlement to care what's happening? Is it that most of us are uncomfortable with the kind of radicalism on both the left and the right that has been allowed to frame the conversation about this war?

As usual, I'm not really sure. Did I oppose the war? Yes, I did, but not for the reasons that the Yahoo Lefties did (although I am, of course, a Leftie). Do I understand that, now that we're there, we can't just get the hell out? Yes, I do, but not for the reasons the Yahoo Righties have given us. Does this make me representative of a larger political reality in this country right now among people who are my own age? I think it does, but I'm not sure what that reality really is.

If everyone is living in their parents' basements, then how can they be expected to embrace their own identities -- political or otherwise -- on a larger scale? They can be expected to do this, but I don't think they will. Here's a piece of political truth: that G-Money, who is a self-described Conservative, and myself, who is a self-described Progressive have so much in common politically shows what the future of American politics will be. It will go something like this: one of the two major parties will either become truly fiscally conservative and truly socially liberal or a third party will arise. Whichever way that goes, those of us who have come of age in this outrageously partisan climate will provide the base needed to assure this new political philosphy's dominance for at least fifty years following its ascendancy.

The question then becomes how long will we have to wait before one of the parties figures this out, or, if you happen to be a bit more radical, how long will we have to wait for a charismatic, independent figure to appear to lead a third party into the White House.

Thursday, June 02, 2005

The Myth of the Respect Retreat

As long as we're discussing education here, I'd like to (briefly, I hope) bring up what I consider to be the most outrageous waste of time and resources ever to enter the schools: respect/kindness "retreats." Admittedly, this will be more of a rant than a considered argument, but I think it's interesting to note that everyone under, say, twenty-eight knows what a load of bullshit these things are, while everyone over twenty-eight thinks they're great. There's one going on here right now whose mission is to help our second- and third-graders be more respectful.

When did it become the schools' responsibility to teach children to be nice to each other?

Here's how these things work. You take some time -- depending on how old the kids are, it can be anywhere from an hour to a whole day -- and you stick them in a room -- or rooms -- with a bunch of Crazed Weirdos from a group called Youth Frontiers. Then they sing songs, learn about how important respect is, and, if they're in grades six and above, they light a candle and make embarrassingly voyeuristic confessions. If this last part sounds familiar to you, it may be because you're familiar with brain-washing techniques used by mid-century Soviet intelligence operatives. Then, after some kind of affirmation, everyone is sent home or back to class or wherever, glowing with the love of respect and a newfound sense of awe for their fellow students. Isn't this awesome?

Yeah. Awesome like awesome in the phrase "you guys, Jesus is awesome." Because maybe fifteen hours go by and you're back in school... and then what? Well, then people are still getting their asses kicked, still being hated on, and still ripping each other to pieces, and all the while the over twenty-eight adults in the building are weeping softly, wondering why these kids can't have paid more attention at the retreat yesterday.

Come on. Give me a break. Kids are bastards to each other because that's what school does to people. Adults over twenty-eight, how would you like to be stuck in an overcrowded space with a bunch of people you hate and know that for the next seven years, you couldn't get out? You'd hate it, and you'd lash out at the people you hate that surround you. As usual, there's no workable solution here (except to make the schools less like prison-warehouses, but that's another post entirely), but the best we can do is to stop giving money to organizations like Youth Frontiers. These goons are carpetbagging schools all over America and laughing all the way to the bank. The question is, why doesn't everybody laugh back?