If you're like me, and I know I am...

Friday, May 28, 2004

It's time to get non-linear

There are two kinds of people in the world... Actually, there are undoubtedly more than two kinds of people in the world, but for the sake of conveniently discussing dichotomies, the dual nature of man and most pitched arguments, just about everything seems to be divided into two sides and if you aren’t blindly entrenched in one of those two sides spewing the dogma and party line, then both sides view you as trying to placate both sides.
So as I was saying, there are two kinds of people in the world, the kind of people who see things in linear terms and the kind of people who possess three dimensional thought. I, of course, am a three-dimensional, non-linear thinker, but then nobody describes themselves as a two-dimensional, linear thinker because those are often just a polite way of calling someone stupid. Since, clearly, there is no one here who is either “stupid,” “linear” or two-dimensional, we can feel free to discuss.
Linear thinkers tend to use more flattering terms to describe themselves such as “straight thinker,” “straight talker,” “straight shooter “straight forward” or “endowed with tremendous common sense.” To them, the world is not often a confusing place unless they meet someone who takes more than a split-second to make up their mind, encounter someone who changes their mind when new facts become available, talks to someone capable of considering more than two variables at any moment or watches the news. And even that confusion can be easily dismissed as someone trying to fool them by using some sort of double talk or witchcraft.
I imagine the way a linear thinker feels is much the same way Neanderthals felt when they came toe to toe with homo sapiens for the first time. Suddenly, thousands of years at the top of the evolutionary ladder came crashing down around them as these other men showed up and beat them to the prize.
As modern homo sapiens, we tend to take the name “Neanderthal” in vain. A couple of theories exist about what happened to Neanderthals. One suggests they died out because we took all their land and food when we outbred them. That sounds like us; we do like nookie and stealing. Another theory suggests they didn’t disappear so much as were consumed by us as we combined two species into one. Like horses and donkeys having mules. Some mules are a little more horse, some more donkey.
I like that theory because it explains so much about the human race and why there seem to be two basic kinds of people.
Each one of us is part modern man and part old-fashioned cavedwelling trog. One side of the family favors abstract thought, the other likes flinging poo at people we don’t like. One side likes designing advanced weapons to ensure the survival of the race, the other side just likes to kill anything that moves for fun. One side like painting their adventures on cave walls, the other side likes sitting around the fire telling stories.
And just like anybody drawing from two very different families, these traits get comingled and mixed up and used in different proportions. And so it goes with the whole race of man. Some of us are clearly not capable of non-linear thought, but rather than accept that that is a limitation, we try to play it off as a positive.
The best way to do that is never admit you might not be the sharpest tool in the shed. Never admit you are or were wrong. Fail to understand the complexities of any situation but see that as the other guy’s failure to render the situation in “clear terms” and accuse him of fence-straddling or sbfuscation. Talk about law and order, right and wrong, good and evil, black and white, this and that, good guys vs. bad guys, us and them. And never, under any circumstances see the millions of shades of gray that make up the world.
And since no one ever things of themselves as “a bad guy,” you must always think of yourself and anyone on your team as “a good guy” even if all of the evidence points in the opposite direction.
The world is a complicated place, but don’t let that goad you into complex thought or worse, complex explanations. Stick to the idea that if the world is indeed complicated, all it takes to uncomplicate it is some straight forward action – usually violence. Because when thinking fails, bombs work. At least bombs blow up and that is a kind of “working” even if it doesn’t put food in anyone’s mouth or forgiveness in anyone’s heart.
Of course, as straightforward as I might try to be, someone will probably see all of this as an exercise is convolution or crazy talk if they haven’t already been distracted by a shiny object or a reality show. So I will sum up with these words by British pop star Seal who said it best when he sang: How are we ever gonna survive unless we get a little crazy?

Thursday, May 27, 2004

"Top Gun" and "The Gay Way"

Quentin Tarantino spiel from the film "Sleep With Me"
by Roger Avary

What's a film about, what's it really about? What genre does it take?

[Duane: What, like the spine? Like one sentence?]

No, I don't, fucking boy meets girl, I don't give a shit about that. Fuck boy meets girl, fuck motorcycle movie. No, what is really being said? What's really being said, that's what you're talking about. 'Cause the whole idea, man, is subversion. You want subversion on a massive level. You know what one of the greatest fucking scripts ever written in the history of Hollywood is? Top Gun.

[Duane: Oh, come on.]

Top Gun is fucking great. What is Top Gun? You think it's a story about a bunch of fighter pilots.

[Duane: It's about a bunch of guys waving their dicks around.]

It is a story about a man's struggle with his own homosexuality. It is! That is what Top Gun is about, man.
You've got Maverick, all right? He's on the edge, man. He's right on the fucking line, all right? And you've got Iceman, and all his crew. They're gay, they represent the gay man, all right? And they're saying, go, go the gay way, go the gay way. He could go both ways.

[Duane: What about Kelly McGillis?]

Kelly McGillis, she's heterosexuality. She's saying: no, no, no, no, no, no, go the normal way, play by the rules, go the normal way. They're saying no, go the gay way, be the gay way, go for the gay way, all right? That is what's going on throughout that whole movie...

He goes to her house, all right? It looks like they're going to have sex, you know, they're just kind of sitting back, he's takin' a shower and everything. They don't have sex. He gets on the motorcycle, drives away. She's like, "What the fuck, what the fuck is going on here?" Next scene, next scene you see her, she's in the elevator, she is dressed like a guy. She's got the cap on, she's got the aviator glasses, she's wearing the same jacket that the Iceman wears. She is, okay, this is how I gotta get this guy, this guy's going towards the gay way, I gotta bring him back, I gotta bring him back from the gay way, so I'm do that through subterfuge, I'm gonna dress like a man. All right? That is how she approaches it.

Okay, now let me just ask you -- I'm gonna digress for two seconds here. I met this girl Amy here, she's like floating around here and everything. Now, she just got divorced, right?...

All right, but the REAL ending of the movie is when they fight the MIGs at the end, all right? Because he has passed over into the gay way. They are this gay fighting fucking force, all right? And they're beating the Russians, the gays are beating the Russians. And it's over, and they fucking land, and Iceman's been trying to get Maverick the entire time, and finally, he's got him, all right? And what is the last fucking line that they have together? They're all hugging and kissing and happy with each other, and Ice comes up to Maverick, and he says, "Man, you can ride my tail, anytime!" And what does Maverick say? "You can ride mine!" Swordfight! Swordfight! Fuckin' A, man!
According to a June 1995 Details profile on Val Kilmer:

"He got all buffed out for the role of Iceman, Tom Cruise's adversary, and while he didn't like the script ("I turned it down at first, but Paramount had an option they exercised, so I had to do it"), Top Gun remains a key film of the '80s--the most representative of not only what was wrong with movies but what was wrong with this country's values. It's also the most unintentionally gay movie ever made by a big studio, so homoerotic it's like some kind of camp joke. It's impossible to watch it without thinking of Quentin Tarantino's hilarious monologue about the movie's gay subtext in the we're-hip-screenwriters-in-Hollywood flick "Sleep With Me," which Kilmer hasn't seen. All he'll say about the above, while smiling, is "Oh yeah?" "

Babylon 5 actor dies

Richard Biggs, 44, who played Dr. Stephen Franklin on the 1994-98 sydicated science fiction series "Babylon 5" died Saturday at his California home of either a stroke or an aneursim, according to his Web site.
"Babylon 5" series creator J. Michael Straczynski said that whatever happened, it happened quickly.
"What seems to have happened, happened quickly," Straczynski wrote. "He woke up, got up out of bed and went down."

Welcome Storytellers and Shriners!

I'm hoping some folks from Storytellers at Barley's will join in on this site and start posting like mad. You need an invite to post, so put your e-mail address here as a comment or e-mail me or call me and I will shoot you an invite. I want to create a little online community for the Running Thoughts/Storytellers crowd.

Wake up and smell the hayseeds

This is an old column from my college days if you are interested in seeing the evolution of an author. I think it was around the time of Matthew Shepard's murder.

Greg Jerrett (Daily Columnist)
October 16, 1998

Well, it has been one HELL of a week. And what have we learned? Not much. People keep on killing each other, and crackers keep on making jokes about it.

I can't even tell you how many of these "gems" came to my attention by way of the Quick Es.

Here's a little something for all you gay-bashing shit-stompers out there in "we hate fags, too, Reverend Phelps" land.

While watching a recent episode of "Loveline," Dr. Drew (who is a real practicing doctor and not just some quack, you know) had cause to call attention to a recent study about male sexual behavior.

Two groups of straight men were gathered. Half of the group claimed to have little to no problem with homosexuality, while the second half of the sample were self-proclaimed bigots.

Both groups were hooked up to sophisticated, electronic, medical, monitoring devices or "cockrings" which would record any activity in the nether regions.

Before you start sending in your letters and Quick Es about how wrong it is to hate the Dutch, I am talking about their penises.

Both groups were then given a saucy selection of salacious homoerotica to watch, like "Hard into Gary" or "Donnie Does Dennis" or "COPS" -- you know the kind of stuff I'm on about.

Wouldn't you know that the group that squawked the loudest about how much they hated homosexuals had the highest rate of responses.

The ones who hated gays the most got the most excited about seeing two men go at it fast and furious.

You always knew it was true though, didn't you?

I mean, all those years I was growing up listening to the macho wankers make fun of the wussy boys by calling them "homos," "queers" and "fags," I just knew that their real motivation was sexual frustration!

Guys don't really make fun of gays because they hate them so much as they hate the fact that they are secretly excited by them.

Here is how it goes. Young Slab "Not at all Gay" Hardnoggin sees a slightly-built lad with a nice ass and, before he has a chance to repress his feelings, they get the best of him.

He has to act out before he has the chance to feel ashamed.

He gets some of his cavebuddies to kick the crud out of the boy so he can get rid of that loving feeling and replace it with some good, old-fashioned hate.

A kid I knew in high school used to get boners in the shower all the time -- let's call him Rod.

I don't know why Rod was often stimulated, and I don't really care. I didn't make a big deal out of it. I was sprouting wood on the bus with breathtaking regularity, so what did that make me? Wood has a life of its own; who was I to judge?

It was kind of funny, but I wasn't sent into some kind of homicidal rage over it like a couple of the super-dominant, thick-browridge types who had to make a big show of how pissed they were that this little "fairy" was naked in the same room with us.

Well, they cornered young Rod, beat the hell out of him and then stood around high-fiving each other like a bunch of troglodytes, joyful in the knowledge that they had managed to repress their natural instincts for one more day.

What a joke. One of these guys -- let's call him Jeff (because that was his real name and I don't care who knows it) -- used to love to rack anybody he could get his sweaty little hands on.

Walking through those halls could be a nightmare of testicular agony for those of us who were comfortable enough with our masculinity to not try and touch the nads of the other boys.

This is classic projection, really. Confused by his desires to mount the other boys, in spite of what he was sure of as his "diehard heterosexuality," Jeff entered a deep state of denial and projected his self-loathing onto others by beating them senseless while his slope-headed friends were amazed at his show of masculine prowess.

Have you ever noticed that it is always the fiercest homophobes who do the really killer imitations of gays?

They love to prance it up and do the whole limp-wristed tinkerbell thing while they mince around the room getting to act out in a fashion which would never be acceptable to them if it weren't drenched in hatred.

So for those of you who intend to spend the next week or so reacting to the death of Matthew Shepard by passing along shit-stupid jokes you got off of the Internet and making up crass comments of your own about gays, just remember that the straight guys who have no problems with homosexuals are the ones who really have nothing to worry about.

So now that you've had a chance to think about it, heard any good jokes lately?

Wednesday, May 26, 2004

Do your thing!

Not to pressure you, but I'd really like to see some stories come out of you folks. If you could possible spare the time to sit down or as they say where I come from "set down" and write, why that would be great.

Intro to Bobo-1

Here's a story from my college years.

The summer after Kirk left, Pete and I knew we needed to find either a place to ourselves or roommates.

Pete worked with a guy named Joe Burroughs at Hy-Vee in Council Bluffs whose brother Tom went to ISU and was looking for a couple of people to move in with him and his buddy Pete Schnoebelen.

This was a year full of mystery and suspense. Pot and pussy. TV and temper tantrums. Love, hate, laughter and bitter recriminations.

First off, I was finally 21 and ready to do some damage.

Secondly, Tom was a fucking slob from hell. He was 6'4", 400 pounds of worthless fucking, do nothing lazy-assed CB-style grease stain who, after acing every year of high school getting 4.0ed and honor rolled, suddenly lost all initiative to do anything but watch TV and sleep because his mommy and daddy weren't there to kick his ass out of bed every morning. We didn't even have cable, so what he watched until 2 a.m. is a mystery to me.

He was a no class goin' vet-med wannabe, stripper lovin',"Quincy" watching, 12 hours on his ass, sleep til three, fartin' in his sleep, guinea pig killin', teflon pan burning, wart soakin', no dish washing, purple lounge chair destroyin' so and so! Oh and his nickname was Bobo.

The Cost of War

Pleas for compassion not your thing? Only intersted in the hard, cold facts of cash and cost/benefit analysis? Want to see what this war in Iraq is costing us in economic terms?


Tuesday, May 25, 2004

Ode to Chuck

I can't wait for Charleton Heston to die. I think it's just time. He's like an incontinent old sheepdog whose lost his chew toy. He keeps wandering around the living room piddling on all the furniture. It's time he be put out of his misery.

The world has just gotten too weird for him. His values, far from defending American liberty and values, have become the very things that twist and pervert this nation into a wicked caricature of its former self.

I respect what he was. In many ways he made me the man I am today. "Soylent Green," "The Planet of the Apes" and "Omega Man" were all great influences on me in the early 70s. Ironic that such a right-wing whackjob could make anyone lean left.

WWII is gone daddy gone

World War II was the perfect war for the United States. We didn't start it. We didn't join it for the wrong reasons. We were on the right side. We were attacked. We defened ourselves. We fought hard enough to be sure that we were tested to the fullest of our abilities, as were our enemies, and we prevailed.

We prevailed not only because we were stronger, smarter and damn lucky, but because our way of life was superior. The American fighting man of World War II wasn't the most disciplined soldier on the battlefield nor did he have the most training or experience with war. He knew he was right. He knew what was at stake.
We won because our mettle was tested and found not wanting of anything plus our men had lived through the deprivations of the Great Depression. We were the good guys. Our victory was clean and pure, hard-earned and mostly guilt free.

If there was ever a war like World War II in all of history, I haven't heard about it and if another opportunity like it comes along, I hope the cockroaches enjoy it as much as we did.

Congestive Heart Failure Rap

every 10 minutes, I got-ta pee
the lasix is working inside o' me

my bladder be fillin' from the water in my organ meat
I'm getting all my nasty fluids on the toilet seat

yeah, yeah, check it uh, uh
I got the CHG
takin' diuretics and p'tassium regu-ly

yeah, I got the CHG
be lucky if I live past a quarter to three

Oh-oh! I need to score

Love is a drug like heroin. The first time you try it, it feels so good you can't believe everyone isn't doing it. It rages through your system so hard that you're never the same again. If you try to quit, you just lie in bed feeling like hell and s h i t yourself until its out of your system. Then the next chance you get, you so it all over again.


Greg's first fill ad

... what a piece of shit! Posted by Hello

Monday, May 24, 2004

numero uno

this is an experiment in blogging. in case any of you don't know what that is (steve thomas, I'm looking at you) BLOG is short for Web Log and it is one of those places where free speech roames free like the crabs in kevin rasmussen's underwear. as members, you are entitled to not only comment here, but to post here for everyone in the world to see. I have been active on another blog for some time and didn't even know this kind of service was available, but then hey, memory is cheap they tell me and if they can stick an ad on your page, why not.

so come and join in the fun and invite your buddies to do the same. BOING!