Just...Grrrrr...

Okay, now I'm pissed.

I know, I know, you're saying to yourself, "Gee, what's new about that?"
Yeah, well, there's been alot going on in the world lately to piss me off, and here is just one more item.

I just got a bloody card in the bloody mail from my bloody homeowner's association telling me I need to mow my bloody yard. IN BLOODY MARCH!!!!!!

That really chaps my hide. I take care of my yard. Just yesterday, I was out there pulling weeds, putting out weed and feed, and testing my sprinkler system--part of which is broken, by the way, which is just one more thing on the list. So why is some busy-body telling me I need to edge my damn lawn when everybody else in the frickin' neighborhood has had just as many weeds as me? In fact most have had more? GRRRRRRR...

But you see, it's not about the yard, really. That's not what's pissing me off. This is the reason that part of me dreaded moving into a house in the 'burbs in the first place: bloody homeowners' associations. It's just one more symptom of the fucked up society we're all living in now. Why is it that every Tom, Dick and Harry feels the need to shove his rules down everybody elses' throat?

Look, this is a free godsdamn country. Right? Right? Just today, I saw a picture of the New Hampshire license plate, which reads: "Live Free or Die." Live free or fucking DIE!! Does anybody actually believe that anymore? I mean that they are truly free? And I'm not talking about free to choose the lesser of two numbskulls in an election with only two options. I'm talking about the right to go through your daily life and do what you like to do, without harming anyone else, and without some self-righteous asshole getting in your face about it, metaphorically or otherwise.

I mean look at us. The HOA tells me I have to mow my lawn. The city of Austin tells me I can't smoke in a fucking bar (it's the principle of the thing). And now the TABC is basically saying you can't DRINK in fucking bar. A commedian can't go on televisions and say FUCK because some kid might be watching who shouldn't be watching anyway. And the cops are out in force on a Saturday making everybody paranoid. Why? To stop us looting and rioting in the streets? No. Just because we might be going a mile over the speed limit while were trying to keep up with the flow of traffic on I-fucking-35!

Face it folks, liberty in this country is a crock. And I'm a straight, white, middle-aged male with a decent income. I have it better than anybody. I can't imagine what it must be like to be seen as somehow out of the ordinary. I was graced to be born as "The Man," and even I think this whole place is messed up.

Damn.

Okay. I've just about vented all my frustrations. Sorry about the rant. Maybe it had something to do with just having seen V for Vendetta. That's an excellent movie, by the way. The Wachowski (sic) Brothers have done it again, IMHO. And even though you never see his face, Hugo Weaving gives a great performance. I even liked Natalie Portman, and she's always annoyed me.

So if you get the chance, definately go see it. But first, go mow your fucking lawn.
Grrr...

'Sup?

'Sup, y'all?

One of my humans is sleeping, and the other one is busy watching the noisy box, so I thought I'd hop up here on the nice comfy chair and say hi to all my adoring fans.

But ya know, I've been reading the big one's blog and, boy, is he getting a little intense. What's with all the religious and political stuff? Nobody cares about that stuff. Anybody with any brains knows there's two important things in this world: Tuna fish and chicken. And naps. And catnip. Okay, so there's four important things in this world.

I have to remind him of these things sometimes. Actually, I have to remind him of these things all the time. I mean, sometimes he'll just be lying there in bed, fast asleep, when he KNOWS it's time to get up and open a can of tuna. Or chicken. Or catnip. He's a lazy bastard. Seriously.

But to get back to my point; he get's a little carried away sometimes. But he means well, and he tries hard. But he's not going to apologize for his opinions.

That's just the way we roll, dawg...um, er...cat.

--Mr. Cupid

Behold thine Enemy

Warning: If you are a Christian with deeply held fundamentalist beliefs who is easily offended and wishes to continue holding me in high regard, DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER.

Okay, I just wanted you to be warned.

Now don't get the wrong idea. This isn't going to be a Christian bashing post, but it is going to be about religion. You see, I came across a great article yesterday while I was on Fark, and I wanted to make you all aware of it. It was published in Rolling Stone and it is entitled God's Senator. It discusses a U.S. senator and his proclivity for one of the world's great evils: Theocracy.

I know, right now you're saying "Ouch, MST, that's kind of harsh. Religion has done some great things for the world." And I would agree with you, in a way. Religious people have done some great things in this world, but you cannot often say the same thing about religion itself. And the greatest harm is done when people begin to combine religion and politics. That, boys and girls, is a match made in Hell, and it is a marriage that breeds mean and murderous offspring.

You see, I don't believe that the greatest threat to our nation today comes from a small but determined group of islamo-fascist crusaders working outside of our country, rather the greatest threat comes from a small but determined group of christo-fascist crusaders working at the very heart of our democracy. And one of the leaders of this crusade is one Senator Sam Brownback of Kansas.

Here are just a few snippets from the article that I think you will find as disturbing as I did. (BTW, all of these are from the article by Jeff Harlet, Rolling Stone Magazine, Jan. 25, 2006. There, now don't sue me. I'm just a humble blogger who's too lazy to look up MLA guidelines for citing online articles.)

Snippet one:
"Brownback believes America is entering a period of religious revival on the scale of the Great Awakening that preceded the nation's creation, an epidemic of mass conversions, signs and wonders, book burnings. But this time, he says, the upheaval will give way to a "cultural springtime," a theocratic order that is pleasant and balmy. It's a vision shared by the mega-churches that sprawl across the suburban landscape, the 24-7 spiritual-entertainment complexes where millions of Americans embrace a feel-good fundamentalism."

You see, it's this "pleasant and balmy" part that really scares me. It's that idea that everything would be fine, if we could all just agree not to do anything out of the ordinary. Just go along. Conform. Don't be different. Because if you are different, then you will have to be punished. And if punishment doesn't work then, as the Bible states, you will be excised from existence just as the offending branch is cut from the tree, or the offending hand is cut from the body. What's that I hear? Is that the sound of jackboots on the pavement?

But what's even more frightening? Well, as they say, behind every good man is a good woman. And he's got one.
Snippet two:
"Brownback's wife, Mary, heiress to a Midwest newspaper fortune, married Sam during her final year of law school and boasts that she has never worked outside the home. "Basically," she says, "I live in the kitchen." From her spot by the stove, Mary monitors all media consumed by her kids. The Brownbacks block several channels, but even so, innuendos slip by, she says, and the nightly news is often "too sexual." The children, Mary says, "exude their faith." The oldest kids "opt out" of sex education at school."

Of course, the new catch phrase for the Republican party is that they are the party of inclusion. And it's true. Brownback includes all both kinds of Christians in his vision of theocracy. He's both a Catholic, and an evangelical protestant.
Snippet three:
"On Sundays, Brownback rises at dawn so he can catch a Catholic Mass before meeting Mary and the kids at Topeka Bible Church. With the exception of one brown-skinned man, the congregation is entirely white. The stage looks like a rec room in a suburban basement: wall-to-wall carpet, wood paneling, a few haphazard ferns and a couple of electric guitars lying around. This morning, the church welcomes a guest preacher from Promise Keepers, a men's group, by performing a skit about golf and fatherhood. From his preferred seat in the balcony, Brownback chuckles when he's supposed to, sings every song, nods seriously when the preacher warns against "Judaizers" who would "poison" the New Testament."

I'm not making this up folks, and I hope that the Rolling Stone reporter isn't either. Notice, by the way, the reference to "Judaizers." Now, I'm not sure what that means, but it sure doesn't sound good. Although it does sound like a convenient group upon which to blame all our problems. Hmmm... I wonder if these "Judaizers" like to camp?

Of course, I don't make these references lightly. I've saved the best for last.
Snippet four:
"One of the little-known strengths of the Christian right lies in its adoption of the "cell" -- the building block historically used by small but determined groups to impose their will on the majority. Seventy years ago, an evangelist named Abraham Vereide founded a network of "God-led" cells comprising senators and generals, corporate executives and preachers. Vereide believed that the cells -- God's chosen, appointed to power -- could construct a Kingdom of God on earth with Washington as its capital. They would do so "behind the scenes," lest they be accused of pride or a hunger for power, and "beyond the din of vox populi," which is to say, outside the bounds of democracy. To insiders, the cells were known as the Family, or the Fellowship. To most outsiders, they were not known at all.

"Communists use cells as their basic structure," declares a confidential Fellowship document titled "Thoughts on a Core Group." "The mafia operates like this, and the basic unit of the Marine Corps is the four-man squad. Hitler, Lenin and many others understood the power of a small group of people." Under Reagan, Fellowship cells quietly arranged meetings between administration officials and leaders of Salvadoran death squads, and helped funnel military support to Siad Barre, the brutal dictator of Somalia, who belonged to a prayer cell of American senators and generals."

Okay, now I'm really freaked out. I've never heard of this Fellowship thing before, but "cells"? Shady groups of fundamentalists conspiring at the highest levels of government? This is the scariest thing I've heard of in years. And I am NOT a conspiracy type.

Breathe, MST, breathe boy...

Alright, I'm not sure where to go with this post anymore. Look, I'm not saying that being religious is bad. I'm not even saying that being a fundamentalist Christian is bad. What I'm saying is that you have to keep that sort of thing out of government. For the sake of everything that is good about our nation, we have to keep up the political fight against people like Brownback.

Well, hell. I apologize if this post has gotten out of hand. I'll admit it's not my best work, but it was something that I felt strongly should be talked about. I hope no one takes offense, but if you did, I'll be happy to talk to you about it.

We all have to live together in peace if this country is going to work. That means we have to be free. Free to pursue happiness in whatever way we wish. That means the fundies get to preach at the hippies and the hippies get to tell them to fuck off. But it means that neither should try and take away the freedoms of the other.

Fascism is just a goose-step away.

Whaddaya Gonna Do?

Okay, alright, I'll admit it. I suppose that I must be the worst blogger in the short history of blogging. Once again, my loyal readers are berating me for my lack of updates. And I can't blame them. I'm like heroin...

But here's my trouble. I'm a temperamental writer. It comes and it goes. In order to write, I have to be inspired. The problem is, most of my inspiration comes when I'm depressed, or angry, or feeling some other strong emotion. And at those times, I'm not in the mood to sit down and write, to let those emotions flow onto the page. So I wait, until I'm in the mood to actually sit down at the computer and start to write, but at that point, I don't' have the inspiration, and I'm just not in the right frame of mind to dredge up the emotional state I was in when I was originally inspired.

Perfect example: I got really wasted last night. It was an accident; a way too strong Mexican martini at Iron Cactus on an empty stomach just totally snuck up on me, and before I knew it, I was way gone. And as usual, when I drink, I start to get philosophical. Well, Michelle brought up my brother, and though I have criticized him plenty, I still love him so I felt the need to explain to Michelle why he does what he does and why she should cut him some slack.

The point is, this would make a great blog entry. It's something that I feel strongly about, and something that I could write about at great length. But now that I'm here, at the computer, I can't dredge up the emotional strength to go into it. UGH!

It's the same thing that hampered my songwriting (well, among other things). I wrote alot of songs when I was in college, as an undergrad. I was single, and lonely, and just bursting at the seams with angst. And I have to tell you, it was a great way to find inspiration. I wrote some pretty good songs--at least I thought they were good-- about loneliness, unrequited love, heartbreak, the works.

And then I met Michelle. And my life changed. I was happy, I mean truly happy, down deep in my soul. But the day I met Michelle, was the day my music died. I simply could dredge up the angst that I needed to pen great songs. And since I had what most would consider an ideal childhood, my parents were great, my career was on track, I wasn't broke, I didn't have a problem with drugs or alcohol, and you can't really make good songs about being fat...well...you get the picture.

So here I sit. Typing away without anything really to say. And yet I have so much to say. Will I get it out someday? Will my blog entries become more frequent, and more worthwhile? Will the great American fantasy novel at last flow forth from my brain through my fingers and onto the page? Will I ever learn how many licks it takes to get to the center of a tootsie-roll tootsie pop?

The world may never know...