February 2006

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February 28, 2006

In Perspective.

My neighbor almost knocked down my door a few minutes ago. She was pounding and screaming and generally freaking out. I was in my boxers. I didn't know what was going on, but she was freaking out. I went into the hall and she's screaming "my baby's not breathing!" She was carrying the baby in her arms. The baby is very, very small and clearly not breathing. I have no idea what to do with a baby that's not breathing, so i run back inside, get my phone and call 911. Meanwhile, my other neighbor has opened her door and has gotten the baby to resume breathing, although the baby's still having trouble and seems slightly out of it. The ambulance is on the way, i'm told. The 911 operator stays on the phone with me and has us lay the baby flat on her back and hold up her head. The baby cries a little, which is good, but she's still not breathing right. The police show up, but still no ambulance.

The fucking ambulance takes forever. Finally, by the time the ambulance gets here, the baby's breathing ok. The mom's crying, but still with it. The woman that got the baby breathing again is pretty much a super hero. It took the ambulance so long to get here, i don't know what would have happened without her.

The baby and her mom just got taken to the hospital. I'm pretty sure everything's going to be ok. Thank god.

Just sorta puts things in perspective, though, you know?




February 27, 2006

I'm a Good Student, After All

YES! I am actually caught up through tomorrow in both Evidence and Professional Responsibilities. Astounding! I'm back on track. I'm not going to fail out! I fucking RULE!

What's that? What about Insurance Law, you say? FUCK YOU! The point is i'm caught up in Evidence and PR, you naysaying twit. More importantly, i'm fucking going to be ready to be on call in Evidence this week. Excellent. Yes, i had to cancel working out with Laurence and Cristina, but you gotta break some eggs to make an omlette. Still, i feel bad and guilty for flaking out and not working out. I'll make it up tomorrow and Wednesday. At least the working out part. Other than that, sorry, guys.

What else?

Ah, yes, i've taken a few minutes to start working on a mix for the Spring Break Road Trip. I'm not sure if the mix will actually go on to a CD given the existence of my iPod, but, still. Anyway, I'm taking the advice of Rob Gordon seriously here:

The making of a great compilation tape, like breaking up, is hard to do and takes ages longer than it might seem. You gotta kick off with a killer, to grab attention. Then you got to take it up a notch, but you don't wanna blow your wad, so then you got to cool it off a notch. There are a lot of rules.
I'm leaning towards up-beat songs with a beach/fun/party/vacation feeling. Here's what i've got so far, in order, and with an accompanying justification.

1. Cherub Rock by The Smashing Pumpkins
The Pumpkins are my favorite band, after all. More importantly, this song is up-beat, and it really gets me going. It's got a great guitar solo and shit loads of energy. For those reasons, this is my default mix cd first track. I think i'm going to keep the amount of SP low on the trip, but i've still got to start off on the right foot, and i think this track does that. It's definitely a "killer," and i think really grabs attention.

2. B.O.B. by Outkast
As much energy as Cherub Rock might have, Bombs Over Baghdad definitely takes it up a notch. The hip-hop aspect will keep Cole happy, and this song will definitely get the members of Tapia, Zachar, Ruby & McNamara ready to hit the Miami clubs.

3. Surf Wax America by Weezer
The song has "surf" in the title, it talks about undertow and talks about beer-like foam on the sea. This is a definite beach song, and it takes it down a notch from B.O.B., which is important, since i'm always mindful of prematurely blowing my wad.

4. The Future Freaks Me Out by Motion City Soundtrack
Included mostly for personal reasons related to my last awesome roadtrip, the one from Flagstaff, Arizona to Madison, Wisconsin. I think it takes it up slightly from Surf Wax America, but maintains a slightly more mellow feel.

5. Where is My Mind? by The Pixies
Definitely merits inclusion because of the references to swimming in the Caribbean. While more mellow than the kick-off songs, i think it still maintains the feel i'm going for. Putting it here closes out the first half of the disc nicely, i think.

6. Let's Get it Started by the Black Eyed Peas
This song's all about partying, and i think it picks up the pace after a few slower songs. It kicks off the second half by reminding the listener that he's about to be knee-deep in topless babes on a beach in Miami. I actually prefer this version to the original "Let's Get Retarded," which sorta sucks, even though this song is good. Strange.

7. Holiday by Weezer
This song is a no-brainer. It's all about going on vacation.

8. Party Hard by Ismael W.K.
A song can be a great pump-up/get excited for Florida song even if it's not very good. This song epitomizes that. It's all about partying and having a good time. Definitely deserves to be on the mix. It pumps things up again right towards the end and sets up a slow burn, which is one of the best ways to end a CD, i think.

9. Holiday by Green Day
Down a notch from Party Hard. Still in keeping with the theme: another song about going on holiday, although in a different context than the Weezer song. Ignore the fact that it's apocalyptic. Just get into the groove. The most marginal song on the mix, but i think it's sufficiently up-beat, etc.

10. Island in the Sun by Weezer
This seems to be required to be the last song on the mix. I can just imagine sitting on a warm Florida beach at sunset listening to this song. Excellent memory associations. Mellow but not depressing. And still on theme. Definitely in.

Ok, so what do you think? What songs should i add? What songs should i take off? (I fear there may be one too many songs called "Holiday".) What order?

Man, i can't wait for spring break.




The Most Amazing Thing I've Ever Seen

"While My Guitar Gently Weeps," ukelele version. No joke. Courtesy of PJ.

Also, i added another new link: Overheard in Law School. These are things law students have overheard in law school, although not necessarily the UW law school. I hope you guys get a kick out of these.




February 26, 2006

FIRE! and Potluck

So, yesterday was the day of the big potluck which, for the record, was my idea. I had been hounding my mom all day for an idea for a good, easy, Mexican recipe. Finally, we settled on enchiladas. I went and bought all the necessary ingredients and went home with about two hours before the potluck and started getting ready to make these things. I turned on the stove, started heating up the oil and sauce, etc. Well, about five minutes after i turned on the stove, the fire alarm starts going off. And it's fucking loud. This had never happened before, so i didn't know what to do. Also, i sort of was afraid it was my fault, even though there had been no smoke in my apartment. I look out into my hallway, and my neighbors are all in various states of confusion and panic. We all get out behind the building and i notice that some of my neighbors are carrying their cats. "Oh," i think, "i should get Smash." So i go back into the building (thereby risking my life) and get Smash. Then i tried to hold him in my arms for about 45 minutes. Needless to say, he was not too happy, and made that very clear. With his claws. I have the scratches to prove it. I also met some of my Spanish-speaking neighbors, who invited me to drink with them and had a few not-so-nice things to say about our landlord. I think our landlord kicks ass, so whatever.

The firefighters eventually came and determined that there had been an electrical fire downstairs. Apparently, the whole basement was filled with thick black smoke. So, good thing that the alarm went off. However, the firefighters neglected to tell us when it was all-clear, or even when they left, so we continued to freeze our asses off outside for an additional, and unnecessay, 10 minutes.

By the time i got back in doors, there was only half an hour before the potluck was supposed to start. Having no time to cook, i decided i would just bring a bunch of booze. I went to the liquor store and bought a bottle of Captain Morgain (got a little captain, captain, CAPTAIN) and some vodka. The guy at the liquor store didn't card me, saying that i had the sideburns to prove my age. Sweet, i thought.

I got to the potluck. Lots of people were already there. Good crowd, excellent company. Eugene had made excellent egg rolls. Ryan made some sort of Irish onion thing that was good. Cristina made fantastic shepher's pie. Elise brought some of the best lasagna i've had. I didn't have Laurence's beans, but i hear they were good. And, of course, Katherine's mom's pizza was a hit. As were Katherine's brIsmael old fashioneds. There was lots of booze, good people, and great conversation, mostly concentrating on retelling old war (read: drinking) stories. Good times, great oldies.

There was also a grape war, which ended with a grape being plastered on Katherine's wall. She didn't seem to mind. Laurence and i becamse blood brothers til the end of space and time (though no blood was exchanged), Laurence and Ryan got into a heated discussion and had to "take it outside," where they got more beer, and Zachar just about brought charges against me for sexual assault.

I'm going to give out some Ismael Awards of General Excellence and Kick-assedness now. The first recipient, for initiating the great grape war of 2006, Count Ruby. Congratulations.

The second recipient, for excellence in hosting a potluck, Ms. Katherine "Cooch" Smith. This makes her the only person ever to be awarded two Ismael Awards of General Excellence and Kick-assedness. Congratulations.

Finally, the award for most entertaining person of the evening. First, the nominees:
Ryan, for being generally entertaining
Zachar, for taking the snap and going back for a pass when there was no context, no football, and no reason. at all.
And Laurence, for taking a shot of "vodka," which was actually water, proclaiming it was water, being convined it was vodka, and then believing it was vodka.

And the Ismael goes to . . . LAURENCE!

Congratulations, sir.




Bode Miller is a Douchebag

"Party at an Olympic level," indeed.




February 25, 2006

Tito's, Poker, Perkins

'Twas a marquee evening tonight. First, Ryan procured bottles of Tito's vodka. It lived up to the hype as well as could be imagined. It's good, but not the best vodka i've ever had. I still think that's Level, by a mile.

We played poker. Somehow, i lost $15. Laurence won, get this, $35. That's thirty-five dollars, US. Each buy-in was $5. That means that Laurence single-handedly took 7 buy ins. Un-fucking-believable. This beats the previous record of most money earned by a single person in a single night. The previous record holder was Cole at $31. Laurence had $20 in black chips. Just fucking crazy. The high-water mark for the night was a hand involving Laurence, New Guy, and me. The flop came x J Q, the jack and queen were both of spades. I'm holding 9 10 off suit, giving me an open-end straight draw and no flush possibilities. I bet big on the flop, get called by both New Guy and Laurence. Fourth street is a blank. I bet big again, get called by both again. River is the 8 of spades, giving me the nut straight. I'm the short stack, so i go all in. New Guy calls, Laurence goes all in (he's the chip leader), putting New Guy all in, New Guy calls. I show my nut straight. New Guy shows the A K of spades for the nut flush. Laurence turns over 9 10 of spades for a fucking straight flush. Laurence takes down the $15 pot and eliminates both New Guy and me at the same time for the second time that night. Un-fucking-believable.

After Cole went all out on a bluff, i proposed we go to Perkin's for some late-night pie. Everyone's down. I called Katherine, she was down, and we're on our way. There are two Perkin's in Madison, one of which is right near my house, but with indefinite hours, the other far away, but with known 24/7 openness. We decide to go to the far away one because of the guarantee of its being open. When we drive past the one by my house, it looks open, so Cole and i make some phone calls and get everyone else (there were four cars involved) to converge on the Perkin's by my house while we go pick up Katherine. Turns out this Perkin's is closed, so we call everyone else and tell them to go where they were originally going, which they were already half-way to before. Big debacle, all Cole's fault. Anyway, we get to Perkin's, have a late-night meal, and now we're all home.

Strangest thing, though. Zachar mentioned a premonition of impending doom, and now i can't shake that feeling. The leaves rustling when i got home confirmed for me that the world is going to end soon. Thank god i'm not a psychic. That would be really freaky.

Oh, and also, check out my latest added link.




February 24, 2006

Random Shit That's On My Mind

1. Why the fuck is Bono nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize again? I'm sorry, but he's a (shitty) rock star. He needs to accept his place in the world and stick to it. If he wants to write a song about forgiving 3rd world contries' debt, that's his business, but, for the love of god, stay out of the international policymaking arena. This is part of a larger trend, already discussed by Katherine, where organizations seem to be falling all over themselves in an attempt to lavish even more undeserved praise on U2 and it's members. Next thing you know, The Edge will win a fucking gold medal. I for one say this has got to end. What kind of a message are we sending? Next thing you know, Tara Reid really will become politically aware. And then we're all fucked.

2. Fuck Critical Mass. The next time i'm driving around and i suddently find myself having to slow down for a street full of assholes on their bikes with drums, i'm gunning it and taking the consequences. God, i hate hippies.

3. Wanted: one cleaning lady. Pay: none. Qualifications: not being afraid to clean up after one hell of a messy 24-year-old. Apply in person or via email.

That is all.




Why in the Hell Did I Ever Want to Grow Up?

I'll tell you why. It's because when you're 12 years old, you think that when you're an adult, you're able to do whatever the fuck you want, whenever the fuck you want. When i was 12, i was sure that being an adult consisted primarily of having sex on an almost constant basis, staying up as late as i fucking wanted, eating all the fucking McDonald's i could handle, watching tv to my heart's content and driving. Didn't matter where the fuck i was driving to, i would just drive. Oh, it would be sweet indeed to be an adult.

Like everything else i thought when i was 12, though, i was wrong about adulthood. Sure, i set my own bed time, but i have all these fucking responsibilities in the morning. It sucks. McDonald's, it turns out, isn't all that great. In fact, their food is horrible. Not to mention that i suddenly have to consider the fact that i don't want to break the 900 pound mark. And tv's great, if you have the time to watch it. Which i don't. Driving blows. As a 12 year old, driving represents the ultimate freedom, the ultimate ability to say "fuck you!" to your immediate surroundings and go somewhere else on a whim. Well, you know what? Gas and car maintenance all cost lots of money. Money i don't have. And as much as i'd love to take a random road trip to Chicago right now, i'd also like to not fail out of law school.

Don't even get me started on how stupid i was to ever believe that sex would be free-flowing. What a moron i was.

This is the kind of stuff i'm thinking of today, a beautiful Friday afternoon. A Friday afternoon i'm spending sitting in the Grand Reading Room of the law library, staring out the giant windows onto Bascom Mall at the trees and the snow and the cool old buildings. A Friday afternoon i'm spending wondering: "If this is what being an adult is like, what do i have to look forward to?"

I guess there's poker tonight, and the potluck tomorrow. But, man, being grown up sucks. Of course, when i was 12, i hated being 12. The grass is always greener, i suppose. Of course, i prefer being 24 to being 12. I'm generally really happy with my life. It's just . . . i wish i had more time for sledding.




February 23, 2006

What the Fuck is Wrong With the "F-Bomb"

Ok, if anyone knows me or reads this thing or meets me or sees me in the atrium or passes me in the street, they know that my absolute, all-time favorite word is "fuck." For an excellent explication of why fuck is the best word ever, go here. (I think that may have been written by Monty Python, i'm not really sure. I'm getting conflicting reports on this.)

In any event, there's nothing wrong with "fuck." I mean, i use the word so casually, i don't even realize i'm saying it half the time. That has gotten me in just a few sticky spots, let me tell you.

So, imagine my surpise when i came to Wisconsin and heard the expression "f-bomb," as in "whoa, you just dropped the f-bomb." I'm sorry, but what the fuck is that about? Are we children? Can we not curse with impunity? Unacceptable.

And then, today, i'm walking back from lunch, and my friend says "effing." "Effing"? What in the fuck is that shit? Seriously. Then i saw "effing" on someone's blog. What in the hell is going on here? One of the best parts of being an adult (or a pseudo-adult) is that you can curse all you want! For example, witness this sentence:

Fuck, I fucking hate those motherfucking fucking fuckers.
Now that's cursing. That's how curse words are supposed to be used. When i have kids, i'm going to make it my active goal to make my kids' first words be curse words, preferably "fuck."

Anyway, let's all band together and make sure that we preserve the heritage of one of America's finest traditions: inappropriate, gratuitous cursing. It's the only fucking way to go.




The Source

Prompted by PJ's story of unbelievable idiocy, i did some wikipedia research. The habanero article at wikipedia noted that Habanero peppers are widely considered to be very fucking hot. So hot, in fact, that they generally rate at about 100,000 to 350,000 Scoville units. Wondering what the fuck Scoville units are, i clicked over to the article on Scoville units. It turns out that the Scoville scale is a way of ranking and quantifying hotness. Originally, the Scoville measurement would be determined by diluting the hot stuff being tested in sugar water in decreasing concentration until a panel of 5 tasters could taste no hotness at all. Now, the hotness is determined by using advanced scientific methods (read: magic) to determine that actual concentration of hot stuff (capsaicin) exists in the solution. For reference, a few relevant Scoville measurements:

16,000,000 - pure capsaicin
7,100,000 - "The Source" hot sauce
5,300,000 - Police grade pepper spray
100,000 - 350,000 - Habanero chili
2,500-8,000 - Jalapeno pepper
2,500 - Tobasco Sauce
0 - Bell Pepper
Ok, now, i want to point something out: there apparently exists hot sauce that is hotter than pepper spray. For context, remember that pepper spray is the shit you're supposed to spray on someone when they're trying to rape you. So, there are people in the world who actually put stuff on food that is hotter than rapist repelant. That's fucking crazy.

Now, in case you think that this hot sauce is the figment of some wikipedia editor's imagination, here's the manufacturer's webpage for "The Source." Note the price: this fucking hot sauce costs $85 per ounce. For reference, the price of gold is about $500 per ounce and the price of silver is about $9 per ounce (i'm ignoring the difference between Troy ounces and normal ounces. A Troy oz. is about 10% greater than a normal ounce. There are 12 Troy oz. in a pound rather than 16.) So, this fucking hot sauce costs about the same as almost a pound of silver. For hot sauce.

I think our mandated course of conduct is clear: we must get our hands on "The Source." We must fool someone into eating "The Source." We must make sure we have alibis.

I propose some sort of Atrium money-raising scheme. Who's down?




The Stupidest Person I Know

Today, via IM, PJ informed me that he had taken an habanero pepper, cut slits down the side, put it in Tito's vodka, and then drank. His justification was that he had read (at the Tito's webpage, i believe) that this was "good for you." At the time that he reported this to me, PJ had been eating bread and guzzling milk for half an hour. Worst of all, he wasted perfectly good vodka. I beleive that this clearly makes PJ the stupidest person i know.




February 22, 2006

Am i A Type A Personality?

You Have A Type A- Personality
A-


You are one of the most balanced people around
Motivated and focused, you are good at getting what you want
You rule at success, but success doesn't rule you.

When it's playtime, you really know how to kick back
Whether it's hanging out with friends or doing something you love!
You live life to the fullest - encorporating the best of both worlds




February 21, 2006

Winter Olympics, 2006

So, i don't have cable and, therefore, have not been actually watching the olympics. However, i am reading about them daily and being generally very excited by the whole thing. I think the idea of the olympics is really fucking cool: mortal men competing in a variety of challenges, for no other reason than to see who is the best at, say, sledding down a hill or throwing a rock on ice. It's fucking awesome.

So far, my favorite moments have included:

  1. That American snowboarder fucking up. She doesn't feel bad, she says, so i don't feel bad for her. I know i'd be pissed at myself for throwing away the gold, though.
  2. Apolo Anton Ohno fucking up again. I really wanted him to live up to the hype last time. He didn't, really. This time, i believe, he got screwed out of a medal in one event and got a bronze in another. Still way better than i could do, but not up to the hype.
  3. Bode Miller sucking ass. Man, that guy's an arrogant prick.

I know i've only listed events where people have failed, but i actually really like the moments of triumph, too. It's just that none of those come to mind just now.

Anyway, in honor of the olymics, i have added a medal counter to the blog. At the time of this post, the USA is in second place behind the fucking Germans. I believe that we can beat them, though, because, as Zachar would say, America! Fuck Yeah!




February 20, 2006

Vodka.

Vodka has long been my favorite liquor. I pretty much love it in all forms: on the rocks, vodka gimlets, vodka tonics, vodka sours. I do prefer dirty gin martinis, but vodka martinis will do in a pinch.

This begs the question, of course, of what vodka is my favorite. Well, i've had many vodkas: Grey Goose, Svedka, Stoli's, Finlandia, Skyy, and even Philip's, which is even worse than you'd imagine a cheap, plastic-bottled vodka could be. However, to this day, i have had no better vodka than Level, which was the first bottle of alcohol that was ever opened in my apartment, way back in the day when PJ and i first came here. Level is good. Smooth. Tastes good.

But now, PJ informs me that there is a new, good, more cost-effective, yet still on-par with Level vodka. It's called Tito's, it's made in Texas, and it comes in a gawdy bottle with a big gold label. I haven't gotten my hands on it yet, but the Tito's webpage informs me that it is available here in good ol' Wisconsin. I'll be getting some this weekend. I'm excited. It got a pretty good review at Liquor Snobs.

I will inform you of whether Tito's lives up to el grande hypo.

UPDATE:
I went to the Tito's webpage again. Now, the page is lame sorta because when you get there, it asks you to enter your age. I entered 24, my actual age, and was allowed to enter. However, if i were 13, i would have entered "54" and been allowed to enter. Moreover, there's nothing on the page that's really age-sensitive. But here's the lamest part, the part that prompted an update. I went back to the page and, instead of entering my age, hit "cancel." You know what happened? Some stupid message came up, i hit "OK," and was allowed into the page.

Not only is their stupid little security measure stupid, but there's no way not to get to the page. Man, that's lame.

DOUBLE UPDATE:
Went back to the page again. Entered "12" as my age, hit enter. Window came up saying "sorry, you're only 12, you can't see the page" or whatever. Hit "OK," window went away, i went into the page. What the fuck?

I guess the only point is to be able to say "well, hey, we told the kids they couldn't come in, but they still did. Not our fault." Still, lame.




February 19, 2006

Weezer . . .

You know, i have to say that i like Weezer's "Beverly Hills." The rest of the Make Believe album, however, leaves a lot to be desired. I'll briefly review the collected works of Weezer now:

Weezer (Blue Album)
Excellent. One of the best albums ever. To be honest, i don't know if i can separate the music from the personal emotional meaning of each of those songs. Just amazing. From start to finish, not a single song i would normally skip. From "My Name is Jonas" through "Undone (The Sweater Song)" to "Only in Dreams," the album is almost flawless.

Pinkerton
A tribute to the opera "Madam Butterfly" and another amazing album. This proved that the Blue Album wasn't a fluke. It represents a definite shift in direction, but it's still awesome. Though i usually prefer the Blue Album, this album is simply amazing. Highlight songs include "Tired of Sex," a rousing opener, "El Scorcho," the song that defined my perfect woman (half japanese cello player), and the heartbreaking "Butterfly," which i still love despite the fact that it's the song i listened to for 45 minutes or so while my ex-girlfriend made out with some other kid. Excellent album.

Weezer (Green Album)
Hm. Well, what the fuck happened here? Sorta catchy sometimes, i guess. "Island in the Sun" is clearly the sequel to "Holiday." But . . . something's missing. And why are all the fucking guitar solos exact rip-offs of the vocal lines? definitely a let-down. But still listenable.

Maladroit
Well, goddamn. I guess it's ok. Very rap-rock influenced. That doesn't make any sense. I'm starting to notice a complete lack of acoustic guitars.

Make Believe
Like i said, i like "Beverly Hills." But i think Weezer's done. I'm going to give them one more album. It had goddamned better be awesome. If not, then i guess i'm ready to celebrate the death of another of my favorite bands.




February 16, 2006

Well I Will be Goddamned

Punk's getting married. I guess this is what the twilight zone feels like.




What in the Fuck Happened to America?

Ok, i want to get a few preliminary matters out of the way.

First, i'm going to try to keep this post reasonable and composed. It may, however, veer into an all out rant as my anger on this topic is almost boundless. I'm also going to try to keep it fairly focused although, again, i may fail at this.

Second, i want to assure everyone that my love for America is unlimited. To me, America is the country that, in just one generation, took my family from poor, uneducated, non-English-speakers and turned us into a fairly successful little group. My cousin is an ultra-successful lawyer (if a bit of an asshole). My other cousin is a supervising manager at her job. Another cousin works for that same company and is raising a lovely family. I'm in law school. I don't know, the fact that all of this happened in this country makes me proud to be an American.

But the America i love isn't defined by lines on a map. Rather, the America i love is an idea that some people had almost 250 years ago. Forgive me if that sounds incredibly sappy, but that's how i feel. That idea, based in the notion that "all men are created equal," encapsulates such quaint notions as "freedom" and "liberty" and all those other buzz words. But, the thing is, i don't think those words were just buzz words back then. I think that, to one degree or another, the men that put this country together really believed the stuff they wrote in those amazing documents called the Declaration of Independence and the U.S. Constitution.

America has never been perfect. It was imperfect from its inception (look at the 3/5ths compromise). But the ideal to which we have always strived is admirable and incomparable.

Third, i want to reaffirm my disgust and contempt for the attacks of September 11. The day that those attacks happened i remember thinking that everything was going to change. The last time i cried, and i mean wept openly, was on Sept. 13th, 2001. I was working at a TV station at the time and was working the overnight master control shift. There wasn't anything for me to do, since all we were doing was rerunning news coverage of the attacks. Sometime at about 2am, i sort of lost it.

I want you to keep all of these things in mind while you read the rest of this, because i want you to know where i'm coming from.

The kind of shit that America has done in response to the attacks is, simply, unacceptable. The topic of war is complex, and i can't claim to understand everything about it. What i do know is that things aren't as simple as either side of that debate would have you believe. However, i must note that i, like much of America, have begun to think we're fucked. War's complicated, and i don't know what else to say about it. What i have a lot to say about is the Guantanamo Bay prison.

The U.N. called on the U.S. to shut that facility down as quickly as possible. In what can now be properly called "Pulling an America," America gave the world community a big "fuck you" and insisted that it will not be shutting down Guantanamo Bay any time soon. Nor will it be trying the people detained there. Nor will it be releasing them. By way of an explanation, Scott McClellan offered the following:

"These are dangerous terrorists that we're talking about that are there and I think we've talked about that issue before and nothing's changed in terms of our views."
Well, thanks, Scott, for washing over such an important moral issue so quickly. I guess if they're dangerous terrorists, they don't get rights. I guess that when our Founding Fathers sought to bring forth a More Perfect Union, when they said that all men "are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, . . . among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness," they implicitly meant to exclude dangerous terrorists. As a side note, i want to know how we know that they're dangerous terrorists? Is it that they've been tried? NO! So how do we know? I guess we don't, really, other than the fact that they seem to share skin tone, religion, and location with other people that are terrorists. So, i guess it's ok to treat them inhumanely because they look like terrorists. Have we learned nothing from history? Do we not remember what happens when you marginalize a group by reducing their entire existence to some label? Reducing someone to a label is the first step towards horrible, horrible things. I'll spare you the illustrative examples, but you get my point.

Let's assume for the time being that each and every single one of the detainees at Guantanamo Bay is, in fact, a dangerous, America-hating, Islamic extremist terrorist who would hijack an airplane and crash it into a public elementary school if he got the chance. Does that give us the right to beat them, to deprive them of food, to keep them from praying to their God, to keep them up for days at a time, to expose them to temperature extremes, or to deprive them of their senses? Is this what the Founding Fathers had in mind? I don't think so. Nothing that those people did or would have done merits the treatment they've received. If our government thinks they're dangerous terrorists, then put them on trial in The Hague. If we can prove it, then execute them or put them in jail. Otherwise, release them to be with their families.

America has lost its way. It's convenient to blame it on Bush and Co., but i think this happened a long time ago. George Washington could have served out the rest of his life as perpetual President. Instead, he stepped down after two terms. That's what America's about. Would anyone do that now? No, probably not. What we have now is dispicable. For the first time in my life, i am ashamed of my country. And that makes me very sad indeed.




Unfairness

Ok, so i was over at the Formidable Law Blogger's blog, reading some of the comments on her post about potentially canceling class because of the snow. Ms. Althouse considered cancelling class because students who live further away or have children that are in school (and, therefore, home today because of the snow day) would be unable to make it to class while the normal law student would be able to make it. Therefore, having class, argued Ms. Althouse, would have a disparate and unfair impact on those student who, through no fault of their own, simply are not able to get to class today.

So, one of the commentators said something to the effect of "well, life's inherently unfair, so don't cancell class."

This gives me an opportunity to rant, which i love to do.

First of all, the statement that "life's inherently unfair" is clearly true. It's not fair, for example, that my biggest worry today is driving home, feeling better, and trying to catch up in my classes while for someone else today presents a very real danger of death. However, what this commentator is saying is that, because life is inherently unfair, it's ok to add additional unfairness to the world. Well, that argument doesn't hold water. In fact, i think the opposite is true: because the world is inherently unfair, it is our duty to try to make it more fair. I certainly hope i'm not alone in holding that view.

Certainly, the ideal is something i've fallen far short of myself. But we should, all of us, try to do the right thing whenever we can. That will, i think, lead to a more fair world. There are things we can't control, like the whether, but we can control ourselves and our actions. And it is our responsibility as good people to make sure that we're as fair as possible.

Therefore, i say cancel the class, Althouse, and be proud that you did the right thing.




Holy Fucking Blizzard

I skipped my first class this morning. I went outside at about 10 to turn on the fucking car, and it was burried under 10 inches of snow. That was pretty awesome. Thanks to the seXterra's four wheel drive, i got to school just a few minutes late for Evidence. My last class has been cancelled. Man, i love snow.




February 15, 2006

Snow

It's snowing outside. Looks like maybe an inch and a half. Outside my window, every surface that is close to horizontal looks fluffy and white.

I love snow. Perhaps it's a function of growing up in Arizona, where snow was rare, but i always thought that snow was awesome. In my mind, it's almost as if god decided that the world wasn't beautiful enough, so he added something to it - an ethereal, intangible something. Snow is tied, i think, for most awesome meteorological phenomenon with monsoons. Here in Wisinconsin, though, we don't get many monsoons.

I'm always surprised when people who grew up in areas where it snows constantly express any displeasure at all at the sight of the white stuff. I guess that's one of those things i just won't ever get.

For me, snow continues to be a source of almost boundless beauty and fun. Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.




A Brief Explanation of What's Wrong With All of Us

So, Valentine's Day has now come and gone and, as i pointed out, i spent it alone. Again. In addition, it is now official: i'm sick. There's no way around that. So, i spend most of the afternoon in bed, trying to not be sick. Instead i just slept and then felt more sick when i woke up. In any event, now i can't sleep, and i was lying in bed thinking, and my current predicament (the whole thing with my being alone) was on my mind. So, here's what i've come up with.

On the one hand, girls are liars and they're stupid. Now, before word spreads that i am, in fact a sexist and confirmed it on my own blog, let me explain and let me add that men are stupid, too. (and please don't read anything into the fact that i use "men" to refer to adult males but "girls" to refer to adult females. It doesn't mean anything, so fuck off.) First, though, let me explain how girls are stupid:

In general, girls say they want men who possess a few simple qualities:

  1. Girls want a man that treats them well (included in this is a man that they can talk to, should that need arise)
  2. Girls want a man that is funny and fun to be around
Each girl, i think, adds a few things to this basic list (for example, some women prefer athletic men, or men who are sensitive, or men who are actually women) but i think this simple list captures the essence of what women want. In short, women want someone they can identify with, rely on, be supported by, be needed by, etc. Sounds really simple, doesn't it? That's probably because you, whether male or female, dear reader, want exactly the same things.

But these basic requirements can't possibly be the whole story. Why, you ask? Well, simple. Let's take the example of a friend of mine. He's funny. Smart. Fun to be around. Sensitive. He has excellent prospects for future productivity and child-raising activities. He's an all-around nice guy. And he's single. And it's not like he's ugly, either. That's why i'm using my friend as an example rather than myself. I may not fall into the so ugly you can't stop staring crowd, but i ain't no Calvin Klein underwear model, either. Anyway, back to my friend. Why is he single?

I'll tell you why: it's because the criteria by which girls choose mates are all fucked up. I'll take the two criteria i listed before in turn. The first one was "girls want a man that treats them well." Ok, that seems pretty fucking straight forward. Turns out, though, that there are a few hidden qualifiers that we're not seeing. Given these qualifiers, the above statements become the rubric by which women go into the world and try to find mates. I'll illustrate these now, with the hidden words appearing in blue (mostly because i discovered a new feature on here).

Girls want a man that treats them well sometimes (that way, each act of kindness is worth so much more)
or
Girls want a man that
will treat them well someday (that way, an immediate physical attraction can be rationalized)
or
Girls want a man that
can be changed so that he will treat them well (that way, the girl will be affirmed: he changed for me, she'll say. This, together with the first statement above, explains why girls are attracted to the classic "bad boy")

See what these hidden words do? For whatever reason, the absolute last thing a girl wants is a man that consistently treats here well now.

Let's look at the second basic requirement which, as you'll remember, was "girls want a man that is funny and fun to be around." The same analysis applies:

Girls want a man that is funny and fun to be around sometimes (same as above: this way, each act of funniness will be worth so much more)
or
Girls want a man that is funny and fun to be around
but only when he's around only his girlfriend (same as the third example above: the girl ends up feeling special)
or
Girls want a man that is uniquely funny and fun to be around,
to the extent that everyone else thinks he's a fucking asshole or boring (again, the girl ends up feeling special: only I understand his unique sense of humor, therefore, we were meant to be together)

Analagous reasoning can be applied to any criteria that women give for who they want to be with and why they are with who they're with. If the above discussion has made it seem that the primary problem is that women are stupid, i apologize. That's only part of the problem (because only some women are stupid). Another, much larger part of the problem is that men have taught women to keep their sights low and to be suspicious of the "good" guys. Women at some point, i imagine, really wanted and sought out what they now only say they want. At that time, the good men of the world must have been beating the women off with sticks. But times have changed. Remember Jurassic Park where some of the female dinosaurs became male dinosaurs so that they could get it on and have baby dinosaurs, thereby ruining the whole Jurassic Park thing? Well, something like that happened: bad men became good men. Only they didn't actually become good men, they became bad men pretending to be good men. And now we must all of us, male or female, suffer. It's our fault, mostly.

The man is actually really simple to explain. It boils down to one thing: men know what appears in blue above. They are aware of what women actually look for (the stuff in the blue) and they know how to emulate those things. But, now, let's think about this: what kind of a person knows how to fake certain character traits for the express purpose of engaging in sexual congress? If you said "douchebags," you're absolutely right.

So let's look at the system we've got. We've got women using lame criteria to choose their mates, and we've got men faking those criteria. Is this really the makings of successful relationships? I think not.

So what should we do, as a people? First, if girls really want a guy who treats them well and who's funny, then consider going out with the guy who treats you well and makes you laugh on a consistent basis. Certainly, just because some guy has a unique sense of humor or stands to improve his personality doesn't mean he should be discounted, but these things shouldn't be taken as prima facie evidence that someone is "a catch," either. Some people, like me, like to give people (including girls) a hard time as a joke, as a form of endearing ribbing. But if i tell you i'll call on Monday, i'll call on Monday. If i tell you i'll pick you up at 8, i'll pick you up at 8. If someone doesn't do those things, some red flags should be going up.

It is men, though, that have the most to answer for. In short, we should be ashamed of ourselves. In the world, there are about 3 billion women, and we seem to make it our goal to treat every single one of them like shit. Well, i, for one, apologize for my part in it and promise to try harder in the future. The rest of you, remember that there's more to women than vaginas.




February 14, 2006

Of Hate and Animus

So, some kids here at the University of Wisconsin vandalized the property of a homosexual RA. Vandalism is, of course, not cool. In addition, i don't personally believe that vandalizing someone's property because they're gay is cool, either. In fact, i think that's patently uncool. And stupid. Homophobia is stupid.

Having gotten all that out of the way, though, let's consider the fact that the kids have been charged with felonious because their crimes, though misdemeanors, are aggravated because they're "hate crimes." This seems pretty fucking stupid to me, as well.

To begin, let's consider what the homophobic vandals actually did. According to this Badger Herald (the UW student newspaper) article:

According to the police report, the four students allegedly wrote offensive, anti-homosexual comments on the liaison's white dry-erase board, ripped down LGBT posters and spit on his door.
Now, let's consider. The purpose of a whiteboard is to be written on, erased, and then written on again. Whatever (admittedly uncool) anti-gay slogan these kids wrote on the whiteboard, it could be erased in about 2 seconds, give or take a second. The LGBT posters were, i presume, made of paper, which, presumably, would be easily replaced or re-put-up. Then there's the issue of spit, an unpleasant bodily fluid, but not the most offensive and one that is done away with. So, basically, these kids got the other kid's door messy. Yeah, i'd say they deserve to be charged with a crime that carries a maximum penalty of 3 years in jail and/0r $20,000 in fines. Granted, i haven't looked at the statutes in question, which may require little or no actual property value, but the potential liability that these young men are now faced with is absurd.

The kids have done little or no permanent damage to property. The worst thing they've done is hurt someone's feelings. As anyone who knows me should know, i don't give a shit if people do things that hurt someone's feelings. In fact, i think it's you're right to hurt someone's feelings through words and other forms of speech. Does that mean i think that these idiot kids had the right to fuck with someone else's property? Absolutely not. They should be subject to whatever penalties the dorm they lived in prescribes for vandalism. But to say that they've done something so bad as to warrant the involvement of the police, and then say that they deserve to be charged with felonies, meaning that, if convicted, they will forever carry the stigma that comes with being a convicted felon, pushes the boundaries of reason so far as to be absurd.

Just like the situation involving "blasphemous" depictions of the Prophet, this comes down to stupid people reacting to stupid things stupid people have done in stupid ways.




What a Stupid Fucking Day

As a preliminary matter, i want to state that i will be saying nothing original at all in this post.

Valentine's day is, of course, the stupidest of all holidays since it is most obviously a construct of the fucking greeting card companies. It doesn't even have the pretextual justifications that something like, say, thanksgiving has. While the whole story with the fucking pilgrims and the indians is mostly crap, at least there's a story. Valentine's day doesn't even get that. All it does is force us to be in love or be second class citizens. There's not even a feast involved. This day would be a lot easier to stomach if the traditional Valentine's day turkey was involved. Not to mention that Valentine's day has to follow in the wake of much better holidays like Christmas and New Year's.

In general, Valentine's day sucks balls. Still, it'd be nice to have someone to spend it with. Which i don't. Again.




February 13, 2006

It Turns Out That I, Like Katherine, Am Curling

You Are Curling
What you lack in athleticism, you make up for in concentration. And while curling isn't much more of a sport than bowling, you *can* win a gold medal for it!



February 12, 2006

Of Raw Fish and Rice

So, the first time i tried sushi, i almost threw up. Somehow, though, i was convinced to try it again and it has since been my absolute favorite food, surpassing such favorites as pizza and french fries. It's always been my dream to be able to eat sushi at will and this semester has brought me closer to realizing that dream than i've ever been before. Through an odd confluence of invitations, i have had sushi no fewer than once a week for the past four weeks. One week, i ate it at least four times. Crazy.

This is due, i think, to two things. First, Takara on State Street has a lunch special every day: for $8.50 you get two rolls, or three rolls for $11.25. Now, that's just awesome. Second is the fact that Katherine has recently discovered sushi and we've been going to Edo once a week.

Don't get me wrong, i'm not complaining. This is awesome. This way, i'll be ready to switch to an all-sushi diet when i get rich and can afford to buy an elderly Japanese man to make sushi on demand in my mansion. Oh yeah!




Cheney = Homicidal Maniac?

So, Dick Cheney shot someone. I guess it was only a matter of time. Here's my favorite part:

“Fortunately, the vice president has got a lot of medical people around him and so they were right there and probably more cautious than we would have been,� she said. “The vice president has got an ambulance on call, so the ambulance came.�

I guess if you're constantly on the verge of your 17th massive heart attack, you'd better be prepared. Wonder what Cheney would do if he was poor?




February 11, 2006

The Beetle in the Box

Famed philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein had this hypothetical in his Philosophical Investigations. One of my philosophy profs., Dr. Malone, was very intrigued by it. I never understood it. It involved people carrying bettles in boxes. It was, as near as i can tell, an attempt to demonstrate that the idea of private language (a language known only to you and spoken only to yourself) is nonsensical. I wrote a paper about the idea of private language once, arguing that private languages were possible.

Now, i'm starting to wonder if i have developed my own private language. I haven't developed my own words: i still use the words in English and Spanish. In fact, i even use the same gramatical rules as those languages. But, clearly, something is going on. I've always thought that i've been pretty effective in my use of language, but i'm not, apparently.

It doesn't matter how much i try to make myself understood. It doesn't matter how much i explain or rationalize. I think i'm doomed: no one has any idea what's going on in my head. I think this is demonstrated very clearly by the posts on this blog referring to inappropriate things i've said or to analogies i've made. I guess now i know how Van Gough and the Unabomber felt. I only hope that the worst thing i do is cut off my ear.




Fuck Everything, We're Doing Five Blades

Well, i will be goddamned. In another amazing sample of life following (hilarious) art, the Gillette company has actually released a fucking razor with five blades. Yeah, five fucking blades. Six, if you count the one on the back of the thing for "precision shaving."

The truly amazing thing is that The Onion foresaw this a few years ago in what is, to this day, my favorite Onion article ever. Check it out here. I swear, i would put money on Gillette having been inspired by this article. Here are a few choice excerpts:

Would someone tell me how this happened? We were the fucking vanguard of shaving in this country. The Gillette Mach3 was the razor to own. Then the other guy came out with a three-blade razor. Were we scared? Hell, no. Because we hit back with a little thing called the Mach3Turbo. That's three blades and an aloe strip. For moisture. But you know what happened next? Shut up, I'm telling you what happened—the bastards went to four blades. Now we're standing around with our cocks in our hands, selling three blades and a strip. Moisture or no, suddenly we're the chumps. Well, fuck it. We're going to five blades.

This is true. The Mach3 was the razor to own. Virtually every man i know sang its praises, and a few women, too. It was so good, in fact, that my friend Mark refused to buy the Mach3 on the principle that it was so good that if he was ever in the position where he could not use the Mach3, he would not shave. Given the possibility of a desert island castaway adventure with only a sharp knife with which to shave, Mark refused to expose himself to the awesomeness of the Mach3.

What part of this don't you understand? If two blades is good, and three blades is better, obviously five blades would make us the best fucking razor that ever existed. Comprende? We didn't claw our way to the top of the razor game by clinging to the two-blade industry standard. We got here by taking chances. Well, five blades is the biggest chance of all.

Perhaps it was a chance, i don't know. What i do know is that the new Gillette Fusion, with a grand total of six blades, is the most amazing fucking razor i've ever used, especially with the vibrating feature, of which i was very skeptical. I'm never using less than five blades again. And that's that.




February 9, 2006

The Way We Get By

So, i'm feeling better today. Still down. Extremely fucking tired and sleepy. But not as bad as yesterday.

The book Youth in Revolt kicks ass so far. Katherine gave it to me. I have a new hero: Nick Twisp. Is it wrong for me to look up to a fictional 14-year-old? (My admiration of Nick Twsip does not extend to his act of felatio. Also, that's not what 14-year-old boys do, at least not to my knowledge.)




February 7, 2006

Buttercup Tapia

This is Buttercup.


She was one of my two cats, the other one being her brother, Smash.

At around 3am on Monday morning, i came home after the Super Bowl and found Buttercup hiding behind a bookcase. She was disoriented, drooling, dirty, weak, and twitching. I took her to the bath tub to try to clean her up, but it became apparent that there was more going on. So i took her to the emergency vet.

The vet told me that this was most likely related to another incident a few months ago. The symptoms were similar and the prognosis was the same: Buttercup needed surgery. Buttercup had something called a liver shunt. Basically, the shunt kept a sufficient amount of blood from reaching Buttercup's liver. This meant that her liver couldn't process toxins well. These toxins built up and affected her neurological system and various other things about her. The shunt would be fatal in the long run.

Buttercup was going to have to stay at the vet's for about a day, and they were going to try to flush out her system and clear out the toxins. The total cost of this treatment was astronomical. Moreover, it would only be a quick fix: it would only postpone another attack. The only potential cure was surgery and even then, there was no guarantee that Buttercup would lead a normal life.

I came home at around 4:30, tired, sad, worried, and confused. I didn't know what to do. I loved Buttercup, and i didn't want her to die. At the same time, the cost of the surgery was way more than i could afford and more than i could reasonably ask my parents to lend me. And, most importantly, there was no guarantee that Buttercup would be better: she could still suffer and die painfully later.

I consulted with Chrystal, who was here when i got the cats and who named Buttercup. We decided that having Buttercup put down was the best thing to do. I called the vet and told him that that's what i had decided. He kept advocating for her, which is exactly what he should have done, but i knew it was the right decision. I didn't want her to be in pain anymore. The vet asked me if i wanted to be there when Buttercup was put down. I said i didn't.

I talked to Chrystal again, and she convinced me to be there when it happened. I went back to the vet at about 10am on Monday. They asked me if i wanted some time with her before they did it, i said i did. They brought her out, wrapped in a blanket. She was disoriented and shaking constantly. Here eyes were open wide, her pupils dilated. I think she recognized me. They left us alone. i picked he up, held her, petted her. She kept trying to jump onto my shoulders. I could tell, though, that she was in pain. She kept trying to clear herself, but she couldn't keep her balance and she kept falling over. She couldn't seem to understand where the counter ended or how far down the floor was. She was in bad shape.

I called the doctor in. He carried the syringe. In it was an overdose of sedatives that would give Buttercup an easy, painless death. We laid her on her side. I kissed her and stroked her fur as he put the syringe in. "I'm going to start injecting now, ok? Ismael?" "Ok," i said and he pushed the plunger on the syringe. First, nothing happened. Then she went numb. Then she spasmed a little, jerking her head back. I saw her eyes lose . . . something. Then it was over. The doctor used the stethoscope and told me that her heart had stopped beating. He asked me if i wanted some time alone with her body, but i said i didn't. As far as i was concerned, Buttercup wasn't in that room anymore. We shook hands, he reassured me that i had made the right decision, and i left without saying another word.

Buttercup was awesome and beatufiul and loving. She will not be forgotten. Smash and i both miss her a great deal. At first, i wasn't sure if Smash had noticed that anything changed, but it's becoming obvious that he knows she won't be coming back. He just spent some time curled up with me on my desk, which he had never done before.

This is the most personal experience wit