Tuesday, January 31, 2006

Spoke too soon...

In my original blight on the city of Detroit during my Super Bowl rant, I may have spoke too soon. It seems that early Media reviews of the city are positive, and I hope they stay that way contrary to my opinions and experiences with the city.

My original Rant

CNN article

Coretta Scott King (April 27, 1927 – January 30, 2006)

Haiku

Late Winter Sunshine
Bitter Sweet and Bitter Cold
Springtime Has to Wait.

Monday, January 30, 2006

Ladies and Gentlemen, The President of the United States



I'd be hard pressed to say any nominee for President presented to us by our great two party system has impressed me too much in the last few elections. The very nature of politics is a publicity contest where the coolest kid in school gets all the votes and policy is made after the smoke clears. All the promises before then are just pipe dreams. I'd wager that the American people are thinking pretty hard about their vote for the upcoming 2008 Presidential race. Even though we have no real candidates presented to us yet, we need to think about what we want in the Leader of the Free World.

My qualifications are fairly small. I'm not worried about what they do in their private office with the interns or who their big oil big wig friends are. If you can meet my list of priorities, you would be the greatest president in the last 50 years.

My number one request is for a president who will start the process of a complete financial overhaul of our government's operations. We need some spending leaks mended and reams of red tape burned away. If we can start healing the backbone of our broken financial system, I believe many of the other problems will heal themselves.

A few areas in particular that need attention:
  • Broken Tax Code (Why does it have to be such a complicated money pit of a system?)
  • Governmental Red Tape in Procedures. (Why do I have to fill this out in Triplicate, on a Wednesday, after lunch, when their is an overcast weather report, on a night of a full moon, while eating a Twix bar?)
  • Wasteful Government Programs (Why do we need a $2 billion study on the mating habits of the carpenter ant?)
  • Restructuring of Welfare \ Aid \ Financial Aid (Vital Programs where the money isn't always reaching the hands that need it.)
  • FEMA and Other Disaster Related and Charitable Expenses. (It's nice to look out for those who need help, but lets do it as fiscally responsible as possible.)
  • Wasteful Spending on Foreign Nations That Have No Return Benefit To the U.S. (Why do we send money to nations that kill their own citizens or third world countries with no usable marketing or industrial benefit to the United States when our own deficit is climbing at a ridiculous speed as of late.)
You do this and I can just about guarantee that few Americans will question your Presidency, interns or otherwise.

Saturday, January 28, 2006

Justification for Terror

(Note: This was a paper written for my Ethics class in '02, it is written in an argumentative form where both sides of the argument are discussed.)

Terror. The word itself defines what it is and what it creates. Fear, pain, oppression, all examples of concepts that go hand in hand with terror and terrorism. The American Heritage Dictionary defines terrorism as, “The unlawful use or threatened use of force or violence by a person or an organized group against people or property with the intention of intimidating or coercing societies or governments, often for ideological or political reasons” (Par 1). After the attacks on Sept. 11, 2001, public opinion would easily say that terrorism is the very definition of evil and immorality. However, terrorism can also be seen as a tool for oppressed individuals or groups to make change in a world they wouldn’t normally be able to impact. Thus, terrorism is a morally justifiable course of action in times and situations of extreme physical, emotional, and\or political oppression.

To justify terrorism, even in extreme cases, one would take a Utilitarianist stance on the topic. Utilitarianism is defined as being morally obligated, at all times, to perform that action which most likely will lead to the best consequences. Or moreover, the ends will justify the means. Terrorists believe that their backs are against the wall. Most come from small impoverished nations with little to no clout or effect on the world or world events. Furthermore, they are oppressed by western ideals and restrictions, whether it be American military bases in their backyard or NATO \ U.N. imposed governments. For instance, The United States Army Forces Central Command Saudi Arabia has had men deployed and bases set up in Kuwait since the Gulf War over 10 years ago. The people of these countries have no voice in these matters, like a child to a parent. Like that child \ parent relationship, the child will scream to get the attention and change it desires. The only choice they have is the scream of terror. The world gives its attention and change will occur, if only in time.

The direct opposition to this Utilitarian argument would be the traditional philosophical opposition of Formalism. Formalism states that there are certain actions that are immoral in and of themselves. Examples of these actions might be: Murder; Torture; Kidnaping; Thievery; Lying; etc. etc. To understand Formalism, one should just look to the Ten Commandments in the Bible. These are examples of actions that might be concidered inherently wrong, and actions like these are the very tools of terrorism, each one a moral violation according to the Formalist viewpoint. In fact, the idea of terrorism itself might be a violation of a moral Formalist rule, even if you disregard the actions that go with it. Killing is just wrong. Kidnaping is just wrong. Torture is just wrong. Terrorism is just wrong.

Granted that actions like killing, kidnaping, and torture are vile happenings and are usually far from desirable and moral, one could also say that vile actions like these can sometimes be justifiable. If being attacked by someone with a knife, a person with full intentions on ending your life, you don’t fight back, your dead. Imagine you have an opportunity to slice this persons throat with his own knife during the fight. If you believe killing is bad, period, you won’t do it, and your life may be the price for that decision. If you bury that knife deep, you end up alive and well, however. In this extreme case, the ends justify the means and in extreme cases like these, terrorism can be justified as well.

Terrorism has been justified in the past and it was our founding fathers who did it. During the Revolutionary War, the people who fought for our independence did so in a terrible way at times. Guerilla tactics, the slaughter of British families, the destruction of British property, all to send a message to the people of Britain, “Go away, we don’t want you here.” This is the same message used by middle eastern terrorists, by the IRA nationals, and many other oppressed groups. The difference is, when we did it, it was heroic.

Opposing this, it could be said that just because something occurred in the past, doesn’t mean it was morally justified. Moreover, it could be argued that many nations and people, including people living in the states at the time of the Revolutionary War, declared these acts as abominable regardless on how it all turned out in the end. The acts are still wrong today, just as they were then. Wrong is wrong.

In response, it could be argued that only the best of consequences occurred from the events of the Revolutionary War and it is these consequences that outweigh the means of accomplishing them. George Washington was a national hero, not an evil man, but when your back is against the wall, even the best of men resort to the worst of actions, and in this case, it was justifiable.

When looking to the past, one can grow a keen eye for similarities to current events. This can help in understanding these events and how they relate to events of today. Lets look at two examples from American History. Slavery was legal in the United States until the end of the Civil War in 1864. Our great nation, a nation of freedom, allowed human beings to be kept as slaves for almost 100 years, and slavery was in North America long before we even became a nation. Generations of black men and women were kept oppressed, kept ignorant, and kept obedient through measures of terror. Violence, threats, torture, these were common tools of many white slave masters. The very definition of terrorism. Now lets look at a specific event. In August of 1831, a slave by the name of Nat Turner led a group of about 40 black slaves on a killing spree. Over 50 white men, women and children were killed that day, shot, stabbed, or clubbed to death. Terror ensued. Soon, slave masters everywhere had the smell of fear in them, fear that the blacks would revolt again to change the way things were, terrorism defined again (Nat Turner, par 6). At the time of the rebellion, slavery was considered legal and moral to boot. At the time of the rebellion, Nat turner, his posse, and many other slaves considered the slaughter morally justified. If these two positions are justified on some level, both terroristic ideals, and opposed, then someone has to be wrong. That also means that in this extreme case, someone has to be right, which logically justifies the use of terrorism at that time, regardless of what side you take.

In contrast, it could be argued that neither side was truly justified in their actions. They were both wrong. Slavery, if nothing else, is evil in itself, the terroristic activities used, even more so. Nat Turner, too, was evil in his ways. Murder is never justifiable, especially innocent women and children. Two wrongs don’t make a right.

Few would argue that two wrongs make a right, and slavery is wrong, but some might take the logic another step and argue that fighting for freedom is far more important. Freedom and liberty are the foundation of the human spirit and when everything is at stake, many would fight to the death to obtain it or fight to the death to defend it. It could be argued that Nat Turner and his men had nothing to lose and only freedom to gain. If that isn’t moral, not much is.

Finally, in arguing the fact that there are cases, extreme as they may be, where terrorism can be justified, I would argue against the opposition to further strengthen this idea. The opposition would say that terrorism could never be morally justified, ever. The opposition would just say that it is inherently wrong in itself. This , I would say, is an impossibility. Never is defined as never in the past, never today, and never in the future. Never means, not one exception. I would say that would be hard to swallow. Several cases of justifiable terrorism have already been mentioned from Americas past, and no one can tell us what the future holds. Even if you discount every example previously stated, using the word never is a bold statement when looking to the future and would logically not hold water in the test of time.

Never is not such a bold expression when looked at from a Formalist viewpoint. Many would agree that Murder is never justifiable. Lying is never appropriate. Rape is never moral. It’s not such a stretch to say that terrorism is never justified.

In reply to this viewpoint though, one could once again look to those extreme cases where your life is on the line, even killing another human being can be seen ok, certainly lying to save a life can be justified. When looking to the future, one cannot know what extreme circumstances will occur. There is even an expression for it, “Never say never.”

Arguments aside, there is one major opposition to the position I take in this paper which needs to be addressed. Terrorism just doesn’t work. When Al-Qaeda terrorists hijacked the jets on Sept. 11th of 2001 and crashed them into the World Trade Center towers, into the Pentagon, and the attempted last target, they failed their mission in the end. The people of the United States strengthened in ways we haven’t seen since WWII. The United States declared war in Afghanistan, basically destroying the foundations of the Al-Qaeda organization. In fact, by bombing, and attacking the U.S., they have only caused us as a nation to seek out and destroy terrorists and their supporters, effectively making it harder for terrorists to stay in business. Terrorism never works so its absurd to even consider.

The American Heritage Dictionary defines success as “the achievement of something desired, planned, or attempted” (par1). It’s impossible to know the long term goals of Bin Laden, what exactly he had planned, or what he still has planned, but at least on one level, the Al-Qaeda did succeed. Terror sprang in the hearts of every American around the globe on Sept 11, 2001. To this day, many Americans are afraid to fly. Many are worried about when terror will strike next. But moreover, the Al-Qaeda have succeeded in drawing attention to their cause. Before 9-11, many Americans didn’t know the name of Osama Bin-Laden, fewer still knew of the Al-Qaeda and their mission. Now both are a household name. Video tapes of Osama’s views and opinions have gained worldwide air play. Many Americans want a drastic change in foreign policy, wanting to just leave everyone to themselves and get the U.S. out of other’s business. Call it ignorance. Call it fear. Regardless of what you call it, it’s the desired effect the terrorists wanted. It worked. When you look to the future, after Bush is done chasing terrorists, things will settle down and it will renew again. It’s a cycle that will not end till either all terrorists are dead or they get what they want. Terrorism works, at least in the short term. It’s still too soon to tell the long term impacts.

I find it necessary to say that the attacks on the United States on Set. 11, 2001 were a tragedy of epic proportions. Innocent people died for a cause most don’t know of, understand, or for that matter even care about. I certainly don’t get it. I would also agree that these specific acts of terrorism were evil and immoral and it goes without saying that I am distancing myself from this behavior on a personal level. With that said, it could be argued that these are examples of those extreme cases of torment, oppression, physical or emotional pain, discussed in this paper, where acts of terrorism could lead to change and in doing so could be morally justified. I believe that change is the key. Never could you justify evil except when it leads to a change for the better. Even then, you’d have a hard case to prove.

Works Cited
“The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language.” (2000): n. pag. Online. Internet. 25 Oct. 2002. Available: http://www.dictionary.com/search?q=terrorism.

“Nat Turner’s Rebellion.” 3p. Online. Internet. 25 Oct. 2002. Available: http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/aia/part3/3p1518.html.

Thursday, January 26, 2006

Welcome

I'd like to welcome any visitors who found my site via mixeye.com. I hope you enjoy your stay.

Tuesday, January 24, 2006

The Absurdity in Intelligent Design


There is a small movement garnering attention in many parts of the country. It seems several regionally conservative school districts across the U.S. are introducing a new scientific principle into their curriculum called Intelligent Design. For those not following this trend, Intelligent Design is defined as the concept that "certain features of the universe and of living things are best explained by an intelligent cause, not an undirected process such as natural selection."[Link] Leading proponents, of whom all are affiliated with the Discovery Institute, say that intelligent design is a scientific theory that stands on equal footing with, or is superior to, current scientific theories regarding the origin of life.[Link] Simply defined; our universe is so complicated that it can only be explained that a being, not of earth, created the seeds of life that became civilization as we know it. Some call him God. The problem in teaching about a "Creator" in public schools has several issues.

Problem One is that there are general rules separating church and state. "In the United States, separation of church and state is governed by the Establishment Clause of the First Amendment to the U.S. Constitution and by legal precedents, some quite controversial, interpreting that clause...Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion."[Link] So, In a public school setting, one established by our government, you cannot add elements of religion. Proponents of Intelligent Design rebut this argument, stating that they are not fostering a religious point of view but a scientific theory, not unlike the Theory of Evolution, coined by Darwin, which is taught in public schools today.

This leads us to Problem Two, the flawed logic of Intelligent Design as a science. One opposing point to the Science argument of Intelligent Design is that it makes claims as fact by pointing out that science cannot prove it otherwise. For instance, scientists can only theorize about the complexities of the human body and these theories revolve around evolution and general hypothesizing, much cannot be proven exactly but follows true from scientific analysis. These are facts that may often be proven true as technology increases so that these theories can be tested further. Maybe one of these theories will be accepted as true, like Einstein's theory on relativity and the Origin of the Species. Intelligent Design proponents would argue that because we cannot prove these things, then they must of been created by something much greater than us. They corroborate this argument through the creation of the cosmos as well. So instead of using a scientific method, they use the argument that it couldn't of been anything else.

This brings us to Problem Three, the fallacy on the generality of Intelligent Design. If we assume that Intelligent Design is a valid option, we believe that some thing or several things, greater than us, not of Earth, placed in motion a series of events that created the universe and civilization as we know it today. Christians would name this being God, but the Christian God is far more defined. The generality of Intelligent Design allows room for us to believe in the absurd as well. Bobby Henderson made this exact connection in his OPEN LETTER TO KANSAS SCHOOL BOARD last year. He commended the school board on their openness to discussion on Intelligent Design but he wished for all aspects of it to be discussed including the Pastafarian faith in the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster. Henderson believes that instead of this unknown being, it was a giant spaghetti monster whose noodly appendage created all that we see in the universe. Strangely, his Church beliefs fall into the realm of Intelligent Design, thus destroying its credibility on its own absurdity.

I am not against the Intelligent Design argument. To be honest, when you look at the Universe, it's hard not to believe that something had a hand in it, but as they cannot prove that the universe was created by design, so can we not prove it wasn't. However, to allow Intelligent Design taught as a science, is as absurd as the Flying Spaghetti Monster. This is a philosophical argument on God, also called the Teleological Argument. As important as Philosophy is, it is not science. It is a logical process in which we question and question again. You examine and try to foster understanding through these questions, but to teach it as fact is absurd. Philosophical topics are never proven or disproven, only questioned anew.

Monday, January 23, 2006

The First and Last Superbowl in Detroit


While the Game itself promises to be excellent, to be honest, I'm surprised that the NFL agreed to hold a Superbowl in Detroit altogether. Detroit has a fast talking Mayor and I'm sure the committee from Detroit really sold it. They were blinded by the supposed advancement in the downtown area, but rest assured, the media will be all over Detroit in the next couple weeks.

Just a couple blocks away from Ford Field and you will notice slums and burnt down buildings as well as condemned structures and other eye sores. The cold weather, issues with parking and hotel availability will all be gripes in the media. The three downtown casinos promised to have permanent hotels\casinos in place by now instead of the temporary casinos they are still using. Partly because they are lazy (or greedy) and party due to our Governor raising Casino's taxes, these Hotel resorts were never completed.

And what is there to do in Detroit? It's not like this time of year allows for boating and fishing in the Great lakes. Did I mention it was cold? Yay for the Superbowl but shame on the City of Detroit for not following through on it's promise to the NFL. Detroit will never have an opportunity like this again.

This is also mentioned on the Sports Illustrated website as a point of media attention in the coming weeks

Saturday, January 21, 2006

Company Policy

The mans slow walk down the center aisle of the store gave him the opportunity to glance at all the new seasonal merchandise the drug store was peddling. His objective, of course, was not to stand gawking at the useless crap, as others always seem to do. His business was just up ahead with the cashier at the photo development counter.
“Welcome to Arvco, How can I help you on this very fine morning,” the clerk’s overwhelming enthusiasm was a little overbearing and somewhat annoying.
The man simply said, “I got film to drop off.”
The clerk’s reply seemed scripted. In fact the clerk himself seems scripted for whatever that means. “Would you like our thirty minute development service or shall I ‘port it to our lab for next day service?”
“What’s the price difference”, he asked?
“Well...” the clerk, with the name tag proclaiming him to be some sort of technical coordinator, named Rod, took a deep breath. “...If we send your film to the lab, it’s gonna cost you approximately $39.95, where...”
“$39.95?” the customer interrupted.
“Yes sir, $$39.95,” he replied.
“Go on.”
The clerk continued, “If you ‘port your film to the lab, you are entitled to double prints or you can get a single set of prints with a free cube of film for the same price.”
“Now that free film, it’s not that Arvco crap is it?” retorts the customer.
“Sir, I’ll have you know that Arvco film is manufactures by 5M, the same great people who created hover soap, particle scrap, and Irish adhesive strips. Also, as proven in international tests, Arvco film received the same high quality awards as the top selling Krodak products. So, because of this high quality recognition that Arvco film has acquired, you’ll be receiving a free cube of Fiji film.”
“Figures,” another retort.
The clerk continued, “or you can get the thirty minute service, which for single prints only costs you $49.95. However you don’t receive the free cube of film.”
“...”

“And if you choose double prints, it will only cost you an additional $15.00 over our single prints price,” finished the clerk.
The customer wipes his hand through his hair and says, “let me get this straight. I have to pay and additional $25.00 to have doubles done today.”
“Yes.”
“Send them out.”
“Yes Sir, I’ll just need some general information about yourself.”
“...”
“Can I get your vox number?”
“Why in God’s name do you need my vox number, I just want to drop off film.”
The clerk put on a stern but friendly face and said, Sir, we need the information for two very important reasons. First, we want to make sure your film doesn’t get lost or inadvertently disintegrated. Second, we have to be able to contact you should a problem occur with your film. Your vox number please?”
“Jesus Christ, 872-923-21721.”
“Your last name sir?”
“MacMire.”
“First?”
“Gerald.”
“Your locale number and index code?”
“4893173 Gracken index, Boxel 2.”
“Paper vox code?”
“72534.”
“Married?”
“Now why in the Hell does it matter if I’m married?”
The clerk stopped the typing on the computer to turn and stare at the customer. He then says, “Mr. MacMire, as I stated before, this is merely a organizational method, a safety precaution if you will, as well as Arvco policy. Now, this won’t take very much more of your time.”
“...”

“Married?”
“NO!”
“Any kids?”
“NO!”
“Are you just coming from work?”
“WHAT?”
“You just get off work? I’m just curious. I’m not typing that in or anything. Just curious, you know, small talk.”
“Oh. No, I had the day off.”
“How often do you take pictures Sir?”
“About twice a month.”
“Then where do you normally take them for processing?”
“Rite Grants. Why?”
“As I stated before, this is a ...”
“Never mind!”
The clerk pressed a few buttons then asked, “singles or doubles?”
“Doubles.”
“Matte, glossy, holo, or digital finish?”
“Holo.”
“Would you like to purchase a guarantee service agreement?”
“And what is that?”
“By purchasing a guaranteed service agreement, you are being guaranteed that your cube of film will not become lost, mutilated, or destroyed, through a fault of the drugstores or the lab, you’ll be reimburse for its lost with a credit voucher that can be used in any Arvco drugstore.”
“No, no, just send it out.” The clerk taps a few more keys that placed the cube inside a tamper proof photo envelope and places the envelope into the trash disintegrator and goes for the switch.
“Hey, wait, what are you doing?”

“Sir, your film has been slated to be lost.”
“WHAT!”
“Your film has been slated...”
“No, I heard you, but what are you talking about?”
“Let me try to explain.” The clerk eased his hands away from the keyboard, smiled, and began, “Arvco drugs has an extensive customer service policy and we are dedicated to every word of that policy. Some two years ago, there was a law suit filed against Arvco by a photo customer in regard to a bag of film that was lost by out lab. Because of that law suit, great studies were made and polls were taken to find out how people felt about customer service and photo service in particular. The studies have shown that one in every 637 bags of film becomes lost, mutilated, or destroyed. Through the polls we’ve taken, Arvco has become enlightened to the fact that most customers want a reliable and consistent environment in which to do business with. So, taking both of those into account, Arvco has made a promise of “NO MORE, NO LESS” to all of our customers. Arvco knows that no one is perfect and accidents happen. There isn’t much Arvco could do to change that. Arvco can, however, control the consistency. As a result, we make sure we keep the average. Incidently, your film was number 637. The computer has slated it to be lost.” The customer stood dumbfounded just blinking at the clerk. “Understand now,” the clerk finished.
“Just give me my film back.”
“I can’t do that sir.”
“AND WHY THE HELL NOT,” screamed the customer?
“Because you didn’t purchase the guaranteed service agreement, which by the way was another result of the law suit with THAT disgruntled photo customer.”
“Are you implying something clerk boy.”
“No sir, I was just trying to ...”
“Let me talk to a manager.” The customer just stood there with a grim look on his mug while the clerk called a manager over the intercom. The clerk maintained that irritating smile the whole time. After a few moments a young lady in her mid twenties walked up to the customer.
“Hi, my name is Katherine, how may I help you,” she said.
“This idiot of a photo clerk of yours is gonna burn up my film.” the customer explains.
“Sir, Arvco has an extensive customer service policy that states ...”
“I just heard it all from Numb nuts” he interrupted. The clerk stood silently behind the counter.
“Then you can understand the sensitivity of the situation,” she stated with a slight attitude.
“Look, whatever happened to the customer always being right, eh.”
“Oh that policy was abolished in the early teens,” she replied.
“That was meant to be rhetorical. I just want my film back,” he pleaded.
“Sir, if I may be so blunt, shut up.”
“What?”
“I said SHUT UP,” she reiterated. “I hear it from customers like you every hour of every day. And frankly I’m sick of it. You people always want something for nothing, something for free. Just yesterday, this old lady comes into the pharmacy bitchin’ and moanin’ about her cocain prescription. She says we forgot to include the mirror and razor blades. She claims that every time she renews her prescription they give her free blades and a mirror. I’ll have you know that Arvco stopped giving out mirrors and razor blades years ago. It got too expensive and the insurance companies stopped paying for ‘em. I tried to tell her about Arvco’s policy on the topic, but NO, she just...”
“Ma’am.”
“DON’T INTERRUPT ME!”
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay. Anyway she just interrupts me with her complaining, and I really hate that.”
“Did you give her the stuff?” he asked.
“Hell no, I made the old bag pay for them, and then I kicked her out.”
“But I don’t want anything for free. I just want my film back.”

“Look, we all got problems. Look at me, I’m an assistant manager at an Arvco drugstore. How do you think I feel? I mean, if Arvco paid anything, it might be okay, but I’m barely getting by. Do you think I could get a set schedule? Hell no, not with my boss. He’d keep me from ever leaving if he could. Without a set schedule, I’ll never get back into school, I’ll never get a real job, and I’ll probably be working here for the rest of my life, which won’t be long at this rate. Christ, I work so many damn hours. I can’t even get a boyfriend. God only knows the last time I…”
“Really?”
“I said don’t interrupt me.”
“Sorry.”
“Anyway, we all got problems, Arvco just seems to be one of them for both of us.”
Pleading, the customer says, “Can I please have my film back?”
“ Okay, okay, you can have your film back. You just have to fill out and purchase a guaranteed service agreement.” Relieved, he nodded and she went about her business. His attention was faltered for a moment, and then he returned to the photo counter.
“Look Rod,” the customer said to the photo clerk. “Your boss said I can get my film back if I purchase your service thingee.”
“Guaranteed service agreement?”
“Yes,” angrily said.
“Then I’ll need some information.”
“Why can’t you take it from the stuff I gave you before?” said even more angrily.
“Our system connector unit is down and we have to manually enter the data.”
The man stood motionless.
“Your vox number sir?”
“872-923-21721, my name is Gerald MacMire. I live at 4893173 Gracken index, Boxel 2. My paper vox code is 72534. No wife, No kids.”
“Sir, I just needed your name.”
Once again he stood motionless.
The clerk pressed a few buttons on his computer keyboard and said, “that will be $39.95.”

“That’s how much it costs to get them developed in the first place,” screamed the customer. “ I can’t believe what you morons are trying to pull here. First you’re gonna blow up my film then your gonna charge me not to blow them up.”
“Arvco policy states that...”
“To hell with Arvco policy. Arvco policy makers can kiss my behind.”
“Sir, there’s no reason to get excited.”
“Listen photo boy, there’s nothing exciting about listening to you talk. There’s nothing exciting about this photo counter. And there’s nothing exciting about Arvco. In fact, the only exciting thing I’ve seen today is your assistant manager, and she’s a stuck up .... Look, here’s your money. Just give me my film back. I’m going to Rite Grants.”
“Sir, if I may, Rite Grants slates every 621st cube of film to be lost.” The customer grabbed his film and stormed out of the store.
“Have a nice day sir.” Soon after the customer left, Katherine returned to the photo counter. “I tried making small talk with him to keep him calm,” he said when she reached the counter.
“I know Rodney. I tried relating my own troubles with his. Most people just don’t listen,” Katherine replied. “Next time, try not to let the customer see you dump their film in the disintegrator. It’ll save us some trouble.”
“You’re the boss.” The clerk once again smiled. He looked to the next customer in line and said, “Welcome to Arvco. How can I help you on this very fine afternoon.”

Friday, January 20, 2006

Why The Trees Cry


In the Spring, the greatest of trees and the youngest as well, sprout green and thank what God they have that they survived one more year of Winter. Some trees grow tall and proud, others short and round. Some have leaves of green others have cones, but all bask in the nourishing springtime sun. Times are good.

Woe to be a tree, however, as every spring they offer unto the world, their seeds of life, tens of thousands of seeds wishing for life. This is what makes the trees sad. Just as they are glorious to send their children into the world, so are they mortified that most shall die. The trees toss their young to the wind, hoping that they are fortunate enough to survive the hardships of the modern world, hoping that they find greener pastures in which to start life.

They smile and then they cry. They smile at the strength of these young sprouts of life yet cry as they know what hardships shall befall them. The Great Oak watches tall. The maple smiles a sweet smile. The weeping willow.....she always cries. They stand back and watch as the world has its cruel hands withering their young, powerless to help, yet ever watchful, and suffering. Many die right off, never taking a handhold on life, never tasting all that life can offer. Some take life and begin to grow only to be destroyed by our modern world in the name of advancement and industry. Some are eaten as food by the animals that inhabit our world. Some live. The few take life and in turn will one day grow old and wise enough to make life and to shed those same tears of their father’s, tears of their own.

These trees are all the people of the world, the mothers and fathers. The trees are the nations of the world. Some are like the Great Oak, and some are like the Willow. In times like these, we send our seeds out into the world in order to take a handhold on what life should be like, what freedom really means. Many nations are trees, just happy to see another spring. Many are like the willow and cry all the time, constantly wounded by the harshness of life. Some are tall and proud, some...are sticky. But in this world, we are all trees and we send our seeds out to fight in this world. Many die right off, some take life and are destroyed. Some are eaten by the animals of the world, and the few will grow to see what life really is. And they will cry.

Wednesday, January 18, 2006

Ravings of the Eccentric

Let there be a call to arms. Be at alarm and be forewarned, for there is an evil of an unbeknownst proportion before us. Let us not be deceived on the grounds of it’s seemingly widespread presence, because commonality means not acceptance. And be not fooled for there are detailed accounts that lend verisimilitude to the story I tell. Though saying that, as I have said, my plight is far from over, far from won. Mine own enemy has all but infiltrated every home and place of eat. It surrounds me at every look. It balks me at every turn. And what is it that places shadows on my soul? What is it that tarnishes my very existence? What is it that so corrupts my past that I have eaten from it’s very evil? What is this forbidden fruit of which I preach? It is the pickle I say. The pickle is the food of the devil. The pickle is evil in the raw form of the word.

I beseech you all to not only throw away that evilist of consumables, but to be rid of its temptation forever. I beg you to listen, for your very soul may be at stake in this war against evil. Go to your iceboxes. Go to your refrigerators. Obtain the evil pickles from their place of rest, but be mindful not to even palpate the vessel in which the evil resides else you’ll be turned away from the good and be tempted to partake of the serpents fruit. You would be advised to use tongs. Once the evil is in your possession, you must say prayers to the all mighty and beg for forgiveness as I have done, for the next step in exorcizing yourself of this evil is contemptuous in itself. You must place the vessel of wanton evil desires into a box. You must then seal the package and deliver it away.

But to who? Who has the strength of will to fight that which is the devil’s own. Who can face the sheer terror of the most vile of the vile? In who can we trust with our inner thoughts and our deepest passions? Who will stand by us in our time of need. No priest or pastor has the strength. No reverend or monk is so attuned to good. No good sister or holy father can overcome its evil. When the pickle is within your grasp, send it to Grandma. It is Grandma and Grandma alone who shall defend our world from the forces compiling against us in the form of the devil’s fruit.

Tuesday, January 17, 2006

When I grow up...

As a child in elementary school, I always wanted to be an Astronaut, then the Challenger exploded in 1986 when I was in 5th grade. That was the same year that Hailey's Comet came by the earth on it's 76 year trip around the sun. I most likely wont be alive to see it when it comes around again, but these events certainly effected my outlook in life. Regardless of whether or not I'd ever see the stars in person, my eyes were always looking to the sky and I dreamed of space through motion picture filters. I dreamed of traveling to far off worlds, five year missions, seeking out life, boldly going, etc etc. One of my first writing assignments in 6th grade was to write a short story or poem. At the time, I thought poetry was stupid girl stuff and went for the sci-fi epic. Twelve pages later, I turned in my first masterpiece. Did I mention that I failed that assignment...miserably?

As I grew older, I realized that I had a knack for school. I absorbed everything like a sea sponge. I won contests in writing, math and geography, received an honorable mention in the science fair, and kept straight A's for the most part through school. My only fault was spelling, which I am thankful technology fixed with the all-mighty spell checker. It was then, that I first had the idea to become a teacher. I didn't have any specific ideas about what I would teach though. I originally thought mathematics would be my strong point but Calc III changes that idea quickly. In high school, all of my friends were going into Engineering programs in college, and this was before the boom of computers. My computer class in high school was on an Apple IIc. With the guidance of piers and teachers, I also thought engineering was a good idea. Once again, Calc III, the destroyer of many of my plans, rears it's ugly head.

Fast forward a few years (We're gonna pass up all the sad story stuff about a bad childhood, dropping out of college, living in stranger's basements, and committing felonious acts) and here we are. I'm certainly not where I wanted to be, but it's not like my life is over yet. I now have two beautiful daughters to raise and with my wife and I guiding them. They are sure to be everything that I wasn't. My new aspirations revolve around writing. Maybe something will come of it. Maybe I'll write that Sci-Fi epic. Maybe not. We'll find out when I grow up.

Don't Waste a Day. Learn Something.

I can't stress enough how important it is to constantly educate yourself. I know many people get into a job and a way of life and never advance their self intellectually. I was there. So I'm trying to combat that with the little self-helps on the internet.

I highly recommend everyone should sign up for A Word A Day. Every day you are emailed a new word, its definition, history and how to use it in a sentence. Surprisingly, you find yourself using new words in conversation and in emails. If you have a spare second or two, you might want to check out a Random Wikipedia Article, Today I learned about Peter Svidler, the Chess player.

If you need some guidance on a subject or just need to talk to like minded people, I might suggest a Yahoo Group. Here you can find individual groups of like minded, or like hobbied people that you can gain ideas from or through ideas around on. Subjects range from coping with miscarriage to teen mothers to painting Christmas miniatures. Check it out.

Monday, January 16, 2006

Sensing, Respectfully

This is a little poem that I had printed in a school writing publication a few years ago. I thought it fit the mood as of late.

Sensing, Respectfully

Sitting, Waiting, Wanting, Watching

in the dark

in the dark

nothing

nothing

Sitting, Waiting, Wanting, Watching

in a crib

for mama

food

the spinning mobile

Sitting, Waiting, Wanting, Watching

no where

impatiently

toys

everything

Sitting, Waiting, Wanting, Watching

in the back seat

for daddy

freedom

the pretty cars

Sitting, Waiting, Wanting, Watching

in school

that damn clock

the little red haired girl

the little red haired girl

Sitting, Waiting, Wanting, Watching

in my home

for the bill

stability

my Ass

Sitting, Waiting, Wanting, Watching

in an office

for results

choices

that damn clock

Sitting, Waiting, Wanting, Watching

on a bench

patiently

a bologna sandwich

the birds

Sitting, Waiting, Wanting, Watching

in a bed

for death

peace

nothing

Sitting, Waiting, Wanting, Watching

in a box

in a box

nothing

nothing

Sitting, Waiting, Wanting, Watching

nothing

nothing

nothing

nothing‑‑‑‑light

In The Eyes Of The Dying.

I'd like to think that in our last moments of life that we experience a sort of reverie where we can look back at our lives and enjoy a moment of pride on what we accomplished. We can put all of our mistakes in retrospect so that we can die with some sort of dignity. I imagine a dream-like state, but with an internal clarity where every moment in life can be pulled to the forefront of our thoughts, even those repressed or forgotten. A pipe dream, I'm sure.

If you've never stared into the eyes of someone who is dying, I highly recommend it. Not in some morbid or sadistic way, but as a learning experience. To experience that is a lesson in mortality. I'm sad to say that I've been able to do it twice. Most recently, I lost my Father.

On the morning of December 21st of last year, I brought my wife and newborn daughter Natalie home from the hospital. Within a couple hours, my father had a stroke. Eleven days later, he was dead. My father wasn't a healthy man. In fact, he'd tell you that he should of been dead long before. The man had cancer twice, and life threatening surgeries on multiple occasions. He was a chronic smoker, an Alcoholic and heavy drinker until his last few years. He had kidney failure, emphysema, and congestive heart failure. Despite all this, he still drove his car and was a miserable, grumpy old man. He wouldn't have it any other way, but in those 11 days in the hospital, I saw a changed man.

I stopped by to see him just about every day, but I'd rarely stay very long. You see, even when he was well, he wasn't the type to hold a long conversation or make pleasantries, less so when he was in the hospital recovering. It was much worse when the stroke robbed him of his ability to speak at all beyond a grumbly mumble. In the first few days after the stroke, he understood his situation and at that point he had the possibility for some sort of recovery. I showed him pictures of his new grand-daughter and he acknowledged me with a nod or the wave of his knee, which he kept pulled up to his chest. God knows why.

He got worse as the next few days went on and it took everything in me to visit him daily. The doctors said he had a continuation of his original stroke and then had a subsequent stroke. His external mumblings and ability to respond were becoming less understandable. It became increasingly more difficult to offer my dad words of encouragement on recovery when I doubted a recovery was possible. It was on one of those days that I sat in the chair across from his bed and stared into his eyes. His eyes were wide open looking at me...through me. He wasn't there. Alive, but somewhere else.

I was 14 years old the first time I saw that look. About a year before her death, my Mother was diagnosed with cancer. It was too far advanced for surgery and was treated with chemotherapy and radiation. I literally saw my mother deteriorate in that years time, but as a child, you don't realize and understand the scope of what death is about. Christmas Day, 1990, my mother fell ill after a long day with family. My father rushed her to the hospital. I didn't see my mother for over two weeks, until the day she came home to die. She took a nap in her chair and never really came back into full consciousness. I sat there in the chair opposite hers and stared at her for hours. She kept her eye's open like she was watching children play in the park, with a blank expression on her face. She raised her eyebrow once to let me know she was still there. She died that night. January 14th, 1991. I still cry to this day.

I guess I should find some solstice in it all. Some people never get the chance to say goodbye to their loved ones. I hope in your last few moments, you both had pleasant dreams. I love you Mom & Dad.

Sunday, January 15, 2006

In Memorium

It's been two weeks since my Father Passed away, and fifteen years as of yesturday since my Mother died as well. More on this later...

Saturday, January 14, 2006

WHAT?

Here's something that frustrates me. When I say "What" or "Say again", in conversation, it means I didn't hear what you said. It does not mean I just missed the last few words so only repeat those.

Example:

Co worker says, "Have you heard the name Ali?"

I hear her say, "Blah blah blah blah Blah blah blah blah "

I say, "What?"

Co worker says, "the name Ali"

I say, "What?"

Co worker says, "the name Ali"

I say, "What about it?"

Co worker says, "Have you ever heard the name Ali?"

This happens to me all the time. Had she just repeated that sentence in the first place, we could of avoided some mild frustration.

Here's one my wife does, that's even worse:

Wife says, "Me and my sister are going to the mall to look around"

I hear, "Blah blah blah", and say "Say again?"

She then says, "the Mall"

I then have two choices to resolve this conversation.

Choice 1) I can say "What?" again, knowing that she will be furious to have to repeat herself again, even though its her own fault.

Choice 2) Guess what she is talking about, which puts me at a 33% success rate, and say, "Sure when are we leaving?" Which is the wrong answer and frustration ensues.

You may say, "Are you deaf or do you not pay attention?" This is a typical woman response, because as we all know, men are supposed to be alert and at attention at all times awaiting for the exact moment for women to speak so that we can answer, "Yes Dear." As a matter of fact, 90% of these instances result while I'm in the middle of something that is holding my attention, like watching TV, washing dishes or sitting in a four cornered room staring at candles.

The other 10% fall in this example:

Wife says, "I'm going to the store to get Milk and butter"
I here, "Blah blah blah" and say, "What?"

My wife repeats it one of two ways,
1) She will repeat the same line at the same volume or mumble it the same way (when common sense says to speak up a bit)

2) She will repeat it again while looking away or while she is walking out the door, and as we all know, distance and vector effect volume as well.

Both options result in a second, "Say What?" Maybe I'm weird, but when someone doesn't understand me, I give them eye contact, speak up, and repeat myself slowly and clearly (but not so slowly that you come off sounding like a jerk or smart ass). Many times in the argument that might follow, I will say something like, "I'd hear you if you'd talk to me and not the wall."

Typical man issue, you say?. This is true. Two woman can both speak, at the same time, about two different topics, and both will understand and reply in unison about the other's topic. All of this occurring while chewing gum, walking, and window shopping or going in packs to the ladies room to do what ever it is women do in there. This is because women are Aliens.

It's not just my wife, its a lot of women. I only use her as an example because she is the woman I am around the most. I love you sweetheart. :)

Friday, January 13, 2006

Out of Bounds: Pistons' Manhandling Of Spurs Seals Everyone Else's Fate

Greg from Out of Bounds makes a bold prediction about the Pistons dominance in the NBA this year.

Plan the parade, make sure Woodward Avenue is cleaned up after the Super Bowl, book Hart Plaza, make sure the big video screens are working for that day. Clear the mayor's schedule, find a XXXXXL jersey for him to wear, and be sure Mason has plenty of throat lozenges. First there will be those annoying two months of playoffs, preliminaries to the inevitable. Maybe there will be a loss or two along the way, just to keep the players' edge, but not enough to create any hand-wringing in Motown.

The Pistons will win the NBA title in June.



While It's premature to say they are going to win it all, I'll add a "Barring serious injury" asterisk to your post. I believe the west is still the strength of the NBA right now, so a quality team will emerge in the finals to face the Pistons. Although I'm confidant that the Pistons can pull it out, I'm not so oblivious to make predictions this early...else id hit Vegas now.

Friday The Thirteenth



So someone points out today is Friday the 13th. Big deal. Ever the curious one that I am, I decide to go to my favorite resource on the web, Wikipedia, to find out the origins of this most unholy of days.

The origin of the Friday the 13th superstition has been linked to the belief that there were 13 people at The Last Supper of Jesus, who was crucified on Good Friday, but it probably originated in medieval times. It has also been linked to the fact that a lunisolar calendar must have 13 months in some years, while the solar Gregorian calendar and lunar Islamic calendar always have 12 months in a year. Another suggestion is that the belief originated in a Norse myth about twelve gods having a feast in Valhalla. The mischievous Loki gate-crashed the party as an uninvited 13th guest and arranged for Hod, the blind god of darkness, to throw a branch of mistletoe at Balder, the god of joy and gladness. Balder was killed instantly and the Earth was plunged into darkness and mourning as a result. Both the first and last xplanations, however, seem more relevant to the superstition linked to having 13 people at the same table during a meal.

I guess you learn something every day. Friday the 13th part 7 was the best by the way.

Pleasantly Exasperated

This picture was taken on 12/20/05, the day after, Natalie, my second daughters birth. My wife Susan was about as beat up as you can be after 2 days of contractions, but content none the less. My first daughter, Rebecca, is just happy to be in a picture.

I teased my wife during the pregnancy quite a bit, saying that our first daughters birth wasn't too bad, I was just a little tired. No big deal at all. Needless to say, the joke got a little old when it came time to deliver.

So 3-1/2 weeks later, things are starting to settle down. Rebecca's adjusted to having a baby in the house, and my wife has adjusted her sleeping pattern to account for little Natalie's fussiness, which isn't too bad, all things considered. My first daughter has been sleeping through the night as of about 5 weeks old. We're hoping Daughter #2 follows the same pattern. Crossin' our fingers.

Thursday, January 12, 2006

Welcome to the Mind of Mike

I aim to use this blog as a forum to let the thoughts in my mind leak out into cyberspace. It's more of an excuse to finally start writing. Have to get everything setup first though.

Thanks for stopping by