The Rough Drafts Writing Blog

If Washington D.C. were a country, children in bad 80s movies everywhere would spend time memorizing its exports and principle industries. Its economic mainstay would of course be bullshit. The exporting of bullshit. The manufacture of bullshit. The preparation and spoon-feeding of bullshit. Should it get any worse, I’ll have to add windshield wipers to my television screen to periodically scrape it clean. Who’s more patriotic? Who wears what pin while attending which church? Whose dick is bigger? Perhaps the answers to some of these questions actually matter; it is possible. It does matter that the only way that anyone will get the truth on any of these questions is to turn off the goddamn TV and think about it for a second. Balance out all of the things that you heard and draw an opinion.

So let’s talk about this McCain/Wesley Clark bullshit. Wesley Clark, excuse me, GENERAL Wesley Clark was on Face The Nation a few days ago. He had the nerve (according to Republicans and the media) to question one of the lines that McCain and his supporters have trumpeted into FACT over the last eighteen months or so. Namely, that McCain’s military service AUTOMATICALLY qualifies him to be the President of the United States. He didn’t say that it disqualified him. He didn’t say that it didn’t matter. He didn’t say that this nation wasn’t grateful for his distinguished service. He didn’t say that we’d be better off with a draft-dodging, pot-smoking, hippie. Not a single one of these things were said though you’d think he did if you didn’t see the original clip.

Admittedly, there were more thought-out, articulate, and calculated ways that Clark could have said this, but it’s clear to anyone who sees it that, though he fumfered a bit like a ‘tard, he was trying to raise an important point. John McCain is not inherently more qualified than Obama to be president because he spent some time in a tiger cage being tortured. Does it add to his qualifications? Certainly it does. You can see through this experience, and his reactions to it, that he’s a genuine American hero with strong character and convictions.

Could you also argue that his time in a tiger cage is a negative? I think that you could. You could say that his temper and his tendency to fly off the handle were influenced by his time as a POW. You could say that throwing him into the pressure cooker of the Oval Office would further enflame these tendencies that may have in fact been borne of his military service. Would I? Probably not. Did Wesley Clark? No, of course he didn’t.

The point is that you could. If you can reasonably make an argument for EACH side of an issue, then clearly it’s debatable. Possibly it makes people uncomfortable, but the discomfort really comes from the spin and ‘analysis’, nay extrapolation, from the media. Wesley Clark doesn’t hate veterans; he is one. Michelle Obama doesn’t hate America. Barack Obama is a patriot. You can support the troops without canonizing them or thinking that being shot at will automatically transform them into the next leaders of the free world.

Ever scared of your fellow Americans?  Yeah, me too.  This video is from an Alabama news broadcast.  Yes, this is apparently what passes for news in Alabama.  What else happened that day?  I’m scared to do the research.  I just don’t want to know.  In the future when I get to throw states out of the union, this will be marked People’s 1A in the case against Alabama.

Friend of the Rough Drafts Writing Blog, David Accampo, posted this article today about a camping trip that he took with his son.  I decided to link it because it’s a good article and it gives me a chance to use these photos (below) by way of ridiculing campers.

So Don Imus is at it again. I know that you’re probably all as shocked as I am. Who would’ve thought that a racist would make racist comments again? It’s especially troubling because of the severe punishment that he received last time. What happened again? He lost his job, got his contract paid out in full, and then got another contract after having six months to dodder around his ‘cancer ranch.’ Most people would’ve learned their lesson.

You may remember that the last time he referred to the women of the Rutgers basketball team as ‘nappy-headed hoes’. This time he attributed Pacman Jones’ six arrests since being drafted to his being African-American.

I’m beginning to think that Imus has made a deal with Al Sharpton. Imus will keep saying dumb shit and Sharpton will keep attacking him for it. Classic dog and pony show. Doesn’t that make a lot more sense than thinking that Imus is just the world’s largest fucking idiot?

Pacman Jones has been out speaking with the media. He’s like the bad kid who’s just happy that his sister finally did something wrong. It’s like “see mom, I may have set the cat on fire but Beatrice is pregnant.”

Imus’ latest punishment? Jones has said that Imus “will be in his prayers.” Good Christ! How depressing does that have to be? I’m in Pacman’s prayers? Oh man! I’m a fuckup. Didn’t he just shoot a guy? Didn’t he bash a stripper’s face into the stage because she picked up money that he’d thrown into the air too quickly? Clearly Imus is a bad guy, but Pacman’s prayers? You have to be in some rough shape to find your way into Pacman’s prayers. The man who has been arrested six times in the last few years feels the need to intercede with his creator on your behalf. Think about that shit. Amy Winehouse should be in Pacman’s prayers. Trust me, she’s going to need all the help she can get. I heard a rumor last week that she singed her eyebrows off trying to freebase a bible.

It’s a sad day.  George Carlin has died.

Seven Words

The old man danced down the sidewalk like coconuts in the breeze, which is to say slowly and in scarcely perceptible waves. It wasn’t dancing really. It was drunkenness and old age. I sat and watched him approach my bench in his shuffling, drunken way. At ten feet, I smelled whiskey. Cheap whiskey. The kind of liquor that doubles as a varnish remover when you’re in a tight spot.

His clothes could best be described as a series of moth holes politely interrupted every now and then by some fabric. I wondered if he knew that his underwear were clearly visible. Asking the question seemed to be a bit too much. His hat was khaki. There were fishing flies stuck in it. It made it just that much more bizarre; flies in the only article of clothing that he was wearing that hadn’t appeared to have been eaten by moths.

His beard was gray and dingy. He muttered to himself as he walked along. I couldn’t make it out clearly, but I’d swear that he was saying “saffron” over and over again. As he got nearer, I had the debate. Should I smile? Should I ignore him? Would he notice either? I decided to ignore him. He was odd and clearly in a bad way. If I were him, I’d want to be left alone.

After getting about two feet past me, he turned and screamed “BOO” into my face. I leapt. He turned around and laughed. He went on his way. I shook my head.

The English language is a funny thing. It’s beautiful, odd, and nuanced. Many things play a factor from the order in which you place the words to inflection to a variety of other things as well. Here are a few phrases that amuse me.

1. “I don’t have to defend myself to you.”
This amuses me for the simple fact that it’s entirely useless. Big waste of time. Why? Because this statement is always followed by the speaker defending themselves. Every. Single. Time. If you’d like to prove yourself to be the Mario Lopez of English speech, please use this phrase. Some day when I rule the world, all wastes of time will be outlawed and this phrase will go out with the rest.

2. “Mama didn’t raise no fools.”
No really, you’re an idiot. You’ve proven yourself wrong by your choice of words. Trust me; Word has spelling and grammar checking so I know these things. Honestly, what is this? Is it some desire to be folksy-clever? I don’t get it. Please don’t use it in my presence. I really don’t enjoy verbally bitch-slapping people, but I have no choice. It’s in my contract, if you will.

3. “Fuck me” or “Fuck me in the ass”
Is that an invitation? Could I be arrested if I take that literally? I’m speaking of the frustrated exclamation variants of these phrases. Quite obviously, “ohhh fuck me” is clearly an invitation and in some cases a plea to be fucked. “Fuck me!” and “Fuck me in the ass!” are a more thorny issue. I don’t understand. Please. Someone clear this up: does this mean that I can fuck you or not? I know that “no means no”, but does yes sometimes also mean no?

4. “Fuck you and the horse you rode in on!”
Wow, you really must not like me if you’re willing to fuck my horse too! Wait, you hate me so much that you’ll fuck me [and my horse]? I’m not sure that I understand the sentiment behind that. Is it that your self-esteem is so low that you think sex with you is a punishment? And what the hell did my horse do? If my horse is a stallion, does that make you gay? Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

5. “Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle!”
Really? Did you just hear the story I told you? It had nothing to do with me fucking a monkey, and come to think of it … you’re not my brother. You’re a liar and I hate you. I think I might need to fuck your horse.

Here’s the thing: I’m a pretty simple dude. I don’t really ask for much. I don’t really need a lot. I need bacon, fountain soda, and porn. There you go: my desert island ‘what would you bring’ choices. As you can surmise, I begin this all with a reason.

I’ve been going to the gym, as I mentioned here. Lately, I’ve been going a lot. I’ve only taken one day off in the last week and a half or so. A problem has developed. I just don’t have enough shorts. I had two pairs (and one pair of wind pants perish the thought), one red and one black. I’m washing them every day; I’m not a dirtbag. Now I know this, but does everyone else? You see now? The need for more shorts. I prefer Adidas mesh Basketball shorts. In the spirit of my opening, it’s not a very exotic choice.

After picking up a white pair at my local JC Penney’s (Upstate NY is clearly a fashion hub - New York - London - Paris - Albany … if I just had a dollar for every shopping bag that’s embossed on …), I was unable to find another pair in an acceptable color. I’m not going to wear bright orange as I’m not a fucking pylon. I’m not going to wear periwinkle. Sorry dude, just not going to happen.

So I decided to head on over to adidas.com to check out the selection there. I figured it wouldn’t be that difficult to find a simple dark green or yellow pair. Perhaps even gray. Well, it was quite the ordeal. After getting lost in the shoe section for a bit (Superstar fetish), I finally made it over to the shorts. HOLY FUCKING SHIT! Wicked confusing.

Now I thought it would be incredibly easy. Simple thing … Adidas Basketball shorts, preferably with stripes on the side. Fairly standard fare. Little did I know that there’s apparently a whole lot of science that goes into the Adidas shorts. They sell $80 shorts that have technology that hunts sweat like a hungry python in the jungle, complete with toothache pain-induced bad attitude. I found myself in this very bizarre world where I had to ask myself questions like “Do I want ClimaControl sweat protection or angry lion detective sweat protection?” Jeez, I don’t know. “What’s a split short?” “Wait, does fitted mean they’ll hug my nuts?”

You see the problem, of course, I had to wade through a river of exotic choices about sweat repellent and cut when I was just looking for THEIR MOST BASIC PAIR OF SHORTS. I did eventually find a few acceptable pairs, but God Lord that sucked.

I know that my whole problem is caused by a combination of my persnickety preferences and psychosis. Most people wouldn’t care whether or not strangers thought that they did laundry regularly. But I do, and at least I admit it.

So because I’m in an odd mood today, I’ve been thinking about running away to join The League of Assassins. The largest problem with this, of course, is that they’re not real. The League of Assassins are a group of comic book characters that have long fought against Batman and others. They’ve been led by Ra’s Al Ghul, Talia Al Ghul, and others.

I decided to lay out the Pros and Cons of LoA membership.

PROS

1. The money. I’d say that it probably pays fairly well. I don’t know that it’s ever been exactly stated that LoA members are well paid, but it’s a dangerous job with a fairly shallow applicant pool so you’d think.

2. Inter-organization conflict resolution methods. In the straight world, if you have a problem with a co-worker you have to sit down and talk it out - possibly with a third party. As a LoA member, you could just kill them.

3. Travel. You never know where you’re going to have to try to kill Batman next. He could be in Gotham, Nanda Parbat, space, whatever. You’re going to get to see the world.

4. Mobility. You won’t have to try to kill Batman at your desk. There will be no counting the bumps on the stucco ceiling above your desk. You’ll get to go outside and blow the stink off yourself.

5. Organizational propaganda. Every job has it. The posters and flyers, motivational and informational. The LoA doesn’t have really shitty ones like the poster of the cat that says ‘Hang In There’ under it.

They have cool shit on the walls. Like this:

and this:

6. Insanely low expectations. Largely speaking, you only have one goal: kill Batman. It’s safe to say that you can fail to do that for decades and keep your job. It’s like being a state employee, but you get to have a sword.

Cons

1. Batman. You have to get your ass beat by Batman constantly. You’d think that would suck. Would it suck as much as not being able to kill people that irritate you? You be the judge.

2. Dental. From what I understand, the LoA doesn’t offer dental. I don’t think that’s really fair. It would be bad enough to have a regular job that didn’t offer dental, but to have a job where you’re constantly punched in the mouth by Batman … you kind of need dental.

3. Vision. Perhaps if the LoA offered vision benefits their assassins would actually be able to assassinate someone. Big Picture People! Come on - Look at it!

4. The law. Membership in the LoA kind of automatically makes you an outlaw. This does technically cut both ways. Positively, it’s got to be easier to get laid when you’re a known criminal (just ask OJ Simpson). Negatively, you could end up getting laid in jail (see above). This goes into the con list because I really don’t want to get raped. I’m quite pretty so this is a concern.

I don’t know kids. That’s what I’ve got so far. It looks at this point like joining the League would be more positive than negative. I’m interested to hear your thoughts. I’m sure that I forgot something.

This is the funniest YouTube video that I’ve seen in a while.