Listen Up…
For some reason not entirely clear to me, I just spent a few minutes going through some old Facebook posts of mine and found this. It was a chain letter, essentially, that was being passed around a while back that asked for the top fifteen albums of all time. Thought it might be worth sharing. The instructions at the top stated to just list fifteen albums, but because I am me, and I NEVER use ten words when 25 are available to me, I added a brief reasoning in parenthesis after each album. Feel free to add your own, or criticize me. You should know, though, that anyone who disagrees with even one of these albums is wrong, plain and simple…
15 Albums
1. Everclear-Sparkle and Fade (The Bible, essentially)
2. Tool-Aenima (60 minutes of non-stop creative genius and sociological angst. If you can’t see the brilliance here, I dont think we should be friends anymore)
3. Orbit-Libido Speedway (The greatest album you’ve probably never heard. Do yourself a favor…)
4. The Pixies-Doolittle (Any Pixies album would have been fine here, so I just picked the first one I listened to)
5. The Yeah Yeah Yeahs-Fever To Tell (The lead singer is the hottest ugly woman on the planet…And the guitar riffs are ridiculous)
6. Bad Religion-Stranger Than Fiction (All of my opinions on politics, society, and organized religion began to form the first time I heard this band. So blame Greg Graffin, not me)
7. Ani Difranco-Dilate (Some of the angriest, and most beautiful, vocals I have ever heard)
8. Nirvana-Nevermind (I know its cliché, but its a classic for a reason)
(Image withheld. Posting pictures of baby wieners makes me uncomfortable)
9. Pearl Jam-Ten (See Above)
10. Everclear-World of Noise (Raw. No other way to describe this perfectly under-processed masterpiece)
11. Our Lady Peace-Naveed (Gotta love Canada: Bacon, Molson, Hockey, Our Lady Peace, Michael J. Fox…Wait, what?)
12.Placebo-Without You I’m Nothing (This album actually makes you want to freebase heroin…I’m not exactly sure why)
13.Radiohead-The Bends (Thom Yorke is the one guy I wouldn’t even hesitate giving a blowjob to. Just saying…)
14. Red Hot Chili Peppers-Californication (I know I’ll get a fight out of this, but I just think it’s better than Blood Sugar Sex Magik)
15. Morphine- Cure For Pain (This album was the first time it ever really occurred to me that you don’t need a guitar to make rock n’ roll)
(Return to May whatever, 2012) Honorable mention: Since this list was published a few years ago, Arcade Fire had not yet released “The Suburbs”, which is a fucking fantastic album. I cannot yet include it on this list though, because it is only a little over a year old. I’m like the baseball hall of fame: Gotta be at least a few years old so I can see how the album holds up over time and how it fits into historical musical context.
Why In God’s Name…
OK, I’m back. What’d I miss?
Sorry for the prolonged silence. I don’t mention them as much as I do the Dolphins, but the New Jersey Devils are another passion of mine. So I have been fully enthralled in the NHL conference finals, which pits the team I have followed devoutly since I was two against the team I have hated passionately for roughly the same time. Hating the Rangers is a full-time job in itself, especially since their fans are the same breed of mouth-breathing, Mongoloid retard that follow the New York Jets around during football season. But let’s get back to business, OK? (Oh, and there is a certain irony in me beginning this post by swearing my allegiance to the Devils, but that isn’t completely clear to you…yet.)
I am an off-again-on-again listener of Don Imus, the morning rush hour “shock jock” currently aired in New York on 770AM (A right-wing politically driven talk radio station) and syndicated nationally. I am not a huge fan. I mean, he is a pretty funny guy and usually has some interesting guests, so why not, right? Now, his wife is a dangerous, ignorant twat who gives trophy wives a bad name and he has become more and more right-wing conservative since his earlier days, but Opie and Anthony are on satellite radio, which I refuse to pay for, and I can’t listen to sports talk radio all the time, so now and again, I’ll tune in to the “I-man”.
One of his guests this morning was Father Johnathan Morris, a member of the New York Archdiocese, and a frequent contributor to the Fox News Network, which means I hate him on many, many different levels. Specifically, he spent some time discussing the Catholic church’s views on things like gay marriage and in-vitro fertilization. The churches outrageous views on these topics are where we are going to spend a few moments now.
It is no secret to those that really know me, and now to all of you, that my three-year old twins are the product of a succesful In-vitro fertilization procedure. So you’ll understand when I listen to a highly regarded leader in the Catholic community tell a national radio audience that my kids, and the many out there just like them, are an abomination to God, my first and lasting reaction is to shout “Fuck you, Father. And Fuck your God.”
What is it about my kids that is so fucking offensive to your spiritual sensibilities? How do two children, who are loved and cared for as well as any other child on this planet, interfere with the practice of your religion? My children are polite, respectful, compassionate, tolerant and loving. More than I can say for many of your congregation.
You know, the congregation that spends it’s time berating eighteen year old girls outside of abortion clinics.
The congregation that believes Homosexuals should be imprisoned behind electrified fences and starved to death. (Like this piece of shit.)
The congregation that protests homosexuality at the funerals of deceased combat veterans, and tells the fallen soldiers loved ones that they are dead because “God hates fags”.(Link here, but be warned, it will make your blood boil.)
And let’s not just pick on the Catholics, they certainly aren’t the only ones that “God” has directed to do horrific things…
Oh, and the good padre’s reasoning for the churches stance against in-vitro? The belief that all children should be “the product of the love between a man and a woman”.
Pardon me, asshole. My children are the product of two years of doctors appointments, and blood tests, and ultrasounds. My children are the product of a mother who wanted them so completely and desperately that she subjected herself to years of pokes and prods and hormone injections with needles so large it made her insulin dependent, three-needle-a-day husband cringe. My children are the product of a father who had to continually have his sperm tested and analyzed. (Turns out jerking off in a sterile doctors office five feet outside of a crowded waiting room is exactly as sexy as you’d think, by the way.) My children took more love, and dedication, and persistence, and tears to create than most that you have ever met. So when I hear you say that they aren’t the product of love between a man and a woman, it makes me want to cut your fucking legs off with a plastic butter knife. How dare you?
Isn’t it time for us to evolve past God?
I understand the need for God a few millenia ago. We were still new to the planet. Science, and reason, and logic hadn’t really had their day yet, and the ancient villages needed some way to explain the unexplainable. But that isn’t the case now. Now we have science. Now we have technology. Now we have explanations. Do we really still need “God” to point out what is right and what is wrong? I don’t follow the Bible, or any religious teachings, yet I still know what it takes to generally be a good person. I don’t kill, or steal or lie (OK, that was a lie). I don’t need a book filled with fantastic fables and thinly veiled threats to tell me to be a good person. I had parents who did that. As I intend to do with my children (Who are half-Jewish anyway, so it’s not like the Christians were ever gonna welcome them with open arms, no matter how they were conceived.)
I look at religion the same way I look at sexual orientation: “I don’t give a fuck what you do on your own time, just leave me out of it.” You wanna get on your knees before bedtime and ask the invisible man in the clouds for favors? Be my guest. Why would I give a shit? But keep it to yourself. How my kids came to be is none of your damn business.
Now on to gay marriage: Again, why does it matter to you? How do two people publicly announcing their love for one another affect your day in the slightest? It’s always been amazing to me that the church is so vocally opposed to acts of homosexuality until it involves their priests blowing altar boys. Then all of a sudden they take a strict vow of silence.
And in regards to the churches ban on birth control: Rest assured that if altar boys could get pregnant, the church would be handing out condoms like communion wafers.
Your God is dying. And the quicker the better. Because your God is a judgemental, insensitive bigot. And while the people of Earth continue to grow in compassion with each passing generation, our need for your God is diminished.
And I will continue to lump you moderates in with the extremists that claim to represent you until you flush those that preach hatred and violence from your ranks like you would a fungal infection that grows under your toenails. Your silence implies approval, and you are a part of the problem.
Now the fun part. Where the religious assholes tell me how loving their God is, and how he will smite me to an eternity of fire and pain for my views. I love irony…
Matron Saint…
Chaos in Theory Volume 12…
Slap and Tickle…
Poking and prodding teachers is kind of a hobby of mine. Two reasons for that, really. The first being that their general over-sensitivity to criticism is so goddamn entertaining. The second is that my wife is a teacher, and I enjoy nothing more than poking my wife. (Yes, I meant that literally and figuratively.) However, for every couple of slaps, I like to abide them with a tickle or two. Ladies, prepare to be tickled…
My dearly beloved teaches first grade in a pretty rough public school, in a really tough neighborhood. She has come home with horror stories which, at first, I always thought were made up because of her vivid imagination and her oppressive addiction to methamphetamines (not really). Through the years, however, I have come to understood the bleak reality that can be her average workday. Recently, one of these stories enraged me.
Apparently, a boy in another class, a rambunctious 7 or 8-year-old, bolted from his classroom, and ran down the hall. When another teacher attempted to stop him, he spit on her and tried to push her down the stairs. The part that really pissed me off? The day before this same little asshole threw a sharpened pencil like a dart at the teachers assistant in the room. Luckily, the projectile pierced her sweater and nothing else. So this all begs one simple question:
Why shouldn’t teachers be entitled to the same workplace safety that we all have a legal right to?
My employer, in the private sector, is legally required to provide me with as safe a working environment as possible. If a co-worker of mine physically assaulted me one day, and was in a position to do the same, or worse, the very next day, I would have a pretty fat legal settlement coming my way. Do our teachers deserve less? Why is a student who attacked a teacher with a sharp object on a Monday allowed back in any classroom, with no punishment or treatment, on Tuesday?
If my wife were hurt, seriously or not, by a student with a violent past because the school system was too incompetent, or gutless, to deal with the problem head-on, I would encourage her to sue for millions. Yeah, millions. Because she is entitled to go to work everyday and feel confident that those that hold her in their employ have done everything they possibly can to provide her with a risk-free work environment.
Now if we don’t give a shit about the teachers safety, which apparently we don’t, how about the other kids? My feelings as a husband are dwarfed by those I would feel as a parent of a child in that school. If my son or daughter came home telling a story of a classmate throwing sharp objects around the room, you better fucking A believe that I would demand that that kid not be allowed anywhere near my kid. Bullying is one thing. Violent anti-social behavior is another case altogether.
“But SOB, what about the kid. Clearly he needs help and you can’t just throw him out.”
Short answer? I don’t give a fuck. Put him in a detention center with the other future criminals. Why should a classroom of children and teachers be put at risk because of a misguided compassion for one little fuck-up? What kind of education can my kid be getting when the teacher has to spend his or her entire day either dealing with a psychopath, or living in fear of one?
I hope a teacher does get mildly assaulted. And I hope that teacher sues the balls off the school district, the town and the state for fucking millions. I hope the legal settlement is so offensively large that schools are forced to wake up and protect their employees in unprecedented ways, including expelling the disrespectful little bags of shit that threaten them daily.
Teachers didn’t sign up for this. These aren’t corrections officers that should expect to deal with nonsense like this on a daily basis. They don’t deserve to be spit at, and shoved, and assaulted, and disrespected by those they have devoted their lives to serving. Let’s weed out the garbage and let those that have chosen to teach our youth provide that service safely and securely. And let’s give the kids that want to learn every chance to do so, even if it means casting others out in the cold.
I don’t give a shit what the government says. Some kids should be left behind…
(I am SO getting laid for this…)
Are You Not Entertained?
Earlier this week, the news broke that former NFL superstar defensive player Junior Seau was found dead in his home, victim of an apparent self-inflicted gunshot wound. Since then, the medical examiner in California has confirmed that, despite the absence of any sort of note, suicide was, in fact, the cause of death. Seau, just 43 years old, had shot himself in the chest.
Last month, 62-year-old retired Atlanta Falcon Ray Easterling killed himself after a long post-career battle with early onset dementia.
Last year, former Chicago Bear Dave Duerson, age 50, also committed suicide. And like Seau, a gunshot to the chest was the chosen method.
And these are just the latest, and most widely covered, of past and present NFL players suffering major neurological issues, presumably (not scientifically proven…yet) the result of years of violent and repeated head trauma. In addition to a remarkably high suicide rate, Dementia, Depression and other various brain disorders run rampant through the ranks of the league, most often in retired players. So at what point do we start to question what we find entertaining?
For those who may not have figured it out yet, I live and breathe football. I read about it. I write about it. I follow the game all year round. From the beginning of training camp in July, through the Super Bowl in February, I’m there. Free agency in March, the April draft, the late Spring training camps? Can’t get enough. My football addiction is a major part of my life. So I am not here to cast judgement on the sport or the rabid observers that scream at their TV’s every Sunday in the fall. In fact, I am one of you.
However, the news of Seau’s death this week forced me to question what it is I am rooting for. I like aggressive play. I love big hits. I go insane watching opposing QB’s get absolutely fucking leveled on third down in the fourth quarter. I can admit it. But what does it say about me that I have no regard for the human beings who are providing this entertainment? How am I different from a Roman citizen lusting for blood and cheering uproariously for the lion to devour the Christian? Or for the Emperor to order the slaying of a fallen gladiator?
Does it make me a more palatable human being because the NFL gladiators death is delayed, occurring years after the competition, rather than right there on the arena floor? I don’t think there can be any more doubt that the competition is the cause of so many of these premature deaths. So aren’t we now just talking about a matter of timing? Is it OK to cheer the big hit if the death and destruction it causes takes place ten years later, rather than ten seconds? Is “out of sight, out of mind” making all of this more acceptable? Society now looks back in disgust at the gruesome blood lust of our ancient ancestors. What will future generations say about us when they look back at what we considered “sport”? I know people have made the argument that NFL players are not forced to play, and are eager to take on the risks that such a violent game brings. But so were the Gladiators. These men were regarded as “champions” and were honored to die for their “sport”. ( I know this because I have seen all three seasons of “Spartacus”, so clearly I am an expert) Yet we still mock those that supported and promoted it.
I do not think of these players as victims and do not support the lawsuits that have recently popped up against the league. I look at these lawsuit with the same cynicism as the ones where fat people sue McDonald’s because their four Big Mac-a-day habit made them obese. But does that mean I should be supporting, both emotionally and financially, their endeavor? (Quick aside: My opinion of these lawsuits will change if it is proven that the league did anything to deceive or mislead the players in regards to their medical conditions.)
Take Wayne Chrebet, for example. Chrebet was one of those players that I hated passionately. Mainly, because he was a gritty, determined, overachieving classy player, which I love. But he was a lifelong New York Jet, which I hate. And I hate when classy, likeable players play for the Jets, because I am much more comfortable when they are lazy, classless imbeciles, like most of them are. Chrebet was a Jets wide receiver, meaning I spent a decade rooting for a Dolphins Safety to knock his fucking head off, time and time again. Which they did. Often. Chrebet retired after suffering his eighth known concussion (reports are that he could have had as many as 15, including the undiagnosed ones), and has been suffering from dementia that has gotten progressively worse. Chrebet is 48 years old. Can I honestly say that I am not the least bit partially to blame for his condition? I can’t say that with certainty. And that makes me uncomfortable.
Oh, and in case you were wondering, these players are choosing to shoot themselves in the chest so as to preserve their brain for scientific research, hoping that future generations of football players will not succumb to the various ailments they themselves have suffered. One more valiant, selfless act before they die. Good teammates to the end, I suppose.
This will pass for me, I’m sure. By this time next week, I will have moved on from this brief lapse in fanhood and will once again be following every Miami beat writer, fascinated by every nugget of team information they can provide. In July, I will count down the days to the beginning of training camp (In fact, I already am), and in September I will refer to the first Sunday of the NFL season as my favorite day of the year. But today, if only just today, I can’t help but feel like one of those irrational blood thirsty Romans that society likes to pretend it left behind centuries ago.
Let’s go Dolphins…
Chaos in Theory Volume 12…
It’s been two days and “Looks Like We Made It” is still running through my head on an endless fucking loop like a skipping CD, so I am hoping a Chaos in Theory forces me to think about something other than Manilow’s intoxicating melodies and dreamy still-spiky hair. Let’s see if we can’t flush him out of my system like the luke warm empanadas and watered down Margaritas many of you will defile yourselves with tomorrow night…
- There are many things I am arrogant about, but the one thing I am particularly douchey about is music. I, for the life of me, have no understanding of people who don’t listen to what I listen to. Conversely, if you try to sell me on what you’re wearing out on your Ipod and I think it sucks, I will immediately shuttle you off to the “pay-no-mind” list and will never take you seriously about anything, ever again. Unless you are my mother, obviously. Then not only will I support your taste, but provide you with the live experience (See my last post). That’s it though. If you are listening to shit, and at no point did I sprout from your vagina, you are fucked. This even goes for my children. At three-and-a-half, they already know that any request for the “Dora the Explorer” CD in Daddy’s car will be answered with not only a degrading look, but a verbal beat down that will reduce everyone to tears. So from now on at the beginning of every Chaos in Theory, I am going to recommend a song or album that you need to be paying more attention to. I’ll post a You tube link along with it so you have easy access to it. They won’t be in any particular order. This isn’t a list or ranking. It will just be what I’m in the mood for as I am writing. Like this song, for instance. Today was a beautiful warm afternoon, perfect for driving with the windows down and playing this song full throttle. So here, a song called “Medicine” by now defunct Boston-based rock trio Orbit. And probably defunct, by the way, because YOU weren’t paying enough attention to them, so thanks, scumbag. (If you like this song, find the CD “Libido Speedway” on Amazon and buy it. It’s great, top-to-bottom. And if you don’t like it, you are dead to me) So here goes…
- So Jessica Simpson had her baby, huh? Great. Just when you thought the childhood obesity rate in this country couldn’t get any higher. Also, my guess is that post-child birth Jessica isn’t any less fat than pregnant Jessica. No sir, I assume her days of putting Chinese buffets out of business are just getting started. If she still has those Daisy Duke shorts from a few years ago, I imagine she only uses them now to wipe the gravy off her chin(s) at the breakfast table…
- Take a look at this video. Then after you’ve watched it, we are going to see how many one-liners we can come up with to accompany it. Yeah, we are going Tosh.0 on this shit. (The money shot is at the thirty-second mark.)
OK…Go…
1. I guess getting to sit at the front of the bus just isn’t good enough for today’s blacks, huh?
2. You see this type of thing all the time in New York City. It’s the only way black guys can get taxis to stop for them…
3. Some guys will do ANYTHING to extend their Disability benefits…
4. The guy got up and walked away (Seriously), proving once and for all that “Black don’t crack”…
5. This took place in Texas. So you just know he was pushed, right?
6. Did George Zimmerman get a job as a bus driver when he made bail?
(Thinking…thinking…C’mon SOB, push yourself!!!!!!!!!)
7. Wow, it’s like “Ghetto Frogger”…
8. You know, Rosa Parks never showed that kind of commitment…
OK, I am spent (And somehow out of breath, which defies explanation). Those of you that have not been scared off by the not-so-thinly veiled racism can feel free to add your own in the comments section below. Have at it…
Oh and the guy really did just get up and walk away from that unharmed, which is just fucking mind-blowing…
- Think the above section was in poor taste? You would have absolutely fucking HATED the “Bloody Christ on the cross” photo caption contest that occurred on my personal Facebook page a few weeks back. Oh boy. That did NOT go over well. Oh and a quick question to the bible-thumpers: Wow, what language! You tongue-kiss Alter boys with that mouth?
- Know why I don’t believe in god? Two reasons:
1. A couple of years ago, a friend of my wife’s family (A good, religious woman) lost her three-year old son to a brain tumor.
2. You just fucking KNOW this bitch will live to be 108 years old:
OK. Did it work? Has Manilow finally been exorcised like a small gay goblin? Hold on, let’s see…
GOD DAMMIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
