Monday, April 21, 2003
Sunday, April 20, 2003
Jesus H. Christ.
Not able to avoid certain disaster, I had tickets to fly on American Airlines to Lawton, Oklahoma over the weekend. As the big airlines suffer and continue to point to peoples fears over terrorism and war, etc... as anxieties leading to their financial ruin, I suggest this is only partially true. The truth is that the economy slowed for reasons having more to do with a sudden realization that the internet is just a computerized catalog. So people have lost their jobs, and those who did work really couldn't afford to go off and travel as much anymore. And jobless people tend not to WANT to travel as much. At least not by plane. Hence, a lighter lode on the air-o-planes.
But all that aside, I try not to fly because the airline industry is a monopolistic behemoth which charges you hundreds for worse service than one gets for a buck on public transportation.
On my way to Lawton, America on Thursday, upon my arrival in Dallas (my connecting city) that I was being bumped and could either take a voucher and travel on the morning or get bumped and take no voucher and travel in the morning if I did not volunteer to give up my seat. Keep in mind, I bought my tickets around December 12th for this weekend's voyage.
"Why am I bumped?" "The plane is too heavy." "Are you saying I can't fly because I'm fat?" "No sir. The plane is too heavy." "You mean you overbooked." "No, we don't do that. The plane is too heavy." "But isn't the plane engineered to hold as much weight as there are seats?" "I wouldn't know." "So it's overbooked." "No sir, we don't do that."
When I asked why I was bumped over others, I was told that I had bought "restricted tickets." "I don't remember buying restricted tickets," I replied. "What is a restricted ticket?" "It's restricted." "But what are the restrictions?" "It's a restricted ticket. It means you get bumped." "But how did these people choose NOT to travel with restricted tickets?" "They didn't buy restricted tickets." "Neither did I." "You did, sir." And so it went.
So I went to my wife and told her our situation, and immediately she lost her mind. "But," I said, "we can stay in a free hotel, and fly out first thing tomorrow." "No," I was told.
So I went back to the desk. "No," I said. I had already been marked as a volunteer for even CONSIDERING this course of action. We were bumped already.
Anyway, we told them "we're renting a car and driving." "We will not pay for a car." "How about a refund on the ticket we can't use?" "We can't do that. We can put you in a hotel." "That makes no sense." "You can talk to our agent at the ticket sales" (which, if you've gone through DFW, one would know, was literally miles away from the A Terminal Annex). "I want a refund." "You can't. You bought a restricted ticket." "I don't understand." "You're making money. This voucher is worth more than your ticket." "Yes," I did not say, "But i will never fly your fucking ludicrous airline again even if it's with the promise of a floorshow and free booze."
So we drove some insane miles to Lawton from Dallas. We had a nice weekend and returned to Phoenix. Of course I now have no idea where my checked bag is.
"Was it on the plane?" "I don't know." "Did it get on the plane in lawton." "I don't know that, sir." "Nobody scans the luggage before it gets on the plane or when it gets off?" "No sir." "So you have no idea where it is?" "No, sir."
I have heard economists on the radio talk about how American and the other failing airlines cannot compete with the likes of SOuthwest, but that there is an inherent goodness to American because of the class of service one provides. To this I say: horseshit. The airlines have always bilked those of us relegated to the cattle car cabins, and we've always taken it, so enamored with the rapidity of transport. Do these economists actually ever ride in coach? Do they not see the thin line between this and a cross-town bus?
And at all this, their management, whose idea of an improvement is forcing the captive audience to watch Everybody Loves Raymond, has now cut deals where flight attendants, baggage handlers, mechanics and pilots will all be losing huge portions of their pay. Well done, American Airlines. And I want my damn bag back, and it better have everything in it, or I'm claiming the world's craziest insurance bonanza you've ever seen.
Not able to avoid certain disaster, I had tickets to fly on American Airlines to Lawton, Oklahoma over the weekend. As the big airlines suffer and continue to point to peoples fears over terrorism and war, etc... as anxieties leading to their financial ruin, I suggest this is only partially true. The truth is that the economy slowed for reasons having more to do with a sudden realization that the internet is just a computerized catalog. So people have lost their jobs, and those who did work really couldn't afford to go off and travel as much anymore. And jobless people tend not to WANT to travel as much. At least not by plane. Hence, a lighter lode on the air-o-planes.
But all that aside, I try not to fly because the airline industry is a monopolistic behemoth which charges you hundreds for worse service than one gets for a buck on public transportation.
On my way to Lawton, America on Thursday, upon my arrival in Dallas (my connecting city) that I was being bumped and could either take a voucher and travel on the morning or get bumped and take no voucher and travel in the morning if I did not volunteer to give up my seat. Keep in mind, I bought my tickets around December 12th for this weekend's voyage.
"Why am I bumped?" "The plane is too heavy." "Are you saying I can't fly because I'm fat?" "No sir. The plane is too heavy." "You mean you overbooked." "No, we don't do that. The plane is too heavy." "But isn't the plane engineered to hold as much weight as there are seats?" "I wouldn't know." "So it's overbooked." "No sir, we don't do that."
When I asked why I was bumped over others, I was told that I had bought "restricted tickets." "I don't remember buying restricted tickets," I replied. "What is a restricted ticket?" "It's restricted." "But what are the restrictions?" "It's a restricted ticket. It means you get bumped." "But how did these people choose NOT to travel with restricted tickets?" "They didn't buy restricted tickets." "Neither did I." "You did, sir." And so it went.
So I went to my wife and told her our situation, and immediately she lost her mind. "But," I said, "we can stay in a free hotel, and fly out first thing tomorrow." "No," I was told.
So I went back to the desk. "No," I said. I had already been marked as a volunteer for even CONSIDERING this course of action. We were bumped already.
Anyway, we told them "we're renting a car and driving." "We will not pay for a car." "How about a refund on the ticket we can't use?" "We can't do that. We can put you in a hotel." "That makes no sense." "You can talk to our agent at the ticket sales" (which, if you've gone through DFW, one would know, was literally miles away from the A Terminal Annex). "I want a refund." "You can't. You bought a restricted ticket." "I don't understand." "You're making money. This voucher is worth more than your ticket." "Yes," I did not say, "But i will never fly your fucking ludicrous airline again even if it's with the promise of a floorshow and free booze."
So we drove some insane miles to Lawton from Dallas. We had a nice weekend and returned to Phoenix. Of course I now have no idea where my checked bag is.
"Was it on the plane?" "I don't know." "Did it get on the plane in lawton." "I don't know that, sir." "Nobody scans the luggage before it gets on the plane or when it gets off?" "No sir." "So you have no idea where it is?" "No, sir."
I have heard economists on the radio talk about how American and the other failing airlines cannot compete with the likes of SOuthwest, but that there is an inherent goodness to American because of the class of service one provides. To this I say: horseshit. The airlines have always bilked those of us relegated to the cattle car cabins, and we've always taken it, so enamored with the rapidity of transport. Do these economists actually ever ride in coach? Do they not see the thin line between this and a cross-town bus?
And at all this, their management, whose idea of an improvement is forcing the captive audience to watch Everybody Loves Raymond, has now cut deals where flight attendants, baggage handlers, mechanics and pilots will all be losing huge portions of their pay. Well done, American Airlines. And I want my damn bag back, and it better have everything in it, or I'm claiming the world's craziest insurance bonanza you've ever seen.
Wednesday, April 16, 2003
I think GW should cut $550 billion from the budget, but there's no reason to actually change tax laws. He apparently felt he should refund certain taxpayers around $300 a while back. At least that's what I got. I immediately spent the money on strippers and gum. The plan worked for me, and I think it can work again.
If we have $550 billion we can trim (but we don't change tax laws), and say that there are 300 million Americans, each one of them could get back around $1833.333333 That's a pretty sweet deal. But something tells me that I will NOT be getting back $1833.33. Something tells me that I will have to wait for that money to trickle down to me after At&T and Enron take a big ol' tax break that will change my phone bill $1.00 a year and $5.00 on my electric bill. Whoo-hoo.
But just imagine if this WAS the plan. And not just $1833.33 per tax payer, but per person (at 300 million Americans). That's 349.2 hours of work at minimum wage of $5.25 an hour. Or 8.7 weeks of 40 hour work weeks. Imagine being in the family with three kids and being a working single mom and getting a check for $7333.33 from Uncle Sam. That's 1396.82 hours, or roughly 34.9 weeks at 40 hours. Just imagine the added opportunity and benefits, and no messy government bureaucracy that tax dollars are forced to support.
My point is, taxes are not what is killing companies, it's the fact people don't have jobs to spend money (which gets a sales tax), and then companies don't have money the government can tax in return. Now imagine a sudden influx of $550 billion in the hands of the public. After we got done spending money on strippers and gum, there might still be around $200 left for other things; Taxable things bought from taxable companies.
If my plan works (and it surely will) next year the economy should be humming along like an economic perpetual motion machine. Until inflation points out once again, that money is an imaginary concept made tangible by tiny slips of green paper, and in which case, never held any intrinsic value anyway. So if my plan does take hold, I suggest you stock up on ammunition and clean water, because by the time the plan runs through to it's logical conclusion, it's going to be Thunderdome in the major cities.
If we have $550 billion we can trim (but we don't change tax laws), and say that there are 300 million Americans, each one of them could get back around $1833.333333 That's a pretty sweet deal. But something tells me that I will NOT be getting back $1833.33. Something tells me that I will have to wait for that money to trickle down to me after At&T and Enron take a big ol' tax break that will change my phone bill $1.00 a year and $5.00 on my electric bill. Whoo-hoo.
But just imagine if this WAS the plan. And not just $1833.33 per tax payer, but per person (at 300 million Americans). That's 349.2 hours of work at minimum wage of $5.25 an hour. Or 8.7 weeks of 40 hour work weeks. Imagine being in the family with three kids and being a working single mom and getting a check for $7333.33 from Uncle Sam. That's 1396.82 hours, or roughly 34.9 weeks at 40 hours. Just imagine the added opportunity and benefits, and no messy government bureaucracy that tax dollars are forced to support.
My point is, taxes are not what is killing companies, it's the fact people don't have jobs to spend money (which gets a sales tax), and then companies don't have money the government can tax in return. Now imagine a sudden influx of $550 billion in the hands of the public. After we got done spending money on strippers and gum, there might still be around $200 left for other things; Taxable things bought from taxable companies.
If my plan works (and it surely will) next year the economy should be humming along like an economic perpetual motion machine. Until inflation points out once again, that money is an imaginary concept made tangible by tiny slips of green paper, and in which case, never held any intrinsic value anyway. So if my plan does take hold, I suggest you stock up on ammunition and clean water, because by the time the plan runs through to it's logical conclusion, it's going to be Thunderdome in the major cities.
Tuesday, April 15, 2003
I was duped. I admit it. On April 1st I reported, falsely, that the Superman statue in Metropolis Illinois had been stolen. Read the update here. While I had my suspicions it might be a prank, it seemed like a hell of a lot of work. Honestly, I guess I just didn't find it that far fetched that in a small town, some Cleetus might back his truck up to a Superman statue and take off with it as an April fools prank of his own. And keep in mind, the guy who wrote the article moved from California to Metropolis so he could open a Superman museum, so you can understand when I believed his distress.
Anyway, I hope anyone who read the initial story can breathe easier now. I go now to hang my head in shame.
Anyway, I hope anyone who read the initial story can breathe easier now. I go now to hang my head in shame.
best song ever
for more incredibly interesting audio bits with which to waste your day, go here.
Advertisers frequently make the misstep of assuming folks would like to see their food anthropomorphized. I've never really known what urge there is to make my food cute. A lot of my food once was cute. Cows certainly have a stupid, endearing quality that, if you really got to know your cow, you probably would choose to not want to eat it. That is, living in America where we always have the option of NOT eating our pets, you might not want to eat your cow, unlike, say, in Canada, where you might eat your own children.
for more incredibly interesting audio bits with which to waste your day, go here.
Advertisers frequently make the misstep of assuming folks would like to see their food anthropomorphized. I've never really known what urge there is to make my food cute. A lot of my food once was cute. Cows certainly have a stupid, endearing quality that, if you really got to know your cow, you probably would choose to not want to eat it. That is, living in America where we always have the option of NOT eating our pets, you might not want to eat your cow, unlike, say, in Canada, where you might eat your own children.
Monday, April 14, 2003
The love hang-over has set in back in Iraq. Already the Iraqis are taking to the streets in anti-Bush demonstrations as US forces have failed to instate anything resembling order. Man, that freedom of speech thing is a bear, isn't it? It sounds like Tommy F. and the crew are now instilling a little Martial Law to keep the peace.
In their best efforts to prove the arm-chair conspiracy theorists right, the US is now looking at Syria all twitchy. Just this morning I heard the first rumblings about Syria having chemical weapons. Lest we forget that about a month ago, the Pentagon assured us that Iraq is stocked to the gills with WoMD, yet these weapons have made no appearances during the conflict, and every report that something had been found has turned out to be a false alarm. Sooner or later something WILL turn up, the foreign press is really leaning on this issue now, so something is going to have to be found. But as things progress, I bet we can all just forget about those ties the White House insisted existed between Hussein and Bin laden. With the palaces levelled and Saddam atomized, the evidence will be declared too confusing and lost to history. Already those things are swept beneath the rug. Now it's going to be all about getting US MIA's and POWs home, which is a good thing, but the fighting has not yet ceased.
It also appears Saddam should have been sending his interior decorator to the firing squad instead of wasting his time with all of those dissidents. From the sounds of it, Saddam was into a little kink and Boris Vallejo art, or else had his D&D playing nephew with the problem getting dates to do his living room. One wonders what further treasure troves of questionable taste our GI's will continue to uncover?
Rumsfeld must be rolling on the floor of the Pentagon proclaiming he saw Goody Syria with the devil. Now we're told Syria has weapons, and, no doubt, will be shown to be the magician with the pack of cards up it's sleeve. Waving absolutely zero evidence in front of the media, and tossing in those all-too-familiar terms of "terrorism" and "Weapons of mass destruction", the State Department and Pentagon are looking for the sort of bare-ass-in-the-air cooperation that they will later insist means nothing unless we use some Sherman tanks to check it out for ourselves. Powell is looking at sanctions against the Syrians (probably because sanctions elicited such a swift response from Saddam & crew), and has taken to playing the Reverend Hale to Syria's John Proctor. Syria will have to prove they have no ties to terrorism and no weapons, which is, of course, as realistic and sensible as tossing yourself off a cliff to prove you can't fly and are therefore not a witch. This very problem is why we generally operate under the rule that burden of proof is on the accuser. Apparently when it comes to international law or inconvenience, we toss that rule aside. All Syria has to do to save themselves is sign the confession. No problem.
Anyone want to place bets that Iran starts getting the stink eye next?
In their best efforts to prove the arm-chair conspiracy theorists right, the US is now looking at Syria all twitchy. Just this morning I heard the first rumblings about Syria having chemical weapons. Lest we forget that about a month ago, the Pentagon assured us that Iraq is stocked to the gills with WoMD, yet these weapons have made no appearances during the conflict, and every report that something had been found has turned out to be a false alarm. Sooner or later something WILL turn up, the foreign press is really leaning on this issue now, so something is going to have to be found. But as things progress, I bet we can all just forget about those ties the White House insisted existed between Hussein and Bin laden. With the palaces levelled and Saddam atomized, the evidence will be declared too confusing and lost to history. Already those things are swept beneath the rug. Now it's going to be all about getting US MIA's and POWs home, which is a good thing, but the fighting has not yet ceased.
It also appears Saddam should have been sending his interior decorator to the firing squad instead of wasting his time with all of those dissidents. From the sounds of it, Saddam was into a little kink and Boris Vallejo art, or else had his D&D playing nephew with the problem getting dates to do his living room. One wonders what further treasure troves of questionable taste our GI's will continue to uncover?
Rumsfeld must be rolling on the floor of the Pentagon proclaiming he saw Goody Syria with the devil. Now we're told Syria has weapons, and, no doubt, will be shown to be the magician with the pack of cards up it's sleeve. Waving absolutely zero evidence in front of the media, and tossing in those all-too-familiar terms of "terrorism" and "Weapons of mass destruction", the State Department and Pentagon are looking for the sort of bare-ass-in-the-air cooperation that they will later insist means nothing unless we use some Sherman tanks to check it out for ourselves. Powell is looking at sanctions against the Syrians (probably because sanctions elicited such a swift response from Saddam & crew), and has taken to playing the Reverend Hale to Syria's John Proctor. Syria will have to prove they have no ties to terrorism and no weapons, which is, of course, as realistic and sensible as tossing yourself off a cliff to prove you can't fly and are therefore not a witch. This very problem is why we generally operate under the rule that burden of proof is on the accuser. Apparently when it comes to international law or inconvenience, we toss that rule aside. All Syria has to do to save themselves is sign the confession. No problem.
Anyone want to place bets that Iran starts getting the stink eye next?
Sunday, April 13, 2003
For year three in a row I did not fulfill my one birthday wish to kick back and watch The Searchers. I don't know why I express this is my one goal every birthday. I suppose it's because watching The Searchers is the one thing nobody else I know will want to do. Theres' something vaguely empowering about forcing others into your corner just because it's your birthday, but the fact that I STILL have not gotten top watch my movie should be evidence enough that I'm still not getting my way. But this year, that was nobody's fault but my own.
Anyway, I head off for my 29th revolution around El Sol, visors down and teeth bared to the wind, and maybe this is the year I seize control of Spaceship Earth.
Anyway, I head off for my 29th revolution around El Sol, visors down and teeth bared to the wind, and maybe this is the year I seize control of Spaceship Earth.
Saturday, April 12, 2003
Happy Birthday to me. Today I am 28. This gives me a moment of pause.
I promised myself when I reached college that by 30, I would have rung up nearly $500K in debt, be living on a boat, and routinely be snorting cocaine off the buttocks of strippers. Unless I really get cracking, I'm not sure how this is going to happen.
I promised myself when I reached college that by 30, I would have rung up nearly $500K in debt, be living on a boat, and routinely be snorting cocaine off the buttocks of strippers. Unless I really get cracking, I'm not sure how this is going to happen.
Friday, April 11, 2003
TTSNB
Wow. There's a market out there for everything. I thought the cartoony duke boys from a few days ago were a little weird. What I guess I find all the more odd are the people who wax nostalgic over slasher movies. Friday the 13th and it's progeny are formulaic and gross and really, not all that much fun when you're over the age of 12 and realize co-eds really do get cut up, and it's not cute and funny. But someboy must like this stuff. But is it an appropriate snow globe to place alongside your Tower of London snow globe and that one from Hannibal, Missouri?
Wow. There's a market out there for everything. I thought the cartoony duke boys from a few days ago were a little weird. What I guess I find all the more odd are the people who wax nostalgic over slasher movies. Friday the 13th and it's progeny are formulaic and gross and really, not all that much fun when you're over the age of 12 and realize co-eds really do get cut up, and it's not cute and funny. But someboy must like this stuff. But is it an appropriate snow globe to place alongside your Tower of London snow globe and that one from Hannibal, Missouri?
Thursday, April 10, 2003
Wow. Yesterday was kind of crazy with Baghdad falling and all. I was getting my lunch at a great place (Bento Bar) here in Tempe when I saw on Keith's TV an image of Iraqi's pulling down the statue of Saddam Hussein. Whether you are for or against Bush's methodology in initiating the war, you have to be a little glad Saddam is gone. Unless you're Saddam. And if you're Saddam and you're reading this, fuck you, man.
One wonders what the hell is going to happen now in a nation under serious suppression for 30 years. We know there are many rival factions in Iraq, not to mention the Turks tend to get twitchy around the Kurds, and there's some sort of Iraqi group that's been in exile and training soldiers for the past few years. In no way am I suggesting things were better under Saddam, but as democracy hasn't exactly been the order of the day in Iraq since... ever, one wonders how all of this will shake out. My co-worker suggested making them the 51st state just to see what would happen. Yes, he was kidding, but at one time, this was pretty much British policy, wasn't it? Only India didn't exactly have folks sitting in Parliament, if I remember my history correctly.
I keep playing with the idea of a weekly comic book review in order to promote comic book readership. I'd take a look at graphic novels, collected editions and regular monthly series. While the entire Universe for me may consist of Superman (and Melbotis, who is doing well, thank you), there are other comic books out there.
One wonders what the hell is going to happen now in a nation under serious suppression for 30 years. We know there are many rival factions in Iraq, not to mention the Turks tend to get twitchy around the Kurds, and there's some sort of Iraqi group that's been in exile and training soldiers for the past few years. In no way am I suggesting things were better under Saddam, but as democracy hasn't exactly been the order of the day in Iraq since... ever, one wonders how all of this will shake out. My co-worker suggested making them the 51st state just to see what would happen. Yes, he was kidding, but at one time, this was pretty much British policy, wasn't it? Only India didn't exactly have folks sitting in Parliament, if I remember my history correctly.
I keep playing with the idea of a weekly comic book review in order to promote comic book readership. I'd take a look at graphic novels, collected editions and regular monthly series. While the entire Universe for me may consist of Superman (and Melbotis, who is doing well, thank you), there are other comic books out there.
Wednesday, April 09, 2003
Toys That Should Not Be:
I've been slacking on this, in what was once my e-mail forum, but this is where, henceforth, I shall be displaying all Toys That Should Not Be.
While not technically a toy, I still felt these, uh... things, were worthy of note. Is anyone really longing for cartoonishly inaccurate Duke Boys?
I think what makes these all the more bizarre, aside from the fact that they're being offered 15 years after they might even have any kitschy relevance, is that they're actually very expensive and are being sold as a limited run. Possibly someone selling these things realized they'd be lucky to move 1500 of each of these ridiculous things. Even guessing that 1% of 1% of the American populace would shell out any money, let alone the $80 price tag they've heaped on these things, means someone is an optimist in the least profitable way.
I've been slacking on this, in what was once my e-mail forum, but this is where, henceforth, I shall be displaying all Toys That Should Not Be.
While not technically a toy, I still felt these, uh... things, were worthy of note. Is anyone really longing for cartoonishly inaccurate Duke Boys?
I think what makes these all the more bizarre, aside from the fact that they're being offered 15 years after they might even have any kitschy relevance, is that they're actually very expensive and are being sold as a limited run. Possibly someone selling these things realized they'd be lucky to move 1500 of each of these ridiculous things. Even guessing that 1% of 1% of the American populace would shell out any money, let alone the $80 price tag they've heaped on these things, means someone is an optimist in the least profitable way.
Tuesday, April 08, 2003
Hey kids. Well, I accidentally erased everything, but you can thank your lucky stars that Jim D. had my back. I'll fix some of this later, but for now this is a quick dump to the re-formatted version of League of Melbotis.
More to come
More to come
Friday, April 04, 2003
this is my cat and my wife
this is Melbotis and me
up ahead.... The Thing...
posted by Ryan at 4:12 PM
Here's something you probably forgot all about.
posted by Ryan at 8:57 AM
Thursday, April 03, 2003
Arrgghhh... those reading this can't tell, but I am an absolutely rotten typist and am working to amend that problem. Every time I post, I swear I spend twice as much time editing as I do writing. I'm usually fixing grammatical errors (of which I leave in many prime examples, such as this one) and spelling and punctuation errors, although sometimes I realize I never finished a thought and have to go in and fill in the blanks. I am certainly no perfectionist, but I don't want to be just sloppy either.
I recently purchased The Day the Earth Stood Still on DVD. I didn't make it more than half the movie before I turned it off. These days it's hitting a bit close to home. I kind of wish Michael Renni would show up in a silver jump suit and dictate global policy. I'm not sure a re-make would do this movie justice as it was directed in it's time by Robert Wise, current President of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, and director of The Sound of Music. Go figure.
Action Comics #802 came out on Wednesday. Lots of Zod and Luthor, picking up in a far more interesting direction than where I assumed this story would go. Check out the art. It looks good past the Darwyn Cook cover. I don't know who this Derenick guy is, but he's really good in a Jim Lee sort of way. That's not to say Darwyn doesn't do a good job, but he's got a unique style which some folks might not be into. Just keep in mind that is not the same art that's inside the cover (I would assume the artist was too busy putting out these great-looking pages and ran out of time for nice covers) if you're standing at the spinner-rack at Borders.
Speaking of Jim Lee, the best looking Batman stories in a looonnnggg time are happening over in Batman comics, with Jeph Loeb writing, so look for it. Jeph Loeb wrote some great Batman specials in years past (The Long Halloween, Dark Victory) and recently wrapped up on Superman. He's also a writer on the WB'S Smallville, so the man gets around.
Kudos to Jim D. for the big box of Superman comics he sent me that he'd saved from his youth. I'm just really reading them now, and they're a big heap o' fun and in great condition. My one beef is that there are a lot of #1 issues here, and I have no idea what happens after any of these #1's. Now I have to go look for back issues.
I am so tired, I am going to bed, but I hope someone is reading this. If they are, and they are not my lovely wife, let me know.
posted by Ryan at 11:26 PM
Wednesday, April 02, 2003
The anti-christ walks among us.
posted by Ryan at 10:25 PM
Tragedy in Metropolis! A special report
Some people are just jerks. And the rest of us just take some things far too seriously that we should not.
I'm not referring to that wise-cracking Saddam. No, a crime of questionable proportion has been perpetrated upon the people of the non-fictional town of Metropolis, Illinois. Metropolis is a hamlet located in the southern part of Illinois where the spirit of Superman has become lifestyle and commerce. In order to drum up industry and tourism, Metropolis has gone ahead and run with the whole Superman theme. Strange, but true.
DC Comics has officially dubbed Metropolis the Home of Superman. Metropolis is a bizarre little corner of America where all things Superman come to life: the Superman Museum is located (I believe) in the town square, city hall used to give out Kryptonite rocks to kids (to help keep them out of Luthor's hands!), and the Metropolis paper is actually now called The Planet. Every year Metropolis holds a Superman Celebration which is attended by, reportedly, tens of people. Such stars as Jack Larson (Jimmy Olsen) and Noel Neill (Lois Lane) and Sarah Douglas (Ursa) regularly attend the festival. For years I've dreamt of visiting Metropolis for the festival, but, to be honest, I think after about three hours it would be kind of weird. And that's a long way to go for a couple of awkward hours of fat men in Superman shirts.
At the center of the town square stands (or stood) a 15 foot bronze statue of Superman with the words "Truth, Justice and the American Way" emblazoned upon the base. I would assume as an April Fools joke, somebody took it upon themselves to liberate the Superman statue. A semi-official version of events can be found here.
I wish the people of Metropolis godspeed in finding their statue. Some townsfolk are now suggesting the Celebration cannot go on if the statue is not found, or is found in a state of disrepair. Metropolis is not a huge town with tax dollars enough to spend money on repairing the statue or building a new one, and as I understand it, the Celebration is a bit of a boon to their economy.
I hope those who performed this villainous deed are happy with themselves. They've probably made little Kal-El cry.
posted by Ryan at 10:59 AM
Tuesday, April 01, 2003
This brave little lass shows us what it means to be a patriot in these troubled times.
On my super-extended drive home tonight, it struck me that in 20 years, somebody is going to try to bring back American Idol. If we're willing to bring back Star Search, which was a little embarassing when it was originally on, surely we'll want to trot out this format again. I can almost imagine Mary Hart interviewing Simon Cowell in an era when the Jihad has actually succeeded and we're all kind of Muslim. Someone is going to do this, and I want 20 space-bucks when it happens, because I will have predicted it.
What with a war on, and a sloberringly insane North Korea on our plate in addition to several million irritated Frenchmen, the world has become a dark place. But I think I may have found the salve. If you're having some bleak, bleak thoughts about current events, I highly, highly suggest you enjoy this page . For a more direct dose of it all, for those of you with a high-end connection, go here and have your spirits renewed.
Jim D suggested a new name for this Blog: The Unbearable Lightness of Steans
I'm not against it. I'm still kicking the suggestion around, but just when I was thinking of implementing it, Dan P of Austin suggested I adopt the name Axis of Steans. For now I'm sticking with a pro-Melbotis format.
Also, check out this.
posted by Ryan at 9:12 PM
this is just funny.
***update***
As of 7:00am Arizona time (we are neither Mountain, nor Pacific... you can't bring us DOWN!!!) Corey (Shut up, Corey) Clark has been booted from American Idol. I know that Jamie and I will be watching in rapt attention this evening to see what Simon will say! What is up with Corey's outfit in that photo? He looks like the world's worst cat burglar.
posted by Ryan at 2:58 PM
I had posted this last night very briefly, and in that time, Jim managed to send me this article, which I find interesting. Review at your leisure. I'm not sure I agree with what the author of this article says in it's entirety, but here at League of Melbotis, there are no stupid ideas, only stupid me.
Below is what I originally said:
I'm a fan of objectivity in my journalism. I am aware that from a truly critical stand-point, no person can truly be objective. I am also aware that a pretense of objectivity, is, at it's very heart, deceptive. HOWEVER, the recent trend toward mixing editorialization (thanks Fox News) with actual factual reporting has done some strange things.
I was struck by the oddity of Peter Arnett's release from National Geographic and NBC today. Reporters must now be very careful what they say, and not just in giving away troop movements. Apparently disagreeing with the Pentagon press releases and those sassy generals who take the podium everyday in their desert camouflage (which clashes very badly with that "we're on CNN!" backdrop) is a BIG no-no. Is Arnett wrong to perform this interview anymore than the American press whom have volunteered to be mouthpieces for the US military by embedding themselves into army units? The question arises: when CAN reporters be blunt about their assesment if it does not coincide with the objectives of the US government powers-that-be? This is not a question of a Dixie Chick trash talking in London, this is a very seasoned journalist with a front row seat being asked to recant his observations, and STILL paying the price with his job. Is Christiane Amanpour required to regurgitate the press releases generated from Virginia when she's sitting in Kuwait, lest she be removed from the airwaves?
I don't know, but I do know I find the control of information and number of coerced public apologies cropping up lately a bit disturbing. The news media's collusion in this and their adoption of "if you're not with us, you're against us" smacks of that fun term I don't get to use often enough.. Neo-McCarthyism! How do we recognize when we've crossed that fine line in protecting ourselves?
posted by Ryan at 8:32 AM
Monday, March 31, 2003
I wasn't planning on adding anything else, but what the hell is wrong down at Fox?
Corey "Shut up, Corey" Clark, one of American Idol's final 9 contestants apparently spent last fall beating up his sister and some cops. I realize the producers of American Idol are very busy people, but is a criminal background check THAT complicated? Read the article to understand what I mean.
I watch a fair amount of American Idol. My wife is enamored with the show, but as she tolerates my adoration of all things Superman, I let this little fault slide. Last summer, I dubbed Kelly Clarkson a pie-faced dweeb, and I guarantee you, America, when her stupid movie with Justin Guarini is released, you too shall turn on this talentless powder puff. I suspect that Kimberly Caldwell (the girl who has taken Renee Zellweger's line and claimed Katy, TX is a small town and not part of the Houston megalopolis) will be this season's Kelly. She's talentless and blonde, so America's text-voting teen-populace must love her. I mean, they keep buying Mariah Carey albums, so why not this, too?
I myself am a Trenyce man. Go Trenyce.
One could navel gaze endlessly about why so many tune into "unscripted" television (and I suspect multiple blogs do so, because the press likes to talk about that more than obesity), but the truth is this: We've already seen every scripted show in prime time. I mean, has it not occured to the Powers That Be that after 10 seasons on the air, Law and Order might have already run out of ideas? No. Rather, we've added 15 other Law and Order shows, and what the hell happened to Dragnet? Is it even on anymore?
We've seen all the shows that people would actually believe in a fictional context, so now we require Fear Factor to display that Miss USA WILL eat pig testicles for her favorite charity. I mean, it doesn't make for a good episode of the Golden Girls, but the "Oh, sweet Christ, no!" factor is undeniable.
After how many seasons of Jerry and 15 runs of Survivor, people still do not realize that only 1 in a thousand reality television show contestants actually go onto other things. Can you name even 7 of the final 10 contestants from American Idol last season? Probably not, and millions watched the show. And so the program draws in contestants like Corey "Shut up, Corey" Clark, Cop Fighter!
I wouldn't suggest that one NOT watch these shows, I mean, the alternative is Yes, Dear and According to Jim, for God's sake, but keep in mind that every one of these contestants is as dumb as a post and unemployable enough that they have TIME to not work for a month of shooting. Just remember that when you put that pie-faced dweeb, Kimberly Caldwell up on a pedastal. And if ANYONE buys the Kelly Clarkson CD and can PROVE they're still listening to it regularly in two months, I will send them $100.
I think the most original scripted program on the air today is probably Invader Zim, and that may be only because I've seen only a handful of episodes.
posted by Ryan at 10:43 PM
jdedman4: any blog topics tonight?
Steanz: My insecurity in putting up a blog
jdedman4: self referential, that's good
Steanz: well, it is a little weird, i think
jdedman4: that is what blogging is about
Steanz: anyway, it'll be up before 10pm
jdedman4: obsevations on life/culture with odd personal tidbits
jdedman4: part commentary / part voyeurism
I'm going through a period of self-doubt about the very notion of this (or any other) blog. Specifically, I'm uncomfortable with anyone reading the text I might put online, especially given that I agreed to begin this blog as a one-man forum (which is what?) to espouse a dissenting slant on political/ whatever issues as put forth by an associate of mine. I would suggest it is only my own hubris which allowed me to originally begin this blog for the above stated purpose. I'm usually ill-informed and prone to knee-jerk sentiment, all of which makes most of this a waste of valuable internet real-estate. By assuming that others would wish to actually spend their valuable time perusing this blog (journal? chronicle? steaming pile of crap?), am I indulging in the most narcissistic behavior since I was 8 and put my own face on a novelty t-shirt which I proudly wore for the better part of a year? No, there are no photos, so don't ask.
The whole thing has an ugly Reality TV-contestant vibe. By virtue of even creating a posting, I am demanding the attention of others with this digital soapbox, yet I am neither talented nor good looking enough to get my own show based on any true merit. Cyberspace (for lack of a better geographic description) is a very, very big place, and I would suspect that virtually no one, including family and friends, who has received the link to this site, will ever click on the link to the blog after an initial inspection. This is both liberating and somewhat ego-crushing. Of course it would be nice to think the sound and fury means something, but let's be realistic.
That said, tonight I am tired. It was a long day down at the salt mines. I'd rather not go into it here because even Jamie looked a little bored with my tales of woe.
Melbotis has a friend who lives on the other side of our cinder-block fence (all fences in Chandler are made of cinder-block). He's some sort of whte dog with some pit bull in him, I think. Every night when I let Mel out to go and enjoy the back yard we maintain so very nicely for him, he goes to the corner behind the lime tree and barks. Eventually his friend jumps up on the fence, leans over the very top of it, barks once or twice, and then falls back on his side of the fence. The white dog will do this all day. Jump, bark, fall. Mel has to do very, very little to participate but bark back. Mel is also fairly overweight and incapable of getting in the Subaru without a little assistance, so to expect much out of him as part of this game is probably unrealistic.
posted by Ryan at 8:44 PM
Sunday, March 30, 2003
Greetings and welcome to the League of Melbotis weblog. For those of you NOT in the know, Melbotis is my dog. He's a good boy and he knows absolutely no tricks. Melbotis was not always my dog, he used to live with Jenny Perkins, so if I ever track her down, I have to give credit to her diligence in bringing up such a fine dog.
This weekend I was told to create a blog by Jim Tiberius Dedman of www.jdedman.com I suggest you check out the link. Usually it's a really good site, unless he doesn't update it, but he does that very regularly.
Jim's a good guy, and against my better judgement, I've known him for several years. Anyway, I think his intention was that I blog to create some sort of dialogue about political matters. That's fine. I'm not sure how many people want to hear my side, but it seems better than generating e-mail or trying to keep up with Jimbo on AIM. It turns out that Jim types faster than me.
I'm currently living in Chandler, Arizona, which is a bedroom community about 30-40 minutes from the airport, but still considered to be in the Phoenix metroplex. I'm more or less from Austin, Texas, and I miss Guero's and Rudy's like some folks might miss an arm or foot.
In order to entertain myself out here in the desert, I read a lot of Superman comics, watch Monster Garage, and try to keep the pets entertained. Lately, I've been watching the war footage and shrieking in horror. Bombs make me nervous, even bombs far, far away, so I've decided that today I will not venture into man's inhumanity to man as a topic. Thus, I will keep my comments about Scottsdale brief.
This weekend Jamie and I attended the Tempe Arts Festival.
Scottsdale is North of Tempe, but apparently not far enough away. It's a place where really hideous rich people go to freak out and buy cars bigger than mine, leaving me insanely jealous. The citizens of Scottsdale descend on things like the Tempe Arts Festival in terrible pastels and with strollers full of kids named "Austin" and "Tyler" and "Britney". Their purchasing power has created an environment where its apparently impossible to sell or show anything resembling art at the arts fair. I'm not one who believes in high or low art, but I'm pretty sure that putting sequins on a denim skirt to look like a kitty does not qualify as even the dumbest of folkart. Nothing made with a machine bought from RonCo counts as art. Patrick Nagel fans take heed.
In investigating the tents set up along the way, I discovered that all you need to do to participate in the Tempe Arts fest is to have $400 to rent out a space, get a tent, and procure some crappy faux-Native American art, like a clay bowl or something. There are other objects'd'arte (sp?), like cuh-razy pictures of dogs and cats, and Henna art for mommies who are trying to remember when they were crazy, pissed-off undergrads. Anyway, it was a bit of a letdown. And too many pan flutes. Far too many pan flutes.
The art fair made me wonder what all the millions of art majors are doing once they graduate from college. Are they all at these fairs hawking rusted copper yard ornaments in the shapes of kitties? I don't know where the art majors go, but I suspect they end up doing tech support at Dell. That's what I think us failed film majors are up to.
In the end, I did get a bag of cinammon roasted almonds, which made the trip actually not seem completely wasted.
Jamie (the little lady) and I took Melbotis to the park on Saturday. It was a fine time and we flew the Justice League kite I bought at the gas station for $2.50. Given the price I paid to see XXX, I think the $2,50 was a much better investment. Typical of Chandler, Tumbleweed Park is a sprawling grass something or other watered by sewage, an investment of millions of dollars, and completely devoid of any actual patrons. Well, this week there was a children's birthday party going down, but instead of using the acres and acres of grass and park, the parents had rented a moonbounce. All the kids out here rent moonbounces on their birthdays. Every Saturday there's one of these atrocities sticking up over somebody's cinder-block fence, accompanied by the shrill partying of seven year olds.
I do occasionally enjoy the punch drunk feeling of thirty minutes in the Arizona sunshine. I miss Central Texas sunshine more, but Arizona does have a few good things. Anyway, the park is a good thing, and I secretly hope nobody ever finds it. Melbotis and I like it a lot. We hope to spend many more Saturdays there before people come in and ruin our public park. My goal now is to teach Mel to carry the ball all the way back to the car by himself.
No political commentary here, per se. Maybe next time. Anyway, I hope this is okay.
posted by Ryan at 8:18 PM
Greetings, mortals. This is my very, very first post to this blog. Jim Dedman is a weenie.
posted by Ryan at 10:29 AM
this is my cat and my wife
this is Melbotis and me
up ahead.... The Thing...
posted by Ryan at 4:12 PM
Here's something you probably forgot all about.
posted by Ryan at 8:57 AM
Thursday, April 03, 2003
Arrgghhh... those reading this can't tell, but I am an absolutely rotten typist and am working to amend that problem. Every time I post, I swear I spend twice as much time editing as I do writing. I'm usually fixing grammatical errors (of which I leave in many prime examples, such as this one) and spelling and punctuation errors, although sometimes I realize I never finished a thought and have to go in and fill in the blanks. I am certainly no perfectionist, but I don't want to be just sloppy either.
I recently purchased The Day the Earth Stood Still on DVD. I didn't make it more than half the movie before I turned it off. These days it's hitting a bit close to home. I kind of wish Michael Renni would show up in a silver jump suit and dictate global policy. I'm not sure a re-make would do this movie justice as it was directed in it's time by Robert Wise, current President of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, and director of The Sound of Music. Go figure.
Action Comics #802 came out on Wednesday. Lots of Zod and Luthor, picking up in a far more interesting direction than where I assumed this story would go. Check out the art. It looks good past the Darwyn Cook cover. I don't know who this Derenick guy is, but he's really good in a Jim Lee sort of way. That's not to say Darwyn doesn't do a good job, but he's got a unique style which some folks might not be into. Just keep in mind that is not the same art that's inside the cover (I would assume the artist was too busy putting out these great-looking pages and ran out of time for nice covers) if you're standing at the spinner-rack at Borders.
Speaking of Jim Lee, the best looking Batman stories in a looonnnggg time are happening over in Batman comics, with Jeph Loeb writing, so look for it. Jeph Loeb wrote some great Batman specials in years past (The Long Halloween, Dark Victory) and recently wrapped up on Superman. He's also a writer on the WB'S Smallville, so the man gets around.
Kudos to Jim D. for the big box of Superman comics he sent me that he'd saved from his youth. I'm just really reading them now, and they're a big heap o' fun and in great condition. My one beef is that there are a lot of #1 issues here, and I have no idea what happens after any of these #1's. Now I have to go look for back issues.
I am so tired, I am going to bed, but I hope someone is reading this. If they are, and they are not my lovely wife, let me know.
posted by Ryan at 11:26 PM
Wednesday, April 02, 2003
The anti-christ walks among us.
posted by Ryan at 10:25 PM
Tragedy in Metropolis! A special report
Some people are just jerks. And the rest of us just take some things far too seriously that we should not.
I'm not referring to that wise-cracking Saddam. No, a crime of questionable proportion has been perpetrated upon the people of the non-fictional town of Metropolis, Illinois. Metropolis is a hamlet located in the southern part of Illinois where the spirit of Superman has become lifestyle and commerce. In order to drum up industry and tourism, Metropolis has gone ahead and run with the whole Superman theme. Strange, but true.
DC Comics has officially dubbed Metropolis the Home of Superman. Metropolis is a bizarre little corner of America where all things Superman come to life: the Superman Museum is located (I believe) in the town square, city hall used to give out Kryptonite rocks to kids (to help keep them out of Luthor's hands!), and the Metropolis paper is actually now called The Planet. Every year Metropolis holds a Superman Celebration which is attended by, reportedly, tens of people. Such stars as Jack Larson (Jimmy Olsen) and Noel Neill (Lois Lane) and Sarah Douglas (Ursa) regularly attend the festival. For years I've dreamt of visiting Metropolis for the festival, but, to be honest, I think after about three hours it would be kind of weird. And that's a long way to go for a couple of awkward hours of fat men in Superman shirts.
At the center of the town square stands (or stood) a 15 foot bronze statue of Superman with the words "Truth, Justice and the American Way" emblazoned upon the base. I would assume as an April Fools joke, somebody took it upon themselves to liberate the Superman statue. A semi-official version of events can be found here.
I wish the people of Metropolis godspeed in finding their statue. Some townsfolk are now suggesting the Celebration cannot go on if the statue is not found, or is found in a state of disrepair. Metropolis is not a huge town with tax dollars enough to spend money on repairing the statue or building a new one, and as I understand it, the Celebration is a bit of a boon to their economy.
I hope those who performed this villainous deed are happy with themselves. They've probably made little Kal-El cry.
posted by Ryan at 10:59 AM
Tuesday, April 01, 2003
This brave little lass shows us what it means to be a patriot in these troubled times.
On my super-extended drive home tonight, it struck me that in 20 years, somebody is going to try to bring back American Idol. If we're willing to bring back Star Search, which was a little embarassing when it was originally on, surely we'll want to trot out this format again. I can almost imagine Mary Hart interviewing Simon Cowell in an era when the Jihad has actually succeeded and we're all kind of Muslim. Someone is going to do this, and I want 20 space-bucks when it happens, because I will have predicted it.
What with a war on, and a sloberringly insane North Korea on our plate in addition to several million irritated Frenchmen, the world has become a dark place. But I think I may have found the salve. If you're having some bleak, bleak thoughts about current events, I highly, highly suggest you enjoy this page . For a more direct dose of it all, for those of you with a high-end connection, go here and have your spirits renewed.
Jim D suggested a new name for this Blog: The Unbearable Lightness of Steans
I'm not against it. I'm still kicking the suggestion around, but just when I was thinking of implementing it, Dan P of Austin suggested I adopt the name Axis of Steans. For now I'm sticking with a pro-Melbotis format.
Also, check out this.
posted by Ryan at 9:12 PM
this is just funny.
***update***
As of 7:00am Arizona time (we are neither Mountain, nor Pacific... you can't bring us DOWN!!!) Corey (Shut up, Corey) Clark has been booted from American Idol. I know that Jamie and I will be watching in rapt attention this evening to see what Simon will say! What is up with Corey's outfit in that photo? He looks like the world's worst cat burglar.
posted by Ryan at 2:58 PM
I had posted this last night very briefly, and in that time, Jim managed to send me this article, which I find interesting. Review at your leisure. I'm not sure I agree with what the author of this article says in it's entirety, but here at League of Melbotis, there are no stupid ideas, only stupid me.
Below is what I originally said:
I'm a fan of objectivity in my journalism. I am aware that from a truly critical stand-point, no person can truly be objective. I am also aware that a pretense of objectivity, is, at it's very heart, deceptive. HOWEVER, the recent trend toward mixing editorialization (thanks Fox News) with actual factual reporting has done some strange things.
I was struck by the oddity of Peter Arnett's release from National Geographic and NBC today. Reporters must now be very careful what they say, and not just in giving away troop movements. Apparently disagreeing with the Pentagon press releases and those sassy generals who take the podium everyday in their desert camouflage (which clashes very badly with that "we're on CNN!" backdrop) is a BIG no-no. Is Arnett wrong to perform this interview anymore than the American press whom have volunteered to be mouthpieces for the US military by embedding themselves into army units? The question arises: when CAN reporters be blunt about their assesment if it does not coincide with the objectives of the US government powers-that-be? This is not a question of a Dixie Chick trash talking in London, this is a very seasoned journalist with a front row seat being asked to recant his observations, and STILL paying the price with his job. Is Christiane Amanpour required to regurgitate the press releases generated from Virginia when she's sitting in Kuwait, lest she be removed from the airwaves?
I don't know, but I do know I find the control of information and number of coerced public apologies cropping up lately a bit disturbing. The news media's collusion in this and their adoption of "if you're not with us, you're against us" smacks of that fun term I don't get to use often enough.. Neo-McCarthyism! How do we recognize when we've crossed that fine line in protecting ourselves?
posted by Ryan at 8:32 AM
Monday, March 31, 2003
I wasn't planning on adding anything else, but what the hell is wrong down at Fox?
Corey "Shut up, Corey" Clark, one of American Idol's final 9 contestants apparently spent last fall beating up his sister and some cops. I realize the producers of American Idol are very busy people, but is a criminal background check THAT complicated? Read the article to understand what I mean.
I watch a fair amount of American Idol. My wife is enamored with the show, but as she tolerates my adoration of all things Superman, I let this little fault slide. Last summer, I dubbed Kelly Clarkson a pie-faced dweeb, and I guarantee you, America, when her stupid movie with Justin Guarini is released, you too shall turn on this talentless powder puff. I suspect that Kimberly Caldwell (the girl who has taken Renee Zellweger's line and claimed Katy, TX is a small town and not part of the Houston megalopolis) will be this season's Kelly. She's talentless and blonde, so America's text-voting teen-populace must love her. I mean, they keep buying Mariah Carey albums, so why not this, too?
I myself am a Trenyce man. Go Trenyce.
One could navel gaze endlessly about why so many tune into "unscripted" television (and I suspect multiple blogs do so, because the press likes to talk about that more than obesity), but the truth is this: We've already seen every scripted show in prime time. I mean, has it not occured to the Powers That Be that after 10 seasons on the air, Law and Order might have already run out of ideas? No. Rather, we've added 15 other Law and Order shows, and what the hell happened to Dragnet? Is it even on anymore?
We've seen all the shows that people would actually believe in a fictional context, so now we require Fear Factor to display that Miss USA WILL eat pig testicles for her favorite charity. I mean, it doesn't make for a good episode of the Golden Girls, but the "Oh, sweet Christ, no!" factor is undeniable.
After how many seasons of Jerry and 15 runs of Survivor, people still do not realize that only 1 in a thousand reality television show contestants actually go onto other things. Can you name even 7 of the final 10 contestants from American Idol last season? Probably not, and millions watched the show. And so the program draws in contestants like Corey "Shut up, Corey" Clark, Cop Fighter!
I wouldn't suggest that one NOT watch these shows, I mean, the alternative is Yes, Dear and According to Jim, for God's sake, but keep in mind that every one of these contestants is as dumb as a post and unemployable enough that they have TIME to not work for a month of shooting. Just remember that when you put that pie-faced dweeb, Kimberly Caldwell up on a pedastal. And if ANYONE buys the Kelly Clarkson CD and can PROVE they're still listening to it regularly in two months, I will send them $100.
I think the most original scripted program on the air today is probably Invader Zim, and that may be only because I've seen only a handful of episodes.
posted by Ryan at 10:43 PM
jdedman4: any blog topics tonight?
Steanz: My insecurity in putting up a blog
jdedman4: self referential, that's good
Steanz: well, it is a little weird, i think
jdedman4: that is what blogging is about
Steanz: anyway, it'll be up before 10pm
jdedman4: obsevations on life/culture with odd personal tidbits
jdedman4: part commentary / part voyeurism
I'm going through a period of self-doubt about the very notion of this (or any other) blog. Specifically, I'm uncomfortable with anyone reading the text I might put online, especially given that I agreed to begin this blog as a one-man forum (which is what?) to espouse a dissenting slant on political/ whatever issues as put forth by an associate of mine. I would suggest it is only my own hubris which allowed me to originally begin this blog for the above stated purpose. I'm usually ill-informed and prone to knee-jerk sentiment, all of which makes most of this a waste of valuable internet real-estate. By assuming that others would wish to actually spend their valuable time perusing this blog (journal? chronicle? steaming pile of crap?), am I indulging in the most narcissistic behavior since I was 8 and put my own face on a novelty t-shirt which I proudly wore for the better part of a year? No, there are no photos, so don't ask.
The whole thing has an ugly Reality TV-contestant vibe. By virtue of even creating a posting, I am demanding the attention of others with this digital soapbox, yet I am neither talented nor good looking enough to get my own show based on any true merit. Cyberspace (for lack of a better geographic description) is a very, very big place, and I would suspect that virtually no one, including family and friends, who has received the link to this site, will ever click on the link to the blog after an initial inspection. This is both liberating and somewhat ego-crushing. Of course it would be nice to think the sound and fury means something, but let's be realistic.
That said, tonight I am tired. It was a long day down at the salt mines. I'd rather not go into it here because even Jamie looked a little bored with my tales of woe.
Melbotis has a friend who lives on the other side of our cinder-block fence (all fences in Chandler are made of cinder-block). He's some sort of whte dog with some pit bull in him, I think. Every night when I let Mel out to go and enjoy the back yard we maintain so very nicely for him, he goes to the corner behind the lime tree and barks. Eventually his friend jumps up on the fence, leans over the very top of it, barks once or twice, and then falls back on his side of the fence. The white dog will do this all day. Jump, bark, fall. Mel has to do very, very little to participate but bark back. Mel is also fairly overweight and incapable of getting in the Subaru without a little assistance, so to expect much out of him as part of this game is probably unrealistic.
posted by Ryan at 8:44 PM
Sunday, March 30, 2003
Greetings and welcome to the League of Melbotis weblog. For those of you NOT in the know, Melbotis is my dog. He's a good boy and he knows absolutely no tricks. Melbotis was not always my dog, he used to live with Jenny Perkins, so if I ever track her down, I have to give credit to her diligence in bringing up such a fine dog.
This weekend I was told to create a blog by Jim Tiberius Dedman of www.jdedman.com I suggest you check out the link. Usually it's a really good site, unless he doesn't update it, but he does that very regularly.
Jim's a good guy, and against my better judgement, I've known him for several years. Anyway, I think his intention was that I blog to create some sort of dialogue about political matters. That's fine. I'm not sure how many people want to hear my side, but it seems better than generating e-mail or trying to keep up with Jimbo on AIM. It turns out that Jim types faster than me.
I'm currently living in Chandler, Arizona, which is a bedroom community about 30-40 minutes from the airport, but still considered to be in the Phoenix metroplex. I'm more or less from Austin, Texas, and I miss Guero's and Rudy's like some folks might miss an arm or foot.
In order to entertain myself out here in the desert, I read a lot of Superman comics, watch Monster Garage, and try to keep the pets entertained. Lately, I've been watching the war footage and shrieking in horror. Bombs make me nervous, even bombs far, far away, so I've decided that today I will not venture into man's inhumanity to man as a topic. Thus, I will keep my comments about Scottsdale brief.
This weekend Jamie and I attended the Tempe Arts Festival.
Scottsdale is North of Tempe, but apparently not far enough away. It's a place where really hideous rich people go to freak out and buy cars bigger than mine, leaving me insanely jealous. The citizens of Scottsdale descend on things like the Tempe Arts Festival in terrible pastels and with strollers full of kids named "Austin" and "Tyler" and "Britney". Their purchasing power has created an environment where its apparently impossible to sell or show anything resembling art at the arts fair. I'm not one who believes in high or low art, but I'm pretty sure that putting sequins on a denim skirt to look like a kitty does not qualify as even the dumbest of folkart. Nothing made with a machine bought from RonCo counts as art. Patrick Nagel fans take heed.
In investigating the tents set up along the way, I discovered that all you need to do to participate in the Tempe Arts fest is to have $400 to rent out a space, get a tent, and procure some crappy faux-Native American art, like a clay bowl or something. There are other objects'd'arte (sp?), like cuh-razy pictures of dogs and cats, and Henna art for mommies who are trying to remember when they were crazy, pissed-off undergrads. Anyway, it was a bit of a letdown. And too many pan flutes. Far too many pan flutes.
The art fair made me wonder what all the millions of art majors are doing once they graduate from college. Are they all at these fairs hawking rusted copper yard ornaments in the shapes of kitties? I don't know where the art majors go, but I suspect they end up doing tech support at Dell. That's what I think us failed film majors are up to.
In the end, I did get a bag of cinammon roasted almonds, which made the trip actually not seem completely wasted.
Jamie (the little lady) and I took Melbotis to the park on Saturday. It was a fine time and we flew the Justice League kite I bought at the gas station for $2.50. Given the price I paid to see XXX, I think the $2,50 was a much better investment. Typical of Chandler, Tumbleweed Park is a sprawling grass something or other watered by sewage, an investment of millions of dollars, and completely devoid of any actual patrons. Well, this week there was a children's birthday party going down, but instead of using the acres and acres of grass and park, the parents had rented a moonbounce. All the kids out here rent moonbounces on their birthdays. Every Saturday there's one of these atrocities sticking up over somebody's cinder-block fence, accompanied by the shrill partying of seven year olds.
I do occasionally enjoy the punch drunk feeling of thirty minutes in the Arizona sunshine. I miss Central Texas sunshine more, but Arizona does have a few good things. Anyway, the park is a good thing, and I secretly hope nobody ever finds it. Melbotis and I like it a lot. We hope to spend many more Saturdays there before people come in and ruin our public park. My goal now is to teach Mel to carry the ball all the way back to the car by himself.
No political commentary here, per se. Maybe next time. Anyway, I hope this is okay.
posted by Ryan at 8:18 PM
Greetings, mortals. This is my very, very first post to this blog. Jim Dedman is a weenie.
posted by Ryan at 10:29 AM
Monday, April 07, 2003
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