Hm...I guess a girl's gotta eat. I just caught a commercial for some kind of bed on TV. The Bionic Woman was hawking them. The ad wasn't over the top or anything like that, but it just makes me think...I really liked Lindsay Wagner...I named my cat Jamie Summers. Haven't heard from her in a while. Ah...Lindsay. I didn't think she had much of a career, until I checked out her page on IMDB. OK...girl's having a career. I guess I need the Lifetime Channel.



Of course, she's no Ann Coulter. But then, I've never seen Ann open a can with her fingernail.

Well, I'm bumming. I just found out a friend from high school died. Someone I played ball with. Haven't seen him in a while, but Cheddar called me and told me about the obituary...he's been reading them since high school. So as I'm getting ready to go to the memorial I thought I'd throw up (!) a couple of distractions. Check out:

Longmire Does Romance Novels
The Original Tombstone Generator

Hey you lazy bastard...shovel your steps! Damn!

The last two years I've spent a lot of time going door-to-door campaigning. Mostly for myself, but for others as well. I have a serious working knowledge about doorknobs, sidewalks, etc. It really gave me a serious appreciation for mailcarriers.

Today I did a lit drop for an event that's coming up. Mmmmmmmm...door-to-door in Rochester in February.

Shovel your driveway you fat bastards! If I was your mail carrier you'd be sitting home in the dark because you'd never get your utility bill. Snow/ice on the sidewalk, no mail for you.

That crazy, old bastard is dead.

No, not Hunter Thompson. I don't give a crap about some self-centered, idiot. I'm talking about my man...Gene Scott. Here's my post from last year on good, old Gene.

If there's a god, then it must not be omnipotent. Because you don't take Gene Scott and leave alleged men of god like Fallwell, Robertson & the big O. Or you at least make Ernest Angley's wig spontaneously combust. (If he's such a healer, why can't he conjure up some hair for himself?)

Gene Freakin Scott.

[Thanks to Chris for the heads up. I don't wanna know how you found out.]

From the land of rhetoric comes some "active" democrats who have been shoving George Lakoff's book Don't Think of an Elephant. They don't seem to get it.

I'll start off with a disclaimer...I bought the book. Read it. It's good. He makes some good points and has some good advice. But here's the thing...people who "frame" taxes as an "investment" in roads, schools, hospitals, etc, aren't living paycheck to paycheck. I actually have extra in taxes taken out of my paychecks and I STILL owe $2K! Yep, I don't have a house, kids, etc. Don't have those deductions. And I don't have $2000. But to expect me to not bitch about paying taxes all year...pay extra...then still owe? Sorry, dems...that's not an investment. That's a reeming.

And if you could promise me that my tax money is not going to pay for our illegal invasion of other countries or to pay tools like Armstrong Williams...then I wouldn't bitch. And if my money wasn't being used to make up for the taxes corporations and the criminals who run them don't pay, I wouldn't bitch. Hell, I may even advocate for paying more...no...I wouldn't. I work for a living.

It almost makes one want to go libertarian.

So as I'm going to this useless meeting with an accountant, I'm listening to Air America. By the way, their only good shows are on in the morning. Morning Sedition & Unfiltered have talented radio people. I can tolerate them. They need to put Al Franken on a UPN sitcom and take Randy Rhodes and...I don't know...put one of those red ball gags in her mouth and leave her in the corner. I can't listen to her laugh like a trainable. I dub her "Corky".

Where was I?

Oh, yeah. So on Unfiltered, they have the head of SEIU, Andy Stern. And he's down on the democrats and blaming them for some working people voting for the War Criminal. But his only thought was "that's it". Two parties. Those are your only choices. That's pretty much labor's opnion all around. Locally, the Greens have been doing nothing but backing labor...we walk picket lines, we help organize the labor day parade, we're always there when asked to be...actually, we're not usually asked, we show up anyway. And we continually get shut out when it comes to endorsements or other help.

Don't believe me...you know my boy, Jim has the scoop. I e-mailed that guy and he never replied. Who does he think he is, Ann Coulter?

(Yeah, I know. It's getting old. But I have so little in my life.)

OK...nap time. Then I have to go turn tricks at the bus station to pay my taxes. My new business, Love You Long Time, Inc.

Today's entry is more journal than blog. In fact, it may be like those old Larry King columns in USA Today...though hopefully more entertaining. It may contain an adult situation or two (but nothing juicy, of course).

I don't know if it's the times we live in or if the tides are all messed up or my stars are aligned funky or I did something funky in another life, or I'm just an idiot, but things are weird...and I just don't get people.

With all the things I've been getting involved in lately, I've found myself talking to a lot of people about the most mundane things. And I have to be honest, I'm down with Margaret Cho's old joke: I'd rather just blow someone than talk about the weather. Well, I can't answer to her, but I mean that figuratively. She may be more literal. When I become The All Being, I will outlaw small talk. I know, anti-social. But I'm a good little activist...I'll talk about the weather.

So, as I'm typing this I have CSI Miami on...we're 15 minutes into the show and David Caruso has taken off his sunglasses 5 times...literally. And what's the deal with all these cops with the Columbo-head-tilt thing. I think I've said this before, but it seems to have gotten worse...we reeeaaaaaaly don't need the graphic dead body shots...autopsies, wounds, etc. The FCC is focused on sex & farts, but extreme violence is fine. I'd rather see a fat lesbian orgy on network TV than a mass murder. But that's just me. It's getting to the point where next week will be another special Wiil & Grace...this week, Jack performs his first autopsy. (Insert Gay joke, here)

Oh, and speaking of lesbians. Why do most lesbians have short hair? I was at a meeting tonight and there were two lesbians there - and I know both of them...or of them, anyway. And I like them, they're nice people, committed activists, blah, blah, blah. But as I'm sitting there my mind started wandering...and I just started wondering...is the "do" a symbol of something? I'll have to ask someone. Hold on, let me check....

Nope...there's no www.askalesbian.com.

Back to CSI. I have to admit, Emily Proctor is a hottie. She's no Ann Coulter, but who is?

Ann, you little Republican vixen. I forgave you for not sending me a valentine, but enough is enough. I have dishes piling up so stop this foolishness and get over here. Yeah, I know. You think you're an intellectual. Or maybe you don't...right-wingers are supposed to reject intellectualism. But honey, let's face it. You're a walking, talking, shieking cliche. You are a dumb (fake) blonde. You insist Canada sent troups to Vietnam. You spew dumb-ass shit that no literate person could believe. I've never read your books, but they must have a lot of nice pictures in 'em to have so many dummies buy them.

Annie...you must be tired, having to think of all those big words with that pretty little head of yours. Aren't you tired of Bill Mahr drooling all over you? Come home, Annie. You'll never have to worry about the big, bad smart people making fun of you any more.

Sweet little Annie, I don't think you understand what a sacrifice this is for me. I don't like pompous, lying tramps. I'm more partial to brunettes...real ones. And I'm attracted to smart, funny, independent women who care about others and who have a sense of what people really want. I like women who think critically. I like women with a little meat on their bones. Look at you, girl (see pictures below). As you're making me a sandwich, make yourself one! I don't like mayo, but you should put extra on yours. Lord have mercy, you have Smeagal hands. Do you catch fish with those mitts? But I'm willing to take the bullet for the rest of society. And I have a ton of laundry that needs to be done. Come home, Ann Coulter. Your apron is waiting.

OK...where was I?

Music News!!! Yeah, remember...this site is supposed to be about Whitee & his music. Well, I went to my guitar lesson today, thinking it was a normal day and Robert said, "OK, you ready to record?"

Huh?

Uh, I guess...so we put down a guitar track for the demo for Leftovers of Wayne. I have to say, my guitar playing....well, I think I could hold my own around a campfire of deaf kids with weak hearing aid batteries. No Jimi Thing happening here. So now I get to take that and work on my vocals...which I would relate to...ummmm...Bob Dylan's fourth cousin removed, Phil. Phil Dylan. That's me. Phil Dylan, insurance salesman/bad vocalist. This record is gonna rock!

Holy Crap! I think my head is going to explode. I may end up getting watched by the government for this, but I'm down with Ward Churchill. He was interviewed on Democracy Now on Friday and put into words what I've been trying to say for a while.

While I'm glad he said what he said, it's been frustrating that I haven't been able to put it into a coherent thought on my own.

First of all, if you're paying attention to vibrator or oxycontin addicts then you don't know what the guy said. Check out the transcript of the interview.

Dude's saying that by our (America's) own strategy used by our military, the World Trade Center was an acceptable target by the hijackers. We target public buildings in which our "enemies" have government agencies in. The CIA had offices in the WTC...therefore that was an acceptable target when using our own standards. To say that the behavior is good for us but not for others is hypocritical (even though other words come to mind). You can't impose a standard on the rest of the world and not uphold it yourself. {cough...cough...Stalin...cough...cough}

You know...bomb for peace, take away rights for freedom, that kinda stuff.

Churchill isn't saying that 9/11 was cool, he's just saying that if we continue to do wack shit to other countries, you can't expect others to just sit and take it.

The jist of this is: What the F do you expect? You can't do this crap and not expect casualties. The outrage is that it wasn't poor Amercians' kids going somewhere and dying for rich people. They attacked people with (relative) money and status. That's why they didn't go after a mall or a stadium. You shouldn't be happy it happened, but you shouldn't be surprised, either.

I know some people were pissed at me before by my take on 9/11. Well, I stand by it - even the timing of it. It needed to be said, not just by me, but by more people.

Churchill's the bomb...he put it well...until we put children with brown skin at equal value to children with white skin, things like 9/11 will continue to happen. It's that plain & simple. Read that transcript.

More wack shit.
How 'bout some more.
Not enough?
The Coup de Gras.

Damn! What a lousy Valentine's Day.

First, I found out from a reliable third source that this chick who I've been kind of talking to thinks I'm "annoying, sometimes."

Then, I then get to see a letter sent to the local Green Party from a registered voter (though I'm assuming dude has recently changed) saying how much we suck and called me (personally) a "nonentity". What the fuck is that all about? I guess I should be honored to be singled out.

And to top it all off, Ann Coulter didn't send me a valentine. What's up with that? "And after all the time I've spent holding up her poster with one hand." -Steve Martin

Not a lot of love in the room for Whitee...

I've suddenly become Carl from Caddyshack. Standing around while I have work to do, making obscene proposals under my breath. But it's not to some middle aged golf frau. Nope. I have a specific target in mind.

I don't usually use this blog to speak to a specific person, but in this case I just can't help myself - because I've found my own little "monkey woman". And she is definitely "lean, mean and not too far in between."

Now normally, I'm Dr. Sensitive Guy. Chicks dig me, but as a buddy. It's been frustrating, but I've accepted my lot in life. I grew up around women so I treat them as I want other guys to treat the women in my family. Unfortunately, that's how I get called "chief" a lot, but that's my personality and I don't have the attention span to act like an asshole to attract some skirt.

I like women who are independent, intellegent and can carry a conversation. Oh sure, I like a woman to be a slut in the bedroom (other rooms as well), but she's gotta be able to put a sentence together...have an original thought.

But all that may be changing. I may be coming around to the manly way of life. I have a new love who has sparked an intense interest in the "dumb blonde". Now, my liberal friends may be disappointed - maybe even shocked by this new revelation, but I have to be honest with myself and the public...

Ann Coulter, I want you. I want you, bad.



"Ann...you wore blue so you could hide from me...you're a tramp!"



James Carville, you can have Mary Matlin. You're a loon, anyway. I want Ann. She's everything I don't like in a woman: (fake) blonde, skinny, reactionary, stupid. I think that's why I love her so much. Ann, if you're so down with family values then, god damn it, I want to provide that kind of life for you.



My dearest Ann, I want you to be the red-blooded, American woman you think all the rest of the June Cleavers should be. Ann, I don't want you worrying your pretty little head about such things as who went to Vietnam or writing those big heavy books. That's men's work and you know it!



Oh my darling Ann, I can't wait for the day we can be together. It will be our own little slice of heaven. I'll be at work all day having phone sex with my subordinate and buying her vibrators, while you stay home and raise our 8 Aryan children. Every night, when I'm done drinking with the guys, I'll come home for a home cooked meal and some lovin! And I know you won't be sassin me none, my little cheese danish, because as a good Christian woman, you know your place.

Schnooky lumps, you know I have a Weapon of Mass Destruction just for you. There's an insurgency in my pants that is out of control. Be a good American. Invade me, Ann Coulter.

Uncle Sam Wants You...in mud, appearently.

I support our troops in so much only to get them home...get them out of Iraq. The military culture is different than needing a military. I'm not down with the military culture. The xenophobia, sexism, racism...I'm just not down with it. And there's the other stuff like lying to recruits to fulfil a quota, yada, yada, yada.

There's Guantanimo & Abu Ghraib - Folks...you live in a country that tortures. Your country is no better than a third world dictatorship. Go ahead, get defensive. We can go round and round, but it comes back to love of country. If people who represent your country behave in a manner that is inconsistent to our alleged values, do we ignore it? Honestly, I don't care about people doing this stuff as Americans, I'm more focused on one human doing it to another...my work with Amnesty International shows that.

But now there's this stupid shit:



I can't tell what's more sad, the men or the women. Someone get some pride! I mean, an orgy I'd understand, but this is just stupid.

Then there's this. Some kid's Lego Abu Ghraib. Make sure you look at all the pictures...there's one of the compound, inside the building...and I have students who don't give a crap. Pictures courtesy of Violet Blue.

You have to see the new stuff at our store!

The last couple of days have been kind of surreal. I'll try to give the background info as briefly as I can.

Right now I work nights for an agency that helps kids. They provide a lot of different services. I work in one of the Residential Treatment Centers. So the kids are asleep most of the time I'm there. This agency, which I don't have a very high opinion of, is my go-to place...if I need a job to pay the rent, I can always go back there. I leave on good standing, I'm good at the job - whatever it is I'm doing at the time, and there's always the opportunity to help kids; even though the adults there make it difficult to do so.

One of the cottages/programs that used to be there was for deaf kids. I worked there at 4 different times for a total of maybe 6 years or so. I spent a lot of time in that cottage. I learned a lot about myself, other people and life in general. I experienced just about every emotion possible in that building (yes, even that one).

But I'm a different person since the last time I worked there. Sure, I am back at that agency...working nights...but I've run for public office, twice. Done a lot in the community and am about to (hopefully) make a little change in my life that will take me down a completely different path than I intended.

Well, the agency is renovating buildings on campus and the other night, the people in our cottage were moved, indefinitely, to my old stomping ground. So Friday night I found myself working alone (not counting the sleeping kids) in this place I had spent so much time in, in what seems like a lifetime ago.

The thought of me just going around in one big circle kept popping up, but I know that isn't realistic. It was just an unexpected twist. If a year ago you asked me if I'd be doing overnights in this cottage I would have said you were nuts. I'm not sitting there at night thinking that I'm going nowhere - I know that this overnight gig is a temporary thing to pay the rent while I retool my professional life. But it's just weird walking into that building again. Quick glances at certain things/rooms remind me of people who have been out of my life for a long time.

It would be like going back to your high school to take a class. It's just a little weird.

Hello to all my little Democrat friends...it took a while, but I finally found one of you cats who get it. Finally. Check out this bad boy:









Jim gets it. "I propose that we declare this year's Summer Solstice, Tuesday June 21, 2005, to be Moving Day. Whereupon longtime Democrats such as myself, on one day and en masse, move to a party that has the set of values and principles that the Democrat party not only used to stand for, but used to successfully fight for, both on the legislative floor AND in the hearts and minds of the American people."

"It is time that we joined the Green party, bringing to it the sheer numbers of people it now lacks to wield significant political power, and begin the long journey of creating a world that will be better and sustainable for generations hence."

There's more...click the banner to read the explanation.

This is what I try to tell dems and their eyes glaze over. I think we'll be running with this.

Wow, I hadn't realized I haven't posted since last Thursday. It's probably for the best as I've been continuing along this winter-blues-kinda-path. In the past I probably would have been drinking myself silly, but I've committed myself to so many things right now I don't have the time for such nonsense.

But man, I haven't been the nicest person to be around. I just seem to be more sensitive to the conflict around me. The international & national crap, local and personal. It's all just like a big cheese grater rubbing against my nipples.

Humans are pretty funny. Of course by funny I mean really fucking stupid. We do the same stuff over and over and don't have the willpower to change. It's scarier to change than to stop your own suffering at any level. And yes, I've been trying to wrap my head around other people's viewpoints, values and priorities, but I'm just not feeling it. This sounds like I'm being narcissistic, but I don't think I am because I'm lumping myself in with the rest of y'all.

I get people having different tastes...why you listen to so-called country music is beyond me...but what the hell. And when I see our children get sucked into a consumeristic culture - I get that. I still have aspects of that, even though I'm trying to shake it. I understand the psychology around it.

But I'm having the hardest time understanding why anyone would care if two dudes got married. Or if someone wants to show a boobie on TV or talk about farts on the radio...who cares? I'm offended by mediocrity not sex. (Though I'm not offended by mediocre sex) Are people that insecure that they HAVE to have everyone be just like themselves? As long as I don't have to watch you perform dubious sex acts on Main Street, what do I care what you do with your life.

At the same time, how can people just accept and not question the load that is spewed to them on a daily basis? How many times can groups of people do the same dumb shit over and over again and yet there will always some new group that thinks it'll be different this time. This imperialistic conquering shit has never worked...never...for more than a few years, anyway. We kill in the name of peace (?), God, oil, capitalism, yet it's all been done before and never worked. Superior technology will never work against people who are desperate...Vietnam, Afganistan, Palestine, now Iraq. You will never crush groups of people who refuse to fight conventionally. Seriously, if black folks in the US ever got together and really went guerrilla on The Man, we'd all be fucked.

But it's the same thinking at local levels. Why do cities do the same shit to solve their problems when they never work. Ever. Whether it be taxes, education, homelessness, whatever. It's the same "solutions". And when some place, usually a small town or west coast city, does something innovative and progressive...and it works...people ignore it. And that solution usually works until some dumbass takes office and goes back to the old stuff. Now normally I'd start throwing out examples, but you have a million of your own. Any issue that is important to you is dealt with the same way it always has.

Now don't get me wrong. This isn't an American phenomenon. It happens all over. The civil wars in Africa, death squads in Latin America, skinheads in Europe, blah, blah, blah. Are my expectations too high? I'm really not expecting perfection...but if people are suffering, you help fix it. Or at least stop causing it for crying out loud.

And if filters down to personal stuff. I'm guilty as hell of this. There are a ton of things I beat myself up over, yet don't change. My fat ass should be at the gym more than once a week (now it's not even that), but I keep putting it off and not making it a part of my routine, even when I know I should be doing it. I've attempted to stop this endless cycle of non-starting relationships with women who are poster children for disfunctionality. Of course my solution has been to allegedly "give up", but it turns out I've just spaced them farther apart. Do as I say, not as I do.

Man, it sure is funky being a human being.

So that's where my head has been and I've had a difficult time putting this into words - and I still don't think I've fully explained this well. So, why don't I give you a few quick, non-serious things:

-I had a chance to catch a local band Pietzche Nietzches last week. Their site is agonizingly incomplete, but there's a nice bunch of mp3's there. If you're not down with their song "Fuck the Man" then you shouldn't be sniffing around this page. Their offshoot band, The Hayseeds, played a sparsely-attended fundraiser for my school board campaign. Luckily there weren't a lot of people around when the candidate was singing the chorus to Fuck the Man along with the band. Whatever. I really like the chick singer in the band...if I dig her she must be psychotic.

-Staying on music...I've noticed one of the new "it" bands is The Scissor Sisters. They've been on every late night show within the last week. Their single "Take Your Mama" is OK, but it can get really old with too much airplay. The song reminds me of mid 70's Elton John...you know...before he went diva. I will say this...The Scissor Sisters are the gayest band to come down the pike in a long, long time. Not that there's anything wrong with that. They even come with their own fag hag.

-Today we started coming up with music for a new/old Whitee song. The music to Pointdexter Booty Fest is going to be a sixties-Dylan-90's-Wilburys-minus-Jeff-Lynne's-hand-up-my-ass thing. Right now I'm learning the chord changes for verses. I'm going to have to touch up the lyrics this week as well. Update them and maybe clean it up a little...we're not doing the gangsta parody anymore so the gratuitous stuff isn't necessary. Good times.

-Well, we can put that new guitar on hold...I did a quick run on my taxes...unless something changes I'm actually going to owe two thousand bucks. Well, as long as our rich folks don't have to pay as much I guess I can sleep at night. Now, I don't have two grand, so I may be turning tricks at the bus station from now until April 15th. A friend's going to hook me up with his accountant...we'll see what he can do. If I can just break even...

As the Robert Bradley song fades out, I'll bid you adieu...