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Merry December, Bitches
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12/20/2005
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This is a Christmas tree. You can call it a non-denominational-festivity-related-arboreal-American, but it will still be a Christmas tree and you are a holiday moron.
Trying to wrap my brain around the latest in pointless controversies, I realized that this might be just what society needs to help people cross partisan lines and come together for a common cause. Even my most liberal friends seem to think that taking Santa out of Christmas parades and calling it a holiday tree is ridiculous for several reasons- first, the Christmas tree/Santa thing actually has its origin in pagan rituals, so the cousin humping fundamentalists fighting to keep Christ in the Christmas tree have a little reading to do. Second, the word holiday has a root word- Holy. So the filthy anti-religious baby killers probably need to come up with a less ironic substitute name. Third (and most important), I have yet to meet anyone who has ever met anyone who was offended by the sight or mention of a Christmas tree, Menorah, Kwanzaa cake, Ramadan pinata, or any other symbol of a religious holiday.
This last point got me thinking even more about the individuals who stop drooling in their oatmeal long enough to come up with ideas like this about which they can be outraged.
Staying away from the typical arguments that The United States is or is not 400% theist and the country is or is not founded on religious principles, I finally came up with a parallel that I think most people can identify with- the ineffective/outdated co-worker.
We have all worked with or known someone like this. The guy in sales or marketing or some other department of a company who has become surrounded by smarter, more professional people and has finally become obsolete because of the natural course of events. He may have had a very useful role at one time, but now busies himself trying to invent jobs to justify his paycheck. You'd almost rather he just stayed home, as long as he didn't interfere with stuff that needs to be done. Stay with me here- it'll make sense.
Most of the organizations against which I rail regularly (PETA, most labor unions, National Organization for the Diagonally Challenged, ACLU, Christians Against Everything, Everything for the Fair Treatment of Everybody, and so on) may have had a use at their inception and probably did some real good for society. Some even still accidentally do something right now and then, but not to the tune of the billions of dollars taxpayers are forced to give them every year. For instance, being charged $90 to have union hands plug in your laptop at a convention center or risk having your legs broken does not help ensure fair wages for workers.
The Christmas debate and others like it (see PETA's latest effort to put fishing in the same category as killing puppies for another example along the same vein.) are merely evidence that these organizations know they are out of things to do, but still need to look busy enough to justify their paycheck.
From the very start, the issue of whether or not it was offensive to publicly call December 25th "Christmas Day" struck me as a reaction to a problem that never existed- that is, no one outside of the National Organization of Professional Douchebags ever complained about it. Further, their desire to propose legislation prohibiting by law the display of religious symbols seems awfully hypocritical in light of the "separation of church and state" crutch they lean on with such predictability.
Great idea, you whores- let's create a law that will take all mention of every religion out of everything so that as an entire country we can begin a comfortable regression to a bunch of culturally ignorant shitheads beating people up 'cause they ain't like us. Sounds like progress to me.
To my knowledge, no one has ever tried to enact a law mandating prayer to any particular deity in school, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with allowing people to pray, even if it is in school. As long as congress doesn't declare a national religion or make any law regarding said prayer, it's all perfectly constitutional. See how much easier it is when some things are governed by the people and for the people? And don't start crying about a slippery slope- the part about common sense is coming up.
When I was a kid in public school we made dreidels out of clay, learned how different cultures celebrated their religious holidays, ate traditional holiday foods that made me consider changing my religion, and said "under God" when we pledged allegiance to the flag. It wasn't mandatory that we worshipped Allah, Jesus, Santa, or Satan, but if we were supposed to learn something about any of those figures and didn't, we still got an F because it was stuff we were expected to know.
Nothing has really changed, and it is my contention that it won't as long as the government stays out of it. This is one of those areas that will work itself out through the common sense with which most of us were born. People will disagree about things, and the kid who doesn't want to pledge allegiance can sit out. Hurt feelings? All part of growing up, and they'll get over it. 99% of the population has the sense to understand that.
The groups trying to make a big deal out of semantics, insect rights, or any other non-issue need to rethink their strategy to guarantee next year's government grant, because as you go around the political spectrum there are lots of liberals and lots of conservatives, but not nearly enough idiots to keep them in business. The rest of us are becoming very aware that while these organizations may have had a useful purpose at one point, that time has passed for most of them. Of course, it could be part of a very subversive government program to ensure that the population doesn't lose sight of our own capacity to be thoughtful and logical. If that is the case, then bravo.
Merry Christmas.
 Dusty
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posted by Dusty at 2:10 PM |
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And You Thought Your Yearbook Picture Was Embarassing
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12/13/2005
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Raise your hand if you are not a little embarrassed of your high school yearbook picture. If your hand is not raised, you either haven't graduated high school yet or you went to Timeless Fashion High.
I counted 22 mullets on one page of my high school yearbook, and yes, I was one of them. In 1991 at Fayette County High School, mullets were quite the thing to have. Knowing what I know about that school and that part of town, the mullet is probably still going strong. I'd post my yearbook picture here, but unfortunately that technology has not been invented yet so shut up. It wasn't even a good mullet and this story is not about mullets.
I don't care if you are Goth, a break dancer, or even if you were wearing head gear and your hall monitor sash. The bar of bad yearbook photos has been raised, and from now on, everyone who has a lapse in judgment can thank sweet feathery Jesus that they aren't this guy:
When my brother sent me that image it gave me a case of dorkpox that lasted for a week. Luckily I was able to stop it before it spread below the waist.
Name: Friend(s) call him Crankshaft
Occupation: "Whatever it takes to keep gas in the whip and ragged shorts on mah hips. Thinking about going into women's studies at Berkley, because I like studyin' bitches and California has the hottest bitches."
Interests: Mirrors, hittin' the weights, being naked from the waist up, finding ever more creative ways to make sure that I never get laid again.
If you could give the world one piece of advice it would be:
"Start knowing that K-fed is the hottest new rapper our world will know. The day of the unshaven douchebag is upon us, so RECOGNIZE, muphucka'- we will RISE UP. Can I say muphucka in the year book? Wait. Don't write that part down. Now it doesn't even make sense. Dammit, you're dead after school, fuckin' journalism fag."
He is either the funniest person in the world, lost a bet, or is a queefcake of proportions that can only be fathomed by our creator himself. My choice is the latter; if he was doing it to be funny, he would have worn swim fins or a propeller cap or something else to let everyone who wasn't in on the joke know that it was, in fact, a joke. Even if he lost a bet, some kind of general "Hey, I'm not actually seriously going sans-shirt gazing wistfully at the arc angel Gabriel for my yearbook picture" indicator is definitely in order.
The post production guys did an excellent job photoshopping out the cock and balls that swung mere inches from his eager lips as the shot was taken, leaving him looking as if he just discovered how to divide by zero or something. Whatever he is gazing at in the vignette picture, I can assure you that it is not an image of himself 20 years from now looking back on the choices he made in high school.
Dusty
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posted by Dusty at 1:31 PM |
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Six pack of conflict...on ice.
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12/06/2005
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I went to the beer store on Saturday. I'm not going to describe what I bought other than to say that breakfast is the most important meal of the day.
It was pretty crowded because the part of the constitution that separates church and state doesn't apply to Georgia, and we can't buy beer on Sunday. So everybody buys it on Saturday.
Anyway, it's crowded and this dude walks in yelling about something. He looked like all of the frat guys I hated in college. Warmup pants, cap with curved bill, louder than necessary, thinks he's all tough and important...he holds up what looks like a penis pump and proclaims to everyone in the store "HEY. Y'all gave me a tap that don't work. Whaddaya want me to do with it?"
Pregnant silence as I waited for someone...anyone...to say "Pound it up your ass and break it off?"
None were so brave, including me.
The little old guy behind the counter said, "Taykaobertodamaganer. Heeee wilgenothermorebetterforworkingone."
Mr. Blue Collar Comedy fan seemed nonplussed at the audacity the guy had to walk around having an accent, which I found ironic. He laughed at the guy and said something non-complimentary. He then ventured over to where the man had gestured and turned around and yelled "Who do I talk to?!"
The cashier guy smiled at the customer he was helping, handily ignoring Jethro. I liked this guy. Jethro says "AY!", and the cashier picked up the paging phone and rattled something off in another language. I like to think he said "Manager to the scotch section, give him the tap we soaked in hepatitis."
Jethro got his new tap and then had to return to the counter so the guy could record the number. Lucky me. He gets in line behind me and starts muttering to me about how these guys can't even speak English, need to go back to bim-bob-way [sic] I gotta' keg with no tap on it…and I interrupt him as politely as possible.
"Hey, it's not a big deal. I'm very sure they didn't give it to you on purpose."
"Oh it is a big deal. I had to drive clear back over here to get a new tap that shoulda' worked in the first place!" he responded loudly and assholily.
"Well, if tapping a keg is the most important thing you have to do today, you have it pretty good."
As if to punctuate my point, a guy with one arm asked him for money on the way out (after he got all pissy and just walked out with the tap). Sometimes things just happen that way, but it would have been funnier if the guy had mugged him.
The homeless guy then came in and started bugging the lady in line next to me. He said something about poetry and started asking her all kinds of personal weird stuff. When he left, she said something to me that I didn't hear.
"Huh?"
"Oh, that bum that was just bothering me here...sorry, homeless gentleman."
"I think the most current term is 'urban outdoorsman'."
(This was apparently very offensive to the woman who had just called him a bum, and she pulled a JFK, head going back and to the left. You've seen the move if a black woman has ever been pissed at you)
"Why he gotta' be UURRBAN?"
*several seconds go by as I try to figure out what in the hell she is talking about*
"Buh...muh...b'cuz we are in an urban ar..."
"CAUSE HE'S BLACK?!"
I actually buried my face in my hands at this point. I decided to have tiny dictionaries printed up that I can hand out like some people do with bibles.
"No. Urban does not mean black. We are in an urban area. The city. Atlanta. Nevermind."
I'm not going back to the beer store until I need something else to write about. Or breakfast.
Dusty
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posted by Dusty at 10:05 PM |
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