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Seven

Today Max is seven years old.

Yesterday we had a huge blowout Chuck E. Cheese party with many notables in attendance, though admittedly, not everyone.  It marked my 81-year-old grandmother's first (and probably last) time in the House of the Rat.  This weekend, Max has made out like a bandit, with friends and games and pizza and cakes and pancakes and candy and toys and cash and junk food and action figures and games and movies and stuff.  We expect this to last partially into the coming week, since it usually always does.  Today was actually pretty chill; we got up and made cinnamon raisin pancakes, futzed around with new toys and games (including jumping on the new air bed), went and got smoothies, played Cosmic Catch and Space Mission: Jupiter at the park, had some cheeseburgers, came home and ate more cake, and watched Speed Racer.

Max at seven is in the second grade, where he rarely makes anything less than a 92 on anything, and is in the gifted program.  He has about three close friends, but is fairly solitary by nature.  He loves comic books and dinosaurs and Pokemon and science and math, chocolate, pizza, cartoons and video games.  He has not outgrown some Sesame Street now and again, and he loves his baby sister very much.  He has recently become nostalgic, and tonight asked for the stuffed monkey Jon & Colleen got him when he was born.  He doesn't think even villains in stuff should die, "they're still people," and he doesn't like animals in cages, but loves to watch and feed his new fish, Blur & Spot, and also can't get himself to be a vegetarian.  He still covers his eyes for kissing movies and on TV.  He loves to take pictures of stuff.  Says he wants to be a werewolf for Halloween.  He's a good kid, hyper and weird, with a solid sense of ethics and a need to help out.  His imagination is boundless, and he reads constantly.

Happy 7th to my firstborn!

McCain & Wrongness, Part II

In all fairness, all this wrongness could have happened to anyone - for instance, it happens to the President all the time.  Okay - really, though; We don't have seven years worth of video of Obama to edit together, or it's possible he's been just as wrong.  However (and you knew there had to be a "however" coming) these are all things that McCain was wrong about that The Squidbag - without any foreign policy "experience" or even a college degree - knew he was wrong about when he said them.  Read back, you'll find stuff.  The video illustrates Obama's last point nicely - John McCain's judgment is SERIOUSLY questionable.

Probably because when he was a kid, he used to throw tantrums and hold his breath until he passed out & fell down.  Repeatedly.  His parents started dunking him in cold water to stop it.  First few chapters, Faith of My Fathers, John McCain & Mark Salter.

The Whopper Conundrum

I have been a fan of Whoppers candy (here looking vaguely like deer sign) for nigh on five and twenty years now, pretty much since they were advertised in the pages of the first comics I got my hands on, right next to Hubba Bubba gum, Grit newspapers, Charles Atlas, and X-Ray Specs.  Ah, it was a weird and glorious time.  Now, comic book advertising is dominated by shoes, skateboards, cars and television.  Not a Sea Monkey to be found.  Stupid third millennium.  Comics are better now, though.

Whoppers.  Whoppers are supposed to be a delicious semi-hard ball of malted milk wrapped in a chocolate coating, and most of them are.  However.  In a box of Whoppers, you will get between two and seven that are crap.  These will be really weird, like not only is the filling missing, but there's something kind of gross and chewy about the remaining chocolate as well.  It's not so disgusting you'd spit it out, but it definitely represents a quality control failing down at the old Hershey's place. 

It's odd for two reasons - it's been going on for as long as I can remember, so it must be something inherent to the process.  Inherently important?  Why don't they fix it?  Are there fans of the dessicated Whopper?  Furthermore, no one else would be allowed to get away with this.  Is every eighth Junior Mint gross?  I don't know.  What about random M&Ms, Reese's or Gummi candies?  I don't think it should be too much to ask that they straighten out this weird-ass Whopper problem.

Get McCain & Obama in there - They'll fix it right up.

Why It's Important.

Over the next six weeks, you're going to have people exhorting you for one reason or another to vote for one of the major candidates for President.  I'm going to support Obama, as you know, and paramount among the reasons why I keep saying this is this big, important one: I do not want to be associated, even by simple omission, with McCain supporters.  There's a few things that bear repeating about some McCain supporters right now, so I'm going to step on people's feelings again. 

They call Barack Obama a "nigger" and joke about Cadillacs in front of the White House and fried chicken and watermelon state dinners.  They laugh about how quickly he will be assassinated, and ask if we can't let James Earl Ray out of prison to do the job, apparently not realizing the fucker died a decade ago.  They send each other racist texts and emails, including the one where a chimpanzee eating a banana morphs into Obama while the theme from "The Jeffersons" ("We're moving on up") plays.  This is not the media or the candidates "playing the race card," these are average racist Americans.  They are voting for McCain because they think black people are lazy and shiftless and irresponsible and untrustworthy, and because they are uncomfortable voting for a black man.  They see him as alien and unknown, and they dislike him for qualities extant on his skin, instead of even bothering to consider what's beneath.

Hating a person for what they are instead of for who they are is degrading and dehumanizing, and can allow the hater to forget that the person is a person.  Assigning pejoratives assists with this.  This process leads to some of the most evil shit human beings get up to; rape, murder, violence, mutilations, genocides, driving people from their homes, disenfranchisement - people have rights, and when you cease to believe that they are people, they have no more rights.  With a famous person, and especially a politician, it is easy to come to the belief that they are the personality they put forth.  And when they have a skin color to which you object, then that becomes a lens for hatred.  Completely unacceptable, stupid, wrong, nasty, evil behavior, in all of its forms.

I'm not bagging on Republicans in general right now, because there's been some aisle crossing; I'm not picking on anyone except for those supporting and voting for John McCain.  If you are a McCain supporter for some other reason than this one, you should know that you are associated with these ignorant racist scumfucks, whether you like it or not.  They may not be most of you - or they may be, I don't know.  Racism tends to run a spectrum, from the Klansman down to the "harmless" armchair racist who never says a word out loud, but who would never give a black man a chance to be President, either.   So it's everywhere, and prevalent among McCain supporters.  If you do not think that you identify with what I have described, then I would advise you to watch your step, goose- or otherwise, because you cannot continually associate with racism and hatred without getting some on you.  If you hang out with a group of guys because you like shaving your head or wearing red armbands, eventually others will come to refer to you as what you are.

A stupid, ugly, ignorant, racist monster.  But, you know, do what you want.  It's your vote.

Facebook Etiquette

Okay, I'm opening the floor on these:

If you're not going to post a photo (anywhere) that looks remotely like you, would you think it was rude of someone from your actual past, who you recently friended, to send you an email saying, "Pardon me, but who the hell are you?"  I get friend requests from people who have posted pics of their babies (at least, I hope these babies are theirs), and I think, "who?"  And there are no clues.  I'll do the work; I'll Google you, hit my yearbooks, rack my increasingly unreliable brains - nothing.  My brains don't remember you.  Great swathes of stuff have been replaced by "SCENE MISSING" cards, so don't take it personally.  So yeah, the RE: "Who?" email seems called for to me in this situation.  Opinions?

Should you friend people just to play online games with them?  And if you do, should you then be expected to hold up your end of any interaction, virtual or otherwise, that might subsequently occur?  "Look, I'm sure you're a great guy and everything, but I don't care.  I just wanted someone to defeat in this game.  I can't emotionally support the friends I have now.  I'm just not that likable.  It's not you, it's me."  Fuck that noise, says I.  This is not why I allowed Facebook into my time and space.  So I could do the "it's not you, it's me?"  I hate that.  (For the record, it's always me.  But you knew that.)

How many places should you cross-post a blog post?  I'm posting these here, on my MySpace Bulletins, on my Facebook networked blog (thank you, Marty), and on thisisby.us.  Is that excessive, or just good promotion?  On the one hand, I feel like I'm just being a considerate (if somewhat egoistic) publisher, giving you lots of places to read me, but on the other, I kind of feel like the guy in the crop duster chasing Cary Grant in North by Northwest.  "One way or another, Mr. Kaplan, you will read my blog."

The Squidbag.  A virtual MacGuffin, ribbed for your enjoyment.

Secret Economic Plan

Shhh.

I got an idea for bailing out the US Economy, and it's available exclusively to readers of the Squidbag.  One hitch, though: it'll cost ya $700 billion with a "B" for me to share it with you.

It's a grand idea, yeah?  Funneling hundreds of billions of dollars (that, last time I looked, we don't have because we're spending it on pointless wars) into companies whose basic greed and inability to adapt caused them to tank out in the first place.  They were allowed to behave like cowboys on a manifest destiny trip; get all the money you can see, because it's ours by default anyway.  So much for Adam Smith's "unseen hand," yeah?  So - rejecting the ideas of non-regulation, & free market economics, the federal government of the United States is using 700 billion dollars of your money (assuming you pay taxes) to prop up businesses in trouble.  Why?  Because they are seen as pillars of Wall Street, without which the entire US economy would be revealed as the house of cards it's been since the collapse of Bretton Woods in the early 70s, if not longer.

700 billion for the stalwarts of banking.  You know, I've been financially unstable for a while now.  Why can't the government shoot me say, ten grand?  I know I got my stimulus check, but that wasn't for me, as it's name implies, it was to give the economy a shot in the arm.  I want mine.  You've got 700 billion, I'm not being greedy, just shoot me 10 grand.  Come on.  Fucking government.  Just goes to show you, the only people you should trust less with your money than major, for-profit financial institutions is the goddammed government. 

Douchebag in Aisle 4

I don't really know what it was.  Perhaps it's that I had a good night's sleep last night and a super-productive day today, so I felt cocksure and self-confident.  Maybe it was that I had just seen on the store's widescreen that the Packers were down to the Cowboys, and I hate the fucking Cowboys.  Maybe it was just that there seemed to be an increased agglomeration of total shitheads at Kroger this evening whilst I was grocery shopping, and that had me on edge.  Whatever it was, it produced this:

Smallish Woman in Milk Aisle to Man on cellphone (who is with another man): Excuse me.

Man: (with disdainful look) Hold on, I will move when I am finished with this (not really indicating what).

Woman: (waits a moment) Please, if I could just get -

Man: You can wait for just a moment.

Me: This woman asked you to move.  She's trying to get to something behind you.

Man: (raising voice) Why is this everyone's business?  This store is not crowded, just hold on a moment -

Me: Man, you are a complete douchebag.

Man: Excuse me?

Me:  Yeah.  And not one of those quality douchebags, either; the big red rubber kind that hangs over the back of the bathroom door and smells faintly like a salad, no.  You're a cheap, used, dime-store douchebag used by an incontinent grandmother with a history of dysentery and garlic farts.  You're a fucking asshole and a disgusting human being.  I stand here with my shopping cart in the dairy section and judge you.  Now, MOVE.

Man: (aghast, staring at me, holding phone)  Are you wanting to fight?

Me: Are you?

His friend: I told you about Americans.  Come on.  (They move away.)

Three things to round this out: I mainly only blogged this because I was impressed with my own insult and wanted it saved somewhere.  I feel, in retrospect, like I should have spat, or thrown something breakable down on the ground during it.  Second, if you're thinking, "I would never let someone talk that long before just punching them in the face, or simply interrupting," I was thinking the same thing.  I don't know how I get away with shit like this.  And third, the lady got her milk and bailed while the stupid Y chromosome carriers had it out.  So I was a distraction.

Jesus: The Coloring Book

I came by this recently, which is to say; it was ballistically forced upon Max, who instantly discarded it as boring, forgot about it, and then, several days later, I picked it up out of the trunk of my car and started looking through it.

First of all, let me begin by saying that white American Christian Jesus as a best friend to children is a huge uphill battle, marketing-wise.  Jesus has no superpowers, cannot change into anything, and does not dress cool.  He doesn't even wear shoes.  Specifically, this 80's vintage Jesus, who resembles Dan Fogelberg, wears only white flowing robes, like he's going to accost you in an airport with literature.  And he probably is.  He's not going to be doing things kids think are cool.  Okay, Jesus did some miracles and stuff, but he's your friend who died for you.  He's dead.  But back from the dead.  But not a zombie vampire Jesus, because that would get you in trouble.  Too complicated.  Optimus Prime & Batman are far cooler.

The book itself: It's a coloring book devoid of interesting things to color.  It's just headshots of Jesus, mostly.  When he feeds the 5000?  Picture of Jesus, breaking bread.  No background, filled with 5000 hungry people.  Quelling the storm that threatens the lives of the apostles?  The pic is of Jesus, asleep.  What kid doesn't want to color a picture of a sleeping grown man?  Wow.  The most interesting pictures are kind of creepy, like Jesus pushing some kids on a tire swing.  Doesn't this create an unrealistic expectation when it comes to Christ, setting young Christians up for disappointment?  Maybe that's the plan: As a Christian, you're going to be disappointed and frustrated a lot - in the world, your family, institutions, friends, leadership, the whole enchilada.  Just love Jesus, and you should be alright.  We guess.  Color something, kid.  These are the good years.

Anyway - I didn't expect much from Jesus the coloring book, and I was not disappointed.  I will be giving it away as a trivia prize to the winner of the forthcoming Squidbag Trivia Challenge!

So, They've Got Nothing.

I mean, that is my assumption based on the recent glut of repugnant, twisted lies vomited out by the McCampaign.  Apparently, Johnny McCain's people actually have nothing to really critique when it comes to Barack Obama, so they have to make shit up, inventing out of whole cloth (and using twisted leaps of illogic that make thinking people cringe) random things to bitch about.  Negative campaigning at its worst.  And yes, both camps are doing it.  But the McCain people truly seem to be doing some major league storytelling; lies that would make the Bushes nod in approval. 

Let's talk about last week's lipstick thing.  It's one of those times in American discourse that I shake my head and think to myself, "If we're this fucking stupid as a group, then we deserve to have shitty leaders.  Fuck us."  Well after Sarah Palin's goofy-ass "pitbull / hockey mom / lipstick" joke" (which GOPers seem to think is just hilarious, I guess)  Obama, while discussing Monkeyface's failed economic policies that McCain would continue, makes the statement that "you can put lipstick on a pig, but it's still a pig."  This is an idiomatic expression that dates back to the early 1700's, which certainly pre-dates Sarah Palin, though possibly not John McCain.  That doesn't matter to McPalin, however - they dove on it like a bum on a ham sandwich and called it an example of Obama being sexist by referring to Palin as a pig.  Not what he said.  Not even close.  It's a stretch to even get that implication out of it, really, grasping at straws.  It would be like me saying, "this is a black day for our country" and you accusing me of being racist.  But you probably would, anyway.  It lowers the tone (even further) of our political discourse, and seems to indicate not only a rampant hypocrisy from McCain, who had this nastiness used against him to great effect back in '04 (see South Carolina), but also an unattractive, cloying, and sweaty desperation from the McCampaign.  Which seems unwarranted, since the numbers are so close right now.  Maybe they have no plan.  Maybe this a scorched earth thing.  I am reading McCain's book right now, and there's a lot of Naval battle stuff in it, outflanking, hating your enemy, destroying the opposition - all that jazz.  Maybe that's what this is.

On a side note, they managed to offend Baby Huey, who went on shows to blather and crap himself, then reached his slime-encrusted paw into his enormous soiled diaper and smeared the contents on the American public, which the media then went on to quote endlessly.  Fuck you, Baby Huey, go back to your multi-million dollar sleazepit.

So they've gone negative, which disappoints me a little bit.  I'm so tired of all the shit already, and it's just going to get worse.  At least now they can snipe each other over the economy in shreds.  Thanks, Monkeyface!  Thanks for allowing your buddies to run roughshod over economic freedom with their big greedboots on so that Wall Street would actually collapse right before the campaign, giving the contenders something to fight about!  Good planning!

"Would it Killya?"

...to acknowledge my presence as a human being?  I see you, you see me, I nod, wave, or say something, and you stalk on by, like an asshole on some asshole mission.  I'm not looking for a curtsied Victorian-era introduction here, or a foil-embossed business card.  No exchanges of fluids.  Just a simple inclining of your chin will do.  A quick nod.  Just give some sign that you're aware that we're sharing the planet, you inconsiderate jerk.

...to hold a door for someone?  Buy them a soda?  Give 'em some help?  Treat them human, no matter what fucking color they are or how much scratch they have, or where they come from?  Sonofabitch, I'd swear you were raised by vampires or something, you sick little piece of shit.

...to signal before you turn?  Often, the only indication I get is when you slam on your brakes.  Of course, that's after you pulled out in front of me, only to slow down, and the execute the unsignalled turn a few moments later.  I'd be relieved that you turned, but your clone's gonna pull out in front of me in a couple of seconds, and his car's going to be, sizewise, even more out of proportion to his driving ability than your big-ass oil-drinking death wagon.

...to wear clothes that fit you and cover your body and undergarments?  You look like a circus clown, for chrissakes.

...to refrain from bringing up your gods & politics for just one day - try it.  It's awkward for everyone when you keep bringing up your various weird beliefs.

...to be aware of your own limits when it comes to alcohol & drugs?

...to warn us about your ass-gas?  You probably know whether you need to let other people know, so think it over.  It's always nice to be able to avoid someone else's internal smells, instead of feeling like Han Solo inside the dead animal on Hoth.

...to turn down your stereo when you're parked outside my window?  And your music sucks.  Refine your fucking tastes, or turn your volume down.

...to just shut the fuck up occasionally, and let the rest of us appreciate a good silence?  The signal to noise ratio is overwhelmingly tipped towards signal, and your mouthy ass isn't helping.  If no one runs with your segue, try thinking for a few minutes.  And not "thinking out loud," which is never actual thinking anyway.  This almost feels unfair to ask of 21st Century Americans, but fuck you, I am not fair.

...to fake that you love your job?  Or at least, not to actively engage me in chats about how much it sucks?  The psychic price others pay for dealing with surly pricks all day is unquantifiable, but certainly huge.  Buck up.

...to not shout over the phone?  It's a phone, not two cups and a string, moron.  I could hear you just fine until the blood started coming out of my ear, you loudmouthed shithead. Stop yelling.

...to not talk my ears off when I'm trying to concentrate?  Or worse, read.  Opening a book in a public place now is like putting up a sign that says "Talk to me, please - I crave human interaction, that's why I'm reading a book right now.  Come interrupt."  I'm seriously thinking of making some dustjackets that say "FUCK OFF" on them.  Takers?

...to move when I say "excuse me?"  Don't apologize - you didn't do anything wrong until you failed to move -  just move.  Thanks.

...to not bag one item at the store?  I can carry one item.  And definitely don't bag shit that's already in a bag.  That makes me crazy.  Bagging a loaf of bread, or a bag of chips?  It's in a goddamn bag!  "Do you need a bag for your bag?"  Is that so I can feel all fancy when I get it home?

...to stay off your cellphone for ten fucking seconds, you self-important prick?  In your car, while you're at work, at fucking meetings, in restaurants - I was tired of this shit ten years ago, and now it's worse.  Probably brain damage from all the cell radiation.  People with the brain capacity of a goldfish are being rendered next to useless, becoming an actual roadblock for the rest of humanity, because apparently, this call is really fucking important.  And it never really is.  If you happen to overhear the drivel these people spout, it's never even interesting, much less crucial.  Get back to life, phonefucker!

...to not text while you're driving?  Or doing anything else halfway more relevant?  Think you could pay attention to your actual surroundings for half a fucking minute instead of taking the red pill again?

...not to point out how much I swear?  If you people weren't so damned irritating, we wouldn't be having this conversation.

I'm going to go kiss my wife, and then sit in the dark, listening to my kids sleeping.

Cool tombstone generated by the tombstone generator.