Out with the old in with the new
As we approach the official midpoint of 2013 perhaps it’s a good idea to measure your new year’s resolution failure quotients while considering how many shopping days are left until Christmas.
New Year’s Day. A man-made calendar recognition festival that honors the yearly occurrence where the number of rotations around our sun is an integer. Yeah, right. Now that is a good reason for a holiday.
The best part, though, is the time-honored traditions of the holiday. Getting shitfaced because of a line being crossed on a calendar. Good times, good times. DUII incidents will spike just like the punch at the party.
The old year is represented by an old man. The symbology is not lost on me. The old man takes a kick to the fucking ball sack. “See ya, wouldn’t want to be ya,” we tell him. And why the hell not? He’s friggin’ old, dammit. Some extremely wise Eskimos practiced senilicide and our New Year’s customs tell us to keep at it. Personally I sit here patiently waiting my turn in that barrel.
The new year…
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RIP Western black rhinoceros
What a piece of work is man.
The African mammals section of New York City’s Museum of Natural History has models of both the white and black rhinoceros found on the continent. Unmentioned in the texts accompanying the black rhino’s exhibit is the fact that its Western subspecies has since 2011 been considered to be extinct, having been driven by poaching to oblivion.
The animal’s fate is yet another demonstration of the cruelty and senselessness of capital, another victim in the sixth mass-extinction event impelled by hegemony. RIP.
Tales of the Moved
And now a few exciting storyoids from the Mover’s Notebook…
The greater the change, the greater the likelihood it will stab directly into your heart like a stiletto and abscond with your life.
–Tom B. Taker
As some of you may already know, my wife and I recently made a big move. Excepting a trip to Mars (where I’m currently on file as a one-way volunteer) it ranks as pretty substantial as far as moves go. We went from the quiet rural lifestyle of a tiny goat farm in the Himalayas and a village of 42 souls to one of the most urbane existences possible in the heart of a big city: Portland, Oregon.
What follows are a few of our observations and experiences.
Free Parking
I hate people who think they are above the law. How rude! Such bad form! Like people who park in the fire lane to use the ATM rather than walking the 20 feet from a legitimate parking space. Or people who say they made charitable donations on their tax returns when they really didn’t. I loathe and despise that sort of thing.
People who park on the wrong side of the street also make that list.
Yet here, in Portland, there’s so much of it that it’s hard to imagine that it’s actually illegal. In fact, it almost seems like parking on the wrong side of the street is the norm and parking legally is the aberration. It’s that prevalent.
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Work Job
The “Work Job” is a sexual act of the most scurrilous and despicable nature. It involves finding a partner, known as a boss, turning around, bending over to touch your toes and waiting for it. The rest? It’s so heinous I can’t even think about it, much less describe it, not even to liven up this post for your entertainment. Sorry, I just can’t do it.
I’ve noticed something. When I make predictions and statements that are born out to be 100% correct, the universe covers me in a pile of shit as way of thanks. When someone like Karl Rove makes predictions that are dead wrong, he is given somewhere between $90 to $160 million of other people’s money to throw down a toilet hole.
Something tells me it should be the other way around.
Take the topic of bosses and jobs, for example. I’ve been preaching the way things are for quite some time. Did anyone listen to me? No!
There are a few keys moments I can remember in my life. For a lot of folks they remember where they were when JFK was shot. Well, I’m too young for that. For me, those watershed moments are things like the Challenger space shuttle disaster, the morning of 9/11, and the SCOTUS ruling on DOMA.
It turns out there’s one more for that list. The day that Gallup released data indicating that 70% of American workers hate their jobs. No shit. Really? Now you’re justing repeating things I’ve already said! I made that case a long, long time ago, only more eloquently.
Where’s my piece of the pie?
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Super Ikearrhea
The other night I went out to howl at a “super” moon. Unfortunately I couldn’t figure out how to unbuckle my belt. Opportunity missed!
Meanwhile, while flying high in my ballon chair, I spied the IKEA moon base where my wife and I had recently shopped. I decided to take a photograph and immortalize the moment for my friend Blogdramedy.
Curse my luck! Mount St. Helens photobombed the shot. What were the odds of that? Nothing ever goes right for me!
Scum and Villainy Must Be Arrested
Innocent until proven guilty.
Simple in concept but, like most things, the devil is in the details. How will we as an evolving society continue to embrace this simple concept? Under this basic principle, being arrested is decidedly not the same as being guilty.
Once upon a time I, yours truly, was arrested by the police. I’m not sure if I’ve ever told you that story. It’s a harrowing tale of poop, felis catus, neighborly love, and C.S.I. And just like most episodes of C.S.I. the identities of the guilty will be revealed in time for the credits.
I imagine the whole thing looked a lot like George Clooney being handcuffed and taken into custody. Yeah, exactly the same.
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Shouts from the Abyss 
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