Monday, October 31, 2005
Today the individual who asked the fifty-thousand dollar question was in his 20’s, an angry freaky wanna-be hippie hipster slacker who stood up and defiantly asked, “Yeah, do you hire anyone to work at a place that isn’t an evil corporation?”
This guy had many gross piercings, and not just regular piercings but the kind that people get to stretch ear lobes and other man-made orifices into larger-than-nature intended sizes. He was wearing nice corduroys that were probably made in a sweat shop in a third-world country by some 10 year old who got 32 cents pay for the week. He was the kind of smarmy smirky bastard you wanted to trip while he was on the sprout salad bar line with a full tray of hot tofu.
I looked at him and smiled, and in my best game-show host impression, I answered, “Why yes we do, and if you are seriously interested in pursuing an opportunity with our company, you can give me a call later and we can discuss it further. Any other questions?”
That smart ass sat down and I had a couple of normal questions regarding benefits, locations of work sties, etc. The rest of the presentation finished with no problems.
What I really wanted to say to that jerk:
“Look, asshole, why don’t you and your hypocritical self just sit the fuck down and let the other people in this room who are seriously looking for work obtain the information they need? Where did you get the hardware for those gaping orifices you call earlobes? I’m sure at some point, it was manufactured by a big time steel corporation, who is irreparably damaging the environment and shipping their plundered goods across the world so you can pay someone a hundred bucks to put a bullet hole through your lobes and stick that chunk of tacky metal in its place. I’m sure your mom and dad paid good money for you to flunk out of the college you just had to come to our city to attend, and now you’re all down and out because you’re on your own. Do you use a phone or have phone service? Evil corporations at work there. How about ride the bus? Evil corporations there too. Your eyeglasses, I’m sure some parts were manufactured by an evil corporation, in a third world country where women are publicly executed for not walking around with a male relative. Receive state assistance? Food boxes? Evil corporations. Lets talk about more evil, where did you get your clothes from? A thrift store? Even if it is an “evil corporation” brand name, you are still supporting that company by keeping their clothes in circulation buy re-buying it from someone who bought it originally from the offending evil corporation. Use condoms? I sure hope so. Oh, by the way, they were manufactured by an evil corporation. So sit down and shut the fuck up.”
I enjoy these private, timeless, silent moments.
Friday, October 28, 2005
Ric went to Mt. Hood last weekend with a few of his friends, to go ice climbing on a small part of the massive glacier near the peak. This area is called Cooper's Spur. I know it looks small, but it's really far away and incomprehensibly big; I've never been this high on the mountain, and personally I am a little bit chicken to go ice climbing around crevasses after the amount of movies I saw and books I read that involved highly trained professionals getting seriously injured or dying.
In this picture, Ric and his friend are ascending the ice river. They are climbing around 9,000 feet high, and are on Palmer Glacier. Mount Hood is a dormant volcano, and reaches a height of 11,249 feet. It is the highest mountain/volcano in the state. Mount Hood is second only to Japan's Mt. Fuji in the number of climbers reaching the summit. Below is a picture of Ric's friend climbing up an ice wall, using hand picks and wearing crampons on his boots.
There’s a bunch of casinos here (everywhere). They’re all out toward the coast; I’ve been to two but only spent a couple of bucks at each. I am more into walking around and observing all the people there, and the blatant excessiveness. I once had a 6 hour layover in Las Vegas, Nevada, and at the time I had a friend who lived there. She picked me up from the airport, and gave me a quick tour. One of the casions we went to was the Hard Rock Casino. Something that amazed me, is simply because I put a dollar into a machine, a waitress came up and gave me a complimentary drink (I got a beer). As I was finishing my drink, another server came by and gave me another. I couldn’t believe it, and sensed a pattern. Amazingly I won $14 dollars at the game I was at (video poker), and continued to play and get served beers until I was down to $9. Thoroughly buzzed (I’m a lightweight), I decided to cut my losses, and look at rock and roll memorbeilia. When I got back on the plane, I passed out for the duration of the second leg of my flight.
One annoying thing I find consistent in all of my experiences there, if I get something for take out, they are real reluctant to give you a paper bag, and really chintzy about giving out their containers of salsa. But if you eat there, you can slop on as much salsa as you can stand. If you’re getting take out, you have to ask for one, and they have two varieties, so if you want both, they charge you 50 rip-off cents. The paper bag thing is the most annoying, though. When your food is ready, they just hand you this hot aluminum foil wrapped burrito, which resembles a small, hot football. You have to ask them, “Can I have a bag, please?” and the underpaid disgruntled hipster working the counter sighs and rolls his eyes before casually finding a bag and putting the burrito in there. The paper bag is the buffer; if you are transporting that in a backpack or shoulder bag, you don’t want to risk any kind of leakage or smushing without that buffer.
Whenever possible, I ask for a napkin, too, just in case there is a breach the napkin can serve as extra absorption. Now that I think about it, there are no napkins around, you have to ask the servers for a napkin, and they only give out one. I totally make a mess, and definately need more than one napkin so I’m like “can I have another? can I have a few?” and after about 5 minutes of negotiating I have a handful and the servers are conferring and talking about my gluttonous napkin consumption.
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
My friend and I walked a hundred or so feet to the south, and sat on some large rocks under a short pier. As we were sitting there, the beach instantly crawled with blinking red and blue police vehicles designed to tear around in sand, and a couple of helicopters with spotlights began to comb the area. The response was great, and the police continued to search long after we were gone. I didn’t have the heart to explain to the search and recovery crews what had actually happened, and wasn’t sure if they’d believe me. Besides, at 17 or 18 I probably had some kind of illegal substance on me, and I’m not one to draw attention to myself while I’m breaking the law. And I probably borrowed my father’s car to get out to the beach in the first place, and if I didn’t return before he had to leave for work at 6 the next morning, I’d be in deep shit.
“Hello, do you hire people that are disabled?” a nervous sounding young man inquired.
“Well, we are a temporary staffing service that specializes in employing people with disabilities. If you have a disability, we will employ you and give you the opportunity to work.” I robotically replied.
“ Well, I have a disability, and I’ve had a real hard time getting a job. In fact,” he protested, “I know that’s why nobody’s hired me.”
“In that case,” I reassured him, “you should definitely set an appointment to attend our orientation, and you can learn more about our company and the kinds of opportunities available. I must take 20 calls a day that sound a lot like the conversation I was having with this guy.
“Uhhh….Okay” the young man hesitantly answered. We went through a few questions and answers, and exchanged information and I ended up making an appointment for him that Wednesday. I confirmed our appointment time and date, and asked him if he had any questions.
“Yeah, um, I haven’t been able to get a job at all and I know it’s because of my disability. you see, I’m bi-polar,” he paused, I thought to myself no big deal, and he interjected, “and schizophrenic. But I’m fine, I really am I take my medication and everything’s been fine for a while,” he hurriedly added, as if he was trying to sell me a car that was in an auto accident.
“Look, I’m telling you, come down here, and you’ll see what we’re about. We just hired 5 schizophrenic guys last week, and two of them just got out of prison. They’re all working right now. ”
“Really?” he asked with disbelief apparent in his voice, “Okay, I’ll be down tomorrow, thanks!”
I thought that was pretty funny.
I liked Herb because he was really nice to me, in a place where most people were assholes towards me. After I got canned from that job, I would do my grocery shopping at 7 AM at my local Fred Meyer’s, and like clockwork, I would see Herb there every Saturday morning and make small talk with him. He was pretty shy, too, so I did most of the talking. He would just ask me how I was doing, and smile at me.
Christ, now he’s in a coma. How weird. I hope he’s having some beautiful dreams.
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
War can happen anywhere
The 20-second video commercial clip now being shown on Belgian TV aims to show that war can happen in the most innocent of places, Henon said.
“We get reactions from all over the place, people are shocked and want to know the reasons behind this cartoon image.”
The appeal is meant to raise money for UNICEF projects in Burundi, Congo and Sudan, Henon said. However, due to its graphic and disturbing scenes, this cartoon is not for everyone. The advertisement is aimed at an adult audience and is only shown after 9 p.m. to avoid upsetting young Smurfs fans.The video is peacefully introduced by birds, butterflies and happy Smurfs playing and singing their theme song when suddenly out of the sky, bombs rain down onto their forest village, scattering Papa Smurf and the rest as their houses are set ablaze.
The bombs kill Smurfette leaving Baby Smurf orphaned and crying at the edge of a crater in the last scene of the video and finishing of with the text “don’t let war destroy the children’s world.”
After a little web surfing about the subject, I come across a message board at www.cruel.com and found this feedback:
Topic: UNICEF bombs the Smurfs
Posted by Undead Minion on 2005-10-09; 21:19:49
(message 2110581 reads)
It's about fucking time.
Forward to 40 seconds in to see what would have happened if Gargamel had got his hands on a B-52.
Monday, October 10, 2005
When we first moved in here, Neal’s wife Linda lived next-door, in a sparsely but tastefully decorated duplex. She was an attractive 40 something woman, who was active and friendly, and knew the boundaries of keeping pleasantries brief. We speculated she was a recently divorced liberated woman who was enjoying a new lease on life. For two weeks, we said our hi’s and by’s as we left for work and returned to our respective apartments in the evenings, and made small talk on the sidewalk in front of our residences. My kitchen has a windowed breakfast area that looks out onto the neighborhood intersection, and Linda would greet my cats whenever she was coming or going. Everything seemed suspiciously normal and nice, but at the block barbeque, my suspicions were confirmed.
Linda was an hour late to the Barbeque because she had to work that Saturday, but we walked over when it was scheduled to start and got to know Neal at that time. We didn’t make the connection that he was Linda’s husband; we hadn’t even seen or met him before. Even Alice, my old lady friend and neighbor, didn’t really know who he was, and she knew everything. I had no idea she was even married. I thought Neal was kind of a jerk; it was like pulling teeth engaging him in conversation that didn’t turn negative or critical. Linda joined our group, and she made a comment to him “Well, these are your new neighbors.” We all didn’t know what she meant, and after some private speculating we decided that they must be in some sort of divorce, and he is having a hard time letting go. He was in the house, but she was in the apartment, but she was going to get the house and he was going to move into the apartment. The annoying thing is, is that he’s been moving stuff every night for about three weeks now, banging in and out of his apartment, against our walls, we hear this loud piercing banging and cannot figure out for the life of us what he’s doing over there. We imagine he’s bringing in speakers, or containers, or a few hammers, something big and heavy and just drops it wherever he wants it. We have only seen Linda twice since the barbeque, and in both instances she didn’t seem as if she was staying there anymore.
The classy and sparse décor yielded to a wood paneled particleboard entertainment center that housed a big television, and corkboards with a variety of small notes and business cards randomly stuck throughout the living room. Ol’ No Deal wasn’t too friendly, and puts out a creepy and weird vibe. I mean, I’m not complaining if that’s all he does. If he isn’t manufacturing meth or beating his family I guess I don’t mind having him for a neighbor. He’s kind of funny because you can tell from his body language he has little patience and gets annoyed easily. I just hope he finishes moving stuff in and out. It’s not clear what he is moving, and from where to where.
They are the gatekeepers to the cubified and enclosed
Drones, the sorters and dispersers of
Mail and special deliveries,
Judge jury and executioner of the waiting room.
They silently and sacredly monitor
The comings and goings
Of all employees, witness to
The back door firings, the secret upstairs office hirings,
Water cooler romance on the most discreet of levels
Message taker, covert info relayer and
Friend and confidant, speak their mind
Oracle of truth, knowledge and guidance
offering blessings of encouragement and reinforcement,
To both the high powered and unemployed,
Travel weary, nervous and anxious,
Frazzled, lost and the confused.
Saturday, October 08, 2005
Above is a picture saved from one of many KATU-2 web cams in the area. This was the easiest to see; the other cameras at this time were showing street, car and building lights in a shroud of grey mist on a darker grey background.
When we went, it was late summer, and there were an excessive amount of insects invisible to the eye that would buzz in your ear and bite you and leave large red welts under your armpit, on your ear, or on your forehead. I think there's some insect vengeance going on there, almost as if it's a planned attack. Grapenut and I were pretty psychotic by the time we finished hiking the trail, the bugs made us so mental. Jae, however, has mastered the mind powers needed to control and repel the insect aggrivators. It was beautiful, and even with the invisible irritation, we had a great time and we saw some unique and interesting nature. I have been living in a climate where the bugs aren't too intrusive in a wooded setting and forget other areas have enough bugs to make up the difference.
The below excerpt was taken from The Cape Cod National Seashore website, under the "Places" subsection.
The Beech Forest Trail is a 1-1/2 mile loop that skirts the Beech Forest Pond and travels through a forest dominated by beech trees, which once were much more numerous on Outer Cape Cod. The area is gradually being inundated by migrating sand. It is a rewarding area for bird watching, especially for sighting warblers in the spring and fall.
The picture above is taken of the Atlantic Ocean from a different part of Cape Cod National Seashore Park. There is a great looking network of biking trails all throughout the dunes and shore vegetation. I was advised when I visited not to stray off of trails because there is a large quantity of poison ivy that grows in large quantities all over. Most of the trails were paved, as shown below. Grapenut took the photograph below in a prior visit:
We didn't have bikes, you could rent them at many places in Provincetown if you couldn't bring your own. We spent so much time doing all sorts of other things that we were pretty booked, and decided we have to return to try out different things and revisit awesome things.
Friday, October 07, 2005
It's kind of interesting seeing the large and varied response and reporting on allthe different subjects. A lot of republican in-trouble reltaed things being written lately, here's all the fun current subjects and links to tons of pages about it:
In The News
Mohamed ElBaradei Harriet Miers
Karl Rove Ho Chi Minh City
Katrina and Rita Adam Gilchrist
Rolling Stones Japan Open
General Electric Atlanta Braves
I wonder how much of this is paid advertising driven, paid for by these corporate driven freaks. I also suppose some of this is drived from relevant searches, and there's so much listed on the main page I suppose you could get really caught up with the amont of topics. Over-stimilus.
On a side note, I debated weather or not I would capitalize the word "God" or not. I don't really think he was an actual being, but something more of a ficticuous nature. After some consideration, I decided to capitalize it because it's a name, and in general I capitalize names.
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
I have a couple of theories. One is that a larger percentage of the U.S. either doesn’t get along with their parents, or just doesn’t care about needy old people that gave them shit most of their lives. The other theory is that some of these old people require so much care, can be so helpless and needy that other family members become desensitized or emotionally detached from the whole situation. Another theory I have is that the general number of people in the world has increased dramatically with each passing year, so the number of old people dying due to negligence or murder (including euthanasia if the party isn’t mentally competent to make an informed decision about ending their life) is staying the same throughout the ages, the number of us is just increasing.
Monday, October 03, 2005
Blueberries are awesome. This coffee cake is good anytime, but especially good on a rainy Sunday morning. For best results, grease your pan ahead of time and put in refrigerator until you are ready to fill. I regret to say I don’t have any pictures of the coffee cake. We completely polished it off. It was really good with a cup of strong coffee. No kidding! Where the recipe calls for margarine, I use soy margarine, either Earth Balance or some other kind of generic brand, but it could be whatever you are used to using. Use sticks, not spreads. And try not to use something with artificial ingredients, it will only take away from the taste and accelerate the impending demise of your toxin-soaked body
For the cake you will need:
8x8 or 9x9 pan, greased w/ soy margarine
1-½ cups of flour
2 tbsp of baking powder (non-aluminum, read the label and make sure aluminum isn’t an ingredient)
½ tsp of salt
¾ cup of sugar
¼ cup softened margarine (1/2 stick)
¾ cup of soymilk
½ tsp of cinnamon
1 tsp vanilla
For the topping:
4 tbsp of flour
4 tbsp of brown sugar
¼ cup cold margarine
½ tsp of cinnamon
1 cup of fresh or frozen fresh blueberries
1 cup chopped walnuts
In a large bowl, mix flour, baking powder, salt and sugar with a wire whisk or spoon. Add margarine, soymilk, cinnamon and vanilla, and mix very well, with an electric mixer if you can. You can get a cheap one from your local strip mall everything stores. It really makes a difference. Using a rubber spatula or spoon, scrape batter into greased 8x8 pan.
Spread blueberries over entire top of cake batter, and lightly press in.
Prepare the topping in a separate bowl; mix flour, cinnamon and brown sugar. Cut in the ¼ cup of margarine with a pastry cutter or fork. Lightly mix in chopped walnuts. Sprinkle over blueberries, covering the blueberries completely (if a few peek out that’s all right).
Bake at 350 degrees for 35-35 minutes. When an inserted knife comes out of the center clean (except for blueberry goo) the cake is done. Let cake sit at room temperature for 30 minutes before eating, the blueberries get so hot they are nuclear and will cause sustaining injury if eaten before proper cooling has been ensured.
Marcus has mixed feelings, he goes from seeming a little down and extra needy for attention, to staring out of the window for long periods, although he’s always done that. He’ll rest his chin on his little paws and look really upset. Then he’ll swing to the other end of the spectrum, and race around yowling and he’s the fun happy quivering-tail cat.
On the lighter side, I guess my cat contingency plan is working. When my last cat died, I was so upset, that I felt if I got another cat I would get two, that way if something happened to one I wouldn't be so sad. I guess, as Kramer would say, "It's up to the cat, now."
Where the heck is Jim? Dammit, Jim!