The Daily Brief

My recent rant about “American Idiot” has brought Robin out of his/her cave. In his/her latest comment Robin writes:

That album totally trashes your belief system, your government and the man you elected president. I DO think it’s funny that you’re all happily plugging it regardless; I suppose “lefties” have all the best tunes eh?

In this and in other comments he/she’s made I get the idea that Robin is “not from around these parts.”

In response to his/her comment and to enlighten folks who may not be from America who look at us like we’re some sort of weird animal, let me give you some of my thoughts on these United States.

First of all, we LOVE to argue. No…perhaps that’s not strong enough…maybe you don’t get the full force of that. Some of us (blush) will argue a point we don’t believe in just for the mental exercise. When I was living in Germany I had a hard time explaining to a German friend of mine, what debating was. He didn’t seem to know enough English and my Deutsch sucks…so our boss was called in and he laughed and said a word I don’t remember and my German friend looked even more confused…”You take classes in word-fighting?!!!” Yes…we do. Some people even major in it…that’s called “Pre-Law.” That he understood.

The other thing that we Americans have the ability to do is to agree with a political party on one set of issues, while completely disagreeing with them on others. In my lifetime, we’ve had Kennedy Republicans, Reagan Democrats and (at least in ’92) Clinton Republicans. In my hometown of Chicago, many Democrats are much more conservative than say…Arnold Schwarzenneger.

Unless you’re working for a particular party or unless you have no other interests but politics, there are very few “true believers” in the population at large. Most folks are just too busy living their lives. The far right and the far left get a lot of press because…well, they’re the extremes and boring has never sold commercial minutes on news channels.

Now how does any of this relate to how I, a seemingly patriotic member of the U.S. armed forces, can somehow express my passion for what I think is a really good album that so trashes all I apparently believe in?

Ya see for me, to truly love this country we absolutely must look at its whole and not just its parts and some of that whole is just plain ugly. When it comes to “American Idiot” I understand the rage…I understand thinking this country I love is often insane, paranoid, psychotic, schizophrenic, psychopathic, and just plain weird. When that rage is expressed well with angst and poignancy and killer riffs and backbeats that tickle my chest cavity and clever lyrics, I celebrate that. I revel in it.

There’s nothing more American than an artist, musician, comedian…whatever, saying “Pssst, come here.” Turning over a rock…”Take a look at this shit. Look what I see under here.”

I don’t object to criticism of my government, I object to ignorant criticism of my government. I object to base and low criticism of my government. I object to criticism of my government based on someone else’s political agenda or worse yet, someone acting as a puppet for someone else’s political agenda. I object to criticism of my government by people who haven’t lifted a finger in their own defense in over half a century, letting us do their dirty work and then bitching about how we covered their ass.

Real life American rage expressed well…I’m all about that shit…whether I agree with it or not.

Yes, little Miss Target Sales Associate Gay Boy, I do know what “Limited Edition” means. And since we’re being bitchy, putting your hand on your hip and sticking it out to the side while popping your gum does not hide the fact that red makes you look fat. Snap THAT, BEEEE-OTCH! And no, it’s not because you’re a flaming Mary, it’s because you’re a bitch. I find flaming Marys entertaining in that, “What will they do next?” sort of way. Now begone, you have no power here.

Thanks to the folks at Walmart. The new DVDs are in the front right next to the entrance where I want them. And they have lots of lines open on military paydays too. Very convenient…if not for the drive…and that freaking parking lot.

To the little gal at the service window at McDonald’s. Thanks for smiling and being professional and polite even after that dickhead in front of me chewed you out so the entire world could hear how he ordered two Double Quarter Pounders w/Cheese not one…as if we couldn’t tell by looking at him.

And they say no one really does irony anymore.

Via Protein Wisdom.

UPDATE: Stryker practices the fine art of deconstruction.

Yeah, I said it, and I meant it too. Furthermore, I intend to say it a LOT more before the next couple weeks are done. And you know what else? I’m going to be in uniform when I say it sometimes. You know why? Because it’s freedom OF religion not freedom FROM religion.

Then again, I’m in Nebraska…it’s not all that weird around here.

Okay, here’s the deal. I’m going to be home MOST Of the day…except when I’m tossing the football around with my son or beating myself up at the gym. So why don’t we just all post our bestest, most favorite-ist Thanksgiving Recipes? It’s still early for most of us…we can still run to the store if we see something we MUST have. I don’t cook on Thanksgiving…Beautiful Wife has the holidays down pat. I’m more of a stew/chili/soup kind of cook.

————

Father Pat’s Cranberry Chutney

4 C Cranberries, whole
1 C seedless raisins
1 2/3 C sugar
1 T ground cinnamon
1 ½ tsp ground fresh ginger
¼ tsp ground cloves
1 C water
1 med onion, chopped (abt ½ C)
1 med apple, peeled, cored, and chopped
½ C thinly sliced celery (use the smallest stalks)

Combine cranberries, raisins, sugar, spices and water in a large non-aluminium saucepan and bring to boil.

When cranberries start to “pop” stir in the onion, apple and celery, bring back to a boil, then lower heat and simmer for about 15 minutes longer.

Refrigerate.

If put in sterilized jars and properly sealed, this can sit on the pantry shelf until needed.
Great with Turkey, Beef, Pork.
———–
Go ‘head, post your favorite to the comments.

Is it just me or did anyone else watch the Clinton Library Dedication yesterday with more than a bit of fondness for the ol’ rouge? And no, it doesn’t transfer over to Hillary…although I think we should all keep our eyes on young Chelsea…

“Stop hey-ey what’s that sow-wound, everybody look what’s goin’ dow-own.”

Warning, extreme spew alert! Do NOT drink coffee while reading.

A Sad American explains to the Democrats how they lost her vote.

Republicans need to read it too before they get their MANDATE rolling.

Via Kos.

I was watching The Daily Show the other night when Jon Stewart had New York Senator, Chuck Schumer as his guest. The two men were still in shock from the “ass paddling” (Stewart’s words) the Dems took on Tuesday. And Stewart had the key question and they both kind of missed the significance of it. Stewart said something along the lines of, “Are they right? Are we media elitists who are really THAT out of touch with the rest of the country?”

Yes, you are. And I understand it. When I joined the Air Force I had but one prejudice…Rednecks. Easy Bubbha, I got over it…no reason to get the Dale Earnhardt Commemerative Shotgun down off the wall…we’re cool. But back then I was from a CITY. I was EDUCATED. I was SMART. I knew a lot about THE ARTS. I was TOLERANT. Hence…better than you backwoods treckin’, gone fishin’, sheet wearin’, Jeezuz Lovin’, NASCAR watchin’ crackers who obviously wanted to be us dashing urbanites, but you didn’t know how. Yes…I was that stupid when I was young. Not only did I not know but worse, I didn’t know that I didn’t know…ya know?

Hence the problem with most Urban Dwelling Democrats today. They don’t know that they don’t know. Tolerant of minorites? Sure. Tolerant of Gays? Of course. Tolerant of the folks who live outside the urban and suburban concrete and asphalt mazes and who actually believe in their God, in their country, in their family? Dear…don’t be droll, it doesn’t become you.

Blackfive describes his problems voting in the 42d Ward in da great city of Chicago.

I’d like to tell you I’m shocked, but folks, lets not forget, it’s Chicago. Home of, “Vote early and vote often.” We love politics in da city. We love it so much, sometimes we vote twice. We love it so much, sometimes we don’t quit votin’ after we’re dead. Dat’s just da way it is. Now I need a sammich and a way to get dis southside accent out of my head.

If I’m watching the President and Governor Schwarzenegger during a campaign event and I think to myself, “These guys need new material.” does that mean that the President has become a celebrity or that Arnie has become a politician? Or is this part of some greater disillusionment or alieanation leading me to believe that maybe Al Franken was in reality funny more often than “Deep Thoughts?”

Let’s take that further, if Jon Bon Jovi and John Edwards are on the same stage, which one’s going to win the commercial hair care contract when this gig’s over? Will Jackson Brown sing The Loadout?

More »

Soldier Reportedly Attacked At Concert
Barton Cannot Return To Iraq Due To Injuries

POSTED: 5:54 pm EDT September 20, 2004
UPDATED: 10:15 am EDT September 21, 2004
COLUMBUS, Ohio — A local soldier back from the war in Iraq said he was beaten at an area concert because of what was printed on his T-shirt, NBC 4’s Nancy Burton reported.

Foster Barton, 19, of Grove City, received a Purple Heart for his military service in Iraq. He almost lost his leg last month after a Humvee he was riding in ran over a landmine.

Barton said he was injured again Friday night in a crowded parking lot as he was leaving the Toby Keith concert at Germain Amphitheatre. The solider was injured so badly that he can’t go back to Iraq as scheduled.

“I don’t remember getting hit at all, really,” said Barton, a member of the 1st Calvary Division. “He hit me in the back of the head. I fell and hit the ground. I was knocked unconscious and he continued to punch and kick me on the ground.”

Barton and his family said he was beat up because he was wearing an Iraqi freedom T-shirt.

“It’s not our fault,” Barton said. “I’m just doing a job.”

According to a Columbus police report, six witnesses who didn’t know Barton said the person who beat him up was screaming profanities and making crude remarks about U.S. soldiers, Burton reported.

One witness, a friend of the alleged attacker, said Barton hit first. Police said they do not think that witness is credible since the six other witnesses said Barton was hit from behind.

Look people, I don’t give a good…….. flip …… about whether you support the war or not. You’re entitled to your opinions. But there is absolutely NO EFFIN EXCUSE for hitting someone in the back of the head and then punching and kicking them so much that they can’t go back to do their job.

I don’t have polite words right now…. I just want to punch somebody. I’m just really, really ticked. And a little bit disillusioned. *sigh*

Thanks to Citizen Smash

update: You know what really burns me? I want so much to blame this on the anti-war peace activists, and there’s not enough info in the article for me to make that assumption. It could just be a redneck dirtbag (yes, we have some of those in Ohio) who thought it would be fun to punch a soldier. It bothers me that my immediate instinct is to blame those who I disagree with. I thought (hoped?) I was more civilized/rational than that.

Quotes from the most unintentionally funny article I’ve read in quite some time:

One wore a yellow T-shirt and held a McDonald’s bag.

The man with the yellow shirt and the McDonald’s bag sat across the aisle from us

The man in the yellow T-shirt got out of his seat and went to the lavatory at the front of coach — taking his full McDonald’s bag with him. When he came out of the lavatory he still had the McDonald’s bag, but it was now almost empty

After the Saga of the McDonald’s Bag, it becomes an espionage novel:

Before he could finish his statement, the flight attendant pulled him into the galley. In a quiet voice she explained that they were all concerned about what was going on. The captain was aware. The flight attendants were passing notes to each other. She said that there were people on board “higher up than you and me watching the men.”

Approximately 10 minutes later, that same flight attendant came by with the drinks cart. She leaned over and quietly told my husband there were federal air marshals sitting all around us. She asked him not to tell anyone and explained that she could be in trouble for giving out that information. She then continued serving drinks.

About 20 minutes later the same flight attendant returned. Leaning over and whispering, she asked my husband to write a description of the yellow-shirted man sitting across from us. She explained it would look too suspicious if she wrote the information. She asked my husband to slip the note to her when he was done.

Wait a minute–

The interrogators seemed especially interested in the McDonald’s bag

No one inspected the contents of the two instrument cases or the McDonald’s bag.

One thing’s for sure: It probably wasn’t carrying a McRib.

But I wonder, if 19 terrorists can learn to fly airplanes into buildings, couldn’t 14 terrorists learn to play instruments?

This one’s made the rounds at work and has become the comedy du jour of the moment. It’s been suggested that it be made into a Lifetime Movie of the Week, with a title like, “Not Without My Oboe” or “Big Mac Attack: Terror at 30,000 Feet” or “Incident at the Loo: A Woman’s Struggle” or “The Man in the Yellow T-Shirt: A Moment of Truth Story”.

I’ve been watching VH-1 this weekend, and I think I can safely say that I really don’t Love the 90’s. I like the 90’s, but not in that way. I think we should be friends, or even better, aquaintances who don’t keep in touch. In fact, there are only three good things that came out of the 90’s:

1. My wife

2. My kid

3. Living in Japan

Everything else pretty much sucked hind tit.

When I think of the 90’s, the impression that immediately comes to mind is: Bitchfest. The decade seemed like one long whine. The first few notes from Nirvana’s Smells Like Teen Spirit were the birth cry of that decade, but little did we know that the anger-infused sound of ’91 would give way to the pussies of Staind and Limp Bizkit at the end of the decade.

What made Nirvana, Alice in Chains, and Soundgarden cool wasn’t the piercing wails of their frontmen, but the genuine hard rock backing up those vocals, as well as their distinct sounds–there’s no way you’ll ever confuse Soundgarden with Nirvana. When you finally get to the ass-end of the decade, you have bands that all appear to be clones of each other and who whine about how little attention their parents paid to them. What makes them even more pathetic is that these were grown men (and sometimes women) who were in their mid-20’s and singing about things that only a 12 year old would care about. These bands were a joke; a marketing concoction specifically focused on the ‘tween and early teen set. How else do you explain a 27 year old man whining about his Dad? Cha-ching! Another 14 year old has his “Life is Unfair” worldview validated by another geezer who’s whining all the way to the bank.

Most of my blame for this crap rests squarely with Nirvana, though to be fair, you can hardly blame that fuck-up Cobain for the actions of those lesser lights who followed in his path. There’s a unique quality to the Nirvana-brand of bitching that sets it apart from the Latter Day Alternative Pussies. There was a gutteral anger coming from Cobain that was backed up by music that fucking rocked. Those that attempted to mimic him all came off like guys who figured that all they need for success were three chords in Drop-D tuning and some song bitching about the unfairness of it all. Nirvana was pissed. These poseurs just had their feelings hurt.

The whining, though, extended beyond music into almost all aspects of the culture. Reality Bites encapsulated the feeling of the early 90’s. My wife and I went to see this movie on our second date, but I didn’t really pay much attention to the film. I remember that it had a lot to do with the general malaise of the Gen-X crowd and how our futures were going to suck. I remember reading plenty of magazine articles about Gen-X and how ours was to be the first generation of Americans whose standard of living would be about the same or worse than that of our parents. We were to be the first generation to come of age in a country in decline. Steel mills were closing down, the Rust Belt was on the verge of mass impoverishment, American jobs were being lost to cheap labor overseas, and American companies were abandoning our country for greener pastures in foreign lands. Then the tech boom hit, and everyone quickly forgot about all that.

I moved to Japan in ’95 and lived there until ’99. From my point of view, those years were the Era of Good Feeling. The whole “Life Sucks” weight seemed to lift and it was time to party. I don’t know if things were really like that, or if that’s the way it seemed to someone watching everything from the outside, but I remember the mid to late 1990’s as being a generally good time. The vapid, poppy music made a comback and Americans seemed to be more interested in harmless and stupid things. The culture certainly seemed to reflect that and that was certainly fine by me. I would much rather deal with lightweight, poppy, and ultimately harmless fluff than the Gloomy Gus crap that defined the early 90’s.

The vanguard of this poppy, carefree America were of course the boy bands and Britney Spears. Like their Alterna-Whine colleagues, they were concoctions specifically created and marketed to ‘tween and early teen girls, but I have a startling admission to make: I kind of liked them. I don’t know why. I shouldn’t like them, and that ironic smart-ass in me recoils from the likes of the Backstreet Boys, but I grudgingly admit to singing along with Quit Playing Games With My Heart on more than one occasion. I can’t help it. The songs are catchy and they have a nice melody. Jesus, when “MmmmBop” comes on the radio, I can’t change the station. Hell, I don’t care. Like they said in The Crow, “It can’t rain all the time.” Sometimes, you gotta let go of all the heavy shit and just feel happy and carefree, if only for a little while. If not, you just become a boring and depressing person whom no one can stand to be around.

I came back to America just as the cosmic odometer hit 00, and I swear it was like I’d never left. It seemed like everyone was still moaning about something and the future was still going to suck. Of course, I got back just as the tech bubble burst, so that probably had a lot to do with it. American culture is on a cycle just like the economy. For a few years everything seems gloomy, then all of a sudden, everyone seems to be having a good time. A few years later, everything sucks again. I think I managed to leave America just as it hit the peak of the cycle and returned just as it rolled back into the valley. The only problem is that we’ve yet to climb out of that valley. The terrorist attacks certainly didn’t help in that regard, but I’m thinking that I have to leave the country again so the rest of you can get back to having a good time. I swear I’m that proverbial dude who’s absence is essential to having a good time. For example: “Dude, you missed it! Right after you left, things got crazy!” Likewise: “Dude, you should’ve been here a little while ago! It was awesome!”

Except in this case, it’s an entire country and not just a party. If I stay here for the entire decade, I don’t think we’ll be seeing “I Love the 00’s” on VH-1 in 2014.