Really?!?

http://www.cnn.com/2008/US/11/28/black.friday.violence/index.html?eref=rss_topstories

It's a wonder our species has made it this far.

Music: Skies Are Greedy

As I muddle my way through learning how to make music with my Mac, I figure I'll post the results here for you to listen to. Feel free to let me know what you think in the comments.

This song is "Skies Are Greedy." It's a cover of a song written by edP's friend, Rob Gondar. He recorded it with his band, Starch, back in the day. I tried to find Rob on the internets, but he seems to have fallen off the grid. Rob, if you're out there, I hope it's okay that I did this. I really love the song and, hopefully, I didn't wreck it.

If Rob ever gets in touch and says it's okay, I'll post a downloadable version.

Without further adieu, here's the song:

Thinking Deeper...

When life hands you lemons, pretend to drop them. When life looks down to see what happened, kick it in the nuts.

Breaking News

An area daddy was greeted by this gruesome scene tonight. Sources close to the incident report that, while the engine could sing about animal sizes and colors in a shrill voice, it was apparently unable to say, "Look out, penguin!"

Things that make me happy

I just saw a traffic cop chew a woman a new one for driving through a red light while she was talking on her cell phone. That made me happy.

Thinking Deeper...

Alka-Seltzer Plus® Night Cold Formula is really just foaming rufis...

The Soup Nutsy

So, I've been feeling under the weather lately and I went to Soupbox (which has awesome soup, by the way) to get myself some... well, soup. I was looking over my options while the woman in front of me ordered some vegetarian chili. The soup-server (soupstress?) ladled out a bowl of the chili and said,

"Are you a vegetarian?

"Yeah. I am," replied the woman.

"Really? Why?" queried the Soupstress.

"Well, lots of reasons, I guess.."

"Is it 'cause of the animals?"

"Well, partly. But it's really..."

"I gotta eat meat!" insisted the Soupstress.

"Well, that's okay. I mean..."

"I don't know how you go about not eatin' meat..." the Soupstress wondered out-loud.

The woman took her chili and looked looked around for support as she stepped cautiously down the hall to the cash register. The Soupstress turned to me.

"May I help you?"

"Sure. Can I get a large Rosemary Chicken? To go."

"Are you a vegetarian?"

"Well... I just ordered chicken soup."

"Yeah, but do you eat red meat and stuff?"

"Oh, yeah," I said. The Soupstress seemed almost disappointed by this, so I offered, "Well, I was vegetarian for about 10 years. Then, I broke up with this girl and, well... I already smoked and drank too much, so I went on a meat bender and haven't looked back."

"Oh, you're one of them," the Soupstress said with a knowing look.

For the life of me, I have no idea what she meant, but I matched her knowing look and nodded back at her.

Thinking Deeper...

Ellie and Edison have diapers that have pictures of Dora and Sesame Street characters on them. Why don't Depend®'s have pictures of Matlock or Murder She Wrote on them?

Space Manager

Tonight, Ellie put a colander on her head and said, what I have to assume was, "I am a space monster." But, it really sounded to me like, "I am a space manager." So, I said, "Okay. I'll get you my space-status by the end of the space-day." Then, this scene played out in my head:

Space-Employee #1: Space Manager, we appear to be headed directly into the heart of the star at the center of the Sigma 6 solar system.

Space Manager: Star, eh? (checks his space BlackBerry) Hunh... That's not on my calendar.

Space-Employee #1: Well, it's sort of a fire drill, sir. None of us really accounted for this in our project plans.

Space Manager: Okay. Can you queue up a meeting about it? My calendar should be up to date.

Space-Employee #1: Okay, but I suggest we move quickly on this one. We've got about 10 minutes before we all get incinerated. How's... now-ish for you?

Space Manager: (checks BlackBerry again) Well, I'm supposed to have a space-status meeting, but it looks like that got rescheduled to next week. Can I grab a space-coffee first?

Space-Employee #1: By all means.

CUT TO:

INTERIOR: Boardroom aboard a starship

Space Manager: Thanks for your time, everyone. It seems we've had something unexpected crop up - we're, apparently, headed directly for the center of a star and may be incinerated as a result. Can you bullshit-check me on that Space-Employee #1?

Space-Employee #1: That's correct, Space Manager.

Space Manager: So, today's agenda is to get some background on the situation, discuss possible strategies, and assign ownership of various tasks to execute on that strategy. Sound good? Okay. Space-Employee #1 has been kind enough to put together a brief PowerPoint presentation outlining the situation.

Space-Employee #1: Thanks, Space Manager. Slide 1 here shows our current-state, which is that we are about to plunge into the white-hot inferno in the belly of the Sigma 6 system's sun.

Space Manager: Nice clip art, Space-Employee #1.

Space-Employee #1: Thanks. Google image search... Slide 2 shows our desired future-state, which is not to plunge into the white-hot inferno in the belly of the star. What we need to do today is to come up with a detailed project plan that we can execute - one where each of us feels like we have ownership over some of the tasks.

Space Manager: Right. Thanks, Space-Employee #1. So... Does anyone have any suggestions for a roadmap to achieve our future-state vision?

Space-Employee #2: Well, sir. We could turn left.

Space Manager: Left... Any alternatives?

Space-Employee #3: What about turning right?

Space Manager: Hunh... Right? Any clear advantage to either approach?

Space-Employee #1: None that I'm aware of, sir.

Space Manager: Alright, then. Let's put it to a vote. All in favor of turning left? Okay, that's three. What about turning right? Okay. That's two plus myself, so three for right. We appear to have a deadlock... Okay, well unfortunately, I have a hard stop at noon. I suggest we form a subcommittee to perform due diligence on the approaches. Space-Employee #2, can you handle that?

Space-Employee #2: Absolutely.

Space Manager: Okay, great. Let's pick this up tomorrow morning and... What's that smell? Is that steak? Who's barbe...

Tipping Point (redux)

So, I nuked an earlier post that I wrote the day before the election. I nuked it because some of the comments made me go back and read the post a few times. After doing so I realized that, while the intention of the post was correct, the execution was flawed. The execution was flawed because I resorted to some terminology that distracted from the intent of the post. The intent, however, remains intact.

My post was not about the candidates themselves. My post wasn't even about the parties. The intent of the post was to draw attention to the fact that there were vectors in play in this election that threatened to expose the seedy underbelly of this great land. I heard that seedy underbelly spoken explicitly and stashed "between the lines" of people's statements in interviews. I have seen it played out in video footage from rallies and it turned my stomach. My fear was that the cancer of hate and fear had grown large enough that it would tilt the balance of ballot-box power enough to change the election.

America spoke last night, and my fears were overblown. The seedy underbelly is undeniably there, but it appears to be less prevalent than I was afraid it was. America spoke last night, and I feel something I haven't felt about our country in a while...

Hopeful.

Tonight

It is good.

Insight from Ellie Simone

Daddy: C'mon, Sweetie. Let's get your shoes on. We're going to go vote.

Ellie: A boat? Yay!

Daddy: Not a boat, Bean. "Vote." You know where do we live?

Ellie: Chicago.

Daddy: Right. Well, Chicago's inside a bigger place called Illinois, and Illinois is inside an even bigger place called the United States. We're going to vote for the person who will be in charge of the United States for the next four years. Who would you vote for?

Ellie: Paul.

Daddy: Paul? Our neighbor?

Ellie: Yeah.

Daddy: Not me?

Ellie: No.

Daddy: Why not? Why would you vote for Paul?

Ellie: Because Paul's a dad.

Daddy: Well, I'm a dad. I'm your dad. Besides, Sweetie, Paul's Irish. He isn't allowed to be president... and he's a terrorist.

Tipping Point

After re-reading this a few times, Bucky was right. I nuked the post.