According to the New York Times, One in five adult Americans thinks the sun revolves around the earth. Only about 10% of us know what radiation is.

How in the hell do we expect our country to make good decisions? Without better education, Democracy is a doomed, pointless, failure. Give me a dictator over a Democracy filled with an uninformed populus.

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Have you heard of the “Free State Project”? A couple years ago, some libertarians tried a (largely unsuccessful, so far) project to have libertarians start moving to New Hampshire until they could democratically take over the local and state governments.

The Christian right has a similar movement called “Christian Exodus” where their goal is to take over South Carolina annd set it up as a “religious state”, succeeding from the Union if necessary.

Hmm… The hard core fundamentalist religious right wants to succeed from the Union?

Finding it hard to get too upset about this one. Of course, if I lived in South Carolina, it might be different.

Fred Phelps, a member of the church that frequently claims “God Hates Fags” in frequently extra-specially callous methods is at it again. This time he’s targeting dead soldiers.

I hate hate. I am intolerant to intolerance. I certainly can’t say I never display either trait, but I dislike it in myself as much as in anyone else.

As to the whole “God hates fags” sentiment, I recently heard a pretty good take on it. To paraphrase:

I don’t have a problem with God, but his fan club can really tick me off sometimes.

---

Speaking of God, I meant to post this last week, but in the meantime, a lot of people have beat me to it.

.

When I first heard about the Intelligent Design being taught in public schools, I thought it was one of the “renaming PI” sort of things. A short lived movement of scientifically illiterates that wasn’t going to go anywhere.

Turns out, I was wrong. Rather than getting into details on it, I’d recommend reading Bobby Henderson’s letter to the Kansas School Board at http://www.venganza.org/. Not only is Flying Spaghetti Monsterism (or Pastafarianism) a lovely way to explain the issue, the “tenants” of the religion are hilarious, and reading the letter gets pretty damn funny. I mean, really, how many letters have a “Global Average Temperature Vs. Number of Pirates” graph?

I should note, however, that I find the “religious” views of some scientists to be as annoying as the “you’re wrong, we’re right” claims made by some people of faith. All science is working models. The only “truth” in science is the value of the methods, but all the rest is useful models that allow us to explore how things work. They’re all waiting to be replaced with a better working model.

If can’t accept that you might be wrong, you probably are.

---

Obviously, making a statement regarding harming the POTUS is a crime. Apparently, making a statement that it might be a nice thing to harm other public officials is also a crime (not stating that you will do it, but that you’ld like to.) However, Pat Robetson’s statement that ` president Hugo Chavez should be assassinated is, for some reason, A-OK. *sigh*

---

Things on the personal front are going well. Everything’s not “all better”, but a couple binges aside, last week ended up being pretty well spent, and I’ve got a pretty clear idea of some things I need to do in order to improve things. Of course, the challenge is, sticking to it and doing them.

---

That was going to be the end of this post, but someone in the office I’m currently working at just played a song that was a lounge version of NIN’s Closer. Turns out that the musician is Richard Cheese. He’s got three albums: “Lounge Against the Machine”, “Tuxicity”, “I’d Like a Virgin”, and “Aperitif For Destruction”.

What’s he sound like? To steal a quote from his web site: “Just imagine Sinatra singing a Nirvana song, and you’ve got Dick.”

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I’m still planning on switching over to LiveJournal, but I want to make it look a bit more customized first.

After I switch over to LiveJournal, I still intend to maintain my email subscription to Xanga so I can keep up with the people who only post here. The email notification on comments and comment threading on LJ is nifty.

---

Still feeling a bit light headed…

I’m more used to the drastic hair cut, although it is a bit weird when my old habits encounter the new reality.

After sleep and a shower, I’ve come to realize it is a pretty normal haircut. It was just whatever the stylist did with it that made me look like I wanted to be on the TV show Friends. In related news, I’d forgotten about that cowlick on the back of my head. *sigh*

In trying to integrate a bit more meditation and exercise in my daily routine, I’ve discovered a few things:

• My internal alarm clock seems to be working better recently
• I am hellishy out of shape: strength, form, and flexibility are all inexcusably poor.
• My ability to meditate is also “out of shape”. Even attempts at proper deep breathing seemed to catch up on my internals somewhere.

We’ll see how it goes with a bit more work. The odd thing is, I’ve apparently lost a fair amount of weight (clearly from somewhere other than the belly/low back). I’m within 10 pounds of where I was at in college, but distributed far more poorly.

The inability to meditate was the most interesting revelation. I’ve never been able to sit for a long period of time without a fair amount of “work”, but I can generally breathe fairly well. Three to five breathes to relax, and thirty to fifty to get my mind somewhat cleared.

This morning, however, after 10 minutes, I still couldn’t take a proper deep breath. I think this is definitely a sign of carrying some excess tension, but I’m not sure if it means anything more.

On a nicer front, I ate some tomatoes from my garden yesterday and did some pruning and weeding. The fruit was good, and the plants look a bit happier. Gardening almost always helps get me a bit more grounded.

I’m pretty sure I will cut over to using LiveJoural instead of Xanga at some point. Waste of a premium account, and its a new system to learn *grumble*, but the ability to find stuff in the archives is way better as is the friends and grouping flexibility.

I’m not sure I’ll be able to do things like the “[let it snow]” link over on the right, but I don’t think that’s too big of a loss.

---

Where’s that breeze coming from?

Sometimes, when I’m not happy with myself or with where my life is at, I feel somewhat self destructive. One of my traditional responses to this feeling is to cut off all my hair (for those who don’t know me, I have somewhat longer brown hair).

Well, rather than breaking out the trimmer and razor blade this time, I decided to do something productive with some of those dead skin cells. Thanks to Great Clips and Locks of Love, my head weighs less, and some kid is going to get a nice brown wig.

The odd thing about doing this at a hair cutting place rather than the bathroom is I now have the first “hair style” I can remember having since before I could legally go to a bar. I didn’t really know what would work well, so I gave the stylist pretty free reins. It looked all schmantzy when I was done, but the motorcycle helmet soon took care of that. Just as well, it was a bit too … trendy.

For those who see me, please be kind as I try and figure out how to use a comb for something other than removing snarls.

I’ve had a livejournal account for some time, but haven’t used it, other than to leave a few comments. I’m going to start double posting here and there, and see if I want to switch.

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The Minnesota Renaissance Festival has started, and for some reason, I haven’t been able to get excited about going.

This is really strange to me as I have always enjoyed going (or working there) and I miss it.

I used to work there but haven’t last year or this year. I still subscribe to the MRFFriends mailing listserve and keep up to date with the gossip, drama, and goings on. Until just now, I hadn’t even been able to ask the webmaster to change my listing to read that I no longer work there.

I went last year, and did have fun seeing people, but it was kind of like looking through the window at a party that you know is a lot of fun but that you no longer belong at.

I miss it, its going on right now, but yet…

Interestingly, I kind of get the same feeling when I go back to Ground Zero now. All the staff are great to me, and I know I could work there in a heartbeat if I wanted to, but yet, going there is no longer the same.

For some reason, I no longer dance. I’ve seldom been able to dance without a little liquid fortification, but its been ages since I’ve danced. I think the last time was at a Violent Femmes concert.

I feel like the fun has gone out of my life. Drinking is a vice that makes me clumsy and less aware. Smoking will cost me. Other drugs will get me locked away, or worse, turn me into an empty shell. World of Warcraft will suck hours of my life away that I should spend doing more productive things. Motorcycling burns fossil fuels which gets us into wars and destroys the environment. Camping brings out an uptight complainer in me that I’m not sure used to be there. Even cooking burns natural gas (or coal generated electricity) which brings us back to that fossil fuel thing.

It isn’t to say that I don’t still enjoy a drink, that I still don’t enjoy going for a ride, that I still don’t enjoy camping, that cooking doesn’t give me happiness, but it seems like so many things I like to do have some sort of taint to it. I feel like Peter Pan is dying and my attempts to revive him will only raise a zombie, a shade.

And now, Joy and I are having some difficulties. We had a nice vacation together, but things took a sharp turn for the worse when we got home. Historically, this has been a tough time of year for us, but knowing that doesn’t make it hurt less. Doesn’t keep the food from tasting a bit like ash. Doesn’t keep the fear at bay.

I walked almost 8 miles yesterday, but instead of calming and enjoying myself, I felt like I was caught in a feedback loop of frustration. Ok, there was a cool moment watching woodchucks, but then some bicyclists came along and chased them with their bikes.

And politics? Even thinking about politics makes me want to grab the nearest weapon I can find and start laying waste. So much greed and hate, its poison.

The worst part of it is, over the past 3 or 4 years, I’ve been liking myself less and less. I used to feel like I was a great guy, but that has been falling away as I’ve been exposed to the consequences of my actions and behaviors.

The fire that used to make me relatively successful seems to have burned out, and now, I’ve come to realize, I don’t think I’m even very interesting any more.

I know I can get it back together. I can stop making the mistakes that I regret. I can start being productive or interesting or something again. I have no right to this frustration. I was raised by loving parents, born to one of the wealthiest nations on earth, given more advantages than the vast majority of people born on this planet. I am a white, male, english speaker. I am healthy, and I am educated. The world is at my fingertips (and it is), what right do I have to this self pity?

…

A book I recently read, written in the early 1900s, had an interesting characterization of vampires.

Vampires were not the undead, they were the living dead. Each of us must take from the world and the people around us in order to exist. Everything we consume has to come from somewhere, all the energy we get comes from somewhere. However, people who are alive give a great deal back to the world as well. They add to the energy of the world, the thoughts, the creativity, the hope, the life. Once something has stopped giving, it becomes dead. If it doesn’t have the decency to stop existing at the same time, it is vampiric. (I say “it” because the author thought ideas and concepts could be vampires as well)

I feel like I’m on the road to becoming a vampire, and I don’t want to be.

This post was a thought evolving as it was written – I only meant to write about the fest. It will be interesting to see if having thought/written it makes a difference.

From the fest list:

Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, red wine in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming ~ “WOO HOO what a ride!”

The only fear is burning it out before the end of the ride.

Helmet Laws

According to this CNN article, motorcycle fatalites have gone up significantly since Florida repealed their mandatory helmet law. Over a three year period before and after the repeal, deaths increased by 81%.

The cost of hospital care has also risen significantly – from $10 million to $44 million in a 30 month period.

On the one hand, I don’t think the government has any place telling us what risks we can or can not take. I should be able to skydive, swim, rock climb, motorcycle, mountain bike, rappel, skateboard, or box as I choose. My life, my body, my choice.

On the other hand, I don’t think other people should be responsible for picking up the medical costs associated with damage I take from the risky choices I might make.

Unfortunately, the article does not specify who is paying for the increased medical costs. If it is covered by the motorcyclists or their insurance, I don’t think it should have any legal consideration. If the state is picking up the tab, there is an issue.

So what’s the right course of action?

Florida took an interesting approach, requiring at least $10k in medical insurance if you choose to ride without a helmet. I’m not sure how that’s working out for them.

In terms of insured motorcylists, I think insurance companies should be able to offer two policy types: A less expensive helmet required policy, or a more expensive wear it or not policy. If you purchase the helmet required policy and get in an accident without a helmet, the insurance company would not be on the hook for any medical costs associated with the head trauma.

However, how would that work if one had socialized health care? Maybe one could purchase a “helmet free” liscense plate that would cost a bit more but go into the health funds or something.

I dunno. Just rambling.

So what about the people that don’t have insurance, take stupid risks, and get hurt? Is society required to take care of them? If you apply it to motorcycle helmets and seat belts, what about driving in general? Eating at McDonalds? Smoking? Jaywalking? Living in an urban area?

From my motorcycle list:

FREE BEER

An Irishman, an Englishman, and a Scot were sitting in a bar. The view was fantastic, the beer excellent, and the food exceptional.

“Y’know” said the Scot, “I still prefer the pubs back home. Why in Glasgow there’s a little bar called McTavish’s where the owner will buy your 5th drink after you buy 4.”

“Well” said the Englishman, “at my local, the Red Lion, the barman there will buy your 3rd drink after you buy the first 2.”

“Ahhh that’s nothing” said the Irishman. “Back home in Dublin there’s Ryan’s bar. Now the moment you set foot in the place they’ll buy you a drink, then another, all the drinks you like. Then when you’ve had enough they’ll take you upstairs and see that you get laid. All on the house.” The Englishman and the Scot immediately pour scorn on the Irishman’s claims

He swears every word is true.

“Well” said the Englishman, “did this actually happen to you?”

“No, not me personally,” said the Irishman. “But it did happen to me sister.”

Ah. Good old double standards.

Grabbed from my motorcycle list:

Recently I mailed a can of DuPonte Teflon Multipurpose Lubricant to [SNIP] in Australia. He had been following the thread about it in the product reviews section and wanted to try some but it is not available yet down under. I told him that there was a story behind it but that it was too long to get into and I would tell him the story when I had time to type it up. Well the conversation I had with the postal worker was typical bureaucratic nonsense and I thought that some of you might find it amusing too. So Barry (and anyone else who is interested), here it is…..

When mailing outside of the U.S. there is a customs form which need to be filled out. On the form you must state specifically what the package contents are. Being lazy and not wanting to write 1 can of DuPonte Teflon Multipurpose Lubricant on the form, I just wrote 1 can of WD-40, figuring that’s close enough and they will know what WD-40 is. What follows is a recap of the conversation that I had with the postal worker after I handed the package to him for mailing.

The first thing that he did was to weigh the package and enter the address into the computer to give me pricing options for shipping. While doing so there was a rattling sound that came from within the package.

Postal Worker: What’s that sound?
Me: There is a marble inside the can to help mix it up when you shake it.
Postal Worker: It says on the customs form that it contains a can of WD-40.
Me: Yes
Postal Worker: WD-40 doesn’t have a marble in the can. Why are you mailing a can of WD-40 to Australia?
Me: Why does it matter?
Postal Worker: Well this package sounds suspicious so I need to know.
Me: I am sending it to a friend because he can’t get it where he lives.
Postal Worker: I find it hard to believe that you can’t buy WD-40 in Australia.
Me: Well actually it’s not WD-40 it’s DuPonte Teflon Multipurpose Lubricant. It’s kind of new and they are not marketing it in Australia yet.
Postal Worker: So why did you write WD-40 on the customs form?
Me: Because I am lazy and didn’t want to write DuPonte Teflon Multipurpose Lubricant in that tiny little box on the form and figured that WD-40 was close enough that customs would know what it was.
Postal Worker: Well it says on the form that you must write the exact contents, not something that is “close enough.”
Me: Ok I’ll fill out a new form.
Postal Worker: You can’t
Me: Why not?
Postal Worker: Because you have already given me the package and once it is received by a postal worker we can only deliver it to the intended recipient, we can’t give it back to you.
Me: So what happens if the package is undeliverable?
Postal Worker: Well in that case we would deliver it to the return address on the package.
Me: Well the return address on the package is my address, so why can’t you just give it to me?
Postal Worker: Because we have not yet determined the package undeliverable.
Me: OK so what needs to be done at this point to mail the package?
Postal Worker: Well since the package sounds suspicious it will have to be inspected.
Me: Fine, open it up.
Postal Worker: I can’t, only a customs inspection agent can do that. So I will have to send it to customs to have it inspected before it gets mailed.
Me: well if you give it to me, I can open it up and show you what’s inside and then tape it back up.
Postal Worker: Well we’ve already established the fact that I can’t give it back to you.
Me: Fine do whatever needs to be done. I don’t understand what the big deal is.
Postal Worker: Well sir since 911 we have some stricter guidelines that we must conform to because of the threat of terrorism.
Me: The threat of terrorism? It’s not like I am sending this to the White House or the Pentagon. If I were going to send a mail bomb or something like that, why would I be sending it to some guy in Western Australia?
Postal Worker: I’m just doing my job.
Me: Yes, I understand that but wouldn’t it be a lot easier if I just filled out a new form?
Postal Worker: I can’t do that. I will have to send this package to customs and have it inspected, and you have already admitted to lying on the form and I must inform you that is a federal offence.
Me: So arrest me then, I understand that being a postal worker is a thankless job but do you really have to be an asshole every minute of your life?
Postal Worker: Threatening a civil servant is a federal offence.
Me: I didn’t threaten you; I just called you an asshole. Is there a law against that?
Postal Worker: No but it’s totally un-called for and I am not the one who started this by falsifying a customs document.
Me: Sorry but this is just starting to irritate me. All I want to do is mail this package. So just tell me what I need to do to get that done. If you have to send the package to customs for inspection or whatever then fine, do it. All I need to know is if there is anything else that I need to do.
Postal Worker: Well at this point all you have to do is pay the postage.
Me: OK fine but what happens if I refuse to pay the postage.
Postal Worker: Well then I would have to refuse to accept the package and give it back to you.
Me: Well just a minute ago you said that you couldn’t give the package back to me.
Postal Worker: Well once the postage is paid and the package is accepted I can’t give it back to you but you have not paid the postage so the package has not been officially accepted.
Me: So then what you told me a minute ago about not being able to give me back the package was all bullshit and if I refuse to pay the postage you will have to give it back to me.
Postal Worker: Well I wouldn’t put it that way.
Me: Bottom line, if I refuse to pay, you give the package back to me right?
Postal Worker: Yes
Me: Ok then I refuse to pay, so give the package back to me.

At this point the postal worker gave the package back to me, I went to another post office and filled out the form, correctly this time. Handed the package to a different postal worker and the package was accepted, transported and delivered with no further questions asked. So don’t lie on a customs form.

Bloody paranoid society. I don’t know whether the terrorists are winning or not, but we’ve definitely given ourselves some lumps about it.

From my motorcycle list:

I want to thank all of you who have taken the time and trouble to send me your damn chain letters over the past few years. Yes, thank you, thank you, thank you from the bottom of what’s left of my heart for making me feel safe, secure, blessed, and wealthy.

Because of your concern…I no longer can drink Coca Cola because it can remove toilet stains.

I no longer drink Pepsi or DR Pepper since the people who make these
products are atheists who refuse to put “Under God” on their cans.

I no longer drink anything out of a can because I will get sick from the rat feces and urine.

I no longer use Saran wrap in the microwave because it causes cancer.

I no longer check the coin return on pay phones because I could be pricked with a needle infected with AIDS.

I no longer use cancer-causing deodorants even though I smell like a water buffalo on a hot day.

I no longer use margarine because it’s one molecule away from being plastic.

I no longer go to shopping malls because someone will drug me with a perfume sample and rob me.

I no longer receive packages from UPS or Fed Ex since they are actually Al Qaeda in disguise.

I no longer answer the phone because someone will ask me to dial a stupid number for which I will get the phone bill from hell with calls to Jamaica, Uganda, Singapore, and Uzbekistan.

I no longer eat KFC because their chickens are actually horrible mutant freaks with no eyes or feathers.

I no longer date the opposite sex because they will take my kidneys and leave me taking a nap in a bathtub full of ice.

I no longer buy expensive cookies from Neiman Marcus since I now have their recipe.

I no longer worry about my soul because I have 363,214 angels looking out for me and St. Theresa’s novena has granted my every wish.

Thanks to you, I have learned that God only answers my prayers if I forward an email to seven of my friends and make a wish within five minutes. (Geez, the BIBLE did not mention it works that way!)

I no longer have any savings because I gave it to a sick girl who is about to die in the hospital (for the 1,387,258th time).

I no longer have any money at all, but that will change once I receive the $15,000 that Microsoft and AOL are sending me for participating in their special e-mail program.

Yes, I want to thank all of you soooooooo much for looking out for me!

I will now return the favor.

If you don’t send this e-mail to at least 1200 people in the next 60 seconds, a large bird with diarrhea will crap on your head at 5:00 PM this afternoon and the fleas of a thousand camels will infest your armpits

I know this will occur because it actually happened to a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend of my next door neighbor’s ex-mother-in-law’s 8th husband’s 2nd cousin’s 3rd husband’s ex-wife’s mother’s beautician

Chain letters aren’t quite as bad as spam…