The Limitations of Language: High School Students Recite the Pledge in Arabic, People Piss Themselves.

30 01 2013

I try not to be terribly combative in real life. It’s a struggle because I have a temper. I have discovered an activity that helps me be more patient and also helps me analyze political and social issues to a much more fine degree.

I read Todd Starnes’s Fox opinion blog. It’s a kind of like a conservative gawker in a weird way. His posts are very short and generally express anguish over something somebody else has done. He also enjoys declaring wars for others, like a liberal “war” on Christianity, or whatever.

So, some Colorado students as part of a multicultural club decided to say the Pledge of Allegiance in Arabic. People would’ve likely not gotten too upset if they had not used the  Arabic cognate “allah” instead of “god.”

Where my education lies, however, is not with Starnes, but with the comment section. It’s an opportunity for me to converse with those who disagree with me over almost everything. People get very upset with me, insult me, are sexist, degrading, or insult me for having gone to Berkeley. I’m kind of used to it.

Where I learn things, however, is in my use of Aristotelian rhetoric. I simply ask questions.

pos neg

U Mad?





I Fought the Batman and the Batman Won

13 08 2012

As I live and breathe, I live and breathe. I don’t often gush about my luck because mostly it’s rotten. I always seem to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. And just a night past I was yet again in that place.

But there was something different. Something good came out of the Darkness….

I am the night





A Hyatt Trek: My First ST Convention!

17 03 2011

It’s appalling that I haven’t been to a Star Trek Convention, isn’t it? You can say so. It’s completely pathetic. But, you know, I’m a bit of a pup yet and I haven’t previously been able to afford the event. You have to do it right, I discovered.

I’ll explain further





Senbazuru: Wishes for the End of Vengeance

14 03 2011

I woke up on a Friday feeling fresh, peaceful, surprisingly well rested. My roommate was still in his room having not left for work. He was standing watching his television.

“There were giant earthquakes in Japan,” his face was still, cold and pale as stone. He has a unique tie to Japan having spent time there and having made friends.

I feel the chilled stillness take my heart and I choke feeling unable to grasp any peaceful humor from a situation in which 10,000 people have washed up on the shores or crumbled with the earth of their country at this point. Nuclear emergency, swelling tsunamis, a fury of the shaking earth threatening a country with which my country has a strange and compelling relationship.

Let me explain





Another Rant about Hipsters amidst the noise.

6 01 2011

Everybody hates hipsters. “Look at this fucking hipster,” I hear you say. So, I want to engage this phenomenon before it dies. It will eventually fade away from discussion because they will become more ubiquitous. Too many young kids will grow up to be hipsters. It has already jumped the shark.

So I just want to talk about a specific group of phonies who fit this bill. I want to talk about the hipster as the opposite of somebody who has a lot invested in authenticity, sincerity, and the ability to take and give constructive and effective criticism. Hipsters can handle none of these things.

A lot of people embrace the American-Apparel and thrift-store aesthetic and that does not make them hipsters, necessarily. I have some shirts of American Apparel. They’re nice. I’m not a hipster. It’s unfair, I think, to categorize hipsters based on looks. That’s profiling, man.

the rest of this is deck





Pumpkin Thunkin: Thoughts on the Sophistication of Halloween.

29 10 2010

My buddies had a pumpkin-carving party that is becoming what I hope to be annual. Unfortunately I was sick and could not attend. Had I attended, however, I would’ve carved a complex design in homage to Batman’s Long Halloween into the side of an artfully selected orange beauty.

more candy





Time vs. Money vs. Effort: DIY and the Modern Era

22 10 2010

I am really not the type of person that muses on “the good old days.” I was born in 1988. The “good old days” for me included the Spice Girls.  So, really, I’m all about progress.

I do somewhat often muse on a three-pole dynamic of the first world: whether things should take time, money, or effort.

Effort to click





Crash Musings on Dada

9 09 2010

I was kind of obsessed with Dada at one point that I wrote 15 pages on it for a Seminar at Cal. Specifically, I wrote about the Cabaret Voltaire (Not the fucking band), which in Zurich was the height of Dadaist insane theater. Ball, Hennings, Tzara are all names associated. Philosopher, actress, scholar come together to make up an Avant-Garde so Avant-Garde I came to wonder if it’s ever actually possible to really be Dadaist at all.

blah blah blah





Nobody else is Hitler and Stalin Killed people.

4 03 2010

A while back on Sproul Plaza at Cal I had an encounter with some Larouche Underlings and a couple members of the defunct Communist party. Somehow they both managed to horrify me to my deepest core.

The Larouches sported posters of Obama with a Hitler ‘stache and attempted to explain to me that because of his supposed “imperialism” in expanding the war (don’t mistake me for a warhawk, I’m not) Obama is Hitler. Somehow this president who has been accused of socialist anti-Americanism with his stimulus package and attempts (maybe hopeless) at healthcare reform is JUST LIKE OMG Adolph Motherfucking Hitler.

This is not a new tactic. But I would like to say Obama is not like Hitler. Obama is not an insane sadistic genocidal maniac. It is offensive and horrifying to compare any little old politician to one of the worst people to have ever lived; whether it be Obama, Bush, or anybody else of any party affiliation.

In conjunction with this encounter some young woman from the communist party with the face of a leather sack approached us and began to explain to me how the Larouches were right. Ok…So the commies are on board with that one. When they commented that it’s okay to draw historical comparisons between figures I agreed. I said that, indeed, when you have an incredibly mean personality and force such as Hitler it’s only intellectual to draw comparisons with equally (or maybe worse) people like Stalin, but that Obama really hadn’t done enough or been around long enough to warrant such a comparison.

That’s when the borscht hit the fan. Miss Leathercommie asserted that Stalin should not be compared to Hitler. Say what? She asserted that the claims of the mass murders across the USSR were indeed fabrications.

Holy Shit

I was standing in front of an honest-to-Trotsky Stalinist in 2009.  I asked her if she’d like to take a trip into the history books at the Library or if I should bust out my computer to find some sources to the contrary. She then asserted that all the sources are lies. So she believes in Stalin’s innocence despite all evidence to the contrary.

Sound like a Holocaust denier?

Basically, to me, if a person believes that any modern politician (or Obama) is just like Hitler or that Stalin didn’t kill anybody they either need to hit the books or be hit with a brick. Preferably the latter by me.

In reaction to this I had a conversation with my father. Out of that I made this film:





Parents should be like Batman

4 02 2010

I was enjoying a little bit of television recently here on the couch warm in my laziness. Suddenly there was a commercial for some bullshit television series with Molly Ringwald playing the mother of some dumb teenage ho who gets pregnant:

“Boo-hoo, mommy, you can feel the baby kicking, I can’t abort it.”

“Daughter, you gonna ruin your life.”

“Boo-hoo this is too hard in the short term so I can’t think critically or reasonably about the long term.”

This scenario made me think about how I would handle having my own little girl get knocked up. Almost instantly I realized that I would have to embrace the seemingly brutal actions showcased by Ellen Barkin in Palindromes: a very fucked-up and awesome film sequel Welcome to the Dollhouse (both by Todd Solondz). In this film, Aviva is a very damaged young girl desperate in her existential angst to feel loved. So she gets knocked up. Mom, played by Ellen Barkin, calls bullshit on that and insists that the most reasonable course of action is for Aviva to have an abortion. Granted, she’s very superficial about it, but I lend myself to the “agree with” column regarding the judgment of mom’s insistence.

Yes, some really fucked up shit happens as the abortion goes wrong, but I am not suggesting it’s an educational video. Rather, I take this initial scenario and not the following message in order to illustrate to you how I think a parent should probably view their responsibility.

If I were mom and my daughter were knocked up I would be totally willing to brow-beat my still-developing and immature spawn to abort that leach. I would insist and threaten. I would ridicule and cross examine:
“Daughter, you say you cannot go through with this because of the life you feel. You also think you would make a good mother because of the intense love you feel. I respect this position, daughter, but would only grant it to an adult woman in the financial, emotional and intellectual position to raise a fulfilled, stable, HAPPY child. Daughter, do you think that the father is going to get a very good job at 15 and provide for you both? Will you get a job full-time while raising your baby?

No? Do you expect me and your [other parent] to let you live here and force us to take up the slack due to your total lack of means and options? Daughter, I understand that you want something to love completely and have belong exclusively to you. But that is selfish and awful. Your willingness to make this not-born human struggle and pain its most delicate formative years makes you disgusting, naïve, and totally irresponsible.”

Now, you may think this makes me horrible; to hurt my daughter (though she would be sent to a psychologist immediately), damage our relationship possibly irreparably, and dominate her body. You are right. That is absolutely fucking horrible.  But this is my point. If we have learned anything from Batman, then we must remember what he is NOT above all else. He is not a hero.

Batman has the capacity to be something more. In the words of Alfred: He can be the outcast. He must take it. Endure it. He will run when we need something to chase. He will be the hated when we need to hate. And he will subject himself to abuse and guilt in order to SAVE US.

This is real love. This is why parents need to be like Batman.

My daughter may hate me for years. We may never again be close. But I would be willing to bear that pain. I would take it. I would endure. Because parents aren’t heroes.








Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 47 other followers