What the &#$% were they thinking?

Ok, I'm not what you would call an "animal lover." I like dogs. Some dogs--mostly big goombah dogs like my dearly departed Arnold. And bears. I like bears, but then I kinda have bear-like characteristics and tendencies. A man-bear, if you will. Other than that, I'm pretty ambivalent about animals. That said, this struck me as sick and wrong.

Things that make you go "hmmmmm..."

I recently picked up 5 People Who Died During Sex - And 100 Other Terribly Tasteless Lists by Karl Shaw (ISBN 978-0-7679-2059-9, for those who care). Lemmee tell ya, fascinating stuff. So as a public service, I thought I'd periodically share brief passages of this highly topical and relevant book.

(Editors note: I make no claim as to veracity of this information. In fact, I found one blatant error, namely under the list No Nearer My God to Thee: Quotes from Twenty Dead Atheists, it quotes Thomas Jefferson. Thomas Jefferson wasn't an atheist--he was a deist who saw Jesus as a great prophet, though questioned his divinity. Jefferson wrote in a letter to Dr. Benjamin Rush, dated April 21, 1803, "[t]o the corruptions of Christianity I am indeed opposed; but not to the genuine precepts of Jesus himself. I am a Christian in the only sense he wished any one to be; sincerely attached to his doctrines, in preference to all others; ascribing to himself every human excellence; & believing he never claimed any other.")

Speaking of religion, under the list of Ten Appalling Pontiffs is Pope Boniface VIII.

Boniface got rid of his predecessor, Pope Celestine V, by locking him up in
Fumone Castle and leaving him there to die of starvation. Boniface was
an atheist who had numerous gay lovers and was eventually tried for heresy,
rape, sodomy, and eating meat during Lent. Boniface didn't attend his
trial and escaped punishment, but went mad soon afterward and committed
suicide. Pope Clement V had Boniface's body exhumed and burned as a
heretic.

Emphasis added. Hmmmmm...

Peep

Well, haven't I been just the slacker. Two weeks and not a peep from me.

I think of myself as being pretty well-informed. Well, maybe not on current pop culture, given Meg's roll of the eyes when she has to explain to me the current state of affairs on American Idol. But, you know, when it comes to news and world affairs, I can usually nod my head knowingly when someone casually mentions Boris Yeltsin's legacy or the Dow Jones Industrial Average. I attribute this knowing bobble head nod to my spending a good solid hour (or more, but don't tell my boss) every day pouring over the headlines through various portals, following the links to the wire services and media outlets. I would then spend another hour or more arguing points brought out in these articles with my fellow denizens on AGWOT. I felt the debate was essential to my understanding of events because as one poster's signature line quoted, "As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another."

But no more. I've quietly retired from the Warbirds community (aka AGW). I know this has no significance to anyone, but it does to me if for no other reason than I was a part of that community for over eleven years. I was flying online with my "squad"--friends who I had never met in person, but knew much about--when my wife told me it was time to land and head to the hospital because we were about to be parents. Births, deaths, changes in life's circumstances... these were all things we shared. Over time, the game changed and we changed, so the squad disbanded. We took our conversations--the chatting we would do in between calling out bandits or telling your wingman to "check six"--to the alt.games.warbirds board, and then to the Off Topic page when we stopped talking about how overmodelled the guns were on the FW-190D or how "jet day" ruined it for us purists.

For many of us, the good-natured verbal sparring that took place on the Off Topic page took the place of our dogfights and furballs. It was interesting to see how one's debate style stacked up with his air combat tactics. Some guys (and it was almost exclusively a males-only community, with a handful of notable exceptions) were "boom n' zoomers"; they'd circle from high above looking for unsuspecting targets, diving down to make high-speed gun passes and then climbing out to repeat. Those that were effective at this in the "air" and on the board were able to obliterate their enemies in one pass; those that weren't were inconsequential annoyances. Then there were the "turn n' burners"; those that would maneuver to their target's "six" to get off a shot, often on the edge of the envelope with the stall horn blaring, full stick and rudder deflection, drifting in and out of blacking out... man, that was fun! Those that were effective would tenaciously wear their opponents down until they were out of airspeed or logic; those that weren't were, well, inconsequential annoyances.

But, just as the game changed, so has the Off Topic page. Naturally there was a fair amount of vitriol associated with the 2000 and 2004 elections; some people take their politics way too seriously. September 11th also changed the board. Warbirds was international from the start, which I think brought immense value because despite our increasingly "global" world, we don't communicate regularly with people from other countries... or at least that's not done here in suburban St. Louis. But on that day, I learned that there were Europeans--ostensibly our friends and allies whose countries we helped to liberate with our blood and treasure in two world wars and defend during one long cold one--who were not our friends... who indulged in a bit of schadenfreude at the death of some 3000 people, who said we "had it coming" and took delight at our comeuppance at the hands of the "downtrodden and persecuted freedom fighters." Uh huh. And then there was the PATRIOT Act, Afghanistan, Iraq, global warming, blah, blah, blah. In the end, or the end for me, the board became a home for those were against everything and for nothing. Probably the only thing most seemed to agree on, save a rational few, was that Booosh was the dephil!!1!!1111!1eleventy-one!!1 [sigh] Whatever.

So, what does that have to do with being well-informed? Well, I think we're falling victim to media with an agenda, or so many on AGWOT have. We're not examining the "news" with a critical eye, and we don't hold the purveyors of "news" accountable for what amounts to journalistic malpractice. Note that I'm quoting the term "news"; the word means a report of recent events. In the past, this meant a fact-based recitation of the five Ws with a H thrown in for good measure. Now it means the inclusion of "thought-provoking commentary" (aka bias), the outright fabrication of stories, documents and sources (Dan Rather interviews then Lt. Bush's flight commander, Captain Jamil Hussein) and the "enhancement" of photos (I guess someone didn't get that Photoshop Bible he asked for for Laylat al-Qadr). Apparently, "news" is now synonymous with infotainment and propaganda. Frankly, I've had enough of it, and enough of those who have slurped the Kool-aid, gone back for seconds and have the pink mustache to prove it.

The question that I've been wondering about, though, is whether one can be well-informed without having to wade through the muck that is modern journalism? For example, I've intentionally not read a single "news" account of the Virginia Tech incident, knowing full well that the press would sink to crass sensationalism as each outlet tried to outdo the other in telling the tale. Yet I know a South Korean student by the name of Cho killed thirty plus students and faculty and made some whack video "manifesto"--all this from headlines. Do I need to know any more than that? The one article I did read had this bit of timely wisdom (for me):

Actually I thought of Thoreau. He said he didn't have to read newspapers because if you're familiar with a principle you don't have to be familiar with its numerous applications. If you know lightning hits trees, you don't have to know every time a tree is struck by lightning.

Whew! Sorry for the rambling, but there's nothing like a good diatribe.

A Must-Know

I offer this INCREDIBLY IMPORTANT INFORMATION as a public service.

P.S. For the curious among us, Scott looks like Tom Merritt.

Uhmm...

...is it a bad thing that I have a "crush" on a character in a comic strip?

No, not the guy--Sam, the *hawt* redhead. Another favorite, just for my bud Rob, if he's reading:

Of course, no comic strip character could hold a candle to my lovely wife (love ya, honey!), but it's clear Chris Muir has an appreciation for the female form and a gift of being able to render it. And he's funny. And conservative. And I want to be just like him when I grow up.

For a witty read on his time in Iraq, check out his embed report. You can also check out the rest of the Day by Day strips by clicking on the panel that appears at the bottom of this finely crafted blog. Ok, commercial's over--we now return to a regularly scheduled programming.

Slacker

slack·er /ˈslækər/ - [slak-er]
–noun

1. a person who evades his or her duty or work; shirker.
2. a person who evades military service.
3. an esp. educated young person who is antimaterialistic, purposeless, apathetic, and usually works in a dead-end job.
4. Me, when it comes to yard work, various household chores, and maintaining a blog.

While #3 has a certain familiarity with respect to my life (except the "young" and "antimaterialistic" parts), I had to add #4 for no other reason than I'm becoming vaguely aware of my neighbors' disdain for my lawn maintenance skills. I can tell because in the mumbling mutterings of my neighbors, the word slacker rings out loud and clear (and no, I'm not imagining this). It's not that I'm incompetent in the use of a lawnmower or a weedeater. I actually pride myself in my ability to push a lawnmower in a relatively straight line, and I've got "skillz" when it comes to edging. But in modern suburbia, where a man is measured by the greenness of his lawn, I suffer the daily humiliation of knowing the little old lady across the street has a green, weedless lawn--and I don't.

Of course in polite suburban society, people don't openly criticize a man's inability to grow grass. It's just not done. But behind the words of neighborly encouragement that "it'll green up after it rains" lies the unspoken sentiment "it better... or else." I'm not really too worried about the "or else" part because I'm bigger than they are, and worse comes to worst, I can swing Bryan around like a 35-pound mace (he likes that sorta thing). Still, I want to be a good neighbor, and being a good neighbor means being in tune with the neighborhood ethos. Around here that means eager participation in a weekly regimen of aeration, liming, fertilizing, mowing, raking, bagging, edging, pruning, clipping, and ritual sacrifice to the god known as Scotts, who makes all things heavenly green with his gift of Turf Builder®. Problem is, I'm just too damn lazy. Too apathetic. Too much a slacker.

Oh, and I'd like to take this opportunity to give a shout out to my second reader, Scott (no, not the god). Scott has been my partner in crime and academic underachievement since the third grade. A better friend no man can find. Hi Scott!