days of naze
|we carry in our hearts the true country
A little audio gift (85 kb .wav)
for my Faithful readers on
the first anniversary (7/14/99) of
the site. Hand cranked to help
you on the long march.
An obnoxiously large
(101k .wav) audio greeting
from the Author.
|May 22, 2000
(plenty of cursing - young 'uns should click away)
Prepare to Receive My Transmission
I'm really pissed.
I'm watching basketball the other night. We're losing, but we'll still be up 3-1 in the series. Back home we'll put them out of their misery. And the commercial comes on.
Terry Bradshaw and Doug Flutie (who should really know better). They're at a Japanese restaurant and they've just been served magura.
Bradshaw: "What's this? Soochie? (eyeing it with a disgusted look and poking it as if it were a dead mouse)...you better cook this, it ain't done yet...back where I come from they call this bait."
Bradshaw, you stupid fuck. You walk into a Japanese restaurant, sit down at the sushi bar, order sushi or more likely someone has been courteous enough to order for you. You completely disrespect the chef who is clearly standing right in front of you, a guy who has very likely spent years studying his art and who toils to serve you and your guests.
Humor is when everyone can laugh, Terry. Shitting on a person in their place of business is not funny, it's what goons do to make their henchmen laugh. You don't have to read the words just because someone stucks garbage under your nose. I hope this stuff doesn't play in the Midwest. Clearly, someone at this lame-ass long distance company thinks it will.
The most useless phrase in the English language. This declaration reveals its speaker to be a twit, because it presupposes that the target cares. It also presupposes that a remedy, perhaps an apology, should be forthcoming. Kind of seems unlikely given that the person has said or done something without realizing that it would anger you. People who are that clueless aren't likely to meet your needs after being brought up short.
Of course, occasionally there will be things in life that offend us. But honestly, don't expect results from "I'm offended." It just makes you sound like a weenie. Like other people should be at the ready to guard your feelings.
Try instead, "I'M MAD AS HELL AND I'M NOT GOING TO TAKE IT ANY MORE!" or "how long have you been a member of the Klan?" or "nice green sweater, but from the words pouring out of your mouth I'll bet there's a brown shirt underneath.
Sport. Utility. Vehicle. Yes, a tired subject, but nonetheless an epidemic manifestation of what seems to me a particularly American character flaw.
Mind you, I have no problem with genuine outdoorspeople who kayak, ski, whatever on some regular basis. You've got gear and you need to get somewhere that requires a little four wheel action. That's cool. Or you don't do any of that stuff but you've got a nice reasonable Subaru Forester or funky little Jeep. No problem.
But these cell phone Boomers in their Ford Excursions and Chevy Suburbans are on some monomaniacal Freudian voyage. Enormous pickups that never see a payload for months on end. Parked on the corners of intersections making it impossible to see if a car is coming. Riding way up on your ass on the freeway. Nosing their way onto a through-way when they clearly see you coming.
Apparently, the emotional appeal of these monstrosities is that of command. I am above you, I am bigger than you, and if I deign, I will destroy you. But it's hard to tell whether their behavior behind the wheel is just another symptom of their disorder or if the vehicle's performance characteristics naturally lend themselves to obnoxious deeds.
Frankly, I don't care.
Here are the facts on SUV's: 1) those of us on the receiving end of a collision with one sustain substantially greater injuries and property damage; 2) insurance rates for all of us go up to subsidize this; 3) they take up more space on crowded freeways, making rush hour worse than it already is; 4) they are 2-4 times harder on roads than the average car; 5) they consume 2-3 times the fuel of the average car, and thus; 6) pollute our air at 2-3 times the rate of the average car. I won't even go into the waste of materials to build the damn things or how they make us more dependent on foreign oil.
I'm absolutely fed up with weak, selfish people who demonstrate no sense of obligation to their neighbors, their society, their world. It's not good enough to just not break laws. That's the remedial standard of citizenship.
It's legal to sell firearms at gun shows without performing background checks. Can you believe this shit? It's like being able to sell alcohol to anyone so long as it's at a flea market. Do you know why that is? Money + NRA. This has nothing to do with the Second Amendment. This is all about Congressmen bought and paid for and about constituents that stand for it.
Here's responsibility: gun safety, target shooting competition, gun collecting, reasoned advocacy, hunting safely in season.
Here's wild-eyed, conspiracy delusional, Waco and OKC terrorist feeding batshit: fighting to keep cop-killing Teflon bullets and drug dealer favored automatic weapons on the market, fighting against basic background checks to keep firearms out of the hands of felons and mentally ill. What do you say to people who are so disconnected from common sense, from public safety, from civic responsibility?
I know people that belong to the NRA and they're all pretty decent citizens. But I've got to figure that at the very best they're asleep at the switch letting their leadership use their money for lining the pockets of politicians instead of something that would actually perform a service to their country.
We make somebody pass tests before we let them drive a car. Seems reasonable doesn't it? Before we let them put our lives at risk? Does it make sense that someone wanting a 9mm semi-automatic should prove some remedial level of safety and performance? Oh, no. You're trying to take my rights away. The feds are spying on me. The United Nations is a mask for an evil World Government. Late night informercials must run.
It's not enough to just not break the laws. It is a weak and coddled people who cling desperately to their rights without embracing their responsibilities. Every action has meaning. We can accept who we are, stewards of this neighborhood, this republic, this planet, or we can leave the next generation of historians to wonder how we pissed it all away.
Strength doesn't come from ridicule, strength is not selfish, and strength doesn't trade common sense for zealotry and endangerment.
Strength is a word of praise, strength lifts those in need, and strength is sacrificing "me" for "we".
Be strong, my friends.
p.s. Farewell to my fellow Lewis & Clark College and KLC Radio alumnus, Regis Burke.
In my junior year, I had a classical music radio show on Sunday mornings. Regis was the Program Director of the station and thus had the responsibility of letting me in. He would show up in his robe and flip flops. I'd be gathering my Schubert vinyl in the Cave. He flopped himself down in Studio A and cranked up this music with a stacatto acoustic bass, a thrashing rhythm and a nasal vocal -"One, one, one for my heartache and / Two, two, two for my headache." This was my introduction to the Violent Femmes and a whole world of new music. A second pivotal moment where music literally changed my life. [Some day I'll actually get down to telling more of this story.]
Last month, on my birthday, I happened to be at McDonald's downtown late in the morning. As I was leaving I caught a face out of the corner of my eye. I thought it might be Regis, but I wasn't sure and I didn't know him terribly well, so I kept on walking. He worked in the Sports department for the Oregonian just a few blocks away, so it was probably him.
Not long after he was playing basketball with friends and died of a heart attack.
The last time I really remember him was when most of the people in the picture below were at a Reverend Horton Heat show about 3 years ago hosted by KLC. The show took place in the very cafeteria pictured here.
If I were better with the imaging software, you'd see that Regis' sign says, "Nude below the waist."
p.p.s. Three steps to getting published on ESPN.com's Around the Rim: 1) Talk trash; 2) write in short, percussive sentences; 3) Follow your team religiously for 20 years and wear your devotion on your sleeve. (My web thrill of the month. :-)
p.p.s. New days notification: better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick, but just barely.
|previously on days of naze :
i am naze
what have you done for me lately? i swear to god, i tried a redesign and i just couldn't let go of black. it just feels right to keep it dark.
|May you never be more active
when you are doing nothing.
They may forget what you said, but they will never forget how you made them feel.
-Carl W. Buehner
|in the feedag:
theorem: The Web is greater and more beautiful than you imagined: Exhibit A - The Magic of Aureia Harvey & Michael Samyn; Exhibit B - The Mind Blowing Spiritual Epic; Exhibit C - The razor wit of a Korean woman who amuses and arouses in "Samsung" means: to come. Case closed. (Last two links via Halcyon and Lance.)
magazines: Harper's 150th Anniversary Issue - the emotional economics of marriage and about 4 other outstanding articles; Vanity Fair - preview of Lance Armstrong's memoir - I got so pumped reading the details of his Tour de France triumph - this guy is one fierce competitor.
vcr: American Beauty (A) - whoa - much better than I was expecting.
sports: YES! The mighty Portland Trailblazers spank the Lakers in L.A. 106-77. It's 1-1 and now we're in our house. Oh, baby!
|my favorite word: foci (the plural of focus)|
© christopher naze