Wait... What?

Yes, I've been quiet lately. Yes, there's a good reason. And when I'm allowed to tell you what that reason is, I promise you, I will.

I'm quite sure that there are more than a few people out there who have enjoyed my lack of posts, as I obviously make a few people uneasy, angry, or otherwise perturbed. Don't worry, I haven't gone anywhere. Well, not anywhere major yet, anyway.

Meantime, find me on Facebook here. Just drop a note that you found me via this blog so I at least know why you added me. Random blank adds usually get the "I don't know this person" treatment.

Stay tuned...

Priorities

I'm curious. Which is more important to you: Your family, or God?

Apparently, to my biological mother, God is more important than her first-born child. She absolutely refuses to deal with me on a purely secular level. Everything she says to me is laced with scripture and rhetoric (assuming the two are different, which is sometimes impossible to discern). It's not like I'm asking her to shun God or her faith: All I'm asking is that she deal with me on a human, non-God-influenced level. Too much to ask? I think not.

I'd like to hear opinions. Don't be some snarky Anonymous fuckface who takes joy in criticizing me from behind a CRT monitor. Be thoughtful, be honest.

I await your judgment...

How Lucky I Am...

There is no doubt in my mind now: I'm the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet.

For the first year of his life, I was unaware that he was mine. For the following two years of his life, I was unable to get to him. So, for his third birthday, I swore that - come hell or high water - I would see my little boy for the first time.

The first of many, many more...

The road to fatherhood wasn't easy. In fact, it was pretty bumpy. First, Jennie's pregnancy came as a bit of a surprise. Such a surprise, in fact, that we really couldn't nail down whether Luke's father was me or her ex. And then, Jennie and I had a huge falling out, and didn't speak for a while. Time passed, and while I didn't forget about it, it took a spot in the recesses of my already-over-crowded mind and waited.

And then, the IM came: Eric, Lucas is your son.

Initial confusion gave way to utter elation, because Lucas being born at all is something of a miracle. As with her daughter, Luke pushed the limits of what her body could take, and almost killed her in the process of coming into the world. But Jennie is a fighter, and she made it through just fine. It's because of that that I feel I'm the luckiest man on the face of the Earth.

I'm lucky to have a mother for my son that can survive not one, but TWO high-risk pregnancies and still produce two very happy, very smart, and very awesome children. I'm lucky that my son's mother does all that she does for he and his sister. It amazes me just how great those kids are turning out thanks to her. People don't give her enough credit, and so here I am to step up and say that not only does she deserve it, but she deserves a helluvalot of it.

I'm lucky to have had the sense to keep my own personal promise. When I was 13, I said I wasn't having kids til I was 30. Lucas was born just a month and a half shy of my 30th birthday. And now, I'm lucky enough to be able to make a whole new promise, one far less selfish than the first.

I'm lucky enough to have an awesome son who I can devote the rest of my life to. I'm lucky enough to see the joys that having a child can bring to your life. I'm lucky enough to have a chance to make a lasting impression on the world through him. I'm lucky enough to have the chance to teach him to read and show him the pure joy that books can bring to the imagination. I'm lucky enough to share my gift of music with him, to watch him dance and sing. I'm lucky enough to be able to share my love of video games with him, even if it means having to play SpongeBob's Truth or Square a thousand more times.

I'm lucky enough to share with him my love of animation in all forms, and to see the laughter it will bring him. I'm lucky enough to have a son who will cheer with his dad as their team takes the pitch and kicks some ass.

I'm lucky enough to have the chance to be a father. I can't imagine why any father wouldn't want such a chance. I have the chance to give the world a gift by raising my son to be a good, honest, free-thinking person, and the world obviously needs more of those. What kind of idiot balks at a chance like that? Now that I've been around him, watched him play and held him, I can't see life without him. He never ceases to amaze the ever-loving hell out of me.

Here is my creation, living and breathing and acting like a maniac. And I absolutely love it.

For a man who doesn't believe in any sort of God nonsense, I will concede this much: Our children ARE miracles, but not divine ones. They're the only reminder that we should ever need of our true purpose in life - to further the species and to help it grow, change, adapt, and improve.

And with all the bullshit I've been through, I'm not so blind as to not see how truly lucky I am to be a part of that through Lucas.

My son: I love you more than anything on this Earth, and I'm lucky to have such an awesome kid. In 10 years, when you Google the garbage your dad wrote and find it in an archive cache somewhere, you'll find amidst all the stupid BS I've written this one entry. It may be rambling and it may be sappy, but it's the greatest thing I've ever written, because it is about the greatest thing I have ever done with my life, and that is you. I can't wait to see you grow up, and I hope that someday you experience the pure happiness that I am now.

All because of how lucky I am to have you...

Tear Down The Walls

Wow. This far? I was over it that week. You've seriously taken it to that level?

And people think I'm the one who needs help. Why, I don't know, when there are so many others out there who make even me seem the picture of Normal Rockwell America.

Boggles the mind, really.

I found it funny how you chose to treat me as if I were some sort of child, when you've delved far deeper into that well that I ever have. And I'm the immature one in all of this? I'm sure that's true in some parallel dimension where different choices were made and what not, but in our reality, that's simply not the case.

I said what I said. I still stand by what I said. But to be quite honest with you, I'm past it. I mean, really. People in this are taught me a valuable lesson early on: There's no sense kicking a dead horse. I have bigger and better things to run my mouth about than old news.

Oh, wait, that's why you decided to get yourself involved in this at all, isn't it? The phrase "old news?" Yeah, that's the one. The over-reaction - it burns us. If that's a good enough reason to run off and pull 9th grade stunts and only cost yourself money in the end, I guess you're entitled to it.

The net effect, though? I obviously haven't shut up, and quite honestly, I don't think I ever will until I draw my last breath and can speak no more. And I don't think that even you could be so stupid as to hustle my fate along a bit, would you? No, unlike you, I'll give you at least SOME credit. You're a child, yes, but not a complete idiot.

I'm sure you thought your night out with me was fun, too. Oh, lordy, did I ever enjoy that. There you sat, pretending that you're someone and something you're not, trying to assert some kind of dominance over me like you have that kind of pull.

Sorry. Frayed Knot.

Do I fear you? No. Should I? No. Why? Any move you make seals your own fate, and I don't think you're stupid enough to throw away what you have going for you. So, honestly, the only real solution for you is to just let it go.

It's trivial. It's insignificant. It's nothing. It's a dead horse: Why kick it? You don't see me wasting my time, money and energy on it, do you? Nope. This account was free, and it didn't cost me a dime or much effort to sit here and type from the comfort of my own home, that's for sure. Why you insist on harping on the issue is beyond me.

I let it go a long time ago. Why don't you?

Temporal Anomaly

Well... I certainly didn't expect this to happen this fast. I was sure that, simply because I lived in Clearfield County of all places, and that because my records were within the walls of the courthouse, I wouldn't see them for quite a while. The way this County works, and as backed up as its system is, I really didn't think that I'd be able to achieve much at all in a short time. I was honestly in this for the long haul, and was prepared to fight tooth and nail.

Turns out I really didn't need to. But I want to let everyone know that I'm extremely lucky to get the results I have out of this. There are still thousands of people out there, young and old alike, who aren't anywhere near this lucky when trying to find out who they are.

So yes, I know I was supposed to post this after I got home from Kelce's last night, but my brain had different ideas, wanting instead to go to bed. And then today, I ended up going out for a while to get some work done, and then coming home to an unexpected nap. Fun, right? And now, here I am, actually blogging about it, and I've kept the better majority of you in suspense for the last three paragraphs.

Yep. By a twist of fate, I've discovered the paternal side of my biological family.

Turns out that, when I received the first letter from the Courthouse, they neglected to define the exact "methods" they'd used to try and contact my parents. What happened was that the Court had found contact information in my file for my father only, and the chances of it still being accurate were very slim - 32+ years past. After a month and no reply from the address, the Court sent me the first letter.

So earlier this week, I go out to get some cigarettes, and when I come back, I find that the mail dude has been by, and left me a letter from... Judge's Chambers, Clearfield?!? Hmmm. Wonder what kind of trouble I've been implicated in this time. Nothing like that, really, but what had happened was that my biological father had in fact received the court's letter, and after some thought, decided that attempting to contact me might be something worth trying. He had the Court forward him the original letter I'd written to the Judge, which had my contact information in it.

My guess is he didn't take much time to decide that he wanted to call, because yesterday, I got that call.

No sooner had I been dropped off at Mikey's place than my pocket started to ring. I didn't recognize the number, but my curiosity got the better of me yet again and I answered. Good thing, really. He asked for me, and after I confirmed that I was he whom he had sought, he told me that he was calling because he'd received a letter from the Courthouse in Clearfield.

2+2=OMG HOLY SHIT WTF WOW

After an hour and a half or so of conversation, I've discovered that I have a few half-siblings, a few aunts and uncles, plus a grandmother, across the pond, and that my mother will unfortunately remain an enigma for right now. But the good news is, I'll be able to get at least half of the information that I want for Lucas, and then some.

I never intended for things to go this well, and I certainly didn't anticipate this good a result. Yes, I acknowledged it as possible, but in the realm of high fantasy at that point. I mean, come on. When have things ever gone that well for me, ever, right? I've learned over the years to keep my expectations realistic. Not low, mind you, but within the realm of possibility given my track record.

So that's where I'm at right now. Trading emails and phone calls, learning what I can and figuring out where to go as it rolls along. Nothing super special at the moment. I mean, geez, it's been a whole 24 hours or so. But as things progress, I'm sure you'll see little blurbs here and there. But yes, now, I'm not so much in the dark anymore. I have more than one known biological relative.

Doesn't that suck? It brings me one step closer to being just like all of you :P

The Good Fight

See this little boy? This little boy is Lucas, and he is my one and only son. To date, he is the only first biological relative on this Earth that I am was ever aware of.

And I would lay down my life for him, as any father should for their child.

But there are people that would actively seek to prevent me from doing this, the greatest job I've ever had to do. There are people who actually have the outright nerve to say "No" to this little boy, to tell me that I can't do the one thing that a father is supposed to do above all other things: Provide the best possible future for their child.

And what's worse, these people are elected officials who are bound to enforce an actual law that has the nerve to legislate that this little boy can't have all of the things he needs to have a shot at a happy, healthy life. A law that I have since found to be unconstitutional - a violation of both mine and Lucas' Equal Protection rights.

Who writes such a law? And who enforces such a law? The correct answers to those questions are "Nobody should write such a law, because it violates the US Constitution" and "Nobody should enforce such a law, because it violates the US Constitution."

The law in question was somehow passed in 1984 by the Pennsylvania State Legislature. Acting on the notion that they were somehow defending the rights of parents to remain anonymous, they decided that they would seal ALL adoption records in Pennsylvania. So, for the first seven years of my life, I could have had access to this information, had I actually wanted it. Back then, of course, I was far too concerned with video games and school, and it remained a non-concern for the better portion of my life that followed.

And now that I actually have a reason to want this information, I'm finding that this law does far more in its willful violation of the ultimate law of this great nation.

While only on a theoretical level, it is possible for an adult adoptee such as myself to have my records unsealed and the information that I want. The problem with that idea becoming reality is, the same 1984 law that sealed my records in the first place also created hurdles and hoops for me to jump over and through.

First of all, I must provide a reason for my desire to have the records unsealed, which will be weighed by a judge. This is where the law becomes unconstitutional: By holding my reasons for wanting my records suspect at all, they're segregating adoptees like me into a new "suspect class," separate from Pennsylvanians who were not adopted - While all non-adoptee Pennsylvanians can petition Harrisburg and get their records on a whim, adoptee Pennsylvanians have to prove valid reason and go through a long, drawn-out and often hopeless court process. This is a clear and direct violation of the US Constitution's 14th Amendment, which reads as follows, as found on USConstitution.net:

Amendment 14 - Citizenship Rights. Ratified 7/9/1868. Note History 1. All persons born or naturalized in the United States, and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United States and of the State wherein they reside. No State shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.

This law is clearly unconstitutional: It creates two classes of Pennsylvanians, who are not protected equally under the rule of law - Adoptees and Non-adoptees.

And I'm sure you're all wondering what my "suspect" reasons are, so I'll spell out my entire plan for you all to see and judge for yourselves. I have nothing to hide in this matter: My reasons are crystal clear, and entirely valid.

By having my records unsealed and my biological parents' names known to me, I can begin the search for them. If and when I find them, the only thing I want to do is ask them for a general overview of their medical history.

Between 1977 (when I was born) and 2010 (over two and a half years after Lucas was born), medical science has improved by leaps and bounds. We know far more about genetics and medicine today than we did during the period when I was born. Hell, when I was born, you could still smoke in a hospital! Today, we know that certain types of cancer are genetic, as well as a whole host of other serious conditions. We understand the concept of carriers better than we did then - for example, the only real piece of biological medical history I have is that epilepsy has shown up in my family. Who's to say that other conditions haven't shown up, and might show up in Lucas or any of the children he may have?

I simply can't know this information unless I contact my parents. It is my belief that this information is vital to giving Lucas a good chance at having a happy and healthy future. At least armed with information I didn't have right away, he stands a better chance of being ready to cope with these things should they arise than I had.

Is that too much to ask? I think not. I'm quite sure that there won't be anyone who would argue that this isn't something that I owe my son. That's why I'm fighting.

Because the court is treating my reasons as suspect, I'd also like to outline, in no uncertain terms, the things that I DO NOT wish to do at all.

1. I do not want to suddenly inject myself back into these people's lives. It's not like I'm trying to force a meeting with them. Far from it: I have survived for 32 years without meeting my biological parents, and I don't feel any great need to meet them now, either. If my parents want to meet me/us, that's fine, I have no problem with that. But it is THEIR CHOICE.

2. Given what little information I do have about my biological parents, it's safe to assume that I am the first-born child for either of them, most certainly for my mother. However, it is NOT MY INTENTION to find them for the purpose of asserting my status as such in any of their affairs, period. I don't want money, I don't want in on any will, I don't want any piece of any possible estate, none of that.

No, my reason is simple: I just want to have the information I feel necessary in order to do my job as a father. That's it.

So, why am I being treated like a second class Pennsylvanian? And more importantly, why the hell are you treating my SON like a second class Pennsylvanian? He lives here too, you know, and he has the right to the information that I want to provide for him, just like any other Pennsylvanian does.

I am doing this solely for him. And in a State - and in particular, a county - where deadbeat dads are almost the norm, I think that should be recognized. Even though I may not see my son, I'm not giving up on him like so many others have before me. No - this child WILL know his father, and he WILL know that his father loves him more than anything else in this damned universe. And as his father, it's my job to make sure he gets a fighting chance at life.

And I will not allow something so vile as this unconstitutional attempt to legislate to stop me from doing that job.

The State of Pennsylvania is on notice: I aim to set a precedent, even before any further legislation can be considered on this subject. If I'm right, the law - along with any pending legislation that may seek to strengthen it rather than oppose it - will be declared unconstitutional, and we will no longer have to live as "second class" Pennsylvanians.

My son and I are Pennsylvanians - no class restrictions. And I will do whatever it takes to make sure that we can both claim that right.

-- 7/24/10 - Updated due to the surprise appearance of my biological father and his side of the family, giving Lucas even more people to know. Mission accomplished, at least partially so far. I now possess all the information that I figured would be in my adoption records, and what was confirmed to exist by the Judge.

So, what's the next step? Mom. She's going to be a jewel to find, that's for sure. First thing's first, though: Contacting her old high school and seeing if I can't find a yearbook picture of her...

42

Life is a case study in people.

This blog is here to report observations.

You know, I really love my work. It's fun to see the reactions people have to what I say. Honestly, you learn more about a person from their reaction to a stimulus than by simply sitting and talking to them. Sitting down and talking with a person allows them time to craft their answers and portray themselves in a controlled manner. But, when provoked, I find that most people have a knee-jerk reaction to things, and without that calm filter, their true colors come out. Something clicks in their brain, and the worst in them charges to the forefront like a roid-raging bull.

So I say I don't particularly care for someone, and in my opinion, that person fails as a human being in some of the most basic respects. The reaction? Two Facebook pages intended to demean me, and a slew of people making comments and thumping their chests in this sorry sack's defense.

The only problem is, they don't know ME very well. Instead of being offended, I've used them as a sounding board to reach a broader audience (people who have fanned these two pages, but are otherwise not connected to me), injecting what some people consider provocative material into the mix. In this case, I've been told that "I'm Christian, and this offends me because I'm Christian."

Yeah, because I give a fuck.

So, what makes a Christian uneasy? Why, the mocking of their establishment, of course. Feed a Christian a line of dialogue from someone like PZ Myers which states the exact opposite of their belief structure, and they grab their torch and pitchforks, marching as to war.

Yes, they consider this a mature and rational reaction. Amazing, isn't it?

They'll defend someone who's not all that great a person to begin with, and then to make matters worse, they'll take up the cause and defend their own imaginations on two fronts: They imagine this person is something way more than he really is, and they imagine a magic man in the sky who loves and watches over them. Two fictional ideas, vehemently defended by people who are supposedly grounded, respected community members.

Conclusions? For one, people are walking contradictions. There really isn't any other way to describe it; Do as I say, not as I do. Secondly, even people who think themselves good and above contempt are capable of the worst that humanity has to offer. Third, small minds tend to work in numbers. It makes them feel better, I guess.

Me? I work alone, because I lack something they have in spades: Fear. I'm not afraid of how other people perceive me; some idiots have taken that out of my hands anyway, so fuck it. I'm also not afraid of some divine punishment, giving my own free will complete license to soar. I don't need mob mentality. It's becoming quite clear that my own mentality is holding up just fine, and even the mob can't bring me down.

So, what's next? Showing them what the rational mind can do. By week's end, these two Facebook pages will be taken down, through normal channels (and some abnormal, I will be putting in a call to Facebook Corporate). Their creator will likely receive a reprimand at least, and at worst have his account suspended. And me?

I'll be sitting here enjoying some fresh popcorn and a whole mess of test subjects to further my personal research. Even when you're broke, you can find the resources you need.

And yes, for those of you who get the title, I do have my towel handy...

Eating Barbecued Iguana

Hello, San Fransisco!

Glad to see you all made it. I had to do a little housekeeping, but I think I'm ready for the few extra visitors that are sure to make their way here.

If you're visiting from FCCFreeRadio.com, then I welcome you! Chances are you probably heard my "Redneck Report" tonight on 107.9FM, and I hope you found it somewhat amusing. Given that I'm a city kid who really doesn't care for the redneck lifestyle, I'm amazed I managed to hammer it out!

First of all, no, I don't normally sound like that. Like a news anchor, I have a non-regional dialect, although southerners might consider it a "Yankee" accent. It's my passion for voice acting and comedy that led me to develop the composite "redneck" accent you heard tonight. It's a little Larry the Cable Guy, a little Early Cuyler (from Squidbillies), and just a pinch of Deliverance. And no, I don't want to "make you squeal."

How did I come to be involved with San Fransisco's Comedy Alternative Radio when I live in the boondocks of Central PA? Why, the Internet, of course! I've known John for many years, starting back when he and the late Paul McSween were running The John Miller Program as a webcast based in John's Scottsdale, AZ garage. In fact, you might have heard John air some of my "work" from those days: I was the guy who called into a tech talk show and managed to get in at least a dozen plugs for John's program. And you know what? I never got my fucking coffee, damnit...

Will you be hearing more from me? I hope so! John and I have been wanting to do a bit to get me involved ever since the station launched, and finally, we have the time and the resources to pull it off. And I assure you that "Cletus" isn't my only voice. In the future, you might get a visit from Comrade Nikolai, my crazy Russian-American alter-ego, or even from a very stoned Kermit The Frog. You never know what kind of craziness I might invent next, so keep your dials tuned to 107.9FM to find out!

Apart from Voice Acting, I have a few other talents, and I like to show them off. If you'd like to see me in action, just check out my YouTube Channel! I'm also on Facebook (because who isn't these days, right?), so if you'd like to add me and see what insignificant crap I'm getting into at any given moment, feel free! I can be found on MySpace, too, but I'm hardly ever on there anymore. Bloated piece of web garbage, that is.

Yes, ladies, I'm single at the moment. Sorry, guys, I'm straight...

So yeah, I hope you enjoyed tonight's segment! Like I said, keep your radios tuned into FCCFree Radio, San Fransisco's Comedy Alternative! John brings the funny!

Sarah Palin Is Retarded

Sarah Palin Is Retarded.

Sarah Palin Is Retarded.

Sarah Palin Is Retarded.

Sarah Palin Is Retarded.

Sarah Palin Is Retarded.

Sarah Palin Is Retarded.

And by the way, did I mention that Sarah Palin Is Retarded?

Come and get me, you know-nothing, self-righteous, stupid beauty queen whore. I do not fear you...

Wait, What?!? Aquaman vs. Sailor Moon

It started as a thought while hanging out with Jill. She goes on and on about Sailor Moon, and me with my comic book senses trying to find a funny way of making a point about that little black eye on the face of Anime. Onto my Facebook went the following status change, and here it is with the comments that followed, up until just now:

Eric Jacobson:
Aquaman could totally kick Sailor Moon's ass...

Jill Saupp:
prove it

Eric Jacobson:
Aquaman is bigger, blonder, can exist both on land and in the sea, and while his animals might not talk, he's not limited to just cats.

His equivalent "Sailor Scouts" include Superman, Batman, Green Lantern, The Flash, Wonder Woman, The Martian Manhunter, Booster Gold (the closest thing to a Sailor Scout the JLA* has, really)... Plus dozens more, all interchangeable depending on the situation, and with far greater powers than any Sailor Scout. None of this building a single (or sometimes multiple) creature out of some silly thing or another. Fucking SUPERMAN! Those hos best have his money, now!

His has a son as opposed to a daughter, and this boy is just like his father, only a little more edgy. HIS running crew includes such names as Robin, Cyborg, Beast Boy, Raven, Starfire, Jericho... With the same results as Dad's posse. Not that Gender dictates in either situation, just pointing it out.

No masks or secret identities for Aquaman. Aquaman is Aquaman. Aquaman IS. And while it's cool that Usagi and crew are from Japan, Aquaman is from motherfucking ATLANTIS. Hellz yeah!

His villains are far more kickass than anything the Sailor Senshi have ever faced, though maybe fewer in number. These include his own brother, as well as feared Legion of Doom member Black Manta. Hell yes, Black Manta! I mean, come on! It doesn't get more badass than the Legion of motherfucking Doom. Black Manta isn't going to waste time during sophisticated transformation and power-up sequences with his thumb up his underwater ass, no way no how. Makos FTW.

What does Tuxedo Mask do, spin around in his cape and fling roses? Sailor Moon and her pack of teeny boppers spend five minutes transforming or powering up? In that time, all would become McNuggets to a very large sea creature, no-nonsense right freakin' now. Aquaman just thinks - not says, thinks - "Hey, snack over there" while Usagi is wearing a one-piece made of pure light because the American Censors won't let her show her naughty bits...

You tell me who's going to win that exchange. My money's on the swarm of giant squid he just telepathized into your face...

Aquaman is more or less the laughing stock of the DC universe. And yet yes, even he can trump Sailor Moon, if only by virtue of his Saturday Morning and Comic Book ties to the Man of Steel alone. It's all who you know. While she may be Queen of the Moon, he is King of the Ocean, with the power to command all of the sea's creatures in the fight for good. In a head to head showdown, sorry, Jill: Aquaman, by unanimous decision. Ring the bell...

Oh yeah. Score one for the king of the DC Heroes who has actual powers, yet isn't as awesome as regular-guy-with-assload-of-cash Batman. Hold your head high, Aquaman! On this day, you're the better blonde...

Find Out What It Means To Me

Wow. My family is a piece of work.

My beef with my Aunt Judy aside, it would seem that more of my family are taking a leap-of-faith swan dive off the 200m stupid platform into the empty kiddie pool of what the fuck. As I've stated before, I believe that it's a sick, sorry thing when a person actually shows more love for an imaginary man in the sky they can't prove exists without the word "faith" than they do for an actual, corporeal, tangible family member. These kinds of people actually sever ties with family members over religious differences.

This is why the empty pool is called what the fuck.

Even with all the knowledge I've tried to amass over the course of my lifetime, I still can't seem to fathom this phenomenon. And since we're talking Christianity, I might as well use a metaphor that Christians can identify with. Somewhat...

It's like there's a little invisible gnome, we'll call him Chompsky, living in the space between my brain and my various inputs (eyes, nose, et al). Chompsky's job, it would seem, is to decide what information is allowed to pass him by and carry on its merry way towards my memory and what is absolute rubbish. In a way, he's my brain's co-pilot. At any rate, for the rubbish, Chompsky has a little mallet that he uses to bat away the incoming bullshit, preventing my brain from becoming a sewer of useless, baseless crap.

A person who chooses God over Family must be rubbish, because Chompsky won't allow the concept to enter my internal database. Nope, no sir. Not a chance in hell. This is because Chompsky knows that, despite anything and everything that can come between people, the bond of family is a trump card when all other cards are on the table.

Imaginary men, mallets or no, should not trump that which you can see, feel, recognize, understand, communicate directly with, and most importantly of all, actually love.

And yet members of my family can't seem to understand this. Their fanatical devotion to the Magic Sky Pixie has led them to cut ties with me. They and their friends most likely think that I'm an embarrassment to the family, since I don't play ball in the House of the Invisible Cloud Monkey. To them, I am a blemish, a cancer, one that can be treated with the tried-and-true Christian throwback cure called "out of sight, out of mind."

I'm the embarrassment? I'm not the one clinging to the delusion that some omnipotent-yet-impotent super being even exists, let alone is more important that what's right the fuck in front of you. I'm not the one who condemns for stupid ideological reasons based on said magic space wizard. I'm not the one who professes unconditional love, yet administers unabashed hate because a 1600 year old story book told me that something isn't right.

I grew out of that phase. I filed that kind of nonsense in the fiction section. I know where my priorities are: They're with my family, my friends, and most of all, focused on my son. Where are yours? Well, you might as well forget family, because you've made your choice abundantly clear. Kissing the non-existent ass of the Amazing Man Upstairs is way more important than any family you might have.

Yep, that's right. When you consider excluding one, you open the door to excluding them all. Yoda said it best: "Once you turn down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny."

Rachel, I hope there really is a Hell, because I want you to enjoy your trip there. And as the demon bus to Flamey Town rides past me, I'll smile and wave, and know that you and Aunt Judy are on your way to the very place that you people believe that bad folks should go first class next to Pat Robertson and every fucking Pope that has ever held office.

Forsaking your family is bad. I don't need any god to tell me that much is true...

Dubya Gets One... Right?!?

Mark this day on the calendar, because I'm about to give +1 to one of the people in this nation that I despise the most: George W. Bush. To see Farker's heads asplode, hit the thread.

"First of all, it takes time to get the supplies in place. That shouldn't deter them. In other words, there's an expectation-- amongst people that things are going to happen quickly. And sometimes it's hard to make things happen quickly. Secondly, there is a great reservoir of good will that wants to help. And that's why he asked us to help, and we're glad to do it."

Yeah. Good on Bush, right? Took him 9 years, but he finally got one right for a change. And the thing is, he actually spoke it well. That in and of itself is a small miracle. Hopefully, his efforts with President Clinton to bring attention to the crisis befalling Haiti will allow him to see how things SHOULD be handled, and maybe we can get another miracle: He'll apologize for fucking things up so badly...

Ahhh, a man can dream...

The One Not Mentioned

Over the years and over the blogs, I've gone on quite a number of rants about the joke that is my love life. I've written diatribes about this ex and that ex, the effect they had on me, and the lasting scars that came as the result of these so-called "relationships."

But recently, I've come to remember one that, when compared to the others, didn't really seem to have the impact that they did. Hence, when I went on my rants, she remained unmentioned. However, now that I've been reminded of it all, and now that I think about it, this relationship - unfairly brief though it was - was probably one of the best I'd ever known.

Looking back, it's apparent to me now that this was my first real shot at love, and for reasons I can no longer remember, I somehow screwed it up. Then, of course, I left for Pittsburgh, and entered into the Twilight Zone as far as relationships went, so I couldn't really fix this mistake.

Oh, how Time and Fate work in crazy ways...

I can't really say much about it: It's still a very new situation, and I have no idea how it's going to go. In fact, I'm pretty sure I won't know for some time yet. But, like any good detective, I've picked up on some clues. (And it's funny, as I mention any good detective, TV Batman Adam West is voicing a Lending Tree commercial - awesome!) Hopefully I don't read them wrong.

And, since I know that she'll find her way here, I have a message for her:

10 years ago, when I came back from Pittsburgh, I went to the Fair. There, I saw you, and even walked right past you. And I said nothing. Like an idiot, I said nothing. I should have said hello. I should have said "Hey, remember me?" Part of me knew you couldn't forget, but part of me was also afraid it wouldn't end well. Lots of things didn't end well since then, trust me. But could have, should have, would have - didn't. I'm sorry...

Odyssey Two

2010. It's finally here.

Big fucking deal, really.

When I was a kid, science fact and science fiction both drove my imagination, as well as my hopes and dreams for the future. Up until the Challenger disaster in 1986, my mind was always making my eyes look skyward. Star Wars, Classic Trek (TNG would appear in '87), The Jetsons, books by folks like Arthur C. Clarke and Issac Asimov...

The possibilities were endless.

And then reality stepped in. Ruined by religious interference and conservative thought at the absolute wrong time, we're nowhere near where we dream we'd be by now. This auspicious date - made legendary by the Clarke story and Peter Hyams film - has finally arrived, and we're nowhere near where we should be.

I know it's almost silly, but I really have to get it out of the way first. Look: We sent people to the fucking MOON 40 years ago, so WHERE THE FUCK IS MY FLYING CAR? Why did we reach that lofty goal so long ago, before my lifetime, and then just... stall out? Why have we not been back to the moon since the mid 70's? Why do we NOT LIVE THERE? Why the hell did these massive human achievements just die off? Why do we limit ourselves to our own orbit, just sending probes out to other stellar bodies? Why don't we have a lunar launch facility to travel beyond our own galactic back yard? Why?

Here's something to think about: For Christmas, I got myself an HTC Droid Eris. This little device fits nicely in my hand. And it has far, far, FAR more computing power inside of it than the entire Apollo Lunar Program's fleet of vehicles had inside of them. And those ancient machines TOOK PEOPLE TO THE FUCKING MOON. Sure, my phone can let me get my email, take pictures and let me post them to Facebook, and even take control of my computer to post blog entries, but it won't let me leave the trappings of planet Earth.

Here's something else to think about: The Space Shuttle fleet will be retired soon. Know what's replacing them? Nothing. There's nothing ready to fill in the gap. Everything is going to be handled by Russia and China now. Once the Shuttle fleet goes, America has nothing.

We went to the motherfucking MOON in motherfucking 1969. And you mean to tell me that, in 2010, I have to watch the once proud American Space program roll over and play second fucking banana to the Ruskies and the Chinese?

FAIL.

Look, I don't have a problem with the Russians, or the Chinese. It's not the Chinese's fault that their government are a bunch of greedy dicksplashes. It's not the Russians' fault that they had the same problem for damn near 90 years. I have full faith in their space programs, as well as that which is developing in - of all fucking places - India. But for half a century, America was either gunning for the lead, or in the lead. And now here we are, in what, at least third place?

Same goes with Science in general, which brings me back to the flying car thing. Why has science stagnated so damned much? The promises of technology have pretty much been limited to computers and hand-held devices. Our cars get a little smarter, yes. But they're still designed to be gas hogs compared to the rest of the world. Our phones get a lot smarter, yes. But they still can't really hold a phone call anywhere yet, and commercialism makes them expensive and a pain in the ass to deal with.

Computers are a kind of barometer for this whole thing. My computers should tell you something: My first was a Pentium at 166MHz in 1996. My second, a Pentium III at 550MHz in 1999. I saw my first 1GHz system in 2000. We peaked at 4GHz sometime in the mid 2000's. And... That's where we are now, in 2001. After a decade of chip speeds going insane, we seem to have leveled off around the 3 to 4GHz mark: My current system is clocked at 3.32GHz. What gives?

I can only venture guesses as to why this is happening, and since you're reading this on this particular blog, you know exactly where I'm going to go with it. Faith in sky men makes us Stupid. And Stupid makes us make bad decisions. Religion made us stupid at several points in history, declaring true science as heresy and suppressing scientific thought and knowledge for centuries. Then it made us sheep, made us blindly follow idiocy in the name of God: Hence the election of top officials who's priorities don't include meaningful scientific development. Our nation stagnated for a long time under administrations like Reagan/Bush I/Bush II. That's 20 long years.

What were their focuses? Wars (Iraq twice, Afghanistan, Nicaragua, and let's not forget the massive FAIL of the 'War on Drugs'), Deregulation (which led to bad loans, bank failures, and your bills being sky high for pretty much any reason the company billing you can think of), and pretty much ruining this country. And they did it on the backs of silly, ignorant religious Americans who simply don't know any better and follow blindly as if they really were sheep.

Proud to be an American my ass. How can I be proud of not fulfilling the promises and dreams of 2010, and deliberately taking this nation from first in the world in so many aspects, to mediocrity?

Where we are and where we should be are two very different realities.

Still, though, I do have hope - and yes, even faith - for the future. I'm hopeful that we can get this monkey off our backs and get back to the business of bringing the future back up to speed. The dreams of Asimov, Clarke, Roddenberry, and so many others can finally be realized - and we're dropping the ball. We have to fix this, and soon. Stop singing silly songs and being complacent.

Live. Dream. Reach. Realize. We can do this. All we have to do is get started again...

The Obligatory 2009 Year-In-Review and Lyric Post Title Post

365 days. Counting this one, 72 posts. 73 if you count one I deleted out of pity. Who knows how many words, because I'm too lazy to count. So many rants, so many raves, no ROM reviews (sorry, Earthbound Zero fans, still no ROM either), yet so few posts overall. Yes, it's been a rather insane year for the ol' Lost Kid. Of course, there will be the listing of lyrical titles, but first, a look back at a very crazy year in the life of a foul-mouthed wannabe citizen journalist and entertainer with a soapbox and nearly zero self-censorship.

It started like a lot of the previous years have, and it will end just the same: Absolutely bone-chilling. Bloody weather (+1 self high five of Python-ness). All the talk about Environment this and Global Warming that and blah blah blah hippie nonsense - coupled by the equally ignorant yet closer-to-correct opposition - madness. If you just sit back and look at all the data we've collected since the dawn of modern meteorology, it's not hard to figure out what's happening to this ball of dirt floating in a giant vacuum we call home.

This year, we lost Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett - ON THE SAME DAY. First the pin-up queen, and then the king of freak pop. We all know who got more coverage. Farrah went out with quiet dignity, yet she was damn-near ignored by the mainstream media given the circumstances surrounding Wacko Jacko's death. I remember that day well: Stuck in a dually with Justin, who insisted on having the Sirius tuned solid to, of all networks, Faux News, so he could listen to the wall-to-wall Jacko coverage and say "Man, that's a shame" over and over and over and over...

Yeah, I wanted to strangle him by the time we got to Hermitage, believe you me. It took all my willpower and a walk to the local Sheetz to keep me from smacking him upside the head for that shit.

I've finally struck back out on my own again, thank whatever fairy tale figure floats your boat. The new apartment is nice, albeit a bit poor in the heat retention department. All in all, though, it's worth the work and the worry. Between the DJ gigs and Buck-It booking more shows (we have five or six coming up in the next two months, already well more than I ever did with Tempered Edge in the same timespan), it's a livable situation, and I couldn't be happier.

Well, I could, but one new thing does make up for it...

OMG DROID! Yes, I got myself an HTC Droid Eris for Xmas (thank you, Mom, you RULE!), and holy shit, I'm in love with this little gadget. I haven't really gotten balls deep in apps yet, but the ones I do have are both fun and incredibly nifty. And now, I will type this next paragraph - using my Droid as a wireless keyboard:

So yeah. Basically how it works is the phone app connects to a server program running on the computer you want to control. Then once it connects, it uses the touch screen to emulate a touch pad mouse. It also makes use of the phones virtual keyboard, obviously.

Tada! I know, it doesn't look any different. But being able to use the Droid as not only a keyboard, but a wireless touchpad mouse as well, has become the ultimate in lazy geekery for me. I'm able to start videos from my couch now, nearly completing my in-house on demand setup. All I need now is a workable front-end and I have it made. If you're curious about the app, click here.

Sadly, Electric Avenue is no more. The last show was at the end of January (with Buck-It, of course), and the restaurant closed its doors a few months later after just barely hanging on. Sad to see the place go. It really was the nicest bar in the entire region, it just had some off-color customers that really put people off to the place. Otherwise, the food was good, and the fun was even better. I'll never forget my five years there, the times we all had, the cuties that worked the day shift, and the nights stuck in that little DJ booth at the corner of the stage. Farewell, Electric Avenue! So many memories, so little time to cram them all into this not-so-quick post. I may have to stop and make a sandwich, though...

2009 was spent completely in bachelor mode, and quite honestly, it was time well-deserved. Although I do miss the company of the opposite sex on a regular basis. That, I'll have to resolve to work on in 2010...

I broke down and signed up for both Twitter and Facebook. Yay, right? Just like everybody else. Does that mean I sold out? Well, sort-of. All I'm doing is whoring my stupid little blog and getting into fun discussions with interesting people. And also making my family feel uneasy, which is always fun. If you all want, you can add me on either service (and if you came here from either service, welcome) and follow my boring little life, tweet to status update to blog post to naps in the early afternoon. The joys of growing old geeky...

Old chapters concluded, new chapters begun. I'll have a little bit more on that next year (snicker snicker), but for now, I'd like to get on to the music. And speaking of music, please imagine a little proper snack time music - perhaps "Let's All Go To The Lobby" or the parody from ATHF:MFFT - as I go make myself a sammich. Yes, that should do nicely...

~( :: Some Time Passes :: )~

There we go, much better. Now then, on to the lyrical entries from this year! Did you spot them all? Well, here's you're year-end checklist!

1. Newt Sensation - If you loved the 80s, then you should recognize one of INXS' bigger hits indeed, here adjusted for political funny.
2. Deny Your Maker - From Alice in Chains' "Man in the Box," and good advice for any religious believer.
3. All Alone, Or In Twos - The greatest band in history: Pink Floyd's "Outside the Wall"
4. The Evil of the Thriller - Duh. Click and be amazed.
5. Cuts Like a Knife - Bryan Adams: Canada owes us a big one for that guy. Double sad, he shares my birthday... From his song of the same name.
6. Hey, Kids, Rock and Roll - Depending on your age or preference in music, this is from "Rock On", originally by David Essex, but covered by such names as Def Leppard, 80s soap star Michael Damian, and Silverifsh...
7. Do You Really Want To Know? - A semi-whispered line (and only words at all) from the DJ Dado techno mix of the X-Files theme song.
8. After The Rain - The title of an album and song by Ricky Nelson's kids: pretty boy rockers Matt and Gunner, AKA Nelson.
9. Spelled G-Double-E-K... - Genius rhyme from nerdcore sensation mc chris' anthem for the rest of us, simply titled "Geek."
10. So I Looked At The Bartender... - Classic blues rock track "One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer" is the song, but most people know this Rudy Toombs-penned ode to getting wasted as heard from the legendary George Thorogood and the Destoryers
11. And finally, If Only In My Dreams - "I'll Be Home For Christmas." You pick your artist. That is all.

Right on. Good tunes that fit the mood. You can never go wrong with an awesome soundtrack for life. Just too bad that this year's soundtrack was so bloody short, at least as far as post titles go. Oh well. Maybe a New Years resolution to blog more? Where have I heard that before...

Oh well. The sammiches have been eaten, the songs revealed, and the year has been reviewed. It's now time for me to get some sleep. I have a long day tomorrow doing two things: having a wonderful New Year with my friends and tweeting this blog post occasionally.

I hope you all have a safe and wonderful New Year as well. Find a DD, and have a good time, responsibly. You all have to stay alive - I have yet to convince you all to write comments!