I hate abortion talk as much as the next right wing conservative dickhead. I do. In a perfect world, abortion would be unnecessary, but then, we hardly live in a perfect world.
I was walking to a meeting downtown yesterday. I ended up walking past the Planned Parenthood clinic and there were two older gentlemen standing outside with large posters of aborted babies and crosses and the like. I was in a hurry, otherwise I would have asked a couple of questions.
First, why is it almost always older white men who protest abortions? Do older white men hate abortion more than, say, younger black men? Or women in general?
Whats with the crosses? Do only catholic older white men hate abortion so much that they plant themselves in front of clinics?
The large posters, where do you get them? In my life I have never run across posters of this size in any other form, except the abortion people and the God Hates Fags loonies. Is there a special printer who only handles hate speech?
Finally, since older white men do not get pregnant, why do you care what others do to their bodies? For gods sake older white people, have you seen the tattoos of this younger generation? I am daily more disgusted by tattoos than I have ever been about abortions. In fact, from what I hear, an abortion can scare a woman for life, and so can a tattoo. How about deciding that on some days you protest at abortion clinics, and on others, tattoo parlors?
Mostly, I support both sides in this argument. Personally I have always been anti-abortion because I believe the life starts at ejaculation. I also strongly believe in an individuals right to choose what to do with their bodies, from aborting unwanted babies to tattooing the shit out of your body. I don't want to do either, so I don't.
What I do not understand from my older white male friends is why they are so passionate about a procedure they will not ever have to face? It's not like women are outside urologists offices demanding that no treatment be used for prostate cancer. Of course, that is not the same, because cancer surgery is different from abortions, because one saves a human life, the other ends one, or something.
I am all for freedom of choice in all forms, from drug use, to prostate play, to abortions. See, I am anti-abortion, but I will never get one, so I will never face that choice, which must come with some karmic consequences that are hard for men to fathom. Women know what is growing in them, they know that given the 9 months needed for a fertile egg to do it's thing, they would have a human life in their hands. They know ending that life is a terrible thing, but sometimes they must make that choice, which I am happy I never have to do.
My advice to older white men who have a need to tell women what to do with their bodies is this, think hard about what it is you wish for. This is a great country because we all get to make choices on who we date, what we eat, who we elect and what we want to do with our bodies. I have no tattoos, but I like the idea that others can pollute their bodies in any form they want, just don't force me to get one. I do not like abortions, but I do like that a woman has the right to decide if now is the right time to be bringing a baby into this chaotic world. I like that older white men can choose to protest and show disgusting pictures in public, I just wish they would choose something that would actually affect their lives, and not the lives of people they do not even know.
That old line always fits in this situation, if you don't like abortions so much, don't get one.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Elections matter
I am far from political, mostly because I just do not understand the process. Rarely if ever do I toss my support out for a candidate to love it, use it and return it before the sun comes out, but I am about to change all that.
I grew up in California. I remember a little known bad actor getting elected governor, before he went on to run for higher office. I remember the son of a former governor getting elected, before going on to become mayor of Oakland (more on that in a separate paragraph) and of course, I actually lived through the removal of one governor so another bad actor could take office, garble his speeches and turn a once prosperous state into a bankrupt mess.
Ahh, California, my home state, and now, a complete clusterfuck. Who would want to even watch the election process of this once great state, much less endorse one or more of its insane candidates? Me, that's who.
Please readers of this blog, friends of mine, followers of my facebook ramblings and viewers of my short but sexy films, follow my lead and re-elect Jerry Brown governor of California. I do not throw my support to Brown just because his is the only name I know how to spell, nor is it because the woman running against him started Ebay, or something. Although, in recent news coverage, the woman whose name I can not spell, looked like one of the oompa loompas from Willy Wonka, which actually makes her more electable in my book. If I ever run for political office, it will be on the Oompa Loompa platform.
I ask you to consider Jerry Brown because he personally saved me from a lifetime of self hatred and depression. He personally did the most heroic act a civilian could do, and he did it without reward, fanfare of a single news story.
Jerry Brown saved my sons life.
That is true and wonderful and it is time the world knew.
The year was a while ago, I do not remember years, much less years in which a balding former governor saved my sons life, suffice to say, I was still married at the time, so it was pre-2000. We, my loving family, and I had landed at the Oakland Airport, on a trip to the Bay Area for something important. My young son, who was probably 5-6 at the time, was gregarious and loved people, he loved to walk up to strangers and say hello. It was all very sweet, until that terrifying night in Oakland, where he almost died, were it not for the quick actions of one former governor and soon to be governor again, Jerry Brown.
My son and I walked out of the main terminal, and while I turned behind to try and locate what was, at the time, the rest of my growing family, my son took it upon himself to begin to cross the street, in the midst of traffic of all sorts, from angry cabs driven by out of control, drugged up, illegal aliens, to the dangerous elderly, driving in circles because the malls had closed early that day. His life, hanging by a thread, a young boy, walking into the traffic that could easily kill him and leave him dead in the busy streets. That did not happen, not because of anything I did, but because of everything Jerry Brown did. Governor/Mayor Brown was standing on the sidewalk, no doubt welcoming people to his city, and noticed my young son, walking into traffic. Like a caring lion, he pounced into action, grabbing my sons arm and returning him to my side, unscathed and healthy.
When I saw what had happened, I tried to thank the Governor/Mayor for his lively gesture, but he just smiled, said not too worry, and quickly disappeared into the warm night, like a figment of my imagination, except this one saved my sons life, and saved me years of therapy and the emotional cost of having a child run over by the angry and insane drivers of the greater Oakland metro area.
I am almost always thankful for the good governor/mayors actions of that day. There was nothing in it for him, no press, no parades, not even a special handshake or deeply felt thanks from me.
Except now. I have literally millions of readers from California, who watch this blog for incisive commentary and stolen YouTube videos on almost a weekly basis. To those people, or at least the ones registered to vote in California, I ask you to give Jerry Brown your vote because, and I mean this, the next child he saves could be your own.
I grew up in California. I remember a little known bad actor getting elected governor, before he went on to run for higher office. I remember the son of a former governor getting elected, before going on to become mayor of Oakland (more on that in a separate paragraph) and of course, I actually lived through the removal of one governor so another bad actor could take office, garble his speeches and turn a once prosperous state into a bankrupt mess.
Ahh, California, my home state, and now, a complete clusterfuck. Who would want to even watch the election process of this once great state, much less endorse one or more of its insane candidates? Me, that's who.
Please readers of this blog, friends of mine, followers of my facebook ramblings and viewers of my short but sexy films, follow my lead and re-elect Jerry Brown governor of California. I do not throw my support to Brown just because his is the only name I know how to spell, nor is it because the woman running against him started Ebay, or something. Although, in recent news coverage, the woman whose name I can not spell, looked like one of the oompa loompas from Willy Wonka, which actually makes her more electable in my book. If I ever run for political office, it will be on the Oompa Loompa platform.
I ask you to consider Jerry Brown because he personally saved me from a lifetime of self hatred and depression. He personally did the most heroic act a civilian could do, and he did it without reward, fanfare of a single news story.
Jerry Brown saved my sons life.
That is true and wonderful and it is time the world knew.
The year was a while ago, I do not remember years, much less years in which a balding former governor saved my sons life, suffice to say, I was still married at the time, so it was pre-2000. We, my loving family, and I had landed at the Oakland Airport, on a trip to the Bay Area for something important. My young son, who was probably 5-6 at the time, was gregarious and loved people, he loved to walk up to strangers and say hello. It was all very sweet, until that terrifying night in Oakland, where he almost died, were it not for the quick actions of one former governor and soon to be governor again, Jerry Brown.
My son and I walked out of the main terminal, and while I turned behind to try and locate what was, at the time, the rest of my growing family, my son took it upon himself to begin to cross the street, in the midst of traffic of all sorts, from angry cabs driven by out of control, drugged up, illegal aliens, to the dangerous elderly, driving in circles because the malls had closed early that day. His life, hanging by a thread, a young boy, walking into the traffic that could easily kill him and leave him dead in the busy streets. That did not happen, not because of anything I did, but because of everything Jerry Brown did. Governor/Mayor Brown was standing on the sidewalk, no doubt welcoming people to his city, and noticed my young son, walking into traffic. Like a caring lion, he pounced into action, grabbing my sons arm and returning him to my side, unscathed and healthy.
When I saw what had happened, I tried to thank the Governor/Mayor for his lively gesture, but he just smiled, said not too worry, and quickly disappeared into the warm night, like a figment of my imagination, except this one saved my sons life, and saved me years of therapy and the emotional cost of having a child run over by the angry and insane drivers of the greater Oakland metro area.
I am almost always thankful for the good governor/mayors actions of that day. There was nothing in it for him, no press, no parades, not even a special handshake or deeply felt thanks from me.
Except now. I have literally millions of readers from California, who watch this blog for incisive commentary and stolen YouTube videos on almost a weekly basis. To those people, or at least the ones registered to vote in California, I ask you to give Jerry Brown your vote because, and I mean this, the next child he saves could be your own.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Thursday, June 3, 2010
I'm sorry
Oh my, first off, my long time hatred for Lance Armstrong continues.
Second, I am terribly sorry for this video, please forgive me.
Second, I am terribly sorry for this video, please forgive me.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Griffey retires
Before I reprint some article from a Seattle newspaper, let me just glance back at my own personal history and how it has intersected with both Ken Griffey junior and bicycles.
First, when I moved to Seattle many years ago I had a loft right across the street from the King Dome, which is where the Mariners played their home games. At the time the Mariners were a joke of a baseball team and tickets were easy toc ome by. How easy? The Boeing Company would purchase hundreds of tickets for each game, but since Boeing employees had yet to band wagon jump, a fat labor leader would position himself on a corner near the stadium and give away tickets. So friends and I would wander over, grab some tickets, drink some beer and scream stupid stuff in an almost empty dome.
Then Ken Griffey stated to play. Instead on nonsense, be began to chant "hit a home run" and often times, it seemed, he did.
Then Alex Rodriqguez showed up and Randy Johnson and the team started to win and the dome was imploded and a new outdoor stadium was built and the team continued to do well and all the band wagon jumpers made their move and no more free tickets could be found, ever.
Griffey moved on, as did Rodriqguez and Johnson and the team sometimes played well, but mostly they did not. Griffey returned in the twilight of his career a couple of years ago, and now he is retiring. Hold for the story I have stolen, because, first, bike riding.
One year my friend Glen and I somehow had opening day tickets and we were riding our bikes like crazy men down second avenue in Seattle, happily on our way to the big game when I crashed and faced it on the pavement. Blood dripping down my face, my shirt torn, my body sore, but we were blocks away from the golden land, so we walked it, got in, drank some beer, yelled for homeruns and the world seemed right.
Ken Giriffey is only a baseball player, he will never cure cancer or paint a beautiful picture. But he did have a sweet swing and a beautiful smile. Today, he retired from a game he has played his whole life. I have never met Ken Griffey, but I like the way he has played, the way he has carried himself and sometimes a team and that infectious smile that said, even though he was playing a game for millions of dollars, he knew, in the end, it was a game.
"Mariners star Ken Griffey Jr. announced his retirement Wednesday afternoon.
Griffey, 40, hit 630 home runs in a 22-year career that began with the Mariners as a 19-year-old in 1989.
"I've come to a decision today to retire from Major League Baseball as an active player," Griffey said in a statement released by the team.
Griffey was not at Safeco Field for the Mariners' game Wednesday against Minnesota.
"This has been on my mind recently, but it's not an easy decision to come by," Griffey said in the statement. "I am extremely thankful for the opportunity to have played Major League Baseball for so long and thankful for all of the friendships I have made, while also being proud of my accomplishments."
Griffey, the No. 1 overall pick in the 1987 draft, spent the first 11 years of his career with the Mariners. He was traded to Cincinnati after the 1999 season, and played with the Reds until spending the second half of the 2008 season with the Chicago White Sox.
Griffey returned to the Mariners last season and hit .214 with 19 home runs and 57 runs batted in. He was given credit for helping the Mariners rebound from a 101-loss season in 2008 to go 85-77 in 2009.
But Griffey had struggled at the plate this season, hitting just .184 in 98 at-bats. He had not hit a home run this season, and had seven RBI.
"I'd like to thank my family for all of the sacrifices they have made all of these years for me," Griffey said. "I'd like to thank the Seattle Mariners organization for allowing me to finish my playing career where it started. I look forward to a continued, meaningful relationship with them for many years to come.
"While I feel I am still able to make a contribution on the field, and nobody in the Mariners front office has asked me to retire, I told the Mariners when I met with them before the 2009 season and was invited back, that I will never allow myself to become a distraction. I feel that without enough occasional starts to be sharper coming off the bench, my continued presence as a player would be an unfair distraction to my teammates, and their success as team is what the ultimate goal should be."
Griffey ranks fifth all-time in home runs, trailing only Barry Bonds (762), Hank Aaron (755), Babe Ruth (714) and Willie Mays (660).
Griffey was a 10-time American League All-Star and was the league's MVP in 1997. He also made three National League All-Star teams. He won 10 Gold Glove awards and seven Silver Sluggers.
"Ken is both the finest ballplayer I have ever known and one of the finest people I have ever known," Mariners president Chuck Armstrong said in a statement. "I consider myself unbelievably fortunate to have had the opportunity to watch a first-ballot Hall of Famer's career unfold in front of me, and in front of the great fans in Seattle."
Armstrong and Mariners CEO Howard Lincoln each credited Griffey with saving baseball in Seattle.
"Ken is truly the heart of soul of this franchise," Armstrong said. "Without his contributions there is little doubt that Safeco Field would not exist and, almost certainly, baseball would have left the Northwest.
"He always gave his all on the field, and quietly was a force for good in the community."
Lincoln called Griffey "the ballplayer most responsible for keeping Major League Baseball here in Seattle and the Pacific Northwest."
Lincoln continued: "For me, Ken Griffey is more than just a fabulous baseball player. He is a great man in every sense of the word. He is a wonderful family man; he is a man of deep compassion who has given generously to his fellow man; and he is a man who has played the game of life clean and with passion and conviction."
Mariners general manager Jack Zduriencik called it a sad day for the Mariners.
"It is rare in this game when you get an opportunity to reunite a player and a team," Zduriencik said. "We feel honored that Ken was able to end his career where it began, here in Seattle. I'd like to wish Ken, Melissa and his family the very best."
Griffey said in the statement that he hoped his teammates could focus on baseball and "win a championship for themselves and for the great fans of Seattle, who so very much deserve one.
"Thanks to all of you for welcoming me back, and thanks again to everyone over the years who has played a part in the success of my career."
First, when I moved to Seattle many years ago I had a loft right across the street from the King Dome, which is where the Mariners played their home games. At the time the Mariners were a joke of a baseball team and tickets were easy toc ome by. How easy? The Boeing Company would purchase hundreds of tickets for each game, but since Boeing employees had yet to band wagon jump, a fat labor leader would position himself on a corner near the stadium and give away tickets. So friends and I would wander over, grab some tickets, drink some beer and scream stupid stuff in an almost empty dome.
Then Ken Griffey stated to play. Instead on nonsense, be began to chant "hit a home run" and often times, it seemed, he did.
Then Alex Rodriqguez showed up and Randy Johnson and the team started to win and the dome was imploded and a new outdoor stadium was built and the team continued to do well and all the band wagon jumpers made their move and no more free tickets could be found, ever.
Griffey moved on, as did Rodriqguez and Johnson and the team sometimes played well, but mostly they did not. Griffey returned in the twilight of his career a couple of years ago, and now he is retiring. Hold for the story I have stolen, because, first, bike riding.
One year my friend Glen and I somehow had opening day tickets and we were riding our bikes like crazy men down second avenue in Seattle, happily on our way to the big game when I crashed and faced it on the pavement. Blood dripping down my face, my shirt torn, my body sore, but we were blocks away from the golden land, so we walked it, got in, drank some beer, yelled for homeruns and the world seemed right.
Ken Giriffey is only a baseball player, he will never cure cancer or paint a beautiful picture. But he did have a sweet swing and a beautiful smile. Today, he retired from a game he has played his whole life. I have never met Ken Griffey, but I like the way he has played, the way he has carried himself and sometimes a team and that infectious smile that said, even though he was playing a game for millions of dollars, he knew, in the end, it was a game.
"Mariners star Ken Griffey Jr. announced his retirement Wednesday afternoon.
Griffey, 40, hit 630 home runs in a 22-year career that began with the Mariners as a 19-year-old in 1989.
"I've come to a decision today to retire from Major League Baseball as an active player," Griffey said in a statement released by the team.
Griffey was not at Safeco Field for the Mariners' game Wednesday against Minnesota.
"This has been on my mind recently, but it's not an easy decision to come by," Griffey said in the statement. "I am extremely thankful for the opportunity to have played Major League Baseball for so long and thankful for all of the friendships I have made, while also being proud of my accomplishments."
Griffey, the No. 1 overall pick in the 1987 draft, spent the first 11 years of his career with the Mariners. He was traded to Cincinnati after the 1999 season, and played with the Reds until spending the second half of the 2008 season with the Chicago White Sox.
Griffey returned to the Mariners last season and hit .214 with 19 home runs and 57 runs batted in. He was given credit for helping the Mariners rebound from a 101-loss season in 2008 to go 85-77 in 2009.
But Griffey had struggled at the plate this season, hitting just .184 in 98 at-bats. He had not hit a home run this season, and had seven RBI.
"I'd like to thank my family for all of the sacrifices they have made all of these years for me," Griffey said. "I'd like to thank the Seattle Mariners organization for allowing me to finish my playing career where it started. I look forward to a continued, meaningful relationship with them for many years to come.
"While I feel I am still able to make a contribution on the field, and nobody in the Mariners front office has asked me to retire, I told the Mariners when I met with them before the 2009 season and was invited back, that I will never allow myself to become a distraction. I feel that without enough occasional starts to be sharper coming off the bench, my continued presence as a player would be an unfair distraction to my teammates, and their success as team is what the ultimate goal should be."
Griffey ranks fifth all-time in home runs, trailing only Barry Bonds (762), Hank Aaron (755), Babe Ruth (714) and Willie Mays (660).
Griffey was a 10-time American League All-Star and was the league's MVP in 1997. He also made three National League All-Star teams. He won 10 Gold Glove awards and seven Silver Sluggers.
"Ken is both the finest ballplayer I have ever known and one of the finest people I have ever known," Mariners president Chuck Armstrong said in a statement. "I consider myself unbelievably fortunate to have had the opportunity to watch a first-ballot Hall of Famer's career unfold in front of me, and in front of the great fans in Seattle."
Armstrong and Mariners CEO Howard Lincoln each credited Griffey with saving baseball in Seattle.
"Ken is truly the heart of soul of this franchise," Armstrong said. "Without his contributions there is little doubt that Safeco Field would not exist and, almost certainly, baseball would have left the Northwest.
"He always gave his all on the field, and quietly was a force for good in the community."
Lincoln called Griffey "the ballplayer most responsible for keeping Major League Baseball here in Seattle and the Pacific Northwest."
Lincoln continued: "For me, Ken Griffey is more than just a fabulous baseball player. He is a great man in every sense of the word. He is a wonderful family man; he is a man of deep compassion who has given generously to his fellow man; and he is a man who has played the game of life clean and with passion and conviction."
Mariners general manager Jack Zduriencik called it a sad day for the Mariners.
"It is rare in this game when you get an opportunity to reunite a player and a team," Zduriencik said. "We feel honored that Ken was able to end his career where it began, here in Seattle. I'd like to wish Ken, Melissa and his family the very best."
Griffey said in the statement that he hoped his teammates could focus on baseball and "win a championship for themselves and for the great fans of Seattle, who so very much deserve one.
"Thanks to all of you for welcoming me back, and thanks again to everyone over the years who has played a part in the success of my career."
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
BP kind of evil?
Last week, the LA Times reported that local fishermen hired by BP to clean up the Gulf Coast spill had “become ill after working long hours near waters fouled with oil and dispersant.” Especially galling was the fact that one of the fishermen said that the company hadn’t provided them with any protective equipment, like gloves. Now, John Wunstell, Jr., one of the fishermen who became sick with “nosebleeds, an upset stomach, and aches,” is filing a restraining order against BP, citing the treatment he faced from the company after he went to the hospital:
“At West Jefferson, there were tents set up outside the hospital, where I was stripped of my clothing, washed with water and several showers, before I was allowed into the hospital,” Wunstell said. “When I asked for my clothing, I was told that BP had confiscated all of my clothing and it would not be returned.”
The restraining order requests that BP refrain from “altering, testing or destroying clothing or any other evidence or potential evidence” when workers become ill.
BP CEO Tony Hayward has tried to downplay the sicknesses, attributing them to food poisoning. However, Dr. Michael Osterholm, a professor at the University of Minnesota School of Public Health, has said that Hayward’s explanation sounds fishy, explaining that the fishermens’ symptoms are more in line with a respiratory illness. On Friday, Health and Human Services Secretary Kathleen Sebelius called on BP to provide treatment for clean-up workers who become sick.
“At West Jefferson, there were tents set up outside the hospital, where I was stripped of my clothing, washed with water and several showers, before I was allowed into the hospital,” Wunstell said. “When I asked for my clothing, I was told that BP had confiscated all of my clothing and it would not be returned.”
The restraining order requests that BP refrain from “altering, testing or destroying clothing or any other evidence or potential evidence” when workers become ill.
BP CEO Tony Hayward has tried to downplay the sicknesses, attributing them to food poisoning. However, Dr. Michael Osterholm, a professor at the University of Minnesota School of Public Health, has said that Hayward’s explanation sounds fishy, explaining that the fishermens’ symptoms are more in line with a respiratory illness. On Friday, Health and Human Services Secretary Kathleen Sebelius called on BP to provide treatment for clean-up workers who become sick.
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