I'm serious as a heart attack about this sh*t.
Outside of various clutch grabs in Madden '03-'06 vs. the Philadelphia Eagles, I don't think I've ever seen this guy catch a pass.
Holy God in f*cking heaven.
Finally - Mark Brunell, Santana Moss, Chris Cooley, Shawn Taylor, Joe Gibbs, Shawn Springs, LaVar, Joe Gibbs and a lot of other guys on this football team are really fun to watch.
And this guy Royal, who has been ripping my colon through my throat for f*cking years now, goes and drops three passes.
...
Go 'Skins.
NOTE: Wookiemania (TM) and its editors sincerely hope that:
a) Our audience understands the term "tongue and cheek" when reading about various acts of violence that individual contributors may or may not want to carry out on real persons, who probably do copious amounts of community service in and around the Washington D.C. area
b) Robert Royal has a happy and productive rest of his life, as long as it's lived out for another team. Preferably the Cowboys.
11.28.2005
11.11.2005
Let The Jenkins Roll Ya
The Nice Jenkins, a musical group of great import and character, will be playing the final show of their 7 city, 10 day tour of the Eastern Seaboard on Sunday night in Charlottesville at Atomic Burrito. They will be joined, as has become customary, by the warrior clan Truman Sparks (and You Are F*cked) - defenders of Trog.
When this tour was being planned, one of the musicians involved confided in me that he felt it appropriate for a band to travel only if they are missed and then welcomed home triumphantly. You, Mr. non-musician, have a duty to musicians and thusly to their wants. Consider yourself lucky. Last thing this guy asked for took some poor schlep 3 months to finish, was over 16 feet high, and was made almost entirely out of giraffe sh*t. Almost.
For any readers in Philly or DC, check the powerhouse at the Vaudville Cafe (tonite) or (and) The Grog & Tankard (tomorrow nite). Check your local listings for show times.
When this tour was being planned, one of the musicians involved confided in me that he felt it appropriate for a band to travel only if they are missed and then welcomed home triumphantly. You, Mr. non-musician, have a duty to musicians and thusly to their wants. Consider yourself lucky. Last thing this guy asked for took some poor schlep 3 months to finish, was over 16 feet high, and was made almost entirely out of giraffe sh*t. Almost.
For any readers in Philly or DC, check the powerhouse at the Vaudville Cafe (tonite) or (and) The Grog & Tankard (tomorrow nite). Check your local listings for show times.
11.07.2005
Dear Mom - I'm a Crack Addict
But it's not my fault.
You see, there's a epidemic in smallish Southern towns whose names begin with a "Ch", and it's called "Ingestion of a Substance Owing to a Kantankerous, Elderly Rapscallion Owner of Crack Cocaine".
Mother, ISMOKEROCC is hitting our streets like a like our streets were a prizefighter named Sally. While different than that one time that 'Sis tried pole dancing (Hey! In a club, with lots of other men watching...Don't be gross) to pay for "college", ISMOKEROCC is more soul-corroding because it bypasses free will entirely and involves putting a delicious crack pipe in your mouth.
Don't believe me? Think that I'm making this sh*t up? I'm not.
And I need, like, $4,962.62
Tomorrow.
For books.
You see, there's a epidemic in smallish Southern towns whose names begin with a "Ch", and it's called "Ingestion of a Substance Owing to a Kantankerous, Elderly Rapscallion Owner of Crack Cocaine".
Mother, ISMOKEROCC is hitting our streets like a like our streets were a prizefighter named Sally. While different than that one time that 'Sis tried pole dancing (Hey! In a club, with lots of other men watching...Don't be gross) to pay for "college", ISMOKEROCC is more soul-corroding because it bypasses free will entirely and involves putting a delicious crack pipe in your mouth.
Don't believe me? Think that I'm making this sh*t up? I'm not.
And I need, like, $4,962.62
Tomorrow.
For books.
10.26.2005
Scenes from an Asian Dance Party
Normally, one could expect a post with a title like this to have links to really fun pictures that feature lots of really fun people holding Solo cups and leaning a various angles in an attempt to fill the frame of a really fun picture.
So - remember that picture of the beautiful sunset that I linked to (it's about four posts down)? Well, take that picture, stick your dead great-grandmother's eyeballs into your eye sockets, while filling your mouth with as many Pall Mall's as possible and lighting them simutaneously.
Zero visibility. A mist that dropped the temperature of our surroundings about 10 degrees from the already coldest-of-the-year temps that people on the city floor felt. This, of course, was before the thunderstorm. In October. T-H-U-N-D-E-R-S-T-O-R-M.
I figure that, at the very least, I paid for a large number of recent menial sins and maybe a couple outstanding larger ones as well.
To those who came - hope you enjoyed yourselves.
To those who didn't - ha ha. We came.
So - remember that picture of the beautiful sunset that I linked to (it's about four posts down)? Well, take that picture, stick your dead great-grandmother's eyeballs into your eye sockets, while filling your mouth with as many Pall Mall's as possible and lighting them simutaneously.
Zero visibility. A mist that dropped the temperature of our surroundings about 10 degrees from the already coldest-of-the-year temps that people on the city floor felt. This, of course, was before the thunderstorm. In October. T-H-U-N-D-E-R-S-T-O-R-M.
I figure that, at the very least, I paid for a large number of recent menial sins and maybe a couple outstanding larger ones as well.
To those who came - hope you enjoyed yourselves.
To those who didn't - ha ha. We came.
10.25.2005
RIP Rosa Parks
Rosa Parks died yesterday.
I listened to an interview with her today on NPR and for the first time since I was in school, studying her era of American history did I hear the phrase "passive non-violent resistance". Where is the Palestinian Rosa Parks? Where is Africa's Rosa Parks?
Helps me remeber that even when repressed in the 1950's Jim Crow American South, the basic rights granted to (and soon after Ms. Parks, protected for) every American citizen are the greatest in the world. Also helps that the American people (sometimes only after being forced to listen like we were in time-out, over the course of decades and generations) will stand against prejudice, for their fellow countrymen.
RIP Rosa Parks.
God bless America.
I listened to an interview with her today on NPR and for the first time since I was in school, studying her era of American history did I hear the phrase "passive non-violent resistance". Where is the Palestinian Rosa Parks? Where is Africa's Rosa Parks?
Helps me remeber that even when repressed in the 1950's Jim Crow American South, the basic rights granted to (and soon after Ms. Parks, protected for) every American citizen are the greatest in the world. Also helps that the American people (sometimes only after being forced to listen like we were in time-out, over the course of decades and generations) will stand against prejudice, for their fellow countrymen.
RIP Rosa Parks.
God bless America.
10.20.2005
A Haiku for Any and All Venturing to Carter's Mountain on Friday Night for the Katie Holmes Baby Shower Party
For those heading up,
I have just three words for you:
Asian dance party.
Click here for an idea of the landscape.
Click here for my idea of an Asian dance party.
I have just three words for you:
Asian dance party.
Click here for an idea of the landscape.
Click here for my idea of an Asian dance party.
10.13.2005
Wookiemerican
Thanks to Vice King for the tip about Chewbacca (my cousin, different spelling) becoming a naturalized US citizen. His email to also included a funny bit about a wookie running for president:
Reporter: So, Mr. Chewbacca - what is your stance on abortion?
Wookie: rrrrrrrr
Reporter: OK...how about foreign policy?
Wookie: (rips arms directly off reporter's shoulders and begins to bludgen reporter with them)
Good bit, but we all know it to be completely preposterous.
You must be a native born wookie to become President of the United States.
The Nice Jenkins will be playing tonight in Charlottesville at The Mellow Mushroom. Be there.
Reporter: So, Mr. Chewbacca - what is your stance on abortion?
Wookie: rrrrrrrr
Reporter: OK...how about foreign policy?
Wookie: (rips arms directly off reporter's shoulders and begins to bludgen reporter with them)
Good bit, but we all know it to be completely preposterous.
You must be a native born wookie to become President of the United States.
The Nice Jenkins will be playing tonight in Charlottesville at The Mellow Mushroom. Be there.
10.12.2005
Mas Brunch
On Sunday, I dined with three esteemed colleagues at the hottest ticket in town: Mas brunch.
For those of you not invited to either this or last Sunday's trial runs, well, I guess this is for you, as it was easier to invite one wookie than any combination of the multiple thousands of his daily readers. Or, unlike said literary juggernaut, you haven't spent half of an African protectorate GNP on dinner and cocktails at said establishment.
Just as Sunday was a "soft" opening, the following review of the brunch will be "soft" as well. And not in the "it was free and I was excited to be invited" sense. Since the food was free (the prices weren't even written on our menus), and there was no "Eggs Benedicto", I am unable to rate the restaurant on said quality and hence, I can not complete the "overall" category as well.
Which reminds me - the review. HOLY SH*T the oysters were good. Left untouched by two of our foursome for fear of "eating things that taste good", Dr. Eramicus von Slantensberg and I attacked the half-shelled gems. Basking in a tarragon-infused vinagres (sp?), they could have contained little spikes that shredded my internal vitals on their descent and I still would have made an effort to finish them.
NOTE: Mas's brunch menu, like it's dinner menu is in Spanish and all of the dishes have very long names. This is fine for tapas, where you mark the menu in the appropriate space, but when you have to, at brunch, tell the waitress what you want, you will embarrass yourself. I promise.
Didn't try the scone, but it looked pretty darn good. The biscuits and gravy looked excellent, but the pork was of too lean a hog to render a truly eat-it-'til-ya-die-then-eat-at-it-sum'more gravy...the true je ne sais quoi of the discipline.
The bloody marys were unremarkable. SKYY or Absolut is the rail, and while presented nicely with a full celery stalk in a juice glass, there was no need to get fall-down pissed simply to keep the taste in my mouth.
I had the salmon bocadillo (?) which was a little sandwich with goat cheese and spinach and it was excellent. Very light, which for me is a refreshing rarity on Sunday mornings. The hangar steak is server rare. Not medium rare, not rare-ish: cold-in-the-middle, that-thing-is-still-moo'ing, purple rare. I'd tell you how it tasted, but I wasn't offered a bite before it was slurped away. The french toast with fresh apricots and heavy cream were good, but creamier than they were sweeter, and it was no surprise that they sat largely untouched on my associate's plate.
I had a double espresso that kept me up all afternoon and never once gave me the jitters. Seriously - 5 of 5 on that sh*t.
Our server was lovely, and was augmented by anyone who happened to pass us by, which has always been the strong suit of Mas's service credentials. We were allowed to smoke inside, and although the AC was surely attempting to counteract the previous evening's devilishness and the music was too loud at almost every juncture, the setting of the meal was plush, and made the experience that much more enjoyable.
The brunch will run from 12 to 5-6 (not sure) and is intended to service the large number of service workers who are the true brunch mavens, but often find themselves timed out of an opportunity to enjoy it. Or too incapacitated to remember their mother's name. And also too incapacitated to not pick up the phone when she calls.
Tipped $40 (4 a piece) because it was free and our waitress was pretty. (You hear that, Carwile? I hope you did...)
Ed. Note - Listen - I am not above trashing a free meal at a restaurant I enjoy going to on a regular basis if it fails me. Or telling the people how wrong I was about a joint after it blows my mind. You hear me dining establishments of Albemarle? Feed me, don't f*ck up, and the world is your oyster.
For those of you not invited to either this or last Sunday's trial runs, well, I guess this is for you, as it was easier to invite one wookie than any combination of the multiple thousands of his daily readers. Or, unlike said literary juggernaut, you haven't spent half of an African protectorate GNP on dinner and cocktails at said establishment.
Just as Sunday was a "soft" opening, the following review of the brunch will be "soft" as well. And not in the "it was free and I was excited to be invited" sense. Since the food was free (the prices weren't even written on our menus), and there was no "Eggs Benedicto", I am unable to rate the restaurant on said quality and hence, I can not complete the "overall" category as well.
Which reminds me - the review. HOLY SH*T the oysters were good. Left untouched by two of our foursome for fear of "eating things that taste good", Dr. Eramicus von Slantensberg and I attacked the half-shelled gems. Basking in a tarragon-infused vinagres (sp?), they could have contained little spikes that shredded my internal vitals on their descent and I still would have made an effort to finish them.
NOTE: Mas's brunch menu, like it's dinner menu is in Spanish and all of the dishes have very long names. This is fine for tapas, where you mark the menu in the appropriate space, but when you have to, at brunch, tell the waitress what you want, you will embarrass yourself. I promise.
Didn't try the scone, but it looked pretty darn good. The biscuits and gravy looked excellent, but the pork was of too lean a hog to render a truly eat-it-'til-ya-die-then-eat-at-it-sum'more gravy...the true je ne sais quoi of the discipline.
The bloody marys were unremarkable. SKYY or Absolut is the rail, and while presented nicely with a full celery stalk in a juice glass, there was no need to get fall-down pissed simply to keep the taste in my mouth.
I had the salmon bocadillo (?) which was a little sandwich with goat cheese and spinach and it was excellent. Very light, which for me is a refreshing rarity on Sunday mornings. The hangar steak is server rare. Not medium rare, not rare-ish: cold-in-the-middle, that-thing-is-still-moo'ing, purple rare. I'd tell you how it tasted, but I wasn't offered a bite before it was slurped away. The french toast with fresh apricots and heavy cream were good, but creamier than they were sweeter, and it was no surprise that they sat largely untouched on my associate's plate.
I had a double espresso that kept me up all afternoon and never once gave me the jitters. Seriously - 5 of 5 on that sh*t.
Our server was lovely, and was augmented by anyone who happened to pass us by, which has always been the strong suit of Mas's service credentials. We were allowed to smoke inside, and although the AC was surely attempting to counteract the previous evening's devilishness and the music was too loud at almost every juncture, the setting of the meal was plush, and made the experience that much more enjoyable.
The brunch will run from 12 to 5-6 (not sure) and is intended to service the large number of service workers who are the true brunch mavens, but often find themselves timed out of an opportunity to enjoy it. Or too incapacitated to remember their mother's name. And also too incapacitated to not pick up the phone when she calls.
Tipped $40 (4 a piece) because it was free and our waitress was pretty. (You hear that, Carwile? I hope you did...)
Ed. Note - Listen - I am not above trashing a free meal at a restaurant I enjoy going to on a regular basis if it fails me. Or telling the people how wrong I was about a joint after it blows my mind. You hear me dining establishments of Albemarle? Feed me, don't f*ck up, and the world is your oyster.
10.07.2005
A Very Special Trey's Corner
Dear Trey,Went to the Stones concert in Charlottesville. You didn't play with them. Wha happun?
-Allah Akbar (guy who called in the bomb threat)
Dearest Akbar,
Keef threatened to saw my dick off with his guitar pick if I got anywhere near the stage.
-Trey
10.05.2005
Editor's Note About the Post Below
As King of All Wookies, it would be remiss of me not to say that I will be at the Stones concert tomorrow night, fingers crossed, hoping that Trey rocks out.
That's why they're practicing with my bass.
That's why they're practicing with my bass.
Trey's Corner
Dear Trey,Are you at all nervous about opening for The Rolling Stones in Charlottesville? There is a large concentration of wookies in that town, and I'm worried that it's a subspecies you may not be familiar with: the has-a-job-and-bathes-(occasionally)-and-really-wishes-you-hadn't-rotted-out-your-brain-and-replaced-it-with-the-notion-that-you-will-have-a-top-40-hit-whatever-that-means-nowadays wookie (wookius-bitterum). How do you think you'll be received?
-Mike, VT.
Dear Mike,
Thanks for the email. Glad to see I've still got some friends up there! Also - I appreciate your concern, but let me tell you - I know a thing or two about Charlottesville! My best friend Dave lives here, and his boss does, too. Actually, his boss is my boss now - kind of like that song, "The More We Work Together" you know? "...The Happier We'll Be..."? No?...rrrrrrrRRRRRRRRRR
F*ck it. I'm going on a bender, I'm going to carve up at least one or two classics on stage with the f*cking Stones, and I don't give a piss about the wookies, believe me, Mike. Have fun up there with Leo trying to tell freshman in Burlington that you were in Phish. I'm going back to the bus to look for...what?...hang on my cell phone just rang...
Ummm...my bass player forgot his bass, and it's the day before the gig and we need to practice...anybody got one? Really? Tell that kid Dee, or whatever his name is, that I really appreciate it.
9.20.2005
The Washington Redskins Are 2-0
And I will now ask that the rest of the world shut the f*ck up just long enough to eat a big fat dick.
The offense looked awful. If I'd-a seen another 13-yard hitch go incomplete, the samurai sword was coming off the wall. Couldn't run the ball; the Cowboys had 3 defensive linemen, 4 linebackers, 2 safeties, and Liv Tyler stacked as high as Michael Irvin in the box.
Who cares? We won.
The defense looked awesome. Sean Taylor's hit on third down of the last Cowboys' "drive" didn't make up for him falling down on the flea-flicker touchdown to Terry Glenn, but it did scare the sh*t out of every white person in Dallas.
Who cares? We won.
Patrick Ramsey, who I've defended since the day we drafted him, couldn't have thrown one, let alone both of those passes to Santana Moss. I hope he gets his trade and ends up playing for Baltimore. That way he doesn't have to drive so far after every game to have John Waters offer him counsel and some hot man on man sex (I'm trying to be more Google-able. Sue me).
Who cares? We won.
My fantasy football team lost to an Eagles fan who spends his days where most Eagles fans spend their non-food stamp-collecting hours - community college.
Who cares? (Me. F*cking McNabb) We won.
When the second ball went up and I stood on the barstool that I will be standing on for every Redskins game on this season, I felt something that I hadn't felt during a Redskins game in years: Faith. I knew that pass was gonna be complete. I knew we were going to win.
Who cares? We won.
The offense looked awful. If I'd-a seen another 13-yard hitch go incomplete, the samurai sword was coming off the wall. Couldn't run the ball; the Cowboys had 3 defensive linemen, 4 linebackers, 2 safeties, and Liv Tyler stacked as high as Michael Irvin in the box.
Who cares? We won.
The defense looked awesome. Sean Taylor's hit on third down of the last Cowboys' "drive" didn't make up for him falling down on the flea-flicker touchdown to Terry Glenn, but it did scare the sh*t out of every white person in Dallas.
Who cares? We won.
Patrick Ramsey, who I've defended since the day we drafted him, couldn't have thrown one, let alone both of those passes to Santana Moss. I hope he gets his trade and ends up playing for Baltimore. That way he doesn't have to drive so far after every game to have John Waters offer him counsel and some hot man on man sex (I'm trying to be more Google-able. Sue me).
Who cares? We won.
My fantasy football team lost to an Eagles fan who spends his days where most Eagles fans spend their non-food stamp-collecting hours - community college.
Who cares? (Me. F*cking McNabb) We won.
When the second ball went up and I stood on the barstool that I will be standing on for every Redskins game on this season, I felt something that I hadn't felt during a Redskins game in years: Faith. I knew that pass was gonna be complete. I knew we were going to win.
Who cares? We won.
"Hey, Brah - Didn't I See You Groovin' at The Spin Doctors Show?"
(NOTE: If you have named your dog after a Widespread Panic song, DO NOT READ THIS)
Widespread Panic is playing today at The Charlottesville Pavilion.
For the unannointed, Panic is the stupidest band in history. Like their Ohio-based brethren OAR, they regularly pack gigantic rooms with people who know nothing about good music.
Example - Your average Panic fan couldn't tell you the name of their favorite Beatles song. This is because they lack the chromosomes that allow the human ear to process songs with a melody, or anything but a moronic 4/4 beat.
Also - most of them can't stop drooling long enough to answer questions of any sort. Widespread fans are the people who can't understand Motown, offering you, with shock at anything but total compliance: "it's gay" (see: OAR fan). Are the lines getting clearer?
However, this means the Panic Wooks are in town, and you can only imagine the day to day-incompentence of these huddles of human flesh. Around 11:00PM this evening, I'll be leaving the show, (NOTE: of course I'm going...it's gonna be f*cking Mardi Gras...) walk one block over to what will be a piz-acked City Jail, sit outside on a bench, and let their beautiful wailing be the ear candle for the gigantic mound of sh*t resting deep in my ear canal.
"BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! HEADYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY"
Widespread Panic is playing today at The Charlottesville Pavilion.
For the unannointed, Panic is the stupidest band in history. Like their Ohio-based brethren OAR, they regularly pack gigantic rooms with people who know nothing about good music.
Example - Your average Panic fan couldn't tell you the name of their favorite Beatles song. This is because they lack the chromosomes that allow the human ear to process songs with a melody, or anything but a moronic 4/4 beat.
Also - most of them can't stop drooling long enough to answer questions of any sort. Widespread fans are the people who can't understand Motown, offering you, with shock at anything but total compliance: "it's gay" (see: OAR fan). Are the lines getting clearer?
However, this means the Panic Wooks are in town, and you can only imagine the day to day-incompentence of these huddles of human flesh. Around 11:00PM this evening, I'll be leaving the show, (NOTE: of course I'm going...it's gonna be f*cking Mardi Gras...) walk one block over to what will be a piz-acked City Jail, sit outside on a bench, and let their beautiful wailing be the ear candle for the gigantic mound of sh*t resting deep in my ear canal.
"BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! HEADYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY"
9.13.2005
Trey's Corner
Dear Trey,What what do you think of Coach Joe Gibbs's decision to pull Patrick Ramsey in favor of aging Mark Brunell as the starting quarterback for The Washington Redskins?
-Worried in Washington
Patrick Ramsey was 7-12 for 120 yards in Sunday's game, converting three third downs on a single drive, after throwing one admittedly horrendous interception. This was before he was nearly decapitated by a Chicago linebacker, who was politely asked by the line judge to not commit any more penalities for the rest of the game and go on his merry way.Dear Worried,
You should be completely terrified of Mark Brunell. Last year, he was the NFL's worst quarterback. Hmmmm....worst....I guess that leaves some room for opinion...no, wait....it doesn't.
Oh, and he's not crazy either, as this snippet from his bio will show:
You should be completely terrified of Mark Brunell. Last year, he was the NFL's worst quarterback. Hmmmm....worst....I guess that leaves some room for opinion...no, wait....it doesn't.
Oh, and he's not crazy either, as this snippet from his bio will show:
"Through faith in Jesus' death and resurrection, I realized that He had bridged the gap that sin had created. As I repented of my sins and allowed Jesus to become the Lord of my life, I experienced His love and forgiveness. I began to see a greater purpose for life. Jesus wants all of us to live at the highest level. We can only do that by allowing Him to be our Lord and Savior Jeremiah 29:11"
Brunell passed for 70 in a half and change. Had it not been for the running game of Portis and Betts (finally), The 'Skins were gonna walk away losers from this one. Instead, they're 1-0, as they've been for the past four playoff-less years. Their defense allowed only 141 yards of offense, and the Bears' touchdown was the result of a special teams fumble and pitifully short field.
Predicition for Monday Night Football: 'Skins 187, Dallas 9
9.01.2005
Guilt
I promised myself I'd never do it again, and I've broken that promise.
From the day that New York City was attacked to the moment Saddam Hussein's statue was symbolically torn from it's moorings to the delight of litteraly dozens of cheering Iraqi men, I was consumed by cable news. That's roughly a year and a half.
I can remember watching the video of the latter with Dr. von Slantersberg (who's back at the blog - Hooray!). The sight of a tank bearing my flag doing what we were told was another peoples' bidding thousands of miles away churned something so vile from the pit of my stomach that I turned away and didn't look back.
Until yesterday.
I've spent at least five hours watching CNN and Fox News (hilarious!) since then, which is somewhat remarkable for a non-cable subscriber, and I will certainly watch more. The watching is not what bothers me. Aside for the media's complete side-step of the issue of race, the journalism, like what came from those embedded in the invasion, strikes a nice balance between compelling and informative.
What bothers me is that I want things to get worse.
Something in my subconscious yearns for another levee to burst, for a gang war to break out on the steps of The Superdome - something worse than the already catastrophic scenes I've witnessed. WHY?
Are the mothers right? Have I been desensitized? I don't think so, as my horror at a discussion on looting (that, again, tippytoed around race) last night would lead me to believe.
Perhaps I want to witness an event live, one that occurs while I'm watching, to validate my feelings about the flood. I've been trying to make an honest connection to a city that has welcomed me as many times as most I've visited, yet the helplessness I feel, watching this horror in this unreachable land, is palpable.
Then there is the twice aforementioned issue of race. I could sugar-coat this and say "99% of the people who have been filmed looting, paddling through the streets, or otherwise have been black." Bullsh*t. Everyone that was stranded is black.
What will linger in my memory long after the water is pumped away are the images of obese women and children, all of them black, who probably make up a good portion of the 30% of New Orleans' population which lives under the poverty line. It's hard for me to listen to reports on the increasingly criticized second-wave evacuation efforts and detach the lack of mobilization with the skin color of the people in the federal government's charge.
I saw President Clinton mention during an interview that the Prime Minister of Sri Lanka, one of the nations razed by the New Years Tsunami, had expressed his people's interest in helping the people they saw on television; people as unfortunate, before and after disaster, as them. Upon hearing this story, one of my closest advisors, in a cautious, semi-whisper deadpan replied, "Do you think they'll get as many donations, based on the faces of the disaster, as the Tsunami did?" Without waiting for a reply, she added, in the same hushed tone, "Wouldn't that be horrible?"
Perhaps I watch for a darker reason. A year ago, as Ivan roared through the Gulf of Mexico, many people were predicting a great flood would follow a direct hit of New Orleans. I don't remember exactly what I said or who I said it to, but it was something along the lines of "I'm kinda rooting for the hurricane to crush New Orleans". I guess I thought it would be kinda neat.
I will continue to watch in horror as my wish comes true.
Please make a donation, if you can, to one of the charities below or another trusted organization.
Donations -
The Red Cross
http://redcross.org
Info on how, what, and what not to donate-
http://redcross.org/article/0,1072,0_312_4498,00.html
Catholic Charities USA
http://www.catholiccharitiesusa.org/
Info on how to donate -
http://www.catholiccharitiesusa.org/donate/donate.cfm
From the day that New York City was attacked to the moment Saddam Hussein's statue was symbolically torn from it's moorings to the delight of litteraly dozens of cheering Iraqi men, I was consumed by cable news. That's roughly a year and a half.
I can remember watching the video of the latter with Dr. von Slantersberg (who's back at the blog - Hooray!). The sight of a tank bearing my flag doing what we were told was another peoples' bidding thousands of miles away churned something so vile from the pit of my stomach that I turned away and didn't look back.
Until yesterday.
I've spent at least five hours watching CNN and Fox News (hilarious!) since then, which is somewhat remarkable for a non-cable subscriber, and I will certainly watch more. The watching is not what bothers me. Aside for the media's complete side-step of the issue of race, the journalism, like what came from those embedded in the invasion, strikes a nice balance between compelling and informative.
What bothers me is that I want things to get worse.
Something in my subconscious yearns for another levee to burst, for a gang war to break out on the steps of The Superdome - something worse than the already catastrophic scenes I've witnessed. WHY?
Are the mothers right? Have I been desensitized? I don't think so, as my horror at a discussion on looting (that, again, tippytoed around race) last night would lead me to believe.
Perhaps I want to witness an event live, one that occurs while I'm watching, to validate my feelings about the flood. I've been trying to make an honest connection to a city that has welcomed me as many times as most I've visited, yet the helplessness I feel, watching this horror in this unreachable land, is palpable.
Then there is the twice aforementioned issue of race. I could sugar-coat this and say "99% of the people who have been filmed looting, paddling through the streets, or otherwise have been black." Bullsh*t. Everyone that was stranded is black.
What will linger in my memory long after the water is pumped away are the images of obese women and children, all of them black, who probably make up a good portion of the 30% of New Orleans' population which lives under the poverty line. It's hard for me to listen to reports on the increasingly criticized second-wave evacuation efforts and detach the lack of mobilization with the skin color of the people in the federal government's charge.
I saw President Clinton mention during an interview that the Prime Minister of Sri Lanka, one of the nations razed by the New Years Tsunami, had expressed his people's interest in helping the people they saw on television; people as unfortunate, before and after disaster, as them. Upon hearing this story, one of my closest advisors, in a cautious, semi-whisper deadpan replied, "Do you think they'll get as many donations, based on the faces of the disaster, as the Tsunami did?" Without waiting for a reply, she added, in the same hushed tone, "Wouldn't that be horrible?"
Perhaps I watch for a darker reason. A year ago, as Ivan roared through the Gulf of Mexico, many people were predicting a great flood would follow a direct hit of New Orleans. I don't remember exactly what I said or who I said it to, but it was something along the lines of "I'm kinda rooting for the hurricane to crush New Orleans". I guess I thought it would be kinda neat.
I will continue to watch in horror as my wish comes true.
Please make a donation, if you can, to one of the charities below or another trusted organization.
Donations -
The Red Cross
http://redcross.org
Info on how, what, and what not to donate-
http://redcross.org/article/0,1072,0_312_4498,00.html
Catholic Charities USA
http://www.catholiccharitiesusa.org/
Info on how to donate -
http://www.catholiccharitiesusa.org/donate/donate.cfm
WookieMania Fall Lineup
Come Fall, this wookie takes only one greatest professional sports team of all time seriously: The Washington Redskins.
Last year, the lair was outfitted with the great and mighty will-destroyer that is The Dish. This, in conjunction with the stalwart efforts of my BFF TiVo, allowed me to watch nothing but football all day Sunday. This meant watching other games during the commercials of the 'Skins game and being able to go back to it whenever I wanted knowing that if I waited a little longer I could rewind back to where the commercials ending and then fast forward through the next commercial break, and......whoa........dizzy.......
This is why I do not have The Dish anymore and I have sent TiVo to a far away land called "Arlington". However, I will need to watch the games somewhere, and seeing as none of my co-wookies like me ripping up their furniture, I will be heading to local eateries and giving them the WookieMania-over.
This will mean brunch for 1:00PM games, lunch / dinner for 4:00PM games, and dinner for Sunday or Monday night matchups. I will try and keep the schedule updated, as I can always use company. And someone to stick a spoon down my throat about, oh, let's hope...6 times this year.
Last year, the lair was outfitted with the great and mighty will-destroyer that is The Dish. This, in conjunction with the stalwart efforts of my BFF TiVo, allowed me to watch nothing but football all day Sunday. This meant watching other games during the commercials of the 'Skins game and being able to go back to it whenever I wanted knowing that if I waited a little longer I could rewind back to where the commercials ending and then fast forward through the next commercial break, and......whoa........dizzy.......
This is why I do not have The Dish anymore and I have sent TiVo to a far away land called "Arlington". However, I will need to watch the games somewhere, and seeing as none of my co-wookies like me ripping up their furniture, I will be heading to local eateries and giving them the WookieMania-over.
This will mean brunch for 1:00PM games, lunch / dinner for 4:00PM games, and dinner for Sunday or Monday night matchups. I will try and keep the schedule updated, as I can always use company. And someone to stick a spoon down my throat about, oh, let's hope...6 times this year.
8.31.2005
Katrina's Wake
The people of Gulf states need help.
I picked up a copy of The Washington Post this morning and held it in shock. I listened to the medical director of a hospital in New Orleans on NPR. He calmly talked about flooded generators leading to the shutdown of peoples' ventilators and the months that will pass before the water left the city.
Water is slowly tearing away the foundation of The Big Easy. Cities like Gulfport Mississippi are gone.
As many people found out after the New Year's Tsunami, there is very little, if nothing, that one can do to directly help the communities affected by disasters like this. Direct aid to charities like The Red Cross are one's most potent weapon.
I've heard numbers in the billions used to describe the dollar amount neccessary for recovery, and those will certainly rise.
To Lousianans and Mississippians - My thoughts, prayers, and condolences. I will watch you rebuild, and I will see you again.
Donations - http://redcross.org
Info on how, what, and what not to donate - http://redcross.org/article/0,1072,0_312_4498,00.html
I picked up a copy of The Washington Post this morning and held it in shock. I listened to the medical director of a hospital in New Orleans on NPR. He calmly talked about flooded generators leading to the shutdown of peoples' ventilators and the months that will pass before the water left the city.
Water is slowly tearing away the foundation of The Big Easy. Cities like Gulfport Mississippi are gone.
As many people found out after the New Year's Tsunami, there is very little, if nothing, that one can do to directly help the communities affected by disasters like this. Direct aid to charities like The Red Cross are one's most potent weapon.
I've heard numbers in the billions used to describe the dollar amount neccessary for recovery, and those will certainly rise.
To Lousianans and Mississippians - My thoughts, prayers, and condolences. I will watch you rebuild, and I will see you again.
Donations - http://redcross.org
Info on how, what, and what not to donate - http://redcross.org/article/0,1072,0_312_4498,00.html
8.30.2005
Haiku As Eulogy
Lover. Slobberer.
Two words can't define a dog.
Wait...I guess they can.
RIP Creation 2002-2005
Two words can't define a dog.
Wait...I guess they can.
RIP Creation 2002-2005
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