Atheist Meditations

Somedays I just ain't got the connection to the true love of the universe and I just want to tell people to fuck off.

Case in point: An associate of mine this morning broke into the scene to breathlessly tell a story about how marvelously her god is working in her life. In a two minute run-on sentence generously peppered with the phrases 'so like' and 'and then', she detailed a trip to the local Mexican restaurant and the encounter with a little girl there. "Oh, are you going to be our little waitress? And then, she like wanted to come over and sit with us, and so we like started talking about God and she like didn't know anything about him, and then we kept talking and then she was praying with us and accepting Jesus into her heart. And I knew my craving for fried ice cream was God's way of . . ."

So now the parents are uncertain about letting their daughter wander off to youth group with these two - but now their daughter really wants to go and they have so much fun at youth group and she'll make so many friends.

I'm sorry, but how is this different from child abuse? Or worse, traffiking drugs or tobacco to small children. Too many busy parents might think that because these folks are talking about god and religion that they have the child's best interest at heart - WRONG, these are dangerously irrational cultists who are driven by an overwhealming need to reinforce their own faith (to get their fix) and spreading the virus to children can and will get them off.

This little girl lives in a very nice little world, the beauty of youthful consciousness before too many of the dark realities of life have made their lacerations. If her parents have not elected to tell her about Jesus, maybe they don't fucking want to. Maybe she's the progeny of some atheists, or pagans, or buddhists, or fucking Jehovah's Witnessess, either way they don't want somebody preying upon their innocent child.

If someone with a swastika on their armband came to your front door and told you that they'd been talking to your child and that now your kid really wants to join the Hitler Youth Program and make some friends and have some fun, you might be a little scared and a little pissed off. This is no different. The program they have for your children is a full-immersion brainwashing routine that will strip your children from your grasp before you know it. Then you'll either have to adapt to their paradigm or your children will do something terrible to you - they will start to pity you.

There ain't a cult in the history of the world that didn't advocate getting them young.

Let's just be honest about it. Modern Evagdom in America is a big fucking cult of drug addicts. They have perfected the socially reinforced release of endorphins that group bonding can produce. What voodo and santaria started, the modern evag has finished; a complicated ritual where singing and professions of belief combine with group dynamics and a reinforced sense of being special to release a shitload of endorphins. What an athlete might feel once a year when he wins that big game, the evag heaps on themselves and their brethren every week.

They will use that drug to fuck up your kid's sense of pleasure, in a way it is on par with mary jane. Ten year olds don't need access to that either.

They will tell your children that this artificial sense of belonging that can only be created by having a group of humans profess the same things and sing and hold hands while acting submissive to a greater god (who serves as a father figure to the adult children who will indulge in such abhorent behavior) and this skews the child's perspective on what the standard for pleasure should be in their life. This is combined with a load of shit about how depression and all sorts of other maladies are caused by the agony of being 'seperated from god' to produce a system that swallows its own tail and will swallow your kid's individuality.

I got to say, I don't have children and never intend to. If someone tried that shit on my kids or the kids of my family - they're going to the hospital.

I hate the whole arrogant notion of proselytizing. If someone's faith truly drives them to it, then go after the parents and talk to them. Target the children and you ain't no better than a piece of shit drug pusher. I've never been quite so pissed off.

Dick Cheney making his 'apology' on FOX NEWS was an act of weakness.

Just got the latest issue of Rolling Stone a few days ago. RS has had some pretty damn interesting articles in the last half-year or so, as more and more of the corporate media decides to pursue profitablity by emulating the FOX model rather than respectability. Even that's not quite right, since the corporate/republican repeaters of their daily talking points possess such a disproportionate share of the media environmnet; even when someone in the more established media trys to follow through with some journalism, the din of the attack dogs can make them appear to have lost respect. Like ABC, Dan Rather and all that shit. Anyways, often RS and Playboy are the only periodicals that will contain article that can channel a bit of what's left of counter-culture.

This last one contains a major article where a space-suited astronaut be standing on the red planet, while large font type says something to the effect of: 'While it may ultimately prove impossible, and while it will surely take decades and cost well over 500 billion dollars, Nasa scientists - convinced that life on Earth is DOOMED - are determined to do whatever it takes to save the human species by colonizing Mars.'

Then you read this article and there's just quote after quote by these scientists who have pretty much given up hope that our species will be capable of evading self-destruction if we remain bottled up on planet Earth. Some also mention an asteriod as a planet killer, but I think we all know at this point that their talking about depletion of resources, nuclear warfare, and global climate change.

Hell, we all heard about the 24-year old college drop out that the Bush Administration had appointed to Nasa as some sort of minder for the career scientists over there. When he wasn't figuring out ways to turn the model of the Challenger on his desk into a water bong, he was modifying their public statements to water down any language regarding global warming. Just one obvious propagandist plant like that has me screaming in outrage, but I've learned to exhale and realize that most of my fellow sentient beings choose bliss over reality.

So the fragile, beautiful life that has slowly blossemed over that last few million years in the garden of our sweet, Mother Earth is doomed. I'm not going to dwell on it too much, in a way I think it is just a characteristic of our species. In my poetry I've often tried to work out an witty line where a single element of bacteria comes to consciousness and realizes that the spread of its kind will kill the host and take them all down with it, but if if feels guilty or not will have no effect on the spread of the bacterium. Believe me, Goddess of Nature, I feel plenty guilty.

Yet I find myself quite upset about this whole 'the human race must go on' bullshit. If life on earth is doomed, and a big ark is going to be built to take a select few to a new planet - it sure as fuck won't be the children of my social class that get to go. Oh sure, a few of them, those who 'rose to overcome adversity', proved themselves exceptionally gifted at absorbing the instutional education system, and then found niches for themselves where they could make themselves highly useful to the goals of the ruling class while remorselessly shitting on the brothers and sisters they left behind - they might have some technical jobs over on Mars. The bulk of the ark will be filled with those who can afford it, however. The same folks who've spent the last forty years working a machine that purposely prevented our species from having the sorts of discussions that might have lead to greater equality or a chance to save the planet.

Much as the sci-fi lover in me wants to daydream about life in the future on other worlds, the socialist in me says fuck ya in the eye. If we're going down I want to see every one of those fuckers going down with us. Ain't no 500 billion of our tax dollars need to be spent on the chance that the Bush twins might be able to escape to serve as brood mares and carry on that noble bloodline. No. Spend that money on social programs so at least the last few generations of Americans can enjoy part of the last tragic acts on our world's stage.

To quote the Lizard King:

Five to one, baby, one to five,
No one here gets out alive!

Congratulations Harry Whittington! I believe you are the first man to be shot in the face by a standing Vice President in the history of our republic! Cost of a box of birdshot: $8.00, Cost of an emergency helicopter medivac: 10,000 dollars, Access to the Vice President: at least $100,000 in bundled contributions; place in history secured: priceless.

Some of the little details that I find interesting include: That the owner of the Ranch Ms. Armstrong, also a pioneer and thus a $100,000+ contributor to the Bush/Cheney machine. Is this sort of like the Midas Touch in reverse? These guys won't touch anyone who has not laid a hundred large down at their feet. Oh, and Armstrong ran Halliburton when they hired Cheney the first time around.

Also, I hate to admit that I get my news from Jon Stewart, but according to his program the quail shot (at) were the farm raised, 'flight impaired' variety. I'm a big fan of hunting, at least when it's done within such codes that help to nurture the populations, not decimate them, but that sort of shit has always rubbed me the wrong way. That's the indulgent hobby of aristocrats, not the working man's past-time that also puts food on the table.


On to this whole Vanity Fair thing. What's up with that? I can't believe what a big deal all of these articles are making out of nothing. I just don't get it.

Maybe the producers of Vanity Fair thought they need to shy away from the dangerous rep they were getting after scooping every other form of media in the country with the identity of Deep Throat.

I can't help but see a slight glimmer of similarities between the rukus of Mohammed 'toons and these two page jeriamiads condemning Mr. Ford and Vanity Fair. Alito will be sitting on the highest court in the land for decades, religious fundamentalists are making decisions at the FDA over what drugs women should have access to, the debate over a woman's right to control her own body has degraded into 'sluts who'd rather abort than pay for the pill.' I'm sympathetic to the women's movement - in fact it's members are the only women I enjoy forming strong bonds with - but your battle is not my battle. When I see this major offensive against Vanity Fair, I can't help but question the soundness of your amazonian stratagists.

I don't know. If this offends the phillies, go ahead and say so. Perhaps as a sensitive man I'm just not quite on the right frequency to get it. I saw the cover and immediately my brain went into fantasizing land. It seemed to me to be a fantasy. Not a blueprint for how the world should work.

Anyhoo, now I'm just adding to the floodwaters of words.

Damn, it is Valentine's Day today. Should have written something romantic. Sorry.


"So, like the thing is, if your right and I'm wrong, than when we die were both dead and
I lose nothing. But, if I'm right and you're wrong, than I get eternity and you lose
everything. See what I mean?" Her confidence radiated out of her like the love of Jesus.
Her friendly brown eyes gleamed and her braces danced in her smile.

Concern darkened his brow, "Drew, where did you hear that dirty little thing?" His voice
was soft, yet carried a betraying timbre of his rising interest.

"Um, like what do you mean. . . "

"That pseudo-logical little collection of words you just laid out for me? Where did you
come accross that? Can you tell me who's responsible for exposing it to you?"

"I saw it on this website about `Is God Real?', like, I don't see what your getting all
worked up about?"

"Look," and he paused for a momentary meditation on the essence of patience, "What you
just said about losing nothing or everything is a nasty snare. It's like, . . . um, it's like they
are a really bad man and they're about to throw a hood over your head. See, look how it is
set up, what it tricks you into accepting without justifying anything. They tell someone
that,'if I believe in this fantasy, and you are right and it does not exist - I lose nothing'.
That's the lie right there. But then they do the little bait and switch comparison to say
that if they're right they get super fantasy land, and you get nuth'n. Maybe you get
tortured forever by demons. You follow me?"

Drew cautiously nodded.

"The comparison has to be goofy, since the rewards they get for being right are based on
their fantasy world. They want you to think about all of those magical rewards, doing that
engages your imagination and people like to doing that. A lot of the, I hate to say cultist,
but this is definitely a cult trick, let's just say religions that are willing to use little tricks to
get their claws into kids. Some say that if you do what they say you'll get wings and live in
the clouds, some tell young boys that they'll have a thousand girlfriends in the afterworld,
some say you get to see all your favorite pets when you die- some say you don't. They want
you thinking about all of these possible good things, if what they say is true, on one level
enjoying the stimulation to your imagination and associating it with his side of his
illogical arguement."

"He was just trying to convince me," with a bit of the young generation's exasperated
sarcasm. "What's the big deal?"

"The big deal is that what they are doing is about the same as me saying 'Hey, look! ain't
that teen hearthrob Marky Mark dropping his trousers?', then, when you turn to look; I
steal your wallet and blame it on Little Richard. Keep your eyes on your wallet and think
about the first part of his arguement, the part he wants you to repeat and accept without
thinking about it too much. If I'm wrong and you turn out to be right, then we're both
dead when we die and that's it, We're both dead, so I lose nothing by believing in my
fantasy world."

"I think that's where the bullshit starts getting annoying," He continued, "Because look at
the fantasy worlds that they pull people into. And I'm not just talking about the wacko
cults where everybody buys nikes and then commits suicide, although I don't want you
dealing with those people either. Let's just take the standard evangelical world. They put
your mind and your imagination in a box. How they do this involves the fact that once
your 'on fire for Christ', you are almost constantly surrounded by others who voice
opinions and reinforce prejudices that are all pretty much the same. Most of the books you
read come from the printing presses they own or recommend, that's what your friends are
reading and talking about. The radio and all the music those crazy kids dance to these
days is created out of this same fantasy world. It reinforces the same opinions and
prejudices of evangelicalism. Soon, most of the words your hearing on a daily basis are
arranged in an order; the order their church says. See the freedom and the liberty they are
losing?"

He gestured with frustration, "Argh! I just think it is so terrible. So unnecessary and
limiting. The worlds they just thow away. So many, many incredible people have lived on
this planet, all the books and stories you can read that come from so many
different lifetimes, not just the lifetimes that are 'on fire for Christ.' My favorite topic is
the whole, 'Meaning of Life Thing', so many folks have had so many fascinating thoughts
on that. So many guys have twisted around in the winds of insanity dwelling on that stuff.
I think it's awsome. Evags only get their one or two takes on that whole thing, how
boring."

"There are more reasons than just that, my sweet girl," he continued, "Particularily for a
young woman. The fact is that such a fantasy limits your options. In a dangerous and
ever-changing world, the last thing you want is to limit the options that are available to
you."

"Well, whatever," the pitch in her voice matched her falling interest.

A while back some cranky, old, fat patriot said something like, "freedom of the press is only insured for those who own a printing press."

How true that.

Lately I've been waxing on about how the internet is out last, best hope to save civilization from the python clutches of mass media and massive stupidity. It still is, but one has to be very quick and effective in determining which forums and other places in our virtual communities are worth a fuck in terms of their respect for freedom of speech. None of us have unlimited time or creative energies, and nothing is more wasteful than to have devoted a few months, hours, or even a good train of thought on a website where the wisdom you've bestowed gets quickly deleted.

I've got two main beefs here. The first is with fucking Blogster dot fucking com. I left that site a few months ago after they changed their format and started to suck on a major level. Honestly, once someone gets the hang of this blogger format - with way more functionality and customization - they are never going to go back to that dumpy place. Plus, at blogster, while I did get a lot of comments from folks who disagreed with me (I dig confrontation) it did not require an investigative journalist to realize that some of those whistle dicks were running three, four, even five blogs, and were doing some sort of circle jerk with themselves where they would comment on their own blogs about how smart and how right they were. So I thought I'd try moving out into the real world.

Blogster under this new management sucks. I assumed since my last few postings detailed how much blogster sucks, and contained links to the new Aurelius, that I'd get deleted from over there in no time. Instead, blogster has decided to edit out all my hyperlinks to here and then invalidated my login. I've emailed them like two or three times requesting that they just delete the damn thing - whatever.

This whole problemo might just be due to the fact that the new folks at blogster bit off more than they can chew and my few emails have not gotten through their tidal wave of complaints they must be dealing with over there at fucking blogster. Even my accusation of deleting my hyperlinks might just be that their code was all fucked up, it did not have to be a malicious act.

Yet yesterday when doing a search on Evangelicalism Sucks, I was surprised to see my old blogster site come up within the deeper pages of google. There was my work, loaded up with fucking adverts, and I couldn't even access it. I'm also pissed cuz there are still a few folks over a blogster that I'd like to comment on, but I can't and they must think I'm just blowing them off since my site is still up over there.

Blogster sucks.

Next, I've started joining some christian forum sites in an effort to save more souls from the sorry endless loop of fundementalistic christianity. This one had all these rules about keeping each thread on topic, and being respectful to everyone's belief's (even atheists), refraining from vulgarity and personal attacks. I'm willing to do all those things, since I'm a nice fucking guy, but their rule #11 was a bit too much. Rule 11 - this is a site devoted to the belief that the bible is the inerring truth and any liberal theory ( the misguided schtick of the last two hundred years that has lead to gay unions, child abuse, celebration of divorce, and gay bishops ) will stand the risk of being immediately deleted. {my paraphrase, but pretty accurate}

They weren't kidding either. I left one comment on their new user forum asking how the rule regarding the respect for the beliefs of atheists can be reconciled with rule 11's determination to delete anyone who points out any of the hundreds of contradictions in the bible. Blam, deleted in less than two hours.

So neither of these sites makes my short list of quality internet. One must struggle to uphold the Ideals of theFirst Amendment whenever they find themselves in control of a 'printing press.' Sure we have to have limits - I'll delete anybody who leaves comments that make personal attacks on my sideburns - but for the most part we need to grow a bit of a thicker skin to be good internet citizens; sites where certain views are selectivly edited out cannot stand as a part of the 'making the world a better place' equation.

Peace, out.

In driving down the narrow, inner-ring, suburban streets of the Twin Cities metro area, I experienced a familiar event. Actually, I was in the exit lane on the freeway as traffic was coming to a stop along the main three lanes due to rush hour. Now my general rule of thumb is to never do more than fifteen or twenty miles more per hour than the 'trapped' lanes next to me. Dumb asses are always going to try to pull out without warning, that's just what is in the dumb ass'es nature, and I prefer to have the laws of physics on my side when it comes to avoiding their dumb asses. This meant that dispite the fact that my exit-only lane was relatively clear, the rest of the freeway was bumper to bumper, so I was driving about twenty-five or thirty. Naturally, I immediately had someone in an SUV come flying up on my ass at about sixty and start getting all crazy gesticulation in my rear view. She then seemed to channel the fact that I could fucking care less about her need to drive as fast as possible, so she passed me on the shoulder and went cannonballing up the exit ramp.

This seemed to me to be ap propos of our society and some of the maladies of consciousness that afflict it. Sure, she was acting inside the law and had the right of way, but sometimes grown ups need to deal with the fact that simply because they have the right to do something does not make it the best choice. If she is doing the legal limit of seventy, and some sixteen year old in a big van pulls out suddenly with a load of his home-school brothers and sisters, children are still going to die. "It all happened so fast, there was nothing I could do" won't cut it. Reasonable people with a reasonable capacity for foresight consider consequences.

This cartoon bullshit in Europe and the Middle East is the same way. Sure, the Freedom of Speech entitles those of us who were fortunate enough to be born in a liberal state to print or say just about anything we could possibly want. There are times for pushing the limit of that, say in the comedy of Lenny Bruce or in a purposefully profane blog site such as my own. At other times - say when there are multiple wars engaged on muslim soil - restraint might be the mark of wisdom.

I believe in comforting the afflicted and afflicting the comfortable, attacking religious dogmas is what gets me out of bed in the morning. Yet we also have a responsibility to 'act locally.' Start your criticisms with your own self first. As Americans we have a much greater capacity to assist change in the major religions of our own nation, than we could ever hope to apply to the religion of the Middle East. Let's deal with the fundementalism in our own backyard. With the poor saps who have let Ralph Reed and a handful of rich bastards pervert their often perverted but occassionally noble christianity into a tool of political obfuscation. To ignore the big problems, and devote their 'spiritual efforts' to imposing a set of laws in this country that is uncomfortable for the majority of us, but that prepares this 'christian nation' for the return of their messiah. That's where us rational folks need to apply some afflicting criticism.

I'd also argue that we should be realistic about these violent protests going on all over the Middle East. It's called a safety valve. Most of these protests are occurring in states that are highly authoritarian. Very few authoritarian states have had long-term success by standing on their populations neck twenty-four seven. Even behind the Iron Curtain in ole Soviet-istan, a small amount of political comedy was permitted in their papers, about the equivalent of the Jay Leno monolouge. Does nobody remember the protests in China a while back regarding Japan's return to certain educational texts glossing over the atrocities committed in WWII? China, does not have a track record for letting protests get out of hand - they usually just run the poor fuckers over with tanks - but this protest held no threat to their power structure, in fact it helped them with the foreign policy goals they held at the moment.

Same with these Mohammed 'toons. Most of these countries are highly controlled states. If you want to hold a protest regarding a lack of civil liberties, or to question why 90% of the states riches are poured directly into the hands of the royal family; the 'security forces' have got a problem with that. You want to indulge in a little religious fanaticism, antagonize a little socialist country on the edge of the arctic circle - big fucking deal. You are not even hacking at a limb on the tree of evil, you're just running around with a pair of pruners making a shitload of noise.

Finally, I want to weigh in on those church bombings going on down in the South. I don't think I've read all that much about it, but the obvious fucking motivation seems to be somehow excluded by the mainstream press. Here is my prediction.

These fire-bombings are the act of a few wackos who are assosciated in some vague way with the 'militia men' movement. They are members of a group of gun-worshipping white guys who look forward to the upcoming 'race wars' with the same excited trepidation that some of our poor evangelical friends look forward to their 'rapture.' These 'race wars' will be a time of great violence, but also a period of trial where those of the 'superior' race will earn glory and respect.

The pattern we see here is no great variation. They burn down some predominately white churches (since the 'enemy' strikes first) then they wait a few weeks and begin to target some predominately black churches - simulating a counterstrike. The timing around MLK jr day cannot be ignored. These wacko fucks who seek to stir up racial animosities for their own delusions almost always target religious holidays or other such events. Look at the shit in Iraq for another example. I'd bet my sideburns that's what's going on down in 'bama right now.

The problem is bigger than most folks realize. Even if my scenario seems a bit over-the-top to my worldly, urbane readership, this is another situation where the fragmentation of our media and society inflicts some heavy wounds upon our nation. In the white-supremist media these church fires will be explained in exactly that framework. They have their own record labels where angry young bands will write rap-rock songs that channel the rage at these church fires in exactly that way. They have countless websites devoted to expressing a world view where this scenario would be perfectly valid. They based their media system on the proven model that damages over 100 million 'born agains' in our country.

We cannot rely upon the major media to act as a neutralizing common ground. That has been completely bought and paid for by those who think the entire meaning of life can be expressed only in the most holy act of 'consumerism.' With the lead up to wars and the ignoring of scandals, we can be pretty certain that the sooner most network and cable programming becomes irrelevent to our public sphere the better. Then we've got these fragmented sub-cultures where one can sinfully surround oneself with music, news, opinion, movies, and damn near every social relationship that remains soundly within the constraints of this retarded world-view. It's a fucking sticky wicket.

The internet, and the blogs/forums in particular, are our best shot at reform and saving souls. Here, where free speech remains omnipotent, where various opinions often clash and even folks with good Ideas better be ready for stunning criticism.

I used to be involved with a local group that advocated media reform, but I lost my drive with them. We cannot 'reform' the established media, that's trench warfare and we ain't got the guns or the numbers to assault their dug-in defenses. We need to fight revolutionary war style, going into the frontier of the internet - refusing to line up in front of the red-coats for a chance to swap the smash and bleed.

Yeah, my sisters and brothers, it is here on the internet where we shall win whatever victories the rational have left to win.

There is a particular species of blogger who stakes him or her claim as a 'moderate' via the argument that they 'get their news from both sides of the media.' Thus they may watch the O'reilly factor, but they they also listen to some public radio too. These folks lack the necessary amount of insight into how the world works to be a good citizen.

The other day I was visiting a website, and one of the commenters had a question regarding the initialisms for the various timezones. As I further into my day the problem there got to me. 'You've got the fucking internet dude. Wikipedia, google, ect. ect. one can find information on anything they don't understand in a matter of seconds . . .' That's both the boon and the burden of our generation. We can't be like the generations before who could say, 'well, that's what they told us in the papers and on the radio, how were we to know that was really going on?' We can see one bumper sticker on 'Bhopal' and with a google search learn more about how corporations work than even your more militant yippies could articulate a generation ago.

I'm to the point where I see no point in taking in much of the media produced by corporations and as propaganda for the ruling classes. I used to consume all kinds of it, thinking that I could understand how it was used and maybe even learn something; fantasizing that I'd call Dennis Praeger and with a few eloquent sentences turn his entire audience against him. It's all nonsense. The purpose of this media has nothing to do with informing citizens or helping us to understand the world - it's just a fucking noise machine. Each of us only has so hours of conscious life. We spend so many 'earning' our living. We spend another fair portion enjoying Love and Life, Sport and Sex; what few hours are left in a week for the duties of citizenship?

I agree with Harry Belefonte, why should anyone go on Fox News? Legitimizing that bullshit machine is a sinful act.

Take the snippet of 'conversation' I heard on public radio on my way home from the Y tonight. Axis Sally was interviewing a guest whom I havn't the slightest clue as to his identity. She posed a question as thus: "President Bush has made it clear that a major push for his adminstration is the promotion of democracy in the Middle East . . . blah blah blah, Hamas, blah, blah, blah, Iran . . ."

Only the stupidest individuals on the face of our planet actually think Mr. Bush has any interest in promoting democracy. His administration has given millions to support the overthrow of Hugo Chavez, because he's not the kind of leader they wanted elected. His administration assisted in the violent overthrow of Aristede from Haiti, a country that has suffered much at U.S. hands for her efforts at democracy - at her tragic efforts to be anything but a big fucking plantation in the carribian. Saudi Arabia, not a democracy; Bush holds hands with their crown prince. Pakistan, not a democracy even if the military dictator calls himself 'president', and they've got nukes and a poor track record on 'fighting terror.' Uzbekistan, has gotten hundreds of millions in our taxpayer dollars, they boil people to death in that little piece of hell. I should not need to go on. Iraq's election was largely a managed one, labor unions are still illegal there - and that's important when you want to fuck a people out of their rights and make sure the only way they interact in ethnically and religiously.

So the NPR (or maybe it was Minnesota Public Radio, like I said I only had it on for a minute) commentator should never have framed a question like that, since it is obviously bullshit. The guest should have corrected her for her ignorance or insertion of a talking point immediately, or else he is stained by the same sin. The thirty seconds I consumed before I turned the station to metal told me all I needed to know. That's a quick judgement, but it's right fucking on.

I hate what has happened to public radio in the last few years, even more so since only Bill Moyers had the nuts to say something about it, to resign and speak out. The rest of them are worthless.

A stream of consciousness triggered by my more than pleasant first weekend as a thirty-oner.

Superbowl was a fine contest between two excellent teams. Each one wanted two win damn bad, both took risks. My brother thought that the game was a bit over-reffed, and I have to say that I agreed. Particualirly as NFL football is watched by the vast majority of its audience via the big-screen T.V. As a spectator at the field, when a flag get thrown there's at least a chance you know why - on television, and this flaw also reveals why so many of our fellow patriots have their head's up their asses, one's point of view is totally controlled by the cameras that are chosen to follow 'the action.' So we observe that early Seahawk reception in the endzone, then we hear Madden tell us there's been a flag thrown. We wait. . . Too many of those moments, that's all I'm say'n

Now for a sport that no one can say is over-reffed, check the UFC payper view that was broadcast last Saturday night. I won't try to summarize it here, but I'd say this quote by 'The Truth' does a fair job, 'Kick him in the head, knee him in the face, collect my check and go home.' I'm not sure how much our friend B- pays for that show, but it is some damn entertaining violence. Paris Hilton was in the audience, so you know that competition is getting classy. Two lessons we learned that night: If you want to be a champion you better be comfortable getting covered in the other guy's blood, and the fucker who looks the toughest with all his tats and brands might be all show. Some of these guys look like your worst nightmare from a prison rape movie, and other guys look the sort of dumpy fella you reackon just started at the Y last week. Always bet on Brazilian juijitsu.

Yet dispite all this groovy entertainments the full suckiness of Bush and the Republican agenda still manages to smudge up our nations's T.V. screens with their grimy fingers. More memo's released where Bush is telling Blair that he's going to invade Iraq even if he has to ignore the entire U.N., while he's telling the American people that he wants to do everything diplomatic he possibly can - force is the last option. Then that fucking budget bill that got passed last week. Whafuck? I guess my fellow citizen's don't care that our nation is racking up monsterous debts to China while we slash taxes on - here's an interesting example: If your next door neighbor was in denial about his addictions and maxing out all his credit cards to buy guns and ammunition, perhaps you'd start to feel he was going to be a problem soon.

Perhaps.

Suffice to say, my posting on Kurt Browning should be before my one about my birthday. Blogger seems to be doing some updating, so I'm going to leave well enough alone and move on with my life.

So I've been wrestling with the tar baby of yet another birthday this week. As of just an hour ago, I was like- fuck it, it's my birthday and if I want to wallow in depression that's my what I'm gonna fucking do. So I flipped on the T.V. (the 'little trigger' on nihilism's revolver) and suddenly I'm looking at Kurt Browning wearing the wildest shirt and skating to this groovy jazz tune. Now Mr. Browning is a helluva good-looking guy. Receeding hairline, fair spot on top, keeps the hair short, but clearly not the shave of shame. No side burns, but a damn handsome man. At first I was apprehensive, thinking that the only time guys this good looking get on the television be when they act all effeminate - and the skating thing meant that all sorts of my rural, midwestern prejudices began to darken my views on him. Then he started to skate and blam!

First I wanted that shirt. White and satin, long sleeve dress shirt, with an irregular pattern of red and gold rectangles scaled over each other like some sort of modern art print. Too flashy even for a lounge singer, a man can only get away with this sort of 'look at me' foilage when he's in a spotlight at the center of an ice arena.

His moves were smooth, confident, and groovy in a way that channels the deep-throated howl of primitive masculinity. All the bullshit sarcasms I'm filled my mind with surrounding grown men and figure skating disappeared. This guy was a dancer, the caliber of a Fred Astaire. Watching him deliver a performance he so clearly enjoyed doing was at first amusing; soon inspirational. This qualifies as culture, as a subset of 'entertainment' that one really can imagine our forefathers' in an earlier, grimier, age enjoying - as something that elevated them above drudgery of their mundane lives and left them feeling energized to go back out there a do it all again. That bit of solance.

I've been thinking a lot about entertainment lately, most of the thoughts dark ones that keep bringing me back to death and life's meaninglessness. Like, I heard a story a few days ago about a family's whose regular nightly routine involves sitting around the DVD player and watching their favorite movies together. I thought, what a pathetic waste of a life, that's entertainment as escape. The whole world's going to fucking shit and you spend the majority of your free time watching movie's you've seen once or twice before. Even if you are not watching repeats, you can't claim to be a part of a society.

I think one of the things that changes when you get to be my age is that the unbelievable potential of life begins to wane for you. When I was younger I just felt like so much was possible and the world was such a great thing just to experience and exist within. Little direction seemed necessary as new situations and potential outcomes sprang up on a regular basis. Now I'm starting to get a feel for the rhythm of life, and realizing that this slow dance will come to an end. What sort of entertainment routines do I want to surround myself with? My twenties are over, judge them however I will; the cold hard fact is that I will never get to be in my twenties again. That part of my life cycle is over. When I get to the end, I am at the end.

I know I'm belaboring this point, but I'm a child of the video game generation. It was a shitty day in my world when I realized that there are no 'going back to my last save point' in real life. Every day you get pushed one step closer to the grave and you can never go back.

So like Kurt Browning, I've gotta move to the rhythm with confidence and style. I've got to embrace the kinds of entertainment that actually move me (particularily, when that movement is from depressed to rather peaceful) and seriously reckon with those that merely hold my attention. I still hold to that romantic notion that some culture is necessary to understand and participate in society, that it's good for you. Yet it can't all be entertainment, can it?

There must be a meaning to life aside from the hours you devote to working for some corporation and the off hours you spend getting entertained. Once I find that groovy satin shirt, I'm sure I'll be a lot closer to figuring it out.

Gotta Skate! 5 on Bravo. Aurelius out.

Yesterday I was having some connection probs, so I accidentally posted the Kurt Browning rant four times.

What I did on my birthday
by Aurelius Wolf

Yesterday was my birthday. At first I was sad to be so old. Then I got inspired, blogged for a while, and then went out with my girlfriend. It was cold outside. We drove her little red mazda.

At first our intentions were to see a blues singer that I'd heard earlier in the week on KFAI out at a bar and grill in Eagan. Usually, I don't like going to the suburbs for dining, but I'd never heard of Axel's and so I thought they might be a diamond in the rough where the less expensive property was being utilized to bring some class to the poor, unfortunate souls who dwell in the land of franchises and strip malls. I was mistaken. In a parking lot filled with SUV's and W bumper stickers I felt the familiar revulsion at the suburban existence clutch at my soul. This was one of these 'bonfire' chains that I'd seen from time to time. Just a big new barn with the wood burning schtick and the vulgar displays of luxury. In my formor incarnation I worked at too many places like that. The food would be good but merely novel variations of a theme. Most of my conversations with servers would be scripted and hollow. Everything would be overpriced and my fellow diners would seem to believe that said mark-up indicated Quality. I never even got to the front door before I told Cindy that this place looked to me like it blew. I hope the fella that sings there on Friday nights does O.K., and I hate to be so judgemental, but all the little indicators I absorbed as I prepared to enter this establishment rubbed me the wrong way.

We hiked back to the car and headed down Cliff rd. to a place in Eagan where my pal Jay and I often have a few beers before we go and see a movie (he lives down in this area, and I do have to admit I prefer the stadium seating of newer theatres.) Called Doolittles, the joint used to have all sorts of model airplanes hanging on the walls, and I never asked anybody but in my fantasy world this was not a corporate chain - just a fun place to go every once in a while that was a lot like an Applebee's (whose food I wouldn't feed to dogs) or a Fridays' (much better quality, still just still too corporate chainey to dig.) So Doolittles was a good place to take my less opinionated friends and family, so they could get the TGIFesque experience that advertising told them dining should be like, but I didn't have to suppress my disdain for the franchise model.

As cruel fate would have it, Doolittle's had just remodeled, complete with a burning bonfire in the front lawn and a firey rotisserie in the foyer. Cindy and I were pretty damn cold by the time we got in the door, they told us twenty-five minutes and I nodded to her that I'd be willing to endure it. Then they gave us a pager, and I lost it - very little food is worth waiting twenty five minutes for and standing there holding a big pager is just classless.

Cindy affirmed my love for her by putting up with my rediculous drama without complaint. We marched back out into the cold night and icy parkinglots.

Determined to land on my feet, I took a left on Cliff and drove a litte further to the southwest into Burnsville, the land where I dissipated much of my youth. Near the cornor of Cliff and 13 lay such nostalgic gems as: my formor apartment, the Denny's I once cooked at, the site of my first physical confrontation with police officers, and Stephano's Italian Restaurant. I hadn't been down there in five to seven years, but for the longest time this was my go-to place for impressing the phillies. 'Step two', as I used to refer call it.

Suffice to say, at a little after eight there was no waiting. I almost hesitate to blog about it any more, as here is a point where we as diners find our interests diverging from the restauranter's. They would prefer that their business always be slammed with paying customers to maximize profits, I'd prefer a place that does well yet does not have to give me a pager. We were there a little past peak, and it was nice to just get a smile at the door and be lead directly to a seat.

Stephano's remained that diamond in the rough I so pleasantly remembered. Quality food. Respectable wine list. The little details like elegantly long dessert spoons and heavy, woven tablecloths. Our food was excellent.

Third times the charm. It was my damned birthday and I just didn't feel like I should have to settle for the appearance of quality - esp. when Cindy was buy'n.

So I'm somewhere between consciousness and the void, when my imagination began to plague me with this wierdo dream. I'm running down this steep hill like the kids in little house on the prairie used to in the intro, when I trip and slam into a big tree.

I'm getting up, slow and dazed, when I realize the tree has a big number one burned into the trunk - and it's moving and talking like an ent from Tolkein.

'I'm the big Tree One,' it boomed, and began to chase me. Yet I was too slow to escape. Too slow and poor of footing to elude a tree. 'I'm the big Tree One,' it laughed again, cutting off my escape; as I was too predictable, too ensnared in routine to innovate an evasion.

What a strange dream, I'm sure it can't mean anything. . .