People Have the Power...

I haven’t had much to say in the past week. Maybe I’ve been bored, maybe I’ve been to busy going to wrestling shows and planning upcoming trips, or maybe I’ve been too busy actually watching the political world swirl around me instead of delving into it.

But with the Democratic National Convention in full swing, things are fun again. I don’t wanna spend too much time blabbing on about it, but something I found extremely interesting in checking out both the Democratic National Committee and the Republican National Committee sites yesterday is just how much the RNC likes to talk about John Kerry, instead of GW Bush.

The RNC load page mentions Bush by name in three different places.Conversely, Kerry gets SIX mentions. Ed Gillespie gets three mentions, Michael Moore two, and Michael Dukakis and Joe Lieberman one apiece.Interesting that the Republicans mention Kerry twice as many times as their candidate, while on the Democratic site, there may be one mention of Dick Cheney, but there's no naming of GW Bush anywhere....

Anyway, on to bigger and better – yesterday’s keynote address from Illinois state Senator Barack Obama.
 
I have little doubt that he may very well be the first African-American president or vice president of the United States.

I’d have to say this is one of the most amazing speeches I have ever read. I did not have the pleasure to see it last night, but I can only imagine the passion and emotion behind it…

Take 10 minutes when you can, and read it.

"On behalf of the great state of Illinois, crossroads of a nation, land of Lincoln, let me express my deep gratitude for the privilege of addressing this convention. Tonight is a particular honor for me because, let’s face it, my presence on this stage is pretty unlikely. My father was a foreign student, born and raised in a small village in Kenya. He grew up herding goats, went to school in a tin-roof shack. His father, my grandfather, was a cook, a domestic servant.

"But my grandfather had larger dreams for his son. Through hard work and perseverance my father got a scholarship to study in a magical place; America which stood as a beacon of freedom and opportunity to so many who had come before. While studying here, my father met my mother. She was born in a town on the other side of the world, in Kansas. Her father worked on oil rigs and farms through most of the Depression. The day after Pearl Harbor he signed up for duty, joined Patton’s army and marched across Europe. Back home, my grandmother raised their baby and went to work on a bomber assembly line. After the war, they studied on the GI Bill, bought a house through FHA, and moved west in search of opportunity.

"And they, too, had big dreams for their daughter, a common dream, born of two continents. My parents shared not only an improbable love; they shared an abiding faith in the possibilities of this nation. They would give me an African name, Barack, or “blessed,” believing that in a tolerant America your name is no barrier to success. They imagined me going to the best schools in the land, even though they weren’t rich, because in a generous America you don’t have to be rich to achieve your potential. They are both passed away now. Yet, I know that, on this night, they look down on me with pride.

"I stand here today, grateful for the diversity of my heritage, aware that my parents’ dreams live on in my precious daughters. I stand here knowing that my story is part of the larger American story, that I owe a debt to all of those who came before me, and that, in no other country on earth, is my story even possible. Tonight, we gather to affirm the greatness of our nation, not because of the height of our skyscrapers, or the power of our military, or the size of our economy. Our pride is based on a very simple premise, summed up in a declaration made over two hundred years ago, “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal. That they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights. That among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.”

"That is the true genius of America, a faith in the simple dreams of its people, the insistence on small miracles. That we can tuck in our children at night and know they are fed and clothed and safe from harm. That we can say what we think, write what we think, without hearing a sudden knock on the door. That we can have an idea and start our own business without paying a bribe or hiring somebody’s son. That we can participate in the political process without fear of retribution, and that our votes will be counted—or at least, most of the time.

"This year, in this election, we are called to reaffirm our values and commitments, to hold them against a hard reality and see how we are measuring up, to the legacy of our forbearers, and the promise of future generations. And fellow Americans—Democrats, Republicans, Independents—I say to you tonight: we have more work to do. More to do for the workers I met in Galesburg, Illinois, who are losing their union jobs at the Maytag plant that’s moving to Mexico, and now are having to compete with their own children for jobs that pay seven bucks an hour. More to do for the father I met who was losing his job and choking back tears, wondering how he would pay $4,500 a month for the drugs his son needs without the health benefits he counted on. More to do for the young woman in East St. Louis, and thousands more like her, who has the grades, has the drive, has the will, but doesn’t have the money to go to college.

"Don’t get me wrong. The people I meet in small towns and big cities, in diners and office parks, they don’t expect government to solve all their problems. They know they have to work hard to get ahead and they want to. Go into the collar counties around Chicago, and people will tell you they don’t want their tax money wasted by a welfare agency or the Pentagon. Go into any inner city neighborhood, and folks will tell you that government alone can’t teach kids to learn. They know that parents have to parent, that children can’t achieve unless we raise their expectations and turn off the television sets and eradicate the slander that says a black youth with a book is acting white. No, people don’t expect government to solve all their problems. But they sense, deep in their bones, that with just a change in priorities, we can make sure that every child in America has a decent shot at life, and that the doors of opportunity remain open to all. They know we can do better. And they want that choice.

"In this election, we offer that choice. Our party has chosen a man to lead us who embodies the best this country has to offer. That man is John Kerry. John Kerry understands the ideals of community, faith, and sacrifice, because they’ve defined his life. From his heroic service in Vietnam to his years as prosecutor and lieutenant governor, through two decades in the United States Senate, he has devoted himself to this country. Again and again, we’ve seen him make tough choices when easier ones were available. His values and his record affirm what is best in us.

"John Kerry believes in an America where hard work is rewarded. So instead of offering tax breaks to companies shipping jobs overseas, he’ll offer them to companies creating jobs here at home. John Kerry believes in an America where all Americans can afford the same health coverage our politicians in Washington have for themselves. John Kerry believes in energy independence, so we aren’t held hostage to the profits of oil companies or the sabotage of foreign oil fields. John Kerry believes in the constitutional freedoms that have made our country the envy of the world, and he will never sacrifice our basic liberties nor use faith as a wedge to divide us. And John Kerry believes that in a dangerous world, war must be an option, but it should never be the first option.

"A while back, I met a young man named Shamus at the VFW Hall in East Moline, Illinois. He was a good-looking kid, six-two or six-three, clear eyed, with an easy smile. He told me he’d joined the Marines and was heading to Iraq the following week. As I listened to him explain why he’d enlisted, his absolute faith in our country and its leaders, his devotion to duty and service, I thought this young man was all any of us might hope for in a child. But then I asked myself: Are we serving Shamus as well as he was serving us? I thought of more than 900 service men and women, sons and daughters, husbands and wives, friends and neighbors, who will not be returning to their hometowns. I thought of families I had met who were struggling to get by without a loved one’s full income, or whose loved ones had returned with a limb missing or with nerves shattered, but who still lacked long-term health benefits because they were reservists. When we send our young men and women into harm’s way, we have a solemn obligation not to fudge the numbers or shade the truth about why they’re going, to care for their families while they’re gone, to tend to the soldiers upon their return, and to never ever go to war without enough troops to win the war, secure the peace, and earn the respect of the world.

"Now let me be clear. We have real enemies in the world. These enemies must be found. They must be pursued and they must be defeated. John Kerry knows this. And just as Lieutenant Kerry did not hesitate to risk his life to protect the men who served with him in Vietnam, President Kerry will not hesitate one moment to use our military might to keep America safe and secure. John Kerry believes in America. And he knows it’s not enough for just some of us to prosper. For alongside our famous individualism, there’s another ingredient in the American saga.

"A belief that we are connected as one people. If there’s a child on the south side of Chicago who can’t read, that matters to me, even if it’s not my child. If there’s a senior citizen somewhere who can’t pay for her prescription and has to choose between medicine and the rent, that makes my life poorer, even if it’s not my grandmother. If there’s an Arab American family being rounded up without benefit of an attorney or due process, that threatens my civil liberties. It’s that fundamental belief—I am my brother’s keeper, I am my sisters’ keeper—that makes this country work. It’s what allows us to pursue our individual dreams, yet still come together as a single American family. “E pluribus unum.” Out of many, one.

"Yet even as we speak, there are those who are preparing to divide us, the spin masters and negative ad peddlers who embrace the politics of anything goes. Well, I say to them tonight, there’s not a liberal America and a conservative America—there’s the United States of America. There’s not a black America and white America and Latino America and Asian America; there’s the United States of America. The pundits like to slice-and-dice our country into Red States and Blue States; Red States for Republicans, Blue States for Democrats. But I’ve got news for them, too. We worship an awesome God in the Blue States, and we don’t like federal agents poking around our libraries in the Red States. We coach Little League in the Blue States and have gay friends in the Red States. There are patriots who opposed the war in Iraq and patriots who supported it. We are one people, all of us pledging allegiance to the stars and stripes, all of us defending the United States of America.

"In the end, that’s what this election is about. Do we participate in a politics of cynicism or a politics of hope? John Kerry calls on us to hope. John Edwards calls on us to hope. I’m not talking about blind optimism here—the almost willful ignorance that thinks unemployment will go away if we just don’t talk about it, or the health care crisis will solve itself if we just ignore it. No, I’m talking about something more substantial. It’s the hope of slaves sitting around a fire singing freedom songs; the hope of immigrants setting out for distant shores; the hope of a young naval lieutenant bravely patrolling the Mekong Delta; the hope of a millworker’s son who dares to defy the odds; the hope of a skinny kid with a funny name who believes that America has a place for him, too. The audacity of hope!

"In the end, that is God’s greatest gift to us, the bedrock of this nation; the belief in things not seen; the belief that there are better days ahead. I believe we can give our middle class relief and provide working families with a road to opportunity. I believe we can provide jobs to the jobless, homes to the homeless, and reclaim young people in cities across America from violence and despair. I believe that as we stand on the crossroads of history, we can make the right choices, and meet the challenges that face us. America!

"Tonight, if you feel the same energy I do, the same urgency I do, the same passion I do, the same hopefulness I do—if we do what we must do, then I have no doubt that all across the country, from Florida to Oregon, from Washington to Maine, the people will rise up in November, and John Kerry will be sworn in as president, and John Edwards will be sworn in as vice president, and this country will reclaim its promise, and out of this long political darkness a brighter day will come.

"Thank you and God bless you."

Careful With That Axe, Eugene...

Background info – the seating on the Long Island RailRoad is fairly simple. One side of the train is two seats wide; the other side is three seats wide. There is VERY little leg room, and even if you’re of average size, it’s hard to sit comfortably without your knees being wedged into the back of the seat in front of you.
 
The exception is the “compartments” at each end of each car. They’re a bank of four (or five, on the side with three rows) seats that FACE each other. If you’re lucky enough to have no one sitting directly across from you, there’s plenty of legroom.
 
Now, to the matter at hand –
 
There is this lady on the train every day. In my nearly five years of this commute, I cannot remember a day when she didn’t just seem nasty and grumpy. And every day, she’s in “her” seat, in one of those compartments. I get on the stop after hers, but I’ve been told that she pushes people out of the way to get to that particular seat as the train doors open at the first stop.
 
She’s a complete bitch. Just a really mean person, and anytime someone sits in “her” compartment, she gives them the evil eye and acts like that person has offended her somehow.
 
Yesterday, a couple wearing buttons that say “I’m blind and deaf”, and each having a large service dog, gets on the train, and the dogs lead them to the compartment where that lady is sitting, because those are the first seats upon entering the train.
 
She looks at them like “who the fuck are you?” and refused to move. I mean, like she just sat there, and ultimately my buddy John got out of his seat (he was in a row two seats wide – very crowded for even just two people to sit), so the blind and deaf couple wouldn’t have to stand there in the middle of the aisle of a moving train.
 
These two people, AND THEIR DOGS, cram into the seats John gave up. The poor dogs were literally on top of each other, and shoved under the seats. They were absurdly well behaved, but it was just so obscene.
 
I was furious. I mean, like tears of rage kind of furious. I felt like crying I was so angry. I just couldn’t believe that someone could be that cruel, to not just people, but those poor puppies too. I mean, she’s a nasty person, but that just took it to new levels…
 
I really wanted to grab her by her lapels and jerk her up out of the seat, but I also didn’t really want to spend my day sitting in some jail cell in Queens. Instead, I decided to loudly let her know how I felt.
 
While she’s no doubt racking up mega-bad karma points, but I probably earned some myself.
 
I yelled at her.
 
I called her a bitch to her face, and I told her that just because she was miserable with her shitty little life didn’t mean she had to go around making everyone else miserable.
 
I also informed her that if there were any justice in this world, there was a bus grill in Manhattan with her name on it, just waiting for her to step off the curb.
 
And that was how an otherwise not-so-bad Monday morning ended up starting my week off rather craptacularly.

Johnny, Are You Queer?

Rick Santorum. Rick Santorum. Rick Santorum.

sorry, i can't get the name of this vile, disgusting man out of my head. i know it's old news to beat on old Ricky, but he's just such an easy target.

a republican senator from Pennsylvania, Santorum's legendary homophobia has resulted in a sexual term being named after him, that, of course, being Santorum - The frothy mix of lube and fecal matter that is sometimes the byproduct of anal sex.

Santorum's root as a noun (as opposed to a Proper Noun) began just over a year ago, in this legendary column by noted author and sex columnist Dan Savage.

You can read the column for yourself, but Senator Santorum caused a firestorm when he compared consensual gay sex to incest, bigamy, adultery, and "man-on-dog" sex. Somehow, he got away with this, and to this day, still makes asinine statements.

Anyway, a reader of Savage's sex column Savage Love indicated that he didn't want to see the Santorum scandal fade away, and suggested a sex act be named for him. Like wildfire, the idea took off, and after over 3,000 suggestions, the now most recognized definition of Santorum was decided upon.

In fact, it's so recognized, that if you Google the word "Santorum", the above linked webpage explaining the sexual definition of his name comes up before his official Senatorial webpage.

anyway, in his neverending quest to terminate the civil rights of otherwise law-abiding citizens, the fine Senator from Pennsylvania said yet another thing extremely offensive in speaking in favor of a constitutional amendment to ban equality.

and what did he say?

"I would argue that the future of our country hangs in the balance because the future of marriage hangs in the balance," said Sen. Rick Santorum, a leader in the fight to approve the measure. "Isn't that the ultimate homeland security, standing up and defending marriage?"

Funny, i could have sworn that preventing terrorists from knocking the shit out of us like they did on 9/11 was the "Ultimate Homeland Security".

What a campaign slogan - "Prevent Gay Marriage and you'll end terrorism."

Screw you Rick Santorum, you frothy mix of lube and fecal matter. Screw. You.

Fight For Your Right...

has it really already been a week since my last entry? man. i suck. i am a slacker. and a loser.

i've just been confused lately. there's so much going on in my wrestling world and my political world, i don't really even know what to write about.

in the wrestling world, i road tripped to essington, PA a couple weeks ago, and this weekend i'm going to Elizabeth, New Jersey. In the political world, GW Bush is still cocking up all over the place, the senate is discussing a constitutional ban on gay marriage, and oh yea, John Kerry picked a running mate.

by the way, i should mention (read: brag) that 15 months ago, in April of 2003, i predicted that the democratic ticket would be John Kerry/John Edwards.

but enough about me. oh wait, no, this blog is mine, so it's ALL about me!

anyway, i'm sure what's going on with those loons in the Republican party. i mean, on one hand, you have the party loyalists who wouldn't imagine voting for anything other than a Republican, probably because they're trained sheep and couldn't imagine doing anything else, even if Adolf Hitler himself came back and ran as a Republican.

on the other hand, you've got hardcore Republicans who love their party, and realize it's been hijacked by these crazy fundamentalists that only care about war, over-spending, imposing their own moral agenda on others, and of course, taking a big fat stinky dump all over the U.S. Constitution, perhaps the most sacred document this country has.

i feel bad for the latter group. it's dawning on them that to get in a candidate who thinks like they do, they'll have to vote for an opposition candidate, so in four years they can try again.

i mean, Lynne Cheney, Dick's better half, is the perfect example. HER OWN HUSBAND, and her husband's boss, both think this country needs a Constitutional Amendment to make hating people because they're not like you acceptable. But Lynne is a woman with standards, and she's gonna do her own thing, even if it means being killed and replaced with an exact duplicate.

She's decided we don't need that Constitutional Amendment. She thinks it oughta be up to individual states, and she's damned right, it oughta be. Then again, unlike her husband who eats babies, Lynne thinks from the heart, as her very own daughter is a lesbian.

oh yea, and it doesn't hurt that Lynne has penned some interesting erotica, complete with Hot Lesbian Action, perhaps, as they say, writing what she knows?

go on Lynne. stand up for your daughter. and stand up for yourself.

Cool Jerk...

So yesterday I'm wandering around Chinatown with my girl and some friends, and we walk past this place called Chinatown No. 1 Jerky or something like that, and I sloooooooooowly walk past the window like a kid walking past a chocolate store, before finally passing it. And I stop. And I debate amongst my selves as to whether I take my broke ass in there and buy some jerky. Because. I am a mark for jerky. But I am also one broke S.O.B.

I've liked beef jerky forever. And like a lot of jerky aficionados, I started out with the usual - some sort of Slim Jim product. But, as I got to that age when I could travel around, it became fun to seek out regional jerky brands. You never knew what odd flavor combo you might find, or whether you'll find some damned good jerky, or maybe something nasty that tastes like it was run over by an F-150 pickup truck and left on the road for a week.

Probably my favorite jerky when I can get it is Rosie's Beef Jerky, out of Vermont. I used to live in Vermont, and bought it all the time. Then, after I'd moved away, I'd make sure to get a mess of it when I visited. Of course, I could order on-line, but there's something impure to me about ordering jerky on-line.

Once, when I was visiting a friend outside of Detroit, I tried Ted Nugent Gonzo Meat Biltong, which was decent enough, but more interesting for the packaging: a photo illustration of the Motor City Madman himself, straddling a buffalo and proclaiming "I Test Drive All Meat!!"


And finally, of course, all of us who have a "preferred choice" of anything, also have the "preferred settle," that being the option that's more easy to obtain than our preference, but not nearly as ghetto as the rotgut variety (aka, Slim Jim branded anything). In my case, it's Jack Link's.

Jack Link's blows away pretty much any Slim Jim product. Sure it's got MSG in it, and sure it's got lots of other ingredients I can't even pronounce, but for mass-produced, chemical-laden beef jerky, it ain't half bad.

I definitely dig the Jerky Chew, because between the round Skoal tobacco type container, and the fact I can drop some of that beef chew between my teeth-and-gum, I feel pretty goddamned fucking cool, like a cowboy about to lasso up some dawgies.

But of all the Jack Link's products (and that doesn't count the Fully Cooked Ground Beef, something I haven't tried yet, but kind of scares me despite my affinity for dried out meat parts), my preferred poison is the Peppered Beef Jerky, probably just because it's chock full of peppery goodness.

Anyway…I've WAY WAY WAY digressed. I feel like I just did my Master's Thesis on Beef Jerky.

Back to Chinatown for my experience at Chinatown No. 1 Beef Jerky.

So yesterday I'm wearing this really cool t-shirt a friend at a record label hooked me up with. It says "Fuck The World" on the front, and it's kinda got this cool flame motif, somewhere between the worlds of metal and rockabilly.

I walk in, and the man I presume to be the proprietor gets up from his seat, where he's eating what is probably lunch with two fairly attractive Asian women. He greets me at the door, looking every bit like the stereotypical grizzled old American expatriate that seems to exist in every single movie that takes place in Asia.

He's got a silver-grey short-cropped military style haircut. He's got a stocky build, he's wearing a t-shirt with some forgettable logo on it, he's got on cargo shorts, and his feet are clad in sandals.

And most importantly, he's got a scar that runs from about an inch above his eye to an inch below his eye, and that eye is opened slightly wider than the other, and the eyeball itself is a different color from his fellow eyeball.

His jovial greeting of me, while speaking English, slightly inflected with slight Asian accent, doesn't help to dispel the stereotype at all.

"Great shirt man," he says, admiring the flames that adorn it. "That shirt is HOT!"

"Hey," he continues. "Lemme ask you something, because that shirt is so hot it's on fire. Do you set the shirt on fire first, or do you set the ladies on fire first?"

i must admit the question caught me off guard. I was expecting to buy some oyster-flavored beef jerky or something.

"Ummmm," I stammered. "um. Both?"

"No man, you set the ladies on fire first," he explained. "Because if you set the shirt on fire first, the Fire Department's gonna come quick, and ain't no ladies gonna wanna be around you with all that commotion going on."

And with that he pointed at one of the women and snapped his fingers, and she scurried up to the counter to take my order for a 1/2 pound of fruit-flavored beef jerky.

War Pigs...

Saw Fahrenheit 9/11 today.

Great movie. Great story. Really, really emotional.

Sadly, the people who need to see this movie probably won't. If you see this movie, and still think that the reason we attacked Iraq starts and ends with a desire to remove Saddam Hussein from office because he was a threat to the U.S., then you're either an idiot or a sheep.

I strongly recommend seeing it. It's simply an astonishing film, and it really connects the dots on an issue that anyone who considers themselves a responsible human being should know about.

I won't go too much into the details of the film. it's already been blogged to death. Besides, i would hate to give away something and lessen the emotional impact.

Just see it. As soon as you can.

What to the Slave is the Fourth of July?

So it's kinda cool that i walk out of my apartment building, walk a block north, and see the fireworks they shoot out over the East River here in NYC. I'm a big mark for fireworks, so i think it's neat.

anyway, as fireworks go, they were kind of unspectacular this year. i dunno, i read that it was gonna be the biggest fireworks display EVER, or at least in NYC. Well, it sure didn't seem that way.

anyway, what was entertaining was this drunk old guy who sort of marched through the small mass of people standing in the street watching the fireworks. Mid-step, he yells out "FREEDOM!!!"

When no one reacted, he yelled again, only a tad quieter, and this time in a questioning tone - "Freedom?"

and still, no reaction.

so he basically starts shuffling Tim Conway-style in a small circle, repeating over and over again "Freedomfreedomfreedomfreedom."

That rocked.

---------------------
By the way - the song title that makes this blog entry is a track by Ossie Davis on the wonderful collection from Smithsonian Folkways called "Every Tone a Testimony: A Smithsonian Folkways African American Aural History"

I thought the title was appropriate, because i dunno, i'm not digging July 4 like i used to. i mean, don't get me wrong, i'm proud to be an American (although i hate that fucking song), and i think it's a really important holiday for us because it symbolizes a break from oppression (yes yes, for white men, i realize that, but i'm not trying to be all pc and dig too deep here. i'm just talking the basic ideology) and the victory in a struggle for freedom.

but these last two july 4ths have been harder for me, because i feel like our country is doing a great deal of the oppressing these days...not just internally, but externally. we attacked another county - evil despot as a leader of not - we attacked another nation, unprovoked, and we had never done that before.

we're supposed to be the good guys. the super heroes. the ones who come to the rescue when the world is about to be destroyed by Lex Luthor or the Joker or some aliens from another planet.

But lately, i just feel like we're the ones who the true super heroes need to stop from destroying the world.

Feel Like Makin' Love...

ok. so someone on my message boards remixed that wrestling video i posted yesterday. he slightly altered the video mix (but did not add anything extra), and changed the music.

although the original was pretty much as good as it gets in proving the homosexual subtext of professional wrestling, this remix may actually top it.

I'm in the mood for love...