Monday, April 25, 2005
Some Speedy Snippets
1. First of all, I need to ask you all (loyal bubblegeese that you are) again to PLEASE participate in my latest project... I would like you to send me a picture of yourself, preferably holding a sign that says something about/to me (like "hi Carl" or "I love the Bubblegoose" or something that actually sounds creative). Please do this, I am loading the pictures onto my PSP to carry with me.
2. Look soon for my new side-project blog. More info to leak out soon.
3. Once again on Contender the forces of evil were vanquished and Ahmed lost. That guy is a horses ass. Two fights on the show, and he is 0-2. I think that speaks louder than words. If you saw him in the locker room after the fight, I think he is finally starting to realize that his talk will never match his walk.
4. They showed footage of a Star Wars convention in Indy. 3o,000 people showed up, and each person looked more nerdy than the last. I have like a billion things I want to say about this, but if you saw any of the footage, words could never say what you saw. A lot of people with no life.
5. The Sony PSP is an amazing gadget, and it has a lot of possibilities. One of them is the ability to download photos, music, and movies to the memory card and carry them with you (see item #1 above). The first company to jump on board with this technology is not a video game company, or even a music store... it is Playboy. Playboy has free downloads of non-nude pictures of a current playmate, along with a short video that is already formatted for the PSP (FYI, formating videos to play on the PSP is a huge pain... I think it is designed that way on purpose). For a small fee, you can join the Playboy SP club and get nudie pix and videos for your PSP. Once again, computer technology is at once abuse and furthered by the world's insatiable appetite for porn. More on this some other time.
Horns up!
Monday, April 18, 2005
It was a real CB BBQ...
The party started at 4 PM-ish, and the family all left by 8 PM, leaving only the drunks... I mean, party animals to finish out the night. The official end time was 4:30 AM. So I missed a lot of great times, I am sure. I'll let Troy relay that info.
The digital camera was clickin', until I filled up my memory card... I had too many old pix on the card... so I missed out on a lot. There were a lot of people there that I don't have pictures of. I didn't want to flood this site with too many pix, so you can head over to Troy's page to see more. And if you wait until later today, I am sure he'll write his own post about what went down. Expect more BBQ's to come.
The highlight of the day for me had to be when...
...not everyone had arrived yet. Mostly it wsa just the 5 members of my family, my nephew, my wife, Buck, and Stoltz. Mark had speakers propped up inside the windows of his house, and we were blaring The Doors (another Smith trademark). My dad, with a grin, said "It was 1968, and we were doing this exact same thing, except with different people and I was drinking." Dad stopped drinking when I was in high school, by the way. It was a great comment because it was true... and it is easy to see that Troy and I are just living out the family tradtion. More Troy than me, but you get the point.
The worst thing about the BBQ was that the Hank Williams Sr. CD wouldn't play for some reason. Anyway, a good time was had by all. I did a lot of other fun stuff this weekend, but I just wanted to give an update on the BBQ. So, Bubblegoose fans, prepare yourself for the next round. Troy says he is going to host these all summer. And of course, you'll be invited soon enough!
Horns up.
Thursday, April 14, 2005
Nebraska Sucks
In a court here locally, a jury acquitted a teenage boy from sexual assault charges. He had pinned down an underclassman teammate and stuck his finger into his butt. The whole event was painted as harmless horseplay and hazing. Fellow upperclassmen and coaches defended the boy, saying that it was just the sort of thing that goes on in locker rooms, and perhaps it had just got a little out of control.
The prosecutor was able to paint a picture that the boy had motivations beyond horseplay. He was homophobic, and was continually referring to the victim as "gay" (whether he was gay or not was never clarified, but it really doesn't matter). The boy is also facing 3rd degree assault charges in a separate case (because it has not been settled yet, it was not allowed as evidence).
The boy's lawyer was able to convince the jury that it was not assault or rape because...
a) there was clothing present between the finger and inside of the anus, so it couldn't technically be considered penetration
b) the victim only came forward because his ego was harmed, not because he honestly felt violated
Both defenses are non-defenses to me. But the jury bought it. And on National Day of Silence too.
I was once told by my employer that sexual harassment charges in the office work like this; sexual harassment is defined as whatever the victim says they consider harassment. We all have different sensibilities, and even a seemingly harmless joke could make someone uncomfortable. So, if the rules governing verbal assault are quite subjective, then why aren't the rules governing forced entry into your body?
The jury and the lawyer combined should be ashamed of themselves. The Midwest is a hostile place to live. There is a pattern of shared bigotry and an amazing lack of common sense. The air of homophobia and good-old-boy networking is enough to make a person sick. Yet, Nebraska is eternally selling itself as "the good life."
But, what do you expect from a state that defended the actions of football player Lawrence Phillips? As long as he was a good player, and helped the Huskers win and win again, he could do whatever he wanted. Good life? Efilnikcufecin, as Anthrax would say.
Horns up.
Wednesday, April 13, 2005
Eating Jesus
I am going to momentarily slip back into old-Bubblegoose vibe. That means I am going to talk about something other than girls and music for a change. You can prime yourself for my entry by reading my latest comic strip here. If you are uninterested in Christian churches (and I don’t blame you), just read the cartoon and call it a day. The rest is sort of meant for the choir, so to speak.
Do you go to church? If so, do you do communion at your church? How often? What is it like?
We Protestants love our Jesus Eatin’. We’ve let this issue be one of the major contentions leading to the infinite splintering of our churches. Who can take communion? How often? Does the bread literally become Christ’s flesh? When should it done during the service? How is it delivered? Real wine or grape juice? Unleavened bread is a whole loaf, or little prepared S&M Communion Bread brand communion nuggets?
It is a shame that the Protestant church is as divided as much as it is. It is a further shame that divisions come from such ridiculous sources. For a sect of churches that claim to “speak where the Bible speaks, silent where the Bible is silent,” there seems to be some blindness.
In most contemporary (and large) Protestant churches, we have switched to the use of tiny, Tic-Tac sized nuggets of communion bread. They are poured into a tray/plate and passed from parishioner to parishioner. Everyone touches only their piece (ideally) and the Host is passed around the flock in record time. The only thing that moves faster than the Host is the offering plate.
But using these nuggets has always upset me. It ruins the whole imagery of communion. I realize that large congregations sort of create new demands on practice, but even the communion meditations do little to throw light on the imagery of communion taking.
In our churches, the communion meditation is often given by a lay-member or a deacon/elder. Many use this time to sermonize. In my church, it seems as if the guys are auditioning for “holiest/smartest lay person” award; dropping poorly pronounced Greek words and outlandish (read: incredible in the true sense of being not-credible) illustrations. You wouldn’t believe the topics (and lengths) of some of the meditations I have heard. Week to week I cross my fingers, hoping that the guy (yes, only guys seem to be allowed to talk about the Lord’s Supper) just reads the scriptural account of Christ establishing the communion.
The point of the communion is to reaffirm that we are a part of one God. The imagery reminds us of His martyrdom, and therefore our redemption. But the real imagery is that we all receive these things from one unified source. My hand and your hand break pieces from the same loaf. There is an intimacy with sharing food. It brings a feeling of family, of kinship between strangers.
We all feed from the same body. This should be a message that heals division and doctrinal conflict. Instead, little illusion is ever made to this. In a case where church demands on serving time require Eucharist Chipper Minis (self reference, read the comic link above), the focus should be on reforming the meditation time. Make the guy stay on task. Make him talk about communion’s purpose and what the symbolism is. Maybe even visually break a prepared loaf so that the image is fresh in our minds.
The biggest threat to the internal validity of Protestant churches is our inherent attitude of rugged individualism. We left England. We split from the Catholic Church. We built America. We wrote the laws. Most of us refuse to establish hierarchies or creeds or mission statements. We split into so many independent churches and sub-denominations that every church is somewhat unique. We talk a lot about relativism and personal relationships with God. We talk about freedoms and rights and self-expression. Even our hymn books contain different songs, if we use hymn books at all.
All of this is deeply imbedded in the American experience, and it began with these religious separatists. And the ideas are passed down to each new generation. What we are ignoring is the corporate part of Christianity, and life in general. There is a certain amount of conformity and uniformity and self-denial that is integral to being a good Christian (actually, this extends beyond religious talk… there is a certain amount of conformity and uniformity and self-denial that is integral to being a good human).
We are called to look at ourselves as God’s children; all of us. It does the Kingdom no good to think of our churches in terms of services (early vs. late), church fellowships (Church of Christ vs. First Christian vs. Westside), denominations (Baptist vs. Presbyterian), locations (country church vs. Willow Creek), or any other dividing factor. When God looks at His church, he sees the Catholic, the early service attendee, the contemporary worship participant, the minister, the secretary, the deaf, the Hispanic, the child, and so on. To Him, all of “us” are from the same loaf. The only true individuality that is demanded from us is our accountability… and even this is somewhat out of our hands (we are told that we need the intervention of the blood of Christ to even stand a chance).
A God that has 40 billion individual covenants is not a Biblical God.
We are not individuals in Christianity. And the practice of using these Unleavened Chiclets only reinforces this awful individualism. The Protestant Church is heading in a poor direction as it is, and it needs to reform. It needs to reexamine why it is splintered, why we lack unity (even within one building), and what exactly our theology and mission is. A great place to start is with each Protestant church examining its practices and traditions. Traditions are not bad, but they do have meaning. And the tradition of the speed communion, coupled with the random lay-sermonette, is sending the wrong message.
If the church hopes to root itself in truth, and is sold on believing that the ultimate source of truth lies in the words of Christ, then we need to be better about honoring His words. Think about this the next time you take communion.
Horn’s Up
PS – The new Mindless Self Indulgence CD is awesome. There, now I am back to the new-Bubblegoose vibe again.
Monday, April 11, 2005
You gotta cut me Mick
The reason I like Tarick is because he was a man, in the archetype that all boxers should be men. He respected his opponent, took the decision with class, and didn't show any ridiculous 'roid-esque outbursts of crying or locker-room destruction. He was cool, calm, stayed in the fight mentally, landed a ton of shots when his arms were like anchors, and above all, hugged the young Juan after the fight was over.
Tarick and Juan both probably have the most heart on the show. Juan just turned 18 before the show's taping began. As a matter of fact, he looks younger. I half expected a scandal to pop up with He's lean, but doesn't look strong. Yet he hits fast and hard. He has so much desire for the sport than he moved to Mexico just so he could compete professionally. He lacks a ton of discipline and patience... he'll be great when he gets a few more years of competition under his belt.
Tarick's heart comes from the fact that he was once ranked in the top 10, and had a scheduled championship fight... until the champ backed out. He was so disheartened that all of his hard work built up to nothing, that he hung up his gloves, and settled down to be a family man. This show was his way of settling up with his heart; walking back into the ring, and hoping to see if this time he can earn his chance and dig down and make something of it.
Tarick was a man who not only was a great boxer who just missed out on his break during his prime, but a great man to boot. Its too bad he is off the show already. If you ever wonder why people like boxing, watch the fight from this week... it got a little sloppy towards the end, but it was as artful and as honorable as the sport gets.
But stock up on that warm, fuzzy feeling of seeing heart in the ring... next week it sounds like someone walks off the show... as in all sports, there are a lot of guys with no sack... I mean heart... that run when things aren't filling their perception of ideal situation.
NBC: Great stuff.
Horns up.
Saturday, April 09, 2005
Willie Gillis at the USO
I have this calendar hanging in my bathroom that I got free-of-charge from a disabled American veteran’s organization. Each month displays another in the long line of lame Norman Rockwell paintings. You know, the guy famous for his good-old-days paintings, as seen in the Saturday Evening Post and finer dentist's offices everywhere.
This month's picture is a goofy looking guy (ala Gomer Pyle) dressed in a soldier's uniform. He is seated with a plate of donuts and a cup of coffee, while two slim women are attending to him. The women are USO reps, and are making him visibly embarrassed and uncomfortable. The thing that I find interesting is that by looking at the picture, you immediately are in the understanding that the man is a dork, and the women are beautiful...
... but the women do not appear that beautiful. The one on the left looks like she is 50 and the other one just looks goofy. But this is a perfect display of how the image of beauty changes with time. It (beauty) is not only in the eye of the beholder, but is also subject to the dreaded "paradigm shift." (note: paradigms are the scientific/anthropological version of a fad)
Our concept of beauty changes constantly, and frankly, if you look back too far, it is hard to find a lot of women or men who look contemporarily beautiful. The ones that do have a special timeless quality that makes them unique anyway. One of my favorite pastimes in high school was to look through all of the old yearbooks in the archives. As the old joke from MST3K goes, they all look like they are long past being teenagers (my favorite use of this joke by Mike and the 'bots was during a movie where Mel Torme was supposedly a teenage rebel, and he looked at least in his mid 30's).
My friends and I were always quite surprised when we found a "hottie" in the pages of our school's past. Let's just say that I would expect that a women's college's student body back-in-the-day did not look like the cast of Mona Lisa Smile.
Even the Hollywood actresses from previous eras suffer from this. While it is apparent at first site that these ladies are beauties, they still seem to the modern eye a bit "off." And it is more than the hair and clothes... it is how they carry themselves, their body shape, and even facial features.
Three great places to look at past beauties are old James Bond movies (where the women seem angry, old, and more shapely than today's starlets), Hitchcock movies (where he cast timeless beauties, but those that are still hard to place an age on... Shirley MacLane looks 30 in her debut role), and the old British Hammer horror movies (perhaps more than the others, these actresses look incredibly hot, but do not look like anything walking about these days). Not to dog on the English, but if you look at the 70's sci-fi movies from the UK, you will often see a parade of women that lack even a hint of attractiveness; a far cry from the adult film stars that are used to fill roles in today's sci-fi trash.
I wonder why this is, that beauty would change with time? I wonder if Helen of Troy could launch any ships today? If Rene Zelwigger was actually able to go back to the 20's and be a flapper (ala Chicago), I wonder if she would be make the other women pale in comparison, or if she would seem an ugly duckling? Would Paris Hilton seem attractive to Sean Connery circa 1962? Would Marilyn Monroe even be able to get a TV show role in today's world?
So, if you look in the mirror and don't see George Clooney or Kirsten Dunst staring back at you, don't worry. Maybe your face and body were just meant for another time. Like all things, there is always hope for a paradigm shift. Or, as they say, every dog will have its day... good news for us dogs! (I am hoping for a shift to make men with receding hair, a spare tire, and no muscle tone at all to be the new standard for male beauty)
Horns up!
Friday, April 08, 2005
An Urgent Request To Both My Friends and Blog Surfers
Now on to the important request;
I want you all to send me pictures of yourself, holding a sign saying “hello Carl!” I am serious about this. My new Sony PSP (coolest gadget ever) can hold a photo album on its memory card. I wanted to fill it with pictures of my friends, but I thought that this would be a fun project to play with.
Even if you don’t know me send me a picture to unsung1974@yahoo.com. I don’t care where it is taken, what you are dressed like, or whatever as long as you are in it, and you are holding a picture that says something to the effect of hello to me (Carl) or to the Bubblegoose. Sound like fun? Start your creative engines going! Oh, and be sure to mention if you do or don’t wish for it to be posted on this site… I may post some of the more brilliant ones.
PLEASE DO THIS! I think it will be a great way to goof around this spring and summer, and give my PSP a nice little photo album.
And too my friends, especially consider doing this. I would love to have a chronicle of my friends. I have no pictures at all of most of my life’s experiences, and lately it has bothered me a little. I am resolving to carry my digital camera around with me more often so that I may take more pix and I can share them with all of you. You’ll probably be getting an email from me soon begging for this same thing, so heads up!
Anyway, send me a pic or two. If you have fun with it, keep sending them. You can be Carl’s equivalent to the roaming gnome! : ) I hope response to this is good!
Horns up!
Saturday, April 02, 2005
Jockin' Mike D To My Dismay
Let me wander away from the main point of this for a second... ever sit in church or school and start playing mind games with yourself? You start asking "if I was single, who in this room would make a good match for me?" Being a true "guy" my first instinct is to gather up all of the prettiest girls in view to fill my mental casting couch.
But then the logical part of my mind takes over. How many of these girls would even be interested in me? Do they have similar religious and political views? Would they hate things I love? What do they like to eat? What are their hobbies? Do they have a lot of girlfriends they'd rather hang out with on weekends, or will they be over-reliant on me for attention?
Anyway, you get the point. Now back to the main part of my blog; When Yuki asked about what my ultimate job was, I played same mind games. Which jobs pay the most? Which are the most fun? Which are in the best places? Which have the most prestige? Which help the most people? Which take the least work? And so on...
I was upset with myself that I did not conclude that pharmacy was not my ultimate job. I sort of had a bit of a character crisis. I mean, if it isn't what I truly want to do, why am I pursuing it? Am I doomed to be out soul searching again in 10 years, looking down the barrel of another career change? I hope not, because I don't have another life crisis in me. But shouldn't I be pursuing my dreams and make them happen? Or is it wise to follow a semi-impossible ideal to futility? (FYI, what I really want to do is write).
I bummed myself out. I sort of felt like a fraud, and I know well what that feels like (I went through the same ordeal when I was in the ministry, but on a much more serious level). But then I sort of had an "a-ha" moment...
You don't have to be in the possession of your ultimate job. It isn't a requirement for happiness. If X equals anything (job, mate, car, body, etc.), your ultimate X is often just a dream anyway, And how many of us ever have our dream anything? As a matter of fact, I had fallen into a trap that many people do... become depressed that I do not have my ultimate X. I had ignored the fact that so often in life we need to feel fortunate for what we do have, rather than be upset at what we do not.
A couple days ago I took a little heat for a tongue-in-cheek/smart assed look into springtime and girl watching. Which is fine, but people seemed to bristle that I would dare hint that I am not totally immersed in the greatness of my wife. My wife is a great person, but she is not my ultimate girl. Should I be married to her then? Of course, because I will never meet my ultimate girl. Should I leave her if I meet a girl closer to my ultimate X (making her my ex in favor of my X)? Of course not. And incidentally, I have met a girl closer to my X. Actually, I have met a few girls, all with certain traits that extend far higher on the chart, closer to my X values. But you know what? In all of them, other attributes fade further away from X also.
This goes much further than my semi-conscious ogling of a couple pretty, smart, funny girls that I am secretly into... That is to say, it has a further reaching implication than ridiculous male fantasizing. The same problems can be applied to jobs, religion, and family life. Maybe you have a child born who refuses to fulfill your desires. Maybe they are disabled or just naughty. Maybe your child ends up homosexual, or overly promiscuous. Maybe your child shuns your religion for another, or decides that religion is bunk altogether. What do you do? Live a life of constant disappointment and bitterness, or do you love the child for who they are and liberate yourself from forever asking "what if?"
One of my top 100 songs of all time is "Wish I never saw the sunshine" by Beth Orton. It has a lot to do with beating yourself up over "what if." Just listening to it makes me slip into the regretful frame of mind. Why didn't I do this? What if I could take that back? What if I had met her in a different situation? How did I gain 60 pounds in one semester? Should I have plastic surgery? Chasing your ultimate X's leads to rainy day melancholy every time. But why not just step back and look at what you have and finding some good aspects? Evaluate where you can make a few adjustments, but for the most part, be thankful for what you have.
This sort of question seems to derail a lot of people (and I should have known better than to fall into the trap). People get upset at their church because it isn't doing everything they wish it would. They get frustrated at their job because it isn't as stimulating as it should be. They leave their wives because they aren't as "perfect" as they had hoped. They even spend their lives changing themselves (hobbies, eating habits, musical tastes, political views, and so on) because they aren't feeling as good about life as they would ultimately like to. In many ways, the so-called "midlife crisis" many Americans experience is founded is this hopeless chasing of ultimate X's that will never materialize. The only people who seem to forever chase these X's are either "desperate" housewives, bald men with convertable sports cars, pretty young actresses having to do porno to pay rent in LA, and starving artists living in downtown studio apartments.
In the end, I decided that Pharmacy is a great fit for me. I researched it pretty well before I started to pursue it, so I am glad that I can come to this decision still. I love the scientific rigor, the calculations, and I even like dealing with the people. It is a healing job, a caring job, and, by the way, a job that pays very well. Being a pharmacist will allow me to not only have fulfillment in my career, but money to help my wife and I meet certain life goals that we have (like buying a home and having children). Shoot, I may even get to travel to Japan finally.
So in the end, no Pharmacy is not my ultimate job. Sandy is not my ultimate wife. 220 pounds is not my ultimate shape. My apartment is not my ultimate dwelling space. And my 1993 Saturn is not my ultimate car. But all of these things serve me well, and I am thankful that I have them. I am lucky for the opportunities and breaks that I have, and I shouldn't beat myself to death trying to obtain some elusive ideal X.
But this won't stop me from mentally auditioning possible ultimate Mrs. Smith candidates. (I mean that in the least creepy way possible... lol).
Horns up!