Mourn on the 4th of July

*ahem*

I know it seems redundant to stand on a soapbox on a blog. I get that. But I'm taking this one post to basically air out something that's been bugging me leading up to the Fourth.

We have nothing to celebrate.

Sure, today is the day we celebrate our Independence from Britain. Today, we celebrate the unanimous declaration of the thirteen United States of America,

"When in the Course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation."

We should be celebrating these words, we should be living these words. But today, I feel as the people of the United States, we should be mourning these words, because they do not live today. They have died in our society, they do not exist in our government, they have failed to hold true today.

Am I being facetious? Am I being defeatist? Am I just another armchair activist?

No, I'm sick. I'm sick of pretending things are okay. I'm sick of treading through the bullshit that gets spewed on us by a media who's hellbent on making us afraid of everyone and everything. I'm sick of being proud of a country that fails its people.

There is a social war, people. One that is expanding. You may not see it, you may not even know it exists. But it's there. It wages on the internet, it attacks on the media. There are skirmishes every time you step outside.

Who is being attacked? The Muslim who wants to go to his mosque, the young girl who takes control of her body, the woman who wishes equality, the black man who walks down the street, the immigrant who wants a better life; we, the people, are being attacked. And the fucked up thing? We are allowing it. We are letting it happen. We have allowed the small vocal minority of fucking idiots to spread lies and ignorance at every avenue available to them, and they have done so with much fervor and zeal that you almost have to applaud them for it if they wouldn't shoot you for the effort.

We have allowed companies to be recognized as people, we allow our children to be killed because the gun lobby pumps so much money into corrupt candidates that continue to allow these weapons to be readily available, we turn our backs on veterans that we ask to fight meaningless wars for us, we wage war with countries that we have no business to do so and allow countries that desperately need our help to suffer because they can't do anything for us.

We are in a sad state of affairs. We are losing this war on our humanity. Look into the eyes of a child, tell them that we have allowed others to butcher their future inheritance. That we leave them a world of fear, a world dying from pollution, a world that would judge them based on race, gender, or sex. Tell them the truth. Tell them we have failed!

For if nothing, let's be honest. We are bad Americans. We should be disgusted with ourselves for impeding the liberties that we so boorishly and brazenly claim to uphold. I want you to look in the mirror, take a breath and say, "We fucked up." Then, and only then, can we begin to heal. For in failure, in our err of being human; we can strive for forgiveness. But it must start with the truth, and to know the truth is to see the sickness within us, what we have allowed to happen.

And of course, without fail, you'll ask the question, the one question that stops most of us from trying to take a step in the right direction.

"What can I do?"

The answer is not nothing, though that is what most of us will do. The truth is, you can be aware, you can say it loud and proud. You can say the truth.

"I am a bad American! I have allowed bigotry, sexism, and hatred to grow around me! I have turned a blind eye when women have said that they feel that they are being attacked! I have made excuses for accepting misogyny in our culture! I have walked by as the little guy gets picked on! I have allowed the fear of other people to allow prejudices of people I know nothing about fester in my heart and in the hearts of others I know. I am a bad American, but I don't want to be!"

I can't tell you how to celebrate our day of Independence. That would negate the very day. But I ask you, any of you who read this. To take a moment, any moment today or any the day after. Accept that we're not as good as we think we are. And considering this is not how we would want to be treated, let's not treat others in the same fashion. You are a bad American, but you, me, we; can be better.

I leave you with the words of the fictional character of Howard Beale from the film "Network". It's only fitting.

"I don't have to tell you things are bad. Everybody knows things are bad. It's a depression. Everybody's out of work or scared of losing their job. The dollar buys a nickel's worth. Banks are going bust. Shopkeepers keep a gun under the counter. Punks are running wild in the street and there's nobody anywhere who seems to know what to do, and there's no end to it. We know the air is unfit to breathe and our food is unfit to eat, and we sit watching our TVs while some local newscaster tells us that today we had fifteen homicides and sixty-three violent crimes, as if that's the way it's supposed to be.We know things are bad — worse than bad. They're crazy. It's like everything everywhere is going crazy, so we don't go out anymore. We sit in the house, and slowly the world we are living in is getting smaller, and all we say is: 'Please, at least leave us alone in our living rooms. Let me have my toaster and my TV and my steel-belted radials and I won't say anything. Just leave us alone.'Well, I'm not gonna leave you alone. I want you to get MAD! I don't want you to protest. I don't want you to riot — I don't want you to write to your congressman, because I wouldn't know what to tell you to write. I don't know what to do about the depression and the inflation and the Russians and the crime in the street. All I know is that first you've got to get mad. [shouting]You've got to say: 'I'm a human being, god-dammit! My life has value!'So, I want you to get up now. I want all of you to get up out of your chairs. I want you to get up right now and go to the window. Open it, and stick your head out, and yell: I'M AS MAD AS HELL, AND I'M NOT GOING TO TAKE THIS ANYMORE!I want you to get up right now. Sit up. Go to your windows. Open them and stick your head out and yell - 'I'm as mad as hell and I'm not gonna take this anymore!' Things have got to change. But first, you've gotta get mad!...You've got to say, I'M AS MAD AS HELL, AND I'M NOT GOING TO TAKE THIS ANYMORE! Then we'll figure out what to do about the depression and the inflation and the oil crisis. But first, get up out of your chairs, open the window, stick your head out, and yell, and say it: I'M AS MAD AS HELL, AND I'M NOT GOING TO TAKE THIS ANYMORE!"

Fuck yeah!

Let's be better, by admitting we're far from it.

Why Godzilla Matters

"One often hears of writers that rise and swell with their subjects, though it may seem but an ordinary one. How, then, with me, writing of this Leviathan?" - Moby Dick, Herman Melville

"Give me a condor's quill!" Melville goes on to say. "Give me Vesuvius' crater for an inkstand!" He exclaims. "Friends, hold my arms!" He pleads. "For in the mere act of penning my thoughts of this Leviathan, they weary me, and make me faint with their outreaching comprehensiveness of sweep, as if to include the whole circles of the sciences, and all the generations of whales, and men, and mastodons, past, present, and to come, with all the revolving panoramas of empire on earth, and throughout the whole universe, not excluding its suburbs."

In 1954, a Japanese icon was born. Brought about as a cautionary tale of humanity's use of nuclear weapons. For the last sixty years, Godzilla and other daikaiju (giant strange creature) of his ilk have come and gone, but the morbid fascination with these characters remain. The mass destruction that comes in the wake of these monsters is like nothing else we have ever witnessed outside of a Roland Emmerich film, but unlike the films of Emmerich (I do not include his version of Godzilla because the film itself was a travesty of immeasurable proportions) these kaiju are not there for the sake of destruction. At least, that's not how they are now.

Originally, Godzilla was Japan's nightmare personified by a man in a suit. The bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki left a scar on Japan, one that became a metaphor as a giant monster who kills indiscriminately. One that had to be destroyed, and they did. But I don't think the filmmakers were prepared for what happened next. I don't think they were aware that by anthropomorphizing their monster, they were in fact creating a mirror. One that when humans stared at it, they saw a bit of themselves, and they were sca-roused (scare and aroused, my word I stole from Futurama).

Me Grimlock am a sentient robot who deserves better than this.

Now let's be honest, I'm just as much of a fan of Baysplosions (Michael Bay explosions, I'm sure I stole that one from Robot Chicken) as the next red-blooded American. From watching things go very fast and in a furious manner to watching someone completely misinterpret a Mayan prophecy; I love watching the spectacle of things that I would otherwise die if I came into contact with them. Godzilla stems from the same awe. But what makes him more than just a lean, mean, kinda green machine is his connection to nature. He comes out of the water, a creature brought about by the radiation of man, laying waste to the glory that we have built. There are times he protects us from the other monsters that seek to destroy us, and there are times we bear his full wrath. Regardless of the circumstance, no matter how well we weather the storm, at the end of the day, we're just along for the ride. Exactly how we're just along for the ride on this planet.

Godzilla is the cinematic version of Melville's white whale. Just as Ahab foolishly attempts to control nature, so to does man foolishly attempt to control Godzilla. And as much as the movies try to make Godzilla human friendly, he shines best when he is out of control and we have no idea if he will turn on us at any minute. This battle of man vs nature is an old one. One where man stubbornly tries to one-up nature at every turn. And for every milestone and wonder we think we achieve; a little shake, a little eruption, a little fire, and we are back to the stone age, if we're lucky.

So why does Godzilla matter? Why do we feel the need to tell a story of us getting figuratively spanked in our entertainment without the need for safe word? The answer is pretty simple. Cause we need to be reminded, constantly, that we are not better than anything else on this planet, we are all guests here to an uncontrollable host, a force of nature. And the moment we forget is usually the moment Godzilla will turn up.

I haven't seen the new Godzilla movie. I'm sure I will at some point in the near future. I miss seeing nature kick ass, even if it's ours.

2 weeks without social media. I was bored.

I now know kung-fu.

So I thought I'd take a month. I made it two weeks. I thought long and hard about whether or not I should go the extra two weeks, but I realized I learned all I was going to learn from being off for two weeks. Now, I was just punishing myself for no good reason.

So what did I learn? I learned that if I really wanted to, I could disconnect. There was the initial withdrawal.

And then there was the silence.

The utter silence I had in my head from not having everyone else's thoughts coming across my screen. I realized I had to work harder to get information, I had to go to more websites and read more articles just to get the gist of a story that Twitter could cover in a short blurb.

I learned that I missed my friends, acquaintances, and people of interest that I am accustomed to seeing on a daily. I learned that the people I call friends are mostly on a virtual space, which I'm not altogether sure if that's sad or not. That was after a week.

And then there was the silence.

I learned that being a spectator of the internet was not enough for me. I wanted to be involved. I missed putting up pictures on Instagram, I missed tweeting a joke I thought was funny, I missed asking a silly question and getting a sillier answer. I learned I don't want to disconnect.

I want to be a part of this world in the way I know how. I emphasize "this" because this world is a different world than the one from ten years ago. This world exists in 1's and 0's, and I enjoy it even with all the shit that comes along with it. It's easy to be disgusted with the internet, but like all things linked to humanity; the small amount of good that comes from people online using the net to scour satellite photos for a plane that has gone missing outweighs the disgusting nature of the comment section of any news feed.

And then there was the silence.

I am Hugh(ge) fan of tweeting!

Like Hugh being separated from the Borg, I was alone with my thoughts for the first time in about seven years. There were moments I enjoyed it and there were moments where I missed it. And when both those moments passed, I was just bored (not Borged).

After that first week I had no new revelations, no new sensations other than I'm just doing this thing now just to do it. All of a sudden I was wondering if I should come back early, and if I did, would it be defeating the purpose of this experiment. But more to the point, will people consider it me giving up?

And then there was the silence.

It dawned on me. No one gives a fuck if I come back early, cause no one gave a fuck when I left. There's no penalty for taking a sleeping pill and trying to masturbate while on it. And that's all this really was, a self-masturbatory experiment.

Only thing I see now is whether I cut this experiment short or if I succeed in the full month to masturbate on the sleeping pill, I'm just going to wake up sticky and a little bit of shame.

And then there'd be silence.

So I'm back. And to be honest, I learned what I always knew. It's a double-edged sword, this internet thing.

Have fun with it, but also, turn off your tech, for an hour. Go outside. Look at the sky. Close your eyes. And in the words of Depeche Mode.

Enjoy the silence.

A month with no social media.

I have decided to do an experiment. I've decided to go a month with no social media. This is by no means some kind of statement. I just wanted to try it.

My reasons?

I was watching a documentary and saw a young boy in the Congo who jumped into the fast moving rapids to be swept away downstream to catch a net made of branches and basically fish there the whole day just to eat. I thought about how this kid would probably never touch a computer. And as that thought crossed my mind I felt a little dirty, for lack of a more apt word.

As I continued to think, I wondered if I could disconnect? Not from my computer or the internet, because one, I need it to work, and two, I'm not going to the library. But from social media.

When Facebook came out, I made an account and let it rot after I realized how much I hated the idea. I left it. Once my wife (then girlfriend) hopped on Twitter around 2007 I came to learn that I was missing out on so much conversations that she was having with our shared friends that I ended up being dragged, reluctantly, to Twitter. And I got hooked. I blog (obviously) and Twitter felt like a mini blog that I get to read from the folks I enjoy to read about. It was genius. I could do without my Facebook (seriously, I have a sad FB video "A Look Back"), but I stayed because that became the only way I could see pics of my friends' kids who were now to busy to hang out, because, you know, kids!

So with social media being only relevant to me for the last six years or so, I was curious if I could just disconnect from it. I'm not a kid whose life started with social media so as an older guy, can I just stop? I like to think I can. And I'd like to see how I react to not reading FB, Twitter, Instagram, Vine, etc.

So here are my rules. No message boards, no Twitter, no Facebook. I'll read my news, I'll email, I'll respond to direct messages, I'll blog, but no socializing.

I'll do this for the entire month of March. Not that I'll be missed, social media is a wave of information, you'll never hear the drop of water that is my social media footprint amongst the torrent of tweets and status updates. This is more for me. And to see how I fair.

Catch you guys on the flip side.

DC vs. Marvel: The Battle of Gods

In 1948, a man addressed a science fiction convention and said the following,

"Writing for a penny a word is ridiculous. If a man really wants to make a million dollars, the best way would be to start his own religion."

Two years later, that pulp fiction writer wrote a book called "Dianetics" and thus, a religion was born.

If you don't know about Scientology the cult believes that 75 million years ago Xenu (an alien ruler of a "galactic confederacy") brought billions of people to Earth in spacecraft resembling Douglas DC-8 airliners, stacked them around volcanoes and detonated hydrogen bombs in the volcanoes. The thetans then clustered together, stuck to the bodies of the living, and continue to do so today, but you should really watch South Park's 9th season episode to get the full idea.

Funny, right? Ludicrous, ridiculous, and downright unbelievable. However, no more unbelievable than every other religion out there. All brought about by someone or a group of someones exploiting people's fears, wishes, or passions. So in a hundred years, five hundred years, maybe even a thousand years from now; who will the be the titans that we pray to?

Choose your deity.

Every god is birthed from a story. Comic book characters are the perfect choice for the next generation's deities. Think about it, they exist in the world we live in, but then again, not of this world. Every hero has their story that makes them great, they each have their cross to bear, and sacrifice themselves over and over just to come back and do it again. All for the love of us. It's just a matter of time before humans start anthropomorphizing them. But just as the Romans had Jupiter and the Greeks had Zeus, can the deities of the future coexist, or will a particular type of gods reign supreme?





Let's take DC, first. The characters in Detective Comics are by far the easiest to deify.

The Trinity.

They are gods, in every sense. They reside in the Watchtower, overlooking Earth. They have powers beyond any mortal man, and yet live among humans to love, to hurt, and to struggle with the same issues we suffer through. But when they are in their suits, when they don their cape, or cowl, or power ring, they are super. DC (whether intentionally or unintentionally) created gods. They are iconic even at their worst. Superman is clearly Zeus, Wonder Woman is quite literally the god of war (seriously, go read Wonder Woman), and Batman is Hades.

So how do we relate to them? For gods must be relatable, even the omnipotent one that is the crowd favorite today has his moments of mercy, rage, and compassion depending on which book you're reading about him. As a kid, I was all about Superman. Hell, I'm still all about Superman. From the two front teeth I lost as a kid jumping off a chair (thinking I can fly), to the Superboy vinyl toy I just bought; Superman is the epitome of all that is good in humanity. He never kills (don't you dare mention "Man of Steel" in my presence), he would rather sacrifice himself than to lose a life. And despite what some people might think about his alter ego, Clark Kent, he is not a bumbling, geeky guy in glasses. That's not how he sees humanity. Clark Kent is a good man. There have been so many times in the comics (and in real life) where folks wonder why Superman just doesn't do away with Clark Kent and just be Superman the whole time? What people don't realize is that Clark Kent is who Superman looks up to. Clark is his deity, the idea of what a good person can be.

That was my god. And in some strange way, it's still the deity I look up to. Not one I pray to, but he's my "What Would Superman Do?"

So with DC clearly having gods in their court, how could Marvel compete? Well, if Superman is God, then Captain America is Jesus Christ.

The guy next to Cap is a god!

Marvel Comics has their super heroes. They even have comics about actual gods. But their characters do one thing better than DC does. Marvel makes humanity super. In the 616 (look it up), here be demigods.

Even the gods wept that day.

Like Hercules, Achilles, or Perseus; Spider-Man, Captain America, and The Hulk are humans gifted with the power of the gods. These characters are not worshipped, they are thanked. They live in our world. They suffer through the same turmoils that we do. Spider-Man goes home to his aunt after a day of being Spidey. Captain America lives in Brooklyn. The X-Men go to school!

But when they are super, they take their human frailties and use them to make themselves be better. Tony Stark's alcoholism, Bruce Banner's rage, Wolverine's Canadianism (I'm obviously kidding. Being Canadian is not a super power), or rather his mutation. This isn't their kryptonite, this is the burdens they overcome, the same ones we do.
Do I think we'll worship comic book characters in the future? Who's to say. Time will tell on that one. Hell, we might end up worshiping musicians for all I know.

More popular than Jesus, at least on iTunes.

You might think this all lunacy, that comics are the last bastion of theology that humanity would ever pull from. And you might be right, though, as I mentioned at the beginning of this blog, there are a group of people who believe in an alien ruler that is responsible for them feeling bad, that a sci-fi writer pulled out of his ass.


And at the end of the day, is it really that bad? Personally I think (and know) we can do much worse. I wear a Batman shirt because I can identify with the character. I look at the super heroes in comics as ideals, because honestly, the real heroes of today are in short supply. Also, as far as I know, no one has killed in the name of The Flash. But in a thousand years from now, that too might change. Or as the title of this blogpost suggests, factions of super hero believers will fight for their gods as most do now.

Still, I see it as an upgrade. The stories of today's super heroes are far better recorded than the "super heroes" of yester-millenias. I'm hoping humanity will understand that these characters are not real, but rather they are fictional stories. I may be giving us too much credit on that one.

Regardless, I'd be happy to have us let go of this.

Ick! This? (Think about it)

For something a little more super.

Stands for hope, where he's from.

2013 is dead. Long live 2014 (at least for a year).

I bet you the pyrotechnic guy started the fire. Just saying.

Well. What can I say? I started this year in San Francisco. In one hour, I am officially ending it in Canberra. That's Australia for those who can't be blamed for knowing.

Oh? Also? I'm married.

I could do a whole Joel song about the ins and outs of this year. About all the things that I went through to get here, about the struggle of six years to be with my wife. About the struggles of a writer trying to get a writing gig. I mean, how many awards did my screenplay have to win in order for it to get picked up (it won three, by the by)?
Truth is, this year has been a blur, pretty much like all years. There were ups, there were downs. There were those parts in-between that lagged forever.

At the end of the day you survived, humanity. By the skin of your teeth, but you hung in there. I was right there with you. I hope that we do better in every sense this year for the next.

We should be humble in our approach to what comes next. Tempered with humility for all of our faults from this year and the year before. And yes, smile, for the wonders that we achieved, even if it was giving someone a nod on the street to wish them a good day.

There are stories, movies, TV reality show endings, where people talk about new beginnings. One chapter ends another begins.

This past month. I moved to Australia.

I got married.

I was surrounded by a rainbow.

And today, I played with my beautiful niece.

I am the living embodiment of all good things to those who wait.

I welcome this new year and the new life I have. Best part about it? It's the first time I don't face it alone.

With five minutes to midnight, I wish you all a truly happy new year.

An open letter to Kevin Smith

Hey Kevin,

I thought long and hard about writing this. I wondered what would be the point, it is more than likely going to get lost in the hullabaloo that is Twitter. But you said some words today that I felt I couldn't let slide lest it make less of the men we claim to be.

Over three years ago, you asked me to be moderator on your new message board. It was something completely unexpected. I mean, who the hell am I? I was just a fan of you. There were folks on your message board who were there longer, who have been to more events than I have, whose fingers were on the pulse of all things ViewAskew. At that time, I met you a total of once at WonderCon, and by "met" I mean you signed something for me and you were gracious enough to take a pic with me.

You said to me,

"I'll bring it back if YOU moderate it, sir. All you gotta do is keep the rape porn out of my backyard."

That was the first and last time we ever had a conversation about the board. We met several times after that, but we never talked about the board. I assumed that I was doing the job you wanted me to, but for every call I made, for every person I had to block or ban off your board, I always questioned whether or not this is what you would do. I had very little to go on as far as how you wanted me to maintain order. I took the "95 Thesis" that you wrote and ran with it. Some questioned whether or not that was the call, others felt that their "freedom of blah blah blah" was being impeded, and of course there were those who used the "But Kevin wrote..." defense. By this point you moved on to Twitter, the board was left to the fans and of course your wife to socialize in. The thing is, Kevin, your absence was noticed.

Flash forward a ridiculous amount of drama and in-fighting that is the norm of all message boards. To summarize, your wife's thread became the most active thread on the new board. To most, this meant that Jen was in charge, to a few very loud and ignorant personalities, this rubbed them the wrong way. But to all, I made sure that misogyny was not tolerated.

Then TellEmSteveDave 96 happened. To sum up, women were objectified and then dismissed as nothing more than a pair of tits.

To the credit of some of the guys, they apologized. The worst offender (Bryan Johnson), however, never did.

Your fans (obviously I don't speak for all of them, but it's fair to say that most of the message board felt this way) were left confused and took to looking for a way to respond.

It was Jen who answered them.

And lodge they did, at Bryan. On the board. Both men and women. And I felt it apt.

About a month went by, Comic Book Men came on TV. As all things, it was discussed on the board. Bryan was called out for picking on Ming and still pretty much for what he said about women.

Someone hipped Bryan to the page of the board where he was being discussed. He quickly banned two people, (one of which made fun of his beard), on the grounds that they broke the rules.

What Bryan did not know was that the discussion he was jumping into at the beginning of the thread was in response to what he said on TESD. Many people from the board tried to express this to Bryan on Twitter. He wasn't having any of it. And as you know, in a more public forum, all hell has a tendency of breaking loose.

Today (well, yesterday, I'm in Australia) you said,

"If my movies have made you feel it’s okay to reduce another human being by labeling them a “bitch” or a “cunt”, then I was an even worse filmmaker than I thought."

 Let me say something here, I don't think you're a bad guy. In fact, you're one of the nicest people I ever had the pleasure to meet. But someone as open as you are, you are going to attract some unsavories.

Most of them came to Bryan's defense in the way that unsavories do.

Bryan went on to blame the women of the board.

And when those women tried to reason with him and tell him that he's retweeting some really misogynistic people, he decided to call my wife a "skank".

During this time, I was messaging Bryan, telling him that we needed to talk, that he's getting part of a story and that he needs to understand what's going on. I gave him my number, first he said he'd call me, then he said he would not.

I told Jen (my only contact for anything) that Bryan was in the wrong, that we should shut the board down cause the guy is not listening to reason and it's only going to get worse.

She got the board to shutdown.

And it has stayed down, without a word from you to the fans.

At the end of the day, some fingers pointed to me.

Or to my wife, or the women of the board in general. And with your silence, there was no one to contradict them.

I kept quiet as well. Not sure if I was waiting for you to say something, but mainly, I decided to leave the ball in your court. It's a message board after all. There's a whole internet out there.

I'd be lying if I didn't say that I wasn't a little hurt by just being cut off without so much as a "thanks for all the fish". One could even argue that I am writing this letter to make this about me, or that I'm trying to get attention by putting you on blast. But this isn't about me. In fact, you know, that to this day, I have never said a negative thing about you.

This isn't about me, this is about what you said today.

"I will always apologize for any man who makes misogyny the manner with which he communicates his feelings. A woman-hater is just a woman-beater in waiting. If you wanna argue with words on my behalf (or EVER, for that matter), NEVER REDUCE/CURSE/HUMILIATE/HATE/DISMISS WOMEN IN THE PROCESS. I wouldn’t let you do it in front of me; I’m not gonna let you do it on my behalf in cyberspace."

Kevin, I'm holding you to this. There's a community that you left to the wayside that deserves an apology for the misogynistic comments made by your friend, Bryan Johnson. He did it in on your podcast network, he did it again to the members of your message board, he did it on Twitter using the Twitter handle that represents a podcast on your network.  The women he belittled on TESD deserve an apology, the women of the ViewAskew message board deserve an apology.

And I seriously doubt they will ever get one from Bryan.

Here at the end of this letter, I again question whether or not to send it. Or why even bother.

I guess I bother because I like you as a person, always have. I met my wife on your board, I am still friends with people I never met in person because of you. I am grateful to the kindness your wife showed me, and I was honored when you trusted me enough to try to do the right thing by you.

I volunteered to be your mod, and you technically never dismissed me as the moderator of the ViewAskew board, so I guess as a last gesture of trying to do the right thing for the board.

Kev, do the right thing.

#VA4Life

"Oh X-Mass Tree"

"Oh X-Mass Tree"

The dusk pulls its warmth from cold shivering trees,

The poor dears try to hold on as they stretch out their leaves.

For they know that when the sun fades on this cold winter night,

Florescent torches will fill their timbers with the iciest fright.

They come with the smell of their ancestors burned,

They come with the laughter of sap-thirsty children who yearn.

Not for the whisper of winds singing gently through the pine,

Not to get lost between memories that vein deep like a mine.

With a gargle of metal, blades, and a combustion of smoke,

The trees go down, one by one, not standing with hope.

They are tied, bleeding and raw, to the roofs of tin cars,

They are bought and sold, no longer graced under stars.

Forced into houses, whored with tinsel and light,

All to be glamorized for one Holiday night.

And as the night passes, as they are put out to pasture,

They choke on their last breaths, those poor prickly bastards.

But hey, at least they got that one awesome Christmas story,

And screw centuries of living, when you were some kid’s morning glory.

I left my heart...

Fire sometimes pretty.

So you may not have noticed, or rather the ether that I type into might not care, but I have moved to Australia.

Not visit, not vacationing, but I have moved to Australia with my soon-to-be wife.

For most (mainly family) this came as a shock even though I have been telling them for a year that I was leaving. I just don't think anyone thought it was real. In fact, I think they think it's still not real, that I'm not there like I have been for the past thirty seven years.

I have come to be with my wife, I tried to get a career started in the States, but to no avail. My wife, who has been my biggest supporter in life and in work, has waited patiently for me to see if I can get something/anything in my field. It was time for me to be with her. I have been with her for six years, and that's six years too long not being able to turn to her every morning, to feel her feet tucked under my leg as we sit on the couch, to hold her in my arms for no other reason than I passed her in the kitchen. So when people ask me how I'm able to just up and leave the world I've known for so long, I tell them quite frankly, "It was easy, cause of her."

But to be clear, that doesn't mean it was a choice with no weight. I have loved every aspect of San Francisco, of all the places from around the world I have visited, there is no place like it.

And I'm not talking about the bridge everyone knows, the cable cars that people think we ride all the time, or the street that is really gay (and if you've never been, you should see it, it's quite happy).

No, what I love about that town is the people. The guy who works at McDonald's on Bayshore who remembers what you ordered last month you were there, the old couple who needed a ride to the bus stop to catch a bus going to the casinos, the homeless guy who offered me change when I needed one for the meter, the guy who gives my grandmother bags of free fruit just cause he can.

A city is made of the folks who truly live there, not in the buildings they reside in. I love that town. I will always love that town.

But I'm not married to that town. And as much as I'll miss it, I left my heart with my wife.

And between one of the greatest towns in the world, and the most amazing woman on Earth, that town stands no chance.

I'll miss you SF, I'll miss you my family, I'll miss you my friends. High on a hill, you all call to me.

But at the end of the day, I left my heart somewhere between a didgeridoo and that ridiculously enormous spider that is about to steal my comp...

So I'm traveling in a fried-combie...

I was watching TV today, Community was on Comedy Central, and at 12:36pm, I got this message.

Mr Alvarenga

I am pleased to inform you that your application for a Migration visa to Australia was finalised today.

I had to reread it again, I had to make sure that it meant what it was trying to say.



Six years ago, I asked Ruth to marry me.



In three weeks, I'll be with her forever.



We overcame ocean, time, internet, continental drift, a government shutdown, lack of me having any income, and phone bills (I have paid $150 minimum a month to call her, sh, don't tell her).

We had worse odds than these two.

There's this saying in Spanish, "Amor de lejos, felices los cuatro". Which translates to, "With long distance love, the four are happy".  Meaning that when a couple are apart, they are both happy with the folks they're cheating on.



I fucking hate that saying.



Truth is, nothing worth it is ever easy.  WE WERE ON THE OTHER SIDES OF THE FREAKING PLANET! You couldn't get any further until you started getting closer.



I say to anyone in a relationship this tough. Ask yourself if it's worth it, if it is? Don't let anything or anyone stop you from the person you love.



I have twenty-five days left in San Francisco, I counted down day one by going to a taco truck I really liked (you can't get a good taco in Australia unless I make it). It was a damn good taco. Gonna miss this town that I have spent the last thirty-seven years in, and I'm going to make sure I savor every last moment (I should probably head to Alcatraz, finally).



In the meantime, I'm going to get on Grand Theft Auto V and start practicing driving on the wrong side of the road, and I'll have this on repeat on the radio.

Anniversary Overcoming Adversity

Six years ago, today. Ruth and I ventured into something that most people couldn't and still cannot fathom. We decided to try to make a relationship from opposite ends of the Earth work. And without hesitation, without a second thought, we both jumped in. Because the month or so prior to that, we quickly learned that doing so was way worth it.

In that time, we took to many methods of keeping in touch. The phone was our first method. That was expensive. Email was our goto when we couldn't be tied to the phone. Yahoo messenger quickly became our method of staying in touch when the phone was getting pricey. We kept on it for years. Eventually we adopted Skype, and to this day, it is our method of keeping in touch. I still call her on the phone and we love our iMessaging and Facetiming, but at the end of the day, Skype is just so much easier.

But in the past six years, there has been one thing that hasn't changed at all. My Sennheiser headset. These bad boys are clear and the noise cancellation is so choice, if you ever have the need to talk for hours on end on a headset, I'd recommend these in a heartbeat.

I've gone through two pairs in the last six years. Not bad for a $50 headset. And they continue to work just fine, the wire is pretty long and the volume rocker is a nice touch. All in all, I hate this sweet little piece of technology.

I hate it, cause every day, it's a reminder that the one I love is not next to me. I hate the fact that I have to turn her up because the mic went low. I hate that every night I have to hang up on her and there's that moment of lag right before it hangs up. I hate the feeling of taking off the headset every night, as it tussles my hair, as I drop it next to my chair, knowing that that's where it's going to be the next day, waiting for me to get back on Skype with the person that I never want to hang up on. With the woman that I never want to say goodnight to unless she's sleeping next to me. With my wife from across the world.

I blow kisses to her on the mic, every so often. She does the same to me. When she gets up to go to the bathroom, or kitchen, or whatever, and I have the headset still on, I blow kisses into the mic. My brain has linked the headset to an approximation with her, and so when it is on, it thinks that she's there even if she's not.

I appreciate and enjoy the tech that has allowed me to fool my brain into thinking that Ruth is with me.

But it has been six years, we are getting married as soon as our application goes through (fingers crossed sooner not later). And I cannot wait until I never have to rely on tech to talk, to see, or to anything the woman that I dreamt to hold, six years ago today.

Exploring The "Nigger" Mentality

If you're automatic reaction to the title above was thinking this post had to deal with the way Black people think; then you're not only way off-base, but you're pretty racist. Rather, this post is about you; or more to the point, this post is sadly about how the majority of this country perceives Black people.

"Party on, Garth!" "Not so much, Wayne"

Let's get on the not-so-way-back mobile
to 2005. Days after Katrina. Mike Meyers and Kanye West on the television. West says something that shocked a lot of people. Let me rephrase. West said something that was no fucking surprise to most Black people in America but flabbergasted people who have never heard it outloud before. "George Bush doesn't care about Black people". It was nothing new. Society has dismissed the sentiment for so long. The L.A. riots were in the 90's, the Black Panthers, the Civil Rights movement, all seem like a memory of a time people don't like to bring up. And besides, things are better now, right? I mean, Black people have taken the word "nigger" and made it their own! And Black comedians make us laugh, and hell, even White rappers are saying it! Hooray and Huzzah! We have grown as a culture! There's a Black President! You're welcome and America is not racist anymore!

Racist complacency has long set into the mind of America. A disgusting and bigoted perception that has plagued this nation from its inception. A Black man is treated differently because he's Black. This is an inarguable and truly sad fact that spawns across all cultures. White people assume that because Black people use the word "nigger" (which they don't, but I'll get into that later) that it's fair game. This permeates across our media and entertainment. Play Call of Duty, listen to your teenage kid spew some of the most racist shit you can possibly imagine just because he thinks it's funny, and because of the anonimity of the internet, he can get away with it. Latin cultures use term "negrito" (rough translation "little black one") as a term of endearment, but underneath the layer of "d'aww, you're so cute" stems the reality of, "d'aww why are you so dark?" In Asian cultures, mothers have scraped, scrubbed, and bleached the skins of their daughters to quite literally try to take the black off them.

This is the "Nigger" mentality. The notion that being black is somehow inherently a bad thing. That being black means you're uneducated, aggressive, and overall "less" of a human than everyone else.

But why call it the "Nigger" mentality? Why use a term that is probably the most offensive and cringe inducing word in the English language? Call it something else, you might say. That the only reason I'm using it is for shock value, you might say. Truth is, I find it apt. I find the most hateful and disgusting word in our language a perfect description for the horrid outlook people have against Black people. And it is cringe worthy, we should all cringe that this state of mind not only exists, but revels in our culture.

Racism is nothing new. Every culture has experienced it. But Black people get the honor of not only being at the exact opposite end of the color spectrum, they are also the oldest culture on the planet. Flash foward several thousand millenia, as humans moved away from the Fertile Crescent, their skin pigments changed. Not the case in Africa. A people who thrived and flourised in the original environment. One can only imagine the thoughts that a White person who returned to that mecca may have had, but I bet it went something like, "Dear God, these savages live in this heat? Look at them living in harmony with the land around them. Do they not know they can do more? Obviously they are inferior to me, they don't even believe in God! Well, say what you will about them, they seem to have strong backs."

"Ooh, this racism is killing me, inside."

Dave Chappelle did a sketch on his show a couple of years ago, where there was a White family with the last name, "Niggar".

In it, Dave explores, through comedy, how society would act with an upper class family so closely named after an offensive word. He removed the ethnic aspect of the word and all of a sudden, it became okay.

Later in the season, Dave addresses the fact that after he did the show, a couple of White kids saw Dave and quoted him the line he delivered in the sketch, "What's up, Nigga!"

Like those kids, society missed the point. African Americans in this country, through insurmountable odds, strived to overcome racial bigotry. They took a word that was used against them and adopted it as a colloquial greeting between themselves. The intent was never to make it okay for the rest of the world to start using it, but rather to lessen a blow, or rather blows, that Black people in this country suffer with on a daily basis. And it was a means of education, as well. Society never seemed to understand through verbal communication and through history that the way it treats minorities is really fucking wrong. So through media and entertainment, Black people tried to get through to the world.

Television brought us shows like "Sanford and Son", "What's Happening!!", "The Jeffersons", and "Good Times" to the living rooms of America. Shows that showcased lower class families ("The Jeffersons" being the exception, they were more middle class), and introducing America to Black families that were just trying to make it like everyone else.

"The Cosby Show" went one step beyond to show that African Americans can excel, given equal opportunity, the show did well. And America accepted Black people, as entertainers only.

In the 80's and 90's music was used as a means to communicate their plight. Groups like N.W.A and Public Enemy were pissed, and rightly so. Trying to bring to the limelight how America treats the Black community.

Again, America missed the lesson, all they got from it was some misconception that nigger (not nigga) was okay to use.

Have things changed? Yes they have. America has no shame now to treat and call a Black person a nigger to their face. Even in the media.

A Black man in silhouette on his own poster.

"Django" had an African American as a protagonist who ends up killing a bunch of overtly racist White people.

It was so over-the-top with prejudice that it made you wish death on every White person in that movie, minus the one White guy who had to help and teach the Black guy how to do it, cause god forbid he do it on his own.

And he needed that nice White man too, cause otherwise he'd be just another one of those "niggers" (Django calls, without hesitation, other slaves, "niggers") that he leaves to their own accord. Because a Black man can't teach other Black men to kill White men, that would be wrong.

We have an African American as President of the United States. And I swear, the media has called him Obama, not President Obama more than any other president before (I may be wrong on this, but I am willing to bet on it). Maybe it's too long to say President Obama, maybe I'm being oversensitive about how cavalier I see the Republican Party and a bunch of Democrats treat the President. But why does it feel that every time I hear them say "Obama" I hear, under their breaths, "that nigger"?

Trayvon Martin was recently murdered because he was Black. Jordan Davis was killed in his car after an argument. Both cases invoking the "stand your ground" law. Marissa Alexander was given a 20 year jail sentence for firing a warning shot in the air to scare off a man known for assaulting, she tried to use the same law, it didn't work for some reason in her case.

Have things changed? Can things change?

I have hope. But for now, it sickens me to no end, that our country continues to accept and act (maybe without realizing it, or realizing it but unwilling to do anything about it unless it directly affects them) like Black people are less than everyone else.

Get Off All The Lawns!

Dreamt we had better clothes.

It was 1989, it was the first time I recall hearing it. The two Coreys were walking across Jason Robards' lawn in "Dream A Little Dream" and he yells at them to "Stay off the grass!"

Apparently, it was a bad thing, too much treading on the grass would kill the grass, and this man took pride in his lawn. I always thought it was kind of silly, it's grass. It grows back, right? There was obviously a lot I didn't know about gardening, but I was missing the point. Staying off someone's lawn became a euphemism for old folks yelling at kids. The thing is, it didn't favor the ones saying it, it was the younger generation mocking the older one. They turned it on them, and ridiculed them for saying it. It means, "Hey old man, you're no longer with it, cause you're old and are disconnected with what the 'cool' people are into!" But old people had one last weapon in their arsenal. One that the younger generation had no defense for other than their ignorance.

"Kids these days.."

And no matter how you ended that statement, it was true. Whatever you have to say about "kids these days" it's more than likely true. "Kids these days listen to crap!" "Kids these days wouldn't know a good game if it came up and slapped them across the face with a joystick!" "Kids these days have shit cartoons!" All true. Our generation had the coolest stuff ever! But we forget one very important aspect about us when we were their age. Our old folks were saying the same thing about us. And guess what? It was true!

Now this paradox might not be a surprise to some of you, and the younger generation might consider this as some kind of vindication for them and "woot" it up, as no one says.

Hey, look! A blog reader! That's an endangered species!

Truth is, your ridicule is well deserved. Not just because you're young, but because it keeps  you grounded. Your youth leads you to believe you know everything. Don't act like you don't or pretend otherwise; it's true. You take the advice of your elders with a huge grain of rock candy and dismiss it as blathering fodder of a generation that no longer has any connection with what's happening in the world.

A world that they built, a world that they setup for you, and that you have the audacity to claim it for yourself with little to no care or caution of what lies ahead. And we can't hit you, cause hitting someone for being stupid is pretty stupid. So we do the next best thing. We make fun. What better way to get under your skin than to mock the utter bullshit that you cling onto as the new mecca of what's to come.

And bullshit it is, kids. As it was bullshit in my time, it's bullshit in your time too. You have the worst taste in clothes, you have no regard for tech, your music comes from regurgitated nonsense that was created on a computer, run through a filter, and rhythmically setup to fuck you in your head to the point you become numb to it and just take it as music. And your movies?

THAT'S A FUCKING VAMPIRE!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

Is this your fault? Not one bit. In fact. this is actually the fault of the generations before you. See, as much as there are those who try to steer you toward the good stuff, there are way more assholes out there that would prefer to profit on your ignorance, cause ignorance is not only bliss but it's really easy to bundle up in something shiny, put a couple of sparkles on it, and proclaim, "I am one of you! We're different, but that makes us better! Buy my shit!"

Blissfully Ignorant.

How do we combat this? Tough love. Sure, we could try to coddle you, but what fun would that be? Besides, that's what your parents are for, we are not they. We're just here to get you off our lawns.

We're not this bad.

But are we all noble hearted do-gooders just looking out for you? Of course not. Yes, our curmudgeonry stems from a place where we see what you do and are confounded by why the hell you would do or like that shit, when there's so much better shit out there. But it also comes from a place of fear. No one likes the world around them to tilt toward the unknown. It's cold and we're pretty sure there are wolves after us.

I will hate dubstep music, you can go ahead and play the one or two songs that are decent but I'll always consider the genre nothing more than what it must sound like when Transformers masturbate.

I will continue to believe that there's no difference between Fun., Deathcab For Cutie, The Format, and Vampire Weekend (If this is dated and none of those indie pop bands are around, then consider yourself fortunate).

But for every piece of shit rap song that gets airplay nowadays, there's an Eminem. Cream does rise, talent does shine. And I know this is two years in advanced, but I'm pretty sure the new Star Wars films will surpass the Original Trilogy (fanboys really need to get over it). Change is a multi-edged D&D die. With every roll, you will eventually hit that +Awesome roll that lets you win the game (there's no such roll, I'm stating this so no one else does). In the meantime, we have to dodge the heaping piles of dung that is being catered to you and that for the life of us, we can't understand why you're asking for seconds.

Just know we'll mock you for it, as we were mocked for ours. For your good, for our good, for the good to come when your child laughs at you when you can't figure out how to put on your self-lacing shoes. Just do us a favor, stay off the lawn while you're do it? It's the reason why we built the fucking path!