from the Chattanooga Outlook
It's hard to find a car on the road that doesn't have at least one bumper sticker on it. I have several on mine. One time, a girl even left a love letter on my car simply because she thought I might be "cool" and "fun" based on my bumper stickers.
Bumper stickers are the ultimate form of personal propaganda. They let your fellow drivers know what you like, or don't like, where you've been, what you believe in and what organizations you belong to. And with all the bumper stickers that exist, I can't help but think that there are a few still missing…and a few that need to be slightly altered.
"IT'S A SHAME THAT A COW HAD TO DIE
TO MAKE YOUR BIRKENSTOCKS"
Aren't they also made from leather? Come to think of it, aren't many backpacks and hiking boots made from leather, too? Some vegetarians need to question their logic.
I guess it's fine to kill a cow as long as you don't eat it.
"SOME OF MY BEST FRIENDS ARE BLACK"
The classic "white person back-pedal" to clear yourself of any racial guilt. A saying usually spoken at a party after you notice that a black person has been listening to the horrible jokes you've been telling. This sticker guarantees your safety if you happen to get lost in one of "those" neighborhoods.
"GOT GAS?"
A kind of "helping sticker" for other drivers. Milk won't keep their car from stalling.
"SUPPORT INORGANIC FARMING"
If scientists can pull this off, I'm buying a farm.
"I’M ENJOYING MUSIC IN MY CAR"
This nifty sticker will eliminate the need for a really loud car stereo.
Plus, I won't go deaf when you drive by my house blasting Eminem at three in the morning.
"AN OPEN MIND IS AN EASY THING TO MANIPULATE"
At least a closed mind only believes in a few things.
An open mind believes in everything!
"THERE'S NO ' I ' IN 'TEAM,' BUT THERE IS AN ' I ' IN 'WIN' "
Sometimes you just have to do things yourself.
"IT WILL BE A GREAT DAY WHEN PUBLIC SCHOOL KIDS HAVE ALL THE BOMBERS THEY NEED"
That way, they can bomb Washington, and start over with this whole government thing. Most people working in our federal government are overgrown kids, anyway, so why not let actual kids run things. It probably wouldn't be much different.
"MY OTHER CAR IS A 1979 CHEVY NOVA, TOO"
Now this is what I like. Honesty.
"IF YOU THINK PUBLIC EDUCATION STINKS, TRY INCONTINENCE"
I have no explanation for this one.
It's catchy, and it's gross, and that's good enough for me.
"I BRAKE FOR MORONS"
On foot, on a bike, or in a car, who else do you have to slam on your brakes for?
"HONK IF YOU LOVE YANNI"
It'll be easier for me to find you…and strangle you.
"SLOW DOWN! I'M LATE FOR WORK, TOO!"
This is for the guy who's just a little too close behind you. I mean, we all gotta get there. We're both already late, so let's take our time. The second we both get to work we're gonna wish we were still in our cars, anyway.
"...NOT THAT THERE'S ANYTHING WRONG WITH THAT"
As long as you put this at the end of the sentence, you can safely say whatever you want about anyone's lifestyle choice. Goes nice with a diplomat license plate.
As summer beats its heat down upon us, we find ourselves needing less and less clothing. From mid-April through most of September, a T-shirt and shorts is the norm. Anything else is too hot, and anything less might be, well, illegal. Not to worry. There are some options for the "fashion frustrated."
For women who don't want to wear a dress, but still want to wear less, this summer has seen a proliferation of spaghetti strap tops. This garment, a combination of a bra and a tube top, is quite popular among younger women because it is cool, cute, and flattering for the "chestily blessed." It is popular with men because it is cute, tight, and, also, flattering for the "chestily blessed."
Men don't have as many cute options for themselves, however. They can wear the good old T-shirt, or they can wear the notorious "tank top." The tank top, essentially a T-shirt without sleeves, is the epitome of summer fashion. Women like the tank top because it can show off a man's muscles. Men like the tank top because it can show off their muscles and their tattoos.
If you've spent any time "people-watching" this summer, you know that Allen Iverson is not the only gentleman who has several thousand dollars invested in tattoos.
Tattoos are everywhere these days. Men are getting them. Women are getting them. Little kids are getting them. I could be wrong, but I think I even saw a dog with a tattoo the other day.
Though I don't personally have any tattoos, I wholeheartedly support them as a form of free expression and creativity; right up there with body piercing, plastic surgery, and hair extensions. Where there's a wallet, there's a way, and if you derive inner peace and harmony from exterior decorating, then go for it. I'm not going to stop you. Some guys write their name in the snow when peeing out a campfire, and others have their name burned in ink on their chest. Whatever floats your boat.
A lot of people have "cool" tattoos like skulls, dragons, or American flags draped over motorcycles. Women like to get little ones around their ankles. Sailors like to get anchors tattooed on their forearms. The possibilities are endless.
However, unlike other cosmetic morale boosters, tattoos are one item that can cause extreme embarrassment down the road. What seemed like a great idea when Chip and Kyle took you drinking that night, might make you want to take your own life when you're sixty.
For example, a Limp Bizkit tattoo (I've seen many) is not something you're going to want to show your grand kids. Neither is a tattoo of a pot leaf, a guy whizzing on a Ford logo, or the name of the girl you used to date before you married the woman who you divorced right before you met their grandmother.
A severely dated tattoo, or a tattoo devoted to a fad is also a no-no.
A "Macarena" tattoo is a bad idea. So is a Spice Girls tattoo, a Lionel Richie tattoo, or a "Where's The Beef?" tattoo. In other words, think before you ink.
In addition to worrying about which tattoo you choose, you might also have to worry about how the tattoo looks, and is going to look, on your body. Bodies change over time. Men in their late '20s tend to grow body hair, and that includes on their back, and if that's where you've got a large piece of body art, you're going to have to perform constant maintenance. If you have a lot of tattoos, think of your body as a traveling art museum. Somebody has to clean up. It's great to have a tattoo of Stevie Ray Vaughn covering your entire back, but if it looks like he's wrestling a sasquatch, you might want to get out the clippers.
You'll also gain weight as the years roll on, and that will effect your tattoos, as well. That John Wayne on your arm will soon look like John Candy if you're not careful.
Whatever tattoo you pick, make sure it will stand the test of time, and that people around will be able to stand looking at it. Also, try shaving around that mole, too. Thanks.
from the Chattanooga Outlook
"I understand the attempt to reach out to these children, but this is an unacceptable surrender, borderlining on disgrace." Jesse Jackson, Mount Holyoke News, February 13, 1997, speaking on the subject of ebonics.
"Stay out the Bushes! Stay out the Bushes!" Jesse Jackson, 2000 Democratic National Convention, campaigning in ebonics for Albert Gore.
If I haven't learned anything else in my lifetime, I've at least learned that the Reverend Jesse L. Jackson is scum. I know that doesn't sound nice, especially coming from a white person, but not all truth is nice. It's simply truth, and truth doesn't keep score of people's feelings.
White people have traditionally been afraid to openly criticize black people. They're afraid that, in these tumultuous times, the slightest slight or negative word towards a black person will induce accusations of racism, incidents of violence, and (the highly-profitable) civil unrest.
Many black "leaders" will take any scrap of this white-introduced negativity and use it as a rallying cry and excuse to gain support so that, ultimately, they can collect a paycheck.
And speaking of "leaders"? Why are there black leaders, at all? If there were white leaders, all hell would break loose. The only ones I know of like to hang people and wear sheets to their meetings. But black leaders (many equally as horrible as their white counterparts) continue on unabated, and without anybody checking up on what they're actually saying and doing.
My favorite black leader and supposed "disciple of Dr. King" is Mr. Jackson. He is simply amazing. His ability to exploit "his people" is second-to-none, and the acceptance and praise he receives doing it is mindboggling.
Jesse Jackson is what the late, great Booker T. Washington would call a "problem profiteer." He must ensure that there is strife and division between the races, or he won't be able to make his mortgage payment, or open another business in the name of "freedom."
And Jackson sure loves freedom. He loves it so much that he will travel to any poor black neighborhood and "preach" to the people that they "are somebody," and that, one day, they will rise up out of the situation they're in and reach the "Promised Land."
I have a question, though. If the people he preaches to already possess the power to do all that, why do they have to bother coming up with the $25-$30,000 that Jesse charges to motivate them?
Jesse is also a proud member of the Democratic Party, and one if its biggest pawns. Despite his earlier comments denouncing the teaching of ebonics, Jackson was more than willing to "dumb it down" in a speech directed towards his target audience during last years Democratic Convention. Al Gore got the black vote. Jesse got the white money.
Jackson is also willing to travel to any volatile situation to strategically have his picture taken, and to be shown "bringing us all together" by building up enough hostility on both sides to push us even farther apart. He also likes to accuse business leaders of racist hiring practices in order to blackmail their companies into starting businesses in inner cities so that he can profit from them. During one of these "benefits," Jackson was able to "pimp" some corporate "ho's" out of $500,000 that went towards opening up a California office for his Rainbow/PUSH coalition. It seems that at the end of Jesse's Rainbow, there truly is a pot of gold; gold that will ensure that he, his wife, his children, his mistress, and her child will have enough money to "keep their on eyes on the prize" for years to come. What that prize is, though, I'm not sure even Jesse knows anymore.
If you would like to hire Jesse to speak at your event, you can book him by contacting the Santa Barbara Speakers Bureau at (805) 682-7474 or on the web at www.speakingpros.com. He can talk about social issues, civil rights, education, or democracy, and for the right money, might even make some balloon animals for your kids! And if he's busy, don't fret. The firm also handles Jeff Foxworthy and Joe Piscopo.
Two weeks ago, MTV took a break from its regular programming to present seventeen and a half hours of anti-hate crimes "programming." After the airing of a film about Matthew Shepard (the college student who was murdered simply because he was gay), the network aired probably the spookiest chunk of television to ever grace the airwaves. The more I watched, the more weirded-out I felt. For an entire night, the screen was filled with celebrity-narrated messages similar to this:
2/5/97 Wherever, California
Two gay men were leaving a bar when two men in a jeep allegedly threw a bottle at them and screamed, "Get out of here! We don't need your kind around here!" The two men in the jeep then reportedly drove back, got out of the jeep and allegedly beat the two gay men with baseball bats. It was rumored that the perpetrators were allegedly associated with the Ku Klux Klan.
Six to seven similarly horrific depictions of hate crimes (committed against practically every race, creed, religion, and sexual orientation) would follow before the narrator interrupted with the line, "Hate Crimes Begin with Discrimination." This series of messages was repeated over and over again for, as I said, seventeen and a half hours. And while this was a noble effort towards a noble cause acted upon with the best of intentions, I have to ask, why was it done by MTV? Don't those letters stand for "Music Television"? It's quite a leap for a network that started off playing videos.
For MTV to broadcast this material is to assume that they are a voice that should be listened to, and that they are credible. Well, I submit that on many levels, they're not.
Let's first examine that night's programming. Each and every incident had at least one use of the words "allegedly" or "reportedly" contained within it, some as many as three. In a purely journalistic sense this is not credible because, although the account may be true, it's not supported by actual evidence. Showing video footage (MTV used to be good at showing videos) from a handful of actual hate crimes would have been much more effective than reading seventeen and a half hours worth of mind-numbing "reported" hate crimes. I mean, come on, where's the shock value? Isn't that what MTV's about? It was so hypnotically repetitive that I felt like I was being programmed, like my television was a loudspeaker on the streets of, say, Nazi Germany. Scary stuff.
Also, many of the accounts dealt with people approaching members of a minority group, saying something horrible, and then leaving without doing anything else. While terrible, these actions are legal. You know, Free Speech. The same rights that protect us "smart" people protect those "dumb" people, as well. Yes, you still have the right to be a moron in the United States.
MTV's credibility can also be challenged by taking a look at its history. The same network that brought this thought-provoking evening of thought provocation has also brought you Beach MTV, Beavis and Butthead, Pauly Shore, Tom Green, MTV's Spring Break, and my personal favorite, Jackass, where star Johnny Knoxville likes to have poo splashed all over his body. While there isn't anything intrinsically wrong with these programs, they don't, necessarily, form the basis of a journalism powerhouse.
MTV News coverage usually consists of a thirty-second fluff piece to promote a new album. You might call it advertising.
MTV's "The Real World," furnishes roommates (gay, straight, black, white, oriental, Hispanic, Mormon, cowboy, etc.) with a luxury home and encourages them to fully (and violently) explore their differences through a series of squabbles and out-and-out fights for the sake of good ratings.
The network is also very fond of airing blatant, sexual images of women (mostly through videos) to attract viewers for their advertisers. And isn't this portrayal of women something that many groups are against because it promotes, among other things, rape, which, if I'm not mistaken, can fall into the category of a hate crime? Hmm, irony…
I hate crime. I hate hate crimes. I really hate it when the irresponsible among us prioritize crimes based on their own selfish needs. MTV's preference towards "politically hot" crimes like hate crimes ignores other, less marketable crimes like old fashioned serial killing, armed robbery, drug smuggling, child abuse, political corruption, and corporate crime, crimes that might not get the ratings, but sure do hurt just as much. Good ideas can take a terrible turn in the wrong hands. MTV needs to leave the activism to someone else, and stick to what it does best, being stupid.
from the Chattanooga Outlook
I recently started drinking green tea. I had heard about its health benefits, but never actually experimented with it. After a friend poured me a mug, I felt myself developing a mild addiction. It was quite tasty and refreshing (like it said on the box) and, almost overnight, I began to feel calmer, healthier, and more culturally diverse.
As I went shopping for my first box of this wonder beverage, I noticed just how many choices there were. In my favorite trendy local "health food" grocery store, about half of one aisle is devoted to tea. Of that half, roughly half is devoted to green tea, and its various bastardizations.
Picking a box to buy was not as easy as I thought it would be. I didn't exactly know what to buy. All I knew was that it had to be good for me, and that it had to be green. Finally, after ten minutes of staring at more tea than I ever thought existed, I narrowed my choices down to two.
My first choice, TAZO Green Ginger, had a classy package and some vividly inspirational words on the wrapper. "There is a garden overlooking the Yangtze River gorge where an elderly man contemplates his life while sipping a cup of Green Ginger. Perhaps you would like to join him."
I though to myself, "Wow, I sure would like to join him! That sounds fun and peaceful and enlightening!"
It might be advantageous of other companies to employ a similar approach when peddling their goods. "There is a porch overlooking a backyard party where a redneck, contemplating fighting the dude that hit on his girlfriend, sips his sixth Pabst Blue Ribbon. Perhaps you would like to join him." Like the tea bag gives us a glimpse of oriental life, the PBR ad could give other cultures a glimpse of ours. Oh well. Whatever. Back to shopping…
My second choice, Celestial Seasonings Decaf Mandarin Orchard Green Tea, had a few more things going for it. First, it tasted like orange. I like orange. Second, it was very specific about its nutritional value. "Green tea is a natural source of antioxidants, which neutralize harmful molecules in the body known as free radicals. By taming free radicals, antioxidants help the body maintain its natural good health." I thought this was good. I consider myself to be something of a free radical, too, and anything that can subdue me is worth trying.
The third reason I picked this particular tea was because it was the cheapest. If I'm going to be a sucker, the least I can do is save a few bucks.
And the last reason I picked it was because there was a cute little panda on the box. As I asked the clerk in the store to help me select a green tea, I had noticed that the ones that he recommended had either a panda or a bald, robe-wearing oriental man sitting Indian-style on the box. That's how you know they're authentic.
Like many of my fellow countrymen, my use of green tea symbolizes our sort of fascination with the "wonders of the East." Remember the "Ancient Chinese Secret" commercial for laundry detergent? Several women I know only go to get their nails done by the oriental ladies at the mall because they tell me that these ladies have a special "ancient technique" that makes the nail polish last longer. This is obviously a fallacy. While the ladies do a great job, and are sweet as can be, their nail polish applying techniques are not ancient because nail polish, itself, is not ancient.
We are also very attached to eastern philosophy. And where do we get it? Fortune cookies and books about philosophy and philosophers like Confucious. Many of these books were written by short, bearded Americans who've never even been to China or Japan. And how do we quote this brilliant man? "Confucious say…." Grammatically incorrect. If we have such respect for his teachings, can't we quote him correctly? Do we have to dumb him down for mass consumption? I'm sure the man knew how to properly conjugate his third person singular verbs.
When pushed through the meat grinder that is American commerce, oriental culture looks phony and convoluted. Leave it to us Americans to exploit the simplest and most cherished foreign traditions.
"There is an arrogant country overlooking all others where the people use up foreign cultures and traditions in order to make a buck. Perhaps you would like to join them."
from the Chattanooga Outlook
The "Boy Band" is alive and well. A terrible phenomena which seemed to disappear ten years ago with the not-quick-enough death of the New Kids On the Block, has once again spread like a plague, infecting every record store window, Billboard chart, and teenage girl's fantasies.
But as much as I despise the recurring "Boy Band" craze, I have to shamefully admit that this evil monster of pop music marketing has sucked me in, too. One day, while watching VH-1, I met my fate. And his name is Lance.
As I sat there in my T-shirt and boxers, it wasn't just the beautiful words or the sophisticated music of N'Sync that appealed to me. It was the total package. When you watch one of their videos, you can tell that they've truly lived the lyrics to their songs. It's tough to find a band as sincere as this one. They literally jump off the screen with "good feeling" and encouragement. At one point, I put down my bag of Combos, got off the couch and started groovin' along. I threw my hands into the air, waved them like I just didn't care, and screamed, "Oh Yeah! This is the band that I've been looking for!"
And within this revelation that call themselves N'Sync, there is one member who is the quintessential "Boy Band" pawn…uh, I mean…member. His name is Lance Bass (like the fish).
Lance's real name is Lanston, and he's a team player. According to his official N'SYNC web site profile, Lance doesn't try to grab the spotlight from the other members of N'Sync, instead, he opts to stay in the background and fortify the music with his sweet bass voice. His moves on stage are perfect, and he drives the girls crazy with his glowing green eyes, angelic oval face, and beautifully styled golden locks. He's also very photogenic, pimple-free, and does everything his manager tells him to do.
After being blown away by Lance and the rest of N'Sync, I expressed my newfound excitement to my wife, who, although being skeptical about my sincerity, suggested that I should write a letter to Lance.
I took her up on the offer. Here's a copy of the actual letter:
Dear Lance,
My name is Bill. I'm a 26 year-old married man from Chattanooga, Tennessee. I love N'Sync, and you're my favorite. "Tearin' Up My Heart" is my favorite song, and I have all your cd's. I had a dog named Taco, but we had to put him to sleep because he got hit by a van. I read an interview with you in Teen Beat, and I found out that we have a lot in common. You and I both HATE mushrooms and reincarnation, but we both LOVE pizza, french toast, apples, and horseback riding. We also both have innie belly buttons! I don't wear pajamas to bed like you do, though. I wear underwear. And I'm also not that crazy about Lucille Ball, like you are. But that's okay. You rock, anyway! What's your favorite kind of cereal? Mine is Golden Grahams. They taste good. Do you like to read? I do. It's fun. Sometimes when I read, I pretend that I'm the person in the story. Like, one time, I was reading "Iacocca" by Lee Iacocca, and I pretended that I was a mogul of a large automobile manufacturer. It was cool. I got to say things, like, "Hey, I think automatic safety belts are a great idea," or "I'm sorry, Bob, but we're gonna have to let you go." That's what's great about an imagination. You should try using yours sometime.
I hope you're having a good summer, and I PROMISE that I'll see you guys in concert when I can. Until then, keep it real. And, oh yeah, you guys are WAY better than the Backstreet Boys.
Your Friend 4 ever,
Bill
I never received a reply from Lance. I didn't expect one. If you were a 20 year-old guy, and a 26 year-old guy wrote you a bizarre letter like that, would you respond? I wouldn't. Still, I'd love to meet Lance. We could hang out and do cool stuff like go to the Gap, rent Titanic, read some Harry Potter books, download some Limp Bizkit songs from Napster, and eat dinner at Chili's. And after I showed him my Beanie Baby collection, I could show him how to get a job. I figure he'll need one in about 6 months, or so.
Well, I gotta go. The therapist says I can see him now.