spacematic.net

…And then there are some days on this blog when I don’t even have to think about what to write. Unfortunately those days are increasingly sad, for it often means I’m talking about dead heroes. I’m sure everyone already knows about it, but Hunter S. Thompson died last night from a self-inflicted shotgun wound to the head. It’s right about here that I question my current perception of reality and give a little flick to the temple to make sure I’m not in another of those all-too-real nicotine dreams “the Patch” is so fond of supplying me with.
Nope. It is the sad truth. No more ESPN Page 2 hijinks with the Good Doctor. No more grand sweeping epics on the altered state of the human condition. No more expose̩s on fascinating latent sub-cultural protest and civil disobedience. And it seems so unfair.
For a man like HST, who lived life on his own terms and wouldn’t have it any other way, it almost seems permissible for him to have the keys to his own demise. But no. That’s not the way things are supposed to go. Hunter, you were supposed to stick this bullshit game out to the very end, supplying the masses with commentary that weaved, dodged, parried and often stabbed. It’s a double-whammy, because it’s not just a loss fans are mourning. It’s the cause of the loss that leaves us scratching our heads.
I read his last article with ESPN last Friday night, where he detailed a phone conversation with Bill Murray at three o’ clock in the morning. He was brewing a new idea and sounded rather enthusiastic about it. He and Bill Murray were going to re-invent the game of golf. Golf with shotguns. I won’t go into the specifics. Instead, I humbly suggest you go to ESPN’s Hunter S. Thompson Page 2 Archives and see for yourself. I would have loved to have seen such an event televised. Now I’m afraid the grand sport of Shotgun Golf is in jeopardy of being lost forever.
I could be content with Hunter dying senselessly if it involved bear-wrestling or snake handling. I would prefer to see him go into the Bucket-Kicking Hall of Fame while defending a damsel in distress from a pack of wild dogs. Unfortunately, we have this rather inglorious epilogue. It happens all-too-often in the world of writing. Stop doing this, people. The odds are against you as it is. The universe is a cruel and unforgiving place that will thwack you on the head and kill you the second it gets the chance. It is the cosmic four-year-old, and we are the anthill. This corporeal existence will eventually do you in of its own accord, in the way it sees fit. It needs no help. Enjoy your life and let Mother Nature take care of the cruel eventualities.
For a man who stood in the face of every obstacle in his life and balked, this seems to make no sense. Worst decision you ever made, Dr. Thompson. Thank God the work he leaves us is vast and entertaining, filled to the brim with both fear and loathing. –Mike

I’ve never fancied myself a Sunday political stumper. In a sea of rabid, opinion-oriented media, I fear my humble views sound far too diplomatic to appear authoritative. But that’s what’s great about the blogosphere. Opinions can be cast about the tumultuous waters and people can either ride them to and fro until they settle on something they agree with, or they can grab hold of an idea and be carried into uncharted territory. They may not know where they’ll end up, but that’s how the adventurous spirit benefits the species. Such behavior results in innovation. That’s why this form of communication and idea delivery is so promising. It’s in the spirit riding about the net in search of new ideas that I contribute to the blogging process.
No one person’s opinion is perfect, and I don’t pretend that my musings are of any particular innovative quality. What I do suggest, however, is that the combination of multiple opinions in the spirit of good-hearted dialogue will set in motion the forces of critical thought (in or out of the academic theater) so that anyone can potentially form educated insight from exposure to millions of voices. In this tirade, I will tackle what I see as the problematic fragmentation of the American populace and mine for truth and distortion in the 2005 State of the Union Address.
I cannot stand the all-too-common belch of rhetoric and smug proselytizing on behalf of any political structure or value system. I have always attempted to avoid being a mouthpiece for powers-that-be, but neither am I a vehement opponent of any school of thought. It is in dialogue that I believe our ultimate societal reconciliation will occur.
I fear the current media trend present on major news outlets that tend to divide us into camps of the 2004 Electoral maps. We have been led to believe that we are placed in a struggle of religious conservatives versus liberal radicals. Yet in day-to-day interaction, I find such constraints absurd. When confronted with our individual problems and close-quarter relationships, we tend to put differences aside and believe that no matter what our political preferences are, we are all in the same soup just trying to get by.
There’s a quite entertaining serial floating about the Web these days entitled Red Versus Blue. It consists of soldiers based in the fictional game world of Halo bickering and name-calling with the addition of high-yield explosives and automatic weapons. No matter what carnage ensues, Red team and Blue team reunite every episode to continue duking it out over petty grievances and trivial insults. As much fun as this serial is to watch, there is a real world analogue being played out, sans weapons, in the real world today.
This battle takes place largely in the hallowed halls of government and in small outbreaks of fisticuffs on college campuses and tightly-wound urban centers. The balance of the American population is not jaded, illiterate or deaf to the particulars of political discourse. It is only that the balance recognizes that a population as diverse as ours must find common ground in order to function as a society. The crass and ancient terms being cast about these days by the pseudo-intellectual campus movements like “plutocracy” are way too simplistic for a complex social and economic system like ours. I’m not denying the real and present problems of accurate political representation and minority rights recognition, I’m just wanting to look at the problems as the complex monsters they really are. Most people don’t like to do that, because the longer you have to pay attention to problems and search for viable solutions, the less riled you are likely to remain. People like being angry. Anger is a trigger for release, a frame of mind where many find a voice they never know they had. But when anger abates and the problems of the day remain, we must confront cold and unemotional fact. If anger alone could change the world’s state of affairs, then our problems would have been solved millennia ago. It is only in the quiet downtime after heated outburst that we recognize the problems we allude to in states of emotional overload. The sooner our society learns this, the better. That said, and political parody aside, I will try to analyze President Bush’s State of the Union Address.
Like I said earlier in my Inaugural analysis, I make every effort to watch these political events on C-Span. I’m tired of the interruptions and asides all-too-common on the network and cable news outlets. C-Span may lack drama, but it’s the closest thing to unfiltered political voyeurism that the common man can get. It is true that the lens of the camera eye still distorts our perceptions and colors images in hyper-realistic hues of grandeur. Still, the modern eye has become accustomed to such distortion and the mind can compensate with due skepticism whatever delusion it is fed, if it has the appropriate emotional detachment from the source.
The President’s opening words evoked the values we as a nation hold dear, that our officials are freely elected by the vote of the people. He added that now Afghanistan and Iraq are well on their way to having similar systems, where true power is not in the hands of bully regimes, but in the purview of those who are governed. I find this sentiment admirable, if not somewhat flawed. After all, we do have certain powers of vote, but ultimately, the government (by means of military might and technological prowess) has the power to subdue political dissent. In order to restore the founders’ intended balance between the government and those governed, we must take a long and hard look at the current electoral system. We now have at our disposal a means by which a true popular vote could be implemented and accurately tallied. Our recognition of this sort of system is still in its infancy, however, and we must not be deluded into thinking that we can have a trustworthy political tally immediately. However, in order to transition effectively into the 21st century and beyond, movement toward a true popular vote must be addressed.
Just as important, our elected officials must recognize that in order for our Union to remain strong and just to its citizenry, they have the burden of performing their duties to uncommon standards of wisdom and justice. As it stands, our system is ailing under the weight of legislative partisanship and career-mindedness. No matter what side of the political fence you stand on, how can your needs be accurately addressed in such a self-serving, back-patting milieu? The powers-that-be, now matter how earnest they seem in sound bites and silky rhetoric, are swayed more by the stuffing in their suitcoats than they are by the threat of election upset. Their scrutinizing over voter boundary in various districts all-but assures that their constituency is drawn and then placated on a prophetic canvas of career safety. The largest corporate powers on Earth are located in our own towns’ economic centers. Their largesse is not overlooked in our most hallowed halls of freedom. If these monolithic structures of commerce offend us, it is indeed up to us to acquiesce to convenience or make the personal decision not to purchase their wares. After all, our dollars become theirs, and no matter how complex the system sounds, the paper trail is quite simple. Money is power, our strongest remaining influence in this age of dubious governmental benevolence.
But don’t believe for a second that money is the sole friend of either dominant political party. Both crave the comfort and luxury that wealth affords. This is the backhanded nature of the American Dream. All people tend toward apathy the more comfortable they become. It is only in times of personal discomfort that we recognize something is amiss. The proper balance of voice and principle must be found if we are to bring those who are disenfranchised into the view of the elected elite.
Indeed voice and principle, in coordination with prudence in our daily affairs, affects the route of monetary flow. Brute force and might cannot function without finance. The trite admonition “Act Locally, Think Globally” comes to mind when confronted with this course of action. Yet to be an effective body that shapes the actions of those who govern us (and not vice versa) we must sometimes heed the worn truisms of our forebears. It is not wrong to seek wealth and comfort. It is our nature to provide for ourselves and those we love. However, it is when the desire for wealth alone becomes our chief motivator that the aspirations of the common man become the cancerous ambitions of uncompromising power structures. This is the curse of ego, and it is counter to the positive function of society. In order to rein in the betraying nature of the elected and move them to more accurately serve the public interest, it is the responsibility of the public to behave to the standards they expect to be governed by.
These same principles of self-governance and mindful action must be employed if we are to address the less-arcane aspects of governmental function, Social Security included. The freedoms we currently enjoy are fraught with potential pitfalls of personal indiscretion. Our financial behavior in current consumer culture is in direct opposition to long-term financial security. Most of us recognize this disparity, but few do anything about it and ultimately empower the government we both love and distrust to ransom us from our folly. History has shown us that sometimes national and global economic downturns can have a damning effect on our best efforts to provide for ourselves adequately; but rational and sane efforts at fiscal restraint can go a long way to buffer our earnings against the storms of inevitable financial hardship. For those of us who have the presence of mind to do so, we must act in accordance with our best interests. For if we don’t, who will? We cannot entrust a government to salvage a system burdened by widespread indiscretion. The words “security” and “entitlement” are not terms with much in common. However, we currently behave as though they are. The Social Security system is being spoken of in most circles as some kind of “National Retirement Program.” However, it was formed at the lowest point in our nation’s economic vulnerability to prevent massive starvation and riot. It was part of President Franklin Roosevelt’s New Deal with America to get us on our feet again, not to babysit us in perpetuity. Most of us have the means to adequately look after ourselves. For the small minority of those who are mentally or physically incapable of such responsibility, Social Security or other programs of public benevolence should be there for them. If the Social Security program was guaranteed on an as-needed basis, then fewer people would be administered to. This would result in a lower tax for all, allowing the majority of us to keep more of our money. For all to benefit from such a safety net program is to invite solvency issues such as the ones we face shortly after mid-century. For those who grumble that all who pay in should reap proportionally, I simply ask ‘what personal good have you ever seen from the majority of your phone taxes and touch-tone fees?’
If everything I’m talking about seems to mix the function of government into a new hybrid structure of personal freedom tied to public duty, then so be it. That’s what I’m after. I’m not claiming that all these ideas are great and ultimately practical. I’m simply trying, as I said at the outset, to contribute my voice to the sea of millions in hopes that the stimulation of widespread discourse leads to the betterment of our nation and world as a whole. Maybe I’ll write about something less heady tomorrow. –Mike

Sorry, folks. This is just big news. I’m going to depart from spacematic.net’s usual nonsense and fun to comment on the inauguration proceedings. I give myself a pass on this temporary shift simply because I haven’t commented on the President at any length since mid-April, 2004.
That said, lemme start with the protesters. I’m currently watching the A.N.S.W.E.R. Coalition’s (Act Now to Stop War and End Racism) shenanigans. As serious as these people want to seem, and as serious as their messages are, they conduct themselves in a very sophomoric manner. After all, they are mainly college students. But they’re not the rabid protest hounds of the 1960’s and 1970’s. They’re soft and giggly. They seem more excited to be on television than to be in Washington on Inauguration Day making their views known to opposing masses. The rally has all the luster of an elementary school Christmas pageant. People have their speeches, Emcees have their asides and the protesting audience hails their speakers like they’ve been popping Vicodins every other hour for ten days straight.
Their chants are silly, long and rhythmless. Try to find the thumping drum-beat of a weird chorus like “Long Live International Solidarity.” You can’t .
If there was real substance to this protest, I’d stick it out and watch it. But there’s absolutely no redeeming, controversial content. I’m going to switch over to the other C-SPAN in about ten minutes. Yawn. Dear God, they can’t even organize their audience to unify their voice when motorcades go by.
The weak woo-hoos and yips sound like they’re coming from a Holiday Inn lounge talent show. I kid you not.
John Boyd, the president of the National Black Farmers Association, a seemingly accomplished protest speaker in his own right, even fails to stir this crowd of sad clowns. Come on, guys. If you’re going to protest, bring some energy with you next time. This is truly an excercise in self-indulgence on the part of the protest organizers. Again, yawn. Regardless of political affiliation, if you’re exciting, I’ll watch you. If you’re not, I’m gonna laugh at you. Free speech seems more like a burden to these people than an invigorating exercise of their civil liberties. What happened to the vigorous rabble-rousers from the days of old? Oh yeah, they’re at another protest. Probably one sponsored by AARP. I’m moving over.
At the Capitol, they’re breaking out into song after every dignitary’s introduction. Aw hell, Letterman must be howling right now. Some joker’s actually crooning John Ashcroft’s number-one hit “Let The Eagle Soar.” High entertainment. Guy Hovis. Gotta go to the iTunes Music Store right now.
Sing with me:

“Let the eagle soar, like she’s never soared before.
From rocky coast to golden shore,
Let the mighty eagle soar!”

Let not that moment be revisited again at any inauguration, ever.
Wicked! We’re getting close to lighting this candle. Cheney’s taking the long walk down the steps and out into the cirque du jour. He’s conducting himself with his trademark expression of understated self-assuredness… and now for George, who is being escorted by a stunningly-clad Gamorrean Guard!
You’ve got to love C-SPAN for their total lack of commentary. I watched all the debates and conventions here. I’m just sick of the networks’ talking heads. I want to see stuff as it happens, without the whispering postulations of a paid pundit softly introducing me to the proceedings like some porn-star tour guide.
Okay, on with business. Trent Lott is giving his chairman’s address. Now I’m one of those folks who really doesn’t have much of a problem with Ronald Reagan, especially given the emerging historical context of his administrations. Regardless of what you think of the man, President Reagan actually got some positive, world-changing stuff done. That said, I’m growing weary of Republicans invoking him left and right, day in and day out like he’s the Patron Saint of Modern Patriotism. It’s almost lewd to regard any man as such a pseudo-deity. He was good at what he did. Now let’s get on with business. We live in 2005, not 1985. Thankfully, Trent kept things brief.
Oh dear Lord n’ butter, another song. I haven’t had to endure this much spontaneous song since I humored my mother by taking her to see “Footloose, the Musical.” Come on, just let those damn kids DANCE!!!
And now for the Oath of Office. Dick goes first, without a hitch.
Please, not another song. Let’s just get this done. Holy hell! Another mesosoprano! You know, I’m sitting at home, watching this from the comfort of my own sofa, and even *I’m* growing impatient. That poor audience. Freezing their buns off. “Each quiet act of dignity fortifies the soul of a nation that never dies.” Take a cue from the verse of this “American Anthem” you’re singing and let us swear Dude into office.
Okay. Flub monitor on. Time for the main event. Wow! He’s an eager little beaver. George takes the oath at ninety miles an hour, again without a hitch. I’m so proud.
Address time.
So far, he’s conducting himself without Texan Swagger. I don’t really know what I was expecting. After all, this is one of those occassions where Bush has had plenty of time to rehearse this event. When he has that chance, he usually performs with uncharacteristic eloquence. Such is the case today.
The message is clear. A safe world is a free world. This is the anthem of Project For a New American Century. The spread of freedom, however is no easy task; especially when not everyone wants it. The dream of the diplomatic spread of freedom, when brought to the harsh light of day, cannot be accomplished by any government or administration. Such sweeping planetary change only comes when technology enables and empowers the masses, person by person. I’m not putting all my faith in the continuing computer revolution. I’m only speaking on the precedent of history. The printing press comes to mind. Advances in farm and labor techniques also comes to bear. When people can take care of their basic needs, their thoughts tend to migrate to more philosophical ruminations. Such change takes place over decades and centuries, not at the mandate of a handful of democratic nations.
Freedom is a great idea, and President Bush gives a good speech. But we now exhibit a bit less optimism toward such rhetoric because we have the hindsight of this President’s previous administration. History’s cloud always colors hope for the future, and we have now witnessed that the despicable acts of a single maniac radical can change the course of a nation’s agenda.
In this day, the very technology that offers the world eventual intellectual salvation also bogs down our perspective and sometimes causes us to focus on trivialities rather than concentrate on the bigger picture. We must not lose sight of our nation’s first purpose, which is the maintainence of liberty at home.
“Freedom is the permanent hope of mankind.” This is the meat of the address. Agreed. But true freedom comes slowly, its cornerstone laid carefully on a firm foundation built by the desires of a whole and unified people. The promised rapid advancement of freedom, I’m afraid, is unattainable. Of course, time will tell–and I for one am ready to see this President finally succeed abroad in this last administration. For those who wish the failure of any President not only wish to undermine one man’s “regime,” but they have at heart the upheaval of an entire system of government. Let not either our blind affinity for or utter disdain of one man be the beginning of this Republic’s undoing. Nor let us blame a single Executive on the loss of all domestic liberty. Such thoughts remind me of a wise phrase: “You can vote to keep your rights. You cannot vote to get them back.” Ultimately, the course of this nation is in our hands.
I certainly have my grievances with this President, but I will put my faith in our political system and use the power of my vote to make my views known. I never have believed in the doomsday scenarios of the politically paranoid, be they on the right or the left. Our very system was organized so that such catastrophe should never come to bear. But that topic of discussion is for another entry.
I now take off my political hat and hand spacematic.net back to general madness. –Mike

Image credit: ESA/NASA/University of Arizona

What you see here is another world. Fancy that. At first glance, you may think ‘we’ve been to the moon, we’ve seen brief snippets of Venus and we’ve totally gotten an eyeful of Mars,’ and you’d be right. But this is the first time that we’ve seen another world with active surface features not totally unlike our own. What makes these pictures even more amazing is that this familiar-looking terrain is on a moon of Saturn 800 million miles away.
Being so far away, the average surface temperature of this moon, “Titan” is -290� Fahrenheit. Needless to say, the liquid you see isn’t water. It’s methane. Scientists have long believed that Titan has lakes of hydrocarbons like methane and ethane, with liquid properties of clarity and viscosity comparable to water. Hydrocarbons are essential elements to the building blocks of life. It is unlikely, though not impossible, that primitive cellular life could exist in an environment as harsh as little Titan.
Next time you look out the window of an airplane and see the snaking drainage channels of streams and canyon rivers, remember that we now have proof that something similar, though strangely alien in composition, exists out there. I’ll be keeping an eye on the data coming back from the NASA-ESA Saturn mission, and if anything fruity comes up from the likes of Noory or Hoagland, I’ll be sure to report in. These are indeed fun and thought-provoking times for space geeks. –Mike

It is both an honor and a beverage to be blogging to you again. I have to give a little nod and plug to the people who made it possible for me to maintain my posts from the beach. There’s a cool little Internet café called “Phil & Lynn’s Place.” Here’s the URL: http://www.philandlynnsplace.com. Something like this has been sorely missing on the West end of the beach. Hell, it’s just been missing from the area. Thanks, guys! If you find yourself down here with a laptop and no place to go WiFi, go here. It has a very home-like atmosphere, while also providing really good Kona and several new Dell workstations for those who don’t have a machine of their own.
I got a lot of work done yesterday. I spent my first few hours holed up in the Panama City Public Library, checking out ancient newspapers and books too fragile to be in visitors’ hands. The upstairs “Local History” section is small, but packed with all kinds of records, including family histories and plats of land that have exchanged hands over the years. I also learned a great deal about the ancient history of the area. Maybe it’s not fun for everyone. But for me, it’s like being a kid in a candy store.
After research, I thought it would be a great day for photography. I drove down to Seaside, where to my surprise, I found a Jittery Joe’s. Damn. Of all the places. For those of you who ever lived in Athens, I believe this to be the only franchised store outside Clarke County. And it’s not just Joe’s in name. It also has Jittery Joe’s Coffee!! Woo-hoo. The atmosphere is markedly different than the dingy, dark retro hall that used to sit next to the Engine Room; but when you’re at the beach, how can you really complain, silly? Cool is cool, no matter how you slice it.
I notice that a few of you have decided to download my tunes. I’ve already received emails regarding people’s desire to know what I’m singing on “Because Of You.” Here you go:

spacematic
“Because Of You”
�2002-2005 Jon Michael Griffin

“Beneath the burning ferrite winged heels of speed,
A whirling, twirling bastard burns and flares and breathes.
The first of daughters’ acid cotton candy shines,
Her little neighbor sister’s radio sounds all right.
Chorus:
“Because of you we cannot break the chain,
(We move in circles)
Because of you we travel circles.
Because of you we know the difference between darkest nights,
(Thank God We’re Here)
You make the morning see the day.
“Marvin’s face is red ’cause he isn’t even real,
‘My God, it’s full of stars’ and crazy cult appeal.
We drive our cars by its name,
It sounds like such a bad thing,
The King of the Deep’s far out, hey he’s beat!
Rocky’s knocked right out in eight!
Chorus, Bridge…
Chorus:
Because of you we cannot break the chain,
(we travel circles)
Because of you we travel circles.
Because of you we know the difference between darkest nights,
(thank God we’re here)
You make the morning see the day.
Because of you it all begins and ends,
It returns and sends, it totally depends,
You make the pagans pray and in the Northern Lights,
You even burn at night.”
There.
A few people have ventured to guess that this song is about God. Sorry, no cigar. Keep working on it. Although the choruses sound conspicuously reverent, you’re off the mark. Of course, God makes an apearance in the song, and of that I’m certainly not ashamed, but you guys gotta give this one another crack to figure out what the heck my caterwauling shrieks mean.
In a passing nod to the news today, Prince Harry better get his act together. As much as Americans hate Nazis, the Brits should hate them even worse. After all, they got the tar bombed out of them by those goose-stepping eugenics freaks. Now they’ve got an heir to the crown clowning around in one of their precious little outfits. I know Harry’s just being an adorable buffoon, but that modern English gentleman stereotype is starting to get old. The world already has a Hugh Grant. We’re trying to ignore him. Why the Hell do Americans even care about the Royals? That’s like a three-ring circus stopping in its tracks to watch Yakov Smirnoff. Okay that’s low. Yakov’s mural at Ground Zero was truly touching. But I can hate Gallagher all I want. So strike “Mr. …In Russia,…” and replace him with that melon-smashing goon. Go back to the Eighties and stay off my TV! –Mike

Damn. Look at it. Poor Goofy Golf. It stood proudly, like a beacon on the Panama City Beach skyline since 1959. Now, I don’t even know what has become of it. Was the proud signage resurrected? Or did the quirky establishment fall like so many other articles of impermanence littered upon the beach? I don’t know. I haven’t been back since October. I’m due to go back in just a few days. I’ll fill you in.
In a grand, international context, none of this really matters. Like I said earlier, the hundreds of thousands of Southeast Asia tsunami victims sort of minimize (or scale-down) the loss of homes and amusements in Florida. At least in the good ol’ USA, we know we can usually re-build, get fresh water and food and ultimately recover and flourish. For the people of Southeast Asia, however, things don’t look so good. I fear the toll on human life will increase with disease and hunger and the inevitable violence that results from desperation. Talking heads and pundits all over TV and the web are already anticipating the blame America will face for not taking a more aggressive role in the rebuilding of Maldives, Sri Lanka, Indonesia and Thailand. So sad. It’s almost as if those very people enjoy being loathed by the rest of the world.
Maybe that will be our legacy on everything we touch. Even so, we can’t be deterred. There is an air in that sort of rhetoric that rings of a subconscious “why should we even try?” The answer is simple. We must commit ourselves to such efforts because we can. If America sews up its pocketbook, (which, may I remind you, it HASN’T) we would be inviting new and unheard-of disasters of world opinion. In the end, we can’t really worry about our current world opinion. We can only be ourselves and move forward with whatever scarlet letter of indifference we may or may not have earned. We can only remember our compassion for those in need and imagine what we would do if our families or neighbors were in such need.
Truth be told, America and Americans in particular are among the most generous givers of financial aid on Earth. Private organizations in America lead the world in getting necessities to the rest of the world. Charitable causes and churches quietly apply private American dollars to a struggling and starving world that most of us have never had to face. We’ve got it good here, folks. And for all of our supposed ignorance, we give it good, as well.
The domestic shame factor, a casting of poison at one’s own people, is something I will never understand. But it seems to be a new American pastime. You’ve read it before. “We are pigs. We are filthy, under-educated and uncouth rabble. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do if we can ever be proud to say we are cultural and intellectual peers on the world stage.” Yet other wealthy nations of the Earth are a lot less willing to give, proportionally, in times of crisis.
There is no magical nation of ultimate knowledge, compassion, understanding and angelic brilliance. Every square inch of Earth, every single nation is filled with people. People have good ideas and bad ideas, grievances and causes, love and anger. Folks are folks, heritage and history aside. What are we all doing today? When the sun sets on each day, that’s what really matters to me. I may be piss-and-vinegar angry with America tomorrow. So be it. I’m only human, after all. –Mike

Look, I know there’s a lot of Tsunami news in these three most recent entries. After this little note, I’ll be done with the tsunami updates for the next day or two, barring something monumentally catastrophic developing in the wake of an already sad state of affairs for the disaster-ravaged souls in that region.
As I was wishing happy New Year to my friend Tony in London, he said that although he knows many people who vacation in that part of the world, no one he knew was enveloped in or otherwise connected to the tragedy. In the span of those words, I began to ponder the fate of Arthur C. Clarke. He has been living in Sri Lanka ever since the late 1950’s, if my memory serves me correctly. For those of you who are unfamiliar with Clarke, he is the author of “2001: A Space Odyssey” and a contributor to the concept of line-of-sight communications for the now ubiquitous network of satellites that hover over our heads. He seems to have weathered the disaster without personal harm having come to him, however his estate did not escape unscathed.
According to the Hindustani Times, Clarke said “Among other things, the country (Sri Lanka) needs to improve its technical and communications facilities so that effective early warnings can help minimise losses in future disasters.” A brief and fitting quote from a man whose speculations and visions helped shape the technological wonderland we take for granted today. Glad you’re still with us, Mr. Clarke. –Mike

Where was the Twenty-First century I was promised? Somewhere along the line, things went woefully out of control. Now, the circumstances under which we currently live resemble the wet dream of a mid-1980’s pork-belly profiteer. We were supposed to be attacking environmental problems head-on, saving the future for generations of human beings to follow without the risk of poisoning, polluting and destroying. We were supposed to be more enlightened and we were supposed to have a greater sense of personal responsibility.
Instead of more efficient, more sane methods of transportation, we dug our heels in and gouged the dwindling oil market with the largest, most destructive vehicles that can possibly be made without pre-mounted weapons. Our corporate executives dry hump the profits of their productive workforce and then pay themselves more for the gift of robbing us blind. If we look back on the greed of the 1980’s with disgust, then the future will look at the first decade of the twenty-first century as the most unnecessary backslide on the ethical, technological and political march of progress. We’ll be lucky if we’re not too disgusting to be a mere mention. Hell, I’m ashamed of myself for being here at this point in time. The world we live in today is grossly self-interested, self-medicated and parasitically destructive. What happened to the dissatisfaction of Generation X in the 1990’s? Weren’t we supposed to do something positive with all that angst?
Well, something happened today that mede me feel a little better. The goofy little Spaceship One made its second successful flight to space today, marking the beginning of commercially-driven space tourism and (eventual) exploration. Now I’m suddenly inspired again. Now I have hope for the future. Maybe we’re not so disgustingly self-interested and entranced by pop culture that we can look on this with a modicum of the wild-eyed innocence our parents and grandparents viewed the fledgling Mercury missions. Maybe this silly little spaceplane is big enough to distract society from its hedonism and languid, barstool hypnosis and remind us that “HEY! We’re living in the 21st freakin’ century here! Let’s light this thing up and meet it head on!” Melt down the Navigators and Escalades! Spaceships for everyone!!! –Mike

Yesterday, Mike McGarrity invited me to meet him for lunch. I thought it was a bit in bad taste to meet at “Bahama Breeze,” especially given the approaching storm. Whatever.
When I woke up this morning, the first pictures coming in were places that I remembered vividly and even fondly from last year, but now they were mangled and different. I guess I picked the right year to live at the beach. 2003 saw nothing like this. Nonetheless, extreme and violent weather on the coast is frequent, and no laughing matter. Even when there is no hurricane activity in the Gulf, tropical storms and tornadoes barrel through the flat expanse of the panhandle like a fat man at a buffet table. Lightning is also spectacular on the Gulf of Mexico. Branches flash and stretch across the sky, sometimes with such frequency as to light your way as you walk or drive. Of course, I wouldn’t recommend walking around on the beach in a lightning storm. Always seek the shelter of a lone, tall tree… and be sure to wear conductive metal mesh undergarments. A CB antenna strapped to your head can serve as an extra taunt to the gods. Damnit, people. Just don’t go outside.
I interviewed for a job in Fort Walton Beach last year. The manager had a tale of bravado and delivered it with a combination of zeal and solemnity. He said that during Opal, he didn’t evacuate. Rather, he opened the doors and windows and greeted the onslaught. A lone, tiny man, armchaired and steeled against the wrath of God like the guy in the Maxxell commercial of years gone by. Many of the potential recruits sat around the table and gawked in awe at this brave soul. I, on the other hand, dug my tongue into my cheek and held back from belting “IDIOT!” Like the famous last words of the redneck are “watch this,” the guy was going to stare down a hurricane so he could tell the buddies.
I decided not to take the job when only five minutes later he said he was recovering from gunshot wounds received by drug dealers while hunting. I never learned what he was hunting for. Any man who puts himself in that much danger wantonly is dangerous himself, and where I’d be his friend if circumstances were different, I’d never want him to be my boss. Fool. –Mike

Every so often, MTV does something it thinks classic, innovative or hip, only to have it backfire and flame up in its face. If the pop-cultural stalwart had its way, we’d all think MTV is the cutting edge, heart and soul and very pulse of young America. But reality ultimately has its say, and time after time, reality exposes MTV for what it really is: an organization of detached suits and arrogant hipsters tracking data and sucking up easy dollars through advertisers who are guaranteed the thirty-minute attention spans of average middle-class white teenagers. I lost interest in MTV shorty after “Remote Control” aired in the late 80’s. It was a sign of darker things to come.
So the Kerry daughters have a walk-on spot at this year’s MTV Video Music Awards. Interesting. The young, moderate-to-liberal crowd should have a heyday cheering the progeny of their choice for Commander In Chief. Right? Kids are politically charged and love seeing campaign tactics in the midst of entertainment, right?
Apparently, wrong. Instead of the guaranteed cheers to be expected from the greasy young throng of years past, the poor ladies were booed miserably. I’m not a fan of booing. I think it’s mean, and if you can’t say something nice, then don’t say anything at all. For me, boos are only to be issued in extreme circumstances. But people of the VMA crowd wanted to be heard, and boy were they. Now, is it likely that the crowd in attendance was conservative and rabidly pro-Bush? Yeah, right. I think this is an indicator of something else. I think Jenna and Barbara would have gotten the exact same reception. ****CORRECTION/ADDITION!!!! SO I WASN’T THERE, AND I DIDN’T WATCH THE STUPID VMA’S ON MY LEAST FAVORITE NETWORK. HERE’S THE DEAL. BOTH SETS OF DAUGHTERS WERE PRESENT FOR THE BOO-IN’ RUCKUS. THE KERRY DAUGHTERS WERE LIVE, THE BUSHIES WERE VIA BIG-SCREEN, PRERECORDED, I THINK.**** This is a not-so-subtle expression of young people’s dissatisfaction with politics in their music. The two used to be like peanut butter and chocolate. From the Sixties through the Nineties, politically-charged rock waxed and waned, coming to the forefront with bands like U2 and Rage Against the Machine. MTV’s alignment with Dems has existed because they bank on the party to be the choice of young people, promising change, promising a new world – all the stuff kids want. But the Democratic party, much like its alternative is ancient, inflexible and overdue for replacement. The youth of today see both Democrats and Republicans as adherents to institutions of antiquity, hold-overs of times and policies they had no part in and of which they have no interest. Maybe the era of pundit-rock is over and now people simply want entertainment… or anarchy.
A growing trend among high-school youth these days is an attraction to anything “anti,” especially anti-government. The trend is a response to burnout, plain and simple. The geezers at MTV need to take this cold response to their distinguished guests as though it were a swift kick in the balls. Take notice. You’ve lost touch, and kids will get their jollies some other way. Much like the political parties it endorses or derides, the network has lost touch with the people. Oh, and do I hear a familiar tune? Yes, I do… but the words are different. “Internet killed the video star,” I think it goes. A bitter pill to swallow, MTV. I hope you choke, lose audience and get sucked back up into the Viacom monstrosity, black-hole style. –Mike