Sarah Palin is the new Sexy Cat

I  heard some of the other inmates at the Asshole Factory today discussing their halloween plans, and this girl was saying, "Well, last year I was a slutty cop, so this year I think I might be a slutty cat."

But I'm going to go out on a ledge here and guess that Sarah Palin will rule the night.  And that'll be nice, it should be a sweet send off for her.  

And hopefully next year we can look back at the pictures and not quite remember why all the chicks were wearing glasses and had their hair up instead of sporting bustiers or something... 

This is What They Actually Think

I was chatting with a conservative friend of mine the other day (that's right, I'm capable of maintaining friendships with people who don't totally agree with me on everything), and things inevitably took a turn for the political.  Which is fine, the last few weeks it's been impossible to avoid, even when a bum asks me for 'change' he just has this gleam in his eye.  

Anyway, I ended up asking this dude to explain to me what it is that him and his fellow conservatives believe.  Not that I didn't know, I just wanted to hear him say it.

"Well," he said, "We believe that the reason that The United States has been so succesful since its inception is that we do things a certain way, and that we hit on the right way to do things, and that we shouldn't change anything because everything is already going so well."

If this is a personal definition or the party line, I don't know for sure. But that thinking seems to me to represent a fundamental misunderstanding of American history and culture.  

The story of the United States is not the tale of a perfect land where everything has always gone really well.  It's about a people constantly struggling to find a better way to live, to govern, and to provide for each other.  When those old coots put the constitution together, didn't they set it up specifically to change depending on the needs of a transforming culture and people?

To say that things have been going really well is, well, crazy.  Sure, things have always been okay for me, I'm 27, middle class, and white.  But I've seen 'The Wire,' so I know there are plenty of people out there who could make a pretty good argument for things being awful, and in fact that they have indeed been oppressed.  And maybe not oppressed in the sense that soldiers are knocking down the door and stealing the children, oppressed like 'victims of policy.'  That's not as sexy, but it's pretty bad.

So fuck it, let's try something new.  And I'm probably simplifying these issue big time, because I'n not that smart.  But that's the flavor of my brain today.  

NO MORE BEARDS

I'm calling for an immediate stop to all ironic or intentionally goofy beards and mustaches.  They are neither funny nor cool.  

I mean, come on people.  The only reasons to do this to your face and the world are thus:

1.  Low self image.  You think if you grow some sort of really silly thing on your face, people will be drawn to comment on that and not on you as a person, or on any element of you that you feel unsure about.  And you can all laugh about the beard or mustache together, and look at what a fun guy you are!  So charming and self-depricating.  But here's the catch.  PEOPLE SEE RIGHT THROUGH THAT.  We all know how sad and fucked up you are.  So why put a big furry sign on your face announcing it?  Make it a surprise, it's more fun for everyone that way, and you'll get to at least spend some time around other people before they catch on and start dodging you.

2.  You're desperate for people to see how 'fun' you are.  And while this is closely related to reason number one, there is a difference.  These people are usually people who are not completely crushed with insecurity.  They may have jobs and loved ones.  But deep somewhere inside them is this little voice that screams, "What happened to you, dude?  You used to be cool!"  

These people are afraid that they are getting old and lame, that they can no longer hang like they used to.  And so what do they do?  They put a big 'Fuck You' front and center.  Sure, I work a nine-to-five and invest in a 401(k), but look at my fucking mutton chops!  And this handlebar right here, you know I must be really fun to talk to.  

But you probably aren't fun to talk to.  You probably want to talk to me about yr politics or David Lynch movies or something.  Guess what, we've both read David Eggers.  It doesn't make you the edgy guy in the office.  

Affecting weird facial hair takes away from the genuine weirdness of people who actually grow this stuff sincerely.  The blessed weirdness.  They grow these configurations because they want to, because they actually think it is awesome.  And when they do it, it is awesome.  But otherwise yr wading in a pool of forced irony that some scientists believe takes away from yr essential humanity.   

HOW TO LIVE

There's a scene in the new film 'W.' where a recently born again George W. Bush is told by his preacher that he should treat everyone he meets as though they're going to die at midnight.  

If that means means going around acting like I know something that no one else does, I'm doing a great job at it.

But no, I think what that really means is that we should try and treat people with respect and love and be kind and forgiving.  And that's nice, but it seems a little optimistic to me.  There are definitely some people, that if I knew they would be dead within a few hours, that I would finally really let know what I think of them.  You hear that, Mom and Dad?

And let's not forget that sex is a thing that exists.  There are tons of people, literally tons, that I would try to have sex with if I knew they were about to die.  Unless whatever was killing them was also making them deteriorate physically.  Well, not across the board...there are some people for whom I would be willing to look past that.  

And I can't help but wonder how I would act if it was me in the death seat.  What would I do?  I guess I would want to surround myself with friends and loved ones.  And as embarrassing as it is to admit this, I would probably want to go to the beach.  How cliche.  

Imagine, though, how awkward it would be, when I had to explain to my (hopefully) grieveing family when I explained that I wanted to leave them for a while and spend some of my last precious hours of life fornicating.  Because look, if you're about to magically die, I'm pretty sure you can get anyone you want.  And they'll probably be cool with things getting weird.  Oh God, I can hear my parents complaining about this already.  

So maybe the smart thing to do would be to just be very selective about who you told you were about to die.  That might lead to some hurt feelings, but I would just send those people a letter or something.

So bottom line here, if I ask you to have sex with me, you had better do it, because I might be dying.  Be cool.