I Can't Think of a Title Without Swearing.

As I sat in my office, I got a notification from CNN's app saying that the House of Representatives will not vote on any legislation regarding the so-called "Fiscal Cliff" until tomorrow.

I check out the full article (http://politicalticker.blogs.cnn.com/2012/12/31/house-unlikely-to-vote-on-any-deal-until-after-cliff-deadline/) and find these points that stick out:

"There is no difference in voting at 2 a.m. than tomorrow at 4 p.m.," one of the GOP sources said.

Fuck. You. This is the response of a procrastinating college freshman who spent his financial aid on a kegerator the week before a final paper was due. "Look, Bro, the shit's not due til 6, I'll bust it out, no big deal."

Well, GOP frat boys, it is a big deal. You've had over a fucking year to get your shit figured out. If this was school, a real job or your fucking rent check being late, you'd be on your ass in the street. But no, real life doesn't hold any meaning for you anymore, does it? "Aww, fuck it. What's the worst that can happen?"

My life, and the life of millions of others, gets royally fucked. The dad who lost his job due to "cost-cutting" measures at the company posting record profits can have his unemployment held, costing him his fucking house. The poor grandma taking her cocktail of Parkinson's and cancer drugs has her Medi-Care payments frozen, now she can't stop the agonizing shaking her self during the unknown time where you try to figure this shit out whenever you feel it makes you look the best.

"GOP sources admitted there is an added benefit to the Senate's delay: taxes would already be up, so lawmakers could argue that they are voting for tax cuts, as opposed to tax increases."

And here, my last point is re-iterated.

So, the House leaders see a hole. They could fix the hole, but then people won't REALLY know how much damage the hole could have done. Rather, they'll let someone completely eat shit by stepping in the hole, stepping up and saying "oh, here, we didn't see that hole at first, but we just filled that hole up a bit, now it's not so bad." In their mind, they look like fucking Zorro, cape waving in the wind. In my mind, they look like a bratty 7 year old wearing a Power Rangers sheet with their Underoos on their head.

So, here I come, knowing full well that I am about to step into this fucking hole, trying to guess "can I fill out my taxes on time?," "How much will my paycheck be different?," "Will this cause me to lose my fucking job?"

I'm sure I'll sleep a lot fucking better once the smoke settles and only a few thousand people lose their jobs, homes and peace of mind. John Boehner, you're a fucking dickhead.

Degradation of Self.

A week ago, my Grandmother passed away. Her funeral was yesterday. Just as with my grandfather's funeral 14 months ago, I fucking hated it. I hated the pastor who didn't know my grandmother, I hated the slutty Vegas-hooker outfit my aunt wore, I hated my dad's stupid orange mullet and his new girlfriend, who's fucking younger than I am. But almost all of this was driven by my hatred of how my grandmother's last year on Earth went.

My grandmother, Gertrude Isabelle Yost, had Alzeheimer's. Stage 6, which is the second to worst stage, had her striking her nurses, screaming at my dad to kill her, and unaware of her surroundings. She had become an echo of her former self. I can't think of too many things worse than the thought of losing my mind. It's one of the most terrifying things I can imagine.

As the funeral got closer, I couldn't bare the idea of sitting still, of not doing something. If I sat there, I would find myself dwelling on it. I found myself using the probability of moving as an excuse to do stuff like pack and wander the house, grabbing any and all of my stuff that has made it's way into the dark corners of my roommate's house. I couldn't just SIT THERE. Sitting there wasn't an option.

"Will I forget who Cal is?"
"Will I just sit there, staring at a wall while shitting myself?"
"Will I want to live anymore?"

I found that I could think about it, but not talk about it. The second I started bringing it up to Cal, I could feel myself tearing up. I feel bad, because I wanted to tell her what I was feeling, but couldn't get the words out. At least until after the funeral. But now that that's gone and passed, I can breathe a bit easier, though I am still pretty freaked out about the amount of mental illness that happens in my family.

This was my dad's mom that had just passed, but my mom's grandma also had Alzheimer's, having once told me that she saw my mom the week before, in jail. This was before she tried to stomp on the non-existent snakes coming from the floor.

My aunt's bi-polar, my mom suffers from depression (though, like most people with mental illness, feel ashamed and deny it), and I have cousins that are teenagers and medicated for severe mood-swings.

I KNOW that there is no sure-shot way to tell if these things will happen to me, but I know that there are things I can do to help minimize the chances of my mind going to shit. So, I play shit-tons of puzzle games, I write, I debate, I learn everything I can. Anything I can do to keep my neurons firing. I'm sure it comes off as me being easily distracted, which is also true to a point, and a know-it-all, but I can't help it.

THIS SHIT FREAKS ME OUT. More than losing a limb or a sense (though losing the sense of hearing/sight freaks me out pretty good, too.) or having to use a wheelchair or any kind of physical disability.

What I saw was a woman who, in describing her love for my grandfather not even a year and a half ago, might as well have been me describing how I feel about Cal, lose that love. That loss was devastating to her, and I can't imagine the turmoil that the loss of her cognitive abilities added to that. It makes me both angry and sad that even with the massive improvements in science and technology, we can't figure this shit out.

Stupid introspection.

I've always managed to define my thoughts, feelings and general sense of well-being through song lyrics, which is a major factor in why I majored in music and still plow through far too many albums. I find myself burning through song after song, consuming the lyrics, chewing on the particularly tasty morsels for a bit longer. 

I mentioned to Cal that I really liked the opening bit to A Fine Frenzy's "Now Is The Start," which goes like this:

Do you hear, do you hear that sound?It's the sound of the lost gone foundIt's the sound of a mute gone loudIt's the sound of a new start

She asked me why, and I didn't have a readied response, so I went back and thought about it. I realized it's yet another instance where a songwriter proves why they are considered songwriters by perfectly encapsulating a general feeling that I have and condensing it into a perfect little tidbit. 

Flash back to August 2011 (yes, I know it's not much of a flashback, but bare with me, here), where I felt so utterly behind in everything that I wanted for myself. I was working a shitty job that I fucking hated, riding the wake of failed relationship after failed relationship, driving a boat-length of American shit-on-wheels and generally feeling like I kept choosing the worst possible decision in each moment of my life.

Flash forward to now, where I feel like I am juuuuust about to where I expected myself to be in my early thirties. I have a job that affords me the privilege of not having weapons drawn on me, a girlfriend whom I am head-over-heels for, and an amazing dog, courtesy of the aforementioned girlfriend. 

I suppose, in a way, I felt like my life was muted, in a strange limbo of sorts. That the surreal existence between living with the POO Crew in San Dimas and now was a holding place. Granted, I've had some good times since then, visiting Scumbag in Portland, some ridiculous parties with Wendy and company and finally getting the tattoos I had wanted forever. 

But, since meeting Cal, the mute button got turned off and the volume turned to eleven. I attribute the happiness I feel when I'm around her as the major catalyst for me wanting to make shit happen, rather than "waiting for the right moment." Thus, I actively searched for, and applied to, and accepted my current position as a publicist, something I've wanted for YEAAARRRRSSS. 

I started writing more, and becoming far more conscientious of my writing, as I didn't want her to think I was a terrible writer, or worse, a lazy writer. I was simply lost, without purpose, without motivation, and wholly without direction. 

I told her that I love writing, but that I am terrible at choosing a subject or prompt. That's probably why I like writing reviews so much, the prompt is "Is this good or bad?" Easy enough. But, with writing about feelings and thoughts, it's easier for someone to ask me a question than it is for me to sit down and think "What should I write about?" Blech. 

So, anyways, THAT'S why I like that line so much. It describes how I am feeling now that I have finally found the start.

And Alison Sudol is not unattractive. 

Things Change, People Change

This past weekend, I was a groomsman in my good friend Patrick's wedding and it stirred up a lot of emotions. First and foremost, was a surreal sense of pride I've only really encountered twice before; at Mike/Larisa's wedding, and upon finding out that Wes and Ashley had gotten secretly married.

With Mike, it was my best friend kind of certifying his happiness. He and Larisa had already been together for a while, so the wedding didn't get me particularly emotional, but I did feel genuine and complete happiness for the guy whom I had known since I was 6 years old. Beyond the stereotypical "knows me better than I know myself," Mike has always had the ability to make me recognize that even the shittiest of situations would have an ending, and even as he had such a milestone that was most definitely (and rightfully so) focused on Larisa and him, he had me feeling like a million bucks by inviting me to be a part of it.

With Wes, here was a guy who had lived in multiple countries, on multiple coastlines and in all of the chaos of that (this coming from a dude who has lived within 200 miles of his hometown his entire life), he recognized an opportunity and had the balls to go for it, which made me so much more proud to call him friend, and even more so that he referred to me as the same.

Patrick and Betsy are some of the only couples that I have absolutely no hesitation in saying "they are perfect."

Now, this is not to say that I don't know a lot of couples that aren't awesome, but for those whom I know REALLY well, Patrick and Betsy get to join the ranks of couples whom I aspire to be like, joining the other two listed above.

Patrick, Wes and I used to all live together, and it will always be the source of some of my favorite memories, but what sets Patrick apart is this sense that he knows EXACTLY what he is doing, even if he confides later that he had no idea what he was doing.

When I met Betsy, I thought it was an interested juxtaposition of personalities, a calm and calculated fountain of knowledge and a fashion-forward spaz. But, Patrick knew exactly what he was doing: settling into a relationship with the last girl he would ever be with. He knew right off that he had found "the one," and acted accordingly, being one of the most faithful and true men I have ever seen. Even with no one else around, he would never disparage her, never act upset, even if they had a disagreement. He knew what he was doing.

Now he is the second friend to have not only invited me to their wedding, but asked me to be a part of it, not just to witness is, but to stand beside him as he made his decision official. I can't think of too many things that fill me with as much pride.

This wedding was made even more intense by being the first I've attended with Cal, and the first I've ever attended where I thought "Well, when I get married, I will do this rather than that," or "When I get married, I'm totally going to steal that idea." It wasn't that previous weddings were at all substandard, but that I had resigned myself to the idea that I probably wasn't going to get married. With my dad's record (0-3), and my string of awkward dates and sustained singledom, I didn't have much to look at except for Mike and Larisa, Wes and Ashley and Patrick and Betsy.

Each has given me the faith that I would know when I found "the one," and that it wasn't some stupid fucking movie bullshit. Well, I've found her, and I can't wait to see how our story pans out.

"Obamer's a Socialist" - Why you shouldn't listen to Charlie Daniels.

I'm bothered by the lack of question mark, too.

As a general rule, I love it when celebrities get behind a cause and help shed some light on little-known charities or stand behind politicians that they believe are making the world better, but I have recently discovered that Charlie Daniels is an ill-informed hillbilly who needs to keep his fucking mouth closed.

Now, what bothers me, and this is my #1 complaint about politics as a whole, are the over-arching and terribly inaccurate statements that the esteemed fiddler spouts off.

“You cannot enforce socialism without some force,” Daniels told WND. “It’s a very top-heavy society, and every society that’s ever tried it has fallen..."

Now, this is both wrong and, well, wrong. I know, I know. Here's what I mean:

It's an inaccurate statement to say that every society that's ever tried socialism (just that phrase makes it sound like drug use, doesn't it? "Hey, Korea, wanna try some socialism?" "I don't know, China, it looks pretty brutal, man.") has failed. I am not sure if you've ever heard of a country called India, but it is listed in it's constitution as a socialist state. Sure, there's a fuckton of people there and as a result it's got a whole lot of people, but it's not a failed country by any means. 

But what was REALLY wrong with Chuck's statement was alluding to the idea that having socialized programs made the country as a whole a socialist state. Schools, police departments, fire departments and our freaking streets and freeways are all examples of (GASP!) SOCIALISM! It's the idea of pooling our resources together in the name of efficiency and cost-control. 

Socialism has a Cold War-era stigma about it being un-American which is, frankly, moronic. 9-11 has re-fuled the "Let me show you just HOW patriotic I can be" mentality that McCarthyism was so good at. 

Now, I'm not trying to say that Charlie Daniels is any less America for hating on Socialism (I know you have your red, white and blue shower curtain, Chuck!), but he is an ill-informed twat about it. 

Now, he DOES actually have a point in something he said about the Chick-Fil-A business: elected officials should not threaten to oust a company from their area because a private citizen is a complete fuckwad. 

YES the dude from Chick-Fil-A is a homophobic asshat, but his right to say that he is a homophobic asshat is protected by our constitution. We shouldn't be allowed to say "If you don't agree with me, we'll shut you up." What we CAN do is write the company's board of directors and bitch, we CAN choose not to buy dried-out chicken sammiches, and we CAN choose to write on Facebook that "Chick-Fil-A is run by a homophobic piece of dog turd and I hope none of you buy food there."

That's our recourse, one that is protected by that really cool constitution of ours. 

The Convenience Christian and the Anal-Retentive Atheist

My favorite conversation topics are the ones that are most likely to infuriate and inflame: religion and politics. As the election season prepares to enter its prime, I'll soon have more than enough fodder to have you (and me) frothing at the mouth, choking on our seething rage and mourning the prolonged and agonizing death of common sense. Instead, I will regale you with my thoughts on but one of the world's religions, with all the positives, negatives and what-the-fucks of the modern Christian. I will also touch base on the antithesis of religion, with all the positives, negatives and go-fuck-yourselves of the modern atheist.

Let me start this off with saying that I don't hate Christians, I don't hate the idea of religion, Christianity included, but I DO hate what it's become used for, and even more, I hate the ignorance of what people claim to believe and the blatant hypocrisy that has become the norm. It USED to be uncommon knowledge that I was once a Sunday School teacher, having attended the same church for over a decade. I still have a Holy Bible with my named embossed in gold that my great-grandmother purchased for me. Well, as a child, it's all fairly simple, isn't it. It was for me, at least in the beginning: Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so. This went for everyone until you started wising up to the pastor's not-so-subtle digs at teen moms and homosexuals. OK, fine, those people are bad? Got it. Let's keep going. DUDE! The pastor's 17 year old daughter's pregnant! She's now a bad person, right? No? What do you mean we don't talk about it? Are you serious? Hey, mom, Aunt Theresa's a lesbian, the Bible says we should kill her, right? What? So the people that the Bible says are terrible are only terrible if we aren't related to them? Fuck this.

Then there's the Biblical blanket statements that pastor's use to indoctrinate their sheep. I mean flock.

"Homosexuality is a sin."
"Obey the Ten Commandments."
"Jesus dies for your sins."

Wait a second, do you know what the difference between the old and new testaments is?

I'll give you a second to think about it.

Figure it out? No? The New Testament is where Jesus comes into play. That entire "died for your sins" bit, New Testament. That "sacrifice a lamb" shit, Old Testament. As Christians are supposed to be following the teachings of Jesus, I'll keep to a lot of that. The Old Testament's framework of how people were to live (where the ONE Biblical quote about homosexuality comes from) was to be superseded by the New Testament, and Jesus' new idea of "Look, I'm going to die for your sins, don't be a douchebag." (Paraphrased, of course.)  Why am I making a point out of this? Because it makes all the difference in the world in what Christianity was SUPPOSED to be and the mockery it has made of itself.

Anytime someone quotes some hateful, stupid shit (mostly that Leviticus quote about a man laying with another man to illustrate how "Jesus hates fags), it's probably from the Old Testament. The Old Testament also says that the Jews of (what is now) Isreal are the "Chosen People." Not us. Not America. Isrealis: you win, congratulations! People of Alabama: God doesn't like you as much. It's in your book that you don't read.

But, back to the hypocrisy and ignorance. My biggest gripe about the modern-day Christian, and YES, this is a blanket statement, but I totally stand by this as more true than not, is that the same people who claim that the Bible is the undiluted word of God don't read the book. And if they DO, they ignore parts that would directly condemn them.

Rush Limbaugh is out there, screaming about gays and liberals raising taxes and something about Mexicans. Mitt Romney is going around to the Middle East telling Israel that they are better than Palestine because their per-capita income is higher (no joke). And Fox News is out there with their "Obama Declares War On (Something dear to your heart)" Mad Lib, generally when he attempts to do something to help the lower class.

Mr. Limbaugh's discussion of gays ruining the sanctity of marriage bit is far less compelling when you think of Jesus saying "And I say to you, whoever divorces his wife, except for immorality, and marries another woman commits adultery" (Matthew 19:9, fellas.)

Mitt Romney, who is celebrated as a man of the Lord (even if some worry about his Mormon offshoot of Christianity not being "Christian enough"), would do well to remember another quote of Jesus: "Then Jesus said to his disciples, 'I tell you the truth, it is hard for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven. Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.'" (Matthew 19:23-24; Matthew's a good book, isn't it?)

As for Rupert Murdoch and his Fox News associates, there's always: "Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute. Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy."(Proverbs 31:8-9)

So, hopefully you can start to see why a lot of people who aren't Christian get upset at the louder and more stereotypical Christian rhetorics.

On the flip side, though, are the asshole atheists, the ones who say shit like "I don't believe in Jesus." or "I only believe in myself." Oh, shut the fuck up. Jesus WAS, and this IS documented, a real dude. Saying "I don't believe in Jesus." is like saying "I don't believe in Napoleon Bonaparte." Sure, you might believe that he wasn't the son of God, born of an immaculate conception (I'm right there with you buddy), but dismissing his progressive and socialist (GASP!) ideas warrant some respect. I mean, the dude turned water into wine! Jesus was a dude who knew a nice Cabernet Sauvignon is better than Aquafina any day of the week, what's not to like?

Sure, a shit ton of people who identify with Christianity are total fucking twats, but there are some genuinely good people who believe in Jesus' virgin birth who don't give a good Goddamn if two dudes want to get married to legitimize their love, who don't mind paying more taxes to open up another homeless shelter. Take everyone and everything on a case-by-case basis, decide for yourself what you want to believe and mind your own fucking business when it comes to how someone wants to, as long as it doesn't hurt another living creature, lead their life. If you are going to claim to be a Christian, try to be Christ-like and don't shove it down anyone's throat. If you are going to claim to be a firm believer of science, try to be informed and don't shove your beliefs down anyone's throat.