Here's the link to this article on the website, but the editors mangled it. The original version is posted below: http://media.www.dailycampus.com/media/storage/paper340/news/2007/10/30/Commentary/Finally.I.Can.Graduate.In.Peace-3065167.shtml
This column is self-serving and essentially egotistical. I’m not writing about an important political issue or a valid campus concern. I’m writing because I got to rush the field Saturday at the football game and now my college experience is complete. Until now, the approaching completion of my 120 credits hung like a court date circled on the calendar. I felt I had not “done it all.” Now I am content, and can move onto whatever comes next.
During my college search, I narrowed my options down to UVM and UConn. My aversion towards attending my state school (I’m from the New Haven area) mirrored the reasoning used by anyone who had attended a marginally big high school: because ‘everybody’ goes there and I wanted something different- that and I didn’t like the notion of my parents popping in weekly if I was so close to home. It’s also the reason I didn’t go to Yale. The reality? Your parents are fired up to get rid of you. (The Opinion Staff has started to phase out the usage of the word ‘you’ because it insinuates what the reader is thinking and can thus offend people who don’t hold that viewpoint. I’m not asserting that all your parent’s hate you.) Their mock anguish exists only to saddle you with the obligation to buy them nice things when you become successful. (I just said ‘you’ were going to be successful, ‘you’ can’t be pissed about that.)
I went on my college visit to UVM with the latent intention of making it my final choice. Anything I found attractive about the school, I would have overrated. Any deficiencies, I would have depreciated. “Oh it’s overrun by smelly hippies?” “I heard they were easy-going people.” We arrived at the school, gave the town a cursory glance and started in search of the football stadium; a staple of every assessment. Upon being notified by a confused undergraduate that the football stadium we were trying to find didn’t exist, my college decision was made. It’s one of those deal-breakers that wasn’t dismissible, like a girl telling you she’s really into Saw III or a guy canceling a first date an hour before he’s supposed to cook for a girl because he “just doesn’t feel like it.”
So Storrs it was and it proved to be a good time to jump on the Huskies’ bandwagon. The team moved up to Division I in 2000 and one of the swiftest rises to prominence in recent memory. They attracted the interest of a major conference by 2002, had joined that conference by 2004 and were given a bowl invitation in their first year of eligibility, an impressively fast growth spurt on anyone’s charts. Still, while they hovered on the edge of college football’s upper echelon, they still hadn’t made that prized kill; they weren’t yet “Made Men.” As Hunter S. Thompson once professed “The Edge... there is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over.”
The Huskies went over that edge when they toppled the No. 10 ranked team in the nation. I went over that edge when I vaulted ten feet over a three-hundred pound, steroid addled security guard who had a scared freshman in a full nelson. The energy in the stands was palpable. Strangers were high-fiving and cracking jokes and making sure their neighbor would give them a boost onto the goal posts. A heavy rain has a harmonious effect on a group and probably also accounts for part of the reason the squad pulled off these last two wins. In sports it’s said that weather is the great equalizer and it definitely did its part in minimizing the handicap caused by the team’s usually inferior speed. But the effect of the crowd also can’t be dismissed. These past two weeks were a statement. The Huskies, like true alpha-dogs, marked their territory. The Rent is officially a war zone, an unstable environment for opposing forces. (They also have a hunting store right on the property, which is convenient for those who wanted to go to a football game and then buy a fishing rod or thought tailgating with a rifle raised the level of excitement.)
The game ended in the fashion of all memorable upsets, with a conclusion that had fans delirious with anticipation and with a nervous, “what’s going to happen next?” feeling )similar to how Britney Spears’ supporters feel.) The crowd descended onto the field with a mob mentality. This was my moment. I started towards the front, shoving kids out of the way like a self-indulgent passenger of the Titanic trying to get to a life boat. The sight of the security guard opening a can of whoop-ass only reminded me to, in the words of Van Halen, “hit the ground running.”
Let’s face it: aside from capsizing the goal posts, the actual rushing of the field activity is just a glorified exercise in insanity. After about age six or seven it stops being socially acceptable to jump around screaming in joy. There’s only so many times you can slam a player on their shoulder pads or high five a 65 year-old before you realize you’re acting like you just traded a fourth round draft pick for Randy Moss.
But the sense of achievement doesn’t derive from the actual act but rather the significance of the occasion. The football team has finally stepped onto the national stage. They earned their first -ever ranking in the respected polls. (At least all that lobster those players are being fed at their fancy new facility now seems justified for the time being.) And I got to rush the field. Now I’m okay with wrapping up my stay on this farmland, although that’s probably only for the time being, as well- at least until I realize I’m going to need a job that pays more than ten dollars an article.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Monday, October 29, 2007
Racism and Me
http://media.www.dailycampus.com/media/storage/paper340/news/2007/10/18/Commentary/Societys.Racist.Values.Counterproductive-3041237.shtml
I don’t consider myself racist. I wish they sold a hat that said that. Even so, I amble through life with the explicit intention of being seen as a friend to all people. I don’t know why I do it. No one has ever told me I was acting like a bigot but then again I don’t have many friends that speak like feminists from the 1970’s. Our society is inveterately sensitive; every action is scrutinized for any semblance of racism or sexism or any other kind of ‘ism. Whatever the reason, when a homeless man of a different race accosts me on the street, cup in hand, I immediately launch into a charade of caring.
I never carry change with me. I think it’s because I don’t want to be that guy who walks around with the audible noise of coins clanging together. I also like to have the option to sneak up on someone if the situation requires it. Despite this, when I am approached on the street by a person who’s heritage traces back to Africa, I always reach my hands into my pockets, dig down deep, and look up with the most compassionate of frowns as I resentfully notify the ragged looking individual. If I happen to actually have change, I’ll give it to him. If I don’t have any pockets, I’ll pat my waist with my hands like there’s a chance I’ll have a quarter taped to my thigh and then give him or her the bad news.
When a white homeless person approaches me, they get a different response. Each time, I look the other way as I walk by his witty sign and mutter something under my breath about him getting a job, or at least a shower. Without fail this is how it happens. People of color get a sympathy act while white people get an economics lecture. Let me also clarify that I’m not just a snobby undergraduate. When I have money I am happy to donate to charity or the homeless but since I am currently a scholar, I don’t usually have a bale of cash lying around.
I was thinking about this other day and realized in my own twisted way, I might actually be acting racist, by not trying to be racist. When the citizen of Caucasia solicits me I think “this man can get a job. Instead he’s living the high life. He relaxes all day, maybe hollers at a girl or two and then he pumps unsuspecting strangers for change when he hungers for a Big Mac.” So I walk past him with no misgivings. When a black person approaches me my thought process is different. “Because of the unfortunately biased hiring practices that occur in this country this man has obviously had trouble obtaining a position of employment. I feel very badly about this and want to show this man concern. Also, for some reason, I feel that if I do not display some sympathy then I will be labeled a racist.” I subconsciously assumed that the white person is a screw up while the African-American is just disadvantaged.
At the time, this sounded even worse and made me sad but, as I thought about it more, I realized that rather than me being prejudiced, I was espousing social prejudices that unfortunately pervade. I thought I was being racist because in my admittedly sheltered and limited point of view I have not been exposed to overt and blatant forms of racism. The thought processes that influenced my actions were erudite perceptions that had been inherited from my environment. I personally was not withholding a job from this person. In fact, if I had a spare job I would have no problem giving it to him, as long as he took a shower. I was just unconsciously saying that his skin color probably impeded his search for employment.
So where does this leave me. I began this confessional with the purpose of reporting on my personal outlook on racism and its incidence in today’s society. I thought I could give a fair view because I am also a minority (Jewish), although it is one that’s had a much easier go in this country. But frankly, who am I to be talking about society in a prescriptive sense. I’m just a seventh semester accounting major with an apparently warped view of archaeologists. I’m not sure what made me think that in my short 21 years of existence I had actually gotten a fair sample of racism and its place in today’s order.
What’s interesting to note is that, in essence, my thought process espouses reverse racism. While not intending to demean the white people, I essentially slight them in order to appear more compassionate to the other races. It all comes down to the fundamental insecurity introduced at the beginning. The publics’ tendency to dissect every exploit and its motive has caused me to over compensate and, in effect, still act racist; except this time the victim is my race.
I don’t consider myself racist. I wish they sold a hat that said that. Even so, I amble through life with the explicit intention of being seen as a friend to all people. I don’t know why I do it. No one has ever told me I was acting like a bigot but then again I don’t have many friends that speak like feminists from the 1970’s. Our society is inveterately sensitive; every action is scrutinized for any semblance of racism or sexism or any other kind of ‘ism. Whatever the reason, when a homeless man of a different race accosts me on the street, cup in hand, I immediately launch into a charade of caring.
I never carry change with me. I think it’s because I don’t want to be that guy who walks around with the audible noise of coins clanging together. I also like to have the option to sneak up on someone if the situation requires it. Despite this, when I am approached on the street by a person who’s heritage traces back to Africa, I always reach my hands into my pockets, dig down deep, and look up with the most compassionate of frowns as I resentfully notify the ragged looking individual. If I happen to actually have change, I’ll give it to him. If I don’t have any pockets, I’ll pat my waist with my hands like there’s a chance I’ll have a quarter taped to my thigh and then give him or her the bad news.
When a white homeless person approaches me, they get a different response. Each time, I look the other way as I walk by his witty sign and mutter something under my breath about him getting a job, or at least a shower. Without fail this is how it happens. People of color get a sympathy act while white people get an economics lecture. Let me also clarify that I’m not just a snobby undergraduate. When I have money I am happy to donate to charity or the homeless but since I am currently a scholar, I don’t usually have a bale of cash lying around.
I was thinking about this other day and realized in my own twisted way, I might actually be acting racist, by not trying to be racist. When the citizen of Caucasia solicits me I think “this man can get a job. Instead he’s living the high life. He relaxes all day, maybe hollers at a girl or two and then he pumps unsuspecting strangers for change when he hungers for a Big Mac.” So I walk past him with no misgivings. When a black person approaches me my thought process is different. “Because of the unfortunately biased hiring practices that occur in this country this man has obviously had trouble obtaining a position of employment. I feel very badly about this and want to show this man concern. Also, for some reason, I feel that if I do not display some sympathy then I will be labeled a racist.” I subconsciously assumed that the white person is a screw up while the African-American is just disadvantaged.
At the time, this sounded even worse and made me sad but, as I thought about it more, I realized that rather than me being prejudiced, I was espousing social prejudices that unfortunately pervade. I thought I was being racist because in my admittedly sheltered and limited point of view I have not been exposed to overt and blatant forms of racism. The thought processes that influenced my actions were erudite perceptions that had been inherited from my environment. I personally was not withholding a job from this person. In fact, if I had a spare job I would have no problem giving it to him, as long as he took a shower. I was just unconsciously saying that his skin color probably impeded his search for employment.
So where does this leave me. I began this confessional with the purpose of reporting on my personal outlook on racism and its incidence in today’s society. I thought I could give a fair view because I am also a minority (Jewish), although it is one that’s had a much easier go in this country. But frankly, who am I to be talking about society in a prescriptive sense. I’m just a seventh semester accounting major with an apparently warped view of archaeologists. I’m not sure what made me think that in my short 21 years of existence I had actually gotten a fair sample of racism and its place in today’s order.
What’s interesting to note is that, in essence, my thought process espouses reverse racism. While not intending to demean the white people, I essentially slight them in order to appear more compassionate to the other races. It all comes down to the fundamental insecurity introduced at the beginning. The publics’ tendency to dissect every exploit and its motive has caused me to over compensate and, in effect, still act racist; except this time the victim is my race.
Saturday, October 6, 2007
The Internet is Important: Archaeologists Have No Credibility
I have an intense distrust of archeologists. These earth dusters enter a cave and see a drawing of a man killing a buffalo with a sharp object. Then take detailed notes, analyze the soil content, and then three years later they write a thesis paper stating that people who lived in caves, referred to as “cavemen,” killed their prey with a primitive weapon known as a spear. I guess I’m selling these scholars a bit short. The work they do is probably a little more complicated- I just didn’t want to do any research. Anyway, for the sake of this article, we are going to leave it at that.
My point is that while analyzing drawings is simple enough, how do we know that these drawings are indicative of what was actually happening. When I was younger I liked the Ninja Turtles so much that I used to draw myself as a one every time we were asked to sketch a self portrait; I even went as far as changing my name. It was a very awkward experience to walk around high school with a letter jacket that said Leonardo on the front. But imagine a couple thousand years down the road, an archeologist unearths a painting of a Ninja Turtle approaching a girl at the lunch line. They might think that, in the past, turtles could talk, as well as learn various types of martial arts and they were very unsuccessful with women.
Now the counter argument is that these drawings are verified by stories that have been inscribed and passed down through the generations. But again, I call into question the reliability of these narrations. I’m sure you’ve played the proverbial “telephone” before. A rumor is started, and then you end up finding out that what you were told is mostly fabricated. But imagine that this version is the only one that makes it through the centuries and suddenly it’s on record as being the accurate portrayal.
Additionally, most of these stories have been translated by many people over the course of many years. I was working in a restaurant this summer and I had to carry a large amount of lemons and limes from the kitchen to the bar. The head cook, a very redoubtable man, saw me carrying them very negligently and he instructed me to put them in a bucket so the customers didn’t get a bad impression of the place. The problem was that he was a Mexican and had a Spanish tongue and I thought he told me to put them in my pocket because I am extremely awful at understanding accents. I ambled out of the kitchen with a mass of fruit in my pants, and this guy was speaking English. I’m not saying that everyone is as impaired as I am, I’m just saying that mistakes could have been made.
Haters will reason that many artifacts are found that help piece together history. Many of these pieces corroborate with the ancient accounts to form an almost certain record. But just think about how many dainty little trinkets are found that archaeologists have to use scattered knowledge to determine their functions. And then think about how much artwork is churned out by our pre-schools- they are like little useless craft sweatshops. Now fast forward to the distant future where Al Gore is somehow wrong and we still have a planet. An archeologist beams down from his space pod and his telekinesis tells him that there is some sort of artifact buried under a certain hover-craft race course. This young scholar digs up a macaroni necklace and after analyzing it he sells it for a billion dollars (I’m adjusting for inflation). Now some 60-year old Jewish woman is walking around wearing it like it is some sort of garish priceless piece of jewelry when it really was made by some three-year old, attached to a refrigerator until he forgot about it and then tossed into the receptacle for burying.
In reality I’m not trying to knock archaeologists, although I basically just did, I’m just trying to illustrate the fact that there is an element of uncertainty regarding the fellows who have previously walked this globe. The interesting aspect about all these scenarios is that, starting with the internet age, there will never be this kind of ambiguity. This handy little invention stores everything, and I mean everything. If you take an embarrassing photo and it’s posted on the web, it’s going to be there forever. If you make a song about your pick up truck and it is posted on a file sharing network, students at your former University will be able to download it and enjoy its lyrical quality for years to come.
Now this is going to have good and bad consequences depending on how you look at it. Some job applicants have been hurt by the fact that companies can pay to look back at the last three years of their Facebook profile. Interviewers can see the picture of the botched keg stand you did freshman year and discern that you do not follow through on projects.
On the flip side, we will now have a permanent record of current events. No more disintegrating newspapers or indecipherable tablets of stone. The accuracy of an account can be verified by checking the many different sources available. Thousands of years from now our posterity will be able to sit down in front of a computer, or most likely, put on a headset, and tell the voice commanded motherboard to pull up pictures of their great-great-great grandparents. They will be able to see what their ancestors looked like, what their activities were and even their favorite movies. They will have such a wealth of knowledge regarding our lives. The scariest part is that they will be able to find a column written by their ancestor 3,000 years ago and realize that they descended from some sort of weirdo that thinks about very odd things.
(You might have found this article amusing but the most amusing part to me were the comments it recieved when it ran in The Daily Campus, UConn's student newspaper. Here's the link to the article on the papers site, comments are at the bottom:
http://media.www.dailycampus.com/media/storage/paper340/news/2007/10/05/Commentary/Archaeologists.Have.No.Credibility-3014796.shtml)
My point is that while analyzing drawings is simple enough, how do we know that these drawings are indicative of what was actually happening. When I was younger I liked the Ninja Turtles so much that I used to draw myself as a one every time we were asked to sketch a self portrait; I even went as far as changing my name. It was a very awkward experience to walk around high school with a letter jacket that said Leonardo on the front. But imagine a couple thousand years down the road, an archeologist unearths a painting of a Ninja Turtle approaching a girl at the lunch line. They might think that, in the past, turtles could talk, as well as learn various types of martial arts and they were very unsuccessful with women.
Now the counter argument is that these drawings are verified by stories that have been inscribed and passed down through the generations. But again, I call into question the reliability of these narrations. I’m sure you’ve played the proverbial “telephone” before. A rumor is started, and then you end up finding out that what you were told is mostly fabricated. But imagine that this version is the only one that makes it through the centuries and suddenly it’s on record as being the accurate portrayal.
Additionally, most of these stories have been translated by many people over the course of many years. I was working in a restaurant this summer and I had to carry a large amount of lemons and limes from the kitchen to the bar. The head cook, a very redoubtable man, saw me carrying them very negligently and he instructed me to put them in a bucket so the customers didn’t get a bad impression of the place. The problem was that he was a Mexican and had a Spanish tongue and I thought he told me to put them in my pocket because I am extremely awful at understanding accents. I ambled out of the kitchen with a mass of fruit in my pants, and this guy was speaking English. I’m not saying that everyone is as impaired as I am, I’m just saying that mistakes could have been made.
Haters will reason that many artifacts are found that help piece together history. Many of these pieces corroborate with the ancient accounts to form an almost certain record. But just think about how many dainty little trinkets are found that archaeologists have to use scattered knowledge to determine their functions. And then think about how much artwork is churned out by our pre-schools- they are like little useless craft sweatshops. Now fast forward to the distant future where Al Gore is somehow wrong and we still have a planet. An archeologist beams down from his space pod and his telekinesis tells him that there is some sort of artifact buried under a certain hover-craft race course. This young scholar digs up a macaroni necklace and after analyzing it he sells it for a billion dollars (I’m adjusting for inflation). Now some 60-year old Jewish woman is walking around wearing it like it is some sort of garish priceless piece of jewelry when it really was made by some three-year old, attached to a refrigerator until he forgot about it and then tossed into the receptacle for burying.
In reality I’m not trying to knock archaeologists, although I basically just did, I’m just trying to illustrate the fact that there is an element of uncertainty regarding the fellows who have previously walked this globe. The interesting aspect about all these scenarios is that, starting with the internet age, there will never be this kind of ambiguity. This handy little invention stores everything, and I mean everything. If you take an embarrassing photo and it’s posted on the web, it’s going to be there forever. If you make a song about your pick up truck and it is posted on a file sharing network, students at your former University will be able to download it and enjoy its lyrical quality for years to come.
Now this is going to have good and bad consequences depending on how you look at it. Some job applicants have been hurt by the fact that companies can pay to look back at the last three years of their Facebook profile. Interviewers can see the picture of the botched keg stand you did freshman year and discern that you do not follow through on projects.
On the flip side, we will now have a permanent record of current events. No more disintegrating newspapers or indecipherable tablets of stone. The accuracy of an account can be verified by checking the many different sources available. Thousands of years from now our posterity will be able to sit down in front of a computer, or most likely, put on a headset, and tell the voice commanded motherboard to pull up pictures of their great-great-great grandparents. They will be able to see what their ancestors looked like, what their activities were and even their favorite movies. They will have such a wealth of knowledge regarding our lives. The scariest part is that they will be able to find a column written by their ancestor 3,000 years ago and realize that they descended from some sort of weirdo that thinks about very odd things.
(You might have found this article amusing but the most amusing part to me were the comments it recieved when it ran in The Daily Campus, UConn's student newspaper. Here's the link to the article on the papers site, comments are at the bottom:
http://media.www.dailycampus.com/media/storage/paper340/news/2007/10/05/Commentary/Archaeologists.Have.No.Credibility-3014796.shtml)
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
About the Influence
In a recent anti-marijuana television commercial they show a teenaged girl grabbing some munchies out of the fridge as a friend calls out her name. She turns around with a very confused look on her face. Now the viewer is thinking, “Man, this young girl must be hopelessly stoned. She does have a problem. She doesn’t even recognize her own friends.” Then the camera pans to the friend; the issue is that the friend is actually her dog. “Lindsay, I wish you wouldn’t smoke weed. You’re not the same when you smoke.”
The first time I saw this ad I wasn’t even sure what the “friend” said because I was too busy meditating on that fact that the dog was speaking to her. What is the message here? Smoke weed and you can talk to animals? I guess it is touching that “man’s best friend” is pleading with her for a change but when doesn’t a dog find us humans a bit weird. We’re always going places to do work and eating with utensils and we refuse to catch Frisbees in our mouth. I also like that the dog uses the term “weed,” it shows that he is hip to the jive of today but honestly, how many ten year olds innocently approached their parents and asked how they could start smoking weed so they could talk to their pets? The problem here is that while trying to educate our young ones about the perils they will face in the real world, such as drugs, its done in an ineffective way.
The chief problem with anti-drug advertisements is that they depend too much on scare tactics to get their message across. They hammer home the alleged end result of using these substances without supplying the logic to reach the conclusions. “Smoke pot and you’ll be lazy.” “Smoke pot and you’ll be anti-social.” But if a kid sees this message, and still decides to experiment, and does not find these warnings to be applicable, as sometimes is the case, then he or she may disregard the underlying message of the ad, which is, in fact, true.
We live in a celebrity obsessed culture where Dr. Dre and Snoop smoke bongs in their videos and other personalities across the board openly admit to using the substances and it gives it appeal. If parents (who are naturally not cool- it’s a proven fact) instruct to just say no to drugs but then celebrities who get all the glamour are shown using the substances, who do you think is going to win out? “Say no because my parents say so,” or “Smoke weed, have (what appears to be) fun and party with scantily clad women.”
Now I’m not blaming the media or celebrities, they are both natural parts of society, it’s just that in all anti-drug attempts I’ve come across, they always seem to miss the point a little bit and leave me more confused than anything. They have the one ad where a friend is giving a testimonial about pot’s influence on her former friend. On the verge of tears and in an obvious fit of misery she explains, “Jody started smoking pot and…she started spending so much time by herself. She started staying home all the time and… wouldn’t hang out with us anymore.” This is very touching and I’m sure some can relate to parts of it but come on, really? Nobody gets into smoking pot by lighting up by themselves at their parents house. Maybe they were just bad friends. Maybe she never wanted to hang out with them in the first place and it took a few tokes for her to just say, in softer terms, screw it. That’s what authority figures say pot does. It just makes you start saying screw it to showers and haircuts and parents and condoms. Maybe she now had new friends who weren’t afraid to smoke a little cheeba with her once in a while and they weren’t constantly nagging her in a half-crying voice to come hang out.
That is why the anti-drug campaigns are always a little bit off; “Just say no” doesn’t work but the hard part about advocating a different course of action is that by doing so you are, to a certain extent, advocating the use of substances. This issue pertains to alcohol education too. CNN.com recently ran an article about Stanton Peele, the author of “Addiction-Proof Your Child.” His perspective is that “any program that tells kids flatly not to drink creates temptation.” It is a natural phenomenon that people want what they can’t have.
The Libertarian Party takes the issue even further. They are pushing for the end to all drug prohibition. They say that it does more harm than good and is the cause of a lot of unneeded violence. Just like all other pro-drug voices they use the example of alcohol prohibition and how there was a significantly elevated crime rate during that time. They say another facet of the problem is that since drugs are illegal the cost is inflated and this causes users to have to commit crimes in order to support their habits. This not only creates danger for citizens but means that a significant amount of police resources are devoted to alleviating the problem. While they represent an extreme and radical end of the spectrum, they do give food for thought.
I really don’t know what the overall solution is but what’s currently being done is not working. Look around you, drinking and smoking is everywhere and nothing that has been done to attempt to curb the use of these vices has worked with much effectiveness. All these ads talk about being, “above the influence” but I feel like that implies a general avoidance of the subject. Let’s talk about the influence and discuss the influence and reach a compromise regarding the influence that doesn’t involve taking advice from animals.
The first time I saw this ad I wasn’t even sure what the “friend” said because I was too busy meditating on that fact that the dog was speaking to her. What is the message here? Smoke weed and you can talk to animals? I guess it is touching that “man’s best friend” is pleading with her for a change but when doesn’t a dog find us humans a bit weird. We’re always going places to do work and eating with utensils and we refuse to catch Frisbees in our mouth. I also like that the dog uses the term “weed,” it shows that he is hip to the jive of today but honestly, how many ten year olds innocently approached their parents and asked how they could start smoking weed so they could talk to their pets? The problem here is that while trying to educate our young ones about the perils they will face in the real world, such as drugs, its done in an ineffective way.
The chief problem with anti-drug advertisements is that they depend too much on scare tactics to get their message across. They hammer home the alleged end result of using these substances without supplying the logic to reach the conclusions. “Smoke pot and you’ll be lazy.” “Smoke pot and you’ll be anti-social.” But if a kid sees this message, and still decides to experiment, and does not find these warnings to be applicable, as sometimes is the case, then he or she may disregard the underlying message of the ad, which is, in fact, true.
We live in a celebrity obsessed culture where Dr. Dre and Snoop smoke bongs in their videos and other personalities across the board openly admit to using the substances and it gives it appeal. If parents (who are naturally not cool- it’s a proven fact) instruct to just say no to drugs but then celebrities who get all the glamour are shown using the substances, who do you think is going to win out? “Say no because my parents say so,” or “Smoke weed, have (what appears to be) fun and party with scantily clad women.”
Now I’m not blaming the media or celebrities, they are both natural parts of society, it’s just that in all anti-drug attempts I’ve come across, they always seem to miss the point a little bit and leave me more confused than anything. They have the one ad where a friend is giving a testimonial about pot’s influence on her former friend. On the verge of tears and in an obvious fit of misery she explains, “Jody started smoking pot and…she started spending so much time by herself. She started staying home all the time and… wouldn’t hang out with us anymore.” This is very touching and I’m sure some can relate to parts of it but come on, really? Nobody gets into smoking pot by lighting up by themselves at their parents house. Maybe they were just bad friends. Maybe she never wanted to hang out with them in the first place and it took a few tokes for her to just say, in softer terms, screw it. That’s what authority figures say pot does. It just makes you start saying screw it to showers and haircuts and parents and condoms. Maybe she now had new friends who weren’t afraid to smoke a little cheeba with her once in a while and they weren’t constantly nagging her in a half-crying voice to come hang out.
That is why the anti-drug campaigns are always a little bit off; “Just say no” doesn’t work but the hard part about advocating a different course of action is that by doing so you are, to a certain extent, advocating the use of substances. This issue pertains to alcohol education too. CNN.com recently ran an article about Stanton Peele, the author of “Addiction-Proof Your Child.” His perspective is that “any program that tells kids flatly not to drink creates temptation.” It is a natural phenomenon that people want what they can’t have.
The Libertarian Party takes the issue even further. They are pushing for the end to all drug prohibition. They say that it does more harm than good and is the cause of a lot of unneeded violence. Just like all other pro-drug voices they use the example of alcohol prohibition and how there was a significantly elevated crime rate during that time. They say another facet of the problem is that since drugs are illegal the cost is inflated and this causes users to have to commit crimes in order to support their habits. This not only creates danger for citizens but means that a significant amount of police resources are devoted to alleviating the problem. While they represent an extreme and radical end of the spectrum, they do give food for thought.
I really don’t know what the overall solution is but what’s currently being done is not working. Look around you, drinking and smoking is everywhere and nothing that has been done to attempt to curb the use of these vices has worked with much effectiveness. All these ads talk about being, “above the influence” but I feel like that implies a general avoidance of the subject. Let’s talk about the influence and discuss the influence and reach a compromise regarding the influence that doesn’t involve taking advice from animals.
Monday, October 1, 2007
Sober Thoughts
Here’s a fun game: Use huskymail (UConn's e-mail service) to write a friend overseas and then go down to the post office and mail a letter to that same person and see which one arrives first.
I was in Walgreens and one of the medicines claimed to control the “symptoms” of diarrhea. What is a symptom of diarrhea- the presence of Mexican food?
While we’re on the subject, I’d like to mention that Taco Bell is very similar to child birth. Both inflict so much pain on your body but also bring so much joy to your life, or so I’ve heard. My mom probably prefers Taco Bell.
Do you think anybody goes to see the Oprah Show just for the free giveaways?
Do the UConn football players sit with bibs and lobster crackers trying to extract the meat from the shell of the lobster served at their new complex or does it come already prepared for them?
Has anyone seen the new Abercrombie “I just got in a severe accident with a paint truck” line of clothing? While we are on this subject, is there a machine whose specific purpose is ripping Abercrombie’s clothing but ripping it in a way that makes it look like it had been done through rigorous physical labor or a low level natural disaster?
Why do I hate the name Delilah?
Have you ever met anyone with the name Delilah?
An ad asked me yesterday if I was looking for a “fast, risk-free way to lose weight.” No, I’m looking for something a little more time consuming and preferably life-threatening.
What is the chain of events that leads someone to utter the words “I’m here for the male cheerleading tryouts?” I think the only thing worse than being on the male cheerleading team is getting cut from the male cheerleading team.
Rule Number 89: Your shirt can’t be wittier than you are.
Are exit signs in classrooms really necessary? If an individual can’t find the door in an emergency do we really WANT him or her to find the door?
I think text messaging officially became acceptable when Jack Nicholson was shown doing it in The Departed.
There is making sacrifices in the name of fashion and there is wearing jeans on an 80 degree day- some people just go that extra yard, even if that yard includes heat stroke.
I flipped by that Newport Beach show on MTV about the attractive high school kids who are all trying to have sex with each other and I was amused to note that I resembled one of the guys. How do you tell your friends that you think you kind of resemble someone that is said to be attractive with out looking like a narcissistic, self-absorbed loser. I guess the best answer is that I shouldn’t be watching the show to begin with.
I don’t know how to react to a wink.
I’m a senior and I still have not figured out what the proper “bus-stop-cord” etiquette is.
Is it weird that I want to take Viagra just to attempt to get a four hour erection?
It’s amazing that the three things that have had the most influence on the television industry in the last ten years have been TIVO, HDTV and Janet Jackson’s nipple.
Do you ever find yourself unintentionally wishing bad things on other people for personal gain? Such as, hoping your teacher gets in a horrible car accident that makes him unable to make it to class but that he does have a full recovery. Me neither.
Justin Timberlake is so Now.
Did anyone feel that when “Man vs. Wild’s” Bear Grylls was proven a phony it was like being told that Barry Bonds used steroids to hit 71 home runs at age 37. (Wait a second…You mean Bear didn’t really cut down dozens of trees with his pocket knife and then bind them together using only reeds in order to make a raft that would allow him to sail off a deserted island? Really?)
On a side not, it was too good to be true that the seemingly manliest human alive was named Bear. That was stretching it right there.
Ever have a teacher say to you, “You know back in my day we didn’t have these fancy computers to do all the work for us?” How are we supposed to respond to this? Hold them and rub their back while they quietly sob. Is their goal to remind us that technology tends to improve every once in a while? These are the times when I need my life coach with me for guidance.
A textbook costs me 160 dollars and then I stay up all night reading it to prepare for a test consequently making me all strung out and awful to be around and causing me to be afraid to call my parents because of the state I am in. I’ve heard that for much a much cheaper price, cocaine will have all the same effects except be a whole lot more fun.
What sort of thank you gift do you get for a friend who sucked venom from your snake bite?
Reason No. 437 why my roommates and I shouldn’t be living without a chaperone: the presence of paper towel next to the “oval office” because the toilet paper had run out.
People I’d like to meet in an empty room with a baseball bat: Norman Chad, Wendy Williams, Skip Bayless.
Finally, this weeks TV idea: I think that if there was a Wedding Channel that just played ceremonies of all different types women would flock to it like it was a free showing of “Sleepless in Seattle.” There could be commentators making catty observations about the bridesmaids and the general set up of the service. It would also have a sidebar that gives statistics so when the bride is walking down the aisle it would run the graphic showing that, at this point, brides only run about 2.3% of the time and the reason is usually the groom’s looks.
I was in Walgreens and one of the medicines claimed to control the “symptoms” of diarrhea. What is a symptom of diarrhea- the presence of Mexican food?
While we’re on the subject, I’d like to mention that Taco Bell is very similar to child birth. Both inflict so much pain on your body but also bring so much joy to your life, or so I’ve heard. My mom probably prefers Taco Bell.
Do you think anybody goes to see the Oprah Show just for the free giveaways?
Do the UConn football players sit with bibs and lobster crackers trying to extract the meat from the shell of the lobster served at their new complex or does it come already prepared for them?
Has anyone seen the new Abercrombie “I just got in a severe accident with a paint truck” line of clothing? While we are on this subject, is there a machine whose specific purpose is ripping Abercrombie’s clothing but ripping it in a way that makes it look like it had been done through rigorous physical labor or a low level natural disaster?
Why do I hate the name Delilah?
Have you ever met anyone with the name Delilah?
An ad asked me yesterday if I was looking for a “fast, risk-free way to lose weight.” No, I’m looking for something a little more time consuming and preferably life-threatening.
What is the chain of events that leads someone to utter the words “I’m here for the male cheerleading tryouts?” I think the only thing worse than being on the male cheerleading team is getting cut from the male cheerleading team.
Rule Number 89: Your shirt can’t be wittier than you are.
Are exit signs in classrooms really necessary? If an individual can’t find the door in an emergency do we really WANT him or her to find the door?
I think text messaging officially became acceptable when Jack Nicholson was shown doing it in The Departed.
There is making sacrifices in the name of fashion and there is wearing jeans on an 80 degree day- some people just go that extra yard, even if that yard includes heat stroke.
I flipped by that Newport Beach show on MTV about the attractive high school kids who are all trying to have sex with each other and I was amused to note that I resembled one of the guys. How do you tell your friends that you think you kind of resemble someone that is said to be attractive with out looking like a narcissistic, self-absorbed loser. I guess the best answer is that I shouldn’t be watching the show to begin with.
I don’t know how to react to a wink.
I’m a senior and I still have not figured out what the proper “bus-stop-cord” etiquette is.
Is it weird that I want to take Viagra just to attempt to get a four hour erection?
It’s amazing that the three things that have had the most influence on the television industry in the last ten years have been TIVO, HDTV and Janet Jackson’s nipple.
Do you ever find yourself unintentionally wishing bad things on other people for personal gain? Such as, hoping your teacher gets in a horrible car accident that makes him unable to make it to class but that he does have a full recovery. Me neither.
Justin Timberlake is so Now.
Did anyone feel that when “Man vs. Wild’s” Bear Grylls was proven a phony it was like being told that Barry Bonds used steroids to hit 71 home runs at age 37. (Wait a second…You mean Bear didn’t really cut down dozens of trees with his pocket knife and then bind them together using only reeds in order to make a raft that would allow him to sail off a deserted island? Really?)
On a side not, it was too good to be true that the seemingly manliest human alive was named Bear. That was stretching it right there.
Ever have a teacher say to you, “You know back in my day we didn’t have these fancy computers to do all the work for us?” How are we supposed to respond to this? Hold them and rub their back while they quietly sob. Is their goal to remind us that technology tends to improve every once in a while? These are the times when I need my life coach with me for guidance.
A textbook costs me 160 dollars and then I stay up all night reading it to prepare for a test consequently making me all strung out and awful to be around and causing me to be afraid to call my parents because of the state I am in. I’ve heard that for much a much cheaper price, cocaine will have all the same effects except be a whole lot more fun.
What sort of thank you gift do you get for a friend who sucked venom from your snake bite?
Reason No. 437 why my roommates and I shouldn’t be living without a chaperone: the presence of paper towel next to the “oval office” because the toilet paper had run out.
People I’d like to meet in an empty room with a baseball bat: Norman Chad, Wendy Williams, Skip Bayless.
Finally, this weeks TV idea: I think that if there was a Wedding Channel that just played ceremonies of all different types women would flock to it like it was a free showing of “Sleepless in Seattle.” There could be commentators making catty observations about the bridesmaids and the general set up of the service. It would also have a sidebar that gives statistics so when the bride is walking down the aisle it would run the graphic showing that, at this point, brides only run about 2.3% of the time and the reason is usually the groom’s looks.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Great Wall of Carriage Poorly Thought Out
(Non-UConn readers might be a little confused here, but they have been issuing harsh regulations at an off-campusing housing complex that is the main area for parties)
By now everyone has either seen or heard of the Great Wall of Carriage that’s been erected outside the off-campus apartments. (Personally, I like the touch of yellow across the top that makes it look like the outfield wall of a rudimentary baseball field.) Additionally, the owners of the complex, in cooperation with the school and local authorities, have enacted a slew of bylaws aimed at supervising the community in a more manageable way. These measures include, among others, the aforementioned fence, the issuing of ID’s to residents and hiring a CA-type person to patrol the area on various nights. They don’t yet have helicopters looking for underage drinkers but I’ll be bringing it up at the next meeting.
An air of controversy has arisen amid the student body as it’s debatable whether these actions go too far and violate rights. In reality it is hard to fault the police or the school- their overall objective is just to keep us safe. It’s just like when you’re living at home. Whether you’re going out for the night or going to get the mail, your parents worry about you. My mother would stay up until I returned home no matter what hour I walked through the door. Even if I felt she went too far sometimes and was a bit overbearing, I could never fault her for any of her actions because her basic aim was to keep me alive.
The authorities around here can be looked at in the same light. I assume they just want to provide a safe community where cars stay upright and couches are used as furniture rather than kindling. But while it is understandable that they want to keep the student body out of harm, it’s hard to discern what they envision as their end result.
It appears that Carriage is seen as an unfettered orgy of overindulgent drinking and acrimonious violence that rivals a Hell’s Angels motorcycle rally or Woodstock crossed with a prison riot. This general wickedness scares people and, combined with the unfortunate stories that have recently shook the community, has shaped the pressure to further regulate the area. The fact of the matter is that Carriage is where, as the kids say today, “it all goes down.” The issue is that when designing a system of restraint there needs to be a practical goal.
Right now it seems that the “adults” quixotic ambition is to curb all illegal drinking activities whether its underage kids imbibing or making a beer pong shot with their elbow over the table. I live in Celeron and right after school started an officer visited every apartment building accompanied by ambassadors from UConn’s Student Services Department in order to lay down some general guidelines. Along with the other common drivel, their main sentiment was that they wanted to convince the student body that Carriage and Celeron is not Party Central because right now the community compares its stability and volatility to the Baghdad region.
This is all good and fine but while some might like to deny it, or at least try to avoid it, the truth is that this is a University and college students are an interesting animal. So far, what we know about the species is that they react very favorably to alcoholic beverages. They also like to congregate with other members of their kind in order to look for potential mates and play certain games that involve both potential mates and alcoholic beverages. They refer to these gatherings as parties or, colloquially, as ragers. Furthermore, it has been proven that nothing will stop these get-togethers, be it CA’s, cops or class five hurricanes. Research shows that the location doesn’t matter either. They have been seen assembling on lawns, in dorm rooms, bars and even parking lots.
Those who frequent the Discovery Channel know that when an animal’s habitat is destroyed they attempt to find another place to live and go about their business. If the Celeron and Carriage area gets tranquillized then a new hot spot will develop. The school is not going to eliminate social gatherings- it’s an impractical proposal. This is where the serious problem arises. Carriage and Celeron are within walking distance to campus as students usually take the infamous trail out there to get their partying fix. If the festivities begin to take place in other areas they will invariably be farther away from campus. This adds a whole new dynamic as students will secure transportation and this brings drinking and driving in to the equation.
Right now the school is taking these measures because they want to protect us from ourselves. They realize that being young and immature we tend to make decisions that can have fatal impacts. So what is to say that we won’t make these decisions when the parties move farther away? The current actions will only magnify the situation rather than mediate it.
This all harks back to my main point that the overall goal needs to be feasible. Right now it seems like they are looking for the metaphorical equivalent to world peace. While that sounds enchanting and might win points at a beauty pageant, there has to be a more amicable solution. Spring weekend is always a free-for-all each year but the last couple has gotten rave reviews for the way they have played out. The law keeps a keen eye out for trouble, but lets the parties take their course for the majority of the night. They set up an assortment of road blocks to look for drunk drivers, but they leave walkers alone as long as they aren’t clubbing other undergraduates or taking naps in wooded areas. Sure they bus in a lot more cops, but that is also because there are a lot more people. I think we will find our solution closer to this scenario rather than turning the Carriage district into a detention facility.
By now everyone has either seen or heard of the Great Wall of Carriage that’s been erected outside the off-campus apartments. (Personally, I like the touch of yellow across the top that makes it look like the outfield wall of a rudimentary baseball field.) Additionally, the owners of the complex, in cooperation with the school and local authorities, have enacted a slew of bylaws aimed at supervising the community in a more manageable way. These measures include, among others, the aforementioned fence, the issuing of ID’s to residents and hiring a CA-type person to patrol the area on various nights. They don’t yet have helicopters looking for underage drinkers but I’ll be bringing it up at the next meeting.
An air of controversy has arisen amid the student body as it’s debatable whether these actions go too far and violate rights. In reality it is hard to fault the police or the school- their overall objective is just to keep us safe. It’s just like when you’re living at home. Whether you’re going out for the night or going to get the mail, your parents worry about you. My mother would stay up until I returned home no matter what hour I walked through the door. Even if I felt she went too far sometimes and was a bit overbearing, I could never fault her for any of her actions because her basic aim was to keep me alive.
The authorities around here can be looked at in the same light. I assume they just want to provide a safe community where cars stay upright and couches are used as furniture rather than kindling. But while it is understandable that they want to keep the student body out of harm, it’s hard to discern what they envision as their end result.
It appears that Carriage is seen as an unfettered orgy of overindulgent drinking and acrimonious violence that rivals a Hell’s Angels motorcycle rally or Woodstock crossed with a prison riot. This general wickedness scares people and, combined with the unfortunate stories that have recently shook the community, has shaped the pressure to further regulate the area. The fact of the matter is that Carriage is where, as the kids say today, “it all goes down.” The issue is that when designing a system of restraint there needs to be a practical goal.
Right now it seems that the “adults” quixotic ambition is to curb all illegal drinking activities whether its underage kids imbibing or making a beer pong shot with their elbow over the table. I live in Celeron and right after school started an officer visited every apartment building accompanied by ambassadors from UConn’s Student Services Department in order to lay down some general guidelines. Along with the other common drivel, their main sentiment was that they wanted to convince the student body that Carriage and Celeron is not Party Central because right now the community compares its stability and volatility to the Baghdad region.
This is all good and fine but while some might like to deny it, or at least try to avoid it, the truth is that this is a University and college students are an interesting animal. So far, what we know about the species is that they react very favorably to alcoholic beverages. They also like to congregate with other members of their kind in order to look for potential mates and play certain games that involve both potential mates and alcoholic beverages. They refer to these gatherings as parties or, colloquially, as ragers. Furthermore, it has been proven that nothing will stop these get-togethers, be it CA’s, cops or class five hurricanes. Research shows that the location doesn’t matter either. They have been seen assembling on lawns, in dorm rooms, bars and even parking lots.
Those who frequent the Discovery Channel know that when an animal’s habitat is destroyed they attempt to find another place to live and go about their business. If the Celeron and Carriage area gets tranquillized then a new hot spot will develop. The school is not going to eliminate social gatherings- it’s an impractical proposal. This is where the serious problem arises. Carriage and Celeron are within walking distance to campus as students usually take the infamous trail out there to get their partying fix. If the festivities begin to take place in other areas they will invariably be farther away from campus. This adds a whole new dynamic as students will secure transportation and this brings drinking and driving in to the equation.
Right now the school is taking these measures because they want to protect us from ourselves. They realize that being young and immature we tend to make decisions that can have fatal impacts. So what is to say that we won’t make these decisions when the parties move farther away? The current actions will only magnify the situation rather than mediate it.
This all harks back to my main point that the overall goal needs to be feasible. Right now it seems like they are looking for the metaphorical equivalent to world peace. While that sounds enchanting and might win points at a beauty pageant, there has to be a more amicable solution. Spring weekend is always a free-for-all each year but the last couple has gotten rave reviews for the way they have played out. The law keeps a keen eye out for trouble, but lets the parties take their course for the majority of the night. They set up an assortment of road blocks to look for drunk drivers, but they leave walkers alone as long as they aren’t clubbing other undergraduates or taking naps in wooded areas. Sure they bus in a lot more cops, but that is also because there are a lot more people. I think we will find our solution closer to this scenario rather than turning the Carriage district into a detention facility.
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Perverse Times With Twisted Politicos
While watching CNN this morning I caught a fiery lecture by President Bush concerning the definition of evil. Apparently he had discovered a dictionary lying around and wanted to publicize the fact that he had opened it. “It can be used as an adjective, noun or even an adverb” he yelled. “And it has two syllables. No further questions.” The only issue was that he pronounced syllables like “cymbals.”
Well, I guess that isn’t exactly what he said. (In aim of honest journalism I will admit that everything but the first sentence in that paragraph was made up, but those of you who couldn’t realize that have other issues to deal with). It was early in the morning and I hadn’t had my coffee yet but the gist of his thesis on evil was that it was a bad thing and we needed to rid the world of “evildoers.” He really did say evildoers; that one I am not making up. But it then dawned on me- bush sees himself as a superhero. He really does. People say that he appears to have a child-like enthusiasm when he speaks and I think he has a child-like approach to his presidency. He’s fighting a war because of what “the bad men” did to his “daddy” and he imagines that he’s a superhero in doing so. Next thing we know he will be giving speeches in capes and running off to phone booths whenever the terror alert is elevated. I’m surprised he hasn’t started to wear glasses so that he could take them off when evil strikes.
Evil doesn’t scare me. Bush’s motivational orations given in the manner of William Wallace don’t scare me- as much as it does entertain me. What does send panic coursing through my veins are hormone crazed politicians running around the capitol without any self-control. The latest to be acknowledged publicly is Sen. Larry Craig, R-Idaho, who recently pleaded guilty to a charge of lewd conduct. It finally caught the savage media’s eye that he readily admitted being accountable for the criminal activity he was accused of and he’s begun to attempt his swiftest back peddle but his whole situation is transparent.
He is now arguing that he only entered a guilty plea because he wanted to accelerate the process and put it behind him. Additionally, he claims that the officer got the wrong idea about his actions. He released a statement saying, “At the time of this incident, I complained to the police that they were misconstruing my actions. I was not involved in any inappropriate conduct. I should have had the advice of counsel in resolving this matter. In hindsight, I should not have pled guilty. I was trying to handle this matter myself quickly and expeditiously.”
The alleged Lawmaker was arrested in a stall at the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport by a police officer who was there checking out the validity behind claims that these lavatories were turning into the bath houses of the Midwest. Apparently they were a notorious meeting place for people whose sexual escapades must be conducted in public restrooms. The officer was sitting on the can, mid-stake out (which is not really how they portray it in the movies), as he watched Craig peek into his compartment and make several gestures indicating what he wanted to go down and then he sat on the throne next to him. Craig then tapped his foot underneath the divider separating the two and this astute member of the law enforcement agency referred to his handbook and recognized this “as a signal used by persons wishing to engage in lewd conduct.” As if the taping wasn’t enough, Craig then touched this brave soldier’s foot with his shoe and then "proceeded to swipe his hand under the stall divider several times.”
I’m not really sure what to say about this whole situation. On face it doesn’t seem like the Senator did too much. He was just looking for a little human contact while he relieved himself. He even said that "he has a wide stance when going to the bathroom." But while he very well may be a “gripper and ripper” the fact that he was in a place known for freak sexual acts and abnormal fetishes makes it just a bit suspicious. That he was making gestures normally used by those who would like to partake in such activities is even more condemning and then the fact that he actually plead guilty to the charge is, well, the definition of condemnation.
His motives behind not fighting the charge could vary. He could have been trying to just keep himself out of the limelight. If he had challenged the charges an investigation would have ensued that surely would have made headlines earlier than this story and at that point all the facts would have been marched through a courtroom. Instead he got his case quickly off the docket and now we are left with just reports to sift through for truth.
Maybe he really was innocent- as far from the truth as that sounds. The sentence was only a small fine but it’s still hard to get away from the reality that he had to have known this would have surfaced at some point and he was going to look bad no matter what came forward. Honestly, I don’t really care about the truth. I don’t know if I could handle the truth. What I do know is that guilty or not guilty, he was involved in a very sketchy situation that involved some very shady sexual intentions. What is even more distressing is that he is not the first national politician to be caught up in a scandal of this ilk.
More and more it seems like Congress is a brotherhood of sexual deviants and social miscreants with desires that can only be satiated in airport bathrooms and by young interns. This isn’t even the first time Craig has been fingered (no pun intended) as possibly having an unusual hobby. According to a New York Times article, in 1982, Craig had to deny rumors “that he was under investigation as part of a federal probe into allegations that lawmakers on Capitol Hill had sexual relationships with congressional pages.” The page theme carried through to the Mark Foley scandal that was the flavor of the month earlier this year. In a whole separate matter, Senator David Vitter was implicated when authorities turned up his phone number in the records of an escort service that is alleged to deliver more promiscuous ladies of the night.
This is what scares me- that we could have a government that is known for being a pack of sex freaks and weirdoes. These are the people who are making the decisions in our country and it’s going to get to the point where we are going to assume that when they are not filibustering or writing constitutions they are off at highway rest stops meeting friends. The stereotype of a politician being “dirty” has always been prevalent but this takes it to another level. I guess it’s only a matter of time before one of them appears on “To Catch a Predator.”
Well, I guess that isn’t exactly what he said. (In aim of honest journalism I will admit that everything but the first sentence in that paragraph was made up, but those of you who couldn’t realize that have other issues to deal with). It was early in the morning and I hadn’t had my coffee yet but the gist of his thesis on evil was that it was a bad thing and we needed to rid the world of “evildoers.” He really did say evildoers; that one I am not making up. But it then dawned on me- bush sees himself as a superhero. He really does. People say that he appears to have a child-like enthusiasm when he speaks and I think he has a child-like approach to his presidency. He’s fighting a war because of what “the bad men” did to his “daddy” and he imagines that he’s a superhero in doing so. Next thing we know he will be giving speeches in capes and running off to phone booths whenever the terror alert is elevated. I’m surprised he hasn’t started to wear glasses so that he could take them off when evil strikes.
Evil doesn’t scare me. Bush’s motivational orations given in the manner of William Wallace don’t scare me- as much as it does entertain me. What does send panic coursing through my veins are hormone crazed politicians running around the capitol without any self-control. The latest to be acknowledged publicly is Sen. Larry Craig, R-Idaho, who recently pleaded guilty to a charge of lewd conduct. It finally caught the savage media’s eye that he readily admitted being accountable for the criminal activity he was accused of and he’s begun to attempt his swiftest back peddle but his whole situation is transparent.
He is now arguing that he only entered a guilty plea because he wanted to accelerate the process and put it behind him. Additionally, he claims that the officer got the wrong idea about his actions. He released a statement saying, “At the time of this incident, I complained to the police that they were misconstruing my actions. I was not involved in any inappropriate conduct. I should have had the advice of counsel in resolving this matter. In hindsight, I should not have pled guilty. I was trying to handle this matter myself quickly and expeditiously.”
The alleged Lawmaker was arrested in a stall at the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport by a police officer who was there checking out the validity behind claims that these lavatories were turning into the bath houses of the Midwest. Apparently they were a notorious meeting place for people whose sexual escapades must be conducted in public restrooms. The officer was sitting on the can, mid-stake out (which is not really how they portray it in the movies), as he watched Craig peek into his compartment and make several gestures indicating what he wanted to go down and then he sat on the throne next to him. Craig then tapped his foot underneath the divider separating the two and this astute member of the law enforcement agency referred to his handbook and recognized this “as a signal used by persons wishing to engage in lewd conduct.” As if the taping wasn’t enough, Craig then touched this brave soldier’s foot with his shoe and then "proceeded to swipe his hand under the stall divider several times.”
I’m not really sure what to say about this whole situation. On face it doesn’t seem like the Senator did too much. He was just looking for a little human contact while he relieved himself. He even said that "he has a wide stance when going to the bathroom." But while he very well may be a “gripper and ripper” the fact that he was in a place known for freak sexual acts and abnormal fetishes makes it just a bit suspicious. That he was making gestures normally used by those who would like to partake in such activities is even more condemning and then the fact that he actually plead guilty to the charge is, well, the definition of condemnation.
His motives behind not fighting the charge could vary. He could have been trying to just keep himself out of the limelight. If he had challenged the charges an investigation would have ensued that surely would have made headlines earlier than this story and at that point all the facts would have been marched through a courtroom. Instead he got his case quickly off the docket and now we are left with just reports to sift through for truth.
Maybe he really was innocent- as far from the truth as that sounds. The sentence was only a small fine but it’s still hard to get away from the reality that he had to have known this would have surfaced at some point and he was going to look bad no matter what came forward. Honestly, I don’t really care about the truth. I don’t know if I could handle the truth. What I do know is that guilty or not guilty, he was involved in a very sketchy situation that involved some very shady sexual intentions. What is even more distressing is that he is not the first national politician to be caught up in a scandal of this ilk.
More and more it seems like Congress is a brotherhood of sexual deviants and social miscreants with desires that can only be satiated in airport bathrooms and by young interns. This isn’t even the first time Craig has been fingered (no pun intended) as possibly having an unusual hobby. According to a New York Times article, in 1982, Craig had to deny rumors “that he was under investigation as part of a federal probe into allegations that lawmakers on Capitol Hill had sexual relationships with congressional pages.” The page theme carried through to the Mark Foley scandal that was the flavor of the month earlier this year. In a whole separate matter, Senator David Vitter was implicated when authorities turned up his phone number in the records of an escort service that is alleged to deliver more promiscuous ladies of the night.
This is what scares me- that we could have a government that is known for being a pack of sex freaks and weirdoes. These are the people who are making the decisions in our country and it’s going to get to the point where we are going to assume that when they are not filibustering or writing constitutions they are off at highway rest stops meeting friends. The stereotype of a politician being “dirty” has always been prevalent but this takes it to another level. I guess it’s only a matter of time before one of them appears on “To Catch a Predator.”
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)