Category Archives: people

04/22/13

Freedom Trail

If you’ve ever been to Boston you’ve probably been forced to walk, likely by a mom or wife, some portion of the “Freedom Trail” against your will. You have to wonder why one must abandon so much self determination to walk a trail named “freedom” but, anyway. The Freedom Trail is, of course, a walking tour of Boston’s historic sites, where I’m proud to say I had a pair of Stan Smith’s re-cobbled only a few years ago. I also had a bracelet smithed out of a soup spoon.

Liberty is a type of collusion. An agreement among everyone to respect the rule of law in service of freedom. It’s completely voluntary.

Collusions, however, are easily broken. In fact, there is extraordinarily high incentive to do so. Our susceptibility to violence, therefore, is evidence of how well and complete the collusion of our liberty is working. We’re easy pickings. When an assailant from within or without violates the contract — the agreement not to fall into anarchy — they exact from us a cost. A toll for being so free, so open, so liberated. Our martyrs, whether at a marathon or in an elementary school or on a skyscraper, are a kind of penance paid to democracy and inalienable rights. Like a soldier or revolutionary, when we are murdered exercising our freedoms, even ones as routine as a road race, it is literally a kind of patriotic act. Every mundane act of our lives is a declaration that we would be free in spite of the ongoing danger to do so.

They’ll run again next year. A marathon and a freedom trail.

Performed by ipoetlaureate. Music produced by juiceboxjackson.

Today’s blong here:

Pronation

03/13/13

The Best Pope Ever

I know something about lifetime appointments. Nearly all my “bosses” have one.

Life tenure is necessary to insulate certain kinds of authority from external and political pressures. An island of objectivity.

But, pardon me for stating the obvious but a “lifetime” is a really long time. Through age and illness and general decomposition, we all become less capable in time. There’s no universal expiration date, of course. I’m only in my thirties and I can’t even remember the members of New Edition. Bobby, Johnny, . . . err . . . For some, an S&S Cafeteria cottage cheese & pear salad palate, however, develops not until their sixties or seventies. And, yet for others, they continue sharp and spry well into their nineties. But, at some point our faculties fail us. And, when they do, a lifetime appointment can become a quite less virtuous thing, especially for those who may be subject to this frozen but decliningly capable authority.

Self awareness is uncommon. Especially, when the nature of the position held disallows or strongly discourages any critique. Judges and Popes come to mind.

When Pope Benedict XVI announced his retirement for health concerns, I privately called shenanigans. I felt certain there was an underlying scandal or political motive. Especially considering the longstanding allegations that Pope Benedict may have been party to covering up various sexual abuse prior to his papacy.

But, then I asked myself, “Why so cynical?” That’s the sort of dignity and self-examination I would like to end with. Instead of carrying on, where he can’t or allowing a kind of puppet regime to continue, he abdicates. It’s a rare thing. He’s the Pope. Of God. Until his last breath to be venerated. And, yet he recognized his own frailties and had more respect for the high calling of his authority maybe than any before him — to let it go.

The whole thing reminds me of this classic Jim Gaffigan bit where he imagines just a regular boy dreaming of one day being Pope, as though he were dreaming to be just some regular demagogue, say Joe DiMaggio.

Pantamiming to the roar of a feigned crowd, with the play-by-play announcer, “The Best. Pope. Evvvver!”

Maybe, in his resignation, Benedict was.

Performed by ipoetlaureate. Music produced by Dave Santos.

Today’s blong here:

Have to Fail

02/13/13

Through the Woods

My dad was career FBI. But before he joined the Bureau he was a beat cop in Bessemer, Alabama, a small town outside Birmingham, and famously Bo Jackson’s hometown. (My dad was also rumored to have dunked a stick in the 7th grade . . . in a cup of coffee.)

My mom was regularly asked about whether she feared for my father while he was working bank robberies or hijackings or kidnappings as a federal agent. She always said no. For her, the element of surprise and uncertainty inherent in the work-a-day demands of a street cop were far more dangerous than the relatively informed and prepared investigatory work of an FBI agent. When an agent walks in on a suspect, they typically know everything. A cop is almost completely blind.

No matter your view of them, police officers perform a terrifying service. I think we underestimate, severely, the nerves that we might feel just approaching a Toyota Sierra (an admittedly horrifying vehicle) on a traffic stop, much less an IROC-Z after a car chase or a domestic dispute on a house call. So when cops find themselves facing real weapons and real bad guys on real drugs down dark alleys, the emotional energy must be off the charts.

There are a lot of bad, invidious reasons for police brutality. And, it sounds like Chris Dorner was possibly the latest, in a long line, blowing the whistle on LAPD. But, as we rightly condemn it, we should also try and understand. I know its their job, but I have always imagined that if I were quelling a prison riot or taking down a suspect, I, too, might be a little more preemptive and a little more excessive with my force than the moment might objectively require. Hit him before he hits you, sort of thing. Not an excuse. Just an explanation.

So the last thing a cop needs, on top of every other kind of danger and assault posed against him, is one of his own, another cop, trying to take him down.

So, even if Dorner had cause to accuse, he never had it to kill.

And by the way, the answer to today’s question is (a) villain. Just so I’m clear.

white cabin

Performed by ipoetlaureate. Music produced by juiceboxjackson.

Today’s blong here:

Manhunt

01/30/13

Deer Blind

For those of you who don’t own any camouflage, wooden duck calls, or lawn gnomes, a deer blind is a kind of small, single or double occupancy, hunting shelter, typically elevated, that disguises the gunman from Bambi. I guess the simple advantage of a long-range firearm and scope is apparently not enough imbalance in the transaction.

It’s also what we are, apparently. Deer blind.

Because, if the Deer Antler Spray Bowl doesn’t convince you that GMAs (Genetically Modified Athletes (trademark pending)) are the future, I don’t know what will. I actually think the clinical term is “Antler Velvet Liposomal.” It sounds like a Belk cologne. Or maybe a delicious cake.

Deer-Antler-Spray-IGF-1-spray

Ray Lewis, the Baltimore Ravens pro-bowl linebacker, is alleged to have sprayed a deer antler hardener under his tongue to accelerate the recovery of his torn triceps, as well as drunk negatively charged water and maybe re-eaten his own once-digested ear wax. It doesn’t matter whether or not he actually did. Even that the idea might have materialized in someone else’s mind just for the purposes of falsely accusing him of it is enough lunacy to prove the point. Athletes, and the scientists and handlers that would cater to their success, will do anything to gain competitive advantage. Witches brew, monkey brain, water aerobics. (Don’t laugh. The Y has a brutal class.) But, as it turns out Deer Antler spray might be rampant, one of those industry secrets for which the rest of us are just now getting a late pass.

So we can either continue deer blind, so to speak, or we can accept that so long as there are people running and jumping and tackling each other there are going to be people injecting animal parts into their human parts. I mean, surely it’s one of the Seven Seals or Bowls of the Biblical Tribulation that the demure and gentlemenly Vijay Singh, of all people, is quoted as saying something to the effect: “I didn’t know that antler extract was banned.” Whhaaat?? Vijay’s on the antler sauce?

I’m just telling you. This is a no win deal. But, if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em, I think the saying goes. So, for today’s blong, I’ve detailed my recommendations for staying in peak competitive form, well into your early 90s. Now, you might grow a lion’s mane and a small schnauzer tail but you’ll be able to dominate neighborhood H.O.R.S.E for years to come. Your fingernails might fall out as well. But, you’ll be able to throw your curbside trash can 150 yards. You’ll have no elbows. But, you’ll do 500 pushups at at a time — with your tongue. You’ll smell like panda. But, your teeth will win an olympic medal in three events. You’ll grow wings and a scorpion stinger.

Performed by ipoetlaureate. Music produced by djclutch.

Today’s blong here:

Deer Blind

01/21/13

The Truth About Te’o

People have suggested that Manti Te’o must either be the perpetrator of a disgusting hoax or supremely dumb.

Numerous pundits, including the likes of Stephen A. Smith and Colin Cowherd, have said that it’s inconceivable that a red-blooded, alpha male, Division I athlete could ever carry on a serious relationship almost exclusively online or by telephone. That you would never profess “love” for a woman you never did, or could have, touched.

But, there is a third possibility.

It hit me while watching the same interview, from early last fall, that the networks run to expose him. And, I understand how it might have been easy to miss because he’s tough and has a tattoo of a Mayan hockey rink on his bicep and plays like a wild barbarian. But, I recognized it immediately in the innocent way he described his affection for her.

See, Te’o is Mormon. And, it’s already been suggested in delicate ways that he might have been less than socially or relationally sophisticated. But, children of devout Mormon and extreme evangelical families can develop a deep psychological inhibition to sexual activity even as they’re subject to the same natural impulses as their peers. It’s not necessarily naivete but a kind of personal reticence. I recognize it in Te’o, as unlikely as his popularity and image might suggest.

Importantly, this is different than being gullible or just dumb. Such inhibition would allow a kid like Te’o to be comfortable with a long distance relationship over a period of time where others would demand more. It would actually relieve that angst for him. At the same time, it would make him more susceptible to catfishing because he would not insist, as quickly, on the same physical evidence, so to speak, that in-person interaction would provide and that essentially every person with a chin-strap and testicles would require.

And precisely for this awkwardness, he certainly might have been unduly energized by any media attention that took this otherwise stunted relationship seriously. So, you get what appears to be an exaggerated expression of love when in truth it’s probably about as serious as he’s had.

I, obviously, don’t know — about his personal religious conviction or virginity or dating history. For all I know, he might be a Don Juan.

But, I see and suspect something I personally recognize. It’s a real phenomenon whether Te’o fits the diagnosis or not.

I guess you could say that I know the feeling.

UPDATE: TheRapUp.net has picked up on my song today.

Manti Te'o, Jeremy Schaap

Performed by ipoetlaureate. Music produced by juiceboxjackson.

Today’s blong here:

Catfisher of Men

01/19/13

Livedstrong

Watched all of part one. DVRed part deux. I have a lot of thoughts, most of which are in defense of Armstrong, and offensive, according to my wife. He strikes me as really despicable. I felt that way when he left his first wife. But, he has borne the full brunt of what is presently an intolerably toxic and corrupt culture of sport and doping in cycling. Human engineering is an inevitability, folks. I just wonder if in 100 years they are going to look back on us and laugh at our attempts to trip up an elephant herd.

One interesting note from the interview. Armstrong seemed to imply the effect George Hincapie’s participation, in the investigation against him, had. The only rider with Lance on all 7 tours and a dear friend. He also happens to be a neighbor of mine. As in he lives in Greenville, owns a bike shop here, and his parents lived in our previous neighborhood. Tall, sexy dude. Imagine Jude Law showing up at your Fall Festival with aviators and skinny jeans ready to buy a caramel apple and do the cake walk. Him and his comparably attractive wife were making small talk near the “jumpy house” with some of the other and unfamous parents, who were all dressed predictably in Dockers. I just had visions of one of my kids giving a swift knee to the groin on their descent down the inflatable iceberg slide.

lance-armstrong-george-hincapie

I’ve retread this blong a few times. Not sure the recent developments warrant an update. We’ll see.

Performed by ipoetlaureate. Music produced by djclutch.

Today’s song blog here:

Livestrong

01/8/13

Red Ryder Air Rifle

James Holmes has appeared for his preliminary hearing yesterday and today regarding charges that stem from alleged involvement in the Colorado shooting at a showing of The Dark Knight Rises.

These kinds of gun atrocities have not, and have largely never been, committed by the typically vilified criminal element of our inner city gangs or drug communities. They are committed almost exclusively by white, middle and lower-middle class, student-aged young people, suffering some mental illness.

So putting more guns nearer to this demographic, to wit, guns in schools or carried by teachers, exacerbates, not cures, the risk. At the same time, it also makes gun regulation less effective since so many times possession, in these circumstances, is secondarily or tertiarily obtained. Because of my strong constitutional, rather than personal, view on gun possession, I have been hesitant regarding gun control. And, notwithstanding the horror, they are, as a statistical matter, improbable, and represent, all other things together, less violence than society has historically borne. But precisely for the relative violence free lives we live, these sort of concentrated incidents of massacre are all the more impossible for our increasingly non-violent expectations/psyche to handle. And, because the safety we enjoy is at least in part the product of collusion — our collective agreement to obey the rule of law — the better we “collude” the more easy and effective is any one individual’s ability to break from that agreement and open fire on a group of people unarmed and psychologically unexpectant. This is a gun access problem. We can either try to make them less scarce or go wild west. There isn’t a happy medium.

A last constitutional note. Just because I’ve read the Federalist Papers too many times, I still respect the theoretical idea, upon which our own Declaration of Independence is grounded, that a government can make itself so illegitimate as to implicate its citizenry’s right to take up arms against it. It’s happening in Syria right now. And, of course, it is impossible to exercise such a right against an illegitimate sovereign if you yourself have been, as a matter of that same sovereign’s rule, disallowed weapon possession. This is why the Second Amendment exists. But, we are at a point, notwithstanding all manner of action packed one-man-army cinema, that even heavy assault rifles in the hands of citizens will be of only a minor annoyance to a government that can turn back in on itself the most sophisticated missile based and tactically trained military in the world. I’m not sure, therefore, that the Declaration’s notion in this regard can endure as a modern day justification for private gun possession as so many would cry. If our government has the will and political capital to beat us up, there aren’t enough assault rifles in West Virginia and my home state, South Carolina, to even put an eye out.

james holmes

Today’s blong is a retread from the original.

Performed by ipoetlaureate. Music produced by pumpkinFoot.

Today’s blong here:

Dark Night

12/15/12

Connecticut

Because we see our kids in yours.

For all your loss and pain, we are so very, sorry.

To the clever and compassionate administrators and teachers that educate and protect our children every day, often under difficult financial and political constraints, our deepest gratitude.

UPDATE: Apparently, Westboro Church plans to protest a Sandy Hook vigil. I’ve spoken my peace before.

Performed by ipoetlaureate. Music produced by djclutch.

Today’s song blog here:

Home Room

11/12/12

Dishonorable Discharge

Way to ring in Veterans’ Day, Patraeus.

I suffer this weird bipolarity with our military. I have had the luxury of becoming mostly pacifist. But, I also have this great guilt and reverence for their service. Much of my family has served honorably, even through the conflict in Iraq. And, as trite as it is true: we are free for their sacrifice.

And, so I’m rabidly in favor of veterans’ benefits. Precisely because we live in a time where some serve the interests of all, our indebtedness to them is incalcuable.

If I’m president for the day (and if roughly 64,023 federal employees die it could happen), then I would propose the following. If someone serves in our military, for even a minute, they would get everything. House, car, healthcare, food. Now it’ll be something like a 3 bedroom, Kia Zoom, and Hungary Jack. But, if you so choose, you wouldn’t ever have to lift a finger again.

Because, whether or not a soldier ever sees conflict in an actual theater of war, and whether or not he/she personally had any volitional “choice” in joining the military in the first instance, they were subjected to the potentiality of the highest risk of all:
their life lost.

They accepted that risk, in some sense or another, and went in my stead. Which is the critical point because there was no way in the world I was going. I have asthma and small capillaries. Any military base above about the 38° latitude, and I would have required especially designed glove wear. And, nobody wanted that.

So all the while, I’ve just been playing baseball and going to school and buying video games and starting a family and writing news raps and generally just loafing around. You know. The whole “rising and sleeping under the blanket of security” thing.

The Patraeus scandal is not a good lens through which to reflect on the contributions of our military. (Hopefully, he won’t commit the counterpart gesture to what this guy did, to win back his wife.)

But, long before this weekend, some dissident voices had already begun to call into question his presumed heroism and choice of tactical strategies in the middle east and the ultimate effectiveness of the surges he requested and/or oversaw in Iraq and Afghanistan. Those people are typically viewed as either communists or “bastards” or Oliver Stone.

Maybe this isn’t the day to say it. But we have to be able to criticize and scrutinize our military without fear for our own reputations in loyalty and patriotism. Our politicians can be mercilessly satirized scapegoats but our military personnel are somehow sacred cow. For the same reasons government must be subject to public critique, all the more so our military.

Although it most certainly is for his wife and family, the Patraeus scandal is not about sex. For the rest of us it’s mostly about transparency. Transparency in our bureaucracies and in the White House. National Security interests obviously make only so much transparency realistic.

But our heros are flawed and our most altruistic stratagem failed. And, to me, there is nothing more patriotic than to be able to say so.

To hold our military to account is precisely to honor our veterans.

By the way, I have a personal source on the Patraeus scandal and Paula Broadwell, specifically. I feel almost like a journalist. Except with a velour Starbury tracksuit on. I assume those are strongly discouraged in the presidential press junket, right?

Written and performed by theipoetlaureate. Music produced dave santos.

Today’s blong here:

Digital Camouflage

11/6/12

Color My Map

My wife couldn’t get over John King’s hands. (King, along with Wolf Blitzer, is one of CNN’s main electoral analysts on election night.) They were frozen in a sort of claw position no matter the gesture. I told her, “Uh. Everyone knows the molded action-figure-finger is the optimal hand positioning for manipulating the Magic Board.” Sheesk. She knows nothing about politics.

On another night where only “swing states” really mattered, John King’s crippled hands and political analysts, cable-wide, were literally swinging around digital states like misshapen blue and red pucks on ice. Grided counties and precincts and swirling percentages and exit polls and actual votes. It was like a math team had exploded.

This just in: I nailed my Montana prediction. Again.

The candidates have been campaigning relentlessly in places like Ohio and Pennsylvania and Virginia and Florida and Colorado for the chance that those states would swing to their ledger. Tonight Romney was only able to pendulum Virginia and Indiana and North Carolina, however. That was never going to be enough.

[For those of you keeping score at home, I went Obama, Romney, Obama on my predictions. Best 2 out of 3. Consider it "nailed."]

I don’t mind the political striation of our country. It’s pretty amazing really. America is not comprised of drastically red and blue states, although such creatures exist. I mean, places like Florida and Colorado are literally split down the middle 50/50. And, that’s a real impressive thing. Our political differences live on top of each other. Don’t let the map and King’s hobbled hands fool you. It’s not red in the middle and blue on the edges. It’s a puzzle of both throughout.

I’m thankful for the mad theater of our national presidential race. It’s like the Super Bowl and Family Fued all rolled up into one. It creates real democratic energy and I believe we will see that turnout was up again for a fifth straight election.

My wife also wondered out loud whether John King was married for his incessant breathless and auctioneer style talking. Surely not. And, she vowed that she would certainly call to tell me to stop if I were ever in his position. Did I mention she plainly knows very little about politics?? Incessant talking like a precious treasure.

Congratulations to President Obama. I believed he had earned a second term. And while I don’t publicly endorse, I had privately hoped. As I indicated, we would have been in capable hands either way. But, I’ve always sensed in President Obama a discretion that I could trust even over policy I could not.

Forward.

Written and performed by theipoetlaureate. Music produced djclutch.

Today’s blong here:

Swing State