Always a Henchman, Never a Mastermind

What a wild weekend!

The worst part? Watching the suck-nado that is Flightplan.

Other than that: Let me hit the highlights for you:

It all begins on an idle Thursday. The kind of Thursday that only happens once a week. Wahooweena and Larzzzz dropped by and Wahooweena and I settled in for the usual fun of a Thursday. In this case it meant eating some casserole and watching a documentary about the Branch-Davidians, you know like you do. Mr.Crankypants came home and did some judging, you know, like he do. Anywho, it was an auspicious beginning.

Friday, once I got off work and made some purchases, what wahooweena would call my woo-woo stuff, I raced home to take a nap in time to be up an hilarious for the night to come. I have made no secret that after having turned 30, I have been re-evaluating things. Trying to put life into a perspective that I can handle. Sure Wahooweena and I have unlocked the ultimate meaning of the universe, deciphered its deepest mysteries, but how does that get me through the daily reality? Having no answer to that I have taken advantage of modern technology, branched out, met some new people (some bat-shit crazy, others mildly crazy crazy, mostly just awesome). There has also been a bit of over-indulgence.

So Friday rolls around, and I think: "Self, you should just have a good time dancing, and then home early, no need to be a rock-star"

Ahh the best laid plans of mice, men and Mr.Wednesdays.

I met up with peoples at Gusto's. Being a bit of a creature stuck to my ways many of you may not believe this; I left the 44 and had a good time at another bar. And by good time, I mean I had a fucking blast.

From there it was off to the Balcony. That is when we start down-hill into depravity....

To begin with the 1st song on as I came in was "Party in the U.S.A.". I have no idea the cause but there is something about that particular string of notes but something Pavlovian occurs and everyone hit the dance floor...and then, well the shots...I personally lay the blame at Ioncontrol since, I would never drink so many shots in one evening.

By closing time the count was as follows:

2 tattoos licked
1 man convinced that I would blow him in the bathroom for a drink
1 man lied to about me blowing him in the bathroom for a drink
1 Prince Albert felt up
2 sets of breasts exposed to the masses
$20 found in the ATM for bonus drinking money

But closing time means nothing to one such as myself.

Stumbling I went, I needed a hotdog, and there was a posse with me. As we got our hotdogs, a cry went up from the people "WE MUST HAVE LOS BETOS!" So off we trot to Larzzz's vehicle...

PROBLEM: Not enough room.
SOLUTION: Climb into the back of the truck and rock it out like some sort of non-documented persons coming into the country.

See, at this point, it ought to be noted NO ONE TRIED TO TELL ME IT WAS A BAD IDEA.

So into the back we climb. Did you know that trucks these days have safety features if you are kidnapped? Yeah.

Upon arrival at Los Betos I order, I eat...it is three a.m. and Mr. CrankyPants is being all appropriate boundaries for some reason so we decide it is off to EchoBase. During this time...I am pretty sure I am getting stared down by some 4 year old in a tuxedo.

We swing by my place...SO I CAN GET A BLANKET and then off to Echo Base. By the time I woke up, I was a chilly. The comforter was bunched on my feet, however there was a curtain, so off the curtain came in some drunken ode to Carol Burnette.

Sadly, Ioncontrol had to work so after 5 hours of rest it was time to waken. Friday had bled into Saturday, and I was in PAIN.

You know, at some point, I am going to have to grow up. But until then. . .

Once more Pat, with feeling

Technically, Pat Robertson...he was right. Yeah, I know, that vein on the side of your head just throbbed a little.

To recap, he blamed a pact with the Devil for the recent quake in Haiti. There was the usual outrage (a bit naive I think, 1. It was Pat Robertson, 2. It was Pat Robertson, and 3. REALLY IT WAS PAT ROBERTSON). As he said on his 700 Club episode:

"Something happened a long time ago in Haiti, and people might not want to talk about it. They were under the heel of the French. You know, Napoleon III, or whatever. And they got together and swore a pact to the devil. They said, we will serve you if you'll get us free from the French. True story. And so, the devil said, okay it's a deal."

Robertson goes on to say: "ever since, they have been cursed by one thing after the other".

What he was referring to was the rite at Bois Caïman presided over by Dutty Boukman. To make a long (though terribly engaging) story short: Slaves gathered, ritual was done, and Ezili Dantor was invoked, a pig was sacrificed and revolution was born. Because of this goes the Robertson the people were plagued by corrupt government, AIDS, perpetual economic enslavement by a capitalist white power structure intent on keeping the nation unstable etc.

Now, Pat is theologically sound in his assessment. The Abrahamic faiths stopped acknowledging the existence of other gods right around the time the Jews went to Babylon. (Also interestingly enough about the same time that the duality of God vs Satan entered, and Angels got wings, but who am I to point out that this was an import from Persian myth?) So anything that is not of god must be of HIS (not her you silly feminist, why are you reading this anyway? Go shave your armpits and get pregnant) adversary. So since Haitians are not Christian, they are in league with the Devil. The syllogism looks like this

A. Any divine being worshiped that is not Jesus is actually Satan.

B. Haitians invoked Ezili Dantor in their revolution (not Jesus)

C. Haitians invoked Satan in their revolution

Naturally if A & B are true then C must also be true.

Monotheism by nature sets up this kind of thought process: "I have the TRUTH, therefore your truth, which is different than mine, cannot be correct" and that slippery slope leads a lot of people to die. As Pascal supposedly said "Men never do evil so completely and cheerfully as when they do it from religious conviction" I actually think it is wrong that Christians around the globe have denounced Pat. I cannot stand the man, but their hypocrisy is mind numbing. If they did not believe it and agree with it on some level, they would not spend their time proselytizing their money trying to sway politics or their energy legislating morality. All Pat did was boil off their sanctimony and tell it like it is. So in my mind the internal dialogue went like this:

"Well, gee, when Pat puts it like that, it kind of makes us all sound like douche-bags. I don't want to change anything about my core belief, but I had better make it sound like he is crazy or else no one will ever want a Gideon's again."

Yup. That is what it boils down to for me. I am sure they have their own truth of the matter, and bless em for it.

My closing thought is this: I hope that we do not ever try to spin sending aid to the people of Haiti or anywhere else into a form of indentured status.

A new...something or other.

So, it has been since my last birthday since I sat and wrote and since it is the half-way point, and I am at home sick today and I have this new blog, I figured, you know, why the hell not?

Let me see, well the holidays were wonderful, and it is always nice to get home and see mi familia. My parents went above and beyond this year on the gift and got me a sassy new smart phone. Verizon being the "Great Satan" if "The-Great-Satan-had-a-Developmental-Delay-and- Bad-Coke-Habit", kindly refused to hook the phone up since I had not bought it from them. I am now with AT&T.

Along with the smart phone came my return to Twitter. Now I am all addicted to the lives of people I have vaguely met, and the comedy that ensues.

OMG Steve got us a new television. And it is pretty damned sweet. So that and the Netflix right to my PS3 means I am uber bourgeois and very well entertained.

I am now working for the department of corrections, and I love my job.

Now for the stuff that you all really came here for:

Settle on in chil'ren it is stoh-rey time with Mr. Wednesday

The Trip Home. . .

Air travel in this country is second only to subways for forcing people into awkward social relationships. Huddled bodies crammed in a tiny space, the spectre of Death looming just on the edge of the laws of physics. Needless to say it is not exactly the calm method of travel, especially for someone who's South Node was in transit at birth (astrology bitches, what?!?). So there I am squeezed in next to the window on my way to Chicago. I was just minding my own working on my French when I notice a commotion coming from next to me.

Sitting next to me was a lady of Asian descent frantically signing in ASL to some schlub sitting across the way. Now it is a little known fact, and deaf persons will never tell you this, but deaf people are catty and ASL is FULL of hilarious gestures to cut others down to size. Being a tad misanthropic and a master chugger of haterade, I know ASL precisely for this reason (well that and it helped pass the time with this Taurus I was dating, yeesh) Anywho... I decide to just jump right in their conversation. Oh she was excited! She was even happier to know I could hear, and then started speaking. Turns out she is from Beijing and is here studying. Turns out my Mandarin is pretty spot on, and there is a whole district in Beijing for those of us who enjoy the passions of the cut sleeve. (yes I am easy to pick out even internationally). Then we started discussing Maoism, Communism and the evils of the free market. Comically here spoken English mastery failed but her ASL helped. Her chubby, strictly platonic, nebbish travel mate just glowered at me from across the aisle. Turns out torment hets is a guilty pleasure.

When I finally land in Roanoke, you would think I would be excited. I was until my plane was stuck on the tarmac. After an hour, I commented that it would have been nice if they had known we were coming somehow. As it turns out we landed in the middle of a Union Break.

My week at home was spent in glorious revelry with my peeps. We discussed health care reform, the oppression of people by organized religion, midgets, the holocaust. There was a mystery involving suicide/homicide, and cursing a relative to the grave. All the great things a family gathering ought to have.

Of course, I was feeling guilty because I missed people in Boise so much. But I called Wahooween and Divalish1 and Feithline and Steve and it eased the pain. Which worked out well, since the day I was to leave coincided with a Mercury retrograde...LIKE IT DOES.

Well, I got snowed in, rerouted, snowed in and bumped to 1st class. Traveling in 1st class is a head trip incidentally. The stewards, bless their hearts, all have Stockholm Syndrome. But I liberated some supplies to redistribute so I feel better.

The New Year
LORD KISS MY ASS 2009! Sadly I am not sure what to report from the New Year...I fisted myself to sleep...

The New Decade
Well, I went to a party at Doodleannie's and met some hilarious new peeps. Speaking of which: when a str8 guy likes another guy it is a man crush, and when a gay man likes a str8 man its a bromance, but what is it when a gay man has a crush on a str8 chick?

And now I am closing, cause there is a lot I want to discuss but it would not fit in the context.