Tuesday, September 30, 2008

act your shoe size lady, and other revelations.

Remember the old adage, "act your age, not your shoe size?" I would like to make an amendment and direct it at a certain woman of gigantic proportions who I had the terrible misfortune of being in close proximity to late Monday evening. I will explain in a moment but first, some background. I am in a global studies class at Viterbo that deals mainly with the topic of globalization. For those of you who don't know, globalization is a hard term to define but is generally agreed upon to be "a multidimensional set of social processes that create, multiply, stretch, and intensify worldwide social interdependency's and exchanges while at the same time fostering in people a growing awareness of deepening connections between the local and the distant," according to Manfred B. Steger in Globalization: a very short introduction. So, in a nutshell, globalization is basically the inter-connectedness of our globe and has an impact on many facets of life.

I attended a seminar Monday night entitled: "Globalization: a positive outlook." It was addressing concerns about the economics of globalization and was given by a man named Edward C. Prescott. Now, upon entering the seminar I was immediately bombarded by the smell of Drakkar Noir and a plethora of affluent gentlemen sporting what seemed to be Lord and Taylor's new fall fashion line. In a word: yuppies. Don't get me wrong, I believe to survive in this world it takes all kinds of people, but you can imagine the discrepancy in our outlook on life as I accidentally stepped on one gentleman's $500 dollar polished shoes with my $70 dollar Etnies that I've worn for two years because I insist that I haven't gotten my $70 worth yet. Anyway, I take my seat and the seminar begins.

Ever watched a movie in Russian? Yea that about sums up how much I understood from that seminar. What I did take out of it was that I was in a room full of people who firmly believed the rich should be getting richer. At the the end of the seminar, the speaker announced it was time for questions. My teacher was in the crowd, a few seats away from me actually, and being the liberal socialist that he is, asked a couple questions that did tear into the mold of what the speaker was saying but he remained respectful at all times. He used Europe as an example as there are parts that are more socialist friendly and doing well. The point of the question was lost in the explanation as it was clear that both my teacher and the speaker had very conflicting viewpoints. While my teacher was asking his questions, however, I noticed a very tall lady in front of me shaking her head in disagreement and whispering in her husbands ear who then nodded in agreement of whatever her opinion was. That's fine, I have no qualms with disagreeing, but what happened next appalled me. I had walked over to my teacher and was having a friendly discussion with him when the aforementioned lady came over, slapped a big forceful hand on my teachers' shoulder and said, "If you like Europe so much, why don't you move there. And take Obama with you." To have the nerve to say that to someone who holds a different opinion than you and was being very respectful about communicating that difference is absolutely appalling. I don't care if you're a democrat or a republican, left wing or right wing, we are all members of the same species. Lets treat each other with a little respect.

I'd like to point out how frightening it is to see the damage that so much seperation can do. Democrats and republicans become so enraged with each other that they resort to vulgar misinterpretations of each other's character. Look at any political video on Youtube and read the comments. It's a cyber battle-field. Starts to remind me of the Rwandan genocide. The Hutu's and the Tootsie's became so arbitrarily seperated and because of despicable agendas of a few men in power, there was total chaos and literally thousands of people were slaughtered. Why? Because the Tootsie's were different than the Hutu's? Seems that way, but the two tribes were actually divided, by the British when that area was being colonized, into two groups based on physical characteristics. If you were tall or had a certain shaped nose, you were a Tootsie. Quite often members of the same family were labeled as different tribes, torn apart, and taught to hate each other. Now, I'm not saying that a genocide is going to happen here, but it is a good demonstration of the intensity of seperation. Have your view point and allow me mine. Then, we'll compromise. Tolerance and empathy, pass it around.

Monday, September 22, 2008

Death and Taxes. and late fees...

The great Benjamin Franklin once stated in a letter to Jean-Baptiste Leroy that, "In this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes." I would like to add "late fees" to this timeless list of certainties and I'm sure if old Ben were here today he'd say, "yea sounds good, you coming to the rodeo tonight?" 'Cause we'd be buddies. Buddies who liked rodeos. I digress, allow me to explain. Throughout history, good-hearted law-abiding citizens of their respected nations have been condemned to a life of turmoil brought down by the heavy hand of late fees. Advocates of the late fee would have you believe it is a system which helps regulate a capitalist society but be weary of such claims, they haven't been evaluated by the FDA.
There is no greater evil than the politics of a video rental store. Allow me to illustrate their deceitful tactics. Video rental stores thrive on those below and just above the poverty line. In other words, the poor. Rich people can watch movies in their heads and have no need for rentals. The poor, who shall remain nameless(me), cannot be counted on to return movies on their predetermined due date, not of their own fault but because they are too busy wondering if they should take little Jimmy to the hospital for that weird growth on his arm or save themselves the hospital bill and eat for another three weeks. thus, the movies are not returned and so begins the accumulation process. After some time, the overdue balance is sent to a collection agency. Now when the aforementioned poor people try to borrow money to pay off their late fees or debt, they are bombarded with higher interest rates if even accepted at all due to their dwindling credit score. And when the payment for the loan is not made on time, a new period of late fees begin and the process comes full circle.
Now you may be saying to yourself, "well, they should have just returned the movies on time." And to that I say think of little Jimmy's tear stained face. how could you think of returning "Ernest goes to camp" at a time like that? Regardless of whether little Jimmy had to go to the hospital or I just made that up for some sympathy and actually just forgot about returning the movies, it is still inhumane to subject us common folk to the torturous monstrosity known as the late fee. In my opinion, I'm actually doing them a service by withholding the movies past their due date. I call it the law of scarcity. It's common knowledge that people want what other people want. Now, nobody rents "the lost boys" anymore but when I rent it and keep it for a month, that will have a positive effect on the rental stores' revenue. here's my logic, when I keep the movie for a month people will notice that it is habitually missing. They will assume that people keep renting it due to its' superb acting or solid plot structure and begin to believe that it is scarce to find it un-rented, which makes it a hot commodity. It's classic supply and demand my friend, and I create the demand. I don't think its wishful thinking when I hope that one day these rental establishments will recognize my patronage as a necessity and compensate me. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to take little Jimmy to the hospital.


P.S. - I haven't been able to acquire a library card because I refuse to pay late fees for some books I had checked out in 1994 and never returned. I don't care what they say, I'm not paying forty dollars for "Goosebumps" and "The Family Circus Collection." Incidentally, I actually found the family circus book the other day while looking through some of my old stuff. I suppose I'll return it soon and demand compensation for creating a huge illusion of scarcity around said book. I mean, it must be good if it's continually checked out for 14 years. Right?

Monday, September 8, 2008

Long live the back alleyway.

It is my firm belief that back alleyways have had a bad rap for far too long. They have forever been the Jan Brady's of the world, always over-shadowed by the so-called superior sidewalks and streets. However, contrary to popular belief, back alleyways possess numerous beautiful qualities which are often overlooked. For example, where else could you gaze upon two stray dogs in the throes of young love without being ridiculed by your peers for being a, "dog sweet-nothings whisperer." There are those who say that back alleyways are just too dark, damp and scary. Those people must have forgotten the dark and damp accommodations of their mother's womb, as I'm fairly certain they found it quite comfortable at the time. Sure there's unidentified substances and lingering foul smells, but you're likely to find the same conditions while using a public restroom. At least in a back alleyway you're not confined by the unwritten "every-other stall" rule and can exercise your right as an American citizen to pee your name on the finest walls in your town. Or, if your a lady, make a puddle on the ground. And, if it's a particularly cold night or there has been a recent string of jelly fish attacks, then I'm sure none of the peaceful natives of back alleyways would mind if you happened to unknowingly, "get a little on them." Rest assured, that guy in the business suit on your precious sidewalk would not be as thrilled.

Aside from the obvious personal benefits previously stated, there is another element of the back alleyway that clearly defines its superiority. The amount of sunlight that reaches the bellies of back alleyways is very slim compared to the alternative streets, thus, providing more protection from dangerous ultraviolet rays. It's no secret that skin cancer is on the rise these days so everyone should take the necessary precautions by using back alleyways as their main routes of conveyance. The back alleyway behind my house alone has an SPF of 62,000. Some other luxuries of the back alleyway to consider are trash receptacles cleverly disguised as the ground, exquisite diversity of sights and smells, and an abundance of mini-waterfalls created by an all natural process of water flowing through gutters. Indeed the reign of sidewalks and streets has seen its last days, as the unfettering rule of the back alleyway commences. It is my hope that you'll join me as a crusader for the immortal back alleyway. Oh, and pay no attention to front alleyways. They're wannabe's.