The problem? I’m glad you asked. Their post does a couple of things. First, it misses the mark completely by ignoring the fact the PBS News Hour announces all service members who have died in the line of duty overseas as soon as the names and portraits become available. Their post just misses this completely, end of story. Except, secondly, their post implicitly blames Americans (aka, Facebook users) for what has always been a failing of media and government to protect us.

On an almost weekly basis, I’m reminded of when an internal NBC memo was leaked regarding Phil Donahue’s cancellation stating that he would provide, “difficult public face for NBC in a time of war.” I always find it curious the things people get mad at, and yet do absolutely nothing about.

NASCAR: What are they going for? – Bryan DiSanto

While watching a Philadelphia Flyers game, during the commercial I switched to the Daytona 500. As a fan of race cars, and anything fast, I thought watching it would make the commercials go by more quickly. Boy was I wrong. Every time I switched over to the race, there was a caution flag, with all the race cars in line behind the pace car. Boy, what an exciting race. Well now we all know why the pace car comes out, a caution flag. But why all the cautions you ask? Wrecks. And oh boy, were there a lot of them. This drove me to text my friend, who also is a fan of motor-sports, and anything automotive in general.

I came to the conclusion that for a car to deliberately contact another car, there needs to be some kind of penalty. No one of those, “Hey, were fining your multi-million dollar team $20,000” penalties. There needs to be a loss of points in the standings. I mean the “R” in NASCAR stands for racing. So let the fans see the racing. Not 1 final lap of racing and 299 laps of cautions, meaningless commentary, pit stops, deliberate hits upon other drivers and hey, crashes.

The way the “Stock Cars” (I use that term loosely, more on that later) draft is ridiculous. In the Dayton 500 the drivers were running in tandem. Teams of 2 were pushing (literally) themselves around the track. What happens if the front car lifts throttle or hits the brakes you ask? Well if you watched any of the race, you’ll know. The back car plows into the rear end, turns the front car around inevitably causes a crash, and Knocks a car or two out of the race.

Now, it is not only legal to make contact with other cars, it’s ENCOURAGED. Have they learned nothing of the death of drivers? Sure, some blame safety, driver error, car setup, or say the cause was a freak accident, but in the end, every time a car impact an object or another car, the outcome could be deadly. It’s so ironic that before the race, everyone honors a deceased driver who passed away during a race. Then, only a couple laps in, deliberate contact is made between cars, at over 200mph, which could easily end in multiple deaths. And worst of all, fans not only like the crashes, that is what they watch this form of “racing” for.

This brings me to another point. How can you call yourself a fan, knowing your cheering for someone to potentially kill or injure another driver every week? Do the fans consciously know what they are cheering for? I’m fine with violence, so go watch some boxing, MMA, or a hockey game. This is not the place for it. However particularly in the South, fans stare “rubbin’s racin” I’m sorry, but no, it really isn’t. Rubbing is not having the skill to pass, or block a pass cleanly. Rubbing is racing, in demolition derby, and probably Roman chariots. So if these fans want to see cars crash, why not stand on an overpass above I-95. You may even see a decapitation. Or hey, watch any form of rally racing. Trust me, the crashes in the WRC are much more spectacular than in NASCAR. AND, get this; crashing isn’t even the name of the game. As a side effect they may actually get to see some good racing. Maybe if the WRC advertised Sebastian Loeb flipping his Citroen over into a tree on route 1 North in Dover, via a billboard, they could triple their fan base. That is beside the point though.

So, where is NASCAR going with this sport? In the absence of innovation, development, and the showcase of skill, we are left with crashes and sponsors. Crashes make the sport exciting; exciting enough to attract viewers and fills seats. When you buy merchandise you can have your favorite potential murderer’s driver’s face on it. So NASCAR likes, money and crashes. They advertise it as something it isn’t (racing) in an effort to make it legitimate. There are other people out there that are staying true to the form of racing. Which brings me to the term “Stock Car”. Yes, back in the day the cars had to be produced to race. However, today, I don’t see a full sheet metal, tube chassis, fire-breathing small block V8 at my local Chevy, Ford, Dodge, (don’t see much of anything at Dodge) or Toyota dealer. But wait, I just made a slanderous statement. They stay true to their roots by using a fucking carburetor. Nothing screams state of the art technology like 1970’s carburetion. If these cars are “Stock Cars”, then the old Honda F1 car is a spitting image of a civic.

Online dating is the suckiest suck that ever sucked.

A friend soon commented on it thusly:

Then get out there and play the field.

I’d be speechless if I weren’t so irate that someone elses obtuse ignorance had not penetrated a space directly below a quote of mine, so as to assoicate that ill-advised comment forever with what was a generally not serious, benign, and probably not all that funny line.

First, there is a syntax error committed in trying to make a dichotomy where there is none.  To the point, how is online dating different from “playing the field?”  Therefore, I’m led to ask what playing the field is, after which, we then need to realize that talking about dating as a game is inherently stupid (on top of objectifying).  A game is something you can win, people.

Girl: I mean, my step-brother is soooo fucking HOT!

Me: ::looks over to other friend who’s not in this conversation who makes eye contact with me::

Friend: Nice. (dry sarcasm)

I can always count on my friends to make any awkwardness worthwhile, but there’s a larger lesson I drew here. The landscape for social interactions has deteriorated to such a degree that I am now reduced to explain that the reason why I didn’t meet anybody was because, “Well, I did meet this one girl, but she’s really into her step-brother.” America, FUCK YEAH!

So, where to start? This show hits on a few things. If you like music that doesn’t always involve death metal, this show will hit a few notes for you. Glee is trying to strike that part of your brain that either did, or does, like musicals, or the ability to have a music video come to life on a daily basis. The problem is that the show is written, produced, and directed by what appears to be heroin addicts. The only part of the theme that remains in this show is that there are kids who are in a glee club. Every other part of the show that would, or should, make you care drops and then gets picked up at such distant and random intervals that I forgot to pick up my dry cleaning last week. As it turns out, I don’t have any dry cleaning to pick up.

And there are things that I like in terms of story arc. Kurt’s outed homosexuality is something that really provides that show with some sincere emotion, even if it is a bit obvious that the show would have to make that a theme. And the characters are all pretty and have… talent. But, there’s a problem that comes with a serious story arc, the show takes itself seriously. And the problem for a story arc for an out homosexual in highschool is that the rest of the arcs and themes are SO childish, contrived, and crazy. I mean, there is so much deus-ex-machina in the show, that almost every episode could be made into a Mystery Science Theatre 3000 / Rifftrax episode.

Ugh, God, did I mention there’s a kid in a wheelchair? That they involve with the choreography?

If you can pry your hands away from your shamed-face, let me say like I did in the beginning that I get why this show is popular, I like parts of it, I like the musical numbers sometimes, and yes they’re all pretty. But to think that this show says something, anything, speaks more for your imagination than it does the creators of the show.

First, I remember many years ago when I was lucky enough to be in the housing industry (look at me, mom, I’m riding a wave), I called one of the higher-ups in middle management.  I told him that our division was closer to getting one more settlement for the last day of the month, but we weren’t sure because the deck plans weren’t ready.  (We were going to build these nice people a deck for their home, as part of the deal.)  I then said, “But I’m not really worried about it.”  To which, he replied, “Well, I’m glad you feel that way,” with such condescension and anger so as to wonder how Judy Miller is still a professional reporter in this world.

I had no idea what the hell happened.  I said, “Uh, okay,” and hung up the phone.  As it turns out, Mr. Middle Manager thought I meant DEC plans, as in, declaration plans, which is something that is needed legally to pretend that you own something when in fact it’s in fact really the government’s.  But hey, that’s another story.  I found out the disconnect five minutes later when I asked my boss about it, after which, I replied, “Well shit, I can’t tell him I was talking about something completely different now.”

In another world, the world of “reality,” acronyms are fucking my shit up all day long.  They’re used not to make something shorter, but to take away the meaning of what’s being said.  My latest favorite: DTF – Down to Fuck.  Just writing it pains my heart.  Making that an acronym takes away the fucking force (see what I did there?) of the action.

Apart from that, being an acronym from a reality show makes it a fad and cultural reference.  Now, being Down to Fuck isn’t about having a liberal (and I don’t mean that politically, Joe Biden) sex life, but now we’re fucking for the sake that we’re part of a cultural reference to a show.  That’s kind of like eating cheesecake because it’s your 10th favorite author’s favorite dish, despite the fact that you really don’t care if you have it, or not.

Here’s where the rubber meets the road, and what changes the tone of this: if people are doing what they want (fucking for fuck’s sake, which is perfectly okay; just not my style, as it were), then that’s fine.  But if they’re doing this as a way to be part of some awkward reality TV social fad, then maybe we all deserve to be duped.  I just pray they’re not using a reality TV show acronym to justify something that doesn’t need to be justified between consenting adults.

***

As an aside, I’m secretly hoping to catch a clip of the Jersey Shore where Mike asks if a girl is DTF only to have her retort in inquisition if he is, “Down with Jesus?”  Hilarity ensues, roll credits, give me my Emmy.

And the Jersey Shore is no different.  But, while I could feel sorry for someone competing in Survivor, I couldn’t watching people on the Jersey Shore.  Why?  Because these aren’t real people.

Critics, Andrew Sullivan being the latest, argue that this is a utilitarian thought experiment and it’s been tried, and you just can’t do it.  Sullivan calls it a categorical error, while others choose the much more snooty sounding, “Deriving ought from is.”

This is all well and good, and Harris has written rebuttals to most of these critiques.

But the thing I love about the critiques of these against Harris is to the point of how offended people seem by his efforts.  I’m fairly certain that in this context, it’s only a matter of time before they start equating his philosophizing and thought experiments with Hitler.  “He’s a white male with dark hair; that’s sooooo Hitler of him.”

However, near the end of her post, Nancy writes:

…but it wasn’t until my mom was diagnosed with metastasized stage IV lung cancer that they [completely breast centered advertisements] became truly enraging. Not only are women reduced to their breasts, but men are reduced to their love for breasts – as though they will only pay attention to the cause if presented with a pair of luscious, jiggling tits.

The sentiment is correct (as I’ve stated, I agree with her), but I’m not sure she gets the wording right because when she writes, “as though they will only pay attention to the cause if presented with a pair of luscious, jiggling tits,” I actually think, “Yeah, they are going to get more donations/men-caring when it’s framed like that.” Sex sells, even when it’s for raising money for a good cause.

Maybe Tracy is not so enraged at the ads for breast cancer awareness, but rather the stupid human condition (really, people are dying, but we’ll only give when it’s about boobs and sex?) that triggers our (people attracted to women) ability to feel compassion for a cause, or willingness to give money.

Ross says that this domestic partnership would allow for adoption. Following Ross’s guidelines, let’s pretend that I’m a heterosexual male in a domestic partnership with my heterosexual best friend. We decide that we want to adopt a child together, a right it seems we would have under Ross’s law. What happens, several years later, when one of us meets a woman we want to marry? How do you resolve the domestic partners’ financial obligations to each other and the custody battle?

The best I could do with the conundrum that Appel serves up (I too came up with the same problem) was that the arrangement should be held to a business standard having renewal dates and fiduciary duties that would detail points of action for dissolving the partnership (e.g. penalties, support for children, etc).  Such action plans would be necessary if there were children involved.  Or they could just do what most family court judges do and award custody of the child to the female, or most effeminate partner.  Oh please, as if you thought there was something else they were doing.