Election Day Goes Smoothly

by B. Clifton Burke

Where were the long lines? Where was all the excitement, the hubbub?

Election Day went off without a hitch at the 12-b voting precinct at Little Sisters of the Poor on Riddle road in Clifton. Poll workers said there were some lines early in the day, but were surprised at the lack of lines and intense political activity as the day winded down.

In other polling stations throughout Cincinnati, lines grew to a two hour wait, but pollsters said they felt that the high volume of college students within the precinct, likely translated into many voters casting their ballots before Election Day. One worker pointed out how many students also may have casted absentee ballots to the areas that they have moved to college from.

Voter turnout was historically high city-wide around Cincinnati, and many voters anticipated a crazy day of long lines, intense political debate and perhaps even civil unrest. Instead, all the excitement a voter came away with after they voted was the sense of making a difference and receiving a sticker.

“I’m relieved that it wasn’t a huge process,” said Becca Dugan, 23, of Clifton. “I set aside a lot of time to get this done, and now I can get some work done around my apartment.”

Campaigners and other people with flyers and written material stood outside of the polling station and were required to stand at minimum of 100 feet from the entrance. Campaigners and politicians were allowed to vote, of course, but they were not permitted to wear any electioneering clothing or accessories into the polling station.

Polling workers said they hadn’t encountered any problems as of 4pm in the afternoon on Tuesday.

With the flood of daily news reports warning the world of potential economic doom, many Americans are looking to the next president to lead them to financial safety. The level of government involvement in future domestic markets has become a premier issue in the presidential race in recent weeks. Some fear that the nation is moving toward socialism.

Democratic presidential nominee Barak Obama, has been labeled as a socialist by Republican opponent Senator John McCain and by right-wing media outlets throughout the country. Prompted by the now legendary exchange with “Joe the Plummer”, McCain called Obama a “job-killing socialist” at a rally in Belton, Missouri in mid-October. Fox News host Bill O’Reilly accused Obama’s economic plan as “class warfare” in an interview in September. But would a self-proclaimed socialist consider Obama the one of their own?

“Absolutely not,” said Seth Johnson, a 33-year-old UC graduate in political science and a branch member for the International Socialist Organization on campus. “Obama’s plan is McCain Lite, meaning it’s only a different kind of tax break for the wealthy.”

The term socialism has provoked a negative response to the average American, even before the Communist regime of Joseph Stalin. The atrocious legacy of Soviet labor camps, the Gulag and the Cold War, still resonates in the minds of older voters. John McCain has used this response as a strategy to try to discredit Mr. Obama.

Jane Anderson, a University of Cincinnati political science professor, says that she thinks the strategy has been an effective one simply because it has served as a political buzzword. She explains that some of the working class who would consider themselves religious people, often identify socialism as a godless political system and that the McCain campaign is fusing these concepts together.

“Because he’s closing the gap at all, is proof that it’s kind of ringing a bell with some people,” Anderson said.

Anderson thinks Americans have a mind set of deep rooted individualism, and mostly identify themselves as middle-class. These, she says, are factors which contribute to the negative attitude American’s have of socialism.

“The appeal of America was once the frontier and the rugged individualism, and achieving on your own efforts,” said Anderson, “Any ideology that looks at individuals as a collective is kind of contradictory to the American concept.”

Anderson, 67, explains that regardless of a person’s income, except for the very poor and the extremely rich, people in America like to think of themselves as middle-class.

“Some pretty desperate people fall into that huge middle-class range. Blue-collard workers still have dreams of upward mobility in this country, and wouldn’t readily identify themselves as working class, like workers would in Europe and other parts of the world. Not much room for socialism there,” Anderson said.

Socialism is often associated with Communism, yet the two are not technically the same.

Shane Johnson defines socialism as the temporary transition period from a bourgeois democracy of capitalism to a classless society which is the ultimate goal of communism. Anderson agrees, but she points out that some socialists around the turn of the 20th Century opposed a revolutionary overthrow and felt that the communist vision could be achieved through labor unions and more bureaucratic means. This group, according to Anderson, became known as democratic socialists and were something distinct from the revolutionary communists of the Bolshevik regime.

As many social democratic parties and governments in Europe today move closer to capitalism by supporting private ownership of various state-controlled industries and the removal of free market regulations, some argue the US government’s bailout plan is a bridge leading to the opposite direction.

“I don’t think anybody could have imagined Bernanke and Paulson ever saying that this was a good idea, but what they are proposing is by every traditional definition, genuine socialism,” Anderson said. “One could even consider programs like social security and medicare socialist programs, but the direct state investment and ownership into these banks under the bailout plan, is truly a socialist act.”

Once again, socialists disagree.

“The bailout plan is only feeding the gambling addiction of Wall Street,” said Johnson. “It doesn’t address the human needs of the working class. It isn’t redistributing that $700 billion to them.”

Johnson, and other socialists do not foresee either candidate overthrowing the capitalistic society we currently have in exchange for a socialist one, regardless of the economic uncertainty the world faces. The next president will be looked upon to not only save our economy, but to do so by preserving traditional American capitalism.

Debate - 10/7/08

Last night's debate surprised me in how detailed the questions were. I thought the question of how the candidates would prioritize the current question was especially telling. McCain seemed to try his best to skirt around the question by saying he would attack all three at once. Obama, however, was candid and honest about his take on the issue. I also felt the question about invading Pakistan if Osama Bin Laden was found there demanded some specific answers. I again commend Barak for answering that yes he would invade. McCain used his time to discredit Obama's response.

All I'm reading in the media today is of how most people thought it was boring, and that McCain referred to Obama as "that one". The nation appears underwhelmed by the whole affair.

Overall, I think McCain talked his way out of the election by giving his financial solutions as rebuilding the housing market. I don't think home ownership is the way of the future for today's youth.

1991 NBA Finals Game 2

Game 2 showed us that in order for the Lakers to have a chance at beating the spry Bulls, they would have to get 20 points from Perkins, Magic and Worthy every time. LA tried to play 30-and-over ball by resorting to backing defenders down and complaining to the refs.

The Bulls adjusted in game 2 with Jordan looking to pass first, setting up some very easy buckets for teammates, especially Horace Grant. Grant had a walk-in-the-park 20 points thanks to the gift wrapped passes Jordan was delivering. The tactic worked and the Bulls ran out to an early lead without MJ having to shoot much at all.

In the second half Jordan decided to get in on the scoring action a bit more. He started shooting and didn’t stop until he had reeled off 13 baskets in a row, including the dazzling change of hands shot that’s rerun in highlight reels all the time. The Bulls sensed the Lakers wearing down and went for the jugular as they pushed the tempo even more, leading to easy transition buckets. For as great as a scorer and finisher MJ was, his cross court bullet passes to Grant underneath were almost as spectacular. Jordan finished with 33 points and 13 assists, helping out Grant and Pippen who had 20 apiece. Paxson made all eight of his shots and the Bulls shot 61 percent as team.

The Bulls had beaten the Lakers by 21 points without making a 3-pointer (0-5). They had outhustled and outscrapped the Lakers and learned that this was the easiest way to take down the veteran team. The Lakers knew it too. Once the game started to get away from them, they turned their focus on the refereeing instead of running down to the defensive end. The Lakers just didn’t have the legs to compete with these young men.

1991 NBA Finals Lakers at Bulls Game 1

The Bulls had to crawl before they could walk. They had paid their playoff dues and after sweeping the Pistons, the team they had lost to in the playoffs three years in a row, they finally had found themselves in the Finals against a seasoned Lakers squad.

Jordan wasn’t particularly young when he reached the big stage (29), and Magic wasn’t all that old (31) as he was exiting stage left. It was the ninth time Magic had played in a finals, but this wasn’t his Showtime Lakers of the 80's. This team liked to slow things down and get a good look in a half court set. Magic himself had lost some quickness and endurance, but he was as crafty as ever and could run the point blindfolded. He was still good for a triple-double in almost any game, but the run-and-gun style he became famous for had vanished almost completely by then.

James Worthy had sprained his ankle in the series before against Portland and wasn’t the high flyer of his youth. He still could knock down his turnaround jumper and rebound well enough to be pretty effective. Sleepy Sam Perkins was the assassin who could hit shots from all over the floor. Similar to the clutch shooting of Big Shot Bob Horry later in the decade, Perkins knocked down key buckets during crucial stretches for his team. Kareem was retired and Vlade Divac was the new Lakers center. The Yugoslavian silly guy didn’t have the majestical passing skills he would later demonstrate in Sac but he was far more active and could even jump a little back then. While never a defensive enforcer, in ‘91 he had good timing on his shot block attempts and seemed good for two or three a game. Byron Scott was there too, always flying under the radar. Scott could shoot (53 percent from 3-point in '91 playoffs), could dunk and could play aggressive defense (had over 100 steals in 1990-91 season).

The one thing the Lakers didn’t have was a bench. AC Green could help spell Perkins or Worthy for a bit, and Terry Teagle found some minutes on this team but that was about it. An aged team coupled with a light bench doesn’t work out well.

Chicago on the other hand was young and hungry. The superstars drafted in the mid-80's had blossomed and Jordan was the crown jewel of them all. He and Pippen had slugged it out with the Detroit Bad Boys for what seemed like decades, and had finally overcame them in ‘91. The dynamic duo were slasher extraordinaires that easily found their way into the paint and glided past defenders in the air. Neither was the shooter they would later become, but they hit enough to keep the defense honest. Chicago started the triangle offense, but in it’s infancy, it was a face-the-basket variety. Horace Grant and Bill Cartwright would post up but the shots were designed to come from the two slashers and the spot up shooter John Paxson. No one tried to back you down on the Bulls team then. Instead, they would either shoot jumpers over you or take it to the rim showing off their controlled acrobatics. John Paxson had the quickest release in the game and he could knock down threes with consistency. It was easy for defenses to lose track of Paxson when Pippen and MJ demanded so much attention. If he snuck off and found an open shot, you could mark it down as good. Like the Lakers, the Bulls also had a very limited bench. Will Perdue, Cliff Levingston, Craig Hodges and a light dose of BJ Armstrong was about it.

The Bulls were fast and wanted to push the ball when they got it. Typically, Pippen ran point guard and let Michael take the shots. Big guys underneath were to stay around the basket and clean up misses when necessary.

Many of the Bulls admitted to being nervous in the first game of the finals. For the Lakers, it was simply that time of year again.

Jordan blew up early in Game 1 scoring 15 points in the first quarter which came mostly on dunks. Perkins kept the Lakers in it with his stroke from the outside. LA started throwing the whole team at Jordan when he got the ball. The strategy worked limiting MJ to under ten points in the second and third quarters combined and wearing him out in the process. Jordan became winded late in the third quarter and had to check himself out of the game. The breather helped him take over when he returned, as he shot on every possession for the Bulls. Chicago was up two and looking good with the Lakers down to their last possession.

Sam Perkins cooly knocked down a big three, his third of the game, and gave the Lakers a 1-0 lead as MJ’s eighteen foot game-winner rimmed out.

Magic ended with his day-at-the-office triple-double (19 10 10), and MJ ended with 36 points and 12 assists in the loss. The Bulls role players failed to hit some key shots when they got the chance, and Sam Perkins made points when the Lakers absolutely needed them. The Czar, Mike Fratello, expected the Bulls to change their strategy for game two.

Where Lightning Strikes

The Earth rotates at 1000 mph but it doesn’t seem like it’s moving that fast. That’s what watching Usain Bolt is like. How can a human move at quantum speeds without being in a hurry?

Say what you will about Michael Phelps, but Lightning Bolt is the stuff of legend. Never before have I seen an athlete dominate the best competition in the world without giving it his or her all. The 6'5'’ Jamaican road runner eased up at the end of the 100m dash to wave his arms and pound his chest in celebration on his way to a gold medal and a new world record.

The Bears’ Devon Hester has a fifth gear. Spanish soccer star Fernando Torres could maybe get it up to sixth. Lightning Bolt coasts in eighth. Speeding near 30 miles-per-hour, the other competitors could only catch a fleeting glimpse of Lightning as he separated himself from the rest of the pack seconds into the race.

Bolt matched his glittery gold track shoes nicely with his new Olympic hardware, Jamaica’s first ever gold medal in the event. He’ll drop the worlds jaw once more in the 200m, his preferred event. I’ll someday tell my grandchildren about the great Lightning Bolt. About the man who moves so fast he looks slow. They won’t believe me, but would you?

Mojokong - mouth agape

China, Brazil and North Korea

A good time to be a human taxi.

For those of you unfamiliar with my opinion of cars, it briefly sounds like this: cars are waste of money, resource, and all too often, lives.

China, the beast in the east, the country that gives the middle finger to time zones and free speech, is banning people from driving cars to help with pollution and congestion for the upcoming Olympics. If your license plate number ends with an odd number you can’t drive today. If it’s an even number, you can’t drive tomorrow, and so on. I realize that schematically this would take a while to fly here, but it’s an idea worth mulling over.

Maybe we could try it two days a month for starters. Allow working folk to plan ahead with car-pooling, grocery shopping, and the like. Then, when people seem to be getting it, try it one day a week. If the shift away from privately-owned automobiles is to someday happen, it would take gradual measures like this to wean the American public from the gasoline teat.

China certainly isn’t taking such measures for any other reason than to save face concerning the putrid air quality in its Olympic-sized cities - they’ve always been more red than green - and the last thing China needs is more rules imposed on its people, but the notion should be encouraged to America to someday give an idea like this a shot.

News from Bizarro World

Reports surfaced last year of some infighting in the Bush camp between Cheaney and Condi over the strategy of handling talks with North Korea. Last week, Ms. Rice seemed to have won the battle, making breakthroughs with the bass-ackward country that has finally allowed food and medical aid to its starving population. Of course, Darth Cheaney and his “hard-liners” are disappointed with the outcome saying we gave away too much in the deal, as if it were a trade for young pitching prospects. Skeptics on the left complained the agreements took too long and that they could have plenty of weapon-grade plutonium by now that could still be used or sold off to other evil nations.

Either way, literally millions of people should be spared from starving to death thanks to the recent agreements and while it’s painful to write, the Bush administration seems to have actually done something positive interacting with an ‘enemy’ nation. I’m still extremely skeptical that there isn’t some super-shady, behind-the-scenes corporate involvement in all of this humanitarian optimism, but for now, it looks good on paper.

- B. Clifton Burke

Brazilian Energy

Short piece on Brazil seeking entrance into OPEC. Also gives some insight into President Lula. Seems to me the left is moving to the center in Latin America, thus gaining more of a political foothold - Lula seems to be a prime example, someone in power that understands the reality that capitalism is going nowhere, therefore solutions (realistic ones at least) must work within the system. In the past many leftist candidates were overtly Marxist-Socialist-Communist oriented.

I think leftists in the US could take some lessons from this type of thinking - that even if you cannot find the perfect candidate, realism must take hold. I tend to believe that the major political parties in this country are more similar than different, but certainly having Obama in power versus McCain would be good news for the most people in the world. That's enough to get my ass to the polls I suppose. I think we need to encourage this type of thinking among fatalistic/apathetic liberals. Living life on principle at all times won't get you very far...

So, that was very tangential to the article about biofuels, but oh well...

- Aaron Howell

June 25, 2008

Exxon/Exxoff
Looks like Exxon Valdez was let off the hook by the supreme court, cutting the total they owe to local inhabitants of the disaster area from $2.5 billion to $500 million. Interesting note: Judge Alito was not allowed to vote because he owns stock in Exxon.

The real story here is that Exxon will continue to appeal the ruling for the next few hundred years. They will drag their feet on this issue until they're knee-deep in concrete. The surviving animals and people harmed by this spill will all be dead before Exxon writes a check. Or, the oil company will have successfully dwindled the amount to $0 through shrewd legal manuevering. Either way, a drunk sea captain's mishap will be swept under the rug and only those directly affected by it (which is mostly wildlife) will remember.

What about me?
Four Americans died in another roadside bomb yesterday in Iraq. Three were soldiers and one was an interpreter, yet the New York Times headline reads, "3 U.S. soldiers killed by bomb in Iraq." In the lede sentence, the paper mentions the fourth casualty but being concpicously absent from the headline suggests that soldiers deaths are more important than others working in some non-combative capacity in the war. It's subtle, but we need to keep a close eye on the way media outlets provide us with bite-sized nuggets of information.

More and more, our rushed, overworked society read about current events as they tick across the bottom of the screen on cable news networks or skimming the small blurbs on internet news sites. Ignoring "the whole story" gives tremendous powers of influence to the storyteller, highlighting what sells, and hiding what doesn't. We should be a nation of skeptics when it comes to spoon fed news.

Flying bats
I've said that it's only a matter of time before somebody on a baseball field is hit with a shard of broken bat. An umpire suffered a gash to the head by a sharp piece of a maple wood bat last night in Kansas City.

These bats are splintering all over the infield these days and it truly is dangerous. These pieces can be large wooden stakes that would have no problem impaling someone. Maple bats are made of cheap, light wood that simply can't hold up to baseball's standards. Players should have to adjust to ash bats (although I hear the Emerald ash borer is a current problem concerning ash bats), and eliminate the greater threat of injuries to everyone on the field and in the stands. It's one thing to get hit with a ball - that has to suck and could still be lethal - but a heavy broken bat is a lot harder to catch, or even avoid.

Adam Dunn has used up an entire forest of maple trees this year alone. The man breaks a bat a week it seems. Maybe a heavier ash bat would make him go the other way sometimes and raise that batting average. Just a thought.

-B. Clifton Burke

Stepping Out of the Kiddie Pool:
Monday, May 02, 2005

Today I woke up with one of those, “I need to grow up a little bit” attitudes. It’s time to really step up to the plate and live like an adult. No more excuses to myself, nor to anyone else. If I want to create some type of immediate family - which I do - it’s time to prepare for one. I would like to embrace the true meaning of carpe diem, which is “seize the day”. Not my meaning which has morphed to, “fuck it, I’m playing hoop with you guys instead of going to class”.
My academic progress is controlled by one thing...my lazy ass. I enjoy thinking aloud that I take less classes in order to ensure that I’m not overwhelmed, and achieve higher marks because of this. But if anything I’ve become underwhelmed in my studies. I do well without trying, which is obviously comfortable. But what lesson do I learn from success that comes easily? I’ve become a ridiculous procrastinator often times turning in decent work instead of well thought out, organized work. My time management is bad, my study skills worse, I’m less than punctual, and rarely appear in control of much responsibility. I have vast potential to blow this Earth out of the water, but have yet to muster enough courage to tap into that potential.
It starts with the small stuff. Wake up!!! Dreaming is cool but it accomplishes little. At night, ask yourself, “Self. Is watching the fourth quarter of a thirteen point game in the first round of the NBA playoffs worth sacrificing a shower tomorrow morning for”? My mind usually counters with, “what if I miss an amazing buzzer-beating comeback win”? But the more sensible question would be, “what if I miss the number seventeen bus, and miss the review for an accounting three test, which I fail and get a ‘C’ for the term”? A healthy, young, strapping buck like myself, probably doesn’t need eight hours of dreamy bliss every damn night. Drink more water, and get ya ass outta bed! (Any advice can be accompanied with drink more water).
General consideration for others is another quality which needs constant attention. I’ve become selfishly numb of friends/family/strangers feelings, which can build, quickly sometimes, into a volcanic eruption. Thinking even more before reacting might be a good practice when interacting with people.
Time management. Whoa... that’s a biggie. Let’s face it, I’ve got a shit load of time. Admittedly, much of that is wasted on ...um...forgettable activities that I’ll wished I’d stayed away from when I’m dying. I don’t want to live with much regret of the ways I’ve spent my time. So the challenge here is discovering the fine line of enjoying life to the fullest, while handling moral responsibilities. I need to get tougher with the latter, or I’ll never truly experience the former. Realistic planning and goal setting, then sticking to it, is the recipe to successful time management. I know it, so why do I not execute it? Laziness, weakness to temptation, selfishness to do what I want. Whack!
Let’s watch me gain some positive momentum into a crucial stretch in my life. Pound out school, acquire some more financial stability, provide more diligently for Mojo, help out more, watch TV less (including sports), read, don’t forget about God, finish your story then write others, think about my future and how I want it to be. Also, the whole relying on other people for major logistic support, has grown tiresome for myself and all involved (you know who you are). If it can’t be done without the assistance of friends/family than find another way dammit. I need to suck it up and stop being “that guy”. The next few will be the window years. I better at least be able to look through as many as possible. Play time’s not over, it’s just gotz to chill.
Mojokong the Contemplative

Some religions are a collective agreement of an ancient person’s interpretation of their natural environment.
In various time frames throughout history, select men have, on paper, spoken with God. These men were blessed with such an honor for living the way God had intended we humans to live. There are, of course, no more such privileged men now because Mohamed perfected God’s message, which was perfectly written down and has been preserved perfectly ever since.
By and large, people concede there is an outer space which does contain other planets, like the one we live on here. God probably created those too, right? So now we go into the fact that we’re intelligent life forms. That’s why we have the intellect to understand our relationship with God enough to have a soul. Unlike dogs, or dolphins, we have free will, and that already puts us on a higher spiritual plateau. It’s how we use it that will separate our souls once the big Apocalypse rolls around.
The point is this, if life cropped up on, lets say Saturn’s moon Titan for instance. Just a basic simple organism, growing from an environment made up almost entirely of nitrogen. God isn’t concerned with that because it isn’t intelligent enough to understand God, cant make free will decisions, and is therefore ignored by God. And if life evolved on Titan (not that life evolved here, I’m not saying that), and became intelligent enough to send us an encrypted radio signal that made no mention of any God fellow in it, they would still be ignored by God because they would not look like man, and therefore wouldn’t have been created in God’s image. After all, God likes the human look with hair and hands, not some weird crustacean submerged in an ocean of liquid nitrogen.
The prophets never spoke with God, because of a variety of reasons.
1. God is cosmic, not Earthly, except for the fact that Earth is part of the cosmos. God is nature not human, except for the fact that humans are part of nature. God’s favoritism toward Earth and it’s humans is, like the wind favoring leaves to blow around instead of sand. The wind blows everything it touches, no matter what’s in its way.
2. What the prophets thought was God speaking to them was the powerful combination of wisdom, reason, and logic, forming truths of reality. Sometimes ideas that have lived a long time alone in the shadows of someone’s mind, will come out, have a drink, and start to mingle a little with other lonely ideas. Eventually these ideas hook-up, and produce a new idea so sensible and helpful, that the man who owns the mind and it’s ideas will believe that he is incapable of forming such a truth of reality. Now here’s the kicker. Other people will say that this logical, practical, reasonable, clear truth of the world is indeed false. In short, it sounded so good at the time, that it was hard to believe any man could have such a thought in his human brain. So they decided that God must be communicating to that person in some obscure way. Not directly per say, but through some means of telepathy. The term Angel was born to describe the telepathic communications they perceived as taking place.

Beads! We know the story well. Four hundred years ago, the Whites came across a new continent, a big one, and needed a massive workload to properly dominate it’s resources. They certainly didn’t ponder this issue long. Hmmm...who could we work the hardest and pay the least? “I know”, said a white man with a white wig, “Got any shiny beads?” The Africans fell for the bead trick. So did the Indians. So did the Mayans, Incans, and Aborigines. Damn beads!

“Chain of Events”


The space between continents is vast, separated by sea. The space between planets is vast, separated by junky satellites and government issued sound waves. The amount of physical land, on which humans dwell is microscopic on a larger scale. There are only three billion people in existence. Not on planet earth...anywhere. And somehow, you and I are one of those.
How did I get a ticket to the big dance? I suppose I don’t really care. I’m here, breathing oxygen, laughing, smoking pot. In fact, I’ve had the ability to become friends with another species of mammals, who happens to be more rare than humans. I am truly grateful to stand on our little rock, and alter the lives of others. To that small organism that once lived on a blade of grass, in a park, next to a river, in Ohio... I am sorry I killed you.
Mojokong 2004 A.D.

“The Wading Pool”

There is a woman who wants me.
There is a woman I want.
They aren’t the same woman,
yet both have a cunt.
So when the woman I want suggests that I punt,
I call up the other and forget with a blunt.

Mojokong - 2006A.D.

I don’t have one nice thing. My computer is $400 tops.. I’m twenty-seven and have owned a car for about three months in my life. My furniture is one small step up from a homeless shelter’s. A really crappy recliner, a futon that needs to lean on a wall to function, a coffee table that looks like wood but weighs like 8 ounces, a decent rocking chair, and a broken speaker that works as a lamp table. Oh yeah, some wobbly metal shelves and a dented mini fridge. I have a PS 2 with two broken controllers that we still try to play with, and two football games. A 19 inch TV that looks bruised on the sides from discoloration. I don’t have a printer, scanner, digital camera, or an ipod for my computer. I have a bed that my ex girlfriend and perhaps others sleep on every night, at her apartment which I’m not even sure where that is. I have a dog, who’s an old mutt with early signs of arthritis. I have a bunch of books most of which are second hand and some outdated useless textbooks. My backpack’s zipper is broken and I can’t quite zip it closed all the way I have a suit that’s too big, five collard shirts; three are plaid, I don’t own any dress shoes or a tie. Or dress socks. I have a leather jacket that I wore once before Andy’s dog ripped the shit out of the front of it. I have a really dilapidated, dusty ass guitar that I’ve played a combined three minutes. I have a few broken space heaters that are major fire hazards. I live in a cold basement at my dad’s house. I make $400 a month. I have about thirty five bucks in change...that’s nice.
This sounds like the profile of Grounds Keeper Willie.

Bob. My Dad. More unique than you know. Not one of a kind, because you and I know many people with pieces of him, but not anyone’s all that much like him. I always catch myself shaking my head at him, constantly amazed at his insight to life. That’s what it is. He literally sees life differently from us. Never have I seen a person seize the moment like my dad. The way Kobe is able to see the game he plays in slow motion, Bob plays life that way. He’s a hard worker, and a good parent. He’s the most thoughtful guy you could ask for and truly takes pleasure in helping folks who need some.

Dad’s humor is a calling card to his personality. A punster for life. He loves his classics, which I use regularly out of habit. He makes smiles like Gates makes money, affecting whole rooms sometimes. He can be the central nervous system to some parties, and always chooses the most complimentary things to say when conversing with any woman. His romantic endeavors are tactical missile strikes equipped with flowers and homemade cards. The CIA wishes they could operate so efficiently.

As a parent he’s gone to imaginative limits to positively entertain his kids. It doesn’t take too long of a look to see he tries his best for his kids. If I’m ever a parent, I could only wish I would be able to be such a terrific dad. He’s the greatest.

There was a moment, in Italy for his fiftieth birthday, where his friends and family were going around the table toasting him. It came to be my turn and instead of saying how I truly felt, I wilted under the spotlight knowing the importance of the moment. I said something unimpressive enough that no one remembers it today. He is my favorite thing. I have no kids, no wife. I love my mom, my sister, and my dog. But there could never be anything like Dad. I value our time together, I know it wont be forever. To my Dad, Bob Burke.

I want a woman to write about. I want a woman who knows how to socialize but leaves with me. I want a woman who makes me laugh because she’s funny and not just cute. I want a woman who is wild sometimes and loving others. I want her to want me, not just accept me. I want a woman who touches me first. I want a woman who trusts me, though I’d have to prove that to both of us first. I want a woman who can love me now, not how I was or how I might turn out. I want her to motivate me for more, and not let either of us settle for less. I want a woman who sometimes makes me feel foolish. I want a woman to grow old with. A woman I profess my genuine gratitude toward during the quiet, loving moments throughout life. A woman who tells me she loves me when the time is right, not every day or every time we speak on the phone. I want to rub her back and her feet after a long day and hold her when she needs to cry. I want to love someone so much it hurts. I want a woman who loves me for my perspective, and I for her’s. I want a woman who looks great in her underwear. A woman who rolls her eyes at me when I gripe about petty things. I want her to challenge me, to sass me. I want to do extra, thoughtful things for her so she can brag about me to her mother and friends. I want a woman to share each other’s problems with. I want a woman to sleep in with, to drink with, to go on vacation with. I want a woman who is proud of me. A woman who makes me feel proud of myself. I want a woman who my friends, and sometimes complete strangers feel they need to remind me of how wonderful she is. I want a woman who smiles. A woman who dresses smartly. A woman who sings in the shower. I want her to be spontaneous with her ambitions and affections. I want a woman to notice the little things I do everyday I perceive as helpful. I want a woman who doesn’t have to ask if I’m upset. I want a woman who finds it difficult to resist me. A woman who is unabashed in her passions for me. A woman who does not feel subservient to me. A woman who takes good care of herself and is proud of who she is. A woman who enjoys my lust for her. I want a woman who will love me.

A person who knows me very well, said today that I’ve become a cynical nerd. This person sighed as they explained to me that it’s ok and that they’ve become used to it. I was surprised at how much it hurt my feelings.

Perhaps I have become a bit salty. I find myself easily frustrated and put off by those around me. I have to work hard to keep my judgments of others in check. I allow little things to irritate me and scarcely demonstrate much patients to strangers.

I’m frustrated with my life. I feel ignored. I feel like my individuality isn’t as celebrated as my social statuses, which are measly. Women can’t take me seriously because I don’t own a car.


MK

Earth: Let's just buy a new one.

80 years ago, I’d be arrested for expressing the following views. Today, no one cares enough for them to matter. I don’t know what’s worse.

The social architects, by their political, economic and historical means, have successfully created a group of individuals who are drugged, distracted, ultra-competitive and dangerously impulsive. We are so removed from one another as a society, that we lose focus of the world outside of our immediate bubble. It’s worrisome to think a collective spirit of a nation has been broken from luxuries and advertisement. We are provided just enough cell phone service, cable television, air conditioning, clean (although poisoned) drinking water, big cars, and many other nice things most of the world lives without, that we keep our heads down and do what we’re told. How are we told? Through the bombardment of advertisements we encounter every second of our day. I dare you to look around your area and not immediately identify a corporate logo or label. The symbols of companies and businesses are literally everywhere. The moon will soon be, Moon: brought to you by Zantac ®, and copyright infringements will be actionable to any who fail to refer to it as that.

We Americans buy so much crap due to our willingness to dispose of our existing crap. If we put a even a minute effort into improving what already exists, we wouldn’t have to pillage natural resources like it’s an eating contest. I think it’s great that we recycle, but many use that sentiment to rationalize their extreme consumerism and waste.

On that note, does the world still need Styrofoam? I watched ten people enter the break room at the library today carrying a Styrofoam food container or a Styrofoam cup or both. I’ve gone to the measure of avoiding places where they’ll force Styrofoam on me, like Silverglades. While I love their food and their place, to give me a Styrofoam plate when I dine in is more than my conscious can handle. I’ve began asking if I can have food wrapped up in a wax paper and no bag if I can manage it. My everyday coffee cup, my everyday water bottle. No paper towels to dry my hands. No one has to be an environmental hero. By doing the little things, you’re doing your part.



This rant wouldn’t be complete if I didn’t draw attention to the cigarette smokers of the world who find it acceptable to discard their smoldering trash anywhere outdoors. We know you’re better than that.

-B. Clifton Burke