counter customizable free hit

July 27, 2006

Why Dogs Are Almost Always Better Than Women

by Joshua Minton

Okay, I'll admit it--the title of this post came from a great line from season 2 of Carnivale when the Archangel tells the young Scutter, "I've known lots of women in my lifetime--nothing but backstabbing bitches and outhouse whores. In fact, the more I get to know women; the better I like dogs." Now, I don't care who you are--that's just great writing!

But seriously though--the majority of males are not destined to be drooled over by co-workers and women in the street. Taking myself as an example--I'm a good looking guy but I'm short and lots of women don't like short men--they want the tall drink of water with the wavy locks and the 5 0'clock shadow--the guy who nods a lot and makes cool hand gestures that say "let it ride, baby--it's all good because I was born beautiful and if you want this skin bus to take a trip into tuna town that's alright with me. Daddy's here to play."

See, I could say the same stuff and most likely pull it off better (because I've got game) but the problem is that because of my shortness, not too many chicks were hanging on my every word and ogling me as I walked across campus (speaking of back in the day before I was married and in a committed relationship, of course). So, I had to work at it--I had to develop my game. I had to first see these women as people and then work on them from the inside out.

Now, since most women are as superficial and thick as the tin foil covering a block of velveeta--this meant that my prospects were automatically weeded thin before I even joined the hunt. The really hot ones were out with the jocks and dick heads on their first dates while I was on my fifth phone call with them (and they always called me after their dates). That's right, I found myself playing the "friend" role often but I wasn't a pussy like Ducky in Pretty in Pink--I tried to ring the bell every time. But I had to learn the signals of the game.

And it is a game that these ladies want to play.

Look, women may be attracted to the mimbos of the world and they usually sleep with them and keep them on their mental shelves like little trophy wisps of memory that they can go to in their minds and rub and polish to remind them that they were once beautiful and could attract the five star mimbos with the underdeveloped sex skills (because they rarely had to work at and therefore didn't appreciate it enough).

But folks, I appreciated it. I worshiped every woman I ever slept with, even the ones I didn't talk to after the second time (they always got two chances to sink their hooks in the Overlord, your host and senior correspondent of the BWP blog). Hell, I still say a prayer every now and then for all the girls who gave me a disease free harbor to temporarily park my genitalia. But the honeymoon of the flesh must always end and that's where the journey of the mind and emotion begins.

I put a hell of a lot of women through a hell of a lot of mental torture in my lifetime. What can I say, it runs in the family. My dad was a son of a bitch to the women in his life and don't even get me started on what his dad did. But my dad is also one of the kindest and lovable people I know--luckily, he passed this trait on to me.

But I torture my dog also. I tease her insistently. I agitate those around me because I believe that every living being must be in a constant state of manageable stress in order to thrive and learn and grow. And I do it to test loyalty. I'll admit it--I'm a son of a bitch also when it comes to the women in my life. I can't count the number of females I've driven out of the Minton Diaspora with my periodic bouts of madness where I sever emotional bonds, wound the other person to the point of rapture, and then reengage in the hopes to form an even deeper bond that goes beyond the petty bullshit membrane in which most people live their lives and base their relationships upon.

I mean, god dammit--life is pain and the only relationships worth having should have battle scars and dried blood stains on the sheets. I once had a woman tell me that she never felt so full when I was inside her and so empty when trying to engage me emotionally. Now, thanks to the work my amazing wife has done with me--I'm a much better person than I was ten years ago. I respect women more. But I still have periodic bouts of madness--(I am convinced that all wickedly intelligent people do; especially any writer worth a shit)--where I sever emotional ties and grow as cold and distant as the Martian surface at night.

So, I don't think I can honestly say that dogs are better than women but if I'm being honest--I can say that in the majority of my sexually active past--I didn't treat most of the women in my life any better or any different than I would have treated a dog. And there are times (too many) when I'm a son of a bitch to my wife but I try to do the things, think the thoughts, and feel the emotions that a good man would feel if he lived life through my eyes. I guess that's the best any of us can do, right?

But I guess if I had to pick a reason why dogs are better than women, I'd say it's because dogs are stupid enough to come back quietly every time--even when it's your own son of a bitch fault.








Permalink

DIGG THIS | del.icio.us


Other Posts in the Category: Personal


July 26, 2006

Remember That Time that I Covered Jimmy Buffett?

by Joshua Minton

The Christian" is one of the great Jimmy Buffett songs of all time.




Permalink

DIGG THIS | del.icio.us


Other Posts in the Category:


The Lesson of Sherman

by Joshua Minton

I am just about sick of Thomas Sowell stealing all my good ideas before I think of them. Seriously, I had a great historical comparison with all the peace-above-all idiots and Sherman's march through Atlanta. I was going to say how cruel it would have been if Sherman would have stopped after burning Atlanta to the ground. Could you imagine what the South would have been like if the rebellion wasn't brought totally under heel by continuing on through Southern Georgia and onto the end of the war.

Sowell actually carries that thought way further (as he always does in his masterful way) and states outright that peace movements always lead to more war. Consider the words of Master Sowell:
The most catastrophic result of "peace" movements was World War II. While Adolf Hitler was arming Germany to the teeth, "peace" movements in Britain were advocating that their own country disarm "as an example to others."

British Labor Party members of Parliament voted consistently against military spending and British college students publicly pledged never to fight for their country. If "peace" movements brought peace, there would never have been World War II.

Not only did that war lead to tens of millions of deaths, it came dangerously close to a crushing victory for the Nazis in Europe and the Japanese empire in Asia. And we now know that the United States was on Hitler’s timetable after that.

For the first two years of that war, the Western democracies lost virtually every battle, all over the world, because prewar "peace" movements had left them with inadequate military equipment and much of it obsolete. The Nazis and the Japanese knew that. That is why they launched the war.

"Peace" movements don’t bring peace; they bring war.


LINKS:
Thomas Sowell's Column

Permalink

DIGG THIS | del.icio.us


Other Posts in the Category: History, Politics & Sociology


Let's All Pause a Moment...

by Joshua Minton

...and reflect on the time that Kelsey Grammer fell off the stage in front of a live audience.


Permalink

DIGG THIS | del.icio.us


Other Posts in the Category:


July 23, 2006

On Writing for the Ideal Reader

by Joshua Minton

Stephen King always talks about writing for his ideal reader (who he says is his wife). I have several ideal readers and one of them is JD over at the Mouth of Brazos blog. He has one of the strictest blogrolls around and often undertakes blood purges as ruthless and brutal as the ones the Nazis led in the mid-1930s.

So far I've made the cut every time but every time I run off at the mouth on the spiritual side of war or riff on a liberal theme, I can't help but think if this post will contribute to JD one day saying, "the hell with him."

But I have a feeling that JD just doesn't want to be bored anymore. Life is boring enough. Politics is boring enough. Shit, even war is boring enough anymore. Why should intelligent people giving their thoughts away for free add to each others' boredom?

So, one of my goals with every post is to keep it raw, keep it real, and keep JD coming back. I have other ideal readers but I thought I'd shine the spotlight on one of them today and thank him for coming back to keep up with my site.

LINKS:
JD's Latest Blood Purge

Permalink

DIGG THIS | del.icio.us


Other Posts in the Category:


The Conundrum of Protecting Children Against Sexual Predators

by Joshua Minton

I have a friend whose husband just bought a $1,300 digital camera. Naturally, he has been jazzed about going out to take pictures. Well, the other day, he was walking around his condo complex, taking close-ups of flowers and plants in the rain. He had the camera strapped around his neck when he was walking by the pool which was populated with splashing children and their parents.

Well, the 18-year old girl working in the condo office just happened to look outside the window as he was walking by the pool and saw his camera and assumed he was taking pictures of half-naked children for his own perverted amusement.

So she called the cops.

Within five minutes, there were three police cruisers with opened doors and shouting cops shoving this poor dude up against the condo pool house and demanding that he relinquish his camera so they could check the memory stick. There were four pictures of the peppers they were growing on their back porch, two pictures of vines growing on the top of a brick hedge and three pictures of some purple flower with rain droplets on them. There were no people in any pictures on the camera.

The cops didn't even apologize when they let him go but thankfully they also didn't write him up formally either--you can't get a charge like that off your record.

So, my friend was royally pissed off the next day when I talked to her. She was going to get a lawyer and sue the complex. I shared her outrage but later that day when the following story broke in Columbus, I changed my mind:
As her 17-month-old son lay limp — his eyes rolled back in his head — on the couch downstairs, Billie Hilleary awakened Tuesday night to a flurry of apologies.

They came, she said, from her boyfriend, John M. White.

"He came up and woke me up and said, ‘He’s not breathing! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!’ and just kept saying, ‘I’m sorry’ over and over again," the 22-year-old mother said yesterday.

By night’s end, Hilleary was told that her son, Jaydon Hoberg, had died. She also learned from police that he had been raped, and that White had admitted to the sexual assault.
Now, my friend's husband is a really nice guy and nobody deserves to be treated that way. The cops were too harsh and too unapologetic but that is a symptom of society, not the issue which they were called in to regulate. The fact is that there are some sick fuckers out there preying on the most innocent among us and these people could be anybody (even good friends), so we as parents and moral citizens must be ever vigilant and pre-emptively vengeful towards these half-notched lunatics whose brains are so miswired that they generate sexual desire from the site of a young child.

So while I'm not happy that he was treated in the manner he was, I actually applaud that 18-year old's vigilance and quick action which did lead to an immediate resolution and ensured that those children playing in that pool were protected despite the lack of danger. My friend and her husband are DINKS (dual-income, no kids) and perhaps don't understand this reaction from a parent; someday they might, though.

LINKS:
Credit Card Firms to Cancel Pedophiles Accounts Who Use Their Cards to Pay for Child Pornography

TAGS:
,

Permalink

DIGG THIS | del.icio.us


Other Posts in the Category: Politics & Sociology


July 21, 2006

Joshua Minton On Good Writers and Great Writers

by Joshua Minton





I don't think you can truly be a good writer unless you've fallen in love 14 times and you can't be a great writer unless you've been burnt beyond recognition 13 of those times.





Permalink

DIGG THIS | del.icio.us


Other Posts in the Category:


July 20, 2006

Victory without Effort

by Joshua Minton

What we are looking for is victory without effort. We want to be swept up into something like a small, safe, successful war.

--Carl Sagan, Billions and Billions: Thoughts on Life and Death at the Brink of the Millennium


This quote from the second chapter of this Sagan book really struck me for some reason today, given what is happening in the Middle East right now. Peace in our time? I say, when did humanity ever have peace in any time? We have crawled from the muck as a species and much of that muck still fills the innocent and empty hearts as they are indoctrinated into this wicked system of sociology which we have ignorantly convinced ourselves is the only smart way to live.

As I grow older and continue to study the activities of man on the grand scale we call politics, the less I trust in the inherent goodness of process and policy to guide each of us to justice. I don't believe salvation comes from the church or the Bible, nor do I believe it comes from the babbling brook of bullshit which comes out of Congress, the Supreme Court, and especially the White House nowadays.

I even wince now when watching how uncomfortable Tony Snow (a fellow Cincinnatian and high school football rival) seems to be when up on the podium. It's because he's standing on a mountain of steaming bullshit and he's sinking in deeper every day while trying to convince everyone else that the smell in the room was just Helen Thomas farting out of her mouth.

I'm not a big sports fan but my passion for politics and following war (doesn't matter whose fighting) can't be that far removed from the passion of the Cheese Heads or the soccer nuts who kill each other in droves each year.

Consider this passage from the same chapter as the quote above:
The human species is hundreds of thousands of years old (the human family several millions of years old). We have led a sedentary existence--based on farming and domestication of animals--for only the last 3 percent of that period, during which is all our recorded history. In the first 97 percent of our tenure on Earth, almost everything that is characteristically human came into being.
Sagan goes on to argue that for millions of years, hunting and engaging in territorial wars for living space and access to food was human society and that this became as ingrained to the newborn human mammal as standing upright moments after being born is to a foal.

But where does it end? We know where the human life ends--death, every time without exception (despite what Christians will tell you) so why do we need to take it past that? Why do we have to invent the wildest nonsense about what happens after we die? Why can't we just sit with our own death, with the ending of us as individuals--all our pains, miseries, memories (both good and bad), the claim on our possessions and the figments of our imaginations we expect others to accept as ultimate truth?

Why can't we just sit in silence or, as Maynard said, "Why can't we just be sober?" What if we begin from that silence where we have accepted our inevitable ending? What if we experience that ending in the moment and then look at the world with truly newborn eyes?

What would war look like to someone who was dead but still drew breath? What would bullets fired in the name of self-righteous deities be to those who had left those childish figments behind for the utter simplicity of the one thing we all know to be true fact--that each of us will one day end?

All I can do is shake my head in amazement as the dredge of humanity plays out the last strands of their monkey genetics in the litter box of the Middle East, blood running between grains of sand that would be considered next to worthless in the desert of the North American continent but is somehow revered as a holy bullshit historic golden calf, some trinket to be placed on a shelf and mumbled over and shuffled around like an old man in a nursing home who has lost his dentures along with his mind.

Maybe all sandy shit holes are built for nuclear explosions. Maybe we'll all be better off when all the deserts of this world are filled with radioactive contamination and the mutilated carcasses of human beings who lived in poverty and died of diseases that could have been cured if the resources of our species had been allocated to the machinery of health rather than the gears of war.

Or maybe Jesus or Muhammed or the ghost of Ghandi really will sneak in the back door when nobody's looking and pull the rug out from under the Masters of War.

Maybe people will stop being so god damned mean to each other.

And maybe all the women I've ever loved in my life will suddenly realize that despite my short stature and explosive temper, I really am a sexy genius and they will each come to join my harem like birds flying south in the winter by instinct.

Maybe...

NOTES:
Photo Courtesy of EW

TAGS:
,, , , , ,

Permalink

DIGG THIS | del.icio.us


Other Posts in the Category: Politics & Sociology


July 19, 2006

Pictures of World Leaders Through Their Lives

by Joshua Minton

Check out this page which has pictures of world leaders throughout their lives. Pretty interesting.

Permalink

DIGG THIS | del.icio.us


Other Posts in the Category: History


Thoughts on Math

by Joshua Minton


When I was a kid, I had a cat named Frank Zappa who looked a bit like Hitler. This cat loved to play with balled up cigarette packs. You'd crinkle them up (I didn't smoke them--my mother's boyfriend did) and toss them and the cat would spring to life like a hard on with the right honey whispering in your ear. She'd jump up in the air, bat the cellophane ball out of the air and the chase was on.

But five minutes later she was back snoozing on the couch and we must have found hundreds of balled up cigarette wrappers. The cat was mildly interested but quickly lost it after the novelty of the moment wore off.

That's how I am with math; I can appreciate it for its philosphical value but I don't have the passion that it takes to really devote oneself to the subject.

But then along comes Carl Sagan to rekindle a brief passion. Say what you want about Carl Sagan, he's one of my heroes. I remember Duff's Earth Science class my sophomore year of high school--he had this huge blown up picture of him shaking hands with Carl Sagan. Very cool!

Anyway, I picked up my copy of Billions and Billions: Thoughts on Life and Death at the Brink of the Millennium which was published shortly after Sagan's death in 1997. The first chapter included a nice little exposition on exponential notation with an overall lesson that mathematics is the only perfect language because those who understand it on both ends have a crystal clear communication of positive, negative, and the balance of sums on both sides of the equation.

I can appreciate this philosophy up to the point of intermediate Algebra and then I lose the skills and the language to communicate with the numerically proficient of my species.

So, here's a great big BWP shout out to the ghost of Carl Sagan and the math nerds who keep the numbers equal on both sides of the equation.

Watch Carl Sagan Sprech About Evolution


NOTES:
  • Picture Courtesy of Fantastic Bastard via E-Mail


LINKS:
Carl Sagan Dot Com

TAGS:
,

Permalink

DIGG THIS | del.icio.us


Other Posts in the Category:


July 18, 2006

I'm Throwing in On the Side of HD-DVD

by Joshua Minton

This past week, Major Nelson (of XBOX 360 blogging fame) interviewed two dudes from Microsoft's Digital Media Empire and they explain, in candid and lurid detail, the differences in the two High Definition digital DVD formats and why Microsoft decided to back the HD-DVD format. After listening to this, I am so glad that I decided to buy an XBOX 360 and that I will be purchasing the HD-DVD add-on when it comes out this Christmas season.

Here are some things I learned:
  • Blue-Ray is a format where the data is burned closer to the surface on the discs and is therefore subject to damage from even the most minute abrasions. In fact, originally, the Blue-Ray was housed in a cartridge but this format was rejected because nobody wanted to go back to using cartridges.

  • HD-DVD has a much more efficient and effective system of compression (codecs) than Blue-Ray does and has a far better picture quality despite Blue-Ray's higher data storage capability

  • Blue-Ray has TWO levels of copy protection and this draconian effort by both Sony and several studios (including Disney) will only bring hardships to those wanting to purchase and use the discs (and we all know hackers will break the code within weeks or months)

  • The HD-DVD format allows for the sale of hybrid discs which means that one side of the disc would have a movie that can be played in any normal DVD player today but the flip side is HD, meaning we can buy discs now and watch them in our cheap players but still be able to watch HD-DVD when the prices drop as market presence increases

  • The XBOX 360's HD-DVD drive will be an add-on so the consumer has a choice whether to purchase it or not but the PS3 owner has to subsidize the technology regardless of whether they want it or not (and at $500+ Sony is still taking a bath for each unit).

To me, it looks like Sony is about to take a very hard fall (especially in the Minton household where you won't be finding a Playstation 3 or a Blue-Ray DVD player.

I highly recommend listening to this episode for a master's degree in the High Definition digital format and possibility of what HD-DVD is going to bring to the home entertainment revolution going on all around us.

LINKS:
Major Nelson's Podcast About HD-DVD vs. BlueRay

TAGS:
, , , ,, ,



Permalink

DIGG THIS | del.icio.us


Other Posts in the Category: Science and Technology


July 17, 2006

Watch John Stossel's "Stupid in America"

by Joshua Minton



I love John Stossel's work. I think he's the only honest reporter left in the media (with the possible exception of Lou Dobbs). Every one of Stossel's in-depth exposes leaves you feeling that government truly is the root of all evil (or rather it's the average person's sheep-like dependence on government to perform functions that even the weakest spirits of the 1900s considered the domain of individual responsibility) and this show is no exception.

Permalink

DIGG THIS | del.icio.us


Other Posts in the Category: Politics & Sociology


Conjunction Video #2: Bushwood Strikes Back

by Joshua Minton




Here's another juxtapositioned gem from Ed Mueller, hosted exclusively on the Boys Wear Pants, Men Wear Trousers blog.

Permalink

DIGG THIS | del.icio.us


Other Posts in the Category: Film, Television and Book Reviews


Conjunction Video: Napoleon Nerf Herder

by Joshua Minton





This little masterpiece was edited together by my friend Ed Mueller and is being hosted exclusively on the Boys Wear Pants, Men Wear Trousers blog.

Permalink

DIGG THIS | del.icio.us


Other Posts in the Category: Film, Television and Book Reviews


July 15, 2006

Bill Maher Interviews Stephen King in the Amazon Fish Bowl

by Joshua Minton


Permalink

DIGG THIS | del.icio.us


Other Posts in the Category:


This Type of Freedom by Joshua Minton

by Joshua Minton


I just finished watching the documentary Why We Fight by Eugene Jarecki, which focuses on the relationship of the Military-Industrial Complex that Eisenhower warned the US about in his farewell speech as President of the United States. The experts in the movie contend that this corporate system of influence includes four primary entities:
  1. The Military

  2. The corporations who supply the military with hardware (Boeing, Raytheon, and of course--Halliburton among others)

  3. Congress

  4. The Washington Think Tanks like The Project for a New American Century

Let's consider the parting words of Eisenhower, shall we:





Now, the documentary contends that Congress, the military, and the corporations which provide the hardware for war are each junkies caught up in love with a drug they cannot quit, whereas the Think Tanks are the very danger which Eisenhower was warning us against in his farewell speech--groups of individuals making policy who are not elected nor are they affected by the feelings, thoughts, and beliefs of the citizenry. We, the People, have allowed a golem to come into being which is driving the world right into the toilet while the already wealthy become even more wealthy at the expense of our future and our individual freedom.

At one point, one of the Iraqi citizens who gets interviewed (and claims to have had family members killed from one of the first "smart" missiles missing its target and falling on their house) says, "America will not last long because it is not acting the way a great nation acts."

We are a war-society, despite all belief to the contrary. I wouldn't say that our culture is as outright blood thirsty as the ancient Spartans but we're not far off either. America has averaged an armed conflict with other nations something like every twelve years or so since our country was born. But it has only been since World War II when the machinery of war became the most profitable industry on the face of the earth.

The movie claims that the United States spends more on defense (22% of our gross expenses) than all other countries combined. Now, let's be honest; when we say we're spending money on Defense, it's not like we're building bomb shelters and arming and training young men 14 and older to handle firearms in case some blood thirsty enemy invades their community. No, when we say "defense," what we mean is the machinery to make war on other nations and the payoff after we've made war is in the access to their resources and the opportunity to sell them a bunch of plastic toys and nutritionless food that they really don't need in the first place and which will eventually rot their souls and bodies the way we've allowed ours to become rotten here in America.

Sorry to be so cynical but isn't that what it all comes down to? Isn't that the American dream today? Isn't that what the success of our billionaires is built on? Is this how a great nation acts when it claims to be the steward of all that is righteous and right about the world and our species?

Does freedom truly come with a blood red price tag that involves shooting another man in the head who doesn't have the same accent or bloodline we do?

I have seen glimpses of absolute freedom in my life and each time they were accompanied by death--the death of my ego, the absence of the observer, and each time a warm and pure energy flowed into the moment and filled every snapping nerve with a calm and roaring creative energy which is the source of all life and all things good in the world. I have had moments of death in life that were filled with whatever is beyond that razor metaphor that so many kill each other over and I did not have to pick up a weapon and splatter brains all over the desert sand to allow that type of absolute freedom to wash over my mortal soul (if only for a second).

But this type of freedom is worthless to the man in the suit in the corporate boardroom or the shadowy halls of Congress or the man in the dress blues in the first six rows during a Presidential address to the nation; nor is it worth a thing to the eggheads in the think tanks who work hard to draw lines of death and division on the maps of the world which we must all then walk around like invisible mine fields hanging in the air.

This type of freedom is absolutely free except for the payment of death in the moment.

This type of freedom cannot be killed for but it must be died for. Go ask Jesus. Go ask Buddha. Go ask Hallaj. Go ask Giordano Bruno. Go ask the Dali Lama.

This type of freedom is life itself in the sparking moment and moves the soul through instinct like a deep water fish through coral.

This type of freedom cannot be found in books, ancient relics, or arcane rituals. It cannot be called from the sky, divined from the air, or reeled from the sea of sorrow we know as the collective mind of humanity. It cannot be pulled into time and space because its presence dictates their absence.

This type of freedom is the beginning of intelligence and no man who ever claims to be the leader of nations should be without it.

This type of the freedom is the beginning of healing and the nexus of understanding and when the smallest seed of this type of freedom is present in the heart of the individual, the universe is set right and saved and so it is that the world becomes saved in tandem.

This type of freedom is the only thing that matters in this life and in this death and if we are not struggling to bring it into existence in the waking moment, then we are each living the lie of devils whispering in our ears and dangling golden trinkets before our eyes. This type of freedom can only be won inside each of our minds.

The final battle is always fought with ideas and emotions; the stakes are always for our immortal souls and the bet is always all-in.

LINKS:


Buy Why We Fight Here and Support the Boys Wear Pants, Men Wear Trousers Blog



TAGS:
, , , ,


Permalink

DIGG THIS | del.icio.us


Other Posts in the Category: Film, Television and Book Reviews, Business, Religion/Spirituality


July 14, 2006

Krishnamurti on Learning to Live, Learning to Die

by Joshua Minton

I have two masters: Joseph Campbell and Krishnamurti and both of them bleed into everything I do. Watch this short video clip to see why Krishnamurti became the greatest teacher of personal enlightenment in modern times.


Permalink

DIGG THIS | del.icio.us


Other Posts in the Category: Religion/Spirituality


July 12, 2006

Why I Can't Play RPGs Anymore

by Joshua Minton

I tried. I was very excited to pick up Oblivion: Elder Scrolls IV for the XBOX 360. The graphics were amazing, the storyline seemed pretty interesting, and the action fighting was even digestible for a Role Playin Game. But I couldn't stand the open-endedness of wandering around. This is the same thing that turned me off to the Grand Theft Auto games. Give me some structure, for Pete's sake. Give me clear missions that build on one another to the climax of the game. Maybe this was there in Oblivion but I didn't see it.

I traded it in today, along with Perfect Dark Zero, for the new First Person Shooter Prey which I played on the downloadable demo. This game seems sweet as hell, the storyline being a Cherokee mechanic stuck on the reservation is abducted by aliens and has to fight his way off the ship using his spirit-walking ability to fight back from the realm of the dead. It seems to be a great combination of mythology, American Indian ritual and lore, and sci-fi alien abduction--very X-filish which is always right up my alley. Plus, the graphics are unbelievable and the soundtrack is top notch. I can't wait to sink into this game.

Also, the novel is coming along steadily. The hardest part about writing a novel versus a short story is really getting inside the character. Whereas, with a short story, you really are getting inside the conflict of the scene. It's just a very different kind of writing even though its fiction.

Check out the Prey trailer below:



Permalink

DIGG THIS | del.icio.us


Other Posts in the Category:


July 10, 2006

Has George W. Bush Gone from a Speaking Dynamo to a Man with Marbles in His Mouth?

by Joshua Minton



I don't agree with the contention of this video that GW has "Presenile Dementia" but I do agree that there is a marked difference. I would think, if anything, it's deliberate and that the American people have been sold a disarming caricature that is easy to superficially attack and dismiss as ignorant and bumbling. Make no mistake about it, our President is a smart, witty, and decisive man and you would doubt that at your own peril. But I also believe that it takes a certain personality to get elected and quite another to effectively lead a nation. The task for PR people is put together a double-edged candidate who is buffoon enough to be electable and subtly ruthless enough to get the job done. Obviously, the man was elected twice and history will have to be the judge of the latter.

Either way, the difference in speaking styles shown in this video is pronouned.

Permalink

DIGG THIS | del.icio.us


Other Posts in the Category: Politics & Sociology


Who Is the Most Interesting Character on Television?

by Joshua Minton

I have no frigging idea but I do have an opinion. I think that, in terms of sheer human conflict and drama, Walt Bannerman's character in the USA show The Dead Zone is pretty frigging good.

Look, here is a guy who loves his wife and his son but whose wife is still in love with her ex-fiancee Johnny Smith (who went into a coma and awoke five years later with amazing psychic abilities) and his son who is really Johnny's biological son but who has been raised by Walt as his own son. Top that off with the fact that Walt's the local sherriff and has to work with Johnny on tons of cases. His wife is in love with two men at once and his son calls two men father and he considers the man of their affections a personal friend who is indespensible to the success of his career.

Plus, he's a nice guy and maintains that disposition throughout the show's story arcs.

I don't know, it may seem an odd pick but I just think that given the amount of sheer conflict staring down the barrell at this character, he comes through amazingly well and could be the only true hero on the entire show.

Who is yours?

LINKS:
The Dead Zone TV Show

TAGS:
, ,

Permalink

DIGG THIS | del.icio.us


Other Posts in the Category: Film, Television and Book Reviews


July 9, 2006

Ducking Soldiers Funerals and Selling Out the American Economy: Just Another Day in Republican Washington?

by Joshua Minton


Here are two little outrages I came across in my weekly web scouring:

Exhibit A: According to the military magazine Stars and Stripes, George W. Bush has not attended one soldier's funeral who has died in Iraq.
When Stars and Stripes nabbed an exclusive interview with President Bush on July 4 — aboard Air Force One — it devoted most of the questions to ones submitted by service members.

One, put to the commander-in-chief by the newspaper's Jeff Schogol: Has he attended even one funeral for a fallen soldier from Iraq? No, he replied. “Because which funeral do you go to? In my judgment, I think if I go to one I should go to all. How do you honor one person but not another?” he said.
Now, I don't know about you but I would think that going to at least one funeral would be adviseable by his PR staff, even if it's on Veteran's Day or the anniversary of the seizing of Baghdad, something. Personally, I think it's a copout answer to say if you had to go to one, you'd have to go to all and how do you choose. I mean, that's the kind of bullshit answer you give when someone asks you which of your kids you love the best, not when it comes to honoring the ultimate sacrifice of young men and women who have given themselves over to the machinery of the state in an effort that should already be over and done with (in my opinion).

Exhibit B: According to the Counterpunch Newsletter:
[Dick] Cheney has dumped another (estimated) $10 to $25 million in a European bond fund which tells us that he is counting on a steadily weakening dollar.
Imagine a world where the Vice President of the United States invests his money in foreign currency, betting on the further collapse of his own economy...well, don't knock yourself out straining your imagination because you can read it in the VPs financial disclosure statement. This little tidbit has left me too depressed to even swear him down.

God, if you're listening, please send us a worthy Third Party candidate to run in 2008. He (or she--but probably he) doesn't have to be pretty but they should definitely be smart. And they don't have to be a philosophy professor but please let them live by a set of admirable ethics. And please don't let them be brought to us by anything with an "NC" after it. We don't want anymore corporate sponsored spineless, dickless, shitless zombies who nod with snot bubbles in their noses as the military industrialists dictate world policy in a smokey room outskirted by ten dollar whores, Britney Spears music, and a constant loop of the Zapruder film running in case any world leaders get any big ideas about "truth, justice, and all that other stuff."

LINKS:
Exhibit A
Exhibit B
Photo by itchycrabs

TAGS:
,, ,

Permalink

DIGG THIS | del.icio.us


Other Posts in the Category: Politics & Sociology


The New Paradigm of Music Publishing

by Joshua Minton

Miranda Sound: Sweaty CablesThe only thing more depressing to me than the current state of politics is the current state of music. Don't get me wrong--there are still plenty of great bands (like my boys Miranda Sound, an amazing band from Columbus that you've unfortunately never heard of but should have).

According to this week's Entertainment Weekly:
In the past year, Sony/BMG (Beyonce's label), Universal, and Warner music groups have agreed to pay the state of New York a combined total of $27 million. The violation: bribing radio programmers with cash and gifts like laptops, digital cameras, and Yankees tickets in exchange for playing their artists--a practice known as "payola."
I just cringe when I think about how far the music industry has fallen in the past 40 years.

We are one year away from the 40th anniversary of the Summer of Love and three years away from the 40th anniversary of Woodstock. There was a time in America when raw musical talent and vision was what led the way in terms of audience support, when Jimi Hendrix slithered around on stage and built fortresses of sound with fender chops still unmatched to this day.

Compare this to Britney Spears. When Hendrix got interviewed about his art, you could feel the angels speaking through him. When Spears is interviewed, everyone comes away dumber and with a little less soul intact.

And now the music industry has dug their heels so far into the muck that they have begun punishing their fans by taking them to court and demanding totalitarian control over publishing formats which limit the mobility of the artists they are supposedly trying to promote.

Bob Marley once said that music was a wave--if that's true then music publishers have spent decades trying to build a Tusnami simulation machine which has fooled audiences up to a point. The problem is that now the world is filled with useless crap music and no one really gives a shit anymore.

But the music is still a wave and machines have a way of breaking down--it's called entropy and it's one of those unavoidable bitches of nature that all men in sunglasses and $5,000 suits eventually succumb to.

Just go on MySpace and make a page, filling out your musical preferences. You will become inundtated with requests from bands and musicians, both local and far away, who are begging you to listen to their stuff, add them, support them, and come to promote them. And that's they way art should be--the labor should be of love and the audience's attention should be begged for, pleaded for, appreciated beyond words.

There is a new day dawning, when no one will be buying CDs anymore and when artists will begin putting out singles again instead of long-play albums (at least until they are very established). A Darwinian net is falling upon the music-publishing industry as well as the world of openly exchanged ideas.

Only the best artists and thinkers win which means we all will and in an age where Britney Spears album sales have declined steadily with each album she puts out (despite the media cramming every stupid event of her life down our throats); we are in an artistic freefall where the public spirit is literally starving for substance.

Bob Marley also said (sang actually in the song Rat Race), "...in the abundance of water, the fool is thirsty." There are dozens and dozens of no name musicians out there right now who are producing some of the most amazing art, work that can heal our national and individual spirits, connecting us back to the source of all being which is deeply mysterious and highly restorative.

The only problem is that you have to turn off the TV and switch off the radio to find them.

LINKS:
Listen to Miranda Sound

TAGS:
, , , ,

Permalink

DIGG THIS | del.icio.us


Other Posts in the Category:


July 6, 2006

What it Means to Smell Like a Black Man

by Joshua Minton

I shaved my head last week,
bald, chrome
dome and found some
hair food made with olive oil,
lanolin, and some other shit.

When I put it on, the smell took me
back to when I was nine years old
and my best friend Marquise Wilder--
it smelled like him, like his
brothers Martez, Antoine and I can't remember
the others names. His mother's
name was Cookie.

I walked black streets back then,
unafraid, the same streets
I now drive in Decatur, Illinois
going 45 in a 30, head hunched down,
praying to God I don't hit a stoplight.

Back then the world was the same
but I was different. I was a minority
in a world of a minor majority
and Marquise once stepped up for me
in front of the whole school
when an asshole named Keon threw
a ball at me so hard in a kickball
game that it knocked my feet out
from under me and I hit the ground
hard as the broken pride of handing
over foodstamps with a line of long
white people behind you.

Marquise knew that kind of hard.

And I'd go to stay with him
on the south side, a piece of bird shit
in the night, an easy target
I was short, skinny, blonde, and white.

One time I took a plastic Thundercats
play tent to Marquise's house.
That night was the first time
I was ever called Honky,
Whitey, Cracker,
White Shrimp, White Devil
I'm sure there were more
but one was enough.

I won't pretend that a few mean names
equals centuries of enslavement,
rape, murder, or whatever else
is belng sold as the sins of
the white man today.
But I'll tell you this:
No nine year old kid deserves
that kind of pain.

So when I say "sup"
to the black dude at Target
with his diamond earrings
and his $200 sneakers
and he snubs me, scowls
at me like I raped his mother
and his sister and sent him
on a raft down the mighty Mississip;
I want to smack his face
and say, "Look, you asshole--
my hair smells the same as yours."

Permalink

DIGG THIS | del.icio.us


Other Posts in the Category: Joshua Minton's Poetry


July 4, 2006

Freedom is Calling: Happy 230th Birthday America

by Joshua Minton

Last night, I wished America a happy 230th birthday from the 26th floor of a high rise office building in downtown Columbus as fireworks exploded in areas all around the 15 mile pie wedge view of the city I had.

Firecrackers were around 200 years before Christ was born when the Chinese roasted bamboo to make loud pops that scared little children and then made them laugh as their parents hugged them tight to let them know they were okay, that it was just for fun.

But in America, fireworks on the 4th of July are a sacred tradition, one in which we preen our feathers, pat each other on the back, and congratulate ourselves for bringing the concepts of freedom and democracy to the world even though they've been around since before Socrates took up doing shots of hemloch.

But I like to keep it real on the 4th, which is why my favorite American Founding Father is Patrick Henry--a man who kept it so real, he never left his home state of Virginia to run for the pussy office of Commander-in-Chief. Here was a man who was so adamantly opposed to replacing the Articles of Confederation with the Constitution that he threatened to become a revolutionary against the very government he had very nearly died to help establish. Patrick Henry knew the Civil War was coming with the federalizing of the nation under a strong central government--only a fool wouldn't have.

So, I believe that is important to take stock of one's life on their birthday and that a nation should constantly be in a state of self-examination. And here's the deal with America--we are a great nation peopled by great individuals full of the spirit of kindness and community. But we are also a nation bridled by corporate greed, a greed which currently controls the media and therefore the hegemonic process of cultural identity. Things are very plastic here in America right now. Our entire reality is manufactured by the 24 hour news channels and the color chart which tells us how safe to feel and which the government uses to shock us into inaction and mind-numbing complacency.

Racism, religious intolerance and homophobia are an unfortunate reality which affects many in our country, putting up barriers and blowing up bridges of opportunity. But for every bridge that is blown up, a new mountain rises which demands the will and skill of the individual to climb it and move beyond to the green pastures in the valley of peace that Martin Luther King Jr. spoke about almost 40 years ago as he stood before the Washington monument and urged the spirit of our nation, and the spirit of mankind, on to a new reality of world peace.

Peace is the absence of war but world peace has nothing to do with either. World peace is a marriage of mankind to one another, like land continents slamming together out of sheer mortality, human beings must learn to get along with one another in a system of scarce resources or learn to sing hymns silently as our civilization, indeed our species, sinks into the evolutionary abyss which has engulfed millions of biological entities before us. World Peace will be the most challenging evolutionary obstacle human beings have ever been stupid or brave enough to attempt and the first full-hearted step of the journey will be the only one needed for true freedom is not a movement, it's a spark; it's a light switch being thrown on forever illuminating what was cast in absolute darkness before.

Birthdays are also a time to look to the future, a time to dream of what can be. Many see a future of smarter bombs, oil pipelines that flow to one destination, and billions of human beings subjugated under the mental slavery of a common ideological fix--a metaphor for the masses which will placate and inundate the creative and revolutionary spirit which brought human beings down from the trees onto the hot African plains where we went from foraging to farming to murdering our own and stealing their stock, then it calling it right by framing governments around the action. There hasn't been a government in history that hasn't lied to, stolen from, and murdered its own people by drawing lines, pointing fingers, and calling out "monster." The only thing that changes is where the lines get drawn and this is what we call History.

But I believe there can be a day when all lines get erased. I believe this because I'm both a dreamer and a fool, the latter of which the world is too full of and the former far too bereft.

Birthdays should be for looking into the heart of the moment, making the space between seconds freeze so that reality can be viewed as it truly is--without bounds, without ego, and without reference. It has been said that time is a river and in that river flows the deep and collective sorrow of the human race. We are each born. We each die. And no one knows what the fuck happens before or after these two events; all sorrow springs from this mystery as does all inspiration. Great fear and great faith are the primary drivers of the human spirit and we must each make a choice, every second of our lives, when we are engaging in action and in relationship with one another, which of these forces we allow to drive us.

Happy birthday, America. You've made it so much longer than history predicted and you have so much further to go before you reach the destination of your faith and your potential.

May God bless the human being and may we have mercy on each other.

LINKS:
Patrick Henry was the Greatest American

TAGS:
, , , , , ,

Permalink

DIGG THIS | del.icio.us


Other Posts in the Category: Politics & Sociology, Religion/Spirituality


July 1, 2006

Boys Wear Pants On Shedding Skin

by Joshua Minton

I don't believe in stagnation, either physical or mental. Well, let me rephrase that--stagnation is out there but I don't allow it to happen to me. I constantly challenge myself mentally because the brain is no different than any other muscle; if you train it the same way all the time, it will only perform one function and won't adapt to the many situations that circumstance and opportunity throws at it.

The mind that limits itself to politics, science, or a particular flavor of metaphoric is stagnated. I haven't talked about politics on this blog in weeks because what more is their to say that other people who know more than me about it have already said? You know how I feel. You know that I will always come down on the side of the individual. I am happy to have just learned that Bill Pierce will be running as a Libertarian on the Ohio Gubernatorial ballot this November. He's got my vote and everyone else I can convince to vote for him as well.

But a life centered around politics is no life at all.

And the church? Give me a break. Talk about a glass ceiling. Unless you tell me that God can be found within me and that I don't need your books, your quaint superstitious rituals, or your moral guidance in the first place; I wouldn't let you get past "Hello." And if you did tell me those things, why would I even bother listening to you in the first place. In my mind, to be a member of a church is the yielding of a mind in stagnation.

And I don't believe in garnishing a look either. I am constantly switching up my appearance--shaving my head, growing my hair long, growing a beard, shaving it off, working out, slimming down, toning up, getting cut, getting fat, growing a full beard, dying my hair and wearing ties and crisp oxford button ups on casual days.

Tell me to dress a certain way and I'm likely to show up naked.

If you constantly pivot your frame of reference, and I don't mean change your core values because those by nature cannot change; but rather just change the way you look at things and, indeed, the way you look--you will be stepping into the river of the moment and that is where hyper life is lived by those with the finger on the side of their nose winking.

I'm just a newborn friend for the world.

Permalink

DIGG THIS | del.icio.us


Other Posts in the Category: Personal