Musing

Real Men of Balls or My Yearly Salute to Men Like Me Every year, I like to pull everyone's attention away from the watermelon and fireworks and back to the reason for the season. We come together on this hot and humid day in the middle of the summer to celebrate one of the few holidays dedicated to the men with real coconuts who signed the document that declared the independence of our country. This took more cajones that actually fighting the war did. If the war had been the hard part, we'd have a day to mark the end of it. No, we have a day to remember what it took to sign that piece of paper and send it back across the water. People, you gotta remember - at that time, what they said in that document was downright harsh. It was a verbal bitch-slapping of their (former) king, who was already pissed over the whole Lexington and Concord thing. I wish we still did cool shit like that. Nowadays, war is rarely waged for a concept so righteous. We ignore the problems in our ...

Live 8 Gets a Finger, Not a Fist or I Hate Whiney, Poor People Live 8 - that strange concoction of celebrities and musical stars who try to sound educated about something besides their own careers - pisses me off. Dave Matthews was on camera trying to convince people that rich countries have the means to eliminate AIDS (meaning medically). Ashley Judd was running around the streets of Madagascar, looking into the tents of the women who sell their bodies for money. And the idiocy just continued. No, we do not have the means to eliminate AIDS. Although it would help both the poverty situation and the AIDS situation if the African men didn't spend every penny they earned on sex in the street. You want me to support an effort to give horny men more sex? And then spread more AIDS that they will require even more money to wipe out? No. Not gonna happen. None of this "We don't want money, only support" bullshit either. Support means money. We're America - we...