Lyndon and the Ladybirds Speak Clearly

Power Metal

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Wed, 04 Nov 2009 01:40:00 +0000

If you've been reading the blog for a while, you know that Pantera is one of my favorite bands of all time. Dimebag Darrell is my favorite guitar player and may his soul rest in peace.

If you're a fan of Pantera than you know their first album was Cowboys from Hell, right? Wrong! You're fucking wrong! Get it straight!

They actually had a string of albums in the 80's. The first two or three were slick, almost hair-metal affairs. Wikipedia calls them "glam". I don't. I hear a definite Iron Maiden/Judas Priest influence.

Granted, they hadn't gotten into the groove they became known for. Some of it is crap(original lead singer, Terry Glaze's, voice is awful) but some of the stuff is actually pretty good.

Anyway, I encourage you to look up their interesting history. Here's a track from the first album with Phil Anselmo which is called Power Metal. Some of the songs are lame, but Dimebag Tears.It.Up on a few tracks.

This is most evident on this track called Over and Out.

Check it out. Be warned though. Phil's voice is a bit 80's. His trademark growl is barely developed. Arguably it wasn't really developed on CFH, either.

Enjoy! Let me know what you think.

Type rest of the post here

Cake Blog

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 12:34:00 +0000

My lovely wife has written a blog about our wedding cake and my birthday cake. Why should you care? Because she made it from freaking scratch! That's why. She's a tremendous cook/baker and reading it made me want more, more, more!

Anyway. Check out the Ladybird's blog, here.

The Thesis

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Thu, 22 Oct 2009 12:07:00 +0000

Since I've been in school, most of my time has been occupied in two ways: reading and writing. While reading takes the lion's share of the time, writing about what I've read and creating a cohesive, academic and (hopefully) interesting paper is the ultimate goal.

I'm going to outline a few tips to writing a better paper. Some of these I've figured out along the way. Others I've learned from my lovely wife, The Ladybird, and her English literature / law background.

In order to graduate from the Lyndon and the Ladybirds Institute for Higher Learnin' (I donated a lot of money) I'll have to write a thesis paper on a topic of my choosing, and incorporate what I've learned over the past two years. This 59-100 page behemoth requires months of research and draft after draft until it resembles something that I'd be proud to turn in in exchange for a degree.

However, before I start the writing and research part, I have to have my thesis.

What is a thesis? Essentially, it's what the hell you're gonna write about.

The more specific the better.

Writing about ancient Egypt is way too broad; you have to narrow it down. One of my professors thinks that, in order for a thesis to be effective, you have to stretch until it makes you uncomfortable. It has to make you squirm and think, “can I really do this?”

For example, instead of ancient Egypt, your topic could be “the politics of ancient Egypt.” Or, since that's still fairly broad, “ The politics of ancient Egypt and their impact on its women.” If you were supremely interested in the topic, you could distill it down further.

Such a thesis would definitely make me uncomfortable. This is a good thing. A little sweat always help propel you and your best efforts rapidly toward the deadline.

Mechanics

Once you have your thesis (or a rough approximation thereof) it's time to do your research. Since this isn't a post on research, we'll skip this part. However, if you're interested in how to do effective academic research here's a good site. I'll just say this. 3 x 5 index cards are your best friend. They allow for a visual representation of how your paper can be laid out.

The First Draft

I believe the first draft is punishment for going to school. For me it's always excruciating because, let's face it, a good first draft should suck. If you're pleased with your first draft you're either a genius, or you think much too highly of your abilities.

I almost always hand write my first draft. I prefer the yellow legal notepads. It removes the intimidation of a blank screen and allows me to focus on what it is I want to say. It also lends itself better to the kind of stream-of-consciousness writing that helps to focus and hone amorphous ideas. Don't worry about spelling or grammar at this point. Just get your ideas down on paper.

Write your thesis at the top of the first page and refer to it often – It doesn't have to be perfect. It doesn't have to be in the exact wording you'll use in the paper, it just has to be there.

Don't be afraid to start in the middle – I used to try and start my drafts by getting that killer intro. I read the New Yorker frequently, and I love how they always have an interesting intro that pulls the reader in. Don't try and do this. Start where you have the most information about your topic. That's inevitably going to be the meat of the paper. The intro will comes later as you pull from what you know about the topic.

Write it and put it away – So what if you don't reach your requisite 10 pages? Write as much as you can and put it away for a day. Go do something else. It'll give your brain a rest and give you time to ruminate on what you've just written.

The Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth Drafts....

Type it out – After I come back from a self-imposed waiting period, I type my handwritten paper word for word, into a document; word for word, omitting nothing nor adding nothing. The process allows you to hammer out your structure and your argument.

This is your second draft. This will really give you a feeling as to what you like and what you don't like about your paper. Again, type your thesis (In this paper I will explore the politics of ancient Egypt in relation to the women of the period) and place it in bold, at the top of your first page.

Add to it – Find the holes in logic, find the jumps and smooth them out. Add research. Stuff it full of information that pertains to the thesis. You'll probably purge a lot of it, but it's good to have in the initial formulation of the paper.

Continually refer to your thesis – Each sentence should in someway justify or be relative to your thesis. If it doesn't or it isn't, cut it out. It's not a book report. It must have dense analysis. (thanks, Ladybird!)

When I think about this concept, it reminds me of two things: Matt Foley and country music.

Remember Chris Farley's character, motivational speaker Matt Foley, from SNL back in the day? He lived in a VAN DOWN BY THE RIVER! Think of that as the thesis of the sketch. He continually referred to it and referenced it. There was nothing superfluous to his message. His goal was to keep kids from smoking doobies and as a result having to live in a VAN DOWN BY THE RIVER!

Similar to Chris Farley's motivational speaker, nearly any country song has a thesis and sticks to it.
Here's the number one song for the week ending October 10. It's Toby Keith's American Ride. I have picked this song at random, I've never heard it. From the looks of these lyrics, I don't think I want to. They're unspeakably awful. Regardless, they fit with what I'm trying to explain.

P.S. I pulled these straight from here. I've left the spelling errors as is.

Winter gettin colder, summer gettin warmer.
Tidal wave comin cross the Mexican border.
Why buy a gallon, its cheaper by the barrel.
Just dont be busted singin Christmas carols.

Thats us, Thats right
Gotta love this American ride.
Both ends of the ozone burnin.
Funny how the world keeps turnin.
Look ma, no hands.
I love this American ride.
Gotta love this American ride.

Momma gets her rocks off watchin Desperate Housewives.
Daddy works his can off payin for the good life.
Kids on the YouTube learnin how to be cool.
Livin in a cruel world, pays to be a mean girl.

Thats us, Thats right
Gotta love this American ride.
Both ends of the ozone burnin.
Funny how the world keeps turnin.
Look ma, no hands.
I love this American ride.
Gotta love this American ride.

Poor little infamous America's town.
She gained five pounds and lost her crown.
Quick fix plastic surgical antidote.
Got herself a record, cant even sing a note.

Plasma gettin bigger, Jesus gettin smaller.
Spill a cup of coffee, make a million dollars.
Customs caught a thug with an aerosol can.
If th shoe don't fit, the fit's gonna hit the shan.

Thats us, Thats right
Gotta love this American ride.
Both ends of the ozone burnin.
Funny how the world keeps turnin.
Hot dog, Hot hands.
I love this American ride.
Gotta love this American ride.
Oh yeah,
na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na........... nanananananana

The thesis is “I love this American ride. Gotta love this American ride.” The rest of the song continually refers back to the fact that Toby Keith loves the American ride. There's nothing superfluous in this song. It's a discourse on the current American way of life. However, he likes it. Hot dog, hot hands? I don't know. The guy is a total dickbag.

Print It Out

Waste paper! Waste ink! Print that sucker out after a couple of revisions on the computer. It serves two purposes. The first is that a hard copy will ALWAYS help you find more errors than you would otherwise find by editing on the computer. Secondly, you can scribble in the margins and make notes that will help you through the process.

Needless to say, keep EVERY draft until the paper is turned in.
On a related note, save every draft under a different document name. I save mine like this
1-1 Ancient Egypt Paper.doc

The first “1” is the number of the assignment (paper 1). The second is the draft. I've written papers that go up to 1-12. You gotta edit, baby. This leads to my next point...

Be Brutal

Don't think that your words are permanent and that changing even one sentence will ruin your perfect masterpiece. Face it. It probably sucks at this point. Edit the crap out of it. Any jumps in logic, any bad arguments, any sentences that don't make sense or that make baby Jesus cry? Cut them! Slice and dice.

Let your spouse be brutal - This is the most painful. I've finished 5 or 6 drafts and handed them over to the Ladybird to edit. When she gets done the paper looks like it was marked up by a gang of preschoolers armed with red Bics. Only more helpful. It kills the ego a bit, but in the end it works.

Don't Turn it in Early

Always work on it until the last possible second. You get no points for turning papers in early. Take advantage of the time you have been given and use it. This will only help your paper.

Steal, but don't Plagiarize.

Remember, there are no original ideas. No, seriously. Anything you can think of has been thought of and been written about in a much more elegant fashion. You're not special.

Finally, here's a bonus piece of advice: If you're having trouble formulating your thesis, meet with your professor with the ideas or drafts you have and they'll guide a thesis right to your brain. They can help you hammer out a good thesis, and you can save those precious brain cells for blogging or figuring out the post-graduation monthly payments of your massive student loans.

Biggest Douche in the World REEEEMIIIIXXXXX

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Sat, 10 Oct 2009 12:22:00 +0000

In honor of the mediocrity that is U2, and the fact that their only Florida stop was in my fair city of Tampa, here's a link to a blog post I wrote in January of 2008 regarding Bono's manager and his views toward pirated music. It's semi-related and tangential, but entertaining nonetheless.

Enjoy!
http://lyndonandtheladybirds.blogspot.com/2008/01/biggest-douche-in-world.html

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Wed, 30 Sep 2009 18:29:00 +0000

I hate neglecting the old blog. Unfortunately, school comes first. I have to tell myself 'No! bad doggy' when I get the urge to put down the books and come over to Ol' Grey (my awesome Macbook Pro) to virtually interact with the world via the internet.

Since I only have a few minutes, I'll do an abbreviated rundown of the topics I should have blogged about.

Celebrities

Michael Jackson - Sad, but halfway expected.
Patrick Swayze - Don't care.
Don Hewitt - Sad, 60 Minutes is a great show.
John Hughes - Meh. Breakfast Club was merely ok.
Walter Cronkite - Sad. Smart guy, tough journalist.
Steve McNair - Don't cheat on your wife and you wouldn't have been murdered.
Billy Mays - Meh.
Farrah Fawcett - Don't have much of a connection to her, but she seemed like a good person and had an unfortunate disease.
Bea Arthur - Sad. She was funny.
Dan Seals - SAD! I love England Dan and John Ford Coley.

News

Republicans are continually pissing me off. Hey Republicans: Just because you hate yourself doesn't mean you should take it out on people who need help.

The Supreme Court has taken up a Second Amendment case. As if "those" people need another reason to be angry. (Gun nuts, that is.)

I found a clear suitcase full of dry dog food outside of the office today. Some homeless man probably stashed it there so he wouldn't have to lug it around; he most likely has a dog that will go hungry now.

It's probably a pit bull though. So, I'm glad I tossed it. Although a hungry, homeless pit bull is worse for the community than a happy, homeless pit bull. Whatevs.

I've gained ten pounds in the past two months. I think it's muscle though, so it's cool. My pants fit fine and my abs are hardening like my arteries used to. In the immortal words of Carl Spackler from Caddyshack, "I've got that going for me."

Gossip

I totally heard you were gay. It's cool. I'm not homophobic or nothin'.

I totally heard you vommed all over yourself at Billy's party. Not cool.

I totally stole your suitcase of dog food.

It's Fun to be a Religious Studies Major

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Sat, 12 Sep 2009 21:09:00 +0000

Here's what Epiphanius (an early Christian scholar) wrote about Gnostic cults. I don't think it's true, but man...crazy stuff.

Here's what Epiphanius (an early Christian scholar) wrote about Gnostic cults:

Retweeting Your Life

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Wed, 02 Sep 2009 17:57:00 +0000

Since it seems like my life is consumed with reading every book ever written, I've had less time to write:( Yes, I used the sad face. Please don't lol.

However, I have found time to read other blogs. This one, from Art of Manliness struck me because it highlights a problem many of people my age (mid-to-late-twenties) have: They want it all with none of the work.

I'm not convinced that our generation is doomed. Each generation steps up when they need to. Our parents aren't going to be around forever. Someone's got to take over once the Boomers retire en masse.

The old cliche still holds true. There really is no substitution for hard work. Unless you're applying for the same job I am. In that case, you deserve a break. May I suggest Bennigan's? That's where dreams go to get deep-fried in herpes and then die.

Type rest of the post here

D00d....

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Wed, 26 Aug 2009 17:49:00 +0000

Really? OMG?

On one hand I give him props for reaching out to the Just-Turned-21-And-Puked-On-A-Cop’s-Shoes segment of society. However, those kids don’t have money. Go after the big guns, Andy! May as well give John “For the People” Morgan a run for his money.

“Text Me”? Again, really?
D00d. I totally got f@cked up. Bail me out, broheim. My lacrosse schlrship is ontheline.

Who hires tele-evangelawyers anyway?

p.s. Anyone who hires an attorney based on the fact that he played for the Bucs deserves to stay hurt.

Sorry for the desultory remarks. I’m in a fog today.

Type rest of the post here

Here's What Rush Said Today...

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Thu, 13 Aug 2009 21:07:00 +0000

While playing Angry White Man Roulette on the radio, I caught Rush Limbaugh bloviating and prevaricating (see previous post) about health care and militias. I'm paraphrasing, but it was funny shit. You'll probably see it on Mediamatters.org.

On health care he spittled into the microphone that the proposed health care bill will kill old people by allowing the government to deny granny coverage if she's costing too much.

The best was when he called the Southern Poverty Law Center (which provides legal counsel to victims of hate crimes as well as exposes the far-right) a bunch of "liberal wackos." They had the audacity to suggest that the rise in the militia movement was untrue, first of all. Secondly, he asked the audience, what's wrong with a bunch of guys in the woods in fatigues with their guns? The ignorance was spectacular.

Oh yeah, one more thing. He jumped into how the town hall meetings aren't being disrupted because of a single group, but a large group of free-thinking individuals that love freedom have rallied around a common cause. In contrast, liberals and socialists need a leader to rally behind )i.e. Obama). The Republicans on the other hand, only want individualism and freedom.

Which is true, they look up to no man. They're all John Galt. Except for the anointment of Reagan, Bush I and II, Rush Limbaugh, Glenn Beck, Mark Levin, Ayn Rand, Ann Coulter, G. Gordon Liddy, Richard Nixon, Newt Gingrich, Jerry Falwell, Pat Robertson, The Heritage Foundation, Michael Savage, Chuck Norris, Ted Nugent, Michele Malkin, Bill O'Reilly, Barry Goldwater, Alan Keyes, Sarah Palin, Sean Hannity, Clarence Thomas, Strom Thurmond, Joseph McCarthy, Dick Cheney, Oliver North, Mike Huckabee, Rudy Giuliani, J.C. Watts, John McCain, William F. Buckley, et. al.

Yeah, we liberals are a bunch of sheep. Bah.

Words, Words, Words

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Wed, 12 Aug 2009 21:08:00 +0000

I love words. I love learning the meaning of words. The english language is so expansive and...what’s the word? Anyway, I thought I’d put together a list of a few of my favorite words. I’ll define them and then use them in a sentence. Pretty soon you’ll be using words like “desultory” or “hebetude” to describe your life. I hope you don’t, actually...

One more thing: so I’m not plagiarizing any dictionary, I’ll paraphrase the definitions.

pre⋅var⋅i⋅cate [pri-var-i-keyt], verb
To lie or put forth an untrue statement.

“Your mom sure knows how to prevaricate. That woman makes me want to prevaricate all the time, with an ax handle.”

pul⋅chri⋅tu⋅di⋅nous [puhl-kri-tood-n-uhs, -tyood-], adj.
Beautiful; ravishing.

“The way that pulchritudinous duck walked across the street, completely mellowed me out. I don’t think I’ll ever be the same. Seriously, dude. The duck was that pulchritudinous.”

quidnunc \KWID-nuhngk\, noun
One who must know the comings and goings; a gossip.

“Kiss my fucking ass, douchebag! Fucking quidnunc! I’ll beat your fucking head in with my bat.”

prestidigitation \pres-tuh-dij-uh-TAY-shuhn\, noun
Sleight of hand; legerdemain.

“Bill was right. The clown’s prestidigitation sure came in handy when he stole your pack of smokes while massaging your legs. Remember that Bill? You don’t? Fuck you then.”

tergiversation \tuhr-jiv-uhr-SAY-shuhn\, noun:
The act of being purposefully evasive or devious.

“The baseball attempted to tergiversate to avoid being struck by the bat. It didn’t succeed. Now the ball is lost.”

coruscate \KOR-uh-skayt\, verb:
To radiate brightly (literally or figuratively as in a talent or skill.)

“Broham. Seriously, did you see that chica coruscate all over the room while she was dancing to Lady GaGa? I was like, ‘whoa, slow down, baby.’ That chick’s totally going down on the God Rod later.”

Enjoy these words. Employ these words. Use them to impress your friends and make enemies.

Donothing

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Mon, 03 Aug 2009 20:37:00 +0000

The phone rang yesterday as I was rinsing off our dishes from lunch. I didn’t recognize the number so I picked up, answering somewhat hesitantly, “This is Lyndon.”

“Lyndon! Hey man, it’s Ron Donothing!”*

*Not real name (duh.)

I hadn’t spoken with Ron since 2007, when, at the top of his last wave (I’ll explain later) he was off to Georgia to attend art school. At the time, this was somewhat suspect because he a) had no money for school and b) had very little discernible artistic talent.

Oh yeah...and c) had a huge drinking problem. Like, huge. Destroyed his marriage, his friendships, etc. The usual after school special material.

Yesterday he said he’d put that all behind him.

“I’ve quit drinking, man. That shit was too much. I destroyed a lot of things I loved. I go to AA now.”

“That’s great.” I said as my bullshit detector went off. I’d heard that before.
He quickly added, “But I still smoke pot though. You know those guys in AA are on Paxil and Prozac. Pot gets me through.”

Sadly, I’d heard that before too.

Turns out he lives literally across the street from me. We live in a subdivision and Ron spends much of his time across the way at the apartment complex. Needless to say, I didn’t volunteer any of this information.

Remember, faithful readers, my blog that touched on losers a few weeks ago? I likened them to parasites that suck your good faith and will to succeed. Ron is one of these parasites. He means well, but he’ll never be able to get where he wants in life because the dream is more alluring than the actual work. Further, a drinking problem is debilitating when you live on this planet. When you have visions of pulling a Dean Moriarty/Hunter S. Thompson quest for drug-induced truth, it’s fucking impossible. He’s engaging in not-so-sophisticated sophistry in order to convince me (and himself and his mom) that he’s “ready to get clean, get a real job, go to school, etc.”

It ain’t gonna happen though. No how no way.

Why do I say this? Because I’ve seen it before. Not just from him, but from other loser friends. It’s what I call the Loser Wave.

Imagine a wave. Better yet, here’s an illustration.

Point A is where Ron is full of vim and vigor, ready to take the world by the horns and shoot from the hip or whatever hackneyed idiom you want to use. He’s tired of drinking, working his dead-end job and not having any money or prospects.

This is where he was when he called me yesterday. He’s enrolled in school and has supposedly stopped drinking. However, one late night, one eye from the cute girl across the room and he’s back, slamming shots and driving drunk before you can say “twelve-step.”

Point B is the descent. He’s still functioning, but things are beginning to unravel. He may be able to recover from the night (or two) of bacchanalia but gradually his grades will suffer and soon he’s at...

...Point C. The bottom of the heap. He’s dropped out of school, drinking full-time. Smoking tons of pot to drown out the shame he’s feeling. This can go on for months or years, but at some point he’ll reach point D; clawing his way back from hell. Unfortunately, he doesn’t ask for help and is afraid of seeming uncool to his loser friends.

Eventually he’s back to A, ready to begin his decline from the summit once more.

Forgive me if I sound cynical or even mean. I’ve seen this before in plenty of my friends. Not one of them has ever outrun their demons successfully. I’ve offered my help and my shoulder many times. Unfortunately they take advantage and I get screwed somehow.

It’s not happening this time. I’ve got way too much at stake to get involved with another man’s problems. Keep on walking, Ron. Call me when you get your life together. Sadly, I think the only phone call that’ll be any different will be one telling me about funeral arrangements.

One question about Michael Vick.

noreply@blogger.com (Samuel Johnson) — Wed, 29 Jul 2009 21:21:00 +0000

Would you disallow him from returning to work were he a pizza delivery driver?
That is all.

Controlling Costs...One Big Mac At a Time

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Tue, 28 Jul 2009 18:46:00 +0000

From MSNBC:

"About a third of adult Americans are obese, and the obesity rate rose 37 percent between 1998 and 2006, the years covered by Monday's study.

Prescription drugs for obesity-related illnesses account for much of the rise in spending. Medicare spends about $600 more per year on prescriptions for an obese beneficiary than a normal-weight one, the study found."

And why shouldn't we tax the hell out of McDonald's and Mountain Dew?

I'm all for personal choice, but, again, same thing with the smoking, there's a greater threat to America here than just someone's right to choose Big Macs.
Also, no reasonable adult would choose to start smoking after having all the facts. In the same way, no reasonable adult, when given a choice between "burger" and Partially Hydrogenated Xanthan Syrup would choice the latter.

I'm not attacking the overweight or the smokers (God knows I was both, for a long time) but to have a healthy populace, you have to start somewhere. The wallet is a good place to start. Not everyone has the will to quit eating crap or smoking without some help.

Off the Grid

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Fri, 17 Jul 2009 18:39:00 +0000

Check out this unintentionally hilarious website.

Oh man, that's rich. And scary.

Type rest of the post here

Creativity

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Wed, 15 Jul 2009 15:44:00 +0000

I think sometimes I forget that the really fun and meaningful things in life are a luxury.

Playing music (or writing, or painting) is a luxury. They are a way to fill in the gaps between the mundane and prosaic activities we endure each day. In the same way that a vacation is a break from the norm, creative activities give life more meaning.

I don’t believe that playing music, for example, gives my life all its meaning. However, it certainly contributes to my way of life. Feeding the dog and cleaning the bathroom give life meaning as well. I would certainly be less of a person (and dirtier) if I were but not a mopper.

Unfortunately, luxuries are the first activities to be jettisoned. I find myself falling farther away from my music. As a consequence, I’ve started to derive pleasure in the mathematical tasks of life; I can say I’ve even found comfort.

Paying the bills is a good example. I write the checks and balance our budget and this elicits a positive emotional response. But to what end? How does this strengthen my bond with myself and the music?

Cranking out a check to Geico ain’t exactly doing a painting in the style of Monet. Further, if I were to take less time and be a touch less fastidious, I’d afford myself more time to write a few songs.

Nonetheless, I enjoy the fruits of these seemingly spiritless activities. I enjoy doing them and doing them well. A well-mopped floor is a beautiful thing. Yet, I think I use these tasks as substitutes for - and road blocks to - creativity.

What I’m saying is this: there’s joy to be had in straight-ahead activities. But knowing I’ll always get the right answer (or pay the bill, or mop the floor) takes out some of the excitement. When I sit down with the guitar I don’t always crank out a good song, or even any song. The effort behind it, the soul behind it is just as important as the final product.

Slippery slope argument here: If I continually choose the easier and more immediately rewarding tasks, pretty soon I’ll abandon my music and my writing altogether. I’ll choose instead to sit home and watch Survivor because it’s cheap entertainment and I can be passively involved.

Luckily I have another month-and-a-half before school starts. I have a vacation coming up, and all the bills will be up-to-date. Survivor will just have to wait.

Break on Through to the Other Side

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Wed, 08 Jul 2009 17:21:00 +0000

The Ladybird and I caught a rare episode of Frasier last night as we were preparing dinner. She said that her father had formulated a theory about Frasier’s style of humor: it was all door-related. People coming in and out of doors, people going out of doors in order to create these conundrums in which Frasier and Niles had to navigate out of with their wit and humor.

I thought of other door-related sitcoms and realized that most of the most popular ones had some sort of entrance and exit related humor device; it’s the nature of the sitcom. Through doors, characters bring with them that week’s problem. Comedy happens when, for example, Frasier must deal with an external force creating disharmony within the Family and therefore within the Self. In this episode, the disharmony comes from a boorish and disrespectful girlfriend played by Felicity Huffman.

I took the idea a bit further though: the side of the screen from which the main characters usually enter can determine the political leanings of the shows. For example, All in the Family. Bigoted and uncouth Archie Bunker takes an extremist tone with nearly everyone who comes through the door of his house, which is located on the right side of our screen. Liberal son-in-law, Michael, gets it the worst (“Meathead!”) when he challenges Archie’s wrongheaded blusterings.

Full House and Who’s the Boss? Both have characters entering the house from the left and have an implicitly progressive message. The families in Who’s the Boss? would be considered non-traditional. What household in real life has a live-in male nanny from the Bronx, his daughter, a single mother, granny Mona, and an effeminate boy who turns out to be gay in real life? Similarly, Full House counts because of the show’s location (San Francisco) and the fact that Danny Tanner heads a non-traditional household as well.

Along with Full House, there are two other shows from ABC’s early-90’s successful TGIF night. The first is Step by Step, which is a ripoff of the Bradys. However, whereas the Brady Bunch’s entrance is from the right, (the kids never got into any real trouble. One has to assume that Alice held Bible studies in between cooking dinner and cleaning toilets) Step by Step’s left-sided entrance carries the non-traditional banner much more readily. The Bradys never had a stoner cousin who lives in a van behind the house. Carol and Frank must have been fairly liberal to allow such nonsense. Get a job, hippie.

Family Matters, the show that gave us ::shudder:: Urkel, was a perennial favorite in ABC’s weekend canon. Likewise, the left-sided entrance connotes a search for justice and progressive empowerment of the black culture. Carl, the patriarch of the Winslow clan, is the face of justice with his role as a police officer. Uber-nerd, Steve Urkel, had a passion for science that probably encompassed belief in evolution; didn’t he also make an atomic bomb in his basement? However, one can argue that the Urkel dance is devolution of sorts for black culture.

On the flip side, there’s The Cosby Show. The Huxtables lived in a stately townhouse in NYC with a right-sided entrance. Similarly, the show portrays the nuclear black family. Here, instead of a middle-class aesthetic, Cliff and Claire represent the upper class with their jobs as an obstetrician and an attorney, respectively. Although theirs is considered a strong family, their right-sided entrance isn’t wholly conservative. The conservatism from Bill Cosby’s speeches that seem to berate many in the black community.

“Fifty percent drop out rate, I’m telling you, and people in jail, and women having children by five, six different men. Under what excuse? I want somebody to love me. And as soon as you have it, you forget to parent. Grandmother, mother, and great grandmother in the same room, raising children, and the child knows nothing about love or respect of any one of the three of them. All this child knows is “gimme, gimme, gimme.””

Whether you agree with Cosby or not, I contend that this rhetoric has more in common with James Dobson’s Focus on the Family than Malcolm X’s separatist oratory.

Murphy Brown presents an interesting juxtaposition. As the 90’s representation of the Breakdown of the Nuclear Family, Brown’s single-mom status brought the opprobrium and ire of many conservatives. If only they knew how tame Murphy Brown would seem today...
At home, with the baby, her progressive nature seems to come out. As a successful woman with a baby and no one except the occasional visit from Eldin the handyman, her house naturally has a left-side opening.

At work, however, the elevator to the FYI studios appears from the opposite side. No matter how far women have come in the workplace, there’s still a patriarchy that surrounds professional careers. This conservatism reaches all the way to heavyweights like Katie Couric and Barbara Walters. Walter Cronkite can get as fat and old as he wants, but god forbid Walters starts to show her age. When Katie Couric took over for Dan Rather it was rumored that the execs at CBS paid more attention to whether she could take on such a big role AND take care of the kids than her male counterparts. Brown, like Couric are both single parents as well; although Brown’s was by choice and Couric’s through happenstance.

Obviously, there’s no proof to these claims. I could come up with shows that defy this theory. But, I’m not going to. Because I’m lazy.

Remember, correlation should never be confused with causation.

However, given the liberal/progressive history of Hollywood and the television industry, maybe somewhere, deep in the recesses of the collective hive-mind that is entertainment there are proclivities towards door placement as a means of silent protest similar to a basketball player wearing an armband in solidarity to a cause. If only Joe McCarthy would have applied my theory to the silver screen, he would have rooted out a lot more commies.

Stinkin' Thinkin'

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Tue, 30 Jun 2009 17:25:00 +0000

What is it about working that give us a sense of purpose? As I sit here at my desk, Twittering, Facebooking, and reading about whatever interests me I wait for work to materialize. I would love to say, “not that I’m complaining.” But I can’t. I am complaining. For the past two weeks, I’ve been either extremely busy or doing my best not to fall asleep during the day.

I enjoy the downtime, especially after the wedding, but sometimes it’s disheartening to realize that I’ll be here for eight hours and have probably two hours of actual honest-to-goodness work to do.

Frankly it’s a dereliction of duty. Sometimes I feel like I am stealing from this company. Not literally, but in an ersatz way I’m getting paid to do nothing. And I hate it.

We need the money, I need the experience, so what’s the problem?

I’ve known people who routinely steal from the company for which they work. At first they feel like they’re getting away with something. Hey, a few extra bucks! A new ipod, cool! Over time, they begin to resent and eventually loathe the company.

Thieves begin to hate and resent the people from whom they steal. Material goods or not, it all comes with the same tragic set of circumstances. This is best exemplified with the Loser Friend. We all know him or her. You become friends as teenagers, in high school. You smoke pot together, talk about how cool it would be to go on the road. You might even discuss college. As time goes by your paths diverge. You mature. They don’t. You begin to dress like an adult, they don’t.

On a side note, at the mall I saw a twenty-something father wearing clothes that teenagers wear while carrying his baby. C’mon! Grow up! Peter Pan motherfucka.

Anyway...

You try to extricate yourself from your circumstances; they resign themselves to the same set of circumstances.

This breeds contempt. They begin to steal your success, as it were. The Loser cannot understand how you are now “so much better” than they. Their thievery manifests itself as a parasitic self-pity in which they bemoan the fact that you’re not as good of a friend as you once were. Truth is, you’re capable of being a better friend, but they don’t want support. The Loser Friend wants you to crawl back into your previous hole where you will languish and eventually the parasite will have overtake its host.

A quick explanation: The imagery is a little harsh, but I think it’s the most illustrative. Also, “Loser” doesn’t mean they’re hopeless, it just means they’re at a station in their life that, if you continue to stick around, will suck your motivation like a tape worm or other parasite.

So how does this relate to me? I feel contemptuous sometimes towards my company. Why? They believe I’m capable and worthy. They trust me. No, it’s my own fault. When I’m productive I’m thankful for my job. When I’m less so, any work given to me is an imposition on my time. I think, how can they do that? Can’t they see I’m busy doing my own thing?

It’s a psychological minefield. Luckily, I recognize it. I stop it. Even when I’m not busy, I try to make work or go home. If I have to be there for a client, I am still working just not actively being productive. I’m on reserve status, so to speak.

I try to live my life in such a way as to never have a guilty conscience. And I feel guilty for everything. The kind of “stinkin’ thinkin’” (Stuart Saves his Family, great movie for all of who grew up in a dysfunctional household) that breeds contempt has no place in a successful life. This is different than doubt, however. But that’s a different incoherent stream-of-consciousness rant on a blog nobody reads.

Theft comes in many forms. You have to realize you’re doing it before you can stop it. That’s the real difference between the Losers and everyone else. Ok, I’m off to find some work to do. I have a smile and I’m ready to rock and roll. After lunch, that is.

Searching With My Good Eye Closed

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Wed, 24 Jun 2009 19:01:00 +0000

Our wonderful overlords, Google, have allowed us to track our web searches and access them later. Since I am a loyal Google user (hail Google), my searches are saved. Luckily, only I can access them, because who knows what would happen if someone found out I looked for the Newhart show in May of last year.

So, June 24 of last year I googled the lyrics for the Clash’s ‘Tommy Gun’. I searched for ethical issues in punk. Later I searched for saving youtube. After that, vegetable dish. It brings back memories...I was working on a project for school and I must have been hungry.

Next, I searched for How I met your mother season 4. What a good show. Season 4 was, in fact, quite good. Finally, I searched for rate my professor.

I wonder what professor I looked at. Nothing much the next day, however on June 26 I searched for guidelines for cats. Cats need guidelines. Otherwise, how will they grow and learn?

I remember most of these. They’re actually pretty boring. I’ll do some more digging, I bet I can find something that makes me say, “Doubleyouteeeff?”

The Afterglow.

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Mon, 22 Jun 2009 15:38:00 +0000

The wedding went off without a hitch. Well, one hitch. Ours. The Lyndon and his Ladybird are legal in the eyes of God now. Whew...Our kids dodged that one.

Planning and executing a wedding is as hard as it seems. However, just like anything else in life, you put into it what you get out of it.

Since I’ve had a little bit of time to breathe, here are a few things I learned:

1. Your mother will cry, no matter how strong she is the rest of the time.
2. You will cry no matter how strong you are the rest of the time.
3. Enjoying the company of your new extended family is an unparalleled blessing.
4. People will tell you who to invite and who not to invite, despite the fact that you didn’t invite the information.
5. In the end, it all comes together.
6. Strangers buy you bottles of champagne because they’re happy for you.
7. Weddings separate true friends and family from the mere hangers-on.
8. Money!
9. Presents!
10. Spreading ten pallets of mulch is hard, yet rewarding. Kind of like marriage.
11. Jokes about losing your virginity were funny the first 100 times.
12. Fart jokes, however, are always funny.
13. ‘Me So Horny’ is not an appropriate song for the dance floor.
14. Digital cameras are the best thing to happen to photography.
15. Winning twenty bucks by NOT smashing cake in your bride’s face is great for you, but makes you think less of the guy that made the bet.
16. All items have a price. Attaching the words “Wedding”, “Bride”, or “Groom” to the item, makes it four times more expensive.

Special thanks to Samuel Johnson for the shots of vodka and the ‘Glad Girls’ spin on his radio show. He’s an urbane cowboy if I ever met one.

Ten Daze

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Wed, 10 Jun 2009 19:37:00 +0000

Ten days. In ten days I’ll be married. After all the preparation and painting and planning and mulching, it’ll be over with. The actual event will most likely be bittersweet as the Ladybird and I move on to another stage of our life, our first as a married couple.
I’m excited about the wedding. I’m even more excited when, a month later, I’ll have a week and a half of beach time. No pets to clean up after. No work to deal with. No homework; just my new bride, myself and the Complete Works of Shakespeare. I think I’ll bring my guitar too.

I can’t wait. I’m glad I only have to do this once. Marriage, that is. I hope to have more than one more vacation.

Partial-Birth Hilarity

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Wed, 03 Jun 2009 13:05:00 +0000

Sometimes we forget about the real victims of abortion: The singing fetuses from heaven.

The Audacity of Travel

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Tue, 26 May 2009 20:42:00 +0000

My commute time to work has increased four-fold. What used to take ten minutes now takes 40-45. There are distinct disadvantages, but one advantage is that I get the opportunity to catch up on music that I haven’t been able to listen to and podcasts I love, as well as audiobooks and lectures I’ve been meaning to delve into.

My commute to school will be even longer, but since that’s way in the future (A.W. = After Wedding) I haven’t even given it much thought.

Hopefully I can engineer my schedule so I only have to get to class two times per week.

I’ve amassed many hours of good stuff to listen to. I have some philosophy lectures and other lectures on religion. I have some techy stuff I enjoy and some audiobooks that I am looking forward to tackling.

I’ve been on a presidential kick as of late. I’ve listened to both of Barack Obama’s books (Audacity of Hope and Dreams From my Father), Clinton’s autobiography (My Life) and I’m currently getting through 36 discs of Team of Rivals by Doris Kearns Goodwin, which chronicles Lincoln and his opponents during his run for president.

In the world of B.W. (Before the Wedding), life is humming along at a nice pace. There’s certainly a lot of work to be done yet, but ol’ Lyndon and his Ladybird are rockin’ this shit. It should be a fun party.

What's Going On

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Sun, 17 May 2009 21:18:00 +0000

An effective blog post doesn't include an excuse as to why the blogger hasn't written in a while. I read somewhere that posts to the tune of, "Sorry about not posting. I've been busy, will post soon." aren't worth posting. They're place holders.

Instead, you're to just post when you can and hope that your audience stays with you during times of lower inspiration or life happenings.

I'm going to break that rule.

It's been a couple of weeks since my last post. There have been lots of things to write about, but with moving, going to a new school, planning a wedding, and not having stable internet access, it's been tough keeping to a regular schedule of posts.

Just hang in there, the prez will highlight the inequities of life and enlighten you all soon enough. This Great Society shall be restored.

Lyndon
Type rest of the post here

I Hope I Don't Get Fired

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Wed, 06 May 2009 16:48:00 +0000

While I studiously chip away at my education, I work part-time for a lawyer. Seeing as how this is the profession I want to pursue, it’s a good fit. I enjoy the work, it’s fairly easy, if not boring sometimes.

My job is part data entry and part personal assistant. I run around and do this or that for the boss. I answer phones and try to be unfailingly polite to the occasional salesman or homeless person that occasionally wanders in. I smile and tell them that we’re not interested but good luck to you, sir.

My job is similar to one of a secretary. I answer phones and ask clients if they need coffee or a bottle of water. Traditionally, this is the job of women. I do women’s work.

Nonetheless, in a society such as ours, even a man can get ahead doing “women’s work.” In comparison to the office lady, who’s been with the attorney for over 20 years, I know very little. I’m a quick learner, but next to her, I’m a newbie.

But he still treats me better. I get more leeway when I make a mistake. I get the “lookin’ sharp today, sport” comments. Most of all I get the lion’s share of the respect.

At first I believed that he handled me with kid gloves because I was the new guy. However true that may have been, I’ve been here over a year. The bloom has fallen off that rose.

Clients and other lawyers treat me better, even as I’m serving them coffee or cleaning up a spill. Women or men; it doesn’t matter. I’m a young, good-looking, non-threatening white guy. Advantage: mine.

If I wanted, I could try half as hard, and get twice as far as nearly any woman in my field. My fiancee, on the other hand, has had to battle for equality her whole life. She’s doing well in law school but has to fight to be taken seriously. I have another friend who, according to her blog, has to constantly battle the culture of ignorance surrounding her race, gender and sexuality: the Holy Trinity of Discrimination.

I empathize. I can even transcend my own provincialism and approximate a sense of how they feel. But in reality - and it’s all reality - I have no idea how they deal with it.

Truth is, I like the respect I get. I like walking into a room and have people automatically assume I’m a professional, smart and with it, and treat me accordingly. I don’t feel like a professional. I’m fairly smart, but I have moments of profound self-doubt that would make Tony Robbins walk away in disgust.

I feel ashamed because I do enjoy it. In contrast, I don’t think I could stomach knowing that a majority of people would eye me with suspicion or cross the street if I walked behind them.

I don’t think I could psychologically handle feeling that a stranger thought I was just an “angry, black dyke” who would throw hands at the first sign of a perceived slight. I couldn’t handle being looked down upon because I was considered too emotional to make rational decisions.

It’s not just women.

One day, I asked my former roommate (who is black) how he felt when a store owner followed him around a store because he looked like a thief.

“You get used to it, I guess. Some people are just knuckleheads and think that all black people steal.”

He had resigned himself to the knowledge that he couldn’t change anyone. I felt proud for him. In a small way, he had Overcome. But did he want that? He didn’t need me telling him how brave he was.

Have I fetishized victimhood? Because I don’t have to deal with shit like this, do I just sit on Mount Whiteman and dole out bits and pieces of feckless sympathies? Do I pick and choose what I accept as “true” victimhood?.

A woman may say, “ I couldn’t stomach not being able to have children.” Or, “I could never get used to knowing that I may be drafted at the first sniff of an armed conflict.”

Isn’t that a form of victim projection? I’m glad I can’t bear children. I’m too old to be drafted now.

I don’t have too many black friends. There’s no real reason except that the circles I run with have very little in the way of diversity either due to a neighborhood affiliation, a job or school.

For my few black friends, I think I fetishize and try to co-opt a victimhood stance on their behalf in order to show them that I, as a white man in my munificence, understand them and accept them.

In essence, instead of seeing my black friends as individuals (as I do with my white friends) I have to get past their blackness first. How fucked up is that?

I project weakness onto them (and gays and women) because of my own need for respect and validation. It’s a deep and ingrained feeling of threat, I believe. If they take their eye off of what it is I represent and how good and accepting I am towards them, then they might usurp my “power”.

It’s not a conscious attitude. I think racial and gender stereotypes hurt everyone by transforming the individual into a one-dimensional caricature. However, on some level, white men have been trained to believe that any gain by women or minorities is a zero-sum game for them. This way of thinking is systemic and only serves to damage everyone’s future.

If you don’t believe me, white guys, try imagining your wife making all the money while you stay home with the kids. No matter how progressive you are, I bet that at some level you feel a twinge of panic.

The truth is, there is no threat. There are groups that prey on fear like this. The solution to this is to take people on as much of an individual basis as possible. I’ll certainly try. Victims are victims due to circumstance, not just history. No one needs my sympathy and no one needs my pride. Everyone deserves my respect.

I hope I can handle that.

Missed Connection

noreply@blogger.com (Samuel Johnson) — Thu, 30 Apr 2009 21:39:00 +0000

You: Svelte, statuesque blonde in the skinniest skinny jeans i've ever seen filled out by a butt that wouldn't quit. Holding a sign over your head the read "H.R. 1207 Google it."

Me: Blew by you in a black Civic. Slowed down enough to look at your butt and sign. Went to work and googled. The bill's primary sponsor: Ron Paul. Threw up in my mouth a little bit.

Respond to this ad and I'll tell you why you're an idiot.