Angry Anthony

To The Green & Gold Faithful

2009-08-19T08:41:00.005-05:00

Time to remember, kids; football is just a game. Brett Favre is just a nose-picking, lawn-mowing hillbilly that plays that game for money. The Green Bay Packers are a publicly owned corporate entity that makes tens of millions of dollars a year selling themselves as "small town cheeseheads." And there are scores of more interesting ways to kill four hours on a beautiful Fall Sunday than sitting in the dark rooting for a bunch of emotionally coddled, socially unaware, hyper-violent genetic freak millionaires who happen to be wearing the jersey of the team in the closest geographic proximity to your couch.

Hike, bike, shop, paint, re-tool, cook, write, read, produce, massage, adjust, readjust, wash, brush, camp, road trip, iron, carve, move, mull, hypothesize, question, listen, speak, grunt, mow for Chrissakes!

My theory; The more intense one's interest in sports, the less of an interesting, fulfilling personal life they lead.

Nothing wrong with being a fan, I'm one too...but a little perspective, please.

2009-06-11T09:32:00.001-05:00

It's an international mystery: How did a Missouri family's Christmas card photo end up in the Czech Republic, splashed across a huge storefront advertisement?
Danielle Smith said Wednesday that the photo taken of her family last year got sent to family and friends, and was posted on her blog and a few social networking sites. The photo showed her and her husband Jeff holding their two young children.
About 10 days ago, one of Smith's college friends was driving through Prague when he spotted their huge smiling faces in the window of a store specializing in European food. He snapped a few pictures and sent them to a flabbergasted Smith.
"It's a life-size picture in a grocery store window in Prague — my Christmas card photo!"

Which supports my number one rule; NEVER TRUST THE CZECHS!

2009-06-11T09:31:00.001-05:00

An Argentine man who tried to use two counterfeit bills has been found innocent, by reason of incompetence. A federal court in Buenos Aires says the forged bills presented by Marcos Ribles were "so clumsy and crude" that "they could not be accepted by most people."

A new phenomena…being too stupid to get arrested.

2009-06-11T09:29:00.002-05:00

A Spanish trade union is suing a bakery that allegedly threw the severed arm of an employee into a bin after it was amputated in an accident with a kneading machine. The Workers Commissions said in a statement Wednesday that Bolivian immigrant Franns Rilles lost his left arm in May 28 at the Rovira bakery in the eastern Valencia region.

Makes me question the Elephant Ears.

It's All In The Game

2009-05-10T19:26:00.000-05:00

In March, at a soccer match in Hilla, Iraq, between two local teams, as a player with the ball approached the goal to attempt a tying kick late in the game, an overenthusiastic spectator drew his gun and shot him dead.

The spectator drew a red flag.

You Make A Better Door Than A Window!

2009-05-10T19:25:00.000-05:00

An Oregon, Wis., man was arrested in February after his 9-year-old son wrote a school essay about the time his dad shot him in the buttocks with a BB gun because he was blocking his view of the TV set.

Now limp on in to the kitchen and get Daddy a Leinenkugel.

A Rose By Any Other...

2009-05-10T19:22:00.004-05:00

In April, the City Council of Vero Beach, Fla., grappling with the question of how much skin can legally be exposed in public, adopted the definitions that at least two other Florida jurisdictions use . "Buttocks," for example, is "the area of the rear of the body which lies between two imaginary lines running parallel to the ground when a person is standing, the first or top such line drawn at the top of the nates (i.e., the prominence of the muscles running from the back of the hip to the back of the leg) and the second or bottom line drawn at the lowest visible (sic) of this cleavage or the lowest point of the curvature of the fleshy protuberance, whichever is lower."

Stop it, you’re getting me hot!

Don't Throw Out The Bacon With The Bath Water

2009-05-05T10:27:00.004-05:00

I think it’s time, in the midst of all of this Swine Flu hysteria, to slap ourselves across each cheek (any of the four will do), throw some cold water in our faces and snap out of it.

The news wires are filled with terrified citizens from cities around the world timidly making their way down the sidewalk, wearing surgical masks and rubber gloves.

Schools are closing down because of one case of ‘what may be’ the swine flu virus in a student.

CNN even has a special section on it’s web page called Inside the HHS War Room: The Fight Against H1N1. War room? This so-called pandemic has gotten so out of hand they need a War Room?

As of this writing there are 853 cases worldwide…853. In a world with a population of roughly 6.77 billion. This is a pandemic? Let’s look at the definition a moment:

Pandemic;
an epidemic that is geographically widespread; occurring throughout a region or even throughout the world

Geographically widespread? 853 out of 6.77 billion is geographically widespread? Do the math. Right now this pandemic is found in one out of every 7,936,655 people. You think maybe we’re over reacting just a tad?

Don’t get me wrong, I do believe in the old adage that an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure. But I don’t think it’s a mathematical ratio. I think 800 pounds of prevention is still just a pound’s cure in the end.

So what’s responsible for this lack of perspective? I think two things are to blame:

1. The media – As much as I hate making the media a devil for all out ills, I think this one is spot on. We live in an age of 24 hour, round the clock news. They need to keep reporting something to stay on the air. So instead of broadcasting real news; that which readily effects us in our daily lives, they look at what we react to; the things that push our collective buttons.

Are we interested in highway bills? No. Don’t report it. Anna Nichole Smith’s baby? Love it. Keep it pumpin’. The talking heads are spewing out hours of what is barely interesting, much less newsworthy; baby Kayla, the Peterson murder, Brad and Angelina, the octuplet mommy, and on and on. Which brings us to number …

2. A fearful, over-protective populace – Let’s face it, the lemming mentality that drives humanity is creating a whirlpool of fear and ignorance that’s sucking us right down the Rabbit Hole. Safe, secure suburban families tune into the 24 hour news monkeys and suddenly they feel personally threatened by the flavor of the moment; tainted spinach, top-heavy SUVs rolling over on the highway, sex deviants and terrorists hiding behind every hydrangea bush…and now Swine Flu.

Let’s face it, we’re becoming far too protective of our children. That’s why, in the old days, they had 15 or 16. You never knew when you’d lose one; disease, farming accidents, civil war, or they just fell down the well. You had to be prepared for the worse. Now, with one or two lieblings in the nest, their importance becomes inflated and over-valued. Like dot-com stocks in the 90’s.

So suck it up people. Do the practical things. Wash your hands after you poop. Don’t rub your eyes after shaking hands with the homeless guy and, most importantly, STAY HOME IF YOU’RE SICK! When all is said and done, none of us are so important in our jobs that we need to crawl from our tainted sickbed to spread whatever horrific malady we have to our innocent co-workers.

Hey Genius, you’re an assistant human resources director for a dog food company. The world ain’t gonna come off it’s hinges if you stay home for two days.

I’m Anthony Wood. I’m angry. And I feel a cold coming on.

2009-05-04T08:41:00.000-05:00

'Nuns' Race Through London for Charity
AP
Dressed as nuns, runners race through London to raise money for a national children's charity. The run was sponsored by the musical "Sister Act," which is based on a movie about a singer who witnesses a murder and hides as a nun in a convent.

The event raised funds for children traumatized my Whoopi Goldberg movies.

2009-05-04T08:39:00.001-05:00

U of Oregon to Frisbee team: No pants, no season

In the world of intercollegiate Ultimate Frisbee, it's ultimately not cool to go without pants. So said a student board that governs club sports at the University of Oregon when it ended a highly-ranked team's season after five players shed their pants and underwear.

The game then went from Ultimate Frisbee to Second-Rate Squirt Guns.

2009-05-01T09:32:00.000-05:00

Alabama man sleeps with gun and shoots himself

A 24-year-old man likely will rethink his habit of sleeping with a gun after police said his 40-caliber pistol discharged and hit him in the shoulder on Wednesday. A police detective said the wound was not life threatening.

Which supports the age-old adage—“DON’T LIVE IN ALABAMA!!!”

2009-05-01T09:31:00.000-05:00

Bird loses meal to power line, causing outage

Utility workers suspect an osprey made a mess of its breakfast by dropping a fish on a power line, turning out the lights for folks trying to find their own way to start the day. Salem Electric workers called to an outage on the west side of the state capital Wednesday found a burned 14-inch fish beneath the line.

Blackened Catfish Etoufe’ anyone?

2009-05-01T09:30:00.000-05:00

Mannequin threatens to bust Ohio barbecue joint

A man who runs a Cincinnati-area barbecue joint says the busty mannequin he tethered to the front of the building has been good for business, but city officials say he needs a permit to keep her there.

In related news, Paris Hilton’s visit to Ohio has been extended indefinitely.

Take Me Out Of The Ball Game

2009-04-30T14:10:00.004-05:00

Matthew Stafford, an untested rookie quarterback, is drafted number one by the NFL’s Detroit Lions and signs a guaranteed 43 million dollar contract.

Manny Ramirez, star outfielder for the Los Angeles Dodgers, test the waters of free agency, but returns to the Dodgers to sign a two year, 25 million dollar a year contract. He took less than he wanted because he knew the current economic crisis would limit his pay scale.

The New York Yankees recently opened a new stadium that cost nearly a billion dollars to build. The Dallas Cowboys are in the works to build a stadium that will cost well over that amount.

This is it. The signs of Armageddon. The last of days. American society has completely lost it’s burger chomping, Wii playing, American Idol watching mind.

Are we comfortable, as a culture, that sports figures; players, agents and owners, make hundreds, even thousands of times more than our teachers, than our social workers, than our police and firefighters, than our soldiers in harms way?

I’m not. I’m angry to the point of projectile vomiting.

Hold it…I know what you hardcore fans will say, “Come on, Tony, it’s just business. It’s what people want. It’s what the market will bear.” Well take that bullshit argument, wrap it in a taco and shove it up till it says “hi-dee-ho” to your colon.

We can’t keep rationalizing every flaw in our society that makes a profit as “just business.”

Corporations pollute the water and air...It’s just business.

Gas guzzling SUVs are flooded on to the market, even though we have a dangerous dependency on foreign oil…It’s just business.

Wall Street greed merchants nearly bury the nation in bad vapor loans…It’s just business.

We have to realize that our culture; arts, entertainment, social life and sports, are a mirror to our real selves. They represent who we are as a country—not our politicians, not our flag or our marble monuments…our culture says who we really are. Our arts are disappearing. Theater and ballet companies are closing their doors. Museums are going under. But an average player in Major League Baseball makes over 3 million dollars a year.

So take a look in that mirror. Look hard. We seem comfortable, even entertained by obscenely massive salaries being thrown around for hormonally freakish nut-scratchers, ball-dunkers and tight ends. And we’ll pay top dollar for the best seats and 20 bucks for a beer and a brat. But God forbid we should raise property taxes a few dollars month to improve our schools? Let the public outrage begin!

Now don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate sports. I was an avid Packer fan growing up and still have a mild interest. Although I’d much rather play a sport than watch it. (We only get so many nice days up here in Da’ Great White North.) But enough is enough.

Back in the day, guys like Unitas and DiMaggio and Havlicek played for the love of the game. Sure, they made a pretty good salary doing it. They made a decent living. But they felt fortunate to be making that living playing a game that they loved. And they would have done it for free.

Today’s athletes have developed a twisted sense of privilege and obligation. They act like they’re owed the big payday. They’re whole self-esteem revolves around it. And they’ll stomp their feet and throw a fit if they don’t get it. “He’s making more than me? But I’m better than he is! I want more! I know I signed a contract last year, but I’m sitting out until you pay me more than him! Whaaaaa!!!!”

And, like bad parents who spoil their offspring, we give it to them. They drink and drive and we give it to them. They abuse their spouses and we give it to them. They stab people in strip clubs and we give it to them. They can exhibit all that is bad in human nature; greed, selfishness, brutality… and we give it to them. Michael Vick is serving time for supporting a barbaric dog fighting ring. But you can bet that when he gets out we’ll give it to him.

I had the great displeasure of living in Milwaukee when they were proposing that massive domed turd called Miller Park. You know, the 600 million dollar, single sport stadium with a faulty retractable roof? The one guys died making? The one that Milwaukee and surrounding county taxpayers were going to be footing half the bill for? Without a public referendum?

How obscene is that? The local, sports loving politicians and business owners (with the help of ol’ Bud Selig, who no doubt made a pretty penny himself on the deal) shoved through this abomination and we were going to be responsible for half of it whether we liked baseball or not. With no say in the matter whatsoever.

The projected amount in tax payer dollars for Miller Park, when all is said and done, will be over 400 million dollars. Let that sit in the back of your mind for a moment…400 million. A major city with a faltering school system, high crime, crumbling infrastructure and under-funded public services, and we decide a ball park is a better investment. Are we mouth breathing morons or what?

The argument was made that Miller Park would bring tons of new revenue into the area. Revenue from what? Brat and peanut sales and parking fees?

And as a last slap in the face, Miller Brewing steps in, shells out 20 million and gets to name it Miller Park. Wait a minute. 400 million vs 20 million. We paid more. Why isn’t it called “The Peoples Park of Milwaukee?” Seems only fair. Miller even got luxury skyboxes out of the deal. Seems like an extravagance for a company that makes a beer that tastes like watered down cat urine.

Which is why, when they had the much ballyhooed ribbon cutting ceremony, I made a personal vow: I will never, never ever, never ever ever ever ever NEVER SET FOOT INTO MILLER PARK AS LONG AS I BREATHE GOD’S AIR!!! I don’t care if there’s a million in gold ingots waiting for me on the pitchers mound. I don’t care if my life and livelihood depends on it. I don’t care if Jehovah himself is gonna come down for a visit and a first row, third base side seat is reserved for me. I will never, ever go in.

I think it’s time to look in that mirror. I think it’s time to stare down these greedy sports stars and agents and owners and make like Nancy Reagan and just say no.

I’m Anthony Wood. I’m angry. And I have no gall bladder.

By The Hilt Of Might Mjolner!

2009-04-30T09:03:00.001-05:00

Inmate Can't Change Name to 'Sinner'
A Nebraska judge nixes a prison inmate's request to change his name to "Sinner Lawrence Bilskirner." Jonathan Thomas says he wants the new moniker because he is a "heathen" who worships the Norse god Thor. But the judge suspects Thomas may find a new identity handy for dodging law enforcement and child-support cases.

This ruling may delay Charles Manson changing his name to “Puff-a-licious Pound Puppy.”

Want Fries With That?

2009-04-30T08:54:00.001-05:00

Man Cuts Off, Eats Finger in Protest
Upset over unpaid wages, a Serbian union official chops off his finger and eats it to protest the situation. "We, the workers, have nothing to eat. We had to seek some sort of alternative food and I gave them an example," Zoran Bulatovic says.

He also said the finger tasted “Kind of like mladunče.”

Careful Through That Metal Detector

2009-04-30T08:50:00.001-05:00

Man Dies After 34 Shots From Nail Gun
Reuters
Authorities in Sydney, Australia, release an X-ray image from a horrifying case -- the slaying of a man who died after being shot in the head with a nail gun 34 times. Police hope that the photo will prompt someone to come forward with information in the unsolved death.

They have ruled out suicide.

E-Nuffs Z-Nuff!

2008-10-08T17:23:00.003-05:00

As an American taxpayer, I cannot express how furious I am about the government’s bailout and purchase of Fannie Flagg and Bernie Mac.

Now let me say at the outset, I have nothing against these two talented, albeit diverse Hollywood talents.

She was always one of my favorites on the old Match Game TV show. With her sparkling wit, impish grin and tight sweaters, she was that modern, genteel Southern belle with a feisty spirit running just under the surface. And who wasn’t a huge fan of the book Fried Green Tomatoes? (although the movie version was a bit too mainstreamed, if you ask me.) And did I mention the tight sweaters?

And as for Mr. Mac (God rest his soul), he was a hugely talented actor and comedian of African American descent. Not only a fixture on Fox’s Bernie Mac Show (God rest its soul), but also a standup comedian of famous, if not off-color, repute and a hilarious sidekick in George (the Chin) Clooney’s Ocean’s Eleven, Twelve and Thirteen (God rest their souls).

But to buy them out for billions of hard earned tax payer dollars?! Ridiculous!

It’s just another example of how tightly the Hollywood elite has wrapped it’s Liberal congressional puppets around their Jewish-Intellectual fingers. What’s next? A Communist Michael Moore Highway Bill? An Oprah Winfrey Pork Chop Pork Barrel? I say thee nay!

Stand up, my fellow Americans! Fight the Hollywood/ Washington Insider Elite with good old Yankee spirit and ingenuity. Complain to people around you! Talk loudly at restaurants, libraries and on public transportation! Make yourself annoying and make your voice heard!

If not to your government representatives, at least to the possible Liberal Elitist Communists you bump into every day.

God Bless America.

Headline news 10/07/2008

2008-10-07T17:04:00.002-05:00

Hundreds of people are being drawn to a Catholic hospital in Springfield by what they say looks like an image of the Virgin Mary in a window. Sister Kathleen Sullivan, senior vice president at Mercy Medical Center, said the image in a vacant, second-story office was first noticed Tuesday morning.

As many as 300 people, some weeping, gathered outside the building to take photographs, pray, and say the rosary.

In a related story, Santa bought new sleigh radar, the Tooth Fairy is raising her rates, and John Goodman has taken a dump that looks alarmingly like Buddy Hackett. The actor expects millions of emotional Las Vegas pilgrims to his home in the coming weeks.

2008-10-07T17:03:00.001-05:00

A 7-year-old boy broke into a popular Outback zoo, fed a string of animals to the resident crocodile and bashed several lizards to death with a rock, the zoo's director said Friday.
The 30-minute rampage, caught on the zoo's security camera, happened early Wednesday after the boy jumped a security fence at the Alice Springs Reptile Center in central Australia.

The child then went on a killing spree, bashing three lizards to death with a rock, including the zoo's beloved, 20-year-old goanna, which he then fed to "Terry," an 11-foot, 440-pound saltwater crocodile.

“Someone’s asking for a timeout…”

2008-10-07T17:02:00.001-05:00

A Canadian farmer has won a contest in California with a pumpkin that weighs more than 1,500 pounds.

Jake van Kooten of British Columbia collected more than $9,000 in prize money Saturday at the Elk Grove Giant Pumpkin and Harvest Festival.

Van Kooten was later arrested for steroid use.

2008-10-07T17:01:00.000-05:00

Tokyo, Japan

Police have apprehended a Western man who went skinny dipping in a moat ringing the Imperial Palace in a busy Tokyo business district, attracting a huge crowd, officials said Tuesday.

The naked middle-aged man jumped into the moat, then threw rocks and splashed water at two policemen who chased him in a rowing boat, a Tokyo Metropolitan Police official said on condition of anonymity, citing protocol.

The police official did not know the man's name or nationality, but he did continually shout, “I’m a maverick, damn it! I’m a maverick!”

2008-10-07T16:58:00.002-05:00

The ashram-museum in Ahmedabad devoted to India's highly revered icon of freedom Mahatma Gandhi recently re-installed a replica of the spiritual leader's personal toilet, in that Gandhi's own hygiene-consciousness was such a part of his legacy. It is said that he cleaned the toilet daily and referred to it as his "temple.”

Which goes against the age-old adage, “Never shit where you pray.”

2008-09-18T08:03:00.016-05:00

The Long And Short Of It

To mark the release of Guinness World Records 2009, He Pingping, the shortest man who can walk, met up with Svetlana Pankratova, the world's leggiest woman
He stands at 2-foot-5, while Pankratova's legs are measured at nearly 52 inches, more than 4 feet long.

She was honored to be in the famed book of records.

And he got a little head.

Headline News - 9/18/2008

2008-09-18T08:03:00.015-05:00

The God of Product Placement

Syracuse University staff and students were a bit perplexed the other day when a statue dedicated to Ernie Davis, the first Africa American to win the Heisman trophy, was wearing a pair of shoes with the prominent Nike swoosh logo.

It seems the Nike company wasn’t even around when Davis died of leukemia in 1963.

It can only mean one thing; that a huge corporate giant has figured out how to travel back in time!

Consumers and art lovers alike can now look forward to Michaelangelo’s David wearing Levis, the Mona Lisa holding a can of Coke and Jesus in the Last Supper sporting a T-shirt with an arrow that points to Judas and says “I’m with stupid.”

2008-09-18T08:03:00.012-05:00

Here Kitty-Kitty!

A Pennsylvania woman who thought she was petting a neighbor's cat got a smelly surprise when it turned out to be a skunk. Not only did the skunk spray the woman before dawn Monday, but it ran into her Mount Carmel home.

The woman immediately dialed 911 from her toaster, washed herself off with a battery charger and had a bite to eat from her laundry hamper.

2008-09-18T08:03:00.003-05:00

Poo-Based Power

San Antonio unveiled a deal on Tuesday that will make it the first U.S. city to harvest methane gas from human waste on a commercial scale and turn it into clean-burning fuel.

It’s the State’s first attempt at converting power from it’s largest natural resource.

Headline News - 9/17/2008

2008-09-17T15:38:00.001-05:00

Russia Makes New Friends

Russia, on Wednesday, signed friendship treaties with the breakaway regions of Abkhazia and South Ossetia. Prime Minister Vladimir Putin also gave the regions promise rings, and said that they were all going to be, quote, “ BFF’s 4-Ever.” If not, Russia will take back the rings, spread ugly, slutty rumors about the regions, and shoot nuclear warheads up their asses.

2008-09-17T15:37:00.003-05:00

Dogs Catch Human Yawns

Researchers today claimed they’ve discovered that dogs can catch yawns from humans. The phenomenon known as contagious yawning was thought to be found only in humans and chimpanzees, and begs the question, Why the fuck are we wasting valuable time and money on dog-yawning? Get dogs to teach humans how to lick themselves and get back to me.

2008-09-17T15:35:00.002-05:00

Techno Head-Butting

Supporters for Barrack Obama claim that Republican nominee John McCain is, quote “technically out of touch with mainstream America”, citing the fact that McCain doesn’t own a cell phone, never emails and has yet to be shown how to get on to the internet. In a reply to his critics, McCain sent the following telegram;

“Stop calling me out of touch—stop—That’s the bunk!—stop—That’s all a bunch of bull malarkey and you all can go run down an alley and yell Fish!—stop.”

Aides claim that McCain also threatened to fire up his horseless steam carriage, load up his crossbow and quote, “Come down there and give some smart alec a fat lip.”

2008-09-17T15:33:00.003-05:00

ATF Lost Dozens of Weapons, Laptops, Audit Shows

The Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives said Wednesday it is changing its ways after an audit showed that the agency was losing guns and laptops, often through carelessness. According to a Justice Department audit, the inspector general reported the ATF was unable to account for 76 weapons and 418 laptops over the past five years.

A spokesman for the Bureau explained the losses saying, “Hey, cut us some slack, we were out having a smoke and a beer.”

2008-09-17T15:26:00.004-05:00

I’m All Iked Out

Rescue teams in the Texas Gulf coast enacted what is called the largest search and rescue operation in state history. The teams spent endless man-hours giving aid to those stranded victims of Hurricane Ike who refused to evacuate; or as the Rescue Teams lovingly referred to them, “the redneck, moron shit-for-brains.”

2008-09-17T15:19:00.013-05:00

Wipe That Smile Off

Researchers at the Georgia Pacific Company in Neenah, Wisconsin developed a new “three-ply toilet paper” The new paper, which is a ply thicker than the standard two ply, has been welcomed by people with severe allergies, those with chronic diarreah, extreme masturbators and the staff at Fox News.

Never Trust the Amish

2008-09-16T13:16:00.000-05:00

A little something we produced on Amish "assimilation."

2+2=Duh?

2008-09-15T11:40:00.000-05:00

It’s been said that there are three kinds of people in the world; those that know how to count. And those that don’t.

This old joke elegantly applies to our current financial crisis; both in real estate and banking in general.

All through the nineties and into the new millennium banks and other lending organizations we’re handing out loans like they were Halloween candy. Every half-wit who could sign his own name was getting a credit card. If you could walk upright and speak in semi-intelligeable grunts and groans, you too could get a home loan.

On May 9th of 2008 the award winning NPR program This American Life, hosted by Ira Glass, did a full, one-hour expose on why the housing crisis was happening and the financial house of cards that is starting to tumble. It was called The Giant Pool of Money. You can find it at: http://www.thislife.org/Radio_Episode.aspx?episode=355

In it, reporter Alex Blumberg describes what are called No Interest/No Asset Loans, which basically means you don’t need a job or proven income to get a home loan. Here’s a selection from the transcript:

Alex Blumberg: A guy on the phone told me that a NINA loan stands for No Income No Asset, as in, someone will lend you a bunch of money without first checking if you have any income or any assets. For example, a guy I met named Clarence Nathan. He worked 3 part-time, not very steady jobs, and made a total of 45 thousand dollars a year, roughly. He got into trouble and needed money, so he took out a loan against his house. A big one.

Clarence Nathan: Call it 540 for round figures.

Alex Blumberg: And you basically borrowed that from the bank ($540,000) and they didn’t check your income?

Clarence Nathan: Right. It’s a no income verification loan. They don’t do that. It’s almost like you pass a guy on the street and say, “Lend me 540 thousand dollars?” He says, “What do you do?” “Hey, I got a job.” “Okay.” It seems casual even though there are a lot of papers that get filled out and stuff flies all over with faxes and emails. Essentially that’s…that’s the process.

Alex Blumberg: Would you have loaned you the money?

Clarence Nathan: I wouldn’t have loaned me the money. And nobody I know would have loaned me the money. I know guys who are criminals who wouldn’t loan me that and they break your knee-caps. I don’t know why the bank did it. I’m serious…540 thousand dollars to a person with bad credit.

I remember hearing this original broadcast. I was so flabbergasted I nearly pissed myself in the middle of I-94. And the show goes on and on like that. People with no business even borrowing ten dollars from their in-laws are getting housing loans in upwards of $250,000 to $400,000. And why? Well let’s go back to the eighties, to a bobble-headed, grade B actor turned president named Ronald Regan.

See, Rah-Rah Ronnie was all about getting government off the backs of the little guys. His motto was; deregulation, deregulation and more deregulation. He wanted to free the free market and let American hard work and ingenuity grow the economy like Barry Bonds at the horse doctors. And it did. And the deregulation trend continued with George Bush Sr., Bill Clinton and up through George Dub-Ya.

But the problem with deregulation is the reason many of our institutions, like banking and housing, were regulated in the first place. To keep conniving, weasely, assholes from taking advantage of the system for their own personal gain. Because, as they say, behind every great fortune lies a crime.

In the late nineties, soulless balls-of-shit investment bankers found loopholes that allowed them to sell loans to larger financial institutions overseas and take a percentage off the top as commission. They didn’t care what you made per year. They didn’t care if you defaulted or went bankrupt. They just wanted you to sign on the dotted line so they can sell off the loan and get their taste. And they gorged themselves like Karl Rove in a Twinkie factory.

Nice. Even though I’m a devout agnostic, I sometimes pray there’s a hell with a special, infinitely horrific slot for people like that. Something with razor-sharp chains, molten hot dildos and endless loops of Tom Cruise movies.

But the banking weasels are not the only ones to blame. Can any of us do simple math anymore? Did it strike any of these “poor home loan victims” that it’s virtually impossible to make a house payment on a $7.00 an hour Wal-Mart stocking job?

Here’s a simple quiz; If you make $1200 a month, how many $2300 a month mortgage payments can you make?…I’ll give you a minute…NONE!!!

What…did you think the Magic Money Monkeys were gonna fly out your poop-shoot at the last minute, pulling gold doubloons from their cheeks?

And now the news is full of stories on how we’re all supposed to bail out these poor, misguided saps who are defaulting on their loans. My opinion? If you’re so God-awful, incomprehensively stupid that you can’t figure out you couldn’t afford the loan in the first place, you are on your own.

But for those really hurting, I’ve got some budget cutting tips:

1. Cancel your kid’s cell phones. Do you really need to be paying hundreds of dollars a month so they can text message each other about the Jonas Brothers and navel piercings? In case of emergencies, give them each a quarter and bring back payphones. They’ll be fine.

2. Cancel your cable TV. Do you really need ESPN kickboxing, endless home decorating and cooking shows and fifteen stations all showing reruns of Everybody Loves Raymond? Broadcast TV has all the info you need. It’s free. And it’s healthy. Put down your remote, get off your ass and take a walk.

3. Cancel your internet service. Come on, besides the ten minutes of emailing, all you do is surf porn anyway. Walk to the library, they have high speed connections. You can also dream up creative ways of jerking off in public. It’s free and, hey, maybe you could crack open a book or two while you’re there. Possibly one called Personal Finances For Dummies.

4. And, finally, (before you go ahead with step 3) open an ebay account and sell your 42 inch plasma TV, your surround sound system and all the Playstation, Nintendo Wii and X-Box crap you’ve got lying around. That’s at least one monthly mortgage payment right there. And you might have time to say more than two sentences a week to your kids.

I think this financial crisis might be a gift in disguise. We might all figure out how to do a lot more with a lot less.

Or I might just be talking out my assets.

I’m Anthony Wood. I’m angry. And I just had a warm M&M cookie.

A Little Effort

2008-09-15T00:21:00.001-05:00

It always boggles my mind how factions of our society love to gravitate towards the great unwashed.

We’ve got grunge, self-made Mohawks, piercings in every lobe and orifice and tattoos up the yin-yang. Jeans are falling off of our asses and everyone’s idea of dressing up is putting on your “good sweatsuit.”

Whatever happened to the suit and tie? And I’m not talking about borrowing your dad’s double knit horse blanket and novelty tie when you go for your job interview at Wal-Mart. I’m talking about tailor made, fine quality wool with three button front closure and a double vented back with matching pants. Something by Kenneth Cole or Hugo Boss. Add on a fitted Domani Blue Label dress shirt and Bulgari silk tie. Put on you oven mitts, ladies, ‘cause I’m on fire!

Back in the day, men wore suits and ties all the time. Check out all the classic films from the 40’s and 50’s. Jimmy Stewart, Burt Lancaster and the god-among-men Cary Grant. These guys had style, class and dignity, even if their characters were down and out and down on their luck. They may have felt bad, but they looked gooooood.

Dressing up is a sign of how you view yourself. That you care about the world you’re in. And you want to project the best image of yourself to that world.

Granted, it may not be practical in this day and age for a young man to wear a suit every day. What with all the…video-gaming and text messaging and emailing they have to do. A man works up a sweat.

I admit, right now, I qualify as the world’s worst dress guy more days than not. Many is the time my sweaty, rag-tag ensemble looks like I’m just wearing laundry. Like I dove naked into the Salvation Army bin and popped out looking like an ad for color-blindness. But I do like dressing up for special occasions. It not only makes me feel good, it’s a sign of respect to those who may have invited me to the function. Even for these special events, people don’t take the time to dress up anymore. Weddings, funerals, baptisms and birthday parties, people now forgo the Donna Karan and the Armani for panda bear appliqué sweatshirts and pajama bottoms.

A few years back I watched the funeral for Ronald Regan on television. Now bear in mind, I don’t hold the old geezer in high regard. As a matter of fact, I put the oil and real estate crisis squarely in his deregulated, doddering lap (more on that in another rant). But hundreds of people who did admire him waited for hours in the June heat to be part of the procession that walked by his casket. And what did I see in the throngs of reverent Americans? Sweat suits, windbreakers, flannels and faded jeans. These dunderheads supposedly held the President in high esteem and this is how they show it? Go back to the 60’s and look at the footage of Kennedy’s funeral; suits and ties all around. Hell, back in the 60’s people wore suits and ties to football games. Now that’s class.

The one that cheeses me off the most is the “Biker Grunge” look. You know, that leather-bound, goateed, bandana-headed sweat-bag that likes to adopt that American Rebel image. Yeah…real rebellious. It’s rebellious to go down to the Harley-Davidson shop and pick through the thousands of different shirts, jackets, pants and headbands, all with the same logo and color scheme. It’s easy to be a “rugged individualist” when millions of other folks are doing the same thing. Oh, and don’t forget the Harley booties for the baby.

Wouldn’t it be great if the dress-down trends started to reverse? People would actually be caring and investing in their appearance? The Green Bay Packer hoodies and Tommy Hilfiger sweat pants would be gone from Sunday Mass. Students would be milling around campus in Pendleton sport jackets and blazers instead of cargo shorts and retro t-shirts. We could turn on the tube and see Lil Wayne, not in fallen ass jeans and tons of tacky bling, but in a sharp button-down Claiborne with a silk Perry Ellis shirt. People would start to feel good about themselves. They’d say hello to strangers on the street. Hold doors open for others. Give up bus seats to little old ladies. Do constructive things like read, write and get together with folks, not to waste time and get hammered, but to get to know one another and get involved in things like community garden planning or movie clubs or night classes. People would volunteer for Meals On Wheels and food pantries. Crime and suicide would go down. Self esteem and self-empowerment would go up. Am I living in a fool’s paradise? Maybe so…maybe so. But it’d at least be cool to try, wouldn’t it?

This happened where I used to teach once. I wore a suit and tie to work because I had a bad head cold and I felt like a walking human booger. So I dressed up to make myself feel better, and it worked. So I started doing it every day. My co-workers noticed and over the weeks and months other guys started wearing suit coats and dress shirts. We felt better about ourselves. More on top of things. More respected. More in control.

Now I know what you’re going to say, Hey man, I can’t afford to just go out and buy a suit. I don’t have that kind of money!

I went on line and checked prices. Average for a two-piece Perry Ellis, Kenneth Cole or Giorgio Fiorelli? About $120.

How much did that last X-Box game set you back, Gomer? SNAP!

I’m Anthony Wood. I’m angry. And my inseam is 37.

The Mix

2008-09-14T21:31:00.001-05:00

Another little diddy we produced on the originality and variety of mainstream radio.

TV Terror

2008-09-14T21:26:00.000-05:00

A little something we produced on the wonder and splendor of television.

Choose Carefully

2008-09-14T21:02:00.000-05:00

Is it just me, or have we completely abandoned the beauty and complexity of the English language?

Case in point; the word awesome.

Everywhere I go, everyone I meet, everything I hear on the radio or TV, people use the word awesome to describe something positive. No matter what degree of intensity. That was awesome. You were awesome. Your car looks awesome. This job is awesome. Jay Leno is awesome. This mint toothpick is awesome.

But to quote Merriam Webster:

awesome
adjective
1. astounding, overwhelming, breathtaking.
2. inspiring awe or admiration;
3. intense feeling of elation or extreme wonder

Now I really don’t have a problem with the word when used properly. When it’s not, I gnash my teeth and spit nails.

I was in a restaurant and overheard a young woman say to her friends, This chicken sandwich is awesome!

Really? Your Chipotle Chicken on Honey Wheat actually inspired you? Filled you with extreme elation and wonder? You were overwhelmed?

What she could and should have said was; My chicken sandwich is delicious, or my chicken sandwich is tasty, or my chicken sandwich is scrumptious, or my chicken sandwich is luscious, or my chicken sandwich is delectable, or my chicken sandwich is mouth-watering…hell, I’d even take yummy. But awesome? Really?

We’re getting lazy as a culture. It’s too hard to stay on our toes, squeeze the gray matter between our ears end try and take advantage of the complexity of our wonderful language to actually communicate accurate feelings and ideas.

And for some reason, linguistically, we always dip the bar down to the lowest common denominator; the stupidest person in the room. Today it’s the surfer dude who says, Awesome! Radical, dude! In the eighties it was the valley Girl-speak; Oh my God! Totally tubular! In the seventies, the hippie; Right on, man! And in our haste to fit in and sound like the crowd, hundreds of thousands of rich, distinct and unique words of specific meaning roll around the bowl of our society, ready to be flushed out to sea.

Now you’re probably thinking, Tony, relax. It’s just a word, don’t get so bent out of shape.

But wait…

Let’s return to our young, not-so-eloquent gal with the chicken sandwich (which was awesome, by the way). Let’s say she goes to the bathroom in the restaurant. She sits on the toilet and suddenly, through the window, comes the shining face of God in all his wonder and splendor. She rushes from the john, runs up to her friends and says, I just saw the face of God. It was awesome!

And they think, Really? The face of God is like a chicken sandwich?

To quote everyone’s Grandmother; Mean what you say and say what you mean!

I’m Anthony Wood. I’m angry (annoyed, livid, irate, fuming, cross, heated, furious, incensed, enraged and outraged)

And my thing is in my whatchamacallit.

American Idolatry

2008-09-13T12:19:00.000-05:00

This one goes out to all the dim-witted mouth-breathers who like John McCain because he picked a “hot” candidate. Sarah Palin is now the country’s number one MILF (Mom I’d Like to Fuck). Although I prefer RNIFF (Religious Nutbag I’d Like to Flee From) This fact alone may sway many voters.

Have we sunk this low? Have we been so deluged with moronic TV like American Idol and Dancing With the Stars, that’s it’s now how we’re measuring national politics? We can’t stir up a complicated, subjective political thought in our thick skulls, so we just go after the shallow and superficial, like mutated kitties after a sparkly ball?

Karl Rove and the rest of the Right-Wing cabal had one thing absolutely down pat; Never underestimate the stupidity of the American voter. It got Dub-ya into office twice, and it’s pushing the McCain momentum ever forward. We don’t care about Palin’s politics; Is she hot? Can she dance? Is she a good Mom? How’s her singing voice? Will we vote her off the Island?

So you shit-for-brains, legally retarded pillow humpers would like to fuck Crazy Caribou Barbie? Go for it, dude! Vote for McCain. If he wins, you’ll be fucked all right. Royally fucked up the un-lubed ass, through the pancreas, up the throat and out the mouth. We all will. For generations to come.

I’m Anthony Wood. I’m angry. And I shaved with a dull razor.

Babies, Babies, Babies - Part Two

2008-09-12T10:30:00.002-05:00

Okay, I know my previous baby rant may have led you to assume that I’m one of those “baby haters”, but hear me out. I like children. As a matter of fact, the children that are in my life; nephews, nieces, the sons and daughters of close friends, are all wonderful and unique individuals, and I have nothing but fondness and affection for all of them. Heck, if their guts were on fire, I would piss down their throats. (aww shucks, t’werent nothin’) And upon careful introspection, I realize it’s not babies I have this disdain for…it’s parents!

It’s mind-boggling to see the bizarre metamorphosis normal, intelligent adults go through as soon as that wrinkly shit machine passes through the vaginal gates. You know how in zombie movies, this strange wave of mysterious disease sweeps the land and in a split second healthy, normal corpses suddenly rise up with the singular, obsessive intention of eating your brain? Well, it’s kind of like that.

Gone are the late night discussions with friends on politics, art, Groucho, cheesecake and the classic hilarity of getting hit in the nuts. Instead it’s an endless barrage of the new Daddy and Mommy’s fascination with baby’s weight, breast pumps, lactation cycles, its first crib rollover, its eyes focusing on a grape and the ever increasing fecal weight of the diapers. Eventually the shine comes off the apple. If the new parents have any childless friends, they slowly recede into the vaporous memory fields, never to be seen again. It’s a mutual thing; the baby-less couples get bored with the enormous microscope put on the infant’s every waking flinch, and the Mommies and Daddies push them away fearing, not having any baby experience, their childless friends might do harm to little Kayla. Speaking for myself, I’ve only dropped two babies in my whole life (and one survived). And you can’t count that kid I picked up by sticking my thumb in his soft spot, either. My hands were full of groceries, and I couldn’t very well leave my jug of vodka on the porch, now could I?

And so, Mommy and Daddy circle the wagons and socialize only with other Mommies and Daddies. They feel more secure exchanging scintillating ideas about baby formula, soccer camps and mini-vans. They suddenly realize that their diverse, socially aware life in an urban condo simply won’t do anymore. What about the children?! It’s not safe! And off to the suburbs they go. They pack up the Caravan or the Odyssey or the Sienna or the Sodona and they head off to the safe and secluded confines of some massive drywall monstrosity that’s posing as a home sitting in what used to be, up until a couple of weeks ago, a 200 acre corn field in the middle of nowhere. But they’re safe! (And if they’re really lucky, it’ll be a gated community. You know, to keep out the dark-skinned child rapists.)

They do everything in their misguided power to protect the safety and sanctity of their brood. They build community playgrounds, arrange play dates, keep monitors and security cameras in every room of the house, line the walls of the play rooms with colorful padded, anti-concussion mats and, best of all, to protect the undying souls of the little lieblings, they find religion. I can’t tell you how many people I’ve known; smart, well educated, worldly and sophisticated that have succumbed to the evil siren’s song of the church as soon as they entered parenthood. They went from doing beer bongs, having group sex in hot tubs and reading Henry Miller and Naked Lunch to sitting on their knees in pews reciting the Nicene Creed with the rest of the blathering throng. And all for the souls of the little ones.

And this is the sterile environment wherein the poor children have to try and grow up. Being guided by a bunch of neurotic, scared shitless cornfield dwellers. Fearful lemmings who, if I may say so from an outsider’s viewpoint, don’t know the first thing about raising genuinely healthy children.

Case in point; the over-diagnosing and prescribing of behavioral drugs for kids. This really pisses me off. Anytime a child suddenly acts outside of the norm, and maybe makes life a little messy for the Norman Rockwells of the gated communities, they’re suddenly hauled off to the doctor and diagnosed with ADD or AD HD or DHDDD or they’re down with OPP. Mommy and Daddy can’t handle junior’s outbursts, and shoving pills down his throat is way easier than trying to get at the root of the problem. Never mind how it’s going affect him in the long run. We need harmony now!

Did you know that over 75% of the behavioral stimulants prescribed for kids (Ritalin, Metadate, Methylin, Dextroamphetamine, etc.) manufactured in the world, are given to American boys?!

What does that tell you; that we have a massive behavioral problem in today’s male children? I doubt it. I think it’s more the fact that our boys, being boys, are throwing a Y-chromosomed monkey wrench into Mommy’s and Daddy’s perception of what they thought family life would be.

Break it down; girls, biologically, are caring and thoughtful and nurturing (they’re also psychologically cruel and manipulative, but that’s for another rant). It comes from the days when the women were the child raisers, the gatherers, the matriarchs.

Boys, on the other hand, are physical beasts. They run, they bounce, they rage, they stomp. It comes from a time when the men’s role was to protect the family. To fight off wolves and cougars and other scary things that go bump in the jungle night. They were the hunters. That’s why boys are always making weapons out of stuff. Whatever they can get their hands on; sticks, broom handles, toasters, everything becomes a weapon. Heck, I’ve seen a kid actually chew a baloney sandwich into the shape of a gun and start shooting it at his little brother. It’s in our nature.

But, unfortunately, the nature of boys is too messy. It breaks up the clean, pristine lifestyle the Mommy’s and Daddy’s are trying to orchestrate. After all, they have elaborate schedules for soccer and ballet and music lessons and play dates. A place for everything and everything in its place. And loud, active, energetic boys jumping on the furniture and screaming like Mohicans disrupts the flow. Bring on the kiddie- narcotics.

My Mother and Father raised five boys, of which I am the middle one. A day didn’t go by where we weren’t bloodied, battered and bruised. It got to the point where they simply opened the door in the morning and let us run rampant around the neighborhood all day. We ran and fought and climbed trees and hit each other with sticks and basically exhausted ourselves with mindless physical activity. In the evening Mom and Dad opened the door and got us back into the house for dinner. We didn’t have benzphetamine or methamphetamine. Heck, the closest we got to behavioral stimulants was Count Chocula. I won’t say our boyish deeds didn’t have my parents, especially my Mom, at the end of their emotional rope on certain days. We were wild, sometimes. We were messy. We broke things. But they took it all in good stride. They let us be boys. And all of us, to a man, have grown to become responsible, well adjusted, hard working, loving adults. And not despite of our messy behavior, but because of it.

My other peeve is how the whole world is being altered, genericized and white breaded for the sake of the fucking children. Back in the day, when I needed milk or coffee, I’d trundle off to the market, squeeze in between the carts in the narrow aisles and gather my goods. Now, we build huge mega-grocery stores where you could land a fucking Lear Jet in the frozen food aisle. And along come these ghastly, ten foot wide, Fischer Price designed plastic carts shaped like race cars and fire engines where the kiddies get to pretend they’re driving. So I still have to squeeze in between these mutated Disney golf carts just to get a bag of French Roast. But I know I’m being selfish. Dear God in Heaven, we wouldn’t want our children to get bored in a grocery store, now would we? I’ve got an idea, why don’t we install DVD players into the carts so they can watch Finding Nemo for the four millionth time? We have them everywhere else. Or better yet, a Ferris wheel or playground next to the produce section so the kids can get face painted and have balloon hats made by a clown while Mommy tries to get the best price on a rump roast.

We have child-proof caps and “Baby On Board” signs and V-Chips and Orange Alerts and baby sunscreen. Jesus H., a man can’t even get a good look at Janet Jackson’s nipple-slip during the Super Bowl without a public parental uproar! What’s America coming to?!

I realize raising a family is not easy. I hear it from parents all the time; "It's so difficult having kids. You have no idea how hard it is!" Well you get no sympathy from me. These aren't government issued children. They weren't forced upon you at gunpoint because your name came up in some random baby lottery. They're your choice, whether you planned them or not. And they're your responsibility. I don't go out and buy a new car and then complain how hard it is to keep up and fill with gas. I knew the rules going in.

As for It takes a village to raise a child...screw that. Hillary Clinton should have been gagged for making such a statement. Granted, it does take a support network of family and friends to make sure a child grows up right and walks the straight and narrow. But it seems "the village" is always responsible after the fact. Young couples never come to the village and say, "Hey, we're thinking about having a kid. Want to help us out?" Then we could say "Yeah, sounds great. I'm in." or "Hmmm, maybe you guys should hold off a year or two till you save some money." But no, the village is responsible no matter who's having the baby or under what circumstances.

Many readers with children will say, “Well, how can you have a perspective on the subject, you don’t have kids. You don’t know what it’s like to be a parent.” But I think the reverse is true. I have a perspective on this because I’m childless. I don’t know what it’s like to be a parent? Most of you don’t know what it’s like not to. To have a life of choice. To be able to explore things deeply and intellectually without having to limit or curb yourself. To reach outside of a world consisting of strollers and pre-school and actually live in a world with adults. Because I’m childless my world is wide open, free to anything I might want to explore. Because you have children, your world is safe and closed and small.

And along with your world goes your mind.

I’m Anthony Wood. I’m angry. And my house smells like fried fish.

Just Like Us

2008-09-08T21:17:00.000-05:00

Is it just me, or has half of America’s voting spectrum completely lost its damn mind?

Back in the day, when bread was a nickel and gas flowed out of water fountains free to any kid with knickers and a bucket, this country took pride in electing the most qualified, most experienced, most intelligent people to hold the highest offices in the country.

Oh, how the mighty land has fallen.

According to a recent psychological study that examined the qualities of so-called “great presidents” throughout history, they found that the best candidates tended to have exceptional mental capacity and the ability to absorb enormous amounts of information, facts and figures. Great presidents tended to be open minded. They were attentive to their emotions. They were willing to question traditional values and try new ways of doing things. But, when it came to faith and morals, they tended to rely on leadership from church and religious figures on these matters, rather than bring them into the civic dialog.

Great presidents of the past were more imaginative and more interested in art and beauty than the less successful presidents. They were "tender minded," with great concern for the less fortunate.

Sound like anyone we’ve elected lately? Well, not in the last eight years, anyway.

The great president definition fit the likes of Washington, Jefferson, Madison and Lincoln (although he would never get elected today. “Abraham. Too Jewish.”)

But today’s “informed” electorate has a different, and definitely lower standard when it comes to picking the Prez. Many of the folks who voted George W. Bush in office…twice (it actually hurt my back to type that) went by the notion that Bush was…

A man like us. A simple guy. An everyday Joe. Somebody I’d want to sit down and have a beer with. Somebody like me.

Somebody like you? But you’re an idiot! I don’t mean that to be overly-insulting, because I’m an idiot, too! We’re all, most of us, idiots when it comes to things like advanced economics, foreign relations, taxation and the environment. That’s why we try to set the highest standard possible when it comes to the character and intelligence of our candidates. And to tell you the God’s-honest truth Bubba-Lee, I want the smartest person in the room. I want the Rhodes Scholar, the person who speaks seven different languages and graduated Harvard cum laude. I want a great communicator who can carry on a conversation with anyone from farmers to heads of state. I want that candidate. I don’t want some beer drinking good ol’ boy who reads at a sixth grade level, votes every week on American Idol and whose idea of high humor is lighting his own farts.

Is this what we’ve come to? Are we so dumbed down and insecure that we’re threatened by anyone who has the least modicum of intelligence and isn’t afraid to show it? I think we are. And the Right Wing has played us like a fucking Stradivarious.

Take for example the word “elite.” A harmless word co-opted by the Right to mean: Upper crust. Stuck up. Snobs. The Intelligencia. People who think they’re better than you.

Left-Wing Elitists.

But isn’t “elite” a positive term? If we have a huge brain tumor, don’t we want an “elite” team of doctors to zap it out? When we need to invade a hostile nation and take out it’s leader, don’t we always send in an “elite” fighting force like the Green Berets or the Navy S.E.A.L.S? Isn't the "elite" the top, the A-Team, the best we have to offer? Is “elite” a bi-polar word? Can it mean what you want it to mean whenever you want it to?

Convenient.

So that’s how we got Dull Witted, War-Monger George Dub-Ya in for eight seemingly endless years. He wasn’t one of those Left-Wing “elitists” who were all so smart and educated and knew important things and flew around the world and used them big words with more than two syllables. He was a regular guy. The kind of guy you want to have a beer with. A guy just like us…an idiot.

And now they’re trying the same tactic again. Last week, with much confetti and fanfare, they rolled out Sarah Palin as the new Vice Presidential candidate for the Republican Party. A nobody. A woman with almost two years experience as Governor of Alaska, the least populated state in America, and as Mayor of Wasilla, the state’s second largest city (population 9000)

???

That’s it? It’s a joke, right? Wrong. And did the dull-witted, under-informed voters care that this woman has less experience than a Senate page, has proposed the banning of books from libraries, laws against gay marriage, cut funding from housing for unwed mothers and is so Bat-Shit Religious she actually got in front of people to say that the war in Iraq was “God’s war”? Did they care that, when approached for the position, she really and truly asked what it was that the Vice President actually did? No…no they did not.

They all just love the fact that she’s (here we go again) just like us. She’s a hockey mom. She has five kids (that she constantly hauls out in front of the cameras, only to say “stop focusing on my family” when they get too close). She’s a regular gal with small town values and a great head on her shoulders.

So this qualifies her to be sitting in the second most powerful seat in the world? To be one, fairly certain heart attack away from the Presidency? Is that fact scaring anyone else into severe diarrhea? It should, ‘cause her Uber-Mom dog and pony show has them dead even in the polls.

Barack Obama…you know, the Democratic elitist? The smug, smart guy? His VP nominee was Joe Biden. Experience?

JD, Syracuse University College of Law, 1968 BA,

History/Political Science, University of Delaware, 1965.

Adjunct Professor, Widener University School of Law, 1991-present 

Attorney, Private Practice, Wilmington, Delaware, 1968-1972.

Candidate, United States President, 2008 

Senator, United States Senator, 1973-present 

Council member, New Castle County Council, 1970-1972.

Vice Chairman, North Atlantic Treaty Organization Parliamentary Assembly.

Subcommittee on Antitrust, Competition Policy and Consumer Rights - Member 

Foreign Relations - Chair

Judiciary - Member 

Subcommittee on Crime & Drugs - Chair 

Subcommittee on East Asian & Pacific Affairs - Member 

Subcommittee on European Affairs - Member 

Subcommittee on Human Rights and the Law - Member 

Subcommittee on Immigration, Border Security and Refugees - Member 

Subcommittee on International Development and Foreign Assistance, Economic Affairs and International Environmental Protection - Member 

Subcommittee on International Organizations and Operations, Democracy and Human Rights - Member 

Subcommittee on Near Eastern and South and Central Asian Affairs - Member 

Subcommittee on Terrorism, Technology and Homeland Security - Member 

Subcommittee on Western Hemisphere, Peace Corps and Narcotics Affairs – Member

God, what an elitist know-it-all.

So do the math, folks. Would you rather have someone with the insight, seasoning and experience to handle the job of Vice President? Or do you want a radical religious hockey mom with small town values?

I mean, she might not know a Shiite from a Sunni, but her Apple Brown Betty is a hit at the church book burnings.

I’m Anthony Wood. I’m angry. And my armpits smell like beef soup.

Horror Movie Pitch

2008-09-07T21:44:00.000-05:00

Is it just me, or does Dick Cheney look like somebody who goes out every now and again and kills homeless people? You know, just to scratch that itch?

I can see him, every third Wednesday of the month. He puts on a dark trench coat and a fedora and slinks out into the D.C. night.

Out of the shadows of an alley he approaches a down and out fellow named “Dave” (his name is changed to protect the innocent).

“Hey man, got some spare change for some coffee?” Dave innocently inquires.

“Sure, I got your spare change right HERE!”

As quick as a wink from the angel of death Cheney pulls the piano wire from the wristband of his watch and wraps it fast around Dave’s neck. Dave squirms, he writhes, he tries to scream, but the blood from the open laceration fills his voicebox and all that comes out is a warm, scarlet gurgle. Cheney pulls the hapless man close and whispers in his ear, “How’s this for change? You like change? You gonna vote for change, asshole?”

Dave breathes his last.

Dick arrives home. His wife Lynne sits in the den, knitting or making cookies or persecuting gays or some other Republican wife thing.

“How was your walk, dear?”

“Good.” He replies. “Yeah…yeah, real good.”

The front of his slacks are stained with semen.

“Step in a puddle again, Dick?”

“Oh, yeah! Yeah…another puddle. Really raining out there.”

He slinks upstairs to his room, opens a locked bureau drawer with a key and takes out an ornate wooden box. In the box are tiny bits of homeless man flesh, all put into small Ziplock bags and sorted chronologically. He removes the morsel of Homeless Dave tissue from his pocket, licks off the excess blood, puts it in it’s own secure plastic bag, and sets it at the front of the row marked “June”.

Yeah, I know it’s a far-fetched story…but then I watch him on the news, and I’m not so sure.

I’m Anthony Wood. I’m angry. And I’ve got oatmeal in my shoes.

Babies, Babies, Babies - Part One

2008-09-07T21:20:00.000-05:00

Is it just me, or has the world suddenly become over-run with strollers? Now don’t get me wrong, even though I am a childless by choice individual, I can relate to the overwhelming feelings of warmth and contentment that a joyful child can bring into your—fuck it, no I can’t. Who am I kidding?

What is wrong with this culture that makes it so obsessed with procreation? Human beings have such great potential in art, engineering, mathematics, agriculture and hundreds of other endeavors, but no one, it seems, feels fully satisfied till they hook up with someone who can stand the sight of them, do the unprotected nasty and shove the wailing freight train through the doughnut hole nine months later. From then on it’s a rewarding, whirlwind existence of whining, crying, pissing, shitting and sleep deprivation. What once was a high flying life of promise and fulfillment is suddenly grounded, it’s wings clipped and shoved into a small jail cell where it subsists on a diet of diapers, breast pumps, diaper bags, pre-chewed baby food, diaper services and diaper rash. And did I mention diapers?

There’s nothing more relieving than seeing the face of a new father after his first month of infant bliss; that exhausted, desperate, far away look, the bags under the eyes, the disheveled appearance, the unwashed hair, that expression that says “Holy Sainted Jesus on dry white toast, what did I get myself into?” Nothing makes me feel like I’ve dodged a bullet more.

But the saddest of all participants in this infantile carnival are the teen parents. You see them every day; she, the plump, nose-pierced mommy with the hip-hugger jeans and the lower back tattoo. He, with the Jim Morrison T-shirt, knit hat, hip-hop bling necklaces and a diaper bag over his shoulder. Together they look like dazed Hiroshima victims pushing the plastic stroller in which sits little Kayla or Brelee or Cody or whatever white trash, trailer park, soap opera name they’ve deemed to bestow on the snot-nosed little urchin. Talk about lost potential. Three victims; she had nothing else in her life but a part time job at a candle store and a used Ford Focus. But all her friends were having babies, and they seemed so cute and cuddly and helpless and (here’s the one that makes me want to vomit) they smell so good. They smell good? Hey, I like the smell of Cotton Candy at the fair, but that doesn’t mean I want to carry it around twenty-four hours a day and breast feed it.

And that hapless dude. He didn’t want a family. He didn’t have hopeful visions of daddy-hood in his future. He just wanted to party with his friends, dream about buying a new car and maybe get a little tail on a Saturday night. He was drunk, he was horny and she was every seventeen year old boys dream; a girl who says “yes.” One moment of clarity, one moment of ignoring your over-eager erection, one moment to drop a few quarters into a gas station condom machine and suddenly, life as he knows it doesn’t come to a screeching halt. But it’s always clearer in the rearview mirror.

And that poor baby. Oh, I know what you’re going to say, “Every child has the potential to be something special. If they work hard and apply themselves and follow their dreams, they could even be president.” Well…not really. I mean, let’s face it, we are all benefactors/victims of where we come from. Realistically, who has a better chance of becoming president; the upper middle class child from an emotionally and financially secure family with well meaning and well educated parents? Or the child of a sixteen year old, jobless, drop-out single mom who feeds her baby Ding-Dongs and Mountain Dew and pawns the baby off on her grandmother so she can go out on “dates” with the baby’s father; a part time hip-hop DJ and pot dealer named Daz Freek? Do the math, it ain’t rocket science.

The Pro-Life zealots are fond of saying “It’s a child, not a choice.” Well, actually, it’s both. Any child worth taking up space on this blue marble should be chosen carefully. Prospective Mommies and Daddies should plan carefully, look each other in the eye and decide that the unprotected sex they are about to partake in is responsibly chosen in order to bring life into the world. Till then, if you’re just lighting some candles, drinking some Merlot and gettin’ your freak on, then wrap it, stuff it, jelly it, stick it in a latex straight jacket and take the god damned pill, for Christ’s sake! I realize the “oopsie” factor to having babies probably applies to about three-quarters of the population (including my parents), but let’s get real. And let’s give our young people a chance to live their lives, make some smaller mistakes, learn, love and have children when it’s the proper time. A little sex education goes a long way. Along with safe, free birth control.

Family folks like to quote the Bible as saying “Be fruitful and multiply.” But I think that phrase got altered in translation. It should really read “Be fruitful (COMMA) and multiply.” Or better yet, “Be fruitful then multiply.” Maybe being fruitful doesn’t mean having the babies. Maybe it means making your life fruitful. Establish yourself, get a career, have some experience, discover true love, make some money then have a baby. Even birds build a nest and have some food to regurgitate before they lay eggs.

The fucking sparrows are practicing planned parenthood. Why can’t we?

I’m Anthony Wood. I’m angry. And I’m not wearing any pants.