Donna Lethal

She was the cool kinda cat that always landed on her feet. She clawed cliches, murdered menstruating memories and did diabolical deeds for demented dudes with deadpan deliveries. There were people after her. There were always people after her. These gentleman however, were of the particularly brutish brand.

She'd stolen from them. She took the bag of money, but she didn't body-bag the old broad they paid her to punish. She sat in the diner smoking her cigarette and stalking the senior waitress. The target looked worn, leathery, lost and lame. Donna couldn't figure out why anyone would pay so much to have this barely breathing, walking corpse put on ice. She wasn't about to find out either. She covered her harsh eyes with her smokey shades, walked out and hit the road.

She never said why she didn't waste that woman. Maybe she figured old age would finish the job. Perhaps the coffee was just too good. She might even have reminded Donna of Momma Lethal. The reason isn't important. Donna had to go, go, go. Donna couldn't afford a day off. Unfortunately this dame had a dreadful sense of direction. She zigged when she should have zagged. She was headed for Mexico but got pinched in Minnesota. She got picked up on July 10th, 1967 and was unaccounted for on the 11th. Did they take her? Did she disappear?

We'll probably never know. But, if you ever consume a cup of coffee in a dingy diner in the desert and come across a cold stare from a wily old waitress make sure you're kind and or cordial. It might just be Donna Lethal herself, dying to ply her prior trade one last time on a couple of unsuspecting, obnoxious patrons that had no idea who they were talking to.
___________

Image taken from Lethal Dose. 

Tweet

I Know What You Smelled Last Summer...

Last summer I was driving over to a friend's house late one night. I was coming up on a stop sign when all of a sudden a skunk ran out from behind some pick-up truck and made a mad dash for the bottom of my front tire. I punched the gas, blew the stop sign and drove the ten blocks I needed to go to get to my friends house. Now this is my absolute best friend in the world and he proved that to me that very night. I called him and told him to come outside and tell me how bad I smelled. You know what? True friend that he is, came out and told me I didn't smell bad and not to worry about it. We went into his garage, worked on a car and talked shit for a while.

After an hour or so I had to run to my car for something or another and it smelled pretty ripe. That's when it hit me (literally) that I needed to get that hunk of junk home without getting the stink stuck to me for a month. I decided to walk to the liquor store and get a cigar so cheap that even the most desperate of potheads wouldn't smoke free weed out of it. For some reason I thought if I got cigar smoke all over me that it would somehow cancel out all the skunk stink like some sort of cancerous force field. I think I was able to smoke down about a third of it and I made sure to blow it all over my clothes so all parts were protected.

I told myself that I only needed to drive 15 blocks and that if I blew every stop sign I could get home in less than 5 minutes. I got my car in the garage, left the windows open and decided that if I hit it with febreeze everyday for the next month that eventually I'd be able to drive my car again.

Now I don't know if any of you have ever been paranoid about how you smell before, but it's a pretty awful feeling. I definitely didn't want to bring any of that stink into my apartment. I figured the most prudent thing to do would be to strip off all my clothes, throw them in the trash and hope I didn't get arrested before I got to the safety of my apartment. It was 2 AM and I'd already had the night from hell. I said fuck it and stripped down to my birthday suit, threw my clothes in the alley, grabbed my junk and booked to my second floor apartment. I ran to the shower and washed myself until the hot water completely ran out. I lathered myself with an entire bottle of conditioner because I figured that was probably the best smelling thing I had in my house. After that I said fuck it and went to bed.

I woke up to the phone ringing. It was my friend. He said I needed to come take care of my new kid. I got annoyed and thought he was just fucking with me. He said "for real, there's a baby skunk here you need to do something with it. You killed it's mom." I called bullshit and he sent me this:

Really? What the fucking fuck?

That little baby skunk must of followed the scent trail of his dead mother all the way to my friend's house. They asked me what I wanted to do with it. How the hell do you answer a question like that? I answered honestly, I'll call animal control if you want. It's not like they're going to arrest me for murdering a skunk.

Somehow I'm best friends with the only Puerto Rican in Chicago with a hillbilly girlfriend. She started bawling and said she wanted to keep the thing! Of course I'm the bad guy, but I'm sorry, it's a skunk. Well, I guess it was cold hearted. I mean, that thing is pretty damn adorable. I washed my hands of the whole thing and said you're on your own. I looked at the skunk and gave an Uma Thurman like speech. Something like, "if you grow up and want to avenge your mother, I'll understand".

Anyway, she kept it for a few days but then I guess she took it to bed with her and ended up rolling onto it in her sleep and killing it. I have my suspicions that my buddy strangled it, but I'll keep that to myself.

Why am I bringing this up? Because last night I took the trash out and there was a skunk staring straight at me. Maybe that stinky little guy didn't die... maybe he wanted revenge. I didn't stick around to find out. I dropped the trash right there and ran as fast as I could. Knocked my head pretty good on the gate in the process. Despite writing this while possibly concussed, I assure you this story is completely real. I'll be afraid of skunks for the rest of my life.

Tweet

That Girl Is...

She took it all...

She took my pride, my self-respect and only gave me gonorrhea.

She stole my love, my life and my ThunderCats collectibles. She ripped them out of the packaging and stomped all over them, just like she stomped all over my heart.

She got the house and the kids. I'm f****** homeless man! I can't even live in my car cause the b**** took that too! Even if I found a cardboard box to live in her lawyers would be out there with a pair of scissors cutting that s*** in half!

Man she emptied my bank account and put a freeze on my credit cards. She even picked all the quarters out of my change bucket!

She f***** my boss, she f***** my brother, she f***** my sister. Hell she probably f***** you! She f***** everyone I know except for me! She'd just laugh and throw me a raggedy old copy of BBW Monthly.

Not only that, she got my HDTV and my surround sound! You ever try to watch Avatar in RegularD? Man that s*** sucks!

She even took all my friends! I can't even go on facebook anymore. I've got 3 friends man! 3 friends! And one is my momma! It's OK though! I'm gonna get on twitter and show that b****. I'm gonna get #shetookmy trending and show her. Just you watch. They'll give me a show with Spock and everything.

I can't even listen to music anymore, man. She took my iPod. I had all my s*** on there! I had to break out my old tapes. You know how hard it is to pick up chics when you're rocking a boom box in 2011? I don't care what anyone says though, 90's music is deep! I just wish I would have listened when Bell Biv DeVoe told me to "never trust a big butt and a smile"! I Should have listened man, should have listened.

No, I didn't just get divorced or get out of a bad relationship. A friend of mine's divorce went through this week and he was complaining about it. I didn't have the heart to make fun of him to his face, so I'll just email him this later. Oh, feel free to add to it!
____________

Image taken from: http://www.amazon.com/Poison-Bell-Biv-Devoe/dp/B000002O6V

Tweet

King Richard II & Me

Now that Rahm Emmanuel will officially become Chicago's next mayor it's finally starting to sink in that for the first time since I was 7 years old that someone other than Richard M. Daley will be mayor of Chicago. For as long as I can remember he's been mayor of my city, he's almost a strangely paternal figure. My parents always watched the six o'clock news when I was a kid and it seemed like he was turning red and yelling at someone four out of five nights a week. He's kind of like that angry uncle that's always yelling about how stupid everyone in the media and in politics is.

As a self-proclaimed progressive I probably shouldn't like him as much as I do. Corruption has never been hard to find at City Hall and that hasn't really changed under Daley's watch. There has been plenty of scandal, investigations, allegations and even convictions, but none of them ever got back to him officially. He's sort of like a mob boss in that way. Everyone that works for him has been tainted but he's been untouchable.

I think he gets a pass on the corruption because he's gotten things done. I might not like the people that have worked for him but for the most part I've liked his policies. He tore down the infamous Cabrini Green and Robert Taylor Homes. And even though it came in way over budget, Millennium Park is still one of the coolest open spaces I've ever been to. He also got people to actually invest in the city again, which wasn't happening before he got elected. In the middle of the night (and with no one's approval) he destroyed Meigs Field. As a result we'll eventually have yet another beautiful lakefront park instead of somewhere for corporate jets to land.

Most importantly though, we're not Detroit.

We're not Cleveland, we're not St. Louis and we're not Pittsburgh. We're the only Midwestern city to come out of the rust belt swinging and for his part in ensuring that Chicago will be a dynamic city for years to come I thank him.

Image taken from here: http://tammybruce.com/2010/05/chicagos-mayor-daley-threatens-to-shoot-a-reporter.html

Tweet

A Re-imagined World

Democracy Index according to the EIU. Click the picture for source.

At some point after fire started reigning down from the sky on patriots marching for freedom in Libya, it became readily apparent that the United States and Europe haven't adjusted to the new world order. The foreign policies of nations like the United States, Britain, France, and Germany are still based on reactions to the fall of European colonialism and the Cold War. The western powers (and it's people) tend to have this sort of hubris that only "we" can handle democracy.

While this belief is tinged with racist overtones it is also a reflection of how long it took us to achieve a working form of democracy. People tend to forget that although the American Revolution started in 1776, not everyone was allowed to vote until 1964. It's also easy to forget that only 65 years ago Western Europe nearly destroyed itself before it found it's path to freedom. People standing in line to sign up for Social Security benefits today were born into a time where freedom and democracy were anything but certain. In a single lifetime, Japan and Germany went from being two of the most militaristic societies in human history to peaceful nations in which the idea of authoritarian rule seems unfathomable.

Despite the incredibly rapid growth of democracy in the "developed" world, the leaders of the west have only stood on the side of the people when it was economically beneficial for them to do so. We had no problem with tyranny in Iran and Iraq until the oil stopped flowing. We had no qualms about funding military coups in South America, that brutally murdered thousands, to keep out the Soviets and give us cheap fruit. Why are we so hesitant to embrace the ideals of our founding fathers that are manifesting themselves in the rest of the world as we speak? What happened to that good old American optimism? Are we just worried about the skeletons in our closet coming back to haunt us?

The old (false) moral justification for colonialism was that these countries need to be kept in check with a strong hand because they aren't capable of ruling themselves. Whenever I turn on the news I still hear these sentiments. "Sure Mubarak was bad, but what if the next guy is worse?" They all point to the Iranian Revolution of 1979 as the prime example for being cautious about supporting revolution. People seem to think that Iran turned so anti-west just because of where the country is located, or that they just don't understand freedom. The people of Iran turned against us because we stood on the side of their oppressor. We can't side with bad people and then expect good people to side with us. When we refuse to side with the people looking to overthrow their dictator the results will end up like they did in Iran.

The march towards democracy, universal human rights and peace is not a pipe dream, it is inevitable. In 1893, New Zealand became the first country to allow all adult citizens to vote. In less than 120 years since, about half of the world's population (according to here) has at least some say in how they are governed. Authoritarian rule is quickly becoming a thing of the past and we need to start planning for it. Only a lifetime ago, peace in Europe seemed as unbelievable as peace in the Middle East seems today. If we stand on the right side of history, as we did then, there is no reason to believe that we can't make as much progress in our lifetimes. It's not a matter of if we all become free, it's a matter of when.

Tweet

(Very Brief) ChrisNotes

Nothing of note today. Mostly just wanted to try this blogger app on my phone cause I'm a dork like that. Oh, Derrick Rose all-star game mvp, calling it now.

Tweet

The Contented Atheist: On Church

I grew up in the Lutheran church. I had to go to Sunday School every week from as far back as I can remember. At the tender age of five my mother would dress me up in my little blue blazer complete with red snap-on tie and send me off to church with my dad. My mom was ironically still an atheist at the time. She's very active in the church now. Sort of funny the way we switched places over the years, but that's another story.

I wonder what it's like sending your child to church to learn a bunch of fairy tales you don't even believe in. I guess it can't be much different than having them leave out a glass of milk and a plate of cookies for Santa. Strangely enough, if my seed ever infects some poor woman, I think I would probably take my kid to church too. I know that makes me a bit of a hypocrite but remember I'm The Contented Atheist. Religion doesn't bother me. Holy water doesn't boil if I dip my finger in it (I've tried).

Some would have you believe that religion is either inherently good or inherently evil, they are wrong. Yes, religion gave us the Inquisition and pedophile priests, but it also gave us homeless shelters and Martin Luther King. What people tend to forget is that first and foremost church and religion are social institutions. They're a place for people to socialize, listen to a lecture (sermon), maybe raise a little money for charity, and yes, in some cases, a place to teach your kid to hate gays.

My parents were very practical people so they selected a very practical church. Some people's parents hate gays so they go to churches that teach you how to hate gays. Some people hate their kids so they take them to a Catholic church. The Bible really has nothing to do with what any particular church is going to preach. It's the people that attend that church that make that determination. The Bible is a vague enough book that you can use it to argue just about any side, of any issue, with just a little research.

Whenever I go visit my parents, I inevitably get an update on all the drama behind the scenes at church. My mom vents while I nod my head and say things like "wow, she really said that?" and "jeez, what is this high school?", which always elicits roaring laughter from Dad. I think he finds it so funny because it's sort of true. When you get a bunch of people together there is going to be drama. Sometimes they'll end up doing something good, sometimes they'll do bad, and sometimes they'll stand around chatting while they drink coffee. People are more complicated than they're given credit for and their social institutions reflect this, religious or secular.
_______

For previous editions of The Contented Atheist click here.

Image taken from here: http://www.nationalcenter.org/2007_04_01_BlogArchive.html

Tweet

Art and Impossible Definitions

The 'What is Art?' debate is as old and cliched as it is fruitless. For that reason I've avoided it so far on this blog. After watching the incredible documentary Exit Through the Gift Shop from famed street artist Banksy I really can't help myself. If you haven't seen it you really should. Not only does it raise interesting questions about the nature of art, but it's funny as all hell. If you have Netflix you can stream it right now (click here to add it to your queue). If you rent movies the old fashioned way go head over to your local video store and hope they have this one in. Go watch it and come back. Don't worry, I'll wait.

Pretty good, huh?

No spoilers here, but how about that Mr. Brainwash? What a character! He really makes you wonder what the hell art is. Is it art if you just slap a Marilyn Monroe wig on Michael Jackson in  photoshop? I tend to lean towards a more inclusive definition of what art is. I feel that anyone is capable of creating art if they work at it. Intuitively though it seems that the creation of art should be difficult; that it should be accompanied by a certain amount of suffering. The archetype of the starving artist is just so ingrained in my mind that it feels wrong for someone to pass something off as art that any graphic designer could pull off in 20 minutes. 

To be an artist you have to create something, don't you? Mr. Brainwash only gave his ideas to designers, he didn't actually create them. If I come up with an idea for a brilliant painting and have someone else paint it, am I the artist and my employee merely a tradesmen? Or am I merely the muse in that situation? 

Perhaps art is just something that is pleasing to the eye. You know, like a tomato soup can, or a painting of a tomato soup can. Then again you could just photograph the Grand Canyon and call it art then, couldn't you? Even though you aren't creating but merely recording, it would still be considered art, right? Is a photograph of art, art? Is a photograph of someone taking a photograph of art, art because it's making a statement about this very problem? I'm not sure, but it kind of sounds like art. 

This is why I've never written a 'What is Art?' blog. It didn't come to anything, yet it was still fun to try. You have any ideas? A million bucks to whoever can adequately define art.

Tweet

Bernard Pivot Blogfesty Goodness

Bernard Pivot: French interviewer guy who started asking everyone on his show a standard ten questions.

James Lipton: Asked the same questions here in the U.S. on Inside the Actors Studio.

Nicole Ducleroir: A fellow blogger holding a blogfest in which everyone answers those ten questions. You can find her blog by clicking here. Once there you can check out all the other entries.

Christopher Allen: Completely forgot about this blogfest until today and is quite happy to have been reminded because he had no ideas for a blog today and that was annoying him.

1. What is your favorite word?

• Decadence. I have a real passion for pleasure. Plus I like the way the word bounces around your tongue.

2.  What is your least favorite word? 

• Actually. Although you probably wouldn't be able to tell because I actually use it way too much.

3. What turns you on creatively, spiritually, or emotionally? 

• Emotion. I'm a pretty laid back person and I rarely outwardly exhibit much emotion. I can at times come across as apathetic and I think that's why I'm so inspired by it when I see an outpouring of pure emotion from someone else.

 4. What turns you off?

• Authority. I'm not really a rebel or anything. I just don't respond to being told what to do, at all.

 5. What is your favorite curse word? 

• Fuck. It's just so fucking versatile. It's also one of my favorite activities.

 6. What sound or noise do you love?

• Breakfast Cooking. There is no more pleasant sound then waking up to the sound (and smell) of bacon frying.

7. What sound or noise do you hate?

• Ice Chewing. I absolutely cannot stand it when people chew on ice. It drives me insane for some reason.

8. What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?

• Guy on the Couch. I'm pretty good at schmoozing and bullshitting. I think I could have been pretty good at mooching. Of course, those traits would also make me a good Congressman. 

 9. What profession would you not like to attempt? 

• Farming. I'm a city guy through and through. A rural setting would make me insane. Plus, I think animals are a bit overrated.

 10. If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the pearly gates?

• I'll forgive you for being an atheist if you can forgive me for allowing George W. Bush to be unleashed on the world.

Tweet

Chronicles of Chicago: Stolen Relics

Tribune Tower

Old school newspaper magnates are a strange breed. Ever seen Citizen Kane? Yea, that movie wasn't too far from the truth. Col. Robert McCormick was the man in charge of Chicago's largest newspaper, the Chicago Tribune. If there has ever been an American aristocracy McCormick would have been one of it's prominent members in his day. He was born into money and was hellbent on getting a whole lot more of it. In 1922 he held a $100,000 design competition that garnered entries from around the world and eventually led to the construction of the Chicago landmark Tribune Tower.

While it's a wonderful building and really can only be appreciated correctly from Michigan Ave. in person, let's be honest, it's no Parthenon. Col. McCormick knew this. So what do you do if you can't build the Parthenon? Well, you can steal it. That's exactly what Col. McCormick did. He told his reporters stationed around the world to "acquire" pieces of the greatest sites in the world and they were embedded into the side of the Tribune Tower for all to see.

There are pieces from the Great Wall of China, Pearl Harbor, the White House, the Colosseum in Rome, the Cathedral of Notre Dame, The Berlin Wall, metal from the World Trade Centers, the Forbidden City in China, Abraham Lincoln's original tomb, the Taj Majal, the Alamo, Saint Peter's Basilica, the Pyramids of Giza, the Palace of Westminster in London, the Reichschancellery in Berlin, Westminster Abbey, Edinburgh Castle in Scotland, L'Arc de Triomphe in Paris, and even a piece of the Moon.

While the story goes that they were all acquired by 'honorable' means common sense tells us otherwise. Sure, most of them were probably obtained legally. But you can't just buy a piece of the Taj Majal in the gift shop if you know what I mean.

The Moon Rock had to be encased in glass. It's still the property of NASA.

For previous Chronicles of Chicago click here.
________

Click images for image sources.

List of rocks taken from: http://www.chicagoarchitecture.info/Building/376/Tribune-Tower.php

Tweet

Valentine's Day for a Man

If you're in a relationship, the holiday can get a a bit expensive. But, if she's the kind of girl that has dirty thoughts run through her mind every time she has a few glasses of wine it can definitely be worth it.

If you're single, it's just another Monday except there are red and pink cupcakes in the break room. If you play your cards right you might even have a shot with the chic whose been talking about how much of a sham Valentine's Day is. Provided she's the kind of girl that has dirty thoughts run through her mind every time she has a few glasses of the wine.

If men were in charge of this holiday, cupid wouldn't be a baby shooting arrows. He'd be a waiter who pours very liberally.

Image taken from here: http://www.nycdailydeals.com/2009/02/love-free-wine.html

Tweet

ChrisNotes 2/13

Announcements:  

Alcohol and political satire don't mix. Last night, in honor of the new found freedom of the Egyptian people I tried to get people to dance like an Egyptian. I then got annoyed when no one joined in or got the reference. Then I was told that the dance was actually "Walk like an Egyptian". That's when I realized I'm just a drunken Bangle-ing idiot.

Go Look at these Blogs!

Kev D. at Highway 10 Revisited. It's hard to do humor consistently but this guy is always funny. Go check his page out, I always leave laughing.

Mandy at 16 House. I had no idea that I had any interest in interior design until I came across her blog. I'm either pregnant and nesting or she just has really good taste when it comes to interior spaces. I also found out how obsessed I am with cool bookshelves because of her tasteful blog.

Random Tweet of the Week from @ntsfrmundergrnd : 

Comment of the Week:

Kage from Sex, Sequins + Sociopaths made me chuckle with this comment on my post about my issue of Rolling Stone from 1976:

argh, i'm jealous too! how fucking awesome is that? to own such a piece of history.

though i myself have gotten some pretty sweet spice girls memorabilia on ebay, so i really can't complain.

F'd-Up Search Results that Led to My Page Somehow - of the Week:

Netflix Stream Movie of the Week: Paradise Now

Paradise Now is a rather fascinating study of two Palestinian friends who are chosen to become suicide bombers. I know, I know, pretty heavy stuff, but the movie was really well done and shows just how crazy and complicated the world can be. Click here for my full review.

Coming Soon to NoFU: 

• I honestly have no idea, any suggestions?

Tweet

Celebration!

Today is a day to rejoice. In the most inspiring moment since the fall of the Berlin wall, Mubarak has stepped down and the Egyptian people are free. Hopefully this is only the beginning of a renewed human rights movement across the globe.

I'm going to get afternoon drunk because I'm so happy for the Egyptian people.

Images taken from here: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/02/11/egypt-celebrations-photos_n_821992.html#238712

Tweet

My First Love

With Valentine's day around the corner and amor in the air, I can't help but reminisce about my own first love and look back fondly at those tender lost years.

She may have looked like the illegitimate lovechild of Tyler Perry and Mickey Rourke, but she was the first to school me in the ways of forbidden love.

She had luscious gray locks that would make any Brillo pad rust green with envy.

Her perfume smelled of pot and popcorn. I still look over my shoulder at the movie theater, hoping she might be there.

She was not as pretty as Johnny Depp, but when her hands slid down the front of my jeans I could almost feel the graceful touch of Edward Scissorhands.

My heart still flutters when I think about how lucky I was to be the last stop on her bus route year after year.

Image taken from here: http://www.whps.org/physed/Heart%20button%20page.htm

Tweet

Time Travel: Hunter S. Thompson, Jimmy Carter & Rolling Stone on June 3, 1976

Last summer I made the score of the century on eBay. For the unbelievable price of 11 dollars I got a package containing four Hunter S. Thompson books and an issue of Rolling Stone from June 3, 1976. The cover story was on then presidential-candidate Jimmy Carter and was penned by none other than Dr. Thompson himself.

When I first got the package I was as giddy as a school girl. I arranged the books all pretty-like on my book shelf and thumbed through the issue of Rolling Stone looking at all the pictures and laughing at the entertaining ads like these:

Look into my piercing blue eyes and tell me why the hell you don't like smoking.

Come on over later tonight baby. We'll put on my new headphones and I'll give you the eargasm of your life! You won't be able to hear right for a month when I'm done with you.

However, after I got my hands on Hell's Angels, that issue of Rolling Stone just sat on my shelf collecting dust until I finally decided to give it a read last night. I was absolutely thrilled to travel back to a time when Led Zeppelin had the number one album in the world, The Rolling Stones still stroked a giant inflatable penis onstage, and the new album from Marvin Gaye was being reviewed.

It really sunk in that I had gone back in time when I got to the featured article on Arnold Schwarzenegger at a point in his life when his biggest movie to date was Hercules in New York. He talked about his desire for fame from a young age making Lou Ferrigno his bitch and how pumping iron was comparable to cumming with a beautiful woman.

The real masterpiece from this magazine is of course from the mad genius himself: Hunter S. Thompson. Reading him is unlike anything else you could experience. You're continually assaulted with insanity, absurdity, biting humor, rage and genius until you start feeling a little crazy yourself. The really amazing thing is that this drunken, drug-addled lunatic was allowed to be in the same room with so many characters that played an important role in our nations history. How the hell did this guy get to be in Teddy Kennedy's entourage? Why would Jimmy Carter agree to a six-hour interview with someone whose been up all night and then shows up to the Governor's mansion holding a beer can?

We were so lucky to get such a unique look into American politics back then because that sort of thing would never happen today. Only an extreme force of nature could break down doors like that and now that he's gone you can rest assured that the powers-that-be added a heavy duty deadbolt to make sure his kind would never break in again. In the end the extra locks were unnecessary because there could never be another. He was never even considered for mass production.

Tweet

If I Owned a Bar...

My long-term goal in life is to one day build up enough resources to buy an old, abandoned, and quirky building in Chicago. It would be a multi-use building with storefronts on the bottom. It would be in a neighborhood that still has a lot of poor people but is starting to slowly become more popular because you can only fit so many hipsters into Bucktown. To give you an idea, the building might look something like this:

Click image for source.

I would completely gut the building and rebuild the interior to meet modern space needs, amenities and also make it nice and green because that's what responsible developers do. It would also be my home, so I'd carve out a large section of the top floor for myself where all sorts of unspeakable things would take place.

On the ground floor I'd want a Mexican restaurant, some studio space, my office, and of course, my very own bar. I really have to thank Jo over at Thank U And Good Nite for thinking I would be an awesome bar-owner. Everyone else I have ever told this dream to thinks I would just become a raging alcoholic. I try to tell them that I would become a raging alcoholic anyway so why not make a career of it?

Being a man of rather eclectic tastes, my bar will naturally reflect my personality. Here are some of the things that would be going down in my bar.

First of all, this is going to be a no frills bar. It won't be kitsch, it won't be trendy, there won't be a theme. This will be a bar that hard-working neighborhood types will feel welcomed in. That being said, every good bar has a few quirks that makes it special. When you walk into my bar you'll be welcomed by a reproduction of my favorite painting: The Old Guitarist by Pablo Picasso.

The Old Guitarist by Pablo Picasso.

Sure this piece is a bit depressing, but art is worth dying for God damnit! A little bit of depression is good for business anyway. There would also be a secret passage from the bar to my office. That way, when my beautiful, artistic, yet verbally abusive and emotionally unstable wife comes down to yell at me for avoiding her and staying at the bar too late, I can sneak into my office at the last minute where we'll have an argument with our words and hands that ends with us making violent love against the wall.

I'll have at least one bilingual bartender and Mexicans will be more than welcome. Nothing says awesome night at the local pub like doing a tequila shot with a drunk Mexican that barely speaks any English and wears a cowboy hat that has "smile now, cry later" airbrushed on it.

Click image for source.

The Duffel Bag Guy will also be a fixture at my bar. If you're from the suburbs and have no idea who I'm talking about, the Duffel Bag Guy walks around every decent neighborhood with a duffel bag full of of Newports he bought in Indiana (because the 10 bucks a pack here is ridiculous), and fake Coach purses for the ladies. In exchange for letting him sell his illegal wares a couple times a night in my bar I'll get the latest bootleg movies movies free of charge and some pretty shitty weed.

Click image for source.

One of my bartenders will have an encyclopedic knowledge of Frank Zappa's life and music career. He'll even be nice enough to let you hook up your iPod to the speaker system to play one of your favorite tunes. Be careful though, if the song you play sucks he will unplug it right away and refuse to serve you the rest of the night - unless you offer to blow him. Karaoke will be encouraged but there will not be one of those god awful machines. There will be a big wooden spoon behind the bar that will be your microphone. You'll be expected to know the words by heart. If you impress the bartender (or promise to blow him later) you and your friends will get a round of free drinks.

Hacker-Pschorr will be kept on tap and sold at cost. Nothing clever to say here. I just love that shit.

I think that gives you a pretty good taste of the kind of establishment I would run. Any good ideas that I'm leaving out? Oh, almost forgot. These signs that Jo made would go on the bathroom doors. Since the post is over now can go check out her etsy page and buy cool stuff.

Tweet

The Gold(en Arches) Standard

A certain segment of the population has been itching for the U.S. to put the dollar back on the gold standard. Most of them hold stock in cash4gold, but we won't hold that against them. There are some pretty reasonable arguments against going to the gold standard that don't seem to get mentioned. For example, the gold standard was useful because the entire world was on it, not just the dollar. Also, there is the logistical problem, where America is going to find 3 trillion dollars worth of gold. Even if we empty all of our dead grandmother's jewelry boxes and rip out the teeth of the entire rap community we're still going to need a lot more of the stuff.

The price of gold fluctuates a lot too. I think we should tie the economy to something that hardly varies in price at all: the double cheeseburger from McDonalds.

From the heights our economy reached in the 1990's, through the collapse of 2008 one thing has remained constant. A double cheeseburger at McDonalds costs 1$. It may cost you three times as much to drive there now, but for 1$ you can still get two mystery meat patties, some plastic cheese, onions, pickles, ketchup, mustard and a greasy ass bun for the same price now as you did 20 years ago. You can't beat that kind of stability. The double cheeseburger even adjusts for inflation. You used to get two pieces of plastic cheese with a double cheeseburger, now you only get one. If the dollar gets stronger you'll get another piece of cheese. If it loses value, then you lose a pickle.

Face it America, we're fat. This strangely sort of fits (even if our jeans don't). Most of you are probably thinking about McDonalds right now. Let's not lie to ourselves, let's own that shit. This Friday night I'm going to make it rain (sorta) beef patties all night long.

Sure it sounds ridiculous, but so is tying the future of our economy to a completely useless metal that is only worth anything because it's shiny.

Tweet

Ecclesiastes

Ecclesiastes is a philosophical book that deals with the "ignorance is bliss" issue that many of us that are lucky enough to be able to educate ourselves often end up pondering. The author (King Solomon according to my Bible) essentially says that while it is better to be wise than foolish, wisdom alone won't make you any better off than a fool because both the fool and the wise man will end up in the dirt anyway. The happy find a happy-medium.

I was kind of taken aback by this book to be perfectly honest. I even  had to reread certain parts of it. I was surprised because despite being an atheist, the message from Ecclesiastes sort of mirrors my own philosophical sense of what the meaning of life is. We're all going to die. There is no afterlife, so let's make the most of our time here on earth.

Needless to say I really agree with the outlook in this book of the Bible. Yet, I feel perplexed. It just doesn't sound very Bible-esque. On a couple of occasions it says in pretty clear terms that there isn't an afterlife. I'm pretty curious to see how this is clarified by that Jesus guy when I get to the New Testament.

Since this is a book that emphasizes the importance of being happy in your life and with what you do in it, I'd like to leave you with Ecclesiastes 9.7:

Go, eat your bread with enjoyment, and drink your wine with a merry heart; for God has long ago approved what you do.

_____________

I decided to read the Bible a few years ago. Not as an angry atheist with an ax to grind, nor as a crazed evangelical looking to spread the word of God. I'm reading it from the perspective of a level-headed man that's curious what the most influential book in history has to say. These are some of my thoughts on the experience. Click here to read some previous entries.

Tweet

ChrisNotes

Announcements:

Brevity... is needed if I'm going to make this ChrisNotes thing work.

Awards. I've gotten some more awards. I think I'm going to try to create an awards page to put them all in. I'm not ignoring all the awards you awesome people have given me,  just finding a good place for them. So yea, expect that soon (or in a couple months).

CSN Giveaway. Nobody really seemed too excited about the CSN giveaway thing so I think I'm going to pass for now.

The Superbowl. Most of Chicago is still crushed from losing to the team that shall remain nameless a couple weeks ago. Easily the least I've ever been excited about the big game. None of my friends are even throwing a big party for it. That being said, GO STEELERS!!!!

Go Look at these Blogs!

KatyDid at Lesbians in My Soup. Katy is incredibly insightful, witty and hilarious. If you haven't checked out her always entertaining blog you really should.

K. Syrah at Shoes Never Worn. Easily one of the more interesting blogs I've come across recently. Her posts are thought-provoking, intelligent and always leave me satisfied.

Random Tweet of the Week from @ntsfrmundergrnd 

If only I knew then what I know now. Which was that I'd need two bottles of vodka.

Comment of the Week: 

i think i need to get a full body condom now...

This little gem was from Paige over at Awkward Sex and the City and was posted on Amphiboly. Strangely enough that was exactly the reaction I was looking for from that piece.

Netflix Stream Movie of the Week: His Girl Friday.

The dialogue in this classic newspaper comedy is some of the best I've ever seen. The quick and witty delivery from Cary Grant and Rosalind Russell is really second to none. Click here for my full review. 

Coming Soon to NoFU:
Yes, I'm aware these are the same exact blogs I said I'd post last week, it happens.

•  My take on everyone clamoring to put the dollar back on the gold standard.
• Another bible blog. This one on Ecclesiastes.
• A review of Charles Dickens' Great Expectations.

Tweet

A Novel Deconstruction: Timelessness

I started the A Novel Deconstruction series because someday I'd like write (and finish) a novel. I'm not an aspiring author and my big dreams for life lie in other professional realms. That being said, I love to write. If I'm not pushing the pen on a regular basis my life feels incomplete. While it may not be the dream, it is a dream to finish a novel I'm proud of. Sometimes, as I stall for time and wait for inspiration to hit, I think about all of the things that go into a great novel. In A Novel Deconstruction, I aim to break down what those different facets of a good book might be and hopefully get some insight from those that have already fought in the trenches between the lines.

Timelessness.

If I'm going to write a novel I sure as hell don't plan on doing it half-assed. Call it arrogance, hubris, or naivete if you like, but if I'm going to pour a significant amount of my precious few years on earth into writing a book it had damned well better be a masterpiece. For better or worse, I've never been one to lack ambition and this applies to writing as well. Before I go any further I'd like to mention that I don't equate success with publication (so I tell myself anyhow), but with creating a work of art that I would be proud to give my name to for the rest of eternity. I'm aware that my standards are incredibly high (as my wastebasket can attest), and because of this I'll probably never actually finish a novel (or get married).

Crafting something that will be relevant for generations seems like a monumental task in a day and age when rapid change is no longer the exception but the norm. If you look to history as a guide, you'll find that the great works of the past that we still find relevant today are usually built around one or two simple ideas. The simple question of free-will versus fate was the foundation for one of the most complex novels I've ever read: War and Peace. Tolstoy started simple and created an epic masterpiece that has influenced every writer since.

Perhaps I've been too wrapped up in creating fascinating characters and scintillating plot twists to ask myself what question I want to ask.

***

To read the previous entry A Novel Deconstruction: Character Psychology click here.

Image taken from here: http://my.opera.com/foolishworld/albums/showpic.dml?album=667915&picture=9086226

Tweet

Amphiboly

I only ever spoke to her in double entendres. I would say things like "hello" and "how are you?", that had the dual meanings of "turn around" and "I want to fuck you".

She was a rather dull girl. I don't think she ever realized my hidden messages. I was afraid I would have to reduce myself to being vulgar and come right out with my intentions. This is why I rarely play with the peasantry.

Before I could attempt to undress her with another turn of phrase, she finally surprised me and turned the corner. I looked at her with disgust as she undressed and exposed her frail and tormented frame.

Plebeian girls always give me the most pleasure. If it wasn't for my reputation I would have cast off women of my caste long ago. They only ever let me do things to them. This sickly slut will enjoy my perversions with me. She will give me  her all, if only for a moment. 

Image taken from here: http://open.salon.com/blog/mgafm/2010/10/18/nanowrimo_character_brainstorm_vomit

Tweet

Shoveling Out

Some pictures of all this damn snow.

Tweet

Sorry Blog

... but it's a snow day!

Here's some pictures because I can't be bothered writing anything due to the crazy snow tornado storm.

Made some homemade stew. It was delicious.

Some people from our building pooled our resources to make sure we'd have all the supplies necessary to weather the storm.

Spent the night watching crazy s*** on Netflix. Oh, finally saw Inception too. For some reason I was hoping it'd be more confusing.

Check out the way the snow stuck to the windows. It's like that fake snow in a can people use for decoration. No idea snow could actually do that.

On a scale of 1-10 I give this blizzard an awesome. It's nearly 4 AM right now and when I look out the window I can barely see across the street. Pretty wild stuff. I'm pretty sure I'll hate this blizzard when I stop getting days off but for now, all is well.

Tweet

Family Stories: Scary Thought

OK, before we get into our regularly scheduled post, I have something to ask you people. Have you people ever held, or won, one of these CSN giveaway thingys? They've been approaching me about it and I'm just wondering if it's worth it. I like the idea of giving you guys some free stuff. I also like the idea of selling out. The problem is they want me to give you guys some free stuff and then I get nothing, which leaves me feeling rather indifferent. So I'm going to ask you insightful, wonderful people, if you'd want me to hold one of those giveaway thingys, because really, I could go either way. Also, don't get your hopes up too much because this may ruin the opportunity. So it goes.

Family Stories: Scary Thought

Sometimes I remember back to when I was 15 and 3/4 years old. I was so close to getting my license and freedom it felt like I was smoking carbon-dioxide cigarettes lit with an ethanol-added gasoline lighter. I would soon be able to go farther than ten blocks from my house. I could have gone farther than that before I could drive, but that's not the point. My parents weren't exactly the type that watched over me constantly. If I was home before dark then I wasn't going to get in trouble. There was never really any reason to go farther than ten blocks from my house. Except to go to the mall I guess.

There were two things I couldn't get in my neighborhood. One was music. I got caught trying to steal Southernplayalisticadillacmusick from the local record store. I also couldn't get my hands on any JNCO jeans nearby, which for some ungodly reason, were the hottest shit on the street at the time. I was the oldest of my siblings. I was also the oldest of my friends. When I turned 16 it was like we all turned 16. I was actually a pretty damn responsible kid too. I'd had a paper route since I was 14. I worked at Six Flags all summer when I was 15. I had the money to buy a 1991 Mercury Sable the same week I got my license. Not to brag or anything, but I was the shit.

For some reason though, anytime I told anyone I was about to get a car they'd say: "That's a scary thought". That phrase would make me livid. I was, believe it or not, more temperamental and argumentative back then. I had no problem telling anyone that doubted me that if anyone deserved a car, it was me. Grandpas, grandmas, uncles, aunts, friends, random acquaintances and even the mailman said the same thing: "That's a scary thought". Well, I got my car and proved them all wrong.

Fast forward to last weekend when I went to go visit the family. My little sister informed me that in the beginning of March she'll have her license. Did I congratulate her? Did I tell her I was proud of her and that she deserves it? No. I said: "Really? That's a scary thought". I've become the cliche that I once despised. That really is a scary thought.

Image taken from here: http://www.autoblog.com/2010/09/28/government-seen-backing-graduated-drivers-licenses/

Tweet