Children's Literature

I just spent the last hour reading picture book after picture book to a 2 year-old girl in an attempt to get her to fall asleep.

At the end of it she was still wired like a crystal meth addict on Red Bull.

I blame children's literature.

These books have beautiful pictures and captivating plots about cute lil' animals that get lost and find their way home against overwhelming odds. Even I can't put it down.

Fuck that.

Next time I wanna put a kid to bed I'm reading them either Dostoevsky, Melville or anything by Joel Osteen.

ZZZZ, indeed.

By the way, don't read this and pretend you like Melville. I'll give you Dostoevsky but no one really likes Melville.

We all just pretend we do because it's easier than admitting we've been wrong about "Moby Dick" all these years.

The Death of Stand-Up Comedy America...

In the last 18 months alone...

R.I.P. Nitwits - Sioux Falls, SD

R.I.P. Comedy Texas - Beaumont, TX

R.I.P. The Funny Bone - Fairview Heights, IL

R.I.P. The Funny Bone - Boise, ID

R.I.P. The Funny Bone - Reno, NV

R.I.P. The Funny Bone - South Bend, IN

Clubs closing, travel costs skyrocketing, wages stagnating, no one with the time or energy to leave the house and see a show...

Folks, once every 6 months please go out and support your local comedy club. Otherwise you may wake up one day to find it's gone.

So pay for a ticket, buy a drink or two, get out from in front of that hi-def TV, computer screen, iphone or other thingamajig and enjoy some good old-fashioned live entertainment.

Unless your local club doesn't book me.

Then fuck 'em. Burn it to the ground.

The Off-Shore Drill Bit - A Love Song to Credulous Americans Everywhere

Gas is like $4 a gallon these days...

Or even more (see picture).

So what does the Republican party do about these dire straits of Hormuz?

What, might you ask, is their cumulative, best answer to this gravest of American circumstance?

What solution shall they evince to soundly countermand the shot across the bow of the U.S.S. Armageddon that is the current energy crunch?

Well for the most part they seem content to rant and rave like ADD-addled 2nd graders in men's clothing. Yes one can't help but feel secure that the country is in good hands when the Republican party pries it's mouth off the oil companies' collective johnson just long enough to throw an astounding hissy fit for tourists on the floor of the House of Representatives.

About what? Why about the IMMINENT NEED FOR OFFSHORE DRILLING.

Because THAT and THAT ALONE is the answer to all our prayers.

Yeah.

Right.

In other words they insincerely offer a non-solution to the VERY REAL problem of energy. Then they turn it into a political stick and wield it like a fucking bludgeon against the noggin of public opinion until the American populous doesn't know what to think anymore.

Of course if we had a skeptical media instead of an inept media this wouldn't be an issue. The problem is the mainstream press is pushing this crap like it's actually a viable issue. Under the guise of impartiality they're repeating the GOP talking points without bothering to refute the obvious facts.

The result of all this being that an apparently large part (80% at last count) of the overworked, underpaid, non-investigatory-by-nature type citizens in this here country are apparently buying into the Republican oil company-whore bull shee-yat machine.

So for all you confused, lost, faithful patriots out there, here's THREE BIG REASONS why OFFSHORE DRILLING IS WRONG, along with a few simple exercises you can do that are sure to help with yer learnin' 'bout the issue!

Reason #1 - It will take 10 years to see any of this oil. 10 fucking years.

Here's a good way to think about that:

Take the age that you are now. This moment. Today.

Then add 10 years to it.

What number did you arrive at? Good.

That will be the age you are before offshore drilling HAS ANY FUCKING EFFECT ON OIL PRICES.

If that's not enough to sink in the message then try this handy theorem:

Go look in the nearest mirror and stare right at your lovely, dimpled American face.

Now imagine the effects of another DECADE OF RECORD OIL PRICES and EXTREME GLOBAL WARMING RADIATION will have on that presumably vacant expression you so comfortably wear like an old pair of granny panties.

Yes, dear Americanski, you are correct!

10 years from now you will not only look stupid (as per usual), but rather stupid and old.

Enjoy that!

Reason #2 - When the oil hits the market it will only effect the price by a few cents.

Here's a great exercise to help you comprehend the ultimate, inescapable insignificance of "a few cents":

Go to the closest store to your house.

Maybe even walk to save on energy. That's a good patriot! :)

Now try to buy something with a nickel.

What do you mean "you can't buy something for a nickel"?

Why surely you can get a pack of gum or some beef jerky or maybe even a stick of licorice for a good ol' Tommy Jefferson!

Jesus H., he was our THIRD PRESIDENT after all. His visage has to have some value, if only sentimental.

No? You can't buy anything?

Great! Now think about the effect that saving A FEW CENTS PER GALLON IN 10 YEARS will have on your life!

If your answer was ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY NO EFFECT WHATSOEVER IN ANY WAY SHAPE OR FORM then congrats!

You're starting to comprehend the unfortunate fact that you jus' ain't gonna send your kiddies to college with the money you saved because of offshore drilling.

Reason #3 - When you're in a hole the first rule is: STOP DIGGING.

Look, folks, we're addicted to oil. Even 'Dubya says so. So is the solution to that to try and find more oil?

Oil that won't even hit the pumps for 10 years?

Let's ponder this question by completing another super-duper easy exercise. Ready?

Step 1: Go get addicted to heroin.

Pretty great stuff, huh?

Step 2: OK, now try to get off of heroin by DOING MORE HEROIN.

What? You're still riding the white horse? Shoot.

How about this...

Step 3: Try to stop shooting up heroin by going out and LOOKING FOR CHEAPER HEROIN THAT IS CLOSER TO YOUR HOUSE.

How's that working out?

Huh? What do you mean you're still addicted to heroin and your arm is covered with puss-filled scabs?

Well shit. Sorry!

Um, look, just try not to get AIDS from a dirty needle or blow anyone for like a dollar.

I mean you can't even get a gallon of gas for a dollar, let alone some more yummy smack.

OK, now sober up and think about what that exercise taught us besides the fact that heroin fucking rocks.

It taught us you don't break an addiction to something by doing more of what you're addicted to.

Duh.

To sum up...

The solution is not offshore drilling.

The solution is alternative energy investment and NOW.

Plug-in hybrids, updated building codes, public transit that runs on good karma and rainbows, I don't give a shit.

The answer is anything but letting the oil companies fuck up the coast line and pollute our already damaged ecosystem so you can save a nickel a gallon in 10 years.

OK, final exercise:

Take a deep breath.

Now admit I'm right.

Viva la Sioux Falls (go Canaries!)

Sioux Falls, you have been a surprise.

I guess I assumed that so far removed were thee from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the GREAT NATION STATE that you wouldn't get me, or I wouldn't get you, or we wouldn't get each other and would just spend 4 nights staring back and forth like two people on an interminable first date.

Thus was not the case.

The crowds were perfect. They were in no particular order: polite, enthusiastic, astute and eager to listen (I know I sound like I'm describing a young suitor from a Jane Austen novel but that's how they were).

I can't wait to come back here next year. Hell, even the bachelorette party on Saturday night was perfectly behaved. How often does that happen?

I've noticed something lately. Small-town America ain't so small anymore. No when it comes to ideas, anyway.

Perhaps it's the greater access to information these burgs have nowadays. The 24-hour cable news networks and the internet providing a portal to every tidbit and morsel of goings on, thereby allowing for deeper, more measurable amounts of cultural penetration into the outer sectors of society.

Perhaps...

Or maybe, just maybe I just shouldn't prejudge people.

I dunno. All I know is I had a great time at the Sioux Falls Canaries game yesterday.


This wasn't Triple A, Double, nor even lowly Single A ball. No this was independent Northern League ball.


These are guys hanging on to the dream by the thread of a thread's second cousin.

I have to say, it doesn't get any better or purer for someone of my tastes.

$10 bucks for a box seat right behind first base. A hot dog and a Diet Coke in hand and I was in small stadium heaven.

Loved the atmosphere. Families everywhere, everyone there before the first pitch and staying 'til the last. Not a swear word to be heard.

I sat two rows in front of a greasy-haired 50 year-old chatterbox with a set of teeth like piano keys who never met a Canaries player he couldn't root on or an opposing batter he couldn't work up a jeer or two against. Clad in his late model Rolling Stones concert T-shirt, he was one of those "wants to be funny but never will be" type guys. A know it all. Cliff Claven in Sioux Falls.

The type of guy who stands during the part of the game when everyone else is sitting down.

But I was glad he was there. I found it comforting to hear his unending chatter - rah rah encouragements for the home team mingled with conspiratorial accusations in the wake of every close or downright bad judgment on the part of the umps.

It wasn't satisfying to him that the umpires would actually make an honest mistake from time to time or call to call. No he had to believe these men were actually from the other team's home town or were perhaps in receipt of a bribe from some opposing coach/owner/evil baseball game fixer. Some malfeasance was occurring and would not go uncommented upon as long as Cliff was present, ever-vigilant in the seats behind first.

There was no pitch, no ball or strike, no infield pop-up, no well-laid bunt he couldn't work himself into a frenzy of either joy or disgust over. Every baseball game needs one of these guys. He was this one's.

Now for the recap...

At first the Canaries didn't look to be swinging so hot, falling down 4 to 1 in the early going. But then a bases loaded opportunity in the bottom of the 5th inning led to a no out double and then a homer for a grand total of 7 big runs that turned the tide of the game for good.

Go Canaries indeed!



Lots of in between inning hijinks to kill the time.

An Axe thrower popping balloons between his assistant's legs, a unicycler juggling chainsaws, the Canaries' mascot being chased down and tackled by a ten year-old who won a prize for doing thus.

By the way - is that not the creepiest mascot ever? I mean, what happened to the full body suit? Did he misplace his bird gloves? There is just something incredibly disturbing about seeing a man with a canary face and human hands.

Other than that it was a successful afternoon and a great week in Sioux Falls. I hope I come here every summer and I hope the Canaries win it all this year, whatever "all" is in the Northern Leagues.

It was all enough for me.

I am old...

I'm old.

Not old like "I'm gonna die any minute old".

I'm old like "I can't believe I played basketball 3 days in a row" old.
34 is too old for the NBA and it sure as hell is too old for the rec center.

My legs feel like I ran a marathon and my back thinks somebody tried to collect a debt from me with a bat.

Ah well. I'm in Dayton with a day off and this is truly the silly season. No football to watch on TV and nothing on CNN but politicians trying to prove who believes in Jesus more.

I should have gone to the minor league Dayton Dragons game today. Damn! Didn't occur to me 'til I was writing this.

I will tell you one thing for sure, next Sunday night I will be watching the Sioux Falls Canaries take on the hated Sioux City Explorers.

Then the following week I'm gonna check out the Peoria Chiefs openin' up a can of whoop-ass on the West Michigan Whitecaps.

After all, what good is being out here all alone in the midwest summer if I can't have a hot dog and watch somebody chase their dreams 'round the ol' basepath?

I'm OK, You're Fucked Up

I am a nervous wreck of steel.

I am a beautiful crater of hate.

I am a strange rat shivering under an umbrella of uncertainty.

I am done with my shows in Dayton. For the year.

It's getting towards that part of the cycle. Time to start booking. Time to worry about January.

I miss smoking copious amounts of pot after a performance.
It made it easier to be alone in a strange city after a show.

I haven't smoked any since January.

It made things interesting and mellow and most of all - when combined with the correct amount and type of other substances - unfeeling.

NyQuil and Xanax alone don't do the trick. They help but I need to shut it down completely somtimes.

To escape from my thoughts for a brief instant of calm in an ocean of fret.

I need it.

My uninterrupted minute of love and serotonin overload.

THC mixed with Xanax mixed with "Chris Mathews' Hardball" mixed with the New York Times Crossword.

Alas, what bliss is this!

Unfortunately there is always a price to pay for escape. The ticket out costs more than I want to pay.

I always wind up back in my own skin, missing something I can't get back.

Drugs suck and they ruin your life.

But like ex-girlfriends and other things that are bad for you, well...

... sometimes you miss them.

Other than that it was a great week and Dayton fucking rocks! See you next year D-town!

I drive to Sioux Falls day after tomorrow. More updates as events warrant.

Peace,
Sean

Doublethink Alert

According to Orwell's "1984", the concept or practice of doublethink is:

"The power of holding two contradictory beliefs in one's mind simultaneously, and accepting both of them..."

I run into this shit a lot lately.

Yesterday I was listening to Hugh Hewitt and he said (I'm paraphrasing):

"I'm not fear-mongering! I don't care what Olbermann says! Nobody cares what Olbermann says! I am not a fear-mongerer! Now let me give you some reasons not to vote for Barack Obama. Number one - he will ruin your economic future. Number two - he will get you killed."

Wow.

That is some 4th degree blackbelt level doublethink.

I also saw "actor" Stephen Baldwin on Faux News talking about how Hillary and Barack "hated each other's guts" during the primary.

Then he saw them on TV huggingg the other day and to him that was an example of how the Democratic Party will "literally do whatever it has to, whether it's authentic or not, to win this election."

Now let's be honest. The Dems had a tough primary. Sort of like John McCain and Dubya had in 2000. Remember when Karl Rove spread rumors in S. Carolina that McCain's adoptive Bangladeshi daughter was actually his illegitimate black child?

How do you think that made McCain feel?
I mean Bush's campaign went after his daughter!
Do you think he was filled with feelings of love and tenderness towards the dear leader?

Or do you think he wanted to beat the living shit out of ol' Georgie-boy and Turd-Blossom?

Regardless, in the 2004 general election we were treated to this creepiness...







Now the Obama/Clinton primary reached some fairly heady levels of nastiness (mostly from Clinton's side - the 3 AM phone call ad, etc.). However nothing came even close to the shit Rove pulled on McCain's little girl.

But obviously poor little Stevie has had his political theater cherry popped by the horrible spectacle of Hill and Big O huggin' it out.

Anyway, Baldwin also went on to say...

"What is freaky to me is the media and Hollywood is so convinced that Middle America and mainstream America cares what it thinks."

Right. Well what is freaky to me is that Baldwin doesn't understand the irony of his statement.

Because when he was saying it (and I could be wrong ) he really seemed to believe people should care what he thinks.

And I don't want to be an asshole, but...

Hello, Steve!!!! YOU'RE FROM HOLLYWOOD!!!!

That's why you're on Faux News! Not because you're an incisive, well-respected intellectual or a member of some obscure think-tank!

No, you're on TV giving your opinion because you made fucking Bio-Dome with Pauly Shore.!

Anyway I'm actually having a pretty good day. I've just been re-reading Orwell and the term doublethink really got me... thinking.

But not doublethinking. I swear.