Things I Think I Think On August 4, 2008

Oil slick. It is with considerable bemusement that I've been watching our politicians fight over whether or not we should begin off-shore drilling in Alaska, Florida, and California in an effort to increase our supply of oil and lower oil prices. It's laughable, the lengths to which these oil industry parasites will go to justify our current approach to energy policy. Their bias is so obvious, it amazes me that people continue to believe that these people are anything other than shills for the oil industry. Today, I heard one chooch say on CNN that we're "stuck" with oil for the foreseeable future, so what we need to do is to find new ways to access it.

Sez who? Who says we're stuck with oil? Were we stuck with coal-fired railroads in the 20th Century? Or transatlantic boat rides? God knows we've built better and better killing machines in the past 200 years. Semiautomatic rifles, laser-guided missiles, stealth bombers, nuclear weapons that could render the human race extinct in a matter of hours. Who says we can't ween ourselves off of oil? That ain't the American way! Listening to that douche was like listening to a drug addict justify why he needs to keep using heroin. No alternative? How about spending all the billions in subsidies we give to the oil industry every year on building hydrogen gas stations across the country, so that Detroit will be encouraged to build hydrogen cars? You see, hydrogen is plentiful. It's everywhere. And it doesn't pollute. How about doing a Manhattan Project for solar and wind power? How about subsidizing THOSE industries with government money, industries that will actually do some good in the world?

Here we are, fighting two, bloody foreign wars and spending billions upon billions of dollars on defense and terrorism prevention largely due to our addiction to oil, and our politicians, the people who are elected to protect us and promote the common good, are busy defending and promoting the oil industry and ensuring that we'll continue to need Saudi Arabia, Iraq, Iran, and Venezuela for the foreseeable future. Hmmmm. Could it be that the oil and defense industries BENEFIT from our addiction to oil and our foreign wars? All you need do to learn the answer is follow the money. Who's benefiting from this policy? With regard to drilling in Alaska etc., it's a joke. Most estimates say we won't benefit from that oil for another seven years. And the oil we get after we destroy those environmentally-protected areas won't be more than a drop in the bucket. It's a band-aid on a bloody, festering wound.

No, what's needed here is political courage and foresight. That's why I personally hope gasoline prices go up to $20 a gallon. Maybe then people will stop driving SUVs and demand emissions standards higher than the paltry 35 mpg we're going to get in 2012. Fucking joke. It's only when people in this country get hit in that place they care about most -- their wallet -- that they bother to insist on real change. So bring on $20 a gallon. I still have my bike.

Look at that corona! Have you ever seen a total eclipse of the sun? No, not a total eclipse of the heart. That's Bonnie Tyler. I said total eclipse of the sun. No? Me either. Well, here's your chance to see one vicariously, from a pretty interesting vantage point, the inside of an airplane. Check out this video, and try to ignore the moronic commentary from the passengers.
Courtesy of Gizmodo.

Pretty cool.

Schlitz is back! Can you believe it? The iconic beer of the 20th Century, the beer of your father and your grandfather, is making a comeback. When I was a kid, my dad used to buy three kinds of beer: Pabst Blue Ribbon, Schlitz, and Schaefer (The beer you're having when you're having more than one!). Schlitz was probably dad's third favorite. Now why, you may ask, did they stop selling Schlitz in 1982? Well, interesting story. Here's MSNBC to tell you:

"Before it vanished, the beer changed — for the worse. According to [Leonard] Jurgensen, considered by Pabst to be the foremost "Schlitzstorian": First, brewery control shifted from immediate family members to more distant relatives, who wanted to expand the business. With demand high, the new owners wanted to make more, so they shortened the fermenting process. And they let customers know it through heavy marketing. There were also quality control issues for barley, so the beer went flat quickly. Customers associated the flatness with the quickened brewing time, and they weren't pleased. To fix the flat problem, the brewers added a seaweed extract to give the beer some foam and fizz. But after sitting on the shelf for three or four months, the extract turned into a solid, meaning drinkers got chunky mouthfuls.

And then, the biggest of errors.

"They decided not to pull their product off the shelf," Jurgensen said. "They decided to weather the storm and sell that product. That's the worst possible mistake they could have made."

Floaters? Flat beer? It was all too much for drinkers to swallow."

Chunky mouthfuls and beer just don't go well together. Neither does seaweed extract and beer. But what I remember about Schlitz before the seaweed debacle can be summed up in one word: GUSTO. What's Gusto? Fuck if I know. Just some ad agency creation. Schlitz commercials -- which were omnipresent and ad nauseum back in the 70s -- told us that every Schlitz beer was jam-packed with Gusto. As if Gusto was a flavorful beer ingredient, like barley and hops. Then the tag line at the end of the commercial, where we were told to "Go for the Gusto!" and buy a six pack of Schlitz beer. This was typically accompanied by the sound of a beer can opening and a shot of a mountain top. 32 years later, I still don't know what the hell Gusto is. Whatever it is, I sure hope the new Schlitz beer has it!

What's up with the beheadings lately? First there was the guy in Canada who beheaded the guy next to him on a Greyhound bus while the guy was sleeping. Can you imagine? You're on a bus -- the cheapest, most basic form of transportation around -- and you decide to get some shuteye. You hear a noise, open your eyes and there's the guy next to you with his eyes wide open, a snarl on his face, trying to cut your head off. Bizarre. And I heard yesterday that the lunatic began eating his victim's flesh after he did the deed.

Then, just as I was getting over that bit of news, I read today that some other guy half a world away, in Greece, beheaded his girlfriend. WTF? What the hell are people carrying around these days, anyway? How do you hide a machete? Or a long knife? I thought we were living in a fascist state where everyone gets searched for weapons? Oh wait, that's only in America. Anyway, how many times does it have to happen before it's a trend? Fall is almost here, and I want to accessorize properly.

Saw Batman the other night. Damn if Heath Ledger wasn't as good as everyone said he was. I went in skeptical because I thought all the accolades were simply gratuitous piling on after his death. I stand corrected. He was fantastic as the Joker. Nihilistic and homicidal. And funny. The guy had a great, if sick, sense of humor. Before it was all said and done, Heath made Jack's version of the Joker look like a silly cartoon. Of course, it's hard to be too happy about it because he's gone now. It's like watching someone win an Olympic sprint, only to have his medal taken away because he jumped the starting gun.

Brett Favre is a tool. I've always thought the guy was seriously overrated and loved for no apparent reason other than he's a decent guy who enjoys what he does. The effusive praise for the guy is beyond me. So when he retired in March, I was happy because I wouldn't have to hear his name anymore. Brett Favre. Brett Favre. Brett Favre. But lo and behold, mere months later, Brett decides he wants to play again. He wants to un-retire. The latest in a series of retired assholes -- Michael Jordan, Magic Johnson, and, most notably, Roger Clemens -- who retired and then un-retired. Roger's done it like 38 times. Now, the Packers are going to be forced to take BF back, after they'd justifiably moved on when he retired.

Talk about egos running amok. Don't people know how to move on anymore? To go gracefully into that good night? They should do this. From now on, any sports figure who announces his or her retirement should be forced to lose a finger every time they un-retire. Let's see how badly they REALLY want to play. In Roger's case, he'd only have like two fingers left on one of his hands. Let's hope it's not the one he used to inject steroids into his ass.

I'm going to be forty in exactly three weeks. For-ty. Dang, that's old. How'd this happen so fast? I hope my next 40 don't fly by so quick. I've been paying careful attention to 70 and 80 year-olds lately, how they look, how they move, what they care about. The whole time I'm thinking "They're double your age. You've lived half your life already. You'll be LUCKY to get to their age, and even if you do, look at all the old person crap you're gonna have to deal with: saggy skin, heart medicine, arthritis, declining memory. Let's not even get into the 3 Ds -- dentures, dementia, and Depends -- if things really go south."

One day at a time. One day at a time.