I'm not wearing any pants.

Film at 11:00.

Once again, my manic musings carry me to the world of academia. But for a change, the focus is not on the administration. No, dear readers, once again, the focus has shifted to the quality of the students in attendance at the institution. I do believe I have met the biggest asshole in Litchfield County. Just maybe.

Not surprisingly, I met this cat in the same class as Jar Jar. For the purposes of anonymity, we’ll refer to this guy as “Tony Lemons.” We call him that because he’s always sour. From the moment this guy walked into class on the first day, he looked about as enthralled as someone who was about to get an enema with a fire hose. No, not a look of fear or fright, but one of utter disgust, as if to say, “I can’t believe I’m here.” And that look stayed transplanted on his mug for the entire trimester.

Attempts at pleasant conversation with Tony Lemons have led to brush-offs and comments of, “I don’t care, I’m done next trimester anyway.” He really doesn’t give a shit.

This came to a head for me this past Thursday. You see, thanks to the mass quantities of white shite (read: snow) we received this winter, our classes have been pushed up one week. In this particular course, our last three classes have had an hour tacked onto them in order to make up for lost time. Not the best plan, but there’s little else to be done this late in the term. So I grin and bear it. Tony Lemons, however, scowls and bitchs. A lot. “I don’t have to stay this late,” “I’m leaving at 8:00 PM, fuck staying ‘til 9:30,” and the golden boner of ‘em all, “I have an hour drive.”

Well that one prompts the question, “where do you live?” And Tony’s response is timeless: “Waterbury.”

In case you didn’t know, I live in Waterbury. And the drive is a mere 45 minutes, not an hour. It’s only an hour if you drive like your 89-year-old Aunt Bea with the bad hip and harelip. When I brought this point up, Tony said, “Well, it’s almost an hour.” In a way, he’s right, but in another, more accurate way, he’s quite wrong. 55 minutes is almost an hour. 45 minutes is 45 minutes, and an asshole is an asshole. And Tony Lemons is a huge asshole.

Further proof: I get an e-mail over the weekend from Tony Lemons regarding our next project for the class, a paper which consists of constructing a survey, having people take the survey, and then inputting the data in the computer to get some cold hard facts regarding the results. Now we learned the process in class, and granted, although it went by quickly, at least I was paying attention. Tony, on the other hand, was dicking around on AIM, sending text messages on his fancypants cell phone, and clockwatching enough to know when to hit his automatic car starter.

Now Tony wants to meet up with me so I can help him with the data entry process. I suppose since we both live in the same town, he figures we can just meet up and discuss the details while avoiding the forty-five minute drive to West Haven. I tried blowing him off by telling him that the paper isn’t due until next week (again, due to the snow), which is accurate. Moreover, I’m still fuzzy on the entire procedure myself, which warrants a trip to the professor for a cranial update. However, he’s still hell-bent on me doing his work for him instead of going to the professor himself.

Y’know, I drive to campus constantly just to get my work done early. My classes don’t start ‘til 5:30, and I’m there by 1:30 half the time. If I can do that, why can’t he? What makes him so special that he can’t brave the forty-five minute drive just to get the cold hard facts?

See, Tony Lemons is the worst type of asshole. The guy who thinks he’s above everybody else, and that you need to be of a special caliber in order to associate with him. But that’s not the reason he’s trying to get me to do his work. No, no, y’see he’s also the type of asshole who thinks he can get by in life by having those who he considers to be below him do anything he wants. This is the same guy that has the barbed wire tattoo on his ankle because he thinks he’s both tough and hip. The same guy that was on the lacrosse team in college. The same guy that could treat anyone like dirt and still pick up the hottest girl at the party for a one-night stand. The same guy that I’ve loathed all through my life.

And he wants my help? He expects me, who he hasn’t spoken two words to all semester to suddenly give him a hand?

Eh-eh.

I don’t plan on wasting my valuable time on this guy, who, contrary to his mindset, is light years below me on the evolutionary scale. And that’s not to say I have an ego, but I can realize a poor human being when I see one, and this joker is among the poorest of the poor.

Fuck thee, Tony Lemons. Thou art an asshole unworthy of my precious time. Maybe next time you won’t be so anxious to walk outta class. Say bye-bye to your GPA, ‘cause it’s heading south for the spring.

Goodnight, and have an asshole-free tomorrow.

Alright, while I have a moment…

The word is on everyone’s lips and in everyone’s minds. Not a day goes by that it doesn’t get mentioned in the news in some way. And not a day goes by that its moral implications are questioned by a good percentage of the American population. You know exactly what I’m talking about.

Spam.

OK, so the topic is actually war. You’ll forgive the non sequitur remark, but I couldn’t help myself. If I don’t throw at least some humor into this, I’m gonna be a miserable bastard all day. Of course, odds are I could be talking about last night’s South Park rerun (“Goddamn Mongorians! You break down my shitty wall for rast time!”), and I’d still be a miserable bastard. But that’s neither here nor there.

Well, the footsteps of war are marching once again, and everyone in the nation is within earshot. Moreover, everyone in the nation has some kind of opinion on the matter. Which is good. I’d rather everyone have some kind of concrete viewpoint instead of just hemming and hawing around the topic. I can understand why the nation’s torn, it’s no mystery to me. We’re trying to protect ourselves, yet at the same time, who wants war? The days of WWII patriotism are long gone, thanks to the Vietnam War. Now, it seems like every time a spot of international tension emerges, we get cynical as hell. And y’know, who can blame us? John Lennon was the first real celebrity activist in favor of peaceful approach, and he was really onto something. At the time, at least. Of course, times have changed dramatically. In spite of the “give peace a chance” mantra he endorsed, I think even Mr. Lennon would acknowledge that our actions overseas are now matters of necessity rather than just throwing our weight around and trying to govern other nations for no reason.

To quote one of my two comedic idols, Dennis Miller, “of course that’s just my opinion, I could be wrong.” Lord knows I have been in the past. But while I’m on the topic, let me just say that I consider Miller not only to be an exceptional comic, but also one of the most brilliant sociopolitical commentators of our time. I recall in 1987 he did a stand-up special in D.C., and the topic of terrorism emerged. I’m paraphrasing, but I do believe Miller’s sentiment was, “I think we should get biblical with these people. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. They kill one of us… maybe we kill one of them. I know that’s a horrible thing to say, and sociologists will say that we’d be lowering ourselves to their standards, and they’d ultimately win as a result. OK, so maybe they win. But it’s sure nice to know there won’t be too many guys attending their victory party.”

As crass as Miller’s statement may be, you have to admit, it struck a chord with you while you read it. You can’t deny it, and you know something? That’s OK. It’s called “human nature.” We’re imperfect beings, and one of those imperfections is the inherent desire to see our enemies fall while we prevail. There’s no shame in it, especially when A) our enemies are truly assholes, and B) when our lives may be at stake.

And don’t kid yourselves, folks, our lives may very well be at stake. My other comedic idol, an equally brilliant sociopolitical commentator, George Carlin, performed an HBO special not too long after September 11th. In it, he offered the notion that the most elemental, primordial section of the human brain, the basic cornerstone of our evolutionary lineage, is designed for two sole purposes: survival, and procreation. To quote Carlin, and again I’m paraphrasing, “survival is more important than fucking. I’m aware that I have a human brain, but beneath that there’s a mammalian brain, and beneath that there’s a reptilian brain. Works somethin’ like this: the human brain says, ‘give peace a chance.’ The mammalian brain says, ‘give peace a chance, but first, lets kill these motherfuckers. The reptilian brain says, ‘let’s just kill these motherfuckers, go to the peace rally and get laid.’” Again, crass to no end. But not without an element of truth. While Carlin’s remarks on the human brain might not exactly apply to all you peace-pushers, his comments on survival are certainly accurate enough.

See, I look at it this way: sometimes you don’t always know who your enemy is. They may be keeping silent so as not to arouse suspicion. That’s essentially what Iraq appears to be doing right now. People keep insisting that Iraq is not an immediate threat. Well, guess what? That’s true. They’re not an immediate threat, they’re an impending one. Just because they haven’t made a formal declaration of their enmity doesn’t mean that they’ll lay low forever. Remember, al Qaeda wasn’t exactly broadcasting that it intended to attack us.

Say you and me are in an alley. You’ve got a gun, and you’re intent on hurting, possibly killing me. I have a gun, too. When I see you point that thing at me, I’m not thinking about your family, your loved ones, the good things you’ve done, the lives you’ve changed, none of that. I’m thinking about my safety, plain and simple. And I will not hesitate to pull the trigger. Sound cold? You might think differently if you were in that position yourself. Not to say I have been, and knock on wood, I hopefully never will be. But that is how my mind operates, and I would hope that it’s no different for any other sane person. But guess what, kids? Sometimes you can’t see the gun the other person’s holding. Maybe he’s got his Glock hidden in the back of his jeans, and you won’t know about it until he squeezes one off and grazes you. You turn around, clutching your shoulder, and there’s no one there but him. Of course, he has an innocent look on his face, but meanwhile you can see a small trail of smoke behind him. Assuming he’s not trying to light a fart, you can reasonably assume that he just tried to kill you, and you have to turn the gun on him. Sometimes, substantial evidence is enough to incriminate. Maybe not always in our legal system, but certainly in life. I believe that is the case here, and I’ve seen more than enough evidence to convince me that our current course of action, while not the most favored by my standards, is a necessary evil for our survival.

Look, I’m not saying I like war. Our sons and daughters get sent into battle and may not come back alive. Economies are shattered. Innocent people get hurt, or worse. Lives are forever changed. But you know, that’s the price of freedom. And believe me, freedom is not free. It’s not a token dolled out like complimentary rolls of quarters in Vegas, it’s a privilege that must be earned. Kind of ironic when you realize we have to work to be free, but that’s how it is and has always been. From the get-go, our wig-wearing, slave-loving founders had to engage in combat to win freedom. And it didn’t end there. When you look at things that way, you sort of see how war is a necessary evil. At least in my mind’s eye.

But that’s not to say I don’t understand those who are against war. I may not agree with them, but I can recognize and appreciate their beliefs. Like I said, I don’t want it anymore than the next person. However, I would sleep easier at night knowing that my safety, as well as the safety of my loved ones and the rest of the nation does not depend solely on our government’s response time. We had clues to the attacks that changed the world just over a year and a half ago, and they were largely disregarded. Quite frankly, the next time we get caught with our pants down, for all we know we could receive a thermonuclear anal raping sans lube. And to be honest, I’d prefer that didn’t happen.

So there you have it, my thoughts on the current conflict facing us. I appreciate any and all comments, how-fucking-ever, I’d prefer that the opinions I receive come from an informed perspective rather than just a skewed blurb of, “No blood for oil,” or “Fry the bastards.” So I’ve provided a list of things to consider when formulating your opinion.

- Saddam has been naughty, on both a national and worldwide scale. Aside from tyrannizing his own people (who gets a 100% voter turnout?), he has lied to the U.N. and has been hiding weapons of mass destruction. That’s a proven fact. Moreover, he’s been financially supporting terrorists. There’s only so much money Osama can have living in a cave with a dialysis machine keeping him outta the grave.

- Our president is a cowboy. It’s not hard to deny this fact when he makes no attempts to hide it. You can see in his eyes and hear in his voice that he likes war, and that he hates Saddam. There is a grudge there, and he’s not willing to let go.

- There are other threats. North Korea still has their toys of terror, and they’re even less willing to comply than Iraq. Not only that, but their military is much stronger. Disarming Iraq will take relatively short as compared to most international struggles. Fighting North Korea could take time… why not go after them first? Oh, yeah, because of the presidential facts above.

- Respect our men and women in the military. I don’t care what your thought is on the war itself, you must acknowledge their effort. Either they’re protecting our nation, or they’re doing what their told because they have little choice. Don’t go spitting on them just because they’re doing their job.

- Celebrities have no right to tell us how to feel. I don’t care how many Oscars or Emmys you have in your collection, I don’t care how much you can convince me that you’re an actual retard on the screen, I don’t care how good you look in that expensive Versace gown strolling down the red carpet sporting your 24K diamond-studded purse. These people live a life of luxury and will probably be protected for the rest of their lives because of royalties. They’re the last people that should be bitching about war. For that matter, they’ve no reason to bitch about anything. With the exception of a rare few, Bono, Steven Tyler, and Danny Glover among them, anytime any of these celebs go out of their way for charity, it’s to get themselves over, plain and simple. I don’t think they should complain about the state of a third-world country when they’re living like domestic royalty in their own little globes.

- Lastly, no one deserves to be blackballed for any reason. It doesn’t matter which way you look at things, this nation was founded on freedom of speech, and that is how it should always be. The NYPD have no reason to beat on protesters, and songs about freedom and forgetfulness have no reason to be banned from the radio (fuckin’ Clear Channel pricks). Disregarding our first amendment rights is a sin, and that’s a crime worth punishment.

So there you have it. I think I’ve said all I can say, so for now I’ll sign off.

Goodnight, and have a pleasant tomorrow.

I've been absent due largely in part to the immense pile of work staring me in the eye as I type this that may be referred to as, "the end-of-the-trimester-pile-of-work."

However, I have not forgotten about my beloved blog, and will be posting again soon regarding, believe it or not, topics of a political nature. And I'm sure you'd have to be living undera rock to not know where I'm going with this.

Stay tuned, we'll be right back after this commercial break!