Sonnet 13

I'd twist and turn myself to shake the trend
That follows me so closely as of late.
The price, I ask of you, to send
Another second chance unto my gate
Has seemed as though my free will isn't free,
And some malignant stipulations formed
With sole and single purpose but to see
A simple man in dire struggles swarmed
Have dominated life.  But wait!  I ask
You now to bend my strings and give
Me but a love no farther than a flask
Upon my hip, and smiles to forgive
This broken man of indiscretions past.
His future longs a love only to last.

 Cream Cheese For My Bagel 
 
I suppose I could keep each and every one of my readers on that thin line between the edge of their seats, and their rears on the floor.  However, and I'm sorry to say, it seems that I don't have it in me to unleash such suspenseful and unadulterated drama upon you.  To be honest, I frankly believe that my mailbox should be flooded with the sincerest of thank-you-notes, but some Doctor-Phil-Like instinct is telling me to expect the worst.  Hell, this is America.  We are Americans.  And, as Americans, we have the inexplicable tendency to amplify any problem we may have.  No need to shed tears, my friends, I haven't dropped a daisy cutter on some cave dwellers in scenic Afghanistan (or anything remotely as simple).  The fact is this:  we have zero perspective in which to gauge our problems with those of the rest of the world.  If it’s just not occurring to you that I'm right beyond any reasonable doubt, I’m going to have to ask you move your curser to the small 'x' atop this window.  Feel free to click it - this obviously isn't your scene.  But, if you've been feeling some sublime notion that perhaps my words make sense - that some black veil has been lifted from even more blind eyes - then stick around (I'm sure there are a few empty seats now).  I'll be the first to admit that I'm as American as the rest of us.  I'm the sort of person who whines if I don't have enough cream cheese to cover that little hole in my bagel.  Yes, that little hole is important - but only for twenty seconds at breakfast. Surely there are more important things to whine about, such as finding an empty bottle of A1 sauce before a deliciously plain steak dinner.  Ok, bad example, but I'm going out on a limb and hoping that my sarcasm makes some sort of impact. I'll settle for a small impact, perhaps a lunar crater of sorts, but I desire impact not unlike one 65 million years ago.  It knocked the dinosaurs into the fast lane to Exit 1: Extinction - hopefully it can knock some sense into us.  
 
If my meandering descriptions have failed to stimulate the most beautiful of mental images, then perhaps I should take it upon myself to simplify.  Of course, I could put the brainpower of my readers at fault, but seeing as though I may have alienated a hefty few of you with my advice above, I'll just stay the course.  We're simple people.  See, that wasn't hard.  I used a short sentence, with one contraction and three words, to explain our entire existence.  That alone should serve as explanation enough, but, knowing full well that we are simple, I shall further the point.  We're simple, but we're magnets for complication.  Let me rephrase:  We're not magnets for complication, we're magnets toward complication.  We have an uncanny ability to assume that entire world cares about our problems. Therefore, we emphasize our injuries.  Yeah, I must say, it's unbelievably conversational to mention a nagging groin injury around the water cooler, but maybe we can restrain ourselves.  Eh, who am I kidding.  We can't restrain ourselves.  In fact, restraint seems to be one word that we cannont comprehend.  Say, purely for entertainment's sake, we all fully grasped the concept of restraint.  What a wonderful world we would live in.  I wouldn't be pestered by Jennifer Lopez's fourteenth marriage, or my next-door neighbor’s ingrown toenail.  A little restraint (well, a lot of restraint) would replace the common Joe’s aimless blabbing about some abhorrently trivial Hollywood loudmouth, and put a little perspective in the now gaping hole.  No, I'm not referring to my bagel.  Now, I'm no Aristotle, Socrates, or John Denver, but it doesn't take two philosophers and an oxygen deprived songwriter to formulate a simple theory.  The theory is this (and I've been saying it throughout): we as teenagers, and adults for that matter, simply need to get over it.  I can buy cream cheese for my bagel, and Joe Nobody can get some magic medicine for his disgusting toe, and if you treat those problems like terminal cancer, and talk about them more than Election '04, then we have less to work with than I thought.  Honestly, it's sad.  We as people are so blind to the fact that there are millions of others with bigger and vastly more lethal problems than we have.  Why should you stop bickering about your moron boyfriend who didn't get you flowers for some imaginary holiday?  Why should you stop treating a paper cut like a bullet to the arm on the frontline?  Why should you stop punishing a kid because he royally goofed up and managed an A- on his report card?  Why?   
 
Because it's stupid. 

Because it's meaningless.

Because we shouldn't care. 

I feel truly sorry for the people who do care.  Not only are your problems a picnic in heaven's backyard to some people, but the people who do have problems don't flaunt.  It's amazing how people with cancer compare to people who jammed their finger.  One will fight, struggling to survive, knowing well that the chances of life can be slim.  The other will kick and scream and struggle to survive, knowing well that their finger will feel fine in the morning.  But hey, if you can siphon a little sympathy from someone foolish enough to grant it, more power to you.  However, when you come across that person with cancer, head bared and weakened frame, I hope your finger hurts. I hope the excessive bandage soaks up some of the blood - wait, that's not blood - that looks like hunger for attention and a flare for the over dramatic.  I hope your finger hurts.  
 
If anything can be gotten from the lessons have I taught, and the truths have I administered (and there is no doubt in my mind that I am correct), I would hope it's a lesson of longevity.  I wish I had the comfort of knowing that what I speak can be molded individually to each personal case, without breaking from the original image.  But, knowing that we are selfish and over dramatic, I wouldn't dare be so naïve.  If anything should come of this blog, I would image it be nothing but pure negativity.  I say that not because I have no faith in the people I'm surrounded by, but by the mere fact that we as people are clawing to overdose at the hint of something juicy.  Something to talk about, something to generate a rumor that crushes the spirit of someone else, that's what I envision coming out of this.  Maybe I shouldn't even give myself the credit of having that big an impact on people - however, I couldn’t say that I don't expect it.  It's quite simple actually.  Not only is there no doubt in my mind that I'm correct, and there are millions of people to prove my theory, but I’m sure that with a few minutes of thought, you’ll be able to name someone who fits the spitting image of the people I’ve just described.  Hell, I'm one of them.  I won't shy away from the trend we all seem to be setting.  I'm proud to be an American, but not one who cries when they have no Grey Poupon for their corned beef.  I should hope that all three of my readers would take my words.  Yes, I simply hope that they take them.  It's not up to me what they do with them, but I'm sure they know.  I won't say it again, but I still have the deepest faith that we as people can shake the stereotypes that have been branded deep to our foreheads.  We're strong.  We have American bones and American blood, but it seems that we have French pride.  There is no pride in flaunting a scrape or a cut - if we thought with a half a right mind, not only would this person be ignored, but he'd be laughed at. The emotional girlfriend wouldn't receive the same reaction if we could all handle a little disappointment.  Like I said, restraint and perspective can go a long way.   
 
There's no reason why I can't eat my bagel with a little cream cheese.  
 
There's no reason to cry if I can't.

Kerry's America, Kitchen Now!

The delicate fields waft slowly in the smooth, country air. Sloping hills and still prairies cover the landscape and fall oblong over the horizon. The sturdy, quaint country home stands in tune with the surroundings, yet somehow establishes it's presence. The typified stump, with axe lodged into the wooden surface, sits center among pieces of chopped timber. A veranda porch and smoking chimney create and conclude an air of picturesque home life. As the clatter of horses in the stable fail to startle any normal countryman, the aromas from a busy kitchen ease out of the windows. The soft trotting of footsteps make their way to the finely crafted, oaken front door. John Kerry, draped in a down-home-country apron, reading "Humble Winner of the 2004 Election: Welcome Home", steps out onto the porch and rings the dinnertime triangle. Across the vast front yard come running the guests, who were eagerly awaiting their meal. Kerry, with the smile of a country momma, greets his diners, Usama Bin Laden, Muqtada al Sadr, and a lively bunch of turbaned locals. Yes, John Kerry has opened the door to his home, appropriately named 'America', and has lead is guests straight to the dinning room. Yes, John Kerry has knelled the dinner bell. John Kerry has sent an open invitation.

"Come one, come all. It's dinner time in America. The main course, you say? Why, it's the finest cuts of American safety and lives. Of course, for our special guests, we've twisted the dishes with the essence of radical Islam, and a touch of outrageous terrorism. It comes highly recommended. Our new friend, Muqtada al Sadr, an extremely anti-American Shiite cleric, who enjoys long walks down the streets of Baghdad, and speaking his mind through Iraqi rag newspapers, has arrived for dinner right on schedule. John Kerry, who preludes the main course with a small side of Appeasement, which provides the perfect complement to this Middle Eastern delicacy, is slaving in the kitchen, stewing up some winning formula for a successful four years. Then end result, why it's a flexible backbone! Ladies and gentlemen, John Kerry has apparently steered far of his firm stance on terror and upheaval, replacing his campaign promises with a newly modeled flexible spine. Folks, this spine isn't something you can pick up at your local K-Mart. This spine is perfectly crafted with the latest technology, realistic bone mass, and lined with an elastic fiber that allows it bend over backwards to any seemingly complicated problems! Let's take a look as John Kerry demonstrates! It seems as though an American serviceman, seated at the table appropriately labeled "infidels", is attempting to make a toast. Kerry, with his back to the soldier, swivels in place and complacently respects his guest's wishes. Standing now, preparing to lightly tap his glass with his rusty spoon, the soldier begins to mouth his words. And what's this! It appears as though al Sadr's followers, who have remained still and silent until this point, have stood up and begun to run around the table, chanting phrases and pointing at the soldier. John Kerry, with his hands apparently tied by some final preparations in the kitchen, puts his new spine to the test and bends over backwards! Now looking up at bin Laden, Kerry eases some whispers in al Sadr's direction - all while maintaining his dishes on the stove! Look at that skill folks! I'm not sure if you got the whole picture at home, so I'll send you over to Dennis at the tele-strator!"

"Thanks, Howard. For all you at home, who might not have seen the skill that John Kerry just demonstrated, let me slow it down for you. Here we have Kerry, slowly ladling substance from the old dish 'War on Terror', and mixing it with a pinch of salt and 'Homeland Security' (also known as Free-Roam Borders, Limited-Military Personnel, and Appeasement-of-Euro-Demands). Now this is where the action speeds up. I've paused it here, focusing on the face of esteemed guest Muqtada al Sadr Notice the grin he exhibits has his men scream and dance around the table, interrupting the feeble American serviceman as he tries to speak his mind. Now I'm going to cut to Kerry, who notices the efforts of al Sadr’s men. Ok, stop! In slow motion, notice Kerry immediately begin to bend backwards. Look at the flex in his spine! Wow! Here we can slow it down more and hear what he whispers to al Sadr. Let's listen in: Muqtada, I don't care how much noise you make back home, but the dummies of America might not like it here on the home front. I know, you're right, and we're working on pulling our troops and putting you in power as we speak. How about that! People, you have just bore witness to John Kerry bending his spine to unbelievable proportions, all while mixing the ingredients for his next ingenious plot! It makes me wonder if this man actually has a spine! Well, that's it for me at the tele-strator. Back to you, Howard."

"Ladies and gentlemen, the expert analysis of Dennis Kucinich. While Dennis was clarifying, it seems as though John Kerry has put his spine to use again. While al Sadr calmed his men, Usama attempted to pass some paper, green of color, and six inches in length, across the table to his Iraqi comrade. Unable to reach the grasp of al Sadr, bin Laden requested the help of Host Kerry. Now putting the finishing touches on his signature dish "Fillet of Sanctity", Kerry responds to Usama by stretching his backbone, bending towards the table, and extended his arms to reach the package. Taking it in one hand, and continuing the stirring with the other, Kerry passes it to al Sadr, who appears delighted, and is greeting with a chuckle from the French Delegate adjacent him.

"It appears that Kerry has prepared all of his dishes, and is now ready for distribution. Calling on his aide, the stunningly ambidextrous John Edwards, Kerry first passes his famed dish, 'Infiltrating American Cities', to Usama bin Laden and his followers. With a second course serving of 'Increasingly Inept Intelligence', Kerry is met by the absolute thrill of bin Laden and his men. Happy faces abound as Kerry and Edwards now pass the dish of 'Decreasing Military Presence' to al Sadr and his friends. Followed by dual courses of 'Free Reign of Iraqi Press', and 'Full Coverage in American Papers', al Sadr appears wholly satisfied and full to the brim. Onto the French delegate, who willingly accepts his fair-sized portion of 'Slander-Pot-Pie', and a robust soup known as 'Our Aims are Your Aims', the Frenchmen seems incredibly pleased. With the remaining scraps of bread, and the water remaining from the pitchers, Kerry has a nameless kitchen aid administer them to the American servicemen. With some attempt at protest, the soldier is met by an about face in the opposite direction, and a request for seconds from bin Laden and al Sadr both!

"Ladies and gentlemen, on behalf of the Food Network and CNN, I'd like to take this opportunity to extend my greatest respect to the French on this Bastille Day. Your contribution to modern war-fare, and the art of graceful surrender, not to mention society as a whole, as been simply immeasurable. Folks, this program has been history in the making! You've witnessed John Kerry's newly enhanced spine put to use for the demands of radical Islam, fanatic Shiite clerics, and honorable French delegates. And then there's the culinary aspect. Combining methods of defiling the flag, and the ancient art of anti-Americanism, John Kerry has created meals fit to satisfy even the most anti-American and vengeful. Yes, this has been an event of epic proportions.

"As we prepare to leave you until our next thrilling episode, we ask you to remember: Kerry's America, Kitchen Now!

"For Dennis Kucinich, I'm Howard Dean."

The Democratic Alchemist

Sometime during my sophomore year of high school, in my English II class, the word "alchemy" came to light. Perhaps it was mentioned in one of the novels we covered, or by a student, but it intrigued the class far enough to search the dictionary. Somewhere between 'absolute' and 'animal', after a few seconds of finger-pointing down the pages, we stumbled across our word. Defined in a distinct form, our minds were satisfying. It read, “A medieval chemical philosophy having as its asserted aims the transmutation of base metals into gold, the discovery of the panacea, and the preparation of the elixir of longevity.” It seems to be fairly fascinating, does it not? Upon further investigation, and a few trips to the land of Encyclopedia Britannica, the definition of alchemy took on new meanings. An alchemist was one who may have devoted his life into mutating metals into gold - an impossible task. An alchemist was one who may have toiled for decades searching for an elixir of immortality - sadly, also impossible. Though the years of impossible dreams and alchemy died with the Age of Reason and Enlightenment, certain principles of alchemy still, oddly enough, exist today - and in the most unusual of places. Let's jump the year 2004. Specifically, to the mind of Senator, and Presidential hopeless, John Kerry. Here is an alchemist if I've ever had the pleasure of seeing one on Fox News. Don't be mistaken, John Kerry isn't the typical alchemist, attempting to turn metal into gold - he has plenty of money (thanks to the misses). Rather, Kerry the Alchemist has fashioned his practice not of gold, but of political success. Replacing base metals with sheer political failures and gaffes, Kerry has high hopes of making good on his past mess-ups. However, I call to mind the fact that no alchemist, medieval or modern, has never succeeded in their quest. If they have, you can either thank a tricky lie, a clever publicist, or both. Kerry has "succeeded" in reversing his mistakes, and has taken advantage of the American people in the process. To the average American, who watches the news as often as Slobodan Milosevic hands out milk and cookies, Kerry's success doesn't translate to a few gold coins, but bar upon bar of bullion.

For entertainment's sake, let's venture through the mind of John Kerry. Pack light, it's not a long trip. Ok, we're now between the ears of Senator Kerry. Pretty spacious, eh? Ok, ok, on a serious note, let's focus on whatever substance we can find. Aha, I've discovered a folder labeled "Perceptions of the American Public". It seems to me that John Kerry, Mr. Articulate, Mr. Bush-F*cked-Up, doesn't hold us in extremely high regard. Having not favored a tax cut for the middle class, which Bush has graciously awarded my family (and no, we are nowhere near the upper bracket of society)Kerry is openly expressing his devotion to the American people. Right. President Bush's tax cuts helped pay for my tuition, something that had the chance of suffering if not for the extra boost from the Oval Office. Mr. Kerry, who voted against the tax cuts, of course, argues that giving money back to the American people is not what we need. Hmm. Peculiar. Well, Mr. Kerry, what do we need? Of course, money isn't everything - oh wait, it is. I'm sorry, I must have gotten carried away in Kerry's rather wealthy state of mind. Well, John, I say this. Of course money isn't everything - to you. With a base senate salary, and wife related to Rich Uncle Pennybags, money shouldn't be anything. But here's a memo you might not have read - to the average American family, money is something. It's something we work for, day in and day out. It's something for which we struggle. It's something President Bush gave back to us. It's something you didn't want to. A successful alchemist is never honest.

Like I said before, Senator John Kerry doesn't have our best interests at heart. It's no shock that this war on terror is a challenge. Last time I checked, war wasn't some afternoon picnic in Central Park - no matter how bad Kerry wants it to be. This war will require the same elements every war prior has required: men, guns, time, money. It's quite simple, you take one factor out, we lose the war. However, if we gel the four into a lethal combination, victory will come. John Kerry, candidate for President of the United States, wants to cut military spending. John Kerry, candidate for President of the United States, wants to downsize the American Armed Forces. John Kerry, candidate for President of the United States, wants to place America's security on a back shelf, and look to protect the "supreme" interests of the UN. I must have forgotten why Kerry would want to look to the UN for help in the War on Terror. Of course, if help is offered we should surely take it. Hell, we might even go so far as to ask for it, just be nice. But John Kerry is taking this to a whole new level. What does the UN have that the American Military doesn't? Oh! The cooperation of France! Well then! It seems to make unholy amounts of sense to drop everything and bow for France, the world's #1 superpower. Pardon me? Did I hear that correctly? France isn't the world's superpower? Then who is -- Kenya, Singapore? What's that? America!? No kidding?! What the hell was John Kerry thinking. A successful alchemist is never honest.

As I further analyzed the comparison between medieval alchemist and the brilliant John Kerry, I noticed one final thing. The definition, in part, read: "the discovery...and the preparation of the elixir of longevity". Ok, perhaps you haven't noticed, but John Kerry has the personal staying power of dirty underwear under a power-washer. However, Kerry the Alchemist isn't as dim-witted has we may have assumed. Like a parasite, or even a leech, Kerry has learned to cling to sources that bring him recognition. Kerry's host - the Clintons. Whether Kerry will admit it or not, the only reason the democratic party stands a tenth of a chance is because the Clintons have the media clenched in the palm of their hands. Simply put, the Clintons are Kerry's (and ever other democrat's) Elixir of Longevity. As long as Hillary talks about the trauma of Bill's 'exploits', and Bill continues to tout tidbits like sleeping on the couch for months, Kerry has it made. Does Kerry deserve this attention? Like Gandhi deserves the electric chair. The Clintons, as long as they live, will bring attention of the democratic party, whether it be John Kerry, Ted Kennedy, or Dennis Kucinich. As the saying goes, bad press is still press, and the Clintons are press - no doubt about it. I highly doubt that Kerry will admit the Clinton-effect on the democratic party. He's seems to be the type that's willing to take credit for all the good things he never does. But, believe it or not, he'll be the first to manipulate it. Pitted against arch-rival George W. Bush, and headed on a collision course for the first week of November, don't be surprised if you see the odd picture of Kerry reading Clinton's newest release, slipping the sly comment on the "wonderful atmosphere" the Clinton administration gave America, or feeding off his host. Yes, the Clintons provide a plethora of opportunities for Kerry, simply because they're the Clintons, and they're democrats. Somehow, sound-byte America has fallen in love, the sort of love that generates votes. However, deep down, every single American knows the Clintons. We all know the smooth-talking, debonair Bill, who seduces young interns and never wears a belt (for convenience's sake). We know the brash and bitter Hillary, who never fails to emit that permeating air of friendliness (also known as schizophrenia). Unfortunately for John Kerry, we Americans tend to lose all interest after a certain point. From Sammy Sosa's corked bat, to John Kerry's hideous face gawking at Jane Fonda, to the Clintons aura, after a certain point we just don't give a damn. Hey, Ponce de Leon never found his fountain of youth, and the closest thing John Kerry's going to get to an Elixir of Longevity is botox. Oh yeah, and a successful alchemist is never honest.

The idea of alchemy might have been appealing to the medieval gold-digger, dream chaser, weirdo, and John Kerry, but it's not feasible for the average American. Perhaps Senator Kerry needs to change strategies and adopt a philosophy that will actually benefit America. Funny, but I always thought that was the point of running for President. Kerry the Alchemist is once again telling us he’s successfully turned metal into gold. You’d be a fool to believe him, but it’s your choice. Either way, a successful alchemist is... what - "never honest"? No, I wasn't going to overstay my welcome and say that again. Geez, give me chance.

Ok, one last time:

A successful alchemist is either an excellent liar or completely insane.

You choose.