Monday, October 6, 2008
Crock The Vote: My Political Rant
Several of my friends have said that they can't believe that I haven't been watching the presidential and vice-presidential debates or getting more involved with the election on a local level. I felt it was time to tell the public why I tend to stay out of politics. I feel an uncontrolled vent coming on, so pardon any rambling:
For starters, I think all politicians are slimy and do very little in the way of accurately representing their constituents' needs and beliefs. Politicians aren't about representation; they are about egotism and the fulfillment of a personal agenda. They are about doing their best to appeal to every single demographic out there by spinning their personal views however necessary to paint themselves in a flattering light depending on which group they are trying to impress at that given moment. It doesn't matter whether they are Republican, Democrat or Independent because they all do it. Even the politicians with the best intentions have no choice but to bring out the worst in their opponents because negativity and cruelty are the only true ways to make an impression.
Despite the fact that I am a registered Democrat, I find both parties to be thoroughly disgusting. I may find John McCain sketchy and repulsive but I find Barack Obama just as untrustworthy and slippery. When I cast my ballot it's less about sticking by my party than voting down the person who disgusts me the least. I don't feel either of them will actually make my life better. I know that doesn't sound very patriotic of me. But that's how I see it. When we live in a country where every person is granted basic human rights and the opportunity to have honest representation in the government then I'll gladly rethink my position.
And speaking of positions, a lot of my problems with government stem from the fact that I'm a minority. And I'm not just talking about being a white boy in Queens (which in and of itself doesn't sound like an actual minority position, but you sit in the Queens County Supreme Court jury pool and take a look around and count the crackers...it made me exuberantly happy to see such incredible diversity). There's the obvious gay minority, which has almost no representation in politics. Sure, there are a growing number of openly-gay elected officials and perhaps they are more sensitive to listening to their gay constituents. But a constituent is a constituent and even the most gay-hating politician has a duty to heed the call of their electorate. This, of course, will never happen but that's the history of politics.
The second minority I am in is an even smaller one than the homo niche, and that is the minority of Those Who Feel Organized Religion Is A Crock And To Blame For Almost Everything Else. I may not personally believe in God but I acknowledge that other people out there do. And I have no problem with people having faith, be it generic or devout, based in whatever religion suits them. I think that's another beautiful aspect of being on this planet - the diversity of religion can open up the mind and the soul to so many possibilities and provide multiple ways to examine one's own life. My problem is with the zealots who think that their God is the Be All and End All of Gods and think anyone else is bat-shit crazy. These are the people who are holding back society because from the word "Go!" they have already closed their minds and refused to acknowledge that part of being an American is celebrating difference. And, unfortunately, almost every politician out there has to have these people on their side or else risk losing the election. There is no true separation of Church and State in this country and that is a huge problem. People use their religious values to inhibit the growth of our nation rather than celebrate the diversity, learn from each other, and advance our common agenda as human beings. And, sadly, this is something that will never change.
America - the country where there is no room for individuality. America - the land of repression and inequality. America - our spiritual and emotional borders are closed. America - where it doesn't matter if you're a half-black Hawaiian or an aging septuagenarian millionaire vying for the White House because despite your best intentions everyone will find a reason to bring you down in the eyes of others.
I know that I'm mostly preaching to the choir here at The Barn but please comment if you'd like. I'm very open to the criticism. But don't turn it into a personal, moral attack like our "leaders" do. I'm willing to celebrate the fact that you have a different opinion and am glad to hear that you have one. Just don't simply tell me that I'm wrong, because that shows me you're unable to offer the same respect. Perhaps your difference in opinion may enlighten me and give me food for thought. And that would make me exceptionally proud to be a human, even if I'm not all that proud to be an American.
Posted by mak at Sunday, October 5, 2008
Sunday Summation #25
An eighties mixed tape is a sure-fire way to make even the most enjoyable of drives a gajillion times more fun.
Friday, October 3, 2008
Oh What A Ride It's Been
It's hard to believe but nearly three months of non-stop downtime with K. are coming to a close and we'll be settling back into "real life" (or whatever is real for a theater couple) very shortly. As such it's going to be a weekend of rest, relaxation and roller coasters. I'm already half-exhausted!
Tonight K. is going to see a show with some former co-workers, leaving me free for the evening. My plan is to hit the grocery store immediately after work and pick up the ingredients to make my grandmother's famous Italian risotto. The recipe is one of our family's most celebrated dishes and was made for almost every meal when my mother's side of the family gathered en masse at my grandparents' house. Since it's going to be another chilly evening I thought it would be a perfect time to sit at the stove top, stirring rice for two hours. It's labor intensive, sure, but it really only takes one hand which leaves the other free for (stuff it, perverts) drinking a glass of wine. I'll set up my laptop in the kitchen and have Sophia Petrillo keep me entertained while I cook, which is almost the same as having my grandmother there.
No big plans for our Saturday, other than trying to get the apartment tidied up and laundry put away. Our landlords will finally be back from their six months in Greece and we just want to make sure the house is in presentable condition. K. and I will likely catch up on the week's worth of television we managed to avoid and eat more leftover risotto.
On Sunday we'll be celebrating K.'s last official day of unemployment by going to Six Flags one more time this season. It's forecast to be a gorgeous day, although it may be a little on the cool side for maximum roller coaster enjoyment. Still, we'll brave the wind chill factor and it'll be a great way to blow (shut it) off some steam before he starts work on a huge (okay, fine) project for the next ten months.
Finally, on Sunday night I'll be choppered directly from Six Flags to the Schenectady County Community College where I'll be moderating this election season's second-highest profile vice-presidential debate between veteran child actor Emmanuel Lewis and Trinity Broadcasting Network co-founder Jan Crouch. It's sure to be a revelatory look into the current political environment - talk about a roller coaster! Check your local listings.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Hokey Smoke!
You know that K. and I love to cook and when we throw a dinner party we try our best to plan a menu that is seasonal, varied, and fitting to the occasion at hand. While we won't be watching the vice-presidential debate tonight - unless our morbid curiosity gets the best of us - I know that many of you will be gathering with friends to watch the impending fiasco. I thought I'd share a recipe that will be completely appropriate for this evening's event. If it's as nice crisp autumn evening in your area as it is here then pull on a sweater and fire up the barbecue for this sure-to-please debate dinner! Bon apetite!
1 lb. moose tenderloin
1/2 tsp. ground thyme
1/4 tsp. ground nutmeg
1 tsp. black pepper
1/2 cup soy sauce
1 cup hickory chips
5 lb. of charcoal
blackberry sauce
parsley sprigs
radish rosettes
yellow squash slices
Mix thyme, nutmeg, pepper and soy sauce, and marinate moose tenderloin overnight in the refrigerator. Soak 1 cup of hickory chips in a bucket of water overnight. Build a fire in a covered barbecue grill using 5 lbs of charcoal. Allow the coals to burn for 30 minutes. If using a gas grill, preheat for 30 minutes. Scatter the soaked chips over the coals and close the lid for 10 minutes. Place the tenderloin on the grill and baste with the marinade, close the lid and cook for 10 minutes. Turn the tenderloin and baste again. Close the lid and cook for another 10 minutes. The meat should be slightly pink in the center and quite moist. Serve on a platter with Blackberry Sauce. Garnish with parsley sprigs, radish rosettes and yellow squash slices. Serves 2 to 4.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
F.D.A. Reform
Something you (probably) won't hear debated in this year's presidential race:
Candy corn pumpkins do not a lunch make.
Discuss.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Order In The Court
Greetings from the Queens County Supreme Court jury room. Lucky me got picked to sit here and play the waiting game. I had a great experience the last time I served jury duty, sitting for a murder trial, so I'm hoping I land something just as fascinating.
The only problem I have is the waiting. We had to be here at eight-thirty this morning and they have yet to summon any potential jurors for voir dire. Here's hoping the system speeds itself up soon.
I came armed with lots of t.v. shows on the iPod, two books, and my choir music to study. And thank god that I did because the television here in the waiting room is tuned to Rachel Ray, which means The View isn't far behind.
And for a system based on justice and due process that just seems like cruel and unusual punishment.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Sunday Summation #24
It was the breast of times, it was the wurst of times.
(Yes, I'm making chicken and sausage jambalaya tonight.)
Friday, September 26, 2008
A Letter
Dear Dad,
I talk to you every day but I don't know how often it gets through to you. I don't know where you are - you know that I'm not a big believer in God or heaven. But I am pretty sure that you are always around me; that your life force and energy surround me and light the way when times are tough. And when times are great I feel you here as if you are smiling over my shoulder.
It hasn't quite been two years since you left us. And Dad, I never wanted you to go but I so understood that you couldn't stay. Through all you had been through, the heart surgery and the back procedures and ultimately the leukemia, how could I ask you to stay when you were so tired? I am so glad that you got to let go and move on. I have to believe that the relief you got surpassed any grief we endured.
I know that you have been with us as we struggled to acclimate to your absence. We have had a tough go of it. I won't rehash the details - if you are with us then you've felt it. Not that I'm so presumptuous as to assume you've nothing better to do than stick around your dysfunctional descendants. I hope you're off exploring the farthest reaches of our universe and learning firsthand about the things we'd theorized and fantasized were true.
But, Dad, I wanted to let you know that we're okay. We had a rough few months, but lately I've seen a change. We are finally coming back to basics and realizing that we are a unit and depend on each other, for better or for worse. And I honestly believe we are on the road to better. I was so happy to see the progress made firsthand. We will be okay. And we will always have you with us.
I am rambling now, perhaps because I don't want to end this letter. I wish I could talk to you all night and feel your bear hug of comfort one more time. I wish I could let you go, but I think I also sort of have. I want you and your energy to move on. But I like knowing that I can summon your love and reasoning when I need it most.
I feel you most when I listen to music. I know we connected more in other ways when you were here with us. But you also know that music is the only way I can clearly express myself. Every nuance, subtlety, or change in my mood is best described in music. And whenever I hear a particular piece it embodies you so fully. You know which one it is. It came on the iPod, which is what prompted me to write this. I hope you don't mind that I associate that music with you. I rather think you'd be honored. I think of you holding me up in the sky, showing me all that is still here. You point out the good and the bad and instruct me as to how they tie together and are important. You show me the big picture.
You give me hope.
Thank you for being there for me when I need you. In the past, now, and always.
I love you.
Matt
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Is That $700B In Your Pocket, Or...
I'm not feeling well today. Been fighting a wee cold for a few days now and today's mix of decongestants and York Peppermint Patties are doing nothing to improve my mood.
Well, that's not entirely true. The drug/candy combo has made me slightly delirious and every time I read in the news that "Congress has a bailout plan" my mind turns it into "Congress has a balls-out plan" and then I imagine all of our elected officials in a big wood-paneled room having a circle jerk to see who can hit the face on a treasury note.
But then I suppose that's probably what happens at every session of Congress.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
The MAKchurian Candidate?
Last night in my heavy, NyQuil-induced slumber I had the following dream:
My big boss called my team into his office to tell us that they'd be restructuring and our services would no longer be needed. We had two weeks to wrap up our projects and be on our way.
The dream faded to a new scene. It appeared to be several days later and all of the employees were gathered around the large television monitor in the trading room. CNBC was reporting that my big boss and his entire family had been slaughtered in their secluded weekend getaway home. All eyes turned to my team. One of the traders informed us that we were prime suspects and that the FBI was waiting in a conference room to question us.
Fade to the conference room. We were sitting there trying to figure out what had happened when the door suddenly burst open. But instead of angry FBI agents rushing the room, Angela Lansbury walked in dressed like Marie Osmond in her Dancing With The Stars baby doll costume, carrying a cake with sparklers for candles and the words, "Happy Birthday MAK!" written in icing on the top. Everyone started to sing "Happy Birthday" and then I woke up.
What does it all mean?
