Lethal Carnage: Guns, Politics, Victims and The American Way

Victims of the Tuscon, Arizona rampage.

There are some things that are just too hard to swallow. On January 8th in Tucson, Arizona, a clearly deranged 22-year old, Jared Loughner, purchased ammunition from a Walmart, took a taxi to a Safeway supermarket where a political meet-and-greet was being staged by U.S. Representative Gabrielle Giffords, and then opened fire on Giffords and her constituents because ... he wasn't happy with her response to a question of his at a previous political rally. The incident left 14 wounded and 6 people dead, including a judge and 9-year old Christina Green.

Yes, there are some things that are hard to swallow. One such being that "we the people" of the United States have brains. This is obviously not the case because we continue to allow gun-related tragedies to occur. Really, it pains to me write this, because I would like to believe that despite soaring crime, violence, racism, and politically correct intolerance we are a nation of humane, rational, peace loving people. I would like to believe that Michael Moore was wrong in his depiction of us in his film "Bowling for Columbine" as phobic gun loving sheep willing to be brain washed by political rhetoric, big business and organized religion. I would like to believe that lessons have been learned in the wake of the horrific tragedy this past week in Tucson, Arizona. But, you know what? I'm wrong on all counts: None of the above is correct.

The argument on gun ownership should be a moot point. It's not. Can someone please explain how many more dead 9-year olds we need before we realize that guns have no place in our society?

This is NOT for hunting.

I'll be honest with you all here; I'm not interested in political rhetoric. I'm not interested in being engaged in discussion on the issue. I'm not willing to debate to this issue and have no interest in varying interpretations of the Constitution. I AM interested that in the United States on average, there are 30,000 gun-related deaths. I AM interested that a 9-year old was killed last week. I AM interested that our Freedom of Assembly cannot be enjoyed because of GUN NUTS and our insipid GUN LAWS (or a lack thereof)!

Trust me, I'm LESS worried about the sudden uprising of a tyrannical government here in the United States. I'm MORE worried about the possibility of having my head blown off at the local supermarket or 7-11.

Loughner purchased a Glock 9mm handgun at a Sportsman's Warehouse. Such a gun is not used for hunting. In fact, the gun used in the shooting held a clip with 31 rounds -more than triple the normal capacity of this gun's magazine. A "federal assault weapons ban" established by the Clinton administration in 1994, prohibited such magazines for this gun that held more than 10 rounds. The Bush administration purposely let the ban expire. It didn't happen by accident, it happened on purpose compliments of the same presidential administration that sent almost 20,000 Americans to their deaths in Iraq.

Jared Lee Loughner

In the United States, federal law only prohibits the sale of firearms to those who have been convicted of a felony or to anyone who has been "adjudicated as a mental defective". Of course the implementation of this law varies somewhat from state to state, thus illegitimizing the term "United States". After posting a Youtube video claiming that the school acted in violation of the U.S. Constitution, Loughner was denied further attendance at Pima Community College until the school received medical proof that he was not a threat to himself or others. He also had a prior arrest record.

Loughner was clearly deranged. His school knew it, his friends knew it, the local police knew it, and he pretty much made it publicly known via his ranting and raving internet posts on his MySpace and Youtube accounts (et al). Nevertheless, he was easily able to purchase the gun and ammunition since Uncle Sam apparently didn't know it and obviously could care less about what everyone else knows. So it was just another case of "hey, let's give the boy a gun" and ask questions later - as in good old American tradition espoused by the National Rifle Association (NRA) and many Libertarians and Tea Party members. 

Something is wrong in America: we seek to ban toys from McDonalds' Happy Meals to protect our 9-year olds' health, but then we also sell at Walmart and places like Sportsman's Warehouse 10-round clips for about 40 dollars to anyone who wants them. No questions asked.

Westboro Baptist Church

This sad commentary on our society gets worse. In Arizona, the legislature was spurred to sign emergency legislation baring protests within 300 feet of a funeral and within an hour from its beginning or end. All because a church group claimed it would picket the funeral of 9-year old Christina Green and the other the shooting victims. Yes, in the name of God, these fervent zealots regularly stage protests at funerals of homosexuals, AIDS victims and in some cases, even soldiers and shooting victims. Their website, http://www.godhatesfags.com/, sports deplorable rhetoric including endearing mantras such as "God hates America", "God sent the shooter!" and "Praise God for ALL his works, and BE YE THANKFUL!" Yes, another twisted case of praise God and pass the ammunition... sort of what Sarah Palin ("don't retreat, RELOAD") stands for.

In light of the above and at risk of writing something sounding like the fevered ramblings of the shooter, I feel implored to say that once again our government and society has failed us. Moreover, the media and our political parties, rife with political rhetoric, have done nothing but conflagarate things. The argument that political debate has become too heated, and that it possibly played a role in the mindset of the shooter, is not only valid statement, it's also an understatement.

Once upon a time we had politicians and journalists. Today we have political personalities and news analysts, and the line between journalism and entertainment has become blurred. What's more convoluted is that under the guise of "fair and balanced" journalism we allow political buffoons to sling around gun metaphors and war mongering labels such as "traitor" and "treason" only to incite hatred and violence against those with opposing political views. Some are vehemently engaged in emotional terrorism by politically and anally labeling of all things these days: conservative, liberal, ultra-conservative, Democrat, Republican, Libertarian, vegetarian, etc. Lord, things were so much simpler when all we had to worry about were the communists!

It should be obvious that politicians and political pundits should educate, not incite hatred. Nor should they be allowed to pervert the news media to brainwash the public and spawn hate-mongering followers. But then again, as I mentioned above, history lessons, such as one from Nazi, Germany, have not been learned. It's mind blowing and it's ponderous to me ... but for people like Rupert Murdoch, owner of FOX News, it's great entertainment and good ratings.

Yes, the argument on gun ownership should be a moot point, at this point.

There is no justification for 30,000 annual gun-related deaths.

There is no justification for the gun-related death of a 9-year old.

Real CHANGE in American is needed, not more political rhetoric.

PS. Thanks for reading. If you feel like me, please do something about this. Enough is enough. Please visit the Brady Campaign at: www.bradycampaign.org/

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Another Radio Accident - Neil Rogers (1942-2010)



Neil Rogers (R) and the "Bird" (L)

 One of the opening scenes of the movie "The Boat That Rocked" is a little British boy, in 1966, going to bed listening to a little muffled portable transistor radio tucked under his pillow, enthralled to the sounds of devilish delights in the form of Rock and Roll. The scene took me way back to my youth. I could relate to a point, for somewhere, somewhere way across the pond, I too went to bed with a little transistor radio tucked under my pillow listening to the same rhythmic art of the muses that breathed life into me. However, as Judd Jugmonger would say, I didn't know no nothin' 'bout no devil.

Now, Anita Bryant, a former Oklahoma beauty queen and fundamentalist gay rights basher would most likely say that the devil eventually made his way to South Florida some years later and raised his ugly head in the form of Jim Morrison's member.... which of course she never really saw, nor did anyone else for that matter. She, a spokeswoman for the Florida Citrus Commission and yelper of "breakfast without orange juice is like a day without sunshine" nevertheless, spearheaded a smear campaign and decency rally against the Lizard King. Six warrants on obscenity charges were issued for Jim Morrison. Despite a lack of evidence, a jury eventually convicted Morrison of only two misdemeanors of indecent exposure and open profanity. It was a crock; there was never any cock.

Anita Bryant (Pie in the face compliments of a gay activitst)

A few years later in 1977, the citrus queen, turned sour again in light of a local ordinance in Dade County, Florida, that prohibited discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation. Although Anita Bryant successfully campaigned to repeal the ordinance, her crusade against homosexuals eventually brought on the demise of her own career... but it also gave rise to a new voice in South Florida; a deliciously devilish voice that would go onto rule the radio airwaves for almost 30 years. Today, that enlightened acerbic voice is best known as Uncle Neil, Neil "God", and a variety of other terms of endearment. Last week, Neil Rogers, an iconic radio personality that both shocked and amused, passed away. Today, I'm eulogizing him.

In 1977, in response to Anita Bryant's crusade against homosexuals, this topical talk show host, boldly announced one morning over the air that he was gay. I heard it on the radio. His self-outing shocked the locals, and I'm sure many tuned in just to "monitor" his broadcasts. I, no doubt like others, tuned in to hear the truth about the town and times we lived in. He encouraged us to think, and later he encouraged us to laugh.

Back in those days, I listened to the radio a lot, but it wasn't just music I listed to, it was Talk Radio. You see, I skipped school a lot, thanks to allergies and an over-protective mother. Hey, it was easy to confuse an allergy with a cold. Anyway, music on AM radio was dying, but News and Talk Radio was thriving. With the exception of FM radio statoin Zeta-4 that played progressive rock, most other FM radio stations in the Miami market played disco and repetitive top 40 crap. When I wanted light rock I'd listen to WGBS 710 on the AM dial. Mainly, I played my records, listened to Zeta-4 from time to time and learned to play guitar. Still, I wanted to be informed and was yearning for the education I wasn't getting in religious private school, so I read the newspaper and listened to talk radio.

My father got me into listening to talk radio and I remember listening to Neil when he started working at WKAT. He had something to say and he said in an interesting way that made me stop and think. Now the truth was, I was enamored of his colleague Craig Worthing at the time, because hey, let's be honest, Craig was funnier. Neil's shows, like most of talk radio at that time, were about serious topical topics back then, serving the interests of the terminally retired folks that populated South Florida, or as Neil would say, "God's Waiting Room". Guests included boring authors of coffee table book that even today Barnes and Nobel couldn't give away, and doctors dispensing advice on the buoyancy of turds. Senior citizens would chronically call in to complain about life and the young, to reminisce about their use of mothballs up north, or to seek advice concerning how much Feldene they were prescribed by their doctors. It was terminal and coma inducing radio... but Neil always had a way of adding an element of surrealness to break up the monotonous drone of his guests and callers; he would debate them in sincere, and expose them for who they were.

At some point, Neil began opening his shows with diatribes about the state of things locally. He would rant and rave, bang his fist and shock the bejesus out of me! He would mock our daily existence and implore us to "wake up!". In retrospect, Jim Morrison sort of did the same thing with his poetry and stage antics. Neil was brilliant and dead on. He was "absolutely correct, sir" about everything. It was mind blowing. It was controversial and intriguing ... and it was also comical. It was great radio. It was great theatre for the mind and certainly theatre of the absurd - and trust me, Miami, was and still is absurdity's playground.

From self serving hypocrites, corrupt politicians, nazi highway patrolmen, proselytizing pedophiles to geriatric old farts who stole silverware and packages of "Sweet n' Low" at Wolfie's or Pumperdink's Restaurant (homes of the pandering "Early Bird" specials), no one was safe from Neil's barbs, not even himself. He was a self described "fat, balding, Jewish homosexual". He was a gay who hated gay activists. He was an atheist who hated organized religion but didn't shirk from embracing (and lambasting) his Jewish culture to some extent. Neil taught me it was ok, and maybe even therapeutic, to be self-effacing, but also to be self-embracing, if not self-righteous at the time. Most of all, he taught me to speak up, be assertive, and at the same time, not to take things so seriously. I learned it was ok to be me, at a time in my life when I was expected to be something else. Religion admonished me to be self-nullifying; Neil taught me to just be comfortable in my own skin.

Eventually Neil, blew off topical radio and his mind numbing guests, as well as the many chronic callers he had. He blazed his own path in comedic farce, albeit what some might call shock radio. His ratings were astronomical. He was politically incorrect and still politically correct for doing so. When he wasn't calling out those who deserved to be called out, he played comedy bits that were rude, crude and lewd - and still, his audience grew. He pulled no punches and most listeners got his shtick and loved him for it - but others still did not - especially those chronic and pretentious sour faced bile filled "douche bags" who regularly monitored him, and would eventually call-in claiming to have inadvertently tuned in, feigning a "radio accident", and being shocked that "this sort of filth" is allowed on the air. These were the types who, as Neil would say, just couldn't turn his show off and would get a sexual thrill from just tuning in in order to fume, seethe and writhe their hands. Yes, many people as such tried to get him off the air, even the city government of Hallandale, they didn't succeed. When he "retired" in 2009, he was the highest-paid radio entertainer in South Florida. He may have earned an estimated $1 million per year in salary, but he was one in a million and worth every penny.

Growing up, I can't remember a time when there wasn't a radio on somewhere in the background. Radio was everywhere it seemed in those days. You could find it at home, at work, in the car and even outside in your hand (and the radio, too! - as Neil was wont to say). And, all through the years it seemed Neil was there, too. Being a long time listener, an admirer, a fan and admitted life long "Neily", I eventually took his best advice "to get the hell out of South Florida". I currently live in Greece. Ok, maybe I went a bit too far ... but I'm sure Neil would tell me "not far enough".

Rest in peace, Neil. Thanks for "mammaries". Yes, it was only a radio show, but you will be missed ... you bastard!

PS. Thanks for reading. If you were also a "Neily", leave me a comment. And, if you would like to do something in Neil's honor, make a donation (as per Neil's website) to: Abandoned Pet Rescue, Inc. 

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Suggested Reading:

http://www.neilrogers.com/

I think, therefore I am distracted.

Photo source

More than occasionally, I get distracted by things I take more than a passing interest in. I'm working and then somehow "tele-pathetically", my attention and thoughts have been teleported to some obscure webpage which I micromanaging my way through. It just takes one stray thought to hijack my stream of consciousness. It could be about something trivial I read in the news that morning, or something profound I thought about the day before, or even something ethereal I dreamed about ... or daydreamed about. Whatever it is, I pursue this new found interest with behemoth vehemence, almost as if I'm championing some cause.

It could be, I think, a coping mechanism of some sorts that I inherited genetically from my father. You see, he was a real estate appraiser, and a reformed mathematician. Half the day he spent driving around different neighborhoods looking at "comparables" (houses that had previously sold) and trying hard not to look like he was casing said neighborhoods for a future home invasion scheme. The other half of the day he would write up his appraisal reports: monotonous long and short forms to be completed with data and figures that mortgage lenders would eventually rip borrowers off with. When completing such forms, my father needed distraction to break up the stress of monotony. If at home or at the office, he'd listen to talk or sports radio. Usually though, he liked to sit at busy places so he could  look up at the all the hustle and bustle and watch people and the world go by. Really! You'd find him sitting at a mall, at the airport, in a hotel lobby, etc. Had Starbucks been around when he was working he most likely would have been a fixture. He had an active mind... so he needed distraction. I'm pretty much the same way ... (pensive pregnant pause entered here) ... though most likely due to the raging modicum of my mom in me as well, I fear that a small part of my willingness and penchant to be distracted might also betray a much needed break from reality.

Ok, so I'm not a real estate appraiser, I'm a ........ well let's just say I do a lot creative things that tax my mind, like writing. And, when my work involves deadlines then I'm doubly stressed. So mental vacations are all the rage in my little cognitive world.

I've often wondered whether perhaps these mental jaunts might be symptomatic of some form of attention deficit disorder. Some politically correct pseudo-intellectuals might nod their collective heads and term it an ability to multitask. Thanks, and it sounds nice, but you and I both know the truth: there's only one thing on my mind at a time, along with a nagging elfin voice booming "hey, aren't you supposed to be...". Yes, I know better, but it appears I care less.

To make maters worse, I'm a chronic procrastinator. Yes, he the artistic, creative and mentally uptight laid back one procrastinates. Don't ask me why, it's just a state of mind and old coping mechanisms die hard. It's ok, I admit it, and it's a problem, I know it. It's something I need to address, and I will... eventually.

They say that procrastinators often do so because they have a deep rooted fear of failure. Perfectionists by nature, they procrastinate to avoid completing a task so that their effort won't be judged negatively should not it fare well and yield shouts of "glory be!". Having rather inflated egos and an overconfident, albeit ludicrous, sense of their abilities, they procrastinate so they may feign the excuse "oh well, if I had had enough time to complete the job, I would have defied expectation. What a pity we ran out of time".

Another thorn in my foot's arch is that most of my work is computer based ... and most of my interests are Internet based. The plethora (there's a word that should scare you all!) of available information on the Internet, both relevant and irrelevant, makes these mental excursions of mine tantamount to searches for the holy grail; they never end. I'm always searching for that one more piece of elusive information that will satiate my appetite and return me back to my work and reality. And, just like Muddy Waters, "I can't be satisfied".

Ok, I'm not a perfectionist and I'm not lazy. I'm not bored with my work and I'm not "above all this". What I am is a dreamer. 12 school years of looking out the window will do that for you. I should research things for a living. I'm good at the finding the needle in the haystack. I enjoy the trip. It's inane, I know. But, at least, thank god, I don't do Farmville!

PS. Thanks for reading. If any of you all can relate, share your thoughts, leave a message and I'll get back to you when I return.

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Yesterday, I ate meat!

Yesterday, I ate like a pig. I mean, really, what's the point of starting a diet without having a last hurrah? In a similar vein, what the point in making New Year's resolutions without breaking one right from the get go? Given the choice between bacon and eggs versus a banana and tea is a no brainer - and on New Year's Day of all days. I reckoned that my gastronomically poor choice of breakfast items could be justified in my delighting deliriously in the sheer amusement of knowing I was still just a non-conformist at heart. Principles trump resolutions. By the way, I ate the banana, too.

 Yesterday's menu included roasted chicken and potatoes, honey glazed ham, cornbread stuffing (from scratch!), candied yams, green bean almondine with bacon and red peppers, and carrot cake. All washed down with leftover Martini & Rossi Asti Spumante. I decided not to make pumpkin pie as that would have been excess. Didn't want to send the wrong message to our guests.

Yesterday was yesterday; today is today. I took one of those purple pills for indigestion and began my diet in earnest. Despite the come hither beckoning of some garlic and chives cheese spread, I revelled in my banana and tea. Hooray! Soon, I'll take a healthy stroll down the waterfront. I'll walk as far as the local Starbucks and resist the taunting temptation of a Toffee Nut Latte with Caramel Syrup and Whipped Cream - and be proud of myself for doing so! You all should be proud of me, too, for such intestinal fortitude does not come easy to weak willed lovers of comfort food. After all, what's the point of being a non-conformist if you have to conform to your own principles all the time?

Yesterday was nice, but thank God for January 2nd!

God speed to you all.

PS. Thanks for reading. What resolutions did you break and how quickly did you break them? Let me know. There's strength in numbers.

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