Worra Worra Worra

It's been a while since I added anything to the blog, and then it was pretty much just video links. And the reason is because I've been fretting. I've been anxious. I've been worried.

I'm feeling pretty good about Obama's likelihood of being elected. There's no real problem there for me. Unless something very extreme occurs in the next eight days, I think we have our new president. No, it's the Prop 8 thing that really has me torn. I keep trying to explain to people that it's like the state's having an election to see if I, personally, will remain married. Is it OK, California? We really love each other, and I don't know what I'm going to do if you say no to us and yes to Prop. 8.

This whole line of thought leaves me feeling very weak and vulnerable, and that makes me angry. I don't like feeling that way. I don't like feeling like other people have usurped power over me. But that's the position I'm in -- tens of thousands of people are in -- right now and we just have to wait for the vote.

No no no no no no no no no no no no. ...no no no no no no no no no no no no no no.

I hate accentuating the negative, but it is most necessary this week.

And since I don't have any photos to share this week, I offer another video, this one from Ron Howard, Andy Griffith and Henry Winkler:

See more Ron Howard videos at Funny or Die

And for those of you who haven't seen "The Landlord" yet, I'm including that, too. It has nothing to do with elections or personal rights and freedoms, but PEARL ROCKS!:

See more Will Ferrell videos at Funny or Die

And one more to get you to go to FunnyorDie.com and browse around.

See more Adam "Ghost Panther" McKay videos at Funny or Die

Sure Hope These Hit the Airwaves

Surfing the Internet for videos on Proposition 8 is interesting. There are dozens, if not hundreds of them, both for and against (lots and lots on YouTube). Most of the ones for Yes are pious (one is even fire and brimstone, suggesting that last years fires in May were because of the court ruling legalizing same-sex marriage).

Bill Maher said Obama vs. McCain was YouTube vs. feeding tube. How true.

This set is my favorite because they parody a set of ads (PC vs Mac) that are fun and that everyone is familiar with. Check 'em out:

Now, this concept is genius


It's fun and gets the IMPORTANT concepts across


And next to these, the "Yes" ads seems so rigid


And Margaret Cho explains it for the really stupid people


Can the message be any clearer? Pass this proposition and you are creating human rights exclusion in a constitutional document. Duh.

The Corruption and Demise of SharkBoy

We have an aquarium. Steve gave it to me as a birthday present a little over two years ago. As with most new aquarium owners, we went through our share of fish dying. Luckily, the downstairs bathroom is directly opposite the aquarium, so the fishy Viking funerals were short and sweet. I'd say perhaps half a dozen fish came and went until we got the tank truly stabilized and the fish population healthy.

As I said to Steve, the nice thing about owning fish is you don't get particularly attached to them as pets. You can't stroke them, they don't make noises at you and they don't blink or rub up against you. So when one of them just doesn't make it, it's not an emotional tribulation. And then there was SharkBoy.

SharkBoy was a Bala Shark, more correctly known as Balantiocheilos melanopterus. We didn't know a whole lot about him when we got him, just that he was nice and silvery and about an inch long. We added him to the tank and he grew...and grew...and grew. Here's a shot of the tank from about a year ago, with an inset of just how big SharkBoy had gotten.

At one point we had gotten five little neons, thinking to add a small school of fish to the tank. One by one they mysteriously disappeared. And SharkBoy got larger. And the larger he got, the more confining the tank space was, and the edgier he got. It is not true that fish stop growing if the tank is small. SharkBoy grew and as he began to feel claustrophobic, he took to leaping out of the water and banging up against the glass top of the aquarium.

Recently, SharkBoy had dominated the tank, both visually and societally. We had a couple algae-eaters that just disappeared, and it's not like they can use a secret passage to escape from the tank. There was only one place they could go. We went to the aquarium store and asked if they would take SharkBoy back and resell him. They said no. We were stuck with him.

Then, last Saturday, Steve was checking for the two new algae-eaters he had purchased. They had large, splayed heads that would not easily fit down SharkBoy's gullet. We found the first one, but the second one, or shall I say the remains of the second one, half-eaten, were floating near the filter intake. More fleshy remnants waved among the plant leaves. A line had been crossed. We both knew it, though neither of us spoke a word.

Steve got out the net and opened the top of the tank. As he placed the net in, SharkBoy leapt up and over, falling six feet down onto the landing of the garage stairs then flopped, Slinky-like, stair by stair, ending next to the catbox. Steve flew down the stairs, got SharkBoy securely in the net and brought him up, where we took him to the bathroom, ready for his execution. Steve plopped him in the toilet and flushed.

But SharkBoy was just too damn big. He did not go easily into the whirlpool of death. I slammed the lid as he flopped and jumped. It was something from the Twilight Zone, this thing knocking against the toilet seat while we waited for the tank to refill. I got a plastic bag, put it over my hand and flipped open the lid. I pushed down, confining SharkBoy to the bottom of the bowl and flushed. I held the bag in place while the tank refilled. I flushed again. I removed the bag as the tank refilled a third time, then I flushed once more. All was peaceful.

Then, as I pulled the bag off my hand, from the corner of my eye I saw his head re-emerge in the bowl. "Oh, shit!" I screamed, "He's back!" I put the bag back on my hand, grabbed SharkBoy firmly around the body, inverted the bag and tied him inside and into the trash he went. I told Steve, "If you hear some flopping around in the kitchen, just ignore it." His response was, "I think I'll take the trash out."

Neither of us felt good about what we did, but it was a matter of reclaiming the aquarium. We're planning on getting some schooling fish now, little ones, that will bring back the peaceful and calming experience of watching a miniature underwater world in the living room. Rest in Peace, SharkBoy, you pushy little bastard.

In preparing the above photo for this confession/exposé, I checked online, and it turns out that, in their native Thailand, fish like SharkBoy are good eatin' fish. And damn if SharkBoy wouldn't have filled a small bun once he was filleted. But I don't think I want to consider the trauma of that experience.

Election Embedding

Here are two really good skits from Saturday Night Live. Enjoy.

A real blog entry follows soon.

The Stupidest Show on Television

Gosh. That's a tough one. It's hard to say. First of all, there's "Hole in the Wall" on Fox, which is hosted by the weatherman from Fox's L.A. station. People dress in silver lamé body suits and attempt to pass through holes in a moving wall. Almost as thrilling as "Deal or No Deal," where people pick numbers on attache cases that are then opened revealing another number which is more interesting since it's dollars.

Then there's "The Real McCains." It started out ludicrous, then it got tasteless, now it's just sad to watch. Worse, nearly half those viewing don't see the shameless farce unfolding in front of their faces, but think it's compelling drama. Let's cross our fingers and hope this one gets canceled in early November. Here's a shot from the show that kind of looks like "THX 1138," don't you think?

We're all waiting around for "The Wall Street Bailout" to run its course. That one's kind of like "Deal or No Deal," except they're playing with our money. It was supposed to be over in a week, but got picked up for another week because its numbers were so compelling.

Those from California who read this tome have probably run across the Yes on Prop 8 ad that's been running recently. And running. And running. And running. It has Gavin Newsom being his usual obnoxious self, and then intimates that, if the proposition does not pass, queers are gonna sue you for believing they're inferior; your churches will be taken over by queers, queers will control everything and children will be taught that queer marriage is just as good as real marriage. Queers. Queers queers queers. STRIKE BACK!

Why are they so threatened?

And the amazing thing is these people don't think their attitudes are bigoted, or they are working HARD to make others second-class citizens. They are totally convinced they are doing the right thing; what God wants. What would Jesus do? (He'd kick ass on these queers, that's what he'd do!) How do you try to alter that kind of mindset? I think it's probably much easier to just wait for them to die. As far as this picture goes, I found it online, I'm not sure where it's from, but I wanted to let everyone know that there are some Republicans who know how to treat a female impersonator.

You may recall that my brother Stephen [May 2, 2008] said this blog needed more meaningful content rather than simply being a diary style of writing. Perhaps it's because my daily life is so boring, or perhaps because we are living in really exciting times right now, but I note that the entries have become biting and opinionated over the last few months. Whaddayathink? It certainly is more fun to write.