Mashed Potatoes Should Not Be Viscous

Thanksgiving turned out to be everything that it promised to be…and more. A brief synopsis of each stop follows.

First and foremost my most heartfelt thanks goes to those who so graciously opened their homes to me. Its true, I am transplanted from the left to the right. Holidays always present me with a dilemma. Do I stay in and mope or go out and join someone else's holiday festivities. Going somewhere else is always slightly strange to me; I've got some strange issue. Lucky for me, this holiday, I conquered them and was able to metabolize a pumpkin. Here is the truth of the matter about what follows: I am a sardonic jack-ass who somehow fails to convey the breadth of appreciation for my friends and how they take care of me...especially on holidays and days ending in y.

I: I have not eaten that much in quite some time. We get to the house; the driveway is filled with Benzes and Escalades, and walk inside. Immediately, my ears are overtaken by the cacophony coming from the makeshift dining room—the sound of family was refreshing. On a side note I rue the day when the whole of the B__ family has spouses and childs and gets together for a family meal. The feast was simply marvelous and never seemed to end. I am not surprised that the food was so good though, they owned a small deli in town. Unfortunately we had to leave and move on to the next place, where the fun was really about to start.

J: I did not even make it in the front door. As soon as we arrived the theme for the rest of the day became evident and how trite it was—I was from ‘the’ O.C. I walked through the front door, was accosted by an obviously inebriated man and promptly introduced to everyone as J__’s law school friend, “you know he’s from the O.C.? Really, I love the O.C.” I moved across the country in small part to leave that place…it seems to keep following me.

J.2: I was warned prior to our arrival at Cousin X’s house that the food would be bad. Indeed, I was warned weeks ahead of time when the invitation to give thanks was first extended. I had no idea. Part of the reason I accepted this invitation, amongst the thousands received, was in no small part to see what a Mexican-Jewish thanksgiving feast looked like. I admit that my eyes wanted to see what it looked like more than my mouth wanted to know what it tasted like. The appetizers were simply beyond the pale—so far beyond that I couldn’t even be polite and attempt a bite. Thank god for the excuse of being too full from the prior glorious feast. Let me explain these appetizers if I may. Keep in mind that I’m the most Mexican in the place. What I believe was guacamole, looked more like pond scum. There was the introduction of a ‘new’ appetizer, which was introduced with great aplomb, The Chicken Quesadilla. I ask you all to picture if you will a triangle of blackened flour tortilla, held together with a piece of chicken leg meat, a strand of jack, and something translucent. There were also a variety of Tex-Mex looking dishes that also were quite appealing.

J.3: The main course. I have to admit I was somewhat disappointed. I was told that the main course would be Mexican themed as well. Alas, it was not. Traditional Thanksgiving dishes swept the day. Truth be told I was satiated, but in an attempt to be polite, I intended to eat some more. I picked up a plate and the first thing I encountered was the mashed potato. I think that it is fairly well accepted by most non-culinary geniuses that the production of the dish called the mashed potato is not terribly difficult. Indeed, I’d venture to say that it is a staple dish across the United States and the world which most households have no difficulty making. Cousin X’s household is not such a household. Mashed potatoes should not be viscous. They should not be pureed. But they were and they set the tone for the rest of my plate. As I finished making my way around the buffet island and headed toward my seat. I looked down at my plate and laughed on the inside. I had plated the meal in a manner reminiscent of some type of haute cuisine tasting plate—small silver dollar size medallions of everything dotted the plate. I sat an intimate table and the company was good. I removed my napkin from its ring and unfolded it. I love it when the white linen has brown stains all over. I was so excited to clean my lips with that sparkling piece of fabric. I took a bite of the mashed potatoes for the elderly…and almost vomited. Now, I’m discerning when it comes to food, but will try anything and can usually put on a good face in the name of etiquette. Not this night. The few at the table laughed and inquired why I was eating, we went to the Italians to eat, and we were here to make an appearance. I reverted to childhood and followed their example. I moved all the food around on the plate and crumbled the piece of hard tack. The meal was complete.

Mini-Js: We left the house of Cousin X and proceeded toward the final stop of the evening, picking up friends of J__ along the way. We arrived and entered. I immediately felt as if I was in the Semitic munchkin world. It was scary how diminutive the crowd was. I mingled briefly and found myself at the end of a very long table, opposite someone who I conversated with. She stood on the other side of the table and was first in a long line of people on the other side of the table, none of whom were listening to our conversation.

Mini-Js.2: That is until the theme for the evening reared its ugly head. Just as I thought I was going to get out of the conversation, the dreaded question came, “Where are you from?” I contemplated lying and wish I did. In the future, I am going to tell my story. I was an orphan abandoned in the streets of Quito by my missionary parents who became disillusioned with the apostles creed and became smack addicts. I was raised by a pack of traveling homeless and by the age of nine had seen the whole of South America, sans the Falklands. I was kidnapped around the age of eleven by the galley mate of a Chilean tortoise boat. I traveled the high seas until my early teens learning the trade of fine sea cuisine for the most refined of connoisseurs. During one particularly obscene tempest we were carried off course and ended up somewhere along the Pacific coast near Victoria, B.C. It was there that the greatest water spot in human history struck our tiny vessel and carried me off, eventually it struck land and tore a swath through Western Canada, finally and miraculously depositing me in Winnipeg. There I lived on the streets and working in a used book store. I read voraciously and soon was holding lectures on a weekly basis on a variety of issues from home-building to Zoroastrian theology. A lesbian couple adopted me prior to my 18th birthday, gave me a place to live and sponsored my asylum claim. Upon completion of university I discovered who my birth parents were, used them to become a U.S. citizen and eventually left the confines of Winnipeg for the big city.

Mini-Js.3: Alas, I told the truth, I am from California. And the nightmare began. This paragraph is too long. Just as I finished the telling of my story, the woman adjacent to the one whom I was speaking to picked up on the O.C. part and exclaimed, “I’ve been to the O.C.” Great, like I give a fuck, but let me indulge you for moment, for the sake of etiquette. I told the story again. Then, out of nowhere the scene repeated itself. The man next to her at the end of our conversation, “Oh, I’ve been to California once.” Great, good for you, I’ve been to Cheyenne, Wyoming once but you don’t see me interrupting conversations to announce to the crowd where my various travels have taken me. But again, I’ll indulge. By now the peanut gallery is paying attention and starting to chuckle, later they would break out into whole-hearted guffaws. The scene and conversation must have repeated itself at least six times…it was interminable. Thankfully, we left, I was exhausted.

I had a blast and likely won’t be doing it again, but the day gave me memories and stories for a lifetime.

Also, don’t steal my life story when you don’t want to tell someone where you are from.

Of Japanese Gangsters and rice wine.

May I enter?

The air is beginning to chill and tomorrow is the Thanksgiving holiday. I anticipate it to be most entertaining and will offer up a full report whenever I find the time.

Finals are rapidly approaching and worry is settling in to its comfortable place at the bottom of my feet. So in honor of the rapidly approaching nonsense I took to the couch today. I have enjoyed every moment of this silence.

When I lived by myself I lacked a television. I learned to like it. I now am in the presence of the television perpetually. It scares me. While being a fantastic piece of human technology, I now live with the well founded fear that it will one day kill me. It doesn’t like to be off and it is not easily manipulated. Somehow human relationships are sometimes easier. Why do the inconsequential attempt to forcibly make themselves relevant? I just want to be let alone to wander the quiet of my mind.

THE US CONSTITUTION, THE BIBLE AND GOD'S ETERNAL LAW

Dear President Bush,


Thank you for reminding us to obey God's Law. I have
learned a great deal from you and understand why you
support a constitutional amendment to ban same-sex
marriage. As you said, "In the eyes of God marriage is
based between a man a woman."

I try to share your knowledge with as many people as I
can. When someone tries to defend homosexual
relationships, I simply remind them that Leviticus
18:22 clearly states it to be an abomination. End of
debate.

I do need some advice from you, however, regarding
some other elements of God's Law and how to follow
them.

1. Leviticus 25:44 states that I may possess slaves, both
male and female, provided they are purchased from
neighboring nations. A friend of mine claims that this
applies to Mexicans, but not Canadians. Can you
clarify? Why can't I own Canadians?

2. I would like to sell my daughter into slavery, as
sanctioned in Exodus 21:7. In this day and age, what
do you think would be a fair price for her?

3. I know that I am allowed no contact with a woman
while she is in her period of menstrual uncleanness -
Lev. 15:19-24. The problem is how do I tell? I have
tried asking, but most women take offense.

4. When I burn a bull on the altar as a sacrifice, it
creates a pleasing odor for the Lord - Lev.1:9. The
problem is with my neighbors. They claim the odor is
not pleasing to them. Should I smite them?

5. I have a neighbor who insists on working on the
Sabbath. Exodus 35:2 clearly states he should be put
to death. Am I morally obligated to kill him myself,
or should I ask the police to do it?

6. A friend of mine feels that even though eating
shellfish is an abomination - Lev. 11:10, it is a
lesser abomination than homosexuality. I don't agree.
Can you settle this? Are there 'degrees' of
abomination?

7. Lev. 21:20 states that I may not approach the altar
of God if I have a defect in my sight. I have to admit
that I wear reading glasses. Does my vision have to be
20/20, or is there some wiggle-room here?

8. Most of my male friends get their hair trimmed,
including the hair around their temples, even though
this is expressly forbidden by Lev. 19:27. How should
they die?

9. I know from Lev. 11:6-8 that touching the skin of a
dead pig makes me unclean, but may I still play
football if I wear gloves?

10. My uncle has a farm. He violates Lev. 19:19 by
planting two different crops in the same field, as
does his wife by wearing garments made of two
different kinds of thread (cotton/polyester blend). He
also tends to curse and blaspheme a lot. Is it really
necessary that we go to all the trouble of getting the
whole neighborhood together to stone them? Lev.
24:10-16. Couldn't we just burn them to death at a
private family affair, like we do with people who
sleep with their in-laws? (Lev. 20:14)

11. I would like to take on a second wife and maybe a
few concubines, if I can scrape enough money together.
Are you proposing an amendment to ban compulsory
monogamy?

I know you have studied these things extensively and
thus possess considerable expertise in such matters,
so I am confident you can help. Thank you again for
reminding us that God's word is eternal and
unchanging, and that our constitution and laws ought
to enforce it.

Sincerely,

Joe Christian-American

PS: Do you know where I can get a used Mexican cheap?
(Lev. 25:44)

hehe

"The Republican National Committee announced today that the Republican Party is changing its emblem from an elephant to a condom. Marc Racicot, RNC National Chairman, explained that the condom more clearly reflects the party's stance today because a condom accepts inflation, halts production, destroys the next generation, protects a bunch of pricks, and gives you a sense of security while you're actually getting screwed."

Good Riddance

Later Ashcroft--you screwed up this country more than anyone could have imagined

Voting Without the Facts

November 8, 2004
OP-ED CONTRIBUTOR
Voting Without the Facts
By BOB HERBERT

he so-called values issue, at least as it's being popularly tossed around, is overrated.

Last week's election was extremely close and a modest shift in any number of factors might have changed the outcome. If the weather had been better in Ohio. ...If the wait to get into the voting booth hadn't been so ungodly long in certain Democratic precincts. ... Or maybe if those younger voters had actually voted. ...

I think a case could be made that ignorance played at least as big a role in the election's outcome as values. A recent survey by the Program on International Policy Attitudes at the University of Maryland found that nearly 70 percent of President Bush's supporters believe the U.S. has come up with "clear evidence" that Saddam Hussein was working closely with Al Qaeda. A third of the president's supporters believe weapons of mass destruction were found in Iraq. And more than a third believe that a substantial majority of world opinion supported the U.S.-led invasion.

This is scary. How do you make a rational political pitch to people who have put that part of their brain on hold? No wonder Bush won.

The survey, and an accompanying report, showed that there's a fair amount of cluelessness in the ranks of the values crowd. The report said, "It is clear that supporters of the president are more likely to have misperceptions than those who oppose him."

I haven't heard any of the postelection commentators talk about ignorance and its effect on the outcome. It's all values, all the time. Traumatized Democrats are wringing their hands and trying to figure out how to appeal to voters who have arrogantly claimed the moral high ground and can't stop babbling about their self-proclaimed superiority. Potential candidates are boning up on new prayers and purchasing time-shares in front-row-center pews.

A more practical approach might be for Democrats to add teach-ins to their outreach efforts. Anything that shrinks the ranks of the clueless would be helpful.

If you don't think this values thing has gotten out of control, consider the lead paragraph of an op-ed article that ran in The LA. Times on Friday. It was written by Frank Pastore, a former major league pitcher who is now a host on the Christian talk-radio station KKLA.

"Christians, in politics as in evangelism," said Mr. Pastore, "are not against people or the world. But we are against false ideas that hold good people captive. On Tuesday, this nation rejected liberalism, primarily because liberalism has been taken captive by the left. Since 1968, the left has taken millions captive, and we must help those Democrats who truly want to be free to actually break free of this evil ideology."

Mr. Pastore goes on to exhort Christian conservatives to reject any and all voices that might urge them "to compromise with the vanquished." How's that for values?

In The New York Times on Thursday, Richard Viguerie, the dean of conservative direct mail, declared, "Now comes the revolution." He said, "Liberals, many in the media and inside the Republican Party, are urging the president to 'unite' the country by discarding the allies that earned him another four years."

Mr. Viguerie, it is clear, will stand four-square against any such dangerous moves toward reconciliation.

You have to be careful when you toss the word values around. All values are not created equal. Some Democrats are casting covetous eyes on voters whose values, in many cases, are frankly repellent. Does it make sense for the progressive elements in our society to undermine their own deeply held beliefs in tolerance, fairness and justice in an effort to embrace those who deliberately seek to divide?

What the Democratic Party needs above all is a clear message and a bold and compelling candidate. The message has to convince Americans that they would be better off following a progressive Democratic vision of the future. The candidate has to be a person of integrity capable of earning the respect and the affection of the American people.

This is doable. Al Gore and John Kerry were less than sparkling candidates, and both came within a hair of defeating Mr. Bush.

What the Democrats don't need is a candidate who is willing to shape his or her values to fit the pundits' probably incorrect analysis of the last election. Values that pivot on a dime were not really values to begin with.

Copyright 2004 The New York Times Company

The boredom, dejection and confusion….

I’m sitting here in my international law class. I can’t begin to tell you how boring it is today. The professor is reading, verbatim, the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, article by article. So I figured I’d take this time to come out of the woodwork.

The last six days have been quite sad—the elephant is now hurtling, out of control, towards the edge of the precipice. The peoples of jesusland have spoken and it is now squarely the province of the government of the United States to impose one group’s moral worldview upon a diverse population of immigrants from all beliefs and walks of life. I find it amusing that a country founded by individuals attempting to establishing religious liberty has come full circle and become the Anglicans so despised.

Since the conclusion of World War II and even more since the fall of the Soviet Union, the world has changed dramatically. The 20th century saw more bloodshed and anguish than any other century in history. In hindsight, a very tangible factor that contributed to this human tragedy was the application of old models. These were the old models of geopolitics and domestic politics, the old models of human rights and concern, and the old models and notions of self.

The world community has changed and become much more inclusive, each nation as an entity on the global stage and the individuals that make up a state are all players and participants. Science, technology and tragedy have drawn the world, for better or worse, closer together. Nations and peoples have learned the lessons of history and many have vowed not to repeat them.

Enter now the sole global hegemon and the xenophobia it preaches; now maybe you can begin to understand why I am scared. This is not a new elephant, it is not a new model and history admonishes us of its results. So why are United States citizens willing to go en masse to the edge of the cliff, why do they seem so willing to embolden and follow their leaders right off the edge?

Empires always fall—it is in how and why they fall that is illustrative. So the question becomes how do we want this to end? I am not espousing some doomsday scenario that in the next 4 years the country is going to undergo a violent revolution or subjugation by a foreign power. But what I am saying is that it is the responsibility of every single individual living in this country to provide for the future, to lay the foundation for a better tomorrow. My cynicism leads me to think that wanting better for future generations is something of a quixotic hope. The thought is that this country is too self-absorbed, self-centered and arrogant to believe that anything can every really be that bad—and if it is, that is somebody else’s problem. Don’t make me think, don’t’ make me ask questions or ask me to attempt understand a different opinion, just let me have my money, keep the darkies away, don’t let the gays take over my life, let me tell people how to live their life, tell them what they can believe, and let my faith dictate hard science.

thanks Matt--A brilliant question from the Brits

w

Check him out http://static.vidvote.com/movies/bushuncensored.mov also check out his drunken videos on www.ebaumsworld.com

More later--today is a big day the presidential election and the start of the NBA season.

damn! these lines are long

VOTE!