I’m forming a Mock Squad. Who’s with me?

I think it’s due time that we collectively, as a civil society, revisit the concept of shame and to whom shame-inducing humililation should be directed. I have come to this conclusion after having been dragged yet again to a U2 concert by my wife. No, I’m not suggesting U2 should be ashamed of their latest indulgent, hackneyed album, which is unlikely to spawn a single memorable hit despite glowing reviews by the fawning music critic corps. I’m referring instead to U2’s rapidly graying female fan base, many of whom are now in their mid-30’s to late 40’s, the prime bonbon-eating house-frau demographic.

Ladies, if I may speak frankly, I understand your natural temptation to tart it up for a special occasion, but a night out to see Saint Bono and his potato-eating minstrel show does not give you carte blanche to embrace your inner groupie whore and transform yourself into an offensive eyesore for the rest of us, particularly straight men. For the most part, we’re not winking at you; we’re whincing at the sight of you. We care not to gaze upon your saggy, braless racks swinging pendulously in your low, low tank tops. Those little butterfly and dolphin tattoos placed strategically somewhere on your now ample torsos have long stopped being cute and suggestive. Now they’re just creepy and sad. The low rider jeans you’ve donned were created with a specific body type in mind, and are not intended for mommies who still retain a good portion of their pregnancy weight. (Here’s a good rule of thumb: if it looks like bread dough is rising from your gut and hips, take them off.) Coping with aging is hard, but no amount of badly applied makeup and curiously unnatural hair dye will hide the fact that you’re not 22 anymore. Just accept it and present yourself accordingly.

Guys, you’re not entirely immune from some well deserved ridicule, either. Though you’re thankfully less prone to revealing flesh than your desperate housewifes, much of what you wear to cover that flesh on a night out has taken on a distinctly douchebag-ish tone. Can you please just stop with the superfluous Ed Hardy T’s, the shirts with the inexplicable eagle crests emblazened on them, the tight partially faded designer jeans, and the hipster Fedoras? (Here’s a good rule of thumb: if it looks like something Jon Gosselin has been photographed wearing, take it off.) Men look their best by keeping it simple. When they embrace ill-conceived style fads like a Eurotrash metrosexual, they are ripe for well deserved mockery.

In the old days, shame kept people in line and saved the rest of us from being distracted by the buffoonery of those trying way too desperately to relive their youth. Ah, what a lovely time it was. It’s up to us to end this lunacy and bring shame back with a vengeance. I’m forming a Mock Squad. Who’s with me?

Do you believe in unicorns?

I’m not being facetious; it’s a legitimate question that goes to the heart of the raucous health care reform debate in which the whole country is currently mired. I’ll explain.

Various incarnations of socialized medicine have been implemented in jurisdictions spanning the entire globe since the 1920’s. That’s over 80 years of accumulated empirical evidence we can examine to determine what sorts of government mandates and interventions in the health care arena appear to work, and which ones do not. For policymakers, the rational approach to reform would be to consider this evidence and advocate policies implementing the measures that are clearly beneficial and eschew those which have proven most consistently to be detrimental. Based on what is buried in the competing mammoth bills of what has thus far been labelled ObamaCare (or KennedyCare now that the senior Senator/murderer from Massachusetts has finally expired), it is abundantly clear that no such rational approach was taken in the name of "reform". It seems as more and more people actually take the time to read the bills and share their findings, more details emerge about how extensively the core of the Democrat "reform" effort emulates the failed policies of distressed and bankrupt socialized medical systems at home and abroad.

Far be it from me to impugn the motives of liberal Democrats as sinister. So, short of that, what am I to conclude from the approach they have taken in drafting their proposed "reforms"? I’m left with only one other explanation as to why they would ignore the lessons of history and drive forward so vigorously with such flawed proposals. Albert Einstein once said, "The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a new result." Ergo, the sanity of The ObaMessiah, his acolytes in Congress, and the 30% of Americans who still strongly favor his version of health care "reform" is suspect. If you can convince yourself so thoroughly that adding 47 million people to the health care system will not only cost nothing, but actually save $1,000,000,000,000, then you are certainly capable of believing fictional characters are very real and walking amongst us.

So, if you support The ObaMessiah’s health care "reform" agenda, I ask you, deep down...honest to God...no kidding around...for reals...Do you believe in unicorns?

Zeke’s eye and some thoughts on ObamaCare...

Zeke, my six year old Beagle/Retard mix (see profile pic), punctured his right eye last Monday chasing a bunny through some thorny brush, which prompted a trip to the closest animal hospital with a 24-hour emergency room. As I sat in the waiting room with the furry moron, it occurred to me that I was smack dab in the middle of a pure market-driven, fee-for-service medical operation, albeit for veterinary care. It was a bonafide working model of a system that is far more efficient and desirable than anything His Holiness The ObaMessiah was pitching on his ABC infomercial in typical snake oil salesman fashion.

Granted, I wasn’t overjoyed about shelling out $166 for an emergency exam and some eye salve, but Zeke did receive prompt and professional care from a skilled and courteous vet staff. Had I purchased pet health insurance for him previously, it might have been preferable to my own coverage. Unlike me, Zeke is unemployable; he does not have opposable thumbs, a brain larger than a kiwi, or the ability to speak. Consequently, his range of insurance options is defined by the marketplace, not by his employer, and is mostly free of onerous regulations. His insurance would not be subject to artificial inflationary pressures from state-bound coverage mandates or bureaucratic meddling with reimbursement and rationing. Lucky, care-free little bastard. I haven’t decided if I’m actually going to buy him some insurance in case his next bunny hunt goes horribly awry. If he gets hit by a cement truck in the process, I can always have him euthanized.

My trip to the animal ER also reminded me of a story about a former boss of mine (a committed liberal of the 60’s hippie variety) who once paid $10,000 for a series of surgeries to save a stray cat that died a few months afterward. He was also a huge proponent of single-payer universal health care. I don’t think the rationale behind these threads are unrelated, as they offer a glimpse into the pervasive empathetic reasoning that has obscured rational assessments of socialized medicine’s true cost. The mainstream news media and Hollywood have worked diligently the past two decades to push hard for the universal care agenda by playing the empathy card to a society that seems increasingly swayed by feelings and imagery over substance and reasoned argument. By exploiting exaggerated medical horror stories in a two-pronged approach, they have consistently demonized HMOs, the insurance industry and greedy doctors, and lauded the supposed greatness of socialized medicine in other counties while conveniently ignoring the substantial drawbacks. The true source of America's healthcare problem, government, is never labeled as such; rather, government is invariably celebrated as a benevolent provider to the ever-ailing masses.

Ultimately, the inflation and inefficiencies that plague the US medical system stem from market distortions caused by Ponzi-esque government programs and burdensome regulations that pervert the price mechanisms necessary for a viable and free health care marketplace. In spite of this rather obvious fact, here we are, 15 years after the death of HillaryCare, on the cusp of adopting myriad radical changes at the federal level which would distance us even further from a free market solution, with guaranteed disastrous fiscal and medical consequences. I can't say I'm entirely surprised. This is, after all, just the sort of “change” His Holiness promised to deliver. Sadly, we've drifted far from the days when less bombastic presidents could speak openly about affirming the limits of federal power without being considered a cruel heretic. It was Silent Cal who once said, “Government should not assume for the people the inevitable burdens of existence.” Now that's the sort of “change” I can believe in. Yes, I can!

An old friend of mine recently texted me to say my Facebook profile pic (see right) was coming off "a bit creepy". This was the cyber equivalent of earnestly taking someone aside at a dinner party to politely inform them they are embarrassing themselves in mixed company. I replied that the pose I struck was quite deliberate, a form of performance art, really; a hyperbolic caricature that reflects what my urbane friends (mostly Canadians) think about Americans who cherish their 2nd Amendment freedoms. Bluntly, we're all insane zealots.

As expected, I’ve had more reaction to this nifty self-portrait than to anything I’ve ever posted on Facebook or written on this blog, including the time I wrote pseudonymously as an intelligent person trapped in a mongoloid’s body (this was way before Down Syndrome suddenly became all the rage after the Palin pick). The reactions were decidedly mixed. Some people were on to the spoof and laughed along. Some were mildly alarmed and jokingly questioned my sanity. Some said I likely torched any lingering aspirations for a political career. Some congratulated me on the purchase and wanted to go shooting with me. Some wondered why I would ever want a handgun in the first place because, "you know, guns kill people". Some, perhaps envisioning an imminent rampage, expressed concern for my family, friends, coworkers, and neighbors. Some chastised me to varying degrees, the most extreme of which I found quite hilarious. One person, with whom I have not spoken in nearly 20 years, added me as a Facebook friend for the express purpose of sending me a blistering private message. In a nutshell, they said they always knew deep down I was a disturbed individual destined for the electric chair, then immediately de-friended me.

Needless to say, the more absurdly over the top reactions were exactly what I had hoped for. Perhaps it’s a perverse pleasure, but I love drawing out the real loons that walk among us. The routines, banalities and courtesies of everyday life tend to obscure nuttiness. In general, that’s sort of a good thing; nuts are destabilizing entities that tend to provoke nutty reactions from the otherwise sane in return. Personally, I’d rather out the nuts and take my chances, if for nothing else but to know who to avoid. Thanks to my inspired self-portrait, I now know there are a couple of acquaintances I should maintain a safe distance from in case they once again become completely unhinged about something as trivial as a picture.

Eddie asked if anything was up with me since June. Truth be told, the past 4 months were marked by protracted periods of profound boredom, interrupted by some seminal events and the realization of long anticipated achievements:

1) I attended my sister's wedding in Vancouver. For the record, whoever is in charge of Vancouver's transportation planning division needs to be executed, slowly...

2) I visited my brother-in-law's new digs in Seattle. Now I have to listen to my wife's incessant pleas to sell everything and just move up there because she's a water person, pronto.

3) I attended my grad school ceremony at The University of Phoenix football stadium and listened to Stedman Graham give the keynote address. Who knew Oprah's concubine was also a motivational speaker? See more of Stedman here.

4) I took the American citizenship oath, along with 1700 other immigrants from 107 countries in the largest naturalization ceremony in Arizona history. Yes, it was promptly followed by a sing-a-long to Lee Greenwood's Proud to be an American. I think even natural-born Americans would have found this to be over the top, but nobody seemed to mind in the least.

5) I registered to vote as a Republican. Alas, my ballot will probably be for naught, as an ObaMarxist White House and an emboldened Democrat Congress appear ever more likely with each passing day.

6) I went through a brief bout of mild depression as I came to realize that not only do I hate my job, but the entire technology field I've built my career upon for the past decade as well. If it wasn't for the decent paycheck, I would have chucked it all and embarked on a 3 month roadtrip by now.

7) I witnessed my adopted country lurch disturbingly towards socialism as its leaders passed historic financial "bailout" legislation to avert an economic meltdown. I can feel a slight whirring vibration as many dead Austrian economists spin in their graves.

8) I continue to root on Harper's Conservative Party of Cuba North as it systematically destroys the once venerable Liberal Party under the leadership of a feckless and incomprehensible Stephane Dion. Though a Harper majority may be barely out of reach next Tuesday, I think it's safe to say Dion's political career will be officially over.

9) I watched many movies since June, practically all of the new ones. Most of them were crap, but the trailers were awesome. Case in point, the Coen's Brothers' Burn After Reading had an awesome trailer, which featured a couple of cool tracks (check out Elbow's Grounds for Divorce). The movie was only so-so, just like the overrated No Country for Old Men. I've come to the conclusion that a great trailer can make for a decent opening weekend, even if the film is awful. The moral? Check out TrailerAddict.com before going to the theatre on a whim and judge the clips critically.

Some idle ruminations...

1) I saw The Happening Friday night. I think it’s time for M. Night Shyamalanamanalamayalan to hang up his writer/director hat for a few years.

2) Based on my casual observations, there are many people who can’t fathom McDonalds’ “Breakfast Only Until 10:30am” policy.

3) An introductory economics course should be mandatory for all students entering Grade 9, with a follow-up comparative economic systems class as a graduation requirement.

4) I know it’s impolite, but I take great pleasure in pointing and laughing at people in SUVs as I pass them on the highway in my Corolla.

5) According to a Chicago jury, my preconceived notion that R. Kelly is a pedophile is unfounded. By the way, has he endorsed Obama yet?

6) I concur with most of the planet: Coldplay’s Chris Martin is officially a douchebag.

7) My Costco membership is worth it for the free tapas alone.

8) What ever happened to Boz Scaggs?

9) People should really listen to Reid Bryson. Seriously.

10) What exactly is the appeal of the Dirty Sanchez? Do I dare ask?

11) I’m amazed that more people with terminal illnesses don’t commit murder. If you were told you had 3 months to live, wouldn’t you be compelled to take out some prick you hated with a passion?

12) My grandmother is ambidextrous. I think that’s neat.

The lady who lived across the street from me had her house foreclosed a few weeks ago. According to my neighbors, this is a woeful situation deserving of our collective pity. Being naturally skeptical, I reserved judgment for the time being and resisted the pity parade peer pressure, opting instead to probe a bit more deeply into the matter. I suspected the woman in question was really done in by her own fiscal incompetence, not by the allegedly evil and unscrupulous lending industry that's routinely lambasted by the mainstream media and Democrat politicians.

Sure enough, a review of her publicly recorded deed and mortgage documents at the Maricopa County website confirmed my suspicions. The docs, combined with my casual observations of her big ticket purchases over the past two years, reveal a classic case of a looming financial disaster finally coming to the fore. She bought her home with no down payment in January 2006 and financed it with a $236,000 2-year Interest Only balloon payment ARM mortgage at 9%. The prevailing rate for this type of suicide loan at the time was 5.5%, so right off the bat we know this woman either had very bad credit or a high loan-to-income ratio to begin with. Two months after closing on the mortgage, she secured a $20,000 home equity line of credit on the home. A month after that, she somehow was able to get another line of credit for an additional $30,000. Based on my recollection, this is roughly around the same time she started driving a spiffy, new BMW 335. Retail price: $40,000. I also noticed several big ticket items appeared around this time, including a top-of-the-line 56” television that was clearly visible through the living room window from the street, and the delivery of various furniture and new appliances.

Granted, I don’t have all the details of my former neighbor’s financial profile, but from my vantage point all signs pointed to a fiscally reckless individual living in the here and now, from paycheck-to-paycheck, skirting on the edge of foreclosure from Day One. My assessment? Pity for this foreclosure “victim” will not be forthcoming from me. Nor will it be offered for most of the swelling ranks of homeowners who have been foreclosed on in recent months. I’m willing to bet 90% of those people chose a strikingly similar path of fiscal incompetence fuelled by greed and a lust for instant gratification.

I exercised some cherished American freedom today and made a belated trip to the Ben Avery Shooting Facility, the country's largest publicly operated firing range, which is conveniently located just 3 miles from my home. Here are a few quick pics:

My shooting post, with my tiny Walther PPK/S .380 Auto sitting atop the block.

Some considerably larger fire power to my immediate left.

Even more impressive fire power to my right. Suddenly my penis seems very small.

Allow me to introduce Richard Doucet.

Richard and I went to junior high and high school together, though he was a couple of years ahead of me. He was considered something of a phenom back then. An excellent student and a precociously gifted orator, Richard led our high school debating team to their first provincial championship. He also won numerous national and international accolades for debating and public speaking. He was elected President of the Student Council and was named Student of the Year. By all accounts, he was a bonafide rising star who was well-liked by both his teachers and peers for the most part (I thought he was a sanctimonious prick, but I digress…).

After he graduated, some of my friends and I found it strange that he chose to pursue an education degree, rather than follow another path befitting his enormous talents, like law school and a sure fast-track to Parliament. In retrospect, perhaps his choice of profession arose from sinister motives. You see, Richard, who teaches elementary grades at an exclusive Montreal private school, was arrested in Fredericksburg, Virginia last week after soliciting sex over the Internet from a cop posing as a 13 year old boy. Now he’s facing a 20 year jail sentence and some serious anal raping if convicted.

I’m not one who shocks easily, but this news was a real stunner. Granted, I didn’t know Richard all that well; it’s been nearly two decades since I last spoke to him, so I wasn’t privy to any signs of his “alleged” perversions if there were any to be detected. The point is we don’t really know who the surreptitious pedophiles are walking among us. I certainly never would have pegged Richard for someone with a penchant for pre-pubescent t-bagging.

This guy, on the other hand, I would have spotted from a mile away.

It's over...finally.

After 16 1/2 months of studying, I now have a Masters degree in Information Systems, with a 4.0 GPA and a 98.44% cumulative average to boot. On paper that means I'm a genius. In reality, I'm just another victim of the grade inflation trend that seems to be running rampant across academia these days. I'm certainly no expert in my field, though I did learn a few things that might be useful going forward.

Overall, my impressions of grad school, particularly The University of Phoenix, are mixed. To echo sentiments I expressed in earlier posts, UOP certainly is not a degree mill, as a substantial amount of work does have to be completed in order to satisfy their program requirements; however, the quality of the education is sorely lacking. One of my biggest quality gripes is about the school's insistence on the use of learning teams. Here's a sample of what I typically wrote to my instructors in the course evaluations about these so-called "teams":

1. What are the most important concepts you have learned from the Learning Team experience?

None. I can state confidently that the learning teams are a complete and utter waste of time. In most courses my classmates have been either too preoccupied or too clueless to add anything of value to my educational experience; in fact, I think the learning teams detracted from my educational experience at UOP. Perhaps if the university had stricter entrance requirements the learning teams would be comprised of higher quality students, which would enrich the learning environment. As the entrance requirements are virtually non-existent, I believe many of my classmates are grossly unqualified for graduate level studies and may in fact be mentally handicapped.

2. How will you use this learning to improve both personally and professionally?

I didn’t learn anything from the Learning Team experience that would serve to improve my personal or professional aptitudes, other than to hone my ability to make honest assessments of my teammates’ strengths and weaknesses, and not to trust otherwise intelligent people to follow basic instructions or own up to their responsibilities.

My other big complaint is that there seemed to be a wide variance in quality between courses, though this may not be a UOP-specific problem. Some instructors were quite engaging, while others pretty much phoned it in. Some course materials were well-researched, timely and salient, while others were dated, redundant and irrelevant to the topics at hand. Most of my classmates didn't seem to notice or care about quality variances. For the amount of money they were paying, roughly $2000 per course either out-of-pocket or through loans, you'd think they would pay more attention to such things. Thankfully, I didn't pay one red cent for this program, otherwise I'd be livid.

Now that my attention can be turned to other things, my first priority is to find a new job. I currently commute 70 miles round-trip daily and it's killing me. The only reason I endured wasting nearly 2 hours of my life each day was to get the free education. This has got to stop. Plus, there are credible rumors swirling about that several good people with whom I work closely will be jumping ship real soon. Without them, my job gets a whole lot harder. I'd rather take my chances elsewhere than work with the people who are likely to replace them.