Entry 287: Crossword Puzzle Tournament

I competed in my first crossword puzzle tournament today.  I put up two posts about it, a preview and a recap, at my other blog here and here.  I have neither the time nor the desire to write a whole other post on a different topic on this blog, so for this week's post I'm double-dipping.  The crossword puzzles posts are all there is.

Until next time... 

Entry 286: Happy(?) Memorial Day Weekend 2015

What's the proper adjective to use when wishing somebody a [blank] Memorial Day?  Is it OK to use "happy?"  If you think about the meaning of Memorial Day, "happy" just doesn't seem appropriate.  It's like wishing somebody a happy funeral.  Have a solemn Memorial Day?  A somber Memorial Day?  A respectful Memorial Day?  A freedom-filled Memorial Day?  I'm not sure.

Anyway, this entry is coming at you a bit later than usual.  That's because I was out of town, visiting the in-laws in SC, and I didn't have my personal computer with me.  It was a nice visit, as usual.  The best part about going there is that I get to sleep in everyday.  S's mom wakes up with the little man, so S and I can get some rest.  It's much needed too, as he's been wearing us out (S especially -- he's a mama's boy).  He's a typical almost-three-year-old, if somebody gave a typical almost-three-year-old a quad-shot espresso every morning.  He's supercharged.  And I'm not just saying that because he's my kid.  I've been around many other kids his age, and Lil' S is especially hyper and impish.  He just can't ever do anything "normally" (except zone out and watch iPad; he's very normal in that regard) -- like instead of just drinking water, he pours it from one cup into another into another and then drinks it; instead of just eating, he puts food in his mouth does a lap around the kitchen and then chews it and swallows (I'm trying very hard to put the kibosh on that one; it's a choking hazard); and instead of just sitting next to me, he climbs on my head, or he climbs to the top of the sofa and cannonballs onto the cushions below.  Admittedly, a lot of the stuff he does is really funny and cute, especially when my in-laws feebly try to stop it (he runs circles around them -- literally), but it's also tiring.  And I find myself in the role of "disapproving parent" -- "c'mon, knock it off," "get down from there," "stop! now!," "do you want a timeout?" -- much more than I would like to be.  Oh well.  C'est la vie.

My patience with Lil' S was especially thin this weekend as I was pretty sick.  I think early in the week I caught what he had last weekend, and it just lingered.  It was what I call a "bad break up sickness."  You know how when you go through a heart-break, you're miserable, but the misery is constantly changing -- like at first you're sad ("I'll be in my room drinking orange juice and watching Swingers on endless loop if you need me."), then angry ("Fuck him/her!"), then self-righteous ("I mean, setting aside our relationship, I just feel betrayed on the friend level."), then lonely ("I'll never find somebody that perfect again."), and then you go through a long stretch where you think you are better ("I'm just doing my own thing right now."), but then six-months later you find yourself crafting an email containing a transparently lame reason to see your ex again ("Hey, Sorry if I was a jerk before.  Just cleaning the bathroom and I found a half-used bottle of that conditioner you like.  Want to meet for coffee so that I can return it?")?  Well, that's how this sickness was.  I went through every major symptom -- earache, stuffy nose, sore throat, cloudy head, sinus headache, achy muscles, etc. -- and then I thought I kicked it on Friday and again on Saturday, but it just lingered and lingered.  Very annoying.  I think it finally, actually, really is gone now though  (i.e., I met somebody else who I legitimately like).  But it wiped me out for a few days.

So, let's see what else there is to say about this weekend ... Oh, Lil' S got his first buzz cut -- unfortunately.  I'm not a fan of the buzz cut.  In my opinion, the only people who should get buzz cuts are military personnel and balding middle-aged men (I've been resisting the buzz cut for years; eventually I'm going to have to give in).  If you have a full head of hair, why on Earth do you want to shave it all off?  Flaunt that shit!  I definitely do not like the way Lil' S looks right now.  And nobody intended for him to get it cut that way.  What happened is, my in-laws took him to get it cut, and there was some sort of confusion in the type of cut (remember, English is not their first language and they live in the South), and next thing they know the barber has already shaved half his head.  So now he's running around looking like a little Marine.  It reminds me of that scene in Boyhood when the step-dad cuts the boy's hair without his permission.   Anyway, like I said, I don't like it.  But Lil' S certainly doesn't care, and it will grow back in short order, so no harm, no foul, I guess.

Ok, I gotta go soon.  Lil' S is going to wake up from his nap at any moment.  (That's one nice thing about him.  He still crashes out for a few hours everyday.)  So let's do a quick five and out.

1. I started streaming Louie again on Netflix.  I'm on Season 4.  I liked the first three seasons okay -- nothing special, just decent -- but this season he's gone to a whole new level.  I think it's fantastic.  It's my favorite show on TV right now.
   
2. Speaking of TV, as you might have heard, David Letterman retired.  Like all comedy lovers of my generation, my sensibilities were shaped by Letterm- Oh, wait ... I never liked David Letterman and didn't watch his show.  I don't get the late night genre in general.  I've never liked any of those shows.  I don't get the attraction.  Nothing against Letterman, and a lot of people I think are funny cite him as a major influence, I just never though he was that good, even in his early shows that everybody swears by.
   
3. S is thinking about taking the GRE at some point, so she's been practicing math problems.  Every now and then I help her out and I feel like Good Will Hunting: Do you know how easy this is for me.
   
   
   
4. Running a marathon is kind of a big deal.  Running a 10K is not.  Just a little PSA for my Facebook friend who plastered his page with pics of himself finishing a 10K like he had just completed an Iron Man competition.  10K is about 6.5 miles.  I used to run that weekly with a friend, and we weren't even "runners."  It's just not that far.
   
5. Speaking of iron men ... Since it's Memorial Day, here's a link about a guy I was friends with in high school.  When I first met him he was a temperamental little pipsqueak; as you can see, he didn't stay that way.  He did quite well for himself, and his is a sad story.  Very sad indeed. 

Until next time ...

Entry 285: Stressors

Yesterday was not a particularly fun day.  It was actually quite stressful.  Lil' S ran a slight fever on Thursday, which meant not only did he have to be pulled out of daycare early on that day, but he could not come back on Friday either.  (They have a rule that a child must be fever-free for 24 hours before returning.)  S has Friday "off" -- I use quotes because she has one of those jobs where she's implicitly expected to work even on her off days -- and I work from home on Fridays, so we would both be home, but we had to figure out how to divvy up the parenting responsibilities for the day.  I hate this part of child-rearing because you end up bartering in this undefined currency "parenting units," where it's like -- How much is taking him to the store for an hour worth?  Is that lunch and a bath, or a trip to the park, or what?  And inevitably each parent thinks whatever it is they are doing is worth more than what the other person is doing.  With S there is an added struggle that she never wants the emotional burden of putting somebody else out, so instead of just saying to me "I want you to do x.  Will you do it please?" she will act in away where it becomes more and more apparent that she would like me to do x without actually stating it.  Or sometimes she will make a "suggestion" that's really more of an imperative, but I will treat it as a suggestion, because I don't get the context right away (or perhaps I do, but I'm annoyed that she's not being straightforward, so I act as if I don't -- which, only makes things much worse, I know).  The whole thing just leads to bad times.  It's fine when we're in our well-established routines.  But when we get thrown off it's tough.

I ended up just taking a sick day yesterday, so that I wouldn't have to worry about work at all.  This way I could watch Lil' S all-day -- or that was the plan anyway.  It didn't really work out that way, because S was still home most the day, and if she's home, he wants to be with her at all times.  He's going through a huge mama's boy stage right now.  If he's in a different room as her, he just whines and says, "I want Amma ... I want Amma."  And then unless you physically constrain him, he goes to wherever she is and pounds on the door.  The only way to distract him is to give him the iPad (Lightning McQueen trumps his own mother -- it's amazing and scary the power TV has over kids his age), which is fine once a day, for a half hour, but then what are you going to do the other 13 hours he's awake?  S can go to a coffee shop or something, and she did that, but she's also pregnant (another nice "bonus"), and apparently sitting at a coffee shop all day is not very comfortable when you've got a bowling ball attached to your tummy.  I can take Lil' S out, but you can only go to the park for so long, and he has to be home to eat and nap and stuff, and also you don't want to overdo it because he was just sick, which is why he's not at daycare in the first place.  Oh, and also we are having some work done on our house, so men are constantly coming in and out, and there is a nonstop cacophony of pounding and sawing and stomping.  So, if you are scoring at home, that's me, my pregnant wife, and my whiny toddler trapped in a construction zone for 12 hours.  I need to get back to the office just to have some peace of mind.

Another little wrinkle is that it's S's birthday today.  It's bad timing.  Nobody is in a celebratory mood.  She has the same stresses as I do, only it's 100 times worse because she's pregnant.  It's tough on her emotionally.  I know this, but I'm not very good at showing it.  Emotional support just isn't my bag.  I have too much robot in me.  Also, it doesn't help that S and I have been at odds with Lil' S's eating habits of late, and that's causing a bit of strife between us.  Basically, Lil' S is a picky eater, a really picky eater (just like 95% of the toddlers I know).  In the past, we've gotten around this, by turning on the iPad and shoveling food into his mouth while he's in a zombie-like state, or by rewarding/punishing him for eating/not eating (dessert, iPad time, take away his toys, etc.).  I really don't like doing either of these.  I think they are instilling really bad habits and increasing the odds that he will develop negative associations with food and/or eating disorders.  In most matters child-rearing I'm a parent-and-let-parent type of guy, but this is one thing about which I feel somewhat strongly.  I want to put a few dishes out for him, let him eat or not eat whatever he wants, and be done with it.  If that means he only eats yogurt and shredded cheese for a week, so be it -- he's not going to die of malnutrition.  Eventually he will open up his diet, and it will stick for the long run because he did it on his own.  It's short-term pain for long-term gain.

S agrees with me on this in theory, but when it's dinner time and all he's eaten is half a baby carrot and some ketchup on a fork, her Mama Bear instincts take over and she goes into "cub need food now!" mode.  I can make all the arguments I want -- if he's really hungry, he'll eat; he'll make up for it with a bigger breakfast tomorrow; he's healthy and growing normally, which is the only important thing; etc. -- but they fall on deaf ears, because it's not about rational point-counterpoint discourse, it's about maternal instinct.  And maternal instinct, I've come to find, is very powerful force.

Anyway ... lest I've given you a notion to the contrary, S and I, are, on a macro-level, very happy and doing quite well.  We just go through the same shit as every other couple.  My problems aren't, like, real problems, but they are mine, so I get to talk about them on my blog.

Okay, time for just a few bullet-point topics.

• Dzhokhar Tsarnaev, the Boston Marathon bomber, was sentenced to death a few days ago.  I wish he would not have been.  For one thing, I think there is less honor in withering away in obscurity in a cage somewhere than in being executed by the very society he terrorized.  For another thing, I'm very much against the death penalty -- not because I think it's wrong in theory, but because it's wrong in practice.  We fuck it up so much that it's better to just not have it at all.  With that said, I won't exactly be protesting in the street to spare Tsarnaev -- even if he is long in boyish good looks.
  
• I don't know which is harsher -- Tsarnaev's punishment for bombing a bunch of innocent people or Tom Brady's for having his lackeys deflate footballs to slightly below the legal limits set by the NFL.  Four games!  Plus $1 million and the loss of two draft picks by the Patriots! Egads!  That's brutal.  I know of the nine people who read this blog at least six of them couldn't care less about sports, so I will just talk about cheating in general.  Cheating is one of those things like lying where it is done so frequently, by so many people (just about everybody), that it is useless to talk about it without proper context.  Not all "cheaters" are the same -- not by a long shot.  There is a massive spectrum: On one side, there is seeing one of your opponent's cards in a game of rummy and not saying anything; on the other side, there is having a couple goons whack you opponent in the knee with a club before an ice skating competition.
  
  When I played lacrosse in college, we had guys our team who would intentionally use illegal gloves (they would cut the palms out so that they could grip the stick better) because the refs often did not notice.  But if they did, it was a three-minute non-releasable penalty, which in most cases meant several goals for the other team.  Although it was definitely cheating, I never really thought of it as such, because the possibility of a penalty was always there.  It was more like a calculated bit of gamesmanship.  Go ahead and try it, but if you get caught, you pay the price.  But then that's it.  You serve the penalty and then you can come back onto the field with legal gloves later.  You aren't branded a "cheater," and you aren't disallowed from future games.  It's like if you speed, you pay the fine, and drive a little more slowly next time.  Tom Brady got caught speeding, and now he's going to jail for a month and being branded a criminal.  It's way too harsh.  With that said, it doesn't help that he gave the finger to the police officer (i.e., didn't cooperate with the NFL), and is now telling everybody to "fuck off" (figuratively speaking), instead of just coming clean.  Tom, just admit it.
  
• I thought the clip below was hilarious, and it also perfectly illustrates why Jimmy Fallon is the most untalented genius in show biz.  This video is literally just Fallon and Jack Black pretending to be the guys from Extreme and recreating the More Than Words music video.  On the difficulty scale it's a two; on the creativity scale, it's a one.  Other than a few funny faces and gestures by Black, there is absolutely nothing to it, and yet I loved it, because back in seventh grade this song was the jam.  I don't actually watch Jimmy Fallon's show, but from what I can gather, his whole shtick is that he redoes things from the past that make thirtysomethings nostalgic.  That seems like a pretty lame and simple shtick, but -- and this is a big but -- he picks the exact right things.  That's the genius behind it.
  
  
• So on that note, I will leave you with the top five songs from my seventh grade year (1990-1991).  These are not my favorite songs from that period; they are the songs that most instantly transport me to those days -- back when recess was no longer a thing; pubic hair was a common topic of conversation; and people -- even black people -- thought Vanilla Ice was unironically cool.
  
  5.  Unbelievable, EMF
  4.  I Touch Myself, The Divinyls
  3.  Motown Philly, Boyz II Men
  2.  Ice Ice Baby, Vanilla Ice
  1.  More than Words, Extreme

Entry 284: Olio, Hodgepodge, Miscellany, Potpourri, Gallimaufry, Etc.

Super groggy today, and the bean is nipping a bit.  We went to a friend's birthday party last night, and I partook in the revelry -- a couple Corona Lights and a couple shots of tequila (the party had a quasi-Mexican theme).  Shots are a total rarity for me.  Before last night, I don't know when the last time I had one was.  As best I can remember, it was when the Seahawks won the Super Bowl in February 2014.  I took a celebratory shot of something blue with some friends.

[Corona Light with a lime wedge on a hot summer night -- you could do worse.]

I'm actually in better shape today than I thought I would be.  I had the drinks over several hours, but even when I pace myself I still tend to be really hungover the next day (the joys of being nearly middle-age).  Also, it was my morning to get up early with the little guy, so sleep was not in the forecast for me.  But he climbed into bed with me around 5:30 (my pregnant wife, for physical comfort reasons, often prefers to sleep in the guest bed these days) and then fell back asleep until 7:30.  That's sleeping in for him.  So I'm doing okay, but I still think a lightning-round entry is in order.  I only have the attention span today for a few paragraphs at a time.

• In addition to having a Latino feel, the party also had a "funny shirt" theme.  But S neglected to tell me this (I didn't get the invite directly), so I just wore a normal shirt.  It was so disappointing too because I've been waiting for an occasion to rock one of my math shirts.  I have one in which the punchline is "Here's looking at Euclid."  That would have been perfect.
  
• Speaking of Euclid, I was trying to teach Lil' S some basic math today.  I would hold up two fingers and say, "If I have two," and then hold up another finger on my other hand and say, "and I add one, how many do I have?"  And then he would say "three!"  I did four or five of these and he got them all right, so I got super excited, and thought I would try subtraction, so I held up two fingers and said, "If I have two," and then I put a finger down, and said, "and I take one away, how many do I have?"  He thought for a beat, and then said emphatically, "eight!"  So there is still some work to do.
  
• Not to beat the same drum over and over, but I read a fantastic interview with David Simon, former crime reporter for the Baltimore Sun, and the creator of The Wire, about the awfulness of the War on Drugs in relation to the unrest in Baltimore.  I won't go into the details of the article; you can read it yourself if you wish.  But I will say that it was particularly surreal to read it this morning given the events of last night.  Last night, I ingested a very dangerous drug for no other reason than it was fun -- and it's not big deal.  Not only is it perfectly acceptable to get drunk, it can actually be a social advantage.  People think you are weird if you don't drink.  Meanwhile if a young adult in the inner city (particular an African-American) is caught with a joint or a bit of coke, they are going to go jail -- jail!  To quote Ricky Watters: For who?  For what?  Can you image if the police went around to bars and cookouts and attempted to arrest everybody with beers in their hands.  Actually you can, because it happened, it was called Prohibition, and it was a fucking disaster.  And yet, we've decided to do it again, but just with different substances.  It is a shame and a tragedy that this is how things are.  It's a goddamn shamedy.
  
• Last night notwithstanding, I have been trying to take better care of myself as I get older.  I've been trying to watch what I eat and exercise more.  I've had much more success with the latter than the former.  (Sweets are my weakness.)  I read this article that says everybody should get at least 150 minutes of exercise a week and that you can do up to three times this before you start to plateau in terms of effectiveness.  It also said about 20% should be vigorous exercise, but the rest can be passive exercise like walking.  So I've been shooting for about an hour a day.  It sounds like a lot, but it isn't really.  The first thing almost everybody can do is take two or three 15 minute breaks during the work day and just walk around the block.  That puts you at 30-45 minutes straightaway.  Then if you lift some weights or go for a jog or do some yoga for 15 to 20 minutes you are done.
  
  One obstacle I have in exercising sometimes is my wife.  We have different mindsets on it.  She sees it as something of a luxury -- a leisure activity.  I see it as a must-do, life-maintenance activity.  So for instance, yesterday I worked from home, so I went for a run before my lunch break, and she made a comment half-sarcastically/half-playfully, "Oh, a run.  It must be nice to have time to do that during your workday."  I asked her what she was doing today (she has Fridays "off"), and she gave me a list of legitimate things she did -- take the little man to the doctor, drop books off at the library, go grocery shopping, etc. And then she said, "and now I'm going to get my nails done."  I raised my eyebrow at this one, and she smiled knowingly.  And that was that.  Neither of us really wanted to push the conversation much further -- best to leave it on good terms.  The exercise path is one we've been down before, and it almost always leads right off a cliff.
  
  The last thing I'll say is that obviously I think S could have gone for a walk instead of getting her nails done, if she really wanted to.  But it is easier for me, a man, to make time in my day than it is for S, a woman.  When S wakes up it takes her like 45 minutes to get ready -- just herself, without eating breakfast.  When I wake up, I can get myself and Lil' S dressed and fed and out the door in a half hour, if need be.  A huge part of this disparity is that we don't put the same beauty requirements on men as we do on women.  (Although in the case of my wife in particular, I think she would take a long time anyway, even if there wasn't a societal norm -- she's very girly-girl in that regard.)  Like white privilege, male privilege is a real thing.  And for some reason it's controversial to say this, even though it is completely and totally obvious.  I mean, just look at every president we've ever had -- 44 for 44 male; 43.5 for 44 white.  What other evidence do you need?
  
• Listening to Lil' S talk to S's parents on Facetime is one of the funniest things you will ever hear.  He's at the age where you can have an almost normal conversation with him, but he has his own grammar and pronunciation that takes some getting used to.  Toss in the fact that he's talking over the phone to non-native English speakers about topics they know nothing about and hilarity will ensue.  Yesterday, he was trying to tell his Ava (S's mom) about his new favorite cartoon character Lightning McQueen.  But she kept hearing "light and queen" and just had no idea what was going on.  S and I were just listening and laughing.
  
• I have two weddings, three airplanes trips, a show at the Kennedy Center, a baseball game, and a crossword puzzle tournament planned in the next two months.  It's the busiest I've been with social events since, well, since possibly ever.  One of the weddings is my cousin's in Joplin, Missouri.  I booked a room in the hotel online through Hotels.com, but then I saw on Facebook a message from my cousin saying that if you book through the hotel itself, you can get a discount and a free continental breakfast.  I hate calling people and booking hotels and doing things of that nature, so my first inclination upon reading the message: You're already booked.  Don't bother with this.  It's not worth it.  But then I thought: Be a human being.  Pick up the phone and talk to another human being.  It's not that hard.  So I did, and here is my approximate conversation with the hotel sales rep.
  
  Me: Hi, I'm calling for the B & C wedding.  I've already booked a room, but I understand that if I book under their block then I can get a discount and a free continental breakfast.
  Her: OK, what's your name.
  Me: D.G.
  Her: And the wedding party.
  Me: B & C.
  Her: OK, you actually booked through Hotels.com, so you will have to cancel with them and then book through us if you want the discount.
  Me: That sounds like a pain.  Can't you just give me the discount?
  Her: No, because you went through Hotels.com, so you will have to cancel with them and then book through us if you want the discount.
  Me: OK, how much is the discount?  How much are you charging for a night?
  Her: $89.
  Me: (I booked for $91 a night.)  OK.  The discount actually is not really anything.  What about the free continental breakfast?
  Her: I'm sorry, sir, what breakfast?
  Me: My cousin -- the bride-to-be -- said that you can get a free continental breakfast.
  Her: We don't have continental breakfast.
  Me: Uh ... OK ... That's what she said.  Do you have any sort of breakfast?
  Her: We have a restaurant that serves breakfast.
  Me: OK, is that part of the deal -- a free breakfast at your restaurant?
  Her: No.
  Me: OK, that's strange.  Well I suppose my cousin could have been mistak-
  Her: Oh, wait.  Some guests in this block ARE getting a free breakfast.
  Me: OK... So ... Can I get a free breakfast?
  Her: I don't know.
  Me: Can you just mark me down for one?
  Her: Well, you went through Hotels.com, so you will have to cancel with them and then book through us if you want the free breakfast.
  Me: And if I do that -- if I cancel with Hotels.com and book with you -- I can get free breakfast for sure?
  Her: I don't know.
  Me: ...
  Her: ...
  Me: Well ... uh ... OK then.  Thanks?
  Her: Your welcome, sir.  Is there anything else I can help you with today?
  Me: No, that's it.  Bye.
  Her: Good bye.
  
  It was really my fault.  I knew not to call in the first place.

That's all for today.  Until next time ....

Entry 283: What I Would Like To Write On Facebook

My last entry turned out to be sadly topical.  The big news stories this week were the death of Freddie Gray, the protests in Baltimore, and the criminal charges brought against the arresting police officers.  In all the analysis I've heard on the matter, this is about something bigger than a single death (tragic as it is), it's about a systemic mistreatment of black kids in the inner city by law enforcement and the mutual mistrust that breeds.  And when you look below the surface, it's not difficult to spot a major cause of this ill: The Drug War.  In fact, the Baltimore Sun just put out an article with the not-so-subtle headline: "The drug war killed Freddie Gray."

Whenever a big politically-charged event happens, especially one that is racial by nature, you can expect to see some stupid things on your Facebook feed.  I tend to block the posts of my really stupid "friends" (I rarely outright unfriend people), but some still get through.  I read the posts, but I almost never reply.  I almost never engage because -- what's the point?  Do you really want to argue about racial disparities in the criminal justice system with a former high school classmate you haven't seen in 20 years using chatspeak and emojis?  I don't.  So even when I really want to say something, I typically fight the urge.

But on my own blog with a readership barely in the double digits, it's a different story.  I don't feel the need to refrain from speaking my mind.  So below are five posts from my recent Facebook feed, along with what I would have said if I thought arguing on Facebook actually accomplished anything.  All posts are anonymous to protect the guilty.

Post 1.

So shouldn't white people be rioting?

Response.  Let's start with the most obvious retort.  White people are 72% of the U.S. population; African-Americans, 13%.  If whites and blacks are killed by police at an equal rate, and 414 white people are killed, then that would imply 75 black people should be killed.  Now, you might not have been able to derive this number yourself (it would require an understanding of a complex math topic known as "fractions"), but now that I've told it to you, you can surely deduce that 75 is a much smaller number than 233.

Next, let's talk about American history, particular these racist institutions called "slavery" and "Jim Crow Law" and their residual effects that still persist to this day, and why trying to equate blacks and whi- ... Actually, you know what, let's not get into this.  Being that you thought it a good idea to post this nonsense on your Facebook page, I can see most of it is going to go right over your head anyway.  Instead, I'll just answer your question: No, white people shouldn't be rioting.  College basketball season is over and the Stanley Cup Finals are still a few weeks away.

Post 2.  

The picture the media won't show, so I will.  BLACK people protecting the POLICE.

Response.  Okay, I get it.  You're a conservative republican who therefore must reflexively defend the police, but you want everybody to know you're not racist.  Every time you criticize Obama, you temper it will a praise of somebody like Jason Riley, and you are totally sympatico with blacks like Billy Cosby (minus the whole drugging and raping women thing).  That's cool.  But I have a question for you: If the media isn't showing this picture, then why can I find it at CNN and on Fox News*, two of the biggest news outlets in the US?  (Although, I use the word "news" tentatively in both of these cases.  With CNN it's more like force-fed sensationalism, and with Fox News it's farcical anti-liberal gibberish.)

In general, why is it that whenever somebody posts a picture online claiming that it's something we won't see in the media, nine times out of ten, I've already seen it somewhere in the media?  To be fair, this happens on both sides of the political aisle.  I swear I saw more articles about the improper coverage of the protests (only focusing on the violence, not talking about the systemic problems, using the word "thug," etc.) than I saw articles that were actually improperly covering the protests.  The thing is, there really is no "the media" anymore.  There is lots of media -- and they are covering literally everything.  So let's all stop with the media isn't showing us this or that business.

*I copied the wrong link in for Fox, and now I can't find the right one, but I swear I had a screen shot of this picture being shown on a Fox News TV show.

Advertisement.

Response.  I thought the deal with Facebook was we get to use their free service and they get to collect a bunch of demographic data on everybody.  We have to endure ads too?  And what have I been doing online that makes Meet Single Moms a suggested post for me?  Maybe I need to cut back on the MILF porn.  And speaking of porn, is it just a coincidence that the woman in the photo looks an awful lot like adult film star Katie Morgan, or was that the intention of the ad maker?  (I only know Ms. Morgan because she was once on the Adam Carolla Show, honest.)   What's up with this ad, and why is it popping up in my Facebook feed?

Post 3.

Response.  ^^^^^THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  FINALLY somebdy says what were all thinking.  If you dont want ur spine busted dont carry a legal pocket knife on ur person.  And if you dont want to be shot in the back in cold blood dont try to amble away from a officer at 2 mph.  And whatever you do dont make EYECONTACT with a police. If you do thats on YOU!!

Post 4.

[Shared from a site "Ron Paul Revolution" or something like that.] 

Response 4.  And we know these people are getting free housing and welfare checks how?  

Look, obviously looting and rioting are not solutions to anything, but should we look at why people loot and riot, should we look at society's role in it, or should we just chalk it all up to a bunch of freeloading criminals who made poor life decisions?  If you're a Ron Paul-ite, you choose the latter.  It's just another reason why I've grown to loathe libertarianism -- it's a total cop out.  If you believe society is (or should be) composed of a discrete set of individuals and you reject the idea of society -- of a greater good -- then there is no reason to address societal problems.  Instead of looking at the history of theft and violence against blacks in America and trying to figure out the role that plays in the struggle of many African-Americans today, one can just say -- black people have to make better decisions and raise their families better -- and be done with it.  Maybe that's why it's called libertarianism, it "liberates" you from having to deal with any real societal problems.  

And in this case the real problem is a legacy of white supremacy that has created systemic inequalities between blacks and whites in almost all facets of life.  That's not something a libertarian would ever say because the solution to this problem would entail: a) admitting racism and white privilege are real things, b) an active role of the government (gasp!) in creating and administering new progressive policy, c) a sizable redistribution of wealth (double gasp!).  Also, it would mean that being a white person and telling black people that the problem is that they're doing life wrong -- which is essentially Rand Paul's message -- is a colossally dickheaded move. 

Post 5.

Most black people are not criminals.

Most white people are not racists.

Most police officers are good people doing a difficult job.

LIKE IF YOU AGREE.

This is all true.  It is also completely irrelevant.  We can't fix systemic racism by being good people and singing Kumbayuh together.  If we could, it would be over by now.  Posting this is about as useful as putting a "Mean People Suck" bumper sticker on your car.  But of all the posts this is the only one with which I do in fact agree, so let's end here on a somewhat positive note.

Until next time ...