Thursday, January 26, 2006

Rap Song - Enemies Anemones

So I've decided to write a rap song... I downloaded a bunch of freestyle beats last night and am seriously considering a couple of them. I need to work on my lyrics though... I came up with a great line when I was in the shower yesterday (Hey, it worked for Archimedes, didn't it?) but I haven't quite managed to construct a rap around it:

I ain't got no enemies
But I got anemones
In a fishbowl

Now I wasn't sure about the pronunciation of the word "anemone" because
a) I distinctly remember calling it an "an-eh-moan" when I was five or six years old.
b) Sure they say "ah-ne-money" in Finding Nemo but can you really trust a cartoon?
Tif confirmed that Finding Nemo is in fact a reliable source for the pronunciation of otherwise obscure marine-type words. We also had a spirited discussion (well, it lasted about 5 seconds, but it was productive) on the suitability of the word "tank" as compared to the word "bowl" as the last word in the line. Bowl was agreed upon.

Now all that remains is the rest of the song... I'm considering playing around with the line I already have... maybe give it more of a street feel:

I got no homies, only street enemies
I got no street anemones
In my sixteen dollar hotel room
Yeah Yeah... Uh Huh... Yeah Yeah...
Thas Riiight Daaawg
In my sixteen dollar hotel room

Or a Cowboy rap:

My enemies left me without saying goodbye
Anemones have left me; they took my good guitar
My fish bowl has left me; I'm a hungry, lonely, thirsty man
*insert mournful harmonica*

Maybe a boy band rap:

Baybeee, I got no enemies just your heart
Baybeee, I got anemones just like your heart
In my broken fish bowl just like my heart
Oh baybeee, I don't have the heart to break your heart
The way you broke my fishbowl...

OK, never mind.

Wednesday, January 18, 2006

Sigmund's Wife

So what does Sigmund's wife wear to bed?
A Freudian slip.

Sunday, January 15, 2006

CIA, Pakistan, Anger

A few words about the CIA attack on the village of Damadola in Pakistan:

1. What a stupid thing to do. Remember Jean Charles de Menezes? The Brazilian fellow who was murdered on the London Underground? Yeah, well this is that all over again. But is anyone going to mourn 17 invisible, unimportant Pakistani village children, their mothers and fathers? No. Because we're too busy drinking oil and watching the latest installment of American Idol. Please. 12 West Virginia coal miners die in a freak accident and there are inquests and memorials. 17 Pakistani villagers are murdered due to misinformation and *cough cough* oops? Each loss of life is tragic, but you wouldn't know it in the world we live in.

2. If the CIA did carry out the attack, why didn't they cover it the HELL up? Pakistan is in enough trouble as it is. The last thing we need is a wanton (and well publicized) violation of our airspace and sovereignty in this manner. Obviously some pompous jackass safe and sound in a bunker miles underground (anyone seen Dick Cheney lately?) wanted credit for this action and leaked the story to the media. "Hey, we just sent jets 50 miles into Pakistani territory to blow some innocent villagers to smithereens!! But say we got Al Zawahiri... you know... to make it seem legit. And give the CIA credit... we rule!" Now the Pakistani government will be under fire from the domestic, hell-bound, bearded ones and many other more reasonable people. I mean, are we a sovereign nation or aren't we?

3. So why couldn't the Pakistan Air Force carry out the attack, if it was so completely necessary to have one? Last time I checked, we had planes. And pilots. And our President seems to enjoy being W's blue eyed boy. So much for "friends" and "allies."

4. If you happen to be American, I'm sure this is all worlds away for you; impoverished Pakistani villagers? Sixteen of them? Seventeen? Who cares? But, any day, some hotshot pilot could get "confirmed and accurate information" that Osama bin Laden is hanging out just chillin' in my parents backyard. (Why he would do that, I do not know. Anyone who's been to my place knows all the green grass and pretty flowers are in the front.) And that scares me. Because the pawn on the plane will do what he's told to do. And governments will deny all knowledge. And then the Pakistani government will "file a protest." What bloody good does "filing a protest" do anyway? "Here. Piece of paper saying we're kind of mad. OK, I feel better now."

My only real comfort is that God is watching. Sometimes I wish He were more Republican... you know, preemptive and irrationally angry; He could smite F-16s from the sky when He sees them flying on missions supported by flimsy, plain wrong or non-existent evidence. That would make me happy. It'd be like the Bermuda Triangle... The Bermuda Earth... featuring God... the Omnipresent, Omniscient Smiter of Errant F-16s (and Other Flying Objects). Now there's a good reality show for you. None of that "Skating with Celebrities" crap we're going to have inflicted on us later this month.

Monday, January 09, 2006

Airports, Parents, California

So a lot has happened since my last post, one of those things being a lot of not posting. I'll try to get you up to speed with a few choice snippets.

I flew to Los Angeles and back with my brother over the Christmas holidays. Keep in mind this meant we were on no less than FOUR airliners operating in United States airspace in about a 14 day period; two long haired Pakistani Muslim (or so they like to think) males (or so they like to think) of around the age where they go through the I-wanna-blow-myself-up stage. We were stopped for extra security checks (you know shoes off, socks smelly, why is your underwear dirty type of searching) not once, not twice, but ZERO freakin times. I felt like walking back to the TSA people and saying, "Hey. We're Muslim. We're brothers. We have John Walker Lindh hairstyles. We're flying on the SAME PLANE. Aren't you going to probe us or something?"

The funny thing is I always get stopped when I fly alone. Hell, my harmless (I mean, they even LOOK harmless) parents were stopped and searched every flight when they visited me in May (I don't know what happened on their visit last month). Apparently my brother has this weird disarming quality that affects only officials of the government of the United States of America. Remember when the U.S. Embassy decided he wasn't even enough of a threat to be fingerprinted?

Anyway, this incident leads me to believe that either

a) The United States government does not actively indulge in racial and ethnic profiling, or
b) The United States government actively indulges in racial and ethnic profiling, and SUCKS at it.

So, as I mentioned parenthetically above, my parents visited again this December. This time it was just to "be near the boys" since they couldn't come up with a good reason for spending 12 days in freaking DAYTON OHIO. Yes.

2 return tickets to the United States: $4000 (or thereabouts)
Cost of hotel room for two weeks: $500 (we got a good deal)
Total public bus fare over the two weeks: $20 (fearless explorers are my parents)
Getting to "be near the boys" in Dayton, Ohio: PRICELESS

Does not compute.

California was fun. Some highlights:

1. I'm 99.99% certain I saw a cross-dressing transvestite (is that possible?) prostitute on the Los Angeles metro this one day. Just sharing a subway car with that him/her made me want to take a shower. ALONE. To get myself CLEAN. He/she was going to North Hollywood. I know this not because I followed him/her, but because he/she did not get off at Hollywood and Vine, which was the second to last stop for the Red Line, which was where I escaped from the train. Lesson #1: Stay away from North Hollywood.

2. My brother and I took this "Homes of the Stars" tour; Mulholland Drive, Beverly Hills and such and such. My overall impression of the tour was, "God, stupid rich people spend a lot of money to live near each other in cramped, crappy houses on steep hills with narrow winding roads." Maybe when I'm rich and stupid, I'll do that too. Our tour guide was Scottish though. That was fun. Nothing quite like touring Hollywood with a Scotsman. I mean, it makes things so authentic!

3. So my uncle and aunt (in California, this is where we stayed) got this weird idea that my brother and I were missing Ohio. So they took us to Palm Springs for a day where the temperature was TWENTY DEGREES (- 8 or so for you centigrade types) and the wind was BRISK and MURDEROUS. I don't really know what they were thinking... "You know, it's been forever since we've been pointlessly unkind to our sons and our house guests..."

4. On the return journey, McDonalds at LAX tried to sell me a parfait for $3.25! if I weren't so addicted to them, I'd quit eating the dollar parfaits here in Dayton in protest. My protests never really work out anyway. I'm back to using UDF for milk and ice cream and such as well. *sigh*

I just realized I listed seeing a cross-dressing prostitute as one of the "highlights" of my visit to California... I must need help.