One more reason why I hate people.

I woke up at 4:30 am yesterday so I could do something I've never done before. I went to a day-after-Thanksgiving sale. At Wal-Mart. I don't even have much Christmas shopping to do this year, and what I plan on doing is mostly done. I went for me.

Sometimes-not often, but sometimes-I'm a fucking idiot.

Last week I watched a documentary all about Wal-Mart called Wal-Mart: The High Cost of Low Prices. Although it was pretty one-sided, it definitely got its many points across about how bad Wal-Mart is for its employees, the environment, and the US economy. I went anyway, because the appeal of getting a laptop for $350.00 was too hard to resist for a guy who has been posting from "Safe Mode" for the past 2 months. Don't ask.

I arrived at 5am, just in time for the doors to open. I was expecting a crowd, I suppose, but nothing prepared me for what I saw when I actually arrived at the parking lot. The line to get inside (where it was MUCH warmer) stretched about 100 yards from the front door. People were already pushing and shoving, yelling things like "I was in front of you, don't go cutting" and "I've been here for 2 hours and you weren't in front of me." Wal-Mart employees were walking the length of the line (outside, in the cold) trying to calm people and admonishing them not to take the overturned carriages as there were carriages aplenty inside. Overturned carriages, you ask? Yes. These they were using to form a boundary, alongside which we could form a line, otherwise it would quickly degenerate into a howling mob. When they finally started letting people in there was so much elbowing, pushing, screaming and swearing you would have thought the mouth of Hell had yawned open behind us.

I put my hands in my coat pockets, put on my "don't fuck with me" face (which isn't much different from my normal visage), and concentrated on getting inside, getting my laptop, and leaving as soon as humanly possible.

It took me 15 minutes to get from the front door to the electronics department, located in the rear, because of the crowds. When I got there I was told the laptop I was looking for was in the front of the store, so back I went.(Of course it was. Why would it be with the rest of the fucking computers?) It only took me 10 more minutes to get back, because I took a shortcut through the womens' section. When I got there, the laptops were sold out.

Those who know me know I don't enjoy crowds even when they're well-behaved, which this one certainly was not. After waiting outside in the cold with these fucking cannibals, fighting my way to the back of the store where the item I wanted SHOULD have been, then having to go back in search of it only to find it sold out roughly 20 minutes after the doors opened, I was quite irritated. But not nearly as irritated as I was when a woman and her two children (both younger than 10) elbowed their way past me, each one of them carrying a laptop.

I made my way to the front of the store with the one item I did manage to get my hands on: a toothbrush. I needed a new one and figured I'd pick one up while I was there. Wal-Mart door security made certain to check my receipt to ensure I paid for it.

Yes, that's correct. I woke up at 4:30 the day after Thanksgiving to go to Wal-Mart and all I returned home with was a fucking toothbrush.

Today was much more laid back. You see, I awoke nursing a hangover obtained as a souvenir of my revels last night at the palatial estate of Dr. Robert J. Murk. He, Malach and I recorded a podcast for The Murk and Malach Radio Show. Now you can hear the voice of the Piper, sissies! Tom Cruise stopped by, too. I remember being quite mellow as the wine cellar at Chez Murk was well-stocked prior to my arrival, so I was not the usual snarling ball of hatred and rage you all know and love. Truthfully, I remember doing the show (and I remember that Mrs. Murk makes a mean apple pie) but I don't recall much of what I said. I suppose I'll be one of the first to download the podcast when it becomes available at Hill-TV, just to see if I said anything brilliant (more likely the opposite).

Also this morning I watched The Warriors, one of the coolest cult films ever. Now I want to start my own gang. Caaaaaaaaaan Yooooooou Dig IT??????????

If you haven't joined Minimum Security yet, you should. It's free, after all, and it's where my official forum for my Hill-TV Book of the Week column is located. Get over there and join, snapperhead!

And oh yeah...Malach tried to kiss me last night, but I told him that's not the way I roll.

Who Am I?

Who am I?

I have secret prisons throughout the world in which I torture terrorists. Or people who may be terrorists. Or people who may know terrorists, or look like terrorists. Or people I just don't like. I have hundreds of people detained at a federal prison who have yet to be charged with anything. I have one of my own citizens, by all appearances a scumbag, who is finally being charged with a crime after being held for 3 years. (I thought I also have a Constitution that forbids exactly that kind of thing, but I guess not.) I have an administration who labels everyone who disagrees with their policies or their war as "unpatriotic" or "unsupportive" of the troops. I have a President who believes in Divine Rule, as God clearly wanted him for the job (despite the fact that he was elected-twice-by an extremely narrow margin and more than a good possibility of shenanigans). I have a Vice-President who, if not currently the most evil man in the world, is right up there with whoever is. I have a scientific community, once the greatest in the world, now opting to conduct their research outside my borders so as to avoid religion and politics dictating and influencing their work. I have a so-called moral majority leader advocating assassination of Venezuela's president and informing a town in Pennsylvania that God is going to visit the ten plagues upon them for rejecting intelligent design as school curriculum.

I have the worst relationship with the rest of the world since my founding.

I advocate human rights, yet I do nothing to stop genocide in Darfur. I mouth objections to China about Taiwanese independence and berate their prison system, yet I won't allow the United Nations to see the inside of my military prisons. I support the UN as long as I run the show; when they complain about me, they can go to hell. I endorse conservationism, but I'm the only nation who refuses to sign the Kyoto accords and I offer tax breaks to citizens who buy SUV's.

I am the most technologically, economically, militarily, socially and scientifically advanced nation in the world, and I could not respond effectively to one (very large) natural disaster. I refused the offer of medical help, although it was sorely needed, from one of my neighbors whom I do not like. Months later, many of those affected by this disaster still have no permanent place to live, and I have decided to stop paying for their relief. I have also decided to cut my social service programs by billions, ensuring that many more of my poorest citizens will go hungry (even though I produce enough food within my own borders to feed my people), while simultaneously allowing my richest citizens to keep more of their money.

I am America. And I need new leadership. Someone to fix what's broke. Someone who gives a good shit about MY welfare, because the current guys in charge don't seem concerned about things like civil liberties, foreign relations, social welfare, scientific advancement, environmentalism, and border security.

Don't tell them I said that, though. Disagreeing with them only gets you a starring role in a Kafka novel.


In other news, The Muppet Show Season One is out on DVD. This makes me happy. The next installment of The Angry Piper's Book of the Week is up at Hill TV. Hopefully that makes you happy.

The new Minimum Security Forums are up and running, so head on over and join. I have my own little section over there, where I will be posting update information for both this blog and my Book of the Week column at the Hill. It's also a forum, so feel free to chime in and let me know what you think about the column; like whether you agree or disagree with my assessment of a book, your own book recommendations, or even if you just want to tell me that being a well-read, pompous ass doesn't make me the final word on things literary. Just be nice and express yourself intelligently (i.e. have a point and get to it).

Hope to see you all over there (and that includes you folks from parts west).

Cheers.

Job Insecurity

I have been at my current place of employment, a for-profit social service agency, for two years now. My job used to be pretty cool. I had lots of independence and flexibility; I felt valued and respected; and I was getting paid enough so that I could overlook the shitty health insurance my company offers.

That was the first year.

This past year, my job has sucked royally. The for-profit agency I work for is tanking big time and the rats (i.e. my co-workers) are fleeing the sinking ship. I liken my agency to those cartoon images of drowning people...remember how when (insert cartoon character here) would drown, he/she would hold up their fingers and begin a slow ten count? Well, my agency is somewhere around eight, and there's no life preserver in sight.

About a year ago, the eldritch, Lovecraftian entity known only as "The State" took an interest in our program, as we had grown exponentially in the previous year. Although we are for-profit, we are subsidized by "The State" and we had been lacking in our sacrifices to this blasphemous, amorphous monstrosity; to wit: the beast found our pitiful records to be inadequate. It shut us down completely; we entered a kind of stasis where we could admit no new people to our program but could continue to provide services to those already admitted. The State began a vile, soul-shattering ritual known to the initiated few as an "Audit"; it began inserting, poking and prodding its slime-kissed tentacles and loathsome pseudopods into every crack and crevasse of our records. "I do this for you," The State intoned in a booming, maddening, sanity-blasting voice, "that you may better please me in the future."

And so The State instructed us on what we were doing wrong, with clear instructions on how to go about atoning for our transgressions and appeasing it thenceforth. In other words, it told us what was unacceptable and showed us how it wanted us to document things from now on.

Well, all that would be great, if my boss wasn't such a fucking idiot.

I have written about my boss before. For those who need a reminder, I wrote that I could list the past two years on my resume as managerial experience, because my boss has shown me every day how NOT to be an effective manager. He is a control freak. He is a small person who does not like to be questioned. He changes his mind every day, so that there is no such thing as a coherent "policy" for our agency; "policy" is arbitrary and changes with the boss's mood. There is no such thing as delegation as my boss doesn't want anyone to outshine him or even appear remotely competent, so he insists on being the first and last word on everything. Everyone needs to run everything by him all the time, which would be fine if he didn't simultaneously affect this annoyed attitude whenever anyone asks him what the policy du jour is.

For example: I have a situation with a client, so I go to my boss and he tells me to do A, B, and then C. Next month, I have the exact same issue with another client, so I do A, B, and then C...and my boss tells me I should have done B, A, and then F, because that's the way we always do it. That's annoying enough, but it gets worse, because sometimes he'll tell me to do A, B, and C...and I tell the client that's what we're gonna do, and then a week later, after A, B, and C have been done, my boss changes his mind and makes me do something different, which basically pisses off the client (and me) and makes me the bad guy.

In short, to borrow a great term from Dr. Mantodea, my boss is an asshat.

See, although The State has been gracious enough in its omnipotence to tell us what we are to do, my boss has decided that he doesn't like being told what to do, so we're gonna do things his way (which is what got us in trouble in the first place). In other words, fuck The State.

Of course, we exist purely at the whim of The State, who could (and would) obliterate us utterly with but a thought, especially if it found out we ignored its advice. In fact, the only reason we're still here is because of my former officemate, a lovely lady who is well-versed in the proper way of appeasing The State, as it's what she did before coming to work for us. Since starting with us she worked long, thankless hours to get us in compliance with The State and trained everyone in the proper way of doing things.

My boss, while needing her, hated her. She was, after all, competent and knew what the fuck she was doing. It's because of her and no thanks to him that The State saw fit to allow us to open for business again. So she asked for more money. She deserved it. She also asked for more responsibility.

My boss told her there was neither more money nor room for advancement for her at our agency. So, after a week of deliberation, she very professionally gave her two weeks notice in a resignation letter that I, The Angry Piper, typed and proofread for her.

Upon receipt of said letter, my boss the asshat told her she could finish out the day and leave.

It's hard to express in such general terms what this meant, but I can't get more specific as I still work there. You see, with that incredibly idiotic decision, my boss the asshat did something so unbelievably contrary to the company's best interest that he pretty much ensured our demise. In the weeks that followed, we have slowly started to creep back to the bad habits that angered The State in the first place. And all this because my boss is a petty man who feels threatened when anyone knows more than he does about anything (and believe me, there are a lot of us who run mental circles around him). In this case, my officemate knew more than he ever will about how The State wants things done, so she basically got shit-canned.

My boss wasn't always this way. In fact, he was actually pretty cool. As long as you did your work and informed him of any problems as soon as possible, he had no problems with you. He wasn't the type to be looking over your shoulder. I loved my job, and I had worked for worse people. While that's still true, over the past year my boss has turned into a real dick.

Now we're on borrowed time, and most of us are looking for new jobs. No one has received a raise in over a year. My officemate is gone, and I liked her an awful lot. Now I have a fucking Fundamentalist, born-again Christian who has been in my office ONE DAY and has already informed us that she won't be going to see the new Harry Potter movie because of all the witchcraft contained therein. Now, I'm no Harry Potter fan, but that's just stupid and ignorant.

Even though she's a nice enough person otherwise, fuck her. And fuck my boss, and fuck the place I work.

I just hope I can find a job before I'm forced to.

Intelligent Design

Yay Pennsylvania! Boo Kansas!

For months now I've been contemplating a rant on Intelligent Design reminiscent of the Angry Piper of old, like my rant on The War on Terror. For whatever reason (probably simple reluctance to deal with idiots espousing said belief) I have held off. I guess it's time I chimed in.

Now, when I say espousing said belief, I don't mean that anyone who believes in a creator is an idiot. I am one such person; I have often detected the FSM's noodly appendage apparent in our daily lives. (No, seriously, I do believe in God; I do NOT believe in organized religion, but my beliefs aren't the focus of this blogpost).

I was pleasantly surprised and simultaneously dismayed the other day when I heard about the latest ID rulings. First: the good news: In Pennsylvania, the court case on whether Intelligent Design should be taught in schools wrapped up its arguments. The judge hasn't officially ruled yet. But THE PEOPLE have!!!! On Tuesday the 8th, EVERY member of the PA School Board (all supported ID as curriculum) was voted out of office. Stings, don't it?

However, in Kansas, the School Board unanimously passed the State standards tests should include Intelligent Design. While they didn't come out and say it was mandatory for science teachers to teach it in their classes, by making it part of Statewide standards they basically made it so; anyone who doesn't get taught ID will be at a disadvantage they wouldn't experience anywhere else in the country (although there are more states lined up for that nonsense, too: New Mexico and Ohio among them). Kansas even changed the literal definition of science to allow for a broader interpretation of natural law; i.e. in Kansas, "science" may consider unprovable, supernatural or unexplained causes in scientific explanation.

And they think this is a step forward?

I would post more of my thoughts on this insanity, but Dr. Mantodea has expressed it far better than I could. Check out his blog.

In other news, it seems none of you cared about my Bruins game experience. Check out my third installment of the book-of-the-week; it has been up at Hill TV for a few days now. 3 books in 6 weeks. I'm not exactly living up to the "of-the-week" part. Dr. Murk has been discussing a possible podcast so you may soon be able to hear the seething hatred and bile that is the voice of the Angry Piper. In the meantime, check out the Murk and Malach Show. It's funny, and they managed to get the Pope as their guest the first time out! Dick Cheney is the guest this time.

UPDATE: This speaks for itself.

Cheers.

Go! Go! Black and Gold!!

First off, if you haven't checked out Owen's page recently, go there now and look at his post on "The Many Faces of (Al) Gore." Go ahead. I'll wait.

Back? OK. Now let's all thank him for keeping those around.

The other night I got a phone call from my brother; he asked me what I was doing on Thursday. Usually, this is an invitation to go see a band my brother likes and I won't particularly like, no matter how much he tells me I should like them. This time he invited me to a hockey game, to see the Boston Bruins play the Florida Panthers.

"Nah," I said. I'm not what you'd call a sports fan. At all. I am not a member of Red Sox Nation. I don't follow the Patriots. I haven't watched the Celtics since I was in high school. And even though hockey is big in Boston, it's not important to me. I hope all my local teams win, but if they don't I'm not gonna care all that much.

Then he told me the seats were behind the glass. And they were free. I was unmoved. And oh yeah-the Dropkick Murphys were playing at the game. "OK, I'm in," I said. So we went to the Fleet Center-sorry...this week it's the Banknorth Center- and watched the B's kick the crap out of Florida. It was a good time, but I'd be lying (and not very convincingly) if I said I wasn't there to see the Dropkick Murphys more than the Bruins. It was a reversal for my brother and I, as he doesn't much care for the Murphys, and his opinion hasn't changed since Thursday.

So here are my two negative impressions of my first sporting event in decades: first, it's expensive as fuck. Two beers and a sausage sandwich for $17.00. That's fucking madness. The worst part was the beer was "Budweiser Select", which I wittily quipped was "a better class of shit", but it was the only thing they had (or so I thought until I later found the guy selling Heineken, Amstel and Sam Adams- I coulda died, I tell ya).

Second, the bathrooms at the Fleet Center aren't big enough. Nothing like having to wait in line to drain the dragon to get you irritated quick.

A cool thing happened: My bro and I were late, stuck in Boston traffic (which I can't believe is not the worst traffic in the country). By the time we got into our seats, 7 minutes or so had gone by in the first period. During those seven minutes, the puck went over the glass and landed in my brother's seat. The kid behind us got to keep it, and since we weren't there yet, my brother didn't get a puck in the face.

Now the last and (until Thursday) only time I had seen the Murphys was at the Strand Theatre in Providence, RI earlier this year, with my hetero-lifemate, Chuck. We were both less than impressed. They were ok, but it was almost impossible to enjoy the show as the place was packed tighter than Dick Cheney's ass and was, horror of horrors, an all-ages show. We didn't know that until we got there. Nothing like having a fifteen year-old girl look at you and sing "Kiss me, I'm shitfaced."

Not likely, shortcake.

Those who know me know two things about me: 1) I am claustrophobic. 2) I have zero patience with annoying people (especially teenagers), and even less when I'm feeling claustrophobic.

It's a wonder no one died. As it is, the place was so hot it made the big guy leave lest he pass out. I left before I started swinging. Add the fact that the Murphys had just replaced their longtime piper Spicy McHaggis (it's his real name, honest) with the less-proficient Scruffy Wallace, and it was a disappointment for Chuck and I both. Spicy ruled, and the aptly named "Spicy McHaggis Jig," could've been written about me, the Angry Piper, as it pretty much deals with a bagpiper who digs the big girls. They played the song anyway, without Spicy, but it just made me miss him more.

Thursday I got to see the Dropkick Murphys at a different venue. The Boston Police Department Pipe Band played them onto the stage. It was very cool hearing those guys.

It was a better show than Lupo's, especially since the Bruins won, too; it put the band in high spirits. They were good, but not great...they didn't play their best stuff at all and aside from "Boys on the Docks" there wasn't much I liked. The other exception was their rendition of "Fields of Athenry", a traditional song that always gets me weepy (yep-ME). It gets me weepy even without the story the band told of a soldier they knew who was killed in Iraq, leaving behind his wife and two kids, who requested the song be played at his funeral.

Yeah. Even the Emotionally Dead Inside Piper can't stand up to that. The tears were flowing. Well, ok...not flowing. More like welling up. More like glistening, actually.

I had something in my eye. Heck, it'll take more than that to make me cry.