How do you save daylight, anyway?

I'm usually good at sleeping; I guess I'm lucky like that. It frustrates the hell out of me when I have trouble falling asleep or when I wake up every hour on the hour for 5 hours until I can't sleep anymore. But like I said, such occasions are rare.

So it's on these occasions that my thoughts turn to the people I work with - people who have been homeless for a good portion of their lives. They don't sleep. For many of them, they've never been able to because sleeping means nightmares about past trauma. Or they simply can't stop their brains from churning through thought after thought after thought. Or they learned the behavior while living on the street (how are you supposed to sleep when it's 15 degrees outside, you have to maintain constant vigilance to avoid being robbed of the few possessions you have, or you're in a shelter with 200 other people you neither know nor trust?)

It's these thoughts that have led me to theorize about mental illness. If sleeping is what reboots our brains, enabling us to better solve problems and process past events, then doesn't it make sense to say that a lack of sleep contributes to mental illness? I mean, everyone goes through shit. Some way worse than others (for some fucked up reason). But the ability to cope doesn't follow the extent of trauma perfectly. That is, some people who have seen hell are inexplicably well-adjusted, while others who have led relatively stable lives can't live with themselves.

Of course there's no simple explanation for what causes mental illness and there are definitely many contributing factors. But to this point I guess I've looked at the sleep thing the other way around, where those who are mentally ill don't sleep. But I think it's possible that those who don't sleep can be more susceptible to depression, anxiety, etc. Maybe even psychotic disorders? Who knows, really? It would at least partially explain the variance in people's abilities to adapt, so I think it's worth considering. (Most likely this theory has been thoroughly researched and studied already, but I don't give a shit, ok? Get off my back already. It's like when I invented the Knork in 5th grade and then I saw it on an infomercial 2 years ago. But even in the 5th grade I realized the inevitable problem of cutting yourself when the side of your fork is a knife.)

Anyway, why I'm even writing about this is I lost one of my insomniac friends last night. She was extremely well-liked throughout the homeless community because, despite everything she had gone through, she was still personable and caring. She was 41. And I can't help but wonder if she had ever been able to get some truly peaceful rest like I enjoy every night, whether she'd still be alive.

Here's to hoping that wherever she is, she's sleeping contentedly. Goodbye, Steph.

Heaven & Hell

At dinner with some friends the other night, we stumbled upon the topic of religion, specifically the afterlife. Considering that 3 of the 4 of us at the table were Formons (and the other grew up in Utah as an Episcopalian), this scenario was perhaps inevitable, even without the aid of intoxication.

So off we went, primarily evaluating the Mormon concept of Heaven and such. Here was my thought process:

1. Mormons believe you have to accept Mormonism (and do a bunch of other stuff) to be in their version of Heaven.

2. If Heaven is full of Mormons, we can assume it will be similar to a place on Earth that's full of Mormons.

3. Utah County is full of Mormons.

4. Therefore, it's likely that Mormon Heaven will be similar to Utah County.

5. Utah County is my personal Hell.

6. Mormon Heaven = my personal Hell

The most persuasive missionary in the world couldn't convince me to spend eternity driving an SUV from the MLM company where I work to the big box stores and chain restaurants I have to patronize.

I did what?

So my nephew posted the following on Facebook:

"Joseph Moore wonders why all of his text books are completely in English, but in the glossary they have both spanish and english terms. (no racism intended)"

Good point. Maybe they just printed the same glossary for both the English and Spanish versions. Who knows? But here's what his friend posted in reply:

"Too many people who cant speak english in our country (a little racisim intended)."

OK, so a 14-year-old kid has an ignorant point of view. Who cares?

For some reason I can't explain, I do. I felt compelled to respond to this post and lecture this kid on intolerance and how arbitrary it is to presume any sort of superiority based on the language you were raised to speak. Will he make fun of me? Yes, definitely. Will he actually think about what I said? No, definitely not.

But I couldn't help it. I get so worked up and frustrated whenever I see/hear such blatantly ridiculous and hurtful things, no matter what the source. I have no problem with opposing points of view, but not when those points of view are completely bigoted and/or unfounded.

"You're being intolerant of intolerance and therefore completely contradicting yourself" Fox News would say. True. Promoting tolerance means we must accept EVERYTHING, including child molestation, incest, etc. All or nothing. God or Satan. Black or white.

Otherwise we're simply lost souls, with no moral directive. I, for one, am just waiting to find out my next move. Who knows, maybe it will be to start up another argument with a 9th grader.

Genealogy - I am doing it?

I've been telling people for years that my great-great-great (or something like that) grandfather started the Salt Lake Tribune. I remember learning that when I was a kid, but I've never seen any solid evidence.

Then the other day there was an article in the Trib about the paper's history and it mentioned "Godbeites". My ancestor's name was William S. Godbe, so I did some tedious and painstaking research into the matter. I found this article on Wikipedia about Godbeites and this one about Godbe himself.

To those of you not in my family: I know it's boring to read about other people's heritage. But I found this fairly interesting as Godbe was a former Mormon who had major political differences with the church and used writing as his avenue of expression.

I doubt he was as good an artist as I am though.

Berth Day

I've done a lot of thinking. What has come of it? Not much. Besides a blog, of course. But this "thinking" I've done specifically pertains to a certain day of significance (according to most others besides me).

Here's the thing about my birthday, and birthdays in general: Who gives a shit?

OK, so a few people probably give some moderate-to-gigantic-sized shits about the celebration of the day I was born.

But to me it's another day. I don't really care about other people's birthdays, so I don't expect anyone to care about mine. Simple as that. Is it selfish? Perhaps. Or does it just make sense because, by definition, we were all born...and the annually-occurring calendar day that marks our chronological progression is less relevant to our lives than every other day in the year? Am I right?

I know lots of people like to have a day that's all about them (and I'm not judging those people), but for me I don't like recognition for things I had nothing to do with. If your response to that is, "Well, you made it this far", you're just insulting the dead. Shame on you. And if your response is, "Well, you should throw a party for your parents then", you're asking too much from me. I love my parents, but I hate throwing parties.

Lindsay's family (who is unrelentingly awesome to me) wanted to throw me a birthday dinner, but I didn't want one. I was totally fine with a family dinner, but I didn't want to be the "main event" or "special guest" or whatever. So, I asked Lindsay to let her family know that I didn't want presents, cake, or any special recognition. It ended up working against me somewhat in that by NOT wanting to make a big deal of it, it sort of became a big deal. See, her family is big on birthdays and mine isn't. Simply a difference of upbringing.

While I'm engaging in this stream of consciousness, I'll say this:

Is it just me, or does receiving a birthday card/check in the mail from your grandma make you feel like such a kid? And receiving a birthday card/check in the mail from your parents make you feel like such an adult?

So to say the least, I'm not sure how to proceed. One thing's for sure: I won't refuse a delicious BBQ dinner, no matter what the occassion. If you want to kill a pig in my name, god bless you in your efforts.

Wannabe TV critic? Nah, just bitter old Jake.

Did you watch Conan O'Brian on his Tonight Show debut last night? I did. On the plus side: Jay Leno is off TV--for now (I've heard he'll have his own show again in the fall). Besides that, not much to be excited about.

Let me explain.

So, I like Conan alright. He can be pretty funny and he used to have some pretty cool musical guests on his old show--sometimes relatively "underground" bands, at least compared to your average late night talkshow guests.

He definitely has his annoying quirks, like pointing out RANDOM things and sticking to the standard monologue bullshit routine where he references current events and makes a wisecrack that usually fails to be clever/original. Who knows how much of that is really him and how much is just the writers sticking to what has traditionally worked? I sure don't, but it still makes for shit TV.

Anyway, his "new show" brought something that his old show lacked (but lacked in a good way): a HILARIOUS sidekick/joke partner. I absolutely hate the additions those Paul Shaffers and Kevin Eubankses try to make. Conan had it right before when Max Weinberg wasn't given a mic. Who the hell cares what the lead musician has to say?

Well, Conan now has ANDY RICHTER (how's the CAPS LOCK for sarcastic emphasis working for me?) to laugh obnoxiously into the microphone after every joke. The worst part is, Andy doesn't do anything else. His sole purpose is to be that annoying asshole that detracts from just about every late night show ever made.

And finally, his first guests were Will Ferrell, who has decided to stick to a life of shit films where he acts TOTALLY WACKY, gets chased, falls down, etc etc...and Pearl Jam. I just looked at the listing for tonight and it says he's having Green Day perform (Why do people still listen to Green Day?)

All this sent a clear message to me that although it's still Conan, the show will continue forward L.A.-style, which just won't do it for me. I'll just stick to my usual progrems.

Taco Taco

Is it just me, or is walking into Taco Bell like stepping into a parallel universe? The food isn't Mexican, American, or even Mexican-American as far as I'm concerned. Once you get past the standard taco and burrito on the menu, you start wandering into a previously unimaginable world of culinary combinations.

Then there's the layout, the color scheme, decor, window signs, etc. Unlike most other fast food places, I couldn't differentiate 1 Taco Bell from another from the inside if I tried. I think after walking through those double-doors and past the candy machines and bathroom down the hall, your mind is wiped clean of anything on the outside. Suddenly you've entered a world where Mountain Dew tastes good and nacho cheese comes on a taco...or burrito...or "chalupa"...or a thousand other things I'm sure.

But what really gives me the willies is the employees.

Taco Bell has an uncanny way of attracting some of Earth's strangest inhabitants to work there. Inevitably the person who takes your order will either be the world's biggest fan of Insane Clown Posse or too short/old to operate the cash register.

Today I went there and the lady who helped me looked like this:




She was really nice and all, but each thing I ordered she repeated back to me like I was in the drive-thru.

Me: "I'll have a grilled chicken burrito."
Her: "ONE...CHICKEN....BURRITO" ( as she touches the screen)
Me: "Yeah, and a cheesy gordita crunch."
Her: "ONE....GORDITA....CRUNCH."
Me: "Yep. And a small drink."
Her: "ONE...SMALL...DRINK. IS THAT ALL?"
Me: "Yeah that's it."
Her: "OK WE HAVE ONE...CHICKEN...BURRITO, ONE...GORDITA...CRUNCH, ONE...SMALL...DRINK. YOUR TOTAL IS $4.82."

I used to work across the street from a Taco Bell and I'd go there just about every day for lunch. The girl who was usually behind the counter would always give me a free drink and a senior discount, and sometimes (if I was lucky) the entire meal free. That doesn't really support my theory, just an interesting anecdote while I'm thinking about Taco Bell.

Buff Fay

Easter dinner. Went there. It's huge. Wasn't disappointed. That's all.

Shoot 'em up!

Scanning the headlines on Sunday, I saw the following: "Accidental shooting sends man to hospital"; "Salt Lake City police investigate drive-by shooting"; "7 residents, 1 nurse die in nursing home shooting."

Interesting - there wasn't a single one that read, "Man saves the day by using gun for self-defense." In fact, I can't remember the last time I saw a story even remotely close to that (outside of cops doing so).

And I was naive enough to believe that the Utah state legislature actually passed a bill to legalize loaded guns in cars. There's no way they'd be that stupid!

MORE Claypool

He's playing a Whamola bass. I googled "Les Claypool instrument weird" to figure that out.

No one likes to be viewed as a "Project"

I did something pretty out-of-character this week. It was Wednesday night and I didn't feel like being lazy so I went to the good old LDS church to see if dudes were playing basketball. They were! It was pretty fun and it turns out most of them are neighbors of ours so we were all pretty chummy. So they asked me if I wanted to come play at their game on Saturday because a few of them weren't going to be able to make it. I said sure.

I got to the game a little early Saturday and was chatting with one of my teammates. It was amusing because he was asking me questions as if to make conversation, but they were mostly driven towards figuring out if I was Mormon. "So are you married? How long have you been married? So how old are you then? Did you play much church ball growing up? Boxers or briefs or...?" OK, not really the last one, but you get the picture. My answers were fairly ambiguous as I didn't feel like being profiled.

Then he pulled out the big guns. "Did you grow up in the church?" I wanted to say something like, "No, I wasn't aware children lived here" but I decided not to be a smart ass. I gave him a brief summary (wouldn't you like to know?) and hoped that would be the end of my interrogation. Nope. "Well, church is at 1:00 and we'd love to have you. You know where it's at." What was I expecting, right?

I laughed, but again felt an urge to come up with a clever rebuttal. Later when I was telling this story some friends suggested I say, "Really? That's not what the letter I got from LDS Headquarters said." Not bad. Some other options:

"OK, but it will depend on the outcome of my trial."

"Sorry, I administer gay weddings every Sunday at 1."

"Is it BYOB?"

"I would but the pentagram tattooed on my arm gets inflamed around children."

"It's funny cause I was going to invite you to my weekly trip to Wendover."

"Can I bring my wives?"

Because I like beating dead horses

There's too much on my mind to coherently say what I want to about the gay rights situation in Utah, but I have to say something. I'm finding it harder and harder to respect opposing viewpoints on the matter, and it doesn't help when backlash movements like the Sacred Ground Initiative (as if we needed a reminder of their self-righteousness) pop up.

Don't get me wrong, I'm a fan of the slippery slope. I don't want to be bit by a shark, so I don't even step foot in any state that borders an ocean. I'll die if I get too close to the sun, so I don't even jump. If I eat sushi I might get mercury poisoning, so I don't talk to anyone who's either from Japan or above middle class.

And just like my jokes, this is stupid. GROW UP EVERYBODY. Treat people like people and not parasites. No matter how conceited you are, others are not here to thwart your existence (with the exception of Wal-Mart execs and perhaps terrorists).

I'm going to feel completely vindicated when religious fanaticism shows up in the DSM.

To my wife on her first day of school

So you started school today and it made me reminisce about my scholarly beginnings. Here's some advice for you, based on personal experience...

1. When your teacher gives the class an assignment, ask her, "Do I have to do this?" She will most likely say, "No, you don't have to." Go ahead and ignore the assignment.

2. Don't whisper swear words to your friends. The teacher will inevitably find out and threaten to wash your mouth out with soap.

3. When the talent show comes, don't pretend like you do karate. The other kids will probably realize you're lying when they see that your black belt (which isn't even tied right) looks as if your mom took a white belt and dyed it. They will definitely realize it's fake when your turn comes to perform your talent and you have no idea what you're doing.

4. There is more than one way to think about Green Eggs and Ham. While you may believe that both the eggs and the ham are green, it's quite possible that only the eggs are green. After all, it's not "Green Eggs and Green Ham", right?

5. Don't believe the girl who says she got braces. Really she's just pressing her gum on the roof of her mouth. Just because you don't know what braces are yet doesn't mean you have to accept every claim your classmates make about them.

6. When your girlfriend...I mean boyfriend...let me start over. When your temporary childhood partner doesn't show up for class, it doesn't mean she/he doesn't like you anymore.

7. Fire drills are not real fires. They are just practice in case something like a fire happens. There's really no need to panic/cry.

8. Your teacher's name is Mrs. Miller.

I hope this is helpful. Good luck, knock 'em dead, break a leg, and do some other violent things that for some reason signify success.

Twelve Days of Christmas

Christmas is over and I've never been more relieved to say that than this year. Not that it wasn't good to see family and such but it was just too much driving, socializing, and terrible weather. It's almost to the point where I'd actually go see Four Christmases and find it funny. Wait, what the hell am I saying? There's no way it will ever come to that. Anyway, I know Thanksgiving is over, but this year I'm thankful that Christmas isn't actually 12 days long like in that stupid song. Can you imagine if it was?

That reminds me of something I was thinking about the other day. If the events described in the "Twelve Days of Christmas" actually transpired, here's what one's true love would have given to them in all:

12 partridges in pear trees

22 turtle doves

30 french hens

36 calling birds

40 golden rings

42 geese-a-laying

42 swans-a-swimming

40 maids-a-milking

36 ladies dancing

30 lords-a-leaping

22 pipers piping

12 drummers drumming

Here's the forumla for this: t=v(13-v), where 't' is the total number of that particular item given and 'v' is the number of that particular item in 1 verse. That way you don't have to manually count how many french hens or lords-a-leaping to get the total. (See graph above).

For me, getting all that stuff would make Christmas infinitely worse (See graph to the right). I'm not a big fan of birds, jewelry, servants, strippers, or the phrase "Jumping Jesus!" Bagpipes and drumlines aren't bad, but 22 and 12 of those, respectively, is just too much. I'm glad Lindsay decided to just get me Rock Band.

Write Another Blog, Dammit!

On Behalf of the Conspirators

Dear Climate Change "Skeptics":

It's about time we came clean to you. You've been right all along - we (the scientists, scholars, and crazy Al Gore worshippers) made it all up, and for no other reason than to exert our totalitarian-like power over you. Your paranoia, your doubts, your transformation of a scientifically substantiated explanation into a political debate - all COMPLETELY justified.

How silly it was of us to believe you'd actually fall for it. One way or another, you were so amply endowed with keen logic and reasoning skills and we therefore should have known better. When we said the earth's temperature was slowly and slightly increasing, you looked out your window in January and saw snow. You had the acuity to realize that if our theory were true, you'd be able to hike Everest in shorts and a t-shirt. And you probably know this, but when we said that the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change was comprised of hundreds of scientists from around the world, we really gathered a bunch of people to make shit up and publish it.

Perhaps it is presumptuous of us to draft a letter to you because, after all, you never took us seriously in the first place. But we still feel you are deserving of an apology and an explanation. Our intentions were somewhat innocent: we thought it would be fun to see if you'd actually change your habits, maybe by driving less and conserving more. Admittedly, however, it was wrong of us and we'll never do it again.

Sincerely,

Copernicus, Kepler, Newton, Galileo, Friedmann, and Lemaitre

PWRFL Power

I was lucky enough to stumble upon this crazy awesome singer-songwriter PWRFL Power today. This guy's hilarious and really good. But don't take my word for it, have a listen...




And visit his myspace page for some more enjoyment.

War on Christmas!!!!!!!!!!!

There isn't one. To anyone who is so deluded into thinking so: STOP PLAYING THE VICTIM AND GET A GRIP ON REALITY. We don't need to make holidays political and we don't need people crying about being persecuted for being Christian. If you truly believe you're being persecuted, here's some advice: hop in your SUV, drive out of your gated suburban community and to a place where not everyone's hardest decision is which of their 176 outfits they want to wear to Wednesday night's church activity.

Sticks and Stones

Lindsay and I matinee'd it up today and saw Quantum of Solace. It was alright - everything I'd expect from a Bond film: chase scenes (involving cars, boats, planes, and good old-fashioned running), cool fights, explosions, and sex. But I was eternally grateful that through all the violence, I didn't hear the f-word once. That would have been offensive! They had to make sure it was rated PG-13, right?

As usual, I couldn't help but look at the broader message this says about our society. I mean, my conversation with you could be "Rated R" if I drop a few choice words, but if I shot you, it would still be PG-13. In fact, I could do a lot more than just shoot you. I could break your wrist, stab you in the back, then throw you off a building and the MPAA would still deem my behavior acceptable for someone 13 or over to observe.

I don't necessarily have a problem with violence in films. My problem lies with a paternalistic organization that has assumed the role of moral regulator and whose priorities are out of whack. After all, is it really harmful to watch the portrayal of realistic dialogue?

Poor Poor Me

I'm exhausted. I can't keep debating with people over the issues de jour. It's quite literally making me mentally and physically tired. I'm sick of reading stories in the news, involving myself in discussions with people on Facebook etc., posting silly exaggerations or satirations (is that a real word?) of my opinions on this blog. I'm glad the election is over and I think everyone could benefit by having one fewer person blabbering about his political persuasions. So unless something unexpectedly comes up and energizes me, I'm going to lay off the controversial stuff for a while. You're welcome.

And I think this is blogging faux-pas (I hope you're playing a drinking game with French-English adaptations) but I just remembered one more pet peeve...when people use the word "literally" simply to add emphasis to what they're saying. For example, "I was literally blown away by what you said." Really? You were LITERALLY picked up and carried away by the gust of wind the other person produced when they uttered the words they did? Come on.