The Death of Enthusiasm

Me: So Karl, What do you think about the health care bill that passed the house and squeaked by the senate on Christmas eve?

KM: KARL MALONE DOND NEEDS NO HEALF CARE. KARL MALONE STILL HAS GOT SIX-PACK ABS. KARL MALONE’S SUPER AB WORKOUT VIDEOS DOND LIE.

Me: OK, I get that you might not need health care because you’re super wealthy, but don’t you think something needs to be done? The number of uninsured Americans is growing every year, and our current system is clearly at the mercy of unscrupulous and/or wrongheaded healthcare industry lobbyists.

KM: KARL MALONE OWN MANY BUSINESSES, AN HE TAKE CARE OF HIS WORKERS WIF FREE WORKOUT VIDEOS. THAT WAY, THEY GOT SIX-PACK ABS TOO. THE GOVEMENT CAND GIVE EVRYONE HEALF CARE WHO WAN IT. THAT CALLED COMMIENISM.

Me: Actually, universal health care would be no more socialist than half the government programs that we’ve had in place for decades like social security, our current tax code, or our education system (where the government uses taxes to provide a universal education for all citizens). All this socialism hysteria is just conservative fear mongers trying to rile people up. The real question is, can we provide adequate care without putting too much of a strain on the already fragile economy? How do we decide what needs to be done to keep the economic recovery going, and what can be spent to fix our healthcare system?

KM: YOU RIGHT CHASE, THE ECONMY IS PURDY BAD RIGHT NOW. KARL MALONE CAIND SELL AS MANY WOROUT VIDEOS AS HE USED TO. OBAMA DOND CARE ABOUT KARL MALONE PEOPEL.

Me: Well, I think Obama really cares about those working poor who can’t just “pull themselves up by their bootstraps,” to use a favorite phrase of the right wing. The good part of the current proposal is that it would do the following:

* forces the uninsured to obtain insurance.
* forces insurers to accept those with preexisting conditions.
* will reduce Medicare spending, purportedly by cuts, of about 500 billion dollars.

Maybe a plan closer to the now defunct Healthy Americans Act sponsored by Bob Bennett and Ron Wyden would have been better, but at this point we have to wait for the discrepancies to be hammered out between the house and senate versions to see what it actually looks like.

Of course when Bennett cooperated with one of his fellow senators for the good of the country, his own party turned on him and aired attack ads here in Utah blasting him for “working with a liberal Democrat.” Great job Republicans, you’re right! What we need is more partisan bickering so nothing ever gets done. How DARE a senator try to sponsor a bill with a LIBERAL DEMOCRAT! What’s next, LIBERAL DEMOCRATS serving on congressional committees along with CONSERVATIVE REPUBLICANS? People of differing viewpoints coming together to create a satisfactory compromise? Black is white, up is down! What has the world come to?!

KM: KARL MALONE DOND UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU SAID. HOWEVR, KARL WOULD LIKE TO INVITE EVRYONE OUT TO THE GRAN OPENING OF KARL MALONE’S WORKOUT VIDEO STORE. ALL KARL MALONE VIDOES ARE ON SALE FOR ONLY TWENTY DOLLARS EACH.

Me: Thanks for talking with me Karl, it was a very interesting conversation.

KM: NO, THE THANKS IS TO YOU CHASE. AND KARL MALONE SORRY ABOUT TOTALLY CHOKING IN THE ’97 FINALS.

Me: Apology not accepted, Karl.

Labels: Karl Malone, politics

For whatever reason, my tow best friends are pretty much gym rats. I don’t begrudge them this, and I actually admire their dedication. I feel strangely envious when they start discussing how sore their traps are, or how many reps(?) they do(?). (Sorry, as you can tell, I’m not up on the whole workin’ out lingo.)

I hate working out. Not like most people hate it, though. I think most people don’t like having to put in the effort of the workout. I don’t really mind the workout itself; it’s just the aftermath of the exercise that gets me. It seems like my body is not able to deal with lifting weights or exercising for any period of time without some kind of terrible breakdown afterward.

Have you every heard of a runner’s high? It’s supposed to be some sort of endorphin rush that runners get after pushing themselves to the limit. Well, I think I lack whatever chemical reaction is necessary for the “runner’s high.” I’ve never felt good after having worked out; I’ve actually never felt even just OK. Afterward, I’m always shaky and weak, my head hurts, I’m about to throw up, and on top of that I have exercise-induced asthma, which leaves me coughing and gasping for air for at least an hour. It’s almost as if God himself didn’t want me to touch a treadmill. Or, maybe he just doesn’t want me to have to spend time with people that go to the gym, A LOT (who are some of the most annoyingly self-absorbed people in the world).

Hold on—I understand that exercising regularly will lengthen your life and that people who do so are no doubt wise and full of truth and light. HOWEVER, I have also seen that a large number of regular gym users have crossed over from doing it for fitness reasons and being “concerned with my overall health and happiness” to “concerned about keeping my arms shaved/oiled and increasing the appearance of veins of my calves.” It’s actually kind of scary how narcissistic some of these people are, I mean sure, I spend a few minutes a day picking out my clothes and carefully messing up my hair before I leave in the morning, but it’s not my main interest. And again, I’m not Professor of Hobby Studies at Leisure University, but shouldn’t a hobby be something that is productive in some way? Like learning a skill? Or if you are going to lift weights, maybe it could be for a specific reason, like you play a sport and want to become stronger so you can excel at it?

Yet, the total end goal of these muscle guys is to look really big and muscled? Like, oh yeah, congrats dude, you’ve reached your goal, now go stare at yourself in the mirror for twenty minutes. Mmmmm brother, soak it in. It was so worth it, man! All that andro and creatine and protein powder and time in the tanning booth! It’s been a long, crazy ride, Bro Montana! Keep in touch!

Labels: Chase the misanthrope, pumpin iron

And now here is the long-awaited (by no one) account of the last day of the ACL Festival:

Since it rained all day on Saturday, the whole park was a mud patch on Sunday:



Many people just left their shoes in the mud and went barefoot.





All that MUD and LOVE and PEACE! It truly was the Woodstock of my generation!

In thirty years we'll all be subjected to an onslaught of nostalgic movies about the '09 ACl and how we "changed the world man!"

(Side note: Shut up already, baby boomers. 99 percent of you didn't do anything or change society in any way; you lived in suburban Ohio and voted Republican. Quit shoving all your self congratulatory nostalgia down our throats.)

Anyways, this guy certainly got into it:



As for the actual music, we started off listening to a Gospel band (which was pretty appropriate for Sunday morning). They were pretty adamant that everyone stand up and clap along with them. Clap! If you don't clap, you go to hell!




After that we saw Dodos:



They were good, but at this point I kind of had a case of music overload, so anything that wasn't a huge fat lady named Breezy running around playing a flaming washboard didn't really catch my attention. I guess it was a good thing that the next band we saw had just such a lady! Here is Rev. Payton's Big Damn Band:







The last picture I got from their website because I was too busy high-fiving everyone around me in excitement to take a picture of when she lit the washboard on fire. Seriously though, they were pretty cool live. Excitement!

Later, we went to a tent and watched the Broncos/Cowboys game for a while, then we went to see The Dead Weather (featuring Jack White on drums). They were fairly decent! Very gothy/scary raw garage punk!



To close out our long, glorious musical orgy, we saw Girl Talk. It was pretty cool, and I'm kind of surprised my Dad watched them as long he did, just given the sort of language that tends to crop up in the hip-hop music he uses.



So that was it. Three days, many bands, and one hell of a birthday present. Thanks Mom and Dad!

Labels: ACL