There is a short story on the local fishwrap’s website about the identity of some kid who was found dead after firefighters responded to a fire in the woods the other night and discovered it was the kid who was on fire. The story includes this vital piece of information regarding the investigation:
Detectives are investigating the death as suspicious
Let me get this straight. Some kid was found dead and on fire in the woods and the paper is reporting that police are guessing his death occurred under suspicious circumstances? No shit. Thank you, fishwrap, for shining light on the obvious.
Do the powers that be at the Sun really think its readers are that stupid?
That was a rhetorical question.
The Mexican senate sure has some balls for acting like it has a say in how the United States of America should be run in regards to how it treats its illegal immigrants. How about the Mexican senate tries to come up with a good action plan that would make living in that shithole of a country a little more tolerable and not make it seem like sneaking into the USA is the only way to make a go of it in life. Dumb fucks.
Oh, wait. Why should they when there are “sanctuary states” like the Peoples Republic of Maryland that welcome illegals — many of whom are hardened criminals — with open arms? Obviously there are dumb fucks on both sides of the border.
Michael Vick is apparently going to prison for dog fighting. Well, abusing animals, betting on dog fights and crossing state lines in the pursuit of dog fighting mostly. Don’t get me wrong. I’m a dog guy. In fact, I’m trying to score a hound from the local humane society as I type in order to make it member of my family. But come on. Dog fighting is bringing this cat down? What kind of shit is that?
Here’s a story. When I lived in West Bumfuck, Louisiana I worked with this lady who used to tell me about how her husband treated their dogs. In sum, like shit. When he got tired of feeding a dog or otherwise keeping it alive he killed it. Bullet in the skull. She didn’t have a problem with it either. Neither did anyone I heard her tell tales about his treatment of dogs to. Me personally, I couldn’t treat dogs like that, but they weren’t my dogs. The dogs were his property and he treated them as he wished.
Anyway, this chick’s husband happened to be the sheriff of the parish (county) in which we lived. Killing dogs for no good reason forced no repercussion on him and for as back lick as that place is he’ll probably be sheriff for life. He might not have electrocuted his dogs or hanged them or slammed them against walls to kill them, but he killed perfectly healthy dogs for no reason other than he didn’t want to keep feeding them anymore or bother to look for other homes for them.
To me, the only difference between Vick and this sheriff is that Vick bet on dogs. They’re both animal abusers in my view, so what else could be different? And now you have a $100 million athlete getting made an example of — career ruined, ability to earn a living gone, HARD TIME for up to three years — because he bet that Marmaduke could whoop Snoopy’s ass.
Meanwhile, 200 people have been murdered in cold blood in Baltimore this year and many of those killers will never be found. And those that are — if they even get convicted — will probably serve less time than Vick. This is the country we live in. Dog fight bettors get the scarlet letter while people killers stalk cities at their own leisure.
God bless America.
I’m almost ashamed to admit this, but I have really gotten into running. It’s gotten so bad that I lament the fact that I haven’t had enough time lately to run as long or as far as I want. It’s a great coup getting 4 miles in on a treadmill most days and nothing has made me happier recently than waking up early on Sunday mornings to hit the road for 5 or 6 miles before the heat and humidity takes over.
I have no desire to run more than 10K at any given time, but when I finish my long Sunday runs I feel so good that I wonder why I don’t try to run further. It’s been the weirdest thing I’ve gone through in years, especially since I always hated running and swore it off for good when I left my life as an active duty member of America’s esteemed fighting forces.
Even worse is that I’ve been reading a book called Chi Running that offers a blueprint to run effortlessly by focusing your mind, sensing your body and teaching yourself methods of relaxation during runs that allows gravity to pull you rather than using your muscles your push you. It’s all very new agey (being based on the 2,500 year old art of Tai Chi and all), peaceful and kind of out-there sounding, but it works. One of the supposed benefits of the ChiRunning technique is that it begins to permeate all aspects of your life, making you more focused, relaxed and better able to handle life with a whatever-will-be-will-be attitude.
Could this mean there is a kinder, gentler heart in me being buffed out from under who knows how many layers of blackness? No. Fuck no. I’m just as hateful as ever and no book and no number of miles running is going to change that. But at least I’m coming to be even more at peace with my hate. That’s got to be worth something.
