Oneness at Lake Atitlan

Happenstance, by a Bland Acoustic Guitar Starter-Kit Music swing vote cast in cargo short Middleamerica, coffee shops are considered more avant-grade than bars even though non-chain coffee houses primarily serve minors and possibly those minors’ mothers on lunch break. And statutory rapists. And their mothers.
These beige arrangements are like bars (jr.) except with even more Protestants pretending not to recognize each other. Ba-da-chink.
Anyway, at one of the handful of rogue java locals not youth group-operated (with a pseudo-Eastern biblical pun name like Seekers, Higher Grounds, Our Daily Brew or – all in the Fort Wayne area – Holy Grounds), Michael Mettler, a tool with a shutter-release appendage and self-described/appointed Shaman, had the following “artist statement” posted next to a few unremarkable photographs of conquistador refuse:

The purpose of my trip to Lake Atitlan this May & June turned out to center on experiencing the feeling of being one with the unseen world, in my body. The primordial energy of the Goddess is uniquely available in this ancient caldera lake and its mountains and volcaoes. This was the opportunity to disconnect who I thought I was and open to feeling my relationship with the primordial vibration of the Goddess. The resonation in my cells in direct response to my asking for this larger, vaster self came and I understood abundance and infinite awareness. My photographs are my creative response to this direct physical change.

Mantises

Dog owners, regardless of person and companion viciousness, defend their dog’s fundamental ability to maim other dogs upon threat or petrify the shit out of burglars. Some subjugating augmentation of “my dad can beat up your dad” or the self-assurance that you’re pretty much the best driver you can think of.

The only reason people say “asinine” instead of “stupid” is so they can infer the referred is an ass or has asslike characteristics, I’m assuming.

Praying mantises are probably demons or semi-demons like necromancers or semi-demon pets like hobgoblins. They also lend nominal aid to groundbreaking programming like MANTIS, may give a disconcerting crunch, and do not wish to be associated with gay kung fu moves.

Fort Wayne has the dweebiest weatherpersons: Jay Walker, Curtis Smith, Michael Morrissey, Sandy Thompson, and Greg “emotional cripple” Shoup.

THE CHILD: I’m frightened.
THE WOMAN: And you should be, darling. Terribly frightened. That’s how one grows up into a decent, god fearing man.
-Sartre, The Flies

Football

Trying to explain astronomical distances and weights in more tangible measurements, people will often use football fields lengths or the fluid ounces a football stadium can hold, but I don’t find these equivocations helpful. Such as, “The distance to the moon is 238,856 miles – that’s more than 756,464,460,871 football fields laid end to end!” Is that really more accessible? Or “The world’s oceans hold 326,000,000,000,000,000,000 gallons of water – you could fill seventeen million football stadiums with that!” Hoo-ha.

Haven’t we all been there, Donol?

The 3-step-thirtysomething-white-man guide to vulnerable whores in the Tao of Steve is something you’ve already learned on the playground (except the only vulnerable whore in the vicinity was Ms. Roth who’d find acceptance of her sweat pants and lumpy figure in the pug-faced glare of lesbianism). You wave nonchalantly at Kendra Williams before smacking a nerd in the face with a dodgeball and, later that afternoon at second recess, tag her on a part you don’t have and run away.
More unfortunately, the movie continues the sitcom Hilton-video-for-dads trend of pairing a fat guy and suspiciously hot Manhattan-looking piece of ass. Ayelet Kaznelson is willing to leave her successful, loving husband for featured fat guy, Donol Logue, who works part time and shares a house with several friends. And, eh, he bangs or turns away a few other chicks throughout before settling on Greer Goodman (who leaves her underwear model boyfriend for Donol, even though Donol slept with her in college and forgot about it). Remembering all the names of the girls you’ve slept with – isn’t that the perpetual dilemma of the fat man?

Janice and Rudy

The following exchange took place, via email, between the Selective Service and myself during finals week this May.

Letter #1
Hello,

I just had a quick question: How do I un-register for the draft?

Hope to hear from you soon.

Dave Frank

Response #1
Dear Sir:

Virtually all young men who are U.S. citizens and immigrant male aliens living in the U.S. (both documented and undocumented) between the ages of 18 through 25 years must register with Selective Service, in accordance with Federal law (per the Military Selective Service Act). Even men with handicaps, missing a limb, blind, etc., are required to register.
Once you register, your Registration becomes an “official” document; you cannot just “unregister” on a whim. In order to “cancel” your Selective Service registration, you must submit proof that you are exempt from the registration requirement. Return the Registration Acknowledgment Card, with the appropriate documentation as proof that you ARE exempt, to the address listed on the card. This documentation will be reviewed, and if any additional information is needed, you will be notified. (Proof would be that you are a non-immigrant residing in the U.S. on a “valid” visa, are of female gender, or were incarcerated from on or before your 18th birthday through age 26.)
So before you consider dismissing the Federal law and registration with the Selective Service System,” it is suggested that you look into the role of Selective Service and consequences of violating the law.
You will discover that the System’s statutory mission protects the rights and beliefs of conscientious objectors, as well as providing manpower to the Armed Forces in a national emergency.
To NOT register with the Selective Service System is a felony! A young man who fails to register mail, if prosecuted and convicted, may face a fine of up to $250,000, a sentence of up to 5 years in prison, or both. The Selective Service does turn over the names of men who fail to register to the Department of Justice. It is then the responsibility of the Department of Justice to determine whether or not to prosecute.

Sincerely,

Janice L. Hughes
Public and Intergovernmental Affairs, Selective Service System

Letter #2
Dear Janice,

Thanks for the very thorough response. It was both informative and thought-provoking. However, I don’t think you answered my question, as the kids are saying, “straight up”. I am registered already, so all of the not registering information doesn’t apply to me. Let me put it another way, what would happen if I would, say, “renounce” my registration? If I accepted the consequences, could I actually do that?
Also, you said if I had proof I was a woman I could cancel my registration. Do sex-changes count? Do they have to be professional? I haven’t got one yet or anything, but if it’s a choice between my you-know-what and my life (or existence, I’m not sure what my stance is on the afterlife at this point in my spiritual journey), it’s at least a toss up.
Further, you said, “You will discover that the System’s statutory mission protects the rights and beliefs of conscientious objectors…” Hmmm. I guess you’d have to understand if I was a bit skeptical about that. You know, that whole ignoring a declaration of war thing that’s been going on since WWII.
Finally, I think it’d only be fair to let me unregister since nobody has been indicted for nonregistration since 1986. Oops, I’m not supposed to know that, am I? Let me know what you think.

Thanks!

Dave Frank

Response #2
Dear Sir:

I was just trying to inform you of the consequences of “not being registered”, in case you decided to try to “unregister.” Please note the information provided by our Agency’s General Counsel:To research this issue, go to our History/Records page on our Web site and click on the “Military Selective Service Act”. Please note the following: (1) There is no provision to authorize the Selective Service to cancel a valid registration; (2) Presidential Proclamation 4771 requires male citizens born on or after January 1, 1960, who have attained their 18th birthday to register. Thus, your registration was valid because you were born a male after 1960; (3) In the event of a resumption of the draft, males who have had a sex change can file a claim for an exemption from military service, if they receive an order to report for examination or induction; and (4) The penalty for failure to register is up to 5 years imprisonment and/or a $250,000 fine. A person will also be ineligible for various Federal benefits such as student financial aid, job training, and Federal employment.

Rudy Sanchez
Office of the General Counsel

Letter #3
Hi Rudy,

Thanks for the quick, informative, and concise response. Sorry it’s taken a while for me to get back to you, but I had finals and that gobbled up a lot of my time. I’m sure you understand being you work for the government and all and I know they hire only the best and brightest. Certainly only the most honest, if anything.

Okay, I can’t unregister, per se. I have another idea, however, that would basically have the same effect. I think. Here it is. How about you give me the documentation of my registration and then I’ll destroy it. That’s probably an assload of files, but I’m willing to do the legwork. You can even watch me, unless you get some weird sexual kick out of it. That might make me feel a bit uncomfortable. Yes, yes, yes. I know the penalties for not registering (or would it be re-registering?), but I’m willing to accept them. How about that? Well, think it over.

Thanks a bundle.

Dave Frank

We are the world, we are the binturongs

The bullshit on parade that was Live 8 was lauded like Christ doing the moonwalk for several reasons:
-We like rockstars championing gooey, substanceless politic.
-We dislike plague and famine in non-Western areas of the world because we can denounce them like high gas prices and, in the same way, will never be held to action by equally outraged Panera Bread customers.
-Americans still aren’t sick of UK douche bag cause-monger ambassadors Bono and Chris Martin.

Does anyone eat at the fast (fish)food chain Long John Silver’s anymore? They could certainly stand a pirate/adult film advertising campaign.

Listening to:
Common – Be
The Thermals – More Parts Per Million
The Comas – Conductor
Dresden Dolls – The Dresden Dolls

The binturong is my new favorite Indochinese civet.

Maritime Proficiency

My (longsuffering) girlfriend was recently seaside (down by the seashore) in South Carolina, and she was advised to, if stung by a jellyfish, piss on herself. The vinegar in urine apparently helps counteract the scyphozoan’s toxin. This may be well and good but what practical level of targeting proficiency can you really have outside of your bathing suit area? And at THAT point you’d be better off smothering yourself to death with the maritime vegetative extension-chord-wielding stepfather.

Half Empathy

Degas, I will hang your print in my room but I cannot pardon your choice of subject that infers I, the owner, am an old queen.

Struggling under the non-metaphysical weight of warehouse inventory, I’ve become one of the many professional and dabbling amateur movers who will affably spank the side of a given object once or twice after touchdown.
Slap, slap. Yeeahpp. Got ‘er done.

There’s a nasty rumor that the members of British Sea Power are near-midgets (stature, not locality). This wouldn’t necessarily ruin my appreciation for their music, just sever kindred romanticism such as Be gone, be gone, be gone your olden ways, be gone. Don’t be afraid of anyone, like seasons just move on because empathy is lost in halves.

Timecops

Summer is when I’d like most to shave the hair off my feet, but, dubiously, the season most likely to be caught with foot stubble. I had a girlfriend in 10th grade who shaved off her eyebrows and brown-penciled them back on, but, then again, I also applied aftershave once to a (my) shaved scrotum – I, frankly, didn’t want my high school friends to hear about either.

I feel like an oil tycoon when I’m drunk and have the cash to overtip.

Doing “the splits” is overrated and underheckled, unless we’re talking Jean Claude Van Damme in Timecop.

Holding Daisies

I’d rather listen to LaVerne Tipp explain creationism’s very own “vapor canopy” or the repercussions of homosexual adoption than vaguely positive neo-Verve Pipe angst spirituality like, “We were meant to live for so much more/ Have we lost ourselves?/ Somewhere we live inside.” What the fuck? Did Switchfoot have a semi-retarded 15-year-old on a comedown off ecstasy write that? No doubt there are concerns among the evangelical jumbotron youth whether they have gone “secular” or not. After all, they have a music video, distorted guitars and, apparently, genitals. Anyway, while watching fireworks on a raft at my girlfriend’s uncle’s lake house with my jeans rolled up Tom Sawyer (non-Rush) style, I thought of the Hum’s 1995 minor alternative hit “Stars” (you know, she thinks she missed the train to Mars, she’s out back counting stars) and how those sneaky godrock bitches lifted the music for their 2004 adult contemporary hit “Meant to Live” – busting mainstream like dick pals dc Talk. D-d-down with the dc Talk, d-d-down with the dc Talk.