Modern Day Drifter

So here's my environmental good deed of the day–stop exfoliating!  Or if you insist on continuing to effortlessly scrub your skin, use one of the exfoliants mentioned at the end of the article.  And tell your friends.  I've never liked Olay anyway.  And I wouldn't mind shorting their stock to make a quick buck or two either.

Good God.  For those of you who, unlike me, don't follow the daily fluctuations of the dollar-yen exchange rate, the dollar price of this watermelon is about $6400.  That's not a typo–that's really six thousand four hundred dollars.  For a watermelon.

Incidentally, just after typing the period for that last sentence, one of these came by and I had to run outside just to get a glimpse of it and take in the full decibel onslaught.   So where was I?  Oh yes:

For a fucking watermelon!  Notice that the price of a 'regular' one will be between $200 and $300 in grocery stores.  No level of sweetness is worth that price.  And people think that Americans have too much disposable income.

1. What happens when the amount of rainforest saved by the Facebook Greenpatch application exceeds the total amount of land on Earth?  As far as I can tell, the rainforest saved is merely a function of the number of plants sent via the application, so if that value ever exceeds the surface area of Earth, will someone call the developer's bluff?

2. In science, a revolution is one complete circuit.  In other words, you must finish at the exact point where you started.  So what then is a political revolution?  Is the revolution not finished until it itself needs to be revolted against?  And did the person who labeled political movements 'revolutions' recognize their futility and thus give them these monikers? 

For this year's edition of totally pointless elections (excluding the most colossally worthless of them all in November, of course), head over to Foreign Policy and cast your vote for the top 5 Public Intellectuals, or, as I like to call them, the individuals to whom people who want to appear smarter than they actually are because they cannot critically think for themselves incessantly refer.

Hitch, while discussing whether we should worry about John McCain's temper, absolutely eviscerates former US Senator Bob Smith:

...I can assure you that premature detonations of any kind would certainly not be his problem. He combines the body of an ox with the brains of a gnat. Indeed, if his brains were made of gunpowder and were to accidentally explode, the resulting bang would not even be enough to disarrange his hair. He moved from being the most right-wing Republican senator from New Hampshire, switching to the U.S. Taxpayers Party after a distinct absence of what we call "traction" in his presidential run of 2000, tried to rejoin the GOP when he saw a nice, fat chairmanship become vacant on the death of Sen. John Chafee, failed at that, lost the nomination in his own state, moved to Florida, endorsed John Kerry in 2004, endorsed Duncan Hunter for the Republican nomination in December last year, and was last spotted on the Web page of the Constitution Party: a Web page that's tons of fun to check out. And this cretinous dolt, who managed to do all the above without bringing out so much as a sweat on his massive and bovine frame, is the chief character witness against the impetuous McCain. Nice work. 

And that's just one of the highlights of the piece.  Read the whole thing and check out what he has to say about former President Clinton and, of course, the Republican Presidential Nominee himself. 

If you are a very powerful political figure and a potential nominee from your party for a future presidential election, you face more scrutiny in both your public and private affairs than the average citizen.  This can be especially burdensome if you intend to engage in any form of extra-marital sexual liason.  Therefore, the OG and I would like to offer a special edition of our guidelines for adulterers.  Because this one is meant for powerful political figures who need to work extra hard to hide their indiscretions, we shall dub it "The Spitzer Addendum".  We do this because we feel that it is especially important for politicians to be able to engage in sexual indiscretions without having to face the wrath of public opinion.  Because really, who wants them to be sexually frustrated when they are debating the merits of invading other countries?

Number One: Don't take pictures.

Number Two (Spitzer Addendum): Always pay in cash.  If you will be paying for high-end luxury services and will need a lot of cash, arrange for the fee to be distributed in small amounts and to multiple sources.  This avoids the problems associated with hiding large cash transactions from the IRS.

Number Three: If you get caught by the wife, at least have some clothes on under the covers while you're playing cards with the babysitter who's sitting on the bed wearing a g-string.

Number Four (Spitzer Addendum): Conduct all communication about the liason with a public phone.  It's very difficult for criminal investigators to wiretap public phones.  Even if they do, it's impossible to prove beyond a reasonable doubt, in both the courts of law and public opinion, that you were the person using that particular phone which, by definition, is available to anyone.

Number Five (Spitzer Addendum): If you intend to use a paid service, and especially if you intend to do so frequently, do not be a memorable client.  You only raise the possibility that you will be remembered by the service staff.  These memories can, in the worst-case-scenario, become testimonies.  However, if you are just a regular customer and only require the most basic services and positions, you dramatically reduce your risk of being fingered.

We hope that these rules are helpful for all out there who wish to explore their sexual veractiy outside of the confines of marriage.  You can expect further updates as other sex scandals come to light.  We are committed to providing the highest level of service for our public figures and look forward to the day when updates to these quidelines are no longer necessary due to the inability of journalists to uncover extra-marital sexual liasons.  Thank you and go fornicate with confidence. 

Now that I've been shamed into posting again by Whitney's new blog, I'll direct everyone's attention to the formal start of my acting career.  I'm positive that I won't receive a credit for my role in this independent movie, but please don't let that keep you from starting my IMDB entry.  And in case you were curious, our (Whitney and I) appearance in this movie wasn't accidental; we were actually recruited to be in it and play tourist extras!  You can check out photos of the set, cast, and crew on the Korea album under the Travels tab.  In the meantime, enjoy.  And hopefully I'll be able to get you guys another speaking part sometime soon.

It's fitting that, on the one year anniversary of my coming to Japan, the date on which I leave Japan is decided.  No, I shouldn't say the date because that implies a fixed point in time.  Rather, the approximate time of my departure is decided-early September.  Mark your calenders accordingly.

In an otherwise uninteresting ESPN article about the reaction among Atlantans to Michael Vick's intention to plead guilty to dogfighting charges way back in August (I'm slow; I know), the non-casual reader can find the following statement, posted on a discussion board on the Atlanta Journal Constitution's website: 'This is about race no matter how we put it. White folks can shoot ducks all day, but when you fight pit bull against pit bull it is a crime.'

Is it fair that hunting, a sport that the commenter correctly argues is largely enjoyed by whites, remains legal in this country while dogfighting, a sport that is probably largely supported by blacks (I want data before I will contribute any certainty to the second part, however; I suspect that more whites have gone to jail for dogfighting than blacks), has become a federal crime punishable by up to five years in prison?  I don't know.  But every judge, lawyer, and prosecutor–and indeed every citizen who finds meaning in the words 'under the rule of law'–must negotiate compromises between what they think the law should be and what the law actually is.  

But the assertion that Vick's prosecution is ultimately about race qualifies as the textbook definition of a red herring.  In no way does this criticism of the legal system, regardless of its merits, change the fact that dogfighting is illegal, not because of discrimination against blacks, but because an overwhelming majority of the American populace considers this particular blood sport to be barbaric and inhumane and have therefore pushed for its criminalization.

And so the law is of course subject to political pressures.  Anyone who argues that the law is, and should remain, above politics has the cart before the horse.  The law is and must be a political process since our politicians are explicitly charged with crafting a fair number of the laws of this country.  Crafting the law will always be a political process. 

So is Michael Vick a victim?  Of course he is.  He is a victim of every other pressure that is placed upon celebrities in this country, regardless of whether or not they want them.  He is a victim of a culture that finds illicit activities to often be highly lucrative and tempting.  Of course, such an assertion is ludicrous, given that the amount of money he gained through dogfighting would have been dwarfed by his former salary and endorsement deals.  But ultimately, Vick is a victim of a human psyche that cannot let go of the past, that cannot say no to those with whom it has a history, and that ultimately finds it very difficult to sever social ties, even when they lead us back down paths we know we should not travel.

However, that of course does not exonerate him.  Not if we, as a society, want to live 'under the rule of law' at least.  I have every reason to believe that Vick knew what he was doing was illegal, in much the same way that I know I am breaking the law every time I drive too fast.

Having said all of that, however, I'd still like to see my favorite NFL team take a chance on Vick when he is finally released from prison.  Everyone deserves a second chance.  And man is he exciting to watch.

After finally getting caught up on Grey's Anatomy over the weekend (thank you Azureus and Isohunt!), there is really only one question worth asking: where do they keep the condoms in the on-call room?  Those beds get more action than some of the seedier love hotels here in Japan.  And while it's possible that the female residents, interns, attendings, nurses and patients (geez Alex, you're really getting around these days) are all on the pill, with the amount of partner-swapping taking place, there is no way that this group of medical professionals is having unprotected sex this frequently.  So they must be using condoms.  But since I can't imagine doctors carrying them around in their scrubs (Julie, do scrubs even have pockets?), they must stash them in the on-call room.  But where?  And how do they all know where to go when it's time to do the deed?  That must be an awkward conversation–'Hey Lexie, it's your turn to buy the rubbers this month you intern scum.  But I still want to do you.'  They must collude on which brand to purchase and where to put them; that's the only explanation I can come up with.  So maybe it's a good thing that the TV writers are on strike now.  They can use the time to figure out exactly how to use the upcoming episodes as public service announcements for the importance of practicing safe sex.  It would only take one shot of each cast member, maybe one per episode, reaching for the secret stash and pulling out a Trojan.  Trojan could even sponsor the show and provide some extra revenue to help meet the writers' demands.  No one loses.  Except for McDreamy.  But he should be used to that by now.