This Is What's Next

"A sad reminder of a time when two powerful nations challenged each other and then boldly raced into outer space. What will be the next thing that challenges us? Makes us go farther and work harder? Surely, we can do it again. As we did at a time when our eyes looked towards the heavens, and with outstretched hands, we touched the face of god."

"Because we came out of the cave, and we looked over the hill and we saw fire; and we crossed the ocean and we pioneered the west, and we took to the sky. The history of man is on a timeline of explorations and this is what's next."

I am so infatuated with that period in American history. And, yes, we did look into the heavens and we saw more than anyone else had ever seen before. Not to be blinded by the divine, we strove forth into the unknown and discovered riches beyond imagine. Alan Shepherd's virgin view of our dear Earth from outer space; how sad it is that we cannot share that undoubtedly magnificent sight. Of course, we can see it in pictures and videos, but we cannot truly share it for it is a gift held by only a handful of people. Even if I were to dream of what it might look like, the image becomes too ethereal, too far-fetched. Regardless, I am taken, seduced by the individuals, by the ideals, by the sheer determination that put a human being beyond the reaches of the endless horizon.

In a time of social upheaval, a charismatic man came forth and claimed that within the decade this country would have a man on the moon. In the face of incredible social changes, one man asked the people to make an incredible leap of faith; and they did. I imagine many were captivated as I was, but for different reasons. It may have been the fear of a Red moon, or the fact that we might be one step closer to that which we cannot see. The visionaries dreamt the dreams, the engineers built the machines, and the American spirit sent them into space.

We cannot know either what it felt like to be named one of the first astronauts or truly what the word astronaut meant to those select few. However, for the span of one decade, an astronaut was a symbol of America; an ambassador to the cosmos hailing from a land unlike any other the world had ever known. It is interesting to note that man, a terrestrial creature, had one of his most remarkable moments free of the forces that had always kept his feet securely planted. And yet another moment that neither you or I can ever experience.

There is an intrinsic beauty in what was achieved; a subtle grace when one mentions the words Mercury or Apollo; a flush of pride when one recalls the phrase "the Eagle has landed." There was something heroic in the names Neil Armstrong, Charles Conrad Jr. and James Lovell. Before these men's eyes, and at their feet, lay The Ocean of Storms and The Sea of Tranquility, titles that challenge the imagination to look beyond the barren landscape that they seem to describe.

For me, it may be almost impossible to fully comprehend what took place during this time period being born a full seventeen years and twenty-six days after man first set foot on the moon, but it will always remain a romantic notion in my head. The feats of such an era, boxed in on all sides by radical social change, remain unparalleled and far surpass anything we could have claimed to achieve since.

It was Colonel Mustard in the Kitchen! I Swear!

This entry is the result of a dream I had last night about being chased by "The Man", no doubt to deport me (or worse, lose my file), and a steady dose of Pink Floyd that made its way through my iPod all day. So it's safe to say I've gota fair bit of paranoia running in my veins and the time has come to put it to some use. Therefore, I'm going to play a little game of Clue with my ridiculously exciting life. Get excited. Now. Do it. Go ahead. I'm waiting. Hey you, in the back! If you're not going to participate, you can show yourself the way out. No no! I'm kidding! Don't X me out. Whew, thanks. My circulation is really low at this point, so I can't afford to lose any readers. Tell your friends!!

Here we go:

If I were the victim of the vicious plastic rope or the miniature lead pipe, who would take my life? If you're saying "Ooh Ooh me me!" right now...don't let me know. I'm laying down the rules here: this is going to be a proper investigation. Do you hear me? There's no room for showboating or heroics in this precinct.

Wadsworth, Butler - I think I've been more than nice to this man. He sleeps inside, you know. He gets paid well (in my opinion) and he has benefits (like lots of count sheets). I see no motive here. Do you?

Professor Plum, Professor - Jealous of my intelligence, he probably decided to take me out. And he has a degree, mostly likely a Ph.D. Anyone who willingly asks to be educated for that long has got a few screws loose already. Maybe I was a threat to his Nobel prize. Maybe I ate his sandwich...or his plums. And that was it man! He snapped! He went rotten! We've got a suspect. Let's get some DNA.

Miss Peacock, old lady - So I'm a hoodlum, eh? Am I too much of a rebel for you lady? With my flip flops and SUV, am I a threat? Did I touch the thermostat? But then again, you are old; you may be hesitent to handle bloodwork. However, I can't rule you out just because of that! Old people do crazy things like call local television stations with requests for investigative journalism. That's just too shady for my liking miss.

Miss White, WASP - Oh just because I'm white do you think I'm trying to steal something from you? GET OVER IT LADY! You wouldn't, would you? You would rather take me out (which is obviously not very nice).

Mister Green, tycoon or hoax? - Eh he's got the money, there's no motive. Other than the fact that I have more! You silly people, you were just going to overlook Mister Green, seduced by his stash. I, on the other hand, saw through the facade. And you call yourself a detective? Briscoe would be dissapointed.

Colonel Mustard, authority on condiments - A military man? I think not. Too much discipline there. Then again, he's probably good at taking out his target. Maybe I ate his sandwich too.

Miss Scarlet, lady in red - Oh it was so Miss Scarlet. You know why? Because I rejected her. That's right. I'm a taken man. I couldn't be swayed by her premiscous advances. I am a man of passions, but they have their place. I didn't think she would come back at me like this. I didn't get the lady a Manhattan and I go down because of it? Women are crazy.

Alright, case closed. Go home. I'm tired of typing.

An Ode to Transportation

Inspired by my good friend, I decided to write my own little blurb about travelling. However, I didn't spend my time reaching up into the big blue. Instead, I spent a good 7 or 8 hours on roughly 560 miles of lovely Texas tarmac.

As spring break approached, I was already scheming in my head about how I was to get back to that little town we all like to call Plano. The route was already set; there's really only one direct way to drive back. I focused my attention on the planned time of departure. Would it be early in the morning? "I promise, there won't be anyone else on the road...it'll be smooth sailing". Would it be in the afternoon? "If we leave at precisely the right moment in time, we can avoid rush hour!" Or should I wait until the evening? "Oooh I can get blinded by people using their high beams just for the hell of it". After plenty of deliberation I decided that it would be best to leave on Saturday morning. I figured I would fool everyone. Hah! How stupid are they to leave in the midst of spring break insanity. I would be the victor for I had planned in advance.

Saturday morning came, and as always, my plan had already begun to be thwarted. Father Time reared its ugly head (I can only assume its ugly because he's obviously not a Swatch or anything) and said "Who the hell do you think you are?" No road trip ever begins on time; ours wouldn't. Inevitably, we would arrive at our destination later than I had planned. Oh my plans, my dear plans!

At least all passengers were accounted for which is, you know, a plus. Then came my favorite part: baggage organization. I enjoy the small game of Tetris I play under the tailgate. It's a small bit of pleasure before the grueling hours of nothingness that's to follow. But that's really enough of that, let's move on...

Ahh the highway. Some of the time it can be a brisk cruise from A to B, but lately (along with chemistry), being on the road is becoming the bane of my existence. We, as drivers, play different games on the highway. Sadly they are much more exhausting and displeasurable ones compared to Tetris. There is, of course, the game of zig zag where you slalom in and out of traffic, every move blocked by some idiot who seems to be strategically placed by God to stop your progress. Then there's the game against common sense where the fast lane moves slower than the slow lane. How can we forget the drafting game where the guy behind you figures driving one inch away from your rear bumper is really the safe way to go? Oh and don't you love it when you're driving along and you come up to a driver on her cell phone (obviously no one could POSSIBLY be on the road except her) and you need to pass her on the left (or even the right) and you're blocked in by some asshole on the left (or even the right) going the exact same speed as you but somehow heeds not the desperate predicament that you're in and continues on with his rubbish speed ecause God forbid he pay attention to THE BLOODY ROAD!

Did you know they do construction on the roads on Saturdays? Did you know that? I didn't. Remember my plan? Remember that? Bastard construction workers took my plan and shat on it. No consideration whatsoever for the the gears that I had laid out a week in advance, none at all! Not only did i have to slow down to the snail pace of 35 miles per hour (ironically on I-35), the two lane highway closed down to one lane. I read the sign (because I can read) and it said "Right Lane closed." Mind you, I'm already pissed because with every passing second my time schedule is being ripped to shreds. I merged into the left lane with the comfort that after this rough patch, things would open up and traffic would flow like Niagara Falls. Oh but guess what! It didn't happen! The next sign read "Left Lane closed." Now what the hell is this about? I can't possibly come up with answer to these turn of events other than maybe they were laid out by divine forces with the sole purpose of laughing at my "misfortune". If that's true, when I'm done with this world and I happen to float by the party responsible for this, I will certainly make my opinions heard with an elaborate song and dance that will have Cloud 9 changing the way it handles my next life.

Yes, I survived the games. Yes, I made it back to Plano. Yes, I wanted to drive 75 on Legacy. Yes, driving in traffic in a city environment is doubly worse. Yes, I aid my games in the city with a flip of my middle finger and constant swearing. No, I'm not going to keep writing about that. Yes, I'm almost done. AND NO WE'RE NOT THERE YET!

It really does amaze me that some people have gotten driver's licences. There are fifty states in this damn "union" and you would think at least one of them would have figured out that incompetent peoples clearly outnumber the intellegentsia in our culture. Passing the driving test should be harder than making a right turn on red and trying not to run over any children. This way we can weed some people out and I, with my one and a half ton killing machine, don't have to play these games and I don't have to write about it.

Enrique Igleseas, Macaroni & Cheese, and a Rocking Chair

"A Tale of Laundry, Love, and Forgiveness"

Oh, Enrique. What has happened to your life? The days of Latin stardom and Anna Kournikova are over, are they not? Never good at soccer like your father, all you had was your semi-good looks and that crazy finger shaking thing. But it paid off! Instant fame and fortune came your way, women flocked to your feet, and people created websites and the counters reached the thousands. I'm sure there was a tattoo, too, tattooed somewhere on a male's body; that was the extent of your celebrity status.

But the Latin Big Bang is over, Ricky has fallen off the map, Gloria is making appearances on American Idol, J-Lo went hip hop, and Marc Anthony...well...we don't need to talk about him. Nobody on the Facebook lists you in their favorite music list. All your servants have left your mansion and, egads!, you don't know how to cook. Thus Kraft has now become your best friend; its macaroni and cheese just speaks to you in ways no one has in years. You need not make any more appearances on television, so there's no need to concentrate on your looks. Stop holding that belly in Enrique! Drink as many Dos Equis as you want! Embrace your mole!

The oozing of the macaroni represents the current state of your career: mostly stagnant. Since you're not rolling in Benjamins anymore, you had to sell most of your crazy contemporary furniture. So you went antiquing, but nobody knew it was you and you weren't even wearing a hat! You bought a rocking chair from a strip mall antique store. You're pretty sure you were ripped off by an old lady, but there's not much you can do now. Your five o'clock shadow is no longer sexy. The lady's granddaughter doesn't even know you exist; you can't even offer her an autograph. Oh feel sad, Enrique, feel sad.

One day, all alone on your birthday, eating mac and cheese in your favorite (and only) chair, there came a knock on your door. You opened it and, lo and behold, it was a cleaning lady. You had been so out of it, Enrique, that you didn't even notice the deplorable state of your mansion. The lady came as a present from an old friend: Jennifer Love Hewitt. Oh, but she was beautiful Enrique...you must have her. Oh but wait! You've been out of the game too long, you don't even remember how it's played. So you make advances, and they are rejected...you even get slapped around a few times. But she is too beautiful, YOU MUST HAVE HER!

So when she is doing your laundry (because let's face it, you never had to do this by yourself before, and the amount of clothes stacked up in the dirty pile is about to rival the height of a small hill) you come up behind her and you whisper something in Espanol in her ear. But she is French (how stereotypical, no?), and she doesn't understand. So you grab some paper out of your outdated printer and you draw crude illustrations of what you have in mind. She is moved, mostly because she finds you weird. You go and grab the platinum record from the wall, and it does the trick...she is swept off her feet (you ran into her when you were running back). She forgives you and agrees to go out on a date.

Where will you take her Enrique?

Article VI

The Ratification requires only the approval of the Supreme Leader and his or her Best Friend for the Establishment of this Constitution.

Done in Convention by the Unanimous Consent of the Supreme Leader, Ryan Giggs, and his Best Friend, Peter Castle Anderson, the Sixth day of March in the Year of whatever Chinese symbol this may be, Two Zero Zero Five.

Article V

The Congress, whenever they shall deem it necessary, shall propose Amendments to this Constitution. If the Supreme Leader approves, then that's that. There's really no need to go into painful detail here. Although I did see a llama once. Actually it may have been an alpaca. I'm not exactly sure how to tell them apart.

Article IV

Section 1.
The Congress shall have Power to dispose of and make all needful Rules and Regulations respecting the Territory or other Property belonging to the United States of Awesomeness, and no, you may not share.

Section 2.
The United States shall guarantee to every State, if they have been good, a Republican Form of Government, but shall NOT protect each of them against Invasion (they are oh so very much on their own).

Article III

Section 1.
The judicial Power shall be vested in one Supreme Court. The Judges shall hold their Offices during however long they are liked by the People. They shall, at states Times, receive for their Services, a Compensation in the form of bagels.

Section 2.
The judicial Power shall extend to all Cases, in Law and Equity, arising under this Constitution, the Laws of the United States, and really whatever else the Supreme Court shall deem pertanent.
The Court shall hear cases whenever they feel like it, because they're not that important anyway.

Section 3.
Treason against the United States of Awesomeness, shall consist of the things that the Supreme Leader considers treasonous that week (a list shall be posted).
The Congress shall have Power to declare the Punishment of Treason, and it shall be terribly bad.

Article II

Section 1.
The executive Power shall be vest in a Supreme Leader of Awesomeness. He shall hold his Office for as long as he Desires because, just like impeachment, term limits are silly. The matter of his Election has already been discussed, so no further thought need go into that.
In Case of the Removal of the Supreme Leader from Office, or of his Death, Resignation, or Inability to discharge the Powers and Duties of the said Office, the State is to devolve into chaos.
The Supreme Leader, at all Times, receive for his Services, a Compensation, which shall be in the very high amounts.
Before he enter on the Execution of his Office, he shall take the following Oath or Affirmation - "I do sorta-kinda-maybe swear that I will sorta-kinda-maybe execute the Office of the Supreme Leader of Awesomeness, and will the best of my Ability, preserve, protect and defend whatever I feel like preserving, protecting, and defending."

Section 2.
The Supreme Leader shall be Commander in Chief of the Army, and Navy, and all other group that has the ability to brandish a deadly weapon.
He shall have Power to make Treaties, to nominate and appoint Ambassadors and other useless public offices.

Section 3.
He shall from time to time give to the Congress and to the people of Awesomeness Information on of the State of the Union, and give them Measures he shall judge necessary and expedient, to which Congress and the people shall judge necessary and expedient and lay down all personal beliefs at the behest of the Supreme Leader; he shall receive Ambassadors (and other useless public office figures); he shall take Care that the Laws be faithfully executed, and shall Commisssion all the Officers of the United States of Awesomeness.

Article I

Section 1.
All legislative Powers herein granted shall be vested in a Congress of Awesomeness which shall consist of the Supreme Awesome Leader and his or her Best Friend.

Section 2.
The composition of Congress will be chosen every Year by the previous Supreme Awesome Leader.
No person shall be part of Congress who shall not have attained to the age of eighteen and the love and respect of the people of Awesomeness.
There will be no Power of Impeachment vested in either branch of Congress for it is silly.

Section 3.
The Times, Places, and Manner of declaring Supreme Leaders shall be prescribed by the State; but the Congress may at any time by law make or alter such Regulations.
The Congress shall assemble at least once in every Year, and such Meeting shall be on the day of most convenience, for there may be leisure to be had instead of boring political matters.

Section 4.
Each member of Congress may determine the Rules of its Proceedings, punish his or her Followers for disorderly Behaviour, and with the Concurrence of both parties, expel a Member.
Congress shall keep a journal of its Proceedings, and from time to time publish the same, execpting such Parts as may in their judgment require Secrecy. It is the job of government to make sure its subjects are poorly informed.

Section 5.
The Members of Congress shall receive a Compensation for their Services, to be ascertained by Law, and paid out of the Treasury of the United States of Awesomeness. They shall, in all cases, be privileged from Treason, Felony, Breach of the Peace, and Arrest.

Section 6.
All bills for raising Revenue shall originate in Congress, and no one shall judge.
Every Bill which shall have passed Congress shall be presented to the People as Law, and that is how it will be.
Any Objections to a Bill on the floor of Congress risks being ignored by the Supreme Awesome Leader.

Section 7.
The Congress shall have the Power To lay and collect Taxes (which it will do so incredibly liberally), Duties, Imposts, and Excises to pay the Debts and provide for the common Defence and general Welfare;
To regulate Commerce with foreign Nations;
To coin Money with famous peoples' faces, and regulate the Value thereof;
To establish Post Offices and post Roads even though no one really needs the Post Office;
To declare War as long as it is in the best interest of a select few;
To raise and support Armies;
To make all Laws which shall be necessary and proper for carrying to Excution the foregoing Powers, and all other Powers vested by this Constitution.

The Beginning

WE THE PEOPLE of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of Awesomeness.