Nick Lewis: The Blog

I have this very strange -- apparently radical -- belief that the more money typical people have, the better the economy will function as whole. This has contrasted the United States' political leadership's view, which was "Give it all to Trevor McRichy -- he'll see it goes to good use, and he'll give you a great job later..." Frankly, that sounds more like a proposal from a con-artist, than sound government policy.

In solidarity with the Happy-Holiday-Patriots, I present to you these seasons greetings. Each was hand-crafted by me circa a year ago. I think they've aged quite well. Remember secular progressive brothers and sisters -- our glorious war against Christmas ain't over til... I guess its the 26th.

Seasons Greetings From God's Favorite President

I'm a little overwhelmed at the moment -- hints I haven't been updating my blog. Beyond the several ongoing telecommunications policy, and community networking projects which I'm actively developing, I've just been outsourced to help with the information challenges that have been posed by Katrina.

Katrina -- that bitch.

Last Monday, I actually flew over Katrina on my way to Boston. In an odd foreshadowing of how our goverment responded, the pilot choose not to tell us that the giant, larger than life thunderheads which surrounded us was the hurricane. Once I arrived at my VISTA orientation, I was kept busy for all waking hours of the day monday through friday. Long story short, I didn't really get a chance to read the news reports until yesterday. The crisis in New Orleans seems to shed a very unflattering light on what a barbaric, racist, and utterly uncaring of a society we live in. America as a whole, it would seem, can only be brought together by the drum beats of war.

A friend named Jessica brought this to my attention. She scans the local online personal ads every day hoping to stumble across this sort of gem. Now, making fun of people is not normally my thing, but jesus -- sometimes people are just asking for it. Now as though this picture wasn't priceless enough in itself, the boy who posted this personal (he calls himself "Icy"... god this is like a satire...) is also aspiring rapper. Below I've reposted his ballad from the street so that it can be preserved for eternity:

Anyone who owns a TV or radio has, at one time, been forced to endure the "budget" ad. While "budget" ads are almost exclusively limited to advertising local business, they nevertheless somehow manage to sound the same, no matter where you are in the United States. Whether you live in Grand Island, or Rhode Island, you most likely been recently alerted via the airwaves that a local car dealership is offering once-in-a-lifetime deals. This message is usually set to the music of that cheap, quasi-pornographic sythesizer warhorse that has been a staple of these ads since 1992.The announcer speaks with this HE-MAN-esque voice that is only used when advertising cars on the radio. The annoucner's voice is typically flooded with reverb effects at the points he wants most emphasized.

Well I can't exactly say this came as a shock to me:

You Are 21% American

You're as American as Key Lime Tofu Pie Otherwise known as un-American! You belong in Cairo or Paris... Get out fast - before you end up in Gitmo!

Bob Dylan signs exclusive deal with Starbucks.

Satan Laughs...

File this recent story from the NYTIMES under "WTF?":

As explained in a new paperback novel for teenagers from Simon & Schuster, rainbow parties are group oral sex parties in which each girl wears a different shade of lipstick, and each guy tries to emerge sporting every one of the various colors.

Mr. Nerney, who gives presentations on adolescent risk-taking nationwide, said he first heard about rainbow parties about three years ago in Westchester County. He believes these parties do take place and usually involve middle school girls and older boys.

Mr. Nerney also totally lost his virginity last summer to this really hot chick who lives out of state. I know he's telling the truth, because he has a picture of her!

"In my paintings I see the world as a cosmic stage for human activity. I'm in the audience like a court reporter taking notes with my sketchbook and brushes, playing the critic, here to observe and make comment." - Mark Bryan

Link:The Art of Mark Bryan

Here's a story that's hard not to read:

Thirty-five years ago, on June 12, 1970, Pittsburgh Pirate and future Texas Rangers pitcher Dock Ellis found himself in the Los Angeles home of a childhood friend named Al Rambo. Two days earlier, he'd flown with the Pirates to San Diego for a four-game series with the Padres. He immediately rented a car and drove to L.A. to see Rambo and his girlfriend Mitzi. The next 12 hours were a fog of conversation, screwdrivers, marijuana, and, for Ellis, amphetamines. He went to sleep in the early morning, woke up sometime after noon and immediately took a dose of Purple Haze acid. Ellis would frequently drop acid on off days and weekends; he had a room in his basement christened "The Dungeon," in which he'd lock himself and listen to Jimi Hendrix or Iron Butterfly "for days." A bit later, how long exactly he can't recall, he came across Mitzi flipping through a newspaper. She scanned for a moment, then noticed something. "Dock," she said. "You're supposed to pitch today." Ellis focused his mind. No. Friday. He wasn't pitching until Friday. He was sure. "Baby," she replied. "It is Friday. You slept through Thursday." Ellis remained calm. The game would start late. Ample time for the acid to wear off. Then it struck him: doubleheader. The Pirates had a doubleheader. And he was pitching the first game. He had four hours to get to San Diego, warm up and pitch. If something didn't happen in the interim, Dock Philip Ellis, age 25, was about to enter a 50,000-seat stadium and throw a very small ball, very hard, for a very long time, without the benefit of being able to, you know, feel the thing. Which, it turns out, was one of the least crazy things that happened to him on that particular day.