May 21st, 2007


Victory Is Mine!!!

I know it isn't much, but it's a start; the Powers That Be within the Seattle Mariners organization have bowed to the pressure cooker that is Mr. Steven A. Taylor and they've gotten Mike Hargrove to BENCH Richie Sexson! For two games. At home. And not because he's 0 for his last 15 at bats and the fans started booing after every out and because he was stranding more men than a downed naval ship. Even though it's only two games and he'll most likely start one of the next few days - if not today - I feel vindicated that my vilification of this really nice guy who's trying his damnedest to get out of this funk and start helping the team (poor Flick) has netted its purpose. One of the stipulations was that he be benched. Well, he be benched.

Besides, if I don't take advantage of this opportunity, I'll be naming posts after Richie Sexson until the end of man.

My business cards have come in. Now I officially know that my mailing address can be somewhat trusted. I don't quite know what I'm going to DO with these things yet, but I think it's about damn time that Steven A. Taylor: Professional Douchebag finally got his own business cards.

I do have a plan as to where I'm going to start with my No-Budget Media Blitz for the website. I'm gonna print up a bunch of little fliers (kind of like those insert cards in magazines for new subscribers), I'm gonna wake up super early in the morning, and I'm gonna find some of those dispensers for the Village Voice and The Onion and I'm gonna slip my fliers inside as many issues as I can. Remember, that's just phase 1. More phases yet to come.

By the way, if you just search for the word sycophant, my website is result #112. Yeah! Page 12 on the Google Search for Sycophant! (I'm assuming the Google Search for Picnic will result in my website being a lot lower).

The beginning of the end is here. Last full week on the job. Smells like ass, but I'll still miss her.
  • Current Music
    Sunshine On My God Damned Shoulders John Denver

Bushmills? That's Protestant Whiskey! - Season 3 of The Wire

I woke up at 8:30am Sunday morning after going to bed a little after midnight. I didn't go to bed last night until 1:30am. Within those ... seventeen hours, I watched 12 episodes of The Wire. Anyone with any ambition to watch The Wire better stop reading here.

There is an absolutely fabulous idea that corresponds with season 3, one that could only be done by a show like this (in other words, it's too heady to try and fit into a 2-hour movie or to be placed into a lesser cop show, which is every other cop show ever made). It's a sociological experiment of sorts: taking all the drug dealers, all the drug addicts, and confining them to three specified locations within a major metropolitan city where - as long as they stay within those three specified locations - they won't be arrested by the police. Indeed, there will be police surrounding the outskirts, but only to prevent any violent outbursts or people trying to sell drugs outside the area.

There was one renegade major on the police force who concocted this idea, and it turned out to be the most effective solution in policing his area of the city. He took the dealers off of the more residential corners, thereby making it safe for ordinary citizens to roam about in their own neighborhoods. Felony crime was reduced by 14%; prisons weren't being crowded with senseless drug charges. And by the end of the run, social workers were out there exchanging clean needles for used ones, handing out condoms, even sending drug treatment officials out there to help addicts try to get clean. Of course, when the rest of the police force and all the politicians found out about this, there was no way to keep it going. As they put it, it was like he legalized drugs.

Well, yes and no. The cops were simply looking the other way, making drug arrests within those three perimeters a non-priority. But, look at it another way: before and after, all the cops were doing involved chasing drug dealers from one corner to the next and then back again. It's the hamster running on his wheel chasing after a bit of food on a string. No matter how fast you run, no matter how many arrests you make, there will always be drug dealers because there will always be drug addicts.

I don't know why they can't do this in real life. I mean, I KNOW why - most people are fucking dipshits - but I just can't comprehend why we can't change the law of the land. If the government controlled the creation and the sale of drugs and kept it to specified locations, then we might actually be able to work towards real solutions in this whole mess. Fewer tax dollars squandered on the prison system, more money put towards places where it can actually be used effectively.