"Neutrality is at times a graver sin than belligerence."

If I hear another unfounded or news-fed opinion about what is happening at any of the dozens of Occupy or Tea Party protests throughout our country, I'm going to punch my son in the face.  Think before you speak.  His future mental stability now rests in your hands. 

That goes for anyone who has created an assumption or bias about the agendas and ideas of those involved knowing full well that they, as well as any person they associate with, have never set foot in an encampment or march, or had dialogue with any of the thousands directly involved.  Because when you voice your inexperienced opinion, all you do is firmly plant yourself in the pavement as another speed bump.  My face will gladly entertain your insights once I see photos of you holding a dated sign by any of the "bongo playing hippies" or "right-wing elderly nuts".  This is not about entitlement or bigotry.  This is about dialogue.  And that is happening right now.  On both sides.  This is a good thing!  Both sides can agree that banks are playing a rigged hand, at a table they've erected, in a gambling hall they operate.  So be a part of something.  Whatever that is.  Because you shouldn't be worried about tea-partiers or occupy protesters, you should be worried about why you're ineffectual.  Don't be another fucking mouthpiece of censure and trite opposition for a nihilistic media that is only concerned with ensuring sponsors don't walk away with their operating budget.

A Facebook debate spawned this and it's irritating.  The point was brought up, as it has been in the media, that a big focus of the Occupy movement is on a lack of jobs and a hatred of corporations. 

"Get a job, you fucking hippy.". 

"Don't like it, don't shop at Wal-Marts or chain stores." 

"America has plenty of money.  People are just lazy now."

I've heard this all.  Heck I've echoed some of the same things in the past.  But now I find myself wondering where this came from?  Any large protest will attract a percentage of the fringe.  Sometimes a healthy portion.  But after watching, reading, and speaking with people involved, I know what some of the main points are.

For the lower and middle class, average household incomes have been on a steady decline. The upper class is continuing to see a rise.  The question being presented is not whether the middle class is dwindling, because we know it is.  It's whether or not people should be taxed more as they get wealthier.   A large, healthy middle class is what made this country the land of dreams.  If we all worked hard, at the end of the day, everyone got to sit and enjoy a slice.  Unfortunately, human greed has changed the emphasis to where it's now less about everyone having a slice and more about everyone clawing to get their own pie(s).

We could work to protect and preserve just the upper class and scorn anyone who doesn't make it there as unmotivated whiners.  There are plenty of great countries with an emphasis on a protected upper class and large struggling lower class.  Great places like Guatemala and Peru.

If we have so much, why is it that money for publicly funded projects continue to decline year by year? Why are schools beginning to fall apart? I'll be the first to shit on entitlement but some things can't be summed up as laziness.

More money is being funneled into the top tiers. That's what Wall Street does. Corporations go public, sell stocks, and decrease pay and benefits to increase profit margins for shareholders. They move call centers and manufacturing overseas to places like China where labor is cheap.  We all know this.  The problem grows when most shares are not owned by thousands of Joe and Jane Smiths, they're bought and gathered into portfolios by hedge funds, vested, and paid out to small groups of very wealthy individuals.

Not shopping at Wal-Mart is part of a solution but it certainly doesn't stop investment bankers from gambling away pensions and 401K's. It wouldn't have stopped Citigroup or Bear Stearns from bundling toxic mortgages and assets to sell, only to then turn around and hedge their bets by purchasing insurance, knowing full well those toxic layers would most likely fail and, because of the aforementioned insurance, be more profitable in the end if they did.  That's unethical and immoral.  These are facts. That's why AIG nearly went bankrupt. That's why the global market continues to teeter on collapse. And that's why people are pissed.

No one is being held accountable. And regardless of what any of you think about "lazy" people sitting in the park, we're arguing about it right now. So it's worked. It's created dialogue. It's a string on a finger.

I wish everyone could see that people are not trying to do harm.  The ends are noble.  Whether or not you agree with the means, as harmless as they may be, what those involved are trying to accomplish is for the betterment of society. 


And I don't care about my spelling or grammar.  Eat fuck.

"Egotism is the anesthetic that dulls the pain of stupidity."

As this day winds down I find myself reflecting back on how I have been affected by the events of September 11th, 2001.  How my everyday life has changed.  On how my world, and the way in which I navigate it, has been altered.  I went back and forth in my head contemplating these questions and I arrive at only one reasonable and rational response; it hasn't.

I have the fortunate pleasure of knowing no one that was in, outside of, or near the World Trade Center site the morning those buildings collapsed.  There are no relatives or members of my family that served or died in New York City that day.  I have no connection or ties to any of the parties responsible for carrying out those atrocities.  I have friends and relatives who serve(d) in the armed forces both in Iraq and Afghanistan but all are currently safe or have returned home alive.  I watched the events unfold, untouched and unharmed, from 400+ miles away.

Because of this I try to find some part of me that can be sentimental about the whole experience.  I do my best to show remorse because I truly do feel for the people directly affected by those events.  I don't need to remind myself to not forget because, really, how the fuck could I?  If you did, or are capable of forgetting, you must have been blackout drunk for four months to not remember the scenes that were replayed on a repetitive real for a third of a year. 

But as far as feeling a sense of loss or personal pain, I guess I'm incapable.  Has my life changed?  In all honesty, the motions of my day to day living have not.  I work in the same manner, perhaps even a bit harder.  Not because of some new found reverence for life and American patriotism, but because I'm ten years older and loaded down with the burdens of a dream.  Not to mention that I'm now the father of a six year old child who demands more of me than I sometimes am capable of giving.  I still work, pay taxes (sometimes), shop for the same foods, and demand the same rights and luxuries as before.  Perhaps even more. 

Really, any domestic changes have been slight given the full magnitude of the event.  I now have to take my shoes off at the airport.  I've lost six ounces of carry-on liquid.  I have to use a passport to visit our sketch comedy loving friends to the north. I pay more at the pump.

Aside from incremental inconveniences, for those like myself, life appears to be the same.  Have we as a country become more isolationist, closing off our boarders and reducing foreign imports, increasing domestic productions, in an effort to be more self-reliant and less dependant on a world we seem sure is hell-bent on destroying our rights?  No.  Not all.  Are we working to become a fitter, faster, and smarter nation in preparation for a rapidly approaching war with enemies that surely want to annihilate the very fabric of freedom we cherish so much?  No.  In fact, we're getting fatter and dumber.  Well surely we must be doing more to understand our enemies, and in turn make our interests and agendas better known to them through civil dialogue and exchange in an effort to keep our potential foes closer than our friends.  No.  We've just ratcheted up stereotypes and fear mongering in an effort to keep initiative moral up.

My point is, life has not changed for a great number of us.  I guess I'm tired of hearing that it has, because honestly, we could have used a little change in this country.  We could have used some isolation and introspection.  We could have used victory gardens.  We could have used scrap metal recycling initiatives and manufacturing bonds.  We could have used power conservation and alternative fuel programs.  We could have used diet and exercise regiments designed to prepare a populace for a potential conflict on our doorstep.  Unfortunately we didn't get that.  Why?  Cause we want it all.   And we insist on convenience in every aspect of our life, and sadly for soldiers and their families that includes our wars. 

If you want to ask someone how their life continues to be affected ten years after 9/11, get on a plane and leave this country.  It's the rest of the world that's still paying the price.

"Moving on is simple, it’s what you leave behind that makes it so difficult."

Every break up I've ever been through is hard.  Thinking back on them all, there's not one that doesn't elicit some sort of physical reaction in me.  Whether it was infidelity or lack of compatibility; when ended there was always a feeling of sadness and regret that still faintly resonates.  Doubt leaving me to question whether or not the right decision was made.  The easy part was saying the words because for one reason or another they all needed to be folded.  The hard part came when reconciling what I was leaving behind.  A part of me, even at 32, misses every women I've spent any considerable time with.  As improved as my life is having made the decisions I have, I still feel for all.

Bands are no different for me.  In my life, when trying to recall, I've been in at least 16 musical projects since the age of 15.  I say "at least" because I have a feeling there's a few I'm missing along the way.  I'm sure there's a rogue noise quartet that never made it out of the practice space lodged behind a synapse somewhere in my brain.  The latest and arguably most mature project (both in sound and attitude) I've been lucky enough to be a part of was 'The Fire Drills'.  A five piece jangly power-pop outfit designed to make simple, catchy Rock N' Roll.  When I joined the band I was intimidated by the lineup and newness of style, having most of my life played in aggressive hardcore and punk rock bands.  I resolved to be me and put my touch on it, and if it fit, it fit.  Surprisingly it worked out well and we wrote a handful of fun songs and played a small number of great shows.  We recorded for two days but never put any finishing touches on the tracks.  This went unreleased and it will unfortunately remain that way because today we all collectively decided to let the project go.  Put the fork in it.  Set the bitch on ice.  A decision that came about amicably and rationally.   With age increasing and time decreasing for every member we all felt it best to end on an even plane.  It is unquestionably the right thing to do.  There are no hard feelings and I'm sure I'll keep in touch with most, if not everyone involved.  But now that it's over, and with a slight weight off my shoulders, that aforementioned part of me is looking back with a hint of sadness. 

I'm not bothered that we won't be going forward.  Honestly, I could care less.  I'm too busy and too invested in other avenues of my life to worry about something so insignificant.  No, I'm sad when looking back at we're leaving behind.  I'm attached to the music.  Every sound is important to me.  It's sappy, I know, but I'm sentimental about music.  During my worst times it was the only outlet I had.  I then, and now, put myself into every word.  I enjoy writing.  I respect the process.  I envy those that do it best.  And fuck it - I don't care if I'm viewed as self-centered - I listen to my own music.  There I said it.  Boooom.  Yeah, you like that?  Huh?  I get a lot out of it.  I mean what are we doing if we're not fabricating what we'd like to see on this earth?

For the three of you reading, I ask you this: Do you know that feeling you get when you hear a song that you fucking love?  You've memorized every beat and pitch change.  Each note inspires some part of you.  It's perfect.  Now imagine, you created it.  You sat and mumbled and hummed it into existence.  You let the tone dictate the subject matter and put letters and words in an order that conveyed a sensation you had buried deep in your guts.  When finished and tested, a feeling of gratification falls over you.  You did it and, OH YEAH, the best is still yet to come.  You get to play it live.  To see if it resonates.  To see if people connect.  And some people get it.  And this is important.  This is why I fucking waste my time with it.  That moment. 

What I created with this group was not groundbreaking.  Heck, in forced moments of objectivity, I can see that some of it wasn't good at all.  It may have connected with only one of the seven billion people on this earth.  But that one person was the sixteen year old pock marked kid that lives inside of me.  The one that is still bruised by a dozen loveless breakups.  He's an asshole by the way.  He's a self-aggrandizing solace pig, still angry about a billion blown opportunities and squandered "shots".  But as he's matured, and at the core, the product is all that matters to him. 

I know, I know, bro, "feelings are gay."  I'll stop.  I'm ready for this to go.   I wish I could say it will be the last project but those words have come out of my mouth so frequently they're now near worthless.  What can I say?  I'm off.  I'm tilted.  But it's the truth.  I'll do this again even though I know it won't work.  I just enjoy it too much.

Thanks to all my friends that came to shows out of obligation or pure interest.  I appreciate it.  I feel confident saying the rest of the guys do as well.

In honor of my small contribution to The Fire Drills, below are the lyrics to my favorite song we wrote, "Teenage Hearts".  Alright, back to less serious musings.  Take care, dudes. 


TEENAGE HEARTS

Wake up, Wake up, hey, honey.
It's time go
We've only got ten years or so, lovely
Before we slow
So let's take the biggest risks, baby
And crease the sheets
Cause lord knows that when we get older
It won't burn so sweet

(Chorus)
Teenage Hearts
They beat so fast
But when you get past the point of innocence
They crack
Teenage hearts

We'll wither away with our money
And little sleep
So let's take this time now, shall we
And taste defeat
I'm giving you the whole summer
To bring relief
Cause when forty hits our souls heavy
You'll turn from me

You're "geeving" me the shits!!!

Hello, everyone!  Sorry for the long delay in blogging.  Not that any of you have lost sleep over it.  I've just been so busy at the gym toning up my potent potables.  I've missed you all, and honestly, I've kind of missed doing this.  Not enough to feel compelled before today to do anything about it but I've kind of missed it regardless.

Why am I writing today?  What moved me to the keyboard?  Watch the video above.  (Warning:  If you're a music aficionado, please relocate sharp or delicate objects, or any sentient beings smaller than you, to a radius three feet beyond your current reach.) 


Are you done?  Okay, well first off, I'm sorry.  I did it because I love you and because all of your self-obsessed revelry has allowed shit like this to see fruition.  I too watched the video and was immediately driven to hard, hard, HARD diarrhea.  You're saying to yourself, "Is this a joke?".   There isn't a comedic writer alive capable of creating such a masterpiece.

I can't even begin to express how bad I hate this.  Now, to each their own.  But when given your own, please for fuck's sake, don't create aural Ipecac.  The children are restless enough.  It's like taking two very bland and mediocre objects and mashing them together into a misguided mess.  Like preparing a Boca burger, then deciding to smother it in plain yogurt, and serving the messy concoction on a Richard Marx LP.

Upon listening to the intro I found myself thinking I was just walking through another ordinary suburban metal/hardcore video.  Which is near useless but I can tune it out.  Then, WHAMM-O,  it's as if I turned a corner and now I'm strolling through Kylie Minogue's uterus.  And we all know the beating that thing has taken.

Why does this music drive my colon to empty itself at first tones?  Because it's confusing.  When confused, I shit.  I can't help it.  You should have seen me in Geometry class.  Why are they wearing crosses?  Why are they so mad about partying hard?  How come the chick singing the chorus has no tits?  All the auto-tune parodies haven't clued any of these guys to the fact that giving minimally talented musicians vocoders is the recording equivalent of giving crutches to a quadriplegic?

I feel so sad for music to come.  Oh, damn, I've gotta shit again.

Greetings from the West Edmonton Mall!

Well I'm here.  I've been here for the past four days and I can say with all my heart that this mall is one of the most confusing things I've ever seen.  I can't quite figure out it's purporse or value to these people.  This is a building that covers over SIX MILLION SQUARE FEET!!!  A mall!  Six million square feet?!?!    This polyp on the local economy comes complete with a waterpark (with the world's largest indoor wave pool), an amusement park (with the world's largest indoor roller coaster), a car wash, an aquarium, a bungee jump pad, a firing range, an ice rink, a casino, eight hundred retail stores, and of course, a comedy club that yours truly is headlining for five nights.  And for those of you that know me, this could not be more of an awkward pairing.  I'm agoraphobic.  I'm not a fan of cologne.  I despise slow walkers.  And most of all, I'm not a big fan of things that seem belch natural resources.

I find myself wandering through it's halls before each show muttering in disbelief at the excess of it all.  How does a building like this operate efficiently during weather that rivals Winnipeg and Anchorage for shittiest in North America?  It's open year round.  The water and air heated to a tropical level during the eight months that Old Man Winter slams it's icy cock into the mouths of every Edmontonian.  Average, AVERAGE, winter temps reach 10degrees F.  With windchill, this city regularly spends days in the -10 to -20 range.  How can they afford to keep this running?

Oh yeah, they have a lot of money.  Oil money.  The best kind of money there is in a first world country.  A fact they continue to make abundantly clear, often referring to this place as North Texas.  What the fail to remember is that everyone fucking hates Texas.  Well, except people from Texas.  But, honestly, who the fuck cares what they think? 

"Don't you like it even a little bit, Ben?"  No.  I fucking don't.  "Why?  It's just a mall." No, The Pheasant Lane Mall in Nashua, New Hampshire is just a mall.  The Cherry Creek Mall in Colorado is just a mall.  This is a building that covers 48 city blocks.  This is a large town.  A large town encased in cement and glass, heated and cooled depending on time of year.  A large town with zero infrastructure.  A large town just designed for people who can afford to hang out there.  A large town that's only function is to funnel more money out of hard working private business owners pockets and into PetSmart's, Sears', Victoria's Secrets', Abercrombie's, and Earl's quarterly earning schedule. 

I wonder how much money is being sent towards the mall and away from Jasper or Whyte Ave., two areas that contain more privately held shops, bars, and eateries. 

"But Ben, those are outdoors.  During the winter the weather is too shitty to be outside."  Fine, don't live in Edmonton.  Look at the fucking map.  Of course it's fucking cold, it's the far North.  You see how on the map there's more dots with little names beside them the further south you go.  That's because normal people choose not to live on the tundra.  You want a giant wave pool, head 1500 miles to the west or 2000 miles to the east, there's a giant one waiting for you.  You wanna make a ton of money, turn this into an outpost and work for six months out of the year before returning south for the other six to sit in the warmth.

Musings on not drinking after one year...

It sucks.

How do we spell relief? D-E-A-D!

Good morning, everyone!  And to everyone who cares, Bin Laden is DEAD!!!!!  Let us rejoice that the man we were told was responsible for 9/11 has been killed!!!  To all the families who lost a loved one during the events of that tragic day, you can now sleep tight knowing that, while it took us nearly a full decade, America brought justice to the culpable individual.  Your mouths frothed and seethed with the need and taste for iron and blood, and our leaders have delivered as promised. 

For sustinance?  No.  Hope?  No.  Safety?  No.  Does it bring reason?  No.  For it will not fill you hearts or bellies.  This is just to satisfy the vengeful god-complex that lives within us all.  Congratulations, folks!  Nothing has been accomplished.

Gun owners should not rejoice and "pious" people should not celebrate.  This is just another example of a symptom being attacked.  Bin Laden didn't kill all those people.  At best, he drafted the blueprints.  Extremism killed all those people.  And rather then root out the cause; the virus of thought that infects and compels beautiful, family-loving people to do such things, we play a game of global whack-a-mole.  Why?  Because when you grab at the end of the string of reason, the scariest thought may come in finding that the rope is tethered to ourselves. 

Today, we've become a more difficult culture.  Because today, what we said is that we are less concerned with solving a problem, and more concerned with appearing righteous.  This is all for your entertainment, and trust me, I hope you're all entertained because this is not the end.