randomness 3

You know, I haven’t written any random thoughts in a few days. I’ve actually been pretty busy, and I’m really glad. Honestly, that bullshit of the idle hands, or in my case brain, are the devil’s playground does make sense. Though who am I kidding, I will always be one lazy mother fucker, but I’m trying, you might say it’s my process. At least I’m actually writing something, not just doing bullshit crap and just thinking up stuff and never really committing to do the work. 

So I just finished a story, I still have about 70 grammar exercises to correct and over 30 vocabulary homeworks. But I am glad that I finally got a group of students who aren’t just pretty good at English, the actually make me work freaking hard! Man, it is awesome to feel that you’re in a way, an important part of people’s lives, shit even if you just teach them one thing, fuck it’s almost like you’re passing something on, that they will in turn spread to the world. I’m enjoying the shit out of it. And it pays ok, and it gives me time to write. 

Changing subjects, gossip is fun; even if it can be shit if it’s you people are talking about. I’m probably lucky to be pretty anonymous, so nobody and I would bet a lot of money on this, probably talks shit about me. And that sucks sometimes, it almost feels like to few people care. Maybe, I guess I’m just being a whiner. But I don’t know, they say any publicity is good publicity, and let’s not forget, people are very fucking morbid. They love messed up shit ad problems, and people just getting their lives screwed up. 

But do I know any actual real and interesting, this last one is very important since gossip is only spread if interesting, do I know any? Well I guess I don’t, but I do have a few ideas for stories. Like the story of a man who, because of his work and position of power, has to be accompanied by very specialized security that also take care of his family. Imagine a torrid romance between the wife and a security guy, who also happens to be very close to the husband. Maybe he could also be his lover, now how’s that for a twist, huh? What if she becomes pregnant by this man? Now what the hell would happen to this guy? Would the cuckold have to exact revenge, of course due to his position, even if it means taking out a lover? 

Or how about a story telling the tale of a man with deep rooted hatred, who manages to con the world, well that’s any classical story, a tale as old as time. Not beauty and the beast, though his hatred could rival the latter. But sometimes that’s just life. I love the idea that fiction can never achieve the randomness of real life. That’s why I love fiction, it is eminently controllable, and I can always just start over and make things go the way I want them to. I also believe that’s the reason many choose to write, because while reading is a form of escapism, man writing, that’s the ultimate form of escaping. Sometimes I can go for hours not actually writing, but navigating the corridors of a story, going back and forth. Like a maze, but I got something better than twine, I can just move the walls. 

Christmas tree

It’s a very sad story you know, they seemed like the perfect family. The father and mother had been married for over 40 years. They had tried for years to have kids, for 20 years they tried; it was heartbreaking for them for a while. Eventually they had two kids, a boy and a girl, beautiful pair, very smart the girl, she’s a philosophy major, lives two states over now; and the son, well he was a scholarship athlete, an amazing catcher, city champ about 4 years ago and MVP to boot.

It all started small, these things always do, and I think it was a discussion about the father’s job situation. It was probably something about ambition or lack of it, maybe the wife was tired of just, you know, having to stretch pennies like we all do sometimes. It’s just the same old story, hell son, that’s middle class living right there. But it was still a very quiet thing, we lived next door to them for around 15 years, never heard anything like a serious fight from their home.  

I think I heard the mother and son had stayed up finishing the decorations, they had the tradition of getting all together when the kids got home from school and decorate the whole house. We used to drop by for a small neighborhood gathering the hosted for almost 10 years, usually around the 10^th or 11^th. They had an amazing Christmas tree; it was about 7 feet tall with very long branches and thick foliage. The wife, did I tell you her name? Well it was Pamela; she told me the used around a 1000 individual tiny blinking light bulbs. The branches were nestling very large orange crystal balls, almost the size of tennis balls, with long shreds of a see-through cloth draping down and around. Oh, it was also orange, and yes, Pamela usually had a theme for each room of the house. I’m not so sure what they were, but I do remember she used orange decorations in the room where the tree was, the living room if I’m not mistaken; the kitchen was always green, with the same big crystal balls only, you know, in green; and the dining room was red. It always bugged me, the implications of putting red in such a room.

But I’m going off tale, I really loved that house, almost bought but old Lantz beat me to it, the wooden finishes were exceptional. Yeah, just had to settle for this old thing. But yeah, I was also scared by the shots that rang at about 2 a.m. My wife screamed and I almost bashed my head against the back board of our four post bed. She grabbed her cell phone and called the police, of course we weren’t the first to call though. They arrived about 20 minutes later, pretty fast if you ask me. 

I ran down the stairs and practically leapt through my door and down the porch, only to see them taking the young son in handcuffs, past the snowman and the electric Santa Claus with 3 reindeer. And on their beautiful mahogany porch, hysterical young girl was screaming and crying. It was a sad sight, she was sitting there, and one of the officers was trying to console her, right there by the 4 piece band of Santa, Rudolph, Snowman, and an Elf. 

Yeah, this is just your typical neighborhood you know? If you ever want to hear a very strange story, ask me about the Johnson family over on Oak drive, now that was a real mess. That’s what you could call the bad part of the neighborhood, it was a real shame what Ted Johnson did, people still talk about it, you know?

Metro Daily News

December 2^nd

Last Thursday, the 30th at 2:05 a.m. John Joseph Lantz, 62 years old, an accountant for a local bank, shot and killed his wife of 41 years, Pamela. Early reports indicate the couple had a heated argument earlier in the evening, but had apparently settled it. In his statement to the police, the daughter, Elizabeth, claims her father remained calm even as her mother accosted him about financial and work matters. She added he left the room and went to bed at around 11 p.m. while she and her brother helped their mother. Her statement also adds she was awakened by the shots and her brothers’ screams to lock herself in the bathroom. When she came out, after the police arrived, she saw the same grizzly scene that welcomed the officers. In the master bedroom, the officers found the body of Pamela Lantz, shot two times to the chest from medium range, and laying in a pool of her own blood by the bathroom door. 

The police also released the following statement from the son, John Erick: 

John Erick Lantz was woken up by the ringing of 2 shots. He rose quickly and ran out of his room to see his father standing in the doorway of his own room, with a gun in his hand. Ducking into his room, he avoided a shoot and locked the door behind him. Screaming to his sister to lock herself up, he grabbed a baseball and a bat from his closet, and retreated to the bathroom. Screaming at the enraged assailant, he managed to lead him to where he was. The man broke the first door and shoot twice through the bathroom door trying to take out the young man. The son had dropped down and had his back against the wall, avoiding the shoots. As he kicked his way into the bathroom, the son dropped the ball into his feet making him fall. Then he proceeded to savagely beat him. He continued to beat him, until stopped by the officers who arrived to the scene. 

randomness 2

Some nights I just lay down on my bed, looking at the roof. I hug the pillow besides me, even though I know it’s not really you. Of course, who truly is that you? There’s a physical you, there always is, like that last girl you had fun fooling around with, or just had sex some time ago. There’s that you how will help me when I’m sick, and will badger me into taking care of myself when I’m out of shape. Then there’s also a you that pushes me to work, for me, for what I want to do in my life. But I’m on my own, I go to bed, it’s usually freezing. And when I wake up it still is.

 

Ok I had to go there, not a good idea but I was thinking about something else, and it got me kind of down. I’m really messed up, I guess you know this if you’ve read anything else here or know me. And so long tangent aside, I recently read an article “The War on Men” written by Suzanne Venker. It’s kind of particular in itself because I don’t really read about feminist stuff and it a FOX thing so it’s not really my thing. But one thing did seem pretty interesting:

 “ …But what if the dearth of good men, and ongoing battle of the sexes, is – hold on to your seats – women’s fault? ... After decades of browbeating the American male, men are tired. Tired of being told there’s something fundamentally wrong with them. Tired of being told that if women aren’t happy, it’s men’s fault.

    Contrary to what feminists like Hanna Rosin, author of The End of Men, say, the so-called rise of women has not threatened men. It has pissed them off. It has also undermined their ability to become self-sufficient in the hopes of someday supporting a family. Men want to love women, not compete with them. They want to provide for and protect their families – it’s in their DNA. But modern women won’t let them…”. 

And while as a man, I can find it comforting, I kind of think its bullshit. I can’t understand why gender battles are waged as if this was a zero sum game or something like that. Women have had important accomplishments and huge gains, but most men will think it’s just as simple as women taking shit from them. But going back to the article, there’s some assumption I don’t agree with. She says it’s encoded in us that men have a role. But what about women? It’s completely ok to say that women have fought and evolved out of that square space their genes pegged them in. But it’s crap to say that men haven’t changed, we have, just not really in a good way. 

Men shouldn’t define themselves because of their capability to care for a family, just as women shouldn’t be defined by their capabilities as wives for example. Gender battles can’t be reduced to “it’s your turn to take care of the kids and cook dinner forever”.  Because the economic reality is that a single income home is not really feasible. But more to the point, why don’t women really accept a complete change of the paradigm. Fuck it; I don’t think it’s wrong that a man could want to be a Mr. Mom. 

Let me try again, while it can be real easy to say, yes men are pissed at having to fight with women, it’s not true. I say that as a man, I could accept that if I ever marry my wife will probably earn more money than me. That’s not to belittle myself, but as an amateur writer, I’ll probably be lucky to make a living with it. I’ll most likely be a teacher or something, and just write to please myself. Yeah, I was raised that I would marry and provide for a family, but shit, sometimes it’s just not in the cards. As a man I what to think I could choose to love a woman because she loved me too. And it should be that we would both agree what do we want out of being together and how. If I have to take care of the kids, I will, and if she needs support because they make her feel like crap for putting her kids second, I’ll tell her she hasn’t, we just juggle things our own way.

Shit I have no idea where I’m going. I do know men aren’t equipped to deal with stuff. Women want change, and it will happen; fighting men be dammed. And yet maybe in a couple of generations things will make sense. But they don’t for me. Sometimes nothing does.

cops and liberals

It was a hot day in the city, I hadn’t been out of the house in a while and it all seemed so alive and far. Carlos was waiting outside of his office; he had settled his law practice in a small neighborhood, a world away from the court scene, it felt real every time I dropped by. His office had stacks of books all over, full of law books, self-help crap of which he had always had a particular fondness for, and history books that he read constantly. He always got caught up in in things, I remember when we were 15, he took some courses from the Dale Carnegie Foundation, I guess it’s still called that? And he would go on and on for hours, about how it was life changing. Only to get hooked on the works of a local economist whose doomsday prediction would surely be considered ominous today, but were comedy fodder back then. 

So we were driving around looking for a parking space, it was the lunch rush hour, and the small two lane streets of the city only allowed parking on one side of the street. My car itself is an old Chevrolet, silver sedan, comfortable for long drives to the beach, and not very good for any trips to the Sierra as I had to learn on my own. The leather seats showed some wear around the corners, but I took care of them and they still looked young.  

Carlos was always a little flighty, but I would always fondly remember our conversations about politics and books. His work kept him pretty much free, but I didn’t have a chance to hang out and just talk like when we were all in college. We wanted something healthy, so I picked a barbecue place. It was also cheap, that was also a pretty big consideration. They served this delicious salsa, a mix of herbs and cheese, with a little olive oil. The best part was really the meats, I once dated this girl, and she was a vegan; really dragged me into that hell. So when we broke up I spent 2 whole weeks eating pecho de paloma, a particularly delicious slab of beef, thin, but with a thick strip of juicy fat. 

We’d gone around the block twice now, so by the third try I took the longer way around. Back that way the streets opened up, with splitting lanes separated by “parterres” covered in green grass and tall palm trees. Those were taller than light posts; it had been a minor scandal when they were imported for a hefty over price, instead of say, Salinas’s palm trees only a few hours’ drive away. There a small “batida” was taking place; a few cops were checking out the cars, I guess looking for guns and such. They waved us and I drove towards the right lane between the cones. Carlos started to sweat, and his hands balled up into fists. 

License and registration please, the cop said in a very cordial voice. Good afternoon officer, here you go, was my answer. All the while Carlos kept quiet, then the cop asked; could you please open the trunk sir? As I was about to oblige, the cop walked to the back of the car, and Carlos grabbed my arm and said: don’t let him open it alone, you do it. It was a strange request, well not really for him, so I did it.

I turned off the car, opened the door and walked after the officer. I found it odd that Carlos would freak out. I had heard stories about people who had been stopped by cops and bad stuff had happened. There was a pretty known story about a politician who had been stopped by cops, he was a big part of the opposition to the government at the time. The man ended up in jail on drug possession charges. He lives in Panama now. And there was the story of two teenage brothers who disappeared after a supposedly routine stop. Maybe he was afraid of all that, but I didn’t have those kinds of enemies. 

 But him? He was always a loose cannon, and had been a very vocal opponent of the city’s bar association. He eventually managed to get the association’s president removed. That’s when he moved his office. For a few months he was always looking behind his back and refused to visit old places we used to hang out at. Now he was making me nervous. I dropped my keys and stopped to pick them up. The cops did not seem impatient and I think one of them mumbled something but I didn’t understand him. Then I started to look at his fellow officers, and their eyes were all fixed on me. And I finally got to the back of the car. I put my key in the lock and turned the key. 

I opened the trunk and after checking my toolbox and my briefcase, the officer just waved me off, without even a goodbye.

#chaosu

“… This morning, the president will be visiting the local Catholic University, where he’s expected to announce…”

“…this president. The man refuses to hear the people’s voice, people want change and he will not step aside to allow new blood...”

“… Three shots to the chest. Early reports are sketchy at best, no official word has been issued…”

“@chuckthedude: …fuk, they killed em, army taking over, closing exits HELP! #deadprez #chaosu”

“… people waking up to the news, our nation has lost its leader, elected to office five years ago…”

“…57 year old economist. His rapid rise to power, from an unknown minister quickly relegated by former president…”

“…young man status update said, quote: …people are running crazy, the president IS DEAD, theyre closing the gates, guys w rifles herding us… ”

"...makes your whites whiter, no hassle!!. We interrupt these commercials for a special announcement..." 

“…has been issued, I repeat, a media blackout has been ordered by the government. In 5 minutes, al local channels will connect to the state run channels…”

“… from the presidential residence. The president’s personal physician issued the following statement: the patient remains in stable condition… to the chest and superficial damage to the cranium… on the road to full recovery…”

“…@dailyextra: the president has been shot. Confirmation is pending, but he has been DECLARED DEAD by medical personnel onsite #chaosu, #presidentdead… ”

"... Parzel likes this page. Swift detergent, with automatic color separator and..."

“… INTERNET CONNECTION NOT AVAILABLE…”

“…is stable. Previous reports by local networks have been incorrect as the president’s secretary has issued an official communication assuring the president is in stable condition contrary to earlier reports. We repeat…”

“…@jhnybee: plz help us!! Guardz tking al phones and hldng ppl in adtorim #chaosu…”

“… INTERNET CONNECTION NOT AVAILABLE…”

“…im srry mom. I dnt knw wtf is hapnin, army stuk us in the adtorium. I love u…”

“.. continue to control the area. A Martial law has been imposed and all citizens are required to stay indoors…”

“… online video. It has been uploaded to YouTube and it shows the president being shot, around the 5^th minute we can clearly see the military executing university students. The media blackout…”

“…due to conflicting reports. And in other news, the nationwide internet blackout has been temporarily solved by the Ministry of Telecommunications, but atrial service to many sites still persists…”

“… INTERNET CONNECTION NOT AVAILABLE…”