High School Football Team Name Translations

Gentle reader,

Coming from the UK, where "team spirit" means going to the pub after a game, I have always found the names of school football teams over here in the USA a bit odd. The reason is that in my head I like to translate the team names to see what they really mean. For example:

1) The Lake Central Native American Victims of Genocide by European Colonialists

(The Lake Central Indians)

2) The Clearwater Localized and Violently Destructive Windstorms that Kill Hundreds of People Every Year and Leave Thousands more Homeless.

(The Clearwater Tornadoes)

3) Fitzgerald High School Bluish-Red Storm System Characterized by a Low Pressure Center Sometimes Flooding Entire Cities and Leaving Thousands of People Dead or Homeless

(The Fitzgerald High School Purple Hurricanes)

4) The Verrado High School Venonous Snakes Found throughout Africa, Eurasia and the Americas

(Verrado High School Vipers)

5) Vernon Hills Large Cat Whose Population has Dropped Drastically Due to Persecution as a Dangerous Pest Animal Following the European Colonization of the Americas

(Vernon Hills Cougars)

6) Queensbury extremely warlike people from a city in southern Greece which existed from about the 10th century BC until the time of the Byzantine Empire.

(Queensbury Spartans)

It's a fun exercise. I wonder if you can think of any more amusing examples?

Time for today's quote:

"Patriotism is the virtue of the vicious."
-Oscar Wilde

Until the next time, gentle reader, I remain,

Your friend,

Buford Twain

xx

Deep Down, You Already Know That Your Religion is False

Gentle reader,

When push comes to shove, there aren't many religious people who truly believe in their religion. The litmus test is how your feel about death itself. Assuming you are a religious person, allow me to ask you a few questions:

Firstly, how do you feel about your own death? Are you afraid of dying or are you looking forward to it? Does death seem like a wonderful journey? Or are you scared shitless?

How about any friends and family that you currently have that are dying? Are you happy for them? Do you think of that person lying at home or in a hospital bed, and smile to yourself? Or are you filled with a sense of dread and impending loss?

If you are sick, are you currently going to a doctor to get treatment? Or are you hoping to die as quickly as possible?

If you are religious, you should be happy to be getting sick, and happy for any of your friends
and family that are currently dying. It is God's plan. They will soon be nearer to "paradise".

Are you happy about death? If not, ask yourself, why not?

Please take a few minutes to think about this. It's serious stuff.

...

If you are in fact not looking forward to taking a dirt nap, could it be that deep down, you realize that you aren't really going to "heaven"? You realize that your religion won't really save you from death.

You are in good company. When Cardinal Joseph Bernardin of Chicago had cancer some years ago he went to the hospital for some (sadly unsuccessful) treatment. Was the Cardinal trying to give God a little bit of a hand with his master plan? "Oh, God must really want me to live longer, but just doesn't have the time to cure my cancer. Poor old overscheduled God."

Or perhaps the Cardinal was just terrified of dying - just like most of the rest of us.
A religious person going to a doctor - that tells me that their faith isn't quite as rock solid as they might have hoped.

One more question: Have you ever been to a funeral? If so, was it a happy or sad affair?
If it was a religious funeral, shouldn't it be a happy occasion - a time for rejoicing?
Funerals that I have attended have been sad. Naturally, we all know, deep down, that the person has died. They aren't coming back, and we aren't ever going to see them again as we remembered them.

In our hearts, if we are honest, I think almost all of us know the truth.


Time for today's quote:

"Facts do not cease to exist because they are ignored."
--Aldous Huxley


Until the next time, gentle reader, I remain,

Your friend,

Buford Twain

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun (at work)

The idea of men discriminating against women to prevent them from pursuing certain jobs or from reaching higher-level positions such as senior management in America is a myth.

Women can and will do the jobs that they are capable of and that they want to do.

I make these statements on the basis of one observation:

American corporate life is driven almost completely by greed.

So, if a male hiring manager can hire a woman that will make him look good, he will.
That greedy manager wants a bigger bonus and if she can get him that bonus he will hire her.

Let me add this: Men are pigs and will lust after women, demean them, try to hit on them, and so on, at work and outside work. That seems to be an unfortunate part of male DNA.

But, when it comes down to getting the job done, a man tends to hire the best person for the job. If the applicate is a woman I would even bet money that she has an advantage over a male applicant with the same qualifications (the eye-candy factor).

So, why are there so few women scientists and computer engineers in the USA?

I would counter that with the following questions:

Why are there so few women plumbers in the USA?
Why are there so few women electricians in the USA?
Why are there so few women dry-wallers in the USA?
Why are there so few women auto mechanics in the USA?
Why are there so few women participating on volunteer open source software projects like linux and firefox?
Why are there so few women on the John Deere tractor repair forums?
Why are there so few women that work on their cars on weekends?
Why is it mostly the men who do the mechanical repair work around the house?

Here's the reason: In general, women don't like to be plumbers, electricians or dry-wallers,
they don't enjoy mechanical or dirty work, and they don't like writing software. Extrapolating this slightly, I claim that women don't enjoy senior management either.

At some point, we need to wake up and smell the stale coffee that has spent all day simmering in the office kitchen-area: there are some things that women just don't want to do, and they won't do those things even if they pay pretty well.

Cindi Lauper put it best: Girls just wanna have fun.

Women do the jobs that they like to do, and are less influenced by money and power than men are. So, if we stopped trying to lure them into doing the other jobs that they don't really enjoy, and won't be happy in, maybe we'd all be happier.

Time for today's quote, that is not surprisingly by a woman:

Never work just for money or for power. They won't save your soul or help you sleep at night.
-Marian Wright Edelman:

Until the next time, gentle reader, I remain as always

Your Friend,

-Buford Twain

A Few Things I Don't Get About America - On penis-chopping, and other oddities

Gentle reader,

I love America. However, there are a few things that make me wonder. As a non-native (but long-time resident) I'm calling 'em as I see 'em. Free speech is free speech, right?

First of all, let's get one out of the way that curiously, most people here in the US don't seem to think twice about. I am talking about circumcision, the extaordinarily savage practice of cutting off part of a baby's penis shortly after birth. I get the strange impression that most folks don't think that the baby feels the pain of this pointless operation. Let me assure you, babies feel pain. They are acutely aware of pain just like you or I. Also the oft-quoted excuse "they won't remember it" rings hollow to me. By that logic, is it OK to rape a woman because she is drunk and "won't remember it"? Also, there is little justification for the procedure on medical grounds. I won't belabor this point but allow me to address one common justification: "there is less chance that the baby will get penis cancer". Yeah, and if you chop off my arm I can guarantee you that I won't get cancer in that arm. If you chop off my head I guess it will reduce my chances of getting brain cancer too. I hope that 50 years from now, we will look back and laugh at this practice because it doesn't make any sense. By the way, it also causes desensitization of the head of the penis, which changes sex. For better or worse? Debatable (comments?) but usually nature gets things right and it seems presumptuous to try to change it for no particular reason. I'll leave you with one last thought on this one: how do you feel about female genital mutilation (or the removal of a chunk of the clitoris)? OK, why not apply this same reasoning to male circumcision?

Next, what's with the ritualistic recital of the pledge of allegiance in school? To a person born outside this country, this seems very curious and cult-like. I find mindless recital of anything to be an early indicator of problems ahead. Worship of a country or a flag seems like a type of brain-washing to me. Yeah, we are all living in America, that's great but let's all think for ourselves instead of behaving like mindless sheep.

Moving on, what is the deal with the nudity-phobia? It is strangely incongruous that extreme and senseless violence is shown on TV at all hours of the day, but we're not allowed to see a breast or an ass or a penis. Look folks, we all have these things under our clothing. We are not all just floating heads with nothing but pretty clothing from the neck down. Let's become slightly more comfortable with our bodies and not freak out quite so much. A friend of mine often regales me with a story from when he was at a beach somewhere in France . He was just walking along the beach, and many of the girls were topless. No big deal. Until somewhere from the side, a loud Texas-drawl shouts out "LOOK AT THEYEM TEEYATS!!". Yeah, get over it buddy.

OK, another thing that makes no sense to me: you have to be 21 to be able to get an alcoholic drink. If you're 18 years old it's OK to become a soldier and die in Iraq. But sorry, ya can't have a drink. Enough said on that.

Finally, why is it a big problem to be an atheist in the US? Live and let live. This country loves freedom, right? Then let people believe what they like, or nothing. If they are not hurting you, then leave them alone. It is plain to me that atheists don't feel comfortable admitting that they are atheists in the US. As Richard Dawkins points out, it's like being a gay person in America in the 1950's. That is just plain wrong. In the UK and most of Europe, it's just not a big deal and it shouldn't be in the USA either.

Time for today's quote:

No matter that patriotism is too often the refuge of scoundrels. Dissent, rebellion, and all-around hell-raising remain the true duty of patriots. -Barbara Ehrenreich

Until the next time gentle reader I remain, as always,

Your friend,

Buford Twain

Ass Surgery - Just Another Painful Reminder Of the Inevitable End

Gentle reader,

As I go through life I find it's best to pretend that I am immortal. Otherwise, I become preoccupied with dark thoughts. Thoughts such as "how did I get here?", "what's it all for?" and "shit I'm going to die".

Once in a while, however, something medical comes up that reminds me (sometimes quite painfully) that I am getting older. I am mortal after all, and my body is slowly starting to fail. One such event happened last week.

For the squeamish, fair warning: this post contains some graphic details. On the other hand, the principle of "know your audience" tells me that there are some that might enjoy the read. If nothing else, it will allow you to rejoice in your own good health.

Still with me? Good.

So, about 2 months ago, I noticed a strange lump on my ass. No, not on the fleshy part of the butt. A lump on the anus itself, towards the outside. The lump was soft and squishy most of the time. But sometimes when taking a shit it turned extremely hard, like a frozen pea. Mercifully, it wasn't painful at all. Those of you older than, say, 35, may recognize the symptoms (it's pretty common) of a hemorrhoid. So, no big deal. I have an ass lump, I mention this to my dear family and become known as "lumpy". All well and good. Until, one night last week, I awoke in terrible pain - the ass lump has now become permanently hard, engorged with blood, like it's burning and trying to burst.

Well, I am reluctant to let ANYONE mess with my ass. Not even my wife. I know Cosmo tells you that some guys like having their ass played with during sex. Ladies, this is not always the case. Even going to see a doctor was something I didn't want to consider. I would take the pain like a man. Well, I found out that pain trumps modesty. After just one fun-filled day of going to work and pretending that all was OK, I decided enough was enough.

Off to the emergency room I went. Years ago, the receptionists at the ER used to loudly ask what the problem was, forcing you to confess in front of a room full of people. Mercifully, they had changed that policy in favor of letting you write down the problem on a discreet little piece of paper. Knowing this, I had cunningly pre-determined what I would write: "Pain when going to the bathroom". Brilliant! Some truth, but not the whole (hole) truth. No mention at all of an ass lump. I would divulge that only when in the privacy of the doctor's room. Such intimate details were clearly only to be given on a "need to know" basis.

Well, after a short wait, in I went. After the blood-pressure and temperature rigamarole, I described my unfortunate predicament to the nurse. Then the doctor came in and he was a no-messing-around sort of guy. Pants down please, and bend over the table. Wow, another new experience. After a bit of hemming and hawing and messing around, the diagnosis was pronounced: A thrombosed hemorrhoid. That means a hemorrhoid that has managed to get a lump of congealed blood stuck in it. My body, in its infinite wisdom, had figured out that the blood clot needed to be gotten rid of and had started to attack it. The result was a nice little infection that only served to make things even more painful. The result of the visit was an appointment with a dedicated ass-surgeon for the very next day and a prescription for some powerful pain-killers.

Still with me? OK you are a glutton for punishment. So at this point, I was wishing for a remote control like the one given to Adam Sandler in the movie "click". I needed some serious fast-forwarding of my life. But I wasn't getting away with things that easily. After waiting for what seemed like an eternity, my 1pm appointment rolled around and I was finally able to see the ass-surgeon, the person who I now refer to as "my blessed saviour" (doctor MBS). He had a dry sense of humor. Years of digging around in people's butt-holes will do that to you, I suppose. His solution to my problem: local anaesthetic, followed by "lancing" of the offending hemorrhoid. At that point, I would agree to anything (*anything*) that would reduce the pain.

We started immediately. First things first - it was time for more humiliation. Up onto a steel table with some white antiseptic paper coverings, and then my ass cheeks were gently but firmly stretched and taped back into place, 3 pieces of tape on each. They were spread wide open to the world, including the female nurse who was helping out who I had been chatting with a few minutes earlier as she took my blood pressure. The time had arrived for a shot of local anaesthetic. The nurse came over and offered me her hand. Well, isn't that a nice gesture, I thought to myself. But I wasn't going to accept her hand and be a wimp. After all, it was just a local anaesthetic, right? No problemo. Been there, done that.

Wrong. Really, badly, very terribly wrong. Never been wronger, ever in my life.

The pain that I felt when he inserted that needle into the soft, very sensitive, never-touched-by-anything-rougher-than- a-soft-piece-of-bathroom-tissue part of my anus felt like someone had placed a red-hot piece of coal, with shards of glass in it, directly onto and into my anus and held it there for about a minute, every once in a while turning it around and digging it in. I cannot imagine how simply cutting off the hemmorhoid could bring pain even
remotely as bad as that injection. I speak as someone who has also suffered in the past from a kidney stone, which in itself is more painful then childbirth (they tell me) and it was worse, much worse, than that.

The good news...after a couple more minutes, all the pain had gone away. Then doctor MBS was able to cut into the blood-and-puss-engorged lump and remove the clot. After it was out, as a final touch, doctor MBS kindly, thoughtfully, took the time to carry the blood clot over to the head of the table and display it proudly to me. I was at a total loss for words at this point, even though I appreciate good work as much as the next man.

Thankfully, it was all downhill from there. After he was done and I was getting my clothes back on, I glanced back at the table. There was a patch of the white sanitary paper covering that looked like the top of a mcdonalds hamburger - a mixture of mustard and ketchup (just picture the colors). A messy business indeed and as my trips to hospitals and clinics continue I am reminded of my wise decision many years ago to not try to become a doctor or vet of any kind.

So having recovered over the past few days, I feel like I have had a small rebirth. After medical scares all seems new, and then I start to think, shouldn't I do something more productive with my life? Maybe. But for now, I am grateful just to not be in pain.

Time for today's quote:

All life is an experiment. The more experiments you make the better.
-R.W.Emerson

Until the next time, gentle reader, I remain,

Your friend,

Buford Twain