Media Studies Paper

24 is 24 Hours Too Long
Socially Responsible Programming After 9/11

The events of September 11th forever changed America. It changed the country’s perception of the world and of its own security. This change in perception created a ripple effect that ran through all aspects of society. All manner of thought and expression were indelibly changed forever. One of the most notable and visible changes was that of television. Programs produced after 9/11 reflected this change in the nation’s sensibilities and sought to bring meaning to the world after that fateful day.
Many programs that have premiered since 9/11 have attempted to portray changes in the way people think about terrorism. In fact, many shows have blatantly tried to capitalize on people’s fears and misconceptions about terrorism. Shows like 24 glamorize the new style of counter espionage. No longer are the police enough, now secret branches of the government like the one run by Jack Bauer are all that stand between freedom and terrorism. These shows add fuel to the fire and reinforce the message that terrorists are evil and unstoppable except by people like Mr. Bauer. These shows, created by people with no real social conscience, make people believe that the acquiescence of the removal of certain freedoms by the government is the only way to avoid certain doom. These programs do not ask people to think about terrorism, but rather present a horrific picture that the viewer is required to accept as truth.
It is fortunate that other shows that attempt to portray the world after 9/11 try to do so in such a way that the viewer becomes informed about the changes in the world. These shows attempt to create a dialogue where people can attempt to come to some sort of understanding about the new concepts and ideas that have become a way of life. Before 9/11, things like torture and suicide bombings were easy to understand, or so the world thought. These things were wrong. But as the world changed after 9/11 so did the view of these things. Shows like Battlestar Galactica attempt to make people see different viewpoints of ideas and ideologies through the use of metaphors in terms of a war between the last of the human race and the robotic race that they created.
Battlestar Galactica begins with the destruction of planet Caprica, home of the human race, in a sneak attack by the Cylons. The series follows a fleet of civilian ships that travel with the last military battleship, or battlestar, as they search for Earth. The Cylons continue to attempt to eradicate the humans by any means necessary. It isn’t long before the humans discover that all Cylons don’t look like machines, some have been designed that look like humans and are incredibly difficult to distinguish from actual humans. Only through a medical test are these Cylon agents able to be differentiated.
Already we have the development of the metaphor for the post 9/11 world that Battlestar Galactica is. The attack on the human home world of Caprica is reminiscent of the attack on the twin towers. The Cylon infiltrators are not unlike the modern conception of terrorists, people that look like anyone else, an indistinguishable enemy in our midst. By creating a non-human enemy like the Cylons, the writers develop a metaphor for the way the government portrays terrorists, not as people, but as something less than human.
It is because of concepts like this that people are able to accept things like the use of torture in interrogations of terrorists. Terrorists aren’t people, so they don’t deserve the same basic rights we as a society afford onto other people. In the episode “Flesh and Blood” the humans have discovered the fact that Cylons are now able to look human. They have captured the Cylon, Leoben, and need to question him in order to learn more about this new face of the enemy. Admiral Adama, leader of the human military, sends in Kara Thrace, aka Starbuck, one of his top officers, to interrogate their prisoner. Starbuck asks what methods she should use and is told by Adama to use whatever means are necessary. Starbuck proceeds to question Leoben, eventually resorting to beating him and using a bucket of water to nearly drown him. Starbuck tells Leoben to turn off his pain, that because he’s a machine he doesn’t have to endure the torture. This is important because pain is what makes us human, both the ability to experience it and the ability to observe it in others. “When we doubt the truth of another’s pain, we doubt their humanity (Johnson-Lewis 34).” Starbuck attempts to make Leoben a machine, not a person. While Leoben, as a Cylon, is an artificial construction, this scene forces the viewer to think about a question that will underlie the entire series: What makes someone a person? Much like “enemy combatants” in the real world, the Cylons are less than people and as such are not entitled to the rights we, as a society, impart upon individual persons. Starbuck can use whatever methods, no matter how brutal, in her interrogation of Leoben because he’s not a person, he’s something less.
Battlestar Galactica also makes an effort to take concepts that, although alien, have become a part of the post-9/11 world and change them in a way that calls for a re-evaluation. Practices that seem so senseless that they seem to defy rationality are depicted in Battlestar Galactica in such a way that, again, a dialogue is the anticipated result. Most notably, the concept of suicide bombing was presented in such a way that this seemingly senseless and barbaric practice was portrayed realistically as the last resort of people fighting oppression.
At the end of the second season, the humans settle upon a planet they call New Caprica, it’s not Earth, but it’s good enough. Not long after they settle, however, the Cylon fleet catches up with them again. Battlestar Galactica, in orbit with the Battlestar Pegasus, has only a skeleton crew and both ships are in no condition to fight; both ships have to engage their jump drives and flee, leaving the settlers on the planet to their fates. In short order the Cylons become an occupying army. As season three begins we see the results of the Cylons’ “benevolent” rule. Humans are being detained, interrogated and tortured. The president of the colony is a figurehead, with no power and merely a puppet of the occupying force. The writers have created a metaphor for America’s occupation of Iraq, but the humans are the Iraqis and the Cylons are the Americans. The viewer is invested in the plight of the humans and is forced to conceptualize the Iraq war from the viewpoint of the Iraqis.
As the first episode of the third season, “Occupation”, starts, we see Colonel Tigh, former second-in-command of Battlestar Galactica, being released from the detention center, where he was interrogated and tortured, losing his eye in the process. We discover that Tigh is the leader of the resistance on New Caprica. Meeting with his trusted lieutenants, he calls for an increase in attacks on the Cylons. He calls for suicide bombings. Justifiably, his idea is met with opposition. Chief Tyrol, second to Tigh, is horrified and says, “There are some things you just don’t do… not even in war.”(3.01)
Tigh is a bit more pragmatic and responds, “It’s not the first time we sent a soldier on a one way mission. You know that.” (3.01)
But it doesn’t take long before there are volunteers for the bombings; people who have lost their loved ones and feel they have nothing else to live for. The first target is a graduation ceremony for the human police force created by the Cylons. These humans are viewed as traitors by the other humans for becoming the tool of the Cylon oppression, they carry out their duties under cover of night with masks to conceal their identities. The suicide bomber, Duck, infiltrates the ceremony for the new class of recruits. The viewer watches as he presses the button and detonates his bomb, in the name of freedom.
Battlestar Galactica presents the viewer with the idea of suicide bombing, but not from the view of the “liberating” force that has to deal with these attacks upon itself, but rather from the view of the “enemy combatant”. The show “presents us with the futility of a situation in which suicide bombing becomes a justifiable tactic of resistance, but also asks if defeating the Cylons is worth self-destruction (Johnson-Lewis 36).” The show presents us with a view of the suicide bomber, not as a foreign extremist but rather as a person, like us, and makes the viewer decide if what the bomber does is justifiable. Again, the show hopes to create a dialogue in which the question is asked: In a similar situation, what would I do? In this way the show makes what seems an extreme action into an action that has motives that may seem acceptable.
It in these ways that shows like Battlestar Galactica better represent post-9/11 culture than shows like 24 ever could. 24 gives us the hero, Jack Bauer. He must be the hero, he’s played by Kiefer Sutherland and he works for the American government. This only strengthens the assertion that questioning the government and its actions are unacceptable. In the world of 24, America is the good guys and terrorists are the bad guys.
This isn’t the case in Battlestar Galactica. The use of low-key lighting and a very shallow depth of field create a feeling of unease. Characters tend to be slightly out of focus, not unlike their motives. Post-feministic attitudes are prevalent throughout; women are portrayed as being strong or weak based on their moral character, not because of an attempt to compensate for misogynistic ideals of a woman’s role in positions of leadership. Women are not portrayed as “either bitch-betrayer or terrorized victim (Hark 138)” like they are in 24.
The events of 9/11 forever changed the American conscience. The ways in which Americans view themselves, others, and the rest of the world will never be the same. Numerous programs will not only be affected by these changes, but will attempt to analyze these new perceptions and depict them in their storylines. While shows like Battlestar Galactica will portray these new ideas in a socially conscious way in order to create an atmosphere for critical thought about these issues, shows like 24 will only attempt to glamorize these changes in the worst ways possible. It is up to the viewer to decide what makes for watchable television.






Hark, Ina Rae. “Today is the Longest Day of My Life.” In Film and Television After 9/11, edited by Wheeler Winston Dixon, 121-140. Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press, 2004

Johnson-Lewis, Erika. “Torture, Terrorism, and Other Aspects of Human Nature.” In Cylons in America: Critical Studies in Battlestar Galactica, edited by Tiffany Potter and C.W. Marshall, 27-39. New York: Continuum Publishing, 2008

Don't Let the Door Hit you on the Way Out, Mr. Summer

I've been quite negligent in keeping up with posts. I blame Summer. At first that seems like a cop-out. But then, the coolness of Fall starts to peek it's head out. I'm able to wear a sweatshirt again, the air is a friend rather than an oppressive despot, and it feels like the engine that is my brain sputters and kicks into gear. Slowly chugging at first and eventually building up a tempo. It may be more than just the weather. School has started again. Going to class and talking about Greek Drama and watching magnificent French films means using my brain again. The unused muscle has reason to work again.

Screw you Summer.

My Dad, Yoda

So my wife had been trying to get me to exercise for a while. It's not like she was nagging, I needed to do it and we both knew it. Sometimes I need firm but gentle reminders to get my lazy ass in gear. She found a workout called Couch to 5K. It's a workout for couch potatoes like me that helps you go from fat slob to being able to run 5K (or roughly 3 miles) in two months. Each week it gets a little tougher, but they ease you in to it.

I just finished the second week's workout. My wife has been very supportive and that helps a ton.

But I keep coming back to a conversation I had with my dad two weeks ago when I told him I was going to start the next day.

"I'm going to give it a try." I said.

"Don't try, do." He said.

Fatherly wisdom is an awe-inspiring thing.

The Dark Knight

I'm going to plagiarize myself and post here something I posted elsewhere. I think more people might see it here though.

Originally posted on InstantCool.com by me..

I don't want to oversell it, but there will never be a movie this good ever again.


Heath Ledger as the Joker

I had my doubts. I really didn't think he was a very good actor and I felt like he was going to be the Katie Holmes of the installment. After seeing him as the Joker I think it's a damn shame that he's going to win the best actor Oscar after he's dead. Because between his portrayal (and the fact that he died during the filming of it) he has the Oscar sewn up. In the same way that they made Batman into a character that makes you think "this is what Batman would be like in the real world", now they they make you say "this is what the Joker would be like in the real world." I don't want to give any spoilers. I'm just saying this is the way the Joker should be portrayed.

Action Sequences

Wow. In case you missed it the first time, wow. That's really all I can say. You can walk out of a Summer popcorn action flick and say OMG and holy fucking shit because the action in it was so great. This is the next day and all I can say is wow. They were just that incredible that I'm still at a complete loss of words. And they were so amazing that there's no words for me to explain how absolutely amazing they were. When you sit in those IMAX chairs and feel the rumble of the Bat Pod on screen shaking you through your nether regions, it's like touching the hand of god.

Story Line

The story is awesome. Every time, and there's a lot of these times, that you think to yourself that you know what's going to happen next, you don't. Every time you think to your self that you know what the Joker is up to, you don't. Every time you think you know what Batman is going to do, wrong-o! The story is incredible.

The Rest of the Cast

Impeccable casting. Nuff said.




Why are you reading this? You should be making plans to go to the IMAX to see this, and if you can't do that at least go to the theater to see it. It really is an incredible work of art.

On a Happier Note

Check out my dad's blog.

Summer

I want to be creative. I want to sit and write. But Summer is here. Summer with it oppressive heat. Summer with it's humidity pressing down on me like a lifetime of heavy.

Summer.

The sun is blinding and going outside is nothing but pain.

I hate Summer so much.

Maybe some day when I get to sit in an air-conditioned office all day I'll sing a different tune. But not now. Now I have to put up with will-sapping things like the heat index. Which mean that as hot as it is, the humidity is going to make it feel hotter.

I can't wait till Fall.

Part of My Childhood Died

My wife works in West Allis. As such, the credit union near the school she works at is the most convenient or recommended by the teachers' union or some sort of thing, and that is where our accounts are. I had my account at a different bank that had been convenient for me back in my landscaping days, but had become the most biggest pain in the ass of a bank in recent years. I won't tell you their name, but I Guaranty that good service there is meager.

Anyway, I decided I liked my wife's bank because it was across the street from a Shakey's. Shakey's pizza isn't gourmet and there are no free soda refills, but mojo potatoes are the most awesome invention ever. I tried for years to figure out how they made those golden brown pieces of deliciousness, to no avail. I even contemplated getting a job at Shakey's just so I could learn the secret process. And any place that has mojos and all the pizza and chicken and spaghetti you can eat is worth the trip.

My wife isn't quite as much of a Shakey's fan as I am. I think it may have something to do with childhood. I always knew, as a child, that a trip to the JCPenny Warehouse Store had a high probability of being coupled with a stop at Shakey's for lunch. My wife, however, has a fondness for truck stop fare. She may deny it, but truck stops taught her to eat her french fries with tartar sauce, a habit she carries on to this day.

We went to drop off my checks from my new job yesterday and do some other assorted bank business. I was able to convince my wife to stop at Shakey's for lunch.

To my dismay, I discovered that yesterday was the last day that Shakey's would ever be open. They were closing their doors after 37 years. I ate as many mojos as I could, savoring each bite because I knew I would never have one ever again. I ate cheeseburger pizza (which tastes just like a big mac) gyro pizza, fried chicken, and even a little bit of salad until any more eating was an impossibility. And I left Shakey's for the last time with a heavy heart.

And a full tummy.

Welcome Back Summer

I checked the date on my phone last night. It was then that I realized that my old enemy was back and he had bushwacked me like nefarious bastards are prone to do.

Summer was back.

Some of you may be saying "But Summer is awesome! There's festivals, vacations, you can go swimming.." My only response to you is shut up. Yes, I know it's not the most eloquent of responses, but Summer affects me like a brick upside the head does, a very hot brick.

Heat. That's Summer's main weapon. Debilitating heat that makes breathing a big pain in the ass. Generally Heat will bring his pal Humidity along for the ride and then life really becomes an energy-sapping, sweat-soaked joy ride.

As I may have said before, I'm going to college to become a writer and I am currently working as a cook. You may think that I am becoming a writer so that I can get a better job and make more money. You're half right. Remember when I mentioned I was a cook? Go back and reread the paragraph if you need to or just take my word for it. Until they get that whole cold fusion thing working, most cooking involves heat. That's just how it's done. So Summer in a kitchen is just joy on top of wonderful. (In case you haven't been paying attention, that was sarcasm)

"But," you say, "restaurants are air conditioned." Ah... insightful... insightful and painfully wrong! Air conditioning costs money, it costs even more when you are trying to cool the hottest room in the place. Most restaurant owners are in it for the money, and you don't make money by trying to cool off a bunch of cooks that you gotta pay in the first place! Customers are giving you money, it makes sense to make them comfortable. That makes them come back and that kind of recidivism is a good thing. Some owners go so far as dressing up their cooks in thick chef jackets. Think about it, it's called a jacket. You wear jackets in the Spring when there's a little chill in the air and your mom tells you to take a jacket. You don't wear them in the Summer, especially not in the hottest place you can think of.

Why am I studying to become a writer? (technically a journalist but I've found that people look at you like you told them you're going into a career of killing puppies when you tell them you're studying to become a journalist.. thank you very much Ann Coultier) I'm studying to become a writer so that I can be the guy sitting in the air conditioning without a jacket. Maybe then Summer and I can be friends.

Maybe.

The Virtual Gamer World

I may have said it before, I like playing video games. I'm not great at video games, but generally I can hold my own.

Also, I remember growing up in the country where it was difficult to find other people to play games with. Now I live in the city and close to friends who like to play video games, but I, like my friends, have a job and it's not also easy without planning to get together for playing a game. One of the beautiful things about the internet is that it has created a way for people from all over to get together and play video games. Of course that also usually means that you end up playing against someone who is much better than you. I've learned not to mind that. After all, playing against someone better is a good way to learn how to play better.

But now video games incorporate the sounds of players. It's nice to be able to chat with a buddy while you kill orcs or tell a teammate where the enemy is. It also let's other players chastise you when you play poorly. Generally most people are pretty cool about not being mean about it. Especially if it's obvious if, like me, you suck compared to the rest of the group.

But nothing feels quite as humiliating as being ridiculed by a disembodied voice from a kid. I don't know how old he was, but with Summer Break going on he could have been quite young and it didn't sound like his voice had changed yet. Worse, he was one of the administrators for the game server I like to play on and had the ability to ban me from playing there if I said anything. Even worse, I had made a rookie mistake and he was right to say something.

Ahhh....

Ain't technology great?

wOOt!

I got a job!

I Try to be Creative

Follow-Up

Received at 9:30 pm Wednesday..

Dear Rob,

Thank you so much taking time out to come and interview for the cooks position.
I have hired someone to come in and take over the kitchen.
Sincerely
Jeannie

I wonder if it's Chef Dave?

The Interview Process

So yesterday I went in for an interview at a pizza place on North Avenue, across from Judge's Pub. (Very near where I used to live) As I approached the place and got a good view of it, I was a bit worried. The windows had that writing on it that you often see in stores going out of business. They were advertising their different specials.

I went inside anyways and when the bartender asked what she could do for me, I told her I had an appointment with Jeanie. She pointed to a woman holding a baby, at a table strewn with papers. I introduced myself and she asked me to go into the kitchen so that I could make some food.

There were three guys in the kitchen. One was probably about my age and looked a little dumb. He seemed nice enough but there didn't seem to be that spark of intelligence. The next guy was a little guy with full sleeve tattoos on each arm. He was nice enough, but he had scabbed over scrapes on his face that are generally consistent with fighting. Although he may have fallen on his face, who knows. The last guy was an older gentleman named Sal. He had a very thick Italian accent and seemed like a very nice guy. I made a pizza, Sal pointed out the mistakes (minor) that I had made. Then he showed me how to make a stromboli.

Apparently the woman was the kitchen manager and Sal was the head cook. It was easy to tell that there was a lot of tension there. Sal obviously bristled at doing things the way he was told rather than how he wanted to do them. He said something to me about doing something the way the bosses wanted it done rather than how he knew it should be done. I told him I knew how it was, that I had dealt with similar situations.

I made the pizza, some alfredo and a shrimp scampi. They seemed to like it all. Of course, I burnt my mouth on the pizza. I really want to work, but it seemed like a place filled with tension. They told me they would call me last night and tell me their decision. I got an e-mail this morning telling me that the kitchen manager still had to meet with the owners before she could make a decision.

I seem to remember a saying about too many cooks and what happens to the broth..

I Need Some Time Off

I think that most people, busy with life, have wished that they had more free time. I've found myself in the situation that with a job, school, married life, and trying to have a social life, I find myself without enough free time. When I used to landscape, we would be laid-off in the Winter, only working if there was a snowstorm for which we spent the day doing snow removal. I remember thinking fairly recently that I wished I was laid-off, then I'd have more time to do stuff.

Then I lost my job.

This, of course, happened right around the end of the semester.

Suddenly I had nothing but free time. At first it seemed pretty cool. Then, after a day or two, it started to get boring. I found that the things I like to do, like play video games, are more fun when you only have a little bit of time to enjoy them. When you have time to play, you find yourself playing until you get sick of the game. This might change if I was better, but I kind of suck at most video games.

Not having a job means I'm not bringing money into the household. Which means if I need anything that costs money I feel too guilty to spend the money I didn't make. Which means less groceries. I like cooking, and working as a cook generally means you can eat what you want at work. Suddenly, not only am I not eating the stuff at work, but I also don't have the resources to make good food at home.

I am so sick of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Although we just ran out of jelly so that's just going to get worse.

Man, I need to go to work.

Closing in on the drain..

Job hunting is frustrating. Maybe not as frustrating as actually working with someone you hate, but I digress.

From what I've found, the best way to look for a job is to keep a close eye on Craigslist. Specifically the Milwaukee postings (The Anchorage postings aren't going to help a lot). Sifting through the listings and applying for every job that sounds even remotely appropriate. This means I got to a lot of interviews for chefs (which I'm not) and try to bluff my way through. It generally doesn't work, and it's surprising how many places think they need a chef rather than a decent cook.

The real frustration sets in when you stumble upon jobs that you actually want. I want a job, let's be clear. However, the place that's like a hipster diner two blocks away that has the best burger in town, I want to work there. The restaurant run by the top chef in town that just happens to be looking for a cook, not a chef, but a cook, I want to work there.

Not being able to find a job and spinning down the whirlpool to the drain that is the fast-food industry sucks bad enough. But applying for awesome jobs and sitting around vainly hoping that they call before you resign yourself to a horrible fate just makes it so much more hopeless.

Gotta go, gotta go check my e-mail and Craigslist. Something may have happened in the last 15 minutes.

Heroes

I once fell down some stairs carrying some hot oil. I got burns on 17% of my body, my legs and foot. I spent a month in the hospital. I could barely move, I slept very little because I couldn't roll over, when I finally didn't have a catheter and could walk to the bathroom I still had to have someone come and help me "clean up." As painful as the burns were, the skin grafts were even more excruciating. They took skin from my upper legs, and grafted it to the burned, lower parts. It was horrible and if it wasn't for my family and the woman who would become my wife, I don't know how I would have made it through.

Today I read about this guy.

I had burns on 17% of my body. He had them on 97%.

They had to take skin from the few places on his body that weren't burned to grow skin for grafts. Then when the donor sites healed, they had to do it again.

From what I read and learned in the burn ward, this guy should have been dead. But he fought. Fought till the end.

This guy is what a hero is. This guy went to Iraq because he was a Marine. He was doing his duty. Regardless if the fight is right or wrong, he was doing his duty.

Memorial Day is when we remember heroes. Men and women that gave their lives for their country.

People like Merlin German.

College is Made Up of Brick Walls

Ah, the college years. Those halcyon days of our youth filled with meeting new friends, learning new things, and discovering what a keg stand is. That is unless you're in your late 30's and going back to school to avoid being stuck in the service industry till you die. Then you don't make many new friends as you're "that creepy old guy", you still learn new things, and you're far too old to be doing keg stands.

I have to say, parts of college I really do enjoy. Learning is fun. I enjoy taking classes where I learn things I didn't know before. I enjoy having thoughtful discussions with my professors and take pride when one of them points out that I made a good point. I haven't made too many friends, but I am beginning to see evidence that I have made an impression on some of my fellow students. A few even wave or smile at me when I walk past.

However, the faceless, heartless bureaucracy that runs the college makes me feel like running full steam into a brick wall would be time better spent. I am elated when they decide to change a policy that will enable me to declare my major in the field I want to major in. Unfortunately, they make the policy not go into effect until a week before the next semester starts. Which makes it hard to get classes. I have been fortunate up until this point to meet a few people willing to help. I have also met many people that seem hell-bent in making my life harder through general incompetence or just plain spite. Still I must press on, rattle cages, and plead for help from anyone in a position to give it.


My head hurts but I think I'm putting a dent in the wall.

Licenziato

I'm only a cook. And when I say "I'm only a cook" I still mean that I'm a damn good cook. I take a lot of pride in my job and I think I do it well. I also believe that for any job, especially cooking, the whole team has to pull together and work as one. You need to know that the guy next to you is doing their job. You also have to have the guy next to you doing his best, everything that comes out of that kitchen is everyone's responsibility.

They hired a new guy at work about a month ago. They were looking for a line cook and this guy came in with good qualification, maybe a bit over-qualified. They hired him and I assumed he was part of the team.

This was not the case.

The first night we worked together it came time for the end of the night clean-up. Food has to be put away, utensils have to be taken back to the dishwasher, floors swept, etc. This starts in earnest after the kitchen is closed. The faster it gets done, the sooner you go home. When it's time to clean-up, this guy makes himself some food and goes and starts eating. It's acceptable to eat while you work, but stopping to eat is bad form. I went up to him and politely asked him to help finish up so we could get out of there. He ignored me. The next day I said something to the owner. Before I knew it I was in a meeting with the owner and this new guy. He informed me that he was a chef, not kitchen help. He had accolades and skills and didn't do clean-up. He said I had a bad attitude and I better change.

To be clear, up until I met this guy, I was the happiest guy at work. I loved my job, I loved the food I made, and I enjoyed everybody I worked with.

I did my best to get through the meeting and try to put it behind me. That night he told me that I talked too much and I needed to concentrate more. I've always been a proponent of work and talk. The idea goes that you can talk as long as you keep working while you do so. It's an acceptable method in any kitchen. Apparently only he was able to talk, I had to shut up.

So I shut up and fell in line like a good German. I didn't like it, but I liked my job so much that I would do what I had to do.

A week ago I came in early and I was working with the other cook and the owner. We were joking and laughing, just like old times. Then the chef came in. I tried to put on a glad face and continue being gregarious. Apparently this pissed him off because he took me aside and said that if I didn't shape up I was going to get fired.

Needless to say I was upset.

When the other cook and the bar manager asked me why I was upset, I told them. They both said that was unacceptable. You can't go around threatening to fire people without reason. They both said they would talk to the owner about it.

Last night I went to work. The owner asked me if I would go and talk to him in the back. He told me that he was sad that I wasn't happy. He said he had to stand by the chef, no matter what a bad person he was. He said that maybe it would be best if I looked for a different job and that he would give me a good reference.

I was "let go" because I liked my job too much and got upset when someone with no skills came in and started wrecking it.

No Time To Rock Out

So I had been bugging my wife to let us buy Guitar Hero for a while. Some friends of ours have Rock Band and Guitar Hero. After we visited them the other night, we ended up getting in an argument about money and household responsibilities. We're still paying back people for our wedding and reception and our house needs to be cleaner. However, my love of video games and rock and roll music made me desire Guitar Hero since the first time I played it. So last night the wife asked me if I would go with her to Target to pick up a few things, I said sure.

As we were walking past the Wii section, I didn't slow down. I didn't want to torture myself, but she headed over to it. She looked down at Guitar Hero and then looked at me with that look in her eye.

"Well... it is on sale."
"Are you sure? Don't mess with me."

It should be noted that in the kitchen business, when your co-worker tells you to leave early and that they'll do the cleanup, etiquette demands that you ask them "Are you sure?" at least once. You can do this while running out the door, over your shoulder, not waiting for any response or you can stand there and ask a few times. The idea being that you're giving them one last chance to change their mind without penalty.

She was sure and we got the clerk to get it out for us.

Unfortunately, I have a paper due next Tuesday that will require a fair amount of effort on my part. Having Guitar Hero sitting in the living room doesn't make it any easier to work on it.

I can't wait until Tuesday afternoon.

Meeting New People

My good friend and I have been getting together on Mondays. We tend to get together during the day and have some coffee and talk about work and stuff. My friend is a chef and I'm a cook so Monday is one of the days we both have off. Considering that it's Monday, I like having him to hang around with because no one else has off on Monday.

I called him early in the day, late enough so that he'd be awake but early enough that he wasn't doing anything else. He was already doing something else. He said he would call me when he was done with the stuff he was doing. Long story short (too late) he ended up falling asleep and didn't call me until late in the afternoon. He asked if I wanted to come over at night and have some beers and play some video games. He said he was going to have some other guys over as well. I said sure.

The other guys that he had over are friends of his I don't completely know. The one guy lives near me and is a pretty nice guy. He's pretty mellow and nice. I had never met the other guy though. He talked a lot. The kind of nervous talk that people tend to do when they're not completely comfortable and they're overcompensating. That's not really too big of a deal. It was more what he talked about.

Like a lot of guys, I look at porn. Sometimes I'll even forward something I've seen to a friend. The desired response to something like this is usually something like "Thanks for the e-mail. That woman was hot." Or something to that effect, if anything. However this guy decided to go into excruciating detail about what kind of porn he liked, what he liked about it, why porn on his high-def tv was better than being married, etc. When we started playing video games he decided to narrate what might happen to the characters in the fighting game after the game was over. And it tended to be graphic and excessively misogynistic. What really frustrated me was that he had brought his sketchbook and he was a really good artist. I had been hoping to find someone to work with on a comic book and I was excited to have finally found a good artist.

Then he opened his mouth.

I Don't Wear My Sunglasses at Night

I've never been one to wear sunglasses. I find that I usually end up losing them or sitting on them or just turning them into some sort of poor investment.

I was at work and someone had left their sunglasses behind so I was walking around the kitchen wearing them. Alex, the dishwasher, commented that I should get some cop glasses. A day or two later the wife and I were doing some shopping and using up the last of the gift cards we had gotten as gifts for our wedding. We walked past a display for sunglasses that were on sale. So I got some.

What I like about sunglasses is that you can stare at people without them knowing that you're looking at them. When I was younger and more single, this usually meant looking at the ladies. Now, however, it seems to tie in nicely with my using the bus. There seems to be a propensity for crazy people on the bus. Thus, staring at crazy people on the bus has become one of my favorite pastimes.

I realized, last night, that I was staring at some crazy people getting on the bus. Since it was after 11 p.m. there was little reason for wearing my sunglasses. Crazy people resent when you stare at them. It was only after some angry, confrontational stares from the crazy people that I realized I was staring without benefit of sunglasses. Fortunately I made it home alive.

A Note On Bears

Hollywood animal trainer distraught over fatal bear attack

By GILLIAN FLACCUS

BIG BEAR LAKE, Calif. (AP) — The owner of a wild animal training center where a grizzly bear killed a handler says the animal is a "loving, affectionate, friendly, safe bear," but he is at a loss to explain how a "simple routine" turned tragic.

At a loss to explain how the "simple routine" turned tragic? Really? You're baffled as to why a bear would suddenly start acting like a bear? Okay, try this, it's a bear! I think it's absolutely unbelievable that people would be shocked and surprised when a bear starts acting like what it is. I think it's even more audacious that these same people would turn around and talk about whether or not the bear needs to be destroyed. That's right folks, they want to kill the bear for being a bear. Bad, old bear.

Not long ago a woman was attacked by a couple of big cats she had as pets. Apparently the cats went into predatory mode when they were surprised by a child's ball. The woman didn't die. When the news asked her what she was going to do with the cats and whether or not she would keep working with the cats, the woman said yes. Yes she would keep working with the cats and she wasn't going to destroy the animals. She said that the animals were just following their instincts and it was her fault for letting her guard down.

A lot of people decide to do things that are dangerous or perhaps foolish. That's their right. In fact we applaud people that do the dangerous things like being policemen or firemen or soldiers. That's probably the way it should be. However, when was the last time you heard a firefighter complain about fire being too hot? Or a soldier upset about the fact that people were shooting at them? If you want to train bears for a living, get ready for when the bear starts doing what bears do.

Here's a piece I wrote about when I burnt myself falling down the stairs with a big pot of hot grease.

September Rain

My feet betray me
as grease-slicked boot meets rain-covered stair

They reach for the sky
and leave me
to my own devices.

My ass seeks support
and finds it in the form of a wet step.

The grease flies
upwards
and comes down
like a harsh rain full of hate.

Where it falls it makes slick
where it falls it ravages.

Soaking through clothes
and kissing the flesh underneath

kissing with pain.

Sliding down into a grease-slicked boot and making the inside grease-slicked
grease-slicked and hot.

I
can’t
control
the
screams.

My First Negative Food Review

I love food. I've never had to write a bad review before but my experience at this place really bummed me out.

Here's the review..

The Annona Bistro located at 2643 South Kinnickinnic Avenue in downtown Bayview is a newer place, just opening in the last year. My wife and I stopped in the other night in an effort to try something new. We may stop trying new things.

I had never been in Annona before and as I entered I was immediately impressed by how many tables they were able to get into such a small place. Some may say it makes the place look cluttered and they may be right. After a few minutes someone directed us to a table in back. As we made our way to the table we passed display cases showcasing the different sandwiches and fresh from the box deserts and a sign that advertised the soup of the day as Cheddar Broccoli.

Perusing the menu, which can be found on their website at annonabistro.com, they specialize in food with a Mediterranean flair. Some of their entrees sounded good, but my wife and I decided to have the soup and sandwich combo, as we were both hungry for some good Cheddar Broccoli soup and one of the delicious looking sandwiches we had seen on our way in. The very friendly waitress took our order and as we waited I perused the drink list. Apparently besides carrying the very good coffee roasted by the Anodyne Coffee Roasting Company, Annona has a full selection of cocktails featuring 11 varieties of martinis. When our soup arrived, it was abundantly apparent that it wasn’t Cheddar Broccoli. We chased down our waitress and asked her about this. She told us that they had forgotten to change the sign and the new soup was Curry Lentil. Neither of us being fans of lentils, we asked if we could get something else. After checking in the kitchen the waitress told my wife that she would be able to get a cup of the Broccoli Cheddar for her. I decided to try the “award-winning” Sweet Potato and Black Bean Chili. When it arrived, the Broccoli Cheddar was watery, almost as if the last scrapings from the pot had been stretched for a final bowl. As for my “award-winning” chili, it was good but certainly not what I would expect to win awards. It was a pretty pedestrian chili moderately seasoned with chili powder and little else.

Our sandwiches arrived, I had gotten the Roast Beef Panini and my wife got the Italian. Normally served with a pickle spear, chips, and a red pepper aioli, however when ordered as part of the soup combo you get none of these. No chips I can understand, but no pickle seems a bit stingy. We asked if we could still get some of the aioli and our waitress went and got us some gladly. The bread used for the paninis is absolutely wonderful, it’s certainly some of the best bread I have ever eaten. I tried to tell my wife this but was drowned out by the piano player that felt that playing loudly helped make for a relaxing atmosphere. I was disappointed that my sandwich consisted of only meat, cheese and few tomatoes; I felt some red onion would really complete it. My wife’s Italian Panini had some delicious Italian meats and good provolone, but the mild giardinera was sparse; a healthy portion would have really made this a good sandwich.

I would not say that the Annona Bistro is bad. It has really good bread. However, I would not recommend it. It seems like they have a lot of good ideas that don’t seem to have been thought out completely. Most of their dishes, if improved just slightly, have the potential to be really great. Until then, you’re better off going somewhere that gets it right.

Academic Appeal

So, due to bad advice from the world's worst college advisor, I was told that I couldn't declare a Journalism major because of my GPA. UW-Milwaukee is counting my GPA from when I went there 17 years ago as part of my current GPA. They are not, however, counting my GPA from the classes I took at UW-Sheboygan. I reluctantly declared as a English major on the advice from my advisor.

I decided not to give up the fight and appealed to the former Undergraduate Advisor for the School of Journalism. Turns out the requirements regarding GPA have been changed to accommodate people with extenuating circumstances like mine. Which my advisor had told me was not the case after I brought it to her attention.

The Undergraduate Advisor has since changed jobs and he forwarded my appeal to the appropriate people. He added that he could tell that I was a good writer.

I have to admit, it is some of the best writing I've done.

Let me start out by saying I understand that current policy requires a GPA of 2.5 and grades of B or better in 101 and 201 to declare a major in the School of Journalism. While I have more than fulfilled the requirements of getting a B or better in 101 and 201, despite my diligence, there seems to be no way to bring my GPA above a 2.5. My current GPA is a result of my lack of commitment over 15 years ago. If you were to look at my cumulative GPA since I have come back to school, you would find it’s higher than the required 2.5.

For the past 17 years I have worked as a cook and a landscaper. I have toiled building walls with 80-pound bricks and worked in kitchens where the temperature exceeded 120 degrees. I am not looking for a free pass here, I am just asking for a chance. I have always enjoyed writing; I feel it’s something that I am good at and something that I would like to build a career on. I have also learned that journalism is not only a way to make money through writing, but also a way in which to help your fellow man. I have seen countless journalists bring light to corruption, wrongdoing, and how the system fails the common man. My dream was to emulate these people, to become a person that could use my skills and knowledge to make the world a better place.

However, the current criteria dictate that a GPA of 2.5 is required to become a Journalism Major. The reasoning behind this decision was to ensure that students would be able to satisfactorily complete the work of upper level courses. I believe that I could complete this work, but because of a GPA from 17 years ago I will not get the chance. Despite the fact that in 17 years I have learned the value of commitment, dedication and hard work, the School of Journalism does not believe that I have the level of competence necessary to complete a course of studies resulting in a degree. I feel that this is unfair and that this policy by the School of Journalism is dehumanizing. This policy reduces me to just another number, not a person with dreams to build a life for my family and to help make the world a better place.

I don’t deny the fact that rules need to be made in order to ensure that students are up to the task and able to complete the requirements for their degree. I just feel that in my case the rules don’t work. They look at the numbers on a transcript, not at the person. They fail the individual and I thought that was the antithesis of journalism.

All I want is a chance.

7 8 9

Vocal Log: Deep Space Expedition

I awoke to a grisly sight. Apparently, there was a malfunction with the hibernation pods. Pods One through Six suffered a massive power loss, there were no survivors. Apparently this also affected Pod Seven and its occupant. I don’t know how long Seven was awake, although it seems that he has regressed to a near feral state. I was awoken by the normal procedures. When I regained my senses, I saw that Seven had broken into Nine’s Pod while they were still in hibernation. Seven ate Nine. And now I fear he’s…

No more entries.

Poetry

We had to write a piece of prose poetry based on a picture we chose at random. Here are my results.

Dumb Bunny

“It’s a great plan.”

It’s a horrible plan.

Everything Adam tells me carries with it a brown taint of stupid. His words ooze into my head and pollute with a dirty fog. My head hurts. My empty stomach hurts more.

We only get half a block.

The truck was broken.

Adam’s pink fist slams against the dash

again

and again.

Pathetic man sobs

“Not fair.”

“Get out of the truck.”

“Not fair.”

Hands grab and pull. Concrete kisses face. A tiny piece of something jabs and presses against a temple. A boot, tight-laced and brutal, presses against the other.