Term Limits

So, term limits were imposed in the City of New York after the three term reign of Mayor Ed Koch (yes, of The People’s Court fame).  In 1993, the City Council decided that 2 terms was more than enough for people to do their work.  We wouldn’t want people to be power hungry and make themselves a monarchy of New York… would we?

Come Rudy Giuliani in 2001.  It was not even been 10 years since term limits had been on the books, and he wanted to extend his term by three months.  Even though his approval rating was high – the people said no.  The City of New York said we were stronger than one man, one citizen.  As a system, we could overcome this disaster of 9/11 without the command of Mayor Giuliani.  Oddly enough – the people were right, and we elected Billionaire Mayor Michael Bloomberg.

Now, 15 years after the realization of term limits and 7 years after Rudy’s failed attempt at a short extension, we see him vying for a third term as mayor.  Yikes.  Yesterday, the Council we elected to represent the people voted against city term limits and provided an extension for Bloomberg… Ironically, the Council members who would have upheld the two-term limits were probably already out of office because… of term limits.  So, what does New York City have now?  A mayor who will undoubtably lose popularity because of this circus he’s put on.  We have a City Council that has discredited itself by actively going against something the people have enforced twice by vote and ignoring the conflict of interest issue (they’ve extended their own terms along with the mayor’s).  We have a population of 8 million people who’s opinion and rights were throw out at the whim of one person, Michael Bloomberg.

My vote for president does not matter.  My vote for US Senator matters somewhat, but my vote for mayor is incredibly crucial… at least I thought it was.  Local politics is always the people’s realm.  Why even have elections this year?  The council should just extend his second term indefinitely.

If we can keep the people concentrated on this topic enough, there might still be hope.  The people might be so angry, that they elect someone else.  Wouldn’t that be something?  Only that would be able to restore my faith in democracy.

JJRC

Quinnipiac’s Tight Security

Quinnipiac University is a small university in Hamden, CT.  We had been on a short tour of Connecticut, and my friend decided to purchase a QU shirt for his little sister and then drive there to drop it off.  We had more than enough time to do so.

As we arrive, we note that the campus is beautiful and covered in leaves.  It was never this “autumny” at Cornell.  We drive up to the guard shack by the student center and inquire about quickly parking inside.  The guard was your average Joe smoking by the guard shack.  He said we were not allowed to enter the campus or we would be trespassing.

Fair enough.

We ask if we could call her and have her come out to meet us.  He says we can sit in 10 minute parking.  We hang out by the car because any further will be trespassing, and this guy really wouldn’t budge on his stance.  Andy’s sister comes out in flip flops.  We all say hello.  Andy asks her to see if maybe she could be get us in.  She walks over to the guard and turns up the charm.  At this point the guard yells at her and asks, “How hard is it to register people?!” She comes back defeated.  At this point, it became a matter of getting in or being asked to leave.

Andy walks up slowly.

Andy: Umm, can we drop my sister off at her dorm?

Guard: We don’t run a taxi service.

Andy: Yea, but its cold, and we saw taxis drive by….

Guard: Well – they can only go to the bus stop over there (points to bus stop).

Andy: Can we drop my sister off at the bus stop?

Guard: No.

Andy:  Huh?

At this point, a man drives up with a younger man.
 
Man: I’m just going to drop my son off at the dorms.

Guard: Sure thing.

Andy: Umm, you just let that guy through

Guard: Yea, so?

Andy: You didn’t check ID.

Guard: He was a parent with his son.

Andy: How come he gets let through?

Guard: He was dropping stuff off from the weeknd. (Great reason not to check ID – hard ass. I start laughing at the ridiculousness of that statement.)  You’re going to have to leave or I’m going to call the police.

Sure, a breach of security of a “parent” and his “son” being let on to campus is grounds to call the real police.  We continued laughing and he grunted as we got into the car.  We wanted to roll down the windows to say have a good weekend, but why push our luck?

So, lesson learned.  Don’t look mildly confused when arriving on the Quinnipiac Campus – if not, you will be stopped and harrassed.  Meanwhile, if you are a taxi, a bus, random vehicle, walking, actually have a pass or say you are parent. you should be fine.  Apparently security guards at QU do their jobs to extremes (either very well – in our case – or poorly – in the case of that crazed maniac claiming to be a “parent”)

JJRC

Be Optimistic – What a wonderful phrase

Life is not without its ups and downs.  I have watched enough episodes of Full House to learn that much.  The Danny Tanner speeches are lame, but his big head makes a valid point.  Be optimistic.  Though a horrendous amount of shit has happened to me since conception (including the traumatic birth experience), I attempt to be as optimistic as possible – because others have made it through – and so will I.

People periodically open up to me – and in all seriousness, some terrible things happen to everyone.  My worst thing ever may be a drop in a barrel compared to some of my friends.  The ones who open up tell stories of murder, death and turmoil.  It’s a life I would never want, but they have made it through.  If they can, I can.

Life is better than you think.  Things could always be better.  Nothing is ever as bad as we think it is.  

JJRC

Capital One… Why!?

As I walked to work, I noticed a street cart at my intersection.  The light was red, and I couldn’t cross because the cabs were zooming by far above the speed limit.  I opted to check out what the cart had to offer.  It offered coffee… so I got a large for $1.25 which is actually not that bad, plus it gave me a blog idea which really is priceless.

I walked with my scalding hot coffee cup to my office, and I set it down before me at our monthly staff meeting.  Of course, I paid close attention to the meeting agenda for about 40 minutes while we discussed our new compensation policy (u no – I gotz 2 get paid).  Once that part of the meeting was over, I began to distract myself with doodles and general observation.  My eyes dart to the coffee cup which had an advertisement for Capital One Bank.  

See where it looks like my coffee cup is bleeding?

At first it looked harmless, and then I saw what the ad actually was.  They ad displayed pushpins on a map, but the pushpins had brown liquid coming form the hole.  Think about that for a second… yep – it was pretending that my coffee cup had been violently attacked by pushpins and now bled coffee out of those fine holes.  I think it’s disturbing enough they have these ads:

Oh, the humanity...

But to continue with such grosteque imagery.  Perhaps this is because I was raised Catholic, but it was reminiscent of stigmata wounds.  Memo to Capital One – your ads are scary.

JJRC

Struts

Sadly, there is no z to make these things hip.  Struts is an anthropomorphized horse creature… It actually only resembles a horse… that resembles a woman… that resemble as horse (So, if they made a Sarah Jessica Parker horse action figure).  Two months ago, I wrote about how distrubing Bratz Babies are.  It’s bad enough women in this country have a poor self image from magazines and other media, but children aren’t terribly plagued by this… enter Bratz Babies to solve that problem that isn’t a problem in the slightest.

Now, I present this to you: http://www.strutsfashion.com/index.html

Nothing says, “Yes, I am hot” than a blonde horse in high heels and a party dress with seductive eyes… Is there really a market for this?!  Over priviledged girls all over the country will now be begging their parents to stuff their horses’ hoofs into over-stylized pink horse shoe pumps.  After that, they’ll get hair extensions, make-up plastered onto its face and a pretty fluffy cocktail dress…. then it will immediately die due to the harmful affects to not only it’s body but also to it’s self-worth as a horse.

If you ever wondered what Paris Hilton and Bai Ling would look like as horses, here it is…

Disturbing

and 

very disturbing...

Not a pretty sight, is it?  It really makes you wonder what kind of people decided this was a great toy that will appeal to a mass audience…  Also, is their special place in hell the same for the Bratz Babies people?

JJRC

Cool – a poll feature!

Inexplicable Brain Death

I started off the Sunday like many others.  I woke up.  I showered.  I went out and purchased something for breakfast.  I spoke with my mother about random things.  I met up with friends. 

Somewhere after that last thing – I was going to meet up with another friend, and I experienced a brust of idiocy.  For starters I walked in the wrong direction after meeting up with friends.  I walked west when I really wanted to walk east – towards the yellow line.  I made it to the A, and I thought – this will totally drop me off at the Financial District (no, it won’t).  I even read the signs hanging in the platform.  Usually I have to read them over a couple of times before they start to make sense (seriously – it’s written in the most confusing manner) – this time I read it once, and the sign literally said – you want to take this train.

The train approaches West 4th and I hop on.  I wait a few stops before I realize two things 1- I’ve been on this train for some  time 2 – I don’t recognize the street names anymore.  I get off at High Street or something like that and think – wtf….  I have to go to Jay where I take the A back into Manhattan.  I’m a little concerned at this point, and I do not trust myself with the Mass Transit system anymore.  I get off at Delancey Street (first stop the A made in Manhattan).  Meanwhile my friend is waiting for me at his place.

I decide – f*ck this – I’ll walk until I find another train station… which I do.  It’s a meeting place of trains I never take – the J,M,Z,N,R,W,Q and the 6, but I’m too confused to find out where the N/R going south exists.  I run from platform to platform twice.  I even wait on the JMZ platform for a bit.  I tried to read the signs and this time – they do not make sense.  I read the words and I understood them individually, but I could not piece them together in my brain.  The people in the stairwells must have really thought I was on drugs. 

I hope out again and continue walking.  By the time I made it to the 2/3 station at Park Place… mind you – the amount of walking I had done, I should have just walked down to the Financial District without the help of mass transit – I took it 2 stops before I got off – an hour and a half after I said I was coming down.  I had been trolling around New York City – dazed, confused, and stripped of my ability to read and comprehend- for an hour and a half. 

I made it to my friend’s place where I sort of blacked-out/fell asleep.  I also had trouble punching in numbers to the television…. If I ever get like that again, I think I should seek medical attention.

JJRC

School of Rock…

While I was in Cuzco, I did some amazing things. We Sacsayhuamán, the church at Chincheros, markets of hand-made trinkets at Pisaq and climbed to the top of the citadel in Ollantaytambo.  All this will require a post at a later time.  We also saw some television.  Apparently our hotel in Cusco (La Casa de Don Ignacio) was amazing and had satellite television.  After a day of touring ruins and parading around Cusco, we returned to our hotel room where we saw “School of Rock.”  I had the idea that this movie would be bad… and it was amazingly bad.

You’re going to tell me that Jack Black could usurp the identity of a teacher, suspend classes for what appears to be an entire year, make loud music everyday, not provide homework for his class – AT ALL, and not be discovered?  I mean, I’m all about suspending reality (it’s what got me through True Lies), but this is insane.  Plus, these kids wear uniforms.  This isn’t public school – where schools are loud and security is relaxed.  Can I walk into the public school next door and pretend to be a teacher for a bit? Perhaps, but not at the private school!

When the parents realize what’s going (at a Parent Visit Day a while after this clown started as teacher), one blurts out, “How can this happen!? We pay $15,000?!”   $15,000?!  You pay $15K, and your school lets a psycho walk in off the street – who has stolen someone’s identity – to teach your kids.  A simple photo ID check would have stopped this.  The principal even fell in love with Jack Black.  Suspend reality? That’s suspending everything I know in the Universe.  Fuck, let’s suspend gravity while we’re at it.  They should just float around playing in Space.

To top it off, as the credits rolled Jack Black is making all the kids play their instruments.  He tops it off by screeching, “It’s time for my solo!!!!”  Time for his solo?  You mean, that whole movie wasn’t your solo?  He was singing throughout the whole thing. Only in America can this movie be made.

JJRC