Sometimes life gets so real that you can’t turn the volume down. Every once in a while it pops off, eyes of a child. Wild. Style. Wreck shop. Nobody want none, playboy. Fake funk freakers everywhere I look. Shook? Not me. See the realness represented. Life comes quickly at the speed of light. Fright night rhymes or a Luis Suarez bite. World Cup Football. Can’t fake the realness. Mental illness abounds. Soft suckaz catch feelings. Drown my sorrows in a cup. Erupt with the quickness. Mt. St. Helen’s in this bitch. Forgive my simplistic rhymes. The chimes ring. Bells toll. Flute toots. Sax blows. I could go on and on. Sick with this gift, but I’d rather cut things short. Preserve the mystery, otherwise the funds come up, shorty. Catch myself sittin in the gutter. No dreams, no ends, sippin’ a 40. The beats on repeat. Y’all know my lyrics is endless. Spend thrift euphemisms day in an day out. Come correct with my flows. Never look for easy ways out.
I have been enjoying the hell out of the World Cup so far. I don’t even have a cable subscription, but have managed to catch a few games on ABC or at the pub. ESPN Radio has been a savior because I can listen to the play-by-play of every single match for free if I wish.
My dilemma has been the guilt I feel for enjoying the event so very much. Like the well-informed denizen of the 1st World and lapsed Catholic that I am, it obviously follows that my personal sense of guilt is robust and pervasive.
I am aware of the ultimate purpose of professional sport and events such as these to enrich the already obscenely wealthy and distract the masses. “Are you not entertained?”
I know full well the current plight of the Brazilian Poor and of the boondoggles such as the newly constructed arenas, one even being constructed in the middle of the Amazon Rain Forest without a large population to fill it beyond the World Cup and possibly the Summer Olympics in ’16. Or how about the destruction of a thriving Favela in downtown Rio to put in a parking lot that never ended up being constructed?
I make a conscious effort to lead a life of goodness that includes not supporting in any way things that harm the poor, but I love futbol and find my self irresistibly drawn to the spectacle of the World Cup.
Looks like my guilt will be sticking around until late July…
Please, please, please dearest God, Allah, Jah, Buddah, Krisna, Vishnu, Yahweh, Nostradamus, Satan, Raptor Jesus, Kanye West…WHOEVER – do not let the United States of America authorize and execute drone strikes in Iraq.
We have done enough damage to that poor country. Let us send humanitarian aid and no more. Any three ways you slice it, if my country sends drones I am not paying my federal income taxes next year.
I will not tacitly support war crimes any longer. It is as simple as that.
Read this now. The above is a succinct and chilling look at where we have come from, where we are now, and where we are headed if things do not change. I look it at this way. If you know better yet do nothing, you are morally culpable. There are certainly degrees to the extent each and everyone of us is able to “do something.” All I am able to do is spread the word, consume locally and to a lesser degree, and raise my children as best I know how. Some people may be in a position to take to the streets. Others may be in a position to use financial leverage. All that matters is that we do not sit idly and watch the destruction of our planet and species as if it were a big budget disaster film where the events are happening to someone else.
Good Afternoon, amigos y amigas. I was sitting down to read and enjoy a tasty libation this afternoon and while looking at my bookmarks I noticed WordPress Dashboard and that I have a blog. More importantly, I remembered that this blog is called PINTS and Protest…and it has been far too long since I mentioned pints.
Now, any good beer snob will tell you at length of the greatness that is Russian River Brewing’s Pliny the Elder Imperial IPA. It is something of a Holy Grail amongst those in the know.
As a self-proclaimed IPA aficionado, it is nearly criminal that it has taken me this long to quaff the legendary brew.
Both tastings this weekend were with a cleansed palate and an open mind. Seeing that it took me so long to finally wet my whistle, I feel confident that I did not go into this experience in danger of falling victim to the curse of the “Over-Hype”. I even had one yesterday and one today to make sure I wasn’t hastily jumping to conclusions.
All of this having been said. It was good. I gave it a 4.5 out of 5 stars on Untappd. I enjoyed the experience of trying a new to me, highly sought after beer. However, it was not the upper echelon IPA that most make it out to be. I would call it the Ruth’s Chris of IPAs. Decent, but not top shelf. Vortex IPA by Fort George comes to mind as an easily superior example of the craft and it is not even a true Imperial IPA. Hell, Ruination is a better Imperial in my opinion. Nothing against Stone Brewing by the way.
At first I thought it may have been over-hyped, but the more I ponder, the more I am convinced that the previous scarcity of the brew is the main contributor to its notoriety. Now that it is somewhat easier to obtain (I found it by asking my local market’s beer guy if he had any hiding in the back), I believe its reputation will self-correct to a more realistic level.
Boy howdy, do I suck at regularly blogging as of late. I just took a look at my dashboard and realized that my last post was far too many days ago.
Sometimes it is fun to play the blame game so I am going to list in no particular order all of the things that have prevented me from putting some worthwhile words to the digital ink.
1) Hangovers. Did you know that if you don’t drink enough water after having several alcoholic beverages that it causes you to feel like ran over shit the next morning? (Full Disclosure – Having known this apparently does not always translate into doing it.)
2) Crossfit. Did you know that extreme muscle soreness and dried sweat make you 99.9% less likely to want to write? (Full Disclosure – I have not properly researched the above percentage.)
3) Work. Did you know that when acclimating yourself to a knew position it is mentally draining to an almost debilitating degree? (Full Disclosure – I’m sure almost everyone knows this, but I wanted to use it as an excuse so here we are.)
4) Parenting. No explanation or disclosure needed.
5) All the rest of the mostly mundane day to day shit we do. Did you know that being a responsible adult, keeping a home, and feeding your family properly take up a fuck ton of time? (Full Disclosure – All in all I am damned thankful to be where I am right at this moment and I hope you are too. If you’re not, take the steps to get yourself there. It is terrible hard work, but living right and doing right are their own rewards and if it makes your life better in the future it will have been worth the struggle.)