Salon published an article yesterday about President Obama’s ongoing attempts to redefine the healthcare industry back in the States. Apparently sensing a potential loss in their staggering profit margins, the healthcare providers and insurance companies back in the States ain’t gonna go quietly:
Obama may have gotten big healthcare industry players to agree to talk about reforms, but now that things are actually moving, they’re not playing along as nicely as the White House hoped they would. “Remember how [healthcare interest groups] all wanted a seat at the table?” one consultant working on the issue said. “Well, now they’re all throwing their food.”
As aptly noted in the article, the U.S. spends more money on healthcare than any nation in the world without much evidence that the quality of the care is any better.
Having lived outside the States for several years now without the ‘benefit’ of American health insurance, I’m starting to get a better grasp on just HOW true this is. And just HOW ridiculously overpriced, ineffective, and at times, simply bizarre, the healthcare industry is back in the States.
I’m had the need to ’sample’ the medical industries in several Asian countries now, including those in purported ‘third-world’ countries — Indonesia, Philippines, Thailand, Sri Lanka, and India.
And while the range of medical procedures I’ve needed while traveling has ranged from a full-fledged operative procedure to simple medical checkups, none of those countries — NONE OF THEM — were so bound up in red tape and exaggerated costs as they are back in the States.
Indeed, even without the luxury of medical insurance for more extensive procedures and treatment (which I pray I never need), the costs for every treatment and drug I’ve needed so far cost pennies on the dollar for what the same thing would have cost back in the States.
Only after you’ve escaped the prison of the American healthcare system does it become crystal clear just how horribly that industry is raping the American public. Through years of unfettered access to Congressional representatives and Presidents, the American healthcare industry has entrenched itself in the American political and financial world so well as to possess the most coveted position of power outside the oil and banking industries.
It’s not a question of partisan politics. It’s a question of power and money. And as we will no doubt witness over the coming months and years, now that these rapists have become so entrenched, they won’t go without a fight. And they won’t go quietly.
Which is a shame, because I was thinking of returning to the States at some point.
As one would imagine, when I head out to the islands (with no electricity and no running water and such), I don’t keep up on the news as much as I might otherwise. Indeed, over the past couple years, I’ve realized that I can gather most of the news I need from the surf report.
Notwithstanding, I HAVE heard about this whole ‘global economic meltdown’ thingy that’s going on. And I heard from several sources — online, televised, written and otherwise — that there may be the stirrings of a genuine economic recovery starting back in the States.
But then I read this uplifting op-ed piece in today’s New York Times, from where the above picture was pilfered. The authors claim:
We are sympathetic to the extraordinary challenge the president faces, but if we’ve learned anything at all two years into the worst financial crisis of our lifetimes, it is that a capital-markets system this dependent on public confidence is a shockingly inadequate foundation upon which to rest our economy.
On the bright side, although one of the authors, Mr. Sandy Lewis, was convicted on federal charges of stock manipulation in 1989, he was pardoned by President Bill Clinton in 2001 and had his lifetime trading ban overturned by the Securities and Exchange Commission in 2006. As such, he can obviously lend his talents towards fixing the current situation.
Umm … perhaps ‘fixing’ wasn’t the bast choice of wording.
Regardless, I’m sure Prez Obama will think ‘outside the box’ to sort this whole mess out. Oh yeah, although he promised to change the whole paradigm in Washington, he IS still just a politician — and a Democrat, at that. Which explains why he ‘handed over his economic policy to worn-out Wall Street gorgons like Larry Summers and Bob Rubin.’
Oh, okay. Well then, there must still be a whole bunch of other people who can still straighten this mess out from the outside-in, right?
I mean, consider Goldman Sachs’ new adviser, Arthur Levitt Jr., the former chairman of the Securities and Exchange Commission. He’s gonna be helpful.
Oh wait, what’s that you say? Levitt helped convince Bill Clinton to make two of the most important bad decisions that led to this financial crisis. So now he’s still around helping to liaise between Goldman Sachs and the government.
Oh … okay. Yeah, I see your point — we’re all still pretty fucked. Okay then, I’m going back to the islands and stick to reading the surf reports.
You never know what is enough, until you know what is more than enough.
~William Blake, Proverbs of Hell
Man, I’d forgotten just how delicious an emotion anger can be.
I’ve been working on managing my anger (and other emotions) through Buddhism, meditation, and yoga ever since I first got to Asia. I’ve been doing it for a variety of reasons — in Asia, it’s culturally unacceptable to get angry in public (i.e., everywhere), it’s generally healthier to focus your anger towards such positive outlets (i.e., yoga, surfing, etc.), and because I’m just generally trying to be a nicer, more mature person (i.e., I’m getting to the age where it’s just unbecoming to be angry).
But as I noted in a recent post, pushing those emotion too far away also has consequences. Like letting TOO many things slide without a fight. Like a failure to acknowledge when someone else has been mean or rude or reckless with you. Like diffusing the emotions so often that it becomes emasculating.
Right now, however, I’m over it. Now? I’m just mad. No, strike that — I’m fucking pissed off.
Man, it’s been a while since I’ve felt this way. And you know what? It feels good. Because it is rage justified. And anger fuels better decisions.
I don’t care if it renders my behavior immature, or surly, or what-the-fuck-ever other judgment call is thrown back at me. It’s unnatural to remain smooth, calm, and unaffected by the frustrations experienced in life. And if there’s no slack — either I’m too soft or I’m too surly — fuck it. it’s nice to be happily pissed off again, if only for an hour or two.
It reminds me of who I am, and that I’m still alive.
Yes, it’s true.
I’ve started looking for work again (and by ‘looking for work’, of course I mean ‘hitting up just about every person I’ve ever met over the course of the past few years for a gig’).
Good lord, I forgot just how daunting a task this is. Really.
In talking to my friends over the past couple years about such things — in Bangkok, the States, and elsewhere — it all sounded so easy getting work. And enjoyable, good paying work, at that.
Yeah, not so much …
Apparently, it turns out there’s some sort of ‘global financial crisis’ or something that’s cropped up over the past year while I’ve been be-boppin’ my way through the inner depths of Southeast Asia. And I guess this may not have really been the best particular time to rejoin the capitalist race.
What makes it worse is, just as when I left my legal career back in the States a few years ago, I still haven’t really narrowed my options very much. I’m interested in doing pretty much anything and everything outside the exact practice of law (with the exception of Federal Pleading Practice … which I greatly enjoyed. which I was best suited, and at which I was really, really good).
However, the problem is now compounded by the fact that, unlike before I left the States, now I’m willing (and hopeful) to take on a position not only back in the States, but also all over Asia, Australia and the whole of the Pacific Rim.
I’m in way, way, WAY over my head at the moment, people.
Fuckin’ hell, things were a whole lot easier before those damn Jedi’s fucked up everything for everyone!
P.S. Oh yeah, as an aside .. remember how I wrote last week about meeting that beautiful girl in Vietnam, and how:
I had an absolute and total blast [traveling] with her … and I regret nothing.
Well, turns out I was wrong. I’ve one regret — I should never have left Bangkok.
I’m sure that, by the time I get to it, this story will already be old news all over the interwebs … but fuck it, it’s still one of the funniest stories to come out in recent months:
An Iraqi reporter set off pandemonium Sunday by hurling two shoes at President Bush during a news conference that was the centerpiece of his secret goodbye visit.
The president successfully ducked both throws. Photos show him with his head down near the top of the podium. The embarrassing incident marred a visit meant to show off the improved conditions since the troop “surge” dramatically reduced casualties to U.S. troops.
“This is a gift from the Iraqis. This is the farewell kiss, you dog,” the journalist shouted (in Arabic), Steven Lee Myers of The New York Times reported in a pool report to the White House press corps.
Myers reported that the man threw the second shoe and added: “This is from the widows, the orphans and those who were killed in Iraq.”
When I first heard about this, I actually thought it was a fake article from the latest series on ‘Bush Mishaps’ in The Onion. But then I saw this video. Gentlemen, start your poetic justice …
Man, you couldn’t make up something this funny! Oh wait, maybe you can.
Ever since I was in law school, every purported boxing fan who knew just enough to get by, but not quite enough to understand the intricacies of the sport have told me that Oscar ‘The Golden Boy’ De La Hoya was their fucking idol. Yeah, what-the-fuck-ever …
Admittedly, De La Hoya has had some skillz. He was well trained from an early age (coming from a longtime fighting family), which eventually translated into an Olympic gold medal and ten world titles in six different weight classes. No small feat.
But more telling than his record is the fact that, as a handsome, clean-cut corporate sweetheart, De La Hoya has generated more money than any other boxer in the history of the sport. And in the ‘incorruptible’ world of professional boxing, this too is no small feat.
Moreover, critics have knocked De La Hoya throughout his entire career for lacking aggression, and his pre-bout antics are quite often more entertaining that the bouts themselves — which often devolve into clinics on ‘lifestyle maintenance.’
While not stating anything overtly about his ‘interesting’ pro record (the Mayweather split-decision and the ABSURD Sturm middleweight WBO title decision among others), and also not discounting his recent victory against a contestant on television’s boxing reality show, ‘The Contender’, I’m baffled as to how De La Hoya STILL manages to be such a HUGE box office (and pay per view) draw.
Because of this oxymoronic nature of De La Hoya’s career, I was pleased — although not shocked — to read about the results of the much heralded December 6th bout between him and Filipino hero, Manny Pacquiao (the TRUE golden boy):
LAS VEGAS (AP) — Manny Pacquiao fought a lot bigger than he looked. Oscar De La Hoya simply looked old. Pacquiao dominated his bigger and more famous opponent from the opening bell Saturday night, giving De La Hoya a beating and closing his left eye before De La Hoya declined to come out of his corner after the eighth round.
De La Hoya’s left eye was closed shut as he sat on his stool after the eighth round and the ring doctor, referee and his cornermen discussed his condition.
The fight was so lopsided and De La Hoya looked so inept that it could spell the end for boxing’s richest and most marketable star.
It’s about fucking time.
Again, admittedly, De La Hoya’s retirement will probably do nothing to change the underlying nature of professional boxing. Nor will De La Hoya cease to get rich off of the de-evolution of the sport (he, together with fellow ex-boxers Bernard Hopkins and Shane Mosley, owns ‘Golden Boy Productions’ — one of the largest combat sport promotional firms in the world). But at least this chapter of his career is over.
Yeah, he may be rich … and I may just be hating … but I gotta tell ya’ — it’s good to know that De La Hoya got the shit beat out of him as he sets off on that long, slow road to the middle.
P.S. Also a good read about the hype vs. reality that professional boxing has become, go read this great piece by Kevin Iole on Yahoo! Sports: “Boxing hype finally reaching the 21st century.”
(Via Failblog.org)
So apparently, the Bushies are at it again, doing the only thing they’ve ever been good at doing — running a false propaganda campaign.
A few days ago, Stephen Hayes of The Weekly Standard discussed what is being dubbed “The Bush Legacy Project”, stating that those involved are “looking at how to sort of roll out the president’s legacy.”
In other words, as Chez put it:
“[T]he revisionists are trying to rewrite history, or at the very least spin it deftly enough so that Bush doesn’t in fact wind up looking like what he is: the worst president this country has ever seen.”
Jeeee-suz! Didn’t these numnuts learn anything from Ronald Reagan’s post-Presidency spin machine? You’re supposed to wait until AFTER you disclose your guy had early onset dementia before you start painting him as the next coming of Christ.
After the dementia press-release. AFTER!!
All these years, I’ve been fighting the whole spamming thing tooth and nail — installing enough pop-up blockers, email spam blockers, and other crap to choke a horse.
But all these prophylactics also tend to block some of my regular email as well, which sometimes necessitates my going through my various spam filters and folders to weed out the spam from the occasional non-spam. Rarely do I take the time to even read the stuff.
I happened to look at a couple of these emails today, however. And I gotta say — some of them are pretty fucking funny! And by funny, I mean stupid. Really, these advertising whores have branched out since their inception. And here I thought they were only advertising penis-pumps and fat pills. Who knew?
So today I’m starting what I hope will become a new tradition — a ‘Fun With Stupid Spam Mail’ feature, where I’ll post these moronic spam-mails verbatim for us to ridicule. So we start out with the following, because practical witchcraft is always a big seller:
Dear [OMITTED],
“Old Witchcraft Secrets” will show you in detail, how you can cast powerful spells, to make your wildest dreams come true.
It’s NOT your fault that your spells and rituals aren’t turning out like you want… Yet.
The truth is… you’ve been misled by self-proclaimed powerful wizards and witches… and the truth is that 99% of these ‘professionals’ are Dead Wrong!
In fact, a lot of what they say will actually diminish your powers.
They don’t want you to know the right way to cast spells because if you did, you’d never need them again and they would lose their power!
You cannot invent ‘new’ spells just like you cannot invent a new tree. Everything is old. But not everything is known in the right way.
Get 3 Spells just for visiting our site [SITE OMITTED]
Old Witchcraft
642 Main Street
Chalestown, Nevis, Saint Kitts Nevis
The problem with this is that there are just so many ways to go:
So it’s not my fault my spells aren’t working? No shit?! And I thought it was just because there’s NO SUCH THING AS MAGIC!
And what’s that, we can’t ‘invent a new tree’? Really? What ever happened to that whole ’seed-planting’ thingy that seems to have been working since, ohh … for-fucking-ever?
And ‘everything is old’, huh? Go tell that one to the Judge at the statutory rape hearing … trust me, I’m a lawyer, I guarantee it’ll work! (‘But Your Honor, this girl quite obviously cannot be under 18 — because everything is old!’)
What does it take to become a ‘professional wizard or witch’? Do they have to go through a minor league first? Is there a draft? Is there quidditch? Can you drop through the pro ranks like in boxing?
Probably the saddest part about this is that they wouldn’t send out this crap if at least SOMEONE didn’t buy their shit. Who knows, it could work — look at Sarah Palin.
As noted a couple posts ago (while I was in Bali en route from Nusa Tenggara back home to Bangkok), I found a plethora of emails waiting for me upon my arrival to the wonderful world of indoor plumbing — some were asking how I’m doing, others were asking for travel advise, and still another was just hatin’ on my blog in general.
I’ll try my best to fully address each of these emails in due time. But I’ll start with the last of them — which I just got from a guy (or girl … or potentially both) named ‘Pat,’ who wrote:
I read your blog from December 13, 2006 in which you discuss morality and responsibility. I find it ironic that your decided to discuss such issues while plagiarizing the work of others.
Your comment that related to occupying moral safe houses was taken practically word for word from the West Wing show – “No one in government takes responsibility for anything any more. We foster, we obfuscate, we rationalize. ‘Everybody does it.’ That’s what we say. So we come to occupy a moral safe house where everyone’s to blame so no one’s guilty.”. Granted you did take out “in government” so maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.
If you decide to write a blog on the subject of hypocrisy, please let me know.
Well Pat, here it is …
Ignoring the fact that you’re getting worked up about what some ex-pat surf-bum is spewing out on his BLOG, … on the INTERNET — you’re absolutely right … I ‘borrowed extensively’ (okay, ’stole’) from a West Wing transcript.
Big fucking deal.
I’ve no secrets here — I’ve admitted that I steal from the West Wing — and many other sources — on a regular basis. Fuck, if you haven’t noticed, most of my post titles come from song titles. But c’mon, kid, unless you were on the writing staff, getting worked up about my failure to specifically cite back to a now-defunct television series is just silly.
And d’ya wanna see something else? I’ll do it again … right now:
Quoting verbatim from the same T.V. show, Aaron Sorkin wrote that: “Good writers borrow, and great writers steal.” (it bears noting this particular quote is one which Sorkin himself stole — from T.S. Elliot.)
Admittedly, you’re also correct about the context of the original quote, and that by now equating myself with others who do the same thing, this quote is itself … it’s, well … yeah, it’s pretty hypocritical. But I think you’re missing Elliot’s (and Sorkin’s … and my) point.
It’s the sign of a good writer (or, in Elliott’s opinion, a great one) to recognize that, when trying to aptly communicate your thoughts, someone else has already written what you’re thinking (albeit, in my case, in another context) … far, far better than you could ever do. And I would fail to do justice to anyone reading my dribble NOT to use such rhetoric.
This is a philosophical issue, I think. Truly, is there ANYTHING we’ve access to — in literature, technology, or otherwise — that hasn’t already been thought of, described, or built by someone else? Everything we’ve got, our entire culture is based on the prior accomplishments of others.
So, in this case, I forgot to cite. Again, it’s just a blog — get a grip. Regardless, thanks for writing, and I hope you keep reading — I need someone to keep me on my toes.
I’m still here in Sumatra – having a great time, which is good since I may wind up being STUCK here because …
I can’t get any of my fucking money!!!
Before I left, I arranged to get my funds out of a savings account I opened with AMTRUST DIRECT. Great, right?
Wrong!!! It’s been over a month and the motherfuckers STILL won’t give me my goddamn MONEY!!!!
With all my free time, I’m in the process of filing a formal complaint with the Office of Thrift Supervision against this bank and would love to use any other current complaints in showing the issues inherent with this bank.
The motto of this bank appears to be to keep the funds in tow at all costs. In other words: Keep away online account access from consumers, charge consumer’s service fees for anything they can and then make up an excuse as to the reason for it, or keep away interest payments from consumers or keep funds in tow with holds that are GENERATED by the bank themselves intentionally.
I am trying to compile information to determine if there is criminal neglect and or fraud going on with this bank. I have spoken to multiple people over at the bank including a supervisor and the answers were not satisfactory. I believe a formal inquiry into this bank needs to be made by the OTS for the ONLINE DIVISION.
So now I;m in the process of documenting all the MANY issues I’ve had with the bank — apparently I’m only one of legion — and I’ve gotta email the full complaint including my personal identifying information to consumer.complaint@ots.treas.gov.
For anyone else interested, you can also contact the OCC at:
Northeast Region
Consumer Affairs
Harborside Financial Center Plaza Five
Suite 1600
Jersey City, NJ 07311
(800) 253-2181
(201) 413-7541 (Fax)
(Connecticut, Delaware, Maine, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, New Jersey, New York, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, Vermont, West Virginia)
Mutha-fuckas!!! How ya’ like me now?
There’s an interesting subtext — a conundrum — underlying this whole ‘blogging’ business.
For me, blogging began as an attempt to capitalize on my interest in the Internet (read: ‘computer geek’) — through the use of online advertising and retail. That idea went the way of the dodo when I made the decision to abandon the capitalistic American existence for a few years, in favor of a more simplistic life in the tropics of Southeast Asia.
At that point, blogging essentially morphed into nothing more than an easy way to memorialize my trip — physically and emotionally — and maybe make available some information about the places I’m visiting, mainly for myself, my friends and family, and anyone else with an Internet connection and a shit-load of free time on their hands.
Unknowingly (and unintentionally), this blog has also become useful in another way. When meeting people abroad, rather than handling out my phone number, email address, or other typical contact information, it’s infinitely easier to write or tell people to look up my website.
In my case, I’m not sure if they feel it’s an accurate description of me (the most likely scenario) or what, but the name of this blog tends to stick in peoples heads like a dull butter knife.
This is obviously a good thing. It’s easily allowed me to maintain contact with people I’ve met from all around the globe (most of them Swedish, for some god-forsaken reason). However, it also allows a greater, albeit not complete, view of my persona to people who may not otherwise get an unfettered glimpse of my full persona until later on into a friendship.
It is for that reason more than any other that I’ve changed how I write this blog.
Before I revealed my true identity (yes, I am a fuckin’ superhero – so shaddap) and started using this site as my own ‘Universal Business Card’ (“Call me!”), I tended to write bitter and scathing posts about politics, pop culture, celebrities, and a number of other divisive issues.
But I’ve since tried to tone down the content of this blog, so as not to offend any of the people I’ve met, or may meet, either with different views than mine or otherwise infected by the ‘politically correctness’ dictating the terms of conversations with people from the States and Europe.
Indeed, I’ve already had one acquaintance ask me, upon reading this site, why I hated India (and Indians) so much. After pointing out the dirty hippy’s and the innumerable burning trash heaps, as well as the debilitating viral infection I picked up there, I found myself apologizing (and feeling guilty for appearing as yet another Eurocentric racist). The same goes for many other issues, as well — even music.
In trying to tone down my vacuously sardonic sense of humour (admittedly, a humour that quickly wears thin and most persons with an IQ greater than 70 don’t understand to begin with), I’ve wound up unintentionally offending, and being overly-apologetic towards, more people than I otherwise would, because I’ve unknowingly disregarded their political sensitivities — both online and in the real world.
Who knows, maybe I’ve just been hanging out with too many Ozzies. Whatever.
While talking the other night with a friend (coincidentally, yet another Swede — I swear, they’re everywhere), we got to the whole topic of maintaining a blog. Somewhere during the course of the conversation, I remembered how the word ‘blog’ is the shortened version of the term ‘web log’ — as in a personal log … about your personal ideas, experiences, and relations.
In that regard, unless they’re selling something (ahem), if someone feels comfortable enough to post all their personal shit online anyway, what’s the point in censoring material to possibly placate the sensibilities of people who won’t understand the verse, or the underlying motivations. Admittedly, we do not live in a vacuum, and it’s simply good manners not to knowingly offend people — ‘do unto others’ and all that.
I agree with that sentiment entirely, and I sincerely try to live my life in that manner. But there are limits — especially in the context of writing your personal thoughts vis a vis a semi-private forum on the Internet.
With that said, I will say this one more time for anyone paying attention — I’ve got some fucked up personal views, I live a different kind of life than most, and I have some brash and (often times unfunny) humour. I know I’m not a racist, a misogynist, or an evil vapid soul (most nobody is, really). But I will apologize up front if anything I say may come across as offensive or insensitive.
I’m writing this shit for me as much as for you. So I will write how, when, and about, whatever-the-fuck I want. Just as I really don’t know you, you really can’t know me simply by reading the stupid, random shit I may throw up on some website from time to time.
I know I’ve raised this issue before in the past, whenever I lose track of why I’m even writing this shit. But once again, it’s my fucking website, and I thought it was about time for another reminder.
P.S. This is the maid speaking.
With the exception of a few well place ‘Frenchies’ here and there, I’ve never been particularly fond of the French to begin with.
Admittedly, I was never one of those rabid folks (i.e., dumbass Americans) who started referring to my french fries as ‘freedom fries’. However, I always found the air of superiority wafted out by the majority of the French — together with a considerable amount of body odor, as well — more than just a bit distasteful.
If it weren’t for their considerable history of promptly surrendering to any (and all) of their neighboring countries on the continent, perhaps that attitute may be justified. As it is, however, I have more respect for the guys working the late shift at the local 7-11. Until I meet a thousand more guys like these two great blokes in the Philippines, my opinion stands. Sorry.
That opinion now seems even more justified after the run in (pun intended) I had yesterday with 3 of the biggest kooks — all French — that I’ve ever met in my life. Three Frenchies were out in the water yesterday hooting and hollaring (perhaps they were trying to surrender to the Sri Lankans), and just getting in everyone’s way.
One of them sat right in front of me while I was up on a really nice wave, looking me in the eyes and doing nothin else to move or otherwise allow me to maintain my position on the wave. I had to ditch.
Another dropped in on me while I was up on waves, not once, not twice, but three times in only a 1 hour session. Fucker.
The third of the group (part ‘trois’ if you’re counting in French, which I doubt, because if you’re French, chances are you’re off looking for someone to surrender to) ran right into me while I was in the whitewater paddling away from him so he could ride his wave in peace. But instead of riding the wave, he turned right towards me before realizing there was something in his way. Upon reaching that conclusion, he ditched his board, kicking it right at my head (perhaps he thought it the best way to surrender). I moved just in time for it to hit me square in my right calf, which is now sporting a huge muscle bruise.
No apologies, no nothing. He just paddled back out. Nice. Three more reasons for me to go out for some ‘freedom fries.’
Post script: My foot is now pretty well healed up, with the exception of the 1 or 2 remaining smaller spikes that are now poppin out randoming like zits on the face of a rabid Hannah Montana fan. Thanks to all for the concern (read: horror).
And in response to Jayne’s crazy question as to what body part I will injure next for my rapt (read: cold and bored) audience, I now have both an answer and a reason why: my right calf, and because some French kook with a surfboard ran into me out in the surf.
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