To Write

The steady percussion of the rain mellows me. The enveloping darkness of the room draws me to the glow of the screen. The keyboard taunts me like a snot-nosed kid with his tongue out, and his thumbs in his ears—shaking his hands at me. I have this need to let it all out but I can't control it. At best, I can ride it like a wild horse never to be tamed. In some instances I feel pain to let it out, but most of the time it's an urge not unlike passion for a lover. I don't know what to do but let the words exist, and see what happens.

"The Pages are still blank but there is a miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink and clamoring to become visible." Vladimir Nabokov

The Peppers Gamble

The unremarkable chapter of Julius Peppers career comes to an end in Carolina. He came in with huge expectations. Probably the most athletically gifted player on the team his entire career. He failed to truly deliver on those gifts. He was to the defensive line, what Michael Vick was to quarterbacking. He was faster than most running backs. He was larger than any skilled player, but as big and powerful as the linemen. He has been blessed with good health for the majority of his professional career, yet has faded away in many games as if he were injured
It’s a shame that Chicago paid him so much to join their team. Mediocrity shouldn’t be rewarded anything, and definitely not millions of dollars a year.
I get the risky move by Chicago. Teams have made similar moves in the past in hopes of improving their teams. According to what’s on paper, Peppers looks like a safe bet. Not unlike the same move the Panthers made when they drafted him with a reputation for disappearing in big games. The fans will be woefully disappointed. It comes down to heart. He lacks the ferociousness needed to be a great defensive player. Especially on the defensive line where it’s more about tenacity than anything else. He doesn’t come across as a mental giant, just a gentle one. So it won’t be his strategy and mental agility that will give him the edge. He has only one thing to rely on, and that’s his athletic gifts. So if the right coach, can find the model of motivation to ignite the passion in this million-dollar baby, then the bet will pay off. My bet is that he will rise and fall, just like he has done before. I do wish him the best of luck.

My Sh$@$ F$@$%! Up

As the forces for and against healthcare come to a head Thursday I wanted to mention a few things that have haunted me the past few weeks.
I believe that the conversation has become a yelling match built on lies, mistruths, misinformation, and red herring. The centerpiece of the president’s agenda has been healthcare insurance reform. That much is clear. It was muffed from the start, and became a target for opponents of the president to attach all of the criticisms and frustration with government to a bill that shouldn’t have been a surprise to anyone. The only things the president has said he would do and hasn’t are left-centered issues like Guantanamo, war-criminal trials, and the mass exodus of lobbyist from DC, etc. Health Insurance reform was not a flip-flop issue, and the president didn’t engage in smoke and mirrors to sneak it in.
In the coming years political science classes will study this time in history, and in particular how an administration who so masterfully executed a campaign strategy that resulted in the White House could stumble through something so important to the success of their boss. Granted, Barack Obama didn’t take office with any delusions of harmony in congress and serenity in the senate. He has had to traverse a mine field and has had to do this under unprecedented bickering and partisanship from almost everyone in Washington. He has handled this, for the most part, with grace under fire. Far from a flawless first year, he has been as- billed with his trademark composure.
The editorial portion of News’ Corp’s Fox News broadcasts (some would argue all of it), and the many conservative talk radio hosts have done what Rush Limbaugh has called for, as artfully as the Obama team was able to raise money leading into the election. They took all of the discontent with government and the economy and made it his doing. They have swayed public sentiment against one of the most popular incoming presidents ever, and tagged the Bush Administration’s TARP and bank bailout to the presidents resume’. Yes, he did vote for it as a senator—as did many of his republican peers and his presidential competitor John McCain did in 2008. Now it’s his, and they were against it. So any policy change dealing with economic reform other than tax cuts, amongst the bailouts of private-sector entities such as General Motors and Chrysler has become un-American and a political hand grenade. He has become the furor, naturally. They forget that they were for the bank bailouts (socialism). The depth of the recession now and what it could’ve been are unclear to most of us and too complex to wade through the muddy water of disparate opinions to provide us any real understanding now or maybe ever. What most knew at the time was action was needed, and inaction would have been unacceptable. Conservatives ac t as if the American economy and the sacred cow of capitalism would self-select the weak and we would’ve come out stronger if we just had given far-reaching tax cuts to save the big companies that exploited the American consumer for too long. Barack got what he wanted, and now it’s his in success or failure. I’m sure behind closed doors many conservatives are thanking their luck stars that John McCain didn’t win. To be president now seems like a fool’s errand and futile endeavor. I’m no genius or intellectual heavy weight. But I’ve always been pretty good at sniffing out bullshit. I don’t have a credo or rule-of-thumb like “follow-the-money” to rely on or employ in most cases, however, it is instinctual. It doesn’t take a psychologist to know that those in power want it, and will do what it takes to get it. Those in power will do the same to preserve it. If the Obama administration doesn’t get healthcare, they will fail at the very cornerstone of the president’s agenda. Potentially being as devastating as a loss in Iraq would’ve been for George W Bush. Or as South Carolina senator Jim Demint said, “If we’re able to stop Obama on this it will be his Waterloo. It will break him.”
One of the statistics most commonly quoted by left wing pundits such as Keith Olbermann, and Alan Colmes is that individually the components of the healthcare bill are overwhelmingly favorable to the American voters. So if you pay that any credence (which by default half of you won’t) it goes to show that it’s the ineptitude of the Democratic leadership, and that’s Obama because of his hands-off approach all last year other than being a outspoken proponent, has been remiss and incompetent in outlining it to the public. They have become huge targets for criticism on the size of the bill, and have fed into the anti-government sentiment by many Americans about elitist and self-centered representation in Washington. The rightwing echo chamber has been ruthless in creating disinformation and fear around aspects of the bill and what ifs. They have taken a president’s hope to bring healthcare to more Americans and reduce the deficit as a socialist ideologues conspiracy to take healthcare from old people and give it to the homeless and illegal immigrants. No matter how clearly stated, and underlined by the president there is nothing he can do to sway many Americans that he is not the ant-Christ and a communist Manchurian candidate. And Rush Limbaugh and his peers love it. Mission Accomplished.
If he fails in getting this passed-we all will lose. I’m not for a massive public option right now. I’m fearful not because I believe that it is the beginning of rationing and “socialized/third-world medicine”. I’m more concerned about the deficit and stabilizing of the economy both in markets such as real-estate, and lending and job creation. I hope that cooler heads can prevail, and the true ideologue’s voices will be drowned out by the rational thinkers in congress. We need policy to remove the clause that discriminates and exploits those that have pre-existing conditions or cataclysmic traumas that bankrupt Americans. American misfortunes and accidents shouldn’t become business opportunities. The real death-panels, the arm of the insurance companies that deny coverage and have quotas to make by looking for mistakes and red flags in the medical histories are un-American. The illegal immigrants that are exploited by businesses and corporate America draw them in, and deny them the rights given to their other employees because they are cheaper and compromised, and force them to go to the emergency rooms for primary care. The inflated expense of healthcare in America is the very origin of any trial or expensive lawsuit supposedly devastating healthcare costs for all of the rest of us, if healthcare was available to all of us wouldn’t that mitigate the problem to just wrongful/or negligence trials which we should have the option to do if the corporations don’t run their businesses safely for their workers or malpractice?
These egregious cracks in our system are what need to be addressed. It shouldn’t be a political issue like so many other more controversial topics. But it has become a huge, slobbery, gelatinous spitball so far from the gravity of reality it seems impossible to reel it back in and affect positive change for all Americans. Somehow healthcare for all Americans has become less noble of a cause as war for oil, or tax cuts. Then it becomes something else altogether, alter the conversation beyond recognition. To evade the question, is it patriotic to let an innocent American bleed? Or an innocent human being bleed for that matter? Should healthcare only be made available to those that work full-time, or have wealthy parents? This question gets answered everyday no matter how we answer it in hypothetical land. Hopefully, we never will have to answer it for ourselves.

“Well, I went to the doctor
I said, "i'm feeling kind of rough..."
"Let me break it to you son,
you're shit's fucked up!"
I said, "My shit's fucked up?!
Well, I don't see how!"
He said, "The shit that used to work,
won't work now!"
Warren Zevon

It’s Easier to See what everyone else sees

    Life isn't simple. When you're a toddler maybe, but that's where it stops. They're so many questions with so little answers. Yet people speak in absolutes. They use faith, or God's will to answer the questions that have no answer, or a discernable one that is.

    It makes me wonder where people attribute this philosophy of rigidity towards other ideas. Then instead of discuss root-causes the conversation is derailed and engaged in hypothetical's and ad hominem attacks versus substantive debate. Take the political conversation around healthcare reform. The opponents are trying to keep the proponents juggling as many balls (no matter how absurd) as possible versus progressing towards a goal. No matter what happens, if the American people win or lose in this debate, the reformers will be crucified for either what they legislated or what they were unable to legislate.

    Ideological meandering hinders so much of what makes real sense for people. For instance, sex education in the schools and the supplying of birth control. It is the parent's responsibility, but parents are failing miserably. So why exacerbate teenage pregnancy and rampant sexually transmitted diseases, and abortion rates with hope for the better? The world is more dangerous than it was in the 50's.

    The one that really baffles me is the idea that man is so selfless that he will take profit and divvy it up to the ones that he profited on or with. A nice ideal to be uphold, yet, it essentially is turning American capitalism into a giant pyramid scheme. . One that has clearly been disproved since the dawn of time. Once it was decided by the powers-that-be that the restraints should be taken off companies, and they should be allowed to move labor and exploit poorer countries to turn larger margins. The American blue collar worker was put on the extinction list. Just the like the countries that are being exploited. What happens when there are no more consumers? Labor forces were relocated to jobs based on an American culture of excessive consumerism which was unsustainable from the beginning. Blue-collar families held on to their proud work ethic, and either eschewed higher education or didn't have the means to get there. This subsequently, caused the spawning of children that have grown up in a trade right after potty training until it was no longer available. These proud, "All American" families are unable to navigate the 21^st century when the housing market has dried up and the shopping centers become ghost towns. They were encouraged to buy, buy, buy even when they didn't have it—just to keep up with the Joneses. Yet the top-earners in this country become the patron saints of the American economy, the ones that lived the American dream—why should they be penalized? I guess it's how you look at it. . . To save the American economy is to reinvest in America, whether by charitable donation or by paying a larger tax. Education, health care, affordable living, and safer streets are a noble bill to pay. It's not about something for nothing, it's about patriotism. Despite what's being said, it's not the first step in a journey toward communism. It's the first step in rebuilding this country.

    There will always be those that take advantage, and look for the path of least resistance. It's survival instinct whether at its earliest stage or final. They will make choices that are detrimental to their being, that are shortsighted. What keeps them going is hope. They believe that one day one of those lottery tickets will pay off. They find happiness in the small things. The Fat Cats at the top encouraged this superfluous accumulation of things unneeded. Yeah, people should take responsibility of their choices. The greed at the bottom is no worse than the greed at the top, and less egregious.

 

    The American way was not meant to be one of welfare nor was it meant to be everyone for themselves. History has proven that we can't live in a modern day Babylon where money has become the ultimate pleasure. That's plain un-American

The Ballad of Jake and Foxxy

This time last year the Carolina Panthers entered the post season with all the hope in the world. They had one of the best records in the league. One of the most potent running attacks in the game. With little or no debate, the best receiver in the game-- Steve Smith. The team also had a vaunted defense with a rising star at linebacker John Beason and an All-Pro defensive-end Julius "the Big Lazy" Peppers who was surrounded by a decent supporting cast. It felt good to be a fan. For most fans that season felt as good as any of their previous seasons, at least at this point. It felt like we had a decent chance to win it all.

Then the bottom fell out. Their once "swashbuckling" quarterback Jake Delhomme had cruised through the season of weak opponents, and behind his dynamic backfield teammates. He had won over the fans with his devil-may-care attitude, and ability to make the big play throwing off the back of his feet in the most uncomfortable of situations. In their Super Bowl run in 2003 he threw so many cringe-worthy heaves that were miraculously caught he had garnered the support of the Panther nation, and won over many doubters as the clear-cut leader of the then "Cardiac Cats".

Back to the whole bottom fell out, Jake's niche and calling card soon became the Panther's Achilles' Heel. His cringe-worthy passes gravitated down from the heavens, eschewed any miracle, and landed usually in the hands of the other team's player. Jake hadn't returned to form, a form that was in question by many before his injury and subsequent elbow surgery, since in my opinion 2003. His style was reckless from the beginning. He was Brett Favre, minus the arm. Jake was the fun loving, team-oriented, "character" guy. One that happened into a situation where he was surrounded by some of the league's best talent, and by an organization in which the leadership was loyal—to a fault. That season crumbled before our eyes in a game where the Panthers were favored to win by more than one touchdown. It was hard to watch. Then the Panther's Head Coach John Fox decided to let Jake destroy his confidence and his team's confidence play after play as the clock wound down. If it was a prize fight, the referee would have called it early in the third quarter.

The Panthers had suffered a devastating loss to the Arizona Cardinals, who went on to lose the Superbowl to the New York Giants. They moped into the locker room that night, and stumbled into the offseason with a lot of big questions to answer. One of which, do we still feel confident in Jake as our quarterback? The entire team, from the top to the bottom, came out rank and file to say yes. It wasn't recommended they cut the guy, but what happened next abandons all logic and reason. They re-signed him to a long-term contract with over twenty-million in guaranteed money. A clear, unambiguous YES. They were putting the proverbial eggs into the singular basket. John Fox and the general manager Marty Hurney hooked their caboose to the Delhomme express, destination of pass-unknown, and did it unabashedly.

Amongst other key questions, to sign or not-to-sign Julius Peppers? The panthers played it safe and signed him to a one-year "Franchise" agreement. A salary-cap- gorging annual salary that taps any latitude the team hoped to have entering the off-season and draft to sign other talent. The strategy was pretty much stay- the- course, with the exception of a change of Defensive-Coordinator to Ron Meeks of the Indianapolis Colts when his predecessor stepped down. Status-quo it was, and the hopes of another Divisional Championship.

Here we are, the NFL playoffs. With one exception to last year, no Carolina Panthers. The naysayers were right, and not to the greater good. The season looked to be the last for John Fox, and rumors swirled of a change in leadership. He was resolved not to change horse midstream despite a losing record, until fate stepped in and he had to. Jake got hurt, and was able to bow out gracefully on what was the worst season he had ever had in a NFL uniform. The one guy that everyone wanted to see get a shot, the man that stepped in and played admirably for Jake two season ago sat quietly at the end of the bench. He was without guile or agenda, he stepped in when asked. The team salvaged an eight and eight season with wins in their last few games. The one man that Fox didn't have the confidence in became his saving grace. Matt Moore saved John Fox's panther career and saved the organization's face with a .500 record.

Now the Panthers are at a similar juncture, with some similar questions to answer. Beyond the blunder of resigning Jake to the monster contract last year, the team is able to free up a lot of salary cap space by changing the answers from last season. As Bank-of-America stadium sits quietly in repose, the fans demand action. Even though there are questions surrounding John Fox's destiny with the team it doesn't seem that he will be leaving with his fateful late season turnaround. Peppers grievances from last year are going to be the same because nothing has changed. He is coming off a dubious pro-bowl nomination from a lackluster year, but with that comes leverage. To "franchise" him again would place the panthers in even worse salary-cap territory. They have some younger, more productive players to address now before it gets too late and they lose them like they have done in the past. They have some older players that are going to want to get a ring while they still have a chance and can contribute, that are going to get anxious especially without a strategy change. They have a young quarterback that has an agent foaming at his mouth and anxious to renegotiate his deal after his late season heroics. All of this is going to unfold in front of us, while great coaches that are available are signing elsewhere. Teams whom are still playing right now will have an opportunity to get better next season, and build on an already fruitful season. Meanwhile, here in Carolina, the panthers will attempt to repeat mediocrity in motion.

It's hard to be a Panthers fan. They have done a decent job of collecting talent over the years, in fact some great talent. But the ballad of Jake and Foxxy will go on until Richardson decides to break in and make a change. We, get to watch the playoffs and pull for another team without ardor and with indifference. Thanks for that, by the way—more reason to DVR-it.

 

"You can't see tomorrow with yesterday's eyes"

Ryan Adams

 

"Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results."

Albert Einstein

 

"Jakes still our guy."

John Fox

Dexter Morgan, the most compelling character in television history

Dexter Morgan is a serial killer. Some other truths; what goes up must come down, there is a grey area, and there is evil in the world. Dexter Morgan isn't evil.

    Ernest Hemingway said, "All things truly wicked start from innocence." Dexter suffered a devastating tragedy as a young boy, one that has been seared into his memory or more so his entire being. Dexter was born like every other person, but his dark passenger--Dexter the serial killer, was born in blood.

    The first time I heard about the show I didn't know what to think. The story seems almost grotesque in a way. I was intrigued to at least give it a chance. So I watched Season 1 On-demand. I have never been more hooked to a show then Dexter. I actually watched the entire first season in back-to- back sequence (the way to watch anything by the way). It was excruciating to watch season 2 and wait week to week. Each subsequent season has been a weekly trial in patience but it has reestablished Sunday night television for me since the departure of the Sopranos.

    The story of Dexter is a complex, and a dark dreamscape seen through a hazy glow and muted fluorescents of Miami. Each episode is serenaded with lively, Latin rhythms. The Miami culture is as much a character as Dexter himself. There's a real sense of Cuban and Latin culture in the show, which makes it distinct from other Miami based shows. It seems more authentic. Dexter somehow fits in, he's as mundane as a passing palm tree, and as ordinary as a rain shower in the Florida afternoon. With that, we are under his spell, his plan. That is part of his modus operandi. His code. . . Never get caught. Stay in the shadows. Be patient. Don't risk it with a high profile kill. . . "Never . . . Ever. . . Kids. . . I have standards," Dexter said to a soon-to-be-victim. Satisfying the code is Dexter's sovereign oath. The code is what Dexter has lived by since he was a reborn. It was taught to him by his adopted father to endure. When he was a kid his foster father, Harry Morgan, discovered his son's eerie predilection. The neighborhood's pets were missing, and it didn't take long for detective Harry Morgan to solve the mystery. His love and knowledge of Dexter's tragic beginnings compelled him to find a way for Dexter to channel his urges in more productive ways. It started with wild game hunting. This expression would only last for so long, and Harry knows this. What was the next step?

    Harry was able to look into the soul of a killer, one that he loved and raised like his own son. Harry's life in law enforcement had exposed him to injustices in which he was powerless to do anything. The solution wasn't obvious, but it became the next step. Dexter would finish what the stumbling and sometimes foolish court system couldn't. He became a vigilante of sorts. With the code guiding him, his murderer's intuition leading him to the right people, and his training supporting his so called hobby he became Dexter the Diabolical. Dexter the Devious. Dexter the Deviant.

    We all cheer when we see the muscle bound hero, or the cunning action star blow away the bad guy. Why it is different to see them get cut up? It just is right? I don't know about you, but as the show goes I kind of wish there was a Dexter Morgan out there. In a culture where we all applaud the vigilantes and heroes, whether it's Dirty Harry or Batman, the only realistic hero would be the anti-hero—Dexter Morgan.

    He endears us with his wit, and inner-narrative as he tells his side of the story. If he was caught there would be a firestorm of controversy about capital punishment, and eye-for-an-eye. Political fodder for the editorials. He would be a hero to many and a villain to the balance. That's what makes him such a compelling protagonist. The most innovative and complex lead in television history.

    The show begins with a glimpse in the life of Dexter Morgan, forensics and blood specialist for the Miami-Dade Police Department. The show doesn't take long to introduce you to the Dark Passenger as he confronts a pedophile/and child murderer. I, like everyone, are disgusted by the very thought of children being assaulted and murdered. This first experience with the Dark Passenger for us, the killing of a child murderer, didn't make it seem so bad. Once you get past the ritualistic nature of the act, Dexter eases his way into your curiosity the same way he slides in and out of the homicide department without causing an ounce of suspicion. As the season goes on he is put through tests of character, emotion, and of the very code that defines him. Each shadowy corner lays profound drama that will grip you and not let go.

    Subsequent seasons dive deeper into the peripheral characters. Like his girlfriend Rita, and her kids Cody and Astor. His foul-mouthed, sister Deb and the rest of his colleagues at the police department. Each one the relationship with Dexter evolves as the show goes on. He keeps them all at arm's-length, per the code, but the depth of the show and surprisingly to both us and Dexter himself is his own personal depth. As he learns more about himself, and his history he grows into his human skin leaving us to wonder if he will ever shed the dark passenger. That's the question that all of us fans ask, and draws us in every week.

     As the story continues-- he will be challenged to violate the code. His father only saw one layer of Dexter, and didn't trust the other to be able to live in the real world without a rigid set of rules to protect him. While watching, you want to believe that he can be a husband and father. We hope that Harry, and initially Dexter is wrong about his depths. Yet, the very greatness of the show is that Harry has to be right. The deviations from the code are what expose him to the world, for who he really is—and the world is not ready for a "good" serial killer. We accept murder when it's in the name of God and country, but can we accept what Dexter does? The genius is that it stirs up all these emotions, and creates a visceral response in each of us that is a powerful exercise in introspection.

    The show deals with the grey area that is so often rejected but exists. The truth of the matter is that we deal with grey every day with our own set of rules, and guidelines. Do we stray from the very codes that define us? Do we condemn those that do stray and characterize it as weakness? When we do is it just or is it in the name of pleasure or failure? Where Dexter's code is to endure as a serial killer. . . The moral grey in Dexter is a question and a topic that can be debated to we go grey in the face, but it doesn't prevent it from being entertaining.

    

    

    
 

 

"I See Monsters"

Ryan Adams

"Oh, people are shouting, people are freaking
I'm just staring at the ceiling
Waiting for the feeling
Oh, oh when she calls
I know that she's the one
Makes me want it harder
Makes me want to be a little stronger
Still I see the monsters
Still I see the monsters"

Suffering the Panthers

I've been suffering the panthers for longer then I'd like. Argument acknowledged; that it is part of being a fan. For better or for worse. Look at the Raiders. . .

Steven Covey suggests that we shouldn't worry about what is outside our realm of influence. It's one of the 7 habits of Highly Effective People for Pete's sake! No wonder fans flock to the Yankees, and the Cowboys. An even more shameless phenomenon is the contingent of fans that hitch a ride on the bandwagon every year. You can expect an infusion of New Orleans Saints fans in the local sports bars, and Drew Bree's "9" jerseys in the halls of campuses around the country. I can't fault them, other than their lack of genuineness. It's all in good fun right?

Not in this country. Sports teams are like politics, your either right or wrong. It's sacrilege to hop from team to team, and just as shameful to be pulling for the "other guy". I love it. Growing up in the south for most of my formative years it was all about college basketball and Duke versus Carolina. There is downright hatred toward the other, and very little recognized respect.

In 1995, as a Pittsburgh Steelers fan I was confronted with a decision to make. A decision of whether to stay loyal to a team that had very little relevance to who I was other than an affinity for the way they play the game. The other choice was to become a Carolina Panther's fan. It seemed like the right thing to do, so I chose the latter. There were some overt signs that I was making the right decision, and like all fans I believed it was a direct message to yours truly (like I shouldn't have missed that game or I forgot my lucky hat). Dom Capers was to be the head coach, the former defensive coordinator of the Steelers. Jerry Richardson the owner of the Panther's franchise, also cited the Dan Rooney's Steelers as his inspiration for the Panthers organization. That's a lot of positive energy.

On the fateful day of September 3^rd, 1995 I was a through and blue Carolina Panthers fan! That day the Panthers played San Francisco and lost by 3 points. Not the desired result, but auspicious nonetheless. This team had something, and it was fun to watch. They played hard every game. Even when they lost they were showing flashes of brilliance. Coach Capers was an x's and o's guy who took notes on every play. He was stoic, and passionate when called upon. He had the southern grit, and the passion for winning that has defined this area for years. He was our guy. His team had tough-guys, and savvy veterans like Wesley Walls and Sam Mills. Players that were loved, and will always be remembered.

He quickly became the scapegoat for Richardson, and the organizations lackluster subsequent years. Enter George Seifert, a sure fire winner with a record to boot. That didn't go so well either. He didn't have the pathos or the mentality consistent with what was expected from a defensive team like the Panthers. In 2002 the Panthers signed John Fox for his first NFL Head-coaching job and fresh off a Super Bowl loss as a defensive coordinator with the New York Giants.

Fox was well liked, and his 2002 team finished 7-9 by playing harder and more fundamentally then many of their opponents. He started a veteran quarterback Rodney Peete who was respected for his leadership and experience. In 2003, he signed a second-stringer out of New Orleans the "Raging Cajun" Jake Dellhomme. The fans didn't have much of an opinion of Jake until his first series at quarterback in the second half of the Tampa Bay game. It was love at first sight. He had the grit, he had the fire, and he had us at hello. He was the right guy for the team, and so was John Fox. The teams dominating defensive line, and the offense finally had a backfield that could stretch the field and control the game. Now, was an exciting time to be a Panther's fan. The bandwagon was full and the team was quickly labeled the "Cardiac Cats" for their late game heroics.

Jake was popular because he made the big gambles and it usually paid off. He wasn't the best athlete, nor did he have the best arm. He had heart. In the south, that means something. We were loyal, and even shamelessly forgiving. This was the state of things over the next few years as the Panthers had a great season, then a mediocre season, then a good season, then a mediocre season, yada, yada. . . etc. etc. The vicissitudes of fandom can be gut-wrenching, but it comes with the condition.

It quickly became hard to be a Panthers fan. The team let some key free agents go. They failed to address a need to sign a good number two receiver, or a tight-end. The offense was never as effective without a power runner, and Foster never lived up to his number one billing. The great talent was withering away, and getting beat up. Julius Peppers, Mike Rucker, Kris Jenkins, Dan Morgan, Steve Smith, and Mushin Muhammad were not able to go on talent alone, the team lacked leadership. The organization failed to evolve with the times, and like any organization that fails to change with the times they failed to be effective with their strategy.

Like I said before, I've been suffering the Panthers for years now. Even after last year's NFC south dominating season I felt like we were on the brink of collapse. This season, we've collapsed. We still have dominating talent but lack the vision to compete in today's game. John Fox is still trying to win with a savvy veteran at quarterback, and a dominating defense. The problem is that experience should limit mistakes. This just isn't the case.

This ineptitude has fans screaming for heads and prematurely discussing rebuilding the franchise. The answer lies at the top. The fish rots from the head down. Fox and Marty Hurney have seen success, and like the way it tastes and feels. They just lack the edge, and creativity to sustain success with thirty-two smarter people competing for the very same thing. (the Raiders Al Davis notwithstanding)

"Coaches who can outline plays on a black board are a dime a dozen. The ones who win get inside their player and motivate. "
Vince Lombardi

"If you can accept losing, you can't win."

Vince Lombardi

2012 and how it made me feel. . .

It only took Roland Emerich a little over 2 hours to destroy the world. Somehow I believe that it would take us minutes. We fecklessly throw around our earnest opinions while practicing indifference towards that of others. Distrust is our modus operandi. Faith is an undeniable and impervious to facts because it feels right. Facts and science are framed and can be framed as nothing more than an opinion. We hold onto our conscience and believe so hard what our heart is telling us, or what we think it's telling us that to confront the probability is to arduous a task nor a noble one in our eyes. Our ignorance is our solace because the very notion that something is unknown or unaccounted for is too terrifying for us to grasp.

Apocalyptic tales have always fascinated me, and in many cases affect me like no other film can. The world is full of so much hatred, Racism, bigotry, xenophobia, liberalism and conservatism, etc, yada yada. These have evolved into something more lethal then opposition or even rivalry. The debate is no longer a progressive dialogue. Most people have entrenched themselves philosophically. The conversation has spilled over into something laced with violent undertones. Greed is pandemic, and knows no one group better than the other. Then the nihilist and anarchists voice pervades our minds and seemingly become relevant.

Then futility is borne from the volatility. It has often been suggested, and historically proven that we are the most likely threats and contributors to our own demise.

Cormac Macarthy's the Road paints a bleak picture at the conclusion of these events. One of the most beautifully written, and haunting stories ever written. His story confronts reality more than the custom Hollywood fare. All of these stories hit too close to home for me when I really get to thinking about it.

Sadly, this genre is more fantasy then the horror films (that reflect the news) that have become so popular lately. In every story, and less effectively in many, the end-times narrative has a spirit of altruism that no other story can capture. The CGI driven theatrics may be the major draw, but the heroics of the characters are what moves me. The triumph of the human spirit despite the destruction of everything we deem as valuable by our checkbooks and attention. Humanity and character is something rarely celebrated and insufficiently exalted in the daily grind. These stories illustrate the grandeur of such selflessness. The real reverence of such an ultimate sacrifice.

2012 is as good as any film under a similar guise. I hope that we can avoid such catastrophe in our time or our children's. The world is fragile, but can humanity overcome such devastation when we hate each other so much?  Is it only in the destruction of these lines that the divide between us is capable of being bridged? Or do I have it wrong and to be human is to hate--to self destruct? Are the nihilist right?  When so much of religious teaching and American philosophy are based on understanding and acceptance how can we as individuals or community look at ourselves in the mirror?

These movies get to me and compel me to think--what will be our legacy? Too much time on our computers, and gaming systems? Have we preoccupied ourselves in pursuit of pleasure? Have we created a virtual Babylon? Do we feel better watching our opinion-of-comfort prevail without another perspective to challenge our very core understanding? All of this is true. That's the horror of it. Like moths to the flame we are impelled towards gratification. This behavior begs the question, is to be human—to be hopelessly drawn to pleasure? It's one of the core principles of evolution. Are we so different from animals?

 

That is why I am drawn to these stories. Because I am no better than the person next to me, nor do I claim to be. I do not live in a glass house. These stories are sometimes listed under science fiction. I guess I am proposing that I wish the heroics of humanity were a little less fictional. Then again it's only 7:07 in the morning and I'm probably delirious. Mad even. . .

Self-Pity begets Daddy Issues? I hope not.

Being a father is something I take very seriously. Some find that hard to believe due to my late night proclivity to solitude or my afternoons sprawled out in one of the local movie theatres. I'm the Norm Peterson of the theatre. I even, question my actions on some occasions. Is this what a father should be doing? Not a question that I like to answer, or more importantly like the answer. Here I am at one in the morning writing a blog, after opening up a vein and contributing to my never-ending opus, after a nice date night with my lovely wife. Why am I still up?

There's so many days when my mind is in 5^th gear, and my body is in neutral. One learns ways of coping with these moments, and then one has to unlearn those same coping mechanisms as they mature. For some it's drugs or alcohol, others it's chasing skirt or other destructive behavior. I watch movies, or find a quiet place on Oak Hollow Lake and read a book. I disappear. . My life's pretty tame in comparison. So I guess that's why I've been okay with it. Either way, we have to discipline ourselves to let go of those childish things and suck it up, and be a man. We have to let go of what once provided us the very solace that balanced us growing up. Should I be buying tickets to see a movie a week instead of spending time with my daughter and son? I know the answer, and it's hard to justify the actions but I do. Please don't judge. I'm a self-aware monster.

It's funny when I tell people about the movies I've seen, or my afternoon plans. They seem to look at me like, is he married? I've even been asked, "How do you get away with that?" My best response, I do.

Late at night I walk into my children's room and give both of them a kiss. I listen to them breathe, and tell them that I love them. Then I walk into my refuge, behind the piles of books and bills and start writing. I harbor the fantasy that one day I could write a book in honor of them. "This book is dedicated to my beautiful and loving children." But would that make up for the absenteeism of a daddy? I don't even know why I would ask that question. I know the answer, yet I continue down this path.

Some nights when I don't have the head phones blasting Bob Dylan, and the fan turned way up I hear Aubrey call out for Mommy. It's touching, and warms my heart beyond anything I could imagine other than one thing. "Daddy", in which she says on a rare occasion. Sometimes, Liam looks at me and smiles, and eclipses anything else in the room. Moments like these are when I say to myself this is what I signed up for, and I'd do it again and again. Yet, I know this is the sacrifice. I reflect on the fact that I didn't have a father in my life until I was sixteen years-old. When I look at my life I see where I missed out on the formative encouragement of a father's love as a child. I had more than enough love from my mother, but it's something that can't be replaced. In many cases I believe that the lack of real father figures can be accounted for as one of the many ruinous effects on modern society. Everyone knows that America has "Daddy issues".

I guess I have some growing up to do. No matter what, my intentions are to be there for my children. Through thick and thin, and hell and high water, I think about them and their safety all day, every day. If I inherited anything from my father, it's his hyperactive anxiety in regards to things mostly out of my control. Despite the lunacy of scenarios that have been offered up to me by my him, I know that deep down inside his heart is in the right place.

Some fathers go out drinking after work, others smoke their brain cells into a haze, and others just don't come home. I'm not looking for a prize, just some understanding as I try to make my way through the world. Just a little less speculative opinion, and a little more sympathy for a man trying his best to balance the insanity of life's web of complexity. Maybe I write this as a way of purging my conscience? Perhaps it's a way of coming to terms with my selfishness? Or a release of guilt for being so self-sympathetic that I have to plug in to another world and unplug from my world as if it was a game of SIMS. Either way, I'm trying to be a grown up in a sophomoric world of hypocrisy, bloodlust, and sensationalism that's destroying mankind in spite of itself in the name of greed and entertainment. It's hard to be a man, much more a father, or a good father.

I look forward to the day when I can take them with me. Buy them an oversized drink, and some buttery popcorn. Find a quiet corner in the theatre. Sit back, and take it all in. Plug in, and unplug. Then again, am I contributing to a future problem? Maybe. . . All I know is that I love my family. My wife is an incredible mom and she does so much for me. She is an absolute saint when it comes to my escapist excursions. I have a lot of making up to do. . . And that's all I have to say about that.

 

"Daughter"

By London Wainwright III

 

Everything she sees
she says she wants.
Everything she wants
I see she gets.

That's my daughter in the water
everything she owns I bought her
Everything she owns.
That's my daughter in the water,
everything she knows I taught her.
Everything she knows.

Everything I say
she takes to heart.
Everything she takes
she takes apart.

That's my daughter in the water
every time she fell I caught her.
Every time she fell.
That's my daughter in the water,
I lost every time I fought her.
I lost every time.

Every time she blinks
she strikes somebody blind.
Everything she thinks
blows her tiny mind.
That's my daughter in the water,
who'd have ever thought her?
Who'd have ever thought?
That's my daughter in the water,
I lost everytime I fought her

Yea, I lost everytime

My Escape to Where the Wild Things Are

 

"There should be a place where only the things you want to happen, happen."

In the haze of what could only be described as stumbling to the bathroom after rolling out of bed, I couldn't shake the dream that I thought I had. To have experienced the book as a kid was to escape into a fantasy world, an award winning picture book, in which you were the king of monsters. To see through Spike Jonze eyes, is to see the world as a child once again. I awoke to a stark reality. That I was not dreaming. I was indeed in a theatre, captivated by the magic of Maurice Sendak's masterpiece Where the Wild Things Are on the silver screen.

The weight of the world can be incredible. The reality of the eternal nothingness. . . The Infinite Abyss. . . The dog-eat-dog status quo in which, when it matters, we are all out for ourselves. The feeling that no one can hear us, or that we even matter to anyone else. There is heartbreak, lies, and change. All of that begets the explosive anger in us, like a child we lose the ability to be rational. A delayed temper tantrum, that implodes onto the suburban-working class-post-adolescent version of us. The worst version of ourselves, in which adulthood encroaches on us, and we can no longer pound our fists and go kicking and screaming into our rooms. The all encompassing loneliness of being a kid misunderstood amplified by the complexity of inter-office posturing, and TPS reports. We all feel this way sometimes. Just like a kid, staring out the rain freckled window of our room hoping for the sun to come out and warm the pane.

As an adult, we can't afford to be beholden to our emotions. That's a misstatement, we are only human, however we can ill-afford to let them run wild as a kid. Growing up is filled of rights-of-passage, many regrets, and ill-conceived genuflecting to the dreams of children. In the book, and movie Max wants a return to normalcy, to be as it was. Changes in family that he can't understand overcome his ability to tame the beast within, and he runs away. This is more than your standard kid's film. Pixar and 3D would have cheapened the experience, and Sendak's illustrations. This film is a trip, in away. For those so inclined, I would imagine that this would be fun on acid. For me, that's an imaginative leap, and those I am predisposed to. Max's imagination like many of ours is the conduit he uses to grow, and evade the harsh reality of the ceaseless minute during a timeout or the sting of a spanking.

This story impacted me, again, but even more this time. Anybody that knows me knows of my weakness for the story. Escapism is my nicotine, my balance to the pressures of knowing what I know—what an adult knows. Little Max is screaming mad at his sister, and mother. He just wants to be understood. His destructive actions are the only way in which he can convey his feelings. The ends justify the proverbial means, so to speak. By smashing, and tearing through the house he can get their attention. Now they will listen! Just like his friend Carol, played by the incomparable James Gandolfini, he smashes and destroys his friend's huts to express his anger. They just don't seem to understand him, and he doesn't yet understand the pain that he inflicts. Max's mother can't help but to see a monster. As in our lives, we feel impotent to affect our circumstances. I feel like Max a little every day. We all want to run into another world where we can be king. We all want to let the "wild rumpus" start.

As Max shapes the world of Wild Things, he soon finds out that he too is but only a player. A sobering truth for all of us, I thought as I listened to the radio scream at me on why the world is going to hell in a hand basket.