IT WAS JUST A MATTER OF TIME...

Unless you live in a cave in Afghanistan, you've probably heard about the British teacher who was arrested in Khartoum, Sudan, for allowing her students to name a teddy bear Mohammed. Wait, scratch that. If you live in a cave in Afghanistan, you've most definitely heard this news around the water cooler... Well, anyway, the teddy bear in question was unavailable for comment, but I managed to find a photo that very closely matches the description of the actual bear (see above.) Normally, I would say that there is no higher honor in the land than to be named after a teddy bear. But this particular bear, with its headdress, ribbon, (probably used for torture,) and boxes of "gifts" (come on, I know a homemade bomb when I see one,) it is easy to see why naming this teddy bear Mohammed might be considered profiling, and thus, offensive to the Sudanese people. After all, their government is known for holding itself to the most stringent of moral codes.

The teacher, Gillian Gibbons, may face jail time, or possibly, 40 lashes. The bear, you ask? Why, he has been recruited by the Janjaweed, of course.

ROLLER GUY...

So this is "Crazy Robertson," aka John Wesley Jermyn, a homeless, schizophrenic man who's been rollerskating the streets of Beverly Hills for more than twenty years. I remember driving by him countless times on my way to and from school as a kid. He was always just "Crazy Robertson." My friends and I thought he was funny. I mean, who would wear that outfit (shorts over tights, a headscarf coupled with a baseball cap, and always all black) except a crazy person? I guess like most kids in the Beverly Hills area, or pretty much anywhere else in America, we lacked a great deal of compassion.

Now it's already been blogged about heavily, and written about widely in the Wall Street Journal and elsewhere, but I just want to speak my piece about the news event du jour: Three young Beverly Hillbillies, all in their twenties, have started a "Crazy Robertson" clothing line, which they are selling at the trendy Kitson on, where else, Robertson Blvd. Apparently they have about as much compassion for the homeless and mentally ill now as I did in 5th grade. A lot of people are outraged by what they see as an exploitative maneuver. But I don't think it's all bad. I mean, CR agreed to it, and is getting a small percentage of the profits--which he doesn't seem terribly interested in anyway. Money's really not his thing. And what kind of legacy would he have otherwise left? To be sure, the clothing line could, should, and probably will be very fleeting... but not too many people can claim a clothing line based on their unique persona--especially CR, who seems to have trouble claiming much of anything. The Pollyanna in me says, "Maybe this will spur on some sort of awareness about homelessness and schizophrenia on the desrt island of Beverly Hills, where most people still blatantly defy pretty much every dictate of reality there is." But then Pessimistanna answered, "You have got to be f-ing kidding me, Polly. Oh, and can I have a ride to Westside Pavilion? I'm going to see the Crazy Robertson biopic, 'Rollerskate the Line.'"

So I started thinking (not an altogether common occurence): One, if I had a clothing line based on myself, what would it be like? And two, why am I not
on my way to the custom t-shirt shop right now? And THREE, what is the greater societal implication of rich, trendy people spending anywhere from $33 to $75 dollars per item on a piece of clothing inspired by a mentally ill vagrant? It's not the clothing line that bothers me, but more the herd mentality that it underscores. I guess I'm a touch worried about what's next. Dar Fur coats? I Raq the House t-shirts, complete with silk screened side-by-side images of rock guitarist and car bomb explosion emblazoned underneath? If anyone with an entrepreneurial spirit is paying attention right now, I command you to STOP. Ignore everything I just said.

But en serio, I think that we pretty much have to be at the edge of an apocalypse, if homeless people are becoming icons for the rich. Know what else? It seems wealth has been worshipped so fervently and for so long, that there has to be at least a superficial attempt at a values shift coming our way, if not a really fundamental one. But hey, I'll take what I can get...

ZOROASTRIANISM OR BUST!!!

Welcome, Readers!

I decided today would be as good a day as any to talk a little bit about Zoroastrianism. Zoroastrianism is the religion based on the teachings of the prophet Zoroaster. But Zoroaster believed this dude Ahura Mazda was the One True God. Here's a likeness of him, for the family album:




As you can see, he had a lot of appendages going on, like wings, ball-like feet, and a tail. Probably not the most fuel-efficient deity. So anyway, Zoroastrians believe in that guy. Ahura Mazda... Sounds suspiciously like two different car companies to me. But as I was saying, belief in Ahura Mazda is called Mazdaism. Zoroastrianism bears a great resemblance to all the other Judeo-Christian faiths, but it got there FIRST, and thus, was a precursor to a lot of modern day religious beliefs and traditions. Probably a kinder, gentler version of all the stuff folks believe now. But still, likely somehow connected to the root of the reasons for just about all the wars in the world.

Zoroastrianism was the dominant religion in the Persian empires (559 BC to 651 AC.) It's most sacred text is the Avesta. Again, sounds more than vaguely reminiscent of a car company. And I'm thinking, when the Big Three finally go out of business, (which I can't believe hasn't happened yet--have you driven a Ford lately?) I'm gonna start a car company called Avesta. My cars are going to be extremely low emission vehicles, and you'll have to peddle them with your feet, something like this:

Now that's progress.

Anyway, I challenge all of you, Dear Readers, to either come up with a religion or a car company of your own--or perhaps, both. Both gets you about fifty-thousand gold stars.

NY MARATHON!

I just came back from running the New York Marathon. It was such an exciting, inspiring event, with so much to see... bands, costumes, and oh-so-many spectators. And (coming off a back injury) I only came in about an hour and twenty minutes behind Lance Armstrong, and about an ahour and a half ahead of Katie Holmes, so I'm pretty pleased about all that.


The course takes you through all five burroughs of New York City. You start on Staten Island, run through Brooklyn, Queens, the Eastside of Manhattan, up to the Bronx, and then end up in Central Park. Over 38,000 people raced, including some blind people and some amputees. When you see those folks going for it, it makes you feel like you have absolutely no excuse not to crank through and do well.

During the race, an older guy who'd run ten marathons and was on my heels basically the whole way, loaned me his nasty, sweaty, dirty polypropylene shirt to wear. And I was cold, so I accepted it. You already have to be slightly delusional to run this race, but while you're racing, you get even MORE delusional, and willingly put on strangers' sweaty clothes.

Check out photos here and here.

FOCUS ON THE SEVENTIES

Know who's in the above picture? If you said, Dr. James Dobson, of Focus on the Family, you'd be right. If you said Adobe Acrobat 8, you'd also be right. What do the two have to do with each other? Nothing that I know of. Though JD has probably used AA once or twice. But I accidentally uploaded the Adobe picture (I'm selling Adobe on ebay--I don't keep it in my family album) and can't seem to get rid of it here.

AAnnnyyhoo, I just wanted to show you that picture of James Dobson, because I was talking about him last night and realizing, I don't think I've ever seen his mug. Now that picture, and its soft, feathered-light background, looks like it's straight out of 1973. Does it not? Reminds me of one of those science films we watched in fourth grade where the guy with the horn rimmed glasses driving a '57 Chevy showed you how much sugar was really in a milk shake. Which begs the question, why does the Christian right seem to be stuck in an entirely outdated era, all the time??? I bet when high-waisted jeans come back in, (as they so sadly are) James Dobson will be right there with his pair, ready to go. Or maybe not... Maybe he's stuck in an era prior to the FIRST wave of high-waisted jeans. His wife probably still wears one of those full body bathing suits.

Anyway, I do think that the Fundamentalists being stuck in another era is a, forgive me, fundamental problem for us all. First off, they are trying to live as though we were all in a biblical era. In case anyone hasn't noticed from the advancements in sneaker design, we're not. Second, they are all about strict constructionist views on the Constitution and all that stuff, which is basically a microcosm of their passion for rigidly adhering to an outdated text from a long bygone era.
But anyway, it's getting a little breezy up here on this soapbox, so I'm gonna come down now. I just wanted anyone who is frightened by the direction this country has taken--and don't be fooled by not hearing that much about Huckabee or Brownback, they're waiting to pounce at the last minute--to know thine enemy, as the bible thumpers would say. And so now, if you're ever walking down the street past James Dobson (or perhaps if you see him leaving yoga class or while standing in line for your latte) you can put a face with a name. Or a pie in the face. As the case may be.