Justice


Hello dear friends. I just got done eating an entire box of Kraft Mac and Cheese so before the carb-atonic
coma kicks in, I thought I’d write about the recent resignation slip handed in by Establishment Faith groups and the new day for Progressive Faith models.

As a Californian, I of course have been watching the Prop 8 develop like a “too much peppers” poop:
Something was afoot-a rumbling in some folks’ tummies. Out they pooped upon the landscape and now we’re dealing with the fallout. However-like any home clearing bowel movement, its acted as a clarion call to open a window.

Out of the shadows steps people of faith that are relevant, American ideal adhering, and on the side of history.

Firstly: When we’ve got people killing themselves in their foreclosed homes and nearly 10% unemployment and faith groups spending millions of dollars and millions of hours of effort to create an environment of inequality for a minority population, those faith groups have jumped the shark into abysmal irrelevance. This is essentially an act of handing over any right to speak “prophetically to the nation(s).” Arguably, the ‘prophetic’ is about misplaced values (idolatry) and injustice. I think that while people go hungry and there’s two wars going on, an argument over sematics and “definitions” is one way for any faith movement to sign up for the “misplaced concern” hall of fame.
Winner: Emerging progressive faith communities. Loser: Old Time Religion

Secondly: I’m confused about people who haven’t got the whole “Under God With Liberty And Justice For All” thing. Look-we’re in a racist and unfair country. We’ve got to get our shit together and start looking into systematic racism and the war on poor people we’re waging. We’ve got to find a way to educate our urban children, protect our workers migrant or not with the dignity due to human beings. This is the work of justice. And when a buncha “faithful” people rally around taking away the fully inclusive rights of some and neglect the basic tenets of the Constitution, its hard to gain momentum on the other justice issues too. America’s greatest ideals are about creating a safehaven in the world where everyone gets a fair shake. It has not always lived up to that promise. We have moved towards that goal-and we have been opposed in this goal by some faith groups every step of the way. (I say some. Progressive faiths have always been a part of the solution too. I know this.) The American constitution always historically wins out. I hate to say it, but for those folks who voted for Proposition 8 in California: Your faith’s cultural and spiritual vigor has been depleted and you just haven’t got what America is about yet. Look-people’s inherent constitutionally (and “god given” meaning essential and irrevocable) granted rights are not up for a vote. That’s why there’s a constitution to protect us all from a tyranny of the majority. Regardless of whatever your faith tells you about society being built upon the foundation of hetero-only families, what our society is founded upon is equal rights under law (and that whole life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness stuff too).

Lastly, our nation’s and our world’s young people are on to you. You see, there’s this thing called the Internet SupernetInfo Byway Overpass Web and it’s made the world a San Francisco. No, not in that all the world has really beautiful weather, environmentally friendly and forward thinking business, great coffee, and super mass transit: all the world is a major global port. Only Duluth Minnesota is now a global port of information. And the fear tactics of Old Time Religion is based on a lack of information. Kids are told about Leviticus and they go click on “Hermeneutics” and “Biblical Scholarship” and can figure out pretty quick the same thing that Progressive faiths have been saying for the last 300 years. Information is fluid and relationships are expanding. Guess what happens when one is related to others and isn’t misinformed about them? They begin to foster compassion, understanding, love, intimacy, vulnerability, mutual goals, community, etc. etc.

Prop 8 had its winners and its losers and Old Time Religion is on the ropes.
We can see how the voting has changed in this country over the years.
I’ve spoken with elementary school kids in the Valley who proudly share that their
beloved teacher is a lesbian.
We’ve got kids who know that global warming is real and that we can decide to make the environment for poor people in LA, Asia, Africa, Richmond, Detroit better or worse depending on our ethics and actions.
We know that we can achieve peace through non-violent means and that through solidarity and unity we can do anything as a nation or as a people.

Thank God for the Progressive Faith witness to lead the charge in justive, love, relevance, and real results for a better world. To all you Pagans, Muslims, Sikhs, Sufis, Hindis, Witches, Christians, Atheists, Jews, and other people of faith who are going the good work of justice for all-keep it up. You’ve got one Catholic in L.A. who’s just ate 2,800 calories of Mac and Cheese behind you.

And now its time for a nap.

I woke up today from a horrible nightmare.
Its a recurring genre of nightmare I have where Christians are making me feel horrible.
This happens quite a bit, actually. The one this morning was of an old Protestant pastor I
knew who in this particular dream was telling me to stay away from the youth of his church for fear that I would corrupt them and called me “an assassin of Christ”.
It made me feel horrible.
Its not just dreams like this that can ruin my mornings. All I have to do is recall Christian friends who have begun to feel that I was “too Christian”, “too legalistic”, “too liberal”,”not Christian”, “not the right kind of Christian”, or “under the influence of demons” (this is a personal favorite).

That dream made me realize I needed to clarify a bit a statement I made back in a comment dialogue attached to my movie review of “Religulous” where I stated that “I didn’t mind people telling me that I was going to hell but was more interested in how the belief that others are going to hell affects the potential for community.”

I take it back. To a certain degree. I know that I will always be in the wrong to someone and as the saying goes, “You can’t please everyone’s God 100% of the time.” So, I’m ready for whatever horrible dungeon any number of devotees might threaten me with.
BUT
not everyone is.
And I think that I’ve got to start holding these ‘eternal torture’ asswipes accountable.

You see, kids don’t know that hell is bullshit. Kids believe whatever you tell them. I tell my friend Jared’s niece Tiffanie that she’s cool and she is TOTALLY NOT cool. She still plays with Barbies. I mean c’mon. Bratz  are soooo much cooler. Tiffanie pretty much sucks.

And let’s face it: Telling Irish Catholics that they’re going to hell is old fucking hat.
I tell my entire family that they’re nothing but a bunch of Babylonian Sluts or Whores of Babylon or whatever. Slutty Persians.
They’re a big ol’ idolatrous heathonistic pile of pagans as far as I’m concerned. We’re an easy target and for as much ribbing as we get from the “Real Jesus Lovers” nothing too bad ever happens to us.
For instance, we recently haven’t had to fend for our Constitutional rights by a majority vote.

I’m a white guy who’s pretty hetero-normative (I’m not so much bi-curious as I am thigh-curious. Have you seen the legs on Shia LaBouff?) so I’m under the radar of the Hounds of Hell.
But it seems to me that its no coincidence that those who are more easily ‘essentialized’ get more of the
shitty end of the hell stick.
That’s the way it usually has been right? Women, people whose skin doesn’t quite match the en vogue pigment, people who love people with unapproved genital sets….

Hell, if God’s gonna torture ‘em for eternity, why not get ‘em warmed up?
Give ‘em a razzin’ or two? Drag some folks behind trucks? Keep them folks on THAT side of the fence.

Just as I have white privilege, I have “hell privilege”.
I can praise Jesus loudly and fool the Hell Hounds.
Some people can’t hide there “hell-boundedness” as well as I can.
The real life results of Hellish thinking make it easier to beat, diminish, oppress, and throw away as ‘Other’ “unsaved and hellbound” folks and its for those reasons that I’m repenting on hell….
I do care who you’re saying is going to burn in hell forever.
Because they’re my friends and family.
And you spoutin’ off that they’re maggot fodder to their very core-their very essence
gets played out in all kinds of real, tangible violence.
I’m sick of Napolean Complex Gods in the tiny minds of Hell Hounds going unchecked.

Unfortunately, I don’t believe that peoples minds will ever be changed theologically aside from loving, listening, caring dialogue. So all you Hell Hounds better be ready for a considerate and patient response from me next time I hear you say “hell”.
That’s right. I’m gonna listen carefully and show you how much I value you.
And then I’ll gently offer you another way.
Because life is hell enough as it is without turning religion into an argument.

Ryan “Flames Are Presently Licking My Taint” McGivern

            So here in California, where I am the palest of residents, we will soon be voting on the rights and status of a minority population. We love this stuff!

            You may think that California is all fun and games-coke, surfing, broccoli and meth farms, fields of weed and military bases. Well, you’d be in part right. We are all about fun here. But we also know how to get things done when it comes to calling into question the basic tenets of our country’s Constitution.

            More than a 110,000 Japanese ‘interned’ at our scenic getaways during the Second World War can tell you: California is a great place to live and an even better place to be scape-goated!

            Hey! You think that we’d be tuckered out with all this ‘economic crisis’? Pah!
            Bring it on.

            War, poverty, hunger, drought, environmental collapse, sickness, over stretched education system, jam packed prisons—We don’t even notice that shit anymore.

            Because we’ve got bigger fish to fry: Who’s loving who.

           

            So we’re ready to vote on Prop. 8!
            Thank Jesus for the California Family Council and their ilk.

           

            Now people will tell you that this whole thing is recalling the ‘tradition’ and ‘religion’ soaked arguments against interracial marriage.

            (Was that even illegal in America? That seems silly. Having so many caring Christians around, they wouldn’t have let that happen right?)

            Turns out that California dealt with the issue of interracial marriage back in 1948-

back when we still had God in our schools, God wasn’t mocked by Harry Potter, and our children felt horrible for masturbating.

 

            Here’s some highlights from Perez v. Lippold- a case over a Mexican American, Andrea Perez, wanting to marry African American Sylvester Davis…

           

            “The right to marry is as fundamental as the right to send one’s child to a particular school or the right to have offspring.”

           

            “Legislation infringing such rights must be based upon more than prejudice and must be free from oppressive discrimination to comply with the constitutional requirements of due process and equal protection of the laws.”
           

            “Since the right to marry is the right to join in marriage with the person of one’s choice, a statute that prohibits an individual from marrying a member of a race other than his own restricts the scope of his choice and thereby restricts his right to marry. It must therefore be determined whether the state can restrict that right on the basis of race alone without violating the equal protection of the laws clause of the United States Constitution.”

 

            “A state law prohibiting members of one race from marrying members of another race is not designed to meet a clear and present peril arising out of an emergency. In the absence of an emergency the state clearly cannot base a law impairing fundamental rights of individuals on general assumptions as to traits of racial groups.”

 

            Hmmmm….That Justice Traynor must have been a real activist judge enforcing his will upon the people. Radical elitist.

 

            So what were people saying back in the Good Old Days against interracial marriage? Here’s some great quotes gathered from www.vtfreetomarry.org

           

            “Allowing interracial marriages “necessarily involves the degradation” of

conventional marriage, an institution that “deserves admiration rather than

execration.’”

 

            “[A]t the very time the Constitution of the United States was being formulated,

miscegenation was considered inimical to the public good and was

frowned upon by the colonies, and continued to be so regarded and

prohibited in states having any substantial admixture of population at the time

the 14th amendment was adopted.”

 

            “Civilized society has the power of self-preservation, and, marriage being the

foundation of such society, most of the states in which the Negro forms an

element of any note have enacted laws inhibiting intermarriage between the

white and black races.”

 

            …….Tradition! Convention! Accepted throughout our Nation’s history! If only we had judges who were faithful to the Constitution of our founding fathers instead of radically ‘interpreting’ it….  

 

           

            Well, maybe things have changed. Maybe there’s more sense, equality, Constitutionality, care, patriotism and Christian charity happening now than before. Let’s take a look at the language being used on the voting information for Prop. 8 in the Official California Voter Information Guide as written by such gentle spirits as Ron Prentice of California Family Council, Bishop George McKinney, Jeralee Smith of the California Parents and Friends of Ex-Gays and Gays.

 

            1) They refer to the ‘gay lifestyle’ a number of times in their arguments. This is language that is more appropriate to the early 1980’s. It assumes, contrary to what science, experience, philosophy, and theology have been telling us for decades, that identity is an easily compartmentalized and categorized phenomena. I’m not even going to fall into the trap of the question of ‘is it a choice?’ or ‘are you born that way?’. Feminists, cognitive scientists, Queer Theorists, Theologians, and Christian Leaders have passed over that question a long time ago. Identity is fluid, porous….free. Hey, you mean that people are free to be who they want? That’s either American or common sense, but anyway you hack it, ‘gay lifestyle’ is a language trap that’s only appealing to the most out-of-touch or inconsiderate among us.

            2) They write that they are very fearful of ‘our children’ being taught that ‘gay marriage is okay.’ OKAY. What that exactly means, I’m not sure. Now, the freedom to marry who you want will in no way affect the education of children in public schools other than if they are to ask their teacher “do all people have equal treatment under law in their pursuit of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness?” the teacher can now honestly answer “Well, were at least working in that direction.”

            This is the best word that they could come up with? OKAY? You don’t want your kids to get the idea that ‘gay marriage is okay’? Do you mean ‘legal’? Do you mean ‘not sinful’? Acceptable? I wonder if they are meaning ‘moral’? Are some people seeking to enshrine their idea of morality in state law and validate their interpretation of their religion’s norms? It seems that America has a nasty way of coming to find (albeit sometimes slowly) that these appeals to Tradition and Old Time Religion are less than compelling.

 

            3) They recall the ‘definition of marriage’. Are we fighting over the use of a word, a religious sacrament, or a civil right? Words can and will be used in different ways, and unless we want a Linguistic Council established to further bloat our Big Brother government, we’ll have to probably settle on the fact that words and the ideas behind them change. Or is it the religious sacrament? As a Catholic, believe me: I’d love for a buncha people out there to stop baptizing all willy-nilly. Baptism had been long established by Tradition and Old Time Religion and now look around us! We got Mormons baptizing dead people, we got the Triple Dunk Style, Sprinkle, Single Dunk in a MegaChurch Style….Its ridiculous! We need to go back to the traditional definition of Baptism: “Babies in white gowns crying.” If it’s the American Right to live your life the way you want and arrange your family life the way you want, then that’s a definition of marriage that doesn’t really help the Yes on Prop. 8 crowd.

 

            No where in the arguments for Yes on Prop. 8 do they mention equal protection under the law. No where is there an appeal to the Constitution (national or state) as a document that grants the same rights to everyone.

            They claim that Prop. 8 restores “the meaning of marriage to what human history has understood it to be”. This is the most sick, fascist, and bigoted nonsense of their argument. It reveals exactly what they are talking about: Their petty little world that ignores the cultures, religions, historical periods that reveal that marriage, family, love, commitment, sacraments are very cultural and religious ideas that are varied and changing. Who are they including in ‘human history’? There you have it: the clearest revelation of their agenda-deciding who is less than worthy of human dignity.

 

            Who is California going to side with on Prop. 8?

            Who do you see as human? Inhuman? Who is ‘okay’ enough to be included in your definition of human?

 

            Vote NO on Prop. 8.

           

 

            Your Pale Californian, Ryan McGivern

 

www.vtfreetomarry.org

 

           

 

With the Bejing Olympics coming up this week, I think its high time to
say what everyone has been thinking:
Tibet must be allowed to be gluten free.

How long has there been wheat added to the soy sauce of a once
picturesque and placid country?
Is that really necessary? I understand that it thickens it a bit and is more
pleasing to the communist taste, but really: Can’t Tibet be free to decide for
itself between Tamari and Kikkoman?

Tibet had been historically a quiet, nonviolent self autonomous kingdom that
prided itself in producing fine foods without the use of wheat, malt, oats, nor barley.
You think its easy to meditate for eight hours at a time when your sprew is kicking
in overtime? Think again.

While the world will be watching China in the upcoming weeks and enjoying the world’d greatest athletic endeavors, some of us will be wondering if the next bowl of noodles Tibet eats will be made from barley flour ‘tsampa’ or rice.

The voice of the intestinally challenged will not be silenced.
Gluten Free Tibet

http://sweetpeasglutenfreekitchen.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-love-tibet.htmlhttp://www.flyingapron.net/home.htm
http://www.tibet.org/

If you love animals as much as I do (rabbits, caribou, finches), you’ve got to help me stop
“Livery Stables”.

My research has found the advertisement below written by their owner and as far as I can tell neither PETA nor Animal Solidarity have heard about this ghastly enterprise. Read below and decide for yourself!!

Dearest Loyal Customer/Animal Loving Patriot:

Our most recent foray into the often turbulent but lucrative animal warehousing market has been met with great success.
Our clientele has always expected the very best from our patented Animal Warehousing Technologies,
but Livery Stables has now raised the bar with our new “Program: Excellence” 

Our newest intiative, “Program: Excellence” is in short a miracle of modern Man.
First, we take our customers most beloved animals, pets, livestock, cattle, and/or seeing eye dogs and give them the everlasting empathy, spiritual connection, and non-judgemental love that they truly deserve. We then put them in a small, ammonia laced bleach bath in a wooden keg.
We then write down any feelings that we are sensing from our co-workers or the world-at-large and then place the creature in a cardboard lined slot in our newly spraypainted drywall.
We then give the animal a good washing with an ammonia mister that we have patented
ourselves called the “Mr. Myster”.
We then will test for breeding compatability with our other shelved pets.

Livery Stables is the Industry Leader.

We have a Corporate Motto which says: “Quidquid latine dictum sit, altum sonatur.”

Lemuel Osmond
Livery Stables

 
Please join MindFlowers in ending this barbaric venture.
Together, we can save a pet’s life.

Weeks ago, on a Sunday, a few friends and I wandered in the forest to spend a day basking in a sulfuric hot springs near Vancouver, CA. As you might imagine, the pleasant smell of the sulfur-laced water was reminiscent of that dream everyone has of wading through a plethoric concentration of rotten eggs, but somehow it was a pleasant experience for me. The natural warmth of mother nature contrasted sensually with her chilled air, and the putrid smells eventually became us because — as is well documented by Cambridge ass-tro-physicists — our own shit don’t stink.

Soon after we arrived a second group joined us consisting of five folks coming from a Renaissance Fair, folks who reminded me of the 80’s video game Golden Axe. They quickly and obnoxiously asserted an uncomfortable social domination over our group, spicing our conversation with shouts of non-politically-correct vulgarity. They got naked (as were most of us), drunk (a cold beer in a hot spring is delightful idea!) and overly-stoned, and then they began literally overly-stoning each other, throwing rocks at each others’ faces and ignoring us, the innocent bystanders. There was one female included in their coterie and it became apparent that an orgy would occur the moment we left. Our presence was a cockblock.

At dusk they brought out a box of 200 glow sticks which lit up the water like a radioactive lightning bug factory. The rock war turned into a glow stick war. “With the rockets green glare, the bongs bursting with THC fortified air, gave proof through the night that empty beer cans were bound to be left there.”

We made our exit as darkness made its entrance, to permit our companions privacy to relieve their blue balls (and the female equivalent) and because there seemed no time limit to their violent ballistic battles. The drunker they got and the darker it got were Oxy clear factors in rapidly declining aim. Oh yeah, and two of their guys were already making out French style.

Most of my group was dissatisfied with the day’s happenings but I was fascinated with this display of raw, timeless human nature. We are all animals, dude. Hear me roar.

By the way, what do you think of “Blue Ovaries” as the name for my autobiography?

All Spice and Periwinkle,
j.j.

Are you aware that the lyrics to the song Happy Birthday — published and copyrighted in 1935 — are still protected by United States copyright laws? To be in compliance, lawful citizens must pay royalties to Time Warner — current owner of the copyright — each time Happy Birthday is sung in public. This may include but is not limited to elementary schools, parks and restaurants.

The website unhappybirthday.com explains:

According to United States copyright law in United States Code, Title 17 §106, authors of works such as musical compositions have the exclusive right “to perform the copyrighted work publicly.” In United States Code, Title 17 §101, the law defines publicly performing a work as “to perform or display it at a place open to the public or at any place where a substantial number of persons outside of a normal circle of a family and its social acquaintances is gathered.”

This means that if you sing Happy Birthday to your family at home, you’re probably not committing copyright infringement. However, if you do it in a restaurant — and if the restaurant hasn’t already worked out a deal with ASCAP — you may be engaging in copyright infringement.

For detailed information about how to fight this vagrant and widespread crimewave of copyright infringement, please attentively browse the unhappybirthday.com website. Join Mindflowers in this grassroots movement!

As your primary news source, Mindflowers has diligently reported on the upcoming International Pillow Fight Day to be held on March 22nd. A preliminary pillow fight flash mob was held last weekend at a park in Seattle. According to a Seattle Parks Department press release:

On Saturday a flash mob left Ballard’s Bergen Place covered with feathers after a pillow fight and on Sunday night vandals scrawled graffiti across several structures in Discovery Park. These two weekend incidents took 10 hours of staff time to clean up.

On Saturday afternoon, about 50 people converged on downtown Ballard’s Bergen Place for a spirited pillow fight. After about five minutes, feathers covered the entire park. Participants left soon after that without picking up after themselves. Parks maintenance crews spent six hours cleaning up the mess and a Parks security officer is trying to track down the organizer and other participants.

Mindflowers proposes that, if caught, the evil pillow fight perpetrators be immediately shipped to Guantanamo Bay to be sexually molested and detained for the rest of their sorry, pitiful lives without being charged. And their friends and family members should all be given water-boarding torture to find out what they know (hopefully something about the meaning of life). And, to avoid future 9/11’s, pillows SHOULD NOT be allowed on airplanes.

In conclusion, be conscientious about your pillow fighting. Unless you prefer hell to heaven. I know I do.

PART ONE

I grew up in Tuscaloosa, Alabama, home of more gun racks per square person than anywhere south of the Santa Claus Residence. Like most people that aren’t hippies or Rapunzel, at times I would get haircuts. I’d typically do this whenever my mind was wooing a girl (note that mind and reality are different beasts, a lesson I still haven’t internalized. Also note the irony in having to “internalize” the value of extroversion).

From almost birth through pubescence, my folks lived in a former plantation house and I in the slave quarters, not unlike most families in the Deep South. Maybe I’m kidding? I frequented an old-school barbershop titled “Don’s” within walking distance from my home. This barbershop was stuffed with old white men in over-polished loafers and Duck Head polo shirts, a parking lot conglomeration of pickup trucks, plywood walls mule-packed with tiny framed photographs of hunting trips and football legends, conversations exclusively about hunting trips and football legends, and a clock that seems to move at a pace slower than time. And most importantly, a Nike poster of multi-sport star Bo Jackson and musician Bo Diddley that exclaims loudly, “Bo Knows Diddley.”

A quick side-note that begins with a dose of context: Auburn University is the arch-rival of the University of Alabama, the mega-school headquartered in my home town. There have been murders over this rivalry. I once owned a shirt that screamed in bold orange text, “Auburn Is My Team But Jesus Is My King”. Gosh darn it, babe, I live to spark absurd controversy.

Being Jewish and as cheap as raining cats and dogs in monsoon season and nonsensical analogies, my heart angrily skipped a beat every two years or so as Don’s Barbershop would hike their price a buck. Considering I lived in Alabama, off and on, from age 5 to 23, the price went from $8 to $17. When I was 22, I discovered a different barbershop across the railroad tracks, called “Ricky’s”. Ricky’s had a sign out front that advertised haircuts at $6. Bling bling, I felt as if I’d won the Golden Ticket to Willy Wonka’s factory and then proceeded to defeat the leprechaun guarding the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow!! This is too good to be true, I thought. And it was.

I walked inside and noticed two things. First, the Ricky’s Barbershop interior was a splitting image of Don’s — the architectural layout was a carbon copy, the framed salon style photo exhibition was there, and even the Bo Knows Diddly poster made an appearance. But there was one sizable difference: the barber, clientele and the people in the framed photos were shades of brown. As I froze in confusion, my pale Caucasian body became even whiter as blood rushed towards my face. I looked like a freshly bleached mannequin with a maroon balloon head. My emotional desire was to leave, but how much more rude and racist could I get? So I sat down in the waiting area and everyone was as cordial and friendly as can be. I was fourth in line, so there was some waiting, and, of course, plenty of conversation about hunting trips and football legends.

Finally, it was my turn. “I’ve never cut a white man’s hair before,” my barber said. “But I’d love to try.” I turned even redder; my maroon balloon face was filled to capacity and ready to pop. I learned that black barbers only use clippers and mine didn’t own a pair of scissors. He buzzed my hair into a faux hawk, all the while apologizing to me , just the sort of thing you want to hear when you are getting your haircut.

He finished with, “This was an experiment. I can do better. Promise me you’ll come back and let me try again?” A bit of a nightmare question. I lied quietly to appease him. “Today your haircut is free,” he said.

Truthfully, I didn’t mind the cut. I mean, it is other people that have to look at me, and there weren’t any girls on the horizon. But still, I would unwittingly and unintentionally get revenge.

PART II

At the time I was employed enslaved at Olive Garden serving over-salted minestrone soup and diarrhea-inducing, bland-as-Indiana pasta to idioticos who, due to effective brainwash tv marketing, honestly believe that corporate scientifically developed assembly line food is somehow superior to an independent, homegrown restaurant whose cuisine is made with creativity and heart and whose staff have a sincere passionate stake in the quality of the dining experience. And, personally, I prefer my hard-earned dining bucks to hop inside the pockets of some local high-rolling playboy chef, as opposed to boring soul-less investors lazily carcinagizing their pale skin in the flaring sun outside their Florida winter-homes, whose eventual skin cancer treatments will force healthcare costs to pop up like a teenage boy’s boner. And these are the same venomous “humans” that despise universal healthcare. But I digress like a motherfucker.

So two questions remain:

QUESTION ONE: Considering my aforementioned disdain for Olive Garden, why in Atrayu’s name would I work there?

ANSWER: I wanted to be a server and Olive Garden hired me first; other places wanted experience and I hadn’t even had sex yet, much less served at a restaurant. From then on out, in all my job applications, I’ve learned that lying gets you places, including probably Hell. But anywho, it was that simple — I needed a job like a cavity needs a tooth. Or something like that.

My initial week was lovely– I was trained in a haze of booze, always downing glasses of wine and whiskey before sampling all the culinary mediocrity on the menu. Drinking is part of the process because, as the bartender/trainer/flamer told me while putting his hand on my thigh (a benefit at this particular Olive Garden), “Honey, when you are lit everything and everyone taste fabulous!” As I sipped my third brown-sugar rimmed House Margarita, my trainer winked at me and I winked back, and then we walked off into the sunset, which is pretty hot up close.

QUESTION TWO: How inside Virgin Mary’s asshole are you going to return full circle to the barber revenge plotline?

ANSWER: Ah, you are one bright blinking LED bulb, aren’t you? I eventually morphed into a quasily-competent Olive Garden server, mesmerizing customers with nonsense banter, slinging plates of food with my eyes closed, up-selling customers into buying appetizers they didn’t want and house wine marked up 5000% (up-selling is an Olive Garden regulation; employees who don’t are sent home).

Six months after my haircut on the other side of the tracks, Ricky — my African-American barber — sat in my section with his picturesque family dressed in their Sunday best. They were jovial and I became nervous, because not only did I not keep my promise to return, but I also had a fresh Don’s Barbershop $17 haircut.

“You didn’t come back,” he said with accusatory sadness once he recognized me. “I’m sorry,” I muttered. “But I swear I’ll make your dining experience a delight.”

Everything went wrong. I spilled the tray of soft drinks on the barber’s beautiful wife; we were out of fresh breadsticks, so I gave them lukewarm stale ones; the minestrone soup was not to their liking; the entire kitchen crew was out back smoking cigarettes and pot so their main courses took infinity; I incorrectly punched their food into the computer so instead of Chicken Parm the barber received Veggie Lasagna; and the kids’ pizza came with the wrong toppings — they specifically requested no onions or olives and lots of pepperoni, but I heard it the other way around. I apologized continually throughout the meal, just the type of thing to enhance a dining experience.

After I brought them a complimentary dessert that I personally paid for (Olive Garden locks their desserts and only the Kitchen Manager has a key), I limped away to the kitchen and into the walk-in freezer. As I began to cry, tears froze to my cheeks.

They left me a 20% tip.

 

On Saturday March 22nd 2008, there will be massive pillow fights in cities around the world! Use this site to locate the nearest one. If you would like to learn how to organize a pillow fight, read the howto guide. Please note that some cities will not be participating on March 22nd, either due to traditions (such as San Francisco) or cold weather conditions, like most of Canada. Otherwise, see you at the pillow fight!

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