fun facts about the world

So, "my man" Clarence Williams (another Clarence Williams is pictured to the left,  not the rapist) and his raping ways have opened a discussion about the statute of limitations of rape charges in NY state. Now I’m not usually a fan of any new technology that makes it hard for criminals to get over, but I do think that it is great that rapists can be identified through DNA samples taken from them and their victims and (in theory) be prosecuted for the horrible crimes they committed (1 t? 2t’s?).

However, the problem with this is that the statute has expired for all of the crimes that Clarence committed (the AP reports "at least 25 women from the 1970’s through 1991"), as the statute is only 10 years. What I found fucked up about that (other than the obvious; getting away with rape even if you get caught) is that, according to the AP, "Murder, kidnapping and certain serious drug offenses are the only crimes with no statute of limitations."

Now thats just special. If I had (and I’m not saying I did either way) move a few (or a few hundred) bricks of that brown back in the late 80’s for whatever reason (starving kids, curing AIDS, getting that cake), even if I curtailed my wayward ways I would live my life with that shit hanging over my head and knowing at any moment, I could be popped by 5’s for it.

However, if I had hidden deep in my past say a 6 week period of being the Duct Tape Rapist during early march to mid april 1995, i would have popped the Cris (or more likely Andre) last week because there is no way I could EVER be charged for those crimes regardless of DNA evidence, eyewitness testimony, etc.; the statute of limitations had expired.

So, just like when I see people in jail for 20 years for going hand-to-hand on the corners when they were 19, I say to myself. "IT’S ROCKEFELLER Y’ALL"

So basically my job is to accept passport applications and make sure that whoever is applying for the passport is the person whose information is on the form and that their ID matches their information and looks both like them in person and the picture they submit, blah, blah.
Pretty much it amounts to me sitting there on the internet adding girls on myspace and keeping up with the latest information about Tulane Baseball (no-hitter this week, what??) and the various other random bullshit that is on this World Wide Web (I’m a fan of the posts site and slate, whatever).

I digress (sp?), anyway, I am what you would call underemployed. Meaning that my amazing college degree (yeah Tulane. I mean yayo Tulane!) undeniable physical attractiveness and the sort of people skills Jesus had (until they crucified him) would have landed someone with ambition a real job by now. My point is that my job isn’t difficult and is reactive (vs. proactive, explaining that to my bosses: way over their head.) so basically i sit there wishing I could puff the la-la-la and I don’t know, watch TV.

So while what I do isn’t difficult and I only "work" maybe 40 mintues out of the 7 hours a day I work, the fact that I just kinda got hired without anyone asking too many questions doesn’t exactly help me sleep easy at night (thats where the ambien comes in, that you very much) and the fact that I’ve been doing this for a year leads me to believe that no one is going to ask them to me or any of the other numerous passport agents across the country.

So my concern is that with all the "terrorists" in "post 9/11" America don’t you think someone would need some sort of formal training other than the 5 hour monotone lecture and slide show I got on my first day of employment. Maybe a background check perhaps?? Maybe like a little true/false quiz or something, nothing too complicated. par example.

I hate America.   T  F

I’m a terrorist.    T  F

I hate America.   T F

I’m sure there would be a few people who they could disqualify for the position right off the bat. Why don’t they do this??

I ask these questions because all state employees (in NY at least, I’m not speaking for these other herb-ass states. NYStand up!) need to be fingerprinted and go through a background check before they begin employment, and since I just switched payrolls I needed to be fingerprinted to get on the state payroll.

NO, not because I was in a position where, if i fucked up, a U.S. Passport (which is basically the most valuable document out there, exculding maybe the dead sea scrolls and my first fake ID) could easily fall into the wrong hands, that didn’t warrant me being fingerprinted and backgound checked. NO, no, but they couldn’t give me state benfits without screening me. That would be unprofessional, I suppose.

But what is even more worrysome (sp?) is that even if I had a history of spewing anti-America rhetoric and being bagged for it by the thought police or whoever does those illegal arrests and detentions these days, no one took ANY steps to prevent me from obtaining this position other than have me submit proof of citizenship. Shit I could even be on a no-fly list chilling in NYC handing out passports to my "evil" associates whose nefarious plots to destroy the country would be so much easier to pull off if someone from the inside was helping them out. (Im not, clearly, but I’m better than that. so much better.) so this is a problem. I’ll update if I somehow solve it.

*side note. people who live in NYC and eat at Subway and Dominos fucking kill me. Listen, when I was in the dirty dirty and motherfuckers couldn’t make pizza to save their failing public school system, I’d go with Dominos as the lesser of the evils. Same with Subway, they didn’t have Boars Head down there (which is clearly the KING OF PROVISIONS) and the "deli’s", when they weren’t being shot up, would carry grade c boiled ham, and maybe some shrimp for po’ boys, so it wasn’t like their was a viable alternative. But in NYC where Boars Head and the best pizza anywhere outside of Italy lock down the motherfucking corners like 5’s when Jewlie started with that quality of life shit and your stupid ass is choosing Subway or Dominos, well I do say you deserve to be shot.

so I was thinking about things like going to the gym and dressing for success and learning to speak other languages and eating heathy and quiting smoking and drinking and coming to terms with myself and respecting others and things like that.

but fuck it. I decided that it was easier to lable all forms of self-improvement as a realization of insecurity. therefore by doing nothing positive whatsoever for myself as a person and barely maintaining my internal status-quo, what I’m really doing is saying "im comfortable in my own skin."

put that in your pipe and base it.
I agree, I am the man.

So, you know, I’m on my lunch break yesterday and rather than my normal smoke a cigarette and don’t eat lunch routine (fuck lunch, yo), I decide to be on some seize the day shit and walk the few blocks over to Central Park, as it was a nice day and all. So I walk west until I’m on the 5th Ave and i notice that they still got the bleachers up from (presumably) the Greek Independence Parade, so thats all interesting and whatnot, at least in the sense of obstructing my view and preventing my entrance to the park. Independence (ance?) from whom or what?? I was absent that day, I guess. ANYWAY, so I walk downtown a few blocks smoking my Parliament light 100 (charcol filtered…more on this later) and enjoying the fact that it wasn’t freezing cold anymore, and I stop to look over the playground on 67th. It was mad nice, all these little ass kids playing on the swings and there is this curvy metal slide. It briefly reminded me of my own youth (although I could have sworn I did things like go to pre-school during the day, hence my incredible intellectual foundation not to mention my immaculate spelling and adding skills, math son, math) and although St. Vartans park in midtown paled in comparison to Central Park (and even most dog-walking parks. people outside of the city don’t get how there are parks without one fucking inch of grass. oh excuse me, fenced off grass areas sprayed with rat posion count.) the memory of spending an early spring afternoon in the park was nice. Then I remembered all those episodes of Law and Order (aka the best show on TV, ever. shut the fuck up dawg, EVER.) that started with a child being grabbed out of the park by some ridiculously good looking kid wearing a North Face jacket and smoking a Parliament light 100, and rather than risk making one of the mothers (by which I mean babysitters) nervous and having them alert Briscoe and Logan, I just simply took my ass back up the 5th Ave. and returned to work to curse the Yankees for losing and the Mets for winning. That was yesterday and this is today. Today son, today.

So, like most educated white males I know, I spend a lot of my free time comming into contact with fucking lunatics and trying to understand where they are comming from. Last night after a thrilling poker game, where our humble hero and future leader of the free world (moi) was taken for 20$, (but got his bacon cheeseburger for only 3$ because no one had change) I’m on the downtown 1-9 train from the BX all the way to the deuce (22 stops, son) with one of my peoples.

Having an intimate knowledge of the transit system and not having drank two 40’s, my associate points out that by switching to the 2-3 train (which was across the platform) we can save time and arrive at the same destination quicker. (*it’s ideas like this that will help our country get its perverbial groove back)

So as we transfer at 96th street to the downtown 2, a tall homeless looking (you can never be too sure these days, what with it being cool to smell bad and yell horrible ideas at the top of your lungs. yes, columbia/nyu kids this means you) man wearing a backpack not made by one of the major backpack providers of my youth (eastpack, jansport, northface, ll bean) and looking as though he is going to begin explaining his plight in hopes of getting some $$$. Instead, he politely excuses himself as he makes his way to one end of the car, where my associate and I were standing, cleared his throat and began…

"We are in the neighborhood, and it is not hollywood…" and he kinda kept going on like this for a while, talking about how if you don’t want to be a good neighbor, you should move out of the neighborhood… and he made reference to 9/11, plungers, 41 shots, the war in Iraq and other "fun-filled" moments in RAH (recent american history, my patent is pending on this acronymn).. but he kept comming back to this hollywood vs. the neighborhood thing (he would tap his fingers loudly on the ceiling of the car whenever he came back to this main point) and this went on all the way from 96th-72nd street without him even asking for money. I’m not sure what everone else on the trains reaction to this was, most likely they were confused, not being english speakers themselves, but I was feeling him, it was like he had a vague idea of the topics he was going to cover, but was freestyling the order. To call his poem/speech disorganized would not be doing it justice. And I would be lying if I didn’t point out that I couldn’t make eye-contact with him or even really look-up without starting to giggle.  Anyway, he kept building up steam, and when my associate and I exited the train and descended into the bowels of time square for the 7, my man with the non-brand-name backpack was still going very strong, with no sign of stopping, or asking for money. Which is crazy.

So I’m just trying to figure out like, what his motivations and goals were in doing that. He seemed lucid enough to be aware of RAH (thats my patent-pending acronymn, recent american history, again) and formulate semi-poeticly vague sentiments regarding them. I feel like if anyone wanted to see some sort of interesting reality-show-like experience, they should ride the trains late at night. and I would say that the 1-2-3-9 are pretty civilived as far as train lines go, at least the 1-9 is(maybe they got rid of the 9, or are planning on it?). the real fun starts at 4am on the G-train.

*another fun fact about the world

I have another patent-pending acronymn out there, LPE or Least Possible Effort, aka what I’m putting forth in life.

me and ghostface have the same birthday.. may 9th… what??

you shook herbs dont got shit on us.

buy me presents. steal me gifts.

ROX ONE, A MAN OF MANY DISGUISES/
LOSER OF VIRGINITY, WINNER OF PRIZES/

yeah… fuck boston… the redsox, but also the city of Boston.. home of beer stores that close at 10pm, cold winters, horrible accents, worthless cops (not that we have some sort of good cops here in America, or NYC as we call it) and shook ass motherfuckers.

i also couldn’t help but notice how the entire mass-transit system in boston is some sort of homosexual meeting place, and im not saying that homosexuals shouldn’t have a place to meet, just that its kinda awkward for us hetero’s when they’re all trying to meet on the "t" or whatever and im just trying to buy a fucking 40 at 10:46pm.. I couldn’t get over this, a grown-ass man cannot walk into a store in boston after like 1030pm and buy a beer. its fucking amazing, and at the risk of sounding "shallow" or "like an alcoholic" fuck anyplace that you can’t buy beer at 24/7.. I TOLERATE that shit in nyc, from 4-12 on sunday morning, but most spots will let you live. in Boston, get this, they lock the fridges.

at least philly (which has its own problems with beer stores and an over abundance of soft-ass white kids) has cheesesteaks and blue collars. sometimes even cheesesteak reminants on their blue collars. and Beanie, a real dude, in jail for busting his gun. i would imagine boston has next to no gun violence, and thats always a good indicator of whether a city is worth a damn or not. you heard it here first.
murder=the shit.
no murder=no fun.

but back to the main point of this post, i am a man of many disguises.. i def. lost my good spelling wig though. and my civilization sunglasses.

grindcore 05.
www.chronikill.com -we’ll be playing at the conference of cardinals!!

you know, the fucking kids these days don’t have much to look forward to in terms of commercial jingles. I remember when I was young in the fucking 1980’s and early 90’s they had a lot of shit you could really get behind and believe in, from a commercial standpoint. I mean, I guess like ipod and shit has some music in their ads, but its not the same. I’m talking about like:

the old gatorade, I want to be like Mike shit. Man, that was fly.

Gillette, the best a man can get. I wanted to grow facial hair so badly just so I could shave. This was before all the metrosexual mach-3 bullshit.

The childrens aid society. You aren’t really from NYC if you don’t know what I’m talking about. FEEL ME??

yo, you know how when you "log out" of friendster, and click on the button on the upper right hand corner??

am I the only person who sings "log-out" to themselves in the same tune that the (post-Puff) Lox song "wild out" went?

when myspace is done updating, ill share "all" "my" "quality" "ideas".

ROX ONE…. no bird has shit on me since the early 90’s.