Art Major

You look at that body. You look at that body as if it were some abstract work of art, stare at it from every conceivable point of view in search of deeper meanings and textures. Why, you ask yourself, is this body here? What did the artist leave out? What did he put in? What was the artist thinking of? What the hell is wrong with this picture?

I finally finished Homicide: A Year On The Killing Streets late last night. And boy, what a read. I don't know that you could get any more into the minds and lives of homicide detectives without living with them yourself.

Once of the things that struck me was the absolute detachment with which the detectives view their jobs. This is not how they make it look on TV or in the movies. Police detectives are often depicted as becoming emotionally attached to their victims. They're shown to take the crimes personally. With few exceptions, this is not the case. As Simon writes, "A good investigator, leaning over a fresh obscenity, doesn't waste time and effort battering himself with the theological questions about the nature of evil and man's inhumanity to man. He wonders instead whether the jagged wound pattern is the result of a serrated blade, or whether the discoloration on the underside of the leg is indeed an indication of lividity...that professional ethos is part of what keeps any detective from the horror..."

This only makes sense. Even though the book is really about the men who investigate these crimes, you learn plenty about the crimes and criminals themselves. And if you didn't know it before, you will learn that there is no limit to what one human being will do to another, given the proper motivation. So, how else to survive in a job like this? How do you remain sane when day after day you immerse yourself in the absolute evil of the world? Gallows humor. Detachment. Separation. That body on the ground is not a human being, but a piece of evidence. As fascinating as the job is to me, I don't think I could do it.

Anyway, I could go on and on. If you are even slightly interested in the subject, I strongly recommend reading this book.

The Great Swindle

I've already talked about getting older. This is different. Sort of. But yesterday at work, I had a moment where I felt like I have pulled the wool over the collective eyes of the world. An epiphany, if you will. I've tricked people into believing I'm someone else. Someone...responsible. An adult.

You see, despite my argument that video games have become the pastime of grownups, I still don't feel like one. I'm the same goofy kid that attempted to steal a trash can from the local mall. That's right, a trash can! We'll talk about that some other time. Maybe.

But my point is, I still laugh at farts. C'mon, they're funny! I still laugh at jokes concerning most bodily functions and, hell I'll say it, body parts. If someone says something that is completely innocuous but can be turned into a double entendre, I do it in a heartbeat. The other night at dinner, my former roommate's fiance said, in front of him and me, that she didn't like sucking. I'll leave it to you to imagine what our reactions were. I find it difficult to take anything seriously. I'm one of the most sarcastic people you'll ever meet. If someone leaves me an opportunity to turn something they said into an insult against them, I usually do it without thinking. Seriously, it's gotten me in trouble at times. I'm a kid.

So, all of this and I've somehow managed to con people into thinking that I am some responsible citizen who can be trusted with all kinds of stuff. I stood up from my desk at work yesterday and looked around the office and realized that I don't just have a job, I have what's turning into a career. I've been there for two and a half years. In that time, I've received one promotion and I'll hopefully be getting another one in the next year or two. I get paid a decent amount of money to do what I do. Not great money, but decent enough for a guy without a college degree. Not only that, but they've given me pretty high access to information that is sensitive. Social Security Numbers and income levels and all that. If I were a dishonest individual, I could do some bad things. Hell, a few months ago a bank decided to give me $100,000 to buy a house! Me! That's a lot of money.

So I'm slowly being surrounded by all this evidence that I'm becoming a responsible adult and I can't help but feel like I've fooled everyone. It's surreal, in a way.

Will this feeling ever go away? I suppose that it does for some people. Maybe most people. But it's hard to imagine not ever feeling like this. If I do ever get married, I can see myself still feeling this way about everything but then just adding the question, How did I ever trick this poor woman into believing that I'm marriage material? I can see myself with a kid and thinking, Who decided that it would be a good idea to let me be involved in the raising of a human life?

And I can for damn sure see myself at 70 years old, laughing uncontrollably at my own farts. Which, at that age, will probably be just as uncontrollable as the laughing.

My Man Crush Continues

I continue to develop man-love for David Simon.

This weekend, the manifestation of this love was a trip to Barnes & Noble to purchase three books. I haven't bought a book since I got my library card and starting devouring novels at a ridiculous rate. These three purchases are all non-fiction and I had no qualms about laying down hard-earned....well, earned....cash for them. Here they are in the order I will be reading them.

Homicide: A Year On The Killing Streets

Simon was a reporter for the Baltimore Sun. He spent a year with a squad of homicide detectives with the Baltimore Police Department. The book became the basis for the NBC television show Homicide: Life On The Street which was my favorite show of all time until the David Simon-created show The Wire aired on HBO. I'm about 150 pages in and so far it is a fantastic book. This guy can write. Already, there have been two or three cases that I remember were used in the first season of the show. Truth is, as they say, stranger than fiction.

The Corner: A Year In The Life Of An Inner-City Neighborhood

After following the police, Simon spends a year with the people that live and work on the drug corners of Baltimore. Apparently, a lot of the information he learned writing this book was used in the fourth season of The Wire which, as I mentioned in the previous post about the show, is a genuine masterpiece. The Book was made into a miniseries that aired on HBO back in 2000 that I'm attempting to get my hands on.

Generation Kill

Rolling Stone writer Evan Wright rolled into Iraq in the opening days of the invasion with a group of Marines. The book was also turned (by David Simon) into an HBO miniseries that is currently airing on Sunday nights. Two parts have aired so far and I'm enjoying them a lot. Movies and television shows about a war that is still in progress have fared poorly. This show may not be any different, but I can tell you that so far, it is not preachy at all. It is focusing a lot on the young Marines in the squadron.

More proof, as far as I'm concerned, that David Simon can do no wrong.

Yes, I Play Video Games, Shut The Hell Up Already

A year or two ago, my former roommate went out on a date with some chick that he met...somewhere. I can't be any more specific than that because he actually doesn't remember her. When I reminded him of this story, he didn't remember it at all. Must have been a great date, right?

So, she meets him at our apartment and at the time she arrives, I'm sitting on the couch winding down after work, as I often do, playing a video game. Now, this girl has never met me before. She doesn't know me from Adam. So what are the first words out of her mouth? Something along the lines of "Video games? Really? How old are you guys?" How rude are some people? This chick had the nerve to walk into someplace where she was a guest and belittle someone she'd never met because of how they spend their free time. Now that I think about it, she shoots to number one on the list of People Who Need To Be Punched In The Neck.

I'm pretty sure the response that first entered my mind was an R-rated string of invective. But, and I know you'll be shocked at this, I held my tongue and ignored her since she and my roommate were heading back out the door and I assumed at that point that maybe he could get some action and I didn't want to ruin it. Although, again, based on the fact that he doesn't remember her, that probably didn't happen.

But the point is: Yes, world, I'm thirty-one and I enjoy playing video games in my leisure time and I'd appreciate it if you would just shut the hell up about it already.

The whole stigma of adults playing video games has always been sort of baffling to me. I don't really understand why one form of mindless entertainment is superior to another. Do you mean to tell me that spending 3 nights a week sitting on your couch watching American Idol is more intellectually stimulating than me being in a game, interacting with real people and sometimes working and cooperating with those people to achieve a goal? Yes, the goal is virtual and denoted by a bunch of pixels on a screen and is meaningless in the grand scheme of things, but the point remains. I may even go so far as to say that interacting with real people over the Internet is more beneficial than sitting and watching ET every night because you absolutely have to know what's happening right this very minute with OMG ANGELINA JOLIE'S TWINS!

But video games are the diversion of adolescent boys, right? As they say, never let the facts get in the way of a good argument. But let's go ahead and look at some facts, shall we? The Entertainment Software Association just released the findings from their annual demographics survey. Here's a few interesting points:

• 65 percent of American households play computer and video games;
• The average game player is 35 years old;
• One out of four gamers are over age 50;
• Forty percent of gamers are women;
  
• Women age 18 or older represent a significantly greater portion of the game-playing population (33 percent) than boys age 17 or younger (18 percent).

That's right! I'm actually younger than the average game player! So suck it, random chick!

This really shouldn't surprise anyone capable of using even the simplest logic. People born in the 70's are the people who were playing Activision and Atari and the first Nintendo and the Sega Genesis in the 80's. And those people are now in their thirties. It makes perfect sense that the hobbies and pastimes of our youth would be similar to the hobbies and pastimes we have in adulthood. I'm pretty sure that The Sims is as close to an adult version of playing with dolls as there is. There are video games these days that are written and tailored specifically to adults, games that are essentially interactive movies. I think it's high time that non-gamers come down off their pedestal and find another group to criticize so they can feel good about themselves. The day is fast approaching when they will be in the minority.

Yes, video games can have a negative effect. Yes, video games can become addictive. Just like watching television! Or smoking crack! Almost everything in existence can be addictive. Gaming, like any other pastime, requires self-control. And yes, of course the games that young kids play need to be regulated by their parents, not our Big Brother government. But there is nothing in that regard that sets video games apart from music, television, or movies.

Video games are here to stay as a mainstream form of entertainment. And, yes, that makes ME mainstream. Difficult concept to grasp, I know. You can come the next time I have a group of friends over to play Rock Band and we can talk about it.

Addicted To Words

It seems like when it comes to reading, people really only need to be divided into two categories: readers and non-readers. Either you love reading and really enjoy spending time reading a good book or you don't. There doesn't seem to be much of an in between area.

I've wondered what it is that makes some people readers and some not. People who read may be considered, by some, to be more intellectual but I don't think that has much to do with it. I know plenty of people who are intelligent, thoughtful people but have, at some point, used the phrase, "I"m not much of a reader." Does it come down to the whole Nature vs. Nurture thing? I can't remember anything specific that my parents did, any sort of tradition that would have pushed me in the direction of being a reader. I know that my sisters enjoy reading now but I don't think they devoured books as voraciously as I did when I was a kid.

It seems like I was reading books almost right from the womb. I have clear memories of myself as a kid standing next to my bed, getting ready to go wherever, but being slowed in my task considerably by the fact that there was an open book on the bed that I continued to read as I dressed. I could not stop.

Unfortunately (at least today, anyway), that hasn't changed in adulthood. Last night, I headed off to bed at about midnight, which is my normal time. This is the life of a night owl. I often hear newly married people talk about how now that they are married, they go to bed at 9 or 10 o'clock and I just mark it down as one more reason not to get married. I may be part vampire. Anyway, my typical nighttime once-I'm-in-bed ritual is to read for 10 or 15 minutes from whatever book I'm reading at the moment and then turn the light off and go to sleep. I'd always love to keep reading but because I'm not spoiled and don't have the ability to work from home, I have to get up at 7 and be to work by 8. But last night, I absolutely could not stop. I'm currently reading this book and it just so happened that the part I started reading last night was when the story was getting really, really REALLY DAMN GOOD and I could not stop reading until around 2:30 in the morning. And believe me, when your job involves sitting in front of a computer monitor all day, having 4 hours of sleep SUCKS. It is impossible not to get Old-man-at-church Syndrome (also called MY-DAD Syndrome) and start worrying that your neck is going to snap the next time you nod off. I wanted to stop. Even as I was reading, the thought was in the back of my mind that I was going to have a really hard time at work today. However, the front of my mind was saying SHUT THE HELL UP BACK THERE. I NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS NEXT. So I kept reading. And yes, work really sucked today. And I'm almost done with the book so it's for sure going to happen again tonight and there isn't a thing I can do about it.

So, are you a reader? What do you think made you or didn't make you a reader?

Two Cats For The Price of One

Since over at M2M it's been all, new dog this and cute puppy that!, I figure it's time for a balanced opinion.

I like cats better than dogs. It's true! Most people I know find this odd but it's the truth. Growing up we always had a dog. We did get a couple of cats when I was in high school but they were outside cats so we didn't get to see them as much. Maybe that's why I grew up with a preference to cats. You always want what you don't have, right?

But now, cats just seem more logical to me as a pet. Dogs slobber. Dogs are always jumping all over people. Some dogs can be damn loud. A friend of mine has a dog with an absolutely eardrum-rupturing bark. No matter how clean people keep their dogs, it seems that if you spend a couple of minutes petting it your hands always end up smelling like...well, dog. Even clean dogs have a dog smell.

Cats, on the other hand, are much quieter than dogs. They are cleaner than dogs. They require almost no training as to where they are supposed to do their business. They don't smell. If you don't neglect the litter box, it won't smell either.

Really, though. Is it any surprise to anyone that I prefer a pet that is generally aloof and a loner? It really shouldn't.

So 7 years ago I moved out of a house I had been sharing with several friends and into my own apartment. And I decided to get a cat. The process of obtaining a cat is a lot less stressful than getting a dog. People getting dogs obsess over the breed and size and etc. Is this breed good with kids? Is this breed going to end up the size of a horse? Is there a chance that this breed is going to one day decide to use one of the neighbors as a chew toy? When someone decides to get a cat, usually what you do is just find someone whose cat just had kittens and they give you one. Boom, you've got a cat.

So that's what I did. A coworker's cat had just had kittens so I took one pretty much right after he was weened. Because my favorite comic was and still is Calvin and Hobbes, it was only natural that he be named Hobbes. And in those 7 years, this


has turned into this.


Believe me, that second picture does not properly illustrate how stupidly big he has become. He is a beast.

The reason I'm posting about him now is that he just yesterday arrived at the new house to live with me. He got here at about 3:30 or so and promptly went under the couch and didn't come out until 12:30 am. You see, for the last two years, I've been living with a roommate that is allergic to cats. So Hobbes has been living with my parents. Now that I'm alone, however, my parents felt it was time to transfer ownership back to me and so here he is.

Now, the thing that I have learned after owning him is that while I prefer cats over dogs, I prefer having NO pets over both. I think that this will be the last pet I ever own. It's not that he's a bad pet. He's even pretty amusing sometimes. The problem with him is his HAIR. HAIR EVERYWHERE! This is why I don't want a pet ever again. Who knows what mix of breeds Hobbes is but it is clear that he is closer to a long-haired breed than a short-haired one. I even bought one of these in anticipation of his arrival. They're supposed to be great at reducing shedding. So once Hobbes adjusted to the new house and decided to come out from under the couch, I took him into the kitchen and used it on him. For like, 20 minutes. This is what I ended up with last night.

Seriously! Look at all that! I used the damn thing on him again this morning for about 10 minutes and got another pile about a third of the size of that one. It shows no signs of stopping! I've removed enough hair from this little bastard to create another cat! I'm eventually going to have a completely naked cat, right? That is a ridiculous amount of hair.

I suppose I'll keep using it on him daily for the next couple of weeks and hope that it slows down. But I can see I'm going to be vacuuming this place a lot more often than I would have to otherwise.

But honestly, I'm fine with having him. He is amusing at times. He spent the night by my feet under the blanket. My house is near the airport and I think the airplane noises might be freaking him out a little. At one point this morning I kicked him out and he looked at me like WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TRYING TO DO, GET ME KILLED? and immediately burrowed right back under there.

So there he is. Meet Mr. Hobbes. This will be the last time (probably) I post about him. Be grateful.

Spreading My Nonsense All Over The Web

My good friend, Shannon, asked me to be a guest blogger on her site.

I agreed. You can read it here.

More From My Lovely Coworkers!

Overheard today from one of my female coworkers:

"Man, I'm having a hot flash! Does anyone here want a couple of ovaries and a uterus?"

My response was a blank stare with a dash of horrified look.