Look people, we’re not idiots. But we come pretty close. And it’s disturbing how many people in this country still believe in the fried egg theory of drug use. You know, the theory that drug use is like frying an egg and then not only destroying the egg, but an entire kitchen full of dishware and cutlery? And not smashed around by just anyone. Smashed around by a mentally ill, but hot girl circa 1998. Huh?

Anti-drug ads are the most hopelessly misguided, cheesy, and profoundly uncool bits of science fiction churned out by the TV. And they usually beg two questions. One - Was it the drug or the personality that made a teen phone his ex girlfriend totally crunked and act like a pathetic ass? Two, why are we so comfortable with our government bleeding our paychecks dry in the name its own concocted myths? The kind of myths that are based on something like 5% of the science.

*Folks, I’m mostly talking about weed here. I acknowledge that cocaine is a hell of a drug.

If the war on drugs has taught us anything, it’s that there’s still a crapload of pot. In fact, many times more than the amount that was present at that silly Woodstock thing. And yes, we’ve seen plenty of degenerates stab their fingers in disrespectful menace at their own democratic representative over this plant. But it seems like great majority of the people in this country have never been that adversely affected by that wacky green weed to be so motivated against it.

So maybe it’s time the government didn’t sponsor really lame ads. Ads that elevate the story of a random nut who shot his friends instead of eating Doritos to the level of a massive threat to the rest of us who don’t mix mental illness and guns. And it’s time we stopped being cool with that. Maybe you should be a little annoyed that the government sponsors people to make these ads. And somehow those brilliant filmmakers missed the news that something like 93 out of a hundred folks who study weed for a living say - well, there ain’t nothing really too bad about it.

So maybe with some ads that don’t treat us like toddlers or the senile - maybe at the very least, we won’t be as inclined to act like a bunch of total jackasses. Because seriously, when we believe this pile of an elephant’s gift to the dung beetle, we’re being jackasses. Brazen jackasses that support something that wastes way more money than’s needed. Not this time, when every time we applaud a penny spent on something stupid gets China a minute closer to owning our future.

And if there’s a way of throwing a lasso on that horrible process and slowing it down...one that usually at worst only makes people buy way too much E.L. Fudge...then I say we’re idiots if we don’t support it.

Honestly folks, try reading about weed.

*photo by Aubergene on Flickr Creative Commons

Centrism is a word you hardly hear. Centrism doesn’t whip people up, boil blood, sell news, or necessarily move mountains. To many, centrism is at the very least boring and at worst, a pipe dream that’s too hard to reach and ultimately too weak to succeed.

The political centrist is a black sheep of both parties, hated when stepping into the other’s territory, but welcomed when stepping back. The centrist is a chameleon, constrained by no one interest, but at the same time, bound by consideration of all. The centrist is guided by one certainty: that he or she has chosen a difficult path. A path that will lead to a position of never being fully embraced or disowned. The centrist inhabits the political ether that defies easy definition, where soundbites don’t stick, flip-flopping is meaningless, and action is governed by the facts of the past, feeling of the present, and best guesses at the future. As the most fluid and most able to build coalitions, The centrist is arguably the most powerful piece on the political chess board.

Unfortunately for all of us, the centrist is a rare animal. And we’re to blame for that.

We’ve made politics into the shouting match that it is. We’ve supported through our votes and rallies, the principle that majority takes all and minority be damned. And in this age of razor-thin electoral margins and polarization, we’ve settled entirely into either the majority or minority role at any given moment. Because of this refusal to budge from our respective side, we’re locked in an everlasting process of trying to pull the pendulum as far back to our side as we can once we regain the momentum to do so.

We’re at a pivotal stage in global politics. It’s a time when catastrophe is the word of the day. It’s a moment when we can do any number of things and walk on any number of paths. And if we keep wrenching the pendulum further and further from its center point, we might eventually break it entirely to the point where our political process no longer works. If we want to avoid that, then we need to start asking some important questions.

The simplest is, why do we seem to want cooperation in politics, yet elect those who are incapable of it? Why do we support an all-or-nothing approach so adamantly while screaming for bipartisanship? Well, you certainly don’t accomplish “bipartisan solutions” by electing die-hard conservatives or liberals to office. I think we need to ask ourselves, do we desire bipartisanship out of a genuine desire for unity and a collaborative political process, or do we simply want the other side to be more like our side? It seems to me that the only reason that the word “bipartisan” exists is as a final, unconscious plea for the centrism that we’ve so rudely rejected.

I’m a centrist for a number of reasons. I find orthodox liberals and conservatives foolish because under either scenario of their strict majority, the world doesn’t work. Look no further than the current global damage to economies, the environment, and international relations brought about by unbridled deregulation, lack of scientific scruples, and hawkish foreign policy. But before you focus too much on the failings of the right, shoot a glance at the damage to state economies brought about by endless spending in good times, the exodus of jobs under the burden of higher taxes, and the looming fiscal catastrophes in the systems of entitlements. If both political sides ignore the problems created by their own, then you get a situation where nobody is right, yet nobody is wrong. That’s not exactly a recipe for good decision making.

I am a centrist because I loathe extremism. Whether it’s an activist throwing a molotov cocktail at an animal research facility or a religious fanatic shooting an abortion doctor in church, I oppose those who act out their ideologies with hatred, violence, and ignorance. I oppose them because I myself was guilty and I have the good sense now to feel shame at my past actions. I don’t have to look farther than my own writings where I’ve spit venom at people I’ve never met to support positions I never truly took the time to think over.

But on a more basic level, being a centrist immunizes me from supporting foolish ideas simply because some in a party do. Ideas like halting all animal research, returning to a gold standard, abolishing taxes, withdrawing troops from unstable regions, or denying climate change. Compromising principles and ignoring facts is not up my alley, so centrism is the logical conclusion.

And I don’t think I’m alone. I don’t honestly think that half my country believes one thing and the other half believes another with no mixing and matching. And that’s what gives me hope that we’ll migrate out of our comfort zone into closer range of those we call our enemies who labor and live under the same flag.

Centrism is not inaction. It’s not weakness. It’s not sitting on the fence or dancing on third base when the catcher drops the ball. Centrism is strength through adaptation, understanding, and willingness to listen. And centrism in politics, thought, life, and action is what will save this nation and indeed, the world itself.

*photo by Worak on Flickr Creative Commons

Health Care is the topic of the summer in these United States. There’s no way to avoid hearing about it. 24-hour news networks have devoted up to half of their coverage to it. Senior citizens are stabbing the air and screaming at representatives at town hall meetings about it. The airwaves are peppered with images of sad children, Jewish bureaucrats, and people’s heads being squeezed by higher taxes, all in the name of the health care debate.

At the base of all of this is the “health care crisis,” in which projected costs and premiums are expected to spike to unsustainable levels over the next decade in America. Thus, the Democratic majority in Congress has started to flesh out a health care overhaul plan that Republicans are against. And in true American fashion, we’ve all flocked to our respective sides to commence shouting at the other.

But as all of this is unfolding amidst trillion dollar proposals and ever-inflating bellies, I find myself asking the following question. If America is in such trouble with health care, why don’t we just get healthier?

Such a statement is invariably met with an array of exceptions. Some people are predisposed to obesity! Some people can’t afford nutritious food! Some people don’t have the information about how to live a healthy lifestyle! Some people don’t have time to exercise!

That’s right. Some people are burdened with a bad hand when it comes to genetics. Others are so poor that they can’t afford fruits, vegetables, or whole grains. Some in rural or urban areas are burdened by a lack of access to the internet or other outlets of information on healthy lifestyles. And some people are so choked with work or family responsibilities that they have narry a minute to exercise.

But those people are a MINORITY. To say otherwise is to foolishly absolve the majority’s complicity in this whole mess. You’re saying that in the U.S., a full 1/3 of its citizens are obese because of genetic disposition? You’re telling me that as a whole, a nation that bought 12 million Xbox 360’s can’t afford a bag of brown rice or some carrots? You’re saying that a nation that manages to watch an average of four hours of television a day can’t find 15 minutes to go for a jog? You’re alleging that in a nation where 3/4 of citizens have access to the internet at home don’t have adequate information on a healthy lifestyle?

If you are, then you’re missing a glaring truth in all of this that few want to acknowledge, let alone address. While it’s clear that incomplete health care coverage in the U.S. is a contributing factor to our health care woes, merely extending coverage to everybody isn’t going to solve much of anything in the long term. Yet both Democrats and Republicans have decided to point the finger at each other rather than at the root of the problem. Us.

There has been limited talk of incentivizing people to live healthy lives through reform measures. Underneath the massive overhaul plan that no one quite understands, but understands enough to oppose or support, is the buzz about the health plan instituted by Safeway. The grocery store chain introduced a number of healthy incentives a few years back through which employees get perks and lower premiums if they can demonstrate they smoke less, lose weight, and exercise.

The model is something that’s sorely needed in the health care debate, a plan that not only gives people health coverage, but incentives to quit smoking, pass on the chips, and get off the couch. But the very idea of NEEDING such a system makes me uneasy. Is it not enough that there’s a health care crisis in America, where costs have been projected to triple in the coming years? Is it not enough that so much GDP will be devoted to health care that our economy is nearing the precipice of implosion? Is it not enough that healthier nations will gain competitive advantage in the global market, leaving us far behind?

Apparently not. Rather than Americans waking up to the fact that the gargantuan cost of health care is directly correlated with our own lousy lifestyles, we’re demanding a way to continue it on the cheap. We’re essentially holding ourselves hostage until our elected officials “show us the money.” Before we take the trans fat gun away from our brains, we’re demanding that the government pay us for the very act of moderation that we should be employing out of our own patriotic duty.

I’ve yet to see a single commercial exhorting Americans to eat better or exercise for their country. All I see are commercials portraying us as the victim in a grand scheme perpetrated either by government or insurance giants. And if that kind of illusory approach continues, then I don’t see this nation becoming anything but unhealthier, ripped to pieces under the weight of our collective midsections.

Come on folks, it’s not like you’re being asked to pick up a rifle and fight for your country. Just get off your ass and eat a vegetable once in a while. It’s really not that hard.

*photo by colros on Flickr Creative Commons

I’ve had it with going green. I’m sick of the obsessive drive I’ve had for years to reduce my impact on the earth to zero. Does that mean I’m just going to screw the future and party while the earth burns? No. It just means I’m not going any further than I already have.

Here’s a snapshot of green me. I believe climate change is a grim reality that requires urgent and sweeping action. I run two websites devoted to educating others about urgent and diverse ecological issues. Half the clothes I wear I’ve owned for over 5 years and I don’t buy many new gadgets or appliances. I’ve had my desktop computer for seven years and my one and only cell phone is about to turn 3 in August. I drive a fuel-efficient car, take the metro whenever I can, walk like a nomad, and only take two short flights a year. I don’t have children. I wash my clothes with cold water and use natural cleaners. I turn lights off when I’m not using them, turn off my oven for the last few minutes of cooking, and buy produce in season. I recycle compulsively, take navy showers, and even have a brick sitting in my toilet tank to reduce my water usage with each flush.

Those are just a few things I’ve done in order to help the global effort to use less and conserve more. But there are some things that I simply won’t do and am going to stop trying.

One thing I’m not going to do is go vegetarian or vegan. I’ve tried it two or three times and I have no remorse declaring what a monumental load of suckage it was. Tofu, veggie burgers, and imitation meat are all disgusting in varying degrees. Tofu is good in stir-fry, but not much else. It’s annoying as hell to dry out sopping-wet blocks of it, get marinades to stick to it, and cook cubes of it evenly. Why the hell would I hassle myself trying to make a soggy pan of neon-yellow scrambled tofu when I can just throw some organic, cage-free eggs in there and have a satisfying meal? Why would I choke down whatever the hell a veggie burger is when I can just cut down on the amount of hamburgers I consume?

I suppose I don’t literally NEED meat, but I nearly do. It’s biologically very difficult for me to subsist on a vegetarian diet. I’m not a petite, slim girl who can get away with a dinner of edamame and some steamed quinoa. I’m a 6′2″ athletic man whose metabolism has run like a proton accelerator for his whole life. I need several thousand calories a day and I need protein. Yes, I do drink supplements, but I sometimes like to nibble on something other than chocolate-flavored powder. I love meat. It’s the cornerstone of signature dishes in nearly all ethnic cuisine. And since I love to cook and enjoy that facet of humanity, I’m going to eat meat. A couple of days a week I’ll whip up some meatless chili, stuffed shells, or grilled portabello caps. I’ll continue my avoidance of fast food and processed meat. But that’s it.

I’m also not going to drop hundreds of dollars on expensive green do-dads like solar chargers, portable wind turbines, or new appliances. I eke out a living on a nonprofit salary supplemented by the money I manage to scrub writing penny blogs like these. I rent, so it doesn’t make sense for me to splurge on an energy star washer and dryer when I’m likely to move out the next year. And given I only have a pittance left over from my paycheck after taxes, loan payments, and insurance, you can be damn sure I’m going to spend it on booze and music, not on something that will save the world 0.1 kw of electicity in a year.

But most importantly, I’m not going to deny that I live in the United States. Because of our infrastructure and energy options available, there’s only so much I can do to have a comparable carbon footprint to someone in Burundi or Ed Begley. The plain truth is, I don’t WANT to live like someone in Burundi and I don’t think I should be expected to. I like medicine, rapid transportation, nutritious food, and other amenities that my country provides. And while I’ll gladly exercise, drive less, and reduce my meat consumption, I’m not going to give up those amenities entirely out of guilt of living in a developed nation.

So, I’ve had it with going greener than I’ve already gone. I’m not going to continue to try and squeeze out a fart of carbon savings from my already reduced usage and make my life miserablely obsessive in the process. I’m going to reduce as much as I can and pay for a couple hundred dollars worth of carbon offsets a year. That covers double the amount I produce and I’m glad to pay for it in order to help reduce emissions, reforest the world, help with conservation efforts, and spur alternative energy projects. But I’m not going to become a nut-crunching ascetic, especially not if a majority of the people in my country are more inclined to believe in the tooth fairy than global warming. I’ll do my part, but I’m not going to give up my life just to make up for someone else’s intransigence. And I’m not going to be lectured to by people who can go commendably go farther than me, but attack me for not following suit. I’m greener than most. Live with it.

*photo by clurr on Flickr Creative Commons

I was a music critic for two years. When I started out, I was certain it was going to be my career path. By the end of the road, I was loathing myself and my writing more than I’d ever had in my life.

I had started to hate what I’d become a part of. And the biggest beef I had was that most music critics that get any kind of exposure don’t write like music enthusiasts. They write like essayists. The bulk of music reviews don’t read like a personal thoughts on a piece of artwork. They read like notes on a frog dissection. And like hundreds of other music journalists, I wrote like a frog dissector.

I don’t want to rip other people’s writing, so I’ll illustrate with an example of my own. Here’s how I’d describe my thoughts on Dinosaur Jr’s new track “Over It” in writing now:

“I really like the way J. Mascis hits the rhythm with his wah pedal. I whipped out the ol’ air guitar on that one.”

And here’s how I would have written it when I was writing music reviews:

“Guitarist J. Mascis’ wah pedal careens over Murph’s skull-shattering rhythms in a true return to “Green Mind”-era form.”

The difference is pretty apparent. The first bit reads like my thoughts on the song. The second reads like something out of a encyclopedia. Or something Robert Christgau writes. Sorry dude, I said I didn’t want to rip certain writers, but you’ve ruined music writing...probably forever. So many people emulate your writing, it’s a crime. Reading your stuff is like masturbating to an anatomy diagram.

It’s because of music writers’ self consciousness that such clunky stuff becomes the staple diet of the music press and can make or break a band. When I was writing reviews, I always felt like I had an English teacher hovering over me with a red pen, threatening to rip my “thesis statement,” my metaphors, or my grammar to pieces. So instead of writing like a music lover, I wrote like a college student. And I’m definitely not alone in this. If you read music reviews from Rolling Stone, Pitchfork, Prefix, Spin, or any other major publication, you get the impression that the writers are desperately trying NOT to sound like the common man, but H.L. Mencken with headphones.

The first person is never used. Words like “like,” “love,” and “had fun” are never mentioned. The word “song” is almost never written. Instead, expect to find “track,” “ditty,” “shimmy,” “waltz,” and “expose.” Reviews without stars, decimal points, or numbers to quantify their worth are rare. And it’s nearly impossible to read a music review, especially on Pitchfork or Stylus, without finding the word “esque” tacked to the name of other bands to provide comparison. Worth is measured by comparison, knowledge of music history, or familiarity with obscure bands with indie cred.

And finally, LIKING a band, an album, or a song, seems to be avoided like the plague. There is no “I enjoyed,” only “such-and-such an album is an enjoyable experience.” There is only approval and disapproval. The function of most music journalism is to either rip bands for sucking or elevate good work to the annals of music history. And there are plenty of times when a reviewer is too afraid to take either side. Ever wonder why so many reviews on Pitchfork hover in the 5.9-6.8 range? It’s not because it’s a mediocre album. It’s because the reviewer doesn’t want to look stupid if he’s “wrong.” I know this because I wrote for two zines with decimal systems.

But at its core, most music criticism, like any form of art criticism is inherently mean-spirited. It doesn’t function as feedback. It serves the reviewer, not the work. And it was when I realized this that I knew I couldn’t write music criticism any more. In the end, you’re writing about and sometimes tearing down something that is near and dear not only to the songwriters, but the listeners they’ve touched.

Of course, that hits to the heart of opinion journalism in general. I’d argue that music is different. Visual art, film, television, and even literature don’t come close to permeating the human experience like music does. Because of that, opinion beyond casual conversation with friends becomes nearly irrelevant. Because more than any other medium, music reaches people. And I think other music journalists should ask the question that I asked myself. “Why the hell is MY opinion any more important than theirs?”

I’d say to anyone who wants to write about music, don’t write to get noticed. It’s not good for anyone. Write the way you write in a journal, thoughts near and dear to you. Not others. Leave the musical experience open for those who want to find it.

*photo by [nati] on Flickr Creative Commons

In a beloved film from my childhood, “Flight of Dragons,” the scientist hero confronts the evil red magician on a dark crag. As menacing snakes sprout out of the magician’s neck and breathe fire at the scientist, the spectacled nerd definantly stands up to the wizard and says three simple words, “I deny you.” Sneering, the magician retorts, “deny ME, and you deny ALL magic.”

In the real world, the reverse has actually been true for the past decade, if not longer. The magician has been denying the scientist. The sad thing is, stastically, more than half of the United States is still self-proclaimed magician when it comes to climate science. And unfortunately, it’s screwing us all over.

Climate change denial receives far less press than say Holocaust denial, but arguably, it’s much more damaging to the world in our modern age. Climate change denial is rife in every segment of society, from the sneering pundit to the living rooms of middle America, churches, and message boards. And because so many people don’t “believe” in the global consensus built on decades of hard research, we’re at risk of a very rude awakening and a whole lot of misery.

I’m not going to beat around the bush. If you deny the work of climatologists, you deny all science in the process. If climatology as a field is “junk science,” then how is geology, physics, biology, or even medicine any more factual or “right?” Why are you any more likely to believe a spot test for strep throat than you are an ice-core sample analysis of carbon dioxide trends? Why are you more likely to trust computer models of hurricane formation than a computer model of projected sea level rise? Are you more likely to believe one oncologist (a cancer scientist) who says you don’t have cancer than the 99 others who say you do?

I’m not denying there’s plenty of bad science. There’s shoddy research, dubious conclusions, and ulterior motives in every field of the scientific discipline. But bad science is the work of individuals, not a field. That’s the beauty of how science works. It weeds out crackpots and careless work by virtue of peer review, future trials, further evaluation, and so forth. That’s why to me, it seems far more likely that the “junk science” is the 5%, not the 95%.

Which brings me to my final point. Climate change denial infuriates me not only because it’s helping the Atlantic Ocean on its way to my basement, but because it debases scientists. It’s a slap in the face. It’s embarrassing to see so many people so quick to dismiss the work of experts in a reputable field they know little to nothing about. It’s criminal how one’s allegiance to a particular cable news channel or political party trumps the very idea of logical sense. It’s an insult to the researcher spending months away from his family on a crag of ice in blizzard-swept Antarctica. It’s an affront to the scientist spending long days at sea collecting ocean samples. And it’s spitting in the face of brilliant men and women from diverse fields who are trying to stave off a catastrophe that can and will affect nearly everyone on this planet if we let it.

But the really sad thing about this is, it’s us. It’s our future. It’s our future and YOUR children’s future and it’s being thrown further and further away from any chance at fixing it. And it’s happening because we as workers, parents, and people choose what science we feel like believing. And that is PROFOUNDLY fucked up, my fellow Americans.

The fight of the century! In this corner, the disgraced former governor of New York, Eliot Spitzer! And in this corner, the soon-to-be former governor of South Carolina, Mark Sanford! I’m sure the bloggers are going to be out in force comparing these two for any host of reasons, so I figured I’d get a leg up on the landscape and offer my own thoughts. Sure, these sex scandals are similar, but there are a few important differences.

One is how the scandal plays out in the imagination. Sanford’s not a bad looking fella. Spitzer is. When I visualize Sanford’s scandal going down, I’m picturing him with that Spanish Bond girl from “Casino Royale” on some sun-swept Argentinian beach. When I visualize Spitzer’s scandal, it looks more like bad gonzo porn. A balding guy twice the girl’s age, a girl who’s not really into it...and hiked-up argyle socks.

Then there’s the ethical difference. Spitzer paid a call girl for sex. Sanford had unpaid consensual sex with someone he’d known for years. Granted they’re both hypocrites because they had campaigned against the activity they eventually exploited themselves, but Spitzer broke the law. Sanford screwed around legally and will probably just end up with the dead marriage and dead career.

I think the one thing to take away from both of these stories is that most politicians are no better than we are when it comes to their personal lives. A lot of us are at least prone to fantasizing about others, maybe flirting with people not our spouses, and even going the full nine in someone else’s pants...so to speak. Yet we still expect politicians to conduct themselves differently than us when it comes to their sex lives. But my question is, should they?

Well, I don’t purport to represent the norm, but I personally don’t care what a politician does in his bedroom so long as he doesn’t care what I do in mine. He or she can screw, spank, and spoon as much as wanted. I’m not saying I condone cheating on your partner or diaper play (David Vitter). But I’m much more concerned with politicians using the legislative process to screw me OVER for someone else’s benefit, not literally screwing someone for their own.

So, Mark and Eliot, you messed up. It’s your problem, not mine. But come on, quit barking about sex when you can’t keep your penis behind the line you’ve drawn for the rest of us.

Will you quit fawning already, there’s a GAME going on.

I found myself saying this out loud during game 3 on more than one occasion.

Look. Kobe Bryant is an amazing basketball player. His fakes are so devastating that the player on the receiving end usually runs the risk of hurting himself. Kobe can make all players look away from the hoop...except the guy who catches the alley-oop. He can poke the ball into the basket from any angle of any hanging jumper. What he does is so maddeningly precise that it takes a minute for it to even sink in.

Top 10 of all time? Yeah, there’s space for him there.

But that doesn’t mean you should praise the guy sanctimoniously every second of every game. You shouldn’t put up graphics of him clutching the Trophy. You shouldn’t clog the screen with him so it looks like the finals are a foregone conclusion or he’s the only one on the court worth talking about. You WAIT until his team wins the series before you do that stuff.

I respect Kobe’s game. But despite his amazing accomplishments (81 points in one game!), he doesn’t hold my interest. Because in the end...Kobe really isn’t that interesting.

I want to know more about Hedo Turkoglu, a 6′10 guy who can play forward, point guard, and shooting guard, and can still drive the ball like a freight train. I want to know more about Pau Gasol, a wild-haired Spaniard who I can imagine beating a team of 10 single handed in the streets of his native Barcelona. I want to be able to watch a play without hearing the name Kobe Bryant.

Go Hedo.

I really don’t get what all the fuss is about.

The way it’s portrayed, you’d think the moment a detainee was moved out of Guantanamo Bay, they’d be dropped off at a crowded shopping center, given $50,000 in unmarked bills, and provided with explicit instructions on how to build a fertilizer bomb.

If that’s the way our criminal justice system operates in this counry, then I count myself lucky I haven’t been shot, raped, robbed, carjacked, blown up, or kidnapped all in the same day.

I don’t know much about our national intelligence agencies, but I’m fairly confident that in the event of a Gitmo prisoner release in the U.S., they’d be on that person like white on rice. No sitting politician or agency head wants to handle the blowback from a blow-up caused by a prisoner release. And if you think they do want that blowback...well, I guess I do understand why you’re so skittish about the prospect of moving Gitmo prisoners here.

It seems to me the real problem would be moving a Gitmo prisoner into the U.S. penal system if convicted in a U.S. court. In that case there appear to be two possibilities. Either you build a separate wing for that prisoner or you deal with the consequences of fellow prisoners beating and stabbing him to a pulp the moment he’s introduced. Either way, it’s either a costly taxpayer scheme or a costly PR scheme, but not a national security issue.

The issue here seems to be people’s faith in the U.S. security apparatus and federal prison system. Along those lines, it seems disengenuous to suddenly believe that alleged mass murderers who did it for different reasons are going to be more of a problem for those institutions than other mass murderers already tried and locked up just fine.

Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe if we move prisoners to U.S. soil, they’ll cause all sorts of problems and even claim lives. Maybe for some reason our intelligence agencies won’t be able to track them or foil any mischief they try on U.S. soil if released. Maybe our prisons won’t be able to deal with them if incarcerated. But I have to say I don’t think that’s the case. I think we’re just being wusses.

Word combinations like arctic breeze, aqua reef, and summer rain when used to describe scented products.

An arctic breeze probably smells better than anything on earth. And though I haven’t sniffed one (yet), I still know that an arctic breeze doesn’t smell anything like whatever came out of that scented do-dad on the wall.

Aqua reef? What the hell does a reef smell like? I’ll give you a hint. It smells like nothing to humans because we can’t smell things underwater. If you try to smell, it just burns like salt water. Unless you’re marketing deodorant to sharks, it’s kind of silly.

Ah yes, summer rain. This is one of the best smells. The one you breathe in after chasing your friends in circles across the grass during a thunderstorm. When you don’t care about getting wet.

“Summer rain” body wash doesn’t smell like that. It smells like chemicals.

This is an insult to the real summer rain.

People of the world, I exhort you to go out and smell real lavender, aloe, cucumber, apple cider, cinammon, vanilla, honeydew melon, sea breeze, strawberry, and an Irish spring if you’re headed that way. Do it before it’s too late.