The Internet Is A Bottomless Treasure Chest

Every blog in the world should post this

i think this is pretty funny.

Mr. Singal Goes To Washington

I just returned from a trip to Washington, DC, where I spent a few days (courtesy of Mr. Feinberg and his couch, Sally) looking for housing. For those of you not in the know, or who don't regularly read celebrity gossip columns, I am starting an internship with a political magazine in September. Good times. I figured, as had been the case with New York City, that I would drive down to DC, search for a day or two, and find a place. Easy as pie. (I fucking hate that expression.)

Boy, was I wrong.

We all know that finding a place in New York is hard. Apartment hunting in DC, however, is like trying to ride a unicycle across a crocodile's back while juggling -- no matter how good you are at it, a thousand things can go wrong. If you don't respond to a Craigs List ad within an hour of its going up, you may as well not bother. As a result, much of my time was spent in Feinberg's apartment, refreshing the site every few hours, sending promising posters e-mails absolutely dripping with desperation, and waiting for them to call me.

The original plan was to live with Ben Kaufman, a friend from Newton North, and one of his friends from Skidmore. Kaufman had called me excitedly last Tuesday.

"Dude, we found a place," he told me. It was a three bedroom basement apartment in Columbia Heights, one of the newly hip neighborhoods in which to live, and ten seconds from a metro station. Kaufman explained that the guy who was renting it out was super nice and said that tons of people wanted it but that Kaufman seemed so trustworthy that he'd knock the price down, just for us! It was originally $2400, but he said he'd rent it for $2250. Just because Kaufman seemed reliable! What a guy! What a deal! Kaufman wanted me to sign all the paperwork immediately, but I was a bit skeptical. For one thing, it didn't have a living room. If you're paying $750 for a place, shouldn't there be a living room? And the basement thing was questionable too -- the term "basement apartment" can mean many things, and I didn't feel comfortable taking one sight unseen.

In other words, it was road trip time. I hopped in my car the next day and made the eight-hour journey to DC, getting snagged as always on the Cross Bronx and arriving in Columbia Heights shortly after 5:30, the time at which I'd agreed to meet Jessie, the woman who would show me the place. Two other kids were waiting, too, and they told me that they'd also been offered the place for $2250. That was odd, I thought -- weren't we getting that special, amazing price because Kaufman seemed so trustworthy? Hmmmm...

Jessie arrived and led us down a set of dungeonlike stairs.

It was a basement -- I had to give it that. The problem was, it didn't really seem like an apartment. One of the bedrooms was all right -- it got plenty of light since it opened into the building's small backyard. The other "bedroom" wasn't so hot -- two small, ground-level windows, only one of which would receive any light. The third "bedroom" was windowless. And Kaufman had claimed that the kitchen could serve as a common room as well if we put a couch there. He was wrong.

So the total rundown: $750 a person for no living room in a basement apartment with only one room that could rightly be considered a bedroom. The immediate neighborhood was nice, yes, but the apartment was horrible. Next, please. It was a poor, poor omen.

I'm already well on my way to writing one of those self-absorbed, boring, diarylike posts I always complain about. But I will share one other event from my time in DC. (I'm not sharing the middle-aged gay pool hall owner from whom I almost rented a crappy room for a month, nor the mentally unstable forty- or fiftysomething Northeasterner who tried to sell me an efficiency in a big, bizarre, crappy house near Chinatown. As he showed me the room, gesturing vaguely, he was on the phone, trying to appease his girlfriend, who was mad that he wasn't returning her calls.)

I saw a Craigs List post for a room in an excellent part of Adams Morgan. It was only a September to October rental, but the price was quite reasonable. So I showed up right when the open house began, and another girl was there too. I will henceforth refer to her as Bitchy New Yorker (BNY). She was small and chirpy and probably harmless, but something about her immediately troubled me.

Karen, the owner of the house, showed us the place. It was beautiful, and the room was nice. Karen ran out of things to show us, and a strange tension descended on our threesome.

BNY: "So, in terms of renting the room, what was your timeframe?"

Karen: "Immediate."

It was just BNY and I. No other candidates.

BNY: "I'll be up front: I brought my checkbook with me. I have to take a train back to New York later today and will write you a check right now."

Me [incredulous that BNY seemed impressed with herself for taking such an obvious measure]: "Well, yeah. Finding a place is tough. I brought my checkbook too. And I have to drive back to Boston later tonight."

BNY: "I'm working for [probably-fake environmental nonprofit]; their office is two blocks away."

Karen: "I dunno Jesse -- she's making a pretty strong case."

As Karen said this she shot me a strange look, like she expected me to don a top hat, produce a cane, and perform a musical number explaining why I, and not BNY, should get the apartment. ("Ooooohhhhhhhhh to get my career on the proper track / I'd like to live east of the Po-to-mac...") But what was I supposed to do? BNY had stolen all my leverage. And while I couldn't blame her for playing the checkbook card so early, something about the way in which she did so really pissed me off: She acted like I wasn't there, like no one in the world could have come up with the brilliany idea of bringing a checkbook to a cheapish, available apartment in a desirable area.

So Karen gave it to BNY then and there. I can't wait until the first time I see BNY at a bar on 18th Street. I'm totally going to tell one of the bouncers she sexually harrassed me. Then we'll see who's laughing (probably the bouncer).

So far, this post has been a textbook example of why I usually don't blog: I have brought nothing to the table, have focused on a couple of small, unimportant anectodes, and have said little of import. I did eventually find an overpriced place, but it's in a good area. I should probably stop writing now.

But here are my first impressions on the District, and why I will eventually be banned from it:

DC is filled with lobbyists, ambitious young staffers, and employees of NGOs. In other words, it contains many people who, for the sake of networking and ladder-climbing, are probably concerned with concepts that are alien to me, concepts such as:

-personal grooming
-proper modes of dress for going out
-smiling maniacally/acting cheerful
-singing the same brain-liquefying Bon Jovi song every Friday during Happy Hour

I am going to fit right in.

What Would Jesus Blog?

I would like to thank my brother for his honest, accurate, and sensitive post on me, a post that contained nary a trace of libel. He is good people.

No one posts to this blog anymore. It was different back in the day. Remember the '80s? Remember when we'd throw all-night coke parties at Marlowe's, hook up a bunch of computers, and blog until the sun came up, we puked blood on our keyboards, and passed out naked on her front lawn? We used to rock, man. We used to blog because shit needed to be blogged.

What are we blogging for now? WHAT ARE WE BLOGGING FOR NOW?

I'll tell you what: nothing. We Are America's Future, formerly a bellwether of America's fate, has been reduced to a has-been, a hanger-on, a barnacle barely latched to the algae-ridden underside of this once-great nation. All's lost. Game over, man -- game over.

But the flame still burns bright. For there are bloggers out there who, unlike our sorry lot, have not forgotten what blogging is about. When they blog, they're not typing with their fingers -- they're typing with their hearts. Literally. (Not Literally.)

Who are these brave warriors of blogtastic virtue? Who are these blogariffic blogheads whose very blogginess gives new meaning to the word? I'll tell you who: highboy of Christ Matters and Kerwin of Expressions of Liberty.

I'd like to spend more time on Kerwin, but first a brief note on highboy. Christ Matters is truly a revelation; finally, a blog willing to take the bold step of criticizing liberals, and one that understands that all they want to do is destroy America. Never before has the blogosphere seen such an audacious, rapier wit take on the decline of America.

Not only is he brave, intellectual, and unafraid to hold liberals accountable for their chicanery (and, let's face it -- for their pure, unadulterated evilness); he's also something of a military expert, as is clearly evident in his arguments for why we should attack Iran:

Military analysts have already proposed great campaigns for Iran, that wouldn't even include ground troops. These same experts helped put together the brilliant campaign for Iraq that subjugated the entire country in 21 days.

I cannot express how refreshing it is to find someone willing to cut through the spin, the lies, and the draconian rules regarding comma splices. Whereas a liberal would only refer to the Iraq adventure as a "brilliant campaign" with a sarcastic chortle, followed by a sip of his soy latte and a same-sex encounter with a horse, highboy tells us what we should already know: of course we could succeed in Iran -- all we would have to do is bring in the same people who planned the Iraq invasion. And we "wouldn't even [need to] include ground troops"! Unlike the liberal socialist fag whackjobs inhabiting the CIA, the Pentagon, and much of the Administration, all of whom say that it would be impossible to end the Iran threat through an air campaign because we have such poor intelligence on that country's nuclear facilities, and because said facilities are buried deep underground, spread over a wide area, and hard to positively ID from afar, highboy deftly defuses such naysaying by citing unnamed "[m]ilitary analysts" who undoubtedly have access to inside information.

But to continue to extol the virtues of highboy would be to ignore the brilliance of Kerwin. Though highboy is a paragon of intelligence, faith, and military knowledge, Kerwin bests him in just about every area. Kerwin is the LeBron James to highboy's Carmelo Anthony; the Singal to his Bielak, if you will.

It's important to immediately get one thing straight: Kerwin, as he tells it, is not a conservative; rather, he's a "classical liberal which is considered a type of conservative in these modern days. [He is] pro-right to life, pro-right to liberty, pro-parental rights, pro-right to property and a number of other natural human rights."

Are you reading me clear, you pinko homo God-sodomizers? He's a liberal, just like you. The only difference is that he knows how to make clear, convincing, intelligent arguments. Take his post about Paris Hilton, who recently claimed in an interview that she's toning down the promiscuity a bit:

I mention this because the values Miss. Hilton is speaking of are values known to be good for our society. They are the last values I expected to hear from anyone associated with Hollywood. We know that divorce is bad for our society, if only for the short and long term effects it has on children. There are adverse effects even in individuals that do not have children. Sex before marriage and adultery can have disaster consequences for our society. I suspicion that much of the drug use and crime can be traced to weak or no family bonds.

He's right, of course: If more people paid attention to people like Paris Hilton and "the values... she is speaking of," then "I suspicion" that our country would not be a cesspool of child-corrupting soul-cannibals.

But Kerwin's most powerful posts are his more macroscopic ones, in which he seizes the reins of power from those who would most secretly -- and sinisterly -- cling to them. This post was an Expression of Liberty Instant Classic. Most mainstream journalists are too terrified to report on the obvious, transparent plot through which Unitarian Universalists are trying to control the world via the United Nations. Not Kerwin, though. The post is too intelligent for me to provide my readers only with quotes; I'm going to include the whole thing:

Monday, June 05, 2006

The Power Of Unitarian Universalism And Its Thread To The Constitution

One point of morality which where Christianity and Unitarian Universalism are opposed is homosexuality. The U.U. adopted support for homosexual rights in the early to mid 70’s just about the same time the American Psychological Association came out with the announcement that homosexuality was not an insanity. There is most likely a relationship between the two.

The U.U. is the established religion of the United Nations which makes it one of the strongest organized religions in the world. It may well compete with the Catholic Church in sheer power. The U.U. owns United Press International which gave it quite a bit of influence through the media. The UPI has suffered a collapse and is no longer consider a major news organization which may have hurt the UU or may be because they have other more subtle means to accomplish the same goal. The UN had a meeting in 1981 in which they declared war on Christianity and other religions that they decide are intolerant and discriminatory. The “civil rights” arm of the United Nations is just a way for the U.U. to force their morality on the world. Evidence shows that they are successful with our top judges, the later even finally admitting that they are using “international law” to settle cases. Note the law is not really international but what the U.N. and it religious arm support.

Thanks to the U.U. we have the Muslim brotherhood that like Christians object to attacks on their religious rights. The Muslim Brotherhood under the nomenclature of Al Qaeda has attacked Western (International Community) interests a number of times including the World Trade Towers on 9/11. Anyone notice the word “World” as compared to the missing word “American” in the name. The HQ for the United Nations is located in New York City which makes it a nice primary target for Al Qaeda.

One thing I am not sure of is why the U.U. and atheist seem to be so linked. It is possible that the fact that atheist and U.U. members are often humanist may be the explanation. It may also be an alliance of convenience that comes from the idea that the enemy of my enemy is my friend.

I wonder what the stance of the U.U. on the evolution/intelligent design debate. I suspicion that they are evolutionist as that is what our federal courts support.

I do know the U.N. advocates Open Borders and does not legally recognize that illegal aliens exist. That makes sense since there goal is to become a strong central government. The U.U. is just one way of unifying the people by unifying their religions.

I also believe that the U.N. is an enemy of protectionism.

posted by Kerwin | 10:21 PM

I don't even need to comment on this. It was like stumbling upon a pulsing emerald of pure knowledge. The puzzle pieces were always there, waiting in a box for a capable assembler; Kerwin dumped them out and put them together with uncanny dexterity and alacrity. Incredible stuff -- of course the liberal media would ignore the fact that it was the World Trade Towers. The evidence of the radical internationalist humanism that so obviously gave rise to Al Qaeda's radical religious fundamentalism was right there in front of our faces!

My sense is that Kerwin has a long, bright future ahead of him as a journalist, and I hope for the sake of America that I am correct. Whether he's arguing that cohabitation should be illegal, exposing "The Deadly Roots Of The ACLU," or issuing a pithy, logical, and utterly convincing explanation of why evolution is false, Kerwin continues to do his gritty journalistic grunt work despite the ubiquitous threat posed by a new world order dominated by secular humanists, Unitarian Universalists, and gays.

Thank you, good sir, for reason and common sense in an age of insanity.

Jesse Singal: Brother to All

For my first post I thought it was only appropriate to commend the man who invited me to We Are America's Future: my older brother, Jesse Singal. I'm not sure mere words can describe how much of an impact Jesse has had on my life. Now, most brothers are nice enough to buy beer for their younger siblings. Not Jesse though. He always makes that extra effort, not only buying the beer, but also volunteering his time to come to the parties with my high school friends and me. Because that's just the kind of guy Jesse is: sacrificing the time he could be spending with his own group of friends to make sure some high schoolers can have a fun, but safe time. For example, last weekend it was my friend Mandy's 17th birthday. She'd had a bit too much to drink, so Jesse said that he'd drive her home. And that's what makes Jesse so great -- He has no problem driving home a nearly passed-out high school girl just because he wants to make sure everyone has a safe time.So I say three cheers for Jesse Singal, who I like to think of as not only a brother to me, but a brother to the world. By the way Jesse, Mandy says you left your wallet at her house.

i'm excited to be a part of this blog. i was excited to have the opportunity to share my fun, quirky and maybe even eye-opening experiences living in the big city, but i couldn't think of anything good. as much as i try to pretend that living in detroit is just like living in new york city, it's not. it's just kind of worse.

so then, here's a story about something bad that happened to me today:

i had to go to the doctor today, which was pretty unremarkable except that i had to talk to my nurse through BULLET PROOF GLASS.
whatever. i got what i needed, but getting out of the parking lot was kind of tricky. i couldn't find the real exit, so i ended up driving through an alley, down a sidewalk and then out onto the road. as i was stopped at the corner, a construction worker ran up to my car screaming and flailing a little. he spat on me and called me a strange and derogatory name for a group of people that i don't even belong to. i don't know why the construction worker got so angry. my best guess is because when i drove illegally down the sidewalk i nearly hit him with my side mirror. also, the cement i drove through was wet. also, he had just put down this cement.

he didn't have to spit on me. ON ME. sick.

detroit!!