Monday, January 18, 2010

Damn, dirty apes!


At my second week interning at the Legislative Gazette, I was asked to cover the first annual Sportsman Awareness Day event held by the Assembly Minority Leader Kolb. Hunters, outdoor enthusiasts, vendors and gun rights advocates came out in droves on January 12th to talk to their assembly people and hear the keynote speaker, Executive Director of the National Rifle Association Wayne LaPierre. After speeches by the head of Remington, SCOPE and other gun rights leaders and business men, Wayne LaPierre addressed a crowd of hundreds who crowded around the podium, filled the staircase of “The Well” and peered over the third floor banister on the Legislative Office Building.

This event really opened my eyes to a lot of things. As Wayne LaPierre spoke to the hundreds of people in the crowd, a surreal type of realization washed over me. LaPierre, with his enigmatic, fire and brimstone theatrics, probably didn’t care about anyone in that room. He was definitely an eloquent and intelligent speaker, no doubt. But most people in that room simply didn’t wanted to be taxed unfairly for hunting. Most of those parents crowded side by side in that room wanted to take their children out on the weekend and hunt, fish or camp; the same activities their parents did with them. And as LaPierre spoke, I got the feeling that he was out of touch with what the people in that room truly wanted. He showed clips of himself arguing vehemently with CNN anchors and calling them liars. He showed commercials he sponsored accusing politicians of using gun control laws as scapegoats for tougher prison sentences. And, most ridiculous to me, he showed a clip from the 2009 Sandra Bullock movie Blind Side in which she confronts an African-American man who threatens her son by explaining she has a “Saturday Night Special” in her purse and that it “shoots every day of the week too.”

At this point I looked around and saw the crowd grinning and shaking their heads. The absurdity suddenly struck me like Charlton Heston himself had shot it right into my solar plexus. They were buying it, hook, line and sinker. And these were not stereotypical “dumb hicks.” I spoke and listened too many of these people during the course of this event. I don’t hunt, and have grown up in city environments most of my life, so I’ve never been a fan of guns. Many of these people saw guns in a very different context than people from the city. They were from western parts of New York where hunting, trapping and outdoor activities were as much a part of their lives as riding the subway is to urbanites. But as LaPierre stood on his soapbox, preaching about how guns were a right ordained by God himself, I got the distinct feeling that whatever his intentions up there were, (see: ego, fame, power, misguided altruism or mid-morning indigestion) he cared little about the individual plight of those who applauded him at the end of his blockbuster movie speech. He was co-opting their needs and passions to serve him. Were the people in that room innocent of being duped? Not exactly, but the whole experience left a particularly crazy taste in my mouth of indignation and gun powder.

In conclusion, this event hasn’t soured me to the political process as a whole, but made me be more keenly aware to watch out for those politicians and leaders who care more about winning arguments and righteous causes then those they are meant to serve. It made me more open minded towards peoples causes but more weary of those who claim to represent them. And perhaps most importantly, it made me re-examine anyone who uses Sandra Bullock movies to prove broad political objectives. She might be able to convince me she’s a cop posing as a beauty pageant contestant, but her legitimacy as a gun rights advocate leaves a lot to be desired.

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Albany: First Chapter

So it's week two of working at the Legislative Gazette, having the new apartment in Albany, being more broke then the U.S. economy and generally taking over this year. Highlights as of late:

- Made pork chops stuffed with blue cheese and Adobo, topped with balsamic onions, side of applesauce, and fusulli with pecorino romano cheese.

- Neighborhood cat with one hurt paw. Cue sighs here.

- Still haven't paid first months rent.

- Eternal gratefulness to the following people who have truly held me down:

- Mom and Dad. Have gone above and beyond the call of duty to help their poor, helpless son try to get his career and life together. True patriots in the sense of doing everything they can for there family. Love you guys.

- Grandma: the Birthday card and the new microwave. Jesus, truly the best generation. Love, again.

- Aunt Sue: The furniture and television and brownies. Another woman who I just can't understand why she hasn't been awarded a Nobel prize in being the shiznit. Sorry Obama, but she's actually showing results.

- Can walk to work, Lark Street (bar scene) and Price Chopper. Full access to all amenities. Getting it in shall commence.

- Been doing actual reporting for once in my life and I actually really enjoy it. More details to come.

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

the draining feeling

i think we've all been there
that draining sinking greasy feeling
which coats your insides like Pepto Bismol
but instead of indigestion relief it turns
stomach butterflies into bats with claws
dulls your head and turns your good memories into
chiming flashes of horror movies
except you would welcome the hokey Freddy or
stomping Jason
i think we've all been there,
when inadequacy bites your brightest day,
and every friend seems distant on separate moons
little princes with sheep’s in drawn boxes
a different drummer in death dirges, surging with
nothing
where the whole world pancakes you with
dry Bisquick serum
where you know how not to feel
but it's like being at the bottom of a well
and their throwing scraps from the tiny lit up hole at the top
like, these compliments are tasty but I can't get myself to eat em
where’s the point?
i think we've all been there
that sickening bed-ridden Sunday afternoon where TV sucks
grays bundled with late awakening
and homework’s a joke
and every thought is a pang in the side of hope
everything is now
everything is past
nothing is future
cell with missed calls
cell with brick walls
cells where blood curdles
looking for the escalator which will bring you back to norm
out of order signs on every upward motion
an empty mall where the doors are locked and the lights are dim
and expression is told through retail
and ghosts of teenage hand-held's dance around your sulking body
i think we've all been there
where you sit on your friends couch and everyone is having fun
and suddenly things get weird
you don’t know why
and you make mock appearances to hold the table weight
but as soon as you leave the plates crash off to the side
the golden mean deceived and not divine
it's physical
its mental
its bland groceries and being single
its being together and fighting
its looking up in the sky and instead of seeing
the vast grand scheme of a trillion fires
and the potential for everything
you shrink at the tininess of life
think of death and the stinging bite
brought to you by the letters
h-e-l and P
your Oscar the grouch
your Helen Keller with clipped wings
your Diogenes the cynic
the dirty laundry piles
and i think we've all been there
where home is where the cold is
and the chill is in your spine
and the job is going no where
and your goals are caught in time
caged within a darkened skull
which it was never meant to be
and I never wanted to be that guy who sat glooming
wallowing in his own pity
the over privileged kid telling those less fortunate and more happy that life sucks
i don't believe it for a second
but this isn't about logic
or belief
or the warm halo which spins miles above where you sit
in the muddy chill of cold winds
in a Poe like house of leaves
where your best bet is sleep
but rotten energy courses through veins
like nu clear water through tall trees
and i never wanted this
large stinking mammal
hippopotamus promises
bronze doorknobs turning to reveal brick walls
i think we've all been there
and then you begin to crawl
towards a path where
vegetation peaks through concrete slabs on urban streets
and I’m mad max conquering the Thunderdome
lighting the path with a match and pack
in fact, this path is past its prime and I’m pouring new
angles inside of the melting pot
no drugs
no destiny
no emergencies
and it's a slow walk
Dylan said a hard rains going fall
and I’m wiping the sweat and inventing the wheel
I’m scrubbing the dirt and knowing the deal
coming out of it, how can i help my family
my friends
my fellow man
remove asbestos and get lead out of GI Joe's
remove the stalker which sometimes sneaks up out of no where and
takes hold of me
chloroform muffled
have a vigilant eye
by still walking forward
and i think we've all been there

Albany

Went looking for apartments here today. Spent about four hours just walking by myself, getting a lay of the land. Albany has that bleak sort of urban desolation that goes with an over abundance of concrete, hollow-tunneled malls and older white men eating McDonald's while contemplating legislative strategy. I always heard that this was such a big party town, but I couldn't help feeling I was in the USSR. Maybe it was the gray skies or cold wind but in a word - yuck. None the less, I did find a lot of apartments within walking distance of the Legislative Gazette. Hopefully things will seem less Chernobyl-y once I settle in.

floors

Silence is the sadness of the scenes left strewn on the cutting room floor
the negatives of positives
the stored energy of coiled mattress springs
inside those light burlap eyes I saw melted tar on summer roofs
and meteors drizzle slowly like ash
and through that damn Folgers hair
I saw duck ponds and frozen moments
bringing you green tea when you're sick
and wrists which could save men from deep cliffs
and in those glacier shark eyes I saw country dirt roads
freshly peeled corncob hair
and my fingers
hunt through 140,000 strands of hair
to touch the oasis of your ears
and past her dusk lily pad eyes
i stared when you sat
so I could see the space between your hips and jeans leave ocarina sized gaps of darkness in between
and then

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

"Some circles of hell can’t be squared." - Frank Rich


O.K., so essentially, President Obama wants to send over 30,000 troops to Afghanistan, the second escalation of troops in his presidency so far. You can see here that by 2011, we will have over 100,000 troops there fighting terrorists, specifically al-Qaida (you can compare this to Vietnam troop levels here, even though Obama clearly told us they're incomparable in his speech at West Point.) So to try to understand this better, I went to try to find out how many al-Qaida are in Afghanistan. Yes, it can only really be an estimate considering the border situation, but an estimate is better than nothing.

Gen. Stanley McChrystal, the current Commander of the International Security Assistance Force (ISAF) of U.S. Forces Afghanistan (strangely blank) said this on September 11, 2009:

"I do not see indications of a large al-Qaida presence in Afghanistan now,"

Not to be quoted out of context, (he is a military leader after all) he also said of Al Qaeda's relationship with the Taliban:

"I do believe that al-Qaida intends to retain those relationships because they believe it is symbiotic ... where the Taliban has success, that provides a sanctuary from which al-Qaida can operate transnationally."

It's also important to realize that in 2001, when we originally went into Afghanistan, U.S. forces removed the Taliban from power. Yet, the Council on Foreign Relations does say that:

"Though the group has been out of power for several years, it remains a cultural force in the region that operates parallel governance structures aimed at undermining the U.S.-backed central government. "

Ok, so then you have to ask yourself, why is it a cultural force? Why would people openly support a group associated with supporting al-Qaida? Well, despite the Taliban's bad rap, which they've earned in spades, they've had success in "eliminating corruption, restoring peace, and allowing commerce to resume," according to Infoplease. None the less, following strict Sharia Law, they practice the stoning of women. Executions are also common place.

So why are we going to Afghanistan? Al-Quaida is barely there, and the Taliban, although still popular amongst some groups, isn't in power. Without saying it outright, President Obama essentially said we're there to prevent them from coming back into power. Prevention. As opposed to being attacked. That is essentially the Bush Doctrine, isn't it?

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Life, there it is.



Pablo Ortiz Monasterio