ETD Confidential: Introduction

I'm sure that I will at some point explore in a post my Top 5 Dream Jobs. These are the jobs that 12 year-old Ray dreamed that he might one day have before a Communications degree and a crappy job market shattered those dreams...possibly for good. And on that list there will certainly be Private Eye. Private Eyes are watching you pretty damn badass. Many of the best movies are about private eyes (e.g. The Maltese Falcon, Chinatown, Who Framed Roger Rabbit?, L.A Confidential, Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, and Sherlock Holmes). Many of the best television shows are about private eyes (e.g. Veronica Mars, Psych, Hart to Hart, Moonlighting, Angel, The Rockford Files, and Murder, She Wrote). Even some of my favorite porn films are about private eyes, including my 8th favorite fictional porn film: Californication's Vaginatown. I'm sure that I could do a whole post on why fictional porn premises are better than most modern porn but last time I did a post about erotica my mom had a coronary...so I'll probably wait about a year before I decide to try that again. What I was trying to say is that being a private eye would be one of the sweetest jobs in the world if it is anything like mainstream media implies it to be. I'd get to go to work drunk, wear fedoras, be super cool in the face of danger, explore sewer systems, close my venetian blinds all sexy-like, and tell women that they have great "walking sticks".

No, there is no question in my mind that being a private detective would be more satisfying than a Not Guilty verdict after a workplace prank gone awry. But do I have what it takes to be a private eye? Private eyes are a certain type of person, and I don't see a lot of Magnum P.I. in me. I'm not as suave as Sam Spade. I'm not as snarky as Veronica Mars. And I'm not as recklessly daring as Philip Marlowe. Private Eyes need many things in order to be successful. They need to have tremendous concentration. And I'm not talking about "Boy This is a Hard Level of Angry Birds Concentration". I'm talking about "Ray is Playing Spin the Bottle with Michelle Monaghan and Four Old Greek Guys Concentration". Because that would be the most important spin of my life. I've only got one chance and if Michelle walks out that door while I'm stuck smooching that hairy bastard Kostas...I'll never forgive myself, so you know that my concentration on that spin is going to be an 11 out of 10. That is the level of concentration that private eyes need to have. Jessica Fletcher always solves the cases that the police can't because she notices the smallest little details like a dish that was rotated 90 degrees to the left by a non-meticulous poisoner or a suspect who has a pen from some hardware store that she visited in the first five minutes of the show disproving his alibi. Am I capable of that level of concentration without Michelle Monaghan and an empty Dr. Pepper bottle to motivate me?

Private Eyes also need confidence. They make ludicrous accusations based upon the most obscure minutia of evidence and they know that they're right no matter what. Even when the police refuse to believe them despite the fact that they were correct under similar circumstances in all of the previous 88 episodes. How can I do that? I question myself constantly. I can look at a menu for ten minutes and still have no clue what the correct decision is. I will constantly be looking around and second-guessing my meal selection throughout the entire dinner. Every day I make decisions and immediately feel whatever the non-purchase equivalent of buyer's remorse is. I think that this largely has to do with the fact that I don't feel sexy. Most private eyes are good lookers. Veronica Mars has been #1 on the Hot 100 for two consecutive years. Remington Steele has made more women moist in the nethers than a $30 tiramisu. And Thomas Magnum may not translate as well in the 21st Century, but with a moustache like that and the last name Magnum...he was a 1980's sexual icon. Am I capable of that level of confidence without the corresponding level of sex appeal?

But more important that concentration and confidence is the third "C". Cases! Every private eye needs a good case to investigate and those just don't seem to come around in La Canada, California the way they do in Cabot Cove, Maine. Seriously, how did that sleepy little town maintain it's population with over 268 murders over the course of 12 years. That's just ridiculous. That's beyond Compton's murder rate. We're talking about Cabot Cove having a murder rate that competes with Jaurez, Mexico. Nothing ever happens in La Canada. And when something does, it's so rare that we're able to devote all necessary police man power to the cause...usually eliminating the need for a private eye. There was a series of body dumpings in La Canada last month. I was driving by as I saw the police catch the guys on the 2 Freeway...so I think that that case is closed. But seriously there were like 40 police cars...I legit thought that OJ was on the loose. I could go old school and have swanky dames come to me with their problems Raymond Chandler-style, but I feel like I have to develop a reputation before that will work. And before I start to uncover the seedy crime-ridden underbelly of Los Angeles county...I might want to sharpen my skills investigating something a little more tame. We'll see what that will be in few weeks when this segment really kicks off.

Friday Night Writes: Time Travel Pair-of-Docs

[NOTE: This post will contain significant SPOILERS regarding the films The Time Machine and Back to the Future. Also, possibly Primer...I haven't decided yet on that one. If you wish to see these films unspoiled, please go watch them this week and then come back and read.]

The two docs being referred to in the title are Dr. Emmett Brown of Back to the Future and Dr. Alex Hartdegen of The Time Machine. I'm sure Stephen Hawking has discovered about 17 different types of time travel, each one more confusing than the last. However, for those of us that are less enlightened, there are two main branches of time travel. There is linear time travel and non-linear time travel which utilizes string theory. For those of you that aren't taking astrophysics, I will explain these through the use of two movies that correlate to the different varieties of time travel.

The first of these is the Warner Brothers and Dreamworks film The Time Machine starring Guy Pearce. I know that it was also an H.G. Wells book but I'm going to be using the movie to help me illustrate. And since I don't remember character names I will be referring to them by the actor's name. The film starts out with Guy Pearce strolling around town with his sweetheart Sienna Guillory (Jill from the Resident Evil movies). However, they are held up by a mugger who shoots Sienna and she dies in his arms.

Distraught by his lover's death, Guy Pearce decides that he's so smart that he will build a time machine to go back and save her from this horrendous fate. So four years later it's done. Bada-Boom-Bada-Bing...he goes back four years and diverts her path so that they will not run into the mugger. However, now she steps away for a second and is run over by a horse and carriage. He can't figure out what happened so he keeps trying and she keeps dying. Realizing that he might need somebody to drop some knowledge on him regarding time travel in order for him to effectively save his woman, Guy travels 130 years into the future. He goes to the public library and asks how the whole time travel thing works. He is informed by the hologram of a librarian that there is no such thing as time travel and that there never will be. Talk about being ahead of his time. This guy invented something over 130 years before anybody else was even close to conceiving it.

However, Guy, being the optimist that he is, thinks this means that humans are only a few years away. So rather than shooting another hundred years into the future he thinks seven years ought to do it. Still no dice. But this time he is able to witness humans explode the moon. Which knocks him unconscious mid-time travel and he doesn't wake up until 802,201AD. So they've got to have invented time travel by now, right? No, apparently. When we blew up the moon civilization actually reverted. Who would have thought? So now that I'm thoroughly off-track...Guy meets with the uber-Morlock Jeremy Irons, who explains to him that he can never save his girlfriend. This is because in our linear time if he were to go back and save her, his past self would never have any reason to invent the time machine and thus it would be creating a time paradox. He has an Oscar, we have to believe him. If you subscribe to this version of time travel it means that while you can alter the past...you can not never go back with specific intentions on altering the past. It has to happen organically outside of your intent.

This brings me to my second movie. I am of course referring to Robert Zemeckis' classic Back to the Future trilogy. These characters I know, so I won't be referring to them as Michael J. Fox, Christopher Lloyd, Crispin Glover, and Leah Thompson. In this utterly-80s trilogy Doctor Emmitt Brown invents a time machine that is also a car. How practical! Also, it's a DeLorean. How bad ass! It is powered by weapons grade plutonium. Now getting less practical! And this plutonium powers the flux capacitor...which will take the occupant of the DeLorean to his or her desired point in time when the DeLorean reaches 88 miles per hour. This is a wise move because speeding tickets increase exponentially at 25 miles over the speed limit. So you don't want to be clocked going 90 on the highway and with this bad boy you never will be.

So anyway...Doc Brown gets shot by some angry Libyan terrorists and Marty uses the DeLorean as his getaway vehicle. He guns it and ends up in 1955. He inadvertently gets his own mother to fall in love with him making this the second classic PG series to feature incestuous undertones. Anyway, because his mother is now not on track to hook up with his father he risks the obvious consequence that he will cease to exist. By this point in the movie H.G. Wells is rolling over in his grave because of the numerous time paradoxes and cosmic wormholes that this would create. Luckily, Marty fixes his parents back up, the crisis is averted, and we don't have to hurt our heads with the scientific malfeasance of this plot. But the paradox that H.G. Wells wrote about still lingers in the mind of the curious movie-goer. These are the same people who wonder what will happen if Pinocchio tells you that his nose is going to grow. A paradox is created and his face will probably explode.

However, Zemeckis and the wonderful people at Universal Pictures decide to confront this conundrum head-on in the sequel. Marty accidentally clues Grandpa Biff into the fact that it would be a great idea to take a year 2015 Sports almanac back a few decades and watch the Benjamins pile up. So needless to say, Biff does this and when Doc and Marty go back to 1985...it's not the 1985 they remember. This is because Grandpa Biff took the Almanac back to 1955 and gave it to cocky high school bully Biff. So Marty recommends going back to 2015 and stopping this from happening. The only problem is that it's too late for this. Doc informs him that if they jet back to 2015 it will be drastically different because they are now in a parallel time line. He then explains this by busting out some multiple universe theory and some Junior String Theory physics which makes a lot of sense. And then I'm pretty sure he moons H.G. Wells and all of the haters in the Physics community who criticized the first movie and tells them to suck on that explanation. They then have to go back to 1955 to fix the root of the problem because that is where the time lines diverge to form parallel time lines. Therefore, you can go back in time to change the past. You'll just be changing it for yourself and any fellow time traveling companions because there are multiple yous living multiple different lives on a possibly infinite number of time lines. And BOOM! goes the dynamite.

So the question here is:

How do you like your time travel? 

Do you subscribe to H.G. Well's theory of time travel or are you a Doc Brown kind of guy/gal? There are pros and cons to each. As humans we like to believe that we have control over our destinies and the thought of changing our pasts is very alluring. However, this variety of time travel also forces you to believe that you are even more insignificant because there are tons of other parallel universes and in many of those people are suffering because Hitler won World War II, polio and small pox are still running rampant, and they canceled LOST after two seasons because the ratings didn't justify the cost. And nobody wants to be a German-speaking, crippled person forced to watch crappy TV. However, unlike Back to the Future suggests for the year 2015, in none of these possibly infinite parallel universes do the Cubs ever win a World Series. That is one thing that all time and space can agree on. Basically, when you go back in time to make things better...you're really only making things better for the current version of yourself and the universe that you spun off. Your previous universe and all of your friends therein are still fucked.

So, it's time for me to weigh in. This is a tough call. I love Back to the Future and I love the thought of controlling my destiny both in the future and in the past, but I have to side with H.G. Wells here. I know that a lot of you Michael J. Fox fans are upset with me. I also know that a lot of you think that I'm an idiot and you think that time travel doesn't exist. Of course it does. Whenever, I mix whiskey and tequila I always wake up around three days in the future in my magical time-traveling dumpster. It might not be a flux capacitor but it gets me where I need to go. And look at worm holes. Those things have to go somewhere. However, I don't believe that you can change the past. If you could there would be a shitload of people from the future running around fixing everything...and you don't see that do you. And even if they're sneaky it means that they did come back and fix a bunch of shit and this was the best they could do, and you know I don't believe that. Total rubbish. So while I will buy into time travel I can't put my stamp of approval on altering the past. But please weigh in. I would LOVE to hear your opinions.

Ray's Top 5: "I Want To Go To There" Places To Visit

I consider myself a man of the world. I can name all 197 countries in the world. I'm quite good with world capitals, major world leaders, population estimates, and geography. I keep up with current events from Europe to the Middle East to Sub-Saharan Africa. I've just never been to any of these places. I've never been off the continent. My parents have each been to Europe and Asia within the last year. My younger brother (26) spent a semester in Ireland and visited a whole handful of countries in Europe from Spain to the Netherlands to Italy. My other youngest brother (21) is going to Brazil this summer for the World Cup. That means that I will be the last member of my immediate family to leave the continent. I don't even have a passport. I can fill my head with knowledge, but I can't be a proper citizen of the world without experiencing it first hand. I've seen every corner of this country from the Grand Tetons to Time Square but I've remained for too long in the box that is America. Not having the time or resources for world travel can't be an excuse for too much longer. I've got to make time. I've got to make it work with my budget. The only question is where to I want to go when I get on that plane. This should serve as a list of my top 5 countries to visit. Please note that it's probably not an actual Top 5. Four of my top 5 are probably on the same continent (surprisingly NOT Europe) so I'll consider this the top 5 countries that I'd like to visit that are all from different continents that I haven't been to yet. My goal is to see the world and have different life experiences, but it's also to enjoy myself. I don't want to visit every country. These selections do not represent my desire to avoid poverty and destitution. They're represent my desire to avoid turmoil and unrest. Going to Ghana to build schools or provide clean water is great, it's noble. Doing anything in North Korea is just plain dumb. I have no desire to go to Afghanistan. I'm not so much concerned as to whether my shipment of capitalism, democracy, and freedom arrived safely to the people of Afghanistan...just have them let me know when they stop throwing acid on girls for attending school and I'll see if I can't book a weekend there. Even more developed countries that aren't as American-friendly are off the list as of present. Thailand looks beautiful, but I saw Brokedown Palace...I'll pass for now. Here's the current Top 5 on the approved Ray O'Brien Travel Wish List:

#5: Chile

The only reason that this ranks #5 is because South America is the only continent where I don't have a sure fire #1 MUST VISIT country. Argentina sounds awesome. I'd love to go to Peru and see Machu Pichu. In going with my Stay Alive Manifesto, the only places that I'll be avoiding like the plague are the favelas of Rio de Janeiro (after Brokedown Palace, I also saw City of God...amazingly good movie, terrifying casual violence), Venezuela for the obvious reasons that it's a corrupt, impoverished, violent, drug-riddled, post-apocalyptic squalor pit, and possibly Colombia (I'll need to do more research on just how common their neckties are in the post-Escobar era). However, Chile seems pretty righteous. It's a land of great food, literature, and culture. It's a land of mystery and history. It contains both Easter Island and the Galapagos Island. Through these I can explore the mysteries of early civilizations and the origins of man. The variance in it's landscape means that I will have beaches, mountains, deserts, and jungles to explore. The vineyards there are some of the best in the world. The largest swimming pool in the world is at the San Alfonso del Mar Resort in Chile. You can sail a boat in it. You can hike Patagonia. Chile is one of the best spots in the world for stargazing. And when you've grown tired of camping and sleeping under the stars (not sure that's possible) you can stay in a hotel like the one pictured on the left. That's right...that is a hotel.

#4: Tanzania

This selection is all about adventure. It's by far the lowest country on this list in terms of placement on the Human

Development Index. It's right about in the middle of the African countries. It places 22nd out of 52 African countries (#152 overall). The super elite-level intelligence people among you might be saying: "But Ray, Africa has 54 countries." Yes. It does. South Sudan and Somalia were not able to be rated. South Sudan has only been a country since 2011 and UN members were not able to gather sufficient data to rate Somalia...so let's assume that they fall below Tanzania. Or if you want to just see a movie and stereotype the country off Hollywood's depiction of it like Ray has already done twice in this post...watch Captain Phillips. This low HDI means that I'll most likely be roughing it on this trip. I'm not talking about hostel in Europe roughing it. I'm talking about questionable access to clean water roughing it. But there's SO much to do in Tanzania. The versatility of it's landscape and wildlife are what make it the most appealing destination. And this trip would be about getting back to my roots. Sure my ancestry is Irish, but since the oldest human remains were found in Tanzania...aren't we all really from Tanzania. There are three things that I must do in Tanzania. The first would be to go on a proper safari. The second is to go to The Rock restaurant off of Zanzibar. Thirdly, I want to climb Mount Kilimanjaro. Let's be honest...I'll never tackle Mount Everest. It requires a level of climbing expertise, disregard for safety, and tolerance of physical discomfort that I just don't have. I really don't have any desire to climb it. Sure, it's an accomplishment. But when it comes to mountain climbing, I'm in it for the view...and I hear that Kilimanjaro's is better. Everest may be the top of the world, but Kilimanjaro has an allure all it's own. When you look down from the summit of Everest you can gaze across the Himilayas at what I'm sure is a breathtaking view of all of the other 8,000 meter high peaks that in it's range. Do you know what mountain range Kilimanjaro is a part of? It's not. It's a lone tower rising high above the Serengeti. You can see for miles, into other countries. If you look at the picture on you're right, you'll see a view of Kilimanjaro...from Kenya. And more importantly, I can climb Kilimanjaro. It will take some training, but I wouldn't need to dedicate my life to it like I would Everest. There is very little technical expertise required to climb it. All you really need is to be in decent shape and properly pace your ascent over a week in order to properly acclimate. 

#3: Japan

Japan is a land of much beauty and much bizarre shit. Chile and Tanzania are must visits because as a lover of nature and exploration I have to experience the terrain that they would offer an adventurer such as myself. However, visiting Japan is just as much about immersing myself in the culture as it is about experiencing the actual landscape. The Japanese have cultural norms and extremes that are difficult for Americans to understand. They're so efficient that they've engineered square watermelons so that they can stack them easier without wasting space. They're youth are so tech-centric that they shower with their smart phones and idolize a cartoon hologram pop star at "live" concerts. It is discouraged to blow your nose but encouraged to loudly slurp your soup. They will wait hours in line to pet common house cats at cafes. You can't buy potato chips from a vending machine, but you can buy the used panties of teenage girls from vending machines. Sleeping at work is smiled upon by Japanese employers. They buy Hole-in-One insurance because otherwise they'd go into financial hardship from all of the gifts that they are expected to by for their friends and family after such an accomplishment. I probably have misunderstood or misrepresented more than one of these cultural oddities that I've listed...but that's all the more reason that I need to explore this fascinating land and people. I'd certainly need to spend some time in Tokyo to immerse myself in the people and the culture, despite the fact that Tokyo is otherwise my nightmare. I hate crowds and lines and Tokyo is just an interweaving series of both. The trains there hire people simply to push and pack passengers in to maximum capacity. No thanks. But after I've figured out what this place is all about, I'll head out to more rural Japan and take in the breathtaking beauty of it's natural landscapes. I want to see Mount Fuji. I want to see the cherry blossoms, the Sengen shrines, the Oshino Hakkai hot springs, and Shiraito Falls.  I also have a friend who lives in Osaka. Maybe Shigeki will let me crash on his Ashiatsu table.

#2: Malta

Europe has scores of desired travel locales that await my arrival. Friends have regaled me with tales of how places like Rome, Paris, Stockholm, and Prague are not to be missed and are the most incredible places that I'll ever lay my eyes upon. But the pull is not as strong to go to a place that has already been visited by those that I hold near and dear. I want to forge my own path. I want to set out for adventures unknown. I want to make like Stevie Nicks and go my own way. I can't throw a rock in a group of my friends without it ricocheting off of three people who have been to Rome. But have any of them ever been to Valletta? Malta looks awesome. It's certainly the road less traveled among Americans, but it's brimming with cultural beauty and centuries of history that AP European History didn't have time to cover. They're a very fun-loving, go-with-the-flow people. And boy do they take direction well...Napoleon was only in Malta for six days and he managed to end slavery, create twelve municipalities, and establish their current public finance, judicial, and public education systems. Say what you will about Napoleon's efficiency...that still requires a tremendous ability to take direction. They never even revolted against British imperialism, instead quietly gaining independence through diplomatic negotiations in 1964. They're a beautiful island nation. You can see some of their breathtaking scenery in the first season of Game of Thrones. However, seeing as Daenerys Targaryen's premiere nude scene and all of the scenes in and around Littlefinger's brothel were filmed in Malta...you may have been a little distracted from Malta's intrinsic beauty on a couple of occasions. But several films use Malta's picturesque scenery for filming locations, if at any point you were watching Gladiator, The Count of Monte Cristo, Cutthroat Island, Troy, or Never Say Never Again and thought "Wow, That is gorgeous"...the scene was probably shot in Malta. The photo at right shows a filming location for the movie Popeye. Tell me that you don't want to go there immediately. 

#1: Australia

I yearn for a land down under. If I ever win the lottery, or in the more likely case that my cancer scenario from the previous Friday Night Writes strikes, you all won't be seeing or hearing from me for at least a month. That's because I'll be taking my newly acquired resources or time and gallivanting off to embrace the wonders of Oceania. And it'll take about a month for me to even crack of the surface of all the things that I want to do in Australia. I've got little in interest in seeing the Australia that their tourism bureau hypes up. The Sydney Opera House may be among the world's most famous architectural feats but I've got little interest in fighting the masses to see it or Bondi Beach or Ayer's Rock. I'll take the road less traveled. Walkabouts are also fairly popular with visitors but I think that there's enough Outback for all of us...so that I might do. My Australian To Do List is a Sheppey long, but I'll share some of the highlights. I want to golf the longest golf course in the world. That would be Australia's Nullarbor Links. It might not be the longest in terms of playable distance, but it's 1365 kilometers long, as the holes are spread out along the Eyre Highway and spans the states of Western Australia and Southern Australia. I'd love to trek the Daintree Rainforest via bushwalks, morning river cruises, and 4WD tours...maybe even take part in one of their crocodile spotting expeditions. I'd love to swim with the dolphins at Monkey Mia, do some wine tasting in Hunter Valley, and play some baccarat at the Crown Casino in Melbourne. I might even join the crowds to engage in some of the more worthwhile tourist experiences such as climbing the Sydney Harbor Bridge, swimming in Lake McKenzie on Fraser Island, and scuba diving the Great Barrier Reef. I also might climb Mt. Kosciuszko. That way if I ever get to the top of Kilimanjaro I can tell people that I've climbed two of the Seven Summits to impress them, despite the fact that with a prominence of 7130 ft, it wouldn't even be the most challenging mountain I've conquered to date.


Thanks for reading. It's blog contest time. The first person who can correctly identify the six countries in this post's title graphic and post them in the comments will get $10.00 mailed to them by yours truly.

Ray's Top 5: Manliest Men

In honor of he who is all that is man, I felt that this was an appropriate weekly Top 5 topic. It seems appropriate in the wake of a post about Nicolas Cage, a man who proclaims that he regularly goes home and fucks the prom queen, can hot-wire a car in less than 60 seconds, and can eat a peach for hours. Here are Ray's Top 5 Manliest Men of all-time and shoo-ins for induction into the inaugural Man Hall of Fame ceremony in July.

5. Kevin Sorbo     b. 1958

Contrary to what legend might lead you to believe, Kevin Sorbo is actually much more manly than his fictional counterpart Hercules. Hercules might share his fantastic feathered hair and divinely chiseled abs, but the Sorbs lives a manly life that doesn't require one to build it up with hyperbolic legend. This is the main reason that Sorbo was able to beat out Isaiah Mustafa (Old Spice Guy) for the final spot (making me look like a racist for not having any diversity on this list), his manliness is based in reality. We're not looking for any smoke and mirrors here. The Most Interesting Man in the World and Chuck Norris are surely manly men, but their manliness levels have been highly elevated by ridiculous tales of whimsical accomplishments. Sure every man would love to have their blood smell like cologne and have their beard listed on their organ donor registration, but those things aren't manly...they're just ridiculous. The Sorb Daddy doesn't need to resort to these. What's wrong with just being a regular manly man without leaning on hyperbole. Kevin Sorbo is devoted husband and father. He's a masculine presence who has embodied such roles as Kull the Conquerer and who took over the Nick Prescott "Walking Tall" series from The Rock. And he's a survivor, whether it be surviving the tough Minnesota winters that he's had to deal with for most of his life to the three strokes that he survived in the 1990s. He's a self-made man who put himself through college and even with a promising modeling and acting career he has put this education to work. Being a truly well-rounded man is also about intelligence. He's directed for television, he offers thoughtful non-partisan political commentary as an interested party in agorism, and has authored a book. He's also good friends with Bruce Campbell, another card-carrying member of the Man Hall of Fame.

4. Grigory Rasputin     1869-1916

A major problem with people today is that they do an excessive amount of bitching and whining. People are constantly using Twitter and Facebook to let me know every little misfortune that arises during their day. And people are constantly flaking out on me because they are tired or have come down with some minor illness. Manliness is about being tough while taking what life gives you and dealing with it. If you've got fluish symptoms there is one person who is bound to have no sympathy for you: Grigory Rasputin. He was one tough motherfucker. Two and a half years before his death, he was stabbed repeatedly in the abdomen by a prostitute and had his intestines, liver, and stomach punctured. His assailant thought for sure that she had administered a mortal wound. He walked himself into the hospital and got patched right up. This act of manliness helped him prepare for the coup de grat.

When he was lured by Russian nobles to his assassination in 1916, they initially decided to poison him. They gave him massive amounts of cyanide, enough to easily kill five men, but it was unable to kill him due to his regular practice of mithridatism. Growing impatient some of the assassins went out to retrieve firearms and upon returning fired at Rasputin. Despite being hit at least four times, he was still able to grab Felix Yusupov and choke him out while muttering "You bad boy". He was then clubbed down by other members of the party, stabbed repeatedly, wrapped in a carpet with twine, and thrown into a freezing river. He was able to claw his way out of the bindings and despite his practically drowning he was deemed to have eventually died of hypothermia. Some reports claim that he did actually drown, but any way you want to slice it he survived for almost an entire day what almost no other man could. The varied reports stem from the fact that the original autopsy report along with several researchers who had seen it disappeared during the Stalin Era. But during no account is his manly pain threshhold debated. It is also alleged that for as ugly a man as he was, he did quite well with the ladies. His sexual conquests insinuate that he dipped his little comrade into many a Romanov duchess and let it soak...if you catch my drift. And that's why he's on this list and not Wilt Chamberlain. Any celebrity who is horny enough and has enough time on his hands can sleep with 20,000 women. We're all about degree of difficulty here. Try sleeping with the Grand Pooh Bah's main squeeze. That is ballsy. As celebrated fictional manly man Omar Little would say: "How you expect to run with the wolves come night when you spend all day sparring with the puppies?"

3. Mike Gundy     b. 1967

This is the man who started it all. He is the reason why the Man Hall of Fame was started. If this Hall of Fame ever leaves my blog and becomes an actual building...they should probably put it in Stillwater, Oklahoma. The Man Hall of Fame is not about differentiating men and women. Women are perfectly capable of being tough, brave, and enjoying red meat. The Man Hall of Fame is about separating men from boys. It explores the passage from boyhood into manhood and who we should look towards to be the manliest that we can be. Well, Mike Gundy made me question what it really means to be a man with his now infamous "I'm a Man! I'm 40!" rant. Does simply being 40 make one a man? Or is there something more to it? While I certainly agree that Mike Gundy is a man, I have to disagree that it has anything to do with his age. I've met 13 year-olds that had been through so much and taken on such burdens that they qualify as full men, and I've met 40 year-olds who are still nothing more than little boys. There is no one thing that signifies the transition from boyhood into manhood. It's an endless journey that at some point crosses a threshold where people accept that you have made it. However, one of the biggest differences between men and boys is the responsibility and role of protector that they embody. That role of protector has shifted drastically over the years. Cavemen used to protect their loved ones from mighty beasts...now the threats are a little different. And that's where Mike Gundy comes in.

It's very hard for a manly man to tolerate bullying. And now with the proliferation of social media, such as the blog, we have entered an age of cyber-bullying. Anybody can be a bully now. It's not just for meat heads anymore. These days all you have to have is slightly thicker skin than the person who you're picking on. Well, with the current climate it is even harder on high-profile people. And oftentimes this is understood. If you're a movie star making millions of dollars in Hollywood...you have to put up with that. If you're a struggling college player with no pro prospects playing in Stillwater, Oklahoma...this criticism might be undue. So when somebody is bullying a member of your family, you have a responsibility as the pater familias to throw down the hammer on them. When it's another kid bullying your kid, as an adult you have to handle things like an adult and teach your kid how to land punches rather than landing them yourself. But if an adult is bullying one of your kids...you eviscerate them with as little mercy as possible. And when that means throwing a alleged misquoting, fact-stretching, media member out into the wolfpack that she is a part of in a post-game rant...I am all for it. Protecting one's family and loved one's is the most important responsibility of manhood. It is a man's primary duty above all others.

2. Mick Foley     b. 1965 

Mick Foley certainly qualifies for this list on multiple grounds of manliness. Anybody who knows the Mick Foley story knows that he has one of the highest pain thresholds of any human being out there. He lost his ear in match with Big Van Vader in 1993, he wrestled in Death Matches in Japan where they make use of barbed wire and light explosives, and his 1998 King of the Ring Hell in a Cell match against The Undertaker left him with a laundry list of real life injuries that made for the most amazing match in the history of wrestling. I am aware that professional wrestling is scripted. It is for all intents and purposes "fake". Steve Austin and Vince McMahon don't really go home and plot how to destroy each other. Kane isn't really a hideous burn victim. And when Al Snow is being hit in the head repeatedly with a steel chair, it isn't really landing with full force. However, don't confuse "fake" with "painless" or even "safe". Sometimes things hurt even worse than they look. And as far as the 1998 Hell in a Cell match goes...there isn't a way to fake falling off a 20+ foot structure onto your back, no matter what you land on. I think it's a large misnomer that an athlete has to play a sport. Because there are plenty of race car drivers and golfers who are not athletes but play a sport, and while pro wrestling is not a sport...pro wrestlers are most certainly athletes. And few athletes in any sport have taken more of a physical pounding than Mick Foley.

But his Man Hall of Fame induction isn't all about physical toughness and pain threshold. He also possesses a great deal of intellect and mental toughness. He has written numerous New York Times Bestsellers. And while Snooki may have proven that any dumb mook can have a book, I assure you it's significantly harder when you don't use a ghost writer and write it longhand by yourself in less than two months. He is well-spoken and thought-provoking. And the reason that he has developed such a cult of personality is because he knows what people want and he gives it to them. This is a man who gave up the chance at a WWE title and served a suspension because the fans at MSG were chanting his name and he decided that it would be a good idea to try and unscripted elbow drop on The Rock from the top of the cage. He also managed to cultivate such memorable and enjoyable characters during his time in the WWE and knew how to work a crowd. We know that matches are scripted, but most people don't realize that the promos that wrestlers spit are often not written for them. Wrestling actually requires a good deal of improvisational acting. Which is why really good promo guys like The Rock can go on to successful movie careers. And if anybody wants to bash The Rock's movie career I have only three words for you: Just. Bring. It.

1. Pat Tillman     b. 1976-2004

There are few things more respected by the masses in the United States of America than dignified
military service. Opinions may vary wildly on the necessity of various engagements that are military is involved in and the extent to which we spend government dollars on the military's dalliances into foreign matters, but few would debate that the American military is a necessary part of what makes America great. Few would also deny sacrifices of the 1.4 million fighting men and women who defend our country. And while there are benefits such as education grants and family insurance coverage...it's a job that most of us would not wish to take on. Which makes it even more impressive when a man who has a job that tens of millions of men desire and who has no need of education grants and family insurance coverage would voluntarily enlist to fight in the most dangerous warzone overseas in the prime of his lauded career. Many would try to answer the question of exactly why he would do this. In searching for the answer, we find the true pulp of what it means to be a man.

From anything we know about Pat Tillman, he had an extremely close relationship to his family and was exceedingly loyal to his friends and community. He turned down a 9 million dollar offer from the Rams to stay with the Cardinals for significantly less money. He and his brother both enlisted in May of 2002, his brother turning down an offer from the Cleveland Indians to do so. The September 11th attacks were cited as the impetus for his enlistment. Keeping those that he cared about safe was his first priority. And that is truly the manliest of all traits, prioritizing properly. Having a sense of duty and constantly keeping that in your line of sight is what we need more of in today's society. The historic duty of a man has been the protection of those over whom he is responsible, and while it may be a dated duty in our evolving modern society...it's still an important one. Chivalry and honor are not just some veiled tool of the patriarchy. They're a common decency that lights the way and sets an example for our children to aspire towards. It might be cliche for me to honor an athlete and war hero as the pinnacle of all that is man over an intellectual or a humanitarian. But I believe that men have to place the highest of value on loyalty, bravery, duty, and selflessness...and this is what Pat Tillman brought to the table.

Despite All My Rage...Buying Stuff From Nicolas Cage

Oh, How the Mighty Have Fallen...Into My Price Range. - Homer Simpson

The knowledgeable reader might recognize the above quote. The hilarious little quip in question comes from a Simpsons episode where Homer and the family go to Ranier Wolfcastle's Estate sale when Ranier went bankrupt. Well, I recently went to my own estate sale of a bankrupt A-List Hollywood action star. I am of course referring to the one and only Nicholas Cage. How does a huge Oscar-winning star who makes 10-20 million per movie go bankrupt? Gambling and an expensive wife is what I'm told, but I don't much care. The point is that I get to rummage through his shit and take a little piece of Cage for myself. 

Nicolas Cage is a national icon because of the extreme duality of his movie career. He's managed to stay relevant and a top earner because you can put his top five movies up against any other actor in Hollywood and he compares favorably. Whether you're taking his five best (Moonstruck, Adaptation, Leaving Las Vegas, Matchstick Men, and Raising Arizona...apologies to Red Rock West and Lord of War) or his five most enjoyable blockbuster films (The Rock, Face/Off, Con Air, Kick Ass, and National Treasure) he's tough to compete with when he's at his best. However, what truly separates him from the Russell Crowes and the Hugh Jackmans of the industry are just how bad he sinks when he's making a bomb. Clearly this estate sale means that he's in constant need of income and liquid assets and there isn't any need to read a script when some suit is waving 15 million dollars in front of your face. I don't even know if Pauly Shore can compare when you go in the opposite direction and play Cage's worst five films (difficult to pin down but I'll go with Bangkok Dangerous, G-Force, Season of the Witch, Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance, and The Wicker Man...with apologies to Knowing, Drive Angry, and Deadfall). 

But that's where his cult status comes from. He can't just be bad in a bad film...he gazes deep into the shitty script that he's selected and realizes that the only way to salvage this situation is to try and go with the "So bad it loops back around and becomes good again approach". And it almost works sometimes...almost. Vampire's Kiss probably succeeds. Bad Lieutenant definitely succeeds. Next and Knowing...not so much. The Wicker Man...well, it has it's moment. So basically, you get a man who has launched himself to a new level of stardom simply by inventing his own school of acting...which looks a lot like this:

And that's what makes this estate sale even more special. That clip doesn't even show him playing the role of a skeleton with it's skull on fire. This is a man revered on reddit simply as The One True God. Nobody cares if you have Jason Statham's coffee table or Denzel Washington's wine rack. Hell, I know for a fact that there's a guy out there, in Wisconsin no less, who has failed with pick-up line: "Would you like to see Brett Favre's pick-up truck?" Apparently, it's a little short on the pick-up. But anything owned by the Cage is guaranteed to make the ladies swoon and the fellas jealous. So I of course made a short list of what I hoped to obtain from Cage Manor. I'm always looking for new art to add to my apartment's ever-growing collection (more on that in a future post). Any furniture that wouldn't break the bank would certainly be welcome (this idea was quickly scrapped...homeboy has some expensive tastes). But most importantly...I wanted the man's silverware. As much of it as I could get my grubby, little hands on. I wanted to be able to have separate silverware for special occasions like the top-flight muckety mucks do. "Oh...we're having company. Bring out the Cage silverware!"

Sadly my dreams of snagging Cage's silverware were not to be. You have to get up pretty early in

the morning, or at least skip work and go on the opening Friday, to snag the good, affordable Cage commodities. But there were still some decent pickings on Saturday. RJ, Bley, Erin, and myself left fairly early on Saturday morning. We picked up Erin at about 10am and while we waited outside for her we were treated to the sight of a woman blatantly shitting in the alley across the street. There was no sincere attempt to obscure her actions. She just dropped trou, leaned against the wall, and had at it. I'm not sure if this tidbit of information is apropos of anything, but we certainly didn't need a bad omen like this when right before heading into the jaws of Nicolas Cage's estate. I don't know what horrors have taken place at his Hancock Park mansion, but let's not forget that this man bought Madame LaLaurie's torture house in New Orleans. He purchased the house of a serial killer who is currently a character on American Horror Story, a show whose first season is about a house filled with ghosts who murder the inhabitants of their haunted house. But who am I to throw stones? These are the kind of ill-advised investments that afford me the opportunity to walk away with his loot.

When we pulled up to the Casa de Cage we were immediately greeted by the crown jewel of the sale, the Burgundy pick-up truck that he got from the film Amos and Andy. As much of a steal as this customized gem was at a cool $15,000...the fact that I'll still be paying off my 2005 Honda Civic for three more years means that I'll have to look for some more reasonably priced wares. The furniture wasn't going to fall into this category either. My man likes Corinthian leather. Perhaps if somebody were to introduce him to an IKEA, he'd have a few less estate sales. I scoured the art collection for a piece that would work well the pieces that I already have hanging on my walls. The vast majority of his art is Oriental. I'm guessing Charlie Yeung's underwear wasn't the only souvenir of his time filming Bangkok Dangerous. There was also a drawing of Winston Churchill, done by Winston Churchill's daughter. That one cost more than I make in a month. However, in what appeared to be his study I found a framed needlepoint of an old man smoking a pipe. It's not exactly in line with what I currently have, but I recently got two pointillism pieces that I really dig, and a needlepoint fits well with those. I had to get it. 

I was understandably disappointed that there was no silverware to be had, but there was some

swank blown glassware to be had. So if I want to pour myself a frosty one, I can do so in the same chalices that previously adorned Cage's dining room. In his son's bedroom I found another gem. I love myself a good board game. I'm always down to play Settlers of Catan, The Resistance, Trivial Pursuit, Scattergories...or even Risk if I've got a fortnight to burn. I'm consistently looking to add to my board game collection, and at $4.00 how could I not snag Caster Troy's copy of Clue? Or was it Sean Archer? And the last piece I added to my collection was a chest. The seller wouldn't expressly confirm it, but I'm fairly confident that this is the same chest that he used to store his bow and arrows from The Weatherman and collection of erotic City of Angels fan fiction. RJ also got a nice little haul. Primarily this globe lamp that dates from 1992. I can tell that because Turkmenistan is a country but Bosnia and Herzegovina is not (totally bragging). He probably got this during Honeymoon in Vegas and keeps it around as a constant reminder that Indecent Proposal totally ripped off the plot of his movie and not the other way around like everybody thinks. So now that I've got my own Cage Cache, you should be jealous. In the meantime, I'll be enjoying some Carlo Rossi Zinfandel out of homeboy's chalices and waiting for Keanu Reeves to go bankrupt. I saw 47 Ronin. It shouldn't be long now.

Friday Night Writes: The Topic of Cancer

This is based less on Friday night Reno's discussions and more on actual events that are happening within my life right now. I recently found out that a friend of mine had cancer. My natural inclination is to try and comfort this person and let them know that I'm pulling for them and that I'm here to help. However, shortly after I purchased a card and made plans to visit said friend, I was informed by the person who had shared news of their malady with me that I should hold off because they didn't want anybody to know. This makes total sense to me. I understood the rationale behind it completely and know that should I ever be afflicted with cancer...I'd probably handle things the same way. However, another friend who had just found out about the diagnosis couldn't wrap her head around it. Why would you not be willing to share your diagnosis with loved ones? Why hold that secret? Why not open yourself up to their care and support? Don't you owe it to them in your relationship with them to let them know? I figured we should probably analyze this debate with the following hypothetical:

You have just been diagnosed with terminal cancer. It will require occasional treatment but the physical symptoms will not become noticeable until very shortly before you die. You're doctor says that you'll die sometime between July 1, 2019 - December 31, 2019 and he says this with certainty. Who do you tell and when do you tell them?

I can easily tell you what I would do. That doesn't mean that it's an easy answer for everybody. If the diagnosis came today...I wouldn't tell a single soul. And I wouldn't tell them until I'm extremely close to death. I'd probably tell my family during the final week of June 2019...just in case I go quickly. It has nothing to do with comfort or support. It has nothing to do with sparing them pain or grief. It has nothing to do with shame or fear or their right to know. It has to do with the fact that I'm a sociopath. I like my life the way it is. I like most of my relationships the way they are. A cancer diagnosis would jeopardize all that. When you have cancer, people will start treating you better. However, by it's very nature this means that they start treating you differently. Many of my favorite relationships are very likely to begin with the greeting "What's Up, Douchebag?" That's just how we talk. There's a high degree of mutual insulting and mockery in regards to past, present, and potential future failures. I think this would practically disappear if people knew that I had cancer. Whatever right people might think that they have to know if I'm terminally ill, that right is severely overrun by my right to live the last five to six years of my life the way I so choose. And I would choose to do so with my relationships unchanged.

I don't want people to treat me any better because it's not honest. And the worst part is not the excess kindness or regard that you're granted by others: it's the pity. If there is one thing that I will not abide from people it's their god damn pity. This also stems from an advanced level of narcissistic sociopathy. I think that I'm the greatest thing since KFC introduced the Double Down. You don't believe me? The NSA can vouch for me. I'm confident that when they illegally tap into my shower webcam they sometimes pick up my daily affirmations in the bathroom mirror. They sound a lot like Abileen Clark in The Help. "You is kind. You is smart. You is important." And because of this narcissism, there is absolutely no reason that I want idiotic, insipid pity from people that I think I have it better than. Pity is insulting to the utmost degree. I try really hard to never pity myself...I sure as shit don't want anybody else doing it. If anything people should be treating me worse because I'm blowing tons of money on travelling all over the globe in my final years and they're super jealous. I am not a person who usually believes that the ends justifies the means. Therefore, I care why somebody is acting a certain way and not simply that they are acting a certain way. I want people to like me and respect me because I'm the greatest person they can bear witness to in their lives...not because I am terminally ill. It's a mistake not to look beyond people's decisions towards the motivations that are behind those decisions.

There is one exception to this. It doesn't apply to me now, but it would apply to a great number of people who would be considering this hypothetical. If I had a wife or a serious girlfriend, I would tell them immediately. My choice not to tell people revolves around living the life that I want to live. People might argue that I owe something to other people to let them know, as my existence bears an impact on the lives of others. No man is an island, and all that nonsense. However, if I were to die, my parents, my siblings, and my friends would not be forced to drastically change the direction of their life in response to my demise. A significant other would. Because it is imperative that I give my significant other the necessary opportunity to prepare for life without me, they will need to know right away. Obviously, I know exactly where I stand on this issue. But this wouldn't be a proper Friday Night Writes debate without exploring both sides so I'd like to take a look at the rationale behind sharing this information with other people. I sent this conundrum out to several friends and here is a look at five responses (each participant will remain anonymous with only an identifying letter, the letter is not their first initial...so quit trying to guess if you think you know them) that differed from my own:

"I would tell my close friends and family after the initial shock wore off. What if someone had something complimentary to say about my character before it was too late? I want to give them a chance." - J.

This viewpoint appears to be a mixture of wanting to provide friends and family with some measure of closure at the prospect of your passing while also looking to soak in the pleasantries that are one of the few fortunate side effects of terminal illness. These are fair points of view but they're not considerations that I haven't already taken into account. So while I can respect J.'s thoughts on the matter...this way of thinking has no sway on my own stance.

"I think I tell only a close few friends immediately. Just so I don't have to carry that burden entirely myself. That would be hard. But family would never know. Not worth my parents and family members worrying about." - U.

"I still would take this news very badly. I don't think I would be very strong. Tragically, I already feel life's futility weighing heavy... if I were to be given the actual time span I think I would be a wreck. I would tell my parents because I pretty much tell them everything. I would tell them probably immediately after I found out. I would act according to whatever my Mom suggests I do." - C.

The "Who" that is being informed in these two answers are totally different, but they're stemming

from the same basic need on the part of the afflicted. That is the need to not have to carry this burden by themselves. The confrontation with one's inevitable demise can lead people on dramatically different paths. Some people take the diagnosis and are able to squeeze every last drop of beauty out of their remaining days. However, the more likely occurrence is that depression is likely to visit regularly in one's final days and dark thoughts might constantly be on one's mind. In order to combat this it probably would be highly beneficial to have a confidante with whom you can discuss your thoughts and feelings. Knowledge such as you possess is surely a burden and by not keeping that knowledge a total secret, you'd be able to share the burden. I get it. This confidante sounds like a very useful relationship to have. 

However, there's an issue of trust here. Do you have anybody in your life that you could trust with

this information that would never allow it leave the sacred you-them safety zone? I truly am happy for you if you do. However, I dare say that there are many people who do not. I think that I might be one of them. This doesn't mean that I don't recognize that I have several great friends. I think my friends are exceedingly loyal and I think that they care deeply about me. And that's where the problems start. I'm dead set on not having anybody know that I'm dying of cancer. I have my reasons. Almost anybody I know who could qualify as a confidante is likely going to try and understand my rationalizations. This would be a mistake. They're my rationalizations. I know what's best for me. I always have. However, I have never been able to convince other people that I know what's best for me. They have a dreadful habit of thinking that what I say I want and what I really want are two different things. They start realizing all of the alleged great things that could happen for me if I had more love and support in my life and before you know it other people know and it snowballs from there. 

Benjamin Franklin said: "Three people can keep a secret, if two of them are dead." And it's

understandable why he said this. Knowledge is currency. In order to ensure that the person I'm confiding in could keep the secret just between the two of us, I'd have to know that they were the person that I could trust the most in the world and vice versa. I already said that I would tell my wife or fiance. That's the most important person in your life. That's the contract that we make. Therefore, if I were to tell my best friend, and he had a significant other...I'm not the most important person in his life. He is almost contractually obligated to share this information with her. He shouldn't risk damaging their relationship by keeping such a huge secret from her. And much like I need help coping with the fact that I'm dying, he would probably need help coping with the fact that his best friend is dying...from somebody who is not dying. Therefore, all roads lead to telling her...and from there I lose containment on the information. I appreciate your input U. and C. but I remain unconvinced.

"I tell my family right away. I tell my friends about a year before the termination start date. I tell my employer at the termination start date when I quit." - S.

Wait. What? Why would you work all the way up until your termination date? S. has more money than I'd know what to do with. Can I get a clarification here? 

Clarification received. He's assuming that despite his current lack of a relationship, children, or desire for children, his impending fate will provoke in him a need to propagate his legacy. He'll likely try to father some children and wants to leave them financially secure. OK. That's not how I'm thinking about things...but I get it.

"I'm what you would call a sharer.  I share a lot of myself with people - I've heard that may not be healthy because it blurs your boundaries of what truly makes you who you are vs. who you want to or should be with others, but besides the occasional bully who I make uncomfortable by being myself and takes it out on me via teasing, I have yet to run into any major issues with it.  If I were to find out I was going to die within that six month period, I would tell everyone.  Maybe not immediately, but I would bet within a year everyone who knows me would know I was going to die.  My reasoning is simple - because armed with the knowledge of the almost-exact date of my death, I believe it would give me a chance to truly live.  I would feel 100% free to be myself and share even MORE of myself with others (I mean my inner thoughts, not flashing people).  Knowing the symptoms wouldn't show until shortly before my death, I would use all of the time between now and 7/1/19 to go places I've never been, try things I've never done and spend quality time with people I love, all before I wouldn't be able to.  I suppose all of this could be done without me telling others that it will end in my death in late 2019, but there is a specific kind of genuity you see in people when death is at the door.  And since it would be MY death knocking, I would want all of my interactions to be as genuine and loving as possible." - A.

What you see presented by A. is the exact opposite of the rationalization that I presented above. But it's the only answer so far that provides me with serious food for thought. A's perspective seems to be the total opposite of mine. I can see where the schism comes and it's something that I hadn't considered in this context previously. He’s acknowledging that people are going to treat you differently when you have cancer. He’s just saying that the new way that they’re treating you is real. The way that they’ve treated you for the majority of the rest of your life is the lie. That bulk of time is the charade. Your relationship with them is like the Matrix and your cancer diagnosis allows your relationship to enter the real world. It allows it to realize itself. Well, now we’re just getting into a question of whether or not perception is reality. But the food for thought is there. There’s no question that I hold back my esteem for certain people because I’m worried that if I’m overtly complimentary of them, they’ll get weirded out and start to think of me as more of a fan than a friend. And I understand the sentiment. I don’t take praise particularly well. It makes me feel weird and unnatural. But that just doesn’t seem right. We should be free to tell each other just how great we are. We need to be able to look into each other’s eyes, get “real”, and tell each other how we feel. So if you agree with my boy A. then live as your true self and tell me why you think I’m so great in the comments. If you agree with me, please feel free to slander my good name in the comments below to show that your standard state of disdain for me is more than just the status quo…prove that it’s genuine.