Inspection- Never Marry a Fish
I don’t get it.
I just don’t get it.
Is this some macho, “Mine’s bigger, better and more fancier than yours,” routine? Doesn’t matter the topic; the things people are snarky about: damn near come to death blows sometimes… it all just seems so wrong headed to me. Yet, of those things that have been considered lighter fare’ by the general public; something we shouldn’t take too seriously, I’ve always been quite earnest about.
When I came out of the ACME Robot and Whoopee Cushion factory that was my mother’s womb, was my model last on the conveyor belt, and Wiley Coyote screwed my head on backwards? Or did he accidentally put it on right?
Let’s start with politics and religion...
I grew up in a family where we debated politics at the family dinner table. It was even more important than Mom’s Sunday fried chicken. Seriously, my Mom was a rather blase’ cook overall, but no one, I repeat NO ONE, disliked her fried chicken. It took me years to accidentally discover her artery clogging; bacon grease-goodness, secret; and that was after she died when I was quite young and I became the cook in the family.
But family debate? We reveled in it. We wallowed in it. I am reminded of a toon I saw one with a group of priests wearing those tall hats topped by big letter "N." The caption...
As the passing of the years have quickly cranked up from a very young man’s slow drip n’ drizzle, to a spinster’s carousel gone wacky and out of control, I’ve notice just how personal people take it when you disagree with them. These days I almost never discuss either in public: you only lose friends and the state of the art in argument has gone from mutual respect to…
Richard Nixon; who was often considered a “cold fish,” met with protesters and discussed the Vietnam War. Now, instead, we have supposedly “folksy” W sneering at them from afar. Since some believe the Pope is direct in-line successor to who they consider the first Pope: Jesus, the greatest fear of the 60 election was that one candidate being Catholic might mean that JFK would let the Pope make his decisions. Now the concern seems to be that a candidate might not be enough of a Christian: and the proper flavor too. We’ve gone from wanting candidates to be independent to demanding they regurgitate theocratically correct belief. We’ve gotten closer to both the Inquisition and the Crusades.
Sometimes it makes me wish we when we pick that “flavor,” we then invite in the cannibal constituency for a very personal meeting with the candidates who mouth the most theologically correct catch phrases. Bring the pickles, don’t hold the lettuce, eating smarmy politicians might not upset us?
Something to think about.
I’ll provide the condiments.
And this religi-o-ci-idiocy has cross pollinated far too often… with a redneck deciding he’ll march into a church and take out a few Liberals who he knew had to be to blame for him losing his job, for example.
Thanks, Rush.
Thanks, Sean.
Thanks Ann, Michelle and Michael.
We have taken our opinions all too seriously. One of my in-laws, whenever I visit, has a plentiful supply of fill blank sentences that I politely ignore. Basically, whomever is the Democratic candidate, or pundit, of the moment; whether Hillary, Barack, Harry Reed, Michael Moore….
I seriously doubt she even hears a thing that person says. When, and why, did politics become exactly like hating the Yankees or the Mets: senseless, brainless and automatic because they’re “the other team?” OK, I kind of, sort of, partially understand some of this; considering that both politics and religion concern very important matters. I just think “being right” and “ego” have become as bad as the head of the little league team in California a few years ago who responded to the jeers of the winning team. He marched his little army up to the other coaches house and they burned it down: with the coach in it. Yes, seems as of late homicidal morons who take things all too seriously have helped society go where massively bloated egos should have never gone before… So this isn’t just about politics. This isn’t just about religion. Taking things we should simply enjoy far too seriously has invaded some of the most stupifying silly areas one can imagine.
For example, I have been homebrewing since it was made legal in the late 70s. I enjoy making my own product. But when I hear home brewers argue about whose equipment is better, the exact temp or making whose “clone” of a rather blase’ commercial beer is closer, is it me that “doesn’t get it?” I just want to enjoy the company of those who make their own unique product; not get all anal about it. Yet some of the arguments I’ve witnessed, had with a supposedly “professional” BJCP (Beer Judge Certification) official and seen in at least one homebrew club I am a member of, have damn near come to blows.
About…“beer???”
I can’t discuss squat with most people who fish these days. I enjoy going out occasionally and tossing out a line. If I don’t catch a thing, I don’t care. It’s kind of like hunting, I enjoy the experience of being there: in a wilderness area; listening to the wind, the water lap against the shore, the occasional otter swim-playing his way through life… I don’t need or have the slightest desire to buy some damn fish finder. No stinking helicopter hunts for me: such slaughter seems to totally miss the point and be sadistic… at best. Competing seems absurd: I’m out there to enjoy the experience. Discussions about the best kind of pole bore me and seem to be phallus driven; even when a woman does it.
We probably can permanently close all operating rooms exclusively used for male sex change operations. Just get them debating whose team, whose brewing equipment, whose candidate, whose pole is better. Sometimes when they talk, debate and, yes, damn near go ballistic about which lure is best, who has the best fishing hole or what brand fish pheromones is preferable, I swear I can see the male parts getting bigger. Ewe, gross.
(All that serious sex between Egyptian rulers and their charges. Could their “discharges” have been due, in part, to… “Pharaoh… moans?”)
Puns aside… way off to the side… anal arguments and actual fights over fishing, beer making, sports… what’s next, a murder at a Trek convention because one Trekkie claims that his Spock ears are the best don’t seem “logical?”
I don’t think we should take everything lightly, but what I consider “serious” others have think we shouldn’t take so seriously. During the early 70s/late 60s; my dating years, I was told, “Oh, you take things too seriously: let’s just have fun.” What, you want to do probably the most personal thing two people can ever do together and laugh it off? Participating in ‘dating;’ which is a ritual meant to help you find THE person you’re going to spend… hopefully… the rest of your life with, and you want me to treat this like some empty-headed, brainless, soon to be infected with AIDS, Disco queen?
I must have it all backwards; the things I consider serious and those I just want to relax and enjoy. Well, at least that’s what I’ve been told more than a few times. But then I go back to that family table, smile an inward smile only I can see, and say, “Well, sorry, I just disagree.”
I’ve will have spent 31 years married to the same wonderful woman by the time October 8th rolls around, so at least one of us must have done something right. And the rest? Well, I haven’t burned any houses, discuss politics and religion via the web as much as I can, and still get great joy tasting and brewing less than “to style” weird beers.
So, considering what little happiness I have found being more of a “maverick” than John McCain’s PR people would have you believe he is, what advice would I have for those crazy enough to follow my lead?
Well, first, don’t follow… think. But I would also suggest…
…that the things most people go overboard about usually mean diddly-squat, and the more personal decisions: things people often seem most cavalier about, should probably be taken a bit more seriously.
And, oh, a few more bits of “wisdom…”
…never date your beer, never get too whacked out about sports, never be so egocentric over issues: many we’ve argued since the dawn of humanity, to believe only people who agree with you have all; or even most of, the right answers...
and… … never, never, never marry a fish.
-30-
Inspection is a column that has been written by Ken Carman for over thirty years. Inspection is dedicated to looking at odd angles, under all the rocks and into the unseen cracks and crevasses that constitute the issues and philosophical constructs of our day: places few think, or even dare, to venture.
I just don’t get it.
Is this some macho, “Mine’s bigger, better and more fancier than yours,” routine? Doesn’t matter the topic; the things people are snarky about: damn near come to death blows sometimes… it all just seems so wrong headed to me. Yet, of those things that have been considered lighter fare’ by the general public; something we shouldn’t take too seriously, I’ve always been quite earnest about.
When I came out of the ACME Robot and Whoopee Cushion factory that was my mother’s womb, was my model last on the conveyor belt, and Wiley Coyote screwed my head on backwards? Or did he accidentally put it on right?
Let’s start with politics and religion...
I grew up in a family where we debated politics at the family dinner table. It was even more important than Mom’s Sunday fried chicken. Seriously, my Mom was a rather blase’ cook overall, but no one, I repeat NO ONE, disliked her fried chicken. It took me years to accidentally discover her artery clogging; bacon grease-goodness, secret; and that was after she died when I was quite young and I became the cook in the family.
But family debate? We reveled in it. We wallowed in it. I am reminded of a toon I saw one with a group of priests wearing those tall hats topped by big letter "N." The caption...
...no, "nothing" was "sacred" when it came to our debates and discussions… except the personal, like Mom’s cancer. I even fought that; inner family “we don’t talk about THAT,” “conspiracy.” So it’s no surprise I was baffled when I left home and found out discussing politics and religion was verboten. I was closing in on 20 before I heard, for the first time, the age old mantra about not discussing religion and politics.“Is nothing sacred?”
As the passing of the years have quickly cranked up from a very young man’s slow drip n’ drizzle, to a spinster’s carousel gone wacky and out of control, I’ve notice just how personal people take it when you disagree with them. These days I almost never discuss either in public: you only lose friends and the state of the art in argument has gone from mutual respect to…
“Ugh, you disagree wid me make you moron. I verbally abuse you til you ider shut up or agree.”
Richard Nixon; who was often considered a “cold fish,” met with protesters and discussed the Vietnam War. Now, instead, we have supposedly “folksy” W sneering at them from afar. Since some believe the Pope is direct in-line successor to who they consider the first Pope: Jesus, the greatest fear of the 60 election was that one candidate being Catholic might mean that JFK would let the Pope make his decisions. Now the concern seems to be that a candidate might not be enough of a Christian: and the proper flavor too. We’ve gone from wanting candidates to be independent to demanding they regurgitate theocratically correct belief. We’ve gotten closer to both the Inquisition and the Crusades.
Sometimes it makes me wish we when we pick that “flavor,” we then invite in the cannibal constituency for a very personal meeting with the candidates who mouth the most theologically correct catch phrases. Bring the pickles, don’t hold the lettuce, eating smarmy politicians might not upset us?
Something to think about.
I’ll provide the condiments.
And this religi-o-ci-idiocy has cross pollinated far too often… with a redneck deciding he’ll march into a church and take out a few Liberals who he knew had to be to blame for him losing his job, for example.
Thanks, Rush.
Thanks, Sean.
Thanks Ann, Michelle and Michael.
“This is DJ Satan; and the hate radio, hate speech, inspired hits just keep on coming…”
We have taken our opinions all too seriously. One of my in-laws, whenever I visit, has a plentiful supply of fill blank sentences that I politely ignore. Basically, whomever is the Democratic candidate, or pundit, of the moment; whether Hillary, Barack, Harry Reed, Michael Moore….
“I hate him (her)” “His (her) voice is so annoying.” “He (she) is so disgusting.”
I seriously doubt she even hears a thing that person says. When, and why, did politics become exactly like hating the Yankees or the Mets: senseless, brainless and automatic because they’re “the other team?” OK, I kind of, sort of, partially understand some of this; considering that both politics and religion concern very important matters. I just think “being right” and “ego” have become as bad as the head of the little league team in California a few years ago who responded to the jeers of the winning team. He marched his little army up to the other coaches house and they burned it down: with the coach in it. Yes, seems as of late homicidal morons who take things all too seriously have helped society go where massively bloated egos should have never gone before… So this isn’t just about politics. This isn’t just about religion. Taking things we should simply enjoy far too seriously has invaded some of the most stupifying silly areas one can imagine.
For example, I have been homebrewing since it was made legal in the late 70s. I enjoy making my own product. But when I hear home brewers argue about whose equipment is better, the exact temp or making whose “clone” of a rather blase’ commercial beer is closer, is it me that “doesn’t get it?” I just want to enjoy the company of those who make their own unique product; not get all anal about it. Yet some of the arguments I’ve witnessed, had with a supposedly “professional” BJCP (Beer Judge Certification) official and seen in at least one homebrew club I am a member of, have damn near come to blows.
About…“beer???”
I can’t discuss squat with most people who fish these days. I enjoy going out occasionally and tossing out a line. If I don’t catch a thing, I don’t care. It’s kind of like hunting, I enjoy the experience of being there: in a wilderness area; listening to the wind, the water lap against the shore, the occasional otter swim-playing his way through life… I don’t need or have the slightest desire to buy some damn fish finder. No stinking helicopter hunts for me: such slaughter seems to totally miss the point and be sadistic… at best. Competing seems absurd: I’m out there to enjoy the experience. Discussions about the best kind of pole bore me and seem to be phallus driven; even when a woman does it.
We probably can permanently close all operating rooms exclusively used for male sex change operations. Just get them debating whose team, whose brewing equipment, whose candidate, whose pole is better. Sometimes when they talk, debate and, yes, damn near go ballistic about which lure is best, who has the best fishing hole or what brand fish pheromones is preferable, I swear I can see the male parts getting bigger. Ewe, gross.
(All that serious sex between Egyptian rulers and their charges. Could their “discharges” have been due, in part, to… “Pharaoh… moans?”)
Puns aside… way off to the side… anal arguments and actual fights over fishing, beer making, sports… what’s next, a murder at a Trek convention because one Trekkie claims that his Spock ears are the best don’t seem “logical?”
I don’t think we should take everything lightly, but what I consider “serious” others have think we shouldn’t take so seriously. During the early 70s/late 60s; my dating years, I was told, “Oh, you take things too seriously: let’s just have fun.” What, you want to do probably the most personal thing two people can ever do together and laugh it off? Participating in ‘dating;’ which is a ritual meant to help you find THE person you’re going to spend… hopefully… the rest of your life with, and you want me to treat this like some empty-headed, brainless, soon to be infected with AIDS, Disco queen?
I must have it all backwards; the things I consider serious and those I just want to relax and enjoy. Well, at least that’s what I’ve been told more than a few times. But then I go back to that family table, smile an inward smile only I can see, and say, “Well, sorry, I just disagree.”
I’ve will have spent 31 years married to the same wonderful woman by the time October 8th rolls around, so at least one of us must have done something right. And the rest? Well, I haven’t burned any houses, discuss politics and religion via the web as much as I can, and still get great joy tasting and brewing less than “to style” weird beers.
So, considering what little happiness I have found being more of a “maverick” than John McCain’s PR people would have you believe he is, what advice would I have for those crazy enough to follow my lead?
Well, first, don’t follow… think. But I would also suggest…
…that the things most people go overboard about usually mean diddly-squat, and the more personal decisions: things people often seem most cavalier about, should probably be taken a bit more seriously.
And, oh, a few more bits of “wisdom…”
…never date your beer, never get too whacked out about sports, never be so egocentric over issues: many we’ve argued since the dawn of humanity, to believe only people who agree with you have all; or even most of, the right answers...
and… … never, never, never marry a fish.
-30-
Inspection is a column that has been written by Ken Carman for over thirty years. Inspection is dedicated to looking at odd angles, under all the rocks and into the unseen cracks and crevasses that constitute the issues and philosophical constructs of our day: places few think, or even dare, to venture.
