The Rules of War

(In honor of this blog being read in Russia for the first time, I dedicate this post to the masters of the slash and burn technique. Froze a certain Nazi douchebag right in his tracks during World War II)

I feel like wars can be over in like, three seconds nowadays. Which really leads to the question of why the hell American troops have been in Iraq for like, twenty years now, but that's another post for another day. Warfare used to be more civilized right?

There's something about standing in lines and just shooting at each other that seems more fair doesn't it?

Couldn't wars be won based on things other than weaponry and money? It could save a lot of money and blood.

So let's put aside all of the jets and WMD's and just make up five new rules of engagement for warfare in today's society.

1. World leaders should be involved in slap fights. Wouldn't all Americans love to see Barack Obama lay the smack down on Muammar Quaddafi?

Oh wait, that can't happen anymore.

What about Kim Jong-Il? Oh.

Too soon?

2. Has anyone seen You Don't Mess With the Zohan? All dissension that's been going on for more than twenty years needs to be decided with a hacky sack. It's so democratic it hurts.

3. Beauty contests should decide all land disputes. Sorry residents of Uglystan.

4. All guns should be replaced with wiffleball bats. Youtube would crash with the amount of videos being posted. And people everywhere would care about wars, especially if it meant seeing others get nailed in the genitals with a yellow stick.

5. The first country that can successfully sing "We Are The Champions" in its entirety wins. No disputes. Bonus points awarded for dressing like Freddie Mercury. I'm talking to you here you here of Norway.

Also, you can't win anything just because you say "I win." The global climate should not be decided by an argument that any three year-old can make.

Though when you think about it, are politicians any better than toddlers?

Thoughts?

Surprise!

I hate surprises.

Let me rephrase that: I actually love surprises, but I hate when I know something is coming but don't know what it is.

And of course, I'm always the recipient of the "you're gonna LOVE what I got you for (insert special occasion here)". And usually, I imagine that I'm getting a new car or something and end up with a brand spanking new ballpoint pen.

I hate the guessing game. When I know something is coming my way, I tend to try not to think about it. It limits my stress, and I think limits the stress of the person that's doing the surprising. And anyway, I normally don't NEED anything, so it's pretty easy for me to figure things out.

I haven't been surprised about a gift in roughly six years. I guess that I'm just a natural detective.

Of course, there are things in life that I find surprising. Among them are that:

-I had no idea that Jon Jones would defeat Mauricio Rua for the UFC Light Heavyweight title in March. If I had, I could have made some money.

-I had no idea that ALL women perfume their lady parts. It's just a fact.

-I had no idea that a Christmas CD is only acceptable if it has two versions each, count them TWO of "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas" AND "Baby, It's Cold Outside."

-It is possible to die from a disorder known as "cute overload."

-The housing market in California is cheaper than New York.

-I was very surprised to find that there really is no difference in taste between Dr. Pepper and Diet Dr. Pepper.

A random sampling to be sure, but that probably accounts for 80% of the things that surprise me these days.

Let's remember, I'm a New Yorker.

D'OH. Or Dough. Money...That's What I'm Talking About

I was feeling really good last night. Invigorated, almost like I could do anything.

Isn't it funny how fleeting those moments can be?

What I wouldn't give to be able to sustain that feeling for a lifetime. But true happiness can never last that long can it? I'm not talking just having a nice life.

I'm referring to the life of privilege. I wonder if those with unlimited resources are even blissfully happy all the time.

I think a pile of money would quell every fear that I have in life. Well, except for the fear of gold diggers, which I don't currently have, because well, I don't have any gold to dig.

I used to watch Duck Tales when I was little, and think that it was kind of funny that Scrooge McDuck went swimming in the money in his vault. But who the hell wouldn't want to do that? If I had that much loot, I'd be doing laps as well.

I'd convert the coins to bills though, so that I didn't snap my spine upon the impact of the initial dive.

I'm often asked the hypothetical question of what I would do with a million dollars.

My answer is always sensible; a house, a car, maybe pay off my student loans.

But would I really do all of those things? Maybe. But I'd blow the rest of the money on stupid things.

For instance, who wouldn't want a solid gold puppy?
Or a diamond encrusted toothbrush.

There's also a lot to be said for just having a weekend bender in Las Vegas. I've never been, and if I blew the kind of money that I think I would, I probably never should. But if I had the cash to drop, why the hell not?

But in reality, I would probably just save the money, and live off of it for awhile, not going crazy, just letting it trickle away a bit at a time.

Then again, I might just hire Nicki Minaj to play my first annual Earth Day festival, and the whole plan could go to hell.

The Alter Ego In ME.

In my younger and impressionable years, I always told people that I really felt like I was two people. There was Bryan, and there was Haas.

True, together that is my name. But I always thought that there was a real distinction between the two.

I always thought of Bryan as the all encompassing me. The normal person that you'd see day to day, moment to moment. He was no one really, just another cog in the machine.

Haas was the popular one. The one that came out in weaker moments, maybe ones of drunken influence, or other mind-altering ways. People liked this persona. He was fun, had confidence, a mean streak. He was someone that I thought I wanted to be.

He was an asshole. And he's gone.

Now in this present time, I still see two versions of myself. Only now I look at it slightly differently.

Anyone that knows anything about me knows of my passion for writing.And it is my dream of dreams to write the great American novel.

A lofty goal to be sure, but one that I still hope to attain. And I have always said that if and when that happens, I would use a pen name. I just always thought that was a cool way to go. Almost like the alter ego that I was referring to.

Who would Samuel Clemens be without Mark Twain? Theodor Geisel without Dr. Seuss? Horror master Stephen King wrote as Richard Bachman.

Hell, even the master of alter egos comic pioneer Stan Lee was born Stanley Martin Lieber.

So I decided roughly two years ago that my name would become Andrew James.

That has remained a secret until this writing. No one has ever heard that name spoken aloud or written before in reference to my goals. The person to read this post first will be only the second person to know.

Inspiration is hard to come by, anyone that has written anything can tell you that. Whether it's a term paper or an epic piece of literature, any writer that tells you that they've never been faced with a lack of material is lying to you.

Just like any woman that tells you that she can climax with a man on top.

Lies.

The point is, that as someone else, you can be free of all of the things that burden you. Bryan Haas may have his hang-ups, trials and tribulations.

But Andrew James is a blank canvas. He can be anything he wants.

It sounds childish, and maybe it is. But I choose to believe it. And if you think about it enough, it just might makes sense to you too.

I Gave Up. Now I'm Giving Up On That.

It's been awhile since I've said anything of note here. There's any number of reasons why that's happened, not the least of which being that I thought that writing about world events was something that I would find fulfilling.

Upon further reflection however, it only made me sound like a whiny nothing, so fuck that idea. I'm coming back with what you all came here to read in the first place; my random musings.

Or more specifically, my random musings about things that are pissing me off. So from here on in, enjoy the ride kids, because it's going to get bumpy in a big way.