#BlackBunsMatter

Advertising / PotD

#BlackBunsMatter

September 29, 2015

Trying to Breathe (2009)

Man who invented the hamburger was smart; man who invented the cheeseburger was a genius.—Matthew McConaughey

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]You know, I generally try to stay away from the really tough, polarizing, hardest-hitting issues of the day because they get so much noise everywhere else anything I might say just gets lost in the mix. I couldn’t let this matter just pass by without comment, though. Fast food burger chain Burger King® has introduced a burger with A.1.® sauce baked into the bun. The result is that the bun takes on a black color, presumably without the bun tasting like burned charcoal. I think this deserves a movement. Therefore, I’m introducing #BlackBunsMatter

Here’s how BK® describes the burger on their website:

Introducing the A.1.^® Halloween WHOPPER^® Sandwich with A.1.^®flavor baked into the black bun. The sandwich is a ¼ lb.* of savory flame-grilled beef topped with melted American cheese, ripe tomatoes, crisp iceberg lettuce, creamy mayonnaise, A.1.^® Thick and Hearty Sauce, crunchy pickles, and sliced white onions on a soft sesame seed bun with A.1.^® flavor baked into the bun.

The chain actually announced the seasonal burger a couple of weeks ago, but CNN and some other alleged news outlets didn’t really pick up on it until yesterday, and then it started hitting my news feeds. Trolling the comments section, it was obvious that no one was gathering the significance of this move. We’ve been eating white buns all these years as though they were the only option. Sure, we might put sesame seeds on some, or twist them to look like pretzels, but they’ve all been variations of the same white buns. Until now. Now, #BlackBunsMatter. Spread the word.[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]Of course, not everyone is going to be very fast to embrace #BlackBunsMatter. Obviously, there’s going to be a political divide. You’re not likely to catch any of the GOP presidential front-runners with a black bun in their hands, that would just be too controversial. Tensions are high in the bun world after all and not everyone agrees with the #BlackBunsMatter movement. That guy with the funny hair would likely call it ridiculous. The former governor of Arkansas would likely claim the bun is sourced from hell. And that Texas senator Mr. Boehner calls a jackass would probably try to shut down the government over it. #BlackBunsMatter is bigger than any of them, though.

I’m sure someone will come along and try to derail the movement with #AllBunsMatter, but they just don’t get the point. For too long, buns of color have been shunned, especially by the restaurant and hospitality industry. Sure, I’ve created a black bun or two in my time, usually from being distracted after putting them on the grill, and no one would ever eat those black buns because they were prejudiced toward soft, white buns. But the time for buns of color has come. Let there be black buns! Let there be brown buns! Let there be red buns! Let there be tanned buns covered in butter! #BlackBunsMatter!

Yes, we’re joking, and we don’t mean to make light of some very serious and important racial issues dividing our country. It’s a hamburger bun, though. If we can’t have a little fun with this thing, we need to re-evaluate our entire lives. Be sure, if BK® didn’t have the trademark locked down, I would SO be selling #BlackBunsMatter t-shirts right now. Or maybe ball caps, in case anyone wants to run for president.[/one_half_last]

Mythology / PotD

Moon? What Moon?

September 28, 2015

If We Had A Beach (2010)

There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls.—George Carlin

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]My newsfeed this morning is filled with pictures of the fucking moon. Yeah, okay, I get it; last night’s moon was super special awesome sauce with its larger appearance (it didn’t actually change size), lunar eclipse with a blood red ending that was both a full and harvest moon. Hell, for all I know, the man in the moon may have shot lasers from its eyes. I stayed up for a while, caught the first two-thirds of the eclipse, and then clouds set in. I’m not going to stay up hoping for a hole in the clouds. I have better things to do. I went to bed.

Now, what would really interest me would be if there were some really unusual occurrences that took place during all this moon fuss. I saw one person relate that their dog had been acting weird all day, but considering the source their dog probably has good reason to act weird on any given day simply because it’s their dog. Same goes for Republicans who have been acting especially stupid the past ten years; can’t blame that one on the moon. The Tipster, who is five, woke up early complaining of bad dreams, and perhaps the metaphysically-inclined person might blame that on the funky moon, but she’s five, she’s going to have the occasional bad dream. Perhaps the horn fell off her unicorn.

What I’m looking for are those really weird, unexplainable stories, like an old man walking into a convenience store at 11:59 and not buying a lottery ticket. Or an old woman crossing a busy street without the aid of a boy scout and still arriving on the other side alive and intact. That kind of weirdness has, so far, been elusive. Perhaps it just takes some time for the stories to filter down through the media. I mean, with some predicting that the moon would bring about the apocalypse, I think we have a right to expect something strange and unholy to have happened. Oh wait, the Pope returned to Italy last night, didn’t he? Maybe that’s the big event. The Pope left and now the anti-christ can appear. Don’t hold your breath on that one.[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]Nonetheless, the moon thing happened and over seven billion of us survived just as insane this morning as we were twenty-four hours ago. Life will go on this morning. Giorgio Armani presents his spring/summer 2016 collection just a few minutes from when I’m typing this, and that will effectively end Milan Fashion Week. Not that there aren’t additional fashion shows after his; there are four listed on the official calendar, and there are probably some other small presentations as well. It’s just that after the Armani shows no one that matters gives a fuck. Paris Fashion Week starts early in the morning. There’s a rush to the airport for that six-hour flight to Paris.

What did the moon look like in Paris? I’ve no idea. The few friends I have in Paris were sleeping, not up taking pictures of the moon. They have other things to worry about, such as the flood of wanna-be street photographers flooding the city, taking pictures of every reasonably attractive person on the street. This is a challenging time to be Parisian. Fashion Week in Paris means one has to actually stop and think about what they’re wearing before they go out to snag a baguette. Be sure, if you’re not totally put together, with hair and makeup done, someone will take your picture and splatter it all over the Internet. Then, when your mother sees it, and she will, she’ll call and ask if you’re feeling well because the picture made you look pale and have you been eating anything other than baguettes?

Fact is, moons happen. Occurences like last night have happened before. The planet survived then, it will survive now, and it will survive when it happens again in 33 years. Maybe you’ll still be around to see that one. Maybe it won’t be so damn cloudy next time. Or maybe we just won’t care. Maybe we’ll be focusing more on helping other people, making lives better, and less worried about the apocalypse. Although, I did see a picture of a baby alpaca yesterday. He had lips. I wonder what he thought of the moon?[/one_half_last]

Advertising / PotD

Totally Unrelated To Anything

September 27, 2015

Oops, it slipped (2010)

Providing meaning to a mass of unrelated needs, ideas, words and pictures – it is the designer’s job to select and fit this material together and make it interesting.—Paul Rand

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]Welcome to our grand experiment, one which is far from being scientific and authoritative in nature, but still slightly more than anecdotal. You see, for websites like this one to be profitable, one of two things has to happen: either it drives enough traffic to make advertising ratios work, or it drives enough traffic to actually impact business. Neither of those has happened yet. There are a number of factors involved, of course, but one of my frustrations is that the content of the articles seems irrelevant to their popularity. What matters is how provocative are the pictures. Last week proved that premise quite handily. The pictures were totally unrelated to anything. We knew we were pandering, and it worked; our weekly hit count was higher than it’s been in months.

So, this week we continue in the same vein, but going a step further. The articles this week will not only be unrelated to the pictures, but they’ll be unrelated to anything. They may be funny, they may be nonsense, they may occasionally be serious, but you won’t catch us talking about technical things like how the mirror reflected light awkwardly back in the model’s face in this picture. Nor will I tell related stories like how it snowed nearly nine inches while we were shooting this set, or how the place where we shot no longer looks anything like this now, which makes me sad. Instead, I’ll talk about something totally different, like trees.

Except that, for the moment, I’m not really interested in trees. I’ve not done any research on trees. I have noticed that our lack of rain is ruining the fall foliage. Rather than turning colors, leaves are simply dying, turning brown, and falling. How depressing that is. No pretty colors. Rather sucks when you think about it. We had all that rain back in the spring and now we get nothing. I suppose this is making it easier to get in the fall harvest; fields aren’t muddy so farm implements can roll across the crops with optimum efficiency. I have cousins whose business involves leasing combines and such for the harvest. I would imagine their business is doing rather well at the moment.[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]For the two or three people who actually attempt to read the articles, this week could be either entertaining or frustrating, depending on what happens. What I’m expecting is that I’ll get up each morning and just go with a stream of consciousness based on how I’m feeling at the moment. Milan Fashion Week wraps up on Tuesday, Paris Fashion Week starts Wednesday. Both require me getting up earlier than usual some days, but at least Paris is only a five-hour time difference versus Milan’s six. That extra hour can be brutal when there’s a critical show at 3:30 AM our time. I’m not sure I’m capable of anything resembling consciousness at that point.

Early morning writing requires help. I have a browser plugin that not only checks my spelling, which can be atrocious early in the morning, but also checks my grammar. Sometimes its grammar checks are a little too strict for this style of writing. I am, after all, being rather conversant. This isn’t the New York Times by any stretch of the imagination. Yet, it pains me to see any writing where the grammar is totally ignored, and when the plugin corrects things it usually does so with good reason. I miss things when I’m tired. I also have difficulty caring when I’m tired. I’ve been tired a lot, lately. The plugin has been working overtime.

Totally unrelated, I’m wondering what would be too explicit; at what point would a photo be so audacious as to actually turn traffic away? Is that even possible? At the same time, I more frequently wonder what it would take for people to actually start sharing these posts; that’s what it’s going to take to really bump the hit counts. I can only reach a limited number of people at any given time. For us to get the big numbers, where the website begins to pay off, people have to share what they see here and that’s not happening. But then, how many people are doing anything more than looking at the pictures, anyway?

Yeah, that’s what I thought. Totally unrelated to anything.[/one_half_last]

pop culture / PotD

Death Defying LIfe

September 26, 2015

Home Stretch (2009)

When your time comes to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with fear of death, so that when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way. Sing your death song, and die like a hero going home.—Tecumseh

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]Welcome to Saturday, that point in the week where I look back and wonder if you’ve noticed what we’ve done or if you’ve only looked at the pictures. This is the time when I question my decision to disable comments, because I wouldn’t mind legitimate feedback. The problem is that activating comments opens the whole thing up to trolls who, speaking of death, definitely deserve to die horrendously. I don’t tolerate rudeness and don’t have time to respond to such nonsense, so there are no comments. Still, it would be nice to know who is reading, I’m guessing maybe two or three people a day.

If you’ve been reading, though, have you noticed what we’ve done this week? Mass pandering. We’ve used provocative images to get faces to the page, then discussed totally unrelated subjects; in this case, the leading causes of death as published in the medical journal The Lancet last week. We’ve hit them all with a sense of fury and if you’ve missed one today would probably be a good time to go back and catch up. Some are rather humorous while others are just angry that we can be so very stupid. And when it comes to death, we truly are rather stupid about the whole thing.

Somewhere along the line, society has developed this ridiculous notion that immortality is something to be achieved; that if we didn’t have to worry about death then we could do more with our lives. As a result, we’ve come to loathe death, which we really don’t understand in the first place, and placed untold resources into attempting to avoid it rather than focusing on improving what we already have. Even if our lives did span hundreds of years, they would still be meaningless if we continued living them in the same way we do now. Prolonging the status quo is not a desirable condition.[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]Stop and think for a moment what would happen if we were all suddenly immortal, if death simply ceased to be a factor. While it sounds like a good idea on the surface, it doesn’t take long for things to go sour. Consider these elements:

If no one is dying, then no one can be allowed to have babies. The planet’s population already exceeds sustainability.
Our bodies would naturally continue to deteriorate and within a few very short years we would have a planet of geriatrics.
Avoiding death doesn’t mean we avoid disease. Imagine having to live with the ravages of advanced-staged cancer forever.
Prisons would become even more overcrowded than they currently are. With immortality comes a crime wave like the planet has never seen. Barbarism would quickly return.
There would be no escaping the people you don’t like. If you’re not dying, they’re not dying either, and with all eternity in front of you this planet is going to get very small, very quickly.

Death has a very necessary purpose. We need that finality, that ending point, to help keep us on track, to allow us to regenerate society through new life, and to help us realize that if we’re going to do something that matters, we need to start doing it right now, not sometime in the unknown future. If you want to live a death-defying life then you need to be doing something other than overeating, smoking, and creating stress. Do things that actually make a positive difference, not only in your lives, but those of others.

Of course, that can only happen if you actually read the articles and not just look at the pictures. [/one_half_last]

pop culture / PotD

Pollution

September 25, 2015

An Early Morning

Must we wait for selection to solve the problems of overpopulation, exhaustion of resources, pollution of the environment and a nuclear holocaust, or can we take explicit steps to make our future more secure? In the latter case, must we not transcend selection?
—B. F. Skinner

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]Pollution is an interesting topic, don’t you think? With all the environmental talk these days having turned to the matter of global warming, we have to wonder whether anyone is paying attention to actual pollution anymore. What tops that, though, at least in my heavily weighted opinion, is that we tend to think of pollution as an outdoor thing when indoor pollution is every bit as deadly. No, I’m not kidding. Your gas is shortening people’s lives, man. You need to lay off the burritos.

According to figures released by The Lancet, a respected medical journal, indoor pollution is just as much a contributor to death, 2.9 million people, as is outdoor pollution. Put the two together, and pollution suddenly jumps up to the second leading cause of death in the world, even more than smoking. No matter where we turn, there is so very little fresh air left on the planet it’s a wonder we are still breathing at all. The oxygen we need to survive is running preciously thin and every time you open your mouth you are putting someone else in danger. There, how does that make you feel? Not good, huh?

And just why do we have so much indoor pollution? Someone forgot to crack a window. Seriously. Inadequate ventilation is responsible for 53% of indoor pollution. I know researchers will try to say that it is poor ventilation in factories that are the most threatening to the greatest number of people, especially in developing nations where workplace regulations about air quality are non-existent. But something tells me those researchers would have a different opinion if they’ve ever been hotboxed in a car with three teenage boys who just stopped at Taco Bell®™. Noxious fumes capable of peeling paint come out of the human posterior. Don’t try telling me that stuff isn’t shortening all our lives.[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]In an ultimate display of human stupidity, we have chosen for years to completely ignore the matter of pollution. We know it’s there. We know we’re causing it. But the people who control the money are afraid if we do things to clean up this incredible mess we’ve created that it might eat into their over-inflated bottom line. The late (thankfully) President Ronald Reagan tried blaming nature itself for causing the majority of air contaminants. While technically that charge is true, there is one big difference between natural contaminants and manufactured contaminants: nature cleans up its own damn mess, humans don’t.

Yeah, that’s right; the rebellious act of not wanting to clean our rooms as children has spread to the whole damn planet. Wherever we go, we make a mess and we don’t want to clean it up. In a way, the fact that our pollution is killing us is probably just reward for being the colossal brats that we are. One might even go so far as to say that choking on our over-industrialization is nature’s way of attempting to eliminate the problem. We ruin the air we breathe, we die, the air becomes clean again. Isn’t that the way nature works?

Of course, it’s the poor who are most likely to die from the effects of pollution, and the poor don’t have a voice in the political decisions that have turned our planet, indoors and out, into a giant cesspool of stinking corporate flatulence. Those who have the money for expensive air purification systems don’t worry about the health of those who don’t. The same jackasses who won’t roll down a window in the car are laughing about hotboxing the entire planet.

So here’s a message from the planet to humanity: Hey people, you stink. Clean up your shit or leave. And cut back on the burritos. Enjoy the picture. Thanks, Earth. [/one_half_last]

pop culture / PotD

A Poverty Of Life

September 24, 2015

Leave A Simple Photo Alone (2015)

Where justice is denied, where poverty is enforced, where ignorance prevails, and where any one class is made to feel that society is an organized conspiracy to oppress, rob and degrade them, neither persons nor property will be safe.—Frederick Douglass

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]What did you have for breakfast this morning, anything at all? As adults, the meal is perhaps the easiest to skip. A cup of coffee and we’re out the door. We don’t have time, we’re not in the mood to prepare anything, and many people just don’t have breakfast food in the house. Maybe we could make toast, but that’s about it. I’ve heard mothers complain that they just can’t get their children to eat breakfast. My mother would be appalled. Breakfast wasn’t an option, it was a mandate.

Life really wasn’t all that different when I was growing up, but there was one thing about which my mother was adamant: you’re eating breakfast. It didn’t matter how early it meant we had to get up, we weren’t leaving the house without having food. Where we lived in rural Oklahoma, there was no catching something on the way, or stopping at the convenience store down the street because there was nothing there! I think school breakfast might have been an option, but I never knew anyone who actually ate it. There were some Saturday mornings in high school where the band bus left for a trip at some ungodly hour that required us to leave home at something like 5:00 AM. Guess what, we sat down and had breakfast first. Every morning. Not just something slapped together, either. Eggs. Bacon or sausage. Hot cereal during the winter. Toast. Fruit in season, when we could afford it. Breakfast was a big deal.

Today, there are more options. It actually makes sense for Kat’s kids to eat their breakfast at school; it’s built into their schedule along with lunch. We know they’re getting nutritionally appropriate meals and we don’t have the added fuss at home of trying to convince them to finish their food before the bus comes at 6:30. People who have to commute to work also have more options now than were available forty years ago. There’s a fast food option on every other corner. Seated service restaurants are in greater abundance. Grocery stores are open earlier. We’ve got it made, right?[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]No, we don’t have it made. Having it “made” means that everything is balanced and healthy and that we’re making the right choices. None of those things are accurate. Our lives and our diets are anything but balanced or healthy and we’re notorious for making bad choices. We create poverty within our own lives by eliminating the things we need most while being excessive in the things we need the least. Children get the worst of it, too. We place them in food poverty by failing to make sure they’re actually eating fruit. Globally, a lack of food in the diet kills 3.4 million people a year, and the great majority of those are children. They don’t only have impoverished diets, they have impoverished lives.

More than a financial state, poverty is a life condition. Even people whose incomes are well above what is considered the poverty line can still have impoverished lives because of the choices they make in how they spend what they have. One of the biggest areas of poverty, strangely enough, comes in having too few fruits and we replace that with an excess of sodium, which in turn kills yet another 3.5 million people. And no, grabbing a bottle of juice isn’t the same, especially for children. Juice doesn’t contain the fiber and other nutrients available in whole fruit. What’s sad is grocery stores and markets dump tons of wasted fruit every day. Global economies keep prices out of reach for people who need fruit the most, and those who can afford fruit look at it more as a dessert item, not a dietary necessity.

We like to think we’re rich, and comparatively we are, but look in your shopping cart the next time you buy food. If you have three different kinds of chips, packaged foods, and/or soda, and less than three different kinds of fresh fruit, you are creating a poverty of life for you and your family. We should all be appalled. [/one_half_last]

pop culture / PotD

Pure Sweetness

September 23, 2015

Maternity Yoga (2014)

As a culture I see us as presently deprived of subtleties. The music is loud, the anger is elevated, sex seems lacking in sweetness and privacy.—Shelley Berman

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]I’m old enough to remember life before artificial sweeteners, back when sugar was what sweetened everything, not this fucking corn syrup used now. There was sugar in everything and people wanted you to know it. There were Sugar Pops and Sugar Smacks and Sugar Frosted Flakes and Sugared Sugar. Sweetness was something people took seriously. They expected it. They respected it. Diabetes? That was something someone else had, that poor kid in the classroom who had to have plain popcorn while the rest of us had cupcakes. They tended to be weak, puny kids, not very good at football, which was also sweetened.

Then some idiot decided that the world needed a sugar substitute. Why? Was there too much sweetness in the world? Were people just enjoying their lives too much and some fucking jackass decided they needed to ruin it? There was no reason to give us artificial sweeteners, but suddenly we had them. They told us it was healthier. So, my parents ran out and bought some. They tried it first in the sweet tea. It was horrible. Then, my mother tried it in cookies. We dumped those in the trash. Next, we tried it on Corn Flakes. Definitely not a good start to the morning. Artificial sweeteners aren’t sweet. They suck. Every last one of them. How can such a sucky flavor be good for anyone, except that it makes you not want to put that garbage in your mouth so maybe you eat less?

Sweetness is a constitutional right; I’m sure of it. Maybe it doesn’t say so in so many words, but the implication has to be there somewhere. We have an inalienable right to the unspoken affection that comes with being sugared to death. I remember once, in the 70s, when they were doing drive-by diabetes screenings at the health department, next door to where my mom worked. She wanted Poppa to bring my brother and I by to be tested, just to make sure we were healthy. So, you know what he did? He dropped mom off at work and then took my brother and I for donuts! We had two iced donuts each. So when we come back around and have our fingers stuck for the test, guess what? Our blood sugar levels were damn near off the chart! They said we were borderline diabetic. I wonder why![/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]Here’s the thing: people think that sugar is the primary cause of diabetes, which is a horrible disease that kills a lot of people. In fact, high blood sugar is the fourth leading cause of death in the world; it kills around four million people a year. There are 29 million Americans with diabetes and that number keeps rising. You know why? It’s not because we’re eating too much sugar, that’s for damn sure. It’s because we’re eating too many McFattyFatFat cheeseburgers with fries soaked in corn syrup and we think we’re safe because we wash it down with a diet soda. All this pretend sweetness is killing us!

What makes all this worse, is that 1 in 4 people who are diabetic don’t realize that they have diabetes. They have no clue. Their diet consists of one fast food drive-thru after another. Their lives are sedentary, sitting in an office all day and their asses parked on a couch all night. The only time they see a hint of fruit is when it’s baked in a pie. They’re dying and they don’t know it. Pass ’em a Diet Coke®™. I’m sure that will help.

Even people who know they have Type II Diabetes don’t seem to care. I knew a lady once who was diabetic and kept wondering why she felt so bad. She smoked non-stop. She ate almost nothing but delivery pizza and cookies. She got absolutely no exercise. She didn’t take her insulin. No, I have no idea why she couldn’t even fucking walk and her feet were turning black.

I fucking like sugar. I like sugar so much my hood name should be Sweetness Letbetter. I’m not stupid, though. I know if I’m going to sit here with handfuls of chocolate during these damn fashion shows, I’m going to have to get up, move around, and eat some fucking vegetables to counter that crack. I like sugar, but I know there’s a limit and I watch it. Apparently, not all of you fuckers are as smart because you’re dying off at a pretty alarming rate and you’re costing the world a lot of money in health care. Put down the damn diet soda, why don’t you. Artificial sweeteners not helping, they just taste bad. Talk to your doctor and get that shit under control.

The ultimate sweetness is being alive. Try staying that way.[/one_half_last]

pop culture / PotD

The Real Skinny

September 22, 2015

Doesn’t Matter (2014)

We were at a beach one summer, and I had a bathing suit on. My wife looked at me and said: ‘Boy, you are skinny, aren’t you?’ I said: ‘Honey, I’d like to remind you that it was minor defects like this that kept me from getting a better wife.’—Lou Holtz

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]For the first forty years of my life, I was thin, at times disturbingly so. It wasn’t that I wanted to be thin, nor that I was trying to be thin. Quite the opposite, actually. I would have loved to have had enough mass to actually develop muscles and such, but that never happened. I delighted in over-eating to excess at buffets but never could gain weight. At 30 I was still able to wear the same pair of Levi’s 501 jeans that I bought when I was 18. Now, for women, that kind of tale isn’t unusual, but for men it’s practically unheard of. I had no muscle mass. If I ate too much and was bloated, I looked like Bloom County’s Bill the Cat (well, maybe not as orange). There wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it, no matter how hard I tried, and believe me, I tried.

Then, I hit 40. Boom. Like flipping a switch, I started gaining weight and suddenly staying off the 200-pound mark became an issue. Actually, with my body frame and size, I didn’t need to be above 170, and even that was frighteningly larger than I’d ever been. I started having to buy larger clothes, replace suits, and spend money that I really hadn’t planned on spending. What, when, and how I ate suddenly became an issue, as did the amount of exercise and stress. My health changed. I was sick more often. I had to watch my blood sugar. High blood pressure, which runs in our family anyway, was suddenly a much more important issue. That skinny teenager is gone and is never going to come back. Instead, like almost every other American and a large number of people around the world, I have to fight with obesity.

Fuck. I like fried chicken, chicken fried steak smothered in pepper gravy, mashed potatoes, green beans cooked with bacon grease, cornbread dripping with butter and corn on the cob far too much to have a weight issue. And don’t even get me started on the importance of chocolate, especially this time of year when the fashion shows are one right after the other and I’m not getting nearly enough sleep. I’ve been able to eat as much as I want whenever I want my entire life. What the hell does my body think it’s doing gaining all this weight all of a sudden? I don’t have time for an interpersonal rebellion like this. Pass the pie. Not, not a piece of pie, give me the whole damn pie. And more coffee, damnit. I have work to do. This is just a temporary, thing.[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]No, it’s not. I’m well past 40 now and the problem isn’t going away. What I’ve come to realize, though, is that much of society’s view of what’s “skinny,” and our subsequent jealous loathing of that condition, is based almost entirely upon the skewed perspective born of one basic fact: we’re all too fucking fat. What’s more, is that we know we’re fat, we know it’s killing us, and we just don’t fucking care. We’ve thrown caution to the wind and ordered another triple burger with quadruple cheese, bacon, and onion rings. And should anyone actually challenge our obesity, we fight back with something stupid like, “You’re fat shaming me. I can’t help it, I was born large.”

Bullshit. Even if you were a ten-pound baby you were not born obese. Obesity, for the vast majority of Americans, is something we have chosen for ourselves and then proceeded to surround ourselves with a variety of excuses for our slovenliness. Let’s be clear: there’s a difference between being overweight and being obese. There can be many contributors to being overweight, including, but not limited to, water retention, bone mass, and muscle buildup. Being obese comes down to just one thing, though: FAT. The National Institues of Health calculate obesity according to Body Mass Index. If yours is over 30, you’re overweight. If it’s over 40, you’re obese. Want to see what yours is? Click here and don’t fucking lie. This morning, mine is 24.3, which is on the upper end of normal for my height. I need to be careful and exercise more.

Sure, there are people who are too skinny and that’s a problem, but shaming thin people just because they’re not so incredibly fucking fat like you just emphasises that your brain is as fat as your body. Well over two of three Americans are overweight or obese and Indiana is currently ranked number eight as one of the ten most obese states in the country. Try and justify it any way you want, we’re not healthy. Obesity is the third most common cause of death on this planet and it is totally preventable. Even our kids, our babies, are too fucking fat and it’s our fault. Put down the fucking fork. Park a few extra spaces from the door. Walk. Exercise. And stop making fucking excuses. You’re fat. You can either change or die. Your call.[/one_half_last]

pop culture / PotD

Smoking. Hot.

September 21, 2015

Dances With Pearls (2014)

As an example to others, and not that I care for moderation myself, it has always been my rule never to smoke when asleep, and never to refrain from smoking when awake.—Mark Twain

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]I hate the sight of no smoking signs. Not that I’m this huge smoker by any stretch of the imagination. Cigarettes are, in my opinion, a waste of money; three or four puffs and they’re gone. Why bother? I’ll occasionally smoke a pipe if I’m stressed and trying to chill, or perhaps have a cigar while out in the middle of nowhere, sitting around a campfire. I don’t have this huge oral fixation that requires I put something up to my mouth all the time. Still, the very sight of a no smoking sign angers me because it restricts my right to choose. Am I not intelligent enough to make the right choice? Are you calling me stupid with your fucking sign? Can you not see how horribly insulting that damn sign is?

I understand: clean air. The statistics regarding second-hand smoke are damning. I’ll admit, I don’t mind walking into an office, especially the doctor’s office, and the whole place not smelling like smoke. I don’t mind walking into a restaurant and not having to choose between smoking or non-smoking (we typically chose smoking simply because it was less crowded). I don’t mind coming home and my clothes not smelling like a cheap brand of cigarettes. I get it. I understand what anti-smoking advocates are trying to do. I still don’t like the damn signs.

Statistics are clear: cigarette smoking remains the largest single preventable cause of death in the United States. In addition to killing somewhere in the neighborhood of 480,000 people in the US each year, the direct cost of that addiction in terms of healthcare and lost productivity is around $300 billion annually. Smoking doesn’t play fair, either. One is more likely to smoke if they are male, has their GED, is a former service member, and is racially mixed, according to statistical evidence. Children born to mothers who smoke during pregnancy are likely to have a significantly lower birth rate. Smoking is the second leading cause of death in the entire world. The numbers against smoking are absolutely overwhelming.

There’s just one problem: Uncle Fred.[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]If you’ve known me more than five minutes I’ve probably told you about my Uncle Fred. I know I’ve written about him before. Uncle Fred was one of those migrants in John Updike’s The Grapes of Wrath that left dust bowl Oklahoma along with his wife, Aunt Irene, who was my grandmother’s sister. They settled in Turlock, California, up in the Northern end of that state, worked hard from sunup to sundown, raised three boys, were heavily engaged in civic activities, traveled when they could, argued with each other like cats and dogs and lived what was, for their time, a pretty normal life.

Uncle Fred was a two-pack-a-day smoker. He was respectful, he’d go outside, step away from the doorway, smoke two or three, then come back inside. If it were raining and the porch was too short, he’d either find a tree or stand under the eve of the house. All that smoking eventually killed him … at age 96. Aunt Irene, who didn’t smoke and wouldn’t allow Fred to do it in their house, died four years later at age 92. If we look solely at Fred and Irene’s statistics, smoking’s apparently good for you. That’s why I have a problem with those damn signs. Statistics are numbers and numbers aren’t people. We don’t know how many Uncle Freds there are because, since they aren’t dying off too quickly, we’re not studying them.

There are roughly 320 million people in the United States. If we lose 480,000 to smoking each year, that’s a whopping 0.15% of the total. Pay attention. That’s not fifteen percent. That’s less than two-tenths of ONE percent. We’re making all this fuss over a group of people so statistically small that, in almost any other study, they would be insignificant. With over seven billion people on the planet, we’re over-populated beyond the point of sustainability. We need more than 0.15% to die off if we’re going to continue living here. Sustainability is more critical than smoking at this point. Think of smokers as volunteers for population control.

Smoke ’em if you’ve got ’em and lose the damn signs.[/one_half_last]

pop culture / PotD

Why Worry?

September 20, 2015

Just Nude (2014)

If you ask what is the single most important key to longevity, I would have to say it is avoiding worry, stress and tension. And if you didn’t ask me, I’d still have to say it.—George Burns

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]I am half tempted to just fill the rest of the page with videos. That would make the morning a lot easier on me. I wouldn’t have to worry about word count or whether anyone reads past the first paragraph. The videos would be cool, too. Madcon’s Don’t Worry was a decent enough hit earlier this year. Since 1973, Stevie Wonder’s been telling us, Don’t You Worry ‘Bout A Thing. Bob Marley assured us, Every Little Thing‘s gonna be alright. Bobby McFarrin has been trying for years to convince us to Don’t Worry, Be Happy. All of those songs have some very good advice, and if we all took that advice we might just live to the ripe old age of 101 as did George Burns, who was possibly one of the funniest people to ever live.

We’re not terribly good at that whole not worrying thing, though, and that in of itself is cause for worry. Why? Because it’s killing us, jackass. Mr. Burns laid it out right there for you: worry, stress, hypertension. All those things result in high blood pressure and high blood pressure is the single largest contributor to death in the entire fucking world. We worry too damn much, and it’s not getting any better. According to an article this past week in The Lancet, and reported by National Public Radio (NPR), the rate of high blood pressure as the cause of death has risen from 6.4 million in 1990, to 10.4 million in 2013.

Don’t worry, we have plenty of songs that can make us happy, right? And if that doesn’t work, there’s always cat memes and cute puppy videos on the Internet to help us forget that our lifestyle choices totally suck. If that doesn’t work, we have mindless reality shows filled with mindless people who become famous for making absolutely no worthwhile contribution to the human race whatsoever. And if that doesn’t work, then hey, there are always babies: pictures of babies making funny faces, videos of babies doing funny things, and plenty of websites demonstrating the various positions from which one can make babies. Why worry? Make babies![/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]Wait, no, that doesn’t work either, because then we have to worry about how we’re going to feed, clothe, and educate that baby so that they don’t grow up to be as worthless as that idiot, whomever that idiot may be. Sure, we want our kids to grow up better than us, but how is that going to happen when global wages have gone down over the past 30 years so that our buying power is now less than the same money was when our parents were diapering our shitty asses? Do we really want kids starting their adult lives with more debt than the value of the house in which they grew up? How the fuck is that supposed to be an improvement?

Personally, I think we need to eliminate politicians. Approximately 70 million adults, 1 in 3 people over the age of 21, have high blood pressure and a great deal of that comes from the fact we have this group of fucking imbeciles in Washington, D. C. who keep fucking with our lives. And it’s not so much that we mind being taxed, we are willing to pay our fair share, but those morons keep giving our money to Wall Street fat cats while our roads crumble beneath us. They spend BILLIONS OF DOLLARS on senseless, manufactured wars while woefully underfunding education so that maybe, just maybe, we can figure out how to stop having stupid fucking wars. Kill the politicians, and those things that make us worry all go away, right?

I wish. The bottom line is we have so many things to worry about because we keep making stupid fucking choices. We choose food that kills us. We elect politicians that screw us. We tolerate a banking system that impoverishes us. We work at jobs that bore us for a paycheck too small to house us. We spending too much time on the fucking Internet searching for ways to improve our life instead of actually going out and improving our life. But hey, whatever you do, DON’T WORRY! That worry stuff’ll kill ya’.

Okay, maybe one video below the break. Even I need it after that rant.[/one_half_last]

PotD / Social Commentary

Purpose

September 19, 2015

On A Pedestal (2014)

I do not have much patience with a thing of beauty that must be explained to be understood. If it does need additional interpretation by someone other than the creator, then I question whether it has fulfilled its purpose.—Charlie Chaplin

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]The universe may be making a comment on one’s day when one gets up in the morning and the first thing in the newsfeed is an article on death; specifically, how the primary causes of death have changed since 1990, a mere 25 years ago. High blood pressure still tops the list, which reminds me I need to take my pill. But then, articles like this don’t help any, either. They just make my blood pressure a little higher. You know, worry and all.

What seems obvious, looking at the primary causes of death, is that we are all committing suicide in one way or the other. Take a look at these figures:

Source: The Lancet

How many of those are the direct result of our mode of living; lifestyle choices we make, excesses in which we indulge, knowing full well the consequences but still choosing to go right ahead and tempt fate. What’s the purpose? Do we only live so that we can orchestrate our own deaths in less-than-spectacular fashion? If we are creating lives so unbearable that we must worry, smoke, drink, and overeat in order to cope, what’s the fucking point?[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]Christian author and megachurch pastor Rick Warren has written and talks extensively about “the Purpose Driven Life,” and popular culture has latched onto his concepts of a religious-based purpose to living. Many other self-help gurus have done the same thing, trying to use religion, or some universal sense of spirituality as a basis for there being some reason to exist. The recently deceased Dr. Wayne Dyer once said:

Everything in the universe has a purpose. Indeed, the invisible intelligence that flows through everything in a purposeful fashion is also flowing through you.

Religion serves as the defining purpose of life for many millions of people around the world. The concept that some force greater than the individual has predetermined a course or fate for their lives is attractive because it relieves them of the responsibility of having to determine that course or establishing some purpose for themselves. If one dies inappropriately young, or endures a lifetime of poverty, then religion offers the excuse that there was some greater purpose at work.

But what if there is no universal purpose? Humans are but a blip on the timeline of history. The cosmos got along just fine developing itself and evolving and doing things before we came along. What if our presence here is of no consequential purpose at all, but rather a momentary sideline amusement while everything else takes a breather? We are, after all, apparently hell-bent upon our own destruction. How can that be of any benefit to the greater good of creation? What benefit does the universe derive from our presence?

At the moment, I’m not seeing any great over-arching purpose to humanity existing beyond this current stage of universal evolution. I suppose that, in some form or fashion, we might provide a link to whatever it is that comes next, but by the time that stage of existence comes into being we, as a species, will have long been forgotten. Perhaps, we might want to consider changing our approach.[/one_half_last]

PotD / Social Commentary

Education

September 18, 2015

Think A Minute (2013)

The paradox of education is precisely this – that as one begins to become conscious one begins to examine the society in which he is being educated.—James A. Baldwin

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]My mother was a teacher in more ways than one. Yes, there are a few people out there who endured, and survived, the trials and tribulations of being in her classroom. She didn’t stop teaching when she walked out of the classroom, though. Education, she believed, was something that began the moment one woke up of the morning and didn’t end until one was unconscious at night. She saw the potential for making every moment a teaching moment, and she wasn’t going to let one’s education be incomplete.

Mom always said she was 5′ 2″ tall. I’m sure she was at one young point in her life. Most of my life she was about an inch shorter than that, and she continued shrinking. That never stopped her, though. She couldn’t be bullied, by administration, student, or parent. To cross her as an adult meant being on the receiving end of a tongue-lashing that damn-near drew blood. To cross her as a child meant bending over, grabbing your ankles, and being thankful her arthritis prevented her from swinging that paddle as strongly as she might. In her mind, the first thing one needed in an education was discipline and respect. One didn’t begin learning until those two things were present.

At the same time, though, Mother could be incredibly compassionate. Being the preacher’s wife in a small town meant she usually knew when a student’s family was struggling. School policy prevented her from helping a child directly, but she would find a way to make sure a child had food at home, or clean clothes, or in at least one case light by which to read. Hugs were something she handed out readily, even long after one left her classroom. After school tutoring wasn’t’ part of a program; it was just something she did as student’s had need.[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]Mom would not have done well in today’s schools. She understood that an education isn’t just information one learns to regurgitate on command, but how we learn to take that information and improve our lives and the lives of others. She hated standardized tests because she knew that people can’t, and shouldn’t, be standardized and neither can the education system that teaches us. She taught more by living than by lecturing. She set an example for her students that was worth following.

I look now at how schools have changed and want to cry. We have so woefully underfunded our schools that teachers show up to find absolutely no resources in their classrooms, not even textbooks or dry erase markers. We totally misunderstand the point of education when we think test scores are a sufficient or accurate measure of learning and/or teacher adequacy. Library shelves sit empty because there’s no money for books. We wonder why there’s a teacher shortage in almost every state, not realizing that by the time teachers pay for all their supplies, books for their classrooms, and materials for students, they’re not longer making a living wage!

I’m glad that the little ones can now come home and watch re-runs of Mr. Rodger’s Neighborhood on Netflix. They are thoroughly enthralled as they pick up the values education that are no longer part of the school curriculum. Education for them is a very different experience than it was for my sons, and almost unrecognizable compared to my experience. That we have allowed the situation to deteriorate is inexcusable and everyone is at fault. We have no education system when we refuse to learn. Even Mother couldn’t solve that problem. [/one_half_last]

PotD / Social Commentary

Ambition

September 17, 2015

INTENSITY (2012)

Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, ambition inspired, and success achieved.—Helen Keller

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]There is something seriously wrong with the world when schools inspire and encourage fear and suspicion rather than learning and ambition. Fear and suspicion lead to remission, fighting, and ultimately war. Learning and ambition lead to cooperation, understand, and progress. That there is anyone in the world who promotes the negative over the positive is a point of concern, but when it is the institutions we entrust to teach and prepare the next generation, we should be furious.

On Monday of this week, news broke of a 14-year-old student at MacArthur High School in Irving, Texas who was arrested for making a clock for his engineering class. Ahmed Mohamed is a young man of Sudanese descent. In fact, his father, Mohamed Elhassan Mohamed, ran for President of Sudan earlier this year. The whole purpose of putting Ahmed in the Texas school was to encourage his ambition in science and technology. Unfortunately, when Ahmed’s English teacher saw the briefcase containing the clock, he didn’t bother to ask the student what it was. Instead, the teacher made the false assumption that it must be a bomb and reported Ahmed to the principal, who in turn called the police.

I find it interesting that this happened at a school named after the late five-star general, Douglas MacArthur. The tough-as-nails general with a reputation for pushing his troops to their very limit, for accepting nothing short of victory, would almost certainly be embarrassed by the school. General MacArthur once said,

It is part of the general pattern of misguided policy that our country is now geared to an arms economy which was bred in an artificially induced psychosis of war hysteria and nurtured upon an incessant propaganda of fear.

The general understood that fear is always the enemy, and that ambition and learning are the solution.

School principal Daniel Cummings (972.600.7370, dacummings@irvingisd.net) made a grave error in choosing to punish Ahmed for his ambition, and deserves to be held accountable for such an egregious mistake. Fortunately, more intelligent forces across the country have attempted to make up for the school’s inadequacy. Tech giant Google invited Ahmed to it’s tech fair this weekend. Facebook founder, and soon-to-be-dad, Mark Zuckerberg invited Ahmed to visit him at Facebook’s headquarters. Officials at NASA have reportedly even offered Ahmed a job (Ahmed was wearing a NASA t-shirt when he was arrested). The growth of the hashtag #IStandWithAhmed has been dramatic.[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]The bigger response came from much higher up. Secretary of Education Arne Duncan tweeted: “We need to be encouraging young engineers, not putting them in handcuffs. #IStandWithAhmed”

Then, almost immediately after Duncan’s tweet, the President weighed in with: “Cool clock, Ahmed. Want to bring it to the White House? We should inspire more kids like you to like science. It’s what makes America great.”

White House Press Secretary Josh Earnest explained further:

“The president, like many of us, was struck by the news reports of this particular incident. The fact is, America’s best teachers and our schools and our best schools, at least, nurture the intellectual curiously of all of our students. And this instance, it’s clear that at least some of Ahmed’s teachers failed him.

Ambition is one of the traits of humanity that differentiates us from animals. More than relying on instinct, we have the ability to push ourselves to do things we don’t necessarily have to do. Ambition, fueled by curiosity and the desire to move forward, is what leads to innovation, progress, and invention. Without ambition, we are no better than sloths sleeping on a tree limb.

The model shown in today’s picture was also a person of considerable ambition. Short of stature, she pushed herself, and her body, to achieve a level of strength and muscle tone that enabled her to perform feats of physical strength not generally attributed to people of her gender or profession. Her ambition led her to excel.

Earlier in his administration, President Obama was quoted as saying:

We need to steer clear of this poverty of ambition, where people want to drive fancy cars and wear nice clothes and live in nice apartments but don’t want to work hard to accomplish these things. Everyone should try to realize their full potential.

Regardless of what we want to do with our lives, ambition is required to succeed. When ambition is suppressed, discouraged, and even punitively punished, we destroy that which drives us to become better, that which improves our society, that which moves us forward. We need ambition, not only for ourselves but for others. We should never accept anything less.[/one_half_last]

PotD / Social Commentary

Point of Origin

September 16, 2015

Royalty (2011).Model: Danelle French. Face paint: Jennifer Baxter

That means that every human being – without distinction of sex, age, race, skin color, language, religion, political view, or national or social origin – possesses an inalienable and untouchable dignity.—Hans Kung

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]For as long as I can remember, I have had to answer the question, “where are you from?” No matter where I’ve lived, with no regard to how long I might have lived there, the accent with which I speak has never quite matched where I live. I’ve never minded answering the question because it seems reasonable to me that point of origin is a central part of our identity. What amuses me, though, is that as I get older and tell people I’m from Oklahoma (forget those first 12 years in Kansas), they sometimes give me a quizzical look and respond, “No you’re not. You don’t sound or act like anyone from Oklahoma.” For that, I am grateful.

Point of origin has always, throughout history, been an important part of our identity. To which tribe one belonged could mean the difference between free or slave, or even life and death. Our species began as nomadic foragers, roaming to where ever food and shelter were most readily available, but the place from where we started, our point of origin, has always been, and strongly remains, a critical factor upon which judgments, whether just or not, have been made. Inherent social construct inserts a geographic tag into our identity from which there is no escape.

One of the reasons our point of origin so often comes into question is because we, as a species, don’t stay put. Even after all the building of cities and farms, creating and fighting over national borders, and even cruel attempts at keeping people in or out of certain places, we are now more migrant than we have ever been. Our point of origin is but a GPS marker from which all our travels begin. Move so much now that scientists who study such things are referring to the 21st century as the age of the migrant. Not only are we already moving around a lot, it’s going to get worse.

We are all migrants, not because we are born as such, but we cannot help becoming such, leaving our point of origin, sometimes by choice, but with increasing frequency because we have no choice. By engaging in this conversation, it is important to understand the vocabulary. An emigrant is someone known by where they have left. An immigrant is known by where they are going. Coming or going, though, there are over one billion people on the move at any given time, and that number is growing rapidly.[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]Thomas Nail, a philosopher at the University of Colorado, recently published a book, The Figure of the Migrant (Stanford University Press, 2015), in which he explains:

People today relocate to greater distances more frequently than ever before in human history. While many people may not move across a regional or international border, they tend to change jobs more often, commute longer and farther to work, change their residence repeatedly, and tour internationally more often. Some of these phenomena are directly related to recent events, such as the impoverishment of middle classes in certain rich countries after the ﬁnancial crisis of 2008, subsequent austerity cuts to social welfare programs, and rising unemployment. The subprime mortgage crisis led to the expulsion of millions of people from their homes worldwide (9 million in the United States alone). Foreign investors and governments have acquired 540 million acres since 2006, resulting in the eviction of millions of small farmers in poor countries, and mining practices have become increasingly destructive around the world—including hydraulic fracturing and tar sands. This general increase in human mobility and expulsion is now widely recognized as a deﬁning feature of the twenty-ﬁrst century.

Whether to keep us out, keep us in, or simply segregate us for statistical purposes, both societies and governments are concerned with our point of origin as a defining piece of information. There is no escape. The more we move, the more we are connected to where we began. Our great migration is a tremendous force of social change and progress. The world into which one is born holds little resemblance to the one in which we die.

So, more than ever, there remains this question: where are you from?[/one_half_last]

PotD / Social Commentary

Self

September 15, 2015

The Beauty In Nature (2009)

Trust yourself. Create the kind of self that you will be happy to live with all your life. Make the most of yourself by fanning the tiny, inner sparks of possibility into flames of achievement.—Golda Meir

[one_half padding=”4px 0 px 0 4px”]Over the years, I think more has been written about the self than any other topic. Self-worth, self-esteem, self-identity, self-loathing, self-love, and self-help are all topics that have lined bookshelves and stores as long as humans have put ink on parchment. We are very concerned about ourselves and have little difficulty discussing ourselves endlessly, especially now that we have social media so that we can broadcast every ridiculous and trivial detail about ourselves to the entire world. With the advent of phones with cameras, we’ve even started taking voluminous pictures of ourselves, and call them selfies. We are, and always have been, quite full of ourselves.

What has been born out by countless research, however, is that for all our bravado, we really don’t like ourselves all that much. How one sees one’s self determines to a large degree how one sees others. Where we are unsure of our own qualities we find fault in others in an effort to compensate for and distract from our insecurities. We don’t like our bodies, so we shame the bodies of others. We are embarrassed by our own sexual proclivities, so we express outrage at the sexual identities of others. We feel inadequate in our own understanding of a subject, so we refer to those who are experts on that subject in as unflattering a way as possible.Every negative we see or imagine in ourselves we reflect back in some way negatively on others. [/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]For several years, self-help and self-improvement books and audio tapes have been one of the world’s best-selling genres. We understand that our view of ourselves is inferior and misguided, but we are unsure how to best address the issue. Then, studies have shown, once we purchase the book and begin to see what is required to change, we give up and stop reading. We want to improve ourselves without having to make any significant changes or sacrifice to our current lives. If possible, we would happily take a pill to make it all better, but to have to actually work toward improvement is something very few of us are disciplined enough to actually do.

So, we continue, from one generation to the next, parent to child, handing down the same foibles and shortcomings that have limited us since the dawn of our existence. We fight the same wars, often with the same group of people, we have the same arguments, we battle the same ghosts as everyone who has gone before us. We blame others for refusing to change, to grow, or evolve, not wanting to realize that the problem is more with us than with them.

We talk a lot about improving the world, but we must first start by improving ourselves.[/one_half_last]

PotD / Social Commentary

Pain

September 14, 2015

Attic Fashion (2011). Model: Sarah Harris. Hair & Makeup: Christopher Thompson. Styling: Tiffany Gilstrap Scott.

Without pain, there would be no suffering, without suffering we would never learn from our mistakes. To make it right, pain and suffering is the key to all windows, without it, there is no way of life.—Angelina Jolie

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]Humans are designed with a built-in warning device called pain. We feel it soon after we are detached from our mother’s umbilical cord. Hunger is our first experience with pain. We cry and someone feeds us. The pain is our body’s way of telling us that something isn’t working correctly, that a part of us needs attention. Yet, as a society we are intolerant of pain and just as we remove the batteries from smoke detectors so that we don’t have to put up with the screeching sound going off at unexpected moments, we try to mask or cover or ignore the pain we feel. We shove the pain into our emotional attic and try to forget that it exists.

As young children, we are taught that expressing our feelings of pain is not acceptable. “Walk it off.” “Suck it up.” “No pain, no gain.” Our intent is to dissuade children from complaining about every little insignificant boo-boo they encounter. “If it’s not bleeding, you don’t need a bandage.” The longer-term effect, though, is that from those very early moments we teach children that feeling and expressing pain is a bad thing. No one wants to hear about your pain. Ignore it and it will go away. Be tough and play through the pain.

Often, however, that strategy backfires on us. My father’s youngest sister succumbed to cancer perhaps sooner than was necessary because she chose to treat the pain, not the cause. Rather than being consistent with the chemotherapy, she chose alternative treatments that only covered up the pain. Only when the pain became intolerable did she return to her doctor, and by then the cancer had spread too for treatment to be effective. She didn’t even communicate to her family that anything was wrong until the pain became debilitating. She didn’t want them to worry. She had seven children and wanted to put pain aside to care for them. While her attitude might seem noble, in the end it took her from them sooner than might have been necessary.[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]Part of our problem in dealing with pain is that we look at it as an inconvenience and a bother rather than the warning system it is. When, as a child, we first encounter something hot and we pull back from it, learn to treat it with some respect and don’t touch it again without taking appropriate precaution to not burn ourselves. That is an appropriate response to pain. Consider what causes the problem. Fix it, if possible. Respect what caused the pain and then take steps to not repeat the pain again. Yet, we don’t apply that formula too often once we pass the age of five. We prefer to ignore the pain and keep going.

Philosopher/poet Kahlil Gibran penned these wise words:

Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses
your understanding.

Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its
heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.

And could you keep your heart in wonder at the
daily miracles of your life, your pain would not seem
less wondrous than your joy;

And you would accept the seasons of your heart,
even as you have always accepted the seasons that
pass over your fields.

And you would watch with serenity through the
winters of your grief.

As we get older, pain becomes a more constant part of our reality. There are some pains, both physical and emotional, that will never go away no matter what we do. Our challenge is to not look at our pain as an inconvenience, but rather an opportunity to learn.[/one_half_last]

PotD / Social Commentary

Humanity

September 13, 2015

Held Together (2010)

You must not lose faith in humanity. Humanity is an ocean; if a few drops of the ocean are dirty, the ocean does not become dirty.—Mahatma Gandhi

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]Humanity is baffling. How can the same species that produces individuals of great caring and compassion also produce those of great hate, deceit, and cruelty? How can some countries with practically no economic standing offer to take in more refugees than they can hold while another with every economic advantage in the world prefers to build a wall? How can one claim there is sanctity in life and still desire to put people to death?

The multiple paradoxes of humanity, though, are part of what defines us. One doesn’t see other species wake in the morning pondering whether to participate in the genocide of millions. In being given the choice to choose between right and wrong, we create an everlasting and inherent struggle between doing that which preserves ourselves and acting toward the greater good. While this struggle has always been within us, we seem blind to the lessons that would be taught by the actions of others and still look for ways to justify our own selfishness and greed while doing our best to minimize the good of others.[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]What makes the difference in whether make choices for the good of all or the good of ourselves is a matter of focus. When we only look in, we do not see the needs of those around us, no matter how blatantly obvious they may be. When we only look outward, we see those needs and feel compelled to respond to them, perhaps neglecting the necessity of our own care and well-being. Trying to look both directions, though, only sets up more conflict and confusion as to what we should do.

Humanity has no easy answers. To be human is to struggle, continually, with right and wrong, good and bad, selfish or selfless. Humanity has had great successes and colossal failures based on the decisions of a few individuals. When kindness is answered with greed we become monsters. When cruelty is answered with compassion we become angels. Humanity has the ability to be either, and we each decide in which camp we will reside with the dawn of every morning.[/one_half_last]

Fashion / PotD

A Good Pair Of Shoes

September 12, 2015

A Good Pair of Shoes

You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself in any direction you choose. You’re on your own, and you know what you know. And you are the guy who’ll decide where to go.—Dr. Seuss

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]So, here we are in the middle of New York Fashion Week and already we’ve had one of the biggest spectacles we’re likely to see all month.Traffic on New York’s West side will be a nightmare all week. You’ll need a good pair of shoes if you’re going because much of the time it will be easier and faster to just get out of the cab and walk the last few blocks to the venue. Even after all these years of covering these same shows, I’m still amazed at the number of people who put so much of their lives into what comes down the runways at these shows.

Fashion really is a big deal and for countries such as Italy and France, it contributes significantly to their national economy. Not that the average person in either country has a closet full of couture wear, but it employees thousands of people and the taxes fashion generates contribute heavily to the health of those nations. Yet, because both are so reliant on sales outside of their borders, when economies such as China’s suddenly stumble, the effect for fashion labels can be severe and we’re already seeing that, especially with Italian labels. More than a handful of large fashion houses have seen considerable declines the past few weeks. Some, such as Prada, are beginning to seriously struggle.[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]I can understand people being concerned about shoes. After all, the ground is rough and at times dangerous. I felt sorry for a couple of models who took tumbles on the runway last night because the designer thought it would be cool to not tie their shoes. Shoes are critical to our ability to get around and do the things we need to do. Fashion, on the other hand, isn’t really that important at all. Beyond the matter of practicality, the only reasons we have for concerning ourselves with fashion is to either make people notice us or to pretend that the labels we wear make us better than anyone else.

Okay, so we can’t exactly go naked all the time, even though some may want that. Street style tells us that most people would rather dress for comfort than style. Paying extra money just for a label is foolish and our heads know that. All we ever really need is a good pair of shoes; the rest can be off the rack from Goodwill and we’re happy with that. So why all this fuss? Maybe it’s the art. Maybe we’re dreaming. Maybe we want to stand out. Or maybe it’s just because you like my reviews, which you’ll find over on Pattern all month (shameless plug). You choose which way you’ll go. Choose carefully and wear good shoes.[/one_half_last]

Editor’s note: The opinions expressed in this week’s photographs are strictly those of the author: charles i. letbetter, and do not necessarily reflect the attitudes or opinions of the models involved in the pictures. If you don’t like what you see, don’t blame the model. Thank you.

PotD / Social Commentary

Pain In The Ass

September 11, 2015

Pain in the Ass

You gotta love livin’, baby, ’cause dyin’ is a pain in the ass. —Frank Sinatra

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]Today’s meme is insulting to some and offensive to many, but at 4:30 AM EDT, which is when I’m writing this, I really don’t give a shit. I didn’t care last week, either, when I created the pain in the ass meme. Sure, it’s Friday and we tend to try and shrug things off by focusing on the weekend, but I’m rather tired of having to be nice all the time and judging from several conversations I’ve had lately I get the impression that many of you are feeling the same, you just don’t feel that you can safely voice your opinion without getting into trouble.

I’m not aware of any objective research on the subject, but observationally it seems that men seem to be more likely to be a pain in the ass than women. I think it might be because we have control issues and have difficulty letting the people around us think for themselves and act in their own best interests. Guys then use their fists or declare war when they don’t get their way. What a complete pain in the ass those guys are.

Religious people are a pain in the ass to those who are not, and vice versa. For those who are not religious, we really don’t give a flying fuck what anyone else believes and we sure as hell don’t appreciate your beliefs getting in the way of things we want or need to do. For those who are religious, those who are not are a pain in the ass because they threaten and question one’s faith and cause one to second-guess what they’ve been taught.[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]Politicians, in general, are a pain in the ass, but at the current moment I’m especially fed up with the overly-abundant crop running for President. Every last one of them is a pain in the ass. Watch them today. This is the fourteenth anniversary of the 9/11 bombings and I’m willing to bet every last one of those jackasses manages to politicize the event rather than actually memorializing those who were lost. Done. Over them. Next, please.

People asking for money or trying to scam money are a pain in the ass. My email is full of both. Some are wanting me to support a cause. Some want me to support a politician. Some want me to take out a high-interest business loan. Fuck all of them. You know who gets my money? My family. We take care of our needs first, then, if there happens, by some miracle, to be anything left over, we’ll use it to help people who have legitimate need, not something they’ve concocted for a campaign.

Okay, so maybe I’m in a mood this morning. We all have the ability to be a pain in the ass from time to time, but there are too many people for whom being a pain in the ass has become a dominant personality trait. Everyone else on the planet is trying to make the most of their pathetic lives and we don’t need jackasses getting in the way. So, to all the pains in the ass we’ve mentioned, and those we didn’t: Fuck you, fuck off, get the fuck out of our lives. Now, enjoy your weekend.[/one_half_last]

Editor’s note: The opinions expressed in this week’s photographs are strictly those of the author: charles i. letbetter, and do not necessarily reflect the attitudes or opinions of the models involved in the pictures. If you don’t like what you see, don’t blame the model. Thank you.

Fashion / pop culture / PotD

Wearing Pants

September 10, 2015

Wearing Pants

I am a strong woman with or without this other person, with or without this job, and with or without these tight pants.—Queen Latifah

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]Full disclosure: I’m not wearing any pants. While I fully support the #freethenipple campaign, I’m personally not all that comfortable sitting around the house without a shirt. Pants, though, are a different matter. I’m more than willing to let them stay in the closet, or on the bedroom floor, until right before the children wake up. Then, once the kids are off to school, being very thankful for bus service, the pants come off again. One of the perks of being my own boss and working from home is that it is largely up to me to decide whether any given moment is going to involve pants, and if it’s just Kat and me, there’s really no point in bothering.

Not wearing pants does not necessarily mean one is naked below the waist. While I’m not generally opposed to that scenario, there are times when naked doesn’t work well, such as when one has leather furniture. Wearing a kilt or a skirt or a dress doesn’t count as wearing pants, either. My mother never wore pants when I was little. Instead, she wore dresses and skirts even around the house. She didn’t feel that pants were sufficiently feminine until one particularly cold winter in Kansas when she finally broke down and bought her first pantsuit. Over time, she became more relaxed with pants, but she always still preferred dresses, especially in the summer.[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]The problem with pants is that they tend to be restrictive, especially around the waist. I honestly don’t see how people wear the current crop of skinny jeans and still manage to eat enough food to keep themselves alive. Those of us who enjoy eating understand that the waist is going to expand and contract at various times throughout the day and pants don’t allow for that, unless you’re shopping in the old men’s section of Sears.

The upside to pants, I’m told, is that one doesn’t have to shave one’s legs as often. Being male and not involved in a sport where aerodynamics is a factor, I can’t really speak to this issue. I know plenty of women with fair hair who can get by without shaving too often. I’ve also known others who almost needed to do so twice a day. Nature can be cruel like that.

Today is the start of New York Fashion Week (NYFW) and designers will be showing their Spring/Summer 2016 collections. Don’t expect a lot of pants. Skirts, yes. Dresses, definitely. Shorts, let’s hope so. Sure, there will be a few with pants in their collections, but the best designers know that pants are limiting. To be really cool and comfortable in warm weather, one needs to be without pants every moment possible.[/one_half_last]

Editor’s note: The opinions expressed in this week’s photographs are strictly those of the author: charles i. letbetter, and do not necessarily reflect the attitudes or opinions of the models involved in the pictures. If you don’t like what you see, don’t blame the model. Thank you.

Art / PotD / Social Commentary

Being Awesome

September 9, 2015

charles i. letbetter - charles i. letbetter

Being Awesome

It is possible to become discouraged about the injustice we see everywhere. But God did not promise us that the world would be humane and just. He gives us the gift of life and allows us to choose the way we will use our limited time on earth. It is an awesome opportunity.—Cesar Chavez

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]Awesome; some people have it in abundance, other’s couldn’t buy it if it were packaged and on the dollar store shelves. Awesome goes beyond the ability to do something different and extraordinary. Awesome is the ability to remain cool, graceful, compassionate, and approachable while setting an example worthy of being emulated. Those who are the most incredibly awesome can’t seem to help themselves; the awesomeness almost seems to come oozing from the pores in their skin. In contrast, others seem to botch everything they do and serve more as a life lesson in how not to do things; no matter how hard they try, something always goes wrong.

One of the first awesome people I ever met was the late pianist, Van Cliburn. I was only six years old when the rather reclusive, and to some, difficult, performer gave a brief exhibition somewhere close enough to us that my parents were able to take me. I had been taking piano lessons myself for a couple of years at that point, but was nowhere near the prodigy he had been. I was mesmerized watching his hands fly over the keyboard.

After he finished playing, everyone had gathered around for autographs and my mother was trying to guide me that direction, but this was also the first time I had seen a twelve-foot grand piano. I was as interested in the instrument as I was the person playing it and slipped away from my mother and sat my short little self on the piano bench. From my perspective, the piano was huge and scary.[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”] I let my fingers lightly touch the keys, being very careful to not actually press one down; I was shy and attention was the last thing I wanted. But as I sat there, pretending to play scales and finger exercises, it was probably inevitable that a finger would slip. When it did, the sound coming from the piano seemed massive, though it was just a single tone. I pulled my hand back quickly and looked around for Mother, expecting to be in trouble.

Instead, the tall, lanky frame of the great pianist came over, sat next to me on the bench, and said, “Go ahead, play.” I was scared, so he took my small hands in his massive ones and placed them on the action. All I could manage to play was a simple scale. Van Cliburn, being awesome, was full of praise. “See, you did it,” he said quietly. “Don’t be afraid. You can do great things.” Awesome.

I’ve met plenty of other awesome people over the years, enough that the stories could go on for hours. The thing about truly awesome people is that one never expects them to be as awesome as they are; it just seems to happen. Yesterday, a friend took me by surprise and quietly invited a large number of people to like our Facebook page. As the numbers began to jump, it took me a moment to figure out who was responsible. Betty Blade Holly is one of those people who can’t hide the awesome.

I know there are others. Maybe you’re one of them. Don’t be afraid. Be awesome.[/one_half_last]

pop culture / PotD

Quiet, Please

September 8, 2015

Quiet, Please

All men’s miseries derive from not being able to sit in a quiet room alone.—Blaise Pascal

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]There’s something to be said for good, intelligent conversation. Almost everyone has at least one friend with whom they can sit and talk for hours and the conversation never become boring or argumentative or difficult. Those are people we respect, love, and enjoy having in our lives.

Then, there’s everyone else, the people who never shut the fuck up, who always must be speaking (usually about themselves), who never listen to anyone’s opinion other than their own, never let anyone else get a word in edge-wise, and never end a conversation on another’s statement. Those are the people whom we most often desire to meet an untimely but just demise, or at least wish they’d move to the other side of the planet. They don’t know how to be quiet.

Perhaps it was growing up in small, rural churches that taught me how to be quiet. When there are only 20-30 people in attendance, every little sound draws attention. Unlike churches today, where children are only seen in the main worship service for Baptisms and holiday pageants, we didn’t always have a nursery worker. I would have to sit in the congregation with my mother, which wasn’t easy on either one of us. The threat was always that if I wasn’t quiet and behaved during the service my butt was getting spanked when we got home. Damn, if I didn’t learn to be quiet![/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]Ours was ever an especially rambunctious household, though. The four of us could easily go a couple of hours with no one saying anything. Momma would be reading or grading papers, Poppa would be immersed in the evening paper, I would be either practicing the piano or doing homework, while Squirt played quietly with his toys or sat watching television. Our house could be surprisingly quiet. Conversation occurred at the dinner table for the most part, and beyond that any talking we did was born largely out of necessity, giving instruction, asking/answering a question, and occasionally playing a game. Quiet was valued.

Today, though, we are surrounded by noise, even when it’s not audible. The Internet, and especially social media, provide too many people with absolutely nothing worthwhile to say, the opportunity to speak at volumes they would never actually consider were one to meet them in public. They post endless memes, share inflammatory rhetoric in a constant stream, and never seem to shut up even to go to work or sleep. Quiet is practically non-existent.

Quiet stimulates creative thought and the more one talks the less creative that speech becomes. We need the break from the cacophony our planet serves up. There is a time to speak, but without quiet we have no time to consider what’s been said. So please, do everyone a favor: shut the fuck up. Now.[/one_half_last]

Editor’s note: The opinions expressed in this week’s photographs are strictly those of the author: charles i. letbetter, and do not necessarily reflect the attitudes or opinions of the models involved in the pictures. If you don’t like what you see, don’t blame the model. Thank you.

pop culture / PotD

Better Beauty

September 7, 2015

Better Beauty

When virtue and modesty enlighten her charms, the lustre of a beautiful woman is brighter than the stars of heaven, and the influence of her power it is in vain to resist.—Akhenaton

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]Once upon a time, it was an accepted fact that only a few, the fortunate, the lucky, the pampered, had any hope of being beautiful. Life was hard. Women were married and bearing children by the time they were fourteen, working in fields, toiling over hot wood stoves, and putting up with everything from dysentery to abusive husbands. People aged quickly. Life was short. Beauty was nice if you had it, but most didn’t and they were okay with that. One looked for something deeper in other people. Who was kind? Who was benevolent? Who was skilled? Those issues mattered much more than who was beautiful because with beauty too often came laziness.

Then, in the late 1950s and through the hippy faze of the 60s self-esteem gurus such as Nathaniel Branden started telling us that everyone is beautiful and we bought it. Well, more specifically, your parents and grandparents bought it; we were the product. 1970’s popular song Everything Is Beautiful by Ray Stevens (no relation to Cat Stevens), further sealed the concept in our minds that there is no such thing as ugly or unattractive. The concept was cemented with the movement that insisted everyone get a trophy, that children’s games shouldn’t keep score so there are no losers, and that everyone who participates is equal.[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]Bullshit. You know it. I know it. The world knows it. Not everyone is beautiful, just as not everyone can play the piano or pitch a no-hitter for the Yankees. And for Pete’s sake let’s make it good and clear that not everyone is a goddamn model. There are immutable standards for beauty that have stood since the dawn of time and they can be defined mathematically in something called the golden ratio. If you don’t speak math, I’m not going to take the time here to explain it to you. Just know that the ratio has always occurred in nature and once we figured it out some 2400 years ago we started adapting it to everything from architecture to art.

The golden ratio applies to people as well, from our face to our body proportions. Those whose features come most closely to matching those ratios, such as Cindy Crawford, Audry Hepburn, and Marilyn Monroe, are those we inherently consider beautiful. This isn’t some 20th-century thing and no, it’s not limited to any one culture. The phenomenon is universal. Society can attempt to re-define beauty by being more inclusive, but that does not deter what nature has decreed. Sure, you can say everyone is beautiful, but not everyone wears it well.[/one_half_last]

Editor’s note: The opinions expressed in this week’s photographs are strictly those of the author: charles i. letbetter, and do not necessarily reflect the attitudes or opinions of the models involved in the pictures. If you don’t like what you see, don’t blame the model. Thank you.

pop culture / PotD

Welcome To Meme Week

September 6, 2015

Poison Coffee

The meme for blind faith secures its own perpetuation by the simple unconscious expedient of discouraging rational inquiry.—Richard Dawkins

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]Welcome to meme week! Sort of. I have this well-engrained habit of taking pictures that leave room for copy (those are the words in an advertisement). Almost every set I shoot has a couple of images that leave that kind of space. So, I thought we’d play with that a little bit this week.

In the most strict sense of the word, what we’re presenting this week probably falls short of actually being a meme. You see, we have British biologist Richard Dawkins to thank for putting the concept of meme into the public lexicon. The definition he was using, though, had nothing to do with silly pictures or the Internet. He coined the word in 1976. There was no Internet. Rather, he was using a definition more like this:

a cultural item that is transmitted by repetition and replication in a manner analogous to the biological transmission of genes.

For something to actually be a meme, it has to spread, such as from parent to children, President to citizens, teacher to students, or pastor to congregation. The presumption is that for a meme to spread, there must be some value to the idea or concept, something that make it worth sharing.[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]Nothing we’re going to share with you this week is that heavy. I’m not going to pretend that any of our photos this week have an ounce of actual value to them. Instead, what we have here more falls in line with the Urban Dictionary’s definition:

Used to give a bit of pseudo-academic gravitas to stupid viral shit.

I’m not even going to claim that any of this week’s photos are funny. Funny wasn’t what we wanted. Instead, we went for things more along the line of insulting (such as today’s), egotistical, and sexually inappropriate. If my read of the Internet is correct, those factors should make them immensely popular.

But that works only if you share them. And since we’ve disabled right clicks on this page, you’ll need to share the whole post, not just the picture. If you don’t share them, then all we have are pictures with bad copy on them. You’ll find the social media sharing icons below each post, or if you came from Facebook, you can share the link there. The success or failure of this week lies in your hands.

Yes, I’m very frightened.[/one_half_last]

Editor’s note: The opinions expressed in this week’s photographs are strictly those of the author: charles i. letbetter, and do not necessarily reflect the attitudes or opinions of the models involved in the pictures. If you don’t like what you see, don’t blame the model. Thank you.

Fashion / PotD

More Than Jeans

September 5, 2015

A Hot Summer (2009)

The whole thing of clothes is insane. You can spend a dollar on a jacket in a thrift store. And you can spend a thousand dollars on a jacket in a shop. And if you saw those two jackets walking down the street, you probably wouldn’t know which was which.—Helen Mirren

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]We’ve talked all week about jeans as though they were the only option for denim clothing. Reality paints a much larger and more varied picture, though. Denim jackets, dresses, shorts, skirts, bustiers, bras, leggings, socks and even denim footwear have, at various times, come in and out of popularity. Granted, not all of those were necessarily good ideas. The socks, leggings, bras, and footwear were all very short lived because, while they presented a unique look, they were a bit short on practicality. Denim is, after all, a fairly heavy material that can induce perspiration in places one doesn’t especially want any level of dampness. Not quite everything works.

Growing up in the 70s, it seemed as though almost everything was made of denim. Not only was everyone wearing their favorite flared-legged jeans, denim skirts were a huge rage. Not short, denim mini-skirts, either. Long, calf- or ankle-length denim skirts seemed to be everywhere. What has been interesting is that for a group of particularly conservative religious fundamentalists, that style of denim skirt or dress has stuck. One can still see them worn by women and young girls whose hair has never been cut, with plain blouses, as they shop at discount stores and thrift markets. Even a certain notorious court clerk wore a denim skirt to one of her many court appearances.[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]Much more popular, though, has been denim shorts and jackets. The jackets are especially popular with those who spend a lot of time on motorcycles because the denim provides similar protection as leather, but is more suitable for attaching patches and embroidery popular among riding clubs. Jean jackets are also heavy enough to keep one warm without interrupting the style going on underneath. They can be accessorized with anything from diamonds to costume brooches and still look great. A jeans jacket can be one of the most flexible pieces in a person’s wardrobe.

Nothing, though, beats the super-short, cut-off jeans look known as Daisy Dukes. Popular long before a television sitcom gave them that name, the shorts have become a summertime standard for young women everywhere, much to the delight of young men everywhere. There’s something to be said for the way the jeans shorts presents a young woman’s posterior and can make a short girl’s legs look longer than they are. Jeans shorts define that down-home, girl-next-door sensuality that turns heads and breaks hearts.

So ends our look at denim. What started as a fabric for workers has taken over the world. Fashion weeks are coming and I expect to see no shortage of denim still, so watch for it.[/one_half_last]

potd

Man who invented the hamburger was smart; man who invented the cheeseburger was a genius.—Matthew McConaughey

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There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls.—George Carlin

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Providing meaning to a mass of unrelated needs, ideas, words and pictures – it is the designer’s job to select and fit this material together and make it interesting.—Paul Rand

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When your time comes to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with fear of death, so that when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way. Sing your death song, and die like a hero going home.—Tecumseh

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Must we wait for selection to solve the problems of overpopulation, exhaustion of resources, pollution of the environment and a nuclear holocaust, or can we take explicit steps to make our future more secure? In the latter case, must we not transcend selection? —B. F. Skinner

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Where justice is denied, where poverty is enforced, where ignorance prevails, and where any one class is made to feel that society is an organized conspiracy to oppress, rob and degrade them, neither persons nor property will be safe.—Frederick Douglass

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As a culture I see us as presently deprived of subtleties. The music is loud, the anger is elevated, sex seems lacking in sweetness and privacy.—Shelley Berman

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We were at a beach one summer, and I had a bathing suit on. My wife looked at me and said: ‘Boy, you are skinny, aren’t you?’ I said: ‘Honey, I’d like to remind you that it was minor defects like this that kept me from getting a better wife.’—Lou Holtz

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As an example to others, and not that I care for moderation myself, it has always been my rule never to smoke when asleep, and never to refrain from smoking when awake.—Mark Twain

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If you ask what is the single most important key to longevity, I would have to say it is avoiding worry, stress and tension. And if you didn’t ask me, I’d still have to say it.—George Burns

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I do not have much patience with a thing of beauty that must be explained to be understood. If it does need additional interpretation by someone other than the creator, then I question whether it has fulfilled its purpose.—Charlie Chaplin

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The paradox of education is precisely this – that as one begins to become conscious one begins to examine the society in which he is being educated.—James A. Baldwin

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Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, ambition inspired, and success achieved.—Helen Keller

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That means that every human being – without distinction of sex, age, race, skin color, language, religion, political view, or national or social origin – possesses an inalienable and untouchable dignity.—Hans Kung

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Trust yourself. Create the kind of self that you will be happy to live with all your life. Make the most of yourself by fanning the tiny, inner sparks of possibility into flames of achievement.—Golda Meir

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Without pain, there would be no suffering, without suffering we would never learn from our mistakes. To make it right, pain and suffering is the key to all windows, without it, there is no way of life.—Angelina Jolie

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You must not lose faith in humanity. Humanity is an ocean; if a few drops of the ocean are dirty, the ocean does not become dirty.—Mahatma Gandhi

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You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself in any direction you choose. You’re on your own, and you know what you know. And you are the guy who’ll decide where to go.—Dr. Seuss

Editor’s note: The opinions expressed in this week’s photographs are strictly those of the author: charles i. letbetter, and do not necessarily reflect the attitudes or opinions of the models involved in the pictures. If you don’t like what you see, don’t blame the model. Thank you.

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You gotta love livin’, baby, ’cause dyin’ is a pain in the ass. —Frank Sinatra

Editor’s note: The opinions expressed in this week’s photographs are strictly those of the author: charles i. letbetter, and do not necessarily reflect the attitudes or opinions of the models involved in the pictures. If you don’t like what you see, don’t blame the model. Thank you.

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I am a strong woman with or without this other person, with or without this job, and with or without these tight pants.—Queen Latifah

Editor’s note: The opinions expressed in this week’s photographs are strictly those of the author: charles i. letbetter, and do not necessarily reflect the attitudes or opinions of the models involved in the pictures. If you don’t like what you see, don’t blame the model. Thank you.

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It is possible to become discouraged about the injustice we see everywhere. But God did not promise us that the world would be humane and just. He gives us the gift of life and allows us to choose the way we will use our limited time on earth. It is an awesome opportunity.—Cesar Chavez

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All men’s miseries derive from not being able to sit in a quiet room alone.—Blaise Pascal

Editor’s note: The opinions expressed in this week’s photographs are strictly those of the author: charles i. letbetter, and do not necessarily reflect the attitudes or opinions of the models involved in the pictures. If you don’t like what you see, don’t blame the model. Thank you.

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When virtue and modesty enlighten her charms, the lustre of a beautiful woman is brighter than the stars of heaven, and the influence of her power it is in vain to resist.—Akhenaton

Editor’s note: The opinions expressed in this week’s photographs are strictly those of the author: charles i. letbetter, and do not necessarily reflect the attitudes or opinions of the models involved in the pictures. If you don’t like what you see, don’t blame the model. Thank you.

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The meme for blind faith secures its own perpetuation by the simple unconscious expedient of discouraging rational inquiry.—Richard Dawkins

Editor’s note: The opinions expressed in this week’s photographs are strictly those of the author: charles i. letbetter, and do not necessarily reflect the attitudes or opinions of the models involved in the pictures. If you don’t like what you see, don’t blame the model. Thank you.

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The whole thing of clothes is insane. You can spend a dollar on a jacket in a thrift store. And you can spend a thousand dollars on a jacket in a shop. And if you saw those two jackets walking down the street, you probably wouldn’t know which was which.—Helen Mirren

Must we wait for selection to solve the problems of overpopulation, exhaustion of resources, pollution of the environment and a nuclear holocaust, or can we take explicit steps to make our future more secure? In the latter case, must we not transcend selection?
—B. F. Skinner