The problem has been remedied, however, and all the links are once again in working order. So head on over to my Fiction or Poetry page whenever you have some free time. As always, I welcome any comments you may have on my work. Those comments and/or suggestions can be sent to broca74@yahoo.com.

Thanks!

That, of course, is why I’m writing in this blog again. I realize I’m not likely to say anything earth-shatteringly important for anyone stopping by to read my posts, but it’s good practice. So thanks for stopping by and reading. I know you don’t have to.

It occurred to me a few days ago that writing requires a fair amount of inspiration, whether writing press releases, articles or novels. You can fake it to a certain degree with short projects such as articles or even research papers, but writing any form of fiction always requires a source of true inspiration. You can sometimes find inspiration by reading what someone else has written concerning a subject that interests you or by diving into an engrossing novel, but the truest, most valuable form of inspiration seems to come from actually doing something yourself.

Therein lies my new plan. I want to get out and do more this year. I love reading and watching a great movie, both of which are well and good – but it seems to me that I’ll encounter much more inspiration if I get out and look for adventure that I can call my own. Nothing crazy, of course. I don’t intend to sail a yacht off the coast of Somalia just to see what it’s like to have a close encounter with murderous pirates. I’m a married man with kids, so I think I’ll keep it simple and somewhere this side of deadly.

In fact, my plan is to look for activities not only compatible with the life of a family man who has responsibilities, but activities that are perfect for the whole family. A little camping, as many road trips as we can manage, hunting trips with the kid, etc.

One such idea was handed to me on a silver platter by my cousin during dinner last night. Ok, she didn’t actually hand it to me on a silver platter. We were eating at the time, but not with silver platters. Paper plates, if you must know. Yeah, that’s right – opulence. Boom.

Anyway, she said a word I had never heard in my life: “geocaching.” After her description and a bit of online sleuthing, it seems that geocaching is a game in which participants all over the world hide little caches of trinkets – usually something inexpensive but cool – in relatively hidden places for others to find. Once they’ve placed said cache, they’ll go to www.geocaching.com and leave a vague description of the hidden treasure along with the location’s coordinates and any clues they wish to impart. Others will take those clues, find the hidden site and take the trinket. In order to keep the site active, this person will leave a trinket of equal value so the next treasure who comes along. In this manner, a site can remain active for years, providing numerous geocache hunters with enjoyment and a little adventure.

It’s essentially a modern-day treasure hunt using a bit of technology and an occasional bit of riddle-solving. Perfect for the kids and perfect for me, since I in fact am still a kid who really likes scavenger hunts and the whole idea of buried treasure.

So it’s time to grab the hand-held gps device, dust off my staggering riddle-solving skills (which aren’t really staggering) and head off with the wife and kids on a modern-day treasure hunt through strange, treacherous lands. Minus the treacherous part.

If you’d like to know more about this really cool and only semi-geeky pastime, go to www.geocaching.com. I’m sure the people who contribute to that site can tell you a great deal more about this hobby than I can since they have actually done it before.

Happy hunting!

Like basically every person alive, I have typically set myself up for failure each year by making New Year’s resolutions. The goals have always been respectable and healthy, but such resolutions are like most other things born on a drawing board – whether that drawing board be real or metaphorical: they never work out in real life the way they were imagined when conceived. And that’s if they work out in any form at all rather than taking a one-way trip to the circular filing cabinet.

I have a buddy who has always been a gym junkie. He works out several times a week at the gym near our neighborhood and recently mentioned a phenomenon that he had witnessed in past years but has just recently noticed: going to the gym and actually finding available equipment in early January is difficult during peak hours. Normally, he’s able to walk into the gym and immediately start working out on any type of machine he wishes to use. At the moment, however, he frequently spends most of his allotted time waiting.

In a few more weeks, according to my buddy’s best guess, things will be back to normal and he’ll once again be able to hit the gym without having to add thumb twiddling to his routine. The reason for this, of course, is that a majority of the influx is comprised of people who are trying their best to make good on New Year’s resolutions. As is the case every year, according to my friend, these people will start dropping like flies in terms of gym attendance.

He’s not looking down at his nose when he talks about these people, of course. The next part of the conversation consisted of him complaining about his own new failures in the resolution department.

His little anecdote points out the futility of New Year’s Resolutions. Why do we do it to ourselves? I suppose I should ask, “Why do you guys do it to yourselves?”, as I have chosen to turn my back on that ritual this year. I already know I need to work out, make better choices about what I eat, and spend more time writing. I don’t need a significant date on the calendar to remind me that I’ve got a lazy streak, a sweet tooth and an expanding gut.

I’ll do my best on the eating and exercising issues, but one thing I certainly plan to improve upon is the time I allot for writing. I love writing and would like to someday make some extra money with it (ok, I would like to become world-famous and insufferably rich with it).

I realize that I have essentially made a New Year’s resolution with that last statement, but it’s now January 11th – so I’m free and clear. After 11:59 pm on January 1, such statements are plans – not resolutions – and therefore not susceptible to the same high risk of failure.

That’s what I’m resolving to tell myself, at least.

When this country was engaged in the Cold War against the USSR, we spoke very clearly about the evils of communism. We were not simply combatting the spread of communism or its specific application in areas we considered sensitive to our own national security. We were bold enough and brave enough to combat communism itself. We called it for what it was – a flawed and inherently evil political philosophy that was not in harmony with the human spirit.

We of course knew at the time that many citizens of the USSR and other communist nations were not themselves our enemies. In fact, many such citizens were unwilling victims of this tyrannical system. We were at war with Russia and its government – not her people. Still, we had the wisdom to avoid mincing words. Communism was and is evil, and we did not hesitate during the Cold War to call a spade a spade.

I am afraid we have lost that sort of conviction in this country. We have abandoned all things black and white and embraced the numbing “freedom” of gray. There is no evil, because identifying anything as such would be politically incorrect. It would be insensitive to engage in such absolutism, as it would offend some of those associated with the matter being discussed.

The Cold War is over (for the most part, though it seems to be reemerging), but we have a new enemy. Unfortunately, this enemy has proven to be more nebulous. Identifying this enemy requires more honesty and candidness than our previous nemesis. If employs a high degree of subtelty, and could therefore be called the perfect evil.

We bend over backwards to ensure the world that we are not at war with Islam, but rather a radical element thereof. However, despite our rabid attempts to not offend anyone, the truth is not on our side. The problem with this claim is that there is no other Islam. Approximately one out of every 55 verses in the Koran provides some level of instruction on how Muslims are to deal with infidels (Christians and Jews are oftened singled out). These commandments range in intensity from “take no Christian or Jew as your friend” to “kill and enslave.” These may be viewed as simply words in someone’s holy book, but the well-documented history of Islam is one of conquest, oppression, violence and enslavement. Its history is absolutely in harmony with the teachings of the Koran, so anyone who values honesty must admit that Islam, at its core, has proven to be a violent, oppressive religion. The way in which women are treated within predominantly Muslim nations is further evidence of this nature.

I understand fully that there are moderate, peaceful Muslims in this world. In fact, I believe they likely remain the majority of the religion’s believers. Unfortunately, these moderates are held hostage by the radicals who follow a more literal translation of their holy book. For instance, it is rare to hear a Muslim refer to Hamas as a terrorist organization if they are asked to do so in a public forum. It is perfectly safe for a pundit, artist or anyone else for that matter to turn the name or image of Jesus Christ into a joke. They have the luxury of doing so without fear of death threats. I’m sure that disrespect toward Christianity has indeed resulted in death threats on a few occassions, but such a reaction from the Christian community is practically nonexistent.

Christianity does have skeletons in its closet to be sure. The Spanish Inquisition serves as a disturbing example of this. However, the Christian Church left such barbaric misapplication of religion in the dark ages where it belongs. The same cannot be said for Islam. Show me a nation that is predominantly Muslim or a community where Sharia Law is the dominant governing force, and I’ll show you a group of people who apparently weren’t affected by the enlightenment. The Arab world was once a land of progress and enlightenment – both in social and scientific terms. Islam and its oppressive effects on any society foolish enough to adopt it ended that era and replaced it with a seemingly eternal darkness.

I am not calling for open warfare against Islam. I believe we ourselves would become guilty of the sort of evil I have described above if we were to engage in such blanket hostility. I am, however, calling for Americans to speak in open, honest terms regarding Islam – for Islam is not simply another religion. It is a fanatical sociopolitical system that is cleverly wrapped in religion. Its spread is rapid and rampant, and the strict practice thereof, as seen in every location where such is the case, brings about the sort of oppression that we here in the West are supposed to abhor.

I am calling for Americans – not the government, but everyday Americans – to be honest with themselves about what Islam is and what it is not. I want to see Americans vocally reject the notion of communities within this country adopting Sharia law. Concerns regarding such a development in this nation may sound ridiculous to anyone who doesn’t follow the news, but we have already had at least one case in Michigan where a judge allowed Sharia Law to trump constitutional law. That is unacceptable. It is illegal, it is un-American, and it represents the sort of compromise that has gotten us to where we are as a nation today – spirtually and morally broken.

I would like to say that I have no desire to offend those Muslims who honestly consider themselves peaceful and live their lives accordingly, but that would be disengenuous – for I know this will indeed offend them. Having said that, this is thankfully still America. You have numerous rights, but you do not have the right to not be offended.

We have a spriritual and moral vacuum in this country. Let’s restore our nation by filling that vacuum once again with God and His principles. Otherwise, someone with stronger and darker convictions will fill that void for us. And I assure you that we will not like what they fill it with.

It’s time to once again wake up the sleeping giant.

Yes, it is as fun as it sounds – which is to say it is akin to having your toe nails removed with very coarse sandpaper and then getting thrown into a pit full of lions who have had their teeth removed but retain the full extent of their jaw strength. The outcome is eventually the same as an encounter with normal lions, but the process is somewhat drawn out and ridiculous.

I’ve also had a healthy dose of homework to keep up with during my time in Miami (it’s I Maim if you say it backwards, and that’s precisely what this town does to your soul), so I’ve had little energy for writing. I promise to get back into the swing of things upon my return, so please stay tuned.

The problem is, I never get to see that side of the city. The side I get to see is similar to the side of a dog you wouldn’t want to touch right after he comes back in from a trip to the yard. Actually, those of you without serious mental disorders probably wouldn’t want to touch that side ever.

Ever…

No, the part of the city I always get to see consists primarily of cement and overcrowding. Parts of the city are, not unlike other large cities, unimaginably dirty and run-down. Sure, it has its well-polished areas filled with high-end retail shops and restaurants that require a current financial statement for entry, but what tourist trap can’t boast such offerings? There are beautiful beaches all over this country, many of which can be accessed without first having to drive through a concrete torture chamber. Destin Florida, for example, is a beautiful area with plenty of upscale shopping, fine dining and sunshine. The human-to-concrete ratio is acceptably low and you don’t get the feeling that someone is going to jump out from behind a well-groomed palm tree and take all your money.

Anyway, I decided to rant about Miami today because it’s once again time for me to visit the capital of tropical fail. The Miami International Boat Show starts this Thursday, and virtually everyone in the boating industry is getting ready to storm the gates. Miami is overcrowded to start with, so the area surrounding the convention center can closely resemble an anthill during an event like the boat show. Not a peaceful, undamaged anthill full of unseen ants, but an anthill that just got clobbered by a lawnmower.

I of course mean no offence to those who reside in or wish to reside in the city of Miami. I simply do not like overcrowded cities, whether they’re located in a tropical “paradise”, nestled between a couple of mountains or protruding like a glowing pimple from the desert. Neither do I care much for an overabundance of isolation these days. Somewhere in-between is usually where I like to find myself.

Short entry today. I have a lot to do before hitting the road tomorrow, and as always, not enough time in which to get it all done.

Having said that, President Obama did surprise me today. As with any political move, I’m sure there are details I don’t know about that would quickly make this look like a bad idea, but based on what I know so far, it seems to be a good thing.

As everyone knows, a number of financial institutions received bailout packages from Congress last year. Many of these packages reached into the billions, turning Uncle Sam into the biggest sugar daddy to ever exist.

The truly sickening part was that these bailout packages were offered with little or no oversight, so the money was often spent in ways that should enrage the voting public. That was our money they spent, and they often spent it in ways that would get people shot back when shooting was cool. Many of these financial institutions paid their CEO’s millions of dollars in bonuses and salaries following the bailout, essentially rewarding them for failure. Rewarding an individual for poor results is not exactly in keeping with the tenets of capitalism, and it most certainly is not justifiable when the funds used in those massive compensations come from the public coffers.

This brings us to the part where Obama made me smile for once. Today he announced that he is implementing a new condition for any financial institution accepting bailout money. That financial institution may not offer its CEO a salary or bonuses with a combined sum exceeding $500,000, which represents a severe decrease in the compensation that many such figureheads have come to expect for driving a company into the dirt.

Normally, I would not agree with the federal government dictating salaries for a private company. The idea itself would be preposterous in most situations. However, once a financial institution has accepted federal funding on such a monumental scale, it is no longer simply a private company. It is owned in part by the taxpayers, and those taxpayers should be able to dictate how their money is spent – at least to a certain degree. At the very least, the taxpayers deserve to know that some form of oversight is being implemented to ensure that we as a country have not subsidized more failure.

I could get into the government’s role in landing these financial institutions in their current hell, but that too is best reserved for a later discussion. So thank you, President Obama, for applying a little logic to this otherwise rediculous venture. Even if we never agree on anything again, I can always point back to this day and say, “Yeah, I agreed with him once before everything went to hell. Now get out of my cave so I can get some sleep.”

We had been contemplating this for a while, and a trip to a boutique pet supply store near our hotel sealed the deal for us. The owner had her Miniature Schnauzer in the store with her that day, and we fell in love. The dog was cute, friendly, spunky and just all-around enjoyable. Later, back in our hotel room, the research began. No, “research” is not a codeword for anything naughty. I actually mean research. Anyway, when the wife and I get our minds set on something and begin the research phase, it’s the sort of research that is usually the domain of those with PhD’s and federal grants. We almost crashed the interwebz in the process, and learned everything there is to know about Miniature Schnauzers. The good, the bad and the cute.

Research lead to discussion, discussion lead to a decision, and a decision lead to a search for a good breeder in the area. The breeder selection actually lead to its own research, and we once again bogged down the interwebz with our undying thirst for knowledge. Yeah, I know. That’s a little dramatic. We just wanted information, so we looked for it and found it on the internet. But that doesn’t sound as exciting.

Hi, I'm Buddy. Yes, I know... I'm cute.

The breeder we finally selected was located a little over an hour away, so my wife drove out to look at the puppies while I worked at the boat show (that’s the real reason we were in Destin). While talking to some clients at the show, I received the picture to the left on my Blackberry. The wife had found love. The furry kind with a wet nose and an appetite for chew toys. Yes, that does indeed describe me pretty well whenever I have a cold and haven’t shaved, but I’m referring to the pup this time.

Needless to say, no one with a heart could say no to that face. He was cute, he was healthy, and he had a great personality. He was ours. My wife filled out the paperwork, gave them our money, and jumped back in the car to carry this cute little puppy to his new life with the Brown family. His name is Buddy, because he’s going to be my son’s buddy and it’s easy to say.

Now that we’ve spent a few days with this bundle of yipping cuteness, I consider us lucky. He goes to the bathroom outside, he hasn’t destroyed anything, and he sleeps at the foot of the bed rather than on my face. My son took to him pretty quickly as well, and they spent a little while chasing each other around the house last night. We still have to teach my son the meaing of the word “gentle,” but that will come with a little coaching. He’s only 17 months old, so he only knows two gears: asleep and wide-damn-open. I guess that’s something he and Buddy have in common. Say a prayer for the fragile stuff in our house if you have a moment.

That being said, watching a reporter gush over Obama like a school girl at a New Kids on the Block concert makes one hastily look for a bucket or pan, especially considering the fact that said journalist is supposed to be an objective news source upon whom this country depends for clear and concise information. During President Obama’s campaign, he was given more free rides than Hugh Hephner. The moment a scandal surfaced, it was held under the water and drowned by those gushing fanboys. One of them, whose name rhymes with Chris Matthews, went as far as stating that he “got a thrill in his leg” while listening to Obama’s speech.

A thrill in his leg…

I’m not even going to go there. It’s simply too easy.

It is never safe for a political figure, least of all the most powerful political figure in the world, to be so admired that he or she is held beyond scrutiny. Giving free rides can be dangerous. Ever seen one of those Hitchhiker movies? Yeah, stupid idea.

I have no problem with the fact that journalists are excited about this historic event and are cashing in on the fact that most of the country agrees with them. But it is indeed a sad day when one of this country’s oldest institutions (ok, prostitution is older, but they’re closely related anyway), loses the one element that validates its existence: objectivity. Mainstream media’s sprint toward the far left over the last several years has created a myopic institution that focuses more on a specific ideal or agenda than a commitment to factual reporting.

If it’s not news, it’s entertainment – and I think we already have plenty of entertainment. Thanks anyway.

We’ll see how long this love affair lasts, though. Obama had to placate the left with rhetoric in order to get elected. Now that he’s in office and has been roughed up with the reality bat, people are going to see that he can’t actually deliver on a number of the commitments that landed him in the oval office. No president ever succeeds in fully realizing the promises made on the campaign trail, and some of Obama’s loftier words will make a big splash when they hit the toilet.

Once the masses learn that they are not, in fact, getting fist-fulls of handouts from their beloved messiah, the thrill in the country’s collective leg will transform into a dull ache. When people see that Obama’s foreign policy and anti-terror strategy eventually has to mirror Bush’s approach due to the binding chains of reality, that dull ache will turn into something that requires a tourniquet.

Obama can certainly say he kept one campaign promise, though. Guantanamo Bay is now having a going out of business sale. It seems that no one is buying, however, so I suppose we’ll have a surplus of terrorists with an incarceration deficiency. The world cried for us to do away with that prison, yet when we finally bent to their will, none of those highly vocal critics volunteered to take responsibility for the prisoners. Not even their own countries.

Just for the record, it’s “look before you leap.” Not the other way around. We’ll cover that in the remedial session.

Not just any television, but the news. We’re both news junkies, which is probably another testament to our advancing age. Those of you who already know that my “advancing age” amounts to a big, whopping 34 are already laughing. But you know as well as I do that you can get old as early as you please.

I guess it’s not so much that we’re old, but just tired most of the time. She chases kids around at school, I spend a majority of the day in a stressed-out frenzy, and then we have a 16-month old freight train that likes to run. A lot. Add a heaping dose of homework and house chores to that pot of stew and you have yourself a couple of worn-out people.

The thing is, we didn’t feel at all like we were settling or being defeated by taking our date back to the house. She and I both love our home, both cherish the quiet solitude of our own living room, and were both very pleased about the idea of not staying out late. She and I both have a bit of recluse in us as well, so a quiet living room generally sounds more appealing to us than a crowded theater or mall anyway. That sort of quiet evening is what makes us happy, so I guess it’s ok to act a little “old.”

The other night, I saw something awesome, and that something was Appleseed: Ex Machina. I loved the first one, and had been chomping at the bit to see this new addition to the anime universe. New is a relative term, of course. It was released in the United States in March of 2008, so it’s not that new. It was new to me, though, and I don’t know why I waited so long to watch it.

Guns rock. Period.

It’s almost odd that I liked this film as much as I did. It was directed by John Woo, and I have grown very tired of his style in live-action movies. That whole slo-mo fight sequence concept with people flipping through the air like acrobatic demi-gods who have been innoculated against gravity was awesome at one time. But that “one time” was quite some time ago.

Nonetheless, I seriously loved this movie. The story was pretty good, the art was absolutely amazing, and the fight scenes made me want to start collecting tactical weapons and sign up for a martial arts class. But since I would probably look a lot like Napoleon Dynamite working on his “sweet nunchuck skills”, I decided against the martial arts class. The tactical weapon arsenal is still under consideration, though.

As a general rule, I’m not what you would call a big fan of anime. The Japanese style of storytelling doesn’t usually jive with my brain, so I really have a hard time getting into it in most cases. Once in a while, however, something with a hybrid east/west style comes along – such as Appleseed – and I find myself in awe. There are probably more animated films out there that were cut from this same cloth, and I very much need to find them.