Super.

One of my former bosses said something to the effect of, "Why should I save gas and energy when things like Las Vegas and NASCAR exist?" I respect the logic. If we're going to allow such waste, it's hard to see how one person is going to make a difference. You end up feeling like a chump. 

With that, I give you this article on corporate taxes. It makes filing that 1040 year-after-year seem like a ridiculous joke.

http://www.slate.com/articles/business/moneybox/2013/05/apple_s_tax_dodge_why_the_corporate_income_tax_should_be_scrapped.html

Star Trek Redux

Warning: Spoilers Ahead.

I saw the new movie, Star Trek Into Darkness. I liked it when I was watching it. The casting is spot-on, the dialogue is snappy and the action moves along at a speedy clip that rarely waxes or wanes.

But then there’s the one scene. The one scene that makes me angrier and angrier the more I think about it.

Old Spock.

I’m going to ruin a plot point right here, so cover your eyes if you don’t want to have it ruined.

Khan.

Yes, KHAAAAANNNNNNN! But young Khan. Frankly, a more interesting and tragic Khan. A Khan that you’re not sure about. Maybe a Khan that could go a different direction given the right circumstances? A savior of people Khan.

And then Old Spock comes along.

The question I have for J.J. Abrams and Company is this: Why reboot the franchise with a time warp if you’re just going to pay homage to the original anyway? Get rid of the gimmicks and this could have been a spectacular movie.

How?

Make Old Spock the unwitting villain.

The scene I refer to is, of course, the one where Spock says, “I’m not going to interfere, but … Khan is evil”.

Lame.

What if Khan wasn’t “evil”? What if, in this timeline, Khan actually is a good guy? And by meddling, Old Spock is actually the one who is guilty of violating the “Prime Directive”?

How interesting would THAT movie be? How much guilt would Old Spock have for going against everything he once stood for?

That’s the movie I want to see.

Perhaps in another timeline. Kirk out.

Respect.

Yesterday, I mentioned that I traveled to New Orleans. Well it was for training with four  co-workers, who were a good group. Or so I thought.

The trip went fine and we all split a cab to the airport. A buddy and I got our boarding passes early and headed through security, where I, per usual, opted for the pat down* instead of the machines. By the time I was cleared, the other members of the group had caught up and cruised through security.

Because we were early, we wandered up and down the whole terminal looking for a place to eat and eventually found one. Then, when we got to our gate, we saw some other co-workers from another office were also on our flight. So I was surrounded by about nine people who I had met before.

I mention these details because when, on the flight, I got up from my seat, a fellow passenger motioned to me and told me that someone had pulled the classic "sticker on your back" routine. It was a nametag with the culprit's name emblazoned on it.

When I exited the plane in our stopover location, I confronted the person, "How long? How long have I been wearing this thing?!"

"Since before security".

So the TSA agent who patted me down didn't mention it.
My co-workers from my office** didn't mention it.
Not a single person in the whole airport.
Nor my co-workers from another office.

Respect.


*Why turn down a free massage?
**To be fair, I respect that they didn't.

Nope, not dead yet.

My long time readers noticed that I hadn’t posted a single thing last week. This unprecedented event caused many of them* to wonder if I had died. Sorry to disappoint.

I am alive. Still clinging to life like a drier sheet to your pajama leg. But am I well?

Well … things have been busy at work. Or as some call it, “my day job”. This job has been both thrilling and exasperating. There have been late nights. There have been tears**. There was even a delightful trip to New Orleans in the middle of it all***. And it’s still busy.

But here’s the thing: In the middle of all of the deadlines and meetings, I made a decision. I may not be able to avoid working some nights and weekends, but I’m not going to let this job compromise my health.

So instead of mowing my lawn or writing blog posts, I hit the pool to swim laps before work. I run in the evenings. And when it’s nice out, forget it, I’m going to ride some bikes with friends because, let's face it, mental health is just as important as physical.

The girl next to me at work likes to say “YOLO”, which, of course, stands for “You Only Live Once.” Clearly, she’s not a big James Bond fan, but the sentiment is a good one.

YOLO, my dear readers. YOLO.

*Okay, one reader in passing.

**I assume.

***Lovely city. Worth checking out.

Wow.

One post this week. Not good. Not good at all.

I could blame work. We had a late night working on a presentation.

I could blame the nice weather. The first half of the week was gorgeous.

I could blame a lack of things to write about. But that's just an excuse lazy, boring people use.

I could blame my less than rigorous schedule this year. That might be part of it.

I could blame burn out. Locusts. Terrorism. May day. Entitlement. The Internet.

But I'm just going to come clean. I didn't make it a priority.

And for that, I apologize.

You deserve better.

Thank you for your time.

Shelf Life.

I have a lot of books. Some would say too many. There are times when I wonder if I'll ever read them all. Or, quite frankly, if I should.

Is envying the bedridden a bad sign?
Does longing for a minor ailment portend ominous intentions?
Is it bad to wile away a lazy afternoon in the company of dog eared pages instead of performing chores or talking to humans?

Probably.

After having to read 1600 pages a week in college, I've found that my tolerance for the verbose and the obtuse is waning. I am less forgiving. It used to be unthinkable not to finish a book. Now, if I find my attention wandering too often, it's off to another story or adventure.

I prefer modern over classic.
Short story collections over novels.
Adventure over enlightenment.

I tried to read Honey for the Bears by Anthony Burgess (of Clockwork Orange fame), but didn't care for the characters and lost interest. Amazing vocabulary though.

I'm currently reading The Fortress of Solitude by Jonathan Lethem. He's a phenomenal writer, but the story is a bit plodding and, well, it better pick up soon.

Also picked up David Sedaris's new collection of stories, Let's Discuss Diabetes with Owls, and, if you like his stuff, liked the first two stories. So there's that.

Oh yeah, also did the first two Insanity workouts. That has nothing to do with reading. Not directly. I just thought I'd share how I try to offset my sedentary tendencies.

Too easy.