Coming Soon: Facebook Murders!

Any day now, someone’s gonna beat a murder rap with a groan-inducing, precedent-setting “Facebook defense.”

How long until someone founds Facebook Anonymous, where folks 12-step their way to freedom from Facebook – anonymously? I can see it now: FA, a program dedicated to anonymously relieving you of your inability to live unidentified. Of course Step 1 is admitting you’re powerless over Facebook, that you’d rather spend 127 hours hacking at your own arm with a dull blade than disconnect from feeling “a part of…” Bet on it. It’s a joke now, but it won’t be for long. Read more

A Word to the Wide

We can fail repeatedly, but we aren’t failures until we blame someone else.

Source: Chicago Sun Times

By Martin Kessman’s own admission, the 290-pounder refuses to enter his favorite fast food feeder, White Castle, requiring his wife to retrieve his preferred meals for him. An embarrassed Kessman wouldn’t set foot in the restaurant after his repeated attempts to wrestle himself into booth-style seating succeeded only in entertaining and disturbing other diners. Read more

“Kids for Cash” Judge vs. Parents

Hurt parents’ barbs and bitch-outs cut much deeper than their backhands. So let’s send the judge who got rich sentencing juveniles to his friends’ privately-owned jails into a “hostility cage” with victims’ families.

Michael J. Mullen / Associated Press
Source: CNN

The unedited footage of Sandy Fonzo screaming at former Luzerne County judge Mark Ciavarella is powerful. My own fists were clenched by the end of it: I can only imagine the fury that 370 similarly outraged mothers and fathers would produce. Sandy Fonzo is a woman both desperate to be heard and desperately angry. Though I do not know her, I root for her. Her son’s suicide may have ultimately been his responsibility, but it stemmed from an inability to recover from what happened to him in custody. I’ve seen that trauma up close and the behavioral issues that often follow. Had that been my kid, I don’t think I’d have been satisfied with a verbal confrontation. Read more

I Left My Heart in Folsom Prison

To the parolee caught trying sneak back into Folsom Prison: Next time just try the souvenir shop.

Original Story: MSNBC
Hand-built by inmates and Chinese railroad workers, this view of the granite wall that surrounds Folsom's old yard is from the main access road

The so-called “old Yard” was one of the facilities to which I was assigned as a temporary “consumer of Corrections services.” Years after my release, while driving with my then-girlfriend to Lake Tahoe for a wedding, I turned onto the prison road. I wanted to see that giant wall as an outsider, a perspectiv­e I didn’t have in my previous experience on the property. Read more

8-year-old Designated Driver = Epic Win

What? It’s not like you have to pay ’em, right?

Source: KATC Lafayette News

If I had an eight-year-old son to use as a designated driver, whether for making it home before the wife does or for a balls-out run across state lines, I’d at least give the kid a fake mustache, a funny hat, or even an eyepatch to wear. If the police are gonna find me passed out drunk in the front seat with my child at the wheel, I’d sure rather get a wake-up jab from a cop trying not to laugh than by a trooper so angry he tazes me in the ear. I mean, I’d even try writing something like, “Proud Son of a Probation Dad” on the kid’s forehead. Anything’s better than letting a mug shot like this one do all the talking. Read more

Ryan Dunn Agreed to All that Follows

When Jackass celebrity Ryan Dunn drove his Porsche at speeds above 132 mph, as a public figure he left himself and his actions open to the interpretations of others – millions of others: famous others, fringe others, and others in the news. Everybody. So while few are surprised that Dunn’s toxicology report confirms he was driving while
shit-faced, we should also take it as a given that celebrity man-children will throw their tantrums over comments made about Dunn’s accountability (or lack thereof). Read more

Confusing Idiocy with Accomplishment (and Privilege with Appeal)

Everyday examples of fame-for-stupidity send the message that kids and teens needn’t worry about genuine achievement.


I know a mom who makes her four-year-old twins dance and sing along to PlayStation SingStar every day, seven days a week.
She coaches and stands guard until their session is over; no one is allowed to leave or engage in another activity.Her latest husband is even worse, prodding the twins to explain why Willow Smith is their hero. Just glimpsing these kids being paraded around in wigs and heels is about all my brain can process without punching someone. Read more

Notes From a Non-Parent

Notes from a Non-Parent™

Teaching Respect By Example: Avoid Bigoted Outbursts While Driving with Children or you might end up with an Alexandra Wallace


Original Story: Slate

With its repulsive insensitivity for Japan’s tragedy and its ignorant, racist views, Sheen goddess lookalike and privileged UCLA princess Alexandra Wallace’s YouTube mimicry of Asian students has resulted in condemnation, editorial skewering and death threats. Considering the young poly-sci student is now saying she doesn’t even know why she did it, parents take note…A Daily Bruin opinion piece sums up Wallace’s immediate future:

When this ordeal is over, Wallace is almost certainly more likely to remember the death threats and personal attacks than feel any real empathy for – or have any real understanding of – people with different social identities. The violent and abusive reactions will simply make her scared, defensive, and even more unwilling to engage in dialogue with the people she offended.

This isn’t just Alexandra’s future, it’s ours too if we can’t teach our children acceptance rather than mere tolerance. Tolerance is a droopy word, too routinely thrown around. Tolerance has become the consolation prize of a politically correct “multiculturalism.” Acceptance, on the other hand, forces us to leave our comfort zones, and that builds character.  It’s what we should strive for. But since lecturing isn’t my strong suit – I prefer skinning a carcass ‘til its guts pour out on your shoes – let me give a personal example of where an otherwise good parent can go a little off the rails here.

When I was growing up, my friends and I parroted opinions and remarks we picked up from our folks in the car. That particular crucible was where Asians turned into “boat people” (mainly Vietnamese refugees back then) and homeless people were “bums” or “bag ladies.” There were others, but you get the point. And I doubt much has changed; certainly driving isn’t less hectic these days. Most people behind the wheel lose it occasionally, even usually mellow people: situations over which we have little control don’t typically bring out the best in us. My own dad was no powerlifting steroid abuser, but I sure am thankful You Tube and cell phone cameras didn’t exist during family vacations. Or trips to the store. Or to and from school, grandma’s house, baseball practice, or church. (At least you wouldn’t have heard racist crap from my Mexican-American household, though I do recall something about, “the last thing that woman drove was a goddamned ox.”)

I’m not sayin’ we should all drink chamomile tea and listen to soothing whale sounds when we drive; I’m not even advocating limiting comments when kids are in the car. I am suggesting parents think before spouting off, perhaps freely carping about the idiocy of running a stop sign instead of focusing on the ethnicity of the offending driver. And if they do let their own, er, true feelings out in the heat of the moment, later opportunities should be sought to talk about that with Susie Big Ears in the back. Not doing so sends a message – and it ain’t one of acceptance.

Given that what many parents either impose on or allow their kids to have eventually becomes an undesirable adult trait, such as entitlement or being overly managed to the point of a you-name-it anxiety disorder, not using these moments to teach children to effectively manage their stress is a bad idea, as Alexandra Wallace demonstrates. (Now please humor me while I repeat this with a special patois for my fellow aging punk rock friends who are parents: This shit evolves! Don’t let ‘em sidestep punishments because you’re afraid to be seen as the bad guy! Don’t be a chickenshit and slack off when it comes to consequences! Follow through on penalties and praise or you’ll just generate another asshole like the one you work with who doesn’t think rules apply to him or her.)

Maybe Alexandra grew up hearing “University of Caucasians Lost among Asians,” which I first heard back in high school (during the later ‘90s the amusingly opposing, “Ugly Caucasians, Lovely Asians” became popular, though I still love “Under Construction Like Always”). She was certainly blindsided by the negative publicity her “manners” lesson garnered, which suggests that the belief racial slurs are okay as long as they’re “all in good fun” was also learned at home. Or in the car. Railing against gabby Asians in the library isn’t all that different from angrily reacting to being cut off in traffic; the cause-response mechanism is the same. And just look where it can lead:

P.S. And kids? DUH! Aren’t you supposed to be the tech-savvy generation? Don’t you know there’s always a camera waiting to put your dumbest acts on the Internet? Guess what, Madison and Dexter…tattooing your foreheads with “Tsunami’s Rock” will get you farther in life. ‘Cause sometimes, fame just shows you’re a lame.