Plastic Wingie Balls and Hardcore Freaks

Moving on from yesterday's history of bike handplants to something even more Xtreme (please read with Randy "Macho Man" Savage inflection "Extreeeeme!"), Erica and I happened upon these crazy-arsed inflatable wingie balls in Golden Gate Park yesterday:



Are you fuckin' kidding me? Why didn't they have this shit when I was a kid? This is the kind of crap that makes a guy a bitter old man. I didn't have to walk uphill both ways in the snow, but I damn well didn't get to roll around in no gall durn inflatable wingie ball made out of space age polymers. If you're dazzled by their majesty like I was, maybe you can stomach the somewhat boring footage as Erica and I both marvel at their existence and postulate diabolical plans to use them for evil. I want to get one and bomb down hills in the park on hot, sunny days, annihilating sunbathers, picnickers, and hapless children alike! I'll show you bastards for not inventing this 30 fuckin' years ago! Who's responsible for this travesty of playtime? Where was NASA? As an inveterate punk rocker, I think I'm going to have to blame Reagan for ruining my childhood.

Well, I guess it's not all a wash. Here I am, chilling with my lady at Java Beach on Sloat, drinking cheap beer and talking about the sheer enormity of my head



Livin' the lifestyle, ya'll. Hopefully I'll be able to turn that lifestyle into a life, but you know, if not, being a rambling crazy fuck on the street won't be too bad. For now, I'm content to be a rambling crazy fuck on the interweb.



And, speaking of rambling crazies, check this car I saw up the street the other day:



Here we have the logo of the 7th Cavalry, sabre drawn. Started as Indian killers in Kansas in 1866, they went on to get their asses handed to them, along with their scalps, by the Lakota and Cheyenne at the Battle of Little Big Horn. I'm sure they've gone on to do many honorable things since then, however: blessing one's enemy among them. Really though--wouldn't the best way to bless one's enemy involve not killing them? I suppose you could take it back to the Bhagavad Gita, where Arjuna bums out on going to war until Krishna sets him straight:

"On the first day of the war Krishna drove the chariot between the two armies. Arjuna saw his grandfather, his teacher, his friends and relatives in the Kaurava army. And he thought, 'Should I kill all these just to gain the kingdom?' He sank into his seat. He perspired, His famous bow, the Gandeeva, slipped from his hands. "No, Krishna, let us not fight," he said, 'Bhishma is my grandfather. Drona is my revered Guru. Ashwatthama is my good friend. How can I kill them ? And what do I gain by killing them?'

Krishna said, 'Arjuna, such words are not worthy of a hero like you. Your duty is to fight. Those who have joined the forces against justice and righteousness have to perish. The good must be protected. Attachment to friends and relatives should not come in the way of your duty.'"

Basically, we like the think of Hindus as calm, mellow types, but what Krishna is saying is, "Go ahead--be dick. You are righteous; they are not. You deserve to live and prosper; they deserve to die under the wheels of your chariot." And this is where I'm stuck, in terms of dude's bumper sticker. If it's your duty to eviscerate your enemy, who is, of course, quite other from you with quite different beliefs, do you have to bless them first? Isn't this adding insult to injury? Cutting someone in half with a .50 caliber sniper rifle and while saying "Bon Voyage." Seems to be more honest to just kill them and not offer a parting gift from a religion they don't believe in. Who knows? I'm probably wrong. Maybe blessing your enemy is a sign of respect, like touching gloves in the boxing ring. Somehow I don't think it's what Jesus had in mind with the whole "love thy enemy" bit.

Then again, the driver of this car is not a normal guy. He's a freak:



So it's back to the same old shit. The Muslims get lathered into a jihadi froth to rid the world of infidels, while the Christians go on crusade, adding an extra veneer of smarm by blessing those they murder. I'm not really seeing a whole lot of difference between the flavors here, folks. I like chocolate, you like vanilla. You shall die for this indiscretion, unbeliever.This is where you get stuff like Trijicon Inc adding bible quotes to military gunsights. Have a Coke and a smile, Hadji, and a parting gift of righteous American salvation with your .223 round. I suppose it's no different than inscribing your scimitar with a Koran verse. (Or Mark 3:16 on the bottom of a In N Out cup.)

Apparently, for all dude's freaky Jesusness, he doesn't really take Jesus to heart. "Turn the other cheek so I can get a better aim."