my careless contagion

Lately, I listened to some old CDs I used to have. Actually, listened on YouTube. I don't know if I still have them. But one was the Cable Guy soundtrack (they gave them away), as well as the Surge CD. Actually, the Surge CD was two CDs; you were supposed to give one to your friend. Remember the ill-fated soda Surge? They tried to promote it with alternative music. The CDs are still out there. If you search eBay, you can find them for as much as $75. I own two because I didn't have any friends. Oh, and Millennium Hip Hop Party, a collection of 90s hip hop, for, well, partying, which was always a hit (go figure) at the few parties we hosted. These albums are time capsules from a better, more interesting time, about 25 years ago. Speaking of old music ... It's time for my semi-annual posting of One More Day by the Descendents (whom I saw perform in Philadelphia many years ago). This is my Father's Day post. In case it isn't abundantly clear, my father was not a good f...

  Recipe for Hate by Bad Religion was released in 1993. It is yet another prophetic Bad Religion song (and album of the same name), revealing almost 30 years ago that hate is an engineered product, a product we now see every day in the United States. You can say it is just #2020goals, but these elements conspired for decades to fracture and destroy our society. Bad Religion was oft derided for taking things too seriously, but no one is laughing now. They saw what was coming and warned you, and you did nothing. Before I start, there are some interesting things about this album I will mention. Of course, the album is guitar-driven, though it was undoubtedly composed on both piano and guitar. But, believe it or not, this album has some country influences (which makes sense because country is a cousin to folk music, of which I consider hardcore directly related). Johnette Napolitano of Concrete Blonde sang on it, which is odd. You don't hear a woman's vocals on Bad Religion songs...

I have thought a lot about divorce over the past several years. I have wrestled with the concept, actually. I hate divorce, though, concerning my divorce, I felt I had no other recourse. It's like cutting off your leg to save your life. This blog was deployed to help me navigate my divorce, yet I didn't write much about it. My suffering was too much, too deep, and too personal to share. But am I destined to hobble about the rest of my life?  I sought my God heavily before, during, and after my divorce. Malachi 2 :16 seems a straightforward verse concerning divorce, though this article caused me to rethink that. In fact, this article was about the closest I've come to how my conversations with God went before, during, and after my divorce. I felt God accepted my reasoning and desire to end my marriage and consented to it. I felt released from my marriage for Biblical reasons. I never felt judged or that I was wrong. But that didn't stop the carnage in my soul — t...

Oh, the sanctity of fatherhood, the grandest of manly accomplishments. It's more than just the creation of life, of joining egg and sperm. It's a spiritual journey of sorts and a proclamation of manhood. While many more dollars extol the sacredness of motherhood on Mother's Day, not much is made of Father's Day. What gives? Well, maybe it's because most of us have dads who suck. Why celebrate that shit? I hate my father. I have many reasons. Shall we? My father has no idea who I am. After 41 years, he has no fucking clue. How does a man watch his son grow up (okay, maybe he wasn't around) and not know who he is, what he is made of, his strengths and weaknesses, or anything for that matter? And how am I always wrong, no matter what I say? I'm 41 years old and you're still correcting me? And you wonder why I am silent? When my father learned I was to become a father, his words of wisdom to me were: "Maybe now you'll get your shit togeth...

Some people seem effortless, the way they get through life, but life is hard for a lot of people. I know a way to make it easier.  I once worked with a girl (let's call her Shelby) who would talk disparagingly of another girl we worked with (who we'll call Shayna). Shayna was a little slow. She went to an alternative school. I got the feeling there was some sort of abuse or at least neglect (which is the same as abuse, really) at home. She loved her boyfriend. She smoked pot sometimes. This was a girl who should definitely not smoke pot, as she didn't have enough brain cells to go around as it was. She told awful, not-funny stories and would laugh like they were funny. Shelby said Shayna was a "herp derp" or just "herp." Sometimes just "derp," "derpy," or some derivative of the same nonsense. Yeah, she wasn't very nice to Shayna.  Shayna loved Shelby. No, not that kind of love. But, she certainly followed her around a bit ...