Dylan Bolin

In a previous post, I addressed the issue of the proposed ban of the “R-Word.”  Since banning words is back on the table, I would like to nominate a phrase to put on the chopping block:  “…a dog in this fight.”

If you’ve never heard the phrase before, it is almost always said with a southern drawl, and it essentially means:  “Do you have an opinion?” as in:  “Little Bobby, for dinner your sister wants to go giggin’ for crawdads, but your mother wants to get dressed up and go to the buffet in the strip mall.  You got a dog in this fight?”

I hate this phrase the way that parents with special needs children hate the “R-Word.”

It is, of course, a reference to the despicable practice of dog fighting.  I am the owner of a rescue pit bull that, we think, was bred to fight, didn’t take to it, and was therefore thrown away and treated horribly.  Thankfully, she belonged to someone better than Michael Vick, and survived long enough to be rescued instead of, say, drowned, electrocuted or thrown to the ground until she was dead.  Yes, Michael Vick did all of these things.

Now maybe you’re one of those people (perhaps a football fan) who think:  “C’mon, Dylan, lighten up.  Michael Vick served his time.  Everybody deserves a second chance.”

No, not everybody does.  Sadists don’t.  Michael Vick’s was not a case of youthful indiscretion, temporary recklessness or a momentary lapse in judgment.  It was premeditated and cruel.  One of the female dogs that authorities found had had all of her teeth pulled out by pliers so she couldn’t bite her “handlers” or other dogs as she was strapped to the “rape stand.”  Whoopsie!

“But Dylan, it’s just a cultural thing.”

Then your culture is stupid.  But don’t worry, it’s not just your culture; most cultures have quite a bit of stupid in them.  That’s because the people that practiced the culture did so a long time ago when people were actually stupider than they are today.  Once upon a time, my culture burned outspoken women as witches, but you’ll never hear me defending it.

“But Dylan, they were just dogs.”

This might be what bothers me the most.  This is the absolute pinnacle of human arrogance:  The fact that anything not human is “less than.”  If you are allowed to think that, then I am allowed to consider you “less than.”  Inhumane is inhuman.  Michael Vick and people like him are dragging down the spiritual evolution of our species. 

“But Dylan, Michael Vick apologized.”

Yeah, because he got caught.  One day he, like all of us, will return to the Universal Consciousness from which we sprung; the place to which he also painfully and fearfully sent several of God’s creatures for no other reason than his entertainment.  His money, fame and smirking conceit will be useless, as will his apologies. 

As long as there are Michael Vicks, there will be the need for the enlightened and good-hearted to clean up their messes.  Please visit the website of the Brew City Bully Club, or a similar program in your area.

-Dylan

Needless to say, this is a touchy subject so I am going to tread lightly.

The smoldering offence that many take at the utterance of this word erupted into a full-fledged firestorm when White House Chief of Staff Rahm Emanuel used the “R-Word” (in conjunction with another offensive word) to indicate his frustration with certain liberal special-interest groups that were threatening to run ads against conservative Democrats.  He was in no way referring to those with special needs.

Nevertheless, Sarah Palin, whose son Trig was born with Down syndrome, demanded that Mr. Emanuel be immediately fired.  Later, when Rush Limbaugh directed the very same “R-Word” at the very same liberal special-interest groups, Sarah Palin wrote it off as “satire.”  I mention this only because I think it did a great disservice to those with a strong opinion about the “R-Word” by turning it into a political football.  

To my knowledge, this exchange is what introduced the “R-Word” into our vernacular as a word.  I also recently received an email directing me to an on-line petition advocating the removal of the “R-Word” (what it represents; not “R-Word” itself) from our speech.

I’ll come clean here:  In the past, I have used the “R-Word” in a cavalier manner.  If I recall correctly, it was almost always in the context of a ridiculous or absurd situation, and I can say beyond any shadow of a doubt that I have NEVER used it in reference to someone with special needs.  (If you would like to know more about my personal feelings about those with special needs, please reference this post regarding those on the autistic spectrum).

I’m also certain that those with children with special needs do not consider their children “R-Word.”  So, if all of us agree that the “R-Word” is NOT referring to someone with special needs, I’m confused as to why the “R-Word” carries the weight that it does.  I mean, without intent or context, can a word, by itself, wield that sort of power?  And if someone does use the “R-Word” with mean or malicious intent, is the banning of the “R-Word” likely to change them?

I’ve heard some compare the “R-Word” to the “N-Word,” but, again, I go back to context and intent.  The “N-Word” can ONLY be used in reference to another person.  By contrast, the “R-Word” is almost NEVER used (at least by anyone I know) to refer to those whom it is purported to offend.

I have a question, and it is an earnest question; I’m not trying to be cheeky or glib:  If one were to use the word “moron” to refer to someone with special needs, wouldn’t it be just as deplorable as if they had used the “R-Word?”  And if so, does that mean that the word “moron,” even when NOT directed at someone with special needs, is just as offensive as the “R-Word?”  In other words, should we ban the “M-Word?” 

What about “doofus,” “dimwit,” “dunce,” “knucklehead,” “cretin” or “half-wit?” 

I’m sure at some point, all of those words have been used, insensitively and ignorantly, to refer to someone with special needs, but let’s face it, the sentence:  “Those knuckleheads at the Drive-Thru messed up my order again,” probably wouldn’t be considered insensitive or profane.

Is there a line?  And if so, where is it?  I promise you, my intention in writing this is not to be insensitive; I just want to know the rules, and the process by which those rules came to be.  It seems to me that ignorance is the real issue, and ignorance is absolutely worth banning by way of information, and if this post is in any way ignorant to anyone’s feelings, I would like to know that. 

Personally, I think anyone that would refer to those with special needs as “R-Word” is just the worst kind of person.  That being said, I also feel very strongly about the banning of anything; books, music, opinions and even words.

In the interest of fairness, if you think the “R-Word” should be banned, you can sign the petition here.

If you have a strong opinion about this matter, I urge you to post your comment/experience so that this can be a forum of enlightenment and forthright dialogue.

Thank you,

Dylan

“Nature is cruel, but we don’t have to be.”  –Temple Grandin

I was recently blown away by the new HBO movie Temple Grandin, the biopic of the woman by the same name.  The film illustrates Ms. Grandin’s (Claire Danes) struggle and perseverance with autism in the face of ridicule and isolation during a time when autism was less understood than it is today.  Aided by the quiet, unwavering strength and dignity of her mother (Julia Ormond) and an empathetic science teacher and mentor (David Strathairn), Ms. Grandin became Dr. Grandin, professor of Animal Science at Colorado State University, advocate for the humane treatment of livestock and noted speaker in the field of autism and Asperger Syndrome.  Nearly half of the slaughterhouses running today in North America use Dr. Grandin’s design.  “We raise them for us,” she says, “that means we owe them our respect.”

In the history of film, we have enjoyed many incredible and poignant portrayals by actors, and I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that Claire Danes’ portrayal of Temple Grandin should be included near the top.  Her transformation was riveting and complete; heartfelt, respectful and imbued by pathos that was as devastating as the catharsis was uplifting. 

For many years, I’ve had a theory about disorders like autism and Asperger’s.  I’ve kept the theory to myself, writing it off as science fiction, but watching this film seemed to validate these thoughts.  In a nutshell, the theory is this:  What if autism and Asperger’s aren’t disorders at all, but, in reality, the first steps onto a new, human evolutionary path?  The exact opposite of a “disorder;” a “hyperorder” perhaps.

Even if you don’t believe in Evolution (with the capital “E”), you can still acknowledge that our bodies and brains evolve (small “e”) and adapt to accommodate the world in which we live.

Rarely do we recognize genius in our time.  It almost always appears in the rear-view mirror as we contemplate the road that delivered us to any given place.

In the interest of fairness, my wife and I are not parents, let alone parents of a child with autism or Asperger’s, so you would be well within your rights to say that I’m naïve, but it seems to me that the “disorders” exhibited by those with autism and Asperger’s are more cosmetic and social than they are indicative of any kind of deficiency.  In the words of Temple Grandin’s mother:  “Different, but not less.” 

For instance, to an autistic child, the world is a very loud, confusing avalanche of stimuli.  I’d say that’s an accurate assessment.  Of course, as “normal” people, we accept it, ignore it or filter it.  But is it “normal?”  We may not rock or spin, but we do tune it out; albeit in more socially acceptable ways.

Autistic children lack a “normal” grasp of language, and, instead, see the world as a series of images and pictures.  There is a Chinese proverb that says:  “One picture is worth ten thousand words.”  To “normal” people, this is quaint and romantic; to a child with autism, it is quite literal.  And is it a great stretch to say that our vernacular is slowly becoming a series of images?  As anyone with a Twitter account knows, the rules of communication are morphing and contracting every day.  To many, a text message can be as foreign as a series of Egyptian hieroglyphs, but to others, it is succinct and efficient.  According to the “rules” of blogging, I’ve already gone on too long for today’s abbreviated attention spans, and I thank you for staying with me this far.  But which should we consider “normal?”

My intent is not to whitewash the challenges faced by children with autism or Asperger’s and those of the parents who love them.  Rather, just as those with autism or Asperger’s experience a “different but not less” perspective, perhaps “normal” could do with a different perspective of that which we consider “disorder.”  As the film Temple Grandin (and Dr. Grandin herself) has shown, often times, in “disorder” there is genius.

-Dylan

I have a confession to make, and after 40 years of drawing breath on this planet, I think I’m ready to come clean.  I am a liberal.  There, I said it.  I’m prepared to face the repercussions. 

I decided that I am a liberal when I looked up the definition of the word and found this:

Liberal (adj):
1. favorable to progress or reform, as in political or religious affairs.
2. (often initial capital letter) noting or pertaining to a political party advocating measures of progressive political reform.
3. of, pertaining to, based on, or advocating liberalism.
4. favorable to or in accord with concepts of maximum individual freedom possible, esp. as guaranteed by law and secured by governmental protection of civil liberties.
5. favoring or permitting freedom of action, esp. with respect to matters of personal belief or expression: a liberal policy toward dissident artists and writers. 
6. of or pertaining to representational forms of government rather than aristocracies and monarchies.
7. free from prejudice or bigotry; tolerant: a liberal attitude toward foreigners. 
8. open-minded or tolerant, esp. free of or not bound by traditional or conventional ideas, values, etc.
9. characterized by generosity and willingness to give in large amounts: a liberal donor. 
10. given freely or abundantly; generous: a liberal donation. 
11. not strict or rigorous; free; not literal: a liberal interpretation of a rule. 
12. of, pertaining to, or based on the liberal arts.
13. of, pertaining to, or befitting a freeman.

This is the established, traditional definition of “liberal” so you might even call it a conservative definition.  Or so I thought.  Turns out the Conservative definition of “Liberal” is as follows:

Liberal (Noun) (profanity):
1. valueless individual, Hell-bent on the destruction of our Republic.
2. of or pertaining to hating Freedom.
3. God-hating Hippie bastard.
4. hates Government or loves Government; whichever is the opposite of what is right.
5. treasonous, flag-burning, arugula-eating, know-it-all so-and-so.
6. lover of taxes, Europe and N.P.R.
7. can’t have enough abortions; would hand out two-for-one coupons if possible.
8. unpatriotic, non-supporter of troops.
9. trust-busting, monopoly-fearing and Free Market-destroying; anti-business.
10. tree hugging espouser of Climate Change; anti-business.
11. wants to kill old people with socialized health care; anti-business.
12. hates marriage; refuses to acknowledge the “Gay Agenda.”
13. believes in the need for Public Schools despite the copious number of poor people contained therein.

Synonyms:  “Leftist,” “Lefty,” “Lib,” “Socialist,” “Marxist,” “Bolshevik,” “‘Bout to Get His Ass Kicked by Toby Keith.”

I guess if you control the language, you control the debate.  I’m going with the first definition.  And let the healing begin.

-Dylan

I don’t know about you, but I love Irish Cream.  This time of year, I add it to nearly every liquid I ingest.  What follows is the greatest recipe for home-made Irish Cream that I have ever known:

Add the following to a blender in this order:

1 cup bourbon or whiskey (this recipe works best with “Windsor Canadian Whiskey”)

3 whole eggs

¼ tsp (teaspoon) coconut extract

1½ cups whipping cream

1½ Tbs (Tablespoon) chocolate syrup

1 can (14oz) Eagle Sweetened Condensed Milk

Blend for 1 minute, refrigerate and enjoy.

Before you enjoy, do me a favor:  This recipe was passed down from a man by the name of Tommy Pietrzak.  Tommy was one of the kindest, gentlest, coolest guys ever to walk the Earth.  Before you take your first of many, many sips, give a little toast to Tommy; he’ll hear it.  And if you pass this recipe on, please include these final instructions.

Here’s to you, Tommy, and God bless us, everyone.

-Dylan

*This is dedicated to the hygienist and Dr. Taito, DDS who were worried that I might use this experience in one of my “bits.”  I am.

First, some exposition:  For over a month I’ve had a wicked pain on the left side of my head.  Various doctors have prescribed antibiotics and pain killers to temporary results, but the pain always returned.  Then I thought the source of the pain might be an un-erupted wisdom tooth that, by laying low, avoided the fate of the other three which, after they were pulled, I turned into buttons for a rather Gothic cardigan. 

That suspicion took me to my wife’s dentist.  In a matter of moments he diagnosed the pain that had plagued me for weeks.  “Well, I don’t think it’s the wisdom tooth,” he said, “I think the problem is that you have an enormous cavity in that tooth right there.”  He pointed to the X-ray and a convex area of black among my mouth’s ghostly white, picket fence.  It was tooth #19; the “Robin Yount Tooth.”  He knelt down beside the chair.  “I think this is going to require a root canal.” 

My first cavity ever, and it required a root canal.

Now if you’re anything like me, just the term “root canal” is enough to make you break into a cold sweat.  I know it does me, despite the fact that I’ve never had one.  I considered asking if for another option like perhaps two .38 slugs to the back of the head, but the doctor assured me that he knew a great Endodontist (root canal specialist).

Two days later and one day before the most celebrated mouth holiday there is, I was to receive a root canal.

Here’s what it would look like if my mouth was a cartoon:

Anyway, on the day of the big procedure, I shaved my body smooth, and anointed it with goat’s milk and Lavender.  Then, I kissed my wife goodbye and drove to Dr. Taito’s office singing I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing by Aerosmith.

When I arrived at the office, I checked in at reception.  I gave them my name and the staff became very furtive, like they were trying to get a look at me without looking like they were looking.  I felt a bit like Harry Potter when he first arrived at Hogwarts. 

Later, talking to the hygienist, I learned that some of the staff knew my name from WKLH and wondered if I was the same guy.  This is actually pretty common when people put a face to a radio voice.  (The strangest comment I ever received was:  “I thought you would be blond.”  How do you sound blond?)

When Dr. Taito came in, he informed me that he had done a Google search on me, and he seemed impressed by my prolific on-line presence.  Now, you’d think this would be a good thing, being recognized and all, but I immediately thought:  “Crap.  Now I can’t be a wuss.”

I mean, who wants to later be a character in the doctor’s story:

“So get this.  You know that Dylan guy from WKLH?”

“Yeah?”

“Total wimp.  Cried like a kitten.  We ran out of Novocaine; had to borrow more from another office.”

So every time they asked me if I was okay, I tried to wink like John Wayne…despite the fact that it would cause a single tear to roll into my ear.

Anyway, turns out that Dr. Taito and Advanced Dental Specialists are pretty incredible.  His chair-side manner was a lot like I imagine Oprah’s Dr. Oz.

So I’m finally on the mend.  For the first time in weeks, and on Thanksgiving Eve, I couldn’t be more thankful that I’m now pain-free.  Of course that could be because of the meds.  But I prefer to think that it’s because I’m spooning a unicorn in a chocolate hammock.

Did you know unicorns could purr?  Me neither.

-Dylan

As mentioned in an earlier post, I’m something of a word nerd, which is why I was a little confused when I came across a colonial recipe for Thanksgiving turkey in a coffee table book.  It said:

“Behead the foul ‘ere you pluck a feather…”

Now, I had heard the term “behead” before, but, for some reason, reading it, it struck me as strange.  I couldn’t put my finger on why for the longest time, and then I saw a commercial for the BeDazzler, the item that will make a plain old denim jacket look like a fishing lure for just $19.95.

Surely the prefix “be-” couldn’t be correct for both, could it?  It’s commonly accepted that to behead something means to remove its head, yet in the case of the BeDazzler it means to add…dazzle.  So I looked it up and, sure enough, the prefix “be-” means: 

“1.  Completely; thoroughly; excessively.  Used as an intensive:  Bemuse”

By this definition, to behead a turkey would mean a) to make sure the turkey has plenty of heads, or b) to kill it via several sharp head butts, which, let’s face it, would be a hilarious way to kill a turkey.

But if “behead” does mean “to remove the head,” what happens to someone who is “beloved?”  Do you remove their love?  Are all those Valentine’s Day cards really meant as aggressive threats?

So I say we “dehead” our turkeys, and by all means DeDazzle your denim jacket; for God’s sake, you look like a Lumberjack Disco Ball.

-Dylan

They’re heeeeere!

Folks, I don’t want to cause a panic, despite how good it is for readership, but the invasive Asian Carp is making its way north and threatens to destroy the delicate Great Lakes ecosystem.  As you know, destroying ecosystems is our job, and this latest invasion is another example of irresponsible outsourcing to Asia.

You, like me, have probably heard of the Asian Carp but didn’t know much about it.  When we say “Asian Carp,” we’re referring to a couple species in particular:  The Silver Carp and the Bighead Carp.  What makes these fish so dangerous?  They are voracious eaters, occasionally reaching upwards of 100lbs.  They are also insatiable breeders.  The concern is that they will force out the Great Lakes’ native fish.  But with the Silver Carp, there is another worry:  When agitated by boat motors, they tend to leap out of the water like cannon balls, bludgeoning boaters and other maritime enthusiasts like Carp-A-Kazis.

In order to prevent the wiley carp from entering the Great Lakes, the Army Corps of Engineers built a $9 Million electric fish barrier on the Chicago Sanitary and Ship Canal.  Well, it seems that the barrier has been breached.  How?  Based on some exhaustive research on my part, I’ve determined that the carp have been engaging in some “engineering” of their own; specifically “human engineering.”

I should warn you:  What follows may not be suitable for young readers! 

A Bighead Carp seducing an Army Corps Engineer (Photo courtesy of fishingfury.com)

That’s right, folks, despite our love for our Great Lakes, it can’t compete with our love for the perfect figure:  12-65-12.  Later, as the guard slumbered, the fish, along with several of its school, crept past the barrier and continued on to Lake Michigan.

God help us all.

-Dylan

I’m a word nerd.  You might say I’m “a Werd.”  Then again, if you said that, people would probably assume that you were saying “word,” and just be confused.

That’s how I know that the New Oxford American Dictionary has recently unveiled their 2009 Word of the Year.  Oxford Dictionary doesn’t reveal the process by which it’s chosen.  The highly-secretive, Mason-esque event occurs behind closed doors, and the results are only known when white smoke is released and two people at a sidewalk cafe request a different table.

Maybe you know the winning word, but if you don’t, let’s play a little game:  I’ll list the word and a definition with 4 of the other nominees and you see if you can guess.  Ready?

“Unfriend”-to remove someone as a ‘friend’ on a social networking site such as Facebook.  I prefer “Unface.”  It implies some real conflict and and the chance of violence.

“Tramp Stamp”– a tattoo on the lower back, usually on a woman.  And trust me, ladies, it only gets sexier when you’re 40.

“Choice Mom”– a person who chooses to be a single mother.  Or chooses to get a Tramp Stamp at 40. 

“Death Panel”-a theoretical body that determines which patients deserve to live, when care is rationed.  I love this idea!  Please see:  “To the Sponsors of the Heath Reform Bill”

“Intexticated”-distracted because texting on a cellphone while driving a vehicle.  Okay, now they’re just making up Sniglets.

And the winner is:                Unfriend

They’ve already begun updating our culture.  Instead of “‘Til Death do us part,” wedding officiants are instructed to say:  “‘Til Life unfriends you.”  In the literary classic Lord of the Flies, Piggy is now “unfriended” by the boulder.  And Ken Burns has been ordered to alter the voice over in his highly-acclaimed P.B.S. series, The Civil War  to include the new word.  From now on, the Civil War is referred to as:  “A Nation Unfriended.”

Sadly, spell check has yet to catch up to this newest trend.

So welcome to the lexicon, “unfriend,” and may we be “unfriends” forever!

-Dylan

A lot has been made lately of the 20th Anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall. 

But never let us forget the fateful day that oppression planted the seeds of future freedom.  Let us also celebrate August 13th, 1961.  That is the day the border was closed…and just 12 days after, Six Flags opened in Texas.

And what a wall!  From a humble wire fence at the beginning, to the Stützwandelement in 1975.  A masterpiece of wall technology, the Stützwandelement was constructed from 45,000 separate sections of reinforced concrete, each 12 ft high and 4 ft wide, and cost $3,638,000 U.S.  The top of the wall was lined with a smoothpipe, intended to make it more difficult to scale.  It was reinforced by mesh fencing, signal fencing, anti-vehicle trenches, barbed wire, dogs on long lines, beds of nails under balconies (the “death strip”), over 116 watchtowers and 20 bunkers.

Now that’s a f@#%ing wall!

So while we celebrate the day that Ronald Reagan ordered and David Hasselhoff delivered, let us never forget the day that made it all possible, August 13th, 1961, Oppression Day.

Raise a glass to oppression that we may later be free!

-Dylan