I lift things up and put them down

Posted on January 21, 2013 by Max T Kramer

I work out. I don’t enjoy it. The fluorescent lights in the gym hurt my eyes, naked old dudes with pendulous nads are always hanging out for unecessarily long periods of time in the locker room, the Indian guy on the elliptical with the curry-sweats never wears deodorant, and there’s usually some Arnold Schwarzenegger looking mother-licker staring at himself in front of the wall mirror. (It’s me.)

While I don’t enjoy the act of working out, I do enjoy the result. A few minutes of sweaty discomfort a couple of times a week is a worthwhile trade off for the strength, speed, and agility to do…anything. Forced to wrestle a Kodiak bear? Alright. Have to push a school bus out of Quechee Gorge? Okay. Need to run from a horde of ravenous zombies? Bring it on. I did six squats and a pull-up last wednesday. I’m fucking invincible. Looking good for the biddies isn’t a bad thing either.

I’ll admit, for somebody who doesn’t necessarily enjoy working out, I’ve always been pretty consistent with it. In my glorious youth it helped that I played sports constantly, so even on my down time I’d be training hard to prepare for the following season. Between the ages of 8 and 18 I devoted myself to football and track. In college I boxed, and after college I got paid to rock climb for a period of time. In order to succeed at the above mentioned activities, a certain level of studliness needs to be maintained. Now however I just get paid to sit in a cubicle and cry as my spine liquifies and my dreams quietly pass away. The peak of my daily physical exertions would probably be my 2pm dump, but I still go to the gym on my lunch breaks. There’s no real reason anymore, it’s just habit.

I blame my mother. The woman is a monster. A healthy, healthy monster. Seriously. The woman works at a health food store part time, because she LIKES it. She goes to like six different gyms. Growing up, she cooked us only the blandest, most nutritious of foods. Salt was a taboo 4-letter curse word worse than fuck. On halloween, when my twin sister and I went trick-or-treating, our devil mother would call ahead to make sure our neighbors would only give us healthy “treats”. Halloween loses some of its luster when all you bring home is a pillowcase full of apples, raisins, and peanutbutter crackers. I’m 27 and i’ve yet to eat a birthday cake. My twin and I got to blow out candles on bran muffins instead. One year the muffin had raisins in it and I was so overwhelmed I cried. Mistress wonders why I take no real pleasure in eating, and treat my meals like a necessary inconvenience, similar to filling up a car with gas. It’s because my tastebuds are so underdeveloped that flavor terrifies and sickens me. If I could prepare drums of flavorless nutrition gruel, and consume all my meals in shake form, i’d be a happy man.

I guess my strictly healthy upbringing isn’t all bad. By the time our youngest sister was born, we had already partially broken my mother’s spirit, so she was allowed all sorts of sinful culinary extravagances like cookies and pop-tarts. Everybody knows pop-tarts are a gateway food. Now she does bad stuff like drink soda, smoke pot, and join sororities. Poor girl didn’t have a chance.

I don’t blame my mother for ruining my childhood. If eating right and working out periodically can make my life longer, gives me the ability to crush skulls in a fight, and makes me look super sexy, then yeah, i’ll continue to lift things up and put them down. Once I have children of my own, you know i’ll be torturing them the same way.

steroid jesus

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I live in Connecticut. Why do I own guns?

Posted on December 17, 2012 by Max T Kramer

Last Friday, some prick shot up an elementary school in Newtown, Connecticut, 6.5 miles away from my mother’s house. If you or someone you know lost a loved one in the attack, you have my deepest sympathy. I am truly sorry for your loss. If you were not directly affected by the attack however, please be quiet. Since Friday, both traditional and social media have been dominated by the mandatory masterbatory expulsions of grief, both sincere and not, as well as declarations of outrage about the state of mental health in our nation, and opinionated rants both for and against updated gun-control laws. Most of all though, people have been asking WHY?

WHY is this such an upsetting event? I think I know. While I am acquainted with survivors of this shooting, I did not know any of the people killed in the attack personally. I’d say this attack is super extra upsetting because innocent children were killed, but i’m pretty sure a car bomb just blew away an orphanage in Northern Turdburglestan, killing hundreds, and we collectively didn’t even blink. I suppose it must be because these were OUR babies. Our beautiful, white, upper-middle class babies. Mass murder is more easily ignored when it occurs somewhere else, preferably somewhere horrible and dusty. It is much harder to stomach when it hits close to home. It inconveniently reminds us that bad things happen to good people, and no matter what we do, we are all vulnerable. I know, I know, this is America, nothing bad is ever supposed to happen HERE, to US, but I guess the gunman didn’t get that memo.

So, WHY did this appalling event happen? It happened because the shooter was a crazy person. You can point fingers all you’d like, at the parents who should have recognized the danger and taken action in the past, at the system which failed another deeply disturbed young man, or at the United States’ gun-centric culture which allows firearms to be so abundant and easily obtainable.

Fuck all that. The shooter is to blame. He is the reason this horrible event happened. He made the decision to commit murder, and he pulled the trigger. He is responsible, not his parents, not the NRA, not Call of Duty: Black Ops. He was a crazy person, and he made the inconceivable decision to kill children. Would you have thought to do that? No. Did you predict someone else would do it? No. How could you? It’s crazy. Crazy people are a thing. They exist.

Nobody in my family is afflicted with a mental illness like that. I don’t know what it takes to treat, prevent, identify, or alleviate problems of this nature, so i’m not weighing in on that discussion.

I do know about guns however.

A lot of people think that the shooter’s mother should not have owned firearms, especially not the military style “assault rifle” which was used in the murders. Clearly, she should not have, but please remember, only restrospect is 20/20. Try to put yourself in her place. You are a woman with a disturbed son, but he is still your son. You can’t believe the worst of him, no matter what the evidence, because he is your son. Maybe he shows violent tendencies, maybe he is threatening sometimes. Maybe, subconsciously, you are scared by him, but you can’t admit that to yourself, because what type of mother would ever admit that their child is scary and dangerous? A bad mother, that’s who, and you’re not a bad mother damn it. Is this actually what the woman thought? We can’t ask her, but it’s possible.

So WHY did she own guns? WHY would anybody own guns? WHY are guns legal? Guns have one purpose, to kill. So, if you own a gun, you must therefore want to kill, right? Yes and no. Yes and no.

I agree with the mainstream media, efforts have to be made to prevent tragedies like this from happening, but how do you go about doing that? Please, tell me. Give me clear steps to follow, and I will follow them.

I want you to know, I am a gun owner. I enjoy hunting, because beasts are delicious, so I have firearms for hunting. They are not designed for use against human beings like assault weapons are, but they could easily be used to kill human beings too.

I also have a handgun. The handgun is designed to kill human beings, and to do it simply and efficiently. It is a terrible piece of equipment. I do not want to ever have to use it, but I will do anything to protect my family. Anything. Including ending a life.

I will gladly give up my guns, if you can promise me that my family and I will always be safe. Promise me that. Promise me that there are no more bad people left in the world, and we will never be threatened, and I will give you my guns today. If you cannot promise me that however, I will keep my guns thank you very much. Judge me all you’d like, I don’t mind.

I own guns. I am not willing to give them up. Unlike most gun owners however, I am willing to admit that guns are the worst. People kill people with guns. The more guns that exist, the more gun violence there will be. The easier it is to get guns, the more gun violence there will be. The more rounds a gun can carry, and the quicker it is to fire those rounds, the more gun violence there will be. Duh. Even so, I am not willing to lessen my ability to protect myself and my family in a quest to improve gun violence statistics.

So what is the deal with assault weapons? I don’t own any, but basically, assault weapons are military style guns which can fire many bullets, quickly. Why in the world would you need a military grade firearm? Well, for one, to protect yourself from the military. I don’t think that the government or military are about to turn on us anytime soon…but it’s nice to have options if they did. I also don’t believe a red dawn scenario is likely, with the continental United States being invaded and civilians having to take up arms to defend their homeland…but the fact that our civilians have such powerful arms to take up is reassuring… to some. At the end of the day, Assault weapons are most likely excessive and extravagant and a horrible idea. But can you promise they are? Promise?

Connecticut is actually pretty restrictive compared to most states when it comes to the hoops you have to jump through to legally obtain a firearm. I am number one A-OK with that. You want that. Purchasing a firearm should not be a casual decision. Nor should it be impossible however. I would love to live in a magical gumdrop candy cane world where nobody has guns and violent criminals and the psychotically deranged do not exist. Instead, I live on Earth, and am part of a notoriously violent and aggressive race. Do we have a problem, culturally? Yep. Do we have too many guns? You bet. Will I give mine up then? Nope.

Regulate all you’d like. You can’t stop all the crazy. If there is even one bad guy left in the world, I want to be able to protect my family from him if I have to. That is why I own guns.

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An early Christmas Present

Posted on November 29, 2012 by Max T Kramer

It’s almost Christmas, and the yard wolves have grown hungry in anticipation of the cold dead winter. They demand a feast.

As such, I have dipped into my private stash, and released a tasty treat. Of words. For you. My Friends. To Read.

 

Night Ripper

 

Do you like it? Do you want more? Maybe i’ll continue to feel generous this holiday season and let you see chapter 2. Or even 3. Maybe.

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My body aches, from mistakes

Posted on November 10, 2012 by Max T Kramer

I’m 27 now. A rough 27. An old 27. A ridden hard and put away wet 27. To anybody thinking about getting older, I don’t recommend it.

My body feels different. I don’t think i’m growing up anymore. I think i’m dying instead. Slowly, to be sure, but still, it’s upsetting. I thought that the final decline didn’t begin until well past 50. It turns out that is not the case.

The signs are subtle, but they’re there. They’re mostly things other people would never even notice, since I still look…alright. I sleep less now though. Not because I have things to do, I just wake up and stare bleakly into space for extended periods of time. On the lucky few occassions when i’m actually able to sleep, I usually have to get up to piss. Sometimes I have to get up twice. They’re not even good pees either, they’re just a squirt, a trickle, three dribbles, a puff of dust, and a couple more drips after I pull my underwear back up for good measure. I remember in elementary school I could stand with my back against the wall and shoot a high pressure stream of cinnamon scented piss with laserlike precision thirty feet across the bathroom and carve my name into the surface of a urinal cake without splashing. Arial font, size 8. I didn’t even have to arc it. Now that i’m 27, my urine is more a foul smelling mist that insists on going everywhere except into the toilet bowl than actual piss. I’m not even certain it can technically be categorized as a liquid anymore.

My shits on the other hand…those can definitely be categorized as liquids. That’s new. In my youth you could build cabins out of my turd logs. Sometimes the Amish did. Now if I drop a couple of rabbit pellets I feel like a success. Bloody Diarrhea, that’s my new status quo. If this is what comes out of my body at 27, what the hell will I be producing at 72?

Excrement isn’t the only thing coming out of my body these days. There’s also the hair. Basically, from my eyes down, i’m a pube. There’s no getting around it. My old man pelt is so lustrous that whenever I go outside without a shirt on, Animal Planet’s Finding Bigfoot film crew starts following me around. Do you know the most disturbing part of all this? (to me) (you might still be worrying about the blood in my stool) My hair is turning grey. Not just my head hair, I can live with being a silver fox. Oh no. My pubes are turning grey too. That’s pretty much the nail in the coffin for sleeping with sassy young college aged chicks ever again, now isn’t it? Not that I was ever going to get the opportunity to sleep with sassy young college aged chicks ever again anyway, but now I really have to admit it to myself. It’s devastating.

I also didn’t expect being an adult to hurt so much. I hurt…everywhere. All the time. My eyes hurt. My insides hurt. My joints hurt. It hurts to eat food. It hurts to move. It hurts to stay still. If i’m being honest with myself, I shouldn’t be surprised by this. I’ve gotten a lot of mileage out of my body. It’s definitely been more abused than your average 27 year old meat sack.

10 years of competitive football, endless fighting, rock climbing, stress at work, a newly sedentary lifestyle, 8 million bottles of cheap whiskey, and my strange penchant for getting hit by vans while on my motorcycle have all contributed to creating the enfeebled hot mess I frown at in the mirror every day.

Has it been worth it?

I’ll let you know when i’m 72.

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Dear Future President of the United States,

Posted on October 15, 2012 by Max T Kramer

Go to the website www.usdebtclock.org, and stare at it until your eyes bleed.

Currently the total US debt exceeds 58 TRILLION dollars. Do you know how many dollars a trillion dollars is? Infinity dollars.

This year, US federal tax revenue was something like 2.4 trillion dollars. US Federal spending was above 3.5 trillion. COME ON. I know 3 year old children that can balance a budget. It is really quite easy. All you have to do is spend less than what you make. SO WHY DID OUR GOVERNMENT SPEND OVER A TRILLION DOLLARS MORE THAN WHAT THEY MADE THIS YEAR?!? A trillion dollars isn’t an accidental oopsie. It’s not like the government can say “well, we had everything budgeted out properly, but then Air Force One needed some unscheduled maintenance, and the water heater broke in the White House, so we had to dip into our savings a little bit, but we’re back on track now.” No. A trillion dollar deficit is our government saying “Yeah, we’re not even trying anymore. If you don’t like it, you can go fuck yourself. We hate each and every one of you individually as a person.”

I wish I could choose where my tax dollars go. That would be awesome. I don’t mind paying taxes, i’m a civic minded individual, and I enjoy things like well maintained roads and reliable emergency response services, but i’m sure a significant portion of the taxes I pay go toward funding things I don’t approve of. They probably go toward things that actively hurt me.

When a big corporation is struggling financially, they take the necessary painful steps to get back onto a successful path. They cut spending. They figure out ways to make more money. They sell off unprofitable lines of business. They adjust, improve, and evolve. Maybe our government should think about doing the same things?

How much of our government’s spending is actually necessary? 16%? There are huge expenditures we can cut out of our budget. Here’s an idea. Get our military out of whatever sandy garbage heaps they’re currently serving in. Unless we are actively invading a country to take it over for good (i’m looking at you Canada), we should remove every single serviceman from land that doesn’t have an American flag flying over it and bring them back to help out around here. I guarantee we have more than enough military hardware and personnel to protect the homeland. We don’t need to keep spending money we don’t have producing more. We just have to tell the rest of the world we’re sorry, but they’re going to need to be adults and deal with their own shit for a while, because Uncle Sam’s got his own problems to solve. I have a sneaking suspicion we won’t be missed, and boom, we’ll also be saving hundreds of billions of dollars every year.

The military isn’t the only thing we can cut back on either. Things we need: roads, bridges, dams, hospitals, etc. Things we don’t need as much: agricultural subsidies, corporate welfare, regular welfare, tax credits, federal grants for dumb stuff, humanitarian aid overseas, coffee and donuts in the Capitol break room, etc.

New Zealand cut its government spending in half, and they seem to be doing alright. Is Frodo Freaking Baggins that much better with his money than us?

Cutting spending would help, but it won’t be enough. The government also needs to make more money. How might it do that? Well, i’m glad you asked. Here’s an idea. Taxes. Every politician ever promises to lower taxes when they are campaigning, so people vote for them. Fuck that. I’ll vote for the first politician that says they’re going to raise taxes. It sucks, I know, but we can’t pay real bills with imaginary money. Rich people get a lot of tax breaks. Why!? They’re rich. Tax the fuck out of them. Robin Hood those rich mother-truckers if you have to. They have lots of money. They can afford to give a few more pennies. Let’s be fair though- tax the middle class as well. Tax poor people too, what the hell, why not? Everybody should be pitching in. Will it be popular? No. Will it fix some problems? Smell yeah. The only way to make debt go away is, surprise surprise, to pay it off. Our Government can definitely come closer to achieving that by cutting spending and making more money.

There are other ways to make money besides taxing away our hard earned dollar bills. Has the government considered having an optional fundraiser dedicated to paying down the national debt? Maybe Congress can have a bake sale. Or sell a Supreme Court Hotties calendar. Hell, they can even make a sad television advertisement asking for just 50 cents a day. If people are willing to send Sarah Mclachlan money to help nasty goopy eyed dogs, and those dirty-faced UNICEF children with mismatched shoes and a sad story are always getting sponsored, imagine how much money could be raised with a down on his luck Uncle Sam commercial.

Another smart thing corporations do in times of recession is sell off unprofitable lines of business. If a particular product or factory isn’t making money, they get rid of it. That way not only do they get a sweet check from whoever they sell it to, they also get the reprieve of not having to operate a money-losing facet of their business anymore, as well as being able to focus better on the remaining portions of the company. In business, during a tough economy, focus and specialization are good.

This doesn’t just apply to businesses either. Sports teams get rid of their weakest players all the time. Maybe it’s time for America to trim the fat as well.

We have 50 states. It’s a nice, even number, I know, but do we need all of them? Does America really benefit from keeping Missississippi? What about West Virginia? Do we reeeeally need Kentucky? How about Alabama? Surely some money rich but land poor country would be willing to spend a pretty penny for Arkansas. What do you say Japan? Switzerland? Anybody? Plus think of all the jobs we’d create producing all the new 45 star flags.

It’s an idea.

In closing, Future President,

No, I did not vote for you. Since I didn’t bribe/contribute millions of dollars to your campaign I know that you don’t have my best interests at heart, and that all of your campaign promises to people like myself were emptier than my dear mother’s post-menopausal uterus.

I wrote in Bill Clinton on the ballot. That guy’s the man.

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