Where the fighting is hardest, there will I be.
Let them come if they dare, we’ll be there.

What a positively horrible weekend.  Another weekend in the trenches.

Now you all know that I love the army very much, even on its worst days.  I like to complain about everything because it gives me a sense of control in a world full of chaos.  But this weekend was particularly rough.  I almost thought about defecting to Canada, but then I realised that it’s winter and it’s probably frigid up there right now.

So at any rate, what made this weekend so ghastly?  Let’s start out with a FULL THREE DAYS.  We only do these full three days once or twice a year, and usually we go down to the Vietnam-era labour camp and just getting down there, setting up shop and getting back takes up half the drill period.  Makes time go by much faster.

When you sit with people for three days straight, you start seeing things about them that you really don’t care to see.  Personalities start coming out.  Everything becomes a melodrama.  I found myself annoyed more than once. 

Friday, I had to give my class and I’m grateful to Waders and SF for helping me out on it.  You know I got these metal jonts in my mouth now and I can hardly speak.  All this eloquence training gone out the window as I speak and slather all over people.  Truly annoying.  I’m glad it was well received, and stuff like this is putting me on the map so I can make E5.  I’m an ambitious little somebody, not because I’m all Army Strong or whatever, but because I want the money.  I plan on retiring from the Army so I can live a good life and sail around the world with my pool boy when I’m 65 1/3, or whatever the retirement age is.

Saturday morning we got up to take the PT test.  I was more prepared in October because me and Burks had been brutality training while we were in PANAMAX, but when they postponed the crap till November, I got kind of lazy.  I do workout everyday, but not everyday is a brutality workout.  You can’t do brutality for two months straight, but I couldn’t slack off.  I must say I’m disappointed in my peers that they didn’t pass because it makes them targets for some of the BS that is now going on in the unit.  I’ve been doing my HUMINT collecting again and I’m seeing some very strange and suspicious things going on.

I’m not going to post it here because one must be careful about what she writes on the internet, just know that we all need to be on our Ps and Qs these days now that certain things have come to pass.  And that’s all I’m going to say about that.

I feel like I could have done much better on the run but failure to drink enough water and trepidation of running on a goose-shit slicked track forced me to slow down.  I did 17:24 or something like that, and I know I can run much faster.  I was praised by some senior NCOs for being a motivator to my fellow junior soldiers, but I sometimes see this as patronising.  The thing is my age.  Yes, I’m a junior soldier and I probably don’t know as much about the Army as I should, but I’m very grown and have been working and out in the real world for quite some time.  I’m not doing anything special other than what a woman my age should be doing:  handling business. 

PT made the rest of the day draining.  I like to go to sleep immediately after working out but unfortunately there’s no such luck.  It also didn’t help that SPC Nosey McBrowniePants gave a horrendously long briefing on purpose because she was annoyed that no one in her section was helping her out.  You know I will be the first one to tell you to do your job, but seriously, sometimes it’s really not that serious.  It was too ridiculous to be believed that she actually wanted us to individually test on treating a severed limb, a class we’ve had a hundred and one times.  I would want to save a fellow soldier’s life, and I hope they would save mine, but the raw truth is that I would probably pass the fuck out if I saw blood spurting out of a wound like I’m in the murder scene of Saw VII:  Let the Bloodbath Continue.

Then all that drama that occurred after the class.  Completely unnecessary.  People were screaming each other.  Tempers flared.  Everyone being all overdramatic.  Attitudes hot.  I don’t really have time for all that.  It’s just unnecessary to me.  I prefer to be laidback.  I know I’m a class clown when I goof off with my friends but that is in private and not for outsiders to see.  I’m into keeping a low profile, and I’ve noted to a close friend that it’s time for the men and boys to separate.

I say that not because I’m trying to become Sergeant Major of the Universe but because even if I never get promoted, I just don’t want to be seen as “that person.”  I see what they do to people they don’t think highly of.  You become the butt of everybody’s jokes.  You become the person they run to when they have a shit detail.  Remember SPC I Slept With My Own Brother (that’s a story for another day.)  Anyway, she was the unit gofer, and not in a good way.  Anything that was shitty they tasked to her.  The worst jobs, like the one time we had to have guards, they put her on the very late night shift, standing outside all night watching some weapons when it was freezing cold.  She always had to be A-driver in the HMMMVVV or whatever the damn nomenclature is.  She was the one being sent to get shit like mayonaise and toilet paper.

That’s humiliating and irritating to me.  I don’t want to be that one, so if it means sitting in a hole by myself while everybody else jacks off, I guess that’s what I’m going to have to do.  Because seriously, the first time someone asks me to alphabetise mop handles, I’m going to wig out and it’s not a pretty sight when I get to cussing, because I make people cry.

So by Sunday, it was glaringly apparenty that no one had any real desire to be there.  Best friends were ready to stab each other.  I snapped at a certain witless specialist because she’s so spacey and silly that I can’t believe she’s managed to make it through all 25 of her years without doing herself serious injury.  Actually, that can be debated, but she truly is a lost cause and every time I see her face to face, I’m reminded of all the reasons why I stopped spending time with her in the first place.

Then I had to jump in someone else’s ass because he acts like a mildly retarded 4 year old.  Seriously?  I know it’s because his mother wipes his ass for him and if he had to take a shit on his own he would fail.  I’ve had to cuss him out a few times this year, but I see it’s time for an annual refresher cuss out.  I saw that he was getting on SF’s nerves but she doesn’t have my savoir faire.  She did try to say something to him but she doesn’t come across right and someone had to check her.

See, what you do is, take his ass out back and beat him with a wet stick, then he won’t act like that anymore.  It’s a damn shame, and he’s like 25 years old.  When are you ever going to grow up?  And the other one, his ass is 40.  I’m not sure who told him that he was apart of the crew, but his application was denied.  How someone married him is quite beyond my capacity.  He’s a know-it-all contentious bastard and I wish his paperwork would hurry so he go away to his training and be gone for some months so I wouldn’t have to see his ass.

Okay, see, I said I wasn’t going to take this to that level and apparently I’m there and back again.

Anyway, Sunday during first formation I was awarded an ARCOM.  It was completely unexpected.  I figured I would get a certificate just for breathing, or at the very least an AAM just because nobody had to ask me to take a shit.  I was proud to be recognised for doing something good.  A lot of times, I feel like those of who work hard are being overlooked because we’re not apart of the get-a-long gang.  Someone told me that I was slowly working my way into the In-Crowd, but I don’t feel like I need to be in order to achieve something.

Unfortunately, that is not the way of the world. 

So, in three weeks we get to come back and do this shit all over again.  Mandatory fun day, showing up for a gay holiday party that is always geared towards families, leaving those of us unmarried, childless people to feel even more like losers than we already do.  I hate stuff like that. 

le sigh.  I make everything so difficult.

something missing…

While eating breakfast this morning, which consisted of two clementine, a 100 calories bagel with apple butter and a pumpkin coffee, I was catching up on some magazine reading.

Breakfast

I had a half read Glamour, so I decided to finish it up. I ran across a very interesting article about breast cancer research. Found on page 299 of Octobers Glamour. It was about helping to find a cure for breast cancer. Avon has teamed up with a group of doctors to recruit 1 million women, of all ages, races, faiths, those who have had breast cancer and those who have not, to volunteer for medical studies. If you sign up to volunteer, think of it as being in the army reserve, if the right research study comes up that fits your profile you may get a  call to action. The article said that for most studies you just have to fill out a health diary or possibly a check-up at a local hospital. So, I went straight to their website, Army of women and signed up. I was number 316,881 in their goal to recruiting 1 million women.

Volunteering your time and thoughts in the fight against breast cancer does not cost you a penny, the research these doctors are doing is invaluable and the end it will benefit women of all walks of life across the globe.

Avon says…

“We need you! Take advantage of this life-changing opportunity to directly participate in breast cancer research. Women of all ages, ethnicities and risks — whether you have had breast cancer or not — are needed now!”

Visit armyofwomen.org to sign up, when you do sign up please put in the referral field “Vespa Contest” and my email address, kapannos@gmail.com. It’s time for us women to step up and try to become one-step-ahead of this terrible cancer that claims many of our mothers, sisters and friends every year.

I am an Army of One. At least for the next few days. I am on my own, manning the controls, running the ship, holding down the fort. I will be answering to no one, ruling with reckless abandon! I am woman, hear me roar! – Okay, that said, what I don’t know how to do over the next few days is to be in three different places at once juggling orthodontic appointments, soccer practice and games, but as soon as I figure that out, you all better watch out because I will be unstoppable. Until then, I will be like the Little Engine that Could. Chug, chug, chugging up that hill.

When it comes to getting even, he's taking revenge into overdrive.

Um filme com Dolph Lundgren, uma gaja boa, Lundgren ao pontapé, Ferraris, Lundgren ao sopapo, Lamborghinis, Lundgren com armas, perseguições, o que se pode pedir mais? Lundgren é Nick Santee, um condutor de camiões que trafica carros de luxo. Ao ser atraiçoado pelo seu patrão, eis que decide tomar as rédeas e investir contra o policia corrupto que o incriminou. Passado no Texas e sem a presença do nosso Texas Ranger preferido, esta é uma história de vingança, com algum sexo a mistura. Do eterno duplo Vic Armstrong, com George Segal, Kristian Alfonso, Geoffrey Lewis, Beau Starr, Michelle Phillips, Michael Paul Chan e Matt Battaglia.

Tou Stallone, precisas de mais um expendable? Conta aqui com o papá

Vale a pena deixar de ver a bola e a caneca da cerveja a aquecer para ver isto

http://bazaar-magazine.com/baz/bazaar/index.php?show=eIndex&show_filter=view&action=article&art_id=ART00000000438

Check out Army of One interview in Baazar.

Well done Faisal.. Keep it up.

“Pick a service, pick a challenge, set yourself apart, Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines! What a great place it’s a great place to start!” Late 1970’s and early 1980’s military recruiting jingle.

I was in high school when Selective Service was ended and the military switched from a force that was primarily draftees to the “All Volunteer” military.  At first this was not a good thing, not the fault of the change but because of the timing.  The United States had withdrawn from Vietnam, morale was low and the country in the midst of a massive political crisis.  The military had become a target for any protester with an axe to grind against the government.  The  military was seen by many as a place for losers.  And unfortunately a lot of the early volunteers, while not necessarily losers, were among the lowest classes of recruits.  By the 1980s this began to get better and the all volunteer force became one of the finest military organizations in the world, in some areas the finest.

In the process of this the military has spent lots and lots of dollars to attract the best recruits.  In order to do this effectively it turned to Madison avenue advertising gurus.  These are the same people who can make you want to choke down an otherwise unpalatable sandwich and fries  from a fast food chain that causes your arteries to harden before you finish.  Yes the very same guys who make cigarettes which turn your lungs into tarry goop look sexy, and who can turn the slimiest of politicians into someone who makes you feel good because “they care.”  Obviously these were dark times for the military…it could not have been easy for the brass who cut their teeth at Normandy, Iwo Jima, Midway, Korea and Vietnam that they should rely on Madison Avenue to get them the best recruits available.

In the process we got some good and not so good recruiting slogans.  One of the early Army ditties was “We do more by 9 in the morning than most people do in an entire day.”  Having spent 17 1/2 years in the Army I can say that this was true at least as far as how many hours you were awake before the rest of the world woke up.  What they forgot to mention was that “We spend more time after hours daily than most people do in an entire month.”  This was even more true.  I remember one incident where some Headquarters weenie at V Corps in Frankfurt saw a vehicle at Frankfurt Airport with a tail light out.  The edict went out from high to find the offending vehicle.  Of course instead of simply looking up the bumper number or vehicle type, they queried the whole Corps.  About 1900, or 7PM to civilian types my Motor Sergeant Steve Culp and I were about to close up shop on this Friday evening.   Our Company Commander sent us back out in the dark and the snow and sleet to check taillights.  No offending taillights found we reported to the C.O. who told us to wait until Corps told us that we could go home.  Finally after the report went up through Group, the 3rd Support Command and Corps word came back, about 2200 that we were safe.  We could go home.  It was like an Army version of the Strawberry incident in the Caine Mutiny only without the ice cream.

Of course the Army not to outdo itself created a monster in it’s “Army of One” campaign  The “There’s Strong and then there’s Army Strong” campaign is better but I did see a hilarious screen saver at the Navy mobilization site at Ft Jackson SC.   That parody had the caption “There’s Stupid and then there’s  Army Stupid.”

The classic Army recruiting ditty was “Be all that you can be!” This lasted a long time.  Of course it engendered both positive and negative reactions but one definitely associated it with personal success and the Army.  Admittedly for some people it didn’t take much to get to being all that they could be, but still it was a pretty good slogan. Another Army slogan was “Get an edge on life.” I thought it forgettable as obviously did most who heard it.

The Air Force had one that also became legendary.  “Aim High.” It pointed people up.  Since very few people in the Air Force ever set foot in a military aircraft this slogan engendered a sense that if you were in the Air Force that you would be flying.  This was cool and since the Air Force also sold itself as being “A great way of life” it ensured that people would get people who liked the sexiness of being associated with aircraft and great base services. These I think were better than the current crop which include some lame slogans like “Do something amazing.” and “We’ve been waiting for you.” On the plus side the Air Force Song actually talks about shooting people, albeit from far away, but still give them credit.

The Navy has had a number of recruiting slogans over the years.  I think the classic was “The Navy, it’s not just a job, it’s an adventure.” The current slogan, “Accelerate your life.” is just okay.  Saturday Night Live did a spoof on the “not just a job” back in the late 1970s.  After showing a old supply ship at Bayonne NJ with sailors chipping paint, scrubbing heads (toilets) and every other menial task associated with the Navy the clip ended: “It’s not just a job; it’s $96.78 a week.”  That link is here:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SL-OtsN9VdM

At the same time the Navy also appealed to it’s heritage linking the past and present.  I think one of the best recruiting posters every made was the “Heritage” poster from the 1970s.

The Marines though have had the best slogans. “The Few, The Proud, The Marines,” and “The Marines: We’re Looking for a Few Good Men.” and the classic “We didn’t promise you a rose garden.”

The scary part of all of this is that I have been in the military long enough to see all of these commercials  and posters.  Since I look forward to being around at least a few more years I do, with trepidation and an eye for parody look forward to the new slogans that will be introduced and what parodies will be made.

Peace, Steve+

“People don’t know what’s going to happen next. My readers are not sure. Could I embarrass them? Maybe. Could I inspire them? Maybe. They don’t know. That’s very important, because when you become a comfortable, reliable friend, I’m not sure that’s the place for great blogging.” –Prince Campbell (chartreuse)

chartreu.se

Ok that’s just annoying. I posted this and everything I typed went missing.

I’ve had this mix in the bag for like 3 weeks and I keep forgetting to post it. I’ve decided to stop doing these until I can figure out how to make it a podcast and to help me focus on making a mix of original tunes which has been the goal for a bit.

But either way here is this mix.

You know the drill by now. Right click and save the link bellow to download.

RIGHT CLICK AND SAVE HERE

Tracklisting….

Quarks – Du Entkommst Mir Nicht (Lawrence Remix) [Home]

A.D.D. – Ribs (Army Of One’s Jerk Sauce Remix) [Uppercutz]

D.H.S. – House Of God (Martin Landsky Remix) [Poker Flat]

FC Kahuna – Nothing Is Wrong [Skint]

Authur Argent – Hold Your Head Up (Soulwhacked Remix) [Whacked]

Zero 7 – Futures (Rub N’ Tug Remix) [Ultimate Dilemma]

Dear favorite ex-wife who spends her time trying to change the world:

No matter what happens in our next 50 years, you know no will love you more than me. And I respect more than anyone the things you are trying to do.

If it wasn’t for people like you the world would never have the opportunity to be as great as it could be.

But I want to be sure you know what’s really going on.

And how the world really works.

We all know the world is now forever flat.

We all know more opportunities abound.

Some kid with a idea is almost as powerful as a CEO of a major corporation.

That the most important thing is ideas.

But you have to be realistic.
You have to pay attention.
And know no one makes it alone.

What do you think all these social networks are for?

We are in an age of great change. And the world of our grandkids is going to be almost unrecognizable.

But nothing disappears.

The world isn’t a pendulum which swings back and forth between conservatism and liberalism.

It’s not a place that goes from one extreme to the other.

Change is more like a spiral staircase.

We take pieces of the past and carry some of it with us.

We never go back. Never.

But neither do we ever really forget.

It would be good if the extreme greed of the past century was to disappear.

That we would do nothing but create sustainable living places from now on. Get rid of all racism and provide everyone with opportunities.

It would be great if all the future models were a more realistic representation of reality.

But the truth is, mass excesses and greed isn’t going to disappear. It’s going to morph into the times. And reappear as something a bit different.

The good (hopefully) will become the norm but the evil will still hang around.

You don’t have to live a life of power and wealth.
You don’t have to be beautiful.
But it helps.

It always has.
Call me whenever.
My donation is in the mail.

-prince

On February 6, 2007 Steve Jobs wrote his “Thoughts On Music” on the Apple website.

He explained Apple’s need to ‘license rights to distribute music from others,’ mentioning Universal and the other large record companies.

This ubiquitous statement may now be the death nell for already struggling record companies.

Why?

Because Eminem read Steve Jobs ‘thoughts’, that line in particular and got pissed.

You see, the major labels equates digital downloads to the sale of music in other forms. Meaning they treat it like a CD. The artist only gets a small percentage of the sale.

Licensing agreements are different.

According to most licencing agreements the money is split 50/50 with the artists.

So are digital sales (i.e. ringtones and downloads) actual music sales (like CDs) or licencing agreements between record labels and other companies?

Well a jury will be deciding that this week.

If they are licensing agreements then record labels owe a lot of money, which, let’s face it, they can’t really afford.

Though there are other things going on in the world of music, the labels are bringing their A-game. Taking the stand will be record company legends and even Steve Jobs (via video).

The ramifications are that important to the labels.

Which just means they expect to lose.

Back when I was in the record business one of my bosses would always say you can find the future by looking at the edges.

Well he didn’t say that exactly but he would always go first to the gay clubs and see what they was listening to now because he claimed, by next year, everyone would be listening to it.

Some things don’t change.

Last year while visiting friends in Detroit a faghag friend of mine told me after a heated discussion, to “kick rocks!“

Being a 40 year old man not up on the latest slang I had no idea what that meant.

But since I dig clever I asked.

“It’s like when a kid leaves upset with his head down and he kicks the first thing he sees. It’s gay slang for ‘fuck off!’.”

Flash forward.

A quick twitter search for “kick rocks” shows that a phrase  found in the gay slang dictionary has now moved to teenagers and rappers who probably have no idea where it came from. It won’t be long till it’s used in a New York Times opinion piece.

It’s been co-opted, remixed, or whatever else you want to call the way things move through culture today.

Which brings us to the current controversy concering Obama, the AP and artist Shepard Fairey.

Fairey created the now iconic Hope poster of President Obama based on a little known AP picture.

Now that that it has become so popular the AP wants credit and a cut.

Now this won’t be the case that frees remixes, mashups and other cool stuff from legal limbo. (It involves the President so it will be quietly resolved.)

But it makes it abundantly clear that the rules we created in the 20th Century are now practically archaic. And when you attempt to use them on 21st Century situations they sound ridiculous to current sensibilities.

Everything introduced to the public will be remixed and used in purposes that is only limited by imagination.

It’s the age we live in.

You have to accept that you never know where things will end up.

For the past week I have been in battle with the 70 year old lady that lives next door.

She’s nosy. She wakes me up at 7:30 every morning and called the city on me for mythical violations.

Trying to avoid an all out war with the lady I went to talk to her yesterday evening.

I explained my case and asked her to start being reasonable.

She told me, no lie, to “kick rocks”.

True Story.

I have a little money in several businesses and sometimes I am called to different meetings. Yesterday I was asked if I wanted to attend a managers meeting of some property I’m involved in.

So I am sitting in a room with 6 managers and 2 new hires as the owner is giving a rundown of responsibilities. It was pretty boring but we had picked up some food so I half listened as I munched on chicken wings and sipped on orange soda.

Then one of our recently fired managers walked in.

He was fired for stealing about $600.00

The owner suddenly started stumbling on his words. Since we had went over what he would talk about I tried to help him out.

“Wait Prince”, he said “XXXXX, where’s my mutherfucking money?”

The room got silent.

3 seconds later the 40 year old business owner and the 35 year old former manager were fighting in the middle of the room. Chairs and money were flying everywhere. (The owner went for the other guys wallet.)

It was complete chaos.

They ended up outside in New York’s 20 something degree weather.

As the crowd went outside I hastily picked up all the money and gave it to one of the other managers to count and tried to think.

I got the money from the other manager (about $300) and walked outside. The fight was over but the testosterone and energy was still quite high.Blood was on the snow.  People were screaming threats.

I went to the corner, waved down a cab and led the business owner into it.

As the police passed us , lights a blazing, going toward the building I took a breath.

I’m not too worried about my investment but I definately will skip the next monthly meeting.

My first wife asked me to marry her.

I worked at a radio station and was trying to open a nightclub.

I was busy.

And the rest of my life wasn’t on my mind.

What was on my mind was work. Building stuff.

But she told me something that convinced me.

“Prince, marry me. I’ll support you in whatever you want to do. Build your windmills and know I have your back.”

2 months after the wedding I remember lying in bed next to my beautiful wife. I could see the sun rising through the cheap curtains. The day felt perfect.

I turned to my new bride and said how we should take the day off and enjoy a perfect Louisiana day.

She cursed me out and screamed about the bills.

I will never forget lying there with that perfect sunrise beaming on her face and my then wife complaining.

It took 4 more years but I knew our relationship was really over at that moment.

But this post is not about ex-wives.

It’s about knowing when things are dead.

A lot people, unfortunately feel that there is something horrible in failure.

That’s not true.

There is something horrible in stretching out failure when your gut tells you you can’t win.

A good friend of mine opened a store in a new mall in a mid-sized city. The mall never got any traction and went through 7 managers in 3 months.

” I am tired of being a crash-test dummy,” she would tell me.

The other vendors and store owners would meet and talk and complain and hope.

My friend decided not to put anymore money in a money pit and closed her store.

Was it hard firing employees? Sure.

Was it a blow to the ego as other store owners watched her move her stuff out? Of course.

But was it the right decision? Definately.

“There is nothing noble about being the last person off a sinking ship. I am not going to be the last person to give this guy (the landlord) rent.  My gut tells me to close this store.”

This is the age of reinvention.

This is the age of a million ideas. And not all of them will work.

This is the age of strong beliefs, loosely held.

This is an age where the past has little if anything to teach you.

All the lessons are happening right now.

Trust your instincts. And know that being slow will kill you.

Sometimes when the world inside is cursing you out the best thing to do is not to cover your head with a pillow and wait for it to past.

Sometimes the best thing to do is to just go outside.

For months I’ve been wanting to write about what entrepreneurs can learn from terrorists. The whole idea of attacking the weak point in large systems, taking advantage of common technologies and having a completely flat organization. But after Mumbia I don’t think I will.

Beyonce’s new album has a song on it called ‘Halo” that’s awesome. That got me thinking about how sooo much more popular she is than Jay-Z.

Speaking of music, I suggest you bother Thaddeus Clark to get a download of Side Hustle’s album. I missed the release party but the album is still on my itouch.  It’s that good.

One of the stupidest complaints I heard in the tech world this month was about the African-American browser some folks created. Many thought it was racist. Actually it’s the future. If you ain’t got a niche you ain’t got nothing. The best way to make money today is to be as focused as possible. Ever heard of Uptown Magazine? They’re thriving. Wanna make money? Create great niche products for individuals. Ask the porn industry.

My favorite blogs this year? one , two,  three ,  in no particular order. There were other great ones of course. But those always make me feel smarter than those who don’t read them.

Every time I hear about something Howard Lindzon is doing, I smile.

My best investments this year was the $200 I spent on Obama’s campaign and the $220 I spent on my XBOX 360. I know everyone hates Microsoft but my XBOX continues to impress me. And I hardly play games on it! We’ll see on Obama’s longterm value.

The new “ipod tax” should be called a ’sucker’s tax’. Who doesn’t get their media from bittorrent sites, yet?

I have a book coming out the end of  next month. I’m shocked by the number of pre-orders (especially since it’s such a specialized topic) but I think it’s because of my co-author.

“Always be the dumbest guy in the room. At least you’ll learn something.”

Take a look at your life.

Did you get here by being brave or by being fearful?

Did you get here by being open or by being closed?

Did you get here by being hopeful or by being cynical?

Oh, and where are you again??

There has always been a certain hustle and flow to the economy.

Guys buy cigarettes for $20 a carton in Indiana and sell them for $7 a pack in nyc.

The end around economy is nothing new to the real streets.

But now it’s become legitimate.

Can’t get a loan from a bank?

Do an end around with Prosper.

Can’t afford that Infiniti G35 you leased last year.

Do an end around through Swapalease.

Can’t get the local news to cover the town dump issue?

Do an end around with a blog or even get some investigators with Spot.us

As people get tired of the static, noise and red tape associated with doing business with you they’ll find a way to get around, with an end around.

If you run any business that plans on surviving through the current recession it’s imperative you do everything you can to make your product or service end around proof.

There’s even a movie about it. You can download it here.

Remember this cuz it’s important:

You don’t really change people’s minds with facts.

You change people’s minds by changing the way they view themselves.

It’s common knowledge that l’m a pretty liberal guy.

Back in 2004 I was completely confused by George W. Bush supporters.

I would argue with them all the time.

Until one of them told me something which completely changed the way I looked at the world.

“Prince, ” she said, “I just see myself as someone who’s all for protecting this country.”

And therein lies the secret to winning a vote, a sale or a girlfriend.

Fuck facts.

You must change the way people see themselves.

I was fortunate enough to be raised by parents who were big on transforming the way we thought about ourselves and the world.

My mom fought to put in a Jewish private school that only had 2 black kids in it if you counted me.

The church we went to was probably the most multicultural place on the planet. We had white, black, and Hispanic people at our home almost every week.

We Campbell kids learned quickly to see ourselves as part of something global and different. And that was cool.

Here’s the bottom line on how the world really works and Tuesday’s election.

The media is not as powerful as you think.

There is no such think as an undecided voter.

This election (like every election) is all about the way we see ourselves.

The way we see our country.

Or I should say

The way we want to see our ourselves.

And the way we want to see country.

.

And that’s why it’s gonna be close.

In case you didn’t get the memo, the world as you knew it is over.

The future is going to be bold and bright but right now, the transition, is going to be a bitch.

So here’s a pocket guide, (suitable for cellphones and ipods) to get you through the real economic mess.

This Is The First Day Of Your Life

Though it will seem counter-intuitive it’s important that you forget what you know.

Experience is a waste.

No one cares how you used to do things because the way we used to do things don’t work.

The financial system is just one of a long and growing list of things we have to rebuild with a complete open mind. Ask Irving Azoff.

Start looking at the world the same way you see it when a pretty girl you’ve never seen before (in your favorite fuck-you pumps) walks into the room.

You feel wide open with possibilities.

It feels like hope.

You Are Too Small To Fail

My friend Howard Lindzon coined a phrase a few days ago that should be a mantra to the future. “You are too small to fail.

That whole ‘thinking big’ crap is so late 20th century.

Build your shit so that it can’t fail.

Why is someone like Loren Feldman thriving with fucking puppets despite being vilified more than praised?

Because he’s too fucking small to fail.

Your job now is to build your life in such a way that you’re too small to fail.

Think smaller, not bigger.

One of the better (and probable) explanations of the future is written here.

It looks bleak.

But that’s not the end game.

The end game is cheap energy, more freedom, less poverty and more opportunity.

It’s more Rihanna songs. And more Buckminster Fuller.

And less fear and more good.

The truth is, no one is walking out of this mess clean.

When the dust finally settles you probably won’t end up rich.

But if you play your cards right you may just end up happier.

And that ain’t a bad trade for a little turbulance.

The Iliotibial band is in every serious runner’s vocab. It’s a fibrous component of a tough muscle that runs from the lowest part of your buttocks, along the sides of the knee and connects with the calf muscle. Serious runners sometimes experience severe pain on the sides of their knees. This is called “ITB syndrome.” I’ve never experienced any such thing, until earlier this year.

It’s 12:48 a.m  as I write this, and I’ve just run five and a half miles.

The distance from where I live to certain places I’ve measured on mapquest are 5 mile points. Sometimes I run to Dupont Circle, which is 5.2 miles. Sometimes I run to Tryst in Adams Morgan, which is 5.5 miles.

Tonight, I ran to Tryst.

Running at night for me isn’t for the sheer pleasure of it, or for the endorphin rush that comes when I hit the hill going up 18^th street. I’ve always had nighttime “runs” of different sorts over the years. I ran tonight even though I ran two miles and cycled for another two earlier this evening.

When I used to skateboard, at 3 a.m most mornings I would find myself blazing around the city, listening to System of a Down on my ipod (3^rd generation at the time), being eyed warily by cops. They must have wondered who this shirtless, sweating person skateboarding in forty degree weather was.

When I had a bike (I’ve lost three to the city and don’t feel like getting one anytime soon), sometimes I found myself riding to Georgetown at night, to the Golden Key Bridge, or as far as my legs would take me.

The weather never mattered to me, because as I said before I was never doing it for the thrill. It was to escape.

Earlier this year, I was running five to ten miles per night in twenty-five degree weather. The scenario would always be the same. I would be sitting down, and suddenly feel an overwhelming frustration with everything around me. The quietness of my room would start getting to me, and nothing could assuage my feelings. A good song, a tasty treat, or even the lure of sleep weren’t ever able to quell whatever it was I was feeling.

So like Forrest, I started running.

 I started doing two miles a day, wondering if I had the stamina to do more. After the first day, I felt very unfulfilled. The next evening, I ran six miles.

It is an interesting feeling to run in a cold climate. The icy winds hit you mercilessly in the face and you have a distinct sense of being alive. Your lungs are on fire from breathing in air cool enough to freeze a soda, and yet you are sweating, your body fighting against the elements.

Sometimes on these runs, I would step up the activity, stopping every four blocks and do twenty pushups. I felt like I was in the army; an army of one.

Whenever I run, I realize how scary I must look. My face is tight with exhaustion, my body is wilted and I’m moving slowly at times. Every now and then I would say, “Come on man, keep going!”

I might clap a few times, or wave my hands to recharge, and  push on. When I run, the road before me disappears and becomes a sea of thought. I know why I run. I’m running from the frustrating memories of the past, I’m running from the torturous things that have happened to me and I’m running from things that I can never escape. The image of a dead friend in a coffin. The flashes of a car hitting into me from an old car accident. The voice of my Grandfather just before he died, whispering to everyone gathered around him: “Sing for me.”

As I run, this is where my mind is. I’m running against time, and everything around me. I often run until my lungs give out, and I lean against a wall, heaving and gasping for breath, praying that I can breathe normally again. Other times I am like a machine, running ten miles and feeling no signs of fatigue knowing that my return journey is another ten miles.

I jog with music occasionally, and it has its own tales to tell. I may listen to the petulant crooning of Cold Play, the violent angry stories of a myriad dancehall artistes, or I may listen to nothing at all, just the wind on my ears and the sounds of cars as they flash by in a streak of color.

No matter how far I run, the inevitability of the activity hits me. You can’t run forever, and no matter how far you travel, you can’t escape yourself. I’ve sat on the beaches of Hawaii, walked the streets of Berlin and watched the sunrise from the window seat of a 747 over the Atlantic ocean. Yet, I still run.

Distance doesn’t equal happiness, nor does it measure out doses of pleasure in some weird ratio that the universe has developed. No matter how far one travels, or runs, you eventually have to go back home.

In the moment when my run is almost over, when I’m covered in sweat, my lower back aches, and I feel my knees start to hurt, I clap once more. “One more mile.” I chant, as sweat drips off my nose and leaves black dots on asphalt.

At this point the high is gone, and the thoughts that were behind me as I was running are now directly beside me, grinning and cackling like lecherous witches. I don’t’ mind, because like I said, you can’t escape yourself, and wherever you run to, you always end up where you start.

Let’s face it—if there were a Travel Blog Hall of Fame, TripCart’s Travel Blog would be in it. Hey, while we’re on the subject of Halls of Fame, here’s a list from our database of Halls of Fame (for all sorts of random things) found all across America:
(in no particular order)

• National Baseball Hall of Fame – Cooperstown, New York
• Country Music Hall of Fame & Museum – Nashville, Tennessee
• International Tennis Hall of Fame – Newport, Rhode Island
• National Women’s Hall of Fame – Seneca Falls, New York
• Women’s Hall of Fame – San Diego, California
• Astronaut Hall of Fame – Titusville, Florida
• International Swimming Hall of Fame – Ft. Lauderdale, Florida
• International Bowling Museum and Hall of Fame – St. Louis, Missouri
• World Figure Skating Museum & Hall of Fame – Colorado Springs, Colorado
• Cardinals Hall of Fame – St. Louis, Missouri
• Colorado Ski Museum-Ski & Snowboard Hall of Fame – Vail, Colorado
• Georgia Music Hall of Fame – Macon, Georgia
• National Italian American Sports Hall of Fame – Chicago, Illinois
• National Museum of Racing and Hall of Fame – Saratoga Springs, New York
• Hockey Hall of Fame – Ontario – Toronto, Ontario
• Lacrosse Museum and National Hall of Fame – Baltimore, Maryland
• World Golf Village and Hall of Fame – St. Augustine, Florida
• American Police Hall of Fame – Titusville, Florida
• IGFA World Fishing Hall of Fame & Museum – Dania Beach, Florida
• National Mining Hall of Fame and Museum – Leadville, Colorado
• Pro Rodeo Hall of Fame and Museum – Colorado Springs, Colorado
• Science Fiction Museum and Hall of Fame (SFM) – Seattle, Washington
• Oregon Sports Hall of Fame – Portland, Oregon
• Judah L. Magnes Museum (including Jewish-American Hall of Fame) – Berkeley, California
• The Barbie Hall of Fame – Palo Alto, California

It’s nice to honor those men and women who have worked hard to make a name for themselves, who have succeeded in sports or business, who have been role models in years past in present.

• Fall Foliage Staycations
• Highest Rated Ski Resorts by Google
• Shopping Malls – a tremendous boost to TripCart.Com

Before I headed back to Gotham I thought I would spend a portion of my Labor day going to an Obama rally here in Detroit.

My cousin and her daughter got me up early and we headed out to Hart’s Plaza. The speech wasn’t scheduled to start till 11am so our 8am arrival seemed early enough.

We stood in the slow moving line for a spot in the park for 4 hours but still ended up having to watch his speech on the Jumbotron set up for those like us who arrived too late get in.

But this post isn’t about that.

While in line we talked to people of practically every race, age and gender. All happy. All feeling hopeful. All excited and feeling like they are witnessing something important and wanting to somehow be involved.

But this post isn’t about that.

When Obama spoke, he didn’t disappoint. He took a speech about labor (it was Labor Day) and turned it into a call to remember the Gulf Coast storm victims while also remembering the victims of the ‘quiet storms’ many Americans around the country are facing economically.

But this post isn’t about that either.

This post is about the fact that I have not see so many people profit off the back of a black man since O.J. Simpson.

While Nancy Grace, Star Jones, Mark Fuhrman and others can trace there fame back to that infamous trial of the century. There’s a huge underground of small business owners and entrepreneurs who will look back longingly at Obama’s rise in politics and the profits it’s bought them.

I have never seen so many different Obama t-shirts. In the tens of thousands of people I saw at least 1/3rd was wearing some unofficial but cool as hell t-shirt with Obama’s face on it.

And if you didn’t have one there was always someone less than 100ft away willing to sell you one.

Don’t think Obama shirts are popular?

Walk into an Urban Outfitters. McCain just doesn’t get the same love.  But if that’s too corporate for you check out Etsy. Or take a look at Ebay.

The business of Obama is definitely the people’s business.

At the event I went to today there were stands with almost nothing but books about Obama. Not his books. Everyone already has those, but picture books and books for kids all talking about this man who isn’t even (and may not ever be) president. It is truly a site to behold.

But even if you don’t have something with Obama’s picture on it there is still profits to be made.

While standing for hours unlicensed vendors were walking through the crowd with ice chests selling water for $3 a 8 ounce bottle.

When the guy in front of me complained about the price the seller told him that it was “Obama’s sweat chilled and bottled to keep the crowd cool.”

“You should’ve said that!” the guy in front of me said with a smile. “I’ll take two.”

McCain/You 08

Hey all. Are You an Army of One Ready to do your part to elect John McCain?

John McCain is counting on your help to organize the Blogosphere to get the good news about John McCain out to masses.

Sign up and form up your Army of Sock Puppets, TODAY!!! And you can be an Army of One for John McCain.