Jonathan Heatt's Blog: Teaching Snapping Turtles, page 6

The Pleasure Paradox

Everything that brings joy is supposedly bad for you. Sex can result in disease, death, an even worse, children. Food makes you fat. Booze rots your liver. And weed is the most evil of all: it makes you hungry, thirsty, and horny. What to do in such a Quakerish reality?

Considering that no one gets out alive, and death is a most certain promise, it only makes sense to embrace pleasure. If a person has to die the only logical way to go about it is to do what makes that person most happy.

If it pleases a person to drink -- tip a glass...or twenty.

If a person prefers to fornicate -- fuck it (literally so).

If a person possesses a multitude of complex taste buds and desires to utilize every one -- Eat it, and you shall be it.

What is most worthy: Living 80 years and only enjoying 40 of them? Or living 60 and enjoying everyday?

The only caveat: Don't boohoo when the bill comes due. I won't cry when I die, and neither should you.

When Inmates Run the Asylum

We live in a society growing more insane by the second. A surreal state of affairs that borders on asinine where a convicted criminal with a rap sheet longer than Richard Nixon’s Pinocchio-erected nose is able to get 15 minutes of infamy by refusing to show his ID when asked by a cop.

By now most people are familiar with the media-induced hoopla surrounding Sandusky, Ohio and Andre Stockett. For those few blissfully unaware, Stockett, who has been arrested & charged 93 times, recently accused the Sandusky Police Department of racial profiling after refusing to show his ID to an officer. I contend that the officer was merely doing his job and engaged in criminal profiling.

The local salacious rag, the Sandusky Register, has fanned the flames of racial discord, and provided a career criminal with a stage to spout off his grievances, and to offer advice to the SPD. Stockett telling the police how to do their jobs is like an arsonist telling firefighters how to do theirs.

Stockett’s arrest record includes assault, possession of cocaine, abduction, aggravated menacing, and robbery (not to mention 7 different charges of domestic violence). Just another good guy being harassed by the racist white police. Then he has the nerve to compare Sandusky to Ferguson. All the while, the Sandusky Register devours his drool like so many lap dogs in a rabies kennel.

To support Stockett on his anti-cop crusade is a Know Your Rights rally scheduled October 11th in Sandusky, Ohio. According to the Facebook event page 110 people are scheduled to go (as of 9AM this morning).

Using this website: http://www.sanduskymunicipalcourt.org/, I was able to discern that the attendees to this event have a combined 994 criminal charges amongst them. Stewards of the Sandusky community for sure. This total does not include the two outstanding charges Stockett racked up in Morrow County. I originally set the over/under at a 1000 just by glancing at the names. See, this is simple investigative reporting, something the Sandusky Register avoids. They’d rather create the narrative that inspires the most controversy instead of reporting the facts.

I have a great idea, if an officer asks to see your ID, show it to him then be on your way in 5 minutes. If you don’t have a warrant you have nothing to hide. Instead, Stockett became belligerent and verbally abusive, dropping “f bombs” on the cop like he’s never been pulled over before. If Sandusky really were Ferguson, this sort of act would’ve resulted in pepper spray, or worse.

So let’s drop the Ferguson comparisons, and better yet, pick a better social activist than a career criminal. As Public Enemy once pointed out: “Don’t believe the hype!”




About the writer:
Jonathan was born & raised in Sandusky, Ohio. He now lives in Las Vegas and is the author of Teaching Snapping Turtles How To Chew Bubblegum.

Facebook Bumper Sticker Suckers

"God Loves Me, But Not You" and other nuggets of wisdom like "my kid beat up your honor roll student" are the stickers attached to billy-hopper bumpers on every highway. Fish decals signifying sanctimony, and vanity plates exuding desperation are other Trapper Keeper stickers that mongoloids take pride in.

Trite Individuality was something to stick on your car. But not anymore...those days are over. Who needs bumper stickers when there's Facebook? Every day is a bumper sticker of ignorance to propagate online. Everyone is a star of their own sordid reality show. Bowel movements and lice scratching...However mundane -- a day of domestic misery is something to be Liked.

In order to maintain a semblance of sanity I had to take a break from Facebook. A psycho threatened to kill me for cracking a harmless joke. If this is what famous people go through then I never want to be famous.

I was under the impression that getting online was like being human: having a sense of humor.
Nope.
The crazy dude wrote on my wall "I will kill you." Then emailed me the profound statement "I might kill you." Make up your mind already. You will, or you might? Schizos are so wishy-washy.

Only on the internet can a passive aggressive lunatic have over 2000 friends and threaten to kill you after cracking a joke about said passive aggression.

The internet is a conduit to crazies. Our era of Social Networking is devoid of humor, and breeds a mentally-defective mob of John Hinckley Juniors who now have 24/7 access to Everything. The phrase "I might kill you" is casually tossed around like "hello". The new normal is decidedly abnormal. Existence has been narrowed down to log-in passwords and 'Likes'. Thanks, but no thanks. I have to leave the Zuckerberg island every so often.

Facebook is an all-day buffet for sturgeons and other assorted bottom feeders. A couple thousand barnacles attached to the zombies floating through the current of abnormality...and they all like it.

So a break is necessary. But I won't let the bastards win. I'll thin out my "friends" list so it more accurately reflects reality. Then get back on Facebook sporadically and promote my projects.

And the flaws I observe in Facebook I will remedy in the website I create. A website that will benefit Humanity. "Don't complain, do something" is my phrase. Even though passive aggressive punks like to post that same thing on Facebook after me. So my new phrase is: "I wrote a book, bitch."

The Tesla Tube Snake Boogie

"I got a girl, she lives on the hill.
She won't do it but her sister will."

California couldn't/wouldn't boogie with Tesla's ridiculous demands for a battery plant, so Nevada jumped in and sealed the deal by offering 1.3 BILLION dollars in tax incentives.

The new era of Corpocracy: States have to pay for their jobs now.

Corporations are considered people these days, only these people don't have to pay taxes. For decades. Corporate welfare is a scam to be celebrated by grinning governors & CEOs at press conferences. Nevada (pronounced Nevapaytaxes) is the home of the sweet deal as Mining & Gaming corps have always enjoyed lax taxation, but this new Tesla giveaway is unprecedented.

So let me get this straight, regular Nevada folk (a euphemism as there's nothing regular about them, myself included) have to pay property taxes & sales taxes, just not corps who extort states and make them beg & bid for their services like 5 star college football recruits?

Sandoval smiles in public like he nailed the prima donna prom queen, but behind closed doors Elon Musk had him practicing his Deliverance pig squeal. And now the Nevada Republicans are squealing in delight. Though the shrill utterances of swine are still squeals no matter how they spin it. For a supposed libertarian, Musk has no problem suckling the tax-incentive teet of Big Gov.

The writing's on the wall: Sandoval understands that Clark County doesn't need Tesla tax revenue because the water supply will be dried up in a decade. Nevada needs a new cottage industry, and Tesla is it. Why funnel unnecessary tax revenue into the state coffers when the southern half will be a dust bowl? The deal has a certain brilliance to it, however malevolent.

On the positive side, at least NV is subsidizing green technology, and NOT another coal mine, or Honda plant (like southern states love to do).

A solution to corporate welfare: Have federal regulations that outlaw tax incentives. Those companies are not doing us any fucking favors. If they want to build a plant and do business in this country, then they should just do it without handouts. And if they want to go overseas, fine, we won't buy their products.

The entire system is screwed. Real welfare queens are the corporations taking money out of the communities they pretend to help. Creating jobs is fine, but the people shouldn't have to pay for them.

Texts Outta Context

I was cleaning my phone today (a 21st century chore), and came across several texts that I sent to misc people the past few years that made me chortle. So I figure I'd share them.

These texts were sent all hours of the day & night...and most for no sane reason at all:

-I got restless bowel syndrome.

-My farts smell like a Calcutta sewer system.

-I'm in the front yard forming like Voltron.

-Tuck those chins in soldier.

-What do you call two lesbian gymnasts going at it? Lickety splits.

-My stomach's growling like Cujo.

-Gary Coleman used to shower at Penn State.

-I need a trebuchet to get off the couch.

-My liver feels like Chuck Norris just sparred with it.

-My kidneys feel like Jet Li been using them as speedbags.

-Found the perfect hooker for you: a Syrian refugee with ringworm.

-Just made the best ribs ever. Tender as twat!

-U silly sucker, go get me my ends!

-I should produce a series of found footage pornos and title them Penisnormal Activities.

-Chevy Chase has a twin brother named Ford Follows.

-What is it called when a dude eats a sick snatch? Flu Man Chew.

-My gonads are like nomads.

-Loose stools stink ships.

-Rodents are on the loose and the world is out of mousetraps.

-I sent a 3 lb package of Kush to you. Deliver it to Purple Queefle Eater at Lyman Harbor Sept 1st or there's gonna be Bad Trouble.

-The Deal has been made and your name is on the line. Haitians w/uzis are the recipients. Dreads.

-My brain is a high-powered relic beyond disrepair that runs on fumes.

-Sharted yesterday after eating too much sweet corn. No time to be forcing a fart. Finna box up these boxers and mail them to you for posterity purposes.

[There's more gonzo texts. I'll post Part 2 next week]

Ohio's prodigal son returns

LeBron's decision to return to Cleveland didn't surprise me. I expected it. Even hoped for it. The symbolism was too strong: it proves Everyone has the capacity to change.

Or maybe he'd still be in Miami 'if' Wade didn't age at the same rate of cats. 'Ifs' don't matter in real life, the only thing that matters is that LeBron is back in Cleveland to handle unfinished business. Even more important, he aspires to inspire people to make Northeast Ohio a better place.

This is called Growing Up, folks. And the prodigal (yet spoiled) son of Ohio seems to recognize that his elevated sports platform has the potential to do more than just enrich him. Let's hope this isn't a calculated PR stunt.

LeBron winning a championship in Cleveland would be the city's best sports story of all-time, but an even better story would be him having a positive socio-cultural impact on Cleveland.

His move back to Cleveland has major implications for any Ohio person who moved away for better opportunities. People may think twice about leaving Ohio now. Granted, not everyone can play basketball for a living, but the only way to make home better is by staying to make home better...not moving away then bitching about it. LeBron merely took a four-year long spring break...his college analogy of living in Miami is for the flamingoes.

I will be interested to see how this move plays out. LeBron could help make Northeast Ohio a better place to live and raise a family. Or maybe I'm a blind optimist and he merely moved back to be on a better team and sell more Nikeys. We'll see...(or not, blind optimists are blind, after all)

Until then, I applaud his decision...I just wished he would've made it before my book was published. He has a prominent place in my Bitch-Slap List chapter.

But now I would put him on my Pat-on-the-back list. The move back to Cleveland couldn't have been an easy decision, and any man that trades in beaches & palm trees for snow shovels & lake-effect weather deserves it.

Cleveland fans should forgive him. He was an ambitious young man with more ego than sense. Whoever never acted like an asshole can cast the first stone.

[Regardless of what happens, blindly rooting for a city's sports team doesn't make a city great. It's what people DO for a city that does.]

Missed Opportunity for Media

The FIFA World Cup protests could've should've been the biggest sports story of the past decade. The collective consciousness of the world's fifth largest country rose above their beloved sport, where the people demanded social justice over spectacle.

And we, the American people, got nothing. Nada. Barely a whisper drowned out by the din of brainless nationalism. Rooting for anything at least makes a person feel something. And we profess a deep abiding love for feeling, and in equal parts, a resentment for thinking. It feels good to not think.

The American Sheeple need their sports. It doesn't matter what kind so long as it is played on a continuous 24-hour loop 365 days a year. Better to root 'for' than 'do'. Who needs Valium when there's ESPN 2? Next month there will be tennis and women's rugby. God must've created these sporting events as an organic insomnia remedy. But after years, and years, and yes, even more years of dosing the brain with mindless sports, will the poor organ lose the capacity to be awake?

[After the Winter Olympics debacle in Russia, I thought at least one news organization would send a decent writer down to Brazil to cover the World Cup. Too bad Ken Kesey wasn't in his prime. His reporting on the 1981 Beijing Marathon is without peer, and would be refreshing in the stale realm of contemporary sports reporting.]

3 Stooges

Three people I criticized in my book Teaching Snapping Turtles How to Chew Bubblegum have been in the news lately.

1 - Bryan Singer: accused of sexually abusing young boys.

2 - TI: throwing chairs at Floyd Mayweather while debating the intricacies of the Pythagorean theorem at the fine-dining establishment Fatburger.

And last, but least

3 - Jonah Hill: using homophobic slurs in public. But which is worse? What Jonah Hill says? or does? I find it more offensive that he poses with guns on posters for his crappy movies 21 & 22 Jump Street.

For more info, read my ebook.