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   For those of you that don't already know, Jericho is just my nick name. My real name is Jason. Jason Brown - redundant over boring.

   This has resulted in two problems for me. First, Jason was the default name for males in my generation. I'm not sure why, but it was awfully popular. All of my life, there have always been at least one other Jason somewhere nearby. Grade school there were two others in my (small) class. High school there were 4 or 5 others in the (again, small) school. In college there were 4 Jason Browns, I regularly got one of the other's pay checks. Not fun for me as I tended to make WAY more than my counterpart. One of those Jason Browns was a date rapist, I didn't find out about him until my mother told me she had seen a report on his capture in the news in STL - apparently all the girls wrote about him on bathroom stalls. No wonder I didn't date much in college. My nick name , Jericho, came from my friend's and my own desire to seperate me from the gaggle of Jasons at the rather large institution. While at Boeing I got to know two other Jason Browns quite well via email. These days, I have again had to turn to my nick name at work. It's embarassing in such a professional environment as a law office to be forced into using a nick name from college, but there is another Jason in my (you guessed it, small) group. A certain lawyer and I regularly excahnge mail as he too is blessed with the redundant over boring moniker.

   What were my parents thinking? Couldn't they have named me something unusual like James, John, Peter or Paul? Jeez!

   One other problem has creeped up - quite literally. Friday the 13th, the original, was a forgetable movie filled with fake blood and cliche'. It has been followed by 8 other movies where the main character, a Jason Voorhees, has stomped, chopped, grunted, burned, ripped, stabbed, crushed, spindled and mutilated his way into the hearts and minds of the American public. His iconic mask and (thankful!) lack of dialog have left a lasting impression on my generation.

   Where's the problem? Well, the same idots who love these movies look at me, knowing my name and make the connection: "Let's see here - big guy named Jason - bet he would think being compared to an undead, evil pyschopath from the worst series of movies ever is funny!" When I shake my head in disgust and give my half smile at their jest or dare to show up at a costume party not sporting a hockey mask, their surprise is overwhelming. Folks - from what I have forced myself to see of these movies - they are the worst hollywood could produce without resurrecting the body of Ed Wood. Do myself and the other Jasons of the world a favor, if you lower your IQ and watch these things, don't talk to us about them. Thank you.

   To make all of this worse, it looks like they've made another one of these stinkers. The 10th Friday the 13th. Only, this time, they have a budget! Check out the site for Jason X. Looks like it's to be more of the same; Blood, gore, slime, blood, half clothed teen age girls, blood - and our old buddy, Mr. Voorhees. Did I mention blood? From the previews it would appear that El Jason gets some type of RoboCop-esque cybornetic upgrade - joy! Now, he's evil, immortal, undead and computerized. If he held my student loans, he would be all of my fears combined!

   Let me be the first to predict (waves hand over crystal ball) Dark Horse Comics will do a Preditor vs. Jason comic, or Alien vs. Jason or Batman vs. Jason, or Preditor, Alien and Batman vs. Jason. Whatever. Anyone wanna bet?

   Oh, by the by, according to the Friday the 13th site, all the rumors have come true - it looks like there will be a Jason vs. Freddy on the big screen. Of the Terrible Trio of Jason, Michael and Freddy - The Nightmare on Elmstreet movies have been the most creative and enjoyable. I can't believe they are sinking this low. The horror, the horror ...

Posted by: Jericho - 04/03/02 - 11:03 pm -

Crisitunity

Just why are we here and why do we put up with the bullshit? That is a question I have often asked myself. I am going to go out on a limb and guess that this is what Sartre meant when he spoke of existential angst. The fundamental problem with the universe is the inherent meaninglessness of it.

Now, this is usually the point at which someone of some religious bent or another shoves a book at me and explains that all I really need to know about life, the universe and everything is contained within. Please save us both the trouble. If there is a supreme being, I have seen no evidence of it. And shoving a book at me with the declaration that it is the word of some supreme being does not count as proof. I could equally claim any book to be the word of gods. That don't make it so.

So, what is this little mess we call life about? Nothing. And everything. If you are looking for some preset meaning and path sent from above, you aren't going to find it. Yet, still, this is our experience. When it is unpleasant, we suffer. Meaninglessness is unpleasant. So, what to do?

That is up to us. The question is, are we going to take life by the throat, or are we going to let it take us by ours? I spent just slightly over a year in a job I despised. I hated waking up. I made my life and the lives of those around me miserable. It was sheer luck that I was laid off. In the month of so I have had away from that hellhole, I have had the time to realize just how far off-track my life had become.

Sadly, it is unlikely I will ever have quite the rockstar, best-selling author life I dream of. But that does not mean I can't use my talents and interests to build a life that has meaning for me. That is why I am accepting a sales job that I most likely will not care for. But what it offers will make it worthwhile. That is tuition reimbursement. As soon as that kicks in, I will be signing up for programming classes, something I have long wanted to do. And I have plans, which I shan't be discussing here right away. But should they come off, I will be a damn sight better off, not just financially, but personally, thus giving my life the meaning I need to make this meaningless universe tolerable.

A Second Helping

   If you haven't yet, read my entry below - then come on back up here. Did you read the comments? No? Go read the comments, too. Are you up to speed now? Good!

   Ever wonder who Laura is? She comments out here a lot. Well, she's Max's wife. We should probably put pictures of our wives out here, since they are a part of this. I write about Steph a lot, but she never comments. Laura is out here a lot, but Max rarely writes about her. If we did have pictures, Laura would be the one with her top off petting a german shepard. Steph would be the red head looking like she hates having her picture taken.

   Anyway, Laura, in the comments to the last entry, answered some of my questions in that entry. I asked why I wrote journals and blogs on the internet and she said:

   Okay, it's fun. I like doing it. I like HTML and I like to write and I like to get angry and I like to try to be funny. She's also right that, yes, I would love someone "important" to find this, think I and/or Max were funny and smart and witty, then whisk us off to Writer Land where they give you an office and a typewriter and expect you to produce the literature of the day while they feed you steak and pay you big, fat checks.

   However, this is never, ever going to happen.

   Even if I am funny. Even if I am witty. Even when I have a usable spell checker - this wonderful little fantasy will never bloody well occur! Why? Well, first off I'm not that bleeding funny or witty or smart. Further there are thousands of other writers out there who are funny, who are smart and who can touch type. They have paid their dues and they will get whisked off to Writer Land.

   As for me, I am late to bed, I will hopefully get up early enough for the gym tomorrow so that I can lose the weight that is surely, slowly strangling my heart. Then shit, shower and onto a colon-crushing bus that will whisk me off to Lawyer Land. There I will resume my role as a tiny cog in a multi-billion dollar machine. There I will toil with a voicemail system programmed by retarded, thumbless trouser stains. I will help high school dropouts who don't understand how to use a telephone much less this multi-million dollar voicemail system. I will use my limited web programming abilities to put together pages that take ten people and six months to approve for publication to other people who won't read them anyway. On Tuesdays I get to train people to use the phone and voicemail systems, people who have a law degree but can't figure out that hitting the Transfer button twice will not make it happen faster and who probably shouldn't be trusted with sharpened pencils. Then, after a day like this, I get back on the bus, go home, eat like a bunny, play a video game for a few hours just for the mental escape then off to bed so that I can repeat this process over and over again. The best part is - I'm only thirty - only thirty five more years and I can retire!

   So, I'm at a point where I am questioning why I'm doing this. Why I'm doing ANY of this. Do I have the right to be bitter? Do I have the right to be angry? As a wise man once said, "Sadly, no."

Posted by: Jericho - 03/31/02 - 11:05 pm -

Getting Real

   So far, we've dished out a lot of BS here.
   What's really going on? Who are we really? Do you really care? Why do you come here every day - all 5 or so of you? Are you amused? Are you entertained? Do you feel you are sharing something with us?
   Why do we do this crap? This isn't my first thing like this. I started off with an on-line journal that I rarely touched. Look hard enough on the internet and you will still find it. I might move it soon to another place and begin working on it again - but why? Why do I feel this need to get out here and put myself on display? What sick part of my diseased brain demands that I get out here and talk to you?
   It's not actuually like I'm writing to you. I didn't write this for you. I wrote this for me - made it sound like I'm writing to an audience. An audience of one. I've written this way for years now. I started off in grade school, writing in a paper journal. I've been doing this crap all my life.
   The funny thing is that when I go back and read those old notebooks, I'm always saying and feeling pretty much the same things, the same things I feel now. How insignificant I am. My hopes and dreams that will never come true. How I don't write enough. How I can't spell to save my life. How I don't want to grow up and get old. The only difference is those notebooks were more honest. I had a feeling I would be the only one ever reading them, at least for years I would be the only one. I wrote it like it was, called it like I saw it. Here, I edit myself. I don't say anything that will offend any individual who might happen to read this. I pick on institutions and puplic figures and groups of people. I never say the things about individuals that I want to say. This isn't real. This isn't honest. It's a play for your entertainment. Are you entertained?
   Why are we out here doing this? Are we changing the world? Are we adding anything to the progress of the human race? Does this get you though your day? Am I just talking to hear myself talk, writing to see my words in print? Do you give a damn about this? Why do you care? Don't you have anything better to do? Don't I? What is this all about anyway? Is this reality?

Posted by: Jericho - 03/30/02 - 6:19 pm -

Max Make Fire

As I mentioned in a previous post, I have been using some of the ample free time unemployment has granted me to play around with MySQL. Today, I built my first database. Its titular purpose is to list all of the Garfield books on the bookshelf next to my computer. Its real purpose was just to go through the motions of setting up a basic database.

I must say it is pathetic. The interface is the default CLI interface that comes with MySQL. It has only one entry and is otherwise just plain ugly and useless. And after I built it, I danced across the room like a 400 pound white man with no rhythm in a state of utter ecstasy.

It was one of those moments that reminded me why I became a tech. There is just something way cool about figuring about how to make these horrible little beasts we call computers do something new and interesting. I had all too few of those kinds of moments over the course of my last gig. No doubt, it was the lack of such moments that led to the sort of burned out sensation that actually made me sort of glad when I got laid off.

I really think I need to re-evaluate where I am going career wise. I have often toyed with the idea of ducking out of support/admin work and learning how to program. That is looking more and more like a good idea.

Of course, I still have to get a paycheck. And pretty bloody soon. I think that may not be much of a problem though. I don't want to jinx it like I did last time, but I think I stand a pretty good chance of having a moderately decent job come this time next week. It won't be in the tech feild. What it will be is a low stress straight 40 hours a week that will leave me time to take some programming classes.

We'll see.

The Church is going to Hell

   I don't get this. All of the sudden the media is treating sexual perversion in the Clergy like it's a new thing. Are they kidding? STL is a very catholic town and while I was growing up, it seemed every year or so some kid came forward who had gotten molested by a priest. That's just one city!
   I read recently that an "expert" felt that pedophilia among catholic priests was no more common than pedophilia among average married men. This amuses me - because I don't see any other organised religions that allow married men in their clergy who have to have their leaders stand up and say they will stomp out this sinfulness in their ranks.
   Let's be honest here, it is not natural or normal to expect a healthy male to go his full life never having sex. So, I would think that you must question the mental health of a man who thinks it's a good idea to follow this path. Sure, they may hear a calling - but there are also people that hear voices and speak to inanimate objects. Would you want one of them leading your religious community? The fact here is that a male who decides to give up sex to honor God comes with a few screws pre-loosened.
   Maybe I'm not entirely with it myself - but when I read The Book, right up in the front there, it says "Be Fruitful and Multiply." No where in that tome does it state "God said His priests need to be all males and never touch girls." So, I'm looking at this and this seems to be a pretty easy ruling from Big G. It doesn't say "Be Fruitful and Multiply - except for the clergy." He says it with no stipulations. I'm thinking that the priesthood, heck all the sex starved religious orders, are a big sin - they go against the word of God.
   Now, I don't know if you know, but at one point married men could be priests. But, during the middle ages, when ownership of land passed from father to son, the Church lost a bunch of holdings due to the fact that land moved from priests and bishops to their kids. So, this whole celebacy thing is due to moldy, greedy, out-dated ideas from a millienia or so ago - not religous piety.
   It is my estimate that if The Church plans to exist beyond the 21st Century, they are going to need to modernize a bit. Allow women to be in the priesthood, allow married clergy. Open their eyes to divorce - there is already groundwork for it in Mosaic Law. Read the Old Testament, guys! A few other tweaks wouldn't hurt, either. Remember Vatican II? Well, it might be time for Vatican III or VI or whatever. Pope J Daddy, if you're reading this, lead your flock into the 20th century, at the very least.

Posted by: Jericho - 03/27/02 - 9:59 pm -

© 2002 by the Gentlemen known as Max and Jericho