Reflections.

I'm listening to the saddest and most beautiful song ever recorded: "Go or Go Ahead" by Rufus Wainwright. If everyone heard this song, there would be peace in the world.

My wife is watching "March of the Penguins." I tried, but couldn't handle it. Too much death.

It makes me sad to see these creatures go to such pains to keep their young alive. They express genuine sadness when their chicks die. Yet I belong to a species that takes life for granted. 1.5 million unborn slaughtered each year...murders and rapes occurring by the thousands...people being executed in the name of peaceful religions...wars being waged with innumerable soldiers killed or maimed each day.

I was writing "Who's News" today and was going to cynically compare a Black Eyed Peas song, "My Humps," to a Maya Angelou poem. Basically I wanted to stress how hip-hop and poetry are both crap.

Now, a couple weeks ago a columnist at the Stillwater Gazette wrote about how she attended the Gwen Stefani concert, and Black Eyed Peas opened. The columnist felt very out of place among 15,000 10-year olds singing along to "My Humps."

Bear in mind that "My Humps" is an homage to the singer's breasts, but that's not the most astounding part. Here's a line from "My Humps" by Black Eyed Peas:

Well mix your milk with my cocoa puffs, Milky, milky cocoa puffs Mix your milk with my cocoa puffs, milky, milky riiiiiiight.

Am I misreading this, or is this about titty-fucking? I swear to God, this is about a guy shooting his load on a chick's chest. Now that's...art!

Forgive my blunt language, but sometimes you have to call it like it is. The Black Eyed Peas have a hit on their hands with "My Humps," a song that praises titty fucking. Does your teenager (or younger) have a copy of this song? Do they know the lyrics? Are you comfortable with your budding youngster pounding their fist in the air singing about titty-fucking?

People say that society doesn't really change. Hell, the Beatles caused quite a stir with "I Wanna Hold Your Hand," right? Same thing, right?

I don't think it's the same thing. Not at all. And what really gets my goat is that it's my side of the moral aisle that's accused of shoving its beliefs down everyone's throats. Well, excuse me, but my side isn't advocating titty-fucking on the Billboard charts.

We are so...fucking...doomed. And not a moment too soon. I beg you all, please: stop giving talentless people like the Black Eyed Peas your hard-earned money.

Buy the new Darkness CD instead, "One Way Ticket to Hell and Back." I still don't know if they're a joke or totally serious, but they fucking rock.

Yesterday was my "final" in my Minnesota History class. It consisted of a 20-minute group presentation. Our subject was the infamous murders that occurred at the Glensheen Mansion in Duluth, Minnesota, back in the 70's.

We were told by the instructor that we wouldn't have points deducted if we waivered on time by a "couple of minutes."

My group rehearsed like crazy, and the night before the presentation had it at exactly 19 1/2 minutes. Accounting for gaffs and technical problems, I was confident that we'd be right on.

And we were. And out of seven groups, only one other group pulled it off. I was stunned that the average time of the other groups was well over a half hour. One group, unbelievably, spoke for forty minutes, showed an eight-minute video, then spoke for five more minutes.

I don't know who I was more upset with: the groups, for not adhering to the established standards, or the instructor for not standing up when the groups surpassed 25 minutes and saying "Thank you, that's enough: you fail."

People began trickling out of the classroom at 1:15 (the class officially ends at 1:00). One of my groupmates said that wasn't very respectful. I told him that what would have been respectful would have been for everyone to stick to the 20 minute guideline.

Standards, everyone. Standards. Whatever happened to them? I guess if 20 minutes is good, 50 are better.

Anyway, my pal Tu s Tin (and I still don't know what that means) has some very thoughtful posts up at her blog, Outside the Box. I really enjoy her writing.

Wow, another record. From penguins to titty-fucking to the Darkness to public speaking to Outside the Box. Just another example of the type of shit that's bound to covet the Admin Worm blog the coveted Blog of the Year award from the Twin Cities' official left-wing rag, Shitty Pages.

Ha!

Oh, by the way. Al Franken was interviewed in today's edition of the Minneapolis Star Tribune, and it was a hard-hitting interview indeed. Franken is considering running for senate, and here is what I gathered are the two planks of his platform:

• He's not George Bush.
• He's not George Bush.

A time-honored winning strategy for the Democrats. Worked wonders for John fucking Kerry. It makes me so, so sad that people will blindly throw their votes behind people like Al Franken and Hillary Clinton with no earthly clue what they stand for.

Mind you, I haven't lapsed back into Republican shill mode. By and large they're all worthless, whether they sport a "D" or an "R" behind their name. No environmentalist is truly an environmentalist. Witness former President Clinton, bashing George Bush for not signing onto the Kyto treaty. What the fuck has Bill Clinton done to curb his own raping of the earth's resources? Does he still travel by limo? Still fly in a private jet? Does he live in a mansion? Of course, he was never one to lead by example, but please: why can't people see through hypocrisy?

Maybe a Who's News tomorrow. We'll see if I can pull myself out of this Black Eyed Peas induced funk.