We love science and technology

And we love this issue of Wired magazine because it talks about “The 33 Things That Make Us Crazy.” Their list includes the things we all love to hate, stuff like traffic, junk mail, spam filters, batteries, credit cards, and tomatoes. Tomatoes make the list because they have a tasteless quality about them that belies their tasty appearance.

But the one that caught my eye was Booze. After reading it, you might want to have a few to forget words like anti-diuretic, glucose, neurotransmitters, serotonin, and dopamine. Spelling and pronouncing these words alone are enough to drive us to drink.

We are also in love with that respected journal Scientific American. SA’s special issue Mind: Behavior – Brain Science – Insights features an article Why We Kiss: Secrets that Lips Reveal. The cover is illustrated with two sets of healthy lips attached to a couple of perfect computer-enhanced faces about to engage in a passionate kiss.

Like the Wired story, SA’s is also steeped in the chemical effects of an outside force on the brain. In Wired’s case, the force is booze whereas SA concentrates on lips. SA sprinkles its article with vaguely romantic language, like tactile sensations, neural messages, and “a cocktail of chemicals.” Wired’s lingo is clearly designed to give the reader a linguistic tongue-ache. Take your pick.

And then we have the Gavarino and the Gavarina conducting scientific experiments in outer space. Elaine at FCJ scoops us all with her report about the two free-floating inamoratas on a weightless flight from Moffett Field. This gives meaning to the label some have tagged Gavo’s mayoral accomplishments with: a little on the light side.

Now that we fully understand science and technology, we can have a lot of fun analyzing the interactions between booze and kisses. Gotta be a connection.

Sex trumps everything

Mark Twain said the following about the subject over a hundred years ago in his book Letters from the Earth.

“…the human being…naturally places sexual intercourse far and away above all other joys…The very thought of it excites him; opportunity sets him wild; in this state he will risk life, reputation, everything–to make good that opportunity and ride it to the overwhelming climax. From youth to middle age all men and all women prize copulation above all other pleasures combined…”

No kidding.

I wonder if copulation includes politicians screwing the public.

Like, when a politician brands someone a traitor and wins an election or helps enact a law raising taxes on the lower classes, is the climax kind of like a male ejaculation or a female G-Spot orgasm?

These are merely philosophical matters, though. SFBG is into real-world sex. It just released the results of its 2008 Sex Poll.

I have a hunch that some of the respondents fudged their answers. A few of the stats seem to contradict Mark Twain and human nature.

For example, one question was “What gets you in the mood?”

An overwhelming number of respondents named booze of one kind or another and/or some other mind-altering stuff like coke and weed.

I didn’t take this survey but if I had, I would simply have written in “an attractive (to me), willing, able, and substance-free partner.”

My theory is simple. Why would I want to numb the pleasure of it all? Contrary to popular belief, none of the named substances enhances sex. Besides, when a person wakes the morning after, wouldn’t he or she want to remember the experience sans black holes in the brain?

The named substances, rather than enhancing the pleasure of sex, actually lower inhibitions. That translates into the courage to approach a potential partner. In other words, many people think about sex but are abject cowards when it comes right down to actually initiating and participating in it without assistance.

How does Mark Twain factor into the equation? Two possibilities in my mind. He was probably talking about people’s fantasies. Humans dream a lot about sex.

Or, he was probably drunker than a skunk when he wrote it. Grandiose hyperbole is often a side-effect of mornings-after when we get together and brag about things we don’t remember.

Add On: I just wrote this post to see how many people would click on the site as a response to the word “sex” in the title.

Fried Day

When I was a paid apparatchik instead of a volunteer alien spacecraft spotter, we used to sit around and dream up funny names for this, that, or the other things. We once created names for the days of the week we believed described those days better than the traditional names.

My favorite name was Fried Day. This was the day we scurried around cleaning up work we had left undone over the past week. Mostly, we would pass our unfinished work along under the tag “For your review and comment,” or some other equally inane label, knowing full well that the damned thing would fall on our desks again on Moans Day, the day we suffered the residues of Fried Day, Sad day, and Some Day.

As mid-afternoon of Fried day rolled around, we’d begin to get antsy, glancing at the clock every few seconds, checking another clock to make sure the other one was right, asking the secretary for the time of day, and in general making a nuisance of ourselves.

Finally, when the clock hit five p.m., we’d bail out and head for our favorite dive where we’d proceed to get fried. We’d endure our hangovers on Sad Day, but head for “our” dive later in the afternoon. The following day, we’d assemble at “our” place again and promise ourselves that Some Day we’d grow up as we downed a few and joined in a Karate version of “Tequila Sunrise.”

Some Day was always a day away.

Well, aren’t January people special?

…they were born in the month of January.

Some were even born on January 24^th. Neil Diamond and John Belushi were born on this date.

And some more, singer Ray Stevens, Princess Caroline of Monaco, and Mary Lou Retton.

Other important events occurred on January 24th

Gold was discovered in California on January 24^th, 1848.

Canned beer was sold for the first time on January 24^th, 1935, in Virginia.

There must be a connection between gold and beer. Bears thinking about.

In conclusion

If you were born on January 24th, you are in pretty good company.

Now aren’t you special?

Listening to the candidates on Saturday

Sitting down for a bite, we happened to catch a few Levitra commercials interrupted periodically by Hillary speaking from Reno.

All I remember about Reno is the night I got so drunk I couldn’t find my way out of the casino. I could only stumble around and around among the slots until I accidentally recognized the door.

Then, I wandered this way and that before finding my car on a side street and tumbling into the backseat whereupon I promptly passed out, bumped awake the next morning as my buddy continued our drive to Boise.

That’s about the way I feel right now—on the verge of passing out from too much political b.s.

Hillary, Obama, Hillary, Obama. Obama, Hillary. What to do, what to do?

Here’s my usual strategy. Endorse no one until the winner become crystal clear. Then jump on the bandwagon and crow about how I called it right from the start.

If I were a bettor, I’d put my money on Hil. Americans want change, but they define real change within very narrow margins. Hillary is predictable. Barrack is like a loose cannon. Bush prefers Hil, and between now and the Democratic National Convention in Denver, August 25-28, he and his minions are going to unleash paranoiac hell against Barack.

The country is already in a state of abject xenophobia. We jump at the sight of our shadows and start at the sight of foreigners in general, all of whom are terrorists in our minds. Barack threatens the status quo. His very presence threatens to destroy the sense of security that collective fear has engendered within us.

Hil, on the other hand, isn’t going to throw away our national security blanket. She’s predictable, a member of the Democratic Wing of the Republican Party.

When push comes to shove, the few Democrats who select their party’s candidate will prefer familiarity, even in the form of a female.

Felice Navidad

That means “Merry Christmas” doesn’t it? Whatever. It’s one of my favorite songs. Some others—Jingle Bell Rock, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, Santa Claus is Coming to Town, and the one about Santa being up on the rooftops or something like that.

But my all time favorite is the First Noel because I was forced against my will in the 6^th grade to recite the song while a Christmas pageant unfolded behind me. The pressure was too great. I forgot most of the lines. But the song stuck and today, my early humiliation has become a treasured memory.

These days, Christmas is a time to celebrate shopping malls and internet catalogues. And, of course, the corner liquor store, as pints, fifths, and quarts of booze rapidly disappear from the shelves. Every day of the year is perilous, but we can expect a surge in drinking during the holiday frenzy with a concomitant increase in booze-related mishaps. We no longer worship Jesus but a double shot of VO.

To give you an idea of booze-induced insanity, I once consumed enough rum balls at a booze-free on-premises office party to feel a buzz. And then, fully primed, headed out for happy hour, which lasted until the bar closed.

If you want to read some startling statistics, check MADD’s website. Here’s a very brief summary:

• Last year, almost 18,000 people died in alcohol-related traffic crashes.
• Three in every ten Americans will be in a drunken driving accident some time in their lives.
• In 2003, there were an estimated 159 million alcohol-impaired trips.
• In 2001, about one person per minute was injured in an alcohol-related crash.

Given the prevalence of alcohol-impaired people on the roads at any given moment, the miracle may be that more people aren’t killed.

And given that several American icons are constantly in the news over their own drunken driving and subsequent escape from the consequences, it’s no wonder young Americans drink and drive. As much as we celebrate the myth of our individuality, we are merely followers in real life. And that can be dangerous.

A recent highly-publicized drunken-driving death was front page news in Hawaii this morning. The Honolulu Advertiser reported that a well-known playwright had a blood-alcohol level three times the legal limit when she drove the wrong way on a freeway at 3 a.m. and rammed a car head on, killing herself and seriously injuring the driver of the other car.

One wonders about the motivation of this woman until it dawns on us that she was simply too drunk to have a motive. Booze robs the brain of reason.

How do I know these things? I’ve driven drunk more times than I can count and been involved in several accidents when I was so drunk I didn’t even realize what had happened until a passenger informed me that we had just been involved in a head on collision. The other driver left the scene. He or she was obviously drunker than me. The accident didn’t teach me anything.

With boozing so prevalent, somewhere, someday, someone reading this will be killed in a drunken driving accident. You’re safer in Iraq than you are on the roads in America, especially during the season of merriment.

As I write, there are seven more days until Christmas. Some of you may prefer another name, Hanukah, perhaps, or the generic Holiday Season. It’s each person’s call. The meaning of the season can be summed up in many ways. I prefer “sobriety on Earth and good will toward men and women.”

You might think about trying my own approach to a sober lifestyle. For more than twenty years, my preferred drink has been a double Diet Coke on the rocks. I’ll take a caffeine habit over a booze habit any day.

The President’s alcohol addiction

Check this link for an ABC story headlined Bush: ‘I Doubt I’d be Standing Here if I Hadn’t Quit Drinking Whiskey.’

He goes on to say …”beer and wine and all that.” And he reveals that he quit drinking over 20 years ago cold turkey.

After I read Martha Radatz’s article, I thought about his remarks. The parallels between his story of alcohol abuse and mine, and millions of other Americans, are startling, even down to his reasons for leaving a self-destructive life style.

The difference is that none of us ever became President of the United States and never will. Even so, there is absolutely no question that our decisions improved the quality of life all around us.

Does Bush’s confession change my opinion of his presidency? No. The differences between someone’s private life and his or her capabilities and competence can be miles apart. In Bush’s case, he is a good man for having enhanced the lives of his own family and for instilling a ray of hope in a teen who confessed her struggle to break her addiction. The President, whether we admit it or not, whether we like him or not, showed great compassion toward this young girl.

But he’s a classic case of someone who has risen far above his Level of Incompetence. It’s unfortunate that his compassion hasn’t extended to the 3,000,000 or more children abused every year in our country. If only he would push for ironclad legislation to punish child abusers, our country could perhaps then be called “a compassionate country.”

And if only he would end this insane war in Iraq. Bush seems unable to escape logic-tight thinking. In the “logic tight compartment” thought mechanism we all learned about in Psych 101, everything is a subject in and unto itself. There are millions of dots, but none are ever connected. Reasoning thus occurs within a million tiny self-contained bubbles. This may help explain how a person can be kind in one case and cruel in another.

I sense that trait about Bush even as I commend his encouraging words to that young girl. Am I guilty of logic tight thinking? Maybe. But then again, I would hope an American president would possess more brains than me. God! I hope so. If not, we may be in for a bumpy ride.