It would be inexcusable for the writers of Excuse Me, Is That Your Blog to ignore an event taking place in our beloved DC that includes two of our favorite things: hating on the government and penis references. Of course I am talking about the infamous “teabagging” rally at the White House today, in which hundreds of disgruntled taxpayers tried to recreate the Boston Tea Party, minus Sam Adams, Native American costumes, and a worthwhile cause.
The demonstration went off about as smoothly as one can expect any teabagging to be executed. Protestors planned to dump tea into the Potomac River and Lafayette Square, only to learn that such shenanigans are in fact illegal. (Frankly, I think the filthy Potomac could benefit from the antioxidant quality of tea, but I guess overly caffeinated fish would be somewhat frightening.) Teabaggers were also supposed to gather in front of the Treasury Building (Hey Tim. Tax day must be rough for you. Call me!) to listen to the inspiring words of delusional presidential candidate and Borat victim, Alan Keyes. However they didn’t foresee that disrupting traffic in the middle of a work day in the nation’s capital might require a permit, and failed to obtain one.
Despite the logistical setbacks, and the miserable weather, the teabaggers soldiered on and held a rally in front of the White House. Unfortunately the protesters couldn’t even get this part right, because one overly zealous malcontent threw a box of tea onto the White House lawn. This of course prompted the Secret Service, concerned that first dog Bo would get into the stash and leave them a runny mess to clean, to disperse the crowd. The utter failure of the occasion did not dampen the protestors’ spirits. Humorously, Rebecca Wales, local organizer of the teabaggers claimed, "This is the largest grass-roots demonstration in history.” Oh honey, you don’t get out much, do you?
Aside from the fact that teabaggers poorly planned and managed their premiere event, their very purpose is questionable at best. Ostensibly, the protestors are decrying irresponsible government spending and taxation. Yet they are mostly comprised of conservatives who supported Bush, the drunkest sailor of a spender in American history (he would have fallen off the boat at the tea party). I’m a libertarian, and I hate taxes as much as any of these teabaggers. But the thing is, Obama has CUT taxes. I am by no means blown away by the additional $20 in my last 2 paychecks, but it’s better than nothing. I’m sure the protestors benefited from the extra Jackson in purchasing posterboard and markers for their fancy rally signs. And even if Obama is putting a Boston Harbor full of taxpayer money into the stimulus package, at least he is funding laudable projects instead of an unnecessary war. In fact, it is conceivable that the government will reap returns on investments such as renewable energy, thus further lowering the burden to taxpayers.
So teabag away, Obama haters. You’ll ultimately be the ones on the wrong side of history looking like, to use another popular slang word, douchebags.
Like many businesses in this dismal economy, Metro is strapped for cash. Even with recent fare hikes and a surge in new riders due to high fuel costs, Metro’s financial situation is bleak. The deluge of tourons that descended upon our nation’s capital in January for The Obama’s inauguration, or the Cherry Blossom festival this month, may have provided a temporary boost in profits, but to survive in the long-term Metro will have to find another source of funding. I have a solution that will not only provide revenue, it will improve the quality of commuting for the half million riders in the DC area that depend on public transportation: Fine people who play their Ipods too loudly and people who wear too much cologne and/or perfume. These ignorant, inconsiderate, and quite frankly, disgusting people should be targeted with the same tenacity with which we are encouraged to report unattended bags.
Granted, the Metro brings out the worst in even the most sophisticated of men and women. We clamor and claw at one another to get on a certain train, knowing full well that another will follow approximately 2 minutes later. We curse at the oblivious tourists (and sometimes denizens) who stand in the left lane, jam the turnstiles because they can’t figure out how to put their damn fare card in the machine, and meander about aimlessly on the concourses, blocking us from the path to catch our connecting trains. But I believe that these reactions are a simple byproduct of the workaholic, competitive nature of DC residents. Once we actually board the train, we return to relative civility. We open up the Washington Post or a New York Times bestseller, and fall back into the comfort of our own invisible pods of self-absorption. Unfortunately, there are several among us who threaten the peaceful harmony that flourishes within the Metro trains, often making the atmosphere within the cars as chaotic and unpleasant as the struggle getting to the cars.
The first type of offender is the person who plays his/her Ipod at an unreasonably loud volume. They are called “personal” music devices for a reason: they are meant to be enjoyed privately without imposing on other people. One is not supposed to fire thunderous blasts of T.I. or Nickelback into the ears of other passengers. That’s right folks, as if it weren’t bad enough that I am distracted from my reading by the strident sounds from peoples’ headphones, the music is invariably in poor taste. But to be fair, and to set a good example, I believe that all Ipod/Walkman listeners should refrain from noise pollution and keep their music to themselves. It is disruptive to people trying to read, relax after a hard day at work, or even carry on a simple conversation. The other day I read the same paragraph 4 times because I could not concentrate with the shrill reverberations bursting forth from some asshole’s headphones. It was as if I had a boombox on my shoulder, but without the breakdancing. More importantly, noise pollution is pernicious to the health of others. In this respect it is similar to second-hand smoke. As a society we have agreed that if a person wants to contract lung cancer, then that is his or her right as an American citizen. But that person should not force others to bear the negative consequences of his or her unhealthy behavior. Likewise, if a person wants to render oneself deaf, he or she is entitled to do so. But that person should not destroy the hearing of others in the process. It is literally painful to bear the monstrous sounds sometimes; I can almost feel my ears bleeding. Noise pollution is a threat to peace of mind and the stability of the auditory senses.
The second type of Metro menace is the excessive cologne/perfume wearer. On what planet is it appealing to ward off a full-front assault on the olfactory system? A subtle dab of cologne, perfume, scented lotion, etc is acceptable, perhaps even attractive. But to douse oneself in a pungent substance like one bastes a turkey for Thanksgiving dinner is absolutely repulsive. It is literally nauseating, especially for people like me with allergies and asthma who have heightened sensitivity to strong, chemical-based odors. I had to leave a train last week because I was sick to my stomach, faint, and suffering a headache from one of these buffoons. It was as if the man swam 75 laps in an Olympic-sized swimming pool filled with Polo. I’ve had this happen on planes and elevators before, but the air pressure and filtering systems generally eliminate the noxious effects on planes, and elevator rides are short. Neither of these mitigating factors applies to the Metro system, at least not to us poor schleps who have to travel from Takoma Park to Arlington on a regular basis. I can’t imagine how one could completely lack awareness and/or concern for the fact that he or she is inducing nausea in fellow passengers. Olfactory pollution is a serious offense, and should be punished as such.
So what is Metro to do to thwart the reckless behavior of noise and olfactory polluters? It should do the same thing the federal government does with manufacturers that pollute the air and water: Tax Them! This solution is based on the simple economic concept of externalities. A firm takes its production costs and consumer preferences into consideration when it produces goods, ideally reaching a market equilibrium in which supply equals demand. But the firm does not account for the social costs of manufacturing which harm consumers, such as pollution. Therefore the actual consumer demand, and thus the socially optimum equilibrium, is lower than the privately optimum level. To make up for this difference – the externality imposed by the firm – the government charges a tax that reflects the difference between the socially and privately optimal prices. The tax revenues are then distributed back to the consumers via improved government services or tax cuts, which compensates for the noxious pollution they have to endure. Meanwhile, the burden of the tax deters firms from producing excessive pollution. Everyone is happy and the world is a better place.
Similarly, Metro should tax noise and olfactory polluters for the social costs they impose on other passengers. The tax should be equal to the difference between the socially and privately optimal levels of sound and smell. In an ideal situation, the offenders would pay these taxes at the time they purchase their cologne, perfume, or Ipod. However there is no way to predict a priori who will “pollute” and who will use these products responsibly, and we cannot rely on polluters to self-identify. Therefore I propose that Metro fine those who wear too much cologne and perfume, and those who listen to their Ipods too loudly. The fine should be equal to the average fare per rider * the average number of riders per train during high traffic hours (Approximately 8 AM-9PM). This is the fairest way to force polluters to take into consideration the comfort and welfare of other passengers. The process I envision is simple, though it will require some upfront costs. Here is the plan:
1) Metro assigns a “pollution policeman” for every train in service during high traffic hours.
2) The pollution policeman conducts regular “rounds”, patrolling up and down the center aisle of each car to listen and smell for polluters
3) If the pollution policeman can distinctly smell cologne or perfume, or hear noise from any headphones, he or she issues a ticket to the offender and takes a photograph of the offender.
4) The offender pays the ticket within 30 days, after which the fine increases and/or penalties are imposed.
5) Metro keeps a record of offenders with photographs and payment records. If any person has not paid within the 30 day window, Metro pollution policeman are authorized to order the offender to leave the train at the next stop, and alerts all other Metro policeman to look out for the offender and prevent him or her from riding any train. The offender will not be allowed to ride any Metro train until fines are paid.
6) The offender can appeal in a process similar to the traffic court process, but only with credible witnesses that testify under oath.
Of course this plan is not perfect, and like any public policy, there will be people who try to circumvent the law. But it is the most feasible and fair way to promote responsible and considerate commuting in DC. It will require hiring dozens of new staff, but it will also generate a considerable amount of income for Metro. After an initial round of reliable enforcement, the negative behavior will decrease and Metro pollution policemen can simply serve as a deterrent to maintain order in the Metro system. Eventually, Metro will be able to cut back on the pollution police force. At that time, the economy will have improved and/or Metro will have increased ridership and pollution policeman can be reassigned to expand services. After an initial surge in revenue from fines, income will decrease and plateau once people understand that Metro is serious about enforcing the pollution laws. However, the decrease in additional income will be offset by the corresponding increase in ridership, as commuters will be more likely to ride the train knowing the atmosphere is pleasant, as well as the adjustments in staff.
We the commuters of DC, in order to form a more perfect Metro, must take back our trains and rid them of unnecessary noise and smells. I urge you to contact your city councilperson immediately, write to Metro, and melodramatically demonstrate disapproval toward auditory and olfactory polluters. YES WE CAN go to work and return home headache and nausea free!
Rarely can an event as historic as yesterday’s inauguration of Barack Obama be summed up with one word. But this one is easy: clusterfuck. Never have I been a part of such a piss-poorly managed event in my entire life.
Y'all are crazy: A rebuttal by a crotchety old cynic, aka Sober Pundit
While Turk and El Braixan foolishly ventured into the Arctic weather and smothering throng of tourons to catch a glimpse of Obama on a jumbotron, I watched the proceedings unfold from the comfort of my friends' couch in Sherman Oaks. That's right folks, I escaped to Los Angeles to avoid the aforementioned hot mess. Or shall I say, "cold mess?" As my colleagues waited in unbearably long lines to be ceremoniously examined by security guards, or to take a piss, I relaxed in my pajamas, sipping freshly brewed coffee and making goofy faces at my friends' adorable 14-month-old son. Sure they got to experience history in the making, which is the same reason the damn fools took a cab from Arlington to the White House on Election Night to drunkenly belt the National Anthem with some fratboys from GW. But there are few things an old fart (I'm 29) like me despises more than crowds, cold weather, and lack of immediate access to a clean bathroom. Nosiree, I'd rather stay home and watch the President-elect and Chief Justice fumble the oath of office close up on a Television screen, with Wolf Blitzer and that prematurely grey homosexual man explaining everything in detail so I don't have to constantly ask, "What did he say? Who's that tramp dressed like a woman for hire?"* If'n I were unfortunate enough to be stuck in the District for this tomfoolery, I would brandish my cane at the audience assembled on the National Mall and scream, "GET OFF MY LAWN!"**
*Turns out it was Dr. Jill Biden
**GET OFF MY LAWN will premiere soon as part of an ongoing series on Excuse Me, is that your Blog? Our senior correspondent, Sober Pundit, will lament all that is wrong with "kids these days" and how their parents raised them improperly.
While America took a giant step forward this week by electing its first African-American president, three states took a giant step back. Voters in Arizona, Florida, and even the liberal bastion of California approved ballot measures amending their constitutions to ban same-sex marriage. How one can resolve the cognitive dissonance of voting for Obama but against equality for LGBT people, as many in California and Florida clearly did, is beyond me. Conservatives forced these repressive initiatives to the polls using euphemisms such as “protecting marriage” and “saving the children”. But let’s face it, what it really amounts to is fear.
I don’t know why so many people in America still hate gay people. I suspect that a great deal of these bigots have issues surrounding their own sexuality, and project that anger onto innocent homosexuals who simply want to be recognized as human beings. They are scared of themselves; therefore they are scared of gays. The others are simply ignorant. Having never been exposed to the GLBT community in their presumably rural, backwater towns, they have a visceral reaction to the idea of men kissing other men (and you know it’s really only the man on man action that disturbs them, for they probably own several lesbian porno flicks).
Naturally, the proponents of Proposition h8te and the other anti-gay initiatives will not admit that they are motivated by fear. Instead they cultivate fear in regular citizens by making them think that their livelihood is under attack – that the Donna Reed heterosexual marriages of lore are somehow invalidated because Harry met Harry instead of Sally. The right wing fiercely clings to the “sacred institution” of marriage as if it’s a divine relationship beyond reproach. Never mind the fact that over half of marriages end in divorce, and countless others are marred by physical, verbal, and substance abuse, infidelity, financial exploitation, and good old fashioned codependence. They also neglect to mention that marriage is a secular contract recognized by the state for legal purposes. It may be celebrated in a religious ceremony if the couple chooses to do so, but truthfully the only “requirement” for marriage is showing up at city hall to get a license.
So whatever excuses anti-gay people concoct in their twisted efforts to ban gay marriage, the truth of the matter is that they are scared. Instead of doing what most people do when they have a phobia – avoid it or take Xanax – the conservatives march their irrational fears all the way to the Secretary of State. They whine to voters like babies in soiled diapers, expecting to be coddled with prejudiced Constitutional amendments.
Well if we’re going to start passing public policies based on fear and discomfort, then I have an agenda of my own:
1) Ban Ferris Wheels. They are scary. I threw up on my friend once in a Ferris Wheel. She didn’t believe I was afraid of heights. I showed her! No more will these menacing machines of death be a harbinger of spring carnivals. Hoodlums on the Santa Monica Pier will have to knife fight by the Tilt-a-Whirl now.
2) Ban Ski Lifts. Again, being up high in an insecure seat wobbling to and fro is basically my idea of hell. Sorry Aspen, you’re going down.
3) While we’re at it, ban ALL heights. Let’s demolish all buildings above 1 story, and require all new buildings to be no higher. Sure things are going to get tight, and that brings me to my next item.
4) Ban all public gatherings. I am agoraphobic as well as acrophobic (best of both worlds-w00t!). The only words that come to mind when I see more than 5 or 6 people standing together are “stampede” and “infectious disease.”
5) Ban cockroaches. All houses and business must be thoroughly doused by pest control professionals to eradicate all roaches. (Fortunately the buildings will only be one story high at this point.) While the exterminators are at it, they should get the rats too - they are nasty. Cops will be directed to immediately open fire on any of these horrific creatures that happen to survive.
6) Ban Suzuki commercials. That little “zoom zoom” kid creeps me out.
7) Ban clowns. Do I even need to explain this one?
In conjunction with the fear factor is the “eeeew” factor. Some people oppose GLBT rights because they are grossed out by the mere thought of these people expressing their love for one another, despite the fact that the behavior of GLBT folks doesn’t affect them in the slightest. So in this vein, the following things must also be outlawed on account of me finding them disgusting:
1) Muffin topping – 4 years in prison and a $10,000 fine.
2) Farting, nose-picking, and coughing up phlegm – 3 years of forced manual labor and an additional 1 year of community service, preferably in the psych ward of a public hospital.
3) Old people sex - $5,000,000 fine (mostly to pay my therapy bills) and mandatory participation in a 12-step program.
4) Mullets – The death penalty.
I hope that by listing these examples, I have demonstrated the logical fallacy and ridiculousness of passing public policy based on irrational fears. I suggest that the people who opposes gay marriage take a good look at themselves and figure out what is really bothering them, and work on those issues instead of taking out their fear on innocent people. For when the government starts interfering in the private lives of its citizens simply because some voters oppose certain lifestyles, there is no telling where the slippery slope will lead. And THAT my friends, is something to be afraid of.
Consider all the recent economic turmoil. Banks being bailed out. Wall Street crashing. Dogs and cats living together. Mass hysteria. Sound familiar? Sounds like 1929 to me. Eerily, it's like, exactly 79 years since the Great Depression. And you know what they say about the number 79. Oh, you don't? Nevermind. Anyway, all this talk about ECONOMIC CRISIS and FINANCIAL COLLAPSE got us thinkin' - what would another Great Depression look like in 2008?
First off, it wouldn't simply be called the Second Great Depression. Our generation is much too clever for that (Iraq War? War on Terrorism? Doesn't get much snappier than that!). No, it'd be something witty and uniquely descriptive, something along the lines of Great Depression II: XTREME ULTIMATE DEPRESSION. I can just smell the zipping Fox News graphics. Wolf Blitzer will be fired for devouring Anderson Cooper amidst all the excitement (and also because he sucks).
And just think of all the awful hardships we'll suffer if this thing really does hit rock bottom. There will be bank runs, until people realize all the high-yield online bank accounts they considered to be shrewd investments have simply deleted their websites and disappeared their money into the ether (FDIC-ya!). Left with nowhere to turn but the stack of Euros stashed in their mattresses (converted from dollars after a semester abroad in Europe opened their eyes to the futility of the dollar), people will start to consider Starbucks venti soy lattes a luxury rather than a necessity, and be forced to ration them accordingly. Jilted K Street lobbyists will be forced to drive wheelbarrows full of cash to the cupcake shop in Georgetown for just one shot of icing, and Anne Taylor stores will be looted and ravaged as feral trophy girlfriends revert to their primal instincts in the face of crippling economic hardship (better than having to shop at H&M!). Imagine the GDII:XUD bread lines: scores of self-entitled little hillrats bitching about the lack of low-carb, locally produced, organic handouts while updating their Twitters and Facebook statuses with snarky complaints from their iPhones and Blackberries.
Then there's the sad prospect of all these upstanding citizens foreclosing on their homes and being forced under bridges and into the city as their suburban condos burn down in riotous flames. Forget about the fabled "Purple Line" and "Southeast Waterfront" - there will be no economic development in DC (which sucks, because we were really looking forward to hitting up Bed, Bath and Beyond after Nats games). Picture these new "McCainburghs:" lean-tos made from gore-tex backpacks and camping material, set up next to wifi hotspots (and you thought Tryst's service was slow now!).
The privileged few who manage to retain their off-Columbia Heights rowhouses will have to survive by selling bathtub craft beer (Blue Moonshine). In a poetic reversal of fortune, yuppie couples hoisting oddly-named children in Baby Bjorns will have to join the El Salvadorian immigrants they once hired to build their decks in the wandering pursuit of employment. Boutique ethnic restaurants and pretentious eateries with monosyllabic names will be forced to close, as residents will no longer be able to afford fancy meals (The Crepes of Wrath).
Horrible things to consider, indeed - but will there be an FDR to save us this time around?
We certainly hope Obama will win next week and hit us up with a bitchin' "Nuevo Deal." If so, we are TOTALLY applying for jobs with the Tennessee Valley Authority! Unfortunately, the only other option we have to rescue our asses besides a GOP smackdown is another World War, and that would be extremely, ultimately depressing.
~ T & SP
There are not many benefits to living in Washington D.C. The rent is astronomical. The people are tools. We don’t have representation in Congress. There are rats – flagrant rats that appear out of nowhere, demanding cheese like drug addicted homeless people. But to the city’s credit, it is very accessible. I have acquired sleeker and sexier thighs from the sheer amount of walking I do on a daily basis. I can walk to all the important places I frequent - grocery stores, bars, and my boyfriend’s house. Any place I can’t access by foot is merely a short metro ride away, at least on Monday-Friday (and where else to go on weekends but grocery stores, bars, and one’s boyfriend’s house). My perambulation serves as a source of exercise, meditation, and an act environmental conscientiousness.
Unfortunately, not everyone in the district is so keen on walking. Despite being rated as the second worst metropolitan area for traffic congestion, exorbitant fuel prices, and my previous observation that no one should need to drive in the city, there are a considerable amount of motorists on the streets of Washington D.C. And they’re all assholes.
Before living in D.C., there were only 2 times in my entire life (28 years at that point) that I was within seconds of death. One time, in early childhood, was at the aquarium in Baltimore, when I almost fell in the shark tank (they’ve since secured the area). The second time, in my adolescence, was when a hot iron almost fell on my face. Yet in just over one year of residency in the district, I’ve had countless unwelcome reminders of my mortality. Motorists in this town run me down like lions chasing gazelles on the Serengeti.
Let me make something clear: I am a prudent pedestrian. I obey traffic signals and observe crosswalks. I don’t just dart out into the middle of a busy road whenever I feel like it. I work in public health – we’re safety freaks. In spite of my caution, I frequently find myself standing like a deer in headlights, face to face with a car careening toward me like a bat out of hell. I remain there, dumfounded, reminding my would-be manslaughter that the walk signal is on, or that I’m in the middle of a clearly designated crosswalk. I hear all kinds of obscenities in return. My roommate once had a man get out of the car and shout, “What’s it gonna be lie to be right and dead?”. I’ve never had anything that drastic occur, but I wouldn’t be the least be surprised if it were to happen. Drivers in this city are egomaniacal bullies with reckless disregard for the lives of us lowly pedestrians. It’s bad enough that they refuse to acknowledge the existence of crosswalks, traffic lights, and other institutions of safety and order. But they add insult to injury by accusing ME of wrongdoing, when I’m clearly a) at the mercy of their death machines and b) a damn good upstanding citizen because I’m not polluting the air or supporting terrorist oil regimes. So put that in your exhaust pipe and smoke it, drivers.
I’m not sure what it is about D.C. in particular that makes the drivers so selfish and sadistic. I imagine it’s simply a byproduct of the general mentality of people in this city – a delusion of grandeur that they are so important that they must get where they’re going immediately, no matter whom they squish along the way. Glued to their blackberries (even while driving), they push their way around with wanton neglect for the safety of others. They can’t be bothered by crosswalks and traffic lights – they can afford high-powered attorneys to get them acquitted should they happen to commit vehicular homicide. Global warming? Terrorism? Oil dependency? These issues pale in comparison with the immediate comfort and convenience of self-anointed VIPs in the District of Columbia.
Another reason I surmise that people insist in driving in this scalable metropolis is that they are simply fat and lazy. This problem is not just endemic to the District of Columbia, it is a plague affecting our entire nation. One need look no farther than the fanny-pack clad tourists littering our Metro system (and I thank them for at least using public transit instead of renting cars) or grazing about the Pentagon City Mall to realize that America is morbidly obese. It’s a Catch 22 – they drive because they are fat, and thus they never lose weight because they don’t get off their fat asses to walk. Pretty soon they’ll all be flying around in lounge chairs with computers granting their every wish, ala Wall E. I can’t even imagine how urban planners will respond to this new traffic conundrum, but I know healthy, earth-loving pedestrians like me are going to have to look more than 2 ways when crossing the streets.
Here are the morals I’d like you to take away from this post, if you care to derive any valuable message. If you drive in D.C., take a serious inventory of your life and determine if you are driving out of necessity, ego, or laziness. If either of the later are the case, STOP DRIVING!!! You will save yourself some money, and get some much needed exercise. If you absolutely need to drive in D.C., please calm the fuck down. Put on NPR, classical music, smooth jazz – whatever it takes to reduce your unfounded angst. Observe crosswalks and traffic lights, and be patient as we pedestrians cross the street. After all, we’re saving your lives with our carbon neutrality.
And if you’re a fellow pedestrian like me, keep on shaking your ass. But watch yourself.
