Thursday, July 28, 2005


As of today's games the number one team in the National League West, the Whale's Vagina Padres are in 1st place with a 51 - 51 record. That's right! .500 baseball could get you into the playoffs if you're in the West. The last place team in the NL East is the New York Mets at 52-50. That's right! Put the Mets in the West and they are leading the division. I'm sure things will change as the NL West teams all play themselves, but today I can glory in the fact that Dodgers' whole division sucks. There should be two wildcards this year.

Atlanta 58 44 .569 - 32-14 26-30 6-4 W-3
Washington 55 47 .539 3 32-18 23-29 2-8 L-4
Philadelphia 53 50 .515 5.5 33-22 20-28 5-5 W-1
Florida 51 48 .515 5.5 27-23 24-25 6-4 W-2
New York 52 50 .510 6 32-21 20-29 6-4 L-1

St. Louis 64 37 .634 - 33-20 31-17 5-5 W-1
Houston 55 47 .539 9.5 34-14 21-33 9-1 W-5
Chicago 52 50 .510 12.5 26-24 26-26 5-5 L-1
Milwaukee 50 53 .485 15 28-19 22-34 5-5 L-2
Cincinnati 44 58 .431 20.5 31-25 13-33 6-4 W-2
Pittsburgh 44 58 .431 20.5 24-27 20-31 4-6 L-2

San Diego 51 51 .500 - 30-20 21-31 1-9 L-1
Arizona 50 54 .481 2 25-28 25-26 5-5 W-2
Los Angeles 46 56 .451 5 25-25 21-31 5-5 L-2
San Francisco 44 57 .436 6.5 22-30 22-27 4-6 W-1
Colorado 36 65 .356 14.5 26-25 10-40 4-6 L-2

Wednesday, July 27, 2005

That was a bit offsides, wasn't it? Matthew 7:27

So, seems that people who don't wish to reveal themselves have been sniping at me today over yesterday's post. My testicles still hurt and I've got no recourse other than to suffer for another week. I quote Rob Base when I say, frankly, "You don't like it? So what! I don't care!" Moving on.....

I went to the Temple in Baton Rouge tonight with the Branch youth and several recent converts. I rode up with Gary Hanson and Layton Alldredge. The temple session was great. I baptized Carmen Morales and Lori Núñez and felt great while I was there (though my varicocele still hurt! naysayers!).

I have never been to Baton Rouge without it absolutely pouring rain, so I was pleased this time that the drive there was uneventful. Upon leaving the temple, we came out to find it indeed pouring rain. The poorly constructed parking lot causes all the runoff to pool right in front of the temple, making it slippery and dangerous to walk. Well, I went to go get my car and I stepped in what I thought was a high place, only to realize it was much deeper than I thought. My dress shoes were not meant for traction in three inch deep water, so I slipped a little--almost caught my balance, and then went down hard in water on my right side. I was thoroughly soaked all down my right side--ruining my white shirt in the process, cracking the screen on my cell phone, and generally making myself very sore. Because I had just left a temple session, and because there were about 30 youth, missionaries, and other members under the porch at the temple watching me fall, it was all I could do not to let forth a molten torrent of incendiary filthy swearing. Somehow I uttered not a single cuss. When I got in my car, I began laughing uncontrollably and realizing that I was about a split second away from having introduced many an unspeakable phrase into the branch's youth's lexicon. It hurt!

By the rivers of Babylon, where we sat down, and there we wept, when we remembered Zion.

Thursday, July 21, 2005

Degenerate Moderns, Postmoderns, and a preponderence of signs

My sister and I had a great debate this morning sparked from her reluctance to register her information with so that her niece could earn money for college based off of what she buys. I agree with her that advertising is evil in today's incarnation of it, and soon our conversation evolved into a discussion of why I think the Postmodern Age is what it is because of the anonymity that the urban landscape allows people to be permissive of immorality, free from the effects of the quedirán of the village's gaze (of the Other). I told her that I didn't think that you could have your cake and eat it too, meaning that you can't say that our actions don't matter as long as they don't hurt others/you can' legislate morality/etc while at the same time not expecting the market to react to that permissiveness by advertising products and ideas that will prompt people to buy things. In a sea of messages, edginess is how a company gets its products noticed. Pushing against that envelope leads us to the advertising of 2005, and the slow and incipid embracing of porn semiotics and gangland imagery and signs (GTA:San Andreas) by the youth culture.

Susanna countered that the current culture isn't any worse than the buttrock of the 1980's with Warrant singing about Cherry Pie and Winger proclaiming, "She's only 17, daddy says she's too young, but she's old enough for me." I agree somewhat. The problem is that now we are becoming generation tras generation that has lived around permissiveness, so much so that now the ones who still openly scorn immorality are scorned by the culture en masse. Some of the most egregious things today have already been railed against ad naseum, so I won't add much new to the debate, but I'd like to point out one glaring example of why advertising and glorification of immorality are fast achieving a symbiosis: Chillious, the last emcee.

Please note the rhetoric used to describe this man's product in an ad on page 43 of the Rolling Stone July 28, 2005 issue, "The pinnacle of rap, the man with more felonies than friends, he's got the flow, with a summertime vibe, engaging in urban warfare, that's got the entire world westcoastin'."

I think the cross directly below his left eye is a nice touch, instead of the white supremacist tear drops tatoo de jure. I could spend tons of time deconstructing the symbolism of the tatoos and all the other aspects of a posturing man who just needs someone to love him for who he is instead of all these alpha male trappings that he currently drapes himself in, but I won't. I let you do it. Watching a biography about Bob Newhart last night, I got the clue that sometimes what's not said is the best thing someone can say.

Porn culture has also infected the youth. I teach college kids and I see how they're attitudes and dress reflect an infatuation with the realm of porn. Jean Baudrillard best summed up my feelings on porn when he wrote, "The more one advances willy-nilly is sex's veracity, in the exposure of its workings, the more immersed one becomes in the accumulation of signs, and the more enclosed one becomes in the endless over-signification of a real that no longer exists, and of a body that never existed. Our entire body culture, with its concern for the "expression" of the body's "desires" for the stereophonics of desire, is a culture of irredeemable monstrosity and obscenity" (Seduction, 33).

The more allow immorality and worse obscenity to pervade our society, the stronger the forces of capitalism will work to address that market. Look only at the blinding speed with which internet porn has risen to power to know that the market will respond to any trend that dollars push. You can't rail agains the evils of advertising while not railing against the evils that advertising is marketing to. It just won't work.

I think sex should only happen between a man and woman who are legally and lawfully married. Use the Georgia Satellites as your guide:

I got a little change in my pocket Goin ching-a-ling-a-ling Wanna call you on the telephone, baby Give you a ring But each time we talkI get the same old thing Always, "No huggee, no kissee Until I get a wedding ring."Oh, my honey, my babyDon't put my love upon no shelf She said, "Don't hand me no lines And keep your hands to yourself.

"B-b-baby, baby, babyWhy you gonna treat me this way? You know I'm still your loverboyI still feel the same way Thats when she told me a storyAbout free milk and a cow She said, "No huggee, no kissee Until I get a wedding vow."Oh, my honey, my baby Don't put my love upon no shelfShe said, "Don't hand me no lines And keep your hands to yourself."

See I wanted her real bad And I was about to give in Thats when she started talking about true love Started talking about sinI said, "Honey, I'll live with you for the rest of my life."She said, "No huggee, no kissee Until you make me a wife."Oh, my honey, my baby Don't put my love upon no shelf She said, "Don't hand me no lines And keep your hands to yourself."

Wednesday, July 20, 2005

A little less information, a little more action

So, my wife made me promise today--while were in flagrante delicto--that I wouldn't mention our sexual relations in my blog anymore. She didn't make me take down yesterday's post (which was entirely in good taste I thought), but she doesn't want any more mention of our sex life in this forum. I agree with her. Our sex life is not a public spectacle and it's none of your business that my stamina today reached epic levels. Regardless, my wife left for Utah today, so unless I have a nocturnal emission mientras tanto I'll have nothing new to add on the subject.

An poorly titled article in the New Orleans Times-Picayune today
about the plight of Asian, mostly Vietnamese, grocers in the city at the hands of armed robbers made me come up with an obvious solution: criminals are obviously not very afraid of the consequences of robbing a store, so the consequences for armed robbery should be life with no parole, or worse. Punishment should be so severe that once one person gets punished, no one else breaks that law for fear of the punishment. Rehabilitation only breeds recitivism. I'll gladly pay more taxes for more prisons for violent felons. A billboard from the ATF here in town said, "A 9 will get you 5" implying that if you use a firearm in the commission of a crime, it automatically adds 5 years onto your sentence. How about "A 9 will get you life"? Use a firearm, go to jail forever, no parole. That would stop that shit cold.

Oh Peter, you're not workin' hard, you're workin' smart!

Special thanks to for informing us of this funny hoax:

Tuesday, July 19, 2005

A little too much information

So, my wife and daughter are leaving for Utah tomorrow for two weeks, even though we were just freaking there in April, and mi suegra could just as easily come here instead. Well, since we are trying to get pregnant, and since my sister's been staying with us for two weeks, and since we won't be able to during our time apart, we chose this afternoon to do what married couples do whenever they can. My sister was gone, Marley (our 3 year old daughter) was preoccupied with whatever was on Noggin and almost falling asleep.

One things leads to another, and we find ourselves in coito, me prone, doing what you're supposed to when we hear little feet running, and then our bedroom door being pushed open against the weight of a Sam's Club case of baby wipes. We quickly disengage and try to act like we're just talking when Marley bursts in and proclaims, "Mason is going to kindergarten." It's good to know that our daughter keeps us abreast of the Fonnesbeck clan happenings, especially in the precise moment when an interruption is a disruption. I love Marley. Mickelle and my sister have been teasing me about writing in my blog. This should give them a little something extra to lambast me about. I love them too.

Monday, July 18, 2005


In thinking about the Scripture that states that "wickedness never was happiness." Does that mean the wicked are unhappy? They look happy. I think it means that happiness, true happiness will never be known by those who are living in wickedness. Many people will say, "I am not wicked" correctly, never realizing that their actions are wicked while they in and of themselves are not.

Saturday, July 16, 2005

Where is my muse?

“It smells terrible in here.”

“Well, what do you expect? The human body when confined, produces certain odors which we tend to forget in this age of deodorants and other perversions. Actually, I find the atmosphere of this room rather comforting. Schiller needed the scent of apples rotting in his desk in order to write. I ,too, have my needs. You may remember that Mark Twain preferred to lie supinely in bed while composing those rather dated and boring efforts which contemporary scholars try to prove meaningful. Veneration of Mark Twain is one of the roots of our current intellectual stalemate.”

Tuesday, July 12, 2005

Saturday, July 09, 2005

G-8 Summit

I think that we should wipe away the debts of many Third World countries that are willing to take positive steps towards democracy. A comment I read about the United States' committment irked me a little. It went something like this:

Blair lost his push to get all summit countries to commit to boosting foreign aid to an amount equal to 0.7 percent of national income by 2015. Instead, a summit document said the European Union had agreed to that support but did not mention the United States. U.S. President George W. Bush had refused to be bound by the 0.7 percent target. The United States is giving 0.16 percent of national income, the smallest percentage of any of the G-8 countries.

That final line makes it seem like we are misers, yet I would counter that although we have been accused by Hardt and Negri of constructing "Empire," we are a former colony, not a a colonizer and I believe the greater sin against Africa belongs to the Europeans--ergo they should pay the greater share of the guilt money to bail out Africa.

Hurricane Dennis and a humble request for help

We came home last night to find that Tropical Storm Cindy had knocked down half of the hackberry tree in our backyard while we were safe in Georgia. Luckily it only dented the roof of our carport. Many other people on our same street suffered much worse. The winds here in New Orleans only got up to 70 mph for a little while. Hurricane force winds like Dennis will generate can reach up to twice that strength!

Hurricane Dennis is gathering energy as it prepares to clobber the Gulf Coast somewhere. Because of my work situation, and because my gout is in remission I am in a position to go and help wherever I'm needed along the shore. I've rented a car and I'm going to Sams Club today to buy bleach, water, food, batteries, and the like to take with me and give to people in need. Since you may live too far away to drive down and help, if you feel so inclined, paypal me whatever amount you want to and I'll use every penny of the money to buy supplies for those in need. If you can't give anything or prefer to give to an organized charity, no problem. I am going to what I can since I have the time to go and help. I hope you don't think this email is in bad taste, I am just trying to help people who are going to need it.

New Orleans has dodged a bullet again. We should count our blessings.

Mac Williams

You can paypal me the money by logging into your paypal account and sending it to

Thursday, July 07, 2005

Hurricane Alley

I think that this hurricane season is a doozy. As you can see from my previous post, which thanks to the National Hurricane Center, keeps updating--we are going to dodge a bullet again. I'm going to go back to New Orleans tomorrow, but I hope we can avoid a major hurricane. I pray it weakens before reaching shore. Western Cuba just keeps getting hammered. Man oh man, Mother Nature can sure cook up a storm.

This image will appear dark when the sun is down, but you should be able to see the hurricane when it's light over the Caribbean!

Tuesday, July 05, 2005

On he told her BARUMPABUMBUM

Greetings from Acworth, Georgia--my hometown*. We came up to visit my family for the 4th of July. Unbeknownst to my whole family, my sister Susanna flew in to New Orleans from San Francisco where she lives and then drove up here with us to surprise my family. When we pulled in the driveway, she bolted from the car and hid under the house (not so weird as it sounds, my house is next to a lake and is up in the air high on big granite pillars). We brought our bags inside and then Susanna sneaked up and came in. Our front doors are big sliding glass doors so my Dad saw her first and gave him the finger-over-the-mouth be quiet sign. My mom was distracted playing with Marley. Susanna came and and gave my dad a big hug while he got misty, all the while because of the way the house is laid out, my Mom still had no idea Susanna was ever here. So I went around to where my Mom was so that she would look at me while my sister stood behind my Mom. I then gestured to my Mom to look behind her all serious, and my Mom was like (worried looking), "What?" I gestured again, she turned and saw my sister and then yelped "Susanna!" It was a great moment and one that we'll always remember.

We had the 4th of July at my grandparent's farm down in Moreland, Georgia. I love my cousins. I have very little in common with them, but I love them and I love being around them. I hope that doesn't sound too haughty; I don't mean it that way. They are my kin. Kin is the most important thing in life. Our differences mean nothing next to the fact that they love me. It's hard for me to explain. I worry that too often I don't become friends with people when I have so little in common with them. Obviously I am friends with my cousins, so am I becoming so snobbish as I become more quote, "academic"? I don't want to be a snob. Pride sucks. I wish I could be humble.

I gave my daughter two pots and some wooden spoons and told her to play me a song. The real reason is that I wanted my Mom and sister to wake up so we could get a start on the day. She played a rhythm and sang, "Wake up Lala, wake up Oh Susanna."

Me and my drum, rum rum.

* Acworth is my hometown sort of. We used to live out in the woods in Cherokee County, Georgia. In 1985 when they started mail delivery to our house, they gave us an Acworth zipcode, even though Acworth is in Cobb County. This area used to be called Oak Grove. There was Oak Grove Elementary (still there), Oak Grove Pharmacy (gone), Oak Grove Hardware (gone), Oak Grove Cemetary (people still dying to get in there). Techinically I am from Acworth, but in my heart of hearts I'm from a little place that got swallowed up by sprawl called Oak Grove, Georgia.

Saturday, July 02, 2005

Sometimes I wish Ents really existed

So, tonight when I left to pick my sister up at the airport, my Norfolk Island Pine was on my front porch. When I first moved to New Orleans, I bought it at Wal-Mart when it was about a foot tall. It's now about 5 feet tall and doing really well. I love that tree and I was planning to plant it on the grounds of my church when we moved, hoping to return someday and find it grown to majesty and beauty. That plan has been frustrated by a thief. When I got home and walked up on the porch, I had that feeling of das unheimlich where I realized that something wasn't right. I looked down and saw the empty saucer and immediately knew that my beloved tree was gone. This tree has endured two years of being our Mardi Gras tree. It's been deprived of water, and it outgrew its pot twice. I love it as much as you can love a tree. The thief ran so fast after swiping it that they left a trail of dirt across my neighbor's yard and driveway. We joked that I should go draw a chalk outline around the dirt and post a photo of it on the webpage. I hate thieves. A pox upon the thief and his kin!

With that said, if this is the only time that we're victims of crime in this city, I'll count myself very lucky indeed.

Friday, July 01, 2005

Entitlement Politics and a Miseobesist

This is my response to various lines of an article in the Times-Picayune about demolition of the Iberville Housing Complex.

The Housing Authority of New Orleans said Thursday it has no plans to tear down the Iberville housing development [a total lie]. Their claims were met with distrust and anger from public housing residents and activists who said they fear that Iberville will be demolished, leaving even fewer public housing units available. [the fewer the better. Modernist Architecture is an abject failure. Poor people should not be clustered togethered. It breeds crime, poverty, vice, and immorality.]

"You're lying to people," said Cary Reynolds, a white-haired, part-time waiter who has called the Iberville, across from the French Quarter, home for seven years. "You intend to destroy the project. Examine yourselves and think about the poor people you're going to displace."[examine the fact that you've worked part time for seven years and depend on someone else subsidizing your lifestyle. Work full time, rent your own place, and pretend you're an adult like everyone else]

Reynolds was joined by fellow residents and advocates for the poor at a public hearing HANO held Thursday at its Gentilly office as it completes a five-year plan it will submit to the federal government.
Most urged the agency to maintain the Iberville and expand the available number of homes for the city's neediest families. Many in the crowd pointed out that HANO has indicated it would apply for a "Hope VI revitalization" grant for a number of developments including Iberville, a clear sign that demolition is in the development's near future, they said.
"The housing authority has no intention of demolishing Iberville," responded Eugene Jones, deputy administrative receiver for HANO, who answers to the agency's chief, Nadine Jarmon. "We have not talked to anyone. Got it?" [In this city, they've probably all got the kickbacks lined up already, just waiting to make their money and then swear innocence. Corruption is a career here.]
Dozens of people took turns at the microphone, where each speaker was allotted three minutes to weigh in on the city's public housing future. [I bet that was painful for all those present who don't live in public housing]
"We have a crisis," said Don Everard, director of Hope House, a long-standing social service agency in the Lower Garden District that until recently was home to the St. Thomas development. "We don't need any less affordable housing."[I don't understand what he's saying either, but I hope he means that we need less public housing.]
HANO has 6,572 families, more than 14,000 people, on a waiting list for public housing units, and more than 25,600 people waiting for vouchers to help them rent the subsidized Section 8 housing. [Five houses down from me is a Section 8 house. SIX, and I mean SIX grown men sit outside all damned day long drinking alcohol, smoking, and every once in awhile working on cars as shade-tree mechanics. GET A F***ING JOB. Section 8 is worthless. These people have no reason to ever get jobs. Would you if someone paid you to not work? This is maddening!]
The former St. Thomas development held 1,500 units. Its replacement, River Garden, in its finished stages will allot 120 homes for low-income people. [Again, Modernism failed. It was degenerate and set us back 50 years]
Everard, a critic and skeptic of the freshly minted "mixed-income" River Garden community, called the Iberville a "ghost town" that has an increasing number of vacant units. [It's probably so old and nasty that no one wants to live there]
"If HANO has not decided to tear down the Iberville, then why are there so many empty apartments?" Everard asked. "It is for all intents and purposes demolition by neglect."
Last year, Pres Kabacoff, a local developer, whose HRI Properties Inc. developed River Garden, proposed a sprawling plan to demolish Iberville in favor of mixed-income housing. The idea was met with criticism and has not been publicly discussed further. [too bad, better still why are they building houses in the French Quarter. That clearly is better suited for hotels and tourist related businesses. Letting people underpay for housing in the premium area of the city is stupid]
The Iberville, built in 1941, has more than 850 units and is home to more than 1,600 people, according to HANO's last count in April. [A total ghetto. You hear me Frank Lloyd Wright? This is your fault! (not really)]
HANO has until next month to file its five-year plan with the federal government. Jones said Thursday that the agency will accept written comments from the public until the end of the business day Tuesday.
Delena Moss, an Iberville resident for 20 years, called HANO's pledge to leave Iberville alone a lie.
"It's about land. They're trading lives for money," [She doesn't own the land, HANO does, they can do with it what they will. Sell it and use the money to build or improve other housing. It's ludicrous to have essentially free housing near the Quarter] Moss said.
She drew cheers from audience members for her comments, which ended with a swipe at HANO's efforts to relocate housing residents: "We've got to move and move and move, like we're a bunch of ants." [No, like you're a bunch of freeloading, entitlement suckled tenants. Ants don't move. If she had said refugees that would've been more accurate in one sense, but still irrelevant. These people think they own this complex. It belongs to the city and they can do with it what they want. I don't remember anywhere reading that the city must provide housing for the poor. Crock of Democratic rotten New Deal Great Society leftovers.]

I watched an episode of Hell's Kitchen tonight with my wife. The chef is an ass and an egomaniac. Twice I heard him tell different people to lose weight, including a customer. I'm branding him an "miseobesist" [pronounced MIZ-OH-BEE-SIST] or fat person hater. He joins the club with Tina Fey for annoyingly rude insults to fat people. He's a chef of decadent delicacies. Seems counterintuitive to me. Like a seventh grader, when he runs out of good arguments, he calls someone fat. He'd better shut up or I'll sit on him.