Search This Blog

Monday, November 29, 2010

The passive aggressive movement.

One the things I have noticed that seems to be getting more and more common place is this notion that we all have to be nicey’ nice to those that offend us. Why?

Well in some respects… If your not nice as your being offended you are met with a passive aggressive retaliation. Aggressiveness lacking courage to be truthful. I have noticed this from more and more folks. Some folks deny they are part of the so called passive aggressive movement… They scoff and make fun of others while denying they are secretly sure they are cool and hip. The passive aggressive fangs really gleam from those folks. Then they plunge deeply into your neck or other parts of the anatomy. Mostly the part of the anatomy closest to your wallet.

I am not sure if it is a distorted political correctness or what one may call it. I just know that when dealing with people especially in the passive aggressive movement. I have run across a growing number of people who can be so easily offended by truthful statements. Then they turn on you in such a manner that it is confusing to me at times. Until the fangs have left their deep punctures. Then one is left bleeding.

I get nudged sometimes, actually a lot of the time. That I have to be nice about my being offended. Bullocks! Utter non sense. Look if I have done something to offend you, or offered a lousy service that you have paid for, I would fully expect to have it pointed out to me in a direct manner. Not some mamby’ pamby’ sideways passive aggressive manner. Or worse dare I say it… “Constructive criticism.” A passive aggressive term for, “Constructive destruction.” So when I am offended or given an actual reason to take offense why is it I seem to be stifled in an actual truthful response. I’ll tell ya’.

The decorum of this country has shifted to a nasty passive aggressive decorum. With subtle hints of being slighted. Subtle hints of possible litigation for pain and suffering. Those who respond in a direct manner are subject to being sued. I have seen it many times. The ultimate passive aggressive. Litigation.

Now please do not twist this into meaning I am for resorting to the name calling, that so many resort to when they know they are wrong. It is a matter of getting out of the playground from back in the fifth grade. Understanding how to speak intelligently while pointing out in the simplest of terms that you have been offended. (My expectations might be a bit higher than the reality of the usual decorum of this country.)

I suppose my chief complaint is that this nation is so far away from being civilized. It is evident in the day to day normal conversations that I witness and sometimes participate in. The separation between groups of people is ever widening. Exactly what the ruling class loves about all our useless bickering and twisting of truths. It fills their coffers with the peasants meager earnings and property.

If one is going to call me an idiot be prepared to back it up. Impress me back it up with two syllable words or three. Try not using expletives that describe a sexual act. I can take it. If one really and truly wants to impress me, be direct and leave the passive aggressive tactic at the door. Don’t hide behind it. It only shows the courage that one is lacking.

I am not trying to pick a fight here. I am tired though of the passive aggressive defense. I imagine that many who might read this are as well. The passive aggressive types can go pound sand as far as I’m concerned. They have no courage. I suppose in some way it is a form of snobbery. To sound snide that is. It maybe is a attempt to sound better than the one that was just offended. It is a defense that is about confusing the offended.

Case in point I watched this go down a few weeks ago and it has been bugging me for a while…

A worker in a retail store was putting the goods on the shelf. The co-worker or supervisor was criticizing the performance of the worker stocking a shelf. The worker commented quietly… “ I am putting up the amount you asked/ instructed me to… Just like you said to.” In a passive aggressive manner the co-worker/ supervisor said… “Oh I’m sorry you misunderstood did you miss the class about just saying no to drugs? Pity you could have learned how to count.” Wow, where did this person get off making such a harsh statement in front of the customer (me)? Let alone at all! The topper of it all was, this passive aggressive snot, looked in my direction and winked as they shook their head.

It was obvious to me there was a communication error, judging by the response from the co-worker it is possible that they made the mistake. The look on the co-worker/ supervisors face was a rather rosy blush. When the worker made the statement about the instructions that were given.

Well for those that know me… You know I said something, yet I practiced a small bit of decorum. “Is it necessary to be that rude and snide to others especially in front of your customers?” The passive aggressive left immediately. The worker stocking the shelf smiled at me and quietly said, “Thank you…”

Absolutely disgusting the way that so many communicate these days. I was offended in the above story and thought the passive aggressive had it coming. Why be a doormat being nicey nice is one thing, but being a door mat is intolerable. Letting someone else be a doormat is inexcusable. Lately the dividing line is getting murky.

Mostly my frustration comes from those who speak in their condescending passive aggressive tone. Whether I am making a complaint, or point out that I am offended by their behavior. Being passive aggressive does not make you right. It makes you aggressive with no courage. Let me repeat my self so that I am clear… Being passive aggressive does not make you right. It makes you aggressive with no courage. Much like a bully.

Chris…


©2010
Dog Hair Productions

Chris... | A Conversation With An Assassin | CD Baby

Chris... A Conversation With An Assassin CD Baby

Thursday, November 25, 2010

Sadly, gluttony is still overlooked.

The way I see it is simple: Tax on tobacco is OK. Tax on alcohol is OK. Both are so evil it must be OK to tax them heavily. Anything that is causing poor health and raising health care costs that are absorbed by the populace, well it only makes sense to have the tax on such dangerous poisons that people willingly ingest. It makes total sense. Wouldn’t you agree?


Sadly, gluttony is still overlooked. Obesity is a huge health issue. But very few want to look at it as a serious issue. Junk food is junk. It offers no nutritional value. It promotes an unhealthy body. I have been fuming about the soda pop & the junk food industry for years. Diet soda? Bah! Look at the amount of sodium in a can of diet pop. Fast food chains are nothing more than toxic sludge refueling stations. They promote lethargic, obese, diabetics of the future. Who is going to absorb the costs of such poor diet choices?

The so-called rich are nothing more than a group of fear mongers who are afraid that people will rise up against their greed. They profit from the masses being unhealthy. As long as the masses are lulled into a lethargic trance by the horrible chemicals they ingest at a low price, the outcry will sadly be limited. Yet I shall not be silenced nor lulled into the trance.

The tax laws are not designed to actually take care of the people of the country. They are designed to keep the bootheel on the neck of the impoverished. If the populace is kept in a hypnotic trance of antidepressants and corn syrup, the rebellion factor is diminished. The way this country is eating is astounding and depressing. Once the high of the sugar is not enough, the idea that there is more to help lull and numb the populace is presented in sexy ads for alcohol disguised as a social ritual…one that is welcomed.

Portion control is against the norm. Why do you think so many products nowadays are only offered in large quantity? “Big Grab, Big Gulp, Family Pack, 40 oz. Malt Liquors, etc, etc. Restaurants that serve platters instead of a plate and call it dinner for one. How about the pancake place that was serving cheese cake between pancakes? When will it stop? When the consumer can no longer afford it. Actually, the consumers can’t afford it any further. It is killing them slowly, pound by pound.

Are there forces that are looking to commit a mass genocide by toxic eating habits? Call me what you will as you chew on your wonder meat called pepperoni. How many need to speak out to get actual change? A practice that is killing people. Your lord knows that taxing it has been met by scare tactics. Funded by who? Who gained by repealing the taxes? With the suffering economy, how is taking taxes away from products that offer zero nutritional value a bad thing? Yes, I pose many questions. I do not claim to have the medical nor scientific background to fully understand the absolute destruction that is being perpetrated upon the populace. However, I do know a rat when I see one.

Look, it boils down to this: Poison is poison. I really do not care what package you put it in. However, as a consumer of goods that are supposed to be food, I have a right to know that it is poison. For your gods sake, I cannot buy a R&R album without being warned that it has words that are offensive (offensive to you, not me). I cannot go to a movie without some sort of warning. For the love of your god, it is stamped into guns that they are dangerous - like I did not know any better. So how about labeling the food that is of zero value? If the food offers nothing, then by all means tax it the same way that alcohol and tobacco are being taxed! Use your so called sin tax! Please, warn me of the dangers! I would have never have known that a toaster pastry would have a hot filling inside that could cause me harm if it were not for the warning labels. But the producer of the same toaster pastry fails to warn me of the dangers of the chemicals that one is about to put into their body. How dare you!!!

Tax candy. Tax soda pop. Tax all fast food restaurants. Tax any restaurant that is serving mass quantities posing as a single portion. Taxing gluttony is not a bad thing. It is one of your seven deadly sins is it not? So why not tax it accordingly? It may even bring awareness to the fact that some people have a choice to not overstuff themselves with horrible toxic sludge posing as food. Or was it not so far off the mark when I asked about a subtle mass genocide? Or continue down the path your on. Watch the undernourished fall one by one. The cause of death will not be the poisonous food they ate but cardiac arrest, diabetes, colon cancer, cancer of some sort.

The cancer we all are fighting is dishonesty brought to you by the wealthy that feed us their toxic sludge posing as food. Animals riddled with growth hormones that are causing human complications. And look at the tax base we are missing! The taxes that could be raised could go back to the medical industry. The medical industry that will be taking care of all the victims of the corporate toxic sludge. As I have been asking for a while now: Are the politicians just stoned or are they just stupid? I think they are nothing more than greedy, soulless, fearful people who have little respect for you and I. Sorry if this offends you but, to sit in silence is far more offensive. Far more.

For anyone laughing at this point , if you even made it this far, remember this: There are some now who are shaking and wondering how to stop this message in the land of the free on this day of gratitude.

Now please excuse me while I go be a good patriot; paying my taxes by smoking with a drink in hand.

The revolution is available for the taking. Have you had enough? Have you?


Chris…



© 2010
Dog Hair Productions

Monday, November 15, 2010

I paraphrase, borrow and add my own take on this concept from Lenny Bruce.

Fuck is not a bad word if you think about it is about doing something that is pleasurable for both. I have no problem when some one suggest fuking me; i.e. “Fuck You!” I take it to mean that they are hoping I find pleasure in the near future. Much like saying… “Thank you.” One could say… “Fuck you.”

How about this one? “Have good fucking day!” Well we all have or most have had a bad fucking day or night. Yet nobody ever says as your leaving a party hope you had a bad fucking time. Of course when you hear go fuck your self I presume they are suggesting that I go pleasure my self. Well if I am leaving the party alone odds are… Well do the math.

Of course once I got told, “I hope you get fucked.” Now I could not fully understand why this person who was so angered by me wanted to hope that I would have pleasure? Unless of course they were offering some sort of forgiveness, much like forgiving ones enemies so as not to be burdened with resentment later. So perhaps that was why the adversary hoped I would get fucked. One never knows. So I say fuck it. Fuck it and enjoy yourselves. Why not??? Wouldn’t a society or the world for that matter be a much happier place if we were all fucked on a regular basis? Seems to me the reason for all the hostility and the frustration is people are holding back the fucking as some sort of punishment. Yes, yes I think that we all would be much better off if we were all fucked. And fucked thoroughly… Either fucked over, fucked up, either way a good fucking under or over should relax the more folks.

As it is I see and hear about people always worrying that they are about to be fucked. They fear being fucked. While on the other hand they fear never getting fucked, or not getting to fuck. What the fuck, live a little. Have a nice fucking day or night… Heh, heh or both!

It is not taking a risk being what others think you should be. It is courageous to be yourself. I see ridicule as a pure form of envy, envy from those who hide from who they are.

Chris…







©2010
Dog Hair Productions

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Thirty years ago today.

It was thirty years ago today that the relationship started with this guitar. I was all of 14. I had been slinging newspapers Monday thru Saturday mornings. Alarm clock would go off at 4:45am. That is correct I was up long before the grown ups and any other kid in my neighborhood.


I started the paper route when I was 13. I had just started thinking about playing guitar about the time I got the route. So like any kid I asked around and found this cheap Telecaster copy along with a Sears & Roebucks amplifier. The guitar had been passed around five other kids about my age before I got it. It was a package deal cheap guitar and amp. Ready for this it was a whopping thirty five bucks to own it. Of course I did it!

I came home to my parents house with this guitar in hand no case just the amp in one hand a the guitar in the other. I plugged it in and it was out of tune. I barely knew how to tune it.

I was reading some magazine, most likely Creem there was a article about, The Kinks! Oh I had been loving their music for a while at that point… Dave Davies was talking about how he got his sound for their big hit “You Really Got Me.” I read how Dave, slashed his speaker with a razor blade to get the crunch he wanted from his amp. I thought… “Hey!!!” I immediately went to the kitchen found a sharp knife and put some slits in the speaker on my little amp. The screen did not pop off so I had to cut the screen off. Turned it on with the on / off / volume switch. No tone controls, and hit that “A” chord that Dave Davies hit and played the riff! (Sing along if you know the song!)

Suddenly I had distortion and crunch and sounded all dirty! Rock & Roll! Rock & ROLL!!! It must have been a weekend Dad was home and came charging down to the basement where I had set up shop. He was yelling… “Turn that SHIT DOWN!” Then to my fathers absolute horror he saw what I had done to create such beautiful music.

Now understand my father was all about perfect sound with his hi-fi system. Yep not a stereo but a hi-fi. He saw I had purposely slashed the speaker. He was horrified by my action. He bellowed, “how could you do that?!?” I smiled and said Dad… “It sounds great!” He shook his head and left the room and I went back to banging every song I had learned at that point. My own brother came in and asked what the F**K? For the first time in my life that I can remember I think my brother was actually a little bit jealous of me. Me!

I had a raw crunchy sounding guitar! Not some record but my own electric guitar! Needless to say after many months I was starting to understand that I needed to up grade.

The 10 inch speaker and the solid state Sears & Roebucks amp just was not loud enough. So like any kid of those days I found that Peavey made some affordable gear. Here is a name many might remember ‘Backstage 30.’ It had multiple knobs! And a big ass speaker! The problem was the guitar sounded like poop. So I saved my money from slinging papers every morning.

Despite some dancing with chemicals I was able to save my earnings until I could venture down to the big ol’ city of Seattle. ( not even a hundred years old yet)

Hopped on the bus and ventured down to a big city music store (Please somebody correct me on this point if I am wrong.) My memory is a bit fuzzy I think that place was called Guitars Etc. I recall it was on Lenora, maybe on 6th & Lenora? ( Any corrections are most welcome.)

I walked in at 14 years old with a wad of cash in my pocket! I held five hundred dollars and was ready to make the purchase! Think about it fourteen years old, rode the bus into downtown Seattle in 1980 with $500.00 in my hip pocket. I was thinking how cool and hip I was… Hell aren’t we all at fourteen?

I looked around the store. It seemed huge! All the folks around me were much older, Well at least much taller. They looked at me with a puzzled look on their faces. I remember there was this one guy, hair down to his shoulders and kind of spiked on top. Cool leather jacket some faded jeans and some pointy ass cool boots. He looked at me and said right on kid wish I started when I was as young as you. I suddenly felt some acceptance. ( I thought I was pretty damn cool after that.) I walked around the store no clue what to look for or what to do. I just remember that, KISW 99.9 FM Seattle’s Best Rock!!! Always advertised this store, that and Tom Shane. So my logic said this is the store to buy from. Never ever did you hear about Music West on Seattle’s best Rock!

So there I was I was in the guitar Mecca as far as I was concerned. I knew that I wanted to up grade and being that I was really into Jimi Hendrix amongst others who lived on the Stratocaster, I spotted the Fender wall and headed in that general direction weaving my away around the tall folks and the piles of equipment. Gibson was out of the question economically. Funny how things still have not changed much now that I am taller and my feet touch the floor when I sit down.

To say I was nervous is putting it mildly. So I stood and stared at all these shiny new gems hanging on the wall. Eventually one of folks who worked there came up and asked from behind, “see anything you like?” My heart started pounding and I turned and just pointed to this sunburst Stratocaster with a white pick guard and rosewood fret board.

Now this guy saw I was out of my element or nervous any way, he saw that it would help the sale if I could take it to a back room to try it out. So he lead me thru another maze of equipment. Mostly amps. I would need to save again for the next acquisition another story later.

In this back room I sat with this brand new guitar in hand and plugged into some sort of amp they had for just this situation. I started plinking around with it and I must say was not all that impressed. It sounded weak. Even after making the adjustments on the amplifier. I was not sure what to think and was pondering getting up when the sales guy came in with another guitar. It was a sunburst Stratocaster with a maple fret board and a black pick guard. I looked at the machine head and noticed right away it was not a Fender. I thought “oh no not another cheesy copy.”

Now as I had been inspecting the Fender in hand I noted the neck was only being held onto the body by three screws as opposed to four. This 1980 brand new Fender seemed flimsy overall. The pick guard was not even flush with the body. It was bowing up on the top edge. Most importantly it sounded weak.

The sales guy said, “Here try this one out you might find you like it better.” With reservation I traded guitars with him. I immediately noticed it was heavier and the neck was bolted on by four screws. The pick guard was flush the maple neck felt much better and once I plugged it in I heard the tone I was hoping to have heard from the Fender. I knocked off some standard chords and little riffs I had in my fledgling repertoire. The tone the sound was full and crisp. Now mind you I had not changed anything on the amplifier at that point just fiddled back and fourth with the pick up selector and was very impressed every time I changed the position of the pick ups.

After about fifteen minutes the sales guy came back and asked how it was going? I asked why is this copy sounding so much better? He pointed out that it had Dimarzio pick ups in it and that he thought I would be happier with a more traditional sounding Stratocaster as opposed to the Fender of 1980. Oh and the topper was it was a hundred dollars less then the Fender. I fell in love with that hunk of wood and wires instantly. I asked if this guitar came with a case. He laughed and said of course it does. So not the Fender I thought I was going to get I bought the Hondo II Professional. $400.00 out the door! I had a new case with a brand new guitar inside.

We went to the front counter for the transaction of commerce. Should have seen this guys eyes bug out as I was peeling out the twenties and fifties. He grabbed his co worker and said, “Hey check this kid out in came in ready to buy a guitar!” They saw the money and asked if I was sure that I did not want to look for more stuff? I quietly said no thank you. We finished our transaction and out the door I went. I was walking proud back to the bus stop and held on to that guitar with all my might. I boarded the bus and found my way back home.

I got home that clear crisp veterans day thirty years ago, and to this day I have that hunk of wood and wires. It has gone thru some transformation over the years but, haven’t we all in the last thirty years? It all happened on a day of remembrance for the fallen and for the those who are serving to defend those precious moments of freedom that we look back on and look forward to each day.

Chris…

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Make sense of what?

‘Sometimes it is good to know how I got here. How I got here sometimes isn’t nearly as important as why.’


‘It is something to watch the fruits of ones labor being enjoyed others. It is something else to watch the fruits of ones labor rotting on the vine and fall to the ground… I suppose the ants and worms might disagree.’



‘It all makes sense when all the pieces of the puzzles are put together. The trick though is understanding it, when some pieces are missing. Hell even knowing that some are missing… That is the puzzle in the puzzle. Of course they don’t want you to know some of the pieces are missing.’


Chris…









©2010
Dog Hair Productions

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Oh good I have more…

Careful what you may wish for careful it may just be left at your door.


Then you will have it for all to see.

It may be so big you can not find a closet big enough to hide it.

All your house guests will see it and wonder why you wished for it.

They will look with awe and eventually look in wonderment followed by puzzlement wondering why you wished for such a thing.


One night you will be alone with it and ask yourself… “Why did I ask for this?”

You will be all alone with it and no others will want to do anything with you because your wish left you cynical and spiteful towards others looking to see your dream.

Then you will have alienated everyone and be left with your dreams and wishes as they collect dust.

The moment of choice and decision is now surrounding you and you wonder why you are alone…

Were you careful in what you wished for or were you only thinking about you in your wishes.

Well now that you are all alone and no interruptions you have all the time in the world to think about it.

Be careful this time remember what you asked for the last time.

Chris…








©2010
Dog Hair Productions









Monday, November 1, 2010

All shapes...

Heroes have come in all shapes and coats… Some will ware hats. Under the hats they maintain undisclosed facial features… Ones that will disclose the hurt of watching the downtrodden being kicked while they are down…


Others have absolutely no problem stepping square into the light… They face the oppressor with an exacting vengeance! Penetrating eyes that stop mile long freight trains. Eyes that have the history of the worlds written across them…

Heroes have come in all shape and sizes… The magnitude of their acts is not measured by the act it self, but by the willingness to face the monsters!

Chris…


© 2007
Dog Hair Productions

http://www.digstation.com/AlbumDetails.aspx?albumid=ALB000006124