In Defense of...Public Urination

We’ve all been there.

The seal has been broken for quite some time. The last round of Jager bombs you and your friends ordered right before you pounded your beer and stumbled out the door doesn’t seem like such a good idea now, does it? It’s cold outside and you catch a glimpse of the long line in front of the next stop waiting for two people at a time to leak out the front door.

You are pee dancing your ass off.

You start to weigh your options and your definition of shame takes on new and interesting shapes. Finally your entire life boils down to a single harsh reality:

You tried to fight the good fight, but if you can’t find somewhere to piss in the next eight seconds, you will be the coolest person since Miles Davis.

You start to look for some shelter like an ant in a rainstorm. A dumpster, the outcrop of a building, a sleeping vagrant. Really anything will do, as long as it’s out of sight from The Man. Ladies, this is one of those time when life is truly unfair. And yet, I can personally vouch that some of you haven’t let this “inconvenience” stand in your way. In fact, standing has nothing to do with it.

Once you give your body the go-ahead, there is no turning back. A mad man holding your own mother hostage could not convince you to stop. Sex, riches, power...nothing even comes close to the satisfaction that you’re feeling at that moment. All done and it’s time to catch up to your friends.

“Where were you? Did you....did you pee in that veterans cemetery?”

You are God damn right I did.

And frankly, I don’t see what’s so bad about it. Urine is sterile. It’s not like I’m taking a dump in a playground. You’re probably doing more harm to the environment when you wash your car in your driveway. And what about people who walk their dogs? My street is given a fresh coat of dog pee three to four times a day.

It’s not civilized, you say? It’s what separates us from the animals? Go to any private golf club in America. Your gender or race might be banned, but peeing in the bushes? Put me down for a 5 and I’ll catch up with you on the tee box.

Public urination is the God-given right of every American. It’s really the only reason that guys go camping. Besides, if I hold it there’s a good chance I could get uromisotisis poisoning and die. Do you want that on your conscience? Think about it.

In Defense of... Cockfighting

I know this will piss a lot of animal lovers off, but I really don't care. Honestly, I don't understand why cockfighting has gotten such a bad rap. To understand why I feel this way, there's a few things you need to know:

1. I Hate Birds. Seriously. Birds creep me out. I still have never seen the Hitchcock movie and never will. The last time Mrs. Arcturus and I went to Shedd Aquarium we were mobbed by seagulls and I about had an "episode". So it doesn't bother me to know that people breed birds to fight to the death. One more dead bird is a step in the right direction.

2. Cockfighting Is A Lot Less Cruel Than The US Poultry Industry. At least the rooster gets a fighting chance at survival in cockfighting. If he wins, he lives. Simple as that. Aramis Ramirez's roosters live better than most Dominican children. Cruel my ass. By contrast, a chicken in the poultry industry is bred to either lay eggs constantly or have an accelerated growth cycle so they can quickly become fillets or drumsticks, or blended with mystery fish meat to become McNuggets.* These chickens live horrible lives, while the fighting roosters in the Dominican are admired and well cared for.

3. Cockfighting Is in No Way As Terrible As Dogfighting. Dogs are intelligent, loyal human companions. Even pit bulls are cute and cuddly, so long as they're not trained to eat babies. Dogs exist to please humans, so forcing them to fight is a horrible way to take advantage of that loyalty and love. A chicken is dirty, stupid and snake mean. A cockfight also has the built in benefit of being able to eat the loser, hell, sometimes the winner if they're fucked up enough. You can't do that in a dogfight.** So not only do you come for the fight you stay for the barbecue. Bonus.

4. I Want My Own Cockfighting Team. Seriously. The LeRoy Leghorns. There could be leagues of fighting cocks all across the country. KFC and Popeye's could sponsor. Money in the bank, baby. In this troubled economy, it would create jobs, not to mention meals, for thousands of people.

5. They're Chickens. Seriously people. Look, I'm all for protecting whales, wolves, seals, and polar bears, as well as other endangered species. Most of those animals are noble, proud animals. A wolf is symbol of pride and independence. A bear is a symbol of strength. Whales are symbols of . . . I have no idea what the fuck a whale is a symbol of. Chickens are not noble, chickens are tasty. Nobody likes to be called chicken or a cock, so even their names have negative connotations. Fuck, Rooster was the guy who tried to push Little Orphan Annie off a fricking bridge, thus canceling out the only "cool" Rooster, Rooster Cogburn. I've said it before and I'll say it again: chickens are McNuggets with feet. Let them fight and at least have a moment of glory before they end up in the skillet to be pan fried to crispy goodness. Now I'm hungry. Hey, Aramis!

*McDonald's claims that this is no longer the case, that McNuggets are all white meat. Yeah, right.

** Unless you're in Korea.

In Defense of...Judas Iscariot

You don't have to subscribe to Christianity to know the name Judas. It is a title that is synonymous with betrayal, often used to describe a person who has turned against their principles and lost the trust of the people that love them (think Bob Dylan going electric). Calling someone Judas, of course, is derived from the actions of Judas Iscariot (pictured to the left of Jesus), one of the original twelve Apostles of Jesus Christ.

According to the Gregorian calendar, Jesus died at the hands of the Romans well nigh 2,009 years ago. As the story goes, Jesus was a simple man destined for magnificent things. He lived his life modestly as a carpenter, following in the footsteps of Joseph, the husband of his mother Mary. His real father, of course, was God. God instructed Jesus to be his mouthpiece on Earth, preaching the good life to all who would listen. Jesus developed quite a following, performing various miracles, healing the sick, practicing general do-goodery. His lifestyle and teachings, however, did not automatically ingratiate Jesus with all his Jewish acquaintances. Toward the end of his brief life, he had made numerous religious enemies, and his friends were keenly aware of the new wave in which they were a crucial part.

Jesus, through the omniscience of God, knew his own demise was imminent, and as any good socialite would, he planned a going away dinner with his disciples. At this Last Supper, Jesus foretold the events that were to come, and made it clear that one of the present Apostles would betray him. That individual, as history shows, would turn out to be Judas Iscariot.

Judas was effectively the treasurer of Jesus's crew. He is referred to in the Gospel of John as keeping the "money bag"* for the Apostles. Like any good entrepreneur, Judas was well aware of his unique position, and the market for the good that only he and few others could provide. Judas therefore arranged to sell Jesus to the Romans for a profit of "thirty pieces of silver"*, more than enough to buy that new fishing net he had been eyeing.

A night or two after the Last Supper (Wikipedia was foggy on the exact date, and I haven't been to mass in years), Jesus and the Apostles were relaxing in a garden. The Romans were tipped off by Judas, arrested Jesus, and hurried him off to Pontius Pilate.

Though he had rationalized his actions at the time, Judas quickly realized what a treacherous act he had committed and was filled with remorse. Note that a successful businessman would have realized that pain, suffering, and deciet are just part of the game. Judas returned the silver, and like a billionaire fallen prey to a Ponzi scheme, he hanged himself*.

In defense of Judas Iscariot, two issues arise:

• If Jesus knew that events would play out in this manner, why go through the posturing? If his death was part of a prophecy, would Judas not have simply been doing what was necessary, playing the role as pre-determined by God? Why make a big stink of it at the Last Supper. Did even Jesus feel compelled to air his dirty laundry to anyone who would listen?
• Along this lines, if Jesus knew he would be rising from the dead a mere 72 hours later, why would he allow Judas to kill himself? Jesus had to have known what lied in store; I mean, he was the flipping son of God! He'll raise Lazarus from the dead but let Judas kill himself? That's preposterous and has bothered me since Sunday school.

Ultimately, though Judas had dollar signs in his eyes and the cold steel heart of a landlord, even he realized the error of his ways and refused to live with his disgrace. We may be quick to label those who betray us as a "Judas", but what do we call repentant, remorseful individuals who simply make bad decisions they regret? We call them "friends", because we all make mistakes. At the end of the day, we need to be honest with ourselves, just like Judas. God did not fault Judas Iscariot, we did.

* source: The Bible by way of Wikipedia