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Is it just me or did Governor Mark Sanford of South Carolina catch the break of a life time when Michael Jackson died and he jumped out of the news bracket, but he is too ‘gracious’ to take that and won’t shut the hell up? Let me get the few of you that were not caught up on the story.

From June 18th to June 24th, Sanford went ‘missing’, in so many words. His wife, kids, staffers, no one, knew where he was, gaining national publicity and exposure. Many said, including himself (supposedly), he was hiking in the Appalachian Mountains and got lost, but several hours after arriving back in the US, and upon learning that incriminating evidence was being swiftly mobilized against him by the press, Sanford held a conference, during which he admitted that he had been unfaithful to his wife. Not, a hi, or a how ya doing or nothing, just bust outs the, “Oh, I was BRBing and in Argentina having a good time with a hot and sexy 41-year old International Affairs major mother of two.”

Many pushed for him to resign, but, oh, that was just way to easy for Mr. Sanford.

But, God shined down upon him, the gifts of all gifts. A tragedy that would get him out of this great debacle he was in, Michael Jackson passed on. The gift of a life time for him and his camp. The media that was hounding all over him, heard the loud noise of Michael Jackson’s death and turned away to that. All Sanford would do is duck his head, head out the back door, and the whole thing will just blow over.

But, Sanford did a interview with the Associated Press.

*insert sound of face thudding to hands*

He then claimed in an interview that his love with the women in Argentina, that she was his soul mate. Jesus, man. In the great words of Jon Stewart on the Daily Show, “God killed Michael Jackson to save your ass and then you gave another interview!?” In this horrible interview, he claims he has had more than one affair in his life. God, and it only gets worse from there.

But, he claims that his affair was more than that as he calls it a, “A love story. A forbidden one, a tragic one, but a love story at the end of the day.” You know, truly bring out the teenager in himself with this statement. But, I digress.

Ironically, Sanford who was among the loudest about President Clinton’s indiscretion, and those of others – chooses to share every sophomoric detail of his, in press conferences – which he calls! This, comes on the heels of God’s intercession for Sanford, Michael Jackson death. The Big Guy threw him a life-line he’s ignored. Sanford has even passed on the conditions of the GOP’s willingness to forgive and forget. They said they would if Mrs. Sanford could, which is something I thought there was little chance of seeing. Amazingly, she said she would, but the Wild Bull of the Pampas is having none of it! Is it me, or is this starting to sound like a Molly Ringwold movie, if only they’d had hot and steamy email back then?

From the moment we were born, we were conditioned to avoid confrontation. If we opened our tiny mouths to cry, a bottle was used to muffle our cries. We were taught as if we were puppies, not to bark and growl and oncoming passer-bys. Parents, teachers, preachers, and priests, have unleashed great pressures upon us. They have forced us to accepted their ways, their religions, their visions, their values, their conventions, their politics, their wisdom. The sad thing is that society has learned that it is better to conform than to be.

But life, I have learned, is like the gentle dandelions. Chopped of at the ground, it will spring back up from a single hair root. The human spirit is like the hair root. The trick is too discover our own hair root and cherish it, because from the one little amputated, fraction of a root searching for the sun, that is me, that’s you, that’s us.

And how do we get our own unique individual look on life? The key is embarrassingly simple. We need only give ourselves permission, our own permission, to peer out of our closets, step out look around, ask questions, demand answers, demand respect, share our creative sides, speak out, search for love, search for life, search for meaning, seek justice. To be is the hardest lock you will pass in life.

Silence is the fear that disables us from being. How do you deal with the silence? Here is the key: Fear is our ally, fear confirms us, fear is energy that is convertible to power, fear is friend and foe alike, and fear is powerful. Yet, fear should only challenge you, energize your senses, and in the presence of fear you should become alert. I have learned not to be ashamed of my fear but, embrace it. One cannot be brave without the fear. Because isn’t bravery just the facing of our fear? Fear confirms that at my heart’s core, life not death is the authority. But, the dead are not afraid, fear is the painful emotion that controls my being. I must muster the courage to make the argument that I am me, and only can be me.

TJ Sparks brought my attention to a forum the other day that had a topic on it of a “Things I hate” so, I decided why not put one up, so here we go…

- Today, in my English 12 class, we got asked, “In 5 years down the road, where do you see yourself?” I actually got mad at this question and the teacher who asked us to write about it. How the fuck am I supposed to plan or ’see’ myself in the future. It is fucking ridiculous. I should explain… I am the guy who always see the glass as half empty instead of half full. I look at almost everything in a negative sense. So, I must be weird or something because I just don’t see the planning and preparation that goes into something like this. How can anyone in the right state of mind…?

- Everyone tells me, I should have dreams and goals, but I do not. This goes with the whole rant about “5 years from now.” I have dreams and goals, I usually end up just failing at them anyway. If I have a goal or dream and one little part of it doesn’t work. I go almost bat shit crazy. I rather just live day to day and just hope I get to be tormented and demeaned another day.

- Working hard — fine. Playing hard — not really a massive fan. From what I can gather, ‘playing hard’ mainly involves clocking off from work, not even having time to change your socks or have any food or drinks, immediately engaging in some kind of contact sport and not having a bathing after wards, then drinking beer and taking the piss out of your schoolmate Jack for his terrible bloody taste in smokes while missing the newest episodes of Scrubs, before finally going to a nightclub and staying up really late talking to girls who’ve never even heard of Fallout 3. Er… no thanks!

- I hate how any gay guy can feel up, one of their chicks and yet when I do it, it gets all, “Oh, that’s really creepy and inappropriate, I think you should just leave, and now I’m in a really difficult position because I don’t know whether to tell your girlfriend or not. Anyway, you’re not even really my friend, you’re just a mate of Jason’s and I only met you about two hours ago. No seriously, stop touching them.” It’s a double standard, plain and simple.

- Fucking mutes. They always seem to be witnessing something. A murder, a robbery, a rape. It’s like they’ve always got to be sticking their big silent beaks in where they’re not wanted. Eh, mutes — how about you just get on with your own lives for once?

- I hate people who are obsessed with horses and talk about them all the livelong day and have posters of them on their bedroom walls/are convinced that by not owning a horse, their lives are unfulfilled. And, if they do own a horse. Oh my god, the fuck sake can’t save you from that.

- Those teachers who set ridiculous amounts of work *cough* Mrs. Vance *cough*, expect you to do it at an amazing and expectantly rate of speed and amazement that they want to see everyone get hand cramps in class and be rolling in the floor in crippled agony and disgust.

- I hate days that are gray but don’t rain. What’s the point? If it’s going to be cloudy and gloomy, then go ahead and rain. It’s like a wasted effect. Sure, just go ahead and depress the hell outta everyone, but don’t finish the job.

- I hate pushy drivers. It’s just irritating. Here she comes, in an SUV, talking on a cell, smoking a cig and going about 30 MPH faster than I’m going and I’m already behind someone traveling the right speed on a two-lane road. But does that stop her? Nope. She just keeps barreling up to my bumper and then starts veering over to make sure I notice her in all of my rear-view mirrors. I could go on, but I’m sure you’ve been there. She’s probably got pure McDonald’s coffee in her veins.

- Cigarette smoke smells on clothing. Way worse than just the pure smoke. Especially on chain smokers. You know the type, they are usually in K-Mart (I did that on purpose) and you get behind them or are checking them out and “wooohf!” it just takes over the entire aisle and then permeates YOUR clothing too like it’s ALIVE, it’s ALIVE!!! Get me out of there!

- People who are late. Especially those who show up with zero excuse. Come on, at least make something up! Last time this happened to me the girl just looked at me as if to say, “What? This is normal for me.” I’ve dropped habitual late friends from my list. Including my own mother. Seriously. This is a big deal for me.

- Impatient people. Watch out, because if I’m helping you that only makes me want to make you wait longer.

- Bret Michaels not admitting to wearing a weave or wig. Come on dude. I mean, he was good with Poison, but now he is just getting sad. Who in there right mind would wanna date him or his VH1 dating show brother, Flava Flav? Plus, adding on with the reality show hating, knowing that people like Omarosa, Sanjaya, and New York from Flavor of Love exist.

- Jon and Kate Plus Eight. Those kids are damn brats and the women is a bitch and dude is a whipped prick.

- People who hate the show Scrubs……LOOKING AT YOU, MR. TROY “TJ” SPARKS!

- Not having enough time to blog, read, watch DVD’s, or sleep. I miss all of these things terribly. I really want to finish my the No Country For Old Men book.

- Teenagers who act like idiots in public.

- People who actually think Disturbed’s song, “Down With The Sickness” is a good song. Only people who listen to that song are chicks who want to think they are ‘metal’.

- You.