Propaganda bombards us from every angle of the media, but there is one piece of propaganda overlooked by everyone. The cell phone has become instituted as THE medium for communication in the post-modern age.  I’m talking about how the cell phone is good and even necessary for human interaction.  Everybody has one.  They’re in the bars, on the buses, in the parks, and even in the hands of our children.  We’ve bought them hook, line, and ringer.  We’re merrily chit-chatting in our own little worlds while remaining oblivious to the real consequences.

Fact—there is a direct link between cell phone use and brain cancer.  Studies find that a person who uses a cell phone for ten years has a fifty percent increased risk of brain cancer.  Fact—cell phone use is addictive.  The only true piece of rhetoric that cell phonies state is “once you try one, you’ll never go back.”  That’s the same thing a junkie once told me about heroin, and Mick Zano about Thai Hookers, and Dave Atsals about hookers on heroin.

We conscientious communicators do encounter a dilemma.  Today, any other telephone is obsolete.  It’s like trying to get my eight-track music mix to work at an iPod party.  The old school phones now charge me long distance to call a cell phony standing across the street if his area code doesn’t match mine.  Oh, you’re 212, honey? Call me when you’re 516.  And just try to find a working pay phone these days.  My Morse Code, semaphore, and smoke signals are increasingly ignored.

“Breaker one nine, Zano.  Where’s the End of the Year Party this year, over?”

So I either submit to these brain-numbing technologies or else I’m out of loop.  Let me tell you what; you can take your loop and shove it up your iPod.

As one who has had the wisdom and forbearance to abstain from the cell phone tyranny, I can objectively report my findings—cell phones make people dumb…well, maybe it’s just that dumb people tend to use cell phones.  I noticed so many stupid people around. Double dumb, Dave Atsals carries two cell phones at all times.  He’s a regular Text Ritter. So I guess that’s one good thing cell phones offer; they bring stupidity out of the closet.  Oh yeah, they’re out of the closet all right, and now they’re talking loud on the bus about their chronic constipation and the latest episode of Survivor.

I’ll be fair. Cell phones do bring some benefits.  They improve social popularity (among brain dead people); they allow mediocre people to feel important without having to develop substantial qualities.  Cell phones enhance your financial opportunities by beating us slow Pokeys to the punch.  Oh, and let’s not forget that cell phones also provide easy distractions from potentially uncomfortable and introspective moments.  At any time of day, people of all ages now have the ability to shelter themselves from what’s occurring right in front of them.  Finally, humanity has the chance to create a completely calm and complacent society. The benefits will allow people to avoid the stressful realization that their Federal Government has ransacked the treasury and is in the process of creating a social tyranny of which our children and grandchildren will never recover.  Don’t worry, be chatty.

It’s time to make a stand.  Throw those cancer machines in the trash and talk to me face to face—if you’ve got the guts.  By the way, what gives you the right to ban me from smoking in public while you’re allowed to take your cell phone anywhere?  I’ll tell you what gives you the right—your lack of logic and your comfort with hypocrisy.  I demand that a study be done on the effects of second hand cell phone radiation.

As for me, I’ve had it with our age.  This technocratic society has reached a point of no return.  I’m done with TVs, cars, cell phones, iPods, internet bureaucracies, and this false Federal Government that promises to give us everything in exchange for our liberties. 

I write for the Discord, a funny website.  Ain’t never been there, they tell me it’s nice.

I’m slipping through the cracks of this preprogrammed dictatorship for good.  I’m heading for some new Verizons, people, so DON’T CALL ME, I’LL CALL YOU.

I love walking out my front door without a plan. Destinationless, I step into Limbo and keep trekking on a whim. This Limbo road is long and lonely, but we continue in pursuit of the perfect sanctuary hangout with lively atmosphere, inside art, outside garden, refined beverages, and characters all sizzling with inspiration. This method has stimulated much spontaneous creativity, frequent synchronistic encounters, heart-pounding adventures, a handful of citations, a restraining order, and one public gastric disruption described in court as “serving no legitimate purpose.”

It’s not the particular place, it’s the state of mind, and yet an establishment can institute an atmosphere, character, and quality that encourage this state. Wit spews from the lips like rabid rivers of lava burning and drowning us dead and awakened into our dawning enlightened life…or else I could end up in Carl’s at last call (part dive bar, part Clockwork Orange) pinned to something vaguely feminine.

The true greatness of a coffee shop, brewpub, bar, or diner shall be assessed by its potential to facilitate cultural experiences that are spontaneous, dynamic, and profound. This intangible quality is the most important element of any hangout.

As a cultural facilitator, my job is to transform parties into art exhibits and art exhibits into parties. There are certain criteria to consider. The setup should encourage a free flow throughout and amongst all social circles.  We can read or reflect alone, spontaneously jump into a conversation with strangers, or lead naked conga lines.

In order to stimulate the spirit of enthusiasm, an establishment must play good music that compliments the atmosphere, characters, and mood. Provide quality goods and services, and expel anything that inhibits this ever-important soul transformation (except my friend Shag).

Spatial limitation can strangle the life out of festivities (that’s m’s job). Be careful to consider the feng shui of the place and encourage a flow that keeps the energy circulating. Time limitations also inhibit enthusiasm. This ‘last call’ experiment has failed miserably. Some of my best festivities don’t get full-flailing until dawn.  On that note, drunk tanks should have breakfast specials.

Electronic gadgets distract people from the possibility of authentic interactions and have no place in social settings. I don’t even like to see cell phones in public. Once, two people sat in stools on either side of me speaking into their cell phones. I think they were talking with each other. Look people; if you want to isolate yourself inside the grid, please do it at home. I’m here to party.

Take the television for example. It’s not possible to mingle amongst different groups or spark unplanned adventures if everyone is hypnotized by the boob tube. I have two pieces of advice for all bars regarding televisions:

1. Unless you’re trying to be a sports bar, don’t have televisions.
2. Don’t try to be a sports bar.

Fifteen years ago, I vowed to never pay for cable again. This was the greatest decision of my life (sadly, this is accurate. I really haven’t made many good decisions).  Along with this choice, I have taken steps to better tune my awareness to the spirit of authentic culture. Throughout these years, I have continued eliminating electronic gadgets and machinery from my life. Some have argued that my position is reactionary and irrational, leading to a decay in my living standard. Certainly these technologies bring their conveniences, but there is always a cost. Commitment to true art must take priority over comfort, social status, family, friends, and even my own biological survival. So now, no TV, no cell phone, no internet (not even e-mail), no car, no phone, no video games, and no electronic pocket massage toys (well, I haven’t given up Mr. Giggles).   No one is perfect.

The letter of the law shall never be permitted to strangle the Spirit of the Law (unless, of course, the spirit and the law agree upon a safe word first).

Article 1: All persons including patrons, barstaff, drunks, and derelicts have the un-ale-ienable right to life, festivity, and the pursuit of lap-dance chicks.

Article 2: The right to bare women.

Article 3: If the keg kicks before the beer is filled, the remaining brew is given to the patron for free. (The kicked pitcher dilemma has yet to be determined by the Fatty Liver Society (FLS).)

Article 4: All pint glasses must hold at least 16 fluid ounces.  Ten ounce pints?  Fuck you!

Article 5: All standard pints must be cheaper, per ounce, than standard mugs, and all pitchers must be cheaper than pints. (Does not apply to happy hour specials.)

Article 6: The bartender or barmaid may refuse alcohol to any patron for any reason…except on the basis of religion, race, gender, or affiliation to the Daily Discord (you know who you are, barkeep!).

Article 7: All jukeboxes must display the number of unselected songs not yet played, or else the staff must refund money paid for un-played songs (Notable exception: all ABBA and Phil Collins songs are non-refundable).

Article 8: The ‘play now’ option is forever banished from the bar scene (I don’t care how much cash you’re willing to spend, butting in line is unkegstitutional).

Article 9: There IS no Article 9.

Article 10: If wing dings are served instead of chicken wings, then the word ‘ding’ had BETTER appear somewhere on the menu description.

Article 11: Televisions detract from the authentic party experience.  No televisions allowed in bars (unless you are a sports bar).

Article 12: Don’t be a sports bar.

Night after night, Michael Savage generates the most entertainment bang for your meaningful discourse buck (now worth 50 cents). He’s your crazy obnoxious free-ranting uncle backed by a scientific PhD and a deep historical understanding of world events. He’s well-versed, well-spoken, principled, and enraged about all the political compromise. In between his political rants, he tells rich stories and intriguing anecdotes. But he is damn controversial: “Their women are ugly.  They cover their faces with veils. Our women are beautiful; we show em’ off in centerfolds.”  He would make a great Danish cartoonist.

Of all the talk-shows, TV, internet, or radio commentary, Michael Savage has most consistently kept my interest (barring Lesbiangladiators.com). “Borders, language and culture,” is his slogan, and the simplicity of his message, and the intensity of his conviction has transcended his character outright. Savage, of course, is not without flaws: his angry reactions sometimes lead to over-dramatization and the mis-assessment of news stories.  He is not beyond resorting to insult, name calling, and hanging-up.  Oh, and he rarely admits a mistake (such as his boycott of Lesbiangladiators.com).

From the perspective of the individual-objective (brain) quadrant, Savage rates high. He is a scientist with an understanding of history and economics. He expresses clear consistent and constitutionally based political opinions. He often has expert guests to speak about the crucial issues of our time. (B)

From the individual/subjective (self) quadrant, Savage performs fairly well. Granted he does not seem to explore any integral or transpersonal thought, but he is not without self-reflection. He often demonstrates deep personal insight and soul-searching. His interpretation of religion is often egocentric and self-serving.  But he is open-minded to exploring many other beliefs and practices (i.e., his weekly Wiccan Cannibal Necrophelia workshops).  He has studied and encourages alternative medicine and is highly critical of the quick-fix feel-good culture of psychiatry and medication.  (B +)

From the objective/plural (society) quadrant, he is often the first to spot and speak of the hypocrisy present on both the left and right. He has many enemies, Islamic organizations, such as C.A.I.R. and left wingers like Media Matters who have orchestrated campaigns to silence his “hate-speech” by petitioning his advertisers. It’s true that Savage could be bettered by an integral section to his library; I’d love to hear him and Ken Wilber debate politics. I hereby call for an integration of the nationalism of Savage with the integralism of Wilber and a Transcendence into the Transnational movement…or Transcosmetic movement as it has come to be called. (B+)

Savage is a maniac on a mission. He is the American embodiment of free speech. You may not agree with what he says, but I strongly advise you to give up your very life for his right to say it, because if his speech is silenced, then you and I are next.  Well…I’m probably next, but then I’m sure they’ll get to you, eventually—is my point.  With his recent controversy, his talk show has been elevated to the level of an epic battle between freedom and tyranny. (A –)

Oh, boohoo. Michael Savage is so mean and insulting—that’s what freedom of speech is all about, asshole. It’s the right to offend people on principle, dick wad. Savage is a recent recipient of the “Freedom of Speech Award,” but he’s not allowed to talk about it publicly.  

Is America heading toward a Fairness Doctrine ensuring that radio speech is a balanced blah between the worthless middle right and the pointless middle left? Even though Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson have no viable audience should radio stations be forced to give them equal time with the racist Imus and the hatemonger Savage?  We could give Shari a Law defenders equal time with the redneck American Constitutionalists. Islam can be given the status of an oppressed minority as colonial Christian Teddy Bear teachers and hateful Holland Cartoonists are escorted off to sensitivity camps. Sounds very American—at least how it is currently being redefined. 

This war is a war over ideas, and Michael Savage is now on the front line. Medic!  Medic!  (Overall grade A –)

I love walking out my front door without a plan. Destinationless, I step into Limbo and keep trekking on a whim. This Limbo road is long and lonely, but we continue in pursuit of the perfect sanctuary hangout with lively atmosphere, inside art, outside garden, refined beverages, and characters all sizzling with inspiration. This method has stimulated much spontaneous creativity, frequent synchronistic encounters, heart-pounding adventures, a handful of citations, a restraining order, and one public gastric disruption described in court as “serving no legitimate purpose.”

It’s not the particular place, it’s the state of mind, and yet an establishment can institute an atmosphere, character, and quality that encourage this state. Wit spews from the lips like rabid rivers of lava burning and drowning us dead and awakened into our dawning enlightened life…or else I could end up in Carl’s at last call (part dive bar, part Clockwork Orange) pinned to something vaguely feminine.

The true greatness of a coffee shop, brewpub, bar, or diner shall be assessed by its potential to facilitate cultural experiences that are spontaneous, dynamic, and profound. This intangible quality is the most important element of any hangout.

As a cultural facilitator, my job is to transform parties into art exhibits and art exhibits into parties. There are certain criteria to consider. The setup should encourage a free flow throughout and amongst all social circles.  We can read or reflect alone, spontaneously jump into a conversation with strangers, or lead naked conga lines.

In order to stimulate the spirit of enthusiasm, an establishment must play good music that compliments the atmosphere, characters, and mood. Provide quality goods and services, and expel anything that inhibits this ever-important soul transformation (except my friend Shag).

Spatial limitation can strangle the life out of festivities (that’s m’s job). Be careful to consider the feng shui of the place and encourage a flow that keeps the energy circulating. Time limitations also inhibit enthusiasm. This ‘last call’ experiment has failed miserably. Some of my best festivities don’t get full-flailing until dawn.  On that note, drunk tanks should have breakfast specials.

Electronic gadgets distract people from the possibility of authentic interactions and have no place in social settings. I don’t even like to see cell phones in public. Once, two people sat in stools on either side of me speaking into their cell phones. I think they were talking with each other. Look people; if you want to isolate yourself inside the grid, please do it at home. I’m here to party.

Take the television for example. It’s not possible to mingle amongst different groups or spark unplanned adventures if everyone is hypnotized by the boob tube. I have two pieces of advice for all bars regarding televisions:

1. Unless you’re trying to be a sports bar, don’t have televisions.
2. Don’t try to be a sports bar.

Fifteen years ago, I vowed to never pay for cable again. This was the greatest decision of my life (sadly, this is accurate. I really haven’t made many good decisions).  Along with this choice, I have taken steps to better tune my awareness to the spirit of authentic culture. Throughout these years, I have continued eliminating electronic gadgets and machinery from my life. Some have argued that my position is reactionary and irrational, leading to a decay in my living standard. Certainly these technologies bring their conveniences, but there is always a cost. Commitment to true art must take priority over comfort, social status, family, friends, and even my own biological survival. So now, no TV, no cell phone, no internet (not even e-mail), no car, no phone, no video games, and no electronic pocket massage toys (well, I haven’t given up Mr. Giggles).   No one is perfect.