Well, last night it finally happened: we were robbed.

I'm still so pissed off about it that it's difficult to blog. Gnnnaaagh. Who does that? Who looks at someone else's hard-earned assets and decides that they deserve it far more. We don't have much, you son of a bitch! What's the matter with you?!

The story: I pulled up to our garage last night to find it wide open and our neighbor washing his truck outside it. I knew that Carey was working a late night, so this was disconcerting. The neighbor moved his truck graciously and I asked him, "why is my garage door open?"

"I don't know. It was like that when I came out here. I assumed your wife was getting something out of it and hadn't closed it yet."

"Have you seen her?"

"No. She's not home?"

I shrugged nervously and looked in the garage. Everything seemed in order... except for Carey's new bike. The one we bought for her birthday several months ago? The one that's only been ridden twice? The one that we scrimped to purchase, even when our bank account was dismally low? Well, the bike was gone.

I went into the apartment and, sure enough, no Carey. I called her cell.

"Hello?"

"Care, where are you?"

"I'm on my way home. What's wrong?"

"Why was the garage door open?"

"..."

"Carey."

"Oh, God. What do you mean?"

"I got home about a minute ago and the garage door was wide open. Did you leave it up?"

"No, I... well, I don't know. I was in a hurry this morning. I ran back in for my purse... So, maybe... is anything missing?"

"Your bike is gone."

"OH NO. It's gone?! It's STOLEN?!"

"Where are you? When are you going to be home?"

"I'm five minutes away. Oh, God."

"I'll talk to you when you get here."

She got home and it all came out. She was running late and had neglected to close the garage door. Some clown had wandered in after she'd left, broad daylight, and swiped the bike (possibly some other stuff as well, but we're not sure yet). Hundreds of dollars gone in a blink.

So, we panicked a bit. We tried to find people around our building who might have seen anything go down, but no luck. (We even rang Snake Guy's doorbell. Desperate, I tell you.) I had a hair appointment at Atlantic Studios (which was an adventure in its own right, let me tell you), so I had to go, but Carey called the police. Unfortunately, the police told her there's nothing they can do about stolen bikes, but she was welcome to give them a statement.

And that's it. I'm very, very annoyed. I don't really blame Carey. Mistakes happen. I've certainly done my share of blunders. I blame the bastards who stole our stuff, though, let me just tell you. In the end, I suppose it's a good security lesson about Long Beach. Nothing goes unlocked ever again.

Ever again.

Pricks.

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The hair salon was a remarkable experience. First of all, I've never been to a "salon" before. It's all too fancy and... okay, yeah, I'll say it: it's all too fruity for me. Nonetheless, Carey advised that, if I'm going to have long hair, it needs to have a "style" and BestClips simply doesn't have the talent to make it work. The days of the $8 haircut are long gone if I'm going to have free-flowing locks.

So, I sat down and my "stylist" came over. Her name is Blu. (Short for, believe it or not, SilveryBlu. Yes, it is the name her parents gave her and, yes, they were hippies. No middle name, just SilveryBlu. After all, who needs a middle name when you've already got a masterpiece like that to start things off?)

She asked what kind of cut I was looking for and I told her that I really didn't know and, sorry, I'm a bit distracted because we were just robbed. She was sympathetic and asked if a glass of wine would calm my nerves. I declined, but, yow... wine in a hair-cutting place? I guess this really isn't BestClips.

In the end, I told her that I'm still trying to decide whether long hair works for me and I'd be open to suggestions. She had a few and went to work. Nice girl, this Blu, and she seemed to know what she was doing. She was very forgiving about my main hair priority: as little effort as I can get away with in the morning.

When she finished, it... well, I'll admit it: I didn't see much difference, which was a surprise because there was loads of my hair on the ground all around me. It was obvious that regular joes that know little to nil about hair styles were a rarity at Atlantic Studios. But, I was never really made to feel bad about it. Instead, I felt like family. Cheesy, yeah, but it's the truth.

Upon arriving back home, Carey was cheered from her bicycle woes slightly by the sight of my newly-salonned pate. "It just looks so good... so styled!" Well, thanks, I guess. I'm glad SOMEbody sees it.

Interesting little outing, though. Actually, kind of nice to have someone do your hair without it being like an assembly-line-haircut-in-a-can experience. And, I'll admit it: I did enjoy getting to know Blu.

Jeez. Maybe I'll go back.

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Finally, a gi-gundous JeremyBear.com THANK YOU to my very favorite Chinaman in the world, Mr. Jerry Liu. Jerry was kind enough to send me the appropriate bits of .asp code for my homepage and scripts page. It's true: no one need fear the Suggest-A-Script form any more... it works like a charm. Give it a try! Send me a script. (If you're in doubt about whether or not an old script suggestion ever got to me... I hate to say this, but those doubts may well be grounded. I'm sorry. The form used to break all the time. But, it's all better now. So, please! Send and/or re-send!)

posted by Jeremy Bear 7:02 PM

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A rant. Brace yourself.

Censorship is an issue that's troubled me for years. Frankly, I hate the arguments for it and I hate the arguments against it. There's quite a buzz right now concerning the Supreme Court's ruling on installing internet filters to block pornography in public libraries. The 'Family Values' camp regards it as a triumph, while the 'Free Speech' camp regards it as a defeat. But is it a triumph? Is it a defeat?

I like the fact that I can publish whatever the (**expletive deleted**) I want on JeremyBear.com without fear of consequence, but... let's be honest... that's not entirely accurate. I have an agreement with my hosting company that I won't use my corner of cyberspace as a download center for pornographic pictures and/or movies. I'm also not allowed to use my website to teach kids how to blow up their algebra teachers' cars using rust shavings and orange juice concentrate. I can talk about how much I love and/or hate the United States government, but I can't use my website as a collaboration board for individuals who plan on taking out the President with a sniper rifle.

Not that I'd ever want to do any of these things. (Please don't flag my site, CIA. It's all harmless.)

But, is that censorship? Well, I think so. Sure, to a certain degree. Am I for censorship? Well, maybe, to a certain degree. I don't know.

I can envision a day when the exclusivity of my faith is considered "dangerous" and even "criminal", though. It's certainly happened before, so why not? It's not completely ridiculous to suppose that the same laws that protect pornographers from going to jail for their smut also protect me from going to jail for my Christian propaganda.

And, in that sense, I'm against censorship. If I do have a complaint with the whole censorship debate, it has mostly to do with the whole "you're either for it or against it" mentality. I like the fact that I can say what I believe right out loud. I'm permitted to vocally express love or hatred of anyone, however much of an ass I may look like. I can draw or paint or sculpt or write any type of story I can imagine. (A few months ago, some folks got on my case for my one-page script that portrayed God as a punisher of fat women. Others have objected to my portrayal of a gay character and still others have taken issue with the amount of swearing in both my scripts and in this Blogger... by the secular world's standards I think I'm pretty tame, but probably not so much by conservative Christian standards. Really, all I can say is I'm glad that I not only have the freedom to use the "F" word on my website... I'm also glad that others have the freedom to complain to me about it. In a warped way, it makes me happy because it makes me think a little about what's coming out of my keyboard and, at the very least, it's a good reminder that my words do indeed have an impact and that I do have a certain responsibility.)

But, back to the library thing. A lot of folks seem to feel that content filters in public libraries are a violation of the first amendment. (It should be pointed out that, if an individual wants the filters to be lifted at the console they're using, they need only ask a librarian and it's done... however, that's sparked a whole "people shouldn't have to ask to enjoy free speech" debate... oy.) I will admit that I've used the internet at consoles with content filters and... yeah, I hate it. A lot of very valuable material that isn't remotely pornographic is blocked and there's really nothing one can do about it... in fact, I tried to access JeremyBear.com at a filtered console several weeks ago and... you betcha... blocked!

Obviously, the problems with censoring material are legion and they're all dependent on establishing some sort of objective moral standard in a society that places little value on objective moral standards. I know I certainly don't have the answer. I just don't like the idea of having to choose sides in the Censorship War.

So what about it? Censorship? For or against? Good or bad? Yes or no? What's the verdict?

Er... how about... "kinda"?

posted by Jeremy Bear 9:35 AM

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Tuesday, June 24, 2003

The Escrow forms keep coming. I've scribbled my John Hancock so many times in the past couple of weeks, I'm beginning to feel like a celebrity. It's unreal. There's no way on God's earth anyone has ever sat down and read through all the home-owning forms. I asked our realtor rather pointedly if he had ever read them and he admitted that, while he knew the gist, he'd never really bothered to go through it all.

Garsh, I really hope our loan doesn't get screwed.
...

By the way, if you ever find yourself sitting on top of one-year-plus of Blogger entries, do yourself a favor and don't bother running a massive spellcheck on all of them "out of curiosity". I don't pretend to be the most intellectual or perfectionistic chap on the planet, but I was utterly horrified to discover everything I'd spelled incorrectly. I must look an utter fool. If you're reading this, please don't judge me by my imbecile-grade spelling. REALLY embarrassing. I did manage to correct the last couple of entries, but screw it for the rest of them. The world already knows I'm stupid and, unfortunately, opinions aren't retroactive.

As a point of pride, I refuse to spellcheck this entry, BTW.
...

Bit of irony I forgot to mention: apparently, 2003 is the year of home-buying for the Bear family. In this calendar year (assuming everything goes to plan with our place)... I and my wife, my dad, my mom, my sister Erin and her husband, and my other sister Lauren and her fiancee are all buying homes this year (a first-time experience for both Lauren and me). 5 properties, 5 Bears (or, former Bears in Mom's case). Both Erin and Mom are building, though, so it's double the roller-coaster for them. Weird.
...

I'm refining my thoughts on my new website and JeremyBear.com. I think the new one will purely be my design and illustration business, while JeremyBear.com will be devoted to writing. Seems to make sense. I've never really been comfortable lumping the two practices together anyhow. One tends to cheapen the other and I'd sort of like to be seen as competent in both areas.

Well, maybe competent is a bit much to hope for. "Coherent" maybe?
...

Finally, I recently discovered a website called Rob's Amazing Poem Generator. It's a fun little page that will take any webpage and generate a poem from it using text that it finds on the page in question. I gave it the URL of my Blogger, and here's the poem it wrote for me:

Jeremy Bear 10:years from the original
fake confession had
to say:
what impressed me as probably
the Brick
Testament. Apparently,
and the even a mad dash of years
to be as chuckling or somthing. But,
we d planned, but… most
important to get used to put
the head JAY: Really.
was nothing else
left. Yellows are
troubled...

Breathtaking, really. And much better than anything I came up with in high school.

posted by Jeremy Bear 10:14 PM

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Monday, June 23, 2003

Good grief, it seems our DVD troubles are back again. On the fritz! Time to send for a replacement. You know, it's things like this... the little things that drive you batty. There are so many outrageously big things going on lately and I find I'm distracted by our broken DVD player. How pathetic is that?
...

Kind of lied in my last post. When the muse strikes, she strikes. The latest script is up and this one is from my very tallest brother-in-law. Hooray for Franco Ferducci and his timely-at-the-time-he-sent-it-but-now-not-so-much title, Sniper Got You Down?. Give a read and ponder just how very silly we all are. I mean really!

posted by Jeremy Bear 1:33 AM

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