We built this

The average Illinoisan's reaction upon learning of the Capitol Renovation project (a month before it ended)

So I work in government, doing government things. It's what I've always wanted to do, government/politics, and now I'm doing it. I promise, it's not usually the shit show you're seeing unfold right now in DC. Nor is it the slimey, greasy betrayal-murder-fest portrayed in House of Cards (an excellent show, despite that). While discussing said show a friend on Facebook, said something like 'dirty politics are the only kind ;)' (yet it was capped off with an actual winky face). I suppose it's something of a misnomer to call this person a friend, but this bothered me all the same. People who have a surface level knowledge of/interest in politics, particularly those who may or may not participate in government simulations here in our fine state, tend to relish 'dirty' politics in a way that is somewhat sickening. Sure, backhanded methods get things done some times, but government works best when people work together and actually play by the rules. The celebration in pop culture of political trickery and betrayal only makes it more alluring to the ambitious, and leaves less room for those doing good work. That, however, is not what I'm here to talk about. This post is regarding something more specific, and more timely

In my new job, I work here, the Illinois State Capitol:

It's a big, beautiful building of the Renaissance Revival style. It's not the prettiest building I've ever seen, but it is the prettiest in Illinois.

I've always, since I was young, had an affinity for public buildings. County courthouses, capitols, old post offices, and finally the massive, timeless, beautifully crafted federal buildings in DC have always captivated me. They have a grandness to them: a sovereign pride that I find riveting. So one of my state's most recent controversies was particularly troubling for me.

A couple years ago the western wing of the Capitol went under reconstruction, mainly to bring it up to fire code, but also to refurbish and replace many of the old materials throughout the wing. The Capitol is well over a century old and, as is the case with many public buildings, doesn't see the sort of regular maintenance you may see in the private sector. Not to say it was ever a hole, but it was due for some improvements. For well over 90% of the renovation things were quiet, with the only people unhappy about the whole project being legislative and executive staffers cast into a nearby state building with an asbestos issue for the duration of the rebuild.

However because of whatever combination of reasons: pension reform, an upcoming election, Bill Daley still pretending to be relevant; it came to WE THE PEOPLE's attention in late August. What specifically came to their attention were these:

The three sets of copper doors installed in the Capitol's west entrance rang up a bill of about $669,000. Outrage ensued. Angry letters, screaming editorials, and unlimited pontificating ensued, whipping the Illinois electorate into a froth. An angry, shouty froth. 'How can we spend so much money on doors and chandeliers when we're cutting our pensions to death' they asked; 'how can you close down an unemployment office and still pay for these doors?' they yelled; 'the economy is in ruin (not really, see Spain), how can we afford these' others complained; or even the classic 'you raised my taxes to build those?! (because you should only pay taxes for services you receive directly, of course).

So what's my problem with all this citizen outrage?

It's not that the funds for the renovation come from a special fund specifically for the Capitol, that has existed for years, and that can't be drawn away from for other ventures (nor can it draw from other funds), or that while $669,000 is a lot to a family of four it's next to nothing for a state of 14 million, or that it doesn't even begin to compare to the amount of money the pension issue entails (mega billions, yo. Warren Buffett couldn't pay down our pension debt), or most importantly that the plan had been approved by both sides, gone completely under the radar, and been in the works prior to the budgetary shit show that now engulfs the state. It's something a little more abstract.

Since the 80's or so Americans have come to the conclusion that government must have a strong 'return on investment' for them, and that if something they pay into doesn't financially profit them, then they shouldn't pay for it. It's the logical conclusion of the 'let's run government like a business' manure proffered by Post-Reagan Republicans.

Sure, government should be fiscally responsible, sure it should manage money responsibly, sure it should be efficient. That said, there's more to governing than turning a profit. The Capitol likely costs each Illinoisan less than $5 annually, and the return we get for that is astounding.

The Illinois Capitol is a cathedral of craftsmanship, awe inspiring, intricate, and beautiful, and when I was young it inspired me. Government should not be housed in cold, gray, featureless mausoleums, but instead in buildings that show what our collective action, as a county, as a state, as a country can build. Public buildings are the physical evidence, plain for all to see, of how much we can make when we all contribute, of what we as a society can build. 

But it's more than that, it's the idea that you, as an Illinoisan, can walk into this building for no reason other than to be there, and that you, in some small way, had a hand in building this, that you have partial ownership to this monument to our republic. When people enter a public building they shouldn't say 'We built this' in anger, their faces contorted in disgust. People should be able to say 'We built this' with pride, with the understanding that it is theirs as much as it is the legislators who reside in it. I recently saw a post on a news blog sum it up a bit more succinctly then I have:

"...attempting to aggrandize self-government is not an entirely contemptible gesture, and in this case it left the people with a museum of vanished craftmanship that dazzles by its sheer exuberance if not its taste. It is unique, priceless, irreplaceable. Almost everyone who sees it with unjaundiced eyes realizes that we could never do that today. Sadder still, we would never dare to try."

Our public works are what they are for a reason. They remind us of our capability when we work together, of the fundamental understanding that we as a society are more than the sum of our individual parts, and that we all do better individually when we do not function only as individuals.They are there to inspire others to the call of service, and to memorialize in history our great gamble to govern ourselves and one another. Are the doors, the chandeliers, and the stained glass that prompted so much ire here at a bad time? Sure. But a century from now they will inspire our children and our grand-children the same as other works inspired us, there's no way to put a price tag on that.

BEWARE I LIIIIIVE

Run, run!
(Points of absolutely no value if you can identify where this comes from. USE GOOGLE AND I WILL SLAY YOU!)

Okay, real talk: this blog has not gotten the attention from me it deserves as of late. To be fair I've been really busy. Well, okay, maybe only kind of busy, so my bad. That said new lifey things are settling down a bit now so I feel like I can start producing again. The good news is I have a massive backlog of movies, shows, beers, and foods I've made to work through now. The bad news: the likelihood of my finding the motivation to power through all of them in a particularly timely way is roughly correspondent to my winning the lottery I didn't buy a ticket to.

That said there will be several posts in the near future for you to look forward to. There will be some food things, a pseudo-political post, a showing of my new abode, and an update on Shortstack, at the very least. Speaking of:

Still rude dudein'

The Government may be shut down, but this blog is not, and until it receives federal funding of some sort (who knows, these guys do) I will be trying to put together new things with which to entertain your brain-parts. Now, MUSIC:

I Hate Myself for Loving You

It becomes relevant, eventually

I'm a political person, a very political person. So much so that I've chosen to do it for money for the rest of ever. So as you might expect, my politics drive a lot of my actions. After all, why the hell else would someone put themselves through the act of canvassing? You have to love the fight to do shit like that.

That said, my politics doesn't really drive my acts as a consumer. Last year when everybody was getting all pissed off (in either direction, really) about Chick-Fil-A, I kept on eating it. When Deepwater Horizon became the world's largest money geyser I kept going to BP stations, if that's what was close. Was it because I supported these companies in all their actions and positions? Nope. Why? Because Chick-Fil-A is goddamn good. No, I mean that's definitely part of it, but there's more to it. First of all, I mean, this. If a company's owner believes something fine, as long as they aren't legislating it I don't see why I should care. Second, and more importantly, I don't think most boycotts are effective today, given the way companies do business and the way executives get paid. Consider that CEOs today now make two hundred seventy-three times the average workers salary, obviously taking care of the company every man is not at the top of the priority list. If a CEO, like say Chick-Fil-A's owner, has a deeply held, dyed-in-the-wool ignorant old codge sort of conviction, he's not giving it up. EVER. If his profits drop by 10% because of that conviction (which pretty much never happens anyway), he still isn't going to change his mind, and if they did he'd gladly just lay off some people instead of actually changing his position. So when you boycott most places, especially places that are franchised and individually owned (like gas stations) you aren't punishing this guy, you're more likely punishing him:

Look in his eyes, the pain is all in the eyes.

This position of mine has made a lot of people, typically on my side of the aisle, very angry.

Whateva.

That said, recently, I've run into one that I do feel pretty shitty about, and can't stop myself from indulging in. Oberweis Dairy. Oberweis is, predictably, owned by Jim Oberweis, who in addition to being a business owner is a professional asshole and a State Senator in my very own Great State of Illinois. First of all, Jim Oberweis has made it quite clear, he wants to be everything but a dairy owner. He's run for office SIX times! Five of those runs ended in terrible failure, as he slowly lowered his sights from United State Senator, to Governor, to House Rep, to finally a lowly State Senate seat (yet somehow people still bought that this time he really really had always wanted to be state senator). The man wants a constitutional amendment defining marriage in a blue state, he's almost comically anti-immigrant (for God's sake he's flying in his helicopter while bitching about impoverished minorities [perfectly good time to mention that he uses immigrant labor in his business]), supports right to work laws, and school vouchers that defund already cripplingly underfunded public schools. He's probably the most white-hot conservative individual in the Illinois Senate. But it's more personal than that. My brother ran his general election opponent's campaign. It was a race that couldn't be won, and to be fair, despite all the circumstances, the campaign outperformed the district's conservative lean. Still, he had to deal with Oberweis personally, fighting tooth and nail to get the district as far from him as possible.

I was warned about his products. About the ice cream, about the milkshakes, about the blessed chocolate milk. I was warned that if I had them, there'd be no going back. Again, I'm not one for boycotts, but I can get all of those things elsewhere, and I really didn't want to line his pockets. But I tried them anyway, and, well.

It's good, wayyyyyyy too good. I wasn't even entirely sure milk could taste that good. It's also actually available here in town, which means I have a quandary. Except to say it's a quandary is not quite correct, given that I've pretty much resigned myself to buying their shit now. I'm a passionate individual, and I most certainly have a side, but goddamn do I love good food. Do my dollars from the occasional gallon of milk (or the slightly more occasional half-gallon of chocolate milk [praise be its name]) make a big difference to Jim Oberweis or his future ambitions? No. Do I still feel like a bit of a tool for it? Yeah, totally. But it wasn't even remotely enough to stop me from ending up like this.

It's actually taunting me. Smug bastard.

And now a song from an artist, for which the post was named, that there is absolutely no shame in enjoying. Joan Jett:

The Pseudo-Suck

Okay, so let's make it clear. I've got a great job that I start a week from Monday. I have a new apartment that I love and a new bunny I love a little more.That said, life is uh, tricky right at the moment. I've come to realize that in between the oft-mentioned Suck and the Post-Suck there is the 'Pseudo-Suck' which is largely defined by the process of uprooting one's entire life in order to move into the next phase of life. This means renting an apartment, setting up utilities, getting furniture, and driving all over kingdom-come to do these things. Some of these things I've never done on my own before and am having to learn very, very quickly, which hopefully will not end in disaster.

Basically everyday

It's an expensive process that comes right after a period characterized by unemployment. See the problem? The Pseudo-Suck is a mix of hope, frustration, and knowledge that the worst is over; essentially Post-War Europe. It's like 'Oh you need to buy these sofas and this table and a futon and set up the internet and I'm like:

Example. Here's what my last few days looked like.
Friday: Drive to Champaign to retrieve three bookcases ($40) and 1 futon ($25) for the new apartment. 3 hours.
Saturday: Drive to Algonquin to get a new bun (failed) get cage ($10) and retrieve table, tv and lamps from ladyfriend's house. Gas ($30). 13 hours.
Sunday: Drive to Champaign to get entertainment center ($35). Four hours.
Monday: Drive to Lonedell, MO to get bun ($25) and bun equipment ($30). Gas ($30). 7 hours.
Tuesday: Go to Springfield to do ALL THE UNPACKING. Start internet service ($100). 5 hours.

I mean obviously in the end it will be worth it, a new place that's mine-all-mine, a little fuzz ball to share it with, and all the used furniture a guy could ever want. It's just the getting there that's extraordinarily difficult. Also, there has been a rabbit on my back for about 75% of this post's writing. Because it's where about 3/4s of my current furniture and shit comes from, this song will top off the post. (sorry, I know it's been done to death a bit)

Shortstack

Finally, after much hunting, stress, and difficulty, I found him. The perfect, loveliest rabbit I could have hoped for. As decided by both those of you who voted (thanks and stuff) and me (I would have probably picked it anyway) my new bun is named Shortstack. This is his face:

Shortstack

Getting to this lovely, perfect bun was a saga, and a hard one. First we went to Champaign, where the Champaign County Humane Society is. Nice people, great facility, sweet animals. I met another looker there by the name of Mackenzie/aka the bun that got away. This is her:

Not Shorstack

She is (was?) a Netherland Dwarf, as is Shortstack. She, however, got away. Some little girl (the staff said so) adopted her out from under us at the last minute. If I ever meet this 'little girl' character I'm not gonna lie, I'll probably beat her up. It can't be hard.
Next we went far up north to Algonquin, IL, A whopping four hours and change away, to No Splitting Hairs. NSH is a great shelter with some really good people helping out there, but all of their rabbits were HUGE, like 2-4 Houdinis in size. Houdini came along for the trip, and was not happy to meet rabbits several times her size. We left Algonquin empty handed, which was disappointing, given the travel and expense. We tried to make a last minute craigslist rush while we were still up north, but unsurprisingly a lot of the people selling rabbits on their were super shady (although one of them was really nice).
Finally, we found a post from a town called Lonedell in Missouri, about an hour south of St. Louis. That was how Shortstack came about, and after a three hour trip there and an identically long one back, we had our second rabbit. Houdini was very excited

Courtney's work

Shortstack, however, is very different from Houdini, and demonstrates just how varied rabbits can be. Where Houdini is oblivious to threats (aggressive cats, shoe clad feet, etc), gregarious, and adventurous Shortstack is cautious to a fault and protective of his territory. On his first night home he barely moved at all, but instead hunkered down against the floor, looking like an eared eggplant. He even went and tucked himself in behind my Dad's neck as a hiding place (cuteshit). Houdini was excited as ever, and scared the living shit out of the newcomer, who eventually started chasing her out of his little 'safe zones' that he'd become comfortable enough to move around.
Over the last few days, however, he's warmed up significantly, recovering from the trauma of being uprooted. He's currently hopping and running around the bed that I'm in. He and Houdini are still not best friends by any means, but we're starting to see them warm up to each other. It's clear they want to be friends, they're both quite curious about each other, but also both afraid of having their territory invaded.

Work in progress

He's now comfortable enough to roam around, sniff Courtney and I, and do little happy hops around his play spaces. Sometimes he even lets us pet him, something that's become increasingly common over the last couple days.

Hiding: Shortstack's 2nd favorite activity behind exploring.

We've got a ways to go, he's still just a little 8-week old baby and has much to learn, but in a month or two he'll be every bit the loving, playful bunny we've come to know in Houdini.

I Made a Food Pt. 1

Too cute to eat right? Clearly why I used beef.

As promised in the first post, this blog will partially be about cooking and eating (and drinking). So, as a result, when I make a new thing and am pleased with the result I will make a post so you can make it too, if you choose. I will also, at the end of each week (hopefully), make a quick post profiling and rating the things I've tried that week be it shows, liquor, beer, or restaurants (maybe music too, unsure just yet). So that being said the first thing I'll put up is Shepherd's Pie, which I took a swing at a couple nights ago, and was tremendously pleased with.

Shepherd's Pie

It's worth pointing out that I do things a bit differently with this dish than most. Namely I use a red wine base (similar to beef bourguignon) as opposed to Worcestershire and I also use chunked stew meet instead of any ground concoction, be it beef or lamb. It's also worth noting that I tend to cook very informally, I don't use recipes too often (beyond as a basis for inspiration) and I don't tend to measure ingredients to carefully unless I'm baking (which is all chemistry). I taste what I'm making frequently until it's the way I want it, according to the people who eat my food, this seems to be working. For your sake I will try to approximate the measures I used. The recipe serves 3-5 people and takes about 2 hours to make. To start you will want two teams of ingredients: A.) the stew team; B.) The potato team.

 The Stew Team (pretend that red potato isn't here)

1 lb package beef stew meat

1 med-large onion

1 12-16 oz package mushroom

4-5 carrots

2 cloves garlic

1 bottle Pinot Noir (Cabernet Sauvignon would work well too)

1/2 tbs butter

1/4 cup green onions

2-3 beef bouillon cubes

Salt

Pepper

Thyme

Fresh sage

Bay leaves

Rosemary

1 tsp ketchup

The Potato Team (this is where the potato goes)

1 1/2 lb red potatoes (or whatever variety you like most)

4-6 oz sharp cheddar (don't half-ass with mild)
Heavy whipping cream
1 egg yolk
2 tbsp butter

For this you'll require one pot with a not non-stick surface (you'll need it for deglazing), one slightly larger pot, and one casserole dish. Start by peeling the carrots and onions and then chopping them. I gave the carrots a simple cut and cut the onion in half before slicing it into long strips. Usually I cut onions smaller but in this dish they'll cook down so much that it's better to have them a bit bigger. Mince up the garlic and then throw the three of them in the pot with the pad of butter on med-high heat. Cook long enough that the onions and garlic sweat out a bit and provide a little liquid (they should look fairly translucent around that point). If any of the ingredients stick a little bit that's okay, you'll want some crispy bits on the bottom of the pan when you deglaze it.
While that's going on peel your potatoes, and cut them into rough cubes, then toss them in some water and set that to boil. This will take a while, so don't pay it too much mind while the more important things are happening in the stew pot.

Next throw in the stew meat and let it get a good sear on it (your pan will need to be plenty hot for that), pretty quickly you'll find you've got a lot of liquid from the meat built up. This should take about 5-10 minutes. Take the accumulated ingredients out and put them somewhere temporarily, I used my casserole dish for the job. You should have an empty pan now with plenty of crispy bits and flavorful residue from what you've cooked so far. Get that pan good and hot and then pour in about 1/3-1/2 of the bottle of red wine. It will his and sear and make mean noises but don't worry, that's what it's supposed to do, just stir and try to scrape all the stuff off the pans bottom. Once that's done toss your other ingredients back into your deglazed pan. Put your bouillon cubes in now alongside a generous amount of thyme, some salt and pepper, a pinch of rosemary, 2-3 bay leaves, and some fresh sage (I used about 4 or 5 small sprigs).  Bear in mind that the sage, bay leaves, and thyme should be the herbs primarily flavoring the stew. Now is also the time to toss in the mushrooms, they need to go in late so they don't cook down into nothing. If you feel your stew doesn't have enough tanginess after about twenty minutes at a quiet simmer, add the ketchup.

 Still in development

Your potats should be nearing done by now. Pluck a chunk out and press it with a fork, if it crumbles nicely it's probably done, I always taste mine to be sure. Drain the potats into a colander and clean the pot of the accumulated starchy gunk. Put the potatoes back in the pot and mash the bejesus out of them. Add the butter and a healthy splash of cream to help give them a smooth consistency. Last, while they're still hot, add 1 egg yolk (a tip I got from an Alton Brown version) and stir it in very quickly (so it doesn't form up). It'll give your potats a nice silky quality and help them form together well once they bake. Salt and pepper the mashed potatoes generously.

Last throw in the green onions for some character and a bit of bright flavor in what will be a very heavy, rich dish. Give that another ten minutes or so until it's reduced and has a nice thickness two it, something of a brown gravy like consistency. If you feel you need to add more red wine do so, I did, and just give it some more time to reduce (or if you're feeling impatient, throw in a little corn flour blended with water, that thickens things right up).

Finished stew

Spray down your casserole dish with some non-stick spray (so your stew doesn't burn and taste like ass) and pour the stew in, spreading it evenly across the pan. You may want to take out the bay leaves, as biting into one is not entirely pleasant. I left mine in because they're A.) hard to miss and B.) benefit the dish by being left to contribute more during the baking.

Next, with a rubber spatula, scrape out your potatoes and spread them across the top of the stew (this part can be a little trying, but just keep at it).

Once that's done pop the pie into the oven at 400 degrees for 25-30 minutes, long enough for the crust to turn a light gold. Don't cheese the pie yet, seriously, at that temperature with that much time the cheese will just get nasty. A lot of people like to top casseroles with toasted cheese masses, I do not. Instead take the pie out once you have about five minutes left and sprinkle the cheese on then. Return it to the over, wait it out, then retrieve it again. Garnish the entree with a couple sprigs of parsley and a little green onion, if you so please.

Let it cool for a bit so you don't injure your guests (unless that's a priority for you in which case by all means), then dig in! In the end remember, food is freedom, and unless you're making pastries you can bend, play with, and distort any part of a recipe as much and as often as you please. This is how I made this, and I loved how it turned out, but do whatever you want with it, it's your kitchen. Now, a song:

So I worked in a Liquor Store...

Does this count as an animal picture?

For the last couple months of The Suck I found pseudo-gainful employment in a local liquor store. My last day was yesterday. I haven't mentioned it much through any of my social media because, well, people don't really write home about that sort of thing. It has however paid the bills in the interim time leading up to my grown-up job, and is overall a pretty sweet gig as part-time work goes (and hopefully the last part time work I ever do). I work with about four other people, some of whom were pretty cool people. My boss, who may be some strange alien in people skin is actually a really cool guy, and great to work for (usually), he's just, uh, strange. Working there, however, did also have some drawbacks. The list goes about as follows:

Pros:
Employee discount on some of my favorite products to put in mah body
Having a store all to myself most of the time
No wretched, 'folksy' uniform to wear (like another part-time job I worked in the past)
Chairs
If I got too hot, I could always spend a minute or two in a walk in cooler.
A water cooler!
How many other part-time jobs let you have food delivered to work whenever the hell you want?
Due to the short-term nature of my employment, pay in cash.
The extreme joy I get from shutting people down for expired/missing/clearly-not-yours-you're-not-even-asian IDs.
This is a lengthy one, but one I think everyone can relate to. When I sell people something I almost always say "Enjoy!" as they leave. They almost always in turn say "You too!" even though I am almost certainly not going to be sharing their booze with them. We've all been in that situation, whether at a restaurant or movie theater or liquor store, we've been there, and it sucks. Once I realized I could create this situation for others, well.
This:

Why are you so perfect?

Cons:
The Customers (click both of the words)
Having a store all to myself most of the time
Too many six-legged companions in the store come late evening
The music; unless you're really fond of the entire discography of Lynyrd Skynyrd and AC/DC
Our broken A/C
The propensity of some customers, usually a certain sort of individual, to share with me their entire life stories/personal tragedies/life greatest hits stories.

Wanting to give people advice on awesome things to drink, but realizing 98.8% of people buy NaturalKeyWeiserMiller Lite.

So as the list may show, it's got its ups and downs, but overall I thought it was a pretty good way to pass the time. Honestly, in retrospect, I wish I had worked there, or a place like it, for the duration of my time in college instead of where I did. Oh well, it was a good way to spend a couple months and an even better way to earn money for my rapidly accumulating expenses (more on that later). This song seems to fit well with the store, and is one of my favorites from the time period: