Yakuza: Japans Not-So-Secret Mafia – 60 Minutes – CBS News

Yakuza: Japans Not-So-Secret Mafia – 60 Minutes – CBS News.

Here’s the crux of the 60-Minutes segment:

1) It cost $400K to get a liver transplant from UCLA Medical Center.

2) If you have the money, you can buy your way to the top of the donor list at UCLA Medical Center.

3) A certain Japanese mob boss paid $1 million dollars for his liver transplant at UCLA Medical Center, along with a $1K donation to the medical wing that did the transplant.

So, here’s my take-away:

1) The powers that be, along with the doctors involved,  at UCLA Medical Center find no moral or ethical obligation to how they do business. And obviously, the transplant business is booming. $400K for a liver. A liver that was donated. I’d love to see the breakdown as to how and why a transplant cost so fucking much. That’s ridiculous. It’s a obscene markup, and you can’t tell me “it’s what the market will bare.” It is what it is because they dictate, and the medical community damn wells knows that.

Now to make full disclosure here, I have been very vocal against organ donation. Why? For the very reason that the medical community has been screwing over everyone who signs on the dotted line. If I held a donor card, and if something were to happen to me and my liver were to go to a needy recipient, I want my family to get a piece of that $400K. Yeah, I know what you’re thinking but I don’t hear you bitching and complaining, let alone questioning what the hospital charges. The medical community fully understands the patients, and their families, need. Their anxiety. Their stress. But most of all their need to make the pain go away. And at a time of need they, the medical community, will take financial advantage any way possible. Because they know that at a time of need, there is no negotiating, there is no shopping around for the best price, best service. It is with the understanding that you have a need to have something cured, and you will pay dearly for it. $400k for a liver, and yet I cannot sell my liver on the open market to the highest bidder, but we allow the medical community to pillage and profit without batting an eyelash.

2) The powers that be at UCLA Medical Center are morally and ethically corrupt. The Japanese mob boss, a member of the Yakuza, doesn’t look like your every day Japanese citizen. They are covered, sleeved in tattoos. To say that you were unaware that the patient was a member of…anything you’d be blind. I am not inferring that those that are tattooed or those that are sleeved are  criminals. I am saying that members of the Yakuza are blatant about their affiliation and have no qualms stating as such. Therefore, anyone involved with the mob boss’s transplant was aware of just exactly who he is, and what he represents. So, when I say that UCLA Medical Center does not give a rat’s-ass about you, I mean, they only care when money is involved. Unfortunately, in a transplant situation, it’s people’s lives, and lives were lost when others were pushed down the transplant list as the Yakuza mob boss bought his way to the top.

I don’t foresee that with Health Care Reform this will resolve itself. The transplant list process is pathetic. There is no nationwide list. There is no nationwide database that is kept up-to-date. Why? Because too many in the medical community want a piece of the action. Meaning, if a hospital can make certain claims to it’s successful transplant rate, then that hospital promotes that to the community, which in turn correlates to more donations to that hospital. But anyone who’s taken a biology class knows that human tissue can only be supported for x-amount of hours. So, if a woman in Portland, Oregon is killed in a car crash, the clock is ticking to whether or not she can have her liver donated to a teenager in Salem, Oregon, which is 60-miles away.

I idea of donating ones organ(s) at the time of death is a noble one. I look forward to where the process and application are just as noble. Until then, my answer is, “Keep your filthy hands off.”

U2 – 360; more like in need of a 180

Last Sunday the U2 tour landed in Pasadena, California.

And if you think the most important story in the Los Angeles area is the proposed football stadium, or anything with substance, you’d be dead wrong.  The biggest story in L.A. last weekend wasn’t USC’s close win over Oregon State, the Yankees beating the Angels, or the Steelers handing the Vikings their first loss. It was the U2 concert. Because the entire mainstream media has been conned by Paul McGuinness and Live Nation.

Just under 100,000 of the nearly 13 million residents attended, but the hype would have you believe that every resident was there, that U2′s show is similar to last November’s Presidential election.

And the story was not about the music.  The story is the STAGE! No, not the music, but some huge contraption that leaves a larger than life carbon foot-print.

What kind of crazy, screwed up world do we live in where a band’s stage is more important than their music?

Last Friday I found myself watching the local news, which is like viewing a cable access show, only with less nudity, but a more accurate weather forecast. So, as I’m watching the news, who despite their HD-joyfulness, these two anchors started waxing poetic about the U2 show. They proclaimed,”..there are only 20,000 parking spaces.” So, take the train (there’s one in LA?), plane, take the bus, ride a bike, hell, even walk, but for god’s sake LEAVE NOW!

They were actually promoting tailgating.  “Get there around noon, to be sure you don’t miss a note..”…of the opening auto-tuned, boring, self-proclaimed super-group, The Black Eye Peas.

Wait a second, they have football games at the Rose Bowl all the time, they sell out and the whole county doesn’t give a shit.  Why, if U2 is there, is there such a panic?

Thank you Paul McGuinness.  It’s a lack-luster story that the press is buying hook, line and sinker.  It’s damn-near a repeat of Balloon-Boy stating, “They’re doing it for the show.”

And it’s all about the stage.

It gets a full page in Sunday’s L.A. “Times”.  In color, no less. Because black-n-white just wouldn’t give it justice.

It’s an article so thin it’s almost transparent, by some guy that lives in Alabama who is devoting an entire page to the inner-workings of U2′s stage set.  This is like dedicating a full page to the “Dancing with the Starts” TV stage set-up. Who cares?

But I have to admit, it is impressive.  It’s 170 feet tall.  Modeled after the inane Theme restaurant at LAX, that I have yet to know anyone who has ever gone there, but I’m supposed to be impressed that it was modeled after it.

News organizations focus on the new and novel, not the substance.  Hence U2′s opening act. And the U2 fans don’t want to be left out.  And people, aware of previous over-the-big top shows, don’t want to miss out on this one either.

So, even though the TV anchors falsely stated that the gig had sold out in four hours, while at the same time other news outlets were stating that the band hoped to fill the Rose Bowl and set a new attendance record.

We’ve been trained that everything is national. But no one cared about the national roll-out for U2′s latest album (No Line on the Horizon…you know, Get On Your Boots and…can you even name another off the album?), this city by city unveiling of their traveling show is making headlines.  It’s like the circus has come to town, but even The Ringling Brothers clean up after themselves.

The U2 camp is savvy enough to know that music is no longer the selling point.  You’ve got to deliver spectacle. Bigger and better.  Smoke and mirrors. The art of wag-the-dog. It’s jazz-hands to the nth-degree.

And since they don’t want to prostitute the music,  unlike Madonna, Mariah Carey, and Miley Cyrus,  don’t want to dance or have sets, they’re utilizing the old concept of any 70’s rock show and pumping it up with testosterone.

How many ways is this tour wrong?

After touring all summer, it has still not in profit-mode. They have two stage set-ups, leap-frogging from one venue to the other. Each is 25 + million euro’s (yeah, do the math on that in US dollars). The carbon footprint supersedes a whole field of well-fed cattle, never mind the private jets, cargo planes, trucks, and shuttle vans.

It’s inefficient.

But has it  achieved its goal? Which is getting people to buy. Buy singles. Buy the album/cd. Buy dvd’s. Buy merchandise. Buy tickets to their concert.

The missteps with U2 this year have been duly noted.  When people were paying attention, the band played a modern day version of “Discotheque” of “Get On Your Boots”,  and making a deal with BlackBerry as opposed to Apple, showing everyone over the age of three that it is all about the money.

But they got it right with the live show.  They’ve accomplished the one thing so very important to success in today’s music business…getting people to pay attention.

Again, not for the music, but in their stage set. How would you like to be a stage actor and have everyone talk about the theater. Not the performance. Or do you go to a museum for the building and not  the artwork inside. Yeah, it’s that ridiculous.

Not enough people listen to the radio any more. It’s less rock more talk. It’s the Morning Zoo with baseless banter and high-jinks, and less about the music. It’s about flash, cash, and what-can-you-do-for-me.

I understand you’ve got to spend money to make money.  By laying out so much dough, erecting something so ridiculous, U2 has managed to focus its efforts away from what’s important, the fans, and towards the spectacle, the stage.

Besides, what do they do next?  Take over Central Park, Alcatraz, the Oprah Show?  I’d rather they do what the Allman Brothers do/did, play the Fillmore East (now the Fillmore New York at Irving Plaza, owned by LiveNation by the way), or any like-size venue, twice a week for a month. City to city, in an intimate setting where they can connect to the audience and the audience can connect to the music, which is what I have come to listen to in awe and admiration.

The End of the Email Era – WSJ.com

First and foremost, I’m looking for the next big thing in communication. Twitter and FaceBook are not it though. Anyone who tell you otherwise is full of shit. I’ve had my own experience with Twitter and FaceBook and both are barely adequate when it comes to true communication.

As of Tuesday of last week Twitter suspended me. Why? Good question. I don’t know either. According to their rules and regulations, I have not violated a single one. But I’m suspended all the same. And from their automated response , their almost non-existent customer support, I don’t think they know either. But I’m not alone. Apparently, there are a couple of thousand of us in limbo while Twitter not only doesn’t respond to our pleas but they haven’t put out any release as to why there are so many of us who were suspended around the same time. So from a company that just received $100-million in financing last month, I say fuck’em. They haven’t a clue what they are doing.

Twitter is just cb-radio with 140-characters.

Oh, and why for the love of god is anyone talking to any executive  from the antiquated, bloated AOL. No one who had an ounce of grey-matter ever took AOL seriously. Unless you were an executive from Time-Warner that was about to have a huge pay day. But of course, where are they today?

FaceBook. Really? As pleased as I am to be re-acquainted with grade school and high school friends, the site is very intrusive. And is FaceBook the answer to our communication wants and needs? With all their bullshit games, and soul-sucking applications I’m surprised that GameFly isn’t endorsing them. And do we all need a dose of ginko biloba to recall all the times someone has hacked into their system.

Is there something out there that’ll save time while improving, or just delivering communication better? Or just suck up more of it?

Since I operate on a Mac I’m not familiar with Microsoft’s SharePoint, but if it does what Mr. Teper claims then I know for damn sure the company my wife works for, that is so heavily dependent on email,  could utilize it.

For The Modern GOP, It’s A Return To The “White Voter Strategy”

For The Modern GOP, It’s A Return To The “White Voter Strategy”.

Being a white, 40-something male…I am the GOP ideal.

But I am not a card carrying Republican. Why? Because they have no answers, nor do they seem so inclined to come up with any.

You cannot lead a party, a country, with your head up your arse.

You cannot offer a budget proposal without definite numbers. You cannot hold up your proposal, John Boehner, and claim, “Here it is…the blue print for where we’re going” Suggesting that your alternative proposal to the President’s is better, when what your holding up is no more than a fifth grade book report that lacks any definition, understanding, or facts. And after getting slammed for any lack of substance, did he come back with any revisal, edit, addition to? No. Which tells me that John and party knew form the out set that what they were offering was feeble at best, or after doing further research that what the President was proposing could actually work.

You cannot lead a party when you have someone like Michelle Bachmann who talks so much crazy that the list is long and wide where she constantly sticks her feet in her mouth. And yet no one from her party has told her to shut up and sit down. Why would a party that wants to kiss up to me allow this woman to speak at anything, let alone a PTA meeting.

You cannot lead a party, or a country, John McCain when you say that the Hispanic voters are the future of the party, then vote “no” on Sotomayor’s confirmation vote. If had heard what she had to say, read her papers, he’d know that she is more moderate. Why does he think that the extreme Left is so concerned? It’s because she isn’t Left enough.

The GOP makes Ringling Bros. look Busch-league. Limbaugh, Coulter, and O’Reily continue to pander to extremist fears for ratings. And the response from my neighborhood Republican’s are, “Well, yeah, I really don’t pay attention to these guys but just because they talk crazy doesn’t mean that what they’re saying doesn’t have a ring of truth to it.” WHAT! These radio clowns are no better than the guy on the corner with the sign “The End is Near”. Crazy is crazy.

How can I possibly support your party when Republicans came out in droves for tea-baggers and “birthers”. The GOP party is a comedy of errors. And Fox News…ignorance is not bliss, it’s just adults not thinking and being stupid to capture ratings.

I wonder how the head of the RNC, Michael Steele is taking this “all white” approach. Last week the GOP was claiming racial paranoia regarding the Professor Gates incidents. And a close friend of mine pointed out that the “birther” movement was also racial bias, and after seeing this report I believing that she may be right.

I decided not to talk about the former governor of Alaska only because the material on her lack of judgement/accountability/responsibility would be pages long, and the shear lack of concern from the Republican party not to go after a better running mate for McCain just shows how desperate they are, how they demean the people of United States, and how they allowed a whack-job on the ticket.

Again, you cannot lead a party, a country, with your head up your arse.

Contador: I Will Never Admire Lance Armstrong

“Lance is the Beckham of cycling”

That is by far the most ridiculous statement I’ve read as far.

For those of us that actually watched the Tour, rather than sound bytes on ESPN, Contador is everything Lance says he is: talented, strong, and very inexperienced. Lance is getting most of the mics put in his face because he’s Lance. If you actually read any sports mag/rag you’d have read that Contador’s other teammates are right there alongside Lance.

If you know the sport, knew the odds, then you’d know that Contador was a favorite. Why? Because he’s talented, and he’s strong. His own & other teams are balking at his status. Why? BECAUSE HE’S AN INEXPERIENCED TEAM CYCLIST.

http://www.thehamandlegsshow.com/
More on Sports
Read the Article at HuffingtonPost

Michael Jackson…to bastardize Sharon Waxman..

To bastardize Sharon Waxman’s July 7th column…

In death, Michael Jackson is suddenly some kind of a hero. A humanitarian. A philanthropist. And a civil rights leader?
“Like our father Martin,” said Martin Luther King III before a live television audience of millions around the world at the memorial. “He was indeed a shining light.”
What a difference a sudden death can make.
While still alive, Michael Jackson was widely considered a weirdo. A presumed child molester. A pills-and-plastic surgery addict. And for more than a decade, he’d been relentlessly mocked by the tabloids. He was Wacko Jacko.
He certainly seemed like something other than the guy on Off the Wall & Thriller album covers.
Now that he’s gone, he’s become someone who was “persecuted,” as Bernice King said. “An American legend,” said Rep. Sheila Jackson Lee. But could someone please remind me why Queen Latifah spoke, when, in fact, she never met Michael Jackson. I was a available. I was in a Vicodin haze, but I would’ve said something nice, something from the heart.

“Maybe now,” said his brother Marlon, “they will leave you alone.” Nope. The news media is just going to visit all the places you’ve lived and talk about what various pieces of furniture went where, and what pieces the police confiscated in 2005.

We all know that it is impolite to speak ill of the dead. But this past weeks metamorphosis of Michael Jackson was nothing short of dumbfounding.

The ceremony at Staples Center was an historic moment. It may have come the closest to a worldwide communal event, outside that of a pope or royalty memorial, as we have ever seen. Especially when every news outlet was covering or showing the event.

It was an unprecedented cross between a Hollywood production and a somber memorial. It was watched by fans in every language, all over the world. But one has to wonder why none of this was done in private, or why none of the Jackson family has stepped forward to pay for such an event and leave the tab for the bankrupt City of Los Angeles to pick up. I suppose we’ll see soon enough who those that attended were there to profit, and who was there to mourn. And of course they had one-billion viewers…they weren’t reporting on anything else. Apparently, there was nothing else going on in the world.

Pop stars sang. A preacher spoke. The gospel choir harmonized. The Jackson brothers, who we’re all familiar with since their childhood, were dressed in dark suits, yellow ties and sequined gloves on their right hands.

Jackson’s three children, sat between Jackson’s parents Katherine and ‘Father of the Year’ Joe, still pushing his new record label to every microphone pushed in his face, looking very somber.

Watching the ceremony was a two-hour trek through much of American pop culture of the past 20 years, and by past 20 years I mean the 60’s through the 80’s…through his days as a 10-year-old crooner when his family said he was 6, to his teenaged years being “romantically” linked to by Brooke Shields, to his elevation to his self proclaimed “king of pop” status.

Even the media seemed to be feeling regretful, or forgetful, of spoken about him so poorly in the past.

The ever-so-respectful tones of Katie Couric and Brian Williams, as they anchored their primetime, commercial-free coverage on Tuesday, were in stark contrast to the mocking tones that usually accompany the words “Michael Jackson” when spoken from the anchor’s seat. And given the times, the circumstances, rightly so.

I admit it, for the past decade, I scratched my head and made comments to all the weirdness that was Michael Jackson when he was alive. You have to admit, he did give us all plenty of material to work from.

Now in death, I hope that we can all learn a lesson of what may happen when we put a child in a creative bubble, sequester him from the outside world under the pretexts that he’s a “genius” and allow him certain eccentricities so long as he’s making truck loads of money.

There’s no doubt the man was talented, and he brought endless amounts of pleasure to his listening audience, let alone memories, but he gave every indication, every sign, that he wanted to be a part of society, not apart from it. Too bad those that were closest him, those that called him brother, or son, appeared to be only to look upon him as a cash-cow.

Rest in peace, Mr. Jackson.

My friend Tom

On Friday March 13th, my friend Tom died.

Born in April of 1946, Tom ended an intense 10-week medical struggle in the company of his extended family. He was a beloved son to his mom, Norma, and his partner of 24 years, Bruce.

I don’t recall the first time I met him, but since he and my mother grew up across the street from one another, I always felt he was part of the family. Tom claimed that he was there at my conception, giving my bio-dad pointers, cheering him on, if you will, hoping for the best. Or as he put it, “..comforting your mother after the carnal sprint”. Which is funny because if you ever saw my bio-dad run, it wasn’t pretty. It’s usually a vision of well-coifed hair, arms flailing and chicken-legs stomping up a storm. And oddly enough my mother, many years later, and after a few drinks confirmed that “her time” with my bio-dad was EXACTLY like that.

But back to Tom.

One of my earliest conversation with Tom went something like this:

Tom: Umm…I think you should be aware, or know, that I’m gay.

Sean: Okay.

Tom: You understand what that means, right?

Sean: I do.

Tom: Okay.

Sean: You…know that I’m not, right.

Tom: I do.

Sean: Okay.

Tom: Alright. Would you like some cake?

I bring up this conversation because with Tom everything was out in the open. Nothing was taboo, and of course nothing was off-limits. There wasn’t a topic he didn’t have an opinion about. And if he wasn’t fully familiarized with the subject at hand, you could bet that he was the next time you met up.

He had an education in art education. He was an artist, and a collector. His true obsessions were Haviland china, bisque figurines, and books.  A special bookcase had to be built for all of his books, and still some had to be stacked on the floor. Organized, and visually pleasing, of course.

He was a classic movie buff, loved sitcoms, and the theater. This was one of many commonalities we had. And of course, we had differing opinions. But regardless, we both appreciated the vast intricacies of the mediums. 

Tom was the consummate customer service person. He worked for the City of Tualatin as a dispatcher, several commercial book companies, the Court of Tualatin, and his passion, working in antique malls. He retired from Powell’s Books in late 2008. His interest in, and support of, McLoughlin House in Oregon City were lifelong.

Tom’s sense of humor, always ready with a joke, was legendary. His wit was sharp and often insightful. I would like to retell some of his more humorous jokes, but I’m blushing, and it’s probably best not repeated in mixed company.

When I was working in sales while living in the Portland area, a very stressful time in my life, there was more than a time or two that I’d visit Tom as he was working at one particular antique mall in Multnomah, and we’d discuss the immense minutiae of life. We solved a lot of the world’s problems, but mostly he was there for me. Always supportive, always attentive, and always brutally honest.

Tom’s life was well-lived…and he was well-loved. 

I will miss my friend Tom.