Told You So, Beeyatches!

To revisit the Casey Serin days, this clip is such a laugh. (My god, it even uses the term "liar loans")

For all of us who wheedled, cajoled and threatened to strangle people who were defying the natural laws of "how things work", this is a great parody.



Now, as realtors walk into restaurants across America and ask for pre-printed applications to become waiters; as former bankers try to sell clothes in commission-based stores;as the Big Three automakers finally choke on their last death rattle gasps of air before passing on--they who kept shoving gas-horking SUV's down our throats as petrol was actually *unavailable* in some parts of the country, I would just like to take a minute to chuckle.

Because as Joe Six-Pack and Corporate America simultaneously bemoan the passing of the guard, I'm a part of society that still believes, strongly, in the truisms of America: innovation, work ethic, and an ability to transform as the times change.

I applaud the businesses who have done so, and have no sympathy for those who think "The Government" (and must I actually say, there's no such thing as "Government" money. It's your money. It's my money. There. Is. No. Such. Thing. As. Government. Money.) should bail them out after quarters, years, and sometimes decades of diminishing bottom lines and a complete unwillingness to accept and adopt more current ways of thinking and practice.

Bottom line, any "bailout" defies the very principles of capitalism.

I could go on and on, but instead I'll post the, perhaps, most interesting piece I've read this year. My greatest takeaway from this article was the call for Americans to once again innovate. Because it's who we are. It's what we do.

I certainly don't know when it became a virtue in this country to sit on one's ass and bemoan the state of affairs. I also don't know when it became a crime to be an intellectual in America. But both of these things seem to have happened over the course of the past decade.

Enough is enough.

For Laura

Sorry we haven't been able to connect lately. I really hate that I haven't been available to hear all about the trials, tribulations and excitement of your new life.

Along the same line of thought, I heard this song a couple of days ago...one that I haven't heard in at least a decade, but one I occasionally hummed in my head before I met you. I always thought it was such a beautiful letter so someone, so heartfelt in its intent. It was a song that I always thought should have been attached to a person, or at least a time, in my life. That was never the case.

When I heard it the other day, I immediately thought of you. I had finally found the connection to this song that would catapult it from Hallmark Greeting Card to heartfelt outpouring of gratitude. I've been pulling up the video to hear the song and am surprised to realize that there's not one word of this I would change to more appropriately express how much I think of you.

So think of this as an e-card of sorts. I suspect you're a bit ass-over-teakettle right now, as we all are after a major move. And so I hope this will be a jolt of comfort and love as you traverse your new world. I hope that whether you need it (or just for a smile), this song might pop into your head, and you'll know that there's someone who really thinks the world of you...not just your best side, not even the side you choose to show to the world, but someone who loves you on your good days and bad, and can never say "Thank You" enough.

(I especially like the Depression-Era circus sideshow element to the video. It seems all too appropriate, in ways that we'll share a jaded chuckle about sometime soon...)



(lyrics follow)

You've been so kind and generous, I don't know how you keep on giving
For your kindness I'm in debt to you
For your selflessness, my admiration
For everything you've done, you know I'm bound, I'm bound to
thank you for it....

You've been so kind and generous, I don't know how you keep on giving
For your kindness I'm in debt to you
And I never could have come this far without you
For everything you've done, you know I'm bound, I'm bound to
thank you for it....

Oh, I want to thank you for so many gifts you gave with love and tenderness,
I wanna thank you
I want to thank you for your generosity, the love and the honesty that you gave me
I want to thank you, show my gratitude, my love and my respect for you,
I wanna thank you

Oh I want to thank you, thank you, thank you,
thank you, thank you, thank you...

Ummm...It's a Snake...

I can only guess that, since this is really the origin of children being creaed, there is an argument that this is somehow appropriate:



But really, who the fuck lets their kids climb out of the head of a giant penis?

Home Invasion or Car Robbery

If any of us were given these two options, knowing that one would be inevitable, the answer is unbelievably simple. Of course, I would prefer that someone damage my property rather than terrorize me personally.

But when the lesser option happens--when you walk out to your car in the morning to find your car glass bashed to fuck by a sledgehammer--you really look for an optimistic viewpoint to make the pain, hassle, and financial ramifications seem not so bad.

All day today, I kept thinking of the face-plate that I never take off of my car stereo. I know I should, but I don't. So when I saw all of the broken glass, that was the first thing I checked out. And, fuck me, the stereo was still there. As was every other piece of my car. No one had tried to jimmy the lock on my glove compartment, no one had broken the steering column of my car to try to steal it...nothing.

I was at peace with this for, um, maybe two minutes. Then I got even more angry. Because if parts were taken off the car, I could understand. I would inevitably default to a much more empathetic humanist mode where I thought, "Yeah, the economy sucks. This guy had kids to feed. My car stereo represents a whole lot more to him than it ever would to me."

But you know what? This was just simple douchbaggery. Last night-slash-this morning there were a dozen cars in my neighborhood that were similarly vandalized. Soft-top convertibles were slashed beyond recognition. Windows and doors slammed to shit.

So this was just *fun* to someone.


Thanks for the Wednesday, asshole. I really didn't fucking need this....

Creepy

Last night as I lay in bed, somewhere between sleep and reality, I remembered a creepy coincidence.

A year or so ago, I got a call from a friend. He says, in a kind of halting and disturbed, though not scary, voice, "I...just...got...the...STRANGEST...voice mail." I jumped in, as I was cooking dinner, and said with a funny voice, "Was it Samuel L. Jackson telling you there were snakes on a muthafuckin plane?" giggling gleefully as I delighted in my own funny.

"YES."

Because I was still laughing at my own cleverness, it took me a second. "Wait. What. WHAT? WHAT THE FUCK?!"

And so it turned out that, as a part of the marketing genius for said shitty movie, you could spam a friend with the voicemail recording of Samuel El Jackson bitching about snakes and planes. I swear I didn't know about this, much less send the spam. But I've always understood, even today, that my defense is practically nonexistent. Really...I just thought it was the most bizarre thing I could spout off in the moment. Who the fuck knew it would be true?


A few months later, I was talking to said friend again. I started the conversation with, "You'll never guess who I ran into tonight." I expected him to answer with the name of a long-lost classmate or some such.

Instead he says, "Luke Perry."

I froze, expecting to blurt out "No! Guess again!" and put him through his mentalist paces. But I was completely fucking gobsmacked because I'll be damned if the answer really wasn't Luke fucking Perry!


I talked to him tonight and told him about falling asleep and randomly thinking about how creepy this was. He was nonplussed. In part, I think, because he might still think that I sent the random voicemail marketing to him. He claims that the Luke Perry answer was, in his mind, searching for the lowest-level celebrity he could think of.

I argued, "But I said 'You'll never guess who I ran into!'" His response was that the phrase alone implied celebrity status, and since I wasn't excited, it was lowball. I think he's full of it, thinking that these are truly creepy conversations.

"It was dismissed as a coincidence," he said, sounding bored with my rant.

Loss

When it happens, it's often unexpected but always permanent. Loss changes us. Sometimes it occurs in small, maddening forms. I had forgotten my password to this blog, for instance. It was seemingly irretrievable, floating in the ether, and so was a form of communication that had become important to me. It frustrated me to no end. And the more I fought to try to remember the magical passkey that would get me back here, the further it buried itself in the recesses of my mind.

For months as I tried to fall asleep, tossing and turning in the bed, I thought about topics and ideas I'd like to discuss here, if only I could retrieve that crucial information from my grey matter. Only when I relaxed enough to almost forget about it did that magic code reveal itself to me.

This past calendar year has offered plenty of loss. Tonight I touched base with loss again, an entity I'm starting to think of as some sort of personified nemesis. But this was no mere password. Instead, I met up with an incredibly dear friend of mine. This is a person who I don't get to see nearly enough, and even when I do, I feel like the time I spend with him is going to be cut short very soon. Because he's dying of cancer. And each time we meet up, I try my best to savour each moment, committing as many seconds to memory as I can, knowing that this could well be the last.

Pancreatic cancer was new to me when he finally revealed his diagnosis. I was one of hardly a handful of people that he's told. I wasn't the first. I might have been the last. He came to me after he told his only family member and to this day I know the only reason he reached out to me is that, in telling her, the reality of death working its way through his body had become all too real.

I researched the disease immediately and learned that, like cervical cancer, this is something that quietly takes over one's body and is, in effect, a death sentence. I don't claim to understand any of its brutal nuances. I only know that pain management is his only available option and my friend takes a great deal of pride in hiding his pain. But when you know him well, you can see the "bad days" in his eyes. When his eyes don't give him away, his killer is often physically manifest when his calves swell to three times the size of his ever-diminishing thighs.

And so when we met up tonight, we hugged long and hard, as is his wont. It's a little too much physical affection for my usual comfort level. But this is his way. And as I do with close friends, I acquiesce to his native tongue.

The first thing I noticed tonight was that I could feel his spine through his shirt as we wrapped our arms around each other and embraced for a full minute or more. I immediately lapsed into a very seldom used maternal mode, bitching that he was too thin and asking if he was eating. He told me that he's been participating in drug studies, lacking both health insurance and any sort of effective treatment options for pancreatic cancer.

A part of me was thrilled that he was involved with any sort of drug study. Because there are no other options. And so the fact that he's considered the walking dead gives him entry into the world of human lab rats. And for a moment, I thought, this is where being the working poor and half-dead will actually help---he might be one of the few people on the forefront of getting some sort of longevity, beyond the usual 12-24 month prognosis.

Perhaps even more so because he's gay, I have a sense of deja vu, thinking of days before "the cocktail" became an increasingly effective method of keeping older friends alive. Not cured. Not entirely healthy. But alive.

But these studies are often a panacea at best, and at worst, contribute more and/or worse side effects than the disease itself. My friend told me that his last round of experimental drugs resulted in constant vomiting. And for a person who has a really great day when he has the appetite and/or constitution to ingest 800-1,000 calories in 24 hours, this is not at all a side effect that he can afford.

I listened, silently, attentively, in shock and admiration at his courage to fight for his life at such an expense. Also in quiet awe, my brain processing this new information after nearly a year of continuously worrying about his health. While I've had glimpses into how hard this must be for him, I've also known there was so much that he was keeping from me. And this was a piece of that secret life.

As he told me about the next round of drug studies in which he would participate, his body started to heave and convulse as he murmured quiet expletives. It was like watching a woman in labor breathing through a contraction. He had no control of it, was consumed by pain, and yet all too aware of his public display. I've never seen him like this. I was frozen, trying to think of what I could do to alleviate his pain, as I realized that so many of his private moments are spent like this.

I sat by, completely ineffective, as my friend collected himself. Still obviously in pain, he began to profusely apologize to me for having made a scene. I sputtered, trying to say something, anything, that made sense, as he continued to apologize and berate himself for losing control and making me feel uncomfortable.

This--what to call it?--graciousness is characteristic of my friend. Most of us, myself included, would not default to apology in the grips of such inordinate catastrophe. Especially one that alters every aspect of daily life. Yet he was mortified by this display of his own vulnerability, and truly concerned that he had scared me.

Nothing I said would placate him. He continued to babble apologies. Finally, I put a hand on his now very small thigh. I stared into his eyes and told him something that only a handful of my friends know, because it's not something I talk about anymore.

My father died when I was young. He was a tall, handsome, adventurous and highly intelligent guy. One day, he felt...not sick, but "puny," as he called it. The feeling continued for several weeks. Finally, my mother forced him to go to the doctor. The doctor ordered tests. And the hospital staff that read the results called my family, sans only me and my pops, into a room to let them know that he had terminal cancer. Inoperable and untreatable. But they weren't going to tell him, because they feared it would only hasten his demise.

My father quickly morphed, physically, into a mere shell of himself. The only thing I've ever seen to compare his physical stature are photos of Nazi internment camps. He was skeletal. I remember at one point his knees being his most prominent feature.

My father died almost exactly three months to the day from that fateful meeting my family endured at hospital. It was a Tuesday. I've long since forgotten the date, but I somehow know the day. My mother was several hours late in picking me up from school and my private school administrators all stayed well past their working hours to uncharacteristically swoon around me, knowing that when she did arrive she would tell me that my small world had changed forever.

It's difficult to describe how I reacted. I was intelligent enough to know that this was coming, although no one ever told me in preparation. But I was also young enough that I was still learning what "Tuesday" was. Because I was still discovering my world, without preconceived notions, my father's death was probably much easier on me than it was for the adults in my world.

The following years were a different story. I always answered honestly and comfortably when anyone asked about my father. But my answer that "my father died" caused great and obvious discomfort to whomever had asked me a benign or pointed question. The immediate response, one that I grew to hate, was "Oh, I'm so sorry!"

So I found myself comforting people. Constantly. Strangers. Acquaintances. Fiancees of sixth-generation family members at dinners I didn't want to attend in the first place. And what I learned in those years was a greater loss than even losing my father. It was a loss of normalcy that I didn't know I lacked. I mourned my father much more in those years than I ever did during the adjustment period after his death.

For decades I had to comfort people, some well-intentioned and others who weren't so much so, because they didn't know how to deal with my father's death, despite the fact that they never knew him. Growing up, his death ultimately became most significant to me in this way---that I had to constantly apologize to other people. In these settings, my loss was diminished or negated entirely by people who merely who felt uncomfortable.

Tonight, I told my friend this story, with one hand on his leg and another on the side of his face. And his face softened. He no longer felt the need to apologize. I hope he no longer felt embarrassed. What I do know is that he understood the point of my disclosure.

I finished my story and looked deeply into his eyes, saying slowly and clearly, "I grew up having to make up for things that adults around me didn't understand. Their obvious discomfort, shocked looks and prolonged silences meant that I had to comfort them. And it frankly pissed me off. I won't lie to you and say that I know or understand what's going on. But I will never, never, make you feel like you have to comfort me as you go through this."

As I said this, his cab arrived and slowed to a stop behind him. He climbed into the backseat, his normal grin restored. He reached out for a hug and as I leaned in and embraced him he kissed me on my cheek. The cab drove off and I was once again left with the feeling that this might be the last time I see my friend. But I know we both got something we needed tonight--no apologies.

Hmmmm....

Anyone else think that this looks like a vagina?

2007 Year in Review

I have to admit, I'm a little surprised. (Then again, maybe I shouldn't be, considering the copious quantities of champagne I've consumed tonight....)

I encountered people tonight who actually cried, so thankful were they that this year had come to a close; people who were longing for better days in the new year.

On the other hand, there were others who were so thankful for what the past year had brought them that they showed inordinate amounts of kindness to friends who were suddently stuck in the midst of travel, work, or other obligations---they opened their homes and lives without a second thought and set tableaux that would have brought a tear to Norman Rockwell's eye.

I've been a part of so many of these moments in the past months that I don't quite know where to begin. Of course, it has me thinking about my own 2007 recap. There are many events in the latter part of this year that I've kept mum about, but even still, here's my take on the past year:

It has been an absolutely bizarre year, and that has coloured my take on a lot of things, especially in the past few months. At the same time, I am so thankful for the friendships that have burgeoned and evolved over the past year.

So many new, energetic, and interesting people have come into my life this year....and thank goodness. It's been far too easy in the last few years to just write people off. This year, I remembered how much I really enjoy people--enjoying having them surprise me, enjoying their quirks, having such a good time unearthing who they really are. And these reminders have come from the most unexpected corners of my life.

As I learned to appreciate new people again, the more I appreciated the people who were already in my life. I don't get to really 'touch' the people that I love with any kind of regularity, but I think of them nearly everyday, and I am so thankful for the people I love, and god help them, who love me.

People surprised me this year....

This blog was certainly an element of that. I never could have imagined when, at the beginning of the year on Super Bowl Sunday, I decided to create a blog, that I would meet, chat with, and get to know, such an extraordinary collection of people across the globe.

Yes, I'm still shite at maintaining email contact. And for that I sincerely apologize. But I have so enjoyed our conversations over the past year, and hope that continues.

And while I've taken a decidedly hands-off approach to politics in the past few years, despite some fairly juicy offers to re-enter the arena, I'm cautiously excited that Americans seem to be re-engaged as well.

The most recent example in my mind was when I met with a good friend of the family a few days ago. He's an old-money, old-school, for all intents and purposes, good ol' boy. He told me about sitting in a coffee shop and chatting up the old guy next to him about who they would vote in as President...my friend said that, if he had to vote today, it would be Obama. The other old guy looked at him like he was crazy and said, well, for me it would be Hillary.

As he was relaying this story to me, our family friend was tickled pink, as they say. Here's the quote: "Oh my Gawd, Aspeth! I just couldn't get over how far we'd come in my lifetime!!! Here I was the old southern white man who would punch my ticket for a black President, and the old black man next to me wants to vote in the white woman!!!"

Personally, I've got a different favorite, but I'm not going to discuss that right now, and I'm not opening the floor to political diatribes. I just think it's a really interesting state of what I'm seeing around me.

Art and culture seem to be following suit. There have been some intriguing movies in the past year. Khaled Hosseini's amazing novel The Kite Runner was translated to film. If you haven't read this book, please do. It's a heartbreaking, yet very real look into Afghanistan. Many of us are finally remembering that nation, which was the bridge between 9/11 and Iraq, and this film is evidence of that.

Okay, truth be told, I have the attention span of a gnat. So I rarely sit through movies. I'll read a book for weeks on end, but I can't sit still for two hours to watch something on a screen. So when I do watch a flick, I want something that either moves me to heights I didn't know I had within my soul, or I just want to be fucking entertained.

YouTube is more my style, as I can flit around and find anything that suits me in any given moment. I look for a lot of music....a line gets stuck in my head and YouTube is often the fastest and easiest way to hear a song that's been driving me crazy for days on end, or one that just came to me as I'm sitting in traffic.

So one of my favorite things of 2007 has been this link, which I'm dropping in below. For some reason, this song keeps coming to me as I'm in the shower, and I find myself performing karaoke as I wash my hair. The lines "Broadcast me a joyful noise unto the times, Lord, Count your blessings. Ignore the lower fear, Ugh, this means war. It's been a bad day. Please don't take a picture..." consumes me as I'm scrubbing my head with suds, and I break out into a fairly hearty concert version of the song.

Then I found the YouTube link, and I'm frankly fascinated with the band's accurate re-enactment of shitty Nancy Grace-esque 24-7 news reporting. It's a witty, scary, brow-archingly thoughtful, "Over to you, Ted" take on modern American media. And I like it. And I just have to call it the video of the year.




So what I'm really trying to say here, in my usual verbose manner, is that I hope you enjoyed the past year, are thankful to put it to bed, and optimistic about the events that may unfold in your life in the new year.

The champagne is kicking my ass -- no, more like a mule kicking me in the head -- and I have to go drop into bed now. Happy New Year to you all!

Best wishes,

~Aspeth

"All Who Wander Are Not Lost"

In my younger days, I decided to piss off overseas for an indefinite period of time. I bought a ticket, but as it worked out, it was much cheaper to buy an "around the world" ticket that included multiple stops, rather than the few that I had originally intended. I found this to be a 'happy accident' that even afro-puff Bob Ross would nod his approval toward.

I had planned to put all of my belongings in storage, to return to the life that I had previously established. But this plan seemed more and more....well....stupid. I could pre-pay storage for an extended period, but if I stayed away longer than I anticipated, how would I make a payment from a different hemisphere? I pictured my belongings being auctioned off thanks to a lack of mail service in, say, Mauritius.

At some point, I decided to sell everything I owned. Furniture. Clothes. My car. Everything. As gutted as I felt doing this, I consoled myself with the idea that this created quite the safety net for me should anything unexpected occur as I traveled.

As ballsy as this might have been, there was a bit of a snag in my plans. Namely, telling my family. Somehow, the date of my departure drew to weeks, then days, then hours, without my saying a word. I had already received a rather unexpected amount of criticism from my friends over my plans. And if these supposedly open-minded peers were suddenly so snarky, what could I expect of my family? As the time of my flight grew nearer, it just seemed easier to forego the nonesense and board the flight.

One of my very best girl friends dropped me at the airport. She saw the tears in my eyes, and knowing my disdain for goodbyes, cleverly told me that there was no such thing. She smiled and told me that she would simply see me later. As I choked back a lump in my throat, literally wondering where my adventures would take me and if I would ever see her again, she pressed a present into my hand as I walked into the airport.

As I stood shocked at her ability to be so smooth at such an ungodly hour of the morning, she disappeared into a throng of people. I was truly alone now. The lump in my throat was growing greater and I took solace in the package in my hand. I opened it to find a silver flask (fitting!) inscribed with the words "All who wander are not lost."

I boarded the plane with a confidence that I didn't know I had, thanks to my girl friend. She was able to find a truism that I didn't even know existed, and fitted my situation perfectly. I had tried to tell my friends for months beforehand that I wasn't running away from anything, rather I was running toward the unknown. But this friend got it in ways that even I didn't. This little reminder came in quite handy for the first legs of my trip, when I was jetlagged, confused, and lacking even rudimentary language skills of my first host country.


Christmas Eve rolled around. I had been away for over a month, and had gotten by with popping into i-net cafes to drop my family a quick note here and there. I had met some really cool kids from seven different countries and we had all started traveling together. It was an amazing group, and I'll tell you that, after traveling together, those people know me better than many friends who have known me for decades.

As everyone was walking to the "phone store" (a modified bamboo shack with one telephone line and a stopwatch) to call their families for the holiday, I was markedly stoic. One of the British boys came to ask me why I hadn't called my family yet. I explained that I had never told them I was leaving, how they were going to be so tremendously disappointed in me for leaving my job and my life to just piss off, etc. etc.

He simply looked at me, shook his head and said, "Well, I don't really care about any of that. Where I come from, you call your family on the holidays. You just call them and you say 'hello.' You don't talk about uncomfortable things, you just call and you just say hello." And without another word, he walked out of my room.

I sat stunned and shamed for quite awhile. And then I headed off to the phone shack. I tremendously fucked the math on the time difference, and wound up waking my folks at four in the morning. They of course thought that something was dreadfully wrong, which worked in my favor. As they shook off the sleep and panic, they realized that my voice sounded fine...other than the poor connection.

My mother finally asked how I was doing in (X) city I was supposed to have been living in, how was the weather, and other pleasantries. I took a deep breath and said, "Well, I'm sure everything is fine there. But the truth is, I'm in India."

There was a palpable pause on the other end of the line, during which I envisioned that I had killed my mother with this news. Convinced that I had given her a heart attack or brain aneurysm, I was shocked when she finally let out a deep, heartfelt cackle.

"Well, of COURSE you are!" she said.

You see, to my mother, it was clearly evident from the time that I could walk and talk that I would be the child who would randomly ring her from the other side of the world on Christmas Eve. And, luckily, she got a vicarious thrill from it.


So too, I offer this story as an explanation, of sorts, for my blogcation. I've been having adventures, many of which I simply haven't been able to share here. Perhaps I've built it all up in my head too much. Perhaps the consequences of writing here really would be far different than the relief I felt at telling my mother I wouldn't be coming to Christmas dinner because I was in India.

But I'm older now and know that I'm not bulletproof. I know there are things that just can't be undone on the internets--an arena that has not anticipated since I could walk and talk that I would perform feats of magnificent stupididy alongside humbling escapades of diving head-first into shallow pools. I also know that life, love, and loss are not meant to be offered up casually, even if one needs to talk about such things.

And so, on any given day, I've chosen silence. My life and its weird adventures will always take priority over my web commentary, even though that has given me great pleasure. I'll continue to check in here, and will try to drop more posts.

In the meantime, I'm on a quest for balance. As I've learned over the years, this is a position in which many travelers often find themselves as they journey forward into the great unknown.

Happy travels,

~Aspeth

Re-Entry

Jaysus...do I even remember how to blog at this point?

Thanks to all who have stopped by recently to check in and leave notes. I have an unholy amount of email to sift through in this Inbox, so if you dropped a note and I haven't responded, know that I'm getting to it.

I also still owe you the remaining parts of Dustin Haywood's take on Casey Serin, so will get that queued up as well...

I've been out of reach of the blogosphere, inking up my passport with some emergency business travel. I've now done three round-trips from CA to London in the past, what, ten? fourteen? days---I've got no fucking concept of how long I've been away, as the jet lag and life at 30,000 feet is absolute bullshit. My brain is pudding, everyone, so be kind.

A special thanks to a friend that I kept up all night after my first re-entry, even though that person had to take a stupidly long flight that day as well. I can't even tell you right now how absolutely thankful I am for that conversation.

This morning finds me racked with insomnia, yet again, but still not home. Am spending the day checking in with one of our other offices, though I'll be damned if I feel like boarding a flight anytime soon. I really might just rent a car, point it toward Mexico, and buy a surfboard somewhere along the way, never to be heard from again.

Of course, this is the bitterness of jet lag and sleep deprivation talking. Just wrapped what eventually came to be a very nice merger, and once all of this wears off, I might actually celebrate for five minutes before diving head-first into the next thing.

In that spirit, I thought I'd share the most bizarre thing I'd come across in recent weeks. While sitting in an airport surfing around for mindless chum, I came across this. It's best watched with volume on, though you don't need to hear the accompanying music to see that it's truly bizarre.



At first glance, I thought these were some crazed southern California kids doing a circus sideshow version of a talent show. It appealed to me because I did a heap of competitive gymnastics growing up, with the family sitting down at one point to discuss whether I would leave home at the ripe old age of eight to study under one of the world's elite coaches. Obviously, the answer was a resounding no.

But because of this background, I love the human form. I'm constantly awed and inspired by the graceful lines that the body is capable of achieving. Needless to say, I love the ballet--or pretty much dance in any form--and have developed an intense fondness for the works of Cirque du Soliel.

It's never left me. I have a close friend who is a pro surfer with incredible upper body strength. When we're on the beach together, I run up to him yelling, "Let's play Cirque du Soliel!!!" I force him into strange positions, requesting that he then catapult me into the sky so that I may flip and fly, if for a few lovely seconds. He is always afraid that he will break me and, while I'm normally empathetic, I refuse to let his anxiety stand in the way of my fun.

So you can see why I find these girls such crazy fun to watch. Although I'll be the first to say that the thing where the girl's head is on the ground and she squirrels her feet around her body like a bug pretty much grosses me out. Like totally.

After a minute of so-called research, it turns out that these young women are not merely some kind of sideshow wunderkinds of southern California. They are, in fact, one of the latest additions to Cirque's latest North American touring show that will take place through 2008. So that at least explains something.


Other than this brief glimpse into my web surfing history, you guys are going to have to clue me in to any happenings on the interwebs. I've been living an incredibly stressful yet blissfully ignorant existence for quite a bit now, and I think I might be able to take in some of the news between naps :)

Forums O' Fun

CaseyHaterz.com is a cool new community started by long-time Casey Serin 'hater' The Dude.

The site is mere days old, having launched on the auspicious date of 7/7/07. Yet in three days, the CaseyHaterz forum already boasts over six hundred registered members. The Dude has confessed that he's been a bit astounded by the turnout. Here's what he has to say about the community:

Anyone who's followed the Casey Saga knows, Casey himself labeled anyone who doesn't support his activities a Hater and nothing could be further from the truth. Haterz don't hate Casey, they disapprove of his actions towards his creditors and his family. He meant the term as an insult, but we elevated it to a badge of honor; standing up for what is right.

Casey tries to blame everyone else for his problems, but the fact remains, he and he alone is responsible for any issues he's facing.

Supporterz and Haterz alike are welcome here. We value all points of view and differing opinions. To join the conversation, you must first register an account. Follow the instructions, return, login, and join the conversation.

As The Dude implements new software changes, CaseyHaterz may have been inaccessible for a couple of hours today. If you, like me, are already a registered user and having trouble getting back into the system since the changeover, try the following:

1. Click here to be taken to the CaseyHaterz main page.

2. In the upper right-hand corner, look for the Log In link.

3. For me, my user name and password didn't work. If you're having the same problem, click "Have you forgotten your login information?"

4. This will prompt you for your user name and email address.

5. Within seconds, you should receive an email from CaseyHaterz with the subject line "Request for Password." If you do not see a response immediately, check your spam and bulk folders.

6. Use the temporary password with your already-existing user name to log in.

7. You will most likely have to upload your avatar again.

Good luck and happy snarking!

More From Dustin Haywood

I said yesterday that Dustin Haywood, previously referred to as “Rich Dad’s Son” at “I Am Facing Foreclosure,” is perhaps the antithesis of Casey Serin. While the two are close friends, Dustin has followed a far different path than Casey Serin.

Of course, I didn't know that at first. And in one of our early emails, my fraud meter went off when Dustin Haywood mentioned that he had sold a significant quantity of homes over the past several years. Considering that he would have to be about the same age as Casey Serin (24, give or take) this is a remarkable accomplishment no matter who you are. Unfortunately, in the context of the Casey Serin story, it is also suspect. I had to ask:

Aspeth: When you say that you’ve sold 45 homes, I’m curious as to what exactly that means. Were they homes you sold for someone else? Flippers? FSBO’s? Doesn’t the California Department of Real Estate require that someone who sells over (x?) number of homes in a year be licensed? Are you licensed?

Dustin Haywood: My father is licensed, I am not. I might get a license in the future, but at this point my activities don't require a license. I spend most of my time generating leads, overseeing the work of our independent contractors, handle tech support around the office, monitor escrows, and a variety of other responsibilities that go into running a business of this nature.


Frankly, since I’d already looked for a DRE license for Dustin, I was happy to get a straight answer from him. (Sorry, Dustin. I’ll admit that I wasn’t yet giving you a lot of credit at that point.) In my defense, who knew that it was possible to get a direct and honest answer in Caseyworld?

Going back to Dustin Haywood’s first appearance at “I Am Facing Foreclosure,” he certainly came across as a huge cheerleader. Casey announced that he was going to work at the “Local Rich Dad” office and the crowd went wild. Everyone smelled another get-rich-quick scam or guru action. Dustin came on to explain some things further:

39. Dustin A.K.A. Rich Dad's son
October 22nd, 2006 at 8:50 pm

Hey, I’m the dorky looking guy in the picture in front of the car. Although I have been following this blog since it started to get really interesting about a month or two ago, this is my first comment as I really haven’t had anything to say that hadn’t already been said over and over again by all of the armchair life coaches out there. Now that Casey has moved into our office I think it is appropriate to add some context to Casey’s story and also answer some of the skeptics out there.

Our Motivation

Yes, part of the reason why we are helping Casey help himself out of his mess is because we think other people might appreciate the opportunity to get a “hands on” Real Estate investing education from us at some point. As a reader of Casey’s blog you’ll actually be able to see how Casey’s thinking and real estate knowledge evolves over time and hopefully reaches the level of sophistication required to be successful in this business. We’re not going to muck up Casey’s blog with our BS, even if we wanted to Casey has too much integrity to allow us to do such a thing.

Another major motivation behind our alliance with Casey was his IT skill set that we are starting to desperately need to keep up with the times. Casey has agreed to help bring us up to date in this department over time.

Rich Dad or Cheap Dad?

Whatever Casey or you the reader wants to call him, it’s fine by us. My father is happy to help Casey with or without the attention from this blog. I’m sure his idenity will be revealed in time but he’s not quite willing to out himself quite yet.

The Cheap Dad comment isn’t accurate at all; he’s probably the most generous man I know. We didn’t give Casey a job for a reason: We have exactly ZERO employees and we’d like to keep it that way for now. Everyone is on commission or is contracted out as needed. If I can’t pick up a check every two weeks from my dad, Casey can’t either.

I’ll stop here for now. I’d like everyone who feels like they need to give Casey a hard time to lighten up a little about it, maybe even have a sense of humor about, we certainly do. He’s made some serious blunders this year and has gotten himself in more trouble then most of us will ever face, what kind of person would think it is appropriate to kick a man when he’s down?

Anyway, this blog will continue to be Casey’s creation, not mine. If I have anything to say I’m happy to do it here like everyone else. I think you’ll enjoy the content a whole lot more now that we’re in the picture. I honestly hope everything works out for the best, try to remember: The future has yet to be written, anything could happen at this point and your guess is as good as mine, but if you want my opinion I think this is shaping up to be a great come back story already.

Now before everyone freaks out, please remember that this was in October of last year. Casey Serin had yet to demonstrate a lot of his more unlikable qualities. He hadn’t yet been foreclosed upon multiple times, and he certainly hadn’t fled the country, leaving his wife to answer creditors’ phone calls. I truly believe that Dustin Haywood and his father were (and still are) sincere in wanting to help Casey Serin get back on track.

Aspeth: You and Casey Serin are approximately the same age, yet you have sold 45 homes while he has lost six houses to foreclosure. How did you and Casey approach the same industry with such drastically different results? I ask because that creates such a glaring contrast between the two of you, and puts you in a unique position to talk about the path that you observed him traveling.

Dustin Haywood: Well, when I met Casey in 9th grade, my father was essentially "set for life" financially. He knew the story of my father's success and I'm sure admired the freedom he had. Casey was a pretty sharp guy in high school, he got good grades, graduated a semester early, and as far as I can recall, kept his nose clean. He was able to teach himself a variety of computer and internet skill sets during this time and found decent paying IT work easily right out of high school. At one point, he even helped me get one of my first jobs at a Geek Squad type company that never made it off the ground.

As far as how the two of us approached the industry. I'll start with myself because I got into the business quite a few years before he did. Growing up I never intended to work for my father, I didn't even think it was even an option. In fact, when I graduated high school and started college, he was not actively investing in real estate.

During the year or two I attended college he attempted to start up some of his real estate investing techniques, but those efforts never led anywhere, as he tells it, he just didn't have the same drive to put in all the effort required to get the operation off the ground. Later that year, I was getting tired of college and was anxious to get my career started.

Without knowing if we would have any success, I offered to help my father with all of the tedious aspects of real estate investing in exchange for a percentage of any profit we made, and to my surprise he took me up on my offer. It took nearly 6 months to find our first "deal", meaning your typical fix n flip. Most of our buying and selling activity was between the summer of 2002 and early 2006. We saw the crash coming and got out when we could. We're currently in "buy and hold" mode and probably will be for quite some time. We see some great buying opportunities on the horizon.

In contrast, Casey decided to go it alone. He didn't have a mentor to teach him so he went to a lot of seminars and bought a lot of crap from gurus I explicitly warned him against. He even called me one time while he was attending a seminar to see if he could borrow $50,000 from me for some advanced seminar they were offering for some limited time of course. For the record, I told him no.

The biggest problem he had was that he was literally buying all of his "deals" at the top of the market. His second biggest problem, regardless of what the market was doing, was that he was overpaying, they were at best marginal "deals". He of course went on to make all of the other typical mistakes new investors tend to make, i.e. buying out of state, overpaying contractors, buying too many at once, etc...


Dustin mentioned in an early email to me that “Whatever you have said about Casey, I've said far worse to Casey's face.” I remembered a comment that Dustin left Casey at IAFF. I considered his remarks in November of 2006, and thought it important to include:

101. Rich Dad's Son
November 27th, 2006 at 3:49 pm

Come on Casey; If you’re turning to crap like “The Secret” for answers, you are barking up the wrong tree… again. There is no secret, no magic bullet, and no magic genie that will lead you to happiness and success.

You should be beyond the the Tony Robbins positive thinking stuff by now. (Besides, I think all that positive thinking might have hurt you more than it helped, but that’s just my take) Time to hunker down and do some real personal development. Check out “The Teaching Company” (teach12.com) - Maybe start with some of their economics lectures and go from there. (Science, Philosophy, History etc…)

Good luck, keep fighting, it’s not over yet!

Coming from anyone else, that would quickly be dubbed Haterz talk. So I wanted to ask Dustin what he thought of the term.

Aspeth: On a lighter note.... Casey has called his critics "haterz." The haterz have then called Casey's circle "supporterz" and "cheerleaderz." Do you think either of these labels apply to you?

Dustin Haywood: Funny, you mentioned this. I was probably the original "hater" in the sense that I was highly critical of the path he was taking during the early days of his real estate career. One night he called me asking for $50,000 dollars to purchase some "advanced" real estate seminar. You can imagine my reaction!

As for the actual term "hater" I may have been the one to use that phrase first during a early conversation regarding the comments section. I can't be sure, and it doesn't even really matter, but I've enjoyed using common slang around Casey because he originally spoke English as a second language and is quick to use and misuse his newly expanded vocabulary.

Am I still a Hater today? Probably so, but I still can't help but root for the underdog.


There’s more to this story, but this is already a long post, and there are still some holes that need to be plugged before I can continue. I appreciate your patience while I wait for Dustin’s response, and just want to remind everyone that he’s a successful entrepreneur who’s working his tail off. He hasn't gone all "pro blogger" on us, so he's not necessarily able to answer questions straight away.

Meet "Rich Dad's Son"

Casey Serin's distorted half-truths and outright lies have many people coming forward to tell their side of the Casey Serin / "I Am Facing Foreclosure" events. Dustin Haywood, often referred to as "Rich Dad's Son" at IAFF, is one of those people.

Early readers of "I Am Facing Foreclosure" will recall that "Rich Dad" and "Rich Dad's Son" came into the picture in late October of 2006. The premise was that a high school friend's father was a successful real estate investor and had offered Casey Serin the opportunity to work alongside successful entrepreneurs and hopefully learn the fundamentals of business from them.

Casey Serin was to provide some technical support to the business and in return was given free office space. Casey took to calling the would-be mentor his "Rich Dad," after the Robert Kiyosaki book. His high school friend became, by extension, "Rich Dad's Son."

Around the beginning of June, I got an email from Dustin Haywood.

Aspeth,

Hi, I'm the character known on Serin's blog as Rich Dad's son.

I like your take on the whole deal and I was wondering if your readers were interested in hearing from me?

Maybe I could help flush the story out for historical posterity as I have had a small yet influential role in all of this.

I haven't had the time to keep up with his blog as much as you and most of the regular readers/posters have, so there will be many things I can not comment on. I also have only seen or spoken to Casey a handful of times since he moved out of my office early this year. I can speak to how Casey and I met and became friends, what Casey was like in school, what renting a room out to Casey was like, how and why we grew apart, exactly how and why I helped him.

Don't expect a lot of venom from me, I still consider Casey a friend and I hope things work out for him.

Just so you know, you are the first and only blogger I have attempted to contact about this. If there is any interest, please let me know.

Me being me, I was naturally cynical and decided to ask a few questions. After all, I've never sugar-coated my belief that Casey Serin is a criminal and should be incarcerated for his crimes. As a friend of the fraudster's, particularly one whose father had played a guru role to Casey (according to Casey Serin, that is) why would he want to make nice with me?

Here's how the conversation with Dustin Haywood started out:

Aspeth: Thanks for the note. To answer your question, yes, I'm sure people would like to hear from you. My question for you is, why do you want to fill in your side of it? Why now?

Dustin Haywood: I noticed just the other day that my identity, along with my fathers had been revealed on Caseypedia and I'm sure elsewhere now as well. Now that we are "out of the closet" sort of speak, I'd like the opportunity to tell our side of the story now that our name is attached to it. I also understand a great deal of people find entertainment value in Casey's saga (I know I have), and I would like to reciprocate some of the enjoyment I've received from the community. I'm also a real estate insider, having bought and sold over 45 homes in the Sacramento area since I got started in this business 6 years ago, not to mention having the opportunity to closely observe my father grow his business during the last bear real estate market of the '90s. In that regard, I might be able to answer real estate related questions as well.

Aspeth: I'm glad you like my blog, but I'm sure that you've read some of my more unkind posts about Casey. So, while I would never expect you to adopt a similar tone, I'm curious why you would want to go through me.

Dustin Haywood: Whatever you have said about Casey, I've said far worse to Casey's face. Casey knows how I feel about his actions, but I see this period of his life as a dark time that many people face at some point in their life but eventually passes. The only difference is that Casey is allowing people to watch and participate on a grand level. I'm sure if he ends up going to prison, living in exile, or somehow pulling through, he'll be a better person because of it. The pressure he's been under the last 6-12 months is an unimaginable burden that has led him to make a lot of bad decisions and hurt of a lot of people around him. I know Casey, he's a well meaning person and a good friend, if anything he's a dupe and a patsy, not a criminal mastermind. Hard to hate someone you pity.

I wanted to go through you because of your intellectual appeal. I share many of your interests and appreciate your sense of humor. As far as your tone, I wouldn't be writing you if I thought it was over the top, you have every right for moral condemnation, as do all the so called "Haterz", but you go a step farther and try to determine what makes Casey tick. That's why I've come to you! I think once people understand what drives Casey, they will be better able to understand his behavior, and perhaps in a way their own. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I can think of no better blog then yours to help further that discussion in a meaningful way.

Aspeth: If you've followed the goings-on with other former associates that have come out to tell their version of events, the response from the so-called "haterz" has been overwhelmingly positive.

Dustin Haywood: I have pretty thick skin, but the haterz really don't have a legitimate reason to hate me. I did what any decent person would do by extending some help to a friend in need. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't being completely altruistic as I was also betting my time and money that Casey would bring value to our business sometime down the road. Casey didn't rise to the challenge to put forth the effort necessary to make money for our business, thus he received nothing besides a free office for a couple months, as well as advice and direction, similar to the kind the "haterz" have been espousing and Casey has been rejecting.

Aspeth: There are probably details and minutiae that people will want to know more about. You might not be comfortable with some of those questions, particularly if they relate back to your father’s business.

Dustin Haywood: I'll be happy to answer intelligent well meaning questions about myself and my part in this story. My father is the most ethical, well meaning, squeaky clean person I've ever met, so he has little if anything to hide. If there’s any question about his privacy, I’ll run it past him first.

And since my name is now public, we can use my name. I always thought the Rich Dad moniker was kind of cheesy anyway.


I’ve been corresponding with Dustin for the better part of the past month. My impression of him is that he’s intelligent, well-spoken, and incredibly level-headed. He has responded to every question I’ve asked him in a deliberate and thoughtful manner, sometimes incorporating topics that I wouldn’t necessarily have considered germane.

But in Dustin’s telling, we see a more rounded view of Casey Serin. I don’t know that anyone’s opinion will change from reading Dustin’s take, but it’s a chance to see Casey through the eyes of a close friend—one who obviously still cares a great deal about him, and wants him to succeed.

I do think the ‘haterz’ will have a newfound appreciation for the nebulous character known as “Rich Dad’s Son.” He’s not a character, not a scammer, not part of some wannabe guru family. He is, in my opinion, a hard working, bright person who provides a sharp contrast to the ideals and implementation of Casey Serin.

An Inside Joke...

So, when you listened to Casey Serin's most recent Friday Night Fraudcast?

Did you feel like you were going crazy?

You know?....Particularly when the woman with the question voice?

Just wouldn't stop talking?

You know the one?

Every sentence that came out of her mouth went up at the end?

So instead of making statements, she was asking questions?

And then she tried to talk Casey out of committing suicide?

Because she's had a lot of tragedy in her life?

And, you know, Casey Serin has never alluded to suicide?

But that didn't stop her?

And so, maybe you, like me, felt like YOU wanted to commit suicide?

Were thinking about the practicalities of balancing a shotgun in your mouth and pulling the trigger with your big toe?

Because this fucking person wouldn't shut the hell up?

And while you understood that she was delivering an anti-suicide speech, she was actually succeeding in advocating FOR suicide?

Because the longer she talked?

The more you were convinced you didn't want to live?

And you never knew it was possible to have a more annoying voice than Casey Serin?

But you found someone who did?

And you hope she never procreates?

And so on?

And so on?

And so on?

Oh, and did I mention?

I just say that because....?

Well, I once had a friend of a friend's hairdresser?

And her great-aunt once....?

And even though you've been lulled into some sort of hypnotic stupor?

You still want to blow your own head off in order to make her voice stop?


It's moments like this that makes me question why the Catholics can't understand that THIS is purgatory.....

On a completely different topic, someone who's been referred to as one of Casey Serin's supporterz is coming out of the woodwork.

More soon...

Casey Serin, Sociopath

This is my response to the question "What's Wrong With This Picture?" Casey Serin's cycle of deflection and manipulation has continually reminded me of something I've seen before. And after looking into it a bit further, I'm convinced that Casey Serin is a sociopath.

Sociopaths are the individuals with Antisocial Personality Disorder. In her book, The Sociopath Next Door, author Martha Stout points out that "We are accustomed to think of sociopaths as violent criminals, but...the chief symptom is that that person possesses no conscience. He or she has no ability whatsoever to feel shame, guilt, or remorse....they can do literally anything at all and feel absolutely no guilt."

The author includes a checklist of sorts to identify a sociopath in your midst. "The 6-7 tell-tale signs of the typical sociopath--the irresponsibility, a lack of social-conscience, the inability to accept blame ("Because I didn't know what to do at the time..."), a delusional and overinflated opinion of oneself, ("After me, no one will want you...") attitude, the need to dominate, inability to compromise, the continuous need of affirmation from others, the habitual lying and covering up, and, of course, the complete and utter lack of remorse."

Anyone who's read Casey Serin's "I Am Facing Foreclosure" story will recognize many of these traits. So what are the exact characteristics of a sociopath? A basic overview of Antisocial Personality Disorder shows that:

"The symptoms of antisocial personality disorder include a longstanding pattern of disregard for the rights of others. There is a failure to conform to society's norms and expectations that often results in numerous arrests or legal involvement as well as a history of deceitfulness where the individual attempts to con people or use trickery for personal profit. Impulsiveness if often present, including angry outbursts, failure to consider consequences of behaviors, irritability, and/or physical assaults.

Some argue that a major component of this disorder is the reduced ability to feel empathy for other people. This inability to see the hurts, concerns, and other feelings of people often results in a disregard for these aspects of human interaction. Finally, irresponsible behavior often accompanies this disorder as well as a lack of remorse for wrongdoings.

It is important to note that, in order for a conclusive diagnosis of APD, some or all of these traits must be apparent in adolescence. And from Casey Serin's first online Ponzi scheme at the age of 14, we see that the handwriting has been on the wall for over a decade.

This profile of a sociopath offers a clear picture of the sociopath in his daily life:

-Glibness and Superficial Charm.

-Manipulative and Conning.

-They never recognize the rights of others and see their self-serving behaviors as permissible. They appear to be charming, yet are covertly hostile and domineering, seeing their victim as merely an instrument to be used. They may dominate and humiliate their victims.

-Grandiose Sense of Self. Feels entitled to certain things as "their right."

-Pathological Lying. Has no problem lying coolly and easily and it is almost impossible for them to be truthful on a consistent basis. Can create, and get caught up in, a complex belief about their own powers and abilities. Extremely convincing and even able to pass lie detector tests.

-Lack of Remorse, Shame or Guilt.

-A deep seated rage, which is split off and repressed, is at their core. Does not see others around them as people, but only as targets and opportunities. Instead of friends, they have victims and accomplices who end up as victims. The end always justifies the means and they let nothing stand in their way.

-Shallow Emotions. When they show what seems to be warmth, joy, love and compassion it is more feigned than experienced and serves an ulterior motive. Outraged by insignificant matters, yet remaining unmoved and cold by what would upset a normal person. Since they are not genuine, neither are their promises.

-Incapacity for Love.

-Need for Stimulation. Living on the edge. Verbal outbursts and physical punishments are normal. Promiscuity and gambling are common.

-Unable to empathize with the pain of their victims, having only contempt for others' feelings of distress and readily taking advantage of them.

-Poor Behavioral Controls/Impulsive Nature.

-Early Behavior Problems/Juvenile Delinquency.

-Usually has a history of behavioral and academic difficulties, yet "gets by" by conning others. Problems in making and keeping friends; aberrant behaviors such as cruelty to people or animals, stealing, etc.

-Irresponsibility/Unreliability. Not concerned about wrecking others' lives and dreams. Oblivious or indifferent to the devastation they cause. Does not accept blame themselves, but blames others, even for acts they obviously committed.

-Lack of Realistic Life Plan/Parasitic Lifestyle. Tends to move around a lot or makes all encompassing promises for the future, poor work ethic but exploits others effectively.

-Criminal or Entrepreneurial Versatility. Changes their image as needed to avoid prosecution. Changes life story readily.

Other Related Qualities:

-Contemptuous of those who seek to understand them

-Does not perceive that anything is wrong with them

-Authoritarian

-Secretive

-Paranoid

-Only rarely in difficulty with the law, but seeks out situations where their tyrannical behavior will be tolerated, condoned, or admired

-Conventional appearance

-Goal of enslavement of their victim(s)

-Exercises despotic control over every aspect of the victim's life

-Has an emotional need to justify their crimes and therefore needs their victim's affirmation (respect, gratitude and love)

-Ultimate goal is the creation of a willing victim

-Incapable of real human attachment to another

-Unable to feel remorse or guilt

-Extreme narcissism and grandiose

-May state readily that their goal is to rule the world

In regard to their work habits, sociopaths typically do not work. When they do, they are frequently absent or may quit suddenly. They will do this without regard to others' wishes or welfare. They often lie, both to gain personal pleasure and for profit.

Sociopaths may default on loans, fail to provide for their families, engage in high risk sexual behavior. Impulsiveness, failure to plan ahead, aggressiveness, irritability, irresponsibility, and a reckless disregard for their own safety and the safety of others are common traits of the antisocial personality.

For the untold dozens of people who have been trying to help Casey Serin, I'm sorry to tell you that it really is all for naught. Because one of the underlying traits of sociopaths is their delusion that they are better than everyone else, they are incredibly difficult to treat.

"Treatment for this disorder is very rarely sought. There is a limited amount of insight into the symptoms, and the negative consequences are often blamed on society. In this sense, treatment options are limited. Some research has found long term insight oriented therapy to be effective, but getting the individual to commit to this treatment is a major obstacle.

Prognosis is not very good because of two contributing factors. First, because the disorder is characterized by a failure to conform to society's norms, people with this disorder are often incarcerated because of criminal behavior. Secondly, a lack of insight into the disorder is very common. People with antisocial personality disorder typically see the world as having the problems, not him or herself, and therefore rarely seek treatment. If progress is made, it is typically over an extended period of time."

Additionally, this inability to form emotional attachments or bonds with others prevent people like Casey Serin from feeling any shame, guilt, or remorse. This is dangerous because these are the typical filters that prevent most human beings from engaging in actions that will damage those around them.

For those who have repeatedly stated that Casey Serin's critics are too harsh, the reality is that he will only stop this cycle of manipulation, confidence scams, theft, deception and other criminal activity when he is forced to stop. And this means prison. Casey Serin's behavior shows that he is unable or unwilling to stop himself from inflicting harm on his friends, family, or community.

Casey Serin needs to be removed from the population in order to be stopped from engaging in his sociopathic tendencies. If left to his own devices, even with the help and support of those around him, he will only continue to repeat these behaviors, convinced that he is entitled to do so.

Anyone else having an "aha" moment?

What's Wrong With This Picture?

Something has been bothering me...

In reading or listening to Casey Serin interact with his audience, the conversation always follows a certain, telling, pattern. First, Casey Serin adopts a jovial approach to offset abject criticism. The most recent Foreclosure Friday Fraudcast offers as good an example as any.

"ENDGAME
Yeah, if you were my brother I would kick your mother-f*cking ass when you came home.

CASEY
Oh. (laughing weakly) Really? You know what? They might be waiting for me, they might be with, you know, who knows what, so... we'll see."

When asked something he doesn't want to answer, he goes into a repetitive cycle of mirror questioning. This line of questioning is meant to both diffuse and distract the other party. In many cases, it is an attempt to get the other person to talk about themselves rather than Casey Serin:

"SIXFIGUREW2LOOSER
Because it's not real entrepreneurship. Entrepreneurship is creating a product or service of genuine value that... is a new invention, is a new, is truly a new way of doing business. Something that nobody thought of before. You know, going out and taking all these loans out, and with the intent of flipping it on the ever-escalating rise of home prices: that is not based in reality, not based in income, it is pure speculation. It just creates damage and harm for people, like me, who -- for Christ's sake Casey, I make over six figures, all right? Full benefits, everything. And I can't even--

CASEY
Yeah. You're set up nice, huh?

SIXFIGUREW2LOOSER
Yeah, I am. And you wanna know why? Because I worked hard--

CASEY
Sweet cashflow coming in. Yeah.

SIXFIGUREW2LOOSER
Uh? Yeah, it's cashflow coming in, because it's money deposited to my account every two weeks.

CASEY
Doing good, yeah."

Casey Serin also utilizes half-right reflexives, a form of questioning where one posits a half-truth in the form of a question in order to get the other party to agree. Take, for example, this back-and-forth.

"HEYCASEY
But you can receive international calls on it [the prepaid Australian cell], so why don't you write CashCall an email and say "hey, what's up, why don't you try to figure out what's going on, obviously I'm making some sweet income on my ads on my blog right now, so why don't you just garnish my wages?" but, I don't know. Plus, by the way--

CASEY
(speaking over HeyCasey) That's a good point, that's a good point, can't keep hiding under the rocks for too long, is that what you're saying?....

HEYCASEY
Exactly, you need to file personal gains tax, which I'm sure you haven't done in a year or so.

CASEY
Yeah man, sweet! Yeah, I mean, the tax, you gotta pay that sweet tax, I mean, the IRS doesn't mess around, right?"

When backed into a corner, Casey Serin tends to drop his voice to create a false intimacy. This empathetic air is an attempt to diffuse the topic at hand, which I'm sure the Serin family has seen time and time again when Casey is painted into a corner. When Annie called in with some very pointed questions, this is how Casey Serin answered:

"ANNIE
Okay. Now, do you feel comfortable-- I can't imagine anybody freeloading like you do, and asking people to pay your way, because that's, you've been asking people, "buy me a ticket", "let me visit your house", you know, "pay for this", "pay for that". At the same time, you're saying that you made two thousand dollars last week, you sent one thousand dollars home just now, so you're making money, why are you freeloading?

CASEY
Okay. And then, that kinda angers you right? Why does that anger you?"

See what happens there? We've seen this a lot over the past ten months, when he flips something back on the other party--this isn't about me, this is about you. Let's talk about you. After all, everyone loves to talk about themselves.

Casey Serin continues his mirror questions, hoping to throw Annie off topic:

"ANNIE
Okay, so it was okay with them. So, you leave on a Wednesday to go to Australia. Two days later it's Friday. Did you have a thousand dollars on the table at home?

CASEY
Uh, what was that? Are you asking about the timing? When it all happened, or...?

ANNIE
No, no, no! I'm being very clear, I'm being extremely clear. You left to go to Australia on a Wednesday, right?

CASEY
Um, I think so. Is that what it was?"

Yet when Annie doesn't let it go, Casey shifts into victim mode:

"ANNIE
But you said last week you made two thousand dollars! So, last week, where's the two thousand dollars from last week?

CASEY
Well yeah, I made two thousand dollars, to transfer it, it takes two business days for it to transfer, I mean, that's all process. So, are we splitting hairs here? (ignores Annie's vehement 'No.') You're trying to put me in a corner like that guy on Triple J did."

When Annie still doesn't take the bait, Casey Serin becomes contemptuous and his demeanor shifts to a sense of "you're such a peon you could never understand such complex doings." See for yourself:

"ANNIE
No, I'm not putting you in a corner, I'm asking you a very simple question, and the question is, last week--

CASEY
(interjects) Of course, very simple to you!

ANNIE
(continues) You made two thousand dollars, and then, where, what day did you put that money in the bank? What day did the money clear? And then, what--

CASEY
(interrupts, exasperated) Annie, what am I gonna do, give an accounting of every minute and every little dollar I spent? I mean, come on. I'm telling you what I did, you don't believe me, you're trying to trip me up somehow, what's the point of this?

ANNIE
I'm not trying to trip you up--

CASEY
(irritated) Honestly, honestly, you don't believe me! You wouldn't continue asking me if you believed me. You simply don't believe me, which is fine, just say it like that.

ANNIE
Well I don't believe you! And how can anybody believe you? (forges on despite Casey's 'There you go!') You're not giving me or anybody else a straight answer. If you want us to believe you, then you've got to say something that's useful.

CASEY
Well look, look, I'm not looking at everything, all the figures in front of me right now, I'm telling you what I did. I don't have the exact hours, and minutes, and dollar figures in front of me right now. So I'm telling you what was done, you don't believe me because you think I'm lying, or this and that... but I mean, clearly, that's fine. You asked your questions--

ANNIE
Well you! You have a history of lying. You have a history of--

CASEY
(chuckling) Alright, alright, fine. Yes, I'm a criminal, right, I'm a scam-- I'm a fraud, I'm a conman, yeah, what else am I?"

Finally, Casey Serin's frustration throws his own game off, and he reveals his sense of entitlement, in a couple of sentences that suggest "I'm smarter and better than you, and good things will come my way because I deserve that to happen."

"ANNIE
I wouldn't say that, but going back to the begathon, you begged people and asked people to pay for your, you know, CashCall, 'cause they were calling--

CASEY
Yeah! And that pisses you off because I'm able to do that! What is wrong with me giving a service for money? Nothing! It's business! It's business."

This is a pattern of manipulation that we've seen time and time again with Casey Serin. First, deflect--make a joke out of a serious topic, then laugh along with it. If that doesn't work, shift into mirror questions in the hope the other party takes the bait and starts talking about him/herself. Combine that with some half-right reflexives to get the other party back on the same page with you.

Round three is to play the victim, asking the other party why they continue to persecute with the repeated line of questioning. And the final straw is to walk away, stating that "you just don't understand" because the topic at hand is obviously too complex for the questioning party to grasp.

And I've always had a vague sense that I'd seen it somewhere before. In reading Caseypedia's excellent transcript of the fraudcast, it finally occurred to me what the missing link most likely is. It's something that I first picked up on when reading through the nightmarish quagmire of Casey Serin's del.icio.us bookmarks, which showed that he was reading up on "How To Read People for Profit."

Since this post is already pretty long, see the next post for the answer...

Was I Wrong About the Timeline?

Casey Serin says he's now back in the U.S., which would mean my guess that he would miss the July 5 deadline was wrong. And I have to say, I really do hope I'm wrong on this one. It would be good news that Casey Serin is back on U.S. soil, within the grasp of law enforcement, and more importantly, within the grasp of his family.

I posted yesterday about Casey Serin's plans to hustle his way around the globe. And I still stand by the information as it was relayed. There were always going to be two problems with posting that info....first and foremost, anything that originates from Casey Serin is suspect. We've seen him lie, cheat, and steal for the past ten months, even when it directly impacts his own family.

The second issue stemmed from the timing. I knew it was coming out on the cusp...but on the cusp of what was the question. The whole scenario was definitely at a crossroads. In my mind, it was worth publishing in the event that he had decided to persue his harebrained scheme of a worldwide media tour.

I'd rather be wrong about a timeline than read the latest about Casey Serin posting from Japan or Indonesia, lining up new pigeons along the way. And for the record, Casey missing the July 5 deadline was my guess, no one else's.

I can't imagine that, if Casey Serin is indeed home, that it will be a very happy homecoming. The family has to be absolutely livid, his wife exponentially more so. On the other hand, Mark Villasenor is probably dancing with glee.

Will Casey Serin actually meet a deadline and appear in Superior Court to answer Mark's charges? Oh, god, I hope so. Casey seems physically incapable of telling the truth, so if Mark Villasenor is able to provide the court with the documentation that proves Casey Serin's multiple frauds and continued criminal enterprises, it will be an Independence Day of a whole new shade.

I've got to be in the office early today, as a whole slew of meetings and conference calls await. It's my own fault that I let my looser W-2 job get in the way of important blogging. But Rob Dawg says he's got a bombshell to drop today, so the week should start off with a bang.

Casey Serin's UnderLYING Agenda

Is Casey Serin really headed back to the United States? If so, he's been planning a rather circuitous route home.

A few interested parties started forwarding me some information about Casey Serin's Australia trip, several weeks ago. Each one asked that I hold off posting anything about these plans, in the hope of talking some sense into the wayward fraudster. Now that Casey Serin is claiming to be headed directly back home, one of these parties has given the green light to fill in some blanks.

True to form of mining his Inbox for gold nuggets, Casey Serin has been searching for offers of housing throughout the world. He had previously posted on his website, "I Am Facing Foreclosure" that he was open to accepting housing offers from his readers, if anyone would allow him to stay at their homes.

Some newbies bit, thinking that Casey Serin was just a misguided and somewhat lost kid who was probably in need of a hot meal and some words of wisdom. Other offers came from folks who had been following Casey Serin's story for a while, who thought it might be a laugh to meet the "World's Most Hated Blogger" in person.

There are still others, those who have been helping Casey Serin with his website and various other enterprises while he's touring Australia. Casey has managed to keep in contact with them more frequently and consistently than his own wife and family. And even they think that's pretty seedy.

(Note to Casey Serin: You think Mark Villasenor has it out for you? You don't even know the half of it. You're trusting people who shouldn't be trusted further than they can be kicked. The haterz called it from the beginning. But once again, great judgement on your part!)

Showing his usual lack of discretion, Casey Serin started working his contacts to see what he could get. While he's telling the world that he's headed back to California, Casey Serin is actually trying to couch-surf his way around the world.

He felt pretty solid after getting some sweet media attention upon arrival in Australia. He hopes to travel the world, duplicating this media exposure in every country he visits. According to Casey, this will earn him new advertisers in each place he travels, as well as attract some new nefarious business contacts, which we all know by now means collecting some new marks along the way.

While Casey Serin's own wife, Galina Serin, cannot reach him via phone during his travels, those whom he considers to be in his inner circle have had fairly free and unfettered access to the amateur con artist and admitted mortgage felon.

Note to Galina Serin: While your husband is not so inclined to answer his Aussie cell since the haterz leaked the number (yes, it is 042 441 5051, but he's looking for another one now) you can reach him on Skype with the username "caseyserin." Redirect some of those CashCall calls there, and let your husband have a taste of what you've been dealing with in his absence.

There are plenty of, frankly, fools out there who are willing to let Casey Serin come into their lives and homes. So while Mama Serin may be offering a return flight home, Casey Serin has been telling others that he will divert those funds to a different destination entirely.

At this point, don't expect him home for Mark Villasenor's July 5 deadline, or any others. He's convinced that there are untold thousands of dollars (big thinker, he) to be mined from what he considers to be a media tour of the world.


(A sidenote: Until I'd caught up on a few of Rob's posts at EN this morning, I didn't realize that the Serin family didn't have a way to contact Sercasey. I knew there was a lack of contact on both sides, but assumed it was mutual. Had I known, I would have forwarded the phone number and Skype contact to the family via Duane LeGate or Rob Dawg.)

Jackass of the Week Award - The City of Hot Springs, Arkansas

Bumbling Barney Fife wasn't allowed to put bullets in his gun when he patrolled the streets of Mayberry. It was a given that he was a hazard to public safety. This was a funny repeated theme in the tv series, with the Don Knotts character running around doing crazy slapstick.

But in real life, many police officers exhibit that they do not have the judgement to carry an loaded weapon in public. Now don't get me wrong. This is not a cop-bashing post. But it is a post to question where we draw the line. What should be done when an officer exhibits behavior that indicates he or she does not have the necessary judgement to wear a badge?

Incidents of excessive force occur everyday in the United States. And every once in a while, those incidents are captured on film for the world to see and judge. Just such a thing happened on June 21, the day now known as "Go Skateboarding Day." This day was created by skateboard advocates, and has been formally instituted by the U.S. Congress.

But in Hot Springs, Arkansas the day didn't go so well. A group of skaters was stopped by a local police officer, who put one of the young men to the ground and held him there by his throat. This image was captured on one of the skaters' cell phones, and two other kids quickly turned on their video cameras.

For those who haven't noticed, the video camera has been a ubiquitous tool in a skater's life since the devices were first available on the shelves of electronics stores. It's always good to have a record of yourself pulling an insane trick that you might not ever again duplicate, film your friends eating pavement as they try to outdo you, and maybe, just maybe, you might eventually get noticed and sponsored.

In this case, the students filmed a disgusting case of a local cop using bizarrely excessive force on this group of kids. The point of contention here seems to be that the officer was trying to stop, or even cite, the kids for skateboarding in a place that wasn't zoned for it. But it ended with police officer Joey Williams grabbing no fewer than three kids by their necks, some of them as young as 13.

The kids' videos were, of course, immediately posted to YouTube. It's not the Rodney King beating by any stretch, but take a look and judge for yourself if this should fall into either category of "excessive force" or "police brutality."

The first thing that struck me is the sheer size difference between this cop and the kids. The second, and the thing that has everyone up at arms, is his putting a 13-year old girl in a headlock, particularly when she looks like she weighs about 80 pounds. Officer Joey Williams has to be at least three times her weight.

AP articles say that the choke hold on the girl actually lifted her feet off the ground. That's obviously some really good police work in action. I also noticed that when Officer Joey Williams had the two kids in a headlock, there was another police officer standing next to him, who obviously didn't feel that the situation warranted his stepping in, as he stands to the side, looking like he doesn't want any part of this.

With nearly a million page views as of this writing, the YouTube video is getting a lot of air time. On the noticed and sponsored
Reason http://reason.com/blog/show/121095.html
blog, participants had some insightful comments from citizens across the United States and abroad. Some of my favorites:

"...you do blame the cop, for a wildly disproportionate response to the situation. He probably walked by three dozen violations of nitpicky city ordinances before he decided choking a 13-year-old was a good idea."

"So cops are allowed to choke minors who violate a city ordinance? No one in the video was "resisting arrest" -- that little girl surely wasn't. Just because someone may be violating a fucking ordinance doesn't give cops the right to rought them up. Also, isn't violation of a city ordinance usually punishable by fine, not arrest?"

"And nothing in the video indicates that the girl was under arrest when she decided to run....So he put a teenage girl in a headlock without cause.... I think that's over the line."

"I love the "resisting arrest" line thrown in there. As Americans is it not our right and duty to resist unlawful arrest?"

In response to the widespread attention that the video has gotten Mayor Mike Bush told the Associated Press that "Unfortunately, the video shows it pretty good....Bush called Williams "one of 100 best and finest we've got" in the city's police department."

Here's the only really funny part of this story, and one I haven't seen noted anywhere else. Consider Mayor Bush's statement, then read this statement taken verbatim from the Hot Springs website:

"The 99-officer Police Department provides basic police services in addition to various other special community programs such as Drug Awareness, Neighborhood Watch, Personal Safety, Housewatch, and Home/Business Security Analysis."

On the same website, there is a special section called the Mayor's Youth Council. Not surprisingly, no results were found for the search of "police choking."

Officer Joey Williams has been placed on administrative leave (which, if you ask me, is a euphemism for paid vacation) while higher powers investigate the incident. But what more can be said after watching the video? Why should this officer continue to have power, authority, and lethal weapons on the streets of America?

If the way this officer handled the situation is ultimately deemed appropriate, does that give me the right to make a citizen's arrest when someone mouths off? Because by Officer Jackboot McOverreact's standards, this would be disturbing the peace. Can I then throw that individual in a headlock, or push him to the ground and hold him by his neck in the name of persuing said citizen's arrest?

Of course, I'm a "civilian," which is police-speak for "the law applies to you and not me." I thought it would be interesting to see what other officers were saying about this incident, and when I came across some of their comments, my stomach turned.

It's unfortunate that these comments will likely reinforce many people's views that police are corrupt, uneducated, and abuse their powers ad infinitum. These comments are not meant to reflect the feelings or opinions of all police officers on the topic. But out of the hundreds of statements I read, I found exactly two officer comments that were flatly critical of Joey Williams:

"azcop2...Leaving a handcuffed suspect behind while you chase another one? Trying to take TWO kids into custody simultaneously (and looking like a fool in the process? Forget the punks, this cop is in serious need of officer safety re-trainig AND temper control."

"emore66...I dont know...Officer looked foolish...I think you have to pick your battles kids riding skateboards on sidewalk not sure it is worth it...I guess what town you work for dictates..."

Other officers did not give their whole-hearted support for Joey Williams, but their dissent fell largely into the "procedural" category:

"JP1...Even after watching a video that the kids "edited", my comment is that they deserved everything they got. Had this happened with one of my officers when I was Chief, I'd of had some serious talks with parents. (However, I would not have left a handcuffed kid on the sidewalk while I chased off another one. We would have found out who he was and got him later.)"

"lupd...looks like the punks needed more than what they got...that said there were some tactical errors on the officers part, but nothing that would be considered police brutality."

"cpd6a2...completely baited! Piece of crap kids need a major spanking. It was nothing but a big joke for them. Officer never should have left a handcuffed kid on the ground by himself to chase after another. Get help and then deal with the rest."

"DetSgt31...Write the kids' tickets for skateboarding, pull the parents in for raising such brats. The problem lies with the parents also, hold them directly responsible. Maybe a trip to the woodshed for Mom and Dad will get them thinking."

"orchevycop...Wow, skateboarding must be an arrestable offense there. Officer might be in the right, but he need some more training in verbal encounters."

Unfortunately, the vast majority of police officer comments read more like these. In considering the tone and intent of these comments, I think that cities and counties across the nation should begin to seriously consider regular and repeated psychological profiles of their officers.

I don't mean that in a humorous tone whatsoever. The reality is that if cops are thinking this way about their jobs and their concepts of what falls into that category is so incredibly broad-based and out of line, we really need some monitoring in place before we send these people out into the streets to utilize their so-called judgement, while heavily armed, in split-second scenarios.

Again, you may judge for yourself. (A sidenote: between the Mayor of Hot Springs and these officer comments, my overriding sense at this point is that it's a story fraught with poor grammar.)

"cross_rifles: Got to do what ya got to do!"

"OHDEP76...All they had to do was comply in an orderly manner and the situation would never have escalated. The officers may have been on the aggressive side, but within reasonable force for sure."

"88pdx...One easy word to learn: COMPLY!"

"pcpc601...hey turd, ya know what failure to comply is?!? if ya didn't, now you do..."

By far the worst comments, in my opinion, are the ones that advocate "ass kickings" to compensate for what they perceive as poor parenting:

"jcarnes718...I didn't see anything wrong on the Officers part. These teenagers think they can do whatever they want to whom ever. I think an ass whipping needs to be handed down to these punks."

"Bears:...When the parent fails the Police step in to do what is needed."

"Bodie: Nothin' Wrong Here...Nothing wrong here that I see. Kids gotta grow up and take an ass kickin' sometime if parents ain't doin' it it's up to the police. It's the parents tax dollars at work."

I have to say that I find these statements to be chilling. It's easy to chalk this kind of bravado up to officer banter, but the real concern is that these people really think that their job is not to protect and serve; not to keep the peace; not to enforce laws; they're saying that it is their job to kick someone's ass to catalyze certain behaviors.

In watching this video, it seems that Officer Joey Williams falls into this category. This outrageous abuse of power didn't stem from enforcing laws or getting dangerous thugs off the street. It was driven purely from Joey Williams' own ego. He didn't like that the kids questioned his authority and he was going to show them that he was da man.

Because this out of control police officer has not been fired, or heaven forbid, at least suspended without pay, the City of Hot Springs, Arkansas hereby wins the Jackass of the Week Award.