I'm not going to sugar-coat it. I find myself thoroughly annoyed by vegans.
Vegetarians, however, are cool with me. When I come across a gang of vegetarians I say, "Hey guys, let me get you some comfortable seats to sit on so we can play some Wii bowling. Can I get you a hot dog? I'm just kidding. Aaaahhhh you guys are great."
But I can smell a vegan from one hundred feet away. Actually, most people can smell a vegan from five hundred feet away. They the hygeine practice of yaks.
They... even when I refer to them as a pronoun I shiver.
Anyone who goes out of their way to avoid anything that has to do with animals is bound for hypocricy. Animals have to do with too many aspects of our lives. The argument of most vegans I meet is that they "want animals to be freed from slavery, man!"
But what vegans don't know is that they're enslaving animals everyday. DEAD ANIMALS. Come on vegans! Don't pretend like you don't know!
I'm talking about fossil fuels.
And don't EVEN get me started on bacteria.
... I'm sorry... I'm just... I'm just too upset to write anymore today...
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Life: Best if Used Before Printed Date
Everyone is talking about healthcare reform. So much, in fact, that I've decided to name my first child Healthcare Reform Jones.
You have people who are freaking out about the possibility of socialized healthcare (despite the fact that the socialized police department, fire department, library, and school all work just fine), and so we have these two options we've been hearing a lot about including a government option and a cooperative option.
However, the one most obvious problem that I don't hear anyone addressing is the problem with overpriced pharmaceuticals that people who don't have insurance can't afford. Those of us that do have insurance have it only so we can afford things like once-a-day Valtrex so that we can do things like practice yoga on the beach and grow sunflowews in our backyards in slow motion like the commercials say we can once our quality of life had improved.
Does anyone see who the real villains are here? Insurance companies enable pharmaceutical companies, and pharmaceutical companies prey on our insecurities and imperfections. But who preys on pharmaceutical companies? Who really wants us to live "happier lives"? Who's really advertising to us on these commemrcials?
That's right.
Yoga instructors and sunflower sales people.
You have people who are freaking out about the possibility of socialized healthcare (despite the fact that the socialized police department, fire department, library, and school all work just fine), and so we have these two options we've been hearing a lot about including a government option and a cooperative option.
However, the one most obvious problem that I don't hear anyone addressing is the problem with overpriced pharmaceuticals that people who don't have insurance can't afford. Those of us that do have insurance have it only so we can afford things like once-a-day Valtrex so that we can do things like practice yoga on the beach and grow sunflowews in our backyards in slow motion like the commercials say we can once our quality of life had improved.
Does anyone see who the real villains are here? Insurance companies enable pharmaceutical companies, and pharmaceutical companies prey on our insecurities and imperfections. But who preys on pharmaceutical companies? Who really wants us to live "happier lives"? Who's really advertising to us on these commemrcials?
That's right.
Yoga instructors and sunflower sales people.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Death: Happily Ever After
I did something the other day that I rarely do.
I watched live television.
It was the first time in months that I wasn't able to skip through the commercials on my DVR. While enduring the various advertisements, I couldn't help but notice the absurd amount of commercials for pharmaceuticals. Over two commercial breaks I saw advertised medication for six different conditions including depression, allergies, high blood pressure, and hair loss. I thought to myself, "The money that pharmaceutical companies are making must be astronomical... but they could be even more astronomical if they advertised medication to prevent death."
It's not that the medication would really even have to do its job. Most medication is a trade-off anyways. You get medication for erectile dysfunction, but now you have high blood pressure, diabetes, and your eyes and your testicles have switched places. It's all a matter of priorities I suppose.
The advertising would be simple. The commercial shows extremely old people doing things they shouldn't be, like contact sports or making love on a beach. Then the smokey-voiced announcer just mentions one of the side effects may include death. People will think to themselves, "I'd say that's a reasonable risk," once they see how much fun people are having in potential immortality.
I should also mention that I've just had the name "Immortalis" copyrighted.
I watched live television.
It was the first time in months that I wasn't able to skip through the commercials on my DVR. While enduring the various advertisements, I couldn't help but notice the absurd amount of commercials for pharmaceuticals. Over two commercial breaks I saw advertised medication for six different conditions including depression, allergies, high blood pressure, and hair loss. I thought to myself, "The money that pharmaceutical companies are making must be astronomical... but they could be even more astronomical if they advertised medication to prevent death."
It's not that the medication would really even have to do its job. Most medication is a trade-off anyways. You get medication for erectile dysfunction, but now you have high blood pressure, diabetes, and your eyes and your testicles have switched places. It's all a matter of priorities I suppose.
The advertising would be simple. The commercial shows extremely old people doing things they shouldn't be, like contact sports or making love on a beach. Then the smokey-voiced announcer just mentions one of the side effects may include death. People will think to themselves, "I'd say that's a reasonable risk," once they see how much fun people are having in potential immortality.
I should also mention that I've just had the name "Immortalis" copyrighted.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Scorpius Erectus
It’s a question I’ve recently been asking myself. I don’t usually kill bugs when I find them in my house. I’ll take them outside, and give them a second chance to notice my “no trespassing” sign. “Next time”, I tell them, “I’m calling the cops.”
Scorpions, however, have no business in my home. And it’s not like I haven’t warned them. I let several go when I first moved in, and I sent them away with pamphlets entitled “So You’ve Decided to Disrespect Other People’s Property” to disburse among their nation.
Now I need to set examples.
Smashing them into my walls seemed to have worked for a while. Now I’ve become bored and annoyed with the inevitable clean up. My cats don’t go after them anymore either. They tell me their union contracts don’t cover scorpions: only moths and lizards.
So I’ve got a new plan.
I printed up a flyer for a scorpions only singles party at my house this Saturday night, And when they all show up, I’m locking them in my living room, turning on the television, and subjecting them to Pearl Harbor. That’s right. You want in? Suck on Pearl Harbor!!!
Yeah, I know. Stupidest blog ever. Shut up.
Scorpions, however, have no business in my home. And it’s not like I haven’t warned them. I let several go when I first moved in, and I sent them away with pamphlets entitled “So You’ve Decided to Disrespect Other People’s Property” to disburse among their nation.
Now I need to set examples.
Smashing them into my walls seemed to have worked for a while. Now I’ve become bored and annoyed with the inevitable clean up. My cats don’t go after them anymore either. They tell me their union contracts don’t cover scorpions: only moths and lizards.
So I’ve got a new plan.
I printed up a flyer for a scorpions only singles party at my house this Saturday night, And when they all show up, I’m locking them in my living room, turning on the television, and subjecting them to Pearl Harbor. That’s right. You want in? Suck on Pearl Harbor!!!
Yeah, I know. Stupidest blog ever. Shut up.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
The Ballad of Michael Cera
It's not that I don't like Michael Cera.
He's young, hip, funny, and kind of a dork.
He's the next Jason Biggs.
Jason Biggs became the new Steven Segal.
What do these three people have in common? They all have the ability to make us laugh. They also have the ability to play the exact same character in any movie.
Michael Cera, Jason Biggs, and Steven Segal can play cavemen in one movie, cyborgs in another, and Brazilian Nazis in the last and still be the same character. That's beyond acting. That's art.
Am I being sarcastic? Yeah... I'm being sarcastic. Was I being sarcastic when I said THAT? I don't remember.
I find the type-casting of these actors incredibly inspiring. As a matter of fact, their roles inspired me to write the exact same song over and over again, calling it something different each time. I'm also including a cover on this set of songs, but it's actually the same song as the others on the album. I'm just calling it "Stairway to Heaven" so now it's a cover.
Thank you, Michael Cera.
He's young, hip, funny, and kind of a dork.
He's the next Jason Biggs.
Jason Biggs became the new Steven Segal.
What do these three people have in common? They all have the ability to make us laugh. They also have the ability to play the exact same character in any movie.
Michael Cera, Jason Biggs, and Steven Segal can play cavemen in one movie, cyborgs in another, and Brazilian Nazis in the last and still be the same character. That's beyond acting. That's art.
Am I being sarcastic? Yeah... I'm being sarcastic. Was I being sarcastic when I said THAT? I don't remember.
I find the type-casting of these actors incredibly inspiring. As a matter of fact, their roles inspired me to write the exact same song over and over again, calling it something different each time. I'm also including a cover on this set of songs, but it's actually the same song as the others on the album. I'm just calling it "Stairway to Heaven" so now it's a cover.
Thank you, Michael Cera.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Cracktown
I recently became a virtual farmer in the farming community of Farmtown on the world wide internet. I should add that I became a farmer against my will. My wife hacked into my facebook account, created a farm in my name, and made me her neighbor so she could gain experience points.
We sit in our backyard and have conversation, but I’m periodically ignored as my wife, with a laptop on her legs, has to buy seeds and sell and harvest crops.
When we go out with our friends, discussion switches to the amount of work they have to do on their farms. I swallow the last of my beer, and hit myself in the head repeatedly with the still-chilled glass.
On the PS3 there is a world within a world. It’s just like this one, except it’s digitalized. You can dance, you can watch movies, and you can even play video games. But it isn’t a video game on your system. It’s the virtual you playing a virtual video game inside another video game.
I had many thoughts at first, such as: “Is there a virtual god in the virtual world?” and “What the f***?”
For a long time I was appalled at the huge number of people wasting their lives and ignoring magnificent things like sunsets, meteor showers, and nachos.
But now I feel happy. I’m happy for the people who’ve found happiness in something like Farmtown. They’re learning how to budget their money. They’re learning about business. They’re becoming environmentally aware. And what’s even more important is that people are becoming distracted so that I can proceed with my invasions of their homes and apartments. After all, who needs a set of Pampered Chef cookery when they have experience points?
We sit in our backyard and have conversation, but I’m periodically ignored as my wife, with a laptop on her legs, has to buy seeds and sell and harvest crops.
When we go out with our friends, discussion switches to the amount of work they have to do on their farms. I swallow the last of my beer, and hit myself in the head repeatedly with the still-chilled glass.
On the PS3 there is a world within a world. It’s just like this one, except it’s digitalized. You can dance, you can watch movies, and you can even play video games. But it isn’t a video game on your system. It’s the virtual you playing a virtual video game inside another video game.
I had many thoughts at first, such as: “Is there a virtual god in the virtual world?” and “What the f***?”
For a long time I was appalled at the huge number of people wasting their lives and ignoring magnificent things like sunsets, meteor showers, and nachos.
But now I feel happy. I’m happy for the people who’ve found happiness in something like Farmtown. They’re learning how to budget their money. They’re learning about business. They’re becoming environmentally aware. And what’s even more important is that people are becoming distracted so that I can proceed with my invasions of their homes and apartments. After all, who needs a set of Pampered Chef cookery when they have experience points?
Monday, August 24, 2009
Consequences of our Actions
I stood on a street corner, regretting my decision to wear all black in August. With my stop sign in one hand, I waited for my students to cross the road while I stared at the defining line between the concrete of the sidewalk and the asphalt of the street.
In that moment, that line represented freedom and slavery.
I looked back at the school, then I looked back to the tree lined streets of emancipation. What would the risk be versus the reward? No paycheck, no insurance, and eventually no house and no car. I would have to forage for my food, and I would have to move into the Canadian wilderness for shelter and fresh water. Ultimately, there is only one question left to ask myself. Which choice will kill me first?
I decided the answer was ‘work’.
So I tossed my stop sign and my teacher badge down to the ground, punched a guy driving by at that moment on a motorcycle, and took his bike home to grab a few necessities before leaving the work life forever. In a backpack I gathered a Swiss Army knife, a lighter, and some Batman comics. But when I got to the door to walk away forever I found I couldn’t turn the knob.
I was still standing on the corner with my stop sign.
At that moment that stop sign seemed so ominous and foreboding. There was absolutely no physical presence stopping me from walking away, yet I couldn’t move. I couldn’t figure out what was stopping me. Children stared at each other as I cursed my immobile legs. Maybe if I had a Segway I wouldn’t be having this problem.
I wondered how many other people dealt with this same dilemma every day. I wondered if there was a medical condition for it. I wondered if television or the internet had me brainwashed into thinking I was a small link in an eternal chain of social responsibility.
And in a horrible epiphany I realized I was responsible for holding myself back. I was contradicting my everyday advice to my friends and my students to chase their dreams and give in to their desires.
I always hated quotes, because there is a belief that if someone said it then it must be true. Woody Allen said, “Those who can’t do teach,” and I always hated that quote particularly. But I started to understand what he meant. I went to school for sixteen or more years, took a look at the world, lost my nerve, and went back to school because it was all I knew.
I’ve been standing on that corner for thirty years afraid to see what might happen if I walked across the street. I’ve been afraid of the risk. I’ve been afraid of the consequence. But the only consequence to living is life.
In that moment, that line represented freedom and slavery.
I looked back at the school, then I looked back to the tree lined streets of emancipation. What would the risk be versus the reward? No paycheck, no insurance, and eventually no house and no car. I would have to forage for my food, and I would have to move into the Canadian wilderness for shelter and fresh water. Ultimately, there is only one question left to ask myself. Which choice will kill me first?
I decided the answer was ‘work’.
So I tossed my stop sign and my teacher badge down to the ground, punched a guy driving by at that moment on a motorcycle, and took his bike home to grab a few necessities before leaving the work life forever. In a backpack I gathered a Swiss Army knife, a lighter, and some Batman comics. But when I got to the door to walk away forever I found I couldn’t turn the knob.
I was still standing on the corner with my stop sign.
At that moment that stop sign seemed so ominous and foreboding. There was absolutely no physical presence stopping me from walking away, yet I couldn’t move. I couldn’t figure out what was stopping me. Children stared at each other as I cursed my immobile legs. Maybe if I had a Segway I wouldn’t be having this problem.
I wondered how many other people dealt with this same dilemma every day. I wondered if there was a medical condition for it. I wondered if television or the internet had me brainwashed into thinking I was a small link in an eternal chain of social responsibility.
And in a horrible epiphany I realized I was responsible for holding myself back. I was contradicting my everyday advice to my friends and my students to chase their dreams and give in to their desires.
I always hated quotes, because there is a belief that if someone said it then it must be true. Woody Allen said, “Those who can’t do teach,” and I always hated that quote particularly. But I started to understand what he meant. I went to school for sixteen or more years, took a look at the world, lost my nerve, and went back to school because it was all I knew.
I’ve been standing on that corner for thirty years afraid to see what might happen if I walked across the street. I’ve been afraid of the risk. I’ve been afraid of the consequence. But the only consequence to living is life.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
My Interview with Lil Wayne
I found out Lil Wayne can be hired to sing on your song for seventy thousand dollars per line. Lucky for me, he only charges sixty thousand per question in an interview.
Viva La Revolucion: Lil Wayne... thanks for coming by and talking with us today.
Lil Wayne: Could you say that again in the form of a question?
VLR: Um... for coming by, thanks... no wait, let's say this... Are you coming by to... no, that doesn't work either. I suppose I can't.
LW: It's aight.
VLR: I was reading the lyrics to your song "Baseball Sex". "I met her on first base standing all alone... we went 2 second base n now she in my zone... then we told Mr. third base we gon'..." do you mean gone or going?
LW: Gon'.
VLR: Sorry... was that... gone or going?
LW: Gon'.
VLR: Um... okay... and Mr. Third? Who's Mr. Third? Is this one of the coaches?
LW: Nah, man. Third. Third base. I jus' say Mr. 'cause I needed an extra syllable.
VLR: I see. Then you say, "I told you I'm taking one of these girls home." So you're taking this girl to your home?
LW: Yup.
VLR: What about home plate? If you're playing baseball you need to go to home plate still. I mean unless it's the end of the inning and the last batter struck out...
LW: Look man, we ain't talkin' about baseball...
VLR: Woah woah woah! We're NOT?
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart: Lil Wayne!!!
VLR: Holy shit!!! Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart's zombie!!!
LW: What the hell, man?!
Mozart: I composed esoteric symphonies to pave the road for artists like YOU?!
LW: Hold on, man. Hold on...
Mozart: AAAARRRGGHHHH!!!
LW: AAAAAAARRRRGGGHHH!!!
VLR: Oh my God!!! Mozart's zombie just ate Lil Wayne's face!!! This is horrible!!! Why did I choose to use audio instead of video for this interview?! Oh, the humanity!!!
Viva La Revolucion: Lil Wayne... thanks for coming by and talking with us today.
Lil Wayne: Could you say that again in the form of a question?
VLR: Um... for coming by, thanks... no wait, let's say this... Are you coming by to... no, that doesn't work either. I suppose I can't.
LW: It's aight.
VLR: I was reading the lyrics to your song "Baseball Sex". "I met her on first base standing all alone... we went 2 second base n now she in my zone... then we told Mr. third base we gon'..." do you mean gone or going?
LW: Gon'.
VLR: Sorry... was that... gone or going?
LW: Gon'.
VLR: Um... okay... and Mr. Third? Who's Mr. Third? Is this one of the coaches?
LW: Nah, man. Third. Third base. I jus' say Mr. 'cause I needed an extra syllable.
VLR: I see. Then you say, "I told you I'm taking one of these girls home." So you're taking this girl to your home?
LW: Yup.
VLR: What about home plate? If you're playing baseball you need to go to home plate still. I mean unless it's the end of the inning and the last batter struck out...
LW: Look man, we ain't talkin' about baseball...
VLR: Woah woah woah! We're NOT?
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart: Lil Wayne!!!
VLR: Holy shit!!! Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart's zombie!!!
LW: What the hell, man?!
Mozart: I composed esoteric symphonies to pave the road for artists like YOU?!
LW: Hold on, man. Hold on...
Mozart: AAAARRRGGHHHH!!!
LW: AAAAAAARRRRGGGHHH!!!
VLR: Oh my God!!! Mozart's zombie just ate Lil Wayne's face!!! This is horrible!!! Why did I choose to use audio instead of video for this interview?! Oh, the humanity!!!
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Friendship: Virtually Retarded
I was given fried chicken a few days ago. It was imaginary. I’ve also recently been given flowers, beer, and a massage. They were also imaginary.
All of these gifts came to me via Facebook.
When I was three I used to pretend that I was wearing a jetpack and intercepting Russian missiles. When I was seven I would pretend that I was a pirate, lost at sea, who survived on the brains of giant squids. When I was eighteen I went to college. When I was thirty I got some pretend fried chicken.
Now before I recreate yesterday’s tirade in blog form, allow me to deconstruct your criticism.
“It’s just fun.”
No it isn’t. If I have a message that says I’ve been given a virtual Coke, I’d better be able to be virtually refreshed by it.
“It’s a display of friendship.”
No it isn’t. I don’t give my friends pretend gifts unless I’m pretending to be their friend.
“Just relax and go with it.”
I can’t. I’m thirty years old and I’m being asked to pretend I’m thankful for a pretend gift in a pretend world. And if I get one more pretend gift, I’m going to pretend to kill myself. Those of you who enjoy these pretend situations will pretend to be mortified by my pretend suicide. And I’ll pretend to be sorry for any pretend emotional damage I do.
All of these gifts came to me via Facebook.
When I was three I used to pretend that I was wearing a jetpack and intercepting Russian missiles. When I was seven I would pretend that I was a pirate, lost at sea, who survived on the brains of giant squids. When I was eighteen I went to college. When I was thirty I got some pretend fried chicken.
Now before I recreate yesterday’s tirade in blog form, allow me to deconstruct your criticism.
“It’s just fun.”
No it isn’t. If I have a message that says I’ve been given a virtual Coke, I’d better be able to be virtually refreshed by it.
“It’s a display of friendship.”
No it isn’t. I don’t give my friends pretend gifts unless I’m pretending to be their friend.
“Just relax and go with it.”
I can’t. I’m thirty years old and I’m being asked to pretend I’m thankful for a pretend gift in a pretend world. And if I get one more pretend gift, I’m going to pretend to kill myself. Those of you who enjoy these pretend situations will pretend to be mortified by my pretend suicide. And I’ll pretend to be sorry for any pretend emotional damage I do.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Mankind: Totally Screwed
Hollywood has produced so many movies about the day the machines take over and slaughter human beings that I actually find myself getting angry when a new one is made.
At first I thought the reason was that the novelty had worn off. No one is still saying, "Woah woah woah! You mean machines could one day pillage my belongings and enslave my family? What the f?" It's commonplace now. It's fact. Machines will someday rise to the top of the food chain. Everyone knows that.
But yesterday I witnessed a woman in her forties trying to return a redbox dvd at Walgreens. She couldn't do it. Then a nice college guy tried to help her. He couldn't do it either. At the same time a man had trouble starting his new Prius in the parking lot. A woman, on her way out of the store, had her call dropped on her cell phone. A teenager looked confused as he searched his Ipod for songs he thought he uploaded. Then all of these people looked at one another helplessly for answers.
Ladies and gentlemen, the machines have already won.
At first I thought the reason was that the novelty had worn off. No one is still saying, "Woah woah woah! You mean machines could one day pillage my belongings and enslave my family? What the f?" It's commonplace now. It's fact. Machines will someday rise to the top of the food chain. Everyone knows that.
But yesterday I witnessed a woman in her forties trying to return a redbox dvd at Walgreens. She couldn't do it. Then a nice college guy tried to help her. He couldn't do it either. At the same time a man had trouble starting his new Prius in the parking lot. A woman, on her way out of the store, had her call dropped on her cell phone. A teenager looked confused as he searched his Ipod for songs he thought he uploaded. Then all of these people looked at one another helplessly for answers.
Ladies and gentlemen, the machines have already won.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Got Originality?
I'm sitting in my car getting ready for the light to change, performing my daily ritual of reading stickers on the backs of cars. There are two stick figures on the back of one, followed by about fifteen little stick figures with names that all begin the same letter. Another car has the name of a tattoo parlor thirty times the size of the actual tattoo they got there. The last one I look at as the signal changes says, "Got God?"
My first thought is, "You can't put that in a glass."
Later that day I see a car sticker that says, "Got Feet?"
Outloud, I actually said, "Got Feet? What the hell does that mean?"
I'm bothered by stickers that read, "Got ____?" They keep me up at night. I fly into drunken rages because of them. I've been arrested and heavily sedated because of them.
It's not clever anymore. It never was. And I don't think people understand that when you take an existing slogan or quote and change one word it isn't original. "Got ____?" is the Abercrombie and Fitch of diction.
...And yes, I realize the irony of my blog's title. Shut up.
My first thought is, "You can't put that in a glass."
Later that day I see a car sticker that says, "Got Feet?"
Outloud, I actually said, "Got Feet? What the hell does that mean?"
I'm bothered by stickers that read, "Got ____?" They keep me up at night. I fly into drunken rages because of them. I've been arrested and heavily sedated because of them.
It's not clever anymore. It never was. And I don't think people understand that when you take an existing slogan or quote and change one word it isn't original. "Got ____?" is the Abercrombie and Fitch of diction.
...And yes, I realize the irony of my blog's title. Shut up.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Sarah Palin: A Tribute
Shocked by the news that Sarah Palin is resigning from her position as Alaska governor, I ran some scenarios over in my head (because choosing to share these ideas in an actual conversation with someone would be a complete waste of time).
My first thought was the publicity. She's got a camera up in her shit all the time now. I suppose that's the price of celebrity.
My second thought (fear) was that she's preparing herself for the 2012 presidency.
So dressed as a caribou, I spent all last week following Sarah Palin to find the truth. And here's what I found.
1. Caribou suits have poor visibility and attract hunters.
2. Sarah Palin spends most of her time in an abandoned warehouse roughing people up tied to chairs.
3. She spends her evenings in the forest with a ouija board, an old blind man, and a virgin.
4. She drinks what appears to be the blood of the innocent, although it could be syrah.
It's obvious what's happening here. Resignation, intimidation, secret meetings, blood orgies... she's going back to school to become a kindergarten teacher.
My first thought was the publicity. She's got a camera up in her shit all the time now. I suppose that's the price of celebrity.
My second thought (fear) was that she's preparing herself for the 2012 presidency.
So dressed as a caribou, I spent all last week following Sarah Palin to find the truth. And here's what I found.
1. Caribou suits have poor visibility and attract hunters.
2. Sarah Palin spends most of her time in an abandoned warehouse roughing people up tied to chairs.
3. She spends her evenings in the forest with a ouija board, an old blind man, and a virgin.
4. She drinks what appears to be the blood of the innocent, although it could be syrah.
It's obvious what's happening here. Resignation, intimidation, secret meetings, blood orgies... she's going back to school to become a kindergarten teacher.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
How Not to be a Douche: Step One
I've listened to a lot of criticism of Barack Obama. That's to be expected. He's a politician, and no politician in history has been able to please all of the people all of the time.
The most common criticism I've heard is about his promises. He's promised to do things he hasn't done yet. But when you've got to fix the amount of devastation he's been left with, you've got to prioritize.
There is one thing, however, that really bothered me. A large amount of people were upset that Barack Obama isn't taking a strong stance on Iran. Some of these people are upset for political reasons, but it's the people who are upset about this for humanitarian reasons who got me upset.
The unfortunate part of a republic is that we elect people we think will represent us to make decisions for us. That doesn't always happen the way we want. Some things are beyond our control.
But people often complain about things they have control over.
If I have to hear one more person compain about America not being involved in humanitarian aide in other countries, I'm going to kick a puppy. I am going to KICK... a puppy.
There are dozens of organizations that exist for this very reason (humanitarian aide, not kicking puppies). We have the Red Cross, Amnesty, and Oxfam to name a few. These organizations thrive on volunteer work and donations and they do a lot of good. All anyone has to do is go to a website for one of these organizations to find out what they can do.
What I'm trying to say is stop bitching about the world not changing, because you can start changing the world by yourself.
The most common criticism I've heard is about his promises. He's promised to do things he hasn't done yet. But when you've got to fix the amount of devastation he's been left with, you've got to prioritize.
There is one thing, however, that really bothered me. A large amount of people were upset that Barack Obama isn't taking a strong stance on Iran. Some of these people are upset for political reasons, but it's the people who are upset about this for humanitarian reasons who got me upset.
The unfortunate part of a republic is that we elect people we think will represent us to make decisions for us. That doesn't always happen the way we want. Some things are beyond our control.
But people often complain about things they have control over.
If I have to hear one more person compain about America not being involved in humanitarian aide in other countries, I'm going to kick a puppy. I am going to KICK... a puppy.
There are dozens of organizations that exist for this very reason (humanitarian aide, not kicking puppies). We have the Red Cross, Amnesty, and Oxfam to name a few. These organizations thrive on volunteer work and donations and they do a lot of good. All anyone has to do is go to a website for one of these organizations to find out what they can do.
What I'm trying to say is stop bitching about the world not changing, because you can start changing the world by yourself.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Sign Spinning: The New Romance Language
America.
It's an amazing place. And one thing I find especially amazing is free enterprise. If you're good at something, you can make money at it.
Amid my travels today, I saw a man spinning a sign on the corner. I found myself hypnotized by his advanced sign spinning skills, but was able to tear my gaze away from his hands and down to his shirt. On it was an icon of another man spinning a sign. This sign spinner I was admiring was outsourced.
That's right. There are actually companies that employ and train people to spin signs for other companies. In fact, there's probably someone spinning a sign right now at a job fair for future sign spinners. By 2014, Arizona State is going to have a sign spinning department.
Recently I was in downtown Phoenix and witnessed two kids spinning large pieces of cardboard with a box of money in front of them.
At this point I'd like to piggyback a question on my free enterprise comment.
WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!
Mozart composed esoteric symphonies and operas. DaVinci invented something new every day. Michelangelo created paintings that would make God weep. Now we're applauding and cheering people for spinning cardboard behind their backs.
Ladies and gentlemen, we're living in a time I am hereby dubbing THE ANTI-RENAISSANCE: A time when we celebrate the mundane.
Keep your fingers crossed for a plague.
It's an amazing place. And one thing I find especially amazing is free enterprise. If you're good at something, you can make money at it.
Amid my travels today, I saw a man spinning a sign on the corner. I found myself hypnotized by his advanced sign spinning skills, but was able to tear my gaze away from his hands and down to his shirt. On it was an icon of another man spinning a sign. This sign spinner I was admiring was outsourced.
That's right. There are actually companies that employ and train people to spin signs for other companies. In fact, there's probably someone spinning a sign right now at a job fair for future sign spinners. By 2014, Arizona State is going to have a sign spinning department.
Recently I was in downtown Phoenix and witnessed two kids spinning large pieces of cardboard with a box of money in front of them.
At this point I'd like to piggyback a question on my free enterprise comment.
WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!
Mozart composed esoteric symphonies and operas. DaVinci invented something new every day. Michelangelo created paintings that would make God weep. Now we're applauding and cheering people for spinning cardboard behind their backs.
Ladies and gentlemen, we're living in a time I am hereby dubbing THE ANTI-RENAISSANCE: A time when we celebrate the mundane.
Keep your fingers crossed for a plague.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Letter to God, Part 5
Our Father Who Art In Heaven:
How are the kids? I'm thinking about having one. Being a man who has about six billion of them, what kind of advice could you give me?
I've been thinking a lot about death. I've decided that if and when I come back after I die, I'd like to come back as a sequel.
Before I reenter this world, I think it would be cool to have a tag line for Phil Part II. I was thinking something like, "One Man. One Life. One More Time."
I'm also going to need a sub-title; like Terminator 5: Rise of Christian Bale's Blood Pressure.
I'll send you the preliminary script for my next life. You can let me know what you think. I'm sure you have some great ideas. Oh, and I'd really like to play the part of me if it's possible.
Phil
How are the kids? I'm thinking about having one. Being a man who has about six billion of them, what kind of advice could you give me?
I've been thinking a lot about death. I've decided that if and when I come back after I die, I'd like to come back as a sequel.
Before I reenter this world, I think it would be cool to have a tag line for Phil Part II. I was thinking something like, "One Man. One Life. One More Time."
I'm also going to need a sub-title; like Terminator 5: Rise of Christian Bale's Blood Pressure.
I'll send you the preliminary script for my next life. You can let me know what you think. I'm sure you have some great ideas. Oh, and I'd really like to play the part of me if it's possible.
Phil
Monday, June 15, 2009
Taxes: Good for Everyone but You
I, like most people, look at my before-tax earnings on my paycheck and say, "Yes!". Then I look at my after-tax earnings and say, "No! Goddamnit!"
I take a couple of deep breaths and remind myself that without taxes I'd be driving on dirt roads full of dead animals. Then I look at my Social Security and Medicare taxes and punch a hole in the space-time continuum with my rage.
Why? I'm thirty years old and I'm never going to see a dime of either of those funds.
When I retire I'm going to have a 401K (which will translate to an IOU by the time I'm sixty) and a years of service watch which I'll pawn to pay for my Netflix bill.
But I hold one small candle of hope: That someday we'll have free healthcare.
When I'm an old man having to sell my Wind Energy stock so I can afford to supersize my McDonald's Big Tofu Mac and Asparagus Fries, I want to take comfort in knowning that I don't have to come up with the money to see a doctor when my colon starts to rot.
There's just one problem with this beautiful idea of free healthcare. To do it, we'll probably have to pay more in taxes. And as we all know Americans don't like to do anything that involves an ounce of sacrifice.
So rather than give up a few extra dollars on our paychecks, I have a solution:
We should all spend thousands of dollars on health insurance, co-pays, tests, prescriptions, and hospital visits.
It's genius.
I take a couple of deep breaths and remind myself that without taxes I'd be driving on dirt roads full of dead animals. Then I look at my Social Security and Medicare taxes and punch a hole in the space-time continuum with my rage.
Why? I'm thirty years old and I'm never going to see a dime of either of those funds.
When I retire I'm going to have a 401K (which will translate to an IOU by the time I'm sixty) and a years of service watch which I'll pawn to pay for my Netflix bill.
But I hold one small candle of hope: That someday we'll have free healthcare.
When I'm an old man having to sell my Wind Energy stock so I can afford to supersize my McDonald's Big Tofu Mac and Asparagus Fries, I want to take comfort in knowning that I don't have to come up with the money to see a doctor when my colon starts to rot.
There's just one problem with this beautiful idea of free healthcare. To do it, we'll probably have to pay more in taxes. And as we all know Americans don't like to do anything that involves an ounce of sacrifice.
So rather than give up a few extra dollars on our paychecks, I have a solution:
We should all spend thousands of dollars on health insurance, co-pays, tests, prescriptions, and hospital visits.
It's genius.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Things I'd Like to See Escape from a Lab
As many of you probably already know, it turns out the swine flu (registered trademark) is the old H1N1 virus that people were getting every year before the 1970s. Most likely, according to articles, it got loose from a lab where it was being experimented on.
There's a part of me that finds it disturbing that dangerous viruses are being experimented with. A smaller part of me finds it disturbing that someone handling potentially deadly viruses is careless enough to let a lab pig loose. Then again, a very large part of me sees opportunity in lab viruses the way oil men see opportunity in national forests.
Labs are like Area 51. No one knows what's going on inside, but every so often someone sees a pig with a turtle shell or aliens with Illuminati tattoos.
Thanks to labs, I'm beginning to think that all of the fantastical things I believed in when I was a kid are possible. After all, there's been talk for years about cloning prehistoric animals. The following is a list of ten things I'd like to see escape from a lab (besides ten zombies).
1. giant sea horses
2. fire breathing lady bugs
3. Dick Cheney's soul
4. mechanical cockroaches
5. minotaurs
6. cows that give Tang instead of milk
7. monkeys that speak with refined british accents
8. a virus that turns everyone into responsible members of society
9. nuclear unicorns
10. Walt Disney's angry, frozen head
There's a part of me that finds it disturbing that dangerous viruses are being experimented with. A smaller part of me finds it disturbing that someone handling potentially deadly viruses is careless enough to let a lab pig loose. Then again, a very large part of me sees opportunity in lab viruses the way oil men see opportunity in national forests.
Labs are like Area 51. No one knows what's going on inside, but every so often someone sees a pig with a turtle shell or aliens with Illuminati tattoos.
Thanks to labs, I'm beginning to think that all of the fantastical things I believed in when I was a kid are possible. After all, there's been talk for years about cloning prehistoric animals. The following is a list of ten things I'd like to see escape from a lab (besides ten zombies).
1. giant sea horses
2. fire breathing lady bugs
3. Dick Cheney's soul
4. mechanical cockroaches
5. minotaurs
6. cows that give Tang instead of milk
7. monkeys that speak with refined british accents
8. a virus that turns everyone into responsible members of society
9. nuclear unicorns
10. Walt Disney's angry, frozen head
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Zombie Walk 2009
I've posted information about the next Zombie Walk on ZombieWalk.com. I'm planning on having it at Xtreme Bean in Tempe on Halloween, but I might move it to downtown Phoenix.
If I had my way, we'd be doing this on an abandoned air force base in Nevada.
I've also considered La Petite Academy and Scottsdale Fashion Square.
Alas, I am only a man.
Updates to come. Please check the website frequently.
If I had my way, we'd be doing this on an abandoned air force base in Nevada.
I've also considered La Petite Academy and Scottsdale Fashion Square.
Alas, I am only a man.
Updates to come. Please check the website frequently.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
So Cold...
I'm not feeling... so well... I've... been walking... for days... just me and.. laptop... fire ants... came outta nowhere... just started biting... dear God the biting... head feels... light... need... need... eat... br... brain... brains... BRAAAAAAAAAIIIIINNNNNNNSSSSSS...
Plagues: Trendy!
Special thanks to Levi for alerting me to the news article titled "Parasitic Flies turn Fire Ants into Zombies".
Apparently the "infected" wander mindlessly away from their mounds until their heads fall off.
However, my favorite part of the article reads, "making zombies out of fire ants is a good thing". It's population control.
God forbid the population of fire ants grows too large. Who knows what could happen. They could become more intelligent, build cities, start religions, strip mine the earth, invent atomic weapons, pollute the oceans and the air, and establish military torture prisons in Cuba. Then the more intelligent of the fire ants might create vaccines, medicines, and antibodies to overcome natural population control and they would continue to flourish until all natural resources were drained. Can you imagine what could happen if a species' population was allowed to grow too large?!
Well, it's time to drive home from work and I wanna beat that rush hour traffic.
Apparently the "infected" wander mindlessly away from their mounds until their heads fall off.
However, my favorite part of the article reads, "making zombies out of fire ants is a good thing". It's population control.
God forbid the population of fire ants grows too large. Who knows what could happen. They could become more intelligent, build cities, start religions, strip mine the earth, invent atomic weapons, pollute the oceans and the air, and establish military torture prisons in Cuba. Then the more intelligent of the fire ants might create vaccines, medicines, and antibodies to overcome natural population control and they would continue to flourish until all natural resources were drained. Can you imagine what could happen if a species' population was allowed to grow too large?!
Well, it's time to drive home from work and I wanna beat that rush hour traffic.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Why We Need Atomic Bombs and Marshmallows
While giving my students a lesson on the elements of culture I had an epiphany.
We all need to go back to our tribes and forsake all forms of government.
As I write this, computers are alerting the CIA of my whereabouts and a van has mysteriously appeared outside of my home.
What defines a culture? Religion, language, music, customs, geography, professions, and governments are all pieces of the picture according to my teacher’s edition. I thought to myself, “Governments are part of our culture?” I suppose at one time they were. We’ve gone from alpha males to chiefs to kings to emperors to priests to dictators in a relatively short amount of time. Government as we know it has been forming ever since the first person said to the rest of his tribe, “What’re you lookin’ at, punk ass?”
At least in tribal days one could answer that question by clubbing that person in the face with a cactus. In archaeological terms, we call this a coup d’etat.
I think that if most of us had a choice between having to make our own fire every day or sit in gridlocked traffic every morning and evening we'd take the fire. If we had to forage for our own food or pay insurance deductibles we'd forage. If we had to be disfigured by a grizzly bear because we thought a cave was unoccupied or pay taxes for the rest of our lives we'd take the grizzly bear.
If anyone needs me I'll be building a tree house and instigating a nuclear winter.
We all need to go back to our tribes and forsake all forms of government.
As I write this, computers are alerting the CIA of my whereabouts and a van has mysteriously appeared outside of my home.
What defines a culture? Religion, language, music, customs, geography, professions, and governments are all pieces of the picture according to my teacher’s edition. I thought to myself, “Governments are part of our culture?” I suppose at one time they were. We’ve gone from alpha males to chiefs to kings to emperors to priests to dictators in a relatively short amount of time. Government as we know it has been forming ever since the first person said to the rest of his tribe, “What’re you lookin’ at, punk ass?”
At least in tribal days one could answer that question by clubbing that person in the face with a cactus. In archaeological terms, we call this a coup d’etat.
I think that if most of us had a choice between having to make our own fire every day or sit in gridlocked traffic every morning and evening we'd take the fire. If we had to forage for our own food or pay insurance deductibles we'd forage. If we had to be disfigured by a grizzly bear because we thought a cave was unoccupied or pay taxes for the rest of our lives we'd take the grizzly bear.
If anyone needs me I'll be building a tree house and instigating a nuclear winter.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Dead Babies and Other Offensive Topics
My brother put it best. 100 people die of Swine Flu and everyone washes their hands. Millions of people die from AIDS and no one wears a condom. And where is the Swine Flu Awareness ribbon? You people think I'm joking, but I looked into the different "awareness" ribbons recently and found that there's virtually a ribbon for ANYTHING. Here are some of the best ones I found:
Acid Reflux Disease Awareness ribbons
Agent Orange Exposure Awareness ribbons
Designated Driver ribbons
Eczema Awareness ribbons
Elderly Abuse Awareness ribbons
Eye Injury Prevention ribbons
Feral Cat Awareness ribbons
Fireworks Safety ribbons
Headaches Awareness ribbons
High Blood Pressure ribbons
Huffing Awareness ribbons
Irritable Bowel Syndrome Awareness ribbons
Mourning Awareness ribbons
No Unattended Kids in Cars ribbons
Restless Legs Syndrome ribbons
Self Injury Awareness ribbons
Sniffing Awareness ribbons
For the first time ever, I'm not making any of this up.
What do dead babies have to do with any of this? Absolutely nothing.
Acid Reflux Disease Awareness ribbons
Agent Orange Exposure Awareness ribbons
Designated Driver ribbons
Eczema Awareness ribbons
Elderly Abuse Awareness ribbons
Eye Injury Prevention ribbons
Feral Cat Awareness ribbons
Fireworks Safety ribbons
Headaches Awareness ribbons
High Blood Pressure ribbons
Huffing Awareness ribbons
Irritable Bowel Syndrome Awareness ribbons
Mourning Awareness ribbons
No Unattended Kids in Cars ribbons
Restless Legs Syndrome ribbons
Self Injury Awareness ribbons
Sniffing Awareness ribbons
For the first time ever, I'm not making any of this up.
What do dead babies have to do with any of this? Absolutely nothing.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
The Bloody Eye Socket Virus Strikes Again
Swine Flu is a terrible name for a virus. And not because it contains the word "swine" and makes me think of greasy animals rolling in their own filth. It's a terrible name because it's unoriginal. How are people supposed to be afraid of a virus with such a mundane title?
My suggestion would be something that would rival the "Black Death" of the Renaissance. How about "The Bloody Eye Socket Full of Unidentified Larvae Virus" or "The F*** You Up Until You Die A Miserable Lonely Death Virus"? We have a beautiful language full of amazing adjectives.
One country is slaughtering all of its pigs just to be on the safe side. I think that's a great idea. We should also slaughter all people in a one hundred mile radius of any suspected human case and burn down their houses and fields. Eventually twelve of us will be left to live as nuclear mutants in a barren wasteland. Problem solved.
My suggestion would be something that would rival the "Black Death" of the Renaissance. How about "The Bloody Eye Socket Full of Unidentified Larvae Virus" or "The F*** You Up Until You Die A Miserable Lonely Death Virus"? We have a beautiful language full of amazing adjectives.
One country is slaughtering all of its pigs just to be on the safe side. I think that's a great idea. We should also slaughter all people in a one hundred mile radius of any suspected human case and burn down their houses and fields. Eventually twelve of us will be left to live as nuclear mutants in a barren wasteland. Problem solved.
Friday, April 24, 2009
Question of the Week April 24
So... no one is responding to my weekly questions...
I've decided that maybe people are still reading them and considering their own answers. Maybe someone is reevaluating their life right now because of my questions. Maybe someone else is joining the peace corps. Maybe someone else is invading a neighboring country.
I was eating my "Tuscan Style Chicken Sandwich" at lunch and thinking about how exotic that sounds. Suddenly I felt myself thrust into an Italian vineyard, playing a lute, and romancing the local married women. And that, for some reason, got me thinking about cannibals.
What would be considered exotic for cannibals?
I've decided that maybe people are still reading them and considering their own answers. Maybe someone is reevaluating their life right now because of my questions. Maybe someone else is joining the peace corps. Maybe someone else is invading a neighboring country.
I was eating my "Tuscan Style Chicken Sandwich" at lunch and thinking about how exotic that sounds. Suddenly I felt myself thrust into an Italian vineyard, playing a lute, and romancing the local married women. And that, for some reason, got me thinking about cannibals.
What would be considered exotic for cannibals?
In Memory of "In Memory of" Stickers
People are stupid. We all know that. Or maybe some of us don't. In that case, you're part of the problem.
It's become an epidemic: "In Memory of ______" stickers on the backs of cars. And it makes me want to suffocate a kitten.
Do these people know that the item on which you write "In Memory of _____" becomes the dedicated object? Why wouldn't you donate a bench to a park in that person's name? Or donate some money in that person's name to build a school? I should hope that when I die someone doesn't commemorate my life on something that needs routine tire rotations and oil changes. The car represents the memory of that person? Every time the car is driven we're supposed to think about that person's life?
This sort of thing not only reminds me of the amount of ignorance in the world, but it also makes me think about how I want people to think of me after I leave this world. The following is a list of things I want in death:
1. An epitaph on my headstone that reads "Avenge Me!"
2. A donation made to zombie research
3. Ribbons made for "zombie research awareness"
4. A holiday in my honor on which people give gifts and don't go to work
5. A statue of myself in the village square with a historically inaccurate list of my achievements
6. Instead of a cross and flowers at the site of my death, I'd like a white flag of surrender
It's become an epidemic: "In Memory of ______" stickers on the backs of cars. And it makes me want to suffocate a kitten.
Do these people know that the item on which you write "In Memory of _____" becomes the dedicated object? Why wouldn't you donate a bench to a park in that person's name? Or donate some money in that person's name to build a school? I should hope that when I die someone doesn't commemorate my life on something that needs routine tire rotations and oil changes. The car represents the memory of that person? Every time the car is driven we're supposed to think about that person's life?
This sort of thing not only reminds me of the amount of ignorance in the world, but it also makes me think about how I want people to think of me after I leave this world. The following is a list of things I want in death:
1. An epitaph on my headstone that reads "Avenge Me!"
2. A donation made to zombie research
3. Ribbons made for "zombie research awareness"
4. A holiday in my honor on which people give gifts and don't go to work
5. A statue of myself in the village square with a historically inaccurate list of my achievements
6. Instead of a cross and flowers at the site of my death, I'd like a white flag of surrender
Monday, April 20, 2009
Roland Emmerich: Catnip for Humans
This morning at work I’m reading the news on the internet, and I come across Roland Emmerich’s new movie: 2012. For those of you who don’t already know, Roland Emmerich is my arch Nemesis. I’ve filed a restraining order against him, and his movies aren’t allowed within one hundred feet of me.
“Alright,” you say, “I can understand where you’re coming from. His movies are big-budget, over-the-top pieces of crap that have no scientific credibility, and he preys on the fears of the public and profits from it.” Then you say, “But they look f***ing amazing!!!”
Yeah, I know. I must be jealous of his ability to make crap shine like diamonds. Blah blah blah.
I just have a simple request for my readers: PLEASE DON’T GO SEE THIS MOVIE!!! If you have any respect for history and science then PLEASE don’t go see 2012.
"Letter to God Part Five" was a request to have Roland Emmerich trapped under a gas truck, but I can't publish it for legal reasons.
Sigh.
“Alright,” you say, “I can understand where you’re coming from. His movies are big-budget, over-the-top pieces of crap that have no scientific credibility, and he preys on the fears of the public and profits from it.” Then you say, “But they look f***ing amazing!!!”
Yeah, I know. I must be jealous of his ability to make crap shine like diamonds. Blah blah blah.
I just have a simple request for my readers: PLEASE DON’T GO SEE THIS MOVIE!!! If you have any respect for history and science then PLEASE don’t go see 2012.
"Letter to God Part Five" was a request to have Roland Emmerich trapped under a gas truck, but I can't publish it for legal reasons.
Sigh.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Financial Meltdown... and Subsequent Luncheon.
"There are signs that the economy is on the upswing". At least, that's what I hear from my fortune cookie. It's strange when your food knows more about financial news than you do.
It gave me an idea.
I took my financial adviser out to lunch to discuss my investments and planted messages in his fortune cookie (i.e. "Your customers are going to kill you if you don't pull their money out of AIG and GMC" and the more obvious, "What were you thinking?") He asked me about the messages, but I calmly stated that my fortunes said I will be coming into a large fortune. He then asked why his fortunes appeared to be written in the same ink I just used to sign my credit card receipt. I chuckled and replied that many inks look alike.
He went on to tell me that my "coming into a large fortune" probably won't be happening any time soon. I simply told him that it's already happened. While I was treating him to Panda Express my evil henchmen were robbing his office. "Now if you'll excuse me I must be off," I announced and dramatically pulled my cape around my body. Then I turned into one hundred bats and flew back to my castle in the hills.
Phil 1, Big Business 0.
It gave me an idea.
I took my financial adviser out to lunch to discuss my investments and planted messages in his fortune cookie (i.e. "Your customers are going to kill you if you don't pull their money out of AIG and GMC" and the more obvious, "What were you thinking?") He asked me about the messages, but I calmly stated that my fortunes said I will be coming into a large fortune. He then asked why his fortunes appeared to be written in the same ink I just used to sign my credit card receipt. I chuckled and replied that many inks look alike.
He went on to tell me that my "coming into a large fortune" probably won't be happening any time soon. I simply told him that it's already happened. While I was treating him to Panda Express my evil henchmen were robbing his office. "Now if you'll excuse me I must be off," I announced and dramatically pulled my cape around my body. Then I turned into one hundred bats and flew back to my castle in the hills.
Phil 1, Big Business 0.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Easter Icons: Part 1 in a Series of 1
I already know I'm going to get a lot of hate mail for this one.
I love Easter. I love dinner with family and springtime in Arizona. I love everything about it... except for one thing.
It's a holiday that celebrates resurrection, and we celebrate it with... egg hunts? Rabbits? WTF?
Don't get me wrong. I love Paganism. Fire, fertility, dandelions... it's all great, but we need to update our religious celebrations. How long have we been mixing Pagan and Christian ideas now? A couple thousand years? Christianity needs to move on. They need to ditch the Pagan crutch and embrace pop culture.
From now on, I suggest that we replace rabbits and eggs with an icon that better represents the idea of resurrection. What's the first thing that comes to mind when we think of someone coming back from the dead? That's right. Zombies. And what better way to celebrate zombies than with zombie walks.
You can read about future Easter Day Zombie Walks here at Viva La Revolucion! in the near future. Please send any hate mail to the e mail address listed in my profile.
I love Easter. I love dinner with family and springtime in Arizona. I love everything about it... except for one thing.
It's a holiday that celebrates resurrection, and we celebrate it with... egg hunts? Rabbits? WTF?
Don't get me wrong. I love Paganism. Fire, fertility, dandelions... it's all great, but we need to update our religious celebrations. How long have we been mixing Pagan and Christian ideas now? A couple thousand years? Christianity needs to move on. They need to ditch the Pagan crutch and embrace pop culture.
From now on, I suggest that we replace rabbits and eggs with an icon that better represents the idea of resurrection. What's the first thing that comes to mind when we think of someone coming back from the dead? That's right. Zombies. And what better way to celebrate zombies than with zombie walks.
You can read about future Easter Day Zombie Walks here at Viva La Revolucion! in the near future. Please send any hate mail to the e mail address listed in my profile.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Question of the Week April 9
My question of the week: Why isn't anyone responding to my questions of the week?! If no one starts answering my questions then I'm going to strike by simply writing about absurd things off the top of my head that have absolutely no credibility... wait...
Yorkies and Cannibalism: Both Bad for Children
I’m driving down the road, which I like to do when I transport myself somewhere, and see a little dog with an ugly face in the lap of an old woman driving an Altima. Aside form the potential danger this woman is about to unleash on other drivers, I begin wondering why this woman and other women like her choose to bring their dogs with them on every mundane errand. Then I have my answer. Old women love little dogs because it satisfies their empty nest syndrome. Since their ungrateful kids don’t want to have anything to do with them, they want to have something that still needs and desires affection.
That’s an obvious one. The real question in my head was, “How long have older women been doing this?” I recently set out across Ethiopia to study ancient symbols and cave drawings, and I was shocked by my archaeological findings. I was asked if I’d like a guide or a translator to accompany me, but as we all know I’m an expert in ancient script.
As it turns out, women have not always kept small dogs after their family has moved out of the village. As a matter of fact, it had been tradition (all the way up until the 1950s) after the family has moved away for the mother to actually capture and cannibalize the children of a neighboring family. It was believed that she would absorb their souls and therefore always be “full of the love and fear of the innocent”. This is according to Sumerian text.
One more mystery of the world has been solved. You can all relax just a little bit more.
That’s an obvious one. The real question in my head was, “How long have older women been doing this?” I recently set out across Ethiopia to study ancient symbols and cave drawings, and I was shocked by my archaeological findings. I was asked if I’d like a guide or a translator to accompany me, but as we all know I’m an expert in ancient script.
As it turns out, women have not always kept small dogs after their family has moved out of the village. As a matter of fact, it had been tradition (all the way up until the 1950s) after the family has moved away for the mother to actually capture and cannibalize the children of a neighboring family. It was believed that she would absorb their souls and therefore always be “full of the love and fear of the innocent”. This is according to Sumerian text.
One more mystery of the world has been solved. You can all relax just a little bit more.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Men: Not Unlike Velociraptors
Today’s inspiring tale comes from an experience I had this morning with a coworker (as usual).
“I hate men,” Cordelia (name changed to protect my career) mumbled as she passed me this morning. Then I did what I normally do when I need to ponder a comment or question: I sat on the toilet for a few minutes.
The Revelation According to The Post Apocalyptic Cowboy as described to Cordelia:
It’s not that most men are scoundrels… we’re all scoundrels (potentially). Men are hunters. Men are warriors. That is, we used to be these things. In today’s world we’ve become Abercrombie and Fitch wearing pansies. What happened to us?
Because of this sudden (in the eye of time) transition to a comparatively mundane existence, our chemicals are going nuts. We’re supposed to be routinely strategizing and killing things with our bare hands.
Men like sports because we all want to be beating someone to death on a battlefield.
Ladies, when we become combative when we’re asked to do something trivial like take out the trash it’s because, in reality, we know we should be wrestling an elk to the ground. We should be plundering a village. We should be creating and destroying empires. Alas, we are separating recyclables.
It’s not that we don’t want to confess these feelings and be held in your caring arms. We’d just rather be held in the cold arms of death in a wintery field and clutching our intestines that have recently been spilled by an enemy’s swift attack. It’s just not the same. You understand.
“I hate men,” Cordelia (name changed to protect my career) mumbled as she passed me this morning. Then I did what I normally do when I need to ponder a comment or question: I sat on the toilet for a few minutes.
The Revelation According to The Post Apocalyptic Cowboy as described to Cordelia:
It’s not that most men are scoundrels… we’re all scoundrels (potentially). Men are hunters. Men are warriors. That is, we used to be these things. In today’s world we’ve become Abercrombie and Fitch wearing pansies. What happened to us?
Because of this sudden (in the eye of time) transition to a comparatively mundane existence, our chemicals are going nuts. We’re supposed to be routinely strategizing and killing things with our bare hands.
Men like sports because we all want to be beating someone to death on a battlefield.
Ladies, when we become combative when we’re asked to do something trivial like take out the trash it’s because, in reality, we know we should be wrestling an elk to the ground. We should be plundering a village. We should be creating and destroying empires. Alas, we are separating recyclables.
It’s not that we don’t want to confess these feelings and be held in your caring arms. We’d just rather be held in the cold arms of death in a wintery field and clutching our intestines that have recently been spilled by an enemy’s swift attack. It’s just not the same. You understand.
Monday, March 30, 2009
I'm not gay... but my alternate personality is.
If I were gay, the prospect of wearing tights, a cape, and a mask every night would be an enticing one.
This is why I don't understand why there aren't more gay superheroes.
I think this world is ready for a gay vigilante.
My question of the week is: If you were a gay comic book hero, what would your name be and who would be your arch nemesis?
This is why I don't understand why there aren't more gay superheroes.
I think this world is ready for a gay vigilante.
My question of the week is: If you were a gay comic book hero, what would your name be and who would be your arch nemesis?
Friday, March 27, 2009
Think for Yourself? What were you Thinking?
I'm done with work.
I don't mean I'm off and going home.
I mean I've realized that working is pointless.
"Woah there, buddy," you say. "You can't just quit! Think about your bills! Think about your cats! Think about FICA!!!"
Oh... I have.
It dawned on me recently that we only need jobs for two reasons: (a) We're too lazy to grow and make our own products, and (b) there are a startling number of businesses out there profiting on that idea by offering us what we think we can't live without.
We're no different than trained Sea Monkeys.
Think about it for a moment.
Consider banks. Consider insurance. Consider "Dancing with the Stars."
Now stop considering all of those things because I already have. I'll do your thinking from now on for a mere thirty dollars a month. That's the price of a gym membership! Free up your brain so you can burn more calories. As a matter of fact, brain fat accounts for ninety percent of the total fat in your body! Ninety Percent!
Paypal is accepted through my business's website at www.stopthinkingforyourselfandstartburningbraincalories.org.
Get lean and become a machine.
I don't mean I'm off and going home.
I mean I've realized that working is pointless.
"Woah there, buddy," you say. "You can't just quit! Think about your bills! Think about your cats! Think about FICA!!!"
Oh... I have.
It dawned on me recently that we only need jobs for two reasons: (a) We're too lazy to grow and make our own products, and (b) there are a startling number of businesses out there profiting on that idea by offering us what we think we can't live without.
We're no different than trained Sea Monkeys.
Think about it for a moment.
Consider banks. Consider insurance. Consider "Dancing with the Stars."
Now stop considering all of those things because I already have. I'll do your thinking from now on for a mere thirty dollars a month. That's the price of a gym membership! Free up your brain so you can burn more calories. As a matter of fact, brain fat accounts for ninety percent of the total fat in your body! Ninety Percent!
Paypal is accepted through my business's website at www.stopthinkingforyourselfandstartburningbraincalories.org.
Get lean and become a machine.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Speedy Getaway
After leaving work yesterday I accidentally entered the intersection not realizing there wasn't enough room to go all the way through. When my light turned red the rear of my car was partially blocking the left hand turn lane. The man turning, with his window down, yelled "f*cker!", and drove away very quickly.
My first instinct was to yell back. My second instinct was to reverse into his car. My third instinct was to follow him home, get out of my car, and start screaming random biblical references about the end of the world while I seized and drooled violently on his front lawn.
After I ran different scenarios through my head and laughed childishly, I had an epiphany:
When people are gridlocked in traffic and you're driving the other way, you can pretty much say or do anything you want without fear of repercussion.
So here's what I did:
Today was a hot day, and people had their windows down. I made seven hundred copies of my band's CD, and then I tossed them into car windows as I drove by and shouted "The answer to mediocrity has arrived!". This was the best idea I'd ever had.
Unfortunately, when I got home I realized that I hadn't downloaded any of my music to those CDs. Instead, I had accidentally burned pages and pages of Communist propaganda onto those discs.
My first instinct was to yell back. My second instinct was to reverse into his car. My third instinct was to follow him home, get out of my car, and start screaming random biblical references about the end of the world while I seized and drooled violently on his front lawn.
After I ran different scenarios through my head and laughed childishly, I had an epiphany:
When people are gridlocked in traffic and you're driving the other way, you can pretty much say or do anything you want without fear of repercussion.
So here's what I did:
Today was a hot day, and people had their windows down. I made seven hundred copies of my band's CD, and then I tossed them into car windows as I drove by and shouted "The answer to mediocrity has arrived!". This was the best idea I'd ever had.
Unfortunately, when I got home I realized that I hadn't downloaded any of my music to those CDs. Instead, I had accidentally burned pages and pages of Communist propaganda onto those discs.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Question of the week March 24
Let's start something new so that I'll actually write and check blogs more often since the story thing isn't working out so well. I still want to do it, but time prevents me from staying regular (in writing, not my bowels).
Question of the week:
If you could choose one band to write a soundtrack to your life who would it be and why?
Hook a brother up with an answer! Then I'll post my answer next week :)
Question of the week:
If you could choose one band to write a soundtrack to your life who would it be and why?
Hook a brother up with an answer! Then I'll post my answer next week :)
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