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.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
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!!!
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