Videos

I posted both videos below over 2 weeks ago. And they finally show up now. Youtube's posting feature was either broken or just sucks. But I'm glad the videos showed up finally.

Real men use soap and water.

I know I haven't posted in a couple months, which in blog time is about 30 million years, and probably no one will read this, but while I'm stranded on Cube Island, a.k.a. at work, I thought I would further pollute the future history of mankind with my ramblings.

The washroom at my work, a.k.a. the john, head, water closet, bathroom, restroom, little/big boy's/girl's/men's/women's room, privy, latrine, lavatory, garderobe, the land of #1 and #2, squat and dump, crapperville, the two holer, or whatever you call it, is pretty typical. Three urinals, three stalls, three sinks, two soap dispensers, two towel dispensers, two trash cans, one mirror. White tile with a red, blue, or yellow one thrown in for effect, or because the tile setter had some extras and wanted to get rid of them.

Anyway, like I said, there are three urinals. Everyday when I have to relieve myself I visit the one and only men's room in the building. And everyday I cringe. Two of the urinals are set so high that you either have to be Sasquatch, pee through your chest, or leave a pressed ham on the ceramic. That leaves number three, and the stalls, but stalls don't leave you hanging out there for all the world to see and so aren't considered manly.

Urinal three, is lower to the ground. Some might think this is to accommodate any younglings that might happen by, but really it's the plumbers ode to gravity.

See, at least on this planet, things fall to the ground, so a urinal that is placed below chest height is still usable by, Sasquatch or any other abnormally tall people, and everyone else, but it's The Guild of Architects For the Confusion of Humanity, that make the plans. And in recent years a decree was passed to make all urinals chest high to increase the world's net stock in confusion.

But, a secret clause was added by the Plumbers Guild For Things That Make Sense, called the Wee Ones Need To Pee. And so there is always one lower urinal, masquerading as a child's waste disposal unit. (How you can tell it's not truly intended for children is because it's the same size as the "adult" ones.) (And not in kid friendly colors.) (And not shaped like Barney's head.) (Of course peeing in Barney's mouth would be fun, but that would add to confusion, and we don't want kids thinking they should pee in your friend's mouth when your friend is just trying to talk.) (And I know he loves you, and you love him, but should Barney still be your friend at your age?)

Okay, I've gotten a little sidetracked, so back to business a.k.a. doing the business.

Piss. Everyone's got it, and needs to get rid of it.

So, everyday I go to the W.C. and before I walk around the "privacy" wall, I hope that little ol' number three is ready for a fill up. And everyday I'm confronted by The Well of Yellow Brown Despair.

Someone in my building has not mastered the art of the flush. And I know it's the same person, because The Well is filled to the brim with the darkest piss you've ever seen. I mean, this guy must be simmering a side of beef in his bladder to get it that dark. Mechanics washing up at the end of the day would have to throw in an extra can of grease to get it that dark. It's so dark, it moonlights as the source for Darth Vader's evil power.

I have two choices, cozy up to the cold nasty ceramic of doom, or flush for the incompetent. I have a problem with flushing for him though. First of all the principle of the thing, and second, once you pull that lever whatever's in The Well is going to splash all over. And then I have to touch myself with whatever nasties were lurking there, so that I can finish my own business.

So, what I end up doing is a quick Flush 'N' Run, followed up with a hand washing and then I go and use good 'ol number three. But while I'm doing this I have time to think.

Did even the remedial school for flushing give up on him? Did a gangster cut off his flushing finger? Was he short on cash and the part of his brain that tells normal folk to clean up after themselves auctioned off at The Fair of Medical Mystery? Was he in a horrible eating contest accident and didn't stop until he realized he had eaten both his left and right arms?

Or he is one of those deluded souls who think, "I showered, that means I'm clean down thar! If I don't flush, no washing for me!". SOAP BOX ALERT(No you're not clean down there, even after you shower. And if you don't know why, use this thing called the Internet and go find out.) (An old article by the Straight Dope is particularly enlightening, if it still exists.) END ALERT

So, I decided that if I ever get to do one of those "The More You Know" bits, or any other public service announcement, I'm going to campaign for flushing. My catch phrase will be, "Just flush and wash". Unless you're one of those aliens that drink sour milk, soap and water won't kill you.

Be a man, pull the lever and wash your hands. And stop providing the source for Darth Vader's evil.

P.S. (If the maker of The Well of Yellow Brown Despair reads this, go drink some water. With piss that dark you're going to be putting in for a kidney transplant in 1 to 2 years.)

America is Insane

This whole Don Imus thing has got me thinking. Personally I don't listen to any shock jocks because I think they are all dumb and coat your mind with sludge. (I get enough sludge in other places, I don't have to willingly ask for more.)

But the above sentence is exactly my point. First of all, he is a shock jock. No where in that title does it say paragon of uprightness and champion of morality. His job is to say and be controversial. If you don't like his irreverence, intolerance, lambasting and joking, then don't listen to him.

All the people who are pretending to be shocked (duh!) by his comments need to get off their self-built boxes of righteousness and be honest with themselves. I bet there is not a single person in the United States who has not said, thought, or laughed at a racist or pseudo quasi racist comment. And those who say otherwise are lying to themselves or are too stupid to realize what the definition of racism is.

And to have Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson be the champions of this so called cause makes me roll in the street with laughter. Not only have they both been known to and been caught saying racist comments but they both have the audacity to continue to call themselves Reverends and yet they don't follow what they preach. It says in the Bible that God will forgive whom he will but of us it is required to forgive everyone.

It did not say, only forgive those people who you are okay with forgiving but if they do something that is really bad or you don't like then it's okay to not forgive them. If you believe in the Bible you must forgive everyone, period. There is no leeway. There is no other interpretation.

The people of the United States have forgotten how to be compassionate, how to forgive, and how to let things go. Our country was based on the idea of free speech. But now we have fallen into the trap of Animal Farm. Everyone has free speech, but some people have more free speech than others.

You can't have it both ways. Either speech is free or it is not.

Pests

I'm not a person who likes to have everyone into my personal life. So I really hate it when you have to work with certain people who think it is their life's mission to ferret out every last iota of information about you.

There are three people at work who constantly pester me about any and everything I do like they are the Brady police or something, and to make it worse I've never actually introduced myself to them. We have to have these stupid name tags at work on our desk and since my name is set up in lights for everyone to see they all think that they know me or something.

The other day a woman who sits next to me sneezed, and one of these pests asks to my back; "You got the bug or is it just allergies?" (She does not have a hillbilly accent but her grammar makes you imagine it anyway.)

So I sit there in silence, my back to her, hoping a miracle will happen and she will get a clue that it wasn't me who sneezed, but after about 20 seconds of uncomfortable silence, in which I can feel the laser light of her eye-beams drilling into the back of my skull, I turn my head and say to her.

"Who are you talking to?"

"You." The pest says.

"It wasn't me who sneezed." I say.

"Oh ."

By this point the lady who sneezed breaks in and starts laughing and everyone is happy as a clam about everything except me. So I grumble and go back to working.

First of all I don't know this pest, I don't want to know her, and just because we sit in the same area of work doesn't mean we have to become friends in the mutual admiration society. I go to work to make money, not make friends, especially with people who are always prying into my business.

And if it had been me who sneezed what business of hers is it anyway?

And third, if we have not been introduced do not use my name like you know me. I hate when people use my name all the time like it brings us closer together or something. If you use my name without an introduction, trust me it does the exact opposite of building a relationship.

And fourth, take a hint. If I don't ask about how you are doing and try to pry my nose under your covers to see what makes you tick, what makes you think I want you to do that to me?

Let's just sit in anonymity and do our job and go home. Is that too much to ask?

Fire Can Not Melt Steel

And with that comment Rosie O'Donnell proves that she is the stupidest person on Earth. I didn't see her make this comment on The View, but if the audience hadn't been prescreened for brain dead zombies, I would fully expect them all to get up and walk out.

Seriously, does she even know how steel is made? You have to melt it with fire in the first place, then you form it into the desired shape. Apparently she's never been to a medieval festival, though she clearly would fit right in as a harridan, where blacksmiths heat steel in fire to soften it, a.k.a. melt it slightly, so it is softer and will bend under the pressure of the hammer.

If after this comment people still give her any kind of credit, they are as stupid as she is and need to be all put in a bag and drowned.

Here's a news flash Rosie, ANYTHING that gets hot enough can melt. Have you ever heard of the Sun? It's a big fire ball where every element in the universe is melted. Or did you just think that there was a giant million watt light bulb floating in the sky that warmed the Earth? And by the way the Earth isn't flat either.

The Baby Store

There are two things that I don't understand. I don't understand why people, usually women, steal newborns from hospitals, and why some pregnant women secretly give birth and then throw their baby away.

There must be something mentally wrong in their head. Maybe one is desperate for a baby and the other is desperate to get rid of a baby.

Maybe someone should start a website where these two groups can get together.

There will be advertisements saying:

"Do you have strange thoughts about going into a hospital and stealing someone else's baby? Don't do that! Come to the baby store! Where we have babies galore!"

And on the other side of the coin:

"Have you just realized that you are going to have a baby? Don't leave it on the side of the road. Call the baby store! We'll take care of it, and no one will know."

Hollywood Clichès Round Three

I have a theory that every decade there is one movie clichè that defines that movie as from that era. I have noticed several contenders for this decade, like cup dropping, but I think I've hit upon the right one.

This will go down as the era of teeth brushing. Every single movie and show these days has somebody brushing their teeth at some point in it. It's almost as if the Dentist Mafia (the military arm of the American Dental Association), has threatened studio heads to put a scene in every movie or at least one episode of a series, with someone showing proper dental hygiene or else.

I can imagine how this went down. In a secret meeting between the ADA, Crest, Oral B, and Colgate, a crisis has occurred. Maybe profits were down, or maybe plaque was up, it doesn't matter but whatever the crisis, action was decided upon. If people see more people brushing teeth more people will be influenced to do it, (some parts of the American south and the U.K. seem to be exempt, maybe as a testing ground for tooth related diseases or just something to scare the kids with).

A dental conference for Hollywood dentists was called (in Las Vegas, of course). They were given special training and sent back like a spider on its web to wait for the sounds of toothache. Once a studio head came in for a checkup the dentists training took over.

"I really think you should show more people brushing their teeth. And not because I'm a dentist, I think people really want to watch people scrub the crap off their teeth and pay money for it too." Dentist says.

"Why on Earth would anyone want to see that?" Studio head mumbles around dental instrument lodged in mouth.

"Because if you don't, I drill without the Novocaine!" Dentist laughs.

The next time your at the dentist be careful, who knows what they might force you to do.

The Man: Continued

This sign sums up what the corporate motto should be. Now if only we could all be as mindless as these upstanding workers. Imagine the bliss that would prevail in all of serfdom.

(via Can't Get Enough Futurama)

The Man

The corporate world is designed to make you fail.

I believe that the more people know and learn, no matter what their area of interest, the better off the world is.

I wonder how many great ideas, inventions or breakthroughs have been ruined when someone is sitting at work and just barely gets an inkling of something great and then someone interrupts and slams a folder down, drops off a memo, rings the phone, or sends an email?

It's impossible to retrieve these ideas once lost since they were just being uncovered by the archaeologist of the mind when a dust storm arrives to bury it forever.

But I think a bigger tragedy occurs when the idea never sees the light of day, suppressed by the fear that the idea will be stolen by management and even if the idea is implemented there never is a reward equal to the contribution.

A corporation is designed to be run by very few men. These men want to run their own little empire and keep their thumbs on the serfs. And because of this, ideas and free flowing thoughts are discouraged unless they fit in the already outlined plan.

Corporate culture believes that everything takes a certain amount of time to happen. A person must have so much experience in this department, or must have been doing such and such for so many years before they can "move up". Which is totally contradictory to the way people learn.

Some people learn quicker than others, so for some a few months in a certain area is enough for them to learn the skills. While others might take years. But the fear that someone will "take" your job persists and keeps humanity from moving farther and faster than it could.

I believe that the internet is a precursor to a better society. The internet gives the everyday man the ability to make his voice heard, to change things, and to bypass the controlling grip of the few at the top who are happy with their empires. I believe that we could be headed toward a custom society where the individual can be master of his own life and use their natural skills to better humanity.

It's amazing what people can do when they can think and pursue ideas that would have been shot down by a corporate middle manager. For example Burt Rutan chief designer of Scaled Composites, he wanted to make planes and even space ships that had no bearing on traditional ideas of what and how these should perform and look. By going it alone without the corporate umbrella he has broken records, invented dozens of new plane designs, and has the credit of putting the first non-governmental supported man into orbit.

As long as the corporate culture exists in its current form, the failure rate for humanity's greatness will continue at its high level.

Nerds Strike Again

In my last post I mentioned The Spiritual Age of Machines by Ray Kurzweil, which I have now given up on. This is only the second of many thousands of books I've read (I stopped counting at 6,000) that I won't finish. (The other one was about magic cats, yes I said magic cats.)

Now maybe I'm just in the wrong mood to finish it, but his nerdiness knows no bounds. He wants everyone to think that he is smart but then he talks down to his readers. He takes three paragraphs to explain what DNA is. If you didn't learn about DNA in ninth grade biology then turn on the TV, almost every show has it in there somewhere.

He takes literally chapters to explain a simple concept that could be condensed to a few paragraphs. I haven't seen this much padding since girls bras in middle school.

And then to add insult to injury he makes up this really stupid idea of having a fake conversation with a so called reader. Later on you can tell he thinks it's stupid too since he breaks down and gives this fantasy reader a name, Molly, but he's in too deep and beats it to a bloody stump all the way to the end. (It's probably some girl he fantasized about in high school.)

Like most nerds, he thinks this makes it easier to understand, but all it does is get in the way. And then he attempts nerd humor in the conversation. Like this "gem":

"The subjective experience, however, is the experience of the process itself, assuming, of course, that the process is conscious. Which in your case, it is. At least, I assume that's the case."

Hardy Har Har!

They should make a monument to this guy as the king of the nerds.

Only Nerds Like Sidebars

Lately I have been forced to be around someone who set off my Nerd'o'Meter, and I've tried to examine what makes them nerdy. Now this might sound a little nerdy itself and I agree to an extent, but as the saying goes it takes one to know one.

I believe that I occupy an unusual, if not unique position, between nerds and non-nerds. I'm just nerdy enough to want to understand nerds and not so much a nerd that I can't see what's nerdy.

When most people think of nerds they usually come up with someone wearing large rimmed glasses, button up shirts, and pulled up pants. But these are just surface details that can be changed, you can take the nerd out of the bad clothes but you can't take the nerd out of the nerd.

For the record I like this person as a person, but I can't get past the fact that he's a nerd. Basically being around him has brought together my thoughts as to what makes a nerd.

A. Nerds have a passion about one or more subjects.

B. Nerds have a desire to share this passion with others.

C. Nerds have a tendency to talk about these subjects regardless if anyone else wants to hear it.

D. Nerds overlook or don't notice social clues that tell them when to shut up.

E. Nerds want to unload everything they've ever learned about a subject in one sitting.

If you combine all of this you basically get a nerd. Nerds are unaware of the way the come off socially and then don't understand why people don't like them. They often think that to be liked more they need to learn more about various subjects, not realizing it is the package people don't like not the product.

You could have the worlds juiciest hamburger in pristine condition but if you tried to serve it sitting on a rusty garbage can lid smeared with old trash, no one is going to eat it.

And it's the same thing with books. While thinking about nerds, I am reading The Spiritual Age of Machines by Ray Kurzweil,and while I want to read what he is saying and understand he's a smart guy, he comes off sounding like a nerd.

Advice to writers, or anyone else in a information giving arena. If there are two ways to say the same thing, always use the simpler of the two. You will reach a wider audience, and have greater understanding. (And not sound like a nerd.)

If you are writing a book so everyone will know that you are a smart person, first, you are writing for the wrong reason. And second, the very fact that you are writing about that subject already tells them that you think you are a smart person.

And finally please, please don't use sidebars. If you feel that the information in a sidebar is important, put it in the body of the text. And if it isn't important enough to put it in the main body, then don't put it in the book. Sidebars are a form of a nerd trying to tell everything they have ever learned in one sitting.

And if for some irrational reason you really need to have a sidebar, make it an end-bar. Put the information at the end of the chapter where it won't interrupt reading or thought flow. And if even that is too hard to follow, label it as "information that isn't really important so skip it unless you really want to read it" or "come back to this later since it is only remotely connected to what I'm trying to tell you in the main part."

Sick + Hollywood Clichès: Round Two

I've been sick for the past three days with the worst cold I've had in five years. Between sneezing, coughing, fevers, and an on again/off again nose, I haven't been able to think or do much of anything. Mostly I've watched a lot of television.

I'm really sick of television right now. So now I have two illnesses.

But I have managed to ferret out two more Hollywood clichès.

They both involve couples arguing. In the first version, and most often used, a couple are fighting and all of a sudden the phone rings. How many times in real life does this actually happen? I admit that I rarely argue, so maybe other people think this is common, but I think it's trite and an obvious device to create some sort of tension. I'm actually amazed that people still fall for it. Personally the only tension I feel is from annoyance.

The other clichè involves the same situation except instead of a phone ringing, a child walks in out of the blue, usually with a completely crestfallen expression. First of all, if the parents argue all the time the child by this point will be used to it and have less of an emotional impact. And second, why does the child always seem to wait, like Captain Jack Sparrow, for the opportune moment to interrupt? Could it be that the writers are hacks and can't think of anything else to get on with the show?

Being sick has tuned me in to the overwhelming monotony of television. In the past you used to run across an interesting show once in a while. But it looks like today's fodder is all about crap wrapped in a pretty bow with no new ideas on the horizon.

Man-aze sounds icky

Yay! It's 2007! And since tradition holds that everyone make a New Year's resolution, I have a resolution for everyone!

Stop the hillbillyization of the English language.

While I know that I'm not the paragon of correct pronunciation, I at least make an attempt at it. I'm not trying to lambaste one region of the world over another, since everyone is allowed to have their local dialect, but you would think that a dictionary would stick to their guns.

At a New Year's party my friends and I were talking about pet peeves. We started talking about colloquialisms, how people would say things in our area and things we've overheard. This eventually led to someone getting on the computer and looking words up.

I was amazed that Merriam-Webster's dictionary, had kowtowed to the majority and started putting in pronunciations like, worsh for wash, man-aze for mayonnaise, and ag for egg.

Making this sentence a possibility (at least phonetically.)

I'm going to worsh me an ag far the man-aze.

This brings me to the next words on the hit list:
formiliar for familiar
ohl for oil
and
pellow for pillow.

But there is some hope out there. Dictionary.com, has not bowed beneath the lead weight of apathy.

So everyone's resolution is simple, learn to pronounce one word correctly. I suggest mayonnaise. They put those letters in there for a reason.

You're on fire but the phone rings. What do you do?

Telephone usage is the biggest proof that people are stupid.

In my life I've worked in a call center or two, and I was constantly amazed at the stupidity that so called intelligent people exhibit. Putting feelings about telemarketing aside, when I would call people I was often incredulous that people would answer the phone in certain situations.

First off, there is the classic "I'm eating dinner" excuse. I myself am annoyed when people call while I'm eating. But I came up with a simple solution. I don't answer the phone.

I've called people who were having sex. If you're answering the phone at this moment, maybe you should be doing something more exciting, like knitting. The solution, let it ring.

I've called people who say they are sick and on the verge of throwing up. If you're nauseous, I can guarantee it isn't Ed McMahon with a big check nor Oprah giving you a new car. Feel free to bow before the porcelain throne and get plenty of rest.

I admit that some of the the above are probably lies, but one situation I don't understand, and heard too often to think was fake.

When I would call people, and after a minute of talking, I would hear children in the tub in the background. I would start to wonder where the person I was talking to had been while we were speaking. I couldn't hear the children at first, so I'm guessing they went to another room to answer the phone.

Roughly 100 people a day die from drowning in bathtubs, mostly children and the elderly. That's more people than die from gunshots. Trust me, there is no phone call on Earth important enough for you to risk your children's lives.

But if you still feel anxious when the phone rings that it might be a call from Brad Pitt saying he's leaving Angelina for you, or vice versa. I have a solution. Technology. They have these little boxes called answering machines that will take the call for you when you can't.

If that's too fancy, they have a service called Caller ID that will tell you who is calling and keep a list of who called for future reference. And here's the secret, you only have to call back the people you know!

And if no one told you, it's your phone. You are not required to answer it just because someone got a bee in their bonnet to call you. And just in case it is a real emergency, have you ever known anyone to not call back?

Hollywood Clichès: Round One

Hollywood is an inbred idea factory. It's like a group of people standing around in a big metal room shouting so called original ideas that they heard echoing off the walls, until at some point they are all shouting the same thing.

In movies, TV shows, or whatever, there is always someone who ends up receiving shocking news. And that person usually has something in their hands and drops it. Now for the non-thinking person this seem logical but the natural reflex of the hand is to clench not let go.

A doctor, to check finger reflexes, will have a person hold out their hand with their fingers straight up. Then he will grasp their hand by putting his fingers over the top of theirs, and then strike the hand with a reflex hammer causing the fingers to curl in towards the palm slightly.

Also in the complete mindless state of death, hands want to curl up with rigor mortis not extend, or there would be no such thing as a death grip.

So a person in a shocked, a.k.a mindless state, would actually grasp tighter not let go. Letting go is a conscious act. Proving that not only does Hollywood use clichès, but uses stupid ones at that.

Creepers are Weiners

(This entry may offend some. If you're the sensative type, skip this entry. If you read it anyway, no whining.)

When you're driving and stopping at a stop light there are always creepers. Those people who stop 20 feet away from the line or the person in front of them and then as the light continues to be red they slowly creep forward and stop. Then creep some more and stop.

This absolutely drives me nuts. So, to amuse myself when a creeper is near I have come up with a multipart theory.

A. Creepers were never taught how to stop at the desired location.

B. Creepers are too stupid to learn this skill.

C. Creepers think that by creeping forward the light will actually take less time therefore defying all logic.

or,

D. Creepers are weiners. (No, I do not mean the ones weinerschniztle sells.)

I am hopeful that most creepers fall under category A, but I have my doubts about this since they see people who don't creep around them, and if they had a desire to learn they would do so.

B, in a fit of frustration I might think that this is true, but I have hope that people aren't really this dumb.

C, for creepers in this class, all I have to say is: Creeping has never, and will never make the light go faster. Just because you're creeping at the time the light changes does not mean the light changed because of you. It is simply the law of averages. If you scratched your butt at the light, eventually the light will change, but not because you scratched your butt.

D, Creepers are weiners who creep and look in their rear view mirror because they have a juvenile sense of humor (a.k.a. brain damage from sniffing glue) and think it is funny to watch people behind them also creep forward.

I say boycott creeping. If you are behind a creeper, you have my sympathy, but I do suggest a solution. Just don't do it. There is no law that says because the person in front of you creeps, that you have to follow.

And that grand canyon sized gap growing between your car and theirs, is usually less than 20 feet. When you press the gas pedal it will take only one second to cover that distance. Don't become a victim of a creeper.