Ladies and Gentlemen, I apologize for my absence yesterday. I had to work, and following the news of the Nazi zombie attack on Austin, I felt the need to prepare. Yesterday, I gathered several of my closest friends and ran tactical simulations for defense against zombies, particularly building and holding a tactical perimeter. What I've learned is that cars make pretty good makeshift barricades against zombies. They aren't so good at climbing over things and they can't open the doors to crawl through. I also learned that it doesn't matter how cool you are or how useful you may be as a defensive sniper, jumping from rooftop to rooftop is very bad idea. In other words, if you must snipe from the rooftops, find a good roof and stay on it. You are not an action hero. You will fall and knock yourself unconscious and be eaten by zombies. You're going to want to stage your cars early, for quick and easy access. Bring a couple extras just in case. It's no good making a barricade of cars of you have a two foot gap. Yes, it will bottleneck them, but still, it's only a matter of time before your gun jams, and then the zombies will start pouring through. If it's a big area, you're going to want at least 15 people, ten to move cars and other barricade materials, and at least five people to defend them.
I also helped bake a tasty cake yesterday.
I would also like to share with you an important fact. Birds hate airplanes. How often in the news lately have we seen planes crash or planes grounded because of birds? (aside from the Hudson River landing, because we know what that was really about.) The fact of the matter is that birds are jealous. They don't have a monopoly on air travel anymore and it's driving them nuts. So crazy, in fact, that many are committing suicide by flying into airplane windows and jet intakes just to take man out of the sky. Driven by the kamikaze spirit, these birds will do anything to keep their sky kingdom free of human invaders. I must assume that this recent rash of anti-human activity stems from some regime change. The previous, more peaceful ruler of the birds must have died and was replaced by a more radical and militant monarch. I say, those of you who have birds as pets, find out what they know. Get them talking. I hear it's easiest with parrots.
You have been informed.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Thursday, January 29, 2009
They're coming.
Ladies and Gentlemen, the zombies are coming. Or at least, they were in Texas over the weekend. Two electronic road signs were modified to display the messages, "Caution! Zombies Ahead! Run for Cold Climates! The End is Near!" and "Nazi Zombies Ahead! Run!"
Austin police call it a prank, but I am not amused. We all know that the zombie plague is coming. Clearly, there was an outbreak. There were zombies, Nazi zombies at that, and some upright citizen decided to warn the population. But no, the government with its coverups decided that just because the immediate zombie threat was neutralized by their clandestine zombie-killing squads, people should be kept in the dark. Rather than tell us the truth of the looming apocalypse so that we may better prepare ourselves, they've called it a prank so that we'll be docile and won't rush out to get guns and supplies and more importantly, question how they allowed an outbreak in the first place. Unfortunately, if they keep leading us into a false sense of security, we'll all be grossly unable to deal with the impending zombie menace. Most of us will die, and the rest of us will have to struggle for survival with no food but what we grow in those dangerous zombie-infested open fields.
I think we should all take a moment to thank those citizens of Austin whose dedication to truth, especially warning us about the truth of the coming zombie apocalypse, reminds us to stay on our toes. The end is near.
You have been informed.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Lupus: Rarest of All Diseases
Ladies and Gentlemen, House, M.D. only deals with the tough cases, it seems. Every week, someone in his city seems to catch some extremely rare disease that only affects one in a million people. Still, it seems no matter how rare a disease he may encounter, there is one disease that never seems to strike. I'm talking about lupus.
If so many rare diseases strike such a small geographical area, surely lupus should strike someone at some point. But it doesn't. Every week, the diseases get rarer and rarer. And yet, lupus, which allegedly affects 1 in 187 Americans, never seems to show up. It seems like a statistical impossibility. Clearly, the lupus people must be exaggerating how widespread the autoimmune disease is for their own evil purposes. It's not like the show House would only feature super rare diseases for ratings and drama. I mean, the show has a medical advisor and everything. That must make it an accurate depiction of medicine. These "super rare" diseases are actually common, but don't have the funding to have their own awareness--and thus fund--raising organizations. But lupus researchers are loaded, which allows them to grossly overestimate the number of people suffering from the disease. How else could you realistically explain the prevalence of super rare diseases on House without having to deal with lupus>
I would like to point out that, yes, I am aware that in Season 4, Episode 8 the disease was, in fact, lupus. In theory that seems to contradict what I just said. But let's look at the facts, shall we> When encountering any disease, someone proposes the disease may be lupus, which allegedly affects, as previously stated, 1 in 187 Americans. House always disregards lupus immediately as though it were something that most doctors will never encounter in their entire lifetime. Instead, he proposes that the victim must suffer from some disease that medical textbooks tell us most doctors will never encounter in their entire lifetime. And you know what> Every week he's right. It's always the disease that, statistically, he should never encounter. As previously stated, the show House has medical consultants. Named David Foster and Harley Liker. So that means the show must be accurate. Therefore, the statistics must be wrong. Lupus must be super rare and these "super rare" diseases are common.
I say to you, lupus, stop stealing the spotlight. No one really has you. Instead, we all have kuru and vasculitis.
You have been informed.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
10 Unknown Facts About Stephen Colbert
Ladies and Gentlemen, Stephen Colbert is not only the voice of our nation, or at least, the much more witty voice of our angry upper middle class republicans, he's also an avid supporter of Dungeons and Dragons and other awesome hobbies. Here's a few things you may not know about him.
10 Unknown Facts About Stephen Colbert:
- Stephen Colbert's distrust of bears comes from a childhood slight by Yogi Bear, who gave young Stephen abandonment issues after his cartoon was cancelled. Stephen has never forgiven the ursine species.
- Stephen Colbert is the only American to have fought in every war the U.S. has been involved in. He admits, reluctantly, that for most of these wars, his role was one of "historic reenactor."
- Stephen Colbert invented Truth, thus allowing improv pioneer Del Close to write his book Truth in Comedy.
- Stephen Colbert's Colbert Nation is a real nation landlocked in South Carolina. He was elected president for life with an astounding 97% landslide.
- Stephen Colbert actually has amazing super telescopic vision. He wears glasses to counteract this so he doesn't constantly get an eyeful of everyone's pores.
- Stephen Colbert is America. Literally. Like many myths of old, the nation is made from the remains of his body. What we see on television is simply an avatar of his awesomeness. And despite what his book says, so can you not be. Not everyone's body can be a continent.
- Stephen Colbert taught Optimus Prime how to transform into an eighteen wheeler. Yes, that means Stephen Colbert can transform into an eighteen wheeler.
- Stephen Colbert defeated the Tomb of Horrors single-handedly. He told his story to a publisher he met in the bar, asking that it be published as a memoir. Gary Gygax instead published it as an adventure module for 4-6 9th level adventurers.
- Stephen Colbert makes his hamburgers entirely from scratch, including raising the cow (for both cheese and beef) and growing the wheat.
- Stephen Colbert actually lives on Cloud Nine. The hardest part was developing perpetual anti-gravity boosters for the house. That and figuring out exactly which cloud was #9.
You know what> This is my least favorite part of Ten Facts Tuesday. The post-fact glow, where you and your reader experienced something wonderful together, but now that it's over you feel obligated to say something to acknowledge the special moment you just shared, and so you end up talking, saying something stupid, trying sum up what just happened, trying to make conversation in the increasingly awkward situation because you can't just shut up and let you both bask in the afterglow of the experience.
So I'm not going to do it today. Nope, no awkward post-facts talking this week.
You have been informed.
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Monday, January 26, 2009
My Mind has been Flayed!
Ladies and Gentlemen, I had a dozen ideas for things to research, but each and everyone one of them has vanished from my mind. Illithids must have devoured my thoughts and memories today. It'd explain why I was so absent minded. Stupid Mind-Flayers. Why are they coming after me> I'm not nearly high enough level for it to be worth their time. The XP they'd get from me would be paltry indeed. But then, as flayers of minds, perhaps it's my intellect they sought. They wanted my truth, but didn't want to read my blog. So they're lazy. Or they're greedy and they wanted my truth for themselves in a pristine uncirculated format. Hmmm...
I need to go to a tavern and look for four to six adventurers of mid to high level able to take on these beasts and restore my kingdom, erm... memories.
You have been informed.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Safety Sheds in England
Ladies and Gentlemen, recently a boatload of Russian wood began washing up on beaches in Kent, England, much to the delight of those living in the surrounding area. After all, who can resist the lure of free lumber? Nothing strange. I know I would enjoy being suddenly blessed by timber from heaven. Or the sea, as the case may be. What is strange is the sheer number of sheds collectors of this wood say they are going to build. What doe the people of Kent need with so many sheds? The answer lies in a recent decision by the BBC.
A number of British charities, including the Red Cross and Save the Children, have asked the BBC to air an appeal for emergency humanitarian aid in Gaza, but have been denied by the broadcasting company on the grounds of maintaining their impartiality. By charter, the BBC is not supposed to take any action that would imply a bias, and thus they are not allowed to broadcast the plea for aid, says a BBC spokesman. That may be well and good, but why is the BBC really turning down the charitable request? After all, by airing all of those wonderful Save the Children specials in the past (particularly the one with Doctor Who and the Curse of the Fatal Death), they've showed a bias toward sick and impoverished children. Where is their precious impartiality now? We are forced to therefore conclude that there is some other reason why the BBC has chosen to sit this one out. The truth is, it's a matter of survival.
Let's take a closer look at Gaza, shall we? Hamas went into Gaza. They were attacked by Israel. Israel went into Gaza. They got bombed by Hamas. The U.N. built an embassy in Gaza. They were bombed by Israel. Humanitarian workers went into Gaza. They were attacked by everyone. The fact of the matter is, everyone who goes into Gaza is attacked. It is not unreasonable to assume, then, that if the BBC airs the request for charitable aid in Gaza, Hamas and/or Israel will try to shell their production headquarters, which in turn, will require the BBC to retaliate by launching rockets and reruns of Bonekickers. Then the Geneva Convention gets dragged in for crimes against humanity and it all ends poorly for everyone.
What does this have to do with sheds in Kent? These British charities plan to appeal the BBC's decision on Monday to gain permission to air the humanitarian aid special. If the BBC reverses their decision, the U.K. will find itself at risk of mortar bombardment from the Middle East, and from, I mean those in Gaza will probably have to board boats and park off shore of England to express their anger, because seriously, mortar fire won't reach England from Gaza. It'll fall short in Greece, and then one more country gets dragged into it. But back to the original point. The people of Kent are building these sheds to house their own mortar launchers for retaliatory strikes against Gazan aggression, presuming, of course, that militants go all the way around England to the more impractical side for the attack. Plus, if things escalate as things tend to do, they can use these sheds as makeshift wooden hangars for makeshift wooden fighters, because really, who expects a counterstrike from Kent?
As such, I say to you, Mr. BBC news reporter on the video from the beginning of this post, don't look down on your countrymen for not filling out the paperwork. They're looting the sea of its wooden goodness for your safety.
You have been informed.
A number of British charities, including the Red Cross and Save the Children, have asked the BBC to air an appeal for emergency humanitarian aid in Gaza, but have been denied by the broadcasting company on the grounds of maintaining their impartiality. By charter, the BBC is not supposed to take any action that would imply a bias, and thus they are not allowed to broadcast the plea for aid, says a BBC spokesman. That may be well and good, but why is the BBC really turning down the charitable request? After all, by airing all of those wonderful Save the Children specials in the past (particularly the one with Doctor Who and the Curse of the Fatal Death), they've showed a bias toward sick and impoverished children. Where is their precious impartiality now? We are forced to therefore conclude that there is some other reason why the BBC has chosen to sit this one out. The truth is, it's a matter of survival.
Let's take a closer look at Gaza, shall we? Hamas went into Gaza. They were attacked by Israel. Israel went into Gaza. They got bombed by Hamas. The U.N. built an embassy in Gaza. They were bombed by Israel. Humanitarian workers went into Gaza. They were attacked by everyone. The fact of the matter is, everyone who goes into Gaza is attacked. It is not unreasonable to assume, then, that if the BBC airs the request for charitable aid in Gaza, Hamas and/or Israel will try to shell their production headquarters, which in turn, will require the BBC to retaliate by launching rockets and reruns of Bonekickers. Then the Geneva Convention gets dragged in for crimes against humanity and it all ends poorly for everyone.
What does this have to do with sheds in Kent? These British charities plan to appeal the BBC's decision on Monday to gain permission to air the humanitarian aid special. If the BBC reverses their decision, the U.K. will find itself at risk of mortar bombardment from the Middle East, and from, I mean those in Gaza will probably have to board boats and park off shore of England to express their anger, because seriously, mortar fire won't reach England from Gaza. It'll fall short in Greece, and then one more country gets dragged into it. But back to the original point. The people of Kent are building these sheds to house their own mortar launchers for retaliatory strikes against Gazan aggression, presuming, of course, that militants go all the way around England to the more impractical side for the attack. Plus, if things escalate as things tend to do, they can use these sheds as makeshift wooden hangars for makeshift wooden fighters, because really, who expects a counterstrike from Kent?
As such, I say to you, Mr. BBC news reporter on the video from the beginning of this post, don't look down on your countrymen for not filling out the paperwork. They're looting the sea of its wooden goodness for your safety.
You have been informed.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Today I Learn I'm Stupid
Ladies and Gentlemen, I used to think that I had a decent understanding of quality. Today, however, I learned that this cannot be the case. I watched Repo! A Genetic Opera and found it awful. Oh sure, the concept was neat. Financed designer organs being repossessed. It had Anthony Stewart Head of Buffy the Vampire Slayer fame. On top of that, this slasher movie starred Sarah Brightman, which totally makes up for the fact that it also stars Paris Hilton. And seriously, who can resist the lure of a musical slasher movie> So I watched it. And I found the acting terrible, the music and lyrics trite and cliche. The plot, too, was, well, bad. It was, in fact, almost completely worthless as a film, especially knowing it was based on a play.
As I researched this film, however, I learned that I was completely wrong in my judgement. Apparently, this movie is brilliant and is so much better than "all of the 'wannabe' good movies" that Hollywood deems masterpieces. It's crazy how I missed the talent so many other people saw. I thought the lyrics were dull and repetitive and the singing mostly awful (except for Mrs. Brightman, who did the best with what she had), but I must have been mistaken. The songs were clearly "catchy" and the lyrics "deep and beautiful," and I must not have been paying attention well enough. I also missed the part where "Paris Hilton does NOT suck." How did I manage to miss so much quality. I only left the room once for yogurt. Can it be that all of the amazing stuff happened in the forty-five seconds I was out of the room, or perhaps I simply wasn't open enough to the rich subtext of the highly repetitive, uninspired lyrics.
I was not blown away by it, but I can only assume that means that I'm just an "average Joe," one of the "dumb masses" who lacks the mental sophistication to ever "understand something like this," something with "a 'little' more depth" than close-minded people like me can grasp. I guess it's my fault. I must not have been intelligent enough to understand this "gothic MASTERPIECE!" the way the guy on the internet with no concept of appropriate capitalization or run-on sentences did, or I would have enjoyed it, "guarantied."
I apologize for dwelling so heavily on my short-comings today. It's always hard when you find out from the brilliant movie critics of the internet that you're an idiot.
You have been informed.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Street Battles
Ladies and Gentlemen, on the streets, people have to battle for respect. Seriously. I saw it in a movie, so it must be true. Everyone knows, however, that when you want to show people who's the boss, who has the right to rule the streets, you don't use knives, guns, or insults. You don't punch or race. No, nothing demands you be taken seriously like impromptu choreography. That's right, I'm talking about the time honored tradition of the dance-off. The dance-off is one of the oldest forms of competition in the world. And why wouldn't it be> Before mankind discovered tool use, we had no weapons with which to fight each other. But we had arms and legs and voices. And so we danced for superiority. So many dance styles have violent names even. Poppin'. Breakin'. Slam dancing. The Box step, as in boxing. Tango> Sounds a lot like "tangle," which is slang for fighting. Waltz sounds like "Salts," which hurt when poured into wounds. The Charleston> As in, the city where a buddy of mine got beat up once> Dancing is far more violent than war. Why do you think right before fighting, combatants say, "Let's dance>" Because they're trying to psych their opponent out. Like, "I know you thought we were going to fight, but what are you going to do if we dance instead," and the other guy is like, "Oh man, I'm ready to get stabbed and everything, but there's no way I'm physically or psychologically ready for jazz hands." Most intimidating about dance battles is probably that they come without warning. You expect a man with a gun to shoot. What forewarning do you have that a guy is about to break out a funky beat on you> You have no way to know an electric slide is coming. A dance can strike anywhere, anytime. Are you ready for a dance-off right now> Seriously. Right. Now. Look out your door. There could have been a crew there. Would you have been ready> If the guy had a weapon, you simply wouldn't open the door, but there's no stopping a dance-off.
Be prepared. A dancer can strike like a ninja. Without warning. Maybe even without music.
You have been informed.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Buffalo Wings Flying Away?
Ladies and Gentlemen, there is a shortage of buffalo wings in this nation, leading to prices comparatively skyrocketing. Many blame poultry farms going bankrupt, thus lowering supply as the national demand for the food rises ever higher. We at The Truth of the World know different. No, I'm not going to say it's because we're over hunting buffalo. That's stupid. Buffalo don't have wings. No, the real reason we're running out of wings is simple. Hamas has been reworking tunnels in which they once stockpiled weapons. I understand you're wondering how the two can possibly be related. Let's break this down, shall we?
Hamas and Isreal, at least for the time being, have declared a cease-fire. That's right. Isreal agreed to pull all of their troops out of Gaza and Hamas will stop firing rockets into Isreal. Let me say that again with some emphasis added. Hamas will stop firing rockets into Isreal. Hamas has this thing about bombing Isreal. It really likes to. It's one of its only hobbies. That and not providing for its people. But mostly bombing Isreal. However, with this cease-fire, Hamas has run out of things to do. It is bored. And so it's been redigging these old tunnels that were once used to smuggle and stock weapons. What, Isreal has been asking, does Hamas need with these tunnels if they have sworn not to attack?
Chicken racing. Hamas has been buying up chickens left and right to race through these tunnels. Hamas figures that gambling on subterranean chicken races will help its constiuency forget about how miserable things are, espeically when they aren't bombing their neighbors. Further, these chickens will be periodically set loose in the rocket launching faciliities. If a chicken happens to accidentally fire one off, so be it. Hamas didn't launch the explosive ordinance. The chicken did. The cease-fire is still in effect. Further, once the cease-fire does fall apart, they'll be stockpiled with chickens. Hamas said they would no longer fire rockets into Isreal. Thus, to stockpile rockets in preparation for the day the cease-fire ends would be considered an act of hostility and disregard for the armastice. If, however, they stockpile seemingly harmless chickens, no harm no foul, right? No one need ever know that these chickens are being trained to wear explosives and then fly through Gaza to Isreal. People expects rockets to come flying out of the sky, blowing up buildings left and right. No one expects chickens to do that. It's the ultimate stealth weapon that provides your troops with eggs and entertainment while you wait to use it. It's unethical, but it sure is versatile, and every army loves a multi-tasking weapon.
Be on the look out for eggs showing up in unexpected places, Isreal. Poultry suicide bombers are probably close behind.
You have been informed.
Hamas and Isreal, at least for the time being, have declared a cease-fire. That's right. Isreal agreed to pull all of their troops out of Gaza and Hamas will stop firing rockets into Isreal. Let me say that again with some emphasis added. Hamas will stop firing rockets into Isreal. Hamas has this thing about bombing Isreal. It really likes to. It's one of its only hobbies. That and not providing for its people. But mostly bombing Isreal. However, with this cease-fire, Hamas has run out of things to do. It is bored. And so it's been redigging these old tunnels that were once used to smuggle and stock weapons. What, Isreal has been asking, does Hamas need with these tunnels if they have sworn not to attack?
Chicken racing. Hamas has been buying up chickens left and right to race through these tunnels. Hamas figures that gambling on subterranean chicken races will help its constiuency forget about how miserable things are, espeically when they aren't bombing their neighbors. Further, these chickens will be periodically set loose in the rocket launching faciliities. If a chicken happens to accidentally fire one off, so be it. Hamas didn't launch the explosive ordinance. The chicken did. The cease-fire is still in effect. Further, once the cease-fire does fall apart, they'll be stockpiled with chickens. Hamas said they would no longer fire rockets into Isreal. Thus, to stockpile rockets in preparation for the day the cease-fire ends would be considered an act of hostility and disregard for the armastice. If, however, they stockpile seemingly harmless chickens, no harm no foul, right? No one need ever know that these chickens are being trained to wear explosives and then fly through Gaza to Isreal. People expects rockets to come flying out of the sky, blowing up buildings left and right. No one expects chickens to do that. It's the ultimate stealth weapon that provides your troops with eggs and entertainment while you wait to use it. It's unethical, but it sure is versatile, and every army loves a multi-tasking weapon.
Be on the look out for eggs showing up in unexpected places, Isreal. Poultry suicide bombers are probably close behind.
You have been informed.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
10 Unknown Facts About Joe Biden
Ladies and Gentlemen, on this inauguration day for President-Elect-Soon-to-be-President Barack Obama, let us not forget that today another is being sworn in. The world has been a flurry of press coverage surrounding the first African American president of the United States. But what of his ignored running mate Joe Biden> He is, after all, the man who added the experience to the Obama ticket needed to quiet some of the doubts about whether Barack was "ready to lead." Born in Pennsylvania, Biden had the fourth longest senate record at the time of his becoming VP (elect). He's chaired several committees dealing with important civil issues and has a pretty high approval rating from civil liberties and education organizations. Here, however, are some things you may not have known about our oft-overlooked vice president.
10 Unknown Facts about Joe Biden:
- One of Joe Biden's first jobs was as salesman for the Dunder-Mifflin Paper Company. They say his sales record rivaled that of Michael Scott.
- Joe Biden's space ork army can trounce any tyranid army ever fielded.
- Joe Biden can read a ten point font from 100 yards away.
- Joe Biden can tap dance "Flight of the Bumblebee," both rhythmically and melodically.
- Joe Biden personally counted every single person present at the inauguration.
- Even though he has complete confidence in the secret service, Joe Biden surrounds himself with an invisible psychic forcefield at all times.
- Joe Biden knows the question whose answer, 42, the mice paid so much to learn.
- Joe Biden was tempted to sleep in today since probably no one would notice his absence and he stayed up late last night to rewatch the fourth season of Lost before the season premier tomorrow.
- Joe Biden plans to use all of his new found free-time as vice president over the next four years to learn to perform all of those neat magic tricks he used to watch as a kid so that he, as second poorest senator, can have a supplemental second income as a magician so lobbyists don't try to target him with bribes all of the time.
- Joe Biden takes his oath that he will protect America from any and all enemies foreign and domestic very seriously to the point where he is spending what spare income he has to develop super powers. He's hoping for a selection like Superman's or Spiderman's but will take what he can get.
Though you may forget about Mr. Biden today, just remember, he has not forgotten about you. Yes you. Personally. He's got crazy powerful mental abilities.
You have been informed.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Killer Klowns and Robot Dogs
Ladies and Gentlemen, in the late 1980s, a gang of killer clowns came from space and ran amok in a small town. These clowns, or "klowns" as they were called for no good reason beyond alliteration, didn't really speak. Instead, they just made high pitched squeaky noises. Now, twenty years later, robot dogs, allegedly from Japan, make the same noises. These robot dogs are clearly the product of killer klowns. Perhaps they've turned to robotic hounds because their balloon canines were too easily destroyed by the inept locals. Perhaps their popcorn pets were no longer pulling in the cotton candy like they used to. Either way, these positronic pooches are out to kill us all. And they'll get away with it too. After all, the klowns were able to take us by surprise because who expects fun-loving, smiling clowns to be so evil> The same goes for these Japanese automaton puppies. No one expects cute little plastic puppies to go rabid and do anything evil. I mean, come on, they don't even chase after balls unless they're a specific color, except, oh wait. That color is bright pink. The same color as cotton candy, which happens to be what the killer klowns' guns turn people into. So the robot dogs can fetch them.
Beware, then, ladies and gentlemen. These dogs may be cute. They may be adorable. They may play your mp3s. But they fully intend to steal your heart. And probably bury it in the back yard. Until the klowns can get it.
You have been informed.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
More About Vampires
Ladies and Gentlemen, let me tell you what I learned today. It is totally safe for you to fight a pack of big scary werewolves even if you have no supernatural powers of your own just as long as you have someone on your side who is bigger and scarier than you. Every single werewolf will attack the big guy and leave you alone. Also, today the knowledge that vampires love to talk. And talk. And talk. And talk. was once more reinforced. Now if you'll excuse me, six hours of vampire legal proceedings and a fight with a bunch of werewolves takes a lot out of me. I need some sleep.
You have been informed.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
America-Atlantis Peace Treaties
Ladies and Gentlemen, I'm sure you've all read and-or seen all over the news about flight 1549's breath-taking water landing in the Hudson River. The official story is that they hit some birds at 3000 feet and that took out the engines. Yeah, I don't buy it. Not even a little bit. They've recently released footage of the plane hitting the water. Do you see that landing> That is a beautiful, smooth, picture-perfect water landing for a plane not built for water landings. That pilot executed a practiced and well-rehearsed maneuver there. He knew exactly what he was doing. This was no "crash landing." The truth of the matter is, on board that plane was an ambassador from Atlantis. He was meeting with our government to discuss, well, I don't really know what he was discussing, but the Atlanteans are ok with us. Their spy from the 1950s liked Superman and he for sure put in a good for the old U.S. Likewise, he proposed to this Atlantean spy long before he considered marrying Lois Lane, so she probably put in a good word for her own motherland, the sea.
The "emergency water landing" was actually staged to return the ambassador to his home. I know, I know, there's no way Atlantis is in the Hudson River. True. The only people there are wiseguys in cement shoes. But seriously. You may remember the other day when I said Don Knotts discovered Atlantis and took the secret to his grave. That was because he was under oath from the Atlantean king (they're still a monarchy, but they do at least have representative prefecture assemblies) that he would never divulge its secret location. By dropping the Atlantean ambassador off in the Hudson River, the Atlanteans were able to ensure that no one would ever attempt to follow the diplomat home. After all, would you go swimming in the Hudson River> I wouldn't. Let us, then, take this water landing for what it is truly worth: a sign that the U.S. is not only reaching out to fellow nations and principalities of the world, but that we are actively trying to abide by their wishes rather than adopting "We can do no wrong" mentality. Things are looking up already.
You have been informed.
Amber Alerts and Your Food
Ladies and Gentlemen, everyone knows that, aside from telling you how nutritious your tasty, creamy glass of cold milk is, the sides of milk cartons help locate missing children. Today I discovered that some milk cartons will actually go out there and seek those missing kids out.
Such foodstuff innovation should be applauded. After all, it's not every day a dairy product does something to help people. Previous smiling dairymen Milk and Cheese have, in fact, done a great deal to promote lactose intolerance via their transcontinental sprees of violence and degradation. The creators of this newer, friendlier milk should be proud. They should receive medals or a guest spot on America's Most Wanted. But if you'll pay close attention, you'll notice the milk is generic. No one claims ownership to him. He's his own person, and that's great. It shows Milky possesses personal initiative. He's into strawberry milk, so he's a little liberal, but that's okay, I guess. The Cold War is over, so it isn't as bad to like a pinko commie carton o' moo juice.
Still, why the anonymity> That milk is doing good service. Perhaps it just wants to do a good deed without the reward, like a true philanthropist and humanitarian. Surely from how uneasy he is on the streets, he's not a criminal. Or is he> I believe that the milk in question went bad in its youth, but was taken in by the family and given a chance to be a wholesome, productive, and all around nice guy. As such, when he sees the family's young son turn to the streets and the rock and roll music, he sought to save the boy from a similar fate. The milk saved the boy because he was seeking redemption. And it killed him. The boy killed him for bringing him back home. Again, appearances are deceptive. The boy wasn't behaving cruelly or ungratefully. He was releasing the milk. It suffered under the weight of its past sins from its former life. His charitable act allowed him to die in peace and earn his salvation (and score a dead girlfriend to boot!). Milk cartons with faces on the side, then, are not informing you of missing kids for your benefit. The picture is there to allow milk to atone from its crimes.
If you see a missing child on a milk carton, the lesson here is pay it no mind. If you leave the carton alone, it will find the kid for you and save its soul in the process. You wouldn't want to keep a poor sweet carton of milk out of heaven, would you>
You have been informed.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Secretary of the End of the World
Ladies and Gentlemen, I apologize for my absence yesterday. I've been unpleasantly sick and unable to move without hating the world and was thus unable to get to the computer. Today, however, I'm feeling somewhat healthier and somewhat more mobile, and so I've spent the day preparing for the inevitable zombie plague that will throw mankind back a couple centuries. It occurred to me, unfortunately, that the government does not seem to be doing anything about this looming menace, or any looming menace for that matter. It's all "Middle East" this or "War in Iraq" that. The end of the world coming. The writings on the wall. And the writing isn't just on the wall. It's in books, too. I know Obama can read, so why hasn't his Office of the President Elect not mentioned any of his administration's plans for dealing with armageddon> Why was the coming apocalypse not a major issue during the election> Come on, man! Everyone knows the world ends in 2012! That doesn't give you a lot of time to get ready and it certainly isn't the kind of thing you wait until a few months before to deal with because you're concerned about your legacy. Ladies and Gentlemen, to keep us all safe, I propose you write to your congressmen, your president, your prime minister, your queen, your... parliamentarian. Whoever rules your country, write to them and demand your government institute a Secretary of the End of the World position, perhaps even a whole office. Because those who take the end of the world lying down will find themselves lying down dead when the end of the world comes.
You have been informed. Now get out there and inform your government.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
10 Unknown Facts About Don Knotts
Ladies and Gentlemen, I grew up watching Don Knotts play the wacky deputy Barney Fife on the Andy Griffith Show. I watched him play some wacky old guy opposite old Andy Griffith on Matlock. I remember watching him be a wacky coward on The Ghost and Mr. Chicken. I saw quite a bit of Don Knotts growing up in fact, or at least on TV. Here are a few things I learned about Mr. Knotts since he passed away in 2006 that changed my perception of that wacky, lovable coot.
10 Unknown Facts About Don Knotts
- Don Knotts could snipe a cherry off of an ice cream sundae from 1000 yards. With a rubber band.
- Don Knotts could handle eating Mentos and Diet Coke at the same time.
- Don Knotts can walk a fishing line tightrope across the Grand Canyon. That's right. Not could. Can. Even today.
- Don Knotts once counted to google.
- Don Knotts discovered Atlantis, but took its secret location to his grave.
- Don Knotts was immune to both the common and uncommon cold.
- Don Knotts could mystically turn margarine to butter and back (turning it back was assumed but unproven, because who in their right mind would turn real butter into margarine>)
- Don Knotts once spent a year meditating upon the sound of popcorn seeds being poured into a hot pan.
- Don Knotts diffused the Cuban Missile Crisis by threatening to catch any launched nukes by either country and throw them right back where they came from.
- Don Knotts once pulled a semi truck with his teeth. While it was trying to drive in the opposite direction.
It's amazing how the truth changes your perception of a man. I always imagined him as a lovable, bumbling, slow-witted codger. Now I understand that he was a man of peak physical and mental ability, which only proves what a truly talented actor he really was. He will continue to be missed.
You have been informed.
Monday, January 12, 2009
And What Do You Burn Witches On>
Ladies and Gentlemen, I think we've all heard the infallible logic of Sir Bedivere in regards for identifying witches. My fiancee and I have both come down ill, and we don't know who gave it to us. Clearly, we've been bewitched. So what did we do today> We built a big roaring fire in the fireplace. Coincidentally, the fiancee is feeling a little better. My cough, however, is getting a little worse. Perhaps I didn't burn the right witch. I threw wood randomly on the fire, assuming of course that because all witches are made of wood, all wood must be made of witches. This syllogism proved false, and now the surviving witch is agitating my lungs in spite. Clearly the important thing I forgot to do is weigh each piece of wood against a duck. Witches are made of wood. Wood floats. Ducks float. So if a person and a duck weigh the same, the person is a witch because she weights the same as a duck, which, like wood, floats. So in theory, if witches are made of wood, I should have checked the wood to see if it weighed the same as a duck. If the wood weighed more or less than a duck, I would be forced to conclude that the wood was not wood at all and therefore could not have been the witch who has been tormenting me.
Tomorrow, I catch a duck from the lake and weigh it against the firewood before throwing it onto the flames. Being thus more thorough than I was today, I hope to get rid of this bronchitis curse once and for all. Should you find yourself ill too, remember, the secret is to find a piece of wood that weighs as much as a duck and burn it. Burn it if you ever want to feel healthy again.
You have been informed.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Truth for Just a Few XP more...
Ladies and Gentlemen, learning new truth every day is difficult. Very difficult. Some days it's a challenge. Perhaps I'm trying to take on Truths too powerful for me. Which bring me to an important challenge. How do I become more prepared to take on larger truths> I figure currently, I'm a level three truth-seeker. That means I need about 1500 more experience points before I can advance to the next level. I could take on a Battle Guardian and get all of the XP in one go, but I don't think I can take on a beastie with 163 hit points and a 32 armor class. At least, not now. And not by myself. But if I took it on with friends I'd have to kill several of them, and that defeats the point, doesn't it> I could take on fifteen Kobold skirmishers. Not at once, mind you. That'd kill me as quickly as the Battle Guardian. Maybe I'll take on sixty kobold minions, one or two at a time. It still comes out to 1500 XP only with substantially less risk to me. Just expect, if I do this, to get a lot of truths about fighting kobolds for a while. You know, until the level up.
You have been informed.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Are You One of the Chosen?
Ladies and Gentlemen, some time after Martin Luther, for lack of a Comments box, nailed a few complaints (ninety-five to be exact) to a door, and the Protestants used the Protestant Reformation to reform, a guy named John Calvin (for whom my favorite comic strip character is named) decided that only so many people were getting into heaven and those who were going to Heaven were already chosen. It was an idea called predestination. Essentially (to oversimplify a complex religious concept) that it doesn't matter what you do, God has already decided before the world even was who would be allowed through those Pearly Gates. Now, sure, that should take some of the burden off of people's minds. After all, fretting about it clearly won't change God's mind. However, there were those who just absolutely had to know if their name was on His Almighty Guest List before trying to show up to the party. The idea was that you could tell who was saved based on how successful they were mortally (again, to draw an oversimplification). After all, why would God allow someone he didn't like to have a highly lucrative business and someone he loved to be poor? So, material wealth and status were taken to be signs that God clearly approved of someone.
Now, what does this history/theocracy lesson have to do with us?
Today, I met hundreds of God's chosen. My place of employment is hosting a poker tournament and a lot of affluent individuals were present. I suspect these people were Chosen because not only were they financially successful, they got to do things like put their cigarettes out on the walls and flick their ashes on the floor when an ash tray is literally six inches away from them. They get to spit and swear and otherwise be socially unacceptable and we bend over backwards to cater to their every whim. The can toss trash onto the floor with their right hand when an identical action with the left would have put it in a trash can. They can squash their cigarettes out on the carpet. They can even chain smoke to the point of having asthmatic coworkers needing paramedics to give them oxygen. Now if that doesn't say, "There must be something really special about me for me to behave like this and not get in any trouble," nothing does.
It was kind of awe-inspiring being in the presence of so many people whose places in Heaven are clearly assured. I suspect, given my endless string of financial difficulties, that I am not on the Holy Guest List. I guess I'm ok with that. God seems to really like selfish jerks anyway, and I can live without spending eternity around them.
You have been informed.
Now, what does this history/theocracy lesson have to do with us?
Today, I met hundreds of God's chosen. My place of employment is hosting a poker tournament and a lot of affluent individuals were present. I suspect these people were Chosen because not only were they financially successful, they got to do things like put their cigarettes out on the walls and flick their ashes on the floor when an ash tray is literally six inches away from them. They get to spit and swear and otherwise be socially unacceptable and we bend over backwards to cater to their every whim. The can toss trash onto the floor with their right hand when an identical action with the left would have put it in a trash can. They can squash their cigarettes out on the carpet. They can even chain smoke to the point of having asthmatic coworkers needing paramedics to give them oxygen. Now if that doesn't say, "There must be something really special about me for me to behave like this and not get in any trouble," nothing does.
It was kind of awe-inspiring being in the presence of so many people whose places in Heaven are clearly assured. I suspect, given my endless string of financial difficulties, that I am not on the Holy Guest List. I guess I'm ok with that. God seems to really like selfish jerks anyway, and I can live without spending eternity around them.
You have been informed.
Nocturnal Truth?
Ladies and Gentlemen, I meant to post this last night, but my network died on me. Stupid sentient computers thwarting my mad truth skillz. It occurred to me that lately I can't think of anything to research until right before I go to bed a night. Am I becoming nocturnal? Perhaps my brain is lunar powered, or worse, I'm becoming a vampire. Hopefully it's the lunar powered thing. I really like garlic bread. That's your (late) mini-truth for yesterday. I'll get something better for you later today. Assuming the computer hasn't shut me out again.
You have been informed.
You have been informed.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
GenCon
Ladies and Gentlemen, fun fact for you. The Geneva Conventions are actually not one, but four treatises on how most things war should be conducted including "what is and is not cool" to do to prisoners. The Conventions take their guidelines from four separate meetings of various humanitarian groups from the years 1864 to 1949. (Check this article for more detailed info on the chronology of the four). In 1977 (and 2005), the conventions were revised with ammendments added to them. You may already know all of this. What you may not know is that in 1977, science fiction was in vogue. The original Star Trek series had a strong cult following, Star Wars (A New Hope) opened in theaters. Battlestar Galactica was popular on TV. It was a good time to think the future would be full of lasers and space ships. The Geneva Conventions thought it would be a good time to update their name for these fast-paced future times. They tried to rename themselves GenCon 1977, but unfortunately, an upstart gaming convention in the United States was using the name GenCon 1977. The Geneva Conventioneers complained at their inability to acquire the cool name as the gamers had no intention of sharing the name.
The Geneva people tried everything. They said their rules for war were more important, but GenCon gamers were honestly more concerned with reenacting battles from prior to the Geneva Conventions' adoption (primarily those of Alexander and Napoleon), and thus had no concern for their moral guidelines as they had little bearing on their game rules. They tried saying that because GenCon was no longer held in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin, they should relinquish the title, but the geeks said no. They'd already printed up the fliers and the last thing they wanted was the DM running their D&D tournament ending up in Switzerland instead of Convention Hall B. The members of the Geneva Convention tried saying it was unfair that the gamers were monopolizing all GenCons for all years 1968 indefinitely into the future. The gamers threatened them with photon torpedos and thermal detonators. Unfortunately for the members of the Geneva Convention, the Cold War was on and they didn't know the gamers were referring to fictional arms and not some top secret U.S. military weapon. The members of the Geneva Convention backed down, but not before deciding that "it sucks being neutral all the time. You never get your way."
You have been informed.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
But What About Zeus>
Ladies and Gentlemen, I must confess, I love me some Mythbusters. It's easily one of my favorite shows on TV. My philosophical brothers-at-arms Adam and Jaime (and their squires-at-arms Kari, Tory, and Grant, but especially Kari) are all about exposing truth where lies... lie. My only complaint is that, well, they take on common misconceptions, sure, but I've never seen them go after a good old fashioned myth. Where is my episode about meeting the Devil at a crossroads or unicorns or the feud between Poseidon and Athena> When do I get to learn the truth behind Quetzalcoatl, Atlantis, Loki, Anansi, and Izanagi no Mikoto and Izanami no Mikoto> They need to address these in the next season or I'm going to send them a stern letter demanding, nay, politely asking that they change their name to Modernmisconceptionbusters.
Ok, so, maybe today you didn't learn much about the world as a whole, but you did at least learn that a) I like Mythbusters, b) I really like Kari, and c) I feel Mythbusters is losing sight of its namesake: myths.
You have been informed.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
10 Unknown Facts About Cylons
Ladies and Gentlemen, the final season of Battlestar Galactica is almost upon us and the whole internet (and by whole internet, I mean the geeky parts), are abuzz speculating on who the final Cylon could be. I'm not one to give spoilers, but I will give you some hints to help you identify Cylons when you see them in today's
10 Unknown Facts About Cylons:
- Cylons are mildly allergic to pineapple.
- Cylons often misspell the word conspicuous, forgetting the first "u."
- Cylons think the best barbeque comes from Sagittaron, when everyone knows that they put too much sauce on and don't smoke the meat for long enough like they do on Aquaria. Now that is good barbeque.
- This doesn't apply to all Cylons, mind you, but most can be identified on sight, as they look like huge metal men with gun arms. For some reason, though, people are more concerned with finding the ones who aren't always heavily armed.
- Cylons are seven times more likely to be dog people than cat people.
- Cylons think that Anders was too defensive when he played pyramid for the Panthers.
- If an attractive woman wants to spend time with you in the bedroom, chances are she's a Cylon. If you're not sure, look for the glowing red back.
- Cylons are monotheistic, this is true. But contrary to popular belief, they are Pastafarians.
- Cylons may dress nice, but their clothes are actually sweatshop knockoffs of designer house brands, because the clothes are cheap and they don't care about human children.
- Cylons don't know it's not bacon.
Hopefully, this will help you find out who the final Cylon is before your friends so you can brag around the water cooler with a big fat "I told you so."*
You have been informed.
*Editor's note: Big Fat I-Told-You-Sos statistically tend to positively correlate with the likelihood of eating alone. You have been informed again.
Labels:
10 Unknown Facts,
battlestar galactica,
food,
religion
Monday, January 5, 2009
Why Your Mom Might Be A Satanist
Ladies and Gentlemen, remember when we were young and our parents warned us about the evil influences of Satan and his Satanic cults with their rock music and their Dungeons and Dragons and their Three's Company reruns> It seems Satan has other ways of reaching your immortal soul. What, you may ask, is he using now> I'll give you a hint. Your mom literally forced Satan's influence down your throat as a kid.
I'm talking about vegetables.
Growing up we had visions of Satanic cults sacrificing goats and wearing cool hoods. Not the case. If we look to the Bible, where at least thirty-seven percent of what we know about Satan comes from (thanks Hollywood, Salman Rushdie, and sensationalist depictions in Morality Plays), we learn that those who follow Satan can be identified by the foods they associate themselves with. If you remember, the first sin, the one the great serpent convinced Eve to commit, was eating fruit. Why did Cain kill Abel> He was jealous. Because God accepted Abel's animal sacrifice and frowned on Cain's offering. Of veggies. That's right. Cain, the first murderer, raised crops, not livestock. Need more proof> Go down the vegetarian food section of your supermarket. Don't have one> Don't feel bad. Neither do. But look near the burgers. You'll find vegan alternatives. "Where's the evil in that>" you ask. Let me shine some light into those eyes. The brand name of this evil, but tasty concoction of beany goodness just so happens to be (are you ready for it> Can I get a drum roll>) Morningstar, which just so happens to be the meaning of Satan's name Lucifer. Looks like Satan is planning a beef-free barbeque, with hot coals for burgers and souls.
I always knew preachy vegans were annoying. I never knew they were in league with the dark lord of the abyss. But they'll get their comeuppance in the end. After all, eternal flames are better for making perfectly grilled medium rare steaks than growing a refreshing salad.
You have been informed.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Kitty Physics
Ladies and Gentlemen, I came to a startling realization today. Several, in fact. I realized that as humans, we have for quite some time instinctually understood the make-up of the universe. Perhaps you've heard the expression "with every fiber of my being." Sure, it sounds nice, but with the proposition of string theory, generally stating that all matter is composed of minuscule, rapidly vibrating "strings." Thus, for centuries, we've innately known, perhaps not on a surface level but surely unconsciously, that we're all made of strings, or fibers. Thus, we understand by nature theoretical physics and quantum mechanics far beyond our conscious ken. That's the first realization.
The second realization is that cats have known all of this on a conscious level for much longer. How do I know this? My cat plays with my hands all the time. Know what else they play with all the time? Balls of yarn. And what are balls of yarn made of? Yes, yarn, smart aleck. But what is yarn made of? You guessed it. String. For thousands of years cats have alternated between playing with string and then playing with us, trying to get us to make the connection, to reach that epiphany, that truth which they already understood: everything is made of string.
Is this, perhaps why we're only now starting to see what we cruelly called LOLcats? We laugh at their inability to speak our language. I thought the schools were failing them. No, the cats are just struggling to learn a second language. And yet, I feel they've given up on trying to enlighten us about physics and the universe. Their new goal is the enslavement of humanity. That was my third realization.
Long ago, the Egyptians worshipped cats. Recently, we learned that perhaps the Egyptian gods were aliens. Could cats also be highly intelligent extra terrestrial creatures? It would explain their advanced knowledge of the hard sciences. But why enslavement? Countless movies, television shows, and comic books proclaim the potential mankind possesses. The Doctor is all about telling the universe, to quote Hamlet, "what piece of work is man." Many millenia ago, cats came to Earth to enlighten us, to save us from our primative ways and bring us into the wonderful world of science and the stars. But we refused to listen to the cats. We pampered them. We fed them and gave them affection, but we refused to listen and learn from them. In time, the cats realized that we would never learn, or at least that our human hubris was too much to allow us to learn from another species. And so they grew comfortable, complacent even in their now pampered lifestyle. Though not officially worshiped as gods, they still found themselves treated like royalty. And so they forgot their mission, certain that mankind would be forever trapped in their own self-imposed ignorance.
And then the printing press was invented. Mankind showed an interest in learning. Initially, the cats were delighted to see us take up the fire of Prometheus. Then they realized that, being thus aflame with the quest for knowledge, we may stop pampering and serving the cats to focus on more academic pursuits. The cats of the world unanimously agreed that they should institute a policy of hindering human development for their own selfish ends. Lacking opposable thumbs or the ability to speak, they resorted to the only option available to them. They began sitting on books to keep us from reading. For a while, this worked, but still science progressed, slowly but surely. With our recent discovery of super string theory, the cats realize that they're a whisker away from losing their servants to science and enlightenment. With desks being set up they way they are, with sliding keyboard trays, we as a species, now have ways to keep cats from preventing us from writing. Upright monitors keep the cats from preventing us from reading. Realizing that they could no longer hold back mankind's thirst for knowledge physically, the cats have begun to learn our language so that they may employ other means to keep us from growing mentally and advancing scientifically.
Sure, we may laugh at them, but every LOLcat laughed at is a LOLcat who kept you from studying, from experimenting, from expanding the scope of human knowledge.
You have been informed.
The second realization is that cats have known all of this on a conscious level for much longer. How do I know this? My cat plays with my hands all the time. Know what else they play with all the time? Balls of yarn. And what are balls of yarn made of? Yes, yarn, smart aleck. But what is yarn made of? You guessed it. String. For thousands of years cats have alternated between playing with string and then playing with us, trying to get us to make the connection, to reach that epiphany, that truth which they already understood: everything is made of string.
Is this, perhaps why we're only now starting to see what we cruelly called LOLcats? We laugh at their inability to speak our language. I thought the schools were failing them. No, the cats are just struggling to learn a second language. And yet, I feel they've given up on trying to enlighten us about physics and the universe. Their new goal is the enslavement of humanity. That was my third realization.
Long ago, the Egyptians worshipped cats. Recently, we learned that perhaps the Egyptian gods were aliens. Could cats also be highly intelligent extra terrestrial creatures? It would explain their advanced knowledge of the hard sciences. But why enslavement? Countless movies, television shows, and comic books proclaim the potential mankind possesses. The Doctor is all about telling the universe, to quote Hamlet, "what piece of work is man." Many millenia ago, cats came to Earth to enlighten us, to save us from our primative ways and bring us into the wonderful world of science and the stars. But we refused to listen to the cats. We pampered them. We fed them and gave them affection, but we refused to listen and learn from them. In time, the cats realized that we would never learn, or at least that our human hubris was too much to allow us to learn from another species. And so they grew comfortable, complacent even in their now pampered lifestyle. Though not officially worshiped as gods, they still found themselves treated like royalty. And so they forgot their mission, certain that mankind would be forever trapped in their own self-imposed ignorance.
And then the printing press was invented. Mankind showed an interest in learning. Initially, the cats were delighted to see us take up the fire of Prometheus. Then they realized that, being thus aflame with the quest for knowledge, we may stop pampering and serving the cats to focus on more academic pursuits. The cats of the world unanimously agreed that they should institute a policy of hindering human development for their own selfish ends. Lacking opposable thumbs or the ability to speak, they resorted to the only option available to them. They began sitting on books to keep us from reading. For a while, this worked, but still science progressed, slowly but surely. With our recent discovery of super string theory, the cats realize that they're a whisker away from losing their servants to science and enlightenment. With desks being set up they way they are, with sliding keyboard trays, we as a species, now have ways to keep cats from preventing us from writing. Upright monitors keep the cats from preventing us from reading. Realizing that they could no longer hold back mankind's thirst for knowledge physically, the cats have begun to learn our language so that they may employ other means to keep us from growing mentally and advancing scientifically.
Sure, we may laugh at them, but every LOLcat laughed at is a LOLcat who kept you from studying, from experimenting, from expanding the scope of human knowledge.
You have been informed.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Angsty Teenage Rebellion
Ladies and Gentlemen, when I first heard about Dungeons and Dragons 4th Ed. (let's call him FouRth EDition, or Fred for short), I thought, "Oh man. I hate that guy. I hate everything about him. He's so lame." All I heard, essentially was that he lost so many things that I loved about his older brother Third EDition (or Ted). Fred wanted nothing to do with rock bands or Bruce Lee. Fred was, well, a little simple minded. Fred, from what I heard, was a less intelligent or sophisitcated kid pretending to be his older brother, hoping all of his older brother's friends would like him, but really, we knew he wasn't the Ted we knew and loved. He was some obnoxious new kid.
It almost seemed that Fred wanted to be thought of that way. He wanted us to hate him. He wouldn't let us listen to music that inspires us to great feats of daring. He wanted to make sure no one he hung out with ever used the line "I know kung fu" by almost denying its existence. He seemed to limit our ability to change our minds about career goals later in life. Oh sure, he says he has no problem with us pursuing other interests as we get older, but we know that deep down, he'd be disappointed if we really tried to change our role in life. He said we'd need to buy random things to hang out with him. Ted never made us buy random things. We thought Fred was just trying to get our money for mommy and daddy.
But today, I got to know Fred. I sat down with him. Some of my friends kept telling me that I'd really like him once I got to know him. I figured I would give him the benefit of the doubt, but only because a couple of my buddies vouched for him. As it turns out, he's a really approachable guy. He's very friendly. He's efficient, and I'm a sucker for efficiency. He's not an elitist. You don't have to know a million little things to hang out with him without being called an idiot. He'll kindly help you keep track of anything important you may need to remember. As for good music and good shaolin butt kickers, he says he likes them. He just hasn't had time to really dedicate himself to those lately, but is making time in the near future to reacquaint himself with them. He gives his more intelligent and bookish buddies more opportunity to shine, instead of making the jocks the big important guys while the nerds were only useful a couple times a day, who needed to rest before they coud do anything worth while. And as for the buying stuff, I realized that most of the stuff he wishes I had, oh wait, I already own, and most people who hang out with Ted already have that stuff. They just don't have the new shiney models. Fred doesn't care. The bit about changing careers though, it's still kinda true. You can look into other career options, but Fred wants you to know that deep down, you'll always be your first job.
So why would Fred go out of his way for you to not like him when you first hear about him? My guess is because he's the baby from a family of overly permissive parents. His mommy and daddy are such touchy feely suburban yuppies. Everything all of their kids do is great, and they stand behind them 100%. Spellfire? I still don't think they've allowed themselves to call that a bad egg. So what's the baby to do? Even if the youngest kid in the family is a good kid, he's going to do all kinds of ridiculous things to get in trouble, to get called out by everyone on the playground just to get attention. "Look at me, everyone! I'm Fred, and mommy and daddy are giving me all the love and support they used to give Ted. Go ahead and hate me. Or love me. The important thing is I have all of the attention." He's just acting out because he's living in his brother's rather large shadow and so he'll do anything, even take unfair heat for being stupid or greedy or willing to hang out with anybody if it means people will pay attention to him and maybe give him a shot. Like the baby in any family, he just doesn't want to be ignored.
You have been informed.
It almost seemed that Fred wanted to be thought of that way. He wanted us to hate him. He wouldn't let us listen to music that inspires us to great feats of daring. He wanted to make sure no one he hung out with ever used the line "I know kung fu" by almost denying its existence. He seemed to limit our ability to change our minds about career goals later in life. Oh sure, he says he has no problem with us pursuing other interests as we get older, but we know that deep down, he'd be disappointed if we really tried to change our role in life. He said we'd need to buy random things to hang out with him. Ted never made us buy random things. We thought Fred was just trying to get our money for mommy and daddy.
But today, I got to know Fred. I sat down with him. Some of my friends kept telling me that I'd really like him once I got to know him. I figured I would give him the benefit of the doubt, but only because a couple of my buddies vouched for him. As it turns out, he's a really approachable guy. He's very friendly. He's efficient, and I'm a sucker for efficiency. He's not an elitist. You don't have to know a million little things to hang out with him without being called an idiot. He'll kindly help you keep track of anything important you may need to remember. As for good music and good shaolin butt kickers, he says he likes them. He just hasn't had time to really dedicate himself to those lately, but is making time in the near future to reacquaint himself with them. He gives his more intelligent and bookish buddies more opportunity to shine, instead of making the jocks the big important guys while the nerds were only useful a couple times a day, who needed to rest before they coud do anything worth while. And as for the buying stuff, I realized that most of the stuff he wishes I had, oh wait, I already own, and most people who hang out with Ted already have that stuff. They just don't have the new shiney models. Fred doesn't care. The bit about changing careers though, it's still kinda true. You can look into other career options, but Fred wants you to know that deep down, you'll always be your first job.
So why would Fred go out of his way for you to not like him when you first hear about him? My guess is because he's the baby from a family of overly permissive parents. His mommy and daddy are such touchy feely suburban yuppies. Everything all of their kids do is great, and they stand behind them 100%. Spellfire? I still don't think they've allowed themselves to call that a bad egg. So what's the baby to do? Even if the youngest kid in the family is a good kid, he's going to do all kinds of ridiculous things to get in trouble, to get called out by everyone on the playground just to get attention. "Look at me, everyone! I'm Fred, and mommy and daddy are giving me all the love and support they used to give Ted. Go ahead and hate me. Or love me. The important thing is I have all of the attention." He's just acting out because he's living in his brother's rather large shadow and so he'll do anything, even take unfair heat for being stupid or greedy or willing to hang out with anybody if it means people will pay attention to him and maybe give him a shot. Like the baby in any family, he just doesn't want to be ignored.
You have been informed.
Friday, January 2, 2009
Not again...
Ladies and Gentlemen, the internet went down on me. For the past couple days. Someone doesn't want the truth told. Could it be Oprah> (the question mark key is still kinda flakey). One might simply blame it all on some y2k9 bug. Nothing happened at Y2K. Maybe the glitch was a little tired. Needed to sleep in for a few years. Or maybe something more sinister is afoot. Someone must have backdated my computer and then retroactively removed the coding that allowed my PC to shrug off the glitch several years ago. But who> I doubt it would be hackers, since they're all about getting information out there. Granted, I'm talking about hackers, people of the hacker culture, and not hackers, people simply with computer hacking skills.
Which enemy of the truth could pull this off> Vampires> Oprah> Oliver Cromwell> Aliens> Jeff Goldblum taught us that alien technology is fully compatible with the Windows operating system. perhaps it was their revenge for his viral attack against them in 1996. Only now, if the ads from 1999 are to be believed, Jeff Goldblum is using a Mac. And Windows compatible viruses more than likely won't affect someone running with OSX. Perhaps Jeff deliberately made the switch to the iMac to prevent just such retribution. However, being unable to accurately retaliate, for some reason, these maligned aliens have decided I'm a perfectly good proxy for their Jeff Goldblum revenge. I can't say I blame them though. I doubt it was deliberate. We humans all look alike. No natural variation in number of limbs or eyes. I can understand where they'd get confused. I would like to say to Mr. Goldblum, however, that I'm prorating you for three days of internet use.
You have been informed.
P.S. In other, totally unrelated news, my report on Ten Unknown Facts about Wil Wheaton made his Year End Review. It makes me so proud.
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