Bored on a Friday

I was beginning to think nothing interesting would happen today. Then I read the following quote from Frank Zappa, in response to a popular rumor, which made me laugh like a three headed sloth:

"For the record, folks: I never took a shit on stage, and the closest I ever came to eating shit anywhere was at a Holiday Inn buffet in Fayetteville, North Carolina, in 1973."

I don't know why, but I just couldn't stop laughing.

Spam Haiku

Among the volumes of spam I get each morning at my work e-mail addres, I recevied two e-mails with the following subject lines, written apparently in haiku:

Spam Haiku #1: An ad for financial investments
"No," I said. "Let's wait."
She spoke of very simple things
How much would she have?

Spam Haiku #2: You can figure it out.
Inadequacy
All things are greater with size
enlarge your penis.

Either there are some creative spammers out there, or the guys writing code for human language approximation are getting really good.

more idiots

Regardless of what you think about this issue, you gotta love this picture. It's been sitting in my pictures file for weeks and I have no idea where it came from.

Idiots

Read this, then read this, and then laugh like a banshee. (source)

The Sasquatch: Asshole

Over the weekend, a friend of mine laughed at me and my failed attempt to quit caffeine. The best part, he said, was that I had been so smug and self-righteous about it. This made me a bit nervous, since I really hate it when people act like that I make a sincere effort to stop myself from acting like that particular kind of asshole whenever possible. The worst part, though, was that he claims to have read such smugness right here on my blog. I went back and checked my previous entries just to be sure and, lo and behold, I can’t seem to find anything that was exceptionally self righteous with respect to my brief respite from caffeine slavery.

Here is one paragraph from an entry on June 23:

“I gave up caffeine. Yes. Me, the guy who is single-handedly responsible for bringing Diet Mountain Dew into the mainstream through continuous consumption of the sweet nectar, has given up his nasty vice. It’s been almost four days since I quit and, now that the gremlins have stopped gnawing on my head, I’m beginning to see the world through new, clearer eyes. Continued side effects include, rampant dizziness, unending exhaustion, a powerful and unquenchable thirst, a constant ringing in the ears, and a slightly more mature outlook on how to approach the world. Perhaps I should go back.“

I guess the “slightly more mature outlook” comment could be viewed in that light, but I figured it would have been outweighed by all the physical maladies I listed previous to that statement, most notably the rampant dizziness and ringing of the ears, which have continued throughout the inexorable relapse you all knew was coming. That, and the admission in the very next sentence:

“Oh yeah. I might also be diabetic. Have a nice day!”

Which ended up not being true, but still made me feel a bit on edge that afternoon. In the very next entry on June 30, I began with the following, completely humble statement:

“I am the man!”

But, of course, I meant that in respect to the web design project I had recently completely; a project which failed, by the way. I know this post was not in reference to caffeine in any manner, however, since later in this post, I say the following:

“In case you couldn’t tell. I’m back on the caffeine. And, lo, it is a good thing. At least until the stomach cramps start, that is.”

As far as I can tell, I wasn’t being an asshole about the whole thing. I never claimed that quitting caffeine made me a better person or that I was somehow morally superior to all others for abstaining from it. I don’t do that shit, and I don’t even like to pretend to do that shit because people who act like that piss me off. So if you got the impression that I was being a smug, self-righteous asshole in any way, shape, or form, please accept my most heartfelt apologies. It was either a miscommunication on my part or a poorly phrased attempt at humor.

Discombobulated Whirl

People. People. People.

There's an hour of work left on a Friday afternoon in this foul year of our Lord, 2006, and I can think of nothing better to do than write something, especially since the construction people of the large state university in Ohio where I work have apparently decided to put the totality of their technical acumen to good use through banging large, metal wrenches against thick, percussive poles endlessly, for hours upon end. Seriously. It's like they're going for a fucking record or something. My eyes have stopped working and the devastation of Meniere's disease upon my inner ear has persuaded the desk in front of me to jump ten feet to the left at random intervals all day. Just when I think its safe to start work again, somebody puts my office on spin cycle and everything flies around me in a discombobulated whirl. This means that even if I wanted to do real work I can't because my office won't let me.

Driving home should be fun.

So what are you up to? Is work going well? Are your various and sundry public service endeavors turning out like you had hoped? I realize that sounds sarcastic, and I apologize. I don't mean to be. I actually have a deep respect for whatever the hell it is you do. You're an amazing person and a testament to all that is American or Canadian or whatever nationality you are. I don't mean to be this way. It's just that, in my current state of mind, I can't help but sound like an ass.

I crossed the street this afternoon in search of a chipotle burrito and ran into a telephone pole. I mistepped while trying to avoid a homeless person who simultaneously begged for spare change and wished God's blessing upon all those who declined to share the contents of their emaciated pockets. He moved this way and that like a professional dancer in rags, jumping and thrusting his appendages at queer angles like a gazelle with loose tendons. I don't think he saw me coming, because after he imparted the wisdom of Job upon two college students who failed to notice him above the din of their iPods, he leapt backward, thrusting his arms in the air, shouting, "God say's it's gonna be all good!" His trajectory left him in my path, which would normally have been an easy thing to avoid. Unfortunately my aforementioned vertigo took that moment to tilt the earth downard and to the right, and I ran face first into the pole. This was a lucky thing, though. Because at that very moment a city bus blasted through the intersection at nearly 50 miles per hour. I might be a match for a VW Bug, but a city bus would have eaten me for lunch, which would be ironic since it was I who had recently sought noontime sustenenace.

The circule of life, indeed!

Alright. Enough babble. Everybody return to their regularly schedule programs, and I shall return to my previous love, professional yodeling. Ah the fun memories I have from my days as head yodeler on the professional circuit: the oppressive crowds, the thrill of competition, the sexy leiderhosen, the suffocating stench of sauerkraut. It was an amazing time but, sadly, it is another story for another day.

Yodeleeeee HEEEE hooo!

Call me Milton

I’m wasting the final minutes of a pre-holiday Friday afternoon at the state university in Ohio where I work, writing meandering dialogue for a play that won’t seem to start moving and listening to The Killers’ Hot Fuss album. It seems I am not quite the man I thought I was in my previous post. The layouts I designed didn’t quite fly like I had hoped. But that’s ok. I have all next week to really mess things up.

I also learned this afternoon that, despite administration’s intimations to the contrary, I am moving out of my office in August or maybe September to make room for visiting librarians who may or may not be here until next Summer (2007). I get to move my tiny little lab, my boxes full of wires and connector thingies, and the two workstations and desks for my student workers into an office that is slightly smaller than where I currently live. This office is essentially a hallway between two major offices on my floor.

Oh yeah. It doubles as a storage closet!

This is good news, though. It means that once I get moved in and everyone realizes I am the loose tire without a valve stem, I can make the casual suggestion that perhaps working from home will serve as a viable alternative to on campus employment while the library renovation plans get started. Once the library renovation is completed (somewhere between 10 years and 200 years from now), I can move back into the storage closet. My student workers should have graduated by then.

So it looks like fun times here at Sasquatch Headquarters! Wahoo!

I’m sure they’ll get it all worked out. And if they don’t, I’m not too worried. It means I get to hang out in the comfortable computer labs with my laptop while they decide what’s going on.

Veni, Vidi, Vici

I am the man.

I just designed two separate and somewhat complicated Wikimedia layouts and stylesheets for the library wiki we’re running at the state university in Ohio where I work. Additionally, I set up an off-wiki account request form, finished up some scripts for another site, cleaned up my e-mail account, and even had time to check out all the blogs I’ve missed in the past week. Not only that, but I did it all before noon.

In case you couldn’t tell. I’m back on the caffeine. And, lo, it is a good thing. At least until the stomach cramps start, that is.

Now that I’m finished with work-related work, I’m off to work on the three plays I need to write over the next two months. I hope your Fourth of July weekend is exciting. Try not to pour acid all over your eyeballs... like I did last year...when I was completely sober...no, really, I was...I'm serious...stop looking at me like that.

Given all the fun going on the Middle East right now, why not check out the Armageddon Flow Chart, just to see how close we are to destruction.

Updates from The Sasquatch

So the play is over and everything is pretty much back to normal here at Sasquatch headquarters. There are a couple of interesting things going on around here, most of which you would likely rather not hear. But I’ll tell you anyway. Because this is my site and I’ll do as I please, thank you very much.

Did I mention that I have a girlfriend, now? If not, I do! Her name is Jen and she lives in the original home of the Sasquatch, Cincinnati. We’ve known each other for a while and we’ve been interested in each other for a while. Only neither of us had the guts to say anything about it. At the risk of sounding sexist, I should have said something about it earlier, but I didn’t. No matter. The present is what counts and at present we are together. Here is a picture of us together in Toronto over Memorial Day weekend.

** ** ** **

Now that the play is over, it would only seem logical that I should move onto other projects. Or maybe pay attention to my real job. Thankfully, that is not the case. I have several other dramatic performances to begin planning. The first is a play I’m writing for the Columbus area Firelight Theater Company (which does not yet have a website). The second is a collection of one acts I’ve been writing, which Wildwood will likely perform. Now, those of you out there in the know might start thinking to yourselves, “woah. The Sasquatch is writing for two separate theater companies!” Not so fast, bucko. The same people populate both companies. One is church related and the other is not so church related.

That means I can actually say bad words in the non church-related company!

Finally, I have yet another play I’m writing, which is for no group in particular, based on the book of Job. It's a comedy, though, so don't be afraid. I probably won’t finish that one until next year, though, since I still have to write The Book™, and start that cartoon with Chad.

I’m also thinking about going back to grad school, only this time I’d study library science instead of Information Systems. Sure, Library Science isn’t what it used to be, but I think the industry is merely undergoing a massive change, and those with library degrees as well as an I.T. background will find themselves in high demand in the near future. If not, at least I’ll have a happy pile of debt to deal with. That has to count for something, right?

I gave up caffeine. Yes. Me, the guy who is single-handedly responsible for bringing Diet Mountain Dew into the mainstream through continuous consumption of the sweet nectar, has given up his nasty vice. It’s been almost four days since I quit and, now that the gremlins have stopped gnawing on my head, I’m beginning to see the world through new, clearer eyes. Continued side effects include, rampant dizziness, unending exhaustion, a powerful and unquenchable thirst, a constant ringing in the ears, and a slightly more mature outlook on how to approach the world.

Perhaps I should go back.

Oh yeah. I might also be diabetic. Have a nice day!

Pointless Essay #Q: Tolerance

The library of the large state university in Ohio where I work had a staff appreciation lunch on the big lawn today. I had the opportunity to sit with two ladies from the Slavic and Cyrillic library, and we talked about our jobs. I learned that the two ladies are from very different backgrounds. One is Bosnian and the other is Croatian. That might not mean much here in America, but in Eastern Europe that’s like saying one is Sunni and the other is Shiite, or one is Capulet and the other a Montegue.

One is a Hatfield and the other a McCoy.

Due to the nature of their collection, they often have guests from Eastern Europe over to visit. They will stay in the city of the large state university in Ohio where I work and spend their days pouring over the vast collection of ancient literature and whatnot. The ladies told me that their personal heritage can sometimes come into play.

“We have to warn people that I am from Serbia and she is from Croatia,” one lady said, “because sometimes they make inappropriate and disparaging comments about one race or the other if they don’t know. It might not sound right to us here in the States, but that’s just how they do things over there.”

We went on to talk about the geographical landscape of Eastern Europe and how, in order to retain their history, culture, and heritage, many groups also retained the social prejudices that went along with it. Otherwise, they argued, this heritage would be lost forever. ”It’s unfortunate,” they said, “but that’s the world they live in.”

After this happy conversation, they asked me what I did. I told them that I sat around all day, watching movies on my computer and posting to my blog and they smiled, saying that it sounded interesting. (actually, I told them what I did and they were immediately bored beyond belief; which is ironic, considering they deal with ancient Slavic tax records all day). They asked if this was my first experience working in a library and I said that I had worked as a Circulation manager at the highly esteemed University of Cincinnati Medical School library (you can’t spell SUCKS with out UC!), and that this was the city in which I was raised.

“Cincinnati’s a weird town,” one of them told me. “I’ve never understood it. Everybody there is so f**king conservative. I hate it.”

“Yes,” the other lady said, “What’s the deal with you people?”

Now I understood that they were joking, but I still found it mildly ironic that these ladies, who had spent a great deal of time discussing the great pains to they take in order to avoid offending people with Slavic backgrounds, would so easily speak about Cincinnatians and conservatives in such broad, derisive, and stereotypical terms, especially when you consider that they had never met me and knew nothing about me.

I told them that Cincinnati was a lot like Eastern Europe when it comes to tolerance and diversity and the acceptance of outside cultures. Due to its geographical landscape of surrounding hills, the city developed through small valley towns in between the hills which, for many years, remained isolated from the others with only a few rare exceptions. As the city grew and the towns expanded, the small pockets of civilization had to choose whether to give up their individuality and welcome outsiders or remain as they were. Many of the small towns refused to accept outsiders, which is why many people who move into the city from other locations can still feel like outsiders even after living their for over a decade. It is also why the city feels like it is stuck in the ‘70s, and has slowly begun a cultural descent that is eaten on one side by the aging population of those who were here in its heyday and on the other, the rampant flashy, suburbanized, tract housing blandness that threatens to destroy most cities across America.

I went on to say that, while the county is excessively conservative, the city is actually quite liberal. There is a vibrant arts and music scene, there are major sports teams with rich histories, and there are two major universities that contribute to the global community of science, art, architecture, and literature. The majority of Cincinnati’s politicians are democrats, and nearly every mayor in the city’s history has been rabidly liberal. This is the city that spawned Jerry Springer, remember.

“Well they need to stop being so damn conservative and just get with the times,” the ladies said, and we moved on to discuss other things.

I was surprised, though, that these women, who were open to other cultures outside the American landscape, would be close-minded when it came to domestic differences. This is, I think, a problem with the way we view society here in America. Have you noticed that both sides of the political spectrum make it a habit of accusing the other of close-mindedness? It’s almost to the point that this has become the defining characteristic of “those with whom we disagree,” and this is likely a large part of why so many people on either side of the equation refuse to discuss issues with people who challenge them.

This is a gross misconception about society as a whole. Most of us work with people who think differently. Pro choice people work hand in hand with pro life people. Homosexuals and conservative Christians shop in the same supermarkets. Democrats and Republicans sit next to each other at company picnics, eat the same food, drink the same beer, and often laugh at the same jokes. We are not as different as the popular beliefs make us out to be.

So how do we define cultural diversity and tolerance? Does tolerance mean that we should accept differing opinions as equally correct, even if those opinions exist in diametric opposition? Does it mean that we should recognize our differences and merely learn to co-exist? Or does it mean we should recognize people’s right to be wrong about stuff, realize that many of our deeply held beliefs and convictions are likely just as wrong, and commit to learning from other people through community?

I’ve always believed it’s the third one. While it is the most difficult, it can also be the most rewarding. It means that some of us conservative Christians can learn a thing or two about standing up to opposition (like Christ did) through the struggles faced by many in the homosexual community, many at the hands of our brethren. It means that socialists and free market capitalists can finally come together and realize that where one idea is weak, the other is strong, and that an economic ideal likely exists with both ends of the spectrum working in concert. It means Eastern Europeans realizing that historical mistakes really do repeat themselves if we fail to learn from them, and that the correct response to this repetition is not to sit back and call those involved close-minded, but rather to actively work towards quelling those mistakes before they get started.

And it means that fat, bald, white guys from Cincinnati should realize that this is a difficult thing for Eastern Europeans to do. Or anyone else for that matter.

Come see the play

The play is this Friday at 8pm. Be there.

Only A Week Away

ADDENDUM: Many thanks to Chad for the trailer production and to Poindexter for taking all the snazzy pictures.

Pointless Essay: Reasonable Faith

P.Z. Myers over at Pahryngula has an interesting post on faith, arguing that it is worthless in modern society. He has this to say:

“Faith is a hole in your brain. Faith stops critical thinking. Faith is a failure point inculcated into people's minds, an unguarded weak point that allows all kinds of nasty, maggoty, wretched ideas to crawl into their heads and take up occupancy. Supporting faith is like supporting people who refuse to be vaccinated: they're harmless in and of themselves, they may be perfectly healthy right now, but they represent fertile ground for disease, and they represent potential severe damage to the social compact. When you're in a culture that worships Abraham's insanity, you're fostering the nonsense that enables the Son of Sam.”

In response to somebody else’s post about the idiotic pseudo-requirement that politicians must be people of faith in order to advance, PZ continues further with this:

“When the core of the institution is an acceptance of irrational, the ones who will climb to the top are those most able to exploit the delusions of the masses, or who are most earnest and unhesitating in their endorsement of foolishness.”

PZ is showing his hand. He launches into a derisive rant about faith without ever having defined it for us. To him, apparently, faith is an acceptance of the irrational, not an acceptance of something that, while rationality may exist to varying degrees, is not or cannot be proven beyond a certain extent. According to PZ, believing in the Flying Spaghetti Monster requires faith, but adhering to a scientific description, which is merely an inexact human approximation of reality, as truth and not an approximation of such requires absolutely no leap in logic. Science requires faith as well, and if you disagree, please explain whether you believe the Big Bang or String Theory of cosmogony (or something else) and share with us the perfect line of logic that has lead you to this conclusion.

Then give me a reason to believe that naturalism is the only valid system for determining existence and reality. I’m all ears.

P.Z. states that all religious belief is irrational and that we should conclude that statements of faith are merely the actions of small minds that do not wish to do the kind of work necessary to succeed. P.Z. makes the classic atheistic mistake when discussing issues of faith and spirituality. When confronted with an idea he either cannot handle or disagrees with, he merely changes the rules so that he does not have to. He argues from preclusion. He says that the supernatural cannot exist because its very existence does not fit into his limited, naturalistic worldview. The supernatural isn’t natural therefore it doesn’t exist. The astute observer will realize, of course, that it is quite irrational to assume that all of existence can be defined by our understanding of science, especially given the fact that scientists themselves claim there is a whole lot out there we just don’t understand. This kind of thinking requires a great deal of – oh, the irony – faith.

It’s easy to call yourself the tallest man in the world if you limit your definition of humanity to those people who are your height and shorter.

Don’t get me wrong. I actually agree with some of what Dr. Myers has to say. I don’t like the idea that politicians must pander to certain sections of religious society in order to get elected. I also believe that people quite often rely on faith as a crutch and refuse to think about things deeply. There’s a quote in the Bible somewhere that says as much, too, I think. It says (and I’m paraphrasing here) “Why are you still messing with this easy stuff. You should have moved onto meatier things a long time ago. Get moving!” I don’t like the big Bang argument that goes like this: “God said it and BANG, it happened.” This type of thinking severely limits human understanding and it cheapens everyone as a whole.

This does not mean that we should discount all faith in every situation, only those which are clearly irrational. This, of course, begs the question. What is rational? This is the position he should have argued. P.Z. obviously has some issues with people who believe in God. He thinks it’s irrational, but rather than explain the distinction between the kind of faith required to accept something that is irrational and the kind of faith it takes to believe something that is completely rational and yet not proven beyond a shadow of a doubt, he assumes all faith is obviously counter to standard logic, refuses to address those things he finds irrational about Christianity or any kind of religion for that matter, calls those who are open about their faith some nasty names, and moves on. In short, he sidesteps the argument because he lacks the mental cajones to engage in the debate.

He says that faith is a “hole in the brain,” but I wonder if he believes the same of his own.

Friday Morning

It’s Friday morning and I can’t work. It’s not that I am incapable. It’s just that I really don’t want to do what I’m supposed to do today. All I want to do is sit here at my desk, surf the Internet and listen to Common through the fat headphones I found in the pile of crap my predecessor left when she moved on to other things.

I’ve never been much of a fan of rap and r&b, mostly because I’ve held strong to the belief that if you’ve heard one person scream about “bitches and ho’s” you’ve heard them all. This album is a bit different, though. Through the first few Mingus-inspired measures of the title song “Be,” to the inclusion of Umar bin Hassan from The Last Poets on “The Corner”, it’s a solid album, and it makes me wonder if there is more to the genre than what is commercially successful. It makes me wonder if there is a whole school of rappers out in the same vein as Nas, Mos Def, and muMs, people whose lyrics are based more on poetry and real life than the standard mindless chant you hear on the radio.

Don’t worry. I don’t like most popular music, not just rap. I believe the plague of midnlessness exists in all genres. It dominates, even. My mom says I’m a music bigot, but I’m not. I just don’t listen to bad music. What’s wrong with that?

** ** ** **

It’s raining again today. It’s been raining nearly every day for the last week and half. I’ve always wanted to live in Seattle. Now it seems that I do, except I don't get to look at the ocean.

** ** ** **

I put up a poster for the play yesterday, and slowly but surely people stopped by to ask what it was. I told them it was a play I had written and that even though I am a terrible actor, I’m going to actually be IN the play. I told them they were all welcome to attend, if they like, but that I cannot be held responsible for the sudden and violent urge to vomit after listening to me warble like a three headed chicken onstage. They laughed and said that, after my reading of Young Goodman Browne a few weeks ago, they were sure I’d do fine.

I warned them. That’s all I can do, really.

** ** ** **

If you’re having a bad day, watch this and smile.

City of Boulder, CO To Institute Newspeak

Citizens encouraged to turn in neighbors for telling bad jokes. "Finally we have the freedom of controlled language," say city leaders.

From the Denver Post, by David Harsanyi:

There's a famous joke that goes like this: What's the difference between a Rottweiler and a Jewish mother? Eventually, the Rottweiler lets go.

Now, some Jews may find that joke offensive. I don't. But if you're insulted, and you live in Boulder, you're in luck. Soon enough, you may be able to report me to the authorities.

Tuesday, the Boulder City Council will take up the matter of allocating public funding for a "hate hotline," which would give residents an opportunity to report incidents in which Boulderites use tactless language.

...

So, it seems that since purifying our thoughts is still beyond technology's reach, Boulder will now attempt to achieve politically correct speech codes in other ways.

The council should realize, however ugly it may be, Americans still have the constitutional right to be racist, homophobic, Jew-hating or even to make bad jokes - as anyone who's heard the one about the redneck who invented the ejection seat on the helicopter can tell you.

Round them up and send them to the Ministry of Love. Maybe they'll lose their minds when they run into Michael Palin wearing a creepy baby mask

Peanuts and Cracker Jacks

This post is going to be about baseball, just so you know.

When the season started, I was skeptical. The Cincinnati Reds haven’t had a good team in almost 6 years and they haven’t threatened to have a serious shot at post season play in over a decade. They have a good offense, sure, and they have had a few decent pitchers over the years, but for the past couple of seasons they seem to have lacked that extra “something” that turns a good team into a great team.

The Reds have done well this season, but the question of legitimacy has sat at the back of my mind throughout all of it. They’ve started well a couple of times, and one season they even made it to the All Star break in first place. But each year they fall apart. They loose a couple of close games, they loose a couple more, and before you know it management has traded your favorite players to Pittsburgh for a bag of Doritos and a six pack of Iron City Ale (which sucks, by the way).

Last night the Reds’ de facto ace, Bronson Arroyo, was on the mound and he was stellar. He pitched eight innings of shutout baseball with 8 strikeouts and only 1 or 2 walks. He got a little wild in the eighth inning, so they took him out in the ninth and sent in the closer, David Weathers, with a one run lead. He promptly gave up a run to send the game into extra innings.

The Reds were deep into the bullpen with their fourth pitcher by the eleventh inning, and things weren’t good. White gave up a homerun to Nick Johnson, and the infield followed that up with a series of blunders that let the Washington Nationals take a 4-1 lead into the bottom of the ninth.

It was getting late and I was tired, so I went to bed without watching the bottom of the eleventh. There was no way they could pull it out, I thought. The Reds were doomed. That’s it. Game over. Zip up your fly.

So, imagine my surprise when I checked the newspaper this morning and saw that the Reds came through in the bottom of the inning to win 5-4. The winning hit was a three run homerun by Ken Griffey Jr. who, before last night, had been on the disabled list for over a month. I imagine it was very exciting.

The Reds are certainly not the best team in baseball, and they do have a lot of questions; most notably the bullpen. But I’m beginning to believe that they finally have the confidence it takes to win. It probably doesn’t mean anything to you, but it does to me.

It’s a nice feeling.

A Strange Thing

A funny thing just happened. I walked across the street to visit my drug dealer (aka the people who sell Diet Mountain Dew and Orbitz cheweing gum, which I use to mask my Tourette's-induced facial tic), and on the way back I heard the whistling solo from the song "Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard" by Paul Simon. I was reminded of the scene in The Royal Tenennbaums where Gene Hackman's character at the kids dart across a busy New York street, enjoying the warmth of a fun summer day. I had the sudden urge to dart out inot traffic and put my cares to the wind. Just then a city bus blasted through the intersection in front of me at no less than 50 miles per hour.

It's a good thing I'm not impulsive.

Addendum:
Pagoda. Where's my havelina?

Pointless Essay number (previous plus one): Abortion Ideology

I recently discussed the issue of abortion with somebody, and I was left with the distinct impression that he had made up his mind about me and my opinions and my reasons for holding the opinions that I do well before the conversation started. I suspect he had made up his mind about me well before he even met me. In response to this person, all I have to say about abortion is this:

*** *** *** *** *** ***

Quick. Tell me your opinions on abortion. Go ahead. Right now. Tell me. Are you pro-life or pro-choice? Pro-death or anti-choice? Which is it? Make up your mind right now and tell me. Quickly. Let me know. It’s easy. All you have to do is say whether you think abortion ends a life or whether you believe it is just a ball of lifeless flesh that a woman should be able to get rid of without provocation from outside influences. It’s a simple decision, really. Do you believe that killing babies is ok or do you want to force women into pregnant servitude? It’s not a big deal. Just make up your mind which camp you want to be in and relay that information to me so I can conveniently compartmentalize your entire thought process into a simple box which I will lovingly and gently smash into teeny tiny little pieces for being the exact polar opposite of everything I believe. You are wrong, whichever decision you make, and I will ridicule you forever for your stupidity and heartlessness and small mindedness. So make your decision. Go ahead. But remember, whichever decision you make, it is wrong. Because you are a bad person no matter who you are, and I don’t really care about abortion, women’s rights, the life of the child, the people involved, the emotional impact, or the far reaching societal consequences of this momentous decision. All I care about is how much I hate you. So make your decision. And do it quickly.

There is a lot more blood to spill after yours.

The Atheist Test

It's not exactly true, but there are parts of it that are dead on. ..

The Pyrrhonian
The results are in, and it appears that you have scored 44%...
Quietly confident and aloof, the Pyrrhonian recognises that religions exist and that people subscribe to them, but manages to keep well out of it all. Pyrrhonians came to the realisation long ago that all matters of faith are beyond the scope of reason or argument, and thus retains a clear-headed skeptical approach to religion in general. They refuse to place belief in anything for which there is no proof, and regard the majority of theistic claims as irreconcilable. Leading a life of tranquility undisturbed by religious concerns, the position of the Pyrrhonian is enviable, if a little frustrating for others at times.

Link: The Atheist Test written by chi_the_cynic on Ok Cupid, home of the 32-Type Dating Test

Decaffeinated Apocalypse

I was going to quit drinking caffeine today. I had it all planned out, too. I brought six of those Crystal Light drinks that were on sale at Kroger’s last night and I had a schedule worked out where I would have one bottle of Crystal Light and then refill it with water. This would last me most of the day, I calculated, and when I got home I would either drink a bottle of caffeine free pop or several glasses of water through dinner, play practice, and the remainder of the evening.

It’s a great plan, but it didn’t work out like I had hoped. You see, the bottle of Crystal Light was only 16oz as opposed to the 20oz bottles of Diet Mountain Dew to which I have become accustomed. I drank the first three at 8am, another one at 10 while I was at a meeting, and the last two I downed in conjunction with my lunch at noon. For the past two hours, I have sat at my desk, staring at the clock, thinking about how great it would be to have a cold bottle of Diet Mountain Dew to sip on. That’s when the headache started. It was small at first, just a tickle above my left eye, but it spread quickly across the left hemisphere of my now bald head where it currently sits, throbbing with each successive heartbeat.

So I went across the street to the Vietnamese Deli and purchased not one but two 20oz bottles of Diet Mountain Dew. The headache has lessened and if I’m lucky it will be gone by this evening, allowing me to focus on remembering my lines for the play (lest Abbie should decapitate me and feast on the remains).

All this caffeinated fun got me thinking. What would happen if there was a national emergency and suddenly we were without the niceties we currently enjoy? What if, for instance, all the power went out, or all the major us cities were destroyed in nuclear explosions? What if the Stay Puft Marshmallow man came for us all?

Those that weren’t killed in the original marshmallowy onslaught, would undoubtedly be confused for a week or so afterwards. Many would put aside their differences and band together as a community in a way similar to what we saw in the aftermath of 9/11 … for a time. Soon there would be food shortages. Soon there would be contaminated water. Soon the prescription medications would run out. Eventually, we’d all run out of our particular version of Diet Mountain Dew. And then were would we be?

I’m talking about disaster of biblical proportions. Old Testament, real, wrath of God type of stuff. Fire and brimstone coming down from the skies, rivers and seas boiling, forty years of darkness, earthquakes, volcanoes, the dead rising from the grave, human sacrifice, dogs and cats living together.

Mass Hysteria.

All because we’re too damn dependent upon Diet Mountain Dew. The sad thing is that I know all of this and yet I keep drinking the stuff. Because when you get right down to it, Diet Mountain Dew is one tasty beverage!

And my city would likely be incinerated anyway.