One of these things is not like the others...
A few years ago I hunted down everyone with my name on the Faceyspace and friended them - it seemed like the right thing to do at the time. I thought it might be cathartic but was sadly mistaken. I thought; why not explore exactly what is in a name? When you get right down the meat of it, the answer is: Nothing. Nothing is in a name, these people are hardly me. Kudos to them.
Odds are they won't rupture a spleen or perform a wedding. They won't ever work in TV or play music in front of a thousand people. They might start a blog, but it won't be any good. They are on a different path. They might find happiness or instigate social change... but I suppose that's beside the point.
There have been countless times when I have been tricked by the Faceyspace into thinking I like something that I know in my heart that I do not. Is someone sneaking onto my account or is it one of the others?
Of the collective me there is a football player, a regular dude, and a German. I think I have the most in common with the Kraut. Although I cannot understand the Deutsch of his posts, I like to imagine he has a brilliant sense of humor and is a real mind for the times.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Monday, November 29, 2010
Get Hypnotized
And now for the hypnosis...
Good, you're sitting. Relax. Let your mind wander. The red tension melts away and becomes yellow, then a light baby blue. Imagine my calm, soft voice. Now I want you to slowly count backwards from twenty. Slowly - nineteen, eighteen, seventeen... sixteen, fifteen, fourteen... very good. Your eyelids are heavy, deep breath. Thirteen, twelve... breathe. Eleven, ten, imagine your eyes closed. The weight of your mind drifts away like a feather on the wind, evaporating into the ether. You're doing well. The taste of warm bread. Nine, eight... seven, six. Deep breath. Fluffy clouds. Warm sun. Easy... five, four, three... two, one. Your life is beginning. Blue skies, fields of golden wheat... grasshoppers humming. You are totally at ease, your mind is free, empty. The next time you see me, you will buy me a beer. Great, you've done good. You feel refreshed, relaxed, invigorated.
Good, you're sitting. Relax. Let your mind wander. The red tension melts away and becomes yellow, then a light baby blue. Imagine my calm, soft voice. Now I want you to slowly count backwards from twenty. Slowly - nineteen, eighteen, seventeen... sixteen, fifteen, fourteen... very good. Your eyelids are heavy, deep breath. Thirteen, twelve... breathe. Eleven, ten, imagine your eyes closed. The weight of your mind drifts away like a feather on the wind, evaporating into the ether. You're doing well. The taste of warm bread. Nine, eight... seven, six. Deep breath. Fluffy clouds. Warm sun. Easy... five, four, three... two, one. Your life is beginning. Blue skies, fields of golden wheat... grasshoppers humming. You are totally at ease, your mind is free, empty. The next time you see me, you will buy me a beer. Great, you've done good. You feel refreshed, relaxed, invigorated.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
The Story of Thanksgiving
Have a seat, I am going to tell you the story of the first Thanksgiving...
A long time ago, several boatloads of Pennsylvania Dutch set sail from Europe on a spirit quest to Mecca, as pilgrims tend to do. Due to a grievous navigational error, instead of the Middle East they ended up in a land without spices - America. Or as the natives called it: The United Tribes of Birds and Cats and the Fruit of the Land.
These Amish folk were quite hungry after their long and harrowing journey. They were relieved to find new friends in the Natives, whom they called Indians, who were willing to help them out with food and shelter. Upon being described as Indians, the Natives quickly corrected them, gently but firmly pointing out that they were not from India. The Amish then called them Native Americans, but that was also discarded on the grounds that there was no such thing as America yet. They all eventually settled on Injuns and moved forward.
A large feast was had to welcome the Amish folk, who regaled the Natives with tales about how they belonged to a very prude sect of Christianity. It was a glorious feast with good times had by all... it was so much fun that they all decided that they should hang out again some time.
That time soon came when the Amish knocked on the Natives' door and said; "Oh, hey. It's us, the Pilgrims. From before... remember that dinner party? Right, well we were thinking about making a country with cities and towns out of all this wilderness, wanna come?"
The Natives refused on the basis that the land belongs to the land and cannot be owned by people, and tried to convince the Amish of this. This angered the mighty Amish, who, in retaliation, bombed the Natives with poison blankets and corralled them into large fenced-in areas called Reservations (essentially little pockets of Native people walled off from the rest of society and governed under different control - kind of like the Vatican, only with more casinos and less Popes).
So every year we reenact that meal not only to pay tribute to those brave Pennsylvania Dutch who made cities and towns out of all this wilderness, but also to rub it in to all the Natives who's land was stolen.
A long time ago, several boatloads of Pennsylvania Dutch set sail from Europe on a spirit quest to Mecca, as pilgrims tend to do. Due to a grievous navigational error, instead of the Middle East they ended up in a land without spices - America. Or as the natives called it: The United Tribes of Birds and Cats and the Fruit of the Land.
These Amish folk were quite hungry after their long and harrowing journey. They were relieved to find new friends in the Natives, whom they called Indians, who were willing to help them out with food and shelter. Upon being described as Indians, the Natives quickly corrected them, gently but firmly pointing out that they were not from India. The Amish then called them Native Americans, but that was also discarded on the grounds that there was no such thing as America yet. They all eventually settled on Injuns and moved forward.
A large feast was had to welcome the Amish folk, who regaled the Natives with tales about how they belonged to a very prude sect of Christianity. It was a glorious feast with good times had by all... it was so much fun that they all decided that they should hang out again some time.
That time soon came when the Amish knocked on the Natives' door and said; "Oh, hey. It's us, the Pilgrims. From before... remember that dinner party? Right, well we were thinking about making a country with cities and towns out of all this wilderness, wanna come?"
The Natives refused on the basis that the land belongs to the land and cannot be owned by people, and tried to convince the Amish of this. This angered the mighty Amish, who, in retaliation, bombed the Natives with poison blankets and corralled them into large fenced-in areas called Reservations (essentially little pockets of Native people walled off from the rest of society and governed under different control - kind of like the Vatican, only with more casinos and less Popes).
So every year we reenact that meal not only to pay tribute to those brave Pennsylvania Dutch who made cities and towns out of all this wilderness, but also to rub it in to all the Natives who's land was stolen.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Reflections on Four Loko
I had just finished the last sip of my first Four Loko when the spiders began climbing out of the sleeves of my red flannel shirt - thousands of them...
My first mistake was choosing the purple flavor. The first sip was offensive, worse than any Mad Dog 20/20, and hit my tongue swiftly and without remorse like a saccharin toilet bomb. It took me an hour and a half just to pour it into my belly, during which time I felt little effect. It was immediately following the last sip that all of my motor skills simply fell away - I barely had time to put the empty can down.
My second mistake, in my best estimate, was the five or so beers I drank after it. But as with any good mistake, I took something meaningful and wise away from it. I discovered that when you mix just enough quality IPA with a can of Miller High Life, you get a different animal all together; a strange hybrid beer with a fantastic flavor and excellent mouth feel. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to replicate the results, so for all I know it could have all just been a mirage created by the Malt Liquor.
I suppose my third and final mistake of the evening was riding that unicorn home. It was a rough ride for sure, and horribly cold.
My first mistake was choosing the purple flavor. The first sip was offensive, worse than any Mad Dog 20/20, and hit my tongue swiftly and without remorse like a saccharin toilet bomb. It took me an hour and a half just to pour it into my belly, during which time I felt little effect. It was immediately following the last sip that all of my motor skills simply fell away - I barely had time to put the empty can down.
My second mistake, in my best estimate, was the five or so beers I drank after it. But as with any good mistake, I took something meaningful and wise away from it. I discovered that when you mix just enough quality IPA with a can of Miller High Life, you get a different animal all together; a strange hybrid beer with a fantastic flavor and excellent mouth feel. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to replicate the results, so for all I know it could have all just been a mirage created by the Malt Liquor.
I suppose my third and final mistake of the evening was riding that unicorn home. It was a rough ride for sure, and horribly cold.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Body Scan Hot Pocket
Introducing the Freedom Pocket.
Nestle International has teamed up with the L3 Communications (makers of the TSA approved ProVision airport body scanner) to bring you the cutting edge in secure foods - the Hot Pocket brand Freedom Pocket. The Freedom Pocket utilizes the otherwise wasted millimeter radio waves of the ProVision to cook the sandwich in the supplied sleeve, all while your body is being imaged by the TSA.
Simply remove the Freedom Pocket from the plastic wrapping, slide it into the supplied crisping sleeve and place the sandwich in your pocket before your turn at the body scanner. By the time you leave the security check point, you'll have a fragrant, hot and tasty, ready-to-eat Freedom Pocket to enjoy.
Due to the unique nature of the technology used to cook the Freedom Pocket, the only flavors currently available are Siesta Rice & Beans and Jazzy Jamaican Jerk Chicken. Nestle is dedicated to developing new and interesting flavors for the Freedom Pocket line of Hot Pockets, but due to TSA regulations the following flavors are considered a National Security Risk and will not be available: Curry Chicken, Steak, Broccoli & Cheese, Ham & Cheese, Avocado Chicken, Korean Barbecue, Breakfast Egg & Bacon, Turkey, Venison and Tuna Melt.
Nestle International has teamed up with the L3 Communications (makers of the TSA approved ProVision airport body scanner) to bring you the cutting edge in secure foods - the Hot Pocket brand Freedom Pocket. The Freedom Pocket utilizes the otherwise wasted millimeter radio waves of the ProVision to cook the sandwich in the supplied sleeve, all while your body is being imaged by the TSA.
Simply remove the Freedom Pocket from the plastic wrapping, slide it into the supplied crisping sleeve and place the sandwich in your pocket before your turn at the body scanner. By the time you leave the security check point, you'll have a fragrant, hot and tasty, ready-to-eat Freedom Pocket to enjoy.
Due to the unique nature of the technology used to cook the Freedom Pocket, the only flavors currently available are Siesta Rice & Beans and Jazzy Jamaican Jerk Chicken. Nestle is dedicated to developing new and interesting flavors for the Freedom Pocket line of Hot Pockets, but due to TSA regulations the following flavors are considered a National Security Risk and will not be available: Curry Chicken, Steak, Broccoli & Cheese, Ham & Cheese, Avocado Chicken, Korean Barbecue, Breakfast Egg & Bacon, Turkey, Venison and Tuna Melt.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Simmer Down Economics
No more bad town...
I just invented the answer to all our economic woes - a way to redistribute wealth in a meaningful way... and it's brilliance lies in it's simplicity. I propose a yearly compensation cap of $5,000,000 for everyone. It is an undeniable truth that anyone who is being compensated more than five million dollars in a calendar year is probably doing something either very illegal or patently un-American.
I shall call my prophecy Simmer Down Economics.
Here's how it works: If any person is compensated during a tax year a total value exceeding five million dollars, they will be brought up on Federal charges, black listed, and the standard punishment of such an instance will be a 200% tax on every dollar over five million (example: someone making $6,000,000 would subject to an immediate tax of $2,000,000, then be taxed at the standard rate for the remaining four million). That covers Americans living and paying taxes in the US, with one or more compensatory source equaling a value greater than $5,000,000. It is important to note that because the calculation is based on compensation and not actual pay, it limits other gimmies like stock options and private jets.
To cover foreign executives, any company compensating any individual in a value greater than five million dollars will be brought up on federal charges, be forced to endure a lengthy and very public flogging, be subject to potential asset seizing and be on the hook for no less than 200% of the total compensation (example: a foreign executive making $6,000,000 would cost the company hefty legal fees as well as an additional $12,000,000 in taxes).
The genius of the plan is that by forcing the richest companies to limit the amount of compensation they distribute to their top-tier employees, the companies will have these assets freed up to do any of the following: pass savings onto consumers, pay lower level employees more, or spend on capital equipment and/or research and development - all of which stimulate the economy. It's like trickle down economics, but without all the offensive math and backroom slap and tickle.
Worst case scenario? Companies still pay execs exorbitant amounts of money, and they all get taxed painfully, thus providing funding for such frivolity as education, heath care, roads... maybe paying off the National Debt. Making America better by holding the greed mongers accountable.
I just invented the answer to all our economic woes - a way to redistribute wealth in a meaningful way... and it's brilliance lies in it's simplicity. I propose a yearly compensation cap of $5,000,000 for everyone. It is an undeniable truth that anyone who is being compensated more than five million dollars in a calendar year is probably doing something either very illegal or patently un-American.
I shall call my prophecy Simmer Down Economics.
Here's how it works: If any person is compensated during a tax year a total value exceeding five million dollars, they will be brought up on Federal charges, black listed, and the standard punishment of such an instance will be a 200% tax on every dollar over five million (example: someone making $6,000,000 would subject to an immediate tax of $2,000,000, then be taxed at the standard rate for the remaining four million). That covers Americans living and paying taxes in the US, with one or more compensatory source equaling a value greater than $5,000,000. It is important to note that because the calculation is based on compensation and not actual pay, it limits other gimmies like stock options and private jets.
To cover foreign executives, any company compensating any individual in a value greater than five million dollars will be brought up on federal charges, be forced to endure a lengthy and very public flogging, be subject to potential asset seizing and be on the hook for no less than 200% of the total compensation (example: a foreign executive making $6,000,000 would cost the company hefty legal fees as well as an additional $12,000,000 in taxes).
The genius of the plan is that by forcing the richest companies to limit the amount of compensation they distribute to their top-tier employees, the companies will have these assets freed up to do any of the following: pass savings onto consumers, pay lower level employees more, or spend on capital equipment and/or research and development - all of which stimulate the economy. It's like trickle down economics, but without all the offensive math and backroom slap and tickle.
Worst case scenario? Companies still pay execs exorbitant amounts of money, and they all get taxed painfully, thus providing funding for such frivolity as education, heath care, roads... maybe paying off the National Debt. Making America better by holding the greed mongers accountable.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Notes on the Top Hat Set
Don't you dare plug the hole in this silly rowboat...
Somebody let the pigs out of the blanket. Yesterday I read this article by Matt Taibbi regarding the remaining paperwork on the banking crisis, swift justice, homelessness, bad financial instruments, etc... over on Rolling Stone and I think it's safe to say that we're all goners. With the high level of foreclosures due to anything-goes banking, the amount of bad credit that's out there... what can credit even mean anymore?
Remember the early 2000's, when the streets were flooded with men in Top Hats and Monocles, wearing Tuxedos, running around carrying big $ sacks? It felt like good times, but as we all know those sacks weren't filled with gold coins... it was just a mix of old trash, fingernail clippings and shit. But the bags were air tight, we couldn't smell it.
Now, here we are, some ten years later and we can see them through high powered binoculars... they're shoveling something - but what? Looking out from the ridge into the Great Quarry, there's a single black desk in the middle. Paperwork is scattered everywhere. Dozens of men in very nice suits are digging furiously, some with shovels, others with bloody fingers. They're burying something.
We were goners the minute banks started selling things.
Somebody let the pigs out of the blanket. Yesterday I read this article by Matt Taibbi regarding the remaining paperwork on the banking crisis, swift justice, homelessness, bad financial instruments, etc... over on Rolling Stone and I think it's safe to say that we're all goners. With the high level of foreclosures due to anything-goes banking, the amount of bad credit that's out there... what can credit even mean anymore?
Remember the early 2000's, when the streets were flooded with men in Top Hats and Monocles, wearing Tuxedos, running around carrying big $ sacks? It felt like good times, but as we all know those sacks weren't filled with gold coins... it was just a mix of old trash, fingernail clippings and shit. But the bags were air tight, we couldn't smell it.
Now, here we are, some ten years later and we can see them through high powered binoculars... they're shoveling something - but what? Looking out from the ridge into the Great Quarry, there's a single black desk in the middle. Paperwork is scattered everywhere. Dozens of men in very nice suits are digging furiously, some with shovels, others with bloody fingers. They're burying something.
We were goners the minute banks started selling things.
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