The Vitriolic Monkey

Utter. Fucking. Genius.

2006-04-10T21:17:00.000-04:00

And you thought you saw the raw, uncensored, uncut version of 2003's State of the Union Address?! Think again, meager Prole! You saw what the military industrial complex WANTED you to see! Here, finally, in its original format, is our batshit insane leader's speech advising us that (and I quote) "trusting in the sanity and the restraint of the United States is not an option."

We failed to listen. Now we're pretty much fucked.

First, watch the original.

Then, go home and die. Especially if your name is Khamenei.

The Pattern Continues

2006-03-31T11:56:00.000-05:00

Once again, I apologize for my lackluster performance recently... You see, between the new job and trying to move, I've been busy from dawn 'till dusk doing crap. Most of it sucks. This new job makes it rather difficult to slack off, too. Which makes posting more difficult than ever.

Perhaps once Dawn and I actually move out of our house and get a new one, I'll get righ back up on that silicon horse and start writing again. However, I have a sneaking suspicion that this may be the beginning of the end. Like many others in the blogosphere, I am beginning to feel that this thing that I started for shits and giggles, on a lark, is slowly morphing in to a fat albatross necklace. It's becoming more and more of a burden with each post. So with that, I will say that hopefully one day I shall return triumphant... but until then, I bid you adieu fair people.

Lemme tell ya, moving sucks. peace in the east.

-stevo

Musical Menagerie

2006-02-25T21:16:00.000-05:00

If you were a hippopotamus and you had noodles on your back, what would you do?

Why, sing about it, of course! Enjoy the tune. It's ever so catchy...

Another Lame Excuse

2006-02-21T22:22:00.000-05:00

OK, so I haven't posted anything "real" in, like, forever or some junk. First, I blamed it on the trip to Ireland. Then I tried the food poisoning angle. Next, the "new job" excuse. Finally, I threw my Trump Card: "I'm moving, and shit's hella hectic". All are acutally true, but none can truly justify over a full week without a post of any substance. And for this, I offer yet another measly, flimsy apology. The reality of the matter is that I'm suffering from a severe bout of ... what, blogger's block? Well, yeah, I guess. I just don't feel like writing a damn thing, and considering I don't have an "editor", a "deadline" or any sort of paycheck hanging in the balance, I feel no real obligation to type a damn thing about what's going on in my life on this confounded, silly thing! It's odd how a thing I started as a lark and as a way to simply keep in practice with writing anything at all has become more of a monkey on my back than I'd ironically intended with such a name as "The Vitriolic Monkey." But a screaming, turd-tossing simian nuisance this blog has indeed become. Particularly when one factors in the E. Coli, new job, vacation and house-selling.

But I suppose I shan't give up on it completely. After all, I've had some good times here. So I guess the least I could do might be to post a humorous picture from one of my many recent, entertaining exploits in Dublin, right? Sure, why not? So, with minimal further ado... here goes. This picture is of a condom machine in a men's bathroom in a pub in North Dublin called The Brazen Head. It's a famous old place; in fact, it is purportedly the oldest pub in Dublin. Apparently there's been a drinking establishment on this site since the 1100's. Anyway, see if you can determine anything "funny" about this particular condom machine. I, for one, found it quite humorous.

And let me just tell you that capturing a picture of just about anything in a men's toilet anywhere is a brave, courageous thing. One tends to look extremely sketchy hanging about next to a urinal with a digital camera in one's hand no matter who one is, and no matter what one is purportedly doing.

Until next time, folks, keep it real, and for God's sake, steer clear of those damned fade condoms!

My Apologies...

2006-02-13T20:16:00.000-05:00

I feel so negligent... Please, allow me to explain. Between a jaunt off to Ireland for a few days, a touch of the old food poisoning, a foot and a half of snow and a brand new (old) job, I've been a bit... distracted. And therefore, I have been a little lax on the ol' blog front. So allow me to regroup, and I'll regale you with tales of Caribbean cavorts and Irish Intrigue to tittilate even the most torpid of tastes! Soon, my pretties... soon...

Do It Yourself T-Shirt Folding Machine

2006-02-02T12:40:00.000-05:00

Thank god for the innernets. Here's how pathetic marriage has made me: I got inordinately excited, nay -- giddy -- upon viewing this video. Where would we be without this here Innernets? Swingin' from da trees, prolly. Or grunting at each other in a cave somewhere in France.

Seriously, I'm gonna fold mad amounts of laundry after work today, while I listen to someone read Dostoevsky to me.

What a Cool Idea!

2006-02-01T11:57:00.000-05:00

LibriVox is a website chock full of "Podcasts" of classic literature! And they're free (read: public domain)! Finally, I can listen to something worthwhile on my monstrously long commute to work every day! They've got podcasts of Dostoevsky's Notes from Underground, Conrad's The Secret Agent, Alice in Wonderland, even Frankenstein and A Connectiuct Yankee in King Arthur's Court!!! I'm more excited than words can say. So happy, in fact, that my joy overrides my usual compulsion to accompany every post with a witty and somehow appropriate picture. I'm gonna start with Notes from Underground as it was the first Dostoevsky book I ever attempted, though sadly I did not make it through... which is pathetic, cuz the very next Dost book I cracked was The Brothers Karamazov, and I tore through that sucker! I can't wait till they get THAT one on LibriVox...

To me, Dostoevsky = Wicked Old School Russian Rock And Roll Superstar

Insanity, Meet My Friend Genius... Now Go Make Babies

2006-01-26T11:48:00.000-05:00

If the above scenario were to be manifested and Insanity were to actually hit it off really well with Genius, they would probably make a baby and name him Reinhard Engels. Why Reinhard Englels, you ask? Well, it takes someone named Reinhard Englels to come up with the thoroughly crazy -- yet strangely pragmatic -- idea of the Shovelglove. It's basically a sledge hammer wrapped in an old sweater. What good is a sledge hammer wrapped in an old sweater, you may then ask? Well I should hope you would ask this, at least...

The answer is infuriatingly simple: exercise. Yes, friends, keeping in shape is as simple as hefting a sledge hammer around in the comfort of your own home. I must admit, reading through this instructional site the first time made me feel a little like an Imperial Walker getting smashed to bits by Ewoks on the Moon of Endor with that nifty swinging log trick.

But the more I read through Mr. Engels' raving lunacy, the more he endeared me to his bizarre workout. In the end, watching the videos sealed the deal for me. Though hilarious nicknames for the motions he describes, like Hoisting the Sack or Stoking the Oven certainly had a bit of an influence as well, I guess.

He demonstrates these exercises with such earnestness, it's hard not to like this guy. And to be quite honest, it looks as if his efforts have paid off to some extent. He certainly doesn't look out of shape in the slightest. As crazy as Mr. Engels seems, I think he's on to something. Why should I pay 50 bucks or more a month to watch stinky gorilla men, anorexic basketcases or awkward old people slave away on artificial motion machines when I could toss around a hunk of metal on a stick in the comfort of my own home? Best of all, I can do these things in front of my TV, so when Donald Rumsfled comes on the tube trying to defend torturing prisoners, spying on Americans and depriving soldiers of sufficient protective gear in a war zone, I can simply Stoke His Head In with my exercise device!

Hasslehoff: Addicted!!!

2006-01-23T12:28:00.000-05:00

To what, you ask? Why, he's hooked on a feeling, of course!

This video made me feel even more crazy than I know I already am. The godless German Communists are behind this, I just know it. Why, Hoff, why?

Must bathe eyeballs now. With a propane torch.

WTF of the Day

2006-01-18T13:14:00.000-05:00

Bling H2O?! I'd buy it just for the hot ass on their site. If it didn't cost THIRTY EIGHT GODDAMN DOLLARS PER BOTTLE!!!

And as a bonus, diamond shaped ice cubes. Get it? Ice ice?

More Tobago Cayes and Union Island...

2006-01-16T17:42:00.000-05:00

We woke up in the Tobago Cayes almost alone. There might have been two or three other sailboats in the lagoon, but by and large, we were the only humans around. Captain Mickey ushered us to the shore of a small, uninhabited island named Jamesby, which was supposedly populated mainly by iguanas. I saw one, but he was a quick little bugger, and he scurried away before I could snap a picture of him.

Anyway, the island was rocky and overgrown with crazy pointy plants. There were cacti, but there were also these strange, broadleaf plants with spikes covering their leaves. A few of our companions had unfortunate run-ins with these leaves and bore the marks of the experience for the rest of the trip. They must have had some sort of toxin in the spikes, as the wounds looked like bee stings, and were apparently as painful. The top of Jamesby, aside from deadly plants and illusory lizards, was breathtaking. Here, you can see the view from the promontory looking down on our home for the week:

The island in the distance is actually where they filmed the scene in Pirates of the Caribbean where Jack Sparrow asks "But what about the rum?!" After she set it all ablaze to try to get the attention of a passing ship. I wanted to go to that island (whose name I unfortunately forget) but apparently it's one of the Cayes' most inaccessible places, necessitating an entire day of sailing to reach. I imagine that's one of the reasons they chose it to film that particular scene. Actually, I learned that exactly one year ago (January 2005) they finished filming the second and third installment of Pirates of the Caribbean almost entirely in the Grenadines! Damn! A year late! I could've totally been an extra. I'm very well versed in piratology. So I'm like, a natural. Or something.

Anyway, back to pics. Here's a shot of the step-brother-in-law sitting on a rock at the top of the island. I've no idea how he got there, as the whole peak of the island was really inhospitable, and he was pretty far away. But it's a cool shot, so I figured I'd share:

All in all, it was quite an incredible hike. The island was stark and beautiful at the same time. But eventually we had to leave to make our way to Union Island to refuel the boat and get new water. While we were docked, we explored a supersketchy little town called Clifton Harbour. Apparently the Grenadines used to be a huge exporter of bananas, but somehow the Dole and Chiquita corporations have very recently made that particular agricultural pursuit particularly unprofitable for the residents of these islands, so they had to find another crop to take its place. Another thing that was apparent to me was that one specific crop seems to grow quite readily in the climate these islands inhabit. When set ablaze, this crop has a very distinctive aroma and effect on the human mind. Both said aroma and said effect were alarmingly prominent in this bustling little town. Numerous merchants boasted far more than the traditional T-shirts and Island Rum for sale in their tiny ramshackle lean-tos, albeit not overtly. I saw several bricks of some kind of unidentifiable herbaceous material which I assume was one and the same with the crop I spoke of bearing the distinctive aroma and effect on the human mind. The inhabitants of this settlement seemed to be rather heavy cigarette smokers, though the American cigarette manufacturers did not seem to hold the same market share in this town as they do in the States. These people prefer to roll their own -- rather large -- cigarettes.

OK, moving on from thinly veiled references to the recreational activities of this particular nationality of islander, I thought I'd expand on the "sketchiness" of Clifton Harbour, as I characterized it earlier. I never felt myself in imminent physical danger, though there was one decidedly insane man wandering the streets with an enormous machete, chanting to himself and occasionally sitting down, pulling down his pants and toying around with parts of himself that most folks with a firm grasp on reality keep covered and safe from machetes. Particularly machetes in the hands of verifiable maniacs. Though I suppose he could really only handle one at a time. I didn't pause to analyze this odd little distraction, though, as it was... slightly offputting.

On the cooler side of events, we found a "secret garden" which was NOT of the variety you might expect, keeping in mind the agricultural bent of this little isle. It was a path behind a tiny roadside bar lined with bamboo and artwork leading to a tiny and out-of-the-way art gallery called the Castello Art Centre. If you click the link, check out the "bars" section of the site to see just how tiny the bars on this island are. Anyway, the art gallery featured works by an artiste named Jutta aus Berlin. She paints on actual sails, and the work is at once primal and exuberant, though the medium she uses probably merits owning a work far more than her talent as an artiste.

At the end of the evening, we went to a restaurant called "Restaurant The West Indies". It was a small place off of a very dark alley on the far side of town, but once we entered the restaurant, it opened into an expansive, grass roofed cabana. Unfortunately, upon landing at Clifton Harbour, I neglected to take virtually any pictures at all, as I was so taken aback by the stark difference between this island and the stop at the previous inhabited island, which featured the houses of only the richest and most pretientious of Hollywood's and Dubai's elite. I really wish I'd documented this island more, as it really was remarkable. However, it did prepare me for a most incredible experience at our next island stop, Mayreau. I'll tell you ALL about that mystical wonderland next time...

Until then, Happy MLKJ Day! Fight the power!!!

Grenadines Day 2: From Mustique to the Tobago Cayes

2006-01-11T17:51:00.000-05:00

Monday morning we left Mustique for a long sail to the Tobago Cayes, a tiny group of uninhabited islands to the south. If I were in an airplane, looking down on them from above, they'd probably look like this:

But I was in a catamaran, so they looked more like this:

Anyway, on the sail over, the first mate told us that we'd be sailing through some choppy water, and if we like roller coasters, now would be a perfect time to sit on the front of the boat. I wasn't sure what she was talking about until we started heading straight into some really large looking waves. Everyone was in the back, where the galley and all that other nautical stuff was, and looking toward the front of the boat, we could see the entire prow plunge into the waves and rise up about ten feet above the water again and again. This looked exceedingly fun, so Clif (the brother-in-law) and I decided that we'd give it a go. I felt like I was in one of those ridiculous Peppermint Patty commercials or something. Or a rodeo, only instead of cows and mud there was a boat and the Caribbean. Or something. Either way, it was boatloads of fun (pun may or may not be intended, I have not yet decided) and everyone else was too afraid to give it a try. Of course, nobody could take any pictures, cuz our stupid digital camera isn't waterproof.

Well, someone was able to capture my ghostly whiteness after the rockin' boat slowed, and here's what it looked like:

Keep in mind, now, that all of Dawn's and my luggage was lost, save for our toiletries. So we were surviving on the ill-fitting garb of family. And I had to buy new shades. Which looked totally ridiculous, if you ask me. But you didn't so I'll stop making excuses.

Anyway, by the time we dropped anchor, most of us were half in the bag, and it wasn't until after dinner that someone grabbed the camera and started recording the assclownery that ensued. The MIL had brought along an arsenal of elf and santa hats for us to don as we serenaded the other boats around us with off key Christmas Carols. I promised I would NOT sing. But rum has the most curious effect on one's singing capabilities. I think I was channeling Liberace, guessing from this shot that was taken of me playing a quick round of "hide the thumb" with an unsuspecting brother in law:

From what little I remember, a catamaran quite close to ours applauded (I think it was applause) for a while, and then the captain stood on the prow of his boat holding a lit flare aloft, ostensibly in honor of our charming performance. Everything after that is pretty much lost on me due to the one way Rum Boulevard my esophagus had become.

THe next day we spent almost entirely in the Tobago Cayes, exploring and scuba diving. I shall regale you with stories of this misadventure in a mere... few days. Or something. I know, I know, I've been a bit remiss in my tending to this here blog... but ain't it worth it? I mean fo' real. Sheeit. Peace out for now, fellow simians and homonids.

A Morsel For Your Patience...

2006-01-09T09:38:00.000-05:00

I shall post the follow-up pictures from Day Two of my excape to paradise presently. You see, I was forced into menial labor by the slave driv... er... wife, all weekend, and therefore had no time to upload my exquisite photos OR to compose a pithy summary of the day's events.

Of course, I jest. All day Saturday was spent house-shopping, as our current domicile no longer fits our needs, both geographical and functional. It's a perfectly fine home, to be sure, but the lady's new job demands a commute from Central Jersey that is taxing on the soul and just plain exhausting. So we looked at houses all day in Southeastern PA. That was exciting. I'd never done something like that before, and sheesh... let me tell you, I am shocked and amazed how ... wrong it feels. Walking into these houses felt almost voyeuristic. Virtually none of the homes we saw were cleaned up and prepared for house shoppers to snoop around. As such, we could tell so much about each family just from all the junk they still had laying around. My favorite house, by far (and I wish ever so badly I'd brought my trusty digi-cam, cuz you guys seriously have to see this place to believe it) was a place viretually on the highway. The first indication that the inhabitants were ... interesting ... people was the pimped out Pontiac in the driveway. The thing had a hydraulic foil on the trunk, dual coffee-can sized exhausts that pointed upward at an angle and (here's the coup de grace) a jesus fish decal. The juxtaposition instantly put a hurtin' on my fragile little brain.

So with that experience as a hint of what was to come, we entered the house. The lower floor, where we entered, was nothing special, except for the enormous TV and goose-turn green shag carpet. So we went upstairs. That's when the enormity of this place and its contradictions hit me like a ton of bricks. I immediately saw a framed Thomas Kinkade painting hung on the most prominent wall of the room with track museum lighting illuminating it from above. Now, to understand my reaction to this abomination, you have to understand where Kincade and his army of mutant Orcs resides on my hierarchy of evil in this world. It's somewhere between violent crime and the room full of genetic "experiments" that Ripley entered in Alien Resurrection. That's the kind of revulsion I feel any time I see anything resembling a Kinkade-like touch. And here I am, face to face with a museum-fied and gaudily framed paean to the embodiment of all that is Bad Taste. I think I may have puked in my mouth a little bit right then. And I certainly wastn't prepared for the horror that awaited me.

I turned the corner into a very nice kitched fitted out with a huge granite countertop and ridiculously expensive-looking Corian sink. It was beautiful. And above it hung two prized -- and obviously proudly virgin -- Cracker Barrel Commemorative Cast Iron Skillets. Ohhhhh Kaaaaay. That's two for bad taste, one for inexplicable indications of wealth.

Turning back toward the shining Kinkade Altar, I realized that I'd missed a porcelain Thomas Kinkade commemorative clock ticking away beneath the painting upon a tiny table seemingly built expecially for it. Choking back more liquid revulsion, I passed by into the master bedroom. Upon seeing the terror that greeted me, splattered all over the poor, defenseless walls, I cried out in shock. Not only were the walls peppered with Kinkade prints (at least eight of them), but the wallpaper was Thomas Frickin' Kinkade wallpaper. Who in the name of all that is holy and divine, would ever plaster Thomas Kinkade wallpaper up on their bedroom wall? And for the love of God WHY??? I left it up to Dawn to recount to me the rest of the crimes against good taste that inhabited the room, as I blacked out then and there. After coming to, we entered the final room of the house, ostensibly the baby's room. Those walls bore the final straw of what my delicate will could tolerate: numerous Anne Geddes photos of babies in various ridiculous costumes. That was it. I needed out.

I couldn't even see the damn house through the haze of awful taste that polluted the entire place. I'm glad I saw it though, because before that, I couldn't for the life of me, figure out how the hell a no-talent hack like Thomas Kinkade could possibly stay in business. Now I know. He's independently financed by some inexplicably, independently wealthy blind man.

Photos soon, I promise!

PS - My apologies to anyone out there who actually likes Kinkade or Anne Geddes. But honestly, they're crap.

The Grenadines, Day 1: Mustique

2006-01-04T18:38:00.000-05:00

The Wife and I spent the week before Christmas this year with her family on a catamaran in the Windward Islands of the Caribbean. Her mother and stepfather took the whole family on vacation as a Christmas present to us. What a freakin' present! It was amazing, and I've decided to take you, my faithful and lovely readership, on a tour of this unbelievable little island chain. Virtually nobody has heard of The Grenadines because the big cruise ships don't frequent their shores. Like the British Virgin Islands, this archipelago is more of a sailing haven than a cruise ship destination, so very few of us up here in the US are familiar with them.

Anyway, our first stop on the tour is the Island of Mustique, home of ridiculously rich musicians (Mick Jagger, Shania Twain and David Bowie have all owned homes here, and you can rent most of them for the modest price of around $30,000 a week!!!) and Tommy Hilfiger. It's quite a nice island, but that's pretty much what you get when the rich and famous clobber each other to get a shot at living there, right?

Anyway, at the top of this island is a super pretentious, very expensive and hypersnobby little restaurant called Firefly. It's probably the nicest eating establishment I've ever seen, and priced to suit its beauty. Since sensitive superstar types tend to frequent it, they don't let cameras in, but since I'm very, very sneaky, I was able to snap a couple of pics. Unfortuanately, we were the only ones there, so I couldn't get any paparazzi shots; but that lent a really cool air of exclusivity to our visit that we probably wouldn't have had were we being stared down by the rich and famous. Anyway, here's the view from their picture window overlooking the western slope of the island:

There was also a really exclusive looking resort on the island called the Cotton Club. They had beautifully manicured grounds that you never see in "real life" Caribbean islands. But it was nice nonetheless. Here's a photo:

There was also a pond on the grounds that was carpeted in what looked to me like lotus flowers. If anyone has any info on whether these suckers were in fact from the Nelumbium family, please let me know. They sure were purdy! Witness:

Also, there were quite a few Red-Footed Tortoises (Geochelone carbonaria) ambling about the island. So many, in fact, that there was even a statue dedicated to them along one of the island's few roads. Apparently, the island is populated by hedonist tortoises. That's awesome.

Well, that's about it for the first day. It was interesting, and we ended the day by drinking lime daquiris at Basil's beachfront bar, which is apparently famous or something. They were a bit on the tart side for my taste, but I could see how they might be really refreshing on a superhot day.

Next, the Tobago Cayes and drunken Christmas Carolling!

Dust In The Wind...

2006-01-04T12:52:00.000-05:00

You're my Boy, Blue! Rest In Peace, Patrick Cranshaw, AKA Blue.

You were an inspiration to us all. Until you starred in Herbie: Fully Loaded. But we can forgive the minor transgressions, for you were Blue.

Evil Santa Pope

2005-12-30T08:49:00.000-05:00

Who elected Freddy Kreuger pope? At least this get-up is a throwback to the good old days of Santa, when he had an assistant named Black Peter, who would beat the crap outta naughty children, while the good ones got stuff.

This Ratzinger guy's no joke. And apparently, before he bought the farm, John Paul Vader taught this new Pope how to Force Choke. Here he is trying to administer the death grip to one of his pathetic minions who failed in whatever dastardly task was given him:

His form may be a little off, but give the dude a break! He's only been channeling God's commands for like 8 months! With practice, he'll be just as deadly as the last Pontiff was.

PS - Thanks to Chandira for inspiring this sacre-licious post! And for the nifty Popey Kreuger pic!

PPS - The hat is actually an official part of the Papal Getup (official terminology, by the way) called a camauro. Before Ratzy, the last pope to don one was Pope John the Twenty-Third! Like NBC says... The More You Know...

And I'm Back!!!

2005-12-27T15:12:00.000-05:00

I can hear the collective sigh of relief heave and ripple through the blogosphere. Fret not, kiddies! Uncle Devo has returned to protect you from the terrifying depths of ennui to which you've undoubtedly sunk without his elegant commentary upon life and its various and sundry annoyances.

Apologies for the unexpected hiatus. I actually DID expect it, I just neglected to warn of its impending nature as the date of my departure approached. Again, my apologies. I've been in the Grenadines, a tiny chain of Caribbean islands south of St. Vincent, and north of Grenada. I shall of course post pictures as soon as I've voodoo-ed them out of my fancy schmancy digital camera and into the heart of Internetia.

And my Christmas was wonderful, too. My brother got fake dog poo. It really doesn't get any better than that. Actually, I lied. It does. The best gift ever was from me to the wife. It's a hand-crafted egg white separator. Behold:

God, I love Christmas. And all it's heretical commercialism.

I just puked in my mouth a little...

2005-12-15T13:01:00.000-05:00

When I saw this on BoingBoing...

Brass Knuckle implants. Apparently, "extreme piercer" Joe Amato also pioneered the supremely messed up practice of eyelid piercing.

I think both brass knuckle implants and pierced eyelids trump even the wackjob who decided it would be "cool" to lace up her back.

Intelligent Design vs. Incompetent Design

2005-12-09T12:57:00.000-05:00

In light of the stimulating conversation in my last post's comments section, I thought I'd post on something usually equally as divisive and controversial as federal involvement in public education: Evolution!!! Better yet, why not combine that theme with education! Specifically, I thought I'd share my thoughts on teaching evolution in science class and the recent movement encouraging some schools to include "Intelligent Design" in their science curricula.

I, for one, am all for introducing "Intelligent Design" into classrooms nationwide. In fact, I don't even have a problem with teaching this populist drivel to science classes. Let's take a brief look at why these folks in Kansas want their Godscience foisted upon children who don't know any better:

Objectivity results from the use of the scientific method without philosophic or religious assumptions in seeking answers to the question: Where do we come from?

Well, then... If I'm correct, which I may not be, but if I am, then part of the implied meaning of the concept of "objectivity" is giving equal credence to several viewpoints and allowing an impartial evaluator to determine the validity of each. So why not toss in a few other theories and let the kids use "The Scientific Method" to see which ones make sense and which ones turn out to be utter hogwash upon rigorous inquiry! Which alternative viewpoints do I suggest, you may ask... Well...

A Professor emeritus at UMass, Don Wise, has come up with a great complement to the ludicrous suppositions of this "Intelligent Design" lunacy. He calls it "Incompetent Design", and his explanations, while humorous and only half-serious, expose the tenets of Intelligent Design for what they are: philosophical snake oil and pseudo-intellectual puffery. For example, take a look at Professor Wise's cranial conundrum:

Look at the bones in your face. They're the same as the other mammals' but they're just squashed and contorted by jamming the jaw into a face with your brain expanding over it, so the potential drainage system in there is so convoluted that no plumber would admit to having done it!

So if science classes are intended to give students a solid understanding of the scientific method, and if they are to allow intellectual curiosity to flourish, why not feed the kids a dose of both kinds of "ID" and have them come up with their analyses of what's right and what's wrong with each theory? If they stick to the rigors of what is expected of any scientific-minded human, they can't but come to the conclusion that this Wise Guy (heh heh heh) has a bit of a cranial advantage over his mumbo-jumbo "Powers That Be, Hallelujah" brethren. Then, perhaps the teachers could offer an overview of the Theory of Evolution as a pretty balanced and generally scientifically rigorous explanation of why species exist as they do in today's world.

Whaddaya say? Presenting Intelligent Design as a perfect example of "bad science", or "what to avoid in formulating hypotheses"? I think it's so crazy it Just... might... work...

Products For The Resoundingly Average Child

2005-12-06T09:44:00.000-05:00

No Child Left Behind indeed...

When you consider that the speed limit on the Learning Infobahn at our nation's public schools has been lowered to a mind-numbing crawl already, it's a wonder they don't start introducing children's toys like these to teach tomorrow's "resoundingly average" leaders and statesmen at a very early age that they're not alone in their mediocrity.

These playtoys are simply ingenius. The way I see it, if we start children out early with significantly lowered expectations, then eventually we won't have all these annoying liberals demanding accountability or or silly things like responsible, well thought-out "exit strategies" for wars we feel like declaring.

Nor will we be force-fed some outrageous and overly complicated fairy-tale about how live "evolved" from goo. Nope! This is the next generation of No Child Left Behind. How CAN we leave anyone behind when nobody's going anywhere at all anyway?!

I got nothin' today...

2005-12-02T15:29:00.000-05:00

Except that the word "hosebag" pleases me to no end.

If I ever make a baby, I'm totally naming it Hosebag. Unofficially, at least.

Now take off, eh?

Can Technology Takes A Leap Forward

2005-11-30T08:11:00.000-05:00

Four words I heard last night on the Moving Picture Box managed to give me the vapors. Fortunately, I was already reclining on my fainting couch, so I suffered no severe head trauma upon hearing about the "self-cooling beer can".

Apparently this technology has been around for a little while in England, but I'd never heard of it until I saw it on the Science Channel. Anybody out there familiar with this amazing development? Anybody actually tried it yet?

Let's Make Some Democracy! Energy Drink Edition

2005-11-29T15:11:00.000-05:00

Whose energy drink reigns supreme?

Will it be Lil' Jon's Crunk Juice:

Or Steven Segal's Asian Experience:

Oh good god, I'm feeling faint just looking at these two Miracles of Marketing Madness in such close proximity to each other. Honestly, I'm surprised my computer hasn't blown up just trying to process the insane amount of stupidity right here on the screen!

Vote Below!

All Kindsa Stuff About Me

2005-11-29T09:25:00.000-05:00

Care Of Recon and DeadPanAnn... thanks guys. Really. I mean it. Here goes...

Ten years ago:

This period of my life was a touch on the fuzzy side. High school, moodiness, being naughty... that about sums it up, I think. I know I was trying to get into college, which was proving to be a bit tougher than I'd originally anticipated. But eventually I suckered a school in the fine state of Connecticut to let me squat on their campus for four years.

Five years ago:

I had just moved to Boston and into a frightening apartment with our good buddy Recon. This place was pretty ridiculous. The neighborhood was not so nice either. When Recon says his car was stolen while living there, he doesn't mention that it was stolen from our driveway. It was definitely haunted, too. And I don't even believe in ghosts.There WAS a pretty sweet crying chair there, though.

Also, I had just hopped on the tattered tailcoats of the "Internet Bubble's" last gurgling, Tuberculosis-infested cough of life by getting a job at Cambridge Incubator. I was paid far too much money to do absolutely nothing all day. I got fed Thai food and microbrew beer on Fridays, and played foosball and ping pong in the main meeting room with my boss. I had a corner office with a view of the Charles River at the tender age of 22. I was also laid off four months later. But I had a taste of the good life, and I'm proud to say that I participated in one of America's most embarassing bout of Venture Speculation ever recorded. If you want an idea of my life during this time, check out the movie Startup.com.

The day I was laid off, I watched Office Space for the first time, by the way. Now THAT is synchronicity.

One year ago:

I started working at oh... about the fifth place I've worked since leaving Internet Playland. Trying to find a "real" career after spending the first four months of your professional life in Romper Room is difficult, to say the least. Trying to explain to the person in the next cubicle over that I used to have a corner office makes you sound crazy, by the way.

Five Yummy Things:

I'm with Recon on this one: the word "Yummy" makes me want to puke in my mouth. Kinda ironic, ain't it? With that in mind, here is just about the only "Yummy" thing I can think of:

Dousing anyone who uses the word "Yummy" without a trace of sarcasm or irony on their blog in kerosene and doing this to them:

So now, on to five things that make a sexy party in my mouth:

1- A margarita made with Don Julio Anejo tequila, Cointreau, Key Lime juice and a hint of fresh lemon juice. Shaken, on the rocks and with a fat wedge of lime.

2- Mussels from Monk's Cafe in Philly

3- a really well-made slab o' tuna sashimi

4- The Guinness they pour at the tasting bar at St. James's Gate Brewery

5- A nice Chateau Lafite-Rothschild Bordeaux

Five songs I know by heart:

1- Build Me Up Buttercup

2- Happy Birthday

3- Copacabana

4- "Hooker With A Penis" by Tool

5- "Safety Dance" by Men Without Hats

Five things I would do with a lot of money:

1- Build a home entertainment system to end all home entertainment systems. We're talking 20 foot screen, hundred thousand watt speaker system, Dolby 900 (which doesn't exist and will never exist, except in MY movie theater) and seats made out of baby seals that serve you beer when you think the word beer.

2- Build an android that's an exact replica of Recon and send it after him to terrorize him for eternity. It would be so perfect that everyone would start thinking the android was the REAL Recon. THAT would freak him out. When the joke got old, I'd send in the mob of angry villagers with pitchforks and torches.

3- Find whoever invented the notion of Supply Side Economics and "stimulate his economy" with a giant dildo.

4- Buy an orangutan and teach it to dismantle Cadillacs like Clyde from Every Which Way But Loose.

5- Hire an army, arm them with hair dryers and send 'em to the arctic to do a number on the ice caps. Just to show those rich folks with their mansions on the beach why they should be just as concerned about the environment as I am.

Five things I would never wear:

1- Anything Chartreuse

2- Anything Salmon

3- Anything Fuschia

4- Anything Periwinkle

5- Anything Taupe

Five Favorite TV shows:

The Daily Show

Good Eats with Alton Brown

The Colbert Report

Beavis and Butthead

The Simpsons

Five things I enjoy doing:

Nerding (this includes learning stuff about computers, playing video games and doing the sorts of things you associate with being a Nerd, other than getting beaten up by the jocks)

Reading

Nothing, if it's on a sparsely populated Caribbean island

Yelling at the TV,

Thinking about how much it would suck to be this chick's boyfriend

Five people I want to inflict this on:

Oh come on... I'm a civilized blogger. I've long since abandoned spreading these things. They're like the Internet version of Pilgrim smallpox blankets. You feel all cool cuz someone is being nice and giving a crap about your pathetic life, but then, once you accept, you find yourself covered with pus-filled boils. The meme stops here! Though there are many among you from whom I'd like to hear all about these things. So, if you decide to contract this textual virus, please let me know in the comments! I actually AM just burning to read all about all of you. So please, do. Cuz it burns! IT BURNS!!!

In Praise Of All Things Old Timey

2005-11-18T09:32:00.000-05:00

Paul the Spud has inspired me to write a thoroughly meaningless yet inexplicably enjoyable paean to -- of all things -- an adjective.

"Old Timey" is totally coming back. George Clooney and John Turturro spearheaded the Old Timey initiative way back at the turn of the century (the Twenty First Century, that is! Ho ho!) with their cinematic performances as the Soggy Bottom Boys, and Jack Davenport followed up by leading his soldiers in a rousing chorus of "Huzzah's" in Pirates of the Caribbean (after Jack Sparrow helped him by breaking the Curse of the Aztec Gold, of course) in 2003. The "Guinness Guys" have made a smattering of charming appearances on the Telly, proclaiming the various technological advances achieved by the folks at St. James's Gate Brewery to be "Brilliant!" And I quite agree. The widget truly is a thing of beauty. Old Timey is everywhere, and I, for one, am quite happy welcoming back an age of the following wonderful things:

Strong men with handlebar moustaches and monochrome-striped unitards lifting heavy, oblong slabs of iron

Handlebar moustaches in general

Bicycles with one enormous wheel and one tiny wheel

Stovepipe hats

Outhouses, particularly outhouses with the crescent-moon cutout on the door

Rocking chairs

The Monacle

Hobos

Bare knuckle boxing

Please feel free to add in Old Timey essentials I've missed in the comments section...

I think the next step is re-introducing some truly fantastic language back into everyday parlance. I've already mentioned my love for the word "Huzzah", and here I shall list a few others I deem worthy of inclusion into our new vernacular:

Bully (the adjective, not the noun)

Milquetoast (Thanks, Paul)

Rapscallion

Great Caesar's Ghost! (in honor of the inimitable Shakespeare's Sister)

Varmint

Tarnation

Vittles

Fisticuffs

Really, that's all I can think of right now. What wonderful Old Timey words am I missing? Let me know, and use them liberally!

I shall leave you with a picture of my new hero, and patron saint of all things Old Timey, John L. Sullivan, bareknuckle boxing king of the universe.

How Do I Make The List, Bill?

2005-11-16T15:48:00.000-05:00

Bill reminding us just how big it is... thanks, Blogcore!

Eternal jackass and professional blowhard, Bill O'Reilly, has apparently assembled a "List o'Enemies"... but I can't find it anywhere on his garish and eye-raping website. So I emailed him, asking where it is, and perhaps perhaps if I could be included on it. Herewith is the text of my message to King Douchebag of Bungholia:

Dear Bill,

I've been scouring your site for this "list" you mentioned. You know, your "list of enemies" -- those people who called you out for being a ridiculous blowhard upon hearing that you invited al Qaida to attack an American city. I wan't all that suprised to hear you make an outrageous and totally insane statement in response to a pretty sane decision by San Fransisco's school system. Rather, I was hoping to get a good "to-read" list of blogs. I was also kinda thinking you might include me on said list of enemies. I do, after all, think you are a detriment to the Fourth Estate, and perhaps even a threat to the security and sanctity of our nation. Not you personally, of course, but the character you play on FOX News.

Now that I think of it, maybe playing your character with all the "gravitas" of a WWF Wrestler might be even worse of an offense than actually having convictions or beliefs like those you profess on air. You prey on the ignorance of a deluded American public, and you profit from it, too. You know you put up a charade on a daily basis, and that suckers of all walks of life eat it up like so much empty-caloried McDonalds fast food.

I look forward to getting a copy of this "enemies list" if only to find some nice new reading material. And when are you retiring again?

Kind Regards,
-Devo

Wait A Tic! The Monkey Is One Today!!!

2005-11-16T14:01:00.000-05:00

Yes, that's right, folks... on this day one year ago, The Vitriolic Monkey burst into the world, a gooey, smelly mess of HTML and undirected anger. "I can't believe I've made it this far," he says. We've had our fits and starts, but overall, I think it's been a great year. I think I'll have another!!!

Here's to angry monkeys everywhere:

Update: Er, upon revisiting my seminal post, I see that I've missed my bloody blogoversary. I feel like such a bad parent...

Accountability? That's For Liberal Pussies!!!

2005-11-16T11:05:00.000-05:00

Of the THIRTY news articles I found on the first page of a Google news search on this, exactly THREE were articles featured in American news sources. What kind of conclusions can I draw from that? First, read the story:

US admits to using Phosphorous as a weapon in Iraq

Now, if I remember correctly, several of our highest and most exalted leaders stood in front of the Congress of the United States of America, as well as in front of the Assembly at the United Nations and URGED the world to invade Iraq, depose its despotic tyrant of a leader and impose a Western style democracy to avoid further use of "weapons of mass destruction" on innocent civilians.

For a very unsettling visual account of what we are now doing to civilians in Iraq, click the following link, a Google Image search for "phosphorus weapons."

Where's your moral superiority now, President Bush? I'll tell you where. Washed out to sea, eroded by a deluge of corruption, lies and now, inconscionable use of chemical weapons. This is hypocrisy at its most terrifying.

Now, on to my conclusions. Why won't the American mainstream media report on this as copiously as British and other world media report on it? Is it because, as Bill O'Reilly claims, our media is controlled by Leftist Commie Nazis? That makes Zero sense. In fact, it's proof that these crackpots (neocon Republicans and their attack dogs, from Ann Coulter to Michelle Malkin to Bill O'Reilly) are so mired and lost in their own lunatic worldviews, that we MUST as a nation take power from them before they do something really REALLY bad. Not that melting the skin off of civilians is merely SORTA bad, but hell, if it ain't happening over here, what is it to us anyway? I implore you, America (or the four or five people in America who might stumble upon this blog and actually READ this far), PLEASE go to the polls next November and vote. Find out if your current Senator and Representative is irreversibly batshit insane, and if he is, vote him OUT of office. If not, fine. Let him stay. But seriously, people, the majority of these idiots in Washington really are truly out of their heads. Time for a change, friends and neighbors.

Until I cool down a few degrees, this is Devo, signing off.

Image c/o WTF Is It Now?? Good stuff, go read.

Oh Yuck

2005-11-11T15:56:00.000-05:00

Jones Soda Holiday Pack includes innovative soda flavors such as:

Turkey And Gravy
Wild Herb Stuffing

and

Brussels Sprouts

Update!!! Jones Soda announces the newest member of its palate-crushing monstrosities: salmon!

Peanuts

2005-11-11T08:07:00.000-05:00

If I were a Peanuts character... I'd be:

You are Woodstock!

Which Peanuts Character are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

Interesting. I've always loved Peanuts. Snoopy and pals animate some of my earliest and fondest memories. When I was a wee child, my parents perceived very early on that I was a precocious and curious lil' tyke. I would insist that my father read The Little Engine That Could to me on a nightly basis, and I would follow along, trying to decode the strange symbols that somehow held the magic in that story. I think I was mystified by the act of reading in a way that adults often forget how to be mystified... but that's another post for another day.

Anyway, he was always quite tuckered out by my bedtime, and I could always rely on him to start nodding off about halfway through the story. Every night, I'd poke and prod until he woke to finish the story for me. Apparently this little charade became tiresome to me, and eventually I taught myself to read by remembering the words he'd say and matching them up to where his finger pointed on the page. A short period of time later, I was reading the whole book by myself. When that started happening, my father stopped falling asleep, because I was reading to him.

This course of events cemented my love of books very early on in my life, and some of my favorites followed close on the heels of The Little Engine and his cargo of toys for all the children. The very best were "Charlie Brown's Big Book of Questions and Answers". It was a series of books that combined science, education and comics in the most ingenius way. They consisted of simple questions and answers, and were illustrated by Charles Schultz. There were even individual Peanuts comic strips dotted about to further enliven the learning experience. I wish I could find some scans of these books to post here so you could see how cool and well-put-together they were. There were whole universes between those hard covers. From these universes, I learned what photosynthesis was. I learned about gravity. I learned about planes, trains and automobiles. I learned where diamonds come from. I learned what was inside the sun. I learned voraciously, and I had unfair amounts of fun doing it.

Being characterized as Woodstock made me think of these books for some reason. So I tried to find them at amazon or powells... to no avail. Apparently they've been out of print for quite some time, and scans of the covers aren't even available on the web. This is extremely sad to me... I don't have kids yet, but one day I will. And more than anything I want to give them the opportunity to find the passion and pure love for learning that I was given. I realize that Charlie Brown isn't necessarily the only path that might lead to the Magical Land of Nerddom... but the fact that it isn't even available stings a bit. I imagine my parents may have saved these books for just this reason, but that doesn't make it any better. My children might still be able to read these books, but so many others will have to make do with whatever banal iteration of the Teletubbies or Spongebob is in vogue this month. Now, before I get too Vitriolic about this perceived lack of quality educational material, I understand that Dora the Explorer and Blues Clues are both extremely popular and responsibly educational, but dammit, it's just not the same! There's something about Peanuts that is just irreplaceable.

So now I ask you:
What kind of early childhood memories do you think shaped your current passions? How about books that inspired you? Cartoons? Anything?

Oh Boy! A New Toy!!!

2005-11-10T08:41:00.000-05:00

I've finally figured out how to find those crazy search engine strings that people enter to pull up my lil' pagey page. And I think I wish I hadn't... These are some of my favorite search strings that apparently point to this here festering anger dump:

monkey giving a wedgie

cat butt furry fridge magnet

franz dasch pictures (who the hell is franz dasch?!)

monkey kicking guy

i am extremely depressed

flash animation dancing squirrel with testicles

monkey god smash game

smooching monkey picture (I was the number ONE search result for this one!)

anacondas swallowing hippo

Wow... I could do this all day.

Urgent Update!!!

New Favorite Search Term: batman dickery

Getcher War On!

2005-11-09T11:22:00.000-05:00

Ok, this is TWO in one day, folks! Consistent he ain't... but totally kickass? Ohhhhh yeahhhhh... Anyway, for heaps of hilarity AND informity, go read some supersweet comics by the nice folks at Get Your War On... They so funny!

Dear God! You People Smell Awful!

2005-11-09T09:38:00.000-05:00

Buy the T-shirt, click the pic!!!

OK, so the CIA requests that the Justice Department investigate the leak of a covert agent's name to the press (an action which, by the way, may have potentially compromised "national security", golden calf of the oppressive regime we voted into power), and the Republicans are up in arms, claiming that it's some sort of politically motivated, spurious, partisan attack that's unfounded and undeserving of attention. They surmised this because all signs pointed to a certain couple of black-hearted, warmongering Wormtongues named "Scooter" and Karl being the culprits, the transgressors, the guilty parties, the criminals behind this breach of "national security". Just for a touch of background, these individuals not only designed the slipshod, ill-planned and all around disastrous war in Iraq... they are also deeply involved with the evil brotherhood currently trying to take over the world. So any attempt at dinenfrachnising them or weakening their supposed "slam-dunk case for war" would predictably incite the ire of the party's steadfast supporters -- many of whom may in fact be thoroughly brainwashed by admittedly powerful forces of evil (hey, I've gotta give SOME of 'em the benefit of the doubt). Others of whom are just plain ol' evil in and of themselves. The bottom line is that once those who were wronged by the actions of a few powerful officials have finally been given their chance at vindication, the Republican rank-and-file bemoan this move as "political" and start to suck their thumbs and whimper like spanked toddlers.

Fast forward to several days ago, when it came out that the CIA (remember them from up above?) is holding prisoners in "secret prisons" scattered around the globe doing god knows what to them. Now, I don't want to come off like I'm defending these prisoners... they're probably mostly pretty nasty people. But secret prisons? That's Soviet shit, man. It's funny that conservative mouthpiece FoxNews would react so disdainfully at Amnesty International referring to Guantanamo Bay as the "gulag of our times" when in reality, the "gulags of our times" are more probably actually being held in real, authentic, honest to goodness gulags!

Aren't we America? Didn't we win the Cold War? Aren't we now supposed to set the standard for moral behavior throughout the world? Aren't we trying to impose our superior civilization on all the poor, grubby heathens in the Mid-East??? How can we do that if we're dealing the cards with one hand and wagging our finger at the gamblers with the other??? OK, so now some information has leaked that might also compromise national security in some way, but more directly, compromises the integrity of an unpopular war that we're losing.

Fast forward to today... NOW, the Republicans are PISSED! It seems that if you leak information that is detrimental to their agenda, you're persona non grata. But if THEY leak information in an attempt to further that selfsame agenda, no attention needs be paid, especially to the man behind the curtain!

I Love The Smell Of Indictments In The Morning!

2005-10-28T15:49:00.000-04:00

Some of my favorite smells:

-April Downy fresh laundry
-Puppydogs and grass stains
-cucumber mint facial cream
-Evan Williams Single Barrel Bourbon
-Lavendar
-Corrupt, lying, tyrranical maniacs getting indicted by a federal grand jury (well, one so far...)

Some ofmy favorite sights:

-boobies
-Sapphire-blue Caribbean waters
-puppydogs and grass stains
-my wife's drooling face on the pillow next to me in the morning
-chinese college students lip syncing to Backstreet Boys songs (Thanks, MK, I needed that...)

Ask Aziz!

2005-10-19T13:08:00.000-04:00

Pic via HumorGazette

What a ridiculous monkey-circus THIS is gonna be... You thought the OJ trial was bad? This Saddam garbage is gonna make that absurd "Television Event" look like Brown v. Board by comparison.

Given, there's some pretty serious stuff at stake, and it's extraordinarily important for this maniac to be put on trial, but with the atmosphere in the mass media these days -- mark my words -- coverage of this trial will devolve into a Multimedia Spectacular, complete with splash animation graphics, blaring trumpet theme songs and reporters with "gravitas" before you can say "Cronkite". As I said before, his alleged crimes are nothing to giggle at, but the fashion in which our beloved Fourth Estate will treat this process will most certainly beget some cynical tittering from this jaded simian.

So, we all know that this trial will be an incredibly important juncture in whatever the hell is going to happen to the cesspool of chaos that is Iraq, as well as a day of reckoning for millions affected by Saddam's insanity. We also know that everyone from Lou Dobbs to Brian Williams to Brit "Douchecock" Hume will turn this otherwise serious transaction of justice into a Las Vegas glitterfest of voyeuristic exploitation. So why not lighten the mood a bit with a quick game of Rock Paper Saddam? I saw this a while ago, and laughed until I peed a little.

Politics:American Culture :: Oil:Water

2005-10-13T13:25:00.000-04:00

Paul Waldman made an interesting (albeit ultimately banal and overwhelmingly obvious) observation over at his new internet magazine, The Gadflyer, during a conversation on American politics and the recent abject failure of many progressive initiatives and candidates. I quote:

The ugly fact of American public opinion is that most people know next to nothing about politics. They don't have a clear understanding of where the parties stand on most things, and they don't have a meaningful grasp of exactly what it means to be "liberal" or "conservative."

The main thrust of his argument is that many people who normally lean "left" on many issues are beginning to see this failure on the part of the left as an indication that the predominant opinion in American culture is starting to drift "rightward", and thus the Democratic party must reciprocate in order to remain a viable influence on the happenings at the top. He maintains -- and I agree with him -- that this is simply not the case. However, I also contend that even if the Democrats were to win a sizeable chunk of influence within the forseeable future without ceding their stance as the "Liberal Party", in the long run it would actually make very little difference; unless American Culture fundamentally changes its basic apprehension of the role and scope of government.

Far too few people know why government exists in the first place, outside of taking up taxes and handing down laws. It is virtually always viewed as an oppressive, impersonal, legislative, outside force. "Democracy" and "Republic" are words you learn in Social Studies, and then happily forget after the weekly quiz. "Representation" is a concept that's lost any meaning whatsoever. And as long as government remains an entity that exists solely to legislate, rob and punish, nobody will ever care about any of these words and concepts upon which our country was founded. Changing that perception is a monumental task; but it is also a task that can only be accomplished one mind at a time. This is where we Left-leaning folk have a great advantage. We're almost universally "people people". We know how to communicate, and we're pretty good at making friends. If we can successfully introduce an iota of curiosity into the mind of at least ONE igrnorant citizen, then we will have sown the seeds for true democracy.

I just did this with my wife, who is woefully ignorant of most goings on in the halls of power (as beautiful and intelligent as she is, she don't know jack, and doesn't care to, for the most part). She is, however, familiar with the recent push in Philadelphia to become the nation's first city to provide free wireless internet access to the entire city. She loves the idea. Who wouldn't, really? Especially us folks who are currently paying upwards of forty dollars a month for high speed access! Free internet is just a good idea. However, a Texas Representative named Pete Sessions proposed a bill prohibiting exactly this practice. Under the euphemistic moniker "Preserving Innovation in Telecom Act of 2005" he sought to bar municipalities from providing for free what a corporation in that municipality's geographical area would be able to otherwise provide (and profit from). I wrote a letter to my Representative, Chris Smith, voicing my vehement opposition to this legislation. When I received his friendly form letter reply in the mail informing me of that bill's demise on the House Floor, I rejoiced. She asked why. I explained what the bill sought to do, and she reacted just as any intelligent human being paying forty bucks a month for high speed internet access would react. "Who the fuck do these assholes think they are?! It's good that they didn't make THAT into a law!" This reaction pleased me much. We actually started to discuss the issue. I explained to her that these representatives are charged with voicing the opinions of their constituents. In many cases, the only people to support a particular candidate all the way through their election process and remain in touch with them after they're in office are the PR folks of large corporations who would profit greatly from just the type of legislation that a man like Pete Sessions might propose. Therefore, these people become a candidate's most valuable asset and most valuable constituent, the people to whom he will pay the most attention and for whom he will grease the most wheels.

This phenomenon is not Party-specific, or even ideology-specific. It rises out of ignorance and apathy. The only way to remedy it (and subsequently to re-establish the balance between "right" and "left") is by raising consciousness. Find something you feel strongly about, and find out how it's being handled in Congress. Is anyone even paying attention to it? If so, from what angle? Who is proposing bills? Why? Involvement is the only way to stop corruption and redefine the boundaries that help establish balance. And balance is the key to a just and equitable future.

Holiday Cheer!

2005-10-13T07:50:00.000-04:00

That's right, folks! Today marks the beginning of four days of joy, celebration and feasting in Iraq, as that country sails triumphantly into the elite fold of "democratic nations of the world" by voting on their brand new, shiny constitution.

Of course, by "joy" I mean six a PM curfew, by "celebration" I mean all borders closing and no travel allowed anywhere, and by feasting I mean gazing wistfully at the brand new concertina-wire the military just installed at your friendly, neighborhood polling... er... celebration station.

I find it deliciously ironic that I just decided to start reading a funny little book called "1984" yesterday, and today I hear reports of a "Holiday" characterized by four days of curfews, lockdown and razor wire. Geroge Orwell would be ever so proud to see his invention of doublespeak alive and well as we smear democracy all over the world! Meester Boosh, I congratulate you on your efforts to civilize those barbarian Muslims over there in the sandy part of the world. I have a suggestion. To really foster an atmosphere of holiday cheer, have Sadaama Claus bring presents to all the little boys and girls of the land.

I hear little Abu has been very good this year, and he wants a prosthetic leg ever so badly!

Supermarket Freakout!!!

2005-10-12T20:37:00.000-04:00

There's nothing that brightens up one's day quite like seeing someone go absolutely batshit kookoo in line at the grocery store. I know, cuz it just happened to me.

Some lady was at the self-checkout unloading and scanning an entire cart full of halloween candy bags. There must have been sixty bags in the damn cart, I tell ya. This was a bit obnoxious, as the neon pink sign pasted not eighteen inches from her face clearly read "Ten Items or Less", but I wasn't in too great a rush, and another scanner was about to open up. So I held my tongue. The next chick to approach the counter wasn't quite as patient as I, though. She parked her cart behind Halloween candy lady and informed her in no uncertain terms that the sign directly above her head clearly stated that this line was for patrons purchasing TEN items or LESS. Snickers Lady played deaf, and that's when things started getting fun.

First, the righteous marauder-for-justice-in-the-grocery-store-
checkout-line demanded that her inconsiderate foe step away from the counter and begin her transaction in another line. Her pleas, however, continued to fall on pretend-a-deaf ears. Such a ploy did not fool our hero, though! She persisted in her requests that the offender vacate the area immediately, all the while gesticulating in the most delightfully awkward ways and raising the volume of each entreaty above that of the last. The woman with the cart continued to scan bags, though, seemingly oblivious to the Bruce Banner-Incredible Hulk transformation slowly taking place directly behind her.

At one point, the indignant shopper even approached the grocery store attendant who oversees these do-it-yourself checkout lines and begged for his intervention. He merely snorted and told the lady to calm down and chill out. I think that may have been the straw that broke the camel's proverbial back. The lady went back to the checkout area and proceeded to start plucking items from the Halloween candy woman's cart and throwing them around the store! It was awesome. I'm not even talking casual tossing, but full fledged Roger Clemens fastball shit, here. There were bags of Reeses Peanut Butter Cups and 100 Grands and Almond Joys flying into aisles and expletives flying into the air. By this point, quite a line had built up behind me, too, so there were plenty of awe-filled faces witnessing this episode. It was breathtaking. The Halloween Candy lady got the most amazing look of helpless incomprehension on her face when her candy took flight, too! As if this woman came from left field to wreak havoc with no rhyme or reason! She even offered a few weak-voiced protests, but Bruce Banner was long gone by this point.

Anyway, it was my turn at the parallel counter by this time, so I just quietly ducked a Mallomar bag and dropped my leeks and buttermilk on the counter to pay for my scant few goods and leave peacefully. I didn't stick around for the denouement, but I really hope some form of law enforcement or physical restraint was eventually employed (and that's saying a LOT for me, since I'm usually on the receiving end of this type of regulatory action, and thusly, I hate it with a passion) but I was long gone by the time it was all over.

In the final analysis, I think I completely agree with the crazy woman's point: that assholes like the Butterfinger Bitch really ruin otherwise wonderful things like self-checkout lines at the grocery store. However, her execution was pretty sloppy. Something subtle might have been far more graceful in the long run. Something like a shiv to the lung. But that type of reaction tends to land you in more trouble than you would be alleviating in the first place.

Actually, scratch all that. I thought the whole thing was pretty awesome. It certainly made an otherwise infuriating trip to the grocery store absolutely chuckle-icious. Yeah, I usually hate the grocery store, but that's another post for another day.

Anyone ever had a similar funtime crazy-person experience at their local mega-mart? I'd simply LOVE to hear about it...

Ever So Sorry...

2005-10-11T14:26:00.000-04:00

...for the regrettable absence of posts. I've been in such a strange place for the longest time. Perhaps married life is having an "effect" on my brain.

Seriously, click on that link. It's a charming little animation from Jolly Olde England. Fret not, dear internet, once my grey noodles return to normal working order, I'll try to regularize my posting habits. Until then, tell me what you think of that wonderful little toon!

Over and out,
-Cap'n Devo

Things from Canada that Totally Kick Ass

2005-09-28T12:43:00.000-04:00

I counted, and there are precisely three. Yes, three things from Canada that totally kick ass, and I will wax eloquent about all three of them right now.

But first, a few words in the way of explanation. Wifey loves this here band called "Our Lady Peace." They hail from the Great, White North (that's Canadia, to the uninitiated) and apparently they're the bee's knees up there, too. So a few days ago, Wifey insisted we go to see them perform at the Trocadero in Philadelphia. This brings me to my main point: thing number one from Canada that totally kicks ass.

Our Lady Peace

They're Canadian, slightly weird and very intelligent. Furthermore, the singer dude's got a very distinctive voice. And they're not very well-known in the states, so getting tickets to their shows isn't all that difficult. We saw 'em in a pretty small venue, which added to the charm of the event. At one point, he blamed the demise of one of our country's pre-eminent Modern Rock radio stations (Y100) on President Bush. That radio station pretty much gave Our Lady Peace their big break in the States almost a decade ago with the single "Superman's Dead" on their album "Clumsy". But now FM 100.3 is a pretty lame rap station pushing the mind-numbing drivel the kids go nuts for these days. Don't get me wrong, I love good hip-hop... but this garbage is just a travesty. OK, this is about Canada, not sub-par rap music... so I'll get back to the point. Stuff from Canada that totally kicks ass.

Strange Brew

Nope, I'm not talking about Eric Clapton and his lil' buddies, I'm talking about Bob and Doug McKenzie!

These guys totally kick ass. I mean come on! My brother and I used to say that drownin' in beer was like heaven, eh? Now he's not here, and I've got two soakers... this isn't heaven, this sucks! It really doesn't get much better than that.

MK

Finally, no discussion of Canada would be complete without a mention of that spunky little tart, Miss Kimberly. She so crazy. Go look at her blog. It's humorous and full of insight into the inner workings of a real, live Canadian! It's like National Geographic, only with more cursing and fewer pendulum boobs. Which is nice, really. All in all, she totally kicks ass. I feel that pictures would only serve to detract from the majesty that is she. What are you waiting for, eh? Go on, you knob, get outta here, eh!

You know, when I said that there are precisely three things from canada that totally kick ass, I probably miscounted a bit. Math isn't necessarily my strong suit, you know. If I've neglected to include something that you believe deserves mention, please feel free to let me know! Via the Comments section, of course... That doesn't mean I'll agree with you, and I might still call you a hoser, but at least you'll feel a little better about yourself in the meantime, right?

Cap'n Slappy Says

2005-09-16T18:38:00.000-04:00

Remember folks, this coming Monday (September 19th) is Fourth Annual Talk Like A Pirate Day! Arrrrr.

Many thanks, to ye, Dave Barry! Even tho ye be a scurvy bilge rat worthy of a good keel haulin'.

Viggy, Viggy, Viggy, you have been a bad monkey!

2005-09-13T18:45:00.000-04:00

OK, I know, I've been a bit... shall we say... delinquent... of late in my posting. I apologize, I really do. But all a y'all gots to understand, it's been a pretty fucked up month and a half. First, there was this "family emergency" (which I know, I haven't fully explained, and I may not be able to explain for quite a while, but please, bear with me, OK?) followed by embarking on a journey into a truly bizarre and unsettling novel called "Perdido Street Station" and a nation-rattling encounter with Gaia getting hyper pissed at SOMETHING and flattening one of my favorite cities. It's all been quite hectic. Compound that with the fact that I just got married, and you got what you might term an "emotional maelstrom" all up in my brainhole.

Yes, you read right, on the 27th of August, my dear, sweet Dawn and I wed. It was a lil' tiny ceremony on my parents' back deck in suburban Pennsylvania. They live on a hill and get a supersweet view of the sunset. Perhaps a picture or two for the faithful who still manage to stumble to my puny hole in the wall? OK...

Here's one of Dawn and her pops:

Followed by one of me lookin' all goofy while Dawn looks even more stunning and gorgeous than usual:

And of course, what wedding would be complete without kickass festivities afterward?

So, you see, I've been a bit "busy" lately. I promise to return to a modicum of regular updating and whatnot, but at the moment, my life is taken up with slightly more "bricks and mortar" endeavors. Don't worry, we ain't about to procreate or nothin'... not anytime soon, at least. One day perhaps, but only once the earth is ready for the seven headed beast.

I jest, of course.

Anyway, so that's a touch of explanation for my recent absence. Given, this wedding was kind of "impromptu"... and most of the revellers who arrived to our party didn't even know were were doing it, but that's how we do, you know?

god DAMMIT!!!!

2005-09-02T21:22:00.000-04:00

I've been robbed again. First, the Japanese stole Smashroom. I coulda made millions. MILLIONS I tell ya. Here's the setup: subdivide an old warehouse so you have numerous empty rooms. Fill said empty rooms with old crap found at junkyards, flea markets and yardsales. Clients pay money to smash said junk in the relative safety of their private Smashroom! Pure G-E-N-I-U-S. But it seems the Japanese have gotten there first. I can't precisely locate the news snippet that ruined my dreams, but I know they've done it. Maybe I saw it on the TV. That's probably why I smashed it.

Seriously, though , think about it, stressed out businessmen stop in an old, abandoned warehouse before they head home, and instead of drinking three martinis and pounding the crap outta Fido and the kids, they can take a baseball bat or a tire iron to a slew of vases, balsa-wood furniture and mannequins in the likeness of their boss. Or, a bunch of jaded skate punks could take their mischievous, adolescent agression out on a bunch of junk rather than the local 7-11. It would be "in the public interest" as they say. But I digress... I wanted to focus my rage not on the Japanese, but on an individual named Chad Underkoffler, who is probably a very nice person, and obviously smart... but I hate him.

"Why?" you ask? Because he came up with a game called "Monkey, Pirate, Ninja, Robot" BEFORE I did! Not that I had any idea in the works for a game of such proportions, but I am most certainly obsessed with the above-mentioned fantasy grouping. I've been thinking for years about how to incorporate all of them into some kind of harebrained movie script, but I'm just not that swift. Hell, I can barely spell my NAME much less scrawl out an entire (and coherent) movie plot. But I thought about it, dammit. And THIS guy comes along and comes up with a frickin' GAME that's not only SIMPLE, but quite easy to transform into a drinking game to boot! Anyway, I'm about to go play with Dawn, but I thought I'd stop by here first and tell everyone out there how pissed I am that I didn't come up with it first. So Chad, if you're out there, I hate you! But I must say, I'm extremely impressed with your handywork, and for that, I respect you. Bully, mate! I imagine we should never actually meet each other, cuz if we entered the same room at the same time, it'd probably be like crossing the streams in Ghostbusters.

OK, so here is a picture of a monkey with a guitar to finish off the night. Now go play the silly Internet game, and have a drink!

OK, Maybe Just A Little Bit...

2005-08-30T19:18:00.000-04:00

Ever notice how I always capitalize every word of every post title? How arrogant is THAT?

Anyway, ever the sucker for a new quiz whereby I implore the Internets to categorize, classify and define me, I've found out once and for all my true propensity for Nerdiness, as opposed to Geekiness and/or Dorkiness.

You see, Dawn takes great pleasure in uttering the phrase "You are such a dork" at any chance she gets. I've attempted to explain to her that I'm not, in fact, a dork. I've tried to tell her that it's far more likely that she means "You are such a nerd or geek". I have never, nor WILL I ever dispute any allegations made thusly. But after three or four polysyllabic words come out, I see her eyes glaze over, or she starts chasing a passing butterfly or asks if I want to ride bikes, and I understand that she's lost me. So really, it doesn't matter, as her ADD is much stronger than even mine...

Anyway, for all you Nerds, Geeks and Dorks out there, here is the final and definitive quiz to help you more completely understand where you fit on the Social Pariah Tryptich. Seems I'm actually one hunka hunka burnin Nerdlove... I totally coulda told ya that tho...

Modern, Cool Nerd
86 % Nerd, 60% Geek, 21% Dork

For The Record:

A Nerd is someone who is passionate about learning/being smart/academia.

A Geek is someone who is passionate about some particular area or subject, often an obscure or difficult one.

A Dork is someone who has difficulty with common social expectations/interactions.

You scored better than half in Nerd and Geek, earning you the title of: Modern, Cool Nerd.

Nerds didn't use to be cool, but in the 90's that all changed. It used
to be that, if you were a computer expert, you had to wear plaid or a
pocket protector or suspenders or something that announced to the world
that you couldn't quite fit in. Not anymore. Now, the intelligent and
geeky have eked out for themselves a modicum of respect at the very
least, and "geek is chic." The Modern, Cool Nerd is intelligent,
knowledgable and always the person to call in a crisis (needing
computer advice/an arcane bit of trivia knowledge). They are the one
you want as your lifeline in Who Wants to Be a Millionaire (or the one
up there, winning the million bucks)!

Congratulations!

Thanks Again! -- THE NERD? GEEK? OR DORK? TEST

My test tracked 3 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:

You scored higher than 96% on nerdiness
You scored higher than 85% on geekosity
You scored higher than 24% on dork points

Link: The Nerd? Geek? or Dork? Test written by donathos on Ok Cupid

Oh, and just for the record, I didn't like the HTML this guy used to formulate his tag. So I edited it. Cuz I'm totally nerdy, baby.

Suck it, Regis.

Reeeee-heeeally Don't Feel Like Bloggin' Lately

2005-08-30T18:14:00.000-04:00

Soooo... I'll just phone it in today and post a picture that made me giggle like a little schoolgirl:

Huh huh... Dill Wholes.

The Eyes Have It

2005-08-22T13:18:00.000-04:00

I found this kinda interesting. And marginally entertaining in the midst of a post-lunchtime food coma. I had a chicken salad sandwich, by the way. The pickle was my favorite part. Anyway, if you click this here link, you'll be redirected to the BBC, where you'll get the opportunity to try to discern "fake smiles" from "real smiles". I got fifteen outta twenty right. That means I'm totally awesome, by the way, so quit playin' around. How many can YOU guess correctly?

As usual, the picture I've featured has nothing to do with the meat of the entry, which is merely a link. So ignore the stupid cat poking the fruitcake in the eyes. Unless you find it more entertaining than the quiz. In which case, you are even stranger than I.

Beer Is Proof That God Loves Us And Wants Us To Be Happy

2005-08-19T14:05:00.000-04:00

So says ol' Ben Franklin: inventor, statesman, lush and original gangsta colonial pimp. And we all know how wise Ben is... er, was. So belly up to the bar and let me pour you a frosty mug of Friday Afternoon Beer Bloggin' Goodness.

First off, we have an appropriately bizarre food product from the birthplace of all that is simultaneously bizarre and edible: Japan. It's called "Kidsbeer". And it is exactly what you might expect, judging from the name. It's "beer" for kids, sold in realistic "beer" bottles and featuring realistic "beer" foam. Only, instead of alcohol, the "active ingredient" is Guarana. Now, in case you aren't familiar with the miraculous powers of this little fruit, Guarana is a berry -- similar to the coffee bean -- that is very high in caffeine. It's often a major ingredient in energy drinks like Red Bull and Lil' Jon's very own brand, Crunk Juice. I shit you not. YEAH! Anyway, the only thing I could think of that might in fact be WORSE than boozin' the little runts up on hooch would be feeding them stimulants. Now, I don't have children of my own, but I WAS a kid not all that long ago, and some of the only memories I have consist of my parents telling me to settle down and shut up. I was... excitable. Now, if anyone had added caffeine to the already volatile mixture of youthful energy and stupidity already fueling my injury-prone exploits, I can assure you, good things would NOT have ensued. Add to this concern the fact that we're marketing slovelnly drunkenness to younger and younger members of society, and this whole thing CAN'T be good. I don't want to come off as some prudish Mormon type, but honestly, there's just something disturbing about about this:

Photo courtesy Oleg Volk; it's clickable!

OK, that's enough concern for the well being of the planet. It's Friday, so let's get back to slovelnly drunkenness. If it's games you want, here's an awesome one. Help the drunk get home. I can't get him further than about 40 meters. If you'd prefer to see some Passed Out Wookies, look no further. Not much more than a bunch of reeeeeally fantastic photos of reeeeeeally drunk people, which I find humorous. Then again, I am a shameless barbarian in that sense, so I urge you to consult your very own conscience before clicking on the above link. Nothing unsafe for work, really (well, kinda), just a bunch of morons lacking any form of consciousness due to excessive alcohol intake. And finally, let's wrap this Friday up with some fun fun Beer Trivia! Match the beer bottle to the label for the brand of beer it contains. How well did YOU do? I got 'em ALL right! Woo Hoo!

The Dread Pirate Steve!!!

2005-08-17T14:17:00.000-04:00

What kind of pirate am I? You decide!
You can also view a breakdown of results or put one of these on your own page!
Brought to you by Rum and Monkey

Will I be THIS kind of pirate?

Or THIS kind of pirate?!

Wait... hold on a sec... What's going on here???

Ye'd better vote good, ye scurvy bilge rats! Or I'll keel haul ye and shiver yer timbers! Now where'd I bury that damned rum, anyway?

Images care of I have no idea. Totally forgot. Pillaged 'em from Google, mateys! Whoever ye are, thank ye for the groovy pics!

Left Hand Black

2005-08-16T07:38:00.000-04:00

I always knew there was something about Lefties...

PS - Above picture and linked news story are completely unrelated. I just thought it was the best picture of a chimp in the history of pictures of chimps. Between the cheeky half-grin and the fact that he's rubbing a Buddha belly, I'm head over heels in monkeylove.

Monday Morning Bizarro Bird Bloggin' with a side of A.D.D.

2005-08-15T10:32:00.000-04:00

Here are two items from the "Holy Crap!" files. Both entail birds: one large, and one small.

So last Thursday morning, I left my home as I usually do, taking a moment to bring the trash to the curb. I walked back up the driveway, as I usually do, and got in my car. After turning the car on and popping her into reverse, as I usually do, I craned my neck around to navigate my way down the driveway and what should catch my eye, but an enormous blue-gray bird standing not two feet from my passenger side window!

I knew it was a Great Blue Heron (Ardea herodias) instantly, as I'd seen one before in my high school days. You can't forget a bird of this stature. It was particularly odd to me, as our house is located in the middle of claustrophobic suburbia, where wildlife has been effectively erased, except for ballsy black squirrels (Sciurus carolinensis) and hungry rabbits (Oryctolagus cuniculus) that love my canteloupe vines. Anyway, he was just standing there. So I called Dawn on my cellular telephone, and told her to bring a camera to the side door. She did, and snapped a couple of pictures. Anyway, later that day, I came home and Herbert the Heron (as I came to affectionately call it in my head) was hanging out in a neighbor's driveway! Apparently he'd taken a shine to our little corner of suburbia, and didn't particularly feel like leaving. The following afternoon, another neighbor knocked on our back door, and told us that they had a bizarre visitor. Herbert had strolled into their back yard, and was just hanging out with Cathy, Ross and their psychotic little dog, Gracie. Gracie was a bit confused, as she'd never seen a bird like this before, and NEVER one that didn't fly, fly away at her rambunctious overtures for playtime. Herbert did no such thing. He stood his ground, stately and serene. Dawn and I sat at the picnic table they have set up on the patio and watched Herbert do nothing. That lasted for about an hour before it simply got too unbearable what with all the humidity and nastiness. So we went back inside and left Herbert and the neighbors to their business. The following day I returned to the neighbors' yard to pick up their propane tank, as we were getting ours refilled, and I thought I'd bring theirs along as well. I knew it was empty, and nobody likes an empty propane tank. I picked it up, got it filled, and brought it back. As I was carrying the thing through the yard, I almost tripped right over Herbert! I didn't even see him standing in front of me until he spread his wings as if to say "Hey! Buddy! What the hell's the matter with you? Can't you see I'm STANDING here?!" I apologized and carried the propane tank around him. AS far as I know, he's still hanging about, our new Neighborhood Mascot.

My second story is actually not mine at all, but Richard Walkup's, from West Chester, PA (my hometown, oddly enough)... I learned of it from BoingBoing, where much neat stuff is to be found. Anyway, apparently this guy's son watched a praying mantis eat a hummingbird! There are even pictures to prove it!!!

Man, Praying Mantisesses (what the hell is the plural of mantis ANYWAY?!) must be superbadass to skewer a freakin' hummingbird. Them things ain't slow, you know. OR small, comparatively speaking. Besides, if they name a kung fu style after you, you pretty much know you've made it to the big time in the animal world. Speaking of big time, this picture is way more awesome than words can possibly convey:

Sad Update: Apparently, on Saturday evening, when Dawn and I were out of town, Herbert died of unknown causes. He was found on the ground of my neighbor's yard, all stiff and whatnot. Fare thee well in the afterlife, dear Herbert. Ye shall be missed.

The RIAA Wipes Its Dick On The Curtains

2005-08-11T11:19:00.000-04:00

Photo apparently care of Modern Humorist

Sweet Jesus, the gall of these people is pretty fucking outrageous. Their new trick is slapping up posters in cities to try to capture the attention of young, hip potential criminals, urging them to stop all the downloading! That practice, in itself, is pretty tame, but the wording they've chosen is downright exploitative.

"Download Legally. Feed a musician" they say. Excuse me? This line of ridiculous bullshit that claims Napster, Kazaa and LimeWire are causing significant financial hardship to any musician at all is one hundred percent rotten, stinking, putrid pigshit. Britney Spears will STILL be able to afford a mink coat for her precious fucking ratshit, ankle-biting, puntworthy dog of hers both BEFORE and AFTER I decide to download her latest verbal diarrhea about pink hummers and diamonds at the cluuuuub. Unfortunately, however, musicians with talent are out there holding day jobs AND devoting significant time to a genuine artform, and not seeing any prospect of expanding their audience beyond the "local music scene".

Now, don't get me wrong, there's absolutely nothing wrong with a local music scene. In fact, it's an extremely important facet of any thriving cultural atmosphere, and should be nurtured. THAT is where I begin to see a problem. The music industry would rather nurture multi-million dollar kitsch that panders to the lowest common denominator rather than decentralizing its influence to pay equal attention to several "local scenes" which boast numerous small-time acts that show real promise and talent. At the same time, they tell us that WE are starving the poor musicians if we download the latest three minutes of pablum that they've foisted on us in the first place!!!

That brings me to my second point, which is fortunately a touch more encouraging. It seems that good ol' Eliot Spitzer is at it again, this time taking the selfsame music industry to task for bribing radio stations with crap for playing their manufactured aural abominations. Payola, they call it, and it seems at least one record company is facing up to its own filth. It's a start, I think. But the music industry has a whole lot more answering to do, and a whole lot more behavioral modification to follow up with, before it convinces me that I'm doing anything worse than they are by downloading a tune or two for free.

Tumbling Down The Uncanny Valley

2005-08-10T13:05:00.000-04:00

What a creepy, lifelike robot!!! My favorite part is her OJ gloves. This abomination "debuted" on June 9 this year at the World Expo in Japan. As far as robots go, I'm a huge fan, but this one just gives me the willies. Now I know that nobody asked me, but I like MY robots as UNlifelike as possible. We're talkin' Terminator before he got his Austrian Beefcake Skin. Shiny skull and all. I don't want to be talkin' to the sales rep at Staples and find myself wondering if she's got sprockets under her skirt rather than the traditional, human plumbing hardware. Not that I think of these things when interacting with Staples Sales Reps as it is... I really don't. I swear.

Anyway, back to the uncanny valley, a theory proposed by Dr. Masahiro Mori attempting to explain why zombies and humanoid aliens are so damn scary. It says that when things look allllmost human, but not quite, they slip into this "uncanny valley" realm, where we KNOW they're not "human" even though they bear some resemblance, and therefore find them supercreepy. It's a compelling theory, if a bit batty and ... er ... eccentric. I only say that because this fruitcake tries to include "handicapped people" on his little scale of inhumanity, and he includes them on a more negative "reaction level" than industrial robots. I guess I see what he's getting at, but come ON! That's a bit harsh, don't ya think?

Anyway, my point in posting about this bizarro human is that I'm siding early with the torch-and-pitchfork-bearing camp. These machines are nothing but trouble!!! I've SEEN the Matrix, and I want NO part of that enslavement of all humans garbage!!!

He's A Super Dick!

2005-08-09T15:03:00.000-04:00

I always thought Superman was kind of a prick. Now there's a whole website devoted to proving it! "Superman's Pal" indeed! Jimmy Olsen is a sucker of the grandest magnitude, from the looks of these comic book covers. Anyway, I just had to pop on in and let y'all know about this cuz it's simply too good to let slip through the cracks. I'm sure Recon has posted about it before, cuz he specializes in dicks, but here I am to make sure the rest of the civilized world learns the TRUTH about Superman and his propensity for dickery. Enjoy the galleries, folks.

I'll try to get back into regular posting, but the fit's still hittin' the shan, so to speak. Fear not, though, for my devotion to my adoring public will trump any adversity that seeks to derail me from my noble endeavor to entertain the masses with inane pictures and ridiculous pablum!!! See you soon, fellow psychonauts.

PS -- Anyone know where I can get ahold of a copy of the above CD?! I bought a copy in Ireland back in '98 and lost it like the irresponsible douche I am. Apparently Amazon thinks it's outta print and unavailable. Any advice would be supersweet. I know Mo Wax put it out. I checked out their website, but whoever designed it seems to have used Hellraiser Chinese Box technology, and now I don't have a soul left.

I'll Be Back...

2005-08-01T08:50:00.000-04:00

Due to a family emergency, posts from your friendly neighborhood Devo will be sparse at best for a while. Hopefully, things will return to normal eventually, but for the moment, Devo is hoping that his trusty friend Fucko will be able to hold down the fort... Many thanks to everyone for their patronage of my humble corner of the blogosphere up to this point. For now, though, fare thee well, my faithful compatriots.

Johnnie Walker Red

2005-07-30T11:27:00.000-04:00

Media.

I caught a thick second of the original Batman yesterday.
The wonder that is Katie Holmes aside, the original beat the living shit out of the recent incarnation. I realize there may be debate, but I'm right, so just start dealing.

Am I wrong to think that a booze with a woman's name would make a babillion dollars?
I'm thinking Martha Washington Gin.

I've been listening to a lot of music as of late, and since I promised Devo a real posting, here goes:

What I'm listening to:
Sonny Rollins - Saxophone Colossus
This may be the second-best subway album ever. Only five tracks, and a bit uptempo, but fucking high quality.

Pantera - Vulgar Display of Power
Not as good as Cowboys, but solid. Remember the scene from Old School were Ferrell sits watching TV and throwing empty bottles at the wall? Muted fury lies within this album - like a rabid dog on a chain, I wanted to see it loosed just to see what it could destroy.

JayLib - Champion Sound
Is there a backroom card game where rappers wager cameos? Anything with Talib gets an auto first round bye though. He's like the Clint Eastwood of hiphop - you may be singed, still smoking by his last offering, but you'll keep going back.

Morcheeba - Antidote
Remember that album Jefferson Airplane never released? Sometimes the change of singer can be the death rattle, can you imagine her throating 'Undress me Now'? Kind of rough, as vocals seem to quash production, but I dig the new direction. I might be the only one. Should sit-in on the backroom hiphop poker tourney next time around.

Transplants - Transplants
Somewhere between Orange 9mm, Operation Ivy and vintage Bosstones. Yeahyeah, it's three bands, fucking triangulate. Talks big, but good and playful.

Gorilla Biscuits - Start Today
Quick and sloppy. Greating music to cook to. They aint no Marshal Peanut though.

Common - Be
Still in the upper echelon of hiphop. 'Testify' is a great push-back to 'I used the love H.E.R.'. Pens a flawed gem by standards for him. Feel like I'm plugging into a Kirosawa movie - steady overall, with flashes of something greater. Waiting for Common's 'Dreams'.

Joe Henderson - The Blue Note Years
Put it back-to-back and you have five hours of great jazz. A tinge of background-ness, but fucking great.

Beach Boys - Pet Sounds
I'm from the heart of the East Coast and I don't surf - and yet I can't help but listening.

NicoShot

2005-07-29T12:00:00.000-04:00

So you thought brew was great all on its own? Granted this stuff is probably like swilling PBR out of an ashtray, but I'm all for consolidating vices. Now we just need the pint glass made of fried dough, served by nubile females, and we're good to go.

The Book That I Am...

2005-07-25T10:43:00.000-04:00

I'm honored and humbled to be a masterpiece by Gabriel Garcia Marquez.

I tried to read One Hundred Years of Solitude not too long ago, but I was derailed by an acute case of adult-onset ADD and a shiny object in the yard. I forget what the object was, but by the time I got back into the house, some cool sci-fi caught my eye, and before I knew it, One Hundred Years of Solitude is sitting on the shelf with a post-it note stuck in page one hundred and something. RIGHT before the revolution, too, dammit!!! Either way, just as an addendum to Friday's Internet-quiz barrage, I've managed to find a brand spanking new way to classify and identify myself! The "Which Book Are You?" Quiz! Thanks, Shakespeare's Sister, for the interesting link...

Anyway, despite my love for all things magical and fictional... I'm not sure how accurate this one is... Then again, I've never read Love In The Time Of Cholera either...

You're Love in the Time of Cholera!

by Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Like Odysseus in a work of Homer, you demonstrate undying loyalty by
sleeping with as many people as you possibly can. But in your heart you never give
consent! This creates a strange quandary of what love really means to you. On the
one hand, you've loved the same person your whole life, but on the other, your actions
barely speak to this fact. Whatever you do, stick to bottled water. The other stuff
could get you killed.

Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

What A Crock

2005-07-22T10:32:00.000-04:00

PS - Photo not actually "me"

I take serious contention with the most recent internet test I took. Yes, you read right, most recent. That means I've taken several. I rely on a series of interconnected computers to assign me an identity based on everything from my supposed intelligence level (122, according to these jokers... apparently that means I "have the ability to achieve success in life" HA!) to my purity level (apparently I'm one sick, twisted deviant fuck, because the internets tell me that I'm 79% corrupted with a "41% weirdness factor") to which Fantasy or Sci-Fi character I'd be if Fantasy or Sci-Fi characters actually existed (if any of you questioned that I'd end up as Yoda, then you don't read my blog nearly often enough). Now, if the above information isn't enough to tell you that I am a complete and utter nerd (and that I hate my job and would rather spend my perfectly good braintime taking inane, stupid, useless internet tests rather than advancing my career and contributing to the world at large) then you MUST be an even bigger nerd than I, and therefore probably deserve every wedgie and swirly you have ever gotten.

Anyway, recently I found out that my good blog-buddy, Chandira, actually despises nerds. She only scored a 9 on HER nerd test. Now, going back to my original point, I totally kicked her ass, as I expected, but I still only managed to score a

Wha? That's it? My beef with this test, and I think Chandira agrees, is that it focuses most heavily on computer nerdiness. Now, the concept "nerd" encompasses much more than simply the electronic dimension. I take great pride in my extensive Star Wars knowledge, my understanding of the back story that led up to the Lord of the Rings trilogy, the fact that I can name at least five role playing games (though I never had the smarts that it took to actually play them... I mainly liked the pretty pictures of orcs and other nerdy pretend creatures), the fact that I know the difference between a Manet and a Monet, my appreciation for books longer than two hundred pages and written more than fifty years ago (most with very few to no pictures, by the way) and the fact that I found Naoleon Dynamite engaging and inspiring rather than hilarious and slightly pathetic. I am a nerd, and damn proud. I think I deserve a more comprehensive nerd test so that my feelings can be validated and bolstered by the Great Oracle Internet! I beeseech thee, o grand amalgamation of silicon, transistors and Linux code, tell me how nerdy I truly am!!!

Oh, and if any of you "real people" out there decide to actually TAKE any of the tests I've linked to above, feel free to tell everyone YOUR scores in the comments section. Perhaps we can set up a totally sweeet competition! Who is the most vile, perverted, sick freak of nature, or the smartest cookie in the blogworld? Let's find out, shall we? And if you've managed to find any other slick tests that I haven't heard of, let me know! I'm always looking for new and creative ways for the Internets to categorize and characterize me!

I Got Nuthin'

2005-07-20T14:28:00.000-04:00

I'm still completely devoid of anything marginally interesting to say. Fortunately, today is a touch less humid than yesterday was, so I'm not quite as cranky, but it's still hot. That, and I have a dentist appointment in two hours, so I'm fretting over how many times I'm gonna get jabbed in the gums and poked in the teeth. I just know they're gonna try to drill the hell outta something up in my grillpiece. I gots soft ones, you see. Teeth, that is.

So while I'm reenacting scenes from Marathon Man, why don't you folks take a few shots with eBaum's Kitty Cannon? It's fun, and you get to blow up cats. What's not to like?

PS - My high score is 1,406 feet. I win.

Claustrophobic, Wet, Hot, Muggy Summer Days

2005-07-19T15:23:00.000-04:00

Sweet christ on a stick, folks! It's so disgusting here in this murky swamp of a Garden State, I can't even SEE straight, much less formulate an entertaining post. Keep in mind, my dear interweb friends, that I haven't the sweet, sweet luxury of "air conditioning" in my hidey hole home, so I resort to strapping ziploc baggies full of ice to my scrotum to get blessed relief. That makes things a bit messy, and really, I don't wanna break my 'puter.

But I CAN blog here at work. Theoretically. However, the blistering memory of thrashing in a heat-fevered sleep for a scant four hours last night leaves me slightly schizophrenic and extremely paranoid. Thus, I fear that clack clack clacking away at my wonderblog would simply enrage The Man and invite the wrath of the employer (which, like the Wrath of Khan, generally employs the use of Ceti Eels). At the moment, I'm hallucinating a Muscovite snowstorm burying my steaming, naked body under its icy weight.

But enough of my bitching, no? I shall do my best to leave you with positive thoughts, though that's gonna be admittedly tough. I can't even frickin' breathe it's so damn hot and humid. In fact, I recind any promise to stop bitching. The next fucking douchebag that tries to tell me that global warming is a myth gets a ten gague slug to the throat. And I got Santa backin' me up on this one:

That's right. No more lists for naughty and nice. He's packin' heat, and the bad kids are no longer getting a stocking full of coal. Unless, if by stocking you mean belly and by coal you mean lead. Then yes. That's exactly what they're getting.

This is Devo, the most Vitriolic of Monkeys, reporting from the steaming pits of Central Jersey. If I didn't know any better, I'd a thunk Dagobah and Hell mighta gotten a bit tipsy and had a sick, mutated lovechild... and here I am, smack in the rotten creases of its filthy grundle. Over and out. Have a swell evening. Enjoy my random links... And have a nice conversation in the comments section! That's always fun. I'll give you a topic. Rhode Island is neither a road nor an island. Discuss.

Armageddon It On!

2005-07-14T09:00:00.000-04:00

I had a really twisted, disturbing dream last night. Now, I try to keep this here blog light and airy, focusing on things like sex sheep and my hatred of Reality TV, but this dream was just too vivid and "real" not to tell anyone about.

It all started with Dawn, my buddy Omar and I at a bar, where we met Zach Braff. I'm a huge fan of his, so I was honored and delighted. He seemed to be a really cool guy, too. Either way, we all went back to Dawn's and my place to listen to music. Specifically, I wanted Zach to hear my friend's band, Transient. Turns out, he really enjoyed the music, and left saying we should all meet up some other time. It was a really nice, relaxing, fun experience. Unfortunately, however, it had nothing to do with the second part of the dream, which was much darker.

At the beginning of the second half, I found myself in a river. You know how things just sort of change inexplicably in dreams, well that's what happened. I was swimming in some sort of race with hundreds of other people in a really nasty, polluted river. The day was hazy and smoggy, but bright with diffused sunlight. In fact, I could see the sun as a dull, yellow ball behind the thick blanket of cloudsmog above. The river was very strange and unnerving; not only was the water slightly yellow with slime and crud, but it had a layer of this murky fog floating above its surface. As I swam, I could see the surface of this smoke above me... it almost looked like the fog that dry ice gives off, or how I would imagine quicksilver would look if you could swim in it. The underside of its surface shimmered like water when you see it from underneath, silvery and translucent. I knew it was nasty stuff, whatever it was, so I tried to breathe with my head above it, but that took a lot of strength, as I had to almost launch myself out of the water to get my head above it.

Anyway, I reached the end of one lap (this river was shaped more like a swimming pool than a river, and I'd reached the shallow end) and my family was there, on the ground, cheering me on, and telling me that I could swim faster if I changed my stroke... however, the stroke they suggested would not allow me to breathe the fresh air above the smog cover. I listened to them, changed from a butterfly-type stroke to a freestyle stroke and I DID swim faster. Then, all of a sudden, the water was gone, and I was flopping around on dry ground. It felt as if the water had receded, as it does right before a huge wave at the ocean. I got a bit confused, stood up, and looked around. There was absolute silence, followed by screams and people running. I looked up at the sky, and there was a second sun, quickly getting larger. I knew what it was immediately, I knew the end was coming and I knew there was nothing anybody could do. I tried to leap toward my family.

I didn't move quickly enough, though. The world flashed brilliantly, like a camera's flash bulb, only the light stayed and everything paused. Time stopped, a scream caught in my throat and though I remained conscious for only a fraction of a second, that fraction of a second lasted an eternity. It was the strangest feeling in the universe, yet I'd felt it before. Sound reverberated in my head and everything sort of echoed. Then blackness. Total blackness; but inside this blackness were murmurs and thoughts and feelings and movement. Again, this blackness lasted only a fraction of a second before I jolted awake, sweating and out of breath, but that fraction of a second lasted another eternity. It was so full of meaning and existence and voice and potential that it's ingrained in my mind forever. Just like the images of the second sun and the flash; I can never forget those.

Like I said, I knew that blackness. It was like the descriptions I've read of the so-called Bardo Realms written in the Tibetan Book of the Dead. I'd seen these nether realms before, in between sleep and waking, or under the influence of various substances I've toyed with. Experiencing them is a very profound and humbling thing. It usually causes an individual to question many things, and sometimes precipitates some kind of awakening, or at least sparks some intense curiosity. I'm questioning right now. I've explored so many different spiritual traditions in my life, yet I've fully accepted none of them. Initially I was baptized into the Catholic Church, but years of unsuccessful indoctrination coupled with inadequate answers to some basic questions made me extremely skeptical of that institution. So far, the different incarnations of Buddhism have provided the most insightful and valuable interpretations of our experience in this world to me. I don't know what that has to do with the dream, but I guess it's just background information to give you some insight on why this dream seems like it should be so meaningful to me.

The problem is, I don't know if dreams have any significance outside of their affect on one's psyche. I don't know if they can be prophetic, or if they are anything but the mind taking a little vacation, creating worldscapes that are only slightly outside the possibility of the waking world. But this dream was very loud, and I'm having a hard time ignoring it or relegating it to the realm of "frivolous mental activity". I know that almost everyone has their own understanding of dreams, and most of 'em are very very different. I imagine Edgar Cayce or Carl Jung would have an extremely different answer to this than perhaps Freud or Wyatt Ehrenfels and that's something I have a hard enough time with in itself. All four of them have amazing theories, and they are all very compelling and informative. I guess they all have something to say, even if none of them have the whole story. This is certainly something that warrants further thought...

Any of you guys had any interesting dreams lately? Better yet, any of you had any weird experiences with your dreams? I'd like to hear 'bout 'em...

Update: I found a great resource for interpreting your dreams on the WonderWeb. It's called Dreamgate, and its Library is chock full of great info. I highly suggest anyone interested in their dreams to check it out.

Michael Hutchence: Spinning and Asphyxiating Himself In His Grave

2005-07-12T15:34:00.000-04:00

I used to have such respect for INXS when I was a wee child. Those guys rocked harder than any band in the universe had. "Kick" was one of the first albums I ever had. I rocked out to it before I even knew what rocking out WAS. The only other two albums that have had such a seminal influence on me were Michael Jackson's Thriller and Billy Idol's Vital Idol.

Over time, two of these three institutions (you become much more than a mere human when you reach the kind of personality-shaping stardom that Jackson, Idol and Hutchence did) slowly crumbled before my maturing eyes. Michael Jackson literally crumbled as his face slowly melted away, he married two different monkeys, bought the Elephant Man's bones and went baby-petting apeshit. Then, Michael "I'll Fuck More Models Than You Can Even Dream Of" Hutchence managed to choke himself to death while playing a hearty round of bash-the-bishop. For shame, man, for shame. Fortunately, however, Billy Idol remains marginally sane and has yet to tarnish the venerable reputation he's built for himself. For that, I'll grant him the "Hero Of This Tangent" award. Now, back to Hutchence and his increasingly sad legacy.

Monday night, a show called Rock Star premiered. Not only did this show debase a hero of mine by whoring out his memory to the biggest vote-getter, but it stooped to reality fucking TV to do this. To rub a bit of salty goodness into this fresh wound, they recruited the anti-christ himself to produce this show: Mark Burnett. Avatar of all that is wrong with our society. Bearer of the flame of consumerist amnesia. Scourge of rational thinkers and intelligent TV watchers everywhere!!! OK, I am beginning to digress. The point is, Mark Burnett is dumping his most recent broadcast abortion on the memory of a rock legend. Given, this "legend" died while whacking off with a scarf roped about his neck, but whatever. Elvis Presley died on a toilet in a puddle of fetid bodily fluids. Jimi Hendrix suffocated on his own vomit. I could go on. So what? Now, back to the point. How many of you would have "voted" for Kurt Cobain, Lane Staley, Bob Dylan, Dave Matthews (most of you know that I hate Dave Matthews, but I still grudgingly give him the respect of having a very unique voice in the music world) or Janice Joplin? They all have awful, but unique, voices. They all lend credibility to the foundation that is rock'n'roll. Finding the most universally acceptable voice to replace the lead singer of an aged and dated rock band lends no credibility to anything but CBS's fattening coffers. It's pandering, pure and simple; and pandering to the petty whims of ADD teenagers is NOT the way to find new rock legends.

In fact, innovation and evolution are the enemies of the status quo. And Mark Burnett is the king of appealing to (and profiting from) the status quo. The triple whammy of this ridiculous charade they call "Rock Star", the original ridiculous charade they call "American Idol" and the manner in which focus groups determine the direction of our musical tastes, to me signals the death knell of actual talent and integrity in modern popular music. It's like we're heading straight back into the Spice Girls Dark Ages. Color by Numbers is fine if you're a child with your first coloring book. It is most certainly not the way to honor a band who once upon a time had the success and cachet of INXS. I imagine Michael Hutchence is rolling in his grave, wishing that the greedy producers in Hollywood would just leave his poor, manhandled legacy alone.

Did anyone actually manage to watch last night's display of greed without blacking out from rage and hatred? If so, I'd love to hear your thoughts, good or bad. I only made it through the first ten minutes before I puked in my mouth and had to change the channel to "Digging for the Truth" on the History Channel. That show is awesome, in a really uncomfortable way, and truly deserves a post of its own. Anyway, I hope to hear from anyone who actually watched "Rock Star". May God have mercy on your soul.

A Comprehensive Guide to Blogs and Blogging

2005-07-11T15:23:00.000-04:00

Maddox is the king. And he hits ye olde nail squarely on ye olde head with his account of bloggers, blogging and blogs. An excerpt:

Blogging: If minds had anuses, blogging would be what your mind would do when it had to take a dump.

I think he's trying to pick on us poor Bloggers out there, but really, he just speaks truth. I mean, who are we but a buncha whiny-ass egomaniacs who probably got punched a lot in second grade? OK, I only got punched once. But it was hard! And in the face! So dammit, I reserve the right to devote the remainder of my attention span left over after I've divided it among not giving a shit about my crappy job and paying attention to my lovely fiancee to whining about Africa and posting pictures of sex sheep! There. I said it. Oh yeah. That felt good. But now I'm all gooey.

As a completely unrelated side-note, I love Tool's song "Hooker With A Penis". Wonderful account of artists and their audiences. It was one of the first pieces that jolted me out of my very own dogmatic slumber.

It's Love Ewe!

2005-07-08T14:58:00.000-04:00

The ORIGINAL inflatable sheep! Accept no imitations! (honestly, I didn't know that inflatable sheep counterfeit was a burgeoning industry) Plus, it'll save you airfare all the way to New Zealand, where the men are men and the sheep are scared. Where velcro gloves are MORE than just a fashion statement... (use yer imagination) OK, I'm done picking on New Zealand. They've got a lovely country, full of hobbits and dwarfs and whatnot.

I gotta say, it's the garter belt that really gets me. Do you suppose REAL escort sheep wear those too? That's hot. In a totally platonic way.

Nerds Gone Wild

2005-07-06T11:14:00.000-04:00

WHEN

MEETS

Man, Ogre woulda had a field day with this guy. I take great pride in my nerdiness and all, but that's just going a bit too far.

Thanks, B2, for the cannon fodder...

Live 8: Sad To Say I Was Right

2005-07-05T16:55:00.000-04:00

Photo courtesy my beautiful fiancee, Dawn
As many of you probably know, I had the dubious honor of attending the cultural crapfest more widely known as Live 8 this past weekend in Philadelphia. I had hoped to see a celebrity beacon of hope, sending an important message about an area afflicted with extreme - yet not unpreventable or uncurable - poverty. I at least hoped for a resource that curious individuals could go to for an inspiring lesson about the roots of said poverty. These hopes were dashed and ground under the feet of several hundred thousand Dave-Matthews-Hungry sheep who wanted desperately to give lip service to a real and worsening crisis. I was touched. As in the following illustration:

Some things I kinda wanted to see:
Perhaps an explanation about how federally subsidized farms in America and the EU make it nearly impossible for an embryonic African economy to gain a foothold in the unforgiving world economy (good job, Bush and Blair... never thought I'd type THAT phrase devoid of irony or sarcasm). Or how monetary aid to Africa goes almost unnoticed because of how irresponsibly it is handled once it reaches its destination, often buying more guns for despotic warlords rather than helping anyone in need. And sadly, Malaria, a disease ill-understood in the industrialized West, went almost unmentioned.

But worse than the egregious omission of any specific policy recommendations was the way in which the concert was carried out, broadcasted and attended by opportunists of every shape and size.

As I walked toward the stage that morning, I saw dozens of concerned communists, libertarians, AIDS activists, UFO nuts, Scientologists and all manner of other loudmouthed weirdos handing out pamphlets that had nothing whatsoever to do with Africa or the crisis it's facing. That didn't surprise me. These people need to get their message out however they can, and since rational individuals don't take most of them seriously, an event peopled by one million MTV babies with severe ADHD and an attention span approaching that of a toaster is a perfect audience. "Thrust pamphlet in adolescent face. Walk away. Repeat." Of all the whackjob papers that I collected, I saw exactly one that had a valid point. Oddly enough, its point was virtually identical to the point of this post: the actions proffered by Geldof et al are NOT enough to alleviate poverty in Africa, and if executed improperly, will only serve to worsen the problem in the long term. I hope that doesn't mitigate the impact of this humble blog post... I swear I'm not as crazy as a Scientologist! Anyway, my point is, I saw every group BUT Africa solidly represented among the insane, placard waving, causeheads that showed up in Philly that day.

Once we cleared the pamphleteers, we plunged into the thick of humanity populating the Franklin Boulevard. Every fifty feet or so, I saw someone selling hot dogs, hamburgers, water, cotton candy, Italian Water Ice, veggie burgers, kielbasa, cheesesteaks, fried chicken, buffalo wings, cotton Live 8 Tshirts and turkey legs the size of my forearm. Now, I understand that people need to eat and all, but really, what I saw there was pure, unfetterd excess.

Finally, the coverage of this fiasco offered by MTV and VH1 was abysmal at best. After about an hour of standing around, girded on all sides by sticky, overweight concertgoers, I couldn't take it anymore. I retreated to the safe haven of the apartment we were staying at for the evening. However, rather than insulate myself from the horror that was happening a mere few blocks away, I decided to watch the "coverage" of this concert. Songs were interrupted midway to give "MC Lyte" the opportunity to interview people attending the show. She asked again and again "What have you learned today?" hoping to elicit at least one cogent, responsible response. Again and again, however, she was met with "Man, Africa is POOR!" or "I had no idea so many people were starving!" or "Black Eyed Peas kick ass!!!" or some other half-thought-out, marginally concerned sounding platitude. As I watched this painful effort to extract one semi-coherent thought from America's youth about the affair, I realized that I shouldn't expect any sort of intelligent answer to these questions from a thoroughly uninformed crowd. None of the issues I'd hoped these teens would cite were even covered at the show! No "official" handouts were even available, from what I saw.

I also wondered HOW in the WORLD one could be born and raised in modern America NOT knowing that Africa is dirt-poor and in need of some serious help. I remember being told as a kid that I should eat ALL my broccoli because kids in Ethiopia were starving RIGHT NOW. I had no idea what the wilted plant on my plate had to do with starving children, but I knew what Ethiopia was and I knew that kids were starving there; every night, too, if my mother was correct in her estimations. Yet people claimed ignorance of this reality prior to that savior of compassion, Bob Geldof and his horde of celebrities lighting the torch of understanding in a world darkened by ignorance. I don't buy it.

Meanwhile, record sales for most of the artists performing at the festival are doing pretty well...

If, in twenty years, Africa has a blossoming economy well on its way to self-sufficiency, all its warlords are deposed, disease is no longer at epidemic infection levels, and mothers are using the starving children of some other continent to urge their own children to finish their vegetables, I'll eat my hat. In fact, if I don't own a hat at that time, I'll go out, buy the most unpalatable top hat I can find, and sautee it in dog phlegm. However, if, twenty years hence, we still see Malaria, AIDS and Tuberculosis running rampant on that continent, and if at that point we still see photos of hunger-fattened youths with flies around their eyes, and we still see Sally Struthers waddling through the dirt-paved streets urging all of us to send her and her little poverty stricken urchins more Chocolate Yum Yum Bars, I will turn to Bob Geldof and friends, who will undoubtedly be lying on their death beds, from the look of him, and tell them "I told you so."

Friday Funny Animal Bloggin'

2005-07-01T12:43:00.000-04:00

OK, cuz Hungry Hyaena wants the funny, and cuZ he loves varmints and critters and whatnot, I'm a post some funny animal pictures JUST for him!!! Some may be repeats, but I don't care. Cuz they're funny. Let's go (thanks, Chandira, for the inspiration, and the first pic!)

Squirrels have no shame. Dirty, dirty, dirty.

Just what I need right about now...

Or perhaps a tall frosty glass of...

With a couple of

Fresh off tha grill!

THIS guy's got the idea:

There! Happy, HH?! I sure hope so...

By the way, everyone, have a Happy Independence Day!!! Go celebrate your "freedom" somehow. I'm gonna get unrelentingly drunk and do some astoundingly stupid shit. How 'bout you?

Taking A Piss on Civil Liberties

2005-07-01T09:48:00.000-04:00

Among the increasingly alarming "updates" to our nation's intelligence infrastructure the Bush Administration is gunning for, there seems to be a push for the formation of what amounts to a domestic intelligence police force. In other words, a "secret police". Oh Joy! It seems we'll be in good company once the goose-stepping begins.

Apparently one purpose of this new entity will be to staunch the proliferation of Georgie's favorite straw man, the dreaded WMDs. Now, if history is any teacher (which it obviously is not, if anyone's been paying attention recently), it will show that our record is not what you might call "stellar" when it comes to predicting where exactly these elusive WMDs might be found. But, that doesn't stop us from citing perfectly good "intelligence" that tells us JUST where they are and using said intelligence to prosecute an illegal war. This leads me to believe that the Administration could potentially point their finger at just about anyone they don't like, yell "Look! WMDs!" and bushwhack 'em (no pun intended). We done it before, we can do it again. That type of thing. And who's gonna stand in the way? America-hating liberal types? Nah. Too spineless. Call me paranoid. I won't hear you because I'll be busy hiding in my underground fallout shelter.

Oh well. What's a lonely blogger to do? Whine away, I suppose. Post witty pictures of Stormtroopers peeing, perhaps. Sit around waiting for the apocalypse, I guess... In the meantime, though, kiss your civil liberties goodbye. It was nice knowing you, America the Great...

More Meme Madness

2005-06-30T15:13:00.000-04:00

Disclaimer: accompanying photo has no relation to the following post. I merely want to show my loyalty to the dearly departed schizophrenic rock god who was Wesley Willis.

It must end!!! But my good buddy and fellow devotee of hippie, new age, feelgood, gibberish (yes, those are all simultaneously epithets AND compliments! I learned that lil' trick from Rob Brezny...) Chandira plowed me with a Movie meme, which I will faithfully process and post right the now. Perhaps one day New Jersey will dry out and cool down, and I'll have the energy to post an original hunk of Devo thought, but unitl then, my fellow proles will have to accept another fabulous entry from Memeland! I can smell your excitement from here. What the hell have you been eating anyway?!

1. The total number of DVDs, videos, and films I own.

I can't even use numbers properly to begin with. But if I could, I'd probably say... far more than I can count with one hand. Even if I had alien hands with like fifty fingers on 'em. That probably means that I have somewhere in the neighborhood of a hundred DVDs. Crappy, great and everywhere in between.

2.The last film I bought.

Ummmmm, it mighta been Labyrinth. Thing is, I usually don't remember actually buying these damn things. I kinda go into a trance or something and get all clammy and cold when I approach the DVD sale rack, my pupils dilate and I kinda black out. Sometimes I wake up in my car with a cellulose bag full of shiny hunks of plastic. Is that a bad sign?

3.The last film I watched:

Batman Begins. Fugging AWESOME movie. Makes me pine for the days of reckless hallucinogen consumption (any relatives who happen upon this blog can dismiss that last sentence. A joke I tell you! A figment of your imagination!) even WITH the visions of terror and apocalypse. Lemme just say, Tom "Whackjob" Cruise and Katie "Snaggletooth" Holmes are perfect for each other. I hope Xenu gets his act together and takes these two worthless piles of Thetan dung back to his pie in the sky alien slave ship sooner than later. OK, requisite Scientology hate rant for the day: check!

4. My favorite five films of all time, ever.

Five? That's it? OK... ummmm... here goes... er... Right now, at this moment, I'd have to say they are:
The Last Temptation of Christ
Pi
The Matrix, in its entirety
Jacob's Ladder
The Spanish Prisoner

All above "favorite movies" are subject to change without notice.

5. Tag three people and have them blog this.

Hell no. In the words of Paul the Spud, "ALL MEMES DIE WITH ME"

Damn... Tagged Like Harley The Guinea Pig...

2005-06-28T11:16:00.000-04:00

Thanks to Paul The Spud, I can't languish in my East Coast Sauna all day, drooling on my keyboard and staring blankly off into cyberspace. No, I have to answer questions and do thinky things in my brain. OK, let's see if I can do this...

1. What were three of the stupidest things you have done in your life?

Well... oddly enough, some of the stupider things I've done in this life have been seminal moments leading to the very existence I now enjoy immensely. For example, if I'd have been more attentive to my own personal welfare while living in Boston, I might not have ever bailed on trying to make a life for myself there. Thusly, I would not have moved back to PA and I would not have ended up engaged to marry the most wonderful female in existence. So I'll assume that the question is aiming at regrets rather than simply stupid things one has done, and quote the stupidest things I've done that have garnered some modicum of remorse.
1) I didn't pay attention to the danger signals that my nose sent my brain upon opening that two-week-old container of leftovers the other weekend. My intestines paid me back for that particular act of idiocy. "Gym Socks" is NOT an accpetable bouquet for kung pao chicken.
2)Not adding that last little length of edging around the garden this past weekend. It rained really hard, and now there's a trail of mulch winding down the driveway. And mulch doesn't belong in the driveway.
3)Not reading as rigorously as I should be reading. I'm only a third of the way through A Canticle For Leibowitz, and I started it almost 2 weeks ago... *sigh*

2. At the current moment, who has the most influence in your life?
My gorgeous fiancee, Dawn, of course.

3. If you were given a time machine that functioned, and you were allowed to only pick up to five people to dine with, who would you pick?
Dine with, eh? Well, in hopes of either settling some age-old debates or at least sparking a kickass food fight, I'd hafta go for the following:
Jesus
Charles Darwin
Bill Hicks
Maynard James Keenan
Paul The Apostle (I've got my own issues with THAT douchebag, so if nobody initiates the foodfight by the time pie is served, that bastard gets one RIGHT in the grillpiece)

4. If you had three wishes that were not supernatural, what would they be?
Not supernatural? What is THAT supposed to mean? Aren't wishes kinda automatically supernatural? I mean, if a situation doesn't exist, wouldn't arranging for that situation to come into being by means of wishbone breakage, star wishing, birthday candle blowing or praying to the holy father in his ivory throne in the clouds... be by default... kinda supernatural? Oh well, who am I to argue? Here goes:
First I would wish for my impending wedding to be the party of the century, with no hitches, glitches or bitches (I couldn't think of another appropriate rhyme with hitches or glitches, so forgive the rather weak conclusion). Of course, that means utter intoxication for all involved, dancing 'till dawn and at least ONE person passed out in the corn field. (yep, the site has a corn field. How awesome is THAT?)
Then I'd wish for at least a guaranteed four weeks of vacation per year in my fun, well-compensated, socially responsible and totally secure job (which is really the wish, I guess).
And finally, I'd wish for the ability to transmit total enlightenment to anyone via simple conversation.

5. Someone is visiting your hometown/place where you live at the moment. Name two things you regret your city not having, and two things people should avoid.
Not having:
A location outside the illustrious chemical waste dump known as New Jersey
Any modicum of expansive wilderness in which to frolic
To avoid:
Our BRAND NEW Wal Mart!!!!! It's even got a Subway sandwich shop! You NEVER need to leave!!!! Fuck you very much, Janice Mirnov, Mayor of East Windsor!!!(my hatred of Wal Mart is in no way intended to endorse any sort of joy over the untimely death of Sam Walton's son)
and Theo's Lakeside Tavern. That's MY bar, bitch! We don't want no outta towners muckin' up the place.

6. Name one event that has changed your life.
Getting engaged to my lovely Dawn. Super pain in the ass, she can be, but we loves her just the same.

7. Tag 5 people.
No. I'm feelin' ornery. So I'll only tag 3.
Recon first. I think I tried to tag him last time, too. But he's too cool for this type of thing. So I'll do it again, expecting different results.
Next, the inimitable Miss Kimberly get the tag treatment.
And, since she's about to re-join the rest of us in workland, USA, I'll hit up DeadPanAnn (congrats, BTW)
If anyone else is feeling left out, and wants me to smack 'em with a hearty tag, lemme know, I'll be happy to let you have it!

Update: TC Byrd is getting the Devo Smackdown with the big fat memestick.

Pimpin' Blogs Cuz It's Too Hot To Write

2005-06-28T08:41:00.000-04:00

It's Dagobah wet outside and I ain't feelin' particularly creative, funny, angry or otherwise writerly yet this week. It's probably due to the opressive humidity, and the fact that I spent the weekend embarking upon the long, dangerous journey towards a wedding. I feel like a friggin' Viking warrior, only instead of pillaging, I have to taste freakin' cakes and canapes. What the fuck is a canape?

Oops, I started writing. I promised myself I wasn't gonna do that. But I DO feel the need to share a precious treasure with alla y'all. I found a sweet blog the other day. It's a roundup of all the day's best airfares from the nation's busiest airports. This may not sound like a big deal to you ignorami, but it's huge to me. You see, I just found out that I'll be taking my third Caribbean vacation of the year this coming December. I don't deserve it, I know, but shit happens, no? Anyway, none of the destinations Dawn and I have had to reach have been what you might call "easily accessible", and each of our journeys have cost us mightily. If we'd had access to this cutesy lil' website when we were searching for fares to Belize, we might now be a few hundred dollars richer. So if any of my faithful are regular travelers, I suggest the occasional hop on over to The National Report, authored by The Travel Guys. From there, you can click on whichever individual city you plan on traveling from. It's a phenomenal resource, and one I'm only too happy to share with everyone out there.

Enjoy! And if anyone's got some creativity to spare, chuck it on over here!

I Just Puked In My Mouth A Little Bit

2005-06-24T14:57:00.000-04:00

Ever heard of Brian Peppers, registered sex offender?

Scariest. Dude. Evar.

If you haven't gathered, don't click on the above link unless you have a significant reserve of intestinal fortitude from which you are prepared to draw.

Where NOT to eat

2005-06-24T14:47:00.000-04:00

Got a hankerin' for some good ol' Pad Thai?

Try to avoid this place... I have a bad feeling about it...

Chronic Candy, anyone?

2005-06-24T14:32:00.000-04:00

Honestly, this is re-goddamn-diculous. Do we really NEED weed-flavored candy? Probably not. But, as usual, SOMEBODY'S gotta get their licks in. No pun intended. heh heh.

Worst part is, the stuff won't even get ya good'n'baked. It's all a ruse! A dirty trick!!!!

I'm gonna go out and buy some right now.

PS - Doesn't that dude smoking the cigarette bear a striking resemblance to Javier Castillo?

SuperAndy explains the Dangers Inherent in Flag Burning

2005-06-23T15:20:00.000-04:00

I imagine we've got slightly more pressing issues to address as a country than a few wackjobs who decide to burn an American flag. I'm referring to the incomprehensible actions of a Legislature bent on waving the jazz hands in front of anyone trying to see what's "really going on." And they say Democrats are "obstructionist". Putting forth a Flag Burning Amendment RIGHT NOW would seem to obstruct much more than would a few Democrats intent on saving the Fillibuster. I can see Karl Rove right now, waving his hands "Nothing going on here folks! Just us good upstanding... WAIT, THERE'S A FLAG BURNING COMMIE!!! LET'S GIT 'IM!!!!"

Beyond the obvious insanity of focusing on an outrageous bid to exploit coerced patriotism (either you're with the Amendment or you are my enemy), it seems we should perhaps focus on things like responsible education, or addressing the burgeoning prison population (composed mostly, by the way, of non-violent drug offenders). Now don't get me wrong, I love freedom, justice and liberty as much as anyone out there, and I respect those who have given their lives for said freedom, justice and liberty... but as one of my favorite social critics and comedians, Bill Hicks pointed out, "No one... I repeat, no one ever died for a flag. They may have died for freedom, which, by the way, includes... the freedom... to burn the fucking flag." (Thanks Paul the Spud, for that quote)

Finally, I am bemused by the fact that our Administration has put forth not one, but TWO Amendments to the Constitution based not in increasing freedom, but limiting it. (keepin them damn fags in check was the first one... 'member?) That is always a recipe for disaster. Just ask those who know anything about that legislative abortion, The Prohibition.

Well, all the rational thought I could scrape together can't hold a candle to the inimitable science of SuperAndy... Thaks for pointing all that out to me, man. I owe ya one!

image via evilkid.com

Holy Buggery, Batman!

2005-06-23T13:19:00.000-04:00

I mean it! Apparently Our Lord And Saviour, Jesus Christ, wants us to go around banging each other in the ass until we're happily married to our life mate. Confused? This awesome article helps to debunk some of the myths surrounding anal sex and God's Divine Will. Who'd a thunk that Cell Block F is Holiest place in America?

I love Christianity like the fat kid loves cake.

Your Stock Is Rising, Number Two

2005-06-22T12:15:00.000-04:00

Thanks to the Smart Patrol for bringing this to my attention...

I dunno what it is either, but it seems I'm becoming quite valuable in recent months...

Keep the hits coming, my faithful minions!!!

Pimpin' Chimps Like A Gimp With A Limp

2005-06-22T08:37:00.000-04:00

Perhaps you've noticed the "NEW, IMPROVED" moniker I've added to the Monkeys For Helping link over in my sidebar. If you have, and you've clicked it, then you know that my good buddy Recon has joined the blogger Dark Side at last! Together, we shall rule the Galaxy as father and son! I highly suggest you click that there link (or this one, if you like) and check out what he has to offer now that he's a Blogger like me, rather than a tblog simpleton.

Welcome, Recon! Care for a glass of Kool-Aid?

Stephen Starr Gets Today's Asshole Award!

2005-06-21T08:10:00.000-04:00

If you're unfamiliar with Stephen Starr, Philadelphia restauranteur, owner of Iron Chef Morimoto's eatery and brand-spanking-new inductee into the douchebag hall of fame, I suggest you visit his website momentarily, to get a bit of background on his achievements in the Philadelphia restaurant scene and to get an idea of the sheer size of his ego. Then perhaps you'll get a better idea of why I'm spitting vitriol his way on this fine summer morning.

OK... pretentious website aside, Starr has managed to spread even more feces all over the Live 8 fiasco that's poised to envelop Philadelphia in a week and a half. He has just announced (second blurb down, "Live Eat") that he will recreate two of his ridiculously overpriced celebrity eateries backstage at the enormous "concerned rock star" circle-jerk July 4th weekend. Not only will the public have no access to these eateries, but the rock stars will be served two-hundred dollar sushi platters in between sets imploring us to give more money to Africa!!! If that kind of elitism and arrogance doesn't smack of hipocrisy, I don't know what does. Furthermore, this just cements the idea in my head that this whole Live 8 scheme is nothing but a huge marketing campaign dressed up all pretty like a Save Africa awareness charity. Everyone is running around, excited about how much we're gonna be doing for the noble savages a half a world away. This is merely lip service, thinly veiling the dollar signs and bottom lines dancing in their dreams.

That's two thus far, Shooter.
1) Fuck You, Bob Geldof.
2) Fuck You, Stephen Starr.

Photo courtesy unoriginal.co.uk

Jesus: Soft On Crime

2005-06-20T15:48:00.000-04:00

Found this awesome lil' pic on some dude's blog. I think it came from Mad Magazine originally... If Dubya ran against Jesus, here's what his campaign would look like. Anyone can sling mud at Kerry, but it takes panache to sling mud at Jesus!

I hope this makes Pat Robertson's head explode.

PS - sorry for the crappy image quality, I had to resize the damn thing so's it fit!!!

"Sir" Bob Geldof Is A Giant Douche

2005-06-17T13:42:00.000-04:00

He seems to care a whole lot about African poverty... and I'll bet he does. But I'll also bet he has very little earthly clue as to WHY so many of those poor suckers are starving. Worse yet, I'll bet a frighteningly low percentage of folks who will be attending his "Save The Noble Savage" concerts all over the Western World have the slightest idea of what's truly going on behind the scenes either. Everybody will nod their heads in agreement as Bono tells us of how hungry the fly-eyed youths of Ghana are. Everyone will pad a tear from the corner of an eye as Chris Martin tells us about how British cattle are paid more than the average African. And we'll all jam to their righteous tunes in the meantime.

A day later, everyone will be pleased when the leaders of the G8 emerge from their Edinburgh meetingplace, waving to reporters and triumphantly announcing that they will raise aid to Africa by X billion dollars. They'll pat themselves heartily on each others' backs and merrily go back to Washington or London or wherever they've come from and hope that the pesky rock stars have gone home.

And home they will have gone. Poverty in Africa, however, will not have budged. And no amount of monetary aid shipped over on boats or helicopters will fix that.

Some of the most pressing problems start at a very frighening place, and in a very ominous manner. They start in the cotton fields of Mississippi. They start in the grain fields of Kansas. They start in every federally subsidized farm that America is so proud of. I can't describe the complexity and mind-boggling exploitation being perpetrated the world over as well as this article does. It's tough to swallow, and it opens the door to many decisions we must make as citizens of extremely wealthy nations if we want to take this Live 8 garbage seriously.

I merely connect this whole debacle to Live 8 and Bobby Geldof because I will be in Philadelphia on July 2, atop an apartment building, observing the festivities from afar. I plan to watch carefully for all the important information that the artists will undoubtedly deluge us with. I do not, however, anticipate hearing anything about the US needing to cut subsidies to our farmers. No matter how progressive and charitable we want to be seen as, I don't think we're ready to accept any sort of course of action that could be seen as potentially "hobbling" to the international community, no matter how much we end up looking like the wicked Sherriff of Nottingham.

Do any of you think that America -- or any other member of the G8, for that matter -- is willing to face up to some of the less palatable factors contributing to Africa's poverty? Do you think that Bob Geldof, or Bono, or Chris Martin, or ANY of them are willing to pay higher taxes, to pay more money for staple food items or to sacrifice any of their first-world convenience for the benefit of poor, starving Africa? Lemme know what you think! And if you think I'm just a giant turd sandwich, let me know that too.

Giggity Giggity!

2005-06-17T11:10:00.000-04:00

Oh yeah!!! It seems that Stewie, Quagmire and co. will soon be starring in their first full length, STRAIGHT TO DVD feature film!!! Not only will it be unrated, it will also be STRAIGHT TO DVD!!!

This is good because I don't want to waste a hundred of my precious, green dollars to see it repeatedly in our sketchy, neighborhood, stickyfloor theaters. Instead, I can consume copious amounts of beer on my couch and goggle vacantly at the hilarity unfolding before me in a pleasantly beligerent stupor! Bully on you, Seth McFarlane!!!

Sid Meier pwns Me

2005-06-16T13:44:00.000-04:00

I saw this on Metafilter, and I had to click. It's a link to a trailer for Sid Meier's Civilization IV (bear with the GTA San Andreas trailer, the Civ trailer is worth it). This means nothing but trouble for yours truly. I lost days and weeks to Civilizations I through III. Now that IV is coming out, I sympathize with the poor geeks in the trailer.

"You didn't go to the bathroom for 3 days?"

"I said I didn't get up for three days."

I'm jiggling with nerdy excitement right now.

Image via www.computer-nerd.biz
Yes, they really do exist.

Gifts For Stalkers and Creeps!

2005-06-14T14:54:00.000-04:00

A German company will now enable you to carry around someone else's DNA on your neck, or better yet, give the ULTIMATE stalkergift! That's right, little globs of DNA embedded in jewlery! DNA4U is a company specializing in extremely creepy earrings and pendants. They also have an awesome engrish website, which you really should check out. This is gonna be huge among the Billy Bob Thornton, blood-in-a-vial set. The company rationalizes its bizarre idea by saying this: "In former times people carried the hair curl of the friend. In the 3. Millenium it is the DNA of them." Precisely. I carry the DNA of the friend wherever I go! Why shouldn't you??

Crazy German bastards. That's just creepy. Like David Hasslehoff.

Ann Coulter Gets Effed In The A!

2005-06-13T15:28:00.000-04:00

Ann Coulter, hyper-conservative douchebag extraordinaire, apparently has a very hungry asshole. Witness as she tosses the salad -- and worse -- on the first date. What a whore. A disconcertingly attractive, transvestite whore.

Seriously, though, you really should click that first link, if nothing else. It's pure genius, and everything about it makes me feel better about the world in general.

They're Watching You

2005-06-08T14:35:00.000-04:00

Yep, those clever varmints in Congress are at it again! The Federal government just got even MORE power to pry into YOUR life! The Patriot Act was not only reauthorized today, but expanded. Now the FBI can dig up even MORE info about you without your consent OR knowledge! I imagine that quite a few of my readers are pretty unfamiliar with a lil' document called the Bill of Rights. Well, it's pretty much the only thing standing between you and me, and an extremely inquisitive and not entirely benevolent juggernaut of a government. Yes, there actually IS something protecting us and giving us actual, tangible liberty! Freedom! The ability to do what you wanna do! In fact, without that fragile sheet of vellum paper, I probably wouldn't be able to regale you with humorous anecdotes and waste your perfectly good work time with pictures of squirrels and pretty golfers practicing fellatio on their newly-won trophies! And I CERTAINLY wouldn't be able to post pics like this:

I do really have a point in this here tirade. It is simply to take whatever advantage you can of the liberties that hundreds of thousands have died for -- and are ostensibly dying for right now. Do what millions of others around the globe cannot, and what we may soon not be able to do either. Take what little time we have left and be a TRULY patriotic American. Question your leaders. Demand accountability. Phone a senator. Write an email to a governor. Get together with some friends and drive down to the local town hall and talk with some elected officials. GET INVOLVED goddammit! If you don't, you might very well wake up one day to find that a van from "Flowers By Irene" has been parked across the street from your house for three weeks and that there's an inexplicable heavy breating sound on the phone during every conversation you have, and it's NOT your mother-in-law.

East Germany boasted almost as many spies on their payroll as there were regular citizens during the height of the Cold War. Ominously, worldwide military spending just hit Cold War levels recently, and our fair USA is pretty much the only country left capable of tossing THAT much cashola at violence and the capacity to create violence. We still have it in our power to stop a frightening slide backward; though at this point it's gonna be a long journey back to freedom. This long journey, however, must begin with one small step. Take that step. Because only YOU can prevent forest fires. Or... take a bite outta crime? I dunno. Go do something productive, you lazy bitches.

Kids Draw The Darndest Things

2005-06-07T10:30:00.000-04:00

Every once in a while, I find an artist who deserves to be pimped to the world at large. Dave Devries might just be one of 'em. Or perhaps he is the unwitting crusher of dreams and slayer of young, fragile egos. He takes drawings done by young children (you know, the really ugly -- yet touching and sweet -- ones that get magnetted to the fridge) of monsters and superheroes and reinterprets them into fantastic adult paintings. Here's a pretty cool example:

I remember when I was a kid, and they forced ME to draw stuff. They'd fawn over my imaginative interpretations of things from hot-air balloons to tea mugs. I knew these drawings sucked. I knew what "real" art looked like, and I knew that I had to be an adult to make actual, viable, pretty pictures. But I didn't mind that the adults told me that I drew pretty stuff too. Now, if some schmoe decided to take one of my admittedly crappy drawings and turn it into an actual REAL cool painting... I honestly don't know if I'd be proud to have my very own scrawling be the inspiration for an honest-to-goodness piece of artwork, or if I'd just be crushed to have an adult basically say "THAT'S not how to draw a superhero, THIS is how to draw a superhero!" Like Crocodile Dundee and the would-be-mugger with the "knife".

What would YOU think if an artist were to reinterpret YOUR crappy childhood drawings in an grownup, artistic manner? Let me know!

(thanks, BoingBoing!)

Chris Martin Makes No Sense

2005-06-07T08:14:00.000-04:00

OK, I admit that usually I'm very critical of ubercorporate, sycophantic, populist, pandering megamusic, but for some bizarre reason I actually like Coldplay. I like them despite their arrogant, imitation-Radiohead style. I like them despite their obnoxious tendencies to politicize their music. I like them despite Chris Martin's behemoth juggernaut of an ego. I like them despite their fruity, whiny, girly songs. I just plain like 'em, and I'm gonna run out to devil-WalMart this afternoon on my lunch break to pump more money into the very system that seeks to keep me sedated and full of ubercorporate, sycophantic, populist megamusic. Yes, I am going to put one more brick in the wall. However, I will also point out that the lead singer of this cash cow Coldplay, Chris Martin, is completely batshit insane. Which gives him a few saving-grace cool points. Listen to this comment he made in response to a negative concert review given by the New York Daily News (paragon of responsible journalism that it is):

“That’s the great thing about people who hate us,” he said. “We can suck out the energy and make it into something positive. It’s like in ‘Back to the Future,’ where you have this device that can turn garbage into a time traveler.” (quoted from MSNBC)

WHAT?! That makes NO sense. HOW in the world did you manage to connect a bad review to the Flux Capacitor? When did you start traveling through time??? I want a few hits of whatever you're smoking, you pock-marked loony-bird! OK, fine, I'll go out and stick a few bills in your bloated underpants and shut up. See? I can be an obedient culture slave too!!!

Science is for Suckers!

2005-06-03T15:30:00.000-04:00

OK, one last post, and then I'm gone for the weekend. This one is just too precious to pass by. Some LiveJournal guy working at Borders found a pretty obscure graphic novel (that's comic book for you non-geek types) apparently produced by Jerry Falwell or some other HyperChristian megadouche, and decided to share it with his readership. He scanned in a few pages, and Wowie Wow Wow, to quote Walken the Great.

This book is phenomenal. It "proves" that God created the dinosaurs. Then, Evil Fallen Angels teamed up with them, and together they tried to blow up Noah's Ark. Yes, you read right. BUT!!! The GOOD Angels stopped them!!! Hooray, good angels!!! And all of a sudden, the dinosaurs all died. Simultaneously. And with their necks arched back, as if they were struggling for air (the good angels drowned them, you see).

Of course, this guy probably has very little familiarity with rigor mortis, and he probably hasn't checked out too many random roadkill carcasses to confirm that most vertebrates end up in that arched-neck position because the muscles connected to their cervical vertebrae contract post mortem, arching the neck naturally. But I digress.

For a hell of a knee-slappin' good time, please check out this link. The images alone are worth it, but this guy's narration is pretty spot-on as well.

Picture of the Day

2005-06-03T11:19:00.000-04:00

I don't think this particular picture needs any commentary. Hey, why don't we have a caption contest?! Winner gets a kiss right on the trophy.

Well I'll Be...

2005-06-03T10:34:00.000-04:00

I just discovered (or re-discovered) that my alternate-universe-gay-lover (Maynard James Keenan) has a son named Devo. I think I knew that, but really, my admiration for the products that man has sold to me is in no way related to my choice of a nickname. Have a seat on Uncle Devo's knee, and lemme tell ya a story.

The nickname comes from Ireland. Or, rather, it comes from the people I hung out with while we all lived in Ireland, "studying" abroad. In the beginning, I was affectionately known as Stevo. That's my real name, you see, Steve. However, affection grew into friendly belligerence, fueled by Guinness Stout and Devil's Bit hard cider (which, by the way, came in 2 liter bottles! America: take note, if we're gonna commit ourselves to drinking shit booze, at LEAST put it in gonzo-sized containers, for simplicity's sake; we're GONNA drink it all, we promise), and slurred speech transformed the word "Stevo" into a much-easier-on-the-palate "Devo". That nickname stuck like hairy on an ape.

So, Maynard, if you're out there (and Mark Mothersbaugh, too), I didn't mean to gank your kid's/band's name! I am a victim of circumstance! Very inebriated circumstance!

Don't Tread On Me... Or I Will Break You

2005-06-02T11:41:00.000-04:00

I haven't been much into this whole "John Bolton, UN Ambassador" thing because I'm simply overwhelmed by the number of ideologues and douchebags that Bush and his buddies are cramming into the US government; I just can't even fathom the hijinks they're trying in other countries, much less an alleged consortium of countries supposedly working together. The arrogance this administration shows on a daily basis is stunning to me, but I've very rarely actually SEEN any of these jokers going to work, mouthing off or making my country look like a gang of belligerent, inbred hillbillies. One of the few instances where I actually SAW such flabbergasting and outrageous behavior just happened a few moments ago, thanks to metafilter, which featured a link to this video clip. It's John Bolton (who looks like a slightly more evil Teddy Roosevelt, eager to use that big stick he carries with much gusto, and simply bypassing the whole speaking softly part) presumably explaining to the UN why he should be the US Ambassador. Oy. I think my eyeballs almost exploded from incredulity and other large words as I watched this assclown mouth off like a TRUE Murrican.

Now, I'll be the first to admit that the UN is in serious need of help. It's in a pretty pathetic state. But to suggest... no... to outright SAY that the US intends to be the puppeteeer behind any initiatives the UN decides to undertake in the future is the absolute WRONG direction in which to steer this organization. He blatantly says that all other nations should be subjugated to the will of the US and that if the UN doesn't like that idea, well, he's sorry.

whatwhatWHAAAT?! Escuse me, sir? When the fuck did you start channeling Hitler, you maniac?!! Behind Bolton's words I saw a power hungry tyrant waiting to be born. This tyrant isn't necessarily an individual; it's American Empire just waiting to hatch. And when that happens, I doubt the world will be quite as conciliatory as it has been thus far.

Johnny Number 5 Is Alive!

2005-06-01T11:20:00.000-04:00

"No disassemble, Ste-pha-nie!" Ah, the wise words of a sentient robot... they echoed through time yesterday, as our fearless leader explained to the White House Press Corps that certain individuals being held in detention at Guantanamo and several other undisclosed locations have been trained "in some instances to disassemble -- that means not tell the truth." Yes, that's a quote from his speech.

And, Mr. President, in the words of Inigo Montoya "I do not think it means what you think it means". In fact, it means to take apart. In the way Johnny Number Five took apart the grasshopper. Unfortunately, though, Stephanie couldn't "reassemble" the grasshopper. This made Johnny Five very sad indeed.

The moral of this story is that our President is a funny guy. Not intentionally, unfortunately, but hilarious nonetheless. I heard the quote on NPR, and I almost felt bad for the poor lil' guy. Kinda in the same way I felt sorry for Curious George every time he got himself into trouble and the Man With The Brown Hat had to come bail him out. I'll bet ol' G Dub got a good, stern talking to from the Man With The Bald Head after he got back home from THAT news conference. "No HoHo's for you today, mister! You've been a naughty monkey!"

OK, I know that was a really easy shot. But c'mon! We don't get too many news conferences from this administration. And every one is chock full of gold. SOMEONE'S gotta don the Captain Obvious cape here! Well, rest assured, friends and neighbors, for HERE I AM! (By the way, Mr. President, I think the word you were reaching for is "dissemble"; THAT means not tell the truth. Just lookin' out for ya, that's all!)

Image care of Jonny-five.com

Now It Burns When I Pee!

2005-05-31T08:05:00.000-04:00

Thanks, B2, for this nifty Meme Infection. The itching is already beginning to subside. As most of my readers probably know by now, I'm a huge nerd, so I am big on "reading". So without any further ado, Here are my answers to the nerdquestions put to me by my Toner Mishap buddy.

1. Total number of books I've owned.
Like, you mean, EVER? Jeez. Lots. I've been a hypernerd ever since I ran headlong into a cast-iron radiator when I was learning to walk. Now I have a sweet scar on my forehead. I have no idea what the correlation between that incident and my love of absorbing knowledge, but I am convinced that the two are connected. Like Bruce Banner, he had to get zapped with Gamma Rays to get HIS superpowers. So maybe I'm kinda like that, only instead of muscles, I got brain. So anyway, since I'm good at reading, not counting, I have no way of accurately answering this question. So I'll say ... one MILLION?

2. Last book I bought.
Well, I've got three books currently en route to my address right now, via the trusty US Postal Service. One is a study guide for the General Management Aptitude Test (yes, I'm taking the wonderful journey to Bidniss Skool. In the footsteps of Stevo from SLC Punk, I am going undercover to take The Man down from the inside. Watch out David Geffen, your ass and your beautiful beachfront property will soon be mine, ALL MINE!!!) Er, anyway, the other two books are gifts. And since I'm pretty sure my dad doesn't read this here blog (he's not as much of a hypernerd as I am, and as such, doesn't read quite as much. That, and the Internet is still his Black Monolith, confusing him in ways only Stanley Kubrick's monkeys have been confused before... so I got him audio books...) I can tell y'all the secret. I bought him "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance" and some audio book about Basic Buddhism. I'm convinced he's an undercover Buddhist. HE probably doesn't even know it yet. But after absorbing these CDs, he'll be like the next Yoda. Only taller. And a little less wrinkly.

3. Last book I read.
Er, embarassingly enough, I'm on a bit of an ADD kick at the moment. I haven't "finished" a book since January, but I've picked up about eight. The last one I've "finished" was Jimmy Buffet's egomaniacal yet jaunty and fun retrospective "A Pirate Looks At Fifty." Part travelogue, part money-grubbing attempt at making peace with the fact that his music sucks anymore. I suppose it's worth a read, if you're interested in sea-planes, washed up rock stars or the Amazon and Colombia.

4. Five books that mean a lot to me.
Five... woof. There are so many... I'll give it a shot...

1. Nietzsche's "Thus Spake Zarathustra" broke many tablets that had once enslaved me. To him I owe much of my freedom.
2. Dostoevsky... but which one? It's gotta be a tie between Crime and Punishment and The Brothers Karamazov. C&P for cathartic entertainment and "finding yourself" value; Bros. K. for exploring the complexities of finding transcendence in a society incapable of accepting transcendent experience as valid.
3. Henry Miller's "Tropic of Cancer" Nobody writes like this guy.
4. Ken Wilber's "A Brief History of Everything" Incredibly compelling ideas about where we came from, where we're going and why the hell everyone thinks THEIR story is the RIGHT story.
5. Herman Hesse's "Siddartha" is proof that great things CAN come in small packages.

5. People who I'll infect with this meme.
Do I even KNOW six people? Let's find out:
KIMBERLY (AKA Desert Eagle, Point Five Oh)
Recon
Bourbonbird
Deadpanann
Hungry Hyaena
and Rachel

I Find Your Lack of Faith Disturbing...

2005-05-27T10:17:00.000-04:00

How awesome was Revenge of the Sith? Well, I don't think I need to tell you, because first of all, everyone in the galaxy has already seen it, and if you haven't, then the only logical explanation was that you were caught smuggling the plans for a deadly space station to the Rebel Alliance and are being held captive by the most frightening space villain in recent history. Or you just don't like Star Wars. But that second explanation just doesn't make sense. Like the Chewbacca Defense.

Anyway, in the wake of seeing such a majestic spectacle as that movie, I decided to post a link to one of the coolest juxtapositions of Star Wars hyerfandom and heresy that I've ever seen. It's a painting of the Last Supper, but Star Wars style! Thanks, Recon, for finding this lil' gem.

Terry And Dean Are Awesome!!!

2005-05-26T15:18:00.000-04:00

(that's actually their buddy, Keith)

If there's one thing I know, it's that Terry and Dean Kick ASS!!! And they have their very own website. It has poetry. The poetry is pure transcendence. Read it, weep and then eat some food. Or you could cry while eating. That's always funny too. Espeically when other people are doing it.

Seriously, though, I really want to see this movie Fubar now. If it's anything like American Movie, Trekkies or Gummo, then it has to be absolutely balls-to-the-wall awesome.

Moral of the story: go see Gummo. Go see Trekkies. Go see American Movie. Finally, go see Fubar. Tell me how awesome Fubar is. If you're not dead from coolness overload, that is.

Insane Musicians

2005-05-25T10:57:00.000-04:00

Taking a cue from my buddies over at Toner Mishap (see Blogs We Likey), I've decided to post a link to a wonderful interview with one of music's most gifted psychopaths, Lee "Scratch" Perry. This guy is a freakin' wingnut, but he's managed to produce some of the most legendary music we know and love (including producing for Marley, Peter Tosh, The Clash, Linda McCartney(!) and providing vocals for the Beastie Boys). He burned down his studio because he thought it was possessed. Awesome. One of my favorite parts of the interview is this delightful little exchange:

D: What kept you from touring in North America for so long?

LSP: Well, the polar bear want me here, and the polar bear telepathic I because I believe in telepathic. SOS, ESP, because the polar bear said you need some warmth and a change of weather. Some of my fans are crying out for a change of weather. I don't know if I can do anything, but I'm here to change the weather.

Excuse me sir, a polar bear? Who ARE you? WHAT are you? Music needs more fruitcakes like this guy, if you ask me. Fuck the Spice Girls. Lee Perry is where da Scratch at, mon.

Please go read this interview. It will make you feel a little crazier, but in a good way. Not in a "I feel like God just punched me in the balls" way, as my last post did. Sorry, Recon. Didn't mean to administer a holy groin punch. My bad, yo.

They're Baaaaaaa-aaaack

2005-05-24T15:01:00.000-04:00

I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want: I wanna, I wanna, I wanna fucking KILL the spice girls, that's what! Well, the ones who don't get naked. Seriously, though, they're getting back together. And releasing a "best of" album. I thought BRITNEY releasing a "best of" album was bad enough. How many albums did these half-baked twits come out with anyway?

Girl Powah my American arse.

The Flying Spaghetti Monster

2005-05-23T11:10:00.000-04:00

Religious kooks make me want to facepunch. Intelligent Design makes me want to facepunch. Hardcore Darwinists make me want to facepunch. In fact, anyone so convinced of their own correctness that their ears are closed to everything but the voices in their heads make me want to facepunch. Yes, sometimes I want to punch my own face with great gusto. Given enough tequila, sometimes I DO administer a hearty self-facepunch. OK, on to the religious/secular hardline hilarity.

I've got my buddies Hector and Erik to thank for informing me of the Flying Spaghetti Monster. I sure hope they start teaching this stuff in school. Otherwise, how will the children of tomorrow know where midgets come from? (see illustration at bottom of open letter to Kansas)

On a more serious note, this whole Intelligent Design vs. Evolution debate is just appalling. Many things alarm me about the state of our nation, and this is just another in a long line of jaw-dropping lapses in responsibility to our descendants. I'm all for expanding minds and fostering a healthy sense of curiosity in our youth, but to present an unproven, untestable, unscientific, faith-based explanation of the universe's genesis in the same breath as the theory of evolution is outright silly to me. I was taught many things in high-school with which I did not agree, and still do not agree. I took NOTHING that I was taught for granted, and explored most of it to death. If any of my teachers ever presented the Flying Spaghetti theory to me with as straight a face as they had on while explaining "natural selection", then I'd probably discount just about everything they ever taught me.

Given, I was pretty much summarily dismissed from CCD for asking probing questions, but in any rational and intelligent organization, asking questions is promoted. Then again, most rational and intelligent organizations aren't quite as blatant and unapologetic with their attempts at indoctrination as the Catholic Church is... my mega-Liberal college education, for example, allowed me to think in a dissenting fashion, as long as I did so intelligently and along the proper lines of argument that I was taught. Such blasphemy in the face of Ye Olde Pontiff and his legion of toadies (Jesuits notwithstanding... though I only grudgingly give them the benefit of the doubt because they boast Pierre Teilhard de Chardin among their ranks, and I respect him an enormous amount) will garner you nothing but a ruler to the wrist and a pointy paper dunce cap.

Update: It seems there's an overwhelming number of articles and the like circulating on the Interweb these days bemoaning one side of the Evolution vs. Intelligent Design debate or the other. I've seen lots of 'em, and they all sound the same to me. A big, fat load of whining. THIS ARTICLE, by contrast, is pure genius. It prettymuch hits the nail on the head, as I see it. AND it gets kids interested in learning! And THAT'S the point of all this school garbage in the first place, ain't it?

Bill Moyers is my Hero

2005-05-18T10:25:00.000-04:00

To offsset the unrepentant vitriol I've spit in the pockmarked face of that tramp Britney, I'll post a link to a speech recently given by a great man and a great thinker. Bill Moyers gave this speech at the National Conference for Media Reform just three days ago, and -- as I've come to expect from the likes of him -- it is pure genius. Please take the time to read it, if you can.

Update: I figured that maybe rather than asking my readers to take in the entirety of Moyers's speech, I'd just post a snippet, the heart of the message, in my opinion. It's a statement he read on an episode of his now-defunct show, "NOW With Bill Moyers" that illustrated why he decided to sport a little American Flag pin on his lapel, after he'd already come across as being anti-empty-patriotism, anti-little-lapel-pin and mostly anti-predatory-patriotism time and time again. I think that he and I share very closely our skepticism of all the yahoos with their little yellow car magnets commanding that we "Support Our Troops" or that inform us that they do, in fact, Stand United. Here is his explanation of why he chose to take up the "patriotic pin":

“I wore my flag tonight. First time. Until now I haven’t thought it necessary to display a little metallic icon of patriotism for everyone to see. It was enough to vote, pay my taxes, perform my civic duties, speak my mind, and do my best to raise our kids to be good Americans.

“Sometimes I would offer a small prayer of gratitude that I had been born in a country whose institutions sustained me, whose armed forces protected me, and whose ideals inspired me; I offered my heart’s affections in return. It no more occurred to me to flaunt the flag on my chest than it did to pin my mother’s picture on my lapel to prove her son’s love. Mother knew where I stood; so does my country. I even tuck a valentine in my tax returns on April 15.

“So what’s this doing here? Well, I put it on to take it back. The flag’s been hijacked and turned into a logo — the trademark of a monopoly on patriotism. On those Sunday morning talk shows, official chests appear adorned with the flag as if it is the good housekeeping seal of approval. During the State of the Union, did you notice Bush and Cheney wearing the flag? How come? No administration’s patriotism is ever in doubt, only its policies. And the flag bestows no immunity from error. When I see flags sprouting on official lapels, I think of the time in China when I saw Mao’s little red book on every official’s desk, omnipresent and unread.

“But more galling than anything are all those moralistic ideologues in Washington sporting the flag in their lapels while writing books and running Web sites and publishing magazines attacking dissenters as un-American. They are people whose ardor for war grows disproportionately to their distance from the fighting. They’re in the same league as those swarms of corporate lobbyists wearing flags and prowling Capitol Hill for tax breaks even as they call for more spending on war.

“So I put this on as a modest riposte to men with flags in their lapels who shoot missiles from the safety of Washington think tanks, or argue that sacrifice is good as long as they don’t have to make it, or approve of bribing governments to join the coalition of the willing (after they first stash the cash). I put it on to remind myself that not every patriot thinks we should do to the people of Baghdad what Bin Laden did to us. The flag belongs to the country, not to the government. And it reminds me that it’s not un-American to think that war — except in self-defense — is a failure of moral imagination, political nerve, and diplomacy. Come to think of it, standing up to your government can mean standing up for your country.”

Well said, Billy boy. Well said. On short little note... notice his pride in paying taxes. That's amazing. And oddly beautiful. The Conservatives have managed to popularly frame taxes in terms of "burden" rather than support for the government that gives shape to the country we ostensibly love so much. I think I would like to side with another hero of mine, George Lakoff, in asking that we try to reframe taxes in terms of "investment" rather than "burden". Our country deserves to be invested in. Corruption and graft notwithstanding, I am proud to help support the country that shelters and feeds me.