Elitist Indifference

EI Shall Return!

2007-05-15T09:32:00.000-07:00

Yes, EI will be back soon, and better than ever.

The Most Important Lie You'll Ever Tell (Part 1)

2006-10-06T21:32:00.000-07:00

It's fall, and for seniors in high school that means it's time for the limitless bliss that is the college application, and more specifically, the college essay. Being the charitable person that I am, I have decided to write some example essays to help those of you struggling with your 500-words-or-less exercises in shameless self-aggrandizing. Below is an essay for the venerable Common Application:

Evaluate a significant experience, achievement, risk, you have taken, or ethical dilemma you have faced and its impact on you.

Thump. Thump. Thump. My heart thundered as I stalked down the silent hallway, wincing at the loudness of my footsteps. Sweat dripped down my nose and I could hear every labored breath I took. The hostile darkness seemed to envelop and consume me, and pretty soon I could see nothing at all. But something kept me going.

I was afraid. I was alone. I realized that this was the first time in my life I was truly terrified. I knew that were it not for my excellent leadership skills I would have been too afraid to continue. On and on I went, each second seeming like a year. Suddenly the darkness ahead of me seemed ot surge forward and I flinched, dropping to my knees and crying out weakly in horror. I quickly realized that it was not some maleviolent apparition but rather the door at the end of the hallway.

I stepped through the door and was immediately assaulted by a torrent of violent snowfall. I trudged out into the blizzard, thankful that I was a well-rounded and well-balanced person with skills in many different subjects, one of which was resistence to windchill. Well, I thought to myself, I guess I'll just have to walk home. And so I did, shivering and stumbling, but strong enough to continue because of determination to pursue my goals in life despite adversity.

As I passed the alleyway in front of my house I noticed a homeless man lying facedown in the snow, apparently unconscious. Despite being myself frozen to the bone and weary beyond belief, I knew what I had to do. I ran to the man and dragged him out of the snow into the relative safety of a nearby overhang. I propped him up against the wall and was immensely relieved that he appeared to still be breathing, although he was showing signs of frostbite from the snow. As I was unbuttoning my coat, he stirred and seemed to be regaining consciousness. I quickly picked up a nearby brick and hit him hard on the side of the head, twice, before finishing stuffing my coat with all of his belongings. Satisfied with what I had done, I continued into my house.

Immediately after I entered the front door, I knew something was wrong. As I stood there and surveyed the room, a small child suddenly lept from behind a curtain and dashed for the back door. I opened fire with my rocket-propelled grenade launcher, stopping the intruder in a spectacular spray of blood and body parts. I closed the door, took off my clothes, flopped onto my bed, and immediately fell asleep.

P.S.: Attached to the back of this sheet you will find a note bearing my favorite U.S. president ever: Benjamin Franklin.

Never Smell of Forgiveness

2006-07-17T10:53:00.000-07:00

Kevin and Tyler have a brief but life-changing dialogue about a small but life-changing product...

Kevin: Hello Tyler. Besides your odd choice in pants today, something else is unusual about you. I have a sudden and irrational urge to never forgive you for being alive.

Tyler: I'm glad you like my new cologne. With this new scent, my success rate with women has risen 200%. It's from P'diddy's men's line - that's right, rappers sell cologne now. It has a perfect, unimpeachable name, fitting right in with the new image of...

Kevin: UNFORGIVABLE™! Tyler, you smell utterly UNFORGIVEABLE™ today. But not only that. You smell of a new lifestyle, a new you.

Attractive Female Bystander: Tyler, may I bear your children?

Tyler: Perhaps. I should check my schedule. I might be able to book you in...

P. Diddy: UNFORGIVABLE™ cologne by Sean John is a visceral fragrance that blends chemistry and emotion. It stimulates the senses in ways never imagined and is a rare blend of pure, uncontained, and unrestrained emotion... The UNFORGIVABLE™ man is distinctive with a driving passion. (It really says that)

Tyler: Can you not smell the pure emotion in my cologne?

Kevin: Indeed, both of you smell of such complete, utter, and UNFORGIVABLE™ emotional saturation that I can hardly stifle my admiration for your distinctive, driving passion for living life to the fullest.

Tyler: Yes, well, it's all in the bottle - yours for only $74.99! You too can live life UNFORGIVABLY™.

Kevin: Clearly, being such a fan of Pe Diddee, I can hardly restrain myself from dashing to the nearest Wal-Mart and purchasing this product immediately. But I don't know if I'm ready to be UNFORGIVABLE™ yet. I don't know if I'm ready to leave behind my boring life and become what I've always wanted to be.

Tyler: Kevin, what you talkin' 'bout? Don't you want to be more like p. Dyddy? Why in Jersy would you delay such overwhelming passion?

Kevin: Perhaps because UNFORGIVABLE™ is composed of not one, not two, but three distinct elements: Cool, Fresh, and Sexy.

pDiddi: This could be you:

Tyler: See, you too could get hott sideways makeouts at the New York Stock Exchange! With tongue!

Kevin: Clearly a product that all sane men must have. Thanks Pî Diddy! I think it's time that I, too, began smelling UNFORGIVABLE™.

Aviator sunglasses sold separately.

Dear Canada,

2006-07-12T16:58:00.000-07:00

I write to you because in recent years the sheer audacity of your contempt for my way of life has become utterly intolerable. No longer shall I stand idly while you ruthlessly impinge upon all that I love and cherish. Truth, love, democracy, and freedom itself are at stake. Through base deceit you have made many a nation turn a blind eye to your treachery, but I am not so easily hoodwinked.

I know that you are now the second largest nation in the world. I know that you have been supporting your whale population—but are you protecting them for posterity, or training them to attack warships? I know of only one use for your English and French bilingualism—to subvert the communications of your enemies. I know that over 90% of your population is concentrated within two hundred kilometers of your southern border—just waiting for the right moment to strike. I know.

But I am undaunted by the terrible oppression wrought by your mounted police, undaunted by the crushing stickiness of your syrup, undaunted by the overwhelming numbers of your geese, undaunted by the subversive omnipresence of your bacon. No matter how tall your totem poles or excellent your welfare, I shall be steadfast in my stand against your boundless aggression. Just as I turned away the Kaiser's iron fist nearly a century ago, so shall I turn away the iron fist hidden within the maple leaf. I am prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice in the defense of my homeland against the Canadian scourge.

As of now, I hereby disavow recognition of your sovereignty as a nation. All diplomatic ties are dissolved immediately. If you should wish to regain your former standing with me, then you are to cease and desist your vile villainy. If and when you have done so utterly, completely, absolutely, exhaustively, unconditionally, and utterly—and only when you have done so utterly, completely, absolutely, exhaustively, unconditionally, and utterly—you shall stand as a lone bastion of evil. Not even an axis of evil would stoop to accept so deplorable an ally. You stand alone against me and a fair and just world.

Regards,

Kevin

People are Idiots, Part 1

2006-06-12T22:34:00.000-07:00

Yes, have you noticed? People are idiots. In commemoration of this marvelous fact of life, I will henceforth bring you a weekly rant about all things idiotic. And by weekly, I of course mean an arbitrary length of time between late and later. But without further ado, in the crosshairs today is the proverbial u-bend under the sink of the internet: MySpace.

One thing that really amuses me about MySpace is the poetry. Seriously, what angsty teen goes home every day and composes poetry about tears and knives and falling leaves? Well, quite a few, apparently. Somewhere out in the ether between the complete inability to actually write a rhyming poem and the utter inanity of the topic must lie the unfortunate brain cells I lost in my endeavor to understand what exactly the point of all of this is.

Here we used to lie
Under the sky
Now I can only cry
And softly sigh
Blood and ash
In my heart a gash

You know how they torture prisoners at Guantanamo Bay? Here's a secret the government doesn't want you to know: all they do is read this poetry to them.

Another thing about MySpace that never ceases to amuse me is the proliferation of chain letters. All of them seem to involve friends or sex. Or in some cases having sex with friends. Some are funny, but most are just dumb. Take this relatively innocuous one below, for example:

THIS IS A TEST TO SEE HOW MANY FRIENDS
YOU HAVE ON THE INTERNET!!!
IT'S JUST A TEST. OK, HERE GOES.
INSTANTLY, WHEN YOU RECEIVE THIS PAGE,
YOU MUST SEND IT TO AT LEAST 10 PEOPLE,
INCLUDING THE PERSON WHO SENT IT TO YOU

*Hug* *Hug* *Hug* *Hug* *Hug* *Hug*
*Hug* *Hug* *Hug* *Hug* *Hug* *Hug*
*Hug* *Hug* *Hug* *Hug* *Hug* *Hug*
*Hug* *Hug* *Hug* *Hug* *Hug* *Hug*
*Hug* *Hug* *Hug* *Hug* *Hug* *Hug*
*Hug* *Hug* *Hug* *Hug* *Hug* *Hug*
*Hug* *Hug* *Hug* *Hug* *Hug* *Hug*
*Hug* *Hug* *Hug* *Hug* *Hug* *Hug*
*Hug* *Hug* *Hug* *Hug* *Hug* *Hug*
*Hug* *Hug* *Hug* *Hug* *Hug* *Hug*

There are times when no comment is necessary on my part. This is one of them.

But despite all this, MySpace can occasionally—very occasionally—reveal some rather useful information. Let me give you a hypothetical situation. Let’s say you're a girl, and you have a boyfriend. One day, you discover that your boyfriend has a MySpace. You also discover that the background to his MySpace page is a Jack Daniel’s Whiskey label. Posted on the page is a large and prominent Confederate flag, as well as the results of an online IQ test in which your boyfriend scored a whopping 85. (You may want to inform him that the IQ test, unfortunately, is NOT a score out of 100.) You also note a large cartoon featuring a caricature of a penis as the main character, and further down, several racial slurs. (By the way, you aren’t white.) You following this so far? Good. Now let's turn this hypothetical situation into a guessing game. Your next course of action is to:

A. Dump him.
B. Not dump him.

You've got a 50/50 chance of getting it right, but if you really want to, you can use the information above to help you decide. Now wasn't that fun? I only wish MySpace could be this useful all the time. I also wish that what I described above really was no more than a just hypothetical situation, but alas! People are idiots.

The FOX Effect

2006-05-31T22:54:00.000-07:00

So you're a television news network executive. You're facing stiff competition from FOX News and other networks resorting to mindless sensationalism to attract more viewers. Your reporters just aren't cutting it, despite your recent special reports featuring a graphic decapitation, two helicopters being shot down by the same missile, and a snake eating an alligator. Even your new reporter, a former prosecutor who never blinks and is in an eternal state of controlled outrage and whose advertising slogan is "I'm Nancy Grace... AND I'M LOCKED AND LOADED!" just isn't pulling it off.

Fine. Your solution, then, is to hire a formerly drug-addicted, disc-jockeying Mormon, make him get a haircut, and put him on the air as the "new and refreshing" voice in your network. Instruct him to laugh at all of his own jokes and confine his interviews exclusively to sexy blonde women under the age of thirty and angry bald men working for political organizations. The more inane each exchange, the better. You want interviews - say, one about illegal immigration - to sound like this one:

BECK: Since you're authorized to speak for all Mexicans, let me ask you this.
ARELLANO: Sure.
BECK: The Virgin of Guadalupe.
ARELLANO: Yes.
BECK: What's the need to display her on everything from T-shirts to bumper stickers? I mean, she's not Dora the Explorer.
ARELLANO: No, she's our beloved mother. You know, the empress of the Americas. And, you know, Mexican Catholicism is different from, I guess, American Catholicism in that we treat the sacred and the profane the same way. So we could have the Virgin of Guadalupe in our churches, but we'll also have her on hub cups. And I've even seen her in guacamole, too.
BECK: Chipotle sauce.
ARELLANO: Chipotle sauce.

Now that, my friend, is quality television. Don't forget to quietly phase out your network's old motto: "the most trusted name in news."

But really now, can you believe they cancelled shows like CNN Crossfire for this nonsense? For those of you unfamiliar with Crossfire, it was the greatest show ever. The entire show consisted of two Democrats and two Republicans, who would sit across a table from each other. The room was painted blue on the Democrat side and red on the Republican side, and in the background it had a large picture of a donkey and elephant squaring off. Following some pretty lights and 3-D animated introductions, a bell would sound and the show would start. The two sides would then proceed to point and call each other names until the bell sounded again. An enthusiastic live studio audience of college students would cheer them on. Television at its finest.

Why, CNN? Why?

Religion for Dummies

2006-05-26T22:41:00.000-07:00

Well hello again, and welcome back to the rest of your life. It's been a while since my last post, so let's get this ball rolling again, shall we?

So I found an incredible book at a rummage sale. Seriously, incredible. It's titled You Can Live Forever in Paradise on Earth and is brought to us by everyone's favorite religious group, the Jehovah's Witnesses. This book is fantastic! It answers all of life's great questions with cookbook-style simplicity and pretty pictures that resemble something out of a drugged San Francisco hobo's canvas. With chapter titles such as "Wicked Spirits are Powerful" and "The End of the World is at Hand!" and "What You Must Do to Live Forever," this book is a real gem. (click to enlarge pictures, or you'll burn in eternal burningnage)

On evolution versus creation:

"When you are in your house, ask yourself: Did my desk, lamp, bed, chair, table, walls, or even the house itself, evolve? Of did they need a maker? Of course intelligent persons had to make them!"

On women:

"As the Bible says, the woman was made as a helper to her husband... when wives push ahead, trying to take over headship, their action is almost sure to cause trouble... By fulfilling her Bible-assigned role as 'helper and complement' to her husband, she makes it easy for her husband to love her."

On books:

Burn them.

On heaven:

Apparently, Heaven involves picking lots of apples. And conspicuously multi-ethnic people picking said apples. Notice the boy hugging the lion. Yep, that's right, kids. Join our church and you'll get a PET LION!

Heaven also has a bearded guy with a golden crown sitting on a really pimpin' shiny throne that is visible in the sky at night. Maybe he makes appearances at discos.

People in Heaven have really awesome hair.

My favorite part of this book is about the return of Christ. The writers of this book made careful calculations from the Bible and came to the indisputable conclusion that - get this - Christ returned to earth on October 1, 1914. That's right, 1914. And not only that, but he also founded a new country that year and is currently ruling it as a monarch. Unfortunately, the book does not specify exactly which country this is, although it does note that it is intentionally hard to find. Maybe it's some small middle eastern autocracy? Or a tiny island nation in the Pacific? Funny choices for our King of Kings, but I'm not going to be the one caught doubting the word of God when the victorious armies of Kuwait claim the world for His heavenly kingdom. No sir.

This book was totally worth the dollar I paid for it. I highly recommend it to anyone.

Psst: We Don't Really Care.

2006-05-18T19:42:00.000-07:00

So, you may have noticed we haven't really been updating the site.

Well, we hate to break it to you, but you know, we just don't care about you. It's not to say we didn't get along. You loved us. We educated you. Really, a prosperous relationship all around. But you know, this whole thing hasn't really been working out for us. Because we just don't care about you.

It's nothing personal. Really. It isn't. But we'd like to live our lives, too. This doesn't mean all those whispered promises and songs will come to naught. It simply means that there will be some changes around here.

I hope we can still do our old thing some time. You know, we post, you comment. For old times sake. Maybe we can even be condescending to you again. That's always fun.

Anyway, things will work out the way they work out. Only we know the future, and we're not telling you or ourselves. In the meantime, we're not really sorry for all the pain and sorrow we may have caused you. But we'll acknowledge it's there. Just for you.

This isn't goodbye. We just don't have time for you right now. If we come back crawling out of boredom or abandonment, try and forget this for us, ok?

Thanks. I'm glad we had this talk.

Democracy and Health Insurance Join Forces!

2006-03-22T16:07:00.000-08:00

The sample special election ballots for the Congress seat formly held by our illustrious Randy "Duke" Cunningham arrived in my mailbox today. For those of you unfamiliar with San Diego politics, Mr. Cunningham was our glorious, honorable congressman who, being understandably human, unfortunately accepted a few bribes. Just a few. Around $2,400,000 to be exact, but that's beside the point.

Anyway, the race to replace him is concluding with this ballot. It looks ordinary enough on the outside, with the standard set of basic directions and conspicuously patriotic color scheme.

When I opened the ballot, however, I was surprised to discover that most of the ballot was occupied not by the ballot, but rather by advertisements and dieting advice. That's right - there are advertisements in the ballot. Your tax dollars are at work here, clearly.

(Click to enlarge - yes, these are actually in the ballot. I have trouble believing it too.) God bless America.

The Many Lives of Elevators

2006-03-04T12:15:00.000-08:00

Whoa. Remember ME?
Yeah, so elevators. If you've ever seen an action movie, you know what I mean. In said class of movies, there is always, always, an extremely tense scene where a group of characters is riding up in an elevator. Often the group is evil and thus the scene is of impending doom, but then the characters could also be good and the scene could simply be really really cool, suggesting an impending beat-down.

(Click to expand and view this modern day
Tower of Babel.)
So, this got me thinking, did movies even have tension before elevators? And in what other ways did elevators permanently change our lives? I made a list. Elevators:

Allow for the existence of elevator music, and subsequent bad puns relating to this.
Provide band after lame band with easy photo shoots.
Give an excuse to put a ridiculous amount of buttons in one place.
Give us an excuse to push every single one of said buttons at once.
Tempt us to push the very large and very red emergency button.
Increase our freedom by giving us the option to not walk anywhere.

And, finally,

Are but one of many representations of the eternal folly of mankind.

So every time you ride in an elevator, remember: religious allegory!

Travel Guide: Washington, Part Two

2006-03-02T18:27:00.000-08:00

Alas, it was sad to depart from the lovely little town of patrol helicopters and roadblocks, but all good things must come to an end. After an uneventful flight home, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that the contents of my baggage had been ransacked by unknown hands. It was okay though, because clearly whoever had furiously marauded through my belongings and left the fragile gift items damaged beyond repair had done so only with the best of intentions. Tucked away in a corner I discovered this (top left; click to enlarge unless you hate democracy) heartfelt apology for the melee that had transpired in my suitcase.

The "screening" of my bag most certainly must have gotten "physical." I am very sorry that the screeners were "forced" to break my items in order to fight terrorism. Damn you, terrorists! Forcing airport security to break my stuff! You will never break the resolve of our great nation!

I noticed that the note left in my bag was rather large and had been printed on thick cardstock. This must have cost our glorious, illustrious government extra money to print. Being the concerned citizen that I am, I propose that they shorten the message on the note to save their money for more important things, like munitions and tax cuts. Here is my simplified version of the note (bottom left). God bless America.

Travel Guide: Washington, Center of the Universe

2006-02-28T18:10:00.000-08:00

The first thing to know about Washington is that, unlike southern California, it actually has weather. Yeah, the stuff you see on TV and read about in books. Like rain, which is the common name for the phenomenon when water falls from the sky! I know, it sounds really scary. Even more bizarre is this strange white substance that coats the ground during the night. The locals call this material "snow" and it supposedly falls from the sky as well. Surreal, I know. This just comes to reinforce the fact that everything east of California, with the exception of Las Vegas, is actually just a giant hologram illusion run by the government to make us believe that the world is not flat.

Here are three items that are very common in Washington.

I can tell you from experience: if you see a large steel barricade (quite abundant, too) like this one with lots of not-so-happy-looking policemen standing by it, don't go near it, especially if your skin color does not match theirs.

Don't eat lunch in the Supreme Court Food Court (who came up with that name?). It sucks. Now I understand why O'Connor retired early. And after getting sick from the Supreme Court food, certainly don't get lost in the Senate building and stumble upon John Kerry's office. Unless you want to sneak a photo of it and the snobby male secretaries.

After finally getting out of that god-forsaken Senate building, should you see something that resembles this thing, do NOT be carrying anything that resembles food. They are tiny robots programmed by the government to attack and kill without remorse. If they do happen to see you, scream and run like hell.

More later.

These Guyz Are So Cool, They Replace S's With Z's

2006-02-25T22:31:00.000-08:00

So I was listening to an acquaintance of mine recount how last night he won the "Whitest Dancer" award at some manner of a modern dance contest. He introduced me to this.

Watermelon, Chicken, and Gritz. With a Z, because Z's are clearly superior to S's. It is a rap album from a group based in - get this - Kentucky. Yes, Kentucky. Now don't get me wrong: I despise rap and couldn't care less, but I still think it's (or should I say, it'z?) quite amusing.

I didn't hear much of it, but I'm sure it'z going to get far with such classicz as Aw Naw, Ho Down, and my personal favorite, Ballin' on a Budget. It'z got phat pimpin' beatz, souf style.

Check out these here lyricz:

My yegga, we hogwild, bet that from that roota to that toota-file
Hell naw, them country boys ain't headed south for six miles
Kentucky mud, them kinfolk, twankies with them hundred-spokes
And aw-aw-aw-aw!

Oh snap. Now, I'll concede that that "regular" rap isn't any less inane, but this has endless novelty value. This is like Britney Spears singing opera, or Mr. T working as a marriage counselor. Maybe they compete with the 13-year-old white supremacist girls.

I'm going to sleep now. Wake me when Chuck Norris stars in a romantic comedy.

Mighty King Corn

2006-02-22T02:00:00.000-08:00

This week on Ask Kevin, Karen asks:

Would you please give your honest opinion about solutions to the food shortage in the rest of the world?

A most worthwhile question to ask. At first I was tempted to answer Soylent Green, but that's a trite and unoriginal plan advocated by those competing with me for world domination. Then Eric suddenly hijacked this post, so here is his solution to the problem:

I feel that the only way to put an end to food shortages once and for all is to get scientists to spend obscene amounts of money meant for something useful to instead make some manner of LAZOR BEAMZ that make food (but not other stuff) smaller. Can you imagine the implications of miniature food? It would be just like normal food, but less! We already have miniature corn, so it's only a matter of time before other foods follow the path of their glorious leader. Of course such a trampling over the laws of nature would inevitably cause the food to become sentient and take over the world and eat people instead of the other way around. Then there would be more than enough to eat for all! Problem solved. You may now wire the money to my Swiss bank account.

-Eric

Damn you, usurper! I always knew Eric was really a communist infiltrator. Post more questions in the comments section while I call Senator McCarthy.

Behold the Power of "i"

2006-02-20T19:38:00.000-08:00

I apologize (not really) for the lack of updates. I have finally returned from my weeklong trip to Washington, DC, so your life will resume shortly. I might tell you about my trip later, but I might not. Can you feel the suspense? Anyway...

Recently I've been noticing a growing number of products whose names begin with a lower-case "i." I can't say that I'm surprised that companies are jumping on the iConform bandwagon, seeing the obscene profits that Apple makes from iConform sales. One thing that I do wonder is how exactly Apple came up with the name "iPod" (this is the only time you'll see me refer to it by its real name). I mean, the "i" of course is not Apple's creation, but pod? When somebody says pod, I think beans. Or whales. Anyway, let's take a quick look at a few "i" products:

iShirt. Having the resplendent white earphones conspiciously screaming "I CONFORM!" just doesn't show off my coolness enough. I need it plastered across my chest in letters so absurdly huge that they're visible from outer space, just so everyone knows that I'm part of the hip new "i" generation.

Remember, kids: The iPod Shuffle is NOT INCLUDED with this product.
And: People who use pacemakers should never wear this shirt.

iBoxer. Yep, a pair of boxers. This product epitomizes the "i" market.
Available in solid fashion colors and the solid waistband features a racing stripe and the Play logos.
Oh snap. It's got racing stripes! The stripes probably make me run faster. It even has "3/8 inch side vents" to improve performance, or something. Maybe if I wear them I'll feel like I'm driving a racecar, except as the contents of my pants instead of a vehicle. And nobody will mess with the "solid fashion colors." The chicks will dig it.

Sarcasm aside, keep that thing away from my genitals!

And speaking of genitals... iBuzz.
iBuzz is the musical orgasm machine! The music-activated vibrating bullet stimulates you in time with your favourite music. Which song pushes your butttons?
You know what? No comment.

$30 for a single shirt. $22 for a single pair of boxers. $60 for a... toy. God bless America.

Olympics Shmolympics

2006-02-10T21:10:00.000-08:00

So I was watching the Olympic opening ceremomies! and thinking during the commercial breaks. You know what I was thinking about? The Parade of Nations is really long.

I'm sure that the opening ceremony would be, like, two hours shorter if only there was one or two nations. Would that not be, like, infinitely better? In fact, just one nation. Us.

Sure, they say that politics and sport are seperate, but really, the only way to truly remove politics from sport is if everyone thinks exactly the same way! Right? Right. (No one need comment on this matter, you know I'm right. (Totally.))

Everything else would be improved as well! Cultural differences would surely be eliminated under benevolent democracy (read: governments friendly to us) for the masses. One need only look at Iraq for an instance where a supreme culture, through military force, so entrenches itself that there is virtually no resistance to the occupiers!

So let's just stop kidding ourselves with the politically correct nonsense and finally admit that the American culture is the greatest thing ever.

P.S. Remember the Maine!

The Stateliest State of the Most Unified Union Ever

2006-02-09T16:44:00.000-08:00

Thank you all. Cheerleaders, blind conformists, worshippers, applause-o-bots, distinguished old people wearing uniforms: I am humbled by your shameless groveling. There. Start applauding again. Wallow in the resplendor of my humility! Clap some more. Very good.

This year I will make things better, not worse.

Our nation faces a grave peril from within its very own borders. Cells of terrorist activity, once thought to have disappeared, have been growing in number. These terrorists are commonly known as "trees." As you know, forest fires are caused by trees. Last year, millions of acres of trees burned themselves in suicide attacks on our towns and industries. But these cowardly individuals cannot break the resolve of our great nation. Brave young lumberjacks have stepped forward to defend the liberties of the American people, and I commend each and every one of them for their heroic sacrifices.

In order to combat the very real threat of tree terror, the government must not be held back by legal obligation. I must be allowed to bypass warrants when ~~eavesdropping~~ electronically monitoring environmentalist groups who have had a history of supporting trees. Remember that the trees are only a breath away from killing us all with their razor sharp acorns, and I alone stand between them and you. In order to protect you I need not only to be above search warrants, but I must also be given the authority of line item vetoes, absolute executive power, and the Hammer of Thor. Only then can I truly ensure the safety of the American public.

It is important that Americans agree with me on my foreign policy. If you disagree with me, not only are you unpatriotic, but you are a poo-poo head. That's right, a poo-poo head. We must strive to put aside our differences and work together, both Republicans and Poopooheadcrats alike, to achieve common goals. I decide what those common goals are.

We must be steadfast in Eerok. There's a lot of sand there, but for the sake of the Eerokee people we must sow the seeds of some ideological metaphor about democracy that my speechwriter can't seriously believe that anyone would ever expect me to say in person. Poo-poo heads accuse me of not having a plan for Eerok. Well, here it is: I am preparing to launch Operation Peace and Freedom Forever and Ever for Eternity not just in Eerok but in every sandy place on the planet, including Asia, even though it's not particularly sandy, and I will steadfastly see that it steadfastly does not ever waver in a manner that would not reflect steadfastness. It will instantaneously solve every problem that ever existed in the region, and leave its people with an infinite and undying love for America.

Meanwhile at home, America is addicted to sand. Most of our sand comes from places in the world inhabited by filthy heathens who hate us, even though we have treated them with nothing but boundless love and compassion. We must develop viable alternatives to reduce our dependency on foreign sand. For example, we could ~~invade~~ liberate Canada and take their sand. Or we could use mud instead, which is actually better than sand, but my lobbyists won't allow that so you'll have to wait till my third term.

Oh, and healthcare is important. Studies show that healthcare cares for health, and health keeps people alive. Being alive is the opposite of being dead, and polls show that most Americans don't want to be dead. Therefore, I propose that healthcare be made better. It can be made better by improving its qualities. Those qualities in turn can be enhanced by improvement. All in all, my plan is foolproof no matter what the poo-poo heads say about it.

The reason this country kicks so much butt is because its people has courage. And superior firepower, but mostly courage. I know America kicks butt because God Himself told me. So keep kicking butt, and don't be a poo-poo head. May God bless America.

Commodities

2006-02-08T15:05:00.000-08:00

(click to enlarge, unless you hate America)

So I was relaxing and enjoying my daily bowl of assorted stuff when I happened to notice this little note placed upon the side of my cereal box. How exciting! Not only does my meal have great nutritional significance, but artistic and even cultural significance!

Consider the implications. Should I feel "Gaming"-ish today, all I need to do is pick up that particular box of Pops™ cereal to affirm my cultural aspirations. "See, my fellow 'gaming'-ers? I too enjoy spelling words with variable height assigned to letters for no particular reason whatsoever! I'm so accepted."

I am sooo excited to express my new bold individual style and attitude, that I wanna go out right now and buy a box of Pops™ cereal, along with all associated paraphanelia.

DVD's: Weapons of Mass Destruction?

2006-02-07T15:24:00.000-08:00

It appears that Blogger exploded and deleted this post, so here it is again. This week on Ask Kevin commenter blue>white asks:

What's the difference between a DVD that is silver on the bottom and one that is blue?

That's an excellent question, blue>white, but you won't like the answer. Contrary to popular opinion, DVD stands not for Digital Video Disc, but rather for Death and Violence Desensitizer. You see, DVD's are actually instruments of a grand Soviet conspiracy that contain powerful subliminal messages. Every time you watch a DVD, every time you touch a DVD, every time you even think about a DVD, you’re being brainwashed by the Soviets. The subliminal messages contained in these instruments of destruction are intended to destroy the fabric of American society and prepare us for the coming Soviet invasion.

Back to question at hand. DVD’s can be broken down into three basic categories: ones commanding you to sleep, ones commanding you to kill sleeping people, and ones commanding you to blame killings on the media and government. Respectively, these each have silver, gold, and blue bottoms. You’ll note that DVD’s with silver and blue bottoms are much more common than the murder-inducing gold ones, and that is intentional. They don’t want us all to murder each other. Yet.

If you’ve ever watched a movie and felt a sudden and irrational love for Mother Russia coupled with a deep hunger for cabbage and vodka, then you know what I’m talking about. You haven't? Well it’s a conspiracy, and if you don’t agree with me then you must be part of it! God bless America.

Send in more questions in the comment section!

Doom and Gloomday Reborn: Doom and Gloomday's Revenge 2: The Sequel

2006-02-06T00:37:00.000-08:00

It recently dawned on me while answering a question regarding Tyler's bit of ego stroking below, that my friends are lazy, forgetful, so-and-sos. After recalling that I had had this revelation a few weeks back, I decided to revive everyone's favourite day that Kevin had so thoughtfully left in the dust about a month or so ago! Yep, it's Doom and Gloom Monday!

In keeping with the tradition of reporting causes of cancer, I thought I'd try something slightly different from the tradition, but not enough so that I couldn't make people think it was a part of it anyway. This fine D&Gday, I'm happy to report that, not content with simply inducing seizures anymore, Pokemon now cause cancer. Above, I have a picture of an enlarged cell of this new threat to mankind. Notice the distinct Pokemon-shaped markings. In addition, there are various diagrams depicted, including a Pokemon parasite and a small, winged, disease-spreading poke-insect. Beware...be very ware....

No, you didn't hear me quite right. Apparently there exists a cancer-inducing gene named the POK erythroid myeloid ontogenic gene, that, until a plethora of headlines, and Nintendo's lawsuit, was called the POKEMON gene by scientists, but that's just not as fun to report.

Incidentally, I receive untold quantities of bonus points for my spelling of "favorite" above.

This Blog Could Be Your Life

2006-02-01T17:15:00.000-08:00

Oh MAN!

We rock. So much. See, people often forget how awesome we truly are.

I mean, we're writing regularly posted offerings whatever about we feel like. People can even comment on them. I can't wait for the feature spot in Time Magazine. Not as if we read Time or anything.

Probably our biggest innovation is our unprofessional nature. I mean, we're just normal guys with no journalistic history who tell you what we honestly think. Really, it's all kinds of brilliance and symbolism. We even can express a thinly veiled distaste for traditional media outlets, and all sorts of other things most people hold in high regard.

Imagine us as underground Steve Irwin postnews artists, that's just how cool we are.

Mostly, we can talk about things that have never been talked about ever before. On the rare occasions where we have to broach old, stale subjects, our unique and fresh points of view offer grand, sweeping, amazing, and inconceivable insight. When we write, the truth so saturates the page that it can get on our hands if we aren't careful.

And another great invention of ours. Cynicism! No one has ever been cynical before. Especially not in America.

Over all, you should be grateful you have us around. When we're crowned as the Voice Of Our Generation and write for the entire world, you can say you knew us first.

The Greatest Movie Ever

2006-01-30T19:24:00.000-08:00

Before discussing the greatest movie ever, let's reflect on the state of movies today. In the old days people watched movies to see a story, but with today's sensationalist media people want thrills. The success of a top-budget film today is directly proportional to the number of explosions and the volume of fake blood spilled. Of course, moviemakers still include thinly-veiled attempts at storytelling just to keep the critics complacent, but the success of the Matrix sequels and the new Star Wars movies reveals that maybe even that is becoming unnecessary.

Seeing the trend, perhaps it's time to take the next step and do away with those silly "plots" altogether. The Greatest Movie Ever is simply one long, mindless fight scene. No confusing flashbacks of troubled childhoods, no fake British accents, and certainly no love scenes ruined by bad acting. It only includes things people actually want to see: destruction, violence, killing, death, dying, and loss of life. Not even an angsty teen trashing property and eating babies. It has a really awesome-sounding title, like Fahrenheit Fatality, or $uP4r El1m1n4t3, or Bleeding Blade Slam Impact Blast. Let’s go with the last one for now.

Bleeding Blade Slam Impact Blast stars a stereotypical tough-guy protagonist with some random gritty Germanic name like Diefül. The umlaut (dot thing) is essential. Diefül wears a monocle, an oversized trench coat, torn jeans, and the shoes of whatever brand pays us the most money. From within his trench coat he draws a vast assortment of weapons with little regard for practicality or physics. His weapons of choice include a pair of pistols, a shotgun, a rocket launcher, an ice pick, a chainsaw, a sharpened crucifix, and a brick.

The movie begins with Diefül standing in some barren post-apocalyptic landscape littered with the smoking wreckages of postmodern war machines and the charred bones of whales and llamas. A stiff breeze causes Diefül's trench coat and long hair to flap around and look really cool as an ominous chorus chants in Latin. Then following a bombastic hit from the orchestra, ninjas, robots, zombies, aliens, giant insects, and every other conceivable stereotypical antagonistic horde begin to drop from the sky all around Diefül. Mayhem ensues for two whole hours.

The movie ends with a climatic battle with a nameless arch-villain. Both he and Diefül draw ~~lightsabers~~ ~~laser blades~~ ~~beam scimitars~~ non-copyrighted energy-based bladelike weapons and engage in a fight that ends in their mutual deaths. And then the planet explodes.

Awesome, no?

Feminism = Not Fair

2006-01-29T17:06:00.000-08:00

Okay, so, in the 70's, when feminism was on the rise, women were breaking out of gender constructs and forging new notions of identity, redefining their roles in the world. You know. That stuff.

If you're a guy, can you not help but feel a little left out?

Now that feminism has sifted its way into mainstream society and the post-feminist backlash is feebly settling in, I somehow feel as though guys missed out on this whole chance to redefine themselves and are floundering in centuries-old positions. I mean, don't you wanna strike out? Break something? Fight the Man? Or Woman? Or whoever it is exactly that's holding us back? There's got to be something we could do.

Well, ok, so, like, maybe, that's not what I had in mind.

And c'mon! As if any feminists were heterosexual.

Well, I postulate that although as men there might be plenty for us to break out of, there isn't a whole lot for us to break into. While one could argue for the existance of powerful institutions which exclude men, do you suppose that many men want to join the Daughters of the American Revolution? (On a side note, does anyone? Not that I'm unpatriotic; I just don't support organizations that force essays on poor middle school children year after year.)

The solution, my friends, is clear. Regress! Try and force our patriarchial views on back upon society once again! Plowing forward culturally would be require thinking, talking about our feelings, and we might even have to ask for directions.

Scary thought, I know.

Ask Kevin!

2006-01-27T17:34:00.000-08:00

As a selfless philanthropist as well as an absolute authority on everything there is to know (and a few things that aren't to know), I will regularly share with you a few specks of knowledge from the boundless reserve of my intellect. You may submit questions about anything in the comments section of this post, and I will answer them regularly. Obviously, this idea is completely and totally original. Our first question comes from Eric:

If the sky's blue is a refraction from the ocean and water is clear, where does the blue come from? -Eric

The blue is actually caused by the bending of light in the atmosphere. Light from the sun contains the full spectrum of light, but a gas in the upper atmosphere called Cobalt Thorium G released by the Soviet Union during the Cold War in an attempt to wipe out all non-communistic life on Earth reflects most wavelengths of sunlight back into space except for blue light and ultraviolet death rays that cause cancer. Before the Cold War the sky was actually white. The Soviet Union denied responsibility for turning the sky blue and formed a secret international communist cabal to covertly edit all photographs, paintings, and texts from before the incident. It appears that they succeeded.

There was no cancer before the incident either. It just comes to prove that, besides a certain individual, the Russians are to blame for nearly everything that is wrong with the world. Damn ruskies. God bless America!

Three Tips: How to Write a Classic Novel

2006-01-26T10:32:00.000-08:00

Having read enough “classic” novels for school to make my brain do anatomically impossible things, I am of course an absolute authority on them (as I am for everything). Here are a few tips should you desire to compose a classic novel and join the ranks of literature’s great minds.

Tip 1: Overstate everything. The more words you have, the more likely it is that some pompous scholar will find an unintentional metaphor or symbol in your novel, enhancing your image as a talented writer. Let’s take a look at how Charles Dickens did it.

WRONG: My name is Pip.

RIGHT: My father's family name being Pirrip, and my Christian name Philip, my infant tongue could make of both names nothing longer or more explicit than Pip. So, I called myself Pip, and came to be called Pip.

Tip 2: Make it depressing. Do you think people are really going to read your novel if it contains normal people living happy lives? No!

WRONG: Jimmy was an ordinary kid who lived a carefree life with his parents and his dog Skip.

RIGHT: Jimmy was a crippled manic-depressive transvestite with three eyes and a paralyzed left pinky. He lived in an abandoned Nazi gas chamber with his obsessive-compulsive stepfather who worked as a back-alley neurosurgeon during the day and mugged drunks at night to feed his helium addiction. Jimmy’s mother died in a freak lawn mower accident when he was just a baby.

Tip 3: Make it elaborately surreal and scientifically impossible. Many people read books to escape from reality, and your novel should do exactly that.

WRONG: Mr. Wazoo had a minor heart attack and survived. When he woke in the hospital he had a new appreciation for life.

RIGHT: As Mr. Wazoo walked by the railing, a sudden gust of wind swept him off the bridge and onto the passing train below, where the impact of his fall ruptured a fuel line and dosed him with flaming kerosene. Right at that moment an airliner crashed into the train, causing it to derail and plow through a crowded interstate highway. When he woke in the hospital he had a new appreciation for life.

And that, my friends, is how you write a novel that will stand the test of time.

Read the Fine Print

2006-01-22T17:07:00.000-08:00

Ahh, fine print. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I mean, just think how many people would be out of jobs if contracts and laws were written in ways that normal people could understand. Most lawyers would be reduced to hobos*. Which in itself is a fun thought. And we might not even need politicians.

But it's the expression of thoughts like this that fine print apparently guards against. I was filling out the many forms required to use campus space, when I became distracted and generally bored from filling out the form. So I found myself reading the fine print without actually meaning to. Upon reading, I was shocked and ashamed to discover:

"In accordance with education code section 16564-16566, the facility user acknowledges that the school property for use of which application is hereby made will not be used for the commission of any act intended to further any program or movement, the purpose of which is to accomplish the overthrow of the government of the United States by force, violence, or any other unlawful means, and the facility user is not a communist-action organization or communist front organization required by law to be registered with the attorney general of the United States."

At first, I was horrified. But then I realized I could just move my meeting on nonconformism to the local Starbucks**.

*This statement is not meant to diminish the professional standing of lawyer-hobos.
**Starbucks does not endorse the views of either me or the meeting, but will take our money anyway.

Hey Panasonic, Fire Your Ad Guy

2006-01-22T11:20:00.000-08:00

(Click to enlarge) Take a look at this pop-up ad and try to figure out what demographic they're trying to market this to. Hey ladies, if you buy our product, you can be like that hot chick wearing a mini-skirt and football shoulder pads. And it doesnt just come in four colors, it comes in four hot colors.

A Dissertation on Pants

2006-01-19T22:07:00.000-08:00

Greetings, peons (Although I'm sure you're not that kind of orc).

My name is Eric, and no, I'm not your pilot, but I did stay in a Holiday Inn Express last night, and through much time spent meditating on the subject, I have determined myself to be less sane than everyone around me in that I am more normal than they.

But I digress. I have been admitted into the Pantheon here after the obviously awesome potshots I've taken at Kevin, Tyler, and Nader's articles. I seem to have the ability to embellish other people's ideas with deadly...accuracy or something. But now that the pleasantries are out of the way, please direct your attention to the rest of this drivel, Mr. Bond.

Something I can't seem to grasp well is the concept of fashion. Sure, fancy clothes may make you look nice (sometimes), but some trends just appear to be downright ridiculous and in some cases, painful. Take pants, for example. A noble article of clothing that suffers from the English language (what is one unit of "pant" exactly?). The mighty pant(s) has an important job in that while worn correctly, the wearer experiences greatly decreased social awkwardness. However what seems to be "in" is the abuse of certain denim breeds of pants. People will often pay hundreds of dollars for a pair of pants (is that one or two pant units?) that appear(s) to have already been run over by various vehicles bearing heavy loads or left dangerously close to a paper shredder of an executive who is in danger of having his cooked books discovered. Why do people buy something that has obviously already been ruined? (albeit professionally) For the same reason people buy Urban Assault Vehicles and 8 bathroom plantation houses they cannot afford, but that's straying from the rant at hand.

Another article of fashion I would like to point out is certain high-heeled shoes. I refer to them as "pizza-slice" shoes because they are about the same size as a smallish slice of pizza and because they have a deadly point at the toe end that could easily pierce the skin with enough force. I know (or don't know, whichever) why people would buy the shoes (Hummer, 8 bathrooms, etc.), but why would anyone actually wear something like that? If you have to run the risk of disfiguring the half of each foot in order to fit into a multi-hundred dollar pair of pizza slices made out of some form of pleather or, in the case of hundreds of dollars more, the skin of a dead animal, then why bother? It brings up images of the original (un-Disney'd) version of Cinderella in which the three stepsisters chop off portions of their feet in order to fit their foot in the glass pizz-...*ahem* slipper.

Well that's my first piece of madness (or wisdom) and I hope (or don't) that you still (or never) have/had your sanity (or lack thereof) .

I realize now that in a stunning display of hypocrisy, my post is equal to or bigger than Nader’s juggernaut, but I’m sure that it’s entirely not my fault, and is obviously someone else’s.

The Steak to End All Steaks

2006-01-18T22:05:00.000-08:00

I've noticed, with my unparalleled powers of observation, that (I am the only sane and intelligent person in the entire world, but that's another story. As I was saying,) restaurants these days go to incredible lengths to come up with "signature" and "house special" dishes that are supposed to distinguish them from other restaurants as unique and classy. As much as I love it when a restaurant serves me their house special, USDA-select, 7oz. cut of top filet mignon, fresh-cut and trimmed, marinated in soy sauce, sesame, fresh garlic, asian spices and ginger and then slowly and craftfully char-grilled over a dead-tree fire while being glazed with their signature homemade sesame teriyaki seppuku sauce and topped with sautéed fresh New York-style acid trip mushrooms and bleu anthrax cheese crumbles, I wouldn't mind a plain old steak either.

One thing I admire about ethnic restaurants (REAL ethnic restaurants - not the Americanized nonsense) is that they occupy the other end of the spectrum, often neglecting to offer any description of their dishes at all beyond the titles. In Chinese restaurants I sometimes see "Seafood Mystery" on the menu, or the even more enigmatic "Double Happiness." It keeps me guessing. Once at a Korean restaurant I found on the menu - literally - a dish titled "???" with no other descriptives. Now that's what I call bold restaurant entrepeneurship. If I were Donald Trump, I would hire the owner of that restaurant without question. But I wonder if anyone actually orders the ???. I mean, how would you even tell the waiter you want it? "I'd like to try the question marks, please. Extra crispy."

The government beams these thoughts into my head from its mind control towers to distract me from questioning its policies. Well actually Nader thought it up, but he doesn't count.

God Bless... Everyone?

2006-01-16T11:53:00.000-08:00

Why exactly must God bless America, anyway? Did we win a bid for a 10-year exclusive publishing right to His blessing? Has God ever on an off-chance blessed Canada by accident? It is awfully close to America, and I wouldn't blame Him for the mistake. In fact, given Canada's relative peacefulness and environmental friendliness, I would wager that Canada deserves to be blessed more than we do. Being an omnipotent being, I'm sure it's well within God's power to bless everyone instead of just us.

But what exactly does His blessing do, anyway? It doesn't seem to help me much when I sneeze. In fact, more often than not I just go right on sneezing after somebody invokes God's blessing upon me. Maybe I'm allergic to it. Or perhaps His blessing is like an antibiotic and becomes less effective over time, especially when overused. Considering how often we bless each other and America, I can imagine that most strains of bacteria and virii have become resistent to it.

Americans do seem to have an unhealthy obsession with blessing their country. Perhaps the FDA should do a study to see if it's addictive. Let's compare a marijuana user to a patriot. (Click to enlarge, or don't - I understand)

Once your eyes stop burning you may note that they do appear quite similar. Perhaps we're on to something here. Maybe in another decade or two we'll see Blessoderm patches to help people fight their addictions.

Maybe we ask God to bless us as compensation for our employment as world police. Without us to free other nations, the dictators, Communists, and filthy heathens would rule the world! That, and we're just so much better than the rest of the world. I mean, we gave birth to the nuclear bomb, Wal-Mart, plastic surgery, and MTV - all things that have benefitted the entire world. I'm sure it says in the Bible somewhere that if it weren't for America the world wouldn't exist. God bless America.

But Mom, Everyone Has One

2006-01-15T21:13:00.000-08:00

I'll take a cue from Tyler today -as much as I deplore his taste in music, clothing, and tofu- and rant about everyone's favorite ~~packaged culture shop~~ computer company: ~~The Glorious Empire of~~ Apple.

Apple charges far too much for their crap. I love my iConform, but it cost me 300 of my hard-earned birthday gift dollars. Now see, I like to be smart when it comes to my money. Being the son of not one, but TWO accountants makes you stingy (in an awesome way). Now, buying the iConform along with the Apple super-expensive (and overrated) dock with the speakers shaped like the ghosts from Pac-Man will alone cost over 500 bucks. God bless America.

iTrip? There's nothing trippy nor i about it. Get a real FM transmitter for half the price that is separately wired so you can plug into not just your iConform but (gasp) other items as well. Want to hook your ancient CD player up to listen to in your car? Non-iTrip FM transmitter! Tape player? Well I have no idea why you would have one, but yes! Maybe your friend has a ripoff MP3 player made by another company? Done! Buy different.

Want a case so your precious, delicate iConform doesn't get stratched (OH NO!) or damaged? First off I believe that Apple intentionally makes these things out of plexiglass and whipped cream just so they're fragile enough to warrant the purchase of an expensive case. You could be a mindless tool like most iConform owners and dish out 30+ bucks to buy a piece of plasticized jelly that they call a case, or you could be smart like me and just shove it in one of those cloth bags that come with sunglasses. Heck, I know somebody who uses a baby sock to protect her iConform. It works.

How about those computer docks? They sure do look fantastic until you see that they'll cost you hundreds of dollars. Why don't we fight the man for once? Would it absolutely kill you if you had to use the wall charger and computer cable separately? And if you must have the speakers, you could just buy a standalone model and save yourself another hundred bucks. You won't look nearly as cool as the other conformist hacks with their UFO-shaped speakers, but you'll be hundreds of dollars richer.

To quote Apple's own marketting savants: THINK DIFFERENT.

-Nader, whose post was ~~hijacked~~ revised to be awesome by Kevin

Give Hitler A Ride

2006-01-15T17:26:00.000-08:00

I found this Picture of the Week (top, click to enlarge) in a history book under the "World War II Propaganda" section. The government encouraged citizens to conserve fuel so it could be used for the war effort. I couldn't help but imagine this situation still applying today, so behold my modernized version (bottom, click to enlarge). God bless... nevermind.

Things That Suck

2006-01-15T13:53:00.000-08:00

Wow, late posts are habits that catch on rather fast.

Anyway, fog machines really suck.
Huge fog machines are the trademark of mediocre DJ's. When DJ's use fog machines to fill the entire room with fog, that's like admitting that they can't use their lighting system very well and would rather suffocate their audience than try. And, because its cheaper and less dangerous than distrubuting actual drugs, the asphyxiating effect of filling the room with not air can convince many people that the music is actually good (like estacy in raving, only dumber).

So DJ's out there: spend more time on music and less money on fog fluid.

-Tyler

Press CTRL + C to Make Your Computer Explode

2006-01-14T17:33:00.000-08:00

At the library today I picked up this amazing and informative -if somewhat dated- book written in 1981 about how to care for your computer. 1981, back when if you used a computer, you were a computer operator.

Here's an excerpt from the section titled "Dangerous Keys" on page 107:

"When using the CRT, one essential recommendation applies: don't hit keys that might cause great damage, such as wiping out a file. Typically, the most dangerous keys are the "control" keys. Control keys are generally special keys, but may also refer to the simulaneous striking of the CTRL key together with another key. Sometimes, hitting the wrong control key can result in catastrophic damage, such as wiping out a program or file. In such cases, the "control" key should be clearly labeled in order to avoid inadvertent use."

Once again, "don't hit keys that might cause great damage." Wow. This cartoon (click to enlarge) was thoughtfully provided to illustrate the point. Zounds.

The Sand/Zombie/Physics Game

2006-01-12T17:06:00.000-08:00

One of the most awesome games EVER. Just mess around with water, sand, salt, and oil along with plants, wax, and fire. ZOMBIES TOO!

Remember to play only when you have no work to do, or else you'll never do it.

-Nader

Music of the Week!

2006-01-12T17:03:00.000-08:00

I'm sick, so contemplate this.

The 12-track set features Regis on vocals along with guests like Steve Tyrell (who also produced the album), Regis's wife Joy, and even the Donald himself: Donald Trump, who teams with Regis in a sensational version of "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer."

-Tyler

Those Damned Liberals Stole My Girlfriend

2006-01-11T15:29:00.000-08:00

Are you tired of meeting people who don't agree with you? I sure know that I am. Especially when it comes to the opposite sex. I mean, political affiliations are so much more important than silly little things like personality, interests, and intellect when it comes to finding a date. Now that I've found this, I can finally stop wrapping my head in cellophane before entering a crowd of strangers. (Click to enlarge)

I came across this the other day when I stumbled on some random guy's blog. At first I thought it was joke but -much to my horror- I found that it was quite real. I browsed around the site and couldn't help but to notice the carefully balanced combinations of race and gender in each "sample" picture (seen to right). The people in the pictures are also young, attractive, and well dressed. Now I don't mean to stereotype my conservative friends here, but for a dating website that uses hatred of liberalism as its primary marketting ploy, the pictures seem just slightly unrealistic. So in the interest of science, I went to the "newest photos" page that contains actual, non-staged photos submitted by users. I took note of the twelve photos there and found the following:

Of the twelve people pictured...

One was a woman, ten were men, and one was an American flag.
One of the seven men who were not wearing hats did not have a receding hairline.
Two were posing with firearms in hand.
One was holding up anti-liberal picket signs.
Four were overweight.
One was not caucasian.
One appeared to be younger than 30.
Two were smiling.

Again, I mean no offense to my conservative friends. I'm simply reporting what I saw. For science. God bless America.

How Not To Be A Sociopath

2006-01-09T18:43:00.000-08:00

I hope you're having a wonderful(ly terrible) Doom and Gloomday. I interrupt the usual cancer-related bad news to instead bring you the breathtakingly inspirational story of John Ausonius, the Laser Man, which Nader was kind enough to point out to me but too lazy to write about himself. This Swedish serial killer (how often do you hear that?) may not seem like anything out of the ordinary (for a serial killer) at first, excepting that he's Swedish, but take note of his track record when it comes to, well, killing people. He shot thirteen victims, four of them in the head and many of them multiple times in the chest, and only managed to kill ONE. He does not deserve the title of serial killer. Serial injurer? No. Serial failure.

Our serial killers are clearly superior to their European counterparts. God bless America.

Picture of the Week III: Return of the Picture

2006-01-08T19:37:00.000-08:00

This one is a real doozy. Glen(da) is pictured at the center, with Satan to his left and what appears to be Richard Nixon to his right. "He loved women so much he dared to dress like one!" Gee whiz. If you didn't guess, this movie was made in the 1950's, back when this sort of thing was an interesting plot twist. (Click to enlarge)

Out of time?

2006-01-08T19:35:00.000-08:00

Today in my venerated column, the subject of contention shall be: Time.

It occurred to me one day as I was walking along at around noon, and I happened to notice that the sun was at some insane angle that was most certainly not what one would expect for noon. Instead of directly above me, the sun insisted on being somewhere else. Now, I was under the impression that time had something to do with where the sun is, correct? Why should we let the machines tell us when to live our lives? Make a stand, my honorable readers! Fight the power!

Nader on the News: 1/7/06

2006-01-07T17:38:00.000-08:00

Good morrow fine sirs. I'm Nader, the militantly moderate of this here blog. Today's issue is with the recent Sago Mine tragedy.

Explosion in mine, mine collapses, 13 miners trapped. Already not fun to listen to. Time passes, OH LOOK! Looks like the ratio of alive to dead is 12/1! Then Oops. Messed up the fraction. Turned out to be the inverse. (12/1)^(-1). 12 dead, 1 alive.

This reveals the immense necessity for fast information in today's society. It might be too recent to be sure, but the demand for knowledge exceeds its creation. People are left without or with too much hope, and results can be crushing. This does not mean that all information should be withheld, but the term "but it's not confirmed yet" would be VERY nice to add to the end of a statement.

Granted, since the miners died of CO poisoning, it could be assumed that the communication was true at a time, before their lungs surrendered to the carbon monoxide.

Unanimously, this was a tragedy and rescue crews did what they could. This could have all been prevented by meeting safety regulations, but the mine did not.

Slow down Industry, you move too fast. I am a great lover of capitalism, capitalism works where every other economy type does not. However, rampant necessity for profit and the true American policy of laziness endangers the lives of people who NEED to be protected in order to not die on the job. Look at the shuttle explosion several years ago. "OOPS! LOOKS LIKE WE DIDN'T WORRY ENOUGH ABOUT THE INTEGRITY OF THE SHUTTLE! LOL" Is not an excuse, the damage was obvious and maintenence could have saved the workers aboard. The Sago Mine incident also exhibits the losses caused by the haste of business caused by the need for money and profit. The mine had many obvious and previously known issues which endangered the lives of the miners working inside. The saddest part? We need it. Less safety = more risk = more productivity = more profit. Sure, a giant scandal or incident could totally destroy your company, but beforehand there would be a massive influx of money. The deaths were tragic albeit necessary as a victory of probability in today's capitalist world. Socialists would complain about the evil fat capitalist pig sucking the lifeblood of the workers, but Communism wouldn't be much different. If safety was taken too far into the extremes, the people would suffer from a lack of product, and having an equal system promising equal goods to all would only exacerbate the situation by massively increasing demand by turning the good into a required quota, driving the workers even harder and dropping the security standards far lower. The Sago Mine tragedy was a depressing product of desperate demand but was an unavoidable cost of the need of the people to be supplied with coal in order to power homes and light barbecues. Safety regulations must be increased, but coal prices will increase in turn. It is good to know that the incident, however tragic, will increase awareness of dangerous jobs and hopefully increase the amount of funds directed towards decreasing the probability of the tragedy occuring again. Human lives are more important than lower prices.

Sadly, Fred Phelps and his fundamentalist cronies are going to protest at the funeral of the miners, blaming their deaths on homosexuality. Sure, God will kill straight men because of gay people! That totally makes sense! From what I see, Fred's saying that God is targeting non-gays because they let gays exist, but is totally letting the gay people off! Sure, that logic works. The man has no taste and is a malignant growth on the face of humanity. It sickens me that he actually can gain followers to join in his spreading of hatred. Last time I checked, Jesus was a pretty mellow, peaceful guy. He's looking down on you from heaven and shaking his head, Fred.

So that is the first issue of Nader on the News. Have a good night America. Or wherever.

Is It That Day Already?

2006-01-02T20:09:00.000-08:00

I woke up this morning to heavy rain and fog, and turned on the TV to see that part of California in a state of emergency. I thought today could only be Doom and Gloomday, and I was correct. For those of you just joining us, Doom and Gloomday was once called Monday, but that name is obsolete. This lovely Doom and Gloomday, note that deodorant may cause cancer.

Those who shaved at least three times a week and applied deodorant at least twice a week were almost 15 years younger when diagnosed than women who did neither

Well, it looks like the French are far ahead of us on this one.

Have a Mediocre New Year!

2006-01-01T19:27:00.000-08:00

I'd wish you a happy new year, but stastically speaking, that's highly improbable. Heck, even mediocre is a stretch, but I'm feeling generous. Let us take a moment to reflect on this past year, this two thousand and fifth year of the Common Era.

The Year in Review: 2005 at a Glance

Stuff blew up.
Hurricane. The Big One.
People blew stuff up.
Earthquake. The Big One.
People blew other people up.
Tsunami. The Big One.
People got blown up and died.
Flu pandemic brewing. The Big One.
People got blown up and lived.
Iran wants weapons. The Big One.
Stuff blew up.

And the Rolling Stones still aren't dead yet.

So It's Late/Stupid

2006-01-01T11:36:00.000-08:00

Yes, I know I missed my deadline. I'm sorry for any trauma this may have caused to those people whose lives revolve around my posts, which I'm sure includes all of you.

Apparently the force of Kevin's words are not powerful enough, as the demagogue constantly feels the need to supplant his posts with pictures and childish illustrations.

In the sights today is a news post from the disgustingly popular British music website NME. Specifically, this one. It deals with a recent statement by the drummer of the Scottish fashion show, cultural institution and erstwhile rock band Franz Ferdinand. The drummer was apparently attacked by knife-wielding denizens of his hometown and now refuses to leave his home. I am honestly in serious conflict over whether to attack the drummer for being so generally insipid or the website for actually reporting this. So as to perpetuate the illusion of freedom of thought, I'll leave that up to you.

Picture of the Week, Take Two

2006-01-01T00:34:00.000-08:00

I would come up with some long, elaborate political anecdote about how this is a microcosm of the state of our country, but that requires effort that I'm not ready to exert at this festive hour. (Click to enlarge)

The Reason for the Season

2005-12-28T22:08:00.000-08:00

Whatever it is that fool self-proclaimed cynosure Tyler is up to, he is clearly plagiarizing my work. Ignoring his inane rants, I bring you this lovely mockery of everyone's favorite display of seasonal religious bigotry. (Click to enlarge)

Pop Muzik

2005-12-28T18:44:00.000-08:00

I cannot believe the sheer audacity of my counterpart, Kevin. Mentioning religion, on a religious holiday! Honestly. However, proles, I would ask you to remember this; the Earth's tilt is the reason for the season.

Deftly sidestepping the above issue, I would like to direct you to my Next Weekly Post! This brilliant master stroke will deal with the gigantic paradox that is popular music. For now I will merely humbly comment on a particular song; perhaps in the future one will be able to listen to the inanity for one's self! In my proverbial crosshairs this week:

Mariah Carey - Don't Forget About Us

I freely admit that I have not heard this song. But it is by Mariah Carey, and at the moment is the most popular song in America. It must be horrible, to have gotten that far. Her horribly melismatic style is punishment for the ears. Would it kill people to sing one note at a time? We understand that she is a talented singer; must she rub it in our faces over and over again? Mariah Carey's style is merely music for music's sake. Atrocious!

Adieu,
Tyler

It's Doom and Gloom Monday!

2005-12-26T23:39:00.000-08:00

I hate Mondays. And because my opinion is the only one that matters, you should too. Every Monday, which shall henceforth be called Doom and Gloomday, I will bring you bad news. I also decree that for an arbitrary length of time the theme of Doom and Gloomday news shall be cancer. As you know, or will know by the time you finish reading this sentence, everything causes cancer. Everything. This fine Doom and Gloomday, take note that grilling meat causes cancer.

"For the age groups that we're studying, the rate at which women who eat well-done meat are developing breast cancer is nearly five times greater than the rate among women who are not cooking their meat well-done."

I'm certainly not going to let some stupid slab of mutilated animal carcass mess with MY cytochrome P-450 enzyme system. No sir. Down with cooked meat!

Picture of the Week

2005-12-25T22:21:00.000-08:00

In the entropic madness that is the internet one frequently finds bizarre and ironic photos. When you are done reading Tyler's mindless blather you may enjoy the Picture of the Week I, in my selfless philanthropy, choose to share with you. I can smell the Nobel Prize already. (Click to enlarge)

Something stupid this way comes, pt. 1

2005-12-24T09:48:00.000-08:00

Hello, this is Tyler again.

From here on out (every Saturday) I will post a column on a pop culture artifact that is stupid, overrated, ridiculous, and generally below me. Whether it be person, place or thing, I can assure you that you will never look at it the same way again.

The commemorative first subject of my ire: Pandora.com.
Conceived as a part of a "Music Genome Project", Pandora allows one to find songs or artists with similar attributes to songs or artists that they like. A well intentioned project, to be sure. However, the founders of the project seem to be missing one key point about listening to music; people like good music. I don't particularly care how many attributes Good Charlotte may share with any of the bands I listen to, they still suck miserably. Though the service occasionally comes up with something new and interesting, the fact remains that I'm not looking for something that sounds like this one fantastic song I own; I'm looking for another fantastic song. If you insist on being painfully narrow-minded about your musical tastes, I imagine you'll have a grand time with this. For the militantly open minded, however, stick to your own vast, diverse music libraries. Honestly, the very idea that you would like something simply because it has "similar attributes" strikes me as philosophically void.

That said, have some holiday!
Tyler, signing off.

The Next Big Thing!

2005-12-21T10:49:00.000-08:00

Hello and welcome to the Next Big Thing.

My name is Tyler, I am the co-founder and creative energy behind Elitist Indifference, and I am going to change everything. I will change the way you look at the internet. I will change the way you listen to music. I will change the way you eat breakfast.

But fear not this change, my lovely readers. Rest assured that the future of the world is in good, reliable hands. Now go about your normal, boring lives for now, but soon enough I shall be back with earth-shaking material. For I am Tyler, and the world shall hear my roar.

P.S.: I sang lead vocals on that New York, New York track. I'm so talented.

Holiday Greetings or Lack Thereof from Kevin

2005-12-21T09:57:00.000-08:00

I have not properly introduced myself: I am Kevin, but you may call me Kevin. I am the leader, founder, and most certainly the best of Elitist Indifference. I enjoy jazz and classic movies, but all you really need to know is that my taste in music and entertainment is superior to yours. And don't even think about my political views - your inferior mind probably can't even begin to comprehend them.

In other news I, in my great generosity and boundless compassion, wish you a happy holiday(s) or lack thereof. Here is a candy tank made by yours truly. Because candy houses suck. God bless America. (Click to enlarge)

Mission Statement

2005-12-20T00:06:00.000-08:00

We are so much better than you, we don't need to tell you our mission nor do you need to know. Peon. But don't start thinking we don't have a mission just because we're not going to tell you. You trust us, of course. Because we're better than you.

Seeing that you lowly tools have an infinitesimal attention span, we will now divert your attention away from our refusal to state our mission by singing the theme from New York, New York. And by us, we mean both of us. Now isn't that patriotic?

Appropriately Representative Title of First Post

2005-12-18T20:51:00.000-08:00

Hello and welcome to the rest of your life. Please keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times and remember that we are better than you. And by we, we mean us.