Zombie Jesus wants you to sue
Do you have the right to put up Christmas decorations? Of course you do. We are a country based on property rights and religious freedom.
Unless your decorations go against the prevailing winds of the primary government-backed religion. Laws, yes.
A town is taking legal action against a homeowner because they do not like his zombie-themed nativity scene. They do not like it at all.
So they did what any government entity would do. They took out the rule book and dusted off every arcane statute they could find to hassle the guy.
That’s using the old noodle. Mmm, brains. Let us pray!
Police forces across our great nation are financially strapped and forced to cut and prioritize services, but do not worry. The city has code enforcement funding to protect us against zombie Jesus.
In other news, a woman who practices the Pastafarian religion recently won the right to wear a colander in her driver’s license photo. I think I’m in love.
Ramen.
http://www.foxnews.com/us/2014/12/23/ohio-homeowner-told-to-take-down-his-zombie-nativity-scene/
Airlocket Sonnet with my Easter Bonnet
Credit: Neil Armstrong/NASA
Today I offer a simple space sonnet dedicated to me and you.
Imagine that we are standing together in an airlock. The situation is obvious. Between us and the cold reality of space is a door. And on the wall is a button. It’s the button. You know, the one that controls the door.
Let’s explore the possibilities together. Think of it like a cakewalk in space.
- I have helmet, you do not: This one’s a no-brainer. I push the button. I mean, how often does life provide a chance like this? You have to take it. Space is incredibly empty. I hope you enjoy the irony that it’s about to contain your brains.
- You have a helmet, I do not: You just love having one over on me, don’t you? Quite simply life isn’t worth living knowing that you have something that I do not. I push the button. I hope you can live with yourself, you helmet-owning bastard.
- Neither of us has a helmet: Now this is quite the pickle. What to do, what to do? Ultimately, and don’t take this personally, but I’ll squeak out some famous last words about gooses and ganders and then pound that button with style and flair. Because, you and I are going to be hanging out for a while.
- Both of us have a helmet: Sigh. This is all so tedious and pointless, isn’t it? Sure, I could push the button, but so what? What does it matter? Nothing would change. It’s not even worth the damn effort. It just makes me angry. So I’m not pushing anything. Do what you want. I don’t care.
By the way, according to Wikipedia, a space suit costs $12 million USD and has a mass of 47 pounds (21 kg) without the life support backpack, but how much fun is that? That might seem expensive for just one suit but remember: It comes with two pairs of pants*.
*A very old José Jiménez joke.
Lemming My Eggo
Sometimes I feel a bit like a lemming who looks around and says, “Hey. Sup with that cliff, yo?”
Is there free will? If not, then it sucks to be you. Because, those dies that were cast are mighty damn cruel. Think about it. If there’s no free will then you have to act like this. Somebody clearly doesn’t like you.
If there is free will? Then you’ve got a hell of a lot of explaining to do.
“What happened? Why did you run over and kill those pedestrians?”
“I couldn’t see. The sun was in my eyes.”
“Uh, okay. Follow-up question: Why the fuck was your car moving?”
“I don’t know. All the other cars (that I couldn’t see) were moving, too. I had faith we were all moving together. It seemed like the thing to do.”
“Seriously. How do you expect us to allow you to continue to roam free? Shouldn’t you have been crushed upon the rocks at the bottom of the sea cliff by now? And, just curious. I have to ask. Have you reproduced yet?”
Next!
“Hey, you. What’s your story?”
“I decided to teach my 10-year-old son how to drive. A truck. Right by a river. And, for good measure, I brought all of my other sons along for the ride.”
Good plan. After all, what could possibly go wrong?
Long story short, I choose to do things like not walk in front of moving vehicles. To each their own.
[More] Tales of the Webmaster
Let’s start with a little webmaster joke. I apologize, but this joke relies on some complicated insider industry jargon. Maybe some of my fellow webmasters will get the humor. The rest of you might miss it.
Q. Why did the webmaster throw in the towel?
A. Clients exist!
Now we move on to the following creepy tales of horror. These are true stories that actually happened. You have been warned.
Continue reading →
Tales of the Webmaster
Let’s start with an exceedingly simple logic proof:
- Hell is other people.
- Clients are people.
- Clients are Hell.
Now we move on to the following creepy tales of horror. These are true stories that actually happened. You have been warned.
Continue reading →
Kids These Days
Real life example of someone thinking he is the shit.
Once upon a time there was a little movie called Back To The Future 2 – This Time It’s That Time. Ol’ Doc Brown lands his DeLorean out front, picks up Marty McFly, then takes him on a ride to the future because Marty’s as-yet unborn son is in some kind of trouble.
Doc’s plan is for Marty to imitate his progeny long enough to resolve the trouble. Brilliant. What could possibly go wrong?
The whole plot of BTTF 2 is predicated on a cutesy throw-a-way line at the end of BTTF 1 when Doc and Marty have this conversation:
Doc: Marty, you gotta come back with me!
Marty: Where?
Doc: Back to the future.
…Marty: Wait a minute, Doc. What are you talking about? What happens to us in the future? What, do we become assholes or something?
Doc: No, no, no, no, no, Marty, both you and Jennifer turn out fine. It’s your kids, Marty, something has got to be done about your kids!
I call this type of phenomenon Star Wars Syndrome. It’s what happens when your movie is so successful that a sequel becomes mandatory but something you thought was a cute detail at the time actually paints you into a corner and now you’re committed because the fans will only tolerate so much hinky nonsense with the storytelling. (Unless you’re J.J. Abrams, of course, then you simply don’t give a shit. You just stuff it in your Mystery Box.)
Because of this, when they made the BTTF sequel, they had to have the storyline be about a trip to the future – no matter what. And then, because of disturbances to the timeline, Marty’s father and girlfriend both end up looking like completely different actors.
I know! That’s heavy.
My point is this: In the future Doc Brown tells Marty to pull his pants pockets inside-out, because that’s what the kids think looks cool and if he doesn’t, he’ll stick out like a sore thumb.
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There is unrest in the forest…
Meanwhile, as an ant on the trail that just got … spored, I guess it’s all a matter of perspective? Damn those spoiled, ungrateful maples. -Ed
The Trees
by Rush
There is unrest in the forest
There is trouble with the trees
For the Maples want more sunlight
And the Oaks ignore their pleas
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Shouts from the Abyss 
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