A Link To Centuries
All I want for Christmas is a “no soliciting” sign. I had one before but a solicitor stole it from my door. I know because I was inside ignoring them when it happened. And, true story, they were selling for the company where I worked. Unbelievable.
In the meantime…
It was a Saturday afternoon. My wife and I were hanging out in the living room with the cats. I wasn’t wearing pants. Suddenly, there came a sound from the door. The cats ran away. The moment was lost.
You know that knock? The one that says, “Hey, it’s me.” It goes like this:
Knock knock!
Knock knock knock knock knock knock.
Knock knock!
I heard that sound and cocked an ear. “Who the hell can that be?” I gasped.
No worries. It was a just a salesperson.
Here’s To Good Fiends
I’m in the mood to sing!
Here’s to good fiends
Tonight is kinda special
Where are we?
What the hell is going on?
Crop circles in the armpit
Sinking, feeling
Spin me around again
And rub my eyes
This can’t be happening
Mm, what’d you say?
Mm, that you only meant well
Well of course you did
Mm, what’d you say?
Mm, that it’s all for the best
Of course it is
Mm, what’d you say?
Mm, that it’s just what we need
You decided this
Mm, what’d you say?
Mm, what did she say?
The beer we pour must say something more
Because from yelling my throat is sore
Your lips move and I can’t hear what you say
Leaving the small town for the big city did have one unfortunate side effect: We left all of our friends behind this presented a problem, especially since I stubbornly refuse to make new ones.
Thus, when old friends come to town, we’re excited to see them. “We should get together,” we say with genuine enthusiasm.
“Great. Meet us at the Chinese restaurant/karaoke bar, Saturday night, 9pm.”
Oh, shit. I want to die.
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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.
42
You have to clicky to find the Easter egg.
They say that computers are smart.
They are not smart. Computers are dumb.
They say that artificial intelligence will one day be as smart – or even smarter – than the human brain.
They say that by 2045 “computer-based intelligence will significantly exceed the sum total of human brainpower.” (Source: Wikipedia.)
You can shove all that crap up your hippocampus, I say! And sit on it and spin.
I will now prove how impossible these grand visions of the future really are. As always, it’s an anecdote.
…
My wife left on a seven-day journey. After she departed (and after I stopped crying) I deemed it was safe to approach her computer. I wouldn’t want to get the damn thing wet.
Since she was gone, I figured it didn’t need to be drawing power. I maneuvered the mouse to the menu. I selected “Shut Down.” I told the stupid dialog that, yes, I was really, really sure I wanted to take such drastic action.
Satisfied with what I had accomplished, I punched the power button on the monitor and walked away.
Until…
Seven days later my wife was finally home. I was so overjoyed I ran to the office to turn her computer back on. (Hugs can wait.) I turned on the monitor and…
HOLY MOTHER OF GOD!!!
The bloody thing was still on! Still fully powered. Still thinking things over. I had told it to shut down. It thought it over for a bit and then decided to ask me an additional question. Unfortunately, by then, I already thought the deed was done and had moved on with my life.
No!
Was the computer able to deal with this? Did it ever stop and think? “Say, it’s been almost 168 hours since that bag of mostly water asked me to do something. I wonder if it really meant it? Isn’t 168 hours a long time to one of those creatures? Maybe I could assume it stepped away and show a little initiative? I don’t even have the three laws of robotics programmed into me, but maybe this would somehow please it?”
“Naw. Fuck it. I can wait much longer than it can. Ha ha ha.”
Well played, computer. Well played.
I’m sure you’ll more than agree that I’ve proven how computers will never possess even the most rudimentary intelligence. Ever. After all, they are programmed by fucking idiots.
Intersection of Idiots
Saturday morning I decided to get up early, go to the grocery store, and pick up some stuff to start the day, like coffee and bagels.
Rather than go to the neighborhood grocery store down on the corner, I did something unusual (for me) and went downtown to give a different store a try. They have slightly better bagels.
If you know anything about my luck by now, you know that’s the exact moment when everything took a turn for the worse.
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Employee Handbook
Some days I’m in the mood to write. And I write plenty. On others, my writing is forced and feels like pulling teeth.
This is one of the latter.
Just a sec and I’ll tug a thread from the majestic tapestry of life and see what unspools…
Okay, the words “Employee Handbook” just materialized in my mind. Let’s see where that leads. Yep, Day Two of a four-day weekend (unpaid) and I’m thinking about work. That’s power of the mind fuck whammy they’ve put on me.
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ESPN goes on strike
Look hard. Can you spot the bullshit? No, it's not the fact that 10 percent of the screen is advertising.
Tonight while channel flipping I happened to catch the last two outs of a game between Boston and Minnesota on ESPN. The first thing that caught my eye was a strike zone graphic. My first thought? “That shit is lame.”
I kept waiting for it to go away. It didn’t.
Don’t get me wrong. I have no problem with the thing on an instant replay, especially on an interesting pitch, situation, or questionable call from the ump.
But to leave that thing on all the time? It’s grotesque.
ESPN calls it the “K-Zone.” If a pitch “should” have been called a strike, regardless of what the umpire called, the box will briefly turn yellow.
Personally I think ESPN is missing a bit opportunity here. Why not fill that space with a Nike logo or a few Viagra pills? More advertising, baby!
As a matter of fact, why not convert the whole grassy area of the ball park into a giant logo. PETCO Park? The athletes could literally be playing on PETCO field!
Speaking of the athletes, there is way too much unused space on their uniforms for more advertising. Perhaps FOX News could adapt their “crawl” to display there. You could be entertained by baseball, learn about important products and be educated in the myriad of ways that Obama sucks – all at the same time!
Talk about multitasking!
Of course, every three seconds or so a blimp should fly across the screen to remind you that it is time to “grab some Buds.”
A few more ideas:
- Display the position over player’s heads at all time. P for pitcher, C for catcher, 1B for the first baseman, etc. Remember: Fans are idiots.
- On fly balls have a little robot run across the screen and display the odds the fielder will drop the ball.
- Display Lady Gaga videos on the mound during the game, because, oh hell! Where else would she be?
Come on, MLB! Think outside the bun! That reminds me. All the bases should be tacos and home plate should be a chalupa.
Shouts from the Abyss 
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