Tag Archives: human

Blogger’s Message: The Cheer In Review

raincloud

Artist’s rendition of my smile.

Mr. Editor, Mr. Blogger’s Apprentice (unpaid), members of the WordPress community, fellow Abyssians, dear reader:

I am happy. I am elated. I am full of good cheer.

Yes, it has been a banner year for negativity. The future is so bright I have to wear shades. Just make sure the lenses are made out of lead to stop the radiation.

To my apprentice, let me say this: Make no mistake, I need another trenta caramel frappuccino with whipped cream. Go get me one.

In short, there’s good news on every possible horizon. Hyppo and Critter have made up and are getting along famously. The Guru on the top of the mountain is only giving out good advice. Our son has outgrown his gerbil phase and is treating us decently. Hell, I’ve even forgiven my #boss and we kissed and made up. There is no pain. I am not crying.

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42

You have to clicky to find the Easter egg.

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.

mac-shutdown

A Little Privacy Please

Focker!!!

Focker!!!

Tom Cruise was once in a wacky little movie called Minority Report. I distinctly remember a scene where he strolls through a mall and the shops fling pitches at him … using his name. Creepy! Apparently the stores were able to scan his retina, retrieve his preferences and so forth, and all literally in the blink of an eye with time to tailor a persusion attempt tailored just for him.

“Psst. Tommy boy! Over here, over here! Listen, between you and me, we both know you read Fifty Cups of Earl Grey. Come on, man. There’s no sense in denying it. If that’s the way you roll, come on in! Don’t worry, we’ll keep it on the D-L. Check out this new all-leather KitchenAid Mixer complete with eye-bolts and D-ring snap ons, if you know what I mean.”

I don’t know about you but that kind of technology scares the shit out of me.

“Psst. Tom!! Over here. Did you know it has been over six months since your last purchase of Depends Brand Incontinence Products? It’s way past time for refill, buddy!!!”

Oh shit.
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Yo, Jack! Handy Creep Thoughts by Tom Taker

Don’t you want to play with me? Hugs!

Tom’s Law #42
Never accept personal hygiene advice from someone who smells like the laundry hamper from the high school football team’s locker room.

Perhaps you’ve met the sort. The sort that acts superior like they are somehow better than you in every way. I guess you have to grudgingly admire an overactive imagination:

I’m smarter than you. Except everything I do ends up being the most idiotic shit you’ve ever seen.
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Rip City

Something tells me this was fate! (Click to enlarge to read entire story.)

I was emailed a news clipping today. Honestly, don’t ask me why. I can’t explain why so many folks email me stuff about things like farts, poop and what not. Anyone know why?

Anyway, the author is a sixth grade student and seems the sort, I hope, that will one day grow up to read my humble little blog. Or, way more likely, I’ll be reading hers! She’s got the writing skills that I sorely lack.

Abyss brings the greetings

I’ve decided to expand my operations. There are big changes afoot. No longer will I wallow in the pitiful mediocrity of my words. Blogging is passe and busted. No more blog posts from me. Today I boldly leap into the exciting, glamorous and fast-paced world of greeting cards!

Since the market is over-saturated and rife with competition, I’ll need a way to stand out from the crowd. I prefer to be left standing in my field. That’s just the way I roll.

So I will specialize in negativity cards. I haven’t mapped out all the sub-genres yet, but we’ll cover pregnant maids, wood chipper accidents, death threats and many passive-aggressive themes. Our aim is to bring a touch of gritty realism to a product that is normally syrupy-sweet and overly upbeat. And, as an added bonus, in addition to tired greetings, each of our cards is handcrafted in the Abyss and tells a gripping story. Enjoy the narrative!

Welcome to the Abyss Greeting Card store!

Card – Front

Card – Inside


Zoology 101

In your cage at the human zoo,
They all stop to look at you.
–Styx, circa 1977

Someone mentioned Styx the other day. I apologize but I can’t stop the references now.

This post is brought to you by the letter “Z,” the omega of the alphabet experience. Just like the human race, all good things must come to an end, so must the A-Z Blogger Challenge.

My idea for this post was “zoo.” I didn’t even bother going to the Google to find some obscure reference that might make me look smarter than that. Not this time.

But I wanted my own special spin on it. Fortunately someone mentioned Styx lately and, well, it just came together. Humans in a cage at the zoo; a human zoo. Now that’s an idea I can work with!

As the author of Society of Assholes I have done some limited research in this area. Before we begin, there is one important distinction to be made. I now excerpt from the book:

You might correctly be asking by now, “What the fuck? What about murderers, rapists, child molesters and such? Why don’t you call them assholes, too?” That’s a good point. However, for the purposes of this book, such extreme (and obvious) examples are beyond the pale. Those people are indeed true “assholes” and destined for a special level of Hell (I wish), but the purpose of this book is a bit more subtle. It seeks to explore the asshole within each and every one of us. The asshole that expresses itself from the typical and average individual within the larger context of every day society. That is the asshole we will be seeking.

With that in mind, it’s time to begin our tour of the zoo. We’re all too fat and out of shape to walk these hills under our own steam, so climb aboard this tram and we’ll be on our way. Please remain seated at all times, keep your head, arms and legs within the tram, and no flash flash photography.

Genus – Addictus Parentus

In our first exhibit we see a typical modern family. A husband, a wife, and two children, a boy and a girl. As you can see, the parents are smoking away furiously on their cigarettes. This is an important mechanism for passing destructive behavior from one generation to the next. This parental genome lacks the ability to evaluate long-term risk and there is a very high probability the addiction will be picked up by the children, who typically ape what they know and see.

I actually had the good fortune to spot addictus parentus in their natural habit just the other day. We were at a restaurant enjoying some dinner. At a table nearby was a family of four. They fit the profile but I had not yet made the species identification. If you are patient, though, field research can often be rewarding. The adults, both at the same time, got up and left the restaurant.

This was a curious development and it got my attention. Leaving the children alone in a restaurant is somewhat rare these days. I crept up to the front window, making use of plastic plants for cover, and observed my quarry. Of course! They were outside smoking.

Luckily I was carrying my logbook and successfully documented the sighting.

The Masculinity Experience

Welcome to our newest exhibit, sponsored by Ford Trucks that are built Ram tough and solid as a rock from heartland America. (Free truck nuts with every purchase.) Yes, it’s The Masculinity Experience featuring our prize specimen, Mike Rowe.

You all know Rowe from shows like Dirty Jobs and Ford commercials. That’s why we have these little infopoints mounted on each exhibit. For example, did you know Rowe started as an opera singer and was known for his arias? And that he then moved on to being an on-air host for the shopping channel QVC?

Arias and shopping!!!

Even in light of those facts, amazing the masculinity of this specimen is above reproach. Testing has confirmed that his testosterone is taking steroids.


I had more planned for the tour but we’re out of time. Maybe we’ll continue the tour later. That’s all, folks!

This is my “Z” post for the A-Z Blogger Challenge.