Outside The Box
We’ve all been told at some point in our lives to “think outside the box” by some weasel-face jackass, right?
The problem is when your mind is limited, it’s really hard to be aware of how it’s limited. Because, you know, you’re not even aware. True original thought is so contrary to our ingrained pre-programmed mental pathways that if we actually had one it would bite us in the ass.
Perhaps heart attacks and strokes are merely the symptoms of people who’ve experienced an original thought. Hey, I’ll bet that’s an original thought right there. Ugh. What’s this tingling in my fingers? Oh, pretty rainbow colors. My head hurts.
Thunk!
Oops. Sorry about that. I’m back. Turns out it wasn’t an original thought after all. Just the same old thing that always when I happen to stand up too fast. I’ll try to be more careful so we can get this damn post over and done with.
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Dear Guru: Burning Down The House
Q.
Your home is on fire. Grab five items (assume all people and animals are safe). What did you grab?
Signed,
–Peeping Pyromaniac
A.
You’re sick, you know that? Seriously. Get some help. I mean, I like a tasty thought experiment as much as the next guy, but come on! My home is on fire? Tell me how you really feel.
OK. I’ll do my best. I’m a professional and I still have a job to do. I have taken the Advice Columnist’s Oath and that means, basically, I have to take it. Each and every time. Very well. Out of respect for the craft I will give this question a serious response.
What do I grab?
First Item: “Screen.”
I grab the screen. Get it? Screen grab? Woo hoo! I crack myself up. I’m a real hoot. My house is on fire and I’m cracking some of my best improv material ever. It’s a win win.
Professionalism be damned.
Uh, what was the question again?
Seriously, though. I’m not kidding. The 42″ flat screen LCD TV is obviously the first thing. I’m not insane. An American is nothing without his TV. And I can carry that puppy under my arm, all by myself. I’m sure it won’t be too heavy because I’ll be all hopped up on adrenaline from the flames.
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Today Is Your Dearthday!
When I hear Christian music I often ask myself a question.
Jesus Christ across the galaxy
Bringing toys and goodies for you and me
Are you singing for His glory? Or your own? You have to dig deep for the true answer.
That might be an awkward opening, but here’s the point of this post:
Today is a new day. It’s my friend’s birthday. So I decided to go on Facebook and send him some cheese-ball greetings. “Congratulations for being alive on a day that signifies the number of rotations of this planetoid around its star being a whole number. Jolly good, chum!”
I expected to see Facebook jam the birthday in my face. But it didn’t. There was no mention of my friend on the birthday dailies. Hmm. What to make of this?
Using logic and deduction, I theorized that my friend didn’t share his birthday with Facebook. Wise move. Extrapolating further, I reasoned that my friend probably didn’t wish his birthday to be generally known. That seemed to me to be a reasonable hypothesis that fit all the known facts.
What to do? What to do?
I had a choice. Post publicly on his wall, thus announcing the occasion to all of his friends, or respect what I assumed were his wishes and keep it private?
Since it was his special day, and not my own, I decided to recognize that he’s an individual who exists in the universe and has feelings. I decided to show respect for that.
I sent my greetings in private.
Feeling warm and fuzzy about being a considerate friend, I went back to my homepage to see what other flotsam Facebook had washed up on my beach. I do this daily to remind me about the true nature of humanity and such.
Bazinga!
There it was, on the very top of the news feed. Someone else just wished my friend a happy birthday. In public. For all to see. Bastard! Quickly his Facebook was overrun with the bloody things. They say it’s the thought that counts. So how do you take a good thing and convert it into the equivalent of peeing in your so-called friend’s Wheaties?
There it sits.
Happy birthday to you? Or me? Who exactly are we celebrating here?
“Psst! Hey, everybody! Look at me! Look at how wonderful I am remembering my friend’s birthday and shit. Aren’t I good? Don’t you love me? You love me, don’t you? Why hasn’t everyone liked this? Click like or you’ll be unfriended! Somebody call the whambulance!”
Again, to this birthday interloper, I ask: Whose glory is motivating your behavior, you narcissistic creepazoid?
Theorizing About You
Sung to the tune of Old Toy Trains:
Disembodied brains
Existing in a jar
A theory not disproved
No matter who you are
A theory from a man
Messin’ with your head
Little fool, can you even know
If you are alive or dead
The wife is out of town so I finally got to watch some Stephen Hawking on Netflix. (Sorry, Northern Exposure. You’re officially on hiatus.) I promptly wrote the song above. Thanks a lot, Steve.
Actually, without even knowing it, I twixed the mind master of disaster a long time ago. You see, I’ve long had this theory of my own.
In my version, I am the only person who really exists. An evil all-powerful genius creates a bubble of reality, with me at the center, that follows me around no matter where I go. Places, things and yes, even people, are all illusions created to torment my existence. Apparently the meaning of life is to torture me, the humble innocent. The most probable explanation is that He’s writing a sequel to the Book of Job.
If my theory is true, that means I’m talking to myself right now. Touché, touché!
The point of the brain in a vat thought experiment is that the theory can’t be disproven, therefore, it’s possible. I like to think probable. It also shows that scientists will gleefully rip from the inventive world of Hollywood for their own selfish means. Isn’t there some way to protect us from the scientists?
Oh, almost forgot. They aren’t real, either.
That Logic is Gay
Humans tend to get into trouble when failures of logic fail to kill them.
That’s because a logic failure that doesn’t produce death is interpreted by our evolutionary brains as “success.” The more complex the logic the greater the opportunity for a false assumption of a logic win.
That’s all. Let’s explore our sexualities together a simple example.
“Gay people can’t reproduce.”
Orly?
That must make managing teh gay very, very easy. Simply cull from the herd anyone missing reproductive organs, right?
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Neutral Universe Theory
Behold my latest creation: Neutral Universe Theory. Or, as I like to call it, NUT.
I scientifically debated calling it Negativity Universe Theory. It would have been just as nutty. But, in the end, the word “negativity” implies a point of view and I don’t think the Universe really gives that much of a shit. Besides, like I’ve always said, recognizing that things are the way they are isn’t negative at all. It’s known as “reality.” A little place you should visit sometime.
So what’s in the Universe? Matter and energy. Like Carl Sagan said, we’re made of the same “stuff” as stars. Hand in hand with this is the Law of the Conservation of Energy which states “the total energy of an isolated system cannot change – it is said to be conserved over time.”
Therefore, the stuff in the Universe is a zero sum game. Nothing is created or destroyed. It just gets reorganized.
What else can be found in the Universe? Besides matter and energy? A core component of NUT is the belief in life and all that goes with it. Things like emotion, thought, and pain. “I hurts, therefore I exist. Sometimes I just hurts.” This is the realm of all that is not energy and is not matter. It’s something else.
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WSJ Asshole Hotline
I love having a brain that is capable of critical thought. Every once in a while a little moment comes along where it kicks in and I’m actually proud of myself. Don’t worry, these moments pass quickly and are soon forgotten.
They say, “Don’t believe everything you read.” Or, “I know it’s true ’cause I saw it on TV.” We all like to act like those truisms don’t apply to us. Only those other lemming idiots. Never us. Yet we fall for it all day long. True moments of “question everything” are few and far between.
I was on my break. In front of me was the day’s Wall Street Journal. Naturally, since he’s a primetime asshole, it’s one of the boss’ favorite publications. You can tell by the level of crumplage and how the pages are strewn about which pages have been read and which ones haven’t. He typically digests the thing in several sittings.
There, on the front of a section he hadn’t gotten to yet I saw the headline, “How To Be A Better Boss in 2013.”
Uh oh. I better check this out, I thought. If it’s really bad I can throw it away and he’ll never know the difference. The last thing I need in my life is the fucking WSJ filling my boss’ already tainted mind with even more evil.
I picked it up and started to read.
“Holy mother of God.”
Shouts from the Abyss 
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