Continuing this week's "ripped from the headlines" theme, I bring you an article courtesy of Wonder Yak and CNN.com.
As this article describes, 18 year old Ryan Schallenberger, was allegedly planning on bringing bombs to school. This in itself, is not funny. What's funny is what Ryan said after he was arrested. Craig Townsend of the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms, and Explosives says:
"He said death was better than life," Craig Townsend said. "He told the sheriff he wanted to die and go to heaven and once he got there, he wanted to kill Jesus."
Yep. And so here is the crux of my post today-- not the fact that this kid bought explosives, or what his intentions were, but whether or not Ryan Schallenberg needs a psychological evaluation for his statement as the prosecutor's argue.
Clearly, the kid needs a psych evaluation. He bought explosives and wrote a journal planning to bomb his high school. That's all the evidence anyone should need. However, the prosecutors argued that his statements are an indication that he needs psychological evaluation. My question is why?
I think it's important to note that this all took place in South Carolina where, well, a lot of people are psyched about Christianity. So taking a look at his statement, it isn't all that crazy. First of all, if he was brought up in a religious household, it's not crazy for him to believe that Jesus is in Heaven and that he can go there when he dies. The article didn't say that he believed he'd go there when he blew up the school, just that he might commit suicide, wanted to die, and kill Jesus.
So it all logically follows. It's like in a recent episode of House that I saw where a small child had a small cat figurine stuffed up his nose, so he stuffed a fireman, fire engine, and policeman up there to try and get the cat out. House said that the kid was smarter than they gave him credit for since he understoof that kind of system. Well, Schallenberger is a lot like that. The cat is Jesus, he's the fireman, and death is the fire engine. And who hasn't said they wanted to kill somebody when they were upset at one time or another? "I'm gonna kill those idiots at amazon for not shipping my item in time for the party!" or "I'm gonna kill myself, I can't believe I just made that mistake." Or even, "I'm gonna kill those postal service guys for delivering my mail to the wrong address," to which they reply, "Oh no you won't!" You can't say that this kid is nuts because he said he wanted to "kill someone" even if it was Jesus, who he logically believes exists in a Heaven that he can get to.
What I would REALLLY like to know, and what I think is more important, is WHY he wants to kill Jesus. Is it because he was CAUGHT trying to bomb the school? Does he think that it was, "That darn Jesus, again!" who stopped him from succeeding? Does he often think that Jesus interferes in his evil plans? That's still not logically crazy, but it definitely defines his moral compass and whether or not he understands right and wrong. Or did he just run out of people to blame and want to kill, so he finally settled on Jesus?
The prosecutors also had brilliant statements like, "His conduct is bizarre," which is like saying, "He's the weird kid in class." He also knocked over some furniture because he didn't want to walk his sister to his Grandmother's house. So he's an angry teen. I'm not sure that's much to go on. If ANYTHING-- and remember, this is regarding the quote, NOT the bombing plan-- he's one of the more super-motivated teens I've ever heard of. He was so mad at Jesus that he actually established a mental plan to deal with him. Most people would be like,
"I'm so pissed at that Jesus!"
"Jesus Ramirez, the sophomore?"
"No man, Christ!"
"Oh-- yeah well, whattya gonna do, right?"
"Yeah, you're right...whatever..."
But Ryan Schallenberger was like,
"I'm so pissed at that Jesus!"
"Jesus Ramirez, the sophomore?"
"No man, Christ!"
"Why are you so mad at Jesus Christ?"
"Why aren't I! It's everything man-- I really wanna kill that guy."
"Hahaha."
"I'm not kidding!"
"Uh...oh...but, he already died....and then came back...and then died again...."
"So?"
"Well, uh...so you can't--"
"--Nobody tells me what I can't do!"
"But--"
"I'm gonna do it, man, I'm totally gonna kill Jesus!"
"Ok, fine. How?"
"How? I'm gonna-- I'm gonna...kill myself, and then go to Heaven."
"Alright...and then?"
"And then what?! And then I'm gonna kill Jesus!"
"How!?"
"Dude, however, it's not like he'll be expecting it. I'll just, you know, like, punch him in the back of the head."
"You're gonna punch Jesus?"
"Yeah, right on the dome."
"You're gonna punch Jesus right on the dome?"
"Hell yeah, I am!"
"And you think that'll kill him? Why not bring a gun or something?"
"You can't bring a gun with you when you die and go to Heaven! Don't be an idiot!"
"What about an ipod?"
"Huh?"
"Well, can you bring an ipod? I mean, what song would you be listening to?"
"I dunno..."
"Maybe like P.O.D. or something? Rammstein?"
"Nah, probably more like Aaron Copeland's 'Rodeo.' Or 'Applachian Spring'"
"Was that a composer joke?"
"It looked suspiciously like one, didn't it?"
"Jesus Christ..."
"Tell me about it, I hate that guy."
"But-- Don't you think you'll go to hell afterwards?"
"Whatever man-- I'll burn content, knowing that that cock-blocking Jesus isn't around anymore."
"Around in Heaven you mean..."
"Yeah, around in Heaven."
"......"
"......"
"......"
"......"
"OK, good talk!"
So for his statement alone, I think that the prosecutors are wrong-- he doesn't need a psych evaluation. He needs one for his explosives and his bomb journal, and probably a lot of help and jailtime. For all we know, he needed that "hook" on his college apps and he thought, "Well, nobody's killed Jesus in years!" so he went for it.
Totally Krossed Out (Yes, the Kriss-Kross Album),
Witz
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Monday, April 28, 2008
Witz Pickz: SVU (Well, I don't PICK "SVU," It's a Referenceto the--...Dammit)
Some people move into their parents' house when they're done with high school. Others are caged in their parents' basement for twenty-four years and forced to birth seven children for their Dad. Different strokes and whatnot.
If you haven't heard, this shocking article at the BBC News website reports that an Austrian man, who is both 72 years old and possibly Donald Sutherland, caged his 18 year old daughter in the basement, where he kept her for twenty-four years, forcing her to birth seven of his children THAT HE ALSO KEPT IN THE BASEMENT along the way. The children now range in age from five to nineteen. His wife, "appears to be unaware of the alleged crimes."
Where to start, where to start, where to WHAT THE FUCK, DUDE? Let's go beyond the "how could anyone ever possibly do that," aspect because yeah, but apparently these things happen. In fact, this isn't even the first time it's happened to an Austrian. A few years ago, another child was kept in the basement for, like, eight years, or something. This makes me wonder if that's the only reason so many musicians emerged out of Austria. Were Mahler, Mozart, Strauss, Wagner, etc. all just making music so people couldn't hear the children they had in the basement??
"Wolfgang, what's that sound coming from your home? It sounds frightened."
"Yes, zat is ze flute. Is good, yeah?"
That's the first and last composer joke I'm ever gonna crack, so don't worry about that. I'm also going to skip any and all jokes that Carlos Mencia (something racial about living at home), Adam Corolla (something about the daughter being hot or not), and Average Joe Comedian on Letterman ("I mean, I've heard of living at home, but COME ON!") would make, and move straight to: StuffWhitePeopleLike -- Familial....sorry I can't even do it. I'm not that bad a person.
So let's just move straight to the part where the wife says she had no idea these things were happening. That in HER BASEMENT there was her daughter who disappeared and 7 children that were born. Also, a few of the kids were given up for adoption. These are acceptable statements to make about not knowing something is in your basement:
"Oh, I didn't know we had more ice cream down here in the freezer..."
"Oh, I bet my ice skates are down there..."
"Oh, I didn't know we had Coca Cola cans from 1984 in the house..."
NOT, "Oh, I didn't know my daughter and her children/siblings were downstairs..."
THERE IS NO WAY she didn't know this was going on. I mean, every time she went to get a bottle of wine, or check the furnace, or store some boxes, her husband jumped out of nowhere and went, "That's ok, I'll do it!"? No way. And even if she didn't know from that, what about the abundance of food that had to have gone missing? I notice when one of my yogurt's is missing from the fridge (which doesn't usually mean someone took it, it usually means it got lost behind other food I don't touch until it's way past gross). If all the food in my house disappeared and my spouse didn't suddenly gain 400 lbs, I know there's family in the basement. He must have been the best green tea, metabolism spokesman. Josef Fritzl is the Jared Fogle for the Creepy & Insane.
Now let's say that the wife managed to miss all of these signs-- I think it's fair to assume that Josef is probably a little controlling. What about when THE BABIES STARTED COMING OUT OF THE BASEMENT FOR ADOPTION!? You can't just, "K-Mart had a sale," those away without raising some eyebrows. She had to have known. Not that I'm saying she's in any way horrible like he is, I'm just saying that I don't quite buy it.
Anyway, this is just one more argument in favor of an International Spring Cleaning Day. A simple day off from work to clean the entire home would have taken care of all this business early on.
I'm Gonna Go Throw Up Now,
Witz
If you haven't heard, this shocking article at the BBC News website reports that an Austrian man, who is both 72 years old and possibly Donald Sutherland, caged his 18 year old daughter in the basement, where he kept her for twenty-four years, forcing her to birth seven of his children THAT HE ALSO KEPT IN THE BASEMENT along the way. The children now range in age from five to nineteen. His wife, "appears to be unaware of the alleged crimes."
Where to start, where to start, where to WHAT THE FUCK, DUDE? Let's go beyond the "how could anyone ever possibly do that," aspect because yeah, but apparently these things happen. In fact, this isn't even the first time it's happened to an Austrian. A few years ago, another child was kept in the basement for, like, eight years, or something. This makes me wonder if that's the only reason so many musicians emerged out of Austria. Were Mahler, Mozart, Strauss, Wagner, etc. all just making music so people couldn't hear the children they had in the basement??
"Wolfgang, what's that sound coming from your home? It sounds frightened."
"Yes, zat is ze flute. Is good, yeah?"
That's the first and last composer joke I'm ever gonna crack, so don't worry about that. I'm also going to skip any and all jokes that Carlos Mencia (something racial about living at home), Adam Corolla (something about the daughter being hot or not), and Average Joe Comedian on Letterman ("I mean, I've heard of living at home, but COME ON!") would make, and move straight to: StuffWhitePeopleLike -- Familial....sorry I can't even do it. I'm not that bad a person.
So let's just move straight to the part where the wife says she had no idea these things were happening. That in HER BASEMENT there was her daughter who disappeared and 7 children that were born. Also, a few of the kids were given up for adoption. These are acceptable statements to make about not knowing something is in your basement:
"Oh, I didn't know we had more ice cream down here in the freezer..."
"Oh, I bet my ice skates are down there..."
"Oh, I didn't know we had Coca Cola cans from 1984 in the house..."
NOT, "Oh, I didn't know my daughter and her children/siblings were downstairs..."
THERE IS NO WAY she didn't know this was going on. I mean, every time she went to get a bottle of wine, or check the furnace, or store some boxes, her husband jumped out of nowhere and went, "That's ok, I'll do it!"? No way. And even if she didn't know from that, what about the abundance of food that had to have gone missing? I notice when one of my yogurt's is missing from the fridge (which doesn't usually mean someone took it, it usually means it got lost behind other food I don't touch until it's way past gross). If all the food in my house disappeared and my spouse didn't suddenly gain 400 lbs, I know there's family in the basement. He must have been the best green tea, metabolism spokesman. Josef Fritzl is the Jared Fogle for the Creepy & Insane.
Now let's say that the wife managed to miss all of these signs-- I think it's fair to assume that Josef is probably a little controlling. What about when THE BABIES STARTED COMING OUT OF THE BASEMENT FOR ADOPTION!? You can't just, "K-Mart had a sale," those away without raising some eyebrows. She had to have known. Not that I'm saying she's in any way horrible like he is, I'm just saying that I don't quite buy it.
Anyway, this is just one more argument in favor of an International Spring Cleaning Day. A simple day off from work to clean the entire home would have taken care of all this business early on.
I'm Gonna Go Throw Up Now,
Witz
Friday, April 25, 2008
Witz DOESN'T Pick: Dermatologist Humor
As a man who wasn't big on the sun, and not worried about the quality of his skin, I never felt it was necessary to go to the dermatologist. After my girlfriend pointed out a curious mole that she described by saying, "I think your mole is growing a mole," I decided I might as well book an appointment and make sure that I didn't have the c-word...er-- you know which one I mean. Fortunately for me and my wallet, the whole experience was baffling and horrible and I won't be shelling out the co-pay for future appointments.
I guess the one thing I always assumed about all medical professions, be it a physician, a pediatrist, a dermatologist, a dentist, or a psychiatrist, was that they didn't make fun of you for having any of the things you had. When my small, hobbit-looking dermatologist walked into the room, I felt safe. Then he started in on what I can only describe as a Dermatological Improv Comedy Routine. The conversation went something like this:
"Hi, I'm Dr. Whatever."
"Hi, I'm Witz."
"Would you like to change into a gown or just take off your shirt?"
"I'm fine just taking off my shirt," I say, starting to unbutton it.
"Great-- you didn't look like a guy with any shame left..." He drops casually, like if he said it with the proper tone I wouldn't notice that just made fun of me. It kinda worked.
"Huh?"
"Now it looks like you've got some sun damage on your back there-- but I'm guessing you don't spend much time out in the sun anymore..." Zing! The dude was scoring points off me left and right!
"No, not really."
"Didn't think so."
"What about the mole?"
"Wow, this is interesting! It actually looks like you have two different groupings of cells, one within the other."
"My girlfriend described it as looking like a mole was growing on my mole..."
"Anything to distract her from all that hair, am I right?" Now that's a straight up punchline right there. He had to have been waiting on it.
"I'll lob em up and you slam em down," I say deadpan.
"What about your chest," he says, and I wish I hadn't provoked him.
"I'm fine, no moles there."
"What about this right here?" He asks and examines it intently. He's pointing to my chest like you would if you were playing a "made you look" joke on somebody. I think for a minute that he might be setting me up and if I look down he'll bop me in the nose with his finger, but then I remember he's a doctor and wouldn't go THAT far, right? I reach to see where he's pointing, slightly below my left pectoral muscle. Now, my chest is not rock hard, but it's not a "problem area" for me. I have some muscle and some strength there. But I freeze suddenly, as I realize that all of a sudden, I'm cupping and moving what man-boob I do have in order to see where he's pointing. Still frozen like that, I realize what he's done, and I look up to meet his gaze. With a mischievous smile on his face he tells me,
"I'm wondering if that's a mole, or a remnant of a third nipple..." and he wins. I have been 100% emasculated by this hobbit-man who I looked down upon and trusted (both literally). He waits a second for his ownership to sink in before adding, "Then again, it might just be a mole..." I think I'm off the hook, since I'm clearly his, but he decides he wants a trophy. Whipping out his digital camera, he snaps off a few photos, "just so we can see if it changes in six month," and adds, "Don't worry, I won't put these on the internet." I give him a courtesy chuckle before he continues, "Though I don't know ANYONE who would wanna look at these pictures!"
We both smile, his of victory, mine to show defeat, and he walks out of the office, leaving me shirtless and alone in the sterile waiting room. It's just me and the analscopes, and for a minute, I feel like we must feel similar-- after all, we both have had too many encounters with assholes.
I put on my shirt and I leave. Broken. Confused. No longer safe. I leave.
-Witz-
I guess the one thing I always assumed about all medical professions, be it a physician, a pediatrist, a dermatologist, a dentist, or a psychiatrist, was that they didn't make fun of you for having any of the things you had. When my small, hobbit-looking dermatologist walked into the room, I felt safe. Then he started in on what I can only describe as a Dermatological Improv Comedy Routine. The conversation went something like this:
"Hi, I'm Dr. Whatever."
"Hi, I'm Witz."
"Would you like to change into a gown or just take off your shirt?"
"I'm fine just taking off my shirt," I say, starting to unbutton it.
"Great-- you didn't look like a guy with any shame left..." He drops casually, like if he said it with the proper tone I wouldn't notice that just made fun of me. It kinda worked.
"Huh?"
"Now it looks like you've got some sun damage on your back there-- but I'm guessing you don't spend much time out in the sun anymore..." Zing! The dude was scoring points off me left and right!
"No, not really."
"Didn't think so."
"What about the mole?"
"Wow, this is interesting! It actually looks like you have two different groupings of cells, one within the other."
"My girlfriend described it as looking like a mole was growing on my mole..."
"Anything to distract her from all that hair, am I right?" Now that's a straight up punchline right there. He had to have been waiting on it.
"I'll lob em up and you slam em down," I say deadpan.
"What about your chest," he says, and I wish I hadn't provoked him.
"I'm fine, no moles there."
"What about this right here?" He asks and examines it intently. He's pointing to my chest like you would if you were playing a "made you look" joke on somebody. I think for a minute that he might be setting me up and if I look down he'll bop me in the nose with his finger, but then I remember he's a doctor and wouldn't go THAT far, right? I reach to see where he's pointing, slightly below my left pectoral muscle. Now, my chest is not rock hard, but it's not a "problem area" for me. I have some muscle and some strength there. But I freeze suddenly, as I realize that all of a sudden, I'm cupping and moving what man-boob I do have in order to see where he's pointing. Still frozen like that, I realize what he's done, and I look up to meet his gaze. With a mischievous smile on his face he tells me,
"I'm wondering if that's a mole, or a remnant of a third nipple..." and he wins. I have been 100% emasculated by this hobbit-man who I looked down upon and trusted (both literally). He waits a second for his ownership to sink in before adding, "Then again, it might just be a mole..." I think I'm off the hook, since I'm clearly his, but he decides he wants a trophy. Whipping out his digital camera, he snaps off a few photos, "just so we can see if it changes in six month," and adds, "Don't worry, I won't put these on the internet." I give him a courtesy chuckle before he continues, "Though I don't know ANYONE who would wanna look at these pictures!"
We both smile, his of victory, mine to show defeat, and he walks out of the office, leaving me shirtless and alone in the sterile waiting room. It's just me and the analscopes, and for a minute, I feel like we must feel similar-- after all, we both have had too many encounters with assholes.
I put on my shirt and I leave. Broken. Confused. No longer safe. I leave.
-Witz-
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Witz DOESN'T Pick: My Body Imitating Art
You know how they say sometimes Life imitates Art? Well, recently, that has been very true regarding my body, and it's happening in a number of ways.
Super Villain:
There is a pretty good chance that I'm turning into a super villain, like from X-Men or Superman or Unbreakable (nobody saw that coming). As of fairly recently, I have started growing more and more white/gray hairs. At first, I didn't notice, but then my girlfriend, friends, and co-workers all began to notice. They're primarily on the sides of my head, like two white stripes running down the side. That's definitely a Super Villain pattern.
I mean, on the one hand, this seems like a bad thing (I'd look more ridiculous), but on the other hand, maybe this is the solution to my problems. I mean, instead of wondering or worrying about my career in entertainment, I'd say, "I wonder what I should do now-- oh, super villain, there I go." That would be a lot less stressful. Plus, clearly defined goals would emerge I imagine. Not, "write a blog with tons of random comedic tidbits," but more like, "Kill the Scitrons." The Scitrons are my theoretical enemy that I made up just then on the spot because I don't actually have any clearly defined enemy as I am now, besides possibly my own immune system and the looming threat of grotesque obesity-- but those are less tangible. In my mind, I imagine the Scitrons look quiiiiite a bit like the Neutrinos from the old Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and might even bring up some long dormant copyright infringement issues if people were to see us battling and make action figures out of those involved.
I would also potentially gain some sort of power or, more likely, a technological device, that would be useful in villainry. Right now, the coolest technological device I own is a bottle opener that announces a Red Sox grand slam when I open a bottle. It's cool the first time you use it, but it starts to wear on you by the 4th or 5th time. "How come every time I hit a grand slam, I start to feel fatter and closer to vomiting?" So some sort of ray gun or jumping/flying boots or even a solid pair of UV protection goggles would be nice. Then again, super villains seem to be very busy with the evil and I'm not sure that's for me. On a Friday night, I'd probably wanna flop out and watch Into the Wild or Someone to Eat Cheese With, but instead I'd have to put on my goggles and boots, grab my ray gun and go rob a bank, only to be confronted by those damn Scitrons, and that sounds like a royal pain in my ass.
Harry Caray:
I have dressed up as former Chicago Cubs announcer, Harry Caray, twice in my life, each for a one act play. I sprayed my hair white, rocked some glasses, and did my finest impression. Well, what if now my body is starting to compensate in preparation for anothe performance? My scruff is starting to have gray hairs now, which means a possible all around transition. While I enjoy the idea, I don't have any need to look like Harry Caray on a regular basis. At the same time, whenever I shave with shaving cream, I look at the white mustache and beard in the mirror and think, "When I get old and my hair turns white, I'm gonna grow me a Sam Elliott Mustache like in The Big Lebowski." So maybe that would be possible, albeit, a little early.
MLB 08: The Show -- Center Fielder:
This is the best example of my body imitating art. I bought MLB: 08 The Show for PS3 when it came out because I'm a huge fan of baseball and video game baseball is probably the one game I can say I've consistently played for every system I've owned (going back to the original Hardball for PC when I was like 8-- Harball 5 still might be the best baseball game of all time). This game happens to have a feature called, "Road to the Show" where you make a custom player and start in AA and work your way to the top or to retirement. Yes, it's pretty cool. So, like most of us, when I created a player, I made them look like me, play like me, and have the same attributes as me, you know, assuming that I was capable of playing Major League Baseball. With all these new systems, be it PS3 or Xbox 360 or the Wii, the human construction tools are extremely detailed and specific. This time around, I didn't take too much time, though, and made my character look a lot like me in some ways, but generally not at all like me.
Cut to Monday. I look in the mirror and start to notice that I'm looking a lot more like my baseball player than I did when I made him. My haircut makes my hair look more like him, and my facial hair is longer, but blockier so that I look more similar. In fact, my entire head seems a little more blocky and squished, making me look tremendously like my player! My jawline is even changing as far as I can tell. I'll let you know more after I've hit up the batting cages, but I'm pretttty sure I'm about ready to try out for AA ball or AT LEAST rookie league. If 25 year old MLB 08 Witz can do it (who the announcers call "Wiz" because I selected that nickname thinking it would sound similar-- it doesn't), then certainly Real Life Witz can do it. Right? Or is that the kind of thinking that makes kids shoot each other after playing GTA? Either way, I'm anxious to see how it all turns out.
Pawtucket Red Sox Video Game Center Fielder (Although I Can Sometimes Play 3B),
Witz
Super Villain:
There is a pretty good chance that I'm turning into a super villain, like from X-Men or Superman or Unbreakable (nobody saw that coming). As of fairly recently, I have started growing more and more white/gray hairs. At first, I didn't notice, but then my girlfriend, friends, and co-workers all began to notice. They're primarily on the sides of my head, like two white stripes running down the side. That's definitely a Super Villain pattern.
I mean, on the one hand, this seems like a bad thing (I'd look more ridiculous), but on the other hand, maybe this is the solution to my problems. I mean, instead of wondering or worrying about my career in entertainment, I'd say, "I wonder what I should do now-- oh, super villain, there I go." That would be a lot less stressful. Plus, clearly defined goals would emerge I imagine. Not, "write a blog with tons of random comedic tidbits," but more like, "Kill the Scitrons." The Scitrons are my theoretical enemy that I made up just then on the spot because I don't actually have any clearly defined enemy as I am now, besides possibly my own immune system and the looming threat of grotesque obesity-- but those are less tangible. In my mind, I imagine the Scitrons look quiiiiite a bit like the Neutrinos from the old Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and might even bring up some long dormant copyright infringement issues if people were to see us battling and make action figures out of those involved.
I would also potentially gain some sort of power or, more likely, a technological device, that would be useful in villainry. Right now, the coolest technological device I own is a bottle opener that announces a Red Sox grand slam when I open a bottle. It's cool the first time you use it, but it starts to wear on you by the 4th or 5th time. "How come every time I hit a grand slam, I start to feel fatter and closer to vomiting?" So some sort of ray gun or jumping/flying boots or even a solid pair of UV protection goggles would be nice. Then again, super villains seem to be very busy with the evil and I'm not sure that's for me. On a Friday night, I'd probably wanna flop out and watch Into the Wild or Someone to Eat Cheese With, but instead I'd have to put on my goggles and boots, grab my ray gun and go rob a bank, only to be confronted by those damn Scitrons, and that sounds like a royal pain in my ass.
Harry Caray:
I have dressed up as former Chicago Cubs announcer, Harry Caray, twice in my life, each for a one act play. I sprayed my hair white, rocked some glasses, and did my finest impression. Well, what if now my body is starting to compensate in preparation for anothe performance? My scruff is starting to have gray hairs now, which means a possible all around transition. While I enjoy the idea, I don't have any need to look like Harry Caray on a regular basis. At the same time, whenever I shave with shaving cream, I look at the white mustache and beard in the mirror and think, "When I get old and my hair turns white, I'm gonna grow me a Sam Elliott Mustache like in The Big Lebowski." So maybe that would be possible, albeit, a little early.
MLB 08: The Show -- Center Fielder:
This is the best example of my body imitating art. I bought MLB: 08 The Show for PS3 when it came out because I'm a huge fan of baseball and video game baseball is probably the one game I can say I've consistently played for every system I've owned (going back to the original Hardball for PC when I was like 8-- Harball 5 still might be the best baseball game of all time). This game happens to have a feature called, "Road to the Show" where you make a custom player and start in AA and work your way to the top or to retirement. Yes, it's pretty cool. So, like most of us, when I created a player, I made them look like me, play like me, and have the same attributes as me, you know, assuming that I was capable of playing Major League Baseball. With all these new systems, be it PS3 or Xbox 360 or the Wii, the human construction tools are extremely detailed and specific. This time around, I didn't take too much time, though, and made my character look a lot like me in some ways, but generally not at all like me.
Cut to Monday. I look in the mirror and start to notice that I'm looking a lot more like my baseball player than I did when I made him. My haircut makes my hair look more like him, and my facial hair is longer, but blockier so that I look more similar. In fact, my entire head seems a little more blocky and squished, making me look tremendously like my player! My jawline is even changing as far as I can tell. I'll let you know more after I've hit up the batting cages, but I'm pretttty sure I'm about ready to try out for AA ball or AT LEAST rookie league. If 25 year old MLB 08 Witz can do it (who the announcers call "Wiz" because I selected that nickname thinking it would sound similar-- it doesn't), then certainly Real Life Witz can do it. Right? Or is that the kind of thinking that makes kids shoot each other after playing GTA? Either way, I'm anxious to see how it all turns out.
Pawtucket Red Sox Video Game Center Fielder (Although I Can Sometimes Play 3B),
Witz
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Witz Pickz: Dose Corazones
12 Corazones:
There comes a moment in everyone's life when they find themselves sitting on the couch, tired of flipping channels, watching Telemundo. On the rare occasion, this happens to someone who speaks spanish. Much more often, however, it happens to someone like me, who doesn't speak spanish, and relies primarily on cognates and intonation to piece together the mysterious plot. On Monday night, exhausted and bored, I found myself on Telemundo, trying to figure out what "12 Corazones" was all about-- and thank goodness I did. "12 Corazones (12 hearts-- which I knew because one is a number and the other is the name of a venue in Seattle with a heart logo-- also, it looks like "calzones" and I LOVE me a calzone) is basically Spanish Love Connection. Or Spanish The Dating Game. Only in THIS Love Connection, crraaaaaazzzzyyy shit happens. When I turned it on, a man was answering a question from one of the girls. Everyone seemed pleased, the host appeared to mock him, and then they all sat back down. That is until the host tapped one of the girls on the leg, she grabbed another girl from the lineup and with some excited words from the host, dance music started playing a A POLE APPEARED OUT OF NOWHERE on the dance floor. The girls began dancing with each other and the pole and then two of the three guys came bombing in on the dance floor and started grinding with them-- well not exactly grinding-- it was clear that there was a strip club-like policy of no ACTUAL touching, which made it kind of awkward, but also hilarious. More on this later. So they all grind furiously for about 2 minutes and then the show continues. Unlike American programming, there is no commercial break to ease through the transition-- they just go right on like nothing happened.
Next, more questions are asked (I think), the host mocks some more people (it seemed), and a couple of the uglier people go home for no apparent reason. When they get down to a few women and the same 3 guys, a girl asks a guy if she is his corazon. The chick looks like The Grudge, so he says "No." Aaaand she's off the show. Thanks for playing. This happens again and then it is down to 3 women and 3 men. One of the men is clearly more attractive, limber, dance-tastic, tall, cocky, and lame-- so he's the one they're all giggling over. Another is VERY tiny, like maybe he survives on berries and hair gel. HE plays up the charm, and it appears to be kind of accepted in a "little brother" sort of way. Finally, there's a guy who looks half Indian, half hispanic. He's the worst dancer (he's the one who DIDN'T join in with the pole), the most awkward, and the quietest. He's decently attractive, and I notched him in the #2 spot...which isn't anything like how that just sounded (sure, I could delete that while typing, but the mis-hap is so much more amusing). The time has come. The least attractive girl goes to the tiny, least attractive guy and asks if she is his corazon.
....
....
"Si!" He says, and that's when THEY MAKE OUT ON THE DANCE FLOOR. Like make out make out. Lots of tongue, ass-grabbing, and chest smooshing. Apparently the stripper rules are out the window once someone says that after a few questions and awkward dancing, you rule each other's heart. They go off to the side, happily.
Next, the second most attractive girl goes to ask the #2 guy. She asks him in spanish if she is his corazon. "Yes, you are my corazon," he replies IN ENGLISH! For one brief instant, I thought I had osmotically learned spanish and was translating quickly without thinking. One brief instant later, I realized that wasn't the case as they pecked each other on the cheek shyly and the host rattled off another slew of words I didn't know.
Finally, Cool Guy Corazon stands up while Vastly Superior Looks To Any of Her Competition Corazon Woman looks him over and makes him twirl around. She says that basically, money is what a guy needs to have. Oh yeah-- it's important to note that by this point, I had gotten My Friend Formerly With A Pool on the phone and he was translating for me. So she's into money. Also, he's the last guy. Also, he's the hot/lame guy. They're the #1's.
She asks him if she is his corazon. He remains stoic for a minute and she almost looks concerned before, "SI!" he says and goes for the goods. They start making out like crazy while the host excitedly talks about the end of the show. They are literally on camera for like 2 minutes just going at it until the credits roll and she goes off to buy the morning after pill. Nuts.
Needless to say, I have two episodes taped for me at home today.
Uno Corazon,
Witz
There comes a moment in everyone's life when they find themselves sitting on the couch, tired of flipping channels, watching Telemundo. On the rare occasion, this happens to someone who speaks spanish. Much more often, however, it happens to someone like me, who doesn't speak spanish, and relies primarily on cognates and intonation to piece together the mysterious plot. On Monday night, exhausted and bored, I found myself on Telemundo, trying to figure out what "12 Corazones" was all about-- and thank goodness I did. "12 Corazones (12 hearts-- which I knew because one is a number and the other is the name of a venue in Seattle with a heart logo-- also, it looks like "calzones" and I LOVE me a calzone) is basically Spanish Love Connection. Or Spanish The Dating Game. Only in THIS Love Connection, crraaaaaazzzzyyy shit happens. When I turned it on, a man was answering a question from one of the girls. Everyone seemed pleased, the host appeared to mock him, and then they all sat back down. That is until the host tapped one of the girls on the leg, she grabbed another girl from the lineup and with some excited words from the host, dance music started playing a A POLE APPEARED OUT OF NOWHERE on the dance floor. The girls began dancing with each other and the pole and then two of the three guys came bombing in on the dance floor and started grinding with them-- well not exactly grinding-- it was clear that there was a strip club-like policy of no ACTUAL touching, which made it kind of awkward, but also hilarious. More on this later. So they all grind furiously for about 2 minutes and then the show continues. Unlike American programming, there is no commercial break to ease through the transition-- they just go right on like nothing happened.
Next, more questions are asked (I think), the host mocks some more people (it seemed), and a couple of the uglier people go home for no apparent reason. When they get down to a few women and the same 3 guys, a girl asks a guy if she is his corazon. The chick looks like The Grudge, so he says "No." Aaaand she's off the show. Thanks for playing. This happens again and then it is down to 3 women and 3 men. One of the men is clearly more attractive, limber, dance-tastic, tall, cocky, and lame-- so he's the one they're all giggling over. Another is VERY tiny, like maybe he survives on berries and hair gel. HE plays up the charm, and it appears to be kind of accepted in a "little brother" sort of way. Finally, there's a guy who looks half Indian, half hispanic. He's the worst dancer (he's the one who DIDN'T join in with the pole), the most awkward, and the quietest. He's decently attractive, and I notched him in the #2 spot...which isn't anything like how that just sounded (sure, I could delete that while typing, but the mis-hap is so much more amusing). The time has come. The least attractive girl goes to the tiny, least attractive guy and asks if she is his corazon.
....
....
"Si!" He says, and that's when THEY MAKE OUT ON THE DANCE FLOOR. Like make out make out. Lots of tongue, ass-grabbing, and chest smooshing. Apparently the stripper rules are out the window once someone says that after a few questions and awkward dancing, you rule each other's heart. They go off to the side, happily.
Next, the second most attractive girl goes to ask the #2 guy. She asks him in spanish if she is his corazon. "Yes, you are my corazon," he replies IN ENGLISH! For one brief instant, I thought I had osmotically learned spanish and was translating quickly without thinking. One brief instant later, I realized that wasn't the case as they pecked each other on the cheek shyly and the host rattled off another slew of words I didn't know.
Finally, Cool Guy Corazon stands up while Vastly Superior Looks To Any of Her Competition Corazon Woman looks him over and makes him twirl around. She says that basically, money is what a guy needs to have. Oh yeah-- it's important to note that by this point, I had gotten My Friend Formerly With A Pool on the phone and he was translating for me. So she's into money. Also, he's the last guy. Also, he's the hot/lame guy. They're the #1's.
She asks him if she is his corazon. He remains stoic for a minute and she almost looks concerned before, "SI!" he says and goes for the goods. They start making out like crazy while the host excitedly talks about the end of the show. They are literally on camera for like 2 minutes just going at it until the credits roll and she goes off to buy the morning after pill. Nuts.
Needless to say, I have two episodes taped for me at home today.
Uno Corazon,
Witz
Monday, April 21, 2008
Witz Pickz: The Monday Melange
I used to think that the word "melange" meant, "ruining food by adding cauliflower or peaches to it" i.e. Vegetable Melange or Jell-O Melange. After consulting the online dictionary, however, I found out it just means "a mixture!" So here you go, a Monday Melange:
Nature's Valley Sweet & Salty Nut Granola Bar: I realized I haven't picked food in a while-- ever since I realized I picked a lot of food and it kinda made me sound like a fatty. Luckily, I bought these little faux candy bars and I'm pleased to say they aren't horrible. Packed with almonds, peanuts, granola, sugary, caramel-like icing, and topped with a little saltiness, it's the perfect combination of sweet and salty and kinda does the trick. Especially if you eat five of them. Now let's get to the good part: they're called the SWEET AND SALTY NUT BAR!
"What do you call five post-competition athletes lined up on Valentine's Day?"
"A SWEET AND SALTY NUT BAR!"
Yeah. That just happened. Anyway, this is the second best nut product since I saw Uncle Jesse's Roasted Nuts in a deli in Brooklyn and immediately went home to google, "John Stamos."
Eating Right Cheese Ravioli: On the opposite side of the spectrum is Eating Right's Cheese Ravioli. It's not that they don't taste good, it's that, like the nut bar, the portions are absurd. Never in my life have I thought, "This ravioli is so good I could eat SIX of them!" It's more like, "This ravioli is either good or decent, or mediocre at best, and I could eat FIFTEEN TO THIRTY OF THEM." We're not talkin' jumbo ravioli here-- we're talking regular, perhaps undersized ravioli. When I finished eating my six ravioli (raviolis? Are they like "moose?"), I looked at my plate and seriously thought for the first time in my life, "Maybe I'll drink the sauce." HUNGRY.
Then there was the physical appearance. When I first took the dish out of the microwave, the ravioli looked like it grew up by Chernobyl. Like, it chose the wrong date to time travel back to Nagasaki. Like it advised Robert The Bruce to betray Braveheart. This was mildly decreased by mixing it with the sauce, but it still left an impression on my mind that concerned me. I think ultimately, it comes down to the fact that "Eating Right" really means, "Eating Little." And that's not how I roll. That sounded fat, didn't it?
Babel:
Holy crap! Babel was TERRIBLE! I even went into the movie saying, "Everyone who saw this said it was terrible" and it was STILL TERRIBLE! It wasn't poorly shot, or poorly directed, or poorly acted, or anything like that-- it was simply entirely extraneous. It was like Crash, but without the parts that gave it a point. The previews led me to believe that the themes of the film were language and culture and how there are so many differen languages and cultures and they don't relate or interract or blend together-- how we are a whole mess of people on this planet trying to live together, or something like that. But that wasn't the case at all. Language was certainly present, but it wasn't a problem. In the previews, Brad Pitt was heard shouting, "Doesn't anybody here speak English?!" and in the film, the answer is, "Yes! Most of us do! What can we help you with?" Language is rarely an obstacle. Even the deaf mute girl in Japan has deaf mute friends that she can talk to, and a pad that she can write on which people easily read. She doesn't do a great job of expressing herself and being accepted, but that's not really because of language, and her Mom killed herself, so there's a lot goin' on there. Culturally, the only REAL conflict comes from the Mexican/US border and immigration laws. It shows a lot of people being assholes, but it mostly just shows one example of an underlying social/cultural/political issue. Oh, and maybe don't let your insane and drunken nephew drive you and your white, out-of-country without parents permission children you nanny for, over the border at like 2am. Just a thought.
In the end, I had no idea why the movie needed to made, and while I see how it could have tricked a lot of people into thinking it was a good film, I strongly believe I can back up my argument of it's lack of necessity with a few witty quips and cursory thematic examination.
Forgetting Sarah Marshall:
I couldn't think of anything else to do with a beautiful Saturday afternoon, so the gal and I went to see Forgetting Sarah Marshall. As she said, "I didn't see you laugh for the first 3/4 of the movie and I got worried," but there were some key moments and jokes that hit hard and left me laughing for a while. I'm a big Jason Segel fan from the Freaks & Geeks, Undeclared, and Slackers days, even though I still spell his name either S-E-G-U-L or S-E-G-A-L most of the time. So I was happy to support his efforts. Plus, who can pass up a bit part by Jonah Hill? Or Paul Rudd for that matter? In fact, this movie was packed with television "stars" playing tiny roles that screamed, "I got hooked up by my friend." The creepy looking guy from SNL was in it, Kristen Bell played Sarah Marshall, the girl who I hated, but now don't hate from That 70's Show is in it, along with Russell Brand as her new boyfriend. Kenneth, from 30 Rock, is on his honeymoon. The list goes on...and even includes a Baldwin brother. So while it wasn't the funniest movie out there, it had some saturday afternoon laughs, and I felt good about seeing it. Even with all the penis shots. Of which there were many.
Cauliflower:
Don't like it. Don't wanna like it. Not even sure it's really a food. Why are you so certain it is?
Peaches:
I like peaches by themselves, but people insist on putting them in my cottage cheese, yogurt, and jello. Like, if I had a plate with peaches and a bowl with cottage cheese, yogurt, or jello, some wise ass walking by would stop, take the peach, and drop it into my bowl, as if he just performed a magic trick that would change my life. Awful.
Consider Yourself Melanged,
Witz
Nature's Valley Sweet & Salty Nut Granola Bar: I realized I haven't picked food in a while-- ever since I realized I picked a lot of food and it kinda made me sound like a fatty. Luckily, I bought these little faux candy bars and I'm pleased to say they aren't horrible. Packed with almonds, peanuts, granola, sugary, caramel-like icing, and topped with a little saltiness, it's the perfect combination of sweet and salty and kinda does the trick. Especially if you eat five of them. Now let's get to the good part: they're called the SWEET AND SALTY NUT BAR!
"What do you call five post-competition athletes lined up on Valentine's Day?"
"A SWEET AND SALTY NUT BAR!"
Yeah. That just happened. Anyway, this is the second best nut product since I saw Uncle Jesse's Roasted Nuts in a deli in Brooklyn and immediately went home to google, "John Stamos."
Eating Right Cheese Ravioli: On the opposite side of the spectrum is Eating Right's Cheese Ravioli. It's not that they don't taste good, it's that, like the nut bar, the portions are absurd. Never in my life have I thought, "This ravioli is so good I could eat SIX of them!" It's more like, "This ravioli is either good or decent, or mediocre at best, and I could eat FIFTEEN TO THIRTY OF THEM." We're not talkin' jumbo ravioli here-- we're talking regular, perhaps undersized ravioli. When I finished eating my six ravioli (raviolis? Are they like "moose?"), I looked at my plate and seriously thought for the first time in my life, "Maybe I'll drink the sauce." HUNGRY.
Then there was the physical appearance. When I first took the dish out of the microwave, the ravioli looked like it grew up by Chernobyl. Like, it chose the wrong date to time travel back to Nagasaki. Like it advised Robert The Bruce to betray Braveheart. This was mildly decreased by mixing it with the sauce, but it still left an impression on my mind that concerned me. I think ultimately, it comes down to the fact that "Eating Right" really means, "Eating Little." And that's not how I roll. That sounded fat, didn't it?
Babel:
Holy crap! Babel was TERRIBLE! I even went into the movie saying, "Everyone who saw this said it was terrible" and it was STILL TERRIBLE! It wasn't poorly shot, or poorly directed, or poorly acted, or anything like that-- it was simply entirely extraneous. It was like Crash, but without the parts that gave it a point. The previews led me to believe that the themes of the film were language and culture and how there are so many differen languages and cultures and they don't relate or interract or blend together-- how we are a whole mess of people on this planet trying to live together, or something like that. But that wasn't the case at all. Language was certainly present, but it wasn't a problem. In the previews, Brad Pitt was heard shouting, "Doesn't anybody here speak English?!" and in the film, the answer is, "Yes! Most of us do! What can we help you with?" Language is rarely an obstacle. Even the deaf mute girl in Japan has deaf mute friends that she can talk to, and a pad that she can write on which people easily read. She doesn't do a great job of expressing herself and being accepted, but that's not really because of language, and her Mom killed herself, so there's a lot goin' on there. Culturally, the only REAL conflict comes from the Mexican/US border and immigration laws. It shows a lot of people being assholes, but it mostly just shows one example of an underlying social/cultural/political issue. Oh, and maybe don't let your insane and drunken nephew drive you and your white, out-of-country without parents permission children you nanny for, over the border at like 2am. Just a thought.
In the end, I had no idea why the movie needed to made, and while I see how it could have tricked a lot of people into thinking it was a good film, I strongly believe I can back up my argument of it's lack of necessity with a few witty quips and cursory thematic examination.
Forgetting Sarah Marshall:
I couldn't think of anything else to do with a beautiful Saturday afternoon, so the gal and I went to see Forgetting Sarah Marshall. As she said, "I didn't see you laugh for the first 3/4 of the movie and I got worried," but there were some key moments and jokes that hit hard and left me laughing for a while. I'm a big Jason Segel fan from the Freaks & Geeks, Undeclared, and Slackers days, even though I still spell his name either S-E-G-U-L or S-E-G-A-L most of the time. So I was happy to support his efforts. Plus, who can pass up a bit part by Jonah Hill? Or Paul Rudd for that matter? In fact, this movie was packed with television "stars" playing tiny roles that screamed, "I got hooked up by my friend." The creepy looking guy from SNL was in it, Kristen Bell played Sarah Marshall, the girl who I hated, but now don't hate from That 70's Show is in it, along with Russell Brand as her new boyfriend. Kenneth, from 30 Rock, is on his honeymoon. The list goes on...and even includes a Baldwin brother. So while it wasn't the funniest movie out there, it had some saturday afternoon laughs, and I felt good about seeing it. Even with all the penis shots. Of which there were many.
Cauliflower:
Don't like it. Don't wanna like it. Not even sure it's really a food. Why are you so certain it is?
Peaches:
I like peaches by themselves, but people insist on putting them in my cottage cheese, yogurt, and jello. Like, if I had a plate with peaches and a bowl with cottage cheese, yogurt, or jello, some wise ass walking by would stop, take the peach, and drop it into my bowl, as if he just performed a magic trick that would change my life. Awful.
Consider Yourself Melanged,
Witz
Friday, April 18, 2008
Witz Pickz: The Difference Between Jewish, Christian, and American Holidays
I was thinking the other day what to say to somebody on Passover. I was finishing up an email to someone I don't talk to all that often and I knew I wouldn't talk to again before the High Holiday, so I wanted to throw it in there at the end. Only, I didn't know what to write. For holidays like Christmas or Easter, or a birthday, or the Fourth of July, I feel comfortable writing "Merry," or "Happy," or "Drunken," but it just doesn't seem right for Passover.
My Brooklyn Buddy brought this up completely separately in a conversation today, asking what you say to people on Passover. I still don't know, but I gave him the same answer that I used at the bottom of my email to that friend, "Happy Passover-- way to not get slain..." Obviously, the "Happy" doesn't quite work. I mean, Passover is a holiday celebrating the Jews exodus from Egypt and slavery-- but it's ALSO a holiday where we celebrate the fact that God punished the Pharaoh and PASSED OVER all the Jews' houses, sparing their firstborns. These houses were denoted by having lamb's blood X'd on their door. Here's my joke about that-- "Do you think that when God looked down on Passover, he thought all the Jews were saying, 'HUGS!'"? Thinking about it now, I imagine Passover is not a big holiday amongst lambs, and is probably know as like, "The great lamb holocaust." I bet if you heard a lamb talking they'd said, "Those humans are horrific-- they deny the great lamb holocaust ever happened!"
Back to the firstborns. I realized that Passover is the same as many Jewish holidays. Unlike Christian holidays like Christmas that celebrates the birth of the savior, or Easter, that celebrates the death BUT then return of the savior (aka Zombie Jesus), Judaism tends to celebrate the "Whew-- close call," moments. Passover is really, "Whew-- close call, but we made it out of slavery and our first borns are still intact. Now let's all eat our sheets upon sheets of bland crackers." Think about it. What's Channukah? "Whew-- that oil almost ran out, but then it lasted longer than we first anticipated....Here are some socks." Sukkot is like, "Whew-- nothing horrible has happened in a while. Let's all go on a pilgrimage and then bang in outdoor shacks."
It's an entirely different way of looking at holidays, and while some aspects are certainly positive (the freedom thing, the l'chaim, to life, aspect, victory from extermination (Purim), it always seems to come down to VICTORY FROM FREAKING EXERMINATION! I mean, how cheery can you be about that? Remember when we were almost COMPLETELY WIPED FROM THE EARTH BY OUR ENEMIES? Whew-- good think we've got FIGS. Our national holidays are sometimes based on the same principals, but with that patriotic, go USA twist. All our holidays are "Sure, but" holidays. Like how Martin Luther King Day is, "Sure, one of our own racist citizens shot MLK, Jr., but he made great strides for civil rights!" Or "Sure, the British attacked us and ravaged our countryside and killed Americans of all ages, but WE WON!" Or Columbus Day which is like, "Sure Columbus was apparently a bigotted murdered who DIDN'T actually discover America first, but....he had a cool hat!"
I don't think one way of thinking is any better than the other, but it seemed interesting to note. To you Jews out there, "Whew-- way to not get slain..." to you non-Jews out there, "Happy Weekend," and to you Americans (because WitzPickz IS international according to Google Analytics), "Sure, we have to work five more days next week and the week after and on and on until we are old and arthritic, but we get TWO DAYS OFF!"
Is Zombie Jesus vs. Zombie Average Joe a Fair Fight, Or Does Jesus STILL Have the Edge?,
Witz
My Brooklyn Buddy brought this up completely separately in a conversation today, asking what you say to people on Passover. I still don't know, but I gave him the same answer that I used at the bottom of my email to that friend, "Happy Passover-- way to not get slain..." Obviously, the "Happy" doesn't quite work. I mean, Passover is a holiday celebrating the Jews exodus from Egypt and slavery-- but it's ALSO a holiday where we celebrate the fact that God punished the Pharaoh and PASSED OVER all the Jews' houses, sparing their firstborns. These houses were denoted by having lamb's blood X'd on their door. Here's my joke about that-- "Do you think that when God looked down on Passover, he thought all the Jews were saying, 'HUGS!'"? Thinking about it now, I imagine Passover is not a big holiday amongst lambs, and is probably know as like, "The great lamb holocaust." I bet if you heard a lamb talking they'd said, "Those humans are horrific-- they deny the great lamb holocaust ever happened!"
Back to the firstborns. I realized that Passover is the same as many Jewish holidays. Unlike Christian holidays like Christmas that celebrates the birth of the savior, or Easter, that celebrates the death BUT then return of the savior (aka Zombie Jesus), Judaism tends to celebrate the "Whew-- close call," moments. Passover is really, "Whew-- close call, but we made it out of slavery and our first borns are still intact. Now let's all eat our sheets upon sheets of bland crackers." Think about it. What's Channukah? "Whew-- that oil almost ran out, but then it lasted longer than we first anticipated....Here are some socks." Sukkot is like, "Whew-- nothing horrible has happened in a while. Let's all go on a pilgrimage and then bang in outdoor shacks."
It's an entirely different way of looking at holidays, and while some aspects are certainly positive (the freedom thing, the l'chaim, to life, aspect, victory from extermination (Purim), it always seems to come down to VICTORY FROM FREAKING EXERMINATION! I mean, how cheery can you be about that? Remember when we were almost COMPLETELY WIPED FROM THE EARTH BY OUR ENEMIES? Whew-- good think we've got FIGS. Our national holidays are sometimes based on the same principals, but with that patriotic, go USA twist. All our holidays are "Sure, but" holidays. Like how Martin Luther King Day is, "Sure, one of our own racist citizens shot MLK, Jr., but he made great strides for civil rights!" Or "Sure, the British attacked us and ravaged our countryside and killed Americans of all ages, but WE WON!" Or Columbus Day which is like, "Sure Columbus was apparently a bigotted murdered who DIDN'T actually discover America first, but....he had a cool hat!"
I don't think one way of thinking is any better than the other, but it seemed interesting to note. To you Jews out there, "Whew-- way to not get slain..." to you non-Jews out there, "Happy Weekend," and to you Americans (because WitzPickz IS international according to Google Analytics), "Sure, we have to work five more days next week and the week after and on and on until we are old and arthritic, but we get TWO DAYS OFF!"
Is Zombie Jesus vs. Zombie Average Joe a Fair Fight, Or Does Jesus STILL Have the Edge?,
Witz
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Witz DOESN'T Pick: April Fool's Day
I didn't want to write this on April 1st because you might have thought I was kidding. Now get ready, because this might be the most conservative rant I ever go on.
I cannot believe that we still have April Fool's Day in our country. When we're at war or in conflicts around the world, when we are working 40 hour work weeks, when inflation, the economy, gas prices, scandal, and fraud are rampant. When children are getting stress disorders from trying to get the best grades and go to the best college to get the best jobs. When the media covers Ashlee Simpson's dog more than they cover actual news. When Presidential candidates and made and destroyed by mass media. We STILL have April Fool's Day. Does that make any sense to anyone?
And it wouldn't be a big deal if it was just like, goofy little things here and there. Only I can't really think of a single decent April Fool's joke that isn't stressful or potentially harmful to someone. Maybe it's the fact that I don't think the average person knows what the date is every morning when they wake up. I certainly don't. Fake headlines, fake policies, fake search results, they might be funny if I was like, "April Fool's Day, April Fool's Day, April Fool's Day." But I'm not. I'm like, "What the fuck??? THEY CAN'T DO THAT! THIS ISN'T WHAT I SEARCHED FOR!" until finally somebody mentions that it's April Fool's Day (and not just April 1st, which I still might not catch) and it all makes sense, until I realize that the headlines still aren't jokes.
For as long as I can remember, teachers would pull the fake test gag on 4/1. Come into class, and without a doubt you'd get the, "Ok, everybody ready for the test?" or, "Please turn in your papers," or, "Did everyone like the book last night?" WTF?? Do we really need to put our already overstressed, and sometimes underachieving students through that? I have had heartburn almost 24/7 for the last few weeks (except when I took Prilosec OTC). I know that most of that has to do with watching the Red Sox, losing close soccer games I played in, worrying about having a job, healthcare, housing, etc. BUT some of it has to come from a series of "Oh shit" moments like that. Because sometimes I DID forget the paper, or the reading, or the test, or the book in my locker, or my shoes for soccer practice, or that there was an assembly I needed to dress up for, or that I was supposed to pick someone up that morning or drive home that night. I've forgotten to buy the milk when I went to the store to buy the milk. So nobody needs ANOTHER "Oh Shit" moment courtesy of their teachers on April Fool's Day.
The example that got me this year was google. On the gmail home page, there was a fake feature that said you could now date your emails whatever you wanted. So if you forgot a birthday, you could send an email that said it was sent two days ago, before you forgot. Not remembering that it was 4/1, and not even thinking that GMAIL would try and TRICK ME, I went through a whole little rant in my head about how bullshit that was and how awful our culture is, blah blah blah, until someone said that it was a joke (thankfully before I said anything out loud and looked like a real asshole. That's what they should call it. April Make People Look Like Real Assholes Day). And I know it wasn't a big deal, but we live in a time when people write letters to company's about really insignificant stuff. People get worked up about effective and useful systems or policies. Do we need a day that provides more fodder?
"Dave, you got that big legal report ready, right?"
"WHAT? OH GOD! Am I fired and my family doomed to poverty??"
"Nope, April Fool's!"
"holy crap."
"Lisa, nice tits!"
"What?"
"April Fool's! What an idiot!"
"That's still sexual harassment..."
"Susan, remove the right kidney,"
"I thought it was the left..."
"No, it's the right."
"It is?"
"Nope! April Fool's!"
"I think the patient just bled out."
"The New York Times Reports that America is entering a massive recession and gas prices will continue to rise, global warming will continue to heat the oceans, and the Democratic Party will devour itself allowing McCain to be elected President and appoint judges who will overturn Roe v. Wade!"
"........"
"........"
"......."
...................(like on the Sopranos finale),
Witz
I cannot believe that we still have April Fool's Day in our country. When we're at war or in conflicts around the world, when we are working 40 hour work weeks, when inflation, the economy, gas prices, scandal, and fraud are rampant. When children are getting stress disorders from trying to get the best grades and go to the best college to get the best jobs. When the media covers Ashlee Simpson's dog more than they cover actual news. When Presidential candidates and made and destroyed by mass media. We STILL have April Fool's Day. Does that make any sense to anyone?
And it wouldn't be a big deal if it was just like, goofy little things here and there. Only I can't really think of a single decent April Fool's joke that isn't stressful or potentially harmful to someone. Maybe it's the fact that I don't think the average person knows what the date is every morning when they wake up. I certainly don't. Fake headlines, fake policies, fake search results, they might be funny if I was like, "April Fool's Day, April Fool's Day, April Fool's Day." But I'm not. I'm like, "What the fuck??? THEY CAN'T DO THAT! THIS ISN'T WHAT I SEARCHED FOR!" until finally somebody mentions that it's April Fool's Day (and not just April 1st, which I still might not catch) and it all makes sense, until I realize that the headlines still aren't jokes.
For as long as I can remember, teachers would pull the fake test gag on 4/1. Come into class, and without a doubt you'd get the, "Ok, everybody ready for the test?" or, "Please turn in your papers," or, "Did everyone like the book last night?" WTF?? Do we really need to put our already overstressed, and sometimes underachieving students through that? I have had heartburn almost 24/7 for the last few weeks (except when I took Prilosec OTC). I know that most of that has to do with watching the Red Sox, losing close soccer games I played in, worrying about having a job, healthcare, housing, etc. BUT some of it has to come from a series of "Oh shit" moments like that. Because sometimes I DID forget the paper, or the reading, or the test, or the book in my locker, or my shoes for soccer practice, or that there was an assembly I needed to dress up for, or that I was supposed to pick someone up that morning or drive home that night. I've forgotten to buy the milk when I went to the store to buy the milk. So nobody needs ANOTHER "Oh Shit" moment courtesy of their teachers on April Fool's Day.
The example that got me this year was google. On the gmail home page, there was a fake feature that said you could now date your emails whatever you wanted. So if you forgot a birthday, you could send an email that said it was sent two days ago, before you forgot. Not remembering that it was 4/1, and not even thinking that GMAIL would try and TRICK ME, I went through a whole little rant in my head about how bullshit that was and how awful our culture is, blah blah blah, until someone said that it was a joke (thankfully before I said anything out loud and looked like a real asshole. That's what they should call it. April Make People Look Like Real Assholes Day). And I know it wasn't a big deal, but we live in a time when people write letters to company's about really insignificant stuff. People get worked up about effective and useful systems or policies. Do we need a day that provides more fodder?
"Dave, you got that big legal report ready, right?"
"WHAT? OH GOD! Am I fired and my family doomed to poverty??"
"Nope, April Fool's!"
"holy crap."
"Lisa, nice tits!"
"What?"
"April Fool's! What an idiot!"
"That's still sexual harassment..."
"Susan, remove the right kidney,"
"I thought it was the left..."
"No, it's the right."
"It is?"
"Nope! April Fool's!"
"I think the patient just bled out."
"The New York Times Reports that America is entering a massive recession and gas prices will continue to rise, global warming will continue to heat the oceans, and the Democratic Party will devour itself allowing McCain to be elected President and appoint judges who will overturn Roe v. Wade!"
"........"
"........"
"......."
...................(like on the Sopranos finale),
Witz
Monday, April 07, 2008
Witz Pickz: The Weekly Idiots
This isn't a new feature on the site so much as the doom of our society. In the last week, I've been confronted with multiple instances of idiocy, both equally amusing and horrifying.
Thanks to one of my friends up in Seattle, this article was brought to my attention. Apparently, Yahoo! News did an in depth report and discovered via the polls that race is playing a role in the upcoming election-- but it's not what you'd think-- no, you see thanks to this poll, Yahoo! News reports with their headline, "Race helps Clinton with whites!" Yes, folks, being WHITE is helping Clinton gain WHITE support! I know, I know, let's all take a minute to breath and soak that in and try and understand that this ISN'T an article from The Onion.
Apparently, Yahoo was having a slow news day and pumped out this riveting gem. Here's the statement of the century, "Whites who said race was important in picking their candidate have been about twice as likely to back Sen. Hillary Rodham Clinton as Sen. Barack Obama." SO we're not just talking about whites here-- we're talking about RACISTS. Because what is a racist if not a person of one ethnicity that bases important decisions on race? So the headline ought to read, "Racists more likely to vote for white candidate." ASTOUNDING! "Men more likely to have penises!" "Vomiting deemed unpleasant!" "Homeless people not amped about running marathons!" Then there's this bit of insight: "Whites who say they discounted race also leaned toward Clinton, though by more modest margins," which is like saying, "Racists smart enough not to admit to being racist show signs of racism." Fortunately, that line was overshadowed by the blunt glory of the statement that Obama, "leads overwhelmingly with blacks." I'm not even gonna say anything, I think Yahoo! News beat me to the punch.
There was one paragraph in particular that made me wonder if this was a news article or a report written by a teenager who had already decided upon his thesis before looking at the facts. Like if I tried to write a paper called, "Does fried food make us fatter?" or "Who's Better At Dunking? Whites or Blacks?" In this expert journalism, they use the facts to shed some light on a certain geographic and socio-economic region of our country:
"In the exit polls, whites saying they considered the candidate's race were likelier to be from the South and rural areas, less educated, lower earning and older. That's consistent with voting so far, in which Obama has done better among whites with more education and higher incomes, especially men."
No way, the South is racist? Poor, white people are LESS likely to vote for Obama? It makes me wonder if they even researched this story or if they just had Jimmy the Intern hop on Microsoft Word and pump out some filler. Horrific.
And that one story would have been enough for me for the week, except while flipping channels, I landed momentarily on a game show-- possibly 1 v 100, but I'm not positive. I tuned in as the guy was going for a medium level question and was clearly having some trouble. "In the famous Abbott & Costello bit, 'Who's On First,' which player is at First Base? a) What b) Who c) How?"
..........
.........
........
THE MAN DIDN'T KNOW! Fine. Ok. So maybe one of you are reading and don't know the skit and maybe you, too, are illiterate and stumbled upon the site because when you space out, the dots form the image of a penguin Magic Eye style. Well, this guy didn't know the answer to WHO'S ON FIRST and felt it was necessary to eliminate one of the options. The man used a lifeline. "How" was gonesies. So now this dude is staring at two options to the question WHO'S ON FIRST? a) What or b) Who. He hesitates only momentarily before declaring..."I'd like to poll the group." Yep. He used his other lifeline. He asked the horde or the mass or whatever they're called to see how many people thought it was "Who." Almost more shocking (although maybe there's some strategy in it), only 85% of the group said the answer was "Who." Now, for anyone reading who might be a little slow or feel they are missing something integral to this story, the name of the sketch is WHO'S ON FIRST. WHO is FUCKING on FIRST. There wouldn't be a JOKE if WHO was not on FIRST. If WHO WASN'T on FIRST, the joke would go,
"Who's on first?"
"Nick Johnson."
"Oh, cool, haven't seen him in a while..."
"Yeah, he broke his leg."
"Ouch."
"Yep."
AND THAT'S NOT A JOKE. WHO IS ON FIRST. The man waited a while before finally saying a) Who, and to my utter dismay, he won more money than I make in a year. So who's the idiot, really?
"Who?"
"Yeah."
"Who's the idiot?"
"That's what I'm telling YOU!"
"I am asking YOU, WHO IS THE IDIOT!"
"EXACTLY!"
"WHAT?"
"No, what's the asshole!"
"You don't know what's the asshole??"
"Yes, I do, what's the asshole!"
"You do know or you don't know?"
"I know what's the asshole! He's white and racist, and he's voting for Clinton."
Reggie Willits Is WHITE?,
Witz
Thanks to one of my friends up in Seattle, this article was brought to my attention. Apparently, Yahoo! News did an in depth report and discovered via the polls that race is playing a role in the upcoming election-- but it's not what you'd think-- no, you see thanks to this poll, Yahoo! News reports with their headline, "Race helps Clinton with whites!" Yes, folks, being WHITE is helping Clinton gain WHITE support! I know, I know, let's all take a minute to breath and soak that in and try and understand that this ISN'T an article from The Onion.
Apparently, Yahoo was having a slow news day and pumped out this riveting gem. Here's the statement of the century, "Whites who said race was important in picking their candidate have been about twice as likely to back Sen. Hillary Rodham Clinton as Sen. Barack Obama." SO we're not just talking about whites here-- we're talking about RACISTS. Because what is a racist if not a person of one ethnicity that bases important decisions on race? So the headline ought to read, "Racists more likely to vote for white candidate." ASTOUNDING! "Men more likely to have penises!" "Vomiting deemed unpleasant!" "Homeless people not amped about running marathons!" Then there's this bit of insight: "Whites who say they discounted race also leaned toward Clinton, though by more modest margins," which is like saying, "Racists smart enough not to admit to being racist show signs of racism." Fortunately, that line was overshadowed by the blunt glory of the statement that Obama, "leads overwhelmingly with blacks." I'm not even gonna say anything, I think Yahoo! News beat me to the punch.
There was one paragraph in particular that made me wonder if this was a news article or a report written by a teenager who had already decided upon his thesis before looking at the facts. Like if I tried to write a paper called, "Does fried food make us fatter?" or "Who's Better At Dunking? Whites or Blacks?" In this expert journalism, they use the facts to shed some light on a certain geographic and socio-economic region of our country:
"In the exit polls, whites saying they considered the candidate's race were likelier to be from the South and rural areas, less educated, lower earning and older. That's consistent with voting so far, in which Obama has done better among whites with more education and higher incomes, especially men."
No way, the South is racist? Poor, white people are LESS likely to vote for Obama? It makes me wonder if they even researched this story or if they just had Jimmy the Intern hop on Microsoft Word and pump out some filler. Horrific.
And that one story would have been enough for me for the week, except while flipping channels, I landed momentarily on a game show-- possibly 1 v 100, but I'm not positive. I tuned in as the guy was going for a medium level question and was clearly having some trouble. "In the famous Abbott & Costello bit, 'Who's On First,' which player is at First Base? a) What b) Who c) How?"
..........
.........
........
THE MAN DIDN'T KNOW! Fine. Ok. So maybe one of you are reading and don't know the skit and maybe you, too, are illiterate and stumbled upon the site because when you space out, the dots form the image of a penguin Magic Eye style. Well, this guy didn't know the answer to WHO'S ON FIRST and felt it was necessary to eliminate one of the options. The man used a lifeline. "How" was gonesies. So now this dude is staring at two options to the question WHO'S ON FIRST? a) What or b) Who. He hesitates only momentarily before declaring..."I'd like to poll the group." Yep. He used his other lifeline. He asked the horde or the mass or whatever they're called to see how many people thought it was "Who." Almost more shocking (although maybe there's some strategy in it), only 85% of the group said the answer was "Who." Now, for anyone reading who might be a little slow or feel they are missing something integral to this story, the name of the sketch is WHO'S ON FIRST. WHO is FUCKING on FIRST. There wouldn't be a JOKE if WHO was not on FIRST. If WHO WASN'T on FIRST, the joke would go,
"Who's on first?"
"Nick Johnson."
"Oh, cool, haven't seen him in a while..."
"Yeah, he broke his leg."
"Ouch."
"Yep."
AND THAT'S NOT A JOKE. WHO IS ON FIRST. The man waited a while before finally saying a) Who, and to my utter dismay, he won more money than I make in a year. So who's the idiot, really?
"Who?"
"Yeah."
"Who's the idiot?"
"That's what I'm telling YOU!"
"I am asking YOU, WHO IS THE IDIOT!"
"EXACTLY!"
"WHAT?"
"No, what's the asshole!"
"You don't know what's the asshole??"
"Yes, I do, what's the asshole!"
"You do know or you don't know?"
"I know what's the asshole! He's white and racist, and he's voting for Clinton."
Reggie Willits Is WHITE?,
Witz
Witz Pickz: Netflix Hilarity, Being Financially Responsible
I'm kickin' the week off with the buffet o' pickz:
Netflix Hilarity:
Every half year or so, I get really into the idea of skateboarding. I never had the chance to learn as a kid, and I got scared after I saw my older neighbor completely destroy himself going down a hill. Nowadays, I wish I'd had a cool older brother who taught me to skate. That way, I wouldn't have gotten so into skating culture when I was far too old to actually start skating. I listen to punk (starting in mid-high school), I wear skate shoes (because I have flat feet and they are wide), and I own both Skate (for PS3) and Tony Hawk 3 (for xbox). All I really wanna do is learn to Ollie so I'm not deemed a complete poser by the 13 year olds I pass on the street.
For this reason, I searched "skateboarding" on Netflix (proooobably the least cool thing a skater could do...) and came up with this movie. I started to read the summary and laughed-- it was amazing. Check it out:
"The Skateboard Kid: Queue up this gem for a healthy dose of family values. Zack Tyler (Trevor Lissauer) is the new kid on the block with no friends and no joy in his life. The local kids are skateboarding freaks, so Zack finds a used skateboard for a good price and tries to join in the fun -- only to be rebuffed by the tight-knit gang. But Zack's luck suddenly changes when he discovers the board has magical powers!"
Who does Netflix have working for them? It sounds like a book report written by a sixth grader with some repressed anger at his job. I mean, listen to how it starts: "Queue up this gem..." How sarcastic does that sound considering it's The Skateboard Kid?? Since I was an english major, we'll go through this like a poem, line by line. "He's the new kid on the block with no friends and no joy in his life." Whoah! "No joy in his life?" That is HARSH! How old could this child possibly be? Doesn't he at least enjoy SOMETHING? Food? Video games? Does he have a pet? I'm already worried this child is going to commit suicide-- maybe The Skateboard Kid has some high stakes after all. This next part is when, like a sixth grade book report, they throw in all sorts of specific, unusual details and slang. The neighborhood kids are skateboarding "freaks," but don't you worry, because Zack gets himself a skateboard..."for a good price." PHEW! As I was reading this summary, I was immediately put off by the fact that Zack might have paid too much for his skateboard! See how that's a bit specific? Or maybe it's there to make us feel less bad for Zack when we learn that his efforts were rebuffed by the group. No matter what, though, I'm hooked by the last line-- "But Zack's luck suddenly changes when he discovers the board has magical powers!" BOSP! Out of nowhere, this seemingly simple, realistic skateboarding tale turns into a skateboarding ADVENTURE. Nevermind the fact that the skaters either only like Zack for his magical skateboard OR that the skateboard's magic is to make friends with skateboarding freaks, Zack's luck changes. Now, I assume that this means "for the better" and not "leading him to a horrible and far more tragic life of early on-set baldness or men's restrooms:"
"What's the skateboards magic powers?"
"Well--"
"Can you fly?"
"Nope..."
"Can you go really fast?"
"Nay."
"Can you skate better?"
"Nuh-uh..."
"Then what's the power?"
"...No gag reflex."
It's ok to laugh at that-- it's only hypothetical. Anyway, I'm gonna put The Skateboard Kid in my queue and then probably be baffled when it finally arrives in 6 months.
Being Financially Responsible -- The Sharper Image Edition:
I don't really know how I ended up on The Sharper Image's email list, though I suspect it has something to do with a golf-themed gift for my Grandma at some point in the past. Regardless, I received an email from them the other day that struck me as odd. The title of the email was, "The Sharper Image Online -- Take 90 Days To Pay -- Apply Now!" Now, while I don't shop at The Sharper Image at any point other than two days before Christmas, I can understand buying something there very occasionally, like a camping tool or bottle opener. But, reading that email, I was struck with a truism. If I EVER need 90 days to pay for anything at THE SHARPER IMAGE, I should not be purchasing it. "Gee, should I really buy this $300 dollar boxing robots game? I mean, I don't have the money NOW, but I think within 90 days I should be able to--" Stop there. The answer is no. "Oh man, I really am digging this pillow slash neck massager slash alarm clock, but I have rent and all these student loans to pay off. Well, but by July I should be able to--" NO! Not the case-- let the dream go. I will give The Sharper Image another shot in December. In the meantime, I will continue to look at The Sharper Image's email catalogue and gawk in bewilderment at how they manage to stay in business the other 11 months of the year.
Human Slash Back Massager Slash Alarm Clock,
Witz
Netflix Hilarity:
Every half year or so, I get really into the idea of skateboarding. I never had the chance to learn as a kid, and I got scared after I saw my older neighbor completely destroy himself going down a hill. Nowadays, I wish I'd had a cool older brother who taught me to skate. That way, I wouldn't have gotten so into skating culture when I was far too old to actually start skating. I listen to punk (starting in mid-high school), I wear skate shoes (because I have flat feet and they are wide), and I own both Skate (for PS3) and Tony Hawk 3 (for xbox). All I really wanna do is learn to Ollie so I'm not deemed a complete poser by the 13 year olds I pass on the street.
For this reason, I searched "skateboarding" on Netflix (proooobably the least cool thing a skater could do...) and came up with this movie. I started to read the summary and laughed-- it was amazing. Check it out:
"The Skateboard Kid: Queue up this gem for a healthy dose of family values. Zack Tyler (Trevor Lissauer) is the new kid on the block with no friends and no joy in his life. The local kids are skateboarding freaks, so Zack finds a used skateboard for a good price and tries to join in the fun -- only to be rebuffed by the tight-knit gang. But Zack's luck suddenly changes when he discovers the board has magical powers!"
Who does Netflix have working for them? It sounds like a book report written by a sixth grader with some repressed anger at his job. I mean, listen to how it starts: "Queue up this gem..." How sarcastic does that sound considering it's The Skateboard Kid?? Since I was an english major, we'll go through this like a poem, line by line. "He's the new kid on the block with no friends and no joy in his life." Whoah! "No joy in his life?" That is HARSH! How old could this child possibly be? Doesn't he at least enjoy SOMETHING? Food? Video games? Does he have a pet? I'm already worried this child is going to commit suicide-- maybe The Skateboard Kid has some high stakes after all. This next part is when, like a sixth grade book report, they throw in all sorts of specific, unusual details and slang. The neighborhood kids are skateboarding "freaks," but don't you worry, because Zack gets himself a skateboard..."for a good price." PHEW! As I was reading this summary, I was immediately put off by the fact that Zack might have paid too much for his skateboard! See how that's a bit specific? Or maybe it's there to make us feel less bad for Zack when we learn that his efforts were rebuffed by the group. No matter what, though, I'm hooked by the last line-- "But Zack's luck suddenly changes when he discovers the board has magical powers!" BOSP! Out of nowhere, this seemingly simple, realistic skateboarding tale turns into a skateboarding ADVENTURE. Nevermind the fact that the skaters either only like Zack for his magical skateboard OR that the skateboard's magic is to make friends with skateboarding freaks, Zack's luck changes. Now, I assume that this means "for the better" and not "leading him to a horrible and far more tragic life of early on-set baldness or men's restrooms:"
"What's the skateboards magic powers?"
"Well--"
"Can you fly?"
"Nope..."
"Can you go really fast?"
"Nay."
"Can you skate better?"
"Nuh-uh..."
"Then what's the power?"
"...No gag reflex."
It's ok to laugh at that-- it's only hypothetical. Anyway, I'm gonna put The Skateboard Kid in my queue and then probably be baffled when it finally arrives in 6 months.
Being Financially Responsible -- The Sharper Image Edition:
I don't really know how I ended up on The Sharper Image's email list, though I suspect it has something to do with a golf-themed gift for my Grandma at some point in the past. Regardless, I received an email from them the other day that struck me as odd. The title of the email was, "The Sharper Image Online -- Take 90 Days To Pay -- Apply Now!" Now, while I don't shop at The Sharper Image at any point other than two days before Christmas, I can understand buying something there very occasionally, like a camping tool or bottle opener. But, reading that email, I was struck with a truism. If I EVER need 90 days to pay for anything at THE SHARPER IMAGE, I should not be purchasing it. "Gee, should I really buy this $300 dollar boxing robots game? I mean, I don't have the money NOW, but I think within 90 days I should be able to--" Stop there. The answer is no. "Oh man, I really am digging this pillow slash neck massager slash alarm clock, but I have rent and all these student loans to pay off. Well, but by July I should be able to--" NO! Not the case-- let the dream go. I will give The Sharper Image another shot in December. In the meantime, I will continue to look at The Sharper Image's email catalogue and gawk in bewilderment at how they manage to stay in business the other 11 months of the year.
Human Slash Back Massager Slash Alarm Clock,
Witz
Friday, April 04, 2008
Witz Pickz: An Addendum to the Ruining Homelessness Post
So I'm a little surprised I forgot to include this little tale in my post yesterday, but I remembered it this morning and decided that although it might result in someone getting mad at me, I can't rob you all of this little gem. Here we go:
A year or two ago, while working in Seattle, a woman I knew came up to me at work and quickly assaulted me with,
"Did you hear what Mr. Your Girlfriend's Dad said in the paper?!" She was clearly incensed (meaning angry, not smelling of incense).
"No," I replied, wondering what she could be so upset about from a liberal town councilman who I can't imagine ever doing a bad thing in his life.
"He said that people shouldn't give money to homeless people!" She declared, folding her arms in victory. Confused, I tried to work the neutral space.
"Well, did he mean it like that, I mean, maybe there was more to the conversation...that sounds like an odd thing for him to say..."
"That was the quote in the paper! That's what he said!" Later on, I would find out that what he had ACTUALLY said was that giving homeless people money on the street is not going to bring about any solutions. Instead of giving money to homeless people, we should invest in programs and support systems to provide a lasting solution and not a temporary fix-- sometimes literally. But she wasn't having any of it. "I mean how can he say that!" Now wait for it....wait for it.... "The father of my children is homeless!!"
BOOOOOM! KAPOW!!!!! ZAAAAAAM!!!!
Excuse me??? What? The father of your your children is a homeless person?? You can't base your argument on the fact that your babies' Daddy is homeless and that is why you are so upset about Mr. My Girlfriend's Dad's comments! What about the fact that THE MAN IS HOMELESS and you know this-- was it really alright as long as you knew that people would very infrequently provide him with their change and or Trader Joe's products (Yeah, I gave a homeless dude a Java Black Tea once-- he was pumped)?
Additionally, how was I supposed to react to that in conversation? I knew very little about this woman and suddenly she drops that bomb on me. Did he become homeless, like, later on, after a divorce or did she have sexual relations on multiple occasions with the same homeless man, birthing a family of children along the way? I'm gonna need some documentation before I say anything in response to that little doozy. Maybe a photo journal set to music. "The father of my children is homeless,"....my goodness.
Consider yourself addendumed.
"If You Are Flammable and Have Legs, You Are Never Blocking A Fire Exit" i.e. "If You Care About A Homeless Person and Have A Home Yourself, You Don't Need to Have A Homeless Person You Care About,"
Witz
A year or two ago, while working in Seattle, a woman I knew came up to me at work and quickly assaulted me with,
"Did you hear what Mr. Your Girlfriend's Dad said in the paper?!" She was clearly incensed (meaning angry, not smelling of incense).
"No," I replied, wondering what she could be so upset about from a liberal town councilman who I can't imagine ever doing a bad thing in his life.
"He said that people shouldn't give money to homeless people!" She declared, folding her arms in victory. Confused, I tried to work the neutral space.
"Well, did he mean it like that, I mean, maybe there was more to the conversation...that sounds like an odd thing for him to say..."
"That was the quote in the paper! That's what he said!" Later on, I would find out that what he had ACTUALLY said was that giving homeless people money on the street is not going to bring about any solutions. Instead of giving money to homeless people, we should invest in programs and support systems to provide a lasting solution and not a temporary fix-- sometimes literally. But she wasn't having any of it. "I mean how can he say that!" Now wait for it....wait for it.... "The father of my children is homeless!!"
BOOOOOM! KAPOW!!!!! ZAAAAAAM!!!!
Excuse me??? What? The father of your your children is a homeless person?? You can't base your argument on the fact that your babies' Daddy is homeless and that is why you are so upset about Mr. My Girlfriend's Dad's comments! What about the fact that THE MAN IS HOMELESS and you know this-- was it really alright as long as you knew that people would very infrequently provide him with their change and or Trader Joe's products (Yeah, I gave a homeless dude a Java Black Tea once-- he was pumped)?
Additionally, how was I supposed to react to that in conversation? I knew very little about this woman and suddenly she drops that bomb on me. Did he become homeless, like, later on, after a divorce or did she have sexual relations on multiple occasions with the same homeless man, birthing a family of children along the way? I'm gonna need some documentation before I say anything in response to that little doozy. Maybe a photo journal set to music. "The father of my children is homeless,"....my goodness.
Consider yourself addendumed.
"If You Are Flammable and Have Legs, You Are Never Blocking A Fire Exit" i.e. "If You Care About A Homeless Person and Have A Home Yourself, You Don't Need to Have A Homeless Person You Care About,"
Witz
Thursday, April 03, 2008
Witz DOESN'T Pick: Ruining Homelessness
Today, I have a sweet new "Ripped from the headlines" edition of Witz Pickz. If it works for Law & Order (L&O) then it will certainly work for me.
I was browsing cnn.com when I came upon this article. Apparently, in Philadelphia, a marathon runner, while training, would run by hundreds of homeless people everyday at her 5:00am run. Allegedly, they would cheer her on as she ran by...because I think that's been all of our experience with the homeless-- they cheer for us while we work to improve ourselves. After a while, like all people who think they know what's best for everyone, she stopped and thought, "Why am I running past these guys? I'm moving my life forward every day -- and these guys are standing in the same spot." Now, everyone I've ever known who ran seriously has frightened me with the possibility of making me run with them. They always want to make other people understand the joys of running. Usually, though, this means friends, family, acquaintances, but in this special instance, this woman decided that she wanted to make the homeless run with her. She contacted the shelter, got donations of running gear, and started the "Back On Your Feet" program.
The "Back On Your Feet" program is meant to get people staying at shelters to stay sober and start running. The double entendre is pleasant enough, but to me, the program should be called, "Ruining Homelessness." They have to wake up at 5am to go for a run from 5:30-6am together. Fortunately, nobody has better nutrition and energy supplies than homeless people, so there are no health concerns and surely the spent energy won't make them hungrier throughout the day.
Apparently, other people run with them as well, leading to this quote: "All you can tell is who's the fastest," says Mahlum. "You can't tell who's homeless and who's not." I have a couple qualms here. First, YOU CAN'T TELL WHO'S HOMELESS AND WHO'S NOT?? I'm hoping strictly for the non-homeless that you might be able to make some slight distinction. Because if this lady is really talking about the street homeless and not like, the Upper-Middle Class Homeless, there are some pretty straightforward signs. If the guy jogging next to you has a monster beard, a vacant expression, and his t-shirt has, "I'd Rather Be Begging" written on it, you're running next to a homeless guy. My other problem is that probably one of the worst things that could happen to me in my life would be to run slower than a homeless person. No offense at all the the homeless, but if I can't manage to maintain speed and distance versus someone who is underfed, has a tough sleep location, and moves around very little, then I've lost.
But more than all that, the best parts of being homeless are the sleeping whenever and the lack of responsibility. "Back On Your Feet" takes those from them and instead makes everybody do what she wants-- run. You know who else had a program like this? Andrew Jackson. What if The Trail of Tears had been marketed as, "Back On Your Feet For A Long While"? Exactly.
"Kenya: Running 26.2 Miles From Their Problems" (Onion Headline),
Witz
I was browsing cnn.com when I came upon this article. Apparently, in Philadelphia, a marathon runner, while training, would run by hundreds of homeless people everyday at her 5:00am run. Allegedly, they would cheer her on as she ran by...because I think that's been all of our experience with the homeless-- they cheer for us while we work to improve ourselves. After a while, like all people who think they know what's best for everyone, she stopped and thought, "Why am I running past these guys? I'm moving my life forward every day -- and these guys are standing in the same spot." Now, everyone I've ever known who ran seriously has frightened me with the possibility of making me run with them. They always want to make other people understand the joys of running. Usually, though, this means friends, family, acquaintances, but in this special instance, this woman decided that she wanted to make the homeless run with her. She contacted the shelter, got donations of running gear, and started the "Back On Your Feet" program.
The "Back On Your Feet" program is meant to get people staying at shelters to stay sober and start running. The double entendre is pleasant enough, but to me, the program should be called, "Ruining Homelessness." They have to wake up at 5am to go for a run from 5:30-6am together. Fortunately, nobody has better nutrition and energy supplies than homeless people, so there are no health concerns and surely the spent energy won't make them hungrier throughout the day.
Apparently, other people run with them as well, leading to this quote: "All you can tell is who's the fastest," says Mahlum. "You can't tell who's homeless and who's not." I have a couple qualms here. First, YOU CAN'T TELL WHO'S HOMELESS AND WHO'S NOT?? I'm hoping strictly for the non-homeless that you might be able to make some slight distinction. Because if this lady is really talking about the street homeless and not like, the Upper-Middle Class Homeless, there are some pretty straightforward signs. If the guy jogging next to you has a monster beard, a vacant expression, and his t-shirt has, "I'd Rather Be Begging" written on it, you're running next to a homeless guy. My other problem is that probably one of the worst things that could happen to me in my life would be to run slower than a homeless person. No offense at all the the homeless, but if I can't manage to maintain speed and distance versus someone who is underfed, has a tough sleep location, and moves around very little, then I've lost.
But more than all that, the best parts of being homeless are the sleeping whenever and the lack of responsibility. "Back On Your Feet" takes those from them and instead makes everybody do what she wants-- run. You know who else had a program like this? Andrew Jackson. What if The Trail of Tears had been marketed as, "Back On Your Feet For A Long While"? Exactly.
"Kenya: Running 26.2 Miles From Their Problems" (Onion Headline),
Witz
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
Witz DOESN'T Pick: McAfee Stadium, Crappy DJ Overstatement
As scattered as I've been lately, I've decided to keep it up in the posts for today...
The Oakland Athletics-- 100% Baseball:
Last night I went to McAfee Stadium AKA the Oakland Coliseum to see the Oakland A's take on the Boston Red Sox. I had been previously warned by a friend from Fremont that Oakland fans are not the nicest of fans and that they are especially aggressive to fans of other teams that visit. Well, I always take that kind of warning with a grain of salt, because I know that there are a huge number of fans of all teams and that one bad experience tends to make people generalize to all fans. When I went to LA for the ALDS last year, one Angel fan screamed at us for "Only hitting home runs," another berrated a ton of Red Sox fans for...well, everything...and one girl threw a beer at another guy and ultimately accidentally gave up the Down Low, so to speak, to everyone within eye shot (everyone was more traumatized than psyched). But do I think that ALL Angels fans are assholes? Yeah, kinda-- with their thumping sticks and their big "Make Noise" digital board telling people when to cheer. Hm.
The point is, I don't judge fans by anecdotes. Last night, however, my friend Big Ho encountered an anecdote all his own. While wandering the various stands and checking out the park during the middle innings, he was suddenly assaulted with the classic, "Go home motherfucker!" along with, "Get out of here, Boston!" He turned to the two guys shouting at him and calmly replied, "Wow, that seems a little aggressive...I'm just trying to enjoy the game," to which he met the brilliant response, "We don't play baseball here!" "But," Big Ho replied quickly and with confusion, "Your slogan is one-hundred PERCENT baseball!" he defended, pointing up at the giant sign overlooking the ballpark which proudly declared, "Oakland Athletics: 100% Baseball." Defeated, the aggressors recoiled and Big Ho continued his journey around the park.
As for the park itself, I can only say that it was aptly named McAfee Stadium. The park looks like the physical incarnation of virus software. Concrete, no character, but simply cold, hard fortress. The seats all appeared to have a great view, but otherwise, the park looked to be more suited to defend from an assault, than to provide a comfortable, aesthetic baseball experience. 1/3 of the vendor level even seemed to be lacking vendors, and turned into a long alley-like corridor of concrete and sketchy bathrooms. Walking around, we all felt like we suddenly crossed the tracks and weren't in the ballpark anymore. McAfee would be proud. Norton would be jealous. Kaspersky...is probably drinking alone and planning his attack.
Radio DJ Overstatement:
On the radio this morning I heard a DJ say that Marvin Gaye would be 69 today if he hadn't died yesterday. I'm sorry to say that I'm indifferent to his passing, but was moved emotionally when the DJ went ahead to say that the fact that Marvin Gaye died 1 day before his birthday was, "Crazy and insane!" The emotion I felt was annoyance and that fun little swelling of unnecessary rage at the world that we all feel (right?). I've heard things that are crazy and insane. A guy once told me that, "My grandma danced with bullfrogs!" and I smiled politely, wondering if there was symbolism I was missing. Crazy and insane coincidence is when the hotel elevator doors open in JAPAN and someone from your small liberal arts college in Maine is standing there looking back at you. Crazy and insane is global warming, the current US economy, 8 years of G.W.Bush, cell phone plans, the JFK Assassination, and the fact that Tyler Perry is still putting out movies. Not that a person died one day before he would have been older than he was the day before.
Keep Checkin' Back For More and Tell Your Friends,
Witz
The Oakland Athletics-- 100% Baseball:
Last night I went to McAfee Stadium AKA the Oakland Coliseum to see the Oakland A's take on the Boston Red Sox. I had been previously warned by a friend from Fremont that Oakland fans are not the nicest of fans and that they are especially aggressive to fans of other teams that visit. Well, I always take that kind of warning with a grain of salt, because I know that there are a huge number of fans of all teams and that one bad experience tends to make people generalize to all fans. When I went to LA for the ALDS last year, one Angel fan screamed at us for "Only hitting home runs," another berrated a ton of Red Sox fans for...well, everything...and one girl threw a beer at another guy and ultimately accidentally gave up the Down Low, so to speak, to everyone within eye shot (everyone was more traumatized than psyched). But do I think that ALL Angels fans are assholes? Yeah, kinda-- with their thumping sticks and their big "Make Noise" digital board telling people when to cheer. Hm.
The point is, I don't judge fans by anecdotes. Last night, however, my friend Big Ho encountered an anecdote all his own. While wandering the various stands and checking out the park during the middle innings, he was suddenly assaulted with the classic, "Go home motherfucker!" along with, "Get out of here, Boston!" He turned to the two guys shouting at him and calmly replied, "Wow, that seems a little aggressive...I'm just trying to enjoy the game," to which he met the brilliant response, "We don't play baseball here!" "But," Big Ho replied quickly and with confusion, "Your slogan is one-hundred PERCENT baseball!" he defended, pointing up at the giant sign overlooking the ballpark which proudly declared, "Oakland Athletics: 100% Baseball." Defeated, the aggressors recoiled and Big Ho continued his journey around the park.
As for the park itself, I can only say that it was aptly named McAfee Stadium. The park looks like the physical incarnation of virus software. Concrete, no character, but simply cold, hard fortress. The seats all appeared to have a great view, but otherwise, the park looked to be more suited to defend from an assault, than to provide a comfortable, aesthetic baseball experience. 1/3 of the vendor level even seemed to be lacking vendors, and turned into a long alley-like corridor of concrete and sketchy bathrooms. Walking around, we all felt like we suddenly crossed the tracks and weren't in the ballpark anymore. McAfee would be proud. Norton would be jealous. Kaspersky...is probably drinking alone and planning his attack.
Radio DJ Overstatement:
On the radio this morning I heard a DJ say that Marvin Gaye would be 69 today if he hadn't died yesterday. I'm sorry to say that I'm indifferent to his passing, but was moved emotionally when the DJ went ahead to say that the fact that Marvin Gaye died 1 day before his birthday was, "Crazy and insane!" The emotion I felt was annoyance and that fun little swelling of unnecessary rage at the world that we all feel (right?). I've heard things that are crazy and insane. A guy once told me that, "My grandma danced with bullfrogs!" and I smiled politely, wondering if there was symbolism I was missing. Crazy and insane coincidence is when the hotel elevator doors open in JAPAN and someone from your small liberal arts college in Maine is standing there looking back at you. Crazy and insane is global warming, the current US economy, 8 years of G.W.Bush, cell phone plans, the JFK Assassination, and the fact that Tyler Perry is still putting out movies. Not that a person died one day before he would have been older than he was the day before.
Keep Checkin' Back For More and Tell Your Friends,
Witz
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