Sunday, July 23, 2006

See, I told you it’d be less than a year before I updated this thing again. And, unlike Adam’s mini-post, I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that this is a real, 100%, full-fledged update. Hell, an update and a half, even. “What’s the half?” you ask? You’ll just have to wait and see.

So I had this great revelation today on the highway. I saw, in the distance, this huge gigantic truck that probably feasts on babies when the moon is full, and it was towing what appeared to be an iron lung (if the iron lung were blown up to three or four times its size). Turns out this thing was supposed to be an RV of sorts, but, from a distance, it looked very much like an iron lung. Anyway, as I approached, I spotted one of those marks of the devil, a “W ‘04” sticker on the back of the RV. And then a “W for President” sticker on said freakishly large truck. Then, as I got even closer, I had to take a look and see who my new best friend was: an octogenarian hunched over the steering wheel, wearing thick glasses. And that’s when it hit me. I suddenly understood why senior citizens and Bush tend to go together hand in hand. (Disclaimer: Yes, I have met 60+ year olds who do not like Bush. But, if one were to make a broad, sweeping generalization [which we do very well here], then one would conclude that the elderly tend to side with Bush. There.) The reason? These old folks are all too aware of their own mortality. They’ve spent a wonderful 70 (or so) years on this planet. They’ve been through wars, they’ve seen voyages into space. They’ve (somewhat) integrated themselves into a world with booming new technology (Alaskan Senator Ted Stevens is still working on it. He’ll get it soon enough -- once the tubes to his computer clear up). But yet, science and technology cannot reverse the fact that they will one day (fairly soon) die. And they are bitter about this fact – rightly so. But, rather than find solace in living a life that, by most accounts, is well spent, they want to take everyone down with them. So with every natural disaster that goes unmediated, with every Bush mandate that defies the imperative of global warming, with every human rights violation that occurs under our watch, these senior citizens get more and more giddy. Because they know, deep down inside, that, soon enough, we’ll all be joining them. And that’s why they like Bush. They don’t like Bush because he’s Bush. They like him because of the fact that he disregards any sort of forward or progressive thinking that looks into the future and realizes, “Hey, we need to do something about this or we’re fucked.”

Here’s a practice SAT question for all of you struggling with reading comprehension. What did we learn from the above paragraph?
A. Brian likes to use parentheses. Embedded ones, even.
B. Global warming exists. So let’s do something about it.
C. I don’t know. I’m still bummed about the fact that I had to write an essay. And, not only that, but sign an honor pledge in cursive. I haven’t had to use cursive since, like, the third grade. So now I’m afraid that, when the people reviewing my essay see my honor statement, they’ll think I’m illiterate.
D. Who would really want to tow an RV that looks like an iron lung?
E. Brian is capable of writing Thoreau-ian, tome-length paragraphs, but he’s not happy about it.
F. “Tubes”??? Senator Stevens can’t be serious, can he? What, does he think he’s at the bank, making a deposit?
G. I’m glad you bring up the thing about the stickers, because that reminds me: You know those “Power of Pride” bumper stickers with the waving American flag? What are those all about, huh? The people who have those on their car seem to think it’s a good thing, when all I can think about when I see them is the fact that the real power of pride is that it usually leads to overzealous nationalism, which doesn’t help the situation at all. A healthy dose of respect and admiration, sure, I can agree with that. But the “Power of Pride” sounds like something that needs to be regulated to ensure it doesn’t get out of hand. Don’t you think? Or am I reading into this too much?
H. Brian is capable of making ridiculous and absurd correlations that he knows aren’t true, but sound kind of funny (in a morbid way [again with the parentheses!]).
I. Hey, hold on a second. Real SAT questions don’t have these many options to choose from.
J. All of the above.
K. None of the above.

The answer, of course, as anyone with even the most elementary education in the world would know, is K. Because you already knew A-I, so it’s not as though you really learned it from the above paragraph, now did you?

“Enough with the stalling!” “Bring on the bonus half of the post!” Okay, me, here you go: I happened to catch Saturday Night Live tonight (an event that occurs about as often as a sighting of Haley’s Comet). I would like to present my observations to you in an SNL-type sketch.

Normally Humorous And Talented Comic Who, Even As Host, Cannot Make The Awful Writing Funny (heretofore abbreviated HOST): General greetings and brief introduction so audience understands premise of the following five minutes of banter.

Somewhat Humorous Male Cast Member Who Does A Few Great Impersonations But Also Does That One Insanely Annoying Recurring Character (heretofore abbreviated DUMB GUY): Greetings to HOST. Redundant joke to emphasize the premise of sketch, this time adding a layer of sexual innuendo involving male genitalia.

(mild laughs from the audience)

Never Funny Female Cast Member (heretofore abbreviated DUMB GIRL): Greetings to HOST and DUMB GUY. Explains bizarre happenstance in which she overheard previous comment, adding her approval and unending struggle to obtain said layer of sexual innuendo involving male genitalia.

(laughs, including a few excited whoops from male members of audience)

HOST: Continues the gag by adding a new layer of sexual innuendo involving male genitalia.

(mild laughs)

DUMB GUY: Admits that said sexual innuendo involving male genitalia applies to himself on a frequent occurrence.

(huge laughs)

DUMB GIRL: Claims she would be utterly lost without any sort of sexual innuendo involving male genitalia.

(more excited whoops from male members of audience)

HOST: Conveys bafflement at any instance of DUMB GIRL’s lack of sexual innuendo involving male genitalia, what with her impressive sexual innuendo involving female genitalia.

(mild laughs; applause)

DUMB GIRL: Dismisses assertion that she has impressive sexual innuendo involving female genitalia.

DUMB GUY: Alleges his sexual innuendo involving male genitalia expands when he espies DUMB GIRL’s sexual innuendo involving female genitalia.

(fervent laughing, whooping, and applause)

HOST: Takes sexual innuendo involving male genitalia gag too far.

(scattered laughs)

DUMB GIRL: Takes sexual innuendo involving female genitalia gag too far.

DUMB GUY: Takes both gags too far.

HOST: Closing comments.

DUMB GIRL: Deems it an appropriate time for her departure. Gets in one more sexual innuendo involving male genitalia gag.

(applause as DUMB GIRL exits)

DUMB GUY: Surreptitiously makes one final gag using sexual innuendo involving male and female genitalia.

HOST: Ends sketch. Visibly seen to be relieved that sketch is over.

(courtesy applause as sketch ends and a similar one begins)

Sunday, July 09, 2006

This is not a real post, just a quick update on things. First, in case I lose my piece of paper, the following four topics will be covered in the future:
-Driving
-Videogame Violence
-Religion (again!?!?)
-Talk Radio (liberal & conservative)
Unless I decide I don't really care about any of those subjects. If that happens, then I won't write about them.

Next, we're moving into a new house on Saturday, one which isn't real cheap, but has enough room for us to get a weight bench and like a pool or ping pong table. Note: if we get a ping pong table, it will be used for ping pong, and not beer pong. Second note: our garage will be used for cars and random crap, not beer pong.

Next next, I applied for a job as an editor in Loveland for some publishing company. That would be nice.

Next^3, I was going through my room throwing away things that I don't need so I don't have to move them, and I found lots of pictures and notes from Trista. I looked at them all and read them all and it was such a weird feeling. So weird. But it does really show how feelings can fade and totally change over time (on something I saw on the internet, Trista had answered a question "Who was the last person who wrote a poem for you?" and the answer was "Adam, though I'd rather remember Christian." Going from promises of love forever to a vague dislike in one short year. Amazing. Those notes and most of thiose pictures are now in the trash, not because of any negative feelings about the whole experience, but because I don't need those anymore. The memories that I need, both good and bad, are in my head. The physical artifacts are just strange reminders of a time long long ago in the year 2001.

Leslie and I, on the other hand, are doing quite well. Quite well indeed.

If there's anything else you want to know just ask. Otherwise prepare for more vaguely leftist, vaguely political ramblings in the near or not so near future.