I could have just commented on Brian's post below, but I also wanted to ring in with a full post devoted to this:

Weezer has become the worst band in the world. Oh. My. God. It's a travesty. I wish they would change their name to avoid completely sullying their earlier work. I guess when I'm talking to my kids about Weezer I'll just probably tell them that Weezer released two albums: Blue and Pinkerton. Everything after that was some foreign band who evaded copyright and trademark laws and came out five years later with a string of progressively worse euro trash pop. Let's just go with that. When it comes to Weezer, I can totally stop partying. And unless the reviews for this new album come out saying that aside from the three new songs I just kind of started to listen to it's awesome, my Weezer days are over. Really sucks, because they did release two of the absolute best albums I've ever heard. Ah well.

Thanks for the mini-reviews of the Rock Band songs, Adam. I went ahead and picked up the Rise Against, Rancid, and Weezer packs. I play guitar for the most part, but I've finally broken several skill barriers on the drums, thus allowing me to finish most of the songs on expert. Maybe not well, but it's passing. Anyway, haven't tried them on drums yet, but I'll take your word for it that they're fun.

Speaking of music, let's talk about Weezer for a second. For reasons unknown to me, I still visit punknews.org on a daily basis. Sure, I've outgrown 99.9% of new punk music, but I still check in. Today, there's a blurb about Weezer unveiling three new songs during a recent live show in South Korea. "Okay," I think. "That's kind of cool." And then I read the titles of these tracks: "I'm Your Daddy," "The Girl Got Hot," and "Can't Stop Partying." Then I listen to the YouTube videos of the songs and turn them off before making it halfway through each song. It's just awful. So what the hell happened to Weezer? Playing Weezer's back catalog on Rock Band reminded me how good the Blue Album and Pinkerton are. Even the Green Album is a strong offering, compared to these songs. Does Rivers Cuomo think he's still a teenager? Is he stuck in some bizarre time-warp where, to himself, he doesn't age but, to everyone else, he does? Honestly, the only explanation that would make me happy is if these three songs are part of an upcoming concept album poking fun of a band who can't grow up. But something tells me they're not that clever. They're still hungover from all the partying. (Really?)

Great! Alright, so here we are. My first post in Denver. And this one goes out to Brian.

I did buy the Rock Band packs for both Rancid and Rise Against. I can only tell you how they are on drums, because that's really all I play, but both are pretty damn fun on drums anyway. I'm sure they might be a little more boring on guitar because the punk tracks generally seem to be pretty bland on guitar. But if you're a drummer, you should go for it.

Beatles Rock Band will cause me to lose my job and probably all my friends as well. I'm so fucking excited for that game it makes me ashamed of myself.

The new job at the publishing company is good. Right now all we're doing is sampling books to college professors to see if they'd be interested in buying them. But really, all that matters to me is that instead of working 7 to 6 like I did at Hertz, I am working 8 to 4:30, and I am so much happier than I have been in years. People at the job are cool, I have a lot of energy, I live in the city, the view from my apartment is sweet, and I can walk to a kick ass record store. So things are good. Only bad things are parking (street parking can kiss my ass) and elevators (one of the three elevators is generally working, which as you can imagine is awesome for a 15 story apartment building). Good things associated with that: exercise! Walking fifteen minutes from my parking spot and up nine flights of stairs should kick my ass back into shape.

I'll write a full post later on. Also, the Weezer track pack is good this week, and the Blink 182 one isn't bad either. I fucking love Rock Band. Cool beans.

Here's what's going to happen here: This post is totally directed to Adam, but anyone can join the discussion. Sure, I could have just sent him an email, but that's soooooooooo 20th century. These days, only the Amish email.

So, Adam (and everyone), did you buy any of the new tracks for Rock Band this week? If so, I'm curious as to your thoughts. I've looked at the charts and the Rise Against and Rancid packs both look entertaining enough. I was just wondering what your opinion was.

Also, how about that Beatles: Rock Band, huh? Game looks amazing. Cannot wait. Super glad they have "Twist and Shout" on the disc, as that's one of the Top 5 songs I was hoping for.

While I'm at the questions directed to Adam, what's your new job at the publishing company? And when does it start up? Have you moved yet? Anyway, congratulations on the big move!

Email. Pshaw.

Big news around these parts, huh? Adam packing up and moving to Denver. Me packing up and moving to New York City. Or Queens. Close enough. Crazy.

So, yeah, my unpacking is pretty much complete. I need to buy another bookshelf to store the crazy amount of books I have, but, other than that, I'm in good shape. My living room is completely set up and looks amazing, if I do say so myself. All that's missing is some high-quality artwork made from various artist friends of mine (thanks, Ben, Chris, and John). And the reason that's missing is because I'm an idiot and forgot to pack thumbtacks/nails. But, once I get the proper supplies, you can expect some one-of-a-kind stuff to line these walls.

This is getting too self-indulgent, my self-indulgent meter is telling me. Watch me dodge the topic by talking about As Tall As Lions. I last brought them up in April, when their self-titled album made my list of Top 25 albums. That album, oddly enough, is not their debut CD. Their debut is an album called Lafcadio. For the longest time, I thought that the self-titled album was a stronger album. And, for a new listener to the band, I think it is. However, Lafcadio is still an incredible, incredible album. It's slower, mellower, and takes its time delivering the goods. But if you're patient (I've had this album for about five years now), then it'll pay off. Hugely. Tremendously. Now, I'm not saying that it takes five years to fully grasp the brilliance of this record. But what I am saying is that this CD has stuck with me for this long and I'm only now getting to a point where I think it's nearly flawless. I can't say that about too many of my other records. So check them out, if you get a chance.

And I'm back. Sorry about that. Of course, when you're reading this, no time will have passed. But, for me, while I wrote this, twenty minutes passed. In that time, I decided to look up As Tall As Lions' MySpace page. Once there, I discovered that they not only have a new CD coming out that you can pre-order (I did), but also are playing a show at Irving Plaza next week. Neato! (My use of the word "neato" automatically negates any cool/hip connotation I hoped to affix to said show.)

So, there you have it. Looks like the first show I'll be seeing here in New York isn't going to be The Weakerthans in September. But it'll be As Tall As Lions, RX Bandits (!), and Dredg (!!) all in one place. Neato!

This won't be long because I'm busy packing. That's right, I'm packing and I'm moving to Denver. I got a job at a publishing company down there and I'm done renting cars, and I'm done with this little town, and I'm done with roommates, and I'm pretty much done with everything I've known for the past three and a half years. So yeah, Brian moved to New York, I (will have) moved to Denver. Aren't we just real people now. Wish me luck. Wish him luck. Wish yourselves luck. I'll see you on the other side.

Brian here. Before I delve into the review of our crappy home videos (spoiler alert: they're crappy. Well, kind of.), I have some fun facts I'd like to share.

I'm watching the Wimbledon men's quarterfinal matches as I type this. Federer is playing a monstrous Croatian named Ivan Karlovic. This guy is 6'10" and has a massive serve. This is how good his serve is: He's won the last 129 service games he's played. What?! No one he's played in the tournament has broken his serve. Every time it's his time to serve, he wins the game. For 129 times in a row. That's crazy.

But here's how good Roger Federer is: In Karlovic's second service game, Federer broke him. And he made it look so easy.

This last bit of information comes courtesy of Nova Science Now: So there's this device called the reCaptcha. You've most likely used it before. It's the device that asks you to type the two words you see on the screen. It's the test to make sure you're a human and not a computer. The way it works is, the computer only knows the answer to one of the two words. So if you get that one word right, it's safe to assume you can decode the second word. Now here's the crazy cool part: That second word, the one the computer doesn't know, isn't just some random, made-up word. It comes from an old document (a newspaper, a book, whatever) that's been scanned to be digitally preserved. But the computer needs your help, since, in older publications in particular, most of the text is off-kilter or blurry. So every time you use the reCaptcha device, you're helping preserve old documents. How cool is that?

So, the home movies. As Adam said, we made them during a time when we were creative. And I'm still impressed with how creative we were, just taking a camera around and making shit up. Also, considering we never really had a script or a budget, and that we shot each segment in one take, it's decent stuff. Not great, but decent.

We filmed the first one here in Virginia. It involves us taking the camera around to local hot-spots: PetCo, Toys R Us, Dunkin Donuts. And, of course, my basement. Highlights include: a Frederick Douglass hand-puppet lip-syncing "Wonderwall"; a Who Wants to Be a Millionaire parody where I play a jerk of a host; a "making of" segment where we got my sister to do some narration that she botched several times (but thanks for your help, Laura!); and, of course, the Home Shopping Network skit (we were selling a Nerf dart). Bloopers were fun, though the Home Shopping Network outtakes sometimes ran too long to get to the funny part where we crack up.

The second video represents a monumental leap in quality... of the transitional effects. Content stays relatively the same. But the second, third, and fourth volumes were all from Georgia. And Adam's dad had some cutting-edge (at the time) editing software on his computer, so we have all sorts of cool title cards and such. Anyway, highlights: Adam, as Steve Irwin, in search of the Moroccan Giant Duck (or the Giant Moroccan Duck -- we sometimes inverted our words [again, no script!]); touring Stone Mountain Park in search of the haunted, uh, music thing; a Blair Witch parody; segments from the first three episodes of our "B&A Records" TV show; and, of course, the Home Shopping Network skit (we were selling a tennis ball).

Volume 3: World's Slowest Police Chases (where we followed cars around Stone Mountain Park and made shit up); a parody of Big Brother, featuring Aaron (this one is quite funny, actually); a parody of Fear Factor, also featuring Aaron; and, of course, the Home Shopping Network skit (we were selling a coaster).

Apparently we made volume 4 in a day and a half. I don't remember this, but it definitely has a rushed feel to it. It's also our weakest one, which may explain why it was the last. From what I recall: two "guided tours of Georgia" (kind of like the Slowest Police Chases from last time, but not nearly as funny); the Dos and Don'ts of Weightlifting; the Dos and Don'ts of Tennis; another "making of" segment, sans my sister; a Weakest Link parody (where I play three characters!); and, of course, the Home Shopping Network skit (we were selling a, uh... I'm not sure what it was, exactly. Small candle holder?).

One last note about the movies: I really am audacious enough to compare our crappy home movies to Arrested Development. Let me explain. We had recurring gags/foreshadowing not only in a single volume, but also across the multiple volumes. Jokes such as: Adam always picking up Line 5; me always using a product twice; a "I feel it in my bones" line that I use one year and Adam uses another year; maybe one or two others. So, watching the four volumes relatively back-to-back, it was cool to see the continuity.

Yikes, this has been a mammoth post. Sorry about that. Bottom line: Adam, find/borrow/steal a VCR and watch the movies. They're worth it for the nostalgic factor and the occasional laugh.

Wow. I got on here for the first time in a week or two, and I didn't have to log in. It remembered me. Should I be happy or terrified that technology is now reading what I type and evolving to meet my demands?

I fucking LOVED Michael Jackson when I was a kid. LOVED him. I didn't even think there was any other music for years. It's kind of surreal to me that he's dead. I almost thought that maybe he had experienced the perfect blend of plastic surgery and medications that he had accidentally stumbled onto immortality. Apparently not. I heard that on the day after MJ died, his albums were SEVENTY PERCENT(!!!) of ALL the orders on Amazon.com. All of the top 15 albums on the site were his. 15 of the top 15. That's amazing. He was probably one of the strangest men in the world, but man, that voice and those moves, and those songs, and that skin and that glove... The man could have been the single most famous musician of all time. It's strange to be around to see a genuine piece of world history disappear.

How about that Farrah Fawcett, huh? She died too. Sad. I think I'm too young to really appreciate that one but I heard a lot of old men the next day saying some pretty pervy things about her. Kind of weird, considering she had just died. But you know, old men will be boys.

How about that Ed McMahon, huh? Heeeeeeere's Johnny! Hey-o! I just won a hundred million dollars again this year, and all I have to do is order some magazines! I did watch Star Search when I was a kid. Well, let's all have a drink for the three famous people who died here last week, and then move on because...

...there are some crazy shits going on in Iran right now. I guess maybe less crazy right now than a week or two ago, but man, could you feel the electricity in the air from the people rising up against an unjust dictatorship and threatening to take down the establishment? I could. I was riveted, I was so excited to see that people somewhere have the audacity to stand up to evil and say "We've had ENOUGH!" And then evil said "We have the MILITARY!" and the revolution kind of fizzled out. Once the government came out and actually said "If you protest peacefully, we will kill you, your family, and everything you love," the people said "Hey man, it's all good. We were just kidding." Sure, there were a few die-hards (literally, it turned out) that had had ENOUGH (of living, it turned out) of these despots, but your average peaceful protester seems like they decided that a little more freedom isn't worth being dead for. Makes sense, since if you're dead you can't really enjoy your freedom. But man, wouldn't it have been something to see a real revolution, led by the people in the streets, and not a coup by some other military megalomaniac. Maybe next time.

And how about that North Korea, huh? Kim Jong Il's (sp?) son is named Kim Jong Un? (sp?) Who the fuck does this guy think he is? Now he's going to "shoot a missle" at Hawaii, huh? I mean, that's cute that there's a country that allows a mentally ill midget crossdresser to be their leader, and it's cute that he thinks that we're going to be terrified of him shooting a missile at Hawaii on the 4th of July, but really, a stupid retarded little person in a pompadour throwing rocks at the Pacific Ocean is probably only scary to the water within six inches of the beach. And even then, his stupid tiny atrophied muscles and his complete lack of exercise while he sits in his (probably) WAAAAY oversized throne being fed grapes by topless women, will probably lead to him pulling something when he tries to push the button to "shoot the missile." He can't even hit Japan! Don't you think you ought to launch a shuttle into space before you declare you're going to fly to, and establish a colony on, Pluto? (He didn't do that, I'm just saying, if you can't hit Japan with a missile and it's out your back door, you probably can't hit some islands far far away.)

Anything else? I guess not. I'd just like to say, I also have Brian and my home videos from back when we were creative, yet I have no VCR to watch them. Their hilarous/idiotic antics elude me, and due to the bonk on my head/drugs/genetics/brain transplant, I can hardly remember what is on them. I look forward to reading Brian's comments on our masterpieces/embarassments to our families.

So, to Brian's accurate portrayal of our readership, "What up."

Oh. Dear. God.

I was cleaning out my closet (no connection to the Eminem song) when I found the old "Brian and Adam's Crappy Home Videos." All four (!) volumes. I'm watching the first one now. More on this later.

Grab your Ritalin, because this post is going to be all over the-

So, Iran. What a crazy situation. I've gotta say, when Bush got re-elected in 2004, I kind of wish something similar had happened here. There's just something about huge masses of upset people who are so pissed-off they're willing to risk their health/lives/well-being to stand up for what they believe in. It gets me every time.

I've been listening to Dire Straits recently. The "Making Movies" album, mostly, but also "Brothers in Arms." How the hell have I overlooked this iconic band for so long?

Here's how I came about digging Dire Straits: Last week, one week ago today, I picked up the key to my apartment in Queens, NY. Driving back from Queens, I was flipping through the radio stations, getting a feel for what kind of stuff they play in New York City. I stumbled upon a classic rock station that, no shit, played a solid hour of the greatest classic rock songs I've ever heard amassed on Clear Channel-sponsored radio. My only complaint? The commercials. I'm spoiled by listening to CDs or public radio, where you don't get the onslaught of ads. So, out of that hour, a good fifteen minutes was probably commercials. Still, the part that wasn't trying to sell me stuff was unadulterated rock. One of the songs happened to be "Sultans of Swing." I said to myself, "You know, I like this song. But I've never really listened to Dire Straits." I thought that, just like that, with the quotation marks and everything. Anyway, upon coming back home, I did some research using the fantastic allmusic.com. "Brothers in Arms" is their recommended pick, but "Making Movies" got the highest score. My question to you (Adam, Cam, Leslie, my sister -- I think that sums up our readership) is: which album should I try next?

Speaking of New York, I've purchased my ticket for The Weakerthans at the Bowery Ballroom. Perhaps the first concert I'll see up in city as a resident. So cool.

Finally, I won't be reading a non-fiction science book for May/June. I ran out of time. It took me most of the two months to finish Roberto Bolano's mammoth "The Savage Detectives." Unfortunately, it was a decidedly average book. Held my interest enough to get through, but never really grabbed me. Near the end, I found myself reading it more just to finish it, rather than to discover the conclusion. Not a good sign. Also: I figure that, what with school starting up in August, I will no longer have much time/desire to do fun reading, so I was bound to flake out, eventually. Why not now?

Every time I log into this thing, I click the "Remember Me" box. This apparently tells the thing to remember me for approximately three seconds, because if I wait a couple of days to come back to this, I have to log back in again. It's not really the most annoying thing in the world, but it does make me wonder what happens if you don't click the "Remember Me" box. Will it forget you all together and your account disappears? I feel like I'm at the end of Eternal Sunshine, shouting at blogger "Remember me! Remember me!" But then when it wakes up, it has no idea who I am. And I am so sad.

In Denver on Friday night with my brother waiting to see the Dillinger Four, a guy came up to us and said "Hey guys, my name's Leroy and I'm a street performer. I sing songs, old Motown. You want to hear one?" And I said "Heeeeellllll yeaaaaahhhh boooooooyyyyyyy!." Then Leroy busted out a nice version of one of the greatest songs of all time, Sitting on the Dock of the Bay. He had a backup dancer, he was engaging the crowd (me, Aaron, and this other guy who was standing next to us), and he had a good voice. That earned a few bucks from me, and some money from the guy next to us. Which leads me to my point here: There are a TON of homeless people out there right now, and a lot of us can't decide which to give money to/spit on (depending on your political affiliations). If homeless people would just do SOMETHING, I bet they would make way more money. Look, I don't want to sound cruel, but sitting there with a beard and a sign that says "Homeless Veteran Please Help" just doesn't do anything for anyone anymore. It's not that we're not sad that you're homeless, especially since you served your country in the military, it's just that we're not made of money either. It's like CDs. I'd love to buy every CD I want, but I don't have enough money. I'd love to give money to every homeless person, but then they'd have a couple bucks each and I'd be homeless too. So to all our homeless readers out there, find something you can do and do it. Draw a picture, sing a song, dance a little jig. I guarantee this will increase your revenue/decrease your spit-on quotient by a marked amount.

Leslie wanted me to mention that I was visiting her in Seattle in my last post and I didn't so I told her I'd mention her in this one, and I did. Seattle is a cool place if you ever get to go there. The Pike Market has a ton of amazing looking locally grown food. There's a microbrewery right there that's got some good beer and a great reuben. There are a TON of gay people of every gender, and a TON of homeless people who seem to be getting kind of aggressive about taking your money. And yes, there are a TON of coffee shops. And lots of Asians. However, I'm not sure I ever saw an Asian homosexual homeless person drinking coffee. So just like in high school, the cliques don't mix. Won't we ever learn?

I had a good post saved up in my brain for a while and I never wrote it. So this is what you got instead. Shazam!

Thankfully, I don't have insomnia. I realize that's a bizarre way to start a post. But I'm thankful that I don't have insomnia because I recently saw a commercial for Ambien CR. (I would just like to add that, if you go to the Ambien CR website, the front-page graphic is of five ethnically-diverse people standing on a pill. The caption cracks me up: "Not actual pill size." As if someone out there is thinking, "Man, I could use some Ambien CR, but, goddamn, that is one giant pill!") Anyway, this commercial scared me. No, it terrified me. The side effects -- of which there are many -- seem extremely uncomfortable and/or fatal. In fact, I'd guess that about half of the 30-second spot discussed the detriments of the drug. Even if I had severe insomnia, I don't think I'd risk taking Abien CR. Certainly not after that ad.

Amazing transition in five, four, three, two...

Speaking of commercials and their ineffectiveness, have you seen the Loud 'N Clear infomercial? This is truly a sight to behold. Let's open on a poor old woman who simply wants to play Bingo. Had she only proper hearing, she'd be on a roll (? [I'm not familiar with Bingo lingo.]). This same lady is also taking her Loud 'N Clear to church, where all the devout patrons secretly scorn her and pray that she ends up writhing in hell next to Satan for the rest of eternity, all because it looks like she's bringing one of those damn Bluetooth things into their sacred and God-loving church of all things holy, amen. But hey! At least she can HEAR them condemning her to hell!

My next favorite character in this commercial is the man with charcoal hair. We first meet him as he's watching his son's little league game while wearing the Loud 'N Clear. A nice gesture, but altogether unnecessary. I mean, what's the point of having to hear the umpire when he consistently uses visible hand motions to indicate if a player is safe or out? But I digress.

The next day, Mr. Charcoal Hair is out in the wild, hunting! What a true manly man, this man is! Although, judging by his inept stealth tactics, I'm guessing he doesn't get out much.

The point? Get the Loud 'N Clear and you will: get consistent Bingos! Hunt better! Eavesdrop on people invariably discussing how attractive and/or well-off you are! Get good, church-going people to secretly turn against you!

Finally, let's talk about cupcakes. I like cupcakes. I even enjoy making cupcakes. Cupcakes are always fun. However... Are you a man who makes cupcakes? Do you sometimes feel... inadequate... about the size of your cupcakes? Trying to find the cupcake variation of a Hummer? (Yes, that pun was entirely intentional.) Then you need Big Top Cupcakes. But wait. Let's stop and think about this a moment. What kind of message are you sending to your children? (Let's assume, for the sake of argument, that the children in this ad are, in fact, your children.) Look at how a normal, ordinary cupcake elicits from them heretofore uncharted levels of ennui. The only thing that will draw them back from the brink of an endlessly demoralizing cycle of introspection is to... provide them with a cupcake twenty-five times bigger?

I'm just thankful that I don't live in those infomercial worlds. Those despondent, cruel, black-and-white worlds where everything sucks and everyone acts so fucking hopeless all the time.

Oh, and I'm also thankful I don't have insomnia.

Jesus, you know, I was all like "Yeah, I'm totally going to like update this thing like all the time." And now I'm all like "Nah." So sorry. I'm a dirty rotten fucking liar, and you should hate me. But you don't. You love me. And that's cool too.

I'm sitting in a coffee shop in Seattle that has free wi-fi and I feel like this is what people do in this situation. There's another guy in here on his laptop too but it's facing away from me so I can't see what he's doing. I assume he's Twittering or some shit, so at least I'm way cooler than him. Have I mentioned how much I hate Twitter? I hate Twitter a lot. I hate the word Twitter. I hate that when you do it it's called a "tweet." I hate people who think they need to tell other people what they're doing all the time, and I hate The Man limiting you to 140 characters or whatever (I don't know anything about Twitter). Censorship! This is also the reason I rarely get on Facebook and never update my status. Nobody cares what I'm doing. I hardly care what I'm doing most of the time.

After months of not doing anything exciting with my life, I "went to" three concerts last week. First, with Cam, I went to see Nine Inch Nails at Fiddler's Green. Not bad, and fairly priced ($30ish). What's weird about this concert is that Jane's Addiction (seriously?) played AFTER NIN. Which was actually cool, since Jane's Addiction sucks, the concert was in the middle of the week so I had to get to bed at a somewhat reasonable time, and because of this, we got to leave around 9. NIN played forever and they're pretty decent live. Pretty good setlist too. "Hurt" live outside while the sun was going down was one of the more awesome live music experiences I've had.

Then on Friday we went to Denver to see Lucero and Chuck Ragan. We didn't see them because I'm a moron and didn't buy tickets ahead of time. See, I've seen Lucero live like seven times at this point and they have NEVER sold anything out. But I didn't take into account the fact that it was a Friday night in Denver at a small venue. They were sold out. But, I got some of Cam and Leslie's Famous Home Cooked Bacon Mac and Cheese and some of the most gigantic biscuits that have ever been made. But man, if you ever get the chance to see Lucero live, you should definitely do it. They end every show the same way, by getting EXTREMELY drunk and taking requests, which they only half remember how to play, but it's a really fun time. So yeah, I was pretty bummed about that, but you know, life goes on, and they'll be back.

Saturday was Neko Case, and it was my first time seeing her live, and it was pretty damn cool. Sarai and I went to Efrain's in Lafayette beforehand and I had some pretty delicious fajitas. That was a good start to the night, and then Neko Case put on a really good, and great sounding show, playing pretty much all of her new album (which is awesome, by the way), some choice cuts off of her last album (which is awesome, by the way), and couple from the one before that. Only problem with this show is that we got there like five minutes before the show started and all the good viewing spots were taken. So for the first set, Calexico, we stood getting molested by fat guys in cowboy hats and being behind so many people we couldn't see anything. We spent Neko's set literally all the way in the back of the theater, where at least we could see, but the music was kind of quiet and people were just talking loudly. I don't understand why people pay money to go to a concert and then stand there and talk to their friends over the music the whole time. You can do that for free outside, where other people who paid for the concert aren't trying to listen to the damn show.

Anyway now I'm in Seattle for the first time and it's 85 degrees and sunny as hell. So so far I don't get what all the hoopla about rain all the time is. It's so nice to finally get a vacation from work. I'm going to see a Mariner's game while I'm here, and do other things that you do in Seattle. I don't know what that consists of. So yeah. Sorry this post was so bloggy and not angry ramblings of an insane man about the issues of the day. But you know, that's how it goes, and that's how it shall go today.

Talk to you whenever! Call me!

Well, howdy. It's been a while. Sorry about the lack of updates recently. Not too much new to report, sadly.

I dusted off my old Nintendo Entertainment System earlier this evening. It has been many, many, many years since I've played that thing. I was all eager to boot it up and play, but it took me close to thirty minutes to get the system to work. I wish I were joking. I tried all the tricks from the old days: blowing on the cart, blowing inside the machine, and using a cassette tape case to hold down the cart. That last option finally worked. But man, what a mess.

So I decided to play this game that I'm about 100% sure no one has ever played before, mainly because it's probably illegal. I wish I could ask my dad about the details, but the story goes something along the lines of this: My dad found an ad in the classifieds. It was for "1500 games in 1." Now, circa 1991, 1992, this seemed unfathomable. In fact, it's still a rather ludicrous claim today. So me and my dad went to investigate. It wasn't available in stores -- no, that'd be too legal -- so, instead, we went to the seller's house. Yeah, sketchy, right? But, again, this is 1991/1992, and, as we all know, crime didn't exist in the past. Rape and murder and stealing are only contemporary scourges. So, yeah, it was completely, 100% safe. (Shut up, all you people saying, "But in 1991/1992, that was your present, not the past.") Anyway, we went to the guy's house and he booted up the game for us. Sure enough, there's a menu that says "1500 games in 1." Each screen holds about 50 games. And he showed us a few of them. Paperboy. Tetris. Galaga. Pinball. I was in awe. This game was the motherfucking shit! Of course, a six or seven-year-old Brian wouldn't say that, but I thought whatever the six or seven-year-old equivalent is. And so my dad bought me what is surely a super illegal pirated game of some sort.

I found out later that the "1500 games" part is rather misleading. True, the menu goes from 01 to 1500, however those are not 1500 unique games. There are essentially 50 core games that get recycled. But the variations (sometimes as many as, like, 100 or 200) involve changing the character(s) in the game. So, for instance, Donkey Kong. You get the original. But then you get a version that changes Donkey Kong into a witch and Mario into a turtle. Or Donkey Kong into a devilish thing and Mario into a sexy woman. (As sexy as an 8-bit woman can look, I guess.) Or you get a basic racing game with normal cars. But then you can also race as bubbles. Or saws. Or snowflakes. You get the picture.

Lesson? Pirated shit is a bit of a sham. Still, where else can you witness an epic battle between a barrel-throwing devil and a sexy 8-bit woman?

In my ongoing effort to create bizarre contrasts while cooking: There's a thunderstorm outside and I'm baking cupcakes. Yeah, what?

The tennis season is over. We had an abysmal 2-12 record. Our two wins were against the same school. That school has now lost every single match for three seasons in a row. Ouch.

I finished my science book for March/April, Cosmos. Great, great book. There were numerous instances when I had to stop reading, look up, and just think, "Damn." It blows my mind, thinking about topics as expansive as the universe. And to think that there are people who devote their entire lives to discovering and dissecting such vastness. Also, the full extent of time is boggling. I mean, 14 billion years since the Big Bang? 14 billion years? And each of us is alive for, on average, 60-70 years. 65 years in comparison to 14 billion years. I just can't even conceive of time like that.

Bottom line, check it out. Great book. Now I have to get back to my cupcakes.

My friend Shanif started a new website: www.myownsixwords.com It's pretty cool. I've only made one post, as of now, and it's an English major joke. Look for name: BMK.

My blog posts have been very short recently. Free time became quite a commodity this past week. I preferred to do other things. But I'll be back soon.

I made this mix CD on Easter to celebrate Jesus Our Lord in all His GloRy. PlEase Do enJoy and if yoU want SomeThiNg to Listen to please do Make your own COPy.

1. Neko Case - This Tornado Loves You
2. The Anniversary - The D in Detroit
3. Blueline Medic - Swan Song
4. Boy Sets Fire - My Life in the Knife Trade
5. Tom Gabel - Amputations
6. The Mountain Goats - Sometimes I Still Feel the Bruise
7. Austin Lucas/Chuck Ragan - Sun or Snow
8. Ben Nichols - Toadvine
9. Manchester Orchestra - I Can Feel a Hot One
10. Margot & the Nuclear So and So's - Broadripple is Burning (acoustic)
11. Against Me! - Borne on the FM Waves of the Heart
12. Okkervil River - The President's Dead
13. Joey Cape - Errands
14. Austin Lucas - Go West
15. The Avett Brothers - Swept Away (Sentimental Version)
16. Bon Iver - Skinny Love
17. Iron & Wine - Trapeze Swinger
18. Hot Water Music - Radio

One of God's greatest gifts to man is the USB turntable. Putting records on your computer so you can listen to records on your IPod really makes me feel a lot less like a luddite for liking records and a lot more like hip, cool loser.

Just a few notes to catch up on today, since I've been MIA for the past few weeks. I'm pretty sure I'm getting sick right now, which sucks. But you guys, are you scared shitless of this swine flu? I'm so scared. There have been over 245 people in the country get sick with this thing. TWO HUNDRED AND FORTY FIVE! That's practically .0000008% of the population of the country! Head for those nuclear war bunkers we built when we were sure the world was going to be ended by nuclear war with the Russians. Or when we were sure the world was going to be ended by accidental war in the horrifyingly accurate Y2K ordeal. Or when we were sure it was going to be SARS or bird flu or whatever the fuck Christians think is supposed to happen, or whatever the fuck Muslims think is supposed to happen, or whatever the fuck anyone else thinks is supposed to happen. I've got a good feeling about this one though. After all, it's comforting to know that the WHO (not the band) is just as susceptible to crazy fear mongering as the crazy homeless man on the street corner. PANDEMIC!

Anyway, if you're not dead from the swine flue and you're still reading this, I want to wish a happy belated 4/20 to all you filthy pot smoking hippies out there, and I want you to know we're all with you on this legalizing pot thing. We saw how well prohibition worked out back when we tried it on alcohol. I'd say it's working just about as well for weed now. Lots of innocent people in jail, a missed revenue stream by the government, the act of procuring weed much more dangerous than it would be were it legal, the act of smoking whatever crazy shit you got from your dealer a lot more dangerous than it would be were it legal. Yes folks, we're totally winning the war on drugs. Just look at how no one is in jail for doing drugs, no one dies in vicious violence spilling over our borders from Mexico, no one is in rehab, and no one even does them! Isn't it amazing what making something illegal will do? Just like how were we to make abortion illegal, that spike in deaths from botched back alley coathanger abortions would be totally coincidental, because obviously no one would be getting abortions since they'd be illegal! Just like how no one speeds! I love laws, man.

The movie Adventureland surprised me by being the best movie I've seen all year. It was very funny, but above that, a much better movie than I expected, and a much better movie than most comedies. Too bad I have the feeling it slid under a lot of people's radars.

It's also been 10 years since the Columbine killings. Not the first school shooting, not the last. But I remember exactly where I was when I heard about it, and it was one of those moments when your worldview is shattered as a kid. No one is safe anywhere, there is pure evil in the world, and goth kids are whiny little bitches. I still can't look at anyone wearing a trench coat without wondering what the fuck they're thinking.

Cool,t alkt oyo ulate r.

Is it inherently sad or inherently awesome that I'm drinking a glass of wine while making macaroni and cheese for dinner? Either way, it's inherently something.

Seriously, CNN, what the fuck?


So I check CNN.com yesterday afternoon, and this is what I see as the main story. First of all, Bush? Really? Who the hell wrote/edited that headline? And second, the picture has Calderon on the left and Obama on the right, so it'd only make sense for it to read "Calderon and Obama huddle over flu," no? Or, if we're going to go with the U.S.-centric headline of "Obama and Calderon," could we at least change the order of the pictures? Finally, (and this has nothing to do with CNN, but I'm going to rope them into this tirade anyway) Firefox should update its spell-check software. Obama is still considered a typo. I keep getting the red dotted line underneath it, saying, "No, you mean Bush, right?" Maybe the CNN writer/editor is also the one to blame for this spell-check foul-up.

(If you look closely at the picture, you'll notice that the other tab open in my browser is one explaining how to take a screen capture. That's professionalism!)

The list of 25 Albums I Most Enjoy/Enjoy Most concludes:

Alkaline Trio - Maybe I'll Catch Fire: As Adam said, it's a tough call between this album and Infirmary. In the end, I chose Fire because 1)Radio is a damn good song and 2)Oddly enough, it doesn't seem as dark to me, in comparison. This is still a dark album, sure, but it's a lighter dark.

As Tall As Lions - s/t: I knew a kid in high school named Richard Meader. Haven't spoken to him since, but, if I did, I'd thank him for introducing me to three bands: As Tall As Lions, Dredg, and Count the Stars. Count the Stars is a pop-punk band I outgrew by junior year of college. However, As Tall As Lions and Dredg are both pretty fantastic. This self-titled album is not actually their freshman effort, it's their sophomore release. And instead of suffering the sophomore slump, they expand their sound from the first album, morph it into something a bit more 60's-inspired, and leave you with a fun, fun, fun album.

The Ataris - Blue Skies, Broken Hearts... Next 12 Exits: It always kind of bugged me that there were 14 songs on this album, but whatever. Here's an instance where I think The Ataris' End is Forever album is a better album, but Blue Skies is the one I enjoy more. This CD pretty much IS my junior year of high school. Yeah, it made the list purely on sentimental value, but there's no denying that this is some of the best pop-punk ever.

Bad Astronaut - Houston, We Have a Drinking Problem: What to say about this iconic album? It's been a staple on my Top 10/25/whatever CDs list since it first came out. It's not simply punk. It's not simply rock. It's not simply indie. It's just what it is. I was a Joey Cape fan before hearing this, but afterward: damn. The other impressive thing about this album: I had exceedingly high expectations for it. Unrealistically high expectations. And yet this album lived up to the hype, then surpassed it.

Brand New - The Devil and God are Raging Inside Me: Unlike Bad Astronaut, I had written off Brand New. I liked their previous album, Deja Entendu, but it never stuck with me much past the first year or two of college. Fast forward three years. I'm reviewing CDs at the radio station, looking through my stack of CDs, and see this. "Huh," I think. Noteworthy not only because I recognize the name, but also because, since I had stopped following the band, I had no idea they were releasing a new CD. When I put this CD in, I was blown away with how good it was. This is not the bratty pop-punk band they were on their first album. This is not the indie rock band they turned into for their second album, Deja Entendu. This is a new band entirely. They're angry, they're passionate, and they write songs that will knock your socks off. Highly recommended.

Cadillac Blindside - These Liquid Lungs: Another staple on my Top 10/25/whatever CDs list. I keep using the word "dark," and I'd really like to find another word, but this is a dark album. However, Cadillac Blindside doesn't wallow in their dark world. They fuse the dark subject matter with some of the most infectious melodies I've found in the punk scene. I love singing along to this record.

Dashboard Confessional - The Places You Have Come to Fear the Most: Once again, this is all about sentimental value. High school, for sure. But goddamn, it's still catchy as hell. This is probably the best bunch of songs Chris Carrabba will ever write.

Dredg - Catch Without Arms: Richard Meader, thank you. Back in high school, he introduced me to Leitmotif, Dredg's first album. It was good, I liked it. But it was only good. It was a little too heavy for me. Kind of a mix of, say, Apex Theory with Pink Floyd. (I have no idea if that's accurate, but it sounds good to me.) I liked them enough, however, to stick with them. Dredg's next album, El Cielo, was more mellow. Less angsty. But very artsy. Seriously. It's like art rock. Some filler songs, but a cohesive album with some complex work. Then they released Catch Without Arms. This is an unabashedly pop album. Gone are the heavy elements of their first album. Nonexistent are the filler tracks from their second album. What's left is twelve superbly-written songs that focus on melody. It's a harmonious album. They shed their pretension and make simple, glorious music. Also highly recommended.

The list continues:

Elliott Smith - XO: It's a damn shame Elliott Smith killed himself. Unlike some of the bands/artists on this list, I feel as though Smith really could have topped himself. XO is a fantastic album -- sad, dark, and beautiful -- yet I can't shake the feeling that, if he had kept making music, I'd be picking a different album.

Explosions in the Sky - The Earth is not a Cold Dead Place: This is the first instrumental album on the list, and a necessary companion to the second instrumental album if you're new to the whole instrumental indie rock genre. It's only five songs, but it lasts forty-five and a half minutes. Epic.

Filmmaker - An Invitation to an Accident: I wish I could remember how, exactly, I discovered Filmmaker. I think I found their page on mp3s.com (or something) and took a listen to their songs. I discovered articulate rock songs with some impressive guitar work. I promptly ordered the only two CDs they ever released: an EP and a full-length. The Canadian record label, Farway Records, disappeared a few months later. I have never met another person who has heard of this band, which is an injustice. I still go to their Purevolume page in the hopes that they'll add mp3 versions of the 3 songs that are streaming there. It's been six years, and I'm still hoping...

The Gaslight Anthem - The '59 Sound: I love this album. When I first heard it, I thought the songs were catchy, but that they all kinda sounded the same. Then I kept listening to it. And I kept listening to it. And I kept listening to it. I was powerless against it. The songs just kept calling me back. And now, after countless listens, I'm proud to say that the songs, in fact, don't all sound the same. If you like blue collar, Bruce Springsteen-inspired tunes, then this is the band for you.

The Get Up Kids - On a Wire: Something to Write Home About is the album that hooked me on The Get Up Kids, but On a Wire is the one that I keep coming back to. They sound a little more mature on this one or something, I don't know. Can't quite explain it. But it's great stuff, whatever it is they're doing.

Lagwagon - Let's Talk about Feelings: The definitive So-Cal skate-punk album. Clocking in at around 25 minutes, it's short, it's fast, it's rockin'. And with the one-two punch of "May 16th" and "Owen Meany" to end the album, what more could you ask for?

The Lawrence Arms - Oh! Calcutta!: Picking my favorite Lawrence Arms record was the hardest choice I had to make on this list. But I settled on this, what could possibly be (though I really, really, really, really, really, really hope not) their last album. It's a perfect mix of Chris and Brendan's vocals (we all knew they needed to team up on more songs). It's got that gritty, Midwestern vibe. It's punk rock.

Okkervil River - The Stand Ins: If these guys don't get to the super stardom level of the Arcade Fire or the Decemberists, I will be very surprised. They have all the elements in place: catchy indie rock tunes that crowds can sing along to, and... well, let's be honest, what more do you need?

Osker - Idle Will Kill: I loved this album in high school. I loved this album in college. And I love this album even more now. Sure, it has snotty-sounding teenage vocals, but, goddamn, some of the lyrics are far beyond what a snotty-sounding teenager should be writing. On a side note: More than any other album, I think my voice sounds best when singing along to this CD. Either Devon's vocal range is exactly the same as mine, or I have just as bad of a voice as he does.

Hello, friends. Yes, I did have a birthday this past week. I'm actually 54, but hey, Adam was close enough. Anyway, I don't really have a proper update for you. Instead, I'm going to give you the first third of my list of 25 Albums I Most Enjoy/Enjoy Most. See, back when Adam and I first reunited the band (as it were), he said he'd be interested in seeing my list of top 25 albums. Since I'm a jerk (and/or lazy), I'm twisting it a bit. Instead of ranking them from 1 to 25, I'm just going to give you an alphabetical list. This is mostly because I love all of these albums and there's no way I can effectively order them. Now, you may be wondering just what the hell "Most Enjoy/Enjoy Most" means exactly. Basically, these might not be the greatest/best CDs in the world, but they're either the ones that I've played the most or the ones that have give me the most enjoyment (duh). (Apparently I've traded in my love of colons for a love of forward slashes.) Anyway, don't be surprised if you see several repeats from Adam's list. Since he introduced me to punk music back in the day, most of these selections cull from our younger and more vulnerable days when we would swap song and CD suggestions using AOL Instant Messenger. (Seriously, IM? Who the hell uses THAT any more? Actually, probably everyone but me.)

Radiohead - OK Computer: This is the only mainstream album that made the cut. It's also one of the reasons why I don't feel comfortable calling this list a list of 25 Best Albums Ever in the History of the World. I haven't listened to many of the albums in the "classic CD" cannon. However, this is one of them that I have. It's also one of them that I thoroughly, thoroughly agree is worth the hype. This entire album needs to come out for Rock Band. Now.

Rocky Votolato - Suicide Medicine: A fantastic singer-songwriter. Also, he came and played a show in Harrisonburg (my college's poor excuse for a college town). No one came to Harrisonburg! (This is not true. Several bands came to Harrisonburg. But not really.)

Saves the Day - Stay What You Are: Listening to this CD takes me back to high school. Summer. Playing online card games with Adam. I know no one cares about how dorky we were (Ha! "Were."), but I'm just saying. Saves the Day will never, never, never top this album. Frankly, I'd be okay if they stopped trying. It's not gonna happen, fellas.

Saxon Shore - The Exquisite Death of Saxon Shore: This is the second instrumental album on my list. The songs are fairly short and they're a bit more upbeat, but they still pack quite a punch. If you're feeling like wading into the waters of instrumental music, this is a great place to start.

Sleep Station - After the War: For me, this is the definitive Sleep Station album. Not only are the songs top-notch, but also the sound clips fit in with the rest of the CD without detracting from the mood or feeling like filler.

Some by Sea - On Fire! (Igloo): The only reason I heard about this album was because I reviewed it while working at the radio station. It is one of a handful of true gems to come from the radio station review process. Call it orchestral/chamber pop/indie rock whatever, it's damn good. Catchy, catchy, catchy tunes that will have you singing along with a smile.

Thursday - Full Collapse: This album was in heavy rotation during the end of high school and beginning of college. I still listen to it every now and then, though not nearly as frequently. (Thankfully, I'm also not nearly as angsty as I was back in those days.) I'm consistently pleased with how well it holds up.

The Weakerthans - Left and Leaving: Strong lyrics? Check. Catchy melodies? Check. Canadian musicians? Check. This album has it all. Extremely superly highly recommended.

I just have three quick things to say. I'll give you that full post on things that are illegal but shouldn't be one day. I'm just waiting until the moment is right, and you're all salivating appropriately.

First, let's all wish a happy belated birthday to my good friend and co-author of this blog, Brian. Brian turned a youthful 53 yesterday but doesn't look a day over 77. One thing you might not know about Brian is that he was born on tax day. It's true! Therefore, he is exempt from paying taxes. Or that's what he says every year at this time, anyway.

Second, I want to give a quick "shout out" (I will honor my previous deal that if I ever used that phrase you could kick me in the nuts. I am a man of my word.) to the guys over at Rock Pedal. Now, if you know me, you know I'm a really unbelievably huge loser, and I play a LOT of fake drums in Rock Band. A while back my plastic generic kick pedal broke because I rock too fucking hard and I wanted to order the Rock Band 2 drum kit. I ordered it, only to be told it was on back order. For like four months. So I broke down and bought the $80 Rock Pedal in the meantime. Three things about this pedal. One, it looks kick ass and it makes me feel like a real drummer, though I'm so incredibly not. Two, though you have to fiddle around with it, you can eventually get it set to your exact preferences on height, resistance, and sensor point so that you can drum exactly the way you want to. This WILL increase your score and make you feel like a big fake loser BADASS. Three, I contacted the guys there because there's a piece on the pedal that I have already ruined through rocking too fucking hard, and without asking for any kind of receipt information or anything, they put a replacement part in the mail to me with a nice letter saying they were sorry for the trouble this piece breaking caused me. That kind of customer service can't be beat, and I just wanted to share that story with everyone out there. If you want to be a better fake drummer and you want to support some really nice folks who make a really quality product, drop the money on that pedal. I promise you will not regret it.

Three, tea parties? Really? Tea parties and pirates. Great, soon we'll all have polio and be heading out west looking for gold in them thar hills. Well, I'm off to get my pick axe.

I just want to say a quick Happy Zombie Jesus day to all my Chrazy Christian friends who believe that their lord and savior was a bunny that rose from the dead and ate brains, before Mohammed was sent to Earth to put an end to his reign of terror. Or something like that. It's been a while since I went to church. And I only went the one time. So yeah. Happy Easter, weirdos.

A note about this post: My intention is not to be mean. I merely find the following situation to be incredibly humorous. I hope you do, as well.

Gather 'round, kids, because it's story time. It all starts with me trying to discover where I can find Cheerwine here in the northern Virginia area. (Cheerwine, for those of you who do not know, is pretty much the most amazing soda in the world. It's like Dr. Pepper, but with more cherry flavor.) So I go to the Google machine and type in "Where can I find Cheerwine?" One of the results is a forum where someone asked, conveniently enough, "Is there anywhere I can get Cheerwine in the Washington, DC area?" I read through the responses, and one of them says, "Just FYI, I was part of a Cheerwine focus group a few months ago... they are indeed looking to make a national push." This is great news!, thinks I. Moreover, the "Cheerwine focus group" part was in clickable-link font. So I click on the link, which transports me to this blog post. Now, I'm trying my best to reserve judgment at this point. When the first thing I see is that gigantic banner/picture, it's hard for me not to start making assumptions. But I check any and all presuppositions and read the post. Sadly, it didn't reveal a massive, nationwide distribution of Cheerwine like I had hoped. But oh well. Time to move on...

Except, not quite. Since I'm a bit curious about just who this person actually is, I click on her profile. I see she has three blogs (!), and that one of them is book-related. Books? I like books. So I decide to check it out. She hasn't updated her book blog in a while, but one of the posts is her review of 1984. Now here's where things get funny/mean (depending on how you look at it). As I read her review, I'm getting a sense of what she's like as a person: not an English major, but likes to read; probably doesn't have children, but I can easily see her as a mother; a calm temperament / not one to swear / probably religious... things of that sort. And I get an idea for a funny humor piece: Stay-at-home moms reviewing classic literature. People like Sarah Palin dissecting Orwell, or Faulkner, or the Brontes, or Joyce, or whomever. But then, before I even have time to draft a copy, she gives me all I need. What follows is my cut-and-paste amalgamation of her review.

I decided it was time for me to plow into George Orwell’s 1984... It was alright... but I won’t read it again. It was interesting to see the perspective of a man writing in the 1950’s predicting 30 years into the future. Jeez, talk about doomsday! 1984 tells us the story of a society where every move you make is monitored by Big Brother and the Thought Police and history is rewritten on a daily basis to conform to Big Brother’s ideology. Pretty spooky. Our antagonist, Winston, decides that he really doesn’t agree with the crap that’s being forced into his mind, and this book tells the tale of Winston’s exploration of defying Big Brother.

Okay. So far, so good. She confuses "protagonist" with "antagonist," but that's forgivable. Here's where I laughed out loud:

I think I would have enjoyed this book a little more if Orwell hadn’t launched into about 20 pages of pseudo-political commentary in the middle of the book. Psh! Who needs that crap! I just wanted to know what happened to Winston!

And then, and here is where I experienced a severe case of cognitive dissonance:

When I finished this book, my first thought was, "Alright, that’s over with." My second thought was, "Jeez, it’s a good thing that’s not REALLY how things are... I think..."

But really, if book reviewers started using words like "Psh!," I'd probably start reading book reviews.

Meditations on the Beginning and End of it all? Thoughts on life and death? Ruminations on the complexity -- and yet simplicity -- of how best to spend our brief, brief time on this world? Sure, Adam has covered some big subjects, but I think he's missing the single most important issue of them all: pirates. (He's also missing one or two Pauly Shore references. [On second thought, maybe the Pauly Shore reference drove people away.])

Yes, pirates. Have you heard the news lately? A hostage situation with pirates. Here's the thing. This is a serious matter. It could very well be a life-or-death situation. And yet, no matter how hard I try to convince myself of the severity of the situation, I get to the "pirate" part and all of that work is (excuse the term) blown out of the water. Sure, if I were to know one of the people held hostage then I would not take so kindly to the news. And I do feel for the hostages and their families. But our culture glorifies pirates. I hear the news and I immediately get a mental picture of Johnny Depp frolicking around on deck. Why can't I not think of Johnny Depp when I hear about pirates? Isn't that kind of fucked up?

Here's something else that might only bother me: (again with the colons!) I get freaked out when I'm driving and the person in front of me throws his or her cigarette butt out the window. I see the tiny red ember fall, hit the pavement, and burst into tiny sparks. And it's at that moment when my car passes right over the cigarette. I'm worried that, one day, the ember, the sparks, my car -- all if it will coalesce in a fantastic little explosion. Science people out there: Am I crazy, or is this a legitimate worry?

Finally, I'm well on my way (page 70) into Cosmos. I'm proud to report that it's much more enjoyable in my non-feverish state. I'll leave you with this quote from Isaac Newton: "I do not know what I may appear to the world; but to myself I seem to have been only like a boy, playing on the seashore, and diverting myself, in now and then finding a smoother pebble or a prettier shell than ordinary, while the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before me."

It’s kind of weird to think that we’re just thrown into the middle of this world. All this stuff has already happened, and we can’t change it. The stuff that has happened has landed us here, in a world full of hatred towards people who believe different things, full of a caste system (don’t act like we don’t have one) in which certain people are powerful and certain people aren’t, full of nations, lines dividing the earth into human defined areas. We weren’t there at the beginning; in fact, no one was there in the beginning. There was no “first person.” We evolved, and at some point the animal that became us started forming these things, these countries and power structures and belief systems, and now we’re stuck living with these systems that are thousands of years old. Hell, you can’t even find a person who has a cell phone that’s more than three years old because it’s outdated, but these things, these religions and social classes, we cling to these like there are no alternatives. Just because there was at some point a reason to create these things. Can you just imagine how corrupted good ideas can become over thousands of years? Shit, if you don’t clean your house for six months, it’s going to be a pigsty. Who the hell knows what anyone at the beginning of society was thinking. Even our founding fathers, people like to go on and on about what they would want when they’re arguing points like gay marriage and such. That was only a couple hundred years ago, but I guarantee you that if one of those guys walked in our country today, he’d hang his head and ask what kind of monster he’d created. We can’t act like we know what good intentions people had when institutions were founded, but we sure do like to try.

On the other side, imagine being here at the end. There was no first person, but there will be a last person. At some point either the universe will kill us off or we will. I’m guessing the latter. Imagine being the last person alive, a great red sky above and death all around. There is literally no one left alive to talk to, and you pass away. In that moment, when you’re gone, nothing that ever happened to the human race matters at all. All the petty disagreements, all the religious and ideological differences, all the technological advances, all the money, all the achievements and failures of humanity, it’s all erased in one great split second, because nothing that remains living on this earth gives a flying fuck about any of it. Weird to think about, right? And then who’s to say that some little lizard colony that survived the end of humanity by hiding under a rock won’t come out of hiding, find an entire world to play in, and grow, evolve, become intelligent. They’ll dig our bones out from under the earth and wonder what kind of animals we were. They’ll have their chance at running the place, and maybe they’ll do a better job than we did. Maybe they’ll grow to gigantic sizes, and instead of trying to form a society, they’ll run in packs, just trying to survive. They’ll rule the earth. Maybe a meteor will hit causing climate change that wipes out the entire population and makes a small mammal be the only thing to survive. And that’ll happen over and over and the sun will explode and the earth will be swallowed and in the vast infinite space and time that is the universe, none of any of that will ever have even happened. And maybe because of that we should all lighten up a little bit and just try to be happy and make others happy while we’re here.

Thus ends Adam’s strange, seemingly drug-fueled hippy days. Next time: Things that are illegal that shouldn’t be!

Well hello there. How are you? Me? I'm alright. You know, I've been better, I've been worse. But that's enough about me. Tell me about you. Tell me your hobbies, interests. What's your favorite food? Your favorite Stooge? How many times a day do you ask yourself "How the hell did I end up here?" That's enough about you. I'm glad we had this time together.

I have this file on my computer called "Blog" in which my ideas for blog posts age like a fine wine or a cheese of some sort that may either get better or moldy with age. Sometimes I open this file and I find things I forgot about, or things that don't make sense. Sometimes I open this file and I see things that I really don't feel like writing about. The point of this paragraph is to let you, dear reader, know that I have a computer and a file full of ideas, so I have no excuse for not updating this in so long. Thankfully, Brian has been here with an inordinate amount of posts to keep everyone enthralled.

If I may have a moment of your time for a sad note, loyal and dear friend, my grandfather's sister Maryann passed away last week after struggling with cancer for a long time. He said this, in a moment of sheer, unabashed loving emotion before breaking down in tears: "She was a fighter. I loved her. I loved her so much it’s hard to talk about. I loved her so much it’s hard to think about."

I feel like I should end this post there because it seems strange to keep writing after that, but I'll keep going, because we all have to move on sometimes, and sometimes the best way to do that is to just keep writing. So please allow me to continue.

Cam and I had a conversation in Red Robin a couple/few weeks/months ago (time is kind of a blur for me), and the gist of that conversation is I fucking hate working in this bullshit corporate environment where employees are nothing more than pawns for CEOs to use and throw away, a number on a sheet that either produces or doesn't produce, and if they don't produce, they can be crossed off the sheet and replaced by another number. I'm fucking tired of my people being laid off and "important people" getting bonuses for running their companies into the ground. I don't know what makes these people qualified to run a company, but the ability to run a company is definitely not a requirement anymore. I'm going to make up facts here, but did you know that 50 years ago CEOs made about 30-50 times more than their employees, and today CEOs make 600 times what their employees do? It's true! (It's not true) And what about bailouts? I'm sorry, but if I open a restaurant and I make shitty food and charge twenty bucks a plate and nobody comes to eat there, I go out of business, my employees lose their jobs, and I'm in the fucking poorhouse. However, if I run a big company that has lots of ties to Washington D.C. (which I'm assuming at this point stands for "damn corrupt"), I get lots of money with no oversight to do whatever I want with, which is a great plan because you saw how I burned through all the money my company had to begin with. I'm sick of all of this bullshit that's going on, and I'm starting to think it's time we just let everything that's been mismanaged to the point of failure JUST....FUCKING...FAIL. There are no extra lives in real life. Let the big companies go out of business, let the rich fat cats lose their money, let them live like everyone else for a while. Shit in this country has gotten out of hand, and I really think that a little leveling of the playing field wouldn't hurt anyone. And don't talk to me about job loss if these companies go out of business. If things keep moving in this direction we'll all be laid off to save money anyway, so why not take them down with us? Obama promised change. I want some fucking change.

Wait, that's not what Cam and my conversation at Red Robin was about at all. We talked about writing a TV show or a movie or something. We talked about being creative instead of working in the soul crushing corporate machine. It gave me hope that maybe one day I'll get fired, and I'll have time to be creative, and I'll have the freedom to move somewhere creativity flourishes, and I'll be able to make a living on my own terms, and I'll watch from the sidelines as corporate America burns and crumbles to the ground, and we realize that no job anyone does is worth hundreds of millions of dollars a year, and we see each other as human beings instead of numbers, and we realize that religion is a personal thing not to be foisted on everyone else, and we realize that all people, black, white, yellow, red, whatever other offensive terms I can think of, straight, gay, Christian, Jewish, Islamic, we're all just people trying to get by, and no one is any better or worse than anyone else, and we'll all just leave each other the fuck alone and let people do what they want to do, and the laws will change, and everything will rebuild into what society should have been in the first place: a bunch of people gathered in one place to celebrate life and live it without fear of being judged or hated. And I'll be there, writing things that make people happy. And I'll be happy. And you'll be happy. And that will never, ever happen, but it's kind of fun to think about.

Here's an interesting (?) fact I learned this weekend: If you use the auto-word select function for text messaging (you know, the one where you just hit the keys for the letters and the phone spits out the word you probably mean) and you want to say "Be at Brian's house," it will come up as "Be at asians house."

Here's an inside joke that you won't get unless you're one of three of my friends, but you might still find it funny if you like laughing at people you don't know: I ate at the Olive Garden this weekend for perhaps the third time in my life. It was, however, my first time eating there with Dan and Kim. Frankly, their behavior was downright embarrassing. (To let you in: Dan made this comment self-deprecatingly, to which my response was that I would blog about it. Here I am. And here I am, also proving the point that having to explain a joke is a surefire way to nullify its humor.)

On a serious note: I've used a colon in the first sentence of each paragraph.

But seriously: I had a nightmare last night. A substitute teaching nightmare. I was subbing a class and there was one kid who just wouldn't shut up. Moreover, he was cursing. I wanted to yell at this kid, to chew him out, but I physically could not raise my voice loud enough -- or sound angry enough -- to do so.

Another fact: I ended that sentence with three two-letter words that all end in an O. Unprofessional writers wouldn't even attempt shit like that.

But seriously again: People who interpret dreams, what the hell does my dream mean?

Yet another fact: Ending sentences with slant rhyme like that is a little thing my writing professors would call "bullshit." However, I like it. So there.

(In actuality: I don't think any of my writing professors have ever described anyone's writing as "bullshit." They are nice, generous people. People who wrote me recommendations to get into grad school. And for that, I should probably avoid slander.)

If you think this colon thing has gotten old: Too bad.

It's movie review time. I liked Adam's succinct review of Synecdoche, New York, so I'm here to dish out my own $0.02.

Choke: I did not enjoy this movie. This is strange for several reasons: 1)I like Sam Rockwell. Unfortunately, he can't carry the rest of the lackluster cast. 2)I like(d) the Chuck Palahniuk book on which the movie is based. Granted, it's been a while since I've read it (and I do fear -- dare I say it -- that I've somewhat outgrown Palahniuk), so maybe I'd have a different reaction were I to re-read the book. But, from what I remember, I laughed a lot reading the book. It was a well-crafted dark comedy. This movie, however, evoked maybe a few solid laughs from me, that's it. 3)The writer/director is an actor who has appeared in both Sports Night and The West Wing. As an actor, he does a fantastic job. But I guess maybe he should stick to acting, not writing and directing.

Synecdoche, New York: All right. I'm a bit biased here, as I'm a huge Charlie Kaufman fan. But here's the deal. The first time I saw this movie was last November in New York City with my mom. At that time, I felt cheated. I felt like it was far from his strongest work. I felt like, after all the wait (it was three years, I believe, since his last movie), that it was a letdown. However, I wanted to watch it again. As with all Kaufman movies, I knew it required a second viewing. Unfortunately, due to a limited release that never really turned wide, I never got a chance to until it came out on DVD. Watching it again, I've changed my mind considerably. Maybe it's a bit of a placebo effect: me thinking that a second viewing will be better, thus, the second viewing was better. Maybe it's because I knew what to expect, what to look for, things like that. But, whatever the reason, I'm willing to say that Synecdoche is on par with the rest of the Kaufman cannon. Certainly not his best (let's be honest, it's hard to top Adaptation or Eternal Sunshine), but a strong and worthy contender. If you like trippy mind-bending movies, I highly recommend seeing this one. Twice.

The Hospital: Paddy Chayefsky is another great screenwriter, in my opinion. George C. Scott stars in this movie from 1971. It's short, it's dark, and it's also quite funny. Here's the plot summary from IMDB: "Black comedy in which a suicidal doctor struggles to find meaning in his life while a murderer stalks the halls of his hospital." Another recommendation. This one not requiring two viewings to fully comprehend.

Dear longtime readers of The Irreverent Times Journal,

Hello. Nice to see you again, uh... friend. Sorry, I've forgotten your name. See, when you're as rich and famous as I am, you shake hand after hand, you see face after face, and you mock the poor. After a while, it all blurs together. The names, the faces, the derision towards people who still use dial-up (I mean, can you believe it???). So, please forgive me for not remembering you specifically.

Anyway, I'm just here to check in. I've entrusted Brian and Adam with the task of ghosting my autobiography. But it seems they've decided to disregard our contract entirely. Instead, they make jokes and social commentary. This blog, dear reader, is supposed to be about me! Me!

Forgive me. I don't believe I've introduced myself. I am the rabbit that, one day, ate some carrots and, thus, had good eyesight. That's me. And this is my story. At least, this was supposed to be my story. But, seeing as how Adam and Brian can't even generate more than 75 posts in a given year (Seriously? Just 75? Are you kidding me?), it looks like I'll have to do my own work here. Without further ado, my story:

I grew up on the streets. Not literally, of course, as cities are not conducive to small mammalian life such as myself. It was the streets of the deciduous forest. Needless to say, it wasn't easy. My life was carrot-less. I ate leaves, grasses, sprouts. I remember this one time that my older brother and I were fighting over a single leaf. He won, but he gave me half of the leaf, anyway. That's just the kind of guy he was.

I never saw my brother again.

That's the streets of the deciduous forest for you. Maybe if we lived in a coniferous forest things would've been different. A tropical forest -- but that's just silly. Forgive my foolishness.

I told myself that my life would be better. I wouldn't end up like them. I didn't have any friends or family at this point, mind you, so my conception of "them" was yet another deception. I turned to the normal outlets of the burnt-out bourgeois: alcohol, drugs, chewing tobacco. I was a mess. Until one day...

Carrots. Eyesight. Stardom. I was on the A list. I went to the fanciest restaurants. I slept with the prettiest women. I partied with Pauly Shore. Life was good.

And that, dear readers, is just the beginning.

Sincerely,

Rabbit


April Fool's Day! Everyone knows that's not the true story of the rabbit!

I often wonder if Billy Mays is going through an Existential crisis. Maybe his loud sales pitch is a defense mechanism to conceal his own inner-ennui at promoting yet another product about which he has diffidence. I mean, seriously, how many products can one person sell? Apparently more than 61, as Wikipedia (that ever infallible source) lists 61 products, but notes that "[the] list is incomplete." 61 products and still not complete?! Jesus!

What happens when the cameras turn off? What happens when Billy Mays goes home? Does he have a wife? Or a husband? (I'm not here to make assumptions about Billy.) I'm merely assuming that he sits quietly in a dumpster-salvaged armchair, slouched over and dimly illuminated by a single fluorescent light bulb hung in a droopy-looking floor lamp.

Or maybe he goes out and, like some magical elfin creature, bestows his products upon unsuspecting laymen. Maybe he runs around with a bottle of Mighty Mend It and repairs other people's fashion emergencies. (By the way: my birthday is coming up and, if you're looking for a gift, may I recommend the "Emily" hat used in the commercial on Might Mend It's main page. Gotta get me some of that bling!)

Who are you, Billy Mays?

Apparently there are people out there who think that in order to get stem cells for research, we have to go find an adorable baby, cut its head off with a dull, rusty knife, drink its blood, and spit the stem cells into a test tube.

The Obama administration is batting about .500 with me right now. I'm still struggling to see any kind of plan to get us out of this economic mess and I'm still struggling with the fact that they're all still such blatant "politicians." However, one of the main reasons I voted for the guy is because of his stances on social issues, and I count stem cell research as one of those issues. We have at our fingertips, in the very near future, cures for all kinds of diseases, and by allowing money to be spent on research in those areas, Obama is brightening the future for a lot of people, and that is a great thing.

I notice that people who are opposed to stem cell research are also opposed to abortion, which makes me think that people who oppose both of those see a clump of cells that will eventually be a human as more valuable than an actual human life. This is also exemplified by abortion clinic bombings, one of the most ironic things I've ever heard of happening. Maybe instead of pro-life, they should adopt the more suitable moniker "pro-eventual-life," because from what I can tell they really don't give too much of a shit about life after it pops out of the womb. They want us to not even think about disturbing a blob of cells, but after the baby is born to a mom that is single and can't afford to raise the child, they sure as hell don't want to have to pay taxes so that that mother can feed the kid. "Baby's born: Mission Accomplished! Now fuck 'em."

Also, how is it that so many people fit so neatly into the labels we've adopted as "liberal" and "conservative," or "republican" and "democrat?" Why is that so many people will believe ALL of the following: small government, pro-war, anti-abortion, anti-gay marriage, anti-taxes, pro-death penalty? Or the exact opposite of all those positions. But it's so much harder to find someone who believes in half of those things. Doesn't it seem like there's very little in common between most of those ideas? Yet somehow, people are more and more falling into little compartments and believing EVERY tenet of their chosen label. I think that's weird. All because I love abortion more than anything else in the world doesn't mean I need to be anti-war, does it? I guess now that I'm thinking about it, I fit pretty much into my little compartment too. Oh well. I must not know what I'm talking about.

I'm not ashamed to admit that I made a mistake doing the laundry the other day. I forgot that I left a tissue in one of my pant's pockets and sent it through the wash like that. What can I say? It happens. Very rarely, but it happens. So, my bad, washer. My bad, dryer. But, at this point, my punishment for said folly borderlines an 8th Amendment violation. It was bad enough when I opened the dryer and found a bunch of (what I can only attempt to describe as) "strings" of tissue mixed in with the rest of the clothes. It was annoying, but due. What's completely unjust about this whole mishap is that the "strings" have continued to recur in various pieces of laundry. I find them tucked inside (yes, inside -- how they got there is beyond me) my shirts or sweatshirts. They're hidden between socks. They're inside shirts. I really can't stress this enough. Bottom line: don't fuck around with tissues. Make sure you check your pant pockets before doing the laundry, OR ELSE.

Let's play Good Idea/Bad Idea. Good idea: This year, I'm going to read at least one non-fiction science book every two months. For January/February, I read Jerry Coyne's Why Evolution is True. I really wish I were the type of person who could read something and retain all the facts and arguments in the book forever. Because Coyne does a kick ass job of showing (spoiler alert!) why evolution is true. If you'd like a taste of this guy's writing style, check out the New Republic article I read that pointed me in Coyne's direction.

So that's the good idea. Now time for the bad idea. I wanted to get a head-start on my March/April book, Carl Sagan's Cosmos, but, unfortunately, I started reading it while I was sick after coming back from New Orleans. I say "unfortunately" only because, when you are in a feverish state, it's not exactly easy to focus on and/or follow Sagan's esoteric writing. Here's an example from page 2: "From an intergalactic vantage point we would see, strewn like sea froth on the waves of space, innumerable faint, wispy tendrils of light." A nice image, to be sure. But when I was cooped up in bed with a box of tissues next to me and an upper-respiratory nightmare, it didn't exactly have the same impact.

Still, I'm determined to finish it by the end of April. Any suggestions for future reading?

If you'll allow me to make the most solipsistic post I've ever made. (Two things: One, that's an incomplete sentence, I know. And, two, I never really liked the word "solipsistic," but I've also never really had a chance to use it, so I went with it. Apologies to others who dislike the word.)

Here's some shocking news that may make you laugh: I coach a high school tennis team. No, seriously. I know I joke a lot, but, for real, I'm coaching a high school tennis team. Me, the guy who had zero high school school spirit and just a tiny little bit of college school spirit. Also, the guy who's never exactly been sports-oriented. But here I am, coaching tennis.

My team consists of 14 players. They're a nice bunch. They're also atypical athletes, for the most part, which is what makes my job enjoyable. But as far as the skill level... We're certainly not the strongest team in the world. It's okay, though, because we go out there and the guys seem to have fun.

Today we played our second series of matches. Tuesday was our first round, and we lost horribly. Nine matches, and we lost all of them. The closest match was 4-10. (Instead of playing normal six game sets, they play an extra-long set to ten games.) We lost to a school that was #2 in the district last year. But that leads us to today: a match against a school that hasn't won a match in three years. Three years. Not a single match won. This should be a blowout, right? WRONG, fool. You are wrong and a fool for even entertaining such an idea. (In the interest of full disclosure, I, too, am a fool.)

The nine match breakdown goes like this: six singles matches and three doubles matches. My top 6 players play singles, then they pair up and play doubles. That's how it normally works. Today was a little different. Today was cold. Today was windy. And today my #6 player wasn't using his normal racket because he broke a string a couple days ago. During the warm up for the matches, he wasn't playing very well. He didn't seem comfortable playing with someone else's racket. So I suggested that the #7 guy switch with #6 for singles, but that #6 still play in doubles. This decision occurred quite literally at the last minute. But we went ahead with it.

The matches began and we were off to a bad start. My #1 and #2 players were not playing well. Their matches ended fairly quickly: 3-10 and 1-10, respectively. My #7 was also off to a rough start. He had never played a varsity match before, and I think the nerves were getting to him. I believe the score was 3-6 or 3-7 at some point. The good news was that my #3 and #5 were both ahead. #4 was having a rough start, but kept the game close -- he was never down more than two games. The next matches to finish were my #3 and #5, both of whom won. Meanwhile, something clicked with #7, and he started to kick some ass. He mounted an unexpected comeback. He evened it up at 8-8, then 9-9. Sadly, he ended up losing 9-11, but it was an epic recovery. At this point, my #4's game was still not over. However, he ended up losing 8-10. Recap: At the end of the singles matches, our opponent was up four matches to two. That left the doubles.

My #1 and #2 players are the most emotional players on the team. When they're playing well, they ride the crest of that euphoria. When they're not playing well, they get really down on themselves. After their losses, they both went to their own little area to be alone and seethe. I told them to forget about it, that the doubles match was going to be their redemption. They didn't care; they were cold and angry at themselves. But it was time to get the matches started. My pairs of doubles: #1 and #2, #3 and #5, and #4 and #6.

Since #3 and #5 both won their singles matches, it wasn't a huge surprise that the two of them together won 10-2. I was also happy to see that my #4 and #6 were playing well. They won their match 10-2, as well. That evened the overall match score to 4-4. It was up to my #1 and #2 pair.

They weren't playing their best. At one point, they were up 3-2. But they lost a series of games and I believe the score was 4-5 or 4-6 by the time the other two doubles matches ended. Things weren't looking good. The opponents had stronger serves and stronger net plays, but my guys were fighting back, little by little. Then, all of a sudden, my #1 and #2 players were able to turn things around. They broke their opponents' serve. They won their serves. It was 7-6, then 8-6, then 9-6. They lost the next game, but won on their serve 10-7. And we ended up winning 5 matches to 4.

This post is solipsistic not because I'm trying to convey an interesting story or brag about my (rather lackluster) coaching skills. I'm writing it so that I can remember the nervousness of that last doubles match and the eventual relief and excitement of winning an overall match. I've never done anything remotely close to coaching a sports team before, and I've never really understood how much other people invest of themselves in sports. But today, this afternoon, I got it. I understood. It was a feeling unlike anything I've ever experienced before, and I'm not yet ready to let it go.

A review: Synecdoche, New York:
Jesus Christ Charlie Kaufman, what the fuck was that?
(interpret as you will)

Taking a cue from Adam, technology seems to be the current topic of conversation. That got me to thinking what it would be like If Cell Phones Were Around During Key Points In American History:

Signing of the Declaration of Independence

A stifling hot July 4th. The room is packed with exhausted men, all listening to John Hancock.

JOHN HANCOCK: Let me be the first to sign it. I want King George to see my signature at the top of-

Thomas Jefferson’s ringtone, Yankee Doodle, goes off. He sheepishly pulls out his cell phone and silences the ring.

THOMAS JEFFERSON (whispering to those around him): Sorry. Sorry.

Louisiana Purchase

Robert Livingston and the Marquees de Barbé-Marbois sit in a French café, eating lunch and discussing the land deal.

LIVINGSTON: As you know, the United States is willing to offer you a great deal of money for New Orleans.

BARBÉ-MARBOIS (blowing him off): Yeah, yeah. Listen, we’re willing to give you all of the Louisiana territory. When we get back to the embassy we can discuss the specifics.

LIVINGSTON (shocked, then signals for the waitress. His voice cracking slightly): Check, please.

The waitress places the check on the table.

LIVINGSTON: This one’s on me.

BARBÉ-MARBOIS: Why thank you.

LIVINGSTON: No, thank you.

He glances the check over, then pulls out his cell phone.

LIVINGSTON (mumbling to himself): Fifteen percent of...

He looks up, notices Barbé-Marbois staring at him, then glances back to his cell phone.

LIVINGSTON: Twenty percent...

Westward Expansion

Lewis and Clark on the Oregon Trail. They’re at the top of a mountain, overlooking the vast western territory. Lewis checks his phone.

LEWIS: Shit.

CLARK: What?

LEWIS: I’m roaming again.

CLARK: Sucks.

LEWIS: You have service?

CLARK: Nah.

They both turn and look at Sacagawea, chatting on her phone.

LEWIS: We’ve gotta switch providers.

Lincoln Assassination

A text message from one of the patrons at Ford’s Theatre: “omg omg omg AL shot in head. ttyl.”

Warren G. Harding’s Affair with Carrie Fulton Philips

Mr. and Mrs. Harding are entertaining dinner guests. Everyone’s a little tipsy, if not more.

MRS. HARDING: Darling, hand me your phone. I want to show everyone pictures of Rex.

Harding hands over his cell phone. Mrs. Harding cycles through the photos.

MRS. HARDING: Here he is running around on the lawn. And here he is in the Oval Office. And this one...

The guests gasp. Mrs. Harding drops the phone.

HARDING: What? What is it?

Kennedy Assassination

In addition to the Zapruder footage, a Dallas local, one Edward Bartlet, captures the assassination on his camera phone. Bartlet’s angle reveals the true location of the assassin (or assassins). Unfortunately, because his video is blurrier than Zapruder’s, it becomes inadmissible evidence.

In reference to one of my previous posts about old technology being cool again, I've thought it over and changed my mind. Old is the new black! With that in mind, I'm coming out with some new technologies sure to get the kids excited.

I'm pleased to introduce my new summer line of togas. They're like sheets, but they have holes in them for your head and arms. No longer will you be burdened with having to match clothing, or put more than one piece of clothing on at a time. With the new togas, just throw one over your shoulder and head out on the town! You're sure to get noticed. Warning: Accidental nudity may occur.

Also, are calculators bringing you down? Would you like a new high-low-tech way to do your math? Well, I've been thinking, and I'm very excited to say that from now on I'll be offering the TI-00 abacus for all your mathematical needs. Just move the little beads from side to side, and somehow that's supposed to help you with math! WAY easier than pressing silly numbers and symbols on a little electronic thing. What do those even mean? WHO KNOWS!? With the TI-00 abacus, all you need to know is how to count. And how to use an abacus to do math. Warning: Batteries and instructions not included.

Do all those colors on TV hurt your brain? Do you fear all the bright colors and loud noises may give you an epileptic seizure? Well, tune to the new station ADTV to watch all new shows produced in new black and white, silent vision! Only two colors, with varying shades of gray, and no talking! Instead, take a break from all the noise and watch people talk, and then read what they just said on a card held in front of the camera! Warning: The ability to read is required to fully enjoy ADTV. And isn't reading totally awesome?

Speaking of reading, have you wanted to be a writer, but all the scribbling or typing has prevented you from doing it so far? Do you wish there was a more tactile way of getting your thoughts down for others to see? Well now you can, with my new Tablet and Chisel set! Just like Moses bringing down the Ten Commandments, you too can spend an ungodly amount of time writing a page worth of stuff. Just take the tablet, place it on the ground, and chisel your thoughts into it. Just think of all the fun stuff you could write! Warning: Tablet may weigh in excess of 50 pounds. Warning: Chisel should not be used as a weapon, though it would be really easy and fun to do so.

And finally, are you tired of pressing buttons on your cell phone? Are your giant, fat fingers inaccurate at best when you're trying to dial? Well guess what. I've solved your problems. Introducing the rotary cell phone! Instead of stupid buttons, you simply insert your fingers into a small hole in a circle, rotate that circle until you can't rotate anymore, and release! Your time dialing will be tripled, maybe quadrupled! And with today's crazy hustle and bustle world, isn't it nice to just take fifteen or twenty minutes to sit down and dial a phone? Imagine how relaxing that sounds. Warning: Text messaging not available on rotary cell phones.