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Posts for the date of Friday, April 19, 2002
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posted by Gary O'Brien at 1:50 PM |
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Remember how I made a joke yesterday about the planets lining up and how scientists coined the term "neato" for it?
Check out the quote from uber-science guy Richard Schuler in today's St. Louis Post Dispatch.
But Schuler, an adjunct faculty member at UMSL, sees no over-arching significance in the celestial show.
"It's just kind of cool," he said.
See? I'm not an idiot! Well . . . not always.
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posted by Gary O'Brien at 11:21 AM |
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Hi kids! Just wanted to let you know that I've installed a handy-dandy tool to let you know when I update the page. Just pop your email in the box on the side of the page and it'll email you to let you know that we've got an update. Plus, you'll get a preview of the glory that is the crap I put on this page.
Enjoy! And remember, don't let the monkey fool you.
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posted by Gary O'Brien at 9:15 AM |
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I don’t want to work. I want to bang on the drum all day.
Why? Because it makes neat sounds and I can keep time with the clock.
Bang, whack, bang.
Seriously, I’ve been working on this one task (for nine projects, mind you) for a few weeks and I’m not sure my brain can handle it anymore. I think it may actually be turning to jelly. Headline:
MAN DIES OF JELLY BRAIN, WIFE EATS TOAST
I imagine, however, that it would be buried on page 12 of the automotive section. I just don’t think I’d rate front page, despite the fact that my brain turned into a condiment that should have been refrigerated.
Clearly I’ve been bitter lately. I’m not sure why. It may have something to do with my caffeine consumption. (Which, I might add, I was supposed to cut down on, according to the doctor, if I wanted to end the reign of GERD in my stomach. Hey, that sounds like an evil corporation in a Sci-Fi flick. GERD seeks world domination through the ruin of the gastrointestinal system of humans. It starts as a burning. Then you can’t sleep and then you puny humans die. AHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Or something. This is a long parenthetical statement. I wonder if I wrote an entire book as a parenthetical statement, would you be able to discount the work in its entirety as a side comment?)
The other day my wife came home and watched me make a cup of coffee. For some reason I decided to add a few scoops of International Coffee. I hate the stuff, but it makes a good cup of coffee taste like a treat.
“What are you doing”, my wife asked, eyes wide in terror.
“I’m adding this to my coffee. For flavor, you know.”
“That IS coffee. That has caffeine it too! You’ve just made your one cup of coffee into two!”
“Duh! Did you think I was doing it to remind me of our Parisian waiter Jean-Luc?”
She’s currently not speaking to me because she thinks I’m going to die of a heart attack right about . . . now.
Headline:
MAN DIES OF HEART SEIZURE FROM INTERNATIONAL COFFEE MIX: WIFE RUNS OFF WITH JEAN-LUC
That might make the front page.
Well, this weekend is the big birthday. 29. I’m supposed to be freaked out because I’m nearly thirty. But I’m not. Hell, it’s only age. The fact that my youth is over is greatly exaggerated. In fact, I relive my youth every day of my life. I may have become a responsible adult, but I can still wear Mickey Mouse underwear with the best of them.
You didn’t need to know that did you?
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Posts for the date of Thursday, April 18, 2002
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posted by Gary O'Brien at 8:07 AM |
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Gary's Pate o'Bitterness Pt. 4
Hang on to your hats. Rumor has it that we are in for a celestial event heretofore unheard of in our times. For the next few weeks Jupiter, Mars, Mercury, Saturn and Venus will be aligned.
I hope somebody fixes the crystal before it’s over. Otherwise the evil Skekses will last forever.
Apparently this will not happen again until 2040, which in celestial terms is equal to an eye blink. To us mortals, however, it’s very exciting. This just doesn’t happen.
I see you’re having a hard time understanding this. Okay, I’ll put it into terms we can all understand.
Imagine you and your coworkers decide to go out for lunch and you all agree on an eatery on the first attempt.
That’s how amazing this is!
Actually, beyond how cool it’ll look in the sky, this isn’t all that scientifically interesting. It’s not like a supernova or a comet passing by or one of those asteroids that NEARLY MISS THE EARTH (but we tell you two days later). Those are SIGNIFICANT events. This is a minor event, for which astronomers have coined the term “neato.”
How insignificant is it to those of us who don’t believe that with this alignment we’ll suddenly be able to converse with our dogs? Well . . . it’s like seeing four red cars in a row on the highway. Statistically, odds are against it happening are high. Realistically, it’s jut not all that interesting.
Essentially what we’re saying is this, “AH! All the planets are on the same plane! AH!” It looks cool, but means very little.
Yes, I’m railing against this because it isn’t science. It’s the Universe’s ability to make a straight line. Nature has proven, time and again, that it is capable of coloring inside the lines. Yet we get excited about this.
OOOH! Planets in a line! Wow!
Oooh! A vehicle that can travel 15 miles on 5 cents of energy that could let us become a society based on intermediate distances rather than being forced to choose between walking or driving! Wow! A revolutionary mode of transportation! Oh, it’s just a friggin’ scooter.
Yeah, well. . . . Dean Kamen’s brain could kick your ass.
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posted by Gary O'Brien at 8:06 AM |
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Gary's Pate o'Bitterness, Pt. 3
“I agree with you in principle . . .”
No you don’t. What you do is you agree that morally what I’m proposing is correct, but you don’t want to do it because you want to reap the benefits of what is against what you say are your principles.
It is impossible to agree with someone in principle. That means you agree in thought but not in action. That’s not an option. If your actions don’t support your beliefs then you are a simple hypocrite.
And I say “simple” in the meanest way possible.
This phrase is a cliché designed to allow pseudo-intellectuals and ne’er-do-wells to acknowledge that they know their actions are morally incorrect, but provides them with an excuse to continue doing so.
“Mr. Manson, murder is wrong.”
“I agree with you . . . in principle.”
“Oh, okay. You can go now. My bad.”
It doesn’t work that way. There is no get out of jail free card on principles. Either you agree or not.
In fact, if you don’t agree then say so. I’d prefer the reasonable debate to your rolling over and then not backing up your beliefs. You smarmy weasel.
Or maybe you don’t understand the word. Maybe you think, “Principle” is “Principal.” And you agree with me in the sense that you agreed with Dr. Russell in sixth grade that it was wrong to hide in the girls’ bathroom.
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posted by Gary O'Brien at 8:06 AM |
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Gary's Pate o'Bitterness, Pt. 2
Recently somebody said to me “the media serves us our news like a fast food meal. Get it quick and finish it.”
I agree with her. If you get your news from television. You see, television shows only have so much time allotted to them in order to tell you about the day’s events. And, guess what? Usually that news is more complicated than “bomb go boom and people go ow.” Sadly, the television news only has space for that sort of reporting.
Plus, television is a visual medium. Ifin’ they don’t have pitchers to back up they’s words they ain’t gone to talk ‘bout it.
I’m going to let you in on a little secret. There is something called a “newspaper.” In this newspaper, there or stories about the news. And the stories are written in order to give you more depth and insight into the events. Neat huh?
There’s a draw back, though. The pictures in the newspaper don’t talk for you (except in the funnies) and you might actually have to practice your reading comprehension in order to understand what is being said.
I’ll help you with this handy-dandy guide to big words and phrases in the paper.
Suicide Bomber – splodeydope
Congress – Law Hookers
Collateral Damage – Oops. Bomb go boom in the wrong place.
Flat Tax – It’ll never work.
Liberal Bias – Just blame it on Berkeley. Or those damn hippies raising their kids to be fruity nuts.
Pop Music – Don’t bother. It’s tripe. Once, in the sixties and seventies, “pop” meant something. Now the word only means “Corporate Crap.”
Good luck with your assignment. Go read the news. It may be more work than the fast food version of news that you’re used to, but you just might find it’s worth it. You might be a little more informed.
And, no, USA Today does not count as a newspaper. That’s Weekly Reader for adults.
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posted by Gary O'Brien at 8:04 AM |
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Gary's Pate o'Bitterness, Pt. 1
You know, I’m all for safety. Honestly I am. I think safety is a really good thing. It allows you to not get hurt and you don’t hurt others.
All around, it’s a great thing. I like traffic lights, safety nets. I like seatbelts and bagel cutters. Outlet covers are great. I think airbags really save lives. I also believe that toothless dogs will lead us to a safer society.
However, I’m concerned about where safety concerns are taking us. At what point do we say, “No. Technology won’t help. We must stop what we’re doing because the action itself is not safe. It has nothing to do with the tools of the activity.”
What am I talking about? Well let me explain.
I was at the grocery store last Saturday. It was a lovely day outside and we decided to have some fresh corn with dinner (on sale at Schnucks and very tasty. Wish I could meet the guy who was responsible for making the decision to stock the racks with this tasty agricultural treat.)
So I was looking at the corn, peeling back the leaves and silk to find the perfect kernels that would best bring for the flavor of summer freshness into my mouth.
“How do I know which kind to choose,” the guy said next to me.
I gave him the Travis Bickle, “You talkin’ to me?” look. He seemed to respond.
“Do I want white or yellow? Which is better? What kind should I get?”
“Well,” I said, “White is a little sweeter and crispier. It has a taste that is a little bolder than the yellow. The yellow is a nice traditional corn, and you can’t really go wrong.”
He turned his head and looked at me like I was insane. That’s when I noticed it. The earpiece in his ear attached to the wireless phone. Luckily it was the kind that was just a wire sticking out of his ear. Not the, “Hello, I’m a Time Life Operator” variety. I smiled and just continued to talk to the corn as if it were my original companion.
“But your widdle siwlk make you vewy hawd to eat. Doesn’t it little corny?”
Yes it does.
So, not that it’s dangerous to drive while talking on the phone, we have to deal with people who appear to be talking to themselves. What kind of world do we live in? I remember the days when a reasonable and sane person could separate himself from the crazies based on the fact that he alone knew when NOT to speak. We were able to make our rash judgments and sift out our stereotypes within a fraction of a second.
Now we have nothing. The schizophrenics have won. They’ve become virtually indistinguishable from the rest of us. I’ll bet Brian Wilson is walking around right now on the phone with Mike Love saying, “See, you miserable, bald prick? Other people hear voices too! Except their voices talk back!”
Of course, where will we stop? Other safety problems while driving are: Eating, reading, shaving, putting on make up and turning around to hit your kids. I have seen all of these things occurring. I suppose that sexual acts are also an issue, but I pretend that doesn’t happen because I might buy that person’s car someday. Ew. I always wondered what those stains were.
But I digress. What sort of technological innovation are we going to get next? An auto-eating machine that shovels McDonalds into your mouth for you? A seat extension that you can mount your shaver to that memorizes the contours of your face and shaves you while you drive?
Or maybe we shouldn’t be talking on the phone when we drive. We’re all guilty of it and yet. . . it’s so easy to do.
“Honey! I’m about to turn the corner! Open the door!”
Or, maybe we all need to slow down a bit. Stop worrying about how quickly life is passing us by and start enjoying those moments that we rush through. Maybe, instead of putting our make up on in the car we can wake up a few minutes earlier and do it leisurely at home. Maybe we can shave in the shower?
And maybe we can eat dinner with our families.
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Posts for the date of Wednesday, April 17, 2002
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posted by Gary O'Brien at 8:22 AM |
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Ugh. I have just had no interest in communication lately. I have emails that have gone unanswered in my inbox for at least a month. I look at them and figure that I’ll answer them eventually, or the person will die and I won’t have to worry about it.
In the end, everyone will die. If I die first, then I’m exonerated. If the intended recipient dies first then the grudge is dropped.
I mean, really, to carry a grudge into the afterlife is pretty petty, don’t you think? What would they be thinking? You’re dead. Get over yourself. Jeez. If I were dead, I’d be investigating all that meant. If a dead Indian can inspire Jim Morrison, then I want to be the dead spiritual advisor to someone.
“Oh Gary, my dead spiritual advisor, what should I do?”
”Change the station to channel 8. ALF is on.”
I just haven’t really wanted to talk to anyone of late. I’m being stingy with my thoughts. Unless, of course, those thoughts are pointless.
For example. Why the hell does my next-door neighbor vacuum ten times a day? I’m all for cleanliness, but this borders on OCD.
Another. Why does my other neighbor think it’s acceptable to bear her midriff? Even her doctor doesn’t want to see her midriff.
Another. The girl who lives downstairs appears to have a child that slips into a time vortex. Sometimes he exists. Sometimes he doesn’t. Perhaps he has powers that are beyond my comprehension. However, he may be trying to escape his skanky mother and her tattoo on the small of her back and the back of her neck. Sometimes he looks at me with saddened eyes as if saying, “Do all moms wear Daisy Dukes and tube tops? Help me! She smokes when she changes my diaper. I’m going to get cancer and diaper rash at the same time.”
That was mean. Ah hell, who cares. Anyone else want to be attacked? I’m in a mood. Hmmmmmmmmm. Who else sucks?
Hey, I did see something uplifting yesterday. A young woman had a flat tire on our street. As I was walking out to bring her a phone or offer her a ride to get help (I have an infant . . . not much else I could do on a hot day) a young man walking his dog offered to help. 45 minutes later, she had her spare tire on and the guy just walked away. The clearly didn’t know one another. That made me feel good.
Anything else? Well, I turn 29 on Sunday. No big deal. I bought my own present by accident this year. Looking forward to that. New Elvis Costello on Tuesday. That’s cool. Wife said I could preorder the Lord of the Rings DVD today, even though we’re going to be buying another version in November (today’s will be the original cut of the film. November’s is a director’s cut. That’s important.)
Oh, and I’m having Gertrude wired for a null suit. Figure she might need to survive in a vacuum if those morons in the Middle East can’t figure out a way to stop killing one another.
I may be back later today. I’ve heard so many stupid comments lately that I have to say something . . . Or should I say, I must make fun of others.
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Posts for the date of Tuesday, April 16, 2002
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posted by Gary O'Brien at 5:21 PM |
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To blog or not to blog, that is the question.
Just decided not to today. Why? Because I'm doing other stuff. Like investigating the possible side effects of relaxing and enjoying down time.
I'll let you know how the experiment goes.
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Posts for the date of Monday, April 15, 2002
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posted by Gary O'Brien at 7:59 AM |
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I have nothing to write about today, which, by the way, just proves I lead a boring life.
We watched a depressing movie on Friday and drank some beer on Saturday. It was good beer. The sad thing is, we didn’t need it. The Wife and the Friend and I were slaphappy before we even opened the first bottle. Halfway through it, the concept of hiccups was hilarious.
The sad thing is, I had more fun sitting at my house drinking beer from a bottle than I’ve had out in a true social environment for a long, long time. We laughed and laughed and laughed. It felt good. We didn’t get hammered or anything. Hell, I don’t even think we drank enough to get “drunk.” It was a much-needed release.
Sometimes we all forget how stupid life is. We immerse ourselves in stories of teens blowing themselves up, cancer-causing agents in the water, teen pregnancy and what not; that we forget how moronic and pointless all this seems to us sometimes.
I remembered on Saturday. We sat and giggled and snorted and made fun of our neighbors. Then we got tired and everyone left.
Granted, Friend and I had to spend an hour outside discussing workable urban planning first, but that’s beside the point.
We were stupid for a change. It gave us a new outlook.
I feel recharged. Therefore, I’m ready to go back to regular life and be worried about war, pestilence and David Hasselhoff.
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