Lost In Translation

Have you ever looked at someone and just thought, "Are you a dork in your country, too?"

I saw this Asian guy on campus today who (god love him) was all decked out nerd-like in a mismatched way with crazy bad hair and 80's glasses, and it hit me. This guy cannot be cool in his own country. Or can he? Is it possible for someone to be a complete goofus in one place and a total mack-daddy studcake in another? Could two cultures really view the same person in such a totally different way?

I'm not sure that's possible. But then again, he did have a girl. And there I was. Casting my judgment and working my joke angle on this guy. It reminds me of this particular song...

It goes something like, "I started a joke, that started the whole world laughing. But I couldn't see, that the joke was on me." Hmm.

This post started out funny in my head... and now I've been sabotaged by my own line of thought. Somehow the geeky guy has upstaged me. Stupid brain.

Mental Manufactory: A Stiff Drug Cocktail

Does your work or personal life require overexertion of emotional investment? Do you feel under-aroused when listening to others? Can you simply not get it up for other people when you need to?

Performance fatigue is not your fault. If it isn’t one thing, then by god, it’s another. Yes, tell me again how smart your child is. No, I didn’t realize that was every detail of your afternoon, but please continue. Sure, I want to hear all about the melodrama that is your train-wrecked life.

You no longer have to suffer in head-nodding silence. Ask your doctor about Liagra.

Liagra is a medical miracle that lifts your spirits, engorges your attention-focus areas, and brings to your lips the phoniest smile you could ever muster. Now you can achieve the erect emotional wherewithal you have always wanted without the mental fatigue of putting your mind into it. And the best part is, no one has to know you are faking your “Oh?” face.

Side effects may include making your face stick that way and inexplicable death. If your over-interest in other people persists for more than eight hours, consult your doctor immediately. Liagra should not be taken if you are emotionally imbalanced or Tom Cruise (which is partially redundant).


Boring and tedious people are everywhere. And as of now, killing them is still illegal. But that doesn’t mean you should have to fake your arousal on your own. Just a little white Liagra is all you need. It will be our secret.

Liagra is endorsed by Allcock and Dickerson.

iRant: Clearing the Air

Okay, everyone. Read closely, jot down some notes, and spread the word. I don't want to say or type this again...

People do not buy hybrid vehicles to save money.

(Read that sentence again and do a double-take. Did it sink in?)

Yes, they cost more than their non-hybrid counterparts or equivalents. Thanks, Captain Obviouses of the nation. I agree that you shouldn't buy such a car with your prime goal of safe-guarding your clutchpurse. But please, stop mentioning this little "tidbit" when the topic comes up, like you are so enlightened with your devil's advocacy.

Yet speaking of devil's advocacy, take note that the most expensive Pruis is around $30K, which is far less expensive than many larger troop transports and hoopties busting up our roads. But still. People don't buy hyrbids to save money. So shut up.

Yes, they save fuel. There are many cheaper non-hybrids out there that get fairly similar mileage per gallon, like the Toyota Yaris and Corolla. Honda Civics do well, too. And others. But that's only part of the reason people buy hybrids.

Focus, Sally. Pay attention.

People buy hyrbid vehicles because they are environmentally-friendly! While this seems to be a Captain Obvious statement itself, I'm continually disappointed when no one seems to remember this aspect of these cars. In my estimation, it's a big selling point.

And in this way, hybrids are statement cars. But not status symbols like Cadillac Pimpcalades and Hummer busses and Chrysler 300 land yachts. And to me, a statement car is far superior to a status car. We don't need to know how small your "friend" is or for what inadequacy you're compensating. Just go develop a drug habit and give the ozone a break. Or go work out until you look like a cartoon super-mutant.

Are we clear?

Final Thoughts

If you want to save money on fuel costs, check your tire pressure. They should be inflated to their safety maximum. Tires that are fully inflated can increase fuel efficiency by about 10-15%, according to a test run by Senior Automotive Editor, Mike Allen, of Popular Mechanics. Also, use your cruise control when possible.

Remember, it's not about having the most efficient car on the planet, it's about using what you have wisely.

And Another Thing...

I almost forgot. Nobody is allowed to continue to compare the price of premium fuel to standard, as if the price gap is a bank breaker. It's 20 cents, people. You can pretty much count on that. So in a 13 gallon tank, that's a huge $2.60 price difference at the pump.

Likewise, stop driving an extra five miles for fuel that's a whole 5 cents cheaper. You just saved 65 cents to drive farther, Dr. Economist. When you taking the trip to Disney on that sweet payola?

Now stop reading and look at that iced mocha latte frappuccino freeze you just bought. How much did you pay for that daily treat, hmm? Nuff said.

Shameless Plug 01

I was just thinking back on some of my favorite posts from the days of yore and feeling it was a shame they are buried in the nebulous archives of the blogosphere. To the realm of forgotten. I hope someone can invent a clever way to sift through this kind of material. Because so many bloggers out there have excellent past posts. How can we bring them back?

Labels can only do so much to categorize...

So my quick fix is a Shameless Plug! Self-promotion is the key to any successful purveyor, performer, pauper, or poet.

Anyway, after motoring home last night -- window down, elbow propped, caressed by the wind
-- I was reminded how much I love motoring through cities at night.

And it brought me back to one of my memorable posts that eventually spawned my Mythology of Life series.

So check if out: Night Motoring Through Cities

I've updated the music selection. The rest is preserved in its original packaging.

Motor on,
Army

What the Butler Saw

In one of my random and meandering web searches that probably included Google, Wikipedia, and XTube... er... I mean... um... other stuff, I stumbled across the phrase "What the Butler Saw." For some reason, it intrigued me. Don't ask why.

No, seriously. Don't ask me.

So I know what it refers to, but I'm curious what you all think it's about. Behave now... no Googling. Or more appropriately, don't Ask Jeeves what the butler saw. Hehe.

I'm so funny...

Mental Manufactory: Syndrome Syndrome

Do you suffer from chronic time-wasting?

Do you find yourself putting off important tasks until the last minute?

Do you put the "pro" in procrastination?


If you answered "Yes" to any of these questions, you may already be one of the millions of Americans that suffer from Dragging Feet Syndrome.

Dragging Feet Syndrome is a debilitating set of non-specific symptoms that include restless thought, distraction, idleness, and procrastination enabling behavior tendencies.

Now is the time to actually do something. Now there is both help and hope.

Ask your doctor about Azingear. This drug works at the laziness sites in your brain to stimulate miserly activation cells. Or something like that. Does it really matter? We've probably just created a clear capsule chock full of neat sugar beads so you think something is really going on. Or we're poisoning you for our profit. But nevertheless, your well-being is at stake. Dragging Feet Syndrome is a gateway condition that may lead to such scary things as Volitional Affective Syndrome or Productivity Disruption Disorder. And that's when the bad shit goes down.

Why wait?

Do you want your family and friends to hate you?

Because they may already...

Don't join the Future Procrastinators of Tomorrow. Get your Azingear today. And find yourself on the road to recovery, consumerism, and drug-driven happiness once again.

iRant: Two Wrongs Making Right?

I'm a video gaming fan and spent more than my fair share of time at arcades as a teenager. You know, back in the day when arcades were at their prime. We're talking the whole arc of Pole Position to Rampage to Street Fighter and the Mortal Kombats. And so so many more. Then, much like video killed the radio star, console stations killed the arcade star. An era ended.

But hark! The arcade spirit has been revived, possibly in the worst way conceivable. That's right, I'm here to diss the "participation" games that boggle the mind and bog down my strength -- Dance Dance Revolution and Guitar Hero.

First off, I want to say that Nintendo is totally immune to this rant. First off, they were kicking it cool way back in the 80's with the Nintendo Power Pad, that orange gun, and the Power Glove. And now they revolutionized gaming with the Wii console, which even old folks enjoy. Bless you, Nintendo for doing your own thing : )

Compare that to Dance Dance Revolution. Which is basically Exercise Exercise Revolution. And while this country desperately needs such a thing, let's call it what it is. Cuz I've seen people stomping around on those things. And that ain't dancin', Sally. Not only is it a Power Pad rip-off, but people already lacking rhythm can muster up the perceived confidence and hope that they can bust a move. Problem is, off the dance pad, you'll look like (more of) a jackass doing your new-age hopscotch. I'd even take line-dancing over this, which is saying a lot. Aaaaaand I just vomitted in my mouth.

And damn you Best Buy for prominently featuring Guitar Hero in every single store you operate. I can't browse new CD's or movies without having to elbow past the lurking crowds of Guitar Hero on-lookers. And I can't decide what's more lame - playing the game, or being fascinated by watching someone play the game. First off, there's nothing to watch, except a Star Wars "Long, long time ago..." scrolling representation of "guitar tabs." Wow. Moving sheet music. C'mon, people! Someone has managed to make air guitar MORE lame and profit from it! Which is the basis of capitalism, sure, but I don't have to like it! Secondly, guitars have strings, not four giant colored buttons -- that's called a toddler's toy. Which is probably the aisle of Toys R Us where that faux-tar belongs.

So I've decided the only way to respect these games and their gamers is if someone can master them both... simultaneously. That's right, I propose Dance Dance Guitar Hero as the next sensation. People must coordinate guitar moves whilst dancing out a certain pattern... whilst on drugs. That's right, if you really want to shred like a rocker, you need to be on a poorly balanced regimen of booze, pills, and blow. Then you can bust out your phrenetic "Dance Fever" moves until you smash your guitar into your equipment, cuss out your fanbase, and have casual sex with several groupies. Then you wake up hammered, apologize on national television about your inappropriate behavior, and declare you are going into healing.

Then, and only then, will you be a true Dance Dance Guitar Hero. Otherwise, get the hell out of my way at Best Buy. Dorks.

The Rabbit-Hole to Home

Sunday I fell into a vortex.

I found myself in a sea of colors and shapes. They appeared in combinations and forms that were dazzling. The gravity was keeping me there, but I didn't fight it, no. I was content. I was elated. I was visiting Ikea.

Every showroom was a presentation. A possibility. My bedroom could look like that. I could be sitting on this couch amidst the accent lighting and the artistic color patterns and shelves and cabinets that seemed to float in mid air. My packing problems were solved. My spatial understanding of the world erased and redrawn. Each showroom, a promise of novelty. Each showroom, another finished puzzle in which all pieces snapped perfectly. If I could fit all those pieces in my car, surely I could complete my puzzle back home.


But why leave? When I entered the model apartment of a mere 377 square feet, I thought it was an illusion. How could they complete a living space like that? It was engineered perfection, every nook with a purpose or a function. Space had been mastered. I wanted to kick these strange people out of my home, close it off from the showroom, take it away and put it in my ideal neighborhood. It was mine now. MY-kea.

Jay and the Bus

It's high time I let you all in on my newest musical and movie obsession, which are co-linked, co-mingled, and co-ol.

A while back I had read up some buzz on an indy flick called "Shortbus." Being a fan of good indy films, I couldn't resist checking it out. Of course, I now know why this film never was or will be mainstream. Because it's too good. But more to the point, it has unsimulated sex scenes that don't leave the imagination much material.

So I know this isn't everyone's movie. And that's fine. But a few things to dispell as readers will no doubt jump to conclusions (like the floor game in "Officespace"). First off, it's not softcore porn. Porn has sex for the sake of having sex. Or for arousal purposes. This movie doesn't use sex in that way. It's difficult to describe, but I honestly cannot imagine this movie without it. It would feel like a cop-out. And I just realized I could rearrange that sentence to come up with "cop a feel." Gutter mind.

Serially though, it's an honest portrayal of sex. From the couples counselor who has never had an orgasm to the dominatrix who just wants a real connection with another person, there's honesty in this movie. And the sex isn't pretty. It's messy, it's awkward, and it doesn't always end with two people showing their "O" faces in a simultaneous climax (because that happens so often). And now I've made it sound like this movie is nothing but intercourse. Which is not true.

The characters and the dialogue have heart. My favorite person in this movie is Jay Brannan, who plays Ceth. There's something so inviting and charming about Jay. His smile and his laugh can ease my darkest mood. And then I found out he's a musician. The song he sings in the movie (Soda Shop) is intercut with one of my favorite scenes because it's funny and touching. It's just about a conversation between three people. Jay's voice sets the mood, and it's beautiful. After the movie was over, I hunted him down on the internet and found out he has a ton of videos on YouTube and songs for purchase on i-Tunes (including "Soda Shop"). God bless modern distribution technology.

There's so much more I love about this movie. It's set against this rather memorable moment in recent history (I remembered it, at least), but I won't give it away in case you want to see the movie. Some of the best lines go to Justin Bond, who runs the sex salon called Shortbus, a place for the gifted and challenged, as he puts it. The soundtrack really rocks in a "Garden State" kind of way, only with less-known artists. A few highlights include "Language" by Scott Matthews and "If You Fall" by Azure Ray. And of course, "Soda Shop" by Jay.

This movie really affected me. It made me think about a lot of things. And I feel the decision to have explicit sexuality was a way to make the actors, and thus, the characters more vulnerable and accessible. And that takes guts and guile for those folks. And it makes the experience more real in a way the mainstream can't reach. I appreciate it for that.

So check out my new Fake Boyfriend Jay! I've included links to a few of my faves:

- Body's a Temple (official video)

- On All Fours (with some Jayspeak)

- Soda Shop (from live show)

- Blowin' in the Wind (Bob Dylan cover)

The Intersection at the End of the World

Okay, if I have to creep forward into the middle of an intersection just to see around someone’s SUV Monstrosity so I can make a right turn, I’m going to scream. Leave the land barge at home, you jackoff. Or better yet, why don’t you pull up to stop lights, throw your tank into Neutral, drop your foot on the accelerator, and pump all those noxious fumes into the air. Maybe we can combat global warming with global dimming, and all will be well, so long as American Idol isn’t interrupted by some far-off school shooting. Oh look, a celebrity did something human. Let’s watch!

So this non-targeted rant was just a precursor for what is truly pissing me off. Stupid people who think this idea of global warming is a hoax, farce, and so forth by liberal scientists and God-less tax raisers. In case you’ve missed it, we don’t live in the Dark Ages anymore. Well, maybe we really do.

I mean, basically almost every country in the world (160 to be exact) has signed and ratified the Kyoto Protocol. That basically means that all those countries will play by the rules and take active steps to limit their greenhouse gas emissions. But wait, the two biggest gas bags of the world haven’t gotten on board with reality. China, for one. No shock. And guess what, President Stay-The-Course won’t ratify the treaty either. Because China’s exempt. Yeah, that's mature. You know, it’s like, “Billy dudn’t have to wash up before supper, so why should I hafta?”

Way to lead the world there, Jackwad. Isn’t this country supposed to be about progress, leadership, and moral values? I guess morality doesn’t extend to how we treat this planet. You know, our true Mother. I guess morality doesn’t extend to respecting our elders, like the oceans, the forests, the drinking water, and the limited natural resources. I suppose morality is reserved only for phony wars, political favors, and Jesus. And if you don’t believe me, here’s an insight. About 150 of those employed in the Bush Administration are graduates of Regent University, founded by the illustrious Evangelical profiteer Pat Robertson himself. Can I get an Amen? Or can I get a Holy Shit!? Maybe we’re being run by a shadow Theocracy after all. And in this Theocracy, holy water has been replaced with holy sweet crude.

But let’s get away from conspiracy and politics and focus on some facts. The statistics are (of course) my own brand of generalization:

- We are dumping assloads of CO2 into the atmosphere.
- We are sucking oil out of the earth at a continually increasing rate.
- Glaciers are disappearing at a more-than-glacial pace.
- There are islands of trash (flotsam and jetsam) floating around in the oceans.
- The oceans are becoming more and more acidic.
- The Southern Ocean “sink” is literally clogged. It can absorb basically no more CO2 at the current rate.

No logical person can dispute these observable events. And how many can we brush off as non-human influenced? You may like the politican spin, but I prefer to get my spin from a know-it-all. Like a non-partisan atmospheric scientist who didn't graduate from Messiah College. I'd rather hear ideas from someone who's paid to empirically investigate, not someone who's paid to push agendas. Everyone take their places and stay out of shoes you cannot fill.

I take pause to look around me and want to break down. People have the audacity to pretend there's no issue? Or better yet, claim conspiracy? And who would do such a thing? Loyalist Conservative Republicans? The same people caught in a big fucking bottomless pit of quagmires? The same people running this country…into the ground?

And who’s letting them? Consumers. Producers. SUV drivers. Did you know that states with emissions checks for automobiles are unable to properly test the Toyota Prius? And why’s that? Because the Prius cannot be registered by the instruments. That’s right, the car fails the test because it’s a super ultra low emissions vehicle (SULEV). It emits almost nothing. Look at the emissions guides on the sticker next time you check out a new car. Look at the Chrysler 300. Or the Lincoln Navigator. Or my favorite, the aptly named Nissan Armada. If you choked at the abysmal results, maybe it wasn’t surprise that strangled you. Perhaps it was a smog cloud.

So call the Prius ugly and its driver a hippy. And call the person who buys into reality a conspiracy theorist. And call the person who carpools, takes the bus, or finds ways to limit consumption, an idealist. But call the people who ride their bikes when they can (you know, that Zero Emissions Vehicle (ZEV) you have in the garage)... call them contributors to a healthier society. And if it saves a few dollars by not consuming gasoline, I’d say this sounds like a policy any conservative would get behind, right? Wrong.

Because we don’t have those kind of conservatives in power. We don’t have those kinds of conservatives as the majority of the American consumer public. I’m talking about the fiscal conservatives. The conscientious spender. You remember them don’t you? Along with the dodo bird? What we need to spend more of is time. Time spent thinking about the decisions we make. Because the lure of shiny objects is blinding. And the deep pocket of credit debt is a siren’s song. And It’s calling us to shore, but worry not about running aground. For the shores are eroding and the glaciers are melting in an acidic cocktail stirred by super-hurricanes. We won't stop until our existence is the shithole movie that was "Waterworld." And that, friends, is one sobering possibility.

So drink up, whilst you still can. Because the next war will not be fought over oil. It will be fought over drinking water. Soon, that $2.50 bottle of water will be little more than the mirage in the desert.

Here’s to you, global warming non-believers. Your ignorance is bliss.