Squid Pro Quo

It's the End of the World as We Know It

2014-05-07T16:47:00.001-07:00

The University of Arizona is about to destroy the legal profession.

The University of Arizona is about to save the legal profession.

And it's all thanks to this little sheet of paper.

Find out why the world as we know it changed forever today after the jump.

The U of A offering a BA in Law is both revolutionary and old hat. Perhaps a little bit about the history of the legal profession in America is in order. Pop quiz, hot shot! Where did Abraham Lincoln, Clarence Darrow and William Howard Taft go the law school? Go ahead, I'll give you a second to Google it and spoil the surprise...

Nowhere. That's where. It used to be, in this country, that the legal profession was treated the same as a trade. So, essentially, the process you went through to become a lawyer was the same as the process to become a mason, a carpenter, a barber, or a doctor. No actual formal degree was required.

Wait, what?

Truth. Both law and medicine did not require formal education. I mean, we're talking 18th century here, so the term "medicine" is somewhat deceiving when the primary method of treatment for anything is amputation and burning. So, the requirements for being a surgeon and a barber were not dramatically different. No. Seriously. Against that back drop, it is a bit less strange that formal education was not required for law. Actually, against ANY back drop it shouldn't seem that strange. First, it wasn't as if people were allowed to run around, randomly claiming to be lawyers, and executing wills and such. From colonial times, America did have a certifying public board for law, just as other trades did. That's the whole point of "the bar." To ensure someone can actually practice law. Second, the law in early America was a little simpler. There wasn't quite the morass that has evolved from being a fully captured system. But that's for another article.

Entitled "How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Banking Industry or Else"

Then, in the early 1800s, as the wealthy felt that the whole process of apprenticing and clerking and all that was hard and smelled bad and dramatically cut into their "subjugation of minorities" time, they sought out a more formal educational process. Oxford, and other fancy-shmancy schools in England, were already offering legal education at the time, but that education was more geared towards the philosophy and academia of law. So, some of the more prestigious institutions in America began offering their own bachelor of law courses, often times incorporating a more "practical" element to the educational process. This new legal degree began to gain popularity throughout the 19th century.

There was a problem, however, in that it was difficult for schools to teach the academics of law along with the practical components and the general education necessary for a decent college degree. The solution? Schools started offering law degrees as doctorate degrees around the turn of the century. That allowed schools to focus on the legal aspect of legal training, with the assumption that the rest of it was already taken care of. Also, you know, they could charge more for doing less.

This is why Lincoln and Darrow could be lawyers without ever graduating college and how Taft could serve in pretty much every legal position feasible with only a bachelors. They all predated the trend of the Juris Doctor. Schools continued to bicker back and forth over whether law should be a JD or a Bachelor's for many years. But, eventually, the JD became the universally applied law degree way back in the ancient days of the early 1970s.

A period when human civilization was dominated by elaborate ceremonial face paints and strange, deafening instruments

You see, UA's claim to be the first school to offer a Bachelor's in Law is a bit misleading, it really should be:

University of Arizona to Offer Nation’s First Bachelor of Arts in Law Since Polyester Stopped Being a Thing

Of course, it's not just as simple as turning the clock back. A lot has changed since the JD became the predominant legal degree. First, the vast majority of state bars not require it before you can, you know, actually become a lawyer. And, since the requirement of a JD became standard place, it has also led to an explosion in law schools.

The mandating that attorneys have a doctorate to become licensed in their field created a very strange market. Medicine is about the only other field where you absolutely have to have both a doctorate and a license to practice (even psychology and engineering often only require one or the other (or in Arizona, NEITHER)). This had an effect of creating a fairly substantial barrier to entry during the mid-20th century, which then led to a dramatic increase in lawyer wages. Putting them on par with doctors. And... and this is a secret we don't often discuss among the peasantry... law school is way, way easier than medical school.

Molly, please show the class which of these things is a "tort."

Since law school was easier and could lead to a very lucrative future the demand for it skyrocketed. The number of law schools and the number of people attending law school grew and grew throughout the end of the 20th century. Eventually, this country was turning our roughly 50,000 new layers per year. But, nowhere near that many new jobs. You can see where this is going to end.

Badly. It's ending badly.

The legal profession is currently in shambles. Salaries and job opportunities are receding at terrifying paces. Meanwhile, law school admissions have just barely started to taper off. It's been a pretty horrible and substantial crash. And it's a worse crash than other sectors because, make no mistake, this has happened with other professions. Business, engineering, computer sciences have all gone through similar busts. The problem is, again, the legal profession requires a doctorate. And those, it turns out, aren't cheap. The end result is much more crippling debt and a much bleaker prospects.

Then, the U of A made this new degree. Why? Well, according to them, it's for people that could use some legal training but don't want to be lawyers. That's horseshit, pure and simple. This degree, as of right now, is useless. Completely and utterly useless. But... it might not be for long.

Thanks Arizona!

See, since the profession has begun to crash, one way law schools have been selling themselves is by saying there are other jobs out there aside from attorney that law degrees are applicable to. And they aren't wrong, there are indeed. The problem, of course, is that those jobs pay worse, generally, and are harder to find. Going to law school to not-be-a-lawyer was ludicrous proposition before. But this bachelor's of law degree sort of offers an opportunity to pursue those careers in politics, business, etc. that favored JDs but didn't require actual lawyering for substantially less cost.

The end result, hopefully, is that law schools will have to start competing with undergraduate colleges for those job markets and, in turn, will no longer be able to sell kids on the garbage line of "even if you're not a lawyer, it's still worth going to law school!" And maybe, just maybe, if that invisible hand of capitalism starts kicking in, it will dramatically undercut law school admissions.

Eventually, though, if this BA in Law catches on, it's going to dramatically change the nature of the profession by tearing it right down the middle. Two classes of law practitioners should emerge. Those who can do everything but actual court stuff and those who do court stuff. Which, really, is sort of how it works now, just those that don't practice in courts are called "junior associates" and they're dramatically overpaid and overworked and, since firms are paying them a ridiculous amount to work ridiculous hours, they don't need many and the job supply suffers. A lesser law degree creates to ability to hire more people, cheaper, and give them more reasonable work loads since they can afford to work for less with less debt.

Associates 123-147, I'm going to need that Henderson brief by the end of the day.

This, then, is where things will get wonky. If the Bachelor's of Law becomes common place again, it's going to force law schools to do something beyond what the bachelor's programs are doing. Like, maybe, just maybe, teaching people how to actually practice law. Or else, law schools are going to dry up so much that there might actually be, and I know this sounds weird, a shortage of attorneys that can actually practice law. That will lead, in the short term, to salary inflation and, in the long term, the bars potentially expanding to allow law bachelor's to sit.

In the end, this new degree represents the first step in one of two possible futures for the legal profession. Either a world where law schools adapt and the grunt legal work is done by lower-paid BAs who can afford to work for less because they aren't drowning in debt along side higher paid JDs who finally can make enough again to justify the debt they accumulated. Or else a world where law schools fail to adapt and the JD essentially dies out, making undergraduate degrees that standard for the profession which becomes universally more fluid of a market with lower salaries and lower entry costs.

In either case, the University of Arizona has fired the first shot in a revolution of the legal field as we know it. And, while it's going to kill the nature of the trade as it stands, maybe, just maybe, the profession will make economic sense again because of it. In the meantime, though, buyer bewared for anyone who wants to test out this new future. Maybe get a philosophy degree at the same time. You know, to fall back on.

Justify My Thug

2014-01-27T11:22:00.004-07:00

Richard Sherman. Man.

Craaaaaaaaaaaaaaazy.

This whole Richard-Sherman THING is amazing on so very many levels. You have Sherman himself, who is a fascinating individual. You have the role that sports plays in our society and its importance on greater racial issues. You have the reaction of people. You have the meta-reaction that social media always creates with modern stories. And, also, you know, somewhere in all of this is a football game. I could write for HOURS on this but I'm going to make this short. This post has two points: 1) To bring everyone up to speed on the story and 2) To paint, what I think, is the real picture of Richard Sherman. But first, we must jump.

Most of you were probably first exposed to the story in Sherman's post-game interview. But, for those of you that weren't, or for those of you that might not remember it so clearly, let me try to repaint the context. Clear your mind and let's start with the raw facts. Sherman is a cornerback. That's a football position that means it's his job to keep a wide receiver from catching a football. So, when there is a passing play, the quarterback throws the ball to his receiver, who tries to catch it while Sherman keeps him from catching it. In this particular game, Sherman was playing "man-to-man" coverage, so it's his job to always stay with and stop a particular receiver. In this case, Michael Crabtree.

And he did. Really, really well. Then, this happened. Watch the whole video for context, but pay close attention to the 50 second mark (this is from the NFL's site, and they are nazis who won't let me embed so it's an external link.)

http://www.seahawks.com/videos-photos/videos/Richard-Sherman-and-Michael-Crabtree-micd-/c2ae00fc-4efa-4f01-89c5-d7e77a23a984

Sherman runs up to Crabtree, extends his hand, tells him "hell of a game" and gets shoved in the face. He then, while celebrating runs into the crowd and hugs the fans. Does he look like a bad sport or a thug so far? Crabtree seems to be the real jerk here.

Then, he gives this interview.

So, clearly hyped up and upset at Crabtree. But then, at the end, he does two things: He talks about the Superbowl and he hugs Erin Andrews, the next reporter he's talking to. Immediately after that hug, this happens (again, external link due to lack of embed ability.)

http://nydn.us/1h6XoaP

Andrews asks for a detailed description of the final play and Sherman, instead, essentially repeats his prior interview. Even after having had a second to talk about something else and to hug Andrews and to generally take a breath. So, it looks more and more like this isn't just some random rant. Later, Sherman gives this news conference to address the rant.

That is the sentiment of an articulate, educated, thoughtful individual. Obviously, a lot different than the screaming heard in those two post game interviews. Additionally, there is this commercial.

Which seems like a direct reference to the above incident's fall out. However, this commercial came out the SAME DAY as the game. Herm. Coincidence? What could it mean? Well, consider this article.

Hot Air: Fox's Joe Buck, Troy Aikman Knew of Richard Sherman's Disdain for Michael Crabtree

All things considered, I think this paints a fairly clear picture of what's going on. Sherman isn't a thug. He isn't a jackass. And, above all else, he isn't stupid. He and Crabtree don't like each other. And, after a hard fought game, Crabtree WAS being an asshole and poor sport. Sherman took that as more fuel to continue to publicize their feud. This wasn't a random, hot headed interview by some violent "thug." He was hugging other people before it, during it and after it, he never cursed, he never showed any aggression in it.

This was a calculated move by a graduate of Stanford to promote his image and fire up his team. Sherman intentionally gave those interviews, knowing full well the controversy and publicity they might cause. He planned all of this

Hate to break it to you, media, but you've been outsmarted by a "dumb jock." Sherman was playing with you the whole time.

ARG

2013-10-10T08:39:00.002-07:00

Oh man. It's Thursday isn't it? Listen. I had some alcohol last night. And some wings. And maybe more alcohol. The bottom line is I don't have a post for you yet. I AM SORRY.

I will have one before 5 pm today. Pinky swear. In the meantime, just, you know, try not to make any loud noises.

The House that Morons Built

2013-10-07T07:30:00.000-07:00

Do you remember Barbara Garcia? Probably not, but you remember her video that went viral. Here she is with her... well... I won't spoil it if for some reason you haven't seen it:

It's a heart warming piece that her doggy best friend survived but, at the same time, it's also very sad because she didn't have insurance and now her and Bowzer are homeless. Except, you see, they aren't. Because the Fucking Internet built them a Fucking House. That's right. They just did it. 1,600 people, mostly strangers, just got together and built this woman a house. Or, well, their money did at least.

Like a Real Fucking House

So why, I ask, is our government so awful? Find out what a tornado and Congress have in common (just write in your own joke here in the meantime) after the jump.

Immabout to solve 5000 years of human socio-economic strife for y'all. I have the answer to all of the questions that have plagued humanity. Such as "what's the best economic system" or "why are people motivated to do X" and even "what is the meaning of life?" Alright, you ready? Ready to have your mind blown with all this insight? Here we go:

People are basically socialist but, at the same time, find comfort in knowing we get what we deserve.

Listen, I don't know that this still from "Scanners" is public domain, or fair use, but IT MIGHT AS WELL BE SINCE THE INTERNET IS BUILT ON IT

I know. I know. That statement doesn't seem profound but, for some reason, it is? So, for those of you not paying attention, the Federal Government has been SHUT DOWN (and not in the exciting, Black Eyed Peas sense, but more in the "none of us can visit a national park" sense.) Why? Well, see, there is this thing called "Obamacare". And there is a bit of a disagreement over what, exactly, the impact of it will be.

See, the Democrats claims it will cure all disease, free up innumerable economic assets, and bring about a modern utopia. Whereas the Republicans claim it will result in roving death squads, child abductions, and, probably, sodomy. Because, with them, it's always about the sodomy. What I'm saying is there is a bit of a gap between ideology here. So, ultimately, who is right? No one. No one is right. But that has nothing to do with Obamacare, or the ACA, or whatever nomenclature you prefer.

I prefer to call it "Dr. Snugglebears Free Healing Hugs Program" or DSFHHP for short.

You see, at the end of the day, the pseudo-universal health care we got is kinda sorta what everyone wants. Sorry, Republicans, but all the opinion polls that break down DSFHHP into its core components result in strong support. At the end of the day, Americans want what DSFHHP brings to the table. Why? Well, Barbara.

You see Barbara, up there? When Americans are faced with a person who has been dealt a shitty hand in life, we, generally, want to pitch in to help. This is but one of thousands of examples of internet generosity. Time and time again, when enough people are left to their own devices, they want to chip in and help the less fortunate, to support their fellow man. And, ultimately, that is the drive of socialism. People working together to help each other gain a more equal footing against the economic elite. There are a dozen charity websites built on just that foundation.

Where it breaks down is when people think this system of community support is being taken advantage of. This is wear this whole concept of, well, this, comes into play:

So, yeah, that's a thing. At least on YouTube. We can all sit around and argue about what degree it is actually a thing in the real world, but, the bottom line is, we all hate it. Not even the most hemorrhaging of bleeding hearts would watch that video and say "You go girl!" In part, you know, because it's not 1997. Still, none of us want this kind of shit to happen. And that gets to the second part of my statement: We want people to get what they deserve. We want to help out the less fortunate when their houses get hit by tornadoes. We don't want to give people too lazy to work free food. That's all pretty much common sense and, by and large, it's like how 85% of us truly feel.

We're all socialist in that we want everyone to have a chance and we want to help pull them up when they get knocked down so we can all compete equally but, then, once we are equal, we're all capitalist because we all want to be able to have the same opportunities to compete.

That's America. And ain't nothing wrong with that.

This image never gets old.

Which is why this whole opposition the the DSFHHP makes no sense to me. America isn't a country where we want you to go fuck yourself because your home got hit by a tornado or you got cancer. And, as much as people may bitch and moan about having to get health insurance, or their premiums going up, or whatever, we don't think people should suffer because God was making Jobian wagers and thought MS was a fine way to test some poor sucka's fate.

And I'm not just spouting liberal insanity. The latest polls back me up on this. Listen, do we love DSFHHP? No. Most of us hate it. We either think it goes too far, or not far enough, or whatever. But just because Bowzer and Barbara up there have too small of a house, or too big of a house, or it costs too much in overhead to build the house, or the house has too many windows is not reason to LEAVE HER IN A PILE OF RUBBLE.

And it sure as shit isn't reason to tear down the house we just built for her. Because, at the end of the day, a house, ANY house, is better than no house and we aren't all fucking bastards. Well... those of us who weren't elected to Congress aren't, at least.

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Fuck You

2013-10-03T08:00:00.000-07:00

For those of you that don't know me that well, you might not realize that this is my favorite time of year. I love Halloween. I love it so much. It's a holiday that revolves around horror and darkness and the macabre; which are all things I enjoy. But it's also a holiday that embraces gluttony for all ages, be it of candy or booze or sexual debauchery. And it's all perfect. Because, in the end, it's the only holiday that's about individuality and creativity and the bizarre. Halloween is perfect because, and I can't stress this enough, every person gets to make it how they want to. Children get to make it a night of sugar and princesses and ninjas and excuses to stay up too late playing games. Young adults get to make it a night of drinking with friends and homemade costumes and sex. Older adults can make it a night of special food and snuggling around a TV to watch horror movies (and, hopefully still sex.)

THERE IS NO WRONG WAY TO CELEBRATE HALLOWEEN. It's the one night we get to be who we want to be and do what we want to do, young or old, rich or poor, it's the night we get to embrace fantasy and excess and it is glorious.

So why then do they keep trying to take it from us? Anger after the jump.

This is Jesus:

You might know him from his roles in "The Bible" and "Jesus Christ Superstar"

Now, Jesus has two primary holidays every year. The first is Christmas, when he was born and the second is Easter, when he was raised from the dead. Now the first, Christmas, is celebrated on December 25th despite the fact that all historical analysis would seem to indicate Jesus could not have been born in winter. So, why then, do we celebrate Christmas in the depths of the cold. Well, mostly because of these guys:

I got nothing to add to this.

See, the 21st of December is the Winter Solstice. And pretty much every pagan religion loves them some winter solstice. Way back when people lived in castles and stuff, they all had their festivals to celebrate, the most famous of which being the Germanic celebration of "Yule." Which of course Christians found evil. Not because the non-Christians were sacrificing goats or eating babies, or sacrificing babies to goats for eating, but because they were dressing up and singing and dancing and drinking in the name of the WRONG GOD(S). You celebrate Jesus or you sit in your house and beg him for forgiveness. There is no other way. So, to put a stop to that nonsense, the Catholics moved their Jesus Birthday Bonanza to right next to the solstice so that they could go up to Pagans and be all, "Oh, hey, this is great, fun party. Let's keep partying to celebrate the birth of, you know, this other guy, too." Smooth.

And then, you have Easter. Which isn't even on a fixed date despite that fact that there is clearly an actual day in which Jesus was raised from the ground... or a cave... or something. Also, again, you'll notice that the range of possible Easter dates seems to correspond with the Vernal Equinox as well as planting periods. Also, you'll notice that it is full of eggs that hatch into bunnies.


OR SOMETHING. What am I, a biologist?

Because, again, it was designed to co-opt Pagan fertility festivals. So, Christianity had stolen two of the most important days of the year for people who don't think their God was born in a farm and nailed to some wood. However, that still left the fall harvest season untouched. With those damned infidels running around eating all their food and not feeling even the slightest bit guilty about it. That had to stop, so the Catholics moved their "All Saint's" celebration from May to November 1 and tacked on an evening celebration the night before. That All Hallow's Eve is what, of course, became Halloween.

As such, Halloween, as most of us are probably aware but, if not, I just dropped some knowledge on your ass and your ass is welcome, is a Christian holiday. But Halloween is different, in kind, from the other two major Christian holidays. In both Easter and Christmas, Jesus won. We think of those primarily as religious holidays and, to the extent symbols like the yule and the eggs still exist, they have been consumed and made part of the Christian tradition. Halloween, though, was won by the secular. It is a non-denominational celebration through and through. And man. Does that piss Christians off.

Though, to be fair, that's sort of their natural state.

Every year we get inundated with hogwash about "The War on Christmas." If anything, Christmas has waged a constant war on every thing else. Forget Chanukah and Ramadan, I mean, the Christians do, Jesus Day has also consumed Thanksgiving. It used to be that Christmas season didn't start until December. Then it became right after the turkey was digested. And now. Now I'm seeing stores spouting red and green in fucking October. Considering the holiday is to celebrate the birth of a man who rallied against gluttony, Christmas has gotten fat as hell.

So fat, that now, we're in the middle of a War on Halloween. Now, I understand, this "war" isn't an ideological one, there is no vast church campaign that wants to destroy Halloween so Santa trumps Satan.

Though there IS one to trump Santana, oddly enough.

It's an economic one. But still, in a way, that's worse. Halloween is hardly a non-commercial holiday but it is being encroached upon because it isn't commercial enough. Christmas sells way more than Hallow's Eve does so it's sold sooner and sooner. But, on the flip side, preserving Halloween IS an ideological objective. It's about protecting the one great holiday that we, the people of many faiths, managed to steal from the Western Religious Empire that is Christianity. It's about celebrating a holiday that is for us, that embraces not some skinny guy with disciples or some fat guy with elves but our own creativity and fantasy. And we use that to pay tribute to whatever we want, be it earth spirits or ninjas or witches or The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown.

Join me in fighting against this war on Halloween. Go buy decorations for your office and home. Watch scary movies, play scary games, drink scary drinks. Tell your kids ghost stories and let them dress up in their costumes (or multiple different costumes) weeks before the primary day. Enjoy this holiday for everything it's worth. Let's keep Halloween the month-long festival that it deserves to be and the Christmas has been for centuries.

You'll have your time, Jesus. Let us have ours.

Apologies

2013-09-29T21:20:00.003-07:00

To what readers I may have, after swearing I'd have, you know, a regular update schedule to martial an audience, I'm feeling too down to write a quality entry for tomorrow. Apologies to all. I shall get back on schedule this week, I promise. The hardest part about being a regular writer is that I am temperamental as to when I can be truly creative and that temperament is more one of hopelessness and self-defeating regret than it is of "bringing internet funnies" right now.

C.R.E.A.M. (Part 1)

2013-09-27T08:00:00.000-07:00

I want to talk today about dolla, dolla bills.

Yo.

Two things I was recently exposed to on the World* Wide Web, both concerning wealth. The first, is this article from Forbes. The second is this video from John Green:

And, BTW, if you aren't regularly watching vlogbrothers then, please, donate your internet connection to someone that will put it to better use. In any case, these two pieces of "information" got me thinking about one of my favorite topics "The Fallacy of the American Dream" (to juxtapose with my previous entry that propagated that Dream through a fat plumber with a psilocybin addiction.) More economic disenchantment after the jump.

*North Korea, China, Iran and most of the Middle East Notwithstanding

Now, when it comes to the whole economics... thing, I can rant for hours on every aspect of it. Also, when it comes to this concept of the "American Dream" I can rant for several hours more. Though, let's face it, I can pretty much rant for hours about anything (Kale? What the fuck is THAT about?) And rant I will, I promise dear reader, in time. That's not the part of this article and this video that I'm interested in right now. The part I'm interested in is what I'm going to call the "Emotional/Economic Utility Dichotomy." Or EEUD for short.

Which only SOUNDS like IUD. Though, there is a clear EUD to the IUD, but that's a whole other entry.

Basically, in short, let's take for granted that a rational human won't generally engage in a career path unless the utility, that is to say the benefit of it, justifies what they put into it. Now, utility is entirely an emotional concept; it's the amount of happiness/satisfaction/whatever something generates. But, practically, that happiness can come from two sources: the emotional response to the conduct itself, or the money you get for it. For example, if I decide to volunteer to build cat condos for blind kittens, then I get no money, but I feel good about helping out those poor, crippled cats. Or else I can spend my time euthanizing blind kittens for money. I get no joy from the task, but if you pay me enough, it will shut out the nightmares of the light fading from their little kitten eyes (that had so little light to begin with.) Man. That hypothetical got out of hand quick. Here's a sad/happy video to offset it.

In any case, which option I take depends on how much I love cats (for the record, the answer is TOO GODDAMN MUCH) and how much money is on the line. A cat hater gets very little utility building them carpeted palaces and, in turn, would kill them for minimum wage. A kitty lover, however, wuvs their widdle faces so much that no amount of money might make the latter option palatable. Whatever action you take, either the money or the raw sense of emotional enjoyment derived from it has to make it worthwhile. Make sense?

Now, let's look at a new hypothetical. There are three people: We have Aurora the teacher, Betty the public sector attorney (like meeeeeee) and Klaus the corporate executive. Now, all are college educated and, for the sake of argument, let's assume they all had the same cost of attendance of $10k a year. Aurora had to go to college for four years, so she spent $40k on that. Betty had to go for 7, so she spend $70k and Klaus, let's assume, has a bullshit MBA so he went for 5 and spent $50k. They also all had a certain opportunity cost for school, let's say the $30k a year they would've all made as high school graduates. So, now, the total cost for Aurora to become a teacher is $160k, for Betty, it's $280k and for Klaus it's $200k. Follow me so far? If not, here is more Oskar:

So, now, let's look at what each of them actually earn on a per-hour basis. Let's say Aurora makes $40k a year. Granted, she only works 9 months, but she also works an average of 50 hours a week because, you know, being a teacher ain't easy. So 37 weeks, times 50 hours a week, divided by $40k means she's getting roughly $21.62 per hour. With Betty, let's say she works a little less per week because I know I sure as heck do. So a 45 hour week, times 50 weeks a year, divide by $65k (because: government) and she makes $28.89 per hour. Alight, now, let's look at how much each had to pay to get here as a ratio to that hourly earning power. So, for Aurora, she paid $160k to make $21.62 per hour so for every penny she currently makes per hour, it cost her $74 in education (that sounds like a shitty investment but remember we're partitioning a total cost over an hourly one so it's sort of a meaningless number by itself; don't worry about it.) For Betty, she ended up spending $97 per penny she makes per hour ("don't go to law school" is the sub-moral here.)

In both cases, the numbers are, you know, in the same ballpark. But now, let's look at Klaus. Let's say Klaus makes a cool $250k a year as a junior executive. Now, he does work hard, and logs 55 hours a week. So, his hourly wage comes to $90.91. For every penny he makes per hour, he spent $22 to get there. TWENTY-TWO. His cost per penny was a third of the teacher's and a quarter of the attorney's. So, why then, did Aurora and Betty start and stay on their career paths? Emotional utility. The joy of a job well done. It offsets the horrible return on investment that they get for their career choices. Meanwhile, Klaus needs almost no emotional utility because, you know, he's making a metric shit ton of money. Of course Klaus's counter argument will be the emotional utility he loses for the stress he endures and the lack of time has to spend with his trophy wife, etc. etc.

Listen, unless Klaus spends every day in his office TRYING to kill himself and failing, he is not anywhere near negative enough in emotional utility to offset the VAULT OF GOLD AND JEWELS I ASSUME HE HAS.

Because we all belong to a generation that uses Scrooge McDuck as our go-to visual for wealth. Oooh-oooh.

Now. Let's put ourselves in Klaus's shoes. First, we know that there is only so much money to go around. We also know that if everyone started trying to do what we're doing, they would get more of that money which, in turn, means we would get less of it. And, since we are Klaus and we want ALL THE MONIES, we have to figure out how to keep people in jobs with terrible economic utility. How do we go about that?

Simple: we have to keep their emotional utility high enough that they won't change profession. So, first, we can write an article for Forbes using fancy words like: "Each particular individual in the community who contributed to a man’s rise to wealth was paid at the time–either materially or, as in the case of parents and friends, spiritually. There is no debt to discharge. There is nothing to give back, because there was nothing taken away." That reaffirms to everyone that the emotional benefit they get from their career choice offsets how little they make. Sure, you have to feed your kids beans three times a week but you are SPIRITUALLY SATISFIED.

Second, we can find non-economic ways to keep that emotional utility high. Like constantly praising teachers and public attorneys! Good job everyone! Keep fighting the good fight! You're making the world better! Notice how great politicians are with showering middle class people with platitudes? It's not because they care, it's so those people don't stop to ask "why don't you shower me with money instead?"

This article is emblematic of the greater social control, the pseudo-brain-washing, that the haves engage in to make sure the have nots... don't... you know, "have." It's nonsense, through and through and we need a wholesale rejection of it. We need to stop praising teachers and public workers for the sacrifices they make and STOP REQUIRING THEY SACRIFICE. Pay them what they are worth. Period.

It'sa Me!

2013-09-23T08:00:00.000-07:00

Housekeeping: It's my intent, foolish as it may be, to go to a twice weekly update schedule (Mondays and Thursdays). I've attempted thrice weekly in the past and, it turns out, that's just too. Goddamn. Much. As it stands, twice weekly is probably going to fail because I am not good at this but I have to lower my own standards.

The other day, I made a comment on a Facebook post about how Nintendo saved the video game industry. A friend of mine refuted this and, to be fair, it is a bit of an urban legend that Nintendo saved the industry. There really was no "Video Game Crash" as it has become popularized as, more of a "video game meh." But, that doesn't make what Nintendo did any less impressive and, really, despite the face we're talking about a Japanese company, Nintendo has become a cornerstone of Americana. All because of one little guy who is really good at doing what this blog post is about to do. Jump.

This is Mario:

Jaunty

That image is, undoubtedly, copyrighted but I'm banking on the fact that Nintendo will not send me a cease and desist order since this entry is largely free advertisement for them. If they do, I promise to take this post down and burn everything I own of theirs in a bonfire. You hear me, assholes? I'll do it!

In any case, you undoubtedly know Mario because you haven't been living in a cave for the last 30 years. Or, if you have, you have internet access now and if you've managed to find my blog without, somehow, learning Mario exists, then I'm terrified of you. Please don't find me and kill me.

Nintendo's story is inextricably intertwined with Mario's story, both real and fictional. Nintendo first entered the American market in 1986 and Mario wasn't really their mascot yet. They didn't really have a mascot.

They did, however, have a program to give jobs to developmentally disabled robots.

But, since Super Mario Bros was a pack-in game, Mario quickly became a thing. Not just A thing. THE thing. Mario exploded into popularity in the 80s. Kids had Mario themed birthday party. And, by "kids" I mean me. I had a Mario themed birthday party. It's still my favorite birthday EVER. But this post isn't about how I peaked at the age of 6, it's about the Cult of Mario. For those of you too young to really understand why it's so amazing that Mario became so big I'm going to need you to go do something for me. Go watch the Breakfast Club and Wall Street. Then come back.

Okay, so that was the 80s for the young and the old. Now, imagine in that cynical, narcissistic world of capitalism and disenchantment that I wanted to make a video game about a plumber. But not a plumber that plumbs, but rather a plumber that eats mushrooms and flowers and battles turtles and dragons to save a princess in a kingdom with a fungus-based economy. Oh, and he breaks floating bricks and question mark boxes. By the thousands.

This is what made Mario so amazing. It was a game that, from all objective criteria, was just batshit insanity but embraced that insanity so fully and with such vigor that people fell in love with it. Add to that the fact that Nintendo itself gave us these amazing bright, vibrant, scrolling worlds full of catchy music and baffling-but-precise-physics in an era when Atari was shoving ET into blocky pits and it's not hard to see why it captivated everyone.

To be fair, the shitty ET adaptation came out in 1983. By 1985, Atari had advanced to this shitty Ghostbusters adaptation.

And that, in part, is the first amazing thing about Nintendo. They were not a large company in 1986, at least their home electronics division was not. Hell, the guy they hired to make Super Mario Bros was still a student at the time. Still, they managed to piece together a set of hardware that beat Atari harder than... some analogy here about Chris Brown, maybe? I dunno. Put your own terrible domestic violence joke in. In any case, from a corporate sense Nintendo, a Japanese company, achieved the American Dream. More to the point, Nintendo of America, which was basically a rag tag bunch of kids working out of an office, achieved it. They went from an upstart in the industry, barely making a footprint in America in 1984 to, well, THIS:

Not pictured: Any property invented after 1992. But, you know, WHATEVER.

"But Jeremy!" You exclaim, because you're super high on meth so blog posts elicit such an excited reaction. "You said this was about Mario!" I did. And it is. Because Mario is Nintendo in more ways than one. Mario is the American Dream, both as a fictional character and an intellectual property.

As a piece of IP, again, what Nintendo achieved with Mario is astounding. Not only were the 1980s a period where Gordon Gecko was sort of a hero and where no one got the ironic undercurrent of Robocop, it was also a decade where Japanese culture still wasn't a thing. I mean, sure, we bought their cars because they were cheap and Japan hadn't cursed us all with the goddamn Pinto, but beyond that... Remember, Akira wouldn't see American shores until 1989 and sushi was still for horrible people in big cities. At this point, if you were a nippophile in Middle America it either meant you loved the shit out of some Speed Racer and Godzilla, or else you lived in your mother's basement and masturbated to obscure laser disc anime you bought from some shop where the owner TOTALLY has a girlfriend back in Osaka.

It wasn't that popular, is what I'm saying.

But Mario changed that. Listen, you can argue with me that Japanese culture was already exploding by 1986 and you would largely be right. But it was exploding in a "this is so exotic" way. People loved Japan because of how weird it was.

HOW WEIRD WAS IT? Listen... let's just move on, okay?

Mario didn't become a Japanese icon Americans loved. He became an American icon. And that, again, is why he is so amazing. Because we fucking stole him from Japan. But that's what makes American culture so unique; our constant acquisition of other cultures. Like cheap Mexican stands and St. Patrick's Day festivals, we thrive on stealing from everyone else to make this fabled "melting pot" of bizarre juxtaposition and idiosyncrasy and it's glorious. And that was Mario. We just fell in love with him and he became as American as any Italian-immigrant-by-way-of-Japan should in this wonderful land.

Of course, that was the other aspect of Mario and the reason why, ultimately, we fell in love with him. Mario wasn't Italian at first, that came later. Nor was he clearly a plumber in 1986. But he was American, through and through. Sure, he was Miyamoto's caricature concept of an American, complete with ridiculous overalls and mustache, but he was American enough for us. He was this chubby, blue collar, pasty-faced schlub who looked about as unheroic as possible but, through bravery and hard work, and determination, conquered harder and harder challenges, beat a fucking dragon-turtle and saved a fucking princess.

In a world where wealthy people were getting wealthier and excess was embraced to terrifying extents and we lived in the constant pain of helplessness over the possibility of nuclear annihilation, Mario gave us hope. He was us, with all our faults, achieving the extraordinary. He was never powerless. Never afraid. Never crushed by overwhelming forces. And for a few hours, every night, we could take our controllers and stomp some turtles and ride some floating metal platforms and become a hero. That is why every single one of you were able to look at that picture and instantly recognize not only the character, but a little piece of yourself.

Taking the Axe Back to the Ol' Grindstone

2013-09-20T16:19:00.002-07:00

So... blogging huh? Yeah. Back to the olllllllll' blog. To write insightful things for the internet to enjoy. Blogging. Totally blogging. So much stuff to write about. Each thing more entertaining and edgy than the last.

Oh! I have something! Yay, an idea for a post. Thank Jeebus, because I was this close (I am holding my fingers a very, very short distance apart right now) from just faking a seizure and that, it turns out, is extremely difficult to do in text form. Still, gonna keep that little gem in my back pocket. Also, no pictures for this post since I'm lazy with the cut and paste and don't want to incur copyright wrath when I'm just barely back to doing this nonsense. Real content after the jump.

So, are you all familiar with Axe? You know, the line of masculine hygiene products. The ones that smell like horror mixed with leather and dead fruit? Yeah. Basically, Axe is terrible at the one purpose it is intended to serve, which is actually making you cleaner/more pleasant to sniff. So, instead, they're focused on twin secondary purposes of fostering male insecurity and demeaning women.

And boy-fucking-howdy are they good at that.

Most Axe ads revolve around ridiculous concepts of masculinity. The end result is to make their male audience feel inferior then offer to improve their now crippled self-esteem with Axe's product, which is practically certain to lead to lots and lots of the sexing. You can find examples of their prior ads on the ol' Youtube if you want. I refuse to link them here because they aren't paying me to advertise (nor will they ever, now; Sponsor Foul!) But none of this is anything particularly new. For years, advertisement has revolved around the 1-2 punch of making your customers feel like shit, then offering to save them from their new-found shitiness. In a way, Axe is almost noble for being more direct with all that.

One might call Axe a goddamn hero. You know, if one was a 15 year-old dude with a laptop keyboard in DESPERATE need of some cleaning and a clothes hamper his mom refuses to touch anymore.

But then, then, Axe decided they weren't Axey enough. That they could be more Axe. And they made this ad:

Man, oh man. I hate this ad. This paradigm, this "women are too hot for men to handle themselves" tomfoolery is, of course, the source of the "asking to be raped" horseshit that I have to hear from Fox News apologists every time some rich white guy is accused of having "non-consensual sex" with some poor girl who he's been feeding GHB poppers to all night. Now, of course, Axe mitigated that by making it clear in the ad: "We're not talking about guys wanting to rape gals! Heavens no! They just crash their mopeds and ruin their meth batches!"

And that's, somehow, worse. It doesn't erase the filthy taint of the R-word (I mean "rape," not "Roadhouse" which was terrible in its own right) because it still just ooooooozes from this ad like overpriced body spray oozes from a black can. Instead, it just trades male incompetence for dangerousness. Which, of course, was the point all along. You can't call your customers rapists, but you can say they are stupid unless they buy your product.

BUT WAIT THERE'S MORE. Not only did Axe play the "not-quite-rape" card, they played it in a winning hand over a pair of "objectification Aces". After years of serving their soul purpose of being sexy sex things we want to sex, women have gotten too good at it. They are just too damned hot. Well done, ladies. Well done. We're all very proud of you. Thank God Axe has come along to allow us to keep our collective male shit so that you can keep getting hotter. For a second there, we thought you might actually have to start spending time on reading or going to school. Now, get those sweet asses back to the gym.

Axe, we salute you for setting advertising back to a point where even Don Draper would've been all, "Guys, let's think this through." Slow clap.

Housekeeping matter: I'm going to try to get back to regular writing. I keep saying that and it never happens but, you know, aim for the stars. Also, feel free to comment here or Facebook me about your feelings about me vlogging. Cause I might do that in addition to or instead of this. Only time will tell.

Game of Thrones. A synopsis.

2012-04-04T16:53:00.001-07:00

This post contains spoilers. It is a summary of the first half of the first season of Game of Thrones. Please do not read unless you want things spoiled. Let's jump like a small boy climbing a wall and peering through random windows...

So, our story begins when some wandering douchebags. One finds a bunch of corpses arranged in a strange pattern. Like in a Dan Brown story. Except for not written with monkey feces. So the corpse-finder tells his friends about all strange dead people. His friends go with him, find no bodies, accuse him of being a moron and then OH SNAP! ZOMBIES MURDER THEM! The corpse-finder survives, gets rounded up by some soldiers.

Now we get to meet the Stark family, who will be the centerpiece for this story. First, there's Ned stark. He's kind of a big deal. He's the Lord of Winterfell, which is one of the Seven Kingdoms (except there is only one king. Don't ask.) Then there is his wife, Caetlyn, she has some anger issues. They have five children. Robb is sort of useless now but he'll get plenty awesome later. Also, there is Jon Snow, who, we'll hear over and over, is a bastard. In fact we might as well just get used to it now. Bastard. Bastard bastard bastard bastard. In the literal sense of the word, meaning his mother is some woman that Ned had an affair with. Then there is the oldest daughter, Sansa. She's a bitch. Not in the literal sense of the word. More in the "holy fuck I wish she would die, that fucking---GAR!"

I HATE YOUR STUPID FACE!

Then there is the youngest daughter, Arya. She oozes badassity. We see this as she totally punks (do people say that? Is that still a thing?) her little brother, Brand in archery. Brand, incidentally, is basically just a plot device for the foreseeable future. We also learn that he loves to climb and NEVER FALLS. Foreshadowing hoooooooo! Oh, and the youngest Stark son is Rickon. I don't think anyone remembers he even exists at this point nor will they ever. I imagine he subsides on scraps and dead rodents. Also there's some other dude, Something Greyjoy. He's Robb's homosexual lover or something. I dunno, I don't care. He's sort of there.

So yeah, some soldiers come with the guy who survived the zombie thing. Ned charges him with abandoning his post. The rest of the first episode is consumed with a lengthy trial during which we learn a good deal about the underlying conspiracies of government and see tense arguments and legal battles play out while we question motives and come to a deeper understanding of both the characters and what is truly important for a civilized society. Nah, I'm just kidding, Ned cuts that bitch's fucking head clean off. Thwack. Take that you fucking zombie-finding prick.

Let me say this now: If you are a pro-neck sort of person then don't watch this show. Everyone fucking hates necks and they are constantly doing everything they can to eliminate them. Be it with knife, axe, wolf, or a wolf wielding a knife axe.

I have a suggestion for the next novel, George R.R.... source

Oh yeah, wolves. So, after a hearty day of sword swinging the Starks go wandering through the forest and find a dead dire wolf and her still living pups. Each Stark (and the bastard, Jon Snow, who is a bastardly bastard) adopt a pup. They are important somehow to either some sort of symbolism or magic or something, I don't really know, but they are also adorable killing machines and I love them and want one.

We also learn that the king's Hand is dead. "Hand" is the title for the king's main assistant. In this case, the old hand John Arryn died of "an illness." That illness being his acute allergy to poisons. We see the queen and her brother talking about his death. Later on, we'll learn a little surprise about them...


Here's a hint: It's twincest.

So, the king packs up his family like a traveling fucking hillbilly show and they head over to Winterfell. Once we get there, we learn that the king, Robert Baratheon, was supposed to marry Ned's sister and then she died (was killed... listen, just assume anytime I say someone "died" I mean they were murdered, it's easier that way.) Robert bitches and moans about her for a bit. This sort of justifies the queen (Cersei Lannister.) I mean, if your husband was some drunk, fat asshole who kept going on and on about his dead girlfriend, you might pork your brother too. Oh? No? It's just me? Okay.

Anyway, so the king asks Ned to be his new Hand. Ned eventually agrees, and they arrange a marriage between Sansa (fucking die) and the king's "son" (notice the quotes, that become important later) Joffrey. Joffrey is... well, let me put it this way. If fucktardedness were an Olympic sport, this guy would be Michael Phelps. I mean LOOK AT HIM.

He's like the illegitimate son of David Bowie and Justin Bieber. Fuck that guy. We also meet his uncle, Tyrion, the brother of the queen and her twin/love (Jamie Lannister.) He's a dwarf who loves booze and sex. So to answer your question: Yes, he did win an Emmy. We also get to see some nudity. This show can't go more than ten minutes without a throat getting cut or some breasts. God bless you, HBO.

As a quick aside because I haven't covered it yet. The current king (Baratheon, if you recall) didn't used to be the king. As some short back story, his girlfriend, Ned's sister, was kidnapped by the old king and Robert Baratheon and Ned Stark led the revolution to overthrow that king. The deposed king's last name was Targaryen. Also, the king's old hand, John Arryn (who got poisoned), was Ned and Robert's adoptive father of sorts. Oh, and he was married to Catelyn Stark's sister.

Cut to a foreign land where we learn that the old king's two surviving children are plotting an arranged marriage of the sister to Khal Drogo, who is basically cornering the market on conditioner and smokey eyeliner. And he's a warlord of the Dothraki. Oh, and he might have a thing for fucking horses, it's really not clear.

The brother (Viserys) has an implied incestuous relationship (apparently most of the Seven Kingdoms are in the Appalachian mountains) with the sister (Daenerys) and keeps threatening her with his "dragon."

I think dragon actually is code for penis. But in the interests of keeping this blog SFW...

There is a scene were Daenerys, who is filthy, filthy hot, gets into a spa that the hand maiden exclaims is, literally, too hot but doesn't get burned. More foreshadowing

Here she is wearing clothes. Sort of an anomaly for her.

Cut back to Winterfell. We find out that Cat's sister has fled, believing her husband, John Arryn, the old hand of the king, to be murdered.

Cut back to the Dothraki. Daenerys is getting married to Drogo! She gets two important gifts: petrified dragon eggs and marital rape! Joy!

Meanwhile, back at Winterfell, Snow decides to go to the Wall. I don't mean that metaphorically, there is literally a giant wall. You see, Winterfell is the Northernmost land of the Seven Kingdoms and to the north of it is a wall that separates the Kingdoms from Bad Things on the other side. It's guarded by the Night's Watch, who vow to protect the kingdom until death. Oh, and not to have sex. The Watch is mostly outcasts, thieves and rapists and, of course, bastards. So bastardly king of the bastards John Bastard Snow decides he's going to bastard his way to the wall. Tyrion, who needs to give his dick a rest, decides to travel with him to visit.

Then, later, Brand is climbing on the Winterfell castle walls, happens to spy the queen and her brother doing the nasty (why they were doing the nasty in an abandoned chamber in front of windows, I know not) and the brother, Jamie, catches Brand catching them. Exposition, exposition, then Jamie tries to teach Brand to fly and he fails. Plummeting about 5 stories to... his death?

And that's the first episode. Shit. Well, I'm going to summarize the next few episodes but those should be shorter. For now, I'm sort of sick of all these people and their ridiculously spelled names. I need a break.

We Can Do this the Easy Way or the Hard Way. Okay, Cupid?

2012-04-02T21:42:00.001-07:00

I'm back, bitches!!!!!!!

I'm sorry. That was uncalled for vulgarity. It won't happen again. Mostly because I'm lazy and it's hard to say if I will return to regular writing. But I'm going to try. For realz this time.

There is soooooooo much to talk about. So many things have happened in the year since my last post. Like... um... there was... uh... the... thing with the... economy and... the... um... environment...


I saw this when I looked out my window this morning. So, yeah, I guess that's something.

Anyway, yeah, there's a Republican primary. And some black kid got shot for wearing a hood (irony much?) Those are important. But I'd rather talk about me instead. So get ready for shameless self-indulgence after the JUMP!

Wooooo. That was exhilarating. So, I recently joined okcupid. Or, rather, I rejoined. Why would I do that? Well, see, it's a simple matter. There are, essentially, four reasons for having an okcupid profile:

1) I want to find true and everlasting love.
2) I like to stalk but find hiding in bushes tiresome and itchy.
3) I hate myself.
4) Profit!

Strike number 4. Replace it with "I enjoy standing on the sidelines laughing as humanity burns!" Although, now that I think about it, that is really basically the same thing as profit in most corporations' minds.

EARMUFFS! It's okay, Mitt, he didn't meant it. Shhhhh. Dry those tears.

I hope to be loved and find a deep, trusting relationship that fulfills my deepest emotional needs just like everyone else. But I'm also 30. That means I've also realized by now that people are horrible. So, yeah, there's sort of a conflict there. This post isn't about my internal struggle between the last vestiges of romantic idealism that are dying the slow, painful death of starvation and, you know, reality. No! Instead, this is about... yeah, no, it's sort of about that.

Okcupid is not an ego booster. Let's start with that. Essentially, the entire site follows one of two different patterns depending whether you are a male or a female. Male first.

1) Browse through profiles ---> 2) Find cute, interesting girl ---> 3) Send message to said girl ---> 4) Wait some arbitrary amount of time for a response ---> 5) No response ---> 6) Find another cute, interesting girl ---> 7) Repeat steps 2-6 for X number of times where X = the amount of time it takes for you to formulate a proper suicide plan ---> 8) Drink until you can't feel your fingers anymore.

Success!

For girls, per my friend who was also on okcupid, the pattern looks more like this:

1) Browse through profiles ---> 2) Get hit on by creeper ---> 3) Get hit on by creeper ---> 4) Get hit on by creeper ---> 5) Get hit on by creeper ---> 6) Get hit on by creeper ---> 7) Get hit on by creeper ---> 8) Abandon internet ---> 9) Adopt 15 cats

A cat picture??? On the internet??? This blog is really hard to masturbate to...

Such is the wonderful world of online dating. So far, this has been an enjoyable experience. No, no, not the okcupid participation. I meant the part where I try to slug out a few thousand words of blog post before the rum and vodka fully pickle my brain and make it hard to see the computer monitor. I like to turn as many life events into a race against inebriation as possible. Then, win or lose, I'm a fucking winner.

But back to the point at hand. The ultimate problem with online "dating" (which, really, is a misnomer because it's more "online way to meet people in an incredibly awkward and isolated fashion where at least one party might be fully sober") is that these two experiences tend to feed upon one another. From the female perspective, the constant barraging by creepy, bizarre anti-social perverts leads her to be reluctant to properly read, let alone, respond to message she receives. In turn, she never replies to any decent emails she gets. This leads to those males with decent messages becoming increasingly disenchanted. Which causes them to either BECOME creepers or else fall off the site entirely.

Really, it's the inevitable result of repeated frustration over not getting what you want. And eating primarily fish.

So, what is the answer? Well, there is always the standby: "Maybe humanity could try being a little less horrible tomorrow." Hahahahahahahahahaha. I keed! I keed! I might as well wish for a goddamn unicorn. I really don't know. The obvious answer is "better enforcement mechanisms" to remove the scumbags from the site, but it's free. You get what you pay for. Also, as a guy, I could argue for girls to stop being so picky and judgmental, but I might as well get back to wishing for that unicorn. Or a dragon. That eats unicorns. Fuck YES.

In the end, I'm not in the solution business. I'm in the "fuck it, let's all have sex and undermine government" business. I encourage more constructive criticisms in the comments, though. Still, this post was not entirely without merit. We've accomplished three things tonight, kids.

1) I link to my blog on my okcupid profile, so now I've created a wonderful self-referential loop. It's the literary equivalent of traveling back time and murdering my grandfather (or boning my grandmother, I can never remember how that works.)

2) I set the stage for wonderful, recurring okcupid-related posts. Y'all can join me on this horrible, misguided journey.

3) I got back to updating my blog! Wait... that last one isn't really an accomplishment.

Oh well. Next few entries (if they happen) will be about Game of Thrones, shooting black kids, and maybe, just maybe, if you are extra good, a killer cheesecake recipe that involves fudge and peanut butter. Stay tuned!

Judge Not Lest Ye be... Praised?

2011-03-03T09:50:00.001-07:00

This is going to be a slightly more serious entry. Apologies. Here, I take an extended sabbatical and then repay the patience of those of you who waited out my self-boycott by gifting you a decided lack of humor. I don't mean to kick you when you are down, I really don't. I just can't help it. You're so easy to kick. All the way down there, right next to my feet.


Also, dinner wasn't ready... AGAIN.

For those of you who had not heard, a BYU player was recently dismissed from his basketball team for having sex with his girlfriend. There are so many, many things that upset me about this. So many aspects I can criticize. I could easily write 2-3 entries on it and, you know what, I will. Because it's my fucking blog. My first major issue with all this after the jump.

There are legal and religious aspects about this that I will comment on more specifically in future post(s) but, for now, the things that annoys me the most is the social aspect. Since BYU has booted Brandon Davies, the response among the talking sports heads has been, largely, supportive. The chorus rings loud and clear: "We might not agree with BYU's standards and policies but we respect the school for standing by them." That is asinine to the extreme. Listen, it is honorable for anyone, person or institution, to stand by their own personal code when that code is legitimate. There are many politicians over the years who have beliefs in policies I did not support but I respected them for standing by those policies. Chuck Hagel, Barry Goldwater, and Bob Dole all spring to mind. But there is a difference between legitimate political debate and archaic, harmful, regressive standards.

The mere fact that someone stands by something is not respectable when the thing they stand by is reprehensible. There is an obvious Nazi analogy to be made here but I refuse to make it for the sake of maintaining enlightened debate.


I will, however, cry if needbe.

Instead, let me make a more enlightened analogy. Let's say that BYU's policy, instead of saying "thou shalt not have premarital sex" said "thou shalt not attend African-American Rights rallies." Would people be so quick to support it then? "But!" the chorus screams, "That is an unfair comparison. There is a difference between political speech and boinking your girlfriend!" Okay, what, instead, if the BYU policy said "thou shalt not read for pleasure." Would they be so lauded for adhering to such a code? Before people condemn me as unfair, allow me to strengthen the analogy.

I can write for pages about the idiocy of forbidding premarital sex. The reasons for ancient religious and societal bans on it were very real. Disease, unintended pregnancy, social strife, all derived from the act. It was banned as a protectionist measure. But, one by one, those valid reasons have been eliminated. Birth control, personal responsibility, medicine, etc. have rendered proper, safe premarital sex harmless. The promulgation of fiction of the abstinent teenager (and even more ludicrous, the abstinent college student) leads to secret sex. Rather than teaching kids to be responsible about sex, we teach them not to have it so, when they do, they have no idea how to do it maturely.

Maybe "mature" is too strong a word. Let's stick with "responsible."

Yes, this is a bit of a rant about abstinence-only education but it also extends to religious schools embracing it as a code for college students and renaming it "premarital sex." It's the same fundamental policy dressed up in a new coat. A continuation of dogmatic irrationality. And, returning to me analogy, just like leisure reading, it is something done for fun that has nothing to do with school. Regulating a student's sexual habits is just as intrusive and outside the realm of their core academic concerns as regulating their outside reading habits.

Further, and here is the part where people get their torches and pitchforks from whatever store still sells them: It is just as counterproductive. We support people in general, as especially college students, reading for pleasure because it develops important skills and serves to educate them. Even if they aren't reading great works of fiction or peer-reviewed research articles, the mere act of reading improves their vocabulary, stylistic abilities, rhetorical skills, and even the trashiest of novels generally serves to educate on SOMETHING, even if its something as benign as literary style or cultural stereotype. Not all extracurricular reading has the same value, but the vast majority of it has value.


Ironically, there is probably even some value in the stuff written by sexually-repressed Mormons. PROBABLY.

Here comes my bold premise. Get those torches lit. Sex is also crucial in development and growth in college. It's really high time society stop pretending that people don't have sex and that sex isn't a crucial part of our culture and who we are. And sex, just like experimenting with political beliefs, reading diverse literature, and eating foreign foods, is an important part of a college kid learning who he or she is. Sex, when done properly, is key for emotional development and for becoming a fully functioning adult, capable of forming healthy relationships. How can we expect adults to regard sex properly if they aren't allowed to ever experience it and learn from it. We expect people to just suddenly, magically, have appropriate emotional responses, use sex properly as a relationship tool and know how to do it when they go on their honeymoon? Really?

Wait... you're supposed to put what where??? Oh... oh shit.

Denying that college kids have sex is serving to retard their proper development, period. And it is harmful.

I, for one, am not a fan of "viewpoint neutrality." These commentators, looking at and opining about BYU's code, are essentially saying "we will not pass judgment on the underlying rule, we just support your decision to stand by it." I do not. Listen, if BYU wants to stand by productive rules (don't lie, cheat, steal) I fully support that. Hell, I will support their right to stand by arbitrary and neutral rules (no caffeine or cursing) or rules that are harsh but likely produce some benefit (no alcohol) or even rules of ambiguous worth (attend church services.) But I will not support an overly intrusive rule that, quite likely, actually serves to harm students.

There is no honor in standing by archaic codes and commentators do society a disservice by not judging BYU for that stance. Fifty years ago, viewpoint neutrality was what led people refusing to pass judgment on schools that racially segregated. Sure, maybe we don't agree with it, but that's their policy and we respect them standing by it. I'll speak to the legal issues of this in my next post but, in summary, while I support BYU's RIGHT to make this code (in that I do not believe government should intervene), I also believe that it is the duty of commentators to not turn a blind eye. There is nothing wrong with criticizing and pressuring an institution to change for the better. Stop pretending "not having sex" is equally pious with "don't steal." One is wrong, the other is natural and healthy. It is your job, as the media, to make that distinction and to advocate for social change rather than letting some poor college kid be run out on a rail for being a college kid.

Government IV: The People, Bye The People

2011-01-26T11:40:00.001-07:00

So. There was a State of the Union address last night. Did you watch it? I did not. I've made it a goal in my life to avoid as many State of the Union (or SOTU, as the kids call them) addresses as possible. By and large, they are worthless. They are dull, elongated diatribes full of empty affirmations and vapid reassurances broken up only by the excessive and excruciating pause lines. I've watched dog shows as well and the only functional difference between the two is that I've rarely found myself saying, "Awwwwww. Look at that cutey face!" during a SOTU address.


Whose a big pwesident? Whose a big pwesident? You are! Yes you are!

Today, our office also tried to place an order for some laptops. To see how these two matters are related... infuriatingly, ridiculously related, continue reading after the jump.

First, the State of the Union. Let me summarize it up for you: It's fucked. There, I just saved you, like, two hours of your life. Really, how great would that be if some president just came up for the address, stood on stage, waited for the applause to die down then went "We're screwed. Good night everybody!" But I digress. The State of the Union is, and really, always has been, the greatest exercise in political masturbation there is.

At least since this guy left office. That's right, a Clinton sex joke. Can't find that cunning humor anywhere on the internet but here.

First, I know this may be shocking to you, but most Americans don't watch it in the first place. And, of those that do, most people just sort of turn it on because they think their kids should watch it or because it fucked up the night's programming or whatever. I'm too lazy to look up the actual numbers but, it's safe to say, the number of Americans who watched the whole thing and actually cared or paid attention to it are few. I know, blasphemy. You, after all, are an enlightened elector, a member of the politically active. Quick, tell me anything said of significance in any SOTU address from any prior president. Go for it.

I realize there are a small number of my readers shouting factoids at their computer monitors like a real life Tracy Flick. I also realize there are a small number of my readers who are throwing feces at their monitors. These are the outliers. Most of you have no answer to that question. Guess what those Americans who didn't watch or pay attention to the SOTU have that you don't? Two hours of their lives.

Well.... some of them did. Others made their own moronic viewing choices.

The SOTU is all about a bunch of politicians throwing words at each other while political junkies sit at home and touch themselves. It accomplishes nothing, it makes no difference to anyone, and it costs a lot of time and money to put on each year.

So then, after dodging this exercise in futility, I come into my office this morning to discover, low and behold, that the laptops that we wanted to buy are not up to our "Internal City Standards." See, for those of you that didn't know or may have forgotten, I ostensibly work for the government, a painful fact I am reminded of every day. And, as a side project to my normal job of putting criminals back on the streets, I was tasked with researching and presenting a list of notebooks for our office to spend what is left of our meager budget on. Myself and Ryan, my coworker, found three such notebooks, all under six hundred dollars, from our vendors. Of course, our "vendors" is a list of retail companies who give the city a kickback to force a monopoly in our purchasing practices.


File photo of vendor

It's bad enough we have to elect to shell out $600 for a laptop I can find elsewhere for five. I'll take that as the cost of doing business. But then, low and behold, we can't even get that laptop because of these "standards." "What are these 'standards?'" you might ask. Good fucking question. No one bothered to tell us. Our IT department just has these "standards" that need to be followed. "How then" you ask, your voice tinged with incredulity, "can you be expected to follow them?" Well, I'm glad you asked... mostly because it gives me reason to keep writing. Wait. I'm not paid by the word. Goddammit, stop asking questions. Can't you see I'm a busy man?

Oh, right. The stupid fucking IT department. Well, in order for use to meet our standards, the department recommended we purchase one of their pre-approved laptops. They gave us a choice of two. Guess how much they cost. Go on guess.

Did you guess $1300? Because if you did, then you should apply for a job in government management! $1300. Each. I just. There aren't words.


I wanted to emphasize the outrageousness of it with a gold-plated laptop picture, but the only ones they make are Apples. I'm now paralyzed with all the other jokes I can make. It's best if we just move on...

Government. This is where the Teabaggers are coming from. What do the SOTU address and my struggles with trying to not waste taxpayer money have to do with one another? Simple, government just loves government. Just as all the politicos sat around embracing one another last night, so does bureaucracy thrive by constant back-patting. I can't afford a decent laptop because our higher ups want their kickbacks and then IT wants to feel like they have power so they add on regulations without any sense or explanation that the powers-that-be lap up so they can increase the kickbacks. It's a vicious circle. And this is common, laptops are hardly the first time I've found that we are buying things at exorbitant prices.

If you think the government spending $1300 on a laptop is bad. Ask yourself this: How much was the catering for the SOTU dinner?

Art

2011-01-24T11:48:00.002-07:00


Source

Those four panels are, in a word, brilliant. I could spend many words analyzing the strip as well as dozens more like it. First and foremost, is the joke itself. The punchline itself is clever and subtle. Hobbes delivers a simple, pun-based quip. It's a cute form of ironic observation, juxtaposing "funny" and serious. Lighthearted, but hardly remarkable, it is inferior to the secondary punchline, which is more sardonic. Calvin's comment communicates a sort of dark, sardonic downbeat. Of course, it also embraces a funny juxtaposition. While putting someone in a nursing home is hardly humorous in and of itself, the fact it's being done simply because of his opinions on comics is ridiculous. Though funny because if its outlandish nature, there is a greater genius in the strip: It is insane to take comics seriously.

Beyond that, the strip itself reeks of self-reference. Calvin talks of how comics have become nothing more than a series of talking, photocopied heads while the strip itself represents that very formula (of course, a deeper analysis reveals that each panel is actually not photocopied but drawn fresh and made to simply look like the previous one.)

I'm going to stop now because, like I said, I can go on and on. Also, by now, most of you are thoroughly annoyed that I'm not being funny and have almost certainly stopped reading. Sorry. I'm not going to be particularly funny.


I can still be terrifying, though.

This is a tribute. Throughout my life, there have been many an author who I have a good deal of admiration for. The beautiful poetry and drama of Shakespeare and Dante. The astounding depth of Stephenson and Crichton's science fiction. The dark, cynical worlds of Huxley and Orwell. The brilliant realms of Tolkien and Lewis. The stirring observations of life penned by Harper Lee and F. Scott Fitzgerald. Yet, among all these great names, and all the wonderful literature they have given us that has so enriched our lives, there is one man whose stories I return to time and time again.

That man is Bill Watterson, and he has given us the Indespensible, Essential and Authoratative Calvin & Hobbes. Now I know many would scoff at the idea of listing a mere comic artist in the same breath as Shakespeare, Fitzgerald and Orwell. The rhetorical question I raise, though, is what criteria must exist for someone to consider something great literature.

I offer this anecdote as a prelude to my consideration. I know many intelligent people; people knowledgable in all manners of law, politics, business, science, education, and the like. And among the vast majority of them when I raise the question, "Have you ever read Calvin & Hobbes?" the answer is an affirmative. However, in many cases it is more than a simple "yes," rather, it is an answer intoned with a mild form of mockery, as if it was silly of me to even ask such an obvious question. For many the tone is almost as if I had simply asked, "Have you ever read?"
Why is it that so many people that are so learned can take for granted this common experience? "Of course I've read Calving & Hobbes, who hasn't?" There are many possible answers, but few hold water. The people who have enjoyed Watterson's masterpiece transcend generational boundaries and social groups. They are young, old, black, white, rich and poor. And among all those who appreciate literature and good writing, it is a forgone conclusion.

"Of course I've read Calvin & Hobbes."

Yet, people seem hesitent to consider a daily comic strip at the level of great novels. I have no such reluctance. Calvin & Hobbes gives us everything we could desire from great literature. Watterson created micro-stories that did more than set up a joke and end it with a punchline. They gave us a glimpse into the beauty and magic of childhood. In an age where so much media rushes to portray children as mere simpletons there to look cute and deliver mispronounced words that are adorable, yet empty, Watterson created a brilliant child who reflects the wonders of his youth. Calvin is intelligent, insightful, imaginative and even a little cynical, while at the same time he is reckless, lazy, cocky and destructive. Although his words were never realistic, often times far beyond those that a non-prodigous child should possess, the themes and traits made him feel so much more real than the kid on a sitcom who stares adorably into the camera and produces some vapid catch-phrase.

However, beyond the wonderful insight into childhood that the strip always carried, there was much more to love. Though the vast majority of his episodes told a joke, Watterson never felt confined to any sort of humorous formula. He'd often interweave poetry and drama into the strips. He was never afraid to tackle the terrible subjects of childhood; death, abuse, and crime, among others. Yet, underneath it all, there was always love and hope. Watterson could be funny, scathing, and sweet all in a four panel span.

Sometimes, it really only took one.

His works were every bit as multilayered and clever as the strip I opened with. High technique, deeper meaning, contextual humor, parody, syllogism. Anything of worth you learned in your college creative writing classes (not that you probably learned much of worth) found its way into many of his strips. And throughout it all was the one thing which holds Watterson back from being counted among the greats. Had he told his jokes, his stories, in longer, continuous form and entirely in words, I have no doubt he'd be held as a great author. Instead, he chose to tell them with pictures.

Pictures.

And what beautiful and wonderful pictures they were. I dare say no comic out there has had anywhere near the brilliant and varied artwork that Calvin & Hobbes had. Vast Jurrasic landscapes. Vivid watercolored monsters. Dark, noir shoot-outs. Many worthy of framing and placing in an office or home. And therein lies the bitter irony that seems to prevade our literary culture.

Take the stories, strip out the pictures, and fill them out with description and continuity and you have great literature. Take the pictures, erase the words, and make them stand alone and you have great art. Combine them together, all you have is a mere comic. Commercialized, pop-culture trash. It's a ridiculous sentiment. To think that a man who is so skilled at writing, so skilled at art and has such remarkable wit and insight can be cast aside as a mere comic artist. And Watterson is not alone. There are many, many comic creators out there who have shaped fantastic art and stories, yet are not considered true authors. Some weave their magic every day in newspapers. Others release monthly manifestos in magazine form. Some save up their creativity, unleashing it in complete stand-alone novels. And now, many, many more, are proliferating the internet with their stories told with pictures.

The prejudice is slowly beginning to change. Everyday, another "mere comic" gets wider and wider recognition. When Charles Schultz died, America mourned and we all, collectively, realized what an incredible series of works he had bestowed on us. Many finally counted him among the greats in American literature, a place I fully agree he holds. Meanwhile, graphic novels like the Sin City series and Sandman are finally gaining respect and admiration as their movies spread their fame.

However, we've still a ways to go. One day, I think, people will look back on Bill Watterson's work and give it the respect it deserves. The bias, the ignorance of the eltists that make up the literary culture in American will fade. And then, it won't sound so ridiculous to make a list such as this:
Fitzgerald, Hemmingway, Orwell, Schultz, Watterson.

No Post Today

2011-01-21T11:41:00.001-07:00

My apologies. Remember how I was going to take a vacation Wednesday? Well, Friday is the new Wednesday. So. Yeah.

Hey, you kids. Get off my goddamn lawn.

I will resume regular updates Monday, when mock trial slows down a bit. Hand to Jeebus.

For a Day, We're All Equal!

2011-01-19T11:43:00.001-07:00

I originally was going to take a vacation from posting today, but decided that spewing my nonsense serves to both elevate my spirits as well as darken yours. I'm also experimenting with a new ad "feature" (notice the quotation marks, indicating that I am implying sarcasm in my commentary.) I added Amazon Associates, which may or may not be overly intrusive. I am also not certain if I'm even allowed to comment on the addition or if that violates some policy somewhere. I felt I should, though, as a bit of a heads up to y'all so you understand what some of the links you see are.

I plan on being judicious with this new power and not using it to the point of absurdity. I also plan to use it chiefly for products I actually endorse and not just random shit. Still, let me know if you find the whole thing obnoxious and I will cease. As I noted before, I am sensitive to the balancing act of my own profitability against your enjoyment, limited and transitional as it may be. Real post after the jump.

As you are undoubtedly aware, Monday was Martin Luther King Jr. day. I, unlike many others, did not post anything about it. Not because I am insensitive, which I am, or racist, which I am, or because I hate peace and harmony, which I do. But because I find the mere concept of Martin Luther King Jr. day offensive.

BURN HIM!

Now, before you start looking for my white hood, let me make this clear. I love MLK. I think he was a great man and I appreciate all that he stood for. The problem I have with MLK day is the same problem I have with EVERY commemorative holiday. It's not what those holidays represent but what they don't. By making a single day to celebrate civil rights and racial equality, you give people an excuse to be fucktard scumbags the other 364 days of the year.


365 on a leap year, bitches!

Real respect for racial equality and civil rights is an arduous process that requires a lot of labor and effort to realize. But days like MLK day serve as a cathartic way to release all of our feelings of guilt and responsibility in one fell swoop. Sure, I treat our hispanic cleaning lady like garbage, am afraid of every black kid I see on the street with baggy jeans, and told a joke about how terrible of drivers Asians are on Friday, but it's all good because I put up a picture of MLK day in my office and went to a rally at lunch!


Watch out, I bet he's got a knife... they all carry them...

Ah yes, thank you MLK day, for giving me the chance to absolve all my racial sins. But it doesn't stop there, because not only does MLK day serve to negate the desire for real civil rights advancement, but it also has the added bonus of trumping those who did so much for civil rights. By glorifying Doctor King, it tends to have the effect of ignoring and minimizing all that so many others did. Now, a lot of rallies or commemorations try to give lip service to other key figures, but, by and large, it's hard to give them their due when the holiday itself is named after one man. Anyway you cut it, their achievements and character are minimized.


Prude


Communist


Geek


Fruitcake


Whitey

Hence why I'm writing this post belatedly. I've got an idea. Why don't we all actually TRY to endorse civil rights now that it's no longer MLK day. Just, maybe try caring for TWO days this week. And we'll go from there. I know, I know, it's hard. But with baby steps, eventually, maybe we won't need an MLK day at all. Maybe, just maybe, the idea of NOT having universal civil rights will seem so absurd we'll take it for granted. After all, we don't have "Indoor Plumbing Day" or "Jonas Salk Day." I know, I'm a delusional dreamer but let's give it a shot. For the Gipper.

No Free Lunch... Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Banners

2011-01-17T08:00:00.176-07:00

Are you using adblocking software right now? Are you? Then fuck you. Seriously, please, do me a favor and turn off the adblocking software on my site. My Google ads are unobtrusive. There are no pop ups, no annoying splashes, no full motion video. And the ads are targeted, so they match the content of my posts... which, generally, means I get a lot about "restaurant deals" and "alcohol addiction treatment."


Google's Artist's Rendition of me. I do not own a hat like that, Google. Nice try.

Here is the problem. Nothing in life is free. Listen, when radio programs were invented and, later, replaced by early TV programs, they existed as a means of advertisement. A company owned the show, a company known as a sponsor. Not like the sponsor I have. THAT guy is a fucking douchebag. He never wants to do anything fun and is always talking about chips and stuff. Anyway, these sponsors paid the cost of the program in exchange for the actors saying who they were being sponsored and, sometimes, even throwing in little advertising skits into the show. If you've seen Mad Men, you're probably familiar with the concept. If a show lost a sponsor, they had to get another one or else risk certain death. They were pawns. Pawns in the game of Life.

This blog post brought to you by Life, by Milton Bradley. It's like Candy Land but with unplanned pregnancies and IRS liens.

Over time, because of this sort of all-or-nothing sudden death problem, networks moved away from sponsors. When one company owns the whole show they get to call all the shots and can perform a summary execution at any time. Instead, networks looking for greater control over their material began selling advertising spots to multiple companies. At first, commercials were still fairly limited and fairly long. Each hour show might have four ad spots and each spot owned by one company, running a one or two minute ad. Diversification continued. More spots were built in and time was sold in smaller increments until we got to the modern ad. Each break coming about every 7-15 minutes and spouting 4-8 thirty second spots.

Or, in the case of MTV, 12 spots breaking up every 4 minutes of horrible, horrible torture.

These ads make your shows free, in the case of broadcast TV, or cheaper in the case of cable. Other people pay for these shows so they can try to expose you to their products. If not for ads, you'd pay an arm and a leg for content. Like, you know, you do with movies. Eleven dollars. To see fucking blue people on pterodactyls. It's like I'm back in high school, buying special treats at raves again.

None of this should be new information to you, this is all standard knowledge. Now, the internet more or less works the same way. Sure, some people produce content out of true altruism (i.e. suckers.) But, largely, if you want entertainment, you're going to either have to pay for it or else endure annoying intrusion into your life while someone else pays for it. You know, like dating.

I'm going to give an impromptu economic lesson again. Sorry. It's your own damn fault for not doing the summer reading I required. I'll make this as short and painless as possible. Freeriding. It means you have a public good, something everyone supports, and some people take advantage of it without paying for it or use more of it than they should. There, that didn't hurt too much did it?

Now, let's talk about the Nash Equilibrium. Step 1) Sleep with Jennifer Connelly. Step 2) FUCK step 2. Let's repeat step 1.

This article explains how the problem is represented in television and the internet fairly well, but if you don't want to waste time reading it, the gist is this: Tivo and adblocking software allow people to enjoy the content of programs and websites while dodging the advertisement that pays for that content like a hippy dodges the draft. Or showers. Or gainful employment. Or clothing that actually fits. Or showers. The threat is less direct for television since the advertisers have no way of knowing their ads are being skipped. For internet authors, its more serious since a blocked ad is never clicked on, which drastically cuts down on the calculated revenue stream for their site. In either case, though, the long term results become very similar. Advertisers calculate the return on their investments. How much each dollar they put into advertising affects sales and revenues. When advertising on a medium becomes less valuable, they put less money into it. Which means less money to the authors.

Which means less money to me, those bastards. Now, on the flipside, I understand why people use adblockers. Hell, I use an adblocker. That's right, I'm a hypocrite. So sue me. But I've made a concerted effort to use the ad blocker more judiciously, rather than leaving it on all the time, for every site. The problem is when websites take advantage of you, when they add more and more obnoxious and intrusive ads. Eventually, those ads begin to interfere with your enjoyment.


MOTHERFUCKER!

In the end, there is sort of a difficult balancing act going on. Authors want to put in as many ads as they can, to try to maximize profit, but not be detrimental to their actual content. When they reach a breaking point, viewers/readers invoke the inner Howard Beale... you know, from the movie Network... oh Christ. Really? Go to fucking IMDB, you lazy heathens. Point being, when the viewer reaches a breaking point, they're bound to overreact some and bring the hammer down liberally and fiercely. But are you ready for me to blow your mind? Ready for it? By using an adblocker, you're actually hurting things. Okay, so maybe that didn't blow your mind. Go smoke a couple bowls and come back and we'll try this again.

Done?

Alright, ready? Get this: peanuts are neither peas nor nuts.


Like, whoa, man. Like..... whoa.

See, we get paid based on not only how often people actually click on ads but how often they view pages with the ads. By using your ad blocking software but still visiting the sites with the offending advertisement, you are increasing their views, their exposure and their revenues. If you really want hurt the companies or authors who employ underhanded advertising scripts then STOP GOING TO THEIR SITES. Boycott them. Pure and simple. I know, that's difficult because it requires self-control and self-control sucks. It sucks bad. But it's the most effective way to punish them. No page views, no clicks, no money.

You can also send another message by actually clicking on the ads on sites you do enjoy. And, you know, maybe buy some of the products. Use your money, your economic voting dollar, to support companies that employ reasonable ads. After all, the best way to make your voice heard is to show you, as the reader, appreciate these sorts of ads. You would rather they use these ads than the nasty, tricky ones that tries to steals your precious. Yes. They are soooo tricksies.

So, what is the lesson for today? Well, here is a simple, three step plan you can use to actually affect the ads used and help eliminate those annoying ads once and for all.

Source

1) Employ an ad blocker, if you must, but turn it off on any website you visit regularly. Save it for strange, foreign sites that may employ nasty, STD-like code.

2) If a site you regularly visit had intrusive advertising that is negatively affecting your enjoyment then DO NOT ENABLE YOUR BLOCKER. Instead, stop visiting the site regularly. I'm sure there are dozens of competing sites out there with equally valuable content that won't hammer you in the face.

3) If the site has simple advertisement that does not impact you, show support for those sponsors that use quality advertising. Use those ads to actually purchase what they have to offer. Buy products from companies that use advertising policies you support.

In this way you become a better consumer.

NOTE: This entry was edited so as to not run afoul of my good friends at Google. Please do not take anything I've said as anything more than general commentary. You think, as a lawyer, I would know better.

Hey Man, I Got Some Good Shit Here...

2011-01-14T07:21:00.004-07:00

This is Zynga:

Nothing says "good times" like a dog mascot that resembles Cujo.

If you don't know who Zynga is then... honestly, I just give up. I mean, what do you want from me? You obviously have access to the internet. Have you not heard of Wikipedia, either? Christ. Anyway, don't confuse Zynga with Xanga, which is a website that specializes in blog publishing, similar to Blogger, but is completely inferior in every single way to Blogger, one of Google's many, many outstanding products (empty smile.)

And neither should be confused with "manga" a Japanese form revolving around the relationship between school girls and their pet octopi.

Zynga is, in a word, terrifying. So as to save the ignorant few reading this a trip to Google, Zynga makes games. Well, that's a bit misleading. They make "games" like the guy down the street from you with the bathtubs, sudafed, and phosphorous makes "medicine." They publish a series of online video games, the most famous of which are probably FarmVille and Mafia Wars. These games are distributed as add-on packages to social networking sites and as applications for mobile devices. They are "free" on their face, but employ a micropayment system as a means of obtaining a revenue stream.

That is the first criticism launched at Zynga. Micropayment systems are becoming more and more popular in online and, even, purchased games. It was originally envisioned as a way for people, like me, to get money. Bloggers and webcomics and, well, porn, probably, were the original pioneers of the concept. You see, rather than me taking the minuscule amount of payment Google pays me for running ads on this site, I would eliminate the ads and collect the minuscule amount directly from you, my consumer. You could, for example, pay me one cent for every article you wanted to read. In turn, it would cost you about three cents a week to read this blog. Meanwhile, assuming I had a readership of about 10,000 (and, you know, a dinosaur to ride around on) I would collect about $300 a week. We're all winners!

Except the dinosaur, who can't really be fed on $300 a week.

The concept never really gained much of a foothold for writers, but was quite adaptable for game manufacturers. Game companies could develop a product that had a very low upfront cost, but would charge the user for additional content within the game. Maybe the game itself is free, or runs a few bucks, but when you need a new suit of armor for your knight or some fuel for your tractor, you spend another dollar here or dollar there. The concept itself, really, is basically fair. It's an extension of basic market principles. Everyone gets the game and each consumer gets to decide how much or how little they wish to expend on it. For the very casual player, they'll probably be content with the upfront content, while hardcore people will be willing to spend much more to unlock all that the game has to offer.

However, the success of many of these micropayment games hinges not on an honest transaction between vendor and purchaser. No, you see, the actual system more often than not approximates a game of three card Monte, only none of the cards is a Queen and, whichever one you pick, the reward is getting to pay and pick another card. Many of these games are a swindling of the crassest variety.

One of the core concepts that you'll often hear me return to is the greatest flaw in modern capitalist theory. "Imperfect Information." I've got many, many more blog posts ready on how this concept essentially cripples the modern market but you don't have to worry about those yet.

Do NOT make me get out the economic theory baton.

All that is important for the purposes of this particular diatribe is that you understand true, Keynesian economic theory turns on the assumption that both players know exactly what is going on and can properly assess the product's value to their respective selves. For example, take a normal video game. When I walk down the aisle and see a game for $50 I can ask myself "Do I really want to play it NOW?" I know how much it costs, I know how much I want it, hell, I probably even read a review on it to shed some light or played a demo. Micropayments are attractive to video game publishers because they disguise the real value or lack thereof. They do this through two primary mechanisms.

First, you never buy anything with cash in Farmville or whatever other game. Instead, you exchange real money for some fictitious currency. This is not a new concept, themeparks and such have been doing this for years. The idea is to divorce you from the real value of what you are buying. You buy 100, lets call them fbucks, for 30 dollars. Great. Now you go to buy things in game, and you see something that costs 20 fbucks, say a tractor. You, being the lazy consumer you are, don't calculate the real cost (which, BTW, is 6 dollars) you just think, "Well, I've got to spend these fbucks on something and 20 doesn't seem a lot, I mean, I'll still have 80 left!" Was that tractor worth $6? No. No it wasn't. That tractor was worth nothing. It's not a real tractor. It's not even a toy tractor. But you didn't do the math, so now you have a $6 piece of about ten lines of programming code.

Second, micropayments work because, well, its right there in the name. Micro. They are small. People don't want to spend twenty dollars. But they'll spend a dollar twenty times. It's easier for people to spend small amount repeatedly than one large amount. So, everything is priced really cheaply. In reality, the tractor up there would only cost a dollar.

Zynga also gives you SO MUCH to buy. Unlike micropayments for blogs, there is no cap. If I charged a penny an article, I can only charge you for each article I actually produce; though if I were making $100 a pop I'd be pumping out way more than three of these bad boys a week. But in a Zynga game, there is a world of stuff to buy. That tractor is a dollar. So is your house in the game. And a special cow. And the local village prostitute. And the "work juice" that makes your guy move faster. Before you know it, you've spent dozens of dollars on this meaningless crap.

Though, in your defense, its not like your real life purchases have been meaningful either.

It's in this way that Zynga's games hide the proverbial ball on you and suck you in to spending way, way more than you otherwise would. If Zynga honestly, up front, advertised the real costs and how much of this shit you really need to play the game, then you probably never would've bothered in the first place. None of this is news, however. There are many places on the internet that are detailing the... interesting methods of Zynga. For a quick introduction feel free to start here. Go ahead, I've already got your page view, if you don't come back it's cool.

Could you click on an ad on the way out? kaythanks.

Oh. You're back. Well then, loyal reader, let me tell you I'm not going to bore you anymore with discussing Zynga's douchebaggery. Please, hold your applause, I didn't say I'm done. The point of this post isn't about Zynga. It's about a greater problem that, really, sort of terrifies me. For those of you who haven't read the extracurricular information about them, let me give you the gist. Zynga doesn't make games, they manufacture addiction. Their products aren't designed to be fun, instead, they build upon an array of social psychology tricks to get you to keep coming back and playing them. Like an electronic heroin, they've been refined and synthesized specifically to make them more potent and more addictive. And that addiction is crucial.

You see, I'm a drug peddler. Not literally, I mean, I don't even have cool rims on my car. But as a metaphor. With each blog post I aspire to do two things. First, entertain you. If you're entertained then your body will release chemical triggers that make you feel good, make you develop a Pavlovian fondness for my posts. Second, I seek to get you addicted, to provide you with a unique experience that becomes a part of your daily mental regimen. That way you keep coming back for more. I'm not alone, though, this is basically how the producer of ANY serialized product operates.

No, this image isn't part of a pun. I'm just hoping to find sponsors like delicious Cap'N Crucnch from Quaker. Mmmm, I love it and its part of some sort of nutritious breakfast that also involves cigarettes and bloody maries, I'm guessing.

You want people to feel a need and a desire to keep returning. This is nothing new.

Still, for that past, let's just say forever, we've been operating in a certain dark ages. Most authors of such material went along like suckers, just trying to make their product as good as possible. They make their stories more interesting, their blog posts more funny, their video games more enjoyable. Then came social psychology. In its infancy, there was a large backlash against social psychology because many (especially after the Nazis got through with it because Nazis ruin EVERYTHING) feared that it would be use as a mass mind control tool. That is represented some sort of Pandora's box and once we began to know how to use it, it could be misused by people for power or control.

All the while laughing maniacally.

For the most part, their fears were unfounded. Social psychology never really emerged as some Dark Side Force. But, their concerns about the inherent evil in most people were not misguided. Not for lack of trying, but generally, no one was able to harness social psychology because of a couple of primary barriers.

First, we just didn't know much about it. Back in the 40s and 50s, when concerned citizens pointed at social scientists and called them witches and lit them on fire, the whole science was pretty enigmatic. Then came the 60s and 70s, when society embraced their research. For most of the second half of the 20th century, we learned that the social sciences just weren't that, well, useful. As light was shed on human behavior we realized how utterly irrational and bizarre it tended to be. Everyone calmed down because, it seemed, there wasn't much that one could do even if he did know all the secrets to mass reaction. But that has begun to change in the last couple decades. We've found more and more concrete principles and universal truths in social psychology. We've improved the science and the methods of it.

Second, was the fundamental issue of access. For social psychology to work, one must be able to access society. Thankfully, society has become sluttier and sluttier over the past century, allowing more frequent and deeper access. I'll give you a second to fully appreciate that image. Actually, I'll provide an illustration to aid you.

Society.

Newspapers begat radio. Radio begat television. Television begat the internet AND video games. Ah, the internet. Hello, old friend. The interwebs are perhaps the most intrusive of all medium. A newspaper requires active effort to enjoy. You have to physically get one, open it, READ it. Disgusting. Radio requires less physical labor and zero literacy but you still have to have an imagination. Television strips away any requirement for independent creativity. With each of these new forms, people became alarmed, each one assaulted more and more senses, asked less and less of the consumer and spread to a greater number of homes. Then came the internet.

Listen, I have a whole different article on the internet that you'll read someday whether you like it or not. But for now, let's just go with this premise: The internet reaches everybody and asks for almost zero effort from the reader to obtain access to vast amounts of information. It's even easier to use the internet than to tie a tube around your arm and plunge a syringe. Also, I could write a whole other article on the psychological implications of video games, but lets just go with the premise that they engage people like no form before them. Just assume these things for now, okay? Can you do that for me? I knew you could, Champ.

So now, the invasiveness of the internet, with its little work/high reward structure, and the interactive engagement of video games have finally allowed companies to mainline right into your brain. The smarter ones, like Zynga, have discarded any notions of developing better products in lieu of developing more addictive ones. Because, unlike me, who loves you and cherishes each visit we have together, they just want your clicks and your money. And they aren't alone. The internet is becoming more and more a place for companies that aim to get you strung out as quickly and effectively as possible.

Think of it as a sort of drug ally where all the drugs are free (or, at least, start out free with very small payments after) and you can't help but try them.

I learned it from watching YOU... tube!

Armed with their knowledge of psychological triggers and the finally possessing the tools to use them, companies have abilities and powers they never knew before. Every change, every advance they make is designed to tweak, to fine tune their addictive methods. They'll push every button they can to draw you in and keep you hooked. I want you to think of this post as a warning. There is nothing you can do to STOP people from doing this, nor am I arguing you should. These companies have a right to try to sell their wares and make a profit.

Instead, your best defense is just to be aware of how these things are affecting you. Are you still playing Farmville because you really enjoy it? Really? Running a farm, that's something you always dreamed of? Especially a virtual farm, where you spend money on shit that doesn't even exist. Are you playing this game because it really brings you joy or because you feel compelled to? Are you watching or reading a website because they have something worthwhile to say or because it brings out emotions in you that give you a rush? Just keep these things in mind as you peruse the internet. I'm not asking you to be terrified, just informed.

And keep coming back here for more information. Don't worry, I'll protect you, I'll keep you safe. Shhhh, there there. I'm here for you, no reason to leave. Oh, and if you could click on a couple of those ad links. That's right. Feels good doesn't it? Mmmmmm.

And Now for Something Completely Different...

2011-01-12T06:03:00.002-07:00

Shit, I've really done it to myself this time. I thought, hey, it's been a while since I've really written anything, it'd be fun to do that again. You know. A regular blog. Try to get back to having a readership like I once did. Maybe, you know, even make some money at it. The thing is, writing is a full time job. Hell, it's more than a full time job. It's a 24/7 job. I constantly have to be trying to think of new ideas, making notes, ensuring that creativity doesn't slip through my fingers. I toil day in, day out, devising humorous things to say and topics worth commenting on. It's a thankless, grueling task. A burden that slowly crushes me every day.

We're kindred spirits, he and I. I feel your pain, brother. I feel your pain.

I know it SEEMS like I just regurgitate whatever nonsense passes through my head onto a keyboard and click a "publish" button. But I actually care about my craft and I want to try to make insightful, intelligent, inscrutable, invasive, and incontinent posts. I aspire to ascertain awesome amounts of appalling assonance (albeit avoiding alliteration.) To find parallel structure. To use parallel structure. To reuse parallel structure. You don't get to where I am in the world through mere luck, by just throwing a ton of random nonsense out and praying someone will like it. No, it takes practice and patience.

And booze. Lots of booze. Oh, and it helps if you place very little value on your own life. And also, if you make many, many poor life decisions.

I know my last two posts have been political, but it is sort of hard to not be political when one of your state's Congressmen gets shot, your chief district judge and a little girl are killed and the national media starts its usual mindless, cannibalistic frenzy. Truth is, it's hard to continuously write about any given subject matter, I've got a terrible case of ADHD and-- oh, hey, I'm going to go get some ice cream...

... what was I talking about? Oh yeah, the toils of being a coal miner. It's a horrendous job. Marked by injury, crippling disease and gross maiming and disfigurement. Most miners lived short lives and were lucky if they didn't lose limbs or suffer burns or premature aging from the gases and chemicals they were exposed to.


This poor woman is only 19 years old, but she looks over 25.

Still, not as strenuous of a job as writing. Look, it's taken a lot of dedication to make this blog and this post a reality. I've had to give up valuable time to watch Lost or read Harry Potter. I've had to risk life and limb, chancing a sprained finger from typing or a headache from staring at a computer screen. Perhaps, most important of all, are the countless sacrifices I've had to make. I won't bore you with all of them, but some have hurt me very deeply.


This Jack Daniels bottle, for example, had several good years ahead but was struck down in only a few nights.

The point is, don't expect me to be writing with any common theme or purpose. Purpose is for suckers, people who actually still care about their lives and think that they mean something. I don't have the dedication to keep spewing forth nonsense about the same topic over and over. Sometimes, I feel like talking about politics. Sometimes, I feel like talking about sports. Sometimes I'll feel live reviewing movies. And, on occasion, you may even get the random post about the ins and outs of horse husbandry. There was a pun there, did you catch it?

This entry, for example, is about nothing. Not, you know, in the Seinfeld sense where each episode had a plot that sort of rambled. I am writing about literally nothing. And you are reading it because, hell, it beats actual work. Come to think of it, that's mostly why I wrote it, as well. Although, conversely, it actually took a fair amount of effort to write this post so I sort of failed in my slacking. Goddammit.

I lied, though, this post does have a purpose of sorts. It's meant to break the flow of the prior two posts, to switch up from the political ranting of those into just general, insane, pointless ranting. Consider it tension relief, a meaningless distraction to divert your mind from how quickly the world is going to Hell.

Which, BTW, is really, really quickly.

Speaking of which, Obama is talking at the University of Arizona today. Addressing the tragedy, etc. etc. I will not be attending, nor will there be much commentary on my blog about it. I just figured I should note it because it is notable. I'm more inclined to take a position of silent respect in regards to the people injured and killed this weekend. I've intentionally avoided talking about the tragedy itself much because so many others have said better, more eloquent things than I could muster. I prefer to not further muddy the waters with my own, lesser, expressions. I hope to move on to other, more important subjects in the coming entries. I'll throw in some short stories here and there. Anecdotes and reviews as well. And entries about technology, entertainment, sports, and, of course, the growing menace of bees and why you should be terrified of them.

Hint: Because they'll fucking sting you, that's why. Don't fuck with bees.

Pole Lit is I a Shun

2011-01-10T16:50:00.006-07:00

I take for granted that most people who might constitute my readership know I am political and know where I stand politically. However, in the, perhaps, delusional hope that my audience continues to expand, I will take a second to address those of you that might be less familiar with my habitat on the Ideological Spectrum.

First. I am a Republican. Now, most of the time, when someone gets to know me prior to learning of my party affiliation, they then, upon learning of my allegiance, do one of three things. 1) Laughter. Haha. Surely you jest. No, I'm serious, and stop desecrating Leslie Nielsen by stealing his material. Fucking plagiarist. 2) Confusion. Perhaps it is opposite day. Sometimes, people forget to mark opposite day on their calenders (or else, they mark every day but opposite day.) 3) Anger. As if I have betrayed everything they thought they knew about me. Sometimes, then they accuse me of drinking unicorn blood, to which I scoff. Do you know how expensive that shit is? I generally have to settle for a soy substitute.


In the case of the meat, the substitute is preferable. Also, don't ever do a Google images search for "unicorn" if you value your sanity.

Somewhere along the lines, we, as a nation, as a people, as a group of humans that sort of tolerate living on the same massive expanse of land as one another, have forgotten that party affiliation does not inherently have anything to do with a greater ideology. I am Republican because I believe in reserving power to the states. I am Republican because I believe in the free market. I am Republican because I believe in the rights in the constitution: all of them. Being Republican does not mean I have to support privatization of schools, or banning abortion, or burning books, or the mythical creature that is Ronald Reagen who, I'm told, single handedly punched Communism in the face with an American eagle perched on his shoulder while he pissed gold down upon rich Americans and watched it trickle, trickle down to the starving masses who had just been cured of their crippling drug addiction thanks to another war Reagen won. Being Republican does not make me either righteous or evil. It just makes me Republican.

I'm not going to bore you with the litany of where I stand on various issues, or what I believe. If you don't already know, you will learn soon enough, trust me. It's only important to know that I am Republican to shed some contextual light on the rant I am about to unleash. Are you ready? Are you ready for my witty, biting satire? My keen, intellectual insight? Alright.... here goes....

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?!?! JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GO AWAY!!!!!!!! YOU ARE ALL WORTHLESS BLIGHTS ON HUMANITY!!!!!

Alright, well then, good talk. So, I'll be shooting for another post-- Wait. I'm being told that I need more content in order to attract readers. Really? But there is nothing else to say. Jesus, alright, um... where to start...

And she could kick Palin's ass without breaking a sweat.

This is Gabby Giffords. For those of you who haven't heard, she was shot yesterday. Also, for those of you who haven't heard, there was a terrorist attack on 9/11. I know, it's a lot to take in. I'll give you a few moments to collect your thoughts...

Okay. So Giffords is not my congressperson. I live on the the outskirts of Tucson, in Raul Grijalva's District. There is a well-established history of my dislike of the man. Hell, I even flirted with running against him and, quite possibly, will flirt with it again in the not-too-distant future.

But, whereas I do not care much for Raul, I always liked Gabby. She's smart, hardworking, moderate and a true Tucsonan. I won't go on and on praising her. There are thousands upon thousands of sites that are doing that exact thing as I write this. Suffice to say, she's totally bitching.

Also, I don't do positivity. What I'm concerned with is the aspect of the past days events that makes me want to light the entire country on fire. It began before the blood had even dried on the pavement of the Safeway parking lot. "We don't want to politicize this!" Who was screaming it? The Republicans, of course. And do you know why they didn't want to politicize it? Because of this:

A lot of you are probably already familiar with this image. It provides a convenient snapshot of the problem. Of course it also goes hand in hand with Palin's statement that it "isn't time to retreat, it is time to reload." Other notable eloquent statements:

"I hope that's not where we're going, but you know if this Congress keeps going the way it is, people are really looking toward those Second Amendment remedies and saying my goodness what can we do to turn this country around? I'll tell you the first thing we need to do is take Harry Reid out." —Nevada GOP Senate candidate Sharron Angle, floating the possibility of armed insurrection in a radio interview, Jan. 2010

"Our opponent is someone who sees America as imperfect enough to pal around terrorists who targeted their own country." —Sarah Palin, while running for Vice president in October of 2008.

"It was only when Hitler invaded their (ed: liberals) precious Soviet Union that at the last minute they came in and suddenly started saying oh no, now you have to fight Hitler." –Ann Coulter, "The O'Reilly Factor," May 7, 2010

There are many, many others out there. You can feel free to research them yourselves and I see, based on my limited Google search that many places are already reporting on them. Hell, Chris Matthews warned about inciting language back in March of last year.

Now, before I go any further, let me say this: There is no indication the shooter in this case was a Tea Party member or committed this crime because this atrocious rhetoric incited him to. He is a severely disturbed and it seems like he had a personal vendetta against Giffords because of some his own internal demons. So, I in no way contend that the Republicans are to blame for this. Let me repeat that, in bold text, for those of you that are just skimming and looking at pretty pictures.

THE REPUBLICANS ARE, IN NO WAY, TO BLAME FOR THIS SHOOTING.

They are, however, to blame for the shameful way in which they responded. Almost immediately, I heard cries from Fox News and Republican pundits, even Republican friends of mine, saying how awful it would be if we politicized this. Make no mistake, the Republican party politicized this shooting before there even was a shooting. They were politicizing hypothetical shootings all last year. The party hitched its wagon to the insane ox of Tea Party extremism and rode that son-of-a-bitch all the way back to Congressional control.

Of course, like an Ozian Wizard, they projected a glowing, holographic face on Boehner and Cantor and talked about how they decried violence. Meanwhile, behind the curtain, they gave money to Angle and her Tea Party friends, they booked Coulter for their speaking engagements and, of course, they've continued to prostitute Palin out any chance they get then slap her across the face when she doesn't give them their share of the political capital.

In exchange for "campaign contributions"

And the Republicans know they've been disingenuous. They know they've been paying lip service while patting the extremist wing on the back and handing them the checkbook. That is why, as reports were still circling on who was dead and who was injured, they were condemning anyone that would "politicize" this. You see, there is one thing the modern party is exceptionally good at. Stealing symbols. They politicized the death of troops, condemning any Democrat who would speak out against the war as dishonoring them. They politicized the Constitution, reading it before the beginning of the latest Conressional Session. Now, what they've done, is a master stroke.

It would be one thing if they took the position of an adulterer. If they'd stood there like a cheating husband, caught in bed with his secretary, who started telling his furious wife, "Now, now. Let's not point fingers here. We've all made mistakes. Let's not focus on who slept with who and who got whose sister pregnant." Merely saying "Let's not politicize this" as a way of masking their own potential guilt would be clever but relatively banal.

No, what they've done is actually make "politicization" a weapon. They have stolen Giffords's shooting. When the Democrats come at them with just criticism about how their actions and policies have bread this sort of violence, the Republicans will respond with a chorus of "HOW DARE YOU"s and talk about how the Democrats are disrespecting poor Gabby Giffords. That's right. The Republicans are going to actually accuse Democrats of exploiting their own tragedy. Watch. It's going to be epic.

They say, on a silent night at John Boehner's house, you can actually hear Machiavelli slowly clapping.

The word "appalling" gets thrown around a lot. Like most words, its true definition has become somewhat apocryphal and, instead, it is used contextually interchangeably with a few dozen other words. As is often the case in the English language, the writer's decision to use the word has less to do with a desire to reach precise meaning and more to do with phonetic or poetic structure. One might use "appalling" as opposed to "disgusting" to obtain greater alliteration or in order to form a smoother transition between sentences. Here, however, I am calling this reaction appalling and meaning it in the strictest sense of the word.

The Republicans politicized a public servant getting shot before one was ever shot. Then, when one actually was shot, they politicized the potential politicization of it. That is appalling. That causes horror and dismay in me. It was not their place to talk. The only acceptable words from any Republican pundit were, "This is a terrible tragedy. My thoughts and prayers to those injured and the families of those killed." That would then be followed by the inevitable criticism of their tactics and rhetoric the last two years. The only acceptable words from any Republican pundit would then be, "I'm sorry. We never meant for this to happen. We will stamp out any such extremism from here on out." And then, you know, it'd be sort of nice it they actually DID THAT, but let's confine this entry to the realm of nonfiction.

Instead, they have the unmitigated gall, the arrogance, to start preemptively slandering Democrats. No one had politicized a goddamn thing and your statement of "Let's not politicize" rose to the level of accusation. Shut your mouths. All of you. Take a second to pay even the slightest bit of respect before you say or do anything else. Then, let the chips fall where they may. If you are to blame, if the American public follows the condemnation of Democrats, then take your punishment and move on, like actual, responsible humans do. And, if you are not to blame, then trust the American public will see that and will reject the condemnation and rally to your side.

But, that's really the problem isn't it? The Republicans don't trust the American public. They have to constantly control the story, control the media cycle, tell people what to think. They don't trust Americans to think for themselves. They haven't for years. Granted, they pretend to. They sit there and shout this dogma about how we're all free people, we're all responsible citizens. We should have a voice. We should run the government. Libertarian, tea party nonsense.

You want to know why I'm Republican? Because I believe in that dogma. I believe in that nonsense. And I, for one, am sick and goddamned tired of this party patronizing Americans. That's all this is, isn't it? You talk out of one corner of your mouth about empowering Americans, about giving them to tools to be responsible for themselves, then out of the other corner, you slander the Democrats who actually provide those tools. We want you to be educated, but we're disbanding public education. We want you to be able to chose your health care provider, but we're opposed to reforms that increase competition.

I am Republican because the party needs decent people. Not me, I'm a selfish, arrogant, bitter asshole. But I know there are good Republicans out there and I want to be able to vote in the primary so that THOSE people can represent the party. I'm sick of the hypocrisy. I'm sick of the fictitious outrage. I'm sick of watching the Republican oratory slowly rebuilt into a factory; mass producing straw men at a rate that would make Henry Ford shed an anti-Semitic tear. I hope that, when all is said and done, Americans won't blame the Republican party, but will start realizing the new movement within it needs to be eliminated. That it is in everyone's best interest, no matter your political position, to support the good, intelligent, respectful members of the party. And I hope, soon, those people might get more of a voice, instead of the ones with pitchforks and effigies. I hope people embrace a new, new movement.

The Republican Party is dead. Long live the Republican Party.

We're Receiving Conflicting Reports

2011-01-08T20:45:00.007-07:00

I was working on a couple different entries yesterday. Both got shelved at about 10 am this morning.

Let me start by stating the obvious. I am not a real journalist. I never went to J-School. I've never written trite copy for some independent rag. I've never toiled away a day, tracking down sources, rooting through public records, trying to get a story. I've never been to Iraq. I've never seen a disaster scene first hand. I'm not that guy. That guy is awesome, he's got some killer fucking boots.

But that isn't what you pay me for. Well, you don't pay me at all. But, in theory, if I had a significant readership, that wouldn't be what you feed my traffic stats so that Google could pay me for. You read me, or at least skim me, because I provide wit and insight into the world. I'm the guy that stands on the outside, casting stones at the glass house of the establishment. I sit on the couch and make snide remarks and profane observations.

But you WANT me on that couch! You NEED me on that couch!

I don't have awesome boots. But there is one thing I do have in common with the media establishment. We both suck at reporting the actual news. But, in a way, it's all my fault. Well, not MY fault, because nobody gives a shit what I write anyway, but the fault of my trade.

There was a golden age of journalism that peaked in the 60s and 70s. In those days, when dinosaurs still ruled the Earth and the Chinese were at war with the Egyptians, the news media consisted of only a handful of viable institutions in any market. In even the largest cities, you had three network broadcasts and maybe, maybe three or four newspapers. In a smaller market, three networks, one or two of which might have a local arm, and a single daily rag. The market for news was an oligopoly. Each of the limited competitors carved out their own little niche and brand loyalty reigned supreme. You watched NBC because you always watched NBC or you read the Tribune because that's the one you subscribed to or that was being sold on the corner store by your work.

Well, even that is a somewhat halcyonic view. In reality, you watched NBC because you loved Carson and their news happened to precede it or you read the Tribune because they carried the best comics. I mean, let's not kid ourselves, Americans have never been that thoughtful or enlightened. They go where the entertainment is. Again, this is how I stay in business. Or will, once anyone actually reads my blasphemy. But I digress, the point is most networks weren't concerned about getting viewers, but keeping them. Same applies to those icky things with the ink that required actual literacy. Consumers consumed out of habit and continued to drink from the same well unless that well became soured. It didn't matter if you had the story first because your viewership never even knew. They weren't paying attention to the other outlets anyway.

What mattered was getting it RIGHT. You beat a puppy often enough, eventually he stops coming up to you. The network has to make sure to get the story right, to make their viewers believe they were being honest and treating the viewer with respect. If not, then the viewer would change the channel. A story had to be sourced and resourced. It had to be proofed and tightened up before it was ever presented to the recipient. Journalists were paid to be right and to find out as much as they could. The more truth, the more facts that a reporter could uncover, the better regarded he was. And good reporters dined on caviar and baby seal meat.

Then, some asshole invented the internet.

Now the internet has been a boon for a lot of things. Porn for one. And, you know... Star Trek. And, well, more porn. It's also been huge boon for consumers of many products, such as music and books. Remember when a novel cost thirty bucks for hardcover? Or an album cost fifteen? That was due to oligopolies... well, in the case of music, actual, illegal price fixing that somehow those bastards got off scottfree on then used that new found confidence to imprison grandmothers and drive the parents children into poverty. Sorry, a little bitterness there. Won't happen again. Well, the reason you can afford books and music now is because those oligopolies have been broken by the mass competition of the internet. A bunch of rebellious young companies and, yes, even pirates, rose up to free the market and drive price down Golf clap.

The problem was, that same competitive force emerged in the realm of news services. Now, what happens when you don't have a price to get lowered. The media is funded by advertisers and offer themselves up like a drunk New Jersian to their customers. Cheap and smelling slightly of garlic. They have to find a different way to attract viewers. A different way to undercut the competition. But how? HOW??? FOR THE LOVE OF GOD HOW??? Brace yourself for the other side effect of mass competition: rampant disloyalty.

The average consumer now has so many choices. No reason to stick with one outlet when there are dozens or hundreds of sources. Websites and blogs and feeds, oh my! More options tend to make people more fickle. We feel a need to try them all out, to explore. So, we tend to move from provider to provider, maybe even on whim. I want to check the morning headlines. Maybe I'll see what the BBC looks like this morning. MSNBC's gotten boring. It's put on 15 pounds and hardly takes me to the movies anymore. Oooh, BBC drives a new corvette and is into Nietzsche.

So, off I go. Now, with no loyalty and countless rivals, how can anyone draw me in? Now, the goal isn't to keep me, for I'll leave on a whim anyway. The goal is to bring me back, or replace me with someone else. The media is just as disloyal as I am after all. It won't lie baby, it just want you for your clicks. Your massive, double D clicks. So, now... how to get a consumer...

Begin the clusterfuck of this morning.

A story breaks. A shooting. A shooting on the north side. A shooting on the north side at a political rally. A shooting on the north side at a political rally for Gabby Giffords. Shit man, shit. This is big. This is real big. We've got to get people watching our station. Shit man, how.

I'm sitting on my couch. I hear about a shooting on the north side at a political rally for Gabby Giffords. What hapened? I must know. I go to the newspaper's website...no good, they haven't even said that Giffords was involved. The national media website... no nothing. Local news! Oh, this is good, they've got that Giffords was involved. Was she shot... they don't know. Change the channel! No... no news from that channel either. Try another one. Good, good, they do know. Crap! Giffords was shot! How badly? Channel click again. No. Click. No. Click. No. Back to the computer....

Fuck man, fuck, nobody's watching our station. We didn't even know that Giffords was shot. Three other outlets had it first. We've got to get them back. How badly was she shot? FIND OUT! NOW! Wait, we've got reports from a different outlet. The head. Shot in the head. Run it, run it now. Dammit. We still got beat. We've got to get ahead of this thing...

It spirals from there.

Remember when Al Gore won Florida. And then he lost. The outrage over that. That was a somewhat legitimate mistake. Election results are often based on statistical analysis. And, while they pushed that analysis farther and father, to obscene extremes, they were still dealing with established probabilistic determinations. They didn't know that those determinations would be flawed. They also didn't know the obscene degrees to which Florida could fuck up an election. In the end, they were reporting on something that wasn't objective truth.

Today, the media was reporting on something that either true or not true, not a probability matrix. Yet, for a short period today, Gabrielle Giffords became Schrodinger's Cat. She was reported as dead on half the outlets and alive on the other half. Every outlet jumped as fast as possible to claim whatever "fact" there was as their own. Being first trumped being right. The terrifying thing was that these weren't blogs reporting on rumors from other blogs. This was NBC sourcing to NPR. How could such major establishments fuck up so badly?

Because, the internet pushed them to it. For years now, blogs and fringe media have gained popularity. The Smoking Gun and the Drudge Report. These are who "The News" has to contend with. These are who they have to get viewers from. So, they've gotten faster and they've gotten sloppier. People don't care about truth and in depth reporting. They want information as fast as possible and they pay with their attention for fast news.

I'm not going to hammer on how short the American attention span has become. At this point, it's basically a presumption for all that I convey. Nor am I in the business of assigning blame. Really, in a way, that's maybe the most tragic thing out of all this. Aside from, you know, all the people who were killed and injured, or not. Who knows anymore?

I am in the business of outrage. I'm also a cynic, though, so while I sell you on indignation, I also normally am surprised by little in the line of depravity. We're at the end of the day and a noted politician has been made to be alive and dead and alive again. For the record, she is alive as I type this. Her life, her actual life, has become the victim of rumor and sloppiness. Meanwhile, countless people's emotions have been toyed with. We've been betrayed and mislead. We've had to contend with shock, then disbelief, then confusion. None of which was necessary. None of which had to happen. That disgusts me a bit. Not as much as the political backlash soon to follow, but I await that storm for now.

For now, though, the part that disgusts me the most is how little outrage others have. There's been some commentary, some observation that the media screwed up, but no real condemnation. And of course there won't be. The media all live in their own glass houses, not daring to throw a brick when they either screwed up the story all the same or were too slow to be relevant in the first place. So here I stand, or, well, sit. Chucking snide stones into their walls.

Shame on you, media. Shame on you. You can botch the reporting on an election or on the content of a proposed bill. But how dare, how dare you fail on finding the truth about a woman's life. How dare you fail to report honestly and responsibly about a mother, a public servant. How dare you mislead us all.

And how dare we tolerate it. Shame on us for not demanding more.

No Wonder Everybody Hates The Media

2011-01-08T13:13:00.000-07:00

I will be writing a post later but, I want to note right now... the only things that disgusts me more than the shooting is the way the media has responded.

I'm intentionally waiting for events to clarify before commenting. That is more than I can say of the mass media outlets who would have you believe Gabby Giffords is now a horrible zombie.

Later today, same bat channel.

Make Your Own Twitter Pun

2011-01-06T08:30:00.001-07:00

I despise Twitter. This fact is hardly a secret. My basic criticism is that is serves no meaningful purpose in society. There is no niche it fills that was not already filled by superior forms of interweb medium.

As a social networking tool is is abysmal, inferior both to Facebook and that-service-that-shall-not-be-named-but-rhymes-with-Cry-Place. Those other services convey more information about the member, allow the member greater creative freedom, and support a wider variety of media.

As an information tool, it is redundant. Not only does it present little more information than mere headlines, but it provides so little latitude that even titles need to be abbreviated in some cases. So, any user who wishes to relay information must link to another site. This makes Twitter nothing more than a shell. A link depository. And, again, it provides no unique service. One can just as easily use Facebook or the-service-that-shall-not-be-named-but-rhymes-with-Try-Mace to post links or else the reader can simply subscribe to the millions upon millions of RSS feeds out there to receive headline links directly from the source.

Essentially, Twitter is wholly deficient in the one purpose it serves: To convey information, be it personal, news, or professional in nature. So the natural question is why, then, would anyone want to use it? Seeing as how it was, essentially, obsolete before it even began, how has it become so popular? I think the success of Twitter relies on three primary factors, each of which is indicative of the disturbing shortcomings of humanity.

1) Branding

Twitter is cute. Simply put. Look, a birdy! Who doesn't love birdies? Commies, that's who. It has a cute name, with a cute mascot, with an inoffensive - come hither design that the media LOVES. Also, the name lends itself to all sorts of oh-so-hilarious puns that talking heads so enjoy ribbing about. "He tweeted!" "Look at all these twats!" "Hollywood is all a-twitter!" Adorable. Like anything else, style often trumps substance. The same reason Apple stays in business is the same reason Twitter has become the de facto social media interface. It's cute and harmless.

Plus it promotes how simple it is to use. When I made my first blog, I did it myself, on my own webpage, hosted on my university account. This required two things: First, I had to have a working knowledge of HTML (and, later, CSS.) This meant I had to LEARN html and LEARN how to use the interface to edit and upload my content. This was an exercise that took a few hours and, later, took some continued learning to advance my design and improve the blog. Then, I migrated to this place and Xanga. Mostly out of laziness, for neither required I actually handle the messy sausage factory of html. I could more quickly and efficiently pump out my diatribes. However, I still had to learn to use its specific interface... there was some learning curve, however shallow. The same issues held true with using Facebook Notes and the-service-that-shall-not-be-named-but-rhymes-with-Sly-Grace. The second requirement of doing my own blog was that I actually have something to say (editorial aside, I originally typed that sentence as "something WORTHWHILE to say" but decided none of you are gullible enough to buy that.) I had to generate actual content before I clicked a "publish" button.

Twitter makes neither of these demands. It requires no knowledge to use beyond "type keys, click mouse" and its very nature is so undemanding. It doesn't WANT you to say anything worthwhile. Twitter doesn't have time for your shit. Shhhhh, baby, don't talk, Twitter's here to take care of you. Just say a few sexy words while Twitter looks pretty. Mmmhmm, that's right. When you only have a140 characters, pretty much anything you say is either going to be inane or abbreviated.

In short, Twitter is sexy and easy. The sorority girl of the internet.

2) Short Attention Sp-- Look! A birdy!

This has been my long standing criticism of Twitter and ties directly into my prior point. Twitter doesn't ask that you say anything so the reader doesn't have to waste time reading anything. My first point explains largely why people are drawn to use Twitter as content generators. But Twitter also has a distinct advantage to content consumers.

Look, up in the sky, it's an aside!

We have short attention spans. I think that is a fact that has almost become a truism. I may have misused truism there, but you know what, you aren't going to check. You know why? Because you don't have the fucking patience to go look it up! I are winner. You aren't alone, though, we all have short attention spans. Hell, I'm willing to bet no more than half the people who started reading this entry have even made it this far. And, where as a short attention span was mocked and ridiculed in the 90s as we began to treat Ritalin like candy, it has recently become embraced by society through the Myth of Multitasking.

The human brain does not multitask. It is divided into different sections that carry out different tasks, sure. That's why you are capable of breathing, driving a car and carrying on a cellphone conversation all at once. You have automatic systems that make sure you don't start choking for oxygen, muscle memory that allows you to operate the wheel and gas, and cognitive functions that let you carry on your oh-so-important-conversation about why Rebecca is such a skank. However, you are only PAYING ATTENTION to one of those things: That bitch, Rebecca and her ugly shoes. I mean, really, what was she thinking? Your higher cognitive functions are dedicated and can only manage one task at a time. "But wait!" You say, holding your finger up in the air for dramatic effect. "I can do multiple things at once. For example, the other day, I prepared a TRS report, while lisening to NPR, while arranging my calender for the next week."

You did all those things. But not at the same time. You were switching back and forth between each task. Perhaps rapidly, but still, one task at a time, in chunks of a few seconds or a minute or two. And each time you switch tasks, your brain has to readjust. So, actually, by doing all those things "at once" instead of taking them on one at a time, you almost certainly were either less efficient OR, more likely, just did a shittier job on all of them. Does it seem like everyone half asses everything nowadays? This is why. In our "multitasking world" our brain has two options. It can either take the time to wind up and wind down as it bounces from task to task, or it can just sort of jump start and we can do the task with our brain still not totally up to cognitive speed. And, since you want to hurry up and get done so you can go take your two hour lunch, guess what happens?

But, humans, as any Psychology 101 student will tell you (after saying some nonsense about Freud or Skinner or Jung) are inherently egotistical. We put the best light on ourselves. So, we call our half-assed rapid task switching "Multitasking."

Back to my original point. The average Twitter user is hip. She or he is dynamic, energetic and totally a "Multitasker." She doesn't have time for your "research" or "logic", grandpa. She only has time to read a bunch of short headlines about a dozen different things so she can get back to listening to the totally kickass new Weezer record. Or, worse yet, he is an important denizen of corporate America who must blaze through information so he can get back to synergizing and base touching and... um... proactivating. Therein lies the appeal. Twitter not only serves the laziness of not having to do actual reading or research, but actually feeds the egotistical belief that you have the work capabilities of Dr. Manhattan-but-with-pants.

3) Culture

In reading Twitter posts the other day, I discovered something. I don't have the slightest goddamn clue what many of these people are saying. And that may be the most important part of Twitter.

People want to be part of a culture, a niche, a clique, a gang, a mob. We want to feel like we belong to some special little group that is separate from the other peons out there. Now, when these groups exist in the real world, there are a variety of ways we can distinguish ourselves. Clothes. Music. Activities. Language/slang. But, on the interwebs, language becomes the primary and, in many cases, only way one can distinguish oneself.

Look, internet geeks have been doing it for years. 1ee7 speak allowed me to pwn n00bs. If you don't know what that means, it's okay, in fact, you should be proud of yourself. Still, while nerds have crafted their own bizarre languages, the masses on the internet were left out of the loop. Then came Twitter. So very many Twitter posts take the form of a bizarre code. There are common acronyms, like RT, @ symbols, # symbols, abbreviated words. All of which is designed to make one post flow into another and another. It makes you part of a coded chain. You aren't just some individual, you are @kutekitty95 and you are talking about how great #fishtacos are just like 500 other people who are chaining their comments about #fishtacos. And some might even RT you!

Hell even the links are indiscernable. Thanks to the modern industry of catering to the arbitrary 140 character limit, there are dozens of websites that exist only to redirect links to a shorter link address. It used to be, I could look at a link and see something like "www.creepy.net/this-be-child-porn.html" and decide whether it was worth my time investigating further. Now, I just see some ridiculous random string of characters: http://j.pm.ly/5ab9lz. Not only is Twitter just a shell, relinking real information, but it isn't even a particularly good one.

Still, its participants feel more closely bound by their little code, their subculture. But they don't really belong to anything worthwhile because, again, no one is actually saying anything. It's gibberish that's been coded to make it look more important.

Essentially, Twitter rewards three of the most banal aspects of humanity. It embraces laziness, shallowness, and elitism. It tells its participants "look, you don't have to work hard or even pay much attention to be more interesting and special than people who don't participate." It provides no true benefit, it simple feeds on basic psychological mechanisms to suck people into it without providing any tangible benefit that wouldn't be enjoyed to a greater degree elsewhere.

This is why I despise Twitter.

Having said all that, I am also a whore. Which is why I will be Tweeting a link to this post.

And you should totally RT me. RT me all.... night... long. Mmmmm, yeah.

Postmortem

2010-10-29T13:59:00.001-07:00

Finally getting a second to sit down and write up my final word on this little experiment...

... so, so tired.

Alright, first, the obvious question of how I felt this morning. Surprisingly, not terrible. I was afraid of a hangover for obvious reasons. There are essentially three sources of the various hangover malaise. The first is the most influential, dehydration. Alcohol drains the fluid from your body and, unless you make a conscious effort to supplement it with regular beverage, it can really take its toll. Second, is the feeling of exhaustion that comes from the rather terrible sleep that alcohol tends to cause. Finally, there is the fact that, often times, you are STILL DRUNK when you wake up.

I safeguarded against the first problem by drinking lots of water and eating ice cream and melon. I safeguarded against the second by... okay, I did nothing to help on that one. And I protected myself against the third by NOT HAVING A THIRD FOUR LOKO. Trust me, if I had had a third, I would have been absolutely boned. Zero I would have made it into work today.

I slept poorly. The caffeine hadn't totally faded and I already have a nasty tendency to have horrid dreams and hallucinations when I try to sleep drunk. So, it was a fairly restless, repeatedly disturbed sleep. So I woke up, and still am, tired. Also woke up with a bit of a headache. Not too bad, though, two glasses of water and 4 Tylenol later, plus two hours of healing time, and it was gone. So, really, overall, doing fine, no worse than after most drinking endeavors.

So, now, time for the final verdict. First, a review of the product itself. I shall grade it on a 1-5 scale on various criteria. This is also an amalgam score for both the semi-respectable Blue Raspberry and his disgusting, lurch of a black sheep brother, Watermelon.

Overall appearance: 4/5. The can itself is inviting and the actual liquids have a comfortable color. The raspberry is unnatural enough to remind one of candy while the watermelon could be confused for the cheapest of boxed wines. Really, though, that's sort of a slam to boxed wine, some of which are approaching palatable. At any rate, without knowing any better, everything about the aesthetics seems to embody a legitimate adult beverage.

Smell: 5/5. Really liked the odor of both. Honestly, both were very sweet and smelled completely innocent. No detectable malt liquor nastiness and pretty good facsimiles of actual pop culture food.

Taste: 2/5. Well.... let me put it this way. On one end of the scale you've got gasoline. On the other, Patron or Black Label or what have you. Let's call the gasoline scale the left side and the top shelf liquor the right. Four Loko is so left of center, you might confuse it for Al Franken (zing!) It's not good. This comes from the underlying design defect: It's malt liquor. Malt liquor is not fit for human consumption. Hell, if an inmate asks for malt liquor with his last meal, most prisons won't give it on account of an ACLU suit for cruel and unusual treatment. So, you have two options: Mask it with more potent flavors or throw your arms up in surrender and let it have its way with people's mouths (the prison analogy can easily be extended here so I'll give you a few seconds to make your own joke................ done? Alright, moving on.) Raspberry takes option A and ends up somewhat covering the taste of the horrid alcohol with sweetness and generic artificial fruitiness. It's not GOOD, but it is drinkable. Watermelon really is as bad as I claimed. I mean, I had already gotten somewhat used to 4-Lok and had a six pack worth of tastebud neutering by the first one and Watermelon was STILL nearly unbearable. It not only took option B, but it almost seemed to be accenting the horror. It wasn't throwing its arms up but handing the malt liquor shivs and screaming, "Cut him, bitch! Cut him!" on the sidelines. Just terrible. And it neither matches real watermelon or the bizarre flavor that candy companies have come to call "watermelon."

Effect: 4/5. This is the interesting part. The reason you all came to watch me put my life on the line. It is an odd effect. Truly different feeling. I won't repeat myself, I thin my prior entries did a decent job describing but, suffice to say, it was an experience.

Overall: 3/5. Not too bad. Better than cheap liquor or 40s, not as good as real booze. Also a unique sort of drunkeness.

Now the bottom line. Really, it comes down to two questions.

Would you do it again?

Yes, yes I would. It wasn't awful tasting and was a unique and, overall, decent chemical experience. Also, this shit is CHEAP. For $5 I got as drunk as it would normally take 11 beers to pull off. Can't beat that. I do NOT recommend this as an enjoyment beverage. You do not drink Four Loko for taste. It compliments no food that you would ever want to actually eat. It is for getting drunk, pure and simple. And, for that purpose, it meets the two greatest criteria you can ask for any drug: Cheap and effective.

Does it live up to the hype?

Sort of. Depends. Are we talking the "It is a dangerous combination of speed and alcohol" or "It is an awesome combination of speed AND alcohol!" Either way, the drink poses pros and cons.

Pros:

Cheap
Fun
1-2 will bring about an entertaining level of intoxication
The stimulants to seem to improve the overall "flow" of the intoxication

Cons:

There is a certain degree of masking
It's way to easy to chug or lose track of how much you drink
I think it might have GHB in it
Tastes like death

I will say this. I am now a fan and would recommend it to others but only with the caveats I've previously mentioned. Slow and steady wins the race, Mr. Tortoise. Meanwhile, the hare is vomiting up his kidneys and driving his car off a cliff. Wait... if he's already so fast, why is he driving? Cheating bastard. He deserves to die.

Please Mr. Attorney General. Don't ban this drink. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go regret weeknight drinking...

Still alive

2010-10-29T01:46:00.001-07:00

Smashing Success. Going to crash. Full review tomorrow.

Love

Luck

Lollipops.