Need...More...Turkey

Zombie Jason...needs more turkey. With stuffing. And graaaaaavy. Only Ramen at home. Turkey-flavored noodles...not same thing.

I had an eventful week. Last Tuesday, I went to a meeting of a sketch comedy group that arose from the primordial comedic ooze a few weeks ago. I am usually uncomfortable around new people, so I was forcing myself to chat and ask questions. Everyone was friendly. A good time was being had.

So it's near the end of the meeting. They had a show this upcoming Sunday and were doing group readings of the scripts so the director could cast the show. The last script had eight people in it, and everyone was tired of reading, so I thought: "I'll help out with the reading. I have a severe stutter, so it's not like the director is actually going to cast me."

I picked a small part, read it. On the second go around, I picked another small part no one wanted to read.

The next thing I know, the director says to me, "Okay, you're Swami. Meeting adjourned. Everyone, see you this Saturday at rehearsal."

What the f---? Hey, crazy director. I don't like performing. During periods, like the past few weeks, when my stuttering is very severe, I don't even like speaking. I hide under the covers when the phone rings and let my roommates answer it. Read my alpha waves: cast someone else. Like a monkey. Monkeys are funny. Everyone loves monkeys. Monkey monkey monkey monkey....

Alas, as it has been the fate so many times in my life, there was no monkey to be found.

I'll compress the rest of the week. In short, having to perform turns out to be very good motivation to work on one's speech. Confronting some of the avoidances I let develop in the past few months helped my feel better than I have in a long time.

The performance was yesterday, and it went very well. I made stuttering part of my character and made it part of the joke. We filmed the performance and ran it twice, asking the kindly audience to be a laugh track if they had to.

I got almost no laughs the first time around because, to both my pleasure and disappointment, few people laughed at my stuttering. After the first show, we introduced ourselves and I said I'm a real-life person who stutters. I think that made it okay for people to laugh because I got a much better response the second time around.

Overall, it was worth the stress and I'm happy that I got drafted into doing it. I might even do it again, if I can come up with a character who stutters.

Of course, this is assuming the circus still won't loan me the monkey.

Link Survey

Several years ago, a design class I took in college convinced me underlining words for emphasis is a horrible idea. I turned off underlining of links in my web browser, and after a short adjustment period, found it made web pages more aesthetic and eye-pleasing.

I rarely use other people's computers, but when I do (and links are underlined) the difference is shocking. Link-heavy sites like The Washington Post are now almost unreadable.

So I have a few questions and a suggestion. Do you have your web browser set to underline links? If not, what prompted you to switch? If you do, try turning the feature off and go sans-undies for a day. Give yourself time to adjust and let me know if you like it better.

You can find the setting in most broswers by going to Tools->Options and then selecting "Fonts & Colors" (in Firefox, the best broswer out there) and Advanced->Browsing in IE.

Him Name Is Hopkins

This site is awesome. Very funny and original.

Hopkins Update: BoingBoing has background info on Hopkin's Journey.

Cheese Sandwich Update

$28,000. The winning bid came from Golden Palace, an online casino that is developing a reputation for unusual publicity events. They paid someone to streak at (last year's?) Superbowl with their web site address tattooed on his back (link warning: this guy's butt almost turned me straight).

If you're sad that you're bid wasn't high enough, you can always visit their web site and get your own Virgin Mary Cheese Sandwich Commenatorive T-shirt for $19.95.

The runner-up bid was from Rabbi Harry Halpern, whose plan was to threaten to eat the sandwich if the Christians didn't limit their singing of Jingle Bells to 100 times a week per public space. When told of Halpern's plan, Governor Schwarzenegger said: "No! We will never reduce the singing of Jingle Bells. We will jingle all the way!"

Why Doesn't Jesus Ever Get Blamed for the Bad Stuff?

Jesus is like that guy at work who's friendly and pleasant to be around, but you don't really know what he does, and he keeps on getting promoted. When there's a screw-up, somehow he's never involved but he arrives a few minutes afterwards with a few pats on the back and consoling words. "There, there. We'll get another client."

Everyone brightens in his presence and forgets about their problems for a moment, and you do too, but there's this tingly feeling in the back of your head and makes you think, "Wait a minute. Wasn't Mertzsky Jesus's client?"

Or people say things like, "I have a potato. Thanks Jesus!" But no one ever stubs his or her toe and says, "Ouch! Damn it, Jesus, what the hell is your problem?"

There are plenty of bumper stickers printed with "Jesus Loves" or "Jesus Saves." What about, "Hey, Jesus. What's up with that Packers game last week?"

I'm all for being saved, but I want the whole package. That includes not leaving my house. It seems like all the people being saved by Jesus are the ones that have to do the leg work. Jesus, I'm so lazy that I'll go out in cold weather in a T-shirt and thin jacket so I don't have to remove as many layers when I get back inside. You want to save me, start by turning off my snooze alarm. The snooze button is like a rectangular Satan. Turn it into a duck or something. Then, after lunch, and a hot cocoa, we'll talk.

Delay

After being reprimanded by the House ethics committee three times in the past few months, Tom Delay, the Republican House leader, is currently being investigated by a Texas district attorney. The investigation is focused on his fundraising efforts for a redistricting effort in Texas he led that redrew the districts to knock five Democrats in Texas out of Congress. A Texas grand jury has already indicted three of his associates and is now focusing on him.

In light of this potential scandal, the Republican House members did what any self-respecting party would do. They rewrote their party rules so if Delay is indicted, he can still retain his leadership position.

Take a note, Bloods and Crips. That's how we do it, Washington-style.

Now, some would call the Republican's move an example of the unbridled corruption that comes when a party is in power for too long. An abandonment of the ethical principles they once professed to hold.

Say It Ain't So, Post

I love The Washington Post. The paper isn't perfect by any means, but overall I think it's the best in the nation. They do a lot of thoughtful, original reporting and have the best online site in the business.

Most recently, I was impressed with their "debate referee" feature after the presidential debates, where they examined the veracity of the statements made by the two candidates. I read similar fact-check features by the other major newspapers, and the Post creamed them in terms of breadth and detail.

So it really disturbs me to read that their Executive Editor Leonard Downie is planning on dumbing down the newspaper.

The Post just wrapped up its annual self-evaluation meeting, an offsite event that includes top editors and executives from the paper's business side. This year's meeting focused on the paper's declining circulation -- now at 709,500 daily copies, down 10 percent over the past two years -- and the results of an extensive readership survey taken last summer.

In an effort to win new readers, Downie said Post reporters will be required to write shorter stories. The paper's design and copy editors will be given more authority to make room for more photographs and graphics.

The paper will undergo a redesign to make it easier for readers to find stories. It is considering filling the left-hand column of the front page with keys to stories elsewhere in the paper and other information readers say they want from the paper, which they often consider "too often too dull," Downie said.

"Newspapers should be fun and it should be fun to work at one," [No. 2 editor] Bennett said.

Someone needs to make a Washington Post Barbie.

• "Working at a newspaper is hard. Tee hee hee!"
• "Newspapers should be fun!"
• "Words are boring. I want to see pictures that mooooove!"

I welcome any change to make information easier to find and understand. But not at the expense of content. In many news articles on political issues, the reporter is bound by the requirements of the pyramid structure and even handedness. The interesting details tend to be buried later in the story, and I worry that they will one of the many things that will be sacrified in the name of new readers, who, evidentially, don't read newspapers because they have too many words and not enough pretty pictures.

Because I Like To Feel Superior

Coincidence?

The Grey Video

Last February, DJ Dangermouse mixed music from the Beatles' White album with beats and lyrics of Jay-Z's Black album. The resulting Grey album was a brilliant meld of their two styles. It also drew the ire of the company that owns the Beatles music and was forced to be distributed on file-sharing networks and a few brave web site owners.

The video for one of Dangermouse's songs, Encore, was just released. It's well done and fun to watch. Catch it before it gets taken down.

Support Our Troops

The most popular bumper sticker today is a ribbon, usually yellow or red, white, and blue. with the inscription "Support our troops." Occasionally, someone will mix things up with a "Support President Bush and our troops" sticker, but the strain this Venn diagram puts on the minds of patriotic souls everywhere has limited its popularity.

I admire these people for taking a stand against the strong anti-troop movement that has arisen in our country and threatens to tear apart the fabric of our nation. Our troops need to know that we support them, and if putting a bumper sticker expressing this sentiment on our cars isn't the best way to let them know, then we might as well rename America "Terrorist Land" and get it over with.

I fear, though, that having become ubiquitous the message will get stale and lose its effectiveness in supporting our troops and combating dissent. So I made up several alternative messages that will soon be appearing in The Pancake City Troop Power Pack (9 stickers, $69.95. Five percent of profits will go towards a fundraiser to buy the troops a $14 million MX-140 missile. If we don't raise enough money, I will instead send the troops a dozen Hostess cupcakes, laid out in the box in the shape of a giant thumbs up.)

Alternative Slogans

• Support our troops…our drama troupes!
• Do you support our troops…or are you a child molester?
• Something NAMBLA and the NRA can agree on: supporting our troops!
• It's not enough to support our troops. Support supporting our troops!
• Support our girdles.
• Vote Yes on Prop. 182. What's Prop. 182? Supporting our troops!
• Say no to the sewer people who are recruiting a zombie army to attack the surface dwellers that have lorded over them for so long. Say yes to supporting troops!
• Do troops eat babies? No! So why don't you support our troops?
  
• Stützen unsere Truppen!
  

When Your Co-Workers Are Away

Practical jokes to play on your co-workers (link from LYD).

Oh, No!

Iraq is trying to build a nuclear bomb!

I mean, Iran is trying to build a nuclear bomb!

This time, it's for real!

It's a Dog Eat Everything World

Dogs are the culinary cowboys and cowgirls of the animal kingdom. They eat first, ask questions later.

I am a dog walker, and during almost every walk, my charge and I will pass several items that fall along the spectrum of food to trash: discarded napkin, candy wrapper, pizza crust, mud-caked paper, and so on.

One would think that I would just have to keep Sophie, a golden retriever I walk, away from the pizza crust and maybe from the candy wrapper if there is still traces of chocolate smeared on it. Just to be safe, since chocolate makes dogs sick.

Ha ha ha ha ha!

In the world of dogs, there is no trash. There is only food, food?, and "probably not food, but why take a chance?"

When I pass a balled-up napkin, Sophie will try to eat it. Sure, it could be a napkin. Or...it could be a napkin dipped in barbeque sauce! Or a napkin someone dropped after robbing the gravy store and fleeing the police. Or a delicious dog biscuit cleverly disguised in napkin form, a reward for any dog brave enough to challenge the orthodoxy of molecular structure and one's lying eyes.

A bloodhound can identify your scales of skin that you shed three days ago. Dogs have 40 times the number of scent receptors in their noses than humans. So does Sophie sniff the napkin for 1.5 seconds before deciding whether to eat it?

Of course not. Maybe that's what dogs used to do, but today's modern dogs don't have the time. I've seen Sophie scoop up a wad of paper, scan for grease and chocolate, and spit it out while my tongue is still lifting upwards to make an "S".

Sophie and I have a different reaction when she pulls off a successful eating. I feel guilty and frustrated, having failed to stop her from eating something that will either give her diarrhea or an upset stomach. She feels like she just pulled off the most amazing feat, like the con in The Sting or a bank shot off three walls.

I used to lunge to pull the offending substance from her mouth until I realized she was interpreting that as a lesson in the stupidity of chewing. Our current agreement is that if my attention slips and she eats something yucky, I won't flip out, unless it's extremely disgusting. A piece of bread with jelly on it: okay. If the jelly has ants on it, I'm doing what I can to swat it from her mouth.

She gets enough protein as it is from the ants on the pizza crusts.

Pancake City Bumper Sticker

And it's just in time for Chrisanukah.

More Miracles

The 38-city Virgin Mary 2004 tour is nearing an end, but she's ending with a bang. After appearing on a potato, fence post, side of a llama, and a oak tree (a perennial stalwart), her latest appearance is one of her best ever: a 10-year-old grilled cheese sandwich.

The money quote (CNN, link from Trash Talkin' Rodeo): "Duyser, 52, said she took a bite after making it 10 years ago and saw a face staring back at her from the bread."

There have been times when, in a fit of laziness and hunger, I've eaten sandwich meat or bread whose freshness was borderline at best. The food, 1-2 weeks old, was hesitantly downed. I was worried about getting sick and argued the decision internally for several minutes, sometimes even consulting friends about the life expectancy of a tuna fish melt left on the counter overnight.

Unless the reporter's editor removed the following sentence: "After considering the decision for over a year while consulting nutritionists, health professionals, and the International Nuclear Agency, she decided it was safe to eat the sandwich" then we have a much bigger issue than another appearance of the visage of the Virgin Mary. This woman, Duyser, is either going to die an agonizing death or mutate into a super-human monster. If it's the latter, we need to clear her neighbors out of the area and bring in the bomb because fools and madmen take chances with decade-old Velveeta.

The sandwich, of course, was put on EBay, where the bidding reaches $22,000 before they removed the listing. EBay's justification for taking Mary down was that it doesn't allow listings intended to be jokes.

Oh, no. This isn't a joke. The woman completely believes there is an image of the Virgin Mary on the sandwich. She also believes there are pelicans in tutus twirling on her bed while squirrels fly out of Robert Goulet's mouth spelling mid-air the words to "My Love is a Sofa" or whatever song he sings. You see, Ebay isn't accounting for a critical detail in her story, namely SHE JUST ATE PART OF A TEN-YEAR OLD SANDWICH. DO YOU KNOW WHAT'S LESS LOONY THAN EATING A TEN-YEAR OLD SANDWICH? EATING AN ACTUAL TEN-YEAR OLD. ON THE CRAZINESS SCALE, TEN-YEAR OLD SANDWICH CRUSHES EATING A SIDE OF BILLY.

Screw bidding on the sandwich. We need to start a fundraiser for this woman. Mental health professionals, pills, detox--these services are expensive and I don't think her HMO has a religious food clause in their policy.

Update: Damn it. I spent half an hour writing this post and just realized I misread the article. She took a bite of the sandwich when she made it ten years ago, and then stored it. I suppose this says something of my opinion of certain religious people when my first reaction is to assume that she was storing the sandwich for a late-night snack. I should have gone with my first idea: I'll renounce my athiesm and join the Catholic church if the Virgin Mary will appear on the cover of a gay bondage video.

Update 2: The cheese is back! (Thanks Evan). Although you would think with a $99,999,999.00 top bid, she would throw in the shipping for free.

Miracles

There are miracles of nature that are both breathtaking and rare. A double rainbow. A shooting star. A lunar eclipse.

Then there's seeing a dog poop while standing up. Brought a tear to my eye.

Mind Your Ps, Screw the Qs

You get to see one of the writing exercises I did today. Lucky you.

***

Perry Precinct presided over the popular People's Palace, a place of public pleasure that, privately, people portrayed as a pretense for the "Perfects" to push aside Peroria's paramount problems and play up their power over their pawns.

Perry's part in this predetermined play was perfunctory. Pass predictions. Perform with passion. Please the plebians.

"Perry! Perry!" Phineas pushed past the pair of pattern-mechs protecting Perry. The pats were unperturbed and permitted his passage. When proclaiming his presence, Phineas was as passionately a prisoner to a pattern as the pattern-mechs.

New Rules for Holidays

We need stricter criteria for judging who gets to celebrate holidays. For Veteran's Day, the only people who should get off are veterans. Or at least rename the holiday, "Veterans, Government Workers, Some Private Businesses, Groggy and Not Wanting To Come Into Work So I'll Call In Sick Cough Cough Day."

And Columbus Day is a joke. If you haven't subjugated at least one Native American in the past five years, get off the gravy train and go to work.

For Father's Day, your children need to have been planned. No more getting presents from accidents.

For the Fourth of July, almost everybody gets to stay home. The exception: Rush Limbaugh listeners and other chickenhawks, who get a two-week tour of duty in Iraq. And if there's room on the plane, we cen send over a few devout Christians who supported the war and think there's an asterisk next to "Thou Shalt Not Kill".

Rumsfeld: Fallujah Civilians Were Warned

(article link)

In a Fallujah home (translated from Arabic):

[ring ring]

Sadhri al-Alquaa: "Hello?"
Rumsfeld: "Hello. Is there a Mr. or Ms. al-Alquaa in?"
Sadhri al-Alquaa: "Who is this?"
Rumsfeld: "This is Donald. Are you Ms. al-Alquaa?"
Sadhri al-Alquaa: "Yes."
Rumsfeld: "Hello ma'am. Please excuse my Arabic. I've been out of practice since the 80s."
Sadhri al-Alquaa: "What do you want?"
Rumsfeld: "I'm just calling to warn you that the U.S.-lead coalition is going to invade the city tomorrow. Things could get kind of rough out there, so you may want to stay inside for the next few weeks."
Sadhri al-Alquaa: "The whole time? How am I supposed to buy food? How is my husband supposed to go to work? What are my kids going to do?"
Rumsfeld: "I know it will be very trying, but you'll just have to bear through it and…and…excuse me." [Rumsfeld coughs several times and clears his throat]
Sadhri al-Alquaa: "Are you alright?"
Rumsfeld: "I'm fine. My voice is just getting sore. I've been talking for a few days straight now."
Sadhri al-Alquaa: "Wait a minute. Are you calling every single one of the 250,000 residents in Fallujah?"
Rumsfeld: "Oh, no. Of course not. Gen. Tommy Franks is doing L-Z."
Sadhri al-Alquaa: "…But most of our names start with 'al'."
Rumsfeld: "I know that now. Tommy can be very good at getting out of work when he wants to."
Sadhri al-Alquaa: "Well, I appreciate you going out of your way to warn us. I'll see if my family wants to stick it out or move in with our relatives."
Rumsfeld: "Where are your relatives?"
Sadhri al-Alquaa: "Tikrit."
Rumsfeld: "Do you have any relatives in other places?"
Sadhri al-Alquaa: "I have a few cousins in Baghdad."
Rumsfeld: "Uh, yeah. The thing about Baghdad is--"
Sadhri al-Alquaa: "Okay. Najaf?"
Rumsfeld: "That wouldn't be a good idea."
Sadhri al-Alquaa: "Samarra?"
Rumsfeld: "Nope."
Sadhri al-Alquaa: "Kut?"
Rumsfeld: "Sorry."
Sadhri al-Alquaa: "Sadr City?"
Rumsfeld: "Are you kidding?"
Sadhri al-Alquaa: "Ramadi?"
Rumsfeld: "No…wait. What was that last one?"
Sadhri al-Alquaa: "Ramadi?"
Rumsfeld: "Oh, god no. Especially not Ramadi."
Sadhri al-Alquaa: "Hock ba-sarat! That's all the Iraqi relatives I have. My only other option is to sneak into Iran and have my family stay with my husband's half brother."
Rumsfeld: "Look, this is on the hush hush, but you do NOT want to move into Iran right now. Especially if you're still going to be there in January."
Sadhri al-Alquaa: "I guess we have no choice then. We'll stay here."
Rumsfeld: "Okay. But don't say I didn't warn you."

The Five Stages of Grief

As they relate to the election.

Denial
I can't fucking believe this.

Anger
What the fuck is wrong with people?

Bargaining
I promise to be happy that Bush won if he promises to stop being such a fuck-up.

Depression
We're so fucking screwed.

Acceptance
I'm moving to Canada.

***

I am struck by how many people seized on Elizabeth Kubler-Ross' "Five Stages of Grief" to deal with the aftershock of the election.

Kubler-Ross proposed the stages in her 1969 book "On Death and Dying" as a description of the process terminally ill patients go through in accepting their illnesses. The stages quickly metamorphized and entered pop culture as an outline of the way people handle grief in their own lives.

For me, the stages aren't distinct segments that I go through and move on, never to return. They're more like favorite restaurants I revisit repeatedly, some more than others because Denial and Anger run coupons in The Washington Post often and the maitre'd at Acceptance Lounge and Piano Bar hates me ever since the last time I visited.

What happened is that the restaurant was closing, and the maitre'd came over and said in a snide voice, "If you need to be reminded what types of payment the establishment accepts, I will be happy to refresh your memory." I got up from my table and responded: "That won't be necessary. I got something you can accept: a punch in the stomach."

The maitre'd wailed. "What are you doing?" I cocked my fist. "It's called a mandate...for kicking your ass." I punched him a few more times and then walked about the door.

So it will be a while until I can visit there again. But isn't America awesome?