Things I Hate.

1. The word 'basically.' You can use it one of two ways:

The first means you believe the person(s) you are addressing is such an idiot that the knowledge you are about to share is much too complicated for his or her infinitesimal brain and therefore you are watering it down to a level suitable to your ape-like intellect:

'Basically, you mentally deficient chipmunk, Citizen Kane is about a newspaper man and his sled.' No, its simultaneously a tribute and criticism to the life of William Randolph Hearst; and it's a testimony to the way money and power can slowly degrade a man's soul, until that person would be unrecognizable to the young child he once was. See? That wasn't that hard. And not one use of the word 'basically.'

The second way, is it's used in the vastly more irritating manner of saying "basically" and then detailing everything you needed to say anyway. 'Basically, a wormhole is as a hypothetical topological feature of spacetime that is fundamentally a 'shortcut' through space and time, which can be viewed as a 2D surface that, when 'folded' over..." [editor's note: That's from wikipedia. Like I know what the fuck a wormhole is, other than that cool open-y thing on Deep Space Nine.] That's not a basic description, is it?

2. The word 'pickle.' Try to say it without sounding like a pedophile.

3. Gary Busey. Nick Nolte.

4. Celebrity filled tribute concerts. Instead of using a small city's worth of electricity in your concert meant to 'save the rainforest,' whatevertf that means, how 'bout you go out and plant a tree? Or use the MILLIONS of dollars it took to put on that concert, and buy a tract of rainforest that you can actually protect. You're raising awareness? Raise this [editor's note: I just grabbed my crotch.]

5. The phrase "Apples to Oranges," meaning 'incomparable." Since when has the english language become so confined that you can't compare apples to oranges?

Apples are a red, green, or yellow fruit with a thin, crisp skin, and an inside, or 'meat,' that is sweet, slightly grainy, and dry in comparison to oranges. Also they can be made into pies. Oranges, my friends, are an orange [or reddish yellow, if you are going to make an argument against tautology] colored citrus fruit with a very thick skin and a meat that is watery, cellular, and a bit tart. If you try to make these into pies, you'll get a disgusting slop. However if you squeeze a peeled orange over a bottle, you get a delicious juice. Squeeze an apple over said bottle, you get strained fingers.

Apples and Oranges = Compared.

6. People who defend Michael Bay with "he knows how to shoot an action scene." Yeah? So do these guys:



7. Michael Bay. God help me if you get your grubby little mitts on a Thundercats or Zelda script. You stay the fuck away from Link, do you hear me??

8. People who are famous for no discernable reason. No I'm not talking about the Paris Hiltons of the world. She has a reason--she's a trampy ho bag at whose grotesqueness we can stare for hours. Man that was a poorly constructed sentence. Anyway, no I'm talking about people whose names I don't even recognize until they are hosting SNL, or in the news for some stupid comment they made that has made everyone's panties bunch up. I'm talking to you, Perez Hilton and Zac Efron.

9. People who casually use the phrase "honestly" or "to be honest with you." You either are implying you are normally a pathological liar, e.g. this guy:
Or you sound like a salesman.

"Usually I'm a sack of shit, Neil, but today I wanted to give you a really special deal. The Firestone Tires credit card will save you $50 on this purchase, and--now remember most things that come out of my mouth are libelous filth, but not today--it's really about your financial security."

10. Improper use of quotation marks. At a store I once worked at, there was a sign that said:

"Fresh" Limes.

Stories Stories Stories!

Oh man it's been an exciting week!

Ok, so there's been a big problem with my roommate--cock nuggets--turning on the AC no matter what temperature it was outside. So if it's 55 degrees, he still turns on the AC at 65. This alone is ridiculous, but think about how freaking cold 65 degrees is! Also, keep in mind he hasn't paid electricity in 2 months, so he doesn't give a shit about how much that temperature is going to cost in bills.

So yeah, its been me against him, mano e mano. He turns on the AC at night, I wait 3 minutes and turn it off. He turns it down, I turn it back up. You get the idea. I come home last night, and there is a sign posted above the thermostat. It was written by my other roommate, cookie tits. The note:

"WHOEVER TURNED ON THE HEAT IN THE MIDDLE OF SUMMER [editor's note: yes summer starts in May here] TO 82 DEGREES, DO IT AGAIN AND YOU NO LONGER CAN STAY HERE! ONLY NEIL IS ALLOWED TO TOUCH THE THERMOSTAT FROM NOW ON! IF YOU PAID ELECTRICITY, PERHAPS YOU COULD TOUCH IT. BUT SINCE YOU DON'T, GO TO HELL."

An hour later, there is a new note from cock nuggets:

"Maybe if it wasn't 90 degrees in my room I would pay rent and bills!"

Well...that's not logical. Of course I had to chime in.

"Wait...that's an option? If we aren't comfortable we don't have to pay? By that logic shouldn't you have paid as soon as you turned it down to 65 degrees? What about in February and March when you were comfortable? Why didn't you pay then? Is there anything else we can do to make you more comfortable, besides the free rent, free bills, and the food you steal?"

Cookie tits came home and of course saw what cock nuggets had wrote and, long story short, he was gone when I came home today.

But the story doesn't end there.

Sine it's hard to move everything you have in a few hours, Cookie Tits agreed that Cock Nuggets could keep his big stuff here until a truck could come to grab it. Well, wouldn't you know it a truck pulls up just a few minutes ago. However cock nuggets wasn't in it. Instead a guy comes to the door and says that cock nuggets owes him a lot of money and...while this may be weird...could I grab some of his stuff as repayment?

Well this was exactly how Michael has been (unknowingly) paying me back for the food of mine he steals. So who was I to stop this, I assume, upstanding gentlemen from taking his just payments? Why, I'll even help him look for the valuable stuff?

Turns out he keeps his stash of pot under his mattress. Who knew? Also who knew that his entire stash would be more than enough as a repayment for the money he owed to this guy?

I feel I made the world a better place today.

Michigan's woes.

A few years before America's entry into WWII, and in the midst of the Great Depression, President Roosevelt started ramping up war materials production in order to supply Britain, Australia, and others as outlined by the Lend-Lease Act. To do this, he essentially told the big automakers that they were going to make some damn planes, tanks, and bombs, and he didn't want to hear any of their guff. FDR was big on using both his literal and metaphorical backside of his hand on corporations.

Fast forward a few decades, and America sees themselves in the midst of what I'm going to term for now a Great Recession. And wouldn't you know it, our President is using his backhand on GM and Chrysler like they were a bunch of coke whores failing to give us a cut of their BJ money. Except Obama's being way more of a pansy, and simply firing a CEO here, and forcing dumbass deals with Italian automakers. (Seriously...the Italians are saving us? Fuck me...).

Then we have this whole Boil Our Oceans problem going on. (Don't you think that would get more attention than 'Global Warming' and 'Climate Change?') The biggest contributor to this problem is the production of energy through fossil fuels. Sure we have the Saudi Arabia of wind in the US. And sure, with offshore windfarms most coastal (including Great Lake) states could produce 100% - 200% of their energy by wind. But we have this problem. No one really has the ability to mass produce windmills on such a scale to really make this viable yet. Also no one has the money to create the production foundation necessary to make these windmills.

I mean, where are you going to find a huge pool of labor highly trained in steelworking, machine tooling, and advanced manufacturing technology needed to make windmills on a huge scale? Why, one would need a whole city trained to do that. And a city that doesn't have such competing interests that the labor pool would be bled towards other pursuits. And you would really hundreds of factories with assembly lines designed to be flexible enough to produce new designs on an almost constant basis. Where could someone possibly find that?
...

So instead of firing CEO's, forcing poorly formed mergers, and handing out millions and millions in funds to keep the auto industry alive, even when its clear right now that no one is really interested in purchasing cars, why don't we do this:

Make the cash to GM and Chrysler available not as a bailout but as an infrastructure loan. Tell them to get this loan they are going to have to be prepared to, at least temporarily, change their product. Then with allll that money we've set aside for green training, and towards creating wind markets, start change Detroit from the Gotham its become?

Yes, there is a somewhat limited market for windmills (although not THAT limited. These things have a finite life, and markets like China, Russia, Greenland, Canada, Brazil, etc, are RIPE for wind production.), but the change doesn't have to be permanent, and can be phased back towards car production as the market dictates. Plane, tank, and bomb production wasn't a permanent features after WWII (depending on your outlook of the Military-Industrial complex), and the transition for the car manufactures back to car production was a relatively painless one.

I know this isn't a novel idea, and Michigan's Governon Granholm (or whatever her name is. I'm too lazy for wikipedia), has supported it in numerous speeches. But I really only see words right now ('We should do this!') and no federal official--Michigan can't do this on their own--stepping up to the plate.

Or maybe I'm just ignorant on plans in place to do this. If not, how do we pressure the government to move towards this? Or is this just a shitty idea?

This is the funniest picture I've ever seen on an internet ad.

Oh man! After undertaking the enormous responsibility of bringing a life into this world, I never thought I may have to plan for the future! Fortunately this picture of an unattended child in the middle of a cemetery really brought home the idea that perhaps life insurance--one of the most basic of all insurance that many have from the time they are a teenager--would be a good idea. Thank you random bawling child in the middle of a cemetery. BTW, where the fuck are your legal guardians now that your parents have kicked the bucket? Or did they not plan that far ahead? Maybe they only got their parenting advice from internet ads, and thought life insurance was all that's necessary. Why are you crying anyway? You have $500,000 coming to you. Now stfu with the crying. Be a man.

Also, wear a suit to a funeral.


Do you think the people who took this picture had to punch the kid to get those lifelike tears?
I can only hope.

And when I die...

I've always had two preferred ways to dispose of my mortal remains once I'm gone. One, the less preferable way, is to have my ashes shot into space. Yes, you can do it. There are companies that even have rockets (large ones too) set up at your 'burial' to put on a show. Don't believe me? Boom: http://www.memorialspaceflights.com/

The second, preferred method, is direct burial into the ground. I want some non degradable mementos buried with me, and then some sort of fruit bearing tree planted directly on top of me. That way, when my great grandkids are eating "Grandpa Neil's apple pie" they don't know how literal their actions are.

Now, thanks to Explosm, I have a third way, possibly even more preferable than the rocket method. The pirate treasure method.


Preferably a treasure map will be created and hidden in the archives of a library.

Also, I want a note hidden in the chest mocking any treasure hunter.

Other death wishes:

I want a party, a large one, as my wake.

I'm serious about the tree thing.

Purdue Galore

2 weeks until my visit to Indiana, and the stars are aligning. Why do I say this? Simple.

Yesterday I was up at 8 am. That's 'sleeping in' for me now. Sad, right? Anyway, I turn on the food network, as I am oft to do, and what is on, but this!



Ok, so a good way to start the day, right? Next stop, the farmers market, which started again this weekend. Because this was the first day of the year for the market, it was PACKED. Everything I needed or wanted was sold out. What's a guy to do, but go to a used bookstore and make the most of the day. Out on the sidewalk they had tables set up with $1 books.

And I found a first edition Penrod and Sam, by Booth Tarkington. Who's Booth Tarkington, you are asking? Only the second coolest author to have a Residence Hall named after him at Purdue University! That is--this one. Who is the coolest author to have a Residence Hall named after him at Purdue, you may be asking? Robert Owen of course, for 3 reasons.

1. He termed the coin 'Dinosaur.' (I think.)
2. His dad was Robert Owen, certified badass.
3. He himself was a certified badass, as evident from his statue at Purdue. A picture of which, I can't find.


It's Easter today. No church for me, but I am going used book shopping. That counts as some sort of worship, right?

One more thing, regarding the video of the Triple XXX. Was it just me, or was the owner the worst story teller ever on TV? Surely you had some time to prepare. Hell, make up some stories, ask the customers. I sure as hell could tell you a much better story about Triple XXX.

What's that? You want to hear it?

OK.

So there I was, knee deep.

It was freshman year, and Levi, myself, and my roommate had just gone to some sort of comedy show. We decided to hit up the Triple XXX. This was before my roommate stopped bathing, so I didn't mind spending time with him.

It's about 1 am, and we had just ordered. These two drunk, older middle aged men (50 - 60) came in with their sober wives. They sat right across from me and struck up some conversation. One of them, Dave (?) struck up a conversation with everyone there. The other one, however, just stared at me. Not for a short time--no, his eyes never left me. Even his wife noticed and tried to get him to stop. No go. After about 10 uncomfortable minutes, during which I tried to ignore him, he finally yelled at me "Your parents hate you!"
Wife: "Now George, stop that!"
George: "Get that fucking thing out of your eye!"--It should be noted here that I had an eyebrow ring at the time.

I said something along the lines of my parents don't give a shit.

George: Bullshit they don't! Get that shit out of your eye or I'm going to rip it out of there for you!

By this time the restaurant was pretty quiet. Or at least as quiet as the Triple XXX gets.
He then proceeded to explain how my parents hate my eyebrow ring, and until I remove it I'll be a disgrace in their eyes.

Me: So do you have a tattoo?
George's wife: OOOH!! He's got you there!!
George: That's fucking different! My tattoo means something to me! Get that shit out of your eye right now!

He started to get up out of his chair, at which point Dave--who had been schmoozing with the customers the whole time, came over and calmed him down. It turns out the 2 couples were celebrating because Dave's wife, who had Leukemia, had just gotten her latest round of test results back. She was leukemia free. Because of her meds though, she still wasn't able to drink.

Dave bought me, then everyone in the restaurant dinner. And George, while continuing to stare at me, finally gave up his threats of 'ripping that shit out of your eye.' I avoided him on my way out, however.

Short bursts of updates

I'm working on a longish (for a blog, anyway) essay on my generation's tendency to sublimate academic rigor into passionate reactionary tendencies. My ability to do this is being directly blocked by the internet and my need to eat meals. Until I can finish it, I thought I'd post some quick life updates.

The last few weeks have been crazy busy!

The Monday before St. Patrick's day saw my old SR, Kathleen, visiting Charleston with her little sister. We hit the town and I wasn't back in bed until 4 am. It had been a long, long time since I've done something like that. The next morning I had a meeting at 7 am. Yup, 2 hours of sleep. Also, Laila (!) came to visit that next day! She was driving to Myrtle Beach for her spring break from NASA. I got one day of peace after that, but then she stopped by on her way back in. Needless to say I was more than a bit tired, but sleep was not to be had.

Two days later I drove down to southern Georgia to visit my parents on their vacation. They came to Charleston just a few days later and wined and dined me. I finally got to try some of the culinary fare that makes Charleston the greatest American culinary destination, bar none. I've dined in most major American cities, and most of the major western countries. I've experienced escargot in Paris, and Nathan's Franks in NYC. This was the best. I can also now say I've dined in the same restaurant as George Washington once dined. It goes along with my goal of participating in the action for which an historical building was constructed. This is not often possible, but fortunately Charleston is quite an open city for this type of experience. Usually this means worshiping in historic churches, so a restaurant was a nice change of pace.

The last day my parents were here, Brandon and Amber came for a long weekend. I wish the weather was a bit better for their experience, but I'm glad they came nonetheless.

Friday we hit the town, saw an impromptu fashion show, hit all my favorite bars, and then ended up in a strip club at 3 am. I don't remember much at all of the club. I do remember their toilets were surprisingly clean. This is good when you have to hug one for an extended period of time.

Somehow I was the one too drunk to function, but Amber was the person too hungover to do anything the next day.

We saw I Love You, Man. Typical comedy, but Paul Rudd's performance is remarkable. You don't expect much dedication towards craft in a comedy like that, but...really he did a good job. It was also interesting that the comedy avoided the typical raunchiness associated with bromances. The sex jokes were pushed onto the female side characters, and the two male protagonists discussed topics of vulnerability, commitment, love. It was an interesting twist.

Right now I'm constructing a Beeker costume for my APRIL 25TH VISIT TO INDIANA!!! I-Bash, Breakfast Club, and maybe even a job interview thrown in for good measure.

This month I get an extra paycheck. While half of this has already been used to purchase my airplane ticket, and a lot will be used on my trip, I still think this means I won't have to worry as much about money this month. In May I've been offered a week of dogsitting. They pay $50 a night. That's essentially another paycheck, this time without expensive travel plans. June I have a gig that's paying 1500 in cash. July I'm done. In other words, money troubles are hopefully finished. At least until this gig ends and I'm jobless.

Speaking of which...if you know of anyone hiring for July. Let me know.

Chelsea's coming this Monday. I've been counting towards this day since January. It will honestly be the highlight of the year. Although it's her birthday while she's here. So...no pressure to show her a good time.

Law/Grad school plans still up in the air. Blech. I'm lazy. I haven't even filed/looked at my tax forms yet.

Patrick's a cockbag. No reason for saying this. I just know he reads regularly.

Hmm. Yeah ok, I think that's the end of the newsfeed.

Oh yeah! Last Friday marks the 15 week countdown until my last day. Tomorrow marks the 90 day countdown. Can you tell I'm excited. Yup. I've loved this experience, love AmeriCorps and all it represents. Hate my program.

Congratulations to ANY Vermonter who wants to get married. 46 more states to go...