Greetings from New Zealand!

It's neat here. I'm in Auckland, which is sort of lik a rainier, quainter Los Angeles. The All Blacks do this thing called the haka before the game, and it's awesome.

Being in a different country makes me realize how much my own country's government terrifies me. I was terrified at the airport. I'm terrified to come back.

The people I'm staying with say that the American government isn't as smart as I give them credit for, but when you hear stories like that one about the man from eastern Europe on holiday who ended up in gitmo, it's hard not to be scared.

People in New Zealand aren't as paranoid as in America. But I guess that's to be expected.

Bombs and Id

So today I was sitting outside a grocery store, reading a so far fascinating book about dying languages, when a man and a woman in their late-fifties come out of the store. The man and woman were having a conversation with each other, and it seemed like they hadn't known each other before today. Now, I don't know what their conversation was about, but I heard the man say, "You know what it is? Technology has changed, but we, as humans, haven't."

And that was very true, and it got me thinking. I was remembering a similar sentiment expressed in An Inconvenient Truth.

I thought for a while about primitive man and animals. I have a general idea of what humans were like then: they killed when threatened, rivaled, or when they needed to survive (a more modern example would be the Donner Party). But, of course, while they did have tools, the tools required some energy be exerted into them (which would prevent people from killing willy-nilly), and it would be very hard to kill even ten people at the same time with these tools. I imagined a caveman being attacked by another caveman, so the first caveman killed the second.

This is sort of like a pre-emptive strike on a much smaller scale. And then I got to thinking that war is sort of like cavemen. Like the Montagues and Capulets, Jets and Sharks, Maury Povich and Jerry Springer, only with bombs. Smart bombs to get one precise person from a distance, nuclear bombs for absolute destruction, chlorine bombs for blinding people, all kinds of bombs.

If we're going to develop the technology to wipe out entire cities, we need to change our attitudes. We can't kill people just because we feel threatened anymore. Cavemen killing one another, they acted on impulse. When something is flying fast at, say, your eye, it's a reflex to guard your eye. But entire nations with machine guns and bombs can't act on impulse.

Freud separated the thoughts into id, ego, and superego. Id is base instinct, one shared by pretty much all animals, from humans to ants to elephants. Superego is thoughts, intellect, etc. Ego is sort of the middle ground between the two. And you can't make decisions, decisions that can destroy the lives of millions of people, based on id. People are made leaders because it is assumed that they will make decisions based on something higher than animal instinct. We've got intelligence, let's use it.

On being poor

Sometimes when I go on the internet (particularly on blogs such as this one or message boards), I hear people complain about being poor. On the internet.

Maybe I'm different, but it would seem to me that if you have clean and running water, food not purchased from a 7/11 with food stamps, electricity, shelter, a computer, and enough money to maintain an internet connection on that computer, and enough free time to go on the computer and bitch rather than working, you ain't poor.

Am I poor? No, I'm not. And I acknowledge that. Because I have, guess what, internet.

See, this is how spoiled America is. Just because someone can't afford Juicy means they're "poor" now.

Look, I don't know you. Maybe it really sucks to be you. Maybe you are having some financial troubles (you don't have to be poor to have financial troubles. Meet MC Hammer), I don't know. But unless you've spent a few days in the projects or in a tent city, don't talk about how poor you are.

Dr. Richard Land

First: Goddammit, I just fixed my other Chick tract dissection and now it's void, and now the images for this one don't work anymore. So I've officially announced my plans to stop trying.

So, anyway, I just saw Dr. Richard Land on the Colbert Report on Friday. I was very impressed. I may not agree with the guy on all his political views, but i agree with him on one thing: You may have a different ideology or view than someone else, but that doesn't mean you should be an asshole about it.

I couldn't agree more.

Chain letters

Goddammit, anyone who actually believes that a fucking email could have any control over how their romantic life is or whether or not werewolves will leap out of the screen and kill them in their sleep is an unbelievable dumbass and needs to lay off the booze.

Think about it: just because some asshole types something doesn't mean it's going to happen. No, Jesus did not start that chain letter. I'm sorry to say. Fuck you idiots who believe this shit.

DICK CHENEY IS WATCHING YOU!

He sees you when you're sleeping; he knows when you're awake....

That's very creepy, I must say.

Lewis Black is AWESOME

Now, I watch standup all the fucking time. Comedy Central's good for standup. And I like it a lot. But I usually don't ever feel like going "AMEN! TESTIFY!" When I do, it is an extraordinary experience and puts the comedian (who is able to do it ONCE) in the Golden Hall of Fucking Fame. And when people get close to making me have that moment, they're still in the Golden Hall of Fucking Fame.

Now, with Lewis Black: Black on Broadway, I got bombarded with those TESTIFY moments, one after the other. And it was AWESOME. It's sort of like dancing really hard and being insanely tired but keeping on going because the music and the party and the dancing and the ecstasy you just took are all that fucking awesome.

He gave me about fifty of those moments in an hour and a half. He has transcended the Golden Hall of Fucking Fame. There is not an element out there to capture how thoroughly awesome he is. I want to cry, that's how awesome he is.

Some of you may be saying "Now, NRP, you're just saying that because it was Secret Stash and it's 12:30 and you hardly had any dinner. You're not making any sense." No, I have things to back up my claim.

They don't know shit [about health]. Because each person's health is different. Each person has their own unique health. What's good for you will kill the person next to you. Because each person is like a snowflake.

He's absolutely right. There are vegan bodybuilders. My friend went vegan (and did so responsibly) and her nails came off. Different strokes for different folks.

And there are all these goddamn health reports. "Dark chocolate is good for you".

No, it fucking is not. Because it's chocolate. You don't eat chocolate because you want to improve your health. You eat lean white meat and spinach salads when you want to improve your health.

And eggs. My GOD. Are they good for you? In January they were. In February they were not. In March they were. And now they're not.

He's right. And that's not the only thing he said that was awesome.

"They have destroyed water."

Fuck bottled water. There are people in third world countries who drink anything if it's less thick than fucking maple syrup, and meanwhile "ooh, I don't want water unless it's slightly carbonated and quintuple-filtered and sold in an environment-killing plastic bottles."

That's enough on Lewis Black. And, no, nobody is paying me. I just was inspired tonight.

Degenerates, Degradation, and Atrocity, oh my!

PURE EVIL!

So I was watching Maury Povich today because I was curious to see what the deal was with the show, and I also had nothing better to do.

I should have known. I really should have known after that South Park episode. But South Park always exaggerates things, so I thought that Maury would only be mildly offensive.

Little did I know that South Park actually toned it down.

The theme of this particular segment was "Is my man cheating on me because I'm handicapped?"

Yes, really. So they did lie detectors to see if they were lying or not, and, uh... they all lied. All the guys cheated on their one-legged sweeties.

Now, the way people in the audience were reacting, it was almost as if they were enjoying this. There were people crying and pleading and arguing on stage, and they were just sitting there as if real humans in real pain from their lives was created by God (read: Maury) for their entertainment.

Yes. Let's make people's private affairs a public matter, shall we?

And the people who watch this show and LIKE it are all like "Hahaha, lookit the stupid trailer trash they deserve their pain!"

Uh... so poor people's misery is somehow more entertaining? All right, then. You can explain that to Satan when he's boning you in the ass after you die.

Now, there is truth to the German proverb "Schadenfreude ist die schönste Freude (denn sie kommt von Herzen)" (Which means "Schadenfreude is the most superb kind of joy becase it comes from the heart"). I've laughed at Enron and straight-A students getting Bs and TVs on fire and Rush Limbaugh's hypocritical drug problem just as much as the next person.

But this is too much. Someone needs to take this motherfucker down. Someone needs to kill him.

I nominate myself. I'm off to Home Depot to buy some shovels and cement.

And maybe if it's a good killing, they'll put it on Maury on a segment titled "I killed someone who deserved it!"

Also, what the hell kind of name is "Maury Povich", anyway? A first grader could make up a better name. Mr. Asswiping Cocksucker Douche, your parents were high when they named you, so I think you have a lot of nerve exploiting people when you could just as easily have ended up on a show with a segment entitled "My parents were snorting coke when they named me!"

Talent.

The fucking Pussycat Dolls, man, So six slack-cunted skanks with no talent objectifying themselves wasn't enough, was it? Now we need another ho to...fill the void?

Um, I have a better idea. No.

Remember when you were a musician because you were musically-inclined? Yeah, that actually used to happen. And your songs were remembered because they had a good melody and words with some degree of depth to them? Remember Harry Chapin?

And actors used to be famous because they were able to act. Now more people have heard of Lindsay Lohan than Indina Menzel. And, you know, Indina can actually act. I know, right? And she can also sing. And what can Lindsay do? ...Why, she can destroy herself with drugs and alcohol.

And what is with everyone knowiong about Paris Hilton? She doesn't even ostensibly do anything. I mean, aside from producing that godawful Stars are Blind song that all the radio stations seemed to want to play for several torturous months.

Now she wants to be treated like a functioning member of society? She had her chance. She doesn't have talents that go beyond the ability to stick an entire watermelon up her vagina, and she should absolutely not pretend otherwise.

And for that matter:

Dear Ron Howard,
You played a dorky ginger in a bad show from the 70's. Last time I checked, this does not make you a director. So for the sake of our sanities, cease and desist.

Goddamn, pop culture sucks.

The Gospel of Supply Side Jesus

For your consideration:



That's a link, people.

Twilight and YA in General

I want to find the spooge-guzzling cunt that wrote this drivel and use a red-hot machete to slice her a new buttcrack.

If you want a brief synopsis of the plot, here it goes. But be warend, it will turn your stomach.

From the School Library Journal:

Headstrong, sun-loving, 17-year-old Bella declines her mom's invitation to move to Florida, and instead reluctantly opts to move to her dad's cabin in the dreary, rainy town of Forks, WA. She becomes intrigued with Edward Cullen, a distant, stylish, and disarmingly handsome senior, who is also a vampire. When he reveals that his specific clan hunts wildlife instead of humans, Bella deduces that she is safe from his blood-sucking instincts and therefore free to fall hopelessly in love with him. The feeling is mutual, and the resulting volatile romance smolders as they attempt to hide Edward's identity from her family and the rest of the school. Meyer adds an eerie new twist to the mismatched, star-crossed lovers theme: predator falls for prey, human falls for vampire. This tension strips away any pretense readers may have about the everyday teen romance novel, and kissing, touching, and talking take on an entirely new meaning when one small mistake could be life-threatening. Bella and Edward's struggle to make their relationship work becomes a struggle for survival, especially when vampires from an outside clan infiltrate the Cullen territory and head straight for her. As a result, the novel's danger-factor skyrockets as the excitement of secret love and hushed affection morphs into a terrifying race to stay alive. Realistic, subtle, succinct, and easy to follow, Twilight will have readers dying to sink their teeth into it.

Realism, subtleness, succintness? Is that the sound I hear coming from that book? Really? Because I could have sworn that was the sound of this plot being done a million times before by lonely-ass acne-scarred 12-year-old girls across the entire fucking Western hemisphere.

But for those 12-year-olds, it's fine for them to do that. They don't know any better, and they're using their stories to release the tensions of Bobby Jones not thinking that they're cute.

But, seriously. Look at this:


That is the face and atrocious haircut of a full-grown adult woman. With a suburban name like "Stephanie Meyer", she almost certainly went to college. She's also seen at least 30 years or so of life. And during those thirty years, she probably experienced some shit. Normal thirty-year-olds have experienced pain, passion, love, hatred, fear, etc. They know the ropes of life. Someone they know has probably died. They've probably witnessed betrayal and other shit like that.

So how on Earth does a thirty-year-old come up with this? How could a nineteen-year-old come up with this? Reading this shit, one might have thought that Meyer spent her entire life in one room, not knowing anyone, warching teen dramas on the WB.

I seriously think that you'd have to be lobotomized to write this shit. There's no possible way that any actual person over the age of fifteen would be able to do this without clawing their eyes out, with the possible exception of Paris Hilton.

So we have the main character, Isabella "This-is-Hella". HURHURI'MSOWITTY. Anyway, she's the very typical YA heroine: Better Than You (TM). She's prettier than you and supposedly smarter than you and more guys like her than you. Asd a matter of fact, her life is way more perfect than yours could ever aspire to be. And yet you're supposed to empathize with her anyway because she bitches all the time about the Token Flaw In Her Life. In this case, it's divorce and moving to a new town. OMGWTFNOBODY'SEVERWRITTENYAABOUTTHATLOLOLOLOLOLZ. And then, of course, the Totally Hot Enigmatic Mysterious Guy With A Secret (TM) falls for her. She finds out the secret, but she loves him anyway and they continue with their Forbiddon Lurve (TM).

Now, some of you may be saying that this all sounds like sour grapes, but I'm going to get to the point of this rant.

Twilight is not the only abortion of a marginally-tolerable book out there, but it's a very good example and I've been hearing far too much hype about it.

It didn't have to be like this. Just because the target audience is in middle school doesn't mean that the books have to have the intellectual level of a rotten banana.

There was one YA book that I liked. It was called Rx. It had a moral. It had personal growth. All the good stuff that makes a book worth reading. And yet it was still YA. See, the thing of it is, just because a book is meant for children doesn't mean that the characters aren't allowed to have personalities. And that there can't be internal conflict or a moral.

This is what happens. These ass pirates at publishing companies accept about 5,000 pieces of garbage for every YA book of reasonable quality. Then they hype crap like Twilight and Eragon so that at small bookstores those are the only things available.

And then when some 7th grader walks in to a Barnes and Noble, she will head to the YA section because she's meant to. She will see shelf after shelf stacked with nothing but crappy books. She wants a book so she will buy one. And then, after buying some crap like Gossip Girl, she'll be told by all the reviews and her friends and teen magazines and shit that this is the kind of thing that she should be reading. She will think that reading story after story about beautiful, interchangeable rich kids from Manhattan being degenerates is something she should be doing.

This shit is supposed to be "cool". This stuff is being pushed onto people until they grow older, at which point they read everything described as "catty" and given four stars by Us Magazine, the great connoisseurs of fine literature, and those seventh graders grow up to become this. They'll read the same YA with more sex in it, and they'll watch plastic surgery shows. And then the pretentious pricks ask what the hell happened to society to make women do that.

It's requiring all the self control I have not to go to the nearest bookstore and open fire on the YA section.

Oh, man, Switzerland....

And on the lighter side of the news....

They said that Lichtenstein was nice about it, but I'm sure that they were laughing their asses off.

And in other news, I somehow got the URL for news from the Caucasus.

There is, in fact, a God

Have you ever had one of those days where you have a giganting, bulging ball of stress or anger at the base of your neck? I know I have.

And what do I do when I have my throbbing stress ball?

I play a computer game.

But not just any computer game. Oh, no. I play a computer game where you torture things for the sake of torturing them.

Such as this one.

Oh, boy. There is absolutely nothing better than to kill things without killing anybody. And, if you wish, you can imagine all those little stick figures are your asshole teachers or parents or bosses or comrades or coworkers or what have you.

God/Allah/YHWH/Shiva/FSM was working through the fine people who designed these games. Screw the Bible, this kind of thing is truly divinely inspired. For no matter what Scripture you turn to, it will always say that God is Loving.

And what better act of love than to work through man to help relieve the stress of all mankind?

And if this wasn't divinely inspired, then these people are simply the greatest people ever, so they should be worshipped. Or, no, what's it called, how Catholics view Mary and the Saints? Venerated. They should be venerated.

So I guess the moral of the story is that even if there isn't a God, there are some pretty awesome people out there.