Murder was the case they (almost) gave me

Recently, I spent two days participating in a jury selection process for a murder one trial.



This is what I learned:



Peers shmeers.  The man on trial was black.  At the time that I was dismissed, there were no black people left to serve on the jury.  Maybe the jury will be fair.  Maybe not.  But if the object was to give the defendant a jury of his peers, the process failed.



All jurors are to be treated like children.  At one point, a juror asked to use the restroom.  What this means is that the entire jury panel (about 30 to 40 people at that point) was ushered into a neighboring courtroom where we proceeded to take turns using two restrooms (one for men, one for women).  The bailiff left us there for fifteen minutes, saying, "Don't leave the room until I come get you."  Problem solved LOL!



All jurors are to be treated like children who will leave their gum everywhere.  The bailiff reminded us to spit out our gum each time we entered the courtroom.  However, when I asked where a trash can was (because I had gum in my mouth), she said to put the gum in the back of my mouth.  Problem solved LOL!



Breaks shmeaks.  I wanted water (the only consumable allowed in the courtroom).  I tried my three one dollar bills in the Aquafina water dispensing machine but it wouldn't accept them.  On the change machine, there was a sign that said, "I lost one dollar bill in hear and no change came out" (misspelling not mine).  I asked to leave the juror containment room to buy water or get change.  They told me I could do so on break.  I asked when break is.  They said they didn't know.  I ended up not getting a break until lunch time.  Problem solved LOL!

Favorite Text of the Day

This, from Victoria, at 12:53am, today:

Haha n omg! OK- had2 share this

w/som-o-U! :Hey Vic? king heart 

shape bed-fur model -massage 

systm-red. Call Ron Jeremy 

310-748-81etc ONLY n LA man!

Smile, I Want You

Smiles are sexy.



Mainstream media present "sexy" as a very streamlined set of details that are then deeply tied to "status" (status = sex).



But once you break free of the media's influence on you, you are free to realize that the hottest, most sexy thing of all is a true connection with a lover.  And when you have a true connection with that lover and they smile at you...well, it is a mountain of hotness.  This has the effect of feeling good.

Seriously, why is anyone still driving?

With $4 gallons about to spring up everywhere, how can anyone afford it?













(Ally has written a guest Dogboy story here. If YOU have a Dogboy story you'd like to share, send it to: writer@aarondietz.us)

Little Miss Sunshine: Dare I Trash Such A Film?

First, thanks to all who checked in with their own opinion on the film.  Remember: all opinions are valid until they are paid for.  Now, please enjoy this paraphrased (edited) list of reviews.  My short review is at the very bottom.







Positive reviews:



Aaron (not me, a different Aaron): I liked it because it wasn't the major huge happy triumphant ending.



Ally: I liked it because the desperation was real.



Claudine: The characters were great and it required no thinking.



Dabi: In a film world filled with stupid pandering towards the lowest common denominator, Little Miss Sunshine caters to viewers who want a lot of intelligence in their humour, with a healthy dose of profanity mixed up.



Fantastic H: The characters are people that you wish you knew in real life and when the movie ends it is sad because you know you will miss them.



Jeremicah: Irresistible character building.



MickeyBlowTorch: Alan Arkin's character was priceless. I don't know too many elderly people kicked out of nursing homes for snorting heroin.



mr whatever: I like pretty much every movie that doesn't completely suck. The Matrix sequels sucked, but they didn't totally and completely suck, there were robots and kung fu and flying people in those after all. and I've

watched those more than once. Little Miss Sunshine didn't suck near to that level (acting, dialogue, story, all superior to the MAX), but then again I haven't watched it that many times. I attribute that to the fact that there weren't any robots or kung fu or flying people in Little Miss Sunshine..... Here just use this: I LIKE MOVIES! YAAAAAAAY!



Peregrine Flounder: Those characters...all have a life that seems to extend beyond the...screen, a rarity in movies these days. Everything about it was just so . . . cute.... Smart too. The performance at the pageant had me laughing and crying at the same time.



Pie Is The New Toast: I can't quite put my finger on it, but the humor was great in it.... I could relate to Olive and her father....



Rachael: I loved it. Because great character driven ensemble movies reign. Because Abigail Breslin is adorable. Because you love each character in spite of their glaring faults. Because of the ice cream scene. Because the focus of Steve Carell's eyes says more than his words. Haha, because the sound of the bus horn going non stop sounds just like my sister cat Bezor.



Redd: The characters were interesting and well-developed. All the actors nailed their performances with a great mix of humanity and humor.



Slacksploitation: Alan Arkin, Steve Carell were fucking hilarious as adult freaks.... I also really liked DeVotchka's soundtrack.... Thematically, I like the idea of authentic people sticking it to the "pretty" or "normal" people.... The people were weird, the soundtrack was quirky and expansive, proust is used -- it's a good film.



~..: LOVE LOVE LOVED IT!!!!!







Not as positive reviews:



Desi: I enjoyed watching it, but I wouldn't consider it a favorite movie. I really identified with the teenage son though.



Kerri Lynn: *in the voice of Randy jackson* It was just okay for me, dog.... Seriously, I think I would say it was a 'cute' movie. But wasn't as good as I'd hoped it would be. So I did not love it or hate it.



Sophia: It seemed like it was trying to be off-kilter and indy.... I like to feel there is a point to a film.... Mostly, I felt it was trying too hard.







Somewhat ambiguous reviews:



AC for life!: I suppose I enjoyed the drug addict grandfather.



Adam: Aaaaaaaron, YOU are Little Miss Sunshine. And that is all.



Lauren: Liked it in the movie theater, as the audience really got into it. Watched it again on DVD and couldn't figure out why I liked it the first time.







And now, finally, my review:



Aaaaaaron: In short, it was a triumph of style over substance. And I prefer substance.

I will now trash The Secret without ever having seen the movie

The Secret: stupid feel good bullshit designed to make people delusionally happy (at least, delusionally happy enough to spend their money).



I can tell you why it's stupid, because I have the book that the movie is based on. I checked it out from the library. And to further point out how stupid it is, I don't even have to read a word of the book to trash it. All I need is the copy on the cover.



The book claims that a secret "has been passed down through the ages" and that now this book will reveal it to you (for $23.95, if you're not friendly with libraries). Read on: "As you learn The Secret, you will come to know how you can have, be, or do anything you want."



The book supports this claim by stating that this "secret" was known by "some of the most prominent people in history". It lists them: Plato, Galileo, Beethoven, Edison, Carnegie, and Einstein.



This is how we know this book is already contradicting itself. If these men (apparently the secret has only been known to men) could have anything they wanted, why did Einstein struggle for most of his adult life to come up with a Unified Theory of Everything (he failed)? Why was Carnegie's reputation permanently damaged by the Homestead Incident?  Why did Edison have to try thousands of different filaments before he got his light bulb working? Why was Beethoven deaf? Why was Galileo persecuted for his heliocentric model of the universe? Why was Plato unable to stop the unjust trial that resulted in Socrates's death?



In reality, these men suffered, just like the rest of us (okay, maybe Carnegie didn't suffer that much, but the others did). I'm all for positive thinking--it helps people. It has helped me, even. But when positive thinking works, it has more to do with accepting what you have than trying to "have, be, or do anything you want."



Besides, this book has people like Neale Donald Walsh contributing to it, a man who claims to have conversations with a god that called George Bush I a "visionary."







"Life is pain.... Anyone who says differently is selling something."



         -From William Goldman's The Princess Bride

A Transcript From The Office Of CIA Agent Jones

CIA AGENT JONES: I want tamari almonds to disappear.



ASSISTANT: From the Capitol Hill area? Or all of Seattle?



CIA AGENT JONES: I don't want Aaron Dietz to be able to find tamari almonds anywhere in Seattle proper. He loves those things.



ASSISTANT: Got it.



CIA AGENT JONES: And get rid of baba ganoush, too. It's okay for restaurants to have it; just get rid of all those easy-to-make baba ganoush mixes they sell at the grocery stores.



ASSISTANT: But sir--our records indicate that Aaron Dietz only uses those once every six months or so.



CIA AGENT JONES: That's especially why it will perplex him. Besides, I checked his Google Calendar and he has a "Falafel Night" with the significant other coming up. I know he'll want to make baba ganoush.



ASSISTANT: It shall be done.

Starbullshits

I'd really like to leave Starbucks alone, but they keep pulling some pretty ridiculous bull honkey.



To be fair, they have made improvements--since I started picking on them about 18 months ago, they've doubled the percentage of Fair Trade coffee that they buy (from 3 to 6 per cent of their total supply).  So, they are improving.  They can show people statistics that support this fact.  Yet, they continue to rely on smokescreens and flashy phrases, rather than simply saying, "We're not as socially responsible as we want to be in the future."  When corporations use P.R. smoke and mirrors, I get suspicious and downright hateful.



The smoke and mirrors:



I've been told that "Starbucks offers Fair Trade coffee everyday."  While this is technically true, it is not true within the context of my question ("When is Fair Trade coffee brewed in my local store?").  I wasn't asking about the pounds of Fair Trade coffee beans you can buy (which are indeed offered every day).  I wanted to buy Fair Trade coffee brewed on a day when it is their special "Coffee of the Day".  Several friends in this effort have reported getting the same feedback when asking about Fair Trade coffee.



When I emailed them to find out when Fair Trade coffee would be the "Coffee of the Day", they wrote back (without quoting my email--they don't like to encourage an open dialogue): "Starbucks is committed to brewing Fair Trade Certified coffee as part of our 'Coffee of the Day' program."  Problem solved LOL!



A friend of mine asked about Fair Trade coffee and was told by a Starbucks store manager, "All our coffee is fairly traded."  Apparently, the manager doesn't expect consumers to know the difference between a standard (Fair Trade coffee) and a statement of opinion ("our coffee is fairly traded").



Starbucks, why must you insult the intelligence of your consumers?







Note: in case you're wondering what I did with that Starbucks gift card of mine....  It was too difficult to figure out when I would be able to purchase Fair Trade brewed coffee, so I spent the $50 gift card on a coffeemaker.  If anyone has some fun stickers I could use to put over the Starbucks logo, I'd love it if you sent them my way.

A Quick Update...

Thanks to el capitan for offering some mega mega awesome assistance that I fortunately didn't need in transferring some files off of my dead laptop.  He convinced me to do it myself, ultimately saving me hundreds of dollars.  Thanks!



In other news, there is a new Dogboy story up here, guest written by King Rusty.



And in still other news, I've been invited to write for subREVOLT, a pretty impressive site for people that are cool.  My first piece for them is up right here.  Make sure you check out their Worst Comic Ever series.  Problem solved LOL!

It's time to close the McDonald's snackhole

Open your snackhole, yum! I LOVE butt sex references in my fast food advertising, yes! I'm lovin' it!





(Image courtesy of uneasysilence.com)





Here's an email I sent to McDonald's regarding the billboard:



I live near downtown Seattle and find your billboard ad (the one that says, "Open your snackhole") a bit offensive. Surely your vast advertising budget can produce results that are not so blatantly sexual. I've spoken to numerous offended Seattle-ites, and a quick Google search found still more people that feel the same way (for example: http://www.capgunvisual.com/blog/?p=106). In my opinion, this billboard should never have been put up. I think it's time to take it down.



Thank you for your time,



Aaron Dietz



To their credit, Tina, from the McDonald's Customer Response Center did write a fairly decent email back (though of course, they have not done anything about the actual billboard).



Thank you for taking the time to contact McDonald's about our advertising.



We're sorry you were disappointed with this advertising. We take pride in producing messages that will be enjoyed. We certainly never intended for it to offend anyone. Your comments have been shared with our advertising staff and independent advertising agency who work together to develop our advertising. Please know your feedback is helpful and will be considered in the future planning of our advertising.



Again, thank you for taking the time to share your feedback with us. Your trust and confidence in our company's tradition of producing high quality advertising are important to us.





Want to bug McDonald's? Email them about advertising issues using this form (sorry, you must have cookies enabled).

This is different...

Some of you have noticed already, but in case you haven't: yes, it's true. I'm seeing someone.













However, it didn't happen in time to save these.







Let us all share a moment of silence.

Roadnotes: Portland 2 (Pictures Ahoy!)

Okay, I have a laptop now and I wanted to finish up the Portland roadnotes, so...here's what really happened in Portland, in photo-comic format.

powered by performancing firefox

I am the master of random phrases and statements

I am a tangle of knives in your toilet.



Why isn't the bus moving?



Murderball is to puppets as meatloaf is to art lovers.



"The White Haus" does not need to be explained.



Together, we can cut NASA's budget by 50 per cent by refusing to bring the astronauts home.



If you win people over with your smile, you risk losing them when you frown.



John Festaue was a briggand for love.

A Brief History of Ice Cream

Once upon a time, ice cream sucked. Yet, no one noticed because even sucky ice cream is still pretty good.



Then, Ben and Jerry changed the world. They put MEGA huge amounts of chunks in their ice cream. They also swirled their ice cream incredibly well. People suddenly could get a little of everything in every bite! Genius! The ice cream was more expensive, but it was worth it!



Then Ben and Jerry sold their ice cream company and little by little, ice cream began to suck again. For some reason, there were fewer chunks in Ben Jerry's ice cream, and the chunks didn't taste as fresh, either. The new owners even invented "Core" ice cream that was no longer swirled, but instead, required you to dip your utensil into each flavor of ice cream in order to get a taste of everything, much like the sucky old days. So, ice cream went back to sucking and still, no one noticed, because even when it sucks, ice cream is still pretty good.









Pssst...hey, kids! Re-read this blog replacing the words "ice cream" with the word "sex"!

I finally saw that film: Crap of Men

Mired in predictability and held back by male-centrism, any statement Children of Men was trying to make was not worth seeing the movie for. Did anyone expect that Michael Caine's character was NOT going to die (hence: why did they even show it?)? And it's too bad the film focuses on the white man's story of how he "helped" the woman and baby get to the boat (sure, he pushed a car during their getaway, but that's about it). The woman (played admirably by Claire Hope Ashitay) went through a lot more than he did, was way more important to humanity, and was more interesting as well, so why was the story told completely from the white guy's perspective?



One thing the film did do well was subject you to an apocalyptic world of refugee life not unlike circumstances that exist all over the world today. These scenes were enhanced by clever film-making and are commendable.



In other news (but related allegorically), I had a dream last night that a three year old was pregnant and had the baby, the first baby the Earth had seen after 18 years of complete infertility. When the baby came out, it was a little baby pig and went to join the other animals on the farm. What does it mean? What does it mean?

A Six Word Short Story and Me On Blogtalkradio!

The story:





A Leap Into The Grand Canyon





No time to talk.



Good bye.









And to catch me and several others reading some material on Deborah Leeson's Blogtalkradio show, go here: Between The Covers.



When? 6pm PST.

Lasagna Night: Damage Report

Damage report:



2 PBR's.

9 bottles of wine.

1 Half bottle of Woodford Reserve.

2 glasses of milk.





Supplies confiscated:



One box of wine glasses.

Crackers and cheese.

Garlic bread.

One loaf of nut bread.

Two black women's jackets.

One book (Letters From The Earth, by Mark Twain).

One box of cowboy band-aids.

One deck of cards.

One NES controller, customized with moo-cow applique.

One cell phone.

One iPod.

Me vs. Turner Construction

Or, Obscure Social Interest Victory Is Mine!



I win, Turner Construction. You closed a one block section of sidewalk for around 13 weeks, forcing me to cross Denny Way back and forth each time I walked to or from school. Denny Way is a busy street, so often this added five minutes onto my trip. After 13 weeks, that added up to hours of lost productivity. And that's why I sent the City of Seattle after you.



Round about week 12, I contacted the Citizens Service Bureau, at cityofseattle.net. They passed my message on to the appropriate city agency (the Street Use department of the DOT). A Planning and Development Specialist quickly contacted me to verify the location of the street closure. Then, a Street Use Inspector was sent to investigate. Soon after, Turner Construction paved that city block properly and took down the fences.



I win! And I am most impressed with the City of Seattle. I didn't even have to use the phone (all of this was accomplished over email).



Boo-yah.

Drunken Poem For Cassandra

Written and emailed while trashed, November 9, 2006.







Oh Cassandra.



Yes, I mean you.



Pretty,

pretty

Cassandra.



If I weren't autistic and a total screwup, I'd move to your neck of the woods and we would become the next fighting pop singing duo of Bulgaria.



I know that seems like a lot to just sort of assume and all...



...but relax, I'm not really serious (that I know of).



Also, I just know you will like my idea for our shows:



1. We will start out with pop songs.

me on guitar

you playing all the rest of the instruments

and singing both parts

because I never learned how to sing

(not that that stopped me before).



2. Then we will drop our instruments

rip off our skimpy outfits

only to reveal, somehow,

costumes that resemble what the Power Rangers wear,

then helmets will appear as if by magic

(again, you will have to take care of that one)

and we will fight each other in a death match

except that no one will die,

because at the core of our friendship

is everlasting life

or strawberries.



3. If it is strawberries, we will hand them out after the show, but since you don't eat strawberries I hope it is everlasting life.



(And yes, you can be the pink pterodactyl one.)











(Psst...a new Dogboy adventure is up on PointlessBanter.net...)

Bush says, "Give war a chance!"

...which I would think was pretty funny if he had meant it as a joke.

Kidnapped by Shawna Mouser!

No, this is not a story called "Kidnapped" that was written by Shawna Mouser. Shawna Mouser was the one that done kidnapped me!



Not only that, but after kidnapping me, Shawna Mouser turned me into some kind of cool being capable of hanging out with cool shmucks at a poker table! That's me, below:







I'm the fifth from the top white poker chip on the far right--you can just barely make me out. />

Speaking of making out--no, Shawna Mouser did not make out with me. Instead, Shawna Mouser chopped off my head and legs and made me have naked sex with some woman without a foot!



Here, I'll have Ralph, the illustrated boy from the LifeSavers dimension show you what I mean.







It only cost me five cents for me to have Ralph here with us today, unlike Shawna Mouser. Shawna Mouser's agent said that Shawna Mouser would cost me an arm and a leg and since I didn't have any legs left...well, you know the rest of the story.











All art by Shawna Mouser. I wish to thank Shawna Mouser for the use of her art in this blog. I also would like to thank Shawna Mouser's agent, Shawna Mouser.

My Dating Prospects, In Statistical Terms

These are the statistical odds of me finding someone I can date, as nearly as I can figure them out and without me being TOO picky:



1. First, I will limit the dating prospects to those who live on this continent. I'm no good at long distance relationships and can't afford to move overseas. According to WorldAtlas.com, that gives me a starting population of 501,500,000.



2. Next, I need to eliminate anyone under 18. I know that in some states it's technically legal for me to have sex with people younger than that, but you never know when I might want to get out the camera and THAT'S when the law gets tough. So just to be safe, no one less than 18 need apply. Various sources put the percentage of people between 14 and 22 per cent, so I am going to go with the least limiting number, which drops the number of dating prospects down to 430,818,792.



3. Naturally, I don't want to date anyone who is not into men, so after eliminating lesbians and straight men (again, using the least reasonably-limiting numbers), I am left with 219,372,928.



4. I don't want to date a regular smoker, simply because I like to cuddle with my lover while watching a movie without having to pause it while they take a smoke break. I don't mind if they have one or two on occasion, while we are drinking or whatever; I just don't like the whole dependence aspect because it's a constant interruption in an otherwise pleasant dating experience. This drops my list of dating prospects by about 20 per cent, down to 175,498,342.



5. Now it's time to get to the good stuff. My dating prospect must absolutely not watch television. Or more accurately, they must avoid commercials at all costs because COMMERCIALS ARE POISON! If they TIVO all their TV, or if they get the DVDs from the library (like I do sometimes), that's okay. And whatever they do, they must not, ever, EVER, plan their life around a TV show. If I want to do something with them, I don't want to hear, "But Such-And-Such is on at 7pm and I can't miss it!" This is a tricky thing to put a number on, but since I found that 2 per cent of households in the U.S. do not own a TV, I'm going to triple that percentage (I think that's more than fair). This drastically reduces my list of dating prospects to 10,529,901.



6. On to stupid magazines. Dating prospects should not read stupid magazines! Or really, any magazine with more than 2 per cent of its pages filled with ads. ADS ARE EVIL and anyone I hang out with regularly should not be willingly subjecting themselves to so much evil. This is another thing that's tough to put a number on, but I think it's more than fair for me to take the top 3 stupid magazines I happen to find subscriber totals for and add those figures together as the total number of stupid magazine readers out there (this is going to be a very conservative number; in reality the total is probably much higher). I come up with somewhere around 11 million North American readers, which, when averaged over the total population knocks my number down by 2 per cent, to 10,319,303.



7. And now, for soft drinks! OH NO, IT'S MORE POISON! Dating prospects should not drink soft drinks regularly. Since I found studies reporting soft drink consumption at as high as 80 per cent (those reporting having one in the last week), I think it's fair to use a number like, say, 55 per cent. I'll even knock it down to 50 per cent because I don't have a problem with the natural sodas like Hansen's. That cuts my list in half, to 5,159,652.



8. You may have predicted I was going to mention their taste in music. No bad music! Okay, sure, they can have plenty of guilty pleasures (I have an album by the Booty Boys, after all), but in general, when I go over to their home, I don't want to be subjected to hour after hour of music that I don't like. This is again a tough thing to put a number on, but I'm going to say that from personal experience, I tend to think that only about 2 per cent of the people I meet have good taste in music, so I think I'm being more than fair (even if this is not the most scientific way to calculate this) by comparing sales of Britney Spears' 2003 album, In The Zone, to Four Tet's 2003 album, Rounds, and using this data to calculate the percentage of people who like bad music. In The Zone sold about 3 million copies, and since I can't find data on Rounds I'm going to assume it sold 400,000 copies, even though there is no way on Earth it could have sold that many (I'm trying to keep this as positive as possible). This cuts my list, then, by almost 89 per cent, down to 607,018.



9. Naturally, my dating prospects must absolutely have a good sense of humor. What I mean by that is that the dating prospect should enjoy MY sense of humor, which involves Monty Python and the Holy Grail and the Autobiography of Bigfoot, and they should also know when I'm joking at least half of the time. Quirkiness is appreciated. I couldn't find any reliable data on this, so I'm going to go with my own observations about people, then bump up the number by about 20 per cent (because, as I said, I'm trying to get the most positive possible number, right?). This knocks another 50 per cent off the list, bringing it down to 303,509.



10. They must be intelligent. Intelligence is tough to measure, so even though I don't consider I.Q. tests a good indicator of intelligence, I'm going to use the I.Q. simply for lack of a better way to do this. I have a 140 to 145 I.Q. I'd like to date someone that is at least my equal in intelligence. Therefore, I don't feel like I'm using an unfair number when I make use of the percentage of people at 120 and above. While the dating prospect's actual I.Q. doesn't matter (because true intelligence is not measured by these silly tests), I'm using these numbers as a general indicator of the percentage of people who will be intelligent enough for me to date. So, at 120 and above, a person is at around the 93rd percentile, which means my list of prospects gets cut down to 21,246. Wow. Only 21,246 people in North America that I'm compatible with so far (and I am erring on the side of positivity!).



11. I love to debate, so if I am going to have any sort of relationship with someone, that person should like to debate as well. When I typed "I like to argue" into ask.com, I got 6,720 hits and I got 5,900 hits with "I don't like to argue". Using these numbers as data, I am knocking 47 per cent off my list. This brings me down to 11,313 people.



12. Oh yeah, what was I thinking? My dating prospects need to love reading. Let's just assume that all people that are literate love to read, just to be generous. That lowers my list by 3 per cent to 10,974.



13. Did I forget something? Have any suggestions? 10,974 people seems like a lot. In fact, if they are evenly distributed throughout North America, that means there are 135.7 of them in Washington state! That gives me a HUGE chance of finding my perfect mate!

I Learn To Love Myself, One Little Part At A Time

So I'm having a wank the other day and I'm looking at the little guy and suddenly, out of the blue, I think, "What a cute little penis thing!" and I kind of actually liked the little guy all of a sudden, which is a big deal because I don't have a loving relationship with my body--I mean, in addition to my penis being small, I am also neurotically skinny, and I know I'm supposed to love my body and all but I don't, so loving my penis all of a sudden is a very positive step in my life, you know?

I'm trying to watch my language these days

I've been reading a lot of feminist material lately and some of it points out how sexism is inherent in the language we use. I've particularly become aware of the swear words I use, like bitch, cunt, and motherfucker, for example. Why must my swearing call a person's gender into question? It doesn't have to, and most of the time, it shouldn't.



So, I'm trying to replace my swearing vocabulary with gender-free terms. Instead of "motherfucker" I'm trying to use "fuckhead," for example. This is tough because fuckhead has an entirely different feel to it. It practically requires me to restructure entire sentences in which swearing will be employed.



Still, I do it anyway. I say "fuckhead" because I care.

Grunting is the new hello

As I was leaving my apartment building the other day, someone was coming in the door.



"Hello," I said. (I'm friendly that way.)



In response, she grunted at me.



These young kids and their new forms of communication! It's hard to keep up sometimes.

Grunting is the new hello

As I was leaving my apartment building the other day, someone was coming in the door.



"Hello," I said. (I'm friendly that way.)



In response, she grunted at me.



These young kids and their new forms of communication! It's hard to keep up sometimes.

Three Ways to Simplify Your Life

1. When you scrub your hair in the shower, make sure to use your fingernails. If you scrub with tenacity, your hair will slide between fingernail and finger, where dirt hides, and: Wallah! Now your fingernails are clean!



2. Get rid of your socks. Buy 21 pairs of the same sock and forget about matching them when you do laundry. In fact, forget about folding them, too; just put them all in a pile in the same drawer. You save time!



3. Clip your finger and toenails after showering. If you've just taken a nice hot shower, your nails will be soft. This means that when you clip them, they will be less likely to fly all over the room and make a disgusting mess. Yay!







Incidentally, a new Dogboy adventure is up: Dogboy Fills Out An Application!

A Truth You Cannot Refute

I swear we would all be young again if we were young again.

Ooh, lookie, I did a thingie!

Only, it was a lot of work, so you have to go somewhere else to see it (it's okay - it will not hurt you, I think).

Head on over there to check it out now!

It's a choose your own adventure hypertext fiction piece I wrote in the fourth grade with a friend. You'll like it. Probably.

U.S. Citizens Vote

I'm sure you're aware of an election coming up.  That's right, there are still elections, even when we're not voting for the president.  I wanted to share some interesting numbers from 2000 and 2004.

The exit poll statistics, from CNN, for the year 2000, for the presidential election:

Republicans voting Democrat: 8 per cent
Democrats voting Republican: 11 per cent

So that's how things were in the year 2000.

Now let's look at 2004, still from CNN:

Republicans voting Democrat: 6 per cent

This I find hard to believe.  The number of Republicans voting Democrat went DOWN?  Never before this election had I ever heard a Republican say he or she would vote Democrat - but during this election I heard it from more Republicans than I can count.  They were fed up.  They were Republicans, sure, but they were sick of Bush.

Democrats voting Republican: 11 per cent

Bogus!  Democrats voted for Bush at the same rate as 2004?  No way.  I don't buy it.  Bogus.

So...what happened?  Are the exit polls simply bogus?  Are Democrats that stupid?  Do Republicans feel pressured into claiming that they are anti-Bush when in fact they are not?  (And if so, if there is that much of a consensus that Bush is evil, why is he still in office?)

I robbed a bank once!

Only, I did it in a gorilla suit, so when the coppers caught me on I-5 trying to leave town, I told them it was just a joke, which worked pretty well because really: who would rob a bank in a gorilla suit?

The cops took me back to the bank to return the money and we (the cops, the bankers, and I) all had a good laugh.  The bankers kept making me say, "Hand over the money!" in my gorilla voice.  Pretty hilarious!

Esther, the bank clerk who handed it over, made me pose for a picture with my gorilla arm around her.

I am an artiste!

Not really, but if I spell it with an "e" on the end, it definitely adds something and means even less.

So...the literary journal I work for through Antioch University Seattle is having a release party this Sunday.  Everyone is going to be there, including Reverend Redd*.  In fact, if you've wondered where Redd's been lately, he's been camping out at the venue, just to make sure he gets in (and when I say "camping out" I mean "he needs a shower").

Things that are special about this issue of KNOCK (that's the name of the literary journal) are:

1. I designed the cover (see below) and did the layout.
2. A couple excellent writers you may know from the Internet are in the issue: Vincent(!) Truman submitted a hilarious play that we accepted and Alex Vermitsky (also known as Alex) submitted three excellent pieces that made it in (you can take a peek inside the issue here).

If you're in the Seattle area this Sunday night, stop by (details here).  If you want a copy of the issue, there is information here.  If you subscribe to KNOCK, we'll give $5 of your money to the Women's Education Project.



*Reverend Redd won't actually be there. In fact, Redd is a figment of your imagination, along with Bluee and Yelloww.  Traffic lights are the great mystery.

An Interview with Todd!

I interviewed Todd and he didn't even turn me into a zombie (or give me a t-shirt)!

Aaaaaaron: Todd, first of all I'd like to say that you are one of the few writers out there that will do something quite different with each blog. That's one of the things I both admire and fear about your writing.

I don't want to start off the interview with a boring question or anything, so let's just start with this: if you were on a symbolic quest for the holy grail, what would the holy grail be, to you?

Todd: Well, mythologists like Carl Jung and Joseph Campbell theorized that the idea of "grail" in hero myths symbolized full consciousness or individuation. This would be attained once the protagonist rose from the depths of the underworld (representing the unconscious) and returned home truly self-aware for the first time in his life.

I, however, am more interested in the Holy Mail. The Holy Mail, according to a legend I am right now making up, was the last letter delivered to Christ before being nailed to the cross. Rumored to bear upon its envelope the message "YOU MAY HAVE ALREADY WON $10,000,000," this piece of mail is said to grant its possessor the ability to get others to listen to him intently for a brief period of time but then get frustrated and punch him in the face.

As this is all purely fictional, I can't really say what Jung or Campbell would've thought about it, but I will tell you this: they're both dead and I'm not so ha, fucking, ha, fucking, ha.

A: There seem to be almost dozens of dead people nowadays. If you could resurrect one as your zombie slave, who would you resurrect and why?

T: Well, this is a tough question as I'm not fully sure I believe in the existence of slaves. Were they not merely figments of our collective imagination, though, I'd have to say, "You, Aaaaaaaron."

I understand that in order to do this, I'd first have to kill you, but besides that, I don't think it'd be that big of a transition for you, as you could merely replace the zombie expression, "Braaaaaaaaaains," with your already elongated first name.

A: I'm afraid to ask this, but...as your zombie slave, what would you have me do?

T: It'd probably be a rotation of sit-ups, pull-ups, and then intensive cardio training. A big mistake people make is thinking that their zombies dont need to work out. This can lead to all kinds of problems including maggot take-over, corpse-rash and, in a worst case scenario, double-death. If there's one thing I'd like the reader to take away from this interview it's this: please, please exercise your zombies.

A: I appreciate you being thoughtful of my future needs as a zombie slave. Speaking of the future, I have a friend that can take a message to your Future Self. Anything you'd like to say?

T: I guess that depends how far in the future this self is. If, for example, he is living an hour from now, Id probably say something like, Turn off the TV and read a fucking book. Were he further in the future, like say, thirty or forty years, my message would be more along the lines of, I better not find you on that couch when I get home.

A: Ah. A message from your future self is coming back to you right now on my short wave radio. Your future self says, "Hey Aaaaaaron, you might want to get rid of the stolen radio. It's called 'evidence.' Tell young Todd to be less cool and that I'm not using reverse psychology (which is of course just a ploy - I'm using reverse psychology - yet this might also be a ploy. Or not.)." Todd, what does the word, "ploy" mean, anyway? I've never looked it up.

T: OK. Here’s a little secret. I’m not very good with words. This may seem strange, since I’m a writer, but it kind of goes along with many other things about my life. For example, I like having sex, but don’t really know how the parts are supposed to hook up. I consider myself a wife-beater, but I’m not married and don’t own one of those shirts. And I sometimes play basketball with other men just because I can lick the sweat from their glistening bodies. I guess you could say I’m the kind of guy that starts answering a question and then forgets what he was saying and just kind of rambles on and on and on and on (and so on). 

 

A: All right, speaking of sweat: I don't want to stress you out, but I simply must know: Pop quiz, hotshot. There's a bomb on a bus. If it drops below 50 miles an hour, it blows up. What do you do? What do you do?

 

T: Now, that’s a good question, and again my answer depends on how many kitties are on the bus. Were there eight or more, I’d probably throw three or four of them toward the front of the vehicle, then instruct them to crawl under the plastic panel and gnaw through the bomb’s wires. If, however, there were less than four available cats, I’d likely just chuck them at other passangers as a distraction then jump out a window.

 

A: If only the producers of Speed had employed you to look over their screenplay.  I never thought it was believable that there weren't any kittens on that bus.

 

Well, Todd, it's been a pleasure, but I have to get to an ultimate fighting matchup (my 4 year old niece's - it's her first fight so I want to be there).  My last question is this: have you any wisdom you would like to impart to your readers and the other people who got through this interview?

T: One quick thing anyone can do to significantly improve the quality of their life is to visit www.toddmayhew.com where they can access my blog, merchandise, and the new 99 cent download of the month section in which I post a new story, song or audio sketch every month. They're better than anything God could do - whether you believe in him or not. Other than that, the only advice I can give is to get yourself a Saint Bernard. They're excellent lapdogs, and can fit easily into any overhead storage compartment.

I would like everyone to see my penis on TV

...because, well, I've heard that TV adds ten pounds.

A Synopsis of David Lynch's Caligula II

David Lynch holds nothing back in this tour de force of oddities.  Naturally, the movie does not explain how Caligula (played by Bill Pullman) is alive in the first place, not to mention that he is now the new Queen of Peru during the early 1500s.  Things get more confusing when he boards Air Force One and forces the president to suck oysters out of the Secretary of State's bottom (the Secretary of State being, of course, a horse named Lucky).

However, solid performances by Haley Joel Osment (as Caligula's mother) and Luis Guzman (as the ambassador to Dimension X) provide enough entertainment to keep the viewer interested.

Caligula II is plum full of exotic scenes and wild visuals, but perhaps the most captivating sequence is a twenty minute scene featuring nothing but Caligula sitting in front of a mirror saying "Annagottadavita?" over and over.  Later, he gives a televised ballet-speech that finally incites his people to revolt against him.

In the end, Caligula dies.  Again.

Roadnotes: Denver 2

Note: the following entry is based on events that happened September 29 and 30.

My Sonicare electric toothbrush has died.  I mean, it's run out of charge.  The whole situation would not have occurred were it not for the fact that the bathroom light switch in my Seattle studio apartment also turns off the outlet in which my toothbrush is plugged into to charge.  So after being in L.A., I should have remembered to leave the light on for a few hours and I didn't.  Now I'm brushing my teeth manually (or as my friend Penelope would say: "the real man's way").

Friday I track down Scotty, who is alive, contrary to my recent thoughts on the matter.  We had lost touch over the past six months.  Sera takes the day off to hang out with me and we both wish there was a wading pool nearby (the day is warm and sunny and it is a pain to have to do something -- wading pools solve these problems).

Friday night I wander around Denver for a short time, alone, enjoying the crisp, dry air and remembering both why I miss the place and why I left.

Saturday I hang out with Trapper for most of the day.  Then we catch a couple bands at Wax Trax before moving on to my reading.  The reading goes well.  A math poem that I feared would be inaccessible read aloud ended up being the most successful piece read.  Of course, that could just mean that everything else I read was crap, but oh well.  In any case, I end up selling all of the copies of my book that I brought and that spells success, right?  Or something.  At least my bag is lighter going back to Seattle.



For those that missed the interview the other day, you can listen to it here.  You may want to skip ahead five minutes, past all the technical difficulties.  If anyone wants to edit out that stuff for me and make me a better copy, I will be most grateful.

Roadnotes: Denver 1

Note: the following entry is based on events that happened September 27 and 28.

A few days ago, checking my bag on the way to Seattle, flying Alaska, cost me an hour waiting.  In Denver, flying Frontier: two minutes.  Though, admittedly, in Denver, you walk a good 20 minutes before you get to the carousel (still, that's pretty good, I think).

Smiter picks me up in Denver and I wind up playing video games with his son (ultra-fun: they had LEGO Star Wars, you see).  Later, I discover my drink limit in high altitude has dropped to one.  Fortunately, I discover this without making a mess.

Sera graciously hosts me so that I can stay in my old neighborhood.  The next day I breakfast at Watercourse, one of the finest vegetarian restaurants in the world.  I spend the day visiting friends and haunts and in the evening I see Quinn in a play.  He plays a thug, which is not a stretch at all.

Afterward, he schools me in sword fighting (using foam swords he has from being a children's quest camp counselor), then he demonstrates his jackoff trick, which he does by pretending to masturbate under the table of a diner, even going so far as to use a creamer cup for the explosion.  I had my camera out, but I missed the money shot.

The Tropic of Random and Blah Blah

I learned how to make cashmere by sleeping with goats. Many a night, I lay by my goat lover, in the cellar of a small cottage hidden away in the Russian tundra, only to hear tell of the secrets of cashmere production through the whispy whispers of my sleepy, over-sexed companion.

Other nights, we burned cardboard remains of lime Jell-o boxes to keep warm whilst Goatie (that's what I called him) made sweet music with his slide trombone. I cooked rich soups, full of barley flowers and scraps from the vinyl clothing factory, then danced to the music wearing nothing but Scotch tape.

On special occasions, Jason Priestley dropped by, to whom we would say, "Hey, Jason Priestley!" He ignored us, for the most part, choosing to play on the monkey bars rather than engage in false conversation.

But that was before Xanax and Prozac and before the stunning legislation that moved the Tropic of Capricorn nearly 10 latitudinal degrees farther south. Now things are very different indeed.

Roadnotes: L.A. 3

I am at the airport early, with plenty of time before my flight.  When I get a water, I notice that there is a man waiting for the cashier while she stocks items a few feet away.  She stops immediately as I walk up.

The man asks for change, so she tells him that she has to help me first (in order to open the cash register, I'm assuming).  She rings up my water, then gets the guy his change.

This sets off a series of thoughts:

Was my desire to get a water really part of a larger impulse to help the universe flow smoothly?  The man may have had to wait a while for the next purchaser to come along and allow the cashier to open the register.  Am I that in tune with the cosmos?

Or maybe the girl was in tune.  She instinctively knew that she couldn't help the man, so she continued to stock items until another person arrived.  Of course, this would all imply that the man was NOT in tune, because he grew angry from the wait.  Does the wait mean you're not in tune?  No, just the anger that comes on at having to wait.  Sometimes waiting is what you are supposed to do.  It's all a matter of intricate timing, you see.

Speaking of intricate timing, the bottle of Scotch that Adam brought me as a gift way back in April (but forgot in L.A.) is finally in my possession, thanks to the kindly babysitting of Victoria and perhaps a helpful reminder from Jeremy the Great so that she wouldn't forget to give it to me.  I'm anxious to try it, but unfortunately I wind up heading out to Denver before I get a chance.

(Denver roadnotes coming up - and don't forget my reading on the 30th, if you're in the Denver area.)

Roadnotes: L.A. 2

Note: the following is based on events that occurred on Sunday, September 24.

My stomach hurts most of the day.  Nerves?  Something viral?  No idea.

I'm dehydrated, sure, but I feel way worse than usual and by the time I show up to do the Pointless Banter Show, I want to just curl up in a ball in the corner.

Not only do I not feel well, but I look a mess, too.  I decided to give myself a haircut before I came to L.A. and gouged a good bit out of the side of my head, and I borrowed a razor to shave and wound up slicing up a good bit of my neck.  What's the deal?  I'm comforted by the fact that no one really cares, and most people won't notice.

I decided it's mostly nerves because after the show I feel much better.  I don't get that nervous before readings but this was an unscripted conversation and apparently that unwound me a little.

However, Kevin and Trista were most gracious hosts, easy to talk to, and didn't even molest me once (on camera, that is).

After the show, we all meet Will and Kristen at a karaoke bar where Jeremy busts out a Rob Zombie tune in most impressive fashion (I have pictures of that - no time to upload them)....

Aaaaaaron will be on Internet TV!

I will be on Internet TV this Sunday (September 24) at 8pm PST!  To tune in and find out who the REAL Aaron Dietz is, just go to Musicplustv.com!  You will be able to IM questions for me to answer (if that be your taste, times being what they are) and the show hosts, Kevin and Trista, have threatened to "play a game with" me, whatever that means.

Also, I am traveling to Denver for a reading on September 30 at 9:30pm at the Old Curtis Street Bar (2100 Curtis Street).  Zac Tasjian, Citymouse, and I will all read, and Jason Heller and Big Al will spin some great music.  If you're in the Denver area, check it out.

Aaaaaaron has been recalled

Greetings.  I am Zorgnarf, alien inventor.  My robot,
Aaaaaaron, is malfunctioning.  He has schizorobotia and thinks he's three people
now: Aaaaaaron, Gordon, and Elda, an eighty year old seamstress.

A Profile of a Roommate

Name: Gordon Felcher Dumbhead

Profession: Apprentice Plumber

Place of birth: Murdock, Kansas.

Interests: Stealing Aaron's passwords.

Favorite color: Jealous of Aaron's blogging success.

Favorite music: Waiting for Aaron to be gone for an entire day so he can attempt to steal all of Aaron's readers.

Favorite movie: Lies about his age (he is two years older than he says).

Favorite TV show: Making shit up about himself and/or others.

Best trait: Seriously, Gordon really pissed me off with that blog the other day and I didn't even know until this morning.

The Real Me

I've been feeling guilty about this for a while now and it's time to come clean: I'm not who I've been saying I was.  I'm not Aaaaaaron.  I'm not a writer.  And I'm not cool (although many of you had already figured that one out).

I'm a plumber.  I plumb.  It's what I do.  I created this account in order to live out my fantasy life online.  I've always wanted to get lots of chicks but I'm too lazy to do anything difficult (like learn guitar, or play sports), so I figured in my fantasy life I would be this ultra-cool blogger because bloggers get chicks and all they have to do is blog, you know?

The pictures I was using are of my nephew.  He is really cool.  He goes to school and gets all these chicks and before he was 12 he could beat me at Connect Four.  My nephew knows how to play guitar.  And he is good at several sports.

No, I'm not half as cool as that little twirp.  My real name is Gordon.

It's not even Goooooordon.  Just Gordon.

So, if you want to unsubscribe or something, I won't feel bad.  I know you were only reading because you thought it was somebody cool, and not a plumber.  I want to believe that plumbers can become good bloggers, but that's quite a stretch, isn't it?  Anyway, I'll keep hoping...and blogging...and maybe someday I'll get lucky.  Thank you for listening.

This one's for you, Joey Polanski!

Joey Polanski is funny. You can be assured that he is because I have linked to him in more than one place. I don't do that because he gives me money. No. I do that because he is just that funny. You all should check him out. See? I've even linked to him from my Web site.

The Book Release Party...

The book release party, for Reserved For Emperors, was a huge success. Many of the finest names and faces in Seattle attended and Freckleface even called and offered the best toast ever by speaker phone:

"To Aaron Dietz, I wanna be just like him when I grow up--even more of a babe magnet than a pair of Converse All Stars."

The twins even color-coordinated with the book!

I took a moment to show off a painting I received from A Balanced Contradiction, as well. She's the greatest!

Also, I cooked myself a nice dinner a couple weeks ago. That really has nothing to do with the book release. I just wanted to share that.

Thanks to all those that came out (and the people who were there in spirit)! And thanks to all the congratulations and support! Thanks to C-Dawg, for all the work planning and preparing for the event!

My Book Is Now Available!

My book is finally out: Reserved For Emperors is available on lulu.com.

Aaron Dietz unleashes his first collection of blogs with over 90 pages of additional commentary! He explains why he is better than you! He tells you how to start an earthquake for free! He organizes your closet!* This book is a regular tour de force!**

* Note: Aaron Dietz does not actually organize your closet; nor does the book.

** If, by "tour," you mean "book," and if by "de force," you mean "for sale."

The book is $11.99 (plus some shipping costs), but it can be downloaded for less than $3.  If you do have it shipped - make sure to select a cheap shipping method - my first time on Lulu.com defaulted to something pretty expensive and I was glad I noticed.

I was pleased to get Erik Tosten to do the cover. Check out his work sometime. One other thing of note is that in addition to over 90 pages of supplemental material that can't be found online, this book contains two original pieces of writing that I've not published elsewhere (one of them is my first comic strip in over two decades).

Also, if you're interested in attending the small book release celebration, send me a message; it's this Saturday night.

Thank you, everyone, for encouraging me to release this book!

A Phone Conversation

Kali: James, what's up?

James: Not much. What's the dealio, K-bob?

Kali: What's the what? I don't get it.

James: I don't get it, either.

Kali: You don't "get it"? Or you don't get "it"?

James: Did you just use quotes on me? Over the phone?

Kali: What? What do you mean?

James: You just, you know, "used quotes."

Kali: Uh..."no I didn't."

James: You just "did it" again.

Kali: I did "what" exactly?

James: That.

Kali: "That."

James: ""That.""

Kali: """That"""?

James: """"That.""""

Kali: """""That"""""? Seriously?

James: """"""That."""""" "Seriously."

Kali: "Oh."

James: "Yeah."

Kali: "Sorry."

James: That's what I thought.

Kali: So, how's it, you know, "going"?

James: How's "it" going?

Kali: Yeah. "How's ""it"" "going"?"

James: Yeah....

Kali: "Yeah?"

James: ""Yeah.""

Kali: """Yeah?"""

James: No.

Why all the hot girls should want to ride the Aaaaaaron stick

Recent contest winner Adam got to choose a blog topic for me to write about. He chose, "Why all the hot girls should want to ride the Aaaaaaron Stick."

This challenged me because:

A. It implies that the "hot girls" DON'T want to ride the Aaaaaaron stick (which is of course entirely untrue).
B. Who says I WANT the "hot girls" to ride the Aaaaaaron stick (I mean, I'm fairly choosy and I like to take good care of my disease-free stick)?

(This is not to say all "hot girls" have diseases. I'm also choosy for other reasons.)

But if I must explain why the "hot girls" should want to ride my stick, then I must. And here is one reason:

I can turn ingredients lists on various food products into erotic poems. It works well with just about anything, but I particularly like those that end in "spices."

It's really much better in person, but check out Zatarain's Red Beans and Rice:

Ingredients:

enriched long grain parboiled rice

(iron phosphate,
niacin,
thiamine mononitrate and folic acid),

cooked and dehydrated red beans,

enriched wheat flour

(niacin,
reduced iron,
thiamine mononitrate,
riboflavin,
folic acid),

malted barley flour, salt,

dehydrated vegetables

(onion,
bell pepper),

soy sauce

(100 per cent soybean),

yeast extract, dextrose, soybean
oil,

thiamine hydrochloride,

natural and artificial flavors,

modified corn starch,

torula yeast,

natural
smoke
flavor,

garlic,
caramel color,

spices.

Chapter 11 of a Thankfully Unfinished Saga

Chapter 11: An Unseemly Transmission

Wherein Aaron and Ptolemy-Boy discover
Farmer Latham beaten to unconsciousness.
Also wherein later that day Aaron and
Ptolemy-Boy intercept an unruly transmission
that yields suprising information….

“Look, Ptolemy-boy!” Aaron shouted. “Over there, in the tall grass!”

Ptolemy-boy saw it, too. There was a patch of blue showing through the weeds that matched Farmer Latham’s patented shade of overall.

They rushed to the spot and knelt down. Farmer Latham wasn’t moving.

“Let’s wake him up, Ptolemy-Boy!”

Ptolemy-Boy poured water from his trusty canteen on to Farmer Latham’s face.

“Someone’s beaten him to unconsciousness!” said Aaron.

“You fools,” Farmer Latham said, stirring slightly and spitting up water. “The chapter description already said that.”

Later that day, Aaron and Ptolemy-boy found themselves en route to Carstone 7-9er, when a high-priority transmission broke through their thoughtful silence.

“This is fuck niner fuck. How the fuck fuck are you fucks?”

“Ah,” Aaron said, “it’s Rogers.”

He flipped a switch and answered Rogers’ call. “We’re fine, Rogers. What’s up?”

Ptolemy-Boy whispered, “Get ready to be surprised.”

“No no-” Aaron said, “-that would be the wrong thing to do. If we’re prepared to be surprised, then we won’t fulfill the chapter description, because you can’t be surprised if you’re prepared to be. No, we’ll just have to expect nothing.”

Then Aaron said, “Could you repeat that, Rogers? The reader didn’t get to hear what you said while I was talking to Ptolemy-Boy.”

“I for fuck fuck’s sake said, ‘Fuck, I’m going to fuck fuck the fuck fuck out of a fucking fuckmaster alien weirdo who fuck waits fuck tables at the fucking fuck fuck barn’.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Aaron said. “But why are you sharing this with us in a priority message, Rogers?”

“This alien weirdo fucking claims the fuck fuck to be your fuck fuck wife, you fuck fuck fuck!”

Ptolemy-Boy was surprised. “Aaron, you never told me you were married.”

Aaron was surprised also. “I didn’t know I was.”

Rogers said, “And your kids are butt-ugly, no fucks about it!”

Men, do you REALLY care about the environment?

If you do, stop using kleenex and paper towels to wank off into. You are killing trees everytime you dump your jollies!

Just grab the waste can when you're ready and drop it directly in, effectively cutting out the middle man (middle tree, in this case). Or, simply move over to the window.

Got Cavities? Blame the Civil Engineers!

I discovered their Cavity Generator! You heard it here first!

The Good Thing About Corporations

Corporations are sometimes evil. Sometimes they are not evil but they still do evil things. Today, I’m going to tell you why corporations are good, especially when compared to, say, politicians.

And here is why: corporations have to pay attention to their constituents.

And their constituents are you, the consumer!

If you are not buying their product, corporations have to change in order to give you what you want (otherwise, they will not make any money). If they are out there being evil, shoving processed food out on the market, hiring slave labor, etcetera, then you have only yourself to blame (collectively, as a population of consumers, that is - I’m sure YOU, personally, never support such corporations). Ultimately, if all consumers purchased responsibly, corporations would behave responsibly (with a few exceptions - see below).

Politicians, however, only need to pay attention to you during election time. And even then, they know that having money for TV commercials will be much more important than any stand they can take on any particular issue. So, essentially, their constituents are wealthy lobby groups and…corporations. Hmmm. But the corporations are supported by US! That means we could take over this damned country! We only need to purchase responsibly and our attitudes toward commerce will “trickle up.”

Exception to the rule: In cases where corporations only sell to politicians (I’m thinking of defense contracts, here), the “trickle up” theory breaks down. Too bad. We almost had them.

Failed Book Titles

I'm pretty confident I've figured out the title of my first book of blogs, so I'm going to list the best of the titles I discarded:

I Am Better Than You

I Wish I Was Humble

Jumbotronic

Woman has religious experience in shopping center

Seattle, WA - An unidentified woman was seen outside a clothing store having uncontrollable fits of hysteria.

Witnesses say she exited the popular store, at approximately 4:25pm saying, "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, oh my God."

She then rushed to her friends and said, "You have to see this."

She held her bag open while her friends gazed at the recent purchase.

"Isn't it the most amazing thing you've ever seen?" the woman asked.

"Oh my God," said one of her friends, reaching in the bag to touch it.

A Personals Ad for Thor

Norse god seeks woman who doesn't get jealous

What Thor means when he says thou must not get jealous is that thou must not get jealous of Thor's mighty hair! But it matters not, for once thou hast ridden the mighty Thor, thou will return to Thor as if by magic, just like mine magic hammer, Mjolnir. Mine Mjolner is capable of many things, one of them thou will experience as "awesome superhero hammer juice." No, Thor will not explain! Thor seeks a woman who will accompany Thor on moonlight flying, long walks in Asgard, and movie watching (but no horror movies with scary children in them - they are too scary because Thor cannot bring himself to smash kids' faces in with Mjolnir, so what can Thor do against such a menace?).

Adventures of Dogboy: Dogboy Visits Shrink!

Hello, everyone. After much deliberation*, I have decided to begin putting regular exclusive content on my pointlessbanter.net blog. The exclusive content will be posted every Monday and will be all about Dogboy and his amazing adventures! Just to give you a taste of the action, here is today's blog. Further Dogboy adventures will be posted only on pointlessbanter.net (on Mondays).

And now: the Adventures of Dogboy: Dogboy Visits Shrink!

Dogboy stares at wall.

Shrink say -Dogboy, how does it make you feel?

-I feel like taffy. You like taffy?

-It pulls at my fillings, so...no.

-How much this cost?

Dogboy gets bill and thinks of time when Hulk go crazy but didnt even go to Shrink and never had to pay Shrink bill. Dogboy thinks, Hulk is awesome, because he cures himself.

In Dogboys head, world revolves around pencil while pencil writes answer to life on back of Dogboy ear.

Dogboy pays Shrink bill.




* Four large men put me in the trunk of their car until I decided this.

You Win, C.I.A. Agent Jones

Do you remember when C.I.A. Agent Jones made my life miserable by forcing me to go to extreme measures just to get my favorite breath-freshening, potentially cancer-causing chewing gum?

Do you remember when I finally found a source in Seattle where I could buy Everest, only to find that C.I.A. Agent Jones had tricked me into buying the wrong flavor?

Well, I found yet another source and I went there the other day to buy more, only to find that C.I.A. Agent Jones had finally won the game.



Do you see that empty spot where nothing is stocked? That's where the Everest was supposed to be. I asked a sales person if they were getting any more in and he practically laughed in my face.

"I dont think so," he said.

You see, I'm afraid that C.I.A. Agent Jones has gone and shut down the whole company, just to keep me from buying my favorite gum. I can't even get it from candydirect.com anymore, and Everest's official Web site (everestgum.com), is now unavailable.

I give up, C.I.A. Agent Jones. You win.

About the Author

Quite a while ago, when I was asking people for ideas on what to write about, Kat suggested I write an "About the Author" as an exercise. I loved the idea, but it took me a while to get to it. So now, finally, here we go....

Take 1

Aaaaaaron suggests that everyone write at least one book, even if it is never published. No matter how bad it is, it will still be treasured by your offspring and if you have no offspring, you can donate it to your nearest library archive project. Sooner or later, someone will happen upon your work and believe it to be the most spectacularly wonderful thing in the world. It's true. I've seen it happen. So do it. Oh crap, this was supposed to be about me, wasn't it?

Take 2

Aaaaaaron currently resides in Seattle. Wait a minute. How come authors are always currently residing everywhere?* What's wrong with just plain ol' living? And what's with this "currently" stuff? People can pretty much assume that it's current unless they're reading something that was published five years ago, in which case, it might not be accurate information anymore. A more appropriate beginning might be this: "Aaaaaaron lives. Unless of course, by the time you read this, he does not, which would be sad if you knew him, because he was a great guy." Crap. I'm messing this up again.

Okay, Take 3

Aaaaaaron lives in a haze of random infatuation and misguided, self-invented jurisprudence. On a cloudy day, you might imagine his face in the sky, especially if you don't know what he looks like, because then just about any cloud will do. He has a friend that always wants him to play House of the Rising Sun on guitar every time he visits, but Aaaaaaron, thus far, has never learned the song.

* not actually my joke - I stole that one and added to it.

A Promotional Break

First of all, let me promote a few excellent writers who have books out. If you have a little money and want to support innovative literature, please check them out. Downloading their books is really rather cheap (just a few bucks) and you can also order the physical artifact if you like (make sure you pay attention to which shipping method you use – the UPS shipping can be costly)

Gary R Smith II’s Dog Person



Alex Vermitsky’s Some Semblance of Spring



Vincent Truman’s Ugly Bungalow



See, if I promote some friends books now, it will seem less sleazy when I promote my own first book of blogs, coming out within one month. But don't worry - I also have some free stuff to promote: writings by me!

First of all, for those of you who don’t know, I am posting my blogs on pointlessbanter.net. Many of your favorite bloggers are there and they even have cool stuff like an Internet TV show on Sunday nights! Yes, I’ll still be posting blogs here and usually they will be the same ones that are on Pointless Banter, but just like all my blogging sites, I like to throw in something unique to a site once in a while, just to keep the hardcore stalkers busy.

I am continuing to write for Needles for Teeth, an excellent literary and arts journal with distribution in Denver and, most recently, Japan. Here are a few of my pieces from their web version:

I was a blade of grass

Pedestrian Luck

A Smoke

And even though I haven’t had time to write for Punch Panda recently, I wanted to share these pieces with you, available on PunchPanda.com:

Evolution: Can It Be True?

My ASS Will Save America

There. I hope I’ve given you too much to read. Go now, and conquer the world instead.

Scotch: An Incomplete Primer

This is an incomplete Scotch primer for those wishing to know more about such a thing. Saunter down to your local Irish pub and try a few. Order it "neat" (without ice) and sip. Grow hair.

Lagavulin: Simply the best. It is harsh, manly and vibrant. It is also like sucking down a camp fire (very smoky). The bottle is distinctively attractive, just like the box it comes in. For a poetic description of what Lagavulin does to a person, see this poem I wrote about it.

Dalwhinnie: The closest thing you can get to the quality of Lagavulin for $30 a bottle less than Lagavulin. Plenty of peat, a little smoky.

Talisker: This is a manly Scotch, and quite excellent, but it's no Lagavulin.

Glenlivet: A lot of people drink this because they can actually swallow it without feeling puke run up their throat. This is an easy starter Scotch, but you will never understand how far it is from true excellence (Lagavulin) unless you move up. For some, Glenlivet is the end-all be-all. For me, it is the beginning of "adequate."

Macallan 12 and 18: So very smooth and palatable - a quite tasty Scotch. However, I've noticed that, in America, it's primarily assholes that order this drink. Seriously. Even in movies, characters that are assholes will order Macallan. I'm an asshole, too - I just don't like to readily advertise that fact. Still don't believe me? Ask your nearest lawyer what Scotch he drinks. Now, if you're ordering this anywhere in Europe, things change. Nice people order Macallan there, so if you're in Europe, have at it! Within the United States, in order to be cool, you must stay away from the smooth, easy Scotches and try to get closer to Lagavulin.

Have I mentioned Lagavulin, yet?

Ladies, I Am Issuing My Demands

Attention, females:

If these prophylactics cannot be used properly by this deadline:



...then I will be forced to destroy them.

You have eight and a half months to comply.

Roadnotes: Eugene to Seattle

I'm getting old. This whole trip was a struggle because I'm so overconscious of two things:

1. When will I get the next protein-filled vegetarian meal?
2. When will I next be able to get on the Internet?

The trip was great, but these things weighed on the back of my mind the whole time. I was away from the Internet for pretty much the whole weekend and it felt awful (I posted these latest roadnotes from home, after the trip, straight out of my journal). I just can't bear to be away from you all.

But anyway, Trapper gave me a ride to Portland and from there I caught the bus to Seattle. I'm home now. Another good trip. Sorry, to both of the people who invited me to Vancouver recently...I am not able to make it....

Die Hard and Die Hard 2: Movies for Sensitive Men

Die Hard raised the bar for what an action film could be by giving audiences a new level of realism other films were quick to pick up on. Here was our hero getting hurt - not just getting bloody, but getting hurt in a more human way than audiences were used to. He's a regular cop and a regular dad and husband with regular problems-not a "Rambo" type that measures on the scale of a superhuman entity.

But Die Hard didn't stop there. It showed audiences a manly, regular guy that could also be sensitive. In one scene, John McClain (played by Bruce Willis) picks glass out of his feet (a manly moment), while telling his new friend over the radio about how much he loves his wife and how badly he screwed things up in their relationship. Aw, how sensitive! In that scene, Die Hard demonstrates that masculinity does not have to exclude emotion and sensitivity.

Die Hard 2 also pushed the envelope in deconstructing the traditional male stereotype. In one of the first scenes of the film, John McClain enters the airport and takes one quick glance around before asking for information.

"Where are the telephones?" he says.

If the hero of the Die Hard series can ask for directions, then it should be okay for other men to do so without their masculine nature feeling threatened.

Hacking the Marvel Universe

The Redhead recently requested the following: "I would like a blog about how to hack into alternate universes. (You can write it in 4@xx0r if you like.)" So, in the style of Touching the Paperboy's Melnet posts, I have answered the call of the hero.

run C:..4@xx0r.exe
loading
4@xx0r: whackjob//
4@xx0r-->whackjob//^dud@34s: ******
4@xx0r-->d!d: 200605280318d^@s)dkd
4@xx0r-->whackjob//: !6dfd@er4(4@xx0r,engusa)
4@xx0r-->Rput: USA English loaded
4@xx0r-->whackjob//: load(comicHacks,'C:..support4xx0r..')
4@xx0r-->Rput: loading...
4@xx0r-->Rput: comicHacks loaded
4@xx0r-->whackjob//: hackUverse(Marvel)
4@xx0r-->Rput: Err(13)|Missing parameter(1,universeNo)|
4@xx0r-->whackjob//: selUverse(Marvel,0)
4@xx0r-->Rput: Universe=Marvel.0
4@xx0r-->whackjob//: selCharacter(Magneto)
4@xx0r-->Rput: Character=Marvel.0.Magneto
4@xx0r-->whackjob//: displayGenitalia
4@xx0r-->Rput: Magneto
version=0
testicles=2
penis=1
vagina=0
4@xx0r-->whackjob//: hackGenitalia('Marvel.0.Magneto',testicles )
4@xx0r-->Rput: Marvel.0.Magneto updated
4@xx0r-->whackjob//: displayGenitalia
4@xx0r-->Rput: Magneto
version=0
testicles=3
penis=1
vagina=0
4@xx0r-->whackjob//: Ha ha ha! Ive changed the Marvel universe!
4@xx0r-->Rput: Err(2)|Misspelled command()|
4@xx0r-->whackjob//: Yer stupid!!!
4@xx0r-->Rput: Err(2)|Misspelled command()|
4@xx0r-->whackjob//: deSelCharacter(Magneto)
4@xx0r-->Rput: Magneto deselected
4@xx0r-->whackjob//: deSelUverse(Marvel,0)
4@xx0r-->Rput: Marvel.0 deselected
4@xx0r-->whackjob//: saveUverse(Marvel,0)
4@xx0r-->Rput: Marvel.0 updated
4@xx0r-->whackjob//: logout
4@xx0r-->d!d: 200605280327d^@s(dkd
End

Roadnotes: Eugene 2

Trapper shows me around some more, to places that are sacred because of the company he held. I also get a chance to catch up with two friends from way back, though only for a brief time.

However, I do make visiting the Eugene Public Library a priority because of their famous "sorter" machine. It's a machine with treadmills and levers and arms (sort of) that returns library items and sorts them onto carts. A staffmember willingly takes me through the area without too much coercion on my part.

I'm standing there, looking at this thing in awe, when the staffmember says, "Very Goldberg, isn't it?"

"Yes," I answer.

She seems somewhat suspicious of me as I have openly admitted that I am no longer working for libraries.

"So," I say, "what does it use to sort the items? Is it a media code?"

She answers affirmatively and explains further, no longer suspicious.

The Da Vinci Code: A Striking Portrait of Misogyny

For a movie based on a book that was all about popularizing the concept of the sacred feminine, the Da Vinci Code left too much to the men.

Admittedly, the book itself is somewhat sexist. It's written by a man who described the resurgence of the "sacred feminine" as being led by men, controlled by men and even only understood by men. But at least there was a female character who knew a little about cryptology.

The movie makes one mention of the heroine's occupation, then lets the men figure out every single puzzle while Audrey Tatou (who plays the heroine) focuses on her specialty: looking overwhelmed and befuddled.

Don't get me wrong, she's cute when she does this, but it would be nice if they'd have let her do something that furthered the plot somehow.

Oh well. Also, the movie was boring.

Roadnotes: Eugene 1

It's good to hang out with Trapper again. I meet several friends of his, among them a reknowned bibliographer of Neal Cassady.

I get an excellent Animal House walking tour of the campus. Yes, the movie was filmed here and many of the environments are quite recognizable.

We hang out on a couple campus benches to talk and watch trees. Trapper and I finish slices of Sys Pizza. It is at this moment that I get a call from Victoria - she tells me she may have concocted a plan to get me my bottle of Scotch (thanks, Adam, and all those involved, in case I should ever see this bottle).

Update: The plan failed. I still do not have the gift from the Englishman.

Roadnotes: Portland

I'm headed to Eugene.

Fortunately, I get a free ride as far as Portland from the two Tauruses (well, not REALLY free I now owe them a reading of In Me Own Words, an autobiography of Bigfoot, in character and everything).

That gave me time to eat Thai food with a Portlandian friend before I caught a bus to Eugene.

While taking me to the Greyhound station, my friend and I start talking about my blogs and also (it logically follows) about kaka.

"You should use kaka in a blog," she says.

"Oh, the poop joke thing is played out. I should know."

"No, just use the word, kaka, somehow."

I get indignant. "Oh, so you think thats how it works? You can just tell me what to write and Ill put it in a blog?"

But that is totally how it works.

Yes, U.S. Citizens, Your Freedom is at Stake

I have no good news. Communications companies are spending millions lobbying Congress to turn the Internet into a private enterprise.

Our civil liberties are already in dubious standing without this heinous nuisance. The Internet is the only venue that we can count on for sharing vital civil rights information. Without Internet neutrality, companies will be able to decide what Web sites you can visit just like they decide which cable channels you can buy.

If you don't know what I'm talking about, watch the video on this page.

If you want to sign the petition that will help put a stop to this nonsense, go here.

A Blogger's resource list is here, where you can get links for your own blog (on the right) and register your blog once you've written about it.

If you don't know your history....

If you don't know your history, you are doomed to repeat it.

But that's okay, because you'll never know you're repeating it, since you don't know it in the first place.

So it's all good.