I’m writing this less than ten minutes into watching “Bullet Proof Monk” and, well, wish people would just feel free to make movies with martial arts unencumbered by attempts to have the movie make sense. Evidently, these Buddhist monks somewhere in Tibet guard this amazing scroll that, if read aloud, will give the person who reads it the power to turn the world into a paradise or hell. Right. And I’m supposed to believe that after years of guarding this source of “phenomenal cosmic power” they didn’t figure out that the fate of mankind and life in general would be a whole lot easier is they just destroyed the thing. Of course, for the movie to continue, no one’s allowed to be that smart.
Or “30 Days of Night?” If these guys are so worried about vampires, why don’t they just move closer to the equator? Oh no. Way too easy. The entire town has to stay there and die from hypothermia or by being chewed to death by armies of the fanged and evil semi-dead.
This man’s major concern is wondering where he’s going to to be able to fit his newly won television. If I had been in charge of the contest, I would have included special “unspecified prizes” like a gym membership, a Nordic Track, a library card, and gift certificates to an organic food store.
On the Central Coast, there are a surprising number of people who are of British ancestry. Something drew them away from Jolly Ol’ England, and they come into my store with their accents, and I ask them whereabouts in England they’re from.
One particular gentleman today enthralled me with his rather ribald and witty speech. He holds three degrees in fields as diverse and difficult as chemistry, statistics, and the philosophy of politics. He was glad to hear of my intentions to pursue higher academics and took it upon himself to reinforce the notion that if at the age of 45 I was just sitting on a couch, throwing back six packs, and watching the tele, I’d probably regret it. A portion of the conversation went like this.
“You live with your mum and dad?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re not married, are you?” (trying to conceal possible disappointment)
“Nope, not at all.”
“Yeah, well then just piss off, man.”
“Well, I’ve applied to….”
“Yeah, just piss off!”
I thanked him for his encouragement, and offered my sincere hopes that he would find the proper remedy for his ailing grapefruit trees. There’s just something delightful about cross-cultural contexts of language wherein the same phrase can, in one scenario, be an imperative tantamount to “get lost” and in another signify encouragement in a course of action. Darn right I’m gonna piss off.
I came across this video as I was perusing some Ben Folds on youtube. Not that the two are at ALL connected. Apparently, this kind of thing is commonplace at Indian weddings. I need to meet some Indian people. I detect the distinct influence of Michael Jackson. I need that brown coat in the beginning. And a brightly garbed dancing entourage.
When we last left our warriors, the Apple and AT&T corporations were in hiding. they were defeated by the rebel alliance who developed programs that could break the bonds that these corporations had placed on the precious iPhone. However, the corporations did not hide idly as the world roamed free with their creations, as was written in the book of napkins by the prophet napkinini. They sat, coniving and developed software updates that would render any phone in the hands of a rebel, worthless, unusable, and “broken”. But the book of napkin gave the rebels hope.
The scripture reads as follows:
napkinini writes: My lawyer senses are tingling as multitudes of lawyers use their new iPhones to contact representatives for a deliciously huge class action lawsuit against the Big Apple.
The prophet, in these words, fortold that “justice” would be served in time, and that the wandering in the wilderness will soon come to an end for the rebels, and they shall one day walk onto the land of promise. But now, my fellow blogsplogians, that prophecy is FULFILLED!
Yes brothers, the corporations’ fate now lies at the mercy of a massive gavel. The world is watching, empire and rebel alike, in anxious expectation for the revelation of the verdict. We can only hope that the “prophet” will be able to foretell the outcome soon, so that our desires can be satisfied. It seems only appropriate that this prophecy come to its fulfillment on the prophet’s birthday. Happy Birthday Napkinini!
Here’s a little head-scratcher I came across this morning while listening to the radio: www.ashleymadison.com. It’s a dating website whose tagline is “When Monogamy Becomes Monotony.” It’s designed to facilitate dating between members who are already married. Now, one would think that working for an agency that facilitates affairs would be somewhat morally troubling, even in a culture that’s a big fan of fleeting marital commitments. So the founder and president works overtime trying to justify the business. The resulting interview on the radio was the most masterful use of double-talk I’ve ever heard.
The argument went something like this:
“We’re not making it easier for people to cheat on their spouses, nor are we encouraging them to cheat. We’re facilitating affairs in a way that makes them safer for the cheater. People sign up for the service of their own free will, so they bear the full responsibility of their wrecked marriages.”
Now, I don’t know how advertising safe cheating doesn’t count as tempting people, but I marvel at the founder’s wordsmithing ability. I don’t know that I could keep it up.
I wonder if he could make the same argument if he were advertising assault rifles over the internet using the campaign “Shoot your boss and get away with it.” “We’re not encouraging workplace violence. We’re just making it safe for people to gun down their co-workers.”
The website is worth a visit just to see their advertising. It says “as seen on… Dr. Phil… 20/20… etc., etc.” but most of the segments on it are extremely negative. In the Dr. Phil segment, the founder argues that it’s not immoral because it’s not illegal. Thankfully, moral discourse in the popular square hasn’t degraded enough that people are willing to buy that one. On the plus side, the Dr. Phil segment does involve one of the producers going undercover and surprising a would-be cheater. Maybe that will convince viewers that it won’t be entirely safe for them to use the service.
The astute followers of my blogs (all two of you) may recall Angela Platt, the lady who embezzled millions from her employer to fund necessities for life, such as fire-breathing dragons and the talking trees from classic fantasy movies. Well, the Boston Globe has a slideshow of the myriad of wonderful things she purchased with embezzled cash, including her enormous ranch house and horse.
Also, my previous blogs received numerous hits by referencing Angela Platt. I am hoping this will be another failed publicity stunt to get people to BLOGSPLOG!
Posted by The Grand Inquisitor 
Posted by The Grand Inquisitor 
Posted by The Grand Inquisitor 
Of all possible powers combined…why, Manatee, why?
