Flavor Flav…?

Last night, Ben Folds performed at the end of Conan O’Brien’s nightly show, playing his most radio-friendly duet with Regina Spektor, “You Don’t Know Me.”  I should have waited until the very end.  O’Brien’s first guest was Mr. Tom Arnold, who was tolerable.  But then, oh THEN, O’Brien and his audience were ushered into that ignominious realm of confusion known as “Proximity to Flavor Flav.”  Mr. Flav showed up wearing a Larry Bird Celtics jersey the size of a mumu, and, of course, his clock.  I understand that he is to be credited (if not thanked) for his contributions to rap and hip-hop through Public Enemy, but I found myself baffled by his every word and mannerism.  This situation rarely bodes well for my patience.  How does one have a conversation with a man who commands the audience to shout your name?  “Flavor Flav!” he commands.  And upon receiving their contrived adulation, he blows kisses at them.  Mwah mwah mwah.  How, um, affectionate. This behavior, however, shouldn’t be viewed as irregular.  Wikipedia informs us, “His visual trademark is an oversized clock hanging from his neck and repeatedly yelling his own name.”    O’Brien even looked baffled, and probably wondered why he hadn’t interviewed BEN FOLDS instead.  Still trying to play the professional, gracious host, he tried to change the subject asking Mr. Flav about his new dance.  Apparently, you can’t be a “real” rap artist these days unless you have a new dance to go with your new song.  We can thank (condemn) Soulja Boy for this phenomenon.  Mr. Flav got O’Brien to join him on the floor.  The dance was about as energetic as a a yoga class in a retirement home, and as inspiring as luke-warm beer.  He’s got more money than New Jersey (which isn’t Texas, but it’s enough); he should develop some common sense and disappear until he has something else to say but his name.

Educating the Retarded Child, By Kirk Johnson

Etiology of Mental Retardation:

(1) Mongoloid children seem to be more prevalent in older mothers than in younger mothers, although mongolism occurs in both.  More than 50 per cent of the mothers Benda studied wer beyond the age of thirty-five when their mongoloid child was born.

Translation:

Old ladies make dumb babies.

I…

quit my job!

And this clown knows it!

I have decided that every time I quit a job for the next 20 years I will post in this blog the day that I do it. Some sort of consolation prize for myself I guess.

Shit I’m poor.

More Irony

Down with the Simpsons, up with…scantily-clad women?

New Milestones in Mediocrity

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.

Islam vs. Teddy Bears

It has been said that religion is the opiate of the masses (Karl Marx), and as an extension of that, it should be said that people do funny things when under the influence of opiates of any sort. Here in America, we try and swing the two-edged sword of thought and humor against all such foes. During the day, hundreds of young students are recipient to earnest pleadings that they avoid drugs. But come late night television, our media sensations try and intoxicate their audience with the joyfully addictive laughter, and do so often at the expense of those students who did NOT say no to drugs, or still believe they’re capable of drinking and driving without consequence. Yes, I’m talking to you, Lindsay, Paris, Brittany…oh, the list is too long.

By way of metaphor, I say all this just to remark that I’m all for thoughtful, interfaith discussions. Discussion, however, usually requires composition and patience on the part of those involved. The Sudanese government displays something less than these qualities for jailing a teacher over naming a bear Mohammed. An attack on religion? Give me a break. I’ve been doing something thinking, and I think I can understand what they’re upset about. This teddy bear makes Islam (or at least Mohammed) seem too fluffy, loving, and tender. If the bear were, instead of being a school mascot, emptied of its stuffing and filled with C4 to be used as bomb, or perhaps equipped with an AK-47, maybe then it could earn the name. After all, how many suicide bombers have been named Mohammed, and had their actions revered by the same sort of people who, I imagine, don’t care much for teddy bears?

In America religion is constantly under attack, and to attack it is almost a right guarded by the first amendment. Shows like “Family Guy,” “The Simpsons,” etc. all portray Jesus, the Church, and our practices as ridiculous at best. Consider the first scene from the attached video.

Jesus turns water into funk. Ridiculous. And, kinda funny too. But the point is, Seth MacFarlane’s perception of Jesus does not come from supernatural visions, but with his interaction with the Church—with the body of Christ and its many members. When people crack jokes about Jesus, it’s more a condemnation of the poor way I’ve portrayed Him, and poorly I have. How can Christ POSSIBLY be glorified if I get all ticked off and beat them into a pulp (or otherwise humiliate them). Let’s not forget that when the REAL Jesus came to earth, humiliation was this guy’s middle name. He came to SERVE. He let Himself be crucified, holding back the legions of angels who were, I’m sure, sobbing, furious, and waiting for the chance to run Romans through with flaming swords. So when the Church is bashed, when our actions are mocked, when our bad history is brought up, for sins not my own, what else can I say but, “I’m sorry. Forgive me, forgive us, and give me another chance to love you right.”

I imagine that Jesus is not unaware of the constant cultural commentary surrounding his person, and I imagine that some of it makes Him even laugh while most of us are getting all worried about how his reputation is getting dragged through the dirt. Well, who’s dragging it? I wouldn’t be surprised if Jesus, once He has collected all of us, actually did turn water into funk, just to show us that He’s greater than the frowns I wear as if for his sake here on earth. But who do the Muslims in Sudan actually imagine Mohammed was, that he might have been so offended? I can’t help but wonder if they’re not more than a little confused about who they’re favorite prophet was, anymore than Christians are confused. But at least I’ll own up to it.

Long time no post?

President Chavez will be assassinated some time early next year.

Good for the world, or just good for Venezuelans?

Discuss.

Coming Soon to ESPN…Maybe

With the winter approaching, it’s time to gather your tissues and clamber around the television for the headlining attraction in the sports world, competitive sneezing. I know some of you may have been paying attention to other more brutal and team-oriented sports, but you’ll find that competitive sneezing is far more entertaining than the fact that the 49ers just can’t seem to stop losing (it might have something to do with a high volume of turnovers). I myself have been on the pro-circuit of competitive sneezing now for six years, and while I’m certainly not the oldest or most talented in this often spurned arena of physical achievement, I was called upon by my fellow sneezers to do what I can and introduce you to this fascinating world that we have all come to love.

To begin with, competitive sneezing is not unlike many of the other, more well-known sports. We have fans, sponsors, rules, referees, and the much beloved instant replay. Every two years an international competition is held at a predetermined location, selected by a panel of judges, many of whom are retired champions of the sport, like Bob “The Hurricane” Simmons, and Shawna Jamison, who wowed audiences in ‘88 with a sneeze so devastating in force it undressed the first row of spectators.

At each of the nationals, contestants must compete in a series of events designed to challenge the form, creativity, and discipline of each sneezer. This is where sponsors are particularly important. There are companies like PneumaCorp., Gusty, and Double Barrel who work hard year-round perfecting concoctions that provide just the right chemistry to instigate a sneeze when one is needed. I myself am sponsored by a small but excellent and family-run company out of Wisconsin called the Feather Group who supply me with a product which is, though a secret of design, not vastly different from hairspray. Other competitors have been known to use various forms of pepper, and some are even wild individuals commonly referred to as “mace snorters;” these often achieve fantastic sneezes, though due to the volatility of their stimuli, many retire early due to chronic injuries or lung failure.

Here are some of the events:

1. “The Juicy-” This sneeze is often the most entertaining, and to perform well many contestants intentionally get themselves sick before the event. A head cold contracted four days before usually produces amazing results. From a sitting position, the contestants are judged on the “quality” sound, the amount of residue they expel, and in what fashion that residue is distributed on the playing field.

2. “The Suppressor-” Though sneezing is a way of life for many of us, we also understand that it’s frequently a faux pas in certain social situations. Using a sensor of electrodes to make sure that an actual sneeze is induced, contestants must restrain their sneeze in as dignified a fashion as possible. This event is always interesting to watch as sneezes are induced with a substance not selected by contests, so the type of sneeze can vary. Facial contortions are frequent and amusing.

3. “The Eliminator-” As an extension of “The Suppressor,” in recent years this event has emerged as the ultimate in demonstrating physical control. Using the same sensors, contestants must find a way to avoid sneezing altogether, and prevent the chain reaction from consuming their diaphragm.

4. “The Call-” Contestants must sneeze in such a fashion that the sonic expression must, while being a legitimate sneeze, mimic other sounds like bird calls or telephones. Women frequently win this event with their ability to capture the essence of small rodents. Maria Lopez from Mexico won the last “Call” with her uncanny imitation of a mouse.

5. “The Bohemian-” This is one of the most well-attended events. The rules are as follows: “Contestants are urged to sneeze creatively.” The fewer the guidelines the more the possibilities. Four years ago, in Beijing, a teammate of mine earned eight perfect 10’s for running across the platform and then executing a sneeze simultaneous to an explosive back-flip in the opposite direction he was running. His previous gymnastics experience helped with the back-flip, and he’d been working on syncopating the flip and the sneeze for over three years. Chinese correspondents had labeled the move “Spirit Fist” in less than 24 hours.

6. “The Big Bang-” Exactly what it sounds like. Microphones are set up to measure how load the sneeze gets. Watch Vladimir “Boom” Brozinzky this year. He’s got a new sponsor called “Nyet-choo!” that has developed a sneezing agent that includes fine vodka.

7. “The Shredder-” Using Kleenex approved tissues, contestants must focus the locus of their sneeze and attempt cut through as many tissues as they can. Many contestants try and auto-induce head colds for this event as well, as wet tissues are weaker than dry ones. The specialists in this event are sometimes referred to as the “napkin ninjas.” Some five foot two 12-year old shredded through 16 tissues at the Beijing tournament. He and his family purportedly have won a lifetime supply of Kleenex.

These comprise the main events of each tournament, though the sport is still growing and the International Sneeze Games Committee openly urges the development of new events to test the limits of the sport. I hope to see you all at the games, or hope that you can catch it on TV. Happy Thanksgiving and, *wink* God Bless you!

Watering Down Water

In the paper I receive, the left column on the sports page gives an account of the Cleveland Indians’ recent triumph over the New York Yankees. Four home runs from the Indians helped achieve a whopping 12 runs to the Yankees’ three. Somewhere, someone was screaming in a bar “Even GOD hates the Yankees!” Blah blah blah. The real interest I have in the article is with the picture posted at the top. I’d post the picture, but there are so many like them—why bother? I’ll give you the caption instead.

“Cleveland’s Asdrubal Cabrera points to the sky after scoring on his solo home run in the first inning of Thursday’s 12-3 win over the New York Yankees.”

“Points at the sky?” Perhaps the photographer is trying to convince us that Cabrera (whose name I had extraordinary difficulty typing) is taking time to point out his favorite constellation to the crowd since his grand slam gives him leisure time. If only he’d had a microphone inside his helmet, he could have told the crowd—”And there, in the direction I whacked that ball, is one of my personal favorites, Sagittarius. *sigh* What a beaut. I never get tired of looking at it.”

Okay. Probably not. The AP is just trying to find any explanation for Cabrera’s gesture that won’t invoke “the Man upstairs” (as He’s commonly referred to by the people who don’t know Him very well). But who cares? Even Barry BONDS has been known to point at the sky every now and then, though I can’t imagine why. I doubt he’s as familiar with the constellations as Cabrera. Maybe pointing in that fashion accentuates the nuances of his bicep for the crowd. Maybe he’s pointing at the path of the ball because he doesn’t want it to give some unobservant fan a concussion. The point is—the gig is up. But I will applaud the accidental humor of the AP for trying to rob meaning from an already meaningless gesture. I’m sure the Man Upstairs is laughing too.

Enabling people to cheat safely, but not making it easier.

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.