Sillybear Inc.

Setup on a date with God

2011-09-21T10:26:00.000-04:00

Social Media justifies my awkward social skills. I can make a "friend" with the same effort as not showing up somewhere. But these are all superficial for the most part. Just go ahead and ask one for help moving ... I'll wait.

Relations between people have levels. These levels are respected and are (mostly) understood by all. You don't show up at a co-worker's house and say "Hey! Can I come in and chat about the latest sporting event that just took place?" You don't pass your wife in the store and go 'sup' with a nod and walk on. There are levels of intimacy. How many? That's a game you play by yourself and the goal is to find as many as possible.

But social media has created a shotgun blast effect to make as many friends as possible, as fast as possible, as annoying as possible. There are times I'm helping someone in a game and I have no idea who they are. I accepted them as a "friend" but their profile pic is of their dog and I'm am totally not really invested to figure out who they are. So I just assume it's the dog itself I'm connected with - that's cooler.
(can a paw use a scroll wheel?)

Many people write about "these are worthless relationships" and "what's this doing to actual friendship making processes." I see them. You see them. I'm not linking them. We all agree. Sure, social media helps keep me updated in people's lives who I most likely would not see again, but that's not being a friend. That's being nosy ... and a tad stalky. But my point is the value of the relationship and the real awkwardness that can appear when you are thrusted into one.

Ok, I have an example. I moved to a new high school and on two different occasions I was approached by two females. Their mission was to find out who I was, where I came from and if I was dating anybody. The main girl (the point-girl) proceeded to tell me about a third girl and that if I would be willing to date her.
Let that sink in. This wasn't a blind date. It was a blind relationship. It didn't help matters that the point-girl was the cutest one of the entire operation. So I did what every socially awkward dork-male would do. Lie. Lie hard. Lie hard so bad. I was practically in a long distance betrothment by the time it was over.
There's more details but that's not the point of this post.

If we recognize the ridiculousness of mass producing friends, then why do Evangelical Christians try to "mass convert" people into a relationship with Christ? A great effort has been done to remove the false label of "religion" from Christianity to get it back down to its core - which is a relationship. However, we forgot about the effort factor. It's effortless to speak into a microphone to a group of 50,000 people about Christ in comparison to investing yourself into each one of the 50,000 people. If you had everyone of them over for dinner every day, you'd spend almost 14 years doing that before meeting again with the original person. And "Dude! I haven't seen you in 14 years! We need to do the meal thing again!" isn't what I call a vibrant friendship.

I don't think you can impersonally introduce a personal relationship to a person about a third-person. Well, I mean you *can* but it's called spamming. And yes, spamming is effective because their is a .001% of the global population that acts on spam and the overhead is so little to the spammer that they keep doing it. Do we spam our congregations? Do we spam tv/radio/internet/social audiences? Am I saying that it should stop?
Well, yeah. I mean, all the believers can meet and worship and learn more and encourage one another, but for those that don't believe in what you believe - you might have to actually talk to this person and form a deeper friendship with them. Sounds like a lot of effort. What if you spent the next 14 years being the friend of 1 person? What if that 1 person did believe after you invested your life, time, money, couch, truck bed, spare bed into their life? Would you tell that new believer "why did you have to make it so inefficient?"

Forget the masses and find the man.
Let me know how it went after 14 years.

The International Illustration Bible

2010-07-28T21:26:00.003-04:00

If you find yourself in a position trying to teach the Bible with people who don't have a lot of English ability, The IIV Bible could help! This is an ongoing project updated weekly. Site is really young and more details will follow.

Bible stories using no words.

It's not meant to be used by itself, but to help those telling the stories.

Who doesn't like cartoons?

The AntiChrist notion brings hope ... really!

2008-10-20T13:52:00.005-04:00

It seems that every American presidential election contains a little hoopla on the Right about the Leftist Candidate being groomed as the antichrist. I have no problem with that. In fact, Jesus says to keep an eye out for him. What I do have a problem with are those who decide to hole up with ammo and soup cans to ward off the Beast and his secret 666 code embeded in UPC labels. To me, those people are saying, "The Lord's return is coming soon! Quick! Let's try to prevent it!"

Let's get one thing straight. The Bible does "kind of" end with the God winning. I say "kind of" to understate. Jesus does state that there will be many antichrists and then there will be one huge one that will be the "Taker of Cake" of all the not-so-anti-as-as-the-AntiChrist.

If you think about it, only God the Father knows when the End is suppose to start. That actually is frustrating to Satan. Satan has a role to fill even with his rebellion and waywardness, he isn't omnipresent or even capable of time travel. Since God exists outside of time, He decided to share what the future was going to hold and it must have steamed the devil's beans to learn that he is pretty much going for a lava swan dive at the end. With that in mind, this devil has to have a candidate in mind in every generation for the AntiChrist role.
World War 2 seemed promising with Hitler and the Atom Bomb, but that didn't pan out. There seemed a lot of energy behind that one which left Satan really frustrated.

Since the Lord is only allowed to rebuke Satan (read Jude) it seems really funny to me that the Lord can just screw with his plans - which he does a lot. Please remember that God is in control no matter the politcal climate. If you don't believe me, read both books of Kings. It's in the Old Testament. You'll see a lot of bad kings that did a lot of bad things for more than 8 years. You'll also read about good kings and stuff, but remember one thing - God was there. He was near and He still is. The bad kings died, the good kings died. Captors came and captors captured the captors.

My advice is that you better HOPE the real AntiChrist is coming soon. If he is that means the REAL Christ is coming sooner. If not, then you are just stuck with tyrannt who can just make it really tough.

If you're pretrib - then it's all the better and you get to avoid the whole nastiness. If you're post-trib, Man up, Christian Soldier! Get out of your bunker, try to share the love of God and realize that if you did get shot in the head with a fire bolt from the naval of the Beast, you still get to go to heaven.

The Ministry Rate and The Awful Offering

2008-10-11T21:06:00.003-04:00

Hi there. I'm peeking my head it to share something that will get a lot of parishioners behind me and then I'll turn the tables and get a lot of clergy behind me. What could these topics be?

Well, let's take a look at "The Ministry Rate."

Ah yes. The Ministry Rate, or the project built by guilt. Here a person is approached by a Church or staff member or even maybe perhaps the leader of the congregants to ask for some sort of service or project. No problem there. The initiator then probably hints or indirectly asks or maybe asks or - heaven forbid - demands a lesser rate appealing to the charity of the individual, because the Church is strictly volunteer in everything and, because of it, needs a drastic rate cut down by either half or free or half of free ... maybe chip in a few bucks after the service is done.

There is a problem with this. First, don't get me wrong. If the skilled worker/artist/service provider wants to help, they are free to do so. It just gets weird when it is expected. Suddenly, the church becomes a freeloader with a cross for a shield and suddenly that person isn't seen around as much and dodging church staff in the hallways.

Let me paint a different picture:
Church: We would like some web work done.
Webgirl: Uh... ok... sure
Church: What's your rate?
Webgirl: Um... well...
Church: No, seriously, what if we were a small business?
Webgirl: Well, that would be around $X per hour
Church: Ok, how does $X * 1.7 sound?
Webgirl: BLAARGHGAARBLE!!

See what happened there? Because the Church was willing to offer more, they Webgirl will most likely be around the Church more because the Church is treating the Webgirl with respect and understanding that she forked over waaaaay too much money for a very competative field. Webgirl isn't hiding behind the fake trees in the fellowship hall anymore - she feels valued there.

Now hold on cuz I'm going to turn the tables here.

Ok congregation. Where do you get off handing over junk to the church? Seriously? If you have a lawn mower that leaks gas and oil and is on the verge of exploding in some sort of napalm blast, do NOT say "well, I'll just take it over to the church. I'm sure they can use it."

The Church is not your personal dumping ground. Your flea-infested couch does not need a new home in the youth room.

I went to a youth minister conference back in 95. The lead youth pastor there told a story that they asked for couches for the youth room and so they got couches. It was perfect for those teens to lounge.

Then the itching started. The youth started itching and soon those that ventured down that hallway itched too. Once the source was discovered, a huge bonfire was held in the church parking lot - a burnt offering of davenports.

Let me paint a picture for you:

Churchguy: I noticed that there was a need for office chairs for the church
Pastor (sitting on a preschool chair): Well, need and want are two different things
Churchguy: Our Sunday classes got together and we bought new office chairs for the staff. We went ahead and assembled them... Here they are...
Pastor: BLAAAARGHGARBLE!!

See what happened there? The pastor and the staff will feel respected and cherished by those they serve and perhaps, PERHAPS, others will notice that people actually value the church they go to or - at least - their god.

Creating Contrast

2008-08-30T13:43:00.005-04:00

My brother-in-law is beginning the social media part of his project. The first question is what's the first thing that comes to your mind when you here the phrase "Christian Art." I expanded the creepy part of my original comment here. When things become done for Christians by Christians, the original meaning or intended purpose becomes lost on the rest of the world and your point gets waaaaay off from what you intended. Let's take a gander at some interpretations of Jesus with alternate titles.

Child Bride Pedophile JesusLess said about this, the better.

Sorcerer Jesus

Harry Potter has nothin' on this guy

Bored Jesus

or "Frustrated Jesus," right in the middle of an eye roll after a disciple said
"Well, if Lazarus is sleeping, he'll get better!"

Snob JesusRemember in Return of the Jedi when that one dude says "You Rebel Scum!"
That's this face.

Really hating this time period JesusNo Running Water. No Internet. No Fooseball. No Happy.

Scary Phantom JesusIf I saw this in hovering over my bed, it would be time to move.
No calling "Ghost Hunters," just leave.

Thief JesusLookin' to score some quick coin.

Mirco-Manager JesusHere, Jesus and Paul Bettany (or Sting, circa 1984) race their ship around the tip of South America
to deliver their cargo before the others in the Fleet. Yar Har!

Stoned Jesuswass-thaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaap?

Psalm 23 - Freelancer | Consultant Version

2008-08-06T18:57:00.006-04:00

The Lord is my contact, I shall not go broke.

He makes me stand in the hub of activity.

He leads me beside reputable companies.

He restores my value proposition.

He guides me to the best assignments for His own reputation's sake.

Even though I walk through the valley of unemployment, I will fear no creditors.

Your Network and Your Referrals, they comfort me.

You land a gig before me in the pressence of my competitors.

You annoint my head with trade secrets; my skillset overflows.

Surely better projects and good references will follow me all the days of my freelancing career

and my name will be in the front of the Lord's rolodex forever.

****
Sorry for the loooong delay in posting. My employer was downsized by its corporate office which has left me to try my hand at consulting while looking for meaningful employment - it takes a lot of time.

Knock it off, worry-wart

2008-07-09T16:20:00.002-04:00

Worry. How do you combat it? Well, first of all you need to figure out what "worry" is. Worry the constant meditation on a situation that doesn't reach a solution.

In short, worry is praying to yourself.

Trying to be constantly aware of a situation and it's outcomes is very hard for a person who is not omniscient, omnipotent or omnipresent. When you try, you become omni-annoying.

Praying to yourself is praying to a being that has no control over a situation. When Jesus said "Do not worry" in Matthew 6, he isn't making a light statement.

"But God didn't come through last time!" Oh really? Well, let me ask you this: Did you even let Him? or did the Credit Card god get more attention? or were you placing your faith in something man-made first. First give praise to God for being God and then let him decide what he wants to show you in his time.

Creationism explained OUTSIDE of the Bible

2008-07-01T11:30:00.019-04:00

The debate of Creationism versus Evolution is a battle that will continue on and on and on. That’s just how it will be. It’s a proxy battle over the existence of God which in itself is a proxy battle over the issue of a sinful being in the hands of a holy God. But that’s not for today.

The problem with the Creationism debate is that it keeps referring to the Bible. “The Bible tells me so” will not hold any weight to someone who thinks the Bible is a bunch of hogwash as they show you a fossilized bone. It’s kind of like a footsweep to the argument.

I will tell you right now that it is not up to you to defend God. God defends himself every time, he just chooses the time to do it – that’s why he’s God. He is under no obligation to defend himself at every argument on old vs young Earth or to every pinhead that says “If there is a God then let him strike me down right now!” Nope. God just says “I’m not going to appear before you. You are going to appear before ME and my appointed time. Keep that in mind when you feel that all of Christendom rests on your shoulders as you argue with a grad student in a Dairy Queen.

So what do we do then about these debates?

Well, for starters, the debate is askew. The Evolutionist/Billion-year-whatever proponent is given the task to try to explain the world and universe according to its current set of rules and laws and boundaries. Fair enough. Outside of a scientist having some sort of personal grudge against the idea of God because he was forced as a kid to go to some hostile bitter church (yes, they do exist) he has to rely on the Scientific Method of observations (or he’s suppose to anyway) to gather and test data and form a theory. The scientist is then left a very valid right to say “based on our understanding, this is how it came to pass.”

Enter the Creationist.

Armed with the word of God, no matter what the world throws at him, he will not deter his stance upon the Rock. Despite “evidence,” despite “a-lotta-numbers,” he will not believe what the Evolutionist says. So we wind up with two groups that can’t actually reason their way out of a conundrum of a pickle.

So how is the debate askew? Well, the Evolutionist states that if there is a God, then he has to be bound by the physical, testable laws of the Universe. It doesn’t matter if He created it; he has to be bound by the rules. The Creationists will just refer to the Bible even though the Evolutionist rolls his eyes.

So outside of the Bible, I’m going to show how a creator can exist and created everything in six days. To do so, I’m going to use the following computer game: Sim City 2000

Now, Simcity 2000 is a fun little game to others except myself. I hate it. I have no control. I’m bound by the law of “budget” and can’t build enough police stations to keep my city safe. So, I cheat. As a side note, cheat codes in games started as ways for the programmers to test different parts of their games quickly before it was released. For Simcity 2000, I use something more powerful than a cheat code. I use a hex editor to eliminate the need for a "budget."

Cattle on a thousand hills, indeed

Ok, with my billions in hand I look out on the playing field...

Just a tad formless and full of void

This is something I had fun with as a kid. I put the game on pause and the entire timeline STOPS. I am not bound by the law of “game speed”

A thousand years are as a day to me now

Here’s the fun part. I get to shape the land to my desire:

I put water where I want and I also decide to install the elaborate underground water network:
I then lay out the zones of residential, industrial and commercial and put in parks, roads airports, stadiums, zoos and connect it all with electricity.Wow. Hardly a second has passed by...

Then when I have called it good. I then advance the timeline.

Suddenly, my creation springs to life. Things are being built, cars appear on the roads. People are doing stuff with my creation!Now let’s zoom in and take a look. Oh, I found a church! Reverend Sprite’s been there for 30 (game)years.

Guess who they’ll be worshiping?

Ok Ok. Let me tie it all together. See that little speck?

That’s the car of Mr. Evolutionist. Let’s call him Mr. Pixel. Mr. Pixel goes for a degree in science at the local college and studies “how did we get here?” Mr. Pixel is then on a quest to study his current environment. Based on what he found, he estimates according to the laws of “budget” and “game speed” it must have taken MILLIONS of years to get to this point, what with all the hills and valleys and trees and what-nots. Mr. Pixel becomes Dr. Pixel and goes on a speaking tour. Meanwhile, Reverend Sprite goes to one of Dr. Pixel’s lectures and … well, you see where I’m going.

In the game, I am God. I have unlimited power and unlimited resources. I create and destroy as I see fit. I can pause the game, I can speed it up. I can reload a previous version. I am God. If Dr. Pixel says “There’s no God! If there is, let him show himself to me right now!” I don’t really feel inclined to prove myself to him. He’s just a pixel. Should he provoke me, I can print him out, cut around him and put him on my finger and say “you were saying?”

FOOLISH PIXEL! I AM NOT BOUND
BY MY OWN CREATION, ITS LAWS OR EVEN YOUR WILL!

That’s what Creationism is. It’s the realizing that there is something larger than yourself, even the created universe and that Something has a message for you whether you choose to read it or not.

More Jerks from the Bible

2008-06-26T09:10:00.002-04:00

Continuing from my last post, here are people from the Bible that score high on the Jerk meter. In no particular order:

Alexander, the Metal Worker 2 Timothy 4:14

Not much is known about this guy except this verse. Paul warns Timothy to stay away from him because he caused a lot of harm to Paul. If I had to guess, Alex didn't appreciate all this talk about not worshiping idols which probably cut into his profit margin. Being a smithy, he probably had some large muscles and decided to use them. However, having Paul record your name for all of history to see as someone who might appear on God's "smite list" isn't worth increasing the profit margin.

King Balak Numbers 23-24

The Israelites are moving about and are starting to cause some panic in the countryside. Moabite King, Balak decides to take a spiritual route rather than a physical route with them seeing as the body count keeps rising. Balak hires the prophet Balaam to speak a curse over them. Even though Balaam says "Dude, I can only say what the LORD gives me to say," Balak responds in a "whatever, just do it" attitude and takes him to a high place to see the Israel camp.
Balaam gets a word from God and pronounces a blessing instead of a curse over the camp which makes Balak a little tight in undies.
Rather than listen to Balaam explanation on how this whole "prophet thing" works, Balak takes him to another place to try again. Since Balak is a contracted consultant, he again speaks over the camp and another blessing comes out. Balak, not knowing when to quit moves him to a third place and another blessing takes place. At this point, the gloves come off and Balak just wants Balaam to shut up, but Balaam says "Geez, now you did it! Here's two more ..." and more favoritism for Team Israel is announced. Balak would have had better odds if he attacked with an army. True, he would have lost, but he would have at least taken a few Israelites with him. The lesson here is "If you're going to play the game, learn the rules."

Korah, Dathan and Abiram Numbers 16

While traveling away from Egypt and wandering in the wilderness, the people get a little restless. Despite seeing physical manifestations of God's power and provision, people start getting a bit crabby (let this be a lesson to those who think they'd believe if they saw a miracle). Korah's family along with Dathan and Abiram were put in charge of carrying the furniture of the tabernacle. They were the strike crew stagehands. Instead of carrying amps and lighting rigs, they carried the altars, lampstand, tent posts, curtains and the freakin' ark of the covenant - not something to take lightly! Well, Korah gets some sand in his shoe and says to Moses, "Ok, you've gone to far, you took us from a pretty cool place to here. There is no cool place here. The people are holy, you're messed up in the head, man." Moses falls down and appeals to the Lord. Rather than get into a knife fight, he tells Korah to get Dathan and Abiram who quickly respond in a "whatever dude, we're playing playstation" manor and refuse to come. Moses lets God handle this one. Moses and Aaron and Korah's posse line up the next day and God says "Ok. Everyone take one big step backward away from Korah, Dathan and Abiram." I won't spoil it for you, but when God says "Back up." You back up.

2 Jerks from the Bible

2008-06-22T21:17:00.006-04:00

The Bible is pretty awesome. Between the weird ceremonial clothing washings and the thick book of praise songs are some really gritty narratives. Surprisingly, these stories feature the ugly side of some more prominent faith heroes. There are, however, certain individuals who are just jerks. Now, many characters do jerk-like things; like David stealing another dude's wife and then having him killed in battle - that's pretty low. But there are other characters that don't show any redeeming qualities to the character. I'm not judging these guys, the Scripture seems to just point it out as "don't be like this guy."

Here's some jerks in the Bible:

Achan (Joshua 7:1-26)

The Israelites were having a great campaign - kicking butt and giving glory to God. God gave a strict command to not hoard any treasure and everyone obeys - except Achan. Achan hides some loot before Josh and crew head to Ai. The battle between Israel and Ai was to be the North Carolina Vs. Johnson City Tech and Hairstyling Correspondence School Basketball game. A no-brainer shut out. What happened was that Israel got schooled. Defeated. Or as the net culture would say: PWND!1!
Achan admitted what he did only after the grueling process of filtering everyone else out. Achan became part of a gigantic stone pile for disobeying and putting all of Israel at risk and getting some good fighters killed.

Gehazi (2 Kings 5)

The servant of the mighty prophet, Elisha, Gehazi would have probably been on his toes to make sure he was doing things right. Well, no. In chaper 5, we see that Naaman, commander of the army of Aram, had leprosy. Elisha heals him of the leprosy and refuses any compensation. (Very non-jerk like). Naaman even insists to the point that we Americans take as a cue to accept it. Elisha then makes a pledge to God saying he won't take anything. As they part ways, Gehazi determines that they just lost out on some good coin and chases Naaman down. Gehazi takes advantage of Naaman's good graces and scores more than what he asked for through a lame story.
Elisha questions where Gehazi was and we find out that Gehazi is a really bad liar. He also isn't the sharpest knife in the drawer forgetting that Elisha is really close to an omnipresent God. In short, Gehazi gets leprosy and runs away. Poor dope.

So far, our jerk-ology deals with material wealth. We'll see what other themes there may be in the next post.

How to Pray for Better Protection

2008-06-20T10:54:00.008-04:00

We have at our disposal the Armor of God to wear for ourselves, though styles may vary. Though when we pray for others, we can pray for protection for them - for whatever reason, though it's usually when someone leaves on a mission trip.

The common Christian phrase is "praying for a hedge of protection" around them. A hedge? Seriously? Is that the best you can do?

"Here ya go! Be sure to keep low!"

If we are free to ask for God's protection, please give me something a little more compact

Complete with Machine-Gun-of-the-Spirit

What really gets me is when people give the Enemy too much credit. Yeah, you're not suppose to invoke a mano-y-mano type brawl, but don't short change what God can provide when the Enemy comes at your hedge with this ...

It's red too! Aigh!

Just remember that God won't place anything in front you that He doesn't think you can't handle with Him.

A New Children's Song

2008-06-17T08:40:00.006-04:00

I'm not the healthiest eater on the planet, but I do have my limits on what junk food I will eat. I won't sit and eat an entire bag of potato chips or snack every night, nor do I want to. But my habits have changed my chemical composition to respond to certain unhealthy stimuli. When those stimuli are removed, there is withdrawal - almost a detoxing effect - that I tend to solve by ingesting the 4 American Food Groups:

Caffeine, Sugar, Grease & Salt.

I had a headache yesterday that was cured from a McDonald's Coke and small fry - the simplest conglomeration of the above Junk Square.

On my way back home I realized that the kid's song that goes "Head, shoulders, knees and toes - knees and toes" has a rhythm that compliments the Junk Square.

I recommend singing this while vacationing:

Caff-eine Su-gar Grease and Salt, Grease and Salt Yeah!
Caff-eine Su-gar Grease and Salt, Grease and Salt YUM!
Caff-eine Su-gar Grease and Salt, Grease and Salt Bleah!
Caff-eine Su-gar Grease and Salt, Grease and Salt NO!

How to sleep in a non-sleeping enviroment

2008-06-11T14:06:00.000-04:00

Sometimes working long hours can bring fatigue during the day that would be handled easily with a little nap. However, your employer expects you to be awake. Not only are you expected to be awake; but showered, clothed and ready to do something profitable. But what about that fatigue?

Fortunately, you have 2 options. You can inflict harmful amounts of amino acids and sugars upon your heart with a variety of energy drinks, or you can get the rest you need while appearing awake. Impossible, you say? Well, nay-sayer, read on! How to be appear awake while not being awake at all. Credit is due to Calvin & Hobbes for this...

Here's what you need:

Two ping pong balls

Velcro

Sticky-Tack

1. Cut the ping-pong balls in half

Most Ping-Pong balls have logos on them, so that's why you need two.

"Ta-daaaa!"

2. Cut out two circles from a strip of velcro

Or you can make a Zorro mask for your pet hamster

3. Attach circles with sticky-tack

Now, that wasn't so bad, was it? But you need to test it out to make sure it looks convincing enough.

The First Test (Initial placement)

Hmmm. Looking kind of psychotic here. Needs readjusting...

The Second Test (Adjust the focusing of the eyes)

Perfect. It looks like I just pounded a 4-pack of Red Bull.

The Third Test (body positioning)

Excellent! I look like I'm really into the P & L auditing of a 10 year old spreadsheet!

Remember, your posture helps with the illusion.

Road Test

Here, I maybe getting an ingenius idea on how to market pig's fat as a diet food

Oops.

Remember. You may have to strap yourself into a chair to keep your posture in a more convincing "awake-looking" stance otherwise they may think you died.

To avoid the inevitable backlash or unemploymentness, it might serve you well just to go to bed early.

What Christian TV should be like

2008-06-06T09:19:00.005-04:00

I'll go ahead and say it right now. I am not a fan of Christian Media. I treat it like that one guy you know that hangs around you trying to impress you with his extensive knowledge of Monty Python quotes. Ugh. There I said it and I doubt I'm alone. In fact, I know a lot of people don't like it as well (unless you do the Dead Parrot Sketch, man that thing always KILLS.)

I started to really despise it when secular media started doing TV shows that Christians should have been doing first.

Extreme Home Makeover is the show that comes to mind. Granted, I haven't watched it for a long time if it's even on anymore, but that was something that seemed very selfless and giving - appearance is everything after all and it wants to make you cry.

Christians like to cry happily so it seems like a natural fit.

People may say "but there's Christians on the show," but how would I know that? I'd just assume that ABC grew a big heart and became a Mormon or something - a collective borg-voltron mormon. Wow, that's scary. My point is that ABC gets the "props" or at least that energetic guy with the wild hair and God remains left to wait until someone from the show writes an article about God working on the set in some obscure publication read by people who don't watch TV.

I'm not saying that Christians should get into TV, no we tried that and failed and still fail. Lots of fail. Would, you want some ideas?

Watch this clip and imagine that is was a Christian Group who did it and not a regular comedy troupe:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Nbkbss7i5s

I do a lot of watching of movie clips and imagine the setup is that the main character is a Christian and I'm watching a "Christian" movie.

Go ahead and try it with "Big Trouble in Little China," minus the cursing you can get some interesting inspiration for a movie script.

She'll be back ...

2008-06-03T14:24:00.002-04:00

The AP has just said they are calling the Democratic Candidate ... and it's not her.

I wouldn't get too excited because she'll be back.

8 Less-Obvious Plot Holes or Irritating things in Star Wars

2008-06-03T10:36:00.004-04:00

There's another Star Wars movie coming out, did you know? Me neither. I guess I have severed myself from many normal media outlets or this is suppose to slip under the radar as a movie that juuuuuuuuust made it out of a Direct-to-Video decision. I’d like to think that the public has had their fill of Star Wars. I know I have. There is a love/hate relationship that fans have with this series. We’ll watch them and cringe, or just watch certain scenes, or just remember when our childhood didn’t mind seeing campy dialog.

So much has been said already about what works and what doesn’t work about Star Wars, from Jar-Jar (aka The Abomination) to Wedge being proof that you don’t need help from the force or Jedi to survive through the original trilogy, but there are some other points that stick out to me that I haven’t seen people mention much. I need to get them off my chest so here they are:

8. “In my experience, there’s no such thing as luck” Obi Wan - Episode IV

Great philosophy Ben, but remember how Jar-Jar pretty saved everyone by being klutz? If you stand by your statement, then that mean that Jar-Jar was one of the greatest force-users of all.

7. “What I told you was true, from a certain point of view…” Obi Wan - Episode VI

Obi Wan basically covers his butt from telling half truths about something as significant as Luke’s paternal heritage. It’s not really a good representation of even a half truth: “Darth Vader killed your dad, even though Anakin wasn’t given the title until he first turned to the dark side.” Obi-Wan basically shuts Luke up by telling him “that’s life, suck it up – if you don’t kill your dad, we’re all dead and it will be your fault. Can you live with that guilt?”

6. “Only a Sith deals in absolutes!” Obi Wan - Episode III

Yes, a lot of my complaints deal with Obi Wan. It’s mostly because he’s suppose to be the sage and holder of truth that is more palpable than Yoda’s fortune cookie speak. Anyway … after Anakin states that if Obi Wan isn’t aligned with him, then they’re enemies. To which the above quote is stated. Obi-Wan lives in a world of compromise which would give him a place of honor at the table of Scottish nobles in Braveheart … you know, the ones that William Wallace systematically took out one at a time.

5. “You haven’t learned anything.” Obi Wan - Episode II or III, (I can’t remember nor do I care.)

Geez, what a mentor. Sounds like an absolute statement (see #6) to me. “So you’re saying I’m still as knowledgeable as that 8 year old kid you met on that sand planet that called lightsabers “laser swords?”

4. “Is the dark side stronger?” “NO! … no…” – Luke and Yoda - Episode V

What Luke asked as an innocent question was answered with panic and hysteria. Oh really? The dark side isn’t stronger? Ok then how can one Sith be able to blind the entire Jedi Council? Oh and Palpatine kills off several Jedi in 4 seconds that a 30 minute battle scene couldn’t do. Sure.

3. “You speak of the one who is to bring balance to the force and you think it is this boy?” Mace Windu -Episode I

Balance to the force? What the heck does that mean? An equal number of votes between dark and light sides of the force? So you’re saying that the dark side has a place? Yet you’re saying to stay away from the dark side? This is a weird belief system. If balance is meaning an equal number of Jedi to Sith, then at the end of Episode III the score is now brought down to two Jedi (Obi Wan and Yoda) and two Sith (Darth Vader and Palpatine). Balanced was achieved, prophecy fulfilled – why are you complaining?

2. “It seems she’s given up hope.” Some Robot Nurse - Episode III

Padme is dying on a slab from a broken heart, apparently. She’s given birth to twins but that was ok, she apparently is giving up on life knowing that her hubby killed a lot of things dead very quickly. Yet when we hear her final words she said “There’s still good in him.” Huh? Do you have hope or not? Could you stay alive and talk a little bit more about this?

1. The Jedi Council – Episode I, II & III

Lucas’ hatred of politicians is evident with the Senate wishy-washyness and easily corruptibleness and other “ness’s,” but the same thing is apparent with the Jedi Council as they basically refuse any type of request brought to them. This makes the Sith look like the only group that gets anything done. Let look at the scoreboard:

SITH

Manipulates the Trade Federation to force a vote of no-confidence of the current Chancellor
Created a secret Army and keeping it hidden by removing the planets record from the Jedi Library
Trained Sith arts to people that don’t really have to sign on as full-fledge members
Manipulate the Senate to give obtain martial law
Outsourced the Death Star … twice
Wiped out all but two Jedi

JEDI

Refuses to train people
Killed two Sith, but that was actually what the Sith wanted anyway

Being a Jedi seems to be a lot less appealing now. What’s more is that it’s really easy to turn to the Dark Side, to release your anger – like when laying down tile flooring. I would very much like to use force lightning if after I shout “This will never line up!!!” and Obi Wan jumps in and says “Only a Sith deals in absolutes!”

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!!!!!!!!!!!

What has been seen cannot be unseen

2008-05-29T15:02:00.004-04:00

Made because of this:
http://laughingsquid.com/los-simpson-creepy-live-action-spanish-version-of-the-simpsons/

Modern Armor of God 2

2008-05-28T13:48:00.007-04:00

I made this cuz I could. I could be taking liberties with the original Greek, though.

And a movie clip for all you animated gif haters.

Shamgar, the greatest Judge of Israel?

2008-05-27T14:23:00.003-04:00

Not much is known about Shamgar. He gets one verse in the Bible with little back-story, but one thing is known.

Don't mess with him.

The story of Shamgar comes after a huge epic of sneakery and stabby prose of my main man, Ehud. While the story of Ehud is gripping and capable of modern Hollywood interpretation (shh! Don't give them any ideas!), Ehud still only killed one guy. Yes, he could have killed more that King Eglon, but it's not recorded.

Shamgar is different.

Almost thrown in as a "deleted scene," in the hopefully-not-to-be-made-into-a-movie book of Judges. Shamgar is mentioned as a son of some other dude, (yeah okay), who struck down six hundred Philistines (oh yeah?) with an oxgoad. He too saved Israel. (wait, backup..)

An oxgoad is a wooden pole with a sharp point. An oxgoad could be as long as 10 feet. So, suddenly we see that Shamgar in a new light.

I think "The Message" translates this verse as "And then this guy grabbed a pole and went all "matrix" over those Philly guys. Man, you should have seen it."

Another aspect to the story is that it just ends. We're left to assume that Shamgar didn't give interviews. He simply saw what he needed to do, did it and then went back to work - presumably goading oxes. The others most likely kept their distance, fearing that the nice guy in the field will snap again or something.

He would serve well in a line of Biblical trading cards.

Modern Armor of God

2008-05-25T21:14:00.002-04:00

Rich Kid thrown in Jail

2008-05-05T16:43:00.003-04:00

This kid was thrown in jail for being a jerk. It looks like he got bailed out of his actions most of his life. This judge finally throws the book at him. The photos were to priceless so i made a comic strip out of them.

The Psalms: God's Mix Tape Part 2 ... Side B?

2008-05-05T14:44:00.001-04:00

Ok, I mentioned in my last blog that the Psalm express emotions even "hit-him-again" anger. Before you string me up for thinking that the Bible could NEVER portray images other than fluffy clouds and little bunnies giggling in the grass I offer Psalm 3:7

7 Arise, O LORD!
Deliver me, O my God!
Strike all my enemies on the jaw;
break the teeth of the wicked.

Nothing is more fun that for a guy to watch a movie where the enemy gets his "just desserts." People like to see the enemy take a fall and cheer on the hero. For those who think God doesn't have that side to him doesn't know how hardcore he really can be and should read that one part where he strikes down everyone with the words of his mouth... and yes, that's in the New Testament.

The Psalms: God's Mix Tape

2008-05-04T18:29:00.001-04:00

I used to make mix tapes for a few select people. Yes, I may date myself by saying that I made mix tapes and not burned CDs, but there's a common theme.

Expression.

The Psalms are God's mix tape for us to play on the journey. Luckily, this compilation doesn't include "Journey," but you get my point.

The Psalms are full of love, anger, woe-is-me, hit-him-again type tracks. King David - the shepherd king - wrote a lot of these and could play musical instruments and "git down and dance."

This means that David was the ancient equivalent of that automobile kid that could wail a guitar and became an eccentric leader - kind of like an Israelite Bruce "The Boss" Springsteen. It is of my opinion that "Selah" means "lyre solo." I think King David jammed on a wicked solo during a praise song that rocked and concluded "Thank You, Jerichooooo!" before smashing the instruments as a sacrifice to God.

Even though we lost the music of the Psalms, ("Doe of the Morning" must have been a huge hit), the lyrics survive. Luckily, the lyrics mean a lot more to a general populace than the Christian Music lyrics I listened to in the 90s.

I leave you with the lyrics of "More to Life" from Micheal Knott

"Sink the ship and save your hair
Thousands drown yet you're still breathing
From a lifeboat you won't share
Kick me out although there is room to spare
Death to your family it's still a joke to me
And when you finally reach the shore
You'll say there is something more"

uh ... who in the what now?

A letter to my 11-year-old self

2008-04-07T09:43:00.002-04:00

Hey Eric,

It's Eric - 31-year-old Eric. You're probably wondering why I'm writing you. Well, it's because Kansas is playing for the championship in basketball again 20 years later. It's been awhile since I've been in Lawrence, but I will tell you that it's a lot bigger now.

20 years doesn't seem to be that long ago, but you're in grade school right? Wow. You're probably wondering what your 31-year-old self is doing. Well, in an effort to not create some crazy vortex paradox or anything other word that has a scary "x" in it, I'll just say "you made it this far, dude!" Now, it might not seem fair, but I will say that your road will be a little curvy, but don't let it throw you.

20 years can pack a lot of changes. The game is tonight - yes, I'm writing you before it takes place so as not to create some sort of Back to the Future II alternate reality. So as you go about doing your 11-year-old stuff, remember to hug others often.

I'll see you in the mirror and photographs.

Later,

Eric

5 Things Non-Americans notice about Americans

2008-03-27T09:08:00.003-04:00

World views are interesting when they are different from your own. They make you think about things in a different light. Over the course of two years of hanging out with non-United-States-ians, I've seen their reactions to a few things that seem to be consistant.

1. Lawns.

Even in my own little townhouse, I am alotted a section of "lawn" where I am free to grow whatever I like - as long as its grass. The idea of having your own land and yet not doing anything with it seems very odd to the rest of the world. I have been told by two people groups, that any personal plot of dirt is readily converted into a vegetable garden, vineyard, olive grove, orchard and/or animal stall.

A vegetable plot is about as ambitious as the average american would attempt. The common folly of planting way too much of one plant usually leads to a panic of passing off the undersized extra produce to unsuspecting acquaintances. "Do you like tomatoes?" "Well, of course!" "GREAT! Please take this metric ton off my hands."
"Are those cherry tomatoes?" "No."

2. Car Accidents

Driving in America compared to driving overseas is like saying you're a decorated war hero because you were really good at Halo. Rules in other countries are just mere suggestions of what you could do to prevent death, but usually as long as you are all going the same way, Godspeed. Here, on an empty highway, with a little mist in the air, an American will still somehow manage to hit a pole and cause a tractor-trailer to jack-knife 4 miles away.

3. Supermarkets

An American Supermarket is something that only makes sense to a native born. We have trained ourselves to recognize the marketing and advertising tricks to understand what it is we're looking at. The box with the orange tiger does NOT mean that tiger meat is included. The crisco package with the chocolate chip cookie on it is not trying to be decieving. Butter IS in the store, though nothing is labeled as such ... just "Promise," "Blue Bonnet," "Smart Balance," Country Crock ... and even "I can't believe it's not butter" which is rather unhelpful.

4. Sugar

Americans are addicted to sugar. One actually has to look really hard and pay a little more to get something without sugar, corn syrup, or High Fructose Corn Syrup which should be called what it is: More Sugar. I have a sweet tooth (though filled with a porceline resin) and have taken the most dangerous sweets into my bloodstream. To date, there's only one dessert that made me question its safety - The O'Charley's Caramel Pie. Ow. That one stung a bit. Some Non-Americans look at frosting and go "why?" to which we reply with a muffled "what?" while cramming it into our gaping maw.

5. Americans don't speak English

Other cultures take great pains to speak English to move along to success in the world. Yet, when they come here, they are puzzled to learn that they can't understand a word of what we are saying. This is not their fault. It's ours.
"It is nice to meet you."
"Say there, you ain't from 'round here, is ya?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Whut. I says where you from?"
"I am from China."
"Tarnashun! That's a far piece of travellin' ya did there. Wanna take a seat?"
"Take it where?"

So if you see someone from another country and wish to approach them in conversation, please remember: They are the normal one

TAGline. You're it?

2008-03-19T15:24:00.008-04:00

Taglines are hard to come up with. Thousands of dollars are spent on them and usually the end result is "we paid how much?"

Well, Ford - our beloved firebomb maker of automobiles - has come up with a new one:

Ford. Drive One.

Three words. Three very expensive words. Well, maybe just two words. "Ford" should be free.
So next month there should be ads that will look like this ...

Getting pushy? Not really. At least it didn't say "buy one." Now, I have had some terrible Ford experiences. I did drive one, so even if this is something to add to a checklist of things to do, I'm clear. But let me get my little red pen out and see what happens...Ah, add a little 'c' in there and suddenly it ranks up there with Found On Road Dead. But for those who think they shouldn't be so direct, how about this...
There's always time for manners. Actually, this sounds more like desperation. Well, admitting failure is the first step to ... eh, it doesn't matter. Let's try another one...

Zing! There seems to be a rash of recalls which is not a pleasant thing even for a baby's toy. No matter the type of "recall," there's a sense that you are just one downshift away from being engulfed in a fireball. Ok, one last one ...Bitter? Nah, I just ... ok, I am. I'm not Unamerican for bashing Ford. I just would like not to die in a metal deathtrap of glass and oil. My forefathers fought for that right and I plan to make them proud.

Oranges Poranges - Back by popular request!

2008-03-18T14:47:00.000-04:00

The following is a true story. The office this took place in is a place of former employement where I worked with my wife. In no way could this happen where I am now for I would not have as much privacy to duplicate this without a pondering audience.

I bought an orange today. I rarely buy fruit, but in a moment of healthy thinking, I bought it with the intentions of eating it at work as a light snack. Upon my desired snack time, I retrieved my orange from the company refrigerator and became perplexed by a problem. How do I eat this orange without covering myself in orange juice? Eating the oranges in slices, with skin intact, would be the best bet. Fruit with wrappers want to help you. Looking for a knife in the office kitchen yielded no results and an orange peeler was out of the question. All I found was a plastic spoon. Innovation? Ready for a challenge to do something different, I marched back to my office with my orange and spoon-that-wants-to-be-a-knife.

Placing the orange on a half stack of Post-it® notes for easy cleanup, I began making an incision with the plastic spoon. My progress was very encouraging, although the spoon made more of a curved cut rather than the straight one that I required. To deal with this I just simply cut a circle about the size of a nickel and lifted up the skin.

Now I had an orange with a hole in it. No turning back now or I lose 68 cents and would have to explain to my wife where my orange went. Things like this she notices. My first circular cut turns out to be too narrow for my spoon so I elongate the cut into an oval, trying not to spill the juice that is squirting in abundance now. Wishing I had a grapefruit spoon, I remove the next portion with a little more effort but nothing to severe. Now my orange has a large oval hole. My Post-it® note base is stained but stable. I now have ample room for my spoon. But just what am I suppose to do now? I don't know. I once stuck a straw in an orange like they did in TV commercials (that doesn't work by the way) and had some success if I pre-mashed the inside of the orange. So, with this knowledge, I start to stab the innards of my orange repeatedly. Once enough pulp was loose, I fixed my mouth around it and tried to drink my orange. Knowing that my wife was away in her office and my boss was at the dentist, I figure I'm in the clear although this mash-slurp-repeat method is not very efficient.

Fearing that anyone will come by, I tear with my fingers at the orangy rind. I throw the spoon away, labeling it a traitor. As I make progress on one side, I decide to eat it like an apple. I'll be darned if there's one way to eat an orange! The juice starts coming in full force. Remembering my Tangerine staining incident from a month ago, I hunch over my trashcan frantically trying to eat my orange, deflect juice, and dislodge rind bits into the trashcan. I have become an animal.

Now that my hands were drenched in Vitamin C, it dawns on me that my phone could ring or that someone would come by. Could I answer my phone with my elbows? - were those footsteps? Without shame, I eat the last two slices as anyone else would in this world and walk to the restroom with hands outward, sticky sweet with orange pulp. I wash my hands with odd-fragranced berry hand soap and return berry soft to my orange aroma-ed office. Sitting at my desk I hear my wife come around and take some papers off the laser printer and then go back again. Safe. I look into my trashcan and see the mutilation that took place moments before. Unceremoniously, I cover the pieces with some discarded envelopes. I tear off the stained Post-it® note and begin my work anew.

I have snacked.

dub dub dub doooo

2008-03-16T16:49:00.002-04:00

myLot User Profile

Schpi-dor!

Fear Food

2007-12-05T22:21:00.001-05:00

Comfort food is essentially, something that makes you feel warm and snuggly. These types of food change from nation to nation. A Chinese friend of mine said that the chrysalis of a butterfly is very yummy.

They come in a can. urp.

After this statement, I began wondering, "what would an Asian 'Fear Factor' look like?"

------
For your next challenge you must eat an entire bowl of ... cheese cubes!
"NOOOOOO!!!!!"

I learned that cheese is abhored by many Asians. Some can eat, others avoid it. At first I thought that was ridiculous, but then I started thinking about what cheese was and that is something I regret.
Bovine mammary secretions, sun-brewed with bacteria to produce a lumpy, smelly and tasty treat.

Still, since I grew up in America, I know the truth that cheese really comes out of factories ... just like beef.

Moving Back

2007-11-08T10:16:00.000-05:00

After spending sometime out and about in other services, Sillybear Inc. is moving back to Home Sweet Home on blogger. Heck, Google already indexed this place so why not make the best of it?
Don't mess with the Google. It would be of the "not fun." So stay tuned for more articles n' somejunk.

Movin' out!

2006-08-16T11:28:00.000-04:00

Yup, I'm moving to http://sillybearinc.googlepages.com. Since I treated this blog more like a website, I thought it fitting to actually become a website. Seemed like a good idea...

So, I'll see you over at the new place!

Much Love,

Sillybear

Fun with Anagrams

2006-07-20T16:47:00.000-04:00

Remember kids ... if you are not in Bible Study
it results Bibles Dusty!

Ha! Ha! Get it?

It's subtle...

Anyways, I don't usually do this, but here is a link to some Anagram fun:
Discover the hidden meanings of words and phrases!
http://www.mbhs.edu/~bconnell/cgi-bin/anagram.cgi

Bring the Noise - a commentary

2006-07-14T13:14:00.000-04:00

In an effort to understand the meaning to certain rap songs, I forwarded the lyrics to Public Enemy’s song “Bring the Noise” made in conjunction with Anthrax (the rock group, not the disease) to Prof. Pemberton B. Joyce at Hoople North Dakota University at Hoople. The following is his response to my request for him to interpret the meaning behind the lyrics.

-----------------------------Begin Forwarded Message------------------------
Dear Eric,
It was wonderful to hear from you. Sarah is doing fine as we are headed to Egypt in another week for some seminars. I have your lyrics here with my comments in italics. If necessary, I can do a further exhaustive analysis, but for now I have included my comments next to the original text.

Give my best to Carrie,

Prof. PBJ

Bass! How low can you go? A reference to deep sea fishing for sea bass
Death row what a brother knows A possible reference to “The Brothers Karamazov”
Once again, back is the incredible,
The rhyme animal,
The incredible D. Public Enemy number one Obviously referring to Dillenger, whose poetry was respectable.
Five-O said "Freeze!" and I got numb A reference to the abnormally cold season in Hawaii 1972.
Can't I tell 'em that I really never had a gun? A commentary on public records keeping gun licenses
But it's the wax that the Terminator X spun Quite possibly a reference to rare insect related to the bee
Now they got me in a cell 'cause my records they sell Note the author’s disdain for office cubicles!
'Cause a brother like me said "Well, Farrakhan's a prophet and I think you ought to listen to Most likely meant “Farakanuh”
What he can say to you, what you ought to do" Farakanuh was a Saracen prophet in 3200BC
Follow for now, power to the people say, Farakanuh spoke against the reign of Kadesh-Bullah
Make a miracle. D, pump the lyrical The author really sees a connection with Dillenger’s writings
Black is back, all in, we're gonna win Referring to the amazing comeback of the Tillans-Todd 1965 chess match
Check it out, yeah y'all, c’mon, here we go again

Chorus: Turn it up! Bring the noise! Turning up the volume can help determine the “noise” still being allowed from a misadjusted frequency. Once the noise is identified, it can be eliminated and the volume can be readjusted to a more comfortable level. Obviously, the author is very careful to make sure his reception is clear.

Never badder than bad 'cause the brother is madder than mad Referring to the Roman Emperor Caligula
At the fact that's corrupt as a senator Even after the murder of Caligula, Rome still had problems in the Senate
Soul on a roll, but you treat it like soap on a rope Author’s comment on a soul being free whether clean or not
'Cause the beats in the lines are so dope Referring to the large drug bust on seven Iowa farms in 1975
Listen for lessons I'm saying inside music that the critics are blasting me for The author is stressing the point to listen to these messages
They'll never care for the brothers and sisters now across the country has us up for the war The critics, he claims, show no support for our troops.
We got to demonstrate, come on now, they're gonna have to wait till we get it right The author’s eagerness to perform is tempered by his strive for perfection.
Radio Stations I question their blackness Many pirate radio stations were “blacked-out” by the FCC in the 50’s
They call themselves black, but we'll see if they play this there is strong evidence that some still exist and the author is “calling them out.”

Chorus

Get from in front of me, the crowd runs to me Referring to working the day after Christmas at a “Returns” line.
My deejay is warm, he's X, I call him Norm, ya know Norm expired, but not too long ago to still be “warm”
He can cut a record from side to side Norm was talented for holding a lawn mowing record
So what, the ride, the glide should be much safer than a suicide Norm apparently committed suicide
Soul control, beat is the father of your rock'n'roll Chuck Barry (father of Rock n’ roll) is named as a cult leader
Music for whatcha, for whichin', you call a band, man
Makin' a music, abuse it, but you can't do it, ya know Chuck Barry should leave well enough alone
You call 'em demos, but we ride limos, too Luxury features are available in more cars than the companies let on
Whatcha gonna do? Rap is not afraid of you A veiled threat
Beat is for Sonny Bono, beat is for Yoko Ono The author is against vegetarianism
Run DMC first said a deejay could be a band Douglas Macarthur made no such claim; there is no need to run
Stand on its feet, get you out your seat The author is directing people to the nearest exit
Beat is for Eric B, and L.L. as well, hell The author wishes a very bad eternity for these two unidentified people
Wax is for Anthrax, still it can rock bells The author claims that wax can treat cattle diseases very effectively
Ever forever, universal, it will sell The author is planning to distribute it with success
Time for me to exit, Terminator X-it

Chorus

From coast to coast, so you stop being like a comatose No one likes the effect of jetlag, our author agrees
Stand, my man? The beat's the same with a boast dose Boltace is a strong drug to fight against jetlag
Rock with some pizzazz, it will last why you ask? Referring to the Trans-Siberian Orchestra using guitars
Roll with the rock stars, still never get accepted as There still exists a great line between Rock and Country
We got to plead the fifth, we can investigate A controversial judicial tactic to buy time
Don't need to wait, get the record straight The author is very passionate about justice
Hey, posse's in effect, got the Flavor Terminator A promotional Slurpee flavor when Terminator 2 came out
X to sign checks, play to get paid A commentary on the number of illiterate football players
We got to check it out down on the avenue Referring to wanting to research this more at the library downtown
A magazine or two is dissing me and dissing you Apparently many of the library’s periodicals skirt the issue

Yeah, I'm telling you

Grade School Soccer or "Me and My Left Foot"

2006-07-06T11:22:00.000-04:00

Last week, I wrote about Sports and how I’ve come to view it as an anomaly. With the World Cup thing in the news, I’d like to share my first and last sport team thing I did.

Grade School Soccer. Kansas in the mid to late 80s did a lot with soccer. It seemed like a lot to me at the time since we had to drive 20 minutes on dirt roads to get to what seemed to be just-above-flood-plain soccer fields. There were several fields, with hundreds of kids I have never seen before nor would ever see again. Complete with shin guards and the blue/red reversible rayon-like shirt, I was placed in a position that was best for a pudgy left-footed slacker like me.

Right Full Back.

The Full Back’s job was to defend the goalie which meant for me to kick the ball as hard as I could with my left foot to one of our more athletic teammates, hopefully a forward, but most likely a half-back with thick glasses. I liked my position. It gave me a feeling of defending a castle, but not being too committed because full backs weren’t allowed to cross the mid-field line. This was a comfort to keep my wobbling belly out of the fray where it was thickest. I played two years with two different teams (that I can remember) and my very first team was called, stupidly, “Avalanche.” I protested this, but my rank on the team didn’t allow for any cool and calm discussion. Every other team usually had a name that went “The Hornets” or “The Pirates,” that way one could proudly state “I’m a hornet/pirate.” But with Avalanche, you’re left with this esoteric feeling of it just being. I’m sure that wasn’t what my quick witted teammates intended, but since our forwards were pretty strong, it didn’t matter. It also meant that I didn’t see the ball much, which did matter – in the sense that I didn’t want anything to do with it. Anytime the ball broke through the hapless half-back defense, it was up to Yours Truly to do my duty which was to 1.) panic and 2.) shuffle myself up to the ne’er-to-do-well and time my steps so that my left foot would kick the ball a.) into the kid’s top part of his foot or b.) up the field where no one was located or 3.) chase helplessly the kid with the ball who decided to run diagonally away from me therefore creating a mathematical/geometrical proof that would keep me from catching him.

Math is stupid.

My first soccer experience was done with an average record of something-something which impressed no one in particular, let alone ourselves. Because of my “neither here nor there” experience, I didn’t fight being signed up again for next year with a completely different team. This team, however, was horrible. This team made the coach cry. This team hated practice in unison and expressed it vocally. I was non-vocal, but it was apparent that my sweaty corpulence would much rather be watching Tiny Toons. But don’t let the unity of not wanting to run around orange cones lead you to believe that we were tight. No. These kids were annoying. If they thought I was annoying in return, so be it. But I can’t forgive these kids that officially named our team “The Flowers.” No, I kid you not, we we’re called “The Flowers.” Now if that doesn’t invite a beating from the kids in the other district, I’m not sure what would. Suddenly, Avalanche seemed clever and witty. The brainiacs behind this name stuck by it because they wanted the chance to circle around with hands in the center and go “FLOWER … POWEEER!!” in front of our soon-to-be victors. This is something that the current young internet community would label “teh ghey” or as the opposing team called it “are you serious?”

My cousin played for a very successful team called “The Bulldogs” that had an impressive record. While he could be a Bulldog, I had to be a Flower. Not cool, man. Not cool. I never saw my cousin on the field of combat and it is just as well. In pairing up a Bulldog to a Flower, the odds are hardly matched. Nevertheless, The Bulldogs went on to win trophies while the Flowers were left to reconsider the powerlessness of their unified hands-in-circle shout thing.

I remember enjoying soccer, even outside of eating orange slices between halves. My position didn’t ask too much, nor did it leave me idle, but I never considered playing seriously due to the extreme amount of running they do. Why the field has to span the length of a small town, I’m not too sure. Since I was left with a pair of shin guards that were not going to be used, I donned them on my forearms and pretended to be a robot superhero.

Hey, you can only as so much from a grade schooler.

No, I'm not ready for some football

2006-06-29T16:24:00.000-04:00

I’m not much on sports. It wasn’t until college that I figured out what “RBI” meant. “Roast Beef International” didn’t seem to fit and now I’m glad I was corrected. Still “Runners Batted In” is kind of nebulous to me in the realm of statistics. I mean, I don’t know how it applies and I don’t want to know. Even if you told me, I’d still feel like I missed something, as in “to be in sports you must start early” – kind of like when you transfer to a new high school in 11th grade and you graduate with strangers.

Oh wait I did that too. Now you know why it’s hard for me to like sports…. kind of…

Football is just as bad. I remember watching a game that was in a place where cartoons should have been. It showed a bunch of guys standing around. When there was action, it didn’t last for long. Some guy knocked the other guy down with the ball. “Don’t do it! He’s just going to knock you down again!” is what I thought. My wife explained football to me. It seems like a lot of effort.

Tennis. A tennis match can last for weeks summed up in grunts, applause and tight shorts. The less said about this, the better…

Hockey seems like fun, but I can’t get past the ice skating thing. It just doesn’t seem like people should move on ice with sharp metal on their feet. But that’s just me.

Basketball is a sport that I like to watch at a minimum. That should say a lot. But don’t watch a game by saying “I think I’ll pay attention to how much the shoes squeak” because it’s hard to get away from it.

Golf. I’m sorry – I almost fell asleep after typing that word. Moving on…

In short, I wasn’t born with the sports brain implant that a lot of guys get at birth. And I’m okay with that. I use to joke that when you are watching the Super Bowl, I’m out with your girlfriend. That was so not the case. Chances are I was asleep somewhere. But don’t feel bad for me, I was probably watching golf.

YAWN

2006-06-24T11:12:00.000-04:00

Sleep. Sleep is probably one of the greatest inventions ever. The ability to just collapse and snore with great gusto and relax into the realm of REM is most enjoyable - except for the spouse who is still awake and has to endure your arrival in Grinding Hippo Bones-land.

The miracle of sleep is lost on many. Insomniacs, as they are known, have trouble getting to the blissful state of sounding like a chainsaw cutting through chilled pig fat down a cement well. It must be terrible for them not knowing how easily sound like an elephant caught in giant rubber muzzle while being poked with pontoon boats.

It's important to always get the right amount of hours of rest. Some require 8, some 10, others 6 - but if you require 12, I suggest you start on caffiene. The amount of sleep I need depends, not on the quantity, but on when I start or stop. If I go to sleep at 11, I can get up at 4am and be fine (though I don't want to try that, let's keep that in theory)

As for snoring, there is a simple cure - go to sleep before your mate. Do you what you can to beat the person that sounds like a yak giving birth to bagpipes in a sheet metal factory.

You'll be glad you did.

Non-update Update

2006-06-16T06:45:00.000-04:00

Hi Ho!

This update is to tell ya'll that there is no update this week. Again? Yes. The fact is, I'm doing a little thing called Ichthus in Wilmore, KY workin' a booth makin' overtime.

Oh yeah.

So, my rambling bamblings are on hold as I sweat in the dusty heat.

I'll be back soon enough...

Meanwhile, drop a line here and let me know what you are up to!

Later,

e.

I'll get that ... and that .... and ... hold on...

2006-06-09T17:25:00.000-04:00

I try to be chivalrous. I really do. It’s just that this world of convenience is starting to make it a little harder. Despite any equal rights activists trying to beat me up for wanting to open a door for a female, I already have problems with the general design of entrances.

I’m talking about Breezeways. If you have never heard of the term, you are now enlightened to know that the Breezeway is the area that is almost inside a building. I mean, it is inside the building but it really isn’t your final destination. It’s a limbo of glass and tile and though may look pleasant, people try to get in and out of there as fast as possible except for the poor dope that’s waiting for a ride – he’s stuck in limbo. He’s done with the building yet has no where to go outside and yet waits for his savior in a Ford Taurus who will announce boldly, “dude, sorry I’m late - I got caught up in traffic.”

The Breezeway serves a funnction of being a barrier between the delicate store architecture, design and merchandise and the harsh reality of uncontrollable weather that, when colliding pressure systems send forth wind, a unwelcomed leaf or gala of rain drops come oh so near to the pile of striped sweaters on display. The Breezeway is a corporate “mudroom” that apparently some houses have. I’m in an apartment so what do I know?

Despite the advantages of Breezeways, including sounding like a race horse name, there came a social change that creeped in without us being aware of it - and that is doors. Breezeways contain many doors. Like the locks in the Panama Cannel, you go through door after door until you reach into the inner sanctum of your Macy’s or Wendy’s. This poses a problem for those of us who still want to be chivalrous and open the door for our wives, girlfriends, interests and stalk-ees. Which frickin’ door do you open?
Common Sense would say the first door and when you succeed, the beautiful creature is accosted by another door in her path.

This calls for wisdom.

Do you….

a.) Let her get the door herself?

If you do, you pretty much are hoping that your effort wasn’t cancelled out. Maybe females understand this and credit your initial door opening anyway. It’s risky to ask.

b.) Open every door?

Here you open the door, let her walk in and then quickly squeeze around her and then go and prop open the next door. Repeat until she is fully inside the building. One can use furniture and items not bolted down to aid in clearing a straight path for her to enter. However, this will create a wind tunnel effect and, unless she hurries, a tornado will ensue devistating her, her hair and the patrons inside including any merchandise.

c.) Never open a door for someone

Very common nowadays, but this solves nothing for chivalry-minded males

d.) Never go out again.

This is the most reasonable course of action. Avoiding all female contact removes the issue entirely. I suggest moving North and into less populated areas – maybe the Northwest Territory. Chivalry is becoming too dangerous.

Wide Load

2006-06-02T09:24:00.000-04:00

I noticed an ugly trend and I’m not sure where it’s going to stop. TVs have gotten WAY of out of hand with this width thing. I just saw that 60 inch TVs are now out. 60 inches? Whatever for? Is there a reason to see if Paula Abdul has a hangnail? What purpose is there for such a feature?

If it’s a flat panel, I’m assuming its in rebellion to seeing those large mirrors you saw hanging on the wall at Grandma’s house. The fact that mirrors exist in that size outside of a bathroom still gets the same question from me. Whatever for?
If you say “It makes the room look larger” then I’m afraid for our country in thinking that we can easily be duped by such an ancient technology much like a bird to a patio door.

“Look! There’s a portal to another room! It looks so familiar yet … Hey! That guy looks like me!”

But I digress. Plasma TVs can be hung on a wall like a picture, so instead of a tasteful painting of a lighthouse, you can have William Shatner in a wetsuit or Paris Hilton’s head smirk at a painting of a lighthouse. What I don’t get is why you want such a high resolution to witness such things. Grainy black and white added more to the imagination and if you really want to argue the point of “it’s just like being there” let me remind you of the William Shatner image up above.

Sometimes it’s best to leave things the way they are. And if you don’t believe me, just ask your clone you saw in Grandma’s Magic Portal.

XBOX 360 - It's Heavy

2006-05-26T10:07:00.000-04:00

I purchased an Xbox 360 for my company the other day. And before you say “Dude, are you hiring?” I want to clarify that we are giving it away at a music festival. So no, we don’t sit around and play games all day. Or at least we’re not suppose to as there may be a few people “taking a break” as it were.

The Xbox 360 is a something that I’ll never own. And that’s fine. Primarily, I hardly have time to do responsible things let alone stare at a TV for hours on end doing something that really matters little in the grand scheme of things – or to my wife.

Technology is heavy. I had a ColecoVision with an Atari adapter and realized that the combined weight of those with an NES is only a fraction to what the Xbox 360 weighs.

The thing is a frickin’ piece of lead.

It comes in a box about as big as a box of laser checks and costs about as much as my first car did. I can’t fathom buying this for a kid younger than 14. If you do, the kid better treat it like a shrine because kids shouldn’t be entrusted to heavy technical things. Let me change that. “Kids shouldn’t be entrusted with anything over $100.”

You could also say, if you can carry this Xbox home you can play it. But then you run the risk of the kid dropping it and your $400 machine becomes a very heavy blinking box.

To sum up: Learn to fly kites. They’re light, cheap and gets you into the fresh air. Goodness knows kids can learn that the bright irritating sphere in the sky is called “The Sun.”

No Update

2006-05-19T17:41:00.000-04:00

This is an update to tell you that there is no update this week. None. Don't even think about. I happen to be sick. So sick that I can't even type or look at a computer ... like this one. Yep, nothing I can do about it - some kind of bug that the doctor said is going around in bagged salad. I didn't have any bagged salad so I'm not sure what to make of that. So while you wait for my fever to break, I encourage you to check out the many other fine articles on this site.

So, to sum up. No update at all. Nada.

Stay away from bagged salad for the next few weeks just to be safe.

Read the Ingredients

2006-05-11T23:31:00.000-04:00

Why do we eat chemicals? I don't ask that in a judgmental way, I'm just curious. It is odd to me that we'll abstain from totally natural foods like sushi, raw egg, or steak tar tar and totally give into preservative laden processed cheese food in pasta-based pasta shaped pasta that can be warm and gloppy in 30 seconds.

I guess that's America. We stand behind the FDA and the USDA to take care of us to the point that if we attempt to leave the country, we need a series of injections in order to stay healthy. The main goal of any foreign travel is: Try to stay out of a foreign hospital.

Why? Sanitation? No, because your PPO won't cover it.

It's best to avoid any sickness. Just say no. Sure, you may be tempted with a strain of flu, but trust me, you don't want it. I use to say "If you can't pronounce it, don't eat it" - and that's why I don't eat General Tso's chicken. Tsoa? Tusao?

See??

Teremonotryglutenate may make a creamer Twinkie filling, but is it really worth it? Tetradexohymate may make my windows shine, but should I put it on a ham sandwich? Probably not. But if I was to find out that Tuna sashimi takes oil out of silk, would I still hesitate to eat it?

Probably not. But I wouldn't do it overseas.

Read the Directions

2006-05-03T17:11:00.000-04:00

Once upon a time, long ago, I worked for a man that I really wanted to respect. The problem was that he kept making bone-headed decisions. First, I want to say that the decisions were boneheaded. I’m not here to make judgment calls on character. I'm here to be sorta funny. Yes, it’s a thin line between saying “You’re a buffoon” and “You’re acting like a buffoon,” but you have to admit that the defense is pretty thick in technicality … no matter the level of buffoonery.

Anyways, I wanted to bring an event to mind that will serve the general public:

“Read the directions.”

When you buy Rain-X or some other windshield film polish-type-stuff, apply it to your windshield. Do not pour it into your washer fluid container.

Did this actually happen? Probably to someone out there. Did it happen to the man who did boneheaded things? Maybe, but the exchange went like this:

Setting: Two men traveling to a trade show in a van. It’s raining. It is roughly 2 hours before the younger man realizes he is going to watch the older man buy socks.

Older Man: Man, it’s really coming down. You can hardly see
Younger Man: Yeah, I keep thinking about getting some Rain-X for my car
Older Man: Ugh! That stuff is terrible. It gummed up my hoses and I had to get the unit replaced
Younger Man: (Silently processes this statement for years to come)

The lesson here is:

Read the directions and keep sock buying a private matter – otherwise your future decisions will be considered boneheaded.

Read the Fine Print

2006-04-25T10:53:00.000-04:00

Everyone gets them from time to time. They come in almost everyday looking either plain or interesting and usually they come in multiple groups. No, I’m not talking about rashes, I’m talking about credit card offers.
A standard credit card offer comes with a lot of paper. One could probably fuel a wood-burning stove well into the dead of winter with enough of these babies. They either come with additional offers, fake looking checks, some sort of gift idea that you really want to give anyone even yourself, or some promise of a reward point for being an idiot. In any case, what you have is a letter that means one thing and says another.
In every letter, they have text that tries to make you feel good like you did something right just because you exist. “And you deserve it!” Well, hey thanks! That’s awfully nice! There’s a lot of nice people in Wilmington, DE. Or is there?
Of course there is a lot of info about credit cards, how bad they are, how they suck you in and you can’t get out … blah blah blah. You don’t even really have to get into that. Just look at the letter. If you take out all the inserts and the additional pamphlet of words in a font the size of a grain of salt, you are left with a strange letter that seems ominous.
One letter stated that I should really get a new deck for my home to entertain people during the summer. Of course, they don’t really know me because it says plainly on the address that I live in an apartment. If I set out to build a deck on the second floor, it wouldn’t take long to see that the endeavor would be fraught with peril. Along with their suggestions of illegal modification to my apartment, they offer rates and dates and great other things all accompanied by strange little symbols. The symbols refer to footnotes at the end of the letter in the similar grain small font that negate everything promised in the letter. To illustrate, I will write a letter using similar tactics. Behold a letter to a long lost imaginary friend:

Hey Topo,

It’s been a long time and I just wanted to catch up.† I’ve been doing well at my job at the financial company. Yeah, I’m still there! It’s a good job.†† I’ve moved out of the apartment and am now a homeowner. Never thought it would happen!§ Last I heard you were still up doing some freelance with that ad agency. Still doing that?1 We should keep in touch more often. My email address is onebadgopher@yahooey.com ‡ Don’t be a stranger!†

Later,

Bubba

† - I feel guilty about not keeping in touch, so I’m doing this out of purely selfish reasons
†† - My 500lb coworker constantly reeks of bad fish
§ - I’m in over my head
1 – You squeaked by in college and you make more than me doncha? Can you spare some?
‡ – I’m not giving you my main email address

As you can see, there’s a lot hidden in the fine print. Rather than a quick letter of an attempt to rekindle an old friendship, you have the pathetic cry of a broken man wondering how he can escape. Credit Card letters are the same except that the person sending it to you is the 500lb fish-eater with the interesting rash.

My Special Talent

2006-04-21T08:21:00.000-04:00

I’ve always believed that everyone has a special talent. We go through life and we may or may not ever discover it. The average bookkeeper may be really good at the banjo but never be near one.
To be talented at something doesn’t always mean it is something that you enjoy. Just because you can belch pi to the 34th decimal place doesn’t mean you should do it nor try to build a career out of it. If you did, someone would be able to belch out the golden ratio and you’d be looking for work at local church chili feeds.
All that I’m saying is that you should never give up looking for that one special thing. Sure, it might be disappointing, but at least you know the Truth.

Me? Well, I’m not too aware of my special talent, but something bizarre has been happening the past couple years. At the local Japanese Restaurant I’ve noticed that I can catch things in my mouth. Whenever the chef throws zucchini or shrimp bits, I seem to land them perfectly.

This is a surprise to me since I’m an very uncoordinated and bump into things a lot, but it is nonetheless interesting to me. The last thing I want to do is test it further for if I am really good at it, I’ll be harnessed by NASA to help with dangerous meteorites entering Earth or something. Rather than weave a special techno-space net, some guy name “Chad” will suggest: “Hey, I saw this guy on Leno last night that can catch things with his mouth, let’s use him!” And so they would shoot me off into orbit without a facemask and as I would careen with a meteor, the last words I hear over my headset would be “Okay, open wide!”

On second thought, keep your special talents to yourself. You might live longer.

Hollow Chocolate Easter lesson

2006-04-13T13:53:00.000-04:00

Easter is upon us. For those of you who don’t know, Easter is the holiday that is more theologically significant yet not as materialistically celebrated as Christmas. Nevertheless there are things to buy, though most of it has to deal with bunnies laying eggs or something like that. Whether your pagan, Jewish, Christian or a guy named Hubert, we call all agree on one thing. Chocolate Easter Bunnies should be solid.

I remember seeing my first chocolate Easter bunny. It was in its own box which meant that it was super secret special and not to be associated with the other festive candy such as pastel jelly beans, chocolate coins or those weird goopy yolk egg things.

My little 5-year-old brain proceeded to deduce that the box was there to protect the enormous quantity of chocolate hidden within its bunny structure. It smiled through the plastic film in a “boy, you can’t wait can you!” but I did. I waited until the last moment. It would be the grand finale of Easter munching.

Unlike Halloween, you are given a predetermined amount of candy in various sizes and forms. If one takes an accurate accounting of the spoil, the ratio of good candy to bad is directly proportional to the number of houses you visit. Halloween is quantity over quality essentially whereas Easter could possibly win out on quality, but there is one hindering factor to Easter candy.

3rd Party Chocolate Vendors

Who are these guys? They seem to show up around this time with the cheapest chocolate around. It’s as if the guys from Hershey and Mars said – “Hey, let the B squad go after this holiday” and sure enough you wind up with odd tasting chocolate from Mexico or Uganda wrapped in lead foil depicting a bunny in short pants carrying a basket of eggs from unknown origins. The outcry was enormous to the point that Big Chocolate re-entered the ring and are clawing their way back by changing their colors to a more pastel-y rendition.

That’s fine, but that doesn’t explain the chocolate bunny. As mentioned before, this was a preciously protected crescendo of chocolate. One removed from the container I went forcefully for the ears with a carefully calculated force to bite through a full inch of chocolate only to have my teeth meet together in head jarring smash as bits of exploded bunny ear shrapnel ricocheted off of my face, basket, TV and probably my brother’s head. The darn thing was hollow!

HOLLOW!

Just like the tomb on the third day, my bunny’s body was empty. Melted down, the chocolate bunny was no bigger than a heresy fun size bar so why the secrecy? Why the hype? Well, I took the lesson that cocoa commodities could not support a filled chocolate bunny at the desired size and still be affordable or nutritious for a kiddie.

And that’s probably for the better – just remember to brush afterward.

Free! Unlimited non-inventory!

2006-04-07T21:00:00.000-04:00

While traveling around town the other day, I spotted a sign at a gas station that made a bold claim:

"Red Bull. In stock or it's FREE!"

At first, I thought this was very bold and very generous offer. They seemed to be very confident in their Red Bull stock. Then it hit me - If they were out of stock, what would happen? I know that they said "It's Free!" but what would be free? I'm left to only conclude that they are meaning that I can stock my little car with as much as I can of great quantities of Red Bull that they do not have.

I would probably have to make several trips to carry the load of non-red bulls. Maybe I could finish off a couple thousand in the car to lighten the load.

So keep an eye on those Red Bull shelves. Be ready to pounce on the promise of unlimited non-red bulls - it's the best deal in town!

War Cry: Shawn Roberts!

2006-03-30T10:24:00.000-05:00

My wife and I watch over a group four-year-olds every Wednesday evening during the school year. Sometimes this is a form of birth control for us and other times it gives us the idea that maybe just maybe we could pull off having a child of our own. But it’s never discussed without fear and trepidation.

The mind of a four year old is very complex. You’d think it would, by most standards, be optimized for games and snacks, but there are inner workings in that smallish head that defies explanation.

For example, now that the days are getting longer and the early evenings are warmer, we send them outside to the playground during “Game Time.” This is a wonderful mechanism to wear them down so that they will do the mundane tasks later we have for them later. After a winter of playing “Red Light Green Light” with very slack rules, the kids were jittery with excitement on the promise of “outside.”

Upon marching out to the play ground in single file line, the tension to burst forth in squeals of glee was mounting. The girls tend to run and yalp into the playground as an announcement of all the fun that is before them. The boys, however, look to conquer the fun with fists-a-flying – pummeling it with dirt and wood chips. One boy who is one of our more sedate/space cadet kids, I’ll call him “Trevor,” came out, raised his fists in determination and grunted in a restrained fervor “SHAWN ROBERTS!”

I have no idea who Shawn Roberts is so I did an internet search. I don’t know why “Trevor” seems to need to express himself by stating the name of the acting legal director at the center for justice & accountability (according to google). Again, the four-year-old mind is complex. He could have simply meant “Strong Robbers!” or “Song Rugburns,” but – on second thought - neither of those clarifies the issue.

All in all, as long as they keep the dirt and woodchips out of their nose, eyes, mouth and ears, he can state whatever acting legal director of his choice…

…as long as they can help referee “Red Light Green Light”

Farewell Petra

2006-03-23T16:22:00.000-05:00

Petra. What can I say? Petra was in my mind the standard of Christian Rock music for decades and now they are going away. At least that’s what I’m assuming since their latest album is called “Farewell.” I must preface this by saying I did no research before typing this. Though I never followed Petra, I am a little sad. My only dealings with their music are from their very first albums and then I lost interest after “This Means War.” Don’t get me wrong, I don’t dislike Petra. If Petra came over for a visit, we’d have a great time with Guesstures or Uno Attack. But I never considered them for anything more than a casual acquaintance.
News of this breakup has made me rethink a lot of things. Well, Petra-related things. My feelings about it are akin to that one kid in school who seemed kind of okay and then you heard him crack a few jokes and thought he was cool and then you find out that his dad got a job transfer to Izekistan (or some country ending in –stan). I know I had over 20 years to listen to Petra but I guess I really didn’t want to based on the fact that I thought they’d always be around. Just like chicken noodle soup, you don’t want to have it all the time, but when you might need it, you know it’s there and never going away.
Do I have enough analogies for you?
Petra to me was the James Bond character of Christian music. If a band member or two wanted to move on, that’s okay, they’d find a replacement – they always did. I’m sure they had Sean Connery albums as well as their Timothy Daltons.
Complete overhauls in music do not work, but if you replace a band member every odd year, the blow isn’t as bad. I viewed Petra as an institution like “Saturday Night Live” except more entertaining and more respectable. Petra would not and could not go away, even if a record exec wanted it to. Buried in long legal contracts first penned in the 70’s, an unbreakable clause was unearthed that spelled the immortality of Petra.
“Oh no!” cried the record exec as he tried to push an off-color semi-Christian band under Petra’s budget – and Petra came out with another album that week and the record exec was punished for his ignorance.
Okay, maybe it wasn’t like that, but it should have been.
Even though I was not even a casual listener, I have been known to travel down the highway and spurt out “BEYOND BELIEF! BEYOND BELIEF!” where my wife would join in on the repeat after getting over the jolt of my first outburst. She’s cool like that.
Well, here’s to the rock that was Petra and all you have done and meant to countless people over the decades. More power to ya.

On fire!

2006-03-15T16:44:00.000-05:00

Certain denominations of my faith require me not to dance. Okay, “require” isn’t the right word. “Strongly suggest” is more appropriate. The suggestion is to protect the appearance of lewdness or inappropriate closeness to a member of the opposite gender wherein the dancer would stumble ..nay, bootscoot into debauchery.
That’s a mighty presupposition considering my attractibility of females is roughly “0”
– and that’s rounding up.
I would rather submit that this prohibition to dance is more of a protection to not embarrass oneself. In fact, I would go so far as to say that the plea to not dance is more of a “You don’t know how to - so stop it.” If I were to let it all hang out I would most likely start dancing like this:

I call this dance: “Aigh! Getemoffahme”

True. It’s not as shrewd or sophisticated as two musical artists as depicted below:

But, as you can see, if you were to try any of these moves, you would simply just draw attention to yourself – not a good attention either. I realize I can’t dance, nor do I enter environments that, when certain conditions are met, give me no choice but to dance. However, should that occasion occur, where I would have to “eat meat sacrificed to idols” so-to-speak, I have my dance move picked out that can be safely performed with minimal disturbance off in the corner without breaking local social customs:

Whoo! I’ll be impressin’ the lady-types!

Maybe I’ll just stick to sliding on linoleum in socks.

The Banana Gospel

2006-03-08T10:25:00.000-05:00

Being a resident of the United States of America, I have come to realize that I have been eating a banana the wrong way my entire life and you may have too. I was “enlightened” by some friends from the Ukraine who brought me their “Banana Gospel.” When I first heard about it, I was shocked and resistant claiming “pfft! Yeah right.” (I didn’t take debate in High School, so that’s the extent of my rebuttals) Even though I didn’t like bananas, I found myself wondering about it. “Could it be? Have I been wrong all this time?” I dared myself to think this way, because I really had nothing to lose.

The banana gospel is simple. “Peel it from the other end.” Yet the profound truth of this is deeper than what you first realize. “Peel it from the other end??” you may say. “That’s ludicrous! Everyone knows that the stubby end of the banana is one of the most hardest materials nature has ever devised! … Right?” For illustrative purposes, I took the following pictures in my cubicle with a free camera that came with an Office Depot order. Pictures will help and it's too bad I didn't have a camera during my orange episode.

This is my banana, I’ll call him “Chuckles”

Besides the odd shape and structure, the banana has a lot of valuable nutrients and can taste really good with peanut butter. I heard that some people like to put them in the freezer. But recipes are not to be discussed here.

Nature’s pull tab? Or convenient handle? The Truth may shock you!

As tempting as it is to pull that stem, it is wrong. How many times have you peeled a banana that wasn’t cooperating and you wound up mashing up the top? Granted, this doesn’t happen all the time, but it’s enough to make you say “I’d like a banana but why go to the trouble?” There is hope.

Behold the stubby end, largely ignored by Western Civilization

I don’t know about you, but I’ve always regarded this part of the banana as inaccessible. Why? Because I assumed it was due to being raised to open bananas from the stem. I never once thought “out of the box” to see that maybe … just maybe … there was another way. It took someone from the other side of the planet to show me the way.
“Just what do you do now?” I’m glad you asked. The stubby end can be peeled by your own fingers, like an orange but without any squirting juice. “HUH??” is what I usually get as a reply after I say this – like I largely shook a vital truth. It’s okay, I had the same reaction.

“Aigh what are you doing?? You’re messing with my head!”

Now since, I’m taking my own pictures in secret, I have to do this one handed. I recommend two hands for more efficiency. As you can see, the stubby end is giving away easily. “Stop! Isn’t this against the law??”

You will quickly see that this is working out really want to share the idea with another Perhaps you’ll want to buy a banana of your own to try it out. You can name it whatever you want.

Chuckles the Banana in mid-peel

Observe: No floppy stem to deal with…

…and Looky! A nice little handle for easy cleanup!

I know there are some of you who probably are saying “So what? I’ve done it that way forever!” Good! But, you are rare – at least in my experience. Everyone I’ve come in contact with has peeled it the by the stem. Some even have gone to say “yeah, right! Whatever…” as if I was trying to deceive them.
I’m pretty sure that cartoons from the 30s and 40s depict the “banana peel slip” gag with a banana peel like above, but I don’t have that research with me. However, pictures of bananas in video games such as Super Mario Kart have a banana as such:

and in others...

And we never question it.

I showed my grandmothers, parents, in-laws and friends this technique and they all looked like they never saw a banana before. A new world was open before them. Some refused this new teaching, some accepted it but have no real use for it since they hated bananas, but to some it has forever changed their banana peeling habits.

That’s the power of Truth.

The only joke I know

2006-03-01T13:14:00.000-05:00

I only know one joke. It’s sad but it’s the truth. I can come up with some older jokes that everyone knows, but when it comes down to joke telling, in its traditional sense, I draw a blank – except for this one joke. It’s a golf joke too. I don’t golf, however. The expressions of the characters of this joke are built and suspended in my mind as theoretical.

I did not write this joke. I’m not that funny. I’m sorta funny. (See logo at top) Is the joke funny? Well, when first heard, yes – but if you’re my wife who has to endure countless retellings – then no. She knows I only have one joke, so whenever I tell someone, “hey, I have a joke for you.” She hangs her head in a “not again” stance. She does confess that she does find the joke funny, but only once – at that “once” was 7 years ago. Why she doesn’t tell this joke to others herself is beyond me.

I also submitted this joke to Reader’s Digest. I didn’t expect too much since they keep reprinting old jokes and pay people for them or disregard them all-together. The joke appeared in a couple issues later, reworded and slimmed down. There was no point to argue, it wasn’t my joke and it wasn’t in my wording. I didn’t think it was as funny – not even sorta funny, but more like “could’ve-been-more-funny-if-they-used-my-version.” I’m not bitter; because it’s still a good joke to toss too someone who never heard before, especially a golfer but one does not need to be a golfer to appreciate this joke. It’s also has a better reaction when told aloud rather than print. Try it. It works.

What’s the joke? Ask my wife, she can tell it without laughing.

Vacation vs. Holiday - Where do you want to leave today?

2006-02-23T15:52:00.000-05:00

Of the many similar-yet-not concepts with our British-like folks across “the pond,” as it were, is the phrase “Holiday.” Here in the states, this is a term reserved for national holidays ranging from Gargantuan Festive Feast known aka Thanksgiving (a two-day-er at that too!) to the more obscure “Columbus Day” where you still have to go to work but the banks and post offices are closed to increase annoyance.
“Holidays” as they are known here, are celebrated the evening before so you can sleep in unless you are “active” and prefer doing odd jobs and chores until it’s time to start the charcoal grill/Oven/George Foreman Grill.
Over in England, also known as land of the Engs, and in other British-type colonies this term refers to the American word, “Vacation.” In sweet sing-songy voices they say “I’m going on Holiday” and they go across the planet to some remote exotic location like the Amazon or Toledo and suck the marrow out of it. Here, in the states, we take vacations. The very nature of its name proves that we do not know how to relax as a nation. Just look at it:

Vacation

Obviously, it takes it name from the root “Vacate.” That said, the word pretty much states that it doesn’t matter where you go as long as you vacate your current surroundings.
“Where are you going for your vacation?”
“Does it matter? I just won’t be here.”
“True! Hanging out at home, eh?”
“Pretty much, I’ll probably check my email half-hourly.”
(Enter Boss)
“Riley! Your on Vacation, you must vacate … NOW!”

So, basically, we Americans are left to watch commercials for cruise lines that contain “hints” on how to have fun. I believe after a couple more generations, we’ll be so job/career focused, that the simple pleasures will be viewed as antiquated head-scratching customs such as “beating-the-bounds”*

“You mean, I can go into the water”
“Absolutely…”
“Why…”
“…uh”
Baby steps America, take baby steps …

*It’s not worth it to describe

Defending your opinion? Too bad!

2006-02-15T15:04:00.000-05:00

I made this image to serve as a reminder. The internet is not really a place to prove your point. Don’t get me wrong, it is a place to state your point – along with everyone else and their little dogs too. While many sites seem to thrive on controversy – when people start airing their opinions, that is all that will happen. Plain old opinionnn...airing.

You won’t see the following posts anywhere on forums after someone rebuttals a long discourse of opinion…

“You’re right. My bad…”
“Oh, I understand, I was wrong”
“No kidding? Huh, I had it all backward”

Want opinions on military intelligence? Creationism vs Evolution? Looking for an excellent programmer, but confused whether he should be fluent in Ajax or should he just be C++? Did that grilled cheese sandwich with Mary’s image really have any significance? Are Republicans too fat and Liberals too wonky? Was asbestos flavored asbestos really needed for asbestosly designed products or was it just a fad?

Sure, there’s a lot of questions, but I want you to understand that while there are myriads of opinion-toting personages out there, you can be rest assured that this site … in some fashion, updated once a week … will try to sift through heady arguments, by completely ignoring them.

This site will make every effort support phrases along the lines of “I once carbonated a peanut” or “I have detailed plans for creating ninja stars out of cotton swabs, I’m pretty sure they will bounce off my wife's head with no ill effect.”*

Sillybear Inc. is here for your comfort, your enjoyment and your weekly “what the heck was that?” 100% original, clean and almost funny.

*Hey! I love my wife. It's a cottonswab ninja star! I would never throw anything sharp at her. Ever. You people are weird.

Conspiracy abounds!

2006-02-07T16:49:00.000-05:00

Yes, I made this image to prep the world for the DaVinci Code movie-thing coming out. I couldn't resist really. I'm not one for hot topic debates, because ... well, this is Sillybear Inc. after all!

...and if you don't get the image, you should really rent "A Christmas Story."

Cheeri-o!

The New America

2006-02-02T09:17:00.000-05:00

I have taken it upon myself to redesign America. No, I’m not talking about Legislative or Capitalistic Social what-have-yous, I’m taking about the map of the United States (and Commonwealths) of America. Look at the mess down below:

Wow. So many curves and jagged edges all over. It looks like the further West they went, the wiser they got, but were afraid of redoing the earlier work. Now don’t give me all that about rivers and mountains and population, if Americans have a right to speak their mind, they have a right to live in adequately spaced and proportional states (and commonwealths.)

Now, let’s begin:

First, let’s just combined that whole Northeastern section into one state. Do we really need Rhode Island by itself? It's smaller than my morning commute! Can’t Vermont and New Hampshire get along? Of course they can! So, here is our new state of … New England. The postal code can be NE and we’ll change Nebraska’s to NA. That shouldn’t confuse many.

Let’s move on…

Allright, this is an easy one.

The Problem: Panhandles.

The Solution: Oklahoma has gotten away with this for too long. We’ll give Texas the extra bit (because you don’t mess with Texas, that’s what I hear on the street anyway) and will cut off Florida’s and divvy it up between neighbors. This is looking promising. On to the next!

Okay, here we straighten out the lines set up earlier to be a little neater. The proposed “purple” state will be economical since only 100 people live in this area anyway. Although, I’m starting to think that even the Purple state (PS for the postal code) isn’t very shapely. Even Texas is starting to look really unflattering.

I can see where this is going. Even if I do organize the borders into respectable squares, we have the natural boundaries of the continent that throw the whole scheme off. Stupid oceans!

Allright, the best way to deal with this is to organize a large scale landfill into the Atlantic, Pacific and Gulf of Mexico to fill out the rough boundaries until a result as such is achieved:

There! Perfectly edged and everyone can literally have, “their own corner” of the world.Here is a proposed satellite shot of the New USA:

The unevenness is a result of the oceanic erosion and the curvature of the earth, but do not fear, there are plans underway to fix that issue as well:

We’ll just find more dirt somewhere else.

Food 2: Artificialness

2006-01-26T16:58:00.000-05:00

The mark of the 20th century was A.I. – no, not Artificial Intelligence, but Artificial Ingredients. These ingredients tend to be colors and flavors that enhance either real food or other artificial substances that resemble food. The purpose of artificial ingredients is to mimic something that is natural but at the fraction of the cost – or just to do it for kicks. What is so interesting about these ingredients is that we have used them for so long that life today would be so different without them. Without them, all soda would be clear. Ever think about that? Crystal Pepsi was just Caffeine Free Pepsi without the Caramel Coloring. It’s true! People kept saying that it had a hint of something like 7up in it, but that was all in their minds because there artificially laden diet could not discern taste from sight. “It’s clear! So it MUST have a lemon-limy flavor somewhere!” (That is one of the commandments in soda making today - since Pepsi violated it, it was taken off the market n' stuff). Many snacks would be a dull white color too – namely candy. Things would taste very odd too without artificial flavors, but artificial flavors must have tasted odd at one time. Artificial grape and watermelon come to my mind as flavors that are well accepted today in society, but they have NO relation to their natural counterparts. Think about it, Grape Kool-Aid is as artificial as you can get. First, just what exactly is “Kool” and how is this product-of-powder aiding it? It also has a hue of purple not normal in this universe - at least to the grape family. Of course, the taste does not resemble grape juice nor would one be able to ferment Grape Kool-Aid in order to make a Grape Kool-Aid Wine due to the hefty portion of preservatives desperately trying to keep its molecules together. For 99 cents a packet, mothers willingly give their own children this seemingly unstable concoction.

But that’s okay.

I’m sure their was tons of credible research done on the long term effects of these ingredients. Right? So, with all this in mind, is it my desire to eat natural and only purely organic material? Heavens no! Keep the colors coming! Keep the polymer-cupcakes flowing! Any culture that has learned to create the entity known as “The Twinkie” can eat whatever they dang well please … as long as you have your estate in order.

Retro vs. Cutting Edge vs. Me

2006-01-19T16:47:00.000-05:00

I must confess that I am a retro-geek. I have to call myself that because I’m not a current-geek. The laser pointers that can melt duct tape and AJAX programmed web-doohikies are not in my possession and I don’t have enough cash or time to support a multi-console habit of video gaming. Based on that, I cannot consider myself a current-geek … and I’m OK with that. Older technology interests me for two reasons:

1. It’s cheap or free
2. I have a higher probability to understand it and not mash buttons in frustration

It’s true that if I was presented with an amber screen mainframe computer with tape reels along side an ultra thin laptop computer with a huge-faced screen, I’d poke around Mr. UNIVAC over there first before seeing how many Terabytes of RAM the iSnazzy-Mac had. This could be considered a weakness, but it’s just an overgrown curiosity.

Even my music is antiquated. Not many can stand it or will stand for it. Currently in my CD-Player I have “Electric Avenue” playing which always makes me want to program Atari games or write in BASIC. 1982 through 1984 seemed like a magical time though my parents would wonder just what the heck I thought was so thrilling about a time that looked like this:

“If you need help with your wardrobe, please press 0 now.”

“There are two kinds of fools: One says, ‘This is old therefore it is good.’ The other one says, ‘This is new therefore it is better.’”

I thought this was a quote from the Bible, but it turns out it’s just from some guy who was broke, like me, and couldn’t invest in either timeframe. Still, it says a lot. It’s much better to live in the NOW and be ever-present. (By living in the NOW, I don’t mean living in the storage basement of the National Organization of Women – that would be a little creepy and darn near an episode of CSI).

For the most part, I like the Future. It’s a bit expensive and aloof, but it looks nice. The Past, though friendly and warm, can get on your nerves if entertained too long. The Answer? Buy the Present a soda and get to know it real well, make it a grilled cheese sandwich and surf the Information Superhighway together. You’ll be glad you did.

The Truth about the Peanut

2006-01-13T09:02:00.000-05:00

A peanut is neither a pea nor a nut. The peanut is actually from the dairy group, a cousin of eggnog and highly poisonous. It is so named because it looks like a nut found in a pod that resembles a peapod – if you squint and tilt your head a little. The peanut was discovered in 1972 by a French Monk now known as Saint Johnay (pronounced Ko-ko-san-chez). He was a portly chap who liked to poke at mud with a stick. One day, while poking around in a cow pasture, a tiny peanut flew from the end of his stick. He picked it up and decided to study it. After weeks of examination, he threw it away. His fellow monk, Callumnoki (pronounced “Pay-ter”) recovered it, cracked it open, ate the contents and died 10 minutes later. Callumnoki owed Johnay 15 Francs. This is why deadbeats use to throw peanuts at collection agencies on All Saints Day in Quebec, Milan and Dunlap, Iowa – it was a threat as if to say “We can kill ourselves at anytime and leave your money uncollected.” This tradition ceased in 1985 when laws were passed that could enable collection agencies to claim estate amounts for owed debt. The lesser known tradition of hiding peanuts in the ground and giving children poking sticks is still practiced every Tuesday in Bakersfield, North Dakota for 10 minutes right before Jeopardy.

Your clock is wrong I tell you!

2006-01-06T08:38:00.000-05:00

I have a rare sleeping disorder. This disorder, though mild to me, is very serious to my spouse. If it was as simple as snoring, it could be dealt with by surgical operations or Darth Vader-like contraptions strapped to my face with nostril tubes that would reach into my liver – but it is not. The problem I have happens about once a year and, by my reasoning, is not treatable.
The best way to visualize my disorder is to think of us all as having internal clocks that govern our bodies. These clocks can naturally tell us when to get up and when to go to bed. The problem is that my internal clock can sometimes react as if a gigantic electromagnet the size of Houston is right beside my head. All normality is gone and pandemonium is put there instead.
Let me give you specific encounters to further illustrate this problem. The first time this happened to me and my wife was one sleepy night where my wife was sleeping peacefully like an angel and I was wadded up in some sort of cannonball posture involving a pillow, pillow sham and at least one corner of a blanket that is trying desperately to leave my straining clutches. It was during this night that I jolted awake, my internal clock askew.
You see, my internal clock told me – in harsh tones – that it was 6:30. The usual time I get up, but for unexplainable reasons to me at the time, the alarm clock said 1:03am.
Because my internal clock insisted in being right, the external clock that only had unreliable electricity powering it had to be wrong. Fearing some sort of freakish power outage happened; I decided to wake my wife to chime in on the issue. She wasn’t very forthcoming with useful theories. Mostly she was mad. The conversation went something like this:

Me: wife’s name!
Wife: zzzz
Me: WIFE’S NAME MORE EMPHATIC
Wife: zzzhu… what?
Me: Why does the clock say 1am??

At this point there was a moment of stunned silence which I didn’t understand. Her unwillingness to jump in and solve this caper proved that I was on top of things more than anyone else. This was an error in judgment, however because she quickly diffused the situation by saying:

Wife: Maybe … because it IS?
(another pause of stunned silence)
Me: Oh….

The rest of the night was spent with me making sounds like a cappuccino machine and my wife wondering what just happened and why she was punished by a man who insisted on imitating industrial-grade appliances. We eventually laughed it off just in time (well, only me) for this next incident happened the following year:
While nestled and all snug in our bed, a familiar panic ensued. Around 2am my internal clock sounded an alarm akin to the terror alert being raised from green to deep deep maroon. There was no time to wake the wife this time, haste was immediate! I threw off the blanket, comforter, pillows and (I think) a largish stuffed animal and dashed to the bathroom in a tizzy. Somewhere along the way, for reasons unexplained, this woke my wife up. Just as I reached the door she called out “What’s wrong?” In a panic-induced voice tempered by annoyance at such a nonsensical question I answered back “It’s 2 instead of 1!”
Again the silent pause. My wife used her groundbreaking analytical testing question of “what??” for which I didn’t have an answer for. “oh…” I said with a laugh that wasn’t shared, “I did it again.” Trying to let this one slide by proved harder as my wife started wondering just exactly what was wrong with me and why she has to be brought into this debacle of “me.” Marriage joins a lot of things together. Let this be a warning to others considering such a move too lightly.
Now that I had opened the almost healed wounds from the first experience and inflicted even more pain with a ridiculous statement, I thought I had reached the bottom and put this all behind me.
One year later I had a dream. I dreamt that my wife and her mother were helping me debug a complex computer program. It was a humdinger of a problem too. As we three studied and sweated over the code, I decided to go use the restroom and come back to tackle it anew. While I was in the bathroom, I noticed that the wall clock said it was 3am. I was only able to process this by staring at the clock for a good 5 minutes. Why I was working on a computer problem with my wife and mother-in-law at 3am was a puzzler. And then it dawned on me. “Hmmm, I bet I was dreaming! Aha!” Then it dawned on me another time “I just woke my wife up again.” I then tried to reason that maybe I didn’t. No such luck.
I returned to a very awake wife wondering if I was sick or hurt. I wished it was true. The answer of “nothing” did not appease her. Sadly, the full explanation of my behavior didn’t work either. It was a lose-lose situation, mainly me losing some brownie points and her losing sleep. Since that time, my inner alarm clock has been restrained to me staying in bed and staring intently at my little clock for several minutes, convincing myself that I’m not late for work, church or to cook and eat breakfast sausage. If I was to retain any peace, if I do turn out to be late for something, I can still calmly remove myself from bed and carefully walk to the shower to proceed to get ready without knocking everything gravity prone to the ground. I’ve come a long way. Now to handle this cappuccino machine snore …

The Zen of Pudding

2005-12-30T08:25:00.000-05:00

There are many questions that husbands fear to be asked by their wives. Some of these questions may be “does this look all right on me?” or “do you mind going over to visit with my great aunt’s sister-in-law’s roommate for 6 hours?” among other things. These questions don’t terrify me, nor do they throw me off. But the one question that will get me into trouble over and over again are the four words “What are you thinking?”

Ladies, why do you do this? Men don’t think. And even when we do, it’s about something mundane and un-exciting like spark plugs, external hard drives or even pulled pork. Unless you have an inane interest into one of these genres, then by all means continue to ask, otherwise assume that we are okay, we love you and all is right in the world. Sadly, my wife knows better. What’s worse is that my mind can and has done some very random thinking on topics that usually people do not dwell upon. I use “dwell” loosely, because this holds no effort for me. For example, my lovely wife and I were on a road trip back down the highway to Kansas – the breadbasket of America. I don’t know why it’s called that since eastern Kansas seems to be thriving with Chinese restaurants. Apparently, “sweet and sour pork basket” of America lacks Midwestern charm. Anyway, it was on a lone stretch of highway that my wife asked the question of all questions “What are you thinking?” This was indeed unfortunate because, for reasons unknown to even me, I was thinking about pudding. Yes, pudding. Was I hungry? No. Did I just see it on a billboard? No again. In fact, I was just thinking about the nature of pudding and why pudding was pudding. In short - why pudding is. This seemed to confuse my wife because the furrow in her brow returned and you’d think after so many furrows, she’d stop provoking this type of behavior out of me. She has confessed that she asks this question for entertainment purposes, but the answer invariably disappoints, confuses and subtlety upsets her. I imagine the subtext of her thoughts go as such: “Why is he thinking about pudding? Is he hungry? Do I not make enough pudding? I have a husband that thinks about pudding while driving.”

In my defense, useless as it is, I was just mainly analyzing that pudding seems to be a quasi-dessert – neither solid nor liquid and unlike its brother known as “filling” – it is not part of another dessert genre. You can combine pudding with “crust” and get another dessert called “pie,” but pudding can stand-alone while “cream filling” by itself is left wanting symbiotic relationship. This explanation should have satisfied my wife, but it didn’t. After stating this, I was ready to prepare and oral essay on my thought with references to Dickens, folklore and Bill Cosby, but all she did was turn up the radio. Will she ask what I’m thinking again? You bet! Will she regret it? Most likely, but the one thing she can take comfort in is that I am honest.

The Unofficial "It's a Wonderful Life" Boardgame

2005-12-23T08:09:00.000-05:00

I enjoy making board games. It's a dream job of mine that doesn't really add a lot of value to this world. Nevertheless, I do it anyway as a hobby. Since this is Christmas time, what better way to celebrate than to share with you.

The Unofficial

Board Game!

(These rules and game structure are copyright to me, 2003. All characters are property to whoever made them - No, I didn't make any money on this. Don't sue me. All we all okay? Good.)

Relive the joy, trauma and entrapment of George Bailey with family and friends. Do you have the mettle to stand up to what he went through? Guide your token through Bedford Falls and be the one with the most friends to keep Old Man Potter from bringing you down!

2-6 Players
Ages 8 and up

CONTENTS
1 Unofficial “It’s a Wonderful Life™” Board Game Instruction Booklet
1 Unofficial Game Board
1 Die
6 Tokens
26 Very Interesting Situation Cards
6 Choice Cards
40 Friend Cards
24 Asset Cards
30 Potter Cards
15 Clarence Cards

GOAL

Your goal is to try to get George out of Bedford Falls with as many friends as possible.

SET-UP

1. Each player chooses a token and places it on START

Tokens:
George’s Model T
Potter’s Wheelchair
Ernie’s Taxicab
Harry’s Plane
George’s unused suitcase
George’s Hat

2. Shuffle the Friend, Asset and Clarence Cards together
3. Deal out 7 cards to each player.
4. Reshuffle the deck and include the Potter Cards, Situation Cards and Choice Cards.
5. Place the deck on the Draw Pile rectangle
6. Have each player roll the die to see who goes first.

BEGINNING A TURN
1. To begin a turn, roll the die and move your token that many spaces and draw a card.
2. Follow any instructions that are on the card.

There are 6 different types of cards described briefly here:

Very Interesting Situation Cards
Some are good, some are bad, but are all will be very interesting to deal with. After you experience the situation, place it on the discard pile.

Choice Cards
These cards will give you a golden opportunity that you can take . . . or not. Place it on the discard pile after you make your choice.

Friend & Asset Cards
These cards help you during the Very Interesting Situations you’ll experience throughout your life. They are collected in your hand.

Potter Cards
These cards stay on you and harm you in different ways. Place these cards in front of you. If they are removed (described later), they are placed in the discard pile.

Clarence Cards
Clarence cards are here to help you out of some tight spots. They also are collected in your hand.

3. After completing what the cards say to do; play then goes to next player on the left.

NOTE: There is no limit to the amount of cards you can have in your hand as the game progresses.

When the draw pile is depleted, reshuffle the discard pile and place it on the draw pile rectangle.

WINNING
The player, who has the most friend cards once everyone is out of Bedford Falls, wins. When a player reaches the end, through a choice card or reaching the last square, that player must discard 3 friend or asset cards (or a mixture) for every Potter card they have. Any unused Clarence cards count as 2 friends. Unused Asset cards count as 1 friend card.

THE CARDS

VERY INTERESTING SITUATION Cards

George’s life, while wonderful, is full of interesting situations that are both good and bad. These cards will affect your progress through the board as well as the number of cards in your hand.

The Board votes Potter down
Potter’s greedy hands are slapped back once more!
Advance 2 spaces.

Harry is awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor
“I guess they do those things.”
Local morale is up, advance 3 spaces with pride and draw
another card with gusto.

Bailey Park vs. Potter’s field
“Potter’s Field is becoming exactly that!”
You get more people out of Potter’s slums.
Advance 1 space OR draw another card.

Potter offers 50 cents on the dollar
“Better half than nothing!”
This offer is strong in the ears of your customers.
Play an asset card to advance 4 spaces otherwise go back 4 spaces.

Mary is stuck in the hydrangea bushes
“A man doesn't get in a situation like this every day
... Not in Bedford Falls, anyway.”
You decide to sell tickets. Move ahead a space.

Freddie & Mickey plot against you
“Did you know there's a swimming pool under this floor?”
Immediately discard this card . . .
and while you’re at it, discard a friend card too.

The Swimming Pool Opens at the dance
“They’re cheering us! We must be good!”
Roll the die
Even – You stay dry; Stay where you are.
Odd – You fall in; Move forward 2 spaces; draw 2 cards.

There’s a run on the Bank
“If you close your doors before six P.M. you will never reopen.”
The town is uneasy. What are they going to do until
the bank reopens in a couple of days?.
Use 2 asset cards to stay where you are otherwise go back 2 spaces.

The $8000
“One of us is going to jail! Well, it's not going to be me!”
Play 5 asset cards; OR one Sam Wainwright card to stay where you are
OTHERWISE discard all cards and move back 5 spaces.

FOR SALE: 320 Sycamore; Minor Repairs Needed
“Welcome Home, Mr. Bailey.”
If you have Mary’s card, advance 3 spaces.
If you have the Dream Home Asset card, discard it now.

You wish for a million dollars
“Hot Dog!”
Advance 1 space.

Mr. Welch
You get punched at the bar after saying a prayer.
Move back 5 spaces OR play two friend cards to move back only one space OR play Mr. Martini’s card to stay where you are

The Bank Examiner Has Come
You should have called him yesterday; now he’s here.
Move back 1 space

Business Partner - Uncle Billy
Roll the die
1 – He forgets to call the Bank Examiner again, lose a turn.
2, 3 – He does an o.k. job, move ahead one space.
4 – He can’t remember where he left $8000, move back 4 spaces to go help look for it, keep this card & roll the die again for another outcome.
5, 6 – He’s doing a lousy job, keep this card, move back 1 space, discard an asset card and roll the die again for another outcome.

Potter issues a warrant for your arrest
“Go on home! They’re waiting for you!”
Discard all Friend cards, if you have no friend cards – you lose 2 turns to take time to straighten everything out with the Sheriff.

The Battle of Bedford Falls continues
The War is on! You keep your head while everyone squabbles over necessities. Advance 1 space & discard a friend card. If you have no friend cards, you’re disgruntled, move back 2 spaces.

The Second World War
You can’t even get out of Bedford Falls to risk your life in battle! You get involved in different roles in town.
Move back 3 spaces and draw a card.

CHOICE cards
Choice cards allow you to get out of the game early to avoid any more perils or pitfalls; of course you could get more friends and assets too if you stay in the game. If you accept a choice that leads you away from running the Bailey Building & Loan, calculate your number of friend cards as you would if you have reached the end of the board. You then sit out with your total and wait for the other players to reach the end.

Harry offers to take over the business
“You’ve been holding the bag here for years, George.”
If you have Harry’s card, advance 3 spaces
before you make your decision.
If you stay, move back 1 space.

The Board wants you to continue the business
“They voted Potter down! They want to keep it going!
But there’s one condition . . .”
If don’t have Uncle Billy’s card, discard 2 asset cards
before making your decision.
If you stay, move back 2 spaces.

Potter offers you a job in his company
“Oh, confound it, man, are you afraid of success?!”
If you have Mary’s card, move back 5 spaces before
you make your decision.
If you stay, token does not move.

ASSET cards
Assets are all that you have (or have the potential to have), besides your friends. These cards can only be used when a situation occurs. Manage them wisely.

Travel Money

College Money

Honeymoon Money

Insurance Policy

Dream Home

New Car

Ground Floor Investment in Plastics

Zuzu’s Petals

FRIEND cards
The more friends you have, the less of a failure you will be – at least in this game. Some friends have special capabilities while other friends are just there in your hand, hoping to help out someday. These cards can only be used when a situation occurs. Play these cards carefully.

Bert & Ernie
Counts as two friend cards

Mr. Martini

Mary
When you use this card, advance 2 spaces plus the number
of Potter cards against you.

Uncle Billy
Move back 1 space
whenever this card is used

Mr. Gower

Annie

Zuzu
If you have Zuzu’s petals, her card counts as two friend cards

Violet
If you use this card while you have any Potter cards
Move back 1 space.

Sam “Heehaw” Wainwright

Random Friends
Value equals 1 plus the amount of Potter cards you have against you

Harry

Marty

Nick

Mrs. Davis
She only wants $17.50!
This card can be used either as a friend card OR as an asset card.

Cousin Tilly

Cousin Eustace

Mr. Partridge

Peter Bailey
This card counts as 1 friend card AND 1 asset card together.

Mrs. Bailey

POTTER cards

Old Man Potter is at it again! The richest and meanest man in town! He stays on your back without a moments rest. When you draw one of his cards, place it in front of you. The effect of his cards stays until they are removed by Clarence’s cards OR by sacrificing 3 friend cards and 1 asset card for every Potter card you have.

Potter Speaks
He tells you really depressing stuff and you believe it.
As long as this card is in play, the farthest you can move is three spaces per turn.

Potter Deals
He makes you question your own motives and calling.
Whenever Friend cards are played on your turn; you must play an additional one. If you do not have the needed amount of Friend cards, go back 1 space.

Potter Plots
He has all the time and money in the world to plan your demise.
Whenever Asset cards are played on your turn; you must play an additional one.
If you do not have the needed amount of Asset cards, go back 1 space.

Potter Buys
Potter starts buying every business in town to apply more pressure on the Building and Loan. Discard down to 4 cards. You can only carry up to 4 cards as long as this card is in effect. At the end of every turn be sure to discard down to 4 cards.

It is possible to have more than one of the same Potter card affect you. Place each one in front of you. Only “Potter Deals” and “Potter Speaks” create extra problems by having you cast off even more friends and assets.

CLARENCE cards
Clarence Odbody AS2 is here to help you. Keep his cards handy. A Clarence card can be played at anytime during your turn. Because George is a little slow to catch on to what is happening, only one Clarence card can be played during your turn.

Truth
“You see, George, you really had a wonderful life. Don't you see what a mistake it would be to throw it away?”
Removes one Potter card and advances you two spaces

Innocence
“Mulled wine, heavy on the cinnamon and light on the cloves.
Off with you, me lad, and be lively!”
Removes one Potter Card

Faith
“Now look, you mustn't talk like that.
I won't get my wings with that attitude.”
Ignores effects of the last card you drew
Whether a situation, choice or Potter card – place it on
the discard pile.

The Great Gift
“You've got your wish. You've never been born.”
For two turns, the effects of your Potter cards are cancelled

Hope
“No man is a failure who has friends.”
Removes all your Potter cards

And there ya go. A great Christmas to all and to all a good Christmas.

Holiday Yuck: How to hate your mouth

2005-12-16T08:43:00.000-05:00

It's that time of year again. Jones Soda company has done it again with another batch of holiday travesty.

A group of us at work decided to dive into this delectable horror so we could say "I did it." Only after this did we decide that there should have been cash as a reward, but oh well...

Here is a fast breakdown of our experience. I ranked them from least foul to diabolical evil against all that is right and wholesome. Enjoy!

Cranberry Sauce – Not bad. In light of the other sodas, it is the nectar of the gods. On its own, it’s just plain iffy. Not something you would willingly try the third time. The second try is basically for the “did I taste that right?” confirmation.

Pumpkin Pie – Sweet Moses, this was bizarre. It tasted like a pumpkin exploded in my mouth, lodging rotten pumpkin seeds into my nasal cavity. The carbonation seemed too strong and that just added to the pain. There is no second try there, because this experience was starting to taint my enthusiasm.

Turkey and Gravy – I must admit that this seemed to be the dullest of the flavors. It may have been that my palate was already tainted and so I couldn’t get the full effect. I was quick to realize that this was a blessing. The taste of gravy soda was not something I really wanted to fully experience. Hopeing that this would be how the other flavors would pan out showed how young and naive I still was.

Wild Herb Stuffing – For the love of all that is pure and holy, why? Oh heavens, what have they done? The bottle looks like it is lemonade – or dishwater, but the contents hold one of the most devious and destructive contents known to man. The smell isn’t that bad and the initial taste is just bad, but the evil comes into the aftertaste. Like a time bomb, it waits for its ever-coming havoc. Just when you think you’re ready to move on, it assaults your very own soul with a reeking butter flavor that makes you want to rip your throat out.

Brussels Sprout – No. No NO. If sin had a taste, this is it. Actually, I take that back. Satan would probably try to break all theological bounds and repent if threatened with this. I would not wish this on Bill Parker, the bully from 8th grade who use to flick staples at my ears. Bill would probably start to try it and I’d say “Dude, no – don’t do it. I care about you on the basic sense of humanity.” It looks awful to start. A gritty dark green liquid rarely tastes anything but putrid and it stays true to form here. The smell will keep the most hardy away and several of us almost lost it here. Only by pinching my nose could I get it down and then the realization that at some point one has to release your nose so my nasal senses could add to the experience. This is pure evil of an evil that you never knew existed. It’s the Emperor to its Darth Vader. It’s Melkor to its Sauron. It’s the embodiment of Wrong. This is what the world could unite under a banner of peace and say “This is the enemy.” Who knew that peace on Earth could be achieved through soda?

Thankfully, that was the last one. We realized that we were scarred for life - or at least the rest of the day. These are not meant to be ingested, but people will do it anyway. I guess human nature likes to see what it can do to itself.

For the bravery of those 4 that tried all 5 of these bottles of swill, I made the following badge:

Do we really wish you a Merry Christmas?

2005-12-09T09:05:00.000-05:00

Christmas is almost upon us now. As I type this, I have a radio tuned on an AM station at my place of business playing Christmas Music 24 hours a day. That sounds really cool – and it is . . . until you realize that they have a limited music selection and that the play list consists of 24 different versions of only seven songs.
But hey, it’s Christmas, almost!
However, upon listening to this music for five days in a row, I have a problem with the traditional carol of “We wish you a Merry Christmas.” This is a fun carol that is very jolly – at least the first verse:

We wish you a Merry Christmas (repeat 3 times)
. . .and a happy new year!

Then there is the chorus:

Good tidings to you and all your friends*
Good tidings for Christmas and a happy new year

This is what everybody sings, but there are traditionalists out there that demand all verses be sung. I thought only Baptists did that, but there are some hard-core Christmas police out there who lead choir members into this land of unfamiliarity. Without these people, we would have never found the evil feeling that this song generates as a whole.
This “fun” carol takes a dark and twisted turn. The writer was obviously distracted by either hunger or a selfish lust for sweets, because the second verse goes:

Now bring out the figgy pudding! (repeat 3 times)
And bring it right here!

Some later renderings of this verse are “We’d like some figgy pudding” or “We want some Figgy Pudding And we’ll wait right here.” This obviously was an attempt to tone down the abruptness of the second verse, but all versions still depict a need for pudding. The original work is still intact and sung around America today. The rest of this article will dissect the original intent of this dastardly song.

On a historical note, pudding was once a traditional food at Christmas** – it was difficult to make and yielded a taste that was far duller than the sweets we have now.*** This pudding apparently was a fig pudding, that is - a pudding made with figs – maybe a lot of figs therefore rendering it “figgy.” I will admit that it is a funny word, much too funny to sing formally yet people still do it anyway. In my five days of continuous listening of Christmas music, one version stated “Christmas pudding” in place of “Figgy pudding.” This singer was obviously very much embarrassed at the thought of using his professional talent to say the word “figgy.” Yet he was the only one that did not say “figgy” while the six other versions kept the word “figgy” and because of their bravery, he is now rendered a wuss in my mind. But my argument does not lie here in the figgieness of the pudding.

The writer of this carol is very driven to get this pudding. Her/His tone is very adamant at the maker of the pudding. “Now bring out the Figgy Pudding!” almost sounds like “I’m tired of this holiday junk! Now give me pudding!” This could be from the perspective of a child rebelling against his/her mother’s suggestions to wish the visiting guests a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year – that would be the best-case scenario. The worst-case scenario is that the singer is a guest invited into the warmth of a host’s home and demands the pudding he/she thinks they are hiding. This could be the playful ruse that some friends put on to lighten the mood, but we have no clues to indicate this type of relationship.

If that wasn’t enough, there is a third verse that is more extreme that sucks all the holiday cheer out of the room that the host would desperately try to perpetuate. The third verse is as follows:

We won’t go until we get some! (repeat 3 times)
. . .so bring it right here!

We can only infer that the host did not respond to the guest’s initial request to bring out pudding. Perhaps the host was so offended that they refused to listen to this guest. The arrogance of the guest is apparent now as he holds the party hostage until said pudding is revealed. This guest is indeed extremely selfish because not only do they want immediate pudding, but they are not wanting this pudding placed at the table, or the buffet, for all to partake in; the guest says “bring it right here!” which we can only interpret as “my lap.” I must point out that this verse also uses the pronoun “we” which leads to two possibilities as to the identity of the caroler(s):

1. A couple. A very rude and selfish couple OR
2. The entire party in attendance.

I’m assuming it’s the entire party since this song is traditionally sung by choirs. Imagine with me the poor hosts of this party; their home being held hostage by a ruthless mob that demands pudding. Not just any pudding! Figgy Pudding! Aren’t figs rare in this part of the world? The whole situation probably started with one guest, right after the 2nd round of Pictionary, and the number of participants grew until the whole party started chanting in unison “We won’t go until we get some [pudding].” To state such a phrase would indicate that it is getting pretty late in the evening. If that is true, then the only reason the pudding hasn’t been brought out yet is that the host doesn’t have ANY pudding to give! Whether the host tried to explain this rationally to the mob or not; we’ll never know. We can only imagine the horror as the hosts are hiding in the kitchen, huddled over their children, as the mob tears apart the living room and starts to chant in unison. The promise that the guests won’t leave until they get pudding, along with the absence of pudding in the home of the host creates an embarrassing situation for both groups. In fact, in Miss Manners Party Etiquette Manual, both Host and Guest have met all conditions that the only inevitable conclusion is a violent outburst of anger.****

After the third verse, the first verse is repeated, but at this point, we know it is only a taunt. Their Christmas will not be merry, because the tree and all the family’s presents were IN the living room when the thrashing riot began. Little Billy’s toy horse is now dismembered from a hefty guest’s booted foot. Susan’s Barbie phone will be found broken on the lawn next morning. The tragedy that this carol conjures is evil and in poor taste for such a holy holiday. I, for one, wish you a Merry Christmas, and I mean that.

*or kin; presumably if you had no friends. According to this carol, it already seems that if you have neither then it is not their wish for you to have good tidings despite your loneliness. This is due to the condition of the greeting being for both parties exclusivley.
** After all, it’s mentioned in Dicken’s A Christmas Carol, isn’t it? I only saw the movie and they had some there – they made a big deal out of it.
*** C’mon, why do you think we don’t eat it anymore here in the U.S.A.?
****Don’t bother looking it up, just trust me.

History Lesson #1

2005-12-02T08:52:00.000-05:00

This week I will share a bit of history. It's fun to see how the present and the past are united together, rooted in something common that is ... well, commonly common as something rooted to two different things such as present and past really aren't that different ... but they are. Maybe that is uncommon ... hmmm

The History of "Thumbkin"

“Where is Thumbkin? Where is Thumbkin?”
“Here I am! Here I am!”
“How are you today, sir?”
“Very well, I thank you!”
“Runaway, Runaway”

There are some different renditions of this little song, but I have explored the origination of this song and its original meaning. First, I need to show you the first clue and that is the use of wiggling the thumb when two are singing this song (or one person using two hands if you are the only person in the room.) This comes from the signal for the underground resistance of France between the periods of 1940-1941. Thumbkin represents the youth of the resistance who will rebuild the world once the war was over. The question of the older person is “Where is [the future leaders of our country]” and the youth respond “Here I am!” It is no doubt that this song was a morale booster during the time of Germany’s Occupation of France. The next line “How are you today, sir?” is an important one. The old is calling the new “sir” signifying that Older France will follow the Younger leaders toward a new era of peace and longevity. The next line “Very Well, I thank you!” is the acceptance of such a role from the younger generation. They thank the older generation for their confidence in their youth as a symbol of respecting the elders that came before them. The last phrase “Runaway, Runaway” has also been seen rendered as “Run and Hide, Run and Hide,” in either case, it is a reminder that the war is still going on and one cannot trust that their current position will not be found. The resistance must survive!* This is a very patriotic song to teach to all young children everywhere.

*unless your resistance movement is evil. Then shame on you! Go and choose a different song like ... oh I don't know ... maybe "Have you seen the ghost of John"

Comments

2005-11-23T08:59:00.000-05:00

Hi. uh... We just noticed that we had the comment thingy locked down real tight so no one could post anything unless they gave a DNA sample. So we had a guy click on something and maybe it did something. If it did something other than what we thought the something would do, we'll do something else.

Sillybear Inc. Tech Support Team Alpha J-2

Sillybear Inc.

A division of Nabisco

Happy Thanksgiving 2005

2005-11-23T08:30:00.000-05:00

It's an early post for the Turkey Day Holiday so we can all get off the computer and spend some time with other humans.

For your holiday cheer, I want to share a Thanksgiving story that happened last week. A local ministry group was hosting a Thanksgiving meal for the International students at the University. This was going to be a great time to meet and welcome the students; a time to teach them about American Thanksgiving and learn about their culture to see if there was anything similar. (Who knows? You know? Because I can tell you I don't - at least not right now) Well anyway, that’s what was supposed to happen, but my experience turned out differently.

Once we got there, we saw a wonderful setup and there was food everywhere. This was going to be fun and yummy - no doubt. Upon the start someone grabbed my arm and said “we need help carving turkeys.” No problem. I enjoy helping out and look forward to doing it when I can. Leaving my wife at a table of Ukranian friends, I approach the scene and quickly assess the situation. The eating of turkey was about to commence and we had 12 turkeys, 6 people, and 4 knives already starting their surgery. I attempted to do some math in the sense of an equation.

If you have 200 people who each will eat 4 ounces of meat and you have 6 people carving at roughly 1 ounce every 3 minutes, and the average consumption rate at the buffet line is .25 ounces a minute, how long do you have before people start complaining?

Unfortunately, if I was going to sit down with pen and paper at this moment, the other volunteers would stare at me in disbelief not knowing that my calculations would be a boon to their task, but since I’m bad at math I dived into the turkeys.

Ah, the knife problem - or I should say, "problem of knife lackage." Yes. Upon inspection of the utensils available, we saw that carving knives were indeed lacking. There were plenty of serving spoons that could have been sharpened, but the lack of a stone grinder prohibited this line of thinking. I had been watching a lot of MacGyver lately and the brief thought of rigging a box fan to a screen door to produce a turkey-o-matic processor did pop into mind, but I chose a more rational line of thinking considering our impressionable guests. A journey to the buffet line produced two things: a sense of awe at the amount and variety of food and treats and a group of plastic forks and knives. Equipping myself with plenty of supplies for myself and my fellow knifeless carvers, I journey back and plunge with new resolve and hope into my first turkey. If my plasticware could talk, they probably would have said “Dude, what are you doing? Are you high? We’re plastic!” To which I would have said “I know boys, but these people depend on us, I’m with you in this to the end.” To which they would have said "You are high! You're talking to plasticware." And then I would deny it repeatedly and the organizer would then ask me to sit down at a table away from everyone. But the knife and fork didn't say a word - which is probably for the best for all three of us.

The interesting thing about turkey is that within a short period of a few minutes, you can go from craving it with mouth a-waterin’ and then be entirely repulsed by it as if it were camel spit in a matter of minutes. Luckily, my inability to eat the turkey due to duty staved off this effect. My new friends volunteering were an inexperienced lot and I wasn’t much better, but speed was essential and “careful cuts along the grain” was long abandoned to “meat-off-bone-now!” We all came to the realization that turkeys are made out of a lot of turkey. Just when you think you carved enough out of it, there was a whole section untouched, mocking you. We were convinced we were carving demon turkeys that were respawning in their own juices, rebuilding their tasty morsels to ungodly strengths to eventually take control of us all. Either that or we were just not as diligent as we thought we were. It was around my second turkey that my equation from before broke down since I did not consider the “dark meat” factor. People started coming to our carving table for fresh warm dark meat. This was fine, because they were going to get turkey anyway sooner or later – why not here? It was learned quite quickly that turkey was being consumed at a much larger rate that previously estimated. My equation, if applied, would have generated a turkey deficit that future generations would still be paying off, not to mention a “dark meat” quotient that would send energy prices soaring.

Sorry grandkids, Papa only had a plastic knife.

But at the end of all things, we had (when combined) 3 turkeys left over and nothing else. I retreated with some dark meat that was no longer appealing (through no fault of its own) and bits of corn left from the demolished buffet line and partook in some great fun with our Ukrainian friends. Even though the festivities were almost over I was able to reflect on what I was thankful for. I was thankful to help and thankful to be around some great people. Most of all, I was thankful for the existence of ham.

New Horizons in Food (for me anyway)

2005-11-18T08:29:00.000-05:00

I had my first pork rind this week. While waiting in checkout lines, I like looking at the displays nearby, with all the tabloids and candy and soap opera digests and then there's the beef jerky and the pork rinds. I'm always curious about beef jerky and pork rinds, but I don't want to go "down a notch" by actually buying them in front of my wife when we go shopping. So I bought them at work.
Not knowing what I was getting myself into, I paid 60 cents for a small package of Crispy Porkies® Fried Pork Rinds. The mascot was the head of a very excited cartoon pig in a chef's hat with a "Come on! It's fun!" expression on his/her face. Since the ingredients said only "Pork Skins and Salt" I figured I was getting a real deal. No artificialness at all. Maybe in this case it wouldn’t have been a bad idea. After holding one in my fingers, you do get a sense of "don't do it" because it doesn't really resemble anything one would commonly consume. Maybe a deformed cheese puff that hasn't been "cheesed" yet, but that's it.
After eating one, I got the feeling that I've been had. Mostly that it has the volume of a polystyrene packing peanut - hardly any substance to justify a markup to 60 cents. And then the flavor ... well, not what you'd expect. I'll admit that I didn't know what to expect, but whatever I did expect wasn't what I actually experienced. I ate half the bag to try to figure out if I liked it or not. Too actually go through such a process would indicate that I didn't like them. And now my stomach is agreeing to that logic. I have thrown the rest away giving up on wondering how to regain 30 cents of my investment.

Someday I'll try the beef jerky...

James Bond - Worst. Spy. Ever.

2005-11-11T08:50:00.000-05:00

It's November and it's usually around this time that a new James Bond film comes out every other year. There isn't one this year so you can safely say that I don't give into hype that much. Or you could just say "Why are you talking about it now?" I really don't know, it was just on my mind.

Some would consider James Bond to be the greatest spy character of all time, but this is clearly and undeniably wrong. The mere fact that we know his name excludes him from this category. Generally, a spy is someone who assumes an alias, infiltrates the enemy “sector,” gathers intelligence and then leave without a trace to report his findings to his (or her) superiors in cold, drab executively gray offices. James Bond accomplishes none of this. First, he doesn’t assume an alias. In fact, he makes it a point that you fully understand his identity. “My name is Bond, James Bond. That is my name is James Bond. First name James, last name Bond B-O-N-D. I will be your spy this evening.”

Secondly, his infiltrating is mostly done on women rather than the enemy headquarters. Sure, he could say that he needs her to get close to the enemy, but … James, really – every mission? When Jimmy finally gets around to the enemy compound, he is usually captured, bound and led to the head boss-evil-guy. Now, this could be his intention, but routine is always risky – especially in his line of work. One would think word would get around on Henchmen websites or Diabolical Leader Forums to inform others that if a guy introduces himself as “Bond, James Bond” just pull out your gun and get it over with and not to play verbal chess with a dude who has a laser in his watch. Nevertheless, Jimbo bites and claws his way out only to realize that there are roughly 23,000 fiercely loyal security guards after him. He should not be surprised by this. Nor is he. In fact, he shows no concern for his mission or his surroundings. The number one goal now is for him to stay alive – no matter the cost. During his routine “escapes” he tends to rack up 14 to 28 million bucks in damages – not to mentions the billions of “missed” bullets from both parties hitting innocents off screen as they chase each other on impossibly durable snowmobiles in downtwon Paris in mid-June. Think of the savings he could have had if he had employed the most basic of spy techniques that my wife uses daily.

1. Be cute – This is in and of itself an alias. Who could not trust those sweet pretty eyes, button nose and sunshiny smile?
2. Listen to your surroundings. My wife can hear me chew from the other room. Granted, it’s not that hard to hear me eat, but it’s important to pay attention to who’s around you.
3. Don’t get caught. Do you see my wife being chased by enemy agents? No, James, you don’t. Maybe if you held your cards a little closer to your chest, your insurance deductible wouldn’t be so high.

My confusion with all this is that the English government keeps using James Bond for the most sensitive assignments. How they try to justify his wanton abandonment of stealth and secrecy is beyond me. My only consolation is that when he is helicoptering his skis off a cliff in a bright yellow snowsuit, he is more of a target than my wife who would have already found the “Scoripo Missile Codes” on a Google internet search.

An Audience of One

2005-11-04T08:26:00.000-05:00

At no other time in history has an invention made people more rude and invasive into the privacy of one’s own world than the telephone. Well, maybe the leaf blower, but much has been said about that already by others. The word “telephone” comes from the Sanskrit root words “tele” which means “bringer” and “phone” which means “of evil and terrible things that will take away everything you hold dear.”
Yes, the telephone revolutionized the world, but it also revolutionized rudeness. This rudeness is subtle, because it happens all the time and it is hoped by the by the rude-ers that it will be accepted by the rude-ees. This rude behavior is displayed when a person representing someone (or something!) dials random numbers to talk to people they don’t know to get them to do something they most likely don’t want to do. Ah yes! You guessed it! I am talking about telemarketing, BUT I am not going to rant about how evil the practice is as much as how to deal with it.

“ONLY SAY HELLO ONCE”
The first path to take is not to get involved. You may pick up a ringing phone and say “hello” once and then if someone doesn’t answer right away – HANG UP QUICKLY! I have warned my friends and family that they should constantly scream my name after they dial my number just so my swift reflexes don’t cut them off. Those that constantly stay on the phone and say “hello” just deserve to get money sucked out of them, because this is what happens:

(Computer dials phone number)
(Phone rings)
Honest Hard Working American: Hello?
(Computer picks up signal that someone answered)
HHWA: Hello?
(Computer relays call to National Telemarketing Firm of Evil)
HHWA: Hello? Is anyone there?
(NTFofE gets notice of call and relays notice to one of their thousands upon thousands of underlings)
HHWA: Hellooooooooo?
(An underling gets the notice and screeches of joy from surrounding underlings of “We got one!” are loud and devilish until the underling of choice quiets them down.)
Underling: Yessss. Iz Mizter Smith available? gollum
HHWA: This is he.
Underling: (suppressing joy) Mizter Smith, I am authorized to offer you a credit card with a
50% APR, a $25 annual fee, with a credit line of up to $4. Now, I need to confirm your information that you live at . . .

The conversation goes into the Underling telling Mr. Smith everything about himself, like some sort of freelance psychic forcing his craft on you. This is largely passed up as normal and very legal. What one should do is say phrases like:

“How did you get this number??” and “How did you know that? Who do you work for?!!!!!”
It is important to sound as paranoid as possible. If they continue to talk to you, try shouting away from the phone saying:

“Riley! Johnson! We gotta move! We’ve been located! GO!” and then hang up OR add the following Hollywood-sounding vendetta:

"So, you found us, huh Jackson? Well, we’ll see who will be laughing when the Alatarzycophlox is activated! Tell your partner I hope he enjoyed his CHEESEBALL! Bwaa Ha Ha Haaaaaaa!!!!”

“DO NOT USE CREDIBLE THREATS”

Do not mention actual existing weapons such as bombs, mines or guns. Also, only say something that is pretty vague that could be taken several different ways. There is no need to have your phone number flagged by the NSA and a government kill-truck on route to your door. It’s just not worth it.

Now, if you have time and you are ready (which most of us don’t and aren’t) you can entertain the person of the other side with your keen wit and charm to annoy them to no end. Telemarketers are trained to talk fast and to keep you from saying as much as possible, so whenever they *have* to let you answer, begin this way: (Country accent optional) “Well, gee, this is a coincidence, because I was just talking to Marge and she said that she got a call like this about two weeks ago. At first I didn’t believe her that someone would just randomly call her and offer her a credit card, because after the Ackersons moved out of her duplex, she got into a lot of money problems, but the compensation checks from the Workman’s Comp agency did really well to help keep her on her feet after the accident that tore her rotator cuff and …”
It is extremely important to try to keep this up in a constant stream of banter because any sudden stop will invite them to interrupt. Now it is possible to interrupt them back by saying “I wasn’t finished!” but they will most likely ignore you can give you a 1-800 number to call if you are interested in what they have.

“REPEAT THE NUMBER INCORRECTLY”

After getting it right after the third time, say (sans country accent) “Hey wait! That spells out 1-800-HOT-CHIK, just what kind of thing are you trying to pull, I lead a Sunday school class for crying out loud! You aught to be AH-SHAAAAMED of yourself, MIS-TER Onion Picklesworth!” At this point, you don’t have to hang up, but I recommend it. Sometimes, if you’re strong enough, you can try to go for their reaction as your reward, but you will most likely be disconnected when you start tittering. It’s a much better end if the freak (you) leave first in the whole cannon of the conversation.

You can then hope that your confrontation with the underling will discourage them from such a line of work and maybe take up a more dignified profession such as Professional Wrestling or wearing costumes in front of Auto Dealerships.

You can’t reason with a Zombie - a Hallowe'en pondering

2005-10-28T10:57:00.000-04:00

In celebration of Halloween or All Hallow's Eve or Candy Day I present the following pondering. (and you thought that I forgot to post - bwa ha ha)

I’m not a fan of horror. I don’t like “the dark side” and I prefer never being scared by things of an underworld nature. It’s not worth it to me. Some people may enjoy that “high” of being scared or startled, but let’s make one thing clear – these people need help. From the occasional gut tossing rollercoaster to the gaudy faux-haunted house complete with vac-formed tombstones, people really need to find another device for excitability.
Like cross-stitching. Tedious it may seem, but the thrill of seeing a picture come to life from dots of yarn … well, one really can’t describe it fully to do it justice. I want to be clear in stating that I don’t suggest you cross-stitch a zombie on a throw pillow. That would be very off-putting for Grandma. Just keep the weird devil stuff where it should be – in large discount bins at Halloween Express-o-ramas. While you’re at it, seal it off and don’t go near it. You may think you are getting a good deal on a “Demented Dentist” starter kit, but in the long run your investment will depreciate on several levels.
Which brings me to zombies. Do we really need them? The very idea that something would slowly seek you out, without rest, no matter how far you traveled away only for you to be overcome by the feeling of inevitability is creepy enough. But why a zombie? Why not a gym coach? Or a telemarketer?
I remember my older brother trying to explain the “undead” to me. It went something like this:
Ricky “They aren’t alive, but they aren’t dead either.”
Me “Then what are they?”
Ricky “They’re undead.”
Me “Doesn’t that prefix just prove that they are alive?”
Ricky “No, they aren’t alive”
Me “But they move?”
Ricky “Yes”
Me “They talk?”
Ricky “More or less”
Me “They’re not dead though”
Ricky “No”
Me “Why not call them the ‘un-alive’”
Ricky “Because that would be stupid”
Me “Ah…”
I then started to think what I could do if I was approached by an undead zombie (as opposed to an un-alive salesman). If you can’t kill something that is already dead, by logic, your work is done and you can go make yourself a sandwich. However, you have to do something about it still moving un-logically toward you. If you lack the stamina and equipment and the stomach to hack it into itty-bitty bits you have only two options:
1. Revive them – yes, if the thing coming toward you is undead, then you must restore their health so they will stop their advances. Of course, to attempt this you would have to approach the zombie quite closely. An unfortunate prerequisite. Start your procedure by force feeding several vitamins and pain medications into the zombie’s mouth. Next apply a warm gelpack around the neck and start up the defibrillator. Should you succeed, the subject should be just plain dead and not be in this spooky undead condition.
2. Hold a debate – Explain calmly to the zombie that, logically, they cannot be this way. If the zombie will not move his position but would rather try to grab you, state your closing argument while running away.
Needless to say, my conversation with my brother did not bear any fruit on how to deal with zombies, but it just pointed out the idea of them. It’s always around this time of year that the subject comes up somewhere and people become more aware of the unrealistic but nagging possibility that maybe … perhaps … one is in your basement. Now, why this time of year? I don’t know. One would think that if you really wanted to scare someone you would do it around June 27th or some other unsuspecting day.
But then again, zombies don’t take to reason very well.

*the author is now spooked and will be thinking happy thoughts for the remainder of the day

Oranges Poranges

2005-10-21T00:05:00.000-04:00

Falling for Spring

2005-10-14T08:14:00.000-04:00

It is time for Fall once again. Or is it Autumn? Autumn seems to be the correct, more appropriate term for this season, but how did it become known as “Fall?” The most obvious explanation is that is what the leaves and confused quarterbacks do in the time of Autumn, but I have another theory. Spring is the only season that has one syllable and it needed to find a mate - all in an attempt to not feel so lonely amidst the two-syllable seasons. Spring has co-dependency issues; did you know that? Well, Winter refused to be called “Cold” “Gift” or “Gray” and summer wasn’t going to change to “Hot” “Sun” or “Mow.” Winter and Summer both felt they were meant to be together and were secure in their relationship. Meanwhile, Autumn shuffled its feet and said “Okay, I’ll change, but what should my name be?” Autumn never stands up for itself like a season should, but it has a good heart. They got together at a food court in a mall outside of Tulsa and thought up, but quickly rejected, names like “Orange” “Plump” “Food” and “Sneeze.” Then, in a moment of cuteness, they both said “Fall” at the same time and giggled. The county registrar happened to be in that afternoon and after paying $15, it became legal. This transformation never really convinced everybody, especially those in Europe, but at least our two seasons know the truth in their hearts.

A little extra sumpthin'

2005-10-10T13:02:00.000-04:00

Tron: A remembrance

The year was 1982. For me, it was a golden age of video games, synth rock and the occasional Santa Claus-esque visit from the Ice Cream Truck Guy. But one of the best things that came out of that year for me was a simple movie known as ...

Okay, sure. It wasn't a very popular mainstream movie, but for those who ever made weekly (or daily) trips to the bliss-filled havens known as Video arcades, this was the film that was our banner to prove to the rest of the world that we were cool. Sadly, it just cranked the geek-o-meter to 11. Somehow, the idea of a computer hacker trying to find evidence of his stolen game ideas, while battling a computer who looks like a relative of the Kool-Aid guy, didn't appeal to a lot people in 1982.

Cousins?

Movies that involve computers really are reaching when they try to bridge a chasm of two worlds. Tron and The Matrix somehow tried to make you believe that slim, good looking guys are computer-chic techno geeks. When you see hollywood's computer hackers looking slick like this:

In real life, they are actually more like this:

Now, in sharing childhood memories with my wife, I had asked if she wouldn't mind watching this movie with me. Cautious and pensive, my wife reluctantly agreed. (Yes, I am a Tron Fan AND I have a wife. It IS possible my friends, shaky, but possible!) The main selling point was that I mentioned that it starred Bruce Boxleitner of Scarecrow and Mrs. King fame. My wife is a huge "Scarecrow" fan. Although, I think nothing could have softened the blow in her mind to see him go from this:

to this:

I don't blame her. It can be a jolt if you have no history with this movie. I had no history of Scarecrow and Mrs. King and have been watching the episodes lately. Since I never watched "SMK" before, I cuddled up to the idea that while in pursuit of an enemy cold war agent, he could throw a glowing disc at him or trap him in a square of jet walls from his lightcycle/Porche. But going from Scarecrow to Tron proved to be a bit more jarring on her. Some of the things going on in her mind were easily summed up by the constant furrowing of her brow through the entire movie. The experience left her with sore forehead muscles for the remainder of the evening.

Welcome to my world, baby

Now, I do have my own personal problems with Tron as far as storytelling. I'm not alone with others who know that this computer lingo they speak hardly ever makes sense.

Five bucks says that he'll get a syntax error

Sark, buddy, the MCP will not blast you into a "dead zone." A bad cluster, maybe, but not a "dead zone," sheesh.

The feel of the outside world is very dated now, but one thing we all agree on is that we want this desk:

It's shiny, black and frickin' huge!

Another sign that this is a movie made by geeks for geeks is that there's only one female with lines. Place technological double entendre here

"Heh Heh! Girl!"

Well, anyway let's hatch the plot: Our hacker friend sneaks into his former employer's laser lab armed with a forged group 6 access to try to find evidence of his stolen video game ideas. Everyone with me so far?

This shot always gave me the heebie-jeebies. Why place a terminal in front of a LASER that looks like this?

Or any laser for that matter?

Well, let's keep going: Flynn gets cocky and throws code at the MCP to try to distract him, but the MCP gets him back by zapping his null unit into the computer.

Compact Disc technology test goes awry!

Welcome to the Geek Lair! New to Role Playing, are we?

I love this movie. So Flynn is now in computer-land and meets a whole sort of friends and foes.

Friend

Foe

Friend

Foe

Friend

Foe: See a pattern?

Outsourced Union Temp

So anyhoo, Flynn and his new band of cohorts play a series of games which include:Lightcycles...

Yeah baby!

And Ultimate Frisbee...

Remember, in here, there is no reset button

They then break out of the game grid and assault the Master Control Program and his right hand man, Sark, with a little help from Whamo!®

C'mon, who didn't try to play this in the backyard?

OWNED!

Through a cooperative effort, Flynn and Tron destroy the MCP and the system becomes free from the tyrannical grip of Microsoft XP. Flynn is sent back into the outer world and the info he was looking for prints out on a ridiculously heavy dot matrix printer.

Yes, but will it hold up in court?

I've been scared of that terminal ever since

The next morning the Senior Executive who stole Flynn's ideas, sees that the MCP has crashed, the secret's out and realizes that he is about to get fired.

That's the "I-better-steal-the-towels-out-of-the-executive-washroom-before-I-put-my resume'-in-at-Steak-n-Shake" look

And within the course of 5 minutes or less, Flynn is placed in the top position of the multi-billion dollar company - with a free helicopter. No questions asked. Yeah. It must have been settled out of court.

A Winner is You!

The movie then ends with a time lapse on the cityscape to show how we and the electronic world are very similar, even though I've never been forced to wear tights.

We are all programs! BWA-HA-HAAA!!!!

Now order some neon wire and make your own costume.

You know you want to...

You can find this article of mine also at http://www.retrojunk.com

Introducing

2005-10-07T14:30:00.000-04:00

Several people have asked me (okay, only me talking to myself) if I should host a web page. My first thoughts are where do I invite one? Would the web page like to come to my house? Would it have time to spend an evening with me? I imagine that when I would invite the web page into my home, I’d take off its coat and put it on the bed, have it sit down, get it a drink and have some sparkling conversation capped with a rousing game of Catch Phrase™ and a light dessert. We’d then wind things down and I’d hand it the recipe for the cheesy ranch dip my wife had set out as the snacking medium for the evening. As the web page would leave, Carrie and I would wave through the glass door until it would turn the corner. With a sigh of satisfaction and a buzz of good cheer, I would think that I hosted that web page fairly well.

OR

I would awkwardly usher in the web page and tell it “Just put your stuff anywhere. . .No, not there! There!” and then leave it to return to my television viewing schedule for the evening. The web page would shyly follow me into the room and stand. On the second commercial in the break, I’d say “You can sit down, you know.” Then quickly and nimbly it would sit down stiffly and stare at the television. Maybe the web page would try to initialize a conversation. “Say, those Battle Bots are something else, eh?” I would then generate a “mmph” sound from somewhere around my head. All immediate hope for the web page would then vanish. As the show would end, the web page would look over at me for the next “phase” of our evening only to be answered by a continuous cycle of channel surfing. “A bloopers show was suppose to be on . . . let’s see here . . .” The phone would ring and I would pick up and it would be an old college buddy and we’d talk for a long time. Most of the conversation would come from the other end so that the web page would have not a hint about what was being discussed. After I’d hang up near the end of a “Hee-haw” reunion show, I’d remember something vaguely about someone talking and look around. I’d see no one, shrug my shoulders, and fall asleep during “JAG.” That is being a bad host of a web page.

So here, I've come across this. Yes. A place to post ...things. Things that have come across my fuzzy head and would like to share.

And I give you a ...
100% Clean Guarantee

That's right. No cussin' here! Nosireebob! And nothing inapppro- inappropi- rude either. You can come in and relax and I'll probably have something posted once a week to make you smile. That is, attempt to make you smile - on the inside at least.

And if you want a cheesy snack dip, you can email a request. Meanwhile, I'll try to be figuring out these dohicky web things.

Cheers!

Eric of Sillybear